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penvisions · 4 months

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of beskar and kyber {chapter 12}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader)

Summary: The job Din took to get credits takes a turn for the worse, the crew turning on him in a way that insights your direct involvement. It leads to a heavy conversation between the two of you.

Word Count: 11k (holy crap!)

Warnings: sexual content (!!), dry humping, talk of sexual intimacy, talk of previous sexual experiences, talk of sexual boundaries, description of male and female bodies, orgasm, sexual innuendos, sexual teasing, description of injuries (brief), canon typical violence, fighting, use of blades / knives, description of being stabbed / cut, description of being impaled (!!), tense situations, stalking, san fights(!), unsavory characters

A/N: took a few liberties with episode six, i hope y'all don't mind! a few things were changed in order to accommodate san's presence. i hope y'all like this once, a lot of stuff happens but that seems to be the way these are gonna go as we pick up plotlines from the series! there's a BIG scene that i hope people enjoy, lemme know what you think, pls? i'm so nervous to move the story along in this way but it felt like the right moment for these two

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || kofi

You were quiet as you boarded the ship, thoughts buzzing into white noise that you couldn’t begin to decipher. This…this was a mess. This was far more complicated than a simple rescue of a man that had been taken by rivals. This was an elongated interaction with people from Din’s past and people who had no respect for him despite knowing nothing of him but stories from a time past.

Realistically, you knew it would be a different dynamic between you both with other people around, with going back to a routine of sorts for Din to collect credits and take jobs. Bound to be a harder living now, in the wake of his separation from the Guild. But the people he had sought out to work with? It was all too nerve-wracking, too risky. Ignoring the fact that one of his past involvements was a part of the crew assigned to the job, the issue that concerned you the most was that Mayfeld had once been Imperial.

He could’ve been one of the people sent after you, could’ve been one of the people informed of your survival, one of the people who could recognize you. And that, paired with the presence of the Child, was too risky for you. Tempting to pull Din aside as ask him to drop you both off somewhere to wait for him to complete this job. But even that could bring more attention to you, and you were frustrated to be in such a plight.

The sounds of Zero up in the control room filtered down into the hold and you shook your head to rid yourself of the dizzying thoughts that were taking over, consuming from the inside out. If the ship was a part of the job, there wouldn’t be any time to ask for alternative surroundings. You would have to deal with whatever was about to transpire head on, whether you were a part of the job directly or not. Your involvement was inevitable. The voices of the people you would have to endure for the next few rotations were a drone from just beyond the ramp.

The droid climbed down the ladder and walked past you without so much as a glance, but you could hear him speak as he descended the ramp toward the group gathered outside as they went over things.

“Despite recent modifications, the ship is still quite a mess.”

A few more moments passed before the group was entering the ship. As soon as you heard steps on the ramp, you quickly climbed the ladder and sealed yourself in your room. Standing before the crate Din had given you, you reached down to unclasp it and began to dig around. The rattling of your painkillers could be heard before your hands closed around the bottle.

“She’s not a part of the crew, she doesn’t need to know any details.” Xi’an’s trilling voice floated up from the hold and seeped through the open door that Din had just walked through.

“Bet she’d be a good lookout, sure put you in your place. Could be an asset if we get bogged down. Not too bad on the eyes either.” The countering voice of Mayfeld sounded before the door hushed shut, drowning out Xi’an’s heated next words. It allowed for their voices to become muffled and when you didn’t look up from where you kneeled in front of the crate a sigh fell from Din.

“Talk to me.”

“I don’t have anything to say right now, other than that this is a bad idea.”

“I didn’t know she was still a part of the crew.” You pulled the bottle from beneath the clothes it had been under, still not looking over toward his armored form close to the door.

“She’s not the problem, not the only one anyway.” You grumbled as you tried to get the cap off the bottle, but your hands were shaking. “He’s Imperial, do you have any idea the kind of danger that puts me in, that puts ad’ika in?”

“He’s some front line soldier, the chances of him knowing about-“

“It doesn’t matter!” You pushed up quickly, turning to face him, pills forgotten. “There’s still a chance!”

“Did you even think this through before you contacted Ran?”

“Of course I did.”

“D-“ You clenched your fists, trying to keep your emotions in check, trying not to say his name aloud should anyone overhear. Pinching the bridge of your nose to stem off the headache that was forming, you decided to be completely honest with him, to tell him that he was being reckless. “Mando, you didn’t. You have a child aboard the ship.”

“And I will protect him at any cost. Protect you at any cost.” He regarded you quietly, taking in the way you slammed the crate closed and began to pace back and forth in the small space. You were wound up, the clasps on the trunk tinkling as they vibrated, his eyes glancing at them and then toward your clenching hands. The energy flowing off of you was palpable and for a second, he was in awe of the natural way you manipulate it without even thinking. You had forgone hiding your powers in favor of giving Xi’an the same treatment she had treated you with, it had been rather telling of your emotions to push back against her so easily. “I didn’t know they’d need the ship.”

“I-I don’t like this. It’s too much of a risk.”

“I understand that you’re afraid-“

“Of course I’m afraid! My entire fucking life has been thrown off by the Empire and one of the people who served for them is aboard the ship!”

The errant items around the room were floating in the air with the energy from your emotions. You didn’t even notice you had been causing it until Din stepped closer to you and reached out for you. You glared at him and before you could say anything, he was gripping your face in his gloved hands and stooping in low to peer directly at you. The visor so close that you could see the reflection of your panicked eyes staring back at you. You looked so scared, face contorted in a concerning display.

“Please calm down, mesh’la.”

“You should’ve told me, before you contacted Ran.”

“I should’ve, I wasn’t- I didn’t think.”

“I know it’s not my place, but-“

“You deserve a say, you have a say. I will heed anything you have concerns about.”

“Where are we going?”

The pause he took told you enough about the matter. You weren’t going to like it; with the way he was hesitant to inform you was all the answer you needed. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, gloves brushing the braid your hair was up in and pinned around the back of your head.

“A New Republic prison transport ship.”

“They have you breaking into a prison ship to free an inmate? Okay, that’s- Okay…do you want me to stay on the Crest or do you want me-“

“I don’t want you to do anything unless you want to do it. It’s up to you, mesh’la.” You guided his hands from around your body, gripping them tight with your own. With a questioning glint in your eye, you removed his gloves and tucked them into his utility belt. His hands rose to cup your face once again, eyelashes fluttering at the bare feel of them. His thumbs brushed your cheeks in a soothing motion.

“I would feel better being with you, I don’t trust them. And that’s not to say I don’t have faith in you, but…”

“I understand, I have faith in you too. I would like it if you were aboard the ship with ad’ika, but it won’t be taking off unless you and I are both back on board.”

“I…will stay, but you contact me the second anything goes awry. Promise me, please?”

“I swear to you.” He watched as you brought his hands up and pressed a gentle kiss to the skin of his knuckles. The modulator in his helmet crackled, the sound bringing a smile to your face as it revealed something about him. That he liked your touch on him, the affection you were giving him.

The visor stayed focused on you, but you were sure his eyes were traveling back and forth between your lips on his skin and shine of your eyes as they glinted with a promise.

Metal doors slamming open had you following right on Din’s feet, down the ladder and into the hold.

Burg was standing in front of the cabinet where Din kept most of his weaponry and supplies. It was right outside of his quarters, and your eyes trained on the control pad for it, checking that the lock was still engaged.

It had been an brief conversation that ad’ika would be kept away from the people aboard the ship. A worry about Xi’an and her knives along with concern about him getting overwhelmed and exposing his own powers. You could hold your own, should they decide to try and test you. Though the idling fear of them talking about the exchange between you and Xi’an was a low thrumming in the back of your mind.

With a press to his vambrace, the cabinet swiftly closed before the Devaronian could get his hands on anything. Mayfeld and Xi’an both looked over from where they were seated around the makeshift table as you stepped off the last rung of the ladder and stood beside the imposing figure of Din.

Burg huffed, a frustrated sound coming from low in his chest. He turned around to stand over Din, trying to intimidate him once again. As his hand flew out to mess with the controls closest to him, the one leading to the closed off quarters, you and Din both stepped forward, you move in front of the door, behind the tall man. At the contact of Din restraining Burg from moving any further, Mayfeld decided to jump in with repeated utterances of ‘hey and okay’.

“I get it. I’m a little particular about my personal space, too.” As he spoke, Din sidled around Burg, urging him away from the door. You stood your ground as Din stood beside you once again. “So let’s just do this job. We get in, we get out, and you don’t have to see our faces anymore.”

“Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian and his little shadow.” Burg rumbled as he stared you both down, unwavering in his direct contact.

“Well, apparently they’re the greatest warriors in the galaxy.” Mayfeld leaned back a little, raising his arms out. “So they say.”

“Then why are they all dead?”

You bristled internally at the hurled comment, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling up as you felt energy wash over you. The ill-mannered attitude and crack of a ‘joke’ sitting like lead in your stomach and heart. Too many of Din’s kind were gone, mostly wiped out. Those that prevailed, did so with such a vibrance for their way of life and continuation of religion and culture. While you may not be Mandalorian yourself, you had been rescued and cared for one in your darkest hour and for years after. Endless respect and admiration for your guardian and Din beside you stirring the need to protect.

You were about to take a step forward when you felt Din brush his hand against one of your own. Xi’an took notice of the small movement event as she laughed along with the guys and continued to balance the point of a knife on her outstretched hand. A hard tint to her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Well, you flew with him, Xi’an.” Mayfeld rolled his head to look over at her across the makeshift table they were both seated at. Clear, now, of your metal working tools and the armor you had been working on before anyone had boarded. “Is he as good as they say?”

“Ask him about the job on Alzoc III,” She turned her focus back onto the blade, ignoring the way you were standing guard over the doors still, how close you were to the armored man in question.

“I did what I had to.”

“Oh, but you liked it.” She spun the knife around to grip the handle, pointing a finger toward him from across the space, her voice hinting at something more. With a telling smile that allowed a glimpse of her sharp canines, her eyes flitted from his visor to you behind him and back. “See, I know who you really are.”

Her words were for you, though her eyes never left his figure. Taunting,

“He never takes off the helmet?”

“This is the way.” She mocked in a low timbre, bringing a closed fist to the front of her chest.

“I wonder what you look like under there.” Mayfeld pinned him with a look, something behind his eyes you weren’t too fond of. “Maybe he’s a Gungan.”

“You ever seen his face?”

Xi’an gasped, the sound drawn out and breathy as she caressed one of her lekku with a gentle hand.

“A lady never tells.”

She had to be lying, he wouldn’t have removed it for her. He wouldn’t remove it for anything, it was his sworn Creed. And yet, doubt painted your thoughts in a dark swath. Jealousy lit up ugly inside of you, making you question the tentative stepping stones you’ve already waded on. Made you feel inadequate in the face of seeking him out in such a way. Though he had done nothing to prompt the feelings himself, it was all based on her and her reactions. The intimidation you felt from her garnering negative emotions in the wake of rediscovering yourself and your own notions of things taken from your life and tainted in the worst way.

“What about you, surely you’ve been privy to it?” Mayfeld’s eyes found your own, a smirk pulling at his lips. You narrowed your eyes at him, not willing to play into his teasing with so much as a shake of your head. It was none of his business, none of anyone’s business but Din’s. The lack of respect they had for his way of life, his religion, his Creed was sickening. Their collected ignorance a telling sign that they didn’t care about anything that didn’t directly serve them. Then the insinuation of intimacy and the breaching of personal boundaries had your shoulders knotting tight, fingers tapping against your thigh.

“Aw, c’mon, Mando. We all gotta trust each other here. She trusts you, for whatever reason, what’d you have to do to gain that?”

“Do not incite her, in any matter.” The modulator crackled with the force of his words, as if they were being spoken in that dark voice through clenched teeth. You let him take the figurative step of telling them to control themselves, having worked with at least one member of their little quartet before. He knew better than you, what type of people Ran employed and kept in his company.

“You gotta show us something. Come on. Just lift the helmet up.”

Burg loomed closer, form so large in the space of the hold.

“C’mon, let us all see your eyes.”

At a small nod from Mayfeld, Burg reached out a hand with a confidence.

Din immediately slammed a hand over his wrist and pulled him forward, using the loss of the man’s momentum to shove him away. You stepped back, trying to stay out of the way. Burg quickly gathered his bearings and lunged, only to be kicked back into the small alcove beside the quarters. Trying to catch himself from falling on his back, Burg’s hands shot out and gripped the wall, fingers dragging over the controls for the door. They flew open behind you to reveal ad’ika standing atop the cot, face contorted and nervous.

He looked from you to Din, sounds falling from him that made no sense. Reaching out mentally, you tried to sooth him, to let him know everything was okay.

But everyone’s attention was on him, and it made him freeze in his spot.

“What is that?” Mayfeld wondered, unbridled excitement coloring his tone as he stood from his seat and began to move closer. You moved to block his view into the quarters, blocking ad’ika from the lingering stares as you felt panic wave off of his small form. One of his small hands reached out for you, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

Din didn’t move as Mayfeld walked past him, Xi’an rising from her seat behind him and following.

“You get lonely up here, buddy?” Mayfeld approached, peering over your shoulder with an intensity that unnerved you.

“What a minute, did you two make that?” He turned to Xi’an, close on his heels. Her curiosity getting the better of her in the moment.

“Don’t.” You said, reaching out a hand to keep him a few paces away.

“What is it? Like a pet or something?” He pestered, waving his hand up and around, watching the way large eyes followed the movement over your shoulder.

“Yeah, something like that.” Din finally spoke, though it wasn’t what you expected. He was trying to play this off, like it wasn’t a secret that had been unearthed. Hoping that the initial reaction would wane into one of indifference.

“No? Okay, what about you, is that thing yours?” Mayfeld’s eyes roved up and down your body, lingering in places they shouldn’t. “Bet it was a hell of a good time, making something like that. I wouldn’t mind a partner as submissive as you seem to be for him.”

“Watch it.” You growled, words forcing their way through clenched teeth. You could hear the crinkling of leather as Din did his best to keep his hands to himself, willing you to deal with the unsavory attention lest the entire job blow up. You closed your hand, feeling the energy around you and manipulating it, Mayfeld gasped as the air in his lungs was suddenly gone. He stopped trying to get ad’ikas attention and clawed at his throat. His face reddened as he struggled to breath but at a nod from Din you ceased the action.

“Didn’t take you for the type.” Xi’an moved into his personal space, face only a few inches from the front of his helmet. As if she wanted to touch him, her hands twitched at her sides. “Maybe that code of yours has made you soft.”

Quickly gathering breath back into his lungs, Mayfeld didn’t drop the teasing, though it was less direct.

“Me, I wasn’t ever really into pets. Didn’t have the temperament. But I’m thinking, maybe, I’ll try again with this little fella. Take him off your hands and babysit.” He tried to get around you, but you flung him back, his feet sliding across the durasteel flooring.

“Do not touch him,” Your entire body was alight with the instincts to protect, to hurt those invading personal space and boundaries time and time again in such a short window.

Zero’s voice broke the tension with the announcement of dropping out of hyperspace.

The ship lurched, jostling everyone with how rough it was.

The ship careened, gravity shifting from underneath you. Your stomach was in your throat, and you were reaching for the small being tossed from the cot. Your fingers just grazed the edges of his tunic as he flew past you. Your back knocked into the door frame, but you kept as quiet as you could, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself. The Child cried as he landed harshly on the floor, right where Din had been thrown to his knees, barely able to catch himself from flattening completely.

As the ship landed and docked onto the top of the transport ship, stable for the time being, Din carefully cradled ad’ika in his arms and pressed him into your own. You curled your arms around him, sitting atop the cot and murmured soft words to him as he clung to you.

“That useless droid didn’t even give us a proper countdown.” Xi’an hissed as she straightened up herself, having been tossed over the makeshift table and across the hold.

“Alright, Mando, we’ve got a job to do.”

He stepped away from you, his visor lingering on you before he turned to face the watching group. As he did so, he pressed something along his vambrace, controlling the bottom panel of the ship and it opened up to reveal an entrance aboard the ship below. He connected a device to the seal of the entrance, the small screen blinking red in rapid succession. You watched as everyone exchanged looks, communicating something you weren’t privy to as they collected around him and peered down.

As soon as the device displayed a green screen, the entrance unlocked and opened with a hiss.

Disengaging the device, Din gathered up the cable and stepped aside.

“It’s me?” Mayfeld asked, looking around at the faces trained on him.

“Always you.” Burg announced, as if leading the job wasn’t something Mayfeld was quite used to. Didn’t know that it was his responsibility to lead in ways other than with his words. He lowered himself to the ground and took a cautionary glance into the space below. Deeming it clear, he braced his arms along something and dipped out of sight. Xi’an and Burg followed after him.

Din’s figure paused as he stood around the entrance, looking over to you for a moment. You were already watching him. You stood, closing the distance, adi’ka held close to your chest. Leaning up, you pressed your forehead to the front of the helmet in what was quickly becoming your greeting and farewell with the man.

“Keep in contact,” You spoke quietly, not wanting the others to overhear you despite them no longer being in the same space. He nodded once, before he jumped and disappeared through the opening.

Beeping sounded from your vambrace, alerting you of an incoming call. You quickly pressed the button to allow the audio transmission to filter through. You had been trying to distract yourself by working on the chainmail, something repetitive enough to keep your mind occupied while you waited for Din’s return or a communication from him.

“Sarad, I’m locked in a cell. They’re coming back to the ship.” A heavy sigh separated his announcement from the orders he gave next. “Take out the droid and put the ship on manual lockdown, make the settings ask for either your chain code or mine to operate. We have fifteen minutes until the Republic Army descends.”

You left all of your supplies and materials out in the open on the table and quickly checked on adi’ka, making sure he was secure in Din’s small room. You handed him a snack, hoping he would sleep with a full stomach and through whatever was about to transpire. Making your way up to the cockpit, you could hear Zero talking to the others.

“You have a potential problem. He has escaped.” Zero was announcing over the comm line as you silently entered the control room. You raised your saber in your hand, blade not yet engaged. You brought it down swiftly, bringing it to life and beheading the droid in a smooth motion. His voice box tittered and the entirety of his body sparked before he fell to the floor of the room.

You set the ship according to Din’s instructions and jumped down through the open space in the hold before you could catch your breath.

The lights were flickering, power being shut off and you could hear corridor walls slamming shut. The lights kicked back on, bathing the entire ship in eerie red hues. Closing your eyes, you focused on the situation at hand, centering your self before you began to move about the foreign ship.

As soon as you found an access point, you connected your vambrace to the source. You searched the stored files for a layout of the ship and downloaded the display. Holding it up, you began to run down the hallways, leading you toward where you could feel the presence of Din.

You comm sparked to life as soon as you rounded a corner.

“Xi’an is two turns away from you, mesh’la.”

“Copy that.”

You stayed one hallway behind her, keeping tabs on her and the path she was winding around the ship. A silent stalker she had yet to sense was just around the corner. You could only hope she would lead you toward Din, the hallways closed off every so often, creating a labyrinth. As she moved about, more would hiss shut behind or in front of her, as if guiding her toward her assailant in an unnerving way.

She suddenly stopped, turning and throwing three knives down the hallway you were just hovering on the edge of. Looking at the map displayed from your vambrace, you turned and decided to get ahead of her and take her down. Just as you heard her steps approaching your position, she whirled around and began flinging knives out. Din was an intimidating figure on the other end of the hall, she was trapped between the two of you. She tried to stave you both off, but it was clear she was better at throwing than direct defense.

Metal clanged as knives bounced off of Din’s armor, but one landed into the unprotected part of his shoulder, and he stumbled back. She advanced quickly, and they found themselves in a stalemate, his own knife held under her chin and one of hers at his inner thigh. She caught sight of you in the corner of her eye and with a smirk she plunged it deep into his leg. He shouted out in pain, leg weakening as blood discolored his trousers. She pushed off of him and charged at you, but you engaged your saber and rushed toward her.

She flung two knives at you, but you easily cut them in half and they fell to the floor.

“You think you’re so much better than me?” She snarled as she managed to swipe the back of your hand, saber slicing into her shoulder. She jumped back, trying to get some distance but you advanced, blade humming ominously. She hollered loudly, glancing away for the barest second back at where Din was kneeling on the ground and trying to shake the feeling back into his leg. “That he’s going to stay with you but he’s going to run, he’s going to run from you just like he did with me.”

“You’re nothing!” You didn’t bother rising to her taunts as you swopped the glowing blade low, jolting her back to avoid her ankles getting singed. But you had grazed her, the leather of her boots singed with a line that was smoldering. While her focus was down, she braced herself and her knees bent.

“You kriffing bitch!”

“Shut. Up.” You punctuated your words with swiped of the glowing blade to cut her belt from her. You kicked it away, standing unnervingly close to her and peering over at her with a glare. The pulsing energy from the saber lighting up your eyes to show her that you were so far beyond reasoning with. She lunged at your legs with a screech, but you flicked out a hand and she flew back a few yards.

She struggled but once her balance was her own, she was back up on her feet and jolted forward. The blade hummed as you moved against her, the singing of her shoulder pulling a guttural noise from deep in her chest and she ducked before crashing her body into your legs, causing you both to tumble to the ground in a tangle of limbs. The handle of your weapon flying out of your hand and clattering into the wall. The blade disengaged, but not before it cut a swipe into the metal.

Your back hit the floor hard, knocking the breath out of your lungs and you gasped. Vision blurring but you reached out and gripped the back of the headwear she wore. Jerking her back, you flipped to pin her face down. She groaned out, body sore from the rough motion. Her breath catching in her throat when you realized you had made good on your threat, back on the space station. One of her knives was gripped tight in your hand, held beneath her chin, blade chilling her skin where it pressed.

She used the hand that wasn’t pinned underneath her body to dig her fingers into the cut at your thigh, pulling a strangled grunt. You leaned back on your heels, trying to move far enough back that her hand fell away from you, bloodied and dripping. You panted as she twisted underneath you and shoved at your shoulders. Just as your back hit the ground a second time and she hovered over you, her legs pinning you down harshly. Crying out at the sting of a blade embedded in your shoulder. She forced it with both of her hands, digging it impossibly deep into the muscle.

You heard Din call out, could see him try to close the space between your two scrambling forms and his own.

Your other hand shot out, reaching out and the saber handle zoomed across the floor toward you. Past Din who was splashed red with dark blood.

Xi’an screeched at you as she tried to get a hold on your hair to slam your head into the ground.

But the second it was in your grip, you engaged it.

Everything fell silent save for the humming of it.

Errant blood escaping from the puncture bubbled and fizzled, rank smelling steam bursting into the air between you both. Her body fell limp above you, her middle catching on the hilt of the blade and she hung only slightly above you, unconscious. Shoving her from you and powering the weapon down, you scrambled up to your feet. You looked over her toward Din, seeing him holding a wide hand hard against his leg.

“Is she…?”

“No, I didn’t hit any major organs. She’ll need medical attention soon though, to avoid going comatose.”

“You need medical attention too, that’s a lot of blood.” You looked up from the splatter of it on the floor, up the expanse of his leg where it stained his trousers, to the dark visor of the helmet. Ripping the bottom of his cape off, you fastened it into a tourniquet around his thigh. He grunted as you tightened the knot around his muscle, wanting to ensure he didn’t bleed out.

He told you of his plan to leave them here, lock them in an empty cell to be found by those coming to the ships call for aid in the face of danger. To be caught and held responsible for their crimes.

“Qin” Din’s voice boomed across the hallway, the suddenness of him speaking since falling silent while set to the task of gathering the others into the very cell they had locked him inside. He motioned for you to stay back as he rounded a corner, his ripped cape swirling behind him as he calmly approached the man whose rescue this was all about.

“You killed the others.”

“They got what they deserved.”

The sound of an upset snarl was followed by the clicking of two blasters being drawn. Your heart stuttered, but you knew that Din had the situation under control.

“You kill me, you don’t get your money. Whatever Ran promised, I’ll make sure you get it, and more.” An argument of the most logical approach, knowing that he was overpowered and at a disadvantage. “Come on, Mando. Be reasonable.”

The clunk of a blaster being tossed to the floor calmed you a bit, your nerves loosening as you realized this was going to go easier than expected. Seems like the man knew all too well the capabilities Din possessed, perhaps someone else he had worked with in the past and didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his wrath. Reading the room and how upset he must be with how things turned out, with how quickly they had fallen into chaos.

“You were hired to do a job, right? So do it. Isn’t that your code? Aren’t you a man of honor?”

Unnerving laughter filled the air, making the hair on the back of your neck rise up.

But Din remained silent, unwavering, intimidating in his lack of engagement. You had experienced it firsthand, and it was easy to give into the stoic figure he made in his armor, the black stare of the visor as his helmet trained your every move.

“Board.” Was all he said, a hand signaling you to fall into step behind him.

“You’ve got yourself a little shadow, now that’s something new.” The twi’lek commented before he began to climb the ladder up into the Crest.

“Don’t engage with her, she took down Xi’an and she won’t hesitate to do the same with you.” An impressed sound hummed from him as he settled at the makeshift table. Eyes moving about the space to take in the environment, sus out any hidden threats or people lingering from the crew that had been assembled to come to his rescue. As comfortable as he could manage, he ignored Din’s warning and spoke directly to you the second the man was out of earshot, having moved up into the cockpit to get the ship in motion.

“What’s a pretty little thing doing with a big bad man like Mando?” He smirked at you, eyes roving over your figure in a way that made your skin crawl.

At your silence and scrutinizing gaze, he looked you over. From the ripped fabric of your trousers to the braid of your hair, over the entire length of your body. You didn’t show the discomfort at his roaming eyes, simply taking it in stride. Knowing that if he were to try anything, you wouldn’t be reprimanded for retaliation.

“You know, I never expected Mando to be so free with his space. My sister tried for years to get him to let her stay aboard this hunk of junk he calls a ship. Always met on his terms, never giving anything more than he was willing to, even if she pushed.”

“But you, you’re different. I can sense it. I see things he has no relation to scattered around the ship. Your mark on his space, it means a great deal whether you realize it or not. But he’s a selfish man, and he’ll make that known to you sooner or later.”

You didn’t engage, only spared a glance over at him when you readied yourself a serving of the tea given to you by the clinic. The painkillers they provided you with had been doing a good job of staving off the cramping in your middle, but nausea and a gnawing feeling in your stomach prevailed.

You turned to face him, stilling as you took in the defeated air about him. He had his freedom, he had his life back after having been caught, but he didn’t look happy. He lacked something that didn’t light his eyes through all the way, and you felt bad for him. He may not be the best person, but you could see that something was missing and he felt the space whatever it was left in its wake. He was watching you, his eyes trained on the way you picked him apart at the very seams. Calculating how he displays himself versus the things you see in him that he does not.

He shifts in his seat, anxiety at your scrutiny given voice.

“I’m selfish too.” You said before ascending the ladder and leaving the man alone with his thoughts.

“You keep that little shadow of yours close, no tellin’ the attention she’s garnered from being at your side.” Ran chimed after Din, aiming the thinly veiled threat at the man’s back. Turning to face down the ramp, hand hovering over the panel that controlled it, Din took notice of how the man was gazing up toward the windows of the control room. A glint to them that unsettled him, like you were something to own and control, to be used to get back at him.

He was silent as he boarded the ship once again, guiding it into flight immediately. Ships beamed in from hyperspace around you, focus on the space station none the wiser behind the Crest.

“Hey, I have a question.” You announced, securely seated behind the man as he directed the ship into hyperspace. The controls beeping and toggles switching underneath Din’s hands as he controlled the ship and set a course. He made a low hum, to let you know that he heard you and was waiting for your next words.

“What do you want me to call you around other people?”

“Mando is fine.”

“That makes me uncomfortable. It’s informal, it’s on the cusp of an insult, to associate you only with what you’re known as. You’re much more than that.”

“I don’t see it that way, so you don’t have to worry about me taking it that way.” He was quiet for a beat, chair turning back around as you walked up beside him. Emotions flitted across your face and you frowned when he turned back toward the control panel. You watched as he punched in coordinates from within his mind, a system of planets further out from the mid rim popping up on the screen. His fingers hovered as he slowly panned across the options displayed in front of him, thoughtful. “What did you call Akiz?”

“Cabur, kebiin, nuhunla jag.” You reached for his shoulder, palm going over the pauldron in a caressing motion. Thoughts and memories pulling you back into the past.

Protector, blue, funny man.

“And what did he call you?”

“Kih goran. Mir’sheb. Ner kar’ta.”

Little blacksmith. Smartass. My heart.

“I’ll respond to whatever you choose to call me, mesh’la.”

“Why…um, why…do you call me that?”

“Because you are.”

His visor turned to you, and you felt a pull toward him but took a step back instead. Overwhelmed by the honesty in his voice, the sincerity with which he shared his reasoning with you.

“O-oh, okay.” You could feel heat rising up the column of your neck, surely visible to the man seated in front of you. A way for him to know that his words had an effect on you.

“She was a youthful indiscretion.” He broached the silence of you tending to the cuts he sustained. The one on his thigh had been quickly tied off but now needed proper attention. He had removed the armor fastened about his legs while he waited for you to change and return to the hold. His boots were inside his quarters, not wanting them to get jostled about in the open space of the hold. He wasn’t sure where ad’ika had gone to, but nothing was clanging nor was he making noises like he needed something. He may have followed you up to your room, curious as to what you stored in there along with the pull of your larger cot with softer blankets.

“I believe…that she was once something you wanted so you sought it out.” Your attention was focused on the contents of the first aid kit Din typically kept inside the weapons locker. It was laid out on the floor beside you, some wrappings already torn into and pressed to your own injuries.

“But, seeing how she is and everything insinuated, it was all fast and rough and passionate. And whether the attraction deteriorated over time and taken over by disdain, there was feeling there.”

He was quiet as he watched the way you carefully wiped the wound free of blood splatter that had stained the skin. Gentle fingers applying bacta cream to the wound, trying not to irritate it, before wrapping gauze around the diameter of his thigh. Cutting off the roll and knotting the end of it to keep it secure but not too uncomfortable or damaging, your hands stilled on him.

“There was, it was fleeting. More about the…familiarity we had with each other than anything beyond general attraction.”

“But you sought her out, time and time again.”

“Only while working with the group, the second I left, I ceased it all.”

“But it was, wasn’t it? Rough and about power, to see who could overpower the other and take pride in the ability to bring each other down in such a way.” That was what had bothered you so much about seeing them interact with each other. The way she tried to overpower him, the way that he let her attempt to with no reaction. Knowing that if he were to show a reaction, even small as one could be, it would be like giving her the satisfaction of knowing that she had succeeded in getting under his skin.

“That…was a big part of it, yes.” He admitted, after a few bated breaths.

“I may never be able to give that to you, that type of dynamic.” You admitted softly, feeling self-conscious for the umpteenth time since first stepping aboard that lone space station. Din’s past lying in wait to take you both off guard in the most unexpected of ways.

“I’m not asking that of you.”

“But you liked it, obviously. It was intense enough for her to linger on the interactions, to feel cheated by your disappearance.” You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, contemplating the route of the conversation. Trying to hold your emotions in check, your own inner turmoil at the subject matter in order to show him and yourself that it was normal to talk about these things, to discuss these things with those you wanted to be with.

“San, please look at me.”

“Din, you-I may not ever be able to be that willing, to give over control completely.”

“I’m not asking to take control; I’m not asking anything of you. It’s- that’s not what I’m-I’ve changed. This, what we’re doing- It’s all on your terms, your comfortability, your willingness. Whatever you want to give me will be enough, even if it’s nothing at all.”

“You-you would really be okay if I were to not want to explore that with you?”

“Y-yes, mesh’la, of course.” He stuttered as you stood up from where you were kneeling by his feet, where you had lowered yourself to tend to his injuries. Not breaking your focus from the helmet tilted down at you, something in your eyes he hadn’t seen before. His visor was trained on you as you stepped into the space between his thighs, hands resting atop his shoulders, fingers spreading along the cowl that covered his neck. Words seemed to flee him as he could only sit there and feel you untangle the fabric from around his body, folding it carefully and setting it on the makeshift table off to the side.

You paused, bottom lip between teeth as you thought something over. You felt like you were out of your element, unprepared for the yearning and heat that had suddenly taken over. Filling the space between every nerve and nestling right behind your ribs with a weight you were sure you couldn’t shake even if the desire to do so crossed your mind. Looking over at him, right into the dark line of his visor, you leaned in and whispered to him.

“But what if I wanted to?”

The weight of your words hung in the silence between your bodies.

“Th-then we would go at your pace, as I said before.”

His hands remained balled at his sides as you began to unclasp the securing mechanism on his cuirass. As soon as the first one was undone, one of his reached up to hold the panel of armor in place. Your hands focused on removing the back panel he wore when the second clasp over his opposing shoulder was loosened. With a soft reverence, you set the panel down atop his cowl, to avoid it potentially scratching on the material of the crate. Hands trailing over the one he held to his chest, you took the weight of the cuirass from him and stacked it atop the other.

Before he could lower his hands back to his sides, you loosened elastic bands that held the armor plates over his forearms. Slipping them over his hands, and then removing his gloves with the same focused attention. You fiddled with his hands for a second, tangling your fingers with his own, the contact sparking heat as you recalled how efficient he had been fighting with Xi’an, with stalking and intimidating Mayfeld, the tense conversation with Qin. The hands so softly brushing against your own were capable of so much, of such strong and powerful things. And yet, they yielded so easily to your own, he allowed you to touch him, to disrobe him, to see him. Your heart stuttered in your chest.

The padding he wore underneath was warm from the heat of his body, the velcro snicking loudly in the quiet of the hold. The sound sparking warmth low in your middle, the fact that he was letting you disrobe him of his armor, an intimate thing for someone of his beliefs, was not lost on you. You guided his hands to your body, resting them on the flare of your hips. His hands curled around them, holding to where you let him touch. Fingers digging into the material of your trousers and the belt loops around your waist.

The pair of pauldrons were the next to be carefully removed. You stepped closer into his space, his legs spreading to accommodate you and you felt the sparks reach up into your sternum. A stuttering gasp fell from your lips when you felt the twitch of him where the front of your thighs pressed into the inner most part of his own.

“S-sorry.”

You leaned down, hands hooking over the broadness of his shoulders. Running the tip of your nose along the exposed skin of his throat, down to where it connected with his collarbone. Placing a chaste kiss there, you let your lips brush against him softly as you spoke.

“It’s okay, I want to feel you.” He twitched again and the sparks bloomed into a simmering heat. “If you’d let me.”

Whatever answer he was about to speak died in his throat as you reached for his belt, the buckle clinking and effectively shutting his thoughts down. Loosening the belt, you untucked the long sleeve he had on, exposing his toned upper body. His shoulders and chest were broad even without the protection of his prized armor. The cut from one of Xi’an’s knives was red and irritated, you were thankful she didn’t douse them in anything before hurling them. The skin around it was splattered with a bit of dried blood and you reached for the cloth once again to wipe it away.

Chest adorned with dark hair that you ran a hand over in a petting motion. He twitched against your upper thigh, and you looked down to see the outline of him through the fabric. Feeling the way he was practically throbbing at your attention, you reached a hand down and were about to caress him when one of his hands stopped you.

