#Mando x teenager reader

[moonlight-prose]

If you’re taking those as prompts, ❛ don’t you know what you’re doing to me? ❜ with Din perhaps?

LOVE IS A FIRE THAT BURNS UNSEEN

a/n: so i took forever on this, because i kind of fell out of writing for din for...well....awhile. i can tell you this sat in my wips folder half finished for months. honestly i was wondering if it would even get finished. but i was re-watching mando last night and decided why the fuck not. i can't remember which prompt list this was from because it's been so long, but that's okay. this is not beta read or edited, but we live and die by the pen.

summary: on your list of things that could possibly happen while bounty hunting with din, dying from hypothermia wasn't included. nor was finally admitting the truth to yourself about your feelings.

word count: 3.1k+

pairing: din djarin x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, near death experience, angst, feelings being admitted sort of, p in v sex, a hint of choking, they're so in love it's sickening.

It’s fucking cold in the Razor Crest as you sit in the cockpit waiting for his return. You’re bundled in a jacket that has seen better days, but even with the extra layers you swear you’ll freeze to death before he comes back. Tempted to turn the ship back on in order to get some heat—you do the most to distract yourself from the frost currently eating away at the skin of your face. Din’s instructions were clear. Keep the ship hidden until he comes back with the bounty, which would be simple enough.

That is if the bounty he was currently hunting resided on a planet with a temperature that wouldn’t kill you from exposure. Everything had been fine two hours ago. You were working on repairing an old comlink as he tracked the bounty through space, having caught their signal on the outer edges of the galaxy. Except then…they were attacked. Neither of you could see who caused it or even why, but suddenly a lone ship was heading into the atmosphere on the one planet you always said you’d rather die than visit.

Hoth—a frozen pit that once housed the Rebellion of all places.

So, there you were. Shivering to gain some warmth as you scanned the area for Din’s signal. If the ship was right, he still remained alive. You only wished you could say the same for yourself by the time he came back.

The cold had begun to seep into your layers, hitting your chest directly and causing you to cough harshly. If he didn’t return within the hour he would find you dead due to hypothermia. Except that’s not what scared you. It was the fact that he would be the one to find you—a man who showed absolutely no interest in you whatsoever.

You weren’t sure when the crush started or even why, but you do know the realization hit you harder than a speeder-bike going at full speed one day while you were sitting beside him in the cockpit. He laughed at something you said, the chuckle low and slightly clipped due to his modulator and that’s what did it. What had you sitting there in shock—eyes wide—as it suddenly dawned on you that…you liked him. A lot more than you would have ever thought before.

“Maker fucking above,” you muttered, your teeth chattering with the words. “Hurry up, bucket head.”

Vaguely you recalled some survival tips from your time as a teenager on Bracca working as a scrapper. Never touch live wires, always look out for yourself, and when stuck in freezing temperatures—layers become your best friend. So, you stumbled out of the cockpit chair and towards the ladder that would lead you to the rest of his ship. Slow small steps were all you could manage as your body went into overdrive to try and keep you warm. Except the ship acted as an icebox rather than a heater.

You could lock yourself in his small cot, burrowing under the blankets he’d bought because of you complaining there wasn’t enough on the ship. But you’d first have to get there. It was a struggle to even climb down the ladder—your breath coming in gasps as your lungs fought against the freezing air. How long had you been sitting up there? You held no answer to the question, because the results were clear to you now; you were up there long enough to lead you right to death’s doorstep.

Dragging yourself along the side of the ship wall, you flinched as the cold metal touched your cheek. You should have gone against his orders and simply turned the ship back on. It would keep you from this—currently fighting against hypothermia as Din took his sweet time coming back.

The sound of the airlock on the door releasing when it opened brought a small flicker of hope to life, burning bright in your chest. But it faded just as quickly as it came. You caught sight of him dragging a half dead bounty up the ramp—his helmet turned towards you—before you collapsed to the ground. Your body shivering in a final attempt to generate enough body heat in order to keep you alive.

His voice calling your name echoed in the back of your mind as you drifted off—the concept of sleep far more enticing than it should be.

Steady breaths against your bare back was what you woke up—your mind drifting slowly back to reality. Or at least what you thought to be reality. The last thing you could recall was seeing Din’s helmet as your body did what it could to survive. How you ended up in the darkness of his cot, pressed against someone you assumed to be him…naked, was a mystery to you. Perhaps you were still dreaming. This must be how your mind envisioned some form of peace to ease your soul into an afterlife.

“You’re awake.” His voice caught you off guard—the breath in your throat catching.

“How…”

The shift of his body created a low burn of heat to appear at the bottom of your stomach as his arm tightened around your waist—drawing you closer. “You almost stopped breathing when I got back. Your body went into shock from the cold.”

“I was dying,” you said softly, the realization far less jarring than waking beside him in the nude.

He hummed, the low pitch a vibration you felt along your back. “I had to get you warm.”

“So you took off my clothes?” you asked, the smile prominent in your tone.

“Generating enough body heat only works when—”

“Both of us are naked.”

His fingers gripped onto the soft skin of your belly. “Yes,” he replied—voice slightly strained.

Somehow it never registered that he was actually sans armor and clothing until you felt his hand glide further up. The soft skin of his palm turned the spark into a fully formed flame that traveled its way through your body. He was laying beside you…naked. If you concentrated hard enough, you could feel the rise and fall of his stomach against your lower back—his skin soft there too.

Any other time your brain would have short circuited, but the sluggishness from sleep had yet to wear off. It made you rather docile—something you felt oddly grateful for. You were entirely aware, fully conscious of your words and decisions, but the tranquility in your body seemingly spurred you forward. No other time would you be this centered—this sure of yourself—and maybe that’s where you made the mistake, because this was dangerous. Revealing the feelings you’d harbored for months was like poison to your heart…positively lethal.

“Din,” you murmured, the soft heat coming from his body now spreading into yours.

If you knew you’d end up like this after one visit to Hoth, you would have come here a lot sooner.

“Yes?” Even his breath was warm as it brushed across the bare skin of your shoulder. Maker you were close in his bed that was barely big enough for him, let alone you beside him.

“I—” The words caught in the base of your throat, lodging themselves there like a stone you couldn’t swallow. You wanted to say it. Get everything out into the open and be done with it, but your mind seemed to be slowly coming to its senses.

“What is it?”

Closing your eyes, you let out a shuddered breath in the hopes that it would push down the erratic nerves which jumped under your skin. If you chickened out now, you’d never say the words. They’d be your secret—forever trapped in the cage of your heart until it was far too late to confess them. What’s funny is that they seemed like such easy things to say. How hard was it really to say I love you? How much effort did it take? Only you now realized it took a lot more than you expected.

It was far easier to die than to admit your feelings.

“I have to tell you something and I just—” Inhaling, you curled your hand around the blanket beneath you. “I don’t want you to look at me differently if things don’t turn out the way I hope.”

His thumb rubbed a soothing circle against your hip. “I won’t.”

You scoffed. “You probably will.”

The subtle shift of his body against yours caused flutters to go through your heart—rendering you speechless for a moment. He was so close it was maddening. If you had the courage you’d turn around, press yourself to him, and whisper the words against his lips. But you were practically stone, unable to even turn your head slightly to feel the press of his lips against your neck.

“For a while now I’ve felt…well…my feelings towards you have changed.” You blurted them out, hoping it was like ripping off a bandaid. Except the silence of his response hurt more than you expected.

Until—

“I know,” he said, his hand pressing a bit harder on your hip.

Nothing could have prepared you for the shockwave that went through your body. “You know?” you exclaimed.

“I’ve known since our trip to Coruscant.”

You paused, trying to form something to say, but all you could come up with was: “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Why had he let you think he held no feelings towards you? That you were alone in this. You felt him stiffen behind you, his hand pulling away slightly and your heart sank in your chest. Perhaps you had asked the wrong question. Or even touched on a part of this he didn’t want you to see. But you had to know the truth. You knew why you waited—why you couldn’t get the words out for the life of you—but why had he?

That is until he wrapped his arm around your waist tightly, jolting you back towards his body. A soft yelp left you as you tried to refocus yourself in the pitch black space. Except then you felt it. Pressing hard and insistent against your lower back—a part of Din you had only ever imagined, but never seen.

He grunted, his hand splaying across your stomach as you shifted against him. “Don’t you know what you’re doing to me?”

You gasped. “Din—”

“What you’ve been doing?

His hips canted downwards, grinding against you and sending heat sparking up your spine. Enough to combat the cold that still remained in you, but you wanted more. You craved it. Moaning softly, you pushed back against him, pressing your thighs together to hopefully appease the growing ache that formed. Except he was one step ahead of you. Shoving his bare thigh between your legs, he pressed it upwards, grinning at the way your head fell back against his chest—a guttural moan leaving your lips.

“Every day is fucking torture,” he rasped, his hand sliding even lower until his fingers were hovering right above where you needed him most. “Because I can’t touch you.” His lips pressed against the curve of your jaw. “Because I can’t kiss you…”

“Maker,” you gasped, reaching down to wrap your hand around his wrist. “I-I want you to touch me. Want you to kiss me.”

His fingers dipped down even lower, finally parting your folds. A ragged groan was pressed to your jaw, his teeth scraping down against the skin when he found you wet and dripping for him. You could feel his heartbeat against your back. How it was erratic and almost as quick as yours. He was just as nervous as you were—if not more so, because of his creed.

He wanted you to be his, to love him as he was with his creed, but he was scared that this wasn’t permanent. You wanted to show him the inner workings of your mind, the makeup of your heart—how he was seared into it. He was ingrained so deep into your soul that you couldn’t even fathom the thought of being parted from him.

“Are you always this wet for me?” he asked, disbelief clear in his tone.

Nodding, you felt another moan begin to form, only for it to die as he pulled his fingers away. “No—”

“Shh,” he breathed, cupping your jaw as he moved even closer. “I’ll take care of you.”

Heat flooded your stomach, a whine forming in your throat as he pulled you back, the head of his cock now nudging against your entrance. You dug your nails into his forearm, your lips parting to form around his name. A ragged moan echoing in his small quarters, and he began to push forward. Sliding into you slowly as you fought to keep yourself quiet.

“So fucking tight,” he hissed, wrapping his arm around your torso and thrusting into you completely, his hips pressing against your ass. “Won’t last—”

You keened when his hand fell to your clit, circling it with enough pressure to send jolts up your spine. For a moment he simply held himself there. Encompassed in your heat as he worked you over, building your release steadily until you were pressing into him. Your hips rolling against his fingers—fucking yourself on his cock. Soft moans were pressed to your skin, the stubble on his jaw scratching along your shoulder, and that only heightened everything.

For the first time…he was entirely yours. Bare and open as he indulged in something both of you had held back from doing for so long.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you turned your head and caught the corner of his lips in a kiss. Something so tender yet so powerful. It nearly sent you over the edge and you felt Din’s surprise at the action. How his body jolted, his hips nudging forward and fingers stuttering in their motions. Even though he had proudly claimed he wanted to kiss you, to finally feel your lips against his. He had never expected it to come true.

“Cyar'ika,” he breathed.

“I want…” You gasped, hips rolling against his fingers in quick movements as that blinding feeling continued to overtake you. “Kiss me Din. Please, please—”

His mouth found yours in the darkness of his cabin, and you felt your heart scream out. Felt your entire body give into him, his name, his signet forever carved into your heart. He was your future and he knew it. Which is why he kissed you with a fervor that you believed only existed in your dreams—a passion that you felt right down to your toes. His tongue slid along yours, tasting the shitty caf you had earlier—the desperation on your tastebuds.

“Ah…” You tried to form the words on your tongue. The feelings that were trapped in your heart, but they refused to be let loose.

“I know you want to cum,” he breathed, fingers speeding up as your walls began to flutter around his cock. His other hand shifted, wrapping gently around your throat to keep your face close to his. Pressing down lightly as you gasped. “Let me feel it.”

A keening broken moan of his name ripped from you, hands scrabbling to grasp for something, settling for his arm that kept you pressed against him. White flashed behind your closed eyes, his lips swallowing every sound you made as you writhed against him. Gushing around his cock.

You didn’t hear the hoarse shout that he pressed into your mouth, his hips thrusting into you quickly as he followed you off the edge. Filling you with a warmth that you swore you felt  in your chest. Biting down on his bottom lip you sucked into your mouth, moaning when he canted his hips forward, prolonging the sparks that ran up your spine. He was a panting mess and you tried to picture what he looked like.

Was his hair a mess? Were his cheeks stained red? Were his lips swollen?

The urge to simply open your eyes nearly overtook you, but you understood what came with that action. What would have to happen afterwards. Din had explained enough for you to grasp the basic details of what being a Mandalorian meant. So you kept them closed and opted to simply feel. You memorized how his lips against yours felt, what being full of him felt like.

You kept what you could nestled against your heart, remaining here for as long as possible. Din’s cock softened in you, twitching every now and then when your walls fluttered. But you solely had him to blame. Because he was running his hand along your body, grazing your nipples lightly before pulling away—the familiar feelings in your stomach stirring once more. If he wasn’t careful neither of you would be leaving this bed for quite some time.

Which didn’t bode well for you seeing as how you hated the planet you currently resided on.

“Din,” you breathed, pulling away to catch your breath before he dived down again—ready for round two of the hottest makeout session you’d partaken in.

“You want to leave,” he panted. There was something scary about how he could see your thoughts so clearly. You’d have to ask him about it later.

“No…” Your head fell back against his shoulder. “I want to stay here, but Hoth.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “We can stay here for as long as you want.”

Half expecting him to pull out and place his helmet back in its rightful place, you were a bit surprised when he remained put. Curling himself around you closer until his body perfectly molded yours. The cold still remained in the ship—the heaters unable to counteract the snowy planet—yet you found that you were perfectly content to remain right where you were. Wrapped in his arms—the certainty of your future now nestled in his heart. Mimicking yours in every way.

“Din,” you breathed in the darkness, feeling him trace something along your waist.

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to say…” You took in a breath, trying to calm the racing of your heart. “I feel like you should hear me say it.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, his fingers pressing down. “I know cyar'ika. I feel the same way.”

“You do?” you asked softly.

“I do.”

You settled into the bed, allowing your muscles to relax and your body to once more give into the temptation of sleep. With Din right there, you felt as if you were able to finally relax. To give in and allow yourself to float.

“You know…” You yawned, feeling his chin settle against your shoulder. “Maybe Hoth isn’t so bad.”

He smiled, his lips brushing along your skin as you drifted off, mind succumbing to the sweet snare of unconsciousness. “No,” he breathed, continuing to trace the shape of his signet on your skin, because whether you wore it or not…you were a part of his clan. His life. “It’s not.”

[psychosith]

Talk to Me

Din Djarin x Jedi!Reader

summary: You, Din, and Bo have been asked to “take care” of the malfunctioning droids on Plazir-15, and the Mandalorians don’t know much about the Jedi’s involvement in the Clone Wars.

warnings: mentions of trauma/ptsd, panic attacks, child endangerment(?), mentions of war, mild injuries/blood, i can’t think of anything else but lmk if i missed something

a/n: this is based on a request from @otter-nonsense620! it’s been a hot minute since i’ve watched the Mando so this might not be totally accurate but… wtv. when i was writing this i was imagining the characters had feelings for each other but hadn’t confessed yet, but you can read this as platonic or romantic. Anyways, enjoy!

“Our constables are unequipped to confront battle droids,” the duchess said.

“Ah- former battle droids,” the duke corrected, looking pleased with himself. “They’ve been rehabilitated.”

You glanced nervously between Bo and Din. You wanted to be helpful to them and their cause, but hearing the words battle droid again for the first time since the war caused an unexpected spike of panic in you. The rest of the conversation with the duchess was muted in your ears, your mind running a mile a minute. Din’s husky voice in your ear brought you back to the present, “We’re leaving.”

You figured that Bo and Din had accepted the duke’s deal and your anxiety could only grow as you speak to the security officer and then the Ugnaughts. In the hyper loop on the way to the loading docks, you’re bouncing your knee and worrying the inside of your cheek when Bo takes notice.

“Hey,” she says, resting a hand on your knee, “what’s up, y/n?”

You look up from the ground to meet her eyes and find genuine worry, but dismiss her concerns nonetheless. “I’m fine, Bo. Don’t worry about me.”

She pulls her hand back and nods her head, yet you can still see a hint of concern as she resumes conversation with Din, who has paid no mind to your conversation.

You try to control your breathing as you walk through the loading docks, recalling your time in the Order. Battle droids of all kind are working various jobs on the docks, and you can recognize almost every model, having taken many down in the war. You’re following a line of centurion droids when you come to an access point headed by a B-1 model. It’s almost identical to the models that fought in the war, and you find yourself spiraling into a memory from years ago…

You knew a war was coming, but you didn’t know this was how. You, your master, and many of the other members of the Order had gone to Geonosis to rescue Obi-Wan Kenobi from Count Dooku. You remember being excited, as you were barely a teenager and this was your first official “battle”. The arena was packed, and you knew Jedi were scattered secretly throughout the stands.

When you finally ended up on the field, surrounded by droids, you began to grasp what was going on. This was war. You stood frozen as your friends and colleagues dropped dead in the sand. Dust was filling your lungs and blood covered every surface in sight.

A hand grasped at the bottom of your robes, and you looked down at the body. It was your master, collapsed at your feet with a nasty blaster wound in her side. You dropped to your knees and tried to stop the blood flowing from her wounds, the substance thick and warm on your shaky hands. A sharp ringing in your ears blocked out your master’s final words before her eyes glazed over. A large shadow loomed over you and you followed it to where a B-2 unit stood with a blaster aimed at your head. A scream was caught in your throat, unable to escape from the pure shock coursing through your veins. A green saber slashed through the droid just in time, and the jedi wielding it offered a hand to help you up. Your master’s blood coating your hands and robes, you ignited your lightsaber and moved to a proper fighting stance.

You were ripped from your memory when Din was thrown across the docks, likely by the centurion with an extended fist. The droid breaks out into a run as Bo starts firing at it. Your heartbeat rises in a crescendo as scenes from the war replay in your head and you are left useless to stop them. You’re struggling to breathe and sobs are shaking your entire body. Though you can hardly move, you begin to stumble back to the hyper loop and to the rooms provided to you by the duke and duchess.

Your hands are warm and you keep seeing your masters eyes in your head, staring dully into yours. Violent tremors rack your body and your skin is burning hot. You can almost feel phantom blood soaking into your robes, and you tear and paw at your sleeves.

You’re hysterical when Din finds you curled up against the wall. Tears stain your cheeks and you’re muttering hopelessly to yourself about “i wanna go home,” and, “i’m sorry i’m so sorry.”

For a long moment, Din doesn’t know what to do. He stands there feeling helpless as he watches you suffer. His body moves of its own accord when he crouches next to you and places a warm hand on your arm. Your gaze finds him with a sense of numbness in your eyes. “Hey,” he says softly, “I’m here.”

You say nothing in response but tears come back into your eyes and he buries you in his arms, letting you cry into his shoulder as much as you need. Din is the one to break the silence.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” he asks.

“It’s stupid,” you say.

“It’s not stupid, he says, “talk to me.”

So you do. You tell him everything. Your master, your many battles in the war, every time you brushed with death. A weight was lifted off your shoulders, and he was the one to hoist the burden. Din held you the whole time, rubbing soothing circles into your back. Then you told him why you were crying now.

“It’s just, seeing all those droids again…” you start.

“Y/n,” he says sorrowfully, “if I had known.”

“It’s not your fault, Din. You couldn’t have known.” you reassure him.

“I should have. You shouldn’t have to bear that all by yourself.” He thought for a moment. “I’m always here, you know. Whatever you’re going through, you don’t have to go through it alone. You can always talk to me.”

You touch his arm softly, “I know that now, Din.”

Slowly, he starts to stand up and offers you his hand. “C’mon. Let’s get you in bed.”

He leads to to your bed and as you’re getting settled under the thick blanket, you feel the bed dip beneath you as he sits next to you.

“Scoot over,” he says, and you oblige. His arms go to wrap around your waist, and he pulls your body towards his in a comforting manner. He holds you this way for the rest of the night, and as you feel yourself drift into sleep, you know you are loved.

a/n 2: lowkey i hate this but i had no motivation also sorry to the person who requested this i reread your prompt and it said “trauma but hidden really well.” … oops. it’s already written so so sorry js message me if you hate it i’ll rewrite😭

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Clan of Three - Chapter 1

Chapter One: The Mandalorian, The Child, and The Thief

Plot: A Mandalorian, an infant with a history of the jedi, and a teenager with similar powers with an undiscovered lineage. An unlikely group to travel the galaxy together.

Word Count: 5.9K

Pairing: Father Figure!Din Djarin x Platonic!Teen!Reader

Warnings: Fighting, teenage behavior, small injuries

------

A ship known by many for the man on board, he couldn’t even be described as a man. Skillful in languages, the ways of a blaster, and hand-to-hand, part of a race of the past. The bounty hunter, part of the creed. Their famous words, ‘This is the Way’.

The Mandalorian...

Dirt and dust fill the air as the Pre-Galactic ship lands on the planet of Nevarro. A sharp hiss comes from the landing gear as the large ramp opens up a man dressed in the finest armor and weapons stalks through the town. Looks and whispers as he makes his way through the town. A cantina filled with music and booze, its patrons conversating with one another or drinking their problems away but the arrival of this bounty hunter silences them instantly as his cold gaze scans across the room.

Spotting hidden in the corner a dark-skinned man who once his eyes meet his helmet raises a hand, “Ah, that was fast. Did you catch them all?” He asks and the hunter silently places all the tracking fobs on the table in front of him, “Good. I’ll begin the off-load.” The man nods at the seat in front of him and the other man sits down. Pulling his reward from his pocket and sliding them across the table.

“These are Imperial credits.” The Mandalorian says finding no use in them, the empire was something he didn’t want to support. The other man shrugs trying to convince him, “They still spend.”

The masked ban glares at the other man through his helmet, “I don’t know if you heard, but the empire is gone, Greef” His modulated voice shows his disgust and irritation.

“It’s all I’ve got.” The man puts his hands up and the hunter stands grabbing his trackers rather to give them to someone who will pay his preferred currency, “Save the theatrics…fine I’ll.” He sighs pocketing the money and pulling out a different payment, “I can do Calamari Flan, but I can only pay half.” He looks at other options contemplating them before grabbing the blue credits.

Greef signals someone in the cantina who leaves to unload the bounties on the ship, “Okay…I have a bail jumper, bail jumper, another bail jumper, a wanted smuggler-” “I’ll take them all.” The Mandalorian cuts off the man’s listing ready for new work making Greef let out a laugh.

“Nah, hold on. There are other members of the Guild, and this is all I have.” He shakes his head but the bounty hunter didn’t care about other people, “Why so slow?”

“It's not slow at all. Actually, very busy. They just don't want to pay Guild rates. They don't mind if things get sloppy.” Greef explains leaning back in his seat and gesturing to the bar quickly bringing him a drink. The Mandalorian watches him twitching to get off this planet and onto the next bounty and reward,

“What’s your highest bounty?”

“Not much. Five thousand.” Greef recalled his highest payment for all those bounties, the price bothering the hunter,

“That won't even cover fuel these days.”

The Guild member nods slowly before one job he forgot to mention comes to mind, “Hmm. There is one job.”

“Let’s see the puck.” The hunter holds out his hand ready to start.

Greef shook his head taking a sip of his drink, “No puck. Face to face. Direct commission. Deep pocket.” This was not a normal occurrence, bounties always had a puck or something for the bounty hunter. The Mandalorian could only think who was so important to whoever wanted them dead or alive.

“Underworld?” Mando questioned,

“All I know is no chain code” Greef pulls out a chit card placing it on the table between the two of them taunting the hunter the offer not standing for long, “Do you want the chit or not?”

Arriving at the meeting with the client he hadn’t expected the empire to lead to a standoff with four remnant stormtroopers' blasters aimed at him and his weapons aimed at them. A hand stops the soldiers and they all lower their weapons the bounty hunter slowly lowering his but not putting it away. “He also said you were expensive. Very expensive,” The client gestured to him to sit, “Please sit.” The Mandalorian sits down hesitant his hand twitching at his gun when the client grabs something out of view bringing out something wrapped in cloth. Unwrapping it the shining metal glisters in the light the same metal that decorated the hunter’s body. The staple of the Mandalorians is a metal of high value and meaning.

”Beskar?” He says looking at the metal brick surprised to see such a large piece of it.

“Go ahead. It’s real.” The client allows the hunter to inspect the ingot. “This is only a down payment. I have a case of beskar waiting for you upon delivery of the assets.” The client explains his payment being something large until the words acknowledged him

“Assets?” He was only expecting one bounty for this underground work.

The client nods his wrinkled hands folding together in front of him before waving a hand at the hunter, “I’m sure a man of your skill will have no trouble collecting two assets.”

“Alive.” The otherwise silent doctor pops in standing to the side with a data pad filled with whatever information,

“Yes. Alive. Although, I acknowledge that bounty hunting is a complicated profession. This being the case, proof of termination is also acceptable for a lower fee.” The imperial man says and the doctor looks at him in shock, “That is not what we agreed upon.”

“I’m simply being pragmatic.” The client gives his final word before turning back to the silent hunter.

“Let’s see the puck,” He says needing more information before he could decide whether to take the offer. He was going to take it, the second the beskar was brought out he knew it was going to be in better hands once it was returned to the Mandalorians.

The man frowns looking away, “I’m afraid discretion dictates a less traditional agreement. We can only offer you a tracking fob.” The doctor hands the Mandalorian a tracking fob.

“What’s the chain code?’ He asked still prying for information.

“We can only provide the last four digits for each.” The client says.

“Their age? That’s all you can give me?” The Mandalorian says growing more frustrated.

“Yes. One of them is 50 years old while the other is 17 years old. We can also give you the last reported positional data. Between that and the fob, a man of your skill should make short work of this.” The client smirks at the bounty hunters' conflict as he gets up and moves to leave. “The beskar belongs back into the hands of a Mandalorian. It is good to restore the natural order of things after a period of such disarray, don't you agree?”

His decision was made then.

The air was cool on your skin as you left your room slipping out through the window to avoid your father asleep just in the other room. It was calming walking through the silent town, but it quickly changes when hands grab you. One quickly covering your mouth to muffle your screams, you kick your leg back hearing a sickening crack as they roar in pain biting on the hand covering your mouth the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. You try to run off knowing you couldn’t overpower the men, you go to scream out when something collides against your head and you crumble to the ground.

That had been about four weeks ago when you later woke up in a room chained to the wall having no idea where you were and even if you were on your planet. It had been about a week into your captivity when you gained a companion. A creature that must have been an infant had joined you. So you watched the child giving portions of your food since he needed it more and watched over him. Silences were common in the room you were being held in other than the babbles and sounds coming from the babe. Until a loud pop sounded muffled before another, you couldn’t tell what it was until the sounds of screams came with them. Gunfire…

The door burst open and two men enter one unlocking your chains and the other grabbing the child’s carrier bringing you out of the darkroom into a larger one. The sounds of fighting and gunfire grow louder out here, “It’s only two of them out there, why won’t they die!” The one with the child growls out pushing his carrier against a pile of crates the harsh movement making him cry out.

“Stop it. You’re going to hurt it.” You push the man away from the child. He whips around smacking you across the face it stings in pain. You glare at him and spit the blood that pools in your mouth right in his face. He wipes the red off him before quickly lifting his rifle slamming the butt of the gun against your temple and you crumple to the ground.

The fight on the outside is long over and almost unfair to the mercenaries, the doors leading into the building explode open with the heavy weapon the bounty hunter uses. The rubble falls around the doorway created as he enters followed by a droid, IG-11. It’s silent as he stalks inside, with quick reflexes as a lone enemy jumps out and is quickly shot down.

“Anyone else?” The bounty hunter calls out as the droid looks around before down at the tracking fob it had.

“The tracking fob is still active. My sensors indicate that there are two life forms present.” The Mandalorian scans the room coming upon a girl unconscious bleeding from the temple and an egg-shaped container behind her. The tracking fob beeps louder in the direction of both the girl and the container as the hunter cautiously opens it.

“Wait. They said 50 years old.” He looks confused at what was supposedly the 50-year-old asset but looked like a child. 

“Species age differently unlike the female. Perhaps it could live many centuries.” IG-11 explains as the child slowly emerges from the blanket, this tiny green creature looks up at him stretching its hand out to him, “Sadly, we’ll never know.” The IG unit starts to raise its gun but the Mandalorian stops it.

“No. We’ll bring them in alive.” He says commanding the droid to stop and ignore its protocol.

“The commission was quite specific. The assets were to be terminated.” IG raises its two weapons aimed at the child and the girl.

A shot is fired, and the IG unit drops to the ground shot down by the Mandalorian. He puts his blaster back in his holster walking up to the child as it continues to look up at him in wonder. He shifts his gaze from the child to the girl, those two were meant to be his bounties.

Your head stung with pain as you were jostled around in a constant up-down movement. Blinking your eyes adjusting to the bright light, were you dead? Was this heaven? Your vision finally focuses and you see a helmet the visor a T-shape. Fight or flight kicks in as your fist collides with the underside of the mask hitting him straight in the jaw. Not expecting the attack he stumbles still holding you and you push yourself out of his arms. You hit the ground the sand cushioning your fall as you scramble to stand holding out the blade you swiped from his boot. A blaster is pointed at you but you keep your grip on the knife fierce ready to fight. You take in the man before you dressed in armor and weapons, but what had your eyes widen was the design of the helmet. Once you had seen before…Mandalorian.

“Who are you? Where the hell am I?” You hiss out holding the blade with two hands as he has his blaster trained on you before he holsters it holding his hands out showing he was of no harm.

“You're on Arvala-7.” The man says you were slightly taken back that he spoke your language and not Mando’a but you still weren’t taking your chances.

“Who are you?” You glare the knife still pointed at him trying to figure out who he was through the helmet.

“I can’t tell you that but it’s either you trust me or let even more people who aren’t willing to have you alive.” Those mercenaries only kept you alive for whatever reason until this stranger showed up including the child. Your eyes widen…the child!

“Where is it?!” You demand, looking around for the child. You remember the hit of the gun before you were knocked out.

“Where’s what?” “The child.” You see behind him was the container holding him, the creature looking at both of you. “Oh thank the maker, I spent the last few weeks watching over it.” You sigh in relief and the man nods before walking off the carrier following after him,

“We should get going.” You rush after him pocketing the knife in your belt and coming beside him.

“You’re a Mandalorian…I’ve never met a Mandalorian before,” You speak up glancing at the silent man, “What’s your name, you never gave one.” He barely looks at you before walking ahead so you were behind him making you scoff, “asshole.” You mumble under your breath dragging your feet through the sand. He continues silently despite the heavy armor that should be making noise as you all enter the base of a canyon. “So do you ever take off your helmet at all? Like even when you slee-”

His hand juts out making you run into it and you glare up at him from the corner of your eye you see his hand slowly reaching for his blaster. An ambush of Trandoshans wielding axes rushing towards you, one swings its axe at you when he shoves you out of the way. You hit the ground pushing yourself up from the sand when one of the bounty hunters wraps his arms around your waist lifting you up into the air and dragging you from the group.

“Hey! Let…me go!” You thrash in his arms twisting and turning in his grip trying to break free, the loud sound of a gunshot right by your head making your ears ring as the both of you hit the ground. You scramble away seeing the blaster wound in his chest and you look back seeing the Mandalorian holding his blaster pointed at you. He lets out a hiss of pain the metal of one of the axes slicing his arm, he prepares to counter when a blade is protruding from the Trandoshan’s hand. He looks back seeing you holding your hand out having thrown the knife before the both of you are attacked by more hunters. You can see one heading towards the child with your hunter busy fighting off two of them. Looking around having lost your weapon when you grab one of the axes the weight is heavy in your grasp. It’s right before the child when you swing the axe the weight and momentum striking its side a screech coming from it. It swings its own axe out and you block it with the handle of the blade the clang of metal and sparks ring through the air. Kicking out at its side making it cry out in pain you swing the axe digging it deep into its arm. You struggle to pull the weapon free and with its own weapon coming at you, you can only dodge letting go of the blade. If you had been a second late it would have been worse than the blade slicing across your cheek. It raises its axe to bring it down on you when it's shot crumbling to the ground. Looking up seeing the Mandalorian blaster still smoking as you quickly move away from the dead enemies to the hunter and the child.

“Thanks.” You breathe out your hand touching your cheek wincing from the pain pulling back and seeing red. He nods his attention turns to the ground where there is a blinking tracking fob.

“We need to keep moving.” He says the three of you quickly leave the canyon and the remains of the fight. Dusk had long settled the beating sun leaving only the cool night feeling nice on your sweaty skin. Out in the dunes camp had been set up the fire blazing on the open sands, your gaze taking in the embers floating into the air. You were used to this much sand and the heat hadn’t bothered you but it felt foreign now. You were somewhere maybe not in your same system anymore you hadn’t even been off your planet before. Your home was all you knew of and now you had people after you trying to kill you. A hiss of pain comes from the bounty hunter beside you trying to sear his wound up but unable to with the angle of the cut. You move closer trying to help when a blaster is pointed at you making you put your hands up.

“I was just trying to help.” You say slowly sitting back in your spot as he keeps his gaze training on you before slowly putting his weapon away and continuing to fix himself up.

“I don’t need your help.” He says and you roll your eyes turning away and looking at the small creature sitting on a pile of blankets from his carrier his round eyes watching the flames dance in front of him. “Hey.” The hunter calls out and you turn looking over at him in his hands bacta spray and bandages. You scoff looking away and wrapping your arms around your knees.

“Hey!” He calls out moving closer and you turn more away from him, “You need to get patched up or it’s going to get infected.” You look over your shoulder glaring at him.

“I don’t need your help.” You mock his own words back at him and you could feel the annoyance and anger coming through his helmet aimed at you. You let out a shriek when his hand wraps around your arm spinning you around to face him, his gloved hand grasping your jaw holding you in place when you try moving back, “Let me go.” You push against his chest but he doesn’t budge.

He glares at you and you could feel the cool gaze staring back at the metal helmet making your movements come to a stop. He nods before beginning to clean the cut on your cheek before moving to one of your temples. You hiss out in pain when he presses too hard on the wound putting the bacta spray on.

