#the mandalorion fanfic

[heartidylla]

the bitterness behind goodbyes

father figure!din djarin x p!teen!reader

summary : you and your little brother, grogu, come into contact with a mandalorian. after he earned your trust, you allow yourself to let him into your heart. as you continue on your path you eventually find what you’ve been looking for, a jedi.

warnings : angst

| a/n | : my daddy issues are spiking and i’m in desperate need of a good father figure like din is to grogu.

speaking color coding

“” — din

“” — you

“” — other

ducking your head while you held your little brother closer to you within your arms since overhearing a massive explosion coming from the near distance. you shielded him from any possibility of his little figure receiving damage.

sparks of bright yellow and shots of crimson red flooded into your eyesight as the massive weighted metal door was withstanding an assault against it. the moment the open fire stopped, you could make out the faint outline of a pathway.

the moment someone kicked down the door, you began to hold your breath in due to the amount of fear you held within you.

since you and your brother had been forced away from home, you were held captive. it was extremely traumatic for you, since you held the elder sister role and needed to protect the mindless youth with everything you had. you did, up until now. you were honestly deprived of sleep, and was in an urgent need for some nutrients.

all you wanted to do was flutter your eyes closed and hibernate for all the hours that were stolen from you due to your floppy eared green brother. you two looked completely different, and weren't related by blood; however, you two were connected on an emotional spectrum.

two figures began to make their way towards you. "the tracking fob is still active. my sensors indicate that there is two life forms present." the robotic voice vibrates against your eardrums, making more terror pulse into your veins as your heartbeat rose.

there was a pause as a beeping found started to rapidly increase its pace as the figure with entire metal armor turned into your direction.

he looked up, and made his way over to you. you're gaze followed from his boots all the way up to his glowing metal mask. you could almost make out your reflection within them.

you're bags were increasingly horrifying as dark circles were never appealing to anyone. "wait." the mandalorian called out to his robotic counterpart. "they said they were fifty years old." he stated, looking back and forth between you and your brother. it was obvious that neither of you looked to be over the age of fifty, or anywhere close to it.

you shifted underneath his confused gaze, and started to backtrack until your actual back hit the freezing wall. you shivered underneath the contact. your brother cooed in an unknowingly way. he didn't understand what was going on, and you didn't expect or want any less than that.

"species age differently." the robot reminded him, "though, she is quite small to be considered fifty as her species is. perhaps they both could live many centuries." he pointed out gesturing his gun over to you, causing you to flinch as your face hardened and looked away. you hid your bother more than before, not wanting any pain to be dealt to him. "sadly, we'll never know."

that's the exact moment you decided to use what you had been taught before. your eyes shot at the robot, glaring an obvious warning to him.

you both started to raise your arms at the same time, but to your surprise the mandalorian stopped him. "no." he says, which causes the robot to slowly look over towards him. something in the way you both were looking at him, those innocent eyes that held more emotion that you'd personally let off.

he knew that you didn't ask for any of this to happen, and suddenly he was teleported back to his home planet on that one fateful day that would reconstruct his entire life. "we'll bring them in alive." something new began to emerge within his faded heart. he wouldn't realize it then, but it was a sense of urgency to protect. whenever he looked at you, he saw a youthful version of himself.

you and your brother looked back and forth between the two of them in sync, unable to fully comprehend what was occurring in front of you. "the commission was quite specific. the assets were to be terminated." the robot informs the mandalorian, raising his gunned arm once more.

you, too, raised your hand. you were prepared to pass out due to the amount of agony you were going to inflict upon this robot as you were annoyed that he even began to bother you two.

suddenly a shot went off, and you watched closely as the robot's now steaming head collapse into the ground.

even so, you weren't about to let your guard down. you put your hand slightly back, before pushing it forward and sending the mandalorian flying backward into the wall.

he grunted at the impact of the force you were inflicting onto him.  "who are you?!" you shouted at him while hastily standing up and putting your brother within the crib you had crafted yourself.

"— a friend." the masked mandalorian's modulated voice came out as he held onto the neck of his armor tightly, trying to hid himself of the invisible hold you had onto him.

the word 'friend' was not one you were used to hearing. you were accustomed to the painful reality of being without a guardian and as a prisoner.

you let the force you had go as you started to feel dizzy. his body met the harsh ground, and yet another groan come from his mouth underneath his mask.

you began to stumble within your spot next to the crib, holding your head as your vision started to slightly blur. "are you okay, kid?" the mandalorian asked worriedly from beside you. when did he get there?

you succumbed to the intoxicating feeling of slumber, and as you started to fall he was just as quick to catch you as if it was some sort of instinct of his.

he looked anxiously between your passed out figure and your little brother within the homemade crib who was looking at you with unease. he prayed to the maker that you were just exhausted and nothing fatal was bubbling due to your immediate slumber.

that was the first time you ever came into contact with mando, your, now, guardian. you and your brother have become quite fond of him since he has saved you from multiple dangerous encounters with other bounty hunters as well as put in the time and effort to support you through all this time.

he's the brightest star that you looked for every night to appreciate, as whenever it's dark he's always there to slip next to you and make you feel a sense of security you felt with nobody else. you're so incredibly lucky to have him around you — to have him stumble upon you and become such an impactful person in your life.

you knew how heartbroken he felt when you and grogu were taken away by the horrible people who were after knowledge on the background or range of your talents.

you held grogu within your arms as you tried to calm his fussy state down. he didn't understand what was happening and why he wasn't with mando, but sadly you did.

they wanted to use you both for their own sickening purposes, and as footsteps began to inch closer to you. you were prepared to give everything you had into protecting what was rightfully yours: your brother and your life. when the door opened you reacted quick and shoved both stormtroopers against the wall, knocking them out cold.

a darkened look appeared on your face as you realized your worst enemy coming into your caged room. you started to choke the two stormtroopers beside him, as your little brother joined in on the chaos you two were causing and threw around your past enemies.

you both could feel the energy draining out of you at a rapid rate, and at a very last attempt you both hit them with your final push. the choking men you had been focusing on, you threw them backwards and they crashed into the wall outside your enclosed space.

your brother, on the other hand, threw his opponents into one another, making them bash their heads.

"you have gotten very good at that." gideon's horrid voice flooded into your ears as you were breathing heavily. "but it makes you both oh-so sleepy." he stated, bending down to you and your brothers eye level. you weakly glared at him before looking at your brother to was tilting to the side.

you were so proud of him, and knew how exhausting it was to use such power. it caused you to frown at the sight as your brother's chest was rising and falling just as regularly as your own.

"have you ever seen one of these?" gideon questioned you two as a flash of black and white appeared on the side of your face. slowly, your gaze shifted towards it. you squinted your eyes at the level of brightness emitting off of it.

your eyes widened at the sight, as a sickness began to flood into your throat. memories came swarming back into your mind which fogged your vision completely.

you couldn't help but look away from it almost instantly; however, your brother's weakened state tried to use his powers to force it into his hand. "you're not ready to play with such things." gideon stated, standing up. "though, your sister might be." he commented, smirking down at both of your trembling figures. "looks like you both could use a nice, long nap."

you took a deep breath in as a last attempt to fight off the urge to fade into the peaceful darkness, and as you let it go so does your conscious. your body landed next to your brothers, subconsciously wrapping your arm around his own passed out form.

when you woke up from your seemingly endless sleep, you were greeted with the horrifying sight of the black and white sword hovering in front of you. your brother cooed at you, and your eyes darted to analyze his state. he was fine, besides the handcuffs that were restraining both your hands.

the door opened, and mando, your savior, walked in. your eyes brightened at the sight of him, thanking the maker that he came after you and your little brother, grogu. "mando!" you smiled widened as you instinctively sit up to rush towards him, but the weapon inched closer to your neck.

the glare gideon sent you and intense heat that soaked into your neck made you gulp down harshly, slowly laying your back against the wall once more.

mando, without saying a word, continued to close the distance between you all. his blaster in his grasp, pointed at gideon alone. "drop the blaster." gideon demanded. mando paused in his tracks, digesting his situation carefully.

he knew that he had to get you two out without any casualties on your end, but he wasn't sure as to how just yet. "slowly." mando did as he was ushered. "now, kick it over to me." the sound of the blaster sliding against the floor made you cringe. "very nice."

"give me the kids." mando orders him while gesturing over to the both of you. you already felt a sense of safety within his presence.

you trusted mando more than enough to know that he wouldn't ever let anything bad be brought upon you now that you're within his care, and because of that you were finally able to breathe normally again.

"they are just fine where they're at." gideon rejected mando's suggestion. gideon went on about the history of the sword which you tuned out due to the fact that your sight was held tightly on mando.

you're eyes began to water, all you wanted more than anything was to be back in the razor crest and drinking soup with your two other halves in sync. "you keep it. i just want the kids." mando told him simply, all he truly wanted — and needed, was you two.

you're chest lightened at those words, surely gideon wouldn't be so foolish to refuse such an offer.

"very well." gideon's sword slowly retracting itself from existence. you let the air that had been building up within your chest out, as huge relief came pouring out of you. "i already for what i wanted from them." he told him, "their blood. all i wanted was to study their blood." he clarified, even though it wasn't really necessary. "these children are extremely gifted... and have been blessed with rare properties that have the potential to bring order back to the galaxy."

mando's eyes were glued onto you and grogu, not giving a single thought to whatever gideon was telling him. your safety still wasn't guaranteed, so he wasn't letting his guard down. "i see your bond with them." gideon commented, that was the sentence that made him look over to gideon. "take them," mando, without a second thought, began to take a step closer to you two, "—but you will leave my ship immediately and we will go our separate ways."

"they mean more to me than you will ever know." mando replied to him; however, all he was truly focused on was the two of you.

your heart swelled up with thankfulness, and admiration for the mandalorian who had taken you under his wing.

it seemed to shock gideon as he walked past him, you jumped up from your seat and rushed into his arms. "mando!" you cried out, pressing your cheek against his cold metal gear.

"hi —" you could almost hear the soft smile underneath his mask due to his gentle tone he used with you; however, he suddenly grunted as gideon had began to rapidly hit him with the sword.

mando blocked you from any chance of impact against you with his hardened armor until he was able to push you away from him in order to protect you against the enemy's attack.

your cries of horror only continued as mando and gideon continued to fight their way out of the room. you knew you needed to help mando, after everything he's ever done you owed him more than you could ever imagine.

you're heart raced as sounds of bashing weapons, and clashing of metals filled the entirety of your senses. mumbles of curses which you heard mando use flowed out of your mouth naturally.

you began to bash your handcuffs against the wall, each strike getting stronger as adrenaline pumped through you until they fell off of your wrists. "i'll be back grogu!" you promised him, before rushing your way out into the hallway. your eyes were as wide as coins as you saw mando losing in his battle with gideon. "get away from him!" you yelled at gideon before lifting both your hands towards him.

"no!" mando shouted, but that was before you had begun to choke out gideon all yourself. the intense fury that flowed through your veins into the pressure you were using against the well-being of gideon.

you're face hardened as the sounds of gideon losing air began to resonate like beautiful symphonies to you. "hey, kid, that's enough — let go of him!" mando's scared voice was the only one that would bring you out of this kind of repulsive state.

you finally took in gideon's paled face, and succumbed to mando's wishes. you released him, and his body crashed against the ground.

mando looked between you and gideon, confused as to what he had just witnessed. he's never seen you so worked up before, nor with such a murderous intent. you hadn't ever killed a person before — at least, not to his knowledge. here you were, all of a sudden, certainly trying your best to make gideon suffer immensely.

the pause was deathly, and it gave you some time to recollect your thoughts on as to the severity you had gone in order to protect mando from harm, that alone caused your eyes to be consumed with horror.

"go get your brother." mando's voice sounded shockingly normal with a tint of initial shock, as he bent down to gideon. you bobbed your head up and down, and immediately did as told.

the both of you were silent as the mission continued on. you didn't have anything to say to him besides an apology and that you didn't know where your head went within that moment. he reassured you that it was okay, and he understood how you were feeling but to not tread cross those lines again.

you sat in a chair with your brother on your lap, looking off into the distance as you repeated that moment with gideon in your head at least a thousand times. you analyzed everything down to the tiniest detail: how you felt, how IT felt, how it started, how it ended.

though, all of that faded as you sense a familiar aura behind you. you turned the chair slightly around to allow you and your brother to peak over to the figure from it, and your eyes widened as you noticed who it was. "are you a jedi?" mando questioned, his body hovering in front of the chair in which you both sat at. he was subconsciously protecting you as if it had become an immediate instinct.

"i am." he answers, before his gaze fell onto you both. he gestures his hand out to you, "come, little ones." your body teases, unsure as to what he was asking from you. mando's mask quickly turned towards you two, and you and your brother shot him your attention as well. your eyes spoke volumes within mando's mind.

his masked face turned back towards the supposed jedi standing before him, trying to take his entire purpose that was bestowed upon him away. "they don't want to go with you." mando informed him.

