#Biker Mando | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flightlessangelwings · 10 months

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Mando M.C.

Biker!Din Djarin x fem!reader Word count- 6.1k Prompts- AU fic, hurt/comfort, “Do you trust me?” “You can’t go until I tell you” “I can’t stop thinking about you” Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), biker au, hurt/comfort, pining, feelings, protective!Din, attempted kidnapping, nondescript violence, minor character death, reader is a sex worker and uses “Amarilis” as a fake name (it’s explicitly said so), same no removing helmet rules, no use of y/n Notes- Written for @pedrostories 1k celebration, congrats you guys y’all deserve it!! The fake name "Amarilis" is a nod to my good friend @olliwan-kenobi own biker!Din au which I have a cameo in under that name, so it's something special to me! I had a lot of fun with this one, and I just can never get enough of biker au's!! And we respect sex workers in this house (and so does Din and the rest of the Mandos)!! Enjoy!! @flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to also follow that and turn on post notifications to stay up to date on when I post new fics! Moodboard made by me! The Din vibes in that right pic are immaculate omg!

The roar of the motorcycle echoed in the wind as the Mandalorian drove down the open road. It was a crisp, bright Nevarro day, and the long winding road was the biker’s for the taking. On the sleek black and silver bike, he could go anywhere, do anything, see anyone. But right now, there was only one place he wanted to be.

“Welcome back, Mando,” the lady of the house greeted his helmeted form as he stepped through the familiar doors.

“Madame Luna,” he nodded his head in a friendly greeting.

Neither of them knew the other’s true identities; no one used their real names behind the doors of the brothel. Madame Luna, the beautiful, tall and commanding mistress was in charge here, and she always made sure her girls were safe, protected and taken care of. It was the place to be, both as a worker and a client.

“I’m here to see…”

“I know who you’re here to see,” Madame Luna interrupted, “You always see her,” she bat her eyelashes at the leather-clad and helmeted biker, “Are you sure I can’t keep you company today, Mando?”

“I’m sure,” his tone was firm yet kind.

Before either could say anything, your hushed voice came from behind the mistress of the brothel, “Mando…” Although his chapter was well known for never removing their helmets, you recognized his silhouette anywhere.

He turned his helmet towards you and you saw his shoulders visibly relax, “Amarilis.”

No real names.

Mando looked you up and down and his fist involuntarily clenched at the sight of you. You were draped in a black silk robe and you leaned against the frame of the doorway. Like all the others who worked at the brothel, you were styled to perfection to attract those who patronized there, but there was something different about you. Something about your energy that no one else possessed drew Mando in.

“Mando,” you repeated in a more sure tone as you reached your hand out to him, “Follow me.”

Madame Luna smirked as she watched the two of you pass by, “Enjoy yourself, Mando.”

The brothel itself was dimly lit, but clean. It was frequented by many different motorcycle clubs in the area, but it was also a designated neutral space. Even if rivals were seen in the halls, it was a no-violence building. Mando himself was the one who put the deal together so that no one who worked there, no one who wasn’t involved, would ever be caught in any crossfire.

It kept you safe.

Your hand felt warm in the Mandalorian’s gloved one as you took him into your room. It was simple, yet the space’s purpose was as plain as day. The bed sat on the far end of the small space and it was adorned with silk sheets that matched your robe. A small dresser sat on the other end, and he knew what the drawers held. Light in the room was minimal, yet it was just enough to highlight your silhouette. With the door closed and locked, you let go of his hand and looked him up and down as you fiddled with the sash of your robe.

“It’s been a while since you’ve been by, Din,” your voice was soft as your robe opened to reveal nothing but tiny lace black panties underneath, “Everything ok?”

Din’s breath hitched in his throat as he took off his gloves, the only piece of clothing that he ever removed, “Fine,” he replied as he reached out and caressed your body gently, “Guild’s been busy lately,” his gruff voice echoed from under his helmet as he felt his pants tighten. No matter how many times he saw you, it was like the first time, and his heart pounded in his chest every time.

“I was worried,” you looked into the darkness that was the visor of his helmet and imagined his eyes looking back at you. You opened your mouth to say something more, but you left it unspoken… I missed you.

Din breathed your real name as he pulled you flush against him, “Are you alright?”

Your smile lit up the room, “I am now,” your voice was raw yet hushed as you backed up both your bodies towards the bed, “But you’re here on business… So let’s get to it,” your tone turned more sultry as you bumped into the bedframe.

A single soft chuckle escaped his lips as his hands ran up and down your slides, memorizing every dip and curve of your body. Your skin warmed as you felt his eyes devour your figure, even if you couldn’t see them. Both of you let out harmonizing groans as Din hooked his fingers on the elastic of your panties and coaxed them over your hips and down your legs, dropping down to his knees as he did so.

Din’s eyes landed on your pussy, already wet for him, and he let out a low growl. His eyes ran down the length of your legs as you stepped out of the small piece of fabric. But, as you were about to use your foot to fling them aside, he grabbed your ankle, caressing you as he reached down and picked the panties up off the floor. Without looking, Din tossed them over his shoulder, and you let out a laugh as they landed right on the door handle.

“You know how I like you,” Din purred as he stood and guided your body onto the bed.

You let out another soft chortle before you rolled over onto your stomach, comfortable on the plush bed and silk sheets. You let out a whimper as you felt his calloused hands roam over your back. Din’s touch was always surprisingly tender for how strong and tough a man he was on the outside. Goosebumps erupted on your skin as he cupped your ass and gave it a firm squeeze, and you heard him groan as he kneaded the soft flesh.

A contented sigh escaped your lips as you buried your face in the sheets and Din positioned himself behind you. You heard the faint sound of his belt clicking and you felt the mattress dip by your legs. Shifting yourself so that your knees propped your ass up a bit, you heard Din let out a low growl as you presented your dripping pussy for him.

“Good girl,” the words slipped out before he would stop himself, but it only turned both of you on more.

“Din…”

He ran his fingers across your folds, savoring the wetness he felt there before he pushed two fingers inside you with little resistance. You moaned into the sheets as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of you, getting you ready for his cock. Din was always so soft with you, as if he was worried he would break you if he went too hard. You almost would have wanted him to be a little rougher, but you also craved the way he handled you so tenderly.

Din groaned as he pulled his now soaking wet fingers out of you, and if it weren’t for his helmet, he would have licked them clean. But, his aching cock demanded his attention first, and instead he used his slick-coated fingers to pump himself a few times before he lined himself up with your pussy.

Slowly, Din pushed his cock into you, making both of you gasp at the same time. You clutched into the sheets as you felt his thick cock stretch you out inch by delicious inch. And Din could not look away as your pussy lips wrapped around him as he felt your warmth engulf him more and more. It was a connection unlike anything else either of you had felt, yet neither of you spoke the feelings out loud. To both of you, this was just business, At least that was the lie you both told yourselves.

“Fuck,” Din growled as he bottomed out inside of you and leaned forward so that his leather-clad body covered your bare one.

He held onto your hips as he positioned himself to thrust in and out of you. But, Din frowned from under the helmet when you hissed in pain.

“You ok?” he asked in a whisper.

“Yes,” you replied instantly, “Please, keep going.”

Din released his grip so that only his body weight kept you pinned underneath him as he slowly rocked back a bit. Gently, carefully, tenderly, he thrust forward, feeling your tight muscles around him once more. When you only moaned in pleasure, Din kept his slow yet precise pace.

With your face buried in the sheets, Din used the leverage of your back against his helmet to tilt it up just enough so that his lips were exposed, allowing him to place a series of open mouthed kisses on your back. You moaned loudly as you felt the tickle of his little hairs, his soft lips, and the sharp angle of his nose against your bare skin, and it almost made you cum then and there.

“You…” you moaned, “You can go harder… If you want… Din…” you breathed heavily as he thrust into you over and over again.

Din’s cock twitched as you begged for him. And though he never wanted to hurt you, he also couldn’t deny your request. He groaned your name as he wrapped his arms around you, propping himself up on his knees so he would pound into you harder. As he adjusted your bodies, his helmet slid back down, covering his face entirely once more.

You cried out in pleasure as you suddenly found yourself in Din’s lap, his cock buried even deeper inside you at his new angle, as his arms held you firmly against his chest. With the new angle, your moans echoed freely in the room as he thrust into you harder and faster. And all you could do was hold on to him whenever you could grasp.

And you loved it.

Skin slapped against skin as groaned from both of you filled the room. Din kept his grip on you tight, yet not painful. And he was careful, even lost in his bliss, not to grab onto your hip where it caused you pain. As he thrust into you at his new angle, Din again used your shoulder to push his helmet up enough to free his lips so he could nibble on your skin. It was the closest he would get to kissing you.

