Din Djarin doesn't remember the last time he felt the sun.
Sure, he can feel it through the suit in a way. It burns through the leather of his gloves, seeps between the gaps in his armor and leaves his skin damp beneath it. Heat latches onto beskar and builds on its surface until it's hot to the touch.
No, he doesn't remember the last time he felt it on his skin. The last time his eyes had to blink to adjust to its glare. The last time he basked in its glow and was completely vulnerable to its power.
He can almost take himself there, pull from memories of his childhood when he would lay against lush grass and soak in it's wonder. He can never quite capture it though, something is always missing. The warmth.
Nothing can manufacture it.
Not lowering the polarization on his visor. Not the relief that comes everytime he takes off his chest plate. Even in the rare moments without armor, when he turns the heat all the way up in the fresher and stands beneath it's wash until his skin burns. it still doesn't feel the same.
When he was a younger man, when he was most dedicated to his creed, he didn't think about it.
No, there was nothing he missed that couldn't be outweighed by a simple, self righteous reminder that this is the way.
The he met you, and for the first time he doesn't even know how many years, Din Djarin felt he Sun.
He met you almost a full orbit ago, a perfectly unremarkable engineer in need of a job. One Peli had vouched for over comms. Promising that while she wasn't around to help with his usual repairs, she trusted you enough to handle them.
'Handle you,' were her exact words. She'd laughed at the end, as if there was joke he wasn't privy too. He hadn't though much of it until he actually met you.
Until he landed in your port and watched as a pair of overalls and grease stains rolled out from beneath a speeder that's probably older than you are.
Until you approached him without hesitation, wiping grime from your palm before offering it in a fearless handshake.
Until you tilted your chin up and smiled.
Until you made eye contact without even trying, and Din finally felt it wash over him again.
That warmth.
It settles under his armor like a second skin, grows hotter when you kneel down to the kids height and coo something sweet.
Slowly, it festers.
A burning that covers every inch of his skin until it eventually becomes part of him. An ache in his stomach each time he finds you and the kid asleep in the copilots chair, big green ears fanned over your chest and both of your mouths open in a matching snore.
A sting in his chest when he catches your silhouette in the fresher door, frosted glass teasing him with curves he knows better than to covet.
A tightness in his pants when you use his blaster, a quick and precise hit after you realized someone was following the three of you on Canto Bight. You'd grabbed it from his hip without asking, stopped in your tracks and turned your body just enough to fire one devastating shot.
That last one haunts him often.
At night, when he's resting in the cockpit and you and the kid are downstairs. When his eyelids drift down and block his visor, so often he see it again. The scene replaying itself over and over.
So used to doing the shooting Din can't seem to figure out what he's supposed to do when someone shoots for him.
The next time he holds his blaster, he sees your hand around it, how you had to choke up towards the barrel to reach the trigger. He stares uselessly at it in his palm while his mind fills in the gaps. Quick math on how your hands would fit together clouding his better thoughts.
Din doesn't know why he asked you to travel with him. Sure, he can rattle of all the practical reasons until his modulator gives out. But none of them are enough, none of them erase the years of refusal and isolation. No matter how hard he tries, he can't find a reason why he needs you.
When he crawls down the ladder, finds you asleep on his cot with his son on your chest, he gets his answer.
Warnings: Slavery/Capture/Forced servitude, surprise, confusion, hurt, Removing the helmet, death threats, lost love, flashbacks, sex in the dark, flirting, oral (female receiving), vaginal sex, cream pie, trust, cock riding, fighting, creatures, death, reassurance, professions of love, Mandalorian vows
Comments: When Mando walks into the Hutt hall, he never imagined to find you there. The woman who disappeared years ago, leaving him alone. He thought you had left him, only to find that you had been abducted and sold to slavers. Finally seeing his face for the first time when his helmet is removed on orders of the Hutt Twins.
A/N: This is COMPLETELY inaccurate to the movie! We saw the trailer and decided on a story. I saw the movie on Friday and it's totally wrong, but who cares? 😂 Written before we saw the movie.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says ’creator chooses not to use warnings’. You also agree that you’re the right age to be consuming anything here.
The dry, evil laughter of the giant slugs makes you shudder, although the temperature in the room where they preferred to receive visitors was hot. Good for you, considering your daily outfit consisted of barely anything, the Hutts enjoyed dressing their slave women in nothing more than scraps of fabric and metal that doesn’t cover more than your nipples and the folds of your sex. You’re surprised they even allowed the panel that drapes between your legs but you’re sure that’s because it’s a hindrance when trying to run away. You found that out first hand when you saw a pale purple Twi’lek try to run and get her legs tangled. The chain around her neck didn’t help either. You bite your lip, shifting slightly because you don’t know what they are laughing about, you had been thinking back to a much better time, disassociating from the reality of your life now and you hadn’t been paying attention. The rattle of your chain makes Rotta’s eyes shift towards you and you swallow harshly, but the doors to the great hall open right at that moment.
Your body freezes when you see the armor, the helmet. A Mandalorian. You gasp quietly because you had once known a Mandalorian, although his armor was much different. Din.
Din strides into the hall, prepared to face the Hutts, and prepared to watch his back every single moment. He focuses on the twins sitting on the platform, their disgusting forms makes his nose wrinkle, and as he gets closer, he's grateful for his helmet to conceal the smell that others say is vile. "Ah Mandalorian." Rotta greets him and he nods, letting his gaze drift for a moment and he is once again grateful for his helmet when his eyes land on their latest victim. He'd recognize you anywhere, even dressed in scraps of fabric with chains around your limbs. He bites his lip to stop himself from saying your name.
“Mando.” The gravelly voice of the other Hutt is smug, as if she knows something that holds power over the Mandalorian. You don’t get your hopes up, because it’s not your Mando. The helmet looks the same, but when you had asked Din about his armor, he had told you that the helmet was the only new piece he had. Everything else had been scrapped from fallen Mandalorian’s when he had taken the Creed. “I’m not working for you.” The Mandalorian rasps out and you gasp. The voice. Even if you can’t see his face, because you’ve never seen his face, his voice is the one you hear in your dreams. “Mando.” You whisper, realizing that the man standing in front of you is the same man that you had been with the day you had been kidnapped by the Hutts seven years ago.
His jaw is clenched and he’s grateful the Hutt cannot see his reaction but he cannot let it show in other ways that he knows you otherwise you’ll be leverage. He ignores you, “your cousin?” He redirects the conversation and Rotta chuckles, tugging on your chain to bring you closer until you are leaning into him. “Do you know this Mandalorian?” He asks you, turning to press his tongue to your cheek to see if the Mandalorian reacts.
You cringe and try to shy away from the wet, slimy muscle but the chain around your neck collar is pulled tight and you are helpless to move. “No.” You gasp out. “I have seen Mandalorians before.” You lie. “This is not the man I knew.” You think back to the last time you had felt him. The lights had been powered down even though his helmet had still been on. The armor was removed and the flightsuit stripped down. You had left the comfort of his embrace to go find breakfast for you both, only to never return.
Rotta hums, loosening his grip on the chain and Din has to consciously try to not clench his fists in fury. The memory of you not coming back haunts him. He thought he wasn’t enough for you, that you had run away, and it destroyed him. He thought you would be his riduur one day but you had disappeared and he thought you didn’t want him anymore. It had hurt but it hurts even more to see you end up here. You look tired and hungry, making him frown under the helmet. “I have come here to inform you that I will not be retrieving your cousin.” He announces, knowing this will anger the Hutts but he promised he would not work for gangsters anymore.
You wince, knowing that they will not like that. You think Mando’s eyes are on you, but you can’t tell. Not like it had been years ago when you could sense every time he looked at you under that helmet. Rotta growls and you shrink back slightly.
“You dare to defy me, Mando?” He hisses and his guards surge forward. Din spins around, aiming his blaster at them but they wrap a steel rope around his wrist. His free hand reaches for his other blaster, getting a couple of shots in until he is restrained on both arms and forced to kneel in front of Rotta.
You have to bite your lip from making a sound, knowing that the Hutts are suspicious now, not wanting to give them any ammunition. Rotta gives an order in Huttese and the guards reach for the edge of Mando’s helmet. “Nooooo!” You scream out, rushing forward to stop them only to be yanked back by the chain. Your earlier caution is thrown to the wind because you know how seriously Din takes his vow that no one sees his face.
He growls when the helmet is removed from his head and his eyes immediately meet yours, seeing the shock and horror on your face. He clenches his jaw, furious that the vow he tried so hard to redeem has been shattered once again. “Bring me his helmet.” Rotta orders and his guard brings the beskar to him. “Mandalorian steel. Priceless on the black market.” He holds the helmet and you cannot stop staring at Din. His twin smirks, “but what’s even more is knowing we have shamed you forever.” Rotta nods, “we know the Mandalorian creed. You will be outcast forever. Cast out for letting an enemy see your face.” You squeak and Rotta tugs on your chains again. Din’s eyes narrow as he glares at the twins, “not if you all die.” With a chuckle, the Hutt twin smirks, “it will give us great pleasure to see your spirit die. Even more pleasure to have your girlfriend watch it.” He presses his tongue to yours once again, “she’s so sweet but I’m sure you knew that.” Din doesn’t tug on his restraints, knowing that will give them satisfaction. “Put him in the pit!” Rotta orders, the grate to the pit opening slowly.
You hate what’s about to come. Din has always been a good fighter, but he is no match for the creature in the pit. You can’t help but stare at the face of the man you have loved, even while in captivity. His eyes are hard, angry as he stares at the Hutts. There’s no fear, no worry. Just hatred. Until they shift to you for a moment and something softer flashes over his face before he looks back at them again. “Since you have seen my face, you will die.” He growls.
The Hutt twins chuckle, deep and evil, and the guards grab Din, cutting the steel ropes before they push him into the pit. “Noooo!” You cry, falling to your knees and the Hutt twins laugh. Din lands on his back, winding him for a moment, and he scrambles onto his knees to catch his breath. “Dank ferik.” He growls, realizing he’s without his blasters but he thankfully still has his knife. A growl echoes from the darkness and he braces himself, watching the beast appear in front of him. He tilts his head, looking up at the creature and he swallows harshly.
****
“Hey sexy.” You grin as you lean against the side panel of the ship, watching as his back straightens and the silver helmet turns towards you. The spanner in his hand almost looks like a weapon, and the curses have stopped since he’s not working on fixing the hyper drive. “Want to take a break? You’ve been working all morning. I’ve made you some soup. It’s in the galley. I’ve already eaten and am planning on removing all my clothes and sliding into the bunk. What you do is completely up to you.” You wink playfully at him.
It’s an invitation Din is unable to refuse and he smirks under his helmet. “Go get ready and I’ll eat. Soup first though.” He teases, voice modulated, and you giggle, swaying your hips as you disappear. He sets his spanner down, rolling his shoulders, and he straightens to make his way to the galley. He should eat first and he knows you wouldn’t sneak up on him as he lifts his helmet to sip the soup you had made. After using the fresher, he strips down to just his flight suit and helmet, making his way to the bunk. “Someone is eager.” He comments as he finds you naked, legs open with your fingers already grazing your clit.
“Yes I am.” You don’t deny it, not when just the thought of Din touching you is enough to soak your folds with arousal. “Are you Mando or Din?” You tease, knowing sometimes he likes to be a bit rougher, as if you were prey he had been hunting. Fresh off working with Ran and his crew, you had understood he had done some dark things. You don’t care though, he’s good to you.
“Mando.” His voice is raspy, even more so with the modulator, and he pulls down the zipper of his flight suit. “Keep touching yourself, mesh’la.” He demands, shrugging off the suit to expose his hardening cock. “It might be all you get if you’re not a good girl.” He warns, kicking the suit aside to stand naked before you except for his helmet.
“I’ll be good for you.” You promise, eyes greedy as you drink in his scar riddled skin. Places where the armor hadn’t covered him, proof of the violence that is prone to following him. He’s strong, virile, sexy, even if you have no idea what color eyes he has or if his hair curls like the short hairs that are surrounding his thick cock. “Or bad if you want me to be.” You smirk as you roll onto your stomach so he can see your ass, but the fingers rubbing your clit are now out of sight.
He growls, unable to stop himself from smacking your ass and your squeal makes him chuckle. “You’re already being bad.” He reaches for the panel, turning off the light to leave you in darkness. “Mando.” You whine and within a moment, your whine turns into a squeal as he grabs your hips and pulls you back and up to bury his face into your folds.
“Fuuuuuuuck.” Your eyes roll back in the darkness, pussy clenching around nothing but his tongue as he pushes it inside you. “Mando.” You pant out, loving how filthy he is. Despite never being able to see his face, the man is a better lover than anyone you’ve ever had. “Baby, fuck, you are so good to me.”
He groans into you, loving the way you taste and you never push for more. You take what he gives you and he loves that. You squeal when he pushes his tongue into your cunt, nose pressing into your puckered hole as his fingers squeeze your ass to open you up for him.
Mando growls into you, his pace sloppy and needy. Obviously needing this as much as you do. He craves touch, taste. He loves when you let him do whatever he wants and you love to let him. “Thought about you all morning.” You gasp out. “Watching you work. Imagining you fucking me as I was bent over the panel access.”
His chuckle is absorbed by your flesh as he flicks his tongue over your clit, “I was imagining fucking your throat while I was trying to fix the panel.” He confesses with a deep inhale, “now you’re going to be a good girl and cum like this.” He surges back into your flesh, wanting to feel you fall apart.
You moan softly, rocking back to meet his eager tongue, knowing that he won’t stop until he makes you scream in pleasure. Your fingers curl into the sheets of the bunk and hold on as he takes you apart. “Oh fuck, oh fuck baby.” You whimper
He groans, needing you to cum for him, and he moans when you rock back, moaning his name as you fall apart on his tongue. He’s greedy for every drop, moaning when you blindly reach back to grip his hair, keeping him pressed into your pussy to ride the aftermath of your orgasm.
When he finally pulls back, you can hear the smacking of his lips, groaning happily at the taste of you on his tongue. “How do you want me?” You demand breathlessly. “I need you inside me, Mando.”
“Stay where you are.” He demands, wanting to fuck you like this first. “You’re such a fucking tease. Wearing those tight flight suits and fluttering your eyelashes at me while I’m trying to concentrate.” He growls as he grips his cock, pumping himself a couple of times until he pushes into your quivering pussy, groaning at how wet you are.
You gasp, rocking forward as you take him to the hilt. “Fuck. Your cock is so thick.” You whine, making him chuckle as he grinds deep into your body. His fingers dig into the flesh at your hips. “You take me so well, Mesh’la.” He coos, his unmodulated voice always making your walls flutter in pleasure. He’s vulnerable with you, giving you as much of himself as he can while holding true to his religion. You would never ask him for more, even if you are curious about what he looks like, you don’t ask. “Made for you.” You agree.
“Mine.” He grunts, knowing he wants you to be his riduur one day soon. He just needs to wait for the right time. “Fuck. So tight around me. You feel so goddamn good. Maker.” He hisses, smacking your ass again and he squeezes your flesh.
“So good.” You cry out, lurching forward only to be pulled back and he pushes deep. “Yours.” You promise with a gasp that fills the sleeping quarters. “Din-“ his hand comes down on your ass again. “Mando.” He growls, thrusting deep. “Yes, yes! Mando!”
He can tell you’re close. He needs to feel it so he slides his hand under your stomach, rubbing your clit, and he groans when you clench around him. “That’s it. Want to feel you cum for me, mesh’la.” He demands gruffly, “I know you can do it.”
You whine in agreement, knowing that he wants you to cum before he does. He always wants you to cum. “Maker, I’m so close.” You pant, collapsing to press your face against the cool sheet. You close your eyes as he rolls into you again and again. He is throbbing inside you and the next thrust is deep and hard, pushing you over the edge with a cry.
When you fall apart, he thrusts two more times, pulling free of your clenching cunt to stop himself from falling apart so quickly. You whine at the sudden emptiness and he chuckles, “so fucking desperate.” He smacks your ass, “on your back.” He demands, wanting to be able to kiss you when he fills you up.
You roll over and spread your legs as he shuffles to hover over you. “Hurry up.” You demand. “I don’t like being empty.” He chuckles and your hands slide up his biceps in the dark.
He can’t see but he grips his cock, pushing into you with a low groan as he ducks down to kiss you. His nose hits yours and you giggle, cupping his cheeks to bring his lips to yours. He wastes no time sliding his tongue into your mouth, starting to rock into you.
You love kissing him. You get to touch him. You don’t explore his face with your fingers like you want to, but you get to cup his cheeks, to kiss his lips. You moan into his mouth as you wrap your legs around his waist, rocking up to meet his thrusts.
This is more tender, his feelings for you bleeding through his persona as he transitions from Mando to Din. He slides his tongue into your mouth, working into a quicker rhythm and he wants you to fall apart one more time.
You feel the urgency under the tenderness. The way that his hips snap and rock you both up on the bunk. You moan and kiss him back, your short nails digging half crescent indentions into his skin to remember you by when he’s back in his armor and seemingly untouchable.
He loves how you mark him in your own way, taking what you want from him, and he hisses your name as he rocks into you. “Fuck. You feel so good.” He pants against your chin, “I want you to cum again. One more time.”
“Cum with me.” You beg, kissing along his cheek and back to his lips as he lifts back up to kiss you. “‘m close baby. So fucking close.” You promise breathlessly. “Let go with me.”
You ask him so sweetly and how can he deny you? “Gonna - please, cyar’ika. Cum with me.” He pleads against your lips, cock twitching as he is on the edge. He can’t hold off anymore and his breath puffs against your lips as he pushes his cock deep, throbbing inside you as he starts to paint your walls with rope after rope of hot cum.
You do cum with him, the way he tenses and hardens even more inside you pushes you over the edge. Walls squeezing him tight while you choke out his name, “Din!” while falling apart under him. It’s perfect and you hum when you start to come down, relaxed and giggling quietly over how perfect everything is.
He sighs, pressing kisses to your jaw and down your neck as he relaxes above you until he is shifting to lay down beside you after slowly pulling out of you. He drags you into his side, wanting to keep you close, “always so good.” He murmurs, wishing he could see you right now but he can’t.
You hum in agreement, settling down and enjoying the way your ear is pressed to his chest. His heartbeat starting to slow down. “The lights powered down all over the ship?” You ask, even though you know they are. He does that so you don’t accidentally see him on your way to the ‘fresher. “Yes, Mesh’la, go to sleep.” He murmurs, although he sounds far more sleepy than you. You smile in the dark and sigh. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.” You promise.
Din blinks as he wakes up, the lights in the bunk still off, and he reaches for his helmet. You are not in the bunk and he knows you shut the bunk door before turning on the lights. He grunts as he opens the hatch, shuffling to the fresher and he grabs a new flight suit when he’s cleaned up. The smell of food hits his nose and he groans, finding you with a fresh meal. “You went to get food?” He asks and you nod, “you should eat this while it’s hot. It’s delicious.” He hums and watches you, “I will.” He promises, grabbing the bowl and he turns his back to you, lifting his helmet to sip the broth.
You turn around, knowing that he wouldn’t mind, but you always want him to feel secure about his creed around you. “So as soon as we are done here we are headed to Tatooine?” You ask, lifting a brow. “People are always so odd around there.” You comment. Din is still eating and you take a bite of your own meal. “Still, I like it better than freezing my ass off on some of these planets.”
He snorts, knowing you are not a fan of Hoth, and he finishes his meal quickly. He’s used to eating fast, needing to reposition his helmet and satiate his hunger when he’s on the move. You take your time, savouring your food, and when he’s situated, he turns to face you. “I’ll set the coordinates.” He slaps his knees and stands, not bothering with dressing in his beskar until you are getting ready to land.
“I’ll be here!” You call back as he disappears up the ladder. Grinning to yourself as you fork up another bite. “Fuck, I love that man.” You tell yourself quietly.
****
You peer over the edge of the pit, terrified that you are about to watch the man you’ve loved die. Hands curled into fists as the chain that ties to you Rotta’s large seat rattles, but you don’t look behind you. Right now, you’re afraid you might attack the giant slugs for what they have done and they will end up eating you. You don’t want to end up in their bellies.
Din looks up as the beast waddles towards him, and for a moment, he doesn’t think there’s much to be afraid of, until the bastard opens his mouth. Din’s eyes widen at the rows of teeth on display, “fuck.” He mutters, adjusting the grip on his knife as he faces down the creature. Rotta barks an order and the beast is poked from a grate in the way, making it roar, and its tail comes out to flick Din. The Mandalorian is sent flying back into the wall, winded by the move, and he chokes as he tries to catch his breath.
You shudder, trying not to show how terrified you are, but it doesn’t escape the giant slug behind you. He laughs as he tugs on the chain and sends you sprawling back from the ledge. “Do not try to rescue him.” Rotta huffs in his native language. “You both would die.”
Din manages to stand up, catching his breath, and he narrows his eyes. He surges forward, sinking his knife into the beast that roars and spins, sending Din flying but he engages his jet pack and lands on his feet. “Dank farrik.” He growls, flying towards the beast with knife in hand.
You can hear the battle below you, the splashing of the water and the roar of the beast, but you can’t see anything now. Fingers clawing at your throat, at the collar that is holding you back. Rotta laughs and yanks again, making you choke and gasp for air as it cuts off your breathing.
Din manages to get some jabs in but the beast is strong. It flings Din again, making stars burst behind his eyes as his head hits the wall of the pit. “Fuck.” He mutters, blinking a few times as he gathers his senses. He rushes forward again, stabbing the beast in the eye and it roars.
You choke out a cry when Rotta bellows in rage and yanks the chain again, dragging you closer to the giant slug. Your thigh drags along the floor, giving you a friction burn but you claw at the tiles, trying to grab hold of something to anchor yourself and fight against him.
“Fucking Maker.” Din huffs when the beast tries to fling him but he holds firm, making to get another jab in his eye. The beast roars and Din cuts the beast again and again until he manages to slit its jugular. Blood sprays from the beast and it falls to the ground with a growl, Din managing to roll free before he is squashed by its weight.
Rotta roars in displeasure but you don’t pay attention, black spots appearing in your vision and you feel yourself losing consciousness. “Din.” You gasp quietly, whisper before everything fades and there’s nothing.
“Mesh’la. Can you open your eyes for me?” Din’s voice sounds distant, like you’re underwater, and your head hurts. He caresses your cheek, “wake up. Want to see your pretty eyes.” He murmurs, quiet and he is worried that you aren’t going to wake up.
It takes a few moments before you start to stir. The quiet panic that had been welling in his chest settles when your eye lashes start to flutter before you open them slowly. The fog is present, the confusion as you blink away the darkness. The smoldering bodies of the guards he had slain are still smoking, the blaster wounds singed and the Hutt twins stench managed to be even more foul in death, but you don’t notice that when you look up and see Din staring down at you with worry lacing his eyes and sweat rolling down his cheek. His bare face up close and you gasp before you shut your eyes again, knowing you should not have seen him.
“Open your eyes.” He orders, wanting to see yours and he knows what you’re thinking. He has killed everyone else who saw his face except you. “Din. No. You’re - you’ll be shunned. You should’ve - you can if you need to.” You squeeze your eyes and he growls at what you are implying. “I didn’t give you all the options. When my helmet is removed, there’s only two ways to stop being dar’manda. One: kill the person who sees my face. Two: marry the woman who sees my face.” He confesses, “and killing you is not an option. I thought - I thought you left me. That morning - when you were gone.” He chokes and you don’t open your eyes yet.
****
“I love you.” You murmur to Din, kissing his shoulder and he doesn’t stir from his sleep as you shuffle from the bunk, closing the hatch before you fumble to turn on the light. You find it and clean up, dressing with a soft hum as you get ready to go find breakfast for you and your lover. Din blinks when he wakes, huffing when the bed feels cold and he grunts as he sits up, scratching his cheek. He grabs his helmet, putting it on his head, and then he opens the hatch, exposing his eyes to brightness that makes him wince through the visor. He calls your name and when you don’t respond, he doesn’t think much of it. You usually go and fetch breakfast. He cleans up and dresses, putting on his beskar, and he frowns when time drags. You’d usually be back by now. He makes his way to the ramp, hitting buttons to open the Crest and he walks outside, calling your name once more. No sign of you. Closing the Crest, his fingers flex over his blaster and he makes his way to town, deciding to search for you. When he exits the last store, the anger sets in. You’re gone. Disappeared. You’ve left him. He clenches his jaw, feeling his heart break in his chest and he rolls his shoulders, striding back to the Crest to forget you existed. He’d grown up to never trust anyone and he let you in, trusted you, and you broke that trust.
****
You slowly open your eyes again, focusing on him as he swallows harshly. The regret and hurt shining out of his dark eyes. “I would have never left you.” You can’t believe that it is him, but it’s the same voice, the same soft touch against your cheek. This is Din. “I- I was abducted when I was at the market.” You explain as you push up to your elbows. Din quickly adjusts to help you sit up, moving slowly as the room spins slightly. “Slavers. I was sold to Rotta.” You shudder slightly. “I waited and hoped you would find me.” He will blame himself for that, but he deserves to know. “For years, I had prayed that you would blast through those doors looking for me.”
His dark eyes sadden and he shakes his head slowly, “I was angry. I thought you’d left. No one in the market told me you’d been taken. I buried myself in bounties and then I met - well, there’s this kid. He was - the empire wanted him but I protected him and well, he’s my foundling. It’s a long story but he has the force. I left him with a Jedi and then I - I went back to distracting myself with bounties. I’m sorry I didn’t search for you. I was hurt, angry, and I thought - I thought you couldn’t handle my creed.”
