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kyberblade · 2 years

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Back To You (Din x Reader) - Part 11

A/N: Woo-hooooooooooooo!!!!! Here we are, a part with entirely original content, absolutely no show dialogue or plot lines. Whew. I did it. I had about 3k then all of a sudden it was 10k and I went to wrap it up with a few paragraphs and then we had 13k. I had a lot to sayyy, okaayyy??? I fully expect screaming at me when this is done. We have revelations, discussions, action…. Is that vague enough? Oh! And we have Mando’a again in this one. Lots of it. If the reader doesn’t understand it, it will look like this. (Bold and italic.) If she understands and/or says it, it’ll look like this. (Just italic.) The translations are at the end of the respective sentences in parentheses. Also, once again, there is some lore in this that @writerlyhabits wrote in a fantastic short, and I loved it so much, I asked if I could use it.

(This takes place right where the other one left off and goes into the first part of episode 2x4/12, The Siege.)

I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, and Din is once again a warning in and of himself in this one. Typical show violence. Maybe like one or two light swear words? Space swearing, and a general sense of you’re going to scream at me, I know it.

Word count: 13,238

As always, thanks to @grippingbeskar for encouraging me, looking over this for me, and being the one to introduce me to Din fanfiction in the first place, getting me hooked. You are fantastic and I always love our chats.

Thank you to @blondiwankenobi who brainstormed the premise of the flashback with me just during a chat, @what-the-heckin-heck who helped me with language decisions while shooting the breeze, and @deceiverofgodss who is the ruler of all Mando’a knowledge, showed me the error of my ways, and was kind enough to help me fix it.

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Xxx

Landing on the dusty planet, you tried to peer through the viewport over Din’s shoulder. A cloud of dirt kicked up from the ship quickly obscured your view, dissipating much too slowly for your liking.

“Why are we going there?” You’d asked him as he initiated the landing sequence, the Crest shuddering with the effort.

“We need to make some repairs before we can make it all the way to Nevarro, and it’s quiet and out of the way. It’s where I found the kid. No one will think to look for him where he originally was.”

Nodding, you hesitated before you asked the next question. “Wasn’t this where you met Kuiil? Your burc'ya, your friend.”

Din only nodded in answer.

A silence stretched on between you, filling the cabin with a heavy air before finally it was broken when Din sighed.

His voice was quiet, but compared to the silence you’d just left, it nearly startled you. “We’re going to be landing right by his house. He has- had-” He let out a quick breath. “There is a work bench near the back we can use, and keeping the ship in sight will help keep the Jawas away.” He growled a little when he mentioned the little thieves, making you smile. “Plus, I figured the kid could stretch his legs for a while, you could use the space and privacy to work with your lightsaber, and learn your vambraces.”

“Y-you’re going to let me set stuff on fire? Like on purpose?”

He turned his chair to face you. “It better be on purpose, otherwise you’re doing it wrong.”

You laughed. “How do you say fire in Mando’a?”

Din shook his head at you. “Tracyn.” Continuing to shake his head incredulously at you, he began to mutter as he turned back to the console. “Nehutyc dala, gar mirdi tracyn bid emuurla, ni chabaa gar.” (“Feisty woman, you think fire is so pleasing, I fear you.”)

“That’s not fair,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring out the viewport as the surface of the planet loomed closer.

“Cuy aay'han bal'bin.” (“It is indeed bittersweet.”)

You had humphed in frustration, slumping further into your chair, making him chuckle.

Now as you made your way down the ramp, Din beside you and the kid in tow, you took in your surroundings as you squinted against the bright sunlight. A small structure that looked like a home sat in the middle, a small shop to the back, a windmill out front, and a large pen in front of it all for some kind of animals, but it was empty.

“Why don’t you go get the kid settled in while I grab our stuff from the ship, then go get parts from his workshop and get started on the repairs,” Din said once you’d all reached the bottom of the ramp, turning to face you.

“I can help,” you offered, taking one step back up the ramp, but stopped when he lightly grabbed your arm.

“I’ve got it. Really, it’s okay. Keep a close eye on the kid. He loves to eat the frogs around here.”

You nodded once, looking down at the kid with a raised brow. He just squealed in response, giggling when you scooped him up off the ground and into your arms. “Come on, little one. We’re going on a frog hunt,” you winked at Din before making your way towards the house, the child letting out a shrill screech of excitement.

Xxx

Din POV

He watched the two of you walk off for just a moment before he sprung into action, climbing the ramp up into the ship. Going straight to your bag, he rifled through the contents until he found the papers he was looking for. Glancing around the doorframe to make sure you were still headed the other way, he flipped through them until he found the document he wanted. The training remote instructions. Folding them in half he tucked them into his belt, returning the others to your bag before sliding it over his shoulder.

Next, he went to his weapons cabinet, punching in the code on his vambrace to make the doors hiss open. Quickly surveying his options, he grabbed the one he wanted, studying it in his hand for a moment before pressing the buttons to close the storage back up.

It wasn’t a spectacular blaster, but it was important to him. It was one of the first ones he’d ever acquired, bought with the credits from his first bounty. He hardly used it anymore, kept it around mostly for sentimental reasons, one of the few things he allowed for that, and he could think of no better use for it than as part of your training remote.

He may not have forged the knife but he’s going to forge the training ball.

No more loopholes.

Grabbing the last few things, he made his way back down the ramp and over to the little shop bench, depositing the blaster and instructions before making his way to the hut with the rest of the gear.

Xxx

Regular POV

The kid was chasing after a frog when you saw Din making his way around from the workbench. Walking the few steps between you, meeting in the middle, you took your bag off his shoulder, and another miscellaneous bag in his grasp.

He leaned around you to look at the kid, sighing. “I told you he’d chase the frogs.”

You looked over your shoulder at the child as he let out a squeal, lunging after the amphibian, and shrugged. “It keeps him out of trouble.”

“He is trouble,” Din grumbled.

Before you could react, a bellowing sound came from over by the ship, the sound of heavy and fast footfalls rapidly getting closer. Looking over, you saw large two legged creatures that looked almost like blobs with teeth charging toward the three of you.

“Get the kid!” Din yelled, dropping every bag he was carrying, and pushing lightly on your back to get you to move in the kids direction.

Dropping your own gear, you ran and scooped the child up in your arms and held him close, turning to watch as the beasts drew closer.

They were so close you could see yourself reflected in their large eyes, and you pulled up your arm, the mechanisms of your vambrace whirring as the flamethrower prepared to fire. Before you could point and shoot, electricity danced over the creatures in a quick flash before they fell to the ground, sliding to a stop right in front of you, the nose of one tapping the tip of your shoe.

The child giggled as he looked down at the walking blobs, making you look at him before you pulled your gaze up to Din, finding him just lowering a rifle, and that’s when you noticed the darts sticking out of the side of their thick skin.

“What…”

“They’re blurrgs,” Din explained, walking up to stand on the other side of the creatures. “It’s how Kuiil got around on this planet. That’s what the pen is for.” He tilted his head to the side at the large vacant enclosure.

“It’s called a blurrg? Its name sounds like how it looks. Blech.”

Din laughed. “Yeah, they aren’t the best looking creatures, but they were loyal and helpful. I’m going to get them in the pen so when they wake up they are contained, and then I can show you how Kuiil taught me to ride them.”

You were still staring at the creatures, their slow easy breaths rising and falling deeply as they slept. “That’s what you say when you don’t know what to say. Blurrg.” You shook your head, looking up at him. “Wait, what, ride them?”

Din nodded slowly with a gentle chuckle. “Don’t worry. If I can get the hang of it, then surely you can, too.”

You swallowed roughly, looking back down to the blurrgs. “We can only hope.”

Xxx

“So you just point like this,” Din adjusted your arms from his spot behind you, moving around to your side to adjust your arms further. “And then flick your wrist down, and that should engage the whipcord.” Before you could move your wrist, he reached out and held it tight, shaking his head at you slowly. “I told you, not yet. This is still the basics. You do it now, you're going to turn yourself into a cocoon, and yes, before you ask again, I speak from experience.”

You rolled your eyes but still laughed at his antics. “Fine.”

He moved to the arm directly in front of him. “Now, this is where your whistling birds are.”

“My what?” You blinked at him.

“Small projectile explosives that track all nearby enemies automatically and before you say anything, no, absolutely in no way am I letting you have tiny flying explosives.” You dropped your jaw at him. “These are blanks, more of a deterrent, so you have time to get away.”

“What is your problem with me and heavier firepower?” You whined, dropping your arms to your sides and standing up straight to look up into his visor.

He sighed. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

“Din, don’t change the subject-”

“I’m not,” he countered, his hands going to his belt as his weight shifted to one side, his head tilting the opposite side yours was. “Answer the question.”

You sighed. “Yeah, at the bar. You got a drink to meet an informant, and they didn’t show-”

“Okay, okay,” he held up a hand to stop you, returning it to his belt when you let out a huff. “Actually, it was before that. A few weeks before.”

Your eyebrows shot up in question before they narrowed, your hands going to your hips.

Din shook his head gently, looking down at the ground before he brought his gaze back to your face. “It was a few weeks before….”

Din stalked down the dirty streets of the lower levels of Coruscant, huffing out an aggravated breath under his helmet, fogging the display briefly. The bounty had given him the slip, jumping on a transport right before the doors closed, grinning at him in triumph through the grimy window. The fob was still beeping, so the bounty was still on the planet, but the beeps were becoming fewer and farther between, meaning it was only a matter of time before the quarry was on an entirely different planet.

Making his way back to the Razor Crest, Din was eager to get back and get off this metropolis hell, the crushing weight of people at every turn making him feel like he was sinking.

Coming around a corner, a group of people were gathered on the street, shouting in various languages, pushing and shoving one another, in what looked like the beginnings of a fight.

Don’t get involved, Din thought, drifting to the side of the streets to continue on in the shadows, undetected.

The crowd began to part as someone shouldered their way through, arguments coming to a halt as they all turned to look at the newcomer with wide eyes. Curious, Din slowed his steps, coming to a stop as he watched the scene unfold, a disbelieving scoff passing through his modulator when he saw what had everyone suddenly on edge.

A woman, bottle of alcohol with a scrap of material sticking out of the top in one hand, and lit torch of some kind in the other. She began to speak in Basic, but everyone seemed to understand her. “Okay, look everybody! I have had enough! This whole thing is so stupid, I don’t want to hear anymore about it!” A few in the crowd began to protest, stopping when she called out. “Hey! You want back into my bar? You shut up!” She looked around, meeting the eyes of every creature without flinching. “No more.” Looking at one large creature in particular, she leveled one of the most severe glares Din had ever seen on him, making the creature that was easily twice her size shrink away. “You understand?”

Agreement went around the crowd in grumbles, and she nodded. “Good.” She sighed, relaxing her shoulders now that the confrontation was over, the movement inadvertently lighting the fuse of the fiery cocktail, and making her eyes go wide, her mouth into a tight line. “Oops,” was all she said as she stared at it a second longer before winding her arm back and lobbing the bottle at a dumpster across the street. In the chaos that followed, even though he looked away to follow the impact for only a second, Din lost track of the woman in the crowd, catching just a glimpse of her apron dashing into one of the storefronts the direction she had entered the crowd from. Looking up to the sign, Din saw it was a bar, and things began to make a little more sense. Emphasis on a little.

One older man stood out as the crowd dispersed, smiling and shaking his head as he turned to move in Din’s direction. Spotting the Mandalorian, he paused, tilting his head in question, and Din decided to get some info if he could. Purely for his own curiosity. Nothing else. Or so he told himself.

“Is she going to be okay?” He cuts right to the chase, stepping up a few feet from the old man.

“How do you mean, Mando?” The senior’s voice has a lilt to it that hints at another meaning entirely, and Din doesn’t know what he thinks about that.

“I mean, that was an accident, it was obvious, but is she still going to get in trouble? I don’t see any law enforcement, but surely there are cameras or something.”

The man smiled warmly. “There’s no security or surveillance down here.” He grinned up at the Mandalorian, eyes darting over toward the bar before coming back and twinkling with something mischievous. “Unless…. You’re offering to keep an eye on her.”

Mumbling his thanks, Din turned away from the old man, drifting closer to the bar as he weighed his options. He wasn’t anywhere near the bounty anymore, the fob barely blinking when he checked it. His ship was still a ways off, and, if he was being honest, after that spectacle, he was more than a little curious about the girl who dispersed bar fights with alcohol bombs. Staring at the flaming dumpster, he chuckled softly.

Deciding he could do with a drink before he goes back to his ship, Din made his way into the small hole in the wall cantina he must have passed by a million times on his many trips here. Stepping into the doorway he paused, looking around. It’s small, not that impressive, but it’s clean, which is more than a lot of places this far down can say. People from the crowd trickle in around him, casting him sideways glances as his beskar catches the lights of some neon signs in the street.

The girl is behind the bar, working as if nothing had happened, but Din notices the way her eyes dart up to the door and to the flaming dumpster across the street every so often. Opting against a drink, he slides into a corner booth bathed in shadows and just watches for the rest of the evening, observing everyone, making sure there is no more trouble.

He slips away at the end of the night, without a name to put to the face, but he still has a smile climbing his cheeks as he makes his way back to the Crest, thinking of her bravery and her various little mannerisms he observed throughout the evening. He didn’t often want to get to know people he came across, but he had been tempted to get to know her. It was simply that she seemed so flustered after everything, he didn’t want to throw meeting a Mandalorian into the mix. People often balked when they first saw him, the stories and the beskar making an intimidating cocktail. But something told him, deep down, if he had just said hello, she’d have met the introduction with the ease of the top shelf drinks she was serving.

It’s only pure coincidence when a contact wants to meet up somewhere under the radar a few weeks later, and he knows just the place.

“And that’s when I actually finally said hello,” he concluded, staring off at the horizon.

“Actually, what you first said to me was,” you grunted deeply, imitating his voice as best you could.

His visor snapped down to look at you. “I did not!”

“Yes! Yes, you did! I asked, ‘Are you here by yourself?’ and you grunted at me.” You smiled. “And you’ve been grunting ever since.”

“I don’t-”

“You do, and it’s fine,” you laughed, reaching out a hand to place on his forearm. “It’s kinda endearing.”

Din grunted in response, both of you tilting your heads at the realization, making you chuckle while Din let out a heavy sigh.

“I can’t believe you saw that,” you mumbled, hiding your face in your palm. “That was truly not my best moment. I only meant to scare them, they were fighting about the stupidest thing, I can’t even remember, and…. And that was a really good top shelf bottle of liquor. What a waste.” You let your hand fall down to your side with a slap against your leg.

“I wouldn’t call it a waste,” Din mused. “Got my attention.”

“Oh, well then I guess it was all worthwhile,” you teased, rolling your eyes.

“It was! Because now I know not to give you anything explosive.”

You glared at him. “You’re mean.”

“No, I just don’t have a death wish,” he chuckled as he moved behind you and ushered you forward.

Xxx

“And why did I take away your flamethrowers?”

Hands behind your back, you looked down at your feet, fiddling the toe of your shoe pointlessly into the ground, mumbling. “Because I roasted your cape on accident. .…But to be fair, it was already really full of holes and next to your jet pack, so really, who was the fire hazard there?”

Din said nothing in response, and you tapped your shoe into the dirt with a little more aggression, staring down at it with a sour expression.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got to adjust some stuff on them for you, anyway, the calibration is a little off.”

“Fine,” you mumbled, still staring at the ground.

“In the meantime, why don’t you try and use this.”

Glancing up quickly with no intention of keeping your eyes on whatever it is for long, you do a double take, your eyes going wide when you see what’s in his hands.

“A training remote…. But how?” You look up at him with wide eyes, not even daring to blink, lest it all disappear.

“You were right, we had most of the parts already, and Kuiil happened to have the rest in his shop. He would have helped you build it if he was here, he was an excellent mechanic.” Din stared down at the ball in his hand, his voice distant. Clearing his throat he tossed the ball up before catching it, bringing his gaze back to you. “I used an old blaster of mine, one of the first ones I ever got from the payout of my first job. It’s reliable and not too powerful, so if you end up getting stung by a bolt, it shouldn’t be too much-”

“Din, this is too much,” you put your hands over his, one under his hand the other cradling the ball in his palm, trapping his hand in between. “That….” Your voice cracked with emotion, and you cleared your throat in an effort to continue. “Thank you,” you finally settled on, looking up into the dark T of his visor, smiling when he tilted his head just slightly to the side.

“Don’t thank me yet. Let’s make sure it works first.” Taking a step back, he flicked it on, and it began to hover close to you, just above your head level.

Pulling the saber from your hip where it has been living since you found it, you pressed the button and ignited the blade, letting the hum wash over you and center your focus on the floating orb.

Settling into a sturdier stance, you waited, reaching out to try and connect with everything around you, to simply feel. Before you realize what you’re doing, you’d lifted the saber at an angle as the ball shoots out a bolt of light. It bounced off the blade, ricocheting into the hills in the distance, and you felt a smile climbing your face.

“I think it works.”

Xxx

You found it hard not to peek when trying to train with your eyes closed. Finally getting so fed up with yourself, you marched over to your bag and pulled out the scarf you had gotten on Tatooine, wrapping it around your head and tying it tight to create a blindfold.

Settling back into a ready stance, you reached out with the Force and turned the trainer back on, immediately tuning in to everything around you as the ball buzzed above your head.

One of the blurrgs bellowed off to your side from its place in the pen, distracting you, and causing the trainer to just catch the side of your arm with a bolt, stinging just enough that you hissed. Reaching out and switching it off again, you lowered the blindfold with a huff, turning to face the pen and lean on one of its poles to watch.

Din had already gotten the blurrgs to calm down, and was even able to ride them for a short time. They still didn’t entirely trust you, but the feeling was mutual. Turning your head just slightly, you saw Din at the edge of the pen filling up the feeding trough with a disgusting looking slop that had the creatures in an excited tizzy.

A few yards behind him the Crest glimmered in the sunlight, looking slightly better than when you had landed, repairs going slow but steady.

You’d taken a break to sit inside and eat something, and Din was supposed to teach you some Mando’a while the three of you ate, but he instead just said a few more sentences in Mando’a and offered no translations, though his teasing tone told you enough to know he’d earned an eye roll.

You all ate at the same table, but you kept your eyes trained on the tabletop when his helmet was tilted back, still not completely okay with the idea of seeing part of his face. The few phrases of Mando’a he uttered when the modulator was out of the way had you completely distracted, lost in the sound of his voice without the creed in the way.

The sun was beginning to set, and you sat a few feet in front of the entry to the house, meditating with the kid. Really you were just resting your eyes while the kid was meditating, but so long as he was still and not eating another frog- you’d lost count at this point and it hadn’t even been a day yet- you’d count it as a win.

You heard the crunch of footsteps coming around from behind you, and smiled, cracking one eye open to peek at Din when he came around in front of you. The smile quickly melted back to something neutral, both eyes opening to take in the sight you were greeted with.

Standing behind the kid, about three feet in front of you, was Din, the sun setting behind him making him almost look like a shadow, but it was still blatantly obvious he wasn’t wearing any beskar aside from his helmet. A simple long sleeved black shirt and black pants was in place where shiny metal usually was, and your brain took a minute to wrap around that fact.

“Not that I’m complaining or anything, it’s a good- it’s a great look for you,” you swallowed, staring at his shirt and the way it pulled across his chest a moment too long before continuing. “But what are you doing?” You craned your neck back to look up into his visor, squinting at the bright sunlight behind him.

Holding out his hand for you, you took it, letting him help you to your feet. Brushing off the dirt from your pants, you froze at his next words.

“You don’t have your vambraces,” he reached out and unclipped your belt that held your saber, blaster, and knife, taking it and gently setting it to the side. “And you have no weapons. Something happens and you need to defend yourself. What do you do?”

“Yell for you and run away.”

A snort of laughter passed through the vocoder, making you smile. Din picked up the kid and set him over by your belt, lowering onto his haunches and producing the little round ball from on the Crest from some secret pocket to keep him entertained. The child took it with an enthusiastic squeal, plopping back to sit on the ground and watch the both of you as he munched on his toy.

Rising to his feet and turning back to you, Din pushed the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. “You asked on Tatooine to learn how to fight, and I think you’re right. Nothing major, just how to land a hit without hurting yourself, and how to take one with the least amount of damage.”

You swallowed roughly, nodding as you studied the ground around you. “Okay. Sounds easy enough.”

“It’s not.”

You scoffed, locking your gaze on the T of his visor. “Don’t be rude.”

“I’m not! It’s the truth. If it were that easy, I wouldn’t need to show you, would I?”

You grumbled something as he walked a few paces away before turning back around.

“It’s just like anything else, it’s a skill you have to learn, and once you do, you’ll be great. You’ve already learned everything else extremely fast, this will be the same.”

You hesitated. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

A moment passed before Din burst out laughing, bending over at the waist and clutching his stomach, ignoring your glare. “You-” another wave of laughter cut him off. “You won’t hurt me, mesh’la, I promise.”

“You don’t know that,” you said lowly, failing in your attempt to fight the grin desperately trying to break free.

His laughter reduced to chuckles, he shook his head at you. “You’re right, I don’t. You get the crazy visions, not me. Maybe you’ve already seen how this plays out, but I can almost one hundred percent guarantee that you won’t hurt me. Do you trust me?”

Your glare turned into an obvious look. “Of course I do.”

“Then what can I…. Okay, how about for every successful hit you land on me, I teach you a word in Mando’a?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Deal,” you said slowly. “And,” you added, his head tilting at your conditions, “if I end up taking you down, you tell me what all that Mando’a you said on the ship and at dinner was.”

He scoffed. “That’s cheating, mesh’la.”

“Oh, and bribing your student isn’t?”

Din groaned, tilting his head back and turning in a small circle before facing you again and nodding. “Fine. Whatever you say, cyar'ika.”

“I need to hear the words, Din,” you cupped a hand around your ear as if you couldn’t hear him.

“I’ll tell you what the Mando’a means if you end up dropping me, but it would take a kriffing miracle for that to happen.”

“I don’t need a miracle,” you stretched your neck side to side before walking up to stand across from him. “I just need to beat you.”

“Careful,” he warned. “Don’t get cocky. That’s a sure fire way to end up flat on your ass.”

“That works both ways, Din.”

Din chuckled, settling into a wider stance, bending his knees to demonstrate, and you mirrored him.

“Now, some basics. Good places to hit are,” he took your hand and laid it flat on the middle of his chest, both of his hands closing over it and pressing it into the fabric of his shirt. It’s only now you realize he isn’t wearing gloves either, the warmth of his hands bleeding into yours, rough calluses contrasting with soft skin brush softly against your knuckles, and the thudding of his heart under your palm making you dizzy. “Here,” he continued, his voice seemingly unaffected, unlike you. “The solar plexus. This’ll knock the wind out of someone.”

He lifted your hand off his chest, pulling you slightly closer and resting your hand on his left lower ribcage. “Here. Rib shots always hurt, but if you place it right,” he drug your hand further back, effectively moving you even closer to him, “you’ll get a kidney shot, which can drop someone if done right.” He took your left hand and put it over his right side just below the ribcage. “Same for over here. A well placed kidney shot can mean you getting away or not.”

You’re so close you have to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact, trying to not get lost in the surrealness of the soft weave of material in place of the usual armor.

Suddenly you’re facing the other direction, your arms crossed over your chest, wrists held firmly in his hands, and your spine is sealed along his chest. Trying to catch your breath, your eyes dart all around until his voice comes right up beside your ear, the modulator popping at the proximity. Staring straight ahead, your eyes narrow as he speaks. “Don’t let your guard down. It’s easy enough for someone to take advantage of one small lapse and then you end up incapacitated.” You let out a huff of annoyance. “How would you get out of this?”

The real question is, would you really want to? He’s so warm, and without the beskar, his shirt is so soft. You’ve always known he was strong, but you can finally feel every muscle as it flexes behind you, keeping you still. His grip on your wrists is firm, but not too tight. His heartbeat steady in his chest, if a little elevated, is a rhythm against your own that makes you want to dance. And there is an overwhelming sense of just wanting to relax and melt into his hold on you, close your eyes, and just be.

“Mesh’la?”

Your eyes that were drifting shut snap open, your head snapping up from where it had begun to loll back against his shoulder. Fighting. Pain. Attack. Right.

“If I could get my arms free, I could easily elbow you in the kidneys.”

“Correct.” His voice sounded pleased. “And how do you get your grip free?”

“I want to say I could headbutt whoever is behind me, but right now with that beskar, that doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

He chuckled. “Good. Okay, moving on.”

He let go of your wrists and you rounded on him.

“Where is my Mando’a?”

“You didn’t land a hit.” He said it so simply, you don’t respond for a minute.

“I did figuratively.”

“Oh. Well in that case, Ni ven'rejorhaa'i gar naas.” (“I will tell you nothing.”)

Your jaw dropped. “Sometimes I want to strangle you.”

Xxx

You’d landed a few hits in the following few hours, Din making good on his promise and teaching you a word for each one. Ni, cuyi, utreekov. It wasn’t until you strung them all together that you launched at him, batting at his arms in frustration. “I am an idiot. Really? That’s what you teach me?!”

Din was laughing, simply raising his arms up to block your feeble blows, taking small steps back. “Hey, you said you wanted to learn. Is that not learning?”

You stopped with a huff, glaring at him as you grumbled. “Utreekov.”

“See? You’re learning.”

The sun was just finishing its set, twilight painting the area in shadows and purple hues. Stars began to twinkle overhead, and they reflected in his helmet, distracting you for a moment.

“I want to try something,” he said, breaking your absent stare at his beskar, and bringing your gaze back to his visor. “Since it’s dark anyway, put your blindfold on and try to sense me like you sense the training remote.”

“Why do I feel like a party trick all of a sudden?” You groaned, your eyes following him as he began to slowly circle you.

“No tricks, I just want to try it.”

“Fine,” you mumbled, walking over to your belt where it still sat with the kid, smiling at him and scratching between his ears as he slept before pulling the scarf out of a pocket on the belt. Turning to walk back, you fold it up properly, and go to tie it, but stop when you notice Din’s extended hands.

“May I?”

Looking down to the scarf briefly, you quickly look back up at him and nod. “Yeah.” Handing him the thin material, he slowly goes around behind you, delicately draping the cloth over your eyes before cinching it at the back of your head.

“Is that too tight?”

His voice right by your ear made you jump before you chuckled nervously.

“No.”

He finished off the knot gently before you heard his footsteps come around in front of you like earlier. You were about to say something when you heard the seal of his helmet disengaging, your mouth snapping shut at the sound. Shortly after, the clunk of beskar being set on the ground makes everything shift slightly.

“I had to take it off,” he said, his voice without the modulator disarming you as usual. “Something is glitching in my display, and since it’s dark, I figured why not.”

You let out a breathy chuckle. “Yeah. Why not.”

“So no headbutts,” he joked, earning a more substantial chuckle from you.

You held your hands up in surrender. “Fine. No headbutts.”

He continued to circle you, coming in quickly after a few seconds, and you successfully blocked him.

“Good,” he mused, backing away.

You smiled as you let everything flow through you, letting the Force guide you instead of trying to make it tell you something.

This goes on a few times, he came in, you blocked, he went back out, until you were breathing heavily. There was a shift in the air before he came in again, and you were unable to place it until the last minute, and by then it was too late, the sharp tip of a blade pressed close to your neck. He holds you closer than before, your noses almost touching, and you can feel his warm breath fanning out across your face.

“Never assume people will play fair,” he said lowly, his lips brushing against your cheek as he spoke, he’s so close.

His forehead rests against your temple softly, and your mind went utterly blank at the contact.

After a moment he pulled away, and you were left trying to find your breath. You heard the helmet reengage, and you pulled the blindfold down, turning to face him to find him looking up at the sky.

“There’s a meteor shower. I bet you’ve never seen one of those, have you?”

You gasped, turning to look up at the stars. “No,” you breathed, holding your breath until you saw a light streak across the sky and you gasped. Quickly dropping to the ground and laying flat on your back, you watched with wide eyes. “No, I haven’t. The lights are too bright on Coruscant, and that’s if you’re lucky enough to be on the upper levels. From the lower levels you can’t even see the sky most of the time.”

After a few more flew by, you sighed. “It’s beautiful.”

Din sat beside you, his head tilted back to watch, but when you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, you found his visor trained squarely on you.

“Yes, it is.”

Xxx

Din POV

He’d almost kissed you.

As he sat there watching the stars shoot across the sky, his mind wandered back to just a few minutes ago.

They were so close. It would be so easy to just…. Just breathe a little deeper and close the distance. It’s right there…. His lips had brushed against your cheek as he spoke and it took everything in him not to move just an inch to the left so they could brush against yours.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. If he was being honest, for two very blaring obvious reasons. One being he hadn’t told you yet how he feels. Well, not technically. He had, but you didn’t know that.

The other…. He wants to see your eyes when he does.

He wants to see your eyes with his own eyes.

Looking down at you as you laid in the dirt without a care, staring up at the stars in awe, he smiled.

There was nothing wrong with his helmet. He just wanted a moment with you without it. Something he hadn’t felt before, and it caught him off guard. He thought if he gave in and appeased the temptation, maybe the urge would go away, but the opposite had happened. Now he just felt contained and cut off inside the beskar, and he itched to once again be that close to you without anything in the way.

Someday.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed, staring at the show in the sky.

Din smiled as he looked at you.

“Yes, it is.”

Xxx

Regular POV

Din had shown mercy on you and taught you a word for every shooting star you saw.

Ka'ra, ca, kebii'tra, ca'tra, dral…. Stars, night, sky, night sky, bright, there was a theme. Nothing he taught you would help translate anything he’d already said, and you knew that was on purpose.

You must have drifted off after a while, because soon you were being woken up by his hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you.

“Mesh’la,” he tried softly. “Wake up, mesh’la. You’re having a bad dream.”

Groaning, you sat up, holding your knees close with your arms wrapped tightly around them.

“Must be the stress of everything. I don’t usually have nightmares.” You blearily rubbed one eye with the palm of your hand.

“Wanna talk about it?”

You brought your arm back around your knee and stared off at the horizon. “Well, at first I thought it was a vision of some sort, everything was normal, but then….” You shuddered as you trailed off. “Then the fire….”

“Fire?”

You nodded slowly, eyes wide. “The kid, he- He had his own miniature flamethrowers and was running around lighting stuff on fire, and we couldn’t stop him! And- Why are you laughing?”

Din was laughing so hard almost no sound was coming through the helmet. You whacked his arm with the back of your hand, quickly regretting it as your hand landed firmly on his pauldron, a smile climbing your face unbidden.

“What’s so funny?!”

“You qualify it as a nightmare because the kid was misusing his own vambraces? I’m sorry, I mean, misusing the flames from his mini vambraces?” He chuckled through every word.

“Yes!” Your eyes were wide and so was your smile. “Anything that puts those things in a bad light just can’t be true- Oh, will you shut up, you big oaf!” Reaching out, you shoved his shoulder as hard as you could, barely moving him an inch, making you huff in frustration.

His laughter had reduced to giggles as he tried to right himself, clutching his stomach with one hand, and shaking his head gently. “You’re something else.”