“Fuck… Din… I’m…”

He moved his hand and rubbed at your clit, and he growled when he felt your inner muscles clench around his cock, “Cum for me, mesh’la…”

The room spun and you saw stars as your climax hit hard. You felt so wonderfully helpless in his arms as he pounded into you over and over again, hitting your sweet spot with precision. You moaned his name as a string of curses flowed from your lips as you rode out your orgasm on his cock.

Din loved to make you cum. Feeling you fall apart in his arms, knowing how vulnerable you were in that moment, and seeing how beautiful you looked, turned him on like nothing else. And as he held you tightly in your high, Din’s own climax soon followed and he bit down on your shoulder to stifle his own groans as he spilled himself deep inside you.

Once both of you were spent, Din rolled your bodies forward and you both collapsed onto the bed. His helmet dropped back down as your body bounced on the mattress while his own stayed over on shaky arms. Heavy breaths filled the room as neither of you moved for several long moments. You lied on your stomach, your eyes closed in contentment as you caught your breath and tried to calm your pounding heartbeat.

It was Din who broke the silence as he cupped the side of your face, “You ok?” he asked in a raspy voice.

You grinned before you opened your eyes, “Never better,” you replied as you finally opened your eyes and were met with his familiar figure hovering over you. Having never seen his face, you imagined what he looked like under the helmet. You imagined soft eyes and a kind smile. And something in you said that his eyes were brown. You had caught a slight glimpse of his hair a few times when he obviously needed it cut, and your heart fluttered at the thought of being able to run your fingers through those soft brown waves that stuck out from under his helmet.

Unaware of your internal conflict, Din extended a hand to help you up, and both of you almost gasped as a jolt pulsed through your connected hands. He cleared his throat though, and bent down and picked up your robe before he stood and strode over to the door where your discarded panties lay. You slipped your robe over your shoulders and held it closed as you watched his fingers nimbly slide them off the handle.

You studied the broadness of his back, covered completely by the leather jacket of his motorcycle club. On the back was a large skull, the Mythosaur, with the words “Mandalorian Motorcycle Club” around it. On his shoulder, Din had a patch with a mudhorn- his personal emblem. From being with Mandos from other chapters who did remove their helmets and jackets, you guessed he had both tattooed on his body. You were sure he had other tattoos as well, but the only one you ever saw was the little bullseye on his hand.

As Din turned back to you, instead of handing your panties back like you expected, he let out a mischievous exhale and balled them up before stuffing them in his leather jacket pocket. You practically saw the smirk that laid hidden behind the visor from the way his breath hitched.

You smirked, “I usually charge extra for that you know,” your tone was playful. Another Mandalorian, who always dressed in blue and silver and had a very handsome face, a sexy accent, and flirty demeanor, was actually one of your best customers in that regard.

“I know,” Din’s voice matched yours in friskiness. And you could tell he smiled back at you with a little gleam in his eye. Without another word, he came back and settled on the bed next to you, and you were sure your heart would burst from your chest as you listened to the sound of his breathing from under his helmet.

“I always look forward to your visits, Din,” you broke the silence with a light tone.

He let out a single amused huff, I do too…

Silence once again came over the two of you as you sat side by side on the bed. Your eyes looked around the room as you suddenly felt nervous at his side. The roughness of his leather jacket rubbed against your skin, yet it was a feeling you craved. Ever since the first time he came to you, there was something about Din that made him different from anyone else. You even trusted him enough with your real name, and he did the same.

That had to mean something, right?

“So…” you cleared your throat, “How’s Grogu?”

That made Din let out an amused chuckle, “That kid is gonna eat me out of house and home,” he laughed softly, “But he’s good. The covert is watching him right now.”

You sat in a comfortable silence before you burst into laughter.

“What is it?” Din asked, secretly savoring the sound of your laugh.

“Nothing,” you covered your face, “It’s just…” you tried to calm yourself before you continued, “I was just thinking about the first time you came here,” you snorted, “In all my years of working here, I’d never seen a man come by with his kid before.”

Din let out an amused huff, “Ok, yeah laugh it up.” But, he also couldn’t help but remember that day too. He was on the hunt for a bounty, and Grogu stayed with him in a little sidecar that Din had made for him. He had come by looking for information, and you were the one who had what he needed. Din was taken with you from the moment he laid eye on you, and he made a silent promise to return without the kid to see you more. And it was a promise he kept over and over again.

“No, no,” you waved your hands, “I didn’t mean anything by it,” you rested your hand on his knee, “I just mean you’re different… In a good way.”

“Thanks,” he huffed as his heart pounded in his chest from the way you held onto his leg.

After a few moments of calm silence, you spoke up again, “I have to say, Din,” you chuckled, “Your MC sounds more like a family than any other group that’s ever come around here.”

Din turned to you but said nothing.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way,” you raised your hands in defense, “It’s just funny how a group of bikers who have a reputation for never showing their faces and being the toughest out there are actually the easiest to get along with.”

Many members of Din’s covert came by this brothel, and he was sure that others he knew had also been with you. He wasn’t jealous, though, even if he wanted to be. He had to claim to you, and you were both free to do what you wanted and needed when the other wasn’t around. This was your job after all, just like he had his line of work. Din was only concerned for your safety, that was all. And at least he knew the other’s in his covert would treat you well.

“That really big guy had been here a few times actually,” you continued, “He wears blue…”

Din nodded, knowing you meant Paz.

“Want to know a secret?” you leaned in with a grin on your face, “He puts on a big macho guy act… But he’s even gentler than you,” you couldn’t help but burst into laughter, which Din joined in, “Please don’t tell anyone though. He would kill me!”

“Your secret is safe with me,” Din promised. Although it amused him to be privy to that information. As the laughter died down, though, Din turned more serious, “There is something I do need,” he said plainly.

“There always is,” you sighed as you turned to face him, “Who is the unlucky bastard this time?”

It was what brought him to you in the first place. Being the most sought after brothel in Nevarro, many came by here looking for the same thing Din did. But, it also proved advantageous for his job as a bounty hunter, and the two of you struck a deal that you would help him find his targets in exchange for a cut.

Din pulled out a photo and handed it to you, and his face morphed into a deep scowl under the helmet when he saw the way your face dropped and a gasp escaped your lips.

“You know him?” he asked in a low tone, “Did he hurt you?” every muscle in his body tensed.

You swallowed hard and nodded, “His group asked for a girl for a party two days ago and it paid well so I volunteered,” your hands trembled as you clenched the photo, “They weren’t too bad, just a little rougher than I expected.”

They just unknowingly signed their death certificates. “Where can I find them?” he growled.

A gasp escaped your lips at his sudden change in tone, and you weren’t quite sure what to make of it. You turned to Din and saw the way his fists clenched and his posture stiffened. You had become good at reading his body language over the time he had been coming to you, and you could tell he was pissed. And yet, it made your heart beat even faster.

Before you answered him, you grabbed his shoulders and straddled his waist, facing him as he remained seated on the bed, “How about another round first,” you purred as you rocked your hips against his and let your robe fall open, “On the house…”

Din groaned as he immediately rested his hands on your hips, careful not to hurt you but still hold you securely, “Yeah?” he asked with an obvious smirk in his tone.

“Yeah,” you whispered as you leaned in closer, your pulse running wild as he rested his helmeted forehead against yours.

It was dark by the time Din reached his destination: a rival MC’s clubhouse. He didn’t tell you the whole story; you didn’t need to know. But, his target, and the others in the group, were part of a new club that had been terrorizing the borders of Nevarro. They were a threat to the Mandalorians, and to everyone who lived closeby, so they had to be taken care of. Quickly and quietly. And being the best at what he did, Din volunteered to be the one to take the job. But, since he found out that they had hurt you too, it suddenly became more personal for him.

By the looks of the clubhouse, most of the group was there, and they all passed out after another night of heavy partying. Din rode his bike close enough that he would walk towards the dimmed house without being heard or spotted. His breaths came out in short, heavy bursts as he fastened a silencer on his gun and readied himself.

Without a sound, Din made his way through the back doors, taking out the two prospects that slept on the porch on the way. The floors creaked softly as he stepped inside, but he quickly shot three more men who were passed out drunk nearby. He crossed the doorway into another room where he fired on more unsuspecting, sleeping bikers.

But, as he got into the main room, one of them stirred and shouted as he recognized the figure in the shadows as an intruder. The rest of the men who snored on the floors and couches quickly snapped alert and reached for their guns.

“Shit,” Din cursed under his breath as he ducked for cover.

He easily took out two of the five men who fired at him before he ran towards another. Din evaded fire from the drunken men, shooting one of them dead on his way towards his target. With an angry growl, he tackled the man in the photo he showed you to the ground, punching him and nearly knocking him out as they collided with the floor.

“How…” the man wheezed, “How did you find us?”