You frown slightly, trying to follow his rambling explanation but your head hurts and you only catch the first and the last part of his long winded speech. “Never.” You almost reach for him, but you stop yourself, fingers curling back. Still unable to believe that you are looking at his face. “I never would have dishonoured your creed or left you for it.” You promise him. “I- I loved you.” His mouth turns down, frowning more as his shoulders shift. “Loved?” He chokes out quietly, sure that you must hate him now. He abandoned you. He left you at the mercy of slavers for years because he was angry. Because he had been so quick to believe that you would leave him. Even when all your belongings had been on his ship. The crates he had carried around for years until the Razor Crest had been blown up by Moff Gideon. “Mesh’la, I-“ you swallow harshly. “You shouldn’t marry me.” You tell him quietly. “I’ve been- I’ve been a slave for seven years, Din.” You remind him, looking down at your hands. “You can restore your creed, walk with honor if you-“
“No.” He doesn’t let you finish what you want to say. “Absolutely not. If you don’t want to marry me, I will return to Mandalore. I can redeem myself in the waters. I will not - no.” He growls, shaking his head. He would be prepared to go through the ritual to redeem himself if it means saving your life.
You gasp, shaking your head as you grab onto his pauldrons. “No. Mandalore is cursed. You would be killed and I- I couldn’t-“ you close your eyes. “Maker.” You whisper, feeling guilty for putting him in this position even if you had not been the one to remove his helmet. Din tuts and cups your cheek again. “Mesh’la, Mandalore is not cursed.” He promises. “My people have returned to our planet and the great forge is once again lit.” He nods when your jaw drops. “I have already bathed in the waters once before.” He confesses. “I- I removed my helmet to save the child. Grogu.” You bite your lip and stare at him. “Why do you offer to marry me then?” You ask softly.
“Because I want to.” He confesses softly. “I wanted it then. I loved you. I still love you and when I saw you standing there next to those bastards…my heart was racing and then I wanted to kill every single one of them for taking you. Even if they took you after you left me.” He explains his thoughts, “I fought for you. For your freedom so if you want to go, you can. But I want you to be my riduur.”
Din doesn’t lie, at least not to you. “I love you are the last words I whispered to you when I left the bunk that morning.” You reveal. “When you walked in, I was disappointed because I thought it couldn’t be you. When I heard your voice….my heart started beating like a hammer. I still love you. I wanted to be your riduur then, and I still do now.”
He stares at you for a moment, unused to the sight of your face without his visor distorting you slightly. “Mesh’la. Marry me.” He pleads, wanting you to be his, “I want you with me as my riduur.” He promises, reaching out to caress your cheek with his gloved hand.
You close your eyes, the smell of the leather familiar and you turn torn head towards his palm and nuzzles into him. “Yes.” You murmur quietly. “Yes, Din. I’ll marry you.”
He grins, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours, “we can say vows now. I want to have a ceremony back on Mandalore with you.” He confesses, “but I want you to be mine this second if you want that.”
You giggle slightly, off kilter and amused that you would marry Din wearing nothing but the skimpy slave bikini that the Hutts demand you wear when he is covered from neck to toe. “Can you leave your helmet off for our vows or would you prefer to have it on?” You would like to see his eyes but you understand if he would rather have it on.
He shakes his head, “I want to look at you without the visor.” He promises, reaching for your hands. “Are you ready?” He asks and you nod. He looks down at your joined hands, “mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde. We are one when together, we are one when parted, we share all, we will raise warriors." He translates so you understand what you are promising.
Raise warriors. Your stomach twists in pleasure at the thought of having his children. “Mhi-mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar-dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde.” You stumble through the words, encouraged by his hands squeezing yours softly as you made mistakes. “Are we married now in the eyes of the Mandalore?” You ask softly.
He offers you a blinding grin, happiness making his stomach twist as he nods, “we are.” It’s not Mandalorian tradition but he leans in to press his lips to yours, wanting to kiss you for the first time as his riduur. “I love you.” He promises, “I won’t let anything happen to you. You’ll be safe with me. Until my dying breath.”
You close your eyes and sigh softly as you let it sink in that you are leaving. Reaching up, you realize that your collar is missing, Din must have broken it off while you were unconscious and your eyes fill with tears. “I’m- I’m free.” You sob out quietly.
“You’ll be free from now on. Even if you get tired of me, you will have your freedom.” He promises, not wanting you to feel trapped by him. “Are you ready to go?” He asks, holding his hand out towards you once he’s standing up.
“Yes.” You groan as you look around the room, the bodies of the men Din had slain are still smouldering. “I never want to see this planet again.” You admit quietly.
Din smirks as his eyes drift up to the thrones of the twins who now lay dead on the floor after a slow effort to escape the wrath of the Mandalorian. “I want you, mesh’la.” He confesses, “I have - since you were gone, I’ve - you know, but no one was like you. I love you. I want you. Do you want to ride me on their throne?” He offers, knowing it would be revenge for them keeping you in their clutches.
You should probably say no, to take some time to heal mentally from what you’ve had to endure over the past seven years. You don’t want to. Every day you have woken up knowing that it could be the day Rotta or his twin killed you, thrown you into the pit for sport. You’ve lived in fear. Now you just want to live. “That would be perfect.” You hum as you glance at the throne. “Always wanted to ride you with your helmet off. Just never thought it would be possible.”
He nods, shifting to lift you up into his arms, carrying you over the bodies of the Hutt loyalists, to the throne that you were chained to. “You’re so beautiful…mesh’la.” Din murmurs as he sets you down, sitting in the large throne of the gangster that kidnapped you from him. This is his ultimate revenge. You waste no time straddling him and he smiles, his gloved hands sliding along your back.
“You are more handsome than I imagined.” You admit, hands reaching up to caress his cheeks. Your fingers slide across the bridge of his nose. “That helmet conceals how handsome you are, but it doesn’t take away from your appeal.”
He is happy that you think he’s handsome. He has a different concept of attractiveness for himself. He thinks you are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “I thought I was terrifying?” He teases softly, sliding his hands lower to squeeze your ass.
“Terrifying to those that don’t know you.” You admit with a smirk of your own. “To those that have wronged you or those you care about.” You moan softly when you feel his arousal twitch, his cock already hard and tenting his flight suit. “You are nearly covered and I am nearly nude.” You snort.
“We will make sure you get some proper clothes.” He promises, “you will never wear this again.” He vows, grunting when you grind down onto him. His hand snakes between the scraps of material, huffing when he finds you bare. “Bastards.” He growls, furious that they left you bare like this. He wants to replace the negative association so he slides his fingers through your folds to rub your clit.
“Din.” You moan, not bothering to ask him what he wants to be called. You know. You know that he wants to hear his name on your lips, just like your entire body hums in pleasure as he murmurs your name between kisses to your skin. “I need you.” You pant softly. “I always have needed you.”
"Can you take me? I don't want to hurt you." He murmurs, rubbing your clit, and you huff, reaching between you to work on freeing his cock from his flight suit. "I need you." You repeat and he groans, "you have me, baby."
You don’t give yourself time to think, just needing to feel him inside you again. You shift enough to push up and position him at your entrance before sinking down on his length. Feeling like you are where you belong for the first time in seven years. “Din.”
He pants as you take him inside you, lost in how wet and tight you are, lost in how it feels to have you in his arms again. “Fuck, mesh’la. So good.” He surges forward to press his lips to yours, keeping his eyes open so he doesn’t miss a moment of this when so much was shrouded in darkness before.
Your fingers tangle into his hair and you kiss him back. Ignoring the tears that roll down your cheeks, so happy that you are with him again. It feels like a dream, except you’ve never felt him pulsing inside you when you were dreaming. Rocking your hips makes him groan against your lips and you do it again while grinning.
He chuckles, “you are a handful.” He teases, kissing your neck until he playfully nips your neck. “My handful.” He smirks and rocks up into you, twitching inside you when you moan his name. “I love you, riduur.” He vows, “never letting you go again.”
“Never.” You agree. You don’t blame him for what happened, he believed that you had left. Considering that you know how the slavers operate, no one would have told Din you were taken. “I love you.”
His hands caress your body, wanting to remove their outfit from your form but he doesn’t have anything else for you to wear. He will make sure you get the clothes you want when you land on the next planet. “Fuck, need you to - please.” He begs, needing you to cum for him. “I can’t - it’s too much.”
You whine but you know you aren’t close enough to cum. Din’s body is tense and shaking under you as you bounce on his cock. “I’m- I’m working on it.” You huff out, loving how wrecked he sounds.
“Fuck, baby. I’m - need you to work on it a little quicker.” He grunts, “I can’t - baby, shit. I - I’m gonna-” He can’t stop himself as he falls apart, pushing up into you, his fingers digging into your hips as he twitches inside you. His hot cum paints your walls as he groans your name, resting his forehead against your shoulder.
You giggle, loving that he couldn’t hold back. Grinding down on him and squeezing his still twitching cock inside your walls. “Fuck.” Din groans, sounding embarrassed but you just lean back and lift his chin to make him look at you. “I love it, I love you dripping out of me. I don’t care that I didn’t cum.”
“I do.” He huffs, shaking his head, and he slides his hand lower to find your clit, rubbing circles on it. He wants you to fall apart for him. “Need you to cum for me. Wanna see it again, riduur.”
You moan, watching as his eyes light up in pleasure and he bites his lip, “always wondered what kind of faces you make when you cum.” You tease. “Now I want to see it all the time.” Din smiles. “You can see it, but I want to watch you right now.”
He rubs your clit a little faster, wanting to see you fall apart for him like this. He has only even watched it through his visor and he wants to see every minor detail on your face. He's softening inside you but he doesn't care, hissing a little when you squeeze him in your walls, but he wants you to fall apart.
You don’t rock your hip, but grind them down in a circular motion. Close to cumming as you stare at your riduur’s face. Din is your husband. You are the one person who can see his face, share his creed although you are not Mandalorian. You are one with him. Another swipe of his fingers sends you over the edge and you cry out, clenching down around him again. “Din!” His name echoes through the hall where you have been held captive as you cum for your husband.
He groans, kissing along your neck as you shake against him. He continues working his fingers until you cry out and he pulls them away, watching you as you try to catch your breath. “Mesh’la.” He murmurs, caressing your cheek with his free hand. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“Yes.” You smile at him as you slowly pull off his softened cock and stand. “I want to go back to the Crest. I’m sure you don’t have my things anymore, but it was always home.” Din frowns. “I have a Razor Crest but it’s not the ship you were on.” He confesses and you frown. “That ship was destroyed three years ago, by an Imperialist named Gideon. He was after the kid that is my apprentice.” Your eyes widen as Din stands to tuck his cock away. “What?”
“I - I was dar’manda. Showed the kid my face. Became the technical leader of Mandalore. Lost that title, thank the Maker, then decided to start taking bounties again. I have been across the galaxy and I never stopped thinking about you.” He promises, reaching out to take your hands.
You shiver slightly and Din immediately pulls back, reaching for the cowl of his cape and unhooks it from his flightsuit to hand to you. You wrap it around yourself and sigh when you feel covered and warm and comfortable since it smells like him. “I’ve never stopped thinking about you either.”
He glances around the hall, grabbing his blaster from its holster, and he guides you out of the shithole you’ve suffered in. “I got you, baby.” He promises, escorting you out into daylight and you gasp, tilting your head to let the sun warm your face. You look ethereal and Din wishes he could keep this moment forever but you need to go. “Come on, riduur.” He guides you to the Crest, opening the hatch. “Where are we going?” You ask and he secures the ship, “to get the kid.”
The kid. You can tell that Din cares about this child. It makes you smile softly as you watch him, now helmet back in place as he starts the ship up. You had dreamed about having his children one day, when you had almost imagined it to be impossible but he is acting like a protective father. Even his tone when he talks about this apprentice is warm and caring. “Where is he?” You ask softly.
He sighs, "I left him on Nevarro with a friend." He knows that Karga is capable of babysitting the kid. "We will find you some more clothes when we get to Navarro." He promises, "and whatever you want. You buy it." He demands, "but you can keep my cape for now."
You chuckle. “Thanks. I would hate to see the looks I would get on Nevarro.” You huff, knowing how rough and tumble it could be. “I don’t need you shooting another bounty hunter and impacting your standing with the guild. Din tilts his head and pulls back the leaver to increase power to the engines. “Nevarro has changed, Mesh’la.” He explains. “It is civilized, respectable.”
Your eyes widen and he chuckles, making his way up to the cockpit to punch in the coordinates. You glance around the Crest, familiar - yet different from the ship you called your home, and you caress the metal, finally realizing you are free.
You don’t go upstairs just yet. Exploring the new ship that feels so familiar already. The hours and days you had spent on the original Razor Crest with Din, you can’t even calculate it. Although you open the little sleeping nook and sigh when you see his blanket tossed on the cot. Crawling in and pressing the fabric to your face, you close your eyes and fall asleep.
****
“Mando. You have returned.” Karga greets him with open arms and Din nods, keeping you close. “And you brought a friend.” He adds and Din adjusts his stance, widening it as he proudly says, “riduur. My wife.” He says your name and you fluster, ducking your head.
Karga’s eyes widen in shock. “Wife?!” He exclaims and then laughs a full belly laugh. “You are full of surprises, Mando.” He admits. “I did not know you were looking to get married.” He glances back at you and smiles. “No wonder he once turned down my offer of a camtono of spice and trip to the Twi’lek Healing Baths.” He smirks as he reaches for your hand to bend down and kiss the back of it. “I would turn it down too, if I had a beautiful woman like you keeping hearth and home warm.”
Din smiles under his helmet and reaches for your hand, “she is beautiful. And she needs clothes.” He is glad for his cape to conceal your outfit, knowing you wouldn’t want anyone to see you like that now that you are free.
“We have the finest merchants in the outer rim.” Karga immediately turns into a salesman for his planet. “We import from Coruscant, Naboo , even host refugees that had been fortunate enough to not be on Alderaan at the time of its demise.” He winces slightly but quickly recovers. “One even made clothes for the Organa family.” He boasts proudly, happy with what he has turned Nevarro into.
Your eyes widen and Din reaches for the credits he keeps on his belt. "Get her the best." He demands from Karga, "I want to get the kid and then we will go back to my home for food and rest." Karga nods, "I will arrange for some clothes for the lady."
“Your home?” Your eyes widen as Din guides you away from his friend. “I live here, when I’m not working.” He explains. “I- we, have a house outside of the city. You will love it, Mesh’la.” You never expected Din to ever have a home, expecting him to be a nomad. “It’s for your kid.” You realize. “For Grogu.”
He nods, “it’s for him. And now for you.” He promises, entering the hut when you hear a coo. You look down and gasp, seeing a small green child staring up at you. “Hey kid.” Din greets him and you can hear the smile in his voice as he picks the child up who coos at your husband, reaching out to touch his face. “There’s someone I want you to meet.” Din says your name, “my riduur. She’s our family.”
The kid, Grogu, is like no creature you have met before. He stares at you with wide black eyes before he somersaults from Din’s arms and lands on your shoulder with a grunt as you gasp and reach for him, terrified he will fall. Your husband chuckles. “He likes you.” He explains as you turn your head as a three finger claw settles against your cheek and suddenly images fill your head. Images of Grogu in a pram, a strange Mandalorian arriving. Din protecting him from a giant beast and in return, Grogu saving him. Hundreds of visions, all with your husband in the center. Putting himself in danger for the child resting on your shoulder until you realize that Grogu chose to stay with Din and he loves him. The visions stop and you bite your lip, smiling at the little green creature. “I love him too.” You promise softly. “Always. So that means I will love you, if you let me.”
He chirps at you, wanting you to know he likes you and if Din loves you, he will too. You seem to understand as you reach up to caress his ear and he tilts his head. “Let’s go home.” Din murmurs, taking your hand as Grogu jumps from your shoulder into the satchel Din had slung around his body. The three of you walk to the small cabin Din calls home and you gasp when you see it. “You like it?” Din asks, turning to look at you, and you wish you could see his face. “I love it.” He nods, opening the door, and Grogu squeals as he jumps, rushing towards the snacks Karga stocked in the back pantry.
“It’s very nice.” You walk around the surprisingly spacious open room and notice the comfortable sofa and chairs. There’s some doors on one side that must lead to sleeping quarters. And there is an honest to Maker kitchen. “Wow, you mean I can cook here? More than just ration packs?”
Din smiles under his helmet, “you can cook here, whenever you want.” He promises and Grogu coos in delight. “He never stops eating.” Din explains and you giggle, “we will make sure you have enough snacks.” Grogu spins in delight and waddles over to his pod. “Nap time.” Din explains and the doors close on the pod. “Do you want to shower? It’s not a ‘fresher.” He promises and you groan, “really? Yes. I want to clean up.” Din steps closer, “you can say no but I’d really like to clean up with you.”
You smirk at him as he shuffles slightly. “And miss out on the chance to have you completely stripped down with me, and have the lights on?” You shake your head. “That’s something I never imagined I would ever get to have.”
He chuckles, taking your hand to guide you to the bathroom, working on his beskar once you’re there and you lean in to turn on the water. His cape drops to the floor and you start to rip at the outfit the Hutt’s forced you to wear. Tears sting in your eyes and Din notices the change. “Hey, hey, hey.” He reaches for your hands as you tear the fabric from your body. “I’m so sorry you had to endure that. Those bastards…you survived. They are dead. You’re so strong, riduur. So damn strong.” He shifts to cup your cheek, “you are here and you are protected. My life for yours.” He promises, wanting you to know he’d lay his life down for you.
“I would never want that.” You choke out and you bite your lip as you look up into his visor. “Can I see you?” You ask softly. He nods and leans in, silently giving you permission to remove his helmet. You reach for the cool beskar and slowly pull it off. Loving that his eyes are immediately on yours.
You set the helmet down and he reaches for your waist, pulling you closer, and your fingers caress his features. He closes his eyes for a brief moment as you trace his nose, until he opens them, wanting to see you. “I love you.” He murmurs, lips brushing your fingertips as you trace their shape.
“I love you.” You are bare now, no trace of your past is on you and you reach for his flight suit, wanting him to be just as bare. “Here we can just be us.” You murmur softly. “No creeds, no past. Just the two people who love each other.”
He nods, nudging his nose against yours when you lean closer. You pull on the tabs of his flight suit, stepping back so he can shrug it off and kick it aside. “Shower.” He orders, squeezing your waist.
You hum, stepping into the stall and standing under the hot spray of the water. Groaning happily at the heat. “The lava flow under the surface keeps the water hotter than anything I’ve ever felt before.” Din chuckles as he steps in with you and groans himself when water touches his skin.
“It’s been so long since I had a hot shower.” You confess, “I only got a bowl of cold water.” You admit and Din frowns, hating to hear about how you suffered. “Never again, riduur.” He vows and reaches for you to pull you closer, “you will never want for anything.”
You know that he means it, but he doesn’t have to give you everything. “I just want you.” You promise as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “I know not everything will be comfortable in life, that’s not the life we had before, but I want this with you.”
He nods, understanding what you mean and he reaches for the soap, wanting to wash you. You sigh when his bare hands caress your skin, enjoying his touch, and he can’t help the way his cock starts to harden at your soft sighs while he lathers you up.
You had known this would end up in sex, touching Din always does. You don’t mind it, you want it. You want your husband. Now your hands slide over his shoulders as you hold on. “I love you.” You murmur softly.
He loves hearing you say it and he surges forward to press his lips to yours, lost in the overwhelming reality that he can touch you. He can see you and touch you and this isn’t his imagination. He groans your name and slides his hands down to your thighs, lifting you up to press you against the wall of the shower.
He groans into your mouth and your legs naturally wrap around his waist. “Din.” You pant as one hand slides up to cup your tit. “I want you. I want you to make love to me right here.” You beg softly.
He pants as your heels dig into his ass. “You need me to get you ready?” He offers, knowing he will stretch you but you shake your head. “Now, riduur.” He nearly bursts hearing you call him that and he groans, letting go of your breast to grip his cock, positioning himself at your entrance to slowly push into you with a harsh hiss.
He stretches you out. It would be painful, except it’s never with him. Always nothing but pleasure as he fills you up. You cling to him as the water cascades down his back and you press your lips to his in a kiss that is years of repressed emotions.
Din groans into the kiss, loving how you feel around him, and he feels like this place is now his home. He squeezes your thigh, keeping you pressed into the tiles as he starts to rock his hips, pulling back to watch your face as you take him.
All you can do is cling to him and enjoy it. To realize that you are free to love him, free to love your life with him. “More.” You beg. “Make me forget everything.”
He grunts, wanting to create new memories for you. That doesn't involve those gangster bastards. “Fuck, mesh’la. You feel so good.” He murmurs, kissing along your jaw as he rocks into you.
You whine and your eyes slip closed. Almost afraid you are dreaming but the way he feels is more real than any dream. The water is still hot, beating down on both of you and you dig your nails into his shoulders. “I love you, Din.”
He groans, rocking into you, and there’s no rush. There’s nothing but time now for you and him. He pants as your walls flutter around his length, making him groan as you take everything he gives you. “Cum for me, cyar’ika.” He pleads softly, wanting to watch you fall apart for him.
There’s a soft intensity that you know has to have been there the entire time, hidden under his helmet. The warmth and love in his eyes makes you moan just as much as the way he pushes inside you. “Yes, yes.” You whimper, leaning back and trusting him to keep you up against the wall. “So close.”
“That’s it. Fuck, you’re so beautiful. My riduur. My life.” He vows and he says it so reverently that you fall apart. Clamping down on his cock, he groans your name and within a half dozen thrusts, he’s pushing deep to fill you up. Your nails dig into his shoulders but he doesn’t care, loving the way you are squeezing him to drain him of every drop.
“Cum for me, riduur.” You whimper. “Fill me up, Din. I want to feel you. I need to feel you.” You beg, cupping his cheek and pressing your lips to yours as his cock pulses inside you. You love it, you love that he finally found you. It doesn’t matter that it took years, it matters that you are together.
****
Din looks out at the horizon of Nevarro, the sky painted with orange, red, and pinks. He watches Grogu, who is chasing a frog, “can’t use the force, buddy.” He tells the kid who coos in protest but lets the frog drop. The door opens behind him and he turns his helmet to find you as you waddle out onto the porch. “Sit, riduur.” Din orders, standing up to help you into the chair. Your ad will arrive any day now and Din is scared but excited. “He’s busy.” You giggle, watching a frog land on Grogu’s head until he uses the force to float it in the air. “He will be a good brother.” You smile as the kid coos. “And we will raise our son to protect him. You can teach them everything you know.” Din nods, reaching for your hand as he sits down beside you. “We will raise warriors.” He lifts your hand to his helmet and you smile, “and Grogu.” The kid waddles over and Din lifts him onto his lap. He has his family and his creed. He doesn’t need anything else.
Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI)
Summary: You’re not sure how it happens, how you two end up on the ground, sliding in the mud, clutching at each other. His big hands lock your wrists above your head, pinning you to the moss and mud. You could slip out from under him easily, but you let him scan you, checking to make sure you’re okay, helmet tilting when he sees your racing heart in your chest.
Warnings: Smut, mud, rain, Din uses that line from the movie, helmet stays on, gloves stay on, we only get Din dick glimpse, author used Wookieepedia. Not beta read because it just needs to be released so I can move along with my day.
Words: 1,600
A/N: 🤷🏼♀️ I saw Mandalorian & Grogu while ovulating. I've had this idea half written in my docs with Joel, but once I figured out how good this would be for Din, well, I had to change it. This is partially based from my favorite sex scene (Emmanuelle IV nation, rise) that I've shared with some of you. Titles from the Marías song "Care For You" which is the hottest song/video in the world. Uhhh. Enjoy?
Masterlist
It hasn’t stopped raining since you set foot on this planet. It’s a sheet of water, unforgiving and smothering, hammering down so hard you can hardly breathe, let alone see in front of you. The storm soaks you all the way through, your boots dipping deeper into the muddy ground.
You couldn’t move, even if you wanted to. The throaty and deep growl that told you “stay put” keeps you planted in the forest. You’re out, in the open, the clearing barely wrapping you in any sort of protection. You’re shivering, arms shaking, blaster held up as if your measly little pistol’s going to do anything to protect you.
Far away shots radiate through the tall trunks of the trees, coming closer with every sway of the foliage. Your breathing rattles when you gasp a wet, rapid suck of air. You want to call out for him, but you stay quiet and armed. Just how he likes you.
Another blast of shots echoes out into the air. Then a weird silence that seems to mute the cacophony of raindrops and thunder.
If he doesn’t come back, what the fuck do you do next? Do you even know where the ship is? And how the hell are you going to pilot the thing? You still feel like the bounty hunter’s little charity case, proving herself to the big, strong Mandalorian after you were left all alone when the Hutts ran your crew to the ground on Nar Shaddaa and your captain ditched you to save his own skin.
Your feet are growing numb, water trickles down your whole body, and you’re too anxious to get mad at yourself for not bringing your poncho. He told you to wait. So you do. Body quaking, teeth grinding. Every shadow looks like an enemy hiding in the bushes. You thought you’d have more courage with Din, that you’d be brave like him. And yet… all you want to do is get back to the safety of the ship.
A hunched shape breaks through the dense foliage. Tall, looming, broad, shiny.
Din.
