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decembermidnight · 8 months ago

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Beskar and Pearls

Summary: Wearing the luxurious gift the Mandalorian gave you while accompanying him on a business trip turns out to be a pleasurable torture.

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: no plot - just smut, 18+ MDNI, teasing in public, Dom!Din, sub!reader, possessive!Din, lots of dirty talk, Din being a sexy arrogant asshole, glove kink, masculinity kink, humiliation kink, hair pulling, unprotected rough sex, mentions of exhibitionism kink, multiple orgasms, multiple creampies (wtf is a refractory period), a hint of overstimulation

A/N: the most coherent thoughts I have while ovulating. I have no excuse. This is FILTHYYYY I hope you enjoy it! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!! Also a big thank you to @thefrogdalorian for making sure it's written in decent English and to @saradika-graphics for the perfect divider 💕

Masterlist - Read on Ao3

The Mandalorian has just landed his ship on Nevarro after spending an entire month catching quarries in the outer rim. He has been away most of the time, but he made sure he'd make up for it every time he came back, too proud and stubborn to admit with words that he missed you, but demonstrating it by spoiling you with luxurious gifts and his body.

You look at him in reverential adoration as he dresses in his armour – a blend of his Mandalorian heritage and the many trophies he acquired from his victims, dark red in colour and dented after many close encounters with death.

He's just finished strapping weapons everywhere on his marvellous body when he addresses you.

“Hey. Got this for you. Wear it. We’re going to the market, I have some business to attend to,” Mando says as he hands you a small drawstring pouch he was hiding in his utility belt.

You immediately open it and its content leaves you speechless. It’s the sexiest piece of underwear you’ve ever seen – an expensive-looking black lace thong with just a string of pearls meant to go between your pussy lips.

If he wants you to wear it while in Nevarro, a lawless planet full of dangerous bounty hunters, you will wear it under the shortest skirt you have. The mere thought of his eyes glued to your ass, hoping to get a glimpse of it while being vigilant of other men at the same time, makes your head spin. You let out an aroused sigh and look at him, impassive as always behind the dark visor.

“That should keep you busy,” Mando chuckles and tilts his helmet.

You immediately wear it along with that short, flowy dress that also happens to be his favourite one on you.

“Let me see it,” he says as his hands grab you by the waist. He brings you closer to him and immediately lifts your skirt. He kneels before you and lets out a satisfied hum when he sees the tempting way the pearls disappear into your slit. The Mandalorian lingers there, dark visor trained on that heavenly view as his gloved hands caress your thighs. The sharp contrast between the coarse leather and your delicate, soft skin gives you a thrill of pleasure. You guess – you hope – the trip won’t take long.

His chestplate rises and falls as he struggles to catch his breath and maintain his composure at the sight of your perfect cunt dressed in pearls. It’s incredible to see how something so dainty could turn out to be so perverse and sinful.

“Come on. Let’s go now,” he says as he stands up. Now at his full height, his imposing figure resumes towering over yours. You admire him in awe, taking in the broadness of his body and the way his armour magnificently highlights it.

He offers you his hand to descend the ramp and as soon as you start walking, you understand why he said that it would keep you busy. With every step that you take, the pearls pleasurably rub against your clit. You can feel yourself getting wet already. There's an aroused expression on your face that Mando does not miss.

"Are you enjoying it?" he asks teasingly.

"Yes," you answer and bite your lip.

"Good,” you can hear how pleased he is seeing you like that after you’ve barely taken a few steps out of the ship. You know the thought of you being so aroused in public while having to control yourself is making him hard. You decide to play his game, see where this leads.

Mando is walking right behind you, strutting proudly as he stalks you like a hunter follows its prey. You feel his gaze trained on your butt, so you accentuate the swaying of your hips to get more friction from the pearls and to seduce him even further, hoping to get a reaction from him.

"Shake your ass as much as you want, you're not getting anything until I'm done here. You're only getting this scum to see how pretty you are. I like it," he slaps your ass and chuckles. You bite your lip to muffle a whimper.

"See the way they're looking at you? If they dare even think of touching you, their dead body will touch the ground before they lay one finger on you," he whispers in your ear as he grabs your hand and positions it over his blaster.

"You are mine," he growls in your ear as he wraps his other hand around your waist. He pulls you close, until the flustered, naked skin of your back touches his cold beskar chest plate. A thrill of excitement traverses your whole body and goes straight between your legs.

No one would be so stupid to touch you, not when a Mandalorian is claiming you as his, not when you can feel his erection against your ass. The whole thing is making you light-headed with arousal, so much that you start to shamelessly rub your ass against his cock. His hand tightens its grasp around your waist as your head rolls back to rest on his shoulder. You sigh in his neck and his hand trails up and wraps around your throat.

"Behave now," the Mandalorian growls as you feel his fingers tightening their grasp, trying to restrain himself from giving into lust already.

“I want you,” you whisper in his neck.

“I know,” he replies confidently before releasing you. What an arrogant motherfucker. You want to make him so hard he’ll want to bring you back to the ship and fuck your brains out, putting his desire for you before his stupid pride and his business. You want him to surrender to his carnal instinct.

The more steps you take, the more desperate you become for relief from this agonising, yet pleasurable torture. The pearls are stimulating your clit mercilessly, without ever getting you close to an orgasm. Your cunt spasms and clenches and what's worse is that he knows. Mando has spent so long quietly studying his bounties that he can tell by the irregular way you're breathing that you're struggling with the sensation. You bet he's enjoying every second of it, smirking under the helmet.

Just before entering the market area, he pulls you closer to him one more time, making you gasp.

"Now be quiet. You wouldn't want to fuck up my business. Be a good girl," he whispers softly in your ear as you feel his hand on your lower belly—close, so close to where you want him the most. Maker, he’s rock hard. You can feel it. You can’t think of anything else when his erection is pressing against your ass and his arm is tightly wrapped around your waist. He lets you go and you enter the market area together.

You try to divert your attention on whatever item they’re selling in the stands but it’s mostly weapons and things for bounty hunters that you couldn’t care less about. You can feel your arousal starting to drip down your legs, making your inner thighs slippery. Your swollen clit is pulsing and begging for attention, but Mando has been clear - you’ll get nothing until I'm done here, and you know nothing could make him change your mind, unless you play your cards right.

He grabs a seat in a beat-up wooden booth, his legs spread wide due to the massive erection trapped in his pants. There is an undeniable air of confidence and arrogance to him when he sits like this, looking so imposing and authoritative. You wish you could just drop to your knees and please him in any way he wants.

"Be my good pretty whore and sit here," Mando invites you to sit on his thigh and you immediately comply. You're so damn wet, you can't keep your legs closed.

"Hmm? Sitting here like this with your legs spread open? Do you want everyone to see your pretty cunt? Better let them know to whom this belongs, don't you think?" he coos in your ear with his husky voice. He knows you're both perfectly concealed and no one could see what's going on under that table. He's doing that just to prove a point—that you belong to him.

You nod mindlessly as his hand cups your cunt and stays there, still, without moving.

"Mando. Mando I need–" you whisper in his neck in a trembling voice.

"Oh. I know," he says, pleased when he sees how flustered you're getting. "Not yet," he growls as one of his gloved fingers trails your slit. He stops right before your clit, making you whimper and grip his arm tight in response. You dig your nails in his flightsuit as he feels how unbelievably wet you are.

"Hey. Behave now," he whispers as a Rodian approaches the booth and takes a seat, greeting him with a nod of his head. He immediately hands Mando a puck.

You have no idea what they’re talking about – you can't focus on anything else apart from the way Mando’s gloved hand holds the puck. You look at his fingers with pure lust, thinking of them touching your clit, pumping inside your cunt, the coarse leather caressing your skin.

You let your hand trail on his inner thigh and he stays surprisingly calm, not flinching one bit as your fingertips slowly slide higher, until they finally meet his cock. He is so unbelievably hard, you feel him throbbing underneath your fingers as you trail them all over his length. The Mandalorian won't betray any emotion, which turns you on even more. He's perfectly calm and collected on the outside, but you bet he'd love to throw you on that table and bury himself in you.

As soon as the Rodian hands Mando a handful of credits as an advance, he leaves.

"Please. Please, I need you," you whisper in his neck.

"I'm not done here. Be patient."

The throbbing need between your legs causes you to ache so badly that you don’t notice another man has approached and taken a seat until he begins speaking with the Mandalorian.

They're speaking in a foreign language, and Mando’s interlocutor does not seem happy. Judging by their tones of voice and gestures, they appear to be negotiating the fee for Mando collecting a certain bounty that the man needs capturing and he is displeased that Mando commands a high price. You’ve learnt over the time you’ve spent with the Mandalorian that there's not much room for negotiation with him. He has leverage since he's regarded as being the best bounty hunter in the outer rim. The way he speaks is so confident, it makes you even wetter how he does not lose composure while the other man is basically yelling at him.

He starts running his thumb on the string of pearls digging in your slit, feeling how wet you are for him as he keeps talking to his client while you're sitting in his lap, doing nothing but looking pretty. You're his slut and he wants everyone to know it, but you have to act cool even as he teases you under the table. You have to control the way you breathe, you can't let even the smallest whimper out. Why is this so hot? Why is he so hot?

In the end, the man hands him a hefty amount of credits and rises from the table with a huff, muttering and cursing as he goes.

"Please, take me back to the ship and fuck me. I won't ask for anything else, please," you whisper sensually in the crook of his neck.

"I'm not done here," he tries to appear impassive, but as soon as you resume your touching between his legs, he jerks slightly. You smirk, satisfied.

"Mando…" you trace the outline of his cock with your fingers, feeling how hard his erection is while purring in his neck. His pants are thick, but as you stop right at the tip, drawing circles on it with your fingertips, you can feel the fabric getting slightly damp.

“You’re so hard…” you sigh sensually as you keep rubbing his cock. You hear a choked grunt from him, now that he can’t focus on his job anymore, now that he’s at the mercy of your teasing. You’re so tempting, acting so shameless in public, the thrill of someone noticing the two of you drives him insane and you know it. You’re finally getting your revenge. You can bet he's close to losing control. Mando is twitching in his pants, his breathing getting heavier and heavier...

"Fuck it." He grabs you by the arm and you rush out of the market and back to the ship.

The Mandalorian doesn't even wait for the ramp to close behind him to bend you over the first crate he finds, kicking your legs open with his feet and freeing his throbbing erection. His gloved hands run up your skirt and position themselves around your hips, keeping you steady for him as he slams into you all at once. He meets no resistance from your drenched cunt whatsoever, leaving you breathless as you exhale in a loud moan. You're crushed between the crate and his beskar body, pleasurably forced to take his thick cock. You're only able to let out ragged groans and clamp tightly around him as he finally gives it to you just like you wanted.

"You. Fucking whore. Couldn't wait for me to finish my business. Wanted this dick so much, hm? Are you happy now?!" his thrusts are furious and relentless, his hips crushing your body against the crate with a devastating force. The angle at which he's hitting you is deep, so deep that you can't even prop yourself up on your shaky elbows. You're just getting brutally fucked without dignity.

"You get so disobedient when you want this cock. Maybe I should just tie you up and gag you?"

You can't even mumble words, too absorbed by the feeling of his cock thrusting inside of you, so aroused at the idea of him using your body for his pleasure.

"You're so wet. Damn. It must have been such a torture, right? To be so wet and turned on? Hearing you beg like that made me so fucking hard. Feel it. Feel what you do to me," he rasps as he rails you deep and hard.

The way the pearls are rubbing against your clit and the perfect rhythm of his thrusts are driving you close to the edge already.

"Mando, Mando, I'm–" you can barely mumble as you helplessly drag your hands against the crate.

"Yeah. Come. Seems like it's the only thing that will make you obedient. You wanted it so much, you can have as many as you want today."

'Thank you, thank you, tha–" your blissful chant is abruptly cut as the orgasm takes control over your body. Your cunt clenches hard around his thick cock and your legs jerk uncontrollably, barely touching the ground as he keeps you still and never stops drilling into you as you ride your high. The pleasure is so intense, it leaves you breathless as your cunt keeps involuntarily spasming around him in aftershock. You're panting against the metal crate beneath you, overwhelmed and reduced to a trembling, feeble mess, the coldness of it is a relief against the hot, flustered skin of your body that won't stop begging for him.

"Is this what you wanted, hm? For me to stop everything I was doing to come here and take care of you? Needy girl. You desperately wanted attention, hm?"

You can only mumble in assent, feeling the way he takes out his rage on you.

"Bet you would've let me fuck you in a dirty fucking alley if I wanted to."

"Y-yes–" you reply in a breathy groan, drenching yourself at the mere thought.

"What a slut. What if someone heard you screaming like that? What if someone heard how wet this pussy is when I fuck it? Fuck, you're dripping!"

For a man who barely speaks in normal circumstances, he sure does like to run his mouth when he's buried deep inside of you.

"Yeah. I bet you'd like it if someone saw me fucking you like the slut that you are," he pants and you start whimpering and clamping around him at the idea.

"I knew it. You're such a whore. But you are mine, and I won't let anyone hear these pretty moans and see this perfect cunt. They belong to me. To me," he growls.

"Yes – yes. I fuck–ing b-belong to you," you repeat mindlessly.

"Does it get this much to get you this wet? Just a string of pretty pearls? Looking so fucking good. So fucking good. Are you enjoying it?"

"Yes, Mando!"

"Shit, you're so tight. You're making me come," he says in a broken voice. His thrusts get erratic, as does his breathing "This cunt is so perfect, so fucking perfect," he emphasises the very last word before bursting, spilling hot and wet inside of you in a ragged groan, whining at how good it feels. His muscles tense and he gets rigid behind you, his head rolling back in pleasure.

"Oh, fuck! You're so hot. Spill all of your cum inside of me. Like this, yes!" you cry and start touching your clit, so turned on at the sight and feeling of his orgasm.

The sounds he makes as he comes are the hottest ones you have ever heard. The infamous Mandalorian – stoic, imposing and menacing – is getting lost in the overwhelming pleasure you’re offering him. Your drenched, tight pussy is making that dangerous warrior crumble. You’re so aroused, you need more.

"Please, please don't stop fucking me!" you dare asking him.

"I won't," he grunts as he keeps burying his dick deep, so deep inside of you.

"Don't stop. Don't stop. Oh, fuck, I need you to fuck me harder, please!" you plead as you feel his cum starting to drip down your hole. "Maker, please!" you say as you start frantically slapping and rubbing your clit as you hear the obscene, sloppy sounds of his cock thrusting in and out of you, of his hips slamming against your ass.

"I won't stop. Fuck, I want more. I can't stop. You drive me fucking insane!" he growls, resembling a wild beast, completely overwhelmed by lust. You feel his cock still pulsing inside of you as you get even wetter.

"Look at this perfect cunt. You're so full of my cum, damn, you can't ever get enough of it, can you? Fucking cum slut. Look what you make me do. Just came inside of you but I can't stop fucking this perfect cunt. You want to drain me. Are you proud of yourself, hm? Making me so fucking hard in public and teasing me like the whore that you are."

"Fuck, yes, I'm your whore. Your slave. I'm so close, please–" you mutter deliriously while your fingers and the pearls are rubbing against your clit in a wet, nasty mess of your fluids and his cum. You come hard around him once again, strangling his spent, sensitive cock in your tight grasp and hear him grunting, his grip on your hips tightens and his whole body jerks, but he really can’t have enough.

"Yeah. Yeah. Come on my fucking cock, whore. Let me feel it." he encourages you, gritting those words between his teeth, fighting his own oversensitivity, so addicted to the way you feel around him.

He doesn't stop fucking you, not even after your orgasm. He keeps railing you relentlessly. You bring your hand to your mouth and suck your fingers, tasting the bitterness of his cum blended with the slightly salty taste of your fluids on your tongue. Its taste is addicting, the scent heady and intoxicating in the best way possible.

"You taste so good, Mando. We taste so good together," you drawl, overwhelmed by pleasure.

"Yeah, I bet we do," he grabs a handful of your hair and pulls it to lift your head up, giving it to you even harder, making your eyes roll back in your head. You are screaming, completely entranced by the way his cock is still pumping hard inside of you.

"So damn loud. You like being fucked like this, hm?"

He hits even harder from this angle, keeping you nice and still for him to use as he pleases. You're so busy screaming that you can't even reply to him.

"Yeah. Scream as loud as you want. Let me hear how much you want it. I like it."

You can feel his cum dripping down your legs with every thrust, hearing the sloppy, squelching sounds your bodies make. Mando can't even restrain himself anymore, he’s moaning and sighing at how much he's enjoying it. Your cunt is spasming around him, turned on at the way he sounds.

"You like it, hm? To reduce me like this?" he says in between thrusts.

The truth is that yes, you do. You love making the Mandalorian falter with your teasing, making him so desperate and boiling with lust, he has to leave business to fuck you hard, so hard that any coherent thought leaves your mind. You love it when you can feel the man under all that beskar, when he makes you feel like the most important and beautiful thing in the galaxy.

"Yeah, you do," he answers himself as he slows his rhythm, slipping out of you completely only to slowly bury himself inside of you to the hilt, enjoying the view and feeling of his cock entering into your cunt dripping with his cum.

You bite your lip to muffle your screams just to hear him moaning and sighing as he feels the welcoming warmth of your cunt.

“Mando. Mando, please,” you beg as you feel your legs impatiently shaking as his shaft rubs that perfect spot inside of you with each thrust.

“What?”

“Harder. Please?” you beg, subjugated by that perfect teasing.

He slams into you so deeply that you feel it pulsing against your cervix.

“What? Like this? Hm?” he says as he starts to jackhammer you.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you chant as you resume touching your clit.

“Greedy whore. Ready for another one? I'm not stopping.”

“Mmmm,” you can only reply as you feel another wave of overwhelming pleasure approaching.

You hear him panting as he gives you a few more violent, deep thrusts, driving you over the edge one more time.

“Yeah. Take it – fucking t-take–” he grunts when he feels your walls clenching around his cock, your orgasm pushing him over the edge, too.

A loud, violent snarl rips through his lips as he comes, filling you with his white, thick load once again. The grip of his hands around your hips turns to steel, your eyes roll up so high all you can see is pitch black as he keeps pumping his cock into you as you both ride your high. The feeling completely obliterates you, turning your body and mind into a helpless, exhausted mess.

A huge, satisfied grin forms on your face as you feel him slowly slip out of you and his cum starts dripping down your cunt and legs.

“Good work," he pants "now be a good girl and wait for me while I go back there. Don’t move one muscle and maybe we will pick up where we left off,” he says as he tucks his spent cock in his cum stained pants, not giving a shit about it, looking at the mess he made of you, disrupted and leaking with his seed. Wrecked, used, marked. His.

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letstalkaboutshtufff · 2 months ago

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Night on the town

Mandalorian x reader

Pairing: Din Djarin Mandalorian x reader

Warning: mentions of alcohol and some 18+ themes. No minors please!

Summary: Reader doesn’t listen to Mandos warnings about staying on the ship, then wakes up with something new and a bit troubling…

****************************************************

“Don’t leave the ship” those four words had been echoing in your head all week.

For months you’d never really minded following your Mandalorians orders, most planets he landed on for bounties were backwater scugholes whose inhabitants were low level creeps and criminals. You were perfectly fine staying within the safe compounds of the ship normally…but this planet was different.

Ceralis 3 was known for its bustling city full of high quality clothing stalls, the tastiest food establishments, musical performances, and oh how you couldn’t stop thinking about the renowned city square that’s lit up like starlight when the suns go down and everyone gathers to dance. You’d seen so many brochures advertising Ceralis 3 as a top vacation spot. And now you were finally here… stuck on a ship.

“Must be nice..” you mumble head resting flat on your arms watching the suns set from behind the glass of the ships viewport. The twinkling lights in the distant mocking you as if to say “here we are shining so bright and you’re stuck in a dark smelly cockpit”.

Ok so maybe that’s an exaggeration.. but still you were minutes away from going crazy with boredom.

“Don’t leave the ship” he said from the bottom of the ramp like he always does before leaving for a bounty.

Bounty hunting usually doesn’t take a week though… ugh

You lean up on your arms watching the twinkling lights of the city getting brighter. What was everyone doing now? Drinking? Dancing? Having 1000x more fun than you were right now??

You glance at the small data pad that Din gave you. When he was finished with a bounty he usually sent a quick message through.

You checked it again for the millionth time.

No new messages…

What if you just went for a quick look… no

No you couldn’t do that, din would be angry if he found out.

If he found out…

If…

You check the data pad again. Every time he sent a message it usually took him a decent amount of time to get back to the ship, he’d usually stop for supplies and whatnot.

So you had time even if he messaged you while you were out…

But could you break his trust so easily-

*pop pop pop*

Bright strands of fiery light shot up from the skyline in the shapes of flowers.

Well he didn’t need to know everything…

You sprung up practically jumping down the ladder to your small closet.

You smirked pulling out the one nice “out for a night on the town outfit” you owned. A stark contrast to the usual travel outfits you donned.

You applied some light makeup, grabbed your satchel and were off the ship in record time.

You took note of the pathway, and kept the data pad close to your hip in case that all to familiar beep sounded and you needed to rush back..

You gasped nearing a well lit archway taller than anything you’d seen before.

Giddy with excitement you ran in and were immediately overtaken by a rush of… well everything.

The streets were lit bright with lanterns, full of laughing and singing people.

The smells were making your mouth water wondering what on earth could smell so heavenly, and the buildings.. oh the absolutely breathtaking carvings. You didn’t know what to do first!

So you did the first thing that you saw, you ate from several stalls, bought a bunch of jewelry and souvenirs that you absolutely didn’t need, watched a few performances, drank some juice being served on a tray that you didn’t realize had alcohol… and then made your way to the famous square.

Oh and what a sight it was… like someone had the most dazzling dream and brought it to life. Everyone was jumping and dancing to live musicians. You wondered briefly if your Mandalorian could dance. Probably not.. but maybe if you really asked nicely he would.. or if you just dragged him..

You wished he was here.. you usually weren’t separated that long so it’s been a little lonely.

You sighed watching the couples dance and hold each other warmly. Some kissing some just gazing into each others eyes…

Ok more than a little lonely..

Maybe you should head back..

You sipped on your juice walking back in the direction of the ship.

What lovely juice, so sweet and spicy at the same time..

Mmm juicy juice so lovely

Hmm you peeked at a stall in passing, maybe you should get him something? Yeah that’s right, he wouldn’t be mad at you for leaving if you got him a gift!

Maybe you’d get some more juice while you shopped and then maybe——-

************************************************

Ugh why is my head pounding so bad…

You wince sitting up in the cot holding your head with a hand.

You blink slowly regaining your senses, the previous nights memories ending in a blur. You didn’t even remember coming back to the ship…

Ugh you were so stupid, the “juice” was alcohol and you’d had so many of them..

You panicked a bit not seeing your satchel on the hook but then calmed seeing it on the floor.

With a sigh you reached in pulling out the data pad and pressing the button.

*new message*

Oh kriff..

*Heading back. Shouldn’t take more than half a day.*

Half a day… wait when did he send that!?

The sky was so bright outside how long had you been asleep?? You looked down seeing you were still dressed up from last night.

I better change before he gets-

You stumble a bit feeling your leg let out a painful throb.

Oh no was I stupid and injured myself last night?

Quickly you pull up your clothing expecting a bruise or a cut or something but instead what awaited you was infinitely worse.

“Oh maker what have I done…”

You vaguely remember wanting to get something for Din but why on earth did your drunken state think that was a good idea!?!?

Kriff what did I do!?!?

You wobble quickly to the mirror to get a better look at the new addition to your outer thigh.

An abstract outline of your mandalorians helmet with his name cursively written under it.

Oh now you remembered.. bits and pieces as you stumbled into a tattoo stall and scribbled on a paper demanding it be the bestest bestie best tattoo ever, you even remember the guy asking if you wanted to wait until you were sober but then you cried until he did it.

Kill me now…

Ugh Why why why!? How was I going to explain this to Din!?

As if the universe was punishing you even more you heard a familiar beeping and gasped feeling the vibrations of the ships ramp moving.

Of kriffing course he would arrive now!

You quickly pull your clothing down and try to look as nonchalant as you can watching as Din walks up the ramp into the hull.

His bounty blocked your view of him but he was fighting and throwing some curses but Din is quick to throw him in the carbonite freezer.

You gulp as he finally turns around to regard you.

“Welcome back..” you tried to sound like your normal self. Key word being tried.

Din stood still for a moment then his helmet slowly shifted from your face down to your body then up again.

Oh yeah my outfit and makeup…

“You look…nice” he said a bit confused.

Maybe you could spin this…

“Oh well I um wanted to um surprise you… I really missed you Din..”

You hoped your nervousness would be taken as you just being embarrassed to dress up for him.

He tilted his helmet a bit, his stance relaxing ever so slightly and he took a couple steps in your direction.

“Yeah?”

Oh how easy men could be sometimes…

“Yeah” you smiled stepping forward too and wrapping your arms around him. “You were gone a while this time..”

He pulled back a bit to see you but his strong arms were still held firm around you.

“Yeah the bounty was more work than I originally anticipated, sorry you had to be alone so long.”

“It’s alright..you’re back now that’s all that matters…” you smile up into his visor knowing his eyes are deeply peering into yours just as lovingly.

