#ghost is a mando obliviously | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

outercrasis · 4 years ago

Text

Maybe It’s A Sign

Pairing: Modern!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 9.3k+

Warnings: alcohol, implied age difference, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, p-in-v sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming

Summary: You and Mando have been driving across America together for months. You're happy to be with him but part of you longs for something more.

A/N: I don’t really know the time period for this, probably like anything pre-2010s. There’s no use of y/n and let me know if I missed a warning :)

Read it on AO3

The breeze from the open truck window is cool against your heated skin. It's your only relief as the sun beats down on you through the windshield, the busted A/C offering no help. You're headed down some freeway in the middle of nowhere America, riding shotgun in an old beat-up truck that's seen better days.

You've been keeping your eyes on the flat landscape surrounding you, watching as field after field passes you by. They really weren't joking when they'd named them the Great Plains. Music filters through the air, some classic rock song you've heard a thousand times before. You still hum along mindlessly, enjoying the small amount of entertainment.

Bored of the vast sameness outside your window, your eyes drift over to your companion, driver, and owner of the truck. Mando. You study him, finding him far more interesting than the fields outside.

His worn baseball cap has been pushed up, presumably from scratching his scalp underneath and not bothering to fix it. Soft brown curls peek out around the edges of the hat. He has his sunglasses on and his eyes are firmly fixed on the road ahead, as they should be. The patchy scruff along his jawline has grown out a bit from your recent days on the road and you can see a few gray hairs mixed in with his darker natural color.

He shrugged off his jacket earlier in the day, leaving him in a worn gray t-shirt that hugged his lean muscles all just right. His faded blue jeans are on and you wonder how he can stand to wear them in the oppressive summer heat. You gave into shorts days ago.

All in all, he was a far better sight than anything outside the truck. As you look him over, you muse how everything he owns seems to be worn in. His rusty truck, his old hat, his distressed clothes. They all carry a sense of being lived in, nothing new and shiny on him. Well, except for his jewelry. His silver necklace and rings always shine brightly, a dramatic contrast to the rest of him.

"Stop staring," Mando suddenly says, breaking you from your observation of him. You're a little embarrassed to have been caught, but you aren't going to let him know that.

"Why? Nothin' else to look at around here."

That rewards you with a chuckle. At least he isn't irritated by your staring then.

"Don't you have a book or something?"

You look over at the book you had thrown on the dashboard. A used copy of Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger that you picked up a couple states back. You aren't sure you like Holden, but it's a good read at least. "Yeah, but I can't read it for long before I start feeling sick. So I guess I'll just have to look at you instead."

"Sure that I won't make you sick?" Mando teases.

You smile. He's in a good mood today. There are days where conversation with him is like pulling teeth, but it makes days like today all the more worth it.

"Nah, you aren't so hard on the eyes." You say it cool and casual, genuine but not needy. As though you don't often think of his looks when you have the time and privacy to satisfy your needs.

Mando shakes his head slightly but you can see the ghost of a smile on his lips. "Sure, sweetheart."

He never seems to believe you when you compliment his appearance. It breaks your heart a little. Sure, he has some years on you, but you aren't blind. You know a good-looking man when you see one and Mando? He was it. If the man wasn't oblivious, he'd notice the looks plenty of women and some men throw him when he strolls into town.

Not sure of what to say next, but not wanting the conversation to end, you take to a habit that's been slowly forming over your months with him. It had begun out of boredom one day, but continued due to a desperate urge to learn anything and everything your mysterious companion will tell you about himself.

"When's your birthday?"

Mando isn't surprised anymore by your random questions. "May eighteenth."

Your eyes go wide at his answer. It was July now, meaning he'd let the day come and go without telling you. You had just assumed his birthday hadn't come around with you yet. "Mando! Why didn't you tell me? I would have at least said something if I had known."

He shrugs. "Birthdays aren't a big deal where I grew up."

"Were you raised Jehovah's Witness or something?" you ask.

"No, nothing like that." His fingers drum slightly on the steering wheel. You noticed a while ago that he did that when you got close to something he didn't want to talk about. His childhood always seems to be a touchy subject.

You want to know more, want to learn all of his secrets, but you don't want to jeopardize his good mood. Mando had shared bits and pieces of those more intimate details with you over your shared months with him, but always on his own time. His own terms. You won't push it now. Instead, you pivot to something more innocuous.

"If you could only eat one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be?"

You're surprised when he barely takes any time to consider the question before answering. "Tacos."

You raise an eyebrow. "Tacos? I took you for more of a burger and fries kind of guy."

"Nothing compares to a good authentic taco from down by the border." He says it with such confidence that you can do nothing other than believe him.

"I wouldn't know," you say.

Mando cocks an eyebrow at you now. "We'll have to fix that then."

A warm flush runs through your body at his words. You know he isn't looking to get rid of you, but hearing him make plans for the future with you, no matter how tentative, makes you happier than you care to admit. Small promises that you know he'll make good on eventually given the time and opportunity.

"What about you?" he asks.

"Easy. A full breakfast. Eggs, bacon, potatoes, and toast. Doesn't matter how they're cooked or the specific options, you can't go wrong."

You stretch yourself out in the cab as you answer, throwing your feet up on the dash. Your eyes close for a moment and you miss the way Mando's eyes rake over your extended frame.

"You're never awake for breakfast," Mando comments. He's right. You enjoy your sleep and when left to your own devices you easily dream through breakfast hours.

"That doesn't matter," you retort. "Breakfast food isn't only good in the morning."

You continue that way for a while, gathering small bits of information about him and sharing your own in return. You learn that he prefers hot weather over the cold, soft pillows over firm ones, showers over baths, and most surprisingly that he has a soft spot for musicals. That fact had made you giggle, imagining Mando singing along to The Music of the Night. With all of his mystery, he wouldn't make for a bad Phantom you think.

As the afternoon wears on, you can feel yourself growing tired. Between the warmth of the sun, the lulling rumble of the truck, and the comfortable environment of the cab, you're fighting to keep your eyes open. Mando notices your struggle and reaches a hand out towards you.

You aren't really sure when this began, but you aren't complaining about it. Mando would hold your hand whenever you fell asleep in the truck, thumb gently rubbing against your skin. His hands were rough, callused from years of work, but they felt nice. They felt strong, comforting. In those moments nothing else in the world mattered. And if you thought about his hands later, touching places other than your hands, then that was your business and no one else’s.

You wake up a couple hours later, Mando calling your name to pull you from your sleep. The sun has moved down in the sky and you guess it’s somewhere close to five o’clock. You’d check the time on the radio, but Mando never seemed to bother keeping it right due to regularly changing time zones with all the cross country traveling.

You’re sitting outside of some 24 hour diner on a random roadside. Mando seems to be fond of these little dives, preferring them to any of the big chain restaurants you always pass. Fast food is the only exception to that rule and even that’s rare, these food stops often being one of few chances to stretch your legs when you’re on the road.

“What do you think? Do they have the best pie in America?” you joke, pointing at the sun-worn sign hanging below the restaurant’s name. You can’t count how many ‘best blank in America’ signs you’ve seen at this point. While you can’t credit their authenticity, it usually did mean there was something good waiting for you on the menu.

“I suppose we’ll have to be the judges of that,” Mando replies.

You tug on your socks and shoes that you pulled off earlier in the day and hop out of the truck. The easy conversation and warm nap have you in a great mood, one that makes you a little bolder than you might otherwise be. Walking into the diner, you grab onto Mando’s arm, smiling at him when he looks down at you in surprise. He doesn’t pull away from you though and your heart beats a little bit faster.

The diner has plenty of open seats and you seat yourselves, grabbing one of the booths. The stiff vinyl isn’t the most comfortable, but you can’t say you’re surprised. The place looks like it hasn’t been renovated in a decade. If the smell from the kitchen is anything to go off of though, the food will be just fine.

A waitress comes over to take your orders. She’s exactly what you would imagine a waitress to look like in a diner like this one. Slightly heavyset, a kind face, and a big smile to offer you. “Hi there, what can I get the two of you?” she asks.

“I’ll take a coke, ma’am,” Mando says. He seems oblivious to the flush on the waitress’s cheeks at his baritone.

“I’ll take a coke too.”

“I’ll be right back, folks.”

You reach over to grab a sticky menu from the end of the table. The stickiness grosses you out a little, but it really does add to the ambiance of the place. Your conversation from earlier drifting back into mind, you immediately look for the breakfast section. Perfect. Their ‘two eggs and more’ option is exactly what you were looking for.

The waitress returns with your drinks and takes your orders, Mando getting himself a burger and fries. You smirk at him, taking the wrapper off of your straw. “I thought you said you weren’t a burger and fries kind of guy?”

Mando watches as you carefully make a wrapper worm, dropping the smallest amount of soda on the paper to make it move. “I just said tacos were my favorite, never said I’m a guy who doesn’t enjoy a good burger and fries, sweetheart.”

“Fair enough,” you say with a shrug.

You fall into a comfortable silence together at the table. Silence isn’t an uncommon occurrence between the two of you. When you first joined Mando you talked all the time. Trying to fill up the empty space, feeling like if someone wasn’t talking then the situation was awkward. Slowly you learned though. The silence was never awkward until you made it that way and unless Mando had something to say, he’d stay quiet. He’s not incapable of conversation, he just doesn’t like to force it.

You softly hum a tune that’s been stuck in your head, looking out the diner window and enjoying the sunset. It’s a gorgeous one today, the sky looking like an oil painting with its gradient of colors. The flat plains allow for a good view of it too, only a small building in the distance blocking any part of the horizon. You kick yourself for not picking up that disposable camera at the gas station this morning. The photo would never do it justice, but at least that way you could have a small piece of the gorgeous sky to hold onto.

Plates being set down on the table brings you back down to earth. You happily dig into your meal, pleased to have been right about the quality of food here. Nothing could beat a good meal at a greasy diner. Mando seems to enjoy his burger as well, scarfing it down well before you finish your plate.

He always ate like that and you aren’t sure why. It’s as though he thinks if he doesn’t eat it fast enough then someone is going to come and steal it from him. Early on you’d tried to speed up your eating, feeling awkward every time he finished and was forced to wait on you. Now though, you don’t care. Mando rarely ever stops moving and a meal with you is a time you can be certain that he isn’t doing anything for once. You hope that eventually it might encourage him to actually enjoy his food as well, but that still seems a long way off.

Mando picks at his fries and sips at his coke while you finish up. The waitress comes by to refill the drinks, another flush on her cheeks when Mando thanks her. There must not be many attractive men who roll through here if a simple thanks has her blushing, you think. Poor lady, she seems quite nice.

“So, what’s the plan?” you ask Mando between bites of egg and toast.

“Plan?”

“Yes, plan. We’ve been driving west for two days now and you seem to have some destination in mind. So, what’s the plan?” What plan, of course Mando has a plan. He always does. Was it always well thought out or complete? No, but there is never a time where he doesn’t have some sort of plan, some idea of where he’s off to next. You’re the one without plans, content with travelling alongside him.

Before Mando can reply, the waitress returns to the table and clears his now empty plate. “Can we get a slice of your pie?” Mando asks.

“Of course, what flavor would you like?” she replies.

“Whatever flavor you think is best, ma’am.” That garners yet another blush on the waitress’s cheeks. Wow. Things must be really bad around here then. One good-looking customer shouldn’t have that big of an impact on anyone, much less a woman who’s clearly made this job her life’s work.

She leaves and you prompt Mando again. “So? Plan?”

“I’m going to meet someone tonight, pick up a new job. Then we’ll go from there,” he finally tells you.

You aren’t pleased by his half-cryptic half-telling answer. He’s always doing this to you, giving you answers but never quite the whole thing. You bet he already knows what the next job is, he’s just being coy about it for some ridiculous reason.

You decide not to push it and slide your plate over to Mando. There are some hash browns left and he won’t just ask for them despite the fact that you’re clearly done. He doesn’t say thanks, just picks up the fork and shovels them in. This by now is routine too so it doesn’t bother you, but it’s still odd. Mando is just weird about food.

He finishes the last of your meal and the waitress returns with the pie. “Blueberry, winner of the county festival five years running,” she tells you.

You grab a fork and dig in, suddenly finding the room in your stomach for dessert. Best pie in America might be a stretch, but you believe their claim to the best pie in the county. It’s delicious, eliciting a small but satisfied groan from you on the first bite. You go to take a second bite when you realize Mando hasn’t moved yet, he’s just watching you with an expression on his face that you can’t quite make out.

“Earth to Mando?” you say, waving your hand. “Try the pie, it’s delicious.”

He breaks from his stare and takes a piece of the pie. “‘S good,” he says around the mouthful.

You laugh at his terrible manners. “Gross, finish chewing before you talk.”

He doesn’t have a witty retort, but he gives you a grin that makes you feel like you’ve won a million dollars. It’s one of the ones that reaches his eyes, making them just shy of sparkling. Now you really wish you had bought that disposable camera.

Finishing the award-winning dessert, you and Mando go up to the counter to pay. He’s left a tip on the table, a sizable one in your opinion, but you aren’t going to say anything about it. Mando is always leaving big tips at places like these.

You take in the diner for one last moment, not paying attention to Mando’s conversation with the waitress until she says something that catches your ear.

“-shift ends in a half hour.” Did you hear that right? Was she really propositioning Mando right now? Christ, things must be downright desolate around here.

