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anonymousewrites · 4 months

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Clan of Three Christmas Special 2023

Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mando sighed. “Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

“This is the Way,” said Mando.

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

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

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

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

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

They shrugged. “I feel fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grogu and (Y/N) were both silent.

“Is this alright?” asked Mando.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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moiravim · 1 year

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Found part 2

Dad!Din Djarin x Teen!GN!yn part 2

Summary: Din bonding with his children; Grogu and YN.

it had been just a few days since Din had taken you in. He was quiet at first but slowly started warming up to you.

One of the first things you noticed about him was how protective he was of you. He took you and Grogu's wellbeing very seriously.

You had gotten sick and are currently in 'bed rest'. It was miserable. You were sweating and your head was aching worst than you'd ever felt before.

You could tell Din was stressed by the way he was acting. He wouldn't let you get up and would do everything for you. He was already like this, but now that your sick it's ten times worst.

He babies you but you just want to get back to normal again. You've been bored out of your mind.

Grogu and you had become close friends. Although you were very different, you both shared a father figure. That was the main cause of your sibling-like relationship.

It was also nice being around someone who wasn't an adult. Someone you could play around and get into trouble with.

You room was very small and had a mattress placed in the corner along with a few toys scattered and a basket of clothes. A few hours ago Din had tucked you and Grogu in bed and the two of you were supposed to be sleeping.

But currently you and Grogu were playing catch. Grogu was using the force while you played how you used to see other kids play.

Din walked in to check on you and when he realized you were playing he said; "Hey, stop that. Grogu, you need to save your energy. And YN. your supposed to be sleeping. Go to bed." He says as he takes the ball from you.

You frown and lay back down. "How much longer?" You ask in a miserable voice. He looks down at you and responds; "just a few more days. It'll go by faster if you sleep."

You nod your head and close your eyes. Din grabs your blanket and tucks you in before picking up Grogu and leaving the room.

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moon-sang · 1 year

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ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏɪɴ

Din Djarin x Teen!Reader

SUMMARY: When meeting up with a slaver who had information on where Gideon may have taken Grogu, Din comes across a peculiar little slave.

WARNINGS: Slave!reader, Fem!Reader, Teen!reader, soft!Mando, angst (A LOT), fluff, cuteness!!!, mature language, typical violence, dad!Din, trauma and all the bad things that come with slavery @.@

~ There is ONE 鬼滅の刃 (Demon Slayer) reference in this.

WORDCOUNT: 1.5K

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Big, shiny armour was all you could see as you opened the door.

You silently gasp at how tall your new visitor is, taking a few careful steps back. The strange man in the helmet tilts his head to the side, taking recognition of your much, much smaller form.

After a moment’s silence he nods his head once, before carefully stepping around, in such a gentle manner it has you dumbstruck. If it had been any other one of your master’s friends they would have pushed you into the wall laughing as they stumbled in.

Weird...

“Aaah! Mando!” Exclaims your master. Maker, you could just gag at his sickly voice.

“Dru,” Mando greets.

Your Jablogian master hobbles over to this Mando guy, his thick double chin bobbing up and down as he stumbled across the hall.

“Have you brought the money?” Dru seethes, freckles of saliva spraying from his mouth as he spoke.

The Mando nods his head and places a pouch of what you could only assume were creds, into his rough hand.

“Aaah, very good, very good, now come, let us eat and talk about your little green womprat” He suggests, clapping his hands twice. Your breath hitches momentarily as you rush to your masters side. “Get us something to eat.” He snarls, shoving you into the kitchen.

You stumble in and fall with an oomph. Quickly you force yourself up. Master did NOT like to wait. Grabbing a cutting board and knife you begin slicing a few fruits into small shapes, Just the way master liked it. You slide the fruits off of the wooden cutting board and into a rather big bowl, sprinkling some orange and lemon juice on top of it, for extra flavour. To finish off you pour two glasses of red wine before walking out.

══════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══════════════

You gently place the tray of food and wine on the small table before your master and ‘The Mando’ The Mando quickly thanks you in a timid voice, but does not make a move to grab anything to eat.

Weird...

“Took you long enough!” Dru practically yells, snatching a piece of fruit and shoving it in his mouth.

The Mando menacingly cocks his head to the side, staring at Dru in such confidence it was almost scary.

Dru chuckles nervously and pushes the bowl across the table, encouraging The Mando to take a piece.

He still makes no indication of wanting to have any.

The man in the silver helmet pushes the bowl back to Dru, refusing his tempting offer.

“Thank you for your communication.” The Mando offers, before stepping out of their small booth and making way for the exit.

“Wait!” Dru yells in desperation.

You knew that voice, he was hungry for more of his credits.

“Please, mr. Mandalorian-”

Mr. Mandalorian?

“I will come along with you and save your green son, if you can pay me for my service.” He tries.

“No, thank you.”

Mr. Mandalorian gives you a quick glance from behind him, and stutters in his confident strides to the door. However, with a quick shake of his head, he leaves the mansion.

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“YOU IDIOT!” Screams Dru.

“It’s your fault he didn’t stay!”

You quickly duck as another spice tray is thrown at your head.

“You weren't doing things right! You-you were standing wrong! You....you chose the wrong wine! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!” He screams, slapping you hard enough on the cheek to send you to the stone floor.

You whimper, but allow no tears to pass.

“I’m sorry, master.” You barely say above a whisper.

Dru scoffs incredulously, eyeing you in disgust.

“Sorry won’t cut it. I think it’s time I sold you off to someone else, and get me a more useful slave. What do you think...Y/l/n?”

You’re about to answer when a powerful punch is delivered to your stomach. Once again you crumble to the cool floor, willing the pain everywhere to go away.

Of course..it does not.

A forceful kick is swung and landed to the side of your head, and that was the last grip of reality you had before you mind swam into unconsciousness.

══════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══════════════

“Get.....need....bandages......quickly...”

You could distinctly hear someone speaking, but the sound of your breaths and your heartbeat were too loud to decipher what they were saying. You strained your ears even harder to try and make out some of what the person was saying, wanting to gain some sense of your surroundings.

“I need some bandages, and get some bacta too!”

Hey...that kind of sounds like....The Mando?

You force your eyes open, instantly regretting it as a sharp hot white pain shot through your skull.

You whimper and let your head lull against someones arms.

“Shhh, it’s ok, you’re ok.”

An arm moves across your waist and pulls you a bit to closer to-

wait

was someone holding you?......

Was that the smell of smoke??

Your head was spinning and The Mando must have noticed because his thumbs begin to gently rub at your temples, avoiding the wound left by master-

Where was master Dru?

“Where...master....” You groan.

“He’s gone, you don’t have to worry, ok, just try to open your eyes, take it easy though.”

You do as you’re told and slowly blink your eyes open, this time the pain is dull as you do so.

You’re greeted with a familiar tilt of a silver helmet, and a few unidentified people behind him.

“Good, now keep your eyes open, can you do that?”

You don't respond, only keeping your eyes open for him.

“Good.”

“I’m going to check for a concussion now. I need you to answer my questions as honestly as you can.”

You do nothing in response.

“Ok.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?” He ask, holding up 2 fingers.

You copy his fingers and hold out 2 of your own.

“Ok, good.”

“Do you know your name?” He asks, voice gruff.

You don’t say anything, just staring blankly at the void of his visor.

“Can you tell me your name?” He repeats, giving your bruised arm a gentle squeeze.

Din watches the slave with intent.

He was starting to believe she really did have a concussion, until she reached for her pocket.

She fished out a small coin and positioned it in between her index finger and thumb, then she tossed it in the air and caught it with direct precision.

Tails...it landed on tails.

“I’m Y/n.” She admits.

Maker it felt so long since she had said that name to anyone.

══════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══════════════

5 days later...

“Is she still using that coin?” Cara asks, as Y/n played in the fields with Grogu.

“Yes.” Din admits, head hung low.

“That is so strange.” The ex-shock trooper chuckles.

“What do you think it means?” She questions.

“I have no idea, she uses it at least three or four times a rotation.”

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Fennec says with a smirk.

“Y/n! c’mere.” The assassin calls.

Cara and Din exchange glances of confusion, but nonetheless play along.

“So..” She starts.

“Tonight, I am going out to eat dinner, because Boba is a horrible cook. I’m thinking of wearing normal attire, but there’s this really pretty dress. Which do you think I should go with?” She asks, a gentle smile playing on her mouth.

Same as always, Y/n pulls out her small coin and tosses it in the air.

She catches it and flips it onto her palm.

Heads.

“The pretty dress.” She murmurs.

Fennec smiles once more. “Thank you, you can go now.” She whispers. And off she went, back into the meadows.

“The coin is her decision maker.” Cara gasps.

“Obviously.” Fennec scoffs.

“She was a slave...she doesn’t know how to make decisions for herself.” Din ponders, putting the puzzle together.

══════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══════════════

Later that day...

“Y/n.. Can I talk to you, please.” Din asks, gently, as not to startle her.

She brings her lucky coin to her hands and flicks it up, however, Din catches it in midair.

“Let’s make a bet.” He offers, leaving no room for the teenager to say otherwise.

“If the coin lands on heads, you make your own decisions from now on, and have the freedom to act as you feel is right. And you throw the coin into the nearest ocean as far as you can.”

Din could see the internal struggle through her eyes, the desperation of her wanting to grab the coin out of his hand and hide away from the rest of the cruel world.

“Hey, it’s ok, I’m going to help you, adi’ka.”

“D-Do I really h-h-have to throw i-it in the o-cean? I-it’s the only thing I-I-I-I have left of my f-f-amily.” She stutters as tears well in her eyes for the first time Din had ever seen.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no, adi’ka [little one], don’t cry, no i’kaad [baby], you can keep it...we’ll just...put it in a locked cupboard and whenever you want to hold it, you can, ok?” He whispers, holding her in a gentle embrace.

“Ok.” She sniffles.

And although hard at first, she learnt she had a choice, because her buir never gave up on her.

#Din Djarin x reader #Din x reader #Mando x reader #The Mandalorian x reader #Din Djarin x teen!reader #Slave reader #Din Djarin x you #Mando x you #Mando angst #Dad!Din #Dad!Mando #Dadalorian #Dad!Din x reader

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sofiaaaaaaaa03 · 1 year

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Rotation of the Sun

Title: Rotation of the Sun

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn foundling reader (Platonic)

World Count: 1,459

Rating: PG

Note: HI I AM RUSTY BC I HAVEN'T WRITTEN IN AWHILE. This is for new years! But I had this idea and wanted to roll with it. Pretend that fireworks don't exist in star wars bc I forgot to check if they're canon or not lol. Anyway, enjoy and happy late new years!!!

"Grogu, no. Put that down.”

Grogu quickly swerved his body so that his back faced you, disgruntled at your words. You heaved a low sigh at the little thing as you kept a watchful eye at the… thing he was holding. You didn’t really know what it was exactly, but it reminded you of the snow mice that’d sneak into the Razor Crest every time Din had a job to tend to in Scipio.

You leaned over, trying to grab the little creature from Grogu. “C’mon, give it up Grogu.”

Again, you reached for the creature, but Grogu’s exclamations of dejection made you gasp at his demeanor. “I hope you’re just holding it hostage for fun because there is no way you’re able to fit that thing into your mouth.”

As you spoke, you settled yourself onto the open ramp of the Razor Crest, lifting your knees closer to your body and resting your arms onto them. Grogu stood outside of the ship, exposed to the nature surrounding them. The group had found themselves on a planet almost at the edge of the galaxy. A trip that was made by very few people. You were surprised to find out that that was where the clan was headed, considering the trip. Din claimed that the price of the bounty he was pursuing would make the trip worth it.

When he explained this, along the way when it was just the two of you in the hull of the Razor Crest as Grogu slept in the back, you made a comment that he’d sounded as though he’d been to the planet before. To which he nodded, pressing a few buttons on the dashboard before turning his back to you. You watched him as he worked on reconfiguring the navigation system.

He spoke knowing that you were waiting for him to elaborate. “I’d been once before for a job. But it was many years ago.”

“What’s it like?”

Din’s back still faced yours. “The planet is prosperous with many species, but its civilization is not very advanced like the rest of the galaxy. Most of them haven’t even gone off world.”

“Really?” To which Din hums at. You pause for a moment to ponder your next question. “What’s it look like?”

“Where we are going, it will look a lot like Endor.” Finally, Din turned back to the controls and the conversation was left at that.

And there you were at this moment, sitting at the ramp of the ship watching Grogu under the shades from the trees that surrounded you. While the two were waiting for Din to return with his bounty, you explored and enjoyed the open space that Din landed in. The lush, forest thrived with more green and species than you’d thought possible. Though Grogu much preferred to try and eat them, rather than observe like you liked to. But you couldn’t help but gawk at them. What piqued your curiosity was the species you’d seen, unrecognizable and yet shared homogenic qualities with creatures you’d seen in different planets. How was it that these creatures never explored space, and yet you could only be reminded of creatures you’d seen in other places? Not only that, but were there other environmental conditions on this planet since Din made it sound as though there were others?