“Would’ve been worse if you didn’t dodge,” He comments when you glare at him in pain, he continues tending to the injury, “Where did you learn to fight like that.” The stoic voice asks finishing pulling back and you bring your hand up touching the bandaged cheek and temple.

“Tatooine,” You say picturing your home the dunes of sands, the shouts of Tuskan Raiders, the wind in your hair on the speeder bikes, and the dual suns that made the perfect sunsets on the best days. “You fight to survive when you don’t got much…I have..had a pretty good teacher back home.” You correct yourself, were you ever going to go home or was this bounty hunter just going to cart you off to whoever wanted you? He nods looking down at his chest plate to fix it. Silence fills the quiet night as you look forward poking at the fire to keep it alive before glancing at the Mandalorian before you speak up.

“I want to thank you…for everything,” You say and you see him pause in his fixing, “You could’ve killed me and the child but you didn’t. I’ve only heard stories about your kind so I don’t know if it’s a religious thing or you're just different.” You quiet feeling embarrassed saying all that but one thought had been plaguing your mind.

“Are you…are you going to bring us home? The child and I?” The mask of his hides his face and anything you would be able to tell, his body language didn’t reveal anything and you couldn’t see his emotions through the metal.

“Yeah, kid…you should try to get some sleep.” He responds, his words bringing hope to believe this stranger. Fixing the child in his carrier asleep for a while before settling against the cool sands the night sky and the stars looking down at you. Whispers of sleep and dreams lull you and the Mandalorian hears a brief mumble from you,

“My name’s Y/n.”

The morning soon arrived and you were up following the hunter to what you assumed was his ship. Walking over the ridge there was his ship but it was getting dismantled by Jawas, creatures you were familiar with on Tatooine. Their large sandcrawler beside the ship loading the scraps.

“Dammit,” The bounty hunter huffs pulling his rifle from his back and laying down on the ridge looking down on the ship and taking aim.

“Wait what are you doing?” Your words are cut off as a beam is sent out hitting one of the jawas disintegrating it. The death of one of its kind sends them into a frenzy trying to run back to the ship as he continues to take out more. He quickly stands sliding down the ridge chasing after them as you and the child follow after him.

“You’re not going to be able to chase after a sandcrawler!” You yell out as he runs after it not before shouting back at you,

“Stay there!” He orders before you freeze watching him disappear with the sandcrawler leaving the two of you by the ship. It had been a while and he hadn’t returned neither did the sandcrawler.

“Kriff come on!” You say setting off after the bounty hunter the child following after you. Following the tracks of the large fortress before you stumble open a body laying along the ground recognizing the Mandalorian helmet. “Oh, maker please don’t be dead.” You say hovering over him, you debate taking off his helmet to see if he was breathing or hand a pulse. Your hands reach for the edge of the helmet ready to pull it off when he shoots up the strong metal colliding with your face making you fall back clutching your nose.

“Kriff! Dammit, that kriffing hurts!” You blink away the tears putting light touches against your nose trying to feel if it was broken. His helmet had to be built with a strong metal cause that hurt a lot. The hunter sits up groaning from his own pain of being electrocuted and kicked off a sandcrawler, “You’re a real asshole, stupid bounty hunter, stupid helmet.” You ramble off pushing yourself to stand your nose throbbing in pain and your head ringing.

He groans pushing himself to stand, “If it’s not broken then you’re fine.” He slings his rifle over his shoulder his body sore as the three of you return to his ship. You and the child sit against some rocks watching the hunter taking in the damage to the ship, he returns from inside the ship and you give him a look. He ignores it and begins to walk back into the desert. Having no choice but to follow, you walked through the dunes and plains the sun beating down on you. How was he not sweating in that armor? Your travels had the sun setting behind you and in the distance, you could see a structure. Growing closer you see it’s a moisture farm and there was a man fixing something.

“This is supposed to fix your ship,” You comment and he doesn’t acknowledge you walking over to the man who looks surprised to see him. You quickly learn the man’s name to be Kuiil as he brought you into his home feeding you the sun had long set the night here.

The Mandalorian stands beside Kuiil the two watching the child watching a frog with much interest chasing after it.

“I thought you were dead.” Kuiil says to Mando as they both watched the child playing with the frog, “These are what was causing all the fuss?” The two look away from the child to the girl, you were leaned against a crate a knife in your hand twisting it in your grasp. You meet his gaze glaring at him making Kuiil laugh. Mando looks down at his boot seeing his blade gone. How did he not notice you took it?

“She certainly doesn’t like you,” Kuiil says and the bounty hunter is silent watching you before turning away.

“I think that one is a child.” He says the child grabs the frog that he was playing with. Kuiil nods looking at the two bounties, “It is better for them to be delivered alive then,”

The bounty hunter shakes his head the problem coming up, “My ship has been destroyed. I’m trapped here.” He had been close to his fight with the Jawas before they gained the upper hand

“Stripped. Not destroyed. The Jawas steal. They don’t destroy.” Kuiil explains and the bounty hunter scoffs,

“Stolen or destroyed- makes no difference to me.” He retorted, frowning remembering what those little cloaked freaks did to his ship, “They’re protected by their crawling fortress. There is no way to recover the parts.”

“You can trade,” Kuiil suggested and the hunter looks at him like he grew three heads.

“With Jawas? Are you out of your mind?”

The older man nods his idea final, “I will take you to them. I have spoken.” They hear fussing and the child is shoving the frog into his mouth to begin devouring.

“Hey! Spit that out,” Mando called out and the Child swallowed the frog whole making you gag as you watch the whole interaction. The night had been spent traveling you had gained a cloak to protect yourself from the rain and by the time it was the day you had arrived at the sandcrawler.

Kuiil climbs off his blurrg leaving the three of you to watch as he greets the Jawas in their language. He turns looking back at the three of you mainly at the bounty hunter, “They really don’t like you for some reason.”

“Well, I did disintegrate a few of them.” The hunter brings up and you could hear the angry noises coming from the cloaked people. His hand instinctively goes to his rifle as a fight almost brews. Kuiil holds out his arm giving a pointed look to the hunter, “You need to drop your rifle.”

“I’m a Mandalorian. Weapons are part of my religion.” He refuses.

“Your religion is about to get us killed.” You hiss at the bounty hunter who glares back at you.

“Then you’re not getting your parts back.” Kuiil says giving the final ultimatum. The Mandalorian sighs putting his rifle down and climbing off the sled. “And the blaster.” He sighs removing that as well. You go to follow him when he points at you.

“Stay.” He says and your jaw drops, you weren't some animal, “And don’t touch my stuff you’re not doing that again,” The memory of him forcing you to return the blade is still fresh in your head. Maybe he should be more careful of his items. You roll your eyes sitting back down with the child watching the conversation.

Kuiil listens to the Jawa before turning to the Mandalorian, “They will trade all the parts for the beskar.” He shakes his head blowing up in anger pointing at them,

“I’m not gonna trade anything. These are my parts. They stole them from me.” He says “They, they….belong to me!” He speaks Jawa though it’s truly bad and you stifle your laughter.

“You speak terrible Jawa. You sound like a Wookiee.” One of the Jawa says and he loses his temper swiping his hand out with his flamethrower making them all yell out.

“You understand this?!” “No! Whoa, easy, easy.” Kuiil quickly diffused the fight before speaking to the Jawa, “He is Mandalorian. He cannot give you his beskar armor. What else may he trade?”

You hadn’t noticed some Jawas coming by the sled until they were inspecting the child’s carrier and poking you with their staff.

“Hey! Stop it get away.” You stand up shouting at them in Jawa alerting the bounty hunter who stands up.

“Get away from them!” He shouts and they scatter away from the two of you.

“There must be something else,” Kuiil says and the Jawas turn to discuss amongst themselves before turning around.

“We will require The Egg. Bring us The Egg.” It says and your hunter looks confused, “The Egg? What Egg?” You were confused as well as Kuiil groaned facepalming as the Jawas continue to chant.

The Jawas allow you all to travel by sandcrawler before you arrive at a series of rocky formations. The three of you minus Kuiil dismount and begin to walk through the rock formations toward an open clearing leading to a cave. “Shouldn’t I have a weapon in case you fail or something?” You bring up and he glares at you ignoring your request leaving you and the child to watch him venture inside the cave. It’s silent for a bit before a loud roar comes from the cave and out comes the Mandalorian and a large mudhorn. You watch him fire blast at the creature before reloading his weapon and the creature charges throwing him against the mud.

“Not doing so well!” You shout at him which draws the attention of the beast who charges at you and the child, “Crap!” You shout rolling out of the way mud covers your knees and arms as the child’s carrier dodges in the other direction. The mudhorn turns ready to charge again when flames unleash burning it. It tries retreating back to its den but he latches onto it with a grappling line around the horns. Shaking him aside attacking with said horns and hooves to the ground. It goes to stop down at him you rushing forward when the creature suspends in midair. A feeling you hadn’t felt in a while covers your skin as your hand whips around to look at the child its tiny hand held out. You hear the sound of the blade driving into flesh but your attention is focused on the small creature.

The Mandalorian slowly approaches the child seeing the look of slight fear on your face looking down at the child before it collapses in its cradle asleep. His gaze shifts to yours, your face seems plain but he could see the fear in your eyes that you were trying to hide. He turns walking back into the cave and returning with the egg. You had arrived back at the sandcrawler with the egg the Jawas rejoiced taking it and cutting it open devouring the insides.

“Mando!” Kuiil calls out to the bounty hunter.

“I’m surprised you waited?” Mando says and Kuiil nods looking at him,

“I’m surprised you took so long,” Kuiil says and the Jawas quickly prepare the sled with the parts of his ship. Then you were back off to the ship. You were sat in the back with the parts of the child’s carrier resting beside you as you look out on the horizon. You could hear their conversation but chose to ignore it, your mind more focused on what you had witnessed. You hadn’t imagined it you had truly seen it with your own eyes. That feeling that rushed over you had opened up something that had been locked up in fear. As you look down at this child you could feel a connection form.

The child was still asleep when you arrived at the dismantled ship, “There is no way we're gonna get this to work without a full maintenance facility. This is gonna take days to fix.” Mando says looking over the wrecked ship.

“If you care to help it might go faster. There is much work to do.” Kuiil says ready to begin the repairs. The night continues over you all as the two repairs the ship. Your head is deep in wires in the cockpit the fusion cutter grasp in your mouth as you moved cables around. Maker, this whole ship was a mess, did he purposely want a ship that was slow? As you go to move another wire, you feel hands grab your legs pulling out from the open panel and you look up to see Mando glaring down at you.

“Why are you touching my ship?” He growls out, were you tampering with it to make this harder for him? You scoff pushing him away from you and crawling back to the open panel.

You ramble off fixing the wiring but it would just be easier to get an entirely new ship. “More like fixing, like how could you allow it to get like this! Your hyperdrive is so outdated that makes you two times slower than most ships. Then there are the core processes and your sensor systems dying on you. Your better off selling this hunk of junk and getting something that’s not Pre-Galactic, hey!” His hands grab your legs again pulling you out of the panel but you were already done. He pulls you up to your feet pushing you down to a seat.

“Stop touching things,” He snatches the fusion cutter, “Just don’t even move.” He glares at you which you equally return. He steps back before turning his back from you and heading down out of the cockpit. You cross your arms settling in, maker what an asshole.

Mando sighs the last of the repairs are finished having repaired or fully restored the ship’s systems and parts. He turns looking down at Kuiil, “I can't thank you enough. Please allow me to give you a portion of the reward.” He says and the man shakes his head.

“I cannot accept. You are my guest, and I am therefore in your service.” He shakes his head and Mando nods looking at the ship,

“I could use a crew member of your ability. And I can pay handsomely.” He offers but Kuiil refuses.

“I am honored. But I have worked a lifetime to finally be free of servitude.” Kuiil says and Mando nods moving towards his ship as Kuiil mounts his blurrg. “I understand. Then all I can offer is my thanks.” Mando says.

“And I offer mine. Thank you for bringing peace to my valley and good luck with those two. May they survive and bring you a handsome reward. I have spoken.” Kuiil watches as the Mandalorian enters his ship sitting in the pilot's seat his two bounties beside him, the child was asleep in his cradle and you were leaning against the wall in your chair your eyes closed. He fires up the engines of the Razor Crest is roaring to life as he takes off leaving the planet behind.

To Nevarro.

[anonymousewrites]

Clan of Three Pride Special 2024

Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader

Pride Special 2024

            “What’s going on there?” asked (Y/N) as they, Mando, and Bo-Katan walked through the streets of a planet that they were meeting with for trade deals with Mandalore.

            “It looks to be some kind of festival,” said Bo-Katan, glancing off to the side.

            (Y/N) watched curiously as the festival continued. There were people dancing to music and holding up banners of every color possible. One sign read “Pride in who I am,” and something in (Y/N)’s heart ached at the word.

            They knew they were different than others—alone in a universe full of cultures. Ushti had been destroyed, ravaged by the Empire. (Y/N) had no family or home left there. And now at Mandalore, they were forced to recognize (often) that they had not been born Mandalorian and so didn’t understand or connect to the other children as much as they wanted to. (Y/N) tried, and, since they had their Buir and had been literally chosen by Mandalore the Great for…something. So, yes, they belonged.

            But they were also force-sensitive, had nearly become a jedi, and that would have made them an enemy of Mandalorians. Of course, they also had less of a gendered identity as others, and that sometimes made them feel different. So, between all the cultures, abilities, and identities they held, sometimes (Y/N) felt very separate from people—as if they did belong in any one place.

            It had worked out, and (Y/N) had a great family and bonds, but sometimes…sometimes they wondered if who they were was too fractured. They were just a teenager, after all. Their sense of self wasn’t complete, and they were still learning to be comfortable in their own skin.

            “Huh…” said (Y/N), forcing themself to look away and focus on the walk towards the council chambers. They and Mando would be backing up Bo-Katan in preliminary discussions. So, (Y/N) had no time to doubt themself. They needed to focus.

            “Are you alright, Verd’ika?” asked Mando. Grogu babbled in his arms.

            “I’m fine,” said (Y/N), nodding. “Just tired of treaty-making already.”

            “We haven’t even started,” said Bo-Katan.

            “Exactly,” said (Y/N).

            Bo-Katan chuckled in amusement, and Mando shook his head fondly. Both adults knew that, despite (Y/N)’s aptitude (and desire) for fights, they were surprisingly skilled at speaking with people, too. Not a lot of the time, but when Bo-Katan had them around in council meetings or discussions for treaties, (Y/N) would run their mouth and go through anger, annoyance, and then helpfulness (accidentally).

            After everything with the Darksaber and (Y/N)’s visions of Mandalore the Great, Bo-Katan and Mando had come to the conclusion that (Y/N) was suited to helping others. The world seemed to want them to, and (Y/N) was good at it.

            Neither would push (Y/N) into leading or trying to make them take on more responsibility, but they both knew it. Mando in particular had seen that (Y/N) had strength and the force (literally, the Force) to fight for what they cared about, and he, although lacking force-sensitivity, felt something lay within them that would make them an impressive Mandalorian—even more than they already were.

            But, again, Mando would never push them towards anything. That was his kid. He wasn’t going to push (Y/N) into anything they weren’t capable of, and they had already been through so much, so Mando would be damned before someone hurt what little childhood and safety he could offer his ad’ika.

            And if they seemed interested in a festival in the middle of debates for treaties? Mando would make sure they had a moment to have fun instead of being stuck in politics.

            Mando would make sure (Y/N) had the joyful moments they deserved.

l

            “So, we’re in accordance?” said Bo-Katan, smiling pleasantly as she leaned back in her chair. Across the table, the council members of the planet nodded.

            “Yes, the terms of trade are favorable. We are pleased to have Mandalore back, and, these terms will be upheld should you start producing materials for trade once more,” said a council member.

            “Good,” said Bo-Katan, rising. She shook the council members’ hands.

            Mando didn’t move from where he stood as a guard in shining beskar. It would be more intimidating if not for the little green child riding on his shoulder. However, he was helped by the teenager by his side, harsh marking around their eyes as they glowered at everyone who had tried to get more out of the trading agreement then was fair ((Y/N) always caught those types of people, and it was yet another reason Bo-Katan and Mando were proud of them).

            “If you have any time, you should stay for the festival,” said one council member, one of the ones that had actually been helpful. “It is quite nice, and after business, it is a nice break.”

            “What is it about?” asked Mando.

            “It is a Pride festival to celebrate our people’s struggles centuries ago against bigotry due to sexuality or gender,” explained the councilor, smiling. “It is to celebrate being ourselves.”

            “We’ll consider it,” said Bo-Katan. “Thank you for meeting with us.” She walked out of the room with Mando, Grogu, and (Y/N).

            “Verd’ika do you want to go?” asked Mando as they walked.

            (Y/N) glanced at him. “I don’t care.”

            “We’re going,” said Mando firmly. He knew (Y/N) had been interested, so he was taking them to it.

            “I didn’t know you were queer,” said Bo-Katan.

            “I don’t label myself,” said Mando as they turned through the streets towards the swell of music.

            Bo-Katan nodded in understanding. “I’m bisexual.” She glanced at (Y/N). “What about you, kid?”

            “I don’t label my sexuality,” said (Y/N). “I don’t really know what it is. But I’m nonbinary.”

            “Then we all have something to celebrate,” said Bo-Katan. She spotted a stand with some food. “Have fun. We’ll meet back at the ship in an hour.” She walked to get herself some food, and Mando and (Y/N) were left alone.

            (Y/N) watched the people dancing and marching down the street, and Mando looked at them.

            “You should join them. You should be proud of yourself,” said Mando.

            “I’m not insecure about my gender identity,” said (Y/N), shaking their head. “I’ve never had an issue with that.”

            “You should be proud of your entire identity,” said Mando. “You’ve been very strong over the years. You should remember that. You fought to be here today.”

            (Y/N)’s heart clenched, and they shrugged half-heartedly. “Yeah, but I don’t really belong here. I didn’t fight for their rights. Besides, I’m not from this planet. I’m Ushti. And Mandalorian. And…I’m a lot.”

            “You don’t have to be one thing,” said Mando.

            (Y/N) glanced at him. “Yeah, but I’m a lot.”

            “That’s fine,” said Mando. “You’re a good kid. You’re my kid. And I’m proud of who you are. All of who you are.”

            (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile. “Even if I’m Ushti and force-sensitive and Mandalorian and trouble?”

            “I wouldn’t want you to change who you are,” said Mando. “You wouldn’t be my verd’ika if you weren’t.”

            (Y/N) smiled widely. “Thanks, Buir.” They stepped towards the crowd of celebrators.

            Mando watched them go. They had grown so much, and they still had so much longer to go. One day, they were going to be someone incredible. Actually, (Y/N) already was. But Mando was glad they weren’t grown up yet. They deserved to just exist and be happy with who they were in the present, first. The future would come, but it wasn’t there today.

            Today, (Y/N) was (Y/N). And that was enough.

Taglist:

@im-making-an-effort

@gr33n-d00dles

@alexpangender

@painstakingly-juno

@treehouse-mouse

@theurbannoodle

@pedropascalsidechick

@dmitrytherat

@dilfsaremyfavourite

[court-jobi]

Best Medicine

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader (AFAB | fem pronouns, but fairly neutral)

Words: 7.7k

Rating: Teen/Mature, 18+ (spicy first half) (K'oyacyi, sweet minors)

Warnings: Implied sensual release, grinding, cuddling, love confessions, carbonite sickness, language, memory loss, emotional hurt/comfort, survivor’s guilt, sleep intimacy, talks of consent/taking advantage, FEELINGS, the helmet comes off, Mandalorian marriages, Din deserves everything wonderful, Fluff/Hurt/Comfort roller coaster ride, angst with a happy(ish?) ending~

//set in pre and post- Season Two | The Mandalorian and the Book of Boba Fett (time jump)...// Translations included at end of work//

A/N & credits: Honorable mentions to @writerlyhabits for helping my mind run wild with carbonite sickness headcanons, and for inspiring me to write out this emotional ride of comfort-HURT-comfort for you all. It’s not often I make any form of whump, my Tumblr lovelies, so be kind and apologies in advance for this… It was both a challenge and an adventure to write~ I promised there’s a lovely silver lining in all my works, and I hope this one is enjoyable!

✨May the 4th be with y'all✨

Need more Star Wars fics? Get your fix w/my masterlist HERE!

Read on AO3

Summary: These are the soft moments you live for: each caress and light word of banter chisel the dark heaviness of life away, chip by chip. Tonight’s no different– you are swept up into the arms of Mando who’s taken your bait, and loving every minute of it. You’re overdue for a break and some quality time.

The quiet cabin of the Razor Crest gave you the space for cozy confessions, to learn more of his mother tongue, and give in to your tendency to get carried away like teenagers, if just for a spell.

Laughter is the best medicine: from the dead of hyperspace, to whatever bed you've landed on while on the run. Yet will that be the case– as the cruelty of time and circumstance test it?

"Ho-okay, c'mere you."

Relishing in your giggles as you wedged your hand in between his newly exposed ribcage, the Mandalorian let out the catch in his throat and quickly picked you up by your thighs– the perfect way to toss you up on one shoulder. You squealed and couldn't stop laughing even as he groused about your ‘cheeky hands where I can see them’, and walked you over to his quarters. 

He swung you back down so that you plopped with a bounce on the recently laundered bunk. It’s tidy – well, was, before you fell onto it– and still smells fresh and windblown from your last stop. Pliant under his shadow, he towered over you with a hand on each side of your head. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t wearing armor; he’s still impressive.

"Do I have to teach you to mind your manners, too?" The rasp came out as annoyed, but you knew better.

He chides the kiddo all the time. 'Quit picking at things', 'don't give her that attitude'; all the magic words have to be instilled in him, as well as just keeping to himself and not being a nuisance. Munchkin has to be taught such things; they're juvenile. 

That's not what he means with you. He's talking about the glances, the bounce of your foot taunting him when your legs cross, the playing with your belt which then tugs your neckline… when you line up your scope just right, just as he taught you, and you give him all the credit. 

You really don't have to try hard at all to get Mando’s attention– it's the game of keeping a step away that leads into a chase that gets under his skin. Especially when he just knows you're up to it. 

You have a few hours to kill until the next leg of your adventure begins. It’s bound to be a restless one when you touchdown planetside, so spoil him, you shall.

You couldn't stop smiling when he caught you.

"C'mon, you can't blame me, space cowboy. You're fun to tease." 

Since you were taken down, you brushed your hair back, let your arms hang above your head, toying with him through your eye’s bat.

The visor transfixed on you told you everything you needed to know: you were practically gift-wrapped under him, and he’s obsessed with the view. That was by design.

Your laughter died down to little hums as you watched him glance to the wall, back to you, then again toward the shelf. He finally decided to palm the panel brusquely to shut the door behind him: encasing you both in automatic darkness. 

You heard the click of the underside of his helmet. A relaxed, hollowed chuckle transitioned to a bright one to fill the silence. 

Jackpot.

Strong arms came slowly down to the bed to hold you, with a warm, -now ungloved- hand brushing more hair back that had framed your face every which way.

The Mandalorian cooed down at you with a saccharine smile you knew had to be there,

"I love hearing you laugh…"

Hearing and touch senses honed in, you reached tentatively to where his shoulder would be, pulling him in and inviting him to lay in his newly claimed spot between your legs. The Mandalorian followed so, gingerly.

You murmured an affirmation as a questioning reply, coupled with a breathy string of chuckles to confirm his desires. Truly your eyes couldn't know the difference between open and closed in total blackness, anyway.

"--and I love listening to you sing," he praised you again. “I can hear you better this way.”

You hummed sweetly, 

"Aww, so you do enjoy being serenaded huh? Big, scary bounty hunter brought to his knees by a wannabe wordsmith with a funny accent?"

Eager lips laid their caring touch to your forehead. 

“Every time." He pressed little cheek kisses to you, too, explaining his untold, priceless comforts in between, "The minute you put the kid to bed is my favorite part of the day."

He feels your fingers trail up to his hair, nails taking through the crimped mess of curls there. He froze his affections the moment you did that. You ease moans out of him at one, singular touch.

He doesn't care how small he sounds, you think. All he knows is ‘I’m safe.’

"And this, is mine:" you said with a softness reserved for him. All teasing is set aside when you do choose to be serious. You shifted so he can let down more weight onto you in the newly shared room, "Taking care of the one man who puts everything and everyone else before himself. It's quite the honor, for me."

Sighs fall from him so easily. You'd imagine his eyes shut at that. 

“It’s you who honors me,” Mando countered.

You wanted these moments to count: taking any chance you could to affirm and provide whatever comfort you can with the little downtime you had.

You know he won't show you, but it doesn't keep you from wondering… when he's so close, you wonder what he looks like under the helm. What kind of hair, how long. What breaks in the skin have cut into him after wearing it for so long, or did he have any prior to swearing on the names of his Ancestors. 

What of his eyes alone? There's the usual gemlike hues, earthy tones; or there's always the artificial overlays people use to disguise themselves or the retinal scans– it's just a special effect they use in those holovids you watch on the weekends. Just the kind he mocked when he caught you watching them. 'Silly and pointless and ridiculously scripted.' And yet while he sassed about the waste of time, you often corralled him enough so that he'd at least sit with you while he cleaned off the carbon scoring of his rifles, to watch them passively by your side… he'd caved to your whims if you so much as touched him. That's what got you here.

With him at his most docile, you felt brave enough to ask what has always mystified you,

"What color are your eyes, hon?"

You heard Mando’s head tilt up with its sleepy intake of breath. A flash of worry that you overstepped hit you, feeling his form rise from its concave state under your touch… but he didn't go away. Fingers wound their way to cup the back of your neck instead– 

–to prepare to taste yours in just a few moments.

"Purple," he answered.

You snorted at the lie. It's just a little bluff, but you'll entertain it… you both are teetering in the realm of what's permitted within his Creed anyway. 

His lips are a breath from yours. You played along; like you'd won the guessing game,

"I knew it."

Your winner’s kiss was the touch of warmth he'd needed all day. 

Eh, maybe he'd tell you the truth one day, maybe not– besides, you don't have any brainpower left to wonder when he's kissing you. 

One turned into two and more, with the Mandalorian’s hands roaming your features until they reached low enough to switch spots and roll you over onto his chest instead. His palm’s exploration over your shoulder gave you the chance to pull away for a breath, leaving you to process the shivers he's causing and taking the time to relish his touch.

"I really do have to thank you," Mando confessed between deep breaths. Deep, like he was really breathing for the first time today. "I've– never felt so.. safe. Ever -in all my life- than when I'm with you."

You melted, until he said more.

"Feels like I’ve cheated the Fates to even be left standing, much less lie down without needing to keep an eye open. I never-- really thought I.. deserve this."

You wondered why. Your browline tensed with worry, why he would be so self-deprecating even after a career like his… littered with wins and paygrades and beskar trophies?

"Ill-deserving of what?" You asked plainly. "--having someone care about you?"

Your Mandalorian fell quiet, simply running a hand up and down your back with complete tenderness. Where his blunted nails caught your skin on the backstrokes, the pads of his glove-worn hands soothed the loving scratches’ path. 

This silent confirmation wouldn’t cut your questions: it’s still a force of habit, Mando using actions to show what he means. 

"You give me kindness. Kindness that," Mando spoke of the wonder of this feeling, "I had to convince my heart to accept. Who'd dare refuse a gift from you… But I can't help feeling it's wasted on someone like me."

Someone like him: a hunter? Or a Mandalorian? Folks frowned upon both mantles. You knew the biases, but you treated him fairly, made him feel valid– even before your feelings for him grew into something much sweeter than a working coexistence. Thank the Stars, you were so happy to find your chemistry was a feeling Mando shared after a late night with a too-close call. A feeling he was apparently still getting used to- hence the apparent guilt of what ‘gift’ he'd been given by having someone so generous like you for a partner.  

This broke your heart every time. Not just hearing his affirmations and words of appreciation when they catch you off guard– but how he’d thank you for the most basic needs of his own.

"Honey," you leaned down your forehead to his, "You matter. Whether you believe it or not, you're loved and not alone in this galaxy. Your words, feelings, they matter to me. It's not wasted, any of it, baby. I'm honored to be the one who gets to love you on the day-to-day basis, yeah, but... even if I wasn't in the picture, I should hope you’d still seek out getting your needs met. That's all anyone wants, I think." 

You caressed his stubbled jaw line with your thumb as it slid and traced down the seams to his chest. Something inspiring bumbled around in your head, so you tried working it out.

"You know as well as I do... these days can blur together so fast when we're moving too fast. We– get in the way of our own thoughts, and that can make our minds a messy place. It’s easy then, we forget how needed our wants are, sometimes.”

The hands caressing you stilled; reverent to every word you said.

“Keep your word, settle your debts, all that’s still true,” you shook your head, “But please don't forget this part, hon... You matter, and that includes the softer things you want. The nice things. What the amazing, kind- hearted man underneath needs."

No person has ever respected him so much. To honor his creed and what it entails, to support what he did, the lifestyle he chose-especially one as taxing as this. He wouldn't call himself a kind man; he was a killer, detached and for the longest time, keen to remain that way.. But if this woman so dear to him said so, maybe he was learning to be gentle after all.

You wished more than ever that you could stare him in the eyes so you'd know he heard you– but you swung for the next best thing: you held your hand right on top of his heart. Its beat was faint under his padded underarmour, but there.

His breath faltered at the touch. 

Mando reached his to find the digits caressing him and dancing his along each one: skin to skin. Has no one really ever told him that? A little huff of air escaped him; you felt his head shake from the motion rustling the pillow beneath him.

"Hell, you're sweet," Mando brought your fingers off and laced them to his lips. "You mean that."

"Of course I do. I don't say it to prove I'm being right. I want you to know the truth."

He was quiet again. Only this time, a purposeful finger ran along your side to coax you out. Tickle, more like.

"Ok, sometimes I like being right!!" you rushed out to make him stop.

"I have a running list of wagers a mile long that says otherwise, cyar'ika. You fool no one, let alone me." 

Mando amused himself every now and then, a sound you loved like a drug, too. You took control and dove up for another kiss, his deep laugh turning into something stronger, deeper. He always kissed you like he was drowning and you were his source of life and air. As if you'd fly away at any minute.

His hands pulled you tightly to him, demanding closeness with firm, undulating grips on your thigh and on your neck to direct you. Kiss after kiss, you eventually led from your point of leverage to start kissing down his neck as an experiment.  He'd gasped at first, but the good kind. The kind that begged, not stalled for less.

“Loving on me,” Mando rasped, “Is that wha’ you– you’re calling nngthis?”

Your boy needed reassurance, something awful, tonight.

You'd normally tease him as you go, gauging his response to touching these new places, but were kind about it tonight. As touch-starved as your Mandalorian is, you didn't want to overwhelm him.

So you merely paused, gave a sweet “Sir, yes, sir~” and carried on after a quick peck on the cheek.

You couldn’t help but let your giddiness escape again when you reached a soft spot on his neck; one that made him say your name in an awestruck cry. Soft on the clips, long on the vowels. God, you love the sound of it, bobbing under your waiting lips as you worship the space. He's warm, stubbled, and just perfect. 

"The way you say my name,” you beamed, “I'm starting to think you like me or something, honey."

Mando sighed out, moving a hand to the back of your head to get your attention:

"Din."

You still kissed him, asking him to repeat with a little hum.

"m'... m' name."

The loving haze blew away, and you with it. A zing thrummed to life in your chest. He’s never told you his name– ‘anonymity was his strength’ dictating the secrecy, after all. Despite the dark, you leaned up on an elbow. 

Your eyes went wide, looking into nowhere at the wall, breathless at the discovery.

"Your name is Din?" 

He was just as breathless beneath you, equally rendered mute as you were. Made sense, it was the first time he'd said the word to anyone in years; the proof lay in how his chest was heaving, "Yes."

"...Din."

He melted at the sound of it on your tongue. 

"Din Djarin." he offered up his family name.

"Din Djarin." so you honored the clan, just the same.

He shuddered, "Fuck, yes".

In a surge, Din Djarin -no longer just the man you affectionately called ‘hey you’- pulled you back to his lips. Heated minutes passed with his hands all over you and your delighted, soft laughs breaking your kisses from pure happiness. 

You now knew his name. Two words that coded him in a way few knew, and you were one of the select recipients of such intimate knowledge. This would take your bond to new heights tonight, and you could barely stand the euphoria that flooded you.

You'd started shuffling about with your hips instinctively over his once as much as your perch allowed and when they settled as an unintentional roll, Din sighed deeply and with a tighter grip. One hand gathered up your hair in his hand, where he could relish the waves in it and hold you back enough where he could lap at your neck as you'd done to him. Your hips found permission to work their magic and you were met with a carnal side of the Mandalorian you'd anticipated he held back all along. Even though his thick trousers and your leggings separated you two entirely, it was enough to scratch the itch and blind him even more to anything around him in a matter of seconds.

Little phrases passed Din’s lips; sweet nothings you thought, with no idea for their meaning. But with him talking, you didn't care if he was reciting the alphabet, his dinner order, or the damn 'Ode to the Empire’. He was practically praying hotly in your ear, and that was a buzz you'd never try to stop and put a pin in the moment to demand a pocket translator.

"Mesh’la, cyar’ika. Ka'ra jaon'kov, cuy’gar mesh’la. B’d jate... Jatne o'r ner sur'haai…" 

One deep roll sent him gripping you tight so he bucked back. The sensation hit you in a special place too; you cried out a bit louder than you anticipated. Before you could even think to be shy about it, Din sucked hard on your neck– and your surprise jumped an octave.

"That's it, sweetheart." Din swallowed, "Kriff, that's a good girl." 

He set a pace that you had no control of anymore. You'd be losing control yourself soon enough.

A bit helplessly, you whimpered along with the rolls, listening to his begs, 

"Din, I ---nnnguhhh"

"What is it, sweet girl? Rejorhaa'ir ni. Does that feel good, huh?"

"Mhmmm.. it feels good,"

"You sound good. Heavens, you sound amazing. So.. so fucking pretty.." Din sought a sloppy makeout that you happily fell into. 

From the warmth buzzing in your face through your body, you shot away breathless in a tiny whine into his cheek; something was going to burst inside.

"Ohmygodohmygod, Mand– Din, I can't..."

He ground up a bit faster, "Ni ganar’e, cyare, I've got you. Let go. Let me hear you, c'mon."

You'd whined again, shaking your head against your better judgment. 