"they want your permission." the jedi stated, and that alone hit mando's inner thoughts hard. he didn't want to say goodbye — he wasn't prepared to.

he spent this entire time working to get to this point, and now that he's finally here it has easily became his worst fear. you, his funny little girl who'd light up a room with a simple smile, was now slipping through his fingers and there was nothing he could do to prevent it from happening. "they are strong with the force, but talent without training is nothing."

you and your bothers eyes punctuate from both men. how could you possibly cope with leaving someone who has become your entire home? "i will give my life to protect these children... but they will not be safe until they master their abilities."

mando seemed to be conflicted as he turned to you both. you stood up teary-eyed and not ready to ever say goodbye to someone who had been the first to give you the moon and more as you handed him grogu.

he wrapped his hand around your shoulder, the kind of gesture that always made you feel as if he was more than just a simple guardian to you. he nudged you both closer to the jedi. "hey, go on." he softly spoke as if he was unsure himself. you shot him a panicked glance, you didn't want this to be the end of your travels with the mandalorian. "that's who you belong with. he's one of your kind."

you looked up at his metal helmet with the most fear in your eyes. you couldn't swallow this lost down — you'd never want to leave his side, but your future depended on it. "i'll see you again." he promised you, placing his hand which was on your shoulder on top of your head and ruffling your hair quite a bit to cause a ragged look.

grogu reached his hand out to mando's mask, and for the first time he slowly revealed his face to the both of you.

his eyes were just as tearful as yours, which made you feel some comfort that you weren't the only one who hated the idea of being separated from the other.

you and grogu took in his features, most likely because it would be one of the last times you'll see it. grogu carressed mando's slightly breaded face, causing mando's lips to track upward a tad.

you held wrapped your hand tightly around mando's waist. goodbye is something you should've ever have to say to him, and your heart couldn't handle it to say the very least. "all right, pals." his voice — his true voice soaked into your mind. "it's time to go." he mentally reminds himself to not get too carried away by his increasing melancholy.

grogu whines at the sense that fell from his mouth, and you flinch due to the uncertainty of ever seeing him again. yes, he promised; but, what if something happens and he's not there?

your bottom lip begins to tremble as the impact of the realness of the moment changes everything for you. "don't be afraid." he tells you both, stroking your back with the hand that wasn't carrying grogu.

all three of you pause as you all try to take in this moment as if it was the last. after, he puts grogu down on the ground and unlatched you from his figure, and an instant after that you both were connecting yourself against him. grogu was at his foot, looking up at him with his eyes almost as if he was asking to be picked up once more. you were at his side, holding onto his arm for dear life.

it gave mando the smallest bit of hope back that you two weren't going to allow for such a separation between you two to happen.

suddenly, a robot which you knew pretty well rolled into the room. it caught both you, and your brothers attention. you both walked over to it and allowed yourself to childishly be engulfed within the excitement.

your laughter, which the mandalorian hadn't heard in quite some time, filled his heart with an abundance amount of warmth and unknowingly to the both of you, the jedi and mando both gave one another a nod.

the jedi picked up grogu, which caused you to quickly turn towards him and then mando. the reality of the situation settling in your chest once again, causing all of a sudden an intense battle between your future and what your heart is telling you.

you stood up, twisting your glance from the jedi and mando. the jedi looked down to you, and placed his hand onto your shoulder in order to offer you some support.

you tried to speak, to voice what your heart was screaming at you to say... but nothing ended up coming out. you looked down to the floor as your face fell into a deep blue. "may the force be with you." the jedi bid mando goodbye, before his hand slid from your shoulder to your back.

he herded you back through the door, and you couldn't help yourself but to glance back at mando's distraught expression once more.

you tried to turn your body towards him once more, but the jedi's grasp on you unable you for such movement. you lifted your hand out to him slightly, wanting to return to his side more than anything.

the attachment between all three of you could be seen, even with the amount of distance you had taken.

there was a single moment where you were finally confident enough to voice your protest and reject training in order to return to mando's side.

you set your sight onto the jedi once more and opened your mouth to speak, but the door enclosed you from mando. you closed your mouth and looked back to the ground, feeling as if a part of you was missing.

next part to ‘bitterness behind goodbyes’ short series.

#din djarin #din dijarin fanfiction #din x y/n #daddy’s babygirl #daddy issues #the mandaloria/reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorion spoilers #din x reader #din dijarin x reader #the mandolorian season 2 #x platonic!reader #fanfic #ao3 writer #wattpad

[handsonurknees]

last kiss

din djarin x gn!reader

a/n: just a little preface, i am not a star wars expert i literally watched mando because of pedro and that’s it (don’t kill me) but sorry if anything is inaccurate! also thank you for all of the love on my first post!

(i did not proofread this so i’m sorry if there’s any mistakes)

warnings: mentions of graphic injuries, angst, hurt/no comfort because i’m evil, main character death (yikes)

wc: 1.8k

“let’s go!” you hear cara yell at you, her voice hoarse from shouting over shots and the fire burning just some feet away. your eyes flickered from her and your friends to the injured mandolorian sat against the flipped booth. when she realized what you were thinking, even more panic creeped into her face. “no, no. you can’t. he’ll be okay. we need to go!” she pleads, but your eyes never leave the beskar-clad man. you hear him grunt through the voice modulator and you flinch. you can’t leave him, he can’t die not knowing how you feel.

“she’s right. go, i’ll be alright.” he offers, unconvincingly. you feel tears well up behind your eyes, fighting them back before turning back to the group.

“go. you all go and both of us will catch up. IG, give me the bacta spray, i can do this. i used to be a trained medic.” cara sighs at your attempt at a deal, but clearly worried about running out of time, she turns to the droid beside her.

“do you think the two of them can make it out alive?” she questions.

“more likely than not.” is all the bot says in response. the droid removes a vile from its arm and tosses it to you. “though i should be the one staying, i’m sure she would stay as well anyways. i can confirm her medical history., he is in good hands.” sweat pours down your back due to the warmth of the fire as cara looks at you and the mandolorian, and she realizes deep down she won’t be able to change your mind. you almost think you see a glisten in her eye and a small smile directed at you, but that’s just before she turns around and crawls through the grate as fast as possible, the child in her arms. she won’t say goodbye because this isn’t goodbye. she’ll see the two of you again in only a matter of minutes. you quickly turn to mando, hovering with worry over him.

“i didn’t know you were a medic.” he drowsily says, the effects of his injuries settling in as you begin to move with more haste.

“yes mando. you forget i had a life before i met you.” you respond, swallowing quickly as you uncap the spray. he laughs, and you smile. it’s been a while since you’ve heard him laugh, and even longer since it’s been you who made him laugh. “stay with me, alright? talk to me.” you say like routine, all of your knowledge flooding back to you from when you first learned how to deal with a patient drifting in-and-out of consciousness.

“why did you stay? i told you to go.” he asks genuinely. “i was fine here, peaceful. i’ve always thought that if i were to die i would want to die a warrior’s death.” he continues, voice wavering occasionally. your heart lurches at the idea of him knowing the really reason why you stayed. once the mist is all set up, you look at him, searching for his eyes under his visor.

“you are not dying tonight, mando. that’s why i stayed” you respond, and while it’s not technically a lie, you still feel guilty. that’s when your breath suddenly stops, realizing what you have to do next.

“w-whats wrong?” he questions your hesitation. when you look down at the bacta spray and don’t meet his eyes again, the air shifts in a way that sends shivers down your spine, even while the sweltering heat just feet away from you tickles your face.

“i have to do it to save you.” you whisper, still looking at the spray. “you won’t live much longer if we don’t do it now.” your voice getting hung up on the last word. you both know this is the last chance. part of you screams internally, baffled by how he’s even considering the possibility of not getting the spray. that part burns with white, hot, boiling rage, wondering if you were just going to give up, why did i stay for you? you don’t even ask me to stay and i did. how can you make me watch you die? but before you are able to voice any of this aloud, a gloved hand meets yours and shakily leading you the side of his helmet. “are you sure?” you ask a final time. even though every bone in your body aches to rip that helmet off the second the metal touches your fingers.

“don’t make me s-second guess myself.” he answers dryly. you just nod and carefully remove the helmet with a gentle hiss. slowly revealing the features you’ve been trying to piece together in your brain for months. in the amber glow of the room, you wish to memorize his eyes and his nose and his lips and his cheeks. but instead of studying every ridge and line in his face like you’ve always dreamed of doing, you imagine his face as one you’ve seen one million times. you don’t even flinch when big brown eyes meet yours. as soon as the helmet is off, your hands work quickly. you quickly lift the spray to his head and administer it. a breath escapes you that you hadn’t even know you were holding in. he’s okay. he’s okay is all you can think, the feeling overwhelming you so much that you don’t hear the heavy footfalls behind you, or mando’s failed attempts to shove you out of the way and shouts of ‘get down!’

‘he’s okay’ is all you can think, even when you’re shot by a stormtrooper who wasn’t killed in the shootout. luckily, by you crouched in front of the mandolorian, you blocked him from the view of the trooper. mando instinctively grabbed his blaster and shot a perfect hit into the the gap of the trooper’s armor between his neck and his head. the trooper falls limply to the ground, but all you can focus on is the pain radiating from the new hole in your back. your ears ring and something in you calls out. something that made you suddenly understand what mando meant about being peaceful with dying a warrior’s death. in a strange moment, the two of you are transported back to only moments before, but this time, with the roles reversed.

“dank farrik!” he curses, searching your eyes, his eyebrows furrowed together tightly. your knees feel weak, giving out in your current squat above the armored man. you fall flush against his chest, eliciting a hoarse cough. your hands press firmly into his chest, pushing yourself up to look him in the eyes. in any other situation, your mind would be completely foggy due to the proximity between you two, but somehow what you want to say is completely clear. he swallows, holding a firm hand over your wound, frantically looking around the room, despite knowing it’s far too late.

“you know, this is not how i expected this to end.” you joke weakly, woozy from the pain. the mandolorian pants, his face drowning in concern at your state. you set a hand on his face, his scruff scratching your palm pleasantly. “it’s alright. this way-“ you wince “you won’t have broken your creed. no living thing will have seen you.” you chuckle, which turns into a cough, followed by the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. he just sits speechless, words failing him. there’s so much he wishes he could say, but shock keeps his mouth shut. you feel the familiar feeling of tears for the umpteenth time that day. your thumb grazes his cheekbone, and he just watches as you fight this losing battle. sadness swells in his heart, a hurt that hasn’t hit him in years. for a person, that is. “i love you.” and you’re unsure if it’s the adrenaline or if it’s your sort of last words, but he snaps back into reality and brings his focus back to you.

“what?” he attempts to confirm, even though he heard you the first time.

“please don’t. i just-“ your tears fall down your face numbly, in steady streams. “i just need you to know that i love you. before i die. i need you to know the real reason i couldn’t leave you behind.” your words stumble out of your mouth quickly, but you know if you don’t say them now, you’ll never have the chance to. his leather covered hands move to hold on to both sides of your face, and he starts to quietly laugh. “what?” you ask, confused.

“i cannot believe that you are telling me this now. this was not supposed to go this way. everything was supposed to be different-“ he continues to dryly laugh “you weren’t supposed to die before i could even-“ he’s cut off by the startling reminder that the room around you that was once just taken up by the warmth of fire feet and feet away from you, is now engulfed in flames. smoke finally begins to fill both of your lungs and the ashes make mando’s eyes water (or at least that’s what he tells himself it is.)

“go. go now. please go find them.” he feels a weight on his shoulders, pulling him into the ground beneath him, holding him in place. he can’t leave you. you stayed for him, he has to stay for you. but his eyes flicker to the grate and how the fire is getting increasingly close to blocking his path. he knows your right, he knows he should go. “it’s okay. it’s okay.” you assure him “just don’t forget me, okay?” and he has to stop himself from guffawing. how in the world could he forget about you? he just breathes shakily, grabbing his helmet.

“i have thought of you every second while we were together, and i will think about you every second we are apart.” he admits with a sort of finality that scorches you. this is the end. in a desperate burst of energy, you slam your lips into his, reveling in every last second. you want to die with his lips being the last thing you feel. not the pain of your wound, not the pain of him leaving, just him. he kisses you back clumsily, making it obvious to you that this is his first kiss. selfishly, you hold on for just a moment longer, then letting him go, letting your hand trace his face one for time before he gets up.

“and for what it’s worth, i love you too.” he says, turning away in a way that shatters your heart. still, even while the live of your life leaves you in the flames, even while your back lets out one final wave of pain, even while taking your last breath, all you can think is;

he’s okay.

#the mandalorian #the mandolorian x reader #mando x reader #din djarin x reader #fanfic #mandolorian fanfic #mando fanfiction #din dijarin fanfiction #the mandolorian x you #din djarin #mando x you #mando #the mandalorion spoilers #the mandolorian season 1 #star wars #star wars x reader #grogu #cara dune

[livingemkayde]

Twin Moons - Chapter Five: The Silence

Series Summary: 

when you meet a Mandalorian on the sands of Tatooine, for some reason you both can't stay away. even through all the pain—you keep coming back to each other. it's all you know how to do.

Chapter Five: The Silence

Notes: Someone please tell me how this chapter is almost six thousand fucking words long. I got so carried away. If you guys like longer chapters, let me know but I think I'm going to start making them longer anyways. Notes are HIGHLY appreciated. As always, please enjoy. 

Side note: Idk if you guys picked up on this, but the reader has very light pupils, almost completely white eyes aside from some shading in irises–it is touched on more in this chapter. 

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive f!reader

Series warnings: *Although this chapter may not contain graphic content, this story is rated 18+ due to graphic depictions of violence and sexual scenarios.*

Chapter warnings: Mentions of the empire, the dark side, and the force, angst. Brief mentions of abuse and Stockholm syndrome. Mutual pining and very strong feelings from the reader. Mando having a potty mouth. Hints at sexual scenes/thoughts. Jealousy and reader’s self hatred. 

Summary: He’s officially going to drive you crazy. The Mandalorian in front of you is going to drive you insane. He might kill you. You could die by a thousand touches and suggestive words with hidden meanings. 

Masterlist Chapter Four Chapter Three

One. 

You work with Grogu more the following afternoon. When you exit the Mandalorians hut after nap time has begun, you look for him on the small porch but instead see his shining head across the way with Omera. 

You scowl to yourself, and quickly brush it off as you make your way over. Your eyes feel slightly puffy from the tears shed through the night. You had not gotten much sleep. Winta’s innocent words crept into the back of your mind each time you closed your eyes. She questioned her people’s safety from you. A child, not unlike the one you were working with—asking if you would ever hurt her. The thought feels like it stabs your heart. 

You’re sad. Honestly. Like really fucking sad. About everything. About leaving him and his kid in a couple days. About Davin. About Omera. About everything. It burns through your chest with a certain bite that leaves you feeling empty. You don’t know why. Or why you’re scared to approach them. Or why you feel such a strong connection to a man you just met. 

“Hey, uh—” you say as you approach the pair. Omera laughs at something the Mandalorian says and her hand brushes his bicep again. At your entrance, her hand drops and the couple goes silent. “Sorry I hope I'm not interrupting. Grogu is down for a nap. Just wanted to let you know.” 

You exit quickly, only hearing a small ‘thank you’ from the Mandalorian as you walk away towards the woods. 

The Mandalorians gaze sears into the back of your head as you exit.  

You continue exploring through the small pathway—ducking under some branches and slipping through bushes to a clearing. In the middle, a large tree with a wide trunk. You circle the tree a few times before looking down towards the ground. The sunlight is shining on the top of your head. You can feel the heat of it warming your hair. 

While you look to the ground, absentmindedly counting your steps and noting the small flowers there, you pick up a fallen branch, long and sturdy enough to be a weapon, maybe a staff—a spear. 