Your blaster drops to the ground, and he says your name, speakers crackling just loud enough to hear over the rain. You slip in the muck as you cross the clearing.
“Din,” you whisper.
He bounds towards you, gloved hands gripping your arms, his armored shoulders rising and falling. The metal of his helmet clunks against your forehead, and he takes a moment.
“Are we okay?” you ask.
“We are.”
That unlocks you, and you choke on relief, collapsing against the Beskar wall of him. “I was scared,” you blurt to the dark T of the visor.
You’re not sure how it happens, how you two end up on the ground, sliding in the mud, clutching at each other. His big hands lock your wrists above your head, pinning you to the moss and mud. You could slip out from under him easily, but you let him scan you, checking to make sure you’re okay, helmet tilting when he sees your racing heart in your chest.
“Don’t be scared, I’ll protect you,” he thunders above you, pressing his body down, full heavy weight against you, the edge of his thigh armor digging between your legs. Lightning strobes and thunder cracks, and you’re flailing, greedy, grinding yourself against the hard edge of his armor. The rain still sheets down, droplets of it leaking down his helmet, tasting like precious metal and need.
He’s repeating your name, barking it almost, over the tinny speaker in his helmet, gasping it out. You clutch at his pauldrons, trying to bring him closer and closer to you. He’s heavy, but you’re slippery.
The world turns when he rolls, and you’re straddling his hips. The clasp of your soaked tunic is ripped open by Din, cold rain hitting your bare skin, and you welcome it to cool your burning skin.
His hands slide up your thighs, leather gripping hard, and he groans, that low, mechanical sound you crave. His visor is fixed on your breasts, the rain making your skin glisten in the flashes of lightning.
“This is dangerous,” you say, and yet Din’s hands pull you harder against him
“I’ll take care of whoever comes.”
He sits up, holding you against him, your legs twining around his waist. You grind, the soaked seams of your pants and the scrape of his flight suit sparking warm friction along your needy cunt. It’s almost primitive in the way you rub and moan, head tipped back, rain filling your mouth as his big, meaty hands grip your ass, moving you sweeter and deeper along him.
The mud squelches beneath you when he presses you back down into the ground, his helmet knocking against your forehead again. “Your heart,” he growls. “I can hear it.”
There’s a desperation shared between you, it’s been there from the first moment the dark T of his visor met your eyes. You tug at his flight suit, needy for his skin, but he stops you with his hand on your wrist. Instead, he slides his hand down your stomach, under the waistband of your pants, and you gasp when the leather finds your clit, thick finger pressing against it and circling. The rain continues to pour and pelt, washing the mud from your skin only for your writhing body to replace it with more, but you don’t care about the mess, not when Mando has you captured like this. You don’t care about anything now, just the way he watches you through that impassive visor.
“I want you,” you beg.
He tugs your pants low, exposes your pussy to the rain, to the unknown planet, and to him, not even pausing before grinding himself against you.
You wonder what he looks like when he sees you like this, naked body offered to him amongst the dirt and mud of the planet he landed on just a few hours ago. Are his eyes greedy? Does he lick his lips, craving the taste of you? You want to see his face, want to see his eyes, but you know you can’t… and it only makes you want him more. He groans and grunts, desperation through the speakers, and he rips down his flight suit, just enough to give you a quick glimpse of his golden cock.
The thick tip of Din nudges at your slick entrance, and when he pushes in, you see a galaxy behind your eyes. You moan, loud, an almost primal scream, and he answers it with a growl of “good girl,” like he always does.
He gives you all of him at once, shrouding himself in your wet heat, he doesn’t take it slow. There’s no time for savoring. It can’t take long out here in the middle of the forest. Later, after you’ve scrubbed yourself in the tiny shower of the ship, he’ll lay you down on the metallic floor and take his time… maybe even wrap a blindfold over your eyes and bestow the precious gift of his tongue between your legs, but for now, you have to be fast.
He presses you deeper and deeper into the forest floor, hands bracing on your shoulders, using you as leverage as his cock spears you. The Mandalorian overpowers you, makes you ache in the way he fills you, thrusting into you with the same rhythm as the quick thunderclaps overhead. Din’s breathing hard, fingers gripping you so hard you welcome the ache across your skin.
“Look at me,” he rasps, visor locked on your face, and you do, all soaked, crumpled, and ruined by his big cock.
Your back bows in the mud, mouth open to the rain, and his helmet presses into your forehead in the way you know he’s thinking about feeling your skin against his. Every tattered breath he takes through the speakers vibrates through your body, his tremors meeting yours as your cunt clenches around him. You wonder if he’s sweating under there, if his sweat tastes metallic.
You cum first, noisy and shameless and writhing, out in the middle of the forest. Your pulsing pussy drags him with you, and you can hear the panic of his own orgasm in the flatline of his breathing. He pulls out and gives you what you crave, the sight of his big, gloved hand wrapping around his fat cock, stroking his release out of him.
Thick white webs of the Mandalorian land across your wet body, the rain instantly washing away the cum he’s bathed you in. You’re panting, curses you’ve gathered from far-off planets escaping from your mouth as you come down, and for a split second you pretend he could take off the helmet, feel his plush lips against yours outside the privacy of his ship… but the moment never comes.
He rolls off, grunting, tucking himself back into his flight suit, all of the Mandaloian now shrouded and protected, while you lie splayed amongst the forest naked and shivering. He drags you over to him, gathers you in his arms, gauntlets pressing against your skin. He cradles your head against his throat, your face mashed up against the pulse point under his helmet, pressing into the scratchy flight suit.
You savor it, shaky and sated, his body heat radiating through the panels of armor. He traces the line of your spine with his hand, full of softness not many people know the bounty hunter is capable of.
“I care for you,” he finally says, hushed and flattened by the rain.
Your eyes close, and you memorize the sound, pulse slowing when you realize you're safe for once, because of the impossibly big, shiny bounty hunter.
“And, I care for you,” you tell him, his arms answering your confession when they bound you tighter against him.
Warnings: Smut! MDNI (18+), Oral, intercourse, fingering- mild BDSM, slight sensory deprivation, masterbation, swearing, unprotected sex- pls wrap before you tap. Not proofread 🥲
A.N: inspired by the iconic Slave 4 U song by Britney Spears enjoyyyyyyy ❤️🔥
Please let me know what else you guys would like! I do have a few other fics on the back-burner (for now!) that I'll start to post soon and just let me know if you'd liked to be tagged in further works too ✨
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When you finally came to, it was with a throbbing headache and a chill over your skin. There were faint streams of light pouring into the room you were on the floor of but otherwise it was dark. Your hands sunk into plush fabrics- far too glamorous for the room that you were in.
You then slowly sat up, brows furrowing at your attire- or lack of since you were in virtually nothing but underwear. The soft clinking noise that came from your wrists confused you even more, bounded and chained from the wall.
“What in the stars…” you muttered. Doors opened and you jumped, curling up as far as you could on the bed and pulling the fabric to cover you as best as possible.
“She’s awake.” The person by the opened door called out before sending you an intense glare. “We will bring you to him.” As they got closer, the further you tried to move away but they unlocked your chains from the wall and dragged you out your cell and through what felt like endless tunnels.
As you looked around, trying to understand where you were, the person handed you over to someone else. “The mighty Jabba The Hutt!” He bellowed as your chains were tugged upon and you fell to your knees as the Hutt dragged you towards him. You groaned and let out a gritted scream, pulling back and trying to fight against the unbeatable strength of Jabba. But it was no use.
The Hutt laughed at your helplessness, you eventually gave in once exhaustion took hold of your arms and couldn’t fight back anymore. The realisation settled in when you looked up to him, how you were betrayed by a trusted member of your Royal Court, the dull ache from your head still remained, remembering that something struck the back of your head.
“A debt. Handsomely paid.” Jabba laughed. “My newest prized possession. You will entertain me and others well.”
You looked down at the shackles on your wrists and sighed.
From a princess to prisoner.
—•—
Din did his very best to avoid any jobs tied to the Hutt family.
But when the transmission came through for how many credits he’d earn for completing a job for them, he and his morals couldn’t refuse.
Upon landing in the swampy atmosphere, he was greeted by a creature that commanded a check over of his ship and of him. “I was requested.” Din’s voice droned through his helmet.
“We cannot be too safe.” The creature explained before curtly nodding when Din was cleared. He walked through the endless tunnels of the palace, hand close to where his blaster was holstered as he kept his wits about him.
The doors opened and he was instantly greeted with Jabba looking down upon him, but what caught Din’s attention was at the end of chains that were being tightly gripped by him.
You looked up through heavy eyes, your heart starting to race with hope that someone was sent to rescue you- you didn’t know how many days it had been. He greeted Jabba and your heart sank, arms and head involuntary moving like a puppet as Jabba moved his while talking.
Din kept his body faced forward but his eyes remained on you the whole time, absorbing every single inch of you. He had never had the privilege of seeing someone like you before. It also helped the fact you were in next to nothing, suffocating Din in the swampy, humid atmosphere even more. He was thankful his helmet hid most of his ogling eyes and blushing cheeks.
“Ahh The Mandalorian. Have you accepted my task?” Jabba asked.
Din still had his eyes on you, not like anyone could tell from behind his mask. “I have.” He replied and Jabba chuckled, your body jolting at the reaction. It caused Din to swallow hard as he watched, his mind starting to wander.
If a gentle tug could cause your body to react like that, Din considered just what reaction he could have over it.
“Excellent. Credits will be paid upon your successful return.” He explained.
Din nodded once and placed his hands on his hips, thumbs laced under his belt. “Who’s your friend in the chains?” He motioned to you and your head snapped up. Din felt a chill down his spine the second your eyes met his helmet.
Jabba sinisterly smirked and pulled on the chains, dragging you to your feet before pushing you slightly forward towards the mandalorian. You almost tripped over yourself as you tried to scrape an ounce of modesty together enough to cover yourself as best you could as you faced the gaze of the man in the armour.
“A prized possession of mine. Bow.” He commanded as he tugged your chains and you complied. When you stood up straight again, Din noticed your eyes glossing over. Jabba pulled you back to him, the boy in the beskar armour noticed you grimace and wince in both disgust and pain. “She dances and entertains me and my guests so wonderfully.”
“I’m sad to not have the honour.” Din mentally kicked himself for his thoughts escaping.
“Perhaps upon your return.” Jabba suggested as you lay back down again with the same sad look upon your face that caused Din’s chest to become tight. Your silent plea for help having a hold on him.
“Perhaps.” Din repeated before turning on his heel and was about to leave, but an idea came to mind. “Or perhaps we could come to another arrangement, Jabba.” Din slowly turned around and sauntered forward again. “Instead of all those credits, I’ll accept her as payment.”
Your eyes widened and your body froze in place, arms ridged as Jabba laughed at the Mandalorians bold ask. “Bring me three more and I may consider.” He demanded.
Din looked at him and then to you again. He licked his lips together and smirked.
“Consider it done.”
—•—
You lay on the plush fabric and stared at the ceiling. Days had passed since you had been used as a bartering chip between Jabba and the Mandalorian.
You had heard tales of them.
The wonder. The bloodshed. The secrecy.
Never had you had the privilege to see one in the flesh. Much less request you as payment.
Your thoughts carried you away, what he would do if he was successful and took you away from the hell you currently resided in. You’d hope he would have felt the dismay radiate from you and have enough pity for you that he’d take you home.
Your thoughts then turned to who was hiding behind the mask, the face behind the voice. You wondered if he was handsome, you could already tell he was strong from how much his metal plates were practically bulging.
Your hand that was resting on your bare stomach slowly creeped down practically on its own to the barely there skirt, your fingers dancing over the fabric as you closed your eyes, heart slowly starting to beat faster as you thought of the mysterious Mandalorian and all the things he could do to you.
And then you took the plunge and slipped your fingers underneath your underwear and bit down on your lip. Your fingers sinking deeper into your folds as you thought of his voice in your ear, begging you to come undone for him, commanding you to do anything he wanted. You gasped as your pace gathered momentum, slowly releasing the tension that had wound inside you over him.
When you came crashing down from your high, sinking further into the fabric with a large grin your face, Din’s was just hitting his own over the thought of you in that skimpy outfit and bound up. That you were his prized possession instead.
“Dank farrik!” Din cursed as he came in the cockpit of his ship, trying to catch his breath as his ship floated in the depths of space. He melted into his seat and wiped the sweat away that began to bead on his forehead. “I need her.” He said to himself before becoming composed. To ensure this would be the case, Din was going to double what Jabba had asked for.
—•—
You were lying by Jabba one afternoon when the doors of the throne room opened and in walked the Mandalorian in a cool and calm manner. You sat up a little straighter and sent him a small smile, one that he almost fell to his knees over.
“Ah Mando!” Jabba bellowed, chains still in his hold. “You delivered and then some! More than we agreed.”
“All the more reason to consider my payment request.” He replied, the almost robotic voice sending a spark through your body. “Do we have a deal, Jabba?”
The Hutt took far too long internally debating with himself whether to let you leave or not. “I enjoy her company too much…” he replied. Din just about reached for his blaster ready to take anyone in his path out as your head fell in disappointment. Until Jabba spoke again. “However, considering how successful you were, and how many credits you’d want from me…she will cover our agreement. Our business is settled.”
You and Din let out a relieved sigh at the same time, a guard set you free and you almost ran to the Mandalorian. Your smile was short lived, when you looked down to your wrists, cool metal surrounded them. He had bound you. “It’s been a pleasure, Jabba.” He called out to him while looking at you like he was looking at his next meal.
“Until another time Mando. Enjoy your payment.” He darkly chuckled as Din left with you in his clutches.
“Seriously?!” You softly snapped as he pulled you along. “You’re as bad as him.”
“Amuse me until we get out of here. I’ll take them off once we get to my ship.” He lowly spoke, almost causing you to trip up. He did keep his word and the moment you returned to his ship, he unlocked the cuffs, his hands ghosting over the marks Jabbas left on your wrist. “Are you okay?”
You looked up to him. “I am now.” He nodded once and swallowed hard, trying to get a grip of himself until he was in the vastness of space at least. “Where are you going to take me?” You asked as he moved to the cockpit of his ship and told you to sit for take off. You did just that, Din smirked at your obedience. “I can tell you my home planet. I’d like to go home.” You asked softly.
“I’ll take you home.” Din replied before turning around to face you and lowering his voice. “But first, I gave up a lot of credits for you, you’re going to show me you were worth every single one.”
The pressure suddenly felt like it was pressing down on your scantily clad body when those words left his mouth and he sat back in his seat, spreading his legs apart ever so slightly.
A small smile appeared on your face, your head innocently tilting to the side. “How do you suggest I do that…Mando?”
“Fuck. Call me Din.” He choked out, not unnoticed by you, if you kept calling him that he would be over before anything even started. “Jabba said you danced. Dance for me.”
“Of course, Din…” you stood up, Din’s eyes capturing every glowing exposed inch of you. You rested a hand on his cold, armour clad shoulder as your moving hips transfixed him, his breathing becoming heavier. You continued before turning around and sitting on his lap, a soft groan leaving his helmet as his hands gripped onto his seat, his hands aching as his knuckles turned white.
He was almost convinced at this point that Jabba had killed him and his soul was in another universe far, far away.
You took one of his hands on your own accord and placed it on your stomach, Din inadvertently jutting his hips against your ass as you did which made you snicker. “Shit,” he hissed as you roamed the hand over your body, down your thighs and then up to your breasts. “I don’t even know your name,” his voice faltered. “I need to know your name.” Din whimpered when you grabbed his other hand and placed it on your thigh.
“It’s Y/N.” You replied and quickly stood back up, Din’s body eased slightly feeling the weight from you disappearing but he desperately started to miss you on him. Din reached his hand out to you, you bent down and took the top of his gloved hand between your teeth and pulled it off. “How much of you can I see?” You asked noticing his fingers frozen in place.
“Everything but the helmet.” He replied with a stoic voice. “I can’t let you see my face.”
“Shame,” you sighed and straddled him, taking his bare hand in your own and slowly bringing it to your metallic bra, your face close to his helmet. “I was hoping to sit on it.”
A low growl left Din’s throat and he gripped your breast harshly. “I didn’t say that couldn’t happen. I told you, Y/N.” Your eyes widened ever so slightly. “Every. Single. Credit.”
Din was swift to turn you around and push you forward to his bedroom. He tossed you down his bed, the sheets a lot more comfortable than what you had to endure recently. “I’m glad you were successful.” You admitted before he ripped the sheer skirt from you, his eagerness shining as much as his armour. Din was practically salivating at the sight of you sprawled out for him, your knees widening to accommodate him as he crouched between them.
“Take it off.” He demanded.
“Take what off?” You asked, batting your eyelashes as you wiggled your hips feigning innocence.
You heard him smirk under his helmet. “Everything that’s obstructing my view of what’s sure to be the best sight in the galaxy.”
“Just the Galaxy?” You teased him, reaching for the clasp of your bra.
“The whole damn universe.” He clarified as he watched your bra leave your body. Din just about choked at the sight and then about died when you removed your underwear.
“This is feeling quite one sided…” you coyly raised yourself up on your elbows. Din removed his other glove as a compromise.
He reached down allowing his fingertips to gently trace over your bare body, a trail of goosebumps followed his fingers. “You’re my prized possession now…” his voice almost turned dark. “Well, at least for the next while.”
“I could dance for you, let you take anything and everything from me each night. Let you take as much of me as you like.” With each word you said, a groan left Din’s lips. He was practically fighting with his boner at this point to chill and enjoy every single second he had of you. “Be a slave for you…” your musings made him moan. He was fighting the urge to rip his helmet off and kiss you.
You gasped your words back into your throat when without warning, plunged his finger into your pussy. “Fuck, so wet already and we are only just beginning…” he added another digit and your back arched at the sensation. Din gently thrusted his fingers in and out of your pussy, lavishing in the fact his fingers commanded such power over you. He watched with bated breath you writhing under him and pulled out just before you had a chance to enjoy yourself any further.
You loudly groaned in annoyance when he pulled back, but your furrowed eyebrows softened as you watched him tip up the bottom of his helmet to suck your juices from his fingers. “Try before you dive huh?” You half joked as he mewled in delight. Din cracked a smile at that.
“I’d bottle you up if I could and drink myself silly on the taste of your pussy.” He replied before standing up and removing his armour, his perfectly sculpted body leading to his perfectly matched cock. He watched your body vibrate in delight at the sight of him, he felt the heat rising from his cheeks to the top of his helmet.
“How will this work with that,” you pointed to the silvery elephant in the room.
“I have an idea.” Din reached down and ripped some fabric from the end of his sheets. “You won’t be tempted to rip it off will you?” He asked in a wary tone.
“That depends how much you want to get your credits worth.” You replied.
Din hummed and looked around, his eyes locking into something else that did lock. Only they would around your wrists. He bent down and picked up the cuffs “Hands behind your head.” He demanded. “I’m not afraid to bound you up if I need to.”
You held your hands complicity above your head and he bent over, his cock pressing to your thigh made you smirk- he was as eager as you. The cold metal sent a chill down your spine. “I’m not afraid to be bound up…” you reached up and planted a kiss to his helmet. He tied the ripped sheet over your eyes so you couldn’t see him.
Din then removed his helmet, a literal and physical weight ripped from his shoulders. He inhaled deeply, feeling like he could finally breathe. He bent down and whispered in your ear, you jolted ever so slightly feeling his hot breath fan over your skin. “Let me know if it’s too much.” He pressed a soft kiss between your cheek and ear before allowing himself to kiss the lips he fantasised about on his own and around his cock. You melted into one another, Din’s hands deeply roaming around your body as your own were desperate to break free.
He was seeing stars kissing you, his tongue twirling with your own as moans filled his confined bedroom space. “Din,” you moaned against his lips. “Let me give you your credits worth.”
He pulled back, brow furrowed in silent question. “How?” You didn’t answer him, you simply opened your mouth- wide.
Din smirked and got on his knees quickly, his cock aligning perfectly with your mouth as he moved his hips forward and felt the warm, wet heat of your mouth surround him. He looked at the ceiling as a gritted cry from sheer pleasure left his mouth, so much so that he shed a tear. He bucked his hips forcibly as you just about swallowed and sucked on his entire length
“F-f-sh-shit!” He cried “Shit, shit, shit! Y/N that’s so good baby, so fucking good.” Din gripped onto your tit and roughly massaged it. “Oh baby I can’t, I can’t cum yet!” He pulled away feeling himself getting closer to the point of no return. “I gotta taste you. I gotta let you cum first. You were stuck in that hell hole, I wanna make you scream my name and cum so viciously that you forgot you were ever there.” He said between breaths as he desperately scrambled to get in between your legs, peppering kisses over your body on the way down.
Din hoisted your thighs over his shoulders and didn’t give you a chance to recover from having him in your mouth before plunging into your pussy. You sunk deeply into his bedsheets, Din was praying that he’d be able to smell your sweet sent on them for weeks to come.
Or hoped that he would have the chance to have you cumming for weeks.
“Oh my stars, Mando!” You moaned and it reached his ears, only encouraging him further. He desperately lapped you up between breaths, moaning into your pussy and causing a surge of electricity through your body. Your legs twitched uncontrollably, the sensory experience creating an otherworldly effect in you. “Fuck,” you yelped. “Din your gonna make me cum.”
“Then cum,” he growled. “Every credit lost will have been worth it to have you cum on my tongue Y/N. Every. Single. Last. One.” He buried his face deeper, adding two fingers inside you for good measure.
You did just as he asked.
Vigorously. Vindictively. Viciously.
And ended up in a panting mess on his sheets as your orgasm dissipated into stardust and a smile.
“Thank you.” You shakily said.
Din smiled at the sight of you before him and reached up to kiss your lips, softly and with passion.
Then a sharp gasp left your lips as your back lifted from the bed feeling a sudden stretch of your pussy as his cock made itself at home.
“You thought I was done? Not until I cum in that perfect pussy of yours it isn’t.”
He gritted out as he was being squeezed tightly by your deep, wet heat. Din rutted his hips back and forth, haphazardly, desperately, gone.
Din felt like he was floating in space as he found the last ounces of strength within himself to finally warrant the release of his orgasm, spilling inside you and down the sides of your thighs. He finally pulled out from you after a few moments of enjoying the sensation of you around him.
Din kissed you and you kissed him back, a breathless request leaving your lips. “Can I touch your face?” You asked, gentle and cautiously.
You felt the removal of the metal restraints, your fingers tentatively moved to his face. He chuckled when you missed entirely and hit his shoulder. “Here,” he gently grasped your hand and brought it to his cheek, your other hand joining it “I’m here.” He softly spoke. He couldn’t remember the last time, if anyone even did, caress his face. He pressed a kiss to your palm, a gentle click filling the space that was filled with moans mere moments ago. “I’m here.”
“So am I.” You replied feeling every groove from joy, fear, sadness and happiness under your fingertips. You leaned forward and captured his lips once more, then again before you knew he had to place his helmet back on again. When he did, he removed your makeshift blindfold and you blinked away the stars you had been seeing.
Then reality filled the space as you lay on Din’s chest, he held you close. You could hear his heartbeat and then looked up, face hidden under the mask and the mystery under the armour half solved.
“I suppose I should get you home.” He said, sounding disappointed.
You hummed “I’m sure we can go the long way home if you promise we can include that on our journey.” Din squeezed you, a delighted grunt leaving his lips.
—•—
You fashioned a makeshift robe and bag out of fabric Din had given you, stuffing the remnants of your time in Jabbas palace in it. “Thank you for taking me home,” you pressed a kiss to his helmet before sitting down as he entered your planets atmosphere.
“Thank you for making my fantasy a reality,” Din said before cursing himself. “Ah dank farrik…”
You bit down on your lip. “What do you mean?”
“Well let’s just say I got a practice run in before taking the physical test…” you let out a soft snort and Din bit the inside of his cheek to try and not laugh.
“That’s alright,” you said as he landed to a group of delegates awaiting your arrival. He was confused over the crowd. “I got a practice run…or rather rub…in too.” Din breathed in a gasp and choked on it at your revelation.
He followed you out and everyone suddenly bowed. “Welcome back, Princess. We are thankful for your safe return.”
“You have the Mandalorian to thank for that.” You nodded back to him and he couldn’t help but tilt his head before standing slightly more rigid, unaware the was in the presence of a princess. “You’ll be seeing him often. Very often. I’m going to be utilising his services…” you walked forward and stopped in front of one sheepish looking delegates. “Starting with this one.” You turned to Din. “It was him who pawned me off to Jabba to pay his debt.” Din approached you and stood behind you defensively. “Do with him what you will.” He grabbed the man before he could run. You turned to him once more before he left. “Upon your return, you’ll be rewarded.”
“How many credits?” He played along, knowing well that credits weren’t even on the table.
“Oh I’ll ensure this, and any job you do for me, will be well compensated, Mando.” With a wink you turned on your heel, Din catching the glimmer of the bronze underwear set in the bag.
❥Summary: You’re stuck on the Razor Crest with Mando and a group of mercenaries, but things get tense when you both get caught up in a dangerous mission to break someone out of a prison ship. Things heat up between you two, and before long, you’re caught up in a whirlwind of emotions. You and Mando have to sort out your complicated relationship and unspoken feelings for each other. Set around the events of “The Prisoner” episode (season 1 chapter 6). I highly recommend you watch it–if you haven’t already–for some background info but ofc it's not absolutely necessary.