“Don’t want you feeling like you have to, just because of what happened. Or to…prove something.”

You shook your head, letting him know that’s not what was fueling your attention. Hands resting firmly on his chest, bare skin on bare skin you looked right into the visor.

“I want to. I-I may have been thinking about it the past few days. But seeing how quickly things can fall apart, I want to know you in this way, to show you that I care about you in this way.”

He nodded once, listening to you, believing the earnest words you spoke to him. You reached down to rid yourself of the tank top that was stained with your own blood. The fabric hushing as it moved over the bacta patch in your shoulder. As soon as the clothing was added to the pile of his armor, his hands were on you, pulling you tight to him. You gasped at the press of your nearly naked front to his, heat simmering into something almost overwhelming, nerves lighting up.

He surged up, arms holding you to him underneath your thighs. Tightening your arms around his neck, and your legs around his middle, he made sure you were secure before he walked you over to his quarters.

“Is he-“

“He’s in my room, wanted to see the lights through the small window.”

“Good,” He rumbled as he gently laid you down atop the cot, taking in the way you looked in just your bandeau wrapping and sleep shorts. Soft, tan skin on display for him. The dark smattering of his chest hair, the hair that trailed below his belly button and down beneath the band of his underwear. His hips bones visible, his stomach a little soft, his muscles strong and defined. It made you feel honored that he would share his body with you, allow you to see him in his purest form.

You reached for him, tugging him into the space between your legs by the belt loops of his trousers, knees dangling over the edge of the cot.

“Not everything.” You whispered, tone lifting at the end in a hesitant question. Self-conscious of the bleeding that had been slowing, body still adjusting to a natural rhythm of hormonal changes after so long. Afraid of moving too fast, of being too much, of not being enough. Wanting him despite the trepidation of this being the first time you were sharing yourself with a man in this way, given the choice to.

His fingers deftly worked the buttons and shimmied the clothing down his legs, revealing the toned muscles that had only been glimpsed at through the cut in them. He was beautiful, a pillar of strength and skill, the build of him telling of his training and lifestyle. The bulge of him against the black fabric of his boxer briefs was obvious and your eyes stayed trained on it. He looked so big and you wanted to feel him against you. Kicking your shorts from where you had removed them from your hips, you pulled him down onto the cot.

His visor was aimed at the damp spot darkening the light fabric of your underwear.

“Mesh’la-“

He groaned, words drowned out by the sound as you hooked your legs around his waist and ground up into him. His hands supported himself on either side of you, hovering over you in the small space, as his body folded over you.

He rutted against you, body taking over as the heat of you so close was all he could feel paired with the softness of your skin. The dim lights in the personal quarters bathing you in an ethereal glow. You keened as the heft of him moved against you, the hardness between his legs making desperation form low in your middle. You gasped, head tossing back with his slow movements, legs tightening around his waist.

He groaned, a deep, gravelly sound that shot straight down to your core. Slick seeped into the fabric of your underwear, and your hands shot out to hold him tight to ground yourself. The action pushed your chest together, breasts jiggling with his motions as the thin fabric of your bandeau did nothing to hide the perk nipples that shown through.

The tip of his cock caught on the hood of your cunt, the pressure spinning your head despite the thin layers that separated you. The feeling of him hot and hard against your aching clit pulled a throaty grunt from you, fingers curling into the muscles of his arms, nails digging into his skin. The front of his helmet thudded against your forehead, drawing your eyes to the visor so close. You wish you could see into it, through it, the way his eyes had to be blown out. You wondered what color they were, not for the first time, and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as pleasure tingled all over.

“Good, mesh’la,” He panted, modulator crackling with his heavy breaths. Your hips bucked as he ground into you, body spurred on by the need to feel him even closer. But not yet, it would be too much too soon. One of his hands hovered over your chest, fingers reaching but pausing as if he was unsure if he was allowed to touch. “You feel so good.”

“Please touch me,” You arched your back, pushing your chest up to where his hand hovered. When his palm cupped one of your breasts, a moan tore from your throat at the sensation. Your hips lifted instinctively, seeking him out for more more more. You breath quickened as your stomach pulled taut, so close to the edge. It was overwhelming in the best way, the pleasure sparking steadily between the feeling of him rutting between your legs, the way his thumb brushed over your nipple as he palmed your breast. He was everywhere.

“Din, please,” Your eyes watered, the sensations all consuming. He pressed closer to you, hips undulating as he chased his own pleasure. He stilled his hips and ground against you, nudging that little bundle of nerves just right. Muscled tightening, back arching, legs caging him in as close as possible, you tried to tell him, let him know how good he felt when your release washed over your senses like hot water.

The keening sound that fell from your lips trailed off into a whimper as he thrusted against your slick covered underwear, guiding you through your orgasm. His hand at your chest flew to support himself once again, not able to keep up as his own release began to bear down on him. Once, twice, three more times before you could feel the hot, thick spurts of his own release as it collected at the front of his own underwear where he was pressed against you. Moaning your name, long and low, it would simmer in your mind for days.

He panted against you, chests bumping as you breathed heavily and looked up at him with blissed out eyes and an expression so soft that his heart skipped a beat where it thudded against his ribcage.

Gasping as he lifted his hips away from where they pressed against you, little aftershocks of pleasure rippled over your body. Hands reaching, you pulled the ruined underwear from around your hips and shimmied them off. Din’s helmet immediately turned as he didn’t want to overstep eliciting a soft laugh from you as he took the fabric you shoved against his hand dangling at his side as he stood.

When he went to step away, your expression fell. He must’ve sensed the shift in the air, the hesitancy and nervousness for his departure so soon after such an intimate moment.

“Just gonna go clean up, get you something to change into. Please don’t worry, mesh’la.”

Moments later, he returned to the dark quarters. You had pulled the covers back atop the cot and turned the lights off, getting the space ready for sleep. He skimmed his warm palms up the length of your exposed legs, a damp washcloth in warm against you as he gently wiped away your drying release from between your legs. The fabric of the cloth right against your clit in a brief pass had you gasping out, and he chuckled lowly. He swapped out the cloth for a pair of new underwear in his grip. He tapped the side of your thighs for you to lift your hips and he settled them on you.

Getting situated underneath the covers took a little shifting as you both tried to lay in a way that irritate new injuries. He ended up on his back, not able to lay side by side with you as both your thighs were bandaged opposite each other. You folded yourself over his chest, head resting in the crook where his shoulder met his neck, injured leg thrown over his middle. His heart was beating fast beneath you, and you buried your face into his skin and breathed in deep.

Content, safe, satiated. Everything felt right with the world in that moment.

“I’ve never removed it be with her, I never removed anything.” He spoke quietly into the darkness, his hand gently caressing your hip, not wanting to wake you lest you had fallen asleep. His body was alight with tingles, energy ebbing and flowing over his skin from the realization of what you two had just shared. It had been the most intimate he had ever been with anyone, had ever wanted to be with anyone.

The hum that vibrated into his skin was all the answer he got as sleep pulled him under to rest alongside you.

You stared. Unabashedly.

Maker, you couldn’t help it. You like to think of yourself as having self-control and a good sense of strength but… you were realizing how false those notions were as your eyes remained trained on the sight in front of you. Din was kneeling on the ground in front of an open panel along the floor of the hold. He was leaning slightly into the exposed space, his back arched slightly and his backside suspended in the air. The fabric of his pants was pulled taut over his form in such a way that you couldn’t even begin to decipher the mumbled words falling from the man’s mouth as he fiddled with something.

Desire flared strong in your middle, stretching down to pool between your legs and you felt your mouth go dry. He shifted slightly, leaning forward a bit more and his backside canted up just enough for you to see the barest outline of-

“San!” He called out, making you jump and scramble to look like you were busy. You took a few hurried, quiet steps toward where the crate that doubled as a table was set up and began to gather the mess from yours and adi’ka’s lunch. You didn’t dare turn around, listening intently to the hush of his movements as he extracted himself from the space he had been leaning into behind the paneling.

“San, I was calling for you, didn’t you hear me?” He was suddenly behind you, making you jump slightly.

You were still flushed, which drew his attention to your face.

“Are you alright?”

“Mhm.” You replied simply, not able to face him.

“Why won’t you look at me?” Concern flowed from him, his words soft but holding a tone that booked no argument. Wanting to know if you were alright, for you to be honest with him. You worried for a second if he thought you were having regrets about the night before, but it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be that, that had been…wonderful and so enticing. He had been so warm, throbbing against you where you needed him the most, his hands and the sounds bleeding from the helmet as he moved against you…

“San, why you won’t look at me?”

You turned before the words even registered completely, pinning look and desperate eyes on display for him. Unable to hide that you wanted him, even if it was still new. For both of you, a tentative bridge formed between you that you wanted to explore further.

“That’s what’s wrong with me, I was watching you while you were crouching and it- you looked, you looked good okay.” One of the cannisters fell from your grip, nervous energy lighting you up.

He was suddenly in your personal space, you back pressed up against the siding of the hold space. But you didn’t feel threatened, you felt excited. Pulled into his front by a hand snaking around your middle, you looked up at him, the visor glinting in the lights turned on all around.

“You’ve been watching me this whole time?” He rumbled, voice dark as he realized you weren’t injured or sick. That you were turned on, just by looking at him as he did the most mundane things to fill the time of space travel.

“Y-yes, you-you fill out your pants very well.”

“Hmm, never realized.” He tilted his helmet to the side, thoughts swirling around your mind stalling at the adorable motion.

He leaned in, as if he was about to press the front of his helmet to your forehead but he detangled from you instead and was rummaging through an open crate that contained his multitude of tools. You stayed where he had ushered you, body thrumming with the lingering heat of how he had been on you in seconds, of your confession.

“He’s watching, don’t want to scar him.” Din said by way of explanation as he nodded his head toward the open quarters. Adi’ka was in his hammock, head poking out of it and peering at you curiously.

“Din Djarin, you tease!” You tried to hide the smile pulling at your lips, but you knew it was a futile attempt. His chuckle and your light laughter urged adi’ka to giggle his own amusement.

“Ni mirdir vi ru'kir nuhoy o'r te oriya.” You looked over at him briefly, fingers skimming over the tools laid out for sale atop a table, attention captured by the environment that reminded you of the good parts of your childhood. Working on something that interested you, spurred on by the kind and encouraging words of your mother who hadn’t yet turned on you.

I think we should sleep in the city.

“Vi ganar te Crest.”

We have the Crest.

“Vi ganar a prudii, par jaon Tuur'ika jii. Liser’t copad at alorir bic norac.”

We’ve had a shadow, for over an hour now. Don’t want to lead them back.”

“Ni kar’taylir.”

I know.

“Vi ru'kir ve'ganir a yamika, nayc? Hiibir baatir be te prudii. Dinui at jor'adir. A pel haav, nadala skraan, a holo net, nadala pirun…”

We should book a room. To shake off the shadow. A reward to celebrate. Soft bed, fresh food, a holo net, a hot bath…

“Nadala pirun?” Something simmered behind his words, the hint of a promise in yours stirring something in him. The glint in your eye as you successfully negotiated what you wanted, as if he had been willing to turn you down after asking after it. He would give you anything you asked for, you were discovering, as long as it was within reason. Wanting for you to be comfortable and feel like yourself in any way. You were grateful for all that he offered you, for the chance to discover yourself after so long, and who could argue with a night spent in a fancy hotel?

“One with a lot of bubbles and water so hot it steams up the entire fresher.” You finally turned your attention to him, switching back to speaking in Basic, a pair of goggles in your hand. “Maybe I’ll let you join me.”

Walking away from him and back to where the vendor had appeared from the back, leaving him to his thoughts of your offer.

He was unnervingly still the rest of the time spent in the shop, keeping a healthy distance as you talked to the discussed what the pieces you provided were worth, the materials they were made from, the techniques used to create them, all to help him gauge what he could sell them for. He agreed to give you a handsome sum for the pieces you were selling, enough to make you internally question how long it had been since he’d been able to offer this kind of work.

“If you’re ever back this way, don’t hesitate to drop by. My partner and I would be willing to buy whatever you have, the craftsman ship is exquisite, truly.”

You both left the shop, walking side by side through the bustling street, full of people in the midday hour.

“How much did he offer you?”

“Oh, like four thousand per piece? Which is pretty high considering most plated armor goes for about six for a full set, but he liked that it was handmade, the quality of the metal. He really liked the stitching pattern I used to give the pieces more durability that will enhance the longevity of them.”

“I’ve been in the wrong line of work then.”

“Nonsense, how much do you average for a job?”

“Depends on the risk. More often than not, like back on Sorgan, what is offered is enough and then shelter and food are appreciated. Not particular about rates or standards, but the Guild would offer one to two thousand for intermediate quarries.”

“How very admirable of you, burc’ya.”

Friend.

That’s what he was, to you. Perhaps it was a tame way of describing his place in your life. But it was a start, it was comfortable. Being around him, getting to know the intimate parts of each other’s lives, sharing parts of yourselves with each other that no one else knew of. A bond that was growing with each passing day.

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prolix-yuy · 2 years

Text

Chapter 5: You and Me After, You and Me Before

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: An admission. A revelation. Truths. A promise.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: T, allusions to sexual acts, Din having lots of FEELINGS. While this chapter is not explicit, the entire work is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Cross-posted on AO3

Both Sides of the Door Masterlist || I Think of You Series Masterlist

Din has to take a few minutes to ease back from the incredible disappointment of being interrupted.

He’s glad he got you to your peak first, the bliss on your face as you smiled back at him like being shone upon by the sun. But that doesn’t help the ache between his own legs as he forces himself to think about gutted Tauntauns and the stench of wet Bantha. Din watches as you sit up, booping the child’s tiny nose and gently scolding him for scaring you, your sleeveless top rumpled and pants hastily rebuttoned. The metal patterning on the floor left indentations on your arms and shoulders that he wants to trace with his fingers.

You deserve a better place for him to pleasure you. Someplace soft, comforting, where you could drift off after. He’ll have to bring something up to the cockpit next time.

The thought lights up his skin as you look over at him and smile, fonder this time. The fact that he lets himself want a next time, not pushing it away like he’s been since you stepped on the Crest (and years longer, if he’s being honest), is a surprise. Not unwelcome, but a jolt after the strained emotions of the day.

The irritation at Karga for his insinuations, the veil of disdain from his alor over your presence, all came to a head when he entered the Marshal’s office and saw you there, reacting to a good-natured prod into your relationship. You must have fielded some questions of your own today, and while he’s been cautious in the past he knows you wouldn’t betray his trust.

He could have used your quiet strength today. Maker knows he wants you, the ebbing throb of his cock a clear indicator, but today it’s only become clearer that he wants you near. Near to him, under his protection, beside him in the moments when his life is difficult. You probably would have told Karga off, something like, “And why is it your business if I prefer beskar between my legs?” Karga would have spat his spotchka, laughed and ordered another round. You’re good like that, personable, funny and disarming in a way Din can never be.

He can almost see the calm in your eyes if you stood before the Armorer. The way you would have answered her questions, the steadfastness and strength you would show, all proving why you were a worthy companion to a Mandalorian. Even when placed by the sweltering heat of the forge with nothing to protect you, you would stand tall and unwavering.

But he couldn’t make you face her. He desired it, wanted to place his hand on your back and level his visor at his alor and tell her how important you were to him, but she wouldn’t believe it. He’d proven himself to be untrustworthy before.

Thinking with your cock again, Din Djarin? We know what happened the last time that happened.

That had been years ago, when Din shirked his duty to run with Ranzar Malk’s team, spending too much time under the sharp teeth and poison of Xi’an and lusting over the blood he spilled. When he finally returned, vibroblade slashes in all of the vulnerable spots between his armor -

Show me the face of the man who’s fucking me, Mandalorian!

- his alor had silently watched him treat his injuries. It wasn’t until he was back in the training room, Paz Vizla laying blows on every half-healed wound, opening them back up like screaming mouths, that she spoke.

“This is the pain of betrayal, Din Djarin. You have dishonored your role as beroya. May this be a lesson that continues to teach.”

He was patched back up, but the damage done was deeper than flesh. The pain of his choice, of abandoning his duty for the thrill of sex and money and rage, settled deeper in his bones than any break could. His alor forgave him, allowing him to continue training and learning and, when the chance to become beroya returned, allowing him to take up the mantle again. He was more loyal to the Creed than ever before, consequence beaten into him.

He needs time, that’s all. Time to bring proof to the covert that you are respectful, honorable, worthy in their eyes. You already are in his.

Shifting beside him, you shuffle to your knees, sighing and looking down at Din.

“I’ll get some food started,” you say, about to get to your feet, but Din wants just a moment longer. So with a boldness of affection he doesn’t often display, he reaches out and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you over in the circle of his embrace. You let yourself be toppled, giggling as your elbow comes down on his cuirass, hand by his shoulder. Din can feel you against his side, soft and warm. Your gaze dances over the helmet to rest on the visor, and it makes his breath catch when your eyes lock with his. Not perfectly, slightly unfocused without his brown ones to stare back, but it’s the most intimate feeling in the world for Din.

“Later?” you whisper in an attempt to be discreet while the child grips at your pant legs. Later is both a hope and a promise, laced with uncertainty between the child and duty. His hands roam your back, coming up to the back of your head to dip it against the helmet. A Keldabe kiss, one of many he’s given you. You press a small one into the helmet’s cheek as you rise, and Din’s lips purse unconsciously, as if he could press them to yours. He has to bite them to give him something to feel.

Later, when all three of you are sitting in the hold, Din startles at a question.

“Cara told me about Sorgan.”

Din tries to breathe through the spike of fear and anxiety that reduces him to a statue. He doesn’t know how to react - why did Cara mention it? How much do you know? How does it make you feel? Before steam can start spouting from under the helmet like a terrible teapot, you speak.

“I think she was trying to be kind, telling me that you had someone you cared about. Like maybe she wanted to reassure me that you were capable of it. Not that I don’t already know,” you say, turning your head down to the child as he fiddles with a wadded up bunch of string he’d been fixated on all evening. “Or she was trying to stir up some drama for the fun of it. You know her best.”

Your lopsided smile lets some air back into his lungs. Din puts down the circuit board in his hands, fearing he’ll snap it in two if he holds it any longer. Instead he places his palms on his thighs, thumbs digging into the dip by his knees to ground himself.

“Cara and I met on Sorgan, and we helped liberate a village of krill farmers,” he says, watching your reaction carefully. You nod, chewing on your lip a little as you wait. Kriff, you’re getting better at anticipating what he needs by the day.

“There was a woman there, Omera. She had a daughter, Winta. They helped care for the child.” Din pauses, the emotion of the memory heavy on his shoulders. “He would have had a good life there, would have been able to be a child, if the Republic wasn’t trailing us. They wouldn’t have been safe if we stayed.”

“And you wouldn’t leave him.”

The truth is more complicated. Din hasn’t found the right moment to tell you about his mission, or the importance the child plays in it. But your assumption is as close to an explanation as today can offer.

“I couldn’t,” he says, and truly believes it. Leaving the child is becoming a harder and harder inevitability to face by the day.

The silence lasts a little longer, both of you testing who will break next. You take the step first.

“Did you want to stay?” you ask, and Din shakes his head.

“I don’t belong in a place like that.” You tilt your head, a mannerism you’re starting to develop from your time with Din.

“That’s not what I asked.” It’s firmer now, and your eyes are sharp. How do you manage to touch what hurts but soothe instead of opening the wound?

“If nothing stood in your way, would you have stayed?”

Din wishes the answer was simple, a yes or a no. There was a time when it did feel like an easy choice. The calm of the village, the soft glances of a strong woman, children to care for and keep safe. It would have been so close to his Creed he could have justified it. But even without the threat looming over the child, the duties of being a Mandalorian, of the Watch, of being beroya, were too great for him to abandon.

“I made some mistakes in my youth, ran with a crew that I shouldn’t have.” Din looks up to your face and sees the silent question. “It was after I met you.” Nodding, you let him continue. “I betrayed the trust of my covert, of my alor, of Karga. All for a fleeting moment of freedom. I paid dearly for it.” The sympathy in your eyes goes no further. Not pitying, just commiserating.

“To stay on Sorgan, I would have had to give up my Creed.” Din lets the silence bleed, knowing that what he says next may hurt you, but you did seem to thrive on truth. “I might have been happy. She might have made me happy. But I made the wrong choice before, and I didn’t have faith in myself to know if staying was right. I don’t know how to give up what I’ve always known, and she would have needed that. She deserved that, done the right way instead of running. And…” Din’s breath is large, expansive as he tries to let out the deepest wound in his heart, infected and festering. “I don’t believe I could have been the good man she thought I was.”

Din rolls his shoulders stiffly, trying to relax under your thoughtful gaze. He wonders if you might try to touch him, but you don’t. You understand him better than most, and your hands on him right now would have been too much. It’s all out now, his greatest mistake and his greatest “what if.” He’s peeled off the bandage in the hope it might heal this time, but he needs you to say something.

“And now?” you finally ask, making Din tilt his helmet up to look at you. “Do you still feel like you aren’t a good man?”

He breathes, letting the cadence of his back rising and falling release the words.

“Every day it seems less likely.”

The answer makes you smile wistfully. “Good.”

Din waits for you to say something else, to ask something of him. A promise, an explanation. He wouldn’t blame you if you needed more. But you release him, turning your attention to the child and unwinding a loop of string from his claws.

You never push, you only hold your hands open for him to give. It makes Din want to give you everything.

“I’m glad you found some peace, Mando.” You break the last stretch of silence as you move about the hold, putting the child into Mando’s arms. The statement makes his head cock, not expecting this reaction. “I always hoped in the time we were apart that you were shown kindness, and care. I’m grateful that there was at least one.” You stretch and move to head towards the ‘fresher. Was it that late already?

“Mesh’la,” Mando calls after you, making you turn and look at him. The Mando’a he knows is less of a language and more a set of monikers, like the technical names for the parts of his blaster. He used it sparingly, the words carrying the most meaning when he saves them. But he can never resist calling you beautiful every chance he gets.

“You’re very different from her,” he says carefully, and you shoot him a crooked smile.

“I wasn’t fishing for comparisons.” You cross your arms with a smirk, leaning against the wall and contemplating your next words carefully. His eyes dance over your half-focused gaze, tapping fingers and contemplative crease of your brow. When your lips part he opens his own to sip in a silent breath. “You came back to me, Mando. Against all odds. That will always mean more to me than anything before.”

Din is dazed into silence and you nod, releasing a soft hum before heading into the ship. He remains, heart aching at your simple acceptance.

He came back to you.

Like a wish tossed into the sea, or a kind act in a cruel world.

He came back to you.

And he will never leave you again.

END || PREVIOUS

NOTES: Thank you all for coming along on another ride with our lovely little space family. We finally have some admissions of feelings! And a few glimpses into why Mando has been so reticent to act on his. But now that all things are more out in the open, there's just one tiny little cockblock still in the way. He's a very adorable one, and it's not his fault per se, but they'll have to figure something out. It's been a joy to share this story with you all, I'm so glad it's still something people are enjoying because I sure as hell enjoy writing it. To many more stories!

The story continues in Episode 9: Soft Fires

#the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #the mandalorian x female reader #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian fic #mando/reader #mando/you #mando/f!reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #i think of you series #prolix fics

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the-scandalorian · 3 years

Note

SIMONE!!! I would love if you wrote a fic (a drabble in this case) where Din is just sitting in his pilot seat watching Reader playing with Grogu, while his mind is lost thinking about how different she is from Xi'an and also how different he is from his younger/darker self. But unlike with Xi'an, he is unsure about her interest in him. He starts to panic because the next time they land to refuel/go to a market there could be a handsome guy with a safe, stable job who steals her attention. And this guy would actually deserve her. His beloved trusted kid-wrangling-partner, crewmate, and first true friend in a very long time. Panicpanicpanic-

"Mando? What's wrong?"

Would you take it from here? 😉

Thank you for the request, anon! I hope you like this 💗

Title: Diametric Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M Word Count: 3.1k Warnings: fluff, a touch of angst, pining, reference to spice and masturbation, cursing

Masterlist | Taglist

The kid was enthralled by you as usual: he was perched on your lap in the copilot’s seat, his wide eyes trained on your face. He was giggling his soft twinkle of a laugh as you bounced him on your knee and chatted with him animatedly. When he babbled back at you, you grinned and leaned forward to press a quick peck to his wrinkled forehead, and he squealed in delight, reaching up towards your cheeks with his little grabby hands.

You were so open with care and affection, so generous with love. Watching it made Din’s heart squeeze—in a way that felt good. Mostly.

He’d never experienced anything like it, not up close, not in his adult life. To be fair, he didn’t have much context as far as relationships were concerned. The most intimate relationship he’d had was with Xi’an; she was the only person he’d been with consistently, and he wasn’t even sure that what they’d had could be called a relationship.

But Din had changed so much since the days when he worked with Ran’s crew. Back then, he had been cold and hungry—brutal and rash in his desperation to prove himself, to feel something. He had been ravenous for violence and credits and adrenaline.

These days, he longed for… what?

He watched you pull the kid into the circle of your arms, whispering sweet words and rocking him gently as his eyelids started to droop. The image stirred that unnameable feeling in Din’s chest—it reached past his ribcage and threatened to fill some empty, long-forgotten hollow in his heart.

Din longed for that. For affection. For comfort. For family.

For you.

If anything spoke to just how drastically he had changed over the years, it was that. He could barely believe that the same man who had chosen to be intimate with Xi’an was now undeniably possessed by his feelings for you.

The pair of you were like night and day, complete opposites. It didn’t even feel right to think about you at the same time. The venn diagram that represented your personalities was two completely separate circles, no overlap between them whatsoever. In fact, you weren’t even the same shape. Xi’an was sharp, like the triangular blades of her throwing knives, and you were… something else entirely. You couldn’t be described with a simple contour: there was too much to you. You were something three-dimensional, something real and wild. A sunrise maybe.

Fuck, he was getting soft.

Watching you soothe the kid with murmured reassurances, Din couldn't help but dwell on the comparison... but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that you were almost impossible to compare. He had learned so little about Xi’an when they were together, and he remembered even less: he knew how she fought and how she fucked, and that was the extent of it.

You, on the other hand, he knew down to the minutiae.

He knew what everyday pleasures made you smile: a freshly bloomed flower, a toothy smile from the kid, anything sugary and sweet, a shooting star, hearing Din’s own rasping chuckle.

He knew what you sounded like when you stubbed your toe, what curses accidentally spilled from your lips, even when it happened around the kid. He knew the guilty, silly face you’d make, how you’d slap your hand over your mouth when you realized you’d just let out a string of expletives in front of a toddler. It always made him smile beneath the helmet.

He knew how grouchy you got if you didn't get enough sleep, the groggy, unfocused way your eyes looked when you first woke up. He was all too familiar with the fact that your patience went from undying to zilch when you were operating on less than five hours of rest. He found it endearing, honestly. It made him want to pull you into his arms and smooth the crease between your brows with his lips.

He knew the soft clothes you slept in, how they smelled like laundry dried in warm sunshine and something sweet and flowery, like night-blooming jasmine—neither of which made any sense at all considering you used the same washer, dryer, and detergent that Din did.

He knew that you were vicious and adept in a fight. The first time you pulled a knife on a quarry and wrestled them into submission, Din stood on the sidelines and watched, wide-eyed and impressed. You were unflappable, even in the face of danger, and he loved that about you.

Din also knew things about you that he shouldn’t know.

He knew that you called him Dad to the kid when he wasn’t in the room. You’d never done it in front of him, but he already knew he wouldn’t correct you or draw any attention to it if you happened to let it slip in his presence. No, he liked the sound of it too much, especially in your voice.

He knew the noises you made when you pleasured yourself—they were etched into his brain, branded there for the rest of his kriffing life. One day, he’d cranked his helmet’s volume all the way up to scan the area around the ship for life forms, only to hear the quietest panting and faintest moans from your bunk. He listened for a few moments longer than he should have while his brain caught up and he realized what he was hearing. When it clicked, he panicked and dialed the volume down to silence, walking straight into an unfamiliar forest, the kid trailing behind in his pram. He made sure to never fiddle with the volume control on his helmet while you were tucked away in your bunk ever again.

After spending so many months with you, Din knew you, inside and out. You were multifaceted: you were soft and hard, funny and serious, stubborn and patient, clever and silly. You were complicated and contradictory.

And that was why you felt so different from Xi’an—because Din had allowed himself the luxury of getting to know you. He had the time and willingness to learn you. He had never done that with anyone else, never given Xi’an that chance, never invited intimacy. At the time and in retrospect, he had reduced her to a two-dimensional shadow of a person, and that was on him.

He was a changed man now—and thank the stars for that because he wanted things to go differently with you. He wanted all of you.

Of course, that would require sharing his feelings with you, and that terrified him because he could not for the life of him figure out how you felt about him. He knew you liked his company, he knew he made you laugh—usually not intentionally on his part. He knew you liked how he was with the kid. He knew you’d chosen to stick with him on his tiny ship for almost eight months already. If you held nothing more for him than friendly affection, then why were you still here?

He didn’t let himself indulge in the hope that you cared for him in the way he cared for you.

He couldn’t afford to hope because even if you harbored a fraction of the warmth he felt for you, he could never give you the life you wanted. You missed having a home. He saw it in your eyes sometimes, heard it in your wistful voice when the two of you talked late at night—when you were both lulled by the quiet hum of the ship and Din found himself trading truths with you that he wouldn’t normally say aloud. During those times, when he felt like the two of you were tucked safely away from the rest of the universe, he shared hazy memories of his childhood and his parents, and you did the same. You reminisced about your home planet, about the trees and rain and ocean air, and about your family.

And as hard as he tried, as much as he wanted to, Din would never be able to give you those things. He prolonged jobs on temperate planets as long as he possibly could. But he could never give you what you really needed: time in one place.

The chance to put down roots, to grow yourself a home.

He watched you hum a lullaby to his foundling, and Din knew his time with you was finite.

***

A couple hours later, Din touched the Razor Crest down in an alpine meadow on a green, mountainous planet. He had chosen this particular place for the supply run because he knew you’d like the landscape.

Sure enough, when you stepped off the ramp and the pink and white wild flowers bobbed against your shins, you sighed longingly.

“Wow, it’s so beautiful. I love it here.”

He watched you soak in the panoramic view, and it made Din equal parts happy and sad—happy to have brought you joy, sad to have pushed you that much closer to leaving him. Your joy was worth his pain, though. It would always be.

The three of you made your way to the closest town along a densely forested path, Grogu settled happily in your backpack, his big ears and curious eyes peeking over the top of the canvas. When you arrived at the market street, Din watched as you flitted from one stall to the next, collecting every item on the supply list. He watched you chat with the vendors and feed fruit samples to Grogu, and he couldn’t deny it—you were meant to live under golden sunshine, your feet on solid ground. You were meant to try new things and interact with new people, not just one asocial metal statue and a toddler.

Even though you stuck close by his side the entire time—a habit of yours he loved—Din felt like he was watching himself lose you in slow motion. He witnessed you glow and bloom, and his palms grew sweaty inside his gloves. He felt compelled to do something, to remind you that you liked traveling with him and seeing new places, to remind you that you loved the kid. Maybe he could keep you for a little longer if he gave you enough reasons to stay. He could offer to come back to this same place again.

And then he followed you into a little shop, and Din knew he was screwed.

Oh… shit.

The shopkeeper who approached you was handsome: he was suave and built, with a soft smile. You asked him a couple questions about the items you were looking for, and he was friendly and even a little flirtatious in his responses. Din stood back and watched the two of you hit it off over a conversation about root vegetables. The easy way you clicked made him feel sick.

The shopkeeper made a joke about grains, and you laughed. He reached out and touched your arm, leading you toward the ingredients on your list.

The audacity of this dick.

It had taken Din several weeks to work up to touching you, and after all this time, his touches still remained utilitarian: to help you to your feet, to hand you the kid, to squeeze past you in a tight spot, to show you how to work his Amban Rifle, things like that. And once… to brush a stray eyelash from your face. That one had been purely selfish—and one hundred percent worth it to see the way your eyes widened when he caressed your cheek.

He watched you chat easily with this stranger, and a crushing thought occurred to Din. This man was the epitome of what you deserved: grounded and steady. Normal. Reliable. Soft and open. Affectionate. Unarmored.

The shopkeeper brushed your arm again as he handed you some leafy green vegetable, and even though he knew it was insane, Din’s hand itched to draw his blaster. Instead, he crossed the small space and stood behind you, looming tall and threatening, and the man looked up at him and took a small step back. Good. You looked over your shoulder at Din, a questioning look on your face.

Fuck. What was he doing?

Din forced himself to turn on his heel and walk out of the store, the bell on the door tinkling quietly behind him. He had no right to be upset, no right to be jealous. He had no claim on you, other than a loose working partnership and a bond of friendship. And the devastating reality—the one Din really, really wanted to ignore—was that if he truly cared for you, he owed it to you to let you find happiness.

To let you go.

He stalked down an empty alley, so he could seethe and thunder in private.

Fuck, why did he always have to be principled? Why did he have to feel eternally bound to a Creed, to honor, to his maddeningly insistent sense of right and wrong? Why did he have to return the kid to his people? Why did he have to let you go?

Why couldn’t he be selfish for once?

He should. Just this once. Yes.

He knew you’d stay if he told you he needed you.

And yet... he knew he wouldn’t. This was an unshakeable feeling in his chest—the same type of feeling that had told him to go back for the kid—something so fundamental that he couldn’t deny it. He knew he would let you go...no matter how much it made him want to put his fist through the duracrete wall of one of these buildings.

Dank ferrik, he really needed to calm down. Din paced back and forth in an effort to dispel his mounting rage, but it wasn’t helping. His blood was still boiling, his breath coming in short pants. He was clenching and unclenching his fists, rolling his neck and shoulders to try to relieve the tension.

“Mando? What’s wrong?”

Dammit. He was hoping he’d have more time alone. The selfish voice in his head was pleased, though; it whispered: yes, good. The less you spoke to that man, the better.

He turned around to face you, schooling his body language to feign composure. “Nothing. Nothing is wrong.”

You looked skeptical, crinkling your eyebrows together in concern and confusion, but you seemed to let it slide, saying, “I’ve got everything. Let’s head back?”

“Yeah.”

You turned and walked in the direction of the Razor Crest, the kid still snuggled in your backpack. His big brown eyes followed Din’s movement as he fell in line behind you.

The uneasy feeling in Din’s chest remained.

You were going to wait until you were back at the Razor Crest to break the bad news to him—probably because you could tell he was irritated, and you wanted to give him time to calm down. You were thoughtful like that. It was infuriating.

Or maybe, you wouldn’t leave today. That alternative wasn’t a relief though; if you didn’t leave today, it might be tomorrow or a week from now—it would just be prolonging the inevitable.

Din was still trying to parse out what to say to you, if he should even say anything at all when you arrived back at the Crest.

You walked up the ramp and settled the sleeping kid in his hammock, shutting Din’s bunk. Then you turned to face him, a serious look on your face.