“A friend,” Din answered in a voice that even he barely recognized, “Someone you hurt… And you will pay for…”

“Fuck,” he coughed as the realization became plain on his face. He didn’t have time to worry about it too long, though, as Din punched him several more times until the red on his face matched the rage that pulsed though Din’s veins.

With a heavy sigh, Din finally leaned back and surveyed the room. Bodies laid scattered all over the place, and the smell already started to invade his senses. But, before he could relax his tense shoulders and call the job done, a gunshot rang through the air, and Din quickly launched himself behind one of the couches for cover.

“You’ll pay for this, Mando!” a voice screamed over another gunshot, “I know there’s only one person who could have told you where to find us,” he sneered darkly as he holstered his gun and ran towards his bike, “I’ll have to pay her a visit…”

“No…” Din breathed as he bolted towards the man who already mounted his bike. Din pulled out his gun and fired several times as he started to ride away, but he missed every time. “Shit,” he spat as his heart pounded in his chest. He ran in the opposite direction toward his own bike parked in the shadows and he prayed to the Maker that he would reach you in time.

The sun was just starting to set the next day as you bid farewells to the others inside the brothel and stepped out back. You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath, savoring the fresh air as the sun warmed your skin. Turning to lock the door behind you, you faintly heard the sound of a motorcycle in the distance, but you didn’t think anything of it. Bikers came by almost daily, and you were confident that Din wouldn’t be back so soon.

Suddenly, a gloved hand clasped over your face, covering your mouth while another strong hand grabbed your arm and yanked you against a strong body. You tried to scream, but your cries were muffled by the hand over your mouth, and your struggles were useless since the stranger who grabbed you was bigger and stronger than you.

“You think you can tell your Mando fuckbuddy where to find us and get away with it? Huh?” a familiar voice sneered in your ear, “Well I’m going to make you pay for that, bitch!”

You gasped as you knew that voice: the vice president from the group that Din was after. The same one that you entertained at a party just a few days prior. Realizing just how dire your situation was, you failed your body and tried to fight back. But, he only laughed darkly at your attempts to free yourself.

But, just as quickly as his hands were on you, they were suddenly ripped away and you fell forward towards the door. Turning around, you saw Din’s figure blocking you from your attacker. He acted so fast, pulling out his gun and shooting the man twice in the head without a second thought. You gasped as you saw the blood pool underneath the other biker’s now lifeless body and your eyes went wide. It wasn’t until you heard your name in Din’s comforting voice that you pulled your eyes away.

“Hey,” he cupped your face and guided you to look into his helmet, “Don’t look,” he breathed your name again as he looked you over, “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

You looked at Din wide-eyed for several moments before you swallowed hard and shook your head, “No,” you whispered, “I’m… I’m ok… But Din…”

“Listen to me,” the urgency was clear in his voice, “Go back inside and stay there until I come back,” Din tightened his grip on you, “I have to get rid of the body. I’ll be back in one hour. Do not leave until I come for you. Ok?”

You nodded as you trembled in his grip, “Ok.”

Both of you knew why he had to act fast. The truce that Din himself helped to create to make the brothel a safe and neutral zone had just been violated. If anyone were to find out, it could be all out war between the MCs. But, none of that mattered to Din. He would break a thousand truces if it meant keeping you safe.

So many thoughts ran through your head as you sat inside waiting for Din to return. But, at the same time, the hour went by in an instant and before you knew it, he knocked at your door once more.

“You alright?” he asked again as he took your hand.

“Yeah…” your voice sounded vacant, as if you weren’t fully there.

“Come with me,” Din helped you up and led you to his bike, “I’m getting you out of here until we know it’s safe again. Here,” he handed you his spare helmet, “I’ll keep you safe.”

Your gaze dropped down to the helmet in his hand and for a moment you felt like you weren’t in your body. But, Din’s words kept you grounded and brought you back, “I know you will,” you replied as you slid it on and got on the back of his bike, wrapping your arms around his strong torso.

“Hold on,” he said over his shoulder before he took off.

The wind in your face wasn’t bitter, but calming. With each gust of air, you smelled the scent of his leather jacket and the warmth of his body remained a comfort for you as he drove you far away from the brothel. If it were any other circumstance, the bike ride would have been exhilarating, but the mix of emotions almost drowned out the excitement of finally getting to ride the bike with him. You buried your face in his board shoulder as he revved the bike to go faster down the long, winding road.

“We’re here,” Din shouted over the roar of his bike.

You looked up and saw a small house in the middle of nowhere. There wasn’t much to it, but you noticed a small pond in the front and a lot of trees surrounding it. It looked tucked away and hard to find, but it also felt warm and welcoming at the same time.

“Where are we?” you asked as Din helped you slip the helmet off.

“A safe house,” he said plainly as he led you inside.

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you took in the surroundings. The house wasn’t anything special, just a small kitchen and living space, with doors for a bathroom and 2 small bedrooms. But it felt comforting… and familiar. Not as if you’d been there before, but you knew who it belonged to…

“This is your house isn’t it?” you asked in a breathless tone.

Din turned to you and stared at you for a long moment, “Yeah,” his voice was just as soft, “Grogu likes to play in the pond outside… He’s good at catching frogs,” he tried to lighten the mood a bit. When you looked at him and smiled softly, it made his heart skip a beat.

“It feels like you,” you replied as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Are you cold?” Din sounded concerned as he pulled you close and guided you to the couch on the far end of the room.

“No… I’m not sure why I did that.” You felt nervous all of a sudden, like you did the first time you were alone with Din. Before you knew his name, and he knew yours. Something about being in his home made things feel different. You felt safe, that wasn’t the issue. What you weren’t sure about was what this meant for the two of you now. The way he didn’t hesitate to kill a man, to break a truce, to protect you. The way he held you so tenderly and let you into his home. It had to mean something…

“Hey,” Din said your name so sweetly as he cupped your face, “You’re safe here,” the resolve in his voice sent a shiver up your spine as he held you, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You swallowed hard as you looked at him wide eyed.

Din rubbed his thumb across your cheek as his own heart pounded in his chest, “Do you trust me?”

You looked into the darkness of his helmet and swore you saw his eyes looking back at you, “Yes,” you breathed without hesitation.

He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a bandana, something his people always kept in case their helmets came off, and gently rolled it before he brought it up to your eyes and securely fastened it.

“That ok?” his low voice felt louder in your ears as your sight was completely blocked.

“Yeah,” your voice trembled as you sat in the darkness and listened for his next movement.

Din slid his helmet off and set it down with a soft thud. He blinked his eyes to adjust to the soft light that the low sun illuminated the room with as you let out a deep breath. You looked so beautiful in the setting sun, and Din couldn’t help but reach out for you once more, tracing your face with his hands.

You gasped when you felt his breath on your face for the very first time. “Din…” you breathed as you reached out and clung to his leather jacket.

With a low murmur of your name, Din closed the gap between your faces with a deep and passionate kiss. You immediately parted your lips to allow him in, and the taste of his tongue on your made all the emotions you felt bubble to the surface and explode. He groaned into you as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in as close as possible while he explored your mouth. Din swallowed the whimper you let out as he kissed you even harder, allowing the kiss to voice all his unspoken feelings.

But, neither of you could stay locked together forever, and eventually you needed to break away for air. With a gasp, your chest rose and fell with deep breaths as you heard Din do the same. Without another word, he grabbed the back of your head and yanked you against him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. The leather of his jacket engulfed your senses and you rested against Din’s shoulder and settled into his arms.

“Listen… I…” Din started but stopped with a sigh as he struggled to find his words.

“Din?” you tried to push yourself up, but he kept you pinned against his broad, strong body.

“You can’t go until I tell you,” his voice wavered for the first time since you’d known him.

“What is it?” you asked in a whisper as you clung to his jacket.

“I was afraid,” he admitted with a sigh, “I… I didn’t know if I would get to you in time…” It was the first time in a long time something like this happened. The last time Din was this scared, Grogu had been taken to be used against him, and the rage he felt carried him until he got his kid back. It was a similar feeling to today, and it wasn’t something he ever wanted to feel again.

Before you could say anything though, Din continued, “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he brought his thoughts back to the present, “You and Grogu… You’re my world… You’re my everything,” he sighed, “I don’t know what I would do without either of you,” he paused as he felt you tighten your grip on him, “What I’m trying to say is…” Din let out a deep breath, “I love you.”

You choked back a sob as tears filled your eyes and dampened the bandana around your eyes, “Din…” you could’t believe the words you were hearing, but you also didn’t want to pinch yourself if you were dreaming, “I love you too,” you whispered.

Din responded by holding you even tighter, as if he couldn’t get you close enough. Having you here in his home, in his arms, was more than he could ask for. The two of you stayed like that until the sun completely set, leaving the world to be illuminated by the moon instead. And you looked even more beautiful in the light of the moon.

