#the mandolorian

[ezzuhme]

late night doodle

[djarins-cyare]

HUSH: Series Masterlist

A novel-length secret relationship story set after season 3, with an original plot, worldbuilding, and fully developed characterisation.

Summary: A risky decision traps an injured Din Djarin with Greef Karga’s adoptive niece for a fifteen-day lockdown, during which something steamy yet short-term evolves in secret. But ending it when the lockdown lifts isn’t as easy as either party thought, and there are many obstacles to navigate when everyday life starts up again.

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC!Reader (she’s physically a blank slate but has a canon-compliant background, so she’s you if you were born in the Star Wars Universe)

Word Count: TBC (>100k words in 16 chapters)

Author’s Note: This fic started as a oneshot for @burntheedges’s Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge in August 2024, but it accidentally turned into a novel – oops! It took me so long to write and edit (21 months!) because I’ve genuinely slaved over it. After I finished the first draft, I took some writing classes, then went back and edited every single word to get it perfect. It’s turned into something I’m really proud of, so I hope you enjoy! As always, concepts and lore are accurately researched to satisfy Star Wars nerds but also referenced/explained to ensure those less familiar with the franchise can enjoy and understand everything, too.

*** FULLY WRITTEN, CHAPTERS RELEASED EVERY THIRD SATURDAY ***

Please feel free to JOIN MY TAG LIST or lmk in the comments if you’d like a tag for this fic only.

Chapter 1: In The Mood For Solitude [AO3]

Chapter 2: Armless, But Never Harmless [AO3]

Chapter 3: Confidential Potential [AO3]

Chapter 4: Built To Uncover Our Guilt [AO3]

Chapter 5: It’s My Purview To Serve You [AO3]

Chapter 6: Secret Sex Isn’t Complex [coming 5 September 2026]

Chapter 7 (part 1): My Undercover Lover

Chapter 7 (part 2): Exceptions and Deceptions

Chapter 8: Keep Going, It’s Mindblowing

Chapter 9: Guess What I Heard, Little Bird

Chapter 10: Encore! So Much More In Store

Chapter 11 (part 1): Don’t Smirk, I Work Here, You Jerk

Chapter 11 (part 2): Not A Stranger To Danger

Chapter 12: Let’s Trade – Your Blade, My Charade

Chapter 13: The Sweet Abyss Of Your Kiss

Epilogue: Renowned, Crowned, Now Homeward Bound

➤ MAIN MASTERLIST

[pinksplace]

Thinking about Mando’s reaction to you getting a loth cat while he was gone

mdni 18+

the most important thing to know is that mando didn’t want the cat.

he hardly tolerated the kid, hardly wants to shell out the credits to feed him, and feed you. Never mind himself.

You knew that, you knew better than to ask him for it. Choosing to beg for forgiveness after the fact instead.

It would’ve worked, you swear it would’ve. The cat was locked in the fresher, the kid down for a nap, all you had to do was get to Mando, pull down his pants, and perform out of this system oral.

You didnt hear him come in, strike one. instead, his presence was announced by the clattering a steel pet bowl and the sound of a beskar knee pad hitting the ship floor hard enough to make it vibrate. strike two. you don’t even have enough time to get out of your cot, hardly a chance to explain because all of a sudden he’s there, holding the dented metal in front of your face. You offer him no apologizes, no explanation, not even a shitty lie. No, instead you whisper a meek “surprise?”

Mando hates surprises. strike three.

That’s how you found yourself on your knees, face pressed into the hard floor of the ship while his cock rams into from behind. His hand is on the back of your neck, gloved fingers pressing on either side of your windpipe as he pins you down.

Like an animal, you scramble for purchase on the floor, nails scratching uselessly at doonium beneath you.

He splits you open without mercy, harsh breathes catching in his modulator with every thrust, the only sign he’s as ruined as you are.

“I’m sorry-“ you choke, voice wet and rough as you try to speak. “Please Mando I-“

“You what?” He curses, agitation evident. “Thought you could be cute? Thought because I fuck you, you can get away with anything?”

You gurgle, body going limp as you feel him shift. He places a foot on the outside of your hip, keeping one knee bent for leverage as he pulls you back onto his cock.