Sensing the fight in you, Din fisted the hand on your hair into a deliciously tight hold– his loving, seductive mouth speaking into the soft flesh by your jaw while his hand explored its way down to your thigh.

"C'mon, I know you're close. C'mon." The bass in his voice turned it into a growl easily. He was desperate too. "Be my best girl, like I know you are."

Oh God that tempted you. You'd been grinding faster, yourself. Not unlike hearing the pre-flight tells you catch when the engines cycle power in the cockpit: you're racing the lighting inside you while still trying to be conscious of the moment. Staying centered on him. 

On Din. Din Djarin.

And with another suckling, lazy kiss to your neck, you'd cried out. The tremors jolted within you, subsiding into trembling shakes even when you quit thrashing against him.

Din's hand dropped to brace your back after your rush, keeping up his pace while you fought for breath. His voice choked out fast, too, ending his chase in a hard groan and his own hips rutting against you a few times harder than the rest, then fell back altogether. Your highs concluded quickly– with the mellow clang of his head thunking against the bar at the top of his bunk as he fell back.

You didn’t mean to, but you chuckled at his small 'ow', so you cupped your hand up to cradle his head. Massage it, to comfort. Even he, the man who takes vibroblades to the flesh and barely sheds a tear, feels vulnerable enough to give a little whine out to play for sympathy.

 Catching your breath has never felt so good.

 Soon enough though, you felt both his hands slide to your hips and push up a bit.

You lifted gingerly, "Oh, am I hurting you?"

"I.. I uh,... made a mess." Din sounded so winded.

You ran hot at that admission.

"Oh. Heh, sorry ‘bout that."

"Oh hell, don't you apologize for that," You could hear the smile, albeit the awkward stumbling behind it. "Wait- wait here." 

He tipped you on your side and kissed you quick. 

"Eyes closed?”

You nuzzled his forehead pressed onto yours, "Already there."

"Atta girl." Din  leaned into another kiss.

He left and changed quickly. Gave you enough time for you to collect your hair up and over the pillow from where it got mussed, hugging a pillow to yourself in his place, still giddy at making the Mandalorian lose himself.

Making Din lose himself.

By his dulled footsteps and overhead bar of light painting a Mandalorian-shaped shadow onto the door again, you hid in your pillow dramatically. The rumbles of his voice carried to you as the door closed and he crawled back to you as before; bare to the room once more and laughing at your comical eagerness for him to shed the helmet again.

"Ok–" Din’s welcoming hand pulled your arm down; familiar, to when he'd collected your hands at the start.

"Hey you." You cooed shyly.

"Hey you." He purred back.

You lifted up into another kiss, this one much calmer and softer, having been sated in the most tender way with him.

Settling back, breathless you muttered out a quick 'hey' to bring him back to the present. "Teach me how to say something?"

Obeying your pause, he slowed to a stop. "In Mando'a?” he asked.

"Mhm?"

Interest piqued his tone, “What do you want to say?”

What your heart’s been singing for months every moment he has his back turned. What you’ve meant and said a thousand different ways other than the three standard words. Only this time, you want him to be in on the secret, too. You wanted to be able to tell him this in a way that will only resonate with him:

“..I wanna say 'I love you'.”

Din went rigid. Then straightening up, he brushed your hair back soothingly, falling to a whisper- another secret.

"We would say..ni kar'tayl gar darrasuum."

“Ni cart ah-"

He chuckled, "ni kar'tayl,"

"ni kar'tayl,"

"gar,"

"gar?"

"darrasuum."

"darrasuum."

"That's it. All together?" Din guided. 

You tried for all three, and when it did , it slid perfectly off your tongue so that a happy, wet sound left him. Something about it must have stung his eyes you couldn't see. You pressed a couple small kisses to his lips.

Mando’a was a gorgeous, sonorous language– and quite possibly the trickiest to pick up.

Then your tone turned curious, "Haven't… you been saying that to me? All this time?"

"You remembered." He nuzzled your forehead, but shook his head a little to answer, ‘not quite’ teased in his motion. "Kar'tayl means 'to know', or another way... It means to care deeply, to care for. Mandalorians use it for many things, depending who they speak it to. There is no word for 'love', so... "

"To really know someone is to love them." You finished sweetly.

You hit the nail on the head, and speaking that core tenet earned you a loving sweep of Din’s thumb across your cheek.

It’s inevitable; your chest was going to burst.

"That's beautiful, Din." You blissfully sighed. He snuck both arms around you, pulling you forward. “Din Djarin.”

"It means so much," he whispered, "--coming from you..."

In that moment, you hoped his heart could rest…

FIVE MONTHS LATER

Din lays at your back, having nestled up subconsciously overnight. 

His arm -the perfectly still, bracing one he relies on when he scouts- found its place so easily spooned beneath yours. Proof you are part of a matching set: intwined in love and bond and safety, even in sleep– at least to him, who you knew once felt he didn’t deserve such sweetness and warmth.

This would have been nothing out of the ordinary, nothing out of character for Din to do with you in bed. He cuddled you nightly, religiously, from that first evening onward, sharing your bed and souls alike since you spoke your first word of love to him. Normally, you’d welcome it, you always welcome him.

But– not now. Now, it set you on edge. Since his last shift of the blankets when he rolled over, you haven’t been able to fall back asleep. In uneasiness, you lie awake and aware of how a once tender act was wrong. Your conscience nags at your gut: no, no, no.

Not like this. 

He doesn't know what he's doing.

Stop him. 

Tell him to move.

Move him.

You willed yourself awake when Din curled in; you really shouldn’t allow this. But for the sake of his rest as all the docs all say he needs, you let him seek his peace however makes him the most comfortable, content enough to watch the ongoing lanes of traffic of early and late commuters of the Ring out your window’s slats. 

Sleep wasn’t easy for you now anyway– not with this every present knot in your throat. It’s set to burst when your mind wanders too far towards what got you here…

There were two callsigns you memorized since meeting Din– not as a request or favor, but a demand. One of course, was his, and the other belonged to one of the last Mandalorians standing from his former covert as a last resort. One that he quizzed you on over and over about answering, ‘should anything ever happen to me’. 

One day, that callsign just pinged you– and sent a good bit of ice into your stomach when you greet a wide-cut blue helm filling your holo. 

“Master Vizsla.”

“Lady Djarin,” Paz greeted with a warm-enough familiarity. 

Something in the way he chose how he delivered his words around you told you that he’s perhaps making an effort to appear personable over a holomessage, whereas he may put on fewer airs face-to-face.

You were honest, 

“I feel like there’s few reasons someone like you would call me, and none of those reasons strike me well…”

“ I’ve only said two words, little bird. Your intuition is a curious one,” his helmet shook a little, “-though, not misplaced...”

You leveled your face, waiting to hear what he had to say.

“I have news. I recovered your riduur. He is alive, though not in the same state as when he left you.”

Now that is a curious response. 

You outsourced yourself for a job and have taken a good, six-week-long hiatus from your shared space rented on the Glavis Ringworld pursuing your own contracts. Although confident in this share of responsibility, it’s been harder being away from each other than either of you anticipated. You spoke on comms for each other’s voices about every other rotation in your separation, though never nearly as far from each other’s mind. But this was your marriage, one you honored in every way- together or apart. 

And anything to bring in some extra credits, and… take your mind off the kiddo’s absence… has been a welcome distraction. 

Only now, with Paz’s news, you’re both relieved and far more anxious to learn just why Din hasn’t answered your hails from an unusual, weeklong stretch of radio silence…

“Sorry, not the same– state?” you asked, “what do you mean? What about his state…”

Before your headspace had the chance to spin– running wild with concern over his body, what he could have suffered, could have fought, could have breathed, ingested, poisoned–

“...state of mind, I fear.” was Paz’s cool answer. “He has lost his Path, and you need to help him guide it back where it belongs.”

This, as it would turn out, was not so easy a malady to heal.

You met Paz at his transmitted coordinates to collect your husband and work through what was to become the biggest challenge this -or any relationship in your life- has ever faced:

Fekking carbonite sickness. Or whatever corrupted version of it Din Djarin had quite literally trapped himself into.

While on his own mission, Paz recovered a poorly thrown together carbonite freezer that a petty gang abandoned, with a select few targets within. One of which entombed none other than his own kih’vod. The reason why he described it as ‘a botched job’ was that the alchemical readouts of said carbonite chamber pointed to a tainted solution: not pure in ingredients that typically secure a clean, minimally-invasive freezing process. When you start cutting corners to save costs, you compromise the effectiveness of the flashfreeze. Some sentients did not survive this treatment; though it was a blessing Din clearly did– though not before taking a unique toll. 

Typically, carbonite would blitz your vision, your extremities; make you feel like a ten-ton transport has dragged you across the Dune Sea then set you spinning through a wash cycle, expecting you to walk a few miles blindfolded as a cool down without a single misstep. 

It makes you drowsy– not lose your short-term memory. 

When Din awoke, the questions posed to him concerning what events led him to his present predicament went unanswered. Not from a place of obstinance, but complete confusion. He’s unsatisfied with himself, the frailty he feels. Being stripped of the mind stung equally as bad as if it had his body– which conveniently, was also hurting. 

He got angry, Paz said– furious as to what could have altered his head and made him feel so out-of-body. There were decent chunks of recent days, weeks he claimed he could not recall. That list grew as he couldn’t even say what his last paygrade was, what he’d done with the Guild for the last year, what had become of the covert on Nevarro. When he glanced at a darkly mirrored reflection of himself, he didn’t know how he procured the newer portions of his chromed armor. 

The bad news continued to careen out of control. He didn’t recognize the mudhorn etched on his shoulder; had to ask the Armorer why that creature was added. To her immovable surprise, she sobered at how serious this truly was. He didn’t know his Clan? Of its addition?

He didn’t..--he didn’t know the name Grogu. Never even heard of such a species. 

When shown a holopic of the kid, he simply looked at you and asked if something like that could speak- could maybe answer to what happened to him. That nearly broke you on the spot if the Armorer hadn’t ushered a still-throbbing Din to sit and receive a medical consult and diverted your attention. The whole scene was a heartbreaking one, though Vizsla spared you most of the big questions you wanted to ask by ripping off the emotional bandaids himself.

It was by Paz’s explanation that Din had been told that you were his wife, his riduur. For some strange reason, he accepted that quickly. Explained straight away why you stuck around. But in the hours and days that followed, your partner was far from the cozy and nurturing man you’ve known for so long. Even if he tolerated you, he still appeared to consider you a stranger. You knew why, and therefore didn’t blame him one bit. He was hard enough on himself for his failings on a good day. Getting himself into such a vulnerable situation and having to nurse this blasted headache everyday that barely seemed to let up would naturally only make that self-image worse.  His steps fall heavier, carrying weight unseen. 

It was clear a depression was setting in as the hard first days melted into a week. Into two. The man you loved walked through your shared home as a cold, distant shell of himself, filled to the brim with unspoken anger, confusion, guilt, and lost pain. 

While in your company every day, you led most of the talking- just about practical things. Suggestions when he lost his train of thought, simple choices, graciously avoiding the oliphant in the room by keeping topics in the moment with your usual, helpful nature. It’s your default and, so, hard to break; but for the most part, Din Djarin accepted that too with nods and hums of agreement. He poured himself into some easy reconnaissance missions and errands to try and pull himself out of the dark, but he offered very little depth of dialogue with you, claiming he’s focusing on meditation. Centering himself. 

But you knew better. Centering, introspection– that takes a different form with Din when he’s in a bad headspace. He’s hating himself, punishing: for being a disappointment, to be your problem. 

Though… oddly enough… your nighttime routine had not really changed. That’s the most bittersweet feeling of all of this. 

When it came that first night to talk about your living arrangement, he insisted that nothing change: for you to keep your bed, and he would busy himself elsewhere. But as you both just talked things through about what your next steps should be, sitting side by side against the headboard watching the nightlife stream in through the porthole of your room, your drowsiness took root, and he somehow fell asleep right beside you– as though nothing had changed. 

In the silence of morning, he didn’t speak on it; you carried about your days as before, getting by. But sure enough, when you’d catch up at the end of the day, the same sinking feeling around you would hit at the same hour, you’d lie down, wake with him having never left his side of the bed, and the cycle would repeat. 

A poignant, if painful, reminder of what connection still stood between you– and what little  comfort the universe was offering you in the midst of a horrible situation through your Mandalorian’s touch.

Still, you know it’s not the same. It’s instinctual, not intentional. You don’t cry anymore about it. You’re all sniffled out, though your throat hasn’t gotten the memo. It seizes every time he calls you by name instead of Cyar'ika. 

So here, he sleeps behind you:  seemingly none the wiser about the more amorous nights that bombarded your god-awful, precious memories. These dreams, they keep you awake at all hours of the early morning when even Din’s subconscious cries out to hold you. To allow him to sleep by your side when surely his entire world felt numb and unfamiliar? It was his blessing, and your nightly curse.

A noise, finally. A little catch, high behind your neck- a barely-there attempt to wake up. In trying, he squeezes you in, then settles with a soothed groan. Din’s nuzzling between your shoulders. The scent of your conditioner must be the only thing keeping him in such a drowsy state. On the edge of sleep, he’s still able to make you melt with his rarely-seen gentle nature. 

And despite the circumstances, you laugh at this, softly.

"What are you doing?" you ask of yourself more than him: but he answers…

"Mmmm... y'r warm.."

Now that’s your Din. That’s your Darling talking. 

It’s him… and not. 

"Djar…” you sighed with a catch in your chest, “Honey, wake up."

You’d shown him where he stowed his helmet on the shelf while you slept and that you’d never get up before him, so he didn’t feel exposed. It was torture though– you always woke up before him now and were subject to his snuggly nature: sans the intimacy you once shared by turning into each other. That wouldn’t be fair now, wouldn’t be right, even if it was what you craved the most about mornings with him. For now, you’d face away, until he was ready.

Din stirred again. His limbs gave a quivering squeeze to wakefulness. You knew it the moment he must have opened his eyes, because his breaths seized. He’s aware, then... even more aware.

"Oh,” he broke through his morning voice with a rush, “I'm so sorry-- I was just-"

"It's ok, just relax,” you threw confidence into your voice, “How’s the head?" 

“It um.. It’s ok. Kind of achey.”

“C'mon. Lay down and rest.” You’re selfish and can’t help settling in, "It's not like we have to get up yet. Paz still has the speeder, so we can stick to this side of town until he brings it back."

You held onto his wrist carefully, returning it to its lax spot between your breasts, just where it fits. You just want him lucid; even if he doesn’t hold you as tight as he used to.

After the Grogu holo incident, you couldn’t bear to ask him more about what he does or doesn’t recognize. You couldn’t bear to ask him if he remembered you, and you wouldn’t, even now. How could he, after all? If he didn’t even know the face of his own son, what chance did you have? You’d met him months after taking on his charge. Based on the gap of time Din struggled to remember, you certainly fell within that ocean of nothingness. No, you didn’t bother to ask him things of that nature. You simply accepted his companionship and moved along.

At your word, Din nests back in, presumably to get a few more minutes of sleep. But then, he  breathes in, and you sense it’s not purely therapeutic, the way he’s settled into you. He’s scooted closer, and not to readjust his posture. He’s moved your hair, and not to get it out of his face for his comfort–

He starts– kriff, he’s kissing you. Kissing you like he means it. Little pecks. Your neck, your shoulder, and– you stop him.

"D- babe,- you don't have to,” the warning lights fire off in your brain, holding his wrist firmly now.

Din mumbles more between presses, "I want to.”

"Mando, you-"

"Call me Djarin again."

The way he hushes you, so fekking softly, it sounds like him… dank ferrick. .

Stars, it’s weird. This whole thing is weird. When was this supposed to let up, a vague ‘week or two, come back for a new assessment and we will review the prognosis’? You try to hope he’s feeling more like himself after a good night’s rest, but you can’t really explain this behavior.

Your restraint now is a testament, a promise to protect him as he’s always protected you:

" You’re–” you shoot yourself in the foot and craft the words as they break your heart. “You're not yourself. I can't ignore that. I know it, even if you don't."

You’ll curse this blasted phase in the future, when everything settles and eventually goes back to normal. But this is the one time you’d ever call such tender treatment truly insufferable. He pauses in his affections,

"--No," Din then counters, gentle and curious, "I… I remember this part..."

Remember what? You’ve shown him video still after still when he asks, letting him lead his own recovery journey as he wills. You obviously do your best, but it hurts you– and you’re not so sure he doesn’t notice judging by the sweet ways he apologizes for troubling you. 

You’re sure he’s being kind. "Do you, now."

Facing the wall with empty focus, you kept your sights down, ignoring how he braced himself on one arm and attempted to turn you onto your back. You followed the give of his hand’s press on you, but not much. And of course, you still didn’t look at him. Can’t stomach him revealing himself to you when you assume he’s doing it out of duty; what’s expected of him as an unwilling, ‘newfound’ spouse.

But when he spoke again, the barest of touches skidded along your collarbones, up the neck…

"You were born with these,” Din shares with a reverence. “Here. Little Ones, from the sun. But this: this was an accident. When you were small; your skin was too new."

Your eyes honed on a red traffic light outside– the sight of it mimicked your alarm. He’s brushing a scarline– yes, from a childhood incident you told him about… months ago…

"You really can't see it unless your face turns red. Pretty sure I’ve seen that,” Din trails off, sets to brushing your cheek, “Turns white, against the curve. You get embarrassed, but I remember telling you to quit–”

"--to not worry about it." you finished as a whisper. “Din.”

‘Makes you who you are. Pretty as a picture, meshla. Think of it as a brushstroke, when the Maker was putting on the finishing touches of you.’

He knows. He does know you. He hasn’t forgotten?

Your eyes stung when you tried to blink the memory away. This makes no sense…

"I’m sorry- you remember that…” you shake in awe, “But– not?…"

Grogu?

"I know." His brow furrowed, "or.. rather, I don't."

His hand set atop your bicep– something grounding.

“I want to," he begs of you, "Truly, I want to say I feel like I’m nearly there. If only to convince you to look at me.”

You laid flat the rest of the way. Mostly so you could better hear him and not make him think you’re hiding, but also, you could now reach him more comfortably. 

Bittersweet tenderness braided you two together-- here in an unbelievable turn of events. 

You lifted your eyes to him at last. Din whispers again,

“Angel Eyes…”

The endearment makes you nearly sob. Dammit, he does remember. Relief, grief, it’s all muddy.

"I don't remember my foundling’s name.” you’re crushed at how mournful he sounds, “-which is a sin in its own right…" But he speaks with life-rendering conviction,  "But I know I told you mine. I know where we stood, which light panel on the Crest I turned off, how you- h-how you kissed me back that day.”

Your foreheads touch, the invisible string pulls you to do it. The lids of your eyes shut on contact with the ebb of a hurricane behind your eyes.

“Please use it-" Din asks of you, "-until I can remember all of the rest. Until I can remember every time I have ever told you ‘I loved you’-- and revive it, tenfold."

The tsunami's pressure strikes you down. You bury your sob down your windpipe and lunge for him– to kiss sense into him if it's the last thing you do.

And kiss, you do: for the release, for answers, for solace in an unfair time. For whatever reason, your riduur finds the same comfort, though he is desperate at the other end of the spectrum. You, in knowing a shred of him still exists and rejoicing in that; in him, grasping onto that one fact like it’s the only thing he has.

His entire energy is sad beyond belief, but he looks at you like you're his lifeline when you part. Din wets his lips- masking a tremble by how he bites it. 

"This is the only thing that feels normal. Feels right. I don't understand it…"

The shadow of his humility shines, even as he wallows in his present struggle.

"You'll get there,” you swore through tears- not all of them sad anymore. “If this is any proof, you'll get there. Won’t last forever."

You share another kiss for healing. By how his brows seem to even out, you wonder if it’s actually helping to ease the pain after all. It’s firm, longing. It’s all you have to give him.

Din looks you over as he’s in close proximity- refamiliarizing himself with every high point in your face, every contour, and gives a genuine smile. 

“Pretty sure…” he worked through the whirl of ideas behind that dreamy gaze, “... had a dream about that kid. Kept taking that– did he try to take the gear shift off the Crest? Y’know, the ball end? Think it was a toy?”

And finally: you laughed for the first time in weeks. 

“Yes, he did! It’s the one thing that survived the crash!” you burst into happy tears. “Oh my God, I can’t believe it~ see? You’re–”

"You haven't laughed. Not in days," Din interrupts– "I like it when you laugh."

You hear it once more, plain as day:

I love hearing you laugh.

–like it was yesterday…

"I know you do." you calm yourself. "Maybe one of these days, you'll remember how you bring it out of me."

He considers you, and a funny little aire of critique passes across his face.

“Something tells me that’s not hard to do. I’ll try my best,” he scrunches his perfect nose, “M’not a comedian though, fair warning. ”

“That’s ok. It’s your delivery that’s the funniest part. Munchkin thinks so,” you reminded with hope. You worded it like a question, hoping Din would visualize the instance easier if you made it sound casual. 

“Seems to favor testing me, more like– what you've told me so far.” Din trails off on his own. His brow twitches, showing his head may be pulsing, but he’s fighting through it. “Better be one to mind his manners the next time we see him. Wonder if the Jedi teach that, too.”

Understanding just how many times he'd looked your way expressionless under the guise of armor, he'd learned the benefits of using words when you came into his life and makeshift home. It was a change of perspective that was all too necessary; that he could truly speak his mind and that you would listen anytime- day or night. The way he communicated was truly poetic once he felt comfortable to release the matters of his heart through his mouth. 

So now, even when his mind has split and you were left to patiently wait out for his memories to return in full force, you'd simply hold his hand and keep the anchor set so his heartstrings could untangle themselves.

You smile despite the gap in understanding the gravity of what he'd just spoken- that Grogu was with a Jedi without hope of any visitation date that you knew of. It's still so hard without him– another pain you feel that you're shouldering alone…

“Have I said that before?" Din's flare of insecurity flared like the ebb of his headache. "I'm not making things easier by opening my damn mouth, am I…”

You sift the thoughts away, out from the forefront, "No…" you say, to ease his worry. 

You're reminded of how much he is still the same Din. The power of his gentle words and the potency of laughter: the best medicine he could take. With knowing tears lining your eyes, you answered with a massage to his temple,

“It just means more, coming from you."

Translations:

Mesh’la, cyar’ika = Beautiful, sweetheart. Ka'ra jaon'kov, cuy’gar mesh’la = Stars above, you're beautiful. B’d jate = So (good) Jatne o'r ner sur'haai = Perfect (good, superlative) in my eyes. Rejorhaa'ir ni = Tell me Ni ganar’e, cyare = I have you, my sweetheart

[justagalwhowrites]

Beskar Doll - Ch. 17: Distance

In which Din and Doll try to figure out how to navigate feelings in their own, emotionally stunted ways. A continuation of Beskar Doll Ch. 1-16 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Female Reader

Warnings: None! Whole fic is violent and smutty, minors DNI 18+ only. No use of Y/N

Length: 6.3k

Your body was still pleasantly loose when you woke up, a sweet soreness between your thighs as you more drifted back into consciousness instead of shocking into it as you usually did. You were wrapped in the Mandalorian’s cloak and the sun was fully up. It took you a moment to remember just what had happened the night before as you slowly blinked against the brightness and you found yourself alone in the grass.

“Fuck,” you groaned quietly. You’d made a damn fool of yourself, acting like an out of control teenager as Din touched you. And then you’d passed out before returning the favor. And you think you even cried a little. “Dammit.” 

You sat up, feeling almost hungover despite the fact that you could tell that you’d slept well. Your whole body was relaxed and you didn’t feel worn or tired. But the knot that was settling in your stomach was sour. What had you done? What if you’d ruined it all again? 

But he’s the one who started it. He’d touched you, controlled your body, gave you commands you’d been happy to bow to as he expertly pulled pleasure from you over and over. Why would he have done that if he hadn’t wanted to? Maybe just to prove that he could? And where the hell was he, anyway? 

You ran your fingers through your tangled hair, trying to tame the knots as you tightened the cloak around yourself. You pressed your face into it. It smelled a little like him, though not as much as you’d have hoped. But then, the armor was always there, keeping the most intimate things about him hidden away, even his smell. Meanwhile, it felt like you were always exposed and he knew exactly where to look and how to read you. 

You got up slowly, cracking your neck and you looked around, about to call out to try to find him when he came down the ramp to the Razor Crest, the child in hand. 

“Well if I could trust you to stay out of trouble,” he was saying, the kid gazing up at him adoringly. He stopped when he saw you standing there, his cloak drawn tightly around you. 

“Hey,” you said, trying to stand up straight and not look vulnerable or embarrassed. You weren’t sure if you were pulling it off. You unwound the cloak and held it out to him. “Thanks. For this.” 

“Sure,” he said, closing the distance between you and setting the baby in the grass before taking it from you. “I hope you slept well.” 

“Yeah,” you said, part of you wishing the ground would just open and swallow you whole because it would be better than feeling this uncomfortably exposed. “You?” 

“You’re the one who’s starting training today,” he replied, putting the cloak on and crossing his arms. “How I slept doesn’t really matter. Eat something, we’ll get going.” 

“We?” You frowned. He started for the part of the Razor Crest he’d been working on the day before and you followed. 

“Yes,” he replied, not looking at you, just pulling a panel off the side of the ship. “You’re still recovering. You can train but I’m supervising. You’ll push yourself too hard and fry the cybernetics if someone doesn’t rein you in.” 

“I know how to train, Mando,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “I did it for years.” 

“Not starting from scratch you didn’t,” he replied. “And not after recovering from an injury like that. You almost died, Doll, almost lost the use of most of your body. You need help. Accept it.” 

“No.” 

“That’s unfortunate,” he replied, reaching into the panel. “Because you can either accept me helping you or try to train while watching your back because I’ll be tracking you the whole time to make sure you don’t hurt yourself. Those are your options, pick one.” 

“Do you try to be infuriating or does that happen on accident?” 

He shrugged. 

“Fine,” you snapped. “It can be ‘we.’ But you have to keep your mouth shut about how incapable I am right now.” 

“I’m not going to make fun of you, Doll.” 

He said it earnestly, an openness to his tone you weren’t really used to. 

“Good,” you said, your voice not quite as sharp. “I’ll just… go get ready then.” 

You took a few steps and turned back to him. 

“Are we just not going to talk about…” 

“Yeah,” he cut you off. You nodded once. 

“OK.” 

You went into the ship and grabbed some of the meat from the night before and a handful of berries. At least this time hadn’t seemed to break everything. It was just going to return to business as usual. Honestly, a slightly nicer version of business as usual. You could live with that. It’d be hard to pretend like the Mandalorian hadn’t just made you cum until your body was basically a pile of plasma and you couldn’t move but you could do that. You were willing to do quite a bit, you realized, to have him tolerate you. 

“Well that bodes well,” you muttered to yourself, chugging some water before braiding your hair tightly against your skull and getting changed, happy the clothes you’d bought on Garqi were made for physical work. It wasn’t as good as the few things you had left from Naboo, they didn’t move with you the same way, but they fit and were a lot better than the alternatives. 

When you came down the ramp again, carrying water and your knife tucked in your pocket, the Mandalorian had closed the panel on the ship again and strapped the kid to his back with the backpack. The baby squealed happily when he saw you, clapping his little hands together in glee. 

“Well hi there,” you smiled, coming up and poking his little nose. He was level with your head from his spot on the Mandalorian’s back and he frowned a little, inspecting your hair. You drew his eyes to yours. He was confused. 

“It’s all still there,” you said, turning your head to show him the rest. “It’s just back.” 

“What are you two doing back there?” Mando asked, looking over his shoulder. 

“He doesn’t understand how hair works,” you replied, still smiling at the kid. You pulled your braid forward and held the end of it out to him. He took it, his fingers exploring the end of it before putting it in his mouth. You tried to not laugh when he frowned and took it out again. “He’s around you too much. I don’t think he understands that it can change shape and size quite a bit, he’s puzzling it out.” 

Din snorted and you smiled. The kid’s eyes met yours. Still curious but more satisfied and content now. You gave his little forehead a kiss before going to stand next to the Mandalorian. 

“So,” you glanced up at him, arms crossed. “You’re the drill sergeant. Do you want to tell me what to do or am I allowed to decide for myself?” 

“What do you usually start with?” He asked, looking down at you. 

“When I was at my peak condition?” You asked. He nodded. “I’d run at least five clicks a day to start, sometimes up to 15, do some strength training, some hand-to-hand with someone if I could or at the very least do some staff or knife work. Target shoot a few times a week. Regular obstacle work.” 

He nodded once. 

“Why don’t we see how you do running one click,” he said. “We can go from there.” 

You nodded once, an anxious ball settling in you. You were out of practice and your body was  still recovering. This could easily be a shit show. You stretched a bit and jumped in place, warming up your limbs. 

“Ready?” He asked. Actually asked. That was disorienting. You nodded. “Let’s go. You set the pace.” 

You started off, heading toward the woods, taking it at a pace that felt almost exceedingly slow but you could already feel in your body. Your lungs were working harder than they had in a while. You could feel the blood in your limbs, the rush of it through your veins as your heart picked up. The woods were cool, morning dew still on the air where it had been protected by the shade of the trees. It smelled clean, a bit like home on Naboo or the woods on Alderaan where you’d played as a girl, the feeling of racing through trees and running for the sake of moving your body instead of out of fear or necessity comforting. It had been a long time since you’d moved like this but it was like coming home. 

“How are you feeling?” The Mandalorian didn’t even sound winded. Show off. 

“Good,” you said over your shoulder, panting a bit. 

“OK,” he said, “Let’s go for two.” 

You smiled. You hadn’t realized you’d gone one click already. Maybe this wasn’t going to be a total loss then. You picked up the pace a bit, pushing yourself a bit harder, watching for roots along the forest floor. It didn’t feel like you’d been going for very long, your lungs burning, when he spoke again. 

“Turn back, Doll,” he said. “Don’t push it.” 

You considered fighting with him - you felt like you could go further - but decided against it. He was being uncommonly nice. Why spoil it? 

You found a tree that looked like it made sense to loop around and you did, the beskar-clad man following close behind. The baby caught a glimpse of you as you went past and he smiled, his arms up, his eyes meeting yours. Pure joy. You smiled. 

You decided to push yourself harder the second half, your heart thudding in your chest, lungs filling almost painfully with every breath. You centered yourself for a moment before digging in and launching yourself forward, going faster, your legs burning. 

“Doll,” he cautioned behind you. You ignored him, pumping your legs and arms faster and harder, racing along the ground, the scent of the forest filling you, the sound of your blood in your ears and the life of the planet around you. Trees whipped past you, the forest blurring fiercely, the brightness of the field ahead breaking through the trees. 

You burst into the sunlight, squinting against it as you focused and pushed your body to sprint to the Razor Crest, the ground flying away beneath your feet. It felt reckless, a bit out of control, like you knew if you tripped you’d go flying with no hope of slowing yourself down first but you didn’t care. It felt too good to slow down. You almost skidded to a stop at the Crest before flopping on the ground, arms spread wide in the cool, soft grass. Din came to a stop beside you, looking down with his head cocked to the side. He was breathing heavily and you couldn’t help but smile a bit. At least you’d gotten his heart rate up. 

“Have fun?” He asked, hands on his hips.

“Yeah,” you panted. 

“Good,” he said. “Ready to strength train?” 

You nodded and he held a hand out to you and you took it, pulling you to your feet. He turned you around in front of him and you frowned. 

“I need to check your implants first,” he said. Your face got hot, remembering the night before. You shook your head once, sharply. You were pretending that hadn’t happened. His hand appeared over your shoulder, bare, holding a glove. You stared at it for a moment, trying to not gape at his naked skin. Golden tan, smooth, you wanted to run your fingers over him, lace them with his, press your lips into his palm. 

“Hold that,” he said. You obeyed, taking the glove and using the opportunity to have your fingers brush his. It was like you’d been hit with the damn electrostaff again, a shock running through you where you skin touched. He didn’t seem to notice. 

He raised your shirt and ran his fingers up your spine, stopping in the middle and pressing in further. 

“Does that hurt?” He asked. His voice was dark, heavy. 

“No,” you swallowed. His fingers ran further up your back, between your shoulder blades and back down before he took his hand back. 

“Good,” he said, tone more normal. “The implants are a bit warm but nothing alarming. If it starts to hurt, Doll, stop.” 

“OK,” you said. You didn’t sound as normal as him. His hand appeared over your shoulder again. You remember how it had felt on your breasts, your mouth, your hair… you swallowed hard and gave him the glove. You turned back to face him, crossing your arms over your chest as though that would make a damn difference. “Anything off limits on the strength training? Or are you just going to snap at me if I cross an imaginary line?” 

He pulled the glove back on, shaking his head a bit at you. 

“Do what you think will work for you,” he said. His voice was totally normal. How could he just act normal after last night? Why were you the only one stuck hauling feelings around? “I’ll check in periodically but stay out if your way.” 

You stretched a bit, trying to pretend six-something-feet of armor wasn’t watching you like you were a quarry he was hunting, and tried to fall into a lighter version of what you used to do. You had to cut almost everything short, not able to do as many push ups or pull ups as you remembered doing before, eventually collapsing on the ground, dripping in sweat. You stayed there for a minute, panting for breath, when the Mandalorian appeared over you, blotting out the sun. 

“I feel like you’re enjoying this,” you glared at him. He shrugged. “Is it because you want something to hold against me or because you like saying ‘I told you so.’” 

“More the latter.” 

“Great.” 

“We’ll skip the fighting today,” he said, offering you a hand up. You took it, not bothering to protest the change in plans. You’d lose to Din in seconds in your current state. “But you can still shoot.” 

He pulled you up and you nodded. 

“That I can.” 

***

He had to hand it to you, he was impressed. He’d never had a chance to see you work like this before - though he had an idea that you practiced when he wasn’t around when you’d been aboard the Razor Crest years earlier. You were still stronger than you looked - though you got progressively more frustrated the longer you worked - and you were clearly comfortable pushing your body. He suggested shooting almost as much to slow you down and keep you from getting hurt without upsetting you as it was because he wanted you to learn. 

He left you leaning against the ship, drinking water while he put the kid in the pod and slung his rifle on his arm. He managed to make it down the ramp without catching your attention, your eyes closed as you leaned your head back against the ship, breathing deeply. His eyes drifted to your breasts, remembering how the felt in his hands as your back arched into him. He ground his teeth. He needed to stop this. 

“Come on,” he said. “We’re going up.” 

