#i’m looking at you mandalorian season three | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dumbbitchenergy17 · 2 months ago

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Reunion Interview

Plot: A reunion of our two favorite actors following their crazy lives after the ending of the fan-favorite show: The Mandalorian

Word Count: 4.7K

Pairing: Platonic!Pedro Pascal x Platonic!Reader, Paul Mescal x Reader

Warnings: sweet "father-daughter" moments, laughter giggles, just general fluff

A/N: This is something that's been on my mind for a while and with Gladiator 2 this only fueled it. CONTAINS CLAN OF THREE SPOILERS+WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE. Read all of the Clan of Three Series here and also read Where the Wild Things Are here

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“Alright, we are all ready?” The interviewer asks and the cameramen and sound people each give their sounds of agreement and then turn to give the go-ahead to start, “Hello guys it’s a pleasure meeting you two. It must be good to reunite once again. Let’s get a little introduction then go crazy.” He greets the two actors sitting next to each other.

“Hello world I’m Pedro Pascal.” “And I’m Y/n L/n and we’re here with Variety Magazine.” The two of you greet the camera before looking at one another. Pedro gives a fake serious look and you roll your eyes at his antics and he burst into laughter.

“This is what I dealt with for five years oh god how did I do it.” You pinch the bridge of your nose while the older man dies down his chuckles.

“Don’t act all innocent you were in just as much mischief as I was.” Pedro points at you, “I was barely an adult on set you’re supposed to be the responsible one.” It seemed like years had flown by. This TV show was your breakthrough role and allowed your career to skyrocket and it was all thanks to meeting this man.

“Plenty of fun stories from set between the cast and crew.” The interviewer asks you both and Pedro nods enthusiastically.

“The first two seasons this one was attached to my hip. I couldn’t even go for a nap without her waiting outside of my trailer.” He says with a chuckle and you cross your arms.

“You were the only person on set who was childish enough to want to hang out with a high schooler.” You reply sassily and the interviewer has to cover his mouth to hide his laughter while Pedro gasps dramatically while holding his chest. “How dare you call me childish.”

“So Y/n being the youngest person of the cast and growing up on the show how did it affect your character?” You smile smoothing out the wrinkle in your pants.

“Well, I was cast in 2018 a couple of months after Pedro was already cast. It’s funny cause Dave and Jon actually when creating this show my character was never meant to be in this show just an idea thrown around.” You explain, “But they decided why not add another bounty for Mando to take care of, but through the show, they both learn to take care of each other and he becomes a father figure to her.”

“And Pedro how was that playing a role of becoming a father figure and being there in her life?” He asks and Pedro scratches his beard.

“I mean at first not gonna lie I was very nervous. I have worked with younger actors before but this was something different. It wasn’t a child actor that played my son or daughter, or someone who was an adult it was a teenager that I would be working with quite closely. I mean we met for our first table read and you were just this shy girl who was meant to be this sassy badass character. But you blew me and the crew away when we started working together,” Pedro says glancing over at you with a nostalgic look in his eyes, “Both the relationship of our characters had this whole evolution from being adversaries and not even friendly with one another to a bond that ran deeper than blood. I watched her grow up with every episode and season from that timid little girl to this strong intelligent woman before me.” You give a pouting smile before putting your face in your hands.

“I hate you. You’re gonna make me cry.” You sigh making the interviewer and Pedro laugh and wraps his arms around your hunched-over body rocking you side to side. “You’re not the only one teary-eyed,” The interviewer says fanning his eyes and you smile at his attempt to not single you out.

“It’s all good I’m professional.” You steel your face wiping away any trace of sadness from his touching speech. “Yeah, Pedro is an alright guy I guess.” You shrug and Pedro bursts into laughter throwing his head back

“Okay getting back on track. You’ve both been very busy this past year. Season 3 of The Mandalorian has been out and fans are both crying over how good this show is and how you tore us all apart with the ending.” He says and Pedro fake cries remembering the ending.

“Hey, I didn’t want her to leave me. She went to go find herself.” He points his thumb at me and you slap it away, “I didn’t have a decision in it as well. You should have seen him on my final day of filming, so as you know this man over here was gone pretty much all of season three cause he was filming his show with his other kids.” Referencing Bella Ramsey and Nico Parker his two other ‘children’ in The Last Of Us.

“Pedro is just our favorite father figure.” The interviewer says and you nod in agreement. “You have too many children to keep count of.” You say and Pedro gives a sheepish grin.

“I’m just good with kids.” He shrugs.

“But anyways so since he was busy filming for that show we were able to have his amazing stunt doubles, I love you Brendan and Lateef become him. So comes my final scene where I leave and Din is left all sad with Grogu. I think he’s in Canada filming and we block out the scene Dave and Jon tell us we’re all set. That scene feels very close to me 'cause it feels like my goodbye to both the character and to the crew who’s been there since I was eighteen.” You remember the sadness that day on set knowing that this was your final hours with this group.

“So we start rolling and I go through my whole monologue,”

“Which was amazing by the way.” The interviewer butts in and you smile,

“Oh thank you. So I do my thing and who I think is Brendan just breaks down crying before he can say his line I panic and try to improvise to get him back on track but when Dave calls cut I expect it to be Brendan to take off the helmet and apologize but turns out it was this crybaby.” You point your thumb to an embarrassed Pedro.

“Did you expect no waterworks when you were leaving me?” He defends himself, “I didn’t expect you there in the first place! But it was sweet and after many takes because he couldn’t get through his lines without crying we finished my last scenes.”

“I have seen that video from Dave Filoni of the behind-the-scenes of your final day on set.” On the TV beside the interviewer plays a video that shows the set and crew and there are the two of you going through the scene before Jon calls cut.

You remember that take vividly it ended up being the one used for the final cut, the second ‘Cut!’ was shouted the crew broke into cheers. You immediately crouch and break into tears and Pedro removes his helmet pulling you into a bearhug crying into your shoulder you both cry out your characters and each other's final goodbyes on set.

“Give it up to Y/n for her final scene! That’s a wrap for her.” Dave says behind the camera as it moves closer to you and Pedro. Both of you were teary-eyed, Pedro looking like a wreck as you give a cheesy grin through tears and Pedro presses a kiss to your temple before pulling you into another tight hug and that’s when the video ends.

“A very heartfelt video that shows the bond you two have working together over five years.” He says and the two of you smile. Just being a part of the Star Wars franchise had been a dream, growing up watching the original and the prequels as a child and now being involved in this story was game-changing. “Outside of Star Wars, you’ve both been very busy Pedro with Wonder Woman, The Unbearable Weight, hosting SNL, and one of the most popular shows of this year The Last of Us.”

“Stop it you’re making me blush.” Pedro waves his hand acting bashfully, “Don’t forget the three Emmy nominations.” You pipe in and Pedro covers his face at all the compliments headed his way. This man was way too humble.

“You’re not off the hook either you’ve been very busy yourself, you got your nomination for an Emmy for ‘The Mandalorian’, you’ve been in Bullet Train, Across the Spider-Verse, In the Heights, the latest Indiana Jones, and you just wrapped up A Quiet Place: Day One, all while going to school and getting your college degree now finally enjoying adulthood, how is that like.” The interviewer reminds you of the work you’ve done in the past five years.

You laugh twisting the rings that adore your fingers, “I mean high school was easier as I had an on-set teacher and graduated right around in the middle of filming In the Heights. Then for college right as the pandemic hit we all were on lockdown I continued with online courses and once it lifted it was working a schedule of classes and work but all the films I’ve been on have been so accommodating. With the program I took I graduated right after we wrapped Season 3 and before the Press Tour,” Pedro makes a cheering noise as the interviewer laughs.

“I’m assuming you were in attendance for that Pedro?” He questions and Pedro nods enthusiastically, “Of course, I was there for both high school and college! I made a sign and everything.” He and the interviewer laugh as you shake your head.

“Did he?!”

“It was the same big sign with a bunch of horrible pictures of me I think it said, ‘Y/n L/n my unofficial daughter’ with like a bunch of hearts.” You can picture the sign clearly remembering both high school and college walking across the stage to receive your diploma and hearing your friends and family cheer Pedro being one of the loudest.

“Since graduating and now fully dedicating yourself to film how has it been?” The interviewer questions and you give a wide smile.

“I love it so much, while it was stressful balancing work and classes being done is so rewarding. I’ve been able to accept so many new projects and attend so many events I couldn’t before due to classes.” In college, you and your manager had discussed your schedule working around sets while focusing on your education. You decided to strictly do online courses just to make things easier if you do need to travel for work but you’ve been to school events and made friends in college despite your virtual learning.

“Is this the first time you are meeting back up in person since the premiere of Season Three?” He asks and it makes sense with your guys’ busy schedules.

“No surprisingly since we wrapped Season Three there was a time when we didn’t see each other, with Pedro busy with Strange Way of Life, and I had just ended college. Plus I just moved to New York and then got involved with A Quiet Place we didn’t see each other in person until I think it was when you hosted SNL..?” You explain and Pedro perks up.

“Nooo you were there for the premiere of The Last of Us.” He calls you out and your jaw drops you completely forget how busy and how many premieres it all blends. “I would say you kinda stole the show when you appeared on the carpet, none of us were expecting you to be there.” The interviewer says with a laugh.

“That would be an understatement. So it’s the night before the premiere I’m in LA and I think she’s still in New York I remember I called you cause I felt like I was going to die,” Pedro retells and you laugh remembering picking up the phone to see a very nervous Pedro who was pacing in a panic about the premiere for the show.

“You were fine just being a big baby as usual you did the same thing during season one.” He shushes you trying to cover your mouth with his hand but you dodge from it.

“ANYWAYS,” He raises his voice, “Night of the premiere and I feel like I’m going to puke and crap myself all at the same time. But I get there everything is alright I see the rest of the cast happy to see Bellie again all those good things. I’m doing an interview and I think Bella was still on the carpet taking some photos when this roar of cheers came from the beginning. I’m thinking it’s Ashley Johnson or Troy Baker the original Joel and Ellie but I can’t see from down there. So they want me to get some photos with Bella and how I couldn’t tell they were planning something is beyond me.” You and the interviewer start giggling and you see queued up is a video from that night.

“Oh god, you have a video!” Pedro groans covering his face and you nudge him forcing him to watch.

The shouts of fans and photographers as Pedro poses for photos and you can see Bella go over and pull him over as the pair take photos together. Pedro places his hand on his stomach a technique he has used for years to quell his anxiety. The flashing lights and screams of fans only grow louder for a second and he just laughs confused at them. Bella squeezes his arm from his right side and he can sense a presence on his left side and he assumes it’s another cast member.

“Hey P…” A voice whispers in his ear and his eyes widen comically and he whips to turn to face you who has a cheesy smile on your face.

“What the fuck!”

The cameras show Pedro quickly wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you in the air and you laugh loudly before he puts you down and immediately talks rapidly questioning how you are here, how this happened, when you planned this, he had just called you a few hours before. The cameras start yelling at you two to pose and the pair of you pose a big grin spread across Pedro’s face. The video ends as he pulls Bella and Nico making it a group photo of all his on-screen daughters.

You laugh as it freezes at the photo of all of you smiling and laughing.

“I’m still in shock you managed to pull a fast one on me but that truly made my night,” Pedro says.

“It was all Bella and Nico’s planning I didn’t even know how they even managed to keep it from you during all those press tours. I was fully there like four days before the premiere,” You say, and on the screen are photos you had posted following the surprise of you hanging with Bella and Nico, and the rest of the last of us crew. One photo that makes you giggle is you standing before a snoring Pedro on a couch in a green room that you had Bella take for you when you snuck to watch their interviews.

“Speaking of Bella and Nico. I would say you including Sophie Thatcher blew up the internet in the ‘Children of Pedro’ interview,” The interviewer mentions and you smile and a thumbnail of the interview with you and these amazing actors and actresses.

“Oh, that interview was so much fun. It was the first time I met Bella and Nico as I worked alongside Sophie during Boba Fett and we all had this instant chemistry. Following that we all became good friends and we try to hang out when any of us are in town or plan stuff.” You explain and you see Pedro has a warm smile happy to see all the people he cares deeply for are friends, “Pedro’s glad all his children aren’t fighting.” You smirk and both the interviewer and Pedro laugh at your comment.

“I’m glad my home has some form of order,” Pedro bounces off your quip and the interviewer looks over some of his notes.

“Alright, I have some fan questions sent in for the both of you to answer if that’s alright.” He asks as both you and Pedro take sips from your drinks.

“Sounds great!” “Hit me with them.”

The interviewer nods excitedly looking over at you, “Alright Y/n we’ll start with you. This is a question from @pedroswife1975 ‘I was just as gagged at Pedro’s SNL performance I wanted to know if you had any clue of Pedro’s plans or did you go in just as blind as everyone else.’.” The screen shows a college work on Pedro’s SNL night.

“Oh, that was a crazy night, I was so excited to hear he was hosting SNL cause I was used to this guy’s craziness,” You say pointing a thumb at the older man, “I didn’t realize he was dropping hints or asking for my opinion like the fan cam skit he asked me about how I felt about like fan edits. To those watching I love them so much and genuinely lay in bed kicking my legs seeing the crazy shit yall make of me or people I know. Also, that fucking voice in the memory lost one.” Pedro bursts into laughter.

“What voice? This is my normal talking voice.” He flawlessly does the valley girl's voice that makes you speak through giggles.

“I think it was when he was in New York to rehearse for SNL and we’ve been meeting up and hanging out and we were at this cafe and he slips into this voice and I literally couldn’t help giggling,” You say, “So when I go to the taping I had to cover my mouth to stop from giggling everyone second.”

“It’s an amazing voice though.” The interviewer says in the valley girl accent, “Oh totally it’s completely amazingggg.” You respond by going heavy on the vocal fry unable to burst into a fit of giggles alongside Pedro.

“Okay, next question for Pedro. This is from @y/nssoulmate ‘I’m dying to know cause those Instagram photos were insane, but how crazy was Y/n’s 21st birthday?! Please I’m dying to know I’ll give my first child to know!!’.” You immediately groan covering your face and the pair laugh. On the screen appears a photo of your twenty-first birthday it’s partially blurry but it’s of you looking plastered. A ‘21’ crown halfway on your frizzy hair from the humidity of Pedro’s apartment that he transformed into a club vibe, a drunk grin on your face with an arm around Pedro’s shoulder the other holding a martini. Pedro is practically holding you up looking drunk as well as a beer in his free hand.

Pedro chuckles rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m going to be so honest I don’t remember much of that night. Someone thought it was a good idea to try and outdrink each other.”

“Hey! I was given full rein since it was my birthday. You were meant to be the responsible adult. Luckily Sarah Paulson and Oscar Issac were the actual adults that night,” You defend yourself. Truly that night was a blur but it was such a fun night. Your friends had taken you out for breakfast and a full day of celebration before you received a text from Pedro to go to his apartment to get his gift that he accidentally shipped to his place. Turns out it was a surprise and he was able to come back from shooting for The Last of Us and bring along your close friends and family.

“For my soulmate unfortunately neither Pedro nor I remember that night but trust from what those there that night it was the best birthday someone could through for me. Though I did avoid alcohol for like a month.” You say and Pedro groans remembering the hangout you both suffered the following day.

“Okay question for you Ms. Partyer. @imstillsadfromkazsdeath,” You laugh at hearing from the person’s social handle, “Their question is with news of both Wicked which you worked alongside Director John Chu during In the Heights, and Gladiator 2 has your co-star, Joseph Quinn, your father-figure Pedro, and your friend Paul Mescal coming out at the same time. Which are you seeing first Wicked or Gladiator 2?” On the screen, it shows a college of you with each respective person mentioned. A photo of you nineteen on set in New York City with John Chu and Lin Manuel Miranda, a picture of you and Pedro during premiere of season 3 of Mandalorian, a picture of you and Joseph Quinn on the set of A Quiet Place both dusty and covered in fake blood, and finally a picture of you and Paul Mescal at the this recent Met Gala a candid photo of inside the event talking during dinner.

“One more of a sidebar, I’m still sad about Kaz’s death if I could’ve changed it I would’ve both Freddy and I were so bummed filming those scenes. But for your question fuck you.” You answer so seriously that both Pedro and the interviewer burst into laughter.

“Seriously fuck you for making me choose. One I love John Chu and I am so excited to see Wicked I’ve been obsessed with it since a kid and I saw Idina and Kristin on Broadway so I need to see what Cynthia and Ariana do with this. But I also love all three guys and want to support them too 'cause I also love Gladiator and I know my father would be super betrayed since it’s our go-to movie to watch.” You were in such a rough spot.

“Can I clone myself?” You ask and both Pedro and the interviewer shake their head which makes you let out a frustrated groan, “You know what? I’ll see whatever movie I get invited to first. This leaves me not to choose it’s in the hands of John and the boys so they need to battle it out.”

“Wow, seriously such a cop-out,” Pedro whines and you shrug, “You can’t force me to decide if I don’t have the choice.”

“Very well played. Alright, our final question for Pedro from @pedroiszaddyfr they ask ‘Hey Pedro if I get chosen I’m absolutely in love with you and just want you to know that.”

“Aw, I love you too,” Pedro replies and the interviewer continues.

“So my question is in The Last of Us after season 1 in the books ‘The Last of Us: Where the Wild Things Are’ we do get introduced to Joel’s second biological daughter is there any potential plans to include them in the show making them canon since they aren’t in Part 2 and if so. Please for the love of all these mighty get Y/n to play your daughter she would kill the role!” The interviewer chuckles at the question and you look over at Pedro who thinks over the question.

“Well as I’m sure many of you do know in the books we do get an extremely interesting character that changes and adds more depth to the characters of the game. I’d love them to add her into the show and we see the change in Joel and Ellie during the period before season two. I mean I’d be so down for Y/n to be a part of this but that’s in the hands of Craig and Neil. Unless you know something I don’t?” Pedro turns to look at you and you raise your hands shaking your head.