❥CW: 18+ smut, sexual tension, violence, p in v, floor sex, fingering, mostly canon compliant, porn with plot, porn with feelings, maybe a tiny bit of angst, fighting, reader babysits grogu <3, 19k words
❥a/n: DISCLAIMER BEFORE YOU READ- I am well aware that many fics like this have been done before, and would like to acknowledge all of these amazing fics! And while these are all ideas I've outlined for a really long time, if anyone feels it is to similar to another fic, you can DM me and I will hear u out and change whatever needs to be changed lol. The outline for this fic has been in my drafts for years, and I finally decided to do something with it. She's a long one, so I apologize if there are any mistakes I missed, or if any of my ideas weren't written out clearly 🥲 I hope you enjoy <3
The hum of the Razor Crest filled the silence of the cramped quarters. Your hands, calloused from years of working on engines, were busy at the makeshift repair station you’d set up in the corner of the ship. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it was home. Or as close to home as you'd get now, after months of drifting from planet to planet, always on the run.
The metal beneath your fingers was warm as you twisted a wrench into place, but your mind wandered to the quiet figure that was never far from your thoughts.
The Mandalorian–or Mando, as you called him. There was always something magnetic about him, the way he moved with purpose, the stoic expression never giving away what was beneath. It kept you guessing. But after all this time, it wasn’t the silent looks or the odd, soft gestures that had your heart in knots. It was the way he made you feel seen in a galaxy that often overlooked people like you.
You let out a sigh as you wiped your grease-covered hands on a rag, glancing over to where the child’s little pod was resting quietly beside you. It was always quiet on the ship when Mando wasn’t around. The kid didn’t say much–or anything really, other than the occasional coo– but there was something comforting in the way he sat near you, playing with his favourite metal ball, tiny and serene. Something safe.
Your wrench slipped for a moment, and the clang of metal on metal sent a flicker of your memory through your mind. You could almost hear the bustling sounds of your old shop, the hum of speeders waiting for repairs, the dull chatter of the occasional customer coming in and out. That life felt distant now–a memory dulled by the constant movement of the Razor Crest. You missed it sometimes, the routine, the steady rhythm of life on that backwater planet. But that life had been torn apart the moment Mando landed in your yard with a broken ship and a bounty hunter’s target on his tail.
But the fire wasn’t the end. It was just the beginning—the moment everything shifted. You could still picture it clearly, the first time he stepped into your shop, long before the kid, long before everything fell apart.
-
It had been an ordinary day, hot and slow like most on that backwater planet. The sun had cast long shadows across the junkyard when the distinctive roar of a ship’s engines broke the monotony. You’d looked up to see a clunky, battle-worn ship descending—a hunk of metal that seemed more scrap heap than starship. You weren’t expecting much when the ramp lowered, but then he walked out, his beskar gleaming in the sunlight. He’d looked out of place there, a specter of something bigger, more dangerous than the quiet life you’d carved out for yourself.
“Repulsorlift’s shot,” he’d said simply, his voice tinny through the modulator. No pleasantries, no introductions. Just business.
You weren’t sure why, but you hadn’t been intimidated. Something about the way he held himself—rigid, guarded—felt almost… tired. Like he carried the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders and didn’t trust anyone to help bear it. You’d nodded, grabbed your tools, and set to work. You’d told yourself it was just another job, but something about him stuck with you. Maybe it was the way he’d watched your every move, silent but observant, or the faint hesitation in his voice when he’d finally said, “Thanks.” Or maybe it was the way he held himself, tall, alert, and slightly cocky, like he knew the intimidating effect he had on people.
That wasn’t the last time he showed up at your shop. Every few months, he’d come back, his ship battered and bruised from whatever trouble he’d gotten into. Sometimes it was a blown-out hyperdrive; other times, hull damage from a firefight. You didn’t ask questions, and he didn’t offer answers. But over time, the silences between you had started to feel less empty. He’d comment on the efficiency of your work, or you’d tease him about the state of his ship, and while he never laughed, you could’ve sworn you saw the slightest tilt of his helmet that hinted at amusement.
You’d grown to look forward to those visits. The sound of his engines overhead was enough to send a little thrill through you, though you’d never admit it. And every time he left, his ship a distant glint on the horizon, you felt the same pang of sadness. You’d watch until he was gone, telling yourself it was just the quiet returning that unsettled you. But deep down, you knew better.
And then came that day.
The day he landed not for repairs, but for refuge. The day he brought the kid into your life—and with him, all the chaos that followed.
You heard his ship land–well, more like a crash–outside your shop. You immediately dropped whatever mundane task you had been working on–the sight of the Crest sending your heart pounding for multiple reasons.
One, you’d get to see Mando a lot sooner than you thought you would, the thought of the tall, beskar clad man sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You tried to push the feeling away, thinking strictly of business.
Two, because the ship was in terrible shape–possibly the worst shape you’d ever seen.
You rushed to the door of your shop to immediately tend to the Crest–and to see the man you had secretly been harbouring a stupid crush on–but when you whipped the door open, nearly ripping it off its hinges, Mando was already there, standing tall and shiny before you.
You jumped, slightly spooked by the unexpected sight before regaining your composure. “Mando? What are yo–”
“I need your help,” he cut you off. He took a step closer to you, sending your heart pounding and cheeks heating under the gaze of his black visor. You could feel yourself getting flustered by his proximity. “Can I…come in?” he asked, confused by your silence and dumbfounded expression
Right. Yes, of course. He wasn’t stepping closer to you for the reasons you had wanted. You should probably step to the side and let him in. Averting your gaze, you stepped to the side of the doorway, allowing Mando to step inside the small shop before shutting the door behind him.
You looked out the window of your shop, seeing the sorry state of the ship. You cringed, the thought of all that work you spent on repairs being undone by whatever mess Mando had gotten himself into now.
“Stars, Mando. What the fuck did you do to that ship?” you questioned as your eyes scanned him for any injuries. It was silly of you to care so much about his well being–especially considering how well he could hold himself in a fight–but it didn’t stop you from worrying.
That’s when you noticed it. The satchel at his side holding something–or rather someone. Your eyes widened at the big brown eyes looking up at you, a soft coo leaving its little mouth. Mando tilted his helmet towards his satchel, lightly stroking the creature's big green ears before his visor fixed on you again.
“Mando, what the fuck,” you gasped, mouth hanging open in shock.
Mando shifted slightly, his broad shoulders stiffening as though bracing for your reaction. “It’s... complicated,” he said, his voice flat but with the faintest hint of hesitation.
You blinked, your gaze bouncing between him and the small green creature nestled in the satchel. It blinked back at you, wide-eyed and unassuming, as if this whole situation wasn’t entirely bizarre. “Complicated? Mando, this isn’t a blown hyperdrive or a cracked hull—it’s a kid.”
“I’m aware,” he replied dryly, adjusting the satchel as if to shield the child from your scrutiny.
Your mind reeled as you tried to piece together what you were seeing. You stepped closer, peering up into his inscrutable helmet. “So… what? You’re babysitting now?”
A soft coo from the child drew your attention, and you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. It was absurd, really—the hardened bounty hunter with a baby in tow. But when you looked back at him, something about the way he stood there, tense and guarded, made the smile fade.
“This isn’t permanent,” he said finally, his voice low. “I just need to keep him safe. For now.”
The weight in his tone struck a chord, and you realized this wasn’t just some odd detour for him. Whatever had brought Mando to your door wasn’t a simple favor or a quick repair. It was bigger than that—dangerous.
“Safe from what?” you asked, your voice softening.
He hesitated, and you saw his gloved hand flex at his side before he finally spoke. “The ones who want him back.”
Your stomach sank as the implications hit you. If someone was after the kid, it meant trouble—and a lot of it. “Kriff,” you muttered, rubbing a hand over your face. “You’re telling me you’ve got people hunting you now?”
“Yes,” Mando said, his voice steady but heavy with tension. His gloved hand rested lightly on the edge of the workbench, his helmet dipping slightly toward you. “And they’re not going to stop.”
Crossing your arms, you looked up at Mando with a frustrated look in your eyes, clearly not satisfied with the vague answers he was giving you. He sighed, knowing you wouldn't give this up, and briefly told you of how he and the kid crossed paths.
You glanced down at the child, who blinked up at you with big, curious eyes, a soft coo escaping his tiny mouth. It was impossible to stay mad with that face looking at you, even if the mess they’d brought to your doorstep was monumental.
“Alright,” you said with a resigned sigh, tossing the rag onto the bench. “What do you need from me?”
Mando straightened slightly, his presence somehow more commanding even in the cramped space of the shop. “I need you to watch him,” he said, nodding toward the child. “And fix the ship.” His helmet turned back toward you, and though you couldn’t see his eyes, you felt the weight of his gaze. “I’ll take care of the ones after us.”
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “Take care of them how?”
“I’ll find them before they find him,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious answer in the galaxy.
You blinked at him, your irritation softening into reluctant admiration. Of course, that was his plan. Run headfirst into danger to protect the kid, with no thought for himself. It was infuriatingly… noble.
“Right,” you said, exhaling sharply. “So, let me get this straight. You’re going to go off and hunt these people down, while I babysit and patch up the flying death trap you call a ship?”
His helmet tilted slightly. “That’s the idea.”
You shook your head, muttering under your breath, but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “And here I thought this was going to be a quiet day.”
“Quiet’s overrated,” he said, the barest hint of dry humor threading through his tone.
You snorted despite yourself, grabbing a set of tools from the workbench. “You’re lucky I’m a soft touch, Mando. You owe me. Big time.”
He didn’t respond to that, but the tilt of his helmet lingered on you for just a beat longer than necessary, as if he wanted to say something but decided against it. Instead, he stepped back, his hand resting briefly on the child’s pod.
“I won’t be gone long,” he said, his voice quieter now.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you shot back lightly, though the pang of worry in your chest betrayed your teasing tone.
Mando nodded once before turning to leave, his armor clinking softly as he moved. The child let out a curious coo, his big eyes following Mando until the door shut behind him.
You sighed, looking down at the little green bundle of chaos. “Looks like it’s just you and me, kid,” you muttered, reaching out to pat his tiny head. Then, with a glance out the window at the battered Razor Crest, you grabbed your tools and got to work.
You’d thought the babysitting would be an easy job. You thought the kid would sit in the corner, playing with whatever scrap metal he found while you worked on the Crest. Boy, were you wrong.
It started innocently enough. The kid had perched himself near the workbench, happily clutching his favorite metal ball from the Razor Crest’s lever. You’d thought, Great, he’s occupied. But the moment you turned your back to start on the ship’s mangled stabilizers, the little gremlin had somehow waddled over to a pile of tools, his tiny hands reaching for a wrench twice his size.
“No, no, no,” you muttered, rushing over and scooping him up before he could topple into the mess. He cooed at you, his big brown eyes wide and innocent, as if he hadn’t just been caught trying to cause chaos.
You set him back near his pod, this time surrounding him with a makeshift barricade of crates and spare parts. “Stay,” you instructed firmly, pointing a finger at him. He blinked up at you, looking entirely unimpressed, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
Satisfied he was contained, you turned your attention back to the Razor Crest, only to hear the unmistakable clang of something hitting the floor. Spinning around, you saw the kid holding a hydrospanner he’d somehow managed to grab from your toolbox, despite the barricade.
“Are you serious?” you groaned, snatching the tool from his little hands. He let out a disgruntled squeak, as if offended by your intervention.
This back-and-forth went on for what felt like hours. No matter where you put him or what distractions you offered—scrap parts, shiny bolts, even your own spare tools—he always found a way to escape and make a beeline for whatever could cause the most trouble.
Eventually, you admitted defeat. “Alright, fine,” you huffed, eyeing him as he sat on the floor, gnawing on a piece of wiring. “You win, kid.”
Desperate for a solution, you rummaged through your scrap pile until you found a long piece of fabric. It was a little dusty and frayed at the edges, but it would do. With a few quick knots and some adjustments, you fashioned it into a makeshift sling.
“Okay, little troublemaker,” you muttered, scooping him up and settling him into the sling. He looked up at you, blinking curiously as you secured him against your chest. “This way, I can keep an eye on you and actually get some work done.”
To your surprise, he seemed to like it. He snuggled against you with a contented coo, one tiny hand clutching your shirt as the other held his precious metal ball.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you murmured, shaking your head as you grabbed your tools and got back to work.
With the kid securely in the sling, things were… marginally easier. Sure, he still reached for anything shiny within arm’s length, and you had to be extra careful with your tools, but at least he wasn’t wandering off or attempting to dismantle your entire workshop.
As you worked on patching up the ship’s stabilizers, you found yourself talking to him without even thinking about it. “This stabilizer’s a mess,” you muttered, adjusting the sling slightly. “Mando really did a number on it this time. Honestly, I don’t know how this ship is still flying.”
The kid responded with a soft coo, his big eyes watching you intently as if he understood every word.
“Yeah, I know,” you said, glancing down at him with a small smile. “You’re probably used to this kind of chaos, huh? Well, don’t get too comfortable. I’m not planning on making this a habit.”
He let out a tiny, happy sound, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Alright, fine,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “Maybe it’s not so bad having you around. But don’t tell Mando I said that, okay?”
The kid blinked up at you, his expression as innocent as ever, and you swore you saw a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.
The clatter of metal sounding from your shop made you halt your tinkering. Sure, Mando had been gone a while, and probably should’ve been back by now, but he was composed and careful. He never would’ve knocked something over in your shop. Goosebumps appeared on the surface of your skin, the threat of some unknown person creeping around your shop alerting all your senses.
You reached for the blade strapped to your thigh, silently cursing yourself for leaving your blaster locked in a drawer on your workbench. Were the people who were after the kid here to take him? You placed the kid in his pod before turning towards the building.
Silently, you made your way to the entrance of your shop, your hands shaking slightly as you pressed yourself against the wall, listening for any signs of trouble.
The sound of another clatter echoed through the shop, sharper this time, like tools hitting the floor. Your heart pounded in your chest as you gripped the hilt of your blade tighter. The shadows in the dim light of the shop played tricks on your eyes, stretching and shifting as you tried to steady your breathing.
A muffled voice—low and gruff—reached your ears, confirming your worst fear. Someone was in your shop.
The kid let out a faint coo from his pod, and you whipped your head around to shush him, your finger pressed to your lips. “Stay quiet,” you whispered, barely audible. His wide eyes blinked at you, and you prayed he understood.
Drawing a deep breath, you crept forward, the cold metal of your blade reassuring in your hand. You could make out faint footsteps now, moving further into the shop. Whoever it was, they didn’t seem to be in any hurry. That wasn’t a good sign.
You rounded the corner slowly, keeping your steps light, your back pressed against the wall. When the intruder finally came into view, your stomach sank. It wasn’t just one person—it was two. Both were heavily armed, with blasters holstered at their sides and rifles slung across their backs. Their armor was mismatched and worn, but their movements were confident, predatory.
“Check the back,” one of them barked, his voice grating and impatient. The other nodded and began heading toward the rear of the shop—toward the Razor Crest.
Kriff.
Your mind raced. If they got anywhere near the kid, it would be over. You needed to act, but taking on two armed bounty hunters with nothing but a blade was suicide.
Suddenly, an idea struck you. It wasn’t much, but it was all you had.You waited for the first hunter to disappear further into the shop, his boots echoing faintly as he moved toward the back. The second hunter, a stocky figure with a jagged scar running down the side of his face, lingered near your workbench, scanning the room. His back was to you.
This was your chance.
Quietly, you shifted the kid’s pod further into the shadows and gripped your blade tightly. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you crept toward the hunter, careful not to make a sound.
When you were within striking distance, you sprang forward, plunging the blade into his neck. He grunted in pain, twisting toward you as he fumbled for his blaster, but you yanked the weapon from his holster before he could grab it. With a sharp shove, you sent him crashing into the bench, his head slamming against the edge before he slumped to the floor, motionless.
You barely had time to catch your breath before the other hunter’s voice rang out.
“Hey! Stop right there!”
You whirled around to see him at the far end of the shop, his blaster already raised. Without thinking, you dove behind a stack of crates as the first shot sizzled past your ear.
Blaster fire erupted, and you returned fire, your hands shaking as you squeezed the trigger. The noise was deafening in the enclosed space, sparks flying as shots struck metal and ricocheted wildly.
The hunter was relentless, his shots forcing you to stay pinned behind the crates. You peeked out just long enough to fire back, but your aim was far from precise. The tension built as the seconds ticked by, the energy pack in your stolen blaster rapidly depleting.
Finally, the unmistakable sound of a weapon sputtering signaled the hunter’s blaster running dry. You tried to fire again, only to hear the same disheartening click from your own weapon.
Great. Just great.
Panic clawed at your chest as you scrambled to come up with a plan. You glanced toward the Razor Crest—so close, yet so far. The kid’s pod was still tucked in the shadows where you’d left it, but you couldn’t leave him here.
You moved cautiously, trying to stay hidden as you made your way toward the ship. You'd find a better weapon on the Crest and then come back for the kid. The shop was eerily quiet now, save for the sound of your own ragged breathing. You were almost there, the Razor Crest’s ramp in sight, when a rough hand grabbed you from behind and slammed you to the ground.
The impact knocked the wind out of you, and before you could react, the hunter was on top of you, his hand clamping around your throat.
“You thought you could take us out?” he snarled, his grip tightening. “Big mistake.”
You clawed at his hand, gasping for air as your vision blurred. Desperation took over, and you thrashed beneath him, your hands fumbling for anything to defend yourself with. But he was too strong, his weight pinning you down as darkness crept in at the edges of your vision.
Then, a sharp, sudden whizz cut through the air, followed by the heavy thud of the hunter’s body collapsing on top of you. His grip on your throat loosened, and you shoved him off with a gasp, coughing as you struggled to sit up.
Your blurry vision cleared just enough to see a familiar figure standing in the doorway, his blaster still raised. The Mandalorian.
He strode toward you, his movements quick and purposeful. “Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice steady but with an edge of concern.
You shook your head, still catching your breath. “I’m—fine,” you managed to croak, though your throat ached and your heart was still pounding.
Mando’s visor tilted down to the kid’s pod, which had rolled out of its hiding spot in the chaos. The child cooed softly, seemingly unbothered by the commotion.
Mando turned back to you. “Get him on the ship,” he ordered. “Now.”
You nodded, scrambling to your feet as he turned toward the doorway, his blaster ready for any more threats.
The kid’s pod glided up the Razor Crest’s ramp, its quiet hum the only reprieve in the cacophony of chaos around you. Your hands shook as you secured him in the ship’s hold, glancing back toward the shop’s entrance where shouts and sporadic blaster fire echoed in the distance.
You exhaled sharply. This wasn’t over. Not even close.
There was no time to waste. You darted back down the ramp and toward the exterior hull of the Razor Crest, scanning for the damage you hadn’t had time to address earlier. The scorch marks along the port engine told you everything you needed to know. That engine wouldn’t make it through hyperspace—not in its current state.
You grabbed your toolkit and scrambled onto the hull, nearly slipping as adrenaline and panic coursed through your veins. Shouts grew louder, closer. You could hear the unmistakable hiss and pop of blaster fire—Mando was holding them off, but for how long?
Your hands worked as quickly as they could, tightening bolts, rerouting power lines, and sealing cracks with a welding torch. Sparks flew as you worked, the harsh light illuminating the frantic expression on your face.
“Come on, come on,” you muttered under your breath, wiping sweat from your brow with a grease-streaked hand.
The blaster fire outside grew louder, more rapid. A cry of pain echoed over the chaos, and you flinched, your pulse pounding in your ears. You couldn’t tell who it belonged to—Mando or one of the bounty hunters—but you didn’t dare look.
A warning beep sounded from your wrist comm. The ship’s diagnostics reported a critical error in the starboard stabilizer.
Kriff.
You slid off the hull, landing hard on your feet, and ran to the other side of the ship. The stabilizer was bent out of alignment, and you cursed under your breath as you wrenched it back into place with all your strength. Your muscles screamed in protest, but you didn’t stop.
In the distance, the sound of gunfire suddenly ceased. The silence was almost worse than the chaos, your mind racing with the possibilities of what it meant.
“Mando?” you whispered under your breath, glancing toward the shop’s entrance.
Your answer came seconds later as the man himself appeared, sprinting toward you with his blaster still in hand. His beskar armor was scorched in places, and his breathing was heavy, but he didn’t slow down.
“They’re dead,” he said sharply, his voice modulated but firm. “But more will come. A lot more.”
Your hands froze mid-motion, your heart sinking as his words hit you. “What—what do you mean?”
Mando grabbed your arm, his visor fixed on you. “You’ve been seen with me. That makes you a target.”
Panic began to rise in your chest, your breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. “I can’t—Mando, this is my home!”
“I know,” he said, his voice softer this time, but no less urgent. “It’s not safe anymore. You need to pack what you can and get on the ship. Now.”
Tears stung at the corners of your eyes as your mind raced. “I—I don’t know what to take—”
“Hey.” Mando’s hand gripped your arm tighter, grounding you. His tone was steady, even reassuring. “It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna take care of this. But we need to move. Go upstairs and get your stuff.”
His words, though brief, were enough to snap you out of your spiraling thoughts. You nodded frantically, pulling away and sprinting toward the stairs that led to your small room above the shop.
Your hands shook as you threw open drawers and grabbed clothes, tools, and whatever personal belongings you could fit into a small bag. The room, once your sanctuary, now felt stifling, like the walls were closing in on you.
The kid’s soft coos echoed faintly from below, reminding you why you couldn’t stay, why you couldn’t afford to hesitate. You shoved a photo of your old life—a younger you, covered in grease and smiling in front of the shop—into the bag before zipping it shut.
With one last look at the room that had been your home, you turned and bolted down the stairs, your heart pounding as you raced toward the Razor Crest. Mando was already at the ramp, his visor fixed on the horizon, scanning for more threats.
“Let’s go,” he said, gesturing for you to board.
You didn’t hesitate.
That was months ago.
The day you left your old life behind, running on impulse, never imagining you'd still be here—on the Razor Crest, floating from one planet to the next. You were supposed to find another place to settle, start fresh somewhere far from everything. But that had never really happened. Not with Mando around. Not with the way things had fallen into place between you two.
You never had the chance to leave, and, to be honest, you didn’t really want to.
Neither did he. Though, neither of you would ever admit it out loud. The thought of you leaving had become this quiet tension in the air whenever you got too close to speaking about it. He never pushed, and you never asked. But the way his gloved hand would brush yours when handing you tools, the way his presence seemed to fill the small space of the ship—those things said more than words ever could.
In the months that followed, you’d become a sort of permanent fixture on the Razor Crest. A mechanic, a babysitter, a companion in this strange, wandering life. You worked on the ship in between watching over the kid, fixing what needed fixing, and ensuring the Razor Crest was always ready to fly.
Mando paid you a percentage of the bounties he earned, and you used that as your excuse for staying. You were “just doing your job.”
But it wasn’t just that. You and Mando had fallen into something of an unspoken routine, a domesticity you hadn't expected but quickly came to rely on. You knew when he needed food and when he needed space. He knew when to leave you alone while you tinkered and when to offer a quiet word of encouragement or the occasional teasing comment.
His humor, once dry and almost imperceptible, was starting to show itself more. He’d crack jokes now, and it felt oddly comforting. He still kept his distance, his words few, but those moments of levity made you feel like maybe you weren't just an accessory to his mission. Maybe, just maybe, you were becoming something more.
And it hurt, in a way. Because the more time passed, the more your feelings for him grew. There was something deeper there—something more than camaraderie or just shared circumstances. But you couldn’t let him know that. You wouldn’t. The last thing you wanted was for him to take one look at you, all vulnerable and tangled up in emotions, and then kick you to the curb, dropping you off on the next planet, saying it was time to go your separate ways.
You had to keep it buried. It was safer that way. For both of you.
Still, in the quiet moments between tasks, when Mando was off somewhere dealing with a bounty or when you were fixing the ship on your own, the longing would flare up in your chest. You'd think of his quiet gestures, his rare jokes, and wonder what could be. But you'd shove it down, focusing on the ship or the kid, anything to distract you.
That didn’t stop you from fantasizing though. In the shower, your mind would always wander to him–to his teasing, his hardened exterior, to the rare moments he would take his gloves off, the flesh of his thick fingers on display for you. Only then would you slip a hand between your thighs, biting down your whimpers as your calloused fingertips circled your clit to the thought of the sliver of flesh he allowed you to see. Stars, you were like a mutt in heat.
You weren’t foolish. You knew better than to hope for something you couldn’t have. So you didn’t let yourself have hope. You decided you’d push your feelings down and continue on with this job for however long Mando would have you.
-
The hum of the Razor Crest's engines gently vibrated through the floor, but the sound of the cockpit door sliding open was enough to pull you from your spiraling thoughts of your past. You turned your attention toward the entrance, expecting to see Mando, and sure enough, he emerged, his silhouette framed by the doorway. The familiar weight of his presence filled the space.
“Strap in,” he said, his voice modulated and calm, but there was an underlying urgency in his words. "We're landing."
You blinked, momentarily confused before following him into the cockpit and taking a seat. Landing somewhere? You’d been drifting through space, the Razor Crest just a speck of metal in the endless expanse, but now he was pulling you into something new. “Why here?” you asked, crossing your arms instinctively, though it wasn’t like Mando to offer unnecessary explanations.
He didn’t turn to face you, instead reaching for a switch to adjust the ship’s descent. “I need you to stay on the ship with the kid until I come back,” he said flatly. “Don’t make yourself known.”