Xxx

The next day you rode the blurrgs a bit around the pen. They still didn’t entirely trust you, but the feeling was still mutual, and you were more than happy to leave it at that.

You watched with a sense of pride as Din worked with the creatures, all of this seeming to come so easily to him. “So are you just good at everything, or….?”

Din scoffed. “What do you mean?”

You gestured to the walking blobs. “You’re just so good with them.”

He chuckled. “Thanks. The first time I tried with Kuiil I got bucked off or head butted across the pen more times than I could count.” You smiled. “But I finally got the hang of it.” He shrugged, going back to petting the head of the closest blob.

Din showed you a few things on the Crest, explaining how the basics of piloting worked, should you ever need to take over in case of an emergency. He promised once the ship was repaired he’d let you try flying if you wanted, and you expected the thought to scare you, but you smiled and began to bounce in place where you sat in the pilot’s chair, making him chuckle.

Later in the day, you and the child got into some shenanigans that resulted in a puff of smoke rising from a tool Din had been using on the ship and had set down for a moment.

When Din turned and saw the damage, he put his hands on his hips and tossed his gaze between the two of you in silence.

Admitting nothing, you pointed at the child who just said “Eh?” and tilted his head as he looked up at you.

Din let out a heavy sigh. “I hate it when the children fight.”

You scoffed, jaw dropped in shock as the child giggled.

After some more hand to hand training, this time without the blindfold, and he wore his beskar again, you sat beside the child while you took a break, sipping some water.

Din reached down to pick up his own container of water, only for it to slide away from his outstretched hand at the last second. Tilting his head, he closed the distance and reached again, the container just out of his grip as it slid across the dirt again. Huffing, he lunged, only for the container to shoot several feet in front of him, stopping when he did.

He turned abruptly to you and the child, hands on his hips. “Okay. Who was it?”

The kid was walking off aimlessly, hands behind his back innocently as he blinked his big eyes to try and deceive the Mandalorian.

Watching the little green menace enact his scene, you scoffed. “Traitor.”

The child turned to you, and let out a mighty, “Patu!”

“Don’t ‘patu’ me!” You chuckled disbelievingly. “You little gremlin.”

Sighing, Din threw his hands up in defeat, turning away from the two of you and beginning to walk away. After a few steps he pointed his arm toward the water container and used his whipcord to finally retrieve it.

The days unfolded slowly and soon you’d been on Arvala-7 a week. You knew enough Mando’a to stumble your way through a conversation with Din, and still get supremely frustrated when he rattled off complete sentences to you in response.

The child kept getting into mischief and you were convinced there was something in the frogs that made him do it.

The Crest was looking better and better, still falling apart and shuddering every time the engine was turned on, but improvement was being made.

You’d just tucked the child in for a nap inside the hut when a glint on the horizon caught your eye as you stepped back outside.

Narrowing your eyes to try and see better, you reached out with the Force to try and sense anything as you fiddled with your vambraces absently. Din had polished them before giving them back to you, and you smiled as you glanced at him a few yards to your right by the pen. He’d seemed so flustered- You snapped your head back toward the flash in the hillside, picking up on several life forms and waves of…. Aggression?

A surge began to roll toward you, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. “Get down!” You yelled at Din, dropping to the ground as a shot tore through the air where you had been standing. Another came lightning fast and pinged off his beskar, making him groan softly.

Rolling your eyes at him, still standing, you got to your feet and dashed toward him, lunging at the last second and tackling him to the ground as three more rapid fire shots tore through the air.

“Stupid Mandalorian. Di’kut,” You hissed, looking around for any signs of the life forces you felt. (More emphatic form of idiot.)

“You’re learning,” Din mused quietly, his tone sounded like he was smiling as he looked up at you from where you’d landed over him, hovering over his chest to stay low.

Looking at his visor you smiled. “I am. Aren’t you glad you taught me how to say idiot?”

“Among other things,” he chuckled, turning his head to look for the shooter as well.

“Do you see anything?” You asked.

He reached up and pressed something on the side of his helmet. “Three bodies, moving this way fast. All of them have rifles. Go get to cover, I’ll take care of this.”

“Are you really that stupid?” You look down at his visor again, and he whips his head back to look up at you. “Gar cuyi utreekov,” you mumble. “A ori solus.” (“You are an idiot.”) (”A big one.”)

“Ni copaani gar slanar-” (“I want you to go-”)

“K'atini!” (“Suck it up!”)

Din tossed his head slightly side to side in disbelief.

“I’m helping,” you said lowly, staring into his visor before you turned to look toward the incoming bodies. “And that’s final.” Pushing off his chest, you uncliped the saber from your belt and ignited it, standing over your Mandalorian, waiting.

Shots flew towards you, and it was just like with the training remote. Letting yourself simply feel everything around you, you suddenly felt like you had all the time in the world, moving into place between the bolts and their target. Sending beams of light back towards your attackers, you heard Din get to his feet behind you and draw his blaster, adding to the flying bolts sent the enemies direction. One of them fell, wounded, and Din took off on his jet pack, landed beside him a minute later and dispatched him quickly. Only seconds later he was back by your side as the other two closed in, laying down heavy fire.

Dodging behind some crates, you disengaged the saber, clipping it back to your belt. “I can’t repel that much fire,” you mumbled, ducking when a shot made the crate splinter close to your head.

Glancing over the edge quickly before ducking back down, Din looked at you and nodded once. “You take the one on the left, and I’ll take the one on the right?”

You smile and nod. “Perfect.”

Waiting until the bandits were close enough, you and Din stayed silent, popping out at the last second and launching toward your designated targets.

In order to buy some time without rapid blaster fire, you blasted a wall of flames at your attacker, making him stumble back, dropping his rifle in the process. Striding closer with each step, as soon as the flames died out, you punched him in the face, disorienting him.

He was quick to recover, however, and began to throw blow after blow. He was sloppy, compared to Din, but he obviously knew where to try and hit, landing a punch square to your chest, knocking the wind out of you. Stumbling back, you heard Din yelling your name from somewhere to your right. Shaking your head to clear the fog, you jumped back in, landing a punch to the guy’s ribs and earning a moan.

“Sur'ar!” You yelled, hoping Din could hear you. (“Focus!”)

“Gar sur'a!” He yelled back, making you groan before it melted into a chuckle. You landed a punch to the guy's face again, then got a kidney shot, and a knee to the groin, making him fall to his knees. (“You focus!”)

“Shut up!” He yelled at you between moans, trying to kill you with only a look.

Staring down at him in amusement, you heard one blaster shot from Din’s direction before the sound of a body landing on the ground, then the tell-tale jingle of the Mandalorian’s boots as he made his way over to you.

“Gar k'uu,” you countered. “Ne shab'rud'ni,” you said easily to the man on his knees. (“You hush.”) (“Don't mess with me.”)

“I said shut up!” The man hissed, trying to rise to his feet, only to sink back to his knees when Din clocked him on the side of his face with his fist. “We can make a deal,” he whined, looking up at the Mandalorian with his one good eye that hadn’t swollen shut. “Keep the child, go on your way,” he looked at you, a twisted smile climbing his face. “Just leave the bitch.”

You looked at Din, and he looked at you. “Kaysh mirsh solus.” You smiled and Din laughed at your comment. (“His brain cell's lonely.”)

Suddenly the man pulled a knife from his boot and leapt forward towards you with a growl.

Wasting no time, you twisted his grip so he was wrapped firmly in your hold, slamming his hand down on his chest and making him drop the blade with a cry. Using the momentum to continue moving him over, you flipped him over your shoulders and onto his back with a thud, and pinned him down with your foot on his chest.

Drawing your blaster, you pointed it at the man. “Ni copaani gar cuyir k'uu.” (“I want you to be quiet.”)

Before you could think any further, you faintly registered Din’s cry of protest at your side before you were pulling the trigger, and the man was lying lifeless at your feet. Holstering your blaster, you noticed a second blaster entry right beside yours, and you turned to see Din with his blaster aimed at the man, smoke still rising from the barrel. You blink once. Twice. Din’s head tilted at you in concern.

“Are you okay, mesh’la?” He holstered his blaster, reaching out a hand to rest on your arm, but you shrugged out of his hold, eyes falling to look at the ground by his feet. He hesitated. “Mesh’la?”

You began to shake, the reality of what you’ve done sinking in. “Don’t…. Just please don’t touch me right now. I can’t….” You took a deep breath, your voice quivering with emotion. “I can’t believe I just killed someone,” you whispered, looking up into his visor.

He put his hands on your upper arms and held firmly when you tried to slip back out of his grasp. “Mesh’la, mesh’la….” He shook you gently to get you to look up at him again, and he sighed when you did. “Mesh’la, we don’t know if it was your shot or mine that killed him. There’s no way to know.”

“But he’s still dead, Din.” You whispered, tears racing silently down your face.

“And if we didn’t kill him, he would have killed you. Or me. Or the kid.” He pointed to the house behind him where the kid was still sleeping. “Or all three of us.” Your face grew more sour with each name he listed.

“I thought you said they wouldn’t find him here!” You turned the subject around, swiping angrily at your tears and kicked at the fob that had fallen out of the man’s pocket in the tussle.

Din picked it up, pointing it toward you, and the beeping went absolutely nuts, almost becoming one constant sound before Din clicked it off.

“They weren’t here for him,” he mumbled softly.

You began to hyperventilate, your breath coming in shallow pants in and out, and everything started to spin. “I can’t- This- This is- Too much! I-” Din grabbed your arms again, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. “I’m a danger to him, I’ll just attract more attention, get him and you and myself- Everyone in the galaxy killed-”

Din tried to calm you down, shushing you softly, and just listened to your ranting, until finally he had to cut in. “You can’t go.”

“Why?!”

He hesitated. “Because.”

You scoffed. “Oh, that’s a great answer, Din.”

“Because I have to tell you something.”

He sighed again, letting the heavy breath in and out carry any trepidation he still had away from him, and any courage he could summon into him.

“That knife…. It’s more than just a symbol of my clan.”

“What do you mean, Din?” Your voice was soft, your tears drying as you stared at him in confusion.

He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. The words were stuck in his throat.

“You say I can’t leave because you have to say something then you say nothing, I don’t-”

As you turned to walk away, he grabbed you softly and pressed your foreheads together, more forcefully than normal.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been so stupid. I should have told you, and I’m sorry. Technically I told you, but it was in Mando’a and you didn’t understand….”

“What?” Your voice was a deadpan, beginning to connect some dots, and getting lost in others.

He sighed again. “The sigil on a knife, it’s…. It’s a symbol of courting in Mandalorian culture.”

You said nothing. Not because you wanted to, but because nothing would come. Nothing seemed enough.

“Technically the one who gives it is supposed to forge the blade and I kept using that as a loophole to not tell you-”

“Why?” You suddenly found something to say.

He paused. “Because I didn’t know what I would do if you walked away completely.” The two of you just breathed for a moment. You let your eyes fall shut as the soothing sensation of cool beskar against your forehead began to calm your nerves. “I…. I couldn’t take the thought of not having a you to come back to.”

Your eyes flew open, and you reached up to cup his cheeks, looking into his visor through your lashes. “Oh, you stupid, stupid Tin Can, that would never happen.”

“You don’t know that….”

“I know,” you cut him off firmly, using your hands on the sides of his helmet to tilt his forehead more securely into yours.

He took a breath then paused, letting it out on a huff before he finally spoke again. “As long as we’re being honest and everything, polishing the other’s armor is also a symbol of….”

You dropped your jaw and lightly shoved his shoulder, quickly cupping your hand behind his helmet to pull it back to you, and he did the same, his gloved fingers threading through your hair as he did.

“And here I thought you were just being nice.”

“Well, technically I was being really nice,” he teased, both of you laughing softly.

“Oh yeah? I’ll polish your armor,” you teased lowly, laughing when Din began to cough in response.

“Yes,” you said softly after a moment, chuckling when his head tilted just slightly in question. “Yes, I accept, wholeheartedly, whatever. Help me out here, Din.”

“That’s all you needed to say,” he mumbled softly, sounding like he had a broad smile turning up his features. “Gar gotal'u ni bid briikase,” he added even more softly. (“You make me so happy.”)

“Gar nau'u ner oya'cye, Din.” (“You light up my life, Din.”)

A sharp breath through his modulator caught in his chest, his head tilted just slightly against yours, and you smiled.

“Am I dreaming?” He asked, barely above a whisper. “Was I shot earlier and I’m dead right now?” His free hand not in your hair came up to pat down his chest anxiously, looking for a wound, and you laughed, the sound making his movements fade slowly, his hand coming to rest on your cheek.

“No, you utreekov. In the interest of being honest with each other, I may have found a holopad buried in Kuiil’s stuff, and I may have looked up some Mando’a.” His head tilted even further to the side. “But! To be fair,” you’re quick to add, “you were being so annoying and not telling me anything, so I opted for a more peaceful solution than murdering you in your sleep.” (“Idiot.”)

He snorted a laugh. “Good to know.”

You nodded once, smiling. “I thought so.”

“So, then….” He paused. “Do you know what I said on the ship?”

You sucked air in through your teeth. “Unfortunately, there was only so much Mando’a I could find, and that wasn’t part of it. Bits and pieces, yes, but no, I still don’t know entirely what you said.”

“Good,” Din said with a firm nod, chuckling when you gasp at the remark.

“Mir’sheb,” you grumbled. “See, I told you I figured some of it out.” You laughed softly. “I like to think they are the important parts.” (“Smartass.”)

“For now,” Din mused, slowly brushing the apple of your cheek with his thumb. “The important parts for now.”

Xxx

Strapping each body to the back of one of the blurrgs by an ankle, Din dragged them off into the hills after stripping them of their credits, weapons, and fobs.

Handing all three of the trackers to you, you stared at them with disdain, holding them loosely by the antennas between your thumb and index finger.

“What do we do with them?” You asked, eyeing the little tattletales.

“Well, there’s one sure way to get rid of them,” Din mused, hopping off of the blurrg and walking up to you.

“And that would be….?”

Taking one fob he threw it on the ground and smashed it under his heel, sparks shooting out to the side as the inner mechanics broke apart.

Looking up into his visor with a grin, you dropped another on the ground. “Works for me.” Stomping down as hard as you could, you ground your heel into what was left after the sparks subsided. “That felt good.”

Nodding your head toward the waiting blurrg, you lightly pushed his arm. “Go. Get rid of these di’kut chakaar. Get them out of here.” (“Idiotic bastards.”)

“What are you going to do with the last fob?”

You felt your smile turn toward the mischievous side. “Let’s have a campfire tonight.”

Once he had come back from disposing of the bodies, he began to get things set up for the fire. The child ambled around the area where he worked, chasing another frog.

As you made your way over and spotted the little troublemaker, you shook your head, reaching down when he was close enough to try and stop him, but he lunged right as you did, evading your grasp. Once he got back to his feet and tried to scramble away, you reached out with the Force, holding him still until you could reach him.

He squealed in protest, looking around with a sour expression, as he flailed in one place until you scooped him into your arms, holding him tight. “Leave the poor frogs alone.” The child grumbled gibberish at you. “If you eat too many more you might just turn into one.”

Din chuckled as you made your way over to him. “You heard your buir. You need to listen, ad'ika.” (“Mother.”) (“Little one.”)

The sun was beginning to set, painting the world in oranges and pinks, purples and blues, the stars beginning to make their appearance, twinkling through the darkening blanket above.

Turning his head to look at you, Din pointed at the waiting fire pit. “Care to do the honors?”

You grinned up at him. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Aiming your vambrace towards the pit, you flicked your wrist to ignite the flamethrower, only for it to sputter out, barely a spark shooting out of the end. Shaking your arm a little, you tried again, but to no avail.

“You’re already out of fuel?” Din asked incredulously.

“Well, excuse me, mirsh’kyramud, I had someone who wanted me to practice with it a lot over the last week, and I had to use it to save our lives earlier, in case you forgot.” Din just hung his head in response, chuckling softly. “But don’t worry,” you continued, jostling the kid to your other arm as Din turned his visor just slightly to look at you. “I have two of them.” (“Boring person.”)

“Showoff,” he mumbled, mimicking what you had said to him about the same thing on Tatooine.

Extending your arm, you gestured with your wrist again, and sent a wall of flame toward the waiting pit. The wood crackled as it caught fire, hisses and pops filling the silence when you shut it off.

“Nicely done,” Din said, groaning as he sat on the ground.

“Thank you,” you offered quietly, pulling the last fob from your pocket and examining it before tossing it in the flames. “Goodbye.” The little device let off a whistle that increased in pitch until it finally combusted, sparks flying within the little fire pit, and the flames turning bright blue around it as it burned.

Settling onto the ground next to him, you sat the child on your lap, holding onto him as you watched the flames dance. You hadn’t left much space between the two of you to begin with, but Din soon made sure there was none left, scootching over until his side was pressed firmly against yours.

Staring into the fire, your mind began to wander. It must have shown on your face, because Din was soon asking you about it.

“You okay, mesh’la?”

“Kind of. ….I guess,” was all you had to offer. Pondering on it a bit longer, you finally let out a loud huff before starting again. “I just didn’t like going to that dark place again.”

“How do you mean?”

“Right before I- we shot that guy, it’s like I wasn’t myself. It’s like this darkness is always lurking just underneath and comes out at quite possibly the worst times.”

“There’s a Mandalorian proverb. Haatyc or'arue jate'shya ori'sol aru'ike nuhaatyc. It means ‘Better one big enemy that you can see than many small ones that you can't.’”

“Wait, hold on a second. I’m just in shock that you actually told me what a sentence you just said in Mando’a actually means.” Patting down your chest with one hand like he had on himself earlier, you mimicked his words back at him. “Am I dreaming?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Was I shot earlier and I’m dead right now?”

Chuckling, he leaned his shoulder into you more heavily, making you fall to the side slightly.

“I’m just saying,” he continued pointedly, “that maybe it’s okay that that’s your problem. You’re aware of it, and you’re trying to fix it, and as far as I can tell, that’s really the only one.”

“Are you saying I’m basically perfect?”

“I’m saying you're pretty kriffing close.”

You bit your lip and looked back into the fire, willing yourself to not do something stupid like tackle him and smoosh your foreheads together just because he said something nice.

The meteor shower had continued throughout the week, painting streaks of light across the sky above you. There was no need for more Mando’a, or any other exchange of words. Relaxing into the warrior beside you, you leaned your head on his shoulder and looked up at the stars. You knit your eyebrows at him when he quickly pushed you off of him, just enough that he could slip his pauldron off before lightly tugging you back into place.

The rest of the night was spent in silence, closeness, and finally peaceful sleep.

You woke with the sun, its bright rays trickling down onto your face as it broke over the hilltop in the distance. Blinking your eyes open, quick to squint them at the incoming light, and holding a hand up to block what you could, you glanced to your side and saw a sleeping Din. You were in the exact same spots as the night before, your head on his shoulder, his on your head, the fire a few feet in front of you now ashes and a thin wisp of smoke curling up into the morning air.

Even though you’d moved when you had woken up, Din stayed asleep, his head tilted to the side at an uncomfortable angle, and soft snores coming out of his modulator, making you smile.

Peeling yourself away from his side slowly so as not to wake him, you finally succeeded after a few stop-starts. Grabbing your scarf off to the side, you wadded it up into a ball and gently tucked it where your head had been on his shoulder as a makeshift pillow.

The kid let out a big yawn, blinking up at you blearily before he crawled up into Din’s lap and curled back up into a ball, fast asleep in seconds.

Ducking into the house, you grabbed a few satchels of tea you had seen along with two cups, heated up some water and grabbed a few ration packs, tossing them all in a basket that sat on Kuiil’s counter to carry out in one trip. As you passed back over the threshold you paused, smiling at the sight in front of you. Din fast asleep with the kid in his lap, the sun just cresting the hill behind them, the Razor Crest standing proudly to the side.

Building the fire back up into something useful, you paused, looking over your shoulder when you heard Din take a deep breath through his nose, the modulator popping with the sound. He looked around, seemingly disoriented for a few seconds, hand coming up to catch the scarf before it fell, visor falling down to look at the kid briefly before landing on you, a slight tilt finishing out the sequence.

“Good morning,” you smiled.

“Good morning,” he rasped, his voice still heavy with sleep. “How long have you been awake?” He reattached his pauldron he’d removed the night before as he looked at you, waiting.

“Not long.” You turned back to the fire, taking the cup of tea you had steeping for him over some coals off the little grate, turning and handing it to him. “Just long enough to make some tea, really.”

He ran a hand over the top of his helmet like he was ruffling his hair, the absent gesture making you chuckle. “The kid’s going to want something to eat, I’ll go-”

Reaching out wordlessly, you handed him a ration packet, tending to the little warm meal you were cooking from your own packet with your other hand.

He hesitated. “Thanks.” Taking the packet, the crinkle of the packaging must have been the child’s alarm clock, because he was suddenly wide awake and reaching expectantly for the snack.

Turning your focus back to your little warm pastry bread thing, or whatever this dehydrated meal was supposed to be, you heard his helmet disengage before he blew on the hot tea to cool it, then took a quiet sip before the mechanism reengaged. Smiling as you stirred the powdery mix, you were suddenly back at the bar, weeks ago when this all started, and even before, turning away from your nameless Mandalorian friend so he could adhere to his creed and you could still enjoy his company over a drink.

Did you think then that you’d ever be here? On another planet with, arguably, your best friend, and a tiny former Jedi, while learning new languages, new skills, amassing a small arsenal along your belt, beskar on your arms, and a mudhorn on your blade?

No, you probably didn’t. In fact, you’d probably have laughed in your face if you had said that a little over a month ago. But now? Now, there was nowhere else you needed to be. Not a place in the galaxy was better than the one you had right here, wherever these two travel companions, their raggedy ship and your travels took you. Nowhere was quite like home.

One of the blurrgs bellowed from their pen, drawing both of your gazes their way.

Din sighed. “I should go feed them. Let them have a few minutes before I open the pen so they can leave.”

Nodding, you pulled your meal from the grate, settling down beside the kid once Din had gotten up. The two of you watched as he spoke to the creatures in a low, soothing voice, reaching out a hand to pet the middle of their large heads. Looking down at the kid, he stared with wide eyes, his hand in the ration pack frozen as his attention was pulled away from eating for once.

You hadn’t gotten to ride the blurrgs outside of the pen but once, you used the time to focus on training, but Din and the kid had gone on a ride at least once a day. They always took off toward the hills with the child giggling loudly, squealing when Din would urge the blurrg to go faster, the sound coming out in little bursts because of the bouncy gait of the creature.

They’d bring you back little ‘treasures’, the child presenting it to you with a proud smile each time. It was usually just a rock, nothing particularly special, but to you it was. One day it was a bug that had shiny iridescent wings. You’d cringed slightly when you accepted it, trying desperately to hide the grimace from the kid, his eyes shining with excitement.

“I tried to tell him not to give you that, but I think that’s why he gave you that,” Din had huffed from atop the blurrg, making you chuckle.

Every single one, aside from the little beetle you had convinced the kid needed to be released and not eaten, sat in the bottom of your bag, ready to continue on your journey with you.

Din came over and sat on his haunches beside you, turning back to face the blurrgs.

“How did you learn to do that?” You asked before popping a bite of food into your mouth.

The kid opened his mouth expectantly, a belated “Eh?” sounding when you didn’t immediately share. Rolling your eyes, you gave him a bite.

He looked at you. “Do what?”

You swallowed your bite before offering the kid another, much to his joy, gesturing toward the pen with a nod of your head. “Handle creatures so easily.” You looked up into his visor. “Your voice is just so soothing, I don’t know. It just seems like you’ve had a lot of practice or something.”

“I do.” He tilted his head. “It’s the same voice I have to use on a very stubborn friend of mine.”

Your face fell into a deadpan. “You better not mean me.”

“Who else?” He teased. “Gar cuyi ori'atin.” (“You are very stubborn.”)

You scoffed before it melted into a disbelieving chuckle. “Am I, now?”

“The most stubborn.” He sounded like he was smiling. “But I’ve come to expect nothing less. It’s part of what makes you you. Makes you vutyc.” (“Special.”)

You grumbled something unintelligible, making him chuckle as you turned your glare on him. “Sheb’urcyin.” (“Kiss ass.”)

“Only for you.”

“Oh, really now?” You chuckled. “Careful, Din. Don’t get cocky. Your ego can’t get any bigger. Ori’buyce, kih’kovid.” (“Big helmet, small head.”)

Din grunted, angling his visor at your face.

You suddenly felt like prey.

“No, Din, don’t,” you warned, handing the kid the rest of your breakfast before scrambling to your feet, taking a few steps back before Din slowly stood to his full height.

“Don’t what, mesh’la?” He began to stalk slowly toward you, each one of his steps as long as two of yours.

“Don’t make me defend myself. You won’t like the outcome.”

“And what would the outcome be?” He stopped, head tilting further as he stared at you.

“Untangling me from my whipcord most likely.”

The two of you stared in silence for a long moment before you both burst out laughing.

You took off running towards him, catching him off guard, dodging his attempt to grab you and running toward the child. “Kid! Help!”

“Eh?” He squeaked, watching you run past with a turn of his head, then doing the same when Din followed shortly after.

“No one can save you now, cyar’ika.”

Both of you were laughing as you ran half heartedly around the blurrg pen, dodging his attempts to catch you and doing your best to trip him up.

Stumbling back towards the fire, you leaned your back up against one of the large poles making up the circumference of the pen, and stared at the ground as you tried to catch your breath. “I yield, I yield! I give up! Din, I-” Looking up, you stopped short with a startled yelp when you found him right in front of you. “Kriffing hell, you startled me!” He didn’t say anything. “Dank farrik, Din!” You swatted at his chest, trying to create more space between you, but it had the opposite effect, and he crowded in closer. You huffed, your voice quiet. “I surrender.”

“Not accepted,” he finally said, holding still for a moment longer as your brows knit at him in confusion, then he surged forward, his fingers digging into your sides mercilessly, ignoring your screech of protest.

Your cries for mercy soon turned into nothing but laughter as he continued to poke at your sides in the spots he knew were the worst.

It felt like forever, but he finally stopped, easing forward the last few inches left between you, his body gently knocking yours back against the pole, and his coming to meet your front.

Trying to catch your breath yet again, it’s stolen from you when his movements stop after his forehead is firmly pressed against yours.

Leaning your head forward slightly, you melt into the embrace, his hands that had been relentlessly prodding your sides now gently smoothed over them, coming to rest on either side of your waist.

Standing in the silence, you simply share the moment, letting it wrap around you and forge memories for another time.

“We need to get going,” Din finally broke the silence, slowly pulling away from you.

“Okay,” you agree, reaching forward and pulling him back into you. Your hands found purchase in his cowl like they always seemed to do, holding him close. “Just…. Just another minute?” Your breath fogged up the T of his visor when you spoke.

“At least,” he mused quietly, making you both chuckle softly.

A while later, Din slowly rolled his helmet back and forth as if shaking his head. “We really need to get going, mesh’la.”

You sighed. “I know.” You focused on your grip on the material around his neck. “I like it here.”

“I do, too.”

“Quiet, simple…. I think Kuiil was onto something.”

Din let out a soft huff. “He probably was.” The following silence was comfortable. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to know him.”

You pulled away just enough to look up into his visor. “I’m glad you did.”

Finally pulling apart from one another, you double checked everything was packed up while Din went with the kid to get the ship ready to go. You did one last glance around the room, turning in a circle to see it all, and stopping when you saw Din leaning in the doorway watching you.

“Ready to go?”

You nodded, glancing around the inside of the house fondly.

“I’ll open the pen on our way back to the ship. They’ll find their own way out.” He held out his hand to take the bag you were carrying, pulling it over his shoulders before turning to leave the space. He paused after a few steps, looking over his shoulder at you. “Coming?”

You nodded again, not trusting your voice very far with the catch in your throat you were currently trying to swallow down. Walking out of the small home, Din let you walk past him before he fell in step with you on the way to the pen.

He propped the gates open, gave the blurrgs one more slow pet on the head each, then you both were on your way back to the ship, walking up the ramp feeling foreign after so long on solid ground.

After settling in the cockpit, you watched Kuiil’s little homestead disappearing as the ship rose higher and higher. “Thank you, Kuiil,” you whispered. “I had a lovely time.”

The little house was almost too small to be seen when Din spoke. “He would always say, ‘I have spoken’. It was his answer to everything. You couldn’t argue with it. No matter how small or large a matter was, that was the end of the discussion.” He chuckled fondly.

“When you’re as wise as he was, you're allowed to.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

The cabin was silent until the Crest slipped into hyperspace, the mesmerizing streaks never failing to amaze you.

“Din?”

“Yeah?” He turned his pilot’s chair to face you, glancing over to the kid fast asleep in his seat to your right before he looked back at you.

“I’ve been thinking, and-”

“Uh-oh.”

“Every time!” You raised your eyebrows at him as you scoffed. “I do have good ideas, you know. It has been known to happen.”

“I’m sorry, I just hear you say that, and my mind automatically flashes to you hurling a flaming bottle of alcohol in a dim alley saying ‘oops’, and I go to a whole different place.”

Your jaw snapped shut. “Fine. Never mind.” You turned to stare out the viewport, arms coming up to cross over your chest.

“I’m sorry, mesh’la. What have you been thinking?”

You sighed, rolling your head to look at him. “My blaster doesn’t have a mudhorn yet.”

There was a beat where Din didn’t move or make a sound, he just sat frozen in his seat, and you smirked smugly at his reaction.

“Are you….” His voice died off, his head cocking at an angle in a jerky motion. “Are you saying you want my aliik, my sigil on your blaster?”

“Do you want it on my-”

“Of course I do, don’t be a smartass.”

“Only for you,” you smirked, taking your blaster off your belt and putting it in his waiting palm.

He took it delicately, looking down at it like you had the rocks the child had given you.

Like he was holding something precious. A treasure. And in a way, it kind of was.

A sigil is symbol of clan, of family. Something sacred to Mandalorian culture.

But somewhere along the way, it became sacred to you, too. Somewhere along the way this giant shiny man and his tiny green son had gotten under your skin, into your veins, and became part of your reason for living, the very essence of what kept you going, circulating your system day after day. With adventure, with companionship, with a home.

Xxx

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ispiltmymilk24 · 2 months

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Strays who Find Home: Chapter 1

Word count: 1.5 K

Din Djarin:

Grogu was tired and he had made enough credits to last for quite a while, so he had planned to go back to his cabin on Nevarro for a bit. He had not planned to ferry someone across the way with him, and certainly did not expect that someone to be you.

“What the hell is that?!”

Din looked down at what you were pointing at. In his arms the little womp rat sat with eyes wider than saucers and a death grip on his finger. “Grogu.”

“What is a Grogu?” Did you have to sound so incredulous?

“It’s not what. It’s um…” A lump formed in his throat, or rather it had finally got caught in it. The lump had started forming the second he saw the blasted Loth-Cat lounging around the Coruscant shipyard. “It’s his name. His name is Grogu.”

“What kind of name is Grogu?” You're shifting on your feet, hand absentmindedly playing with the strap of the bag on your hip. “Actually scratch that, what the hell even is he?”

In truth, Djarin didn’t know, so he skipped right over the question. “You need a ride to Nevarro?”