Din had no answer for you when he’d finally returned with his bounty, many hours after he’d left. He must have not expected for you to be filled with these questions of the creatures, or the forests, or the planet itself as you prodded him with questions about other habitats this planet had. Din stumbled as he climbed onto the ship and adjusted his hold on the unconscious bounty he was carrying in a fireman’s lift. All the while a string of questions came from your mouth as you bombarded the Mandalorian with questions and comments about the planet’s environment.

THUNK

“That’s enough questions y/n.” Beside Din’s feet the unconscious bounty groaned at the impact. “I have a lot to do before we depart.”

“Sorry.” You spoke with a sheepish smile on your face. Din made no other comment but shook his head in a way that let you know he was not upset with you before collecting the bounty once more. You watched him disappear further into the ship. No doubt to place the bounty in a Carbon freezing chamber in the lower levels of the Crest.

It was late at night, you’d only now realized as you settled back onto the ramp of the crest and watched the scenery around. You made sure to keep watch of Grogu as he ventured around. But he was without the mouse. Which concerned you. But what else was there to do other than hope the best for the little devil if he ended up getting a stomach ache.

Well… you could also enjoy what was around you.

So you decided to sit at the ramp for some time, eyes closed and listening to the world around you. You felt at ease, allowing your muscles to relax with each breath you took. Eventually Grogu had had enough of exploring and settled into your arms to rest.

You sat there for some time. Until you heard a noise. Opening your eyes, you paused for a moment to listen again with a frown on your lips. You could make out what sounded like a missile blasting to the sky. Your heart dropped at the sound, standing up immediately and looking all around to see where the noise came from. The noise stopped and a loud boom made you jolt, eyes immediately to the sky at a blast of light illuminating the surrounding area. You watched in agitation as the light dispersed and thousands of shards of light fell from it.

Your first thought as you watched this scene was of a battle. And these fears were reestablished at the sound of another missile.

“Din!” You stumbled back, eyes glued to another blast of light whose noise made your ears ring. You quickly turned, ready to run for the Mandalorian, and almost crashed into his beskar breast plate. The Mandalorian gripped onto your forearms to stabilize you. Din showed no sign of fear toward the blasts. For a moment you wondered if he had bumped his head to make him not respond correctly.

Din must have seen the alarm written all over your face as you looked up at him, desperate to see what they would do. Grogu stirring in your arms and when he reached out for Din the mandalorian slowly took the little thing from your arms.

“It’s alright. We’re not under attack.” With one arm Din led y/n down the ramp. Although you obliged, you walked with hesitance in each step. “Those lights aren’t weapons.”

“What else could they be if they’re not weapons?” You inquired, stepping over branches as the trees grew less condensed.

Din said nothing to this, walking further until finally the two came to a clearing that overlooked a good section of the forest. He placed a hand to your back and pushed you a little further ahead of him, informing you that you look ahead. You obliged, attentive to the cluster of lights that sat past the forest. Another blast of light exploded above the lights and you realized that you stared at a city from a distance.

“Those lights are called fireworks,” Din said, earning your attention. “Humans use them for celebrating events that are special to them.”

BANG.

A firework.

“All of them?”

“Not sure, but I’m sure a lot of them are. Grogu look.” Din pointed Grogu’s attention to another firework that flew into the sky until it bursted to an array of green shimmers. The two smiled at the little thing’s reaction as he elated with joy.

“So how about now? Do you know what they’re celebrating?”

“I don’t know for sure, something to do with the planet’s rotation around the sun.”

BANG.

Another firework shot to the sky.

“That’s such a nice thing to celebrate.”

You watched with fascination, all doubt and anxieties melted away after the explanation Din had given you. You watched beside the Mandalorian and his other foundling, illuminated in an array of colors as light blasted into the night sky. You liked that the cycle of the planet was worth celebrating to the people who lived here. In all your life, it seemed so mundane. Another year of surviving. To them, it seemed otherwise. It was something that brought joy. A joy that worked into the sky in a blast of light.

The Mandalorian and his foundlings watched the lights from their place in the world.

“I like this planet.”

#the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #star wars reader insert #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction #gn reader #din djarin x teen!reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin imagine #teen reader

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rainbowsprinkledpirate · 1 year

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To The Sound of Beskar

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Older!Male!Reader

Summary: When dropping off your latest bounty, you have the vague feeling that you will see the Mythrol, Mirialan, and Zygerrian again someday. Until you end up with more pressing matters to worry about. Like how Greef Karga immediately sends you after a new bounty when you step foot in the bounty hunter guild's cantina.

AN: If you can't tell, I suck at writing fight scenes, and The Mandalorian series contains a lot. So, here's to a long ride and lots of research on my end on how to write it! 😃👍

Chapter II: Strengthen Those Beside You

It was easy to get lost in thought when traveling through space.

The swirl of color drew you into a sense of peace unlike anything else you've ever experienced, allowing you to let go for a moment. You got lost in thought more often than you'd like to admit when flying.

Currently, you were thinking about the training Din had gone through.

Was he able to learn everything you had?

When Concordia was attacked, you were both still very young. From what you recall, you were still going through training even then. And you were able to be on your own a few weeks after the tribe had settled on Nevarro.

The younger kids, like Din and Paz, had their training pushed back. Yet you doubt the older Mandalorians let them skip for long.

Din had to have finished his training, or the other Mandalorians wouldn't let him keep sneaking away to join you on dangerous bounty-hunting missions without speaking with you about it.

Right?

"...ey. Hey, are you alright?" A hand shaking your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts. Din doesn't let go even when you crane your neck to look up at him.

You examine him, feeling a stupid smile crawl across your lips before noticing the beep from the navigator in front of you two. Damn, you had to start doing something to avoid wasting fuel by zoning out between jumps.

Pressing the right buttons to exit hyperspeed, you manually take over to fly back to Nevarro.

"Yeah, I was just lost in thought." You mutter before tightening your grip on the Crest's steering wheel. Din's fingers squeeze your shoulder before he lets go.

"You should just let me fly. I don't think you've been getting enough sleep lately."

He was one to talk.

Wait.

Was it just you, or did Din sound oddly grown up suddenly?

Ting.

Din chuckles after the bolt bounces off the top of your helmet. You turn to glare silently after him as he exits the cockpit.

He lazily tosses over his shoulder before completely disappearing from sight, "I think I'm a better flyer anyways."

No, he hasn't grown up at all. That womp rat.

Sighing heavily, you fly the Crest to an open space close to the city. You maneuver it between a freighter and a quadjumper. Checking that there was enough space for Greef's guys to get the quarries out.

Stepping out of the cockpit after powering down the Crest, you head down the ladder leading into the belly of the ship.

Din waits for you by the open ramp. From your place by the ladder, you watch how his lazy demeanor shifts back to that of the cold Mandalorian. Shoulders squared and back straight.

You can't stop the ache stinging your heart as you stride past him.

If you could choose for him to have a different life, you would. One where he was still on Aq Vetina learning whatever from his parents. One where he didn't have to put up a shield between himself and everyone else.

"Hey! Watch it, Mando." The words are spat at you like poison when you accidentally bump into a rough-looking Trandoshan. You say nothing and stare him down from behind your helmet until he sidesteps you with a sneer and continues on his way.

This was the life Din was born into. One where he had to learn from the world around him. One where he was safe behind the mask because it protected him from those who wished him harm.

This wasn't a life you would willingly choose for anyone. But it gave some a second chance.

You make your way through the bustle of the city, and the crowd parts around you. Din follows behind silently as you head to the bounty hunter's guild.

When your shadow darkens the guild's entrance, Greef Karga rises from his table further in the cantina.

"Mando! Glad to see you back. Good job on those last bounties." Karga tilts his glass at you with a smile. "Come, come! I believe I have something that will help secure your spot in the guild." He beckons you over.

You ignore the glares and whispers rising from the other bounty hunters as you and Din move to sit in front of Karga. Said man completely ignores them and focuses solely on you.

He jovially states with a flourish of a bounty puck, "This bounty is one of the most important ones I have gotten as of late. But I trust you can handle it, Mando."

He slides the puck your way, humming, "You're headed to Gamorr. This particular bounty is a slaver wanted in many parsecs. Goes by the name Bhoa Myoduza. She should be easy to find, considering she's likely the only Rodian on Gamorr."

You snag the puck before standing up.

Staring down at Karga, you question him with vauge curiosity, "Any idea which part of the planet she's on?"

"That planet is ravaged by war. Surely there is one quiet place that would stand out." Din speaks up after Karga shakes his head at your question. For a moment, his looks as if he's about to shake his head again when his face lights up.

"Now that you mention it, I believe there is one place you could check first. Ah, but it requires one of the locals to take you there."

Din sighs beside you before standing to follow you.

That wasn't going to be easy.

The Gamorreans were too focused on fighting each other to worry about helping a Mandalorian looking for a bounty. But it wasn't like you needed their help. You would figure it out yourself. With Din, things would be easier. Strengthen those beside you. That's what Din was good at. And you were glad he was born into this life with you.

Next Chapter -> tbd

Here <- Previous Chapter

Star Wars Masterlist

#teen din #teen din is a dick and you can't tell me otherwise #din djarin #mando x you #mando x male reader #x male reader #din x you #din djarin x you #din djarin/reader #the mandalorian x male reader #male reader #x reader #the mandalorian #mando fanfiction #star wars #star wars fanfiction #criticism welcome #tw violence

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ayowhatnah · 1 year

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#x male reader #finnick odair x male reader #the outsiders x male reader #the mandalorian x male reader #Jonathan Byers x male reader #stranger things X male reader #aib X male reader #star wars X male reader #Cassian andor X male reader #the black phone X male reader #teen Titans dc x male reader #tod jason X male reader

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book-place · 1 year

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Send some mandalorian requests!!

#book place rambles #platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #teen reader #star wars x reader platonic #star wars x reader #din dijarin x reader #din djarin x reader platonic #mandalorian x reader

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thefrogdalorian · 1 month

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Ner Aliit

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Summary: Travelling through the galaxy in the Razor Crest with a formidable Mandalorian is a harsh, unforgiving life. The feelings you have developed for him as you soar through the stars together have mitigated the unpleasant aspects. Still, you know it can't last. After all, you and Din are from different worlds. He follows a strict Creed and you know that you do not have what it takes to be Mandalorian.

Journeying with the best bounty hunter in the parsec has often brought you face to face with danger. It has never fazed you before. Until one day you come face to face with danger without Din's reassuring presence at your side, and everything changes.

Word Count: 5.4k ✯ Rating: Teen ✯ Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, reader kills someone with a blaster in self defence (Nothing is described in graphic detail) and subsequently deals with anxiety/panic attacks. ✯ Author's Note: Today is four years since I watched Mando for the first time so I wrote this to celebrate! Inspired by a little daydream I had while looking at my own Mythosaur necklace. It's an AU where Din never had Grogu but still had shiny beskar, allow it ahah. Really hope you enjoyed it, thanks for reading! 🤍

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

You can already tell from how Din’s footsteps thud a little heavier than usual against the ramp that something has angered him during his latest hunt. Perhaps he will share what precisely has troubled him later when you hurtle through hyperspace towards Nevarro. For now, you head towards the door, ready to help Din haul his latest bounty into the antiquated ship you call home.

Except, the man who stands before you is not Din Djarin.

Instead of the gleaming beskar you had been expecting to greet you on the ramp, a gloomy silhouette moves into view. There is something far darker about your presence than the man you had expected to see. It is not just the grimy, worn clothes he wears that send a shiver down your spine. Nor the way his beady eyes bore into you. They are sunken in his wizened face with a look of pure malice which sickens you to the pit of your stomach.

You are initially so shocked by the fact that the man standing before you is not Din, your eyes frantically examining the features of this stranger, that you almost fail to notice the weapon aimed at you.

Your heart skips a beat when you notice that the man is holding a blaster up at you. He stands unmoving, with his long, grungy fingers curled around the dark handle. The gesture sends a shiver down your spine. However, there is something even more terrifying than the reality of having a blaster aimed squarely in your direction.

It is the expression on his face.

His glare is unrelenting in his coldness as his finger hovers over the trigger. You do not doubt for one moment that he will pull it.

Throughout your life, you have been exposed to danger many times, even before you met Din. Such brushes with death only increased when you started travelling through the galaxy with a bounty hunter. It was to be expected, of course. You think of the numerous occasions when you witnessed Din becoming embroiled in terrible binds and scrapes while you sat back and watched the carnage unfold. At first, you had been terrified by such violence. Now, you have come to expect it.

Perhaps before you met Din and began travelling with him, someone holding a blaster at you and gazing at you with such viciousness as the man before you would have been utterly petrifying.

However, it seems that the best bounty hunter in the parsec has somewhat hardened you to the realities of the galaxy.

After the initial shock, you feel yourself accepting your current predicament with remarkable quickness. You assess the man's vulnerabilities and weak points, as Din once trained you to do. You notice a slight quake in his hand, the greyness of his scraggly beard and unkempt, greasy hair. He is not invincible. Soon, the terror you initially felt is replaced with anger; a simmering feeling in your gut as you are incredulous at the audacity of this man to threaten your life in this manner. You are furious at his attempt to intrude into your and Din's safe refuge like this. You are disgusted by him.