You followed obediently behind him - still odd, having you actually listen - to the ladder to the top of the Crest. 

“You first,” he said, jerking his head up. He waited to need to boost you to grab the first rung of the ladder, but you jumped and caught it, smoothly pulling yourself up and climbing easily to the top of the ship. He followed, trying to not look up to see just how well your pants cupped you on the way up. 

On top of the ship, he left the kid in the pod and handed him the silver ball he’d become so obsessed with, his little face lighting up. He watched him play with it for a moment, totally absorbed, before going to the edge of the ship that faced the forest. You were standing there, your face turned to the sun, smiling in it. Looked like you still liked to be up high. You sensed him beside you, opening your eyes and looking at him. 

“Know anything about distance shooting?” He asked. 

“No,” you shook your head. “250 meters is about my limit.” 

He slung the rifle down and held it up. 

“With the right tools, it’ll be better,” he said. “This is an Amban sniper rifle.”

You frowned. 

“Aren’t disrupters illegal?” 

He shrugged. 

“It works so I don’t really care,” he said. “We’ll get you a more acceptable one if you handle this one well. One that doesn’t disintegrate.” 

“Appreciate that.” 

“Since you’re already good with a blaster, you’re a step ahead,” he said. “Your fundamentals have to be solid when you’re shooting 1000 meters away. Small errors that wouldn’t do much at close range will ruin your shot here. You need to be still when shooting, your breathing has to be right and you have to be in the right firing position otherwise your shot will be fucked.” 

He nodded to the ship. 

“Get on your stomach.” 

You obeyed and he got down next to you, rifle in hand. 

“When you line up, your back needs to be straight out behind the rifle,” he said. You frowned at him. “What?” 

“Am I going to have time to think about all this if I need to be shooting this far out?” Your eyebrows scrunched together. “I’m kind of a ‘shoot the biggest threat and keep going’ kind of person, I’ve never been able to set anything up like that…” 

“If you’re giving me long distance cover, it will be part of a plan, Doll,” he said. “You’ll have plenty of time to get set.” You looked skeptical but you were back to listening. “You’re small, having the right position is good. This rifle has some kick, if you’re squared up it will exit your legs equally and your movement will be minimal.” 

You adjusted how you were laying and he looked down at you before nodding once. 

“This rifle is mine, so it won’t fit you well,” he said, handing it over to you. “But it will work for now. Set it so you can pull the trigger without disturbing the sights.” 

You took it, lining it up with your body, testing it out. He liked watching you with his rifle. It was obvious that you knew your way around a weapon, already treating it like an extension of yourself, feeling how it fit into your body.

“I think I have it,” you said, glancing over to him. 

“Nearly,” he said, moving in closer to you, his body pressing lightly into yours. He gently nudged your head until your cheek was pressed against the rifle. “You’ll need to be that close to it.” 

“OK,” you said, sounding a little breathless. 

“Take a few deep breaths,” he said, trying to ignore just how close you were to him and failing. “Find your natural point of aim. Then set your sights. At this distance, there will be some bolt drop, too much for you to eyeball. The scope will help. Aim for that tree, the shorter one, at the tree line straight out.” 

You nodded once, cautiously making adjustments to the scope. 

“Got it?” 

“Yeah.” 

He adjusted his helmet, sighting the tree. 

“When you’re ready.” 

You took a deep breath in and slowly let it out before pulling the trigger. He watched as the bolt glanced off the side of the tree, charring the edge. 

“Shit,” you muttered. 

“No, you did well,” he said, switching back to regular sights to watch you. “Try it again.” 

You nodded once before breathing in and out a few times and pulling the trigger. You hit the tree this time, but far from at its center. 

“You’re not at your natural point of aim,” he said. “You’re moving a bit, just before you fire. Close your eyes, breathe deep and relax. Then open them and resight.” 

You nodded slightly before obeying. He watched you, your eyes closed, your jaw tight at first, but you gradually relaxed. It spread through your body, your shoulders dropping a bit, your face softening. He resisted the urge to touch you. You opened your eyes and adjusted the sight before taking the shot. It hit, dead center. 

“Hell yeah,” you smiled. 

“Good,” he said. “Now do it again. Another shot, within an inch.” 

You repeated the process and hit in the same spot. 

“Again.” 

You obeyed, even faster this time. 

“Tree to the left.” 

You adjusted the rifle and shot, hitting the target just off center. 

“Hit it right, Doll.” 

You shot him a glare before you adjusted and fired again. Dead center this time. 

“Next tree left.” 

You adjusted and hit it right in the middle.

“Again.” 

You got the shot off in record time this time, clustering it right beside the last one. Din nodded once. 

“Tree to the right of the first.” 

You threw him another glare but adjusted the rifle quickly, hitting to the side again. 

“Dank farrik,” you muttered. Din was about to tell you to try again but you cut him off. “Again, I know.” 

You adjusted your shot quickly, hitting dead on this time. 

“Next right.” 

He put you through your paces. He’d been right. You were an incredibly quick study, the fact that you’d been training almost your entire life obvious. 

You were more like him than he really wanted to admit. You’d both dedicated your lives to something as children, studied and worked and fought for things you’d been dropped into believing. He’d been brought up to be a warrior, you’d spent your life expecting to die for someone else. But war was over, his people were decimated and you had survived. What were either of you supposed to do now. 

After hitting another tree dead center on the first try, he looked over at you. 

“Good work,” he said. You gave him an almost smug half smile. “What?” 

“You were impressed,” you said, sitting up and handing him his rifle.

“I didn’t say that,” he replied. 

“But you were.” 

He sighed. “I was.” 

You smirked. 

“Knew it.” 

He shook his head, getting up and slinging the rifle over his back and heading for the ladder down, looking back to you. 

“I’m going to stay up here for a bit,” you shrugged. “I haven’t been able to climb in a while… I’ve missed it.” 

Din hesitated for a moment before giving you a nod and descending the ladder, the kid’s pod floating beside him. He was strangely anxious, leaving you where he couldn’t easily see you. Not that there was much trouble to be found on this planet and he knew exactly where you were, but he had a nervous energy all the same. 

He was still trying to figure out what the hell to do with you. He decided to clean his weapons, give himself something to do with his hands, to distract him. For a long time, he thought that, if he ever saw you again, it would be easier. 

There was a space you occupied in his mind that would get better if you were close, he’d thought. That, as it turned out, wasn’t the case. Yes, he wasn’t wondering where you were or what you were doing anymore, that was true. But instead of focusing on something - anything - besides you, he shifted to trying to read you. Understand you, learn you, untangle your concerns. Truly, really know you. And there was the part of him that seemed to want to do nothing but picture you naked. 

The kid tapped the ball on his pod, making Din look up from his work. He squeaked, looking up, pouting a bit. 

“We’re giving her space,” he said. He tapped the ball again, looking frustrated. Din sighed. “No.” Tap, tap, tap. “Kid, she’s not going to be with us forever. She can’t be. Don’t get too attached.” 

His ears drooped and he flopped back in his pod. Din sighed again. He needed to take his own damn advice. He straightened himself, almost subconsciously, like it would strengthen his resolve. He was not going to touch you again. He was going to find some distance, break out of your orbit. He had to. 

To your credit, you picked up on it quickly. He hated watching it happen, seeing you retreat into yourself. He made a point to not be cruel, just cold. It only took the rest of the day for you to pull back, too. You slept inside the ship that night. 

The next day, you told him you were going to train, waiting only a second to see if he would stop you or try to come. He shrugged, continuing work on the Razor Crest. But he noted your path to the forest with his helmet, ready to track you if you weren’t back when he expected. You borrowed his rifle in the afternoon to practice shooting. He watched from the ground as you hit almost every target, your speed and accuracy increasing. 

After a few days of near silence, you approached him after your run. 

“I need combat practice,” you said bluntly. You were still breathing heavily and his eyes kept drifting to your breasts, remembering how you felt. “Spar with me.” 

He was silent for a moment. 

“No.” 

“What?” You demanded. “Why not?” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he replied, going back to working on the ship. You scoffed. 

“You should be more worried about me hurting you.” 

“Trust me, Doll,” he looked back to you. “That’s the least of my concerns.” 

“Well, I know you won’t hurt me,” you crossed your arms and planted your feet. “So let’s go. I’ve never fought a Mandalorian. I’m curious.” 

“I’m not going to throw a punch at you,” he replied. 

“Trust me, you’d miss,” you rolled your eyes. He glared at you and he could tell you felt it. “Look, I want to be ready for when we leave here, OK? I can either practice with you or end up in a fight when I haven’t done much in years and find out then how little I still know. What sounds better to you.” 

He sighed, dropping his tools. 

“Fine,” he said. “No weapons. And if I say stop, we stop. Immediately.” 

“If you’re that worried I’m going to kick your ass…” 

“I’m serious, Doll,” he snapped. 

“Fine,” you held your hands up in mock surrender and rolled your eyes. 

“Tonight,” he said. “After the kid’s in bed.” 

You frowned. 

“Why?” 

“Because,” he said. “He sees us fighting, he might not understand it’s fake. I don’t want him hurting you.” You raised your eyebrows. “It’s happened before.” 

You sighed. 

“Fine. Tonight, once the kid is down.” 

He went back to work, feeling your eyes on him for another moment before you stalked off again. He hated letting you leave. But he had to get used to it. 

The kid fell asleep on you after the sun set, something he’d been doing more often than not it seemed. You seemed happy to keep a hand on his back, your thumb lightly stroking the back of his head until he passed out against you. 

“You owe me a brawl, Mando,” you said, looking over to him, your hand still on the baby. 

“You’re sure,” he said, hoping that stalling would have given you time to change your mind. You just nodded. He sighed. “Fine, let me put him inside. I meant what I said…” 

“I know,” you cut him off. “If you say stop, we stop.” 

He carefully lifted the kid off of you and put him in his pod before bringing him aboard the ship. You were stretching when he came back out, still hoping you’d have given up on the idea. But you were stuck on it. He sighed and started removing his beskar. 

“What are you doing?” You were frowning, frozen mid stretch. 

“If you hit the armor, you’re going to hurt yourself,” he replied. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you dropped your arm and put your hands on your hips. “Put the damn armor back on, Din.” 

“No,” he said, removing it piece by piece. “I can take a punch, Doll. You’re not breaking your fingers on my beskar.” 

You ground your teeth. 

“You can always back out,” he shrugged, setting a pauldron on the ground. 

“Stop trying to talk me out of it,” you snapped. “I need to get better and I’m asking for your help. I’d ask someone else but my options here are limited. So please, Mando, let me practice fighting you so I don’t get my ass kicked by some bail jumper, OK?” 

He set the last piece of beskar on the ground, leaving him in just the flight suit and helmet. Your eyes ran over him, up and down, slowly. It somehow made him feel more exposed than taking off the armor had, your gaze more dangerous than anything hitting him could be. 

Din stepped away from the fire and the ship, into more open space and you followed, watching him cautiously. He set himself into a fighting stance, his fists raised. 

“If I hurt you,” he said. “Say something. Don’t try to tough it out.” 

“I can take a hit, Mando,” you rolled your eyes, stopping a few feet away from him and raising your hands, too. 

“You’re the one who wants to spar, Doll,” he said. “So you have to start this.” 

You narrowed your eyes and your stance changed ever so slightly, analyzing him for a moment before you came for him. You were smart, feigning going for his head. When he moved to block you, you side stepped it, going low and ducking below his arm, bringing your body into his and slamming your knee into his stomach. He grabbed your torso but you’d wrapped your arm around his side already, ramming into him with your elbow before bringing the leg you’d hit his stomach with down and around his ankle, yanking it out from below him and using your weight to knock him off balance, sending him down onto his back, forcing him into the ground with a grunt. 

“You have to actually try, Mando,” you griped, pushing off the ground and getting to your feet. 

“I don’t think you need to worry about bail jumpers, Doll,” he said. 

“I will need to worry about people who will actually try to hit me,” you said, positioning yourself again. “So do it.” 

He looked you up and down, trying to look at you like he would an opponent. It felt unnatural, looking for where you were weakest. Your size would be the first thing he should leverage. You were smaller and weaker, overpowering you should be simple. You didn’t have the muscle he did to protect your kidneys or liver, hits there would do solid damage. 

He considered asking if you were ready but decided against it, just coming for you. He swung for you and you sidestepped him, grabbing his fist and trying to twist his arm. It was a move he imagined had worked for you in the past, but you didn’t have the strength or the weight to pull it off now. Instead, it exposed your torso and he swung, landing a pulled punch at your side with his other hand, just below your ribs. You grunted at the hit, some of the air getting knocked out of you. But instead of stopping or slowing, you used the hold you had on his arm to swing yourself down and back, going behind him. He spun to follow you but not before you landed a hit to his kidney at his back. He caught your next punch, twisting your arm back and you head butted him in the stomach, just below his rib cage. Din caught your head with his other arm, holding your face to his chest and knocking your feet out from under you, bringing you down to the ground on your stomach, leaving you panting for breath. 

Watching you fight was oddly beautiful. He wanted to just admire it, admire you. The confidence and knowledge in the way you moved, the way your mind and body worked in perfect harmony to do what was necessary. It was art, especially to a Mandalorian. If he wasn’t perpetually worried about your safety, he’d want to watch you work, see what you would do with an enemy as your canvas.

“You OK?” He asked, his hands still on you. 

“Fine,” you said. He released you and you rolled onto your back before he helped you up. “Let’s go again.” 

“No,” he shook his head, walking back toward the ship. 

“You said you would,” you protested, following close behind him, still breathing heavily. “I’ve had way worse than that, come on Mando, let’s go again. 

“I know you have,” he snapped, turning to face you. “And I don’t want to hit you, so we’re done.” 

“I need to know that I can protect your kid, Din,” you said, voice calm. “He’s vulnerable. Imps are after him. Even if I were just watching him on the ship, I need to know I can keep him safe. He’s too important.” 

He searched your face, the cool detachment you usually wore missing. You were afraid. Of not being able to keep up, to save someone who needed saving. 

“Please,” you said again, voice so soft he could barely hear it over the crackle of the fire. 

“Fine,” he said, stalking back to the open space. You followed. 

“Don’t pull your punches this time,” you said, raising your fists. “Push as fast and hard as you would if I were a quarry. It’s OK if it hurts.” 

“Doll…” 

“I fucking mean it, Mando,” you snapped. “Hit me.” 

He ground his teeth before going for you. 

You’d started to learn his movements, could read what was coming next. You dodged him, his blows glancing off you instead of fully catching, your counter punches finding their targets at first before he learned your movements, too. Things devolved, just blocking each other’s shots, adjusting, trying moves that were dirtier to see what would land. 

Eventually, he caught you just enough off guard to knock you down. Before he had the chance to ask if you were OK, you swept his legs out from underneath him, sending him down, his helmet smacking into the ground. 

“You’re good,” you were panting for breath, your head turned to face him. “If you were armored, I wouldn’t stand a chance.” 

“You did well, Doll,” he said, letting himself relax into the ground for a moment. “The kid will be in good hands with you.” 

“Good,” you smiled a little, the movement changing the light on your face just enough that the firelight caught the glistening scrape on your cheek. Din rolled onto his side, yanking his glove off and reaching for your face, touching your cheek delicately.

“I hurt you,” he said softly, his thumb stroking your cheek. 

“It’s just a scratch,” you rolled your eyes. “Nothing to worry about.”  

It took him a moment to realize what he’d done. He’d hurt you and there was proof of it. And he was touching you. His skin was against yours, you were warm and soft beneath him, so close he could pull you against him in a second. His armor was gone, he’d be able to feel you more this way… 

You picked up his hand from your face, setting it back against him. 

“I can’t do this with you Din,” you said softly.

“Doll,” he breathed, but you cut him off. 

“I can’t,” you said. “I don’t think you understand what the last five years - hell, the last few months - has been for me. I survived a war I never thought I’d live through but I lost everything. I’m trying to navigate a life I never planned to have. I lost my home, my brothers, my friends, my identity, my purpose - all to the Empire. I tried to start over and I lost that, too. I lost my parents. I tried to start over again and the only person I knew there, the person who was supposed to help me survive it tried to kill me and now he’s dead, too. 

“There is one person in this entire fucking galaxy who knows who I am, that I’m alive at all, and he can’t seem to decide if he wants to fuck me or keep me as far away as he possibly can. I can’t do it, I can’t handle you touching me and holding me and making me feel something one minute and ignoring me the next. I’d rather you hate me, Din, because that’s something. I can’t handle the indifference from you. I can’t be invisible, not to you. Please don’t make me.” 

It was like there was something screaming inside him, something fighting to burst out of him, to tell you everything, to pull you against him and hold you there, touch you, feel you. 

He didn’t do any of those things. 

“Thanks for the practice,” you smiled tightly, sadly. “I’m going to bed.” 

You got up and went to the ship and Din rolled onto his back as the firelight dimmed, trying to convince himself that he was doing the right thing.

[hapan-in-exile]

Volume 4 - Post #5: Wish You Were Here [M]

Another installment in this ongoing serialized fanfic

GIF by kpfun

Genre: Mandalorian x Fem! Reader

Total word count: 3.8K (fifth post in Volume 4)

Rating: Explicit - smut, language, +18 *NSFW*

_______________________________

V. Blessed Mother, grant me the clarity of wisdom! You are currently facing one of life’s most consistent yet challenging dilemmas. It’s the tension between two competing impulses. Your deeply ingrained sense of practicality versus how fucking horny you feel right now. 

Should you drop everything and immediately head for the Razor Crest? This hour of the day is undoubtedly your best chance to sneak out while everyone’s still asleep and reunite with your favorite family in the galaxy before anyone notices what you’re up to. 

Or do you yield to vanity? This option means time to wash your hair, put on a little makeup, and dig through Humia’s clothes for something that doesn’t make you look like a sack of potatoes. It’s a waste of daylight, but after eighteen days apart, you’d like to remind the Mandalorian what an absolute smoke show he’s been missing. 

Like, maybe he would sigh very profoundly, so overcome with emotion at the mere sight of you? Okay, sure—it’s Mando—he’s not going to run across a meadow to sweep you up in his arms. But if he gasped your name longingly while threading his fingers through your hair, it would do a lot for your self-esteem.  

All gods divine and merciful, you are levitating with excitement! He’s back, you clasp your hands to your heart. He’s back. He’s back. He’s back. You occupy the same atmosphere. There’s a buoyancy, lifting every footstep as you practically skip up to your front door, throwing it open as though about to burst into song.  

“Oh shit!” Upon entering the hut, you see Serenio enfolded in Davik’s arms. Their foreheads are pressed together, with his long black curls spilling over her lekku. They immediately spring apart like lovelorn teenagers. Which, you recall, they are at seventeen and nineteen, respectively.  

You look between them, watching as they struggle to suppress their ragged breathing. Guess their fake romance isn’t so fake anymore. Maybe Serenio wouldn’t mind getting stuffed into a cleaning cart with Davik? 

Damnit, this was going to make everyone’s sleeping arrangements infinitely more awkward. The hut is comprised of a single room. And while there are some partitions....you, Humia, Davik, and Serenio all sleep feet apart from each other on the floor every night. 

Shit, really? Well, at least romance is working out for someone. It’s sweet. Young love. You’re happy for them. Truly. Did this create a needless distraction? Absolutely. But who are you to judge? You’re about to hike an hour through the woods in the hopes of fucking your boss.

“Want to train with us?” Serenio signs before awkwardly busying herself with rearranging the furniture. 

That’s right! Humia had forbidden them from entering the fighting pits.

TaggeCo employees loved to haunt the encampment’s cantinas and drinking halls. Sometimes, management brought in musical performances for cultural enrichment, but let’s be real—the Lakarani are the true source of entertainment around here.

You have to agree with Humia. It’s far too risky. One of those Tagge corpos might recognize Serenio while she kicked the shit out of someone twice her size and begin to wonder just where their cleaning lady learned to land a punch like that. 

I guess the obvious solution is turning our living room into a training gym?  

“Yeah, you should spar with us, Kas,” Davik agrees. He’s completely serious, despite being so flustered you can see his brown cheeks visibly blushing. “We were just making some room.”

They’d already changed out of their TaggeCo uniforms. Davik is dressed for movement, and Serenio has her knuckles wrapped. 

They both practically vibrate with restless energy. Although, that could simply be a side effect of all this latent sexual tension. Do warriors consider sparring a kind of foreplay?

You’ve got to get out of here before you completely kill the mood. 

“Hmm,” the corners of your mouth tug. “Thanks, but no,” you sign, shifting so that Serenio can read your lips. “I don’t spar.” 

“Ubaa said you were a veteran. What kind of soldier doesn’t train?” Davik seems genuinely confused. “You work through all those fighting stances every morning.”

“I do meditative poses for my blood pressure, Davik. Believe me, hand-to-hand combat skills are not what I’m bringing to this operation.”

“What about self-defense? I can train you. You’re surprisingly strong. I’ve seen you carrying laundry from the wash house,” he says appraisingly. Then, a look of horror crosses his face. “Not that I’m watching—”

“I’m going for a walk,” you sign. “Need a bath.” 

What follows is quite possibly the most awkward silence you’ve ever endured as they both study your every movement, packing toiletries and spare clothing, determinedly not looking at each other. 

“Hey!” a thought occurs to you. “Humia says there’s a bonfire down at the jetty tonight for Honatoka. It sounds like fun. We have the night off. You guys should come.”

At that, they exchange a glance, faces flushed.

“Yeah,” Davik nods. “Do…you want to go?” he signs, asking Serenio.

“Okay,” she shrugs, breaking into a wide smile.

And that’s your good deed for the day! You’ll just have to be mindful to knock very loudly before opening the front door from now on.

**********

It’s true—you’re stronger than you look. Novitiate discipline in the palace temple helped you develop a lot of muscle mass at an early age. For whatever reason, monastic life seems to require climbing an ungodly amount of stairs regardless of which religion you serve. 

That being said, you’re a far cry from elite bounty hunter. Davik might have a point about strength training. By the time you’ve climbed the pine tree and made it over the perimeter wall, you’ve got both hands on your knees, panting for breath. 

It’s a lot of effort to avoid passing through the main gate, but you can’t shake the feeling of paranoia as you set out to meet with your co-conspirators. Best to avoid any questions about where you’re headed.

When word of Emperor Palpatine’s death reached the Metatessu sector, Lakarani independence fighters did not wait for Imperials to develop an exit strategy. They immediately seized all the military outposts, along with the mining operations and refinery. Without available reinforcements to take back control of the planet, Imperial forces abandoned Lakaran.  

While fighters had expelled the Empire, they did not succeed in keeping Lakaran free from foreign influence. The planet was now considered part of Hutt Space, and Yarella the Hutt leased Larakan’s mining rights and coaxium production to the Tagge Corporation. 

But their siege and occupation of the refinery against Imperial forces was the stuff of legends. Literally—images of the martyred fighters could be found in every home, along with altars dedicated to the fallen. 

It’s why the Tagge family made sure to invest in a robust security infrastructure when they took over. 

So, another convenient feature of the retaining wall they’d built around the encampment to prevent mudslides is that it created limited access points in and out of the camp. These gates could be barricaded if necessary, sealing everyone inside. Drones and satellites monitored the area from overhead. 

All in the name of safety. If someone working at the plant was exposed to radioactive material, Tagge Corp claimed they would need to track the population for containment. Of course, all you had to do was look at the river to know the Tagge Corporation didn’t give a fuck about contaminating people with toxic materials. 

The transponder on your wrist tracks everywhere you go. All they had to do was locate your signal, and a team of TaggeCo security could show up at your door and drag you off under the pretext of “containment.”

Tampering with the device was a fireable offense. If you wanted work, you submitted to their surveillance. 

It wasn’t so much that your movements were scrutinized, but they did get documented, which could cause trouble for you later if TaggeCo got suspicious. They might start to wonder why you went hiking through the woods before dawn, who you were meeting with, and a lot of other dangerous questions. 

In a stroke of luck (and probably his dick), the security guard Humia was sleeping with had shown her how to mask the transponder’s signal without damaging it. Still, vigilance costs nothing. You’ve packed your rucksack and draped a towel over your shoulders. If anyone sees you…hopefully, they’ll assume you’re visiting the hot springs nearby. 

Coordinates popping up on your communicator showed the Razor Crest’s location about two leagues northeast of the refinery. 

Again, just terrible bounty hunter skills—you have no idea how to read a topographic map and are forced to backtrack more times than you’re comfortable admitting. How did Mando do this without walking in circles? 

Eventually, you give up trying to navigate the map and just climb the highest tree you can find to look out over the valley. 

There she is! You spot Razoria—which is what Nito called the ship when he needed her to cooperate—settled under a rocky outcrop amidst a shallow marsh at the edge of an alpine lake. You’d been so caught up thinking about Mando and the kids, you’re surprised by the overwhelming sense of relief that wells up inside you just looking at the ship. 

For the first time since you boarded the shuttle for Lakaran you feel…safe. When did you start to think of the Razor Crest as home? 

These weeks on Lakaran might be the longest you’ve been in one place since you stepped onboard the Crest. Wanderlust had been the most enticing part of Nito’s pitch to join them, shuffling the Child across the galaxy. You’ve already seen more star systems in the past five months than your seven-year career in the military. And every night, you slept on board this gorgeous clunker. 

With each new planet, a voice would emerge from your subconscious telling you to make a run for it. Now, the voice would say. Run now before it’s too late. But you’d grown so tired of running away. You wanted to run toward something. And you did—you are—running home to this new family of yours.

The Crest had good cover under the rock and surrounding treeline, but her hull gleamed brightly in the early morning light. While TaggeCo didn’t patrol this far into the mountains, drones or satellites might pick up the glare. The Mandalorian should have some camouflage netting in storage. Tree branches would do the rest.

Nito and the kid are stretched out in the sunshine, lounging on the shore of the lake. As soon as he notices your approach, the Ardennian launches into a gallop. 

“Thuli!” He wraps all four arms around you in a fierce hug. 

You drop to your knees to join his embrace. On the shore, you see the kid waving his hands excitedly.

“Hey, little man!” You lift him up and place him on your hip. “Did you miss me?” 

The Child slowly blinks those enormous brown eyes and rests his downy head against your chest. Your heart melts a little when he gurgles contentedly. 

It felt so good to be back together again. All that’s missing is… 

“Mando’s not here,” Nito says, catching you searching for him. “After we landed, he headed straight for Yarella’s castle in Palmal.”

“Yarella’s…?”

As an added precaution, you’d boarded the shuttle to Lakaran directly from Daiyu in case anyone from the Tagge Corporation followed up on you. While Humia had been rude and irritable when she met you at Palmal Spaceport, you were deeply grateful for her presence at your side. 

In ten years of travel, you’ve never seen a city less organized. Palmal was carved deep into the mountainside. Its warren-like sprawl of metallic buildings and tubular walkways made it impossible to see ahead in any direction.

Each step felt claustrophobic and dangerous. Which it is! With all the twisting paths and sharp turns, the city’s layout was an ideal hunting ground for bandits.

It made perfect sense why the executives and TaggeCo employees all lived on-site in dormitories and residential halls. Why, despite being poisoned, the Lakarani preferred camping in clapboard shacks surrounding the refinery. You were less likely to get your throat slit.

And looming above the lawless chaos, coiling upward in a gleaming steel spire, is Yarella the Hutt’s castle.

“Why would he do that?”

Mando certainly didn’t need the money. Did the man not know what else to do with himself? Did his life hold no purpose beyond battle and hunting? You can feel tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. How could that be his priority when you haven’t seen each other in weeks?

“I think he wanted to have some cover for why we’re here on Lakaran,” Nito shrugs. “You know, big scary Mandalorian in your backyard makes people nervous. Yarella will probably have a job for him.” 

Without pausing to take off your clothes, you shrug off the rucksack, step out of your boots, and wade into the lake.

“Uh, Thuli–”

You dive into the water before Nito can see you crying. 

Mando’s not here. You don’t care about the rationale or logic of his decision. He couldn’t wait one fucking day—one fucking hour—to see you?

The crushing weight of disappointment that he’s not here—that he couldn’t care less about being here to see you—feels inescapable, like the pull of an anchor dragging you down toward the murky depths. You kick your legs out in frustration, but you can’t swim. You can’t breathe. You just sob, choking as frigid water fills your mouth and subsumes your tears.

Why would he do this? You thought you’d offered him the perfect arrangement. The perfect companion and sexual partner. Instead, you’ve been blown off and left behind.

Mando doesn’t let many people in. So you would have thought that what you shared together…a...a connection—

Fuck—a connection? You know, in your bones, he’s never shared that kind of intimacy and tenderness with anyone else. You would’ve thought it mattered more to him.

Apparently not.

Was this your fault? Before leaving for Lakaran, he’d asked about what to tell the kids, and you said something like, “This doesn’t have to change anything.” You didn’t want to burden him with worry over love, duty, and Creeds. 

Was it the wrong thing to say? Should you have confessed that your heart belonged to him and no one else? Would he be here if you had? Maybe he was simply taking you at your word—that what you’d shared didn’t change anything.      

The truly heartbreaking realization is that as angry as you feel toward Mando, the real person you’re angry with is yourself. You’d told him he didn’t need to change, but you still expected him to. Are you really such a narcissist that you thought having sex with you one time would be such a transformative experience he’d wake up a completely different person?

It had been three times. Regardless, you’re not being fair. You want to storm and rage. But what good will it do? You’ve fallen for a man whose life is encased in cold steel.  

Hadn’t you prayed for clarity and wisdom? It won’t heal the hurt breaking your heart to pieces or soothe your anger, but you’ve got to temper these feelings with honesty, for him and yourself. 

Stepping out of the lake and back onto the shore, you peel off your wet clothes and join the baby, catching tadpoles in the shallow waters and swallowing them whole. 

It’s a beautiful day. You’ve got the whole morning to spend with these two wonderful kids you deeply cherish. Who’s absence had also weighed on your heart these past eighteen days. Why spoil this precious time together? 

For being a nosy adolescent, Nito very graciously ignores your red, swollen eyes and doesn’t ask what’s wrong.

“I’m about a minute from eating some of those mud-guppies myself,” he moans, watching the Child slurp down handfuls. “We’re down to broth and hardtack.”

“Well, let’s catch some fish,” you offer. 

“I don’t know how," Nito murmurs. "You can’t eat anything from the harbor in Coronet City, so I never thought to learn. Do you think I can actually, like, catch a one? With…my hands?”

“Come on, city slicker, I’ll teach you.”

“Do you have a hook? Isn’t that how they do it?”

“Yes," you chuckle. "You can also use a net or a basket. But I’ll show you how to spear a fish. I’m sure Mando has a spear somewhere in that arsenal.”

Even better, the Mandalorian has a ranseur, which is basically a fancy trident. Nito’s eyes widen in horror.  

“Won’t Mando be mad if we get fish guts on his spear?”

“Fuck’im,” you say darkly, without pause.

Nito looks askance at your embittered tone.

“What? It’s not made of Beskar.”

His brow remains furrowed, “I want to learn about the baskets.”

After scouring the Razor Crest for all the necessary tools, you camp out on the shore, braiding fishing baskets from the tall reed grass surrounding the lake. “Did you learn how to do this in the war? So you wouldn’t starve?”

“What?” you laugh, showing Nito how to strip the reeds for cordage. “No, I learned to fish as a child.”

“I thought you grew up in a palace?”

“That came later. I moved to the palace when I was your age.” 

Moved to the palace is a very polite way to describe being abducted and held hostage against your will. But you’re committed to keeping the vibes positive this morning, so you leave that out. Nito’s childhood was no picnic either.

“Before the palace, I lived with my family in a house by the beach. So we fished. You grew up on Corellia, so you learned engines.”

“Hmm…you are terrible with technology. But this is pretty cool. We’re really gonna catch fish in this thing?”

“With a rock and some patience, we will,” you wink at him, tying off your knots. “Here, you carry the baskets, and I’ll get the kid.” 

About an hour later, you’ve caught at least a dozen fish. And it’s impossible to feel anything but pride seeing the joy on Nito’s face. You show him how to clean and scale the big ones. Baby chomps down the rest. “Hey, kiddo. Close your mouth when you chew.”

“Are you staying to eat these?” Nito asks. “Or do you have to go back?”

“I think we should spend the rest of the morning camouflaging the ship. You can tell me all about your adventures on Coruscant while we work. But first, I need a nap.”

You tell yourself this is not a ploy—that you’re not stalling for time in the hopes of seeing the Mandalorian when he returns. But that’s a lie.

Nito suddenly grows fidgety. “I—um. I should maybe tell you that Mando’s been sleeping in there.”

“What?”

“In the sleeping compartment. Not at first. You know how he usually sleeps with his back against a wall or something? But then…” Nito trails off. “I just thought you should know.”  

Damnit, your heart starts racing. The Mandalorian has been sleeping in your bed. Your mind leaps to a million possible reasons, yet what else could it mean? 

A wide smile tugs at your lips. And you’d begun to wonder if he missed you at all. 

“Thanks for telling me.”

Standing in front of the sleeping compartment, your body is awash with nervous anticipation. Over what, you have no idea. Just that…

When the door slides up with a faint whine of compressed air, you stare down at the bedroll and gasp. On top of your blankets is a brightly patterned piece of cloth. You pick it up—the fabric is so soft and diaphanous that it slips through your fingers like falling water. 

Free of its delicate folds, you realize it’s a stunning silk robe.  

In his eagerness to undress you, the Mandalorian had torn the hem of your (old) robe, pulling it over your head. It’s so old, tattered, and threadbare that you told him not to worry about it.

This one is elegant, with a beautiful print—pale pink, with butterflies in shades of blue and lavender. Like moondust, you smile. You remember telling Nito about the butterflies on Hapes that migrated along the coast and converged in the palace gardens. Was it a coincidence, or had Mando been listening? 

It might be one of the most beautiful gifts you’ve received from…anyone. 

Mando had left it folded neatly on top of the bedroll, knowing you'd come back to the ship. Kriffing hell, why hadn’t he just waited for you?

Ugh! How could one man be so generous and insensitive at the same time?!

You groan and throw yourself onto the blankets—which, of course, smell like him. You bury your face into the covers to breathe in his scent. The warm, smokey fragrance of the muscle salve he used. The tang of leather and the musk of his sweat. 

It’s a scent tied to your memories—distracting fever dreams of his tongue trailing the curve of your throat, the soft brush of his lips on your collarbone, his warm breath against the shell of your ear. 