You hold the branch in your hands. Test the weight of it in your palms and twirl it through your hands and around your body. Maybe in another life it could’ve been kyber. 

You begin hitting the tree, simulating some form of combat. You were restless after so much time on this boring planet. It was the most time you had ever spent in one place in years. 

As you spin to hit the trunk higher, much like smashing the head of an opponent, you hear a twig snap behind you. You suddenly find it hard to breathe. 

“Mandalorian.” You huff while continuing your silly practice, not looking back to meet his gaze. You shouldn’t be mad at him. But you are, unexplainably. 

Din notices you are elegant with your strikes. You move in a way he has never seen before, much less experienced in combat. Even in the cantina, you bested him with your quick skills and surprising strength. 

You hear him walk toward you, but for some reason, your body fails to turn. 

“Saki.” 

You turn at the nickname, it feels foreign on his lips. 

You are slightly breathless, from the combat practice or your name echoing through modulation, you do not know. His voice trails through the small clearing and it makes your ears ring. 

“What are you doing?” He asks when you don't respond. 

“I'm bored. This place is…boring. I don't want to take care of kids all day and farm krill.” You smack the branch against the tree trunk once more. You remember last night, Omera, Winta and her words that cut your skin like daggers. 

The branch snaps in half. 

You toss the two halves to the ground and fully turn to face him. He's standing a couple feet away. 

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere else?” You reply—passive-aggressive tones in your voice. Last night hurt. Seeing him with Omera hurt. The fact that he didn’t follow you hurt. 

Not that he owes you anything. You were becoming attached to someone who was obviously unavailable—it was all in your head. 

But the way he listened to your stories, taking in all the information that makes you, you. You couldn’t help but fall, even if he wasn’t there to catch you. But that’s not his problem—it's yours. 

A few moments pass, you note his hand twitching like he's contemplating his words carefully. The orange tips of his pointer and thumb scrape past each other in their wake. 

“Alright. C’mon. Let's go.” He turns on his heels and begins to walk away from you. 

“What? I–hey wait up.” You call after him as you follow his figure. 

_ 

“Ready? On ‘go’ okay? Three–” you get into your stance, “–two–” you hold your palms out, ready to strike first, “–one–” you grab his wrist, twisting his arm and striking at the crease of his elbow. 

You snake your ankle around his and pull your leg back, so he stumbles and kneels on the ground before you. 

“I said on ‘go.’” He grunts while sliding to grab the back of your thigh and shoulder to flip you and bring you down to the ground. You slip out of the trap easily, scrambling to stand and begin to engage in hand to hand combat with him. 

“I know. Just–” you strike the side of his stomach with your foot and he grunts “–making sure you were ready.” 

You elbow his collar and he grunts again. “You weren't.” You chuckle quietly. 

It's easy–fun even. Something to stimulate your brain. Something entertaining for you, he had said. You appreciate his efforts, he explains he used to spar with other Mandalorians when he was a child. You know he can understand your restlessness on this planet. 

He showed you to a small field near the village and explained he and Grogu spent time out here when you weren’t preparing him. The grass in this area was soft. It was unlike the hard soil of the forest, and the dirt ridden roads near the huts. 

His hands tangle with yours. You can feel him everywhere. Your hips, your waist, back, shoulders. You are using small amounts of strength—sparring strength, but you relish the feeling of his hands on your body. 

“You're a cheater.” He grunts as you block his strike. 

“Didn't know you cared much about rules.” You spin and switch positions with him, moving throughout the open field near the village, sun looking down on you. 

You giggle through the innocent game—each time his move fails and he becomes more frustrated. 

You go to kick his side again as he opens his stance to strike, but he predicts your movements, grabs you by the crease of your knee and hauls you to the ground. He straddles your hips with his thighs. Mimicking his actions when you first arrived at Sorgan. 

You settle on the ground below him, looking up at the sky. You can see the trees peeking into your upside down vision. You fill your chest with air and release it slowly, savoring this moment. The sky is a shade of blue unfamiliar to your worn eyes. The Mandalorian sitting in the middle of the expanse, looking like a painting. He is art. His armor is beautiful. A true show of craftsmanship. You wonder who forged it for him.

“You like this position huh.” You tease with breathless laughter––having given up on the sparring. 

“Maybe I do. You're prettier when you're not smashing plates on my head.” 

Your eyes widen. 

“What?” You ask. 

“The cantina. Remember?” He notes. 

“Yeah. I remember. What you said before that.” 

“What, that I like this position? Don't get too cocky. I just like it when you can't hurt me.” He teases with a light tone. 

“You called me pretty.” You say, meeting his eyes. 

“Did I? Don't recall…do you yield?” 

“Don't try to change the subject. You called me pretty.” 

“I didn't.” 

“You just did.” 

“No. I didn't.” 

“It's okay.” You can't help a smile that comes to your face. “If you think I'm pretty it's okay.” 

“Why do you want me to think you're pretty?” 

“I just want you to admit you said it.” 

“So you want me to think you're pretty.” 

“No, I just want you to admit that it happened.” 

A few moments pass. You feel a sudden tension between you. Maybe you had taken your joking too far. You worry in this position, that he might actually hurt you. Your breaths become slightly erratic, but you try to steady them—bringing air in through your nose. 

“Maybe it did.” Your eyebrows furrow at his words. “Happen.” He clarifies. “Then what?” He says softer this time. You can tell the playful intentions of this stupid conversation have gone. 

You can’t bring yourself to respond. Is he calling you pretty? Or is he just admitting that it happened? The Mandalorian is running laps around your head and you feel dizzy from his incessant games you can’t bring yourself to stop playing. You think back to Omera. The way they stood together during dinner. His hands on her body. It was silly. If you really think about it. Silly that he would feel the same way when you’ve only known each other a few days—after you tried to kill him—after everything you’ve done. 

But you feel like you have known him forever. And you would choose to—given the chance. 

When you say nothing but look up towards the sky, his hand moves from resting on his thigh to your bicep. Your eyes shoot back to the black T in front of you. Your lips part and although your eyebrows haven’t unfurrowed, they soften slightly. All your features do. 

He acts before you can speak. Trailing his hand down your arm, to your open palm on the ground. When he reaches your fingers, he turns your hand in his, and snakes his fingers through yours. 

You watch the whole time, the feeling strange in your palms, your gloves abandoned in the hut with Grogu. 

He runs his thumb over the back of your hand, the both of you staring at your joined limbs, silence surrounding you. Even though you are separated by his glove, you feel his warmth spread like fire throughout your body. He holds your hand with some strength, enough to make you feel secure without forcing your joints. 

Although your mind should be racing—racing with thoughts about a certain beautiful widow, a sleeping green child, and the Mandalorian in front of you. You can only stare back, entranced by his actions. 

You feel his other arm moving, his hand coming to rest on your hip bone, his thumb rubbing softly at the exposed flesh there. You close your eyes at the feeling. 

“Look at me.” He says, you open your eyes. 

Suddenly, the feeling has changed in the air between you. 

“Is this okay?” He asks. 

Even though you aren't sure what he means by this you nod your head anyways. 

He runs his fingers higher up your stomach, gloved hand pushing back fabric as you shiver under his touch. 

“I–” you start, but a small ring pulls you both out of your trance. The Mandalorian suddenly drops your hand, pushes himself off you and turns to look toward the sound. 

The dinner bell. 

Fuck.

_

Two.  

When you finish with Grogu the following day, you decide to rest on the ground next to his pram. You’re tired from working with him. You should be practicing your meditation since you are reaching out to him through the force for long periods of time—but you don’t. 

You settle on the ground next to his bassinet, back pressed against the side of the Mandalorians bed.

The preparations have been progressing, Grogu is doing well. You peer over your shoulder towards the sleeping child and sigh. He should be ready with one more session tomorrow. He has to be ready—you’re leaving. 

The Mandalorian doesn’t inquire much about Grogu’s preparations anymore, you hope it’s a sign of trust, of good faith. But then again, he doesn’t have much choice. 

When you finally begin to shut your eyes, your head slouching to the side, the curtains open and let in the sunset from outside. A tall figure stands as a shadow in the doorframe. The Mandalorian. 

“Hi.” You say while opening your eyes slightly with a smile. 

“Bedtime? For both of you?” He asks while chuckling slightly and walking into the room, letting the curtains shut behind him. 

“Mhm.” You say lazily while squinting one eye and letting your head fall to the other side. 

“Come on, rest on the bed.” He stands in front of you now, your eyes open at his request and you look up at him. 

“No, no it's okay. I’ll just go back to my hut.” You say while standing slowly. 

“C’mon, just stay here. You’re already falling asleep.” He pushes a fallen piece of hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek bone. Your bruises had been healing slowly, but you still had some cuts on your face from Davin’s rings. You can feel the Mandalorians fingers tracing over the scabs on your cheek. 

Your eyes widen—you want to cry. But you don’t fight him, or push him away.

When you stand motionless, while looking into his visor, he places his hands on your hips and begins to turn your body while leading you to the bed with gentle pushes on your lower back. 

You abandon your plan of returning to your hut, but you’re so aware of his hands on your body, you no longer feel tired.

“Okay.” You say plainly, and settle on his bed on top of his blanket. You lay on your back, one hand resting on your stomach, the one closer to him laid flat on the bed. 

He turns to leave you—maybe it’s your sudden boldness from yesterday in the field, or the lingering feeling of his hands on your waist, but you speak without thinking. 

“Will you stay?” You ask, and he freezes in his stride. He pauses for a few seconds, you’re afraid he’ll reject you, or leave without saying anything. But he turns his head to the side, to indicate he heard you. 

“You want me to tuck you in?” He turns, and you swear you can hear a smirk drift across his face. He stalks back towards your figure on his bed. 

“You’d like that. I’m just bored.” 

“I thought you were tired.” 

“Someone’s shiny head woke me up.” 

He sits on the bed next to your body. His back is to you, but he turns his head so he can look down at your face. You scoot over some, to make room for his figure but he remains sitting on the side of the bed. 

You close your eyes, satisfied with his presence, but you can feel him shifting beside you. 

“Lay down.” You say softly, while opening your eyes to his visor, scooting over more to make room for his large figure. 

He says nothing but swings his legs and begins to lay beside you. His bed is large, big enough that you can lay side by side without touching, a few inches of space between you. 

“I don’t think I've ever seen you sleep.” You note while staring up at the ceiling. 

“I don't much. Probably a habit from traveling so much.” He replies beside you. 

“You should sleep more.” 

“You should too.”

You chuckle. 

You want to bring up the field, Omera, his touches, but you don’t—leaving it unsaid in the air between you. 

“Can you tell me about your creed?” 

Din freezes. He didn’t know people were interested in his creed besides when asking why he can’t take the helmet off.  

“I knew a Mandalorian. But he showed his face.” You continue when he doesn’t respond. He notes how you inquire curiously, but never question his faith.

“The Mandalorians saved me from a droid attack on my home planet. I was a foundling. Raised in the fighting corps. The creed means I can never show my face to another living being. This is The Way.” 

You stare at the ceiling, taking in all the information. You have never heard of this creed—even after studying with the jedi on Coruscant. 

“No one? For your whole life?” 

“This is The Way.” He repeats the strange words once again in response. 

“Not even your kid?” You ask, referencing Grogu. 

“He is a foundling. If I were to adopt him, or raise a child—I would be able to show my face to my family.”

“Family. Like….your wife?”

“If I were to take a wife I would be able to show her my face, yes.” 

“Mm.” You note, without much to follow. You hesitate in your questioning—unsure of his comfort answering questions regarding his creed. 

“Have you ever wanted to?” 

“Wanted to do what? Show my face?” He asks. 

You respond simply with a small “Yeah.” 

You feel his helmet look toward you, and you can’t help but bring your head to meet his. Looking for his eyes behind the small visor in front of you. You feel his hand moving beside you, his pinky finger reaching out to brush against yours. It disappears just as quickly, and your breath hitches in your chest. 

“Yes.” 

He’s officially going to drive you crazy. The Mandalorian in front of you is going to drive you insane. He might kill you. You could die by a thousand touches and suggestive words with hidden meanings. You turn to look away from him, a blush creeping up your neck. 

“How many planets have you been to?” You ask, trying to change the subject after your words fail you to continue the conversation. 

“More than I can count.” He says with a sigh. 

“What’s your favorite one?” You respond curiously. 

“I don’t really have one.” He says. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. What’s yours?” 

“I like it here. But I liked Endor too.” 

“You like green.” He notes. And you nod, smiling.

“I don’t see many nice planets.” He continues. “I work bounties out of Nevarro.” 

“Nevarro? I’ve been there.” 

You remember the lava flats and molten ground you walked on. You blush when you realize the two of you might have crossed paths more than you know. Your head turns to him again. 

“I can tell you that Tatooine is my least favorite one.” He says while meeting your gaze, you lock eyes. You smile at his words. The last time both of you were on Tatooine, you were about to kill him. 

“I don’t like sand.” You note. 

“I don’t either.” He says softly. 

“Hurts my eyes.” You say while turning your head to look back at the ceiling. A few moments pass. 

“You can ask.” You say while chuckling. 

“What happened?” His helmet is still turned towards your face. 

“Punishment from Davin. I was supposed to bring back someone alive–I came back with their head in my hands.” You close your eyes. 

“He dropped me off on some planet that had toxic chemicals in the air. It bleached my pupils–that’s why they're white. Bright things hurt my eyes. And shiny things.” You say playfully, while elbowing his arm, trying to lighten the mood. You don’t think it worked when he remains looking at you, motionless. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispers. 

“It’s not your fault.” You reply, although you aren’t sure if he’s apologizing for your punishment or his armor. You look back at him, the two of you gazing at each other. 

You feel his arm moving beside you. He grabs your hand, intertwines your fingers, and lays them to rest between your bodies. His thumb rubs your hand again, mimicking his actions yesterday. You smile as you look down to your hands and back up to his visor. You find his eyes immediately–and even though you can’t see him, Din smiles back. 

Din sees the gray of his beskar washing over your eyes once again. You’re beautiful. Funny, smart, witty. When your eyes meet his, he feels like maybe you match him perfectly. Maybe when he asks you to stay with him, you’ll listen. But then again, maybe he doesn’t belong with anyone. He definitely doesn’t belong here. 