His hands slide a bit and he grips you a bit tighter “if I knew you were gonna dress up just for me, I would’ve forgotten all about the bounty and rushed here..”

“Mm I’ll have to remember that for next time…” you lean up tilting your head to the side to kiss the bare skin just under his helmet. He breathes in, deep and crackley through the modulator.

Your hands reach up about to lift his helmet off when suddenly his head moves to the side.

“Din?” You frown a bit following his gaze then when you do your eyes widen a bit at what you see.

A beautifully beaded tote bag overflowing with items leaned against the wall, a strand of pearls strewn across it along with a shimmery scarf and a bottle of “juice”. Oh Kriff just how drunk did you get last night!?!?

“What’s that?”

“Oh um just some old stuff I pulled out when I was trying stuff on for you..”

He pulled away and you knew you had messed up.

“Din..?”

He approached the bag and knelt down. He picked up the bottle with one hand.

“And you just happened to have an alcohol that’s only produced on this planet in your storage?” His voice had completely shifted from gentle and loving to interrogative typical pre meeting me Mando.

“Well…”

He abruptly stood up with a sigh.

“You left the ship” he stated with a huff.

You bite your lip looking away from the intense stare.

“…”

“What’s the one thing I told you never to do?” You could tell he was angry but was trying to hold it back.

“…go against your orders..”

“Go against my orders and what did you do?”

“I left the ship… I’m sorry but I was so bored and lonely and I just…” maker could you sound any more pathetic and whiny.

He let out a huff of annoyance, “you put yourself in danger because you were bored?”

“Din..”

“You don’t know this planet, and I have a million enemies, I don’t tell you to stay on the ship for the hell of it” he bit out getting more frustrated.

“I… I know… I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking..”

You heard a sigh again and hesitantly looked up. His shoulder relaxed a bit his tone a bit softer but still plenty stern. “I can’t go after bounties and worry about you too..”

Well now you felt like absolutely shit

“Oh Din I’m so sorry, of course you can’t, shouldn’t actually. It was dumb and stupid and reckless and I promise I won’t leave again. No matter how tempting it is..”

He stood for a moment deciding you were sincere in your words, he held out a single arm motioning for you to come closer again,

You do and hug him muttering another apology.

“So you didn’t dress up for me huh..?”

Oh..

You peek up from his chest finding his gaze on yours,

“Well… not exactly but my first thought when I looked in the mirror was how I wished you were by my side to see me… does that count?”

He lets out a scoff and lowers his hands “No”

You pout

“But I know how you can make it up to me”.

His hands are back on you stroking your thighs kneeding them softly when all the sudden you yelp.

He pulls away shocked “what’s wrong?”

“Oh uh nothing just got caught up in the moment…”

His head tilts and boy for someone with a helmet on his expressions were clear as day.

“Wanna run that by me again?”

“I had a cramp?” You lamely ask.

Seconds of silence pass before his hands are reaching for the tips of your dress.

“Ah wait no!”

You jump back not ready now or ever for him to see your latest mistake.

He freezes, now that’s something you’d never done before.

“You hurt yourself didn’t you?” He crosses his arms.

“I did not..”

“Then what are you hiding?”

“….”

He sighs again loudly “you have three seconds to show me before I do it myself.”

Kriff…

You hesitate not knowing what to do.

“One”

Ugh what now!?

“Two”

Maybe you could lock yourself in the fresher…

“Three”

You make a dash for the open door but make it all of two steps before strong arms pull you back.

“Really?” He huffs annoyed.

“Din wait!”

“Just relax what’s the worst it could be?”

No way you couldn’t show him, you catch him off guard by fighting his hold.

“Hey stop that”

“Enough!” His bark cuts through you like a knife and you freeze.

He spins you around, his hands locked onto your arms.

“Din...” you plead but he won’t budge.

He maneuvers your hands into one of his while his other reaches for your dress. You can’t help but try one more time to evade him and use the one move he taught you in self defense,

Of course because he’s who he is all it buys you is three seconds before he has you sprawled over his knees.

How ironic… if only he knew how you’d fantasized about this exact position.

“You really wanna make things hard don’t you?”

“Din please you don’t understand! Just leave me alone-“ and just like that the delicate freshly tattooed skin was exposed to the cool air of the ship and his searing gaze.

Then it was silent..

“I-I didn’t mean to I got drunk by accident and then wanted to get you a gift and for some crazy reason I thought a tattoo would be a good idea and…and…and-“ your nervous ramblings continued until you suck in a sharp breath feeling soft fingers caress the area just around the tender area.

“You did this…for me?”

“W-well yeah…”

You try to turn your head to see him but it’s impossible in your condition.

He silently caresses the area around it as if he…wait no way!?

“Do… do you like it?” You asked hesitantly.

He let out a breath.

“Can’t say I hate it…”

Oh my maker

“R-really?” You question an eyebrow raised.

“Mm” you flinch a bit feeling his fingers trace over the sore area.

He pulled you up so you were straddling him facing his visor.

“Sorry I left the ship…” you say after a few moments of silence.

“Swear you won’t do that again..”

“I promise..”

“Are you angry with me?”

“Yes” he said without hesitation.

“Really? After all the trouble I went through getting you your gift” you smirk a bit wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

His hands gripped your thighs squeezing softly, “Yes…” you smiled knowing by his voice he was all talk. You already had him in the palm of your hand.

“Want me to make it up to you?” You whisper near the side of his helmet.

He makes some sort of hum through the helmet and you take that as a yes, you push him back a bit so the distance between you is closed, your core pressed against him deliciously.

His hands travelled around squeezing and caressing in the ways only he knew how you liked. You’re about to lift his helmet up so you could finally kiss him when he pauses his movements.

Ugh not again

“What’s wrong?”

“You were drunk…?”

Ah Kriff, why did I have to let that part slip out.

“Y-yes but just a bit…”

He looks at you in a no nonsense way,

“Ok maybe more than a bit but it really wasn’t my fault, I didn’t know the drinks had alcohol..”

He sighs

Man if I had a credit for everytime I made this man sigh…

“I know I know, it was dumb and reckless and I won’t do it again, can we go back to what we were doing please? Remember the tattoo I got for you?”

I push his helmet towards my thigh.

He lets out a little laugh, “alright alright I get it”

His thumb strokes it again, “it suits you”

You let out a laugh, “I think it suits you more…didn’t realize you were that type of guy…but honestly it’s growing on me too, he did a good job didn’t he?” You peer down admiring the details. Not realizing Dins fingers had froze.

“He?”

“….”

Oh Kriff

************************************************

I’ve been on a huge Mandalorian kick lately and had this little idea. Hope you enjoyed! Also please excuse the lazy editing❤️

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stardust-and-snickerdoodles · 4 months ago

Text

you're not in the dark; but far from the light pt. 1

fandom: The Mandalorian

pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

summary: After a bounty hunt gone wrong, Din must take care of your wounds and watch over your recovery. Things get dicey, buckle up!

tags/warnings: angst, injury, blood, fevers, hallucinations, hurt/comfort

word count: 2848

a/n: i've been writing on ao3 and suddenly remembered i have a tumblr. here you go.

That whole thing about your life flashing before your eyes before you die is bullshit.

You didn’t think you’d ever be in a position to make that conclusion, but considering you were working with the most fearsome bounty hunter in the galaxy, it wasn’t too far-fetched.

It was foolish to think that the two of you would get off scot-free, with the fact that the quarry you were hunting was a bounty hunter herself. Despite the considerable skill shared between you and Din, she’d managed to get the drop on you and now had you running on a wild goose chase around the galaxy. In fact, it had gotten to the point where even Din was wondering if she was worth it.

But then, just as it seemed you’d be chasing her around until the Empire came back to power, she holed up in a remote corner of a remote planet hardly occupied by anyone else. Part of you sensed that it may be a trap, but you were so eager to get this over with that you didn’t voice your concerns to Din. Perhaps if you had, you wouldn’t be in this mess.

Now, Din is crouched behind a large boulder with you, engaged in what seems to be a never-ending exchange of blaster shots.

“We can’t do this forever,” you shout to him over the noise.

Din lets out a grunt of agreement as he rises to fire off another shot. “Any ideas?”

You breathe out a heavy rush of air and rack your mind. “Alright,” you start, tapping a finger against your blaster anxiously, “I’m gonna run out there and draw her fire. After that, you go around and get an angle behind her. Hopefully she won’t notice you with me distracting her.”

Din shakes his head. “Absolutely not,” he insists, his voice as harsh as it can be through his helmet’s modulator. “If anyone’s running into the line of fire, it’s going to be me.”

“I’m a smaller target,” you counter, trying to match his persistence. You rise to fire off a few quick shots in the direction of the quarry before sinking down again. “I’m faster and I can get to cover more easily.”

Din is silent as he considers this. He knows you’re right; he just doesn’t want to admit it. Finally, he gives you the briefest of nods. “You get to cover as fast as you can, okay?” Is that a hint of worry tinting his voice?

You nod back. You have no desire to be shot today. “On my count,” you say back. “One, two, three!”

If perhaps you had been listening instead of discussing your plans with Din, you would’ve noticed that the opposing blaster fire had stopped in the middle of your conversation. Or if you’d waited another few seconds, the quarry would’ve come right to your hiding spot as she’d been planning to do. If you hadn’t been distracting Din with your talk of strategy, maybe he would’ve heard the approaching footsteps.

Instead, you stand and race out into the open clearing, only to come face-to-face with your quarry. Before you can even be surprised, she’s drawn a long blade from a sheath on her thigh and sunk it into your abdomen.

Your knees have hardly hit the ground before Din fires off three shots into the quarry’s chest. In tandem, both you and the quarry fall to the ground limply. The blade is still embedded in your torso, blood leaking sluggishly from around it. Your breath comes out in quick, short bursts.

The adrenaline stops you from feeling most of the pain, but it still hurts like hell. Now is when you imagine life might flash before your eyes, since it really does feel like you’re dying.

Instead, you find yourself watching the sky disappear behind Din’s helmet. The sun bounces off the shiny metal and nearly blinds you.

“Y/N?” Din’s voice is panicked and rushed as he slides to his knees next to you.

You say his name in a small whimper, hands grasping for anything to hold on to. Eventually they find purchase on a bit of fabric under his chestplate, and you try desperately to pull him closer to you.

“Dank farrik,” Din murmurs as he notes the blade still sticking out of you. “I’m so sorry, cyar’ika, this is going to hurt.”

You don’t even have time to ask what he means before Din’s hands are on you, applying heavy pressure around the wound. You let out a gut-wrenching cry as you see stars, the pain suddenly overwhelming. Your head spins as you weakly scrabble against his hands, trying to relieve the pressure.

“Ni ceta, ni ceta,” Din’s voice is broken but you hardly hear him over the ringing in your ears.

You beg for him to stop, the pain overpowering your rationality. If you were lucid and comfortable, you would’ve understood how vital his actions were. Right now, though, all you know is that what he’s doing is hurting you, and you want it to stop.

Din is hardly holding it together as it is, but hearing your agonized cries is almost enough to do him in. On the one hand, he desperately hopes that you remain conscious so he could assure himself of your survival. On the other, he wants nothing more than for you to pass out so he doesn’t have to hear you beg anymore.

“Cyar’ika, I need you to hold pressure for me,” Din says, trying to pull himself together.

“No, please,” you plead, “it hurts.”

“I know, my love, I know. But I need to stabilize the wound so we can get back to the ship. I can’t do that with my hands here.” Din looks at you intently from under the visor, hoping to convey his desperation even to your pain-addled mind.

“Can’t you just take it out?” You whimper.

Din shakes his head as a wave of anxiety consumes him. Usually, you’re good with this type of thing, injuries and the like. It isn’t like you to consider taking out a penetrating object without the proper supplies. He knows the pain must be affecting you more than he initially thought. “You’d bleed out. We have to wait to get back to the Crest.”

His words seem to get through to you because eventually you suck in as deep a breath you can muster and lay your hands over his.

“Hold tight, I know it hurts. But you need to hold it as hard as you can.”

You nod and press down, suppressing another strangled cry.

“Good girl,” Din whispers as he reaches for the medpack in his bag. He opens it and is grateful he doesn’t have to hide the disappointment on his face when he notices its sparseness. Fortunately, there’s just enough gauze that he can stabilize the knife, and he knows there is more aboard the Crest.

Instructing you to remove your hands, he pads the sides of the blade with rolls of gauze before wrapping around them with another. He tries to dissociate from your pained cries as he manipulates your torso to wrap the gauze.

“Time to go, love,” he says, cupping your cheek with a gloved hand. Your eyes are half-lidded and Din knows that you’re running out of time. He needs to get this blade out and close the wound fast.

With his heart in his throat, Din reaches under you to cradle you in his arms. You let out the most heartrending scream yet as he lifts you. With each quick step Din takes, the pain blossoms throughout your abdomen.

“Stay with me, cyar’ika,” Din murmurs as he finally approaches the ramp to the Crest.

“’M right here,” you slur, blood loss making you feel lightheaded and airy.

“Good, that’s good,” Din reassures, more to himself than to you. He sets you down on your cot in the cargo hold, being careful not to jostle your wound more than necessary. He tries not to feel so anxious when you hardly make a noise to register the movement. “I’m just going to get some supplies; you hang in there.”

“M’kay,” you murmur, barely even recognizing what you’re agreeing to. Your eyes slip closed for a moment before you remember that you’re supposed to be awake. Wait, are you supposed to be awake? It would be so nice to sleep… But Din. Where’s Din? “Din?” You call out, eyes suddenly wide with panic. “Din!” you cry and the pain reappears in your abdomen.

Heavy footsteps approach you quickly and you try to turn to see who’s coming but the pain prevents movement. “What is it?” Din’s voice is a welcome relief.

You let out a long rush of breath. “I thought you left me,” you whisper.

“I told you I was getting supplies,” Din says, doing his best to keep the worry out of his voice at your forgetfulness.

“Right,” you nod slightly, the memory slowly coming back to you. “Din?”

“Yes?” Din replies as he sets up supplies to remove the blade from your abdomen.

“Did we get the quarry?”

“Yes, love,” Din takes a moment to cradle your cheek in his hand again, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. You notice he’s removed his gloves and can’t help but lean into his soft touch just a bit. “Don’t worry about that anymore. Let’s just focus on you.”

You nod your agreement as best you can.

Din talks to you in a gentle voice as he goes about ensuring he has everything he needs: more gauze, bacta spray, antiseptic, water for you to drink. He sets the cauterizer aside just in case, but prays that his own less-than-stellar suturing skills will satisfy. With slow and careful movements, he snips through the gauze around your abdomen to clear the field. Once he can no longer delay the inevitable, he looks at you through the visor of his helmet. “I need to remove the blade now, my love.”

You nod again, watching as his hands settle around the handle of the knife. “I trust you,” you murmur, meeting the approximate location of his eyes behind the helmet.

Nothing could have prepared Din for the blood-curdling scream you release as he extracts the blade. He works quickly to pack the wound, which now rushes with fresh blood. Before he’s even finished, your head lolls and your eyes drift shut.

Din panics for a brief moment, reaching with one hand to wrap around your wrist and feels for your pulse. It’s weak, but there, and Din goes back to treating your wound.

…

You wake only a few minutes later to find Din applying a bacta spray to your now barely bleeding abdomen. The feeling is warm and tingly as your frayed cells attempt to knit themselves together. “Din,” you mumble, eyes still half closed.

Din’s head shoots up and he puts the spray aside. “Y/N,” he breathes, your name like a prayer on his lips. “I stitched you up. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you reply honestly. The pain is diminished now, and you feel grateful that you’ve missed the suturing, as it’s always made you uncomfortable.

“Good.” Din’s shoulders relax as some of the tension leaves his body. You’re nowhere near out of the woods yet, but at least you’re not bleeding out anymore. “It looks like the knife missed anything vital but it’s still a fairly sizeable wound. I’ll need to keep a close eye on it.”

You reach up toward him but with the confusion and the blood loss, you have no sense of direction. Din senses your desire though and captures your hand in his own. Your fingers are cold in his warm palms. “Thank you,” you murmur.

Din leans down and rests his helmet against your forehead. “Sleep now, cyar’ika. I’m right here.”

…

The next time you wake, it’s to Din holding a cup of broth beside you. He helps you sit up and gently coaxes you to take a few sips, insisting that you need to regain your strength. You manage to swallow down a bit, but the pain prevents you from staying upright for long. He reassures you that you can try again later.

The next three days pass in quick flashes of wakefulness. Each time, Din is there, changing your dressings or offering you more broth. By the morning of the third day, you almost feel a bit of your strength returning, and even manage to finish the whole cup of broth.

Unfortunately, when it rains, it pours.

…

It’s unbearably cold when you wake in the middle of the fourth night. Your entire body is wracked with shivers and your teeth chatter against each other uncomfortably.

Din is by your side in an instant, pressing a bare hand to your forehead. “Dank farrik,” he grumbles, rushing to retrieve the medpack.

“Din,” you slur as he returns. “’M so cold.”

“I know,” Din replies, hastily ripping open the medpack. “You have a fever. I’m guessing your wound is infected.”

“Oh,” is all you can manage to reply before you drift back off into a restless sleep.

…

When you come to again there are voices in the ship. One sounds vaguely like your mother. She’s urging you to wake up.

“I’m awake,” you grumble, trying to swat away the bees that are crawling around your face. “Leave me ‘lone. Wan’ sleep.”

“Cyar’ika,” your mother says, “you’re dreaming. You’re safe. I’m here.”

You never knew your mother could speak Mando’a.

For a while, the bees don’t let you fall back asleep. You want to reach out and swat them away but someone holds a firm grip on your wrists.

“Get the bees ‘way,” you whine, pulling weakly against their hold.

“Shh,” your mother reassures. “You were hurting yourself. I have you.”

The other voices are all jumbled and you can’t make out anything in particular. Everything feels hazy and unfamiliar. The only thing that comes through semi-clearly is the burning ache in your stomach.

…

A while later, something cold rests on your forehead and you reach to remove it. It’s uncomfortable and you’re already cold enough.

“Leave that,” one of the voices murmurs. You think it may be your mother again, but she sounds like a man. Your hand falls from your face and you drift off again.

…

There is an ocean in your head and in your ears and behind your eyes and you think it might be nice to go take a swim in it. It would be so nice and cool.

…

When lucidity finally claims you again, it is with the sudden realization that you’re hardly dressed. You’re still clothed in a pair of shorts and a tank top, but it’s definitely not what you wore when you were injured. You feel reassured by the fact that there is a thin blanket covering you, but you question the change of dress anyway.

“Y/N?” Din’s voice comes from close beside you. “Are you with me?”

“Why am I naked?” you mumble by way of response.

“You had a very high fever from the infection. I had to cool you off quickly.”

You peek open your eyes slightly to see the Mandalorian sitting next to you on the floor of the cargo hold. “Am I gonna be okay?” you whisper.

Din squeezes your hand in his. “Yes, my love. Your fever broke last night and the infection seems to be calming down.”

“How long was I out?”

Din is silent for a long moment. You figure it must have been bad if he’s like this. “Three days,” he finally replies. You can hear the tiredness in his voice.

Silence stretches between you, the weight of his words hanging in the air. “Have you slept?” you ask.

Din huffs out a laugh. Leave it to you to be concerned about his wellbeing while you’re recovering from a stab wound. “I’m okay, cyar’ika. I can sleep now knowing you are on the mend.”

You hesitate to speak as he moves to rise from your side, but the feeling of his hand leaving yours is too much to bear. “Lay with me?” you ask shyly.

Din looks down at you and, not for the first time, you wish you could see his expression. Before you can apologize or overthink your request, he crouches back down. “Not here,” he murmurs, before reaching under you to carry you to his own bunk. You nuzzle yourself against his chest and notice the absence of his beskar armor.

He lays you down gently on the bed first, leaving enough room for himself. “Close your eyes,” he murmurs and you comply. You hear the familiar hissing sound of his helmet releasing, before the warmth of his body is behind you. He fits snugly around you, one arm resting across your waist but being careful to avoid your wound.

You let out a sigh of satisfaction, feeling secure in his hold.

“Rest, cyar’ika,” he says, chest rumbling against your back. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

>>>

part 2

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pascalsbby · 1 year ago

Text

WARNINGS: MDNI (18+), SMUT: fem! unless stated or requested otherwise. Writing about it does not imply endorsement.

Notes: please feel free to send me requests <3

@sscorpiiio is my non-writing blog!

MASTER LISTS - Series

*CARNAL : dark!stalker!dbf! joel

*The Devil & His Brother : joel x tommy x

*Hot Single Dad of The Neighborhood : joel

ONE-SHOTS, misc.

little bunny : javier

people talk : dbf! joel

“Truth is, he’d been waiting for your mouth to form his name all day. He knew you’d be here, always were on the fourth regardless of what boy you were running around with or what was happening in college. This time you were here for good. Or for a while, until your daddy caught on to your problem.”

come on in, sweetheart : joel

Joel was never patient when it came to pulling you through his front door- now especially, considering he’s already made a mess in his jeans because of you.

You find yourself bent over Whiskey’s knee after a night out with friends. Yes, he was a gentleman… but he expected you to be a good girl, too.

XTRAS

pink banner by @mewryn

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beyondspaceandstars · 2 years ago

Note

Hey babes, can you do a Mando x reader where the reader is a bounty hunter and leaves the ship to complete a mission and is only supposed to be gone a few hours but they’re gone all night and Din starts to panic and the next morning they show up slightly injured sand Din completely loses it and he was so scared then feels guilty? (fluff and ANGST) (sorry this is long!)

Safe With You

Relationship: Din Djarin x Reader

Warnings: fluff and angst, as ordered

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Thank you so so much for requesting!! I haven’t written for the Mandalorian in so long, it feels so great to do again. And the new season was wonderful, I loved the ending so much, so thank you for requesting this fluffy, angsty thing! (P.S. I am very aware of the fact that we just learned the mandalorian’s first name is not actually his first name however, I am a woman who is set in her ways and this was written before finding that fact out. He’s "Din" throughout this, I’m sorry.)

Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"You’re sure you’re going to be okay?" He asked you for what felt like the millionth time. You had to force yourself to stop rolling your eyes as you finished packing your supplies.

When you came back to the make-shift base you two had set up and told Din you picked up an easy job while in town, you had expected him to maybe ask a couple of questions, just so he knew where you’d be. What you hadn’t expected was for him to practically pester you. Not to mention, he’d already offered to come with about a dozen times now.

"Honey, I was working alone way before I ever met you," you replied, "I think I’m going to be able to handle myself."

He sighed. "I know, but this planet… Can you at least tell me what the job is?"

You shook your head. "I was paid extra for my discretion and the last thing we need is to lose a couple of credits, right? Besides, there’s worse in the galaxy, I’m sure of it. It’ll be fine, I’ll be back before you know it."

Din peaked up at the dimming sky. It would be getting dark soon.

"This still doesn’t feel right to me. Can you be back before nightfall?" He asked.

You shrugged. "Maybe." You felt his hard stare from behind his helmet. You sighed. "I’ll try."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

****

When you two make promises, you kept them. There were no if ands or buts about it. You both had demanding, dangerous lives, and promises were a foundation you thrived on. It kept you whole, loyal.

So, when night fell on the planet and the only thing he could make out was the fluttering nocturnal bugs, Din grew worried beyond belief. The night was ticking on and he was still alone. You had promised. He shouldn’t have this worry in him right now. He should be holding you tight, hearing you give a recap of the job while you two lay snuggled up, slowly drifting off to sleep.

He should be listening to your dream about what you’d want to use the credits for. Realistically, you always put it toward food and medical aid, but he knew you liked to save just some to the side for when you two found little markets throughout your journeys. You liked buying textiles for crafts in your downtime, jewelry from the local women…

Din was losing his mind. His head spun with thoughts and worries about you. Unable to do much else, he grabbed some supplies and made his way back into town, hoping on the off chance he’d be able to find whoever offered you the job. He decided he’d do whatever was necessary to get them to tell him where you were. He didn’t care what it would take or who he’d have to hurt.

This was you. His other half. His adorable, fearless, bright, charming, funny, caring significant other. And now you were gone…

Well, everyone was gone. In the pitch black of the night, just the faint hint of stars now guiding his path, Din found the town to be completely closed up for the night. It was a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the afternoon. It was like everyone just up and left but he knew better than that.

Most of the dusty buildings were used as shops, he remembered, but the flickering glow from some windows on the taller buildings points him toward some of the residents.

Din didn’t hesitate to knock on some doors. It would’ve been more powerful had it ended up working. He pounded on them. Kicked. Yelled. But all of his fits fell on deaf ears. He had half the mind to start breaking in through windows and backdoors but he had to reel himself back. It would do neither of you any good if he was restrained.

When it was growing more and more evident no one in the town would cater to him, Din forced himself to give up. He had to put some faith in you, he knew that. You were incredibly skilled—almost as much as him—and if you weren’t worried about something, he should be trusting of that.

And yet, he couldn’t help himself. Worry and defeat overcame him as he made his way back to where you two were staying. Din decided he’d make himself comfortable and then just wait for you to come back. Surely, that wouldn’t be so bad. He could keep himself awake. You’d probably be back any minute, he tried telling himself. It’d be fine. It’d be easy, right?