After some time, Din murmured in your ear, “Why don’t we go get the kid and bring him back home?”

“Home…” you echoed with a grin, “I like the sound of that.”

Din smiled against your face, and you felt the muscles in his cheek against yours, “I do too.”

Carefully, he slid his helmet back on and untied the bandana from your eyes, wiping away a stray tear as he did so. You blinked your eyes open and gave him the warmest smile as his hand cupped your jaw once more in his usual affectionate gesture.

“Want a ride?” he asked with a jovial tone in his voice.

You chuckled, “Yeah.”

Taking his hand, you went back to his bike and this time you both took your time setting onto it. You weren’t in a rush this time, and you could really appreciate the feeling of the motor beneath you and the strong, capable driver in front of you. Wrapping your arms around his waist again, you rested yourself on his shoulder, making yourself comfortable. Din touched the tip of his helmet against yours once before he revved the bike and took off. Together, the two of you flew down the road, towards your future.

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court-jobi · 1 year

Text

Trustfall

(gif from Pinterest)

Pairing: Din Djarin x biker!Reader

Words: 8,865

Rating: Teen & Up, (mature themes, but not graphic)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, chase scene action, catcalling, skeevey sleemos, brief descrip of injuries/roadburn, consensual touching, injury care, FEELINGS, fluff to intimacy, first kiss #thehelmetcomesoff ((fem reader, mild descriptions of features, hair etc.))

Summary: Most jobs' occupational hazards may include some warnings for heavy machinery: not 3rd degree roadburn and blaster shots to the face. Just your luck, that's what happens in your line of work.... While your partner-in-not-quite-crime Din Djarin has quite a bit of on-the-job experience with patching himself up after his skirmishes, tending to yourself after a shitshow like this is new territory. Some things are just too tender to see from behind the helmet-- and need the naked eye.

Sounds like he really needs to trust you if he's going to give you help with this one...

"I'm not going without you- -and you're not going alone" -P!nk, 2023

AN: thank you from the bottom of my heart, internet strangers, for the love for my little stories... this is a long one! here's to the countdown to season 3 finale, and a dose of feminine rage, badassery, and fluff to soften the landing~

For my Star Wars | Mandalorian Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

Anywhere in the galaxy you turn, there's a place you can navigate like the back of your hand: simply find where the drinks are flowing. Every watering hole may have its tricky language and even trickier problems, but the money's always good, and no questions are asked of you.

At a cantina, you rely on this. Here, you know you can easily fall back to old habits in an instant. Safety first, of course.

The rundown: where's the doors, where's the bouncers, where’s the barkeep and where's the biggest guy in the room. You've trained yourself to look for gaps, low traffic areas where you could make a quick dash out if things are looking sideways. Do all those things as fast as you can, too, because everything can change in a second. Tables can flip over like a credit chip– tempers, all the more quick to the draw. Oh, and don't be suspicious. Give a little smile if you can chance it– unassuming glances always make folks feel better.

But it's a bit different now. You don't bother to look up when you cross the threshold of a new place. You don't dissect all these fine details. After all, you've got a green baby that's twisting in his sling across your hips that has your attention split, and he comes first.

That's a full time job on its own… and whenever he comes along for the day, you don't forget the best part of the arrangement you find yourself in.

You've got a bounty hunter in stride. Worry is the furthest thing from your mind. He’s got you.

Upon first entry, the Mandalorian you've been hyperspace hopping with comes in like he'd likely done hundreds of times before. He's no stranger to reading a room, either. Though this time, with you and the little one tucked away in your crossbody, the company he keeps is completely different. This dynamic is far from your norm, but there’s so many things you love about it– and as it turns out, the feeling is mutual. He tells you so, that you don’t have to worry when he’s with you.

You buckled in the kiddo yourself– a break for Mando's still-tender shoulder. The scuffle you'd just come from not twelve hours ago was still fresh in both your minds– not that your sabacc face showed it. He appreciated your offering to keep tabs and hold him today. Still gotta fix his pod after the 'swimming incident' last week… after this payday, maybe you two could swing it after your winnings arrive.

Heading towards his unofficial corner of this planet's best underground lounge, Mando picked up through his peripherals the bits of chatter– no… -hunger- coming from some of the smaller pods of wranglers. Their attention wasn't due to the shinier beskar plates he wore. No, it was all aimed at his newfound companion.

They're all looking at you… not that you notice.

One in particular caught Mando’s honed attention as you neared, passing him to the bartop while he waited. The man wasn't the biggest in size, but Mando knew this type; that smarmy smile told him he’s thinking himself roguishly handsome, but made of complete slime and bantha-shit.

“Bike’s out back~” you paused by the bar to pick up the drink you’d nodded for, and made a convincing-looking fake sip while sticking close to his side. “-unregistered. Pokka dropped it off this morning for a nearby delivery run. It’s not the prettiest thing, but it’ll do in a pinch for a two-seater.”

Just after that line left your lips, something in the schmuck’s eye and his low murmur to his buddy. A near growl about the ‘not the only thing I'd pinch– pretty thing, coming right up’ made your partner turn with micro-precision in the direction of the smugglers–

–and catch your hand with a fierceness. Right in front of their table.

You're surprised by the sudden gesture.

When he did let go around the back of the row of booths, the Mandalorian more or less guided you by the small of your back instead. If anyone were invested enough past their drink's contents to be watching, they’d find you in a half embrace. This move allowed Mando the space to tuck you into his side with a corralling arm. You'd honestly not registered what he’d witnessed until he fell back to your pace with a gentle ‘this way’. A pod of spacers were gawking– at the shiny guy loaded to the gils with blasters, you thought.

Now closer, you had less room, but still managed enough to swing the munchkin to your front. The ‘bag’ made a little noise- an indignant question at your description of the ride you’d secured.

“Sorry, excuuuse me- three seater! Two and a half more like, with your size...”

Situating yourself with some disappointed looks your way, you took the near end of the bench Mando directed you to. Didn’t take much to know not to keep eye contact too long with any of these unsavory characters around you, so you kept to yourself. Once Mando slid in from the opposite side, you asked him,

"Quite the crowd huh?--oof–"-

Rather than allow the space for the little guy in between you, Mando slid in right beside you: an arm behind you and a small thud of his heavy fist on the table. The tracer clacked as it landed in front of him.

Someone's got him acting testy. You eyed your hunter as he brooded; a small twinkle flitted behind your eyes,

“See someone you know?" you asked.

"No." the Mandalorian spat out, curtly.

"Then what's wrong?"

His helmet turned to you, then ahead again.

"I didn't like how they were looking at you."

You bristled, really checking the room for the first time, managing the kid in your lap with a little glance. From the moment you took stock of the table nearest you, their quick darts in your direction told you just how rusty you were. They’re all locked onto you.

The whole point of your taking the kiddo for Mando was to seem less out of place, not a target.

“You don’t– think folks all the way out here are gonna go after him?” Nervousness flared in your voice, though for the sake of appearances, you didn't dare let it show on your face, “Who even reads the Imp notices anymore? This whole town’s a glorified farming dustball-”

Mando corrected you, “Not him.”

He murmured that into your shoulder like it was obvious.

A stunted breath tripped up your budding confusion.

"Well, if it's not the sight of a baby in a bar making them creep, what then?”

“You.”

Not for the first time, you checked the look of yourself. It’s what you faced from the reflection of the beskar cheek looking back at you when you addressed him– never his face, but yours. Then, to the room. Sure, you weren’t so rough-and-tough looking from the outside, but–

"..Hold on." Flatly, you turned towards him; a quarter turn from your cozy spot. "You're saying I'm the distraction here."

All you got in response was a little quirk of the helmet.

You bristled, “I’m not the only-”

“I know you’re not,” he hushed you again, still scanning his sights across the venue like a sentry camera, “but these bantha-breaths are all the same when it comes to- distractions.”

Your eyes fluttered in a muted roll. “And you think that’s new?”

“New to me.”

“Cmon. All this? You’ve gotten plenty of looks before.”

“Not the way they were watching you. The kid had nothing to do with it.”

You never take having such protective company for granted, but Mando's insinuation that you're bringing unwanted attention was surprising– and irritating.

“Please. You flatter me, I hardly think I’m the biggest draw in the room, hon.” you settled in. Harmless, but indignant, “You want me to really up the appeal? Then we should have planned ahead, and set up a rotation for me in the dance schedule.”

His gloves crackled at the creases– their grip unmistakable, “That’s an invitation for trouble.”

“No, messing with you is an invitation for trouble. I’m not trouble.”

“May not mean to, but you might cause us some.”