You wonder if you’re meeting his gaze beneath the mask. What his hair looks like. The color of his skin, the curve of his cheek. His eyebrows. Does he have facial hair? Is he even human under the helmet? 

A breeze pushes the curtains back and some sunlight spears through the hut, hitting your eyes. It hurts, but you don’t move. You wonder what he thinks of your eyes, maybe if they were normal you could see him better. Maybe if they had color they would absorb his gray and not reflect it. 

What color are his?

You don’t talk after that. You don’t think about Omera once. 

You don’t know how long you stay frozen under his gaze—your eyes drift closed as the sun sets behind the curtains. 

_

Three. 

When you wake up in the Mandalorians hut, your eyes shift from sleepy and half shut to wide and alert. You lay next to him. Your form curled to his side while he lay on his back. He has one arm under your neck, his vambraces removed and set on the ground. One of your hands rest on his chest plate.

You stare at the side of his helmet, with wide eyes. His chest rises and falls gently with soft snores from under his helmet. Fuck. 

You remember last night. Sinking into the mattress beside him. Rolling over in your sleep and knocking into his side, his arm lifting up and coming to wrap around your body. His thumb and the way it rubbed the small patch of skin peaking out from under the hem of your top. Kriff. This is bad. This is getting too complicated. His small Yes was seared into the back of your mind, and you can’t help but think he might’ve actually been talking about you. 

You stare at the side of his helmet once more. He could be awake, you wonder. He could be holding you because he means it, or he could be sleeping and none the wiser to his actions. You close your eyes and your heart beats more erratically through your chest. You worry its pounding would be strong enough to wake him. 

You need to leave. 

You remove your hand from his chest plate and carefully sit up, trying not to move the bed too much. You slink out of his arms and out of the bed. The kid sleeps soundly in the pram at the head of it.

You step out of the hut and the morning dew hits your face. The sun is rising over the trees, you guess it's early in the morning. You note which direction your ship is for your travel out of the village later today. 

You move towards the dining hut, your stomach growling from having skipped dinner after working with Grogu in the evening. Your cheeks flush as you remember the Mandalorians hands wrapping around your waist, touching your cheek. 

You open the curtains to the dining area, your heart drops as you see a figure with their back turned towards the entrance, preparing some food for breakfast. 

Omera. 

“Oh. Hi.” You say dumbly. 

“Saki. Hello.” She turns to greet you with a smile. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to barge in. I skipped dinner last night.” 

“It’s no problem. There’s some fruits and bread over here to hold you over until breakfast.” She points with the wooden spoon in her hand to the table across from her. 

“Thank you.” You slink over to the table, trying not to meet her eye. When you steal a glance at her, she is looking back at you. Your cheeks heat and you quickly drop her gaze and place your attention to the food in front of you. 

“How is Grogu doing?” She asks innocently. “He’s doing well. Progressing well. He won’t need me soon.” You reply, picking the best smelling fruits in front of you before you make your exit. 

“That’s good to hear.” She replies plainly with a sharp smile on her face. “And Mando?” She adds. 

“Um, good. They’re both good.” You reply—scared of her intentions regarding asking about the Mandalorian. 

“You two have grown close these past few days.” She doesn’t meet your gaze. 

“Yeah, the kid is special.” 

“I wasn’t talking about the kid.” She stops mixing, her hands resting on the table in front of her, looking at you with knowing eyes and a small smile. 

“What?” You almost drop the fruits in your hand. 

“Mando.” She replies simply. Although you note how she doesn’t look mad, you can’t bring yourself to meet her eye. Suddenly, all the touches and words feel dirty in your mind. You saw them together. How they looked at each other—and yet, you didn’t stop him through all his actions. You chastise yourself. How could any of that be real when this woman stands beautiful in front of you?

“Omera. I—I'm sorry.” You don’t really know what else to say. 

“For what?” She asks. First you think she’s being facetious—knowing she has bested you in this stupid game for his heart. But when you look to meet her eye, you spot genuine curiosity. 

“F-for the Mandalorian. For…” When her eyebrows furrow and her head tilts to the side, your features shift to confusion. “—You guys are like…together right?” 

“Me and Mando?” She asks with a small laugh. “I thought—” 

But a sound breaks the two of you out of your strange gaze and shifts your bodies to turn towards the entrance of the hut. For some reason, you know who it is before your eyes dawn upon a black T and beskar. 

“There you are. Hey—uh.” He shifts when he sees you talking to the widow before you. 

Fuck. 

He wasn’t even talking to you. You spend the night in his bed, his arms, his hut, next to his kid. And he’s not even looking at you. 

Right. 

How could you have been so stupid? So naive? You feel like everything is moving in slow motion, but yet, time flies by without you. 

“The kids need you. They woke me up looking for you.” He's still talking to Omera. 

“Oh. Okay. Give me one second.” She pulls the apron off her front, bundles it up and sets it on the table that separates the two of you.

When she moves past the Mandalorian towards the kids, they don’t share a glance. Weird. You note. 

Silence enters the hut and the Mandalorian surprisingly doesn’t follow after her. You finish grabbing your fruits and a piece of bread and walk towards him. Hoping he will leave it at that and let you go back to your hut. 

“You left early this morning.” He says and his voice tears you out of your train of thought. 

“Yeah.” You reply dumbly.

“I was looking for you. Then the kids…they—” You cut him off.

“Yeah. It's okay.” You can’t help but feel lied to. Like he’s making up some lame excuse for when he came in here looking specifically for her. When tears spark at the back of your eyes and your throat suddenly feels tight, you fight his gaze and move to exit quickly. You won't let him see you cry. 

“I’ll see you in a bit for Grogu.” You continue when he stands staring like a statue. 

He says nothing after that. 

_ 

You know you’re being childish. But you also know you will be off this planet by sundown. 

This is all some stupid game he keeps playing with you. The teasing, the touches. It’s like he wants you in private but plays a role in some superficial life in public. He doesn’t fit in here. You don't fit in here. It's apparent enough. He can play pretend with the girl next door all he wants, but you both know the truth.

As you work with Gorgu, the Mandalorian doesn’t wait outside. He leaves when you arrive. It feels like a slap in the face—especially since you’re leaving tonight. Leaving Sorgan on bad terms makes your stomach twist. You’ll probably never see him again. 

He made you feel worth something in those small fleeting moments in his hut or the field. Even if it might’ve left you less whole than when you arrived, more broken, more confused—he made you feel good. 

Grogu and you have been growing close. At least that was something. You can see that he has a strong attachment to the Mandalorian and in the back of your head, you worry. After all this, Luke could reject him, but you doubt it. He’s desperate for a school and this kid looks too much like Yoda for him to say no. 

You finalize your preparations, tell Gorgu that he needs to reach out to someone named Luke when the Mandalorian takes him to the seeing stone. 

You sneak into your pack and pull out some fresh berries you snuck from the dining hut this morning with Omera. You offer them to him and he takes them with a smile. Seeing the kid happy makes your heart full. After all, this wasn’t some trip to get you laid, you truly believed he would bring balance to the force. 

Grogu does a couple flips with berries still in his hands despite your protests, and on a particularly precarious looking tumble, you catch him in your hands. He looks up to you, babbling, and then proceeds to vomit all over the front of your shirt. 

Great. 

_ 

The Mandalorian comes in when you were trying to clean up Grogu’s mess. 

“What happened?” He moves fast towards you to inspect your shirt, then down to the kid who is none the wiser. 

“Nothing–I–sorry. I gave him some berries. He was like jumping and stuff and then he just…” you motion to the front of your shirt. The vomit had remained untouched since you were trying to clean the front of Grogu’s robes first. 

“Take that off. Here.” He digs through the baskets near the walls and extends a faded black shirt to you. Your eyes widen. 

“No. I’m just gonna go back and change. It’s fine.” You shake your head and step back slightly. Too much. Too complicated. Too domestic. But your hands want to reach out and accept the clothing. It probably smells like him. Your heart flutters at the thought. 

“And what? Put your kit on? C’mon just change.” 

Kriff. He was right. 

“I–okay. Thanks.” You murmur under your breath and take the shirt from his hand. 

He picks Grogu up and turns, letting you change. Considerate–you note–despite his wandering hands days prior. 

His shirt falls over your frame and when you slide it over your head, his scent pushes through your nose. Woodsy. Gun powder. Something synthetic, maybe gun oil or armor polish. It flutters through you and makes your heart beat ten times faster. 

“Okay.” You say when the shirt falls past your hips, hitting the middle of your thighs—you feel the hem as you roll it through your fingers. He turns at the indication you’re done changing. 

He stares at you. You can feel his gaze. He holds Gorgu in his right arm, places him in his pram, and shuts the doors. He takes a step toward you, experimentally. When you don’t react, another. And then another. 

“He’ll be done soon.” You snap out of your trance. You remember this morning. Omera. His excuses.

“What?” 

“Grogu. He’s doing good. You can take him to the seeing stone soon.” You gesture towards the pram. 

“He’ll be done soon.” He echoes your previous statement. 

“Yes.” you whisper. 

He tilts his head slowly, coming closer to you. You don’t even recall when he got so close. 

“Is that what you want?” His hand hovers over your hip, but not touching you yet. 

“I–I want what’s best for—” His actions cut your words. His hand gripping your waist tightly. He rubs your skin through his shirt tenderly and tugs on it a little. 

“You want what’s best for who?” He prods. Teasing you. He massages you more, bringing you closer to him, his hand around your back, beginning to move slowly, dangerously, down your body. 

“I–I w–want…” You stutter, but his hands barely brush over the curve of your ass and you lose your train of thought. Your hands move to his chestplate softly, your feeble attempts to stop this before you couldn’t anymore. 

“C’mon. Tell me.” 

You look up, unable to make words come out of your throat, settling for a quiet whimper that drives Din insane. He knows what he’s doing to you. It’s a game to him, you realize. Making you so flustered you can’t even string together a sentence. He knows his effect. 

“You want me to stop?” He continues when you say nothing but whimper. 

“N-no. I–” 

“No? Then what? Keep going, use your words.” His tone cuts deep to your belly. He pushes his hand up your back and flanks your sides, his hand brushing against your breast, pushing over the swell of it, his thumb barely touching your nipple through his shirt. Maybe this is the part where the helmet comes off, and he’s beautiful, and you fall in love. But maybe this is also reality. And you can't bring yourself to indulge in someone you know you will never be able to let go of. 

“I–I–fuck–I can’t.” You step back, silently whining from his hand’s release on your body. “I–” you try to explain. To say anything. But you malfunction like a droid. His touch is permanently burned into you. Silence passes between you as he steps back. 

“You can’t.” He confirms—like he didn’t hear you right. His head hangs and then looks back at you. You take another step back. This is it—saying no to him, his advances—this settles it. 

“I-I’m sorry.” 

_ 

You leave the hut with tears streaming down your face. The silence deafening between you two for longer than you can count. You left the Mandalorian, giving him a half assed response, something about how you needed to get some rest. You don’t really remember much after his touch left your body. It hurts your heart, the thought that maybe he does want you. Maybe you’re worth something—but even more so that you have to leave. 

You pack up quickly, the sun setting on the horizon. You have overstayed your welcome. Davin would be after you soon. You needed to go back to him before he got off world. You leave your hut and make way to your ship near town. 

Settling in the finality of it, you look up to the pink sky. 

You thought you weren’t going back to Davin, but after all this, there was nowhere else to go. You knew what was waiting for you on Coruscant and even though you weren’t sure if you were ready to face it, you knew hiding forever was not in your future.

Not again.

_ 

Chapter Six: The Stage

Taglist: Let me know if you want to be added!!

@iammissdoddydoodagrimes @dinwifey @n7cje

#din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x oc #din djarin x reader #mandalorian x f!reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x oc #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandaloria/reader #din djarin fan fiction #din djarin #mando #din x reader #din djarin x original female character #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x you #the mandalorion spoilers #din djarin smut #the mines of mandalore #grogu djarin #grogu #din djarin one shot #din grogu #din darjin #din x you #din x oc #din x omera #din dijarin fanfiction #clan of two

[pedropascalsx]

dancing is a dangerous game.

Din Djarin x Reader (OFC - no descriptions of appearance)

Rating: Eventually will be Explicit.

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: The Mandalorian has been tasked to collect a bounty. A young girl who’s father borrowed thousands of credits from bad men in her name. The sweet girl is unaware of her fathers antics and is now at risk of paying the punishment for his crimes with her life.

Warnings: Mentions of gambling.

Ongoing - chapter two.

(please let me know if you like it.)

The alley was piled high with trash, discarded and broken furniture. The stench flooded his helmet almost immediately and he had to fight the urge to gag as it lingered in his nostrils.

The tracking fob in his hand was flashing steadily, and for the first time in a while – he had managed to keep track of his bounty from the moment he left his ship. He paid a little more than he wanted and parked it in a hanger a little further out to ensure his kid would be safe. Usually, he’d bring him along, but he knew that it was safer to keep him locked away in his floating shield above his cot.

 The flashy lights of the city started to reflect of The Mandalorians’ shiny armour the moment he stepped out of the alley, the sounds of music flooding from streets from multiple bars and taverns. The streets were abuzz with chatter and excitement as people made their way to the casinos and drinking holes this shit hole was known for.

The Mandalorian was also on his way to a bar, but not for the same reason as the people surrounding him. He had seen Greef Karga a few days ago, and he’d been insistent that this job would be beneficial for The Mandalorian with a handsome amount of credits.

He ignored the whispers, the pointing and the stares from the strangers gossiping about his presence.

Scanning the area, he quickly saw the sign he was looking for - a gaudy neon arrow with the name of the bar flashing in multiple colours.

A loud sigh rolled through the voice modulator fitted in his helmet as he noted the long line of men waiting to get in and gawp at the ladies inside. It wasn’t a brothel. The signs in multiple dialects made that clear, these women were there to dance and that was it. They could look but officially they couldn’t touch. Of course, this wasn’t always the way, a few of the ladies would occasionally allow a quick grope for a smattering of credits if the client was wealthy enough but if this wasn’t agreed upon all hell would break lose.

He walked up to the two bouncers on the door and discreetly showed them the flashing fob in his hands and they simply stepped to the side. Assuming he was there for a patron and not wanting to get into a fight with a man twice their size, clearly armed and draped in beskar armour.