“I’m just as clueless as you. But I would love to be a part of the show. I’ve read the book and she truly is such an interesting character. I mean that opening fight scene in the cabin before Joel and Tommy pull up is so fucking cool. But yeah Craig and Neil hit me up before Pedro starts begging and whining.” You say and a bark of laughter comes from the older man.

“Well thank you both so much for taking the time and talking about your lives and this amazing reunion. Is this the last you too will see each other until the next reunion?” The interviewer says.

“Nope! This girl can’t get rid of me now that we’re both back in New York for the time being.” Pedro says wrapping an arm around your shoulder and resting his head on top of yours.

“If anyone wants to take this old man off my hand you can have him,” You comment and Pedro gasps pushing you away from him as you giggle, “I’m kidding I love him and he’s amazing but yeah we got tickets for Beyonce coming up so I am very excited while I need this one to listen to her entire discography before we go,” You point your thumb at him and he raises his hand.

“Hey, I got a decent chunk under my belt. Plus I’ve known Beyonce longer than you.” Pedro says and the pair of you being bickering having that be the outro of the interview.

The pair of you collect your items from your dressing rooms before heading outside. Pedro has his arm wrapped around your shoulder to make sure you don’t bump into anything your gaze glued to your phone. The cool New York breeze sends chills down your spine as you scroll through Instagram. A buzz from your phone a text saying ‘Look up’ and when you look up you see Paul standing a few feet away in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt a trench coat over it with a cap and glasses.

“Paul!” You smile lowering your phone and pulling away from Pedro to go over to Paul who welcomes you in his arms, “I thought we were gonna meet at dinner?”

He shrugs a half grin on his face, “Thought I surprise you and then we can head together. What’s up Pedro” You smile at his thoughtfulness. Pedro accepts his handshake.

“Good to see you Paul, how’s the city treating you?” He asks knowing that Paul came here just a few days ago from London when you mentioned it.

“Good real good. You know how the city usually is but luckily I have a good guide,” Paul says squeezing your shoulder and you flush shying away. Pedro smiles glad to see you are happy as the pair of you look at each other with loving looks.

“Well, I’ll leave you both be to enjoy the rest of your night. I got plans to meet with Sarah and Lux soon,” He says giving Paul a handshake before you pull away and give Pedro a big hug which he equally reciprocates.

“Send Sarah and Lux my regards.” You say and Pedro nods, “Lux wants to see you soon so be sure to reach out to her.”

“I will and don’t forget we have drinks this Friday,” You say pointing your finger at him and he nods while pulling out his headphones.

“Yes, mom…” He rolls his eyes before starting to walk away sending a final wave, “Have a good night!”

“Bye Pedro.” “Bye P I love you!” You shout so he can hear over his headphones.

“Love you too kid!” He says blowing you a kiss before disappearing within the crowd. You bring your attention back to Paul who tucks a stray strand behind your ear.

“What are you looking at? Is something on my face?” You ask trying to reach for your face but he stops you holding your hand and giving a squeeze.

“I’m just looking at you, a chuisle mo chroí. You’re just beautiful is all.” He says slipping to Irish so easily it sends a shiver down your spine at his accent.

“Stop being so cheesy,” Your face flushes hot as you shove him away starting in the direction of the subway station. You hear him run up after you easily wrapping his arm around your waist before placing a kiss on your lips which you eagerly accept your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. Pulling away a bit, he gives a familiar smirk that makes you grin as you fully step back taking hand and the pair make their way to your plans.

“You’re such a sap.”

“A sap for you my love~”

“Shut up!”

a/n: y'all I'm alive I swear these finals have truly been killing me and TRUST, any paused work will be coming back I swear on my unborn child.

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ireadwithmyears · 29 days ago

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10 people I’d like to get to know better

Since I had two separate tags in this, @spaceyjessa and @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog I decided I would make a separate post.

Last song: with lyrics: Beautiful Boy by The Last Dinner Party (I found out about this band like two weeks ago and now I’m going through a phase I’m obsessed)

Without lyrics: I am ready by Kevin Kiner & Sean Kiner: from the bad batch season three soundtrack. Been listening to it a lot lately, as it feels pretty prevalent to the time of my life that I’m at

Favourite color: light pinks and baby blues

Last book/fic: the last book I finished was defy the storm, by Tessa Gratton (I’m getting closer and closer to being caught up on THR)

Fic: Mace Windu fixes the timeline (You should read it, it’s wonderful)

Last movie: the rise of Skywalker (yes, I love the sequel trilogy and what about it 💅)

Last show: the bad batch... I’m re-watching, again... how predictable 🙄

Sweet/spicy/savory: I have a big sweet tooth, especially when it comes to chocolate

Relationship: single real life, but in love with countless fictional characters inside my head🤩

Last thing I googled: what does the quest cookies and cream protein bar taste like? (look, I have arfid. I can’t just buy new things to try without knowing exactly what I’m getting into first)

Current obsession: Star Wars, duh! Specifically clones and TBB, the Mandalorian and the high republic

I look forward to telling you: that if you’re reading this you’re wonderful

No pressure tags (and I’m sorry if you’re being tagged again) @clonethirstingisreal @eobe @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream and anyone else who would like to.

#Tag game #Get to know me tag #tag you’re it

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year ago

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What ever you do.. don’t think about how much fun AFS! Reader and Din would have taking Grogu trick or treating.

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: fluffy, tooth rotting fluff, literally just love and softness. when given the choice of trick or treating, i chose treat.

Word Count: 1.3k

AFS universe, but not timeline congruent

[a/n: i know it's not much. it's short and simple and kind of jumps all over the place, but this was such a cute ask to imagine (plus i feel like an idiot for not thinking of doing this myself sorry work has been a nightmare), but happy halloween, y'all!]

HALLOWEEN SPECIAL:

A CLAN OF FROGS

The tulle framing your hips caught on the kitchen drawer once more and you huffed in annoyance before carefully untangling the material. The moss green dress you wore was hardly a costume on it’s own, but the headband on top of your head with two large frog eyes seemed to make it more fitting for halloween.

“Hop, hop, hop.” You turned at the sound of Grogu’s voice as he entered your view. Just as he announced, the little boy was hopping down the hall toward the kitchen. He wore a light green, hoodie style onesie. Darker spots lined his arms and legs with a yellow belly where it zipped up. The hood was pulled over his head, two frog eyes sewn to the top to stand, and you had cut holes in the side so his ears could poke through comfortably. A tuft of his white hair stuck out from under the hood, curling up around the edge messily. “Hop, hop, hop.” Grogu bounded over until he stood in front of your foot. He held his light blue, stuffed frog to his chest and beamed up at you in excitement. “Ma! We’re frogs!”

“We are.” You chuckled. “C’mere, cutie.”

Grogu jumped up, full of trust and faith, and you caught him with a laugh. He continued to bounce in your arms. The boy hadn’t stopped moving since you picked him up from school earlier with the promise of trick or treating once his father got home.

“Are you excited, baby?” You hummed.

“Candy!” Grogu replied.

Nevarro was celebrating Halloween with a festival. All of the market had been decorated for the season. Stalls and booths were now passing out candy and baked goods for any and all trick-or-treaters. On your way home, you had seen them setting up, but you were excited to see the final result.

The sound of the door opening, Din’s voice greeting you both, and Grogu wiggled out of your grip to sprint toward the door, “Buir! Buir! I’m frog!”

“I can see that, ad’ika.” Din’s chuckle rolled through the air and you came around the kitchen counter to greet him. His visor landed on you and though the helmet covered it, you could feel his smile. As if the beskar couldn’t stop that warmth from radiating out. Din had scooped up Grogu, who was using his father’s shoulders as a jungle gym, and drifted closer. “I like this look on you, ner karta. You make a very cute frog.”

You smirked and reached back for the counter where the frog hat rested, “Guess what, honey.” You held up the frog themed bucket hat. Din tilted his head at the sight of it. “You’re gonna make a really cute frog too.”

“Buir, be frog like me and Ma!” Grogu tried to bounce on Din’s shoulder, and the Mandalorian lifted a gloved hand to stabilize the boy easily.

“Alright.” Din rumbled and bowed his head down. You situated the bucket hat over the top of his helmet, it was a snug fit, and when he stood back to his full height you snickered at the sight of him while Grogu chirped his happiness. You cupped your cheeks with a teasing grin, “Oh, my two handsome boys.”

“No, Ma.” Grogu shook his head. “Not boys. Frogs.”

“Of course. I’m sorry.” You replied.

Din nodded, “Yeah, Ma, get it right.”

Grogu eagerly begged for the three of you to go. You grabbed the clean pillowcase you laid out to carry Grogu’s spoils, and on the way out Din automatically slid his hand into yours⏤ tangling his leather clad fingers with yours.

“Ad’ika! Don’t swallow that whole⏤ chew it.” Din scolded through the throngs of people and Grogu spared his father a quick glance before swallowing the brownie handed to him whole. You chuckled from beside Din who shot you a look you knew to be withered. Though taking the Mandalorian seriously in his hat was difficult.

“Grogu is making out like a thief.” You commented. Din’s arm lazily rested around your shoulders. The two of you were trailing behind Grogu who was dragging his half full pillowcase of goodies to stall after stall. He had technically already seen everyone once, but the second time around it seemed everyone found him too cute to deny giving him more.

Din shook his head. “They’re spoiling him.”

“Yeah, okay.” You snorted. “You’re one to talk.”

“I don’t spoil him.”

“Mhmm.”

Din lifted the hand hanging around your shoulder to lightly grasp and tug down on your ear making you laugh. It was a known fact that Grogu had Din wrapped around his little, green finger. Din could be in denial all he wanted. You held the boy’s stuffed frog to your chest. Grogu had trusted you with the task of carrying the comfort toy while he held his pillowcase himself.

“You know,” You bumped your hip against his lightly, “We make a cute little family of frogs.”

Din hummed in agreement and you felt him pull you closer into his side, “Not just when we’re frogs.” The words came out mumbled under his modulator, but you caught them all the same and glanced away from Grogu pleading for more snacks to stare up at the bucket hat wearing warrior. There was something that made your heart just ache in joy anytime Din referred to the three of you as a family. He must have felt the gaze as he turned to look your way. Din cleared his throat and shook his head. “You know, I just mean…”

“I know.” You nodded and turned back to stare at Grogu who was scarfing down another brownie. “I think so too.”

Din didn’t respond, but you felt him squeeze your shoulder.

“Not sleepy.” Grogu mumbled in your arms as you cradled, finally home once more. He had wiped himself out running around gathering treats and playing with the other kids. His sugar high nearly had him vibrating at the time, and now he was only barely clinging to consciousness. Grogu had his own frog back in his arms as Din dumped out the goodies from the boy’s pillowcase. You stood in the living room just gazing down at the adorable boy fighting sleep in your arms. You chuckled and Grogu scrunched his nose with a pout. “Not funny. Not sleepy.”

“I think you are sleepy, little frog.” You whispered and lifted a finger to drag down the length of his nose. His brow grew more heavy as you repeated the motion and when he realized what you were doing he whined and squirmed.

“Wanna play more.” Grogu’s words mumbled and muffled together, laden with sleep.

“Time for bed, ad’ika.” Din replied. His voice was unmodulated and when he stepped up behind you, Din pressed his head to the side of yours while wrapping his arms around you and Grogu both. The curiosity around Din’s features always existed in the back of your mind, but you had no qualms with keeping your eyes locked on the little green bundle in your arms. Grogu whined at Din’s words, but he also nestled deeper into your arms and against your chest. You went back to tracing over his brow and nose lightly with the tip of your finger and playing with the tuft of white hair still sticking out from under his hood. Eventually, Grogu slipped into sleep, losing the battle, and his soft snores filled the air. You still didn’t move. Din buried his face against the crook of your neck, peppering kisses along the skin there, before murmuring, “Do you want me to take him and put him to bed?”

“No.” You replied. “I don’t wanna put him down yet.”

A part of you was sure you could stand in this one spot for the rest of your life. Grogu cuddled to your chest, safe and warm, as Din’s strong arms wrapped around you both. Din chuckled, you felt the rumbling sound, and when he spoke he did so with his lips brushing against your skin, “Now, who’s spoiling him?”

You let out a soft sigh of content and let your weight lean back on your heels to rest against Din. The Mandalorian just rested his head on your shoulder and the three of you savored the moment of quiet and peace.

buir: father ad'ika: little one ner karta: my heart

For notifs on updates, as I no longer do taglists, please follow @theidiotupdates

dividers by @saradika

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #a fresh start #reader insert #mando x reader #mando x you #mando #din djarin fluff #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 2 months ago

Text

Skira - Part Two

Author's Note: This is part two of my submission for @beefrobeefcal's Glandalorian Writing Challenge. Was it supposed to be finished in November? Yes, yes it was. Is it now December 11th? Also yes. But here we are. This part has two of the three required prompts - the line "I saw what you did. This is not the way." as well as a reference to Dieter Bravo - and it was a lot of fun for me to figure out how to include both. There is still a lot more to come in this story, so I hope no one minds that it's fully trailing into the holiday season. Thank you to everyone who read the first part, I truly hope you enjoy this next bit!

Part One

Word Count: 6,625

Warnings: canon-typical violence and underworld unpleasantness

Summary: Skira is Mando'a for revenge - with a personal edge.

RTK111

Hyperspace travel had never seemed so slow.

The N1’s landing gear had barely skimmed the top layer of grime covering the unnamed planet’s surface when Din released the airlock, the cockpit dome swinging open with a sharp hiss. Finally. He hoisted himself up and out of the ship in one swift movement, striding straight for the dilapidated buildings and abandoned warehouses of the former shipping port. Those structures now served as black market trade hubs, crime dens and cantinas, the whole place crawling with bail jumpers and gangsters.

And you were being held hostage by one of the most notorious among them.

Not for long.

Pressing a button on his vambrace, Din sealed the cockpit without looking back. As he made his way through the graffitied maze, following the same path he took the last time he was there, he replayed the conversation he had with Bo-Katan moments after dropping out of hyperspace.

“The Shale twins told me everything,” she stated, forgoing a greeting in the interest of saving what little time they’d have to speak. “I’ll look after the kid for you, you have my word on that.”

“Thank you.” Though Din had no doubt that she would agree to help when he asked Leera to pass the message, a wave of relief passed through him with the confirmation that Grogu would be taken care of until he returned. “I shouldn’t be long,” he added, beginning the navigational sequence to guide him through the meteor field that surrounded his destination. “I’ve had dealings with the Karesh gang before.” He glanced down at his wrist, where a full round of whistling birds were loaded in the launching device. “They were brief.”

“You’ve dealt with Gor Karesh in the past,” Bo countered, vitriol filling her voice as she continued. “I’ve heard that his brother Kol is twice as smart and far more ruthless. He’s obsessed with acquiring beskar to sell on the black market.” She paused, letting out a sigh. “Look, I know you’re going to do whatever you have to do to get your riduur back, and I support that. I just wanted you to know what you’re up against.” She narrowed her eyes then, the sharpness in them piercing through the grainy holo image. “Make him pay for this.”

Din moved his head in a single nod. Oh, I plan to. “This is the Way.”

Music pulsed from doorways as patrons stumbled in and out of them, but they all gave a wide berth to the Mandalorian stalking assertively down the street. Chances were high that several of them had outstanding bounties on their heads. As such, his presence on the underworld planet spooked them into less rowdy behavior. I’m not here for them, but they don’t need to know that. No one said a word to him until he was right outside the warehouse that the Karesh brothers had turned into a cantina, when a pair of Gamorrean guards blocked the door with their axes.

A Nikto acting as a bouncer held up his hand and gestured to the guards to lower their weapons, a grin spreading over his horned face as he realized who had just arrived. “Easy, boys,” he said, eyes traveling over Din’s armor and landing on the Mudhorn signet. “This here is the boss’ special guest. Go on and let ‘im pass.”

The Gamoreans grunted but acquiesced, stepping back and allowing Din to enter the building. Good choice. They wouldn’t have stopped him if it came to it, but avoiding conflict until it was necessary was the best way to get you out of there safely. And that’s all that matters.

“I’m here to see Kol Karesh,” he stated to the bouncer. “You can either take me to him, or you can get out of my way.”

Chuckling, the Nikto reached out to drop his hand on Din’s shoulder. “Relax, Mandalorian.” He did the opposite, shucking away the contact with a quick shrug. That only drew another laugh from the bouncer. “The boss has been looking forward to meeting you. No need for- ”

“Then take me to him,” Din growled, cutting him off and taking a menacing step forward that forced the smaller being to take an involuntary one back. “Wouldn’t want to keep him waiting any longer.” He tilted his chin down, one hand resting on his holstered blaster. “And you don’t want to test my patience, either.”

Letting out a huff of air that sounded more nervous than he likely meant to let on, the bouncer nodded. “Noted.” He swallowed, then cleared his throat. “Right then. Follow me.” With that, he turned, Din following him as he made his way through the crowded cantina.

Weaving through the throngs of patrons gathered around the bar, the two headed toward the back of the open space, where a fighting arena stood. In it, a Devoronian and Twi’lek were locked in an armed battle, both warriors bearing cuts, burns and bruises, but neither showing signs of surrender. Dozens of spectators were gathered around, cheering encouragement and yelling swears alike, and it was clear that many - if not all - of them had placed bets on the outcome of the fight.

As he walked deeper inside, Din scanned the room for any sign of you - or of where you might be being held - but nothing immediately stood out to him. I’ll find her. He followed the bouncer beyond the arena and through a back door, the crowd noise dampening as it shut behind them. And when I do, they’ll wish they’d never touched her.

“Boss is in his office.”