Nope. Wrong. So very wrong. Din only realized how foolish he had been when he felt a hint of warmth on his body and light trying to break through the visor of his helmet. Slowly, he blinked his eyes open, forcing himself awake.

It was morning. The next day. It was the morning of the next day…and he was alone. The realization hit Din like a ton of bricks. He shot up from his slouched position, and a new kind of worry came over him. Not only had he fallen asleep, but he had also done so without you, and it still didn’t appear like you were here. Worry shifted into guilty. He thought was going to be sick—

"Over here, darling." Your voice rang out in a scratchy tone from behind Din. He whipped his head around and your slumped, exhausted form came into focus. You were sitting in just your undergarments next to the nearby, splashing water over what appeared to be fresh wounds. A stack of wraps and aid supplies sat next to you. Most of your clothes were tossed to the side and turning brown from dried blood. Din felt every part of him seize up.

"Cyra’ika, what…" Din’s throat felt like it was on fire as he slowly stepped toward you. He knew he should’ve rushed to your side, gave you all the attention and care you absolutely needed, but he had never seen you in this state before. "What happened?"

You shrugged. "Mission was a little bit rougher than anticipate but don’t worry, I finished it and we were paid."

You had the nerve to flash a smirk at him. Din thought he was about to lose it all over again, maybe even worse, as he had the previous night.

"I’m not worried about the funds," he snapped. His sudden and typically unusual harsh tone made you flinch but he didn’t seem to care. "You’re… You’re bleeding. You’re pale. Oh my… You need— We need—,"

"To calm down," you snapped back. "We need to calm down. Honey, I’m okay, really. It was just a bit more difficult than the employer had made it out to be. That was probably my fault, I guess I didn’t ask the right questions, but it’s alright. Brought them in warm and everything. It just took slightly longer than anticipated."

Din groaned. "You said you’d be back by nightfall."

"Well, that didn’t happen."

"I’m very aware that that didn’t happen."

You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back onto your injuries. You patted one of the wounds dry and began trying to wrap it gently but firmly. Every movement made you flinch. "

"I don’t understand what the big fuss is about," you muttered. "I still returned and the mission was complete. What’s the big deal?"

"The big deal is I thought you were dead," Din replied harshly.

"Well, I’m not!" You yelled back, your own fuse nearly at its end. But losing your temper wasn’t the smartest idea you realized as a sharp pain tore through your side. You let out a frightened yelp. You had expected bruises but the one that covered more torso was a ridiculous one.

"Cyra’ika…" Din sighed as he rushed to kneel at your side. He inspected the bruised skin you were gripping. "You need to rest. Let me bandage the rest."

"No, I’m fine," you gritted. Your anger still simmered within you despite Din’s gentle words.

"No, you’re not," he replied. "And… And I’m sorry for being upset with you instead of helping." He pulled at the wrap you were holding in your hands. You forced yourself to give in. You leaned into his touch as he finished drying your wounds and began bandaging them.

"I tried coming back by nightfall," you murmured. "I really did but it was harder than I intended."

"I don’t doubt that for a second," Din said. "You promised and we try to keep our promises but I was… I was so scared." His helmet-distorted voice cracked slightly and that was more painful than any wound some bounty could ever inflict upon you.

"I was scared, too," you admitted, "but I didn’t want to make a big deal of it because I’m finally back here, safe, with you. That’s all that matters." Slowly, you raised a bruised hand to his helmet. You wanted nothing more than to cup his face and promise him you were okay but you knew this was as close as you were going to get.

"You’re right," he agreed, "and that’s what I’m trying to remind myself as I wrap your injuries."

You shook your head. "They’re not that bad, really. I’m sure you’ve had worse."

"This isn’t about me."

"Okay," you sighed. "But the next time you come back all bruised and beaten, I get to reprimand you."

Din hummed. "Maybe we should just start taking jobs together."

"Yeah?" You chuckled. "Wanna be my partner in crime?"

"I think I just want to be wherever you are."

"Good because I want you there with me," you said with a wide smile creeping up on your face. You knew if you saw Din’s face he would be blushing. "Hey, do you think one day we’ll be able to leave all this behind and just live a…normal life together?"

Din’s focus stayed on the bandages. "Is that what you would want?"

"Of course," you replied with no hesitation.

"Then, yes." Din nodded. "I’ll make sure of it."

A good kind of warmth spread throughout your face and down your body. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Din responded. "Always."

335 notes · View notes

stardustdreams-andcaffeine · 2 years ago

Text

Reluctant Protector | Din Djarin

Part 1 of 2

Din Djarin x Fem!reader

Summary: After being abandoned as a child, you grew up working for one of the most prolific crime lords in the galaxy in order to survive. It all comes crashing down as a split second decision has the Mandalorian hunting you. As it turns out, your hunter might be the only one who can save you. After all, the lines between predator and prey have always been blurred.

Warnings: angst (what's new), mild language, panic attack, violence, fluff, mentions of human trafficking (brief), Mando being a fool in love, adult themes throughout, happy ending (again, what's new)

A/N: This one was from the request that I accidentally deleted (i'm so mad at myself), but it was RIGHT up my alley lol. I hope my sweet anonymous finds this and I hope it is everything you wanted and more 🤍 ALSO! I got sooo carried away so it's a two-parter for ease of reading. You can find part 2 below!

Part 2

You never should have met the Mandalorian Bounty Hunter.

You never should have left the comfort of your home planet as a child. You never should have known anything besides the warmth of your mother's arms. It does not make sense that someone like you would meet someone like him. It should not have been possible, not in a million sun cycles.

So how did your story and the Mandalorian's tangle? How did ‘never’ get overcome so easily, so swiftly?

The answer is rather simple. Anything that never should have been was thrown from impossible to possible the night your parents left on a date night when you were seven years old.

And never came back.

|||

You remembered everything from that night.

You remembered the way the rain pattered against the large window in the common room of your cozy home. You remembered the spread of stars peeking out from behind the rain clouds, ready to shine their light upon the newly-brought night. You remembered everything from that night, including the look upon your father's face when he said goodbye.

You were too young to understand it then, too little to catch the hint of despair and shred of desperation as he ushered your emotionless mother out of the front door.

"Be back before bedtime, mama! You have to finish that story you started last night," Your little voice rang out, a smile spread on your lips.

Your mother, almost numb, did not respond. Strange, she always did.

Noticing your growing frown, your father smiled, but it did not reach his eyes, "Goodbye, little one. We'll be back before you know it"

"Have a good night," You called back, already humming to yourself as you played with the toys your father had spilled out in a hurry before you, "Love you lots!"

You did not even glance up as the door shut, did not even seem to notice that, for the first time, your parents did not say they loved you too. Looking back, it was hard to fathom you had missed all of the signs. But you were just a kid, a kid. How could you have known? How could you have guessed?

How were you to predict that your parents would not walk back through that door?

When they did not make it back in time to say goodnight, you hadn't thought much about it. When you woke up and they still had not returned, confusion began to ring within your young, innocent soul. For the first day, you lost the worry to the joy that you did not have to go to lessons today. You ate what you wanted and played for as long as you liked, but when night came once more, you wondered when mama would return to finish her story.

The food ran out a week later, and it would only be a few more days until you would find out why exactly your parents had not returned.

Your small fingers worked anxiously on the drawing before you. It was all you could do not to burst into tears. Your mother and father were still not back, and you were hungry. You knew you'd have to go into town soon, but you had no money and no adults to protect you.

What had happened to mama and papa, you wondered? Were they hurt? Were they...were they dead?

That was when the front door opened for the first time in a week and a half, and your life changed forever.

You gasped as the door swung open, hope flooding your small being. You jumped to your feet swiftly and, with a bright smile upon your lips, sprinted blindly towards the man who had just walked through the door.

"Papa! I'm so-"

Your words died as you skidded to a halt before the looming Zeltron male before you. This wasn't your father, and your mother was nowhere near him. Taking a hesitant step back, your bottom lip began to tremble.

"Who are you?" You whispered, your small hands shaking and your youthful voice higher-pitched than normal. The magenta-skinned male tilted his head down at you, seeming to examine you closely for a moment.

"Vince Hanon," He replied, his voice smooth and flooded with calculation, "Your father owed me a great debt."

That was when you noticed the towering goons behind Vince, strapped to the teeth with blasters and blades alike. Your eyes widened a fraction before anger boiled through your blood. They hurt your parents, they were the reason mama hadn't come home.

Swifter than Vince or his men could predict, you shot to the side and grabbed one of the long-forgotten toys along the ground and hurled it at the tall Zeltron.

To your dismay, he caught it with ease.

A smirk danced on his face as he glanced at the toy and then at you with what seemed to be mirth. Without a word, his guards stalked forward, one pulling a pair of metal cuffs as he neared you. Surprisingly, Vince held out a single hand, stopping all movements of his men.

"Sir?" One asked, glancing back at him, "The next shipment of children leaves soon. If she is to join, we should-"

"Do not give this one to the Trade," Vince ordered, walking past his men and up to you. Ever so slowly, he knelt before you, "She is young enough to learn, and strong enough to survive."

"Survive what?" You blurted, your heart pounding in your chest, "What's the Trade? What are you going to do with me?"

Vince laughed deeply before you, "So many questions, child. You'll have your answers."

He stood before you, extending down a purple hand, "Come, I'm sure you're hungry."

And so, with no other choice, you took the strange man's hand and left.

Vince never lied to you. He told you the moment you left your home that your father had lost everything trying to pay back the debt he owed Vince. With nothing left to give but his only child, he had offered you up for the child slave trade.

For reasons you would never truly come to know, Vince did not trade you. In fact, he traded no other child after that night.

He informed you that he was the head of a group of people who did bad things for good reasons and rewards. It wouldn't be for another couple years until you understood that meant he was a Crime Lord. What he was doing was wrong, what he was training you to do was wrong.

But you were a kid, and you did what you had to do to survive.

You're not a kid anymore.

|||

Present Day

The barely-used knife pressed its soothing cool into the skin of your thigh as you sauntered through the compound. As you passed the counterparts you had known since childhood, they stepped aside with wary smiles.

They knew your true knife was not the blade with which you had a slightly below average affinity. It was your tongue.

“Look who it is, Vince’s little prodigy.” The sound of the ever-present guards outside of Vince Hanon’s office called out to you, their lips turned up in a not entirely taunting smirk.

“Good morning, lackeys,” You greeted in return, stopping before the large, steel door that held your boss’s office behind it, “Vince sent word that he wanted to see me, another assignment apparently.”

One of the guards snickered slightly, “Hopefully it has nothing to do with using that blade on your thigh. Vince’s little prodigy would be too dead to report.”

“So funny,” You deadpan, shaking your head at the guard.

“You know, if Vince let you train with me as a child you would be proficient in the ways of combat,” The one who spoke first insisted. With a taunting smile, you walked up to the door and patted the guard’s shoulder.

“I’d also be as stupid as you, which is exactly why he didn’t.”

The laughter of the two guards filled your ears and brought a smile to your lips as you pushed the button on the panel beside the door. The steel whooshed aside, revealing Vince’s office. With that easy smile still on your lips, you greet the Zeltron who saved you as a child. His magenta skin gleamed in the sunlight that streamed in through the massive windows that made up the far wall of the office, and his white teeth were a stark contrast to the dark color as he looked up to you and smiled.

It did not go unnoticed that he only smiled at you like that.

Vince Hanon had no lover and no children, but anyone who knew a fraction about him knew that the closest thing he had to family was an abandoned child whose life he’d spared all those years ago. He wasn’t the father you’d always dreamed of, but he was the one you had. He hadn’t sold you for profit as your first father had, he hadn’t let you play with toys or even be a child in those first years under his care, but he had made you independent in this cruel, uncaring galaxy. That was something so very few women got to be.

Vince Hanon made you self-sufficient when you should have died long ago, and it was that reason alone that made you grateful to him. Not caring, as a daughter would be to her father, as you knew he was with you, but grateful.

“My Prodigy,” Vince called out, standing from his massive mahogany desk carved with images of bones and crumbled towers along the legs, “It is always a pleasure to see you.”

“And you, Vince.” Your words were fluid and easy, not entirely a lie. A part of your heart was caught in anxious anticipation, though.

You knew what came next. You knew he’d give you an assignment that made every part of your soul cringe. You knew what came next would push you further down the path of corruption and darkness. You knew, with a biting horror that never seemed to leave you alone, that after a few more years of doing his bidding, that small voice that whispered its disgust would go quiet.

And you’d be just like Vince.

“I was pleased to see your last assignment was handled with efficiency and discreteness,” Vince complimented. You nodded obediently, your hands clasped before you.

“The debtor did not have the credits to pay the balance due, so it seemed the Hothian government misplaced the deed to her home.” You reported, the words less bitter on your tongue than they would have been a few years ago.

“And it was found with my name on it,” Vince finished for you, allowing a deep chuckle to resonate through the room as he walked to your side. He put his arm along your shoulders, pulling you to his side and walking with you towards the back of his office space, “Good work, my Prodigy. I am impressed with how far you have come.”

“Thank you, Vince.”

Your jaw was tight and that nagging grew in your soul. He was pleased that you’d placed an elderly woman onto the streets to repay the debt she owed. The debt to Vince for saving her son’s life after Vince had been the one to order his death.

Is this truly who you were now?

The thought did not last long, as you shoved it deep down and locked it in the same room in your mind where you kept that little girl sleeping in front of an unopened door, waiting for her parents. You did what you had to in order to survive. You had no choice.

How much longer would that lie placate you?

“I have been thinking,” Vince began again, stopping near the far wall of his office where a massive box covered with a large cloth sits. He removed his arm from your shoulders and stepped back to face you, “There is no one in this organization that I trust more than you.”

You blinked in surprise, the words slamming through you.You did not quite know how to feel when your trained eyes examined his features and expression and saw that he meant it, saw that he looked at you as a father would their child. Vince had trained you to see tells in a person’s face, and you saw none in his.

“You honor me, boss.”

Vince took a moment to simply examine your face, his eyes seeming to search for something. When he seemed to not find it, a small, real smile began on his lips.

“I have one more assignment for you,” Vince informed, that smile growing as he took another step back and closer to the covered box, “And if you succeed, I want to make you my Second.”

The world seemed to stop spinning for a moment. Your eyes widened a fraction, your mouth dropping open the slightest bit. His Second, he wanted to make you his Second.

“But that would mean…” You trailed off, your eyes desperately searching for a tell of a lie on his face. You found none.

“You would take over for me when I retire.” Vince finished for you.

“Vince, I couldn’t-”

“Yes, you could.” His interruption was accompanied by a hand to your shoulder, “You have earned this, my Prodigy. You deserve this.”

His Second. You would lead this organization one day, you would be the next Vince Hanon. You would have power and control. No more would you have to fear for the next meal or the next morning. You’d be safe, in control, in power. You could change the way this was run, maybe even do some good.

This was the answer to the nagging in your chest, the horror in your soul. You could have a shot at redemption for all that you’ve done.

“Thank you, boss.” You whispered hoarsely, your voice not hiding an ounce of your emotion. Vince nodded and stepped back, those calculating eyes sweeping over your figure.

“Just one more assignment, child. One more, and it’s all yours.”

“Anything.” Your response was stronger this time, your eyes holding a hope that hadn’t been there since you were a child.

“A recent debtor repaid his debt. I need you to take care of it.” Vince’s words barely registered in your mind. All you could think of was your freedom. Then he pulled the cloth off of the box, and you realized it wasn’t a box at all.

It was a cage.

With a small gasp, your mind snapped back to this moment. The freedom you’d almost been able to taste came crashing down, and that horror roared in your soul so loudly that you actually stumbled back a step.

There was a child in that cage, a little girl who looks to be the same age that you were all those years ago.

“But you…you stopped selling to the Trade,” Your voice was a breath, your words ringing with terror.

“I did,” Vince conceded, stroking a hand along the cage’s bars and making the young girl in it recoil back as far as she could in the cramped space, “And my profits since have taken a steep drop. If I am to cement your future, I need to build up our reputation and savings again. I need to make sure every crime syndicate from here to the Outer Rim knows not to mess with us, with you.”

You were shaking your head, your heart racing and your mind fraying apart as if you hadn’t spent the entirety of your life fortifying it and trying desperately to forget.

“I can’t,” You gasped, shaking your head and taking back a step, “I can’t-”

“Yes you can,” Vince soothed, stepping up to you and holding your arms, “You’re ready for this. Think of everything this could bring you.”

Oh you were. As you stared into that scared little girl’s eyes, it was all you could think about. You were stuck awfully between flashes of your abandonment and what your future would look like if you did this one last assignment. The loneliness in the empty house, the empire you could build. The hunger that had set in after a week alone, the security of always having another meal. The betrayal that had burrowed deep in your chest, the power you could fill its hole with.

“She’s just another trade, a simple barter. Nothing more than the deed to a home.” Vince’s voice was an echo of your thoughts, the devil on your shoulder.

It would be so easy, so easy. After everything that you had been through, why should you care how your safety and freedom was bought? You deserved it, your life has been anything but fair. It would be easy. One trade, and the world, the very galaxy, would be in the palm of your hands.

But would your soul ever recover? Would you ever be able to look at yourself in a mirror again? You knew what happened to little girls who went into the trade, for being in this business you knew all too well of the perversions of the people in this galaxy.

Could you live with this?

Vince saw the flash of an answer in your eyes a moment too late.

The knife was already in your hand and thrown by the time Vince had just begun to open his mouth and shout for his guards. The knife lodged into his shoulder even though you’d been aiming for something more lethal. It was enough to stop him from rushing you, though. You sped forward and tackled him to the ground with every ounce of strength you had. His cry of pain was muffled by the hand you slapped over his mouth. In a quick move, you ripped the knife free from his shoulder and angled it at his throat.

Vince went as silent as death, his eyes wide with betrayal, with…with hurt.

Your chest squeezed painfully at the look in his eyes as you moved your hand from covering his mouth. He didn’t scream, he knew better, “My child, I’ve given you the world.”

His words were choked with tears, you realized suddenly. To your surprise, tears of your own gathered in your eyes.

“I’m not your child,” You whispered, clenching your jaw to keep your resolve, “And I don’t want the world if this is what it costs.”

There was a flash of rage in his eyes, and it made your stomach drop. You’d seen it before, but never directed at you.

“You do this,” His words were calculated and controlled, barely veiling his growing anger, “And I will never stop hunting you. I will show you just what I spared you from when you were a child.”

Something broke within your chest at the thought, but for the first time since seven years old, you weren’t shoving down guilt to do something. You could feel your heart open and free, your soul resting for once, and you knew that this was what you had to do. You need to be able to live with yourself, even if it means you lived a short life.

You are better than this, than everything you have done to survive.

You aren’t a kid anymore. You have a choice.

“So be it,” You murmured, and then slammed the handle of the knife against Vince’s temple. He was out cold as soon as the blow was delivered, which was surprising in itself. That move had never worked before for you. You’re glad it had now, because as you stood and moved away from the magenta-skinned Crime Lord, you realized that this was freedom.

You’re free now, and it was better than the freedom that you would have bought with the trading of your soul.

Without another thought to the consequences of your actions, you turned and sprinted over to the cage where the little girl sat crouched as far as she could in the corner. Her eyes were wide with fear and confusion and hope as she looked up at you.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” You soothed, stooping down in front of the cage and looking at the lock.

Once you saw the shape of the key needed, you stood and jogged to Vince’s massive desk. It only took a few moments of searching before you snagged the key from under a stack of papers and forms.

A knock sounded on the massive steel door, but it thankfully remained closed, “Everything alright in there?”

Your pulse spiked dangerously and your heart missed a beat.

“Everything’s fine, lackeys,” You responded coolly, almost sounding bored, “Vince had to grab something from his chambers.”

This seemed to placate them, and you’re relieved that Vince’s chambers are attached to his office through a door at the very back. Knowing time was running out, you sprinted to the cage and crouched once more. Your fingers trembled as you undid the lock and threw the door open. The girl sat pressed into the far corner, and you let out a panicked breath as you extended a hand out to her.

“Come on, kid. We don’t have much time left.”

She examined your hand for an agonizingly long moment before realizing you weren’t going to hurt her. To your relief, she quickly took your outstretched hand and crawled out as fast as she could. You kept her hand in yours and tugged her towards the door at the back wall that leads to Vince’s room.

“How are we going to get out?” She mumbled. You pressed the button beside the door and it slid open easily, revealing a room of black silk and deep emerald walls. Tugging the girl in, you shut the door and made sure to press the lock button before pulling her towards the wall beside Vince’s bed.

You released her hand for a moment as you approached the massive painting that rested on the wall. Your fingers searched the edges desperately until they found a small button.

“Vince showed this to me when I was your age,” You panted, pushing the button and swinging the painting aside, “He kept it for a quick escape if the compound was ever raided.”

A large, dark hole was in the wall behind the painting—a chamber that led directly to the back of the compound. The young girl shook her head slightly, her eyes going wide as she peered into the dark reaches of the cavernous chamber.

“I can’t,” She whispered, her voice trembling, “It’s too scary, I can’t. I-”

Before you could even console her, the sound of a fist pounding on the steel door to the office in the other room echoed through the walls, “Boss, you in there? What’s going on?”

Your heart nearly stopped and you knew the guards, as stupid as they were, would notice the silence soon enough. Swirling back to the young girl, you did not wait for her response before you hoisted her into your arms and put her into the escape passageway. Thankfully, the girl had the sense to remain quiet despite her obvious trepidation as she waited in the dark for you to climb in after her. Once you had, you closed the painting as quietly as you could just as you heard the office being raided.

It was only a matter of time before they would see Vince unconscious and venture into his bedroom beyond. You had to move, and fast.

“Come on,” You urged, finding the girl’s hand in the dark and tugging her down the passageway. As you moved down a flight of stairs, you pressed the small button on your metal bracelet, releasing a soft glow of light bright enough to illuminate your next steps and banish the girl’s fear of the dark.

“Will they find us?” She panted, her small hand gripping yours tightly.

“They shouldn’t,” You replied, your eyes straining into the dark beyond the small glow of your bracelet as you took turns and twists and more passages to the depths of the compound, “Vince only told me about the passage.”

Even though that should have eased the girl’s tension, her grip on your hand did not relax. It took a few minutes of deep silence before she finally spoke again.

“You really were his favorite,” She breathed, a certain tremor in her voice. You could practically feel the weight of her large eyes burning into the side of your face.

For some reason, her words knocked you on your ass. This young girl knew who Vince Hanon was before she was taken by him, and she knew enough to have heard about you. Was this how the galaxy saw you? As Vince Hanon’s adopted daughter?

The thought made you shudder.

“Why did you betray him for me?” She asked into the thick silence, and a pang shot through your chest.

Your feet faltered, and you stopped the breakneck pace you’d been going at. With a trembling breath, you turned and looked back at the young child. The light from your bracelet lit up the contours of her face, the tear stains etched into her skin and the trauma haunting her young, innocent gaze.

“Because I was you a long time ago.” You swallowed, sudden tears swimming in your gaze as you took in the small child who nearly met such a cruel fate, “Because Vince saved me, and there was no one to save you.”

The words stung some deep, confused part of your chest. A part of you would always…be indebted to Vince. He was the holder of your chains, the destroyer of your moral compass, the tyrant of your life. But, no matter how much you tried to forget it, he saved you. He saved you when your own father would not, and he raised you as his own.

Some twisted part of you would always pity him, even though you knew you shouldn’t.

That’s why, without a word, you smiled sadly at the girl before turning and leading her the rest of the way out of the passage.

|||

The entire city was on high alert.

Moments after the girl and you emerged from the escape passageway and into a back alley miles from the compound, you heard the shouts and the sirens in the distance. Vince had run this city with an iron fist, he did not tolerate betrayal and the people knew that. But now, the King of Crime had been crossed by his own Prodigy.

Every goon he had working for him was now hunting for you.

Doors were shut and windows locked. The streets were empty and the last few stragglers were in no rush to speak to anyone they did not have to. Even now, only a few minutes after the crime had been announced publicly, Vince’s guards swarmed the streets, pounding on doors and demanding entry for searches.

“They’re everywhere,” The young girl you saved panted as you sprinted with her down back alleys and through abandoned shops, “Where will we go?”

“I still have some friends,” You assured in response, stopping suddenly at the back door of a normal, unassuming home miles down from where Vince’s guards were searching. Without pausing to explain to the girl, you pounded your fist desperately against the door. There was a rush of steps before an old, hoarse voice called out.

“We are closed to visitors right now. Come back later.”

“It’s me,” Is all you said in response.

The old fashioned door swung open almost instantly. You had to squint against the sudden flood of light until you could just make out the older woman who stood in the doorway peering down at you and the girl with calculating eyes. She swung her gaze between the terrified child and you before she finally let out a long sigh.

“You finally did it,” She mused, catching your gaze with a knowing look.

“He asked something of me I couldn’t do,” You informed, trying to sound detached even though your entire heart was upon your sleeve, “And I need your help.”

Behind the old woman, children zoomed back and forth of all species and ages. They laughed and played jovially, unaware of the chaos outside. This place was an Orphanage, one you visited quite often with what little money you had left after Vince’s paychecks. You never allowed the Orphanage Keeper to tell you her name for her own sake, but she’d made it clear that she would be at your service should you ever need it.

You needed it now.