“What do I need a pet for,” he spits, “when I got you?”

anyway you wake up the next morning with bruises on your thighs in the shape of beskar armor and find Mando in the captains chair, the cat fast asleep in his lap.

“Gonna call it muddy”

wrote this the other day for my friend @iamthatonefangirl and I can’t stop thinking about it

[theladyfulcrum]

[wrathkitty]

Short Debts Make Long Friends - Ch 27 snippet

“Why did you take off your helmet?” you ask softly.

Din’s eyes open and flicker away. “I’ve never seen you look that scared,” he finally replies, voice stiff. 

The hard, thin line of his mouth compels you to drop your gaze, and you look down at the glove in your lap, touched. “Thank you.”

He responds with a barely audible, “You’re welcome.”

Silence descends, by virtue of sheer exhaustion. This clusterfuck of a conversation is far from over, but you’ll have to unpack the rest of it tomorrow. 

Din stands and goes to fetch his helmet from where he left it on the dresser, and this time you are mindful to keep your eyes averted. You slump forward with a sigh, propping your chin in your hand. Now what? Go cry in the shower, or wait until morning to sob yourself sick? Both prospects seem equally pointless, and after all the post-explosion shenanigans, it will be a bonafide miracle if you hobble out of bed tomorrow without screaming. 

Shower, you conclude. A real one, with scalding hot water and actual soap. 

You are bracing yourself for the aftermath of cheap hotel shampoo when Din suddenly chokes out your name in a broken voice — your real one.

You snap your head up, stunned. “How do you -”

The helmet hits the ground, and Din collapses onto his knees at your feet. 

“You’ve seen my face,” he pleads, reaching out to grasp your hands in both of his. “You’re seeing it now. What if –” He swallows, fighting valiantly to remain composed. “What if I took my helmet off when it’s very important?”

“This isn’t a break-glass-in-case-of-emergency thing,” you try to explain. “How am I supposed to know what you’re feeling?”

“You always know what I’m feeling, better than anyone else,” he insists. “Better than Grogu, even.”

Your heart sinks. “Oh, Din…”

Acting on impulse, you reach forward and smooth his hair away from his brow, lightly running your fingertips through the overgrown curls. All you want is to comfort him, but this man has been starved, and the consequences are instant. 

Din catches hold of your hand and closes his eyes, shuddering as he presses your palm to his cheek. 

“Please,” he whispers hoarsely. He opens his eyes again and tightly laces his fingers with yours. “Be with me. I’ll do anything.”

Link to Main fic: Short Debts Make Long Friends - An over-educated, underpaid millennial finally gets to go on her first adventure.

Tag list - it's a mess. Just LMK if you want on or off. (And please reblog if you think to!)

@ababysupernova

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@littlemisspascal

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@coffeebeforewater

@terecord

@leithatnight

@lokiofstoriesalwaysthemselves

@djarins-cyare

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@sleepingghoule444

@patatslt

@leeroyjagginz

@idontcarewahthappenstome

[softgatorade]

A gift

You are an artist but that's difficult to maintain as a hobby when you travel across the galaxy, sometimes. But every so often, Mando surprises you.

It was difficult to maintain a hobby sometimes whilst travelling through space. Especially when you were also babysitting - what exactly was he again? Did anyone know?- a green baby and also helping with bounties when needed.

Most of the time you were in the ship or just outside of it, depending on if you were in a good location or not. And depending on if the target was easy...or not. On a "regular" day with no complications and no invitation to join Mando, you were with Grogu making sure he didn't eat something he shouldn't or disappear. One time you caught him trying to climb into the vents and another time he was successful and you had to find him before Mando came back. You did, although you could see his helmet physically tilt as he looked at the child giggling and you sweating, hair plastered to your forehead.

Mando was a good guy. As in he was nice, his occupation was questionable and his methods moreso but he was amicable. He wasn't rude or aggressive (to you) and although he wasn't chatty per day, he did answer if you asked him questions. Mostly you asked about the bounties, the people he knew, the places he had been. Nothing too deep. Nothing about his identity. Nothing too personal. You couldn't quite work out if you had made it to banter level or if you were still an acquaintance sometimes. Especially with no expressions to bounce off of.

"that constellation looks like a penis," you remember saying once, and he didn't respond apart from a sigh. Maybe the day was more strenuous than you thought, but he didn't laugh. Although you swore you saw a shoulder move. He definitely shook his head and you didn't make anymore jokes that day.