Your heart stops as you wait to hear Mando’s reply. He could easily accept. She’s an attractive woman with that classic middle America charm about her. Any other man would probably take her up on the offer. Would it shatter your heart into a million pieces if Mando did? Most likely. But do you have any right to feel that way? Most likely not.

Mando isn’t tied to you, at least not in that way, and he’s certainly still a man. You haven’t known him to chase after any women the whole time you’ve been with him, but surely he has needs and the waitress is beautiful and willing. You wouldn’t be able to fault him for it.

“I’m flattered, but the lady here and I need to be getting back on the road,” Mando says, slinging an arm around your shoulders. You do your best to keep your face neutral, not wanting to come off as rude while also trying not to make it obvious the way your heart swoops at Mando’s reply. You know he doesn’t mean anything serious by it, but the implication is still very much there.

Embarrassment washes over the poor woman’s face. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I just assumed…” she trails off, not finishing her thought. You want to feel bad for her, but you can’t help but feel sorry for yourself.

You have a good idea of what she assumed. You’ve heard a multitude of mistaken relationships by now between you and Mando. Everything from some kind of family relation, to something more perverted that’s assumed by greasy motel attendants who cast odd glances when you ask for a double instead of a single. It’s never any less uncomfortable.

Mando brushes it off. “It’s fine ma’am, no harm, no foul.” The waitress doesn’t blush at his words anymore.

Bill paid, you and Mando leave the diner. His arm leaves you and you climb back into the truck. The radio flickers back to life and neither of you speak. You wish you could know what’s going on inside of his head. Probably just thinking about the next job. That seems like him, always focused on what’s coming next.

You can’t help but be consumed with thoughts of him. Situations like the one with the waitress always left you distracted. There’s no real way to describe your relationship with Mando. You had helped him with a deal and he had helped you with a way out of your one-horse town. Originally neither of you planned on staying together for this long, but at some point Mando stopped asking you where you wanted to go and you stopped asking if he was going to leave.

You’re comfortable around each other, content to drive across America while Mando picks up job after job. At some point your feelings deepened for him, you aren’t exactly sure when, but now you can’t imagine leaving Mando. It’s no longer just about the adventure of it for you. It’s something more, a deeper tie than you’ve ever had to anyone. However, you have no idea if he feels the same way and you don’t intend to find out. Better to love your mystery man from afar then reveal yourself and get left in the dust.

Fifteen minutes into the drive, Mando reaches over and turns down the radio. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable back there.”

You’re a bit surprised to hear an apology. After all, he had nothing to really apologize for. The waitress had come onto him, not the other way around. You know Mando isn’t the type to flat out refuse and insult someone like that. What he had done was… fine. You had hardly even considered it.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Mando,” you tell him. “If anything she did, propositioning you like that.”

A small, relieved smile works its way across his face. “It was quite bold.”

That makes you laugh. “I’m not surprised, she was sizing you up since we walked in.”

“She was not,” Mando argues.

You shift in your seat to face him. “Are you kidding? You really didn’t notice her blushing every time you spoke to her?” If Mando was this oblivious maybe you didn’t need to worry about him catching onto you.

“Now you’re just lying, sweetheart.”

“Am not. You just don’t pay attention.”

Mando rolls his eyes and turns the radio back up. He mumbles something but you can’t make it out. You let it slide and allow yourself to relax. Your hand falls to the center of the bench seat as you look out the window. The stars are coming out now, another gorgeous sight in the vast expanse of the sky. So far away from the city, it feels like you can see every pinprick of light the universe has to offer. It’s a bit disorienting honestly. Nothing makes you feel smaller by comparison and yet, you don’t really mind.

You startle as something wraps around your hand. Looking down, you realize that it’s just Mando, holding your hand as he does when you’re close to falling asleep in the truck. You look up at him, confused. You aren’t anywhere close to nodding off. He should know that, so why…?

Mando doesn’t look at you, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. His thumb softly rubs against the back of your hand. You relax into his touch, turning your eyes back to the stars. Confusion about Mando’s actions doesn’t compare to the way your stomach flips at his gentle touch. It feels nice, domestic almost, if one can consider a life lived out of the front seat of a rusted out pickup domestic. His hand doesn’t leave yours until he pulls into the pothole filled parking lot of some dive bar.

Mando parks and turns the truck off. You move to get out of the truck with him when he squeezes your hand to stop you.

“Stay in the truck,” Mando says. His hand leaves you and he opens his own door, jumping out onto the cracked asphalt.

You look over at him, incredulous. “Excuse me? You know I am old enough to go in there, right?”

“I know. Stay in the truck.” Mando closes the truck door, giving you no more room to argue with him. It pisses you off.

What is this? Soften you up by holding your hand only to leave you behind? You hate when he does this, treating you like a child that’s just tagging along with him. You suppose you are tagging along, which stings a bit more, but you could be helpful, useful even if he would just let you in. Instead he keeps you at arm’s length at times, treating you like you can’t take care of yourself. He has no right to boss you around like that, telling you where you can and can’t go.

You watch his figure enter the bar, temper rising. If this place was good enough for him, it was certainly good enough for you. A bar like this had been where you met Mando months ago, working as a bartender and server. It didn’t bring back the best of memories, but you can handle yourself. At worst a fight might break out or patrons might get a little handsy. You can avoid the first and as for the second, it’s not as though Mando would need to put someone in the hospital for getting a little too flirty with you.

After fuming in the truck for a couple minutes, you make up your mind. You look yourself over in the mirror, trying to fix your appearance to look like you hadn't just spent the last two days in a truck. Pleased with yourself, you pull your shirt down slightly to reveal a bit more cleavage. The discovery of the power a pair of tits held in dive bars was one you made a long time ago. You flip the mirror back up and get out of the truck.

You practice your walk as you approach the bar door, trying to keep it calm and confident. Mando is going to be pissed at you for this, you already know, but you refuse to be treated like a child. If coming in here without his permission is what it takes for him to view you differently, then so be it. Younger you might be, but incapable you are not.

The moment you walk in the door, you spot Mando. He’s in the corner, talking to someone with his back to the door. He doesn’t even notice as you walk in and stroll up to the bar.

The man behind the counter is old, his white shirt spotted with stains and a towel thrown over his shoulder. It’s almost too stereotypical a look and you want to laugh. The stiff look he gives you though stifles your amusement.

“What can I get you?” he asks gruffly as you take a seat at the bartop.

“I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks.”

Whiskey is not your favorite drink. Not by a long shot. Really, you would have loved to order something fruity that you can’t taste the alcohol in, but whiskey is something you’ve learned to tolerate. You know that appearances matter in a place like this and a fruity drink would mark you as someone lost, not as someone who belongs here. You aren’t looking to get trashed anyway, just something to calm your nerves.

It doesn’t take long before someone is sidling up next to you at the bar. You don’t acknowledge him right away, instead staring up at the small CRT TV that’s playing the local news above the bar. Some murder case from a couple towns over is currently being highlighted. Lovely.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here?” he asks you.

You glance over at him, enough to get a look, but you don’t let your eyes linger. Lingering eyes would mean an invitation that you certainly don’t want to give. You have to admit, as far as seedy dive bar men went, he isn’t hard to look at. Not much older than you, clean shaven, bright blue eyes. Another time you might have gone for someone like him. Not now. These days your thoughts are only occupied by scruff, dark hair, and warm brown eyes.

“Came in for a drink,” you reply simply.

He leans in a bit closer. “Can I buy you another?”

You take a sip of your drink. “I think I’m alright, thanks.”

He pushes in even further, placing a hand on your thigh. This guy didn’t take no for an answer apparently. “Aw, come on now, don’t be that way sweetheart.”

Hearing him call you sweetheart makes you want to punch him more than him touching you does. It sounds wrong coming out of his mouth, harsh and manipulative, not the smooth and warm way Mando says it. For a moment, you do seriously consider punching this guy square in the jaw before deciding against it. You came in here to prove a point and not being able to handle a pushy guy would just prove the exact opposite of that.

You turn in your chair to move your thigh away from him. He has the decency to let his hand fall at least. “Don’t call me that,” you tell him.

“Alright then, what do I call you?”

You turn your attention back to the TV. Now they were highlighting a feel good story about an animal adoption from the nearby shelter. Odd shift in tone. You don’t reply to Blue-eyes and hope he gets the message.

“Playing hard to get, that’s fine,” he says. You take another sip of your whiskey. The news shifts to the weather. There’s more warm weather on the way for the next week, no storms in sight. That’ll be nice to drive in you think.

Blue-eyes’ hand returns to your thigh, creeping up higher than it was before. “I don’t mind hard to get, sweetheart.”

That one garners a slap. You do it before you even give it a real thought. It’s a good one at least, making a very solid sound as his head spins. It’s a testament to the bar that no one even spares it a second glance. Blue-eyes turns back to you, furious.

“You’re going to regret that, bitch,” he hisses at you, roughly grabbing your arm.

“You’re going to regret it if you don’t take your hand off of her.”

You’ve never been so happy to hear Mando’s voice in your life. Could you handle this guy? Probably. Do you want to? Absolutely not. You know on your own there's a near certain chance you'll end up with bruises before this guy gives up.

Somewhere in your mind you register the very real possibility that Mando is pissed at you right now. You shove it down, choosing to focus on the fact that he did just come to your defense.

Blue-eyes is more stupid then he looks and doesn’t read the very obvious threat Mando poses. Instead he doubles down and tightens his grip on you. “Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it, old man?”

You can't say you're surprised when Mando punches him in the face instead of answering the question. You also can’t say that you feel bad about it either. The surprise and hurt of the sudden punch makes Blue-eyes release his grip on you, giving you enough time to move out of the way as Mando moves in. Mando grabs a fistful of Blue-eyes' shirt and pulls the guy in towards his face.

“Do you regret it?” Mando grits out. Blue-eyes sputters something that sounds like an apology and pushes himself away.

Satisfied, Mando now turns on you. You were right, he's pissed. His typically soft, warm eyes are hard on you now as he pulls you away.

You flounder to tell him you haven't paid for your drink but he just ignores you, dragging you out of the bar. If you were smarter, you would think to be a little scared about making a man like Mando mad at you. Instead, your thoughts are occupied with how he's barely even trying to overpower you and yet you couldn't break free of his grip if you tried. You wonder if there's something wrong with you for how much it's turning you on.

Arriving back at the truck, Mando releases his grip. "Get in," he demands.

You do as you're told and climb into the passenger seat as Mando goes around. Nerves finally settle in. Mando would never hurt you, you know that, but he could decide to ditch you somewhere. Whatever this situation is with him, it's far from formal. He has no obligation to you and could easily choose to end it. With the trouble you’ve just caused, you wouldn’t be surprised if this all comes to a swift and sudden end.

As Mando climbs into the cab, you stare down at the floorboards, terrified that he's going to tell you he's dropping you off somewhere and leaving you behind for good. You can't imagine your life without him now. There's nowhere for you to go, nothing for you to do without him. Right back to square one.

He doesn't speak right away, which only makes you more nervous. He peels the truck out of the parking lot, headed back in the direction you came from. You still don't look at him. It's obvious you fucked up and there's nothing you can really say to fix that. Your only hope is that he forgives you.

You're headed back through the small nearby town when he finally speaks. “I told you to stay in the truck.”

You don’t say anything in response. Anything you can come up with sounds childish in your head. The exact opposite of what you'd been trying to prove. Thankfully, Mando takes your silence as an answer.

“Why would you even do something like that? Do you know how stupid that was?” His hands are tight on the wheel, glancing between you and the road as he yells.

You mumble back to him.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“He called me sweetheart,” you say a little louder.

“What?” He isn't going to let you off the hook with this and it gets under your skin. Some part of you thought he might be proud of you for smacking that creep and here he is berating you for it.

“He called me sweetheart, alright?” you half-shout.

Mando gives you a confused look, clearly not the answer he was expecting. “Do you- do you have a problem with that?” The heat is still present in his voice, but you can hear a little worry in it now. Shit. This is not what you wanted out of this whole ordeal.

You've never wanted the ground to come up and swallow you more. Why didn’t you just say that you smacked him for touching you? That would have been simple. How do you answer this without making everything weird? No, Mando, I don’t have a problem with that. I smacked him because I only like it when you call me that. Sure. That won’t be weird or awkward at all.

After cursing yourself for a few seconds, you manage a response. “No, I- I just didn’t like it when he said it.”

"Oh." That's Mando's only reply.

You know he's still angry about you coming into the bar, but apparently your answer has sidelined him. If it wasn't so embarrassing, you might even be rejoicing at his reaction. Instead you just feel like a fool.

The silence remains as you pull into a little local motel with the vacancy sign lit up. Mando hands you forty dollars, way more than you need, and tells you to get a room.

Okay. So he isn't getting rid of you… yet.

You barely even listen to the attendant as they tell you they only have one single available for the night. Now is not the time to be arguing about sleeping arrangements. You take the key, room 104, and make your way back to the truck.

You grab your bag from the flatbed and let Mando know the room number. He nods and goes to pull the truck around. You kick yourself as you walk over to the room. Why didn’t you just stay in the truck? Why didn’t you just lie to Mando about your reasons? He’s smart and it won’t take long now for him to put two and two together. Especially if he asks anymore questions.