The Keeper looked down at the young girl who still held your hand in a tight grip and hummed, “She’ll fit right in, the guards won’t even know the difference.”

Relief broke over you, and you turned from The Keeper to stoop down in front of the confused child.

“What’s happening?” The young girl interrogated, her voice quivering.

“This place is safe for you, The Orphanage Keeper will take good care of you. She’ll make sure you find a home and lead a normal life.”

She caught on to your tone quickly, realizing you were going to leave her here. She began to shake her head and back up from the doorway, “No, you can’t leave me. Please don’t leave me!”

Your heart shattered. Those words had haunted your own soul since you were just as old as she is. They’ve bounced around in your memories in ways you’ll never be able to put into words. To hear them come from her…Tears you did not try to hide fought their way to your gaze as you grasped the young girl’s shoulders.

“They won’t look for you, they’ll be too busy hunting me. As long as you’re near me, you will not be safe,” You explained, smiling sadly at the girl and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, “We’ll see each other again, I just know it”

The girl sniffled, but nodded and slowly stepped away from you. The Keeper smiled down at the child, extending her hand, “Come, little one. Go on inside, I’ll be in soon to show you where you’ll be staying.”

With one last look back at you, the young girl turned and walked into the Orphanage. You stood slowly, watching her retreat into the building of laughing children. When she didn’t look back to you after that, you knew that she’d survive, that she’d make it.

“I have a ship. It’s old and hasn’t been run in ages, but it’ll get you off-world.”The Keeper’s rushed words snapped you back to reality and you looked up at her. Nodding, you ran a hand through your hair and gathered yourself back together.

“Don’t go to the Outer Rim,” The Keeper continued, rummaging through the small compartment by the door before she pulled out a small bag, “He’ll look there first. Try Coruscant, it’s swarming with New Republic. Vince wouldn’t dare go there.”

You nodded swiftly, your mind swimming with the rising surrealness of the perilous situation. Before you could turn and leave into the dark of night, The Keeper stepped forward and pressed the small bag into your palm. With furrowed brows, you looked down to your hand to inspect the small gift. Realizing exactly what was inside, you gazed back up at the woman sharply with wide eyes.

“You can’t give this to me, I can’t take this. It’s too much,” You rambled, trying to push the bag of credits back to The Keeper. She simply closed her weathered hands around yours and pushed the bag back towards you with a smile.

“This does not even begin to make up for all of the support you’ve given me over the years,” She rasped, tears glistening in her eyes as she realized exactly what you already know.

This was goodbye. You would not see her again.

“Thank you,” You breathed, knowing if you spoke any louder you'd be choking on tears. You were thanking The Orphanage Keeper for more than the credits in your hand. Through the years, no matter what horrors you committed for Vince and his gang, this Orphanage always reminded you of the light that still flickered in your soul. It reminded you that you were good.

“May the Force be with you,” The Keeper blessed, and your heart squeezed at the unfamiliar words.

“And with you.”

Then you turned and ran into the night, leaving behind the light of the Orphanage and its Keeper for good. It wasn’t long before you made it to the ship The Keeper told you about, and it’s even less time before you’re shooting up into the atmosphere and leaving the planet behind. As you set the ship’s coordinates to Coruscant, your mind raced.

How far will Vince go to get you back? To repay your betrayal in blood as you knew he would?

Before you could even come up with an answer of your own, the bracelet on your wrist beeped with an incoming message. You extended your hand out before you, brows furrowed and pulse slowly picking up. The hologram that lit up in your palm knocked the breath from your lungs and sent your heart into a dangerous rhythm.

The crackling hologram was simple and straightforward, projected not directly towards you, but to every known crime syndicate member and bounty hunter.

It was a picture of your face, your lips turned up at the very edge in the beginning of a smile. The words below sealed your fate.

“Y/N Y/L/N—WANTED ALIVE

BOUNTY—2 MILLION NEW REPUBLIC CREDITS”

|||

The wind cracked like a whip against your skin as you ran.

“You can’t run forever!” The shrill, sardonic shout of the Hunter made your fear spike as you sprinted through the crowded streets of Coruscant.

You would think that a New Republic-crowded planet like this one would mean at least one bystander extended their help as you so clearly ran for your life. Even these citizens and their senators knew the price of your bounty, though, and they did not raise a finger to help you.

Probably the entire force of the Guild was after you considering how high Vince was willing to pay to get you back. With that high a bounty, odds were that no one was going to help you.

This particular Hunter was alone, a grateful difference from the last few that had come after you. Most had decided to come in groups and split the bounty, which made them much more difficult to elude considering you weren’t the stealthiest person alive.

You ran desperately through the crowd that parted for you. Eventually you’d have to go back into the peril of open, abandoned areas, so you took advantage of the crowd as much as you could. You could see the end of the crowd in the distance, though, and knew that it was only a matter of time before the chase was just you and the Hunter and a stretch of open space between.

As you shoved through the last of the crowd that had kept the Hunter from firing his stun shots, you heard his voice ring out through the air, “No more hiding, sweetheart!”

Your eyes scanned desperately for another way out, for an escape plan or any plan really. Not having much of a choice, you took a hard right and sprinted into an alley. As a show to your incredibly bad luck, you found it to be a dead end.

“Shit!” You panted, turning so fast on your heel that your shoes groaned against the pavement. You stumbled to a quick halt as you found the panting Bounty Hunter blocking your way out.

“Vince Hanon wants you alive,” He mused, a slow smile spreading across his lips, “He didn’t say how alive.”

The Hunter raised his stun blaster and fired, but you’re expecting it and have already dive-rolled to the side. The shot soared past you, crackling as it did, and you wasted no time to see how close it came before you were on your feet and charging at the Hunter. With a war cry, you shoved the Hunter with your entire body weight before he could get another shot out. He grunted as he crashed into the wall, leaving the exit open for you to sprint out.

You did so with a pounding heart, your mind racing to come up with as many plans as you can. You raced down the sparsely populated street, your mind speeding for a solution.

If I can just make it into an outlet, then I-

A crackling fire erupted in your back and exploded across the entirety of your body. With a cry of pain, you dropped to the floor and could barely move your head to see the blue energy crackling across your being. Your body convulsed under the stun shot, momentarily paralyzed.

No. No, no, no, no. This can’t be it.

The pounding of footsteps slowed as they approached your downed form. You looked up in rage and terror at the Bounty Hunter. He shoved his blaster back into its holster and shook his head down at you.

“What a pity,” He uttered, smiling that slick, nauseating smile again, “I was going to take it easy on you. But now?”

You thought quickly of everything you could offer the Hunter that was more valuable than two million credits. Desperation rang through you as you came up empty.

“Please,” Your voice shook pathetically at the last attempt to save yourself, and tears gathered in your eyes. You could feel your body slowly come back under your control and you slid back and away from the Hunter. You hated this, you hated begging for your life.

I can’t go back, was all you could think, I can’t let him have me again.

“I like it when you beg,” The Hunter mused, walking ever so slowly towards your downed, retreating form. He was taunting you, and you both knew it.

When he finally reached you, he crouched and grabbed you by your legs, sliding you towards him.

“No!” You bellowed, thrashing wildly in his grip as he pinned you with his weight, “You bastard! Let me go!”

All sense and reason had left you. Begging wasn’t going to work and it only made him happier, so you wouldn’t try it again. All you had left was a burning terror in your gut of what would happen if Vince got you back. So, you fought the Hunter with all of the fire you had left.

The first slam of his fist into your cheek made blood spray from your now-busted lip. He couldn’t secure both of your hands in time to stop you from clawing at his face. You couldn’t fight well, but you could do that. His shout of pain was music to your ears, but he quickly secured your fists with one hand and continued his onslaught with the other.

“Stupid bitch,” He panted between hits, making stars dance in your vision, “Barely worth the two million”

Those words shouldn’t have wounded you, but you couldn't stop the hurt that exploded in your chest. With unbridled emotions, you spit a mouthful of blood up at the Hunter. He reared back in disgust, wiping your blood off of his face and peering down at you in pure hate.

“Just for that,” Is all he said as he pulled out the stun blaster. Your eyes widened a fraction and you could barely turn your cheek to brace for impact when the sound of a blaster exploded through the air.

But it never hit you.

Suddenly, the weight of the Hunter on you slid off and you turned your head up to see him crumpling to the ground with a burning hole in his chest.

Pure dumb luck.

Hope bursted through you as you scrambled to your feet and delivered an extra kick to the corpse, spitting more of your blood down on him before wiping it off your mouth with the back of your hand. You glanced up, looking around curiously for the one who fired and saved you.

Your gratitude died when your eyes found him.

The world slowed to an almost stop as panic, real and true, constricted your chest. Shining, dark silver beskar gleamed at you in the burning afternoon sunlight. He stood like an angel of death not thirty paces from you. You knew who he was, everyone knew who he was in your line of work.

The Mandalorian. Perhaps the best Bounty Hunter in the Guild, and the most ruthless.

He wasn’t saving you, he was taking your bounty for himself.

You stumbled back, your entire body aching but your mind screaming at you to go, run!

The Mandalorian began to stalk towards you and you turned, breaking out into a desperate run. You could only limp, though, and you knew he’d be upon you before you could stop him. You glanced back as you continued your pathetic excuse for a run, and your heart missed a beat when you saw he had almost caught up to you. Turning your head back forward, tears swam in your vision.

No, your mind repeated again and again and again, No, no, no

You couldn’t outrun him, you couldn’t outsmart him, you couldn’t overpower him. You were done. You were done, and the desperation in your chest revealed that you knew it.

Your exhaustion almost overpowered your adrenaline and you stumbled into the wall of a nearby building, bracing yourself against it as you tried to keep moving. Practically feeling his domineering presence behind you, your eyes searched the building’s edge for a weapon. The best you could find was an abandoned speeder wrench. You grasped the long tool in your trembling hand and whipped around, swinging the wrench with all of the strength you had left.

Your heart faltered as the Mandalorian caught your wrist with ease, looking down at you with that emotionless, daunting helmet of beskar. His grip was tight, but not bruising, on your wrist, and you dropped the wrench. You watched his free hand grab a small device on his weapons belt, and you knew immediately it was some sort of stunning device similar to the other Hunter’s.

“Don’t do this.” You knew your plea fell on deaf ears, but you had to try, “Please don’t do this, I can’t go back.”

His head tilted down at you, but he didn't say a word. The warmth of his hand seeped through the gloves he wore and burned into your skin as he held your wrist. A tear slipped down your cheek, searing its path across your skin. You could feel yourself give up.

You’d been running alone for nearly a week and had barely slept a combined total of three hours. Your body couldn’t take anymore, your soul can’t take anymore.

“Just kill me,” You suddenly begged, another tear slipping down, “If you’re gonna bring me in, just kill me. Please kill me, please.”

This seemed to stun the Mandalorian, because his grip on your wrist loosened slightly. The hand holding the stun device stalled and you heard him take in a breath.

“What?” The word was so simple and so low that you almost missed it, but the rumble of his gruff, modulated voice struck to your very chest. There was something in that voice…something you couldn’t quite place.

Something that made you think he might honor your request, that he might listen.

“Kill me,” You pleaded again, bringing the hand he didn’t hold to press against his beskar chest plate, “Don’t let him have me alive, I’d rather die. Please kill me,”

There was a charge in the air between you two that confused you, and you blamed it on the delusions your panic was causing. With his hand still holding your wrist and your hand on the cool metal plating his chest, you practically leaned all of your exhausted weight onto him. You could barely stand anymore, and you shut your eyes, turning your head and waiting for his killing blow.

Death was better than Vince Hanon.

You waited and waited and waited, but the blow never came.

“I’m not going to kill you,” The Mandalorian murmured, his voice like gravel and deceivingly soothing to your soul. Pure desperation makes another tear slip down your cheek as you open your eyes that are so, so tired.

“No,” Is all you could make out, lifting your exhausted gaze to his helmet.

“I’m not gonna turn you in, either.”

His words sent a shot of confusion through your soul.

“What?” You breathed, your brows furrowed.

“I won’t turn you in,” The Mandalorian repeated, his voice sounding just as confused as you, but with an edge of a vow that made you believe him.

“Thank you,” You mumbled, the adrenaline that had kept you awake for nearly an entire week seeping out of your system, “Thank you”

It probably was not smart, but you couldn’t stop your body from giving in to the need to sleep. You collapsed, your eyes slipping shut and your mind already shutting down into that blissful abyss of rest. As your body slipped to the floor, you felt strong, warm arms catch you. Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted and pressed into cool metal.

“I’ve got you,” The Mandalorian vowed, his voice uncertain but his soul remembering what it felt like trying to turn in the Child when he first hunted him down, “I’ve got you.”

The Mandalorian held your sleeping form close to his chest as he walked past the outskirts of the busy Coruscant town and near the shipyard where the Crest awaits. To be completely honest, he didn’t know what he was doing. He needed those credits, and it had been all too easy to find you considering how many Hunters were on your trail.

Din stood there in the shadows of an alleyway, watching that Hunter take you down and approach your convulsing body. He watched with a blaster raised, ready to take the Hunter out and then claim your bounty instead. Din watched as you fought like a hellcat to be free, watched you spit your blood up at the Hunter.

When he took out the Hunter, he wasn’t entirely sure if he’d done it to claim your bounty himself or save your life.

As he followed your limping form easily, not even having to run to catch up with you, he was so sure he’d collect your bounty. He had convinced himself he would, even after that familiar nagging of his conscience began.

Then Din caught you, and you begged for death.

Never before had a bounty done that, at least if he didn’t torture them for information first. Yet here you were, begging for death. Din had felt like a sort of Reaper as you sobbed and pleaded for your end, and suddenly he could not understand how the Reaper managed to fulfill those pleas.

In that moment, peering into your tear-filled eyes and seeing the desperation, the fear that wasn’t directed at him, Din couldn’t do it. He couldn't kill you, and he sure as hell couldn't turn you in to Vince Hanon.

So now here he was, carrying you to his ship with the intent of helping you escape.

It was stupid, Din knew that. He shouldn’t be doing this, he should have left you there on the street to fend for yourself. This wasn’t his problem. You weren’t his problem.But he just couldn’t. It was his biggest weakness, and everyone knew it. First with the kid, and now with you. Even now he couldn’t think of leaving you to fend for yourself, not as he looked down at your sleeping form cuddled into his chest as if you had never been held before.

Maybe you hadn’t, just as he hadn’t in a long while.

Ultimately, that was why Din let you cling to him in your oblivious sleep when he would have shoved almost anyone else off.

And it was in that moment that Din Djarin knew he was screwed.

|||

When you woke up, you didn’t recognize your room.

For a moment you stayed perfectly still, knowing that your memories would supplement the answer eventually. As you sat up slowly, you took in the cot you lay upon in the small room.

A ship, you determined.

That’s when the events of when you were awake came rushing back—the Bounty Hunter on Coruscant, nearly getting caught, the Mandalorian.

The Mandalorian…saving your life.

Why would a Bounty Hunter save you?

Instantly, doubt began to creep into your mind. Reason took over for desperation now that you were rested and in a Bounty Hunter’s ship. The Mandalorian was one of the best in the Guild, he would have said anything to get you onto his ship. He had to be on his way to Vince right now.

With a wary mind, you got off of the bed slowly. You tried to be as silent as possible, but failed horribly, as you crept out of the small room you were just sleeping in. As the door to the room slid open, you were met with the hull of a ship. It was relatively clean, but had small clusters of scrap metal and assorted belongings in corners of the room. To your right, as you glanced up, was a ladder leading to what had to be the cockpit.

He was probably up there right now.

Your breath was shallow, but you took your time to scan the ship warily. You paused upon a good-sized metal cabinet in the back. If there were any weapons in this ship, that’s where they would be. You walked up to the cabinet quietly, looking back towards the ladder to make sure the Mandalorian wasn’t coming down. As your fingers reached towards it, your mind was racing with plans.

You’d never beat him in any sort of combat, but if you could sneak up and surprise-

A choked gasp broke out of your mouth as a strong hand grabbed your shoulder and flipped you around. In an instant, you were pressed up against the metal cabinet with a beskar-coated arm barring your throat hard enough to keep you in place, but not enough to cut off your air supply.

“You really think that was gonna work?” He ground out, cocking his head down at you. Your chest was heaving with breath as you looked up at him, desperately trying to look tough.

“Did you really think I was going to let you deliver me to Vince without a fight?” You rasped back, your eyes lit with fire as you stared into the abyss of that beskar helmet.

“Deliver you to-” The Mandalorian stopped his sentence, sounding almost disgruntled as his arm loosened at your throat, “I told you I wouldn’t. I keep my promises.”

“How do I know that?” You countered, suddenly trying to ignore the burning heat of his arm against your throat, even with his armor in the way, “How do I know you’re not gonna say anything to keep me docile before delivering me to him?”

The Mandalorian stopped for a moment, but even as he did your words felt wrong. A part of you, deep within your chest, knew you could trust him. But you were raised to trust no one, so you ignored the intuition and stood your ground.

There was a thick silence as you waited for his response, but it was anything but silent. You were all too aware of how close his body was pressed to yours, of the heat that radiated off of him and the charge in the air.

“If I wanted to turn you into Vince Hanon, you’d already be there,” The Mandalorian finally reasoned, stepping back from you and dropping his arm as if he too realized the intimacy of your position, “You slept for two and a half days, you can check if you think I’m lying.”

A part of you wanted to check just to spite him, but as much as you hated to admit it, you believed him. You stayed with your back against the metal cabinet and observed the Bounty Hunter.

“Where are we going, then?” You inquired, the skepticism heavy in your tone.

“Serenno.” His reply was short and clipped, but you still visibly reacted.

“Serenno?” You retorted, already shaking your head, “That’s Outer Rim. I won’t-”

The Mandalorian cut you off, taking only one menacing step towards you, but it was enough to make your words die.

“You tried the populated, New Republic planet and obviously that didn’t work for you. Vince probably has men crawling through that sector now, so the Outer Rim is our best bet.”

Our? The word came off of his tongue so naturally that it struck a chord deep in your chest. “I was advised to stay away from there. Vince has men patrolling for me there. Why would it be any better now?” You cut back.

“Because now you have me.”

He didn’t raise his voice, didn[t even sound pissed off, but there was something in his words that sent a chill running down your spine. An arrogant man would say those words carelessly, and you knew exactly what it sounded like coming from them. But The Mandalorian? He wasn’t arrogant. He was sure, and for reasons you didn’t want to unpack just yet, it made your heart miss half of a beat.

“If you’re gonna make it out of this, you have to trust me,” He followed up. You almost laugh.

“That’s not happening,” You quipped, but your eyes told a different story. You didn’t want to stroke his ego by telling him that he was already the most trustworthy person you’d met in years. “How are we going to make it out of this anyway?”

There it was again. We. Why had you said ‘we’?

“Only one way that I see,” The Mandalorian responded, turning from you and walking over to a corner of junk on his ship, “Kill Vince Hanon.”

He said it so casually, but it didn/t stop the words from choking you from within. That should have sat easily with you considering what he had almost made you do before you betrayed him. And yet, after everything, you couldn’t fully convince yourself you’d land a final blow if the time came.

There was a long silence, one that indicated the conversation was over. The Mandalorian turned to the ladder, ready to go back up to the Cockpit when you called out to him suddenly, almost desperately.

“Why are you helping me?”

He paused, his back to you as it had been for the last few minutes. He turned his head slightly in your direction, but didn't turn around.

“I don’t know,” He grunted out, then turned and went up the ladder.

He was lying, you knew it the second he spoke. Vince trained you to see tells, and you could see them even through his helmet. You didn’t have time to ponder why he really was helping you when another door near to the one you were sleeping in slid open.

You turned towards the noise, confusion and wariness springing up in your gut. You hadn’t known he had a crew, you had just assumed it was him alone in this ship.

So, considering that, surprise isn’t quite the right word to describe what flashed through you when you watched a child walk out of the room.

“What the-” You breathed, your words dying out on your own as the small, green toddler stopped outside of his room and looked up at you with massive, dark eyes.

Before you could even call out to the Mandalorian, you hear a rushed curse followed by the thud of his feet slamming against the ship’s flooring as he jumped from the ladder. Suddenly, the beskar-coated Bounty Hunter is storming over and scooping the child up into his massive arms.

“What are you doing out, kid?” He scolded softly, but even you could hear the tenderness in his voice—the mark of a father. At least, what you imagined a father would be like.

The child tilted his head up at the daunting, death-bringing Mandalorian and smiled, reaching out with his tiny hands out to the Hunter. You could hear The Mandalorian sigh in resignation, tucking the child close into his body, “You make it hard to be mad at you, kid. You know that?”

Watching this angel of Death, the Hunter who almost became your reaper, cuddle a small child to his chest with those hands scarred with blood and murder…you could feel your heart melting.

You knew instantly that you were in trouble, serious trouble.

The Mandalorian turned to you, holding the child close, “It seems I have a knack for sparing the bounties I’m given.”

Surprise skittered across your face as you took in the meaning in his words. Any small amount of doubt in your safety with this Mandalorian suddenly dissipated into ash. You’d never tell the Hunter that, but you couldn’t deny that his word was good. He said was going to help you, and that’s what he was going to do.

“Cute kid,” You managed to get out, not being able to stop the smile that grew onto your lips, “He’s lucky to have you for a father.”

The daunting, ever-stoic Mandalorian suddenly seemed to grapple with his words, and it takes more effort than you’d like to admit to keep the amused smile on your lips from turning into a laugh.

“I’m not his blood, I’m just watching out for him.” He finally settled on.

Something haunted and broken suddenly speared into your chest, and you knew from the way the Mandalorian’s back stiffened and head tilted that it passed across your face. With a smile that’s sad and built with years of heartache, you locked your gaze with the Bounty Hunter that spared you.

“A father isn’t always bound by blood,” You nearly whispered, breaking away from his gaze and reaching up to run a soft, caressing finger across the child’s large ear. He giggled, leaning into your touch. You smiled wider, this one less sad than before.

“He’s a lot to handle isn’t he?” You asked. The Mandalorian stiffened, seeming defensive.

“No. He’s actually-”

“I was talking about you, Mando,” You interrupted, looking away from the kid’s large eyes and up to the Mandalorian with a raised brow. He cocked his head down at you.

“Careful, I can still turn this ship around and take you to Vince,” He threatened, but you knew now that he never would. Somehow, you just knew that.

“Sure you will,” You taunted, smiling up at him before taking a step back from the kid who reached after you, “What’s your name anyways, Mandalorian? Or am I expected to call you Mando for the rest of our lovely time together?”

“Why would I give you that?” He asked, his voice like gravel and silk all at once. He was a siren and you were a sailor—blissfully doomed from the start.

“Because you already have mine,” You reasoned, alluding to the bounty he took on you, “It’s only fair.”

He paused for a moment that stretched on long enough for you to know that he wasn’t going to give it. You nodded in response, clicking your tongue “Mando it is.”

You turned, walking towards the ladder that led up to the cockpit. You made it up a few rungs when his voice stopped you.

“Din.”

You froze, taking a few seconds to comprehend what he just said. With your back to him, you didn’t stop the smile that grew onto your lips.

“Thanks for saving my ass, Din,” You called back, before continuing up the ladder. It was so soft that you almost missed it, but Din chuckled quietly to himself below. The sound traveled down your spine and turned your heart molten.

You definitely were in trouble.

Then again, you always loved trouble anyways.

|||

The sun hung low in the sky, slinging the last of its light across the tops of mountains and through the lush rainforests stretching between the settlements of Serenno. As you and Din left the Razor Crest in a clearing and trekked towards a nearby city, there was a smile you could not stop from breaking free.

It wasn’t long lasting, for the moment the illusion of peace settled over your shoulders, the Mandalorian’s words were quick to remind you of the truth.

“Stay close to me. Don’t wander off, don’t go anywhere on your own. Keep your eyes open, and if you see anything tell me.” His voice was low and even and perhaps the most daunting sound you’d ever encountered. There was something so dangerous in the smooth, controlled tone modulated by his mask. It almost made you nod in easy compliance.

“I think you’re forgetting I’m used to this life, Mando,” You insisted, walking harder than you’d like to admit to keep up with his pace as the two of you entered the city, “I don’t need you controlling my every step. I know how to take care of myself.”

“Yeah? That worked out so well for you on Coruscant.” Din fired back at you, his voice not even ratcheting up in volume an inch. He didn’t even look over at you as he sauntered down the main street of the city. As the two of you walked, every stare that slipped your way left just as swiftly when they caught sight of the Mandalorian.

“I survived longer on my own than most would. I’m not saying I don’t need your help, just that I’m not a child for you to boss around.”

That seemed to strike a chord in his chest as he suddenly stopped and grabbed ahold of your arm, tugging you to a stop so abruptly that you stumbled right into him. Din steadied you with a hand on either arm, holding you so close that you had to crane your neck up to meet his unflinching helmet peering down at you.

“You think you can make it without me? Go ahead, leave.” He growled, finally showing a touch of emotion in his voice. You lifted your chin to meet his gaze, trying to ignore that way your heart could not seem to find an easy rhythm this close to Din. His words sent ice shooting through your chest, but much to your surprise, you found fire dancing up to tangle with it. You didn’t know whether to be intimidated or infatuated with him in this moment, and that thought was what jolted you back to reality. You stayed silent in response, because you knew the truth.