Your brow furrowed, and you instinctively shifted closer to him, tension building as you processed his words. “Mando, what’s going on? What’s all this about?” You were met with nothing but silence as his hand hovered over the controls, his visor giving away nothing.
“I’m not asking you to do anything,” he said, voice growing slightly firmer. “Stay inside. Stay out of sight.”
You swallowed hard, uncertainty gnawing at you, but his expression remained unchanged. You wanted to press further, but you knew better than to argue. His rules were simple: obey, or risk the consequences. He’d never put you in danger, but this—this felt different.
With a reluctant nod, you sat back, your hands instinctively reaching for the strap of your seatbelt as the ship began its descent. The thought of being left alone on the ship with just the kid, a few meters of metal between you and whatever Mando was about to face, made the hairs on your neck stand on end. Something wasn’t right, but you had no choice but to trust him.
He was already heading for the ramp before you could voice any more questions. The last thing you saw was him disappearing into the dimly lit expanse of the strange industrial ship you landed on before the hatch slammed shut behind him, leaving you with nothing but the soft gurgles of the child in the background and the distant whirring of the ship's systems.
The hum of the ship was different now—throbbing, industrial, almost foreboding. It reminded you of the kind of stations you’d passed through in your earlier years, those heavy, unwelcoming places where you’d never feel entirely safe. The interior of the ship felt cold, metallic, and clinical, the kind of place you imagined shady deals went down. You’d watched Mando as he moved about, speaking to some of the others, his posture tense, his visor fixed on everything and everyone around him.
You glanced at the kid, who was nestled in his little pod next to you, cooing softly as he fiddled with the small metal ball. His innocence, his trust in you, made everything feel that much more dangerous. Your stomach churned with a mixture of anxiety and anger.
“What the fuck has Mando gotten himself into now?” you muttered under your breath, a sense of dread settling over you. You had a sinking feeling that this wasn’t a job he could just walk away from.
The minutes dragged on, and you sat in the cockpit, trying to keep your thoughts from spiraling. You glanced at the kid again, trying to calm yourself as his big, trusting eyes met yours. You didn’t want to think about the trouble Mando had landed in, or the dangers lurking around them. But it was hard to ignore, especially as you sat there alone, waiting.
Half an hour later, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the ship, and the door to the cockpit swung open. You barely had time to react before Mando was there, grabbing you by the arm with surprising force.
“Come on,” he said, his voice clipped and urgent.
“Mando?” you started, feeling a flicker of panic. “What’s going on?”
But he didn’t answer. Instead, he practically dragged you through the narrow and cramped ship, ignoring your protests.
“What the hell are you doing?!” you hissed, trying to pull free, but he only gripped you tighter.
“Mando—seriously, what’s going on?” You struggled, trying to get some kind of explanation, but he kept walking, heading toward the back of the ship.
When you finally reached his sleeping quarters, he shoved the door open, dragging you inside.
“Stay here,” he ordered sharply. “With the kid. It’s gonna be a while, so you might as well get comfortable and sleep. Don’t come out until I tell you it’s okay.”
You stopped in your tracks, disbelief flooding your chest. “Mando, what the fuck?” you snapped, frustration bubbling over. “You better start explaining yourself right now.”
But he just brushed you off, his tone hard, like he wasn’t even going to entertain your question. “I’ll explain later. Just listen to me,” he said, his voice growing more forceful.
Before you could respond, the door was already closing in your face, and Mando was gone.
You stood there for a moment, seething, your heart pounding in your chest. “Kriffing Mandalorian…” you muttered under your breath. This was so typical of him—keep you in the dark, like you were just some bystander in his chaotic life.
Still, despite the rage burning through you, you knew better than to disobey him now. Whatever was going on, it was serious. So you sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed, trying to calm yourself. You glanced over at the kid, still blissfully unaware of the tension surrounding them.
It didn’t make sense. He promised he’d explain, but you had a feeling it was going to be a lot longer before that happened.
And that pissed you off even more.
An hour had passed, and you were still fuming. The anger, the confusion, the sense of being trapped—all of it swirled inside you, making it hard to focus. You paced around the small quarters, trying to burn off some of the frustration. You wanted to scream, to demand answers, but you knew better. Mando wasn’t going to budge until he was ready, and until then, you were stuck in his room, with nothing but your own seething thoughts for company.
Your eyes flickered to the bed. A part of you knew you wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon, and if you were going to be stuck in here, you might as well make yourself comfortable. You glanced down at your mechanic clothes—dirt-streaked, sweaty, and uncomfortable—and sighed. There was no point in staying in them. But with Mando having locked you in here, your own clothes were still back on the ship, out of reach.
Frustrated, you stood up, scanning the room for anything that could be used. Your gaze landed on the drawer where he kept his few clothes. You hesitated for only a moment before walking over, your fingers trailing over the fabric of his shirts. You weren’t sure why you felt a little nervous, but you pushed the thought aside. You needed something clean, and it wasn’t like you hadn’t worn his clothes before. Your cheeks heated as you thought of the time you had to leave the fresher in just a towel to ask him for a shirt because all of your clothes were dirty.
After a moment of deliberation, you grabbed one of his shirts, large and soft-looking. You quickly stripped out of your dirty clothes and pulled his shirt over your head. The fabric was thick and worn, the hem barely covering your panty clad ass, and the smell of him hit you immediately—earthy, leather, and something distinctly Mando. You froze for a moment, the scent making your chest tighten, heat rising to your cheeks.
It was just a shirt. Just a shirt.
But it felt like more. You pulled the fabric down, letting it drape over your body, and as you did, the soft cotton brushed against your bare skin, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. It was so different from your usual work clothes, so much softer, so much… him. Your breath caught in your throat as you stood there, suddenly aware of the fact that you were standing in his bedroom wearing his clothes, all of it feeling far too intimate for your liking.
Your thoughts wandered, and before you could stop yourself, you imagined what it would be like for him to see you like this, in his clothes, the smell of him all around you. Your mind flashed to the moments you tried to ignore—his gloved hands brushing yours, the teasing comments that made your stomach flutter, the times your eyes lingered on the way his armor shifted with his movements.
You quickly snapped yourself out of it. “Focus,” you muttered under your breath. You had more important things to think about than some ridiculous fantasy.
You glanced down at the kid’s pod. He was still sleeping, the small form curled up in his blankets. You smiled softly at him before walking over and quietly closing the pod, making sure he was settled for his nap. You needed to distract yourself, so you decided to climb into Mando’s bed, but not before strapping your blade to your bare thigh–just to ease the paranoid feeling in your chest.
It felt strange, unfamiliar, but there was comfort in it. You pulled the covers up around you, feeling the warmth of the bed seep into your bones, and before you knew it, your eyes drifted shut.
The soft hum of the ship, the muffled sounds of the engine, and the occasional clink of metal from somewhere in the hall lulled you into a deep sleep.
But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming, your paranoia fueled dreams filled with nightmares of Mando in trouble.
Mando’s secret, whatever he was caught up in, was far from over, and you weren’t going to sit idly by much longer. You had to be ready when the time came. But for now, you let yourself rest, hoping sleep would give you the answers that Mando wouldn’t.
You woke up a few hours later, your body stiff and groggy from sleep. The soft hum of the Razor Crest and the quiet whirring of the kid’s pod were the only sounds filling the otherwise still room. You blinked, rubbing your eyes as you tried to shake off the lingering fog of sleep. The kid was still nestled in his pod, curled up in the corner, his small chest rising and falling rhythmically. You closed his pod, not wanting to disturb his nap.
You let out a quiet sigh, stretching your limbs before you reached for your holopad. You were trying to distract yourself, keep your mind off what had just happened, and the nagging sense of unease that had settled deep in your chest. You flicked the holopad on, scrolling through schematics and plans for the ship—small upgrades here and there. The kid, the trapped feeling of being stuck in Mando’s room, and whatever Mando had gotten himself into were all still there, lingering in your thoughts, but you tried to push them aside for the moment.
But just as you were about to get lost in the designs, the door slid open with a sudden hiss. Your heart stopped for a moment, and you immediately shot to your feet, your hand instinctively going to the blade still strapped to your thigh. Your pulse quickened as you tried to get a read on the situation. Your eyes widened as you saw a group of figures standing in the doorway. You recognized none of them, but the sight of them immediately put you on edge.
There was a tall, scruffy-looking man who stood a little too confidently, his arms crossed over his chest. Behind him was a twi’lek woman in dark clothes, her stance aggressive and assertive. Next to them, a Devaronian with a thick, muscular build and sharp, menacing horns stood with his arms crossed. And then, there was the droid—shiny and polished, but with an unmistakable, almost robotic indifference to everything around it.
They all froze when they saw you standing there in Mando’s shirt, the fabric hanging loosely around your frame, and nothing else but your panties and the holster with your blade strapped to your thigh. You had no choice but to stand there, caught off guard and feeling exposed, like a deer in headlights.
A soft whistle came from one of the men—the scruffy one. “Well, well, what have we here?”
You immediately stiffened, your jaw clenching in irritation at the obvious look of interest in his eyes. You knew exactly where this was going. It wasn’t just the way he looked at you—it was in the way he spoke. You didn’t like it one bit.
Before you could respond, Mando’s helmet snapped toward the man with a sharpness you hadn’t seen before. The tension in the room skyrocketed as he moved toward the doorway, his posture aggressive. His voice was low, almost growling as he addressed the man.
“Keep your eyes to yourself,” Mando said coldly, his tone carrying a warning that left no room for argument.
The man didn’t say anything, but the expression on his face told you he wasn’t pleased by the command. He looked like he was going to retort, but then, the Twi’lek woman standing behind him spoke up, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Well, well, Mando. Who’s this?” she said with a mocking smile, her bright eyes narrowing as she looked you up and down. “I didn’t realize you kept pets on the ship.”
You felt a surge of heat in your chest at her words, the insult hanging heavy in the air. You weren’t anyone’s pet—least of all Mando’s. You couldn’t hold back the anger that bubbled up, your hands clenching into fists as you glared at the Twi’lek.
“I am none of your fucking business,” you snapped, voice dripping with contempt. “Who the fuck are you?”
The woman didn’t flinch. If anything, she seemed to take delight in your reaction. Her smile only widened, her posture even more arrogant now. “I’m just curious about who Mando’s letting on his ship these days. Not everyone gets the privilege.”
You felt the heat of your anger rising, each word she spoke only fanning the flames. The tension between the two of you was palpable, the unspoken challenge hanging in the air as she watched you closely, almost daring you to react.
“Well, it’s not your concern,” you spat, your voice as sharp as a blade.
Her lips curled into a smirk, and she leaned in just slightly. “Oh, I think it is.”
You could feel her goading you, trying to get under your skin. And she was succeeding. You stood there, seething, ready to snap. This was not the time to back down.
The Twi’lek woman’s eyes gleamed with a mischievous spark as she leaned forward, her voice dripping with malice. “I see why Mando keeps you around,” she purred, glancing you up and down again, her words cutting like a knife. “Must be nice to have a pretty little thing to play with… I didn’t realize he had a taste for whores.”
The words cut through you like a vibroblade, sharper and more personal than you anticipated. A flush of heat spread across your face, not from embarrassment, but from sheer, unadulterated rage. This bitch. The audacity. The way her eyes lingered on you made it feel like you were exposed, like she could see every inch of your skin, and she didn’t even care about the weight of her insult.
You felt your pulse spike, your body tensing as the anger coiled inside you. Without thinking, your hand moved to the knife at your thigh, your fingers curling around the hilt of it. The impulse was immediate and intense—shut her up, make her regret those words—and your instincts took over. You yanked the blade free, your heart hammering as you lunged at her, your movements fueled by a desperate need for retaliation.
But before you could get within arm’s reach of the smug Twi’lek woman, you felt a forceful grip around your waist. You barely had time to register the movement before you were yanked off the ground, lifted effortlessly as if you weighed nothing. Your legs instinctively wrapped around the person who caught you, your body pressed against their chest.
Mando. Of course.
His strong arm held you in place, cradling you with a level of ease that made your head spin. You could feel his armor-clad body against yours, his heat radiating through the layers of metal. His grip on your arm tightened, pulling your knife hand away from the Twi’lek woman as he murmured in your ear, his voice low and unyielding. “I don’t like this as much as you do,” he said, his words steady and calm despite the chaos of the situation. “But I need you to trust me… and behave.”
His other hand slid under you, lifting you higher, and suddenly, your legs were wrapped tightly around him, your body pressed flush against his. You couldn’t help the shiver that raced up your spine at the feeling of his strength. The way he held you, with such casual confidence, sent a jolt of heat straight to your core. You hadn’t realized just how strong he was—how capable—until now. He was holding you like it was nothing, like you were weightless in his grasp.
For a split second, your mind went completely blank, overwhelmed by the heat of the situation and the proximity of his body. His gloved hand brushed over the bare skin of your thigh as he effortlessly disarmed you, slipping the knife back into its holster.
You tried to focus, tried to ignore the way your pulse quickened and your breath caught in your throat, but it was impossible. The heat curling low in your belly was undeniable. His body was pressed so close to yours, the firm outline of his armor against your skin sending a wave of desire through you. You felt it in every nerve, every inch of your body—his strength, his control, his scent mixed with the sterile, metallic smell of his armor.
Get it together, you silently told yourself. This is not the time for this.
You forced your mind back to reality, but that didn’t stop the heat building in your chest. You were angry. Angry at the way the Twi’lek woman spoke to you, angry at Mando for not telling you about the kind of people he associated with, and now… you were angry at yourself for the way your body reacted to Mando’s proximity.
You gritted your teeth, your breath uneven as you glared at him. “Fine,” you bit out, your voice tight, but still laced with frustration. “But we’re having a conversation about this later.”
Mando’s helmet angled down toward you, his posture still as rigid as ever, but there was something in the way he held you that was… different. His hand lingered on your thigh for a moment longer than necessary, as if he was aware of the effect his touch had on you. He said nothing, but the silent understanding between the two of you was palpable. He was warning you, but not in a way that felt threatening. He wasn’t going to let you do anything rash, but he also wasn’t dismissing your emotions.
For a second, you thought you saw something flicker in his stance—something that felt almost… personal. No, you were imagining things–being hopeful. You had to put a stop to these feelings.
Mando put you back on your feet, though his hand slid up to your waist where it stayed. You tried not to let the contact fluster you.
The Twi’lek woman’s sharp, mocking voice broke the silence.“Didn’t take long for him to claim his territory, huh?” she sneered, clearly amused by the entire situation.
You wanted nothing more than to scream at her, to make her understand that you were not some prize to be claimed. But Mando’s grip on you was unwavering, and as much as your chest burned with the desire to lash out, you knew you had to hold your ground. You were mad. So mad. But you did trust him. You had to, even if it was hard to ignore the simmering resentment that had started to build.
And yet… you couldn’t help but feel that familiar pang of something else whenever he was close. The heat in your chest, the pulse of desire that wouldn’t die down no matter how much you tried to suppress it.
Mando didn’t look at the woman, didn’t address her taunts, but he was done with her blatant disrespect towards you. His helmet snapped toward her mercilessly, and his voice, cold and firm, rang out. “Enough, Xi’An.”
The Twi’lek’s smirk faltered for a second, but she only laughed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, please. Like I’m scared of you, Mando.”
You bit your lip, feeling your face flush with the rush of emotions flooding through you—rage, frustration, and something darker that you couldn’t quite name. You wanted to scream at both of them, but instead, you clenched your fists and fought back the urge to lash out. This wasn’t how you imagined today going.
The ship suddenly lurched violently, throwing you and the others in the ship off balance. The abruptness of it sent your body into a panic, your instincts kicking in. Before you could even process the sudden movement, the world tilted, and you found yourself tumbling forward.
You didn’t even have time to brace yourself. The floor came rushing at you, but before you hit it, a pair of strong arms caught you, lifting you effortlessly into the air. You gasped as you were pulled against a hard, armored chest, your heart racing from both the shock of the lurch and the overwhelming proximity to Mando. His body was like a rock against yours, the heat radiating through his armor making your already flushed skin burn hotter. You barely had time to register the way his arms wrapped around you, holding you close, before you were on the ground, his weight coming down on top of you as he shielded you with his own body.
“Easy,” he murmured, his voice calm, even though the ship continued to shudder beneath you.
You were frozen for a moment, your chest pressed to his, your body pinned beneath the weight of his armored form. His helmet loomed above you, a protective barrier between you and everything else, and yet it felt strangely intimate. The way he held you was possessive, urgent, as if he were determined to shield you from any harm—no matter the cost. His gloved hands braced on either side of your head, his body still covering yours as the ship continued to shudder, throwing the others in the ship around from the turbulence.
Your breath hitched as the full reality of the situation washed over you. You were under him, pinned by his bulk, and his body was pressed so intimately against yours that you could feel the hard edges of his armor in places that left you breathless. His chest rose and fell in steady rhythms, and your heart beat eratically. The heat between the two of you was almost unbearable, your legs still trapped beneath him, your body pressed tightly against his in ways that sent shivers down your spine.
Mando’s voice, low and gravelly, broke the tension. “You’re alright,” he murmured softly, his gloved hand sliding from the floor, brushing against your arm as he made sure you were stable. He seemed almost… tender in that moment, as though the concern for your safety was as real as the weight of his body on top of you.
For a second, you didn’t know how to react. Your body was still pressed against his, every inch of you aware of how close you were, and the intensity of the moment sent a wave of heat crashing through you. The way he held you, the way his body moved with yours, had you feeling almost helpless in his arms—and you couldn’t decide if you hated or loved the feeling.
Your pulse raced—not from fear, but from something else. Something you didn’t want to acknowledge. The magnetic pull between you and him was undeniable, and you tried to push it down, tried to focus on the situation at hand.
The ship shuddered again, but Mando didn’t budge. His body remained a solid barrier over yours, the press of his weight keeping you grounded. The Twi’lek woman’s laughter cut through the air, but it felt distant now, like background noise compared to the electric current between you and Mando.
For a moment, the world outside of you and him faded. All you could hear was his steady breathing and the rapid pulse that thrummed between the two of you. Every inch of your body was acutely aware of his, and that undeniable heat curled low in your belly.
He was still on top of you, and the temptation to lean into him, to feel the raw intensity of the situation, was almost too strong to resist. You could feel the weight of his body, the power in his frame, and you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining how it would feel if you were pinned down under different circumstances, the feeling of Mando’s bare hands pinning your wrists above you as he thrusted deep inside of yo–Get a grip, you thought to yourself, shoving that thought down as fast as it came.
Mando’s helmet shifted slightly, his visor meeting your gaze. His gloved hands moved from the ground to your waist, a reassuring touch—though it wasn’t gentle. The way he had you under his control, even in this chaotic moment, made it hard to focus on anything other than the sheer closeness between you.
“We’ll be landing soon. There is just some minor turbulence,” the metallic voice of the droid chirped.
The ship lurched again, but it barely registered. Your mind was consumed by the feeling of Mando above you, his body pressing into you with an almost unnatural force. And yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling of vulnerability as he held you there, even as you hated it. The way his presence was all-encompassing, grounding you in a way that left you feeling both safe and exposed at the same time. You had no idea how to navigate it, how to balance the raw tension with the danger of the situation.
His gloved hand brushed against your skin once more, and the quiet moment stretched between you like a taut wire, the atmosphere charged with something you didn’t know how to name. His touch lingered at your waist just a moment too long, as though he was trying to gauge whether you were okay—or maybe trying to pull back, just in case you weren’t. But you didn’t pull away. You didn’t push him off. You didn’t want to.
Finally, as the ship’s movements slowed, Mando shifted off of you, but not without that final lingering touch. It was almost possessive, his palm brushing your skin, sending a jolt through you. He didn’t say a word, though, just helped you to your feet, his hand steady at your back as you stood. But the distance between you both felt heavier than it should have, as if the silence stretched between you two with a weight that was more than just the aftermath of turbulence.
You didn’t meet his gaze immediately. Instead, you stood there, trying to calm the pounding in your chest, but the words came out before you could stop them. “Don’t ever do that again.”
The moment your words left your lips, you felt the shift. His posture stiffened, and for the briefest moment, you saw the flicker of something in the way his body tensed. Maybe it was the way he didn’t look at you. Maybe it was the slight hesitation before he helped you up. Whatever it was, it caught you off guard. It made you second-guess the sharpness of your tone, but it also made something twist uncomfortably in your chest.
You could feel the air between you change, thick with unspoken things. Was it embarrassment? Guilt? Was he angry? You couldn’t tell, but something in the way he held back now made you feel even more uncertain than before.
He helped you to your feet, guiding you down the narrow hallway, and despite the tense silence, there was an undeniable closeness between you both. The air still felt heavy with everything that had just happened. His gloved hand brushed against your bare skin, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down your spine, but he didn’t linger on it.
“Sorry…” he muttered, his voice almost too quiet to hear. His tone didn’t carry any weight of guilt, just an acknowledgment that hung in the air between you like an unspoken understanding. He didn’t dwell on it, and neither did you. It was easier to pretend it hadn’t shaken you, easier to ignore the way your pulse still raced from the moments that had passed.
You both moved in sync toward the sleeping quarters, the weight of the earlier tension still present but unspoken. Mando didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to. Neither of you had the words for it just yet, but you both knew things had shifted.
What was this? You didn’t know.
But there was one thing you were sure of.
You were in way over your head.
As you entered the sleeping quarters, Mando moved with purpose, glancing over at the child’s pod. The little one was still asleep, his rhythmic breathing soft and steady. A small, reassuring weight lifted off your chest at the sight of him, but the rest of your body was still tense—still filled with the residual heat and anger from the scene with the Twi’lek woman.
Mando moved toward the child’s pod, checking the controls and making sure everything was functioning as it should. The last thing you wanted was for the kid to be disturbed. After all, he had been through enough.
He stood over the pod for a moment, his back to you, and you took that brief moment to compose yourself, trying to ignore the tumultuous thoughts swirling in your head. You needed space, and right now, Mando was giving you none.
Once he was satisfied that the kid was fine, Mando shut the pod with a soft hiss, turning to face you. His helmet was angled in such a way that you couldn’t see his eyes, but you could feel the weight of his gaze. He stepped toward you, his movements still deliberate, his presence still suffocating.
“We need to make sure the kid stays out of sight from the others,” Mando said, his voice low, but not unkind. “It’s gonna get a little rough out there. I need you to trust me.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but he interrupted you, holding a hand up. “Look, I’ll explain everything in a minute. I just need you to stay here for now, get dressed. I might need you to pilot the ship or handle something else once we’re out of here.”
The order was clear, but there was something about his tone that made it feel like more of a plea than a command. He wasn’t asking for your help, not exactly. He was telling you to stay put, but it wasn’t with the usual coldness you’d come to expect. It was… softer. And that made your pulse quicken all over again.
Still, you were pissed. The situation was still a mess, and you hadn’t forgotten about the way the Twi’lek woman had looked at you, her sneering words still echoing in your mind. You wanted answers, and you weren’t sure when you were going to get them.
But Mando wasn’t done. He took a step closer, his gloved hand resting on your shoulder for just a second, like he was trying to comfort you, but you weren’t sure if it was working.
“We’re going to be breaking Xi’An’s brother out of a prison ship,” he said quickly, his words cutting through the quiet of the room. “The job’s straightforward—get in, get him out, and get out. But things might get tricky. There’s a lot at stake here, and you need to be ready for anything.”
You nodded, absorbing the information. A prison break, of course. That was what this was all about. You had assumed something shady was going on, but you hadn’t expected the situation to be this complicated.
Mando shifted uncomfortably, his helmet remaining fixed in your direction, and he continued, voice more commanding now. “Once we break out Xi’An’s brother, I’ll need you to pilot the ship. I’ll be in and out of there quickly, but you’re going to have to move fast to get us out of there when the time comes.”
He paused for a moment, his helmet still angled toward you, as though considering something for a brief second. “You can handle that, right?”
The question was direct, but there was something in his voice that almost sounded like concern, though you couldn’t be sure. You weren’t exactly keen on being left behind to do the heavy lifting of a prison break, but you understood why he had to ask. You gave him a firm nod, your lips pressing into a thin line.
“Yeah, I’ve got it covered,” you replied, voice tight but determined.
Mando’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but he didn’t make any move to leave. Instead, there was a slight hesitation in the air, a shift that made your pulse quicken without quite knowing why. It was almost as if he was gathering his thoughts, trying to find the right words. Then, without warning, his voice came out in a low, gravelly tone.
“You…” He trailed off, his tone softer than you’d heard it before. “You look good in my shirt.”
The words hung in the air, completely unexpected and far more intimate than you were ready for. Your mouth opened, as if to respond, but before you could get a single word out, Mando had already turned toward the door, his heavy steps carrying him toward the exit.
“Get dressed,” he called over his shoulder, his voice now back to its usual no-nonsense tone. “We don’t have much time.”
The door slid shut behind him, leaving you standing there in stunned silence, the weight of his words still sinking in. Your heart was thudding in your chest, your mind racing. Did he mean that? Or was it just a passing comment?
You stared at the door, trying to gather your thoughts, but the confusion mixed with something else—something hotter that made your skin flush as you realized just how close you were to him. How dangerously close.
Shaking your head, you turned to the small corner of the room where your clothes had been discarded. You couldn’t focus on that right now. You had a job to do. You had to keep your head straight, get into the right mindset, and be ready for whatever came next.