“Mando, I think we should—”

So it was going to be today.

Before he could stop himself, Din blurted: “So you’re going to stay?”

His voice sounded cold and hard, in no way betraying how he actually felt. He was bracing for the inevitable impact, erecting a wall around himself to preempt the heartbreak.

Your concerned expression morphed into confusion. “Stay where?”

“Here, on this planet.” He idiotically pointed a gloved finger to the open ramp, like you might not be aware of where you were.

Something unnameable flashed across your features. “Why would you say that?”

“You want to stay—I can tell. I know you’re not happy moving around all the time. It’s okay though. I know you’d be happier here. You should stay. I-I want you to.”

“You… want me to stay?”

“No—no, that’s not what I mean. But you deserve a home and whatever else you want. I want you to stay with me. And-and the kid, of course. I want you to stay with us forever,” he cringed at how sappy that sounded, adding tentatively, “but what I want even more is for you to be happy.”

Your features softened then, eyes warm and bright, and you stepped forward and threw your arms out. Din couldn’t help it—he was so caught off guard by the sudden movement that he flinched away, taking a small step back.

You were unfazed, stepping forward again. “Dammit, Mando, let me hug you.”

Din let out a surprised chuckle, and this time, he stayed still as you tucked your arms around his middle and rested your cheek on his broad chest.

For a long, awkward moment, Din held his arms stiffly out to the sides, too unsure to move. Without leaving your position against him, you reached out and guided one of his hands to the small of your back, and the other followed. You hummed in contentment when his arms were wrapped around you, and he squeezed you softly.

“I am happy,” you said. “My home is with you and the kid, wherever we go together.”

Din’s throat tightened, and an invisible weight lifted from his shoulders. The most he could get out in reply was a slightly choked, “Good.”

But the longer you stayed there, the more he defrosted, growing comfortable in your embrace. His helmet dipped against your ear, and his tense shoulders relaxed, his whole body curving around you. Even through the modulator, he could smell that inexplicable mixture of sunshine and jasmine, and he breathed it in. It triggered the familiar tightness in his chest, but it wasn’t twinged with hurt anymore; it felt like solace.

Remembering that you had been trying to tell him something, he asked, “What were you going to say before?”

“I was going to ask if you were okay. You were obviously upset earlier.” You slipped your hand under the fabric of his cape and rubbed soothingly up the muscles of his back.

“I’m good now,” he reassured you, tugging your body a tiny bit closer. “And I meant it, you know. I want you to stay with us—with me always.”

“I know,” you replied, and he could hear the smile behind your words. “I want that too.”

***

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522 notes · View notes

whiskeynwriting · 2 years

Text

Blurred Lines - Chapter Twelve: Our First Goodbye

Din Djarin x Force Sensitive F!Reader

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Word count: 8.7k (wow)

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) dirty talk, humping/dry humping, breeding kink, praise kink, slight lactation kink, ass play (f receiving), vaginal sex.

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Summary: Memories from the past flow freely through your mind, leading the two of you confess your intentions to Greef and Cara. The future feels bright but an unexpected moment quickly tears that thought to shreds.

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A/N: ok wow I put my heart and SOUL into this chapter. I really love how it turned out, and I hope you guys love it too!

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Blurred Lines Series (Part One) Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

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“What do you want from me, Mando?” you huff out, glaring daggers into the back of his helmet.

“I want you to start pulling your weight.” He grumbles, not bothering to turn around.

“Pulling my weight?!” you fume, stepping toward him. “I’m not the one who almost blew our fucking cover!”

Now, he turns around, towering above you at an unexpected height. He stares down at you, fists curling at his sides as his body stiffens.

“You blew our cover because you can’t keep your mouth shut.” He seethes, “Get out of my way.”

He then steps forward, shoving past you and striding off toward his room. You turn as he does so, watching him walk away with nothing left to say. Your chest heaves with frustration, your brow remaining furrowed as your own muscles tense with frustration.

The Mandalorian was the most stubborn mad you’d ever met, well, if he even was a man. Nobody knows what’s under there, except maybe Xi’an. But even she doesn’t tell. Regardless, he’s a stubborn motherfucker. It had only been a few weeks you’d been working with him and the rest of your crew, and even though you hardly even knew each other, you found yourselves at odds. You worked differently. He was strong and forceful, overtly intimidating and ruthless. You, on the other hand, were swift and supple, a quiet shadow in the dark that took what you wanted without leaving a trace. How the hell could you ever put those two together?

“Why do you keep pairing me with him?” you ask, still agitated from the fight you and Mando had only moments ago.

“You two are the best we got.” Ran replies, fidgeting with the blaster in his hand. “Puttin’ two assassins on the same side, well, how could that not be a winnin’ team?”

“He’s not an assassin.” You spit out, furious that Ran won’t even give you the common courtesy of meeting your gaze. “He’s some tin-can warrior that’s been an absolute pain in my ass.”

“Well,” he sighs, standing from his crouched position. “You wanna get paid, don’t you? Wanna have some place to stay, some food in your belly?”

“Well,” you mumble. “Yeah.”

“Then deal with it.” he grunts out, narrowing his eyes at you before turning to walk away.

You huff out an exaggerated sigh at his response, quickly turning on your heels and storming off to your room to sit and stew by yourself. It’s on the other side of the hanger, and coincidentally, right across the hall from Xi’an.

“Oh, come on.” You hear her say, “She’s not that bad. I’ve worked with her before.”

“It’s not that she’s bad, we just… we just don’t mix well.” The Mandalorian replies, his metallic voice just barely above a whisper.

You stop in front of your door, standing in the empty hall as you listen in on their conversation. You’re surprised he said you weren’t bad at what you do, you’d expected him to rip you to shreds on that one.

“She doesn’t belong here, Xi’an.” He says, making you shoot a glare at the door.

What the hell does that mean?

“You motherfuckers!”

The smile on your face is weak, shy, and maybe even a little embarrassed. There’s no way Din’s isn’t the same, either. At the beginning of the call, you’d been standing next to him, but now, you were backing up behind his chair. You hid your face behind his helmet and the pilot seat, only your nose and eyes peaking out as you hid from your ferocious big sister. And Din, well… he looks normal, to be honest. That Beskar really does hide everything. Lucky bastard.

Her reaction was to be expected. After all, you hadn’t talked to her in weeks. And the last time you saw her, you didn’t get around to telling her the news. You and Din weren’t exactly engaged at that point in time, anyways. But you can poke as many holes as you want into the situation, say whatever you need to make yourself feel better, either way, you did wrong, and you know you did wrong.

“Why the hell wouldn’t you tell me?! And while I’m at it, why the hell haven’t you talked to me?! It’s been weeks!”

“I know,” you mutter, fully rising from your human shield. “I know. I’m sorry, Cara. I’m really sorry.”

“We should have told you.” Din joins in, his low grumble hinting at his own internal remorse.

“Damn right you should have told me. Last time I saw the two of you, you were playing footsies beneath the table. And now you’re married?!”

“We’re not married.” You point out, “Just engaged.”

“Just engaged.” Cara scoffs, turning to laugh. “Just engaged! Greef, hey, she said they’re just engaged.”

“Shut up.” you pout, “You know what I mean.”

She’s making fun of you, very obviously, as she toys with your words. You didn’t mean to make it sound like it’s not a big deal, because it is.

“Why aren’t you happy for them?” Greef asks, holding out his hands as he comes into view.

He wraps an arm around her shoulders, the other planting his hand on his hip. Greef then looks to you and Din, pointing at his side of the holopad.

“They seem pretty happy.”

“They’ve always seemed happy.”

“Exactly my point.” he continues, “Let them be.”

He then pats her back, a teasing smile curling on his lips before he turns back toward the screen.

“Congrats, you two.”

You smile proudly at Greef Karga’s words, looking down at your soon-to-be spouse just as he glances up at you. you like to think he has the same expression on his own face. However, both of your stares shoot back to the screen when Greef continues speaking.

“Think you’ll bring back any more space babies?” he jokes, chuckling to himself.

“What?!” Cara shrieks, “You two made that?!”

“NO!” you shout, leaning forward in exasperation as your voice mixes with the Mandalorian’s.

He sighs deeply, shaking his head before exhaling a light laugh. A small smirk curls over your own lips, your eyes rising back to the holopad to face your home planet’s residents.

“Look,” Cara says, lifting her hands. “It’s not an unrealistic question.”

“Jesus Christ, Cara.” You huff out, “If I ever have kids, I pray they aren’t fucking green.”

“Fuck, come on!” she shouts, swinging even more fervently as she steps your way.

“What?” you giggle, side stepping each swipe.

“You know what.” She hisses, stopping to stand before you while trying to catch her breath.

You take advantage of her stamina, or rather, lack thereof, crouching down and spinning on your heels. You swing your leg out, kicking hers out from under her and forcing her to the ground. It’s a graceful motion, quick and strong as you finish your three-sixty spin, easily standing back up on your feet.

“Ugh!” she groans, shouting out in frustration and slapping her palms on the floor.

Xi’an suddenly sits up, staring up at your cocky stance and satisfied smirk. She then reaches toward her upper, outer thigh. You know what’s coming, immediately sliding on your feet to dodge the quick flick of the knife coming your way. It flies through the air, sinking into the soft aluminum of an air duct on the other side of the room.

“Well, fuck.” Mando sighs, lifting a hand to gesture toward the air now fuming from the duct. “Look what you did.”

“Shut up.” Xi’an spits, whipping her head around to glare at him.

He’d been sitting on a bench off to the side, watching the two of you fight because in all honesty, he didn’t really have anything better to do. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his spread knees as he stares back at her.

“What?” she continues, her anger rising to new heights. “Like what you see?”

“Actually,” he breathes out, “I do.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance; little did you know his eyes flickered up towards you.

It had been a few months since your last incident, and to your surprise, you hadn’t argued in weeks. The two of you continued to be matched as partners for various jobs, and eventually, you got the hang of it. You weren’t exactly friends… let’s just say, you didn’t mind each other too much anymore.

“Hey,” he says, jogging after you once you start walking away.

He taps you on the shoulder, urging you to stop and turn around, which you do.

“What’s up?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Here,” he says, slipping a blaster from his holster and holding it out to you. “Ran just finished it. He thought we could use some new weapons.”

“Ran made this?” you ask, taking the weapon from his hand with hesitancy.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know how reliable it is, then.” You chuckle, tilting the handgun in order to assess its build.

“That’s a good point.” He retorts, huffing out a chuckle himself. “Either way, he wanted you to have it.”

“So, why didn’t he give it to me?” you ask, glancing up at the Mandalorian’s visor.

“He told me to.” He explains, “Something about making us bond.”

“Nice try.” You scoff lightly, looking back down to your newest weapon.

“I wanted to give it to you.” he continues quietly, “I think it’s a good idea for us to bond, too.”

“You do?”

He nods.

“Why?”

“We’re partners.” He says, his voce quiet and sincere. “We need to have each other’s backs.”

He’s right, you realize, as hard as it may be. He’s right. The two of you have grown from enemies to being slightly okay with each other. So, that’s a start, at least.

You couldn’t go through with it, not without Cara by your side. She didn’t even know about your engagement at the time of the celebration back on Corvus, it just wouldn’t be right not to have her involved. She’s been such a huge part of your life for so many years, hell, she’s been a huge part of all three of your lives. Although, you did consider the fact that Ahsoka would’ve been there. Well, maybe you can find her again when the time is right. And Din understands, just like he always does. He’s always so patient with you; he knows he loves you, knows that you love him, and he knows why you didn’t want to get married in that village.

“You know,” Din mutters, resting the chin of his helmet over your shoulder. “I’m glad she didn’t take him.”

“I know you are.” you happily hum, smiling down at the bundle in your arms. “I am, too.”

After your call, the Crest was forced in hyperdrive, this new planet being much farther away than you had expected. The hum of the ship’s engines when they propelled you through space often lulled you to sleep, the gentle shudder having the same effect on the child as he sleeps soundly in your arms.

Your talk with Cara and Greef ended on a good note, thank the Maker. You promised to speak with her more during your travels, and she promised not to blow up the next time she saw you. Win-win. Informing her of your engagement took a massive amount of weight off your shoulders, and anyway, it was the right thing to do.

And now, with the child snoozing quietly, with the engines buzzing softly, the two of you finally relax into one another. You’re on Din’s lap, his legs crossed and providing you the perfect basket to sit your small frame in. You folded your own legs, scooping up the child and plopping him down in your own little basket. Din holding you, you holding the child, all three of you wrapped in the other’s embrace. This feels like home.

“What you said earlier,” Din whispers, “About… your children being green…”

“What?” you reply, turning your head slightly as you huff out a laugh.

“You told Cara that you don’t want your kids to be green.”

“Yeah,” you respond, chuckling a bit. “I don’t.”

“I just –” he cuts himself off, sighing deeply as he gathers his thoughts. “I mean to ask, do you… do you ever think about kids?”

“Sure, I do.” You shrug, glancing back down at green little Grogu snuggled up in your arms.

You don’t really feel the weight of the question, not for a few seconds. But when you do, your pulse quickens, your eyes widen, and you turn your head back toward him once again.

“Do you think about kids?”

He doesn’t respond, he just nods, holding you a bit tighter in his arms. You smile at the physical affection, at the Mandalorian’s softer side. Huh, what a thought, having kids with Din.

“Would you want to have my kids?” he then asks, keeping his voice quiet.

“Maker,” you huff out, “Don’t ask me that.”

You smile as a small shiver runs up your spine, the thought of Din planting a child in your belly exciting you much more than you would’ve thought. He turns his head, curiously tilting his helmet at you.

“What? Why?” he asks, not angered but just extremely confused. You’re to be married, he assumed it would be a natural thing to ask.

“Because it feels wrong to be turned on while having a baby in my arms.” you joke, shaking your head as you laugh.

He chuckles behind you, the arms he has wrapped around your midsection loosening their hold. His hands find your hips, resting gently on the outer bones.

“You like that thought, mesh’la?” he asks, whispering lowly into your ear.

“Din.” You say, the word stern and meant as a warning.

But you don’t say anything else, because in all truth, you don’t want him to stop. Of course, you like that thought, you love that thought. Din mounting you from behind and shoving himself deep, shooting his cum inside you over and over again until he’s sure it takes. You’d be so proud to carry his child.

You hum excitedly as he asks, closing your eyes and sighing out in an attempt to calm the fluttering in your stomach. His gloved hands gently rub your hips, his thumb circling the delicate skin. He leans further in, sliding the smoothness of his helmet across your cheek.

“You want to have my child, sweet thing? Want me to breed you and stuff you full?”

“Din,” you say, sighing out a small giggle, “Stop teasing.”

“I’m not teasing.” He murmurs, sliding his hands up to cup your breasts. “Why don’t you go set the child down?”

“Yeah?” you reply, smirking at his offer.

“Yeah.” He responds lowly, “Then bring yourself back up here.”

You maneuver yourself as best you can, trying not to wake Grogu as he continues to sleep soundly in your arms. You stand from Din’s lap, striding towards the ladder before descending its rods. The bunk was already open, as it usually was when it was empty. Din could settle him in much better than you, being that he was taller and could reach the hammock easier. But, to your luck, the child doesn’t wake. As you stand on your tiptoes, you lightly roll him into the hanging fabric, making sure he’s settled before shutting the door.

“Well,” you say, sighing out once you reach the top of the ladder. “He went down easy, thank the Maker.”

When you get back to the cockpit, Din’s still sitting in his chair, still facing the front windows of the Crest. You walk over to him, curious as to why he didn’t turn around. And when you do, he looks up, jerking his head to the side and silently calling you over to his lap. Only when you go to crawl over him, intent on straddling his hips, he stops you.

“Take these off.” he says, his baritone voice rough and stern. He gestures to your black pants, pinching the fabric in his hands and tugging lightly.

You do as you’re told, sliding the fabric down and off your legs. He then waves at you, gesturing for you to turn around. Facing the control panel, you lower yourself down, straddling his legs and sitting just above his covered crotch. You fold your arms on the edge of the panel, making sure not to hit any buttons in the process. He sighs out once you sit down on him, his gloved hands sliding up to hold your waist.

“Guess I picked a good day.” He acknowledges, pinching at the fabric between your cheeks.

“I guess so,” you giggle back; it’s not every day you wore these panties, being that a washer and dryer combo were often a rare sight for you three.

He pulls the string to the side, fully exposing you to his covered eyes. His thumb immediately rubs over your puckered hole, stroking it ever so gently. But just as you’re getting used to the feeling, he pulls his hands away, roughly tugging at his belt as he frees himself from his underclothes.

“Lift up, baby.” He requests, tapping your outer thigh.

When you do, he pushes his cock forward, his hands eventually guiding you down onto his shaft. Your bare lips rub over his skin as you sit back down, his length resting between the wet skin. His bulging tip barely brushes over your clit, the first ripple in what you’re sure is to be an absolute tidal wave of bliss.

Din’s hands return, spreading you open so his thumb can resume its curious activities. He sighs out, his breathing picking up as he begins rubbing over your hole. You shift your hips over him, lightly rubbing down on his cock. He pokes and prods until you can’t take it anymore, until you just can’t get enough.

“Din,” you whimper. “Please…”

He hums happily at your request, not bothering to answer before dipping his hand lower. His clean digits wiggle between his cock and your sex, gathering the slick leaking over his tip. When he retracts his hand, they go straight to your hole, sloppily rubbing the liquid across the taut skin. Without warning, he slips his middle finger inside, the thick digit sliding entirely down to its last knuckle.

You gasp out when he does it, your hips stalling in place as you lift your head. It burns, stings, but at the same time, feels absolutely amazing. The smooth leather of his other hand rubs slow circles on your hips, his finger stilling inside you as you get used to the sensation.

“Why’d you stop?” his soft voice oh so sweet as he asks. But his next words come out different, lower, sterner, as he demands, “Keep going.”

You whine out at his request, taking a deep breath before resuming your promiscuous act. As you move yourself over him, you unintentionally shift his finger along with you. And for a while, he watches, just sits there and watches you hump his cock and fuck your ass on his finger.

“Sweet girl,” he sings, “you’re dripping all over my Beskar.”

“Oh…” you moan out, throwing your head out and puffing out your chest in the process.

The curve of his tip is rubbing beautifully over your little pleasure peak, the amount of slick leaking from your core only growing in abundance with each passing second. He sees you’ve found a spot you like, so he starts to do some work of his own. He curls his other fingers downward so he can shove his finger inside to the hilt, retracting it slowly and twisting it as he puts it back in.

“You like this? Yeah?” he huffs out, his husky voice sending shivers up your spine.

“Yeah,” you whine, nodding your head and pinching your eyes shut.

You continue rutting over his tip, pleasuring yourself on his naked cock while he plays with your ass from behind. Your arousal continues to climb, your breaths becoming hurried as your hips thrust over his bare crotch.

“I wonder if you could cum,” he ponders, “just like this. Do you think you could, mesh’la? Cum for me real hard so that I can fuck you full?”

“Fuck, Din…” you sigh out, dropping your head down as your peak begins to near.

“You think you can?”

“Yeah,” you gasp out. “Yeah baby, I’m almost there.”

“Fuck,” He huffs out, “You’re so fucking hot. Come on then, cum on my cock. Get it nice and wet.”

Maker, how the fuck does he do this? He always knows what to say, when to say it, how to say it, but only when you’re fucking. Any other time, he’s as quiet and awkward as an introvert at a party, and for Din, everywhere was a party. But now, right now, this is where he could let go, could speak and act on every dirty thought he’s ever had, every naughty sensation he’s ever wanted to feel, and all with the love of his life. Truly, what could be better?

“Yes, yes!” you cry out, rutting down onto him at a hurried pace.

He watches you shove yourself back and forth, back and forth, reveling in the act that’s unfolding before him, unfolding on him.

“That’s it,” he sighs, “Come on, cyar’ika, ner mesh’la dala.”

“Fuck!” you gasp, your legs trembling at the sensation of your high.

He’s never made you cum like this, and your body is rejoicing in the newfound sensation it brings. You jerk your hips over him, feeling him shove his finger in and out of your tight hole while you drip over his cock. His finger slips out of you as you convulse before him, your body shivering in the waves that forcefully wash over you.

“Fuck,” he groans, his eyes never once leaving your body. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

“Fuck yes,” you immediately reply, sighing deeply as you catch your breath.

“Are you ready for me?” he then asks, the question unexpected.

You’re unable to answer him in your lusty haze, your eyes closing slightly as you experience the after shocks of your bliss.

“Tell me you’re ready for me.” He suddenly demands, “Tell me.”

You release a hurried breath, your excitement growing as he does below you. You rub yourself over him, lightly, slowly, shivering in the sensations your overly sensitive core brings.

“I’m ready, baby.”

“Fuck,” he sighs out, his one hand pushing you forward and lifting you slightly from his crotch.

He lines himself up, his tip eagerly prodding at your entrance. His other hand lowers, both gripping your hips as he slips inside. He stretches you open, the sensation burning only slightly, and in the best of ways. He rests the front of his helmet on the back of your head, sighing out deeply once he’s fully seated inside.

“Maker, I loved hearing you say that.” he grumbles, lightly guiding you forward before hauling you backward, his cock sliding out only to slide right back in.

“When I said what, baby?” you reply, your voice sweet and teasing because you know exactly what he means.

“That I want to have your child?” you ask, slowly beginning to fuck yourself on his cock. “To have you breed me?”

You think you’re gaining the upper hand, that you’re making him fall apart beneath you; all while you may be doing just that, he’ll never let the power slip from his grasp.

“Oh!” you gasp out, not expecting his harsh slap on your outer, upper thigh.

“You like teasing lately, don’t you?” he asks, his voice low as he speaks.

“Maybe,” you giggle, sighing out as he readjusts you as he sees fit.

Currently, your legs are spread wide, straddling his own as they sit side by side. But he switches your positioning, maneuvering your legs between his own, and spreading himself wide as he plants his feet on the floor. You begin to wonder why he’s doing this, but it doesn’t take you long to find out. He shoves himself forward, earning a shrill gasp from your delicate lips.

“Is that it?” he asks, now fully thrusting inside. “Huh? Right there? That fleshy little button that makes you shiver when I press it?”

“Fuck, yes! Din!” you cry out, your fingers curling against your skin as you keep your arms folded.

He continues stabbing himself inside, punching up against that delicate spot that makes you see stars. Your ass jiggles as you bounce back against him, his gloved fingers curling into your hips as he continues to shove you down on top of him.

“Maker,” he huffs out, “I fucking love it when you say my name. Say it again. Say the name of the man who’s claimed you, who’s made you his.”

You never knew he’d become so undone at those few simple words. Talking about having his kids, having him fuck you full until you’re leaking and dripping with his spend.

“Din…” you sigh out, “Fuck me…”

“Oh, sweet thing, you’re so fucking good.” He grunts, his fingers digging into your hips. “So fucking good.”

You love this, everything about this; his praise, his dominance, his strength, his absolute adoration for you and your supple body as you bounce back against him. He looks down, his right hand returning to your ass as his middle finger traces the line between your cheeks. It slips inside, still wet from your slick and allowing him easy entrance. He wastes no time matching his pace, his cock and finger thrusting into you at a rhythm that punches the breath from your lungs.

“You like getting stuffed full, don’t you?” he asks, tilting his head behind you. “Stuffed full of your riduur?”

“Not yet.” You tease, repeating his own words.

“Soon,” he replies, twisting his finger inside your ass, his voice hungry and eyes likely hungrier. “Soon.”

He continues grunting and groaning, the harsh noises hitting your ears and doing nothing but intensifying the erotic waves pulsating from your core. He’s completely exerting himself into you, then again, when didn’t he? He was rarely a lazy lover, and even then, he made it good.

“Din, fuck!” you cry out, “You’re, you’re so deep…”

“I need it deep, don’t I?” he asks, his sweet voice just barely out of breath. “Deep in your cunt so I can plant seed inside.”

“Maker…”

“Fuck you full and plant a baby inside you, watch you grow round with child. We’ll raise them to be warriors, won’t we, sweet girl? Raise them to be big and strong, just like their father.”

He grunts out as he shoves himself inside, thrust after thrust as he revels in the welcoming feeling your soft, warm walls give. He leans in, his helmet pressing against your shoulder as he whispers to you.

“Just like their mother.”

“Oh, baby…” you moan out, his words and voice always giving you bliss.

“Do you want my children, mesh’la dala?”

“Yes Din, yes. I want you to fuck me full, cum inside me, as many times as you need, as many times as it takes…”

His hands leave your hips, sliding up beneath your shirt and reaching around to your front. He lets you continue; lets you fuck him to your heart’s content as his fingers find your nipples. He plays with them, pinching them and rolling them between two fingers.

“Oh,” you moan out, throwing your head back. “Baby…”

“That feel good, sweetheart?” He huffs out, gently pulsating his hips upward in time with your thrusts. “Am I making you feel good?”

When you don’t respond, he reaches up through your shirt, grabbing your throat in his hand. He squeezes, ever so lightly, running his thumb over your pulse point.

“Answer me, sweet girl.” He coos, asking so softly, so sweetly.

“Yes! Baby, yes, you feel so good… so fucking good.”

You’re gasping and sighing and moaning, and all for him, all because of him. his hand squeezes once more, almost experimentally, before returning to your chest. He fondles you, weighing you in hand before cupping you roughly.

“I can’t wait to feel these when they’re full.” He sighs out, slowly but deeply massaging you in his large hands. “Watching you feed my child until I’m able to get a taste for myself.”

“Oh fuck,” you desperately sigh out, almost unable to catch your breath.

Your heart thumps wildly in your chest at the thought of Din latched to your chest, suckling on your nipples and tasting the sweet milk the drips from them. Massaging them in his hands and he squeezes more from you, demands more from you. Maybe you’ll have your fist around his cock, letting him slowly rut into your hand while he drinks from you. Or maybe you’ll be on top, riding him languidly and combing through his long locks, cooing softly in his ear while he’s sucking on your pointed peaks.

“You’d be an amazing father, Din.” You express wholeheartedly, resting your head back on his shoulder as he stays in his position leaning over you.

The coolness of his cuirass scrapes across your back, shifting slightly with every deep breath that he takes. He stops toying with your nipples, fully grasping you in hand and rolling his hips up against your ass.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, cyare.”

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cabur.”

You smile as you say it, the word spoken from your lips for the first time. You’d been learning more of his native tongue, studying the Mando’a language whenever you got the chance. Your holopad didn’t offer much, but it offered enough. And now you could call him what he’s always been… your guardian, your protector, your cabur.

“Oh, Maker.” He sighs out, immediately dropping his hands from your chest.

One grabs hold of your left hip, while the other fumbles down to your colliding cores. The pads of his fingers rub fervently over your bud, applying just he right amount of pressure to make you absolutely lose your mind.

“No,” you pant out, swatting away his hand. “Make me cum with your cock, I love when you make me cum with your cock.”

“Yeah?” he grunts, wrapping his strong arms around you and squeezing tightly.

You aren’t ready for the delirious amount of force he’s about to bring you, but hell, you’re barely ever ready for what he brings. He completely lets loose, shoving himself up inside you at a pace you’ve never felt before. And then suddenly, he’s up, standing from his chair and shoving you over the controls.

“Fuck, yes! Din!”

“I’m gonna cum,” he chokes out, his entire body tensing with his release. “Oh, fuck.”

His grunts echo in your ear as he gives all of himself to you, shoving up and forward at an alarmingly powerful pace. The pressure he puts on that beautiful little spot overwhelms you, pushing you over the edge just as he releases into you.

“Maker…yes!” you cry out, feeling his warmth fill your inner channel.

“Fuck.” He grunts out, groaning and panting beside your ear.

The hold he has on you loosens, keeping his arms wrapped around your waist but not as tightly as before. You rest your hips back against him, still keeping your arms folded on the control panel in front of you. You drop your head, slowing your breaths as he does the same. One arm retracts, the smooth leather of his glove running up your side and over your back, gently caressing you as you rest on him.

“So good, sweet thing.” he huffs out. “Always so fucking good.”

“Hm…” you hum, a happy sound as he wraps you in his arms.

You lean back against him, resting in his embrace as his cuirass rises and falls against you.

“I feel like I belong here.” You mutter, nuzzling up against him.

“You do, cyar’ika.” He replies, his voice soft and low as one hand comes up to stroke your hair. “You do.”

You’d noticed that, over the past few weeks, Mando and Xi’an had grown apart. It put a wedge between you and her, too. You couldn’t stop your interactions with him, not if you wanted to keep completing your missions, but seeing the two of you together made her blood boil.

“I don’t know if you should be here with me.” You say, only slightly teasing.

“Why not?” he grunts out, walking next to you to pick up a set of weights.

You’d been training, staying up late into the night in order to keep your body ready for any mission that may pop up. Usually, everyone was asleep by now, but for some reason, Mando wanted to join you.

“Xi’an?” you ask, glancing over at him.

“I’m not worried about her.” he shrugs, “Are you?”

“No,” you scoff, outwardly laughing at the thought.

He doesn’t say anything, his silence causing you, for some reason, to talk even more.

“What happened with you two, anyway?”

Mando’s quiet, grunting slightly as he continuously lifts the weights in his hands. Then, he sighs out, setting them down once he’s satisfied with that rep.

“She just isn’t the one for me.” He explains. You can tell he wants to say more, but instead, you question something else.

“You believe in that?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at him as he takes a seat on a nearby bench.

“What?”

“I just, I didn’t think Mandalorians believed in things like that. In soulmates and marriage.”

He shrugs, his helmet tilting slightly as he looks at you. “I do. Do you?”

“I don’t know.” You admit, shrugging slightly as you take a seat beside him. “Maybe. The idea kind of scares me.”

“Why?”

“Because if I believe that someone’s out there for me, and they aren’t, well… that would be kind of devastating.” You explain, huffing out a nervous laugh.

“I think,” he says, his voice a bit hesitant as he speaks. “If you live your entire life without finding the person you belong to, then you just didn’t look hard enough.”

You look up at him, the sentence making your heart beat in your chest.

“I like that.” you eventually say, smiling shyly while staring into his visor.

“You know,” Mando starts, slowly looking you up and down. “I kind of like you.”

You open your eyes to the small sound of Din’s voice, his laugh, actually. Your heart immediately pounds in your chest, eyes opening fully at the huffed-out chuckle. Your smile blooms innately across your face, making sure to keep quiet so as to not disturb the tender moment. Din calls for his son once again, causing the small green child to glance up at his father. Another chuckle, his head and shoulders jostling a bit as his own smile grows beneath his helmet.

“Give me the ball.” He says, reaching out toward Grogu.

But Grogu only clutches in tighter in his tiny hands, turning away slightly from his father.

“Grogu,” Din says again, sterner this time. “Give me the ball.”

He flexes his gloved fingers upward, coaxing the child to hand it over. Eventually, after a few ore encouraging words from Din, Grogu gives in.

“Okay, here we go.” He says, holding the ball out. “You can have it, just like before.”

You see the child reach out, squinting his eyes as he does his best to connect to the force. Din continues to encourage him, and then, all at once, the ball flies through the airs and into Grogu’s hands.

“Dank farrik!” Din shouts, slapping his knee.

Grogu drops the ball, and your eyes widen in shock. Is he upset?

“Hey, no,” he immediately says, “I’m not mad at you. You did good. When the nice lady said you had training, I just…”

The Mandalorian continues to stumble over his words, sighing out and reaching down for the ball. He lifts it from the child’s lap, offering it to him once more, showing him it’s okay for him to have it.

“You’re very special, kid.”

Grogu coos happily at this, smiling widely and allowing those teeny, little teeth to show.

“We’re gonna find that place you belong, and they’re gonna take real good care of you.”

Grogu stares at his father, and then over to you. It causes Din to look, too, acknowledging your not wakened state.

“Hey,” he says gently, turning to face you. “When did you wake up?”

You smile at him, tilting your head to the side a bit. “When I heard you laugh.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No,” you respond, shaking your head with your smile still displayed on your face. “I love hearing you laugh.”

He stares at you, likely blushing beneath his Beskar. Once the sweet moment fades out, he turns around, fiddling with the control panel and answering you once you ask about the planet you’re quickly approaching.

“This is Tython.” He says, flipping a few more switches. “That’s where we’re gonna try and find him a Jedi.”

His next words are aimed at Grogu, still staring down at the ball in his hands.

“But you have to agree to go with them if they want you to. Understand?” he asks, glancing back at the 50-year-old infant.

“Plus, I can’t train you.” he continues, “You’re too powerful. Don’t you wanna learn more of that Jedi stuff?”

He turns back to the panel, now speaking to himself, convincing himself.

“I agreed to take you back to your own kind, so that’s what I need to do. You understand, right?”

Grogu frowns, staring up at the back of Din’s head. You glance between the two of them, your smile fading as an ugly feeling takes place in your gut. You can tell he’s struggling, can tell that there’s an inner turmoil taking place deep within his chest. He wants to keep him, of course, because how could imagine life without him? The bond they’d created, that the three of you have now created, is incredible. And none of you want that to break.

“Dank farrik.” He grumbles, marching ahead of you through the forest.

You chuckle behind him, your hood up, your head down, and your arms crossed as you follow his lead. The two of you had been sent out, searching for a bounty that had wronged your group’s leader. The chase took you to the planet, Donovia, an unpleasant world of constant rainfall. You had known this because you did your research. Mando, however, clearly did not.

“You should’ve done your –”

“Research,” he spits out, already having heard you say this multiple times. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

You smirk to yourself, glancing up at a completely soaked Mandalorian. The water droplets run down his armor, dousing his underclothes and boots in the cold liquid as he marches on through the woods. He thought there would be some form of cover beneath the threes, but he had thought wrong.

“Hey,” he suddenly says, “There’s a cave over there.”

“Well, what’re you waiting for?” you retort, your sass causing him to glance back at you.

“Let’s go!”

He snaps his head around at your words, instantly jogging over to the cover beneath the rocky cavern. You shudder once inside, releasing a quick exhale before taking off your raincoat. Mando sits on the cave’s floor, rubbing his arms briefly before resting back against the wall.

“You should probably take that stuff off.” you say, moving to remove your own outer clothes.

“What?” he says, looking over at you. “Why?”

“You’ll freeze to death.” You explain, your tone of voice making him feel foolish for not realizing this. “Let’s get a fire going. We can use it to keep us warm and dry out our clothes.”

He nods, agreeing with your plan and moving to find a base for the flames. He does so quickly, but not before becoming distracted by your now revealed frame. You’re not entirely naked, but damn near. You’re sitting in your tank top and panties, wringing out your clothes near the mouth of the cave. He grunts, forcing himself to look away as he gets started on the fire.

“I can’t take it off.” he says, the two of you now huddled around the bright flames.

“What?”

“My armor. I can’t take it off.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t let anyone see my face.” he explains, staring into the fire before him.

“Then keep your helmet on.” You say, raising an eyebrow at him as if it were an obvious suggestion.

He looks over at you, doing his best to keep his eyes on yours as you continue talking.

“You can stay in your underwear, dummy. But you should get your flight suit dry before the morning. If it’ll make you feel better, you can do it when I go to sleep. How’s that sound?”