You have encountered plenty of unsavoury characters throughout your travels across the galaxy with Din. This pathetic coward does not faze you.

"Where is he?" the man finally speaks. His voice is gruff, his tone sharper than you imagined. It matches his wizened, wrinkly face, seemingly hardened by the decades of experience he undoubtedly possesses.

“Who?” you ask, feigning ignorance.

You know that the man will not buy your plea of ignorance regarding The Mandalorian. Yet, your act will buy you a few precious seconds to execute your plan. Plus, the more you converse with the man, the higher the chance his nerve may waver and that his sympathy for you might increase as you humanise yourself. You hope that by talking to him, his determination to mow you down in cold blood may decrease.

“Don’t play with me and give me a story full of bantha crap,” the man snarls, jabbing the blaster towards you, "I know you know where he is."

“I’m sorry,” you respond apologetically.

You know you must diffuse the situation and undo the damage you have caused with your blatant lies. Without hesitation, you raise your hands in a submissive gesture. Then, when the man does not take issue with a simple movement, you begin backing away from him. Fortunately, he lets you go. You can barely contain your grin as you know what you have in store for him.

Unknowingly, this man is playing right into your hands.

This old rogue may have thought he could get the upper hand on The Mandalorian by returning to his ship and threatening his travelling companion. Unfortunately, he has underestimated the advantage you gain from knowing the Razor Crest inside out, including all of this old ship's quirks.

When you are satisfied both by the distance you have placed between you and your assailant and your relative proximity to the control panel, which is the key to your plan's success, you fake a stumble backwards. Your hand collides with the button that, when depressed, rapidly releases a cloud of pressurised gas into the hull. The jets that shoot out of the walls soon fill the Razor Crest and form a temporary barrier between you and the man that obscures you from his view. The distraction gives you just enough time to grab a blaster from Din’s workbench and aim it towards your surprise visitor.

Then, without really consciously thinking about the consequences, you squeeze the trigger.

The sickening thud of the man’s body hitting the floor is the last sound you hear before you retreat up the ladder to the cockpit and seal yourself inside behind the secure door. You are pretty sure he will no longer prove a threat to you, but you have no desire to stick around and find out for definite. The reinforced door will provide sufficient protection, hopefully long enough for Din to return.

Given that someone managed to reach the Razor Crest and callously threaten your life, you cannot imagine that Din will be far away. If the man has accomplices, you do not doubt Din's capability to take them out before he returns to ensure your safety.

Yet, as the minutes pass by Din is nowhere to be seen.

You are unsure how long you sit on the hard floor with your back to the door, trembling as you sit there. At first, the tremors that have overtaken your body may well be thanks to the frigid metal. Its coolness certainly does not help. As the adrenaline wears off and the realisation of what has just transpired dawns on you, you rapidly become reduced to a jittery, trembling wreck.

Your state of mind following the skirmish is made worse by the paranoia which overtakes you.

Initially your primary concern is for your own safety. You brace yourself for the companions of the man whose body lies below you to barge in and finish the job their ringleader started. You wonder which weapons they may possess.

Would you try to fight them off, or should you flee?

You wonder whether you could even begin the launch sequence of the Razor Crest and fly away in search of Din. He has attempted to teach you how to fly the ship for emergencies such as this, but to your presently terrified brain, the dashboard looks like a confusing conundrum of buttons.

At the first thought of him wandering through the forests which cover the planet’s surface, your overactive imagination now runs away with the worst scenarios of what could be happening right this instant, elsewhere on this planet.

Visions of the Mandalorian you love, lying in a ditch somewhere on this forest-covered planet, injured and frightened after being ambushed by the same band of dastardly scoundrels overwhelm your senses.

The fear that Din will never return to you, that the depth of your feelings towards him will remain unsaid forever, shatters you.

You are unsure how long you sit there. Each creak and noise of the ship, noises that you are usually so familiar with and accustomed to now work against you, startling you each time. It is a constant cycle of alarm as your breathing rate picks up and your pulse rate thunders in your ears each time there is a faint thud. You feel your resolve draining with each disturbance.

So when you hear the sound of the Razor Crest's ramp whirring as it lowers to the ground, you barely have the energy to react. Instead, you are relieved that you are now seconds away from meeting your ultimate fate. One way or another, you will finally be put out of your misery. Whoever enters the Razor Crest will not be met with much fight from you, whatever their intentions.

When you hear footsteps this time, you believe that the thuds are indeed the familiar rhythmic, certain sounds of your favourite bounty hunter. Until you lay eyes upon him, however, you will not allow yourself to believe that fact.

Fortunately for your anguished soul, you get confirmation of Din’s return before ever laying eyes upon him.

“Cyare?” Din calls, his deep voice cuts through the ship up to the cockpit where you continue to cower in the cockpit, “Are you alright?”

You are so relieved to hear him that you could almost burst into tears. Before that happens, you must give him some acknowledgement that you were unharmed in the skirmish.

“I’m up here in the cockpit, Din,” you respond, alarmed at how your voice trembles as the adrenaline has worn off, “I’m alright.”

You push yourself up on shaky limbs to stand and prepare to reunite with the man you have grown so close to. You aren't entirely sure when it happened, falling in love with Din. You certainly never intended it, nor did you imagine that the aloof bounty hunter who was so stoic and barely spoke could reveal himself to have such a beautiful soul beneath his cold, metallic armour. Yet, somewhere along the way, as you hurtled through hyperspace together, you did fall in love with Din.

It was not one moment but rather a collection of smaller fragments which, when pieced together, form the warmth that spreads in your chest each time you think of Din. It has been the late-night conversations sitting in the red leather chairs of the cockpit, reminiscing on your past lives. The ability that Din possesses in never failing to make you laugh. Even on days when you feel despondent. It is how considerate Din is of you; he never fails to check on your well-being and ascertain whether you can handle one more job or whether you should return to Nevarro for a few days of rest.

All of those moments and more contributed to your present feelings for Din.

You realised how deeply you cared for him when you first noticed your overwhelming desire to please him. The fact that, without even realising it, you had learnt how he liked his ration packs prepared even if you could never enjoy a meal together, given the helmet restriction. You realised that you had attentively watched how Din polished his weapons and studied how he stored them so that you could alleviate some stress when he returned from another hunt and needed to rest. You have noticed that, even though your lives are in many ways different, you both retain the same core values and principles. Honesty, integrity and loyalty are traits you both hold dear.

Only moments ago, it had crushed you to think you would never get to enjoy such moments with Din again.

Now, you stand here, practically bursting with joy as you realise you will soon be back with the man whose presence you yearn to always be in. You can hear his feet hitting the rungs of the ladder that leads up to the cockpit and take a deep breath to steady yourself, even though your entire body quivers with the last dregs of adrenaline and the anticipation of seeing Din again.

The door opens. The familiar glint of the Beskar you had been expecting to see earlier finally comes into view, soothing your nerves instantly. Din surges towards you. You barely have time to react before his arms are around you. He brings a gloved hand up to your chin, holding your face in one hand while he secures his other arm snugly around your waist. You are grateful that he is holding you so tightly. Without his strong arms, you are unconvinced whether you could remain vertical.

“Oh, cyare," Din exhales, his voice trembling under the weight of his emotions. "I was so worried when I saw the body down there. What in Maker’s name happened here?” Din asks, deep voice full of concern.

“I heard footsteps that I assumed were yours, but when I got there, the door opened. You weren't there, Din. I was so scared," you confess, your voice trembling too.

"Dank farrik!" Din harshly exclaims. You startle in response, and he tightens his hold around you, bringing your chest flush to the cold metal of his armour, before apologetically adding, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay, Din," you whisper in reassurance.

"Forgive me for my outburst. I was just frustrated that I couldn't be there for you. The same group, I assume, ambushed me. It took me a while to fight them off. I should have been here," Din shakes his head, "Anyway, do you want to tell me about what happened?"

You nod, your bottom lip trembling. You take some breaths to steady your nerves as you try your best to ignore your reflection in Din's helmet. If you pause for too long and perceive how fragile and broken you appear, you know you will crumble entirely.

"Well, I stepped up to the top of the ramp expecting to see you. Instead, that man was standing there. He held a blaster up at me. I was so scared that he was going to shoot," you squeak, voice barely above a whisper now. Din moves his hands up and down your back in soothing motions, comforting you enough to continue: "I managed to distract him enough to retreat with my hands up. Then I pretended to stumble and push the button on the control panel, which discharged the pressurised gas. It gave me the cover to grab your blaster on the workbench. And then, well, you saw...” you squeak out as you feel hot tears trail down your cheeks.

You permit yourself to fall apart now, knowing that Din is here to pick your pieces up and place you back together. He brings a hand to your cheek, wiping your tears away with his gloved fingers. A smile ghosts across your lips at the sensation of the buttery texture against your skin.

“You did so well, cyare,” Din whispers. "I promise you, you're safe now. No one will hurt you," he adds soothingly.

Din brings your head into his cowl. He gathers you to him and protects you from the anguish. From this position, you can faintly feel the warmth which emanates from the man beneath the beskar through the coarse yet soft material. The dark brown material is a sharp contrast to the hard, coldness of his armour, a sliver of humanity amongst the many facets of the formidable Mandalorian warrior. You never feel safer or more protected than when Din takes you into his arms and holds you close. The relief is immediate, but it does not stop the emotional outburst. Tears continue to stream down your face.

“I was so scared Din,” you manage out between the sobs that have suddenly overwhelmed your fragile state of mind.

“I know, I know. But I’m so proud of you,” Din says.

His ordinarily steady voice trembles with emotion except when he emphasises how proud he is of you. To know that Din Djarin himself is proud of you makes your chest ache with joy. You have made this strong, stoic warrior proud. It makes your head swim with glee. Yet, it only adds to the myriad of emotions which overwhelm your trembling body.

Din holds you close, but you cannot stop crying. The embarrassment you feel at your outburst further contributes to your distress. The tears flow in earnest now, Din’s cowl surely becoming damp with the moisture that has escaped your swollen, irritated eyes.

“Shhhhh my love, ner kar'ta,” Din soothes as he rocks you, “You’re safe now. I've got you. You’re safe.”

With his comforting words and the way Din holds you, your sniffles eventually subside. Still, Din holds you until you can barely stand anymore.

When you can stand no longer, when your body finally succumbs to the emotional toll of the day, Din is there to coax you into moving. Somehow,

Din manages to skillfully manoeuvre you into descending the ladder. You are too tired to question quite how it happens. The next thing you know, you are tucked up in the bunk. There is barely enough room for Din, yet he manages to lie beside you, holding you until you drift off.

Finally, you allow yourself to fall into the warm embrace of sleep…

✯✯✯

You remain confined to your bunk for most of the return trip to Nevarro. The skirmish took its toll on you. In your lethargicness, you struggle to have the energy to do anything other than sleep. Din is patient and attentive with you, taking care of all the maintenance jobs and meal preparation that you usually assist with.

Yet, it is not just the stress of events and the inescapable fact that you have claimed your first life which weighs on your mind. It is trying to figure out what the future looks like for you and Din.

You have never met anyone like him. He is intelligent, caring and skilled in anything he turns his hand to. He provides for you. Since you began travelling together, you have wanted for nothing physically or spiritually. Din is diligent and attentive, always on hand to pick you up if things prove too much. He makes you laugh like you never have with anyone else you have met. Until your ribs ache and your cheeks hurt from grinning. You think of the hours spent together sitting in the red chairs of the cockpit as the blues and silvers of hyperspace streak outside the windows, illuminating Din's armour in a way that leaves you mesmerised.

When you first started travelling with Din, you were sceptical that you would ever grow close to a man who kept so much of himself a mystery. His face was hidden behind a helmet and you knew him only as Mando. How could you ever form a bond with someone so elusive?

Now, you understand that you do not need to see a person's face to know them entirely. There is no doubt that you completely understand who the man underneath the beskar is. You trust Din Djarin with everything you have.

Although it took him long enough to honour you with knowing that name, now you speak it often. While he vows that he will know yours eternally, for it is the Mandalorian way to say, “I love you.”

You cannot imagine your life without him.

However, as much as you care for Din and are certain he cares for you in return, you know you will never have what it takes to become Mandalorian. It is why you have held back from your feelings, never permitting yourself to return the sweet words and affectionate nicknames. Your destinies lie in opposite directions. You will never be truly worthy of his love.

It is a thought that leaves you thoroughly despondent as you lie in the bunk. If you are this distressed after taking a life in self-defence, how would you ever be able to participate in his culture, his identity, which is so dear to him?

Without that fighting spirit within you, you are sure you would never be able to be Mandalorian. Without being Mandalorian, it will be impossible for Din to build a life with you.

Whatever relationship the two of you have is more than likely fleeting. You will part when it becomes apparent that you are too fundamentally different to prove a compatible pairing. You know that.