Another time though, you were playing with the child, just silly messing around on the floor of the cockpit as Mando guided the ship through the stars and a rogue asteroid flew out of nowhere. Mando quickly tipped the controls to swerve the ship out of the way- light work for him, especially being sat in the pilot chair, but he forgot one detail.

You and the kid. On the floor.

As the ship jolted, you were flung to the left towards him and the controls, the kid rolling suit. Your arms flailed as you tried to grab something, anything, as you tumbled.

"ah!" Mando looked down at the noise, before he lurched forward, grabbing the kid with one hand and stopping you from headbutting the wall of the ship with his other arm. Instead of metal, you headbutted his bicep instead. You felt him tense as you collided and he pushed back, trying not to fall right into the mess that you and the kid had accidentally created with your flying bodies.

"sorry." He said as he looked over the kid and plopped him back on the floor. "Still not used to more than one passenger."

"I'm fine" you replied "lucky the armour is outside only" you gestured to his arm "or then it would be a different story."

That simple gesture, a weak joke to cover up how embarrassed you were at being flung around like a rag doll and not being able to steady yourself- and for instead crashing into Mando and his -very strong feeling- arms. That got a chuckle from him. A soft, airy one, but a small laugh.

Today you had escaped any gruelling searches of the vents as Grogu was sleeping in his pod. He was tired after an action packed day yesterday which meant you could escape. Usually that meant drawing or painting but your paints had run out around two planets ago and you had yet to find any. Your pencils had been obliterated by Grogu a few weeks ago when you left them out by accident and he decided to play with them, which ended up with them being splintered into a million pieces. When Mando saw you picking up the pieces you could have sworn he actually felt bad like it was his fault. Even though you had left them on the dash by accident when you heard the ship door open followed by the carbonite freezer. Despite being an established member of the team now, kind of, that noise still made you jump.

So today you had been outside on the steps, just reading. That was something you had managed to keep relatively safe from any prying fingers. The weather was good, there weren't any risks of fights coming back to the ship according to Mando so you could relax and read until the evening. He expected to be away for that long at least.

Being outside in the warmth reminded you of home, although it wasn't quite as dusty there as it was here. You were surrounded by desert and the dust was hot. Times like these made you miss home but also feel content with the space-adventure life.

"hey." A familiar, low voice called out on the radio. You had it clipped to your waist at all times as per Mando's instructions. Just in case. You must have fallen asleep, you realised as your eyes opened to darkness and the smell of old pages. How long were you asleep? Running a hand down your back you could feel indents of the metal from the ramp and you cracked as you pulled yourself up. Folding the corner of the page you had been reading you looked up, squinting through the brightness. Mando was in the distance, not too far away from the ship with his bounty and a package on his side. He must have seen you lying on the ramp and was worried the kid had gotten out of you had been raided. You felt a bit anxious and embarrassed as he got closer.

"hey. Sorry, I fell asleep." You replied on the radio.

"you looked knocked out." He responded.

"sorry." He sighed and you waited for him to get to the ship. "Good day?" You asked, following him into the ship. He hummed in response, pushing the bounty into the carbonite freezer and closed up the ramp.

"it was ok. Easier than expected." You watched as he did his usual routine of returning to the cockpit and checking the kid, the controls, the status of the area.

"that's good." He seemed to not be in a chatty mood, going straight to his area in the cockpit where he usually slept and kept his belongings. You disappeared into the back of the ship to your own space he had carved out in the stockroom and set about giving Grogu some snacks as he was beginning to whine upon Mando returning and waking up from his own nap.

He was a sweet thing, almost like a real baby or toddler. You sat him on your makeshift bed and watched as he ate the little rations from the last food trip that you had gotten him from the markets. That was your favourite thing- finding something new to try either for Grogu or you and Mando. Sometimes it was a trinket that was silly like a little sword made of wood for the dash or a ball for Grogu to play with (try to eat). Usually it was food.

After Grogu finished eating and ransacking your space for other things to entertain himself, he decided to head back to the cockpit. You stretched out on the bed and peeled your book from the shelf, flicking to the right page. In the background you could hear the chortles of the kid and Mando chiding him.