You will absolutely not cry and masturbate over this man yet again. Once was a tragedy. Twice is a habit.

But even now, in your mind’s eye, he was kissing you, his mouth sliding down your neck, drinking in your skin, your bodies tangled up together as he moved inside you. Each caress of silk against your nipples is a reminder of his lips.

Had it been like this for him? Were you in his thoughts when he slept in this bed? Did Mando touch himself and think of you? 

You close your eyes and trace your hand down your stomach toward the heat pooling between your thighs. At least there’s no tears in your eyes this time.

When you open them, your imagination conjures the Mandalorian here with you, kneeling between your legs to watch your fingers work. He joins you, drawing his cock into his hand, stroking himself with long, languorous pulls. 

It’s an abstract fantasy since you’ve never seen his face—but you imagine holding each other’s gazes.

His eyes would be...brown. Definitely brown. The hairs trailing down Mando's smooth, muscular stomach are dark and coarse. His powerful body is taut and beautiful—broad shoulders, tapered waist, and thick, sinewy thighs. You would stare into each other's eyes, stroking in rhythm as your breathing quickens, moans rising together. 

You writhe on top of the covers, this vision of him fixed in your mind. His lips slightly parted as he breathes harder and faster, fist tight around his shaft, the dark head of his cock sliding back and forth within his grip. When he did that, here, on this bed, he was remembering you.

Then you think back to the moment he first plunged inside you, that first shock of penetration. His satisfied groan, your own desperate cry.

You keep replaying that—over and over again, the first time every time, your fingers moving as fast as he could thrust—until your orgasm hits you so hard the world goes white. Your eyes roll back in the rush of release. Everything is blurred and humming, and you’re lost to the pulsing of your heart and your cunt.

You lay there a few moments, expecting to feel his body pressed against you in the aftermath, but…Mando’s gone. He's not here.

And when you finally wake up hours later, he still hasn’t returned.

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

Continue reading: Volume 4-Post #6: Count Your Blessings

Back to Volume 4 - all posts

[hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall]

Jealous

Pairing: Echo x F!Reader, Tech x F!Reader (platonic), Bad Batch x F!Reader (platonic) 

Words: 11 078 

Warning: ANGST, fluff, jealousy, Echo’s insecurities, swear words

Summary: Feelings aren’t really something the Clones are good with. Especially when it comes to love and jeakousy.

A/N: I had this story in my WIPs for a while now. I’m not sure I’m 100% happy about it, but I don’t think I can do more with it now. So I hope you enjoy it ;) 

“That must have cost you a fortune!” Hunter exclaimed, but couldn’t help the big smile on his lips when he looked at all the food on the table. You heard them talk about how their missions were getting more and more annoying and the pay wasn’t as good either. You knew Cid was shady, but you wouldn’t expect her to cheat on the money. You worked for her from time to time. You were pretty good with repairing stuff. Not a genius, like Tech, but you were handy and actually enjoyed it. And well, working at a little restaurant in the center of the city wasn’t giving you that warm feeling in your stomach as playing around in oil and old clancking metals. The job was good. It paid the rent and all the junk that was laying around the flat. Despite not being the most fulfilling, it did let you make that dinner for the boys. 

“It smells amazing!” Wrecker shouted happily, you could almost see the drooling in the corner of his mouth and you chuckled softly. 

“I may have gotten overboard, but you said your last couple of missions didn’t go as planned and well, I wanted to do something nice for you.” The Clones looked at you softly and looked around at all the things you prepared. You did take some of the things from your restaurant but it would be thrown away anyway. And you were sure your boys and Omega would be more than happy to eat it. “I made some chocolate pie”, the teenager exclaimed happily and ran to sit on one of the chairs at the table, almost eating with her eyes. “Go sit down, I’ll be back in a minute”. They all nodded and went to join the girl, while you went back into the kitchen. You double checked on the pie to make sure it wouldn’t burn and you took out the wine from the fridge and some grape juice for Omega knowing she wouldn’t want to be left alone. 

“May I help?” You jumped slightly hearing Echo’s soft voice behind you. He apologized shyly and sent you one of his smiles you absolutely adored. “Meshl'a it smells heavenly in here.” He sighed, his smile growing when he noticed the bottle of the alcohol. “Are we celebrating something?” He asked, walking closer, taking the tray with the glasses in his hand smirking at you. 

“I got it from my boss as a gratitude for all the overtime, so… If you don’t like it, I can get something else.” You were about to turn and look for something else when his chuckle stopped you. Just a simple gesture and it completely changed his face. The always serious and tired mask would fall sometimes whenever he laughed and you loved it. You were absolutely smitten with Echo, but you expected that a romance was not something he would be interested in and you weren’t really a one night stand type of girl. So you kept your feelings hidden and you just became his friend. Someone he could always talk to and lean on when his brothers and Omega were just too much. 

“This is more than enough cyar'ika” Your eyes widened at his endearment, but you decided to let it go. It was probably just a slip of a tongue, or your Mandoe wasn’t as good as you thought. “Come on let’s go or Wrecker will eat everything before we have a chance to even try it out.” You chuckled and took the bottle and a juice, while Echo helped you with the glasses. Yes, friends were definitely enough if it meant he would smile at you the same, beautiful way as he did before you left the kitchen. 

***

“And she was hanging from the Marauder. I thought Hunter would shit himself!” Wrecker laughed out loud, making the Sergeant chuckle softly. You loved moments like that. When they all looked so happy, so relaxed, like there was no worry in the world. You looked to your right and your eyes shined seeing Echo laugh. It wasn’t often that the ARC Trooper would look and sound so relaxed. He was sitting on the chair, finishing his piece of pie, his whole posture relaxed. 

“One of these days she will give me a heart attack”, you looked to your room where Wrecker put her in your bedroom not even 30 minutes ago. The poor thing was falling asleep, eating the pie and she was more than happy to oblige when you offered her your bed. She was a lot but you could see that whatever there was, the Batch needed it. Maybe it was the lack of Crosshair or just the whole thing with the Republic, but Omega was a cure they all needed to feel normal, only if just a little bit. 

“I wouldn’t mind staying with her from time to time” you proposed and all of them stared at you in surprise. “Of course in a disguise of some girls' night or something”, you shrugged and almost jumped feeling Echo’s hand on your thigh. You looked at him and your heart almost stopped, seeing the most beautiful and soft smile. There was something hidden behind those eyes that you weren’t able to read and the heat of his stare and of the touch made you blush like a stupid teenager in love. 

“You are our guardian Angel” he finally stated, petting your thigh with his hand. “You are already doing so much for us, we wouldn’t want you to feel like you need to…” 

“Are you kidding me!? I love this furr ball of energy!” You exclaimed happily, your eyes leaving to Hunter, who everyone knew had the last, decision making voice in all this. “I know I’m not the most reliable person when it comes to keeping her safe, but…” 

“We would owe you”, Hunter stopped you and your smile widened. He knew how you always put yourself down with the fact that you were just a civilian and wasn’t as skilled as them when it came to fighting or shooting. He always promised to give you some training, but never found time for it. 

“Y/N?” You looked at Wrecker and frowned, seeing how he became quiet all of a sudden, awkwardly looking around. 

“Yes, sweetheart”, the boys absolutely loved the little nicknames you had for them. It was a sign of your feeling towards them, how you saw them as your family and they would never be able to truly tell you how happy that made them. You looked at his nervous look on his plate and you chuckled. “There is still some pie in the kitchen, would you like some?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his adorable expression and the childish nodding of his head. “Tech, sweety?” The man looked up from his datapad, surprised to be outshined. He looked at Hunter who shrugged, but as always was open to help. He left the pad and followed you to the kitchen. “Would you like some as well?” He nodded, unsure what he was really doing here. 

He likes you, a lot. He wasn’t sure if like was a good word to describe it. He felt comfortable with you. You listened to his mumbling, and actually were interested in what he had to say. You never minded his informality and he really enjoyed spending time with you. He considered you to be intelligent, enough so to hold an actual intellectual conversation while repairing some parts of the ships together. There were times when you would loan him a book or two for his sleepless nights and he would comm you to tell you all about it. You were like a sister he never knew he wanted, but so dearly needed in his life. You tried so hard, like with everyone else, to make him feel welcomed and comfortable, that he tried really hard to bite his tongue, sometimes not to slight you in any way. 

“I’m sorry for all that, but would you follow me to my study?” Your study. He adored that place. It was dark, full of broken and not very so equipment. A place for you just to lose yourself in your little hobby. Tech would even come to your flat only to sit there with his pad and just be there, sit next to you, or even alone, if you let him. Which you always did. Eventually giving him a spare key, in case he needed to use the room, when you were at work, or something. He was thankful, really. “I’m working on something, but I won’t lie I am stuck a bit…” You started shyly, working nervously with your fingers. Something he noticed you did quite often. A nervous tick, something he was very familiar with. “And who’s better to ask for help, than my sweet genius.” He blushed at your little nickname and followed you, holding you by your hand.

He liked how messy it was here. It wasn’t dirty, not at all. Rather it was crowded from all the equipment, written ideas and just unfinished projects. He learned pretty quickly to maneuver through it, without breaking anything. Another little gesture he did for you. Just for you. And so he watched you going through one of your shelves and his eyes widened when you came back with your most precious work so far. 

“Is that?” He started, taking the invention into his hands, almost too afraid to touch it. It looked almost done in his opinion and very, very expensive. Whatever pieces you gathered for this, must have been top notch and he looked over it with a fascination written on his face. 

“It’s his birthday in more than a month, so I thought I may give him something special… Did I go overboard?” He didn’t understand the whole birthday thing. They were clones, they didn’t have birthdays, which angered you truly. That was one of the few times when he saw you furious. And so a new tradition was created. You were able to somehow get the info on when all of them were created and decided that it was their birthdays. He remembered how sad you were when you found out that all of the Bad Batch except for Echo and Omega were created on the same day. But this didn’t stop you. You made that day the most amazing day of the year for them. You would buy them something special, something just for them. You even baked them a big cake once and he couldn’t help the little tear that escaped his eyes when each of the boys were ‘forced’ to blow the candles. 

“This is incredible” he mumbled under his nose, still looking at what you gave him. He never knew you were even working on it. “It looks done to me…” 

“I got all the mechanic stuff done, but I’m not good with neuro stuff. I would never be able to effectively make the hand actually work with his neuro system…” You looked away, embarrassed, playing with your finger nervously. “I know you already have a lot of work to do, but would you be able to help me with this?” He stared at the hand with awe. It looked even better than that of General’s Skywalker and Tech had to admit, he was impressed. It looked like you not only spent lots of time on it, but lots of money as well. He remembered the prices of some of those parts and he then remembered a conversation he once had with Hunter. 

“It’s kind of adorable to see her like that”, it was one of the days that you spent alone with Echo. You leaned on his shoulder with a satisfied smile on your face. You were probably the only person who found him comfortable and Echo let you lean on him whenever you wanted to. It made him really happy and Tech always thought it was just one of these things you did to make them all feel welcomed and comfortable. 

“What do you mean? She always acts like that.” Tech asked, looking at the way you laughed about something Echo said. He didn’t understand that then, but now he remembers how your eyes shined, when looking at his brother. How your smile seemed much bigger and more natural when you were with him. 

“She’s always like that with Echo.” Hunter said then, and Tech just now realized how true he was. You always treated them all with nothing but love, but as much as it was purely platonic with the rest of them, your love for Echo was different, and Tech just now truly realized it.

“I wanted it to be a surprise, and I know no one better who could help me… I mean I understand if you already have enough on your…” 

“I’ll help”, he finally said, taking his eyes off the mechanical hand. “You did an incredible job with that. It’s a thoughtful gift.” You smiled widely at a complement and before he was able to react, you flung yourself at him, laughing quietly. He wasn’t a fan of hugs, but surprisingly whenever you, or Omega gave them, he didn’t mind them as much anymore. Weird. 

As he was about to say something more, a cough made them jump. His first reaction was to hide the prosthetic behind himself, which turned out to be a decent idea at the time, as Echo was leaning on the doors to the room, looking at them with an unreadable expression. 

“We started to worry”, he mumbled, his eyes landed on Tech and then traveled to you. You smiled at him but frowned when he didn’t return it at first. But when he finally did, there was something fake there. Like he forced himself to do so. You pleaded Tech with your eyes to hide the hand away and followed Echo into the kitchen. 

“Do you want a piece as well?” You asked and turned around from the fridge, when you didn’t hear the answer. You frowned realizing that Echo just left the kitchen and came back to the living room where you were all sitting. Something weird tucked at your heart at his behavior. You tried to remember if you did or say something in this short period of time to make him act like that. 

“I can meet you tomorrow here to work on it”, Tech started, walking into the kitchen. You nodded thankfully and gave him some of the plates to take with him to the kitchen. The weird feeling continued when you came back and sat next to Echo, who seemed to ignore you.

 ***

He hated that feeling. He knew he was acting like a complete jerk, but it was stronger than him. He never thought he would ever act out of jealousy, especially not towards his own brother. And here he was, barking at Tech for even the most absurd things. Even Hunter started to notice that something was off and well that was never good. He was too perspective and Echo did not want his brothers to know how he felt.

What was worse, Tech wasn’t the only one that became a victim of his anger. He didn’t miss the way your smile died at the end of that evening. He remembers how you tried to talk to him, even made some of your awful jokes, but Echo didn’t care. He was angry, he was jealous, he was hurt and betrayed. He knew he didn’t have the right to feel like that. You were never even remotely his. And yet when he walked in on you and Tech hugging, your expression was so happy he thought he was going to throw up. He felt physically ill. He was angry at himself for even thinking that someone like you would ever fall for someone like him. A machine with some pieces of humanity left in him. He felt ashamed when he thought of all the times he flirted and he thought it worked on you. How you blushed and chuckled softly, how your eyes shined when looking at him, how you held his hand. And it all turned out to be some stupid joke. He knew he had no right to blame you for that, but he still did, because there was only so much hate one person can feel towards himself. 

He dreamed that there may come a time when he would find that courage he once had, when he and Fives would talk to the girls in the 79's. That he would finally find his old self somewhere deep and ask you out. He planned to do it, after seeing all the things you did for them that night. No one has ever done so much for him, for any Clones. You loved them all and he was stupid enough to think that it may have been less platonic towards him. And so he decided to guide his emotions once again. Just like he was doing before he met you. Before he started to see you as more than just one of them, like his brothers did. He closed himself off and ignored anything related to you. 

And he kept on doing it for a month now. Seeing how it affected you and ignoring it. It was difficult at the beginning, because whenever he saw you, all he wanted was to hug you and kiss the pout off your lips. But as the days went on, as more and more missions went on, he just stopped caring. He stopped seeing the sadness in your eyes, whenever he chose to leave the room, whenever you walked in. He ignored the tears he was sure to see, whenever he moved away from your touch. Those teary eyes were the worst. He once promised himself that he would never make you cry, and he was too broken to even care now. And he definitely did not care how Tech was always at your place when they weren’t on the mission. No he didn’t care at all. After all, you weren’t his to care about. 

***

Tech wasn’t a blind man, and no matter what some may think, he wasn’t immune to emotions. He just reacted to them differently than others. But no, Tech was not a blind man. And he did not miss how you always hide your emotions. He saw those circles under your puffy eyes, probably from unslept nights. He saw how hard you tried to keep Echo close to you, when he started to isolate himself from you. Tech saw all these tears you tried so desperately to hide from him, from his brothers, from Echo and from yourself. He saw how much you hurt and how you started to isolate yourself as well. Cautiously of course, but he saw it. You didn’t come to see them the same day they landed. You didn’t come to just hang out with them anymore. He knew, he tried to understand that it wasn’t ‘because you got tired of them’ as Wrecker stated once angrily. No, you would never. He saw it in your eyes, the way you asked about him and his brothers. He knew you wanted to see them but couldn’t, because you would see him and that was crushing you harder than anything he’s seen before. 

He prided himself in knowing and yet here he was still with so many questions unanswered. He spends his time at your flat trying to make this hand working. You both failed more times than he could count and yet you never gave up. Pleading him with those pretty, teary eyes to try again and again. And he was unable to say no, because he wanted to see that sparkle in your eyes, even if it was just for these couple of moments when you worked together. 

“There is something I don’t understand”, he finally spoke, unable to control himself any further. It has been a month since Echo has been acting like that and he couldn’t comprehend any of that. 

“Yes?” You asked, surprise written on your face. It wasn’t often that Tech didn’t know something, but it was even rarer that he admitted to it. You put the screwer away and turned towards him, giving him all of your attention. 

“You don’t see him anymore and I cannot blame you. Echo is my brother, but even I have to admit that whatever got into him is hurting you.” He started, trying to ignore the way you shrunk at the sound of his name. “He’s been nothing but ignorant and rude towards you for the past month and yet here we are working on that hand. A gift from you to him. And I am sure you are also planning some kind of thing for that birthday thing you came up with.”

“What is your question, Tech?”, you asked, looking away, down on the floor. Your fingers nervously twisting. You knew what Tech wanted to know, of course you did but the mere thought of it made you feel so silly and vulnerable that you tried to ignore it. 

“Why?” The question was so simple and yet you weren’t sure how to answer it in a way that you wouldn’t look weak in his eyes. Pathetic in some way. You valued his friendship and presence and you were afraid to lose him as well. 

“Echo has always been a difficult man, since the first day we met”, you started, sitting up on the table, playing around with the screwer. “I cannot blame him, he went through a lot. More than anyone should in their entire life. But despite it all there was still so much good in him. I see how he cares for his brothers, for Omega, for…” You bite your lip and sigh. No, not anymore, if you read him correctly. “He’s a good man that deserves to be treasured and loved by people closest to him.” 

“And do you love him?” You smiled softly and closed your eyes, to stop them from tearing. The answer was so simple, and yet you were afraid that if you admit to your feelings out loud you would finally break. 

“I love all of you. I love Wrecker for being the sweetest and most caring boy. I love Omega for her kind heart, I love Hunter for his protectiveness. I love you for that big brain of yours and willingness to always help.” You looked up and smiled softly. You could see it in his eyes, the gratefulness, the way these words affected him, but you could also see the way he was waiting for you to continue. “But my love for Echo is different. I love him the way I know I shouldn’t because it is not a place nor a time to do so. I love him and yes the last month hurt me in more ways I dare to admit. But if he grows tired of me or whatever the reason he has for his behavior, then I will remove myself from the picture. If it makes him happy.”

“Even if it hurts you?” You nodded and Tech felt nothing but anger now. He didn’t understand why you would do so much for someone who didn’t even want to be a part of your life. He was angry at Echo for his decision to isolate himself from you for no real reason. For no reason at all, actually. He knew that Echo was battling his own War in his head, but that did not excuse him for that behavior. “Then why are you still doing all this?”, he waved around the room. “If you’re so content on doing what he wants and isolating yourself from him and us in that matter”, you flinch hearing anger in his voice. Something so uncharacteristic for him. For someone who always follows logic. “What makes you think that after all that time he would even accept it?” There, your biggest fear was out in the open. 

“Because I’m selfish ok?” You finally screamed, jumping from your table. Your eyes shut closed, your head was facing the floor and your hands were pulled into fists. “Because I want him to be happy, and if I can be a reason for this happiness, then I cannot stop myself. If this hand makes his life easier then I will spend all the time that is needed to perfect it, because I love him more than I care about my own happiness!” You didn’t care that you were crying anymore. If Tech wanted to think you were weak and pathetic. Go on, losing yet another person shouldn’t be as painful anymore.  “I know he would never accept this from you, not now when all I feel from him is annoyance and ignorance to whatever I do… so I hoped I could make one more wish toward you Tech…” He clenched his fists and did something he normally never does. Even with Omega. He closed the space between the two of you and hugged you, unable to comfort you in any different way. He knew no words would make you feel better. 

“Let’s finish that, then.” You nodded and thanked him through your sobs. 

***

“So are we going to talk about what’s bothering you?” Echo looked up from his work and raised his brow, pretending to not understand what his brother was about. “I will ignore whatever the hell you have with Tech going on, because I know you don’t always get along. But Echo, what the hell happened between you and Y/N?” Echo flinched a bit with your name and he came back to his work, trying to engage his brain in something more than your image. “You used to be inseparable and then you just stopped talking to her.” 

“I don’t know what you mean”, Hunter was the one brother Echo never wanted to get involved in his problems. He was perspective and always cared too much for his own good. “We are all occupied with the missions. It's normal that we don’t have time to play home anymore.” Sergeant raised his brow at a choice of words and sighed, sitting next to his brothers, expecting it to be a longer conversation. 

“Tech seems to find enough time in his calendar”, Hunter smirked seeing how anger flushed on Echo’s face, only for just a second. But it was there and he knew that he was right in his presumptions about what was going on. 

“Well, because of his little adventures I am left alone to deal with the repairs” he huffed angrily, knowing well that this was complete and utter bullshit, because Tech had never left to your place before ending whatever he had to do here. And Echo knew that Hunter knew that. “Not to mention I’m not Tech’s babysitter to tell him what he can and cannot do”. At this particular moment Hunter was glad Crosshair was not here with them, as he expected to hear a quiet “or who” under his breath. This would definitely escalate to something bigger and well, this was not what any of them needed now. Not to mention that Hunter knew for sure, that whatever Tech was doing at your home was not related to what Echo was probably thinking. 

Hunter knew how much you adored Echo. And you had to be a complete idiot, or Echo, to actually not see that. He was never really into cliche relationship stuff, but seeing the two of you interact made Hunter believe that it was actually pretty adorable. He knew that whatever was blooming between the two of you was something special, and Hunter was happy to see his brother opening up to you. He was certain Echo would have finally asked you out that night of the supper you made for them. But something happened between the three of you. Hunter didn’t know what that was, but it must have been huge, if it has affected both Echo and you so much. He understood why you didn’t come here anymore. He was sure you were doing it all for Echo’s sake, not caring of your own broken heart. You were a good person, a kind one, and this has led to you being hurt on more occasions than he wished to see. 

“The way you’ve been acting recently tells me that that’s just full of batha shit.” Echo glared at his brother and Hunter couldn’t help but grin, getting a reaction out of him. “What happened that night?” He wanted things to come back the way they were. If he was very selfish, he would admit that he missed you. The way you were always able to lift up their spirits. He missed that sweet smile that would brighten even his worst days. He just missed you and wanted you back. 

“I got my hopes up”, Echo finally started. Hunter could see anger on his face, but there was something painful in his tone. “I made myself believe I have a chance with her… A mistake I won’t make again.” 

“She rejected you?” Hunter asked, surprise in his voice, his brow tightening at his brother’s words. That didn’t make sense. You were in love with Echo, if he would have ever made the first move you would have probably fainted from happiness. Something was way off and Hunter wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear further, but he knew he needed to know, to be able to help you move forward.  

“Didn’t have time… Didn’t have to…” Echo spat at him angrily, throwing away the equipment from his hands. He stood up and leaned on the door to the exit of the ship. “They were hugging. She was so happy, Hunter. So damn happy and I knew… I just knew…” 

“Echo…” 

“Something shifted in me when I saw them, OK? I was angry, betrayed. I know I have no right to feel that way, but I… I don’t know Hunter, it just hurts.” Hunter didn’t know what to say. He could not believe that Tech would ever go against his brother’s feelings, especially with you, the one that loved Echo for so long now. Not to mention that from Echo mentioned it was just a hug, but maybe there was something more he wasn’t telling him. Hunter didn’t want to anger Echo with speculations, not when he finally opened up to him. 

“Ignoring the situation doesn’t do anything to any of the sides. Talk to Tech, I’m sure he didn’t want to hurt you. Talk to her, maybe this is all just a big misunderstanding.” He stood and patted him on his shoulder. “I don’t like to see any of you like that”, and then he left, ignoring Echo’s frustrated sigh. 

***

“This has got to be my biggest achievement so far”, Tech mumbled looking at their finished project. It wasn’t easy to make it work without Echo being here, but he was certain everything would be good once he plugged it in. He smiled at you, handing it back to you. “But it’s not my piece of work. I merely helped. You should be proud of yourself.” You blushed at his complement, knowing how rarely Tech gave them out. “This will definitely help him out.” He frowned seeing the way your smile faded a bit and you nodded your head. You both have been working over a month on that one thing and just now did he realize how tired you looked. You have been working your normal job and then spent most of your nights working on Echo’s new hand. 

But you never complained. Of course you cursed many times under your nose, when something didn’t work out, but that is a natural thing. Even he had a list of Mando’a curses that he taught you throughout the month. After that last conversation you both had, Tech never asked you about your situation about Echo, nor about your feelings for his brother. He knew, however, that the topic should come out at least just once to discuss what to do with a ‘little’ gift of yours. You did mention once that you wanted Tech to give it to Echo, but he wasn’t comfortable with it. It was your gesture toward his brother. Your hours, days and weeks spent on working on it and he wasn’t able to phantom why you would not give it to Echo. 

“Perfect timing. His birthday is in four days”, you smiled softly, starting to clean up all the equipment away. Anything, just not to look at Tech. Not to start that conversation again, not to admit to the pain in your chest whenever you thought of Echo receiving the gift and you never seeing his face. But you couldn’t, not when Echo was so adamant on not seeing you. 

“You should give it to him. As a meeting of minds.” You widened your eyes and swallowed harder. “I can talk to him…” 

“No!” you turned around and his stare softened, seeing tears in your eyes. “He doesn’t want to see me, Tech. He hates me for whatever reason. How can I give it to him when he’s so determined to forget me? What if he doesn't want to use it, because it’s from me?” 

“He knows I was meeting you. He will realize that we worked on it together.” Tech tried. Your logic was valid and he hated it. He was normally the one that followed logic but not this time. Right now he wanted you to be happy. And apparently the only way to make that happen was for you to have Echo in your life again.  

“Then you tell him you were just using my office. Tech, please, do this for me!” He closed his eyes and nodded, unable to say no to you. 

“That doesn’t change the fact that I don’t like that!” He mumbled, but smiled hearing your quiet chuckle. 

***

Echo didn’t expect the party. He thought the moment you were no longer a part of their group, the whole tradition would die out. But apparently his brothers believed it wouldn’t be fair for them to have one and he didn’t, so here they were. On the Marauder with a cake and some gifts and a very happy Omega jumping around him, preparing for him to blow away the candles. It was silly, but seeing her happy, after almost a month of sulking after you, made Echo happy as well. 

He couldn’t lie, your presence was missed. It was weird to do it, without you and a part of him was angry at you that you didn’t even try to come. But the rational part knew that he had no right to be angry. He did it by himself. He made you distance yourself from the team and you probably just did what he wanted. After all, you always did. 

“Make a wish” Omega giggled and he rolled his eyes blowing the candles. He didn’t know what to wish for. Maybe some piece, maybe Rox to join them, Crosshair to come back, or making the Empire vanish. But he was scared to admit that right at his moment he was happy and he had everything he would wish for. Almost. You weren’t there, but it was something he got used to by now, as hard as it was. “What did you wish for?” He chuckled and ruffled her hair making her laugh even more at that. 

“We all got you something. Nothing big as you know the money is tight but…” Hunter extended a bag towards him and Echo sent them all a small smile in thanks. They were new gun holders he once spoke about. His old ones weren’t holding up so well and he mentioned Hunter about new ones a while ago. He couldn’t believe his brother actually believed it. He hugged each one of them separately and then was met with Tech. 

Echo tried to work things up with his brother. He apologized for being snappy, but he could still feel that Tech was holding something up against him. They didn’t come back to the way it was before that night and Echo knew that he was to blame for that. So it surprised him to see Tech holding another box in his hands. 

“I…” He coughed awkwardly and Echo raised his brow, waiting patiently. “I was already working on it for a while, so I guess I can just give it to you as a birthday gift.” The younger Clone shifted uncomfortably and extended the bag towards, unable to even look Echo in the eyes. 

He hated doing it. He hated that he had to lie to Echo, he despised the fact that he had to lie to himself as well, and what was worse he hated the fact that his stupid brother would never know of your contribution to this amazing gift. He looked at Hunter who nodded slightly. Of course he knew. He felt something was off, the same day, Tech was back from your flat with the finished hand in a bag. 

“You’re back earlier this time.” Tech turned to meet Hunter, leaning at the entrance to the cockpit, his eyes looking at the bag Tech brought with him. “What did you get there?” 

“I promised her no-one would know.” Tech mumbled, sitting in his chair, staring with almost hatred at the bag. He heard Hunter walking closer, and seating next to him, waiting for him to continue. “I mean I promised her he wouldn’t know.” 

“Who? And about what?” Sergeant asked, his brow raising, worried to hear the worst. Fearing that what he believed was definitely not happening between you and Tech, was actually happening and poor Echo was right. He was already preparing himself for the talk with his brother about loyalty, when Tech opened the bag (after looking around to make sure no one was there) and Hunter’s eyes widened seeing what was inside. “Is that?” 

“A Machno-hand, yes. A very expensive, well-made specially for Echo. A machno-hand made by Y/n for Echo. A machno-hand I helped her program to fit specially for Echo.” Hunter stared at the prosthetic and even he knew it was not something small. He remembered Rex once mentioning Skywalker's hand and how complex that thing was. “It’s one of the most advanced things I ever saw and she built it all by herself. She even added electrostatic fingertips to it. It’s way more advanced than what Skywalker once had.” 

“Is that why you went to her all that time?” 

“She built the hand all by herself”, he repeated and sighed, closing and hiding the box, so no one would find it. “But she wasn’t able to run through the sensory impulses issues, so she asked me to help her.” Hunter sighed and leaned back finally understanding what was happening, at least starting to. 

“So why have you never told any of us? Never told Echo?” 

“She wanted it to be a gift. So she asked me to work in secret on it. Especially after Echo started to act like a complete di’kut.” Hunter’s head snapped towards his brother. It wasn’t like Tech never swore, but it wasn’t often he used that language against one of his brothers. “Even after he hurt her, she still wanted him to have it. She won’t give it to him, because she knows he wouldn’t accept it that way. So… So she made me promise I will give it to him as a gift from me… She even prepared all this shit for his party. She wants him to have it. She’ll bake a cake and give it to us, but she won’t come. I don’t understand that, Hunter. How could she do all that and not want any recognition?” Hunter smiled sadly at his brother. Tech was a genius but emotions were something he always took a while longer to progress. Especially something as deep as what you felt towards Echo. Hunter knew Tech loved you the same way he loved his brothers. You two had a special bond that no other would understand and Hunter wasn’t surprised that this shift between you and Echo has affected Tech the most. 

“She was never really up for the recognition, not when it comes to making something for us. What Y/N feels for Echo is something much deeper than any of us would be able to understand. She loves him deeply and knowing her, she would do anything to make him happy, even if that made her miserable.” 

“She said the same thing.” Hunter nodded and clapped his brother on the shoulder. “Part of me wants to tell Echo the truth, but I promised her and she was already betrayed by enough Clones.” Sergeant sighed and nodded. He wasn’t about to give Tech any answers. It was his decision that he needed to make. But whatever was the outcome he would support him in it. 

“Tech…” Echo started, making the younger Clone look at him the first time today. “This is…” He took the prosthetic out of the box and gawked at it. 

“It will take a while for you to get used to it, especially with the new touch receptors added to it. Of course it would not feel like a real hand, but if General Skywalker was able to work around it, I’m sure you should be able to as well.” In any other situation, Tech would be thrilled to see his brother in such awe at his piece of work. But not this time. Not when he knew deep down, whatever Echo felt now should not be directed towards him. 

“That looks awesome, Tech!” Wrecker shouted, looking at Echo’s new prosthetic. “Is that why you were off the last month all the time?” Echo’s head snapped at him and Tech was very close in actually punching Wrecker in the face. It was going well, really well, until he opened his mouth. 

“I thought you were hanging out with Y/N?” Echo asked, putting the gift away for now, frowning at his brother, who looked uncomfortable at the moment, almost as if he was trying to hide something. The one thing that all the Clones shared was how awful they were at lying. He knew Rex sucked at it, so did Fives and seeing Tech now, if he wasn’t as confused now, he would consider it comedic. 

“I was”, he started, sharing a look with Hunter, who seemed as awkward as his brother and Echo had a really bad feeling about it. Something in his stomach twisted and he felt momentarily sick. He was afraid to even keep on asking further on. “I… I used her lab to work on it. I wanted it to be a surprise.” He quickly answered, but Echo didn’t buy it. He could see in the corner of his eyes, how Wrecker and Omega were looking almost as lost as he was feeling. “What’s going on Hunter?” The Sergeant sighed and patted Tech on the shoulder, giving him the look. 

There was no way of keeping it up. The more it kept on going the more damage it would cause to the group and this Hunter wanted to avoid. The relationship between Tech and Echo was already way worse than he would like to accept and as much as he loved you, he could not let that dictate the dynamic between his brothers. 

“Come on Wrecker, Omega, let them talk”, he turned and left the ship, taking the two, still confused, away leaving the two brothers in the room together. It was quiet and awkward and none of them wanted to even start the conversation. Echo was too afraid to hear what he feared from the beginning and Tech didn’t want to break the promise he gave to you. It was all messed up. 

“She misses you”, Echo turned towards Tech, his fists clenched in anger. One mention of you and he was already on edge. “She doesn’t sleep much, and even if she does, she cries herself to sleep and even then she keeps on working on that thing.” The ARC Trooper’s eyes widened at the implication. The fist unclenched and the anger that was growing inside of his stomach subsided. “She promised me I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Well, that didn’t work.” Echo murmured, falling on the chair behind him, expecting the conversation to take a while. 

“She was afraid that if you found out she made that, you wouldn’t want to take it.” Echo closed his eyes and sighed to himself, the image of you once again in front of his eyes. Something he learned to ignore for the past month. “She’s really talented, you know? I was really impressed when she showed me the prosthetic. I always knew she was quite good with mechanics but this is on a completely different level. So when she asked me to help her with the neuro-lining I was happy to help her.” 

“Of course you were!” Both of them froze at Echo’s words. He didn’t mean to say them out loud, especially not with that anger in his voice. He hated that part of him the most. The jealous type that didn’t even have any rights to be one. You weren’t his, and Tech did nothing wrong in being interested in you. But it still hurts that you chose his brother. It hurt more than whatever they did to him in Skako Minor. “I’m sorry Tech, I know I have no right to be angry, but I can’t help what I feel.” 