“I…” Your voice fell and something took over your eyes. It seemed a vague expression, just a minor flick of the eyes. But Din knew it, he knew you. It was sadness, hurt, confusion. It was an awful sight on your normally bright face.

For a second you two stay staring at each other in silence. It might have only been thirty seconds to a minute, but with that expression on your face, it seemed like hours.

Maker, how did you still look so beautiful? It had been a year, yet everything about you seemed the same. The same bright clear eyes sat in your face, the same ones that he would always be able to pick out from across the room. Soon enough Din found his eyes tracing over every part of your face: your brows, the slope of your nose, the slight downward quirk at the edges of your mouth. Why did you have to frown? You look awful when you frown, or maybe he just didn’t like to see you frown. Either way he wanted you to smile. Din was sure if you just smiled he’d be able to see the smile that captivated so many times. The smile with just a hint of mischievous, as if you were always on the edge of a joke. He’d give anything to hear you crack a joke right now.

Eventually Grogu began to fuss, and he had to snap out of it. He has things to do.

With one hand settling on the kid’s head, he cleared his throat. “I’ll take you.” Din hated having other people on his ship. He never agreed to carrying anyone across space, much less not for some scoundrel he’d made the mistake of helping last time he was on Coruscant. What that scoundrel had left out was who he was carrying. For you, he’d bring you all the way to the edge of the known Galaxy and back. Hell, he used to.

There’s a slight jingle as you shift on your feet, no doubt coming from the bag on your hip. You open it. He stands there like an idiot staring at you, waiting for you to say something. Maker please say yes, just say yes.

All he can do is just watch as you rummage through the bag, it’s the same one you’ve always had: the same one you had two years ago. He stared at it for a bit, not quite sure why he was shocked you still had it, after all you’d gotten long before he even met you and would probably keep it for another fifty years if it didn’t get too damaged. It was a simple bag. One made of leather with a tie to sit around your waist and was probably the only expensive thing you owned. It held your necessities, and the things you could never bear to part with. In contrast, the bag your hand had a death grip around was a cheap felt, and probably only held a spare pair of clothes.

After what was in Din’s opinion, too long a time of shuffling around in your bag you sigh. “Fine, but only because I’m fairly certain I don’t have enough credits for anything else.”

He’d take that. Even if you don’t really want to, and he can tell by your face that you don’t want to, he’d take getting you on his ship just because he was desperate. All he needed was a couple days, just enough to know you again.

You:

Within just an hour or two of quite possibly the worst sentence of your life, you were off. Din’s new ship wasn’t much bigger than the old RazorCrest, but it seems like it. Entering from the ramp there’s a decent sized space with a small living area and a kitchenette, not a storage area with a stovetop to heat ration packs up, but an actual kitchenette. Complete with an oven. Maker knows how he afforded a ship like this. Last time you saw him he’d been just barely less desperate for money than you were.

With a low whistle you turn around in the ship. The cockpit is somewhere at the front, with a small ladder leading up to it. A short hallway leads somewhere to the back, there’d be time to explore that later. “So… what happened to the RazorCrest?”

“Blew up.” Din’s setting down Grogu on a chair, it’s a strangely domestic sight for a man in full armor. The words shock you, and he just had to say it with such a straight face. Well you couldn’t actually see his face, but it was in his tone– was it a straight tone then? It didn't matter, whatever it was, it was for the best that the RazorCrest wasn’t here. You weren’t sure how’d you survive getting on that ship again.

“Blew up?”

“Yes, an imperial cruiser threw a missile at it. Things don’t tend to survive that.”

Something tells you you don’t want to know why an Imperial Cruiser launched a missile at him. “So I guess that means there’s no way I’m getting my blanket it back.”

Din stays silent from underneath his visor. Typical. You had actually really liked that blanket. It was hand crocheted and made out of some special fluffy yarn that you could never find again. You were damn proud of it.

You sigh. “Whatever, I’m going to go put my stuff down,” you look around the ship to figure out where the hell you could do that. Din is still fussing with Grogu, the kid who is now trying to grab something from the table, although it was more than a foot away so you really didn’t know what the kid was attempting. He waves vaguely at the small hallway.

You followed it. The hallway was cramped, as most things on a ship are, and the metal clicked under your boots. At the end lay three metallic doors.

Opening one, there’s a small room. A bed is pushed against the wall and a little dresser sits opposite it. Even a tiny little hammock hangs over the bed. Cute is your first thought, but then you realize. Despite the bare appearance of the room at first glance, it’s pretty apparent ..someone stays in here. The bed is unmade and drawers are not exactly closed all the way. On top of the small desk in the corner lays gun parts. Guess he still loves that pulse blaster. That’s when you realize.

Your face starts to burn as red creeps into your cheeks. It isn’t that big of a deal. Really it’s not like you saw anything. You've seen much way more intimate parts of Din than just his bedroom. Still, after all this time, seeing or even hearing the bare minimum about him makes your mind spin as pleasant memories surface then quickly turn sour.

Trying to shake the memories of sleepless nights and kisses in the pitch black out of your head, you go to the second door, and let out an audible sigh of relief at the normalcy of the room. It’s much neater than the other but has generally the same set up. The bed is against the wall, although with a dark blue cover instead of red, and an oak dresser takes up the rest of the space. You wouldn’t need the dresser, but it’s nice nonetheless. The third door must be the refresher.

You set down the cheap bag in your hand, which holds the sum total of all your hobbies and clothes. It’s not a lot, only the bare minimum things. You’ve just begun to unpack when a chirp sounds at the door.

Resti plods into the small room and jumps right onto the bed, immediately making herself at home the way only felines can really do. Despite everything, a smile overtakes your face. At least in all your struggles Resti has never once not come back. She hasn;t changed since she was a little kitten. A loyal feline companion is what she is, and one who loves toys. You throw a cheap sparkle ball onto the floor and watch her run at it.

Resti was here and you’d get to Nevarro. Everything will be fine. Just a couple days to Nevarro. A couple days until the next job. Just focus on that and not on the cute kid and bounty hunter turned dad only a couple walls over. You had Resti, a ride, and a job lined up. Who cares if you have to face the man who shattered your heart into a million little pieces?

#din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin fic #cross posted on ao3 #writing #fanfiction

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burnwater13 · 5 months

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Din Djarin repairing his original armor while he and Grogu (not pictured) traversed Arvala-7 on foot. Image from The Mandalorian, Season 1, Episode 2, The Child. Calendar from DataWorks.

‘Grogu wasn’t sure what the Mandalorian was up to. He had some sort of tool out and he was pointing it at himself and kind of grumbling and groaning. He hopped out of the floaty chair (which other people called a pram, whatever) and trotted over to him to see what was going on. It kind of smelled like food, but not like any food Grogu had ever eaten.

When he got to the bounty hunter he realized, to his horror, that the human was trying to do something to a wound on his arm. Cook it, maybe? Why do that? Sear it? Again, why? It made no sense. That was not how you healed a wound. Master Drallig would be so upset with any youngling who tried to do that rather than use the Force. The mountain of dishes you’d find yourself sorting and putting away didn’t bear thinking about.

Grogu raised his right hand and began to concentrate on the wound. He was just sensing a change when it happened. The Mandalorian picked him up and whisked him away, dumping him back into the floaty chair. What the heck!? Why didn’t he just wait one more second and Grogu would have been able to show him some appreciation for helping him get away from that gang that grabbed him? Well, the Mandalorian was pretty impatient.

But if Jedi younglings were taught anything, they were taught to be persistent. Grogu watched the human and then hopped out of the floaty chair again when the Mandalorian seemed to be focused on the task he was performing. It looked like the human was trying to fix his armor instead of his arm. Grogu could appreciate that the armor needed fixing, but shouldn’t that wait for his arm to heal…’

Grogu put his data pad down and hopped down from his seat and made short work of leaving the small cabin on Nevarro. He’d been writing his memoirs for over a year and what did he have to show for it? He had input the word ‘armor’ five hundred and twenty-eight times, that’s what!

But did he know how to make armor? Nope.

Did he know how to mine beskar? Nope.

Did he even know what the Armorer did with the Mandalorian’s old armor? Again, nope.

Why did that matter? Well, good question.

He supposed that as he wrote about his life with Din Djarin, Mandalorian Bounty Hunter, Best in the Outer Rim, he’d have some sort of deeper appreciation for his dad and the stuff that protected him (see how he didn’t use ‘armor’ there… oops! Dank Farrik!).

It really protected them both. Grogu now had his own pieces of beskar. A small shirt and a rather large rondel. They were pretty and shiny and he was compelled by his dad to clean and polish them as if they were his teeth and not his second layer. That was annoying, even if it was important.

How did Mandalorians put up with it and would Grogu ever learn to love his armor (dang!) the same way his dad loved his shiny protective plates with all that high tech stuff shoved between the layers? He doubted it. He didn’t even love his coverall. Sure it was functional and it kept him sort of comfortable. He mostly liked it because it allowed him to carry snacks around.

He’d once asked his dad where the hidden snack compartment was in Mandalorian armor (womp rats!). Din Djarin had given him a strange look and commented that Mandalorian armor (he said it, not Grogu) wasn’t designed for carrying snacks around. You could have knocked Grogu over with a feather. How was it supposed to protect your stomach from hunger that way? It was absurd!

The Mandalorian had challenged him to sketch a suit of armor (his fault again) indicating where he would stash his snacks. Grogu had taken up the challenge with gusto and presented his dad and mentor with an absolutely beautiful to scale drawing of an updated and improved Jedi-lorian protective suit (ha!). His dad looked at it for less than a split second and began to laugh. Grogu pouted about that for quite a while.

“Buddy, you can’t bring anyone in warm or cold when you’re towing a whole preserver behind you. I know you can use the Force for that sort of thing, but won’t it get complicated when you have to hide? Or cross a stream? Or use the privy?”

Grogu pouted even more after that exchange. They had both dropped the subject for the time being.

Grogu had been successful at avoiding collecting any additional pieces of the stuff (giggle) since then. He simply reminded his dad that other foundlings needed beskar to protect them, and since he already had all the beskar he wanted as well as the Force, he couldn’t deprive them of the pleasure of wearing the stuff (snort).

Din Djarin had taken that as well as any Mandalorian would have and commented that he would be checking the Creed to see if you could swear to it without having a beskar helmet to wear. Grogu had shrugged. If he had to wear something on his head he would just snag one of his dad’s knee protectors. They were about the right size and they wouldn’t smush his ears too much, then his suit of armor would be complete.

Dank Farrik!

#calendar prompt a day #the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin

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dameronology · 4 years

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everything i need {mando x reader}

summary: din has to rethink his life plans how that you’re by side - not that he’s complaining {i do have a taglist but it’s 1am and i simply cannot be arsed to find it, please accept my not very sincere and very tired apologies}

warnings: much language

enjoy!! sorry for the lack of imagines lately, i’m back at work and working as a director on two of my group projects so i am neck deep in covid-related paperwork.

- jazz

p.s this has not been proofread, because i am just that shit

Din Djarin had never needed a reason to find a home. Settling down permanently wasn’t an option in his line of work. Permanence had never been part of his plan.

Then again, a lot of things hadn’t been part of his plan. The Child certainly hadn’t; if you’d told him five years ago that his firstborn son was going to look like...well, like that, he probably would have drop kicked you into the next rim. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t imagine his life without the kid now, or that he would rain hell on anyone who would dare lay a finger on the toad-like toddler. His life had gone in a direction he never could have anticipated and his son wasn’t even the biggest detour. That was you. Din wasn’t even entirely sure where you’d come from or when you’d come into his life, but he would have first surrendered his ship and everything on it before even considering the notion of living without you. Whether it was simply luck, or whether there was some higher power who finally decided to give him a fucking break, The Mandalorian had a family. He was no longer a lone gunslinger with nothing to lose; now, he had everything to lose.

The fear that came with his newfound vulnerability was a small price to pay, however. In the quieter moments - when it was just you and him and the kid - he had no question in his mind that everything was worth it. Every fright, every concern, every agonising moment that Din spent overthinking and calculating a million and one ways to keep you both safe was completely and irretrievably worthwhile. It was a little unconventional but a family was a family. A clan of three.

You didn’t often get to take breaks. They came every few months, usually whenever Din needed had had a particularly had job. You’d found your place halfway between helping him kick-ass and babysitting the Child (who at this point, was essentially your son too). It meant that days you were running across rooftops in Nevarro with a blaster in hand, and others you were running around after your kid, holding a diaper rather than a gun. The duality was astounding.

The last few weeks had been a little hard. There had been one bounty who had been relentless, and another who had tried to take a hit at you. It hadn’t taken long for you to put the bastard in his place but the Mandalorian had taken it a little more personally than you. Before throwing him into the carbonite, Din had broken a little more than six of the target’s ribs and given him a nice shiner on his left eye. He never minded when he was the one who had a punch or two thrown at him but when it was you? Din never took to it lightly.

Once both bounties had been sent to their respective clients and you’d collected your rewards, Din had set the Crest’s path towards a jungle planet. It was one he had frequented a few years ago - before you, before the kid - and whilst it was a little desolate, it was safe. It was away from any Imps, any potential danger. It meant that you could both let your guards down for a bit and put your feet up. Plus, the Child had been dealing with cabin fever for the better part of two weeks and you were convinced you were going to lose it if you didn’t get the little fucker to some open space soon. Preferably one with lots of frogs, because he was not taking well to the freeze-dried food that you’d been fobbing him with him for the last few months.

You were laying in an open field, weight propped up on your elbows as you glanced out into the grass over your sunglasses. Din was making his way back towards you, trudging through the long blades; the low evening sun was bouncing off the beskar of his helmet, causing you to scrunch your face up. You could tell from the way he was talking that he was exhausted. He’d been on kid duty all day (it was your turn tomorrow) and somehow, that was more tiring that any bounty.

‘Where is he-’

Your question was answered before you could even finish it; the little creature suddenly appeared through the grass, hitting your shin with a thump. Digging his claws into your jeans, he scrambled up onto your legs, plopping into your lap and leaning against your stomach. He peered up at you with big brown eyes for a second, before twisting back around to rest his head against your chest for a nap. There went your evening plans.

‘Did he eat anything?’ You raised your arm out to Din, signalling for him to sit next to you.

Aside from his helmet, he had shed the rest of his armour. The material of the undershirt he was wearing was soft against your skin as you leant into his side, letting it a small hmph as you did. He instinctively wrapped his arm your waist - because even on a safe planet, Din was naturally protective - and pulled you closer, using his free hand to run a finger over the kid’s wrinkly head.

‘I saw him swallow a frog whole.’ His modulated voice replied. ‘It’s still disturbing.’

‘Not as disturbing as when he ate the fish whole.’ You grimaced, glancing up at him. ‘The thing was bigger than him and he gulped it down. Biologically, it doesn’t work.’

‘Nothing about him makes sense.’ He said.

‘The only thing that makes sense is that nothing makes sense.’ You joked. ‘But I guess we’ll find out a little bit more when we work out where the hell he actually came from.’

It was a subject you didn’t approach too much. You knew that one day, you’d have to hand him back over to his own species; it was all well and good to look after him when he was still small, but you had no idea what he was going to grow to be. Finding his home planet had sort of been a secondary quest for you and Din, between bounties. Given how slow the little bastard aged, time wasn’t too much of a concern. Knowing where to start was the problem.

‘I wish we could keep him forever.’ You quietly murmured.

‘Me too, cya’rika.’ Din gave your shoulders a light squeeze. ‘But we have to do what’s right for him.’

‘I know.’ You nodded. ‘What do you think we’ll do after we’ve found his home? His species?’

It wasn’t something that Din had given much thought. He was so used to planning everything in the moment - hours ahead, at most. He hadn’t thought in terms of days, let alone weeks or years. It made sense to, because you weren’t going anywhere. He had an opportunity to have a life outside of being a bounty hunter; you’d shown him that much. He’d found a home with you - a sense of contentment and belonging - but in a physical sense, he’d never thought about settling on a planet. When he was younger, the idea of having his own children and his own clan had played on his mind, but it had faded as the years went by. Maybe it was time to revisit the idea.

‘We could get married.’ Din quietly suggested. ‘Start a clan of our own. Something permanent.’

‘I didn’t realise that the word permanent was in your vocabulary.’ You replied.

‘It wasn’t. Not before you.’ He said. ‘There was a lot of things I never thought about before you.’

‘A clan?’ You intertwined your fingers with his, giving his hand a light squeeze. ‘In a few years, absolutely - but I am not doing it on that pile of junk.’

‘That pile of junk got us here.’

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head - but there was a smile on your face. ‘We don’t have to think about it now. One step at a time.’

There was silence for a minute, as you both pondered to yourselves. In the same way you hadn’t been part of Din’s plan, he hadn’t really been part of yours. When you’d met him, you’d never expected to fall in love with him. You couldn’t see his face, or his emotions or his feelings - but after a while, you saw him. It was though you had seen straight through the armour and right into his very soul without either of you trying. You were first person to see him as Din, and not as the Mandalorian. You understood his humanity, and the fact he wasn’t always a warrior; it meant he could let his walls down around you, and seek support and solace in a way he’d always thought to be terrifying. And it was, at first, but now it felt natural and healthy. He had you and you had him. Nothing else mattered.

‘I’ll go wherever you go.’ Din broke the quiet, eyes falling down to where the child lay in your lap.

‘You’d do that for me?’ You rested a hand on the side of his helmet; it was cold against your skin, but the gesture was there. ‘You’d give us all this up for me?’

‘I’m not giving anything up.’ He replied. ‘When I have you, I have everything I need.’

Din had always been blunt and straight to the point: sometimes it was a blessing, sometimes it was a curse. Right now, it was completely and entirely a virtue. It meant that you didn’t have to second guess his feelings for you, or worry about him leaving you. Everything he said to you was a promise. Talks of your future were mutuals goals, things to look forward to together.

‘I love you.’ You pressed a kiss to the edge of his helmet.

‘I love you too.’ Din replied.

‘So let’s retire right now and get a moisture farm on Tatooine-’

‘- don’t push it.’

#this is a certified pile of crap #i do apologise #it sounded better in my head and reading it back im just #no #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian imagine #mando x reader #mando imagine #din djarin fluff #mandalorian fluff #mando fluff #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars fluff

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beskarberry · 4 years

Text

Krayt’s Teeth

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 3 (The Mandalorian x f!reader)

The sound of crashing and shouting was hot on your tail, the other hunters had followed you and were gaining fast. You saw a light rapidly approaching ahead of you, and the two of you burst out into the brilliant daylight to the worst possible place: a dead fucking end.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 6.7k

Content warnings: Canon typical violence, killing in self defense, headcanon angst, FLUFF, sensory deprivation, body worship, oral sex (f receiving).

A/N: These are my headcanons regarding Mandalorian culture in terms of sex, I didn’t find much lore on it so whether it’s accurate or not idk but I like them and that’s all that matters! Enjoy~

<-Previous Next->

You could have slept forever, even on that horrible little cot you were so comfortable that you could have been out for days, but the only one on it was you. You did’t know when Mando got up from the tiny space you both shared through the night, or how he managed to get out from your tangled bodies without waking you up. You opened your eyes to tiny green baby hands tugging at your fingers.

“Hey booger, is it time for breakfast? Where’s your papa?” You started to sit up, but the horrible sticky mess underneath you made you reluctant to move, a mix of passion and pain from the day before. “Yikes. I’m gonna run all his water out if I have to keep using the fresher. Come on, let’s get scrubbed up.” The baby gibbered excitedly at you, though you weren’t sure how much of what you said he actually understood. You scooped him into your arms without looking back at the sad little cot and all its stains. “You’re water proof, right?”

The ship’s engines were rumbling away, so you guessed tin man was up in the cockpit flying you towards your next bounty. Or Nevarro. You would have to find Mr. Mystery later, the grossness that was you had to be dealt with. Between you and the child your shower took forever, the two of you getting water and soap bubbles from top to bottom. You didn’t care. You had been on Tatooine for months without having a real shower, being consigned to the sonic freshers that vibrated the sand off of the moisture farmer’s bodies; and this was the second real shower you’d gotten to have in twice as many days. You spent a good deal of time trying to get your chatty friend to hold still long enough to be dried off, the little fart squealing with joy every time you went for him with the towel.

An ordeal later you were both fresh and presentable, but your host was still nowhere to be seen, though the ugly sheets had thankfully disappeared from view. The ship was quiet now, without the engine running you knew you had to be back on the ground, and you could hear a distinct hum of activity coming through the walls. Space port? He flew us into town? The thought was replaced immediately with a rich, savory smell coming through the air vents: FOOD! Your gut grumbled loud enough to resonate through the cabin and earn you a confused look from the baby. When was the last time you really ate? You’d been living on ration packs for the last couple of days. That was going to change right now.

“Ya hungry buddy? Me too! Maybe that’s where your dad is, hmm?” Grabbing your old backpack and hooking the baby under your arm you started punching buttons on the wall to get the door open, sending walls sliding and cabinets opening before you got one of the access ramps open. Bright double sunlight nearly blinded you, and on reflex you covered the baby’s giant googly eyes. It took a moment for your own to adjust to the radiant light of the Tatooine morning, and the smell of cooking food hit you like a ton of bricks, making your mouth water. As your eyes adjusted you were able to take in your surroundings: though it was bright outside you were parked low inside a maintenance bay, the walls of which soared high above you; littered with engine parts and humming with droid activity. Sound was the last input your hungry brain could process, but when it did you didn’t like what you heard. The sounds of an argument echoed around the hangar, high and shrill.

“I already told you, you can’t park here! You’re bad for business!”

“I just need to park here long enough to get supplies.”

“Well you’re gonna have to pay up, Mando! I’m not running a charity here! You got credits for supplies you got credits for parking! Up front this time!”

Oh no.

Of all the mechanics and docking hangars in Mos Eisley he had to pick this one. The fireball of a woman barely came up to your partner’s chest, but she made up for it with unbridled fury; and the giant cooked animal leg she was swinging around like a club between bites made her look even more formidable. She noticed you coming down the ramp and stopped grilling your comrade long enough to glare daggers through your skull.

“Oh NO! No nope nuh uh! You can turn right back around and get back on that ship, missy! I knew it! I knew you were bad for business, Mando! What’re you doing running around with her? I hope she’s your bounty because she’s your problem!”

“Peli.” Your words were cold as ice, but the squirming baby in your arms took all the malice out of your stance. He wiggled until you set him down, and he ran towards the mechanic with open arms.

“Baby! You can stay but your dad’s gotta take the mean lady somewhere else! She cheats at sabacc!”

“You lost fair and square, Peli! Try playing a better hand next time!”

“Ladies please!” Mando cut through your bickering, holding his arms up between the two of you like he was trying to corner a pair of wild blurgs. “If I let the child stay with you for the day, will you let me park the Razor Crest here? Just for a couple hours?”

Peli bounced the child on her hip, offering him a bite of her breakfast. The baby squealed happily while he sank his little teeth into the mighty snack, though the size of it comically dwarfed his itty bitty hands. “I’ll tell you what, you let me keep him and then maybe I’ll let you park here in a week.” Mando cocked his helmet at her with disdain and she huffed loudly, “Well if you put it that way, I guess you can park here, but you gotta put five hundred credits down, and not a cent less!”

Mando reeled, stabbing his hands to his hips with indignation. “Five hund- absolutely not! What am I going to buy our-” You interrupted his tirade with a hand on his shoulder, waving a slew of credits in front of his eyes. Peli snatched them out of your hand, fanning them out like cards to count them.

“Who’d you cheat these outta?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You leaned casually against your metal man, eyeing Peli with a smug look on your face. “Let’s go, Mando. Bye baby green bean, have fun with Auntie Cheats-at-Sabacc!” You spun him around by the hand and dragged him towards the exit, ignoring the insults being slung at your back. “We are getting breakfast and that’s final!”

The Mandalorian allowed you to pull him along a few feet before grinding his heels into the sand, shaking his head. “You have to stay here.”

Now it was your turn for sassy head tilts. “I just paid for your parking, buckethead, that makes me in charge and I’m hungry! I’ll buy you breakfast too if you want.” He didn’t budge, fixing you with that intense stare of his and grabbing you by the shoulders.

“You are still being hunted. Mos Eisley isn’t safe for you.”

Ah.

You knew you could look after yourself, and he himself had compared you to a ferocious rancor just yesterday. You groaned loudly, “Shit balls of hell. But dad, I’m huuunngry!” The man bristled at your paternal harassment, sighing heavily and letting his helmeted head fall to the side like the world was ending. He glanced around the hangar exit, his shiny beskar snapping to each object of interest until he located a protocol droid corpse that was missing everything from the waist down. He strode over to it and held it down with one boot, yanking it by the head until it popped off. He began prying the droid’s vocorder apart at the mouth, pulling it wide until the droids face plate broke off with a snap! Tossing the rest of the logic processing unit to the ground, he held the face plate up to the light, inspecting the clarity of its photo receptor casings. He bent back down to the junk pile and fished out a stray wire to thread through the ruined audio processors, then tossed the finished creation to you.

“Put that on.”

You turned the makeshift mask over in your hands to check for sharp edges before you pressed it to your face. The bug eyes on the front were dirty, but you could see well enough. Before you could clean them more thoroughly you felt the weight of fabric on your head, his cloak now worn as your own. The thought of how you must look made you giggle. “You make me take my clothes off, now you want me to put clothes on. It never ends with you, Mando. Next you’ll be forging me beskar. Now can we eat something, please?” Without a word the armored man turned on his heel and walked out the hangar exit. I’ll take that as a yes.

Mos Eisley buzzed with life, people and animals and things you couldn’t explain made their way up and down the bustling streets. The smell of food led you to a vendor selling something that could have been a root vegetable, covered in herbs and spices and grilled to perfection. You couldn't wait, all thoughts of self-preservation went out the window as you hauled ass to the stand, waving two fingers in the air. When you had both of your prizes in hand you stuffed the savory veggie under your mask, sighing contentedly at the taste of real honest-to-Maker food. “Hey tin man, I hope you like... whatever this-” You turned to offer your partner something to eat, but he had disappeared from the crowd. “Alright... more for me.”

Taking a newspaper from the vendor you wrapped the extra snack up tight and threw it in your pack for later, continuing to chow down on your own. You would find Mando eventually, and you had credits to spend. You had held onto your hush-money for months to avoid suspicion, but now it was burning a hole in your pocket. Wandering the streets of Mos Eisley from merchant to merchant you began accumulating a small hoard of supplies, ranging from bacta to hand tools, and food. Whatever you could get your hands on that would survive hyperspace when you inevitably left this fucking dirtball for good; though you still weren’t convinced that you wouldn’t be making that flight in carbonite. You picked out new clothes and underwear, a much-needed bedroll, and some soft bantha-wool blankets. Something further down the marketplace caught your eye, and you made your way to the fancier items that glittered in the double daylight. You didn’t wear jewelry yourself, a poor choice of attire for a hunter, but the way the trinkets caught the light still made you wistful. Your hidden eyes danced over the glittering treasures; jewels and geodes that had been found deep in the sands and polished to a radiant shine.

You spotted something opalescent at the end of one table and found a pair of krayt teeth, each about the size of your palm. They had been sanded to a smooth, flat finish and carved with intricate desert patterns. The backs of them had tiny fittings that could be sewn on as buttons, or pulled off to reveal magnets. Something about their shape seemed familiar, though you couldn’t imagine why in that moment. You purchased the unique pieces anyway, something to remind you that even the harshest of places could hold hidden beauty. After a while you had so much junk piled in your arms that you could barely see over it, and tin man was nowhere to be found. You spotted a courier droid and paid for it to deliver your treasures back to Hanger 3-5, though you kept the pricey teeth in your pockets. With your arms free you started looking for your missing comrade.

The streets were busy with people, you would have to get somewhere out of the way in order to scan the crowds. Your eyes went from shimmer to shimmer, looking for his reflective chrome dome. “Big jerk,” you mused to yourself “‘Mos Eisley’s not saaafe...’ If he’s so worried then where the hell is he? Bah!” The scratched-up photoreceptor casings of your mask made it a challenge to see through the crowd, and you took a moment to adjust the iris apertures so you wouldn’t have to keep squinting into the double sunshine when you felt a hand on your back. Finally. “Mando, where have you-”

“Mando? Whos’sis man-do? Nah sssweetheart, I think you got me confused wi’ sssomeone elssse.” The slithering voice in your ear made your blood run cold. Not Mando! You rocketed your elbow backwards, connecting with the gut of the stranger on your back with an -oof! The hand let go long enough for you to make a run for it, and you tore off down the streets of the busy spaceport, smashing into bystanders in your wake. You cast a quick look behind you to see a large reptilian body flying after you, brownish scales catching the reflection of the noonday suns. Though you had your blaster, the risk of hitting a civilian was too great, so running would have to do. You were thankful for the courier droid that had freed your hands just minutes before as you barreled down the busy streets.

Market stalls flew past you, your boots kicking up sand and dust. The mask on your face, as dirty as it was, kept the debris from your eyes as you raced through the sunburnt city. You had to lose this fucker and fast. You turned down an alley, left, right, another right, leaping over supply crates and low fences like a lothcat. You turned to see if you had lost your chaser, breath heaving and heart pounding. Behind you was clear, but you took your eyes off your path for just a second too long, and were taken by surprise when a heavy weight fell on you from above.

The Trandoshan had gone over the low sandstone roofs, chasing you easily through the alleyways of Mos Eisley while you were none the wiser. He pinned you under him quickly, ripping your blaster off your hip and pointing your own barrel in your face. “Tha’ss enough, princesss! Nice n’ quietlike now. You gonna make me a pretty penny you are.” The lizard’s words dripped with metaphorical venom, though you were sure by the look of those fangs that real venom was probably right behind. “Ahm gonna cart yer arse right back to th’ Guild’n I’ll become th’ most famous hunter in th’ galax -urk!” With a sickening gag the hunter above you grew a shiny new fang in the back of his throat before falling down dead on top of you, a vibroblade protruding from back of his skull.

“Took you long enough!” You hollered at your chrome companion, who was stepping forward to kick the carcass off of you. “Where the fuck have you been? Getting your rifle polished?” He pulled you to your feet, handing you your blaster while readjusting the mask on your face. You swatted at his fussing hands, but when you looked at him you were shocked to see not one but three blinking bounty fobs dangling from his belt. On the ground by the dead lizard was a fourth, flashing rapidly in the sand.

“I told you you weren’t safe! We need to leave right now.” You were barely able to grab the remaining bounty fob while you were being tugged away by your allied hunter. He had a death grip on your hand, pulling you along behind him towards what you hoped was the docking hangar. You would have to cross the main street to get there, and as the pair of you plowed across the dusty, busy road there came shouts from either side. More hunters, fucking Guild! You didn’t have a single second to assess them before you were lead through an alley on the other side of the street. These were darker than the ones you had run through on the west side of town, and shady bodies moved quickly out of the way of your living locomotive.

At the end of a narrow alley you both burst through a door leading into an abandoned building. The darkness was almost worse than the blinding sunlight, you would need time for your eyes to adjust but the Mandalorian had enough sensory detection equipment that he ghosted through the ruinous building with ease; never once letting go of your hand as you tripped and stumbled through the dark. The sound of crashing and shouting was hot on your tail, the other hunters had followed you and were gaining fast. You saw a light rapidly approaching ahead, and the two of you burst out into the brilliant daylight to the worst possible place: a dead fucking end.