You would be dead within hours without the Mandalorian.

“That’s what I thought,” Din gritted out, his eyes sweeping over your figure for another moment before he let you go and began to walk away, “Now come on. We need supplies.”

You followed hastily, your eyes scanning the city for signs of hunters tracking you. As you struggled to think of anything besides the impact of Din’s words on you, Din stormed as far ahead of you as he could without leaving you completely behind. All the while, Din was trying to shove down the relief that you hadn’t taken his words seriously and left. The words had come out of his mouth, but within, Din had been begging you to see through the lie that they already were.

What terrified Din most was that he had practically just met you and yet he knew exactly what you could become to him should he not be careful. It was a fact that was hard to ignore when he looked at you and realized that you were the sun and him the moon—a mere reflection of the beauty before him.

Din shook his head to rid the thought, but to no avail. Instead, he grew grumpier and tried to increase the space between the two of you.

Trying to diffuse the tension, you jogged up to stay close to the Mandalorian and sighed, “So, what do we need to get?”

“Food, blankets, ammunition, anything else we’ll need to camp out here for a while,” Din responded. And, without even looking over at you, he spoke again.

“And we need to get you new clothes.”

You scoffed in surprise, looking down at your bloody and torn clothes. He was right, but it didn’t make you any less angry about it. You stormed after him, your fists clenched.

“You’re one to talk, Mando.” You retorted, catching up to him in time to hear his low chuckle. Immediately, your poor, unknowing heart stumbled at the sound and you found yourself once again, unable to be angry with the Bounty Hunter.

“That was a joke,” You realized, looking over at Din with surprised eyes, “Since when do you make jokes?”

He didn’t respond to that, just kept leading the way deeper into the town, “Get a move on, trouble. Can’t spend too long in town considering your luck.”

You followed with a small smile on your lips. It took hours to gather all that you needed to camp out on Serenno, and when Din finally began to turn and head back to the Crest, you almost cried in relief. Your arms ached with all of the wares you helped carry, and you were well past the exit of the city when Din finally began to explain to you the plan.

“We’ll hide out here for now. It’s quiet enough,” He assured, the Razor Crest coming into view as the two of you delved into the dense rainforest just before the clearing where it was parked, “Once we come up with a solid plan to take out Vince, we’ll move.”

Once again, the notion of ‘taking out’ the Zeltron who raised you struck you harder than it should have. You were able to hide it earlier, but as you exited the last of the trees obscuring the Crest, Din did not miss the way you went uncharacteristically silent. He didn’t say anything at first, and you thought he might let it go. As the two of you boarded the Crest and dropped the supplies onto the floor, the kid walked out of the room his crib sat in and looked up at you with wide, excited eyes. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Hello there,” You cooed, stooping down and picking him up, “Glad to see you missed me already.”

The child giggled in response, babbling some nonsense that you couldn’t quite understand. You felt the Mandalorian’s presence before you saw him, especially with how the attention of the child immediately switched to over your shoulder. You turned, not even meeting Din’s stare as you handed him his kid. The little one went happily, grabbing onto his caretaker as if he were anything but a feared Bounty Hunter. You smiled at the child before turning and walking with the clothes Din had bought you to your makeshift room to change. Before you could make it in, though, his voice called out to you.

“You don’t want to kill him.” Not a question, a statement.

So much for that.

Confliction tearing through you, you turned around and faced the Mandalorian and his child once again. Your eyes darted from the Mandalorian’s beskar helmet to the small child he held so close in his arms, and then back again. You could do little to hide the brokenness lingering in your gaze.

“I know it’s wrong,” You whispered, not fully understanding why you were being so vulnerable with this stranger, “I hate him. It should be easy to want him dead. It would solve all of my problems. But…”

The words you couldn’t say spoke just as loudly in silence as they would have in the air.

For a moment, you feared Din would push the matter and force the truth of your past out. Instead, he sighed and set down the kid, “Get changed. I’ll have a meal ready when you’re done.”

And that was that. He turned and walked away, going to do as he said. You stared for a moment in surprise that quickly shifted into a deep gratitude that spilled into your aching chest cavity. Din hadn’t forced you to say anything. He’d seen you were uncomfortable and he had let it go.

This Mandalorian was not who you thought he was, who he looked to be at first glance. With every passing day you spent with him, you realized your first impression could not have been further from the truth. With every day, you were proven more wrong about him in the best way possible.

And with every day, you wished you weren’t wrong at all.

Because how were you supposed to leave him in the end if you kept finding reasons to want to stay?

|||

It had now been weeks since you’d joined Din and the two of you had settled on Serreno.

In order to continue funding living while the two of you grappled with the best way to stop Vince and his bounty on you, Din had taken up a few smaller, low-profile bounties. He was careful not to pick up anything too forward since Vince had most likely noted by now that the two of you were together considering the debacle of Coruscant all those weeks ago.

And every time he went on a hunt, you found a way to join him.

At first, it was surprisingly easy to convince the Mandalorian to let you accompany him on his hunt. You’d claimed it was for your safety and that it was best to be with him whenever you could. After the first few, though, Din grew reluctant to let you come. He now considered the hunts more dangerous than staying in the Crest with the Child. You were running out of excuses to go with him, because you would not dare tell him the truth.

You wouldn’t dare to imagine the pity spreading across his face beneath that daunting mask that had become almost home to you when he found out the truth. In the time you’d spent together, you had fallen into a sort of routine. Wake up, plot and plan, go into town for hunts, execute those hunts. He’d taught you basic combat skills, his gloved hands leaving traces of fire where they corrected your form, and Din had even begun to eat in front of you, just lifting up the bottom of his mask to do so and allowing you to see his strong jaw and lips.

Those lips would haunt you night after night in dreams you could no longer control. To put a long story short, you’d grown attached. Hopelessly attached. And now, you couldn't help but be terrified of him leaving and not returning.

Just as your parents had all those years ago.

The fear was irrational and you knew it. Din was a man of his word and he’d promised you he would see you through this bounty and so you knew that he would. And yet, with the attachment that had grown rather quickly between the two of you, so too grew a fear of losing someone you lo-

Your thoughts stalled on the next word, and with a bolt of butterfly-filled fear in your gut, you amended the word.

Care for. A fear of losing someone you care for.

After all, if your parents—the only people in the galaxy who were meant to love you unconditionally—could leave you, so could the Mandalorian.

Your thoughts were once again interrupted by the sound of Din walking out of his chambers, adjusting a piece of his beskar armor. He struggled with the piece, cursing it out roughly beneath his breath as an amused smile traipsed onto your lips.

“Need some help?” You called out, lifting an eyebrow at him. His gaze snapped to yours and he huffed.

“No,” He rumbled. You hummed, standing to your feet and walking over to him.

“Sure you don’t.” You did not wait for him to object as you grabbed his shoulders and shoved him down into a chair nearby and began to work on the beskar shoulder plate.

“I can do it,” Din informed rather defeatedly.

You laughed softly, “I know you can, big guy.”

Your fingers worked with the plate of metal until you realized he had strapped it on wrong. Swiftly and deftly, you removed it and were just about to replace it when you noticed a jagged cut in his shirt beneath. The cut revealed a patch of tanned skin with an equally long and jagged cut on it that was now red and inflamed. You sucked in a breath sharply.

“What the hell Din? Why didn’t you mention you got hurt on the hunt yesterday?” You pressed, quickly setting down the beskar plate and rushing for a med kit, “It’s probably infected by now!”

“I can barely feel it,” Din defended, but surprisingly stayed in the chair as you grabbed the kit you were looking for and jogged back over to him, “Besides, I was going to put some bacta spray on it later and-”

“Bacta, really?” You cut in, shaking your head at the bounty hunter, “Is that your solution to everything? Put bacta on it?”

He shrugged, “Worked so far.”

Shaking your head, you grumbled your disapproval as you peeled back his shirt to see the extent of the laceration on his arm. Noting that it wrapped around slightly to the front, you moved to stand before the seated Mandalorian to get a better access to the cut. As your fingers danced along the injury, his skin was impossibly hot to your touch.

Because of a fever, you convinced yourself as you opened the med kit and looked around for a surface to set it down on. Noticing your search, Din patted his lap with his hand.

The movement made you actually stutter for a moment. It was a harmless offer, but the sight of it sent shockwaves tumbling through you. With a clouded mind, you set down the med kit on his thigh on the side opposite to his injured arm. He kept the kit braced with his free hand as you stepped between his legs to get closer to his injured arm.

You wished you could say that you didn’t even notice the position as you began to apply disinfectant to the cut, but it seemed to be the only thing on your mind. Din’s body heat bolted into you with how close you were to him and the scent of his soap that still lingered along his body dizzied your mind and reminded you of star-filled nights and rustling trees.

As you looked away from the injury and to the med kit, you grabbed the stitching needle and expertly began to suture his cut closed. You threaded the first stitch through his skin swiftly and without warning, making him suck in a sharp breath before you and instinctively grab onto your lower waist with the hand not bracing the med kit.

You gasped softly at the unexpected contact and looked down, an apologetic look crossing your distracted, breathless features, “Sorry, should’ve warned you.”

Din shook his head, clearing his throat, “No, I’m good. Keep going.”

Yet his hand lingered on your waist.

As you began to stitch up his cut, every free part of your mind was centered on that large, strong hand that rested ever so lightly on your waist. When you were about halfway through the stitch, the tense silence was finally broken.

“Where did you learn how to do all this?” Mando asked, his voice sounding ever so slightly strained.

“Whenever Vince’s fighters would come back from missions, I’d help patch them up where I could. Our healer trained me in a few vital skills while he worked,” You narrated, your voice airy and light as your fingers worked with the needle, “I was always good with the difficult cases because I’d tell them stories while we worked and it kept them distracted. I never could fight well, but I sure as hell could talk.”

“I know you can,” Din mumbled, making a surprised laugh break through you. You looked down at him, peering into the dark reaches of his beskar helmet that looked up at you.

“Careful teasing me, Mando. I’m the one with a needle in your arm.”

He released a low, soft laugh and his hand on your waist tightened the smallest bit. That was the end of the conversation, but it was the beginning of something else entirely. No longer did your attraction live chiefly in your dreams plagued with beskar and a voice so alluring it haunted you. You were awake, and you were sure you’d never been awake until this moment.

It was too much—the attraction, the tension, the dependency you were beginning to build up for him.

Din Djarin was like the hit of a drug or a breath of sweet air or the touch of nectar to the tongue—now that you’d known him, felt him, heard his laugh, you could never want for anything but him and it would never be enough until you had more.

“All done,” You whispered, putting the med kit back together and closing it. With the wound dressed and his beskar plate in place, Din stood from his perch before you could step back. The hand he had at your waist stayed there for a moment, keeping you from running away.

With his hulking presence before you and the way he peered down at you silently through his beskar helmet, you nearly forgot your own name. Your breaths were shallow and your heart raced in its cage of bones. Standing there, looking up at Din with your chest almost touching his, you knew.

You knew that when this was over, you couldn’t leave him. You wouldn’t leave him. You were suddenly unaware of how you’d gone the entirety of your life without him, let alone how you’d continue it after this was over. You felt as if Din was tethered to the breath in your lungs, the beat of your heart, the firing of your thoughts.

And for the life of you, you could not figure out how such a deep, ardent connection had taken root in your soul for someone you’d only known for a few months. It did not make sense, and somehow that was the beauty of it. These feelings were not explainable or rational, they were anything but. And that thrilled you just as much as it made you frightened that he’d walk out the door just like your parents had.

You wouldn’t recover from it this time.

“Din-”

You were cut off by the sound of the small, green child waddling up to the two of you and babbling something you could not understand. As if a knife had quartered down the moment between Din and you, the both of you stepped back instantly. His hands left your waist and yet you could still feel the phantom of their touch.

Din sighed as he stooped down and gathered the kid in his arms, “I know kid, we gotta get you something to eat.”

“I swear that child has the largest appetite,” You mused, a smile lighting your lips as you looked at the vulnerable youngling in the rough, intimidating arms of the Mandalorian.

For a moment, you wondered what it felt like to be in his arms, held close and safe like that.

“What are we gonna do with him for the hunt this afternoon?” You inquired, turning and securing the blaster Din had gotten you onto your belt, “And don’t even start the lecture on how we should be getting serious about our Vince planning. I know it seems like I’m being avoidant but if I just had a little more time then…”

You allowed your voice to trail off when you noticed the different kind of silence filling the crest. With furrowed brows, you turned to see Din tucking in the child to his crib. A sigh sounded from his modulator as he stepped back and checked his weapons, not even being able to look up to your gaze.

“Din?”

He paused, and the silence made your stomach twist. Finally, he looked up at you, “I need to do this hunt alone.”

For a moment, your brain would not grasp to compute the words, “What?”

“This is a dangerous one, and I’d feel better if you were here keeping the kid safe until I have it done.”

It took every ounce of your energy to restrain the panic that immediately roared to life in response to the trauma-triggering words. The timing could not be worse for this conversation, not when you’d just been reminiscing on how haunted you were that he would walk just like your parents had.

You managed to keep your face void of the telling emotions brewing within and shook your head, “Don’t be silly, Mando. If it’s really that dangerous, then I’ll just come with you.”

“No,” He urged, his voice stronger this time as he took a step closer to you, “I need you and the kid safe. I can’t ensure that if you’re out with me on a hunt like this.”

“I can hold my own,” You argued, trying and failing to keep the desperation from leaking into your voice, “I’ll just go with you and-”

“It is not safe for you out there. Vince’s bounty on your head keeps ratcheting up and everytime you leave this ship, your chances of being caught grow. I cannot risk that.” Din cut in, and even though he was grappling to keep the intense worry within his gut from spilling out, you were hopelessly battling the trauma-ingrained panic of what his words meant to you.

He might have been looking out for your safety, but your irrational mind was already jumping to conclusions and you could not stop it. After all, Din had no ties to you besides a promise built on a foundation of good will and blind trust. What would really stop him from finding another ship and leaving you here? The Razor Crest was an aging ship anyways, and he had more than enough credits for an upgrade.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Mando assured, walking past you and towards the hatch that was now lowering and opening to the outside, “It shouldn’t take me all night, but if it does, don’t come hunting for me. I can’t risk you being caught.”

“Din, please don’t-”

Your words died as he walked down the hatch and off into the mid afternoon light.

“Please don’t leave me,” You whispered to yourself.

If he’d spared just one moment to look at your face, Din would have seen the anguish there. He hadn’t looked, though, because something had changed so fundamentally within the bounty hunter when he’d stood so close to you just moments ago.

Din had peered down at you, taking in the beauty of your face and your very soul, and had realized the extent of what he’d do for you. More accurately, Din had realized that there were no limits to what he’d do, give, endure to ensure your safety. He’d always been a natural protector, but this was different. You were different. And Din knew that one more look into your haunted eyes would have him setting course for whatever shithole Vince Hanon lived in and slaughtering him just so you could live with a peace of mind.

So Din kept walking, and left you in the Crest. He left you, not knowing that you did not believe he’d come back. He left you, unaware that you were already beginning to fray with the lies your mind was bellowing down upon you.

He left you, and all you could think about was what would happen if you never saw him again.

#din djarin angst #din djarin #din djarin oneshot #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #fluff #angst #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin fluff #din djarin x female reader #din x reader #star wars #mando x reader #din djarin x f!reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal

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punk-o-ween · 1 year ago

Note

hi there👋🏼 it's me again (non-sexual touching with Din) since I might be here again, just think of me as your friendly neighbourhood AceAnon.

i humbly request another Din Djarin fluff drabble in which Din is mesmerised by the way reader looks at him when he takes his helmet off❤️ (they're married at this point) and he asks her why she's looking at him like that and she goes "I don't think it's fair that you're been hiding that pretty face all this time" and he's just blushing profusely because 1.she thinks he's pretty and 2.she looks at him like he hung the stars

again, feel free to ignore me.

omg hiya aceanon! so sorry this took decades I was going through a huge writers block! hope you enjoy

(and thanks to @letusbeseventeen for helping with the beginning ilysm pequeño huevo)

New Faces [d. djarin]

word count: 814 | rating: G | pairing: gn!reader x mandalorian (let me know if i used any pronouns)

☆ Now newly wedded, you finally see your riduur’s face for the first ever time

content/warnings: just fluffy fluff! <3, not proofread

The two of you limped into the Crest after a tiring mission. Thankfully, the both of you only had minor injuries but you were still in pain after trying to wrap up the small cut you got from that mission.

It was now surprisingly quiet, a bit too quiet you thought. You sat in the passenger seat with Grogu in hand while Din settled in the pilot seat, pressing buttons to get the Crest started up. You were both trying to unwind and finally rest but you couldn’t help and observe your husband, looking at his cold and stoic figure. He looked..uncomfortable. He looked in pain after that mission, sore. You noticed how he didn’t have any of his other armor on, except his helmet. The helmet that kept his face from showing to you, or anyone for that matter.

You remember him saying he might show you soon, now that the two of you were married but now, it’s like he’s sort of forgotten. You didn’t want to bug him about it though because if he took it off, he’d be going against his creed, his people. You couldn’t help but ask though, feeling sort of bad once it came out of your mouth.

“Do you have a reason why you haven't decided to take off your helmet around me yet orrrr... cause surely it would be more comfy after that mission…right?”

Din turned around to look at you as your face clearly showed how sorry you were for asking that. You stared into the T-shaped visor of his helmet as it was so quiet, you could hear Grogu’s soft snores coming from your lap.

“Possibly.” was all he said. You knew he probably wasn’t comfortable with that question and you regretted it once it actually sunk in. You decided that you’d let him actually get comfortable and not force him. He’ll show you one day.

Little did you know, today was that day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of you were now relaxed in your seats, you dozing off sometimes and Din smiled sweetly at you, admiring your features. He’s always wondered how you could ever love a man like him, let alone marry.

You felt someone staring at you so you opened your eyes slowly and saw your Mandalorian looking at you. “What are you staring at?” you smirked.

“You, cyar’ika.” he started. “Look, sorry for the way I sounded when I said that. I just didn’t know how to react.”

You looked at Din, and how his body language spoke millions as he said this. Then, he did something you wouldn’t have expected him to do. Especially not today.

His hands went up to the sides of his helmet, as if he was about to take it off. You panicked slightly, feeling like it was your fault even to have the idea to reveal his face. You should have never asked that question, you thought to yourself but Din looked as if he wanted to do so. “Are you sure?” you asked softly as you put your hand on his. “Yes, I want to. I want to see you from my own eyes, your beauty, and not from this helmet.”

The helmet hissed as he took it off and Maker, were you mesmerized. It's like you were looking at him as if he hung up all the stars in the galaxy.

His hair was curly, quite ruffled and messy from it being in the helmet all the time. His eyes were a dark brown as he looked at you softly and lovingly. His nose was aquiline with a small curve. His lips were a slight pink and curved up into a nervous and sheepish smile, wondering what you were thinking and you wanted to kiss them so badly. He had a mustache that decorated his top lip with patchy stubble along his jaw.

Din had a small blush painted on his face as he looked at your mesmerized expression. He was slightly nervous at how quiet you were, but he noticed your mouth was a bit agape as you stared at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?” he chuckled nervously. Sometimes you’ve always wondered what he looked like under there, and you were not disappointed in this moment.

“Well I don’t think it’s fair you’ve been hiding that pretty face all this time.”

Din was definitely flustered now knowing you think he’s pretty. You cupped his face and traced his jaw, just trying to feel his texture. You caressed his cheek as he leaned into your touch. You never took your eyes off him and he never did you. This was the first time the two of you had skin-to-skin contact, and it felt magical.

You both just sat there and enjoyed each other's company. You were overjoyed to know that there was some softness behind that helmet.

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samspenandsword · 2 years ago

Text

The Fields of Sorgan: Din Djarin/Reader (Fem)

Summary: When Mando takes the job on Sorgan, he runs into the reality that he’s never had to take care of a baby before. Let alone a non-human baby. Luckily, the woman housing him is more than happy to help. Pairing: Din Djarin/Reader; fem!reader with no mentions of her appearance. Rating: GEN — SFW Warnings: None — allusions to violence, small amount of language, domestic bliss, fluff, ridiculous amount of baby and child antics, topics relating to being/becoming parents (NO PREGNANCY) some angst towards the end. Word Count: 4.3k

When you and your sister-in-law Omera volunteered to house the ones who promised to help repel the attachs and raids on your village, you hadn't quite been expecting who actually came. One was a woman, tall and obviously strong with dark hair. She left quickly with Omera, Winta and her million questions bounding along right behind. But the other, the one who followed behind you with steps quieter than his armor seemingly should've allowed, was the Mandalorian. You'd never met a Mandalorian before, though you'd certainly heard of them. Even on Sorgan, you'd been told stories of the greatest warriors in the galaxy.

Mando was quiet as he followed you, weaving around the pools and paddies of krill your village farmed to brew spotchka. You lived around the outskirts of the village, closer to the treeline than anyone else. You had your small hut, and your barn, equally small. You hoped it would be enough for the warrior, but something told you he had slept in worse conditions than a small barn.

He himself was quiet, which you imagined helped him sell the whole brooding-warrior-in-beskar image he wholly embodied, but as you came back into the barn, carrying a pile of hand-stitched and woven cushions and blankets, he thanked you.

"I appreciate it."

He had a soft voice, with a mild gruffness behind the modulator. You couldn't tell if the gruffness was natural or if it was simply a result of him not talking much.

"It's no trouble, really. I appreciate everything you're doing for us. I know we weren't able to pay what a man like you would usually make."

His weight shifted a little, caught out, but you didn't allow him to feel awkward for long, disappearing once more. When you returned, only a moment later, you set down a bassinet not far from Mando's makeshift cot.

Mando's baby, or foundling, you supposed, was cute. In an ugly sort of way. You'd never seen a lifeform like him before. He was little, green, and wrinkly, with wispy hair on his head. His ears were the size of his entire body, his eyes huge and curious, and he wore clothing that could've doubled as a sack for potatoes.

You couldn't help but smile at him. "Hi, little one." At your voice, the baby cooed, raising his arms up in a clear request to be held. After a subtle nod from Mando, you obliged the baby.

"Ooh, you are a cutie, aren't you? You're going to be spoiled rotten. Are you hungry, baby? I bet you're hungry. Let me get some food for Mando and then I'll get some bone broth for you."

You soon learned that the baby was a bottomless pit when it came to food. He truly would eat all day if you and Mando let him. Thankfully, he was occupied most days by the village children, who were absolutely delighted to have the child as a playmate. He spent the days both before and after the attack running around the paddies with the other children. And came back with his insatiable appetite. You might be annoyed by it if he wasn't so damn cute.

And if you didn't have such a soft spot for his father.

You'd only referred to Mando as the child's father once, and you had seen the way he shifted. He obviously wasn't sure what to make of the term, so you'd never used it again. Eventually, in the days following the successful defense of your village, he told you how the child came to him: the bounty, the Imperial remnant, the rescue, the Guild coming after him, the Covert coming to his rescue. You weren't sure exactly why Mando was telling you everything, but you had the feeling he simply needed someone to vent to. He'd obviously never had that before, and you were happy to listen. A lot had changed for him in a simple matter of days, and he had no idea where his future would lead. But all the same, he had still helped you and your village, so you were happy to give him whatever he needed. Food, shelter, cover fire, an ear.

Childcare lessons.

It had been fairly obvious from the start that Mando had no idea how to take care of an infant, even if that baby was 50 years old. And even for you, who had helped to raise your younger siblings, there was a bit of a learning curve. The child wasn't human after all, so neither of you had been sure what was and wasn't safe for him to eat, or what would provide the best nutrients for him, and Sorgan didn't have the resources for either of you to go researching. Mando told you, with a dry sort of humor in his voice, that the child seemed happy eating everything from bone broth to live frogs. You'd grimaced.

"Let's hold off on the live frogs for now," you said. "I'm not sure all those bones are good for his digestion."

The baby was miffed every time the both of you scooped him up when he went after the frogs hopping around the paddies. But you both held firm.

But he definitely loved bath time.

He loved the splash Mando, and to blow bubbles under the water, smiling and giggling all the way. He loved when you made little swirlies in the water, and seemed genuinely upset when bath time was over. At least, until you wrapped him in a blanket warmed by the fire and let him snuggle with you.

He was a cuddler, that was for sure. Even with Mando, who was constantly covered with his beskar. The baby didn't seem to care. He simply liked being in the arms of others.

Especially you and Mando. Though he loved toddling after Winta and the other kids as well.

He was a good sleeper, too. Sometimes, he could be fussy when he was put down, but he usually fell asleep and stayed asleep.

Though there were definitely harder nights. Nights where he woke up, wailing and crying.

The first night it had happened, it had taken you a moment to realize what was happening, unused to the sound of a baby crying in your home anymore. It was a few days after the attack, and the town had been sleeping soundly for the first time in what felt like months. But as the baby continued to cry, you stood up and padded out to the barn.

Mando was kneeling at the baby's bassinet, awkwardly, shushing him like he was a too-loud droid and not a baby. Feeling a little amused, you knocked on the door slightly, announcing your presence.

The slump of Mando's shoulders either meant that he was relieved to see you, or that he was guilty the baby had woken you up.

Maybe both, but you didn't mind.