The Nikto’s voice broke through thoughts of what he would do to the man who had taken you captive, Din’s concealed eyes snapping to the door at the end of the short hallway. Pointing at it, the bouncer jerked his head over his shoulder. “Just, uh… Right through there.” Alone in the small space with him, the Nikto lost what little nerve he had, shifting from foot to foot and keeping his eyes anywhere but on the dark slit of Din’s visor. “Alright. Well.” He clapped his hands together in front of him and let out a tense chuckle. “I should be getting back to my post. Can’t trust those pig brutes to decide who gets in and who doesn’t, you know what I mean? You can certainly take it from here. Door’s unlocked. Don’t need me to open it for you, right? Right.”

By the time he answered his own question, the Nikto had already slipped back out and into the arena, leaving Din standing in front of Karesh’s office. Without wasting another moment, he reached for the panel next to the door and used the side of his balled fist to hit the activator switch. With a hitch and a grinding whir, the door slid open diagonally.

“Ah, Mandalorian. I see you got my invitation.” Kol Karesh let out a barking laugh, a thick cloud of smoke bursting from his mouth as he did. Another, thinner column emanated from the lit cigar he held. “Please, come in.” The Abyssin gestured with his occupied hand, wisps of smoke dancing as he moved. As soon as Din stepped into the room, the door slammed shut with much more ease and force than it opened with. “We have business to discuss, you and I.”

“Karesh.” Din’s own voice sounded almost foreign to his ears, anger deepening the tone of it in a way that he hadn’t experienced since Moff Gideon had taken Grogu captive. “The only business I have here is getting my riduur back.” And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen. “Where is she?”

Karesh clicked his tongue and leaned forward in his chair, setting his cigar down on the rim of a carved stone ashtray. “Your woman is fine.” He gave Din a dismissive wave of his hand. “You think I don’t know how collateral works?” He laughed darkly. “I never wanted to do her any actual harm. I just needed to get you here. And here you are, alone, like I asked, so she’s safe.” Using both hands, he indicated the chair opposite his own. “Now, why don’t you take a seat so we can discuss-”

In a blur of motion, Din grabbed the back of the chair he was offered and threw it against the wall. Two of the legs splintered as it clattered to the floor, Kol’s single eye following the stray pieces.

“I’m not sitting down with you. There’s nothing to discuss.” He felt his nostrils flare and his top lip curl. White hot rage flooded his bloodstream at the audacity shown by the scum seated across from him. The only reason he’s still alive right now is because I don’t know where he’s keeping her. “These are my terms - You let her go, and I let you live.”

Karesh hummed, making a show of pretending to mull the offer over. Reaching for the ashtray, he picked up his cigar, taking a slow puff before blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth.

“Counter offer,” he said through a self-satisfied smirk. “You agree to fight in my next tournament, the details of which…” He paused, circling his hand and causing the red-hot end of his smoke to shed a few embers. “Well, we can work those out later, but you fighting in a tournament would sell a lot of tickets. The bottom line is that you need to make me whole, here, Mandalorian. See, you cut into the Karesh family profits when you… dispatched my brother. The cantina had to close for a time, fights were cancelled.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Not to mention the outstanding debts that Gor owed, which now fall to me to cover.” The Abyssin stamped the cigar out in the tray, sliding it away from himself before crossing his arms over the desktop. “You cost me an awful lot when you strung that idiot up in the street, and it’s high time you paid me back.”

It was already clear to Din that Kol Karesh was a man of extremely low morals. But hearing the way that he spoke of the death of his own kin as though it were nothing but a bad business deal made him seem even lower, even more despicable.

“What makes you think I’m interested in playing by your rules?” His head tilted slightly, but he kept the horizontal slit of his visor trained on Kol’s large eye. “Your brother chose his own fate, and your profits aren’t my concern. My terms were clear. This isn’t a negotiation.”

At that, the Abyssin chuckled. “No, It isn’t. I’ve made sure of that.”

Pulling open a drawer, Karesh produced a holopad and held it up. Din felt his blood go cold as he saw what was being displayed on the screen. No.

It was you, but you weren’t alone.

You were joined by two of Kol Karesh’s thugs - one with the point of his vibroblade resting against the small of your back, the other standing a few paces in front of you and holding a short leather leash. At the end of the leash was a snarling beast, and Din recognized the species immediately.

“You see,” Kol leaned forward so he could glance at the screen without turning it away from Din, just in time to watch you squirm away from the beast’s jaws. “She’s safe. For now. But I can change that.”

Heart pounding furiously beneath his armor and behind his ribs, Din drew his blaster with lightning speed. “I’ll say it one more time.” His growl rumbled through the modulator in his helmet. “You let her go, and I let you live.” I won’t, but he doesn’t need to know that.

The gangster just scoffed. “Put that away before you do something you’ll regret.” Before Din could express that he was a man with very few regrets - and that blasting a crater through the belly of the scum who was holding his future riduur hostage would certainly not be one of them - Karesh tapped the upper right corner of the screen, bringing his attention to a ticking timer. “You’ll agree to my terms before that countdown expires, or Shyrr-” He brought his finger down to point out the Quarren who was handling the animal. “-Will drop the leash.”

Din’s eyes flicked to the timer. Dank farrik. He hadn’t noticed it at first, focused solely on you. He swore under his breath as he realized that because he didn’t know where in the compound you were being held, he didn’t have time to kill Karesh and find you before the clock zeroed out. And I won’t risk her. Seething, he lowered his blaster and returned it to its holster.

“Ah, a wise decision. I haven’t fed that thing in days,” Kol stated. “It's hungry. Just like the ones you let rip my brother apart in that alley.”

On screen, the hulking thug at your back urged you to take a step forward with a jab of his weapon. Rage bloomed in Din’s chest at the sound you made; at the wince on your face, a mixture of fear, pain and defiance. The mongrel snapped its jagged jaws close to your ankles, Kol’s men laughing at your expense.

From his office, the Abyssin joined them. “It would make quick work of your lovely betrothed. Tell me, Mandalorian, do you think it would go for her throat first? Or maybe the gut?” He shrugged. “So many soft, fleshy places to choose from.”

The anger burned through him like acid as Karesh barked out another laugh. “If anything happens to her, I won’t stop until I’ve killed every single one of your men.” Din placed his palms on the desktop and leaned over them menacingly. “And then I’ll kill you.”

Much to the Mandalorian’s surprise, his threat only made Karesh laugh harder. “Ho Ho! You see?” He slapped his knee. “Such fire! I knew you would make for an excellent gladiator, even if it took some motivation to get you here.”

From the holopad, Din heard you let out another pained whimper, the sound hitting him like a blaster bolt straight through his chest. He glanced at the countdown in the corner, then back at you. There was still some time left, but he didn’t need any more of it to run before he spoke. “Call off your men.”

“Is this you agreeing? Before even hearing the details?” Kol blinked. “You really aren’t here to negotiate.” He cackled to himself, then used a wrist comm to call Shyrr. “Show’s over, boys, you can bring her back to her cell now.”

“You got it, boss.” A gruff voice responded through the comm, and then Din watched as the heavily muscled man at your back dragged you out of frame.

“Where are they taking her?” He demanded, balling his hands into fists. “I’m only agreeing to your terms if you let her go.”

“Ah,” Karesh closed his eye and sat back in his chair, the base creaking as it rocked with his weight. “You see now you didn’t hear the full details of my terms.” He opened his eye again, fixing it directly on Din’s visor. “You’ll fight in my tournament, that part we’re clear on. What I didn’t tell you about is the entry fee.”

“Entry fee?” Din repeated, the modulator doing nothing to hide the contempt in his voice. “What are you talking about?” He shook his head slowly. “I’m not paying you anyth-”

“Yes,” Karesh interrupted, standing for the first time since Din arrived, his abrupt motion causing both his desk and chair to move. “You will.” He sneered. “Or I’ll contact Shyrr and Drace again, and they’ll happily dispose of your precious little down payment.” Cocking his head to the side, he took two steps around the desk. “Did you think that trick with the dog is the only one I have up my sleeves?” The Abyssin blew air through his lips and reached into his shirt pocket. “There’s more than one way to skin a loth-cat,” he mused, revealing your Mudhorn pendant, the beskar gleaming in the dim light of the gangster’s office. “If you catch my drift.”

His drift was crystal clear.

He outplayed me. Bo-Katan had warned him that Kol was more clever, more cunning, and more brutal than his brother. And the scum was proving her right, leaving Din with no choice but to follow Karesh’s script. At least until I find her.

Rage blurred his vision, but Din kept his eyes locked on the necklace. “What do you want?”

“I want what my brother failed to gain,” he responded, a sick grin twisting his features. “I want your armor.”

Despite the rest of Bo’s warning, regarding Karesh’s hobby of stripping Mandalorians of their beskar, the demand caught him off guard. He thought back to what he had said when Gor - or the countless others who had tried to challenge him for his armor throughout the years - had made the same demand. You’d have to take it from my corpse.

That was before he had you to lose. And though his armor was as much a part of him as was his flesh and bone, especially the pieces that were imbued with beskar from his father’s armor, you were his life. You and Grogu. Just like the decision he faced on Morak that led to the removal of his helmet, this was another impossible choice to make, because either way he would lose something. But there’s only one right answer.

Before he could reluctantly agree, Karesh spoke again. “I can tell this is a sensitive topic for you. Or, at least it was for the last Mandalorian I did business with.” He laughed, the sound turning Din’s stomach. “But you’re a… special case. See, with you, the thrill of making you remove your armor is worth more to me than what I would get for it on the market. With you, it’s about control. Gor thought he could control you, but he failed. I won’t.”

So it’s not really about the credits. This is about his pride.

Karesh waved his hand as he went on. “So how about this for a compromise. You forfeit your armor today, helmet and all, to buy your precious poppet’s freedom. I’ll hold onto her, of course, for safekeeping, while you earn your armor back piece by piece. You win a fight, you get to choose a piece. Lose a fight, lose a piece. Die?” A smug grin inched its way across Kol’s face. “And I keep the beskar, and the poppet.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Din’s chest heaved with the way his anger changed his breathing. I’m not going to lose, Karesh. You are. “You can count on that.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about, Mando.” The Abyssin tossed your pendant to him, Din catching it carefully in one gloved hand. “Here, as a show of good faith, I’ll let you keep her little trinket. It can help remind you what you’re fighting for.”

The absolute last thing in the galaxy that he would need was a reminder. Though the ceremony had yet to happen, your name had already been written on his heart as far as Din was concerned. He stared down at your necklace in his palm as he spoke. “I’ll need continued proof that she’s safe.” Slowly, he closed his fingers around the sculpted pendant and lowered that arm to his side. “And I’ll need to see her. Not just on the holo screen.”

Karesh rolled his eye. “I know better than to dangle a bruised cachu fruit if I want to get my fathier to run, so to speak.” He perched his hands on his hips and blinked. “You know, I’m in a generous mood, so I’ll cut you another deal. I’ll let you see your little missus tonight. In fact -” He clapped his palms together. “She can be the one to relieve you of your beskar.”

Din’s eyes fell shut as the weight of what that would mean washed over him. Since redeeming himself in the Living Waters, he hadn’t shown his face to anyone aside from Grogu, and only when the two were alone. You had yet to see him without his helmet. That moment was supposed to be reserved for your wedding night, when you officially bound your hearts and souls together. That was when you were supposed to look into his eyes for the first time, behind closed doors and with a soft, warm bed to fall into. Not here on this scudhole planet, in the bowels of a derelict warehouse with Kol Karesh and his goons watching.

His heart sank, knowing that keeping that moment sacred was just as important to you as it was to him. I’m sorry, mesh’la.

“Uh oh,” Karesh filled the silence that Din had let hang between them. “Not getting cold feet are you? This offer won’t last forever, so if you’re not going to take it then let me know. Because a freighter headed for Nal Hutta comes in tomorrow morning, and if you’re backing out now I can still sell that pretty poppet of yours to the Hutt Cartel and-”

Something snapped in Din at the threat of you being sold to anyone, let alone one of the most nefarious crime syndicates in the Outer Rim. Reaching for Karesh’s collar, he grabbed it with one hand and yanked the Abyssin off the ground.

“If you even think about doing that, there will be nowhere in this galaxy where you’ll be safe from me.” His tone was ice cold, but measured and steady.

Struggling to speak with Din’s grip tightening close to the point of strangulation, Kol choked and sputtered out a response. “So…at’s a… a yes, then?” He coughed aggressively as Din dropped him back on his feet. “You’re in?”

With a single nod that splintered his heart and stoked the fury in his gut, Din confirmed. “I’m in.” For her.

“Perfect!” Karesh’s throat still sounded hoarse even as he gleefully used his wrist comm to contact his men again. “Shyrr, have Trixi bring our special guest to the gladiator’s barracks.” There was a muffled answer, and then Karesh was speaking to Din again. “Eight fights. Tournament starts in two days, you get two fights a day. Then, if everything goes the way you’re oh, so sure it will -” his laugh turned into a cough. “- you and your lady will be gone by next week.”

Din just stared at him. And you’ll be dead.

“Now.” Kol stepped over to a clunky storage locker in the corner of his crowded office, pulling one of the doors open. But instead of shelves of data disks or credit ledgers, the entire facade of the locker opened as a door to a hidden passage. “Let’s reunite you with your sweetheart.”

– – –

You hadn’t even been back in your cell long enough for your hands to stop shaking, the bloodthirsty mongrel’s breath still hot on your ankles, when the door at the end of the corridor slid open, the sound of light but distinctly metallic footsteps reaching your ears.

What now?

You stood from the hard bench Shyrr had dropped you onto after Karesh had called off the intimidation tactic. Letting out an uneven breath, you reached for the bars with your bound hands and peeked through them. Though you were unsure what to expect at that point, after being ambushed, abducted, imprisoned and threatened by an underworld gang, you certainly weren’t expecting to see what you did.

What the kr-

“Greetings, human guest!”

A gleaming, silver protocol droid appeared, speaking in a tone that was far too cheerful for your surroundings and situation. You heard the quiet whir of mechanical joints as it took a few more steps to stand before you. Unlike most class-three protocol droids you’d previously encountered, this one had been built with more feminine features, including a stylized shaped head to give the impression of a bob haircut, and curled strands of metal embellished its eye-bulbs to look like long lashes. Before you could insist that you were definitely not a guest, your new visitor spoke again.

“I am TR-1X, Talent Relations Liaison, but you may call me Trixi.”

“Um.” You swallowed, watching as the droid’s faux lashes moved with the programmed blinking of its eyes. This is… bizarre. “H-hello, Trixi. Can you tell me what’s-”

“It is nice to meet you, doll.” The droid cut you off, sounding even cheerier than before as her eye-bulbs glowed happily. “But we will have to save the girl-talk for later. The boss sent me here with a high priority task, and unfortunately I am not permitted to override it in favor of pleasantries. Now, please direct your attention to the far wall and save all questions and comments until the holo has ended.”

With that, Trixi’s eye-bulbs spun in their sockets like casino slots, switching from white to blue as they projected a holo-recording onto the grimey wall of your cell. You turned to have a better view, and as soon as you did, you sucked in a gasp.

Din. Your feet took you a few steps closer to the projection, a quick swell of hope filling your chest. He’s here.

But the relief you felt when you recognized his broad frame dissipated with the realization that if Karesh had sent this droid to show you something, it likely wasn’t something you would want to see. He’s playing with us. The binders around your wrists clattered as you clenched your fists. He wants to hurt Din and he wants me to see it. When it became clear exactly how Karesh intended to do that, you felt the air leave your lungs. Heart pounding, you watched as the man you loved struck a gut-wrenching deal for your freedom. Oh, no. Fresh tears slipped down your cheeks as you noticed the slight change in Din’s posture as he agreed to Karesh’s terms.

“Oh, Din,” you whispered, as the holo ended and Trixi’s eyes spun back to their original state. “I’m sorry.”

None of it was your fault, and you knew that. You did nothing to draw the attention of the Karesh gang. It wasn’t your past leaping into the present. It was Din’s, there was no denying that. But you didn’t blame him. How could you, when it had been you who talked him out of his fears that something like this would happen? You, who had been the one to insist that there would be nothing that the two of you couldn’t face together? There was no blame to be doled out as far as you were concerned, not between the two of you.

But that didn’t change the fact that you were sorry about what was being demanded of him.

“Alright, doll,” Trixi’s sunny voice from behind you made you turn back to face her. “I know I said we’d have time for chit-chat after the holo, but I just received a new directive which means that it will have to wait a bit longer. But don’t worry!” Her head titled at a slight angle as she leaned forward. “We will have plenty of time to get to know one another after this next directive is fulfilled.”

With that, Trixi stepped up to the panel on the wall that controlled the bars of your cell. Batting her metallic eye lashes, she set the bulbs spinning again until they settled on a greenish light. As soon as the sensor on the panel registered the frequency that Trixi was projecting, the bars of your cell slid up into the wall above them, and you were free. For half a beat, your adrenaline fueled brain tripped over itself as you considered your options.

I could run. Should I run? How would I find Din? What would I- You stopped yourself. I don’t have options right now. Not if you wanted both of you to survive this encounter.

With another blink, Trixi’s eye-bulbs returned to normal, and the droid faced you again. “Right this way,” she said, brightly coaxing you to follow her. “I am to bring you to the barracks. There is a new gladiator who requires your attention.”

“Din?” You asked the droid as you stepped over the threshold of your cell. “The new gladiator, is he a Mandalorian?”

Trixi had already begun walking down the corridor, and you hurried to catch up. She swiveled her head so that she was facing you when she responded. “Sure is, doll. Pretty exciting, don’t you think?”

You assumed that the droid would lead you through the same door she had used when she entered the prison wing, but you were wrong. Instead, she paused by a wall panel that looked misplaced, as though it had been installed in error, her eyes emitting the same green light that had worked on the panel of your cell. To your shock, a slice of the wall opened up in front of you, revealing a hidden passage.

