#dindjarinxreader

[josephquinnswhore]

Walls Come Tumbling Down. Part 3

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader.

Summary: Things between you and Din had reached boiling point on your last mission, you're injured, and Din makes a moving confession, is it too late?

Word Count: 4.9k

Content Warning: reader is injured, typical mandalorian violence, unhinged reader tbh lol.

The dark armor was all you could see accompanied by those glowing red eyes of imperial dark troopers, impenetrable to your blaster and your allies' efforts to save Grogu from being taken from you by the plotting of Moff Gideon. Your eyebrows furrow in concentration, squinting as you aimed your weapon towards the sky, desperate not to give up. Din slapped the blaster out of your hands, and it landed to the ground with a thud, “stop. You’ll hit him!” Din remarks coldly. The dust stirring and settling in a fine line uncomfortably in your nostrils. Your allies watched on as grogu was transported away; unknowing of what were to become of him, anxiety clawed at your skin, the sun beaming down bore an unwelcome sting to your exposed skin. You wished you could save grogu, you wished you could scream at Din, alas your eyes sets its rage fueled target on a giant rock, the orange stone illuminating gold from the sun rays, the harshness of the rocks surface met your knuckles and boot covered feet as you attacked the rock violently, the fight you had left in you being absorbed by the giant stone, unaffected by your efforts. Blood trickled through your fingers from your bloodied knuckles, the repetition of force behind them made you wince, you were holding on by a thread, barely. Din’s hands grip your arm to face him, and your composure is lost; sadness and guilt bubbling to the surface to swallow you whole like it was an insatiable hunger needing to be fed. “Let go of me!” You spit venomously. Din complies and you fall to the ground, the crooked edge of the stone and your half-dried blood slid down your armor clad back. You rub your knuckles in an attempt to sooth them, the emotional pain fueling to the agony that stung your knuckles. Emptiness filled you, a void opening in your chest as if grogu was the only thing keeping you whole. Now he was gone, it was your fault.

A beskar helmet is all you see when you’re shaken awake, body in the grip of Din himself in his attempt to wake you from your night terror, plaguing your mind as you attempt to rest every evening. “Get dressed, we’ve got a long day ahead of us.” Din leaves you to wallow in your pity party alone, distancing himself in the weeks grogu was taken from you. You rubbed your knuckles, phantom pain leaving a deep ache behind as you caress the scars on your hands, not ready to face another day of living a nightmare that was currently your reality.

Your boots stomped heavily behind Boba’s, your feet nearly nudging the back of his own boots as you boarded an Imperial ship, intel you’d resourced led you and your allies to believe Dr Pershing would be on and that he would tell you directly where grogu was. The two men were outnumbered as Boba, yourself, Din and Fennec board the small ship, blasters pointed at the ready, aimed to fire. The action causes the men to raise their hands in submission, the Dr included. The man in the far back standing behind the Dr wraps an arm around the Drs throat, the other holding his blaster to his head, using him as a human shield, a negotiation. “Before you make a mistake, this is Dr Pershing.” The man cocked his head to the side, looking past Boba to get a look at you, recognition in his eyes.

"We've met, is the kid alive?" Din questions, trying to get his attention. "Yes. He’s on the cruiser." Pershing blurts out, in a desperate attempt to save himself, a plea for help. A loud gasp leaves the Dr’s mouth as the man turns the safety off with a click, furious at the Dr’s admission. You aim your gun and the man closest to you pleas, "I’m not with him. We can work something out." The fear left his eyes and were replaced with a lifeless dullness as his crew mate shot him in the back of the head, the desperate act of a man running out of choices, unwilling to surrender. “Drop the weapon or I’ll happily blow whatever remnants of a brain you have left, onto the windscreen.” You snap. The man’s confident façade momentarily cracked, his face dropping at the firmness and confidence you radiated.

"No. NO you listen to me," his voice wavered, his demeanour falling as you stood off with him, "this is a top-tier target of the new republic. This is a clone engineer. If they find out he’s dead because of you, you’re gonna wish the empire hadn’t spared your life." A humourless chuckle leaves your lips, something that Din can’t recognise as he turns to you, the darkness blossoming through your body and settling in the finger that hovered over the trigger of your blaster. "You think this is funny?" The man questions, a look of disbelief in his eyes. “The galaxy cheered as the rebels were destroyed, your parents included.” "I’ll give you one last chance to put the weapon down." Your voice is authoritative and sends a wave of doubt through the man’s body as you challenge him. He doesn’t back down. "Destroying your parents and the rest of the rebel scum was a small price to pay to rid the galaxy of terrorism." Not wanting to hear another word, your finger squeezed the trigger of your blaster, the rage inside you dissipating once his body fell to the floor of the ship lifelessly, the Dr screamed in terror as the blast skimmed past his head, narrowly avoiding him. An unrecognisable emotion plasters on your face, one that Din doesn’t like, he watched you as you walked away, boarding your ship he knew there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to rescue grogu, and it scared him of what you could become. "Smart talk got you nowhere in the end, Imperial scum." You mutter as you board your ship, the tainted smell of blood and smoke from your blaster firing, exiting your sense of smell.

You’d caught Din starring, you couldn’t count how many times, turning his head away hesitantly when you caught him. Neither of you willing to speak first, the stubbornness between you was pushing a giant wedge between the gap that was already there. There was nothing officially spoken or established between the two of you, Din taking off his gloves once didn’t grant you any title, you figured it came down to loneliness, the human need for physical touch, his rejection of you now stung you regardless. The distance Din placed between you had only reiterated your decision to leave his company once grogu was rescued and you knew he was safe.

As the ship landed, a giant dust cloud swirled around you, the dust coating your armour and hair in a thin layer, invading your nostrils threatening you to sneeze. The accompanied smell of smoke from a nearby power plant only made the itch in your nose more irritable and harder to ignore. The loud sound of ships whirring as they fly through the air was enough to distract you as you walk towards the small town into a bar behind Din and Boba. Judgemental and weary eyes watching you from every table, all conversation ceasing as you walk towards a table that sat; two women, wearing similar armour to the two men in front of you, helmets sat on the table in front of them. As you approach, the dark haired girl stands, the women with the red hair remains seated, unbothered.

"I need your help," Din states simply, demanding their compliance.

"Not all Mandalorian’s are bounty hunters." The woman with the short red hair quipped with a smirk, declining Dins proposition. "Some of us serve a higher purpose." You snort silently out of your mouth, not going unnoticed by the two women at the table. "They took the child." Din pleas with them. Her face softens for a mere second, of curiosity she questions, "Who?" "Moff Giddeon." She scoffs and shakes her head, "You’ll never find him." Boba turns to Din, "We don’t need these two, come on. Lets get outta here."

Your eyes remained focused on the two women, observing them for any threat they may produce, they turn to face Boba and state, "You are not a Mandalorian." You scoff at the hypocrisy and mutter, "Oh please." The dark haired woman on the left gasps, "so your pet speaks." "Pet?" You scowl and try to barge through Boba and Din in front of you, Boba holding one arm out to stop you from murdering her in the middle of town, your fuse as short as it’s ever been since grogu’s kidnapping. Din couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on Boba's arm restraining your body, the touch setting something alight inside of him and settling in his chest with an uncomfortable ache. It was no secret that you and Boba had become good friends over the weeks, Din had developed insecurities that stemmed from your newfound friendship. Boba’s nickname for you stuck to the walls of Din’s brain like a disease, reminding him of his failure when it came to you. Nimerah he would call you, several meanings of strength, power and beauty.

She raised her eyebrows, "I didn’t know sidekicks were allowed to talk." Boba chuckles, "I wouldn’t provoke her, shes more capable than she looks." The woman sneered in disbelief, watching your face, your eyes unwavering in a stare for dominance, "shes as harmless as a dog." Din turns to you and you’re seething, he can almost feel the heat radiating off your body, "Woof." You spit unamused. Din has to bite his lip under his helmet to stop himself from laughing in this tense situation, not needing to escalate this further.

"See, harmless pet." She confirms, you barge past the two armoured men, leaving your blaster to rest on your hip, deciding you would find more satisfaction in watching the life leave her eyes with your hands wrapped around her throat. The woman flinched at you lurching forward, regaining her composure to meet you eye to eye. "Come now, Nimerah. Accompany Fennec back at the ship and make sure the prisoner is detained securely." You stare at the women a second longer before you spit at her feet, wiping your mouth with your wrist, nodding to Boba as you turn to exit the building completely ignoring Din as he watched you exit.