But still, his words kept ringing in your ears, and the heat in your chest refused to go away.
You quickly changed into your clothes, trying to push aside the lingering tension. You didn’t have time for this. The mission was more important.
At least, that’s what you told yourself.
You finished dressing and took a steadying breath, ready to move on and do what Mando had asked. But as you stepped toward the door, ready to follow through on the task ahead, the thought of his voice and his words wouldn’t leave you.
And that was the problem. You watched as Mando left with the group, jittery with both nerves and the heat of Mando’s words. And so you waited.
-
Two hours. It had been two hours since Mando had told you to wait on the ship. Two hours of pacing, of turning over every possible scenario in your mind, trying to figure out what the hell was going on, and why Mando still hadn’t returned. You couldn’t sit still anymore. You had to move.
The comm came through suddenly, breaking the silence and jolting you from your thoughts.
“Listen to me,” Mando’s voice crackled through the comms, calm but laced with a tension that sent a chill down your spine. “It’s a setup. They trapped me somewhere. I need you to stay put and stay on the ship. I’m going to get out.”
Your heart stopped in your chest. A trap? You didn’t care about anything other than finding him, making sure he was safe.
“No. Mando, I’m coming for you. I can’t just sit here,” you practically shouted at the comm, the panic starting to rise in your throat.
“Calm down,” he said, his voice a little firmer now. “Stay on the ship. You’re no good to me if you get caught out there too. I’ll handle it. Just wait, and I’ll be out before you know it.”
You ground your teeth, frustration boiling inside you. Every instinct in your body screamed at you to do something, anything, to go and find him. But he was right. He was capable of handling himself, and if you went out there now, you might only make things worse.
Reluctantly, you agreed. “Fine. But you better get out of there fast.”
You kept pacing, watching the time tick by, anxiety growing like a fire in your chest. You couldn’t just sit here, helpless. The minutes dragged on, each one worse than the last, and soon enough, your decision was made.
Fuck it. You couldn’t wait anymore.
You slipped off the ship, moving swiftly and silently through the corridors of the massive vessel. You didn’t even know where you were headed, just that you had to find Mando, to make sure he was okay. Your pulse was racing as you crept along, every sound sending a jolt of adrenaline through you.
You dispatched a guard droid with ease, your blade cutting through its systems like butter, but still, the ship felt too quiet. Too empty. The hum of the vessel’s engines was the only sound you could hear now, and even that felt distant, like the ship was alive and yet disconnected from you. Every step you took felt heavier, as though the darkness pressing in around you was suffocating, tightening around your chest. The only thing louder than the silence was the erratic beat of your own heart.
The light flickered, casting long, eerie shadows along the metal walls, and then, with a shudder that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, the lights went out. Just like that. A sudden, suffocating darkness swallowed you whole.
Your breath caught in your throat. You froze, eyes adjusting to the blackness, the low hum of your commlink the only weak point of light in this endless expanse. The cold air seemed to press in on you, the ship’s metallic bones groaning as it shifted. You felt utterly alone in the dark, every step you took seeming to echo in your ears. The stillness was almost worse than the chaos. It had that dead, hollow quality that made your skin crawl, and every single nerve screamed at you to stop, to turn around, to run back to the ship and wait for Mando.
But you couldn’t. Not now. Not when you were this close.
Then, a sound—footsteps—just at the edge of hearing. Too light, too quick, but unmistakable. Someone was out there.
You pressed yourself into the shadows, your pulse rising as your fingers curled tighter around your knife. Your heart hammered in your chest, adrenaline rushing through your veins, but you told yourself to stay calm. Stay sharp.
The footsteps grew louder, closer. Whoever it was, they were moving fast. Too fast.
And then, he appeared. A silhouette in the dark, moving like he knew exactly where you were, his boots echoing against the cold floor. You didn’t have time to think—your body reacted on instinct. You rushed forward, knife raised, ready to strike, but you weren’t fast enough.
He was on you before you could land the blow. His weight crashed into you, knocking the air from your lungs as he shoved you to the ground. The cold, unforgiving floor of the ship met your back with a brutal thud, the impact stealing your breath.
Panic flooded your system, your heart pounding louder than the thud of your fall. Your hands flew to the knife, but he was too strong. His grip tightened around your wrists, forcing your arms above your head. You thrashed beneath him, desperate to break free, but the more you fought, the more he pushed you down, his body pressing on top of yours.
You could feel his breath on your face, heavy and labored, and all you could think about was the knife—his knife—now pressed against your throat. Cold steel kissed your skin, and the weight of it made your throat tighten. You couldn’t get a proper breath. Couldn’t think.
“Stay still,” he growled, the knife digging a little deeper. “Don’t make this harder on yourself.”
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. You weren’t going to give him that. Not when you still had a chance to fight. You twisted beneath him, trying to free your legs, but they were trapped under his body. You were pinned.
No escape.
You felt the panic rising in your chest like a tidal wave, clawing at your throat, making it hard to breathe. The edge of the knife pressed against your skin, just waiting for the wrong move.
And then—your mind snapped to him.
Mando.
The thought came out of nowhere, like an instinct, something that was just so ingrained in you that it was impossible to ignore. You thought about him. About the way he always seemed to have your back, the way he had your trust. Your thoughts flickered to the kid—his smile, his laugh. You’d never see him again. You’d never get to tell Mando how you felt, never get the chance to be with him.
This was it. You were going to die here, on this ship, in the dark, with a blade at your throat. And you hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell Mando that you cared.
A broken, almost hysterical laugh bubbled up from your chest. It felt so unfair. The kid would grow up without you. Mando would never know how much he meant to you. Your thoughts were racing, spiraling out of control as you tried to grasp at something—anything—that could stop this, but the dark reality settled in. You weren’t going to make it out of here. It was all slipping through your fingers like sand.
But then, a crash.
The figure above you was wrenched off in a single, fluid motion. You didn’t even register it at first—just the sudden, sharp shift in pressure, the weight lifted from your chest. A loud grunt followed, and then the man was gone, hurled into the darkness with a sickening thud.
Your chest heaved, breaths coming in short, panicked gasps as you scrambled to push yourself up. And then, in the shadows of the darkened hallway, you saw him.
Mando.
You blinked, unable to fully comprehend that he was here, right here, right now. He stood over the mercenary like a storm, a force of nature, his armor gleaming in the dim light. Without hesitation, he was on the man, his gloved hands wrapping around the mercenary’s neck and slamming him against the wall with a sound that made your stomach turn.
The mercenary’s knife was knocked out of his hand, clattering against the floor as Mando finished him off in a swift, brutal movement. The man’s body crumpled to the ground, a heavy silence falling over the ship.
You stared at Mando, still on the floor, trying to piece together what just happened. You were alive. He was here. You were okay. But the overwhelming relief didn’t hit you at first, not until he turned toward you, helmet angled just enough that you could almost feel the weight of his gaze on you.
“Come here,” he said, his voice low and steady as he extended a hand to you. His tone was all business, but there was something softer there, beneath the surface—something that made the hairs on your arms stand up.
You took his hand, feeling the strength in his grip as he helped you to your feet. There was a brief, lingering moment where neither of you spoke, just standing there, close enough that you could feel his heat radiating from his armor. His presence was commanding, undeniable. And you… you couldn’t breathe properly, not with the way your heart was hammering in your chest.
But you didn’t have time for that. Not now.
“You okay?” Mando asked, his voice a little softer now.
You nodded, though your voice caught in your throat. “I—I thought I was going to die.”
Mando’s gloved hands were gentle as he cupped your face, his touch oddly tender amidst the chaos that had just unfolded. His helmet loomed close, his posture rigid, but his movements were careful, his fingers lightly brushing over your skin, checking for cuts, bruises, any sign of injury. The intensity of his inspection was palpable, as though he needed to reassure himself that you were truly unharmed.
The tension that had been building between you both crackled in the silence, but that tension quickly turned into something else, something sharper. His posture stiffened, and when he finally pulled his hands away from your face, you noticed how his shoulders tightened under the weight of his frustration.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice thick with irritation. “I told you to stay on the ship.”
The words stung more than they should have, but you weren’t ready to back down. Not this time. Not when he was being so infuriatingly overprotective.
“I couldn’t sit there while you were trapped,” you snapped, your chest heaving with the remnants of adrenaline and anger. “You think I’m just supposed to wait around? While you’re stuck somewhere? I’m not that kind of person, Mando.”
Mando’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I don’t care. I need you to stay out of danger. You’re not invincible. I can’t lose you like that.”
The words hit like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you were left standing there, breathless. But the sting of his words only fueled the fire in you, and you found yourself stepping closer, your own frustration bubbling over.
“I don’t care if you’re worried about me,” you fired back, voice tight, “I couldn’t just stay on the sidelines, especially when you’re in danger. I’ve seen what happens when you get caught in the thick of it.” You shook your head, turning away from him for a moment. “I couldn’t let you go through that alone.”
Mando’s jaw clenched, and there was a long pause between you both as you exchanged heated glances. The anger swirled between you like a storm, both of you stubborn, both of you unwilling to relent. The silence hung in the air, thick and heavy with everything that had been left unsaid.
After a moment, Mando exhaled slowly, turning toward the ship’s exit. You followed him, neither of you saying another word. The ship lurched into the air, the engine roaring to life as you made your way back to the safety of the ship, the weight of the argument hanging like a dark cloud between you.
Once you were in the cockpit, Mando set course for the stars, his hands tight on the controls, his posture as stiff as ever. You both sat in silence as the ship cut through the atmosphere, the stars on the other side of the viewport a reminder of the vast distance between you and the danger you’d just escaped.
But as you cleared the atmosphere, as the silence between you both grew unbearable, the argument reignited.
“Why couldn’t you just listen to me?” Mando’s voice was quiet, but the frustration was still there, simmering beneath the surface. He didn’t look at you as he spoke, his focus on the controls.
The cockpit felt suffocating, the tension thick enough to choke on. Mando stood before you, his broad frame rigid, his helmet tilted slightly as though he couldn’t believe you were actually arguing with him after everything that had just happened. The way his body was so still only made your frustration mount, a stark contrast to the way you were practically vibrating with anger.
“Because I’m not a damn prisoner on this ship,” you snapped, each word cutting through the charged silence like a vibroblade. “I have a stake in this. I’m not going to sit around waiting for you to come back. I’m not just here to sit pretty and keep the ship in one piece while you risk your life. I’m not gonna be left behind.”
His head tilted slightly, the shine of the black visor catching the dim cockpit light. When he finally spoke, his voice was measured but laced with a dangerous edge, like a storm barely contained. “You think I asked for this?”
Your jaw tightened, but he didn’t stop.
“You think I wanted to come back to find you fighting for your life? That I wanted to worry about whether or not I’d lose you today because you couldn’t follow simple instructions?”
The words hit you hard, your chest tightening with a mixture of anger and something you weren’t ready to name. His voice was colder than you’d heard it in weeks, and the accusation in his tone stung more than you cared to admit.
“Maybe if you told me what was going on,” you countered, your voice rising, “I wouldn’t have had to! You treat me like I’m supposed to just sit here and wait while you throw yourself into danger. I’m not your—”
“You’re not my what?” he demanded, stepping forward, his voice cutting through yours like a whip. “Not my responsibility? Because that’s exactly what you are when you pull a stunt like that.”
The word responsibility landed with the force of a blow, and your vision blurred for a moment with the heat of your fury. You didn’t know if you were angrier at his words or at the fact that they hurt so damn much.
“Fuck you,” you hissed, the venom in your voice surprising even yourself. Without waiting for a response, you spun on your heel and stormed out of the cockpit, your boots pounding against the cold durasteel floor.
“Hey!” he barked, his voice sharp and commanding. You didn’t stop.
You barely made it halfway down the corridor before you heard the heavy thud of his boots following you. His strides were longer, faster, and before you could fully register it, his voice was back at your side, low and demanding. “Don’t walk away from me.”
“I’m done talking to you,” you threw over your shoulder, your pace quickening.
“Well, I’m not done with you,” he growled, his voice closer now.
You came to an abrupt stop, spinning to face him so fast that he had to pull back slightly to avoid colliding with you. Your chest heaved as you jabbed a finger toward him, your anger boiling over. “Oh, of course not. Because it’s never about what I want, is it? It’s always about your rules, your plans, what you think is best. But guess what? You don’t get to make that call for me.”
His head tilted slightly, his shoulders rising as though he were bracing himself. “You don’t get it,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.
“No,” you snapped, cutting him off before he could continue. “You don’t get it. I have a right to be here, to fight, to know what the hell is going on. You don’t own me.”
Something in the air shifted. His body stiffened, and for a moment, you thought he might back down. But then he took a step forward, closing the distance between you. Instinctively, you took a step back.
“Careful,” you warned, your voice trembling slightly. Your heart pounded in your chest, your anger simmering just beneath the surface.
He didn’t stop. Another step. Then another. Each one deliberate, controlled. Every inch he took forward, you took back until the wall met your spine, cold and unyielding.
Your breath hitched as he stopped inches from you, his broad frame towering over you. One of his arms came up, his hand bracing against the wall beside your head. The movement was slow, almost deliberate, and the intensity of his presence made your pulse race.
“You want to keep yelling?” he asked, his voice low, rasping. “Go ahead. But answer me this first.”
Your brow furrowed as you glared up at the black visor, your confusion mixing with your frustration. “What?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended.
“Tell me you didn’t like it,” he said, his tone dropping into something darker. Something that sent a shiver racing down your spine.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” you spat, your anger barely masking the flicker of unease his words ignited.
“Earlier,” he clarified, his voice smoother now, almost sultry. “When the ship lurched, and you were pinned under me. You told me to never do it again. So tell me… tell me you didn’t like it.”
Your breath caught in your throat, his words pulling the memory to the surface with startling clarity. The weight of him pressing into you, the heat of his body even through the layers of armor. The way his hands had cradled you with such strength, such care.
Your pulse quickened, and a flush spread across your cheeks. “I…” you started, but the words wouldn’t come. Your mind was spinning, the memory of that moment replaying with vivid detail.
“That’s what I fucking thought,” he said, his voice laced with both triumph and frustration.
You opened your mouth to argue, to push back, but the intensity of his presence silenced you. His free hand moved to your hip, the touch firm but somehow electric.
“Mando,” you whispered, his name falling from your lips before you could stop it.
“Do you have any idea,” he said, his voice rough, raw, “what it would’ve done to me if I’d lost you today? If I hadn’t gotten there in time?”
His hand tightened on your hip, and you sucked in a sharp breath as he leaned in closer, the helmet mere inches from your face. His thigh shifted, parting yours to rest at your core, and the contact sent a jolt of heat through you that you couldn’t ignore.
“I…” you tried again, your voice faltering as the weight of the moment pressed down on you.
“You’re fucking infuriating,” you finally managed to say, your tone sharp, but your body betrayed you as your hips shifted slightly, the friction against his thigh sparking something you couldn’t control.
“And yet,” he said, his voice low and filled with something dark and possessive, “you’re still here.”
The air between you was crackling, electric and volatile, like a storm that had been building for far too long. Mando was impossibly close, his gloved hand gripping your hip with a possessiveness that left you breathless, his helmet tilted toward you in a way that felt predatory. His other hand still braced against the wall beside your head, boxing you in completely.
Your heart pounded in your chest as his voice dropped even lower, gravelly and dark. “You’re still here,” he repeated, his tone carrying an edge of frustration and something else—something deeper, something that made your knees weak.
You opened your mouth to reply, to argue, to yell something—anything—to break the tension, but the words died in your throat as he shifted against you. His thigh pressed up between yours, deliberate and firm, the pressure just right to send a shockwave through your entire body.
“Fuck you,” you breathed, though your body betrayed the words as you shamelessly ground down against him, seeking more of the delicious friction that had your nerves tingling with fire.
His helmet tilted, the black visor never leaving your face as his hands slid up, one spanning your waist while the other lingered at your ribcage, his thumb brushing maddeningly close to the underside of your breast. “Careful,” he murmured, his voice impossibly low and edged with something feral. “You keep saying that like it’s not exactly what you want.”
A sharp pulse of need shot through you, and you let out a sound somewhere between frustration and surrender. His words felt like a challenge, like he was calling you out for the very thing you couldn’t deny.
Your hands fisted the fabric of his flight suit as you leaned forward, your forehead brushing against the smooth surface of his helmet. The action brought you so close that his breaths—filtered through the modulator—felt tangible against your lips.
“Stop playing games,” you snapped, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and desire. “If you’re gonna—”
He cut you off with a sharp movement of his thigh, his hands guiding your hips against him, forcing you to feel the friction, the heat. Your head fell back against the wall, a broken sound slipping past your lips before you could stop it.
“You think this is a game to me?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
You forced yourself to meet his visor, your chest heaving with every breath. “What do you want from me, Mando?”
“I want you to stop acting like you don’t know,” he growled, his hand sliding up your side, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. “Like you don’t feel it.”
You wanted to argue, to fight back, but the words wouldn’t come. Your mind was clouded, your body overwhelmed by the sheer force of him—his presence, his touch, the way he moved against you like he owned you.
“I can’t—” you started, but his thigh shifted again, and the sound you made was anything but coherent.
“You can,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. His helmet tilted down toward you, his voice softening just slightly. “I need you to.”
Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping the beskar as you tried to ground yourself, tried to fight the wave of heat building inside you. But it was impossible. He was everywhere, overwhelming your senses, leaving you no room to think, only feel.
“Do you have any idea what it’s like?” you managed to say, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “Sitting here, wondering if you’re gonna come back? Fuck—”
His hand slid up your side again, his thumb brushing against the bare skin just below the hem of your shirt—his shirt—and you shivered at the contact.
“I’ve wanted—no, needed you for so fucking long,” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. Your voice was raw, filled with frustration and longing. “I–ah–didn’t think you felt the same.”
His grip on you tightened, his body pressing closer, his thigh still firm between yours. “You think I don’t feel the same?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “You think I could’ve lost you today and just kept going like nothing happened?”
His breath was ragged against your ear as he slid his hand further, his thumb tracing the curve of your side. “I’ve always wanted you,” he muttered, the words low and edged with a raw, primal edge that sent a shiver through your entire body. “Fuck, I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you on this ship—every time you walked by me in that tight hall, wearing my clothes like you fucking knew what it did to me. You don’t understand how hard it was to just… watch you, to feel you so close, but never touch. It was wrong—hell, I know it was wrong. I'm basically your fucking employer—but you were there, right there in front of me. Every time I saw you, I couldn’t breathe right, couldn’t think straight, and every part of me just wanted to take you, to pull you into me.” His voice grew tighter, almost as though he was choking on the words as his hands gripped you even tighter, pulling you against him. “But I couldn’t act on it, not until I knew you felt the same. Until I knew you weren’t going to just… disappear.”
Your breath hitched at his words as his hand trailed up, brushing against your ribs, his touch setting your nerves on fire. You wanted to respond, to push him further, but the weight of his words—and the way he looked at you, even through the visor—left you speechless.
“Mando,” you breathed, your voice trembling.
“Din,” he corrected softly, his voice a reverent murmur.
Your heart stuttered at the sound of his name, and you opened your mouth to say it back, but before you could, he leaned in, his helmet brushing against your forehead as his hands slid to your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. “Are you going to do something or what?” you challenged.
He didn’t reply, but his hands moved again, sliding down to cup your ass and grope the pillowy flesh. Then, with a fluid strength that took your breath away, he lifted you.
Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, locking at the ankles as your body molded against his. You gasped at the firm press of his body against yours, your core pressed directly against the undeniable hardness between his legs. Even through the layers of clothing and armor, the sensation was maddening.
Your hands braced against his shoulders, your nails digging into the fabric as the reality of the moment overwhelmed you. “Mando—Din,” you corrected yourself, your voice breaking as your forehead rested against his helmet again. “I need you. Now.”
His hands gripped you tighter, and the way he growled your name was a sound you would never forget. He stepped back from the wall, carrying you effortlessly as if you weighed nothing. The heat of his body was a blazing contrast to the cool metal of the ship, and your breath hitched as he lowered you to the floor with surprising care, even amidst the unrestrained urgency crackling between you.
He hovered over you, his hips slotting between your legs again as his hands roamed your body, claiming every inch of you without hesitation. The hard edges of his armor brushed against your skin, a stark reminder of the man beneath it—unyielding, impenetrable, yet undone for you.
You arched into his touch, your mind clouded with nothing but him, the overwhelming need you felt, and the knowledge that nothing could keep him from you now.
Your hands trembled as they slid down his chest, palming at the cold, unyielding metal of his armor. The sharp edges and smooth plates were a stark contrast to the heat radiating off him, and you bit your lip, frustrated by the barrier between you.
“Din,” you murmured, your voice barely audible, but the urgency in it was unmistakable. Your fingers tugged at the edges of his cuirass, a desperate plea breaking free from your lips. “Please… take it off—I need to feel you.”
He stilled above you, his helmet tilting down as if weighing your words. You knew what you were asking was monumental—he rarely took his armor off, and certainly not in front of anyone. It was a part of him, an extension of the creed he held so tightly. But right now, you needed to feel him. Not the metal, not the layers—him.
His gloved hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin as he seemed to search for something in your expression. Whatever he saw there, it broke down the walls he’d built so carefully around himself.
With a slight nod, he sat back on his knees, his hands moving to the clasps and fastenings of his armor. The air grew heavy with anticipation as he worked, the clinks and clicks of metal being removed echoing in the small space. Piece by piece, the armor came off—shoulder plates, chest plate, gauntlets—until he was left in just the dark flight suit that clung to his body.
Your breath caught as you watched him, the dim light casting shadows across his broad frame. The fabric of the flight suit hugged every inch of him, leaving little to the imagination. He hesitated for a moment, his hands stilling at the zipper of his suit, as though giving you one last chance to stop him.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and rough, yet threaded with a vulnerability that tugged at your heart.
You nodded, your lips parting as your chest rose and fell rapidly. “Please, Din.”
That was all it took. He pulled the zipper down in one swift motion, the sound louder than it should have been, and peeled the suit off his shoulders. The fabric slid down his torso, revealing tan, scarred skin and taut muscles that made your mouth go dry.
You swallowed hard, your gaze drinking him in as more of him was revealed. The ridges of his abs, the curve of his waist, the trail of dark hair that led down to the waistband of his boxers—it was overwhelming. Your eyes dipped lower, and your breath hitched at the sight of his arousal, straining against the fabric of his boxers. He was huge, the outline of him leaving little room for imagination, and the sheer size of him sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between your thighs.
“Maker,” you whispered, unable to tear your gaze away from him. Your skin felt electrified, every nerve alight with anticipation.
Din’s hands slid under your shirt, his calloused fingers skimming over your stomach and ribs with an intimacy that sent a shiver racing up your spine. His touch was light, almost reverent, as though he couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “Your turn,” he murmured, his voice rough with arousal.
You didn’t hesitate, your hands flying to the hem of your shirt. His eyes, hidden behind the black visor of his helmet, seemed to burn into you as you stripped the fabric from your body, leaving your torso bare to him. The cool air of the ship kissed your skin, but the heat in his touch was enough to set you ablaze.
His hands followed, tracing the curve of your waist, the swell of your breasts, until you felt utterly consumed by him. His helmet tilted as though he were memorizing every detail of you, and the air between you crackled with a tension so thick it was almost suffocating.
Din froze as your bare form was revealed to him, his chest rising and falling with heavy, measured breaths. His gloved hands hovered for a moment as if the sight of you had momentarily rendered him incapable of movement. When he finally exhaled, it came out in a deep, guttural groan, one that sent a shiver coursing through your entire body.
“Maker,” he rasped, his voice raw and unguarded, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard it.
His visor tilted, drinking you in as though he could see every curve, every dip and swell of your body beneath the low light of the Crest. To him, you were radiant. The soft, golden glow of the overhead lights cast a halo around you, highlighting the light sheen of sweat glistening on your skin. You looked ethereal, angelic, like something he had no right to touch.
But it wasn’t just the beauty of your body that undid him—it was you. The way your chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, the way your hands trembled slightly, clutching the blanket beneath you for some semblance of stability. You were so alive, so perfect, and you were here with him. For him.
His cock twitched painfully against the confines of his boxers, straining against the fabric as he took in the sight of you. He could feel the heat pooling in his belly, the pulsing need to touch you, to claim you, to lose himself in the one thing he never thought he could have.
“Perfect,” he muttered under his breath, almost to himself, but you heard it. The word sent a flood of warmth straight to your core, your thighs instinctively pressing together to temper the ache building there.
Din noticed, of course. He always noticed. His hand, still clad in its leather glove, trailed down your side, the contrast between the cool leather and the heat of your skin sending sparks along your nerves. He reached the waistband of your panties, hesitating for a brief moment before hooking his fingers under the fabric.
His movements were deliberate, almost agonizingly slow, as though he wanted to savor every second. He peeled the fabric down your legs, his eyes—hidden though they were—never leaving you. The sight of you fully bare beneath him stole the air from his lungs, and he let out another low groan that made your toes curl.
“Din,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need, your thighs shifting restlessly as the heat between them became unbearable.
“Patience,” he said, his voice dark and commanding, yet laced with a tenderness that made your heart race.
His hand returned, now free of the glove, and the warmth of his palm against your inner thigh made you gasp. He traced a slow, teasing path upward, his fingers brushing against your slick heat, and you bit your lip, barely stifling the whimper that escaped you.
“So wet,” he murmured, almost reverently, his thumb circling your clit with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the floor. “Is this all for me?”