Exciting? You shook your head, eyebrows pinched together, and followed your guide through the wall. “No, Trixi, that’s my fiance. And your boss is keeping me prisoner to force him into his tournament.” And to force him out of his beskar.

“Oh, that’s nonsense, doll!” Trixi waved a hand at you, the joints whirring audibly. “Mr. Karesh runs an entertainment enterprise. All of the contracts he draws up for the talent are on the up and up. I know because I review them myself.” She let out a bubbly sound that you were possibly supposed to take as a chuckle. “And you are not a prisoner, silly! You are a guest! That is why I have been assigned to make sure that you are comfortable during your stay here.” Her head swiveled again so that she was facing forward, another of her trilling chuckles accompanying the movement. “Prisoners are not assigned Talent Relation Liaison droids.”

On the up and up? You narrowed your eyes at the back of Trixi’s sculpted bob. Her programming has clearly been… adjusted. Though she was just a droid, you felt bad for her. In a way, TR-1X was just as much a prisoner as you and Din were. You doubted that working for a crime boss was what she had been originally built for, especially with the way that you saw her eye-bulbs function. That’s not standard in other human relation models. And it doesn’t look like she’s got any weapons. Class three droids typically didn’t. What the kriff is a TR droid even supposed to do?

You decided that the best way to find out was to ask. “I know you said we’ll have time to talk later, Trix,” you said, following her around a corner. “But I’m curious. What is the primary function of a TR unit?”

Trixi slowed for a step or two before resuming her pace. “My primary function?” Her eyes glowed a warm gold, almost giving off a nostalgic feeling. “TR units were created to assist in the production of holodramas. My main functions were procuring talent to cast in films and ensuring that things ran smoothly during production. Before I was sold to the Karesh brothers, I worked as a directorial assistant droid on countless holodrama sets,” Trixi stated. “I worked with Wynessa Starflare, Jeffa Day, Dieter Bravo -”

You shook your head. “Sorry, who?”

Trixi’s eye sockets shone brightly with surprise. “You don’t know Dieter Bravo? Wynessa Starflare? But, they were in some of the biggest theatrical epics filmed since the days of the Old Republic! ” When you only shrugged, she made a disapproving noise, her eyes dimming as her shoulder joints drooped. “Oh, I miss Coruscant. No one in the Outer Rim knows their holodramas. It’s depressing.”

“Not much need for that sort of entertainment in the Outer Rim, I guess.” You grimaced, realizing that the kind of entertainment that was in demand in the Outer Rim, was the kind that had landed you where you were - illegal gambling, fighting, and other, even less palatable pastimes.

“No matter! I can still be of use to Mr. Karesh as he builds his gladiatorial business. Ticket sales are ticket sales, afterall!” She was back to her overly perky tone. “Okay, doll.” She turned another corner and a door came into view. “Here we are. The boss said to give you a moment, so…”

You swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, and hurried up to the door, turning to wait for Trixi to open it. As soon as you heard the click of the mechanism, you spun towards the opening, eyes skipping over the various beings scattered throughout the large space and landing immediately on the familiar, tattered and darned material of Din’s cape. As though he could feel your gaze, he turned, taking in the sight of you. It was impossible, then, to tell who moved first, both of you striding to meet the other.

He spoke your name as you reached him, his arms winding around you to corral your body close to his chest. You folded yourself into his embrace, laying your cheek to the cold plate of his armor, tears once again flowing freely as he held you. “Mesh’la,” he murmured, one hand coming up to curve around the back of your head. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, knowing that he felt your response. “No, but I…” I don’t want you to have to do this. You pulled back to look at him, his hold loosening enough to allow you to do so. You noted that he had already been relieved of his weapons. Of course. “Din.” You took a shaky breath, tears rolling down your cheeks and giving your voice a watery sound. “I saw what-” You shook your head. “On the holo. They had me watch when you- I saw what you did. What you agreed to.” You shook your head as his hands fell to your waist. “This is not the Way.”

He said your name again, then, bringing one hand up to lift your chin so that you could look nowhere but at the visor concealing his eyes. “The Creed is very important to me. But walking the Way of the Mandalore will always come second to keeping my family safe.”

You knew that to be true. You knew what he had gone through to keep Grogu safe, and you knew when you’d been taken that he would stop at nothing to do the same for you. But you also knew how important his redemption had been to him, and you hated the idea that this stunt of Karesh’s was tarnishing what he had earned in the eyes of his tribe. By the same token, you knew how important it had been for him not to remove his helmet around you until after your marriage ceremony.

“I know, Din.” You placed your palms on his chest. “I just… I wish…” You lowered your head. “This isn’t right. He’s making you take off your helmet. So many people will see you, and-.”

Leaning in, Din rested the front of his helmet against your forehead, one hand curling around the base of your neck. “I have earned the right to wear my helmet after exposing my face before, and I will do it again. That’s not… I care less about that than I do about…” Your heart twisted as he struggled to get his words out. Because I know what he’s trying to say. Oh, Din. “It’s not how I…” He sighed, his thumb slowly swiping up and down the back of your neck. “This isn’t how I imagined it would be, showing you my face for the first time. I… It should be when-”

When his voice broke, so did your heart.

“Then let’s keep it that way.” You swallowed, reaching up with both hands to grip his wrist.

Straightening up, he moved his head side to side in confusion. “But, if you saw the holo, you know the terms. Karesh made it clear that he wanted you to be the one to remove my armor.”

You nodded. “He did.” Moving your hands to the collar of his flight suit, your fingers found the purple scarf you’d given him, and tugged it free. “But he didn’t say I had to see anything.” You handed him the fabric. “Blindfold me before I take your helmet off. I’ll keep it on until you have it back.”

It meant that you wouldn’t be able to watch him in the arena - if that was even allowed as the “guest” of Trixi’s Mr. Karesh. But if it meant that you could protect just a small piece of his Creed, you would do it without question.

You heard the sound of hefty footsteps coming closer, followed by the bright sound of Trixi’s voice as she greeted her boss, and knew that your time alone was coming to an end. “Din?” You looked up at him as he closed his fingers around the scarf in his hand. “I love you. I know we’ll get through this. Please, just… Just don’t get hurt.”

“We will get through this,” he responded firmly. “And I won’t be the one who gets hurt.” Reaching up with his empty hand, he swiped at your tears. “I love you, cyare.”

With that, you turned around to let him tie the deep purple scarf around your eyes, his touch gentle as he knotted the material. It smelled like him, and for a few seconds, you allowed that to comfort you. But as you turned again, one of Din’s large hands taking hold of both of yours, the door that you had come through opened, and Kol Karesh stepped through with Shyrr, Drace and Trixi on his heels.

“Isn’t this sweet,” Kol teased as he took in the blindfold that you wore. “I wouldn’t wanna watch him in that arena either, poppet.” He laughed, Shyrr and Drace slowly joining him. “Okay!” He clapped his hands together, the goons falling silent again. “Go on, poppet. Show us that he’s just a man under there.”

You felt Din squeeze your hand, the gesture small but the comfort behind it

Immense. Returning it, you let out a long, slow breath, and then you released his hand, and began undoing the fasteners that held his armor in place, removing it piece by piece.

When you had finished, and there was a small stack of beskar by your feet, Karesh clapped his hands again. “Very good, poppet. See? Just a man.” His gravelly laugh turned your stomach. “That’s all I need you for right now. Trixi!” He barked for the droid and then you heard the metallic sound of her footsteps. “Bring our guest to her new quarters.”

Trixi appeared at your elbow then, the cool metal of her animatronic fingers a shock to your skin, the difference between her touch and the feel of Din’s armor enormous. “Alright, doll. Time for that girl talk I promised!”

Before she could steer you away, though, you felt something else - something warm and soft and full of promise. You felt the press of Din’s lips to your tear-stained cheek. “I’ll get us out of here, mesh’la.”

Though his Creed had been broken in a catastrophic way, your response felt right as you whispered back to him. “This is the Way.”

It was the last thing you said to him before Trixi pulled you away, the door to the barracks slamming shut behind you with Din - and a room full of beings he would have to fight to win his freedom - trapped on the other side.

-- -- --

Thank you for reading! If you'd like to be added to or removed from my taglists, please feel free to let me know! You can use the form on my masterlist or just shoot me a message!

For now, I'm going to use the taglist that I currently have. Apologies if you get a tag and don't want a tag - it's been a million years.

tags:

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@marauderskeeper @disgruntledspacedad @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @stevie75

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#the glandalorian 2024 #november writing challenge #(in december)#skira #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fic #clan mudhorn #din and grogu #i'm so excited for you guys to meet Trixi!

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grippingbeskar · 2 years ago

Text

unearthed

chapter one - matched

warnings— canon typical violence, mentions of death, loss, injury, maybe a lil trauma

a/n— and we’re back! just over a year of having this account, and the end of season three, and i’m back where i started. thirsting after the mandalorian. i’m super excited about this one, and even though i think there will be a bit of a wait between chapters i promise its because they are going to be higher quality. also, obviously there will be smut further on (come on, it’s me. of course we are going to fuck him.) so no minors please!! hope you enjoy! big thank-you to @kyberblade for beta reading and saving me from my typos i love u.

also a psa. disregard season three for this fic. it fucked up my timeline so i’m changing it. things might be a bit all over the place, but it’s just going to be what i wanna do with it HAHAH no rhyme or reason :)

[series masterlist] [next chapter] [tag list sign up]

You stared out into the never ending darkness, interspersed by twinkling hints of far away planets, all of them seeming more and more out of reach as you were shuffled out into the hall. Flanked by guards, the view from your room disappeared from sight, replaced by the familiar, safe walls of your palace. This was your life now— being shoved towards the known and away from those giant stretches of sky you longed so much for. Your duty, you say to yourself. This was the way you had to live, destined to the confines of your pre-determined universe. It is what you were born to do.

You knew this day would come. You were, as you were constantly, incessantly reminded, the last of the royal bloodline. After your parents early death, it left you as heir and sole survivor to the throne. All of your life, you had been trained for this moment, but it was something that was always so...distant.

You used to look forward to this time in your life, where you’d get to travel the galaxy, finally earning some of that coveted freedom all the other girls in the palace talked about. You dreamed of seeing the galaxy, being unknown on an Outer Rim planet, going wherever your heart takes you. You thought you’d have time to live. But then, within the blink of an eye, you were rushed through your coronation and left to carry the burden of commanding an entire planet. It was like a rug was ripped out from underneath you, all while someone dropped a fifty pound weight over your head, all the while chiding you for stumbling over.

In the wake of the Empire finally falling around the galaxy, planets all around the suns were scrambling— resources were scarce, trade routes were un-secure and stability was out of reach. This was the same for you, because the future of your planet was now in your hands, and you had no idea what to make of it.

Unfortunately for you, stability in a woman’s world came in the form of a contract. Most usually, a marriage contract.

This meant, much to your dismay, an entourage of young, hopeful (and practically brainless) men arriving on your doorstep, all popping the question in hopes of securing the new Queen's hand in marriage. Your hand. You knew your planet was important and appealing, with its natural resources, expanding economy in spite of the Empire’s devastation, and an abundance of funds for all the newest technologies with the death of two of the greatest ruling minds of the time. Any leader of even a remotely nearby planet would strike on this opportunity— you know you would, if it were someone else.

The whole idea wasn’t new, but it still made your gut twist. Your parents were lucky they had something more– real love, and a home filled with the stuff of fairytales. While you knew this was rare, it made you long for that. Knowing it was real, that a connection like that could be somewhere out there for you, but you’d never reach it because you never got the chance to try... you knew you were lucky, but it didn’t stop your heart from longing for more. You wanted someone to show you the stars, to let you be you, and not just try to win you like a prize or a notch in their belt.

Everyone around you said this was the smart thing to do. Choose someone— anyone who would bring you what you wanted. Your planet, as fertile as it is, is not famous for its army. That was clear during the reign of the Empire, and now the New Republic was thinning their guard posts after the war, you needed manpower. You knew it was a necessity, and you wanted to keep your people safe, but to offer yourself up like a prized mare? You were a Queen, and you were planning to be a good one, with or without a husband.

As you sat on the throne, dismissing yet another suitor with a shake of your head, the collective group of your father’s– now your own Advisors groaned, and one walked up the steps, approaching you with a slightly bowed head.

“Your Majesty, if I may…” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, only because you knew the watchful gaze of neighbouring planet leaders were on you.

“I have a feeling you will anyway.” He shook his head, quickly coming up the stairs to your side. He sighs, and you shrug at him. “What? He wasn’t my type, okay? If I’m going to sleep with the man, I should at least–”

“Your Majesty, this is the fourteenth potential match you have rejected. We are a coveted planet, but if you do not choose someone, we run the risk of having no options at all.” He says, looking down his nose at where you are strung lazily across your throne. He was still harbouring some of that anger from earlier, where you had refused to change into the giant mess of a gown the styling team had chosen for you. If the colour wasn’t enough– a pale puke green measurable to the blood of a Trandoshaan– the fabric was so expansive you would have drowned in it. You loved a pretty dress, but at least one that didn’t eat you whole.

“Would that be so bad?” You dropped your head back, and he shook his head, sighing again.

“Yes— it would mean instability. We would be a target for neighbouring planets. We are strong, but not strong enough to be alone. The New Republic has already thinned their guards to a ghost number compared to four years ago. We cannot wait any longer. We are… vulnerable, without a strong army.”

“We can make allies without forcing me to marry one of them.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. We would never force you to do anything.” He says those words, but every syllable is laced with warning. You may be the last living member of your blood line, but no matter how important, and no matter how beloved by your people you are, there were some things that you couldn’t control.

The worst part was he was right. Sure, you could solidify alliances, but a marriage was a lock and key. If you picked the right one, your people would be safe for years to come, long after you were successful. After what you had seen of the Empire, what they had done here, and all over the galaxy, your people deserved safety. Freedom— whatever the cost.

Your love for your people would get you through this. In them, you saw your parents legacy, and the passion to build something greater than yourself. You would never trade this life for anything... but it didn’t mean you couldn’t have preferences. Just as you were going to justify why you rejected the man now sneering at you from the corner of the room, the doors burst open, and your attention is diverted to the messenger rushing in with a strange look on his face.

“Your Majesty, we’ve just received another request.” He calls, breathless. “I’m sorry to interrupt. It’s… I am not sure how to say this.”

The man is clearly nervous— avoiding your eye and instead staring at his feet. You rise off the throne and move to him, attempting a comforting smile and nodding at him.

“It’s alright. Start at the beginning.”

“This request… It is unusual.” He swallows, and you laugh lightly.

“What is it this time? Don’t tell me the Hutts have thrown themselves into the mix.” You had nothing against them right now, but they were so… slimy. “Whoever it is, as long as they send a message in peace, they will be well received.”

“Well, that is the thing. They do not ask Your Majesty to receive them. They…”

“They don’t want to come here?” Already, you are breathing a sigh of relief. Anything to stop the constant parade of men flapping their money and stupid hair around.

“No, they ask that… they ask that you come to them.” He finishes, and your advisors are next to him in an instant, all attempting to speak over one another. You raise your eyebrows, surprised, but intrigued.

“That is an insult!” The man who challenged you before, known to you as Advisor Corell, spits at the messenger. “Her Majesty only receives guests— she does not travel unless there is cause.”

“Did they say anything else?” You ask, and the room goes quiet again as you step forward. The messenger looks uncomfortable, knowing there are still foreign diplomats in the room. “Everyone else, please go. You’ll be... informed of my decision later.”

The entire room exits quickly at the sound of your voice, all mumbling to themselves, probably still hurt over your rejection and blatant disinterest, but all you could care about was this new message.

“It’s alright. Go ahead.” You encourage. “What else did they say?”

“They asked for your hand, of course. They have a new King, and think the match would be beneficial to both sides.” A new King. Your mind buzzes, trying to think if you’d heard of any close planets going through a succession besides your own. Nothing comes to mind, but if he was new, at least this one would hopefully be closer to your age.

“A new King?” The messenger nods. “And he asked for me personally?”

“Ah... the message was not from him, Your Majesty. It was a hologram from a member of his court. A… Bo-Katan.” You had never heard the name before, but one of your advisors makes a noise of recognition and you spin to her.

“You know this name?” You ask Advisor Kaylen— probably your favourite member and the closest thing you have to a friend. She nods eagerly. “You’ve met them?”

“I have heard it before, but that would be impossible…” She fades off, and you turn back to the messenger.

“This is the most interesting person I’ve heard of since this whole thing started. What’s impossible?” You watch the messenger's face twist, so you reach out and touch his shoulder, the contact surprising him and earning a disapproving hum from Advisor Corell. “You can tell me, just ignore him. I do.”

“Well, that’s just the thing. The planet they claim to come from has been long abandoned.” Advisor Kaylen was still muttering to herself, but you couldn’t focus on her anymore when the messenger finally spoke again. “They say they are calling from Mandalore, and that their new King has asked for you to be his Queen.”

“Stop asking me about that.” Din growled, stopping his swift movement through the makeshift repair station he’d been pulling together. “I’m not interested.”

“This isn’t just about you anymore.” The longer he spent with these Mandalorians, the more the thought of taking off with their precious Dark-Saber and leaving seemed appealing. “An alliance like this is exactly what we need. With all the repairs, we’ve run low in funds. We need resources— we need to outsource, and this is the fastest way to do it. She’s all but waving a flag for us.”

He never thought there would be a time when bounty hunting was the normalcy he craved— but standing surrounded by relics of his people long passed, discussing a potential marriage—he started to miss the reliable frame of the Razor Crest a little too much.

“Mandalore was built on the backs of our people. We can do it again, the same way.” Bo-Katan sighs, giving him a glare after removing her helmet. “Would you do this? Was this a part of your plan to re-take Mandalore?”