Din could feel something clench around his heart, the safety within the confines of his armour preventing no such ache as he watched the interaction between Boba and you. Silently wishing he had never pushed you away, wished he hadn’t pushed you into Boba’s arms, this is what was happening, wasn’t it? You make it to the ship within minutes and Fennec senses your frustration before she sees you, the Dr still in shackles, sitting compliantly, you know Boba didn’t send you here to check the security of your prisoner, he wouldn’t doubt his second hand, he was looking out for you. "What happened with you?" Fennec questions sincerely. "These women down at the bar, calling me Boba’s pet." You confess bitterly, the thought that outsiders believed you were with Boba and not Din, maybe Boba would have a place for you beside Fennec when Grogu was rescued. "They’re handling it." You add and met with Fennec raising one eyebrow at you.

"Cheer up, kid. If anything you’d be my pet." She states jokingly trying to lighten the mood, succeeding in her efforts as a smile cracked on your lips, you and Fennec had become close and it was becoming obvious she knew how to cheer you up.

Multiple sets of footsteps board the ship, causing you and Fennec to arm yourselves with your blasters, ready to fight whoever had entered the ship. Bulky shadows casting through the ship as you’re met with Din and Boba, behind the two women from the bar followed them hesitantly.

"You have got to be kidding me." You hiss, arm not wavering in pointing your loaded weapon at the women. "They’re here to help us." Din argues, expecting you to lower your weapon. “Lower your weapon, Nimerah.” Your chest heaves in frustration but obey Boba’s command, Fennec eyes you as she lowers her own weapon. "Say a goddamn word to me and I’ll put one right between your eyes." You turn on the safety of your blaster and mimic a blast being fired with your hand pointing at them, mouthing 'pew.’ Dins stare never leaving your own, wondering why you were so quick to act when Boba commanded, you situated yourself beside the prisoner, clipping your blaster back onto your belt.

The red haired woman who had introduced herself as Bo Katan, took a seat in front of you, supplying a projection of Moff Gideon’s cruiser lighting up the dark room of the ship in a blue hue. "This is Moff Gideon’s Imperial light cruiser. In the old days, it would carry a crew of several hundred. Now it operates with a tiny fraction of that." The doctor interrupts. "Your assessment is misleading.” "Oh great, an objective opinion." You scoff. The Dr turns to you from beside you, eyes meeting yours behind his tinted glasses, "this isn’t subterfuge. I assure you."

Bo Katan puts her hand up to silence further commentary from you, causing your lip to curl in distaste. "Let him speak." Eyes all turned to him, "theres a garrison of dark troopers on board. They’re the ones who abducted the child." Your mind immediately wandered to when Grogu was taken, the half a dozen metallic dark grey suits of the dark troopers, the red eyes glowing in the daylight sent a shiver down your spine, fighting them off was useless as they took the child without any disturbance. Din takes a few steps forward so he’s standing next to where you’re seated. His boot hitting yours lightly bought you back to reality, his head slightly cocked to the side watching you. You crinkle your nose and sniffle to yourself. "I’m fine." The lie escapes your lips quietly, unnoticed by others and although he notices, he doesn’t argue. "How many troopers do they have armed in those suits?" Din steps froward to get a better look at the ships projection, questioning the Dr. "These are third-generation design. They are no longer suits. The human inside was the final weakness to be solved. They’re droids."

Din turns to you and you scoff, sinking further into the brown seat with your hands in your head, feeling defeated. "Wheres the child being held?" Din looks at the projection intently, the image whirrs and a new image is shown. "This is the bridge, he’s being held here under armed guard." "Very well. well split into two parties." Bo Katan states, accepting his explanation. "I go alone." Din states firmly. "Fine." Bo Katan agrees, looking back towards the image, you stare forward watching Din, the blue lights reflecting off his beskar, illuminating it. He was going alone, this is a suicide mission. You knew he would lay his life down for Grogu, that it was worth the sacrifice. It didn’t stop the dull ache that stung your heart as you thought of the probability he made it out alive with the dark troopers standing against him. "Koska, Fennec, y/n and myself disembark with maximum initiative. Once we’ve neutralised the launch bay, we make our way through these tandem decks, in a penetration manoeuvre." "And me?" Din questions and Bo Katan continues, "We'll be misdirection. Once we draw a crowd, you slip through the shadows, get the kid." Din turns to you, a seed of doubt being planted in his mind that you would be able to focus, at least long enough to not get killed. You ponder if you could trust that Bo Katan had Din’s best chances of success in her interest.

"This mission is gonna be a real skank in the scud pie." You mumble, eying Din. "We'll meet at the bridge." He nods his head, looking at you. I’ll meet you there.

How right you were about this mission being a skank in the scud pie.

Infiltrating the cruiser was easy enough, yourself and the women took down the storm troopers that surrounded your crash landed ship with ease, they were terrible a shot and were taken down with a single blast to the head easily avoiding any real conflict. The hardest part of it all was leaving Din to himself in the ship and stirred an array of emotions within you, causing a silent battle with yourself to stay focused. "Its a little too clear, keep your eyes open." Bo Katan states, you settle your red-hot weapon in front of you, walking behind Bo Katan and Koska, the beskar clanging against the floor of the hallway with a loud echo, so much for subtlety. Storm troopers filled the entrance of your pathway and began firing, you and Fennec stand your ground and begin firing, Bo Katan and Koska rolling out of the way and diving off the elevated pathway. The troopers dropped lifelessly to the floor as you and Fennec clear the hallway with ease.

"Freeze. Drop your weapons." You and Fennec stopped in your tracks, turning to each other as you saw in your peripheral vision how many storm troopers were behind you. They outnumbered you easily, and they ideally had the upper hand in terms of position, but you weren’t deterred. “Sector four, hold your position." One troop from the front line reports. You turn to face them, preparing to sacrifice your life fighting, it felt like a dramatic thought when Bo Katan and Koska flew up with their jetpacks, spitting bright flames and firing at the troopers, sparks flying off their armour, doing nothing to protect them as they collapse in defeat, dead. The two land behind you and you smirk, not bad.

Pushing forward you begin to run, turning the corner immediately to your right. Your mind cant help but wonder to think of Din, if he was okay-alive. He infiltrated your brain and the thought of him being outnumbered and- he could take care of himself, you knew he could. He was more than capable, you’d be honoured to die for him in battle, he was a great warrior. You came to a storage room, the large black plastic crates stacked on top of another, the stale smell of dust and musk filling your nostrils and creating an itch you desperately wished you could scratch.

"Cover me." Fennec states to Bo Katan and they nod, you go around the left side of the crates, troopers step out from their hiding positions and began shooting at you, you start firing your blaster at them and take down two within seconds of the ambush. Diving to attempt to roll for cover behind a nearby crate was a decision you’d come to regret as the blaster shot hit you, your right shoulder searing in pain, your skin wet with blood around your shattered shoulder armour plate, you grit your teeth and shoot the trooper as he rounds the corner, your body half lying-half sitting with your free hand holding your shoulder. "Damnit." You mutter and stand up, meeting up with the others who had taken out the other troopers in the room, clearing the area.

The agonising pain in your shoulder became harder to ignore as you’re surrounded once again, troopers seemingly never ending. Your blaster jams and you grunt loudly trying to get it unstuck, "my guns jammed," you grunt, "Ill cover you." Fennec confirms as she covers you. A pained grunt leaves your lips frustration playing a part in your irrational decision to use your gun to knock the troopers to the ground while Fennec shoots them. Your shoulder burns at the sudden jerking movement of your arms only provoked the wound to bleed more, the blood soaking through your clothes down your ribs. Your armour glistened with blood under the white lights in the hallways.

"Thanks." You praise Fennec breathlessly, turning away from her, shielding your wound and running into the elevator. "You’ve been hit." Bo Katan points at you, the blood is running down your bare forearms, you quickly wipe it away with your hand and your face contorts in pain. "It’s just a surface wound." You lie, "y/n," Fennec starts but you raise your hand to silence her. "We knew the risks coming into this." You affirm harshly, "I’m not stopping until I’m dead or the damn child is safe." You grunt, chest heaving from the array of words you managed to speak out loud, the adrenaline fuelling your body and determination to find Grogu. "Okay. if you say you’re fine, then you’re fine." Fennec says, agreeing, knowing it would do no good to argue.