“I don’t understand.” The younger Clone stared at his brother with a true misunderstanding in his eyes. It was the second time he was forced to say it to someone and he truly hated to admit not knowing something. “I don’t know what happened that night. I do not understand why you ignored Y/N and why you are so angry with me. I do know that you have hurt her and seeing it now, you are hurting yourself as well.” 

“You think it's easy to look at the two of you?” Echo raised his voice, looking down on the floor, unable to meet his brother's calculating eyes. “Maker’s sake, Tech. I love her OK? What do you think it felt like when I saw you two snuggling in that lab with her!” 

“Snuggling?” Tech was so shocked with Echo’s choice of words, that he missed his brother’s declaration of feelings for you. “We never snuggled! She hugged me as a thank you, when I agreed to help her.” 

“Bullshit!” Echo stood up and looked at his brother in anger, taking a step closer towards him. “She looked so happy! Her eyes shined so brightly! Do not bullshit me and…” 

“You really are a di'kut” Tech sighed, also standing up to be on the eye level with his brother, finally understanding what was happening. “She was happy because she would be able to finish something she was working so hard on and something that would probably make you happy.” He stared right at Echo’s eyes and fought with himself not to roll his eyes and the stupidity of the whole situation. “What you thought you saw that night is just your mind playing tricks on your uncertainties. I am actually surprised you were so blind for all this time we’ve known her!” Echo was fighting with himself not to punch his little brother right now. He knew that it wouldn’t be a good idea. He promised himself that his feelings for you would never come between his brothers and so he listened to his brother, clenching his fist to try and control his anger. “I won’t lie to you, Echo. I do love her, but this feeling doesn’t differ from what I feel towards you all or Omega. I see her as a sister and a dear friend of mine. I can guarantee that she feels the same way towards me.” 

“You don’t know that! You…” 

“She loves you Echo”, the tenderness of Tech’s voice took Echo off guard. “And not in that Platonic way she feels towards all of us. She loves you so much that she’s ready to suffer only to know that you’re happy. She made me promise to tell you that gift is from me, because she knew you wouldn’t accept it any other way. She made you that cake, knowing that she would not see you taste it. And you know how she loves to see us react to her cooking.” Echo listened, not believing what his brother was saying. This wasn’t true. This could not have been true, because if it was then he was indeed the biggest di’kut in the whole damn Galaxy. And what’s worse he hurt you, he was the reason you cried as Tech said. You cried because of him. “Not to mention that she worked her ass off to even afford all the parts for that prosthetic hand of yours. I watched her work on that thing, knowing she wouldn’t be able to see your reaction, she did all this knowing you would never realize that it was her doing.”

“Stop, please…” 

“No, you will listen to me, Echo and listen good!” Tech, pushed his brother back onto the wall and towered over him. His eyes pointed directly at him, anger boiling inside of him. Echo never saw his brother like that, the always stoic Tech, was now fuming, protecting his sister’s fragile heart. “She cried and clenched to me when you ignored her all that time. Her bloodshot eyes are still haunting me, that lack of that smile we all love so much. Her heart ached for you. She cried not understanding what she’s done. There was never a time when she would blame you. All that time, she tried so desperately to find a flow in herself for why you just stopped talking to her. We all tried to understand, we all lost her, because you were jealous!” He shouted angrily, poking his hand at Echo’s chest, fighting with himself not to punch his square in the face. 

“I fucked up, I know” he started, not even fighting against Tech, knowing damn well that he deserved everything that Tech was throwing at him. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I saw the two of you and all the insecurities came crashing down. You said it yourself, that I'm barely human!” Tech frowned and took a step back hearing desperation and pain in his brother’s voice. “I never thought I was good enough for her. She deserves so much more, she deserves someone much better than me. I know what I did was unfair, but I was scared. Because the one time I let myself actually feel vulnerable with someone it turned out that she preferred my brother. At least that’s what I thought.” He looked away ashamed at himself. “I hurt her, I hurt all of you. I was a complete dick towards you Tech, for which I apologize. But I was so angry, so damn hurt that I wasn’t thinking straight. Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up.” 

Tech felt bad for his brother. He really did. Maybe he was to blame for this whole situation in some way. When he told Echo about him being mostly a machine, he would never have guessed that it would have had such an impact on the man and his self esteem. He watched him now and just couldn’t find words to assure him that there was nothing he would do, that would make you hate him. And he would always have a second chance with you. And he knew that, but he wasn’t going to be the one telling Echo this. He has done enough. 

“There’s only one way to see that.”

***

He was scared. He was never scared. He wasn’t afraid at the Citadel, he didn’t feel any fear in the Skako Minor, he didn’t feel lost when he left with the Bad Batch after he was saved by Rex. And yet here he was in front of your doors actually terrified. So anxious about your reaction, about the possible rejection, that he actually expects from you. He would be an idiot if he didn’t prepare himself for that. He hurt you, left you alone because he was scared and jealous. 

He looked down at his hand and smiled softly. It took another week after his talk with Tech to come here. He wanted to see you with his new hand, with your beautiful gift being a part of him. And so he took this time with Tech to make it part of him and he woke up everyday more and more amazed at what you did for him. Tech did try to explain the mechanics behind it, but Echo didn’t even pretend that he understood any of it. The solemn thing that you were able to make him feel things again with that hand made him the happiest man alive. And it was time to finally deal with all these things and feelings he was too much of a coward to deal with. And so he knocked, feeling his heart beating alarmingly fast. He smiled when he heard footsteps behind the doors, hoping to greet you how he was supposed to do for the past 50 days when he ignored you. 

“Echo?” His heart dropped seeing you. Your voice was so quiet, you looked tired and so sad, almost terrified to see him. “What… What are you doing here? Is everything alright? Is the team OK? Are… are you OK?” Of course, you’d ask. Of course, you’d care for him and the squad. Despite it all you’ve never changed. 

He had all this speech ready for when he saw you and now, when you were there in front of him he was feeling dumb. There you were with your messy hair in a long ponytail, with no makeup and nothing fancy to wear. He liked you like that the most. You looked so relaxed and beautiful to him, that if he would ever have to choose how he would like to remember you, it was like that. Of course without the tiredness on your face, or sadness in your eyes. 

“Everything is fine, Y/N”, he nervously looked away, scratching at the back of his neck, unable to remember anything he prepared to tell you. “I… Would you give me 10 minutes of your time?” You frowned and looked at him, freezing when you noticed the hand. Your eyes widened and couldn’t help the sad smile that decorated your lips. You stood there for a while, and he was getting nervous that you would not let him step in. But you opened your door more and welcomed him in, walking back into your living room, silently inviting him in. 

He looked around and smiled to himself. Nothing has changed. It was more messy than he expected but well… you didn’t expect any guests so who was he to judge. He also missed the smell of something baking or cooking that was always present in your flat. But seeing how tired you were, he was sure you didn’t feel like doing anything. 

“I had a whole speech prepared, believe it or not”, he chuckled nervously, shifting from one leg to another. “But seeing you now I just…” He looked at you and his smile widened, fully seeing what you were wearing. “Is that my shirt?” He cursed himself when your eyes widened in horror, looking down, realization striking you. You were indeed wearing his shirt. Something you did when the days were a bit too much or when you just missed him. To your luck, of course, today had to be the day when you wore it and Echo decided to show up, for whatever reason. 

“I will wash it and I’ll give it back”, your voice sounded so small, steering something unpleasant inside of him. 

“No, please… It’s fine. It suits you, you look cute.” You blushed and looked away and it gave Echo some kind of hope that maybe you didn’t hate him fully yet. “Listen, I don’t really know where to start. I’m not sure if a thank you or I’m sorry should be the first ones.” You frowned and tilted your head, looking at him. He was looking at you with so much hope, with something you haven’t seen in him since that dinner at your place. The last time you were able to have him, see him, talk to him. Just be with him. 

“I don’t understand…” 

“The cake was delicious”, he interrupted you, smiling faintly trying to organize his thoughts. “Wrecker got sick of eating too much and I really loved how you added lemon cream in there.” You smiled gently and he noticed how you started to nervously play with your fingers. You were never this nervous in front of him before and he hated himself for that. “And I don’t think I would ever be able to show you my gratitude for this.” he wiggled fingers of his right hand at you and you opened your mouth to say something, but nothing coherent seemed to come out. “This is the best thing I have ever gotten from anyone and I can’t even comprehend how much it cost you. The money, the time, the nerves. Mesh’la this was such a lovely gift.” He didn’t miss the way your eyes landed on him again, hearing the endorsement that you loved to hear from him. 

“I asked Tech not to tell you.” You finally mumbled and looked down at your hands. 

“He didn’t at first. Don’t be mad at him, he… he cares about you deeply. All of us do, you know?” 

“All of you?” He cursed under his breath hearing your question. That was a low blow, but he did deserve it, he knew. Of course you’d doubt his words. After all he has hurt you, he gave up on the two of you, before there was even a chance for something more. He deserved all the hatred and angry words, but none came. But the one thing he hated the most did come. Your soft sobs had cut through the silence and he heard his heart breaking into pieces. You were crying, because of him. Again. 

“Mesh’la.”

“Please don’t call me that… Not when…” You finally looked up and he took a step back seeing the pain in your teary eyes. Pain directed at him, directed at his past actions and into the uncertainty of the future that he brought with him, coming to see you. “What are you doing here, Echo? You haven’t talked to me for over a month. You ignored me, made me feel like I was no one to you. You just decided to cut me off from your life in one night. What have I ever done for you to do something so cruel?” Your voice raised and he realized it was just a build up frustration that finally had an opportunity to free itself. Did you come here to see me broken? Then you have brilliant timing. You’re surprised why I have your shirt on? Because it is the last reminder of you. The last thing that reminds me that you were a part of my life. Before… Before you just left with no explanation whatsoever. Do you have any idea what that did to me, Echo? Do you know how hard it is to live with yourself knowing that a man you once loved hates you?” He gasped hearing you say it out loud and despised himself for the fact that the first time you said it was because you were in pain and angry and oh, so broken. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. “So if you’re here only to thank me for that gift then you are welcome, Echo. I hope it works well for you, then you can leave. Because it isn’t easy for me to get you out of my mind and heart. 

“I did want to apologize, and I think I should have started with that.” He took a step forward and froze when you took a step back, shaking your head, not having enough in you to let him get close. “I’m so sorry, Mes…Y/N!” he screwed his eyes closed and took a deep breath. “That night was supposed to be so special, you know? I had so many plans for it. I wanted to finally ask you out, show my appreciation of you. I wanted to show you how important you were to me, how you changed me and I wished to have you see how much I care for you, How much I…” He smiled sadly and met your eyes. “How much I love you”, your eyes widened at his words and even more tears started to flow from your reddened eyes. “I can’t even describe how important you are to me and how I wished for whatever we had, had moved up the notch. I wanted to be able to call you mine, to sit here with you without trying to find a reason to. I wanted to hold you in my arms and never let you go, but I fucked up.” 

“What did I do, Echo?” 

“Nothing, cyare!” This time you didn’t move back when he took a step closer. “You did nothing! It was all me. Me and my insecurities. I…FUCK!” He hissed and started to nervously walk around. He wasn’t good with words. He was a soldier, talking about his feelings was never easy. No one ever taught him how to do it. And he never hated Kamino more than he did now, for not having any simple lessons for the Clones, about the importance of feelings. “Even before the Citadel, I never thought I would ever find anyone who would like to spend their time with me, romantically. I believed we Clones didn't have the luxury of having loved ones. I never felt worthy of someone’s love. I am a clone, a lab rat, a tool used to..” 

“Echo, please don’t say that.” He turned to you and chuckled softly in disbelief. Here you were, despite the fact that he hurt you so much, you were still protecting him. He shook his head and sighed deeply. 

“Look at you! Can you be even more perfect? Maker, I broke your heart and you still find it in you to protect me from myself. Do you know, do you have any idea how hard it was for me not to fall for you? In my eyes you are so perfect, so lovely, so charming, so damn beautiful and I’m… I’m not even human anymore. Not fully at least.” He walked towards you and took your face between hands, making you gasp feeling his touch on you. “I would have never believed that someone like you would ever be able to love me back. So when I finally felt courageous enough to ask you out… I… I saw you hugging Tech and something in me snapped. Any resemblance of wanting to feel normal, collapsed. I closed myself off and just gave up. I…” 

“There has never been and never will be anything between me and Tech.” You whispered, your hand cupping his left hand and he exhaled happily, to feel that little touch from you. 

“ I know now. I talked to Tech. I… Please…” You gasped when he kneeled down and pulled you towards him, his head laying on your stomach. “Please tell me that my insecurities didn’t fuck this up. Tell me that you have it in you to forgive me. I beg you, tell me I still have a chance of having you to myself. Please, Mesh’la, please forgive me and let me show you how much I truly love and care for you.” 

You stood there, unable to comprehend what just happened. For over a month you’ve been hoping and dreaming about this moment. Hoping for even a minute to see Echo and be able to talk to him, to know what has happened. You cried for him and wanted him so badly. But most importantly you wanted to know that he was OK, and he was happy, even if it made you miserable. You longed for him and now here he was. On his knees, begging you to forgive him and how wouldn’t you. You knew of his insecurities, he told you about how he wasn’t feeling 100% men and you were so mad when he told you what Tech told him about his machinery. But this never bothered you. He was still Echo, your Echo. Your precious, kind hearted ARC Trooper who loved to spend his evening on your couch, talking about whatever the future would bring or telling you of all these places he saw when he was in the 501st. 

“Echo, get up, please.” He shook his head, and pulled you even closer, afraid to let you go. As if he would never be able to hold you again. “Come on, I can’t kiss you when you're down there.” His head shot up and you couldn’t help but giggle at how fast he was back on his feet. 

“You… You don’t hate me?” 

“Hate you? Echo, my love, I love you so deeply. All of you, even your silly insecurities. Do you know why?” He shook his head, looking at you like you were some kind of magical creature. “Because all of this makes you, the Echo I fell for and the man I love. So of course I forgive you, but in one condition.” He connected his forehead with yours and nodded, closing his eyes in delight. 

“Anything, cyare, anything you want, it's yours.” You chuckled and looked him in the eyes. 

“If you ever feel jealous again, how about you talk to me, before going MIA, OK?” He laughed at that and before you were able to do anything more, he crashed his lips with yours in a desperate, beautiful and so longed for kiss. First of many to come between the two of you. 

[davnittbraes]

The Fourth Step - Chapter Thirty-Four

Part of The World Is Light, Embodied.

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5100

Warnings, etc.: anxiety, angst, mentions of strict religious code in a negative context, fluffy fluff, silly banter because it’s these two, SMUT, Mando’s Fingering Skills™️, squirting, a good old fashioned prone bone, I’ve always wanted to use that sentence somehow and I’m delighted to have finally done so, tender afterglow moment that hurt my heart to write

Notes: this chapter is like a parfait - a layer of domesticity, a dollop of heart-to-heart conversation, a whole-ass scoop of sexytimes and a cherry on top of introspection. Enjoy and please brush your teeth afterwards.

Mando’a translations at the end of the chapter.

Please check out the Series Masterlist page for more info.

“Well, pfassk.” 

You press down on the lid of the storage crate again, but it still doesn’t quite close enough for the latches to catch. 

Throwing the lid open, you glare at the contents inside. “Which one of you is causing the problem?”

Quiet is the only response, the contents silent and the ship’s engines a gentle hum in the background. The kid’s soft babbling drifts down from the cockpit, and Din’s muffled reply. 

You’d taken on the task of putting away the supplies you’d bought on Nevarro while he ran diagnostics on the Crest or some other such mechanical wizardry. And since the kid had a habit of climbing into small spaces when you weren’t looking - that time he’d locked himself in a crate still makes your stomach turn with anxiety - Din had removed him from temptation.

It’s good for you, having something to keep your hands and mind busy right now. 

Those emotions that have been simmering for a couple days are close to the surface, but it’s going to take time and concentration to talk through them. Not something you want to try with a mischievous little green dude constantly pulling your attention. 

But that’s ok, you can wait until the kid goes to bed. 

You know Din will be there to listen, whenever you’re ready. 

Reaching into the crate, you move around the rations you’d just stacked inside, taking the first few off the top and sliding them into a small gap toward the back. 

Your gaze snags on something unfamiliar. 

A large, grey box underneath where you had first put the rations. 

You had somehow missed it before, but now it’s a glaring strangeness. Nervousness flutters in your stomach - given the type of people you and Din are trying to avoid, a random box showing up on the ship is probably not a good sign. 

There’s a flap or something sticking out of the top - a scrap of paper? 

Carefully, you pull it free, trying not to shift the box too much. 

It has writing on it, scrawling, uneven letters but you can read it -

You might act like teenagers but your backs definitely aren’t young anymore. Take care of yourselves, my friends.

Understanding slices through the nerves. 

Cara Dune. 

She must have snuck this in while helping you load up supplies, just before you’d left Nevarro. 

Your smile shifts into a grin as you pull the grey box out into the open, see the words printed on the side. 

Anticipation trips your heartbeat. 

Suddenly you’re looking forward to the kid’s bedtime for another reason. 

*****

Your heart keeps up its fluttering throughout the day, though its reason alternates between excitement and nervousness. 

The kid is thankfully well-behaved, and adorably grateful when you tuck his stuffed frog that you’d found into his pod. At some point in the last few weeks, the toy had ended up beneath a shelf and despite you and Din searching for the better part of an hour, it had remained there until you’d moved it while rearranging the hold. 

Now, the kid is snuggled into his hammock, stuffed frog clutched in his tiny clawed hands, breathing even and slow as sleep finally pulls him away from the world. 

Your gaze lingers on the frog. 

A flash of memory - 

Din, sifting through a small box full of trinkets, odds and ends that Cara’s recruits had gathered while they cleared the Aqualish raiders from the sewers that had once been his home. 

I know the child it belongs - belonged to. She would want you to have it.

The guilt that had dulled his voice, then his confession that he blamed himself for the deaths of so many of his people. 

You had tried to find the words to lessen the weight of his guilt, but it’s woven through his sense of obligation to his people, so firmly embedded you don’t think he’ll ever be truly free of it. 

Because he’ll never let go of that obligation.

The well of emotion you’ve been keeping just under the surface roils, threatens to break through.

“I could hear you thinking from the cockpit.”

His natural gentle rasp is obvious even through the helmet’s modulator, soothing and familiar enough that you don’t startle as you realize he’d come down the ladder without you hearing him, too lost in thought to see he’s standing right next to you until this moment. 

You smile, though it feels weak. “Sorry. I’ll try to be quieter next time.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He runs a finger gently along the edge of the hammock in a wordless goodnight to the kid, then keys the bunk door closed and takes off his gloves, tucking them into his belt. “I’ll listen, whenever it gets too loud.”

Your smile is genuine this time, gaze lingering in the curve of his helmet under the dim lights, seeking his gaze behind the black visor. “I know you will.”

His hands cup your face, warm and reassuring. You revel in his touch for a moment, breathing deep, then grasp them, press a kiss to a palm before curling your fingers around them and holding them against the place where your heart pounds at your ribcage. 

You need to feel those hands, close, steady, as you let that well of emotion rise to the forefront. 

He waits, ever patient, watching you. 

Always watching you. 

Funny how it used to make you uncomfortable. 

Now it reminds you that he sees you. 

He sees you. 

And he trusts you to be honest with him. To be in this together. 

A single deep breath, your heartbeat thudding as your lungs expand and contract. 

Talk to him. 

You meet his gaze behind the visor. “I know what I was feeling, the other day. When you said Karga had a lead on the location of other Mandalorians.” Your head shakes a little, negating your own words. “I know what I’m still feeling.”

He doesn’t speak, a soft squeeze of your hands all the encouragement you need. 

“It’s a lot of things, actually. Not just one feeling - no, wait.” You pausing, looking inward, parsing through the buzz of emotion. “I think it feels like a lot of things because it’s so much, but when I look deeper, past all the noise, I can see what it really is.”

A subtle shift, he edges closer to you, thumbs stroking over the backs of your hands. 

The noise clears, sharpens, realizes. 

You swallow past the threatening lump in your throat. “It’s fear. I’m afraid, Din.”

Tension twitches his fingers, the helmet tilts slightly. “Afraid of what?”

The words almost get stuck, snag on your tongue, it’s so tempting to push them back and say something else, something that hurts less to voice out loud but you can’t, you have to say them or they’ll eat you from the inside out, you know that now. He’s shown you that. 

Another swallow, the lump is persistent, tears prick the corners of your eyes. “Losing you.”

A pause, like he’s thinking of what to say, then his voice drifts softly between you. “Where are you afraid I’ll go?”

Kriff, he couldn’t just give some sweet reassurance, some insistence that he’s not going to leave you so you can have the excuse to turn the conversation - he cuts right to the root of it all. 

Your words shake a little despite your best efforts. “With them. With your people.”

His hands grip yours tight, as if he’s trying to emphasize the truth behind what he’s saying. “Where I go, you go.”

And you wish that was enough, the firmness in his voice enough to dull the doubt edging that ice-cold well of fear that’s rising quickly but it’s not. “But will they let me go with you? Will they let us be together?”

“They -“

It all pours from you in a rush, disjointed and sharp. “I love you, Din, just as you are, as the man and the Mandalorian. And I would never - but I’m not Mandalorian, I don’t think I can be, I can’t follow The Way like you do, it just doesn’t feel right, for me, but I don’t want to lose you and -“

“I don’t expect you to swear The Creed.” That firmness is still there but stronger, strengthened by steel-wrapped honesty. 

Even that’s not enough and fear keeps rising, bubbling out of you. “Can you say for sure that neither will they?”

Silence, thick and heavy, tension no longer just twitching but pulling his grip tight.

Damning, telling silence that says what you fear the most. 

Too late, he lessens his grip, helmet shaking side to side once. “It doesn’t matter what they say.”

Tears blur your vision and you keep going. “But it does, it has to, and that’s ok. They’re your people, they saved your life, raised you, protected you. I -“ the words actually do stick this time, you have to push them out - “I can’t ask you to choose between your people and me.”

“If I have to choose, then I’ll always -“

“Don’t.” Your hands fly free of his, press against his breastplate, desperate to stop his next words. “Don’t say it, please. You can’t possibly know what might happen in the future. Please don’t say something you might regret.”

A finger nudges your chin, you open your eyes - when had you closed them? - and he’s there, still there, with you. 

For now. 

His finger curls under your chin, thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. “I know how I feel about you. And I know nothing can happen that will change that.”

Your eyes squeeze shut again, you can’t look at him, already seeing him slipping away -

“Tionas.”

The word cuts through your fear, sharper, straight to your heart. 

That single word, become a term of endearment, with a deeper meaning. An identity. 

You. 

The real you, not a face you put on, not a mask you wear. 

He sees you.

He knows you. 

He loves you. 

Your lungs burn as you breathe, and you focus on it, feel the fear cracking with the movement, the warmth of his fingers on your skin thawing the doubt and flooding your chest. 

“Nothing and no one can come between us.” His voice is full of that love, the source of that firmness he’s been speaking with. “We are one when together, we are one when parted. Remember?”

You open your eyes, look into his gaze behind the familiar black visor. The light bleeds into the silver of his beskar, almost illuminating it from within, making him glow through the blur of your tears. 

A light. A star in the night sky. 

A man you love.

A man who loves you. 

Your heart stumbles, those words resonating through your body, pulling forth the memory of the Mando’a that has cemented itself in your thoughts. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome.”

He cups your face once again, fingertips brushing away the tears that have slipped down your cheeks, and steps forward, leans his forehead against yours. The cool of the beskar on your skin anchors you back in the moment, the unknown future relegated to where it should be. 

Right here, right now, with him - is where you should be. 

Your smile is full of a sudden lightness, weight of emotion letting go. “Thank you. For listening. And for reminding me that I’m safe with you.”

His breath catches, barely heard through the modulator, but there. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

All that emotion finally melts away, leaving you to feel his hands on your face, the nearness of his broad frame. 

And the knowledge of what you have waiting for him in the hold. 

Excitement finally wins out as the last of the dark thoughts fades, bolstered by the need to be close to him after letting your emotions scrape so raw. 

Your hands slip down his breastplate, skim up his sides. “Take me to bed?”

“Gladly.” He lets his fingers trail down your neck as he pulls away, a wordless promise of more when he gets to his destination. 

Anticipation makes you bite your lip, feet light as you move to the corner of the hold where your shared blankets used to be, him close behind. 

You can hear the moment he sees it, bootsteps faltering, stopping. 

His modulated voice, lilting with surprise, floats over your shoulder as you continue on. “What is this?”

You can’t stop the little bubble of laughter from slipping past your lips as you dramatically throw yourself onto the bed. “A gift from our good friend, Cara Dune. Our best friend now, actually. I’m sure you agree.”

The mattress bounces just slightly underneath you, not by any means plush and luxurious, but far better than a few blankets on durasteel. Those same blankets you’d made up the bed with, so the scent of both you and Din already permeates this new nest of sorts. 

Your hands smooth out a wrinkle in the blankets. “It’s a travel bed, barely big enough for two but, in fact, big enough, and that’s all that matters. Plus, it folds back into the box it had came in, which is convenient if we ever do need the extra room in the hold.”

He moves toward you, bootsteps now steady and sure, helmet tilting as he examines the bed frame. “Looks sturdy enough.”

You look at him, catching the deepening rasp in his voice. “Only one way to find out.”

Two more steps and he’s kneeling on the bed, casually sliding his hands up your legs to push them apart, settle on his knees between them. “And what way would that be?”

Want tingles down your thighs and across your hips, lifting them slightly, seeking more of his touch, and you raise an eyebrow as you look up at him. “Playing coy? Is this something you picked up watching those HoloNet dramas you love?”

It’s a blur of motion and suddenly you’re pressed front down into the bed and he’s straddling your thighs. “Mir’sheb.”

You arch your back into his grip as large hands cup your ass. “You love my sheb.”

He groans, a low vibration that shoots straight to your core. “I do. And I love these pants you wear, let me see everything. Love to watch you walk in front of me, climb the ladder to the cockpit, bend over to get one of the kid’s toys -“

“Crikking hells, Din.” Heat swarms over your skin, his words burning a path straight to your core, inner walls clenching hard around nothing and clit throbbing at the emptiness. 

One hand slides down in-between your thighs, cups your already wet heat through your clothes. “Love this pussy, too, always ready for me.”

His fingers press over your clit and you gasp for air, pleasure sparking up your spine. “Pfassk, need you, please -“

“You don’t want to tease me some more?”

A faint laugh pushes past your racing heartbeat, head swimming with building lust, hips rolling to find that friction against his fingers. “Sick of teasing, too much of that going on right now.”

He clicks his tongue. “Mir’sheb again.”

You look at him over your shoulder, all broad shoulders and shining beskar and helmet tilted playfully and you want him so bad it hurts. “Well, you know what to do about that.”

His hand slips from between your thighs and despite knowing what’s coming next you moan at the loss, forehead falling to press against the blankets. 

He hooks his fingers over the waistband of your leggings and underwear, tugging them down in one smooth motion, stopping at your boots to yank off the whole tangle of clothing. 

Your pulse flutters so hard in anticipation that you can feel it pressing against the delicate skin of your throat. A twist of something else sends goosebumps rippling down your bare legs. 

He’s seen you like this before, but not often - your intimacy is usually shared in the dark of the night cycle, the day to day motions of life not allowing for much else. 

Being laid out this way, now, even with your torso still covered by your shirt - something about the vulnerability of letting him see you like this, exposed, amplifies the growing throb between your thighs. 

The thunk of your clothes and boots hitting the floor is followed by the whisk of cloth being pulled free, then he’s guiding your hips up with one hand while pushing his bunched up cowl under them. 

Your thighs twitch with the gentle scrape of the fabric, again when his hands trace the movement up the back of your legs, long fingers grasping the curve of your hips to settle you in place. 

It’s endearing, a little frisson of sweetness and caring that curls into your growing arousal, flares with the knowledge that he always considers your comfort. 

Then he’s back on you, not between your thighs as you thought he would be but straddling them again, pressing them tight together between his own as he slides a finger through your slick folds and all your musings of endearing sweetness fizzle out in the rush of heat that courses through your veins. 

He presses his finger into your clenching entrance, his groan of satisfaction mingling with your whimper as it sinks deep. 

Oh pfassk -

The calloused fingertip slowly drags along your inner walls and pleasure surges as he grazes over that spot, the one that he seems to find every time he buries his fingers inside you and your hands clutch at the blankets, your hips arching sharply into his touch. 

Another thick finger slips in alongside the first and you keen into the blankets. Your voice cracks as you rock back into him. “More, please, need more -“

He smoothes his free hand over the curve of your ass. “Mmm, you know I love to hear you beg, mesh’la.”

Pleasure sparks as his thumb swipes over your clit with each thrust, steadily pushing you closer to the edge. “Yes, like that, please, pfassk so good -“

Over and over his fingers drag along your inner walls, his thumb circles your clit so perfectly and you can feel it, tightening your core. 

He shifts but doesn’t let up his rhythm, the hard length of his cloth-covered cock pressing into the sensitive skin of your thighs. “Fuck, you’re going to come for me already, aren’t you?”

The feeling of his hard cock grinding over your thigh, evidence of his pleasure simply from watching you take your own shoves you right to the brink. “Yes please don’t stop gedet’ye - “

His fingers twist and push and your entire body shudders as they hook right over that spot and pulse in time with your racing heartbeat, shoving waves of heat through your core -

The intensity tears a cry from your throat and it’s so much a hot blinding wall of pleasure that’s pushing you further and further -

Your hands scrabble at the blankets as the pressure builds. “Din -“

“Let go, cyar’ika, come for me.”

The squelch around his fingers grows louder, filling your ears, layering into the steady stream of nonsensical sounds that’s falling from your lips and wet heat floods your core -

Crikking hells -

A burst of pleasure so bright it whites out your vision -

It screams through your body and you fall. 

Bright hot wet -

Lungs gasp for air, aching, the release shuddering every muscle.

His fingers pull out in a rush of slick and your pussy clenches at the loss, clit throbbing as the wet heat engulfs it. 

The hand on your ass squeezes, fingertips digging. “Fuck, kar’ta, I need to be inside you -“

Your head turns instinctively, mouth pulling free of the blankets. “Yes fill me up, gedet’ye, Din.”

He groans at your words, hands leaving you, the rustle of fabric reaching through your pleasure-soaked awareness and want instantly starts building again, rippling through your core. 

A shift and his weight is moving up the backs of your thighs, a thumb pulling apart your slick folds and -

The smooth head of his cock presses to your fluttering entrance -

A push -

Oh pfassk -

His hands grasp desperately at your waist. “So tight, I -“

He cuts off as his cock sinks another inch into your slick heat, and your eyes roll back with the slow thrust, the stretch is incredible with your legs pressed together like this and you can’t breathe it’s so good. 

A roll of his hips shoves him deeper and every muscle in your body goes slack, all focus directed to the thick of his cock shoving your tight cunt open for him.

Pleasure burns in your core with the throb of an ache and air finally rushes into your lungs as his hips press against your ass. 

Your cunt instinctively squeezes, body pleading for more and he rocks into you, his own instincts obviously driving him to move and yes you want that -

His weight presses you down into the mattress and you can’t move but a tilt of your hips shifts him inside you and the growl that cracks through the modulator makes you whimper with need.

The hands on your waist smooth down your back, catching on the fabric of your shirt. “Easy, cyar’ika, you’re so tight like this, need to let you adjust -“

Your inner walls suddenly clench, so tight it almost hurts but feels so good and you keen into the blankets, rocking back into him. 

Words spill from your lips, muffled and rough with pleasure. “It’s ok move please need you to move -“

He thrusts deep, a sharp snap of his hips that almost feels involuntary and your pussy clenches around his cock and the tension breaks -

His hands leave your back and he plants them on either side of your head, steadying as he pulls back and shoves deep again -

Yes yes yes -

Again and again -

The cowl shifts slightly underneath your hips and a fold of cloth grazes your clit and your voice wavers with cry of pleasure. “Right there yes right there -“

His grunt cracks through the modulator as your orgasm looms, cunt pulses around his cock. “Fuck -“

The bed creaks as he steadies his pace to deep, driving thrusts that slam against that spot every time and grind the cowl against your clit and crikking hells -

Pleasure so big and heavy it’s intimidating builds in your core and you’re swept away in it. Your hands grab at his, grip his wrists, hold on tight.

Din -

His voice rasps in your ear, cool steel of his helmet brushing your cheek. “Come for me, soak my cock, please -“

Pleasure cracks and spills and -

Wet hot heat erupts down your spine and trembles through your thighs and tightens your core and gushes from your spasming pussy. 

He growls, the sound stuttering as he picks up his pace. “So good, does it feel good, love?”

You murmur something in response but the words aren’t clear to your own ears, static noise of overwhelming pleasure drowning out everything except the sharp grunts punching through the modulator with every snap of his hips, the squelch of his cock pulling more and more slick from your pulsing cunt, the wet slap of his soaked flightsuit smacking against the bare skin of your ass. 

Waves of pleasure crash over your body again and again, it won’t stop, relentless, and it’s so good tears squeeze from the corner of your eyes and a sob catches in your throat and he thrusts again once twice more -

Then he’s slowing, cock pulsing against your still-fluttering walls, warmth of his spend flooding your hot core and finally it breaks -

You gasp as your body wrings a last wave from your orgasm, squeezing around his cock once more before releasing you from the grip of pleasure. 

He pants for breath above you, arms trembling, helmet dipping to rest on your shoulder for a moment before he’s pulling away. 

Hands smooth down your back in a silent apology - he knows how much you love keeping him inside you after, he loves it just as much - and you know you’d normally whine in protest but you can’t find the focus to do that right now, too blissed out to do anything but lie there. 

He moves behind you, a different kind of groan vibrating deep in his chest as he falls onto his side next to you, bouncing lightly on the mattress. 

Your smile is immediate, seeing that familiar black visor come into view, and you work up the energy to wriggle closer to rest your forehead against his, sighing in contentment when he slides a hand down your back to soothe already pleasantly sore muscles.

A long moment passes, just you and him, breaths steadying and heartbeats falling into sync. Your fingers inch toward him to bump against the helmet, fingertips tracing the beskar over where his mouth is. 

The urge to kiss him, taste him, feel his lips on yours is a deep ache in your bones, but you don’t want to ask him to take off the helmet, never want to push him to do something that holds so much meaning for him. 

Instead, you let yourself bask in the quiet, the softness of the bed and how it molds to your body, the scent of the two of you filling your lungs, and the solid nearness of Din. Let this moment soothe the rawness that emotion had left behind, fill those cracks and gaps until there was something solid to lean on. 