"No. Don't touch that. No. It's not yours."

"What did I say? No."

"Hey. Stop that."

After a while of entertainment you decided to go and help out the Mandolorian with his foundling who was still grabbing at whatever Mando didn't want him touching. You walked in and they both turned, the baby doe eyed and Mando reaching towards his green fists. He swiped something from his hands whilst Grogu was distracted by your entrance.

"Parenting struggles?" You asked, kicking up your feet in the co-pilot chair. Grogu came waddling over. You swiped him up and sat him on your lap. He tried to fiddle with the buttons so you unscrewed the metal ball from one of the joysticks and gave him that instead. This seemed to keep him entertained enough to put him in his carrier and occupy him enough for Mando to change the controls and get everything going for another trip.

You were happy watching the stars all pass by as Mando steered the ship. Occasionally looking over to watch him. He was fixated on the galaxy in front of him, moving sticks and pressing buttons without looking away. You watched the galaxy reflected in his armour and his helmet.

"can I help you?" He asked.

"hm?" You said, still watching the stars light up the beskar.

"you're staring." Shit. You forgot sometimes that even though you can't see his face he still had eyes that you presumed moved enough to see in peripheral.

"beskar reflects the stars really well. That's all." And you could see his muscles tense at rougher moments when there was a rock that needed avoiding. He hummed, unconvinced by your statement but not willing to push anymore. His hand kept twitching and you noticed a bag near him.

"do you want me to get that for you?" You asked.

"huh? What? No." He replied. This time he broke from the trail in front to scoop up the bag and put it on his lap. Whilst he steered with one hand, the other was rooting in the bag, counting what was in it .

When you were flying it was peaceful and you both sat in silence, watching the galaxy and Grogu as he played with the metal ball until he fell asleep. Mando got up, hovering near you as you patted Grogu's head. He pulled the bag he had been holding earlier out from behind him, his fingers gripping the handles.

"this. This is for you." He said, nervously. He reached over the baby to give the bag to you and took his foundling in exchange, putting him in his crib.

Inside the bag was a new sketchbook, pencils and paint set- handcrafted ones at that. The paintbrushes were burgundy like ones you had seen one time when you were out on a mission with Mando, the paints were in a wooden case with flowers burnt into the edges like the flowers that you had mentioned were your birth month one time in a conversation. There were replacement pencils coated in a very close colour to Grogu on the outside.

"The pencils are from him." Mando said, gesturing to Grogu. "To make up for the ones he destroyed."

"and the others?" You palmed through the booklet which detailed who poured the paints and what they used as he loomed over you, watching your fingers turn the pages. His body was tense.

"A gift. From me." You could tell from the strained voice he was nervous and a bit embarrassed but as soon as you heard him you remembered all the times you got him and Grogu sweets or little treats calling them "a gift," as well as the times when Grogu got into the wires or something else and you returned the destroyed items to Mando with sarcasm as he realised what the "gift" actually was.

He was getting used to your quirks and ways of speaking as you spent more time on the ship with him and his foundling. Even though he was quiet sometimes he did truly listen and take note of things, like your penchant for art and warm days. It made your chest feel fuzzy as you pictured him going around the market stalls looking for the correct tools and bag. Actually even the bag was a gift- it was velvety with a gold drawstring and tiny little embroidered stars that were rough against the fabric

"For storage. He can't open drawstrings. I tested it." Mando chuckled as he looked over at Grogu. You remembered that Mandolorians usually show their affection rather than say it- which made sense given the helmets. It gave you great pride that you had managed to gain some affection from the Mandolorian, although part of you was itching to know more. God you felt like a teenager, buzzing at the sight of a crush.

"they're really great I love them! Thank you, you really didn't have to but I do appreciate them! I love the designs."

"good." His shoulders relaxed as you gushed and thankfully you must have looked appreciative enough- you were always awkward with gift receiving and facial expressions and were forever worried that you looked horrified at a gift.

"you ran out the other week." He said after a while of watching the maps as you sharpened and played with your new tools. "so I got you new ones after I finished the job."

"Not many people make their own paints and stuff the way these guys do anymore. Look, here's the studio." You pointed in the leaflet to show him the drawings of the artists at work.

"that's where I got them from."

"the source?! Not just a market stall? You went into the studio?! What was it like, did they give you a tour?"