You continue to fumble with your jammed gun, wincing at the pinching ache of your shoulder, "dank farrik." You spit through gritted teeth, gaining attention of your allies. "Son of a mudscuffer." You grunt, your hands wrestling with the blaster. "Are you sure you don’t need any help?" Bo Katan offers, you grunt in frustration and slam the blaster on the floor of the elevator with both hands and the blaster finally powers up. You sigh in relief, "I think that did it." Weapon pointed towards the opening elevator door, you ignore the warning of the troopers to stop and surrender, shooting them down without remorse or second thought. The seething pain only fuelled you, controlling your actions as you attempt to push behind the physical and mental ache this mission has caused you over the weeks.

Rushing forward, your legs carry you faster than the others as you’re desperate to breach the bridge, blasting the troopers that occupied the room, their grunts of defeat were deafening as they fall to the ground, their armour clanking against the hard steel floor. Koska disarms the weapons system as the last of the crew were shot. "Wheres Gideon?" Bo Katan questions, the question hanging in the air, no one could give her an answer.

Searching the room frantically, you’re pulling the chairs from the desks, squatting down and racing around too quick for your legs to compute, your legs almost giving out on you. "Wheres grogu?" You panic, for the first time on this mission, your allies could see your composure crumbling, your inhibitions to keep this facade up-kept flew away with the adrenaline as you realised he wasn’t here. "No. No. No." You scream, your chest rising with conviction and body slumped on a chair, dropping your gun which met the floor with a clank. Gripping the wound on your shoulder you wince at the ache that spread from your shoulder to your arm and back.

"It was all for nothing." You sigh defeatedly, the child nowhere in sight and no sign of Din to show that he had made it through alive. Fennec walked up to you, placing a hand on your un - injured shoulder and pats it softly, bringing you a silent comfort. "They’ll meet us here, let me wrap this up while were waiting."

You nod, a silent thank you as she detaches the remains of your useless shoulder piece of armour thats mostly shattered, ripping a segment of her own long sleeve shirt to wrap around your shoulder in an attempt to stop the bleeding, all it did was soak up what was saturating your burning skin and provide a slight illusion of weightlessness, relieving some of the ache in your back.

A whoosh is heard from the door as it opens to the bridge and moments later and Din enters, Grogu in hand and Moff Gideon in cuffs, grovelling as Din pushes his further into the room. Din looks at your body as you stagger to stand, a piece of your armour missing and an injury on your shoulder weeping through the rag that kept blood from spilling onto the floor beneath your feet. "You two made it," you murmur in relief at the safety of them both. "What happened?" Bo Katan questions Din as he walks in wielding a black sword, a white glow surrounding it as it hummed. The sight of seeing Din wield such a weapon had your heart beating in your throat, Fennec sent you a look and the heat flushed as the redness of blush crawled up your neck. If anyone would as, you would blame the blood loss.

"He brought him in alive, thats what happened." You state, Bo Katan’s eyes widening at the sight. "And now the New Republic's gonna have to double the payment." You say firmly as you walk up to Din and grogu, smiling as he cooed at you, making grabby hands at you, without hesitation you pick him up, holding him to your chest. Hearing grogu whimper, you pull back and he points to your shoulder which Din is starring at, "I know buddy, I’ll be fine." Din knew you were lying with the way your voice wavered, your body’s weakening state concerned him immensely.

"Thats not what shes talking about." Moff butts in, everyone turns to him in confusion, he turns to Bo Katan with a smirk, "why don’t you kill him now and take it?" He teases. You push Moff to the ground and stand pathetically half-slumped in front of Din, creating a space between them, a caution warning, as long as you were standing she would have to go through you. Bo Katan eyed the sword, seemingly considering if it were worth the effort to start this battle. "Its yours now." Moff laughs from the floor. "What is?" Din questions from behind you, stepping to your side protectively. "The Darksaber. It belongs to you." You look at the weapon in Dins hand, glowing fiercely before Din retracts the blade.

He steps forward in front of Bo Katan and offers the weapon. "Now it belongs to her." The woman refused to take the weapon, "She cant take it, it must be won in battle." Moff chuckles from beside them, instigating Bo Katan to start a battle with Din. Anxiety creeps upward in your chest as you watch on hopelessly, holding the child in your arms.

"In order for her to wield the Darksaber again, she would need to defeat you in combat." Moff looking between the two, Din offers the Darksaber again, "I yield. It’s yours." "Oh, no." Moff chuckles, a stupid grin on his face, "It doesn’t work that way," he states, standing to his feet.

You snap, your body’s strength withering, frustration of the threats towards Din had dark thoughts consume your mind. “Enough of this. You thrive off people’s misery Gideon, I’ve had enough.” You place the child on a nearby chair, turning him away from the scene you’re causing. You kick Gideon’s knees, and he falls to the floor, reaching for your blaster you point it at him, “wait, wait, wait,” he puts his cuffed hands up in surrender, the others watching you with wide eyes. “We’re letting him go. Put the blaster away.” Din pleas with you, his voice sweeter than nectar as he speaks to you. “He doesn’t deserve to live.” You conclude, the conviction in your voice worried Din, you’d become ruthless in your efforts to rescue Grogu, he didn’t recognize you and guilt swirled around him as he wondered if he had a part to play. “We can walk away from this. We can leave.” Please come with us. With me.

Your heart races, thundering like a thousand horses, weakness causing your arm to drop as the weight of the gun, and Din’s words suddenly became too much.

“We’ll handle him, take the child and go.” Bo Katan advises, “you’re an admirable warrior Nimerah, the name suits you well.” You give a curt nod her way and begin to make your way to the hangar Fennec contacts Boba and he’s prepared you for boarding within a parsec. Fennec struggles to hold you upright as your body begins to slump, the blood loss making you drowsy, your eyes dropping and the color falling from your face. Boba assist you to lie down in his cot where you fall down onto it, your eyes blur as tears fills your waterline, limbs shaking as you go into shock, a coldness nipping at your limbs as your body burns up simultaneously. “Come on Nimerah, gonna fix you up, just stay awake.” Boba becomes a puddled blur of colors as your eyes flutter, your body begging for them to close for some rest, exhaustion overcomes you and you can only think of one thing, “need Din, please.” Din hears your weak voice and the way you whimper his name has him sat by your side without hesitation. “I’ll get the medi pack.” Boba hurries. Din removes his gloves to expose his cold hands, the coolness on your forehead provided some relief as he checked your temperature. “You’re burning up.” Your body begins to shiver and your lips chatter in disagreement, “help me Din, I don’t want to die.” You sob, tears falling freely down your red cheeks made Dins heart swell. “Keep your eyes open cyar'ika.” You mumble incoherently and it sends panic coursing through him as your eyes begin to close, he shakes you gently and finds the pulse point on your neck, feeling the weakened thrumming of your heartbeat his cool fingers sending goosebumps down your neck. His other hand strokes your hair, tucking a stray piece behind your ear. “You have to make it. Yooba solus ner aliit.” You are my family.

[beskarinhyperspace]

Can’t Change My Mind  

A challenge you feel worthy of pursuing  

AO3 | Wattpad // MASTERLIST

*Mature, Explicit, NSFW*

Din djarin x fem.reader

Summary: You already have a established romantic relationship with Djarin.   

Word Count:  1.6k 

A/N: This is pure smut, also my first here. Soo enjoy !

"You’re the one who told me I could go!” You say, not understanding why he’s mad.  

Looking at you to his left while passes you. “I swear, you’re gonna be the end of me. If I knew, I would’ve left earlier so you wouldn’t have been able to follow me.”  

“I thought we were a team!” Starting to be angry, staring with your eyebrows frowned.  

He stops in his movements, now looking at you. You always feel uneasy when he does that. Not really knowing what he’s thinking about or even what he’s going to do. 

“Cyare,  I can’t risk losing you again. Last time I swear, I..” He turns his gaze to the floor, lost for words as he revisits the last time you almost got killed. He got so angry, he shot both man on sight without blinking.   

Feeling a little guilty, you approach him slowly. ��I’m sorry, I truly am.” Passing your fingers slowly on his chest you breathe in his neck. Talking gently and softly against his skin, “Is there a way I can redeem myself?” looking into his T visor with sultry eyes.  

His breathing stops as you can feel the tension rising in his chest. He tilts his head slightly to look at you. “Stop playing games. I’m not in the mood.” he says plainly.  

With an amused smile, your eyes going down to his chest. “Who says I'm playing?”  

He sighs as he moves away. “I'm going to get ready for sleep.. You should do the same, otherwise, you’ll be tired tomorrow when we arrive on coruscant.” On that, he climbs the ladder to inside cockpit.  

You left out a deep blow of air, pouting your lips out. Maybe I can convince him..  