Loud music was being blasted from every corner of the large bar area, the room heaving with bodies. Raucous laughter and random chit-chattering made the Mandalorian growl under his breath, the unnecessary attempts at holding conversation in a bar playing music this loud – making him roll his eyes. He had a brief description of the person he was looking for; he knew for a fact she’d be here; she worked every night and Karga had assured him that she never allowed herself a day off.

He walked around scanning faces, searching through the crowd and chuckling to himself every time he noticed someone practically run for their lives when they spotted the bounty hunter.

Looking up at the ladies stood on their platforms, surrounded by jeering and slobbering men he grumbled and rolled his eyes again. The disgusting words being spewed at them started to make his skin crawl; how could these men speak to anyone like this he wondered quietly to himself.

A waitress tapped his arm and before she could finish asking him if he needed a drink, he shook his head at her and started to walk away, and that’s when he saw her. It had to be her.

Exactly as she had been described, she was there. But what he was expecting of her was completely different. She was tucked away in the farthest corner of the bar, and she was dancing like he had expected but it was worlds apart from anything else being showcased for the entertainment of lecherous men at this bar. She was fully covered in a beautiful silver dress. The material shimmering and reflecting the strobe light system, every moment made the dress appear a different colour and maker every movement was breath-taking.

He couldn’t quite understand why she was moving the way she was. The rest of the girls dancing in a similar fashion; thrusting their hips and shaking their curves to entice the men staring. But she was effortlessly gliding, stretching her body in the most mesmerising way, pirouetting and tiptoeing around to music that seemed almost unworthy of her talents.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood and stared for; he noticed the music change a few times, but he was anchored to the spot. Eyes continuously skimming her body and his brain trying to comprehend how she was able to move in such a way. It all seemed so wonderfully effortless to her.

A fight breaking out behind him, between a guard and a patron bought him out of the trance she had unknowingly put him in, and he was reminded of the shithole he was in, and again he couldn’t help but wonder how and why she was doing this here.

The crowd surrounding her was quieter, but she was clearly the most popular dancer by far. He could see the marks where the booths that had once been fitted had been hastily removed to allow more room for spectators.

He wasn’t sure how to go about getting her, he figured if he attempted to grab her off of the stage the patrons as well as security would attempt to engage in battle and as gifted a fighter he is, he didn’t fancy taking on that many people at once.

So, he simply waited. Cautious enough to stay far enough back so that she wouldn’t immediately clock eyes on him and attempt to dash, but close enough to see every single movement, the gentle flick of her wrists and every meticulous piece of footwork she delicately exhibited.

Eventually the waitresses started ringing the bells and signalling that they’d no longer be serving drinks and that all customers would need to exit as soon as their glasses had been drained. In the corner of his eye, he’d noticed that the girls we’re exiting their posts from left to right. About eight girls remained on stage, leaving a minute or so after each other.

He quickly exited the bar and scanned the area for the particular exit door that the dancers were leaving through, and it wasn’t before long that the first few emerged. He stood far enough back as not to alarm anyone and to make it seem like he was waiting for someone in particular.

A fit of giggles came from the exit door and before he had time to process it, she was stood a few feet away from him. Saying goodbye to a twi’lek girl that had been dancing a few podiums from hers.

The moment she was alone he cleared his throat loud enough for her to hear and stood to face her. He noted the look of bewilderment of her face as he placed the bounty puck in front of her that displayed her name and face. The look of bewilderment quickly changed to pure fear and panic.

——————————————————————————————

 You look up at the large figure looming over you covered in armour and yielding a bounty puck with your face being broadcast from it.

“I d-don’t understand,” you stutter breathlessly, “What?”

The Mandalorian scoffs and shakes his head, “I can bring you in warm,” he says, and you watch as he reaches down to touch the blaster attached to his hip, “Or I can bring you in cold.”

“I don’t want any trouble,” you choke out as tears instantly spring up to your eyes, “I just don’t understand.”

“Put out your hands.” he replies gruffly, and you comply instantly.

The tears in your eyes begin to fall as he cuffs your hands; you look around desperately hoping for someone to come to your aid and let them know that this can’t be right. That you’d never willingly do anything that would get yourself or anyone else into trouble, but you’re all alone. All alone except for the man cuffing your hands.

“Walk next to me, I wouldn’t recommend attempting to run… it wouldn’t end in your favour.”

Lifting your restrained hands, you attempt to wipe away some of the tears fogging up your vision, the stinging in your eyes worsening by the second. He walks you slowly out onto the street in which the entrance to the bar you work out is located and you look around sheepishly at all the people beginning to take notice. The shame rising in your stomach and spreading through you as your cheeks flush in embarrassment. You have no idea why this is happening, what you have allegedly done but these people stop and stare to automatically judge you and decide you guilty before knowing the truth.

You look over at the bounty hunter next to you just to see something other than their judgemental eyes that you keep finding yourself accidentally locking yours with.

He tilts his helmet towards an alley way, and you turn on your heel, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as you notice that its bare. No one down there to watch you in your most embarrassing and confusing moments.

“Who sent you?” You finally ask, voice barely breaking a whisper, “What are they saying I did?”

You look back over at him and he’s continuing to walk forward making no indication that he heard your question. You begin to ask again, and a loud sigh is breathed through his helmet, the filter making it louder than needed be.

“You made agreements to borrow large sums of credits from wealthy men,” he says with another sigh, “And then didn’t meet a single arrangement, not one! – no effort to pay any of them back. What did you think was going to happen?”

You stop. Your feet refusing to move as you try to make sense of what he’d just said, you hear him growl in annoyance as he turns to face you. Your face contorts and brows furrow in confusion, “I’ve never borrowed a single credit from anyone,” you voice wavers at the end of your sentence, “I don’t know what you’re taking about.”

The scoff and slight roll of his shoulders makes it clearly obvious that he doesn’t believe you. That he’d probably heard he’d got the wrong person for the millionth time, and you tense at the angry muttering beginning to flow from his helmet. Without another word to you he grips the back of one of your elbows and pushes you forward, giving you no choice but to pick up your feet and begin to walk again.

You walk silently for another ten minutes until you reach a parking bay, the tears had started streaming the moment you began walking again and the silent sobs lodged in your throat refusing to escape make you feel dizzy.

You can’t speak. You can’t audibly cry with you tears. You can’t do anything but walk and let the acid rainfall flood your cheeks. You pass a rodian child with what you assume is his father and suddenly things start to make sense. A rage lighting itself in the pit of your stomach.

Your father. The reason you’re working at that shit-hole bar. And now the reason you’re being loaded into a bounty hunters ship becomes crystal clear.

It started a few months after your mother passed, a few games of sabacc to keep his mind off of his grief. A few credits lost here or there, and then you noticed a few pieces of missing silver from the cabinets and before you knew it anything of value had disappeared from your home.

Your mothers’ wedding ring was the piece that stung the most. She left it to you. You kept it hidden from him the best you could, but he tore apart your room searching for it, and you knew the moment you walked in and saw the destruction he caused - that it was gone forever.

You thought it couldn’t possibly get worse until he’d began borrowing and stealing from anyone and anywhere. Then you were informed that his tab at one of the casinos was so high, that he’d bargained you for his life. The owner agreeing to allow you to work off his debt by dancing in that shithole he owned as well as multiple casinos - until the debt had been repaid – working four nights to pay off your fathers’ debts and earning 50% of what the other girls earn the other three nights you forced yourself to work, just so you could eat.

The Mandalorian walks slightly ahead of you as you approach his ship. It’s battered. But you say nothing as he lowers the ramp. He turns to face you again as you turn to look back at the place you’ve called home your entire life, he sighs and takes a step forward convinced you’d decided to try your luck and run for it.

But you take him by surprise. You look towards the ship and past him and then start to climb the ramp, you wait patiently at the top for him – listening to his loud footsteps as he approaches you.

You’ve heard of carbonite freezing chambers before, the stories making your stomach sick as you imagine being stuck inside – having heard that some people are left fully conscious whilst frozen, your chest starts to heave up and down as another flood of panic takes over you.

“D-does it hurt?” You splutter as you feel him standing behind you.

“Can’t imagine it feels good,” he says with a slight shrug, “You’re the last person I needed to collect, so it won’t be long. Only a day or so.”

A day or so. The words get stuck in your throat as you start to imagine what it’s going to feel like. How the cold is going to seep into your bones as you’re stuck lifeless but fully alive in a plaque of carbonite.

“My dad.” You choke out.

He scoffs for what feels like the 300th time tonight and you bite your lip, “It’s not my job to deliver messages or allow favours… speak to whoever you owe the credits to and see if they can let you contact him.” The annoyance thick in his words.

“No. I didn’t mean that… You have the right person, I mean, the credits… Likely to have been borrowed in my name or my life maybe… my life is probably what he’d promised if he didn’t pay it back… but that’s what happened. It’s obvious to me now… I just. I don’t want anyone to think I’m stupid enough to do borrow maker knows how many credits and assume I could get away with not paying it back.” You take a step towards the chamber accepting your fate, and then you feel him.

His gloved hand wrapping around your elbow once again… this time gently. This time without angry intent.

“Dank farrik,” he murmurs loudly, “If I allow you to sleep in the cockpit and don’t freeze you, will you make me regret that decision?” He asks the question with a growl.

You shake your head furiously, “No. No. Of course not. You can keep the cuffs on too, if you must.”

“Trust me, I will.” He grunts back.

He walks you back into the hull and orders you to stay back, and you do without question. You watch as he walks over to a small door and opens it – revealing a cot. He shields the view, and you hear a slight whoosh – he mumbles something unintelligible before you hear the tiny whoosh again. He abruptly closes the door again and leads you up the ladder.

You take a seat on the co-pilots chair, and he stands over you for a few moments before moving to the pilots chair.

“Go to sleep,” he orders as he punches in some co-ordinates, “Door is locked so if you try anything stupid, you’ll regret it.”

You nod again not sure what exactly you could try, hands being shackled in front of you and him being big enough to crush you like a bug. So you do as your told, you lean back slightly and try to let sleep take you before you’re forced to accept whatever cruel punishment is awaiting you for a crime you didn’t commit.

next chapter.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din dijarin fanfiction #the mandalorion #the mandalorian fanfiction #my fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfics #star wars #star wars fanfiction

[webtrinsic1122]

I need Elia Kane edits set to the song “Butch 4 Butch,” by Rio Romeo rn.

#elia kane #the mandalorion spoilers #the mandalorian #Star Wars #fanfic #ao3 #fanfiction #edits

[otometrashqueen]

Me an MCU whore, waiting for my Mandalorian post credits scene 🥺😅

What am I going to do with myself now that I have no zaddy Pedro pascal show to watch every week 🤯 😩

No mention of Satine, but at least Bo’s story came full circle, the true leader of Mandalore 👑 so I’m satisfied

The scene relighting the Great Forge was amazing and Bo had her armorer girlfriend beside her 🥺 glad she didn’t end up being a spy like everyone was saying

Glad Din adopted Grogu for real, as he should 😌 their house on Nevarro is so cute definitely the fluff I’ve needed

If this is the final season I’m good with it honestly 😍

A Star Wars story with a happy ending, the world must truly be ending yall

#only thing that might make it better is if sun becomes Bo’s consort #😏 #but that’s what fanfics are for #Bo don’t need no man #and she got her Armorer girlfriend #everyone is happy #din djarin #bo katan kryze #the armorer #din grogu #mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorion spoilers #the mandalorian #mandalore #pedro pascal #justice for satine kryze #satine kryze

[lollahazadi]

And our dear Garazeb Orrelios, for the closest "Zeb", appears as a beloved and special guest in Episode of The Mandalorian <3 how warm in the heart to see one of the cutest, dearest and bravest characters in this Galaxy Far Far Away

<3 <3 <3 <3 ;D

#the mandalorian #the mandalorion spoilers #garazeb orrelios #star wars rebels #rebels fanart #rebels fanfiction #star wars #garazeb orrelios fanfic #animation #drawing

[entropic-saudade]

That scene between The Armorer and Bo-Karan in the last episode had my heart pounding so hard, holy shit the tension makes the fic write itself

#the mandalorion spoilers #bo katan x armorer #my writing #fanfic #my fic

[prncssberry]

That was an impossible amount to process right now but DIN GROGU THE FAMILY NAME IS DIN HIS NAME DJAIRN

#I’m feeling for all the fanfic writers rn #my world is turned upside down #the mandalorian #the mandalorion spoilers #din djarin #grogu djarin #din grogu #that’s so weird #star wars

[firewins-the-fangxrl]

​reading or writing mandalorian fic is really just unintentionally learning mando’a and i think that’s pretty cool

#and i love it #the mandalorian #the mandolarian #din djarin #the mandalorion fanfic #bobadin #dinluke #bobin #the mandolorian s2 #fanfic #fandom #mando'a #mando #din dijarin fanfiction #din dijarin x reader

[cherrysrambles]

Why Are You Bothering Me?

Summary: One night on the Razor Crest you can’t handle just how cold space can get, so you finally decide to do the only logical thing. Snuggle up to a very warm Mandalorian

Warnings: none, super fluffy, kinda suggestive, just cuteness

Words: 1,084

It was a cold night on The Crest. Usually you’d be able to get through the cold by bundling yourself up in all the unused blankets on the ship, and occasionally throwing on one of Mando’s old capes. But tonight you couldn’t handle it, your whole body was going numb, you were sure you were going to die from hypothermia. You both decided to take it in turns who gets to sleep in that tiny cot Mando calls a bed. Well it was more you forcefully telling him that he’s not allowed to fall asleep in his pilots chair on long nights, he needs a good night sleep just like everyone else does. So much so that that particular night, you sprinted up to the cockpit and practically threw yourself in his chair so he would have to go sleep in the cot. Kinda funny at the time. But with Mando in the hatch, it’s now the warmest part of the ship, and you’re stuck shivering in his chair in a big ball of fabric.

This is it, this is how I go you think to yourself. What would Mando think when he found your cold lifeless body in the hanger, would he care that you died? He might care a bit. It’s hard to get a read on him sometimes, half the time you don’t know if you’re annoying him with your presence or if he actually wants you around. You start finding it hard to breathe from how much you’re shivering.

Fuck it. Theres no other option, or is there? Nope, there definitely is no other option. Mando is like his own space heater, he radiates heat even through all that beskar. But waking up a Mandalorian from his rest doesn’t sound like a good idea. To be honest, he petrifies you sometimes, not intentionally, but it’s just the way he is, so stoic all the time, it feels like he’s constantly watching you, which he’s clearly not, why would he? But this time, you have to man up and do it. It even hurts to get off the chair and make it down the ladder. Eventually when you get there you knock gently on the compartment door.