He swallows, nodding once with a slow tilt of his helmet. You smile, happy to know he’ll use your suggestions. But you know he should do so quick. It had already been more than an hour since you first made shelter inside the cave, and you didn’t want him to start suffering. So, you decide to lie down early, allowing him the privacy he needs to remove his armor and clothes.

“Could you, um…” he says, his voice startling you as you stand “Could you actually, um, guard the mouth of the cave?”

You look down at him, tilting your head in the form of a silent question.

“I just, I’m not really comfortable… doing this.”

You understand now. He’s not used to being so vulnerable; you should’ve been able to realize that. Wanting to make him feel safe, you comply, nodding before walking over and grabbing your blaster. Once seated at the opening of the cavern, you hear him move, cautiously beginning the process of removing his armor. You can hear it, each piece being place on the ground before he unzips his flight suit and removes that, as well.

You smile to yourself, your heart racing a bit in your chest at the realization of the situation. Mando’s behind you, likely naked aside from his boxers. He’s probably sitting at the fire, his helmet still adorning the face you’ve begun to form in your mind.

“Thank you.” he says, his raspy voice low and sincere.

The tenderness of the moment provokes a warmth to blossom in your chest along with a smile across your face. You continue to sit with your back to him, sighing deeply at the sudden wave of emotion that washes over you. He trusts you not to look, to give him this privacy and protect him in his most vulnerable state. You feel proud, honored to be awarded this amount of trust from the Mandalorian, from the man that’s grown to be your closest accomplice.

“Of course.”

Your destination comes quickly, and before you know it, you’re testing out the new boosters on your feet. Din carries the child down, flying next to you through the air. It’s amazing, exhilarating, you truly feel like you’re on top of the world.

Your heart creeps into your throat upon seeing the ancient ruins. You can’t help but feel like you don’t belong here, but regardless, you land. This isn’t about you, this is about Grogu. With that in mind, you walk forward, stepping beside Din and the child as you enter the sacred ground. There’s a large, light brown ball in the center of the place. It feels… inviting. You can’t help yourself, it’s like your feet have suddenly grown a mind of their own. You walk forward, ahead of the duo and over to the round rock. You reach out, staring down at it as you rest your palms on its surface. Instinctively, you climb up, sitting cross-legged on the very top.

“Does this look Jedi to you?” he mumbles, partially to himself but mostly to the two of you.

“What’re you doing?” Din asks curiously.

“I…” you begin, glancing down at the surrounding ground. “I don’t know.”

He stares at you for a moment before looking around, his helmet tilting up and side to side.

“Well,” he says, stepping toward you. “I guess… I guess you sit right here.”

He says it to the child, his mind racing with curiosity and uncertain thoughts. He knows you have a connection to the force, so he assumes this is the right thing to do. If you’re drawn to it, then Grogu must be, too… right?

Slowly, he reaches for him, adjusting him in his hold before handing him to you. Though you’re uncertain, you take him, setting him down in your lap. Grogu feels uncertain too, nervous, even. You can feel it.

“Okay.” Din finally says, backing away. “Here we go. This is the seeing stone, are you seeing anything?”

Grogu coos in your arms, unsure of what to do. You aren’t sure, either. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply and trying to reach out to whatever is there, if anything is there at all. When you open them, you see the Mandalorian, staring at you with what you’re sure are desperate eyes.

You sigh out, shaking your head slightly as your eyes fall from his gaze. “No.”

“Or are they supposed to see you?” he wonders, shifting on his feet as he assesses your surroundings once more.

He clicks a button on his helmet, staring down at the base of the rock as he circles it. He thinks there may be some kind of switch or control, but you doubt that very much. Nevertheless, you let him search, because in truth, you don’t have any better ideas.

Suddenly, a butterfly appears. Blue and black and beautiful as it flies before you. Grogu sees it, too, reaching out toward it with a curious coo. You stare at it, the transformative creature causing a feeling of stillness to wash over you. The two of you are mesmerized by it, you can’t tear your eyes away. It’s like it’s dancing, moving in a display that almost seems rehearsed, like it means something… like it’s meant to show you something.

Din sighs, feeling frustrated and impatience and honestly annoyed once he sees you two fiddling with the butterfly. He shrugs his shoulders a bit, his body language displaying his emotions clearly.

“Oh, come on, kid.” he sighs out, “Ahsoka told me all I had to do was get you here and you’d do the rest.”

When Grogu doesn’t respond in any way, shape, or form, he looks to you. Din calls out your name, asking if you know what to do. And as the dainty insect flies away, you’re now able to return to the present situation. But before you can answer, a mechanic hum causes the three of you to look up into the sky. Din turns, jogging over to the edge of the mountain’s peak and watching as a ship enters the atmosphere.

“Here,”

Your head whips around, curious as to where the voice came from.

“Here,” it repeats, and then you feel something move.

You watch as Grogu leans down, reaching over your leg and planting his palm on the surface of the stone. You do the same, and all at once, you’re surrounded by blue, taken away from this planet and delivered into something new. Grogu’s with you, you can tell; you can feel his aura as he exists at your side. But you can’t see him, can’t even see yourself; it’s your energy that exists here, not the physical vessel your soul chooses to travel in.

It’s almost as if you’re floating, a calm sense of peace surrounding you like a warm blanket on a rainy night. It’s quiet here, it’s comfortable here, but there’s a feeling you have that tells you you’re not meant to just sit and bask in the serenity of this place. You need to move, your eyes looking all around you. And suddenly, you’re searching, desperately searching, but… for what?

“Why are you leaving? You can’t go!” you shout, angry tears streaming down your face.

“This isn’t about you,” he grumbles. “You know that.”

“Then make it about me,” you plead, reaching out and grabbing hold of his bicep. “Make me your reason to stay.”

He stops what he’s doing, stops marching around his room and stuffing things into his bag. He turns his body to look at you, staring down at your pleading eyes. He sees the emotion on your face, sees the few tears you’d allowed to spill from your lids, the only tears he’d ever seen trickle down your face. It makes his chest ache, his muscles tightening as his own face contorts in frustration. He can’t stay with your group, not after all that has happened. And with that thought now in his head, he turns, walking away from you and out of his room.

You follow him, jogging after the Mandalorian as the two of you make your way onto the loading deck. Xi’an is out there, watching the scene unfold along with Ran and the other members of your fucked up family.

“I don’t want you to go.” You express once again, your crying voice stopping him in his tracks.

“Come with me.” He says, turning to face you.

You pause, your face twisting in confusion. You hadn’t expected him to ask you that; you hadn’t even thought of that idea at all. He waits for your response, his body stilling before you as he stares down. Mando’s chest rises and falls, and you assume it’s out of frustration, but in this moment, it’s out of fear. He wants you to come with him, desperately wanting you by his side. He expects you to say yes, knowing how badly you don’t want him to leave. But to his surprise, to his absolute dismay, you don’t. You refuse, eventually deciding that you can’t leave, that it’s best for you to stay.

Without another word, he turns, walking off to the ship he’d chosen to get him the hell out of there. You watch with tear-filled eyes, with shaky limbs and a heart full of regret, as he powers the craft up, backing it out into the black abyss of the galaxy beyond.

Even when he flies off, he doesn’t look back. He can’t look back. He has to come to terms with the fact that you said no, that you chose to stay instead of go, and that the chances of seeing you again were impossibly slim. He chokes out a small gasp, taking in a big breath of air as he attempts to steady himself.

You’d broken him, you’d absolutely broken his heart.

When you’re finally let go, you open your eyes, sighing out in exhaustion and wavering slightly on the rock. You manage to catch yourself, balancing atop it while finding a frantic Grogu still nestled in your arms.

Immediately, you see them, four black troopers marching toward you. Grogu gasps out, but your instinct is to fight. You grab him in one hand, leaping from the rock and onto your feet. You go to throw a punch, but your fist is caught by the machine. You cry out in pain as it clutches you tightly. Another trooper snatches the child from your hands, and the one with the hold on you quickly wraps you in his arms. All at once, they shoot upward, flying into the air with you and child in hand.

You struggle against the machine’s arms, but it’s no use. You look around, your eyes quickly finding the child as he cries out beside you. Then, you look down, seeing Din standing next to a woman you’ve never met. You then see a ship fly through the air, seemingly coming right for you. But before it can reach you, it stops, dropping down a bit to follow the trooper’s trail up into the air from below.

Your eyes widen in horror as you look up, an Imperial Cruiser coming into view once the clouds part. The troopers fly toward the entrance, gliding inside the large, open doors. They close behind you, sealing you and the child inside the enemy’s ship.

Thank you for reading <3

Chapter Thirteen: Which Path to Choose

Mando’a Translations

Blurred Lines Taglist: @kyjoraven @din-is-a-real-mando @marvelouslyme96 @lexloon

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arahxdjarin · 2 years

Text

Working Together

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader

Word Count: 5k

Tags: rough sex, mando is mean, reader is meaner, knives!, unprotected sex, PIV sex, fucking in a forest, hatefucking, choking, spit, mad dirty talk, plot twist !!!

Notes: Hi besties! here's part two of Working Together, I'm not sure how many chapters I plan on adding, or when I'll actually be able to update, so just keep your eyes peeled. And as always, enjoy!! ily all!!

Working Together, Part 2

You walk into the small backwater cantina, surprised at how busy it is, your eyes easily find the shiny helmet of the Mandalorian. You walk over to him and drop down into the seat across from him, his gaze focuses on your face.

“I almost pinched myself when Karga said you wanted to meet with me, you’d think me shooting you would be a turn off to work with me again.” Mando pushes a shot of spotchka in your direction, you pick the glass up and pretend to inspect it.

“You do the opposite of turning me off atin dala, I need your help with a job.” It’s the first time you’ve heard his voice since you last worked with him all those months ago, you clench your thighs together. “Is the big bad Mandalorian asking for help?” You clutch your chest in fake shock, trying to brush off how seeing him is affecting you. He shakes his head and places a puck down on the table, the presumed target’s face pops up, your eyes widen in recognition.

“Xi’an, a mercenary, she’s racked up quite a few bounties. Karga gave me her puck because I’ve worked with her in the past. He’s hoping I can bring her in without a fight.” You study the twi’lek’s pale purple face, you suppress a cringe thinking of the last time you encountered her. She abandoned you for dead, taking all your credits leaving you with a long slash down your face, and a few scars on your back. Thank god for bacta or you would have been disfigured for life. She’s a backstabber in a figurative sense and a literal one. The thought of getting pay back entices you enough to hear him out.

“Yeah I know her, she left me for dead back before I joined the guild. She’s dangerous but is this really a two person job? Splitting the credits would barely be enough to cover the fuel cost.” Mando turns the puck off and sets it back on his belt. He shifts his hips, throwing his arms back to rest against the top of his seat.

“Don’t worry about my credit split. I have — history with her and would rather have a second hunter I trust there to cover my back.” You notice the way Mando pauses to find the right word to describe his past with her. You narrow your eyes and watch him closely, hoping he’ll give something away with his body language. His fingers twitch slightly but outside of that he’s still as a statue.

“History? Like you fucked her or something? Also, you trust me? I would be flattered if I didn’t think that was the biggest fucking lie I’ve heard.” You hear a faint sigh come through his modulator.

“Yeah, or something. And it isn’t a lie, now are you up for the job? We can even split the credits 60/40 in your favor.” You finally take the shot of spotchka you’ve been holding for the entire conversation. You give him a curt nod which he returns.

“We’ll take the Crest, it’s in the lava pits North of here, meet me there when you’re ready little vixen.” Mando stands as he speaks, leaving credits on the table to pay for your drink. He works his way through the cantina quietly, leaving you at the now vacant table.

The ability to work with Mando again was intriguing, it was hard to deny he and you work well together, and the — encounter on the Crest after the mission definitely helped sweeten the pot. You sigh and lean back, just because you’ve fucked him once doesn’t mean it’ll happen again, especially if you’re hunting Xi’an, that bitch is insane. It seems you both have history with her as well, she stabbed you and Mando stabbed her, with his cock. You slam your eyes shut as the jealous thought runs through your mind. It doesn’t matter who or what Mando fucks, just because you two had a hot, vicious moment after a close call doesn’t mean you get to stake some kind of claim over him. You push yourself to a standing position and work your way to the door, may as well go get this mission done with and take your credits. You promise yourself nothing devious will happen between you and the Mandalorian, you gotta set some boundaries with him. You can't go into this mission thinking with your pussy, she always gets you into fucking trouble.

You make your way to your own ship, gathering the supplies you need. You were able to see Xi’an last known location was on a forest planet a few systems away, you change into a dark green tunic and some armored brown leather pants. You grab all the weapons you’ll need. As you walk down the ramp of your light cruiser you turn and look at your astromech droid that you bought with the credits from your last mission with the Mandalorian. You smirk to yourself as you think about bringing him with you, you don’t know what Mando’s aversion to droids was about but R-3 could prove useful. You stride back over to him and power him on. He beeps excitedly and moves forward to bump into your legs, letting you know he doesn’t appreciate the extended sleep you put him in.

“Yeah, I know, I know I’m a dick, but come on buddy we have a mission to go on.” R-3 chirps his curiosity but follows you down the ramp. You and R-3 make your way to the lava-pits. You easily make out the Crest, the old piece of shit has survived the clone wars, the empire and Mando’s bad piloting, nothing could destroy it. You stop outside the open ramp and peer in. Mando stands with his arms crossed, his helmet focused on the silver and orange droid at your feet. You look down at R-3, he looks up at you and beeps his concern. You turn your gaze to look at Mando, his helmet now looking at you.

“No droids.” He turns and walks further into the hull of the ship.

“Tough shit buddy, R-3 is smart, capable and has gotten me outta of quite a few sticky situations. I’m either bringing him or I’m not coming.” You watch Mando tense, he turns, you know you can't see his eyes but you can still feel the glare he’s throwing your way. You place your hands on your hips and hold his eye— helmet? Contact. You’re in a stare down for a few minutes before R-3 beeps again, causing you to turn your attention to your droid.

“R-3 you’re familiar with the Razor Crest systems?” R-3 beeps and moves closer to the Crest taking it in.

“R-3 says he can navigate and autopilot this ship, and has before. If we’re in another situation like last time it’ll be an asset to have him make a quick escape if necessary.” Mando shakes his helmet and walks down the ramp until he’s chest to chest with you.

“I’m not letting a droid pilot my ship, it can come but it isn’t touching anything, got it?” You narrow your eyes at the T in his visor and give a quick nod, you lean past Mando to look at your droid.

“Get on the ship buddy, we’re leaving for the mission now, and don’t touch anything Mando may try to shoot you.” R-3 lets out a nervous beep but quickly works his way up the ramp and onto the ship. You place a hand on Mando’s chest armor and give it a quick pat.

“See that’s what compromise looks like, don’t look so glum rust bucket, R-3 has some hilarious jokes.” You walk past the angry Mandalorian and follow your droid up the ramp and into the Razor Crest. Your body heats as you look at the wall where you and Mando ruthlessly fucked. Your breath catches as Mando presses his chest into your back.

“Try having to look at it everyday atin dala, it’s been a grim few months without you.” You turn your head and lean it back to look at his helmet.

“You got 2 working hands, I’m sure it hasn’t been that grim.” You try to make your words cut deep but your voice betrays you and it comes out much more breathy than you wanted. You kick yourself as Mando chuckles.

“I’d much rather have my hand wrapped around your throat than have it wrapped around myself” you close your eyes and try to compose yourself, you finally move putting some distance between him and yourself. You turn and point an angry finger at his chest.

“Boundaries Tin can, we need boundaries. Xi’an is a dangerous bitch and I’m not looking to get a matching eye scar because you want to get your dick wet. This mission is gonna be all business, got it?” You emphasize your point by poking his chest with your finger.

“Whatever you say atin dala.” Mando brushes past you to the ladder that leads to the cockpit.

“Think with the right head Mando, I’m going to be pissed if you get me fucking killed.” You follow him up the ladder, turning quickly to look at R-3. He’s settled himself into a corner and looks pretty content. You throw him a look and he turns his head to see if you’re looking at him, you roll your eyes and raise an eyebrow. He lowers himself closer to the ground, telling you he’ll behave. You get into the cockpit and heave yourself into one of the seats with a sigh. Mando is working the controls preparing to pull the Crest off the surface of the planet.

“I would never let you die little vixen, I’d protect you with my life. Trust that.” You roll your eyes and let out an unattractive snort.

“Do women usually fall for that kind of shit? I can handle myself just fine, don’t feel like you need to play the role of my protector or something. Unburden yourself, rust bucket.” You pull out a small knife twirling it in your fingers. It reminds you of the last mission you guys worked on and he asked you not to stab him on his own ship, you stifle a laugh at the thought.

“Gods you’re fucking annoying, I don’t think you need some kind of protector, I’m not laying on the charm or whatever it is you think I’m doing. I asked you to help me with this mission, of course I’m not going to let you fucking die.” You open your mouth to insult him again but he turns quickly and catches the knife in your hands. He moves the knife to rest against your cheek before dragging it down and pressing it to your throat.

“You’re always so quick with comebacks atin dala, I know it's a defense mechanism. But for once, please just shut the fuck up.” Mando throws the knife into the air, catching it by the blade and holds the hilt out to you. You grab it quickly, he turns to continue navigating the Crest into the atmosphere. You stay quiet, not because he told you to but watching him handle that knife was fucking hot. You don’t trust your filterless brain and traitorous pussy to not say something horny and stupid.

The rest of the flight is spent in silence, you watch as the stars and planets pass you in blurred lines. Before you know it the Crest is dropping out of hyperspace and Mando is navigating the Crest through the dense forest atmosphere, concealing the ship with all the foliage. You slide down the ladder and find R-3 in the same spot you left him. He moves closer to you, opening a compartment on his body, displaying one of your smaller pulse guns. You grab it and sling it across your back and make sure your vibroblades and blaster are still secure. You open the small bag you brought with you and pull out a vambrace similar to Mando’s, you’ve been working on this for quite a while and you were ready to put it to the test. You place it on your right arm and make sure it’s comfortable by throwing a few punches to the air, swinging your arm around to make sure it doesn’t fly off if you’re mid-fight. Mando’s voice brings you out of your routine check.

“What is that?” You turn your head in the direction of his voice and find him outfitted with just as many weapons as you.

“It’s a deflector shield, it absorbs impact from blaster fire, knives and some smaller pulse guns. It has a 5 square foot radius, just big enough to protect me from Xi’an’s crazy fucking knife throwing. You got your armor, I got this.” You tap the small screen on your arm and brace yourself as it beams to life, it hums quietly, glowing a light blue color. Mando reaches out and touches it, pulling back his hand quickly as it gives him a warning shock. You smirk as he shakes out his hand.

“I’ve been prototyping it since my last run in with Xi’an, I’ve finally worked out all the kinks and issues.” You fling your arm down and the shield disappears back into the arm piece. Mando nods slowly at you, pulling his own vambrace close to his face, seconds later the ramp on the hull begins to descend.

“Well let's go find her.” You nod and follow him down the ramp into the uninhabited dense forest, the smell of wet dirt hits you at the same time as the humid air. Your eyes widen as you realize this is gonna fucking suck, searching this humid wasteland of endless hiding places, youre already irritated as you feel sweat forming on the back of your neck. You turn your head and see R-3 following closely behind you.

“No buddy you stay here with the Crest, I’ll com you if we need an emergency evac.” R-3 backs up the ramp and settles into the hull of the Crest again. Mando sighs loudly and raises the hull of the ship.

~~~

“I’m not letting the droid pilot my ship.” You roll your eyes and continue to follow behind him on a narrow path into the thick of the trees you’ve been following for close to two hours now.

“Get over yourself you rusted can of expired ratios, if we’re in a situation where we need a quick getaway R-3 will be fucking useful.” Mando spins to pin you against him but you’re finally catching onto his moves. You pull your vibroblade from its holster and hold the tip of it against the crotch of his flight suit. Mando cringes, his hand catching your wrist, trying to pry the vibroblade away from his delicate area.

“Don’t fool yourself atin dala, you’d never harm me like that, you love my cock too much to see it hurt.” You muster all your strength, trying to press the tip further into the bunched up fabric.

“How sure are you of that, you shiny mudscupper?” You hear a soft growl come through Mando’s helmet, he twists your wrist in a painful manner making you drop your vibroblade, you cry out and Mando uses his other hand to grab your neck forcing you to walk backwards until your back is hitting the damp trunk of a large tree. Mando pins your hand above your head, his grip on your throat tightening. Your eyes widen and you try to claw his hand off you with the only free one.

“Have you gone too long without me fucking the disrespect out of you? Is that what you need before we can work together to get this bounty? Do you need me to pin you to this forest floor and show you who exactly is in charge here?” You kick your legs out trying to fight him off of you. Mando pins his hips against you, leaving your lower half immobile, his grip on your neck isn’t loosening and your head is starting to get very light and wobbly.

“Fuck — you.” You’re able to choke the words out and for good measure you gather all the moisture in your mouth and spit it directly onto the front of his helmet.

“Gladly atin dala.” Mando lets go of your wrist, only to wrap his hand in the hair at the base of your neck, he hauls you forward, you thrash, clawing at his hand trying to get your hair free from his hold. He pushes you down until you’re forced to your knees, he presses you forward more, until the side of your face crushes against the wet dirt of the forest floor. His hand doesn’t loosen its grip in your hair as his other works to pull your pants down over your ass. Your fingers grip the moist ground, digging into the dirt as you wiggle your hips still trying to put up some sort of a fight.

Mando rubs the front of his flight suit against your bare ass, you have to bite your tongue from letting out a moan from feeling his hard cock through the rough fabric. You hear fabric rustling, you gasp as you feel the head of his cock rubbing through your folds.

“Is this what you want? Be honest.” Your fingers dig deeper into the dirt as you thrust your hips back, trying to get him to brush against your throbbing clit. Mando lands a loud, aggressive slap across your ass that makes you scream out, you realize he’s waiting for an answer.

“Obviously, just fuck me!” You scream the words out, dirt getting into your mouth as you speak, you grit your teeth waiting for him to thrust into you. He teases your entrance before moving his cock up to touch your asshole, you let out a panicked yelp. You hear Mando chuckle, his cock moving back down to your entrance. His gloved hand comes into view, his hand in your hair pulling your head up slightly.

“Spit.” You gather more moisture in your mouth and spit it into his waiting palm, “see, this is a much better use of your spit atin dala.” His hand moves away from your face, your head presses back into the cool, moist ground. You wiggle your hips again trying to entice him to enter you. His cock teases your entrance again before dipping down to rub against your neglected clit, you gasp as he harshly rubs his head against the bundle of nerves. You start grinding your hips back and let out a scream that turns into a moan as Mando suddenly slams into you all at once. His hand presses into the flat of your back, making you arch it even more, he feels fucking perfect inside of you, the angle has his cock dragging against your sensitive walls in the most delicious way. Mando lets out a grunt as he drives his hips into you at a forceful pace, you feel the tip of his cock hitting your cervix with every thrust, it was painful but you’re a weird fuck who loves a bit of pain with your pleasure. His hand drags down to knead and grab at the skin of your ass. You start rocking your body back to meet his thrusts. Your fingers are almost completely covered in dirt now as you fight to find purchase in the cool ground.

Mando’s hand snakes down across your hip, down underneath you and between your thighs to rub at your clit. The leather against your skin makes you hum in pleasure. His pointer and middle finger work expertly to drive your desire and pleasure even higher.

“Fuck Mando, all it took was a few insults to get you this riled up?” Mando slams his hips against you ruthlessly, letting all his anger and hatred to pour into fucking you.

“What can I say, I’ve been waiting for months for your smart mouth to get you in trouble again atin dala.” His hand in your hair drags you up until your back is flush against his chest. You spit the dirt out from your mouth and moan as the angle changes again.

“Dirty fucking girl, this is what you deserve, to be covered in filth while I fuck you as I please.” Your dirt covered hands wrap around his forearm that’s covering your stomach, your nails dig into the fabric, you circle your hips, adding another sensation. Mando groans, his hand tightening in your hair further.

“If you keep pulling my hair like that I’m gonna be fucking bald.” You grit the words through your teeth, the pain in your scalp almost overwhelming the pleasure. His hand loosen and lets go of your hair all together, he abandons that to grab at your throat instead, his fingers wrapping around your entire neck. Mando forces your head back until you’re forced to lean your head on his shoulder, your eyes meeting the sunlight peeking through the thick trees above you. Mando works quicker circles around your clit, his hips driving into you harshly causing your breast to bounce with every impact.

“Is that better little vixen?” Mando’s voice is unhinged and raspy, the cool metal of his helmet resting against your overheated cheek. You were sure you could cum from the sound of his voice alone. Your eyes loll into the back of your head as your pleasure continues to rise. You circle your hips again trying to elicit another groan from Mando.

“Close your fucking eyes.” You do as he says and slam your eyes shut, cutting off your sight of the trees. His hand moves away from your clit, you hear a soft click noise and something drops down onto the ground. His hand returns to your clit quickly. His voice comes next to you, but it sounds different this time.

“Keep your fucking eyes closed until I say different.” You realize you’re hearing his unmodulated voice for the first time. Your cunt clenches around him as his words purr through your mind. His hand around your throat snaps your head to the side and suddenly his lips are on you, his tongue fights with yours, his teeth bite the sensitive skin of your lower lip, you hiss in pain, realizing he drew blood. He smashes his lips against you desperately like he’s trying to taste every part of you. You reciprocate, your mind racing a mile a minute trying to conceptualize that if you opened your eyes right now you’d see him, really see him. Of course you would never do that, you may hate the guy but you know his code is everything to him and he’s leaving himself vulnerable in your hands right now. You’d never betray the trust he’s showing you. Mando continues to slam his hips into you, your stomach tightens, your entire body humming with the ecstasy of your impending release. You grind your hips against him, meeting every one of his thrust as you continue your mouth's pursuit to claim his. Mando groans into your mouth and your cunt flutters around him again. His fingers continue their assault on your clit, all of it working in perfect harmony to get you off.

“Mando — fuck I’m so close.” Mando licks into your mouth, his lips moving to bite and suck on the sweaty skin of your neck.

“Let go atin dala, come undone for me.” Your fingers dig deeper into the fabric on his arm, you feel the muscles moving under his suit. You squeeze your eyes shut further as your climax crashes into you, you let out a loud scream, thrashing viciously in his arms as your orgasm fills your body with liquid heat. You feel wetness gush out of you, drenching your thighs and most likely Mando as well.

“Fuck, that was so hot. I’m close little vixen.” You can hear the lewd sounds of his hips thrusting against you. Your body slumps against him, he supports your body weight with his arms. His hand that was occupied with your clit moves to wrap around your waist, holding you to his chest. Your head falls back to rest against his shoulder. The hand on your throat works soothing circles into the skin there. He murmurs praise and curses into your neck.

“Where do you want me to cum?” His voice sounds strained like he’s trying his hardest to hold on, his hips stutter a bit.

“Not inside me.” Mando quickly pushes you forward. Your hands barely have time to catch yourself before crashing face first into the dirt again. Mando pulls out of you and groans loudly, he lets out a small whine and then slumps forward onto your back. His breathing comes out as quick if not quicker than your own. Mando rests against you for a second before pulling away quickly. You stay in your position until he speaks again

“You can open your eyes, let's get cleaned up and continue on the path.” You nod your head slowly, still trying to regain your thoughts. You push yourself up to your knees and stand on shaky legs. You open your eyes and look at Mando. He’s completely put together again, except for the very noticeable wet spot on the front of his flight suit. You let out a loud laugh.

“Fuck it looks like you peed yourself.” You continue to laugh as you pull your pants on, Mando looks down and shakes his head.

“That’s from you atin dala, and it was fucking hot, I’ll gladly wear your cum. Let everyone know only I can do this to you.” You roll your eyes at his words but can't help the heat that rises through your body. He was right, no one has ever made you cum quite that hard before. You grab your abandoned vibroblade and continue behind Mando on the path like before.

~~~

You continue through the forest until it leads you to a small opening. Both you and Mando arm yourselves, ready for Xi’an to jump out. You arm your deflector shield. Holding it up to protect your face and chest from any of her fucking knives. You stalk around the opening, taking both sides, keeping your eyes peeled. You come up empty, there’s nothing and no one here. Mando turns on his infrared sensor to try to pick up some kind of footprints but can’t find anything besides your own and some animals. He even climbs a nearby tree with his scope to search for heat signatures. He comes up blank. You continue to survey the area. Ready for a fight. After another 6-7 hours of tracking it becomes apparent Xi’an isn’t here.

“You stay here and continue to track, I’ll go back to the Crest, do a scan of the planet and then I’ll come to that small opening and pick you up.” You nod your head and break away from him to continue your tracking, another hour or so passes before you com in to Mando.

“Anything?”

“No.” You curse quietly to yourself, how could his tracking fob be wrong? You continue to work your way through the dense forest for a few more hours before Mando’s voice comes through your com.

“Nothing on the planet except a few outposts two clicks away from the opening we were in, I’ll be in that opening in 2 hours, doing one last scan.” You sigh and let out a loud curse. She fucking played you guys somehow, and now you’ve wasted an entire day hunting someone who isn’t even on the fucking planet. You trudge back to the opening, your entire body covered in sweat and sore from your early activities with Mando. You get to the opening after an hour or so of walking. You immediately lay down on the cool grass, crossing your ankles looking into the sky waiting for the Mandalorian to return. You hear the Crest before you see it, standing to your feet, getting ready for him to put it down on the ground. But he keeps it hovering about 30 feet above the ground. You watch as the ramp of the hull extends. Your eyes narrow as you watch R-3 fall from the ramp. Your eyes widen as he falls through the air and lands in a pile of mud not far from you. You run full sprint to him, pulling your com out to communicate with Mando.

“Mando what the fuck was that? What are you doing?” You reach R-3, kneeling next to him to wipe the mud off making sure he’s ok. He lets out a few soft beeps. Your eyes roam over his entire form, there was a good size dent but nothing looks broken.

“You and R-3 are smart, and capable. You don’t need me to play protector for you right? This is just another sticky situation for you two. There’s an outpost 2 clicks north of this opening. I put some credits in the droid. Good luck.” The ramp to the hull closes and the Crest begins to lift into the atmosphere. Your entire body fills with rage as you watch the Crest leave you and R-3 behind.

“Mando the next time I see you, I’m going to strip that fucking armor from your body and I’m killing you.”

“I look forward to it atin dala, until next time.” You hear the humor in his voice as the Crest continues to get smaller and smaller until it finally disappears in the atmosphere.

You gather R-3, double checking he’s ok before you both begin the journey to the outpost Mando told you about over the com. The Mandalorian left you, he fucking left you. You were going to fucking kill him. Fuck working together, he just started a war.

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winchesterxxi · 3 years

Text

Gentle Pathways (Din Djarin x Reader)

Rating: M (Mature)

Type: Fluff & Smut

Summary: “all these people keep posting how rough a horny Mando can be but I mean, come on, that man probably hasn't been touched as in skin-to-skin contact since he put the helmet on - we all saw his reaction to Grogu touching his face. So how do you think a touch starved Din would react to reader getting close to him?”

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: No clear time frame except that it’s between S1 and S2; Blindfolding; Smut (Virgin!Din, loss of virginity, blowjob, vaginal penetration, swearing, unprotected but consensual sex)

A/N: Vanilla!Din and Soft!Din GIVE IT TO ME, WE NEED MORE and yes I know the gif is of Kylo and Ren leave me alone.

MASTERPOST | REQUEST HERE | KO-FI

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It was late at night inside the Razor Crest, although no one could tell if it were otherwise because, as you could see through the front of the cockpit, the cold gloom of hyperspace engulfed the ship on all sides.

The Child was fast asleep and had been for a while now, and you were just finishing inserting some coordinates on the navigation panel as Mando asked you to, before leaving you alone and walking to his makeshift chamber. After doing as instructed your hand brushes against something that falls to the floor of the cockpit with a clatter.

Looking down, you notice that it’s Mando’s e-comm, easily identifiable by the big silver-colored scratch across one of its buttons. He never leaves it out of his sight, even when sleeping, that thing is always at arm’s length so you assume that he probably forgot it.

Standing up with the device in hand, you turn off any unnecessary light in the cockpit before heading towards the direction Mando went just a few minutes ago.

After you reach the steel door, you let your knuckles hit it about three times, before hearing a muffled Come in coming from the other side.

Sliding the doors open you step inside of his room, as he stands in front of you, back facing you, still fully clothed. His helmet rotates slightly over his shoulder as he directs his voice to you.

“What is it?”

“You left your e-comm on top of the navigation panel.” you tell him, extending your hand as your feet follow and you get close to him “I know you always have it on you no matter what, so I brought it to you.” your hand softly lays the device on the table against which he was leaning.

Your face comes dangerously close with the beskar on his shoulder blades and you swear that despite everything in you telling otherwise and that beskar is cold, that you could feel warmth irradiating from it.

Mando strangles a little thank you that you acknowledge with a nod of your head before awkwardly walking back and away from him.

What there was no way of you to be aware of was that the device was left back in the cockpit on purpose. Not in the sex bait type of way, but in the Will she notice this and hence confirm that she also bears some feelings for me for noticing such small things and being attentive enough to come and return it.

A fairly explicit and complex thought, he knew, but that’s exactly what you did to him. Or have been doing for the past year to his head. Although he might not be very skilled in articulating more than one single-worded phrase at a time, his mind is constantly racing. Constantly formulating this extremely clear ways of disclosing his true feeling for you that get stuck in his throat making it shake with anxiety and instead making him opt for the safer options of a simple thank you or You didn’t have to.

Like what he just did. He wanted to facepalm himself right there and then, weren’t it for your presence.

But he’s had enough. This man has fought virtually every deadly creature in this planet and sure enough this little crush as he tried to convince himself so many times was the scariest of them all for him to face. But enough is enough.

“Y/N.” He croaks out, turning to face you.

You hum and turn around almost instantly, surprising yourself at how easily you reacted to him.

“I - ..... I,...” he tries. He really tries.

“You what, Mando?” you question, brows furrowed while taking slow steps towards him, worried that there is something wrong.

“I ... have...feelings for you.” Your cheeks heat up but you look down avoiding getting overly excited, as this could go one of two directions.

“What type of feelings?” you ask cautiously.

“Feelings.” The padding inside of his helmet feel like fire right this moment, and the urge to curse himself has never been this strong.

But you understand. And he sees that you understand by the way your eyes almost pop out of your sockets and your mouth hangs open.

“Oh.” you manage to voice before being struck by utter and absolute confusion “Me? You’re sure about that?.... I’m an absolute trainwreck of a person!”

The tension that he was holding in his body due to the confession suddenly left him in the form of a low chuckle, making you even more embarrassed. “I love you just the way you are.”

“You what?!” your heart stops.

“I...” that’s when it dawns on him what it just said. This man spent months hiding his feelings from you and, just like that, under a minute he goes from saying that he has feelings for you to telling you that he loves you.

“... I love you.” he says, this time more sure of himself.