You have no idea how Mando might react. If learning about your feelings towards him combined with what happened in the bar might be enough to leave you. He’s certainly not cold with you, but you’re not sure you’d call any of his actions romantic either. Holding your hand after the diner today is the closest he’s ever come. You wish you knew what that meant to him. You know what it meant to you.

Mando parks the truck outside of the room as you unlock the door. It’s not a fancy room, just one big square with a bathroom attached. There’s a full bed, a dresser with a TV on it, and a small table with a couple chairs. You toss your bag on the table and sit down on the edge of the bed. There’s no point in pretending you aren’t upset, Mando can always see through your lies. Might as well just get this over with.

Nervous, you hide your face in your hands, leaning forward with your elbows on your knees. You’re ready to deal with it, but not while actually looking at him. You can’t handle seeing his face as he figures things out; the way he might look at you while he rejects you. Suddenly you feel a wave of sympathy for the waitress earlier today. You hope Mando will let you down easy like he did for her.

You don’t look up when Mando comes into the room. His boots enter your line of vision and you close your eyes. You can’t look at any part of him right now. It’s too painful.

Mando says your name softly and you can sense as he kneels down in front of you. You don’t reply. Gently, he moves your hands away from your face. You still refuse to look at him and he cups your chin, lifting your head up to his.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” You wish you could resist, but you can’t. Not when he speaks to you in that soft tone. Not when he calls you that.

You meet his eye and see all the concern and worry he holds there. “I’m sorry, Mando. I should have listened to you.”

His hand slides up to hold your cheek. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you that way. I could have at least told you why I didn’t want you coming in with me.”

You’re surprised at his apology. Two apologies he didn’t need to make in one day. This isn’t something you ever expected. You assumed he would still be full of heat and anger, not this careful kindness.

“Why didn’t you want me to come in?” you ask. You need to know the reason, need to know why it is he told you to stay behind. No matter how much the reason might hurt.

Mando sighs. “I didn’t want you to come in because I didn’t want anyone else looking at you.”

You pull back out of shock. “What?” Did you hear that correctly? Could that mean what you thought it might?

He takes off his baseball cap and runs a hand through his hair. “What can I say, sweetheart? I’m a jealous man.”

A thousand thoughts run through your mind. There are so many things you want to say, so many questions you want to ask, and yet none of them can find their way out. As a result, you do the only thing you can.

You lean in towards him, slowly, giving him enough time to stop you if he so chooses. He doesn’t though, instead following your lead and moving in closer. You carefully search his eyes for any answers they may hold. Your noses bump and you both pause. “Mando, I-”

He cuts you off. “Din. My name is Din.”

You close the gap and kiss him. The kiss is careful at first, as though you’re both still looking to confirm that yes, this is what you both want. Mand- Din’s lips are soft and sweet against yours and you melt as it’s everything you could have imagined and more. A small moan escapes you, one that you’re embarrassed about until it causes Din to deepen the kiss. Caution evaporates, quickly turning into passion as your tongues meet.

Din moves, getting up from the floor and pushing you back against the bed. His lips never leave yours, devouring you as though you might slip away at any moment. He gives your bottom lip a small nip, quickly soothing it with his tongue. You pull away, needing a moment to catch your breath.

“Is this okay?” Din asks, his voice low with desire. You respond by pulling him back down into another bruising kiss. Your positions shift as the kiss continues, Din’s knee finding its way between your legs as his arms wrap around you. Both of your hands have worked their way into his hair, something you’ve been fantasizing about for months now.

Din begins to kiss his way down your neck, leaving little love bites along the way. You gently tug on his hair, pulling a heavenly sound from him that only intensifies your pool of desire. Desperate for more, you move a hand down, seeking the hem of his shirt and slipping your hand underneath. His skin feels remarkable under your fingertips.

Din pulls away from your neck and quickly divests himself of his shirt. He allows you a moment to take him in, his lean physique flexing as he holds himself above you. Scars litter his body in various shapes and sizes, but you think they look beautiful against the glow of his honeyed skin.

Taking the opportunity, you remove your top as well, leaving you in your basic everyday bra. You wish you had worn your other bra, the sexier one, but with the way Din is looking at you, you’re not sure it matters. His lips return to your body, working his way across any and all of your newly exposed skin. One hand splays on your waist, holding you, grounding Din against you.

“You’re so soft, sweetheart,” Din murmurs against you. His lips find their way up to your chest, placing careful kisses against the globes of your breasts. He pauses and looks up at you, seeking your permission. You arch your back, allowing Din access to slip a hand beneath you and undo the clasp.

He pulls the bra away from you and you flush under the intensity of his gaze. “Perfect, you’re perfect,” Din says before reoccupying his mouth with your breasts. It seems that he has a real oral fixation, not that you mind in the slightest. His warm mouth feels heavenly against you, licking and sucking wherever he can.

Din takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his fingers playing with the other. It’s the best thing you’ve felt in months, better than any of your late night fantasies when you would try to satisfy your growing want for the man currently giving you so much pleasure. As though your attempts could ever come close to the real thing.

Din releases your nipple with a pop and returns to your mouth, licking his way inside. His kiss alone is enough to make you see stars. It makes you forget any other kiss you’ve ever shared, enveloping you in him and him alone.

You pull back slightly from the kiss, unable to take more without further relief. “Din, please, I want you,” you pant into his mouth. Din growls, actually growls, at your words. It's a far hotter response than it should be.

“Yeah, sweetheart? What do you want me to do to you? Tell me.” His knee comes up and presses his thigh against you where you want him most, causing you to moan out his name. “Use your words, sweet girl.”

He’s trying to kill you, you think. Calling you a name like that. Sweet girl. It loops in your mind until Din’s fingers ghost over your nipples again. “I want you to touch me,” you tell him.

“I’m already touching you,” Din says. He’s a tease, you think, growing slightly frustrated with him. His thigh moves against you again though and he’s immediately forgiven.

“Please, Din,” you whine, hoping he’ll take pity on you. Thankfully he does, moving his leg away and quickly removing your pants. You already know you’re soaking, your panties feeling cold against you with the loss of the other cloth barrier.

Din pauses for another moment to take you in before moving. You’re nearly bare before him, almost entirely on display.

“You’re so beautiful,” he compliments, his hands parting your thighs. “So perfect, so beautiful, and all mine.” You can feel yourself clench at his words. No one has ever made you feel this way before. His stare only relaxes you more, his words feeling like a warm blanket wrapping around your fears and quieting them.

Din��s fingers brush against you through the thin cotton. “Is this all for me, sweetheart? I can already feel how wet you are.”

He continues to tease you, only leaving you capable of nodding your head back at him. His eyes catch yours, watching your reaction as he pushes the near useless fabric off to the side and pushes one finger between your folds. Just the small touch sets you aflame, pushing yourself down onto his hand, wanting more.

His finger leaves you and you frown until you watch as he brings it to his mouth and licks your slick off of it. Din moans at the taste. “You taste better than you do in my dreams.”

He leans down to kiss you, sharing the taste of yourself while he pulls your panties off completely. They’re thrown haphazardly into the room, lost to be found for later.

Din then moves himself between your legs, slowly working kisses down your body as he slides back onto his knees on the floor. He grabs your waist and pulls you to the edge of the bed with ease and starts nipping and kissing your inner thighs. Your hands wind back into his hair, while you lie in disbelief that this is really happening right now.

Gentle kisses are placed along your folds, Din moving back as you try to grind your hips down onto him. His eyes catch yours again, mouth hovering over your clit as he speaks. “I’m going to taste you until you cum on my face and then I’m going to fuck you, okay?”

This time you manage a response, frantic to let him know that’s exactly what you want. “Yes, please, I want you so badly, Din.”

It’s all he needs to hear. His mouth comes down on your clit, carefully playing with the bundle of nerves, making you cry out and clench around nothing. He pulls away slightly and then licks a long stripe from bottom to top, pausing again at your clit to give it a teasing suck. Your hands pull at his hair from the attention.

He moves back down, teasing your entrance with his mouth. He moans, lapping up your pussy, acting every part a man dying of thirst who’s found oasis at your core. You buck into him and his hands quickly wrap around your legs, holding your hips in place. Din wants to pleasure you, but on his own terms, at his own speed.

You can’t make a coherent thought as he continues to eat you out. Small snippets of words make their way out of you, none of them making any real sense in conjunction with one another. It’s not until his thumb finds your clit as he continues to lick, suck, and nip at you that you find complete words to shout. “Din, oh god, yes, right there, I’m so close...”

Moments later you feel the tension within you snap, crying out as your body shakes from the overwhelming pleasure. Din continues to work you through your orgasm, only stopping when you physically push his head away from you. He trails hot kisses along your inner thighs again, telling you how beautiful you are, how good you taste, how perfect your pussy is.

As you come down from your high, Din removes the last of his clothes, finally freeing his stiff erection. Your breath catches as you take him in, your Adonis in the flesh. He’s gorgeous, you think, wondering what you did to get so lucky.

Then he’s back over top of you, kissing and sucking at your skin. Some of those are bound to leave marks for tomorrow but you don’t mind. You want everyone to see, for everyone to know that you’re his. No more mistaken assumptions about your relationship, you want it on display for the world.

You look down to catch a better glimpse of his cock, satiating the curiosity that’s plagued you for so long. He’s big. More than enough to fill you, possibly even more than you can handle. As wet as you are, you know you’ll need him to go slow, to slowly stretch you out before he can truly fuck you.

You tilt your hips, bumping against him, letting him know that you want him. “Do you want my fingers first?” Din asks. You know you should say yes, but you can’t imagine another moment without knowing what he feels like inside of you.

“No,” you tell him. “Just go slow.”

Din places a quick searing kiss against your lips and positions himself. The head of his cock presses against your slick entrance and you feel like you’re already seeing stars. Din is muttering in your ear, holding you tightly against him as he pushes into you.

“Fuck, you feel so good sweetheart. So tight and wet for me. I can’t wait to fill you up, to feel every inch of your sweet pussy.”

You nearly forget to breath as he slowly pushes in further. You can feel every inch of him and you only want more. Din’s stream of compliments are interrupted when he finally bottoms out in you, holding himself still as your walls clench and stretch around him. “Fuck, sweetheart.”

You turn your head and pull him into a blazing kiss, loving the way he feels filling you up. You wonder how you were ever satisfied with your fingers before when this had been next to you for so long. Din is apparently thinking along the same lines, whispering to you, “I’d have done this long ago if I knew you felt this good.”

You don’t even have time to consider the words as he slowly begins to move in you. The pleasure borders on agonizing as you begin to move your hips, encouraging him to move faster. Din responds quickly to your urging, setting a furious pace as he begins to lose all control. You know you’ll still be feeling him tomorrow and the thought makes you smile. You never want to go another day without a reminder of how he feels.

His thumb returns to your clit and you don’t have time to warn him before you’re thrown into another orgasm. Your walls clench around him and you lose yourself in the feeling of cumming on his cock. Din quickly follows, pulling out of you just in time to paint your stomach with ropes of his spend. You mourn the loss of him, but once Din finishes he buries himself back inside of you, causing another shock of pleasure to zing through your body.

Din rolls the both of you over, keeping himself sheathed in you, and allowing you to collapse on top of him. You’re both sweaty and panting, trying to come up with words. Din’s fingers lightly trace along your back, causing goosebumps to erupt across your flesh. You lift your head up from his chest in order to look at his face.

He’s completely debauched, sweat causing hair to cling to his forehead, the rest completely wild from your hands. His eyes are still blown wide, happily looking back at you. His lips are pink and swollen from all the kisses and licks he’s pressed into your skin. You know you can’t look much better than him.

You give a small clench around him and smile at the expression that runs across Din’s face. “I love the way you fill me,” you tell him. Din presses a loving kiss against your sweaty forehead.

“I never want to leave this perfect pussy of yours.” You can tell he means it too. If he could, he would stay buried in you forever. You love the way that sounds. His eyes flutter closed, reveling in the feeling of having you surround him.

“Din,” you say.

His eyes pop back open and refocus on you. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

A smile blooms across your face. “Nothing, I just wanted to say it. Din. It suits you.”

His name suits him in a different way than Mando does. Mando is the rough exterior, the front he puts up to the world. The one who punches men in bars for touching you and calling you pet names. The one that strikes fear into others, knowing that if he’s hot on their trail that they’re screwed. Din is the soft inside, the place where all of his ‘sweethearts’ originate, the cause for the hand holding and sparkling smiles. The man behind the armor that he presents to the world, the one who kisses and fills you up just right.

Din’s arms wrap around you tightly, clearly intent on never letting you go. You’re fine with that, letting it sink in that you’re finally laying in bed with the man who’s consumed your thoughts for months. A small, joyous giggle escapes you.

“What’s so funny?” Din asks.

“I thought you were going to leave me earlier. Now here I am, laying on top of you with your cock still inside of me.”

Din chuckles and you can feel it rumble in his chest. “I’m never letting you go sweetheart, no matter how much you piss me off.”

You fold your arms across his chest, letting your chin rest on your hands. “I am sorry. I just wanted you to notice me. I felt like you were treating me like a child,” you confess.

Din’s eyes widen a bit at your admission. “I always notice you, mesh’la. I never meant to treat you that way. I only want to keep you safe.”

“I know that now. Honestly, I feel so silly about it all.” He reaches up and pushes a strand of hair back from your face.

“Next time, I’ll take you in with me. I’ll show everyone that you’re mine.” He grinds his hips up into you to prove his point. It makes you squeal, causing a smirk to settle on Din’s lips. You give his cheek a small flick in retaliation but make no attempt to move.