“They didn’t have a dwindling empire and economic crisis to deal with. If you do this, we can rebuild the way our ancestors wanted us to live. How we used to live. Welcome our family home. Isn’t that what you want?” He spins, taking two slow steps to face Bo-Katan, who stands with her helmet tucked under her arm. “To answer your question— yes. I would have. I was royalty once, and I know what this is like. And I would still do it. You might even make a friend in her, Din.”

“You aren’t suggesting friends.” To her credit, she doesn’t back down, just raises her eyebrows at him. “You are asking me to get married. You know what that means.”

“It’s not like that. Rulers marry for all kinds of reasons— and if she’s looking, it means she wants to take full advantage of this. It’s the smart thing to do. Her planet is powerful, but vulnerable. Their army numbers are small after the Empire’s attacks, and she needs what we can offer now the Rebellion is squaring off. Good, strong fighters. Besides, I’m sure you aren’t exactly all she hoped for, either. I wouldn’t be surprised if you hardly see her after the first few months.” Rolling her eyes, she turns back to the pile of spare parts they had dragged in from outside. “We’ve already sent a hologram inviting her here. If she accepts, you can discuss a potential alliance like adults. If you are still opposed, we’ll cancel it and try it your way. Until then, we have work to do.”

“Send another message. Say I’m no longer interested.” Din stands impossibly still, waiting for Bo-Katan to agree and leave before he lets out a long breath. Clearly, he’d misjudged how set on this idea she was.

“Just think about it, okay?” She turns and disappears from view, and he feels like he’s going to collapse under the pressure. Things were complicated enough— in the last month, he’d learnt his way of life was not the only way at all, inherited a saber he had little idea how to use, and dropped everything he knew to come back home— to Mandalore. To say he had enough on his plate was an understatement.

Truthfully, he had come back with one thing on his mind. The Way declared one could only truly be forgiven for their misdeeds in the living waters beneath the mines of Mandalore— and Din had a lot to be forgiven for. If there was anywhere he could start fresh, it was here, but before he could do that, he had to find the mines, currently buried under years worth of rubble and debris. The last thing he needed was to disgrace himself in yet another way— which is exactly what Bo-Katan and the other Mandalorian’s were suggesting.

He was not ready for this. Not in any way. He was not a ruler— not a born and bred leader, like Bo-Katan, and he’d never wanted to be. It might have made sense to an outsider, maybe. A new, untested ruler of a planet as economic as yours was bound to attract unwanted attention, and about the only thing Mandalore could offer right now was its ability to fight. It was the only thing it was known for.

He didn’t want to marry, though. Not for a political alliance. He didn’t think about it at all— not right now. He’d heard a few things about you by now— how your parents had passed suddenly, and how you were now being squashed into the same situation as he was, forced to play a role which you had no choice in being cast to. He felt as sorry for you as he did for himself, and he found his thoughts drifting to the Child.

Din looked around, exhausted at just the thought of getting this place into any form of working order. Spare parts to old ships scattered on the floor, and the room was painted in a light purple hue thanks to the reflection of the glass roof overhead. He stood, leaving the mess of a garage and walking back out towards the largest building in this city.

There were streets lined with cracked stone, several Mandalorians dragging and pulling equipment to replace the broken ones. They had been working hard— everyone had, including him, and the place was looking less and less like a war zone by the second. The sight made him feel easier. At least his home wouldn’t be rubble forever. Buildings were gaining foundations, others entirely rebuilt by hand. It had only been a month or two, and already this place was looking like he’d been told in the stories. Like home.

As he walked through them, he didn’t miss the stares of those who’d left their helmets behind, but at least that was familiar. Everyone stared, on every planet he went to, and even with the oddly shaped buildings, some spiralling high, others flat and long enough to park a few speeders in the front, he felt settled here. The cities were huge and spanned far into the horizon, too long to walk everywhere, so the Mandalorians had gone straight to work on the speeder parts, using them to zip around not only around this central city, but between other parts of the planet.

Finally, he began the walk up the steps of the castle. It was giant— bulky and boxed, rooms stacked on top of each other with seemingly no purpose. It was the most well conserved building on the planets surface, and it was what constituted as a home for Din. For now, at least. Either way, it was the safest place to keep Grogu during the day, and he would go wherever it was safest for him.

He could hear him before he saw him, loud chirps and gurgles coming from the throne room. One, giant looking chair was elevated by a few steps at the end of the room, and he saw a flip of green zip over Sasha’s unmasked head.

“Get down here, you gremlin.” She barked, but laughed at Grogu’s slightly worried face when he spun to a stop in mid air. It was then he finally noticed him, dropping to the ground and wandering over. “He’s been a little pain in my—“

“Patu!” Grogu chirps, and Din laughs roughly, bending down to pick him up. He holds him in front of his helmet, watching as his tiny hands reach out to grab his gloved wrists.

“Have you been causing trouble, Grogu?” He makes a little gurgle sound, like he always does when Din says his name, and he smiles under the helmet.

“Bo-Katan was looking for you.” Sasha says, putting her helmet back on. Most Mandalorian’s that lived around the capital did that when they spoke to him, now, even ones as high ranking as Sasha. Din doesn’t look up from Grogu’s giant eyes.

“She found me. And my answer is still no.” He hears her laugh, but when he looks up at her, she stops.

“She didn’t tell you?” Din turns to face her, letting the kid fiddle with something on his armour.

“Tell me what?” Unlike Bo-Katan, Sasha is a little afraid of him. Everyone is, especially since they had seen him fight with the DarkSaber when they first arrived on the planet. Since then, there had been a quiet fear, a commanding presence Din didn’t think he had earnt, but regardless it was there. She swallowed, tilting her helmet down to the floor. “Tell me.”

“The Queen replied. She accepted your invitation, and is expected to arrive within the week. She also implied, if the meeting goes well— she…”

“She what? What did she say?” Din had no idea why, but his heart was racing a mile a minute. Had she been insulted by the offer? Was she going to stage an attack?

“She said she would marry you.”

“You said I would what?” You shout at the group of advisors, all of whom look like they are about to scramble and run. And they should. “Who’s bright idea was it to send correspondence, with my name attached, without my go-ahead?! What the hell kind of advisor does that?!”

None of them so much as moved, except for Advisor Kaylen, who caught your eye, making a pointed look at Advisor Corell. You shook your head, and a bitter smile curled the ends of your mouth.

“I should have known. Corell. Get up.” He spluttered, stumbling to his feet as you dragged him up the dais, and forced him to his knees. “Was it you? Did you tell Mandalore I would accept their invitation?!”

He shakes his head. “I only said you would meet with them! Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“When I was ready!” You want to scream, but your embarrassment and nerves choke your throat. Yes, you were going to accept. Probably. Maybe a month from now... a few months, if you could stretch it. Not this week.

“This is a good thing! Now you get to go! To— to see the cursed land for yourself. To look upon its new ruler! I was only doing what I thought was best! They would have been insulted if we had rejected…and we’re running out of options.”

“The only one insulted here is me, that you truly believe I would buy any of the shit that comes out of your mouth.” He was on thin ice as it was, but your fathers words played in your head, and you saw the faces of your other Advisors in the corner of your eye.

Your father had selected this team of people because he trusted them, and for some reason, you did too. You didn’t know why, or how they were picked, but they were supposed to be the six people you could rely on. The six people who would challenge you, who wouldn’t blindly accept your decision like the rest of the planet. They were a tradition— to ensure the sanity of a ruler and the safety of a planet. You trusted them; or you would, eventually, but they would not overstep. Or at least, they shouldn’t.

“My father trusted you. It is that reason alone that I will let you continue to work underneath me, and forgive this lapse in judgment. But this is the one chance you will receive. I might not be my father, but you work for me now. If you choose to disobey me or do anything without me specifically telling you again, I will send you to Mandalore in my stead, and the King can have you in my place. We will see how far you make it in the ruins before he cuts you down.” They all scurry from the room, Advisor Corell not glancing back as he heads for the door after you drop him.

All that is left is Kaylen, who doesn’t need a title when it’s just you and her. She was a friend— perhaps your only one, so you only used her title around the other Advisors.

“That was exciting.” She says, and you flop down onto the cushioned throne, golden pillows softening the blow as she comes to lean on the armrest. “It’s been too long since we had some real palace gossip.”

“Well, hold on to that, because you might be shipping me off to marry a fish. He’s like a ghost— I couldn’t find anything on the King, and now I’m supposed to just…go?” You sigh, swinging your feet over the edge of the chair and letting your head fall into her lap. “This is insanity. This entire month has been suitor after suitor, none of them with armies strong enough to keep our planet safe. And now it’s like I don’t even have a... it all just happened so fast.”

“I know. You were right to reject them all. But this one is... it’s different.” You sit up, turning to face her.

“You think I should go?”

“Are you asking me as an Advisor, or as a friend?”

“Both.” The throne is huge, made for the large frame of your father, so she can slide right in next to you.

“Well, as your Advisor, Mandalore is famous for one thing— war. Sure, they have lost a tonne, but when they were at their peak, they were unstoppable. Feared throughout the galaxy. With our help, they could be that again. Even having the name attached to us would scare off any potential threats for a while. They are good fighters, they could teach our people ways we would never learn ourselves, and one day we could even be allies. Especially if this goes well.” She sits up when she speaks, and even though she’s only a few years older than you, she seems light years ahead. You understand why your father chose her.

“And as my friend?” She swings an arm over your shoulder.

“As your friend, I think you need this. I think that you haven’t changed a single thing about the palace since you have been crowned because you know once you do, this is real and your parents are gone. I think you know this is the right thing to do, but you’re scared, and you think that when you do this, you’ll finally be alone, and you hate that.” You’re thankful she’s not looking at you because you almost start crying as soon as she mentions your parents. “I think you know that this is different. That this could be a defining moment for you. For your reign. For the planet to come back after the Empire.”

“Why do you have to be right about everything?” You say tightly, and she helps you stand off the throne, leading you towards your bedroom through the maze of winding corridors.

“Just lucky. And, hey, don’t look so sad. Rumor has it he wears a very pretty beskar suit. All shiny and silver. You love shiny stuff.” She gestures at the hallways, all lined with golden and silver detailing. You nudge her on the shoulder and she laughs, peeling off before you open the door to your bedroom.

It was technically your parents room— the room you grew up in now vacated for your future offspring. You didn’t mind, using the room helped you feel a little bit closer to your parents. You remember all the times you’d climbed into bed with them, buried under the covers because you were afraid of the dark.

Kaylen was right. Corell was right, even if he was an asshole. It was selfish to not accept an offer. You hated that you couldn’t do more for your people, that all you had to offer was your arm, but if that was what you needed to do right now, you should just... suck it up. A Mandalorian, though. That was different. You knew they were feared, although scattered throughout the galaxy, and if their words were true, an entire planet of them would make you virtually impenetrable.

You couldn’t help but think about the King. Mandalorians were a confusing bunch, the few you had met, anyways. Very quiet, lethal as anything, and in your experience, solitary. Your mother had hired one years ago to collect a bounty for her, and he completed the four day job in three hours, arriving and leaving on his own, hardly talking if he didn’t have to. Why would someone like that want to be married?

Shrinking out of your outfit, you decided to try and get some sleep. If tomorrow was going to be anything like today, you’d need all the rest you could get, and for some reason, there was a racing in your heart you couldn’t settle. Maybe just nerves from the incoming visit to Mandalore tomorrow.

That had to be it. The myths, legends surrounding the cursed world— it would make anyone nervous. But it was just that. Nerves. It couldn’t be anything else.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian smut #mando #mando x you #mando x reader #mando x y/n #din djarin x y/n #din djaren x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin #star wars #star wars fic #pedro pascal

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pascallatte · 2 years ago

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Mando's Lover?

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Actress!reader

Summary: The Mandalorian interview but why are you included? (read to find out 😉)

Date: August 2019

Taglist: @benonlinear, @t-stark35, @heyitsme-2, @elleeeee21, @holmesstrange, @tagakalat, @flyestvenustrap, @oldermenaremyreligion, @cherryred444, @avengersheart, @guacala, @pukka-latte, @hobiismyhopeu, @lilvampirina, @ilovehotdadsandshit

A/N: AAAAA we're almost entering my favourite part of the series, but, I might post some throwbacks before we head to that though so stay tuned and like always, enjoy!! also kind of a late post but you know. hehe

Series Masterlist

The pair are seen on the red carpet during this year’s D23 Expo on The Mandalorian, which was to be released three months from now.

“Ok I'm gonna recreate your reaction to-being-casted celebration,” the interviewer, Ash, said as she shook hands with Pedro. She recreated his celebratory reaction making Pedro watch as she continued.

“That’s right. It was- it was a three-act event react play. Yeah, it was like “Oh thank you thank you”.. pass out,” He said also reenacting with an exaggerated crying look on his face, clearly having fun at what was happening.

She brings the mic closer to her to ask him her second question, “But can you walk me through actually finding out you were cast as The Mandalorian.” Pedro who was once looking at her intently, turned to look downwards remembering how that day went.

“Well I got a call and the actual words were “Jon Favreau wants to talk to you about something Star Wars” and so I said absolutely and I went out to meet him at his offices in Playa Vista and he invited me into a room where he introduced me to Dave Filoni and in this room, it was wall-to-wall, immaculate illustrations of this series which is everything Star Wars-”

He continues to share his precious moments before the final revelation, “-And so being a Star Wars fan myself I was like, “oh what’s this” and “oh I remember that” and “what are you gonna do here” and “what do you want me to do?”” Pedro rambles on about asking them what creature, robot, or whatever role they wanted him to audition for before taking a deep breath.

“-and they looked confused and basically pointed to the- this incredible like silhouette of The Mandalorian. He said you’re the, you’re The Mandalorian. So yeah that’s why I- that’s why I sort of died inside of joy.”

Nodding at his response Ash looks at him,” Who was the first person you ever told when you got the job? Since the role became like a very important one for you.”

Scratching the back of his neck, “Well, y/n was picking me up from Jon’s place, so naturally, I told her fir-actually, I freaked out on her. I kept blabbering on things I can’t even remember you know, it must be the adrenaline I felt at that moment. And then- just then did I call my sister, who is a big Star Wars fan, saying how I’m a part of the huge franchise that she loves and now we’ve done and are about to release the first season, it makes me really happy.” Ending his response with a content smile.

“How could you not? I mean, you mentioned you were a Star Wars fan, so what’s your earliest Star Wars memory? Do you remember like-“ Ash inquired once again, wanting to know more about him and his experience as an interviewer.

Pedro enthusiastically blurted out,” I saw Star Wars- I saw episode four in the movie theatre. I was very young so I don’t remember the experience of being in the theatre for it as well as I do the empire strikes back which is burned into my childhood imagination and I remember like three attempts to get tickets for return of the Jedi and getting my heart broken every time because it was sold out, and then finally getting the tickets and literally you know like staring at the poster being like I’m finally seeing this movie so it was highly present in my childhood. All the toys you know and all the stories yeah.”

“And now you’re in it,” Ash said, seemingly into his history with Star Wars.

Agreeing with her, “And now I’m in it. it’s weird, leading the series”

“Now, back to being an avid Star Wars watcher. What was your reaction when you were first introduced to your now-girlfriend, Y/n L/n, who played the character Sabe in the phantom menace?"

Pedro looks at her with a look that he knows what she was up to and decides to keep it short, "Yeah well like I knew it was her when we first met but I didn’t like barging into her space telling her that I’ve watched her in Star Wars and loved it because that would be weird coming from this guy you’ve never met before. But now, I can say that we’re now also together in another galaxy."

"Did you ever think you would ever meet her in person or like be with her all those years ago?"

Crossing his arms, thinking for a moment, "I didn’t really well- but to start it off I didn’t even think I would be able to meet her in any way, since she was like in the spotlight already at such a young age so I didn’t really think about it. That was until we got introduced that is and it was one of the best moments in my life," finishing it off with a shy smile.

“That’s sweet, do you think we’ll ever see Y/n as part of your series, The Mandalorian?”

“Good question but we haven’t thought about it really. But with the number of times she’s been on set they should’ve made a character just for her don’t you think?” Pedro said laughing. “Last question, what role from The Mandalorian would you think y/n would fit in if she were to be cast?” she quickly stated as their time's almost up.

Pedro gave her a teasing knowing look, “Ummm Mando’s lover, no I'm joking. But maybe someone in the ranks, probably not a Mandalorian cause she'll look-" he makes a tiny sign from his hands, laughing at himself, "-wearing the armour. Maybe a Jedi, we don’t know really, she can play herself actually. She’ll take whatever they give her.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x actress!reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x female reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian s3

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xxx-silhouette-xxx · 2 years ago

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Am I the only one disappointed with season 3 of The Mandalorian?

Contains SPOILERS - so skip if you don’t wanna know

Tonight was, painful.

I’ve REALLY been trying to hang on with an open mind but after tonight, there’s no going back.

And I’ve got some things to get off my chest.

Din Djarin has had NO character development from the sacrifice he made for Grogu’s life. This has been inarguably, the biggest disappointment for me. I was hoping for a season of exploration of a man’s moral compass and worldview being hauled upside down, a young boy who’d been orphaned, traumatised and taken in by a cult that raised him with titanium religious beliefs. Who grew into a hardened bounty hunter but gave up everything he knew for the sake of a lost child. Became shunned for protecting said child and despite doing what he felt was right, strived to seek redemption and forgiveness. There was so much potential for Din as a character in terms of growth and development, all of which was swept under a rug within the first two episodes. He has instead become apart of Disney’s formula of “the boss ladies side bitch” with nothing to add to the scene but his catchphrase “this is the way”. That and the sudden revival of his hate for droids even though he had been working on that issue in past seasons.

Grogu is more or less the commodity Disney grew cash dollar signs in their eyes over for the sake of product marketing and just have him doing cutesy shit for the sake of being cutesy.

And then there’s Bo Katan.