"Hi, baby," you cooed gently, padding towards the bassinet. You kept your voice soothing, gentle, warm. The baby had fat tears rolling out of his big eyes, and though you weren't sure what was wrong, you knew the baby needed to be held right now.

You just didn't think it was you he wanted to be held by at the moment.

"Go ahead, Mando. Pick him up."

He hesitated slightly, but stood and gingerly lifted the child from the bassinet. You huffed with amusement. He was holding the baby so awkwardly, like a bomb about to go off.

"Closer," you instructed, gently guiding the baby into the Mandalorian's chest, which you realized was beskar-free. For perhaps the first time since you'd met him. "Hold him closer."

You kept your hand on the baby's little back, soothingly rubbing it as he released a little hiccup and continued to cry.

"Rub his back," you said, taking Mando's hand and pressing it to where yours had just been. You kept your hand over his. It was the first time you'd seen him without gloves as well, and his skin was warm against yours. You tried not to dwell on that. "Like this. It grounds him."

Mando slowly rubbed the child's back, a little awkwardly still, but you could tell he was trying.

"Rock gently," you continued. "Just a gentle shift of your weight, side to side, with the barest bounce. Yeah, just like that."

Mando slowly rocked the baby, your hand still covering his own. Your hand had come to smooth over the child's wispy hair. Mando eased closer so you could continue more easily. You felt his proximity more keenly than you cared to admit.

You swallowed.

"Talk to him," you said next.

"About what?" Mando asked, sounding a little confused.

"Anything. Everything. Just let him hear your voice."

Slowly, and maybe a little unsurely, Mando began to talk. He was clearly unused to making idle chat, and you smiled amusedly as he began to list the specs of his ship. A Razor Crest, he said. How it was pre-Empire. The engine speed and capabilities. The weapons systems. Both spec and modified. How he'd built a chamber into the ship so he could freeze his bounties in carbonite.

Slowly, but surely, the baby began to calm down, his cries quieting to sniffles and hiccoughs, and eventually fully ceasing, his little face smushed into Mando's chest as he slept once more. Mando fell silent again too, slowly, and a little tensely, replacing the child into his bassinet. You gently tucked him in, and the baby continued to sleep soundly.

You gave Mando's arm a gentle squeeze. He didn't tense or jump at the contact for once. You tried to chalk it up to him being tired.

"Why was he like that?"

You chewed on your cheek a little, wondering how to answer.

"Children get scared, Mando. What happened a few days ago was scary. And he may not have seen everything, but children pick up on their surroundings more than you'd think. We were tense and scared, so he was too. He could've had a nightmare."

Mando was still, like he'd never considered the possibility. You squeezed his arm once more.

"I got him next time. We can take turns."

And with that, you both went back to bed.

But the next morning, things were undeniably a little different between the two of you. It became less of Mando taking care of the child while you gave tips. More of you both taking care of the baby. You ended up sewing up a quick sling for the baby so he could be with you when you woke early and made breakfast, letting Mando sleep in a little further. Or when you did laundry and mended clothes from the village. There had been one day where the baby had been particularly insistent on staying close to Mando, and it had been more than a little funny to see the baby, smiling and swinging his little arms from the sling around Mando's beskar-covered chest.

The memory of Mando's sigh still made you giggle.

You also remembered when you'd taken the baby with you as you ventured out for a hunt. As one of the only people in the village other than Omera who was proficient with firearms (your brother, her husband, had taught you both), you often brought meat and foraged plants back to the village. The baby had been strangely thrilled when you'd brought down a particularly large grinjer.

You'd chuckled at him, dropping a kiss to his little head. Traveling with a Mandalorian was going to do weird things to the child's sense of humor.

The days came and went in relative normality. And somehow, the warrior-in-beskar and his little foundling simply became part of the village. As did the former shock trooper, who you found a bit intimidating, but good-humored. Winta seemed to really like her, and Omera seemed happier and more at ease than you'd seen her in a long time. And the longer the village went with peaceful, raid-free nights, the more it seemed to settle. Children laughed and played more, the work in the paddies no longer seemed so draining, and the village simply began to feel like home again.

But a stone grew in your gut with each passing day. Because you were beginning to wake with the fear that each day would be the last you got to spend with the Mandalorian and child.

And that day soon came.

It was a nice day. The sun was shining and the sky was blue with lots of fat, fluffy clouds. It was perfectly warm with the more pleasant breeze wafting over the grass fields around your village, just before the thick trees of the forest.

You'd packed some lunch for the kid, trying (and failing) to keep him from slurping it all up in five minutes flat before he toddled off to chase some dragonflies.

You smiled, shaking your head fondly from where you sat on a well-worn, well-loved blanket. It had become the baby's favorite in the weeks he'd spent with you. He didn't want to go anywhere without it.

You were so, so conscious of the fact that Mando was sitting just beside and slightly behind you. So close you were aware of every breath he took. So close that all you had to do was lean over an inch, and your shoulder would brush against the armor on his chest.

"It's... very nice here."

Your good mood dropped. You'd been fearing, expecting this for days now. But it didn't stop the swell of disappointment in your gut. The words made you feel chilled, as if the warm midday sun had simply decided not to touch you. The fond smile that had graced your face was no longer there, replaced with something grave.

"It is."

Your voice was level. More level than Mando had ever heard it. He winced beneath his helmet. You knew where this was going, and it made you upset.

He had made you upset.

It hurt him more than he wanted to acknowledge.

"He's very happy here."

Mando's helmet tilted in the direction of the child, who paid the two of you no mind as he chased dragonflies and butterflies over the grass in your peripheral.

"He is."

There was a pregnant pause, and Mando realized you were going to force him to say what he meant. What he was thinking. What he was feeling.

You were good at that, in a way no one else he'd met was. He both loved and hated it.

"We raised some hell here a few weeks back. It's too much action for a village like yours. Word travels fast." There was a pause, as Mando swallowed and forced himself to continue, unable to meet your heavy, upset, knowing gaze. Even from behind the sanctuary of his helmet. "There are kids here. And everyone's finally happy again. I can't stay knowing it could bring more attention to your home. More danger. It's time to cycle the charts and move on."

Your throat began to tighten, and it took physical effort for you to keep your voice level when you responded. And when you did, it was still in barely more than a whisper.

"When do you want to tell him?"

The two of you looked over towards the baby, playing happily in the grass. The sight of his little mud-stained outfit, and the idea that you might not get to cuddle and hold and feed him again made your eyes sting too.

"I'm leaving him here."

You whipped your head back around, mouth falling open with shock.

"What?"

"He's happy here." Mando's voice, gruff as it usually was, contained a softness to it you'd never heard before. He almost sounded... sad.

"Mando, no -"

"I can't take him." The softness left Mando's voice, replaced with a vehemence that made it sound more solid, more organic than his modulator should've allowed. "I'm a bounty hunter, not a caregiver. You showed me that. You can take care of him better than I ever could. I track bounties for days, sometimes weeks at a time. And I'm wanted now. I can't bring him with me and knowingly put him in danger. Knowing I can't provide for him like he needs. The credits your village gave me is barely enough to cover fuel for my ship, let alone food or toys or new clothes like he needs. I —!"

Mando's voice never increased in volume, the two of you still speaking in hushed tones so as not to gain the baby's attention.

"Traveling with me..." Mando's voice was soft again, and this time you were certain of the sadness in his tone, "that's no life for a kid."

Your throat was still tight. Maker, you were upset. But you couldn't deny Mando had some good points. His lifestyle was dangerous even before he went rogue and rescued the child. And now, he would be forced to take jobs with less pay and more danger than before, now that the Guild was looking for him, thirsty for retribution. It wasn't a stable life. Not by any means.

And children needed stability. If not from a lifestyle, then from people. Mando could provide neither.

You could provide both.

But Maker, you were upset!

"It'll break his heart," you whispered. You didn't add that Mando's leaving would break yours too.

"He'll get over it. We all do."

His words made you angry this time.

"Get over what? Losing a parent? Or being abandoned."

Mando actually flinched.

"That's how he sees you, Mando," you said. Now that you'd started, you couldn't stop. "You rescued him. You saved him. You were the first positive figure in his life in who knows how long. You're as good as his parent, Mando. And he needs a parent."

Mando looked at you, gaze piercing into you. "He has a mother."

The words that once might have made your heart feel warm made you, instead, feel cold.

"He needs a father, too."

A tense silence fell between the two of you, broken only by the happy squeals of the child, some feet away. He was now digging in the dirt. Maybe looking for a worm.

Or maybe a frog to eat.

Your anger melted away as you looked back at Mando. You knew this was upsetting him as much as it was you. In the weeks he'd been in your village, you'd seen how much the warrior had grown to care for the baby. The increasing involvement in his daily routine. The way Mando cuddled him closer on bad nights, the way he spoke more, the way he helped you with bath time, even took care of the baby in the mornings to allow you more sleep. You'd seen the way he'd grown to see the child as his charge. Maybe even as his own.

Just like you had.

You scooted towards Mando, sitting as close to him as you possibly could without being in his lap. He didn't shy away from the press of your legs against his, and his gloved hands covered your own as you reached up to grip the cowl around his shoulders.

"I'm not saying this to make you feel worse, Mando. But he's not going to understand that you're doing this for his own good. All he'll know is that you left him. That is what he's going to remember, fifty years from now, when he's grown and talking and has maybe grown out of his habit of eating live frogs."

Mando's shoulders shook in a silent chuckle. A sad chuckle.

"You don't have to do this," you whispered. You clutched the fabric tighter in your fingers. "I know your Creed is important to you, and I would never ask or expect you to abandon it. But... you could stay. The village wants you to stay." You bit your lip, voice lowering until he nearly couldn't hear you. "I want you to stay."

Mando's hands squeezed your own, and ever-so-gently, leaned his helmeted forhead to yours. You exhaled shakily, blinking back the wetness in your eyes. Because even as you'd said it, you knew it simply wasn't possible.

Mando couldn't stay.

"Cyar'ika, I —" But he stopped. Because you'd stiffened. And in a blink, you'd grabbed his pistol and shot into the trees.

Mando whirled around in time to see a dark figure fall to the ground.

"Get the kid! Get back to the village!"

He grabbed his phase-pulse blaster and sprinted towards the trees. You gripped the pistol still in one hand, scooped up the scared child in the other, and ran back to the village.

Omera and the trooper, Cara, met you.

"What happened?" Cara questioned.

"There was a figure in the trees," you panted. You cuddled the baby close. You'd stared at the edges of the forest every day for your entire life. You knew what they looked like. You knew when something was different. "They had a rifle."

Cara darted towards the trees, drawing a blaster of her own.

Omera wrapped an arm around you. "Come on, let's get inside."

Mando didn't return until nearly an hour later. There was a cup of tea clutched in your hands. You'd settled the baby down for a nap. And though he'd fussed and refused, your rocking and singing had eventually lulled him into slumber. Mando stopped in the doorway before slowly approaching. Something about his posture made you feel dread.

"Bounty hunter?"

"Yes."

"Was he tracking you?"

There was a pause. "No."

Your eyes closed. "The kid?"

Mando didn't need to answer. He sat down beside you, shoulders tight with tension.

"They'll keep coming for him, won't they?" you said.

"Yes. They knew he's here."

You swallowed hard. You could not imagine what had led to someone putting a bounty out on a child.

You took a deep, shuddering breath. "I'll get his stuff."

But when you went to stand, a gloved hand stopped you.

Mando didn't say anything for a few minutes, but it was clear there was something on his mind. So you waited, squeezing the hand that held yours.

"Come with me."

The words came so suddenly and so quietly you were sure you'd imagined them. But you blinked, looking into his visor, and saw the sheepish, almost hesitant set of his shoulders.

"What?"

"Come with me." Mando stepped closer, gripping your hand more surely. "The kid can't stay here. And neither can I. The bounty hunters will keep coming. They won't stop. The pay-out for him alone, let alone both is too high. But... you were right." He squeezed your hand again. "We were both right. He needs stability. He needs a caregiver. A parent. Someone who can watch him when a bounty is too dangerous to bring him. Someone who can take care of him and my ship when a bounty takes me away for days at a time. Someone who can provide a more consistent, stable presence than me."

You were sure you looked a picture right now. You had never left your planet before. Barely ever left your village. The life of a farmer was one you had been born into, and while you had entertained the fantasy of something different in your youth, you had been forced to accept that your place was on Sorgan, in your quiet little village where everyone grew and married and farmed krill.

"I don't know anything about taking care of a ship."

"I'll teach you."

"I can't fight."

"You can shoot. You took that bounty hunter down in one shot from several meters away. And you're strong. Farming has made you strong. With some training from me, you'd be able to hold your own. You'd be able to protect yourself, and him if it came to it. And it'll come to it."

There it was, the admission that if you accepted, your life would become far more dangerous than you were used to. The recent raids on your village had been the most danger you'd ever experienced before. But for Mando, it had been just another day. And part of you still couldn't believe what you were hearing. Go with Mando? Leave Sorgan? For real?

But the young spirit in you who'd never gotten to stretch their wings or see the stars beyond Sorgan was roaring at you to accept. No matter how reckless or irresponsible it may be. You knew it'd be difficult. You knew the learning curve would be a steep one. You knew there'd likely be days where you wanted to get angry and yell and cry. Days where Mando wanted to storm off and grumble and get frustrated at having to suddenly share his space with two more people, one of them a child. You knew there'd be hard days, and maybe, maybe in the end you'd grow to regret it. Decide to leave and barter passage back to Sorgan on cargo ships and merchant vessels that came to Sorgan to pick up spotchka.

But then, Mando's words from earlier rang in your ears.

"He needs a mother."

The baby sleeping in your barn was the closest you'd ever come to having a child of your own. To being a mother. And even though it had only been a few weeks, the stinker had thoroughly worked his way into your heart. You literally couldn't imagine your life without him anymore. And you looked at the beskar-covered Mandalorian in front of you. The figure who'd come into your wet little village, armed to the teeth, and saved you all. The man who'd also wormed his way into your heart without even trying. The closest you'd come to truly falling in love.

And you knew you wouldn't regret it.

"Give me thirty minutes to pack?"

Mando touched his forehead to yours once more, squeezing your hand in his. The tense set of his shoulders relaxed into something far happier.

"You have twenty."

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thewritergx · 1 month ago

Text

Masked Stranger: Mandalorian x F!Reader

Summary: Rui works in her family’s shop helping tourist and local member of her community. One day, a strange man covered head to toe in Baskar walks in.

Warnings: Talks about hunting animals: Catching fish. SMUT containing: Fingering, Oral sex (male receiving), Unprotected sex, Lowkey breeding kink, Pet names (Sir, Baby, Little girl, Good girl).

Word Count: 6K

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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The sun hits my face in the morning, making me squint my eyes and turn in my bed covers. I do not want to go out today, and I regret my sheer curtains. I glance at the clock on my bedside table, 6:27 AM. I think about staying in bed an extra hour, but I know my father will be pissed if I am late to the shop today. You would think he would give me a day or two off every once in a while, seeing as how I run the entire place.

The planet of Sesid may offer beautiful beaches, but it comes with the awful tourists and ‘too cool’ locals.

Our shop sits on the cusp of tourist’s and mainlander’s attractions. Everyday, I see out-of-planet visitors, Draedans, and other local species. The tourists are usually rude, too loud, and let their children break everything. Many are rich members of organizations I do not care to know anything about, always bringing young women who rarely speak but often offer soft smiles. Sadly, they are also our best customers, often buying extra beach towels, paying for surfing lessons, tipping the cashiers. The Draedans are also rude and loud, but they respect our business and always tip. A few help around in the shop too. Trenk is my favorite. He works with me the most and is in charge of catching our live fish and crab. He keeps our fish business afloat, but has had trouble out fishing major stores around us.

My father opened the shop when he was a young boy, promising to make a living that would support him and his mother, my avó. Most species I see in the shop speak basic, but my father has kept his mother’s language, Kenari, alive in our small family.

I finally role over in my bed, throwing my blankets off and exposing my body. The moist air hits my skin. I rub the sleep out of my eyes then make my way to the bathroom, turning on the shower and undressing. Under the water I feel my body wake from the shock of the cold drops hitting me.

I throw on my bathing suit top, two black triangles tried around my neck, one small string keeping it in place. I wear a simple black bottom, the elastic material immediately digging into my ass cheeks. Over my swimsuit, I wear a pink sundress, easily removable but giving me more modest coverage for my walk to the shop. I imagine the tide will be perfect for a midday swim. The shop is a 5 minute walk from my small but comfortable apartment.

7:50AM, I step inside the shop. My pai (father) is already folding towels on the checkout counter. “Ten minutes early meu amor. Very good. Now come help me finish this batch,” my pai often greets me this way, working on a task and without looking up to see if it is actually me. I chuckle at him.

“I am often early, pai. You must start trusting me to do more around the shop”, a conversation we are often having. My father does not like to admit that he is aging, that he needs help. I do not like to admit that this fact scares me. Instead I joke, calling him an old man. This time my father chuckles. “You are a funny young lady, you can’t run merda.”

Several hours pass. I feel my stomach growl. My pai has been gone the last 45 minués, leaving me in charge and without a lunch break. Trenk brought in a beautiful trout he caught this morning. Descaled and on ice, it waits to be grilled. “Hello?” I hear from the counter in front of me. I stop fantasizing about the fresh fish and snap back to the reality for job.

“Alrighty, that will be 12 credits, please,” I say to the sticky child whose face is covered in a red, sweet slush. I hear the doorbell ding as another customer walks in. I let out a deep sigh. I look up expecting the usual customer, only to be greeted by a stranger in an important looking uniform. It is a thick black material that looks protective yet silky. On the most vulnerable parts of the body, rusty silver metal sits. The stranger is covered head to toe, a heavy helmet concealing their face. In the back, a long cape drapes down. I have never seen anyone dressed like him before, especially not with the intent to go to the beach.

“H-how can I help you…sir?” I sound nervous when I speak, something I usually never experience as the man…at least I think he is a man, stares at me intensely.

He cocks his head to the side, I assume in a confused manner. After a moment he lets out a small chuckle. “Yes, I hear from the locals that your shop sells the finest fish available. I am looking to buy enough to last four, maybe five days.”

I smile. I am glad my pai’s shop is holding a standard the locals set. “Um y-yes, we have a small selection today. Not many bites this week. We have three tuna and one sea bass available right now, but they will not last that long without a cooling system,” I explain.

“I will take the sea bass,” the man states plainly.

“Okay, I will just need a name for the order.” I began to fill out the information needed to complete the sale.

The man lets out another chuckle. I do not understand what is funny this time. “You do not know my people?” He asks.

This time, I let out an awkward laugh. “Am I s-supposed to?” Now my head is cocked in confusion.

“I suppose not… I just thought with the shop so popular you would have seen one of my people before. I am a Mandalorian, Mando.” I notice now that his voice is too deep and vibrates my entire being “at least that is what my friends call me.”

I write Mando on the form, trying not to look too interested in the man in front of me. “Okay, we have a few services available. We descale, debone, season, and cook the bass to your liking, you pick it up before the end of the day. Or you take it as is,” I smile, trying to remain casual. “The services are 20 credits, ‘as is’ will be 6 credits.”

“I will take the services.” The man reaches into a small bag, pulling out the credits and playing them in my hand. I notice the orange tips of his gloved hand as it brushes against mine.

For a moment I am stuck admiring the man. I force myself out of my illusions and explain that the fish will be done in two to three hours, the last of the fish cooked before we close.

The rest of the day is filled with me standing at the counter ringing up the customers, offering promotional deals, and denying the obvious flirts coming from the married rich men. It is around 6:00 PM. I flip the sign reading “open” that sits in the shops window.

I head back to the “employees only” door, ready to be back in my apartment. I feel my shoulders relax as I am finally alone in the store. Trenk sometimes stays to help me close, but with the lack of bites, he is forced to go out at dawn. The perfect casting time.

In the quiet of the shop, I hear the main door ding open. “Sorry, we’ve closed,” I yell across the shop. I hear no response and decide to walk back to the counter. I guess this asshole thinks their money is more important than my time.

As I get back behind the counter I am treated again by my mystery man from earlier in the day. “Oh, s-sorry. I am usually very good at remembering who is coming to pick up”. Although I was pissed a moment ago about the late customer, I feel a tingle of excitement at the man in front of me.

“It is okay, um.” he stands motionless in front of me. I wonder what he is thinking. After a moment he finally lets out another soft chuckle. “Your name, I did not get it”.

“Oh uh, my n-name is Rui,” I mumble. It is a name carried down by many women in my family.

“Rui, very pretty.” Again, the man and I remain motionless. I feel a shifting start in our energy.

“It is my avó’s name… t-thank you.” I feel my skin tingle and suddenly I become aware of my messy hair and sweaty forehead.

“My fish?” The man finally asks and I startle back to my job.“Oh, yes I-I am sorry sir.” I hurry to our warmer in the back, grabbing the sea bass wrapped in reusable wax paper. It is warm and smells amazing. A flavor only Trenk can achieve.

“Mando,” he responds back, “just call me Mando.”

Back behind the counter, I hand him the fish. This time, I see his hands are exposed. His skin is a golden color, like the sunrise on Sesid. “Okay, Mando. You are all set. Is there anything else I can do for you?” My customer service voice is back on.

“Eat with me?” He responds, “I know you must be hungry from working.” His hands still press against mine, staying in limbo as we pass over the fish.

“Oh uh, um.. I can do that.” Usually, I would never allow myself to be this comfortable around a stranger, much less one that does not show any part of their body to the world. “W-would you, uh, like to go to my a-apartment? I live only a block away.”

He breaks his hands away from mine. I weirdly miss the feeling. I am not sure the sensation my body is feeling. “Yes, sounds nice,” he answers with confidence. Not once have I heard this breathe change patterns or his voice stutter.

Mando and I close up the shop. I place the sea bass in a paper sack and slip it around my shoulder. We walk side by side the five minutes of alleyways it takes to my front door. His hand brushes up against mine a few times. I wonder if it is purposeful and how far I will allow it to go.

“I do not have people over often, so don’t judge my place too hard.” I suddenly feel nervous as we get to the door. I wonder if I am feeling regret or embarrassment at inviting a stranger into my home.

“I live on an old metal ship with a tiny green savage. Your place beats mine.” As we enter I feel him place his ungloved hand against the small of my back. I decide I like the feeling and I let him keep it there.

We walk inside and I place the fish inside my oven, keeping it warm while I make arroz, a white rice. Mando sits at my counter, watching as I plate the rice and remove the fish from the warm oven. I cut the fish in two halves, giving him the bigger piece and place them on top of the rice. Over the fish and rice I drizzle a homemade sauce, one my dad has been making since he was my age. Mano looks at me with his head cocked to the side again. That confused face again. “Is something wrong,” I ask. I wonder if my voice sounds as concerned as I truly am.

“You really do not know my people, huh? I am a mandalorian. You have heard of us?” He faces me now, turning his body toward me as we sit on the small stools in my kitchen.

“I’m sorry, I tend to keep to myself most days. I have really never heard of a mandalorian. What do you do?” I notice at that moment I have many questions about the man and his culture.

He brushes my hair behind my ear and I smile. “So innocent”. I feel my face heat up and my body start to shiver. He softly clears his throat and for a moment pauses. He removes his hand and sits a bit more upright.

“Um, my people are bounty hunters. I am on the planet looking for a Draedan.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a picture. A Draedan with a huge scar that goes from the top of his forehead to his neck, looks plainly in the camera. “We do not show our faces, ever, to anyone. We do not tell people our names.”

I probably looked shocked for a moment. Once I process the information I let my face relax. “That sounds lonely.” I say softly, placing my hand on the side of his helmet. I feel the cold metal press against my hand.

After a moment of quiet, I chuckle lightly. “How do you eat then?”

He laughs a real, deep, laugh this time. “I will turn away from you and you will turn away from me. I am trusting you though, not to look.” Suddenly his voice is serious and pleading at the same time.

“Okay, I understand.” I turn around slowly, holding the plate of food in my lap. I feel him shifting and hear a heavy metal being placed on my counter beside him. The moment feels strangely intimate, and I am scared I will turn around. Scared I’ll break his trust. For a moment I think about it. I would like to see his hair. I wonder if he has a big nose, if his face is scared like the Draedan in the picture.

“I will be back to buy more fish. The locals did not lie, it is amazing.” For a moment I do not recognize who is talking. His voice is more gentle, less raspy. For some reason, I feel a fire in me igniting at the sound of it.

For a while, we eat in silence. I feel his back press against mine. Even in this position, I feel the weight of the cold metal. “So um, I…Can people see you body or is that off limits too?” I immediately feel stupid for asking.

“You can see my body…if you would like.” Finally I hear his breathing change patterns. I know mine has too. I feel a shiver run down my body, right to my most sensitive areas. “Would you.. like to, Rui?” He asks slowly.I feel unable to speak. I swallow and try to gain the words. My back is still pressed against his, and I am happy he cannot see how flushed my face has become. “Y-yes, sir.” It comes out a whisper, hardly heard by the Mandalorian.

“Just Mando,” he states. Again, his voice is back to the confident normalcy I have grown to.

“Yes, Mando.” I hesitantly reply. “W-would uh, you l-like to see mine?”