Cool air swirls against your bare skin and you can’t stop the shiver that runs through your body. 

He follows the movement, dipping between your thighs to glide his fingertips through the mess there. “Should get cleaned up.”

A soft snort of laughter slips out, words finally coming back into focus. “That’s a project I’m not feeling up to at the moment.”

His fingers drag over the plush flesh of your ass, leaving a trail of wet slick and come as he hums in agreement. “Think my cowl caught most of it anyway.”

“Worth it?” The twinge of embarrassment and guilt that twists in your stomach fades almost immediately, his huff of laughter brushing it away. 

“Yes, tionas. Definitely worth it.”

*****

He wishes there were words for it. 

For how he feels about you. 

‘Love’ just isn’t quite… enough. It’s too light, too small of a word for the depth of this ache in his chest. 

Though it does sound much bigger when you say it. 

I love you, Din. 

You’d murmured the words as sleep took you, soft lips brushing his hand that you’d tucked under your cheek. 

Those words had tripped his heartbeat, guided him to pull you closer into the curve of his body. The way your ribs had expanded in a contented sigh under his arm as you’d settle back against him had sent a tremor of emotion through his chest. 

He had pressed a kiss to your neck, letting you feel the words as he repeated them back to you. 

I love you, too. 

No, those words are not enough. 

He’s given you so much already - his secrets, his trust. The privacy that he’d held so close for all of his adult life. 

And yes, his heart. 

Still, not enough. 

He would give you everything.

His eyelids flutter open, staring unseeing into the darkness of the hold. 

Everything. 

There’s that word again. 

Everything is different with you. 

And it has been, since the day he first saw you. 

The world had been dark and dull, endless days of struggle and pain and guilt. 

And then it wasn’t. Because you were in it. 

As if a light had suddenly shone directly on him, warm and bright.

That light gleams in your gaze when you look at him. 

Everything is different with you. 

No. 

Some things are the same. 

He’s still Mandalorian. He still follows The Way of the Mandalore. 

A thought catches on the outskirts of his mind, itching, worming deeper. 

The Way has always been his fate, the path he must walk. 

It would have him dedicating his life to his people, foregoing all else in service to the true Mandalorians. 

It would have him walk his path alone. 

Because he knows - he knows, with absolute certainty, he will never find another like you, let alone one who follows The Way. 

Someone who sees him, his guilt and his shame and his inner torment, torn between the ideals that had saved his life and the love that had shown him how to live. 

Someone who loves all of him. 

There’s only you. 

And if given the choice between that which would resign him to a path of solitude and darkness simply because of a few words spoken when he was too young to know what he was giving up or the one who would sacrifice her own happiness before forcing that choice on him…

Well. 

His path is now brightly lit and clear before him. 

Nothing will pull him from it. No one will. 

His thoughts shift, some part of him seemingly satisfied with that conclusion. 

The memory of your eyes, wide with fear, tears blurring that gleaming light. 

He sighs, catching the movement at the last minute so as not to wake you. 

He’s tired of seeing fear and doubt in your eyes. 

It makes sense, he knows why it’s so often there. 

You’ve lost everything you’ve ever had, whether directly by someone else’s hand or by your own, twisted into action by thoughts planted in your mind by the hatred of others. 

He understands why you doubt. Question. 

Expect loss even when it doesn’t come. 

He knows you need reassurance. 

More than just his simple, too-small words. 

Realization washes over him, chilled and warm at the same time. 

He stops breathing.

There are words for it. To describe how he feels about you. 

To show you, and his people, and the entire galaxy what you mean to him. To each other. 

To protect the two of you from anyone who would try to come between you.

Yes, there are words for exactly that purpose.

The memory of your lips forming the first part of those words pins the thought to the forefront of his mind. 

You don’t know their context.

But he’ll give it to you. 

He would give you everything. 

***** Mando’a translations:

Tionas - question 

Mesh’la - beautiful

Cyar’ika - sweetheart

Kar’ta - heart 

***** Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[alltheirdamn]

WIP GAME

RULES: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

thank you for the tag @mermaidgirl30 xoxo 💛

- kms 10 (obviously)

- Tights

- Lilies

- American Teenager

- Javi drabble

- Sweepstakes (pt. 1 & pt. 2)

- Mando (hard chapter) > i need to finish ABFR

I also have a lot for a personal WIP/ one I’ve written that I might try and use as a Javi x reader fic… but a lot of these are just so random & just named without any work included 😭

anyway, NP tags xoxo @endlessthxxghts @joelsgreys @joelmillerisapunk @lotusbxtch @yxtkiwiyxt

[moon-sang]

I recently saw ur requests open hehe, it's time to go back into my Din phase :D

I'm a fan of stranger things... so

Possibly... Din meets a teenage girl/boy in the rain (like how mike meets eleven) and invites them on the Crest, and just finding out that they have no family and then adopting the girl/boy, I think this would be adorable <3

Welcome To My Family, Kid

Thank you, anon, for giving me... something to do XD

SUMMARY: After an engine failure Din crashes on an isolated planet, where it constantly rains. After managing to fix the Crest he spot something in a bush... or rather...someone.

WARNINGS: Angst, Fluff, reader is gender neutral, small bruises on reader, Reader is an adolescent, pls tell me if I miss anything!

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

Great, just great.

An engine failure. Just what Din needed when he was tracking a bounty. Din clutches the lever tighter, in frustration. "Hold on kid, it's gonna get bumpy." Din sighs. On queue the Crest jostles and just drops, at full speed, the Crest fell through the sky, Din tried his best to control it, despite the cheers coming from Grogu. Eventually the Crest slowed down and skited across a foreign muddy planet. All Din could see was the sticky coffee brown rubble push up against the now cracked windows.... until it came to a stop, and the Crest laid, almost completely submerged in soaked mud.

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

You peeked through the small bush you hid under. Smoke consumed the already grey sky, the smell illuminating your nostrils, making you slightly cough. You sigh, ready to ravage through the new ship. Your clothes were drenched in dirt, mud, and water dripped down the hem of your shirt. trickles of rain-water rushed down your jaw, meeting at your chin and then dripping onto your clothes. You needed to get into that new ship, it would start hailing soon, and you weren't going to risk any more bruises.

Grabbing your small knife (which you used to cut wires to salvage), you make your way over to the ship. This was a big one. You think. A ship this big hasn't crash-landed on this planet since you were 5 years of age.

Being careful not to trip over any broken parts of the ship, you make your way to the interior of this mysterious ship. As you approach the hatch it opens before you. Was it automatic? Did it somehow sense you and open for you? You pondered. But you were wrong about both. Out of the dark shadows of the ship came an armoured man. terrified of the unexpected appearance you bolt to the nearest shrub.

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

Din's eyes drunk in every detail of the new planet. Rain. Constant rain by the looks of it. He remembers a planet he had been to that was similar to this one, chasing one of his first bounties. A small rustling in a nearby bush pulled Din back to reality. On instinct the Mandalorian hunter pulls his blaster out, aiming it at the moving bush. Out of the shrub came a young person. A teen by the looks of it. Their hands were raised, mouth agape in fear. Din pushes his blaster back into the holster and stalks near the young person. As he came nearer to them he noticed more. Like how their eyes were near black, except for the small e/c crescent that loomed at the bottom of their iris. As Din moved forward the person moved back slowly. Din slowly raised his hands in a harmless way. "I-it's ok, i won't hurt you kid." In defence they lifted the blunt knife they held and aimed it at the Mandalorian. "S-stay away!" they retort, continuously walking backwards. Din ignores them and instantly notices the sharp rock behind them. "STOP WALKING BACK!" Din shouts, weary of what may happen. Afraid the kid picks up the pace, tripping right over the rock. A loud shriek filled the air, and Din immediately rushed over to the kid. Sobbing in the freezing cold rain the child inspects their hand, now drenched in a mixture of blood and water. Din gently examines their wounded palm, the kid gives in to his warmer touch. "It's not too deep, luckily." Din huffs out. Without a word Din lift the kid up and brings them into the Crest, the kid half-heartedly complies.

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

The Mandalorian seats you on a narrow bed, and patiently you wait. Your eyes roam around the ship. It is spacious you note mentally. A few crates were littered around, here and there, but other than that it was pretty much spotless. You could feel the water on you leaking through the mattress, but you couldn't find it in you to move, you hadn't been this comfortable for ages.

After a few more seconds of waiting the man covered in beskar returns. The flickering light of the Crest bounced off of the rare metal he wore. A roll of bandage was held firmly in his hand. "Can I have your hand please." The enigma Mandalorian asks. You slowly nod and give him your hand.

After a few minutes your hand was completely wrapped and ready to go. You sighed in relief. "Thank... you." you manage to croak out, voice coaxed in tiredness. Din nods in acknowledgment. "Where is your family, kid?" Mando hesitantly questions. You don't reply, instead you slam a hand, scrunched into a fist, on your other hand, violently. Mando cocks his head in confusion. "Dead." You state rather flatly. Mando nods.... in understanding. "You need to change, you'd be freezing, I imagine." Mando states. You nod slowly. "Come on then." Your head shoots up. "What?" You question. "You have no one.. correct? I mean, unless you want to stay on this planet, i'm offering you a place here, with me, and my other kid." Mando states. His voice was like honey, despite the modulator. Without a second thought you nod your head. ".....Thank you."

Obviously by the end of it he manages to fix the Crest :)

Ok I got a lil lazy near the end, but I hope it's still enjoyable!

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Clan of Three - Chapter 2

Chapter Two: The Sin

Plot: A Mandalorian, an infant with a history of the jedi, and a teenager with similar powers with an undiscovered lineage. An unlikely group to travel the galaxy together.

Word Count: 4.3K

Pairing: Father Figure!Din Djarin x Platonic!Teen!Reader

Warnings: Fighting, betrayal, angst, violence/injuries, Mando being a father

------

A Mandalorian, an infant creature, and a teenage girl from Tatooine. No one had expected the three to meet and be the bounties the hunter was delivering to. The ship owned by the bounty hunter exits hyperspace over Nevarro. He had to admit whatever the kid did had improved the speed of being in hyperspace, the travel being cut down. The sound of a call from the hologram is Greef, “Mando. I've received your transmission. Wonderful news. Upon your return, deliver the quarry directly to the client. I have no idea if he wants to eat it or hang it on his wall, but he's very antsy. Safe passage! You know where to find me.” The transmission ends leaving the Mandalorian in silence, he turns to see you still asleep before he hears a cooing noise. Looking back to see the small child playing with a ball from one of the levers.

Mando reaches over grabbing it as it makes a sound of sadness, “It’s not a toy.” He places the ball back onto the level the child staring at it as he takes the ship down to the planet below.

The shaking of the ship wakes you from a dreamless sleep you rub the sleep off your face seeing Mando flipping switches and shutting off the ship, “Where are we?” You mumble letting out a yawn and stretching your arms out. He stands up heading towards the ladder,

“We’re on Nevarro.” The name of the planet was one you weren’t familiar with, you hardly knew the planets in your systems. You follow down below the child’s carrier floating behind you as you enter the cargo hold. Mando presses a button along the wall and the ramp of the ship goes down. The black sands are the first thing you notice the smell of fire deep in the air but no one seemed bothered by it. You follow behind Mando trailing slightly taking in everything, you felt like a child born into the world. Nothing looked familiar to you and the people around you none you’d ever seen.

“So what are we doing here? Getting more supplies before we travel to Tatooine?” You ask running up beside him as he stays silent the people around him moving out of the way just by his presence. He turns down an alley which you have to stop and follow with how quickly he turned and disappeared down it, but you could see the wisp of his cape. Finding him standing outside a building the child in his carrier beside him. “So is this your place or somewhere we’re staying?” You say looking around the alleyway seemed like no one came around here which was weird.

A small hole opens beside the door and a droid pokes through, Mando holds up a disc and a red light from its eye scans it. It makes a noise of confirmation retracting back. A few seconds passed confusing you why the doors didn’t just open when they open revealing two stormtroopers, their armor scuffed and dirty. You instantly take a step back your eyes widening seeing people apart of the empire. A hand stops you from moving farther back and you look up at Mando seeing he was the one to stop you.

“Mando what are you doing with…” Your voice trails off as it hits you and he could tell you noticed. You push off him trying to grab the child and run off when strong hands from one of the troopers grab you pushing you inside the building the other roughly yanks the cradle.

“Easy with that,” Mando says looking at the trooper handling the child glancing back and seeing the other slamming you against the wall pinning your hands behind your back as you struggle to break free.

“You take it easy.” The trooper replies before they lead them all further into the safe house. You enter a larger room where you see an older man seated at a table with another man dressed in an imperial uniform standing beside him. You slam your head back against the trooper's helmet it letting out a shout as you push off him your hands grabbing his blaster and pointing it at the traitor the sound of weapons cocking aimed at you.

“You lying bastard!” You shout at the Mandalorian and your anger boils more unable to tell the emotion hidden behind his helmet. Did he even feel guilty?! “Should’ve killed you when I had the chance!” You shout out as he doesn’t even pull out his weapon just looking at you. The troopers around you shout at you to put the blaster down. Electricity rushes through your body as you crumble to your knees the weapon falling from your hands. Two troopers rush for you one kicking away the blaster as they pull you two your feet your body crying out in pain and numbness.

“A feisty one she is.” The older man says looking over you making you cringe in disgust. You spit at his feet and one of the troopers kicks you to your knees.

“Don’t hurt her!” The younger man says holding his hand out, he comes over and you glare at him struggling in their grasp as he pulls out a device. It pricks your neck before shining a bright red. He nods before moving over to the child.

“You touch him and I’ll rip your arms off.” You hiss out fighting in the two troopers’ grasp as the man looks at you for a second before pricking the child a cry comes from it before the device glows red as well.

“They’re health…very healthy.” The man says and the other man nods.

“Your reputation was not unwarranted.” He says while Mando looks over the two of you.

“How many fobs did you give out?” He asks and the man laughs,

“These assets were of extreme importance to me. I had to ensure their delivery” He pulls out a container placing it on the table, “But to the winner…go the spoils.” He opens the container revealing several bars of beskar. You were sold off for metal. The older man waves his hand out, “Take these two, Dr. Pershing I’m sure you’re pleased.” The doctor nods pushing the carrier holding the child off into another room as the two troopers start pulling you out of the room though you fight.

“You lying bastard! You’re no Mandalorian! I swear you’re dead to me!” You spit venom with your word as your shouts are muffled behind the closed door before it fades. The Mandalorian looks away from the door trying to get those words out of his head.

“What are your plans for them?” He speaks out and the client looks at him surprised.

“How uncharacteristic of one of your reputation, You have taken both commission and payment. Is it not the Code of the Guild that these events are forgotten?” He asks the silent bounty hunter before closing up the container of beskar and pushing it towards him, “That beskar is enough to make a handsome replacement for your armor. Unfortunately, finding a Mandalorian in these trying times is more difficult than finding the steel.” Leaving the building with a case of beskar he can’t deny the tense feeling in his chest.

The Nevarro cantina is filled with music and drinking but mainly people drinking away their lost bounty when the person that stole their reward away entered. Silence fills as he slowly enters the glares and whispers directed toward him as he stands in front of Greef. “Ah, Mando! They all hate you Mando because you’re a legend.” He greets him as the bounty hunter looks around at the glares pointed at him.

“How many of them had tracking fobs?” He asks and Greef laughs taking a sip from his drink.

“All of them! All of them! But none of them closed the deal. Only you, Mando. Only you. And with it, the richest reward this parsec has ever seen. Please sit, my friend.” He cheers him waving him to sit but the hunter hesitates his hand resting on his blaster, the armor he wore freshly made beskar from the Mandalorians, “They're all weighing the Beskar in their minds, but not me. No. I, for one, I celebrate your success. Because it is my success as well. Hell! Even I am rich. Now, how can I show my gratitude to my most valuable partner?” Greef asks his most valued hunter as he sits down taking his hand off his blaster.

“I want my next job.” He says surprising Greef, “ Next job? Take some time off. Enjoy yourself. I'll take you to the Twi'lek healing baths.” He suggest but the bounty hunter was adamant.

“I want my next job.”

“Sure. Fine. You hunters like to keep busy, right?” Greef says pulling out the multiple pucks and looking over them, “Well, these are all far away.”

“The further, the better,” Mando says wanting to get off this planet already

“Well, take your pick. You've earned it,” He says as Mando looks over the details for each puck before grabbing one, “Ah. That's the best one of the lot. A nobleman's son skipped bail. Looks like you're headed to the ocean dunes of Karnac.”

“Any idea what they're gonna do with it?” Mando asks his question not involving the nobleman’s son.

“With what?” “The kids.”

Greef shrugs taking a sip from his drink, “I didn't ask. It's against the Guild Code.”

“They work for the Empire. What are they doing here?” Mando pushes and Greef looks at the bounty hunter.

“The Empire is gone, Mando. All that is left are mercenaries and warlords. But if it bothers you, just go back to the Core and report them to the New Republic.” Mando scoffs looking away

“That's a joke.” He stands up heading for the door

The guild member looks at the bounty hunter, “Mando, enjoy your rewards. Buy a camtono of spice. By the time you come out of hyperdrive, you will have forgotten all about it.”

The empty ship echos his movement and his thoughts as he straps into his seat preparing for takeoff reaching for a lever seeing the ball on it gone, he looks back seeing it resting on the seat. Grabbing it he screws it back to the lever. In hyperspace, it will all be forgotten.

‘You’re no Mandalorian.’

Your words ring in his head as he looks over to where you sat before looking forward his hands on the controls to take off. His hands move across the board the sound of the engine humming off as the ship settles and he stands heading off the ship back into the town.

You were brought into the room by the troopers and the doctor when they strapped you down onto the table. You struggle in your restraints trying to break free. Pershing comes over with a needle making you panic and fight more into your restraints. The snap of one restraint has his eyes widening and the two troopers come over holding you down as the needle presses into your arm and you watch as your blood comes out of your body filling into small vials. You felt weak after multiple vials were taken and the straps are taken off you. The two troopers grab you by the arms dragging you out as you fail to stand throwing you into an empty storage room. You barely catch yourself from smacking into the ground before the door closes behind you locking and shrouding you in darkness. Pushing yourself to your knees and sitting against the wall you take deep breaths trying to calm your rapidly beating heart.

What did the empire want with you? Had they figured it out and that’s why Mando went after you? The thought of the bounty hunter made anger flood through your veins. He betrayed you…he left you for dead with the empire...and the child. You quickly wipe the tears that flood your eyes. You had to stay strong..you needed to fight back. You had to get out of here..you and the child.

The darkness is calming nothing but the sound of your breathing is what you can hear. A rumble shakes the room the sound far off in the distance making you hold your breath to listen. It’s quiet before another rumble and then you hear the sound of blasters. You stand up hearing the sound of shouts and gunfire before it grows quiet again. The sound of footsteps grows close to the door and you press against the wall beside the door as the door opens and light floods the room. You see a single trooper enter the room their blaster ready and you strike. You kick the back of his knee sending him crashing against the ground his blaster sliding across the room. You rush towards it when a hand latches onto your leg tripping you and you hit the ground. A cry escapes your mouth feeling your ankle twist in the wrong direction. You’re flipped over as the trooper pins you down as you try to break free his hands wrap around your throat trying to knock you out. You grab his wrists trying to pry them off looking up the blaster was just within your reach. Your hand reaches out trying to grab the blaster your fingers just brushing it when the pressure on your neck grows tighter. You bring your hand back using both of them to try to get the man off of you. Glancing up the blaster was just a hair away, you reach forward your fingers scraping it making it spin on the floor moving further away before your hand returns to the other around your neck. You could feel your body growing weak the spots of black painting your vision. Your hand grasps out begging for the weapon. The weapon slides into your hand and you swing it out hitting him against the head with it. You scramble back as he looks at you lunging towards you. Your finger presses against the trigger hitting him point-blank in the chest dropping dead.

You gasp pushing yourself against the corner, “Hey what’s taking long we have to-” The sound of a new trooper enters the room, and you pull the trigger again hitting him in the leg he cries out in pain hitting the ground. You scramble to stand and when he tries to grab his blaster you fire again and he stills. Your hands shake holding the blaster. You’ve never killed someone before, sure animals when hunting but never a person before. This person had thoughts, emotions, and life, and you took it away. You felt sick. The sound of more blaster fire makes you stand straight. You had to get out of here. The place felt like a maze as you walk through the halls seeing the aftermath of whatever fight there was, dead stormtroopers lined the halls. Your ankle cries out in pain feeling fire fill it when you put too much pressure on it. You encounter a few but you quickly shot them before they realized it was you and take advantage of your injury. Whoever was attacking this place was on a mission. You had to find the child. You found the laboratory finding it empty with only two troopers there dead. The sound of gunfire sounds loud down one hallway and you felt a sense. The child.

Mando exits the storeroom holding the child only to run into a stormtrooper. He quickly exchanges gunfire letting the bullets bounce off the beskar, shooting the trooper down the second trooper getting burned by his flamethrower. His screams filled the hall as he burns before collapsing to the ground. Turning around to head down the hallway to be at the end of a blaster pointed right between the gaps of his helmet and chest plate. One pull of the trigger and he would be a dead man. What surprised him more was seeing the cold look on your face. Your neck was covered in quickly forming bruises in the shape of hands. He could tell you were keeping pressure off one foot an injury you must have sustained.

“Give me the child and I won’t paint your brains against the wall.” You hiss one hand holding the gun, finger on the trigger the other held out to take the child who coos happily seeing you.

“You don’t understand I came here-” He starts but you cut him off, “Don’t understand that you’re a kriffing traitor? Now give me the child, I won’t ask again.” You demand your finger twitching on the trigger.

“I made a mistake, I’m sorry…you have you believe me. I promise you’ll return to your home.” Mando promises and you look at him still uncertain as you look at the beskar helmet. Your hand twitches your gaze meeting the child in his arms who is looking at you and you sense it, the feeling of trust..to trust him. The sound of a blaster fills the air and Mando stiffens before looking behind him and seeing a stormtrooper with a blaster wound in his chest before he hits the ground. You lower your weapon looking at him.

“Come on let’s go.” You say and he nods leading you through the halls before you enter the same room you arrived in when you first came here. Seeing a doorway leading outside you both moves towards it.

“Freeze! Don’t move.” A group of troopers appears and you all pause in your place, “Hands up. Drop the blaster.” They call out and you sigh dropping the blaster holding your hands up while Mando only holds one hand up.

“Wait. What I’m holding is very valuable.” Mando says as the four troopers circle you cornering you.

“He has the assets, turn and face me.” One of the troopers behind you says as you both turn around, “Now slowly get on your knees,” They order as you both begin to kneel down when you see Mando’s hand move to his wrist. Suddenly bullets that whistle in the air shoot out from his wrist taking out all of the troopers. You look around shocked seeing them all down.

“Come we have to go.” He says helping you to your feet and you wince slightly accidentally putting pressure on your bad foot, “Can you walk?” You nod waving him off and grabbing the blaster you put down.

“Yeah let’s just get off this damn planet.” You say the three of you exiting the imperial compound. You all walk through the streets trying to keep unnoticed in the shadows, you’re glued to Mando’s side using his cape to hide most of the blaster in your hand. You turn down the street right outside the landing zone seeing multiple bounty hunters armed with weapons. A man steps forward looking at Mando and you and the child.

“Welcome back, Mando!” He greets the bounty hunter beside you, did they know each other, “Now put the package down and step away from the other one.” His cheerful voice grows cold quickly and you look at the bounty hunters surrounding you all.

“Step aside. I'm going to my ship.” Mando calls out and the man shakes his head,

“You put the bounty down and perhaps I'll let you pass.” The man speaks about the child and you can see their hands hovering over their own blaster ready for the fight that was going to be inevitable.

“The kids are coming with me,” Mando responds and the man shakes his head.

“If you truly care about the kids, then you'll let them stand by the speeder and we'll discuss terms.” He warns him and you could feel the tension coming off Mando, as he looks at the speeder with an R6 astromech droid ready for the command

“How do I know I can trust you?” Mando calls out and you could see his hand shifting toward his blaster.

“Because I'm your only hope.”

Mando looks down at the child and at you and your jaw drops slightly when he hands the child off to you. You grab it with your one free arm. This couldn’t be happening he wasn’t just giving up, “Mando…” His blaster comes into his hand with a flick of his wrist he shoots one of the bounty hunters, and you feel the ground disappear underneath you as Mando rushes jumping onto the speeder carrying luggage.

“Drive. Drive!” Mando shouts out and the droid drives off. You’re quickly put down hidden behind the crates as he exchanges fire with his fellow bounty members. The sound of the blaster hitting close to you makes you jump and you see the droid fizzling its head blown off. The vehicle comes to a screeching halt sending you sliding. You hiss feeling the pain in your foot grow more painful. The bounty hunters draw in firing at the Mandalorian as he pulls his rifle off his back and he hits two hunters incinerating them.

“That's one impressive weapon!” The man that knew Mando yells out from where he was hiding.

“Here's what I'll do. I'm gonna walk to my ship with the kids and you're gonna let it happen.” Mando shouts out hidden behind one of the crates quickly shooting down a bounty hunter that tries getting a surprise attack.

“No. How about this? We take the kids, and if you try to stop us, we kill you and we strip your body for parts.” The man shouts back and the fighting continues, looking down at the child in your arms you place it down grabbing the blaster before coming up and firing out at some of the bounty hunters. You hit one of the bounty hunters letting out a cheer when pain spreads across your arm. A scream rips from your throat as you drop your blaster falling back in the speeder grabbing your arm where the bullet grazed your skin, the flesh burned from the ray. Mando looks back at you seeing you hit firing back with more urgency.

“Don't hit the target!” The man calls out seeing you get hit. You hiss in pain the cool air brushing against your wound, the blood pouring down your arm. As the bounty hunters grow closer Mando holds out his arm flames pouring out as they scream in pain burning before it runs out. You look up fear and tears brimming your eyes, was it over? He looks at you and the child before reloading his weapon and preparing for his final stand.

As you prepare for the end a large barrage of blasts comes from the air, looking up you see people donning jetpacks shooting at the bounty hunters. Your eye widens seeing the familiar helmets on them. They were Mandalorians!

One of the Mandalorians hovers over you three firing down at the bounty hunters, “Get out of here! We'll hold them off!”

“You're going to have to relocate the covert,” Mando calls out knowing the punishment of involving the Mandalorians.

“This is the Way.” He responds and all the Mandalorians including yours repeat it back in unison, “This the Way.”

He nods as the male Mandalorian takes off fighting them as he looks down at you and the child. Your arm was still bleeding and the child just looked frightened. “Come on we have to go!” He jumps off the speeder grabs the child and you jump over the side almost falling to the ground if Mando didn’t grab you. You shake your head trying to keep the pain in.

“I can’t...my foot.” You say your voice trembling and he looks around before handing you the child again and scooping you up holding you in his arms. You hold the child close to your chest your other hand wrapped around his neck. Rushing through the fighting running into bounty hunters but they are put down by Mandalorians. Seeing the ship ahead he brings the ramp down bringing you on when you hear the cocking of a blaster. Mando turns you and the child still in his arms seeing Greef pointing a blaster at you all.

“Hold it, Mando. I didn't want it to come to this. But then you broke the Code.” He says shaking his head almost disappointed in the hunter. Mando feels cornered when a blaster bolt hits Greef right in the chest. Sending him staggering toward the edge of the ramp. He looks down seeing you holding his blaster before you push your hand out and Greef is sent flying off the ship ramp rolling on the ground. Mando looks at you surprised hidden by his mask before he carries the two of you onto the ship bringing you to the cockpit and quickly taking off. The sound of blasters hitting the ship being protected by the shields as the Mandalorians provide cover fire. Sitting in your chair you see out the window the Mandalorian that spoke to you all salute Mando before flying off.

“I gotta get one of those.” Mando huffs before leaving the atmosphere. The child resting in his lap the other seated on their chair, he looks down at the kid reaching for the ball on the lever. He reaches over unscrewing it handing it to the happy child. The vast space to go off to now an enemy of the guild…the thoughts of the things he’s seen both of these kids do in his head. The kid with the mudhorn and you with Greef. They needed to lay low before he could begin to think more of it.

[anonymousewrites]

Clan of Three (Book 1) Chapter Three

Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader

Chapter Three: The Decision

Summary: Mando gets his reward but finds he is unable to let go of what he lost.

            “Put up your hood,” said Mando as he opened the hull doors. They had arrived on Nevarro, and now it was time to deliver the assets (he had to call them that, calling them children made this feel amiss, and he had a job to do).

            (Y/N) nodded silently and pulled their head over their head. The shadows casted masked their eye markings that showed they were Ushti. It also hid the fact they were so young. They looked like a regular bounty. The Child couldn’t really be hidden, but he looked as much like a creature as a human so no one on Nevarro would give him a second glance.

            Mando led them down the gangplank and began the walk into town. Beside him, the Child whined as he sensed the tension and nerves in the air. (Y/N) put their hand on the cradle for a moment to quiet him before letting go.

            (Y/N) ignored the stares Mando was attracting and attention he subsequently pulled onto them. They gritted their teeth. They could feel the pity in the people’s gazes. “Oh look, another idiot was caught by the Mandalorian. Wonder how much they’re worth” their eyes screamed. (Y/N) hated it.

            They were almost thankful when Mando turned off the main street and led them into the back alleys. At least the stares were gone, but it also meant they were in a more dangerous part of the city. Undoubtedly, this was the area the imperial officers would be hiding out in.

            Mando banged on a door, and the Child whined, his ears flattening. (Y/N) could feel their hands turn cold as the blood rushed to their legs, the desire to flee the danger gripping them.

            The security droid stuck its eye out, and Mando held up his chain code. The droid scanned the device before retreating back into the wall and unlocking the door.

            The door slid open, and two stormtroopers stepped out. The Child’s ears flattened, and (Y/N) tensed as the troopers faced them. The men nodded and led the way in. The Child whined in fear, and (Y/N) hesitated, swallowing hard. Their gaze flitted to Mando as if wondering if he would force them to go, but they quickly averted their eyes. Mando had seen it though. The three of them walked into the building as one of the stormtroopers kept guard so neither bounty could make their escape before shutting the door.

            As the cradle floated along and (Y/N) walked beside it, one of the stormtroopers grabbed their arm. “Move it,” he ordered.

            “Easy,” said Mando sharply.

            “You take it easy,” said the stormtrooper.

            (Y/N) glanced at Mando, a slight thankfulness in their eyes. It had been a long time since anyone had defended them against anything, even something this small. The next moment, however, Mando saw their walls go up again as the door of the Client’s office opened and the stormtrooper pulled them in.

            “Yes!” said the Client eagerly, his own tracking fob trilling as the vicinity of the bounties. He stood and approached (Y/N) and the Child. “Yes, yes, yes.” He grinned down at the Child in its cradle before roughly pushing back (Y/N)’s hood to examine the bounties. “Ushti. I’ve never seen one.” (Y/N) cringed, but they couldn’t get away. “Are those real?” asked the Client, speaking aloud to no one as he roughly examined (Y/N)’s burnt orange markings around their eyes.

            Beneath his helmet, Mando narrowed his eyes and took a slight step forward. It wasn’t his place, but a part of him didn’t appreciate how rough the Client was with the teenager.

            “Y-Yes, Ushti clans are known to have such markings,” said Dr. Pershing, straightening from where he’d been scanning the Child to see its health and moving to check (Y/N). The Client stepped back to allow him to scan.

            “Healthy?” said the Client.

            “The Child is very healthy, and this one is adequate, just a bit underfed,” reported Dr. Pershing.

            The Client smirked in satisfaction of everything going according to his plan. He looked at Mando. “Your reputation was not unwarranted.”

            “How many fobs did you give out?” said Mando, his voice even but laced with irritation.

            “These assets were of extreme importance to me,” said the Client. “I had to ensure their delivery. But to the winner…” He picked up a camtono container. “…go the spoils.” He clicked a few buttons and opened it to reveal a stack of beskar ingots.

            Mando walked up to it and picked up a piece to examine it.

            “Such a large bounty for such small packages,” observed the Client.

            Behind him, Dr. Pershing was directing the cradle and the Child into another room. A stormtrooper roughly pulled (Y/N) with him after Dr. Pershing. The Child cried out, and (Y/N) winced, letting out a soft breath at the forcefulness. Mando’s gaze drifted to the kids as the door of the other room snapped shut behind Dr. Pershing and the stormtroopers.

            He was silent for a moment, looking back down at the beskar before looking up at the Client. “What are your plans for them?”

            “How uncharacteristic of one of your reputation,” said the Client. “You have taken both commission and payment. Is it not the code of the Guild that these events are now forgotten? That beskar is enough to make a handsome replacement for your armor. Unfortunately, finding a Mandalorian in these trying times is more difficult than finding the steel.”

            Mando was silent as he closed the camtono and picked it up. He turned and left without dignifying the Client with a response.

l

            “I believe it will work,” said Dr. Pershing. “I’ve measured the doses and prepared the instruments.”

            “Try it on the Ushti first,” said the Client. “Then, if anything goes wrong, we still have the Child.”

            “Yes, of course, sir,” said Dr. Pershing nervously. He walked over to wear (Y/N) lay strapped to a medical table and picked up a syringe. Taking their arm, he pushed the liquid into their vein. (Y/N)’s vision swam, and although they fought to keep their eyes open, the drugs overtook their senses, and they fell unconscious.

            Their fate had been sealed.

l

            “What caused this damage?” questioned the Armorer, gesturing to Mando’s damaged armor.

            “A mudhorn,” he responded.

            “Then you have earned the mudhorn as your signet,” said the Armorer. “I shall craft it.”

            “I can’t accept. It wasn’t a noble kill,” said Mando. “I was helped by enemies.”

            “Why would enemies help you in battle?” questioned the Armorer.

            “They did not know they were my enemies,” said Mando. He paused. “One did. They understood I was hunting them. They still helped.” He couldn’t understand why since they knew he was taking them to the Client, who was using them for something insidious.

            “An honorable enemy, then,” said the Armorer. “Since you forgo a signet, I shall use the excess to forge whistling birds.”

            “Whistling birds will do well,” said Mando. “Reserve some for the foundlings.”

            “As it should be,” agreed the Armorer. “The foundlings are the future. This is the Way.”

            The Mandalorians in the room spoke in tandem. “This is the Way.”