Now disclaimer - I’m not the type that hates an actual person for a character they play. Yes, I’ve never liked Bo Katan (that much I’ve made clear in recent posts) but I also think that Katee Sackhoff does a brilliant job playing a character as such. And to see her come to life in season 2 was incredible and to me, Bo Katan from season two is the REAL Bo Katan.

Because I’m sure as hell disappointed with what they’ve done to her character in season 3. Bo Katan was a terrorist who broke away from Mandalore unable to accept a new direction in leadership from her own sister. She massacred and terrorised innocent people, she plotted towards the death of her sister, splintered off from her terrorist group after the throne of Mandalore was taken by Maul and continued to fight against his loyalists and later the empire itself.

And we all saw the look of death on her face when Gideon pointed out that the dark Sabre belonged to Din

This isn’t someone I was rooting for but this was someone who didn’t know when to give up and would go to any means possible to get what they wanted. This is the same woman who made an oath in the throne room of Mandalore, saying that an outsider would never rule the people. The odds were against her in many ways yet she still fought like hell…. Where is that woman? And who replaced her with Disney’s first emo teen princess whose suddenly forgotten her xenophobic upbringing?

And as for Lizzo and Jack Black’s appearances in episode six?

My partner said it best when he commented that they turn the whole show into a parody of itself.

Personally, I found Christopher Loyd’s character as flat as cardboard and an absolutely pointless goose chase used to build up momentum all to throw away the opportunity for a twist ending.

It really breaks my heart to see the series diminish into what it has. The whole reason people fell in love with the show was due to Din and Grogu’s father son dynamic and that’s all been thrown to the side in favour of other characters, setting up for the future of other shows and tying off the ends to the sequels.

Season three completely lacks the drive and purpose of the previous seasons.

It should and could have been so much more than what it is.

And Din Djarin deserved more depth in his story then to be abandoned to the side lines.

#the mandalorian #mandalorian season 3 #din djarin #pedro pascal #star wars #mando #mando spoilers #mando fanfiction #katee sackhoff

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anonymousewrites · 1 year ago

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Clan of Three Christmas Special 2023

Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader

Mouse Note: Happy holidays! I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season and like this little moment for Mando and Ginger and Grogu

“What are gifts traditional for apprentices?” asked Mando.

The Armorer turned from the Forge to face him. “Why do you ask?”

“It is the anniversary of when I found Grogu and (Y/N). I want to commemorate it,” said Mando simply.

The Armorer nodded approvingly. “You have a strong bond with your Clan. That is good.” She placed her hammer down and fully focused on Mando. “So, you wish for gifts.”

“Yes,” said Mando. “I’ve given Grogu chainmail to protect him, and (Y/N) has their remade Ushti dagger. I have not had a Clan of my own or apprentices before, so I don’t know what I should give them next.”

The Armorer considered carefully. “Grogu is still quite young for more armor. Perhaps a game for him.”

Mando nodded. “He would enjoy that.” He paused. “Grogu, uh, likes the silver topper of one of the levers from my old ship. It’s a simple sphere, but he’d like that.”

The Armorer nodded. “Very well. And for (Y/N)?”

“They have a blaster and dagger, and I don’t feel comfortable arming them more,” said Mando.

“Their tendency to run into danger worries you,” said the Armorer in amusement.

Mando sighed. “Yes.”

“Then how about something to protect them?” suggested the Armorer. “A piece of armor would guard against some injuries.” She looked at the Mythosaur emblem on the wall. It reminded her that Mandalore the Great had chosen (Y/N) to guide. That was significant. “And it is time for them to start obtaining armor. They have more than earned their first piece.”

Mando brightened but kept calm. “Yes. That would be good. I’d enjoy the honor of giving (Y/N) their first bit of Mandalorian armor.”

The Armorer turned back to her tools. “What piece shall I craft?”

“A gauntlet for their wrist or forearm,” said Mando. “To protect their dominant arm while they fight.”

The Armorer nodded in approval. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” said Mando.

“You’re supposed to throw it back to me, Grogu,” said (Y/N), hands on their hips as they looked at their brother.

Grogu babbled happily, still levitating the stone in front of him. (Y/N) rolled their eyes, lifted a hand, and pulled the stone to them. Grogu squawked indignantly.

“Relax, I’m going to toss it right back,” said (Y/N), flicking their ring and letting the rock float back to Grogu, who smiled widely upon getting to levitate it again. (Y/N) grinned but rolled their eyes. “I need practice, too.”

“You’re supposed to be resting after our last mission,” said Mando, walking up behind them and crossing his arms.

Grogu let the rock drop, and (Y/N) turned around without any embarrassment or guilt.

They shrugged. “I feel fine.”

“The last time you said that, you slept for an entire day when I finally got you to rest,” said Mando.

“That was one time, Buir,” said (Y/N).

“Ad’ika, we both know it was more than that,” said Mando.

“Okay, fine, maybe it was,” said (Y/N). “Sorry.”

“You’re not, but I’m going to accept your apology because I’m going to make you rest,” said Mando.

“Whatever you say,” said (Y/N). They noticed the little parcels he was carrying. “What’re those?”

Mando suddenly shifted, getting shyer. He still wasn’t used to being so soft, even if it was with his kids. And he wanted to do this right since it was an important moment.

“They’re gifts. For you and Grogu,” said Mando. “It’s the day that I found you two first.”

Grogu and (Y/N) were both silent.

“Is this alright?” asked Mando.

“You actually…You remember those things?” said (Y/N).

“Of course. You’re the most important parts of my life,” said Mando.

(Y/N) moved forward and hugged him tightly, and Grogu chirped and jumped up to hug him. Mando was surprised and balanced the presents before hugging them back.

“Thank you,” said (Y/N), and Grogu babbled in agreement.

“You haven’t even seen what I got you,” said Mando.

“Yeah, but you care about that. What you got us doesn’t matter,” said (Y/N).

Mando smiled beneath his helmet. “Thank you, Ad’ika.”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I don’t still want the gift, though.”

“I know,” said Mando with a light laugh. He held up the presents. “This one is yours, and this one is Grogu’s.”

Before Mando could even hand them over, the parcels levitated and flew to their recipients as the force moved for them. Grogu eagerly opened his first and babbled with a grin as he held up the silver ball.

(Y/N) smiled. “He’ll be levitating and throwing that around the whole ship.”

Mando sighed. “I know, but it makes him happy.”

(Y/N) opened theirs then, and their eyes widened as they lifted up the beskar gauntlet. “Is this Mandalorian armor?”

“You’re a Mandalorian,” said Mando simply. “And you’ve risked your life for us so many times that you have earned it, Ad’ika.”

(Y/N) grinned, closed the gauntlet around their forearm, and hugged Mando again. “Thank you so much, Buir.” They were a Mandalorian. More than that though, they were Mando’s child. And that’s what meant the most.

“Of course, Ad’ika,” said Mando, holding them close. He had his kids. That was all he needed.

Taglist:

@im-making-an-effort

@gr33n-d00dles

@alexpangender

@painstakingly-juno

@treehouse-mouse

@theurbannoodle

@pedropascalsidechick

@dmitrytherat

@dilfsaremyfavourite

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judysxnd · 2 years ago

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I AM IN LOVE WITH YOUR WRITINGS ❤

Can I request a pedro × reader?

It's few months into the relationship and pedro , being a bad sleeper , one day woke up from a terrible nightmare . The reader is up so she calms him down and pedro hugs her and tell her ( I love you ) for the first time .

Thank you so so much❤️ it means SO much🥰 love the request, it’s going to be so intimate!! Hope you’ll like it!!

——————————————————————————————

Today has been a long day for Pedro. Waking up at 6am, driving an hour and half for the interviews to promote the last season of the Mandalorian, having lunch at almost 2pm, going to the gym after, and then an appointment with his agent. It was a pretty busy day. As for you, it was a normal work day.

He finally came back around 7:30. You were waiting for him in the living room, scrolling on social media. When you heard the door opening, you stopped what you were doing and went to see him.

“Hey baby” you said shyly, smiling

“Hi angel” his face lit up when he saw you. His movements were slow, kicking his shoes off and putting his stuff away. As he was very happy to finally be home and see you, he was extremely tired. It hit him as soon as he opened the door.

“You look tired” you said, going to hug him. His entire body relaxed as you wrapped your arms around him.

“I’m more than tired” he sighed, holding you tight.

“Yeah I bet you are. Are you also hungry? I was waiting for you”

“A little yeah”

“Uber?”

“Hell yeah. Too tired to cook anything”

“Okay. I’ll order, go take a shower, okay?” You slightly parted, looking at each other.

“You’re too good for me mama” he leaned down to kiss you.

So Pedro went to take his shower. He food arrived right after he joined you in the kitchen. You quietly enjoyed your food and went to bed right away, watching a movie. As you expected, five minutes into the movie and Pedro was dead asleep. You kept watching the movie, it was very interesting.

Trapped in a house. All exists are absolutely no use. The front door? Three steel bear traps. The two French windows in the back? Electric wires in front of them. The windows? Barriers blocking them. The only possible exit are the skylights, but the roof is too high, and it’s not discreet enough to escape the monster. Because yes, there is a monster chasing the man. Nonstop running, going from one hiding spot to another. Sweating, out of breath, unable to run properly, nothing to defend himself. The man goes in a roof, but the monster sees him, so he goes back inside. It’s too dangerous to jump. But there’s something missing. He wasn’t alone. He knows that his girlfriend is missing. He also feels that he is alone, no family anymore. Like they were all gone, they were not existing anymore. The pics on the wall show no face except for the man. He still remembers everything, but- but the pictures? He is alone. Faces erased. What is happening? Oh no, the monster is close. He can hear his heavy breathing. Will he see him in the closet? Oh- yes he did. He swung the door opened. The monster growls, and is about to throw his hands on the man.

Suddenly Pedro wakes up screaming, heavily breathing. It scared you. You sat up next to him, caressing his back, holding his hand

“Wh-What happened?” Pedro asks, still shocked.

“It was a nightmare Pedrito, it’s okay, it’s not real”

“It-It” he paused a second, catching his breath “it felt so real” he put his hands on his face.

“It was not”

“Everyone was-” he couldn’t even say it

“It’s okay, look at me” you put your hand in his cheek, turning his head so that he would look at you. “Look at me, you feel this?” You said touching his hand, his arm, his face. “I’m real, it’s real” you said, making him look around you. He looked at you, not saying anything. You could see his chest moving a lot has he was still out of breath. He suddenly hugged you. “See? I’m real” you added again, hands on his back.

“It was awful, I can’t even describe it”

“Then don’t. Just know that it’s not real. I’m here. I’m real, you’re real.”

“I love you so much” you heard him say. You were surprised, for sure you didn’t expect it. It was the first time either of you said it. Being only together for a few months, it is expectable. You felt butterfly in your stomach. There he was, in pure shock, and saying I love you. It was the purest moment. You let go of him, staring at him, your hands on his cheeks.

“I love you too” you kissed for some time. “Come on, let’s go back to sleep” you turned the tv off. You started to lay down on your side, but Pedro grabbed you.

“Can’t sleep without feeling you corazón, you’re the one keeping me sane” you turned to face him

“I’m not going anywhere.. cariño” he smiled. You hold his hand. “It was just a nightmare. This- This is real” you snuggled right to him, and both fell asleep.

#pedro pascal #cute #fanfic #imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #gif #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal preferences #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x female reader #oneshot

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howaboutcastiel · 2 years ago

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And Also With You

Apostate! Din Djarin x Ex-Jedi! Reader (afab)

(After season 2, canon divergence from bobf and season 3)

Word Count: 7.4k

Content: plot with porn? Or porn with plot, not sure which one is more accurate. Reader has a vagina, gender-neutral language otherwise. I know that I’m probably not using the force the totally correct way but reality can be whatever I want. Force-touching? Lots of sensual touching and foreplay, fingering, talking Din through sex (he’s somewhat inexperienced), PiV, Creampie? Idk kinda. This is so, so slow-burn while also being everything in one night.

Din couldn’t remember a time when his life had been so directionless. He was teetering on the edge of two lives, both dreadfully out of reach. He knew that he couldn’t face his fellow mandalorians again, couldn’t stand before The Armorer and her followers. Maybe nobody would tell her that he’d removed his helmet. Maybe the only people who’d seen his face were dead, or on the other side of the galaxy with no intent of ever seeing him again. Maybe nobody knew of his sacrilege, of his betrayal of the Creed.

But he knew.

Din knew what he’d done—what he’d become—and it was eating away at him.

You, on the other hand, had come to terms with what you were. You’d gotten past the phase of being unbearably ashamed and angry at yourself. Now, you were mad at something else. The institution that cast you out—that wouldn’t accept you the way that you were. At just 14 years old, the Jedi had abandoned you as unteachable, as unable to forgo attachments and live the life of a Padawan, let alone a Jedi. In a fit of rage, you had run away from your master, cursing the Jedi and everything they stood for. That had been years ago, though. You weren’t fourteen years old anymore.

A few months after you left, any chance of returning to the Jedi Order was lost. Order 66 destroyed everything and everyone that you had known, and after that, you were on the run from imperials as they sought to rid the galaxy of anyone force-sensitive that wasn’t on their side.

So you had found a place to hide in the outer rim. You went on with your life, continuing your training alone and in secret while you managed to build connections to people in your village. Sorgan was a quiet, beautiful planet with wonderful people. The work was honest, the food was abundant, and life was comfortable. Peaceful.

That is, until a certain Mandalorian found himself back on the planet with nowhere to go.

You had heard of him once before, a year or so ago when he helped save a village on the other side of the planet. You hadn’t thought twice about it, truthfully, but you feared now that his arrival would bring imperials to Sorgan, just as it brought bounty hunters before.

You certainly weren’t very cheerful when he approached your stand at the market.

“How much for a basket?” He inquired. To be fair, he didn’t sound any more cheery than you. Still, you hadn’t expected his voice to sound so… nice. The mandalorian gestured vaguely at a basket of fruit, which you sold alongside jams, jellies, and syrups. Other than krill and spotchka, there wasn’t much else on Sorgan in the way of food.

“Three credits,” you responded flatly. “But they’re two for five.”

He sighed, thinking it over. “I’ll take two, then.”

The mandalorian fished some credits out of his pocket, placing them delicately on the table across from you. As he leaned closer, something struck you—a feeling you couldn’t quite comprehend at first. It wasn’t just a feeling, it was something more. Something only a person trained in the force might pick up on. Your mouth was moving before you could think about what to say.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

He paused, raising his helmet to look up at you. You felt heat spread across your face as the mandalorian stared at you. He straightened his back, grabbing the two baskets of food and methodically placing one in each hand. Without a word, he turned to walk away from you. About ten paces away, though, he glanced back again, making you blush even deeper.

Your stomach dropped. It wasn’t that you were afraid of the mandalorian ratting you out. He didn’t seem like the type to meddle in others’ business—he certainly wasn’t going to alert the empire of a force-sensitive fruit farmer on Sorgan. Somehow, though, you felt that you’d done something wrong. You’d overstepped your bounds, for sure, but he didn’t seem offended by your comment. The best explanation you could muster, as he walked away and your connection to him faded, was that you had seen something he didn’t want you to see. His pain? His loss?

There were other things you saw, too. Other things you felt from him. But you certainly wouldn’t bring those up to him, and now, you’d probably never get the chance anyway. Even if the elusive mandalorian happened to stick around—which you doubted, knowing he was a bounty hunter—you were sure he would be avoiding your stand at the produce market from now on.

That wouldn’t stop you from thinking about him.

Sure enough, the next time that the mandalorian showed up at the market, he avoided your shop at all costs. You took the opportunity to get a good look at him, though. It was shameless, but you couldn’t deny the deep connection you felt with him in that moment before. Maybe the force was trying to tell you something? Or maybe he was the first new face you’d seen in a while and you were simply excited by the change.

You couldn’t deny that you liked what you saw. He was broad, even under the bulky armor, and on the taller side. His body moved elegantly with the beskar as if it was simply an extension of himself. You got the feeling that he had been wearing it for a long time, used to the feeling of the metal encasing him. His helmet hid his face, but his body language was almost expressive enough to make up for that fact. If there wasn’t metal covering his skin, it was the clothes underneath. He was entirely covered from head to toe.

And… you had been ogling him for a few minutes now. He’d noticed. Shame burned across your face as he made his way over to you, agitation in his step. You were half-prepared for him to threaten you, or otherwise lecture you on your unwanted attention. He did neither, and his voice was nearly a whisper as he leaned across your table once again.

“How did you know?”

You blinked at him. “What do you mean?”

He only stared back. There was that feeling again, and the longer he stood there, inches from your face, the stronger it felt. You had to restrain yourself from reaching out and touching him. It was as if you could feel his soul resonating from his chest. As if it was calling out to you, beckoning you in. Your whole body was on fire.

“What you said before,” he interrupted your thoughts. He seemed just as flustered as you, despite the dominance in his stance. “About how I’ve lost… something. How did you know that?”

You shook your head. You couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him, but how could you explain the truth? “I don’t know. I just…I—I felt it.”

His voice dipped even lower, barely audible through his modulator. He glanced behind him quickly, making sure no one else was tuned in to the conversation.

“Are you a Jedi?”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or to gasp with terror, but that feeling assured you that he meant you no harm. He even sounded a bit hopeful. “Not technically, no.”

“What does that mean?” The mandalorian only leaned in closer, drawn to you as much as you were to him, it seemed. You felt from him that he was directionless, that he had just ended a chapter of his life and didn’t know what to do next. You also felt the way his heart leaped at the prospect of a Jedi. He was looking for one, perhaps. He was also searching for something to fill the hole in his heart. One that ached now more than ever, as far as you could tell.

“We shouldn’t talk about this here,” you warned. You felt well-hidden from the remnants of the empire here, but you could never be too safe. “Come back when the market closes at dusk, then we’ll talk.”