“Yes,” you breathed, your voice breaking as his fingers slid through your folds. “All for you.”
His other hand settled on your hip, grounding you as he slid one thick finger inside you, the stretch making your head fall back with a soft moan. He moved slowly at first, his finger curling and pumping in a rhythm that had you writhing beneath him. Then he added another, his thumb never ceasing its gentle assault on your clit, and the pressure built rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter in your core.
“Din, I—”
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice softening as he leaned closer, his forehead just inches from yours. “Let go for me.”
The words, the command in them paired with the tenderness, sent you over the edge. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your body trembling as you cried out his name, clutching desperately at his forearms to anchor yourself. He worked you through it, his fingers never faltering as he coaxed every last bit of pleasure from you.
When you finally came down, your chest heaving as you blinked up at him with dazed eyes, Din didn’t give you time to recover. He was already pushing his boxers down, freeing himself, and the sight of him made your breath hitch. He was massive, thick and long, and your core clenched at the thought of him inside you.
He leaned down, pressing his helmet against your forehead as his hands slid under your thighs, hitching them around his waist. “Tell me,” he rasped, his voice rough with need, “if you want me to stop.”
You shook your head fervently, your hands clutching at his shoulders. “Don’t stop,” you whispered, your voice breathy and desperate. “I need you, Din. Now.”
With a low growl, he removed his cock from his boxers, positioning himself at your entrance, the head of him brushing against your sensitive folds. Then, with one slow, deliberate thrust, he pushed inside, and you cried out at the stretch, the fullness, the overwhelming sensation of him.
The moment Din pushed inside, your body arched off the floor, a strangled cry tearing from your lips as the sensation of him stretching you filled every inch of your being. He was thick, his girth almost overwhelming as your walls clenched around him involuntarily, fluttering at the sheer force of his entry. Your breath hitched, chest rising and falling rapidly as you fought to adjust to the exquisite stretch.
“Stars,” you gasped, nails digging into the taut muscles of his shoulders. “Din, I—”
He stilled immediately, his hands gripping your hips firmly, holding you steady even as his own body trembled with restraint. His voice, low and strained through the modulator, was like gravel. “I know, baby. I know. Just breathe.”
You could feel his cock twitching inside you, a constant reminder of his size and the way your walls struggled to accommodate him. The burn ebbed slowly, replaced by a pulsating ache that was both pleasure and pain, your body contracting around him as it learned to accept him. The Crest’s dim lights glinted off the sheen of sweat on your skin, making you glow beneath him, and Din’s breath hitched audibly at the sight.
His thumb stroked soft, reassuring circles against your hip, his own restraint evident in the way his chest rose and fell with thudding breaths. “Kriff, you feel…” he started, his words trailing off as if they couldn’t capture the magnitude of the moment.
Finally, the pressure shifted, the ache transforming into a hum of pleasure that sent vibrations through your core. You gave a small, experimental roll of your hips, testing, and the motion pulled a groan from his lips as your walls sucked him deeper.
“I—I think I’m ready,” you whispered, your voice breathy and tinged with urgency.
Din hesitated, his forehead pressing to yours. “Are you sure?” His voice was rough, every syllable trembling with the weight of his self-control.
“Fuck, Din,” you moaned, your hips grinding against him instinctively. “Move. I need you to move.”
His restraint snapped like a tether pulled too tight. He pulled out slowly, your walls clenching and fluttering in protest, only to slam back into you with a force that left you gasping. Your body trembled beneath him, your nails raking down his back as he set a slow, deliberate pace, each thrust deep and intentional, filling you completely.
The sensation was overwhelming. Every drive of his hips sent shudders rippling through you, his cock dragging against every nerve, your walls pulsating around him with every movement. The friction was maddening, a delicious agony that built steadily, and you could feel every twitch, every throb of him inside you as he claimed you.
“Din,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as his name fell from your lips like a prayer.
He groaned in response, the sound guttural and raw as his hands gripped your thighs tighter, holding you in place for his relentless thrusts. “You’re so tight,” he rasped, his modulated voice vibrating against your skin. “So fucking perfect.”
Your body was a live wire beneath him, every nerve ending alight as the coil in your core tightened, your hips grinding up to meet his with desperation. Each thrust grew rougher, more urgent, his pace driving faster as your walls quivered and sucked him deeper.
“I—I’m close,” you stuttered, your voice trembling as the fire in your belly burned hotter.
“I’ve got you,” Din murmured, one hand sliding between your bodies to find the swollen bundle of nerves at your center. His fingers pressed against you, the pressure sending a jolt of electricity through your body. “Let go. Come for me.”
The combination of his thrusts, his touch, and the overwhelming fullness of him buried deep pushed you over the edge. Your release hit like a supernova, your walls contracting and fluttering around him as waves of pleasure pulsed through you, leaving you breathless and trembling.
“Din!” you cried out, your body arching against him as the pleasure ripped through every inch of you.
The way you clenched around him, your walls milking him as you came, was his undoing. His thrusts grew erratic, each one deeper and harder as he chased his own release. With a guttural growl, his body tensed, his cock twitching as he spilled inside you, the force of his climax sending shivers through his frame.
After the intensity of the moment passed, a deep silence enveloped the two of you, punctuated only by the sound of your heavy breathing. The ship’s low hum seemed distant compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest, still racing from the whirlwind of sensations. Din slowly pulled out, his movements gentle, almost reverent, as he settled back beside you on the cold floor of the cockpit.
The aftermath was strange. Your body still hummed with the memory of his touch, the lingering warmth of his skin, but now, there was a profound sense of exhaustion, of weightlessness, almost like you’d been floating outside of yourself. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him—his form still looming over you, imposing and powerful, even with the helmet still in place.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. Din’s hand reached for you, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face with a tenderness that caught you off guard. His fingers lingered on your cheek, as if he was making sure you were real, that this wasn’t some fevered dream.
He exhaled sharply, almost like he was trying to shake off the weight of what had just happened. You watched him, unsure of what to say, feeling the quiet aftermath settle around you.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me you felt the same?” you asked, your voice quieter now, but still filled with that same raw frustration. You weren’t angry, not really—you just needed to understand. The silence in the cockpit was deafening, and all you could think about was how much this moment had changed everything between you.
Din didn’t answer immediately. His gloved hands flexed as he reached for the remaining pieces of his armor, moving methodically, almost as though he was trying to mask the emotion you knew he was feeling too. But then he stopped, his back still to you, and you could see his shoulders tense.
He turned slowly, his helmet facing you, but his posture was less rigid than usual. It was almost like he didn’t know how to stand anymore. He let out a breath, long and low, and then finally, in a voice that was quieter, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard it, he spoke.
“I was scared,” he admitted, the words coming out rough, as though they were hard to say. “Scared that you wouldn’t feel the same. That if I told you, you’d leave… that you’d leave me and the kid.”
Your heart tightened in your chest as his words sank in. You could feel the weight of his vulnerability, the fear that had kept him silent all this time. You wanted to reach for him, to tell him how foolish he was for ever doubting you, but you let him continue.
“I’ve been willing to suffer through it,” he went on, his voice catching just slightly, “if it meant you’d stay. I never wanted to put that burden on you. I never wanted you to feel like you had to choose between me and… well, everything else. But when you went after me earlier…” His voice faltered for a moment, and for the first time since you’d known him, he seemed unsure. “I thought I was going to lose you. And I couldn’t… I couldn’t let that happen.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and fragile. You swallowed hard, feeling a rush of emotion you hadn’t expected. All this time, he’d been hiding his feelings because he thought you might leave.
You reached out, your hand trembling slightly as you placed it on his arm. His gaze softened under the helmet, his body still tense, but there was something in his stance that made you believe he was finally, truly being open with you.
“I’m not going anywhere, Din,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly with the sincerity of your words. “I thought… I thought you knew that.”
Din’s breath caught in his chest, and for a moment, he stood there, completely still, before his gloved hand reached out, gently cupping your face. His touch was warm through the cool material of his armor, and his thumb brushed over your cheek in a motion that felt almost reverent.
“I don’t want to be alone in this anymore,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t keep pretending like I don’t need you. I’ve… I’ve never needed anyone before. But I need you, both of you.”
You were speechless for a moment, overwhelmed by the sudden flood of emotions—everything that had been unspoken between you finally coming to the surface. You could see it in the way his posture softened, the way his gloved hand held your face with such care, like you were something precious to him.
You reached up, gently touching the edge of his helmet, as if trying to bridge the distance between the two of you, the one that had been there for so long. “You’re not going to lose us, Din,” you said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
A small, almost imperceptible sigh escaped him, like he was finally letting go of some of the weight that had been pressing down on him for so long. His hand moved from your cheek to the back of your head, pulling you closer. His helmet leaned down just slightly, as if he was breathing you in, the closeness between you palpable.
Then, his voice, softer this time, held a hint of the emotion that had been building for so long.
“I’m sorry for not saying it sooner,” he murmured. “For not telling you how much you mean to me. But now, I’m telling you. I need you here. With me.”
Your chest fluttered at the admission, and you smiled softly, feeling lighter somehow, as if the weight of everything that had been unsaid between you was finally being lifted.
“I need you too,” you said, your voice almost shy now, but filled with certainty.
And with that, the last of the tension between you melted away. He pulled you into him, his arms wrapping around you as you nestled against his chest. For a moment, it was just the two of you, holding each other in the quiet, dim light of the Crest, the sound of your heartbeats the only thing you could hear.
Din’s voice rumbled softly in your ear. “Next time, don’t go running off without me, alright?”
You laughed softly, your fingers tracing small patterns across his chest. “You’re not the only one who gets to be stubborn, you know.”
He chuckled, and for a brief moment, everything felt right—like this was how it was always supposed to be.
“I guess we’re both stubborn then,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with that same tenderness. “Guess I’ll just have to keep you around, huh?”
You smiled, leaning back to look up at him, the warmth of his embrace making you feel more at peace than you had in a long time. “You better,” you teased softly, your fingers still tangled in the fabric of his flight suit. “I wouldn’t want to leave you and the kid to fend for yourselves.”
A soft laugh bubbled from his chest, and as he looked down at you, you could see the beginnings of something new between you—a bond that wasn’t just about survival or shared missions anymore. It was deeper than that. You didn’t know what the future held, but right now, you knew one thing for sure: you were in this together.
Summary: When the generator goes out on the Razor Crest, you and the Mandalorian find yourself spending the night in the cockpit, desperate for warmth
Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x AFAB!Reader
Word Count: 4,860
Warnings: Minors please do not interact, 18+ content below | Pre-Grogu era, vulgar language, hand job, oral (male receiving), inexperienced Mando, angst
Authors: Barnes and Howlett
Author Notes: Hey guys, this is the last installment of our Valentine's day marathon. We really enjoyed expanding our masterlist and gaining new friends/followers through our writing. As always it's a pleasure writing for you ;) ~ Barnes 🚬🗿
A little over a few weeks ago the heater in my house broke! I was literally freezing in the sub zero temps. So obviously, I imagined this fic up to comfort myself. Barnes loved the idea and now here we are. (I'm delusional.) Thank you to everyone that stuck around this week, and for all the traction on the blog as of late. We really appreciate it!! Cheers everyone and Happy Valentine's Day :3 ~ Howlett 🌙
The frigid maw of Carlac was unforgiving this mission. The Razor Crest had taken quite the beating, you had no power for the last six hours. The astro-mech socket had a hole through it the size of an Ewok. Causing the cabin to hold a chill that made your joints ache.
“Dammit, power still won't turn on.” He hits his fist on one of the metal panels of the ship. “Stole an old generator, I have it stowed somewhere, but It’ll only give us enough energy to get the bay doors open and closed.” He shakes his head, sighing.
Defeated, he moves away. Pacing around, he attempts to formulate a plan. You watch as you try to bring any sort of warmth to your quivering body. Rubbing your hands together, you notice how dull they appeared. If you both didn’t get heat soon, you would end up with frostbite, or worse.
“Mando! I am freezing, I feel like my fingers are going to fall off!” You whine, readjusting the skimpy blanket around your shoulders.
“I’m working on it!” He shoots back, annoyed with the ship for failing and you for just sitting there, not helping. “Maybe if you got your sorry ass up, we could get this generator up again.”
He goes to the weapon store, trying to pry open the door. “Stand back.” He commands.
You oblige and sink further into the corner of the room. Fed up with life or death situations, he uses his last wrist rocket to damage the closing mechanism of the door. It sends sparks flying, you shield your face with the blanket and wince at the sudden brightness.
Mando rumages through a bottom storage cabinet and pulls out a half falling apart generator with frayed wires sticking up from it.
“Dammit!” He curses. “Bilge rats.” Mando lets the metal husk fall to the floor with a frustrated grunt.
“Maybe we can salvage it?” You say shuffling across the floor.
You bend and pick it up, examining the damage. The wires were definitely in need of mending, but otherwise all other components seemed to be connected fine, just falling out of the housing. You grab a tool bag from the same cabinet and begin snipping and stripping the wires as Mando watches you with a curious tilt about his helmet. He knew you were a technical person, being able to help him with just about any handiwork needed to be done on the ship. But, he was surprised you could make any sense of the machinery in front of you. Feeling a sense of hope, he kneels near you, examining the work.
“Any luck?”
You splice the last few wires together, and let out a victorious cheer. “That should do it.”
You stand up, dusting yourself off, getting some sort of feeling back in your fingers.
“We should be able to use this for a few minutes, what do you need the most right now?” You ask, thinking of how to make the most of your time.
Mando ponders, as he starts to make a mental list of the possible supplies you both need at this moment. An idea pops into his head.
“Why don’t we grab any cargo we need and station ourselves in the cockpit. It is the most insulated room and we could produce enough heat so your fingers don't fall off.” He mocks you.
Scoffing, you cross your arms over your chest. “You’re telling me you aren’t cold?”
“I’m cold, but I’m not being a baby about it.” He stands with a grunt.
“I’m not a-” You begin to argue.
Ignoring you, he takes the generator to the outside of the ship and connects it to the power supply.
“Get ready!” He shouts, his voice ringing through the nearing frigid levels of cold in the cargo space.
You're already climbing the ladder to the upper storage room when the ship hisses and pops to life. The door opens for you and you begin to frantically toss emergency supplies and bedding items in the direction of the cockpit. Making sure to grab rations, Maker forbid you're trapped for days.
Down stairs Mando collects other items he deemed necessary for survival. He restocks his weapons and begins to bring everything he collected up the ladder to the cock pit. You join him in packing everything you need. Quickly he makes his way back outside. You wedge the doors open just slightly, leaving room for you or Mando to slip out if needed. Mando kills the power outside and brings the generator back in.
“There’s still some juice in this. We can get more when the weather lets up.” He expresses, putting it down with a thunk outside the cockpit doors.
Looking over the inventory the two of you compiled, you began to organize the area. Mando eventually slipped himself inside the cockpit, he helped sort out the space. Once you had everything in a tidy order, on the floor you set up a makeshift bed. Using a rolling pad, a small blanket, and a few dingy pillows, it was comfortable enough for you to sleep in. You settle into the bed, realizing this was going to be a long night. If your back wasn’t hurting now, it was definitely not going to feel any good in the morning.
“Feeling any better?” Mando asks, throwing you off guard.
He wasn’t one to check up on you regularly, but it was always a pleasant surprise when he did.
“A little. This bed sucks.” You joke, trying to make light of your current sleeping situation. “Where are you going to sleep?” Asking, you survey the room, realizing you took the last of the sleeping supplies.
“Right here.” He replied, sitting in the captain's seat.
The doors are open slightly, a swift breeze blowing in from the sizable bend in the connecting door as well as the hole torn into the socket above. The wind whistled and roared outside. It sounded like a wounded beast. It gave you goosebumps as if you weren't already afflicted by chills. Carlac was well below freezing at night, once the sun goes away it's ridiculously cold and because of that gap in the door it made conditions less than ideal and certainly far from toasty.
Feeling the draft as well, Mando swipes a few pillows from you and stuffs them in the door. It only fills in a little more than half of the gap. He makes a Give me motion with his hand and points at the backpack of rations. You toss him the bag and he stuffs that in as well, filling it nearly completely.
“That's as good as it's gonna get.” Mando nods, before resuming his seated position.
You shiver under the blanket. It felt as if heat just wouldn't stay in your body. You tried to get under the blanket fully and use your breath to warm up the space to no avail. When you stuck your face back out the covers you winced at the cold bite that hit your skin. A particularly strong gust of wind spilling slightly into the cab. Mando unmoving in the chair shudders involuntarily. You can see your breath in front of you when you speak.
“Mando. I can’t keep warm.” Your voice was muffled by the blanket but the sound of your teeth chattering was unmistakable.
“Well what do you want me to do about it?” He asks, almost a little too harsh.
You thought about it for a second, what could he do? It’s not like he could magically turn on the power again. All you really wanted was any bit of heat, was that so much to ask for? Battling with yourself for a second, you thought about asking him to accompany you. Normally you would never dare to request such a thing, but this was not any normal circumstance.
“Mando?” You ask softly, he turns his head towards you, humming in response. “Can you maybe just lay next to me?”
He wasn’t sure if he heard you right, he stilled in his seat. “Come again?”
“Um- I’m just really cold and maybe we could get some warmth if we huddle together.” Biting your lip, you almost regret the words you said.
Taking a moment, he gets up from his chair. “Move over.”
He demands, and you quickly do so. Settling himself next to you, he lays flat on his back, hands resting on his chest. You attempt to get close, while not trying to make him uncomfortable.
“Are you going to share that blanket?” He asks with a monotone voice.
You drape it over his chest plate. It gave off a cooling aura that made your hand retreat quickly. You begin to notice the cooling effect is radiating from him on all sides.
“Mando.” You hiss. “Your armor is so cold.” You shove your body closer into the corner. You can feel whatever heat you had left in your body leeching out and into the Beskar. At this point your body starts to uncontrollably shake, your stomach convulsing and cramping with every destroying shiver.
He practically rolls across the floor away from you, taking the blanket with him, frosted to his chest plate. He tears it away and puts it back over you. Night had fallen unforgivingly, the room in pitch black. Tears begin to form in your eyes, you thought they might freeze in these conditions.
“Help, please.” You manage through gritted teeth, frantically rubbing your extremities together.
There was a long pause in the room. “Close your eyes.”
In the event that there was some sort of light leaking into the room he still took precautions. You screw your eyes shut and huddle into a ball. The sound of his helmet being put on the floor was what you heard first before the sound of the rest of his armor falling.
His body slides in next to you. Instinctively you cling to him, curling into his chest. His skin erupts in goosebumps at the sudden temperature change. Leaving no gap between the two of you, finally, you feel a sense of warmth. As you shivered, he still laid flat. You make note of this and inquire with him about it.
“Are you comfortable?” You question through chattered teeth.
“A little.” Responding, he shifts slightly, trying to remove himself from you.
The sudden coldness he felt from you was a bit much. He didn’t want to give the wrong impression but you felt just like a block of ice. Hearing him speak, you notice how different his voice sounded without the helmet. It was pleasant, deeper than what you're familiar with.
“What can I do to make it better?” You ask softly.
“It would be better if you warmed up.” He admits, letting out a heavy sigh.
Annoyed you scoff. “I’m not getting any toastier with you laying like that. Here, I’ll just-” You turn your body to face away from him.
He hesitated for a second, his muscles taught. With a shaky breath he presses the front of his body against you. Wincing at the cold on his back, feeling the chill in the room.
“Is this okay?” He asks, warm breath fanning over your cheek. His hands stall at your side, carefully draping over you. Immediate relief. The heat radiating from his core. His skin was hot, the armor must've kept him insulated because he felt like firelight.
“This is perfect.” You reply, with him shielding you from the door.
“Good.” He hums.
You can tell something is still not quite right. His touch felt distant, unsure. It was hard to tell what the source of this discomfort was. Maybe it was just the cold getting to him. You try to not let it bother you as you attempt to catch some shut-eye.
Feeling you against him, he was intimidated. He had never been this exposed around someone. Since he took the oath of the Mandalorian way, he never removed his armor. Yet here he was, suit off, you cuddled next to him, preparing for sleep. It was terrifying, he was usually most comfortable with his Beskar on. Sleeping in the most unlikely spaces and positions, always prepared if someone would jump at him. Somehow, you of all people got him to be the most vulnerable he has ever been.
It was unclear exactly what he was feeling right now. It was a mix of turmoil from the sudden exposure, but he also felt a tinge of tranquility. Sure it was colder than absolute zero, but knowing he brought you some sort of comfort was all he needed to feel okay in this moment.
You slept for maybe twenty minutes before you awoke to a poking sensation on your back. It was an object large enough for you to notice. You thought maybe Mando had been tinkering with his wrist guard and let it fall between the two of you.
In a sleepy daze you inquire. “Mando?”
He grunts in response, before you feel his entire body grow rigid. So still you would've thought he spotted an enemy combatant.
Now alert, at his sudden frozen demeanor you shoot your eyes open and look around towards the window frantically, back still facing him. “What?! What is it?!”
“I- this doesnt- I didnt mean to- Maker.” He groans, running his hand down his face.
“Wha-” The realization washes over you and you feel your stomach flutter. “Oh-”
Laying back down, your first thought is to pull away. But you cannot, the cold would send you back into a frigid state, threatening your life. So you stilled yourself, trying not to move even a sliver.
“Um- I’m really sorry, I would give you some space but I finally feel warm.”
He doesn’t say or do anything, not sure of what his next move should be. You try to comfort him as an attempt to fill the silence.
“Listen, it’s completely normal… I know sometimes this happens when people who have a penis fall asleep… it’s really nothing to be ashamed of!”
He could feel all the color wash from his face, he had never been so embarrassed. Despite being known to be quick witted and an expert of thinking on his feet, for the first time, he had no idea where to go from here.
“If you want, you can like, go and take care of that.” Thinking, you really didn’t want him to leave, he was your personal heater. “Just try to hurry if you do.”
He lets out an uncomfortable grunt and sighs, still not daring to speak out of mortification. You were no stranger to the male appendage. Had a taste of many across the galaxy, in fact. Never once did you think you would find yourself in such a predicament with a Mandalorian of all people. He had been short and rather verbally unkind throughout your voyage, opting to treat you as a part of the ship rather than a traveling companion. You might even die here, cold and uncared for.
“Or…” you pose an option. “I could help you out?”
He lets out a weak and strangled groan at your question.
“I don’t, I don’t do that.” He answers gruffly.
Maybe it was the fact that you were finally warm and feeling better, or the fact that you were faced with mortality but it sent a surge of confidence through your body.
“Do, what? Never been with a woman before Mando?” You tease. “A bachelor out in the galaxy and never sampled any of the goods? That's a real shame.” You coo.
“Excuse me?” He takes major offense. “What makes you think I haven’t sampled any goods?” He retorts, mocking you.
“Prove it then.” You snap back.
Sighing, he tries to defend himself. “We are colleagues. I hired you specifically to maintain this ship and accompany me with my bounties. The only reason I’m even in this position is because you’re the one who can fix the generator. If you freeze to death I’ll be stranded here!”
Ouch, you thought. He could not have said that any more bluntly.
“Is that really all my life means to you? A suppliment on your ship that doesn't even fucking work?” Starting to move away, you can feel his hand grip your wrist.
“Wait, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to-”
You pull his hand away, sitting straight up. “Please don’t with the apology.”
Sighing, you can feel the harsh winds blow in from the door. You really did not want to leave, but Mando was always one to make things harder than they have to be.
“I really am sorry.” He states, shifting himself.
Softly, he continues. “Did you really want to help me?”
“Are you serious? After that?” You scoff.
He stays silent for a moment. You move closer to the door, losing vital warmth by the second. The wind had thankfully let up, unfortunately leaving the room so silent you could hear how his mouth hesitated to form words.
He lets out a heavy sigh before his voice breaks the silence. “Please, at least just sit under the blanket. I need you to hear me out.”
You oblige begrudgingly, realizing it would be stupid to lose your life to the cold over this argument, and there was a chance the most emotionally constipated man you'd ever met was about to be vulnerable.
“Your life means more to me than just a component of my ship.” He admits a slight falter in his voice.
“But you-”
“Let me speak.” His tone was firm but not laced with his usual frustration.
You stay silent, back propped up against a control panel. He joins you shoulder to shoulder and drapes the blanket around the two of you.
“I'm not used to having someone here. Sharing the ship with me. Filling in spaces I couldn't.” He clears his throat. “This ship would have a damn hard time running without you, not just because you fix things either.”
You sat with your eyes closed, focusing on his voice. Feeling heavy with his introspection. His praises bloom in the pit of your stomach. The skin at your shoulder that met his felt electric.
“And as far as what just happened goes.” His fingers grip the bedroll below. “You know I took an oath. Later in life I vowed to only allow myself sex if it meant furthering the Mandalore bloodline.”
A heavy sigh leaves his lips, it almost pained him to say those words out loud. He takes a moment before he continues. “I didn’t mean all those things I said. Lately, I’ve just been confused.”
“Confused about what?” You ask, bringing a reassuring hand to his shoulder.
“About whether or not these morals work for me.”
Hearing those words, you take a moment to try and process the situation. It was shocking that he for one is sharing his feelings with you, and even more surprising that he’s doubting his own beliefs. He’s always proud of who he is and what he believes in, seeing him like this, it’s disarming.
On the other hand, his voice is captivating. Maker, hearing it without the modulator, it sounded so genuine. For the first time, you could hear the emotions in it. The deep, smooth, rich, sound, sent shivers up your spine.