Yet, it does not stop the melancholia that such a fact provokes in you.

You understand that one day, Din Djarin will leave your life.

Knowing that evidence of your fundamentally opposing ways of life will become evident once more shortly leaves you inconsolable. Once the Razor Crest lands in Nevarro so the bounties can be offloaded Din will leave you alone for an indeterminate amount of time to be with his covert.

Since you are not Mandalorian, you are forbidden from joining him.

The thought of not being with him devastates you. Yet, the prospect of being alone on a planet without Din downright terrifies you after your brush with death.

Although you are frightened, you are determined not to let him see your discomfort.

After all, it would be unfair of you to hold Din back from spending time with his tribe.

You know you will never be able to join him, yet you still respect Din's creed. You admire his devotion to his Way. You do not judge him for it, even if you are baffled by some rules Din must adhere to.

Yet, there is another reason you keep your emotions to yourself.

You do not want to worry Din any further.

Following your brush with death, Din has been fussing over you so much that you almost feel smothered. He is watching you intently to check that the fact you have taken another’s life does not leave a scar on you. He constantly reassures you that it was self-defence and that you did the right thing. When you wake up screaming after terrible visions haunt you, Din is there in an instant to soothe your anguished soul.

Even though you are grateful for how much he cares, you want to be left alone. You feel guilty, as though you are a burden to him. Here you are, taking up so much of his precious time and energy when you are not even a member of his tribe.

So, when Din informs you he will depart the Razor Crest to join up with his covert after the old ship finally touches down on Nevarro, you are glad to see him go.

Even if being on such a skughole makes you unsettled. You wish that you had Din’s comforting presence around to soothe your soul. But non-Mandalorians are not permitted to enter the covert’s hideout, and you respect that rule.

So, you are alone.

You pass the time polishing and reordering Din's assortment of weapons so they are exactly how he likes him upon his return. It is penance for the tremendous amount of extra effort he exerted in taking care of you during your journey here.

After you finish cleaning Din's most prized possessions, you stand before the weapons locker, adjusting each blaster and rifle until they are arrow straight. Din is fastidious when it comes to organising his armoury. You want to please him.

It is a task that you are still engaged in when you hear the ramp whirring. The noise makes you panic initially. Until, for your benefit, Din calls your name to reassure you that it is him returning; no one is here to harm you.

Your initial anxiety is soothed instantly by the sound of his deep voice. The apprehension is replaced by a smile at the way the syllables of your name warble through his vocoder.

You hastily close the doors to the locker. You weren't quite finished with your task yet. You do not want Din to catch a glimpse before everything is perfect.

"You're back quicker than I expected," you observe, greeting him with a look of surprise across your features.

"There was only one matter I wished to settle," Din shrugs.

"Oh?" you raise your eyebrows, wondering if it is connected to the drawstring pouch made of dark material he carries in one hand.

"Concerning you," Din simply says.

You are rendered speechless. Your initial concern is that Din has confessed to travelling with a non-Mandalorian. Perhaps it is forbidden for his tribe to befriend outsiders. Your stomach drops as you panic that Din has been forced to leave his covert in disgrace.

What if, after the skirmish, Din decided to leave you behind here on Nevarro and simply needed to ask his tribe's leader for advice so his nerves did not waver?

Your frantic train of thought halts at the thuds of Din's footsteps approaching you. Mercifully, it seems you are about to discover the nature of their conversation.

"I have something for you," Din explains as he reaches into the drawstring pouch and produces a shiny object attached to a string.

You are curious about the mysterious relic before you. You do not hesitate to reach your hand out, your palm up, ready to accept it. It glints in mid-air before Din places it into your palm.

The sensation of the cool metal of the mysterious object

proves to be an intriguing yet comforting presence in your hand. It soothes you instantly. It is a grounding sensation you badly need. Especially after the dark places your mind has wandered to. Terrible visions and eventualities your imagination has frequented a lot recently since your brush with death.

You realise now that it is in your hand that Din has brought you a necklace. Peculiar. You wonder what in the galaxy an item of jewellery could have to do with his covert.

The metallic pendant is a shape you do not recognise; there is a long, thin strand of dark brown leather attached to the charm.

“Do you know what this is?” Din finally asks after he has left you alone to survey your gift.

You shake your head, looking up at him questioningly.

“This is the Mythosaur, an ancient creature our ancestors once rode. It is a symbol that belongs to all Mandalorians,” Din explains, gesturing a gloved fingertip at the shiny object.

You see now that the metallic outline appears to be the skull of a creature you have never heard before. With its sunken black eye sockets and intimidating, sharp features; the Mythosaur is a little intimidating. Still, you are mesmerised by its pointy teeth and long tusks. It is quite unlike anything you have ever seen. You run your thumb over the ridges, enjoying the sensation of the metal in your hand.

"I had it forged by my tribe's Armorer from the excess beskar of my new armour," Din explains, "The chain is taken from a strip of my bandolier, too."

"The craftsmanship..." you whisper, awestruck, "It's beautiful."

Then, Din says something which catches you completely off-guard.

“I want you to be part of my Clan, cyare,” Din announces.

Your mouth falls open. You look up at Din, stunned at his declaration. He does not want to leave you behind or cast you out. He wants you to be with him forever. You begin to feel the rumbling of tears somewhere deep inside your gut. You almost allow yourself to smile.

Almost.

Your moment of happiness shatters when you realise joining Din's Clan likely comes with an expectation to be Mandalorian. You hope the necklace does not come with the assumption of committing yourself to something you remain unsure that you want for yourself.

Yet bringing that up to Din would surely disappoint him, a terrible prospect. His Way is of utmost importance to him.

“But, Din… I’m not Mandalorian,” you whisper, your eyes filling with tears as you remind him of your differences.

“It doesn’t matter,” Din shakes his head.

"Are you sure?" you breathe, stunned.

"I'm positive, cyare. You can take this necklace to any Mandalorian and say my name. If you present this to a Mandalorian covert and tell them Din Djarin set you, they will ensure you are protected and safe for as long as you need. No matter where you are in the galaxy.”

“Even though I’m not Mandalorian?” you whisper, astonished.

“Yes. One does not have to walk The Way in order to be protected by us," Din nods.

You are stunned. For so long, you had mistaken Mandalorian covertness for exclusion. You had believed they disliked and distrusted anyone who did not follow their way of life. Now you realise that you had entirely misconstrued their seclusion. Mandalorians, it transpires, are fiercely protective over anyone they care about, an honour not restricted to their own kind.

"After what happened, I want to feel reassured by knowing that you would have somewhere to turn to for refuge if something like that were ever to happen again. More than that, I want you…” Din sighs, steadying himself. “I want you to be part of my Clan,” he adds, his voice full of certainty.

“I couldn't possibly be worthy of such a thing,” you shake your head, unable to meet his gaze, "I shot one nerfherder in self-defence and look at the toll it took on me," you scoff, fiddling with the necklace and avoiding Din's gaze.

Din is unsatisfied with your words. He brings his hand to your chin and tilts it upwards until your eyes are level with the steely gaze of his dark T-visor.

“You are absolutely worthy,” Din adds with finality and certainty in his voice that causes your chest to constrict, “You have shown as much fight and resolve as any Mandalorian warrior would be proud of. You may not be Mandalorian, but you have our spirit. Our manda, our soul. You do not have to be Mandalorian to be loved by one. So, it would be the honour of my life if you would join my Clan, cyare,” Din adds solemnly.

He takes his hand from under your chin and balls it into a fist. Then he raises his clenched fist to his chestplate and holds it over his heart. He bows his head in your direction, wordlessly demonstrating his affection for you.

With his beautiful words and deferent actions, how could you refuse such an offer?

“Then, I will happily join your clan, Din Djarin,” you whisper.

You watch with curiosity as Din takes the necklace from your hand. Then, he softly places a gloved hand on your shoulder and gently turns you around. You realise what he is doing when the pendant slides down over your chest. You smile as you feel the cool metal make contact with your skin through the cloth of the simple clothes you wear. The thin leather is a comforting presence around your neck, especially when combined with the weight of the Mythosaur.

You turn around to face Din once again. You are unable to prevent the grin that spreads across your features. For the first time since that terrifying encounter with that ghastly man, you feel a true sense of tranquillity. You no longer find yourself plagued by fear for the future.

You realise that you should probably make some profound speech of gratitude. Instead, you sigh in contentment as you stand before Din. You are too happy to find words, perfectly content merely to stand before the man you adore. A man whom, thanks to the necklace you wear around your neck, you are now bound to.

Din brings his hands to your sides, resting them against your body as his thumbs rub fond circles into your hips. There is no fear, no uncertainty anymore.

The future for you and Din is bright.

Din eventually sighs fondly, cupping your chin with his gloved hand.

“It suits you,” he nods in approval.

You smile at the gesture and turn your lips into his fingers, placing a kiss on the soft leather there. Then, Din brings your forehead to his helmet in a gesture he has assured you is akin to a kiss in his eyes. For now, at least, it is the only way he can kiss you.

You stay like that for a few moments.

Eventually, Din's deep voice breaks the silence.

“Ner aliit,” Din whispers. Then adds in basic, for the benefit of your ears:

“My family.”

#din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fluff #pedro pascal characters #my fics #i had a blast writing this on the whole even if getting it juuuuust right did at times make me want to tear my arms off #and beat myself to death with them #but no like honestly writing is so fun!!!!!!!!!#anyway hope i succeeded and you enjoyed this one!!!!

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court-jobi · 1 year

Text

We Have Time

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Words: 4,661

Rating: Teen/Mature (spicy second half) 18+ to be safe, my lovelies

A/N: the helmet comes off, separation anxiety, comfort comfort comfort, oral (fem receiving), hand-holding spicy times, my love language is Mando'a, Mandalorian partnerships are top tier, Soft!Din Djarin

Summary: Your heart is torn in two, where your past life and the one you're living in now come to a crossroads and you need to make a decision. Temporary as it is, the stakes feel higher than ever. You're asked to take part in an incredibly lucrative job-- one that'll bring home the biggest paycheck of your life-- at the expense of six weeks of your time, and away from your life partner for the first time in a year.

Now that you have a home, something to lose... something to miss.

But if there is one man who can make you feel like the only creature in the galaxy he would drop anything for, who would support you and your brilliant mind, who would encourage you to the edge of Wild Space and back-- it is your riduur, Din Djarin.

And your Mandalorian is top knotch at keeping his promises and pleasures to you; will give them to you in equal measure:

--in the light of day, and in bed if you ask...

Read on AO3

"That was quick. Back already?"

You'd stopped under the repulsor grille of the Razor Crest, shuffled about until he wheeled himself out from the underside of the ramp. The moment he saw your face, he sat to attention on his knees.

"--Cyar'ika?"

"He offered me the job."

"Thirty-five…" He repeated, stunned, "thousand credits?"

"--A week;" Dead serious. "Thirty-five, a week."

Din swayed a moment, elbows to his knees; presently, reevaluating all his life choices. “I sure got into the wrong business, didn’t I.”

“Not to brag or anything,” you gave a dazzling smirk his way, “but your girl is a badass when it comes to making the big bucks~”

"What kind of freighters are these?"

"Really kriffing big ones." You gave a smirk, "This is an investment that's gonna take boss-man to the next level of bacta distribution."

"Damn right. It has to be."

How could you not become a mogul with twenty of these freighters in your fleet?

"How long do they need a mech there?" Din asked next.

"Corbyn said the initial contract request outlined work for 4 weeks.." you tweaked the timeline, "-maybe a more realistic five, depending on the speed of things. If they have to order more parts than expected, it could add a couple day’s labor in the meantime. That's not too uncommon."

Din's helmet bobbed around amazed- the tone flowing through his helmet to show he was impressed,

"That's a hell of a job. You handle things like that?"

"I've done it before. You fill 'other duties as assigned' to kill time while deliveries show up. Things that need the human touch, y’know? Not droid repairs or anything. He's probably got plenty of odd projects I can wrap for him in the shipyard. Speeders, junkers, old gunships he likes to restore and lease out."

Comically, Din looked around to the Razor Crest- his own old girl that could use a 'bit of work'.

"If I'd known you could handle fleet tech," he rose to his feet to join you, "I'd have given you the bigger bunkroom from the start. Experience like yours deserves better perks than just any ride-along mechanic. No wonder he wants to lock you in."

"C'mon, don't be dramatic~" You laughed. "I don’t need fuss. I might be in demand right now, but m'not that impressive."

"You are impressive.” Din pressed, “I'm not shocked at all."

His confidence in you never failed to make you beam… though it carried weight this time around. The biggest paycheck of your life is on the chopping block in front of you.

The Mandalorian wrenched the tool against the base of his palm. All teasing aside, the stakes were setting in; you can tell by where he looks off now. He asked the biggest factor:

"...And the start date?"

"Well:" you bit the bullet with a gnaw of your teeth against your cheek, "end of this week."

Din nodded. Brief. Accepting.

"Think you'll be ready in that quick of a turnaround?"

You froze– that assumption was a mega leap. You hadn't even gotten that far.