“There! Get down!” Mando pointed at a pile of rubble, probably big enough to hide behind, but that’s not how you handled business.

“Fuck you! I’m not going down without a fight!” You pulled your blaster out and aimed at the incoming assailants. He growled at you and stepped closer, putting his body in between you and the door. The reptilian hunters burst from the darkness of the warehouse, firing rapid shots of blaster charges that bounced off of Mando’s beskar. You fired over his protective arm, taking out the first one and tripping up the second, who fell over his cohorts limp body. Mando took shot after shot to the chest, reeling with each impact. His other arm cocked back and shot out, sending a wall of fire into the last of the Guild’s hired guns.

Both of you were panting, shaking and sweating from flying through Mos Eisley, but the sound of blaster fire would draw attention and you knew there was no time to waste. You stepped over the incinerated corpse, making sure the fob it carried was melted, the second body still squirmed in the dirt, and you weren’t going to let it get a second chance, firing your blaster through it’s scaly skull. You picked the remaining two fobs and stuffed them in your pockets, making a run for it back through the building with Mando right behind, the blaze of his flamethrower lighting your way.

You took a different door out of the building and were relieved to see the words ‘HANGAR 3-5′ painted in bright blue Basic straight ahead. You skittered through the entrance, rounding the corner and dropping down behind the edges of the hangar doorway. Mando did the same on the other side, both of you pointing your blasters back towards Mos Eisley’s dark heart. Bootsteps behind you made you snap around, and you nearly shot your mechanically inclined host.

“You kids have fun out there?” Peli stood over where you were hunched, and you lowered your blaster to the ground. At her feet your little buddy was holding onto her pant leg, making big puppy dog eyes at you. You looked over to Mando to make sure there weren’t any more coming, but he still held his blaster out ahead. After a few tense seconds he lowered it down until it was back in its’ holster, then pulled himself to his feet.

“We can’t stay any longer, we’re putting you in danger. Time to go, kiddo.” His charred beskar still shimmered when he bent down to pick up his adopted son, who chirped with delight. “Thank you for watching him.”

“He can stay any time! Oh and thanks for all the snacks you made that droid bring me!” Peli called after the three of you as your party quickly boarded the Razor, making you turn around and stick your tongue out at her. She happily flipped you off and started closing the ground entrance to the bay, letting you board the ship uninterrupted. Fortunately, the courier droid’s delivery had made it to the ship, though you couldn't help but notice a few of your most carefully picked snacks had been taken as collateral. Fucking Peli. As much as she infuriated you, there wasn’t another person on all of Tatooine that you would rather play sabacc with.

The old rust bucket rumbled to life, taking off into the midafternoon sky and pointed towards the stars. Finally! Bye motherfucker. The hazy atmosphere of the outer rim planet fell away below you until the light of the bright yellow world illuminated the Crest’s stern. The pre-Imperial scrapheap started howling with noise, and you were almost thrown to the deck when it blasted into the safety of hyper space.

Your heart was still racing and you struggled to catch your breath. Once you had yourself in order you started busying yourself with putting the supplies away, filling the food larder to capacity. The child was contentedly telling you about his day with his auntie in his cute baby gibberish, and you picked him up off the ground to give him a much needed hug, pushing your stolen identity onto the top of your head to give him kisses. You almost wanted to ignore the sound of heavy armored boots hitting the floor panel under the ladder, their wearer opting to jump down from the cockpit rather than climb. You could feel the fury coming off of him as he stalked over to where you were sorting your treasures.

“You could have been hurt! I knew it was a bad idea to let you go wandering around, even with your face covered. What if they’d caught you? I picked three of them off before you even saw one!”

“I had it under control, Mando! I’m not some princess that needs you coming to her rescue at every sign of a struggle. And you don’t get to let me do anything, you don’t own me!” The man under your scrutiny paced the cabin on stiff legs with his hands on his hips, helmet snapping with rage.

“I know you can handle yourself, but I need to protect you.” He said with a huff, “And that lizard was... he had you pinned down, had his filthy, scaly claws on you... Nobody should touch you like that! What if.. what if he... I- I- didn’t like that he was...” Listening to the sound of the gears jamming in his head made you realize the ridiculous thing he was trying to say.

“Are you.. Mando are you jealous?”

“No! I- I’m.. Cyar’ika I... ”

Oh no, you don’t get to be cute right now. “I don’t know what that means, Mando! What is that, some kind of sexy little pet name you use on all the girls you take underneath of you?”

“NO! I didn’t- I would nev- I’ve never had... There’s never been- no!” Oh how you wished you could see his face, watching him flail trying to defend himself from your accusation, he was probably white as a sheet under all that armor.

“Never what, Mandalorian?”

“I’ve never had anyone in this ship before!” The Mandalorian’s confession lost steam halfway through as embarrassment and fear crept into his throat, threatening to choke him with his own secrets.

“Wait.. wait wait. Never? You’ve never had anyone in this ship or...” You started approaching him, analyzing his visor for hints of meaning. “Or you’ve never had anyone at all?” The Mandalorian stopped his pacing, but his shoulders looked like they were carrying the weight of the galaxy. His silence told you everything, and the last piece of his puzzle fell into place. “Mando...was I your first?”

“Y-yes.” His visor tilted up to you, hands fidgeting at his sides. His voice was faint and sheepish, a stark contrast to the thunderstorm you were arguing with a moment ago. Your eyes were full of questions, all racing through your mind so quickly none of them made it to your mouth. The metal man answered them all for you in one singular motion, raising his fist to knock a couple times against his beskar helmet. His creed.

“So, what, you guys aren’t allowed to have sex?”

He sighed his heavy, trademarked sigh and plopped down on the nearest supply crate with a defeated thud, cradling his head in his hands. “No it’s not that. Not... not exactly. In Mando’a the word we use is me'dinuir. It means ‘to give’, specifically to give yourself to another. And... when you give yourself away to someone-“ He turned the black gloss of his single eye up to you, “-you belong to them. That is The Way.”

The weight of his words made your blood cold. He was jealous, but not just because that other hunter had put his scaly hands on you. Everything about his attitude around you suddenly made sense, the way he had looked at you when you were presenting yourself to him that first day, why he never threw you in carbonite when he probably should have, and how he had stayed with you through the night after you nearly died hunting his bounty. His mysterious way of life decreed that giving his body to you meant that he had also given you his soul, and that made you just as important to protect as his foundling.

Mando reached out to pat the fuzzy green head of the baby you were still holding, who gibbered sleepily up at his armor plated papa. “I’m sorry to put that on you, and I’m sorry for how I acted. You’re not my bounty anymore, and I shouldn’t try to control you. I understand if you don’t want to continue with me to the next bounty. You can take whatever you want from the armory when we land next. I’m.. I’m so sorry.” The monolithic man looked so tiny now, sitting on the edge of the crate with his shoulders hunched. He reached his arms out to take his infant son from you, hugging him to his blast-burnt chest and smoothing his massive ears. "I didn’t get to thank you for washing him earlier, he smells really good.”

You desperately needed to know more, though the sight of him fawning over his sleepy son made your heart swell. “I kinda got the feeling that you were rusty when we met, but that was actually your first time? And what does that mean ‘you belong to them’? How can you belong to me? I don’t even know your name.”

"It means that I’m now sworn to protect the one that carries my soul. I’m not asking you to do the same, you’re not Mandalorian.”

His words made you feel sick, ashamed that you had taken something so sacred from him without a second thought, but how could you have known? He could have stopped at any time, you were the one in cuffs that day, not him. No, out of trillions and trillions of sentient beings in the galaxy he chose to give himself to you, knowing full well what his heritage decreed. Why you? Arms crossed, you dug deeper. “You’ve never seen another naked body than your own?”

He shook his head. “Just... holo-vids...”

You were going to have to ask him about those later. “Nothing? You’ve at least kissed someone before though, right?”

“Kissed?”

Maker fucking help you. “Yeah you know, kissing? The thing you do with your... oh, right." You reached up and tapped him twice on the beskar. “You need your face to do it.”

He cocked his helmet at you. “Can you show me?”

The innocence of his question made you melt. Fuck you, tin can, you’re not supposed to be cute when you’re in trouble. You reached your hand out, demanding he give you his, and shyly he obeyed. You pulled his hand to your lips, unsure of how much he could actually feel through his thick leather gloves. You pressed his hand to your lips and watched his whole body snap straight. “Kiss, like that.”

He was staring at his hand like he’d never seen it before, and after a moment he pulled your locked fingers to his head, tapping his forehead with the back of your hand. “Kov’nynir, But we do it with our helmets.” At this rate you’ll be speaking Mando’a in no time. He still held your hand gently, running his thumb over your fingers. “I think I like your way better. Could... Could you do that again?”

So polite, maybe having him stuck with you wouldn’t be so bad. You pulled his hand back to you, giving him another soft kiss on the side of his thumb, and you heard the sound of his breath catching in his modulator. Your lips pressed to each of his knuckles, and then you turned his wrist to kiss his palm. “How’s that?”

“That’s amazing.”

“You like that? Watch this.” Addressing the bantha in the room would have to wait. You tugged his glove off, revealing the warm bronze skin underneath and kissed him again. The hitched breaths coming out of his modulator were honey to your ears, and you turned his wrist over to kiss his bare palm again, hunting for more sweet sounds. His body was so stiff, so tightly wound you thought he might snap. “Are you ok? Do I need to stop?”

“I- I- want to... Can... Can I try?” You nodded, your heart jumping to your throat at the thought of him removing his helmet in front of you, but instead he gently reached up to the busted droid face you still wore on your head. With a twist of a knob the armatures inside of the eye casings coiled shut, and when he slid the mask down into place you were thrown into total darkness. “Can you see?” You shook your head. “Promise?”

You sighed, long and frustrated. “I promise, dark as a sarlacc’s backside.” You were met with only silence. Then, after what felt like an eternity you heard the sliding sound of metal as the child’s pram shield slid closed, then the shuffle of armor being removed, and lastly the dull thunk of something heavy being set down on the crates. His hand found yours again, and he pressed his lips against your skin. They were hotter than you were expecting, and soft, almost plush. You understood right away why he was so rigid when you were doing the same, it was amazing. Gentle kisses made their way over the back of your hand and made heat flood through your veins. He moved slowly over each joint, following the same pattern you had shown him, then turned your hand over and kissed at your fingertips. Something fuzzy brushed along with his lips, and you imagined that he might have a mustache. The shivers that crept their way up from your captured hand knocked all the strangeness of your conversation out of your mind, but when he reached your wrist he stopped.

“Where else do you kiss at?” You nearly fainted at the sound of his unfiltered voice, a rich baritone that dripped with dark intentions and stole all the words from your mouth. You could only point with your other hand at the forearm attached to the hand he held. Again you felt his lips on your wrist, then slowly, inch by agonizing inch he made his way up your arm, each kiss slower than the last until your toes were curling in their boots. When he reached the edge of the tunic’s sleeve that hung at your elbow he paused again. “Where else?”

“Everywhere.” Your tormentor hummed at your consenting words and let go of your hand to run his palms down your clothed thighs. When he reached your knees he pulled on their joints, bidding you to bring your legs up over his lap. When you were seated on him he resumed his trek up your arm, kissing at the crease of your elbow and then upwards over your tunic until he reached your shoulder. When he got to your neck you almost buckled over, but his hands were at your back in an instant, wrapping heavily around your waist. Your own hands made their way to the nape of his neck, and your fingers found the edge of his hairline that you had felt before. To your delight you felt that the tousled curls went all the way up, and you tangled your fingers in them, exploring their softness while he explored you.

His journey led him up your neck to the base of your jaw where he nipped gently at the sensitive skin like you had done to him last night, sending a fresh wave of goosebumps from your head to your toes. When his nose bumped the edge of your mask you were suddenly aware of how silly you might look with your big bug eyes. “Can I take this thing off?” you asked in a whisper. “I won’t look.”

“I have a better Idea. Hold on tight.” You dug your hands into his shoulders and felt his arms wrap under your legs as he stood up, lifting you with such ease that you wondered if he felt your weight at all. His boots echoed through the cabin until he stopped at the other end. You hung on for dear life while he climbed the ladder with you still wrapped around his front. When you both reached the top you let yourself unwind from him and scooted on your butt over the floor, listening to the sound of him pulling himself all the way up. You remained seated as your host fussed around the flight deck, the noise of buttons pressing and switches being thrown the only input to your deprived senses.

You were only unattended for a moment, then his hands found your waist, fishing for the edge of your shirt. The tunic was pulled up and over your head, taking your mask with it, and you squeezed your eyes shut to protect his modesty; unsure of what his unconventional oath to you included in the fine print. Your diligence was rewarded with a kiss on your forehead, then down to kiss both of your closed eyes, and then lastly to your lips. The searing heat of his mouth on yours threatened to throw your eyes open, but when they fluttered all you saw was darkness. The transperisteel’s blast shielding had been closed, and the only light in the cockpit came from a handful of illuminated buttons on the dash.

He was lying over top of you on the metal floor, one arm wrapped under your neck for support. The cold decking under you was uncomfortable, but you couldn’t be bothered to care, letting yourself be consumed by his kisses and becoming drunk on the scent of leather and adrenaline. The soft fuzz of his facial hair tickled slightly as he pressed into your lips, and you couldn’t help but smile. Your hands went to his face, running your thumbs over his cheeks and feeling what you weren’t allowed to see. His face was scruffy but not unkempt, and the bristles went all the way from his jaw up to the bottom of the defined nose that bumped against your own. You felt the creases on the corners of his eyes, wishing you could see his smile lines and all the stories they would tell.

You kissed him back, letting your tongue glide over his plush lips and making him inhale sharply. You licked into him again, and this time you were met with his tongue as well, just the faintest touch of its tip. He hummed in your mouth, and the sound of him so close made your belly pool with heat and your kisses bolder, sending your tongue deeper into his mouth until he was almost vibrating with the sensation of you exploring something as forbidden as his human body. He mirrored you as best he could, rolling the smooth muscle over your lips and the edges of your teeth until you were both lost in each other’s taste. He pushed his forehead against yours, pulling his mouth away with frantic breaths that spread fire over your skin. “Everywhere?”

You pushed your lips against his again, giving him an ambitions ‘Mmhmm’ as an answer. His growl made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you realized where his goal was. He kissed and nipped his way down your throat, letting his tongue glide over your skin. He made his way to your breast, taking its’ tender tip between his teeth and making you gasp. He sucked at it gently, rolling his tongue around it while it grew harder for his efforts. The hand not under you groped at your free breast so it wouldn’t be ignored.

"Beep!”

An urgent chime echoed in the tiny space, the hyperdrive indicator was flashing its countdown warning: 10 minutes remain.

The Mandalorian’s growl on your breast made your blood turn to ice and your core flush with heat at the same time. He wanted to devour you, taste every single inch of your exposed skin, but time was not on your side; and he became a man on a mission to prove himself worthy of you. Bristles dragged over your skin as he slid down your belly until he hit the edge of your pants. They were yanked off so fast you briefly worried about the krayt teeth that were still in their pockets, but you didn’t have long to think before Mando was poised over the apex of your thighs, kissing at each leg to make his intentions known. Those must be some good holo-vids you’re watching, tinman. You let him push your legs apart with his chin, receiving a soft kiss on each one once they were far enough apart for him to stuff his face in between.

Your back arched, hard, followed by the most ragged moan you‘d ever heard escape your throat. The grip on your thighs kept you in place as he lapped at your clit, sucking and teasing in an experimental way. His inexperience didn’t seem to matter, his hunger for you fueling his efforts and making you squirm in delight. Your hands sought desperately for something to grab onto to keep yourself grounded, finding his lovely curls to bury your fingers in deep. It was all you could do to hold on for dear life, tangling in his hair and struggling to breathe as he worked you into a frenzy.

The noises coming from below your waist were heavenly, wet and greedy in between his hums of contentment. It took you a while to realize they weren’t hums at all, but alien words of worship being prayed at your sinful altar; but the blood pounding in your ears and the gasps from your throat were too loud for you to hear his devotion.

“Beep beep!” Five minutes remain. Fuck.

The Mandalorian’s efforts doubled, running his tongue almost too quickly in his attempt to eat you alive. You let your hips grind into his mouth, begging him to bring you your release, and it wasn’t long before he succeeded. Stars flashed behind your eyes as you came into his hot open mouth, but he refused to leave until he had drank his fill of you. Eventually he pulled his face away from your spent heat with agonizing slowness, as if he would rather drown than address the impending drop from hyperspace. He kissed at your shaky thighs, your soft belly, and each breast before pressing his lips into your panting mouth, pushing the taste of you onto your own tongue. His breath was ragged, and you could feel the sweat of his brow where it was pushed against your face.

He lifted away from you, and the weight of the handmade mask was draped over your face, making you groan with the displeasure of your passion being cut short. However, once it was in place, it was almost immediately pushed under by strong fingers to lift its edge, and you were given one last kiss to swear his promise of return to you.

“Din. My name is Din.”

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TAG LIST @mrsparknuts @cookiejuicedesu @mandoinevarro @kaermorons

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #self insert #bargaining with beskar

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raiseyourcups · 4 years

Text

Cabur

Chapter Nine

Pairing: Din Djarin x Original Female Character (Aili Verdella) Warnings: Reckless piloting of the Razor Crest, Aili calls Mando stupid but what else is new, she also threatens Toro but who wouldn’t, a little more pining (someone please catch the classic reference I used), people imply those two are together Word Count: 3.5k Also on AO3

Masterlist

Summary: After a dogfight, the Mandalorian, Aili, and the Child take a pit stop on Tatooine where Mando finds them a job teaming up with a wannabe Guild member. Aili thinks Mando is hilarious when she finds out who they’re going after but she wouldn’t miss out on this job for anything now. Even if their “partner” is as big an idiot as Mando.

"Move!" Aili shoved the Mandalorian as hard as she could before grabbing the main piloting controls from him. He wasn't the worst pilot but if they wanted to make it out of this dogfight in one piece, they'd need a little more finesse. He had already let the other bounty hunter land a hit on one of the engines. She shook her head in exasperation when Mando didn't move from the pilot seat so she stood in the small space between his seat and the controls.

"I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold," the hunter said over the comm and Aili rolled her eyes at the cliche saying. She didn't even bother saying anything, pulling the controls hard to the side to avoid another shot.

"That's my line." Mando said from behind her and Aili let out an irritated sound. Was that really what he was annoyed about right now? It didn’t matter though, she was too busy calculating a way to get rid of the other hunter. It took another half a second before she knew what to do about him but she wasn't in a chair right now because Mando didn’t seem to want to move.

"Do me a favor, di’kut, don't let me go flying into the ceiling." She didn't give Mando a chance to ask what she meant before she started to pull the ship into a barrel roll in order to land in the space behind the other hunter's ship. She heard Mando let out a noise of surprise when the flip started and he moved forward to place one hand on her waist to keep her from losing her balance, his other hand coming to rest against the small of her back to keep her from moving backwards. She blamed the way her stomach lurched on the barrel roll itself because obviously that’s what it was that caused it.

"Thanks." She said, before aiming at the other ship and firing once it was in the sights. She smirked as she heard the man scream before the ship exploded. "And that's how you do that."

She didn't get more time to gloat when the ship gave a sudden lurch and she fell backwards onto the Mandalorian's lap. His one hand was still on her waist while the other one slipped from her back to the other side of her waist. Aili’s side involuntarily twitched at the way his hand moved but she decidedly ignored this.

"That's the engine." She scrambled out of the Mandalorian’s hold and got back to her own seat to check over the nav panels. She had absolutely no idea where they were.

Mando took a moment, flexing his hands before shaking his head and checking over his own panels, "We're losing fuel."

“Well that’s just great,” Aili said, finally figuring out what the nearest planet to them was. Thankfully it was a useful one. “Tatooine is our best bet.”

That was when the engine powered down and everything shut off, including the lights. The Child let out an excited coo and Aili wondered how he could find this fun. Then again her idea of fun as a kid used to be getting a new blaster so maybe she wasn’t the best judge. Mando let out a sigh and got up to power the engine back up, though it wouldn't last much longer. They were right by Tatooine like Aili said and Mando made for it, switching on the radio as he did.

"This is Mos Eisley Tower, we are tracking you. Head for bay three-five. Peli Motto is the mechanic there, over." The tower operator’s bored voice sounded throughout the cabin.

"Copy that," Aili said, giving Mando the chance to put all of his focus on getting them through the atmo without killing them all. "Locked in for three-five."

He brought them in as smoothly as possible, Aili would give him a little credit for that considering the engines had both taken hits. She wasn’t going to do so out loud though, he still hadn’t thanked her for fixing the gen room. She had nightmares about the crossed wiring and still wondered how it hadn’t blown up earlier.

Aili winced as she heard the creaking and groaning as the landing gear came out. Yeah that, that wasn’t good. “Here’s hoping it’s not too expensive,” Aili said as they both got up from their seats. A quiet coo distracted Mando before he could reply and Aili let out a quiet chuckle as she looked down at the Child whose eyes were drooping closed.

Aili watched as Mando laid the Child down in the cot, a small smile on her face. He had gotten himself so excited earlier that now he had tired himself out. They headed down to the gangway and that's when Mando decided to shoot at the ground in front of the small droids.

"What the kriff, Mando?" Aili exclaimed, her immediate reaction being to reach over and force his blaster arm down to his side. "It's just a pit droid!"

"Hey! You damage one of my droids and I'll make you pay for it!" The mechanic, Peli, came out shouting and Aili knew she’d have to turn up the charm now. If there was one person you didn’t want to piss off, it was the one who was going to be fixing your ship. Mando was lucky last time when she helped fix the gen room because she was also stuck on the ship so no matter how much he pissed her off, she wouldn’t cross any wires. Not if she wanted to stay alive that is.

Aili turned to the mechanic, Peli, and gave her an apologetic smile. The one that worked on everyone that she had ever met. "Sorry about him."

"Keep them away from my ship," Mando said, walking the rest of the way down the gangway with Aili behind him. She felt her eye twitch in annoyance.

"Really sorry about him,” Aili added, subtly reaching over and pinching him hard through the arm of the suit he wore. He flinched and looked down at her, she could read the irritation in his body but she didn’t care. She shook her head at him, her brow furrowed in annoyance, before turning back to the mechanic with another smile.

"Yeah well let me take a look at your ship. See if that’s a good idea." Peli walked over to the Crest, banging on one section before she looked up and pulled out a scanner. “You’ve got a lot of carbon scoring up top. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were in a shootout.”

“We were, some idiot bounty hunter got our ship confused with another. Took us almost half a parsec to lose him,” Aili said, making sure to sound as exasperated as possible. The mechanic turned to look at her, sizing her up almost to see if she was lying.

“Huh,” Peli finally shrugged, turning back to the ship. “I’m gonna have to rotate that. You’ve got a fuel leak! This is a mess, I’m surprised you could even land!”

“We were honestly just glad to break atmo without anything catching on fire.”

She walked away from the ship and looked at them with pursed lips, “This is gonna set you two back.”

“I’ve got 500 Imperial credits,” Mando said, pulling the credits out as he did.

“And I have 500 Calamari Flan,” Aili added as she pulled her credits out as well, already internally wincing at the fact that she was having to dip into the nest egg she had saved up. But it wasn’t like they had been able to take any jobs since leaving Nevarro, the villagers on Sorgan had already been kind enough to not charge them anything for their room and board. Had said taking care of the raiders was enough payment for the three of them to stay for weeks.

“That should cover the hangar and the fuel leak,” Peli said as she took both of their payments.

“We’ll get you your money.” Mando said shortly. Although Aili thought she heard a hint of embarrassment in his tone. She couldn’t blame him, even when times were rough she always had enough to get her ship fixed when it needed to be. Right now though she was trying to keep a persona on and since she was the only one who had a visible expression, it all fell on her to sell the act.

“Heard that one before.”

“Just remember-”

“She gets it Mando, no droids. Why don’t you head out and I’ll catch up with you at the cantina in a few?” Aili ordered more than asked while still keeping her voice even. Mando stared down at her for a long moment before nodding and turning to leave. She knew he’d have no option other than the cantina because there was nowhere else to ask around for a job on the planet anyway. She watched as he left before turning to face Peli again.

“I’m really sorry about him, it’s been...a very long day,” Aili said, brow a little furrowed as she spoke to Peli. Hopefully she wasn’t selling it too hard but she couldn’t be bothered to really try at the moment.

“With the amount of damage you took, I can imagine.” Peli said, brow still raised in annoyance. She still thought she wouldn’t be getting paid for her work and Aili couldn’t blame her. They had barely given her enough to cover the hangar and one of the multiple repairs they needed.

“We promise to pay you, this is Tatooine. There’s always some idiot with a job.”

“Been here often?”

“More times than I’ve wanted.” Aili let out a short laugh with no actual humor behind it. “I should go catch up with him, make sure he doesn’t pick a crap job.”

“Good luck with that, he doesn’t seem like the brightest star in the galaxy.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Aili turned to leave when she paused at the thought of the sleeping Child on the ship. Maybe she should tell the woman about him, but she didn’t know how far information on his bounty had travelled. She wrestled with herself for a moment before turning back to face Peli.

“Oh, also I just want to let you know that we have a child on the ship, but he’s sleeping right now.”

“You and the Mandalorian have a child?” Peli asked, voice incredulous at the thought. She had noticed the way the other woman had seemed to barely tolerate the Mandalorian and vice versa.

Aili couldn’t stop the full body shudder that went through her at the mere thought of not only having a child but having one with the Mandalorian. “Oh Maker no! No, ew, long story. But he’s sleeping and I’d rather not take a baby to a cantina anyway so…”

“I’ll watch him if he wakes up but it’ll cost extra if he’s fussy, I’m not a babysitter.”

“Thank you, anything I can bring back from the cantina for you?”

“Not this time. Go ahead and catch up to that Mando before he pisses anyone else off.”

Aili gave Peli one more smile and nod before turning to head out the same way that Mando had. Hopefully he hadn’t already found a job without her. She didn’t want to get stuck with anything barely worth it or even something that would be impossible to manage. Not that there was a lot she couldn’t handle but she still wasn’t sure about Mando. She had yet to really see him in a fight.

It took a while to get to the cantina as it was nowhere near Peli’s bay. Aili let out another annoyed sigh, really hoping that Mando hadn’t found a job yet without her. She felt like she needed to vet anything he found because he clearly didn’t know how to pick his battles. First he chose to take on an Imp job for beskar (which she understood, beskar belonged to Mandalorians to do with as they saw fit) but then he hadn’t been able to tell that the job on Sorgan would actually be worth it until he met an attractive, single widow who looked at him like he hung the sun in the sky. She got it, the idea of being able to settle down was always on her mind, but it wasn’t feasible at the moment.

“Kriff!” Aili cursed as she narrowly avoided bumping straight into a beskar covered chest. She hadn’t even noticed he was there, so lost in her thoughts about how dumb he was. She glared up at the Mandalorian, “I said I’d meet you inside.”

“We have a job already,” he said, walking back towards Peli’s hangar before Aili could say anything.

“Oh we do? How much?” Aili asked, keeping up with him easily, but she was a little impressed that he had found a job so quickly. People were usually wary around obvious bounty hunters and Mando was obviously one with all that hard, shiny armor.

“More than enough. Dumb kid named Toro Calican wants help taking down Fennec Shand in the Dune Sea so he can join the Guild.”

Laughter bubbled up and escaped Aili’s mouth before she could stop herself. “Sorry, did you just say Fennec Shand? The mercenary slash assassin?”

“Yes.” Mando paused before his helmet tilted to the side, mistaking her laughter for nervousness, “You don’t have to come with us.”

“Oh I’m going with you, if only to see you get your ass handed to you again,” Aili laughed again, knowing that she wouldn’t miss this job for anything in the galaxy. “How are we splitting the pay?”

“Says he’ll give us all of it. Just needs it done to get into the Guild,” Mando explained as they kept walking back to the hangar.

“Is this kid stupid or what?” Aili asked, taken aback because she just knew that any bounty on Fennec Shand had to be high. Like, afford a brand new ship money.

“He broke the tracking fob rather than giving it to me, so yes. But he’s going to meet us in half an hour with speeder bikes.”

“Wow, actually is this kid related to you? Because that’s some top class stupidity,” Aili said, smirk on her face when Mando paused for about half a second before continuing to walk, a little faster now so Aili had to almost jog to keep up with him. She supposed she deserved that for her comment but now he was just using her short legs against her. They made it back to Peli’s hangar faster than it took to get to the cantina, mainly because of the Mandalorian’s pace.

He walked straight for the ship while Aili figured she’d wait for him to grab his gear before she went for hers. She had barely sat down on an empty fuel drum when he stalked back out and headed for one of the pit droids.

“Hey!” He shouted, causing the pit droid to let out a scared sound before collapsing onto itself. “Where is he?”

“Mando, stop scaring the droids!” Aili didn’t know what his problem with droids was and frankly she didn’t care. But he needed to stop scaring them otherwise she was going to hit him. The sound of the Child crying took her attention away from Mando and she watched as Peli came forward with the Child in her arms.

“Oh you woke it up! Do you have any idea how long it took for me to get him to sleep?” Peli complained as she tried to bounce the Child a little to calm him down. Aili gave Mando a side glare since she knew it was his shouting that had scared Little Green.

“Give him to me,” Mando demanded, pointing a finger at Peli.

“No, I’ll give him to her because she has a head on her shoulders,” Peli said, handing Aili the Child. “She at least let me know he was still on the ship rather than just walking out without saying anything.”

Aili took the Child in her arms, giving him a smile as he let out a quiet sniffle. She ran a finger down his nose, her smile getting a little bigger when he stopped crying and a small smile appeared on his face. No one saw the look Mando was giving her behind his helmet before he shook his thoughts away and turned back to Peli.

"Got started on the repairs, fixed the fuel leak. Everything else is still a mess except for the generator room. Whoever fixed that knew what they were doing,” Peli sounded a little impressed and Aili smiled over at the mechanic.

"Thank you,” Aili said, glad that someone appreciated the hard work she had put into fixing the mess Mando had called a working gen room.

"Ah I knew it wasn't Mando who did that."

"I could have,” Mando said, clearly peeved with the two woman talking about him like he wasn’t even there. They both turned to look at him, Aili with one brow raised because she knew how useless he had been the whole time she was fixing his mess. She couldn’t see as he flushed under her stare but he didn’t try to say anything else. Smart move.

Peli looked him up and down. "Sure you could. There were a couple of setbacks I wanted to talk to you about.”

Aili watched as Mando headed back up the gangway and grabbed his pack. She went up as well once he was back down and she grabbed her own small go-bag. It only had weapons she considered essential and a couple of ration bars along with a waterskin that she always kept ready to go.

“I figured you two would be good for the money since you’ve got this little one to feed,” Peli said, nodding her head towards the Child that Aili was still holding. The Mandalorian stared at Peli silently before tilting his helmet towards her.

“Thank you,” was all he said before walking away just as quickly as he had walked in again. Aili watched him walk away

“A brief moment of manners and then he just...screws it all up,” Aili mumbled under her breath as she walked after him, nodding for Peli to come with her.