In truth, this observation wasn't unfounded; of the scarred, sweaty hunters and mechanics that filled this bar, you'd likely look out of place somewhere half this packed… and there’s no mistaking with the way you’re dressed that you are no fair-eyed performer like the real beauties in here. Sure your face under the visor shield might tell a different story when you appear more intimidating on the road, but here on this world, you passed over the need for even a

This was your job, and not your first time in this line of work. You wore the kit, you didn't strut or flaunt your stuff around, and you certainly never drank on the job either. Just looked and played the part you needed to. If he didn’t want you to come meet the contact, then why ask you to join him? The whole point of this plan was to be seen very publicly as a united front, so you wouldn't be suspected of funny business; even if that was going to be your specialty after you start phase two: divide and conquer, as you always do.

Plans change, sure– but only when things turn sideways… not when he’s got some alpha male jealous streak going on behind that bucket of his. That hand grab earlier proved it.

Mando just took centering deep breaths while you ran out of accommodating alternatives.

“Well, then, what do you want me to do?” the short candor that came out of your mouth wasn’t in your nature– but this was getting annoying, how short he’s acting. He’s not normally this snippy with you… “What, ‘wait by the tram’ till you come out, so I don't tinge that reputation of yours?”

The helm regarded you, then shook off– like he was redacting on the spot.

“I- didn't mean-”

And the backpedaling,

“-Fine.”

No use fighting for a place you shouldn't be in the first place, because it would only make his job more difficult. Feelings or not, you weren’t out to throw a wrench in the operation just for the sake of your involvement.

And even if your reason hadn’t won out, you sure weren't up for a soapbox moment either– despite its occupancy in your chest.

You unstrapped the kid from yourself and placed him in your spot,

“See ya in a bit, bud,” you laced a kindness into your voice- a sweetness just for him, “Maybe your dad will get his job done better without 'arm candy' throwing off his mojo."

Beelining it to the backdoor, you carried on steaming. You didn't bother looking back, which also meant you missed the Mandalorian’s lock on you the whole way across the rounded bar. Not that you had any doubts that he would be watching you; in fact, you counted on it. But you knew with even more certainty that he wouldn’t stop you. Not when there’s a job to do. You’re just going to set out on yours early.

Though you may not always see alike, there’s yet to be a final say that makes you not trust him so far. You’ll change the plan, call ‘plot twist’ and go right along with him.

Maybe one of these days he’ll begin to trust you at your word… do Mandalorians even do that with folks who aren’t their kind?

It's a job. A job you can do damn well. So, back to old habits it is. Keep the bike warm and ready for go-time.

In your retreat, you caught a comm from him. Just a blip and slight vibration that caught your attention on your wrist:

/be careful/

– and just like that, all the temper heating your neck and chest: shocked by a bucket of cold, graciously vigilant water.

Your Mandalorian couldn't resist.. and you really couldn't fault him for it.

You stopped at the door, slowing as the two words staring back at you made you come to a standstill. Checking back and finding that the man's brilliantly shiny helmet had indeed stayed tracked on you the whole time sent that pang in you alive and burning. A little breath huffed from your nose, but you didn't scowl at him.

It's just in his nature, he can't turn that off.

You looked back and nodded.

'I will'.

“Fancy seeing a livin' breathin' angel who knows her way around a rig~”

Outside, the smarmy man you'd missed noticing before made good on his interest in you and racked up his courage to act on it. He swaggered over to you by the open air skybike model you’d secured.

As aloof as he could seem, with that peacocking chest on full display…. He’d even set one of his holsters off to the side, a clear invitation for you to notice another package. Ugh.

“Vision a’ beauty in a dark, little corner like this, too…" he layered on the sugar,"Must be my lucky day, I tell ya!”

You weren’t having this pathetic attempt.

“Does this actually work on women…” You leveled your face.

Felt good, giving him a stare down before going back to your solid watch of the back door.

“C’mon now, pretty thing,” more swaggered steps towards you had your insides cringing– and had you moving ‘round the speeder to the mount side, “Couldn’t keep my eyes off’a ya in there– yer a stunner!”

And you don’t take a hint. “Not interested– I’m working.” Kept talking, too, like your words had just been a sneeze.

“Thought you was that bounty hunter’s girl, but ah-” he comically searched the perimeter of the garage, “--don't see ‘im nowhere.”

You scrolled through your wristcom, “If you did, I’d be sweating if I were you.”

“Got the hots for him, do ya? ‘R are you just friendly is all?”

It took every ounce within you not to react. Don’t give him fodder, just watch the door and keep a level head. Like he does.

You cursed yourself. Mando really did have the eyes of a hawk-bat inside. Meanwhile, you were getting rusty– or just far too comfortable.

Still, this moron was clearly set on poking the still-tender temper inside of you.

“Thinkin,” he made every move to sidle up to you, “I don’t have yer name, sweet’art- whaddthey call ya?”

“Look– I’m not here for my health. Buzz off.” You won’t be getting it.

And another step, to come lean on the front dash- “Right then– I get to guess. Sweetie, it is~”

Some sanity passed through your head, and you figured… the more you talk to this joker, the more he’ll try his luck. A hand on the palmbar, you revved the bike to full power; making your ‘Leech’ jump back, immediately floundering–

“Hey, hey, hey!!” and his sights roved over you, and in an instant, you equally revved his engines, “Ah, bit of fire in ya, huh? Like that in a bitch… Sure you know how to ride this beauty? or I can show you the ropes~”

You finally let your disgust show.

-and thank the Maker for the comm beep to save you. Your partner’s speech-to-text came through on your wrist tab,

//Making an exit//

//Which bay did you clear//

All too grateful, you typed back the number plastered on the overhead air systems installed above you.

It took a bite of your tongue to keep from writing back a fuller response:

/Listen to the sound of this skug-bag’s jaw hitting the floor- that’s where I’ll be/

but instead you mounted after a quick couple letter keys.

“Well, it’s been a not-so-lovely chat here,” you upturned your own helmet with a flourish, “But after the loss of these braincells I can never get back, I gotta run and make my pickup now.”

The man made a last attempt to lean in over your from the front handlebars,

“Nah, c’mon, gorgeous, I’ll make it worth your time real good. What’s the hurry? Sure there’s no harm in a bit a’ hooky?”

You laughed high in the back of your throat, giving gushy-sweetness back, with a side of ice–

“Not on your life, sleemo. Door to Hell is open, I hear.”

Then with the pop of your helmet on, you floored a fast reverse and drove off to leave him in the dust.

It almost occurred to you when you paused again to see what became of him, but you were shocked that he was in fact coming after you– with a gang of about four other men. Not that you could make out clearly what they were joshing about in the metallic hangar, but the slang they used about what features were hidden by your clothes was obvious…

The door you parked by remained silent when you rolled up; meaning you’d probably met Mando too soon. He likely wasn’t ‘a few moments away’ after all. And the gang who’s laughing so boisterous was nearing the exit ramp that would take them straight to you.

You tapped the wrist comm again, speaking directly.

“Got company out here too, Mando,” you firmed up, “Bit of nasty company if that makes a difference!”

In a blink’s time, the audio came back, blaster fire sparkling through the speaker,

“Same shits from the bar?”

You chortled, then answered clearly,

“Yup. Bold guys, up close.”

“I’ve got their buddies inside too.”

“Well kriffin’– do you need backup in there then?” Your slow reverse and frantic scooting along the floor looking for someplace inconspicuous -and quick- to hide your ride flew through your mind as you came up with plan ‘B’. “I’ll stash this, and lay lower inside.”

“No time– Take a lap– don’t stay where you are–” the Mandalorian blurted out.

You heard the rev of the gang’s engines as they idled around the exit ramp, “Or could you just put a rush on it? I’m already right here–”

“I’ll find you,” he stressed. “DO NOT engage them–”

But before you could snap back with–

“Guess you’re in need of a new boyfriend after all, Sweetie Pie!”

The crass voices appeared from above. While you’d slowed and chatted, they’d hopped the roof and made to bear down on you. The newcomers to the group, a couple Trandoshans and another Kel Door with a new retrofitted mask roved over you like you were a batch of Quarren hot-pot.

Oh, that blaster at your side was tempting… but you revved into top gear, and changed the route again.

Keep away it is. Just ‘till the boys show up.

In the end, you lose your seedy admirers after your third pass around. Touch and go driving proved in your favor, messing with their sloppy sense of acceleration with each lap around the back parking area. That was perhaps your saving grace– letting their inebriated states affect their pursuit instead of performing on the offensive– but it was short lived.

Your first chatty Leech gets a corner up on you and forces your trek on the inner wall, where the backdoors line the complex. At this stretch of buildings, there weren’t any more service ladders like where Mando was going to meet you.

Coincidentally, there were garbage units separating where that former landing zone was to where you are now. So when you skidded to a perfect stop, Leech rammed into the back and managed to jam his front end into the back of your second-seat attachment. Lovely. A flare of alarm chilled your back– feeling him far too close for comfort.