You lay there for a little while longer, laying your head back down against Din’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat beneath you. His hands trace anywhere he can touch on you, intoxicated by having you so close against him. Eventually though, you feel the call to use the bathroom and can no longer ignore it.

Din is almost painful sliding out of you, but you’re more upset about the loss of having him buried in you. Your legs are shaky as you stand, managing to make it to the bathroom on wobbly knees. You take a moment to clean yourself up, running a damp cloth across your body. Exhaustion hits as you return to bed, crawling under the covers and into Din’s arms.

You begin to drift off when Din asks, “Why’d you get a single? Not that I’m complaining.”

“All they had left. Maybe it was a sign,” you mumble back.

Din chuckles and presses a kiss against your head. “Yeah, maybe, sweetheart.”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #modern!au #modern!din #din djarin fic #pedro pascal x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandocrasis fic

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clonewarslover55 · 4 years ago

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congrats on sticking with the writing for a year! I love reading your stuff and can't wait to see what you put out in the future.

If your still taking requests can I have a bad batch x reader (you can pick which catcher it is) where they aren't together but like each other and have to pretend to be parents to omega to get out of trouble?

(I hope that makes sense. If it doesn't or it doesn't appeal to you, it's alright. I'm just a sucker for Star Wars Dads like the batch and Din😆)

Thanks!

Pretending to be Omega's parents with Hunter

Hunter X GenderNeutral!Reader

Thank you so much anon!! And yes, this makes perfect sense!! I really loved this request actually!

Notes: I chose Hunter because he is the main dad of the group! Also the reader is gender neutral!

Warnings: Spoilers for the Bad Batch, reader has known them for years so this fits together better(established relationship), Reader and Hunter have some mutual pinning going on ;)

You had worked with the Bad Batch throughout most of the Clone Wars, and they considered you a trustworthy assaset. Of course you were a low life like many others in the galaxy.

You worked odd jobs to make ends meet. From Bounty Hunter to smuggler, you had done it all. The Bad Batch loved you and all that you did, especially when you helped them on jobs or with their ship.

Once the war ended you were making good money off of many jobs, well until some certain clones came knocking on your door. You couldn’t say no to your boys, so you willingly welcomed them back into your life.

Now you were on the run with them; your future career in odd jobs possibly went down the drain now that the Empire was on your ass as well. But oh was it fun working with them again. Sadly Crosshair was left behind and now a slave to the Empire instead of the Republic. You’d miss the grouchy bastard. You’d help your boys get him back soon though.

Since the last time you saw them, the Bad Batch had also gained a new member. A sweet little blonde girl named Omega. She was absolutely adorable, and Hunter had clearly adopted her in his head. He’d do anything for that kid.

It was precious. And it only made your attraction to him grow.

You had always liked Hunter a bit more than the others…..In a different way as well. You believed the feeling was mutual. Well, you hoped it was.

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

*The Havoc Marauder,(The Bad Batch’s ship), Space.*

Currently you are sitting in the ship, Omega sitting in your lap. You were telling her a story about some Bounty Job you had done a few years back. It was an incredible story, and of course you were the badass in it.

You exaggerated the story a bit, and Hunter clearly noticed. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, Hunter looking at you with a knowing smirk. You winked at him before turning your full attention back to Omega.

Her eyes were wide as she listened with great interest. Every now and then she’d interrupt you with a question. She was extremely curious, but still a sweetheart.

“We’re nearly there. The market town is rather large but we could still be noticed. The Empire clearly has a hold on the city.” Tech spoke, glancing at everyone in the ship. “The only way in is with disguises.”

You sat down Omega, “We’ll finish the story later.” You whispered, winking at the young girl. She grinned widely, winking back.

Wrecker laughed from the back, setting down the Gonk droid. “Yeah! Our armor does stand out huh?!” He punched Echo’s shoulder, Echo winching and glaring at his brother. You grinned at the boys.

“Oh I have an idea for Hunter and you.” Tech looked at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Tech knew you and Hunter had been pinning after one another for some time, neither of you making a move. So he’d make the move for you both.

You could nearly read their minds at this point. So you knew just what he had in mind. You glared at Tech, “Bastard.” You mouthed, Tech shrugging his shoulders. Hunter raised his eyebrows, glancing at you both.

“What?” Hunter asked, crossing his arms as he stood up from his seat.

“You two go in, wearing civilian clothes of course. Take Omega…..and pretend to be her parents. No one would have any idea who you are. You’d just be a couple out with their child, shopping the day away.” Hunter glanced at you, something alight in his dark eyes.

“I love this idea!!” Omega chirped, grinning widely at you and Hunter. “We’d be a good family!!” Tech and Echo smirked at you and Hunter. Wrecker looked as oblivious as Omega, but still just as happy.

You smiled nervously at Hunter who merely nodded his head. “Fine.” You spoke as you stood up, walking into the back to change your clothes. Hunter patted Tech’s shoulder as passed him, following you.

Tech grinned at the others once you and Hunter left the room. Omega even knew what was going on. A perfect plan to get you two to hook up!

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

*The surface of the planet, the ship docks of the market town*

You walked off the ship, your hand holding Omega’s much smaller one. You, Omega, and Hunter were in similar civilian clothes, looking like an average couple with their daughter.

Echo followed with Tech, Wrecker staying on the ship as backup and as a guard. You grinned at their civilian clothes. Echo looked droid like and Tech was in some ugly outfit. Poor Tech looked uncomfortable while Hunter looked extremely comfortable.

“Alright. Separate ways, we grab what we need and bounce.” Hunter spoke, his firm voice making you pay great attention to him. You stared at his lips as he explained the plan.

“Everyone got it?” You nodded even though you hadn’t really listened…..His lips and handsome face were just that distracting. Tech and Echo left first, swiftly disappearing within the crowd of people.

“Alright then. Come on.” Hunter grabbed Omega’s free hand, leading you and her into the market town crowd.

You gently squeezed Omega's hand, “Have that list memorized sweetie?” You questioned, your voice sweet and dripping with honey. Omega grinned at the nickname, nodding eagerly. “Yup!” Hunter smiled back at his “daughter” and you, a soft look in his dark eyes.

About halfway through your little shopping spree Omega paused, looking at a toy cart. You smiled and pulled away from your “husband.” You led Omega to the cart, holding her tiny hand still. Hunter sighed, following you both.

She picked up a toy clone trooper, looking back at you and Hunter with puppy dog eyes. “How can I say no to that?!” You grinned, tossing the vendor the correct amount of credits.

“You spoil her.” Hunter spoke, putting his arm around you. You shrug, “So do you.” Hunter glared at you playfully, the vendor smiling at you both. “Perhaps.” Hunter spoke, leading you away by your waist; Omega followed, one hand holding Hunter’s and the other holding her new toy.

Once you two had all the goods you stopped, out of the way of the crowd of course. “We do make a decent couple don’t we?” You whispered quietly, Hunter’s face inches from yours so he could hear you.

Hunter nodded, Omega ignoring you both as she watched the crowd pass. “We should do this more often shouldn’t we?” He spoke, teasingly brushing his nose against yours. Your face got hot, a wide smile coming onto your face.

“Yes we should.” You whispered, your eyes flicking to his lips. Hunter smirked, finally connecting his lips with yours.

The wonderful kiss was interrupted by Omega screaming, “Ew!!! Tech! Echo! They’re kissing!!!!” You busted out laughing as she screamed over the comms. Hunter clearly died a little bit, hiding his face in your neck.

You laughed harder when you heard the laughing replies. “We’ll never live this down will we?” Hunter questioned. You shrugged, “I hope not.” You muttered, pressing your lips to his once again.

Tags: @leias-left-hair-bun @catsnkooks @azem-thefourteenth @colorfulloverbatturkey @blueberrybubblesandboba @ahsokatano-thetogruta @jedi-mando @peacefulwizardfox @hounding-around @julyzaa @feathersforclones @chr0nicbackpain @fyrepen33 @mistflyer1102 @kamino-mermaid @cherry-cokes-posts @cherry-cokes-world @darmanfi @silverinkandstardust @chewychewyque @majorshiraharu @ravenpuff01 @808tsuika @meabravo @daffodin @commanderrivercc-3628 @captainrexstan @girlvader @ct7567329 @just-some-girl-92 @marvel-starwars-nerd @valkyrieofthehighfae @my-awakened-ghost @mackstrut @katethecrazy @lightning-wolffe @dominhoe-squad @qui-gon-jinn-and-tonic

Want to join my taglist? The link is on my materlist!!

#the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #clone force 99 #bad batch spoilers #bad batch #sergeant hunter #tech #wrecker #echo #arc trooper echo #crosshair #omega #hunter x reader

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amxranthiine · 4 years ago

Text

c i c a t r i z e (aragorn x reader) pt. ii

cicatrize (v.) to find healing by the process of forming scars. Pronouns: She/Her

A/N: Welcome to part two! I’ve been working on this part for three days and it was getting a little long, so I saved Weathertop for chapter three. This chapter is 2.7k (or more) words. I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Some swearing, alcohol consumption, Nazgûl, the usual. Summary: Y/n is Aragorn’s childhood best friend. However, when they got older, Y/n’s feelings towards her long time friend changed, but he is infatuated with the Evenstar. Out of heartbreak, she leaves Rivendell and sets off on her own, leaving her love and all she ever knew. When Elrond’s Council takes place, Y/n is forced back to her home and everything she ever knew.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ Present Time Y/n POV Ale dribbled down my chin as I gulped down what seemed to be my hundredth Pint. In truth, I lost count after my... sixth? Seventh? I needed to drink away my sorrows after the day I had. I received a letter from Gandalf the Grey when the sun was at it’s peak, babbling on about the One Ring, how it was in the hands of a Hobbit named Baggins, and how I needed to make my way to the Prancing Pony in Bree as soon as possible. And, of course, that I needed to keep a look out for the Hobbit in the Prancing Pony, and bring him to Rivendell. What a way to start the day, I had only awoken not an hour prior!

Gods, I needed a drink. After the initial shock of knowing that the One Ring had indeed been found, I, not so happily, packed my few possessions into a warn out bag and went on my merry way. After leaving Rivendell almost seven decades ago, I had travelled all across Middle Earth, never staying in one place for too long. Though it’s been sixty-seven years since I left my entire life behind (in more than one way), I was still frightened- or was it ashamed? Ashamed. Yes, that was it. I was ashamed of how I left, why I left. Just leaving everything I’ve ever known because I was jealous and heartbroken. Over a guy! Only, he wasn’t just any guy. Yes, he is. I am and have been over him. Are you absolutely positive? No. Exactly. Fine, I admit! But how could I get over someone I’ve known since I learned how to walk? Not so easily, it seems. Perhaps that was why I was sulking in the Prancing Pony, downing ale after ale, trying to ignore the pure dread of having to see him again. Maybe he won’t be there? Maybe his adventures led him elsewh- My “what if’s” and “maybe’s” were cut short by a large shadow looming over me. Peering up at the owner of said shadow with the mug raised to my lips, I nearly choke at the sight. There he is, the man who has haunted my dreams for sixty-seven years. And, oh Valar, he aged like the finest Mirkwood wine. Sobering up immediately, I quickly placing the mug on the table and wipe my mouth with my sleeve, I greet him with a quiet “Hello?” Though, it sounds more like a question.