__  

While he’s in the cockpit, you went into the fresher to take a quick shower. The soap getting thicker and creamier on your breast. And just like that you're turned on again. He can’t refuse me. I know he wants it just as badly as I do.  

Taking the towel to dry yourself up, you can hear him in the kitchen searching through the cabinets. A mischievous smile takes shape at the corner of your lips. Getting out quickly, you make sure not to make too much noise. Standing behind him, you press your chest against him. 

 “Are you naked?” He asks.  

“What if I am?” you respond with your playful voice.  

He turns around, “I told you to get ready for sleep. I’m still angry. You won’t change my mind. I'm not in the mood.” as he walks away to the fresher himself.  

You look at his back defeated throwing yourself in bed and landing on your back. You can hear the continuous water running in the background.  

Well, if it’s this way then..  

Passing your fingers lightly over the skin of your thighs. You close your eyes, feeling the need intensifying inside you. Passing them slowly on your hips and bellybutton, moving upwards. You caress the bottom of your breasts moving up the nipple which are already getting harder by touch and cold air coming from the ship. Your breathing stops ever so slightly, taking your other hand to pinch one of them.   

Your breathing starts to accelerate as you continue to take a hand upwards putting your index finger into your mouth, wetting it with your tongue going quickly downwards, you start to coat your clit with the slick of your fingers, turning them in circles over it.   

You’re so focused on your pleasure, you don’t even notice that the Mandalorian is out the fresher. Looking at you pleasuring yourself with one hand pinching your nipple and the other one moving on your clit.  

He stares without a noise, although seeing you whimper makes him growl, pressing a hand on his now harden cock.   

At the sound of him, you notice his presence opening your eyes to the ceiling as the room gets darker.  

Your blood starts to run cold, feeling you’re in trouble but he comes closer, hovering over you.  

“Playing without me cyar’ika?” He states starting to kiss your neck.  

Little whimpers are getting out of your chest, “I thought I couldn’t change your mind.”  

“I’m sorry cyare, I know I reacted a bit much. I just, I love you so much ner kar’ta.” Passing his tongue flat over your pulse point. “Let me make it up to you.”  

Moving slowly downwards he grabs one of your nipples with his mouth. Grunting low as he sucks and tries to put as much of it in his mouth. Grabbing and squeezing you other tit in the meantime.  

You can't help but push your chest forward, presenting yourself to him. The movement makes him feral. Taking both and squeezing them together. Passing his tongue over and over each of them. The lightning feeling rises in between your legs.   

He stops a moment, trying to catch his breath. “Omg cyare you’re so perfect. I'd eat these tits all..” Before humming while he goes back to suck on them one after the other. Switching between flickering and sucking them.  

“Urrgh maker, can I, can I feel you? Please I need to feel you baby.” begging you. 

“Yes, please, anything, anything you want.” You say voice breaking.  

Through the dark you can hear him let out a little chuckle. Letting your nipple slide out of his lips. He goes lower, leaving a trail of kisses on your body along the way. From under your breast, to your stomach, to your thigh.. You feel him take both of your legs, holding them up leaning down. Letting his tongue flat from your very rear, passing agonizing slow over your entrance and clit.   

You start to shake with anticipation as you feel the grin from his moustache over your skin.  

“You’re sounds are addicting love. Let me hear those moans while you say my name sweet girl.” Before going back to tease your entrance with his tongue.  

You can feel the burning in your stomach as he goes lower to press his tongue teasing over your asshole.   

“Djarin, please maker." You can’t control your breathing or your moans at this point.   

Which only encourages him to move it faster, altering between licking it with the tip of his tongue and spreading it flat over it.  

Your cries becomes louder and he can’t take it anymore. Pushing himself up spreading your knees. He takes a finger teasing your entrance.  

Feeling your juices on him, “Kriffing hell cyare, you’re so pretty, so perfect, so wet for me.” You can hear him touch himself with your wetness before passing the tip of his cock in between your folds. “Can you feel that baby? How hard you make me? How much control you have over me? Huh, can you feel that?” as he pushes the tip slowly in.   

Taking his time enjoying you, shaking under him. Moving closer to you, he anchors his arms on the sides of your head. Letting you adjust to his length and girth. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, I love you” as he goes down to your lips to kiss you gently. Pushing slowly in. You can feel the muscles of his chest and stomach contracting as he’s picking up the rhythm.  

You can’t stop the noise and words coming out of you. “I love you Djarin. You feel so good inside of me. You fill me up so well.”  

He kisses you stronger as he’s breathing harder, pushing his tongue deeper into your mouth. Tasting your sweet spit as he prepares himself for release.   

You cross your legs on his lower back, felling him hitting that good spot over and over again. He goes to put your right nipple in his mouth sucking on it and you can’t control it anymore, letting a whimpering cry.  

“That’s it, come for me cyare. Come for me, c’mon baby.” He says has his other hand grabs a hold of your hip.  

You can hear his noises of satisfaction as he hears you come undone for him. Releasing your breast moving to squeeze the other one as he thrust harder inside of you. He feels you tightening around him from the pleasure. He moves to grab both of your legs as he continues to pound into you. Letting out a full grunting scream out as comes inside you. Trying to calm himself down, he comes to lay on your side, putting his arms around you.  

“Maker, I love you so much. Please forgive me for earlier. I just want to keep you safe.” asking you in between breaths. 

You smile to him in the dark, placing a single kiss on his chin. “You’re already forgiven.”   

As you’re holding each other, you tell yourself that there’s nothing better in the galaxy than this right now. 

[lilzebub]

Vacations and Vows

Thanks @thegildedquill for the prompt for the Mando’a Challenge! Had a blast writing this one, obviously, since it almost hit 7k LOL. Mando x reader Summary:  The Mandalorian meets a ruthless failed Jedi, who somehow manages to navigate the intricacies of the man beneath the beskar.  He whisks her away on vacation to pose a very important question that’s been weighing heavy on him.

Prompt: Gett’se (nuts, or brave)

Word count: 6.9K

Warnings:  Mandalorian typical violence, minor description of injuries, some season 1 spoilers.

Thanks @thegildedquill​ for the Mando’a Challenge! Summary:  The Mandalorian meets a ruthless failed Jedi, who somehow navigates through the intricacies of the man beneath the beskar.

Prompt: “gett’se”, Mando’a word for ‘courage’, ‘nerve’ or ‘nuts’ (generic) Word count: 6.9K

Warnings: Mandalorian typical violence, light mentions of injuries, season 1 spoilers

“What’s wrong?” The deep voice from the captain’s chair jarred her from her thoughts: not only from the sudden, almost deafening onset of sound in the otherwise silent cockpit, but his sporadic initiation of conversation. She wasn’t entirely sure how long she’d been staring out into the black void of space that laid before the ship. Ten minutes? Maybe twenty? “Uh, yeah. I’m fine. Just thinking, is all.” She relaxed back into the seat, fingers blindly trained on the edges of the domed crib beside her. A sharp intake of air. Was that a laugh? “Don’t hurt yourself.”  She cocked her head towards him, incredulously.  “What are you thinking about?”  He continued, not turning his helmeted head. “Oh, you know. Just everything, I guess. We’ve been on the run for…How many years now?”  Pressing the autopilot button, his chair swiveled to face her, expressionless as always. He slumped down, placing his elbows on his beskar clad legs. “Five years? Six?”  The subtle tilt of his helmet told her that he hadn’t really considered it until she brought it up.  He peered at her through his visor, suddenly glad that she was unable to see his eyes, trained on her petite form.