The blaster you carry is holsted between you- he’d see if you turned to grab it. You’ll have to slip down for your vibroblade if he tries to grab you.

And of course now is when he comes out of the far backdoor–

The Mandalorian burst from the firefight in the back door and -0ki whipped around the railing looking for you. The munchkin spots you first, and with your visor’s magnification, you see his smile- and subsequent squeal- which drags the Mandalorian’s attention to you.

From clear across the divide, his blaster raised and you leveled down with your handlebars: like he showed you.

“Hey now, friend! I was just returnin’ yer lovely thing to you!” the man’s voice flipped up several octaves in defense.

The maglock between your bikes activated, and he dragged you in reverse ever so slowly,

“Been runnin’ me and my crew like wild around the place. Been a fun chase- yeh must have yer hands full of this girl-”

Mando shot the man’s acceleration chamber till it hissed– stopping him in his tracks.

“You stay.”

You bashed the man’s face with a harsh elbow while his sights are down.

“YOU CRA-”, he recoiled with a bear swipe while you dismounted to try and fling him off– “--AH!”

But another shot grazed the man’s foot, making him slump onto his speeder.

He’s buying you time.

Running through your mental catalog, you risked the man’s pain-induced split focus to detach your bikes from his panel’s shortcuts– but didn’t miss the Mandalorian’s next shout,

“Touch her and you lose your head next.”

You smirked under your visor. He’s gonna take him out anyway, you just know it. Swinging your ride back around to where you can remount never felt so good.

Now, you really did try to avoid close calls like this as much as you can manage. But if nothing else, this run-in proved you could always learn a bit more, should spare reading up on grav separation, and maybe outrig yours a bit better when you get the chance…

A spared nod to the Mandalorian while you backed up– and his nod back– gave you the confirmation from the high ground that you needed.

From your angle down low, your helm didn’t have the scope for it. But Mando’s does; you’re cleared to run the gap.

Against the exasperated Leech’s expectations, you jumped it. Sure enough, when you landed, no more jeers followed. Only yells of surprise from the guy’s crew, who were screaming around his form laid flat on the ground, some to call for a extinguisher droid for the speeder fire, another calling out for a medic…

Under the railing where Mando stands, blaster shots chink off his backplate again, signaling him to get out of there. A perfect land later, Mando mounted behind you and wedged his foundling between the both of you.

“I take it you got it?” you asked, your modulated voice still perking up the Child’s ears.

He answered with arm wrapped tight your waist, “Got it. Drive.”

With the Mandalorian and the kid’s padded sling strapped tight to him, the three of you dipped off the ledge of the garage, leaving the bad vibes- and big paycheck -secured.

–However, there's a gap in the antigrav you don’t account for. Turning sharp back to the main road, you slip off a level, and wipe out. Happens so fast, you don’t even breathe– just feel a punch to the gut where the front end of the bike lurches back against you when you curl forward around it as it spins against the momentum.

The acceleration drones when it falls off kilter, the compressors go creepily silent, the metal plates grind against your eardrums, scrapes and crashes, and so do you.

The Child’s fine; if just a little dizzy when Mando curls away from his landed position behind you. Made of straight beskar steel everywhere it counts, he’s perfectly fine too.

You? Not so lucky… You can count on one hand the amount of times over the age of fifteen where you’ve had a messy landing– and this makes the top ten.

Crashing feking hurts. But you can still feel your legs; that’s good.

You rolled onto your back at Mando’s yell for you. He’s calling for you by name– louder and longer each time it leaves his vocoder– before you can reorganize your rattled brains enough to make any noise. A test of tilting your head proved you had range of motion. An adrenaline-high hand simply gave a thumbs up to him, even though your cheek burned.

White hot sting radiated across your face even when you chucked your helmet off with gasps of breath, as fiery steam and dribbles of blood were dangerously seeping close to your eyeline. From your good eye squinting to the side, you caught the remnants of your smoking, stolen ride spun out amongst some employee’s stash of speeders. So much for returning that poor two-and-a-half speeder back in one piece…

The Mandalorian led you out of the hangar with a steady hand on your back- for support, this time.

Even through the leather, you felt the pressure he gave as a buffer between you and any lingering watchers. Out in the bustle of a crowd should have provided a comforting white noise to be moving along in, fading into their routine existence through the foot traffic. But not this time; not with your ear still ringing and ears popping every time you swallow. Instead you were still shaking off the chills that creep sent when he was starting to block you in.

That hand on your back slid onto your waist, tucking you closer to him as you walked and merged with the crowd. Then, while your attentions moved to the booths, he slowed a bit and moved up to your arm.

"Are you alright?"

You lifted up, that soft tone a sharp contrast to what you’d just witnessed: as he made his threats and his kills like the hunter he was. It hadn't bothered you, in fact the protective nature of him made you feel slightly good.

You smiled and fell into his side. You didn't realized how tightly you'd crossed your arms over your fractured helmet. His touch alone- brief as it was- encouraged you to release the tension.

"Yeah... Thanks for that." You sunk a bit. With every breath, the adrenaline ebbed more and more from you, and your cheek stung.

You both could bicker about how you had it covered another time. When there was some distance between this incident, maybe, but thanks was due here. There was no game of ‘I told you so’ between you; it was unspoken- but the care won out over any personal beef.

Your ego is plenty bruised over having a wipeout in front of him. And yet, even as he'd brought you to your helmet, the first comment he made wasn't about how reckless you'd rounded that corner, or how you got yourself into a chase scene picking a petty fight…

Mando was by your side the instant your hand fell limp after your cheery hand signal, and said something about how this helmet saved your life. In the moment, you were just sad its visor shattered.

"Spent a lot of credits on the tint job…" you groaned.

"You're bleeding. From the head."

"Fine, fine," you waved him off, "I'll spring for substance and not style next time."

"Thank Ashla her humor's intact," Mando bemoaned to the Child. "C'mon, let's get you up and out of here."

"Ow, shit– that's gonna bruise… all down here, too.."

"I've got you."

He looked ahead and motioned with a little nod to the corner of the side street. Once under a pavilion cover he loosened his hold on completely in favor of facing you.

"I'm.. I'm sorry that happened."

"Yeah," you sighed back, "Wasn't the finest show of my skills. Even stellar have bad days too, see?"

"N-. Not that," he shook his head a little, "When I found you, out back."

You stood confused. "What, that a creep wanted to get in my pants? It's not the first time, and probably not the last."

What started as a quip in your voice turned more genuine as you admitted the truth,

"You uh… had that part right at the bar. How they're all the same, y'know."

He bristled, the turn of his helmet evident.

"That's happened to you before?"

You shrugged it off, a little surprised that he hadn't been privvy to that kind of scene.

"Just read the stats. It happens more often than folks care to admit, honey,” that sick feeling returned, the one that made even your toes lurch.The sourness of your memories made your broken helmet decidedly more interesting to look at, “Dregs say whatever they want in these parts, really anywhere from Mid-Rim out. Don't like being told 'no' for the most part either… It just depends on how far they'll go to try and ‘convince you’."

He really must be all business in establishments like that to never see those locales from another's perspective… But you grin back up at him while he stared speechless.

"...I haven't ever had someone come to my rescue before.." you admitted. "That was– welcome. Appreciated."

As expressionless as the helmet made him, the slight tip of the head spoke wonders for you. Mando's hand rose to catch your top wrist and rubbed his thumb against it– solidifying those feelings he didn't dare speak in public. Without any facial features to go on, you relied on these touches and read into every little thing: chipping up your chin is an encouragement, a pat on the shoulder is a quick ‘atta girl’ or ‘stay put’ depending on the situation. And this little hold on your wrist spoke equal wonders, a hidden language of care:

I’d do it again in a heartbeat, cyar’ika. Simply say the word, and it’s done.

Your pause was a quick one, and with no more words shared, he simply took claim of your hand, adjusted your fingers to work together, and led you back to the shipyard.

The Child would peek his head out now that the action was over. He’d crane and lean up at you both as much as his sling could afford him– though he was most interested in what sight was in front of him: your hands now fitting together like they belonged.

His buir was currently holding your hand, like he’s reached out to hold his own three fingered claw when they first met. He hoped this meant you'd stay, too. With his green-skinned hand, he could almost reach yours and add it to the pile.

......................................................................................................

The Mandalorian was quiet that night. The quiet itself was not unusual, no not that– setting a course and spending his time in the cockpit making the adjustments he wanted was a completely normal task for him. He always knew where to go, which route to plug into the navicomputer to coast comfortably in this hyperspace lane for the next few hours so he didn’t have to stay up there and babysit it. You left him to it; this brand of silence was nothing really out of the ordinary for him.