He clenched his fists, nodded curtly, and stepped back from your table. His cape fluttered as he turned around, then the mandalorian was out of sight. The feeling faded again, but you managed to identify it. To use the force and focus on it. And now you were sure that the mandalorian was in need of something, of purpose, and you were sure that you were going to help him find it.

And, when he disappeared from your view, you couldn’t deny that you missed him.

How crazy it must be, you thought, for you to long for the company of a man you’d spoken to for a total of five minutes. Whom you knew nothing about—not his name, not his face, not any part of his story. All you knew was that he was hurting, and that the force was drawing you to him. Drawing you to take away the pain.

So, when he reappeared at your table after the suns had set, you didn’t hesitate to give him honesty. “I was trained by the Jedi… a long time ago. I haven’t practiced the ways of the Jedi Order since I was a kid.”

He tilted his helmet at you while he helped you close shop. “But you still wield the force?”

“Yes,” you explained. “I’ve been teaching myself, training my powers. I still use some of the teachings of my old Jedi masters, but…sometimes I’ve found that doing things my own way works better.”

He followed behind you closely as you carried your merchandise back to your lodging, insisting on helping you transport it all. When you paused your explanation, he seemed to be turning it over in his head. “Hmm.”

“What about you?” You inquired. Surely, if you were so drawn to him, he must be force-sensitive too. “As I understand it, mandalorians and Jedi don’t normally get along.”

“I know almost nothing about the force,” he admitted. You were halfway to your cabin now. “My… traveling companion wielded the force. He’s young, still in need of training, so we searched for a Jedi willing to teach him.”

That feeling again. “And did you find one?”

“We did,” he breathed, and you could tell it hurt.

“He’s the one you lost,” you guessed. His silence confirmed your assumption and, again, you found yourself talking before you could think. “I understand why that must be hard. The foregoing of all attachment was what made me question the Jedi Order all those years ago. It’s still my biggest disagreement with the whole thing.”

You sat your merchandise on the front step of your cabin as you pulled your keys from your pocket. The mandalorian waited patiently as you unlocked your door. He hummed quietly as you beckoned him inside. “Is this where you live?”

“It is. When the suns come up, I have a great view of the forest surrounding our village.”

He put the remaining boxes where you instructed him to, and before he had a chance to excuse himself and bid you a goodnight, you heard yourself ask, “would you like to stay for a cup of spotchka?”

The mandalorian fidgeted where he stood, and you felt your face heat up again. Maybe the force was telling you to reach out to this man, but you had never been so forward. Perhaps you were being too forward. You started to feel from him again, and he was conflicted. Too conflicted, you thought, for a simple invitation to have a drink.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your night. I’m sure you must be getting up early to harvest your fruit.”

You shook your head. “You wouldn’t be intruding. I’m inviting you for a reason. The company would be nice, actually.”

He sighed.

“Yes, I suppose it would.”

He stood awkwardly in the doorway while you turned on the lights in your quaint living space. The sleeping bunks were separate from the main room, but the space was still awkwardly small. You opted to give the mandalorian your couch while you sat in the matching chair across from it. You offered him a mug of spotchka, which he politely declined.

After a beat, he cleared his throat. “The way that you… felt what I was feeling. Do you do that with everyone? Can you—can you hear people’s thoughts?”

“Just you,” you blurted. Dank Ferrik, you really should’ve been thinking harder about your choice of words. You backtracked. “I can’t hear people’s thoughts. The force just allows me to feel certain things that others cannot. I’ve never had a connection through the force with a stranger before, but when you stood close to me at the market, I could feel that you were mourning.”

“That’s…” his voice trailed. His mesmerizing voice. “I don’t know how to feel about that.”

“I don’t either, if I am being honest.”

He leaned forward on the couch, leaned closer to you. He was doing that a lot today. “Is there anything else you can feel from me?”

You closed your eyes and breathed in deep. There was more you could feel, but how could you put it into words? If you could explain it, would he even want to hear it? Would he want to know that you could see so much of his soul?

Surely not.

But he spoke up again. “If you’re…feeling something you don’t like, I understand. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?” You chuckled at him, puzzled. “I think I am the one who should be saying that to you. I am certainly invading your privacy, looking into your mind with the force.”

“I want to know what you see,” he countered. His hand came up to fidget with the cape around his neck. “No one has ever…”

You didn’t need the force to finish that sentence for him. No one has ever seen my soul before. I’ve never shown it to anyone. You knew that’s what he meant, because the same was true for you.

“This companion that you have parted with, he meant a great deal to you. You love him…like family. Like a child of your own.”

His helmet dipped a little, almost imperceptible. “I don’t want to think about that right now.”

“Of course,” you nodded. You continued on with a change of subject. “I can feel that there’s more to it, though. You’re not just missing your… Grogu. Something else has been lost. Something that goes back even further than your relationship with the child. Something that leaves almost as big of a hole in your heart.”

The mandalorian stopped his fidgeting. You swore he was so still that he must have stopped breathing, too.

“But you cannot accept that you’ve lost it.”

He didn’t seem able to respond, but you felt that he wanted you to continue. You tried to focus on what the force guided you to, but you had no idea what it was. “You’re yearning for something. For some kind of purpose, some kind of connection. You’ve never had that before, but you won’t let yourself seek it out now. You’re holding onto something else. You’re terrified to let go of it.”

The mandalorian was visibly shaking now. He whispered, “I would like you to stop looking now.”

“That’s understandable,” you assured him. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

“You only did what I asked you to,” he offered. You supposed that was true. “I’m sure that you can also see… or feel… or…”

The mandalorian stumbled over his words. You didn’t know why, but you felt your body run hot again.

“You must know that I am unsure of what I’m supposed to do next.”

You nodded at him. Finally, you seemed to hone in on what the force was trying to get you to see.

“What do you want to do next?”

To that, he replied solemnly.

“Something I haven’t been allowed to do in a long time. But I don’t know where to start, and…”

You felt it. “And you’re frightened.”

“Yes.”

The force was clear now.

“Would you like some help with that?” You smiled.

He whimpered. “Yes.”

“We should get started, then. Like you said, I must get up early in the morning.”

A shaky breath hissed through his modulator. Slowly, you rose from your seat and made your way over to him. He stared up at you and you reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. You figured now would be a good time to introduce yourself. You gave him your name, prompting him to do the same.

“It’s Din.” He seemed amused by his own introduction. He scoffed, “I haven’t told anyone my name since… since I swore the creed. I wasn’t allowed to. I haven’t gone by that name since I put on this helmet.”

Helmet. Alarm bells rung in your head, and a distant memory emerged that finally made you understand. Ancient mandalorians never removed their helmets. The practice was legend now, but there were always rumors.

“You’ve never removed your helmet in front of anyone.”

Din lowered his head to stare at your chest. You could feel his shame radiating off of him. Oh.

“You weren’t supposed to remove it, but you did.”

His voice was strained. “According to the creed, I was never supposed to put it back on.”

You pondered for a minute. Slowly, your hands worked their way across his shoulders and neck and arms. You felt the fabric underneath his armor, the way his cape was tucked around his neck, and Din’s hands ventured out to your stomach. You weighed your options, until you finally elected to provide them both and let him decide.

“Do you want to work up to it?” You asked. His head snapped back up to look at you. “Taking the helmet off, I mean. Do you want to start with other clothes first? Or do you want to bite the bullet, Din?”

He shuddered as he heard his name come out of your mouth. Din squeezed the skin at your hips, his fingers digging in almost desperately.

“If it takes too long, I’m afraid that I might back out.”

You placed your hands at the base of his helmet on either side. His hands moved from your waist to cup your wrists. “You’re sure you’re ready to accept what you’ve lost?”

“I am,” he breathed decidedly.

You deactivated his modulator and lifted the beskar over his head, not daring to let yourself look at him until the helmet was all the way off. You turned away from him, setting the helmet gently on the table beside the couch. Before you even faced him, Din’s terrified excitement encompassed you. That, or perhaps you were also scared and excited.

The image in front of you was captivating. Not only could you feel the fear that Din felt, but now you could see it on his face. His face. Dark, messy hair framed the face of a man not quite as old as you, but not particularly young. His skin flushed bright pink, only drawing more attention to his eyes, which were bright and deep and soft. A full, hooked nose sat above plump and cracked lips—the man had an obvious habit of biting them, it appeared.

You were ogling him, for the second time today. After a few moments, he turned his gaze to the floor, too vulnerable to look straight at you. Then a few more moments passed, and his eyes flickered up to meet yours again. You were enamored with how bright they were. Such a deep chocolate brown, but piercing and wide.

“Can I touch you?” You asked. He swallowed hard, then nodded. You ran your thumb across his cheek and he shivered at the contact, still studying your face. Your hand followed his jawline, tucking stray curls behind his ears and feeling his stubble with the pads of your fingers. When your index finger grazed the arch of his upper lip, his eyes fluttered shut.

You tilted his head back and leaned down, touching your lips to his.

Din froze again and, when you pulled away, he stared at you with nothing short of bewilderment. An apology was already forming on your lips when his still-gloved hand shot up to the back of your head, closing the gap between you. He wasn’t a particularly agile kisser—which wasn’t his fault, you reminded yourself, and was frankly endearing—but Din was wise enough to restrain himself and let you lead him through it. A sweet, simple rhythm arose pretty quickly, and you let him continue to kiss you for as long as he wanted. He pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arm gingerly around your back. All the while, familiar heat was pooling in your belly. You tried your best to ignore it, figuring you would need to set your pace excruciatingly slow for Din to warm up to it.

And perhaps he was unsure of himself, but Din was also eager. He didn’t need to warm up.

He was white-hot already.

His mouth was still on yours when you felt something drop on your face. A tear rolled off of his skin and onto yours, and you realized that Din was crying. You could feel that he was embarrassed, too, but he didn’t need to be. Bringing your hand to his face, you swiped a tear off of his cheek with your thumb. You smiled against him before leaning away and pressing your forehead to his. His breath shook as he tried to compose himself.

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” you prompted him.

Amusement tugged at the corners of his lips, even as the tears continued to fall.

His voice was shaky. “I thought you could already tell. Isn’t that how we got here?”

You smiled at him, shaking your head lightly.

“I’m not a mind-reader, baby. I still need you to use your words.”

His eyes flickered at the word baby. You wondered when the last time was that Din was treated with any kind of tenderness. Something told you it had been a long, long time.

Din cleared his throat, blushing as he struggled to look you in the eye. “I didn’t know that it could be like this.”

“Is it too much? Do you want to stop?” You leaned away. He held the back of your neck, keeping you close.

“No! Don’t stop,” he blurted. Din was flustered, stumbling over his words. “I don’t want to stop. I’m just… surprised. In a good way, I think. No, I know it’s a good way, just—just don’t stop.”

“Okay, I won’t.” You moved your hands to the base of his neck, fumbling with his cape. “I’m gonna take this off, alright?”

He nodded, mumbling a barely-audible affirmation as you untucked the fabric and let it fall down past his shoulders. Din threw his head back as the cool air hit his throat. Slowly, you moved your mouth down until your lips brushed against his Adam's apple. He winced at the contact, one hand darting up into your hair while the other held the small of your back. Din continued to choke on his breath until the gasps and hitches morphed into longer groans and whines. The noise went straight between your thighs, but again you ignored it. That is, until Din’s hands moved together and made you pause.

Two soft plats rang in your ears as Din dropped his gloves to the ground, one after the other.

You didn’t even have to move. Almost instantly, his hands returned to their respective places. His fingertips dug experimentally into your skin, hesitant and soft. Another whine escaped his throat. “Fuck.”

It was only then that you felt it—what you should have noticed by now. With Din’s hand pressed into the small of your back, tugging you ever-so-gently closer to him, you could plainly feel it. The outline of him through the front of his pants, poking against your thigh and no doubt straining against the tight fabric. His cock had grown hard some time ago, but he’d been ignoring it just as you’d been brushing off your own feelings of arousal. Now, though, it was simply begging for attention. His hips bucked involuntarily. You smirked.

“Would you like some help with that?” You teased.

Din’s face lit up red. “I—yes, I do—just give me a second—”

He squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating on something. While his left hand stayed behind your head, his right was slowly venturing further upward underneath the fabric of your shirt. When his hips jerked again, he shuddered underneath you. His cock had gained the smallest bit of friction from the movement against your thigh, and he was trying desperately to stop himself from bucking up to get more. You felt a bit of panic flowing off of him.

“Din?” His big, brown eyes flickered open and up to your face. “Are you a virgin, baby?”

“No,” he blurted. He scoffed, as if the suggestion was so far from the truth that it was amusing. “It’s just… never happened like this. There’s rules, normally. Mandalorians, we’re not celibate by any means, but I wouldn’t exactly say that intimacy is our strong suit. Before, no one was allowed to see my skin. Not even a little. I’m just… I’m trying to decide…”

You tilted your head, lifting his chin with your fingertip. “Trying to decide how much to show me?”

“Yes,” he breathed.

“What does your instinct tell you?” You inquired, already knowing the answer.

His eyes fluttered down to your chest. Din swallowed hard and dropped his hands to his sides, propping himself against them. He sucked in a breath.

“To take it all off.”

The beskar came first. Din disconnected his chest plate while you tore his shoulder guards off of him. The armor on his arms was equipped with weapons and electronics you couldn’t work, so you took the opportunity to shed your own clothing while he dealt with the rest of the metal pieces. You were down to your underwear by the time he was finished, a heap of beskar resting behind your couch when you sat down again. His hands didn’t hesitate to grab your waist. Din felt your bare chest and belly while you toyed with the buttons on his pants.

When you paused to let him pull his shirt over his head, he took a moment to understand what he was supposed to do next. After a beat, Din reached between his shoulder blades, tugging the fabric up and off his body.

Even as big and strong as he appeared in the armor, you weren’t quite expecting the toned body underneath his clothes. Din’s body was lean, but bulked at his chest and arms—you supposed from the physical nature of his work. A toned set of abs no doubt lied under a soft belly that was jerking from nerves and restraint.

Your fingers danced along his biceps, across his chest and down his stomach before settling at the waist of his pants. He arched his back to give you room to tug them past his hips. When you did, the length of his cock became plainly visible, outlined by boxer briefs barely capable of containing it. Your fingers ghosted across the fabric, causing him to shudder and whine.

“I wanna—” Din started, cut off by flick of your thumb over the tip, where a tiny wet spot was beginning to form. “I want to touch you first. Make sure you’re—you’re ready.”

You groaned at the thought of him needing to get you ready. Of the perfect, almost-unimaginable stretch that would hurt so good that you would be drunk on it. You thought of his fingers dancing along your entrance, as gentle and tentative as the rest of his touch, only to retreat and make way for what you could already tell would leave you feeling sore tomorrow.

“Go ahead, baby.”

Din’s hand ventured down to the band of your underwear. He dipped below the elastic and he groaned deep from his chest when he felt your slick touch the pads of his fingers. It must have been the first time he’d gotten to touch someone without the gloves coming between you. His fingers dipped lower, brushing past your clit and to the top of your entrance. He shuddered and groaned again and you were half-convinced he would come undone right then. His cock twitched underneath his boxers, desperate for friction.

First a single finger dipped hesitantly into your entrance, hooking upward against your walls as it searched for that spongy place that was most sensitive. As much as he tried—and as much as you were sure he knew how to draw an orgasm from you—he was too distracted by the feeling of you to focus. He pulled out the digit, gathering more of your slick and circling your folds, then pushed two back inside.

“Dank—fucking—ferrik—” Din muttered under his breath. “So tight… so wet for me—”

“I think you’re getting a little distracted, baby,” you joked.

He mumbled, “You just feel so good.”

His fingers moved lazily, directionless. You could tell he was getting lost in the sensation of fucking you with his hand. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to cum before you’d even touched him.

You were starting to get desperate. Grinding into his hand, you leaned to his ear. “I think I can help you, baby. Will you let me do that?”

“Please,” he whispered.

Your hand moved to cup his over your underwear, the other arm holding your weight. You pressed his fingers further inside you, rolling your hips until they hit that perfect spot. Pleasure shot through you and you groaned. The sound and the feeling of you bucking into his hand made Din whine again.

He shook his head. “I’m not gonna—I can’t—It’s too much—”

You didn’t want this to be over so soon, though. In a split-second decision, you squeezed your eyes shut and focused hard, calling on the force. You felt yourself constricting the base of his shaft, holding his orgasm off while he hissed and bucked upward. It took a second for him to realize what you were doing—how you were doing it—and he eyed you with shock and brief panic.

“Din,” you cooed at him slowly, “take a deep breath and focus for me, okay? I know you know how to use those fingers.”

After a few panicked huffs evolved into slow, shaky breaths, Din nodded up at you. His fingers danced across that spot, pausing to hone in when you whined and clenched around them. He set a pattern of twisting and curling and parting his fingers, brushing across that spot every few movements. It was just enough to make you frustrated. Enough to make you crave the tiniest bit more. A sly grin moved across his face when you whimpered and tried to move your hips to take him deeper.

“Please, Din,” you begged, your thrusts barely missing your sweet spot. “I need more. You’re right there, just more—”

“I can’t help but want to savor this,” he breathed. He tilted his head so his mouth was at your ear. You couldn’t tell if it was more teasing or truthful. Either way, he didn’t change his pace.

He kept going for another short while until you simply couldn’t stand it anymore. Your hand parted from his and hovered above your core. Din realized a little too late what you were about to do. Without his permission, Din’s fingers curved upward until they perfectly pressed against your bundle of nerves. His thumb moved up to press against your clit, drawing tiny circles as his hand moved faster, harder than before. He grunted frustratedly after a few moments, not fond of the feeling, and he didn’t hesitate to continue the rhythm you’d set when you released him.

“Keep going,” you instructed.

He nodded.