"He– didn't really give me a chance to ask what I'd need to wrap up; he went to catch someone else before they left the hangar. But good grief, Din," you crossed your arms and furrowed your brows to confusion, "I wouldn't have given him an answer even if he asked– I'd never just do something like this without telling you!"

He seemed to straighten at that. Surprised for some reason, that you would think this way when it was all obvious to you.

You caught yourself– no sense in unpacking that to death. Next question.

"How did you leave things then?"

"Said he'd check back in the morning for my decision either way. He recognized the ship, knows where to find me.." you gestured lightly beside you, the booster you stood beneath.

The tense proposition buzzed around your head. This job looks on flimsi to be the makings of a good deal, a strong as hellfire tick on your winstreak, and one you wouldn't have blinked at six months ago.

But you knew what that would require: leaving. Both your Mandalorian and the Child. Your beloved boys that roped you in and made you their family.

It's funny, the last time you took a job like the old days, things went completely wrong from the start and ended before it ever got off the ground:

It was only a short time after you'd met, but sparks had already begun to fly between you and this Mandalorian; you'd worked so perfectly together so far. In tandem, each other's missing piece. And what's more, you found yourself enjoying the company, knowing you didn't have to go it alone anymore. That was so refreshing– and unheard of. Like the oddest pairing of hard to soft, a sun-warmed kitten to cold humanized steel, you were drawn into each other's orbit to thrive better than you might have alone. This was a partnership, truly. And you saw a solo job as a way to contribute, pull your weight.

So you agreed to one that came your way one day, and called it an easy win- he'd drop you off, pick you up, same time next week. You'd felt a little funny leaving him, even then. In this time together, you knew you’d surely miss his company, but denied yourself any true separation anxiety: it’s not like it was earned. How could it be? You'd just met.

But you'd parted. Gone your separate ways with a rendezvous plan already in the forefront of your mind as you went to meet your ride–

–when an explosion along the tram you were set to board sent a crowd hurtling towards you. If you hadn’t said a long goodbye like you did, if you’d stalled just two minutes less… you'd have been on that train.

It was pronounced a cylinder misalignment, diagnostic fluke or something like that– and not intentional. But you didn’t know that at the time. A sudden burst of fuel setting the entire transport dock ablaze had you shook.

You'd turned tail to run straight back towards where the Mando had left you– only to hear your name being shouted from a clouded receiver, encased in a beskar helmet, somehow rising loud and strong over the swarm of panic-ridden pedestrians…

He was running to you, too.

Didn't bother making other arrangements for the job call in all the chaos, after that. But given that little scare, you both decided to just cut the losses and try again next time the opportunity presented itself. Bad luck, eh? Next time, for sure.

…That was eight months ago. You ruled out any solo jobs, and so did he.

If only for a short tenure, the op; and this time wasn't unheard of or impossible.. But not only were you rusty, but the timing was horrible. And long.

Din set his tool down, finally rising to come up to you.

“We can talk it through all you like…" he posed to you, "But you’ll need to listen to your gut in the end. What do you think?"

You looked back wildly. He was leaving this huge decision up to you?? Did he seriously think you'd blindly accept?

"What do I think?" You started defensive, then… stopped.

Considered, and easing up, you sighed.

You eyed the split in the exhaust somewhere over Din's head, the one on its last leg.

"I think... it would be enough to fix her." You scanned the Razor Crest, her makeshift patches along the outer shell of the thruster. "-And then some. I know money isn't everything, but.. It's a shit-ton of money, babe. It's... doable." you laughed nervously, thankful Din finally joined your side as you explained the pros.

Doable was an understatement. This was more than agreeable, at this paygrade. You'd be a dikut to turn down even half that price.

After he brushed them off a bit, his hands came up to hold your cheeks; visor trained on you, unreadable. But you knew better. He was assessing, looking for the hesitation, the test of any doubts.

"You could stop taking pucks for a while," with a small smile, you caught his wrists in return "Skyborn knows you deserve a break. You can rest up for once..."

He made a little sound, stroking your cheek in a gentle show of thanks. You were considering you both in this, which broke you more to think about going separate ways for a while.

You ran through the logistics, too– the loose ends.

"And– I figured you'd be off to find that Jedi anyway, and I know how you get about worlds I haven't been to before. This would be an easy one. Just your average, smoggy, Corellian garage.You've seen one? Then picture it, filled with bubba Rhodians and Keshiris, and that's the home away from home." You joked gently.

There were plenty of benefits to this arrangement and Din nodded curtly to acknowledge them, but a gentle shake of his head showed he was still pondering some things, unseen.. You really wished you'd told him all this inside, where you could read his reaction better.

The quiet from him was beginning to make you doubt your good reasoning at all.

"Please say something?" You begged softly.

Only one thing came to mind- by the way he was likely running through the script of his whenever he thought of you, you had a good idea what he’d say.

His aliit. His creed. Your safety, above all else.

"This Corbyn... Do you trust him?"

It was a loaded question. Trust was rare for him, yet you earned his. But Din couldn't be responsible for you while in the care of someone else, which clearly had him on edge about all this. He’d surely wanna meet the guy before you shipped out. While that thought seemed parental, you understood it- and would expect no less from the man who valued you like the finest of beskar ingots.

You braved a little smile.

"I do. He's a good guy. Bites off more than he can chew but--- but it's the same setup as I did back when he hired me for the baby stuff,” you squeezed his wrists, “It would be safe.”

A careful thumb came to your temple, brushing the beskar steel adorning you. Pushed your hair back in a stylish fashion, it did– but in reality was your beautiful proposal gift. Then Din traced the skin just below it, raking through your hair. The touch ached.

"I didn't think this would ever happen. Didn’t know he docked this far out for fueling anyway,” you absently studied you Mandalorian’s thick cowl from your spot here at chest level. “I haven't had a way to contact Wid in forever. Hell, I know I used to do this all the time before, but… It's just different now.” you sunk into him. Your gut deflated, sadder the more you spoke. “And if all goes well at the next stop, well… the kiddo will be gone too."

That still made you sick to think about. Your voice was catching and you hated it.

"It's just a lot think about, leaving you right now. I don't know what my gut thinks about it."

Fortunately, he soothed you like no other: at the first sound of distress, he’d slid a steadying hand down to your waist and pulled you close to accept his touch. His forehead met yours.

"Mhi solus tome, mesh’la, bal dar'tome" He spoke softly. "We vow these words for this exact circumstance."

It meant so much more to you now: one when together, and apart.

"My kind, we grow up with buirkan. Our carers have no formal roles. They are buir. They both share the load, they both meet the needs of their ad, their tribe. That’s what partnership is; I… I ask what you want to do, because I know no other way.”

Din caressed down to your chin, taking in your fully torn expression.

“I trust your judgment here, mesh’la. I leave this one to you; you know this kind of work better than I do. If you're comfortable.. and -only- if you're comfortable, and you -want- to do this, you have my support. Always."

You wanted to break at this trust, crush and crumble at his bouying nature. He was handing you the reins as equals, despite the hushed strain he said the words. He could say all the right things, but by no means did he not feel. You knew it wasn't easy– not even for him.

Up the repaired ramp, you caught sight of the child peeking out from the ship’s open door. He called in that funny little chirp– trying to sing again.

You smiled, despite the lurching feeling in your chest shaking you. "Hi, buddy."

He waved and watched his own steps as he hurried down the ramp.

You met his short arms just a step out of Din's hold, and brought the child up to you. He seemed to know something was wrong, because his ears fell back the moment his settled at your chest level where he'd reached up for your face. You shut your eyes at the touch.

"This won't be a forever goodbye." Din soothed you, “You know that, right?”

Din must be forgetting how poor the reception on Corellia is.

You chimed back, knowing the truth for yourself. "Gotta prepare myself as if it is, though."

"We don't know what we'll find there." Din set a hand to your low back again, unable to keep from you for too long. "The Jedi may not even be in Calodan. We could be back before you know it; and we'd wait here until your work term is done."

The optimistic thought did sound better and helped you swallow.

"That's fair. Stranger things have happened."

Your Mandalorian. Sweet, sweet Din. Under the hum of the air reserves cycling outside the ship, he cupped the back of your head and leaned against your temple.

"I know you're torn. But you don't need to worry about us in this. We’re behind whatever you decide."

The child looked to his buir. He reached a bit to his shoulder strap for Din, so you passed him over. That helmet of his hid a lot– but not tone. He clearly didn't like the thought of this either; having to explain to the kid why you’d be gone by the time he wakes up in the morning in a few days.

So he treated it like any other trip.

"How bout it, pal," he spoke with a quirk of the helmet to the Child, "Would you be ok with a solo trip for a while? Just like old times."

The munchkin cooed at this, fingers raking over the notches. He seemed happy, if he understood at all. Good thing he’s young, you thought. A peaceful hope, at the very least.

It gave you a happy comfort– for now.

The real churning would hit you when you gave Corbyn your answer. When he gave you the gameplan for the rest of the team he’s hiring, and when he got to meet your very intimidating Mandalorian husband– who he profusely sucked up to when he observed how protective he seemed of you.

When that last night came and you tucked in the kiddo and realized you'd be packing up for your first real time away from your Mandalorian: your husband.

…for the first time in over a year.

The Mandalorian brought you to bed in the most tender, gentlest way he ever had that night. In complete darkness, the way he did before he'd shown his face: where your senses would be sharpened and you'd feel everything he did, and take your time doing it.

Maybe it was a comfort for himself too, out of an old habit to shield himself while next to bare that you didn't seem to mind. Through little noises: elated, pleasurable, heartfelt, tickled sighs and begs, he always found his way across you.

–But he heard the difference between a gasp and a cry.

At the second you inhale sharply in a clear watery sniff he stopped giving kisses down your ribcage. Where he'd been massaging you with careful, trigger steady hands tucked under your sweater, Din climbed back onto his knees and shifted up to cradle your face with those same warm palms.

"Hey.. I'm right here. What's wrong?" Din asked gently.

You process by his tone that he'd halted altogether–

Hands clawed for his arms to come back around you,

"Nono no, don't stop!"

He thumbed beside your eyes, meeting wetness.

"Riduur.."

"I'm fine, jus-- just keep going, please." your snivels did little to convince him you were okay. Desperate for him as always, but not out of pure lust anymore.

Above you -practically blind- the Mandalorian tensed. Worried for your heart above all else. Testing light, brushing fingers along your neck and onto your chest, he strove to feel past your flushed, quivering shield. To soothe your skin, but also check your heart rate.

He avoided the suspicious edge in his chest with a calm, doting voice,

"We have time, cyar'ika."

"No, we don’t!-- I--"

There it was.

A kiss graced your crown to still you, then a longer one over your lips. He leaned his forehead to yours, calming you with strokes through your hair until you gathered your true thoughts. Naturally, he'd wait as long as he needed to let you continue, but he didn't need to wait long to hear your whisper.

"Tell me again this is a good idea…"

Tell me I need to go through with it, or else I'll talk myself out.

You felt lips trailing lower in soft presses, taking all your piqued attention while they went on the hunt for a sweet spot. Din’s unfiltered voice made you shiver with each bit he’d speak against the column of your neck… down and up again.

He whispered, beyond tenderness and into reverence,

"This isn't going to be forever.” A kiss to your cheek briefly, “You're going to do a great job and you're coming through for a friend. Won’t just help you, but millions in the galaxy who will benefit from the work you’re doing. This is something big, and you're being rewarded for it. This is a good thing."

You heard the smile in his voice and thanked Ashla -once again- for the Grace given to you to have a man like this in your arms.

"You're brilliant, riduur.” Din sang your praises, “You're giving up so much. But I'm really proud of you... This isn't too big for us."

You nodded, getting a grip and gaining a controlling breath.

“It’s not too big for us.”

“That’s right.”

"I'm gonna miss this." You touched his cheek, craving this proximity while you had it.

He leaned into it and kissed the palm when it slid into reach.

"I'm right here."

He is here, and the words warm you through, sending a heat wave that buzzes around your spine when you let yourself believe it. He's right here, and he is all yours. Would be, too, even if you were jumps away in the stars.

You were one when together, and you would be one when apart.

The latter would be tested soon, but that creed? You'd take both truths with you as your own.

He's right here.

And he proved it.

Din's tongue made a few kitten licks as he kissed your wrist next; then down, and down, until he merged both your fingers and pressed where you joined into the space above your head. His order, to stay there, while his left yours to send sparks down your arm on the underside, to tease.

"You know," Din's adoring tone dripped with doting interest while he resumed mapping out your body. "Just like with 'love', there's not really one word to say 'im sorry' among our people."

"You can't– say– just 'sorry'?" Your voice still sounded wet at its edges, but your chest clipped with interest. "What do you say when you kriff up, then?"

Din laughed with a rasp, but answered,

"Depends how big you kriff up. Something small, that's nothing. You'd let it go. No harm done."

–Then Din's hands made a parallel move behind your knees, pulling and pinning them up with a sudden fierceness.

Talking about a tangent: he’s talking about apologizing, but for what… He'd done nothing wrong, you thought. But you let him speak; he's enlightening you. Surely to distract, but by chik it's working.