You thanked his strictly-taught discipline tonight. While he stayed busy, you were able to clean yourself up without an audience.

After an indulgent sonic shower by his insistence, you fiddled around in the small kitchenette. The domesticity, the residential feel you’d fostered on the ship piece by piece was a sharp contrast to how the bar made you feel. The security of this place; you fall back into the feeling of ‘home’ here everytime you come up the ramp. So far tonight, that’s meant heating up a few bean rolls, monitoring the data cells you’d comped from your intel, and watching the kiddo roll around that little knob he was always sneaking off with. The minute after you’d realize the twist top of the gearshift throttle in the cockpit was missing, you’d smile. What thievery, at such a young age… at least your pilot didn’t have need of it yet.

You shook your head and laughed when the Mandalorian sighed behind you– clearly finding it, too.

"What am I gonna do with you, pal..." He wrestled with himself more than anything- begging the odd baby for reason, and picked him off the floor.

After setting him on the crate, the Mandalorian came up to the side of the sink. You didn't move much from what you were doing, but looked up when he just stood there quietly for too long.

"--What's up?"

“Really need to clean that.”

At the nod, you knew what he meant– the split brow and cheekbone.

Your instincts flared- hedge away.

You fanned your face, “I was just getting him settled first. It’s clean, I was just letting it cool down a minute.”

Your name left his lips. Firm as steady morning rain, and in a similar hush. You didn't need to see what color they were to know they were set on you and only you.

“Look, it’s only this much, see?--AH! Oof, nevermind..”

At your cheek’s lift, the fire came back. The move brought a tear to sting your eye.

In a second, the Mandalorian came to your aid, a bracing hand on your waist as his hand cupped your chin to see the damage himself. He asked you to take another step towards the light, so you did. It seemed like he was tilting about a bit, even as he tested the touch around the roadburn. You winced at it each time- from both the poking and the bulb of the overhead glaring into your eyes.

“It’s pretty bad, huh.” you mumbled out.

Guilt came through the sigh as a little exhale. You barely caught it, but it struck you in the stomach. The night, its quiet, and the privacy of hyperspace allowed you to bring your favorite secret to your lips–

“How bad is it –Din?”

“I can’t see it too well.” Mando -by his true name- told you, a skosh gentler. “My scanner doesn’t always allow me to see the debris from the clotting clearly. Hard to tell,” he weakly let go of your chin.

“Damn,” you sniffed and looked about for the tabletop lantern back by the kiddo, “Do I need to get the handheld?”

Then, with a little look back to the hull where he sat occupying himself sleepily by the towel pile, your Mandalorian took maybe his largest risk ever:

“-I need you to close your eyes for me.”

“Huh?”

“I need to see it better. Need– you to close your eyes for me to do that.”

Realization punched you again. Made your ears prick– and gooseflesh chill you.

You can't let him do this... You know he would.

“We can get a medscanner, Din. It's not too late to stop somew-.”

“No,” he caught you again, “I can do it; need to do it. I just– I need to trust that you’re hearing me.”

It's less of an order and more of a curated ask, one that begged for assurance. This man would always do his best to help you– but you never imagined he'd go this far… what he's willing to do for you.

It's the most vulnerable request he'd ever made of you; a Mandalorian's trustfall.

Now? You took back every doubt you had in the bar about him. You looked him straight in the visor –while you still could.

“...I hear you, hon.”

It nodded back to you; just one, solemn motion.

“Okay. Come sit here.”

You obeyed and locked onto the sight of the child while the Mandalorian fell to a knee in front of you, then propped himself up on both to match. With prepped gauze and tools to extract the pebbley shards, you winced at the canister of bacta being shaken up in his palm. A gloved palm came to caress your thigh. It’s meant to soothe.

“It’s ok. Gonna get you taken care of.”

“Yeah,” you feigned a brave face.

But every nerve ending fluttered at its tips when you felt it: his now bare hand brushing your good cheek,

“Do not open them, please.” you heard him whisper in the helmet.

The already low-lit vision of the cabin fell dark at your will. And you nodded– any reaction of his, unseen.

With the latch release and depressurization, you knew the helmet was off. And without meaning to, your ears prickled at every breath, every swallow, every ounce of sound that man was making – now naked to the hallway of this ship.

“Okay,” a gentle baritone spoke in the air between you. It’s new, like a stranger. “Hm– looks like we’re out of the stim solution, I don’t have any numbing cartridges. But I have the wipe kind. Gonna do that first.”

You hummed your agreement, then immediately whimpered at the first dab.

The Mandalorian froze and detached.

“It’s just a wipe…”

“Tell my face that.” You cringed. “Sorry, juss' stings.”

“I know,” he soothed, “T’sgonna be alright. I’ll make it as quick as I can. There. Gonna get these pieces out now.”

He did work pretty quickly now that he’s out from the helmet. You barely felt the edge of his tweezers as they scooped the wedges of asphalt from that high point of your cheek where the visor of your headgear had shattered. Before you could hedge away from one particularly deep poke, you heard him speak again,

"I've been thinking about what you said earlier,” Mando peeped up from his quiet, “About... men who've said those things to you before."

You softened. Was he still thinking about it? That was hours ago.

"And.. I know I've said things like that. I just wanted you to know, I can't stomach the thought of you feeling that way. And I apologize if I have ever done so, even if you'd never said a word about it. If you want me to stop, I will."

Kriff, this man. You’d sooner lay across an electrode-fencing rig than ever make him stop. You sighed, and not simply from relief as you heard him switch tools.

He’s a man of few words, but not meaningless ones. The first compliment he ever paid you was about your fire- your heart, your will, and how strong you were and how you believed. Later when you had to doll up for that ridiculous undercover function, he finally spoke his mind in the moment and said you looked ‘stunning’. He calls you 'pretty thing' often; mostly when he's giving you a hard time. Truthfully he'd called you all sorts of things, both in Basic and not– which likely gave him this pang of guilt all the more.

But those endearments were just that: things that gave you joy, a peace and comfort with him. A sweet word here or there? It's born out of familiarity- the ease of tongue that comes with living in close quarters. The draw between you two is perfectly synchronous– it is an unexpected bond through bizarre shared experiences in an infinite galaxy that inevitably brought two rough-and-ready folks together and practically conjoined at the hip. To

Your Mandalorian is not a man without faults, but he'd never once made you feel filthy.

"Oh stars above, you sweet man.." you chuckled a little, wrenching your palms from your shirt hem and blindly batted up in the air to find his arm. "You've never made me feel like that. It's different when it comes from you. You know that, right?"

He huffed out of his nose. Relieved, if his trigger fingers were any indication as they tilted your cheek again,

"I didn't want to assume. You're always so collected. Talented, confident.. But you're– painfully polite."

You giggled at that. All of his touches that root you to the spot when you least expect them are anything but unwanted. Of course you were polite when he jumps the gun on grabbing you while out in traffic, or whipping a hand in front of you at a hard stop– but you've never once taken offense to that.

With a tentative reach, his fingers brushed the line of fine little curls by your ear, relishing in your smile at the touch.

"I don't just want you in safe places. I can’t always promise our adventures will grant us ideal jobs," In the dark, you envisioned his solid, pitch black visor giving a barely there shake… "But I want you to feel safe when you're with me."

You turned your head and kissed the palm of it.

"I do feel safe with you. You'd be the first to know if I wasn’t–NNGH!"

"Be still."

"Shit… m'working on it… this whole thing's new to me, y'know?" Your mouth wandered like your frantic mind, blitzed with stinging pain. "My visor's never shattered like that before," You clenched your fists against the picks made at your browline, "I just fill in the scuffs with some epoxy usually, but it's never broken like that. Frikkin’ hurt."

Mando hummed in sympathy and merely added, "Gotta fit you with some beskar one of these days."

"Oh, sure, for half my year's portion of – nehNGH!"

“Shh, I know. Last bit’s over. Just gonna clean it up before the spray.”

With a water’s dip and wrench out, Mando made a little cleansing exhale before dabbing over the whole area. Didn’t hurt as much of your face other than the center of the wound because of the sedative, but it certainly made your eyes squeeze shut. No worries of opening your eyes for a peek when it stung so badly.

Your gentle angel in beskar whispered a quiet ‘m’sorry’ for the repeated flare of pain. His nervousness was palpable, regardless of how confident he was at this job. A jostle of your leg at calf-height told you he was checking around for dry gauze.

“Almost done,” he cooed, “You want a break?”

You hummed and gave your pitiful nod to agree. The barest turn of your head caused little pops in it from craning so much. The pressure would take a while to dissipate and you know that when you open your eyes, they’ll be bloodshot. But the pain would be over soon.

Pleased enough to give you a minute, Mando released your chin in favor of brushing another bit of hair back. Due to taking your own helmet on and off so much, the wisps of curls were bouncier than normal like this, with just enough length to give you some fun bangs. You smirked with a tight-lipped smile, as you did not want to bother and pull your cheeks too much.