She was a far cry from the drunken brawler he had met all those years ago, and his lips, hidden behind beskar, tugged into a semblance of a smile at the vivid memory. The newly failed Jedi stood in a darkened back alley of Canto Bight, chest heaving after escaping from a mob of angry gamblers.  Her gift with the Force allowed her to cheat her way through a game, winning her a substantial amount of money.  Giddy, and moderately tipsy from the free drinks, she shoved credits into the pockets of her long, satin dress, fingers brushing against the lightsaber strapped to her leg.  As the young woman navigated her way through the slimy underbelly of the city, blaster shots rang out: her keen senses knew it was only a couple of blocks away, and she stealthily navigated towards the sound.  The moment she turned the corner, her heart lurched.  Momentary flashes of silver were illuminated in the firefight, and she could see all of the shots were trained on one individual.  “I always have to root for the underdog, don’t I,” she whispered under her breath, hiking the skirt of her dress up to remove her lightsaber.  With a running start, and a drunken stumble, (Y/n) activated her lightsaber, illuminating the alley in a sunset gold hue, and sized up no less than 8 people nearly surrounding the figure. Slashing through the one that stood directly between her and the figure under attack, she turned, pressing her back towards the cold feeling of what she quickly recognized as beskar. “Who…” the voice called to her, before she quickly cut him off. “We can discuss formalities later, Mandalorian. For now, I’ve got you.”  Another round of shots flew directly towards the pair, and she deflected them with ease with the saber. For a moment, the Mandalorian paused and watched the woman in the long dress, admiring the way she fought:  she clearly had training, but there was a chaotic element, something unrefined, about the way she took out her enemies. Singlehandedly, the woman took out all but one of them, with the Mandalorian vaporizing the assailant in one swift motion. She sheathed her lightsaber, hiking up her now filthy dress to replace it in its holster.  A cocky grin plastered her face, as she reached out towards him. “I’m (Y/n). I’d love to chat more, but seeing as how you’ve clearly made some enemies, we should probably get this show on the road.  You got a ship?” The helmet tipped forward, a subtle nod of affirmation.  The motion would be the only invitation the woman would receive from him.  The Mandalorian turned mumbling quietly to himself about the woman’s apparent mental state, a deathwish, and she followed.

“Definitely closer to six.” The woman hummed, propping her feet on the side of his captain’s chair, wiggling her bare toes.  “I’m getting a little….antsy.” “Antsy? About what?” His voice held no indication of what he was feeling.  Fear, perhaps? The Mandalorian knew the day would probably come that his traveling companion would grow weary and branch off on her own, leaving him and the Child for good.  He could never tell her how badly he wanted her to stay.  She had become his best friend, his closest confidante, and a mother figure to the child.   “You know….Like maybe we could make a stop for a couple of days.  Like a vacation or something. Take the kid and visit Cara or something.”  It wasn’t completely lost on her that he exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.  “I don’t know, Din. I feel like I’ve been staring at the inside of this ship forever.  I want to see a sunset, put my feet on solid ground.”  She frowned when he didn’t immediately respond.  The captain’s chair swiveled back to its original position. “Diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin,” her whine drawled, awakening a slew of butterflies in his stomach. “I’ll see what I can do.” He answered succinctly.

The sound of the docking ramp woke her from a peaceful slumber.  Stumbling from her cot, she slipped on a loose, knee length dress and boots, scrambling to see where the Mandalorian had taken her.  The hulking figure stood poised at the edge of the ramp, cradling the small bundle. “Navarro? This really your idea of a vacation?” She glided to his side.  The child cooed at the sight of her, making grabby hands in her direction. Din slid the child into her arms, silently admiring the care with which she held him. She is the perfect dichotomy of deadly and nurturing, he thought to himself as he continued peering down at her out of the corner of his visor. “No, quick pit stop,” he placed his hand behind her elbow, guiding her off the ship, towards the center of the city. The small gesture of physical contact caused a flame in her cheeks, as she quickly adjusted the baby to sit on the swell of her hip. “CARA,” (Y/n) screeched, passing the child to Din to fully engulf her dear friend in a tight embrace.  “It’s been so long!”  Din joined the pair, and the child gurgled and cooed excitedly. Cara reached down and stroked the child’s long green ear. “Hello there, little one! What do you think about staying with Aunt Cara for a few days while your mom and dad go have some fun?”  She peered pointedly at the Mandalorian, knowing full well that he was blushing under his helmet at the implication of their partnership.  (Y/n) glanced quickly at Din, mouth fully agape, then back to Cara. “We couldn’t possibly inconvenience you like that!” she protested, “I mean, this guy is getting to be quite a handful, with his….thing. You know. *the Force*” she mouthed silently, knowing that Force users are generally unfavored, sought after by Imps.  Cara found purchase under the child’s arms and pulled him gently away from (Y/n). “Look, if I can handle all the weird shit his mom does, I can handle whatever he can do.  You two haven’t had any time to yourself in years now. Stay the night here tonight, we’ll catch up, and you can get an early start in the morning after a night of good sleep and a full belly!”

(Y/n) was one of the few women Cara knew that could drink her under the table.  Cara narrowed her eyes as the woman giggled, leaning into the shoulder of the heavily armored man.  Through heavy wheezing and laughter, she continued her story. “You should have seen the look on Din’s face when I sabered the guy clear through the chest right before the guy pulled the trigger on him.  I have saved your ass SO many times.”  Cara doubled over in laughter. “Really? ‘The look on his face’??”  She tipped the flagon of alcohol towards her mouth, spewing a bit in her fit of laughter. “So you’re telling me you’ve seen his face?”  (Y/n) bristled a bit at the comment. “Well, no, of course not.  But I know what he’s thinking sometimes, I can feel it. So I can….imagine, I guess?”  She peered up at him with big, glossy eyes. “Right, right. So is that part of the ‘Force’, or the fact that you two are clearly hopelessly in love with each other?” (Y/n) shot her gaze towards Cara, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, mind reeling.  Would that really be that far beyond the realm of possibility?  She knew she would be lying if she tried to deny it, instead opting to lean forward, away from Din, and grab her drink off the table.  Certainly, their relationship held a peculiar degree of intimacy: what some would consider a simple gesture, such as revealing their real name, was a huge step in her friendship with the Mandalorian. They sat in the hull of the ship in silence after acquiring a particularly difficult asset, the pair both bleeding from fresh injuries. Through heavy, altered breaths, he finally spoke. “You really don’t have to stick around. Bounty hunting is a dangerous business.” Thuds of beskar hitting the cold floor punctuated his sentences, as he peered over at the woman through his visor. She had hastily stripped out of her minimal armor, revealing a startling amount of bruised and bloodied flesh underneath, a large gaping wound staining red the pale flesh of her upper arm. The Mandalorian quickly averted his gaze down to his own wounds, barely visible through the cloth of his underclothes. “I’m not made of glass, Mando.  I was one night away from becoming a Jedi Master…you know. Before I ran.” A hiss escaped her lips as she staunched the bleeding from a deep vibroblade cut.  His curiosity was piqued. “Seems like a lot of effort to go through just to run off at the last second.”  He slid a medkit across the floor over to her, as she busied herself with the next most severe wound. “Do you know anything about what it means to become a Jedi, Mando?” she asked, no hostility in her voice. “Hm. I imagine it’s similar to my Creed.” Bacta spray coated his split knuckles, his gloves discarded to his side. “Well.  Because of my…skills…I was taken away from my family as a child. Told to surrender my entire past, my entire self.  And for what?  To come of age and be told I can never get married or have a family, can never pursue anything that would fulfill me. I couldn’t have anything.  So the night before I swore my oath, I took my lightsaber and ran.  I didn’t stop running for what felt like an eternity.  Hopping from planet to planet, swindling, fighting, killing if I absolutely had to.”  Her wounds tended to, she laid back on the cold floor of the Razor Crest.  She exhaled. “Honestly, it’s for the best. I’m having too much fun now. And now, all of my choices are my own.” Turning her head to peer at him.  “What about you? What’s your story?” “My uh…parents. Got killed.  I became the Mandalorians’ foundling.  They raised me, and I adopted their Creed as mine.  I owe them everything.  It’s why I kept the Child as my own.”  Suddenly, she reached across the space between them, taking his bare hand in her own.  He was taken aback at first:  this marked the first non-violent physical contact he had had with anyone in a long time, especially skin to skin.  It felt foreign, but something else. Pleasant.   “Mando….I’m so sorry.”  He laced his fingers through hers, earning a quiet gasp. “Din…Din Djarin.”  His voice through the modulator was breathy, as if the words escaped from him on their own volition.  She quickly rolled onto her side and pulled her hand away, much to his chagrin.  More confidently, he spoke again. “I would like for you to call me Din.”  In one swift motion, he reached towards her, initiating the contact again.

“Oh my gods, (Y/n), are you EMBARASSED?” Cara continued laughing, sloshing her drink.  “Your eyebrows are about to disappear into your hairline.” She stumbled to her feet. “I’m going to go check on the baby.”  She navigated through Cara’s small lodging towards the room that held the child’s crib.