The uninhibited flow of his breathing is audible, this isn’t something you typically hear, it humanizes him. Realizing he was more than just the Beskar he wore and the unkind words he said. You can feel the gentle flexing of his biceps, every time he speaks he tugs on the mattress below. When your arm gently brushes him, goosebumps erupt across his skin.
He continues. “I shouldn't have raised my voice with you. Shouldn’t have been so mean.”
You can feel him turn towards you in the dark, his eyes boreing holes into you. Not even sure he had eyes or how many eyes, but you could feel his stare. He takes your hand in his, it was big, warm. Gentle.
“I just don't know how to feel.” He explains.
“About your beliefs?” You question.
“About you.” His grip on your hand tightens for a second before dropping it. “It’s so hard to control myself everyday. Five hundred forty seven days, thirteen parsecs. I've saved you from countless combatants, you've saved my skin too many times to count. And it made me so mad that I have these feelings. Thought it would be better to be cold, distant. I’m sorry.” He apologizes.
Your chest feels tight, a flutter deep in your stomach. Suddenly you miss the warmth of his palm. You can't blame him for the feelings he developed. You had wondered what was under that armor the second you met him. There were nights, after particularly nasty battles where he was so strong. You saw how effortlessly he handled business and it would be a lie to say you didn't feel similarly. Which is why it was so jarring how snippy he was with you.
“Mando.” You breath out shakily.
He tensed as if bracing for impact. Bracing for a complete shut down or even a backhand. Instead he was met with a gentle hand resting on his leg. Instantly, he gasps, growing tense under your touch.
“Please, don’t make this harder than this has to be.” He whimpers through gritted teeth.
Softly, you slowly stroke up and down his thigh. “Mando, I know you’re having a tough time with your identity… but I think you should allow yourself some fun.” Whispering into his ear, he groans.
“Y-yes I want to, but I just can’t.” As your hand lay there, you feel the fabric from underneath your palm pull away from you.
“What’s really holding you back? Be honest with me, I won’t judge.”
Sighing, he throws his head back onto the wall behind him. You hear a gentle thud, as he rests his hand on your active one. Stopping you from teasing him.
“I’m just-” Continuing under his breath, he says "inexperienced."
“What happened to sampling the galaxy’s goods?” You tease lightly, you hand itching to continue its movement.
“I lied okay? What happened to no judgement?” He chuckles lowly.
“You don't have to be inexperienced, if you don't want to, of course.” You suggest, your voice a low drone in his ear. Giving him an out although you were ready to dive in head first.
He can feel your breath fanning across his skin. Sending a pang through his chest, his fingers gripping your hand tighter now. He swallows thickly, the growing arousal in his pants hard to ignore.
Profusely he apologizes for the yet again growing predicament in the room. “I want to so badly, but what if-” Through his babbling he never lets your hand go, his grip feeling more desperate than anything. Like he was fighting with himself.
Hesitantly he brings your hand closer to his erection. You can feel where the fabric starts to tent. Gently, he drags your hand up and down his shaft, producing a few groans. To him, this feeling was foreign, different than just him handling his business. It made him nervous, you on the other hand felt enthralled. Noticing the awkward position, he scoops you into his lap giving you a better angle. The strength of this man amazed you.
“Do you think you could continue by yourself?” He asks lowly, almost in a whisper.
“Of course, just let me know if you’re comfortable, okay?”
Removing his hand, he leans back. With the storm letting up and the clouds shifting, the moon peers through the window. While he was left obscured in the dark, he could faintly see you. Steadily, you continue your movements, hearing subtle grunts and staggered breathing from him.
“That’s great, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. Just let me-”
Shifting, he begins to undo his button and zipper, the bottom half of his body just barely lit by the sky. It was a spectacle as he pulled it out. Unleashing it from the reins of his undergarments it looked heavy. It was thick and longer than you had felt through his pants.
You lean in close, trapping heat between you. You can feel the pre-cum dripping down your knuckles. When you let up and he watches the moonlight glint off of the string of saliva descending toward his throbbing cock.
He watches it fall, warm and viscous on the tip. Now slick, your hand pumps effortlessly. Earning a few strained moans as you picked up the pace.
He reaches out for you, his hand just barely grazing your side. “I wanna touch you.” He breathes out. “Please.”
You give him a nod, leaning into his touch. Immediately his hand makes full contact with your side, squeezing it. Running his fingers down and across. You shiver. His fingertips leave goosebumps in their wake and when they cup your breasts you let out a whimper.
He growls in response, sliding his hand up your shirt, his calloused digits warm. The combination of the pleasurable feeling on your skin and just how solid his cock was, was enough for you to want to keep eliciting those noises out of him.
“How does this feel, are you comfortable?”
“F-feels great.” Looking up, he takes note of how stunning you look.
How your hand delicately works around his excited member. The focused look on your face, making sure he felt comfort and pleasure. He loved the way you sat so perfectly on top of him, moonlight reflecting off you. You were an angel in his eyes. The sensation was overwhelming, nothing he had ever experienced before. Shamelessly, he ruts into your hand. Drunk on pleasure, he fucks your fist.
Struggling to speak, he whines. “More. Need more.”
Not letting up your movements, you lean towards him. “What do you need more of?” You tease.
Your head ducked dangerously close to his shaft. His hands find their way to your shoulders, then up to your head. His finger hooking into your jaw, he taps it twice.
He lets out a breathy sigh, voice gruff. “You.”
You smile at him impishly, giving him a few slow hard strokes. Strangling his cock at the base you slide backwards off of his lap, your head landing between his thighs. You hold it, feeling how he throbs with each heartbeat. It twitches and jumps in your grip as you nip at the exposed skin of his hip. You gaze into the shadows, knowing he was somewhere in there. You drag your tongue base to tip. Earning a low rumbling moan from Mando.
“Fuck.” He throws his head back, immediately raising it again to watch how your tongue caresses the veins on his cock.
It had to be physically impossible to be so turned on, so hard he was convinced it added another inch or two. He hissed when your tongue circled the tip. It was so sensitive. You take a second to revel in the feeling of his cock leaking on your tongue before taking him in. Slowly at first you let him really feel the wet warm flesh of your mouth. He lets out a long drawn out fuuuck.
You got about half way when you felt him hit the back of your throat. He grunted in response, his hips bucking, causing you to gag and drool. Moving up and down, with your other hand, you move it to the base of his cock stroking it. Immediately, both his hands grip your hair, pushing him further into your warm mouth. Your other hand firmly cups his heavy jewels through the taught fabric of his pants. They flex at your touch, Mando cries out.
“Kriff! I’m so close!”
Having not been familiar with your actions, it overstimulated him. Working him in so many places, all the new sensations, it was too much. Just as soon as it began, it was practically over. Just like that, ropes of cum spew out of him, the feeling of his warm seed flowing down your throat made your eyes roll back. Removing yourself from him with a pop, you both take a moment to catch your breath.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that so fast…” Bashfully, he begins to fix his pants.
“It’s alright, definitely not the fastest I’ve seen someone cum.” You joke, wiping your hands with a cloth from your nearby supply store.
Laughing, he retorts. “Please don’t lie.”
“Really! I’m not lying! The record was about a minute, with my first boyfriend. That’s why we broke up a week later.”
“That’s harsh.” He comments, feeling embarrassed and wondering if you’d leave him in such a short time.
“Kidding! It was because he cheated on me. Go figure.”
“Who would ever cheat on you?” He speaks, feeling a new sense of confidence. “I can finally admit you’re amazing to your face.” He chuckles. “Even before this. I’ve always admired how you carry yourself. It doesn’t hurt that I think you’re drop dead gorgeous."
“I would one day hope to see if you are just as attractive.” You prod.
Pairing: Din Djarin x f! reader
Word count: 1.1k
Tags: pre s1, f masturbation, angry din, degradation, he’s mean in this one, thigh fucking, fingering, cum play, i love Din's hands, he fucks reader with his gloves on, unprotected sex ish, (wrap it before you tap it), pussyjob, a few pussy slaps, edging
A/N: no so idk Just go with me on this. Kinktober one!! YAY!!! happy depravity month everyone. @carlynkurin thank you for putting up with me and my filth this month love youuuu
Summary: You run out of birth control and Din hasn't been able to fuck you in 5 days. Was taking matters in your own hands the best move? Probably not.
It had been 5 days since you’d run out of your supply of birth control. It wasn’t really your fault; you stock up on the pills so that you’re not scrambling while you’re with Din, but now that’s biting you in the ass, simply because he has a bounty to follow and you don’t have the chance to stop somewhere long enough to find a med bay that will give you enough. And unfortunately for both of you, it was driving you insane. You need him to touch you, to fuck you deep and unforgiving into the uncomfortable cot he had on the razor crest, but he just won’t. Not with the potential of you getting pregnant on the table. He can’t have a kid, not with you. You’re barely in a relationship together, all physicality and no emotions; he won't even take off the helmet when he fucks you, whether he’s pressing your head into the pillows or not. But the lack of touch is driving you absolutely up the wall. You’re rutting against your palm while he’s out, shifting so your heel is pressed into your cunt when you’re in the copilot's seat next to him, staring at the slope of his hips when he leans against a wall. It was driving you to the brink of insanity.
And you suppose insanity was fucking yourself on your fingers while he searches for the bounty on some dusty outer rim planet, leaving you alone on the ship with the expectation that you’re theoretically doing the repairs and cleaning. Honestly, it felt a little bit like you were repairing yourself when one of your hands groped at your tit while the other was making tight and fast circles on your clit. Your mouth was slack against the pillow, writhing and mewling like you don't have control over your body. You can feel heat pooling in the pit of your stomach, the spring coiled inside of you that was about to burst, and it felt so good. Your fingers work faster as you chase that high, ready to tip over the edge at any given second, but a cough makes you freeze.
Din’s helmet was tilted down at you, and you could feel his gaze despite not being able to see it; he’s pissed. Your legs barely shut before he’s dragging you down the cot, legs dangling off the edge. “You're back- I didn't hear you come inside-” You're sputtering. And for what? An excuse? An explanation? Either way, your ass was in trouble.
He doesn't speak, just tosses the pack of pills onto your bare stomach, the crinkle of the plastic loud in the silence of the ship. “Can’t fucking wait for anything.” The aggravation in his voice is noticeable, even through the modulator. “Fucking needy. Living on my ship, eating my food,” he cuts himself off with a half growl when he shoves his pants down, cock hard and already leaking pre cum. “Touching this cunt without me. This is mine.”
The sharp crack of a slap jolts you out of your babbling mind and draws a yelp out of you. Your clit throbs at the sting of his gloved palm landing on your pussy, the leather creasing with every flex of his fingers. “Fuck!” You gasp when he lands another slap against your weeping cunt.
“Fucking needy slut. Touching what doesn't belong to you.” You’d never seen him like this, so pent up, so absolutely done with you; it was obvious that the 5 days had been long and hard for him too. The sting of the slaps only made you wetter, clenching around emptiness pitifully. He’d give in; he had to eventually, right?
Not quite. He drags the head of his cock through your slippery folds, making you go cross-eyed when it catches on your clit. The feeling of his length sliding down to prod at your entrance, only to go back to teasing, had you whining under him. “Din- please just fuck me,” you don't recognize your own voice, the neediness in it was foreign. Your pussy tries to pull him in when his tip drags down again, only to be met with another slap to your clit.
“Shut up. Shut. Up.” he pushes your thighs together, keeping them shut with his hands before sliding his cock between them so it nudges your clit just perfectly. “Is this what you do while I’m out, huh? Try to make yourself feel as good as I do?” He’s using you for his pleasure; it doesn’t matter if you’re getting off, it's like you're a toy for him right now. “Maker, how are even your thighs so fucking tight?”
Your pussy is dripping onto him while he uses you to jerk off, cunt aching to be filled, but he won't give you a moment of reprieve. “Touch me. Din, I’m begging you, please.” He just keeps thrusting, one hand going over your mouth to keep you quiet.
“This is all you get, and you better be fucking thankful.” You can feel his thrusts growing sloppier with every second that passes, his cock beginning to twitch before he cums. His control is starting to waver, and he shoves your thighs apart with his knee, sticking the head of his cock just barely into you and jerking himself off to fill you up. “Tight fucking slut. Needed my cum inside of you, didn't you?” his helmet is tipped back as he lets his cum drip inside of you, pleasure overtaking him. He pulls out when he grows soft, tsk’ing at the sight of his seed dripping out of you and gathers it on his gloved fingers, only to push two of them inside of you, making your eyes roll back in pleasure.
Your legs shake at the sudden feeling of fullness, mouth falling open in pleasure. “Fuck, fuck thank you-” you’re not sure you’re forming words properly anymore, his palm hitting your clit with every slow thrust of his fingers had you seeing stars. “Gonna cum- fuck fuck ‘m cumming.” There’s a spot of drool on the sheets under you with just how dumb he had you on his fingers. When he’s certain he’s drained you for all you have, he pulls out and brings his fingers to your lips, and lets you clean him off. The mix of both of your cum, and the leather of his gloves was like a drug that had you moaning around him.
He pulls away eventually and shoves off his armor, grabbing a pack of water and the packet of pills he’d gotten you. “Open.” he drops a pill onto your tongue and then lets you sip some water to wash it down. “I should come back from hunts early if this is what you’re usually doing.”
You’re still a little out of it, but you could swear there was a hint of humor in his voice. “M’not usually,” you murmur, “just really needed you…” He doesn’t say anything to that, just tucks you under the sheet and lets his hand rest on your hip, and you know that he needed you too.
Din and reader are trapped in a prison cell together, what leads them to have sex. Kinda inspired by 'Prison Sex' by Tool.
warnings: afab!reader, porn with plot, piv, unprotected sex, the helmet stays on, prison, first part of a series. english isn’t my first language! 2.6k words
an: Hi! This is the first part of a series I’m writing. There are no mention of reader being a jedi here, but it will be importent in the future. I hope you enjoy!
You set up, giving up on sleep. You've been trapped in this place, some kind of a prison cell for a while, you're not sure for how long. Four days had passed since you woke up. You weren't sure for how long you've been passed out.
You could barely sleep. The bed was to uncomfortable, the fluorescent lights never went out, only got dimmer once in a while. The food was terrible, slice of old bread with something that smells bad on top of it, that was brought to you once every few hours. It was also vary lonely. The only person you talked with, more like the only person that said something to you was a guard, telling you every so often that tomorrow the boss will decide what to do with you. That tomorrow never came, and you still had no clue who 'The Boss' was.
You got up from the bed and walked to the small sink that was in the corner of the room. You stared at your reflection in the mirror for a few minutes, and walked back towards the bed. A bunk bed. It made you wonder, will they bring another person, prisoner, here?
You laid on the bed, that felt more like a plank of steel then a bed, and got back to the only thing you could do in this small room: wondering how you ended up here.
You were in a port, your ship was being refueled by one of the workers there and you were going to get something. You can't remember what you were supposed to get. It was probably not something important. If it was important you would've remember it. On the way to get that thing someone attacked you and you tried to fight back but they made you pass out. Then you were in this place.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door opening. You thought it was 'The Boss' that the guard always talked about, that he finally decided what he was going to do with you. You set on the bed, and realized that this was probably not the boss. Two guards entered the room, carrying a passed out person.
A Mandalorian.
"Move." One of the guards spat at you.
You got up from the bed, and the put the Mandalorian on it. The guards exited the room without another word.
Great you thought. Now you had to share this tiny room with another person. The lights dimmed, meaning it was night. Probably. You weren't really sure. You climbed to the top bunk, since the bottom one was occupied by the passed out mandalorian. For the first time since you woke up in this place, you fell asleep.
You woke up to the sound of heavy boots. You looked down from the bed and saw that the Mandalorian was up.
"You're up" You stated.
The Mandalorian turned his head toward you. You set up on the bed and rubbed your eyes.
"You hadn't been passed out for vary long. The lights dimmed just after they brought you here. I guess only a few hours passed." You said.
He continued looking at you as you climbed down from the bed.
"Make yourself at home, you're gonna be here for a while." You told him.
"At least im here for a while."
The Mandalorian didn't respond to you. You walked to the sink and washed your face. Then you set on the floor of the cell, you felt the cold of the metal through your pants. The mandalorian set on the bed.
"What is this place?" The Mandalorian asked you after a while.
"Some kind of prison" You answered.
The Mandalorian laid on the bed. You looked at him, he didn't acknowledge you. You set in silence for a while. Then the lights got bright. The brightness made your head heart. The silence continued for a while. Until you broke it.
"Whats your name?" You ask him.
He didn't answer your question. The only thing that could be heard was his steady breathing.
"Look, we're gonna be stuck here together for a while, we might as well get to know each other a bit" you tell.
The breathing continues. Then he answers you.
"Call me Mando" He says.
"Wow how original"You respond.
"Whats your name?" He asks.
You tell him your name, and he repeats it.
"That's a good name" He says.
After a while of silence, mando sits up on the bed and looks at you. You look back at him.
"Have you ever taken that off?" You ask, pointing at his helmet.
"Yes" He says.
"In front of someone, i mean."
"Then no"
And the silence continues.
*two days later*
He's laid down, his hands beneath his head, you sat on the floor, staring at him. Your stares don't go unnoticed.
"Stop staring." He commands.
You don't respond, your eyes stay on him. You don't want to take your eyes of this mysterious man your trapped here with. Partially because you want to find more about him, if he won't tell you anything his actions might speak for him, and partially because you knew it was wrong to want a man you just met, a man you knew nothing about, a man you were stuck in a prison cell with. But you still wanted it.
"Stop staring" He repeats.
You're eyes stay in place, too deep in thought for your mind to register his words. You think about your past, about the thing you were supposed to get in the station, about this faceless man that has been driving you insane for three days. What was the thing you needed to pick up, what was it, what was it, remember, try to remember, was it important?
Your thoughts were interrupted by a boot touching your leg. You look up and see Mando looking down at you.
"You have a staring problem" He says.
"Sorry" You mumble.
You stand up, and take the food that was placed near the door. you give him one plate and sit on the floor to eat. The food is still gross, but you'd rather not starve to death, so you eat it. He lays back on the bed, putting the plate on the floor.
"Do you eat?" You ask him. "I've never seen you eat"
"I eat when you don't look, so you won't see my face" He answers.
You eat and he laid on the bed in compleat silence, he was so quite you almost thought he fell asleep. The sound of his breathing was the only indication he was still alive. Then he broke the quite.
"What did you do to end up here?"
"I don't remember," You respond. "I needed to take something, then someone attacked me. I fought them but they made me pass out somehow."
"What were you trying to get, did you steal?" He questioned you.
"I don't remember." You respond. "What did you do to end up here?"
"Hunted the wrong person" He responds.
Your eyes left your plate and went to him, observing the way his body was laid on the bed, one of his legs was bent while the other wasn't, his arms on his chest plate, his helmet pointed at the ceiling.
"Don't start staring again, [name]" He said.
You hum in response, eyes still on him. He shakes his head, a sound that resembles a chuckle comes from his helmet.
"Whats your name" You ask him.
"Mando"
"That's not your real name"
"That's the name you'll get, [name]"
The way he said your name made your core wet. You squeeze your thighs together, hoping he wouldn't notice. He dose. He smiles under his helmet, a chuckle leaving his lips. Din sits up on the bed, looking at you. Your gaze returns to your plate. You finish eating while he just sits there, looking at you.
"You're staring" You state.
You got up from the cold floor, put the plate back where you took it and washed your hands.
"I know," He said. "You can't really complain about staring, dear."
His voice was flat, almost too flat. Your breath hitched. Dear? you thought he called me dear? Your thoughts were cut but the sound of the Mandalorian standing up, the sound of his metal boots hitting the floor as he walked. You turned around, facing him. He was close so you, it was almost intoxicating. Yet you wanted him closer. You wanted him close enough so you could feel him, smell him, taste him.
He took one more step foreword, so your bodies were almost touching. You looked up into the T shaped visor of his helmet, and you could tell that he was looking at you. His hand reached up to your face, thumb lightly grazing your cheek. Your eyes closed, head leaning into his gloved hand.
"You're so pretty" Din said quietly.
Your eyes opened, your hands gripped his wrist. You took his gloved hand oof your cheek, putting it against your mouth, kissing it.
"You've been driving me insane past these days" You mumbled against his palm.
"May I?" you asked, tugging at his glove.
He nodded, and you took it off. You kissed his hand, and he closed the remaining distance between you. You felt the cold of the chest plate of his armor, yet he felt so warm, so close. His hand left your mouth, trailing down your body. You felt it brush against your chin, your neck, and slowly trailed down lower and lower, until it got to your chest. He left his hand there for a little longer, thumb brushing against your boob.
"I wanted to fuck you from the moment I saw you" He said, thumb brushing against your boob. Then he stepped back, taking off his other glove.
"Please do" You tell him.
You can hear him chuckling under his helmet. He looked at you, his head slightly tilted. He threw his gloves at the floor, and walked back to you. his hands found your waist and rested there.
"Yeah? You want me to fuck you?" He asked teasingly.
You pressed your body to his, your hands found his neck and pulled him close.
"Yeah" You answered, your mouth slightly brushing his helmet at you spoke.
"May I?" Din asked, tugging at you top. He pulled the shirt off of you when you nodded, gazing at your body, at the bra on your chest.
"Go lay on the bed"Din commended.
"Yes sir" You replied with a chuckled, and did as he asked.
Din started taking off his armor, eyes never leaving your beautiful body, laid on the bed, waiting for him.
"Take of your pants" He said, and so you did.
He took of his armor slowly and methodically, with no rush. You laid on the bed, with only your bra and panties, looking at him taking of his armor. When he was left with only his flightsuit on, he walked towards the bed.
"You're gorgeous" He said, standing at the foot of the bed, taking off his flightsuit slowly, teasingly.
After what felt like ages he was finely done. Din claimed on the bed, crawling over sprawled body. One of his hand made it's way up to your face, grazing over your cheek. His other hand went down to your leg, gripping your thigh.
"Please I need you" You begged.
"Yeah?" He asked, hand leaving your thigh, moving slowly towards your wet core.
A gasp left your lips when his fingers finely touched your clothed cunt, your eyes rolled back.
"So wet" He said, his helmet against your ear.
His fingers drew circles on your panties, his other hand left your face and unclipped your bra, removing it.
"Please, need to feel you inside of me" You said against his helmet.
"Patience, dear"
He moved your panties aside, his fingers finally making contact with your cunt. He pushed one finger into you, a moan leaving your lips. His finger started to move inside of you, causing sweet sounds to leave your lips. Din chuckled at the sight of you so unraveled by only one finger, and added another finger into you.
You gripped his back, feeling a tight knot forming at your stomach. Your eyes were closed, a soft moan leaving your lips every time his fingers his the sweet spot inside of you. His fingers moved slowly, like everything he did, but they made you feel so goo so fast.
"I'm so fuck- close" You said, the knot in your stomach feels like it might come undone every second.
"Mum for me" Din said.
His words made you came undone. You were panting, din pulled his fingers out of you, making a sigh escape your lips. He pulled your soaked panties off and set up over you.
"Are you okay? He asked
"Yeah" You replied.
He took off his underwear, and laid on top of you. He pushed your legs open, your hands gripped his shoulders
"Ready?" He asked, lining himself with your entrance.
"Yes" You replied.
He slowly pushed into you, a groan leaving his lips.
"So tight, fuck- so wet" He said.
After a moment he started moving in and out of you, making a moan fall from your mouth every time he hit your spot, nails digging into his back. Din moved slow, so slow it was driving you insane.
"Please, faster" You begged.
He was so big, he was driving into you so good, you were barley able to think.
Din accepted your request, and started moving faster, harder. But he was still in control of his moves. The way he hit your sweet spot with every thrust, made you get to the edge in no time.
"M'close" You mumbled, barely able to speak.
"Hmm, you feel so good" He replied, head in the crook of your neck, picking up the pace of his thrusts.
Then he pulled out.
"Wha-" You cried at the emptiness.
"Turn around, dear" He commended.
You laid on your stomach, one of his hands was on your hip, the other on your upper back. He pulled your hips up, his hand pressing down on your back, keeping your face buried in the pillow.
"You're so pretty like this, so helpless" He said, lining himself up with your entrance.
He pushed into you, a moan leaving your lips at the stretch. He started moving, faster then before. You could tell he was beginning to lose control, that he was close. His hands held your hips in place while he thrusted into you, fast and hard"
"I'm so fuck-close, you gonna cum for me?" He asked.
You nodded, moaning into the pillow as he hit you just perfectly. Every thrust made your cunt tighten around him, what made groans fall from his lips.
After a few more thrust you tightened around him, and came undone with a scream, that was muffled by the pillow. He continued fucking you threw your orgasm.
"You sound shit so pretty" He said.
Din was out of breath and he was so so close.
He gave a few hard thrusts into you then he pulled out, releasing hot seed on your back.
He collapsed next to you, more like on you because the bed was too small. After he caught his breath he got up and went to the small bathroom, getting some toilet paper to clean you up. After he cleaned you and himself, he returned with a glass of water. Din set at the edge of the bed, handing you the glass. you set up and took a sip.
"Sleep here. I'll sleep on the top bunk." He said.
"Or you can sleep here with me" You replied.
"The bed's too small."
"Well be fine"
You laid on your side, Din laid behind you, hugging you.
"I'll be back in a second" Din whispered into your ear, but you were already asleep.