Mando says nothing back. I feel him moving around and his plate cling gently on the counter. I know he is standing behind me now because he places his hand against my cheek brushing the soft skin. I hear his boots take a few steps and he is now standing in front of me, pushing my legs apart to stand in between them. He takes the plate from my lap, sitting it next to his. He grazes my cheek again, running his hand down to my shoulder. His fingers reach the straps of my dress and play with the thin string.

“I like this outfit. Do you wear dresses often?” His hand moves down lower, hovering just above my breast.

“Only on days I am expecting to teach suffering lessons.” I answer too matter-of-factly. I wonder if I’ve ruined his flirty vibe.

Mando laughs. I decide I love the sound of it. Helmet or not. “May I take it off?” He asks.

“Y-yes, Mando.” My body begins to shake, and my voice is a higher pitch than usual.

Gently, he picks me up off the stool and places my feet on the wooden floorboards. He stands in front of me and wraps his hands around my shoulders, pulling my dress softly to the floor. Immediately, I feel my body exposed to the air.

“Shit. You are so pretty, Rui. May I touch you?” His hands are by his side now and remain motionless.

“Yes, sir…Mando. Please.” I can’t believe I am begging for this man already. It has been too long since I have been with anyone else. Longer than I care to admit.

“If you keep calling me sir, I might not be able to stop.” Even with the helmet on, I swear I feel his hot breath against me. Gently, he moves his hands down to my breast, cupping a handful and messaging.

“You like when I call you that? Sir?” I look at him, where I believe his eyes would be.

He lets out a groan and begins to untie the small strap keeping my bikini top up.

“I have a feeling I would like any name that comes out of your mouth.” He places my nipples between two fingers, playing and tugging on them gently. I let out a soft moan, and bring my hands to his wrist, holding on as he continues.

“Fuck Mando, please. I-I think I need more.” My voice is desperate and already tired. “Can I please take this off?” I point to the metal plate on his chest, wanting to grab something, anything that is truly him.

“Soon baby girl, right now I want to make you feel good.”

I lead Mando to my bedroom, a soft lighting from the lamp in the corner filling the room. Mando places me gently on the bed. He stands in front of me and lifts my ass off the bed just enough to pull down my bottoms. I bring my legs together, unsure of my body at this moment.

Mando brings two fingers to my mouth, “Get these real wet, baby” he instructs. Immediately I began to suck, bobbing my head, twisting my tongue around them, and gathering as much salvia as my mouth will allow.

“That’s so good, little girl.” Mando softly begins to spread my legs, exposing my pussy to the cool air. I push back against him, making him use more force.

“Are you gonna make me get rough with you?” He says in a tone that I swear I see a crooked smile.

“No, sir” I say around his fingers. I wonder how rough he would get, if I allow him to.

“Good, Rui. Now let me see you.” He uses a demanding tone, but I feel safe. Like if I truly didn’t want to, he would stop and apologize.

I decide not to test him anymore, and slowly I spread my legs farther, giving him a real view. I trace my finger down my body and began to spread the lips of my pussy. I hear Mando let out a quite “fuck”. It sends shivers down my body.

Finally, Mando removes his finger from my mouth, satisfied with the amount of spit coating them. He brings them to my clit, lightly forming small circles. It is agonizing slow but melting my body.

“Oh shit, Mando. That feels good,” I breathe in between moans. His name rolls off of my tongue too gently, too satisfying.

“Such a sensitive little girl. How long has it been since this pussy was touched?” I feel his fingers speed up a bit, and he starts to approach my entrance.

“Two, no…three years.” I answer honestly but I feel embarrassed to admit it to him. There really had been no reason I waited so long to be intimate with anyone, other than the fact that every man on this watery planet seems to disgust and annoy me. Plus, I use my own toys. Although I admit it will never feel as good as another person, it keeps me from needing anyone else’s pleasure.

Mando’s fingers slow, almost to a stop. He looks at me and caresses my face.“I will take my time, then. Just relax, Rui.” He starts to speed up his fingers again, costing small moans out of me.

I feel him begin to insert one finger, and I let out a dazed gasp. Slowly, he inserts his index finger to his knuckle. He leaves it there for a moment before he begins to pull it out and pump it back in. I feel my pussy squeeze around it, sucking it farther inside me.

His other hand travels to my neck gently applying soft pressure. “T-that’s so tight,” Mando whispers, his voice dark and needy. I only let out a moan in response, too nervous to speak.

A few minutes pass of his finger pumping in and out before I start to feel him forming a “come here” motion, hitting my g spot.

“May I add another?” Mando releases his hand from my neck, slowly crassesing it down my body.

I breathe deeply, nodding my head.

“Let me hear you say it, little girl.” I feel him remove his finger entirely, waiting for my response.

“Yes, Mando. Please, add another. It feels so good”. My voice is shaky, almost a whimper.

“Good little girl.” He adds his fingers back in and immediately I feel a change in the tightness, an extra pressure added. This time, he curls his finger with more strength. Each motion he makes presses against my g spot with light force, making me more wet by the second.

“Oh fuck, I might come like that,” I plead. Mando responses with a groan, and I see him begin to palm himself throughout his jeans.

His pace grows steadily and I feel the pressure grow inside me.

“Fuck, yes baby. Cum on my fingers.” I hear him finally unzip his pants, removing his dick from the pressure of clothes.

I do as I’m told and feel myself tighten even more around his fingers. The pressure inside me finally breaks and I release all the stress my body has held throughout the day.

“Mmh, good girl. Look at the mess you made. Look so pretty cumming on my fingers.” He removes his fringers from inside me. I see the slick, hot wetness left on them and lick my lips. I wonder for a moment what I taste like but my thought it cut short when I feel him shove his fingers in my mouth again. It tastes hot, sticky. I moan and lick my wetness away, craving a different taste.

I sit up, placing my hands on his clothed thighs, finally paying more attention to the thick length of the man in front of me. He is big, bigger than any ex I’ve been with. I notice the tan, pink tip and the thickness. I hope it will fit in my mouth. “C-Can I um, suck it?” I ask nervously.

“Would you like to?” I hear a sense of hesitation in his voice.

“Yes, I would really like to.” I look up, making as much eye contact with him as the helmet will allow. I see myself in his vizer. I admire the shape of my ass, the roundness of my boobs.

I began to slowly lower his jeans, unveiling his balls and the golden skin of his thighs. I began to slowly kiss the skin around his member. I feel him place his hand on my head, lightly gripping my hair. Suddenly, I start to feel nervous. It has been centuries since I took anyone else in my mouth, and I feel my throat start to dry.

Before I start to doubt myself anymore, I decide to go for it and take the tip in my mouth. I open my mouth wide, careful not to hit him with my teeth.

“Oh shit, that’s it. Good little girl.” I look up and see Mano’s head is already tilted back, his grip in my hair tightening. I start to bob my head, making sure not to move pass the tip. I swirl my tongue, tasting the precum that has leaked out considerably. There is a hint of salt and sweat under the taste of warm vanilla. I hear Mondo’s groans grow louder and more frequently. I take it as a sign of success and move my mouth farther down his length. I allow him to hit the back of throat and let out a deep gag. I feel my split pile up and release him from my mouth before settling the spit on his tip. I begin pumping my hand down his member before returning it to my mouth.

“Fuck. Rui, you are doing so good.” I feel my heart flutter with content, my doubt slowly leaving my thoughts. Mando abruptly applies pressure to my head, forcing me down further. “Twist your hand while you're pumping me,” he demands.

I do as I’m told, wanting to please him as much as I can. I let out a “yes, Mando” as much as my full throat will allow me to.

Mando countines to use my mouth and push me down further. I try my hardest to keep my mouth open and breathe through my nose. After a few minutes he begins slowing his pace and losses his grip in my hair.

“If you keep letting me do that, I’m gonna cum before I even get a chance to feel you wrapped around me.” His beating is deep. I see his chest rising and falling under his gear.

“You liked it?” I ask with a glimmer of hope, whipping away the spit from my mouth and hands on the blanket under me.

“Your mouth is a paradise. I could stay inside it for days if you allowed me to.” Mando straightened up my hair, removing any mess his fingers may have made. I try not to let his statement go to my head and instead let out a polite thank you.

In this moment, I want so badly to kiss him, to suck a mark on his neck. Instead, I place a kiss on the cold metal of his chest. Silently, he teasingly removes the material cover his chest and the boots blocking his pants until he is left standing in only his helmet.

I feel excitement run throughout my body. I try to keep from shaking as I run my hands down his chest. I notice a few big scars scattered around his chest, stomach, a few on his arms. I kiss each of them, paying extra attention to one justt under his concealed neck. I wonder for a moment how he got each of them. Did they hurt? Are there any he wishes were gone? Does he enjoy having a badge of honor from his bounties? I notice one that's pinker than the rest, more fresh and angry looking. I run my finger over it lightly, taking in every detail of his body he will allow me.

Mando steps closer, cupping my chin in his hand. I nuzzle in his grip, feeling the rough calluses of his palm brush against me. Mando lays me down flat on the bed, my legs bent at the knees. He brings his body forward, starting to hover over me. He places his palms at the side of my head, lining up his pelvis with mine. I feel his cock lightly brush against the outside of my thigh and I shiver. I am unable to control by breathing anymore and I shake nervously.

“Tell me if it’s too much.” He says, his covered face just over mine.

“Yes, sir,” I nod, and spread my legs to give him easier access.

Mando starts to align the tip of his cock to my entrance. I grip one of his arms, preparing for the sensation of pressure as the first inch or two enter me. I let out a gasp, feeling him stretch me more than I ever have been. I feel my climax build already.

“Oh fuck, Mando.” I try to calm myself down and relax my body, “You’re so big”. I try not to moan too loud as I feel him finally press all the way in. He hits my cervix softly, causing more moans to leave my mouth. Mando waits for a moment, making sure I am ready for him to start moving.

I nod at his hesitantly. Gently, he moves his hips out. I feel his tip still inside before he moves back in again. He is so thick, I feel my walls almost reject him. He brushes again me g-spot, and I try not to wiggle away from him.

“So tight, so wet for me,” Mando whispers. I feel the vibration from the voice changer in the air. Manos bends his arms, his forearms now resting next to my head. His body is closer now, the full weight of him presses against me. His helmet rests at the side of my head, and I hear every groan and breath he makes. I wrap my legs around him, sinking him in further.

His trust get a bit faster and he hits my g-spot with more force. I can hear his skin slapping against mine and the sound of our wetness mixing. My moans become more of a cry as my body begs for more pressure. More of him. My hands travel down to his back and I try not to dig my nails too deep. Although from the sight of his scars, I’m sure he can take it.

“Fuck Mando, please.” I can hardly form words any longer.

“Please What, Rui? What do you need from me, little girl?

“Please, a little harder,” I say through gasps of air. Immediately he snaps his hips harder against me. I almost see stars before the pressure builds in me even more. “Yes, just like that. I’m about to cum.” After a few thrust he is pushing me over the edge and my legs are shaking around him. My walls grip him tighten and I swear my juices are leaking from my entrance.

“Good girl, cum all over this dick.” Mando speeds up even more, each thrust hammering my g-spot. Before I’m able to recover, I’m pushed over the edge again. This time my body is unable to prepare, and I let out a small scream.

I feel Mando’s thrust get messy, loosing his rhythm . His breath gets hotter, thicker and he is whispering dirty pet names in my ear.

“Fuck, baby. So so tight. Where should I finish?” It takes me a moment to process his question. Once I understand, I contemplate begging him to fill me up, drip down my thighs, and make me his. I try to throw the thought away and tell him to cum anywhere else, but I can’t force myself to stop thinking of the warm sensation.

“J-just wherever you want, anywhere.” It comes high pitched and needy.

“Tell me where, Rui. Where do you want it?” I hear the struggle in his voice, each word dragged out an extra syllable.

I let out a quite, unintelligible “I-inside me, please”.

“Good little girl, so sweet to me.” His hips hit me with a force I have never experienced, hitting my cervix so hard I swear it will leave a bruise. My nails are undeniably digging in his back, leaving marks that will last for days. I try not to scream anymore and bite down on Mando’s fingers he’s brought back inside my mouth. I feel small tears gather in the corners of my eyes.

After a few thrust, I hear Mando let out a string of curses. His fluid mixes with mine, and I feel a warm thick substance spill out of the side around Mando’s cock. He slows his hips and stays motionless inside me. After and a few moments, he gently pulls out and I whine form the lost of him.

He lays next to me as I try to stop my breathing and keeps moans from falling out of my mouth. My legs are still shaking and I feel unable to move. Mando notices my struggle, and brings me up to chest, laying on top of him.

“Shh little girl, I got you. You did so good for me.” Mando slowly rubs my back letting out more small “shh” sounds. After a few minutes, my breathing is relaxed and the shaking is less intense. I feel my eyes getting heavy as I relax into his warm body and before I can keep myself from the temptation, I am falling asleep in his arms.

#mando #the mandolarian #mando x reader #smut #mando smut #mando oc #mando fanfiction #mando x you #female reader #fem reader #oneshot

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cilil · 1 year ago

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Hi! I’m new to your blog and I don’t know if your requests are open ( if not I’m sorry just disregard this🫠) but if they are can you write something NSFW with Námo and a fem reader? Like maybe he sees her talking to someone in Mandos (like Feanor or someone) and gets jealous and then decides to remind her that she’s his? The spicier the better 🔥🔥🔥

Author's Note: I haven't officially opened requests for stuff outside of small events and challenges, but I was planning to do that sometime so why not~🖤

A Reminder

Characters: Námo/femMaia!reader Synopsis: Námo sees his favourite Maia spending a little too much time with a certain Noldo and decides to remind her that she belongs to him Featuring: Smut, BDSM, spanking, creampie Warnings: Explicit

"Come."

His command echoes within your mind, the force of his voice drowning out all others, and you find yourself losing focus on your current conversation.

"My lord-?"

"Now."

You tremble slightly, causing the elven fëa in front of you to draw closer, thoughts of concern on his mind. Perceptive as ever, Fëanor has already noticed your moment of distraction and immediately asks, "Is something the matter?"

You compose yourself as quickly as you can and reach out with your fëa to send a few calming thoughts, not wishing to worry him. Given how gloomy and quiet the Halls of Mandos could be, conversing with the rebellious Noldo has become one of the more delightful activities for you – and one your fellow Maiar gladly leave to you, finding themselves exasperated by his temperament.

"I am afraid I must cut our conversation short," you respond and bow your head respectfully. "Lord Námo summons me."

"A pity." Fëanor regards you with a certain warmth, an unusual sight. It hasn't escaped his notice either that not many of both your and his own kind are willing to be in his company, and though apprehensive at first, your feelings of appreciation seem to be reciprocated. The thought makes you smile.

"I will return in time," you promise, then hurry to appear before your lord. The sharpness in his tone earlier leads you to believe that he isn't in the mood to wait for you.

Námo is sitting on his throne with an air of otherworldly elegance, one elbow placed on the armrest as he appears to be pondering some kind of issue. His eyes meet yours as soon as he senses your presence, and you feel heat and cold alike course through you like electricity.

Something has displeased him.

"There you are, my little raven."

Námo's voice betrays nothing, yet he continues to regard you with thinly veiled discontent.

"My lord," you greet him and bow deeply. "How may I assist you?"

It feels strange to be so formal, you notice, after spending nights of passion in your lord's bed. Nevertheless, you know he prefers to court in private, and expects you to be on your best behaviour as a Maia of Mandos.

Námo seems like he hasn't paid attention to your question, but doesn't keep you waiting for too long. "I appreciate your hard work and dedication, yet I must admit that I find myself displeased when I see you spending so much time with a certain Noldo."

Your eyes widen. Until now, you weren't aware that he's been keeping an eye on you, let alone that he doesn't approve of your encounters with Fëanor.

"He seemed like he was in need of company," you attempt to defend yourself, but Námo raises his hand, signalling you to be silent.

"Your patience and kindness is commendable. My sister would certainly be proud," he says, yet in spite of praising you, his gaze betrays his displeasure. "And even so, you must remember that you belong to me first and foremost."

Your fána heats up as his eyes roam your form, desire causing them to darken, and your heart flutters in your chest. You want to tell him that you do belong to him and no one else, but something tells you that Námo won't be satisfied with mere words. Not when he looks at you like this, not when he speaks to you with such possessiveness in his voice. He will seek to claim you once again, and the realisation sparks desire within you as well.

You want to be his.

"Perhaps a reminder is in order," Námo suggests, though you both know his words are more akin to an order, and beckons you closer with a small wave of his hand.

You nod, flushing red under your hood and approach his throne with shaky steps. Will he take you right here, you wonder, to show everyone to whom you belong? It seems like it when he pulls you onto his lap and starts kissing you roughly, capturing your lips with his while his hands take hold of your smaller fána.

"P-please, my lord... not here–"

Námo lets out a quiet chuckle. "You don't want me to spread your lovely legs and take you in front of my court? I feel like you would enjoy it..."

His hand reaches underneath your hood to seize a fistful of your hair, tugging lightly to expose your neck for better access.

"But you have a point. The sight of your true beauty is mine alone to behold, and I don't want others desiring what belongs to me."

"Námo-!"

You barely manage to call out his name before the world around you suddenly shifts and blurs. He's bringing you somewhere else, but you don't know where until your back hits something soft and you look up at Námo looming over you with a stern expression. A quick glance around reveals that you're lying on his bed, his left hand resting on your chest to hold you in place in case you choose to defy his silent command. You let all tension leave your muscles as proof of your obedience and look up at him expectantly, waiting for him to decide what should be done to remind you of your place.

"Are you ready to be disciplined, little raven?" Námo asks. His voice is gentle and his mien relaxes as he utters those words, despite the lust and hunger shining in his eyes; even though he enjoys to be strict and dominant and his jealousy was very much genuine, he would never punish or claim you against your will. He knows he has acted on instinct and will not rob you of your chance to say no.

"I am ready, my lord," you whisper and bite your lip, shifting on the bed as heat begins to pool inside you. "I think I very much am in need of discipline."

Námo accepts your words with a pleased nod. "A confession is the first step, but I am afraid you will still have to submit to punishment so you will remember not to stray too far from my side again."

You lower your gaze in a display of penitence. "Of course, my lord."

Both of you are more than aware that neither of you regrets this, yet you love to commit to playing your roles accordingly. Námo doesn't take off your robes, letting his hand trail down your body instead. Slowly and methodically, he pulls up your skirt to expose your lower body and removes your panties. You squirm in anticipation and watch as his long fingers wrap around your ankles and lift your legs with just one hand, pushing them closer to your chest to expose your backside.

The first slap comes without warning, and you let out a soft gasp, realising that your lord intends to spank you.

"Whom do you serve?" Námo asks, accentuating his question with another well-aimed slap to your other thigh.

"Y-you, my lord–"

Slap.

"Articulate yourself properly."

"I-I serve you, my lord..."

A small smile, a curt nod. Nevertheless, he continues to spank you in-between questions.

"And to whom do you belong?"

"You – ah – I'm yours, my lord!"

"Indeed."

More slaps. Your ass and thighs start feeling warm.

"Do you think I like to share what is mine?"

"N-no, my lord..."

"Very good, little raven. So where should you be?"

"I should be... a-at your side... always–"

Námo rewards you with one final slap, then rubs your reddened skin soothingly. Despite the pain – or perhaps because of it – you feel yourself getting wet.

"Then you should know better than to spend all your time talking to rebellious fëar," he admonishes, "and if you keep disobeying me, I will have to use other means than just my hands next time."

The prospect is tempting. You wonder if you should disobey him on purpose, just to see what punishment he will devise for you, but your thoughts are interrupted when Námo releases your ankles to spread your legs. He pushes two fingers inside you, letting out a content hum as he feels your wetness dripping onto his hand all too eagerly.

"Good girl... so ready for me..."

You can't wait to have him inside you. Thankfully Námo doesn't keep you waiting - you hear the rustling of fabric as he parts his robes just enough to free his erection and feel him entering you without further delay. He pushes slowly but steadily, savouring the feeling of your tight walls parting for him, and you claw at the sheets underneath you.

"Ah– Námo-!"

"Do you like this?" he whispers, leaning in to brush his lips against yours while he speaks. "Do you enjoy being claimed, my lovely little raven?"

"Y-yes-!"

Námo allows you a few precious seconds of adjusting to his size before he starts moving. It's not gentle lovemaking this time, no – he fucks you with hard, almost frenzied thrusts, strict and merciless like when he passes judgement, making sure to penetrate you as deeply as he can. While your moans and cries of bliss fill the room, your lord is a silent lover, listening to the beautiful noises you make instead.

He seizes your legs once again and pushes them up to your chest to go deeper still, pleased as your smaller fána arches helplessly underneath him and the song of your pleasure increases in volume yet again.

"So good for me, such a good girl..." Námo groans, pupils dilating in pure lust and hunger until his eyes are dark like a starless night. "I will fill you with my essence so you won't forget to whom you belong... so they will all know you are mine..."

You can only nod in agreement, and he fulfils his promise shortly after, releasing deep inside you. It seems to you as if he couldn't wait to fill you up, couldn't wait to lay claim to you in the most intimate way possible, and you take all he gives you.

Námo stays inside you for a while, making sure not a single droplet of his essence is wasted, and starts humming a soothing tune. You know this is yet another way for him to mark you, leaving an echo of his song on your fëa like an invisible imprint, ensuring that neither Ainur nor the fëar of Mandos will dare to come too close to you; and this, too, you accept gladly.

"All mine," Námo whispers and kisses your lips.

"All yours," you mumble obediently, eyes falling close as a sensation of comfortable weariness slowly overcomes you.

If you enjoyed, please consider liking and reblogging!♡

taglist: @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @asianbutnotjapanese @bluezenzennie @edensrose @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @melkors-defense-attorney @singleteapot @wandererindreams

read more? main masterlist get tagged for my writing? tag list form

#namo #námo #mandos #namo x reader #x reader #reader insert #female reader #female maia reader #ainur #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion fanfiction #silmarillion #2nd person pov #oneshot #silm smut #smut #minors dni #cílil writes #my writing

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mushrubes · 2 years ago

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Star wars universe masterlist

home | prompts

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

↪ Din Djarin ↩

➵ imagines / series

ੈ♡˳ ’ You ’ | i, f| friends to lovers!au, mutual pinning | 0.9k

↬ “ What if I hadn’t gotten there in time? ”

ੈ♡˳ ’ Proud of you ’ | i, f| friends to lovers!au, mutual pinning | 0.9k

↬ “ Please don't cry. "

ੈ♡˳ ’ Keldabe Kiss ’ | i, f| friends to lovers!au, established | 2.1k

↬ “I haven’t stopped crying since Thursday. It’s pathetic.”

ੈ♡˳ ’Jedi ’ | i, f| friends to lovers!au, mutual pinning | 1.6k

↬ " A Mandalorian and a jedi? "

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

others i am open to write for ; luke, anakin, padme, ahsoka, leia, obi wan, han, padme, rey, kylo, fin

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decembermidnight · 10 months ago

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Bad Attitude

Summary: While on patrol duty, you chase a suspect starship but end up crashing on a freezing planet. Its pilot, a Mandalorian, rescues you, but he doesn't like your attitude towards him and makes sure you understand who is in charge.

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: smut, 18+ mdni, teasing, dom!din, brat!reader, brat tamer!din, Din is really an asshole here lol, improper use of the darksaber, lots of dirty talk, oral (m receiving), breath play, choking, fingering, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, degradation kink, praise kink, creampie

A/N: Loosely based on The Passenger episode and super canon divergent. I just had fun having nasty thoughts! Reblogs and comments are always welcome!! Hope you enjoy it!

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Masterlist - Read on Ao3

You… You really did have to follow that ship on this forsaken planet, didn't you?

You couldn't just listen to your partner Carson for once when he warned you to let it go.

Chasing that Razor Crest despite the bad weather on Maldo Kreis was not the smartest idea. Not smart at all, in fact.

You were only supposed to ask the pilot why his ship was in the proximity of that prison, Bothan-5, when that officer was killed, but he ran away as soon as he heard that name. You immediately started recklessly chasing that old piece of junk in the hostile atmosphere of this awful, unwelcoming planet, and next thing you know your Starfighter crashed, compromising the integrity of the hatch, you’re cut off from your partner and you’ll likely freeze to death before he can come rescue you. Could it get any worse?

It turns out it can.

Just when you switch the radio off, resigned to accept the unavoidable fate, your eyes seem to catch something dark in the snowstorm. At first you assume it’s just your mind playing tricks on you, but when you take a better look, you see it - there’s a dark figure approaching your ship. It must be him - the Razor Crest pilot. As he gets closer, you notice he’s wearing armour, a Mandalorian armour, and you’ve heard the stories about those deadly warriors. You probably made him angry with your insistent pursuit and now he might be killing you so as not to leave witnesses.

You are so fucked. This is the worst day of your life, and also the last.

He lifts the damaged hatch of your ship and looks at you, exposing you to the freezing air of the blizzard. You stare back at him - his broad figure completely towers over yours, but you try not to look intimidated by him.

"Razor Crest, is that you?" you say in a secure tone, wanting to appear tough.

"Yeah." the modulated voice answers as you feel his dark visor lingering on your figure.

"Came here to finish the job?" you try to sneakily grab your blaster in a desperate attempt to defend your life, determined not to die without fighting, or at least, not without trying.