“So you got a job?” Peli asked, following after the two of them. “‘Cause you know it costs a lot to keep these droids up and running.”

“We did and I know, we should be back soon. Seems like an easy enough job to me,” Aili said as she and Peli stepped back out into Tatooine where Mando was waiting with the dumb kid that they had partnered with.

“Check it out, Mando. Not too shabby, huh?” Aili stood back with Peli as she looked the young man up and down. He seemed too...clean to be a bounty hunter but there was something else about him that she didn’t like. He seemed too eager and that was dangerous when it came to high paying bounties. She turned her attention over to where Mando was inspecting their speeder bike but he didn’t seem impressed when he looked back up at the wannabe bounty hunter.

“What do you expect? This isn’t Corellia.” Toro shrugged before turning to look back at Peli and Aili, only recognizing Peli. He gave the Child a confused look before he looked up and Aili. “This your wife and...kid?”

Aili gave him a blank stare knowing that she had not just heard him refer to her as Mando’s wife. “Call me that again and I’ll make sure you never join the Guild.” She handed the Child over to Peli before taking a step towards the speeder bike she was obviously going to share with Mando and tying her own pack down. Mando stood beside her stiffly.

“Really and how will you do that? Get your husband to kill me for you?”

“Do you like breathing?” Aili asked, lunging forward to attack the boy but Mando wrapped a hand around her upper arm to stop her. She still enjoyed the way the little boy flinched despite her not getting anywhere near him.

“Enough, get on the speeder,” Mando said, looking down at Aili before looking over at Toro and nodding for him to do the same.

“Fine,” Aili said after giving Toro one last hard look. She got up on the speeder, Mando getting on behind her and reaching forward to take the handles before she even had a chance to reach for them. She rolled her eyes and scooted as far up as she could to put distance between her and Mando. She wouldn’t fall off as long as he kept the bike steady which if he knew what was good for him, he would. Then they were off for the Dune Sea.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x original character #din djarin imagines #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x oc #mandalorian imagine

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dindooku · 4 years

Text

this is a short chapter compared to the others as i am completely overwhelmed with uni work - but i’ll make sure that the next chapter is mega juicy xo

The hot water of the fresher was probably one of the best feelings you’d ever felt. The streaks of water melting your anxiety away, washing your pores of any doubt and residual fury; swirling into the drain and freeing your mind of their heavy burden. You felt lighter now. The soap Mando had given you soothed your joints, the homely pine smell comforting you. He’d made sure to give you some clean clothes before you showered, he wanted to make sure you felt as comfortable as possible.

tw- explicit - 18+, smut (not heavy)

word count: 5,627

You placed the clothes on your bed in your cabin. He explained that one of the pucks that Karga had given him was on a peaceful planet, suggesting that you could all spend some time there to relax a little. You were a bit shocked that he wanted to return to work so quickly, but the reality of life probably meant that he didn’t have a choice. The fact it was a quiet planet though was soothing, no more drama for a while. You needed a break from it all. Your peaceful revery was interrupted by the heat of your core, now slowly simmering. The shadow of his hand still pressed against your back, the warmth and desperation of his lips pressed to yours as he made his intentions towards you very clear in the hull of his ship. You closed your eyes, envisioning that moment in the darkness, that sweet moment where time slowed and your only focus was him. His heavy heat pressed against your hip, slowly rocking in time with his touch, with your touch, your breathing.

_____

A couple days had passed and you found yourself falling into the same mental conversation, now only a few hours away from your destination. You had decided to take a shower to try and pass the time. Turning the water as hot as you could manage, you stood, stewing. This was your release for you. Sure, the ship was big and you had your own cubby, but Mando’s presence was simply overpowering and you never felt like you had privacy; like he was somehow watching you and judging everything you did, like he knew how affected your were by him. He’s found a way to wind you up. Two nights now you’ve found that you’ve had to give into your cravings to release the overbearing pressure of your core. You’d find that even just one thought sent you down a rabbit hole, one you couldn’t escape without touching yourself. The way he spoke, how he’d commanded you, and how you’d just do it. Normally you hate being told what to do, but weirdly you found yourself craving his dominance, his commands. You wanted him to take control of you.

There hadn’t been any conversation about what had happened back on Nevarro, and despite your prominent feelings towards the Mandalorian, you were glad that nothing had been said. You didn’t even know how to even approach the situation in your head let alone in person; the thought of it always sent you giddy at the thought of his angsty touch…you knew if he even brought it up you would not be able to function. So, you took yourself to the shower every time you felt overwhelmed by the manifested rolling camera-film of his body against yours blurring your mind, your consciousness. He was simply intoxicating. The shower was your private space - you knew he wouldn’t be watching or listening to you here, and so, in the shower, hands trailing, you could truly relax and find your release.

Afterwards, the water trialing over your hypersensitive skin, you level with yourself. There’s definitely no hiding it, there’s obviously something brewing, something that you can’t necessarily control. You’ve never felt this way before, and it scared you, this unnameable feeling.

He’d been avoiding you at times you thought, but others he would occasionally graze your hand with his when passing you something for the Child. Or when your were preparing meals, he’d slip behind you to grab something, his hand resting on your waist. Every moment you picked up on, his touch holding you, slowing time and making you reel at each moment. You just hope that the feelings weren’t one sided. He’d given signs, right? That moment on Nevarro was real… right? He’s either been deliberately teasing you or he’s just completely and utterly oblivious…or he regrets what happened. You shut that thought away as soon as it rears its ugly head, you don’t want to go there…but as every day passes it makes its unwelcome presence more obvious.

You turn the shower off to stop your mind from wandering. This was dangerous.

You stepped out the shower, grabbing the towel he’d given you before. Tipping your head upside down, you shake it against your head, trying to briefly dry your hair before wrapping yourself in the towel. You looked around for your clothes. Dammit, you’d left them in your cabin. Making sure the towel was secure you opened the fresher door, hair still dripping as you stepped into the hull. The lights had been dimmed, he must’ve put the Kid to sleep, trying to catch as many hours as he could before you stopped at the first Quarry.

Turning around to close the door, you jump.

He’s just standing there; no armour, just his helmet and underclothes. Slowly you turn your head to look at him, trying to play it off that he didn’t scare the living daylights out of you. You stare back at him, forming a smile almost in an automatic self defence. You hoped he couldn’t hear what you were doing in the shower… you were sure you’d kept quiet, taking special care not to make any noise. You’d even bitten your wrist to muffle any moans that may have slipped out.

He was casually leaning up against the ladder, one hand still holding on. It's like he was frozen in time, like you were looking in from another dimension. The moment was odd, the air thick. You weren’t trying to make it weird but somehow with every breath you took, your throat tightened, heart quickened and the space in the hull shifted. You decided to break the stifling silence.

“Din,” you say politely, still holding his glare.

Silence.

Okay this is a bit worrying now…”Hey, Di—,”

“Yeah, sorry, I ugh… I…” He drifts from his sentence, the hull instantly shifting back into the awkward silence of before.

“Do you need something?” You ask. Maybe he needed something from the fresher and you were in the way? His unease wasn’t something you’d really seen before. Something was bothering him. He’s never been strong with words but he always made sure that when he did speak he wouldn’t stutter or show any signs of heat. Trying not to assume the obvious you reasoned that he just needs to use the fresher and you’re being the awkward one, Yes, he’s just being polite. You shift out of the way, back turning to his as you walk towards your cabin.

“Stop,” His voice stern, low. It freezes you in your tracks. Okay. “Come here,” He didn’t have to tell you twice. Slowly you walked over towards him, eyes not leaving the floor. You’re now stood in front of him. The warmth of the night-lights in the ship blessed your shoulders in a golden glow, accentuating your features beautifully. The towel was tightly wrapped around your chest, held in place by the corner being tucked under your arm. However, your collarbone and neck were out in the open, poetically emphasised by your hair. You hadn’t completely dried your hair before leaving, so it didn’t take long for small droplets to drop to your skin; graciously falling, skating over your now prickled flesh; it was like the tension in the air had electrified you - all of your senses were on high alert but the only thing you could focus on was the rhythmic rise and fall of the Mandalorian's chest. It was trance-like. You daren’t look up, the stare would be too much. “Drop it,” What?

“Din, I don-” you chime sweetly, but you’re cut short.

“The towel, drop it,” Your breath hitched, your body tensed. Is he really asking you to do this or are you in some weird dream? His command sent an instant pulse to your sensitive core. Your skin was now a blushed red, you couldn’t even hide it anymore. Your feet were fidgeting, fingers pulling at the rough fabric that grazed your thighs. Was this really happening? “Don’t make me ask again.”

And that was what did it for you. He really was on a mission. His cocky attitude emanated his influence on you. Even though he adorned a Beskar helm you could feel his eyes wander your body. You would do anything to see his face, be able to read what he was thinking, feeling. Your mind flicked back to Nevarro, his body pressed to yours, his hard arousal pressing into you. Your mind decided to torture you in this moment, conjuring explicit images of Din’s naked body. His hand stroking his thick length, moaning your name to his pleasure. Your face warmed to a hot blaze, mirroring the heat that had settled deep in your core. Only a few moments had passed and you were already ready for him, your body preparing for what you sought after most.

As you went to release the towel, a cry cuts through the tension like a knife. The Kid couldn’t have chosen a worse moment if he tried.

The agitated gruff was plain. He didn’t care if you knew his frustrations, the wall of secrecy he’d built was now kicked down and the Child’s cries had just stopped him from walking through. His fists clenched at his side, the sound of leather twisting pricked goosebumps along your skin and contrived a hitched breathe.

Keeping your head down, you mutter, “You should probably see if he’s ok…” The kid hadn’t completely drifted off, his cries were urgent. Maybe he just missed his Dad. Din doesn’t say anything, he just turns and walks back over to his cabin, the cries breaking through the metal door that separated it from the hull. His absence released you from his transfixion, finally allowing you to begin to absorb the last few moments. You needed to get away, you couldn’t breathe, the weight of what had happened was clamping down on your chest. You scrambled into your cabin, closing the door as quick as you could behind you. You leaned back against the door, the back of your head titling up towards the ceiling. What… just… happened?

The cries eventually die down and the ship is plunged back into silence. You’ve changed and now you are lying in bed, facing the wall.

“Drop it,” fogs your mind, blocking any other thoughts from touching the surface. His attitude over the last few days now made sense. The way he’d been avoiding you, not engaging in much conversation at all now made sense; he was waiting for a moment like that to make his move, to finally catch you alone, vulnerable.

At least now you know your feelings aren’t one sided.

____

The ship lands gracefully into an open pit of forestry. Walking out once he’d lowered the ramp you could tell you were in some sort of natural clearing. The front of the ship was facing towards an open field of thick, green grass. Surrounding the ship like a cauldron were tall, dense trees and moss. You guessed you’d landed just on the edge of a forest. It was cosy, quiet. It felt like you were the first to lay your eyes upon it and the natural beauty of it all was soothing to the soul.

Din had said that there was a bounty near here but and odds of them being a difficult one were low, they were just a bail jumper. He went on to explain that often when they’re on planets like this they were an easy pickup - they would very rarely fight back. This calmed you a little, knowing that you wouldn’t have to deal with an unnecessary level of violence, and that the both of you would come away unscathed. You were tired of fighting for the time being.

___

You knew you’d be leaving soon so you decided now would be a good time to suit up.

You’d just finished putting on your thigh holster as Din walked into the hull. You turned your head to smile at him, greeting him silently. Turning back to the weapons locker, you went to grab the arms holster.

“What are you doing?” He asks, striding over to you. Before yo can react he’s grabbing the arm holster from you and pressing it back into the locker, closing the locker doors by fiddling with his vembrace. This confuses you so you let your frustrations known.

“Im getting ready — what do you think you’re doing?” You curt back, he’s being quite rude, you’re not going to let him trample all over you.

“You’re staying here,” he replies, bending slightly, gesturing for you to take off the thigh holster. Why are you staying here? You’re completely qualified for this, he even said so himself back when you first met! He’d be damned if you’re just going to sit on this ship, locked away in exile because he’s in an angsty strop.

“No, I’m not, I’m coming with you,” you command. You’re not a pushover. He can use his domineering charm all he likes, you’re going with him. Maintaining your eye contact with him, you press the button that opens the weapons locker. You’re seething now. You reach in to grab the two knives he gifted you, your knives.

“Don’t test me,” he hisses. His hand shot out, encasing your whole wrist with his vice grip. It hurt, this is a contact he’s not used on you before. He’s been forceful, yes, but never maliciously, just in a way to express his concern or even in a playful manner. This however was new, frightening. He was scaring you. You didn’t realise you’d frozen until the slam of the locker doors shut and he’d turned to walk away. You were shaking now, but not like you would if you were cold, no, you were shaking with agitation, anger, hurt. You wanted to reply, to argue with him, but he’d truly rocked you. And in that moment you questioned yourself. You thought you knew this man, you thought you could trust him and that he would only ever protect you and have your interests at heart. He’d bent over backwards to rescue you, to look after you. But what he’d just done exposed a whole different side to him, your trust in him shattered. You’d felt comfortable that this man would never lay a hand on you, but now you’re not so sure.

___

He made sure to grab some firewood and set up a small camp just in-front of the ship. You knew he’d be gone for a bit as he’d made sure you both had dinner and breakfast sorted. Grabbing a couple empty crates from the hull you set them down near the fire. The kid’s cot was next to you as you warmed up his soup in the cooking pot.

Mando was inside the ship gathering whatever supplies he needed for the job. He’d grabbed a couple protein bars, a metal bottle full of water and then obviously his weapons. He didn’t bother with the long rifle this time, only sporting his blasters and a combat knife. He was confident this would go just as planned.

He hadn’t spoken to you since the shower incident, and you were kinda glad he hadn't. It was awkward. Once the shock of it all had worn away the situation dawned on you. How were you going to broach a conversation now? On Nevarro it was sweet. He was jokey and loose, but for some reason he’s now tense and closed off from you. You strip your mind in search of anything that you could’ve done to antagonise him, but there was nothing. His behaviour was completely out of the blue. And now, with his feelings splayed across the table, it was your turn to make the move. Maybe its best if I just act like it didn’t happen…he probably regrets it and wishes it never happened… You conclude your thoughts and decide to just keep hush. He doesn’t want to talk about it, so you won’t. Simple.

It was starting to get dark now, the fire pit illuminating the camp in a soft yellow glow as purples and blues faded into the dark of night. Mando had finished polishing his armour and went back into the ship to make sure he had everything he needed. Once back out he handed you a comlink. You look up at him.

“In case there’s any trouble” he says blankly. He didn’t sound worried, and you guessed it was because he knew that if anyone did try anything they’d be dead before the realised their mistake. You didn’t wear the belt he’d given you but the thigh holster remained with one of the combat knives he’d originally given you. You took it as a silent gift, it was sweet.

“I think we'll be just fine, won’t we” you both look down at the Kid, whose practically face first in his bowl of soup. He must’ve been hungry and the fresh warmth of the soup was a new favourite of his. Sensing your look, he turns his head up to the both of you.

“Eh” He agrees before swiftly returning to his supper. You place the com link in your back pocket, hoping that you won’t actually have to use it.

“I won’t be long, close the hatch before you go to bed.” And with that he’s striding off into the forest, not looking back.

_______

A few hours had passed and now you were sunk into complete darkness, the dying embers of the fire barely lighting the camp. The kids head had dipped a couple times as he dozed, and realising he was knackered you tucked him into his cot. Kicking out the embers you walked back into the ship, closing the ramp behind you. You’d brought the kid into your cabin this time. It just made more sense to have him with you instead of on the other side of the ship, it meant that if there were any problems you could deal with them straight away. You also just want the company as you lie in bed, listening to the wind roll of the chassis of the Razor Crest. The sound of the Kid sleeping was therapeutic, and before spud realised you’d drifted into a deep sleep.

_______

You heard a hiss, the intake of air dampened by the vocoder of his helmet. The hull was dark but the lights were bright enough to accentuate your features, the soft yellowy-red draping a sultry curtain over your features. Your nipples perked at the cold, the skin around them prickling into goosebumps. The lines of your stomach were long but defined. The years of training had built a strong frame, but the feminine features still remained. The sleek lines leading from your upper chest right down to your lower abdomen, cinching at your waist. Scars rippled your skin, some hidden by the light. Others, more pertinent injuries sitting like shards of glass, reflecting off your now tender body. At least the lights were helping to hide the hot flush of anxiety that had swept you, little twitches of anticipation making random muscles jump.

You jump awake, wet from sweat. You open your eyes only to be met with blinding darkness. You couldn’t see in front of you even if you tried. You could still hear the kid fast asleep, so you relaxed, lying back down onto your bed, now trying to control your breathing. The dream felt real, like you were actually there. You didn’t want to leave it, the feeling was electrifying. Time had slowed and you were stuck in that moment. You didn’t mind though, being stuck in a moment with the Mandalorian wasn’t too bad. At least your body thought so, now that it had made it’s arousal very, very clear.

Your legs were damp but with a different feeling. You felt flirty, like you’d just been caught doing something forbidden, but deep down you didn’t mind, in fact, you were incredibly turned on right now. You glanced over at the Kid, your vision now adjusted to the darkness. You get up and lightly push his cot away until he’s near the corner, now facing away from you. This was wrong. But you couldn’t help it, the pent up arousal you were drenched in was suffocating. Sliding back into bed you let your hand drift, and your mind experiment.

Your right hand slowly slid down your midline, you were trying to picture them as his; heavier, rougher. Your other hand moved to grab your left breast, lightly massaging it and then playfully pinching your nipple. You shuddered and let out a small moan. Mando wasn’t here, and the kid was knocked out… you could have a little fun.

You were surprised at how wet you were, the dream had obviously been playing with your body for some time, because as you lightly pressed against your clit the sensation made your hips buck. Okay, you were really, really turned on. You liked Mando, but your body now confirms just how much you like him, and you can’t even deny it. You give into your temptations and slowly begin circling your fingers over your core. Small moans escaped your lips as you imagines your hands were his, that his body was looming over yours, whispering in your ear. ‘You’re fucking soaking. Is this how wet you get when your moan my name at night? Hmm?’ Another moan leaves your throat, this one strained now as you’re edging closer to your release.

“Having fun?” A digital voice booms from your back pocket.

You can’t believe it, you really. Cannot. Believe it.

“Ugh… hi, Mando… I’m sorry… It’s not what you think it is” You blurt out into the com link you’d grabbed from your pocket. You’re cursing yourself inside. How can you be so stupid! And your reply, it wasn’t even believable. So so stupid.

“Is it not…? Shame” the cockiness roasted your skin. He knew. Shit. How were you going to drag yourself out of this. He’s teasing you now. How can he still wind you up when he’s literally tens of kilometres away?! “Don’t stop. I was enjoying listening to you” he cuts again. He wants me to carry on? Am I still dreaming?

“I ugh… you what?” You stutter, trying to make sure you heard him correctly.

“You heard me, don’t stop.” He’s dead serious. And just like that his voice has grabbed you by the throat and is forcing you to do as he commands. You lie back, trying to calm your breathing as you set the com link next to your head, leaving your hands free. You close your eyes again, letting your hands drift back to where they were before. Instantly you let out a moan at the pressure against your clit. The bundle of nerves was now throbbing, his words were practically nudging them for you. A tight breathe leaves the com link, and the faint sounds of a zipper slip through.

“Are you-” you go to ask but you’re cut off.

“You’re lucky I’m not there right now because I’d… I’d be making sure you knew how disappointed I am in you. You waited for me to…fuck…you waited for me to leave before you made yourself cum.” That hit something deep within your core and only made the pressure at your core twist tighter. He was definitely getting off to this as well. The thought of it sent you mad, you’re now reaching for the tipping point of your release, your fingers pressing harder now.

“I had a dream…” you can’t hold back the strained moan “ A dream that you’d undressed me, that you were going to-” you can’t even finish the sentence, you’re so incredibly wound and tense all rationality had left you.

“fuck, you… I…” he’s just as wound up as you. Are you making this fierce Mandalorian choke? The power that fills your veins makes you grin from ear to ear. Knowing you have this effect on him floods your inner thighs. “You’re gonna cum for me when I—when I tell you too, okay?” You can hear his quickened breath, he was close too. The dominance he was displaying even from miles away had you reeling, and you were a little impatient, wanting him to give you your release.

“Yes… please, please” you say through ushered moans, you weren’t sure how much longer you could take this.

“Yes what?” He growls and it send every one of your hairs on end.

“Yes, Sir…please” You’re practically begging him now, you want to cum so bad. The arousal has made every single muscle tense, you’re wound like a dam waiting to burst.

“Good girl…” He pauses. You’re now pretty much mentally crying. Oh you need this release and you need it now. His teasing is going to send you awol.

“Cum” The words couldn’t be sweeter and you press down in just the right spot. Your body reels and your mind spirals, the shattering gasps and moans are now lining the air with filth. That felt good, oh so good. You can hear the distance slur of swearing and heavy grunts from the vocoder, blurred between the dark of the cabin and the thick of your lust. After what seemed like a lifetime your senses returned to normal and you could breath comfortably now. Your body slack, pulsing still as the pleasure courses your veins. If he can make you feel this good without even being here, how would it feel when he's with you..?

“How are you feeling?” Whispering into the com-link, your eyes still closed.

“Amazing, Meshl’a” He sighs through the com-link, his satisfaction like music to your ears. “I don’t need to ask you how you’re feeling” This time you can hear a chuckle, and it makes you giggle too. “Get some sleep, I’ll be back before you wake up” He says, and then the red light on the com link dims, and you drop back into a deep sleep.

_____

The sound of physical struggle wake you from your sleep and you instantly jump into action. Grabbing your discarded clothes, you practically fall around your room in an effort to get yourself dressed so you can sort out whatever is going on in the hull of this ship.

“I thought Mandalorian’s were meant to be tough! What the fuck do you call thi—,” the voice cuts off when you exit your room in only your combat trousers and a loose tunic, “well, Mando, I didn’t know you were such a collector of fine art,” the bounty grits. It was a Twi’lek, similar to that of the one from the prison freighter, except this guy was green, and certainly a lot bigger. His face twisted into a sadistic grin as he turned to face you, clearly eyeing you up as if you were his.

“Don’t even try it,” Mando warns, stepping aggressively towards the bounty. But before he has time to cuff him, you’re doing his job for him. You run at him, jumping and grabbing him at the top of his shoulders, using the momentum to carry and pivot you as you wrap the inside of your thighs around his neck. You squeeze hard, but follow through on the rotation, completing a complete 360 swivel around his neck before twisting forward, clamping his neck especially hard with your thighs as you bring him down. Before he falls, you release your thighs from his neck and wrap his neck in the crook of your right arm, using your bodyweight and the velocity of his fall to bring him tumbling, quite ungraciously onto the hard durasteel of the hull. He lets out a pained gasp as the air leaves his lungs, and you quickly take advantage of his struggle by grabbing the cuffs from Din’s hands and securing them over the bounty’s.

You take a second to breathe before patting the bounty on the shoulder, “I could’ve snapped your neck if I wanted to, but I have a feeling you’d be worth less dead,” you say, before standing up and leaving the rest up to Din. The Mandalorian just stares at you as you walk to the fresher, closing the door behind you to start your morning routine.

“You gonna let her stand you up like tha—,” the bounty wheezes, but Din cuts his sentence short.

“Shut it, or I might finish what she started, Get up.” And with that Din grabs the Bounty by the shoulder and hauls him into the carbonite freezer.

_____

Nothing is said between the two of you until the early afternoon. The events from last night hung heavy in the air, and neither of you were brave enough to bring it up. You’d found it quite frustrating that he’d not mentioned anything, considering he was so eager to make you…well… but then again you were also quite thankful for the silence because if he started a conversation, you weren’t quite sure what you’d say, what you should say. It was incredible, yes… the way he had complete and utter control over your body even though he was 10’s of miles away made it all that more exhilarating, but this mornings encounter only solidified your worst fears. You were both dangerous people to be around — Din was a Bounty hunter, a fucking Mandalorian, one of the most feared and ruthless in the Galaxy. His job was nothing but violence and aggression. What made you think he had time for someone like you? You’d been through hell together, that’s for sure…but that doesn’t mean you owe each other anything.

You wanted to stay with him, to work with him and be his partner, but something about the way he’s acted just makes you second guess whether he feels the same way. If he’s expecting you to just sit tight and be bed bound to the Razor Crest, he’s got another thing coming. This morning certainly proved you can handle yourself, so why is he hesitating now? Maybe if you could work on a bounty together, you could prove you’d work best as a team, and he’d let you stay around and actually make use of your skills — after all you’re pretty sure you could beat him in one on one combat if you really tried. So, you decided to break the ice and broach the subject.

“Where’s the next bounty?” You ask, swirling your cup of caf and staring into the little whirlpool forming. Din pauses, gripping the polishing cloth he was using on his Amban rifle. You hear the telltale sign of frustration as he lets out a sigh.

“Why do you want to know?” He counters, resuming the polishing after he’s finished talking.

“Just curious…” you mutter, taking a quick sip of your drink in an effort to look casual.

“Curious…yeah,” He mumbles, rubbing a little harder on a particularly scratched spot on the barrel of the blaster, “You’re not coming with me,” he finishes.

“Why not?” You’re not dancing around the bush now, you just want him to cut the crap and be honest with you.

“Its dangerous. You’ll get hurt,” he says, not bothering to look up and face you. This man really did know how to wind you up sometimes.

“Yeah… cause by the looks of things you definitely weren’t in danger this morning,” you rasp, taking another swig from your caf in order to quell your frustration.

“You didn’t give me the chance to cuff him,” he snarls, pausing once again from polishing to take a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down.

“He was going to lunge at me, and anyway, you were taking too long, it was pissing me off,” you chuckled back, even though you weren’t finding it funny at all — you knew this was winding him up and the fact that he just couldn’t bring himself to accept you helped was rubbing you up the wrong way. You were a trained assassin for fucks sake, why isn’t he using your expertise, your experience to his advantage? But, like always, Din remains quite, hiding behind the security of his helmet. Of course he’d just shut you out — that’s what he did to anyone, why would he do anything else with you? “Pathetic,” you mutter, and before he can even think of a reply you’ve put your empty caf cup on the floor and you’re striding your way back into your room, locking the door as soon as you’re inside.

You instantly strip yourself off your clothes and slide on the stupidly large tunic Din had given you and you practically throw yourself into bed, rolling over to face the wall. You clutched the comforter tightly to your body as you buried your head into the pillow, willing yourself just to fall asleep and forget everything that had happened in the last 24hours.

Tomorrow would be a better day. Tomorrow you could just forget everything that’s happened. Tomorrow, you would find a way off of this ship. If Din didn’t want you, then you wouldn’t stay. It was decided.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #star wars #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian fanfic #din needs a hug #angry din #mando x reader #mando x you #baby yoda #mando.exe has stopped working #mando smut #smut

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selenium-drive · 4 years

Text

Stay Gold Chapter 7: The Revelation

TW: Kidnapping, murder, slavery, abuse

Words: 8.5k

Series rating: Explicit

It was nearly dawn when the worn out Mandalorian reached the Crest with his sleeping companion still situated on his back. The dull ache in his side from his previous encounter with the quarry he collected, had transcended into a throbbing, burning sensation with every small movement he made. His legs were on the verge of starting to tremble with each step he made on board the Crest from constant use and overwhelming fatigue. His hands had long gone numb from holding up the dead weight, passed out pilot he carried back home with him during the overnight search and rescue mission. Seeing the glow of his gunship under the moonlight of the open hangar ceiling gave Mando the final bit of strength he needed to get on board the ship and pilot them back to Mos Espa to deliver the bounty. Opening the hatch to the ship proved to be difficult without an extra free hand. The bounty hunter stumbled to a pile of stacked supply crates tucked away to the side off the hangar, and did his best to gently set Aurelia down on them while he lowered the ramp. She groaned in protest at the frigid desert air that hit her when she broke contact from the comforting warmth of the Mandalorian. Her eyes began to flutter open as she woke, taking in the sight of the vessel that they were about to board.

"Sleep well?" Mando asked. His own tired voice filtered oddly through the helmet's modulator, the weariness he felt making him sound intoxicated by intense exhaustion.

"Mmmm..yes, thank you," Aurelia answered groggily. She rubbed her eyes, suddenly flinching at the influx of pain that radiated throughout the side of her head. The pilot brushed her fingertips against the bruised, sensitive skin where the stock of Darro's rifle had previously struck her. She winced when her pain receptors strongly protested at the light contact her hand made with her temple.

"Perhaps I need to take a look at that," Mando said.

Aurelia shook her head a minuscule amount in protest. "I'm fine. Burg's hit from Ran's mission was far worse than this."

Mando ignored her attempt at downplaying her discomfort. Once the ramp had lowered itself to ground level, he placed one hand on the small of her back and scooped his other arm underneath her legs. He hoisted her up bridal style while pushing his own tribulation in the back of his mind. Aurelia glanced down at Mando's side, noticing the two big eyes and ears that poked out from the bag he wore around his torso. Her amber honey stare warmed the heart of the small infant, and she smiled to herself when The Child cooed excitedly at her.

"He was worried about you," Mando's raspy voice spoke just above her ear. "Don't ever do that again, leave like that, I mean. I know rescuing that girl was important to you. I don't understand why, and you might not tell me, but please, don't do that again."

A sensation guilt nestled in her stomach, hard and heavy as a rock. She felt horrible for leaving The Child behind unprotected and vanishing without giving any kind of warning to the Mandalorian. No apology in the world could make up for the fact that she broke Mando's biggest rule of maintaining the safety of the kid. The fact that its father was being so merciless towards her, made Aurelia feel even worse.

"Mos Espa is not the nicest place to live, Mando," she started meekly. "Theres too much going on behind closed doors. There's too much...indentured servitude."

Mando's pace up the ship's ramp slowed. "You mean slavery?" He asked quietly.

Aurelia stiffened in his arms. "I hate that word. It's so dehumanizing. But yes, and I couldn't stand to see another person go through that unless I could help it."

They stepped onto the Crest, the Mandalorian setting Aurelia down slowly on the cot that they took turns sharing when they were able to partake in the luxury of being able to sleep. Off to the side, the ramp rose to its closed resting position, sealing off the light purple, orange, yellow, and pink hues of the incoming dawn sky. Mando reached into the brown cloth bag on his side to take out The Child and placed him next to Aurelia. She quietly watched the hunter's slow movements in the faint glow of the ship's dull cabin light until he started towards the ladder. Her hand shot out in the near darkness, catching hold of one of his bracers.

"Rest, Aurelia," Mando tried to order her sternly. The lethargy quite apparent in his tone made his demand for her lack any real sense of authority behind it. "You've been through quite a bit."

"When was the last time you slept?" she fought back.

"I will once the quarry is delivered. I won't be long, just please, stay here until I get back."

His plea made the guilty feeling in the pit of her stomach more prominent.