“Really, Din? REALLY? You haven’t told her yet?” Cara leaned forward, chastising him.  His helmet tilted slightly as he stretched his arms across the back length of the seat. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Cara.” “So you’re telling me. That you’ve been traveling together for five-“ “Six,” he interrupted. “SIX years, and you haven’t told her that you love her?” He cleared his throat beneath his helmet. “She is the bravest warrior I know. I show her that I appreciate her service every day. That’s why I’m taking her on a vacation.  She fights beside me well, and cares for the child as if he’s her own.”  Shifting his weight, he glanced down the hallway she had gone down. “Din Djarin, you are staring down that hallway waiting for her to come back. You love her.” “She left the Jedi order so she could have some sense of normalcy.  Marriage. A family. I cannot give that to her.” He husked angrily.  Cara paused, blinking at him for a moment. “But you already did. Do you think it’s normal for two people to gallivant around the galaxy together, raising an adopted child together?  Honestly, when you told me you were coming to visit, Greef and I made a bet:  he said you two would already be married by the time you got here.  I said you would announce it when you arrived.” “It is not the Way,” he replied simply. “I happen to know that Mandalorians can get married.  The Armorer loaned me some books on the Creed. Maybe you should go talk to her.” “She still here in Navarro?” His interest was piqued. “Yeah, maybe you should go see her before you guys head out.” She stood, stretching her arms above her head. “And on that note, I’m going to bed.”

Din crept down the hallway towards the room with the crib, noting the door was slightly ajar. Peeking inside, he saw the child nestled against (Y/n), both fast asleep.  Sighing heavily, he exited the building, in search of the Armorer.

The new covert wasn’t far from the old one.  A handful of Mandalorians in their armor spread out in the comfortable common area, a handful of children toddling about.  He couldn’t contain the swell of pride in his chest, seeing how the tribe was starting anew, with a fresh generation of foundlings. “Ah, Din.  It’s been a long time.” A voice called from behind him. He turned, regarding her warmly. “How is the child? Where is the foundling?” “He’s with his moth-…Uh, with my traveling companion.”  He barely caught himself. “Ah, a companion? The woman from the siege of Nevarro?”  Her voice lilted in what could only be described as amusement, his near slip up wholly noticed. “Yes,” he replied in short. “A failed Jedi Master.” “A dar’jetti. Interesting. She understands the Force, then. Did you choose her companionship for her to teach the Foundling?”  She busies herself with a gauntlet from the forge, not looking in his direction. His shoulders slumped, “She put her life on the line for me. She fiercely protected the child and I. More than once. First time on Canto Bight.” “How long ago was that?” Placing the gauntlet on the armory shelf, she turned, as if to urge the truth out of him. “Six years,” his voice was nearly a whisper. “So you have been traveling together for six years.  Has she seen you without your helmet?  Have you made her your riduur?”  Tilting her helmet inquisitively.   “You are raising a foundling together. It is a practical decision; we can extend the protection of the Covert to her. Aliit ori’shya tal’din.” He struggled for words, finally resigning to silently hooking his thumbs into his utility belt, shaking his head ‘no’. The Armorer walked over to him, placing a gloved hand on his shoulder. “If you take her has your riduur it is still within the Resol’nare. To remove your helmet in front of your family...It is the Way.  It is right, and just, a clan of three.”  With that, he turned on his heels without a word, finding his way back to Cara’s homestead.

Din arguably never slept. Between the Child, piloting duties, and watching over (Y/n), he had learned to rely on as little rest as possible. It was no surprise when Cara rose that morning that the Mandalorian was comfortably reclining in the common space. “Morning, Mando! You find the Armorer?” she plopped down on a tufted cushion beside him. “Mhm” he answered flatly.  A silence hung thick over the air, as if Cara was waiting for something more. “I’m taking her to Canto Bight. Called in a couple of favors.”  She clapped her gloved hands together. “You’re taking her to the place you first met because you’re going to ask her to marry you. I KNEW it.” “Keep your voice down,” he husked. “I need you to take some of these credits from the last bounty, go with her to buy some clothing before we leave.” The creaking of a door startled the pair. (Y/n) dragged into the room, the Child toddling behind her.  “Good morning, Cara, Din.”  She stretched, and Din regarded her clothing.  Her shoulder was exposed from the loose linen top she wore, her black jodhpurs torn and frayed from numerous falls.  Since joining him, her style had become simple and practical, but all he could think about was the long dress she wore when they first met. “Um, good morning.”  Din stood awkwardly.  “Cara is going to take you shopping before we head out.  Is that alright with you?” (Y/n) leaned down and picked up the Child, eyeing Din suspiciously.  Glancing over at Cara who by now had a shit eating grin plastered across her face, she nodded slowly. “Sure, that sounds like it could be fun.” “I will take care of the baby until you two get back, cyar’ika.”  The Mandalorian closed distance and collected the child from her.  Before she could react, he leaned his helmet down, pressing it gently to her forehead.  “I will see you soon.”

The two women meandered towards the market, (Y/n)’s face still flushed. “You know what that was, right?”  Cara asked when they were out of earshot of her dwelling. “That was like, the equivalent of kissing by Mandalorian standard.” She dragged her hands down her face, “I KNOW what it was, Cara.  I just don’t know WHY. What the HELL was that?! Was that MANDO’A? WHAT DOES CYAR’IKA MEAN?”  He had only ever spoken to her in his native tongue once before, and the low growl of his words always sent a fire straight to the flesh of her neck and face.

Everything had gone to hell in a handbasket.  They were cornered, bruised, and broken, under heavy fire from just beyond the cantina doors.  A booming voice had just called the Mandalorian by his name, and the woman clutched her saber so tightly that the skin of her palms began to crack.  Despite the debris from the ammunition and explosions digging into her knees from where she crouched behind the bar, his name being revealed to everyone wounded her somewhere deep behind her ribcage. Something sacred that he had gifted to her out of trust and mutual respect, shouted with indifference to the seemingly infinite number of troops as they pinned the group down.  

The rag-tag group desperately clamored for some promise of an exit, a path to safety.  The medical droid turned child protector had uncovered a small opening that could potentially lead the group to safety, but there wasn’t much time.  Cara, Karga, and IG-11 crouched towards the small opening and began moving forward. (Y/n) scrambled towards the hole, turning to make sure Din was close behind, only to see him collapsed on the ground, unmoving.  She scrambled over to him, tapping the side of his helmet. “Din! DIN? You have to get up, we have to go NOW.”  As she slid her hand behind him to try to assist getting him up, she found that he was covered in something dark and slick.  Blood, and lots of it, was seeping from a wound that was concealed by his helmet.

His breath came through the vocorder in slow pants. “(Y/n) I’m not going to make it. You take this, take the child, and get to safety.”  He pressed a necklace with the emblem of a Mythosaur into her palm, then reached up to press his gloved hand to her cheek. “The covert. They’ll know…..know I sent you.”

Years of Jedi training had taught her about stoicism.  It had taught her about loss, and death, but nothing had prepared her to say goodbye to the Mandalorian.  Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, as she violently shook her head in protest. “No, Din.  I’m not leaving you.  I will slaughter every Storm Trooper that comes through this door.  I will slay Moff Gideon myself and watch the light leave his eyes. I swear this to you.”  She looped the necklace around her neck, and slowly stood up, flicking her golden lightsaber and taking a fighting stance.

“Cuyir gar gett’se?!”  The Mandalorian wheezed through his vocoder, struggling to catch his breath. “Don’t do this, the child needs you, you’re his mot-.”  He stopped speaking abruptly, and she screamed for IG-11 to assist he Mandalorian.

Several Storm Troopers pressed their way inside, and the only thing she could focus on was holding them off for long enough for IG-11 to get Din to safety.  As they fell one by one, a much larger Storm Trooper entered with a flamethrower and began spraying his flames towards her.  Her palm pressed forward, as she used everything in the Force to keep the flames at bay.  Her strength began to falter, as she peered down to her side.  The child had waddled up beside her, and she quietly pleaded for him to get back. “Baby, please. Please, you’re going to get hurt. You’ve got to go back.”  He raised his tiny three fingered hand and mirrored her position, and the flames began quickly receding.  They soon engulfed the Trooper, and she clamored to scoop the now unconscious baby from the ground, running past IG-11 and the body of the Mandalorian. Cara chuckled to herself, “So now that it’s just the two of us, be honest. You’ve got it bad for him, don’t you?” “No shit, Cara. You can only be stuck with someone on a floating chunk of metal for so long before you start to think they look pretty appealing,” she rolled her eyes. “How long?” Cara guided her into a vendor stall, lined with dresses and garments.  (Y/n) traced her fingers absentmindedly over the lush fabrics, deep in thought. “Uh, remember the story when he was getting jumped by the eight dudes in Canto Bight?”  She picked up a long black dress with an open back. “….You mean the night you met? Are you insane?” Cara looked at her incredulously. “You’ve kept your shit together for six years, without even giving him a hint that you were feeling something?” Her skin flushed. “NO. I was just gonna say this dress is very similar to what I wore that night. GEEZ, Cara, I didn’t even know him yet.”  Cara huffed in frustration. (Y/n) draped the dress over her arm, and placed her hand on Cara’s shoulder. “I can’t describe it. Let me just….show you, okay?”