"Not if you don't try anything stupid like that. Put it down." says in an authoritative tone, his right hand instinctively goes on the holster of his blaster. You quickly realise this is not the moment for heroism if you want to survive.

"Don't give me orders. I'm a New Republic officer." you reply firmly.

He scoffs and shakes his head in disdain.

"Dear officer, take a good look around. This frozen tomb doesn't look like New Republic territory to me." he goads you "Now quit it and let's go to my ship."

"Who says I want to come with you?"

"Come on, I’m freezing my ass off, for fuck’s sake." he loses no time in ripping your seatbelt and life support system off your body before grabbing you and carrying you over on his shoulder.

"Put me down! You're so rude!" you protest and try to kick him, but he blocks your legs in the tight grasp of his free arm, immobilising you.

"So far I've been more kind than you deserve. If you keep acting like that, I'll show you how rude I can be." his grip is firm and strong as he gives a warning squeeze to your thigh.

You do not want to admit it, but you feel a thrill of excitement at that - he doesn’t care about the fact that you're a law enforcer, he’s treating you like the scum he’s used to. He probably wants to trade your life for his freedom with Carson later - you’re his hostage now.

When you reach his ship, he finally puts you down. You take off your helmet and look at the Mandalorian that so unceremoniously saved you from certain death earlier.

You realise how much taller than you he is, his armour making him even broader than what he already is. Your eyes can't help lingering on his body in wonder at how strong he must be, how the shiny beskar perfectly completes his thick masculine figure, only adding to his already imposing stance, perfectly concealing his body, making him massive and statuesque. His suit is tight around the arms, you can see the outline of his thick, strong biceps. If only he wasn’t a criminal, if only you weren’t a New Republic officer, if only he wasn’t a complete cunt…

"You done?" a low, baritonal voice interrupts your dirty thoughts.

"Excuse me?" you raise a brow.

"I asked if you're done checking me out."

“What?! I wasn’t-” you lie and you both know it. You do not feel so cold anymore, your cheeks feel hot all of a sudden.

“Yeah. Sure.” the asshole teases as he rests against the wall of his ship, looking at you with crossed arms.

“You hurt?” he then asks.

“No, I’m fine.”

"Good. Let's go up to the cockpit, then. It's warmer up there."

He climbs up the ladder and when the door closes behind him, you take a deep breath, trying to collect yourself, and follow him.

When you get in the small room, you find him sitting in the pilot chair facing the windshield with crossed arms and legs spread wide. You settle on his side, standing with crossed arms and gaze fixed on his body. He’s as still and silent as a statue, unreadable under that helmet - is he really relaxed as he wants you to think, or is he carefully studying you?

"Don't look at me that way." says without moving a muscle.

"How?"

"Same way you've been looking at me since we got on the ship."

"What are you implying?"

"Don't act like you don't know." he turns towards you and stands up, making you imperceptibly startle. He looks imposing and menacing, his helmet slightly tilted observing you.

"You don't trust me one bit, do you?" he scoffs and shakes his head.

"You assaulted that prison and killed that poor man. He was a New Republic officer, just like me. Why should I trust you?”

“Because I didn’t do it.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“What will you do when you find out I was right all along?” the way he doesn’t lose his cool is fascinating, to a degree.

"You’re not. If you were innocent, you wouldn’t have run away and we wouldn't be here now."

He tilts his helmet to the side once again as he looks at you. His gaze and his confidence make you feel hot and uncomfortable at the same time - you wouldn’t want to give out the undeniable way his stoic charm is affecting you, but you hate the way he's been treating you.

"Yeah, we wouldn't be here." he lets out in an allusive tone as he walks one single step forward while you take one back, ending up against the wall. He's so damn tall and broad and… and you're getting so wet.

You look into his dark visor, feeling his gaze lingering on your body. You can feel the tension, the atmosphere in the cockpit becoming unbearable. It's getting hard to breathe, heat radiating from both of your bodies as you never stop looking at each other. While his sight is unreadable, yours is unmistakably libidinous, your heart pounding in your chest and your pussy throbbing with need, but you're both too proud to surrender first.

"I guess not. You coward." you let out in a far too flirtatious way as you look at him with shameless lust.

"What did you just call me?!" he rasps, sounding so provocative.

"Coward. That's what you are. Running away from me when I was chasing you and taking me hostage when I was so vulnerable.”

“Shut up.”

“So big and tough in your shiny armour, but you run away as soon as you see a New Republic patrol. I should have just shot you when I had the chance. At least I wouldn’t be sharing this ship with a coward.”

“I said shut up.”

“What now, Mandalorian? What do you plan to do now that you've kidnapped me? Are you gonna prove me wrong?" you’re wondering if you got too far when he gets dangerously close to you, his menacing figure towering over yours as he grips a handful of your hair, forcing your gaze into his dark visor.

"Do I have to stick my cock in your mouth to make you shut up?"

A flame of lust instantly traverses your body. You feel your blood boiling, making you feel hot and flustered, reason and common sense leaving you at the mercy of a primal, carnal instinct.

"I bet you don't have the balls to do it." you goad him with a smirk on your face.

Oh, you shouldn't have said that, yet you did, and what's worse is that you don't regret it.

You look at him with shameless desire clouding your eyes, internally cursing at the helmet that can't and won't let you see his reaction to your provocation, waiting for his next move.

You keep your lustful gaze locked on his visor as his hand swiftly unfastens his belt and the zip of his pants. His grip on your hair tightens even more as he pushes you on your knees, immediately sticking his hard, thick cock in your mouth and fuck, the sound he makes. It's worth crashing on a desolated planet and being scolded afterwards. It's guttural and desperate, astonished at how good your poisonous mouth feels when you take him in and your tongue gently swirls around his tip, instead of spitting mean words at him. You keep eye contact as you let the shaft slide in your mouth and coat it generously in your saliva, his head tilted back as he lets out breathy sighs of pleasure.

"You. You need to learn how to fucking behave. Shut up when I tell you to. You have to stop taunting me. Fuck. Is this what you wanted?"

He takes your head away from his cock to let you answer.

“You’re not as much of a coward as I thought you were.” you tease.

“You are still talking?!” exclaims as he pushes your head towards his cock once again, staying still as he uses your mouth for his pleasure, violently forcing all of his length down your throat. When he rips you away from it, you gasp for breath.

"You look so good like this. On your knees, choking on my cock, finally shutting the fuck up like a good girl." he growls, pleased.

Just as you want more of it, your mouth going towards it once again, his grip on your hair turns to steel and stops you there. You look up to him from your kneeled position and see him shaking his head.

“Why? Are you close already?” you taunt him as he tucks his cock back in his pants.

"Oh, it will take you way more than that to make me come, officer." says as he makes you stand up.

“Bet you want me to prove you wrong so badly. Bet you want to come in my m-” you stop mid sentence as he starts to unzip your flight suit while he pushes you towards the control panel of his ship, making you sit on it and trapping you there with his beskar body, your legs instinctively spread open for him to fit between them.

“Yeah? Go on. What were you saying?” he goads you as his hand slips inside of the thin pants you're wearing under the suit, teasing your clit from outside your underwear.

“I-I was s-saying that - that-” you gasp when his hand finds its way into your panties and reaches your slit.

"Ooh, what do we have here?" exclaims in taunting wonder. His beskar helmet is only a few centimetres distant from your face "Acting all cocky and arrogant before, but damn, feel how wet you are. Bet no one ever made you this wet, officer. Stars, you're dripping for me. All of this just from sucking my cock?" says in a husky voice as two of his thick, gloved fingers slide inside of you.

You grit your teeth in a desperate attempt to hide the way this is making you feel, not wanting to give him satisfaction, but your body is slowly surrendering to him and betraying you, your cunt involuntarily clamping around his fingers, revealing how his words are, in fact, effective on you.

"Oh, I bet you feel so good and you sound so sweet when you moan for me. Feel how hot and tight you are." he keeps teasing you.

Resisting him is getting near impossible. By now he knows how badly you want it.

"Listen to what we’re gonna do now. You're gonna come on my fingers like a good girl and then I'll fuck you until your partner comes to rescue you."

You can't help it anymore and let out a moan at how sensual his voice sounds as he says those things to you, at the thought of getting fucked by him, all while his fingers keep sliding inside and outside of you, making your cunt spasm around them.

"Oh, I knew it. Damn, such a sweet girl." he rasps as he takes his fingers out.

"What the fuck?!" you snap at him when he does, making him chuckle at your reaction.

"Hey, calm down officer." he teases your lips with his gloved fingers soaked in your arousal.

You instinctively suck the leather and taste yourself on his fingers, licking them sensually as you look at him in the visor. He hums in pleasure seeing that and goes on playing with your mouth, entranced by the way your tongue swirls around them, until he takes them out and presses his middle finger on your bottom lip.

"Bite." he simply orders and you obey, taking the hem of his glove between your teeth to let his hand slip out of the glove. It's huge compared to yours, callous and veiny and masculine. You hum as it starts trailing down your body and feel the warm trail it leaves on the delicate skin of your neck as he caresses it, your own hands holding tight to the commands of the ship, propping you up to offer yourself to his touch. You can feel his eyes looking at your body from behind the dark visor as his hand slips in your flight suit once again, groping your breast from outside your shirt, his thumb playing with one of your hardened nipples, your back arched and chest puffed out to make it look fuller. You moan loudly when he slides his fingers in your panties and back inside of you.

"Stars - so fucking wet. I bet your cunt is so beautiful. Spread your legs for me. You're making me so fucking hard." he keeps up the pace and also starts to rub your clit with his thumb, making the pleasure you’re feeling unable to hide and you surrender to him, panting heavily as your eyes cross and roll in delight.

"Really? Eyes rolling, officer?" he taunts you.

"F-fuck y-you-" you rasp with half closed eyes, your sentence gets interrupted as he hooks his fingers, touching something devastating inside of you, making him scoff when he sees the way you squeeze your eyes shut and arch your back, your mouth wide open to let out obscene moans.

"What? Do you want me to stop?" he provokes you.

"Don't you fucking dare." you manage to let out in a barely audible sigh.

He immediately grabs your neck, not liking the way you undermine his authority.

"Careful now, officer." he growls.

You moan back in response at how much you like this - being put back into place, the Mandlaorian reminding you who is in control. You hold tight to his sides, digging your nails in his flight suit as he just pushes you further against the control panel with his body.

You’re a panting mess and you feel so close, so damn close to your orgasm. You beg he won’t stop as you wrap your legs around him. He feels by the irregular, ragged way you're breathing and the way your muscles go rigid around him that you're close.

"What? Coming already?” he chuckles “I will let you just because I want to fuck you so badly. Now come, my dear officer. Come for me."

You pant straight into his helmet when you hear him calling you like that, fogging it where his mouth would be. His hand pushes you over the edge and you moan loudly as he makes you come around his fingers, your hands holding tight to his neck, bringing him down towards you. Your back arches, chest rubbing against his armour and you roll your head back until it hits the transparisteel of the windshield behind you. Your nails scratch him hard and your legs’ grip becomes even tighter, his upper body now trapped in your grasp.

He grabs your chin with his other hand and forces you to look at him in the visor.

"Yes - yes, yes. Like this. Good girl." he growls between his teeth, looking at you as you struggle to keep your gaze on him, your eyes wanting to roll up in pleasure.

He lets you ride your high, never stopping those astounding moves of his hand, making you feel so satisfied, but so guilty and humiliated at the same time.

As the orgasm gradually fades out, your grip on his body loosens.

He takes out his hand right in front of your eyes and, Maker, it's soaking wet, glistening in your arousal. You’re both embarrassed and aroused when you see how wet and yielding you got for him as soon as he started touching you.

"Damn, officer. How am I going to-"

You don't even let him finish, you've taken his hand in yours and start sucking his fingers. He lets out a satisfied hum when you do that. You clean them thoroughly, sensually massaging his digits with your tongue, humming as you hear him cursing between his teeth in a foreign language.

Once he’s satisfied, he takes them out of your avid mouth.

"Now strip for me, officer. I bet you look so hot under that uniform."

"Forget it." you tease him.

"Too bad you didn't obey me when I asked so nicely."

In an instant his hands start ripping the flight suit off your body as you're kicking out of your boots at the same time. It's rushed, brutal and wild, the both of you completely taken over by lust. His hands linger on your sides, giving you goosebumps and making you sigh when he lifts the thermal shirt off your body and you hold on tight to the panel when he hooks his fingers in the hem of your pants and pulls everything down and away from your body, leaving you completely naked in front of him.

“You look… Good without your uniform on, officer.” he is pleased looking at your naked body. “Wonder if I could say the same about you, Mandalorian.” “You’ll have to use your imagination."

“Are you even a real Mandalorian? Maybe you stole this armour, or maybe you bought it off some Jawas.” you mock him.

"Come here and I’ll show you." he simply says as he sits back on his chair, legs spread wide and a visible bulge in his pants.

Just as you get close to him, he takes out one of his weapons, a strange sword without a blade, and begins to trace your nipple with the hilt. You start to breathe heavily and you can feel your nipple getting harder by the second, your eyes carefully following his movements as he descends ever so slowly, teasing you, trailing your stomach and then your lower belly, stopping right in front of your cunt, driving you crazy, your legs spreading for him, begging for some friction. He softly brushes your lips, carefully avoiding your clit to tease you further, until he finally touches it. The sudden contact of the hilt with your sensitive clit makes you shudder and let out a whimper.

"Don't. Move." he orders as he continues to touch you with that weapon, rubbing it against your clit, producing obscene, wet sounds at the contact. You try to stay as still as you can as he plays with that dangerous weapon so close to your most delicate spot. You beg he'd go faster, you wish you could ride it and come all over it, as pathetic as it sounds, but no, he doesn't want that. He wants to take his time to tease you, getting you nice and wet as he plays with you like you're his toy.

He stands up, towering over you.

"Stick your tongue out."

You immediately do and he starts to trace your mouth with the hilt.

"This is the Darksaber. Whoever wields it can rule all of Mandalore, and you're licking it after I've used it to give you pleasure. Feel how wet you’ve made it. How does that make you feel?"

“Like you should sit down on that chair and take out that cock. Touch yourself while I lick your Darksaber clean, Mandalorian.”

He grunts as you push him back on his chair. He immediately unzips his pants to take his throbbing cock out as you keep licking his weapon clean, pleased at the sight of his erection in his hand.

"Touch yourself for me, Mando" you order him as you trace your tongue on the hilt.

"Enough of that." he grabs you by the hair and pushes you on your knees, forcing you to suck his cock. In a swift movement he grabs the Darksaber with his two hands, using it as leverage to keep your head down, forcing his entire cock into your throat, making you startle at the sudden lack of air.

"You don't get to give me orders." he growls before freeing you from his grasp to let you breathe. You gasp for air and look at him, panting.

Maker, he's so dangerous. He could kill you in one second if he wanted to, and you've never, never been wetter than this, playing this dangerous, twisted game with a deadly warrior.

He gives you a few seconds to breathe and then he's back at it, using his weapon to make you choke on his cock.

"Do you understand? I can do whatever I want to you." he releases you once again. There are tears in the corner of your eyes but that doesn't stop him from doing that one more time.

"You're so fucking pretty, but you also need someone to tame you. You've found the right man. Is that what you were looking for, officer? Someone to tame that bad temper?" he says and releases you one more time. You gasp for air as one tear sheds down your cheek.

"Come here. I'll fuck that bad attitude out of you." he orders as he puts the Darksaber away.

This. This is what you've always been craving, what you always wanted.

You slowly rise from the cold floor, your hands on his thighs as you can't stop looking at each other with longing desire. You straddle him, shaking in anticipation as you sink on his body guided by his hands on your hips, letting his cock slowly slide inside of you. The both of you moan as his cock splits you open for him, making him feel how hot and welcoming you are. You both let out a long, satisfied sigh, his voice is dark and sensual and you spasm around his throbbing cock, heavily aroused to finally have him inside of you.

“Mando, let me see if you're only good with words now."

“Din. I want to hear you screaming my name when I’ll make you come on my cock, officer.”

“You’re pretty confident in your abilities, Mandalorian.”

“Your mouth might say otherwise, but your body agrees with me.” he's so arrogant and full of himself, his confidence is making you wet.

“It does” you concede “you feel good, Din.” you purr in his neck, and he grunts when he hears how sweet your voice can be as you whisper his name while you have his cock buried inside of you. You start riding him slowly, looking at him in the visor as you feel every ridge and vein of his cock, enjoying every single moment of it, letting him almost slip out, only to let him back inside of you. He lets out sighs of satisfaction that drive you insane and only want to make you increase your rhythm but no, not yet, you want to make him pay for the way he's been treating you.

“If I had known my cock would have been enough to tame your bad temper, I’d have fucked you earlier.”

“What about yours, Din? What should I do about you being an asshole to me?” you say as you pull him out of you, making him grunt.

“Fuck. Put it back in.”

“Not so fast. I want you to behave. Beg for it.”

“You know I could just take you anytime I want, right?” “I do. But where would the fun be?”

He hums in pleasure as you take his drenched cock in your hand and start to slowly stroke it right in front of your cunt, moaning in his neck just to get him even more aroused.

“Fuck. You’re good at this.” he whimpers.

You start to slide it between your folds, the both of you moaning in arousal.

“Dank Farrik, d-do you want me to die?” he growls, subjugated by your teasing. “I want you to behave.” you whisper in a heady groan as you keep rolling your hips and rubbing your pussy on his cock. “F-fuck. I want to be inside of you so badly.”

“Say it.”

He sighs and pauses, taking a good look at the tip of his cock teasing your entrance.

“Please.”

“Please what?” you ask, biting your lip in pleasure.

“Please put my cock back inside of you, officer.” there's a hint of annoyance in his voice when he surrenders and sees your satisfied smirk.

“Good.” you whisper gasping against his helmet as you slowly slide his cock deep back inside of you.

That’s the moment when he digs his fingers in your hips and starts jackhammering you, making you scream as he said he would, your hands clawing on his shoulders.

“Who do you think you are? Do you think you can taunt me? I’m a Mandalorian. A bounty hunter. Bet you’ve never been fucked so good, officer. I’m gonna give you this cock so hard, you’ll never forget about me. You’ll be touching yourself thinking about me for the rest of your life. Thinking about the Mandalorian Din Djarin who fucked your brains out on Maldo Kreis.”

The way he's fucking hard and rough into you as he says those things in an angry, husky voice is pleasurably devastating and addicting, having you moan frantically as your body is held still by his strong hands.

"Oh, fuck, Din, don't stop. Don't stop!" you let out in a desperate cry.

"Do you want to come on my cock, officer? Let me hear it. I want to hear you beg for it."

"Please, please Din, make me come on your cock." you drawl, subjugated by lust.

"Mmm - you sound so hot when you beg for me. Keep going and I won't stop."

"Please! I've never been fucked like this, Din." your heart is racing, your breathing is getting laboured and feel the orgasm approaching “I'm so close, Din, so fucking close. Please, don’t stop."

"Come, officer. Keep riding my cock and come on it. I want to hear you scream my name."

"Oh, Din!" you scream his name as the overwhelming force of the orgasm washes over you, a white blaze of bliss making you lose control, uncontrollably spasming and sensually moaning as he doesn't stop giving it to you, groaning in pleasure when he feels how tight and wet you get around him when you come on his dick.

"That's it. That's my good girl." he grunts as he lets you ride your orgasm.

His rhythm slows down as you come back from your high, his hands still firmly on your hips, guiding you, making you slowly grind your pussy against his cock, the cockpit full of your pants.

"Ready for round two, officer?"

He doesn’t even wait for your response, your mind still fogged by the astonishing orgasm he just gave you.

He gets up from the chair and in a second he turns you around, your body slammed against the control panel and the windshield, your wrists held up high by his hand. Your legs are shaking and you can't really seem to stand on your feet properly.

You couldn't possibly be ready for him slamming his dick inside of you all at once, so hard that air leaves your lungs in an exhale. You'd curse at him, but you can't articulate words as he is fucking you so violently, his strong hand on your hip keeping you still. If you thought he was fucking you hard earlier, it's nothing compared to now - feeling all the power of his body giving it to you wild and raw is pleasurably devastating. You couldn't possibly have imagined that what he gave you earlier was merely foreplay for him, just a little tease before making sure you knew who is really in charge and how hard he can fuck you. He was just letting you have a small taste of what would happen after, wanting you to get ready for him, nice and wet and stretched open for his thick cock to split you in half. He grabs a fistful of your hair and you feel his helmet close to your ear.

"What? You're out of breath already? I'm just getting started, officer." he slides it out almost completely and slams it back in so hard you roll your eyes in pleasure.

"Look at you. Loving this dick so much you're rolling your eyes. Gonna fuck you so hard, you'll learn how to fucking behave."

You can't do anything besides taking his cock and letting out choked moans.

"Still regret being stuck here with me? Tell me. Do you still think I'm a coward?" he growls in between thrusts.

You can barely drawl a moan in response and he chuckles.

"Yeah, I don't think so. You can't even speak." he mocks you as he pounds into you harder and harder, devastating you, reducing you to a pathetic, moaning mess.

"Who knows if the snow storm has stopped and your partner is looking for you. What if he sees you getting fucked like this?"

You know it's wrong, but the thought turns you on so much that you clench around him, and he feels it.

"Oh, you'd like it? Officer, what do we have here? A little whore?" you hear his dark chuckle as he grips your throat with his hand, bringing you closer to him - the hot, naked skin of your back against his cold beskar armour as he never stops railing you.

Getting called like that in other circumstances, by any other person in the galaxy, would have caused you to shoot them immediately, but now, oh, did that turn you on.

"You like being called that way, don't you? Whore." he whispers softly in your ear, and it drives you insane despite how much you're trying to hide it. He feels your body getting rigid, the vibrations of your throat choking a moan, the way you bite your lip trying not to let one sound out, and you can bet he's loving every second of it.

His other hand starts to rub your clit and that's when you fucking lose it - your mouth opens wide and lets out a loud groan of pleasure.

"Tell me you're my whore and I'll give you the best orgasm of your life."

You hesitate - his request is so degrading, but you want it at the same time. He can sense your indecisiveness and stops drawing circles on your clit and starts going around it, carefully avoiding it.

"N-no. Don't stop. It's unfair!" you whimper.

"Say it."

You try to relieve the ache between your legs by bringing a hand there, but he is quick to stop you and block your wrist behind your back, immobilising you as if you were one of his bounties, getting you even more aroused, so much, in fact, that you let out another groan.

"Don't make me handcuff you." he growls sensually and you immediately picture him fighting criminals every day, used to manhandling thugs and being a badass and you get even more aroused at the thought, and decide to give him whatever he wants.

You mumble those words, barely audible, ashamed but at the same time yielding, desperately and pathetically wanting him to give you what you so achingly crave, in a way that only he can provide. A need that you never even realised existed before he brought you into the highest dimension of pleasure.

"What? I didn't hear you."

"I am your whore." you whisper, annihilated.

"Good girl. Say it again. Louder this time."

"I am your whore, Din! Please, please make me come like this!" you surrender to him completely, defeated by your very body refusing to let this slip away.

"That's my girl. You asked so nicely, I'm gonna give it to you." you hear the satisfaction in his voice as he immediately starts to rub your clit again, driving you close to the edge in no time, your cunt getting tighter in anticipation.

“Shit, I want to come inside of you. I'm so fucking close, officer. You’re gonna patrol the outer rim, flying your Starfighter while my cum drips down your beautiful cunt. You’re gonna feel that and you will think of me the entire time.” he rasps in your ear as you feel his body pushing you further into the transparisteel and then over the edge, making you come screaming his name once again rolling your eyes over your lids, desperately begging him to come inside of you.

His groans get louder and louder as he comes. You feel his is cock pulsing and twitching, thrusting into you, wanting to go as deep as it can go, filling you with his hot release as you clamp erratically around him.

Both of your bodies are spent as you come back from your high, the sound of your laboured breathing fills the cockpit.

"Hey" he pants "keep it inside now. I don't want to see a single drop going to waste. Are we clear?"

You nod and he slips out of you slowly as you obey his order, keeping his release inside of you as you get dressed, feeling it drip between your legs as he walks you back to your ship.

Carson is already there - he has fixed the minor damages your X-wing had sustained when you crashed in the snow, confident in the fact that you found shelter somewhere and that you’re safe and will be back soon.

What he did not expect is for you to show up with the Mandalorian by your side, though.

"Can I have a few words with you?" he asks with a raised brow.

You nod and walk a few steps away from Din, going behind your ship to have some privacy.

"He saved my life." you regretfully admit before he even has a chance to speak, expecting a scolding.

"Listen. I run the tabs on the Razor Crest. It seems like your new friend has an arrest warrant on him for the abduction of a prisoner." he pauses briefly and lets out a sigh "But he has also captured three wanted culprits and tried to save the Lieutenant's life."

"I'd say we let him go this time. I really don't want to file a report about what happened. I hate doing that."

"Is that so?" he asks sarcastically.

"These are trying times, come on."

Carson raises his brow once again, looking at you and then at the armoured menace standing a few steps away from him.

“Fine.” he shrugs, not wanting to dig deeper with regards to your change of mind towards the Mandalorian, then gets back to his ship.

You jump in your X-wing, but before closing the hatch and taking off, you address Din one more time.

"We're even now, Din Djarin. See you next time, and don't get caught."

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