From where he sat, he was fully between your legs and about to bow over you.

"But when I need forgiveness, true forgiveness–"

You hummed for his answer.

"Ni ceta," Din kissed your sternum. The lips dragged downward in a slow crawl, then nearly growled from the deepest part of him: " 'I kneel.' "

You gasped when his tongue swiped up your core. Every end of your body sang out its pleasure at the touch– his tasting you while on his knees. The heat made you keen. Your sweater didn't stay on for long once he started.

You shucked out of the rest of your nightclothes as easily as you could, then let your arms fall lax above your head again. He wasn't checking that you were holding onto anything, but you minded where he last left them. When you ground up, he pressed you down. When you moaned, he copied you- right onto your clit. And when you sighed his name, those expert hands massaged you within every inch of his reach.

By all means, you should be on your knees for him for as good as he felt, how he was treating you… falling only just short of worshipping you without words.

Your drop was coming, coming, coming, and you were about to completely fall apart by that tongue of his. You told him so, with a quiver to your voice and hands shooting down to stroke along his head between your thighs.

"Din– Din, Din honey…"

He purred into you with a few rounding nudges of his head.

"Yes, m'angel," he whispered in the space between you, between his kisses, "Lemme kneel for you. Lemme send you off right t'night– straight to the stars, cyar'ika."

The telltale sign was your quick breaths and baby whimpers, so Din doubled down and tamped his arms down on your waist– until you came, hard.

You cried out of complete pleasure now, your sobs turning into pitiful begs with a dazed smile that betrayed any tear at the edge of your eyes. You tried to push Din's head away entirely, but he didn't let up until he heard the actual words,

"Please!! Please, n-no more, baby–"

You minded your volume only for the sake of the kiddo outside the door; you didn't want him thinking you were in pain and taking it on himself to investigate (like last time).

Released and limber, you panted as your adoring husband simply took a hand to your core and rubbed it slow and steady to quivering calmness. He licked his own lips with a satisfied sigh in cleaning himself up.

"There she is." Din's praises returned, "There's my happy Love…"

"You're–" you wheezed, "youh-what’dya do wrong… that y’needed forgiveness?..”

He nuzzled into your neck, pleasure and prayers coating each of his kisses: to cover you with his love before you go.

“I’m a selfish man,” Din craved the warmth he found there, “Tempted to devour you where you stood, watching you run through those schematics with your boss today… Had to hold myself back by a rancor’s leash. Can only hope-” he nibbled at your ear, “-that this is enough to atone for this covet’s heart.”

Pride flooded you, invigorating. Filling you even more than his words usually did.

“Well fuck,” you sighed again, “You’re forgiven…"

Din's hands petted you, while he dropped kisses up your body this time, starting to settle. Before he got too far, you halted his ascent by his shoulders,

"But… you don't hafta leave your knees yet.."

With a warm smile you know would be there, you could only feel in the dark how Din’s loving laugh came with its teasing caress to bless you. To wish you only good memories, good thoughts, the things he promised to give you in droves. The love you so much deserved and what he was all too passionate to give you as he knelt between your legs filled you completely, the tale of which came through his tender reach: pulling your thighs back to him– one hanging clear up to his shoulder.

Delicious scratches made by his fingers skirted down that leg. ‘Want’ screamed its way through touch. Touch that you would miss so badly… touch you would crave when you laid down alo-

"Liser ni ceta, ner mesh’la? Cin vehtin, gedet'yu gar se ner riduur ru’kir?”

Din’s words sent you shivering– of course, you had no clue what half of those meant. And he knew that. Cheeky.

But it worked, you know. It always did pull you from your misery– curiosity for this man and everything about him.

“You’re tryna kill me with that mouth, aren’t you?” you chuckled. “Take my heart right outta my chest before I can even think?”

Din kissed your ankle while he teased the soft, supple core where you were about to join– the ‘last chance’ moment he always gave you. Encased in darkness, your sign of ‘yes’ in lieu of a nod was a wiggle to ‘get a move on’.

“Have that already, I think. Just as you have mine,” Din slid home and relished your sigh at the intrusion. His own groan sent his breaths reeling at the new closeness.

“Really not fair I– (ahhh) can only catch l-like– two words outta that..”

Din ground up into you. He’s not really setting a pace yet– just getting comfortable and giving you time.

“You know me. I prefer to show you what I mean anyway, Angel-Eyes.”

God those pet names… You’ll miss them as if you’re missing a limb. How will you manage..-

“Gotta remind you of what’s waiting for you when you come home to me,” Din broke you from your thoughts, “...N’... have something to remember you by.”

Relaxing around him, your eyes fluttered shut. Home– that sounded heavenly. And if you had more of this– a lifetime of it, even– well that sounded worth it to you.

And that little comment told you everything: he’s going to miss you, too.

You moaned lightly, reaching for his shoulder to pull him down. So, he released your leg to make room, and gave you a full, searing kiss once he laid flat. Even if your positions were reversed, he couldn’t meld with you any closer.

“S’this ok?” he whispered.

You whimpered your ‘yes’– a happy one, now. Full.

So you didn’t bother asking what that string of Mando’a meant– but gave your best guess.

“Then– f’you’re asking to make it last… so I can’t forget…” you begged with hands locking onto his, “then yes. Please, riduur–”

Heart thundering wildly in your chest, you caved when Din leaned in and started kissing your neck so deeply, and so strongly, that you knew you’d have no trouble remembering him for the next several weeks.

Surely it would pass quickly- life had a way of doing that. All was going to work out.

He would be here for you– together and apart.

He only broke off from the dampened skin of your neck to bow into the curve of your shoulder– before throwing his entire self into your loving embrace from the power of his hips. He kneels there, just long enough to hear you:

“Make this last for me.”

#the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #the mandalorian smut #spicy times #star wars fanfiction #the helmet comes off #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you

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dumbbitchenergy17 · 1 year

Text

Clan of Three - Chapter 1

Chapter One: The Mandalorian, The Child, and The Thief

Plot: A Mandalorian, an infant with a history of the jedi, and a teenager with similar powers with an undiscovered lineage. An unlikely group to travel the galaxy together.

Word Count: 5.9K

Pairing: Father Figure!Din Djarin x Platonic!Teen!Reader

Warnings: Fighting, teenage behavior, small injuries

------

A ship known by many for the man on board, he couldn’t even be described as a man. Skillful in languages, the ways of a blaster, and hand-to-hand, part of a race of the past. The bounty hunter, part of the creed. Their famous words, ‘This is the Way’.

The Mandalorian...

Dirt and dust fill the air as the Pre-Galactic ship lands on the planet of Nevarro. A sharp hiss comes from the landing gear as the large ramp opens up a man dressed in the finest armor and weapons stalks through the town. Looks and whispers as he makes his way through the town. A cantina filled with music and booze, its patrons conversating with one another or drinking their problems away but the arrival of this bounty hunter silences them instantly as his cold gaze scans across the room.

Spotting hidden in the corner a dark-skinned man who once his eyes meet his helmet raises a hand, “Ah, that was fast. Did you catch them all?” He asks and the hunter silently places all the tracking fobs on the table in front of him, “Good. I’ll begin the off-load.” The man nods at the seat in front of him and the other man sits down. Pulling his reward from his pocket and sliding them across the table.

“These are Imperial credits.” The Mandalorian says finding no use in them, the empire was something he didn’t want to support. The other man shrugs trying to convince him, “They still spend.”

The masked ban glares at the other man through his helmet, “I don’t know if you heard, but the empire is gone, Greef” His modulated voice shows his disgust and irritation.

“It’s all I’ve got.” The man puts his hands up and the hunter stands grabbing his trackers rather to give them to someone who will pay his preferred currency, “Save the theatrics…fine I’ll.” He sighs pocketing the money and pulling out a different payment, “I can do Calamari Flan, but I can only pay half.” He looks at other options contemplating them before grabbing the blue credits.

Greef signals someone in the cantina who leaves to unload the bounties on the ship, “Okay…I have a bail jumper, bail jumper, another bail jumper, a wanted smuggler-” “I’ll take them all.” The Mandalorian cuts off the man’s listing ready for new work making Greef let out a laugh.

“Nah, hold on. There are other members of the Guild, and this is all I have.” He shakes his head but the bounty hunter didn’t care about other people, “Why so slow?”

“It's not slow at all. Actually, very busy. They just don't want to pay Guild rates. They don't mind if things get sloppy.” Greef explains leaning back in his seat and gesturing to the bar quickly bringing him a drink. The Mandalorian watches him twitching to get off this planet and onto the next bounty and reward,

“What’s your highest bounty?”

“Not much. Five thousand.” Greef recalled his highest payment for all those bounties, the price bothering the hunter,

“That won't even cover fuel these days.”

The Guild member nods slowly before one job he forgot to mention comes to mind, “Hmm. There is one job.”

“Let’s see the puck.” The hunter holds out his hand ready to start.

Greef shook his head taking a sip of his drink, “No puck. Face to face. Direct commission. Deep pocket.” This was not a normal occurrence, bounties always had a puck or something for the bounty hunter. The Mandalorian could only think who was so important to whoever wanted them dead or alive.

“Underworld?” Mando questioned,

“All I know is no chain code” Greef pulls out a chit card placing it on the table between the two of them taunting the hunter the offer not standing for long, “Do you want the chit or not?”

Arriving at the meeting with the client he hadn’t expected the empire to lead to a standoff with four remnant stormtroopers' blasters aimed at him and his weapons aimed at them. A hand stops the soldiers and they all lower their weapons the bounty hunter slowly lowering his but not putting it away. “He also said you were expensive. Very expensive,” The client gestured to him to sit, “Please sit.” The Mandalorian sits down hesitant his hand twitching at his gun when the client grabs something out of view bringing out something wrapped in cloth. Unwrapping it the shining metal glisters in the light the same metal that decorated the hunter’s body. The staple of the Mandalorians is a metal of high value and meaning.

”Beskar?” He says looking at the metal brick surprised to see such a large piece of it.

“Go ahead. It’s real.” The client allows the hunter to inspect the ingot. “This is only a down payment. I have a case of beskar waiting for you upon delivery of the assets.” The client explains his payment being something large until the words acknowledged him

“Assets?” He was only expecting one bounty for this underground work.

The client nods his wrinkled hands folding together in front of him before waving a hand at the hunter, “I’m sure a man of your skill will have no trouble collecting two assets.”

“Alive.” The otherwise silent doctor pops in standing to the side with a data pad filled with whatever information,

“Yes. Alive. Although, I acknowledge that bounty hunting is a complicated profession. This being the case, proof of termination is also acceptable for a lower fee.” The imperial man says and the doctor looks at him in shock, “That is not what we agreed upon.”

“I’m simply being pragmatic.” The client gives his final word before turning back to the silent hunter.

“Let’s see the puck,” He says needing more information before he could decide whether to take the offer. He was going to take it, the second the beskar was brought out he knew it was going to be in better hands once it was returned to the Mandalorians.

The man frowns looking away, “I’m afraid discretion dictates a less traditional agreement. We can only offer you a tracking fob.” The doctor hands the Mandalorian a tracking fob.

“What’s the chain code?’ He asked still prying for information.

“We can only provide the last four digits for each.” The client says.

“Their age? That’s all you can give me?” The Mandalorian says growing more frustrated.

“Yes. One of them is 50 years old while the other is 17 years old. We can also give you the last reported positional data. Between that and the fob, a man of your skill should make short work of this.” The client smirks at the bounty hunters' conflict as he gets up and moves to leave. “The beskar belongs back into the hands of a Mandalorian. It is good to restore the natural order of things after a period of such disarray, don't you agree?”

His decision was made then.

The air was cool on your skin as you left your room slipping out through the window to avoid your father asleep just in the other room. It was calming walking through the silent town, but it quickly changes when hands grab you. One quickly covering your mouth to muffle your screams, you kick your leg back hearing a sickening crack as they roar in pain biting on the hand covering your mouth the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. You try to run off knowing you couldn’t overpower the men, you go to scream out when something collides against your head and you crumble to the ground.

That had been about four weeks ago when you later woke up in a room chained to the wall having no idea where you were and even if you were on your planet. It had been about a week into your captivity when you gained a companion. A creature that must have been an infant had joined you. So you watched the child giving portions of your food since he needed it more and watched over him. Silences were common in the room you were being held in other than the babbles and sounds coming from the babe. Until a loud pop sounded muffled before another, you couldn’t tell what it was until the sounds of screams came with them. Gunfire…

The door burst open and two men enter one unlocking your chains and the other grabbing the child’s carrier bringing you out of the darkroom into a larger one. The sounds of fighting and gunfire grow louder out here, “It’s only two of them out there, why won’t they die!” The one with the child growls out pushing his carrier against a pile of crates the harsh movement making him cry out.

“Stop it. You’re going to hurt it.” You push the man away from the child. He whips around smacking you across the face it stings in pain. You glare at him and spit the blood that pools in your mouth right in his face. He wipes the red off him before quickly lifting his rifle slamming the butt of the gun against your temple and you crumple to the ground.