It’s kinda beautiful, this. Having this closeness, sharing in a horrible task but in the best of conditions imaginable– being cared for by the one you adored most. Who wouldn’t crave that when it’s what the heart screams for?

And with this new secret shared between you, this loophole in Din Djarin’s creed… this isn’t a moment you took lightly at all.

With a little shaky exhale of your own, you searched for his hand again in your bubble of darkness. Now, it met you fully–and linked your fingers together.

And then, what shocked you the most: steady fingers supported your jaw again, and a slight breeze to cool down your enflamed cheek rushed across your face.

Din is here. Kneeling before you and blowing on it– just for your comfort.

You welcomed the cooling flow; your brows showed it. Every ounce of tension left you while dragging heartache into its warm spot. Emotion flooded every corner of the body. It nearly hurt: how it compressed your chest into submission and brought loving tears behind your eyelids.

You didn’t deserve him.

“We’re almost there, sweetheart. Finish line,” he squeezed your hand before lifting it to his lips. He spoke gently to the fingers, "Keep those eyes closed for me."

"Promise." You squeezed them again, bracing yourself for the final burn.

And there it was– freezing and sealing all at once. A white, blinding sensation like what you’d feel from a lightsource turning on overhead, but all over your skin. Each pore was touched by the bacta’s strange magic without warning- and perhaps it was better that way to get it over with. Your breathing raced in that short time until the spray set, but you made sure to mute any noise with angry focus. Fighting the aftertaste, only a small moan eeked from you while the medicine reacted after your nurse had done his job covering the area. Darling thing, he even shielded the mist from getting directly into your eyes.

Mando's hands left you only to set its things down. This, only in favor, of cupping your face evenly to hold you still when they returned. They warmed what once felt so cold. His forehead met yours in a tender touch as your tears spilled over from the edge of your eyes. Not to worry, for his thumb wiped them up straight away.

Hair caught in every which way brushed along your slightly damp brow- his. Matched yours, in a way.

"All done.” his words danced just over your nose, “You can smack me away now, if you want."

You gave a wet little laugh as you settled into him. Slapping him is unthinkable to you. “Never.”

No, this was a perfect feeling that you’d never wish an end to. His caresses surpassed that of strict medicinal care and turned intimate, rendering your insides limp and on their way to healing already..

The urge to finally cry hit when you parted… when you felt his lips meet your unharmed cheek in a plush, hot kiss.

You whispered in reverence: Din. Desperation for ‘more, please Starborn, more’, an equal measure of shock had you squeezing his wrist, pinning him to you,

"Should– heh- sh-should you be doing that?"

He kissed you again. Again. Like he’s addicted to the touch, like it’s his favorite vice to pass the time; soft, loose, sighing up to your temple. You know he must be taking in this sight of you now, before the analytics of heat sensors block him from vivid color and dynamic shadows once the helmet returns.

"Probably not,” he admitted without true remorse– his voice turned soft and delicious, "But I've always wanted to. And right now, I can–" he pulled away at your forehead, "--Should I stop?"

"Oh, please don't stop–"

Your urgency, his delight. Mando chuckled, and kissed your forehead next: with such love from him, you could never doubt it. Enjoy this, honey. Take it all in.

The moment could have lasted forever. You'd about blindfold yourself for the rest of your life, for all you cared. If he just kept kissing you; lower, lower, lower–

–your lips fit against his, and you burst like a case of firewhiskey spirits poured on a flame. It engulfed you both, and he latched on– to burn right there with you.

Your hands flew to keep him close, fingers finding a hold through the whisps of his hair he kept short that curled in choppy, sweat-licked parts. He sighed so heavenly when you touched him skin to skin. And easy to please, it seems, since he matched you move for move– threading through your feather-soft waves like it was second nature for him to hold you so close.

Oxygen and a too-full heart demanded you part for a breath, your pulse going rapid fire in your throat.

“Thank you.”

“Thank me? Thank– I should be thanking you,” For caring, for the space to exist at his side, to have his loyalty in your back pocket and in your very soul, “For… everything today.”

“Nothing special about that. You thanked me already.” he said so with such frankness. “We have each other’s backs. We’re on each other’s sides. No, this–”

His shield dropped from your browline, replaced by his whisper over the lid of your eye–

“–this means everything, mesh’la.”

The honesty of this man wrecked you.

You found yourself pressing your forehead into the space by his neck to hide. Your Mando petted through your hair like a lovestruck man- desperate and wanting and content with every intention to keep you there for the rest of Time. By how this killer matched your breathy giggles, you had a clue that he wouldn't mind that idea.

"So," you broke the quiet with a small question, "is that what I can expect every time I get a punch to the face?"

Din huffed.

"You start poking around for trouble, we're going to have an entirely different problem on our hands,” he mumbled back hoarsely, “Don't you dare get any ideas."

“Even if they get me kisses?”

“Nothing’s worth you getting hurt, cyar’ika,” those indulgent lips pressed to your hairline before he reached down- to get his helmet.

At the lean, you panicked a second, and flung back again with a rush for him to wait.

At your word, he stilled for you to speak your peace. Happy lines greeted your fingertips as you caught the edge of his smile with a blind-man’s reach.

You fought through your elated headspace and begged, "One more?"

Praying to every heaven out there, you were blessed when Din graced your mouth again without any teasing. Kiss after kiss, you melted into each other in this place where nothing hurt– though who did the falling first, you genuinely didn't know.

Must have been a hell of a numbing wipe.

After breathless kisses later, stolen tokens as they were, you both felt and heard the Mandalorian shudder and he moan back,

"Gotta stop.." he flipped up the helm with expert precision. It found its home again with only another blip of static when the seal reanimated. "You can open your eyes now."

"Stop…" you managed your beating heart and blinked open your gaze, straight up to the reflected 'T'-shaped gap of his visor. The pupils that looked back at you were straight dilated. You asked out of the haze of your bliss, "Why ‘stop’?"

Still ungloved and with sleeves rolled up, the Mandalorian’s head lolled in a little shake.

"If I didn't stop right then," Mando caressed your good cheek, "Don't know if I ever would…"

"Would that be the worst?" You hoped for the chance again.

Mando sweetly answered,

"No.."

It was the kind answer he knew you wanted, to wish for more kisses from you. But he wasn't completely convinced. Not with that lilt in his voice that left a question to be answered.

He slipped a hand around your waist,

"No, I think.. if I never saw your eyes again, that would be the loss I'd suffer the most.”

Lucidity came back by the moment, your sense of confusion officially returned.

“See me? But you just did, for the first time, right?”

“Couldn’t see those pretty eyes though.”

“Well, tough.” you sassed, “Now you know how I feel.”

You tried to make it sound bossy, but the dig left your mouth too sleepily for him to take it. Behind the metal, his rough rush of static resounded his chuckle.

To further prove the point, you mimic the motion you do for your eye contact removal with a bright, goofy smile,

"It's just retinas, you know,” you shrugged, “Mine don't even work."

"Your loss is my gain, all the same." Mando fell back to only one knee again, to get comfortable at your level. "I'm almost glad we didn’t pass a med droid in town, or else…” he curled an arm around you again, “--this might not have happened any other way. I count your poor excuse for headgear as my blessing this time."

You glanced at what was left of your helmet, but fell into good humor with his warmth bringing you close again.

“You’ll be all too glad to see me walking around a beskar cyclehelm, won’t you? Gonna take a while to find that much to make one, if you’re serious.”

“Oh, I’m serious,” the helmet nodded, chipping your chin for a moment, “But we’ll manage until we source it. Always do.”

You’re still reeling over this; over what this means, him offering you the most prized form of protection. To give you comfort by shedding down to his most vulnerable state. The complete faith he has in you by doing so... It gave your nervous anxieties ballasts on all sides.

You’d keep your wits about you better next go round, so this doesn’t happen again… but you knew the word ‘partnership’ had a different meaning between you, from this night onward.

Din continued past your mind’s lovely spiral,

“You won’t need to worry about finding a better replacement before we head to Bespin with this package; we'll just let you heal. No sense pushing it.”

"Probably for the best, yeah," you nuzzled back, "I clearly have issues keeping a helmet on my head as it is."

The helmet giving you a kiss of its own shook side to side. That gesture all but begged ‘what am I going to do with you’.

"So we stick in our lanes for now?” you whispered your hope, “...Try my luck and steal chances whenever I can?"

Instead of a quick nod, the man who’d just kissed you senseless gave you a promise again,

"We can work something out."

#the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #this is self indulgent #din djarin is a sweetheart and a badass and i'll take no questions #it's a trustfall baby #close your eyes and leave it all behind #go where love is on our side #mando #mando x reader

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