*knock knock* ‘Mando…. Nothing is wrong! So don’t worry, Grogu and I are safe” you manage to get out. You hear shuffling and a grumbled “Then why are you bothering me?” He sounds different, you realise it’s because he doesn’t have his helmet on! Of course he doesn’t, he doesn’t live in that thing, although you had your suspicions…

“I’m sorry, I’ll let you get back t-“

“What do you want?” He cuts you off.

“I.. I’m cold’

“Then get a blanket”

“Mando I have all of them”

“…Then grab one of my capes”

You whisper so quietly that you’re unsure he’ll even hear ‘I have that too”

Silence

“You’ll need body heat” he says. This was not the plan you had in mind, but he’s right, you had ALL the blankets in the ship, you need something nice and warm and firm and har- stop it. Your mind is wondering again.

The lights go out in the hull and you know he’s waiting for you. You press the button to open the compartment “drop the blankets” he says and you can feel his voice trembling down to your core.

“What side are you on?” You whisper “Your left”the replies.

You drop the blankets and hurriedly get under his, facing away from him.

“You’re shivering sweet girl” Theres that nickname again. You nod as he pulls you closer into his arms.

“It’s ok, just relax, I’ve got you” he says into your hair, calming you instantly.

Moments pass before he speaks again. “You should take your clothes off, I mean, take off what you’re comfortable with, like, down to your underwear, like me, so I can warm you properly” If you weren’t so damn cold and embarrassed you might’ve realised just how flustered the Mandalorian is getting.

You slowly start trying to remove your sleep top, but struggle, the feeling still hasn’t come back to your fingers, sensing your frustration, Mando places a warm hand on your hip and ever so slowly moves it under your shirt, undressing you carefully whilst turning you around to face him. He removes your top and you cling to him shivering as he rubs a warm hand up and down your back. You like this you think, as you still continue to shiver. “Your pants need to go” He says, you nod and make no move to remove them yourself. The hand that’s caressing your back moves slowly down your back and under the waistband your your sleep pants as he slowly starts to lower the fabric, using his feet to kick them the rest of the way off, “wrap your legs around me” he says as removes your leg to rest over his. His warm hand goes back to stroking up and down your back soothing you. You try as hard as you can not to think about what is pressing right up against your core currently.

Eventually, you stop shivering and start to relax. You snuggle up to his warm broad chest even closer and. Shit. Mando said ‘take your clothes off like me’ didn’t he? You shuffle around slowly trying to move back and he grabs you tight “please stop moving” he says. Yep, he’s definitely in his boxers and you definitely don’t have a bra on.

“Unless you’re uncomfortable?” He whispers?

“I’m comfortable” You lie. You’ve never been this close to anyone, let alone this close to anyone whilst half naked.

“I can feel your tension, we can stop, you’ve warmed up” he says as he starts to pull away, but you grab him tight.

“It’s just.. I’ve never been.. This is just..I..” You stutter

“Me too”

“Really!?” You blurt out “I mean, I didn’t mean that, ignore I said that” you plead, and you can sense how tense he is now,

“Mando I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel unco-“

“I’ve never been this close to anyone either” Oh, well that’s new information.

He continues “And I’ve never taken my helmet off in front of anyone else, you’re the first”

“I can’t see your face, so it’s ok, right?” He doesn’t answer, he just hums into your hair and very slowly, you start to drift off into the best sleep of your life.

#din djarin #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #din djarin x reader #pedro pascal #the mandalorion fluff #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #din djarin fluff #din djarin x reader fluff #cherrysrambles

[livingemkayde]

Twin Moons - Chapter Four: The Warning

Series Summary: 

when you meet a Mandalorian on the sands of Tatooine, for some reason you both can't stay away. even through all the pain—you keep coming back to each other. it's all you know how to do.

Chapter Four: The Warning

Notes: This one’s a doozy! I love writing readers and Mando’s dialogue. It is so much fun. I hope you are liking this story so far. Please enjoy.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive f!reader

Series warnings: *Although this chapter may not contain graphic content, this story is rated 18+ due to graphic depictions of violence and sexual scenarios.*

Chapter warnings: Mentions of the empire, the dark side, and the force, angst. Brief mentions of abuse and Stockholm syndrome. Some light mutual pining but mostly one-sided. Mando having a potty mouth. Implications of sexual scenes. Jealousy and reader’s self hatred. 

Summary:

“He hurts you.” The Mandalorian says, hiding his emotions behind modulation. 

You just shrug in response. 

“So coming here, preparing Grogu…” He trails off. 

“If he finds me?” You meet his gaze once more and for some reason, a small chuckle escapes your lips. “It’s more like a death sentence.” 

Masterlist Chapter Two Chapter Three

Before the sun rises, you haul yourself out of bed to the bathhouses on the outskirts of the village. You bring your change of clothes. A shower would be nice after traveling for so long. 

You look into the mirror above the sink in the small room. Fuck. You look terrible. Your lip is busted and your cheekbone still harbors a nasty bruise, slowly turning purple. You have small cuts near your eyebrow where Davins rings sliced through your skin when he hit you. No wonder Omera and the Mandalorian were staring at you earlier. 

You wash your face of the dried blood formed on the scabs and step into the shower. The steam hits your body and you relish in the feeling of warm water. You quickly clean your body and hair and step out to dry off. 

When you leave the bathhouse, the sun is just peaking over the horizon of trees in the distance. You quickly return to your hut and gather your gloves and braces. 

You put them on while stepping out, moving down the stairs swiftly towards the direction of the Mandalorians hut. You look down to your hands while you fasten your glove tighter at the wrist, the other still dangling from your belt. 

“Sleep well?” A voice calls from ahead of you. The Mandalorian. He’s leaning back on the entrance of the hut, his arms crossed over his chest. You try to fight the smile that rises to your face, but can’t help the blush that crawls over your skin.

You nod, and peer your head in his direction as you ask, “You?” In return. He nods. 

When you reach his hut’s steps, you slow your stroll, wanting to secure your second glove before arriving at the entrance. You pull the glove from your belt and as you shuffle your sleeve higher to put it on, a gloved hand comes out to grab your wrist. 

Out of instinct, you pull back, but the Mandalorians grasp is unrelenting. He pulls your wrist towards him, fully extending your arm while you struggle to fight against his grip. 

“What the fuck are you doing Mandalorian? I–” He rotates your wrist open and your black barcode stares back at the two of you. His thumb rubs over the ink. Your eyes widen “–Maker, f-fuck.” you say as you pry your arm out of his solid hand. You silently rub your wrist where he held you as you fasten your glove as fast as you can. You glance up at him to find him already looking at your face. You tear your eyes away just as fast.

A heat rises to your chest, you feel embarrassed. You knew he meant no harm, but knowing he saw the ink on your body leaves you feeling ashamed. You try not to think about the gentle sweep of his thumb on your skin. Or the sudden feeling of sympathy radiating off him. 

“Where’s the kid?” You say, trying to change the subject. You don’t let him respond. You push through the curtains of his hut and take in the sight. His space is bigger than yours. You can see his made bed as you try to look for green ears poking out anywhere. 

You step towards the middle of the room and the Mandalorian joins you inside. You spin towards him at his entrance. His frame is big, he takes up the majority of the doorway and he leans to his right so his shoulder hits the wall while he crosses his arms over his chest. Fuck. He looks good. 

You hear a small coo coming from behind a set of boxes in the corner and make your way to retrieve The Child. 

You find him seated while stuffing his face with some kind of berry and lift him to your eye level. The Mandalorian suddenly pushes off from the wall and strides over to you. You can see him out of the corner of your eye. Tense. 

“Hi there.” You say, smiling. He feels warm in your touch. 

The Child looks at you with curious eyes and breaks into a small laughter. His hands drop the remaining berries and shoot out to you for your embrace. He lets out small sounds as you bring him towards your chest. 

_ 

The Mandalorian waits outside his hut while you work with the kid. You can see his shadow through the curtain as the sun rises and sets its place in the blue sky. The Mandalorian listens to your small conversations, but it's mostly light laughter mixed with silence.

You meet Grogu. He reveals his name through the force. Though his thoughts are shrouded by darkness. He tried to push away his memories but you can see enough to know he was there, at the temple, when you had already gone. He was saved and hidden by someone. Then his memories become dark.

You try not to pry too much on the first day. He plays with your hair as you hold him, sitting on the ground.

After a few hours The Child falls sleepy and you place him in the bassinet near the Mandalorians bed. 

You peel back the curtains to the entrance of the hut and join the Mandalorian in the streaming sun and daylight. 

“Grogu.” You start with, while walking to stand in front of him. 

“What?” He asks as his head rises from his slumped position. 

“His name, The Child. Grogu.” 

“I didn’t know he could talk.” 

“He can. Through the force.” 

“You mean his powers.” 

“I mean the force.” You reply with a small smile while shaking your head and looking down at your feet. 

“Grogu.” He tests the name on his tongue. While crossing his arms and looking out towards the village. The children running and laughing set the stage for an all too domestic looking scene. The thought makes your cheeks red. 

“He did well. Though he is not as in touch with the force as I presumed. He needs some work before traveling to the seeing stone.” You say and meet his gaze. You wrap your arms around yourself, a soft breeze snaking through the village. As you look out towards his eyeline, you spot Omera and her child, Winta, you soon learned. 

“Thank you.” He says. Your head snaps towards his direction–he looks back at you. 

“Of course.” You reply, blushing again while he shuffles slightly against the wall, standing up straight. 

“About earlier. I’m sorry.” He says referring to your wrist. 

It burns in his reference, you can feel it warming under your sleeve. You can only nod in response. 

You two fall into a comfortable silence, you look out towards the children again, many of them making their way towards the main cabin for breakfast you presume. Omera is there, leading the children in, and from the corner of your eye, you can see his helmet following her. 

Although your heart sinks a bit at the sight, you find it an opportunity to spark casual conversation. 

“Are you guys like…together or something?” You ask, and put a smirk on your face to hide any tinge of jealousy or sadness in your voice. 

“What? Who?” His helmet turns back to you. 

“You and Omera.” You say while meeting his eye. You wrap your arms tighter around your body. 

“Me and…no, no. Nothing like that.” He clears his throat and looks down to the ground before cheating a glance at the widow in the field. 

“You sure?” You, you stifle a laugh, a genuine laugh. 

“What? Yeah. I’m–I'm sure.” He crosses his arms across his chest. 

You decide to drop the topic. He seems uncomfortable with your questioning and you take it their romance has gone unsaid between the two. A few moments pass. 

“Why do you ask?” He breaks the silence, you turn to look at him, his head moves between looking at his feet and your face. 

"The way you look at her. The way she looks at you…” You trail off, meeting his visor, but Din notes how you find his eyes, once again.

“Didn’t know you were paying me that much attention.” He replies, while shrugging his shoulders. Smug. 

“I pay attention to everything. Like how I assume you do too. You’re a bounty hunter after all.” You say back with a gentle smile on your face. 

“You could say that. I-nothing is going on. She’s nice. We met the last time the kid–Grogu–and I stayed here.” 

“She’s just nice?” You inquire, childish, sure, but you wanted to know more about the man under the helmet, and your curiosity gets the better of you. 

“She’s–I don’t know. What’s going on with you and Davin Jenko anyways.” He bites back and places his thumbs into his belt while leaning back on the wall again. 

“Don’t try to change the subject here. I told you, nothing is going on.” 

“Your eyes said differently last night.” He says, his head lolling to the side. You flush. 

“Hey–I–nothing is happening with Davin. I have a debt, he’s a creep, that's all.” 

“But something did happen…in the past?” 

“What? N-no, maker.” You mutter. You wonder to yourself how he can see through you so easily. How he can probably guess your life story with a couple questions and a keen gaze on your eyes through his visor. “Kriffing Mandalorians” you mumble under your breath. 

“Hey I’m not the one with some who’s dating some sick fuck.” He bites back. 

“I’m not dating him. Fuck, Mandalorian.” You say, exacerbated, while running your hands over your face. 

“Okay, maybe not dating but he’s fucking you.” He says coolly. Your head snaps up at his crude language. Uncharacteristic of the stoic man before you, or who you thought was stoic. 

“What? Maker fuck. And so what if I was? What’s it to you?” You ask while placing your hands on your hips. You’re starting to become angry now. 

“Nothing. Just an observation.” He notes. 

“You’ve met him?” Your eyes widen. 

“Once or twice.” 

“Regarding?” 

“Bounty work.” 

“Then why was I sent out to kill you?” 

“We didn’t work out.” He replies and you stare at him stunned. 

Davin sent you on some fucking petty revenge story to kill his failed business partner. 

“He talked about you. I didn’t put it together until last night. He invited me for spotchka to talk business. Said his girl would be back soon and he needed to make it quick, went on about how you’re his best assassin.” 

The thought brings bile to your throat. His girl? Fuck. This was worse than you thought. 

“I’m not–I’m not his girl. He was—he saved me."

His head tilts like he's prompting you. Keep going.

"He was nice in the beginning. Said I only had to do a couple jobs, kill some bad people, then he would let me go. A few turned into ten, which turned into a couple hundred–” Your head drops in shame “–when I tried to leave, he…” You try to hide your beaten face behind your hair. You swallow your shame and a lump forms in your throat.

“He hurts you.” The Mandalorian says, hiding his emotions behind modulation. 

All you can do is shrug in response. 

“So coming here, preparing Grogu…” He trails off. 

“If he finds me?” You meet his gaze once more and for some reason, a small chuckle escapes your lips. “It’s more like a death sentence.” 

_

When Grogu woke from his nap you parted ways with the Mandalorian for the day. You decided to walk throughout the forest surrounding the village before nightfall. 

You talked with the Mandalorian for a couple hours, learning more about him, his story with Grogu, his bounties.

You told him about Luke, his training purpose, his ultimate goals for a school. The council in Coruscant, although you leave out the part about the last day you saw Luke's father. He just nodded in response. You know he was listening, but you weren't sure if he understood it all.

He asks you about your past. Your history with the club. You tell him, reluctantly, the gist of your debt.

He doesn't once ask about your eyes. And although you wonder if the helmet will ever come off, you don't question his ways.