You pause a moment and look at him, eyes surely meeting something behind his darkened visor and your expression softens.

“I... I think I love you to.” you finally admit, finally letting go of your own months of repressed feelings, that now so easily slipped out to the man in beskar in front of you.

Mando slowly walks up to you, praying that you don’t run away, all the while pulling at a piece of fabric that he had wrapped around his elbow. Your eyes follow his movements before looking up at him and nodding, knowing exactly what he is about to do.

His hands disappear behind your head and then you’re surrounded by darkness.

Being deprived of your vision heightens all of your senses and you can now very clearly hear his breathing. His unfiltered breathing.

“Did you...?” you ask, but he doesn’t let you finish.

“Yes.”

His ungloved hand slowly finds your own, bringing your knuckles to meet his lips. You shiver at the contact. Slowly, he brings up his other hand to cradle your cheek, delicately replacing your knuckles with your lips.

You thoroughly melt against his touch, resting your hands upon his chest plate for some balance as he pulls you in closer, ever so gently. The kiss wasn’t too sloppy, but you could feel his inexpertness, but his lips were so soft that everything else was forgotten. And oh how you loved the tickle of his facial hair against you.

What began as a sweet kiss quickly escalates and the both walking into the nearest wall as his hands explore your clothed body, months of previously undiscovered sexual tension arising to the occasion and you could feel how excited he was getting.

The only pleasure Mando had even known had been at his own hand. And even that, he took care of as a chore, a release of pressure, just getting himself off for the day so that he wouldn’t get distracted.

“Wait.” he pulls away, out of breath “I know that you want to take this further, but I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” you query “Disappointed how?”

“I don’t know how to do this... I’ve never done this.” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you can imagine how he is motioning with his hands between the both of you.

“You’re a virgin?”

“Yeah.” he shyly admits, rubbing the back of his head.

“No, that’s - that’s completely fine. I just... wasn’t expecting it?”

“Why?”

“You’re a bounty hunter and, well, word runs on the streets. Besides, the way Xi’an spoke to you back when we went to that prison or the things she said, I thought-”

“Nothing ever happened. Not with her, not with anyone ever. She did try, several times, but I always pushed her away.” he couldn’t bear to have you think that there was ever anyone before you.

“Oh.”

“But I want to do it with you. Here, now.” he confesses, resting his forehead against yours.

“Are you sure? I mean, having sex means that you’ll have to -” you begin, knowing fully well the implications

“I’m sure. I trust you.” he assures you with a gentle stroke on your cheek.

“Okay, then.”

“Okay.”

With your eyes still closed, you feel the knot in the back of your head loosen, and the pressure around your temples dissipating, slowly bating your eyes open. It was extremely dark in the room, but you could still make out some shapes, the disheveled curls and the prominent nose and his eyes. His eyes. You couldn’t make out what color they were but they were as dark as the sky outside this ship, with a slight glimmer as he looks down at you.

Haltingly, you lift your hand to his right cheek, stopping right next to it.

“Can I?” he nods and your rest your hand where you intended, and he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply and leaning into your touch, a pitiful look washing your face. “How long haven’t you been touched like this?”

“Since I swore to the Creed.” he confides, in a soft voice.

“That’s a long time.”

“I know.” he agrees and you bring your face close to his.

“Is this okay?” you question, not wanting to go to hard and break any boundaries.

“Yeah” Smiling up at him, you lean up and press your lips to the skin on the side of his neck, tugging down at his collar. Shuddering next to your ear, Din lets out a soft moan.

Your hands roam the front of his body, before tapping against his chest plate.

“Can i take this off?”

“Please” he almost begs.

One by one, you remove the pieces of beskar that adorn his body, letting him discard of your own clothes after, and finally having you take off his last layer of clothing. This alternate game, painfully slow eased the nervousness out of the both of you - even though he was the inexperienced one, you were more nervous to be with him than you had with any other man.

The others were just quick affairs or one night stands, no one ever sticking around long enough to tell you the things he told you a few minutes ago. Always using you as a quick fix for whatever was wrong with their lives. But he was different. He was special, and you wanted to make this special for him, in return.

Once you both stood bare-skinned in front of each other, his hands sneak around your waist, cold skin making you hiss.

“Your hands are cold.” you whisper against his lips, that curiously explore your face.

“Sorry.” he mumbles

“It’s okay.”

You push the both of you in the bed, until the back of his knees hits its edge, and he sits down with you standing in between his legs.

“Y/N, I …um…I-I…I-I d-don’t know how to…”

“Shhh,” you mumble against his lips “It’s okay, I’ll start and when or if you feel comfortable you can take over. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Returning to kiss his lips, you kneel down, breaking the kiss only when your skin hits the floor beneath you. You place one of your hands on his toned stomach, gently pushing it so that he gets the hint and lays down on the bed. Running your hands up his legs, you feel his every muscle harden under your palms.

“Try and relax. I’m not going anywhere.” Din leans his head back and moans softly as your hands work their way up and down his length. You can feel the way his body tenses up when your fingers wrap around his girth.

His fingers unconsciously find their way into your hair, gripping at it as you lick up and down the length of his cock. Every wet trail your tongue leaves pulling another pornographic moan from the man, each louder than the previous one.

You look up at him before opening your mouth and finally sinking onto him fully, earning a grunt of approval.

“How does that feel?” you ask one time, bringing your lips to the top of his head, before popping away.

“Bloody great...”

When you feel that he is starting to get close, you pull away and quickly step onto the bed to straddle him and he instinctively sits up, face close to yours.

Taking the tip of his cock, you line it up with your entrance eager to work on your own pleasure “Can I?”

Looking down at him, he nods and you slowly sink down onto him, moaning at the way he agonizingly stretches you.

“Maker,” Din moans as you settle on his cock, all of his length buried deep inside of you. “Move, please.” He practically begs you.

“Give me your hands” you instruct and he obeys, you guiding his hands so that they are gripping the soft flesh of your hips.

You start slowly moving your hips up and down, grinding against his pelvis every time you come down on him. At first he doesn’t move, just letting you get used to your own rhythm but as soon as he gets more eager, his own hips start thrusting up to meet yours, joining you in perfect synchrony.

The hands that previously rested on your hips part ways in different directions, one of them coming up to cradle the back of you head and the other slides to rest on your bottom. Instinctively, you throw your arms against his shoulder, one hand finding the back of his head as you both keep thrusting. There was no getting closer than this - him buried balls deep inside of you all the while hugging you against his body.

Groaning, he lifts his hips causing you to buckle your legs around his waist as he manages to flip you over, so that now he was the one on top. You refrain from a moan to come out of your mouth.

“Seems like you’re getting the hang of it.”

He only chuckles against the curve of your neck, before resuming the rhythm at which he was working before.

“Y/N...Fuck”

“Mando...”

“It’s Din.” he lets out between breaths.

“What?” you pant.

“The name. It’s Din.”

The knot in your stomach begins to tighten, and your walls squeezing around his cock. Your moans become more frequent as you feel your high growing. You grab one of Din’s hands and guide it down to where your bodies are connected.

“Feel this?” you pant and he hums in response “The hard bud, it’s the clit. Rub it in circles. It feels good.” You guide his fingers a few times circling your clit and once you feel like he has the hang of it, you let him do it on his own.

“Like this?” he pants, stroking it fast causing you to see stars.

“Exactly like that.”

You can feel your orgasm getting closer and by the way he is tensing, you can tell he is about to cum too, the only sounds in the room being those of your breathings and sloppy kisses, and your skin slapping together.

Your hips connect one last time before your back arches off the bed, pressing your nipples against his soft chest and Din’s body tenses, groaning in pleasure as his hot cum dashes your insides.

But he doesn’t stop rubbing your clit until you come down from your own high as he pulls out, rolling to your side, and you let out a soft whimper at the emptiness.

You’re sprawled out next to him and looking over at you, he chuckles adoringly and wipes a bead of sweat from the side of your forehead before placing a kiss to it. You manage a soft smile, eyes meeting his.

His eyes then trace the shape of your body, glazing over the red handprints your hips and waist.

You roll over onto your side, draping one hand over his chest as he wraps his arms around you gently, pulling you to him, and burying his face in your hair. You close your eyes and inhale his scent.

“I love you.” You smile a bit but don’t open your eyes only whispering the same words as he smiles against your forehead, leaning down to kiss it before resting his chin on the top of your head as he holds you against his body for the rest of the night.

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jessiebanethedragon · 3 years

Text

I Just Have to Get This Off My Chest

Din x Reader (SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 15)

is the title the title of the fic or is it the explanation as to way i wrote this instead of the three essay’s i have due soon. Who knows? certainly not me.

You had not felt well for some time. Every moment that was not distracted by something else allowed you to feel the pooling sickness in your stomach. Grogu was gone.

You had cried only in private, hidden away in the forest of Tython, covering your tears with your hands and sobbing into the ground. Din had never felt so powerless, when you finally re-emerged from the wooded area, he said nothing of the invasion of privacy he’d committed via the sensors on his helmet. Instead he walked up the ramp of Slave I with you to leave the cursed planet. Maybe, you were thankful for Mayfeld’s incessant chatter. It gave you something to focus on other than the missing warmth in your heart that was occupied by the little green creature.

“You still with us?” he asked, turning around and waving a hand over your face. It snaps you back to the moment, but the guilty feeling does not fade completely.

“Yeah,” You breathe. And finally relent, pulling off the helmet for fresh air. Din turns his head ever so slightly to catch the way your hair becomes messy. “Focus.” he reprimands Mayfeld, you almost feel bad for the guy, you're both so on edge he’s driving with ticking time bombs, and that’s without the Rhydonium.

“Where.” Din demands, roughly pressing his hands into the gaps between the baggy fitting armor. One of the pirates landed a solid blow to your side and the mandalorian wont let it go.

“Mando i’m fine.” You tell him, huffing when his hands get rougher trying to feel underneath the crappy empire issues durasteel.

“Where did you get hit.” He demands again, hands landing on your shoulders and shaking you slightly. Mayfeld is right, Din is desperate.

“Din…” You whisper side glancing to make sure prying ears are out of reach. “I’m okay, I promise.” You wonder for a second if you should put your forehead against his, something he’d done after the fight with Moff Gideon, after you thought you’d never see him again. You remember seeing him limp down with IG-11, barely alive in the darkness. You remember running to him without thinking twice, the stupid, stupid, mandalorian who would rather die than break his creed. The stupid mandalorian you know now you cannot live without.

“Hey, you two might want to stop acting like a couple of DUM - Pit Droids because we’ve got a problem.” Mayfeld says jogging over to you both.

“What.” Din snaps the unfamiliar hemet turning to the man at hand. You hate how it looks on him, it is strange, unfamiliar, so un-him that you’re longing for him to get the Beskar back on.

“I can’t go in there.” He says gesturing behind him. “That’s Valin Hess, I served under him, I'll be recognized.” You lean over to look at the officer, and then behind you into the open area.

“The officers' quarters are close enough.” You think aloud. “Stay here, I'll drop a detonator. Distract them.”

“No way you can make the trip without being caught.” Mayfeld argues.

“Hey, I used to do this professionally. Let me handle it.” You tell him with a small smile, this is herding Bantha’s compared to your old job.

“Kriffing spy’s” Mayfeld murmurs.

“As far as the empire is concerned I’m still an official agent.” You correct him, and you turn to leave but a gloved hand wraps around your wrist, his iron grapes holding you back. You look at the unfamiliar mask, and slowly, Din loosens his hold and watches you go.

The hallways are always the same, no matter how many planets, or ships you were stationed on, the empire always looked the same, your boots always made the same sounds, and an uncaught rebel-spy always knew where she was going. Order, Mayfelds voice echoes in your mind, yes there is order here. But Grogu isn’t. And that’s what matters to you right now, nothing else but the poor child that you’d had the fortune stumbling upon on a Navaro recon mission. You praise your own inability to let go of the past, for without it you never would’ve been investigating the imperial outpost, never would have met a cold mandalorian and never learnt that he, in fact, burned brighter than any kyber crystal in the galaxy.

The detonator rolls smoothly from your hand as you turn away from the barracks. Jogging back to the control center a soft smile on your face as the hiss and pop sends the familiar signals blaring. When the coast is clear you don’t stop running until you slide into the mess hall, and stop dead in your tracks.

Din is gone.

Mayfeld is standing over at least half a dozen bodies, save for one man who’s back is to you. Your blood freezes when you make the realization as the helmetless man turns towards you. He has brown hair, and you can see where the helmet has ruffled his curls. The slight scruff highlights his face, and draws you in towards his eyes. His wonderful brown eyes.

It’s the mandalorian. It’s your Mandalorian.

You know you should close your eyes, but they can’t move from his, so many nights on the razor crest were spent wondering about the colour of his eyes.

“You ever seen his face?” The memory of Mayfeld in a different place at a different time floods you. The way he teased about how close you and the mandalorian couldn’t be, because you didn’t know what he looked like. Pressing you against the bars of the prison they’d trapped him in, laughing when you couldn’t even give them a name. Taunting your own life in front of you at the end of a blaster. “She doesn’t know!” Xi’an sneered as you fought against Qin pinning you into the bars, using you as a tool in his revenge. It is as if you are meeting him for the first time again, the man in shiny beskar who had whispered his name to you after the incident involving Mayfeld himself. The mandalorian who ran his fingers over the marks the bars had indented into your skin. “Din. my name is Din.”

“I’ll go look… actually i’ll secure the roof.” Mayfeld stumbles through his words watching as you tear up at seeing, really seeing him for the first time. You choke on your word when he crosses the room stopping when he hears the small noise. Noticing how you finally seem to come back into yourself and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Cyare.” He says, sounding so different without the helmet on.

“Put it back on.” You rush out. “I didn’t see, we’ll kill Mayfeld, keep your creed.” you know it’s a lie, but you say the words in a jumble anyways.

“We were running out of time, this was my choice. Open your eyes, it’ll be okay.” Din reassures you. So you take a deep breath and listen to him.

“You’re so handsome.” You say without thinking, because he’s stunning up close, where you can see every detail in full. Standing mouth slightly agape as you memorize your mandalorian’s face. Your hand goes to touch him but you stop yourself, Din notices of course, and guides your hand to his face. You were right. He does burn brighter than any kyber crystal in the galaxy. Heated honey to your touch.

“I’m in love with you.” You’re learning many things about the man under the mask today, maybe it’s time he learns something about you. So you thread your hands into his hair and pour your love into a kiss. Din gasps, shocked, and part of you wonders if this is his first. But he reciprocates by moving his arms around your middle to bring you as close as possible to him.

When you part because of shots outside, he puts the helmet back on. And you immediately wish you had had a chance to kiss him again before he did.

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generallynerdy · 3 years

Text

Uncalled they come to me, and told, they still won’t leave me (Din Djarin/Soulmate!Reader)

Spoilers for Chapter 9 (S2E1) of the Mandalorian

Summary: After the ambitious Toro Calican turns on you, his hired mechanic, in hopes of winning favour with the Guild, the mysterious Mandalorian saves your life. Now that you owe him a life debt, he’s stuck with you until you can save him back. It’s not so bad, having a free mechanic and babysitter for the kid, but things take a turn for the worse when both of you realise you might be catching feelings. For someone that might not even be your Soulmate.

Requested by Anon: Hello! How’re you doing? May I please request a Din x reader soulmate au? The one where you don’t see color until you touch your soulmate? It would be very difficult for Din to find his soulmate and I’ve always wanted to see how it played out. If not that’s ok! Thank you and have a wonderful day ❤️

Key: (Y/N) - your name, (h/c) - hair colour, (e/c) - eye colour Translations: vode - siblings, Ret’urcye mhi - goodbye (literally: may we meet again), mirshmure’cya - brain-kiss (Basic term, is Keldabe kiss. This is the soft one as opposed to the literal headbutt term) Asked to be tagged in this disaster: @pearlll09 Word Count: remember when i said this would be 4k? Yeah. It’s 6,478 words. What. The. Fuck.

Author’s Note: this is way longer than I intended it to be but I think u deserve it since u were the only one who saw my post begging for mando requests and actually sent one hksjlfdkj tysm!! I’m so happy I got to write a Soulmate AU for him tbh. Btw, I have it in my head that Yodito would’ve given him the ability to see green, as a familial Soulmate bond, but it wouldn’t work for this if your eyes are green so I just left it out. (Also wtf is up with the Cobb/Din shit, Cobb is clearly in a dedicated relationship with the bartender Weequay. I named them Sala :D) The title is from The Teller of Tales by Gabriela Mistral.

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“Do you wear those gloves all the time?”

The Mando gives you a look—one that you can’t read, obviously, but you get the idea that it’s drier than the desert you’re in.

Calican snorts, but you shoot him a glare and he shuts up. You’re only here because he’s paying well for your mechanical skills, enough that his request of an extra hand on his first bounty seemed reasonable. Finding out that he’s hunting Fennec Shand was...less than pleasing, but now that the Mando is onboard, you’re not quite so worried about the outcome. They’re supposed to be fearsome warriors, after all. And he was smart enough to figure out how to wait out Shand, which is what the three of you have been doing for hours.

“I’m just saying,” you continue, “between the armour and the gloves, it must be damn near impossible to find your Soulmate.”

He shrugs. Sort of. It’s kind of hard to tell, to be honest.

“Haven’t you heard the stories?” Calican asks, flopping back onto the sand. “Mandalorians don’t have Soulmates. They start seeing colour after their first battle; war is their only destiny.”

You roll your eyes. They’re folk tales, really, and ridiculous ones at that. Every sentient has at least one Soulmate, romantic, platonic, familial, or otherwise, and there’s no reason for Mandalorians to be any different. Still, the stories make their rounds. There are specific ones, too, like the one about the Mandalorian Jedi who made the Darksaber; he was said to see colour when he lit his weapon for the first time. Fett, too, was said to have seen a new colour with every clone that was decanted—which is mildly ridiculous.

“Maybe the Mandalorians of old,” Mando comments with a scoff. “Not many of us see battle these days.”

“Well, if you’re looking for it, I know a krayt dragon a few hundred klicks away,” you suggest lightly.

He snorts. “No thanks. I’ll take the assassin.”

“Speaking of,” you said, “you guys know I’m just a mechanic, right?”

There’s a pause. Calican nods, but the Mando is still.

“What?” he asks, displeasure in his voice.

“I mean, I’m pretty good with a blaster, but I’m gonna be useless against Fennec Shand.”

Mando whirls on Calican. “You paid a mechanic to be your back-up? Are you insane?”

He shrugs. “(Y/N) has a mean right hook.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Mando huffs. He looks over at you and you can almost feel him glaring through the visor. “Are you crazy?”

“I’m broke,” you scoff. “Same thing. Oh, hey, do you need repairs on that hunk of junk you pilot? I’ll be more thorough than that lady at the hangar.”

He hesitates. “We’ll see.”

You grin. That’s not a no.

“You’re a prick, did I mention that?” you hiss over your shoulder.

Calican shoves the blaster into your side. “Shut up and keep walking.”

The Mandalorian stands on the other side of the hangar, waiting for Calican to make his move. Seriously, this day could not be going any worse. After killing Shand, Toro Calican, certified dumbass, decided that kidnapping you and the Mandalorian’s—pet? Child?—passenger was the best way to go. Whatever the little weird thing that’s in your arms is, it’s pretty cute, and you’d rather he shoot you than the baby holding tightly onto your shirt. In fact, he probably will, because the kid is his ticket into the Guild—you’re just dead weight.

“Looks like I’m calling the shots now. Huh, partner?” Calican asks the Mando. “Drop your blaster and raise ‘em.”

The Mandalorian puts his hands behind his head. Next to you, Calican pushes Peli forward and instructs her to cuff him. With a huff, she moves behind the Mandalorian with the intent to follow orders.

“You’re a Guild traitor, Mando,” Calican begins. You consider sighing. This sounds like the start of a villain monologue. “And I’m willing to bet that this here is the target you helped escape. Fennec was right. Bringing you in won’t just make me a member of the Guild, it’ll make me legendary.”

In a burst of light, the Mandalorian sets off a flash grenade.

You yelp and tuck the little thing into your arms before tucking yourself over into a roll down the ramp of the ship. You fall into the sand just in front of the Mandalorian, who’s moved to fire a shot at Calican, sending him flying off the other side, smouldering.

Breathing heavily, you sit up, the child still in your arms.

“Are you okay? Is the child?”

You look up. The Mandalorian has his gloved hand held out, offering to help you up. Hesitantly, you take it and pull yourself off the ground.

“We’re both okay—I think,” you say hesitantly, holding the baby out to him. “Is he—?”

“Dead,” the Mando confirms, taking the child from you.

You frown. “Good riddance. Thank you,” you tell him hesitantly, though your tone is genuine.

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs.

He distracts himself by checking on the child, who coos up at him contentedly. You smile a little at the interaction, but put yourself back into focus.

“It’s not nothing,” you say firmly. “I owe you a life debt.”

He freezes. “What?”

“Where I come from, if someone saves your life, you owe it to them. Until I can save your life, I owe you,” you explain.

“That’s—you don’t need to do that,” he says quickly.

You cross your arms. “It’s like your Way. It’s my culture, my honour on the line. You’re stuck with me, Mando.”

“What? No. Can’t you...pay me, or something?”

“I’m broke, remember?”

“You saved the child’s life, doesn’t that count?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “I rolled with him. You did the work, so, no, it doesn’t count, even though he’s your…” You hesitate, remembering the word. “...foundling.”

“You know, you’re kind of getting the better end of the deal here,” Peli pipes up, directing the thought at the Mandalorian. “A free mechanic, babysitter, and an extra blaster? That’s a bargain.”

“Uh...pre-warning, I don’t know much about child care,” you warn immediately.

He snorts. “Neither do I.” After a moment, he sighs deeply. “Fine. But we’re going to work on those blaster skills before you become a liability.”

“Fair enough.”

Sticking with the Mandalorian is probably the worst decision of your life.

Almost immediately after Tatooine, in need of more funds, he drags you into trouble with another group of bounty hunters and the New Republic, of all groups.

“Who is this?” someone asks, her voice sing-song as she enters the Mandalorian’s ship.

You don’t bother turning around, continuing your repairs on a hull panel. “The mechanic. Don’t touch anything.”

“You have a personal mechanic?”

A few people enter the ship, making you finally turn around. The first speaker is a Twi’lek woman and the second a Human, who squints disdainfully. From behind him, Mando pushes past their little crew—including a protocol droid and a massive Devaronian—to approach you, deciding to stand next to you rather than them, which brings you immense pleasure for some reason.

“No. (Y/N) owes me a life debt and, apparently, credits don’t cut it,” he explains shortly, sounding frustrated and exhausted.

You nudge him companionably—it’s an argument you’ve had a few times, the paying of your debt. He doesn’t want to be free of you, per se, but he doesn’t want you to be in his debt. Having that kind of power or hold over you makes him uncomfortable, you can tell, as every time it comes up he gets twitchy.

“Kinky,” the Twi’lek snickers.

You grimace. That would explain why Mando sounds like he wants to die. “Fun group. What’s the job?”

“One of theirs got caught. We’re getting him out,” he says. “And we’re using our ship.”

Our ship. Maybe it’s a slip of the tongue or maybe he’s making it clear that you’re with him, but either way, it brings a smirk to your face. The Twi’lek looks disgusted.

“Well, at least my hard work won’t be going to waste,” you huff.

“Mando,” the Twi’lek interrupts, “you haven’t introduced us.”

You can feel him rolling his eyes. “(Y/N), meet Mayfeld, Burg, Xi’an. Mayfeld is running point, the droid is flying, and the target is a New Republic transport ship.”

“Ugh. You guys better be good; I’m not getting arrested.”

“Mayfeld’s former Imperial,” Mando says before any of them can answer.

You scoff. “A stormtrooper? My shitty blaster skills would be better than his.”

“I wasn’t a stormtrooper,” Mayfeld spits, annoyed enough that he must’ve said it once already. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

All but the droid stay, scattered around the hull. Mando follows soon after the jump to hyperspace, having hovered over the droid while it set their course. He stops Burg from getting into the weapons cache right after he hops down the ladder and the two look like they want to kill each other.

“Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian,” the Devaronian grunts.

Mayfeld huffs. “Well, apparently, they’re the greatest warriors in the galaxy. So they say.”

“Then why are they all dead?”

They all laugh at that—Xi’an with a particularly nasal one, which is irritating beyond belief. You frown deeply, but try not to show how pissed their laughter makes you. That sort of shit isn’t to be made fun of; a dying race. It’s all too familiar these days, what with the death of Alderaan and the crater on Scarif.

When you come back into focus, Xi’an is talking in low tones.

“See, I know who you really are,” she says to the Mando.

You roll your eyes. Unlikely.

(Something in your brain goes: I do, which is stupid. You don’t know who he is, under that helmet, sure, but you’ve seen a lot of him through his actions. He’s reckless, terrifying, and a badass, but he’s also patient and...kind, in his own way. The way he treats the child is like nothing you’ve seen in another bounty hunter. It’s gentle, caring. The kid has really grown on him, you think. And the way he treats you is just straight up polite, even though you’re practically his servant in terms of a life debt. Still, he treats you like a person and doesn’t ask you to do unreasonable favours just because he saved your life. He doesn’t hold it over your head.)

And then they start goading him about the helmet.

Burg actually goes for it, which Mando beats him back for. You jump forward, but just as you do, the door to the sleeping cot flies open, revealing the child.

Instead, you rush to the child, pulling him into your arms.

“What is that?” Mayfeld asks, approaching.

“Back off,” you hiss.

He looks between you and Mando. “Wait, did you two make that?” When you scoff, he frowns. “What is it, like a pet or somethin’?”

“Yeah. Something like that,” Mando says quickly.

Xi’an frowns. “Didn’t take you for the type. Maybe that code of yours has made you soft.”

You snort. Soft. That isn’t a word you’d use to describe him, ever. You haven’t seen very much action since Tatooine, but you saw enough there.

Mayfeld reaches for the child and, without hesitation, you lift your blaster. The way he’s looking at the little guy makes you uneasy.

“Fuck off,” you warn instantly.

“Aw, c’mon, I just wanna hold him,” he teases.

Over the comms, the droid’s voice echoes. “Dropping out of hyperspace. Now.”

The entire ship shudders and shakes, sending everyone flying off their feet. You happen to ram into beskar, your face slamming into the metal, which makes you yelp. The baby wails in your arms as gravity makes to tug you away again. Before it can, Mando grabs your arms and holds you in place against him until the ship is steady once more.

“You okay?” he asks, helping you to your feet—again, you think miserably.

“Ugh, no,” you groan, putting a hand on the left side of your face. “That’s gonna bruise.”

Mando takes the child from you. “Sorry. We’ll deal with it after.”

You wave him off. “I’ve had worse. You worry about the job, I’ll watch the kid,” you say, taking the child back. You can’t help but smile when he coos happily.

“Right,” Mando mutters. For a moment, he watches you both, considering.

“Mando!” calls Mayfeld. “Let’s go!”

Before he goes, he puts a hand on your shoulder. “Be careful. I have a bad feeling about this.” You nod, which seems to appease him, and watch him leave.

Petting the child’s floppy ears, you wonder if he meant that to be as comforting as it was.

I should’ve known, Din thinks when Qin walks out of that cell.

I definitely should’ve known, he decides, returning to the Razor Crest to find a sparking droid corpse and a shaking child in your arms.

He tosses the cuffed Twi’lek to the side and rushes to yours, stepping over Zero’s limp form. You look relatively unfazed, for someone who’s just ripped a droid’s head off with their bare hands, but the child is rather distressed. The kid squeaks at the sight of Din and, much to his surprise, lifts your hand to show him.

It’s bleeding.

“What did you do?” Din questions, crossing the hull for his medical kit.

“I...may have tried to punch the droid,” you admit hesitantly. “It didn’t work.”

He scoffs, returning to kneel in front of you with bacta patches in his hands. “No karking shit.”

Your face falls as he reaches for your hand, pulling it toward him so he can patch it up. “It was gonna hurt the kid.”

“You did good,” he murmurs. “Stupid, but good.”

It never occurred to him that you might save the child again. You’re here out of necessity, after all, because you owe him, because your honour depends on paying that debt. The child is just another being in the vicinity, but you still saved him. Again. You’re either very stupid or very kind and he can’t decide which one is more concerning.

“Maybe you should teach me a bit of hand to hand, too,” you suggest warmly, wincing at the bacta’s sting.

Din makes a noise that’s sort of a laugh. “I’ll add it to the list.”

He moves to put bacta on the bruise his beskar gave you—He feels ridiculously guilty for that; here you are, paying off a life debt to him, and he still manages to hurt you—but with a hand, you stop him.

“Don’t waste it,” you say immediately. “I’ve had worse bruises, seriously.”

He frowns. “It’s not a waste.” Before you can protest, he puts the patch on top of the bruise.

You huff. “You’re a worrier, aren’t you, Mando?”

“Apparently,” he replies dryly. He hadn’t realised it, either.

“Will you stop flirting and get us out of here!?” Qin shouts from the other side of the hull. “The New Republic will be on our asses!”

You roll your eyes. “I hate to say it, but he has a point. Where are the others?”

“Dealt with,” he says simply. “It was a double-cross.”

“Well, I figured,” you shoot back with a knowing look. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The drop is easy enough, especially since Din knows that New Republic signal is beeping steadily from Qin’s pocket. He escapes quickly, dipping back into the Razor Crest, where you wait at the top of the ramp, the child hanging onto your boot.

“Let’s go,” he declares, the ramp shutting behind him as he enters.

“Already?” you question with a raised eyebrow. “There are a few repairs I could make out of hyperspace that might be useful.”

He waves you toward the cockpit. “Later. We need to leave.”

“Oookay.” You frown but do as he says, plucking the child from off your foot. “C’mon, little guy,” you mutter to him.

Din waves away all your questions as he starts the take-off. Finally, when the Razor Crest is a safe distance away from the space station and X-Wings appear out of hyperspace, he glances back at you.

“Holy shit!” you cry as they open fire. You look back at him with a slack jaw, which makes him smile underneath the helmet. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

He shrugs half-heartedly, but it’s enough of an answer.

“You’re a maniac, Mando,” you laugh, watching the scene through the transparisteel.

Din thinks over it, staring at you for a long moment. There’s light in your eyes—maybe it’s the reflection of the explosion, but it’s captivating.

“Din,” he says.

You look over. “Hm?”

He clears his throat, trying to shove aside nerves. “My name. It’s Din.”

“Oh. Oh,” you repeat, eyes wide. Then, you smile, more genuine than he’s ever seen from you, he thinks. “You’re crazy, Din. You know that, right?”

He laughs—and that’s the first time you’ve heard a proper one from him. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

When Din drops a pair of gloves in front of you, you laugh.

“You’re telling me the gloves are out of convenience?” you ask him disbelievingly.

“The more skin you cover, the less likely you are to get cut up by a vibroblade,” he replies dryly. “Put them on.”

You raise your hands in surrender and take them, slipping them over your fingers. “Surprisingly comfy.”

It occurs to you that this is...sort of a big deal. You’ve kept your hands bare for as long as you can remember, mostly because you’re a romantic and finding your Soulmate has been at the forefront of your mind for a long time. But now, you think, it’s not such a big deal. You have a debt to pay and, besides that, you’re pretty happy with how things are now.

Life isn’t exactly nice with Din and the kid, so to say, but you’re content. You love the child and he adores you. The Razor Crest feels more like home than any planet ever has. And Din is...well, he’s something. Being around him is mildly addicting and whenever he’s gone, something feels incomplete.

“Better?” you ask, lifting your gloved hands.

“Much,” he says. Then, he holds out his own hand. “C’mon, up.”

You take the hand without thought, but before you know it, he’s swinging you around and shoving you to the ground.

“Ow!” you cry. “What the hell, Din?”

He huffs. “Lesson 1: Never take anything for granted.”

“Rude.” You hit his arm meaningfully, but he just rolls his eyes; just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean you can’t tell it’s happening.

“You’ll thank me someday.”

“But not today.”

“Nope. Today, you’re gonna hate my guts.”

He’s dying.

It feels unreal, what with everything you’ve watched him survive so far. A newbie bounty hunter, a group of pissed off bounty hunters, lots of bounty hunters, and the New Republic but a group of stormtroopers is what gets him?

Moff Gideon is what really gets him, though. The bastard that helped destroy his people is going to destroy Din Djarin. Hearing him speak Din’s name makes you nauseous, furious, even. He gave you that name in confidence, trusted it to you, the only one of his handful of friends to even use it, and Gideon decides to declare it to Nevaroo in its entirety. It makes your blood boil, enough that you get out of the initial firefight mostly unscathed.

But Din doesn’t. And now he’s dying in your arms and you feel like you failed.

“Go with them,” he tells you, all croaky and half-assed.

“No. No, I’m not leaving you here,” you declare, carefully leaning him against the rubble.

Flames flicker all around the room and the child is crying. It’s not loud or consistent, but it’s enough to break your heart.

“You have to go,” Din says again. “You’ll die.”

You laugh ruefully. “That’s kind of the point. A life debt means I save your life or I die trying.”

A pause.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he hisses through the pain.

“Afraid not, dumbass. You’re stuck with me, remember?”

He grasps your arm, his hands still gloved. If you’re going to die here, maybe you should ask him to take off the gloves. A part of you has wondered…

“C’mon, tell me it’s transferable—some ‘dying wish’ shit like that.”

You nod, though the action sinks uncomfortably into your chest. Leaving him here...that doesn’t sit well with you. But if he asks, then you’ll do it. “Yeah, you name it, but it’d better be a big one, something equivalent.”

The breath he lets out is one of relief. “Take care of the kid. Go find his people and return him to them. Protect him.”

“With my dying breath,” you swear, the words holding an air of ceremony.

Din grasps your arm tighter and pulls you down, your forehead meeting his helmet. You’re not sure what it means, but it must mean something because he mutters words in his own language, which you’ve never heard him do before.

“Ret’urcye mhi.”

May we meet again.

Din does what little he can in saying goodbye to you, as deeply as that cuts. You’ve grown on him, a little too much maybe, and it kills him to think that you’ll be without him now. You still can’t hit a headshot, he realises, suddenly worried for how you’ll fare.

And so he gives you what he can: a Keldabe kiss and a goodbye, instead of the action he wants to take. He wants to take off his gloves and see if he can figure out the colour of your eyes. On the other hand, though, he doesn’t want to leave you with that, of all things, to leave you seeing the red of his blood and the blue-tinged orange of the flames before any other colours.

You take the child in your arms and, with one last glance at Din, leave the room for the covert’s tunnels underground.

The child whimpers up at you.

You look down, sniffling, and pet his ears gently. “I know, little one. I’m so sorry.” You place a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Cara appears, tugging on your wrist. “C’mon,” she says gently. “We need to get out of here.”

It occurs to you, as the three of you and Greef move on, that Cara might help you with the child. For Din, obviously. She’s a good person and, frankly, she and Din seem pretty friendly. The second she saw you, she’d offered her bare hand and bemoaned the fact that her vision was still black and white, much to your amusement. It was all in good fun, but Din had looked a little uncomfortable, for reasons you didn’t know.