The pleasure was steadily building. Quickly building. Din could hardly handle it all and he elected to distract himself by sinking his teeth into your shoulder. He managed to keep his hand steady—and keep from spilling in his boxers—as his tongue collected the sweat from your skin. When you were nearly at your peak you began to tighten around him, moving your hips to match his pace. The climax stole your breath from you and your body shook in his tight, strong grasp. Din threw his head back as you gushed around his hand.

When you finally came down, your entire weight resting against him as you gasped for breath, he hummed a noise of amusement.

“Do you think you’re ready now?”

You chuckled into his neck. “Only if you are.”

“I can’t believe I get to feel you like this,” he exalted, almost to himself. Din tilted your head to face him, making the most confident eye contact he’d made with you all night. “I can’t explain it, but I’m glad that it’s you. Thank you.”

You buried your face back in his neck, flustered. It was barely audible when you muttered, “Me too.”

“And yes,” he added. “I’m ready.”

He dipped his hands to your backside, pulling your underwear down as you shimmied off of his lap just enough to free them. Slowly, Din pushed the two of you forward until you were on your back. He planted a quick kiss on your lips before pulling off of you. You watched as he swiftly removed his last remaining clothing.

And now that there was nothing left to the imagination, you were absolutely sure.

You were going to be sore tomorrow.

Din moved back on top of you, guiding your legs around his hips and running the head of his cock through your slick, coating himself with it. Your hands shot up to clutch at his chest and his eyelids dropped as he fell into the more familiar feeling of his dick against your entrance. Juxtaposed with all the new sensations and the connection the two of you seemed to have, Din felt a kind of euphoria he couldn’t describe. Confidence overrode the uncertainty until all that was left was a deep, carnal hunger for you. You could feel it.

Then he slowly pushed himself inside, only an inch or so, and your mind and body were consumed by the stretch of it. Your fingers dug into his biceps and your head fell back against the cushion. He stilled his movements, not even halfway inside and struggling with all his might to stay still.

“Are you alright?” He asked, a tinge of worry in his voice.

Breathlessly, you laughed up at him. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

His expression didn’t change. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” you smiled.

“I need you to tell me if I’m hurting you,” he warned. You nodded up at him. “And just so you’re aware, I do have the implant.”

“That’s good,” you noted. “Because we both know you’re not gonna last very long.”

Din closed his eyes. “I would be offended by that if you weren’t squeezing me so tight right now.”

“It’s okay,” you shrugged. He started to move again, and your voice wavered. “We’ll work you up to it.”

When he was seated almost all the way in, beads of sweat had formed in a line across your forehead. He grunted and took a breath to steady himself. You almost felt bad for adding the quip.

“We can always go for round two, if you’re up for it.”

He started to drag himself out of you, angling his hips just right. “We’ll see if you’re up to it, sweetheart.”

Din stopped with just the tip seated in your walls. He seemed to take your words as a challenge, and you did the same with his retort. The fire in your gaze gave Din some kind of reassurance. He grabbed your hand in his and snapped his hips forward, swiftly burying himself all the way inside you. You gasped and moaned, your whole body jolting from the strength of it. Squeezing his hand, you arched your back just the tiniest bit, inviting him in to set whatever pace and force he wanted.

Which he did.

The rhythm he set was slow, but deep. The head of his cock bumped hard against your sweet spot with each thrust and you held onto him for dear life. He gripped you just as tightly, your waist encased in his sturdy grasp. Din’s head dipped until his mouth latched to your jaw. His lips brushed against your skin, more interested in simply feeling you than drinking you in. Tiny whimpers fell through them on every other jerk of his hips.

Your orgasm built just a bit slower than before and you were almost delirious in your pleasure. One of his hands moved between your legs, grazing the bud of nerves above your entrance as he felt himself sliding in and out of you. An unfettered, grumbling moan escaped his throat. Din’s hips began to sputter and falter in their pace.

“Keep going,” you instructed, placing your hand over his. There was no threat this time of you using the force to move him, but Din complied with your request nonetheless. He drew smooth circles with his hand, matching the pace of the snapping of his pelvis into you. “Like that. Yes, Din.”

“I don’t know—how long I can.” He dipped his head, concentrating on his thrusts. “You’re too good, you feel too good.”

“It’s alright.” You cupped his cheek in your hand. You were almost there. Right at the edge. As you climbed to that high point and pleasure began to crash down around you, through you, your body went rigid and your back arched until you were pressed as closely to his chest as you could possibly get.

Your stilling and squeezing around him is what pushed Din over the edge. He buried himself as deep as he could inside you, filling you with his spend and utterly gasping for air. His chest heaved and shuddered against yours and you held onto him tight. After a moment of collecting himself, Din slowly pulled out of you while you whined at the loss of his touch.

The two of you sat together on the couch, fatigued and satisfied. Your fingers danced in Din’s hair while he absentmindedly ran his hands along your thighs and belly. When you finally had to excuse yourself to the fresher—the sticky feeling between your legs had turned cold and bothersome—Din began to collect his armor and throw his clothes on haphazardly. Something felt wrong about it.

“Going somewhere, baby?” You hummed at him in the doorway. His eyes gazed at you innocently as he pulled on his boxers.

“Well, it’s like you said…” he stumbled over his words. “You have to be up early. I should probably get out of your hair.”

You could feel that he didn’t want to leave, but this was what Din was used to. A quick fuck, impersonal and needy, and then parting ways without a second thought. That was what was normal for him.

You weren’t having it.

“I don’t want you to leave,” you explained solemnly. He slowed his attempt to tug his pants up around his thighs. Din was unsure of what to do. “…do you want to leave?”

He shook his head. “I don’t.”

“Then stay.” You smiled.

He nodded at you and leaned back against the couch cushions. You were almost ready to close the door behind you when a thought struck. You cleared your throat.

“Would you want to join me?”

You gestures toward the shower and Din’s eyes blew even wider. He glanced at you, then the fresher, then back at you. Again, he nodded, and you smiled as you turned to press the buttons for the shower settings. It was a lucky thing you weren’t on Jakku or Tatooine—you loved the water too much. Here, you had an abundance of it, which you certainly took for granted.

Din’s eyes were so lidded that he could hardly keep them open. He was anxious, you could feel, and the anticipation of touching you again was pulling him out of his head. His heart was racing and you moved your hand up to press against it. Absently, his hand ghosted behind yours. The mandalorian looked to be lost in his own mind, staring off into space.

“Are you okay?” You spoke gently. He hummed a noise of general content, but didn’t look down at you. When you pulled him into the stream of hot water, his knees nearly buckled underneath him. You held the sides of his face. “Hey, baby. Talk to me.”

He barely registered your voice, it seemed. Din sank further into the warmth of the shower and his arms danced unceremoniously on your skin. His breath still shook even as the water helped him decompress. His eyes didn’t focus when he spoke, his voice cracked and whispering.

“Why are you taking such good care of me?”

“What do you mean?” You asked. He finally looked at you, fear clouding his eyes and making his brows furrow in a grimace.

Din gritted his teeth. “I mean nothing to you. I’m just a traveler you met at the market. Haven’t been in your life for more than a few days. What makes me deserve all this?”

“You don’t have to earn my affection, Din.” Your hands were still on his face. He leaned into the touch. “You deserve to be taken care of just like anyone does after sex. Just like anyone does in general.”

He looked skeptical, and you added, “and you’re not ‘nothing’ to me.”

“What, because the force ‘drew you’ to me? Because you can peer into my head and see my whole life if you want to?” He scoffed.

Din saw the hurt on your face and he softened a bit. You cleared your throat. “I don’t just care about you because of what the force showed me, and I can’t see your whole life. I care about you because of the night that I’ve spent with you. I want to spend more time with you, too.”

“But why?”

You smiled and turned away from him, leaning back against his chest and pulling his arms around you. You grabbed the bar of soap from the rack and folded it into his hand. “Maybe because you give me so much credit for doing normal-people things.”

His hands were more confident this time as they traveled your chest and shoulders and waist. Din massaged the soap across your skin in a steady, calming rhythm. You leaned back against his shoulder, allowing him to hold your weight. He didn’t mind.

“Or maybe I want to see those things that the force can’t show me about you. Maybe your reputation precedes you and I want to see what all of the fuss is about.”

He hummed in your ear. “I have a reputation?”

You scoffed.

“For someone who’s traveled so much of the galaxy, you really don’t know anything, do you?”

You felt him smile against your skin. Sleep tugged at you both as you finished getting clean, and Din could barely keep his hands off of you when you turned off the water. You tossed him a towel, noting with a chuckle, “I thought my touch would be too overwhelming by now. We’ve done a lot tonight.”

He grinned lazily and wrapped the towel around his waist. “Overwhelming? Are you kidding? I can’t get enough of it.”

“That’s good,” you noted, tugging him toward your bunk. “Because my bed is only a single.”

You weren’t surprised at all when the two of you settled underneath the sheets and Din elected to hold you to his chest, his head nuzzled into your neck. For the first time since you’d met him, his mind was quiet. Soon enough, his breathing slowed and steadied, and you figured he must be asleep.

“May the force be with you, Din,” you cooed. It was meant to be a blessing that he wouldn’t hear. Still, he replied.

“And also with you.”

-----

Author's Notes: first of all, idk why writing has been an ordeal recently. I want this to be its own fic universe but not a series per se. I love the idea of a Jedi reader and Din. My other note is that I have not proofread this and I forgot how sex works so... you know. Do what you will.

No tags because idk who to tag.

#the mandalorian #Mando #din Djarin #din dijarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #the helmet comes off #Star Wars #pedro pascal #masterlist

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dumbbitchenergy17 · 24 days ago

Text

Accident on Set

Plot: During a Buzzfeed interview stories of accidents on set happen to come up.

Word Count: 1.7K

Pairing: Paul Mescal x Reader, Pedro Pascal x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: blood/injury, sweet "father-daughter" moments, laughter giggles, just general fluff

—————

Doing a cute little BuzzFeed interview with Paul and some puppies was fun. The baby pitbulls play around between you, a gray one rests on your lap as you scratch its head, Paul using toys to keep their attention focused.

“Have you ever gotten an injury on set?” the interviewer asks, and Paul hums, letting one of the puppies gnaw at his hand as he plays with it.

“On Gladiator 2 during one of the fight sequences I pulled a muscle in my leg badly and was constantly on icy hots for a week straight, I strained something but it was not fun,” he says rubbing his muscle over his pantleg, “They had to work around shooting other scenes earlier while I was put on bed rest. I felt so bad.”

“I remember that call,” You pull another puppy onto your lap and it joins the sleeping one, “Luckily you had nurse Pedro to help with the healing process.”

Paul laughs, “He was just as banged up with his arm. What do they say misery loves company. And you?”

You give a sheepish look stroking the puppies’ fur, “I got my shit rocked by Giancarlo Esposito.”

The people behind the camera react with gasps and laugh at the normalcy of your words, while Paul looks shocked. “I don’t think I ever told you this, " you say honestly to him.

“I feel like I wouldn’t know if my girlfriend told me about getting assaulted,” he says.

“I wasn’t assaulted it was a complete accident,” you defend yourself and Giancarlo, “So it was during Season Three of Mandalorian in the finale there’s a portion where I’m taunting Moff Gideon and he punches me to shut me up.” you grimace already seeing the gears turn in Paul’s head.

You hear the doors open behind you as Gideon stands before a large hologram map, “Sir, the fighters and bombers have launched,” A commando says, “Their capital ship will soon be destroyed.”

Gideon is silent before speaking up, “But the Mandalorian has escaped.” Your heavy head perks up slightly upon hearing the news. Din had escaped. He was moving through this base. The whirring of Gideon’s armor as the Commando looks at him waiting for orders,

“Shall we engage?” The helmet is put on Gideon and you hear his modulated “No, I'll take care of him myself.” A hoarse chuckle comes fills the room and the commando stiffens Gideon is silent as it starts soft until it’s the only thing he can hear seeing your head shake. You look up at him the blood mouth and chin dried the hollow look in your eyes having a spark of malice.

“You’re dead…he’s gonna kill you.” You rasp a huff of laughter in your tone and you hear the whirring of his armor as it curls into a fist, “You won’t even last a minut-”

What was meant to be a faux punch you hadn’t realized you were too leaned forward until his fist, which was dressed in a decently heavy material that created the ‘beskar’ armor collides against your temple. If the scene was done correctly you would’ve ‘hit’ the ground before they paused to add the effect of a split eyebrow and a quickly growing bruise. What the crew hadn’t expected was the loud cry to come for you and with Tiya chained with her arms behind her back you hit the ground hard.

“Holy Shit!” Giancarlo shouts and it’s utter chaos. You can say you blacked out for just a second when he hit you, immediately feeling the pounding headache. You heard someone shout for a medic someone on the crew undoing the restraints so you could properly lay on your back.

“You’re alright Y/n,” Rick, your director calls out from beside you blinking back tears and seeing this crowd around you, Jon Favreau, Dave Filoni, and Giancarlo who has his helmet off a shellshock look on his face.

“Y/n I’m so sorry.” he pleads and you wave him off.

“It’s fine.” You reassure him though wince as your headache grows worse. The medic finally pulls up and the crew makes space for them to work. It didn’t help that you were already covered in fake blood.

“Y/n I need you to focus and follow this light,” one of them says before a tiny flashlight is shined and you follow his directions as he moves it from side to side.

“Pupil reaction looks good,” he says and you hiss as something is pressed against your brow, “You have a laceration across your brow we’re gonna get you to the hospital.”

It seemed almost unreal hearing laceration and hospital in the same sentence directed at you. It was hard to stop the waterworks, you’ve never been to the hospital before. You were going to be in one all by yourself, your family was across the fucking country and here you were crying getting put on a stretcher. Your assistant has to practically talk you down a panic attack during the ambulance ride to the hospital.

“I think I felt worse ‘cause I forgot I still had Pedro as my emergency contact for when he was on set for filming,” you pick at a hangnail, “I probably gave him a heart attack when he got that phone call.”

And a heart attack you gave him. Your assistant was on the phone with your parents informing them of your injury. Give them constant updates of being admitted, the concussion tests issued, and needing stitches. Then having to speak with your team while getting stitches put in to assure them, no you didn’t want to sue or press charges.

“Like I said for the fifth time Jeanine I don’t want to do anything. It was an accident. I just want to get back to set and finish today,” you say holding your phone on speaker.

“Are you sure you’re alright returning to set?” you hear her ask a bit frustrated but mainly concerned. No manager wants to receive a call that their client had an accident at work and was in the hospital.

“I passed all their tests and they are stitching me up as we speak. I just need to take antibiotics and I’ll be good. I wouldn’t be adamant if I didn’t believe I was truly alright.” you hear her sigh on the other end.

“Alright, I’ll have Cathy come to check on you after you finish filming today,” Jeanine says, “I hope you feel better.” The phone call ends as the doctor finishes with the last stitches. You were grateful for all the work they did, but you felt bad when they quickly rushed you seeing you covered in fake blood believing it was real.

Signing and giving any information needed to the hospital you had your team call head to the set that you would be returning to finish filming the sequence. Giancarlo gave you the biggest hug and apology on the planet with you constantly reassuring him it was an accident.

“If it makes you feel better we don’t need your coverage for that shot,” Rick says, “It’s a good take.” That makes you laugh loudly begging to watch playback to the crew’s horror to watch your accident. The scene was pretty sick and you took that punch like a champ. You all kept up with the rest of the filming schedule with a few scenes needing to get pushed to the next day given your hospital visit. Cleaned up and pampered by the makeup team when cleaning you up being extra wary of the stitches across your browbone. Like your manager said your agent Cathy arrived with a shocking guest.

“Pedro, what the fuck are you doing here?” your question is muffled in his chest as he draws you into a fierce hug before he pulls back. You can see the immediate concern on his face grimacing at the stitches.

“I got a call from a hospital saying you got hurt as your emergency contact, christ kid are you trying to kill me.” he pulls you back into another hug.

“Fuck I’m so sorry I completely forgot to remove you when you left,” you say before immediately pulling back it looked like he threw on the first thing and rushed here, “Did you fly from Calgary!” The wave of guilt crashes over you and he soothes you.

“Kid I’d drop anything to make sure you’re alright. I checked in with your parents before I boarded to tell them I’d make sure you’re alright,” he says resting his hands on your shoulders and rubbing circles to calm you. Your assistant never mentioned Pedro coming over but you were on such an adrenaline high and crash that the hospital seemed like such a blur.

“Now let’s get you home and get you all cozy,” he wraps an arm around your shoulder guiding you to your car, “I’m pulling out all the stops, Tex-Mex, true crime documentaries, and wine.” You and Cathy give him a look at suggesting you drink following your injury.

“The wine’s for me since you’re stressing me the hell out.” he says and you give a slight ‘oh’ as he keeps guiding you.

“Maybe it’s a sign for us to work on this project,” you say out of the blue as you climb into the passenger seat and he starts up the car, “I mean we both have given a blood sacrifice to Star Wars now.”

Pedro lets out a loud laugh at the realization you both have. Yours was a more serious scenario regarding getting injured while back in Season one broke his nose when he walked into a piece of plywood not paying attention.

“So this little scar I got,” you point right above your left browbone and Paul leans in close and hidden beneath the makeup you wear now he can see the shift in slightly raised skin from the scar. “Pedro and I are forever bonded to this show. Funny enough if you watch the finale they ended up using that take.” This makes the crew laugh at the comment. You see Paul’s slightly pouty face poking him until he scrunches it pulling away from your attack.

“I’m fine Paul. I handled it like a champ,” you say brushing fake dirt off your shoulder and he smirks.

“Didn’t you just say you cried the entire way to the hospital?” That only makes the crew laugh louder and you smack his shoulder drawing a chuckle from him.

“Shut up!” The laughter only gets louder before dying down allowing the interview to continue.

#paul mescal #paul mescal fanfic #paul mescal x y/n #paul mescal x reader #pedro pascal x platonic!reader #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #clan of three series #clan of three

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