You're surprised he takes everything you say in strides. You're surprised you haven't scared him off, or upset him.

You try to push thoughts of him to the backburner. He takes up too much of your mind anyways.

As you make your way through the forest, you note the small flowers on the ground and smile to yourself. 

Suddenly, your holoprojector in your back pocket beeps. You pull it out, Davin’s gang sign is marked on the top in scratched paint. You open the message. Davin shows in front of you. A stark contrast to the green earth surrounding. 

“You’re late.” He states. “Three days to return and then you know what happens. This is me being generous.” 

His figure disappears as quickly as it showed, a lump forms in your throat and you can feel your hands begin to sweat in your gloves. 

He would come after you. It was standard procedure if an assassin did not return in three days, they had another three before they came after you and killed you. 

Knowing it was you who was late, and the Mandalorian you already failed once to kill? It would be Davin himself coming to Sorgan. He would wreak havoc on the place, destroying anything in his path. For you.  

Fuck. 

Davin would kill the Mandalorian himself, and probably the kid too. The thought brings goosebumps to the surface of your skin. 

You had to leave. You had to go, for Grogu’s safety. Kriff, for everyone on this planet’s safety. 

You look back towards the village, the trees roping through your vision as you push the holoprojector back into your pocket. You shove your hands into your jacket and continue walking through the forest. 

Three days, and then you were gone.  _ 

You make your way back to the village for dinner. The rest of the residents have moved to the seating area outside, surrounding a fire. You see Omera next to the Mandalorian on the other side of the fire, Grogu playing with the children in a small patch of grass. 

You make yourself a plate and sit on a log near the fire, your body cold from your walk in the woods. 

As you begin to eat, you stare at the couple through the fire. He leans in to whisper something in her ear. She laughs. Winta joins them. 

What a joke. 

They look like a happy family—you? A nobody.

Maybe he should stay here to start a life after taking Grogu to the seeing stone. They look good together. She’s pretty, kriff, beautiful even. 

She has kind eyes and a good heart. She would never hurt people. 

You drop your gaze, suddenly feeling sick from your incessant thoughts. You play with a flower you picked from the ground and feel a presence join you on the log. 

You turn your head and see Winta sitting next to you. 

“Hi.” She says with a smile. She’s cute. 

“Hey there.” You reply back. 

“What’s your name?” She says while folding over herself and wrapping her arms around her knees. 

“People call me Saki. You?” 

“Winta.” 

“Nice to meet you Winta. I like your top.” You note. 

“Thanks. My mom made it. You know my mom right?” She says and looks over at Omera. 

“Yeah. I know your mom. She is a very kind woman.” 

“She’s the best.” 

“You’re probably right.” You whisper back, more to yourself than to the small child next to you. 

A couple moments pass—you people watch as Winta stares at you.

“My friend says you kill people. That’s why your eyes are like that.”

You turn to her with wide eyes. 

“What–I…” Your lips part, you can’t find the words to respond. 

“But you would never kill anyone here though…right?” She says while looking into your eyes, her head tilts to the side. 

“No–no no. I-I would n-never hurt anyone here.” You say while shaking your head. 

“Winta!” Omera calls from the other side of the fire. Your head snaps up towards her voice, breaking your trance and interrupting the tears forming in your eyes. “It's bedtime bug! Let's go.” She beckons. 

“Bye.” Winta leaves you. 

You suddenly feel other’s eyes on you as you sit on the log. You feel unwanted, judged, like you have been your whole life. 

You feel rooted to your place by the fire. You could stay there forever—even after everyone left, until the sun rose on your face and blinded your eyes. Until the flowers grow over your feet and devour you into the ground. 

You look up to the Mandalorian and Omera. He bids them goodnight, ushering them towards their hut with his hand on her lower back. He leans in again to whisper something in her ear, and she nods without another word. 

He looks towards your direction and you quickly avert your gaze. Fuck. You needed to get out of here. 

You stand, wiping the back of your pants of dirt and move quickly while dropping your head. 

Tears fall from your eyes before you know it, the salty stream staining your face and burning when they hit your half open cuts. 

It's okay. 

It’s okay the Mandalorian is with Omera. It’s okay you are who you are. It's okay you've done the things you’ve done. 

There is no changing the past now. 

You can feel him wanting to reach out to you, but you move through the crowd quickly, back to the path that leads to your hut. 

To your surprise, he doesn’t follow after you. 

And that’s okay. 

_

Chapter Five: The Silence

Taglist: Let me know if you want to be added!!

@iammissdoddydoodagrimes @dinwifey @n7cje

#din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x oc #din djarin x reader #mandalorian x f!reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x oc #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandaloria/reader #din djarin fan fiction #din djarin #mando #din x reader #din djarin x original female character #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x you #the mandalorion spoilers #din djarin smut #the mines of mandalore #grogu djarin #grogu #din djarin one shot #din grogu #din darjin #din x you #din x oc #din x omera #din dijarin fanfiction #clan of two

[nebytheneb]

Imagine being Kidnapped along-side Grogu

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Summary: You were protecting Grogu when the Dark Troopers came to take him away, and they took you as well.

Author’s note: second time writing for this blog. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Slight angst? Fluff near the end, PERHAPS BAD WRITING WHO KNOWS

Not my gif!

———————————

Din Djarin sat off to the side, fumbling with his thumbs while intensely staring at the floor. A lot ran through his mind at the sudden absence of his foundling and his close friend. He had found you not long after taking back Grogu for the first time; you were on the run and were able to convince the Mandalorian to take you with him and his newfound Foundling, and the rest was history. 

A pat on his shoulder had broken him out of his staring contest with the floor as he looked up to see Cara Dune walk past him and head over to Fennec.

Cara leans against the inner walls of Slave I, “I have never seen him this quiet before.” She says after observing the Mandalorian for a good while.

“Well,” comes the muffled voice of Boba Fett in the cockpit who was overhearing Cara, “he lost his child and her. Anyone as deadly as him would be deathly quiet.” Fennec just nods along, thinking back on when she was being hunted by Din on Tatooine.

“That Moff Gideon is going to get quite the treat with whatever Mando is planning.” Boba added.

“Or whatever I have planned,” Cara just cracks her knuckles, ready to knock out some Imperials.

Din djarin barely hears the others talking about him, too busy thinking to himself again. He couldn’t imagine what was happening to you or Grogu right now. He could almost say he seemed worried or even scared, with the feeling of tightness in his chest and constantly looking back on memories of you and the child smiling while playing together. Oh, how he has missed your smile in the hours you have been gone, you helped him in every way possible, to where you have nursed him, showed him how to take care of little Grogu and helped with fixing the Razor Crest... When it wasn’t destroyed. 

They had just left Mayfeld behind on the planet where they got the coordinates to Moff Gideon’s ship and the Mandalorian had sent that message to him basically telling him he was on his way to which they were.

Boba flicked a few switches upon realising they found the small imperial ship with the scientist that has been working on Grogu. “Found it,” Boba speaks out to the others. 

—————

The surface was icy; the room was dark and hardly lit. You had been awake in the cell for a few hours now. There were no visitors in those hours until now when the door had slid open.

Two stormtroopers entered the room, followed by a man you knew all too well,

“Moff Gideon,” You immediately stand up and try to get at him but a chain connected to the handcuffs stopped you from getting any close, “Where’s Grogu!” You almost yell at him. You could feel the rage bubbling up inside you upon staring at the man, the one man you wish to never see again.

Moff Gideon waves away the two stormtroopers and they leave, before one returns with the child in arms. “Your... Friend has sent a message, and he is coming,” he takes Grogu from the stormtrooper’s arms and a metal mouth-gag. “I suspect that he has a little gang with him,” he continues on as he approaches you while you slowly back up, falling back into a sitting position on the cell bed. “I deduce he will come for this,” he gestures to Grogu, “and you.” He then gestures towards you.

Any other situation. This would make you cheer with joy and laugh in your capturer’s face, but you knew Moff Gideon.

“And what do you plan to do?” You finally reply, confidence lacking in your voice.

“What do I plan to do? I’m going to wait...” He places Grogu down next to you, who was in handcuffs, and you could only imagine they restrict his powers.

After putting the child down. He faces you, holding up the metal mouth-gag and puts it on you. “You’re close to the Mandalorian, but does he know who you are?” You only stare daggers into him.

“I will say that’s a no.”

All you could do now is wait, wait to be rescued by your Mandalorian in shining Beskar armour.

----------------

Din had just taken out the two stormtroopers outside of the cell using the beskar spear. After doing so, he puts the spear away and takes out his blaster before opening the cell door to see Moff Gideon holding his darksaber up to your neck, close enough for you to feel it but far enough for it not actually touch your skin and seeing this made Din’s blood boil but he had to remain calm if he wanted to get you both out alive.

“Drop the blaster,” Moff was the first to speak, “slowly.” Din complied and reluctantly leaned down to put his blaster onto the floor. “Now kick it over to me” Moff added to which the Mandalorian kicked it towards him. “Very nice,” He nods in approval. 

“Give me them,” he gestures towards you and Grogu. “They’re just fine where they are.” Moff then waves the darksaber closer to your neck, getting dangerously close. “Mesmerizing, isn’t it?” He admires the way the saber glows with the black and white contrasting each other. “Used to belong to Bo-Katan.”

The conversation continues between the two. They could cut the tension in the room with, well, a darksaber. You had Grogu in your lap. While waiting he had made his way into it to which Moff Gideon didn’t care. Your cuffed hands had been patting his head for a while now. Probably the nerves and Grogu was your comfort. 

“I understand the child, but why her? Do you realise who you’re trying to save?” You immediately look up at Moff, with pleading eyes. “She’s a friend.” Din replies, voiced muffled by his helmet. “Did you know she is an Imperial officer? As I’m aware, you have been working with some ex imperials but she, she is different.” You shake your head, not wanting to hear this. 

“This doesn’t matter to me.” Din says, just wanting to get you two out of here. 

“Oh, oh, but it does, because she was the one who help start this project, to get the child and use his blood, to study it.” A faint smile was on Moff’s face. 

Some tears fell down your cheeks, afraid that Din would no longer wish to save you now knowing that this was all your fault. You shook, looking down at Grogu apologetically. You heard nothing else after that, only melting in your own sorrow, until suddenly you saw Moff move away and Din approached you two, you looked up and as you did; the Mandalorian reached his hand out to try wiping the tear.

You saw Moff Gideon behind him, and you try screaming out about him but muffled by the mouth-gag, Din got the message anyway. They both got to battling.

After a while of saber vs beskar, Din reenters the cell with darksaber in hand and he uses it to cut the chain and moved to remove the cuffs and the mouth-gag, also moving Grogu off of you. You desperately wrap your arms around his neck to hug him, tears fall onto his shoulder as you feel relieved when Din wrapped his arms around your waist. 

They break the hug off, “Din, I’m so sorry, I never knew this would happen a-and I should have told you e-everything!” You desperately try getting out an apology. “It’s okay, I don’t blame you, nor do I care.” And all you could do is hug him again. 

“Don’t leave me again.” You mumble to him.

“I’m not leaving you two, ever.”

#mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorion #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #mandalorian #din djarin #mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian x reader #slight angst #angsty

[oniiloma]

So I need honest opinions on my art work for a fanfic I'm writing on wattpad!!!

#smut #the mandolorian x reader #din djarin #the mandalorion spoilers #fanfic #oc

[blackmarketmummy]

All this talk about Din needing to adopt a certain little girl from Jakku inspired me to do a quick drabble. Obviously, I got carried away, so for your own amusement and consideration: dad!Din & foundling!Rey

Warnings: brief mentions of child trafficking, family fluff

• Boba has claimed the throne on Tatooine, and Din is laying low, avoiding Bo-Katan and other responsibilities involving Mandalore and the kriffing darksaber.

• He checks in with Cara, Greef, and Peli occasionally, seeing where he can help out, as a way of thanking them for helping him in his time of need.

• Fennec cleans up house, releases slaves, and comes across a young slave girl, Rey.

• None of the ex-slaves claim her as their kid, saying she's alone, an orphan.

• Fennec asks Boba what they should do with her, and he suggests she look for Din, knowing that the girl's background might hit a little close to home with him, but also could be a chance for Din to heal after having to let Grogu go.

• Unwillingly, Din adopts her after much bribing from Boba and Fennec: "She needs a home." "You wouldn't let a little kid just live their life on Tatooine alone, would you?" "What would your clan think if you ignored this foundling?"

• When Din stops by to visit with Cara and Greef in Nevarro, he has Rey with him.

• She always sits on his shoulders holding onto his helmet. Din had her promise to never lift it up because "it's important to me, ad'ika" and left it at that, and Rey never breaks her promises. She's had others betray her when she was sold into slavery, so she always promised herself to never break her promises. Din has been her protector for a few weeks now and gained her trust quickly when she quizzed him about Mandalorians and asked, "why do you wear that shiny helmet all the time?" Learning about honor, discipline, and compassion for the widowed and orphaned that the Creed emphasized was enough for her to trust Din with her life after being abandoned and sold like property.

• Walking through Nevarro, Din and Rey cross paths with a certain general and pilots flanking her (and of course Din doesn't keep up well with who the heroes of the galaxy look like -- hell, he didn't know who Boba Fett and Luke Skywalker were until Cara and Greef explained to him they were legends that he basically has on speed-dial now).

• He recognized one of the pilots, Blue, whom he encountered on the icy planet with the Frog Lady, and hoped to avoid an awkward "mAy ThE fOrCe Be WiTh YoU" encounter again, so he tried to haul ass through town.

• However, Rey had other ideas, and wanted to tell "the nice lady general" that she liked how her hair was styled and "Din, do you think she would show me how to make my hair swirly on the sides of my head?"

• Din tried to figure out a way to gently tell Rey that "the nice lady general" was probably too busy to explain hair techniques to a six year old, but the general must have overheard their discussion and walked in their direction.

• "Hey, Mandalorian!" The pilot exclaimed happily to Din, reaching out his hand for a shake, that Din unwillingly returned.

• "Oh, General! This is the Mando I was following a while ago that I told you about. How's your ship by the way?" Smiling up at the young girl on Din's shoulders, amused, he added, "and did you have another kid since I last saw you?"

• "Destroyed," Din flatly answered, "and uh - yeah, you could say that."