_________

Just over an hour had passed until Aurelia could hear movement stirring near the entrance of the ship. The soft, muffled sound of voices and footsteps coming from the hull of the Crest was barely audible, even in pure silence. She slid the doors to the hull of the ship back slowly. She poked her head out from the darkness of the hidden sleeping compartment, her golden eyes illuminating in the soft orange hues of the dim light of the entrance of the Crest. Her breath caught in her throat before she was able to welcome who she thought was the Mandalorian, back onto the ship. The sight of an unknown, armed figure making his way towards the ladder filled her with such an intense, sudden rush of panic that she could almost feel her windpipe physically closing itself off and stopping her breathing. Her body immediately transcended into fight or flight mode, rather this time, it was all flight. Enough air recollected in her lungs to allow her to release the beginnings of terrified scream, but she was quickly silenced when a leather gloved hand clamped itself tight around the thick layers of her scarf.

"It's okay!" Mando grabbed onto the terrified woman, managing to encase both her wrists tightly behind her back with just one of his much larger hands once she tried to fight back against his hold on her. "It's me! It's me, I'm here! Aurelia, I'm here."

Mando looked up from his panicked crew member to the man that was accompanying him back to the ship to collect the bounty. The collector's blaster rifle was raised in their direction, his eyes widened in shock from clearly not expecting to be welcomed by a frantic woman once he boarded the Mandalorian's vessel.

"Hey, hey," Mando continued in a failed consolation attempt, "it's okay. It's me."

He waved the bounty collector onward to continue his duty of bringing the quarry's carbonite block down to the lower level and unload it off the Crest.

Aurelia brought her knees up to her chest. She cradled them tight against her body I'm a defensive posture, both Mando and The Child watching her ride out her intense outburst. The bounty hunter's arm that was cradled around the curve of her back had stiffened when he heard a faint sob escape through the black cotton strands covering the lower half of her face.

"I-I'm sorry, Mando," she choked out.

Mando wasn't sure what to do in this moment. Consolation wasn't in his nature at all. The kid, although stubborn and mischievous, never cried too often or needed to be coddled. Even then, if The Child were to become upset over something, it was typically an easy fix. Mando didn't know what the cause of Aurelia's tears were.

"I thought they were coming for me," she whispered hoarsely. "Oh god...I thought they were coming for me."

"You're safe here, no one is after you. The kid and I wouldn't let that happen," Mando did his best to reassure her.

What sounded like someone's throat being cleared, emitted from the top of the ladder. Mando glanced up to see the bounty collector hoisting down the quarry's carbonite block from the upper level of the Razor Crest. The collector slid down the ladder and pushed the block down the ramp and off the ship. He made his way back up the ramp and placed a small coin bag in Mando's hand as payment for the bounty. Mando sighed heavily and sealed off the ship from the surrounding environment.

"I'm not sure where to go to next, but anything's better than here. Maybe we need to lay low for a while."

"What did you have in mind?" Aurelia asked.

"I'm not sure. I suppose we could see what's nearby."

Mando headed up into the cockpit with both Aurelia and The Child following close behind. He sat himself down in his seat, a blinking indicator light on his hologram pad catching the corner of his eye through his tinted visor before he could pull up the ship's navigation settings.

"Is...is that a message for you?" Aurelia asked uneasily.

Mando looked back at her with his own discomfort safely hidden from sight under his heavy beskar helmet. He reached across the Crest's console to activate the hologram. A man he had thought to have died by his hand long ago, manifested in the hologram's bright blue light display. Mando balled his fists at his side.

"Karga," he growled.

Both he and Aurelia watched tensely as the message automatically started playing, filling the unnervingly silent cockpit with Karga's deep voice coming through the hologram speakers.

"My friend, if you are receiving this transmission that means you are alive. You might be surprised to hear this but I am alive too. I guess we can call it even. A lot has happened since we last saw each other...."

_________

"So we're just supposed to return to Nevarro like everything's fine?" Aurelia shrieked. "Mando, it's a trap! The men who hired you...they just want the kid!"

"I'm well aware of that," the bounty hunter said in a dangerously low tone. "I don't have any other choice."

Aurelia opened her mouth to protest again but Mando gripped her shoulders tight and set her down in one of the cockpit seats.

"Listen to me. We go to Nevarro. We kill the Imp that put a bounty out on the kid in the first place. Karga gets control of his city again, my name no longer has a bounty attached to it. Got it?"

"You make it sound so overly simple. You're okay with using the kid as bait? Mando, Karga said the number of enemy troops stationed in his city has multiplied at this point." Absentmindedly, she tightened her hold on The Child.

Mando sighed heavily and turned his back to them. He began punching in coordinates to a distant planet, one that wasn't Nevarro.

"Of course I'm not okay with it. I hate that I'm even considering the idea, but it's not like we have much of a choice. We need more than just the two of us though to have a shot at pulling this off. I need to pay a visit to someone and call in a favor."

The Crest launched into hyperspace. Streaks of white and multiple shades of blue coated the cockpit's windows with brilliant flashes of light bouncing off the Mandalorian's polished armor. Mando swiveled around in his chair to come face to face with Aurelia. Her eyebrows were furrowed in frustration and concern over the lucrative idea of returning to the same planet where Mando had caused such a ruckus over the foundling.

"We're going to Sorgan," he began. "There's an ex-dropper who's living there who I believe can be a vital asset to this mission. She's a strong warrior. Trust in her as you do me, and we'll get through this just fine."

Aurelia remained silent, her grip still tight on The Child in a protective manner.

"I need to make sure your head is in the right place for this," Mando said gingerly. "You haven't seemed like yourself since we left Mos Espa. You're on edge, and I know it has to do with that man back on Tattooine."

The Child glanced up at her, his head tilting from side to side as he gauged her expression with curiosity of his own etched into his wrinkled little features. Aurelia smiled gently and rubbed the tips of one of his oversized ears between the tips of her fingers. She avoided eye contact with Mando, who was undoubtedly give her his full, undivided attention.

"Mando, it doesn't matter anymore. He's dead."

"Then why do you still hide your face?"

"Why do you?!" She shouted angrily. The infant in her arms hiccuped out of fear from her sudden outburst, his thin lips forming into deep frown. Even Mando couldn't help but recoil away from the sudden, uncharacteristic spurt of anger sent his way.

"It's my creed, and the way of my people," Mando said defensively.

Aurelia comfortingly patted The Child in an apologetic manner. "You have your reasons, and I have mine."

Mando was bothered by her response but did his best to hide his annoyance. He didn't know why he was so irritated with her secrecy. The annoyance he felt at her came full circle and reflected on him. He was aggravated at his curiosity, aggravated that it made him look like the biggest hypocrite in all the galaxy. He didn't show his face and he wanted people to respect that. Mando despised when others tried to remove his helmet. It bothered him when people would play guessing games as to what he looked like under all the layers of clothing and beskar armor. So why, why couldn't he accept the fact that he was put in their position for once? He never had these thoughts when he was around the other Mandalorian back on Nevarro, but perhaps that was because they were all on the same page and shared the same reason for remaining hidden from the world. They had that mutual respect for why they followed the rules that they did. Aurelia was an exception. He needed to respect her boundaries, Maker, he knew this with all his being. But still, it frustrated him all the times he would catch a glimpse of her from behind with her scarf obviously draped over her shoulders when she was feeding The Child each morning or kissed his forehead goodnight when she laid him down for bed.

"There is much history rooted in your culture, Mando," Aurelia began in a hushed tone. "If people knew what it meant to be a Mandalorian, perhaps they would be more understanding. The same goes for me, and why I am the way I am. I suppose...I could enlighten you. You did help me out of that stupid yet unforeseen scenario I put myself in. It's only fair you know just who exactly that person was."

Mando waited patiently for her to continue.

"Darro was...a bit of a troublemaker in Mos Espa. He butted heads with my father constantly, who along with his group of local soldiers, did his best to limit some of the trouble that would pop up around town. When he and the others passed, Darro was ecstatic. He himself had a few friends who would commit small, petty crimes and robberies now and then. Around the time my mother passed, the intensity of his crimes had escalated and become more malevolent."

Aurelia released her hold on The Child's ears and tucked her knees up to her chest. She stared down at the floor, seemingly ashamed at the rest of her explanation that was to come. She was doing her best to avoid looking at the Mandalorian and infant both watching her closely. Mando knew she was growing more and more uncomfortable the more information she shared about herself. His stoic, hardened beskar exterior created the image of an infallible, uncaring warrior in people's minds. Underneath, Mando's human curiosities were brewing and he hung on every word of her story, ashamedly desperate for more.

"One night, while I slept, he broke in and took me from my home. Mom was gone maybe not even a week at this point. It was as if he was waiting for her to go before making a move. I...lived with him for a few years. I...I don't even know how long it was, truly I don't. Every day dragged on and on and eventually I lost count. He brought home two more women throughout our time together. He didn't treat them as nice as he treated me. He said...I was his favorite."

Aurelia dug her fingertips into her legs and shrank down even more on the cot. Her body trembled in both anger and sadness at the recollection of her years spent, no, wasted, with such a vile man. A brief wave of hysteria and panic crashed over her and her brain felt it was on fire. She sat unmoving for a minute or two, trying desperately to collect her train of thought. She didn't even know she was holding her breath until she exhaled sharply before continuing, her voice sounding strained while she spoke, both her mind and mouth on autopilot at this point.

"The others and I made plans to escape. It wasn't the first time I had tried to myself, but I figured with the help of the others, maybe we all had a chance. We were pretty successful until he called the mastiffs on us. I knew he wouldn't let them kill me, so I stayed behind to distract them." Her gaze down at the floor was completely empty and blank, her mind deep in thought as she replayed the events of years prior through in her head, narrating them out loud for Mando. "Darro was mad. So, so mad. He called all of his friends over, told them he had something he wanted to show them. He told me he had to teach me a lesson, and they were going to watch."

Aurelia buried her head down in her knees. "He said I wasn't his favorite anymore after that. He said...he was going to take me to Arvala-7. There were some farms I could work on that needed help tending to. Not long after we landed, and while Darro was out looking for someone to sell me to, I ran."

She lifted her head up and smiled. A few tears were brimming in her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She laughed. "I killed them, his friends that is. Maker, I killed them good. I wish I had gotten him too that night, but he finally got what he deserved."

She let out another chuckle and shook her head, lost deep in her feelings of blood lust and revenge. Mando fidgeted nervously in his chair. His mind went back to what snide comment Mayfeld made weeks ago once he noticed what she was.

I'm surprised she hasn't taken you out in your sleep already. You must have her trained pretty well.

Mando didn't even notice she was staring deep into the black tint of his visor. "You must hate me now," she mused darkly. "You must think I'm some kind of homicidal, unstable-"

"No," Mando cut her off. "Don't ever go there. You did what you had to do."

She watched him uneasily. Kriff, what he wouldn't give to see the lower part of her face, to read her expression and get the slightest idea of what she was thinking for once. He wanted to reach out and pull down that blasted scarf, to throw it away and see what she was so scared of showing to others. He wanted...he wanted to look at her, to tell her it was okay, to let her know he wouldn't dare do what that man did, to touch her-

"I stumbled upon Kuiil's farm after wandering the desert for a few days," she interrupted his wandering mind. "He took me in, showed me how to fix a ship so I could get back to Tattooine. I wasn't going anywhere near Mos Espa for a while, so I settled in Mos Entha. It was...safer there. I learned how to defend myself should Darro ever come back. And now...here we are."

She reached over to lovingly pat The Child on the top of his head. He cooed in response and stretched his short arms out, signaling for her to hold him. Aurelia stretched her legs out and sat him in her lap, cradling the loving, innocent creature tight in her arms close to her chest. Mando watched the warmth flood back into her honey golden orbs. He was in awe at her strength and how she still had compassion in her heart, even if it took some digging to reach it. He couldn't stop his hand from reaching out and gently wrapping around her arm, stopping her in her tracks when she stood to announce she was going to go feed The Child. His heart sank to the level of his boots when he felt her muscles flinch beneath his gloved fingertips from his touch. He didn't even notice the involuntarily, pained hiss that slipped past his helmet when he extended his arm out.

"Y-you're hurt," she whispered.

Mando looked over his shoulder towards the small gash on his back. "It's nothing. It happened during my search for the quarry. Wait, don't bother yourself over it-"

His head hung low and a heavy sigh passed his lips when Aurelia dismissed his protest to push past him and grab one of their newly acquired bacta patches. She set the foundling back down on the co-pilot's chair, shushing him gently when he whined in protest over the false promise of being fed.

"Let me take care of your dad first, kid. You always act like you haven't eaten in a millennia." Her slender fingers pulled back Mando's cape and tossed it over his uninjured shoulder.

"You're making a bigger deal out of this than you need to," Mando grumbled. He grunted and silenced himself when a sturdy hand pushed his helmet down in protest.

"It's my job to make things more difficult for you," Aurelia sighed sarcastically.

"That's the exactly opposite reason of why I went looking for you to begin with."

"Then take me back."

Mando lifted his head back up and peered over his shoulder in attempt to get a look at his crew member. Something in her voice didn't fully sound like she was joking. It wasn't a serious request, more like a statement to gauge what his stance was on her staying. Her face was just out of his view but he could she her hands hovering over his back, unmoving while she waited for his response.

Mando looked forward and ducked his head back towards the ground. "I-I couldn't...The uhh...the kid wouldn't let me live it down."

Aurelia felt a steady warmth blossom in her cheeks. Not trusting her words, she merely hummed in response and continued her evaluation of Mando's injury. "I...can't get a good look underneath all this," she said tapping on his armor. "I need to raise your flight suit up. I don't know if...you're okay...with that."

Mando kept his head down low, his palms growing a little sweatier underneath the leather of his gloves out of nervousness.

"It's okay," Aurelia began stepping backwards, "I can figure something else ou-"

"Close your eyes," Mando demanded. When no answer came from the girl behind him, he looked over in her direction. She stood there with the bacta patch in hand, her unblinking stare meeting his with uncertainty. "Close them, and don't look," he repeated a little more forcefully.

Aurelia scooped The Child up and turned around so neither were facing the Mandalorian. She closed her eyes and placed a hand over the infant's as well for good measure.

Mando set his helmet down between his feet with a heavy thump. The audible sound of more beskar armor hitting the floor met Aurelia's ears when his steel pauldrons and chest plate followed. There was a rustling of fabric and worn leather of the pilot's seat creaked beneath his weight. Aurelia anxiously held her breath the entire time until all the movement behind her had stopped. Mando scooped up his helmet and placed it back over his head.

"You can turn around," his strong voice wavered slightly through the vocoder.

Aurelia wasn't expecting the sight of beautiful bronzed skin that befell her eyes when she turned back around. Her knees almost buckled and she nearly dropped The Child from shock at the sight. Her eyes raked over the occasional scarring that left little streaks and pathways over his tanned skin. His muscles twitched uneasily under the intensity her stare.

"Something wrong?" Mando asked. He tried but brush away the bit of insecurity that had began to flood his mind.

"Not at all. In fact, this honestly doesn't look bad...at all," Aurelia marveled. She grabbed the patch and removed it from its plastic wrapping. His back straightened when he felt the cool adhesive draped across the wound and he sighed once the stinging sensation had begin to dissipate. Mando's breath caught in his throat and his fingers gripped around his knees when he felt the tips of her fingers gently smooth out the patch and adhere it to his skin. He cursed the Maker when a noticeable gasp befell both their ears when her skin made contact with his. "Did I hurt you?"

He wanted to tell her she could never. Stars, what was this feeling that was brewing deep in his chest? Was this the bacta? Yeah, yeah it had to be. Maybe there was something extra potent about it. Maybe that's why it was a bit pricier than normal. Yeah, that's it. It was just a medicinal high. One that made his heart race faster than normal, his knees weak, his hands sweat, and his breathing heavier.

"No," was all he could manage to tell her. He scrambled to reach down to pick up his clothes and armor at his feet. When he stood up and faced her, she did her best not to allow her eyes to wander over the rest of him.

"Thank you. Take care of the kid and get some sleep before we reach Sorgan."

Mando didn't give her any chance to reply before he dropped down the ladder and sealed himself away in the refresher.

_________

Aurelia couldn't help but gasp when she took in the vast expanse of trees, marshes, and overall vibrant green vegetation that littered the surface of the lush planet. Any time she paid a visit to a non-desert biome planet, her heart would skip a beat and she grew easily distracted by every creature, plant, or body of water she came into contact with.

Mando glanced down at the younger woman who was paralyzed in awe at the top of the ship's ramp. "Pretty, isn't it?"

"Maker, it's beautiful here," Aurelia commented.

"The kid and I lived here for several weeks right after we initially left Nevarro," Mando ushered her gently down the ramp to head in the direction of the village he knew his friend would be residing in. "It was nice living amongst the locals. They welcomed us with open arms. The Child made lots of friends. Everything seemed... normal for once."

Aurelia noticed the hint of sadness and longing in Mando's voice. "Why did you leave?" She asked hesitantly.

"The Guild found us eventually. We were putting everyone at risk by staying here. They won't rest until I'm dead and they have the kid. All the more reason why we need to finish this," Mando answered.

They continued walking down a faint dirt path that was formed in the grassy forest floor. It wasn't long before the thickening of trees began to clear, and village huts began to become more pronounced in the breaks between each massive tree trunk. Eventually the cluster of trees had dispersed entirely, paving way to a hidden marshland with huts scattered about along with patches of tilled land and sprouting crops. It was a relatively quiet, peaceful looking town. A few groups of children ran in between some of the tall strands of grass nearby, giggling and running around in an innocent game of tag. A few of their parents looked on happily, alternating between watching the children at play and busying themselves with plucking baskets of krill from the standing water or tending to the growing vegetables. It had been a while since Aurelia had seen such a tranquil town, if she had ever seen one at all.

"I bet you two loved it here. It's a shame you had to leave," she sadly told the Mandalorian.

He didn't answer her but instead directed her to a larger building off to the side of the others. The closer they got to the entrance, the louder sounds of cheering and applause had gotten. Mando gently pushed Aurelia to an open table in the corner of a large common house dining area. They took their seats with The Child sitting on Aurelia's lap and watched the entertaining spectacle unfolding in the center of the room. A broad, muscular Zabrak man was engaging in a tethered boxing match with an equally strong, if not stronger, looking woman. The crowd whistled and cheered as the two contenders tussled, the man finally becoming entangled in the tether and succumbing to the female warrior. He tapped out and the laser tether dissolved between the pair, a few moans and groans along with loud cheers from gambling victors filling the air. The woman partaking in the fight caught a glimpse of the beskar wearing bounty hunter humorously watching her from a far. He motioned towards an empty seat situated across from him at the table. She willingly joined the group at their table, a large, pearly white smile stretching across her strong features when she caught sight of her companion.

"Looking for some work?" He mused at the sight of the handful of her victory spoils being set down on the table top next to her. She laughed and slipped the growing pile of credits into her coin bag. A waitress came by and poured three glasses of spotchka; both women at the table took their glasses in hand with the unintroduced friend of Mando's watching Aurelia curiously when she turned her head to the side to drink from her glass discretely.

"That depends on what you're offering." The woman nodded towards the smaller female seated across from her. "You haven't introduced me to your new friend here either, Mando."

The hunter fidgeted nervously for a brief moment. He had no idea how Aurelia wanted to be addressed.

"This is my pilot. She's been watching over the kid and taking care of the ship when I'm not able to. She's saved my neck a couple of times out there too," Mando answered casually. Aurelia tried her best not to shrink down and stare at the floor from the unwanted attention.

"Does she have a name? She looks like she's hiding a few secrets just like you," the woman smiled and raised her eyebrow jokingly from behind another sip of spotchka.

"Tajana," Aurelia spoke up. She caught Mando's subtle glance in her direction when he picked up on the use of her fake name. She ignored him and extended her hand out for a proper introduction.

"Cara Dune," the other woman smiled once more. "Nice to meet you. I'm glad Mando has someone looking out for him and the kid, for once."

The subtle sound of a throat being cleared underneath a certain beskar helmet brought their attention back to the task at hand.

"The job..." Mando said flatly.

"Well get on with it," Cara pushed.

"We're heading back to Nevarro," he explained. "There's a man there who runs Guild operations, Greef Karga. He's the one who introduced me to the warlord who hired me to find the kid. Karga needs the man who hired me, out of there. He's stirring up too much trouble with all his toops stationed throughout the city. Getting rid of him means the kid and I are off the wanted list, and Karga gets his control over the city back. It seems like a straightforward operation. They're providing the plan and firepower, I'm the snare."

Cara's expression hardened, her eyebrows furrowing. "...but?

"I need more back up. A- Tajana and I can't do this ourselves. I need her to fight with me, if it comes to it, and I need you as well. You're a soldier, a veteran. We could use you. The reward for you time would be a generous one. You could come back here, retire, and live worry free."

Cara smiled and shook her head. She swirled the bright blue spotchka around in her glass, eyeing its contents thoughtfully before downing the remaining drops. "I'm already free of worry. And I'm not in the mood to play soldier anymore. Especially fighting some local warlord."

Mando leaned in closer to her from across the table. "He's not a local warlord. He's Imperial."

Aurelia shifted in her seat, her grasp on her glass tightening out of a sudden surge of anger. The Empire had taken so much from her and affected the lives of so many others. Sure it ceased to exist anymore, but if she was able to snuff out the remaining, slow-burning flames that tried to reignite in its name, she would gladly do so. This was her way of following in her father's footsteps. He wasn't around to see the fighter she turned into, but for her own consolation, she would take down what remained of the Empire in his name.

Cara seemed to take an interest in the way the tables had turned in her own personal favor. The look of sudden interest that rooted itself in her expression, told Aurelia she had much revenge to dish out herself against the Empire herself. Mando knew what he was doing and what cards to play so both he and Cara could get what they wanted.

The shock trooper veteran placed a few of her winning credits on the table as a payment and tip for their beverages. She reached across the table to finish off the beverage that Mando left untouched. Raising the empty glass in the bounty hunter's direction, she smiled wide and winked at the Mandalorian.

"I'm in."

_________

"Set a course for Nevarro, will you? Then come back down when you're finished so we can go over everything that needs to be done." Mando quietly asked Aurelia when the three, plus The Child, boarded the Razor Crest. She wordlessly nodded in response and hiked up the ladder with the foundling clutching tightly to her in one hand. Mando watched her disappear from sight and shut the cockpit door behind her before he turned to open the weapons cabinet. He motioned for Cara to choose a firearm to bring along with them, save for Aurelia's personal blaster rifle hanging off to side.

"You wanna tell me what's going on here?" Cara chuckled.

"What are you talking about?" Mando asked.

"Did you pick up another lost soul along the way?"

"You mean Tajana?"

Cara smirked and toyed with the firearm in her hand before placing it back on the rack and choosing a new one. "That's not her real name, is it?"

She took Mando's silence as a definitive yes. "So what's the story with her? Or is it not my business to ask?"

"She's just someone I hired to help out around here. An Ugnaught I met during my search for the kid specifically recommended her services."

"Her services?" Cara mused.

"Kriff, not like that," Mando swore harshly. "She does a good job taking care of the kid and the ship."

Cara hummed in response. Her subtle smirk and quick raise of her eyebrows gave away the fact that she didn't really believe the Mandalorian, but she wouldn't tell him about how she noticed the way he stole extra, unnecessary glances at his crew member now and then when she wasn't paying attention. She continued sorting through the weapons vault, Mando watching her settle on a blaster and pocket a grenade or two. A few footsteps overhead and down the metal rungs of the ladder brought his attention to the petite woman joining them in the cramped space.

"Is he alright up there alone?" Cara asked cautiously.

Aurelia shrugged. "I gave him something to snack on while we finish up down here but he won't stay entertained for long." She turned to climb back to the ladder but Mando placed his hand on her shoulder to get her to stay in place.

"Just stay, he'll be fine."

Cara pursed her lips together to fight off the small growing grin that threatened to break through when Mando's hand lingered a second too long on Aurelia's shoulder.

"You trust the contact?" She asked, trying to remain strictly business.

"Not particularly," Mando replied. "He and I had a run-in last time I was there on some Guild business. I thought I had disposed of him. Looks like I was wrong."

"Why are we going then?"

"I don't have a choice. You saw what happened on Sorgan. They'll keep sending hunters. The kid'll never be safe until the Imp is dead."

"What will happen once he's gone?" Aurelia asked.

Mando shrugged. "I dunno. Anything beats running from planet to planet all the time. Maybe then we could finally settle down some place, raise him properly. I know being on the run isn't what you signed up for, either."

"You wouldn't be needing me then if you were able to watch him, nor would you need to to pilot your ship if you find a planet to reside on. Maybe you could finally return to Sorgan. You said he was happy there. Both of you were." Aurelia told him.

Mando's head snapped in her direction. The thought of him not needing her never really crossed his mind. He couldn't read her body language or expression to see how she felt about the manner. Dank farrik, if he could just rip that scarf away...

"Are you okay with bringing him back there and doing this?" Cara asked softly. Mando wasn't sure what exactly she meant asking that question. Was she subtly asking if he was okay giving up the hellish lifestyle of being a wanted man, all for the sake of wanting to keep Aurelia's company? The delicate tone in her voice and empathy in her gaze made him think so. Or, was she asking if he was comfortable bringing The Child back to the people who wanted him brought back so Maker knows what would be done to him? For professionalism sake, Mando dissuaded her possible more personal intent she had for asking such a question. He settled on giving her a generalized answer that would settle whatever curiosities she had.

"No, not really. I don't feel good about this at all, especially in terms with how badly this could go. That's why I needed your help."

As soon as Cara nodded in response, the Crest took a sharp nose dive. The three soldiers clung to the walls to balance themselves while the Crest banked and bucked from side to side, up and down erratically.

Mando climbed up the ladder with the other two following closely behind once they gained their footing. Ripping back the cockpit door, they were greeted with the sight of the kid latched onto the ship's centre stick, jerking it in every which way. The Mandalorian hastily pried the giggling infant away from the control panel. Aurelia leveled the Crest's into a more steady, straightforward flight pattern.

"We're gonna need someone to watch that thing," Cara sighed. "You have someone you can trust?"

"Peli?" Aurelia turned to asked the bounty hunter.

Mando shook his head in response. "Tattooine's too far and out of the way at this point. I have someone else in mind, someone who wouldn't mind your company either."

He sat himself down in front of the navigation panel. Aurelia glanced over his broad, armored shoulders to try to catch a sneak peek to see just where he was directing the Crest to. She had a small inkling on just who he was referring to, and her suspicions were confirmed with a happy sweltering of her heart when she saw the Mandalorian typing in the coordinates for Arvala-7.

_________

The autopilot feature of the Crest landed them next to a decently sized house on a vast expanse of dry, desert land. The sun was beginning to set on the arid planet. Aurelia eagerly glanced out the window of the cockpit to peer down at the familiar patch of land the ship was descending down upon. The streaks of remaining sunlight cast down on a few blurrgs who had turned their attention to the incoming vessel, the unproportional creatures letting out strained barks and growls the closer the Crest got to making landfall. An Ugnaught hobbled out from out of the living quarters and waved up at the ship once he realized who it belonged to.

Aurelia couldn't help but push past Cara and Mando once the ramp to the Crest had been lowered. She stopped in front of the Ugnaught who had frozen in place when he caught sight of the raven haired woman.

"Kuiil," Aurelia choked out, fighting a few tears that had formed along her lash lines. Mando watched in surprise at the emotional vulnerability the typically closed off crew member of his was expressing. He knew Kuiil had taken her in and helped her out a great deal after she managed to escape from Darro but stars, he had a greater impact on her than he had imagined.

"It's been a very long time hasn't it?" Kuiil smiled.

A mixture of a laugh and stifled sob passed Aurelia's lips. She continued forward and dropped to her knees, reaching down to hug the kindhearted man who took her in years ago.

"I trust he is treating you and The Child well?" Kuiil motioned to the approaching Mandalorian.

"He's kind to us both," Aurelia chuckled.

"I suppose I should thank you for the recommendation of searching for her," Mando directed to the Ugnaught. "Although stubborn at times, she's done well in looking after The Child and myself."

"I knew she would. Though it is hard to get through to, her heart is always in the right place." Kuiil turned to hobble back towards the direction of his home. "Now come, it's rude of me to keep you out here when there is much we have to discuss."

_________

The group of travelers stooped down to enter Kuiil's surprisingly spacious, though low ceiling, house.

"It hasn't grown much," Kuiil remarked after eyeing The Child.

Mando nodded in agreement. "I think it might be a strand-cast."

"You mean like a...bio-engineered creature?" Aurelia wondered aloud.

"I don't think it was engineered," Kuiil disregarded. "I've worked in the gene farms. This one looks evolved, too ugly. This one on the other hand, looks like she was farmed in the Cytocaves of Nora."

Cara beamed at the Ugnaught's compliment.

"This is Cara Dune. She was a shock trooper," Mando introduced.

"You were a dropper?" Kuiil asked.

Cara tilted her head to the side curiously. "Did you serve?"

"On the other side, I'm afraid. But I'm proud to say that I paid out my clan's debt and now I serve no one but myself."

Aurelia glanced sadly at Kuiil, her heart heavy at the mention of his servitude. He was such a kind hearted, patient man. He called himself free but the level of generosity he showed to others and just how far he would go to someone, would make anyone think otherwise. The only difference is that Kuiil gave himself selflessly to helping those who needed it on his own freewill. In the corner of her eye, Aurelia couldn't help but notice the frown that kept across Cara's face at learning how the Ugnaught worked alongside the Empire.

The growing tension in the air between Cara and Kuiil was interrupted by another presence stepping foot into the room everyone was lounging around in. An IG unit stepped forth with a tray full of beverages in hand. All except Kuiil jumped and drew their blasters at its sudden appearance. Mando growled protectively and moved to stand in front of Aurelia and the foundling when he recognized the droid as one he had a previously had run in with during his initial hunt for The Child.

"Please lower your blasters. He will not harm you," Kuiil begged.

"That thing is programmed to kill the baby," Mando sneered.

"No, not anymore." Kuiil rose from his seat to stand alongside the droid. "After you departed with The Child, I traveled to the camp where your battle for him had been fought. Upon searching the remains of what hadn't been destroyed by your endeavors, I found this droid. Much effort went into reconstructing it and working with it to help it gain its mobility and functionality back. It was not an easy task, as it had to learn everything from scratch. I spent day after day reinforcing its development with patience and affirmation. It developed a personality as its experiences grew."

"It seems you seem to have a knack for rehabilitation and providing aid to those who need it," Aurelia smiled. Despite Mando's warning glare he was casting from behind his visor, she joined Cara in reaching out to take a cup from the droid's drink tray.

"Is it still a hunter?" Mando asked warily.

Kuiil shook his head and patted the droid in a prideful manner, obviously satisfied with both his handiwork and the chivalry of the IG unit.

As time continued to pass on Arvala-7, Kuiil opened what available space he had in his home to the weary travelers. Mando and The Child made their way back to the Crest with Cara occupying one of the spare rooms Kuiil had to offer. Aurelia wandered around the Ugnaught's property, petting the blurrgs that watched her from the comfort of their spacious pen. She took a seat next to the moisture farmer who was seated comfortably around a moderately sized fire several feet from his home.

"You've changed quite a bit since I've last seen you," Kuiil said earnestly. He passed a cup of tea to Aurelia, eyeing her carefully in the glow of the fire crackling outside his home. The pair sat comfortably near the warm flames despite the surrounding chill of the bone dry environment. The sun had set completely on the moisture farm, basking the bare landscape in a curtain of pitch black darkness save for the bright stars looming overhead. Even the vast array of twinkling speckles in the galaxy overhead couldn't penetrate through the intensity of the night sky to illuminate Kuiil and Aurelia while they sat alone in each other's missed company.