"I'll take you back next time. Without the kid." He said, pointing to him as he snored. "It's going to get bumpy now."

"It's a date." You felt your heart in your throat. The most ballsy thing you have said since bargaining a place on the ship and now the ship was at full throttle, Grogu was awake and thankfully enjoying the hyperspeed and your insides were jelly from the speed and your dumbass saying "it's a date" to someone whose face you couldn't even read- not that you were even good at that anyway.

"a date." Mando said, swerving the ship. You gripped at the arms of the co-pilot chair and dug your nails in. Was he trying to make you suffer even more?! Your face was burning already.

"figure of speech. I would like to go though."

"a date." He repeated, before another asteroid nearly hit the ship.

[backtothefanfiction]

Skin | Mandalorian x Reader

Summary: mando collects a bounty on your deadbeat boyfriend and he feels guilty when you are caught up in the skirmish, but is that all he’s feeling?

Warnings: hurt comfort

Word count: 1k-ish?

A/N: just a quick one before I go to bed. It’s been a while, I’ve been a busy bee, but I wanted a moment with Din before I slept and I couldn’t be bothered to scroll for ages trying to find a fic that satisfied, so I wrote my own. Enjoy.

For a bounty hunter he wasn’t very quiet. You could hear him clunking the whole way through the hull of the ship as he moved down from the cockpit and towards the loading ramp to find you. It wasn’t fully extended so you could dangle your legs off the side of the ship; and although you could hear him coming, you made no effort to turn back towards him. Instead you kept your eyes fixated on the horizon, thinking back on the events of the day, your eyes squinting as you watched the sun slowly set in the distance.

He was quiet at first when he sat down beside you. He sat so broad in his beskar, there was only just about enough room for you to sit side by side, his pauldron covered shoulder pushing uncomfortably against your own. But still you didn’t look at him. You listened as his deep steady breathes came through the modulator on his helmet.

“So you really never take it off?” your deadpan voice asked him, your eyes still lingering on the view in front of you.

“I take it off,” he said back and for a moment you thought that was all he was going to give you, until he said, “when it needs cleaning.”

“What about when you sleep?” you answered back, your head finally turning to look at him. He was so close you could see your reflection clearly in the polished chrome, the bruise above your eyebrow and split in your lower lip on full display for you to see. You fought to keep eye contact even though everything in your being willed you to turn back away.

“That to,” he said.

“What about eating?” you asked again.

He paused a moment, his breathing hitching only slightly before it fell back into its steady rhythm once more. “That depends on whether I’m alone.”

You frowned at him, but he didn’t turn his face towards you. “So you don’t take it off in front of others,” you surmised.

He didn’t respond but the faintest tilt of his head down, told you you were right.

Your gaze turned to your fingers, your hands fiddling anxiously with the torn hole in your trousers.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, when he noticed your fingertips ghosting over the exposed skin.

“No, it’s just a graze,” you informed him.

“What about your face?” he asked, his gloved hands moving to tilt your chin back up towards him so he could get a better look.

When you tilted your head up, his helmet was far too close. Although you couldn’t see his eyes behind the visor of his helmet, you knew they were fixed on you. Their unknown colour analysing every mark, every blemish that dickhead, now frozen in carbonite somewhere in the ship, had left behind.

His gloved thumb moved up to brush at the sides of the cut on your lip and you winced, the skin feeling puffy and tender.

“You should get some bacta on that,” he said. His tone seemed slightly different than normal. He still spoke as if everything he said was a matter of fact, but there was a hint of something else beneath his words. Was that his attempt at compassion?

Your eyes scanned his visor back and forth, trying to blindly search his eyes, trying to find the hint of an extra movement, a trace of something warm under the cold exterior of his armour. His persona.

“Wait here,” he eventually said, before he got up and moved back into the ship in search of something.

When he came back, he had a small medical kit in hand. He sat back down before placing it on the floor beside him. You watched with baited breath as slowly he began to pull one glove off of his hand, then the other.

Skin. Normal human skin. So he definitely was human under all that armour then. You watched as his thumbs flicked the latches on the tiny metal box of medical supplies, his fingers rooting through the different contents until he found a sachet of bacta gel. Gingerly, he tore off the top of the packet before squeezing a small amount of the gel out of the top and onto the pad of his thumb.