He doesn’t greet me in return, much to my pleasure. He just gestures to the seat next to me. “May I?” I numbly nod, though my eyes don’t leave him. Once he is seated, I glance down at my hands and take a deep breath. “What are you doing here, Aragorn?” My tone takes him off guard, it’s cold, hostile. As if I was talking to a stranger, which, in a way, he was. His face holds nothing but shock, with traces of hurt within the grey depths of his eyes. “Business from Gandalf,” Aragorn mumbles as he waves down a waitress. I look at him again, but this time I notice everything that’s changed about him. His hood is up, covering his eyes for all but me. His face is more defined, and there is a trace of stubble along his sharp jaw. He’s buffer, too. His muscles are prominent even under his many layers of clothing. I would be a liar if I said he didn’t look good. However, he also looked... nostalgic. Memories upon memories rushed to the front of my brain as I relived what we used to be. Oh, Mandos, I think I’m catching feelings. Again. “It’s been a while, Y/n.” I blink, looking away from him with a blush. You foolish woman, Y/n! He most definitely knows you were checking him out. Clearing my throat, I simply say “Yeah,” and look around for the Hobbit I’m supposed to be watching for. I could his gaze burning into the side of my head, watching my intently. “You left without saying goodbye,” he mentions with an edge to his tone. I sigh and close my eyes, I really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. Or ever. Never would be good. “Didn’t think you’d care.” I said, shrugging. Good going, Y/n. Is that really the only intelligent thing you could come up with in that tiny head of yours? In my peripheral vision I see him tense, and his eyes widen considerably. What did he expect me to say? That I was sorry for leaving all those years ago? That I was so desperately in love with him that the sight of him embracing Arwen Undómiel was too much to bear? No, my pride could never admit that, especially not now. “You didn’t think I would care? Y/n, are you ins-” Aragorn starts with what sounds like a hiss. I hold my finger up to shush him as four Hobbits walk into the Inn, soaked to the bone. The leader, a tall-ish Hobbit with curly black hair, approaches the bar and I can practically feel the evil radiating off of him in waves. I knew he was the one I was looking out for, he was Baggins. Aragorn gives me a ‘we will talk about this later’ look, yet still follows my gaze. His body language changes drastically when he spots the small men and I instantly know we were sent here for the same reason. “Gandalf sent us on the same quest, it seems.” I mumble as my eyes follow the Hobbit’s every move. Something was... off about them, ignoring the presence of the Ring. They seemed nervous, as though they were waiting for someone. Baggins, or Underhill, as he was called, looked exhausted. The true weight of the Ring was finally making itself known. As the four sat down at a table in the middle of the room, my eyes wandered over Underhill’s companions. The blonde next to him was on the bigger side, he had unruly curls as all Hobbits do, and he seemed the to the more cautious one out of his companions. The two across from him carried a carefree and youthful energy, both with almost golden hair. The blonde one looked around the room with distrust before his eyes landed on Aragorn and I. We were watching them carefully, Aragorn had his pipe in his mouth, and I held my mug snuggly within my fingers. I suppose our watchful gazes set off alarms in the small Hobbit’s head. He elbowed Underhill and whispered something to him, nodding his head towards the two of us. Underhill eyed us, I could see the suspicion and fear growing within him as he took in our appearances. Suddenly, he gestured to Butterbur as he passed by, and over the loudness of the Inn, I barely heard him ask, “The two in the corner, who are they?” Butterbur glanced at us warily before replying, “They’re two of them Rangers; dangerous folk they are, wandering the wilds. What their right names are, I’ve never heard, but round here they’re known as Strider and Randir.” Underhill looked at us again, “Strider and Randir,” he seemed to whisper as he nervously played with something under the table. Time seemed to slow as the younger one of the golden haired Hobbits seemed to yell for all the world to hear, “Baggins? Sure I know a Baggins!” Every pair of eyes flew to the young Hobbit, but he seemed oblivious for he kept speaking. “He’s over there, Frodo Baggins!” He pointed to Underhill, “He’s my second cousin, once removed, on his mother’s side and my third cousin, twice removed on his father’s side... if you follow me.” I sighed deeply and watched as Frodo raced to the golden haired boy, gripping his arm and shouting, “Pippin!” “Steady on, Frodo!” Pippin says, then pushes Frodo away. Frodo stumbled back, losing his balance on one of the many pairs of feet crowded around him. He falls, the Ring flying out of his pocket as gravity takes control. Aragorn and I watch with steady eyes, we could not let anyone near the small, childlike creatures. You never know who may be a spy, waiting, like a jaguar, for the precise moment to pounce. A small hand reaches out to grab the evil jewel, but it just slips through his fingers a moment too late. I wince as Frodo hits the ground, a loud “oomph!” leaving his mouth at impact. Though, my eyes never leave the jewel that seems to be calling my name, tugging at my heartstrings, as it made it’s graceful down a child sized finger. The owner of said finger was none other than Frodo, and the entire Inn gasped in horror as he vanished from sight. There is complete silence for a moment, and Aragorn and I jolt up, preparing ourselves for the chaos that is to come. And chaos it is. Excited, and slightly horrified, chatter explodes throughout the Prancing Pony. I look to each of the Hobbits once more. The blonde hobbit is as pale as a ghost, looking deathly ill with panic. Pippin, who seemed to realize his folly quickly, sobers up quickly. The unnamed one seems to be a mix of the two, a look of complete and utter bewilderment clear as day on his features. Aragorn and I spot Frodo as he reappears in a dark corner, shaking like a leaf and as pale as the wraiths that hunt him. Hidden in the shadows, we stride over to him, unseen by all in the Inn. The man reaches him first, however, and grabs Frodo by the cloak and drags him up the stairs to a dark room. “You draw far too much attention to yourself.. Mr. Underhill.” Aragorn hisses. I roll my eyes at his actions. “You could have been a little kinder to the poor boy, look at him! He looks like he’s seen Sauron himself.” I point out with a small grin, but it vanishes in a second with the look Frodo gives me. It was wide eyed, portraying the terrifying truth in my words. He had, indeed, seen Sauron himself. Aragorn ignores my statement and draws the attention back to himself as he looms over Frodo. “What do you want?” The quiver in the Hobbit’s voice is prominent when he asks this. Estel turns away for a moment to put out the bright and blazing candles. “A little more caution from you, that is no trinket you carry.” He replies. “I carry nothing,” Frodo lies. I watch the situation with interest, though I say nothing. The terror of the Ring was clearly effecting him, and having Aragorn and I practically kidnap him was likely not helping. “Indeed?” The taller man hums. “I can avoid being seen if I wish. But to disappear entirely? That is a rare gift.” He states as he finally reveals his face and the mess that is his hair. I gape at him as I take in his aged features, this time I really inspect him. His grey eyes, his lips, his hair... He was seemingly flawless. Stop it, you stupid girl! You have a task at hand! Shaking my head to clear those impeccably true thoughts, I barely hear Frodo whisper, “Who are you?” “Are you frightened?” This time, it was I who spoke, bringing the attention of both males to me. I say those words with a slight edge to my tone, and it could sound like mockery if we weren’t currently in a dire situation. Frodo looks me dead in the eyes. “Yes,” he says honestly, I almost laugh. “Not nearly frightened enough,” I uttered lowly, and narrowed my eyes. “We know what hunts you.” Aragorn adds, making me grimace. The Nazgûl were nasty, terrible creatures who should have stayed dead and rotting in their tombs. A noise from the corridor bursts our eerie bubble, and the three of us jump towards the door. In come three determined Hobbits carrying a chair, a candlestick and fists as weapons. I had to admit, their bravery was to be commended. The blonde one bellowed, “Let him go or I’ll have you, Longshanks!” I couldn’t help it, but I burst into laughter, giggles spewing from my mouth as I recounted what just happened. Maybe it was the ale, or maybe the fact that I haven’t spent more than thirty minutes in another persons presence in sixty-seven years, but that comment was the funniest shit I’ve heard in a long time. Everyone in the room turned towards me with bewilderment and confusion written all over them, making me laugh even harder. I had tears rolling down my face and my cheeks and stomach hurt from my sudden chortling. After a few moments, my hysterics died down a bit, demoting themselves to light chuckles every so often. “I- I’m sorry,” I babbled. “Please, go on,” I smiled and waved my hand in a dismissive manner. The five men looked utterly disturbed and puzzled, but it was Aragorn who finally said something, though it was quite dark and ominous. “You have a stout heart, little Hobbit, but that alone won’t save you.” He turned to Frodo, “You can no longer wait for the Wizard, Frodo. They are coming.” After that we quickly devised a plan, and quietly made our way to the Hobbits room and stuffed pillows under the sheets to make it look like little people sleeping. Then, we grabbed all of their packs and brought them to Aragorn’s room, and we waited for the inevitable. It had to have been two hours of silence before a single word was said by any of us. The Hobbits had already gone to bed, snuggled side by side on the large mattress. Aragorn and I sat across from each other by the window, watching for any sign of the dark servants. I was playing with my dagger, twirling it between my fingers and stabbing it into the wood of the window sill, lost in my many degrading thoughts. “Why did you leave?” Aragorn finally asked. I looked up to see him watching me intently. I stilled, dumbfounded. Out of all the things he could have said, he asked that? Gracious me, we are supposed to be watching out for the Black Riders, not sharing sob stories! Trying to think of a semi-intelligent, semi-vague answer, I finally came up with “My heart led me elsewhere.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth. Before he could respond, however, I spot four Nazgûl riding into Bree. “Aragorn,” I call out and point to them as they make their way inside. The air thickens as heavy footsteps come up the stairs. I hold my breath, as does Aragorn, even the Hobbits seemed to stop breathing. Please, Valar, let us go unnoticed. It seems fate was feeling generous, the Ringwraiths strut right into the trap. And they stab. Over and over again, right into the pillows we set up just for them. I wince when I realize that it have very well been the Hobbits in place of those pillows if we hadn’t done something. Suddenly a deadly screech fills the air, followed by three others. No doubt they discovered the trap, and were positively pissed. I listen intently as they fled the Inn, and as they mounted their black steeds and left Bree, I hear multiple identical screams in the distance. My shoulders drop and I instantly breathe a sigh of relief. It worked. Our plan worked. “What are they?” Frodo’s quiet voice questions from behind me. I look back to see him wide awake and seated on the edge of the bed. “They were once Men. Great Kings of Men. Then Sauron the deceiver gave to them Nine Rings of Power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question, one by one falling into darkness. Now they are slaves to his will.” Aragorn answers grimly. Sensing that he wasn’t going to say any more, I add on to his statement. “They are the Nazgûl, Ringwraiths, neither living or dead. At all times they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the one...” I trailed off. Our two voices fill the air in unison as we conclude, “They will never stop hunting you.” ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ TAGLIST @entishramblings (please tell me using my ask box if you want to be tagged in future chapters)

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captainkirkk · 4 years ago

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So I get that George Lucas recently said that Jedi can fuck only if they dont get feelings (he knew obi was getting around), but i really enjoy that luke was never taught that. yoda and obi died before they could tell him dont get messy feelings for mando sure their ghosts can yell at him but they cant like throw things at him

Is Obi-Wan getting around canon or just widely-accepted fanon? Either way, it kills me but I love it (bonus points for Anakin either having no idea and being totally oblivious or being absolutely horrified)

#ask #anon #also yes to luke fucking around and getting attached

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rogueonestan · 4 years ago

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wopc : chapter 3- the connection

pairing: the mandalorian x f!reader/ ofc

word count: 4.1k

warnings: minimal canon violence (that trandoshan scene from 1x02)

summary: after bringing to the peace to the land of Arvala-7, you and the Mandalorian begin to make your way back to the Crest when three uninvited guests join your travels.

previous part | when our paths cross masterlist | main masterlist | next part

You never thought you could ever be this exhausted after a hunt, and you haven’t even made it back to the Crest yet.

After you and Mando were able to successfully disband the mini-city of mercenaries, you began making your way back to the Crest with the asset by your sides when you were suddenly ambushed by three Trandoshans, the same ones you felt staring at you back at the cantina on Nevarro.

As you and Mando turned to walk down yet another lengthy pathway, something felt off. You kept looking over your shoulder, again and again, to see if you could spot anything out of the ordinary, but the only thing that caught your eye was a few small reptile creatures that would come out of their hiding spots once your figure got further away from them. Everything seemed fine but you should’ve known better than the trouble on this trip wouldn’t have ended once you left the mini-city.

The words ‘I got a bad feeling about this’ were on the tip of your tongue, but before you were able to open your mouth to say them, one of the Trandoshans suddenly appears right in front of you and knocks you down to the ground with a harsh shove. When your body collides to the floor, your head hits on the edge of a nearby at a weird angle. Luckily the area between the base of your neck and your head is the area that hits the rock, so the injury isn’t as fatal as it could’ve been, a wave of pain flutters throughout your body. The pain is so intense, however, that you are unable to aid your partner in combat. Luckily, after a few minutes of resting, you were able to get back on your feet and continue the journey back to the ship, all thanks to your partner.

As the two of you continue your walk, you’re grateful for the silence that falls between you.

You’re not even sure if you would even be able to make conversation at this point because of the aching pain that’s in your head. You don’t dare to mention anything to your partner because all you want to do right now is to sleep in your quarters.

The throbbing pain in your head eventually begins to subdue over time. Before, all you could focus on is the pain and just muscle through it, but now, you’re finally able to focus on your surroundings and admire them. For example, you’re able to see the occasional fauna scurry off to the side as you and Mando pass by them. The sight of the creatures, even if it’s for a few seconds, puts a smile on your face because Arvala-7 doesn’t have much to offer. Besides the cliffs that linger on the upper levels and the rocks and fauna that reside where you currently are, there isn’t much to see.

You don’t notice how late it’s getting until your partner mentions something.

“We should make camp soon.” He suggests as he looks over in your direction.

“Yeah,” you say as you take notice of the now night sky.

The bright oranges that complimented the sunshine is now replaced with a dark, gloomy purple sky. Speckles of stars also glitter up the sky, acting as a natural light source to help guide you.

“We should also check on the little one to make sure he’s okay.” You propose as your partner nods his head in agreement as you continue with your travels.

It’s not long after that you find a suitable spot to make camp for the night. The area that you decided to rest at is an open area where the only options to rest are on a slab of rock or on top of the dirt. It’s not ideal but you have no other choice.

You join your partner’s side and lean up against a large slab of rock- it’s uncomfortable but it’s better than sleeping on the cold floor. Taking off the strap of the bag that you take everywhere with you, you begin to settle in for the night. You’re about to close your eyes and try to get some sleep, but you hear a series of grunts to your right. Once you find the source of the noise, you find your partner is using some sort of heat pen to try to mend his wound, the same item that you’ve seen him use to make small repairs on the Crest. Just glancing at the wound he’s trying to mend, you can’t imagine how much pain he’s currently in as he tries to heal it with the tool in his hand.

Before you’re able to do anything about it, another sound to your right catches your attention. You find the green little baby has made his way out of his pram and is slowly walking towards the Mandalorian. As he gets closer to Mando, one of his arms reaches out as his eyes squint shut in concentration. A faint humming sound reaches your ears and the sound only intensifies as the little one gets closer to the injured man.