            “This is the Way,” said Mando.

l

            Mando, standing tall in gleaming beskar armor, stepped into Greef Karga’s bar. All eyes turned to him as he walked to Karga’s table.

            Karga smiled upon seeing him. “Ah! Mando!” He gestured to the people giving Mando sour looks. “They all hate you, Mando! Because you’re a legend!”

            “How many of them had tracking fobs?” questioned Mando, all business .

            Karga scoffed and grinned. “All of them. All of them! But not one of them closed the deal. Only you, Mando. Only you. And with it, the richest reward this parsec has ever seen. Please sit, my friend.” Mando sat down across from Karga. “They’re all weighing the beskar in their minds, but not me,” continued Karga. “No. I, for one, celebrate your success. Because it is my success as well. Hell! Even I am rich!” He chuckled. “Now, how can I show my gratitude to my most valuable partner?”

            “I want my next job,” said Mando. He needed to get this commission off his mind and focus on what he was good at—bounty hunting.

            “Next job?” asked Karga. “Take some time off. Enjoy yourself. I’ll take you to the Twi’lek healing baths.”

            “I want my next job,” repeated Mando evenly.

            “Sure. Fine,” said Karga, sighing, unable to understand why Mando didn’t want to rest on his laurels. “You hunters like to keep busy, right? Well, these are all far away.” He placed some pucks on the table.

            “The further, the better,” said Mando, examining the pucks.

            “Well, take your pick. You’ve earned it,” said Karga. Mando lit up a puck to examine the bounty. “Ah!” exclaimed Karga. “That’s the best one of the lot. A nobleman’s son skipped bail. Looks like you’re headed to the ocean dunes of Karnac.”

            Mando stood and picked up the puck. He paused as he took a step away. Unable to help himself, he turned back to Karga. “Any idea what they’re going to do with them?”

            “With what?” asked Karga.

            “The kids,” said Mando.

            “I didn’t ask. It’s against Guild Code,” said Karga.

            “They work for the Empire. What are they doing here?” questioned Mando.

            “The Empire is gone, Mando,” said Karga. “All that are left are mercenaries and warlords. But if it bothers you, just go back to the Core and report them to the New Republic.”

            “That’s a joke,” said Mando.

            “Mando, enjoy your rewards,” said Karga. “Buy a camtono of spice. By the time you come out of hyperdrive, you will have forgotten all about the kids.”

            Mando turned and walked away silently, heading to the Razorcrest. He remained subdued as he sat down in the pilot’s seat. Mando powered the ship on, but when he reached for one lever, he paused. The metal ball from its top was gone. He turned and saw it rested on the seat the cradle and Child had been on. He slowly picked it up and screwed it onto the level. As he shifted, a piece of metal dug into his side. Mando picked up (Y/N)’s dagger from his belt and gazed at it. The sunlight glinted off its blade, piercing him through the air.

            Mando shut off the Razorcrest’s engine. He couldn’t leave the Child and (Y/N) with the imperial warlord. He’d feel guilty forever. They were just kids.

l

            Mando stretched out on the roof across from the Client’s building, gazing through the scope of his rifle and using it as an antenna to listen to the faint voices within.

            “I don’t care,” said the Client. “I order you to extract the necessary material and be done with it.”

            “He’s explicitly ordered us to bring them both back alive,” said Pershing.

            “There’s a spare for the reason. You have the Ushti, use them, and if they die, you have the Child,” said the Client. “Finish your business quickly, as I no longer can guarantee your safety.”

            Mando stood and retreated from the roof, going back to the door. He banged on it, and the security droid popped its eye out. Mando grabbed it from the side and twisted its scanner off. As the door slid open and stormtroopers rushed out, he moved around the corner. While the stormtroopers checked the perimeter, Mando circled around the building and placed a blast charge on the back wall. He took a few steps back and watched as it exploded and blew a whole for him to step into the building.

            The alarm blared, and stormtroopers rushed through the halls, but Mando dispatched with each enemy he encountered with Mandalorian efficiency. Finally, he opened a door and found the child lying on a bed. He cooed up at Mando, who scooped him up. That was one kid down, but he still needed to find (Y/N).

            The next door he kicked down, a stormtrooper raised a blaster, but Mando shot him quickly. Pershing was in the room as well and flinched, drawing away from the medical table where (Y/N) lay unconscious with a black imperial medical droid (also used for torture, reports said) hovered closer. Mando shot it down without a second thought.

            “No, no, please, no, no!” babbled Pershing, frightening of the bounty hunter before him.

            Mando threw him to the side and raised his blaster before looking at the unconscious Ushti teen. “What did you to do them? What did you do them?” he demanded.

            “I protected them! I protected them,” swore Pershing. “If it wasn’t for me, they’d already be dead! Please, please, please!”

            “How do I wake them up?” questioned Mando.

            Pershing raised a shaking hand and pointed at a button. “It-it should counteract the sedative!”

            “Get out,” ordered Mando, gesturing to the door with his blaster. Pershing didn’t hesitate to make a run for it. Mando leaned over and pressed the button as the Child cooed and reached for (Y/N). Come on, kid, wake up.

Taglist:

@im-making-an-effort

@gr33n-d00dles

@alexpangender

@painstakingly-juno

@treehouse-mouse

@theurbannoodle

@pedropascalsidechick

@dmitrytherat

[crumbledcastle28]

Din Djarin: On Top

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader

🚨!! SMUT!!🚨

Summary: One look at you suited up for a job, and the already cracking facade that Mando had managed to build up over the past couple of months crumbles at his feet.

Warnings: this is literally all smut, and Mando is a complete simp. Like, a complete simp. The title says it all. P in V sex and also oral (female receiving). Dirty talkkkk. Descriptions of tight clothing and blood. Please be safe and practice consent :).

A/N: this is technically a part two to Right There, but I honestly think it could be read as a stand-alone as well! Thank you so so much to anyone who supported the first part!!! I hope this meets your expectations :)

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, or reblog, it would be much appreciated <3

Part 1 | Part 2

It was pretty safe to say that both you and Mando were well known for your skill sets in your line of work.

The jobs you did together were top of the line, and most other bounty hunters would kill to have the jobs you two did. Literally.

Both of you were comfortable and confident in most of the settings you entered. You refused to let anyone intimidate you, and keeping a level head on your shoulders was another skill that you had to learn overtime. Mando felt the same.

Overall, the both of you were highly respected, both in your field and daily lives.

And so the fact that both of you were hiding from each other in your rooms was laughable.

It was truly a sight to see. The legendary Mandalorian, covered in pure beskar, with buckets of blood on his hands, was hiding in his room. He was a blushing and sweaty mess, all because a woman touched his back.

If only Greef could see him now. What a “legend”he was, right?

You were in a very similar situation.

Once you made it to your room and got yourself to calm down, your heart sped up once more at the thought of facing Mando again.

Questions about how your dynamic would change after the…erotic experience, and if he even wanted to see you again, flooded your brain. Your stomach was in complete knots, and you refused to open your door until the morning.

You were scared. Scared you fucked everything up, and even more scared that it made you feel more alive than ever.

You hadn’t felt like that in a very long time.

Once the morning lights finally showed through the Crest, you knew you had to get up and do something.

You weren’t some teenage girl with a crush anymore. You were a woman now, and a feared bounty hunter. You weren’t going to sit here and hide. You were better than that.

You repeated affirmations like that over and over again in your mind as you pulled on your tight black pants. You attached the blaster holsters to your thighs, and slid both of your weapons into the pockets. The off-white shirt you threw on was loose, but you tucked it into your pants, which made the fabric curve more around your form.

You and Mando had been on cold planets for a while before this mission. and so it felt good to show a bit of skin. It made you feel less claustrophobic, and definitely more like yourself.

You fixed your hair as best you could, tightened your boots, and took a deep breath.

I’ve got this. It’ll only be weird if you make it weird.

There were more important things than feelings anyway. Like money. And respect. And finishing this goddamn mission.

I’ve got this.

You exhaled through your nose one last time, opened your squeaky door, and walked into the helm as confidently as you could. The zippers on your boots bounced off of the leather material, and their thicker grip made a louder step than normal.

You looked and sounded powerful, even though you felt nothing of the sort.

Mando was already faced towards the controls, and thank the maker he was, because he nearly fell out of his chair at just the sound of your footsteps.

It’s not that he didn’t want to look at you, he just knew the reaction his body would have when he saw you again. He knew he would feel your hands rubbing up and down his back again, and the sound of your breath so close to his ear. He would feel the familiar strain in his pants at just your voice.

The voice that haunted his mind last night, so badly he barely slept. And when he was finally granted the gift of sleep, the dreams that followed him were indescribable.

Your hands, voice, tongue, teeth, everywhere. All over him. On top of him. Consuming him.

The cold sweat and guilt that he woke up to had followed him like a fog, and he knew it would ache even more at the physical sight of you.

He was so right.

He gritted his teeth as he spun his chair around, and his eyes danced up from your feet all the way to your face, scanning every inch that he possibly could.

The first thing that caught him was your legs.

He didn’t know if it was because he hadn’t seen you out of layers upon layers for a couple weeks, or if it was because of last night, but his jaw dropped at how well the material of your pants shaped your muscles. Your thighs and hips especially. They looked so womanly. Gorgeous.

He could only imagine what his head would be like in between them.

The blasters strapped to your thighs only made it worse.

He then dragged his eyes over your torso and chest area, and he loved how the shirt complimented your figure. Not too much, but just enough. More than enough. He wanted to see and feel the soft skin underneath the off-white color, and map it all with his tongue. He wanted it all.

And your face just threw him over the edge.

You always looked beautiful to him, always, but just the way you were looking at him was—

“Mando?” you asked huskily. You felt your heart beating underneath your chest. “What’s wrong? You’re staring at me.”

He didn’t even realize how raged his breaths had become under his helmet, and he stood up abruptly, causing you to flinch.

He couldn’t believe he was about to do this.

Something inside him had permanently snapped, and all rationality had been thrown out of the window.

The Din he knew wasn’t there anymore. At least, not fully. Not after you.

He marched over to the lighting controls, not even trying to soften his footsteps, and your eyes widened when you were surrounded by darkness.

“Mando—“ you began, but halted as a firm, leather grip pulled you forward by the waist, and cool metal pressed against your forehead.

“I need you,” you heard, so close to your face it gave you chills.

Mando’s voice was unrecognizable, and you were breathing so hard against his helmet you felt the heat of it against your face.

“I need you so bad Y/N,” he whined. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. After last night, I can’t get you out of my fucking head. How good you made me feel. I want you all over me. Everywhere.”

You may have whined and moaned quietly at this statement, but his grip on you and his cool beskar against your face made you feel so dizzy you could barely tell what was happening.

“I can’t believe how good it felt. I’ve thought you were beautiful from the beginning, but this is different. This is so much different.”

Your eyes fluttered and rolled into the back of your head at his words, and how desperate for you he sounded. A strum of heat pulsed through you at his noises.

“Let me do this Y/N. I’m begging you. Let me feel you,” he said. He begged. “I’ll make it worth it. I promise.”

You gasped as he rubbed his hands over your sides, and you nodded as quickly as you could against the metal.

“Yes,” you responded breathily, and the metal against your face immediately pulled away. It clanged against the ground, and hot breath fanned across your mouth instead.

That feeling only lasted for a second before Mando’s lips met yours, and whines and moans into each other’s mouths filled the room.

The kiss was messy and passionate, and it only got more intense when Mando’s tongue entered your mouth. He backed you into the wall, and moved his hands over every inch of your body. His breaths and rushed kisses made your mind go blank, and you could already feel your body pulsing.

He squeezed your thighs before grasping behind your butt, lifting you into the air with ease. He pulled away from your mouth to breathe for a second, before he met your lips again with even more passion than before.

It was perfect. The both of you were so beyond desperate for each other, and the tension from the night before only proved that.

Maybe that was what snapped when Mando looked at you.

Mando kept you propped up against the wall with one arm, and wrapped the other around your waist for stability. You kept up with his kisses as best you could, and moved your hands up from his chest to comb through his hair. You felt goosebumps arise on his scalp, and the moan he let out was enough for you to keep going.

“Keep doing that,” he said when he finally broke away, and moved his mouth to your neck instead. You scraped your nails into his curls, and pressed his head against your neck even harder, encouraging him keep going. The heat in your underwear was only growing needier, and you didn’t know how long you could keep this up.

Mando didn’t either.

“I’m gonna move you,” he said, and pressed a searing kiss to your lips once again as he picked you up from the wall. He walked you over to the pilot’s seat once more, and never allowed his mouth to leave yours. He let himself fall into the chair, and you wrapped your legs around his hips when he finally sat.

The bulge in his pants rubbed against you, and you both let out a groan at the feeling.

“I want you on top,” Mando said, and you nodded with a grin.

“Me too,” you whispered, and Mando knew he was beyond gone for you.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mumbled. You giggled at his statement, and he worked his hands underneath your shirt.

“Take it off,” you said to him, and he happily obliged. The cool air hit your bare body, and the feeling of Mando’s leather gloves against your breasts was heaven.

“Take them off,” you asked, and Mando peeled his gloves off as quickly as he could. His rough hands combed over your bra, gently, and your hands squeezed his shoulders.

“I want you naked first,” Mando said. “Is that alright?”

“Mhmm,” you mumbled, and Mando went to work.

He tore off your bra and pressed your breasts to his mouth, kissing and sucking them slightly. The noises you made were more high pitched, and they only grew when he worked his tongue over your nipples.

“Mando,” you groaned out, and he groaned once again against your skin. “Hurry up,” you breathed out desperately.

Mando then unzipped your pants and pushed them down your legs, taking your blasters, boots, and underwear with them. The blasters bounced off the floor, making you cringe with how loud they were.

“Where’s—where’s the kid?” you managed to get out.

“Still asleep in his pram,” Mando said, and shut you up with a kiss. He now had you completely nude, and the feeling of his rough hands against your smooth skin was like silk. It was addicting, and better than he could ever have imagined.

He never wanted to stop. He wanted you in his arms, this flustered over him forever.

He’d have to ask you about that later.

You moved your lips to his neck now, and kissed all around his Adam’s apple. You then licked up to his jawline, and Mando’s grip on your thighs was getting tighter and tighter the more you worshiped him with your tongue.

“I want you naked now,” you whispered into his ear and bit his earlobe, and his whole body shuddered.

He felt on the brink of explosion. Each breath, moan, and bite from you was just another wave of heat and burning hot pleasure flowing down to his dick. He didn’t know if he could take anymore.

He didn’t even have the words to respond. He was a whining and shaking mess in your arms.

“Can I do it?” you asked him, and you placed your hands on both sides of his face.

“Please,” he said, and you tore off his armor. As fast as you could. Piece by piece.

You took it off in a rush, but placed it on the floor with as much care as you could. You understood that this was the armor that protected not only Mando, but you. That armor was the reason that you still lived and breathed, and there was no need to go throwing it around. Especially out of respect for the Mandalorian who wore it.

Mando could have proposed right there and then.

“Thank you, for doing that,” Mando said in a breathy whisper, and you smiled and kissed his cheek.

You got him down to his underwear, and started running your hands over his stomach and chest.

“I’ve always wanted to feel you,” you said, and pressed your forehead to his. “I just know you’re beautiful under all that armor.”

Mando grinned, and felt the emotion of the level of intimacy he was experiencing with you start to take over. It almost became too much, so he pressed his lips to yours, and filled the room with your groans again.

He could feel you start to rock against his dick, and he lifted you up slightly to slide his underwear off.

“I’m on a pill,” you said, and Mando nodded in response.

“Ready?” he asked, and you kissed him passionately, running your tongue over his.

“Yes,” you said for the second time that day, and Mando lowered you onto his dick ever so slowly.

Nothing could have prepared you for that feeling. Nothing.

You were so slick with arousal it took almost no time for Mando to enter you fully, and once he did, you both moaned in complete unison.

He hit every inch of you perfectly, as if he was molded and created for you. You chased the feeling, wanting it to hit deeper and deeper, and so you started bouncing slightly on top.

The groans and whines of your name from Mando’s lips sounded like a prayer. He had no control over what he was saying, and the pleasure was making him go almost loopy.

“This is—I can’t,” he choked out. “Fuck this feels so good. I don’t—it won’t be long before I—”

“It’s alright,” you groaned. “Just feel it Mando. All you have to do is feel.”

You rocked and bounced harder and harder on his dick, and Mando brought his face to your boobs once more. He kissed and sucked on them harder this time, and massaged all over your back and hair.

“So—so beautiful. How does every inch of you feel beautiful?”

You clenched from his words, which only made him moan louder. The fact he was this loud and vocal was so fucking sexy to you.

“Keep talking,” you groaned.

“My—my beautiful girl. Powerful, stubborn woman,” he said. “I don’t deserve this. Fuck you’re perfect.”

“You’re perfect,” you responded, and brought his face up from your chest to your lips.

“I can feel that you’re almost there, Mando,” you whispered into his lips.

“Let go.”

And he did.

Right then and there.

He shattered and pumped into you as hard as he could, meeting your bounces with a thrust of his hips, and he came undone.

It was glorious. He made the loudest and deepest moan yet, and you hoped you never forgot the sound of it. You hoped to hear it again, and again, and again.

He breathed into your neck, trying to recollect himself, and you massaged his head, feeling all his soft curls.

He kissed your neck, and mumbled a “thank you” into it.

“Thank you, Mando. I’ve wanted that for so long.”

Mando didn’t know if he could fall any farther.

He kissed your jaw, and was about to ask if he could stay inside of you forever, before his eyes widened and he pulled away quickly. You felt your own body jolt against him.

“What?” you whispered, nerves fluttering in your stomach. “What’s wrong?”

You ran your thumb across his cheekbone to try to calm him, and you realized that you really liked touching his face.

“You didn’t…you didn’t cum, did you?”

Oh.

“I mean I…no, no i guess not,” you said. “But I’m fine. I enjoyed—.”

“No,” he said darkly and pulled you off his waist. His dick pulled out of you so quickly you scared yourself with how loud you gasped.

He kept you in his arms as he stood up from the chair and sat down on the floor. He let you wrap your legs around his waist once again, before he fully laid his back down against the metal floor.

“Come here,” he said huskily, and you knew exactly what he was implying.

“No Mando seriously, it’s fine—.”

“No it’s not fine,” he said. “I promised you it would be worth it, and my girl deserves this.”

My girl.

“So please, don’t make me a liar.”

Wow.

“Oh—okay,” you said and moved your way up towards his face.

“I’ve just…I’ve never really, had this before.”

“That’s alright,” he said. “I’ve never done any of this before.”

Holy shit.

Holy. Shit.

You took Mando’s virginity. You did.

“I—,” you tried to start. “I didn’t know that.”

“It’s alright,” he said and massaged your thigh. He really liked doing that. “I don’t want any other woman.”

You closed your eyes, and basked in the feeling of him saying that.

“And I don’t want any other man.”

A beat passed of mutual understanding, before Mando lifted you off of him and started to bring your heat down towards his face.

“Are you sure mesh’la?” Mando asked you one more time.

Fuck yeah you were sure.

After the realization that he trusted you and only you to experience this with, and that even though he hadn’t done it before, he still prioritized bringing you to pleasure, you were definitely sure.

“Yes Mando,” you said. “Please.”

And Mando definitely, definitely, was not a liar.

He sat you down completely on his face, you didn’t even know if he could breathe, and he instantly started kissing and licking softly over your folds. Your head tipped back at the feeling, and that red hot fire from before came back in full force.

“Fuck,” you whined, and inadvertently rocked your hips forward.

“Guide me mesh’la,” Mando said against you, and his hot breath against you made your head fall back more.

“More—more tongue,” you said, and he dragged his tongue all over.

You were in the most pleasure you had ever experienced.

He kissed and licked, reacting to your body’s jolts and twitches so expertly, you were convinced he had to have done this before.

You were sweating profusely, and you gripped and tugged at Mando’s hair, causing more groans to escape from his mouth.

He curved his tongue just right, and you almost screamed.

It was your turn to have no control over your mouth.

“Right there Mando fuck right there,” you said. “You’re so good at this. You’re so good to me. Always protecting me.”

Mando could feel his dick getting hard once again, and he started kissing, licking, and eating you out with more and more passion.

“I don’t want anyone Mando, anyone if it isn’t you.”

This caused Mando to press your folds closer to his face, if that was even possible, and his nose touched your clit in the exact right spot.

You were instantly undone.

You cried out in a moan, and stars met the back of your eyelids. You had never felt such a raw explosion of pleasure, and you just let the waves continue to roll over you. Your hands kept a firm grip in Mando’s hair, and he continued his efforts all throughout your orgasm.

You had never felt so incredible. So loved. So adored.

“All cleaned up,” Mando mumbled from underneath you, and a wave of heat rushed through you again.

Maker.

“Come down here,” he said, and moved your body back down to his waist so he could press his lips to yours. He meant for it to be a quick peck, but you kept your hands on his face and pulled him in for more.

These kisses felt different than the ones before. They were slow, and intimate. You spent time tracing each other’s mouths and feeling each other up. There was emotion in the kisses from before, but something about being on top of Mando, and making out with him up against his sweaty post-sex body…

It was perfect. There was no other way to describe it.

You pulled away for air, and traced his scruffy jawline with your finger, before completely laying on him and tucking your chin into his neck.

The two of you laid in silence for maker knows how long, just tracing patterns on each other’s bodies and trying to come down from your highs. It was the most intimate moment of the whole experience.

“You’re incredible,” Mando mumbled, and pressed a kiss to your hair.

“And I’m yours,” you responded.

Mando smiled, really big, and said, “I just want to lay here for a while. Is that ok?”

“That’s more than ok,” you said, and kissed his bruised neck one last time.

The both of you drifted off eventually, and the anxieties of missions or credits or physical things faded away.

It was then that you realized, that you had all that you would ever need.

Right there.

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[againstacecilia]

Randon

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Rating: 18+ to be safe

Warnings: Slight mention of oral (m receiving), emotional again in a couple ways lol. Also, don't come after me for the overly perfect relationship reader has with her parents, and DEF don't read into what that says about me lololol.

A/N: This is not a drill, we have some feelings starting, folks! Reader faces some people here and we get into the next arc in the next chapter. 👀 Props as always to the incredible human that is @creatively-analytical for beta help. 💖 Asks are always open!!

The landing on Randon was smooth. Your planet, situated in the Mid Rim, was a small one and perfect for unassuming people living unassuming lives. You had lead one of those unassuming lives until only a few weeks ago, when you found out your fiance had taken a bounty hunting job and ran away. In the days since, you had waivered between extreme sadness and clarity on how you wanted your life to change. Now, the only thing you were feeling was trepidation. 

“I have to go meet Tonis, want to meet back here tomorrow morning?” Mando asks on the walk into town. Your feet feel like lead and grow heavier with each step closer to the conversations you’ll have to have today. 

“Could we meet back tonight? I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to.”

“I’ve got some things I need to take care of before we leave and need some time.”

“Okay,” you say, resigned. “I’ll meet you here first thing tomorrow morning.”

You go with him to see with Tonis, hoping that having the conversation with him first will warm you up for talking to your family. Luckily, it goes fairly well. He’s shocked that Arlon just left you the way he did, but one look at Mando tells him you’re telling the truth. If you didn’t know better, you thought you could feel some sort of anger flowing off Mando as you recounted to Tonis your meeting with Arlon. But that couldn’t be right, so you shrug it off. 

Leaving Mando and Tonis to figure out whatever Guild business they have, you exit the cantina and angle your way toward your parents’ home. They live in an apartment in the center of town, right above the art store you frequented as a kid. You take your time meandering through the streets and memories flood your mind: The first time you rode a bike, running home from school with a good report card to show your parents, sneaking out as a teenager to meet up with friends at night… Before you know it, you’re standing at the door to their apartment, the wooden stairs leading to your childhood home stretching before you. 

“You can do it.” Mando’s voice says behind you. 

You jump, not having heard him walk up behind you. Turning to face him, you reach up and nudge his shoulder. “Scared the shit out of me, Mando.”

He chuckles, “Sorry.”

Taking a breath, you turn and ring the bell. It echoes through the open window upstairs, the same little tune from years before. You turn to thank Mando only to find that he’s disappeared again, impossibly quiet for being covered in pounds of shining metal. 

The sound of the door opening snaps your focus back in front of you and there stands your mother. A little shorter than you, her greying hair is pulled into a high ponytail and a headband secures the shorter hairs in the front. You got her eyes, and looking into them now is like seeing into your future. Little laugh lines crinkle as she smiles at you and she spares no time pulling you in for a hug.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m so glad you’re back safe!” she squeezes you tightly before pulling away. “Did you find Arlon?”

Your stomach twists uncomfortably. “I did. Can we go inside? I need to talk to you and Dad.”

Her face drops, but she nods and leads you up the stairs, closing the door behind you. Your dad is already in the living room, putting his book down as soon as he sees it’s you. 

“It’s so good to see you,” he says, taking you into his arms. You bury your face in his chest, fighting the tears choking you. 

“It’s good to see you both too. I have a lot I need to tell you.” You ask them both to sit down, planting yourself in a chair across from them. 

“I found Arlon,” you begin. Your dad looks relieved but your mom puts her hand on his knee. 

“There’s more though, isn’t there?” she asks.

You nod. “He… He didn’t want to be found.” Through tears and anger, you relay everything that’s happened over the last few weeks; from finding Arlon to training with Mando and, finally, your plans for your future. 

“I’ve worked so hard on being this perfect person, but I don’t even know who that person is. I don’t know how to look at myself in the mirror and love the person looking back at me. I need to know what it means to be me.”

Your mom has silver lining her eyes, but she’s smiling at you. Your dad stands and comes around the table to kneel next to your chair. 

“We are so proud of you,” he takes your hand. “We’ve always known you were capable of everything you set your mind to. Arlon was never the right man for you.”

“What do you mean?” your gaze bounces between your parents, not fully grasping what your father is saying. 

“What we mean,” your mother begins, “is you need to find yourself. You said it yourself, you worked every day to be the perfect person. The thing is, you were always being what you thought other people thought perfection was. Who do you want to be?”

You laugh, relief flooding your soul. “I don’t know yet, but I think I know how to find out.” 

“Does it have to do with this Mandalorian you mentioned?” your father asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Dad,” you laugh, shaking your head, “Mando is just someone helping me find my way. I’m not even sure how long he’ll put up with me.”

“Well, whoever this man is, I hope he’s treating you right,” your mother says, standing up and walking over to you. She kisses the top of your head and your father squeezes your hand. 

“He is. He’s already helped me more than I deserve.”

Your father goes back to the couch and looks at you intensely. “Honey, you deserve every ounce of love and support in the Galaxy. You always have.” Your mother nods, squeezing your shoulder. 

You continue the conversation with your parents into the evening. They promise to tell Arlon’s parents what happened, promising you that it wasn’t a problem that you weren’t going to be the one to talk to them. The night is filled with laughter and reminiscing, and more quickly than you imagined it draws to an end. 

“Do you have to leave tonight?” your mother asks, washing the evening’s dishes.

You take the plate she hands you, drying it and putting it in the cupboard. “I do, we need to get going on whatever Mando needs to catch up on after helping me the last few weeks.” You felt bad for lying to them, but you needed to get out. You knew where Mando had left the Crest and spending the night there alone felt like a better idea than lingering here for any longer. 

“We’re going to miss you, kiddo,” your father says, bringing the last dishes in from the living room. He takes the towel from you and wraps you in another hug. 

“I’m going to miss you too, Dad,” you hug him back. He lets you go and you move to your mom, hugging her as well. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you so much. Please let us know you’re okay when you can.”

“I will, I promise.” When you pull away, she puts her hand on your jaw.

“We really are very proud of you,” she whispers, patting your cheek. 

“Thank you, Mom.” You look at both of them, “I love you both.”

They give you a small bag of food and clean clothes and see you to the door. You step out into the street and start walking in the direction fo the Crest. You turn one last time, looking at your parents. They wave and you wave back, then continue on your way. 

- - - - - - - -

Mando had been right. Talking with your parents and telling them what had happened gave you closure you hadn’t fully realized you needed. As you left the town and started walking the path to the ship, you were amazed at how light you felt. Your future was clear to you; you just needed time and space to figure out who you wanted to be. And you had so many options! Did you want to be a bounty hunter, like Mando? Did you want to learn more about art and use those skills to build your life somewhere bigger? For the first time, you felt opportunity before you and it didn’t scare you. It excited you. 

With a spring in your step, you approach the Crest. Climbing the ramp to the outer door on the side of the ship, you punch in the code you’d seen Mando use to open it. The interior was dim, but you’d spent enough time inside to know how to find your way to your cot in the low light. Dropping your bag on your cot, you hear thunking and rustling from the cockpit. 

“Mando?” you call out, taking off your coat and putting it on top of your bag. When he doesn’t respond, you move toward the ladder and climb. 

Peeking your head over the landing you see the dark cockpit. The only light coming in is through the windows, a full moon illuminating just enough to see the silhouettes of two people. Mando’s trademark helmet gleamed in the moonlight and, as your eyes adjusted, you could see him standing over a kneeling form. The second person moves back and forth at his waist and…

Oh no, you thought, scurrying silently as possible back down the ladder. Your face burns with the embarrassment of seeing something so private, and another emotion you can’t quite place… 

You think as little about it as possible as you grab your jacket and bag and race out of the ship. You make the trip back to town in record time, honing straight in on your parents’ apartment. Before you know it, you’re once again knocking on their door. 

The light in the stairway turns on and you see the outline of your father come down the stairs. He opens the door and says with a smile, “Back so soon?”

“Hey Dad, looks like Mando won’t be ready to leave until the morning. Can I crash here?”

“Like you even need to ask, this is still your home, kiddo.” He steps aside to let you up the stairs. Your mom is standing on the landing in her pyjamas. 

“Hi honey, everything okay?”

“Yep!” you chirp, “I get an extra night so I thought I’d come back and spend it with you guys.”

“Of course!” She leads you to your old room and opens the door. They’d converted it to a guest room when you had moved out, but always made it clear it would always be yours, first and foremost. The bed is slightly bigger than it had been when you were living here, but the soft pastels of the walls are the same. A bouquet of fresh flowers sits on the bedside table and the curtains sway in a light breeze from the open window. 

“Thanks, Mom,” you put your bag down next to the bed and pull softer clothes out to sleep in. The buttery-soft shorts and top slide over your fingers and smell like home. 

“If you need anything, just let us know. When are you heading out in the morning?”

“Pretty early,” you respond, “I’ll wake you guys up before I go.”

“Please do.” She kisses your cheek. “Sleep well, love.”

As you change and get ready for bed, what you saw in the Razor Crest plays in your mind. You weren’t sure who the other person was with Mando, but you were pretty positive about what you saw. It was obvious, now, what he “needed to take care of” before you left. Laying in bed, surrounded by the sights and smells of home, you felt a very unfamiliar emotion: jealousy. 

Of course, there was no reason for you to be jealous. Mando was nothing romantic to you. When you met him, you were engaged to another man. He was a teacher more than anything, and had agreed to show you the ways of traveling and self-defense so you could eventually leave and be out on your own. Your relationship had an expiration date and he was more than free to do whatever he liked with his life. You fall into an uneasy sleep, mirroring the last night you’d spent on Randon all those weeks ago.

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[panic-in-the-multiverse]

･*:.｡.─_*✧.｡.:*･# ﾟ𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐒 ﾐ

Warnings = **

x teen!reader / x child!reader / x daughter!reader / x gn!reader / x platonic!reader / x sibling!reader / son!reader / romantic!reader / ftm!reader / mtf!reader / padawan!reader / jedi!reader / sith!reader / rebel!reader / empire!reader

I don’t own Star Wars or any of the characters in Star Wars, I only own the imagines that I have created in tumblr or wattpad.

Main Masterlist

PREQUEL ✧ CLONE WARS ✧ BAD BATCH •

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*✧.｡.:*･# IMAGINES ﾐ

Between Good & Goodbye ** - Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!reader: Instead of Ahsoka Tano, you were the one who got blamed for the bombing in the Jedi temple, and instead of Ahsoka leaving, it’s you who leaves (coming soon)

Be Here For You ** - Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!reader: You are Obi-Wan’s Padawan and he comforts you when he felt your anxiety after the mission you both were on (coming soon)

Promises ** - Obi-Wan Kenobi x padawan!reader: You died in order 66 and your master Obi-Wan can’t let go of you

One of us ** - Bad Batch x teen!reader: you meet the bad batch and you find out that you are actually a clone, but they doesn’t seem to trust you until you and Echo has a one on one conversation

Survivors Guilt ** - Bad Batch x teen!padawan!reader: you survived order 66 (coming soon)

Late Night Talking ** - Obi-Wan Kenobi x gn!jedi!reader: you and Obi-Wan confess your feelings for each other (romantic)

✧.｡.:*･# SERIES ﾐ

Attachment of a Child ** - Obi-Wan Kenobi x padawan!reader: a bunch of fanfics about Obi-Wan and his new/second padawan/the reader (entirely platonic)

✧.｡.:*･# HEADCANONS ﾐ

Being Ahsoka Tano’s best friend would include ** - being Obi-Wan’s padawan and Ahsoka’s best friend would include - Ahsoka Tano x reader

KENOBI ✧ ANDOR ✧ ROGUE ONE

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*✧.｡.:*･# IMAGINES ﾐ

✧.｡.:*･# SERIES ﾐ

✧.｡.:*･# HEADCANONS ﾐ

Dating Reva Headcanons ** - soft headcanons on dating Reva - Reva x gn!reader

ORIGINAL ✧ REBELS

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*✧.｡.:*･# IMAGINES ﾐ

✧.｡.:*･# SERIES ﾐ

✧.｡.:*･# HEADCANONS ﾐ

MANDALORIAN ✧ BOBA FETT

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*✧.｡.:*･# IMAGINES ﾐ

✧.｡.:*･# SERIES ﾐ

✧.｡.:*･# HEADCANONS ﾐ

Best Father of the Year ** - Din Djarin x teen!reader: how I imagine Mando would be like if he was the father to not only Grogu but a force sensitive teenager (coming soon)

SEQUEL

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*✧.｡.:*･# IMAGINES ﾐ

✧.｡.:*･# SERIES ﾐ

✧.｡.:*･# HEADCANONS ﾐ

Flying Buddies ** - what I imagine it would be like to be best friends with Poe Dameron - Poe Dameron x reader