Aurelia smiled at the steaming herbal beverage situated in between her palms. "Much has happened these past few years, many good things as well. I hope it's been the same for you."

Kuiil sat thoughtfully for a moment with his own tea in hand. "It has, yes. I've finally found peace here. The Mandalorian has aided in this as well by ridding the valley of those who kept The Child captive."

Kuiil took a sip before staring hard at the woman in his company. "He is a good man."

Aurelia glanced at the Ugnaught who was watching her intently. The strength of his gaze made her redirect her stare into the fire pit.

"He seems to have changed as well since I last saw him. He's become more patient, less tense and closed off. Perhaps this is from him taking care of The Child. Perhaps it is from you as well."

"That's nonsense, Kuiil," Aurelia laughed, playing off his commentary.

"I have spoken," he said sternly, raising his cup to take one more sip.

Aurelia smiled to herself and shook her head at the man's inaccurate observation. Mando was her employer. He was a battle hardened, deadly hunter. The only thing that made him remotely softer was that he now had a kid to look after. It's highly possible that that little seed of loving, nurturing qualities about him had always been there, but the only thing that made it take root and grow was The Child, not her.

Aurelia slipped her fingers between the thick layers of her dust covered scarf. Pulling the long trail of fabric down and away from her neck, she breathed in the bittersweet scent of brewed tea leaves.

"All those years together, you never asked any questions you thought I wouldn't feel comfortable answering," Aurelia told the Ugnaught. Kuiil looked over her with a sad smile. "I have a faint idea of the hardships you must of been through. Even then, your story is different than mine, and I will never know exactly what you experienced in captivity. It was not my place to question your history, only to help you write a new one."

"And you did. I have much to thank you for. When I left here, the people of Tattooine called me Tajana, but my real name is Aurelia. The Mandalorian knows this, and now you do as well."

Kuiil smiled. "It is an honor to have you confide in me with such a secret. Has he seen your face as well?"

Aurelia shook her head. "No."

"Is there a reason for this?"

She frowned and looked away from her long-lost companion. "I've shown you because I trust you. You understand the burden that comes with the past of indentured servitude. We've done things we aren't proud of. I look this way because I helped free the others I was with. Though it's not something I should be ashamed of, I still am. When I look at myself, I see nothing but weakness and struggle. I'm reminded of all that I lost."

"Do you not trust The Mandalorian?" Kuiil asked.

Aurelia hesitated before answering. "I do with my life."

"The Mandalorian of all people should be the most understanding of the struggles of revealing yourself to the public. It is a burden to hide your face for so long. I'm sure he has done so since he himself was a child sworn into his creed. To gaze upon the face of another who is in hiding as well, he knows how much of a significant blessing it would be."

Aurelia looked at Kuuil uneasily. "I have spoken," he told her once more, and stood to retire in his hut for the remainder of the night.

#the mandalorian #mandalorian fanfic #Mando x oc #mando #star wars #star wars fanfiction #stay gold #My writing #fanfics #din djarin #din djarin x oc #pedro pascal

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imastrangeone98 · 5 years

Text

A Gentle Touch

(A/N: behold! my first one shot! :D there may be more, there may be less. this is my first time writing for the mandalorian (Star Wars in general) and I haven’t thought about a full fledged story... yet. also I'm still working on my dmc story that no one reads sob and my bnha storyline is coming together. after I publish chapter 12 for lost and found Ill get to work on the first chapter)

(ps this is also my first time writing smut. I was dared to by a friend. this is for you [you know who you are ;)]

WARNING: (probably) unrealistic sex. also (definitely) unsafe sex. (I never had sex before, but you should probably use a condom- that’s important. safe, sane and consensual amirite?) and highly unrealistic description of spaceships and lack of Star Wars knowledge

and the oc I created (I got it off a Star Wars name generator XD) is kyla baize. maybe I’ll make a thing for her after I come up with a story to use her in. and for the purpose of this story, I’ll assume that mando’s age is around his late 30s- he and kyla met around their late teens. and this probably takes place post-ep8

Din Djarin knew very well of the life he would live the second he swore The Creed. It would be one of solitude, and silence, and the cold beskar that covered him head to toe. In all honesty, he was comfortable with it...

...For the most part.

But as he sat in his seat at the cockpit, watching his medic fuss over the Child with a sweet smile on her face, he couldn’t help but wonder if The Creed was truly worth upholding.

“There, there, little one,” Kyla cooed, her smile growing wider when the Child stretched his arms towards her. “You seem sleepy. It must be time for bed!”

The Child whined slightly, but made no further protest when she scooped him up and cuddled him into her arms. She glanced towards Din, giving him a light smile. “I’ll put him to bed and set the coordinates. How about you go down and get some sleep?”

He hummed in response, simply enjoying the sight in front of him. Twenty years they had worked together, yet she never failed to take his breath away. “I’ll set the coordinates. You get some sleep; you more than earned it.”

“So do you,” she retorted, rubbing the Child’s back. “You know what- hold that thought; I’ll be back.” She turned around and descended the ladder, clearly preparing to put the baby to bed.

For a brief moment, he saw it- a swollen belly, a slight waddle, a tiny infant’s face- a perfect combination of her and him. A boy or a girl? What kind of person would they become? A warrior like him? Or a healer like their mother?

And then he remembered- The Creed. He was a Mandalorian, a bounty hunter to the core. There would be no room for more children in his life, or more time for a lover.

He was meant to be alone.

But... His heart betrayed him. But...

“Are you alright, Din?” A hand- warm to the touch- rested on his elbow. “You seem out of it.”

Snapped out of his thoughts, he gazed up at her, unable to stop himself from marveling at her. With the helmet on, in the sunlight, in complete darkness, she was beautiful. “I was just thinking.”

“About?”

He froze. “About...”

“Is it about today? What happened in Nevarro?” She frowned, lightly squeezing his elbow.

“...Yeah.” She wasn’t entirely wrong, but it still wasn’t fully right. “You could’ve died. You and the Child. I-“ His words got caught in his throat, and he almost choked. “I could’ve lost you.”

Kyla let out a small hum before sitting at his feet, resting her head on his knee. She gave him a smile, full of reassurance and hope. He stared just a tad too long at her lips. “But you didn’t. I’m still here, and so is the Child. You could never lose us, even if you wanted to.”

“But still, I...”

She rested a hand on his own. “I know. After Kuiil and IG-11...” A frown briefly made an appearance on her face; he wanted it gone. “We lost good people today. It was already hard when they died; I can’t imagine how I’d feel if you...”

She didn’t finish the thought. She didn’t need to. He knew fully well what she was going through.

But then she wiped the stray tears from the corners of her eyes and smiled again. “So I won’t imagine it. I’ll focus on the fact that you’re still here, alive and breathing. And I’m not going to mope anymore. They gave their lives so we could live ours, and I’ll honor them by living the best one I can.”

Din couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his mouth. She always knew what to say to make everyone feel better- he was no exception. “You’re right.”

“I know,” she teased, rubbing the side of his helmet in lieu of his cheek. He wished he could take it off. “Don’t overwork yourself; get some rest. You still have your head injury to consider.”

“Maybe later.”

She sighed, then shook her head. “You Mandalorians, I swear... Alright, but if the lights aren’t turned off in 30 minutes, I’ll make you rest.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

She grinned. “I have my ways.” Rising from the floor, she dusted herself off before resting a hand on the top of his helmet. “I’ll see you in the... morning? Something? Later.” With a shrug and a light laugh, she descended the ladder, and he could hear the sound of her cabin door sliding shut.

I have my ways.

When he turned back to the controls, he couldn’t stop the blush burning his cheeks.

He was glad for his helmet.

[...]

With the Razor Crest on autopilot, Din climbed down to the cargo hold to check on his clan.

His clan of three. The mere thought of those words had a bloom of heat blossoming in his chest.

Once more, the image from before entered his mind- a heavily pregnant Kyla waddling around, with the Child eagerly following her every move. He could see her lying in bed with her arms around her stomach, so sweet, so innocent-

He saw her face twist in pleasure, watched her clutch the ratty blankets as he continued to thrust into her warm, willing body, watched as his cum seeped out of her tight, wet-

He froze.

Fuck.

He immediately changed direction, heading straight to the refresher. A cold shower was in need if he planned on getting any sleep tonight.

[...]

He couldn’t sleep.

The nightmares had gotten worse. More faces swam in the inky darkness of his own mind- his mother and father, Kuiil, even that ridiculous IG unit...

But now, it was the Child, its tiny, limp body tossed aside by that Devaronian, Burg, who roared in sadistic laughter before turning his attention towards-

Towards-

He watched helplessly as Kyla cried out in pain, her hair tangled in the red bastard’s hands, watched as he began slamming her repeatedly into the ground, screamed and begged for him to stop, to torture him instead, and-

And he did, but she slumped to the ground; and as he finally gained back control over his body and scrambled his way over to her, he gazed into her glassy eyes and held her lifeless body close to his chest-

And screamed again when he saw his hands were stained red, and screamed and screamed and-

He jumped out of his bunk and stumbled out of his room, through the darkness of the Razor Crest (with no helmet- no one could see him anyway) and towards her room, making no attempt to be quiet. He slammed his hand on the door, begging for her to let him in, just please, Maker, let him in-

“Din? Is that you? What’s-“ Kyla stopped mid-sentence the moment he pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, sobs escaping his chest. “Are you alright?”

He didn’t answer, settling for burying his nose in the crook of her neck and breathing in her scent- sweet Bantha milk and cinnamon. She smelled alive.

“Din...” she murmured, rubbing small circles on his back. “It’s okay. I’m okay, I promise.”

Fuck, she felt so alive in his gloveless hands, so warm-

His lips ran over her throat and he pressed them against her skin, laving his tongue over her pulse. Fuck, she tasted like heaven-

He bit down. Hard.

She jumped, a small squeak squeezing past her lips. He wanted to hear more of it. “Din, are you-?”

He hummed as his lips traveled upward- brushing against her jaw and her cheek before resting against her mouth.

He pressed closer, so close that there was no space between them. And their lips remained locked together, even as he began to maneuver themselves towards the bed.

“Din!” she gasped as they fell onto the clunky mattress, only to be quickly replaced with the sweetest moan to ever grace his ears as he ran his hands down her sides until they rested on her hips. “Din, please-“

He shushed her, stripping her of her sleeping shorts and underwear and marveling at the soft skin of her inner thighs under his calloused palms. “Fuck, you’re perfect. So fucking perfect.”

“Din, you can’t even see me...”

“I don’t need to. I already knew; I’ve always known.” Leaning down to press a kiss on her thigh, he nosed his way down to the apex, unable to stop the moan rumbling out of his chest as he breathed in the smell of her body. She smelled so alive, so mouthwatering-

He couldn’t help himself- couldn’t stop himself, even if he wanted to. Without hesitation, he dragged his tongue over her slick entrance and delved deep, eager to elicit more of her sweet noises.

“Din!” she cried out, her fingers burying themselves in his hair. “Don’t- don’t stop, don’t ever stop-“

But he did. With a final, indulgent lick of her delectable cunt, he traveled upward, pausing for a few seconds to rip off her shirt, blatantly ignoring her weak protests and effectively silencing them with a swift kiss. She shivered underneath him, her soft moans smothered with his tongue as it tangled with her own.

With a free hand, Din stripped himself of his pants and positioned himself between her legs, but a warm hand rested on his shoulder.

“You didn’t get to...” she mumbled, voice dripping with pleasure. He could get drunk off the sound of it. She tugged off his shirt; he didn’t complain. “I wanna make you feel good too.”

“Maybe next time,” he whispered; his heart swelled with utter adoration. “But right now, I just need this. Are you alright?”

“Yes,” she breathed out, her hands intertwining around his neck.

“Do you want this?”

“Yes. Please; I want you.”

And with her reassurance, he slowly pressed himself into her...

Well...

He really did try to go slow. He really did. But the second his tip pressed into her velvety warmth, he saw galaxies dance across his vision- and he was done for.

With a quick snap of his hips, he sunk down to the hilt. Kyla gasped, hands moving to his shoulders as she squirmed underneath him in an attempt to adjust.

Don’t move yet, he managed to tell himself. Let her breathe first.

But fuck, it was so hard. Even as he buried his face into her neck in an attempt to ground himself, her scent only took him higher, far past the edges of the galaxy, far past any star system, far past the universe.

“Din,” Kyla murmured. Fuck, he loved when she said his name. “You can move.” She rolled her hips, and his cock sunk in just a tad deeper.

Maker, he felt that.

Immediately, he began to thrust into her, and he was, again, struck dumb by how utterly warm she was, how divine she felt around him.

“Fuck, so tight,” he growled out, sinking his teeth into her neck, never losing his rhythm. “How- how are you so goddamn tight? Fuck, it’s like you’re made for me-“

“I’m yours,” she sobbed, her head pressed into his chest. “I’m only yours, Din-“

Her words sent a sharp jolt running through his body. Instantly, he grabbed her legs and threw them over his shoulders, absorbing her ever-increasing moans as he delved further into her warm, wet cunt.

“Kyla,” he breathed out; his black vision was starting to turn white at the edges, and at the center of it all, he saw her. “You’re my everything. You’re my sun, my moon, the stars in my sky-“

“Oh, Din...” she croaked, leaning upwards just a tad to press a kiss to his skin.

“My world revolves around you,” he moaned into her ear. “My sweet goddess, I’m yours- everything I am is yours-“

She tightened around him. He swore; comets soared underneath his eyelids, and he could just see her beautiful eyes- eyes that shone brighter than any star.

“I love you, Din,” she cried, her grip around his neck tightening just slightly. “I love you with all I have, IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou-“

And with a broken shout, they came, each whispering the other’s name, raw love embedded in every syllable, laced in the air they breathed, soaked in their skin.

And as they laid together, limbs tangled so thoroughly that neither could tell where one ended and the other began, Din knew- deep in his heart- that there was no need for fear.

She was here, with him, in his arms, tiredly and lovingly stroking the edges of his face, mapping out every crease and line in his skin, fingers tracing his lips.

“I love you,” she repeated, and he didn’t need his sight to know that she was smiling at him.

She felt warm. She felt alive.

“I love you,” he whispered, caressing her cheek and leaning down to kiss her.

She made him feel so, so alive.

———————————————————————

A/N: my god this is the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written and will probably ever write.

Help me I need to bleach my eyeballs with holy water-

#the mandalorian #din djarin #baby yoda #the child #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x oc #din djarin x reader #din djarin x oc

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bellsybuilds · 4 years

Link

[Part 2 of the Truck Stops and Tribulations series (link)]

<< previous part | next chapter >>

The way home - chapter 1 (T rating and warnings will change)

Din Djarin, Paz Viz(s)la, Baby Yoda, Jack “Agent Whiskey” Daniels, Poppy Adams (modern AU, all human, road trips, found family, family reunions)

---

Din just wants to keep this kid safe, but the effort is taking him cross-country and he's loathe to admit he can't do it alone. Paz is the trucker who rescues them one night, and is strangely happy to keep on helping them. Jack is the estranged, obnoxious brother Din likes to pretend he doesn't have, but beggars can't be choosers.

And Poppy is the up-and-coming drug mogul who will make them all reconsider their life choices.

Set pre-Kingsman: the Golden Circle.

Daylight is low, the sun all but set, and the air has sharpened with the oncoming chill of night when the three men emerge with the child from the Kentucky diner.

Din Djarin has barely slept since the Eastern bounty hunter's guild of Nevarro cut ties with him a week ago. He could have survived without the guild's network but the bounty on his own head doesn't help with the matter of getting a restful night's sleep.

Not when he's already running to protect one smaller and so much more vulnerable. A bounty is too large a burden for any toddler to bear.

They’re risking a lot in the hope Din's twin, Jack Daniels, can help with that.

“So, the ones following you.” Jack glances over his shoulder, waving them toward the black Wrangler parked out front and centre. “Who are they?”

The practiced answer catches in Din’s throat when he sees the way his driver looks at Jack’s jeep: Paz Vizla has a mean glower when he wants to use it.

“We’ll bring my truck,” Paz says. He doesn’t sound nor look interested in arguing the point.

Jack cocks an eyebrow from the six-feet-five-inch trucker to his blue, gold and red semi-trailer waiting by the adjacent country road. The cowboy blows out a long exhale and tips his hat back at the truck so large it couldn’t fit in the diner’s lot.

“Well,” he shakes his head. “I don’t mean to sound indelicate but-- aren’t we trying to fly under the radar here? Maybe Optimus Prime ain’t the ride you want for a quiet entry where we’re going.”

Paz shakes his head, frowning and lost. “Where are we going?”

“Distillery,” Din says, quiet and firm. “Right? Same place?”

His brother nods, scanning him with a considering look. Din wonders if he’s weighing the risk of bringing them home -- a stranger and the one who spurned the opportunity of a lifetime.

Well, one man’s golden goose was another man’s choking hazard.

“Why--?” Paz begins to question, but Din catches his eye, holds it, anchoring the man with him.

Caution, they had agreed. Not too many questions.

After a heavy pause, Paz huffs impatiently under his breath. He straightens, stubbornly resigned, broad shoulders pushing back under that unseasonably thin down jacket (what an envy, not to feel the cold). They had agreed to err on the side of caution with Jack, but Paz placing his trust in Din at all is still a wonder to him. At the end of the day, he and Paz are still strangers to each other. One week is not long enough to know a person.

“Fine.” The driver looks to Din’s brother. “I’ll follow you. I’ll park a block away and come the rest on foot. Keep a line open to let us know when we’re close.”

Din watches his brother adjust the kid on his hip. Jack had been awful reluctant to give up the chance to carry the little one, even just a little bit farther.

The kid’s small hands are closed tight on his thick sleeves, dark eyes gazing up into his face, lips parted and glistening with the threat of a fresh dribble. Jack looks down into that round face with a small smile. The little one burbles a soft noise of wonder, entranced. Maybe it’s the moustache.

Jack looks to his brother, jerks his head at their taller company. “Do we need him?”

Ugh. Din sighs. Jack has never been shy about speaking his mind and making Din’s life difficult. And people complained about Din’s manners.

In the long shadows of dusk, Paz’s frown pulls deep. Din glances away before the man can catch him staring.

“He’s coming,” Din says. “And the kid’s booster seat is still strapped in. All our stuff is on that truck.”

Jack glances between them, coming to some conclusion, and it rankles how his mouth again draws into a shallow shrug: if you say so, little brother. “Note the license,” He directs Paz to his Jeep’s black plates. “Don’t get lost.” And then to his twin, “Take it you’re riding with him if the kid’s seat’s up there?”

Din frowns at the Jeep, gently biting his inner cheek.

Has it really been only days since he met Paz? It feels like months. Maybe once they’ve spent more than a week together, Din will trust the kid alone with him.

Unlikely.

I don’t trust anyone.

Din steps in and opens his hands for the child. The kid automatically raises short arms in response, and Jack’s expression softens. He hands him over with the familiar confidence of someone accustomed to handling tiny, floppy humans, and Din wonders what small children have been in his life lately.

“You mind giving my brother and I a minute?” Jack nods to the semi waiting on the other side of the road.

Behind Din’s shoulder, Paz grunts in assent and steps off, the crunch of gravel fading with his distance.

Jack watches him leave, gaze lingering on his broad back until he’s satisfied, then his hands find his hips and the look he gives Din makes his gut churn in old anxiety.

“Where the hell did you find him?”

“He… found me,” Din explains lamely, throat dry.

The child pulls itself up higher on his chest with a loud yawn, small hands in his collar.

“And why was he looking for you?”

“He was passing through the same diner on his way to finish a job. He saw us getting shot at. He stepped in.”

Jack’s expression twists with ugly skepticism. “Awful samaritan of him.”

How was Jack always so infuriatingly patronising?

“We’ve been running for a week, Jack,” Din snaps. He is so tired and his brother is annoying. “He took a big risk giving us cover. But don’t worry. I’m cutting him loose.”

“Hey, I’m not worried. It’s your life. But you could have come straight to me.”

Din snorts under his breath. “Right.”

And all would have been forgiven after Din left him with a broken jaw and a black eye.

He swallows, throat tightening. “You told me not to come back,” Din reminds him.

Jack shrugs it off, shaking his head. “And when the fuck have you ever listened to me? We’re brothers. Remember, you and me? That’s all we got.”

Din scowls at him. He’s not the one with a memory problem.

“We got a lot of catching up to do,” Jack murmurs, searching his twin’s face. “It’s been three years, Din.”

Din bites his lip, his gaze dropping. Gravel crunches under the kick of his boot. “Yeah,” and goddamnit, his voice still cracks.

There are a lot of things they could (and should) talk about, but this isn’t the time and he can’t name a single subject he’d volunteer to start.

He’s grateful for the excuse of the child, shifting the warm bundle to the cradle of his other elbow to give all his nervous energy somewhere to go.

Small fingers curl into his short beard with a quizzical noise. The kid’s dark eyes search his, sweet mouth pouting up at him, as though asking, What are you doing? Where are we going?

He tugs the kid’s thick beanie low around its ears and heavy lashes blink under his brush of its nose. It’s going to be okay.

“You look alright.” Din notes the good state of his brother’s clothes, the lack of shadows under his eyes, and the absence of bourbon on his breath. Three years ago, it was a different story.

Jack snorts a quiet laugh, pleased as always for every compliment. “And you look like you ain’t seen the struts of a real bed in months.” His voice drops. “I can’t get you inside, but we can get close enough and get the kid seen to. We got lodgings usually used by tour groups, but should be space enough for the two of you and the--”

Jack tips his hat in Paz’s direction and shrugs for lack of a satisfying way to summarise.

“-- Trucker.”

Din just nods, refusing to rise to Jack’s scathing tone. His brother can keep wondering. “Thanks.”

For helping with the kid. For their shelter. For not asking all the questions Din had expected, and agreeing to see him at all. He doesn’t remember his brother as a generous man. He swallows, just a mite nervous.

“I can pay you.”

Jack waves him off, nose wrinkled. “Don’t want your money. But the ones following you and the kid. They close?”

“We got a day’s lead on them. Maybe less.”

“You’d gain more if you ditch that guy and his transformer. The semis are known and tracked. If they saw you get in that thing, they’ll see you coming for miles. And this guy.” Jack’s shoulders rise with the casual shrug of his offer. “He sounds too convenient. Am I gonna have to shoot him?”

It’s an honest offer and as casual a gesture as taking out the trash. Jack doesn’t even ask if Din could just dismiss the guy. It’s so Jack, and sheds years of distance between them. Some of the tension drops from Din’s shoulders.

He wants to argue that there are still good people out there.

He shakes his head.

“If it goes bad.” Din glances to the truck and Paz is watching them, leaned up against the tall wheel, thick arms folded, eyes dark. “I’ll shoot him myself.”

///

Once back in the truck, Din says, “After this, we go our own way.”

Paz has just shut his door behind him. The cabin is briefly swamped in darkness, and pale light washes in from the diner’s sign over the dashboard. He stares at Din, the weight of his frown prickling on Din’s neck. The silence draws out a beat longer than comfortable.

Jaw tight, Din keeps his attention on buckling the kid into its booster seat between them.

“What did he say to you?” Paz asks, low and cautious.

The little one watches Din’s hands with keen interest and his small feet kick happily once secured.

“Your truck is distinct. We need to stay discreet.” Din reaches for his own seatbelt and looks ahead to the road.

“The truck the only problem?”

Din worries the inside of his cheek, rolling his jaw. “Your taste in music could use some work.”

Paz snorts a laugh and his seatbelt clicks into place. “You mean: you could use an updated education. Hick.”

Din bites his lip to repress a smile, looking out the window.

The truck rumbles to life. For a moment they idle, waiting for fuel to warm the engines. It’s not so cold that Paz probably needs to worry about the lines freezing, but there’s snow out there and Din has learned Paz is not the sort of man who likes to take chances with his home.

That’s what this truck is, after all: more than a transport and a vocation, it’s the man’s mobile home on the road. Din hasn’t asked if there’s a more permanent place waiting for Paz at the end of the line. The thought makes him uncomfortable in a way that’s difficult to name.

A soft thud lands by the kid’s booster seat. Din startles at the tall, feline face that suddenly rears into his vision, the weight of heavy paws pressing against his thigh.

For such a large animal, Paz’s maine coon is adept at sneaking up on him time after time. Din’s had a week to train his senses, but this giant among cats only makes a sound when it wants to be heard. Din could stand to learn a few pointers from its stealth.

He sags, shoulders dropping their tension. The ginger cat sniffs his cheek, his chin, blinking up at him curiously. Long whiskers tickle his beard. Maybe it’s scenting the roast he had in the diner. And to his surprise, the creature is purring.

Din glances to her owner, wary at her proximity. The last time she got this close, she was glaring him down into the pillows, fur aglow in the late afternoon sun wondering why this stranger was waking up in her human’s bed.

Where else was he supposed to sleep?

It is not lost on Din that he's painted a target on Paz, too.

The kid perks up with a burble of delight, small hands reaching for the cat's thick tail swishing back and forth in his face.

“She deciding if she wants to eat me?” Din asks, leaning away from her roving nose.

Paz shifts the truck into gear with an easy smile and reaches over for his charge, stroking a firm hand down her back. His fingers disappear in the long fur. “C’mere, baby.”

The feline meows at the familiar touch, turning and pouncing immediately into Paz’s waiting lap. She’s large enough to fill his arms and make him crane around the impressive flare of her tail as tall as his torso. Din stares and wonders, not for the first time, why Paz decided on an attack cat instead of a dog like any normal trucker.

Din hasn’t known many truckers, but there’s something different about Paz.

The other man blows out a comical breath of exasperation at the cat circling over and over in his lap to find the perfect spot. She fills his face with fur as he checks his mirrors and pulls them onto the road. He pats the dashboard, “Up” and she follows the instruction seamlessly, well accustomed to this routine.

The cat stretches along the dash’s full, impressive length and Paz tosses his cap up beside her. She’s a driving hazard, but one Paz is clearly familiar negotiating.

“You ever thought about giving her a real name?” Din asks, pointing to his brother’s Jeep waiting at the street corner.

'Ms Kitty' worked so long as there were no other competing felines in the district.

Paz grunts an unimpressed noise under his breath and pulls the truck into convoy. “You call your kid ‘kid’.” It’s a nudge, not unkind; don’t judge me. Pot, kettle.

Din almost smiles . But the kid is not his kid.

Not that Paz needs to know that.

“Point taken.”

The distillery is not far from the diner. A twenty minute drive at most.

The cat dozes with its long limbs stretched out and the kid yawns into his over-large jacket collar. The quiet has almost settled back to the silent ease they usually enjoyed.

“What you said in the diner….”

Din looks over at their driver. “What?”

Paz is watching the road, eyes intent. The muscles of his jaw visibly tense. “Have I… done anything to make you not trust me?”

Din is grateful for the shadows and Paz keeping his eyes on the road so he can’t see the warm flush rise on Din’s neck. Damn it. He bites his tongue and idly grinds one fist into the palm of his other hand, wishing for the gloves in his pack behind the seat.

“It’s nothing personal,” he says, eventually. No, that feels… not enough. He sighs and unclenches his jaw enough to push the words out. “I’m grateful. For your help. You didn’t have to help us in the lot and... driving us cross country. Now, with Jack. I know it's a lot.”

“It’s fine,” Paz says quietly.

“We’ve asked enough. We'll be out of your hair soon,” Din decides.

It has felt unsettling leaning on someone like this: like easing down into a familiar chair but wary of how long its frame will hold. It’s sad to say, but he hasn’t asked for nor accepted the help of another person in a long time.

They’ve travelled together for a mere week. But a week in Din’s book would convert to long months by a normal person’s standard. And he hasn’t enjoyed many measures of ‘normal in his life’.

“If you want to go, I won’t stop you,” Paz says. He sounds distant, mind faraway. “It’s been my honour to help you two.”

Din frowns, hand closing tight over his fist.

It makes him uncomfortable when Paz speaks like this-- the air electrifying around him, his words falling with the gravity of things Din can’t see or understand. Paz would sound ridiculous if he didn’t sound so genuine.

It’s unsettling being in the presence of… that. Whatever that is.

“What you said,” Din parries the attention. “Growing up with guns. Running. Was that true?”

“It is.” Paz nods, glancing over his shoulder to change lanes as Jack’s rear lights signal a turn ahead of them. The long wave of Paz’s dark fringe almost falls in his eyes and Din watches him push it back with a hand, fingers threading through those heavy waves. “It was rough. I wouldn’t wish that on any kid.”

Din thinks about that and the way it resonates, the ghost of an ache down to his bones. “I’m sorry.”

Paz shrugs. “I’m not a kid anymore. I’m doing all right.”

He glances Din’s way, catching him with a wry smile. Din can’t help but return it and huffs a laugh under his breath. A warm stillness blooms through the tension in his chest left from his conversation with Jack.

Maybe there are still good people out there. But he’s not going to wait around to be disproved.

A small, loud yawn breaks between them, tailing to an exhausted whine.

Din winces with guilt, looking down into the kid’s slow, teary blink under the lamp lights streaming by. How does something so small make such a large sound?

“Aw, kiddo.” Paz sighs, equally pained in sympathy.

Din leans in, heart twisting when the kid turns its face up to the hand he smoothes over its tufty hair, thumb gently stroking its forehead. “Not long now,” he murmurs. “I promise.”

The kid closes its eyes with a soft, unhappy sound and leans into his palm. So small. So vulnerable. He doesn’t have it in him to pull away, fingers sinking into the short, black fuzz of its hair. This kid needs -- the kid deserves more protection than he can provide.

He’s guilty to admit Paz had answered some of that anxiety up until now. But they can’t hide here with him forever.

It’s mere minutes later that Paz announces, “All right, pulling over.”

Din steels himself and strokes the baby soft skin beneath his thumb. Forever is a nice dream, though.

///

Humidity is supposed to be good for one’s skin, but Poppy Adams would sooner dehydrate and mummify than weather another night in the jungle without air conditioning.

Night brings little relief. The jungle hums, chirping and screeching, the nocturnal shift of nature leaving no illusion of her party’s solitude. These ruins were ‘undiscovered’, but although no other humans linger within radio distance, they are not alone. It doesn’t matter.

This is her home now.

Break over, the scream of chainsaws fills the night and Poppy’s team resumes the heavy work of clearing the jungle strangling the old settlement.

Sighing, she turns the electric fan up beside her to its max setting and sighs at the fresh blast of air, collecting her hair up off her neck. Squinting at the monitor before her, the video feed is difficult to see beneath the glare of floodlights casting their clearing as bright as day.

The black and white picture on the monitor freezes and distends. Poppy scowls, pressing buttons to no avail. What the hell is this, the actual 1950’s? After a patient stretch of seconds longer than any technology deserves, she throws up her hands in disbelief.

“Eli!”

The technician appears at her elbow, shoulders hunched and drawn. Poppy’s face wrinkles at the acrid stench of sweat that fills her nose from an arm’s distance. She expects a certain level of dress sense and hygiene from her people, but...