A soft groan leaves the baby’s lips as he uses all of his strength to reach out in front of him, but Mando, oblivious to the baby’s true intentions, scoops the baby up in his arms and places him back in the pram where he belongs.

After seeing what you just witnessed, you feel even more curious about the baby than ever.

Upon meeting the little one, you’re not sure what was about him, but something seemed different about him like something was pulling you towards him when you first entered that room. You haven’t felt an immediate connection to anyone like this since the rise of the Empire. There’s just something different about him that entices you. You can’t exactly pinpoint it, but the slight humming that you can feel in the air around you isn’t something you experienced since you were younger, since you first began your journey.

Thoughts about the baby, where he’s from, how he got to be in an abandoned building in the first place, roam your mind. How long has the Empire been looking for him? But the thoughts stop when you hear the grunts to your right continue and become louder than they were before.

“What the hell are you doing?” You ask as you immediately sit up and look at your partner with a horrified look on your face.

Mando doesn’t say anything at first, mainly gesturing at his wound on the bicep, “healing.”

“Why don’t you use some bactaspray?”

“It’s not that bad-“

You scoff at him as you rummage through your bag, “give me your arm.” You say with a slightly assertive tone as you kneel in front of him. Mando doesn’t budge, his visor only continuing to look at you, “please?” You plead this time.

Letting out a deep sigh, he relents, as he gives you permission to help him by moving his body towards you. Lightly placing a hand on his elbow, you lean towards Mando and before you apply the medication to his wound, you look up in his visor and give him a warning, asking, “ready?” With his approval, you begin spraying the affected area. Upon immediate contact, Mando lets out a muffled groan of pain. A mumbled ‘sorry’ escapes from your lips as you look away from his wound to see his reaction. His visor doesn’t help you whatsoever, but you can tell the medication is already taking effect by his body language. The rapid rise and fall of his chest from before is now replaced with his chest taking in deep breaths. As you glance down at the affected area, what catches your eye isn’t the traces of blood that remain, but the tan skin that now peeks through the tear of his tunic.

Lightly squeezing his elbow, you let go of your grip on him but not before your hand now lingers above his exposed skin.

Your fingers ghost a few inches above his exposed skin, but before you make skin-to-skin contact, you quickly remove your hand and have it lay on top of your thigh. A deep sigh leaves your lips when you get up from your kneeled position, trying your best to get as comfortable as you possibly can when you lay against the slab of rock, “just ask next time.” You comment with your eyes closed.

The moment you close your eyes, though, you suddenly hear a loud noise coming from your right. Craning your neck as far as you possibly can, another sigh leaves your lips as you find Mando reamending his cuirass with the same tool that he was trying to heal his wound earlier. Instead of bothering your partner for a second time, you try your best to at least get some rest.

But before you’re able to, you vaguely hear your partner saying something. Reopening your eyes, the first thing you see are big, brown owl-like eyes. You move to scoop him up in your arms so you can try to get some rest, but as soon as his hand touches your arm, a series of memories from your past begin flooding your mind.

The first memory that runs through your mind is one from when you were younger.

With your hands clasped, you run down the halls alongside your best friend. After finishing your training for the day, you and your best friend decided to let loose and roam free of the premises. Giggles are exchanged between the two of you when you accidentally collide with one of the older individuals of the facility. The older gentleman that you knocked into scolds you, telling you that you need to slow down, but your friend only pulls on your arm so can you continue to race down the halls. You mutter out a ‘sorry’ as your friend continues to tug on your arm.

As you continue to weave up and down multiple hallways, you turn your head to glance at your best friend, only to find that a huge smile is on their face as laughter escapes from their lips.

“Where are we even going?” You ask.

“It’s a surprise.” Shaking your head, you laugh alongside them.

You’ve never felt this free before.

The second memory that flashes through your mind is one that you’ve tried so hard to forget.

Running in the mud alongside one of the many swamps that could be found on Saleucami, adrenaline fills your body as you try to run as fast as you possibly can. A cloud of tears blocks your vision as you try to recollect everything that happened within the past hour.

Everything went normal as always then something changed. You’re not sure when, or why, but one moment you were waiting for your mentor to return from a quick patrol when your allies by your side suddenly turned on you.

While you were waiting, a dark cloud took control of the minds of your allies- thoughts of hatred entering their minds as they aimed their weapons at you. Luckily for you, you were able to escape their attack with minimal injuries, but fear still lingers in your system as you run as far and as fast as you can.

With your weapon in your hand, you try your best to focus on the task at hand. You need to find some way off of this planet.

“Where is she?” You can hear a voice ask from a distance.

“She couldn’t have gone that far. Take a speeder and scan the area.” Another voice says.

You can hear the sound of a speeder’s engine warming up as they quickly drive away.

Upon hearing this, you quickly make your way in the opposite direction- a small attempt of avoiding another fight and being spotted.

Hiding behind a rather large tree, you’re finally able to catch your breath. You’re not sure of how long you’ve been running but you know this fight is far from over.

Now, you need to find some way off of this planet before it’s too late. Maybe there’s some sort of settlement that you can rest at for a short while.

The next memory that flashed through your mind was even darker than the previous.

After all of the years of surviving from the Empire, you’ve been able to know when something’s off. You felt it when your allies suddenly turned on you on that fatal day and you could feel it now. Taking your weapon from your side, you prepare yourself for the upcoming fight that you can sense.

“I see nothing has changed.”

The blood flowing through your veins suddenly turns cold upon hearing this voice. The voice that once brought you warmth and joy when you were younger now only brings fear in you where you stand now. The friend that you thought you had when you were younger has been gone for a long time and is now replaced with someone you don’t recognize. The lightness of your friend’s voice is now replaced with one that’s only filled with hate- a coldness you wish you never saw.

“I wish I could say the same.” You say with a shaky breath as you turn around. You try to keep your emotions together, something you were taught to do along your friend’s side many years ago.

“You were always so quick to fight- never waiting. I wonder what your precious Rebel friends would think of you if they knew the truth. How much you’ve fallen.” They spat at you.

You say nothing in response as tears now run down your face. Even though your mind tells you that everything you’ve done up to this point has been for the greater good- some of your actions go directly against what you were taught as a child, but you did it to survive.

“What would they think of you? What would they call you?”

“A survivor.” The words come out as a whisper, more of you reminding yourself-justifying the actions of your past.

The final memory that goes through your head is one that’s not as dark as the others- one that you remember distinctly before everything changed for the worst.

Sitting crisscrossed on your bed with your eyes closed, you try to focus on the fresh air that enters your lungs. After being assigned a simple patrolling mission of a deserted planet, you wanted to clear your head before you met up with your mentor to leave. Your palms rest against your knees comfortably as you continue with the breathing exercises you’ve been taught. Taking in a deep breath, you’re brought out of your trance by the sound of gentle knocks on your door.

“Come in.” You say as you reopen your eyes. Seeing that it’s your mentor, you immediately uncross your legs, beginning to get up when the woman in front of you holds a hand out, silently telling you to stop.

“My young one,” she begins, “I have a gift for you before we embark on our journey.” With the calm tone you’ve familiarized yourself since you met her merely a year ago, “It is a tradition for a young one, such as yourself, to be given a gift by their mentor at around your age, so I wanted to give you yours before we left.” The gentle tone of her voice removes any anxiety you were feeling before you left for the mission. You can’t help but feel at ease with her by your side.

With both of her arms stretched out, a simple black box rests in her hands. As you take the box from her hands, she continues, “my own mentor gave this to me and I believe it’s the right thing for me to do the same.”

When you open the box, a simple crystal rests inside. Taking the crystal in your hand, you lift it in the air as the sunlight reflects off of it. Shadows of the reflection bounce off of your bedroom walls as you admire the gift.

“A crystal?” You inquire with your head tilting, “but I-“

“This one’s special.” She insists, “this one is unlike any other one you will have seen before- you will need to connect with it. Only then, will you understand.” With that, she leaves the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Lifting the crystal into the air again, seeing how the sunlight reflects off of it, you quickly place it in your pocket, not knowing the importance it would bring you in the future.

A sharp exhale leaves your lips as memories from your past no longer plague your mind. Your breathing only continues to get heavier as you try to take in everything that you just experienced.

Thought after thought enters your brain as you try to comprehend what just happened, how it happened. You can now feel the necklace that’s been resting against your chest is now being pulled by an unseen force. To your right, you find the mysterious baby is somehow pulling at the crystal that’s resting on your chest.

Once again, you can hear a slight humming in the air as the baby is in close proximity to you. It’s like a slight breeze against grass- faint but still there.

Grabbing the piece of jewelry in your hand, the little hand that was once held out in front of you is now resting against the baby’s side.

You get up from the hard floor and scoop the baby up in your arms as you walk towards his pram- hopefully he’ll actually stay there this time.

When you glance down at the owl-like eyes that are staring at you, you can’t help but wonder if he had the weird experience that you had. You’ve never had such an odd experience as this for as long as you can remember. One moment you’re trying to fall asleep for the night, the next you’re reliving the best and worst memories that you can think of.

“Don’t give me that look.” You warn the little one as you gently put him back in his pram.

“What did you mean before?” Mando asks you once you retake your seat next to him.

“When?” You ask as you look in his direction.

“Earlier- you said that you knew someone of its kind.”

“Oh, that,” You trail off as you lay back down next to your partner, “they were someone I trusted when I was younger. They helped train me, taught me that lightness and darkness aren’t two separate things, but rather, one cannot live without the other.”

“Oh.”

“Not only was he one of the wisest teachers I’ve ever had, but he also was a dear friend.” Mando doesn’t say anything in response, only nodding as he reflects on your words.

Silence fills the air as the three of you rest up for the following day. The only sounds that could be heard are created by the local wildlife. You can hear soft snores coming from the other two but you, on the other hand, cannot keep your eyes closed for longer than five minutes. Whenever your eyes begin to droop, millions of thoughts scramble in your mind.

The memories you re-experienced earlier keep replaying in your head over and over again. When the baby’s hand touched your skin, you felt a sensation that you haven’t felt in years. It’s a similar feeling you had when you were younger- when you first met your best friend all of those years ago. Like it was fate that both of your paths crossed. Did the kid feel the same thing? Does he feel the same pull towards you as you feel? With this in mind, you can’t help but feel guilty by the thought of giving the child to Imperial hands. Not only because he’s a vulnerable child, but also because you can’t help but think that somehow you were supposed to meet this mysterious child. Like your journey with him is far from over.

The more you think about this possibility, the more you reflect on the limited time you’ve spent with the green little baby. Even before you met him, you felt like something was off. On Nevarro, you felt like something was wrong when you first received the bounty but you brushed it off as it

was because it included former Imperials- not because it was something so much more. When you entered that room, you could feel the pull towards the baby without even realizing it. You just knew there’s something about this child that you could feel a connection to. You can’t exactly put your finger on it, but you’ve experienced a similar attraction towards someone before and it lead you towards the path that eventually lead you to Mando.

Maybe your path was supposed to be linked with this child, not Mando. No. You disregard the thought from your head. There’s no way that your paths are supposed to emerge. The only journey that you’re supposed to have with this child is limited- only for a few days at most, you tell yourself.

You remind yourself that you can’t get attached to the baby. If you do, it’ll only make it that much harder to actually go through with the bounty. And even if you did want to, how would you mention this to your partner? How would you even begin to explain everything that you’ve been feeling ever since you entered that Imperial-occupied building on Nevarro? Would you have to tell him everything and just hope that he would believe you?

Unlike your partner, the stars looming above you are awake and as bright as ever. As you glance over them, a feeling of peace overwhelms you. No more thoughts running through your brain at a pace faster than you can keep up with. No matter where you are in the galaxy, you’ve always felt at peace whenever you look at the midnight sky. It’s always been comforting to you to know that even though you’re just a tiny speck of the galaxy, you’ll always feel at home by looking at space. Whether it’s whenever you’re traveling to another planet with Mando or you’re making camp for the night, like tonight, glancing at the empty sky puts you at ease. Maybe it’s because nothing in the sky is in a rush like you are. With your lifestyle, you’re always on the move, but the stars always stay put. It may seem dumb when you put it that way, but you’ve always found solace whenever you glance at the night sky.

The longer you see the stars twinkle, the calmer you feel. Even if it’s just for a moment, you don’t worry about anything- not what you’ve experienced over the past day or what the next day will bring.

Even when life is going at an alarmingly fast rate, you were always taught to take everything in and live in the moment- to reflect on everything.

The pants that escaped from your chest earlier are now replaced with deep breaths as you continue to lazily look at the sky above you. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Even with the stars calming your nerves, you can’t help but think of how things will be so different once you and Mando return back to Nevarro. During this short amount of time, you’ve never gone this attached to someone before only after a few days. By this time tomorrow, you’ll probably be flying off to another planet with Mando as you continue with the busy bounty hunting lifestyle that you’ve gotten used to by now. The little one will no longer be in your lives. Only another successful bounty that the Guild will remember you for.

But as you skim over your partner’s unconscious form, you wonder if he’s feeling as uneasy as you are. Usually, the bounties you bring in are people who usually deserve it- people who skipped bail, were sympathizers of the Empire, but never helpless children. If you both crossed this line, would there ever be a limit? Would you just do what you were told just like you did during the war?