It all came at once as a flood: everything was suddenly warm, like the heat of the sun on a perfect day, or the way spotchka burned just a little on the way down.  It was a small, smoldering pile of cinders, giving way to an unquenchable blaze.  The feeling of being surrounded by cool, blue water, and a fearless feeling of sinking all the way to the bottom of the sea. The undeniable sensation of falling from some high distance, unsure of when you’ll reach the bottom.

Cara’s eyes opened. “Damn, (Y/n) could you warn me before putting me through the ringer? I didn’t know that was a thing you could do.”  (Y/n) turned towards the dark dress, and shrugged her shoulders. “This is the one.” She gestured to this shopkeep, shoving a handful of credits into their hands. “Let’s get out of here. I need a vacation.”

The Razor Crest docked in Canto Bight, and (Y/n) could barely contain her excitement, a stark contrast to the man behind the beskar.   “if you would like to get dressed, I’m going to run an errand. Will you be ready in half an hour?”

(Y/n) peered at herself in the small mirror as she dabbed a deep rouge color to her lips.  The dress glided behind her as she strode towards the weapons cabinet and pulled out her lightsaber, still in pristine condition.  The high slit of the dress allowed her easy access to strap the weapon to her leg.  The loud hissing of the ramp to the Razor Crest alerted her to Din’s arrival, and she stood expectantly awaiting the moment he got to lay eyes on her.  

The man in the shiny beskar paused in front of her, his helmet tilting downward to take her all in. “You look….” He paused, seemingly choking, noticing the Mythosaur necklace he had given her during the siege situated on her chest. “Really nice, (Y/n).”

She smirked, enjoying how flustered he seemed to be.  “You look pretty nice yourself, Din.  Did you shine your beskar up just for me?”  He quickly nodded.

“I uh….wanted to look as nice as I could for this.  Are you ready to depart?” He gestured towards a speeder at the bottom of the ramp.  “I got a speeder with a sidecar so you wouldn’t have to…um….straddle it in a dress.”  She broke into a giggle, which swelled into a belly laugh.

“That’s surprisingly thoughtful of you. I really can’t believe you pulled all this together for me. Thank you so much.” “Don’t thank me until you see the rest. There’s a lot more to see tonight.” He held out his arm, chivalrously as they walked towards the speeder.  “Do you trust me?”  She thought for a moment. “Well, that depends.  Are you making this nice for me so it’s an easy let down? You’re dumping me back off here or something?”

He scoffed. “No, never. I’m not sure what I would do without you.”  The sincerity in his voice caused her to falter a bit. He regained his stoic composure quickly. “Keep your eyes closed, I’ll tell you when to open them.” The speeder ride felt painfully long, and a bit disorienting.  She had absolutely no concept of space, nor any idea where he might be taking her. The whirring of the speeder engine slowed to a halt, and she could vaguely make out the sounds of waves crashing somewhere nearby.  The Mandalorian disembarked, and strode around to gently lift her from her seat.  

“Okay, you can open your eyes now.”  His voice through the vocorder gravelly beside her ear.

The woman wasn’t prepared for what sight was in front of her.  A large dock surrounded by blue ocean stretched out before them, leading towards a large yacht.  The sky was beginning to display a twinge of orange and pink, reflecting off of the gently rolling waves.  (Y/n) looked over at the Mandalorian, speechless for the first time since they had met.  “Din, this is really too much.  It must have cost a fortune in credits to get this boat.  And if I recall correctly, you HATE the water.”

He shook his head.  “I had a few favors to call in from some associates here.  This is yours to enjoy while we’re here.”  She jumped up and down gleefully, and began running towards the boat.  It never ceased to amaze him her ability to run in high heeled shoes.  

The pair embarked on the yacht, and she watched puzzled as Din entered coordinates into the GPS system. The boat began moving towards some undisclosed location, and she ran towards the front of the boat.  She perched herself against the railing, staring down as the waves passed quickly as the boat sped along.  Innumerable fish passed by, many species she had never seen before.  Din stood back and watched her, arms crossed, an immense amount of hidden enjoyment spreading across his features.  The young woman quickly turned back towards him. “So where are we even heading? I saw you input some coordinates.”  She kicked off her shoes to the side unceremoniously, enjoying the freedom to move about.

“I know a spot.”  He answered plainly.

“Hmmmm, a place where you dump the bodies?” She chided, eyeing him suspiciously.

“No. Just a place I thought you might like to see. I don’t imagine you got to enjoy many spots in Canto Bight during your time here.”  She thought for a moment.

“You’re right.  Most of the time I was just ducking out in alleyways.  I think I only even got to see the coastline twice during the time I was here.  And never like this.”   The setting sun caused her to squint her eyes a bit as she peered out, and the Mandalorian took that time to really take her in:  she was truly beautiful, all pointed features and sharp angles.  He very seldom had the luxury to see her this way, without lines of worry across her forehead, or thinking deeply about how they were going to capture the next quarry. She consistently held a brave face for him and the child, so much that it was often easy to forget that she was a living being.  For a moment he tried to imagine her other life, one where she was a hardened Jedi master: fierce and unrelenting, but also quiet and solitary.  He thought, that life would have never suited her, she was like a wildfire, wild and unquenchable.  Her smile when she held the child, or the attitude she so quickly gave the Mandalorian when he agitated her.  No, she felt far too much to be confined by the life of a Jedi.  She looked back over to him, smiling.

“You know, sometimes I actually can feel what you’re thinking.  You try to keep your thoughts quiet, but sometimes you’re so loud in there.” She shook her head, almost embarrassed. “You’re right, though.  That was never the life for me.  I’m a little bit too erratic for the discipline they expected from me.”  He moved towards her, placing his hand tentatively on her shoulder.

“There’s nothing shameful about that. You’re impulsive at times, wild even. But you know, sometimes I’m not sure this is the life I want to live either.”  She gazed at his hand for a moment, before turning her attention to the T shaped visor, confused at his confession.  He continued, “There are many days when I think maybe it’s time to take off the armor, to give all of this up. Maybe settle down with the kid somewhere and try to have some normalcy.”

“Din, where is this coming from?  The Creed is your entire life….”  The boat sputtered to a halt, and he gently guided her to turn back around:  all that could be seen around them was a beautiful sunset undisturbed and untouched by the Canto Bight skyline. Her mouth hung open in shock.  “Din, I’ve never seen anything like this before.  Every planet I’ve seen, in all my travels. Nothing this beautiful.”

“Neither have I.”  He spoke softly, and she smiled back towards him. She immediately noticed his visor didn’t face the sunset, he was looking down at her.  “(Y/n), I want you to do something for me.”  He clasped both her hands in his, shocking her at his blatant display of affection.

“After you put all of this together for me? I’ll do literally anything you ask of me.” She winked at him.

He slowly lifted her hands to the edge of the beskar helmet on his head, exhaling shakily.  Her fingers traced the cool metal that shielded his face from the world, as he let go of her hands.  She felt herself starting to tremble at the immense amount of trust her placed in her, allowing her to touch his helmet.  His hands now found purchase at her waist, another action so intimate she felt her heart swell.

“I want—I want you to take it off.” His voice was uneven and gentle, as though he couldn’t believe the words had slipped out to her so easily.

“Din, NO,” she quickly removed her hands and tried to pull herself from his grasp.  “Your Creed. I can’t see you without it. Why the kriff would you want to give that up now, after all this time?”  His grasp on her waist didn’t falter, instead pulling her in closer to him.  She slapped her hands on his cuirass, agitated.  “I won’t let you throw away your entire life for me.”  

“I don’t have to ‘throw away’ anything for you, cya’rika.  All these years you’ve traveled with me…You’ve followed me to the ends of the earth to protect the child…OUR child.  You have never betrayed my trust, despite your absolute ruthless nature.  I want to give this to you.”

Tears began welling up in her eyes. “You can’t, Din. As much as I wish I could say yes, we can’t.  I know what it means to throw away everything you worked for, but I made that choice.  Your Creed is everything to you.”

“I don’t have to give up my Creed to show you my face…”  He spoke barely above a whisper.  “We’re a clan of three. Aliit ori’shya tal’din: Family is more than blood.”  He echoed the phrase the Armorer had told him.

“I’m familiar with Mandalorian customs, Din: You can remove your helmet in front of your child.” She grew increasingly more agitated and anxious.