The fight on the outside is long over and almost unfair to the mercenaries, the doors leading into the building explode open with the heavy weapon the bounty hunter uses. The rubble falls around the doorway created as he enters followed by a droid, IG-11. It’s silent as he stalks inside, with quick reflexes as a lone enemy jumps out and is quickly shot down.

“Anyone else?” The bounty hunter calls out as the droid looks around before down at the tracking fob it had.

“The tracking fob is still active. My sensors indicate that there are two life forms present.” The Mandalorian scans the room coming upon a girl unconscious bleeding from the temple and an egg-shaped container behind her. The tracking fob beeps louder in the direction of both the girl and the container as the hunter cautiously opens it.

“Wait. They said 50 years old.” He looks confused at what was supposedly the 50-year-old asset but looked like a child.

“Species age differently unlike the female. Perhaps it could live many centuries.” IG-11 explains as the child slowly emerges from the blanket, this tiny green creature looks up at him stretching its hand out to him, “Sadly, we’ll never know.” The IG unit starts to raise its gun but the Mandalorian stops it.

“No. We’ll bring them in alive.” He says commanding the droid to stop and ignore its protocol.

“The commission was quite specific. The assets were to be terminated.” IG raises its two weapons aimed at the child and the girl.

A shot is fired, and the IG unit drops to the ground shot down by the Mandalorian. He puts his blaster back in his holster walking up to the child as it continues to look up at him in wonder. He shifts his gaze from the child to the girl, those two were meant to be his bounties.

Your head stung with pain as you were jostled around in a constant up-down movement. Blinking your eyes adjusting to the bright light, were you dead? Was this heaven? Your vision finally focuses and you see a helmet the visor a T-shape. Fight or flight kicks in as your fist collides with the underside of the mask hitting him straight in the jaw. Not expecting the attack he stumbles still holding you and you push yourself out of his arms. You hit the ground the sand cushioning your fall as you scramble to stand holding out the blade you swiped from his boot. A blaster is pointed at you but you keep your grip on the knife fierce ready to fight. You take in the man before you dressed in armor and weapons, but what had your eyes widen was the design of the helmet. Once you had seen before…Mandalorian.

“Who are you? Where the hell am I?” You hiss out holding the blade with two hands as he has his blaster trained on you before he holsters it holding his hands out showing he was of no harm.

“You're on Arvala-7.” The man says you were slightly taken back that he spoke your language and not Mando’a but you still weren’t taking your chances.

“Who are you?” You glare the knife still pointed at him trying to figure out who he was through the helmet.

“I can’t tell you that but it’s either you trust me or let even more people who aren’t willing to have you alive.” Those mercenaries only kept you alive for whatever reason until this stranger showed up including the child. Your eyes widen…the child!

“Where is it?!” You demand, looking around for the child. You remember the hit of the gun before you were knocked out.

“Where’s what?” “The child.” You see behind him was the container holding him, the creature looking at both of you. “Oh thank the maker, I spent the last few weeks watching over it.” You sigh in relief and the man nods before walking off the carrier following after him,

“We should get going.” You rush after him pocketing the knife in your belt and coming beside him.

“You’re a Mandalorian…I’ve never met a Mandalorian before,” You speak up glancing at the silent man, “What’s your name, you never gave one.” He barely looks at you before walking ahead so you were behind him making you scoff, “asshole.” You mumble under your breath dragging your feet through the sand. He continues silently despite the heavy armor that should be making noise as you all enter the base of a canyon. “So do you ever take off your helmet at all? Like even when you slee-”

His hand juts out making you run into it and you glare up at him from the corner of your eye you see his hand slowly reaching for his blaster. An ambush of Trandoshans wielding axes rushing towards you, one swings its axe at you when he shoves you out of the way. You hit the ground pushing yourself up from the sand when one of the bounty hunters wraps his arms around your waist lifting you up into the air and dragging you from the group.

“Hey! Let…me go!” You thrash in his arms twisting and turning in his grip trying to break free, the loud sound of a gunshot right by your head making your ears ring as the both of you hit the ground. You scramble away seeing the blaster wound in his chest and you look back seeing the Mandalorian holding his blaster pointed at you. He lets out a hiss of pain the metal of one of the axes slicing his arm, he prepares to counter when a blade is protruding from the Trandoshan’s hand. He looks back seeing you holding your hand out having thrown the knife before the both of you are attacked by more hunters. You can see one heading towards the child with your hunter busy fighting off two of them. Looking around having lost your weapon when you grab one of the axes the weight is heavy in your grasp. It’s right before the child when you swing the axe the weight and momentum striking its side a screech coming from it. It swings its own axe out and you block it with the handle of the blade the clang of metal and sparks ring through the air. Kicking out at its side making it cry out in pain you swing the axe digging it deep into its arm. You struggle to pull the weapon free and with its own weapon coming at you, you can only dodge letting go of the blade. If you had been a second late it would have been worse than the blade slicing across your cheek. It raises its axe to bring it down on you when it's shot crumbling to the ground. Looking up seeing the Mandalorian blaster still smoking as you quickly move away from the dead enemies to the hunter and the child.

“Thanks.” You breathe out your hand touching your cheek wincing from the pain pulling back and seeing red. He nods his attention turns to the ground where there is a blinking tracking fob.

“We need to keep moving.” He says the three of you quickly leave the canyon and the remains of the fight. Dusk had long settled the beating sun leaving only the cool night feeling nice on your sweaty skin. Out in the dunes camp had been set up the fire blazing on the open sands, your gaze taking in the embers floating into the air. You were used to this much sand and the heat hadn’t bothered you but it felt foreign now. You were somewhere maybe not in your same system anymore you hadn’t even been off your planet before. Your home was all you knew of and now you had people after you trying to kill you. A hiss of pain comes from the bounty hunter beside you trying to sear his wound up but unable to with the angle of the cut. You move closer trying to help when a blaster is pointed at you making you put your hands up.

“I was just trying to help.” You say slowly sitting back in your spot as he keeps his gaze training on you before slowly putting his weapon away and continuing to fix himself up.

“I don’t need your help.” He says and you roll your eyes turning away and looking at the small creature sitting on a pile of blankets from his carrier his round eyes watching the flames dance in front of him. “Hey.” The hunter calls out and you turn looking over at him in his hands bacta spray and bandages. You scoff looking away and wrapping your arms around your knees.

“Hey!” He calls out moving closer and you turn more away from him, “You need to get patched up or it’s going to get infected.” You look over your shoulder glaring at him.

“I don’t need your help.” You mock his own words back at him and you could feel the annoyance and anger coming through his helmet aimed at you. You let out a shriek when his hand wraps around your arm spinning you around to face him, his gloved hand grasping your jaw holding you in place when you try moving back, “Let me go.” You push against his chest but he doesn’t budge.

He glares at you and you could feel the cool gaze staring back at the metal helmet making your movements come to a stop. He nods before beginning to clean the cut on your cheek before moving to one of your temples. You hiss out in pain when he presses too hard on the wound putting the bacta spray on.

“Would’ve been worse if you didn’t dodge,” He comments when you glare at him in pain, he continues tending to the injury, “Where did you learn to fight like that.” The stoic voice asks finishing pulling back and you bring your hand up touching the bandaged cheek and temple.

“Tatooine,” You say picturing your home the dunes of sands, the shouts of Tuskan Raiders, the wind in your hair on the speeder bikes, and the dual suns that made the perfect sunsets on the best days. “You fight to survive when you don’t got much…I have..had a pretty good teacher back home.” You correct yourself, were you ever going to go home or was this bounty hunter just going to cart you off to whoever wanted you? He nods looking down at his chest plate to fix it. Silence fills the quiet night as you look forward poking at the fire to keep it alive before glancing at the Mandalorian before you speak up.

“I want to thank you…for everything,” You say and you see him pause in his fixing, “You could’ve killed me and the child but you didn’t. I’ve only heard stories about your kind so I don’t know if it’s a religious thing or you're just different.” You quiet feeling embarrassed saying all that but one thought had been plaguing your mind.

“Are you…are you going to bring us home? The child and I?” The mask of his hides his face and anything you would be able to tell, his body language didn’t reveal anything and you couldn’t see his emotions through the metal.

“Yeah, kid…you should try to get some sleep.” He responds, his words bringing hope to believe this stranger. Fixing the child in his carrier asleep for a while before settling against the cool sands the night sky and the stars looking down at you. Whispers of sleep and dreams lull you and the Mandalorian hears a brief mumble from you,

“My name’s Y/n.”

The morning soon arrived and you were up following the hunter to what you assumed was his ship. Walking over the ridge there was his ship but it was getting dismantled by Jawas, creatures you were familiar with on Tatooine. Their large sandcrawler beside the ship loading the scraps.

“Dammit,” The bounty hunter huffs pulling his rifle from his back and laying down on the ridge looking down on the ship and taking aim.

“Wait what are you doing?” Your words are cut off as a beam is sent out hitting one of the jawas disintegrating it. The death of one of its kind sends them into a frenzy trying to run back to the ship as he continues to take out more. He quickly stands sliding down the ridge chasing after them as you and the child follow after him.

“You’re not going to be able to chase after a sandcrawler!” You yell out as he runs after it not before shouting back at you,

“Stay there!” He orders before you freeze watching him disappear with the sandcrawler leaving the two of you by the ship. It had been a while and he hadn’t returned neither did the sandcrawler.

“Kriff come on!” You say setting off after the bounty hunter the child following after you. Following the tracks of the large fortress before you stumble open a body laying along the ground recognizing the Mandalorian helmet. “Oh, maker please don’t be dead.” You say hovering over him, you debate taking off his helmet to see if he was breathing or hand a pulse. Your hands reach for the edge of the helmet ready to pull it off when he shoots up the strong metal colliding with your face making you fall back clutching your nose.

“Kriff! Dammit, that kriffing hurts!” You blink away the tears putting light touches against your nose trying to feel if it was broken. His helmet had to be built with a strong metal cause that hurt a lot. The hunter sits up groaning from his own pain of being electrocuted and kicked off a sandcrawler, “You’re a real asshole, stupid bounty hunter, stupid helmet.” You ramble off pushing yourself to stand your nose throbbing in pain and your head ringing.

He groans pushing himself to stand, “If it’s not broken then you’re fine.” He slings his rifle over his shoulder his body sore as the three of you return to his ship. You and the child sit against some rocks watching the hunter taking in the damage to the ship, he returns from inside the ship and you give him a look. He ignores it and begins to walk back into the desert. Having no choice but to follow, you walked through the dunes and plains the sun beating down on you. How was he not sweating in that armor? Your travels had the sun setting behind you and in the distance, you could see a structure. Growing closer you see it’s a moisture farm and there was a man fixing something.

“This is supposed to fix your ship,” You comment and he doesn’t acknowledge you walking over to the man who looks surprised to see him. You quickly learn the man’s name to be Kuiil as he brought you into his home feeding you the sun had long set the night here.

The Mandalorian stands beside Kuiil the two watching the child watching a frog with much interest chasing after it.

“I thought you were dead.” Kuiil says to Mando as they both watched the child playing with the frog, “These are what was causing all the fuss?” The two look away from the child to the girl, you were leaned against a crate a knife in your hand twisting it in your grasp. You meet his gaze glaring at him making Kuiil laugh. Mando looks down at his boot seeing his blade gone. How did he not notice you took it?

“She certainly doesn’t like you,” Kuiil says and the bounty hunter is silent watching you before turning away.

“I think that one is a child.” He says the child grabs the frog that he was playing with. Kuiil nods looking at the two bounties, “It is better for them to be delivered alive then,”

The bounty hunter shakes his head the problem coming up, “My ship has been destroyed. I’m trapped here.” He had been close to his fight with the Jawas before they gained the upper hand

“Stripped. Not destroyed. The Jawas steal. They don’t destroy.” Kuiil explains and the bounty hunter scoffs,

“Stolen or destroyed- makes no difference to me.” He retorted, frowning remembering what those little cloaked freaks did to his ship, “They’re protected by their crawling fortress. There is no way to recover the parts.”

“You can trade,” Kuiil suggested and the hunter looks at him like he grew three heads.

“With Jawas? Are you out of your mind?”

The older man nods his idea final, “I will take you to them. I have spoken.” They hear fussing and the child is shoving the frog into his mouth to begin devouring.

“Hey! Spit that out,” Mando called out and the Child swallowed the frog whole making you gag as you watch the whole interaction. The night had been spent traveling you had gained a cloak to protect yourself from the rain and by the time it was the day you had arrived at the sandcrawler.

Kuiil climbs off his blurrg leaving the three of you to watch as he greets the Jawas in their language. He turns looking back at the three of you mainly at the bounty hunter, “They really don’t like you for some reason.”

“Well, I did disintegrate a few of them.” The hunter brings up and you could hear the angry noises coming from the cloaked people. His hand instinctively goes to his rifle as a fight almost brews. Kuiil holds out his arm giving a pointed look to the hunter, “You need to drop your rifle.”

“I’m a Mandalorian. Weapons are part of my religion.” He refuses.