“Baby, why do you smell like that?” she asks, gaze lingering on the thick sweat of his brow. “Am I not paying you enough for deodorant?”

Taking Eli on was a favour to her late father, the man’s previous employer. Eli is her man for telecommunications, her doctor for everything technological. Getting a clear and reliable signal this far out from civilisation is reason enough to sweat, but that’s why she brought him on board. Eli was supposed to be the best and worth all the times he made her teeth grind with his nervous twitching. Nervous people are so annoying.

“I’m sorry, Miss Poppy. It’s just--”

“Poppy,” she corrects, appraising his pitiful, shiny demeanour.

“Poppy.” He ducks his head in apology. Poppy pulls a face when he mops his brow with his sleeve and it comes away with a wide, dark streak. The soft grey of his suit is already stained with all shades of jungle. Well, she won’t be sending him to represent her at any board meetings, that’s for sure. “I will re-apply as soon as I get back to my things.”

Poppy waves off his ramblings. More constructively, she thrusts a hand at her unresponsive monitor. “Why does my surveillance feed look like a boiled VHS tape?”

Eli blinks, wide eyes darting to the suitcase-mounted computer. “Ah. That may be… m-may I?”

Spinning the computer around to her tech support, Poppy sits back, fanning herself even as the electric fan whirs on.

Getting the diner water-tight and wired up with A/C is the first priority. Until then, the building is a dank tomb trapping the worst of the humidity and she is better off braving the elements with her fan, the work site’s bright, bright lights and all the jungle’s insects it attracts.

An uncomfortably large cricket the size of her hand falls down dead with a loud zap by her thigh. She brushes it away with a grimace.

The things she endures for better world order.

Eye on the prize, Poppy.

Eli straightens before the computer and turns it back round to her. “There you go, Miss Poppy. Please try again.”

She blinks at him, slow and heavy. She does not spare a glance to her restored monitor. “Eli, baby, I’m not inspired with confidence in your abilities when you can’t even remember how to address me properly.”

His eyes fly to her face and his sweat-flushed complexion pales to a pallor that almost makes her cringe in pity.

“I-I’m sorry, Poppy. It’s just how I was raised. Respect for our elders--”

“Oh, you’re saying I’m old?”

Eli pales even further. His shoulders begin to shake with his nervous tremors. “N-no it’s… respect for superiors, a-and--”

Poppy throws up her hand to mime a beak closing. “Your face, your voice. They grate on my nerves. I’m sorry, I feel terrible saying it, but it’s true. So, be quiet. And let’s see if you fixed this.”

She presses play on the video. This time, the visual snow resolves into the high vantage of a large parking lot filled with cars. The image is smooth and fluid as the seconds tick by. In the bottom corner, movement --

She claps in exasperated delight. “Oh, at last! It’s working.”

It’s difficult to make out at first: the blur of indistinct shapes coalescing into hooded figures under the tall street lamps. A long semi-trailer occupies the bottom right of the frame.

Light flashes in the dark at the foot of the Waffle House stair; the spark of a gun firing.

Poppy glances up at Eli, hovering with some trepidation at her shoulder. “Is there sound on this?”

He tests a few commands on the keyboard. “N-no, Poppy. It doesn’t seem so.”

She hums in disappointment. “Oh well.”

The surveillance footage lights up with more flares in the dark, glittering around the carpark like the desperate putters of dragonflies. Multiple shooters.

“Just a moment,” Eli reaches past her again, the image paling and brightening under the magic of his intervention.

“Oh that’s much better,” Poppy smiles when the featureless dark encompassing much of the image sharpens with the outline of vehicles parked row upon row, a full customer contingent even at 2am in the morning.

Where are they….?

Poppy leans in, squinting at the barely discernible figure standing strong at the foot of the stair, a significant lump high on their back.

The picture almost whites out with an abrupt flare of light from the bottom right of the frame, long and spitting. The gout of flame peters out and at its source towers a new person: broad-shouldered and stalking towards the figure at the stairs.

“Whoa,” Eli breathes as the flamethrower erupts again, spewing at the bounty hunters now cowering back against the cars for cover.

Poppy leans in. “That’s him.”

They watch the tall one shift the heavy flamethrower to his back, something equally bulky but short sliding into his hands from the opposite shoulder. The muzzled puff that alights from the barrel of this artillery is an anticlimax after the draconic display.

But Poppy’s eyebrows rise at the consequent explosion engulfing several cars in a furious inferno.

“Okay… okay,” she murmurs, knuckle brushing her lower lip as she considers the possibilities.

It looks like the target had called for support, and the cavalry was packing heat.

“Update the intelligence,” she glances at Eli still gaping at the monitor. “It looks like he has help now. Advise they’re heavily armed.”

As they watch, the figures dash to the cover of the semi-trailer. The large truck shudders to life, a new explosion billowing up in the car park as it pulls onto the road, the carnage covering their escape. And conveniently lighting up the night well enough to get a read on the license plate.

“It’s only a partial,” Eli clarifies as they both squint at the frozen picture, the image’s fidelity failing to stand up to the demands of magnification. “But between this and the truck’s markings, it might help.”

“Up the bounty.” Poppy fans herself, settling back in her seat, face wrinkling as her shirt clings to her spine with sweat. “If people are going up against that kind of firepower, they’ll expect to be well-compensated.”

And let nobody say that Poppy Adams won’t compensate for a job well done.

Eli almost bows to her, head low. “Yes, Poppy.”

She snickers, watching him. He’s endearing, for all that she wants to dunk him in a pool of deodorant. “Go now, Eli. We’re on a deadline.”

<< previous part | next chapter >>

#truck stops and tribulations series #the mandalorian #kingsman: the golden circle #din djarin #paz vizla #paz vizsla #baby yoda #jack daniels #agent whiskey #paz/din #found family #family reunions #road trip #all human AU #poppy adams

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dindjarinandlysakane · 1 year

Text

The Sweetest Taste | Chapter 36 -Home

When Din Djarin meets a beautiful cake seller from Nevarro, do you think he’s just going to stand back and let her suffer at the hands of her abusive boyfriend? After a lifetime of heartache and pain, Lysa Kane realises she’s not on her own any more and finds an unlikely friend in the Mandalorian. And Din Djarin does not like men who treat women like that, not one tiny bit. Friendship/comfort and maybe something more…

Masterlist

Chapter 36 - Home

————

***(This chapter contains NSFW content. 18+)***

It was late by the time Din Djarin set his N-1 Naboo Starfighter down, just twenty feet or so from his small dark cabin, set amongst the lava flats of the Nevarro desert.

Din felt the humidity and heat of the night hit him the moment he jumped down from the ship, a sleeping Grogu nestled sweetly in his arms, where he had been, for practically the entire duration of their journey home.

Chasing down the rogue TIE-fighter had taken a little over a day, with Din’s pulse wave rifle coming in very handy in taking down the ship and its smuggler pilot, leaving them in the capable hands of Bo Katan and the other residents of Mandalore to deal with.

Bo Katan had of course offered him a place to stay for the evening. But she had smiled knowingly as Din had told her he wanted to return to Nevarro promptly, under the obviously-false pretence of ensuring that all was well on the planet he now called home. When the truth of the matter was, all he wanted to do was get home and see Lysa. As if his very life depended on it.

He had been aching for her since he’d left Nevarro just two nights ago. And returning here now, there was only one person on his mind.

Strolling up the steps towards the small house, Din approached the door as it slid open before him.

The cabin was dark, with Din knowing that with the lateness of the hour, Lysa was likely in bed, perhaps asleep.

As he entered into his small home, he made straight for Grogu’s bedroom, noting a fresh and appetising loaf of bread sat upon the dining table, as he passed it.

The door to Grogu’s small sleeper slid open, to reveal his son’s cosy bed, illuminated by the satellite viewport situated above it.

Din placed the still-sleeping Grogu neatly down onto the bed, not bothering with any covers considering the heat, and pressed a button just below the viewport accusing the shutters to slide closed. The room instantly fell into complete darkness. Din hovered for a moment, considering this, before turning and leaving the room.

Back out in the living space, all felt quiet, not a sound being made in the dark-room save for Din’s heart thumping in his chest as he made up his mind on where to go next.

If this had been just a week ago, Din would not have hesitated to remain out here, settling himself on the stiff couch for the night, or perhaps even declining sleep altogether. All to ensure Lysa was not disturbed by him.

But now he wanted to disturb her…and he knew that she would want that too. His mind flitting back to the last words she had said to him before he’d left…

“I need you.”

That was all it had taken for Din to know that she felt as strongly for him as he did for her.

Those three words with so much meaning behind them, the look in her eyes and the way her hand had touched him, filling in the gaps so easily.

And so now, he would no longer linger out here alone, offering her space. Instead he wanted the opposite. To close the gap between them until there was nothing left at all.

And so taking a deep breath, Din placed his hand to the switch, causing the door to his sleeper to side open with a hiss.

Seeing movement, Din blinked as his eyes settled upon the gorgeous figure of Lysa, propping herself up onto her elbows suddenly, her lips parting in a look of surprise at his sudden presence.

Dank Farrik.

She looked utterly mouth-watering. Her long honey-coloured hair, loose and tousled around her shoulders, and her eyes lidded and sultry-looking as she stared back at him.

He noticed at once that she was wearing very little except for a pale white loose blouse, tied low over her breasts, and which seemed to skim down to the very tops of her legs, which were now pressed together, knees hitched up, feet shifting against the sheets below her.

A thin sheen of perspiration seemed to cling to her tanned collarbone now, reflecting against the starlight from the viewport to her left.

To Din she looked like every lustful dream he had ever had all wrapped up in one.

And all that Din Djarin knew at this very moment, was that he wanted her.

------------------------

Lysa pushed herself off of her elbows, coming to sit upright. Staring now at the very familiar figure, standing there in full beskar armour in the doorway to the sleeper.

She had been dozing when she had heard the engines of Din’s ship land outside, and had lay there awake and hopeful. Wondering if the tall Mandalorian would come to see her now…in the quiet of the night.

To anyone else, the sight of a Mandalorian at the end of their bed would have sent fear into the hearts of even the bravest of fellows. But for Lysa there was no worry to be had. No apprehension about what he wanted with her in this late an hour.

Lysa could feel her heart hammering inside her chest, breathing hard, her eyes on him and nothing else.

“I’m glad you're home,” she uttered in a soft voice, feeling her cheeks tinged in the slightest shade of pink as he gazed at her, wolf-like and stoic.

She, all of a sudden, felt quite vulnerable, lying before him in nothing but her single loose undergarment and nothing else.

It had been such a hot night, Lysa was unable to bear anything more, not realising that Din would be back so soon.

“I should take the chair…” murmured Din in a low, husky voice through his modulator, gesturing with his head back towards the living space behind him.

But Lysa gave a small smirk now, lifting her chin slightly.

“This is your bed, Din Djarin, you should take it,” she replied. There was no way after a journey as long as his, she was going to let him sleep out there. She was already a guest in his home, she could easily take the couch if that was what he wanted.

But did he want that?

Lysa felt a pull of nerves in the pit of her stomach.

Had she read the signals wrong?

But Din spoke before she could worry further.

“In that case, would you consider sharing the bed with me again?” he asked in a low, firm voice.

Lysa felt a smile of relief try and tug at her lips, but she played it down, her breath catching in her throat.

She gave a gentle nod.

Din was unmoving for a long moment, his eyes still on her, before she suddenly saw him press his hand to the switch, closing the door behind them.

Shutting out the world.

Leaving the two of them utterly alone now.

Lysa felt her breathing shallow, watching now as Din slowly began to remove each piece of beskar plating one by one.

He had slept in his armour the last night they had spent together in this sleeper. So this was a step that Lysa had hoped for, but never had expected.

It was a slow process and Lysa was still not quite sure what to do. Unsure if he would prefer her to look away.

But as though entranced, she merely sat there, in silence, hearing the hiss of each plate as they were removed, and placed at Din’s feet one by one.

The starlight from the shuttered viewport beside her, seemed to shroud him in a blue shadowed light.

Piece by piece the beskar disappeared, followed swiftly by his boots. Leaving Din looking far less stiff, as he stood there finally in just a dark tunic and black pants.

Lysa’s eyes travelled up and down his lean and tall form, unable to stop her curiosity.

It was the first time Lysa had ever seen him without his armour. And despite her only being dressed in a thin blouse and nothing else, Din might as well have been stood before her naked. The gesture far more intimate than anyone would have realised.

But Lysa did.

She could almost feel Din’s nerves now. Obvious that this was not something the Mandalorian did often, as he stood at the end of the bed, turning to face her once more.

A silence filled the room, as both adults merely gazed at one another, Lysa’s heart hammering inside her ribs.

She wasn't sure what to say, caught completely off guard by the entire situation. She hadn't expected him home tonight, and so the idea of sharing a bed with him after what felt like several long torturous days without him, sent her head spinning.

Lysa’s chest rose and fell, as her green eyes lingered on the last piece of beskar upon his person.

“If you want to take off your helmet I can turn away,” she murmured. Her voice was honest now. She knew that if that was something Din wanted, then she would make sure she would comply.

After his long journey she wanted him to be comfortable. He had been kind enough to let her share his bed, so whatever she could do to not put him out any further, she would do it.

“It doesn’t work like that,” came Din’s sudden reply.

Instantly Lysa felt crestfallen, but her eyes lingered on him for a long moment.

“If you were here alone, you’d take it off to sleep?” she asked gently. Watching as the Mandalorian gave a nod.

“Yes.”

“Then I should sleep out there, on the couch,” Lysa said quickly, with a shake of her head, her tone serious. “You’ve travelled so far, you need rest.”

It was not what she wanted at all. But he was her priority, and she would do what she could to help him.

But Din spoke suddenly, his voice low through his modulator.

“If we close the shutters. Shut out the light then…I could remove it….with you here.”

At his words, Lysa felt her entire body become warm, her breathing becoming suddenly laboured.

She gave a hurried nod, swallowing hard, as she glanced at the button situated just below the viewport.

A nervous energy seemed to pass through her entire body, as with one final glance back to Din, her fingers grazed over the button…

…suddenly plummeting them both into pitch darkness.

Lysa could see nothing now, not even her hand in front of her face as she retracted it from the window.

Anxiously waiting for Din to join her on the bed, she slid across the mattress slightly to make room. And it was a few moments before she felt him sink down onto the edge of the sleeper…

…and the sudden hiss of a seal being broken. A telltale giveaway that he had removed his helmet, with Lysa hearing the clunk of beskar against the wooden floor boards as he placed it down at his feet.

Lysa felt her heart rate quick even further, hearing him give an audible swallow, as his fingers fumbled at the buttons on his tunic.

It was a strange sensation, being denied any sort of visibility. With Lysa feeling like all her other senses were suddenly heightened. As the sound of Din peeling off his tunic followed, hearing it get dropped to the floor with a resounding whump.

A moment later, she felt the sheets move slightly beneath them, feeling Din shift up the bed, coming to sit facing her…

…with Lysa suddenly aware of the heat of his skin close to hers.

Oh kriff.

She could hear Din’s ragged breaths. The sound faint, but enough to drive Lysa utterly wild. With him sounding as utterly tormented as she felt.

She could feel him now, so so very close, feeling a torturous desperation flood her every pore.

She knew she wanted him badly. Every moment they had shared since meeting had been leading up to this moment.

With her heart racing, Lysa gently tilted her face close to his in the darkness, feeling him do the same. His warm breath suddenly dancing over her soft lips.

She had to stop herself from moaning out, her eyelids fluttering closed as she bathed in the intoxicating feeling of his mouth so very close to hers.

And suddenly, unable to help herself any longer, Lysa reached out a hand, suddenly feeling warm skin beneath her fingers, as she slid her palm over a broad shoulder a mere two inches from her. Far closer than she expected.

At the contact, she heard Din’s breath quicken, her own following suit soon after, as she ran her hand over his shoulder, feeling his muscles tensed beneath her fingers.

Lysa feeling completely drunk on him.

His nose brushing hers…

…followed by his lips.

Just the lightest graze.

A gesture so gentle and delicate.

Kriff…

Feeling his bare hand reach for the small of her waist, as their lips brushed for a second time.

But at the feeling of his mouth ghosting over hers once more, Lysa couldn't stop herself any longer…

Her hand sliding up to the back of his neck…pulling him into her...kissing him desperately.

And it took less than a second for Din to react to her, giving a gentle groan into her mouth as he parted his lips, his warm tongue finding hers.

His lips were softer than Lysa had expected, having thought on them far more over the past few nights than she would ever tell.

They kissed each other with such need, it was as though they had waited years to get to this point.

Starved lips lapping at one another, as Lysa let out a pleasurable moan as they separated for a brief moment. Din noisily huffing into her mouth at the sound.

He sounded frustrated, with Lysa sensing that his brow was deeply furrowed, with a need and intention laced over his expression.

Taking a moment to catch her breath, Lysa moved her hand up to the back of his head, her fingers feeling that his hair was tangled and unkempt, but very soft, as she threaded her fingers through the short curls at the very nape of his neck.

After enjoying exploring him for a long few seconds, Lysa reached up with her other hand, instinctively grasping for his jaw as, unable to stop themselves, their lips met again.

Lysa felt a smattering of facial hair running over his chin and up his angular jaw, feeling such an intense emotion coursing through her. Such longing she had never felt for another as long as she lived.

Despite not even seeing his face, Lysa knew that Din was everything that she could have ever wanted. Although deep down she knew he could have been a Bothan and she still would be feeling this way. Din’s actions leading up to this moment telling her all she needed to know about the brave and kind and funny Mandalorian, that brightened her days and warmed her nights.

Suddenly now Lysa felt Din’s hand travel from her waist and up the length of her spine, rumpling her thin undershirt as he went. With her knowing that he could likely feel that she was wearing nothing underneath. As his hand slid down her back once again, tugging her waist towards him powerfully.

Lysa could have moaned out at this possessive gesture.

It was indeed an odd thing, to have spent so long unable to look upon Din’s face, to now be so close to him. To feel his skin pressed to hers, and his face a mere breath away.

Lysa pulled back from him, pressing a sudden kiss to his cheek, before kissing at his jawline, two then three times.

She wanted him to feel her lips against the skin he constantly kept hidden away from others. Wishing him to know how truly wanted he was.

As she kissed him, she felt Din give a groan, letting his head fall back in utter enjoyment of the sensation.

But he only allowed himself this pleasurable feeling for a small moment…

…his face quickly moving back to hers. His lips catching her own again. His kiss suddenly forceful and wanting.

And at this, Lysa could not help herself, tugging Din down on top of her, as she settled herself back against the pillows behind her.

He moved over her now, with Lysa feeling one of his hands press down against the mattress beside her shoulder, keeping the majority of his weight off her. But his other hand, Lysa felt slide up the outside of her bare thigh, grazing up her skin, hitching up her knee and settling his hips over hers. His erection evident, with his hard length pressing against his pants with intent.

The sensation of him drew a gasp of air from Lysa’s lips. The contact, causing a creamy wetness to pool between her legs. A further step in her arousal flooding her veins.

Their kisses now were meaningful. With both adults knowing now what they wanted. With wet lips parting and meeting again and again. Their wet, delicious noises filled the small sleeper. Growing more and more heated with every second that passed.

And Lysa could only gasp out silently, as Din tugged his lips from hers, pressing kiss after kiss to her neck, and then to her collarbone, before stopping suddenly at the top of her breasts.

Lysa lifted her head a little, feeling him hover before her for a moment, before his hand moved over, grazing the ties at the very top of her blouse.

She knew now that he was almost looking for permission to undress her, with Lysa feeling an intense adoration for the man before her, right at this very moment.

She caught his lips in another kiss, as her fingers fumbled for the ties, helping him to undo them, feeling the covering fall open, revealing her flushed breasts beneath.

It had been a long time since Lysa had experienced such euphoria with another. Basking now in each moment of sexual pleasure Din gave her, no matter how seemingly insignificant.

She felt his thumb ghost over her erect nipple, before his lips met with that exact spot, his hot tongue swirling over it expertly, before his mouth began to inch south once more…

Lysa let her head fall back against the mattress behind her, gasping out at the sensation of Din’s mouth moving down her body. Lips and tongue lazily kissing at her, soothing her burning skin.

It seemed now as though Din was taking his time, enjoying himself, as he kissed lower…

…and lower…

And Lysa could only let out a frown, her mouth dropping open.

“Din-” she murmured breathlessly.

But she was cut off, by the sensation of his tongue suddenly meeting with her core.

She let out a hard moan, feeling all the breath leave her body.

It had been a very, very long time since she had felt such pleasure and it was hard not to collapse over the edge, as his warm tongue began to dance over her.

Did he do this often? Surely she hadn’t been the first person he had removed his helmet for. But Lysa pushed thoughts like these from her mind as she felt him press his flat tongue to her soaked slit and lick oh-so slowly, causing her to moan again, clutching at the sheets beside her with desperate hands.

But Din’s own hands were set on a different course now, wrapping themselves around both Lysa’s thighs, giving her a sudden sharp tug into him, as his tongue deepened its exploration of her soaking wet entrance.

“Oh…kriff, ” she breathed, feeling Din press a chuckle into her core at her words.

Lysa tried to remember now if she had ever cursed that badly in front of Din before, but her thoughts were clouded by the waves of pure pleasure rippling through her entire body.

Din carried on, flicking his tongue over her, kissing open mouthed…

…until finally Lysa collapsed over the edge, arching her back, feeling an earth-shattering orgasm pulse through her.

“...kriff…Din…oh…ohhhh…”

She cried out, her thighs clenching around his head. Feeling Din’s hands on her hips, holding her steady. Ensuring she was fully spent before his lips left her.

Lysa held onto the moment tightly, riding the pleasurable wave for several long seconds until it was over. Her chest rising and falling raggedly, the white blinding light of her orgasm slowly fading back to the darkness that surrounded them.

Kriff.

It took Lysa a long moment to compose herself, feeling Din begin to kiss his way back up her body slowly, and with purpose.

And despite Lysa having been fully satisfied by Din’s tongue, that did not mean she was ready for any of this to be over… still aching for him. His ability to pleasure her, only serving to show her how much she would be missing if she was to stop now.

She could feel his erection pulsing against her soft thigh as he slid up her body. And as he reached her, she kissed him again, tasting herself, sweet, like honey, on his tongue.

His hard body moved over hers, and as her hands met with his broad shoulders, Lysa could feel him trembling beneath her grasp.

She pulled away for the briefest of seconds at this, wishing she could see him now in the darkness. Her green eyes still trying to search for his.

She wondered what colour they were, trying to picture him in his entirety, but knew it would be wrong to ask such a question in a moment like this.

Instead she lifted a hand running her thumb over his bottom lip, before kissing him again.

Din’s gave a hungry groan into her mouth, as he pressed himself into her, his kisses becoming intense, his tongue massaging hers keenly.

Meanwhile Lysa slid her hand down between them quickly. And, reaching Din’s pants, she hurriedly began undoing his buttons, as Din shifted a little. Helping to remove the tough material from his legs, until they were hastily shoved to the floor.

Lysa tore her lips from his, breathing hard, as Din hovered for a moment before repositioning himself over her. Her thighs sliding up around him, his stiff length pulsating against her soft thigh, so close to where she needed him now.

But pressing his hand flat to the mattress beside her head, Din held off a little.

Lysa licked at her lips, moving her hand into the space between them, brushing her fingers over his length.

But all of a sudden Din grabbed her wrist gently, stopping her in her tracks.

“Stop.”

Lysa gave a swallow, at the sound of his voice, so clear to her now without the modulator.

But he sounded concerned.

“Are you sure you want this?” he continued. Lysa could almost hear that he was frowning now.

But Lysa merely kissed him again, her lips pressing against his gently, in a reassuring gesture, before pulling away after a long few seconds.

She lifted her hand to his jaw, her fingers sliding over his stubble-lined cheek.

“I do…” she replied in a soft tone, before feeling suddenly nervous. “...d-do you?”

She worried now that Din had changed his mind, her cheeks immediately flushing pink.

But to her relief, Din spoke again a second later, his voice firm.

“Yes. I want this. More than anything,” he said, his voice filled with an honesty he so so often carried with him.

She heard him swallow hard.

“...but it’s been a long time since I’ve-”

Din suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

Lysa felt a wave of realisation suddenly wash over her. Understanding now what Din was trying to tell her

“I just…I might not last that-”

“It’s ok,” said Lysa quickly, cutting across him.

He didn't have to tell her. To her it was not an issue. All she wanted was for Din to enjoy a pleasure so pure, akin to the one he had just given to her.

“It’s ok, really,” she reiterated, before kissing him again. Both of them instantly deepening that kiss, tongues lapping at one another. Lips meeting and parting in a heated dance as Lysa felt Din grind his hips into hers suddenly.

She gave a moan, feeling his length slide over her aching clit teasingly, gliding through her soaking wet lips.

Immediately Din let out a grunt at the sensation.

Kriff, that felt good.

He pulled back, rutting against her again.

There was no penetration now, but from the sounds being emitted from Din’s lips, Lysa knew he was enjoying the teasing feeling of his erection gliding through the creamy slick of her orgasm so easily.

Though Lysa wasn't faring much better, for the sensation of Din’s hard cock slipping over her clit over and over, was causing that knot to tighten within her lower belly once more.

“Dank farrik, that feels…” Din huffed, but he trailed off, grunting once more, between ragged breaths.

Their pace building.

“Din…”

“Dank farrik…”

Neither of them making any sense with the jumble of illicit sounds being emitted from their mouths.

Din huffed out a hard breath, with Lysa knowing that if they carried on with this teasing, she would no longer be able to hold on.

“Stop, stop…” she breathed out, pressing a hand to Din’s broad chest.

Lysa could feel his heart thudding in his chest. Feel his breathing ragged.

She knew that, like her, Din was barely holding it together.

And that was not how she wanted this to end…

And so, wetting her lips audibly with her tongue, she moved her mouth to his ear, feeling him shudder at the contact of her lips against his earlobe.

And a moment later, Lysa uttered five words, that, although she didn’t realise it, would cause something to snap within Din Djarin. A burning need for her, that he had never felt for anyone as long as he had lived, igniting.

“I need you inside me,” was all that Lysa Kane managed to breathe, before Din’s lips were on hers, his free hand grasping at her upper thigh, his fingers pressing into her flesh lightly as he urged her thighs apart for him.

A moment later she felt that same hand slip down between them. And feeling him take his length within his grasp, she hitched in a breath, as she felt him press the tip of his swollen cock to her soaked entrance.

Lysa immediately gripped at his taught bicep with one hand as her other hand slid up to his neck. As Din’s length, already sodden with her juices, slid into her, filling her up entirely.

Lysa sucked in out a shaky gasp at the sensation, as Din gave a hard groan, huffing a breath into the space between her neck and shoulder, his bicep flexing and trembling beneath her grasp.

They both lay there for a moment, both adjusting to the position and the feel of each other, as Din pressed his lips to Lysa’s neck sucking on her skin. Before pulling back and finding her mouth…warm and welcoming…

…as he drew his hips back and then buried himself deeply in her once more…

Lysa’s mouth dropped open, giving a moan into Din’s mouth at the feeling of him sinking into her, her fingers tugging at his hair…

…which only seemed to spur him on further, feeling him slowly begin to set a pace, pounding his length rhythmically into her soaking entrance again and again and again.

Kriff.

Lysa felt like she was quickly losing control, hitching her leg up over his hip, her fingernails raking over his back greedily, as she kissed at him, moaning as she went.

Din let out a low growl, which seemed to rumble through his broad chest.

Everything around them disappearing. Leaving only Din and Lysa. Almost fused into one.

They pulled back from one another, as though in sync, foreheads pressed together, sweat beading over their bodies, as they moved against one another.

Lysa could hear his grunts and groans, coming quicker and quicker.

With her feeling her own bliss rippling, like a tide edging into the bay.

She moved her hand to Din’s jaw, her thumb running over his bottom lip as she drew his mouth to hers. But they did not kiss.

Merely huffing moans and grunts into each other's mouths, Din’s lips, slick and swollen.

His hips snapped into her several times more, before his thrusts started to become far more harsh.

Lysa felt the spring in her abdomen begin to coil tightly, as her eyes fluttered closed, her fingers slipping down Din’s shoulder, pressing into his flesh letting him know that she was close, without words needing to be spoken.

She let out a moan dropping her head back against the pillows, her spine arching slightly, as above her Din dropped his lips to her throat.

Kriff, she was close…

Kriiiifff…

Din’s pressed a long open-mouthed kiss to a spot just below her jaw, as she felt his thrusts become suddenly sloppy, and uneven, delivering one final snap of his hips which splintered through Lysa like a bolt of lightning.

She cried out hard, fingernails scraping over flesh, her thighs trembling, the walls of her soaked slit convulsing, sending a ripples coursing through her entire body over and over again.

And feeling her clench around his soaked cock, Din gave a sudden drawn-out groan of his own, his arm pressed taught against the mattress becoming suddenly rigid. His head dropping to her shoulder.

“Dank farrik, I-“

But Din found himself rendered mute, crashing into his own pulsating orgasm. Lysa feeling him spill himself inside her, triggered by her own earth-shattering climax.

And like that they stayed, both breathing hard, with Lysa’s thighs and Din’s arms shaking. Both lying there, utterly spent, for a long minute.

Lysa wanted to sink into this moment and never leave. Riding the high of her blissful comedown, feeling Din start to shift against her, his lips finding her neck, pressing a gentle kiss to her burning skin.

She let out a gentle exhale, feeling Din’s heart rate begin to finally steady, his chest still flush to hers. Running her hand slowly up, tangling her fingers in his damp hair, she drew his face to her own.

Despite it being dark, Lysa knew now that he was staring at her. A longing still between them, despite what they had just done.

“I’m glad you came home,” Lysa whispered, her nose grazing against his gently. Ending this just how they had started it.

A second later, she heard Din let out a hard yet satisfied-sounding huff.

“I am too,” he replied, his lips ghosting over hers, before taking her in another kiss.

His lips moved against hers gently, as she reacted in turn, smiling into his mouth.

They broke apart after a long and enjoyable few seconds, as she felt Din separate himself from her, and collapse down onto the mattress at her side, shifting onto his back.

He gave a groan, before reaching out an arm, in the darkness, sliding it around Lysa’s shoulders. And with another contented smile, feeling utterly exhausted, Lysa settled herself against him. Coming to rest her head on Din’s bare shoulder, pressing her free hand to his chest, as Din’s tugged her close.

There was so much she wanted to say but for some reason no words seemed to come…

…as Lysa felt sleep begin to wash over her…

…slipping into a comfortable dreamworld as Din did the same. Both of them wrapped up in one another, basking in the afterglow of their union.

Both happy.

Both content.

Both happy to be back with one another once more.

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Ok so what did you think? I really hope someone out there likes it.

I'm all about the angst and fluff, so writing smut makes me worry I'm totally off my game. So hope that was ok!

@its5-15wakeup @thecraftyartist @crazypaine @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @marysucks-blog @siimiasoi @livinxdeadxgrl @midwesternwitchery @the-divine-taurus @handspunyarns

#the mandalorian #din x oc #pedro pascal #din djarin #din smut #din djarin masterlist #mando #mando fic #din Grogu #Mando smut #star wars

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