“(Y/N),” Cara says quietly, calling your attention back.

You shake yourself from your thoughts. “Sorry.”

She smiles sadly. “It’s okay. Just keep up.”

The small group turns a few corners before footsteps sound from behind. You immediately place the child in the bag hanging from Cara’s shoulder and draw your blaster, watching her and Greef do the same.

From the distant hall, two figures approach: IG-11 and—

“Din!” you half-cry, half-breathe out. Holstering your blaster, you meet them halfway to take more of Din’s weight from IG. “How—?”

“No living thing can see me without my helmet. IG isn’t alive,” Din says dryly.

You laugh, a partly manic sound. “Thank kark. You’re not getting out of this that easy.”

The noise he makes is both amused and resigned. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Where’s the—?”

“He’s with Cara,” you say, finishing the thought before even he can, in his groggy state.

It’s safe to say that when the Armourer gives him his sigil, Din almost considers correcting the Clan of two to a Clan of three. He doesn’t, reminding himself that you’re here because of a debt and nothing else, but the thought is there.

The months after Nevarro are more peaceful than the first week of your time with Din.

You finally get to pull a proper sleeping space together for yourself. Well, it’s a hammock in the hull, but it’s better than the seats in the cockpit. The child gets his own hammock, too, though it’s in the cot space with Din. He loves it, so much so that he squeals when he sees it. That’s your proudest moment, for sure.

Most days, you tend to forget that you still owe a life debt. To be honest, it just feels like the three of you are normal. Din takes bounties, you take short mechanic jobs on different planets, and the two of you trade off on child-duty. It’s pretty regular, more than what your life used to be, anyway.

Din is still training you in hand-to-hand and blasters, of course. You’re getting better with the latter, but the first is difficult. On the way to Tatooine, where there’s supposedly another Mandalorian, he decides to have another training session.

“Fists higher, do it again.”

Huffing, you wipe your wrist across your sweaty forehead. It’s easy enough to obey the order—the first part, anyway. Getting into his guard is difficult, though.

One hit, two blocks—there. You slip under his guard and make an abrupt drop to the ground, sweeping his legs out under him with a fierce movement. He goes down in a tumble of beskar, joining you on the floor. As soon as he’s down, you flip over and straddle his hips, an arm over his neck in false threat.

He barks out a laugh. “Much better.”

“I’m not entirely hopeless!” you declare joyfully before bursting into snickers.

Leaning down, you thunk your forehead against his helmet. The gesture is fond, you’ve learned, something shared between close companions—or at least you think. Din told you that it’s called a mirshmure’cya in Mando’a, that it doesn’t have an equivalent word in Basic.

(Which is technically true. Literally, it means brain-kiss, but the outsider term for it is Keldabe kiss. It can be used for close companions—vode in arms, family—but it’s also used for romantic partners, so he’s mildly horrified at the idea of explaining its cultural significance to you and having to face his feelings for someone that may or may not be his Soulmate. He hasn’t gotten up the courage to ask if he can check. Or try to do it discreetly.)

A distant beeping starts up, coming from the cockpit. It’s the approach warning, which means the training session is over.

“I’ll get the kid,” you say, climbing off Din and offering a hand.

He takes it without hesitation, dragging himself up and making a beeline for the cockpit.

Tatooine is about what you remember. That is, it’s dry, sandy, and the worst planet you’ve ever been on. Stepping out of the ship and into the hangar makes you smile, though, at the not-so-distant memory of Din saving your life. It hasn’t been that long, but it feels like it’s been years.

“Oh, hey!” says Peli, after greeting the child—which is fair, he’s adorable. “You’re still with him! Haven’t repaid that debt yet, huh?”

Your face falls. “Uh, no, not really.”

On the way to Mos Pelgo, your thoughts linger on the life debt. One of these days, you’re going to save Din’s life—then where will you be? Will he want you to leave? What will you do if you have to leave? Your old life was nowhere near as interesting as this, nor did you have anyone close to what Din and the child are to you.

The dreary grey slopes of sand only make it easier to think of the worst possible outcomes. Now you remember why you hated Tatooine so much.

You don’t even realise the speeder is approaching the small town until Din taps your arm, which is wrapped around his waist. Jumping at the touch, you loosen your grip sheepishly and glance at the child, who looks like he’s enjoying himself immensely.

After the speeder comes to a stop, you take the kid while Din enters the cantina.

When you enter yourself, you find that he’s about to shoot someone, while the Weequay behind the bar looks rather distressed.

“Perfect timing, as always,” Din remarks without a glance.

You raise your free hand. “You’re the bad luck charm, I’m just here for the ride,” you retort teasingly.

“You brought a kid to a gunfight?” his opponent asks, raising an eyebrow.

Finally, you glance over at him and see why Din looks ready to kill him. He’s in Mandalorian armour but his helmet is off—clearly, he’s not Mandalorian. “You’re wearing beskar and you’re not a Mandalorian, buddy. I think you’re in more trouble than the kid is.”

“He is,” Din gets out, a twinge of viciousness in his voice.

Before they can even reach for their blasters, though, the ground starts to shake.

You grab onto the doorway for support, eyes wide as you grip the child. Din and the Mandalorian poser move toward the door, joining you and staring out at the street outside.

The entire planet feels like it rumbles and chaos reigns outside.

Something is moving the sand—coming toward the town.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper as it goes by, shifting the sand like it’s an ocean rather than earth. It flies out of the ground, sharp teeth the only thing you see as it consumes a bantha whole.

When it’s gone, the poser huffs. “Maybe we can work something out.” He turns to you, offering a hand, which is covered by fingerless gloves. “Cobb Vanth. I’m the Marshal here.”

You take it hesitantly, glad that things are still black and white when you make contact. “(Y/N).”

He notices your hesitation and chuckles. “The Weequay in there is Sala, my Soulmate. I’ll see if they can’t whip up something for the kid; I’m sure he’s starving.”

“Very,” you say, just before he goes to leave.

When it’s just you and Din, you look over at your companion. “Krayt dragon, huh?”

“Yep,” he sighs, already sounding tired.

You laugh. “I know I said I could bring you to one when we met, but I was totally kidding.”

He looks over at you and you can feel the low-level glare behind the visor, but it only makes you snicker. “I hate you.”

“You’re so full of shit,” you retort immediately.

You finally get to repay your debt.

It’s not what you’re thinking about when you shove Din out of the way of the krayt’s projectile venom, but it’s repaid nonetheless.

Din doesn’t think of it immediately, either, as he’s rather more concerned with the fact that you’re sent flying across the desert into a pile of debris and sharp rocks.

“(Y/N)!”

Before he can run to you, Cobb grabs his arm. “The dragon!”

To be honest, killing the dragon feels like a bonus when he pulls himself together and figures out a plan. When the great beast explodes, the Tuskens and the villagers cheer, but Din races back to the place he saw you last. He pushes aside the remains of one of those massive weapons they built to find you, laying on the ground. For a moment, panic clutches his heart, but then you groan.

“Am I dead?” you ask.

Din lets out a breath, hardly managing it, as he kneels next to you. “Dumbass.”

“Because it feels like I’m dead.”

“Dumbass,” he repeats, ripping your shirt away to find a deep cut in your side, just above your hip. “Of all the ways to pay your debt—”

You sit up, wincing. “Oh,” you say, as if you hadn’t realised it, “I guess I did that, too.”

Din’s heart is still beating a million klicks a second at how close you were to being dead, but for a second, it flips, realising that you hadn’t saved him just to pay the debt. And then, as he’s helping you off the ground and bringing you toward the others, who have bacta patches ready, his heart sinks.

Your debt is paid. You don’t have any reason to stay with him and the kid. As soon as you get back to the city, he’s going to have to watch you leave.

Shit. He didn’t think this through.

Meanwhile, you’re on the same train of thought. Does he really think you saved him for the debt? Does he want you gone that bad? It makes sense. You’re a pain in the ass, with all the training you need. But...well, you thought he might’ve—

“I’ve changed my mind,” you declare.

Din, terrified, attempts to sound neutral. “About?”

“The worst job we’ve ever taken. This is definitely it,” you huff as he helps you down onto a smoother boulder, taking patches from a Tusken.

He goes to use them, but you raise a hand.

“If you even think about getting near my wound with those nasty gloves, I’m going to skin you,” you threaten.

Frankly, Din is too shaken to even laugh. The silence lays there, stilted, as he removes his gloves and sits somewhat behind you, on another close stone. You’ve taken yours off, too, seeing as one is ripped all the way through.

He’s careful with the bacta patch and his bare hands, making sure not to touch your skin.

Now, of all moments, would be the worst time to find out that you really don’t have a reason to stay.

While he works, he thinks, briefly, that he should say something. “(Y/N),” he starts to say. “I—”

But that happens to be the moment he’s putting the bacta patch on. You suck in a sharp breath through your teeth, wincing. Your hand flies out, reaching for something to ground you. Of course, because something out there has it out for you, you grab his hand, forgetting that his gloves are, for once in his life, not there.

You realise, ridiculously, that his hand is warm.

And then the world around you explodes into colour.

The faded yellow of the surrounding desert is overwhelming with how it burns into your eyes alongside the brilliant blue of the sky. The surrounding Tuskens are in browns and greys, simple things, but so, so beautiful to your new sight. You breathe out, a shaky action.

Behind you, Din comes to see the same, but his gaze is stuck on the back of your head—the (h/c) of your hair and how the light catches in it, despite it being a complete mess.

You barely have the breath to gasp, but you do, whirling around to face him.

His beskar is beyond what you’d pictured: a shining, sparkling silver that could stand out on a star. No wonder rooms fall silent at the sight of him.

Din has the same thought about your eyes. On death’s door, all he’d wanted was to know what colour they are and now he knows, but it feels so useless now. He doesn’t even know what to call them. Sure, (e/c) would work, however weakly. You are...something else. You always have been, but now it’s like he can see it, the beauty of who you are so plainly painted into your features.

Din doesn’t even have the time to be afraid of your reaction before the words are slipping out. “I don’t want you to go.”

You just stare at him for a long moment, words processing.

It...kind of freaks him out.

He jumps when you fling yourself at him, arms wrapped around his shoulders in the tightest hug he’s ever gotten. Immediately, he responds, clutching the back of your shirt like it’ll save his life.

“Thank the Force,” you breathe out, just beside where his ear is under the helmet. “I don’t wanna leave.”

Din lets out a breath of relief and tugs you closer so you’re practically sitting on his lap. It can’t be comfortable, but you don’t seem to mind. When you do finally pull away, it’s to press your forehead against his helmet. It sends a swell of affection through him again, your constant Keldabe kisses. He taught you something important to his culture, to him, and here you are, using it without thought.

“Is it too late to tell you that this is the Mandalorian equivalent of a kiss?” he murmurs, more than a little embarrassed.

You laugh softly, arms reaching to rest around his neck. “And I thought you were so cool.”

“I just blew up a krayt dragon,” he argues.

“Oh, you’re plenty badass, Din,” you tease back, “just...not smooth.”

He huffs. “I’m gonna kick your ass next training session.”

A grin comes over your face and, for a second, he can’t comprehend why that would make you smile—until he realises that he just promised a next time. You’d genuinely believed he wanted you gone and Din thought you wanted to leave, but neither of you were right.

A whine from below catches both your attention.

The child reaches up from the ground, making grabby hands.

You laugh, a noise Din echoes quietly, and pluck him from the ground, holding him in your careful hands. “Hey, buddy. Feeling left out?”

He squeaks a confirmation, his little hands—green hands, you realise, deeply amused—reaching for Din’s helmet. Once he has a comfortable hand, he bashes his head against the helmet.

Din yelps, not out of pain, but concern, grabbing for the kid, who wobbles dizzily.

“Oh, shit—” Din says.

“Woah, woah,” you get out between wheezing laughs. “Don’t do that! His head is much harder than yours.”

The kid makes a weak huff and curls against Din’s chest stubbornly.

“I think that was an attempted kiss,” you suggest to Din.

Underneath his helmet, he grins. Petting the child’s head with a gentle finger, he looks back up at you. “It was cute.”

“Very,” you agree.

Without prompting, Din reaches for your hand again, a little hesitant. You take his gladly, running your thumb across his knuckles, which makes him shiver.

“Clan of three,” he whispers.

You lift your gaze. “Hm?”

“The Armourer, she said, ‘Clan of two’ when she gave me my sigil,” he explains. “I wanted to correct her then.”

The smile on your face is beyond words. “Clan of three has a ring to it. You’re stuck with me for good now, Din Djarin.”

He snorts and raises your hand to his helmet, touching it briefly to the metal in lieu of kissing it.

Tatooine might be the worst place in the universe, Din thinks that it doesn’t matter so much where he is. Sitting here, with you and the kid, he thinks that this might be home.

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

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scarlet-star-witch · 3 years

Note

I loveee the flashbackssss. Would you write about din and lella first time? ♾

I got you babe xx

I wrote this after a bottle of wine while listening to Lana Del Rey so I hope this is coherent. Enjoy this pure, shameless smut! xx

Pairing: Din x Iella (Female OC)

Word Count: 2513

Fade Into You Masterlist

Din watched as Iella got ready for bed for the night. Each movement, though trivial, seemed to set his nerves on fire, just because it was her.

His thoughts about her soon turned anxious as the hurdle they had yet to cross loomed over him greatly. They’d done everything else there was to do, expect for… that.

It wasn’t a big deal to most people, but to him, with his creed and his touch-starved past, it was a big deal. He wasn’t embarrassed about his lack of experience, Iella had never once judged him or thought less of him because of it.

But his greatest fear, the thought of not giving her the pleasure she deserved, was a prevalent thought, one that had kept him from taking the next step. But tonight… tonight he was ready for the next step.

He wanted to be close to her, he wanted to love her and he wanted to show her just how much he cared for her.

He’s been sheltered all his life, but with her he could be free.

He began to strip his armour off slowly, his eyes flitting over towards her frame every few seconds.

“Are you feeling ok after today?” He asked her, wanting to make sure she was physically ok after the excruciatingly long hunt they’d just finished.

“Yeah, walked away with only a few bumps and bruises. We’ve definitely seen worse. I think Xi’an got the worst end of the deal than anyone.”

Din rolled his eyes under his helmet at the reminder of the annoying Twi’lek. She was the last person he wanted to think of now.

Iella walked back into the room, brushing her long hair out, the movement of her violet waves capturing his attention so captivatingly.

“Din?”

“Huh?” He snapped out of his daze, suddenly realizing she was looking at him questioningly.

“I asked you if you were ok. You’ve been quiet all night.”

Din cleared his throat, reaching into his bag for something they had used before, but never for this.

“I.. uh… wanted to ask you something.” He started nervously.

Iella looked over at him, realization washing over her as she saw the blindfold in his hands. A soft smile grew as she felt heat flooding her cheeks at his insinuation. At the beginning of their relationship, he’d been so nervous, so scared to initiate anything.

She was relieved to see him finally take the leap.

“Oh… well, you know I would never say no to a little bit of fun.” She drawled, biting her lip playfully as she sat on the bed next to him, slowly crawling towards him.

She hoped she looked seductive and not like an idiot, like she worried.

“Well…” He cleared his throat nervously, her sultry gaze making his throat dry, making him almost unable to get any words out. “I wondered… if… maybe we could-”

“Din, are you ok?” Iella asked, interrupting his rambling.

“I want you. All of you.” He finally said straightforwardly.

Iella’s face smoothed in realization, a shy smile growing. “You have me. You always have.”

Din let out a loud breath, relieved by her answer, as if he worried she would refuse. Iella closed her eyes, motioning for him to place the blindfold over her eyes.

“Are you sure it’s ok like this? I can keep my helmet on if that would make you more comfortable?”

“No, no, it’s ok.” She assured him as darkness overtook her. “I want to feel your lips on me.”

He let out a shuddering breath at her words, squeezing his eyes shut to try and ground himself. He couldn’t lose control before it already began.

With shaking hands, he removed his helmet, his eyes taking in every inch of her before him, relieved to see her without the filter he usually saw her through.

Sensing his nervousness, Iella reached out blindly, letting out a slight laugh when she met nothing but air.

“Where are you?”

Din smiled adoringly and grabbed her hands, guiding her to his bare face. Her hands rested on his cheeks, making him close his eyes at the unbelievably incredible feeling. He let out a loud exhale, trying his best to ground himself from her dizzying touch.

“There you are.” She whispered, her hands tracing his features that remained a mystery to her.

She could practically feel his nervousness and hesitation.

“Din, it’s ok. I want you. I want this.” She assured him.

Without wasting anymore time, he crashed his lips to hers reverently, the moan she let out causing goosebumps to erupt over his entire body. Like always, he felt a wave of calm wash over him as he kissed her. He felt like the planets were realigning, like everything was suddenly right in the galaxy.

She always had that effect on him and he hoped it would never dissipate.

Iella gripped onto his hands, tearing the gloves off him, desperate to feel his touch, his real touch on her skin.

One hand cradled her cheek as his eagerly made its way down the length of her body. Without any question, she helped him lift her shirt up and he quickly pulled it over her head, allowing his eyes to hungrily roam over every inch of her exposed skin.

Her breathing increased, her heart beginning to race at his desperate touch. Their kiss became more heated, his tongue dominating hers so effortlessly as he gripped her hips tightly. Din pulled away, just for a second, to rid himself of his clothes as quickly as he could.

His lips were back on hers in an instant, dominating and vigorous, his desperation suddenly reaching a peak. He let out a gruff moan as he kissed her so bruisingly, his hands beginning to frantically tug at the remaining clothes at her waist.

Iella could feel his body trembling against hers, she could sense his anxiety, the cause of his frantic movements, and she pulled away, placing a hand on his heaving chest.

“Hey, it’s ok. I’m right here, you don’t have to rush.” She whispered to him.

She cursed herself slightly as he pulled away abruptly. He stared down at her, his wide eyes closing, his face twisting in anger at himself.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out, shame washing over him. Iella reached out, her hands sloppily finding his with her covered vision.

“It’s ok. Don’t be sorry.” She told him reverently. “If you’re not ready, we don’t have to-”

“No, no. I want to.” He assured her without hesitation. “I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted. I want to be close to you.”

Iella knew he meant more than just physically close. Being emotionally close to others was something Din struggled with and over their time together he’d become much more comfortable. She wanted to cross that final barrier with him.

She smiled softly, winding her arms over his shoulders, bringing him down to press against her body. “We’re ok. Just take it slow.”

He nodded, despite the fact that she couldn’t see him. Taking in a few long, deep breaths. He reached out again, his hands softly grazing her thighs, slowly making their way upwards to the sleeping shorts she was wearing, the ones that left little to the imagination, the ones that drove him absolutely crazy.

“Are you sure?” He asked her again. She nodded eagerly, her hips squirming, a silent plea to remove what separated them.

Din swallowed the lump that rose in his throat and slowly pulled off the rest of her remaining clothes.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered as he hovered over her, placing a soft kiss to her hip bone and slowly making his way up the length of her body. “So perfect.”

She let out soft moans with every kiss he planted on her skin, her want reaching new heights. “Din, please. I need you.” She begged breathlessly.

Din groaned softly, the sound of her voice, pleading for him was becoming too much to handle. He reached down, beginning to thumb at her clit, her wetness, her blatant need for him swelling a pride within him he never knew existed before he met her.

The loud moan that escaped her at his touch had his own soft groan leaving his parted lips as he watched her body writhe beneath him.

“Do you need me to-”

“No, no, I need you.” She panted, her hands trailing down the length of his chest before gently grasping his aching length.

Din tensed, his shoulders raising, his head dropping as his face creased with the effort it took to hold back. He quickly grabbed her wrist, stopping her movements on his cock. His heart was racing in his chest, but he found no anxious thoughts, no self deprecating worries.

He only thought of her.

“I love you.” He breathed out, placing frantic kisses along the curve of her neck before he reached her lips. She eagerly kissed him back, her arms holding tightly to his shoulders, her fingers finding their way into his hair.

“I love you.”

With shaking hands, he gripped his length and slowly guided himself inside her. He immediately stilled, his mouth falling open with a silent moan. He gripped the sheets below her, curling them in his fists.

“Din?” She called out, worried as to why he stopped so suddenly.

“I’m… I just… I need a second.” He panted, forcing his eyes that had screwed shut to open slowly. “Are you ok?” He asked, his voice tense and low.

Iella bit her lip at the sound, bliss already overtaking her body and she nodded eagerly. “I’m perfect.”

Din’s chest heaved and he began to move his hips slowly, thrusting in and out of her carefully, fearing that he would hurt her if he went any faster.

Iella moaned softly, her nails digging into his shoulders as he moved. He felt incredible, but she needed more. Her hips gyrated, looking for the friction she desired.

A choked groan escaped him, her name leaving his lips in a breathless pant as he inched even deeper inside her at her movements.

“Fuck! Stop, stop, please.” He begged, his hands anchoring themselves to her hips, forcing her to still before he lost all sense of control, which he was hanging on to by a thread.

“You ok?”

He nodded frantically, his gaze locked onto her fervently. He gently moved a strand of hair that was hanging in front of her face. He wished he could take that blindfold off, that he could see her eyes in the throes of passion.

He wished he didn’t need to hide himself from her.

Din kissed her fiercely, moving past his reservations, and began to thrust into her slowly again. A loud groan sounded from him, forcing his lips off hers as she moved her legs to wrap around his waist and he found himself unable but to move even faster, his hips meeting hers at a rapid, more frantic pace.

Iella’s head fell back, her lips parting with a cry of his name. She held onto him tighter as white lights swirled in her vision as he moved with vigour.

Breathless, desperate moans fell off his lips without any regard, her name choked out amongst what she could barely understand.

“Please, please.” He panted.

He didn’t know what he was begging for, all he knew was he felt weightless, a soaring feeling bubbling within him he had never felt before. It overwhelmed him, it soon became too much. He gripped onto her hair tightly, his forehead leaned against hers in the most erotic keldabe kiss they’d ever shared.

He needed something, anything, to anchor him to reality, but it was quickly becoming a failing effort.

He could no longer control the coil inside him that grew tighter and tighter, only seconds from snapping altogether.

He looked down at her, watching with hunger in his eyes as her back arched beneath him, her hands coasting down the length of his back, her nails casting a pleasurable ache that made his jaw clench as he tried his hardest to stifle the noises he seemed to have no control over.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…. oh, it’s… too much.” He panted breathlessly, slightly disbelieving what he was feeling.

Iella could feel tingles erupt over every inch of her body, down from her head to her toes that curled in ecstasy. Din’s movements were frantic and slightly sloppy from inexperience, but it was enough to make her head spin.

The grunts that escaped him sent shivers down her spine. The way the muscles in his back fluttered and tensed under her hands as he moved had her repressing a shiver. She wished she could see his face, she wished she could see what he looked like in pleasure.

The slack jaw, the wide eyes, the pure bliss the covered his expression would’ve been her undoing if she could have seen.

“Din… uh, yes, yes, please!” She breathed out blissfully.

His eyes closed, his face turned into a grimace as he felt himself beginning to slip over the edge. He quickly moved his hand, his fingers finding her clit as he began to rub in circles, desperate to get her over the edge with him.

The build up was slow, a feeling stirring in his stomach, before he was hurdled over the cliff so quickly, it left him unable to utter any words except a shout of pure relief as he reached ecstacy.

His body trembled, a shuddering gasp of her name escaping him as he made sure to keep the movements of hips in a desperate attempt to make sure she wasn’t left wanting.

Hearing his pleasure sent her over the edge.

Iella clung onto him tightly, her body arching, her forehead rested on his shoulder as she became rigid in her final moments.

Her mouth dropped open, a cry of his name echoing in the room as she reached her climax.

The fluttering of her walls around his twitching and spent length made him whine and he wrapped his arms around her, only holding her tighter when he felt her body shaking against his.

The only thing heard in the room was the echoing pants of the lovers wrapped in each other’s arms, refusing to let go of each other.

After a few minutes, as they both came down from their highs, Din raised his head, looking down at her blindfolded gaze. His hand twitched, his brain telling him to rip the thing from her eyes and look into the spacy gaze of her pleasure he was so desperate to see with his own eyes, not just from behind his visor.

He cradled her cheeks and leaned down, pressing a slow kiss to her lips which didn’t last as long as they would’ve hoped due to them both being out of breath still.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” He whispered.

The breathless Mando’a she whispered back sent shivers down his spine and he tightened his grip on her, suddenly feeling entirely overwhelmed by the love he felt for her.

*Hides face* Enjoy xx

#the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #pedro pascal x reader #din djarin smut #the mandalorian smut #Fade Into You #Din x Iella

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thewayofthemandalorian · 4 years

Text

invisible string - oneshot

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader Rating: T Warnings: Shared dreams, the tiniest bit of spice, yearning, loneliness, confusion, misinterpretation. Word count: 5,705 words Summary: After sharing life-like dreams with someone named Din Djarin, you are surprised to discover that he is your soulmate. At the same time, however, a mysterious Mandalorian bounty hunter crosses your path and captures your attention.

Taglist: @dindjarindiaries @goldafterglow @frannyzooey @absurdthirst @catfishingmorales @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @hopelikethesun @forever-rogue @f0rever15elf @thewaythisis @marvel-and-mischief @seasonschange-butpeopledont @lose-eels @ezrasarm @din-damn-djarin @opheliaelysia @pajamasecrets @mandohatesdroids @poenariuniverse @fioccodineveautunnale @fleetwoodmactshirts @auty-ren @profkenobi @storiesofthefandomlovers @ithinkwehitametaphor @yespolkadotkitty @cinewhore @wille-zarr @tangledlove27

masterlist (main) || masterlist (din djarin)

The dream came to you for the first time last night.

It would always be the same - or be very similar - as you would soon realize. It wasn’t much, but so vivid was it that you were sure that it was real until you awoke. Even then, you still thought that there was a fragment - however big or small - of reality. It didn’t even seem like a dream. More like a vision. All it was was a man, standing before you, with love in his eyes.

His name was Din Djarin. He hadn’t told you his name. Not yet. But you knew it all the same. A man tortured by past wrongdoings, haunted by the trauma of his past. It seemed that you were one of a select few that saw his face. How he kept his face hidden was a mystery to you. His hands, rough and coarse from his lifestyle - another mystery to you still - skimmed your bare arms with reverence and a softness few people knew he possessed.

As his nose nudged against yours as your lips met his, you knew that this is what home felt like. “Ner kar’ta,” the man said quietly against your lips, millimetres apart from his. My heart.

And then you woke.

* * *

Din Djarin didn’t dream much. When he did, it was regrets and memories of his past combined with things he worried about now. His time with Ran, Qin, and Xi’an. Almost dying for the kid, not once but twice. His parents sacrificing themselves for him. Not once had he ever dreamt of anything other than those.

Until last night. A dream so real it was life-like. She was beautiful. Sad, but full of hope. She looked at him like he had personally hung the moon for her. He was helmetless and armourless before her. That didn’t seem to matter. She was someone to him. Someone he loved. He had never seen this woman before. And yet he knew her like he knew his very being.

He leaned forward to kiss her suddenly. Her lips were soft against his. Responsive. Like they had done this a million times before. He knew her name. Knew that he loved her. Would love her for the rest of time. With her pressed against him, needing to have him close, the Mandalorian knew that this is what home was like. He spoke then. Low and husky against her lips. “Ner kar’ta.”

Before she could respond, the dream faded and she was gone and he was awake.

He looked to the pram where the kid still slept. It was early, Mando figured, but he’d be landing on Jakku soon enough.

* * *

If you were being completely honest with yourself, you absolutely hated living on Jakku. It was hot and miserable and nothing happened here in the two cycles you had lived here. Somehow, on a planet sprawling with people, you had never been so lonely. You hoped that your days at the Niima outpost were numbered.

As you cleaned the scrap metal that had been brought in today by the scavengers, your mind wandered to the dream that you’d had that morning. You’d had vivid dreams before, sure, but never ones that were quite so life like as this one. You weren’t sure whether to be unnerved by the realness of it. The dream wasn’t disturbing or threatening in anyway. No, if anything, it was peaceful. Reassuring, even. You didn’t know if your mystery man - Din Djarin, your memory supplied for you - even existed. You hoped that he did, and that he was happy, even in his inner anguish.

As you set down the freshly polished remnant from a TIE fighter, a man dressed head to toe in armour, complete with a helmet, stepped up to your work station, leaning up against the counter that divided you from him. A Mandalorian. You’d heard stories of their kind from your father many eons ago when you were just a little girl. Something that you couldn’t name itched inside you. A familiarity, perhaps? A familiarity to what? you asked yourself, this is the first Mandalorian you have ever come across.

“Excuse me,” said the Mandalorian through a modulated voice. There was something familiar about his voice, you realized. What though, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Sounded similar to the Stormtroopers that had run rampant on every known Rebel-sympathizing planet, you figured as you looked up at him.

Something told you that you should be intimidated, even afraid, by him. You didn’t listen. You weren’t intimidated by him. There was no rhyme nor reason to it, but you felt … at ease.

The Mandalorian cleared his throat through the modulator, breaking you from your reverie. Shaking your head slightly to clear your thoughts, you said, “Can I help you with something?”

Now it was his turn to gaze at you for a long moment. Everyone around you faded into nothingness as you met his blank stare. If it had been anyone else, you were sure that you would be unnerved. But for some reason, one that you could not identify, you were unbothered by it. Yes, you did feel as though he was staring into your very soul, but it didn’t feel threatening. If anything, he was curious by you, just as you were curious by him. Finally, he spoke. “I was hoping for some bounty work. There seems to be no cantina here, and I am running low on credits.”

You frowned sympathetically up at him. “Unfortunately, not a lot happens here that I’m made aware of. Your best option is to talk to Unkar Plutt over there. He knows everything that happens on this planet. Granted, I would also say that he’s involved with pretty much every seedy thing that happens here, but that’s what you get in Jakku.” The Mandalorian’s helmet tilted slightly at your words.

“Forgive me for assuming, but you don’t seem the type to be involved in seedy, backdoor deals,” the Mandalorian said drily.

“You’re not assuming. I’m not. I just live here until I can make enough credits myself to move on from this hell of a planet,” you replied. This intrigued the Mandalorian. He was about to ask you more, when your associate brought you more scrap metal to be cleaned. Your smile was thin, with an undercurrent of undeniable exhaustion. “I wish you luck. One of us has to make enough credits, and I don’t think it will be me.”

The Mandalorian pushed off from your counter. “Thank you for your help. I wish you luck in your own journey.

As he walked towards Unkar Plutt, you called after him. “Until our paths cross again.”

Where in the Maker’s name had that come from

* * *

The next time you dreamt of Din Djarin came when you had been living on Corellia for six months. You had finally left Jakku, not long after encountering that Mandalorian bounty hunter, and had found yourself on Corellia after stowing away on a freighter ship bound for the planet. It was still lonely, but it was not as hellish as Jakku had been.

In this dream, you were lying in the warm embrace of Din Djarin. His hold on you was gentle, soothing. A callused hand stroked your bare shoulder as you rested your head on his chest. You sighed dreamily. “I love you,” you said, your voice muffled against his warm chest. A simple silver ring rested on your finger, identifying you as his wife. You smiled up at him, getting lost in his warm brown eyes, looking at you with an intensity that never failed to take your breath away. His soft smile was the last thing you saw before you woke.

You sighed in frustration. The galaxy had decided to play tricks on you, it seemed. You still didn’t know anyone named Din Djarin. Part of you had hoped that you would meet him in your relocation, but so far, no luck. If these dreams were to be taken with any value, this Din Djarin - if he existed - was meant to be your husband. Soulmate, perhaps? you thought idly. Never one to take dreams with any meaning, you couldn’t help but put some stock into these ones that you’ve been having. Much like the previous one, it felt too real to be taken for granted.

How lonely were you?

You glanced at the chronometer on your night table. Kriff, you hadn’t even slept for four hours. There was no way you were going to be able to fall back to sleep after that.

* * *

The Mandalorian had known it was her the second he’d laid eyes upon her in Jakku. It had to be her. She looked and sounded too similar to the woman in his … dream to not be her.

She seemed, at least in some capacity, to recognize him without realizing it. Most people, when they saw him, gave him looks of fear - or at the very least, apprehension. She hadn’t even so much as blinked in fear at him. He didn’t know what to make of the situation. Although his helmet and his armour had prevented her from seeing who he was really was, she had still managed to worm her way right into his very soul upon that first meeting. Granted, she had already managed to do that in the dream, and that was before he had met her.

He understood, now, why her eyes had such a sadness. That was no way for anyone to live. He had wanted to ask her to join him on the Razor Crest as she had pointed him in the direction of Unkar Plutt, who had given him a bounty - a man that owed him money and parts. It was a meagre bounty, but the credits were able to buy him and the kid some much needed food.

After that day, she had haunted his dreams that night, though in a different capacity. Not as vivid or life-like. When he woke the following morning, he decided to place her out of his mind. It was likely just a coincidence, he tried telling himself. Nothing more than déjà vu.

He almost believed it, too. Almost. Until this morning. When he realized she was his soulmate.

In the dream, she was resting her head against his bare chest. His arm was wrapped around her shoulder. His other hand was twined with hers. She wore his mother’s wedding ring on her finger, he noted. The gaze he gave her as she whispered her love for him was nothing short of reverential. Her eyes had no trace of the sadness that had permeated her very being both in the previous dream and when he had met her.

When he woke, he had no time to ponder the dream. The child was awake and hungry, and Din needed to drop out of hyperspace to land on Corellia. His most recent bounty had led him here.

As he slipped into the pilot’s seat, Mando pressed a button on the console. After a second of static, a familiar sounding voice crackled through the radio. “This is Coronet Tower. We are tracking you. Head for bay two-six. Over.” It was her.

“Copy that. Two-six, over.” Din managed to keep his voice steady as he spoke. He spared a glance to the kid, who was sitting in his pram, sleeping.

Din had never believed in soulmates. He thought them a fairy story similar to that of the Jedi. The Jedi ended up being real, he reminded himself. Din thought he would be one of the many people (most people didn’t have a soulmate) that didn’t have a soulmate. But no other explanation made as much sense as that one. As he landed the Crest in the hangar, he wondered if she had realized it yet. He wouldn’t push her if she hadn’t - he would let her come to him.

* * *

You were surprised to see the Mandalorian again as he stepped down off the ramp of his ship. After his stop on Jakku, you had assumed that would be the first and last time your paths would cross.

“We meet again. That is, if you’re the same Mandalorian I saw on Jakku seven months ago?” you said, keeping your voice light.

“Glad to see you got off that hell-hole of a planet,” was the Mandalorian’s stoic response. How he longed to tell you. His gaze stayed on yours for a moment. You didn’t break it, as you took in the bounty hunter. His armour was dinged in places it hadn’t been before, and you noticed the signet of what looked to be a mudhorn on his left shoulder pauldron this time around. You found that like last time, you weren’t timid around this man, although the others in the hangar appeared to be on their guard, eyeing him with caution.

A wrench fell from someone’s toolbox, breaking the moment. Clearing your throat, you turned your gaze to the Mandalorian’s ship. “Your ship’s in rough shape,” you said giving it a once-over.