“Your religion is about to get us killed.” You hiss at the bounty hunter who glares back at you.

“Then you’re not getting your parts back.” Kuiil says giving the final ultimatum. The Mandalorian sighs putting his rifle down and climbing off the sled. “And the blaster.” He sighs removing that as well. You go to follow him when he points at you.

“Stay.” He says and your jaw drops, you weren't some animal, “And don’t touch my stuff you’re not doing that again,” The memory of him forcing you to return the blade is still fresh in your head. Maybe he should be more careful of his items. You roll your eyes sitting back down with the child watching the conversation.

Kuiil listens to the Jawa before turning to the Mandalorian, “They will trade all the parts for the beskar.” He shakes his head blowing up in anger pointing at them,

“I’m not gonna trade anything. These are my parts. They stole them from me.” He says “They, they….belong to me!” He speaks Jawa though it’s truly bad and you stifle your laughter.

“You speak terrible Jawa. You sound like a Wookiee.” One of the Jawa says and he loses his temper swiping his hand out with his flamethrower making them all yell out.

“You understand this?!” “No! Whoa, easy, easy.” Kuiil quickly diffused the fight before speaking to the Jawa, “He is Mandalorian. He cannot give you his beskar armor. What else may he trade?”

You hadn’t noticed some Jawas coming by the sled until they were inspecting the child’s carrier and poking you with their staff.

“Hey! Stop it get away.” You stand up shouting at them in Jawa alerting the bounty hunter who stands up.

“Get away from them!” He shouts and they scatter away from the two of you.

“There must be something else,” Kuiil says and the Jawas turn to discuss amongst themselves before turning around.

“We will require The Egg. Bring us The Egg.” It says and your hunter looks confused, “The Egg? What Egg?” You were confused as well as Kuiil groaned facepalming as the Jawas continue to chant.

The Jawas allow you all to travel by sandcrawler before you arrive at a series of rocky formations. The three of you minus Kuiil dismount and begin to walk through the rock formations toward an open clearing leading to a cave. “Shouldn’t I have a weapon in case you fail or something?” You bring up and he glares at you ignoring your request leaving you and the child to watch him venture inside the cave. It’s silent for a bit before a loud roar comes from the cave and out comes the Mandalorian and a large mudhorn. You watch him fire blast at the creature before reloading his weapon and the creature charges throwing him against the mud.

“Not doing so well!” You shout at him which draws the attention of the beast who charges at you and the child, “Crap!” You shout rolling out of the way mud covers your knees and arms as the child’s carrier dodges in the other direction. The mudhorn turns ready to charge again when flames unleash burning it. It tries retreating back to its den but he latches onto it with a grappling line around the horns. Shaking him aside attacking with said horns and hooves to the ground. It goes to stop down at him you rushing forward when the creature suspends in midair. A feeling you hadn’t felt in a while covers your skin as your hand whips around to look at the child its tiny hand held out. You hear the sound of the blade driving into flesh but your attention is focused on the small creature.

The Mandalorian slowly approaches the child seeing the look of slight fear on your face looking down at the child before it collapses in its cradle asleep. His gaze shifts to yours, your face seems plain but he could see the fear in your eyes that you were trying to hide. He turns walking back into the cave and returning with the egg. You had arrived back at the sandcrawler with the egg the Jawas rejoiced taking it and cutting it open devouring the insides.

“Mando!” Kuiil calls out to the bounty hunter.

“I’m surprised you waited?” Mando says and Kuiil nods looking at him,

“I’m surprised you took so long,” Kuiil says and the Jawas quickly prepare the sled with the parts of his ship. Then you were back off to the ship. You were sat in the back with the parts of the child’s carrier resting beside you as you look out on the horizon. You could hear their conversation but chose to ignore it, your mind more focused on what you had witnessed. You hadn’t imagined it you had truly seen it with your own eyes. That feeling that rushed over you had opened up something that had been locked up in fear. As you look down at this child you could feel a connection form.

The child was still asleep when you arrived at the dismantled ship, “There is no way we're gonna get this to work without a full maintenance facility. This is gonna take days to fix.” Mando says looking over the wrecked ship.

“If you care to help it might go faster. There is much work to do.” Kuiil says ready to begin the repairs. The night continues over you all as the two repairs the ship. Your head is deep in wires in the cockpit the fusion cutter grasp in your mouth as you moved cables around. Maker, this whole ship was a mess, did he purposely want a ship that was slow? As you go to move another wire, you feel hands grab your legs pulling out from the open panel and you look up to see Mando glaring down at you.

“Why are you touching my ship?” He growls out, were you tampering with it to make this harder for him? You scoff pushing him away from you and crawling back to the open panel.

You ramble off fixing the wiring but it would just be easier to get an entirely new ship. “More like fixing, like how could you allow it to get like this! Your hyperdrive is so outdated that makes you two times slower than most ships. Then there are the core processes and your sensor systems dying on you. Your better off selling this hunk of junk and getting something that’s not Pre-Galactic, hey!” His hands grab your legs again pulling you out of the panel but you were already done. He pulls you up to your feet pushing you down to a seat.

“Stop touching things,” He snatches the fusion cutter, “Just don’t even move.” He glares at you which you equally return. He steps back before turning his back from you and heading down out of the cockpit. You cross your arms settling in, maker what an asshole.

Mando sighs the last of the repairs are finished having repaired or fully restored the ship’s systems and parts. He turns looking down at Kuiil, “I can't thank you enough. Please allow me to give you a portion of the reward.” He says and the man shakes his head.

“I cannot accept. You are my guest, and I am therefore in your service.” He shakes his head and Mando nods looking at the ship,

“I could use a crew member of your ability. And I can pay handsomely.” He offers but Kuiil refuses.

“I am honored. But I have worked a lifetime to finally be free of servitude.” Kuiil says and Mando nods moving towards his ship as Kuiil mounts his blurrg. “I understand. Then all I can offer is my thanks.” Mando says.

“And I offer mine. Thank you for bringing peace to my valley and good luck with those two. May they survive and bring you a handsome reward. I have spoken.” Kuiil watches as the Mandalorian enters his ship sitting in the pilot's seat his two bounties beside him, the child was asleep in his cradle and you were leaning against the wall in your chair your eyes closed. He fires up the engines of the Razor Crest is roaring to life as he takes off leaving the planet behind.

To Nevarro.

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian #clan of three series #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #mando x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x jedi!reader #din djarin x teen!reader

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daughterofthequeen · 1 year

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Y’all I really can’t get over Dins desperate “no” when he got separated from trying to save Grogu in the finale, like every time I hear it, I just have the feeling to break down in a corner (but grogus little mad face was so cute when he stopped the guards from electrocuting Din and that aggressive button press and that slide Din did while shooting Gideon😂🤭)

#star wars x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x teen!reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x you #the mandalorian season 3 #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorion spoilers #star wars fanfiction #star wars x you #star wars #star wars x y/n

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anonymousewrites · 6 months

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Clan of Three Halloween Special 2023

Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader

“Why don’t you have to dress up to blend in?” grumbled (Y/N), hands on their hips.

Mando sighed as he put Grogu down in the ship and closed the hatch. “Because these people don’t know what a Mandalorian is, and they’re having a festival where they dress up in masks and costumes. I fit in. You don’t.”

“What I’m dressing up as, again?” asked (Y/N) as they picked up the bundled outfit.

“Some sort of hunter spirit. That’s what the lord’s wife told me it was,” said Mando.

(Y/N) nodded and stepped around behind a wall to change quickly while reviewing the details of the job. “What exactly is the point of our job here?”

“We need funds, and since we have a good track record, Bo-Katan and the Armorer sent us on a job since a neighboring planet reached out,” said Mando. “There was an attempted assassination of one of their lords, so his wife hired us to hunt down the suspect. His puck tracked him to this festival.”

“That’s a lot of area to cover,” said (Y/N). “Let’s just find him quickly.”

“Can’t you use your Force-powers to track him down?” asked Mando, waving a hand in the way they usually did.

(Y/N) stepped out, dressed in costume. “Yeah, that’s not really how that works. And don’t ask me how it does since I don’t really know either. I just go with whatever my gut tells me and that seems to be it.”

Mando stared at (Y/N) in the costume. It was just a dark orange cloak slung around their shoulders, but the helmet-mask on their head was what shook Mando. It reminded him of a Mandalorian helmet, and as (Y/N) stared at him from behind the visor, he remembered just how deep their connection to Mandalore went. Mandalore the Great themself had chosen (Y/N), guided them, advised them.

And although Mando would never force (Y/N) to permanently wear the helmet as the people of his Covert did, he had thought about them wearing more Mandalorian armor in the way Bo-Katan did, not always covering their face but clearly a member of the clan. His clan. Din (Y/N).

Mando smiled beneath his helmet at (Y/N) looking so Mandalorian. That was his kid, ready to fight for Mandalore just as usual, closer to wearing their armor. Honestly, Mando thought they should be given armor already since they were clearly more than an apprentice, but he wouldn’t argue with the Armor. (Though, seriously, (Y/N) had wielded the Darksaber, had visions of Mandalore the Great, and defeated Moff Gideon to protect Mandalore. What more did anyone want? His kid was incredible).

“Are we ready to go, Dad?” asked (Y/N), making sure their beskar dagger and blaster were accessible.

Mando nodded, stopping his train of thought. (Y/N) would always be something of an anomaly, and he knew that. But they were his kid. That was the important part. “Come on. We should finish this job quickly before the assassin causes any trouble during the festivities.”

“I could sneak up on them and grab them before they see your shiny armor coming,” said (Y/N) brightly.

“No, I take point.” Mando was still strict on that. “You’re there if he runs.”

(Y/N) scowled beneath their helmet. “I fought Moff Gideon. Why do I have to play backup?”

“Because you still run into danger without thinking,” said Mando matter-of-factly.

(Y/N) shrugged. He wasn’t wrong. (Y/N)’s instincts just threw them into battle faster than their brain could think (at least, that was their interpretation of what Mando would call plain old recklessness).

Mando’s visor blinked to alert him as he approached the puck tracking the would-be assassin. He wore a grey tunic and mask to blend in, but once Mando found his target, they didn’t escape his sight. That being said, he had lost sight of (Y/N). He really needed to put a tracker on his kid.

Mando stepped out of the shadows and approached the assassin. The man turned into an alley, and Mando followed him. The moment he stepped foot into the alleyway, the assassin pivoted and drew a blaster.

“Don’t move or I shoot,” warned the assassin. He knew he was being hunted.

Mando really didn’t care. His beskar could take a hit, so although he dodged the first shot the assassin launched at him, he wasn’t afraid to get close. He fired a grappling dart from his gauntlet and pulled the assassin towards him, punching at the man. The assassin, however, was skilled at fighting, and the moment he was tugged towards Mando, he flicked out a dagger and cut himself loose. He evaded the attack and stabbed down at Mando’s arm, and Mando twisted to avoid it. When the assassin pivoted and effortlessly moved the blade towards the split in Mando’s armor between plates, Mando stepped back. He grabbed for his own blaster, raised it, and—

A blur of umber orange landed on the assassin.

The man grunted and fell to the ground before rolling away to his feet. (Y/N) was on their feet in the same instant, and when the assassin grabbed for his blaster, (Y/N) threw out a hand. It flew through the air, and in the moment the assassin stared in surprise, (Y/N) threw their dagger, and it landed in his dominant arm. He cried out at the sudden pain, and the moment of distraction was all Mando needed to grab him and punch him squarely, knocking him out. He let the assassin’s body fall to the dirt before looking at (Y/N).

They could tell he was giving them a dad look from behind the helmet. They shrugged.

“I let you take point. Then I decided to intervene,” they said.

Mando sighed. (Y/N) was going to kill him with stress.

(Y/N) put down the case of payment in the ship and grinned. “Bo-Katan and the Armorer will be happy.”

“Yes,” agreed Mando, picking up Grogu and letting him pat his helmet to say hello after leaving him for the job.

(Y/N) waved at their brother before pulling off the cloak and then the helmet of their costume. They shook their head and let their hair fall messily around them face. They grinned at him. “And I’m glad we’re back out on jobs together. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Mandalore needs the rebuilding and everything, but I don’t think I’m much cut out for the politics of it all.”

And yet you gave Mandalore guidance when it needed it most and were chosen by one of the greatest Mandalorians of all time for…something, thought Mando. For being so bright at times, (Y/N) really didn’t seem to understand how special they were.

“As long as you stay alive, you’ll do fine,” said Mando.

“Death has to try harder than it has to get me,” said (Y/N), grinning and leaning into their dad.

Mando put an arm around them and held them for a moment. “Please don’t tempt death. I don’t want to lose you.”

(Y/N) paused and looked up at him. “You won’t lose me. We’re family, remember?”

Mando smiled beneath his helmet. (Y/N) was a good Mandalorian now and would become an even greater one in the future. But above all of that, he liked them being his kid the most. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way.”

Taglist:

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@alexpangender

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@treehouse-mouse

@theurbannoodle

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@dmitrytherat

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