• "What's your name, little one?" the general sweetly asked the girl, who suddenly became shy, fidgeting with Din's cape underneath her.

• Din picked up on Rey's bashfulness and patted her leg lightly, "it's okay, ad'ika."

• "Rey," she quietly answered, "what's yours?"

• The general smiled kindly, stretching out her hand for Rey to shake, "it's Leia, and it's a pleasure to meet you and your father," winking at Din, who felt his face blush at the mention of his paternal relationship with Rey, and embarrassed at not realizing who the general was until now (Leia knew what she was doing, she enjoyed teasing people, a trait that Han loved to point out).

• Rey giggled as she shook General Leia's hand, picking up on her teasing. It looked as if Rey made a new friend who liked teasing her buir as much as she did.

• Clearing his throat, Din prompted Rey, "isn't there something you'd like to tell the general, ad'ika?"

• "How did you make your hair look like that? Could you show me and my buir how?" she excitedly asked Leia.

• Chuckling, Leia agreed, only if her buir would allow it, to which the Mandalorian shyly obliged and replied, "only if we aren't taking up your time, ma'am."

• Leia waved her hand to shush Din, shooed away the pilots, and insisted she could spare the time.

• Humbled, Din watched as the general sat with Rey as she braided and twisted her hair, noting how she effortlessly did it, and so he could help Rey learn to eventually do it herself.

• He listened to the general talk to Rey about her own child with long black hair.

• "He can be a grump like his father, but if you met him, I think you'd teach him how to open up and enjoy life more," to which Rey giggled, "he sounds like my buir. He's quiet and grumpy, too, especially when I wake him up each morning!"

• Laughing, Leia replied, "maybe our paths will cross again and you can meet my sweet Ben."

• Din didn't miss Rey's blush at that statement and could only groan at the thought that he signed up to not only be her guardian, but would have to be the one to explain the kriffing birds and bees to her when she was older.

• Kriff, he didn't know if he could handle all of that responsibility... especially after having to experience empty-nest syndrome since Grogu was picked up by the Jedi.

• But when he came to sit down near his ad'ika once the general finished braiding and pinning Rey's hair back, he saw the young girl smile so brightly, he realized...

• As long as he could provide a better life for her -- no matter the heartache he might experience in return -- it was worth it. If she could have that innocent joy that she wholeheartedly deserved, then he did his job well. As her buir.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #with this beskar i thee wed #the mandalorian spoilers #grogu #mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian season 2 #the mandalorion spoilers #baby yoda #rey skywalker #mandalorian au #star wars #star wars au #found family #adoption #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fanfic #mandalorian fanfic #dad!din #foundling!rey

[darthmaulification]

a hundred million sins | oc fanfic

A/N: so... it’s been a while... i’ve been stuck on all the other stuff i’ve been writing, but had a burst of inspo to finish this, which has been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute.

basically, this is part of the story for my mando oc, hen merrin. he’s... something, i’ll give ya that. (and by “something”, i mean not a good person). i don’t have a full thing for him yet, but this story is meant to be a snippet of one of the darkest moments in his life, so if anything seems unanswered/out-of-the-blue, feel free to ask about him. 😊

i know this isn’t my normal reader-insert content, but i hope it at least intrigues people. i may sound like a broken record, but i do hope to be back on my game soon, i’m just going through life atm. 

hope you enjoy! 💗

summary: hen puts a dog to sleep.

content: dark fic, angst, murder of a very specific ilk, mentions of sex, implied adultery/infidelity, violence, past tragedy

word count: 2,112

Hen looks at the puck in his palm, then back at the client, then back to the puck again.

“Him?” His voice crackles through the modulator like the last soundwaves from a dying radio. Sitting in front of him, his client tilts her head as if she took his hesitancy about the job as fear. He isn’t, but she doesn’t need to know either way. She’s not entitled to him. No one is, not anymore.

“You will get paid handsomely.” The Umbaran replies simply, her lifeless white eyes as cold as Hoth at midnight. She lifts a slender hand and Hen watches as she pushes a sizable stack of credits his way. Gunmetal Imperial credits, gilded wupiupi, misty Calamari Flan... far too much money for a single job.

Then again— Hen follows the Umbaran’s fingertips as they skim the edges of his newly acquired wealth— he isn’t surprised. A high price for a high risk job: To kill a Mandalorian is no easy task. Nor is it wise, but the stack of credits in front of him doesn’t have Hen complaining and dissuades any thought of backing out now.

“The second half of your pay awaits once you’ve... retrieved the quarry.” The Umbaran continues, and Hen doesn’t attempt to trick himself into believing that there’s an option to bring in the bounty alive. Mandalorians fight to survive. He just has to make sure this one doesn’t succeed.

Hen doesn’t acknowledge the woman, preferring to extend an arm and slide the credits into one of the packs he carries. Each clink feels like signing a death certificate, and when he pockets the puck it feels like closing the casket. The Umbaran dips her head, elegant, poised, as if she hadn’t just bought the death of another.

“A pleasure doing business with you, Mando.”

And she allows herself a single smile.

~

Sometimes Hen wonders what would happen if a Mand’alor was to be seated on the throne of Manda’yaim again. Particularly, he wonders if the half-dead planet were to become strong enough again that the consequences to his actions would actually pose a significant threat to his life. He’s able to skirt the law of the fragile government of the New Republic fairly easily, but there’s no star system he could hide in from the Mandalorians and their wrath. 

It wouldn’t really be too far-fetched, if the planet was returned to its former glory, that Hen would face titles like shabuir, dar’manda, hut’uun, demagolka... there’s more, surely, but his Mando’a has started to blur in his mind, washing away like distant memories. Deep down, that bothers him.

In all actuality, there’s nothing that would be able to bring Mandalore back from the dead, not after the Empire blew it to bits and proved to the galaxy that even the mighty fall. Too many emotions tie that place to its grave— humiliation, defeat, guilt, anger, so many more— and no amount of rebellion or revolution will pry it from its resting place.

Hen has never been an optimist, only a realist. If that makes him pessimistic, so be it.

If it means he’s abandoned his Creed...

So be it.

~

It only takes three rotation cycles to track the bounty to Canto Bight, to a bustling brothel in the heart of the city where two working women immediately cling to his arms. A slim Pantoran and an olive skinned human, both with near matching hazel eyes, that Hen had to admit were both visually striking. They coo and purr all the pretty little things they can think of, sweet nothings in an attempt to distract Hen from both his order of business and the vibroblade the dark-haired human was sneakily trying to slip from his belt.

Of course, they didn’t succeed, and the Pantoran ends up with a black eye while the human nurses a broken wrist. Hen doesn’t feel sorry, not even when they wail.

He enters the brothel, called The Blush, and the Togruta behind the counter looks up at him once before his eyes stay downcast until Hen enters the hallway to the backrooms. The dim lighting casts an amber glow onto the deep mahogany walls and dark carpets, for some painting the place erotic and for others a particular type of Hell.

Hen ignores the muffled noises of pleasure behind all the closed doors— high pitched squeals, guttural grunts, moans of all sorts— and follows the blinking puck to the last door, where the tracker starts to blink in rapid succession. Hen watches the tiny red light blink, watches until it starts going so fast it stays red.

He’s here. Behind this door. The only silent one.

Hen punches the keypad and the door swishes open with a static creak.

~

There’s never really a perfect time to apologize; too soon and it appears disingenuous, too late and it becomes meaningless. Two words whose worth are determined by time seems like a faulty way to go about things, so Hen never says them— Not even when he probably should.

There’s a lot he should apologize for, but the words are always strangled to death.

~

He stands in the doorway, unmoving, a pillar against the light from the hallway behind him. His shadow is cast in a long line that points straight to the man he’s come to kill.

A room's length away, his father slouches on a stained futon, wilted into the velvet cushions like a tree starved of water. His hands are limp, one palm rests on the curved hip of the Askajian woman next to him, the other on his lap. They are both asleep, both blissfully unaware. Briefly, Hen wonders what they might be dreaming about. He takes a single step in.

The dank smell of the room— sex, sweat, spice, something more that speaks of immortality— seeps past his helmet and curdles in his nostrils. He takes another step. The floor is littered with empty bottles, discarded clothing, burned out spice cigarette buds, and when Hen steps again the tip of his boot clinks on one of his father’s motun’bur.

He looks down, the familiarity of the chipped maroon paint brings with it memories of uj’alayi, his buire teaching him how to lace his cetare, other nuhur of a time long since past. In that maroon paint, that wizened beskar, Hen remembers too much to keep much of a clear mind anymore. Instead, he follows his steps closer and closer to the futon and the sleeping people and wills himself to find enough wrath within him to carry out the job.

Hen’s eyes glide to the glaring problem in the room: His mother is not an Askajian.

That’s enough to do it.

~

When Hen was young, barely past being an adiik, his mother gifts him his first true vibroblade, one to officially call his. It’s long and sleek, its ebony hilt polished so that it reflects light like oil. On the blade, she points to where his name is inscribed, in Mando’a script, and says, “So that your enemies know your name.”

Hen didn’t necessarily understand the sentiment, what enemies did he have? But after the Purge, after losing everything to the Empire (happy home, a childhood, good parents), he understood.

Enemies come from every corner. They come from invasion, desiring conquest and bloodshed. They ravage everything you hold dear and leave your life in tatters, a smattering of broken dreams, tears, and death. And your enemies know no boundaries, they will take and take and take...

Hen did his best to make sure as many Imps as possible felt his name.

~

It’s on the last step Hen takes to get to his father that the man wakes up, eyes screwed from sleep and drunken stupor. His light brown brows furrow, and he looks up at Hen, a hand raising to his head. Confusion flashes across his father’s face before anger sets in at being awoken from his slumber. Hen doesn’t care. He pulls his vibroblade from its sheath and his father watches.

Oh, he watches.

“What are y—Ergh!"

The first stab of the blade brings his father’s startled protest to a pained scream, sounding like a wild, squealing boar being flayed alive. Another swing, and the second pulls choked gasps from the man, and the third, a wet gurgle that rises to his throat.

Hen raises the blade, then plunges it down again— more garbled, shrieking wails. The fourth stab, another gurgle that spews blood. 

The fifth, a wheeze.

The sixth, nothing but screaming.

Hen keeps raising the blade, keeps bringing it down, keeps poking holes in his father’s flesh, flings more and more blood on the futon, the walls, his armor, the ceiling— Everywhere. He paints the room crimson like roses on a thorn bush, or the smattering of blush on flushed cheeks. The screaming reminds him of cicadas in spring.

His arm moves on autopilot, robotic and efficient and as automatic to him as breathing now isn’t to the dead man he’s mutilating with a blade.

54 stabs. That’s when Hen realizes he’s been the one screaming the whole time, and the vibroblade clatters to the floor. His fingers are stiff, shaking, his entire body both rigid and quivering, each muscle straining beneath his skin and pulling at the bone. A sheen of sweat covers his body, he can feel it pool at his temples, the low of his back, and underneath his arms. The ache settles in as the adrenaline starts to wear.

A shuffle of sheets and a low groan drag his eyes away from his dead father to the woman who spent the whole ordeal passed out in a drunken sleep. She blinks her eyes open and the bleariness fades at an impressive rate when she locks her eyes on Hen. Her pitch black pupils blow wide, and her painted lips part to scream, but no sound escapes.

“Don’t.” Hen’s able to push that single, low word through his teeth, and even though the Askajian’s eyes have darted to the floor where the knife lays, the sight of her murdered lover is enough for obedience. She gapes like a fish on land, fear overtaking her otherwise beautiful features, and she watches in silent horror as Hen picks up the blade.

“Why?” She manages to wheeze, and Hen almost admires how she hasn’t been reduced to petrified, wordless screams. Hen kneels, his muscles screaming in protest, and picks up his drenched vibroblade. As he rises, every bone in his body groans and he sheaths the blade. It’s then he realizes he’s used the one that’s engraved with his name.

“You’re not my mother.” Hen replies simply, and heaves his father’s corpse over his shoulder. The weight is a reminder of all his sin. Hen carries that, plus his own. The Askajian says nothing.

The silence swallows everything like a black hole consumes light, or how dark matter devours ships that fly too close in sublight. It’s quiet now, less adrenaline, and Hen carries away his father’s body to where his ship waits at the dock. 

Isn’t it always said that a child should be the one burying their parent? Hen supposes it’s true, and he doesn’t call himself a bounty hunter this time, but a pallbearer.

He finds that it doesn’t really bother him.

~

“Marvelous.” The Umbaran woman actually looks semi-impressed when Hen presents her the body, her eyes glimmering in spite of the mutilated, dirty, slightly decomposed man laid before her. She beckons the droid at her side to zip the body bag back up. Hen watches his father’s face disappear behind black plastic.

“After we’ve processed the remains, you will get the rest of your payment.” She says, turning to face Hen who has to crane his neck to look up at her. Still, she doesn’t smile and her expression is largely stony, but in her ice blue eyes Hen sees satisfaction. One of her slim white hands extends to Hen, the silver rings on her fingers sparkling in the light.

“It has been a pleasure.” She breathes, like the type you give a mourning family member at a wake, the type that proceeds a conciliatory hand on the shoulder, and the voice that says, "I'm so sorry for your loss.”

Except the Umbaran is only a client, this is no wake, and there is no gentle palm on Hen’s paldron, instead there’s a firm handshake that says, “Your job here is complete.”

When Hen gets the second half of his pay— more Imperial credits, more wupiupi, more Calamari Flan— each plink as they fall into his pockets sounds like the swing of a blade.

In his mind, he counts to 54.

~

mando’a translations

Mand’alor = sole ruler, leader of all Mandalorians

Manda’yaim = the planet Mandalore

shabuir = like “jerk” but much stronger, an extreme insult

dar’manda = the state of not being Mandalorian, having lost heritage and thus identity/soul

hut’uun = coward, worst possible insult

demagolka = someone who commits atrocities, a real-life monster, a war criminal

*motun’bur = thigh armor, the beskar that protects the upper leg

uj’alayi = uj cake, a staple mandalorian dessert

**buire = parents

cetare = boots

nuhur = good times

* (i believe this is a fan-made word/definition, so take it with a grain of salt) ** (as far as i know, there isn’t an official plural for “buir”, so i just made up this one)

#star wars #the mandalorian #mandalorion oc #mando oc #the great purge #oc fanfiction #oc fanfic #mandalore #canto bight