“It’s seen worse, but the engine’s shot. Again,” explained the Mandalorian. Just then, a small creature made his way down the ramp, confused and lost. It was a child. The Mandalorian crouched down in front of it. “You’re up, adi’ka. Did you have a good rest?” he asked, his voice gentle. You stifled a smile. The two were clearly connected one way or another.

He turned back to you. You quickly made yourself look back up at the ship. “My apologies, mesh’la. I thought my foundling would sleep longer, and I can’t exactly take him with me on my bounty. It’s not safe for him… people are looking for him,” the Mandalorian explained. You didn’t know what mesh’la meant.

“It’s fine, Mandalorian. I don’t mind keeping an eye on this little one while you … do what it is you need to do,” you said, looking down at the small green creature, who cooed up at you with a little smile on his face. The Mandalorian stiffened for a split second. “I don’t think I introduced myself the last time we met,” you said. You gave him your name.

I know, Din thought to himself as he took your outstretched hand in his gloved one. A small spark of energy ran up both your arms as your hands touched. You flinched for a second, but didn’t drop his hand, giving it a firm shake.

“It must be the static electricity,” the Mandalorian supplied, still not letting go of your hand.

“What do I call you? Is there something you want me to call you?” you asked, extracting your hand from his. Part of you was all right to keep his hand in yours for the rest of the day.

“Di - Mando is fine,” he replied, hoping that he covered himself quickly enough so that you wouldn’t notice.

“Well, Mando. I will watch your little one and Rogan over here will get started on your ship’s engine,” you smiled up at the Mandalorian as you stooped to pick up the child.

* * *

As you cared for the child in the office (you didn’t know if he wanted you on his ship), your mind wandered to the child’s caretaker.

Who was he? Like before, he seemed so familiar. Like you had met him before in a half-forgotten dream. Was it déjà vu? It was more than knowing him for that brief moment on Jakku. Even that was bizarre, there was no denying.

Mando seemed to know who you were. The way he looked at you for long moments, or the way he held your hand in his as you shook it upon introducing yourself. Why had he stiffened when you called him Mandalorian? You didn’t understand what was going on.

Even though you didn’t understand what was going on, the Mandalorian felt like a kindred spirit in some way. You couldn’t explain it in any other way. You had only met one other time, but it felt like he knew you like no one else did. You knew you were lonely. Loneliness was your oldest friend. It had been ever since the Moff Tarkin had ordered the execution of your parents twelve years ago, leaving you by yourself. Nowhere had felt like home since you were orphaned. Mando seemed to see that in your eyes. Your loneliness and your pain. You were sure that if you could see into his eyes, you would see the same ghostly, haunted look that your eyes had.

As the kid began to grow sleepy again, your mind strayed to the dream you had this morning. While it was not the first type of dream that you’d had, it certainly was the most memorable. You still didn’t know if Din Djarin was a real person; you wanted to search for him. See if he was having the same dreams that you were having. Or if this was just something your subconscious had cooked up to mess with your mind. You didn’t know what to think. You just wanted to find this Din Djarin, if he was even real.

He was your soulmate, you realized suddenly.

You had been familiar with the notion of soulmates since you were young. The concept was nothing new. It was said that soulmates could share dreams with each other. Not necessarily visions, rather suggestions, of what their lives could be like together. Until this moment, you’d always assumed that you didn’t have one. Not everyone had a soulmate.

You didn’t know what to do with this information. You would have to let the Mandalorian down gently, he seemed to have an interest in you. An interest that you reciprocated.

* * *

The Mandalorian returned later that afternoon, his bounty cuffed. You were about to come out of the office when his gaze met yours. Even though the helmet had no facial features, you could tell what he wanted to say. Stay there. You nodded discreetly as he shoved the bounty up the ramp. Five minutes later, he stalked down the ramp again. Part of you wondered if that was a Mando thing or if the boots he wore made him walk like that.

You met him at the end of the ramp, the still sleeping child nestled in your arms. “Was he okay for you?” asked Mando, his expressionless gaze turning to look at the sleeping bundle. You nodded.

“He’s very sweet.” It was true. The child had been an absolute delight. He had warmed up to you right away. Like his caretaker, he seemed to know you on an inherent level. You eased the sleeping child into Mando’s arms. He had the child’s pram at the ready next to him. Easing him into the pram with gentle ease, Mando turned to look at you.

“Thank you for taking care of him today. Is my ship …?” he trailed off.

“Rogan fixed it up just fine. You should really look into getting a new engine altogether if you can, but that should hold you until it’s absolutely necessary. Don’t be getting into any fights with it,” you said, taking a look at the notes Rogan had scribbled for you before he left for the night. When you told him the cost, he did a double take.

“It was twice that two cycles ago on Tattooine,” he said. You shrugged. Corellia was known for its mechanics. Shops like this one were a dime a dozen.

“Thank you,” Mando repeated, pulling some credits from the pouch on his belt and slipping them into your hand. It was more than triple what you had quoted. You frowned. “Consider it a tip for minding the kid for me today,” said Mando, noticing your look of protestation. Your skin flushed warm, a flustered smile making its way to your lips.

“I shouldn’t accept, but I have to make my way off this rust bucket of a planet somehow,” you said. “Thank you.”

Mando simply nodded. “Until our paths cross again,” he said as he started to make his way back up the ramp. At the door, he hesitated for a moment. It looked like he was about to turn around to say something else to you. Then, at the last moment, he carried on, the ramp closing behind him.

* * *

“Who are you?” you whispered, tears in your eyes as you looked up at Din Djarin. Your third time dreaming about him, and you were able to control the dream somewhat.

“You know who I am,” said Din, his lips grazing your jaw.

“Do I?” you asked. “I don’t think I do. Not in my waking life, anyway.”

“You do, cyare. I promise that you do.” Din pulled you closer to him, kissing the spot just beneath your ear that he knew you loved. You moaned softly as your hand twined in his fluffy soft hair. The other just below his rib.

“Din. When will I find out?” you asked vaguely as his lips roamed your cheek and jaw and neck.

“Soon. The next time you meet me, you will know who I am before the end. I promise you this,” he said.

Suddenly the hand at his rib was wet. You pulled it back, it was covered with blood. His blood.

You woke screaming, tears streaming down your face, your hand stained red. A tiny spill from the vision. Your heart was beating frantically in your chest as you let out a sobbing scream. Your soulmate was hurt.

Usually, it was difficult for you to go back to sleep after one of those visions. This time, you knew it would be futile to even try. Even if you did manage to get back to sleep, you knew you had to get up in an hour for work.

It had been five months since your last vision. In that time, you had left Corellia, and were now on Coruscant.

And you had thought Jakku was lonely.

You had found employment at an inn. Although Din Djarin was on your mind, so was the Mandalorian. You hoped he was doing well.

* * *

Din woke from the most recent of his visions just as the Crest was dropping out of hypserspace to land on Coruscant.

In the dream, he could feel her loneliness, her confusion, as though it was his own. It brought tears to his own eyes, which he still felt as he woke up. He promised that when he found her next you would find out it was him.

He also felt the knife wound just below his ribs. Din hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He knew that he should have stayed awake. The piece of ripped tunic he had wound around the knife wound was drenched. If he had the kid with him, he may have asked him for some help, but he was with Cara at the moment, laying low, while he went to collect a bounty. Most populous planets were dangerous enough for the kid, Coruscant would be like handwrapping the kid and delivering him to Moff Gideon himself. He needed to be patched up, but the closest medcentre was miles away. He scanned a screen on the console. There was an inn not too far away. He would go there. Someone there would know what to do.

As he landed in the hangar and forced himself to walk, Din thought of you. The loneliness was back. He wasn’t sure it had ever left. You had looked lonely as ever on Corellia. He longed to tell her of his own loneliness, his own pain. Din knew, even though she did not know him like he knew her, that she would understand. She wouldn’t judge him if he were to tell her of the things he’s done and experienced. What he did to survive.

Halfway there, his vision started to fade in and out. Not too far away, he could see a woman, walking in the same direction as him, likely on her way to the inn as well. He called out to her, maybe she could help. As she turned and walked towards him, he saw who it was.

Of course. It was her.

“Hello, cyare,” he said gruffly, collapsing onto the paved ground, her look of shock the last thing he saw before fainting.

* * *

“Mando! Mando! Can you hear me?” you said loudly as the Mandalorian groaned.

“Sorry, sweet girl,” he said, “I need your help.”

Relief surged through you. “I can see that,” you said, electing to ignore how he called you sweet girl for now. “What happened?”

“Got stabbed. I need your help patching it up,” he said. You paused for a moment.

“I’m sorry, you want me to what?” Disbelief coloured your voice as you attempted to help him up.

“If you don’t mind,” Mando added, almost sheepishly.

“Of course I can help you. But I need to do it somewhere … more private.”

As you helped him to his ship, your insides twist with the knowledge that you’ll have to tell him that you have a soulmate and can’t keep up this … whatever it is with him. You hate to let him down, but it’s better than letting him live in false hope.

It was dark in the ship, all the lights turned off. Mando switched the headlight at the top of his helmet on for you to see.

“I need you to take your chest plate off,” you said as you eased him onto the floor of the ship. As Mando obeyed your request, your eyes landed on a medkit.

“There should be … kriff … ahh … a cauterizer in there,” Mando struggled to say, trying not to irritate the knife wound further.

You shot the Mandalorian a wary look as you picked up the instrument. It was above your knowledge, but if he wanted you to use the cauterizer, you would use the cauterizer.

“Will it hurt?” you asked, switching it on.

“Profoundly. But it’s easier than a needle and thread. As soon as you’re done with the cauterizer, use the bacta wipes that’s in there, too. To … oh, kriff … to prevent infection.” His voice sounded strained through the modulator.

“Is it … I need to cut open your tunic,” you said. Mando just nodded.

The tunic cut, you started. Whatever you were doing seemed to be working. A faint glow and a sparking sound emitted from the small instrument, drowning out Mando’s grunts of pain slightly. It wasn’t a long wound, but it was deep. You hoped this worked. The light from the headlamp and the cauterizer the only things helping you see.

“Almost done, Mando. Almost done,” you said as a hand reached out to grab your leg. You let him squeeze through the pain as hard as he needed to. A sheen of sweat formed on your forehead as you reached the end of the knife wound. Dropping the cauterizer as though it had bitten you, you unwrapped the bacta wipes and rubbed the antibiotic across the red welted patch of skin. He hissed at the contact. “Done,” you said, tossing the two dried bacta wipes aside. You could deal with those later.

Mando exhaled. “Thank you, cyare. I mean it. Thank you.” He squeezed your leg in appreciation.

“You’re welcome. Just don’t … don’t die on me, all right? You’re important to me.” The words slipped out unbidden.

“You’re important to me, too, cyare,” Mando said before you had a chance to retract your words.

“Mando … there’s something I need to ask you.” It was now or never.

“What is it, cyare?” said Mando.

“Do you … This is going to sound ridiculous … do you believe in soulmates? I’ve been having …”

“Dreams? Life-like dreams?” Mando interrupted. Your brow furrowed in puzzlement. He couldn’t be … could he?

The headlamp switched off suddenly. A hissing sound filled the air before something made a clunking sound on the ground.

“Exactly. And, well … I never thought that I had one, but then I started having dreams. More like visions, really. And … well, I think I have one. But I don’t know who it is. Someone named Din Djarin.”

“Ner kar’ta,” Mando said. You blinked. His voice was unmodulated, his breath tickling your face.

You knew that voice, you thought. Before you could ask another question, his lips had pressed against yours. You gasped against his lips as he kissed you. You kissed him back, his lips achingly familiar and reverent against yours.

Breaking the kiss, you leaned your forehead against his as he kissed the skin above your lips.

“Who are you?” you whispered against his lips, just loud enough that he could hear you. “What’s your name?”

You knew the answer before he spoke. “Din Djarin.”

* * *

Laying in bed, you stroked the child’s forehead gently as he slept next to you. You would bring him to his pram later, just as soon as his father came back. For right now, you were comfortable. Breakfast was made. It could be re-heated.

It had been a cycle and a half since you had found out that your soulmate had been right under your nose this entire time. You had married him three weeks later. Both of you didn’t want to wait too long; you had waited this long. You knew you loved each other. That you were soulmates. An invisible string tied you to him forever.

The ramp of the ship descended. A minute later, you could hear Din in the room where he kept his quarries. The tell-tale hissing sound of the carbonite told you that he would be along soon.

“You’re home,” you said by way of greeting as your husband stepped into the sleeping compartment. The child stirred from sleep for a moment, just long enough to see his buir returned safely. He smiled sleepily up at Din as he carried the baby to his pram. Stroking his large ear gently, Din eased him into the pram. The child’s eyes were shut again before the pram lid doors shut.

“Hi, sweet girl,” Din said, kissing you on the lips.

“Hi. Missed you,” you said as Din eased you up, wrapping his arm around you. The two of you stood there for a moment. You stroked his side, your wedding ring catching your eye. It was the same one as the one in your shared dreams. Din’s mother’s.

“You’ve got that look in your eye, riduur,” said Din, a knowing look crossing his face as you led him to the kitchen. “What’s on your mind?”

“Just thinking about how the galaxy brought us together. Do you think the Maker was banging his head against the wall at us?” You knew that Din had known before you had.

“I don’t know, cyare. But I’m glad that the galaxy brought us together,” said Din, turning you to face him. He brought your hand to his lips.

As you sit and share breakfast with him, telling stories of what you and the child did in his two-day absence, realization washes over you. It’s not the first time you’ve realized this, nor will it be the last. The realization of happiness. Of peace. The loneliness the two of you felt for many cycles a thing of distant memory. You smile at Din as he takes a bite of food, a knowing look in both of your eyes.

It was such a pretty thing, you thought, that the galaxy had decided to tie the two of you together like this.

#din djarin x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x you #mando x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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rostovs-lover · 3 years

Text

dual purpose

din djarin x reader | cursing, some derogatory things said to reader, xi’an is Not Nice - mando is Not Nice back, very dialouge heavy | she/her pronouns | fluffy? a little angsty?? | wc.1144

so i kind of wrote xi’an as more verbally rude to reader as opposed to physically, i am also not good at arguing so that scene is iffy, very sorry. i hope you enjoy!

anon : Hey I love your writing 💕im in love with the Mandolorn (sorry if I spelt it wrong). I thought of a great idea, where Mado has a girl on the ship she’s traveling with him and they have grown to become good firends, and he becomes quite protective of her because she is weaker than him. In chapter 6 the prisoner, Xi’an is Mandos ex, she sees the girl he is traveling with and gets jealous and starts to become threatening towards her and violent, ans Mado becomes protective of her 💕

Xi’an, whos still not over Din, takes her passive aggressive aggression out on you, Mando is not having it.

Din Djarin was terrifying, all heavy metal and loud boots. He was the sun, blazing hot and blinding, all tucked behind thick beskar. Something about you, your cool demeanour and the way you seemed to float on your feet, a stark contrast to how heavily he clunked around. He was terrifying but you had seen through it. He was terrifying but his friends were worse. Not friends, per se, he’d made that evident. Ran and Mayfield and Xi’an were not his friends, hardly even acquaintances, ex-colleagues.

When he’d landed the Razor Crest in the doc, clearly put off, Din took a moment to collect himself, “You don’t have to talk to them.” He turned his head to look at you, “They’re not… your crowd really,”

You snorted, “That's beautiful coming from you, my dear. You know, you’re not particularly ‘my crowd’ either?”

“I’m serious-” The cool leather of his glove pressed to your cheek, “Look at me [Name]. They’re intense, they’re bounty hunters, mercenaries. They kill, ruthlessly, for money, and I don’t want you getting in their way.”

You stared, eyebrows furrowing, “Get in their way?”

“Not-” He sighed, “Not like that. You’re not in the way. I just don’t want them to do anything… to say anything. They’re not nice people, not at all. And you should know about Xi’an.” He had an edge to his voice, something bitter biting into her name. Xi’an. You could taste the bad memories through his tone.

“Whos Xi’an?”

“Xi’an is someone who I used to know. We had a relationship? If you could even call it that. It wasn’t really anything important, we were both young and stupid and always running on adrenalin. Things happened, things that probably shouldn’t have, and when I left things were very… open. There wasn’t closure for her, for either of us, and from what I know of Xi’an she probably isn’t really over it.” He moved his hand to brush a tendril of hair behind your ear, “I don’t know how she’d feel about someone else, I really don’t even know how she’ll feel about the kid. I just don’t want her to ruin anything, or to hurt you.”

You reached back, to clutch at his hand, “Din.”

He seemed vulnerable, more so than any other time you’d seen him in broad daylight. The dam was leaking and sweet weakness was dribbling from the cracks, pouring into your hands like ambrosia from the Heavens. He dipped forwards, pressing the crown of his helmet to your brow bone, “I know, I worry.”

“Yes you do, too much. I’m alright Din, we’ll be alright.”

“I know, I know you will but I still just can’t imagine losing you. I don’t know what I’d do. I think-” He let out a soft noise, somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle, “I think I’ve actually had nightmares about that. About something happening to you and the Thing. I know you can hold your own and take care of yourself but I just feel this compulsion to keep you and the kid safe.”

“It's a paternal instinct Din, to protect your family.”

“Paternal.” Din jeered, “What have you turned me into?”

You tapped a finger to the side of his helmet, “I’ve made you soft,”

Xi’an shared the same sentiment, that Din had gone soft. And she blamed you entirely, she had voiced that. When she’d first met you she circled like a vulture, walking around you as she fiddled with her utility belt.

“You’re cute, so is that-” She reached out to pinch at his little green cheek, “Is he yours?” Her tone was condescending, filled with mock pity.

The Child leaned away from her, ears twitching downwards as he pressed closer to your chest, “No, he's not. I just help Mando take care of him,”

“He's Mando’s?”

“No, no- not really. Kind of, but it's a long story.”

Xi’an cocked an eyebrow, “Kind of? What even is it, I’ve never seen anything like it. Mando didn’t… you know, with its mom I hope. I mean, now I guess it couldn’t really be put past him.”

You shook your head, clutching tighter to the Child, “No, the baby was found, Mando took him in after-”

“Are you two..?” a grin crawled up Xi’an’s, “I bet you are. Oh I don’t blame him, you are pretty and all that time in the middle of nowhere would make anyone desperate, even prudey Mando and his creed. You know, I never took him for the companion type but I mean, you are something to look at, and good with kids. How nice it would be to have you on the ship, dual purpose.”

“Xi’an-” Din’s tone was curt, “I see you two have met.”

“We have! She’s a cutie, I think I’m starting to see a pattern with your picker. Plus with that kid, she seems to be good for a lot,”

The Mandalorian’s shoulders tense and his fingers clenched, “You know, you never were good at reading people. Good for a lot, what is that even supposed to mean?”

She snorted and crossed her arms, “Just you must be desperate is all, but you could have come back instead of picking up a space hooker. But you’ve domesticated her well!”

“Really Xi’an?” Din leaned closer to her, “Are you jealous that I wanted more or have you always been this much of a bitch?”

“Can you still fight or have you gone soft Mando? Did a girl make you soft, or was it your kid?”

“I’m sorry you weren’t the one who got to have this life Xi’an, but I really don’t think you’re adept for it,”

That was what caught her, making her flustered. Din had nipped the weak spot she had, desperation for family. Xi’an regained herself and straightened, “At least I still have the balls to do my job.” She turned on her heels and stormed towards Burg.

Din sighed and reached out to pull the Child from your arms, “I’m so sorry about her,”

You shook your head, “Its fine, you warned me, I didn’t take any of it to heart,”

Despite the dark visor covering his eyes, you could feel the sympathy, “It still wasn’t okay, any of what she said. You’re not dual purpose. You're wonderful and perfect and the fact that you’re so good with the kid is just an up.”

Your face flushed, “Thank you Mando, that means a lot.

“I’m not just saying it [Name]. When you asked to come aboard full time it was such a relief, with how much the Thing likes you.”

You smiled, reaching out to fix the collar of the baby’s robe, “Well I like him too, he happens to be my favourite little monster in the whole galaxy.” You looked up to your companion, “Don’t worry, you’re my second favourite.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #baby yoda #grogu #mando #lennie writes

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lilyofthesword-writes · 3 years

Text

The Deal (The Mandalorian Oneshot)

Summary: You work as a mechanic and part time mercenary (when required) for Ran and his crew. Ran forces you on one more mission with an old Mandalorian “friend” alongside Mayfeld, Burg, Xi’an and Zero.

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Reader

Word Count: 3,220

Warnings/Disclaimers: Some violence, mentions of past injury

A/N: Takes place during The Prisoner. There will probably be a follow up piece at some point. I need to decide which direction to go in first.

Masterlist

You had just set down your soldering iron, having almost finished with an incapacitated droid’s wiring, when a pre-Empire ship landed in the the docking bay. Was this the “old friend” Ran had mentioned with a suspiciously sly grin? Part of you hoped so. This guy was supposed to be your ticket out of here. At least... If everything goes according to plan.

Pulling off your gloves, you swiped away the sweaty hairs sticking to your forehead before moving to the nearby lockers for your armor. Now that the esteemed guest was here, you might as well get ready. You didn’t have much armor-wise but it was enough to protect your chest and back. Being the newest member of the crew, they had not afforded you much to work with.

Now suited up, you attached your blaster to your hip and hid a vibroblade in your boot. When you turned back to face the ship, the ramp was down and Ran was walking vaguely in your direction with a Mandalorian at his side. Wait... A Mandalorian?! Ran had failed to mention that part.

They stopped by Mayfeld first for introductions with you being called over shortly after Mayfeld made his typically dumb comments. You offered a handshake to the Mandalorian while giving your name.

He hesitated momentarily before taking your hand in a solid grip. “Call me ‘Mando’.”

You nodded resolutely. Man of few words. You could work with that. It was certainly better than Mayfeld never shutting up.

Then, Burg found his way to your group, making mention of how he expected Mandalorians to be bigger. And finally there was Xi’an. She started in her typical psychotic fashion with one of her knives to Mando’s clothed throat. He didn’t even flinch having obviously already met, something else you had to learn on your own. Apparently, this Mando had run with Ran’s crew years ago. Just from this meeting, you wondered what changed. The current Mando just didn’t seem the type.

During the whole exchange, you kept quiet off to the side, trying not to roll your eyes or shake your head. Your “teammates” were being assholes again, and you wanted no part of it. Though Mando’s helmet faced the others, you could feel his gaze on you. Being a part of all of this... Yeah, he had no reason to trust you.

As the group meandered to the ship you now knew as the Razor Crest, you fell to the back and made yourself as small as possible so as not to attract their attention. Mando was the only one to notice, fading away from the crew to fall in line with you.

“What’s someone like you doing with them, Mesh’la?” he asked in a hushed tone.

Mesh’la? What does that word mean? You just shrugged, keeping your gaze straight ahead. Burg may have said he was small, but to you he was tall and imposing, especially when he was so close to your side. “I don’t have much choice. I owe them.”

His helmet tilted to the side, silently asking you to continue. Why does he care? Shaking your head, you sped up your gait and climbed the ramp.

Once your little rag-tag group plus the droid Zero settled aboard the ship, you took a moment to lean back on the wall and close your eyes. It was one of the ways you calmed your nerves. With Zero plugged into the system, Mando climbed down the cockpit, joining the rest of you in the hull. Then, the “fun” began.

“Let’s see your face, Mandalorian,” Burg started in along with Mayfeld.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, sighing quietly but still with plenty of exasperation. This was Mando’s ship, and they had the nerve to harass him about his helmet. “Are we really doing this right now?” you muttered under your breath.

Xi’an called your name in a poisonously sweet tone, “Dear, keep your mouth shut.”

Guess she managed to hear you over all the noise. Maker, you really did not like her. She was always on your case about something, trying to make your life harder than necessary.

The boys continued egging Mando on, Burg going so far as to get physical to force the helmet off. In the scuffle, they managed to hit a button for a compartment in the far wall, causing it to swish open and reveal both the cutest and strangest little creature you had ever seen.

Mayfeld picked it up and held it out where you were able to get a better look. Its bright brown eyes enraptured you immediately, and stars, you wanted to pet those big ol’ ears. Its oversized robe that it was swaddled in tied together the whole aesthetic. It hadn’t even been five minutes, and you would give your life for this child.

Then, the former Empire lackey had to start screwing around. Mando visibly tensed underneath all that armor like he was ready to rip Mayfeld apart if anything happened to the kid. It was when he pretended he was going to drop the little one that you broke. Pushing yourself off the wall, you gently snatched the kid away into your arms, one hand holding his head protectively.

“Kriff, what is wrong with you?!” You tenderly stroked the child’s head. He happily cooed at you, reaching for your face. “You may be a merc, but there are lines that should not be crossed!”

The entirety of the hull was stunned into silence at your outburst, including yourself. You usually kept to yourself, only speaking when spoken to, but you were fuming now.

As you faced Mando to return the kid, Zero announced an immediate drop from hyperspace. Tousled and sent to the floor, you somehow swiveled yourself just enough to keep from squishing the child, landing hard on your shoulder blade. The Razor Crest violently docked on the prisoner ship, preventing you from sitting up to check on the kid. The instant the vibrations ceased, you found yourself being pulled up to your feet.

“Thanks, Mando.” Cute baby babbling attracted your attention. “You good, Little Green?”

He squeaked, pleased with his new nickname. His clawed fingers clutched your chest armor. Had you not been wearing your armor, he probably would have left little holes in your shirt with how tightly his claws clung to you. You gingerly pried him off, and passed him to Mando, earning you one solid nod. He placed the kid back in the sleeping compartment, safely shutting him inside when he was comfortable.

After making sure the hatch was correctly attached to the prisoner ship, Mando returned to your side. His stance made it clear he was not going first. That was Mayfeld’s job anyways. You usually were somewhere in the middle when it came to scoping out a new environment, so you stood by waiting for your turn. Once Burg was down, you started towards the hatch, but you were harshly shoved to the side and knocked into Mando.

“Oh, sorry, Sweetie. Didn’t see you there.” Xi’an’s lips curled into a predatory grin.

You gave her no reaction, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. You waited for her to disappear down the hatch before shaking your head with a sigh.

“Hasn’t changed a bit,” Mando muttered.

You shrugged with a light laugh. “People like her probably don’t want to.”

With that, you slid down the ladder.

Of course there had to be a shootout. Your group had run into a set of security droids, their fire pinning you down in the hall. Firing a couple of shots, you turned to Mando but only caught a glimpse of his cloak swishing around the corner. Kriff! Where’s he running off to?

It was only when he was completely out of sight that the others noticed, Mayfeld griping about him abandoning them. You continued shooting at the droids, not doing a very good job of aiming from your position. Cautiously poking your head out to get a better idea of where they were, you saw Mando standing proudly behind the droids. As though for dramatic effect, he paused before extending the blade to the knife he was holding. The way he did it with such confidence... Okay, kinda hot.

Stuck in a trance, you could only crouch there and watch as Mando radiated grace and power, slicing through the droids like a whirlwind. And you had to admit the unexpected flamethrower was a nice touch at the end. What other weapons did he have at his disposal?

With the droids out of the picture permanently, you gathered yourselves and made for the control room where a rather sad, unimpressive New Republic officer sat quivering. Mayfeld immediately teased and threatened the poor guy, though you were pretty sure he was more terrified of Mando’s presence than Mayfeld’s word vomiting. The officer held up a remote that could call in the authorities who would destroy the ship. Having had enough, Mando stepped in to calm the situation. However, your soft breath of relief was short lived. Mayfeld brandished his blasters, aiming them at the officer. Mando set his firearm’s sight on the ex-Imp who returned the favor.

“We don’t have time for this,” you scowled and raised your blaster at Mayfeld. “Let’s just get what we need and go!”

“You know, I liked you better when you didn’t speak,” he spat. “And what, you’re on his side now?”

Mando almost imperceptibly inched his way to place himself more in between you and Mayfeld.

“And I liked you since never. So there’s that,” you snarked, keeping your firearm trained on him. “Mando’s right. No one needs to die.”

You caught a glimpse of hope in the officer’s eyes that was immediately snuffed out with one of Xi’an’s throwing knives. No one appreciated that move, especially since it caused the remote had been accidentally activated. Finding the cell number, you all ran from the room and down the alarm-ridden halls, Burg using his raw strength to pummel and throw a couple of large, black droids housing heavy artillery along the way. Reaching the target’s cell was easy after that.

When the cell door opened, you did not expect to see a male Twi’lek. Then again, you didn’t know what you were expecting to begin with. Qin, as you quickly learned, was Xi’an’s brother and Mando’s former ally from when he worked for Ran. Before you had time to comprehend everything, Burg was shoving Mando into the cell. You reached out for his arm to pull him back out before it was too late, but wound up on the floor next to him.

Xi’an’s lips turned upwards into a sneer and peered at you through the opening in the door, making it clear she was the one you threw you in.

“Guess this is goodbye, Sweetie. Just so you know, I always hated you being around,” she hissed with a grin.

“Tch. At least the feeling is mutual,” you growled back and sat up. How did anyone put up with her?

Before running off, they shot a blaster into the cell. Mando pulled you underneath him, wrapping around you so his beskar could shield you both from the laser blast loudly bouncing off the walls. When the sound ceased, Mando lifted his head tentatively just to be sure the blast had dissipated. He lifted his weight off of you, and helped you to your feet.

“You alright, Mesh’la?” There was that word, again.

His hand lingered on your shoulder just a moment longer than it should.

You nodded with a frown. “Other than being pissed at those guys for locking us in here, I’m fine.”

A light squeeze to your shoulder and he released you, checking out the opening at the top of the door. He let out a frustrated sigh. There wasn’t much time to get back to the Razor Crest, and if you did manage to get out, you’d have to make it back before the others did. Things were not looking very good.

You leaned against the wall, closing your eyes to think. “This was supposed to be an unmanned vessel, right?”

Mando rotated on his heel to look at you. “Yes.”

“So then the droids are the ones who can open the doors.”

“Yes...”

His head snapped back to the door, hearing a droid marching down the hall. It was like he read your mind. You were about to ask him if he had anything that could trap a droid when a grappling wire shot out from his vambrace, wrapping around a security droid and dragging it to the door. He proceeded to drop the droid while keeping its dismembered arm which he used to open the door.

“Damn, you’re good.” You had to keep your jaw from dropping.

With a cocky head tilt, he ushered you out of the cell and back to the control room where Mando hit the right switches to close specific doors, splitting up the four mercenaries. Rats in a maze.

Burg was the first combatant. He had gotten to the control room where you and Mando ambushed him. While the win did go to you two, damn it hurt being slammed into the ground like that. After that, Mando had you head straight for the ship to take care of Zero while he focused on the others. Unfortunately for you, you ran into Qin just as you were about to climb the ladder.

“Aww, how cute. You abandoned your little Mandalorian to get out of here alive,” Qin cooed menacingly.

You whipped around with your blaster in hand, clicking the safety off. “If that’s what you want to think, fine.” Your lips pressed together in a fine line.

“Now, now, Sweetheart.” He kept coming towards you slowly as though trying to make himself seem docile. “How about this? You and me leave together. We live and you get whatever reward Ran has for you.”

“If you’re anything like your sister,” you scoffed, “then I’d be better off leaving you for dead here. Now stand down.”

He chuckled, “How can I stand down when I’m unarmed, Sweetheart?”

Hearing that pet name from his mouth made your skin crawl. You wanted to get away from him as fast as possible, but you’d never make it up the ladder in time nor would you be able to run past him. You could just shoot and he would never bother you again, but you really did not want to kill anyone. You had gone the past few years as a temp merc without having to commit such an act. Sure, you hurt people but you could never bring yourself to cross that line. It still made you sick just leaving a bruise on someone.

Qin could feel your reluctance and kept slinking closer. You needed to do something. If he made it within arms reach, he would attack and you could possibly lose your gun, your advantage, in the scuffle. While you were scrappy, your physical strength could be easily overpowered. Thankfully, you didn’t have to worry too much about that.

Mando rounded the corner silently (how in all that armor you will never know) and now had his blaster pressed against the back of Qin’s head.

“Unarmed but still a threat,” Mando snarled through his modulator.

Qin froze on the spot. “Mando... Good to see you, again...” He nervously laughed.

Mando did not say a word. He grabbed Qin by the arm, forcing him to turn around so his back was to you while being cuffed.

“You killed them, didn’t you?” Qin asked quietly.

“They got what they deserved.”

Back on the Razor Crest, you sat in the copilot seat to Mando’s left while Qin, who was not allowed out of anyone’s site, sat to the right. Just before Mando jumped into hyperspace, the child appeared next to you, tugging on your pants. He practically clambered up your leg to settle himself in your lap, much to Mando’s chagrin.

“Hey, Little Green,” you whispered, bouncing the cutie on your leg.

With hyperspace, came a comfortable silence. You were lucky Qin decided to keep his mouth shut. He was technically still a prisoner.

“I used to be a mechanic on Coruscant,” you started.

The pilot seat swiveled just enough for you to know Mando was listening, his helmet titled curiously.

“You wanted to know how I ended up on Ran’s crew, right?”

He nodded for you to continue. In the corner of your eye, you saw Qin pretending not to pay attention.

“Because Ran and his crew started up a shootout with a rival merc group, I was shot and bleeding out. He did help me but apparently saving my life after being the cause in the first place wasn’t a fair trade to him. I wasn’t in my right mind to argue...”

Qin just smirked knowingly. After getting to know Ran, it wasn’t uncommon for him to pull stunts like that. He always got what he wanted.

Mando turned to fully face you as you looked away to rub the little one’s ear who contentedly babbled and played with the fingers of your free hand.

“Is there any way out of the deal?”

You shrugged. “This was it. If I helped retrieve the target,” you paused to glare at Qin, “then Ran would consider the deal fulfilled.”

“Then, you’re done.”

You sighed heavily. “I hope so. Pretty sure he won’t be too happy about losing three members while only gaining one.”

A chuckle snuck through his modulator. “You let me worry about that, Mesh’la.”

Qin sauntered down the ramp first, happily greeting Ran. Mando followed shortly after, placing himself in front of you.

“Where are the others?” Ran frowned.

Mando straightened his stance more, if that were even possible. “No questions, right?”

“Right...” Ran’s gaze focused on you as he said your name. “Got some more droids that need fixing.”

Taking a deep breath, you attempted to not grind your teeth. “That wasn’t the deal.”

“Yeah, well you lost crew members.”

Mando shifted to block Ran’s view. “The target has been retrieved and delivered. The deal is complete.”

He definitively turned his back on Ran, his cloak flourishing behind him. It had a very “I have spoken” vibe. Mando nodded for you to return to the ship. You registered Ran folding his arms like he was angrily pouting before walking off with Qin.

Back in the cockpit, the kid crawled his way back into your lap during take off.

Mando tilted his helmet in your direction. “Was there anything of importance to you on the station?”

“No... All I have are the clothes on my back.”

“Good.”

That was when the X-Wings dropped in and fired at the merc station, explosions lighting up the area.

“You brought that remote with you...”

Mando hummed in response.