You don’t know what your future will bring, but your journey with the Mandalorian and the little one is just beginning.

tags (let me know if you want to be added): @unstoppableforcce @remmysbounty @ayamenimthiriel @randomness501 @itspauvr @sarahjkl82-blog

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ahsokadrabbles · 4 years ago

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𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞 [the mandalorian x reader]

the mandalorian and the reader travel to the ghost town of mos pelgo in search of someone to lead the child to others of its kind. (part one of an ongoing series.)

this fic was born after listening to the song devil’s back bone by the civil wars perhaps a few times too many. if you haven’t heard it, i highly encourage you to check it out here because it’s a great song. i was inspired by the idea of loving a man who has committed many wrongs, but for the right cause, and then immediately thought of din. anyways, i’ve had this one on my mind for a while so i really hope you enjoy it. happy reading!

word count: 5k

warnings: angst, alcohol, your usual run of the mill rowdiness

The Mandalorian and you had a simple relationship. You were to care for and watch over his son when he couldn't, which happened to be quite often due to his demanding lifestyle. In return he housed you, fed you, and provided you with protection when necessary. Nothing more, nothing less, right? That was the way the rugged bounty hunter saw things, but you on the other hand felt differently. Something about his stone-cold demeanor drew you in. He was strong and brave, intimidating, and feared, and all of those characteristics stirred something deep within you.

But to him, you were only the Child's caretaker. Nothing more, nothing less.

You rolled over on your cot to face the wall, your eyes still blurred from sleep. Groggily you felt around the folds of your sheets until you grasped a small rock with one pointy end that you had collected from a planet you had long since left. You and the bounty hunter traveled so often that all the planets and systems had begun to blur together. You never paid much attention to where you were anyway. You could be on the most beautiful planet, covered with white sands and clear seas, yet you would still be more entranced by the mysterious Mandalorian.

You scratched another line into the wall and counted how many were there. You had been traveling with the Mandalorian for 124 days, give or take a cycle as you had only started keeping track a few weeks after you boarded the Razorcrest. It looked as if you were a prisoner counting the days they spent locked away, but really you were tracking how long it was taking for the Mandalorian to finally see you. Not just with his eyes, but deeper than that. To you, it seemed like your infatuation was painfully obvious, but maybe the warrior was oblivious, or just completely ignoring you. It was probably the latter.

You sat upright in bed as your vision cleared the rest of the way and caught a glimpse of the Mandalorian putting on his chest plate.

"Sorry," You muttered, immediately placing your hand over your eyes.

Seeing Mando without his armor might as well have been seeing him naked. And seeing him without his helmet would probably end in your untimely demise.

You liked to think he wouldn't kill you, but sometimes you really weren't sure.

"It's okay," His deep and muffled voice replied, watching as you sheepishly removed your hands from your eyes.

You could hear the child cooing over in Din's half of the room so you climbed out of bed to go fetch him. You hummed a soft and sweet good morning to the baby before sweeping him up into your arms and planting a kiss on his wrinkled forehead.

"Where are we headed?" You asked as you bounced the child in your arms, earning you a fit of soft giggles from him.

"Tatooine." Mando bluntly answered.

As usual, he wasn't much for words.

"And we'll arrive today?" You guessed, pointing the baby in the direction of its father who he was making grabby hands at.

"We should land in an hour or so. We're meeting a friend of mine at her hangar."

Your brain got stuck on the word 'her'. You didn't even think the Mandalorian had friends, especially not lady friends. You swallowed your jealousy and handed the baby to the man.

"Spend some time with him while I get dressed. I'll be up to make breakfast in a second." You told him, watching as he took the baby with a gentleness that did not match his hardened exterior.

When you finished getting dressed, you climbed up the ladder into the upper quarters. You were immediately blinded by the light of the bright suns of Tatooine as you exited the darkness of the lower bunks.

"That was quick." You muttered, squinting as your eyes adjusted to the light.

You strapped in for the landing, clutching the child close to your chest as the turbulence rattled the ship's interior. You and the Mandalorian both let out your usual sigh of relief when you thankfully made another safe landing.

"Alright, she's waiting," Din said, referring to his lady friend that you were painfully jealous of.

"Maybe the baby and I should just stay here, you know how Tatooine is." You said, looking into the Mandalorian's expressionless visor.

You didn't know if your heart could handle being around Mando and the mystery woman.

"Nothing will happen if I'm with you two." He replied lowly, motioning with his arm for you to follow.

You unwilling trailed behind the man, the small green child clung to your hip. The rear door of the ship opened with a great hiss, a pool of hot golden light following in its wake. The Child gurgled and shielded its large dark eyes with a small three-fingered hand, taken aback by the sudden rush of sunlight.

"I thought that hunk of junk looked familiar," A raspy female voice greeted, her body merely a black silhouette against the scorching desert suns.

"Hello, Peli." The Mandalorian replied.

Mando may have appeared stoic to most, but you'd been around him enough to been to notice the slight queues in his voice. When he found something funny, there was a certain waver to his gravelly tone, and it was present in this moment.

When your eyes finally adjusted to the light you were met with the sight of a short woman who was more hair than height. She had a head of wild, curly hair and was clad in a tattered jumpsuit. She wasn't at all what you were expecting, but the mischievous glint in her eyes was strangely comforting. You felt as if she were an old friend to you.

"Did you finally get hitched, Mando?" She asked, looking you up and down as if she were examining your worth.

Your face grew hotter than what it already was in the blistering Tatooine heat as the man beside you cleared his throat.

Suddenly, you felt uncomfortable in your tattered, olive-colored overalls. You sure didn't look like a worthy bride.

"She is the Child's caretaker." He answered, his gaze still locked on Peli.

Your chest panged at his words and you held onto the Child tighter, tucking his small green head beneath your chin.

"Well, that's your loss. She's one fine specimen." The woman with the unruly hair replied as she flashed you a lopsided grin.

"May I see him?" She beamed at the baby clutched in your arms and the blush that was rapidly spreading across your face went unnoticed to her.

You looked down at the Child and watched as he gazed at Peli with admiration, the two had seemingly met before.

"Of course," You hummed, descending the ramp so you could safely hand the Child over.

You watched as she hummed and fawned over the baby while you felt the Mandalorian's unnerving presence looming over your shoulder. His broad shadow that was cast across the dusty ground showed his arms folded over his armored chest.

"We stopped by hoping you could provide us some information-"

"You never just want to come to visit me, there always has to be something in it for you." Peli huffed.

You quietly analyzed the relationship between the two. Lucky for you they weren't old flames, but they were close with one another. Why didn't Mando and you joke like this? How much longer were you going to have to sit next to him in the co-pilot's seat in deafening silence? You decided that if you got a moment alone with Peli, you'd ask how the two of them got so close. Maybe she'd be able to help you.

"What do you know about Mos Pelgo?" The bounty hunter asked, earning a puzzled expression from the older woman.

"Destroyed in battle." She bluntly replied, bouncing the baby up and down in her arms.

"No, that's not right." The Mandalorian mumbled.

"Koresh said Mos Pelgo, right?" He turned toward you for support.

"If I recall correctly, yes." You said, now equally puzzled.

Now you worried that your run-in with the gangster Gor Koresh had been for nothing. What if the three of you almost died all for a dead end?

"R5," Peli called, summoning forth a rusted red and white droid.

"Pull up a map of Tatooine for me, will you?"

The droid hummed and whirred as it went to work at an achingly slow pace.

"Can you go any faster you useless pile of bolts?" She groaned.

Before the four of you appeared a flickering hologram of a map of Tatooine.

"Now, can you find me Mos Pelgo?"

The droid let out another series of beeps before getting to work again, slightly faster this time.

"I don't see it." Mando frustrated announced as you stared at the blank spot on the map.

"Mos Pelgo was turned to dust, I'm not sure if you'll find what you're looking for there," Peli explained before looking skeptically towards you and the Mandalorian.

"We still have to try." You said, looking down at the baby in Peli's arms.

"For him."

"What sort of trouble are you two looking for anyway?"

"A source told me I could find another Mandalorian there. Hopefully, they can lead me to others like the Child."

"And by a source he means gangster." You said under your breath, earning a hearty chuckle from the mechanic.

"At least he has someone with at least a lick of sense around now. I don't know what he thinks he's doing running and being in cahoots with gangsters. He has a responsibility now!" She waved the baby around in Mando's line of sight.

You smiled to yourself, happy to finally have some recognition for all the help you gave to The Mandalorian. If it weren't for you he probably wouldn't be able to keep his head on his shoulders.

"I have a land speeder you two can borrow, but if anything happens to it this time I swear, Mando I will have your-"

"I will bring it back in one piece." The man silenced, already walking towards the speeder.

You looked at the lone bike with dismay. It was going to be awkward to have to share one, especially for that long of a trip.

"I hate to ask for too much, Peli, but do you happen to have a second speeder?" You shyly requested with your hands clasped together in front of you.

"Nope, not since Mando here wrecked the last one."

"You should be fine, I don't think he bites unless you tick him off." She teased with a wink.

You let out and nervous laugh and took hold of the Child as she handed him over to you. You tenderly put him into his pouch before tying it to the back of the speeder.

The Mandalorian had already boarded the bike and started the engine, it purred and sputtered like a sickly loth cat. Despite the worrying amount of noise the speeder made, you sat down on the back end of the vehicle, making sure to keep your distance from the bounty hunter in front of you.

"You're going to want to get closer than that, sweetheart. Don't need anyone flying off now do we?" Peli joked.

You hesitantly inched forward, wrapping your arms around Mando's waist for extra support. His beskar armor was cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the desert suns that had been beating down on you.

"Are you alright?" He asked, peering over his shoulder at you.

You nodded and forced a smile in reply. When the Mandalorian finally looked away, you caught a glimpse of Peli's smug expression.

"If you two make it back by dinner, we're having bantha!" She shouted over the deafening hum of the speeder.

Your stomach was too knotted to even think of eating.

It was a long and uncomfortable ride to Mos Pelgo. Though you and the Mandalorian weren't having the greatest time, the Child seemed thrilled. He grinned into the wind as his long green ears fluttered behind him. At least someone was content.

While the child babbled beside you, you spent the trip hoping Mos Pelgo had what you were looking for. You wanted a win for Mando, he'd been trying so hard to find anyone who could help get the Child home, but he was only coming up with loose ends.

"Do you see that?" You shouted, pointing off into the distance at an outline of a town.

Din applied a heavier push to the gas pedal and sent you flying straight for the small village of Mos Pelgo. When he finally got closer he slowed down, noticing that the loud rumble of the engine was attracting unwanted attention. Every resident of the town was stood outside their small hut glaring and covered in soot and ash. That sight was enough to tell you that Mos Pelgo was a mining colony, but what would a Mandalorian want with a mining colony?

"Stop here," You instructed, tapping Din's shoulder as you neared an abandoned-looking cantina.

The speeder came to a steady halt and Din cut the engine, engulfing the three of you in silence.

"I guess this is a good place to start?" You shrugged as you slipped off the seat and dusted the sand off the front of your overalls.

"We'll find out." The Mandalorian said, a hint of doubt in his steely voice.

You retrieved the Child from the speeder and wore the sack he was stored in across your front. He babbled nonsense at you and then proceeded to point at his mouth, letting you know he was hungry.

"We'll see if they have anything for you here, okay?" You cooed, scratching the baby's wrinkled head.

The Mandalorian led the way into the cantina, up three creaking wooden steps, and through a set of swinging doors that hadn't had their hinges oiled in far too long. The interior of the bar looked just as dead as the rest of Mos Pelgo. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust and sand and the furniture was tattered and worn. Not to mention that the floorboards moaned beneath you as if they would give out at any moment.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" You called out, keeping close to Mando.

A door in one of the far back and dark corners of the bar swung open and a large and burly creature sauntered out.

"Can I help you, folks?" He asked as he saddled up behind the bar.

"We have a few questions for you actually, but first, do you have any bone broth for the little one?" You questioned, giving the man a hopeful smile.

"I do, now what questions do you have for me?"

You looked to the Mandalorian while the bartender prepared the broth for the baby, causing the armored man to clear his throat.

"Do you know of any Mandalorians who live here? Anyone who looks like me?"

The man eyed Din as he slid you the broth for the Child. Both you and your partner held your breath and hoped for an even slightly helpful answer.

"You must be thinking of the Marshal." The bartender replied as you shifted through your sack looking for credits.

"You've got a little mouth to feed, it's on the house." He added with a dismissing wave of his hand.

Before you could thank him for his kindness, Din shot another question.

"Your marshal wears Mandalorian armor?"

You resisted the urge to smack Din on the arm. He never slowed down to just be thankful, he never really thought. This is normally where trouble began.

The creaking cantina doors that you had entered through earlier groaned open once again as a great beam of sunlight filled the room and illuminated the dust that floated through the hot, thick air.

"Well speak of the devil," The barman spoke before raising his hand to give a blunt salute.

You and Din both pivoted around to face the man who had sauntered into the bar, clad head to toe in battered Mandalorian armor. He sat down in a wooden chair, back slouched and knees spread like he owned the place. He radiated the energy of someone important and for a moment you thought that maybe the ghost town of Mos Pelgo wasn't a dead end after all. That was until the Marshal did something shocking. You watched out of the corner of your eye as Din's hand settled upon the blaster holstered to his thigh, but you used your free hand to push it away.

The Marshal had removed his helmet and it was sat on the table, tinted visor glinting in the sunlight.

"Take it off," The bounty hunter said bluntly, still grasping his weapon even after you attempted to push him away.

"Or I will."