“Or…my riduur.”  She shifted her weight nervously.  

“Din, I’m familiar with customs, not the language.  I don’t even know what that means.”

His hands moved to grasp hers again, placing them on his helmet with more conviction.  “Wife.  It means, my wife.” “Are you….are you asking me to…?”  He nodded.  “You’re not just messing with me right now?”  He shook his head in response, and she began a combination of laughing and crying all at the same time.

“So will you do it?” He whispered softly, and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly as she lifted the helmet.  A quiet hiss echoed around them, as the sun began to dip just beyond the horizon.  Din took the helmet from her, and placed it to the side.  “Open your eyes, (Y/n).”

She slowly opened her eyes to the man before her.  The rays from the finally setting sun settled upon his golden tan skin, framed by loose brown curls.  Her hands shot up to her mouth in shock.  “Din, you’re…..hot? Like, I knew you had swagger, but you’re….you’re a vision.”  He looked at her shyly, and began to laugh. “Stars, and your smile? I can’t believe you never told me how beautiful you were underneath that tin can.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, and leaned towards her so dangerously close that their lips were almost touching. “I mean, I figured all this time you thought I looked like the child.”  She reached up to touch his face with nothing but reverence and adoration.

“You could have been a Mon Calamari under there and I would love you…” She paused, her cheeks flushed with her confession.  His gloved hand cupped the side of her face, and she leaned into him, never breaking eye contact.  “I love you, (Y/n).” She released his face and threw her arms around his still armor-clad shoulders, pressing into a tentative kiss.

“I will marry you, Din. Under one condition.” She murmured, lips still hovering close to his.

“Anything you want, cyar’ika.”

“You gotta start teaching me Mando’a.”  She felt his chest move, as laughter began bubbling up from deep within him. “Hey, it’s not funny! You keep slipping in words and phrases and I’ve been in the dark this whole time!”

He brushed his lips against her forehead. “Okay, anything you want to know.”

“When we were on Nevarro, and you were….um…dying.  You said something. What was it?”  He pulled back and thought about it for a moment.

“I’m pretty sure I told you that you were nuts.”  Her fist connected with his shoulder. “OW, what was that for?”

“All this time, I’ve been sitting here, thinking that you were professing your love with your dying breath. And you were just telling me that I was CRAZY?”  

He gently thumbed over the necklace he had given her. “In a way, I was. Gar cuyir gett’se. You’re the bravest, most fearless, insane woman I have ever met. Cyar’ika, my beloved.”  

The pair had spent their travel time back to Nevarro, with Din patiently teaching her phrases of Mando’a, particularly phrases for their wedding vows.  They had made the decision to have the ceremony performed on Nevarro, with the child, Cara, Greef Karga and the Armorer present, even though Mandalorian weddings were a simple exchanging of words.  As they approached the docking bay, (Y/n) seemed to vibrate with excitement.  The hatch opened, and the pair could see Cara laughing with the baby settled on her hip, and Greef Karga gesticulating animatedly.  

(Y/n) practically skipped off towards the group, Din following slowly behind.  He was still tentative; he didn’t know what to expect with their news. As (Y/n) approached, the baby wiggled and writhed away from Cara, and she plopped him down watching him waddle over and clasp onto (Y/n)’s leg.

Cara eyed the pair carefully, cutting between the two of them. “Something’s different, isn’t it? You’ve got an awful lot of spring in your step to just have some vacation afterglow.”  (Y/n) turned, smiling at the Mandalorian.

He nervously cleared his throat, and moved to stand by her side, dwarfing her in his height.  “I have asked (Y/n) to be my riduur.”

She proudly bounced on the heels of her feet. “Wife.  That means wife, everyone. He’s been teaching me Mando’a on the trip back.”  Everyone gaped at the pair, the baby cooing and sputtering excitedly.  “What’s everyone staring at?”  For a brief moment, seemingly suspended in time, everyone was too shocked to speak. Greef Karga broke the silence by stepping forward and clapping the Mandalorian on his pauldron covered shoulder.

“I knew you had it in you, Mando.  I’m glad you’re keeping her around. She’s always been crazy enough to get things done.” He shot a quick wink over to the woman, who beamed up at the expressionless helmet.

“She certainly is, which is why she wants to go ahead and do it today.”  As if the baby knew what Mando was saying, he began cooing and gurgling excitedly.  He reached down and stroked the child’s slightly furry head.  “We would like all of you to attend as our witnesses.  Mandalorian wedding vows are a simple exchanging of words, but we would like for all of you to be a part of it.”

Later in the day, as the blazing sun hung above the city, the group found themselves in the Mandalorian covert.  The Armorer greeted the group warmly and led them to a common space with comfortable seating.  Din and (Y/n) stood before them, hand in hand, as they began to recite the vows he had taught her on the flight back to Nevarro.

“Mhi solus tome.  Mhi solus dhar’tome. Mhi me’dinui an.  Mhi ba’juri verde.”  Din clasped his gloves hands on her cheeks, pulling her towards him.  Gently, he pressed the forehead of his helmet to her, and she beamed back at him.

“So that’s it? You’re married now?”  Karga slapped his hands to his knees.  The Armorer nodded.

“Yes.  Mandalorian custom dictates a simple exchange of words as a binding marital contact.  This is the Way.”

(Y/n) strode towards Cara, collecting the baby.  “Well that’s it little guy, I guess I’m officially your mom now.”

The Armorer nodded her head in agreement.  “A clan of three.  Go forth and raise warriors.”  (Y/n) chuckled.

“I think warrior, singular, is about all we can handle right now.  I think our little clan is finally complete.”  She gazed at his visor adoringly.  “Now, we better get back to work.  I blew a bunch of our credits at the casino on Canto Bight. Karga, got any pucks for us?”  The group stared at her incredulously, as Din wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“I told ner cyar’ika no using the Force to cheat.  We didn’t need their security ruining her vacation.”  She shrugged under his weight.

Karga grumbled. “Nuttiest bounty hunters in the entire Guild.  I swear, they were made for each other.”

The baby cooed happily between them, and (Y/n) felt her chest swell with pride.  After all those solitary years, the brutal Jedi training, she finally felt as though she had the entire galaxy within her reach.  The things she so outrageously dreamed of, prematurely stolen from her in her youth, restored by a fifty something year old child, and a man clad in armor as impenetrable as his heart: a family all her own. A clan of three.

[featherphant0m]

Small Void

Warnings: Spoilers for Mandalorian Season 2 Finale! Angst, just overall broken Din Djarin

Word Count: 535

I am officially a broken mess after that episode. But, here’s a small story I wrote up within 30 minutes. It’s unedited, so ignore any spelling or grammar errors!

Right now, his heart ached in pain. Even with knowing he had fully decided to go against his creed, his thoughts didn’t linger there. Instead, they lingered on his adoptive son. It pained the warrior to see the small being go, now only having memories in the form of The Child. The empty void left him broken and vulnerable, his chest tightening as his shaky hands brought his helm to rest underneath his arm.

Din’s mind was numb, his tired eyes laying upon the concerned expression of Cara. He only gave her a soft nod before turning away. He made his way towards the same elevator he had trained his eyes on, bringing himself down where they had crash landed the imperial shuttle. The sight was different to him now, first believing he would leave, Grogu in hand, and continue to protect the being he had grown so attached to. But fate had other plans, leaving Din alone with his thoughts. He found himself subconsciously looking over his shoulder or listening for the coos of Grogu, only to find a small void where he once stood.

The quiet sound of footsteps filled Din’s ears as he paused and sat down on the cold metal floor. He set his helmet back down to the side and rubbed his eyes. A distressed groan left his throat once he looked out to the vast stars of the galaxy. He should be happy, he should be relieved that he completed his mission. That was all it was. A mission. Deliver the Child to a Jedi and move on.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t bring himself to move on.

Din felt ashamed for getting so attached to Grogu, the uneasy thought always seeming to linger close to his mind without him realizing it. But as soon as the Child’s brown eyes looked up to him after seeing the Jedi on the security cameras, he knew that the long feared goodbye had come. He had felt a pain he didn’t know he could feel, letting go of Grogu even if he had a chance to keep him.

The Mandalorian had let himself hope and pray that he would be able to keep Grogu, but it wasn’t enough. The Child had brought a happiness to Din he never knew he could feel, and now the emptiness that lingered would never be filled. His eyes lingered across the white dots that scattered the blackness of space. A sinking feeling surrounded his being as he let out a soft sigh.

He had to come to terms with it.

That it was just a mission all along.

A quest.

However, one he would never forget.