Your breathe caught in your throat as he brought it up to your lip. The surprisingly soft pad of his thumb smeared the clear blue gel over the cut on your lip. Your lip trembled at his touch and a faint shiver moved down your spine, the faint hairs on your arms, sticking on end.

Your eyes blinked heavily at him as you fought to keep them on the black T shape of his visor. He hesitated for a moment, his thumb lingering in the corner of your lip and you realised, his own breathing through the modulator had grown silent.

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded with him breathlessly.

It was as if your words broke him from a trance, his throat clearing before his steady breaths filtered back out through the modulator again, his body sitting more upright, placing a little more distance between you both once more. It made your heart twinge, but you didn’t know why. He was just a stranger really. A kind Samaritan who had offered to take you home after he collected a bounty on your piece of shit boyfriend. He was doing a job. Being a decent human, nothing more.

So then why did every lingering look feel charged? Why did his every silence feel like a thousand unspoken words? Why did his breathing stop? Why did his hand hesitate? Why had he still not moved away?

“What about your leg?” he asked, finally breaking the tension between you both.

You shifted, manipulating the tear in the fabric to one side to show the roughed up skin and slowly forming scab. He moved to squeeze a little more of the bacta onto the tips of his fingers before he gently smoothed the gel onto the skin. This time his touch forced the faintest sigh of relief to fall past your lips as the cooling touch of the gel soothed the heated patch of skin and you closed your eyes as you relaxed under his touch.

The gel quickly turned pink as it mingled with the coagulated blood. You opened your eyes to watch as he continued to move it around your skin in gentle circles. Gradually his movements slowed, but just like before, they didn’t move away.

Then, you thought back to what he’d said. What he’d implied. He very rarely took his armour off. This was probably the first skin to skin contact he’d had in a long time. Your breathing grew more laboured with the realisation. He could have had you do this yourself. Left you with the medical kit and gone back to the cockpit to start on plotting the co-ordinates for his next pick up before he dropped you home. But he didn’t.

Once again he said nothing, but it was like he could read your mind. Knew the thoughts running through your head. Again he cleared his throat. “Is there anywhere else?” he asked. There was almost a hint of embarrassment to his voice, but his modulator hid it well.

You couldn’t speak, just shook your head no.

He gave the faintest nod of his head before he finally took his hand away and dropped the open bacta packet onto the top of the medical box.

“We will be leaving soon,” he said, as he stood abruptly. “We should close the hatch.”

Slowly you nodded at him, your gaze glancing up to him, your lips practically glued together as you fought to keep all the questions burning up inside you from spilling out. Your skin felt flush the words burned so bright, but you said nothing.

You shimmied back further into the spacecraft and his fingers hit the button that closed the door as you stood. Neither one of you said anything as you now stood face to face with one another. From this position, he once again felt intimidating, his silence and height carrying so much weight. But then you looked back to his bare hands, smears of your blood and the bacta still on his fingers and they couldn’t help but linger, desperate for him to touch you again.

But you knew this was a one off. In two cycles time you’ll be back home with your parents and he’ll be flying off into the distance to hand over his bounties and collect his credits, never to be seen again. But maybe that was the reason for you to at least try. To at least attempt to see more of the man behind the armour. But alas, nothing with this man would ever be as simple as it seemed.

[lukeskywalkersrighthand]

Guys Mandalorian hair !!!!

Like I just was thinking about Din dreaming of Luke running his hands through his hair like a Victorian man imagining a bit of ankle.

Before they are married, Luke innocently touches one of Din’s curls. It had escaped under Din helmet and Luke couldn’t help but reach out with a simple tug.

Dins head whipped around so fast that Luke heard his neck crack. The Jedi is clueless that he did anything crazy and Din is silently having a mental breakdown.

Once they are married, Din is still super shy. He feels naked without his helmet. But soon he realizes that Luke can do a lot more than just look at him without his helmet on.

He becomes obsessed with Luke touching his hair. He loves the feeling of the man playing with it. Everytime they are alone din IMMEDIATELY has his head his Luke’s lap. Luke just smiles fondly and stokes his fingers through Dins curls.

Luke offers to give him a hair cut one day and Din almost passed out with how hard he blushed at the thought.