“Nice.”

The Razor Crest jumped into hyperspace and fell into another contemplative silence. Now you could appreciate the way the blue and white lights whizzing past reflected off Mando’s beskar. It was almost ethereal. As if on queue, he spun the pilot’s seat around.

“So. Need a job?”

You smirked lopsidedly as the child took one of your fingers in his tiny hands. “Why? You got any openings?”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #star wars #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #baby yoda #grogu #xi'an #mayfeld #migs mayfeld #burg #zero #qin

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 3 years

Text

Jealousy Chp 1- (Din Djarin x f!reader)

Summary: Mando has to recruit someone from his past to help him on a quarry who ends up sparking some jealous within you about their past. Rating: Teen Warnings: mentions of sexual acts, some language AO3 link | Chp 2 (in progress) | Masterlist Join my taglist via here! You sat in the co-pilot chair like you always did as Mando piloted you off to a nearby planet. You were on your way to pick up some back up. Mando had gotten a new quarry from Karga but this one required some extra hands and unfortunately for him the best person he knew to help with the job was an old teammate of his, Xi’an. You had never met them but from the vibe Mando gave off you could tell they weren’t on the best terms. You sighed and leaned back in the chair. Hoping this quarry would get taken care of quickly so Mando could relax. He’d been tense since he realized he would need Xi’an’s help. It wasn’t a long trip to the planet to pick them up and once the ship had been parked Mando signed, rising from his seat. “Stay put. I’ll be right back. Shouldn’t be long.” He says, walking past you and down the ladder. You stay put for a few minutes until you hear the hull’s door open again and a very chaotic giggle echo through the ship. Mando’s heavy footsteps make their way back up the ladder followed by a light set. “I see the ship is the same since last time we worked together. Still have that little creature?’ She giggles and then her eyes meet yours. “Oh. Who’s this Mando?” “I’m Y/N. Mando hired me for some extra help. Mostly with the kid.” You smile and extend your hand. Xi’an giggles and plops into the opposite co-pilot chair. You take your hand back after she doesn’t accept it and sigh. “So big ole scary Mando needs help huh? He can’t handle a baby?” She giggles again. Mando sighs but doesn’t reply as he set the crest into hyperdrive to the designated planet of the quarry. “He can.” You chime in. “He just hired me as extra help to watch the kid when out hunting and for other tasks around the ship.” “Other tasks you say…?” She smirks. “Same tasks as I used to do Mando?” She asks. Mando ignores her, keeping his head forward. You raise and eyebrow at her wanting to question but decide against. You look at the dashboard and see it’ll be awhile until you arrive to the designated planet. This is going to be a long trip you think to yourself. You’re sat in silence for a while. Mando eventually gets up and tells you he is going to check on the kid and will be right back. He gently caresses your cheek on his way by which catches Xi’an’s attention unknown to your knowledge. You nod and look over at Xi’an who is busying herself playing with her knife. Once Mando is gone down the ladder she smirks at you and speaks. “So… he’s good isn’t he?” She smiles, her fangs showing. “Hunter? Yes. He’s incredibly good at his job.” You reply. She lets out a high pitched giggle and wiggles her knife at you, “No silly. I mean he’s good in the bedroom no?” Your eyes widen. Her and Mando…? No. He would have told you wouldn’t he? He made it sound like they were just work partners in the past. Not partner partners. You stay silent. Unsure how to answer. Sure you and Mando have become more intimate since you joined him on the crest. You both admitted to having feelings for each other but you two haven’t gone beyond certain limits yet. Xi’an giggles as she notices your silence and wide eyes.“Oh. My apologies… You two aren’t like that. I just assumed off of how he was with his last companion. Which was me. Guess he isn’t into you like that...” She smirks. She knows she is pushing your buttons. “He really is good though. Mhmm how I miss it. The things he’d do. Mhm~.” You glare at her and go to speak when Mando returns climbing up the ladder. He looks at both you and Xi’an. Sensing the tense air. “What’s going on here?” He asks looking between you both. “Nothing. I’m going to take a nap.” You snap and head down to the bunker where the kid is.“What the kriff did you do?” Mando snarls at Xi’an. “Nothing. I just was having a conversation.” She smiles. Mando sighs. “Don’t touch anything that will knock us off course. I’ll be back.” Xi’an throws her hands up in response and smirks. “Yes sir.” A giggle erupts from her then. Mando makes his way back down the ladder to the hull and walks over to the bunker where the door is shut. He knocks first, waiting for a response. He doesn’t hear one so pushes the button to open it. There he finds you curled up under the blankets with the kid wrapped snuggled next to you. “I know you’re not taking a nap.” He says. “Well I’m trying to but I’m being interrupted now.” You reply. “You slept for 10 hours last night. There’s no way you’re tired. She said something to upset you… What did she say?” He asks, sitting on the edge of the bed.“Nothing of importance. Just go away.” You groan. The child crawls out of your arms and to Mando. He picks him up and sits him in his pram floating outside the door but leaves it open. “Mesh’la…please...” Mando sighs.You sit up and look at him with a glare. “I thought you said she was an old work partner?” “She is. Her and I worked together with a few others as a crew back in the day until I decided to go on my own.” He says. You scoff and sit up to look at him. “Convenient how you left out the fact that you were more than just work partners…” Mando sighs and balls his hands into fists. “We were more than work partners, yes. Her and I have a past but it’s the past. We aren’t associated anymore and the fact that I need her help on this job irritates the kriff out of me.” “She… she was taunting me. Told me things about you guys. Things we don’t do or have.” You look away. “Do you not… feel the same way about me that you felt about her?” “Cyar’ika…” Mando reaches a hand out and grabs yours. “You know I love you. I haven’t done things with you that I did with her because well… I want this to last. I don’t want to rush anything. Her and I weren’t in love. Not like we are. We were just… work partners with benefits honestly.” He says. You eye him, wiping back the few tears that fell from your eyes. He reaches a hand out and wipes away a few from your cheek with his thumb. “I want to do things when you are ready. I don’t want to rush into anything with you. I already do so much more with you than I ever did with her.” He says. “You do?” You questioned. “Yes. I have never taken my helmet off around her like I do with you in the dark or when you're blindfolded. I never shared a bed with her like we do every night. We didn’t share a special bond like we do. I never told her my real name and so much more. Again it wasn’t love… “ He says, pulling you closer to him. You snuggle into his hard beskar covered chest and sigh. “Din?” You ask looking up at him. He looks at you, tilting his helmet to the side a bit. “I know you said you haven’t done things with me because you want to take things slow and do them when I am ready… can we… go to the next step?” You ask. “Are you sure?” He asks back. “Yes I am sure. I’ve wanted to for a while honestly.” You chuckle. “I have too mesh’la. So, yes we can.” He rubs your back. “But not now. Let’s finish this quarry and get rid of the annoying third party that is sitting upstairs causing maker knows what trouble.” He chuckles. “Come back up to the cockpit with me? I’ll make her behave. Even if I have to shove her in carbonite for the time being.” You chuckle and nod, taking his hand and following him back up to the cockpit. Climbing back into the pilot chair you give Xi’an an icy glare, keeping your mouth shut though. “Keep your mouth shut for the rest of the trip please Xi’an? I’m sure you’d rather stay here in that chair than in carbonite” Mando says. Xi’an scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Fine fine…” The rest of the trip to the quarry is ridden in silence. Once the Razor Crest landed Xi’an makes her way down to the hull to wait for Mando. Before he descends down the ladder to join her he stops at your in your co-pilot chair. Cupping your cheek to look up at him. “I’ll be right back. This shouldn’t take long hopefully. The sooner this gets done the sooner we can ditch her and have some fun. I’ll try to make it quick” He says with a smirk even though you can’t see it. He strokes your cheek and then descends down to meet Xi’an to go off for the quarry, leaving you alone in the ship with the kid.

Taglist: @sarahjkl82-blog @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @nikkixostan

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #the mandalorian #mandalorian #star wars #fanfic #ao3

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xwing-baby · 4 years

Text

A Day Off (Mandalorian x Reader)

This was inspired by everyone’s favourite @dindjarindiaries and her lovely fic ‘The Challenge’ go read it because it's way better than this bullshit that my brain came up with. You’re an amazing writer Molly, I am sorry for this. I’m not sure why I really wrote this, but I hope you enjoy!

IMAGINE: Din leaves you for the day to go on a hunt. You entertain yourself and end up very drunk by the time he comes to find you. Hilarity ensues. (Drink responsibly kids!)

Word count: 2.4k... this was meant to be short.

Warnings: Mention of alcohol, violence, and vomit! Please drink responsibly!! Cheeky bit of pining, little bit of flirting, fluff at the end!

The decision to leave you out of today’s hunt was a mutual one. You were tired and in need of a rest, the quarry was easy and Din was more than capable on his own anyway. So, he left you in a small town a few miles from his destination. In that small town, you found a tired old cantina, filled with enough booze and pleasant conversation to survive the next few hours.

The hunt was done, the victim handed off successfully to the right person and Din was on his way to find you so you could move on to the next planet. He was tired and bruised from the hunt and wanted to get back to the safety of the Crest sooner rather than later, but knew as soon as he heard your distinctive laugh from outside the cantina that that was not going to be the reality.

As if you knew he was coming, you stumbled out of the door before he could even open it. Your hair was messed up, strands falling out of the tie and into your face. There was liquid spilled down the front of your shirt and your boots were untied. You looked a mess. For a second he was a little worried, until a goofy smile spread across your face when you recognised him.

“You came back!” You threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around the Mandalorian. Shocked, Din stands still. Not really sure what to do with himself. You notice and laugh, stumbling back off him. “You were gone for like a million hours! I missed you”

“It was ten hours,” Din said with a smile, “But we’re going now,”

“Great, ‘cus I don’t think I can go back in there again,” You ran ahead of Din a few paces and grimaced. “Not a lot of friends were made today! But-but- but! I did a good thing actually!” Din just kept walking, trying not to entertain your rambling. You carried on anyway, you were used to his silence by now. “There was this twi’lek right, looked great but oh my stars! The worst! Turns out he knew you! Everyone knows you, not a surprise there. But he also knew that I was with you and tried to chat shit about you!” You were shouting now, gesturing animatedly and zigzagging across the street. “And he kept going so I just punched him,” You mimicked your actions from early, swinging your arm and using the momentum to turn back around to face the Mandalorian, “Punched him straight in the face! It was awesome!”

“You didn’t need to do that,”

“He was an asshole of course I did,” You sighed, “And apparently you know his sister or something? Didn’t realise you were such a Casanova, Tinman!” Again Din didn’t reply. He knew exactly who you were on about and was a little proud that you’d punched the guy. Must have been Xi’an’s brother. “Well, of course you are,” You continued. “You’re so freaking handsome all the time, and nobody can even see your face!” You swung back around to walk forward again, swinging your arms by your sides and giggling as you thought about what the Mandalorian might look like. You hadn’t been in his crew long but had developed feelings for him quite quickly. Not that Din knew this, “You know, I bet you’re really pretty under that helmet,” You tapped the top of his head for emphasis. “I don’t think you understand how pretty you are with it on! Maybe it’s for the best that you keep it on, you’d never be able to get anything done!”

“Alright, y/n,”

“You’re going to make some woman very happy one day Mando,” You said with a dreamy look in your eye.

Din smiled and blushed a little at your words. At the same time you had developed feelings for Din, Din had developed feelings for you. He was very glad to have the helmet to hide how obvious a blush came to his face when you said things like that. He wanted nothing more than to make you happy, if you only knew.

The pair carried on walking out of the town, and towards the small valley the crest had been hidden in. You carried on rambling away, telling him in immense detail everything that had happened while he was gone.

“And then I got challenged to a drinking contest with this other dude. I say dude but turns out he was a Wookie. And I won! Everyone says I didn’t but I saw the way he walked out of there, I won so hard! Drunk him under the table,” You spoke quickly and animatedly. Din wasn’t really listening anymore, just enjoying the sound of your voice and watching you as you walked ahead making sure you didn’t fall over. “You should have been there and we could have smashed it!” You laughed, spinning around to face him again now with a puzzled look on your face. “Have you ever been drunk, Mando?”

“A few times,” He replied, “Watch where you’re going,”

“I am,” You say, continuing to walk backwards anyway. You thought about something for a second then spoke again, “But what about the Creed? Don’t you have to drink alone? Or,” You stopped again and burst into laughter. Din stopped walking, his patience growing a little thin. “D-do you, Ha!” You could barely get your words out, tears streaming down your face laughing at your own thoughts. “To- to get around the cr-creed… oh my stars!”

“Y/n I don’t have time for this,” He said sharply.

“You have to use a straw!” You howled with laughter. Din shook his head, he wanted to be annoyed at you but your infectious laugh had caught him. He stifled his own laughter. “I want to see it so bad! Oh my stars!”

“You’ve had your fun now,” Din tried to sound serious, his voice wavering a bit through the modulator as he tried not to laugh.

“Yes, yes… oh! I’m sorry,” You tried to take a deep breath to calm yourself down. “Yes, I’m sorry you’re a super serious Mandalorian you wouldn’t use a straw!” You coughed to force yourself to calm down but cackled with laughter again. Din started walking again, leaving you behind a few paces while you calmed yourself down. Eventually, you followed and saw the ship over the crest of the hill.

“I’ll race you!” You called, already speeding past the Mandalorian down the grassy hill. “Winner gets the refresher first!”

You ran as fast as you could, and looked back for just a second to see that your companion hadn’t followed you. Before you could even blink you tripped and fell on a rock sticking out of the grass. You fell, flipping over and landing with a thud on your back. You skidded to a halt at the bottom of the hill, conveniently next to your intended destination. This made Din run.

Once he got to the bottom where you were, his panic quickly vanished as he found you in fits of laughter yet again.

“Did you see that!” You laughed. “I won!”

“Are you alright?”

“My back hurts a little, but I won, loser!” You exclaimed, putting your fingers in a ‘L’ on your forehead. Din rolled his eyes. As if this whole experience couldn’t get more ridiculous. “Not going to help me up?” You pouted and held up your arms like a child. Din uncrossed his arms and held his gloved hand out for you to grab and pulled you up to your feet again. The back of your shirt was ripped and grass stains covered the pale materials along with a few drops of blood. You didn’t seem concerned at all as the alcohol in your system was numbing everything.

Din opened the Crest and you walked up the ramp to the safety of its interior.

“Where’s the baby?” You whispered loudly. Ever since you’d joined the crew you’d loved the Child like your own. Another thing Din admired about you. “Baby! We’re back,”

“Why are you whispering?”

“Shh!” You shoved your hand over the front of his helmet, “He might be sleeping,” Din pushed your hand off, and you carried on walking into the ship, creeping on your tiptoes.

“I think you need to go to sleep,”

“Only if you’ll come with me,” You turned around and looked the Mandalorian up and down, your playful attitude now turning darker. You played with the buttons of your shirt, slowly undoing them. Din was stunned, freezing in his spot.

“That wouldn’t be appropriate,” Din tried to stay composed, but it was becoming more and more difficult as you took your top off. He knew he couldn’t do anything, you were way too drunk. He wasn’t an idiot. But he was also human.

“I bet you’re so pretty under there,” You sighed. You moved to be closer to him when a small green creature stood on a box and caught your attention instead. “Hey little guy!” Din took a sigh of relief, the tension you had created dissipated almost instantly as you bent down to pet the little creature.

While you were distracted he checked over your back, seeing only a few scrapes and deciding it would be fine until the morning when you’d sobered and also weren’t trying to flirt with him anymore. Well, the last part he didn’t mind so much.

Din went about his usual take-off activities. He could hear you talking to the Child, telling the little thing about your day and listening to it babble back, acting as if you could understand what it was saying. Eventually, you disappeared into the ship. Din hoped that you had gone to sleep.

You hadn’t. You went to throw up, ultimately finding an empty freight box. The mixture of spinning from alcohol and the bumpy takeoff made for an upsetting mix. The Child grimaced and put its hand up to comfort you. An odd feeling washed over you, like a warm water trickling through you, then you felt better. You could see straight now. The Child seemed happy with whatever it had done and toddled away.

You pushed yourself off the floor, and went in search of a new shirt. The cold chill of space had begun to seep into the ship's cracks making you shiver. You stumbled into Din’s quarters, you shouldn’t have been in there but it was the first place you thought to look for a new shirt. And you found one. His cot was messy, clothes thrown around the small room. You couldn’t help but think about him then, getting out of that armour…

It was too much. You shook your head. Even your drunk brain knew it was wrong to think about him like that. He didn’t like you, like that, there was no need to encourage the idea. Instead, you pulled the closest piece of clothing on. It was a little too big, but it smelt like him which made you smile.

You decided to go to the cockpit to bother the Mandalorian again. It was lonely being drunk on your own. You climbed up to the cockpit and stood in the door silently. Din was talking quietly to the Child, trying to pull it away from the many shiny switches on the control panel. You grinned, seeing him with the child made your heart soar. He was so sweet to the creature, for a moment you could forget what a formidable character the Mandalorian really was. He acted like the creature’s dad and it was entirely believable. Quietly, you settled into the seat to his right, looking out as the stars streamed past in hyperdrive. Din had noticed, though didn’t say anything. It was silent for a moment or two, bar the Child’s playful squeals as it played with a silver ball. Din figured you had fallen asleep, glad that you weren’t trying to flirt with him anymore.

“When are you going to let me fly?” You ask suddenly. Din turns to you, but doesn’t say anything. This was almost a daily discussion. It was always no. “I know you said no the last time but I really think you’re underestimating me. I land badly one time and you never trust me to fly your ship!”

“You crashed,” Mando said plainly.

“One time!” You exclaimed. “I’ll have you know it was very harsh conditions, and desert planets are very deceptive! Give me a nice- a nice planet,” You slurred as your eyes become heavier, “and I promise I will land the crest beautifully,”

“No way,”

“Spoil sport,” You grumble. The Child hopped up into your lap, and presented the silver ball it had in its mouth, which made you giggle. You settled further into the seat, throwing your legs over the armrest, kicking them against the leather. The Child sat in your lap and showed you its new trick of making the item float.

Mindlessly you began to sing, quietly, and play with the Child. The melody made Din’s ears prick, you were singing in Mando’a, a song that he hadn’t heard since he was a child. Your voice made him shiver, memories flooding back of the few happy moments of his life when this song was sung last.

You sang it to the end, with very few mistakes, making Din wonder how long you’d known it. You must have known it for a while, but you’d never understood him when he spoke the language before.

“Where did you learn that?” He finally caved and asked, wanting nothing more than for you to sing it again.

“I learnt it for you,” You said with a yawn, your eyes closing. You started singing again, the words now fading into mumbles and eventually you fell asleep. He turned in his chair to look at you as you were quiet once more. You’d curled yourself up in the chair, head tilted back resting on the wall. The Child sat in your chest, playing with the ends of your hair. The child looked at Din and smiled, then back at you. It's a little green hand patting your leg and it cooed.

“I know, kid.”

A/N: That ended a lot softer than I planned but hey ho. Remember drink responsibly, don’t challenge a wookie to a drinking challenge, you will lose. They’re massive. Goodnight!

Tagging: @captain-skytrash @dindjarindiaries @dartheldur @inked-poet @tortles

#this is dumb but I kind of like it now #the mandalorian #star wars #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #star wars x reader #din djarin #mando x reader #x reader #drabble #writing #fanfictio #the child #baby yoda #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din x reader #baby yoda x reader #mandalorianxreader

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brittababbles · 3 years

Text

Only Mine - Target Practice part 2

Din Djarin x reader

Author’s Note and Warnings: Target Practice part 2, just in time for new Mando! This is still young!Din. Warnings: some stalkerish tendencies, moderate voyeurism, a creepy guy with abusive behaviors, implied murder, straight up deep throating, unprotected vaginal sex. So all the goods. Enjoy

You’ve had better days.

Being received by the engineer-in-charge, twenty minutes later than you should have arrived, to be informed that half the fleet was due to have taken off ten minutes ago but certain ships needed repairs that weren’t complete, was not exactly the prelude to a happy, relaxed sort of morning. Not that most mornings were either happy or relaxed on this space station.

The fact that every engineer on the station was scurrying about like so many alarmed rats while every pilot on the station chased after them, in varying states of panic, did nothing to lower your nerves. You trotted obligingly across the hanger, following your boss toward an old and shivering freighter that was coughing out disquieting amounts of bright blue smoke. Your eyes were not fixed on the ship in front of you, however, but scanning the immediate area for a familiar glint of metal.

Interesting. All pilots were here but one, it seemed.

You dropped your tools at the foot of the belching engine and watched the screeching pilot descend the loading ramp. Your boss, Brejor, immediately launched into a heated argument with the small, blue-skinned man, evidently about either payment or your qualifications, which gave you time to examine your patient.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” you murmured soothingly, running your hand over the engine’s durasteel external paneling.

Given the smell and color of the smoke being produced, you guessed something was wrong with the fuel injection system, and likely the heat produced from the malfunction was melting half the coatings off the hyperdrive. You sighed and glanced down at your bag. You’d need a hyperspanner, and you didn’t have one with you.

“Be right back,” you muttered, tapping your boss on the shoulder to get his attention.

He threw a grunt back at you before resuming his heated discussion.

You jogged back across the hanger, feeling a little foolish for having just made the same trip in the opposite direction. Reaching one of the storage cabinets, you tugged on the rusted door and stepped into the dimly lit storage room. You ambled mildly among the metal-grate shelves, and, locating the hyperspanner at just-above eyeline, stood on your toes to reach it.

You heard a grunt, then a cackle, from the other side of the metal shelf, and glanced through a gap in the back-stocked parts.

It was extremely hard to misunderstand what you were seeing.

Kneeling on the floor was a young Twi’lek woman. Your brain registered that you’d seen her before, and that you’d learned her name to be Xi’an, but that she was not nearly so familiar as who she knelt in front of. There was hardly any way to mistake the Baskar.

The Twi’lek’s hand was wrapped around Mando’s cock, pumping up and down it’s length with increasing speed. For his part, the Mandalorian was leaning backward against a stack of crates behind him. His head was tipped downward, watching Xi’an’s ministrations on his cock.

You were aware that you should grab your tools and exit the storage room as quickly as possible, but instead you stood, transfixed, your mind lingering between fascination and jealousy.

And, if you were honest with yourself, a touch of arousal.

The Twi’lek girl was speaking, her voice so low that you had to strain your ears to catch what she said.

“You like that, Mando, hmm?” she growled.

He didn’t answer, simply tipped his head back slightly, enjoying the sensation.

And his visor met your eyes.

You rocked back on your heels and bit your lip slightly, expecting him to speak, to stop what the girl was doing, to insist on an explanation.

Instead he gave a familiar, deep growl. You watched, blinking in genuine disbelief as his body twitched under Xi’an’s touch. Clearly the Twi’lek was just as surprised as you were, for she scrambled to fit his generous size into her mouth in a rush. Mando shuddered once more, then reached between his legs to press the palm of his hand to Xi’an’s forehead. You watched as he pushed her away.

“Get out,” he growled.

You had no idea which of you he was addressing, but took the hyperspanner your fingers were already twisted around and skittered gracelessly toward the door. Your trip across the hanger was no less hasty. You dropped the hyperspanner at Brejor’s feet.

“It’s the fuel injectors. I need the refresher,” you said stiffly, avoiding his eyes.

Without further explanation, you scampered out of the hanger and to the nearest vacant refresher. You slammed the door behind you and pressed your back against the cool metal wall.

What – what had you just witnessed?

Your hand trailed gently over your chest as you carefully replayed the events you’d witnessed in the storage room. The subtle way he’d changed in position when his visor met your eyes. The way his body arched over the crates behind him. The thick spurts of cum across the Twi’lek’s cheek.

He hadn’t been so close when you’d walked in. You knew what he sounded like when he was close. The way his breath felt against your skin as he bucked against your body, the words that tumbled from his soft, full lips…

Your hand, seemingly of its own volition, was halfway down the waistband of your pants before your realized.

Had he come for you?

Oh fuck.

Your fingers found your clit and rubbed harshly as you lingered on the thought.

He’d cum, under some other girl’s hand, seemingly from simply meeting your eyes. He’d just been getting into it when you’d spotted them. Your brain’s ability to reason fizzled as your fingers pinched and scraped over your clit. You wished they were his. You wished he’d follow you to this stupid cold ‘fresher and take you right here against the wall and…

“Hnng, Mando…” you gasped.

It was far later than you’d like. The hanger was still crowded considering the hour, but not especially busy. You were flat on your back staring up into the fizzled engine of a cruiser that was well past its prime. You’d already pulled fifteen parts out of the engine block and the thing was still hissing at you like a disgusted loth-cat. You were covered in grime and were thoroughly annoyed that Brejor continued to hover over you like you needed supervision.

“Brejor?” you asked quietly, hopping to your feet and wiping your greasy hands on your pants

“What?” he asked sharply.

“Don’t you have… something, um, better to be doing? I can handle this one. If you finish the fighter over there, we can both be done”

Brejor actually smiled at you, a bright, toothy grin that didn’t fit his usual solemn face. He shoved away from the stack of metal crates he leaned against and tucked the holopad he was reviewing into a large pocket at his hip.

“That’s a girl, (Y/N). You’re sure you’ve got this?”

You nodded while trying to suppress a yawn. Brejor stretched, then clapped you on the shoulder before stalking off toward the heavily modified x-wing.

His absence revealed the Razor Crest to you in its entirety. You glanced at the ship, chewing on your bottom lip. He caught your eye at once.

Mando was leaning against the haul, arms folded, his helmet leaning slightly to one side. You try to ignore the thrill that ran up your spine at the sight of him watching you so intently. You blinked hard a couple times, turning your eyes to the tools in your hands. You wiped them down with a cloth Brejor had left behind, trying to shove the images from your mind of Mando in that storage room, of his head tipped backward, body sprawled across the crates…

“Hey there, gorgeous,” a voice said from somewhere behind you.

A hand gripped your upper arm and pulled you backward, away from your thoughts. You looked up to find yourself face to face with another human man. Ruddy faced, and clearly inebriated, he glanced unsubtly down your shirt before meeting your eyes.

Ah, shit.

“Jacllin,” you sighed.

The newcomer glanced between you and Mando on the other side of the hanger, his eyes narrowing.

“Thought you understood we had a date tonight, sweetheart?” he asked coldly.

You’d forgotten completely. Mando often had that effect on you.

“I um-“ you stuttered, not meeting the man’s eyes.

His grip on your upper arm tightened and he wrenched you toward him.

“Thought you’d find better dick somewhere else, huh? You little slut?” he growled.

You let out a wordless cry as his grip tightened on your arm.

“Let her go,” said a sharp voice.

You looked around to see Brejor standing at Jacllin’s other elbow, a rather hefty wrench in hand.

“This worthless little slut? Even you, Brejor, should know—”

“Let her go,” Brejor repeated, enunciating each word carefully.

Jacllin stared hard at Brejor, eyeing the wrench in his hands particularly hard. Glanced at you, then around the hanger. His eyes lingered on Mando for a second before he released your arm, shoving you hard against Brejor.

“You want her? Have her. She wasn’t much anyway. Barely enough to keep the cot warm,” and with that the other man stalked off.

Brejor set you carefully back on your feet.

“You okay, kid?” he asked, his voice remarkably calm.

You nodded, trying hard to swallow the lump in your throat. He watched you, leaning down a little to try to meet your eyes, before awkwardly patting your back.

“Well… take a minute and then get that engine done. We could both use the shut eye.”

Then he stomped back over to his own project.

You wiped your eyes on the back of your wrist and took a deep breath. Reflexively, your eyes were drawn back to the Razor Crest.

The ship stood sturdily as ever. But Mando was gone.

The light rap on the door several hours later brought you out of a fitful half-sleep.

You’d spent longer in the shower than usually would have, managing to cry out the majority of the shame that came with your private life presumably being the gossip of the station tomorrow. Your hair was no longer the drenched and tangled mess it had been hours ago, but it was still damp on the pillow as you sat up, rubbing at your dry eyes.

The soft, though impatient knock came again.

“Hmm?” you hummed, untangling your legs from your blankets and wrapping yourself in a thin cotton bathrobe before stumbling to the door. You squinted against the light of the hall as you peered through the peephole. A familiar helmet met your vision

The door slid open and you caught the telltale glint of Baskar before you were shoved wordlessly inside. He followed without explanation. Your hands impacted his chest plate as he pushed you further into the room, and there was something wet and sticky smeared across a tiny portion of the Baskar.

“This is blood?” you said blankly, your voice still partially asleep.

He hushed you as the door slid shut behind him.

“What…?”

Mando’s movements were oddly mechanical as he pressed you against your dresser, fumbling behind you for the black scrap of cloth to tie across your eyes. He seemed almost in shock himself. You reached behind you to grab his hand and found his glove slightly damp. He hissed quietly as you touched his fingers.

“Mando…?”

“He won’t hurt you again,” he said gruffly

“What?” you said again.

He ran his finger over the hand shaped bruise that had already formed on your upper arm, his touch uncharacteristically tender. His fingers edged the collar of your robe down your arm, revealing more and more of your skin.

“Bruises aren’t a good look for you, cyar’ika,” he said, his voice low.

It all settled into place rather quickly. The blood was…oh.

“Mando…” you whispered.

“I won’t let them hurt you, sweet girl,” he muttered.

“You shouldn’t…”

“I don’t care.”

He scooped you up into his arms and pressed you into the top of the dresser. Hastily he wrapped your face in the slim strip of black velvet – the thickest material you’d managed to find. His helmet hissed as he removed it, then clanked loudly on contact with the floor. His mouth pressed to your throat immediately.

“I don’t want to share you,” he growled against your pulse point.

You grappled at his hair, whimpering.

“I don’t want you to see anybody else,” he grumbled, nipping at your skin, “I don’t want you to think about anybody else,” he nipped again, “I want you to be right here when I want you. You understand, cyar’ika?”

“Mando…” you whined, squirming in his arms.

Abruptly his bare fingertips cradled your chin. He turned you to face him, and you knew that were it not for the blindfold, you’d be staring into his eyes.

“Just me, okay?” he said softly

“I… yes…” you said breathlessly, “Yes.”

“That’s my good girl,” he growled.

He pressed his lips to yours. His tongue pressed against your lower lip and you granted him access without thought, opening your mouth to take as much of him into yourself as you could. You entangled him in your arms, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. When one of your legs snaked around his hip, you realized he was still in the majority of his armor.

“Mando, you’re too…” you moaned, leaning away tapping your finger against his pauldron.

He snickered against your lips, then scooped you off the dresser and deposited you onto the bed in a swift motion.

“Is that what you want? More skin?” he asked, his tone unabashedly wicked as he lingered above you.

You hummed affirmatively, squirming your way up the bed to make room for him. He abruptly seized you by the wrists, pulling you up to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Take this off then,” he said softly.

He guided your hands to the plate of his armor that covered his thighs. With his fingers as your guide, you slowly removed his armor, piece by piece. When you stood wobbly to remove the chest plate, he laughed lowly and pressed his lips into your temple.

“You’re so good to me, cyar’ika,” he mused, “so soft and sweet.”

You didn’t speak, afraid to ruin the moment, as the last of his beskar tumbled to the floor. Your fingers raked at his tunic, pulling it upward until his warm skin was pressed against yours. His fingers lingered over yours, tracing over your much-smaller hands with careful caresses as he guided them to the hem of his pants. You slipped your fingers beneath them and carefully curled them around his cock, which was already half hard and desperately in need of more space. He rested his head against your bare shoulder.

“I don’t want to share you, either,” you murmured, your fingers stroking over the soft skin of his shaft.

“Hm?”

He hummed in question against your skin, but you were already sinking down, pushing him gently backward to let you kneel at the foot of the bed. You dragged his pants down with your free hand, letting his cock spring free, and traced the tip lightly with your fingertip.

“I don’t like it, Mando. I want this to be mine. Only mine,” you whispered, leaning forward to press a kiss to the tip of his cock.

Your fingers traced the underside of his shaft, dancing lightly over the skin you discovered there. You felt him trembling above you already.

“Cyar’ika, I—” he choked out.

“I don’t like Xi’an touching you,” you continued calmly, “I want to show you that you only need me. That I’m special.”

You pressed your lips to his head again, letting your tongue slip out to give little kitten licks along the sensitive skin. Mando whined above you, his voice cracking slightly.

“Please,” he gasped out, “show me.”

When you took him all the way into your mouth, you had to fight the urge to gag on the size of him. You closed your eyes under the blindfold and focused on what you were doing, feeling every ridge of him along the roof of your mouth. Your tongue flattened against him to trace the vein on the underside of his cock, and you hollowed your cheeks slightly. There was nothing especially graceful about the motion, as you started to bob your head, sliding the length of him against your tongue and sucking gently, though hard enough that your cheeks caressed the sides of him. But he didn’t seem to mind. He entangled on hand in your hair and twisted the length of it around his fingers. He didn’t pull, precisely, so much as guide your head into a rhythm he liked.

“Fu- oh fuck… cyar’ika I… fuck,” he groaned.

You found it difficult but managed to quirk your lips up into what at least felt like a grin. You carried on, letting him set the pace while you explored the surface of his skin with your mouth, your tongue stroking the small slit at his head as you suckled there gently, then grazing over his shaft with your lips as he thrust himself as far back into your throat as you could manage.

“Fuck, I’ve gotta… stop, sweet girl,” he growled suddenly.

Abruptly his hand was gone from your hair as he dragged his cock from your lips. He grasped you under the arms and gently tossed you backward into the bed again.

“Dammit, girl,” he hissed, clambering on top of you, “you almost had me there.”

Your grin instantly turned to an open-mouthed groan as he sinks himself to the root into your pussy. You hadn’t been aware of how wet you were, given your intense focus on the taste and texture of his cock, but the wonderful stretch that accompanied his motion brought only a pleasing sort of pain. As his hips rocked back to dive into you again, you heard the faint squelch that indicated exactly how soaked you were.

“That’s it,” he moaned bracing his hands on either side of your head and setting a shattering pace, “that’s it. Scream for me, cry for me. Lovely thing.”

You took direction well. Each time he pounded into you, it brought another shout from the base of your throat. He leaned in closer and you felt first his lips, then his teeth as he nipped at your throat. You rocked your hips up into his, losing yourself in the sensation of his thundering, pounding thrusts.

“Ugn, ah… Mando… I’m… I’m gonna… ah…..” your voice caught off in a high whine as your legs gripped around his hips.

“Just… another couple….” He panted back.

His hips pressed into yours erratically as you felt your walls start to flutter. Abruptly your body seized completely, propelling your chest upward against his as your back arched. You shrieked what might have been his name, or may have been unintelligible syllables as you thrashed in his arms, feeling him buckle into you with a deep moan. You trembled, legs still tangled about his waist, as his cum coated your insides, leaving your entire body feeling warm and sated.

He panted, still arched over you, head pressed into your shoulder. His hair stuck to your sweat sheened skin. The fingers of both hands were entangled with your own.

“You are special, cyar’ika,” he panted lowly, “you don’t even know.”

#target practice #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #the madalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #britta writes

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