With your eyes wide as saucers, you quickly sat the Child down out of harm's way and stood yourself between the two men. You wouldn't let Din be this reckless and kill off your only lead. The two of you had been searching far and wide for another Mandalorian for far too long. Yes, this man wasn't exactly a Mandalorian, but for now, he was all you had.

"Mando, don't." You ordered, looking into the darkness of his helmet and estimating where his eyes might lay.

You hated having to do this, to restrain him from protecting his culture. It was unfair that this Marshal could walk around as he did without facing the persecution Din faced and without devoting his life to Mandalorian culture.

As you stood between the two men who now had their weapons drawn you thought of all the things you'd seen the bounty hunter go through, all because of his faith. The endless names and taunting, the rowdy bar fights that ended in dented beskar and bloodied knuckles. You wanted him to be able to let it all out, but you couldn't sacrifice this.

"Please don't fight." You said shakily, looking to your left at the Marshal.

The man's eyes were narrowed and strands of silver hair hung over his forehead. He was brazen and handsome as he awaited the Mandalorian's next move. The Marshal bit his cheek and followed your orders, lowering his blaster to his side.

"Drop it," You said, pointing your eyes down to the dirty floor below you.

"Please."

The Marshal raised his hands in defeat as he crouched down to the ground and carefully sat down his weapon. You kept your eyes locked on him as he rose back up with a cocky, lopsided grin.

"You aren't excluded from this, Mando." You huffed, not even having to look over your shoulder to know that Din still had his weapon raised.

Even through his modulator, you heard his quiet grunt of annoyance as he discarded his blaster.

"We don't want any trouble, sir-" You began before the Marshal outstretched his hand to you.

"It's no problem at all, young lady." He said before taking your hand into a firm grip.

You meekly shook back and blushed furiously when he lifted your hand to his mouth and planted a kiss. Before you could get too stuck on wondering where the hell you were, the Marshal provided a formal introduction.

"I'm Cobb Vanth, the Marshal of this little town you've found yourselves at."

You gave him a nervous smile and gestured towards yourself.

"I'm Y/N and that's Mando." You said, remembering not giving away the bounty hunter's real name.

"And who's that little fella?" Vanth questioned, pointing towards the Child who was peering at him from his carrier.

"He doesn't have a name," Din answered, moving forward to stand beside you like an overprotective shadow.

"He's actually why we're here." You added before giving a kind wave to the baby to let him know you hadn't forgotten about him. He was getting to the age where he required lots of attention and would get quite fussy if you didn't play with him or hold him often.

"Well, I hate to interrupt you darlin', but I have to ask your friend here what all the fuss is with my armor?" The Marshal asked, his arms now inquisitively folded across his chest.

"The armor your wearing is Mandalorian. You're not supposed to wear it if you're not part of the creed." Mando explained.

You could tell he was trying his best to remain calm.

"How do you know I'm not part of the creed?" Vanth prodded, quirking a dark brow.

"Mandalorians never remove their helmets in front of anyone."

The cantina was covered in the blanket of a heavy and uncomfortable hush. You could tell that beneath the Marshal's tough exterior, he truly did feel guilty.

Before he could reply to Din, a faint rumble sounded off in the distance. You and the Mandalorian exchanged puzzled glances before the entire room began to shake. Bottles behind the bar began to fall off the shelf and shatter as you ran to fetch the Child who was cowering in the corner.

"What the hell is that?" You shouted, looking to the Marshal for an answer.

He motioned for you and Din to follow him outside and wearily you did so. The residents of Mos Pelgo were rushing to get inside and salvage whatever they could as a massive lump beneath the sand came rushing toward the village. You held the baby closer to your chest as the mass beneath the ground burst out and reared it's scaly head before it swallowed an unsuspecting bantha whole.

All fell quiet once the creature burrowed deeper into the ground and sped away, leaving destruction in its wake.

"Care to tell us what that was?" Mando said, not a hint of fear in his voice.

"Krayt dragon," Vanth replied nonchalantly, obviously this wasn't a once in a lifetime occurrence.

"And I tell you what, Mando; if you can help me get rid of that damn thing, I'll give you my armor."

The Marshal stood with one hand on his hip and the other outstretched, waiting for the Mandalorian's grasp.

"Do we have a deal?"

"Deal," Din said, firmly shaking the other man's hand.

It seemed now that asking Vanth about the Child had become an afterthought and you did not agree to fight a massive monster who could swallow farm animals whole.

The Marshal offered you and the Mandalorian a place to stay for the night, but first, the three of you would devise a plan on how to deal with the dragon.

You were back in the Cantina which now brimmed with customers. Though you were squared away in a booth in the back corner, you could still feel the wary stares of the locals burning into the nape of your neck. You just kept feeding the baby and minding your own business, hoping they'd all just leave you alone.

"Are you alright?" Din asked, noticing your anxious demeanor.

"I'm fine. I can just tell not everyone is as welcoming as the Marshal." You replied as you spooned more broth into the Child's mouth.

"I'm sure a few stories of how you pulled a blaster on their leader have already gotten around."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking." He apologized, quietly watching you care for the baby.

"You rarely ever do." You teased, nudging his leg beneath the table.

"Sorry you two, duty called." Vanth huffed as he settled into the booth beside you.

You tensed up as your bare shoulder brushed against his own and his knee pushed into your thigh.

"Are we ready to talk business, or are we thinking drinks first? I could really use something to take the edge off."

"We don't really do that sort of thing." You explained, trying your best to kindly decline.

"I have a backroom Mando can use," The Marshal continued to offer.

Din declined and the Marshal knew better than to push him any further. Now you were the only one left to persuade.

"Come on, live a little Miss Y/N!"

You looked to Din for reassurance to which he outstretched his arms to take the baby.

"Alright, I guess," You said before following an enthusiastic Vanth over to the bar.

The Marshal signaled to the bartender for two drinks as the two of you saddled up onto your stools. You looked nervously down at the tabled below you, counting every scratch in the wood.

"I hate to pry, but what exactly is the relationship between you and the Mandalorian?" Vanth asked.

"I help take care of the Child and in return, he gives me a place to stay. He got me out of a pretty nasty situation." You said in reply, choosing to keep some parts of your story a secret.

"I guess you could say he saved me, but it's nothing more than a business relationship if that's what you're asking."

The Marshal chuckled at your answer as he slid you your drink.

"It sounds like you're quite fond of him if you ask me." He teased, a handsome smile plastered on his bearded face.

"No, it's not like that."

Instead of you sounding carefree, your voice was solemn and soft. It was a weak try at trying to convince the Marshal that you weren't in love with your partner, but it would have to do.

You sheepishly looked down at the short glass of electric blue liquid before you and hoped it wouldn't hit you like a sack of bricks.

"On the count of three-" He began before you stopped him.

"Wait!" You laughed, a nervous blush spreading across your face.

"We don't have all night, darlin'." Vanth hummed, grinning when you finally got past your nerves and picked up your glass.

On three you tipped back your head and swallowed the bitter liquid. You held back a gag and wrinkled your nose as Vanth stared back at you unfazed.

"Good girl," He praised, giving an unexpected but not unwanted squeeze to your thigh.

Everyone was really staring at you now. You weren't just a stranger who wandered into town anymore, you were the girl on the Marshal's hip.

One shot soon turned into one too many and Vanth brought you back to the booth with you clinging onto his arm like a giggly mess.

"Alright, let's get to work, shall we?" Vanth said once he got you settled into the booth.

"Hi, Din." You giggled, smiling at him while the Marshal spread his plan across the table.

"How much did you drink, Y/N?" The bounty hunter asked, his voice oozing a disapproving tone.

"I have no idea," You slurred, jerking your head in the direction of the silver-haired man beside you.

"However much he gave me."

The heavily armored man let out a sigh, but the baby in his arms had the entire opposite reaction to your state. The Child found how drunk you were to be amusing.

"Sorry, I didn't expect her to react like this." Vanth sincerely replied as he fixed your disheveled hair.

"Are you gonna be okay, sweetheart?" He asked, brushing your disheveled hair away from your face.

You simply nodded in reply, not a care in the world. You hadn't felt this stress-free in a while and you were going to enjoy it while it lasted.

The crowd inside the cantina began to dwindle as it grew later in the night. The clientele within it would have to wake up with the sun, so staying out all night was not something the people of Mos Pelgo did often.

The Child had begun to drift off in your arms as you looked down at him contently despite your drunken stupor. Your blurred vision made him look more like a painting on a canvas rather than a real-life child.

"Well, I think we're about done here." Vanth said, looking down at the scroll of paper on the table with an expression of satisfaction.

"I should get these two to bed. We'll meet back up tomorrow." Din replied before inching his way out of the booth.

"Come on, Y/N."

The Marshal assisted you out of the booth in his usual gentlemanly manner.

"Thank you for the drinks," You slurred, pouting as the Mandalorian removed the baby from your grasp.

"I-I'll see you tomorrow?"

Din now had a firm but gentle grasp on your wrist as he tugged you towards the exit.

"Yes ma'am, I'll have a hangover cure waiting," Cobb replied with a lopsided grin.

"Hangover?" You worriedly muttered as the Mandalorian tugged you out the swinging cantina doors.

You followed an arm's length behind Din as he led you back to your shelter for the night. If you were sober you would have easily kept up, but it felt as if you had weights strapped to your boots and the sands of Tatooine weren't aiding you in any way.

"Keep up, it's dark out. I don't want to be out here if that dragon comes back." The Mandalorian muttered, his voice a humming metallic whir in the quiet desert air.

When you finally made it to the small hut, you staggered through the door and fell heavily down onto your cot. You laid in the dark and stared up at the ceiling as Din put the Child to bed and lit a few candles to light up the darkness of the room.

"You weren't like yourself tonight." He said quietly, his broad back turned to you as he fussed with lighting another candle.

"What?" You grunted, holding yourself upright in bed by your elbows.

"The way you acted today was unlike you. Honestly, it was irresponsible."

The gears in your brain turned as you strung together every word of his sentence into something coherent to your drunken mind.

"What do you mean unlike me?" You scoffed, now sitting upright with your legs folded beneath you.

"You're acting like you know me."

"Of course I know you, Y/N. I've been carting you across the galaxy for months now." The Mandalorian replied, turning to face you now that he had finished his battle with the lamp.

"Exactly! We've been stuck in your hunk of junk traveling through space for so long and you haven't even tried to get to know me." You shot back, your voice raising itself an octave.

The combination of the alcohol and your now unbottled emotions made you feel hot and sickly. It was the kind of discomfort where out of the blue your clothes felt like they were going to swallow you whole or your boots felt like they were laced too tight. You were a ticking time bomb and everything was bound to set you off.

"So what? You think the Marshal knows you better?"

"That's what this is about? You're jealous?" You snapped, your jaw practically hanging to the floor out of shock.

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife as the bounty hunter hovered above your cot. You could feel his glare, even if it was obscured by his helmet. The liquid courage that was coursing through you urged you to challenge him further, but deep down you knew that you might as well be playing with fire.

"Go to bed. It's late and I don't want you waking the Child." He said flatly before extinguishing the lamps he had put on just minutes earlier.

You dramatically fell back onto the bed, the force of your body causing the springs in the mattress to creak beneath you. Scowling up at the ceiling, you counted the wood panels above your head and listened to the quiet thud of the Mandalorian stripping off his boots before crawling into bed.

If there hadn't already been a rift between you two before, there was now.

You awoke to bright sunlight leaking in through the narrow windows of the hut. In the pool of honeyed sunlight, the Child babbled from within his cradle. To your left, Mando laid in bed, the slow rise and fall of his chest suggesting that he was still asleep. You pondered over how he managed to sleep with all his armor on before remembering the argument the two of you had gotten into the night before. The events leading up to it were foggy, but sadly that had managed to stick with you. This is why you never drank, you weren't fond of having to piece your life back together the next morning. You forced yourself out of bed, trying to ignore the pounding in your head, and walked over to where the baby was.

"Good morning, little one." You hummed.

The Child beamed back up at you with wide, dark eyes and your heart fluttered at his admiring gaze. He was only a baby of course, but his kindness was enough to mend your wounds from the night before.

Behind you, the Mandalorian stirred in his bed.

"Hello," You heard him mutter sleepily.

"Did the Child wake you?"

"No, it was that damn sun." You replied, squinting into the light.

You were much more used to the darkness of your quarters in the Razorcrest. Some curtains in the hut would've been favorable. It probably would've made the space a little more welcoming too. You hadn't noticed it in the pitch dark of the night before, but the room itself was quite sad. You were stood upon dirt floors and surrounded by blank, beige walls.

"Listen, I'm sorry about-"

You didn't know if now was the right time to apologize, but maybe there would never be a 'right time'.

"Don't apologize. I shouldn't have acted the way I did. You were drunk and all I did was provoke you. I should be the sorry one." Mando cut you off, now stood behind you with a gloved hand awkwardly placed on your shoulder as the two of you hovered over the Child.

"I guess we should go find the Marshal. He's probably waiting for us." You said, looking over your shoulder at the masked man behind you.

You had placed a band-aid on the situation, now it was time to carry on. More important things hung in the balance than you having butterflies for the faceless bounty hunter you shadowed behind.

You had a dragon to kill.

let me know what you think of this first part! also let me know if you would like to be tagged in the second part so you are alerted when it comes out. thank you so much for reading! <3

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #star wars

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