#droidwrites
Text
To be taken care of
Pairing: Din Djarin x AFAB!Reader
Summary: Spotchka makes Mando show his desire to take care of you.
Word count: 4k
Warnings: Bounty Hunter!Reader, soft!Din, set before Season One, smut!!!, little plot for context, but also FLUFF!, v fingering, no gendered words used, no y/n, alcohol, dirty talk, drunk sex, hint of praise kink, mirror kink, feelings???, reader is clueless about them tho, kind of sinful use of the helmet sorry armorer!
A/N: Hi!!! This is the first time I’m writing for this fandom OMG. I have little experience writing fics and I’m not 100% happy about this, but hey I had fun while typing smut at work! Also English is not my mother tongue and I have no Beta only Grammarly, although I edited this thoroughly, so sorry if this is awkward hehehe, I’d love to hear your thoughts about it!
You both probably had exceeded your tolerance limit with the spotchka that the kind people of Sorgan had gifted you on your last visit to the planet. Everything started with an excruciating hunt that had taken a toll on you and your bussiness partner. When the trandoshan male you’d been persecuting for weeks was finally frozen in carbonite, both of you sighed in relief and then your gaze met with his behind the visor. Neither of you were very talkative, your silences sometimes speaking louder than words. In addition, you both where extra grumpy that night because of the tiredness. Limping because of your sore muscles, provoked by hiding lying down on the hard floor for hours, you went directly to the spot where your provisions were. He tilted his head, curious. Normally after a hunt, you run to the shower to clean the grime accumulated from the days on the run.
Mando's questions were rapidly resolved when you triumphantly showed him the blue bottle and two metal mugs you used for everything. You must be a minimalist in a ship like the Razor Crest, which was definitely not designed for habitability. You also showed him the reusable straw you got him so he could drink in front of you on the field without worrying about his Creed. He fixated his helmet on you and finally nodded, so you poured him the spotchka filling the cup to the brim and then did the same for you. Next you let yourself slip down the metal floor with a heavy thump, too exhausted to stand for a minute more. He followed you and soon you found yourselves toasting lazily on the ground and drinking in silence.
“You did great today, mesh’la.” He said after emptying his mug for the first time that evening. You downed your beverage on your lap and looked at him as if he had gone nuts. In your time with him, he’d never praised you for your work. It was just expected that you gave your 100% in your hunts, right? You were after all partners, business partners. Associates. That sometimes fucked, alright. But you both kept things professional. So why did his praise affect the color of your cheeks that much?
“Thanks, Mando.” You muttered after finishing your spotckha too, offering to fill his mug again by raising the bottle towards him. He nodded and his gaze didn’t leave you this time. The truth was that Din was impressed by your performance in this last job. He knew you were a capable bounty hunter, of course, or he wouldn't have asked you to join him in the first place. It was only for one job initially, but you’d been so resourceful and worked so well along with him that he had to request you to join him full-time.
In the field, you always had his back, saving his metal ass more than one time, and your perception and ability to read people’s intentions was incredibly useful. Even though you weren't Mandalorian, he respected you as a warrior as if you were one of them. Not only respect, he felt admiration towards you.
And then it was the other side of your partnership. The one that occurred in the dark, rushed, your flushed skin against the cold beskar and soft sighs fogging his visor. The first time occurred after a near-death experience, the adrenaline ended in you being pressed against the wall in some alley by his beskar-clad body. He discovered you weren’t only outstanding at bounty hunting, but in other disciplines too.
Your intercourses would usually happen after a hunt gone south when both of you were especially frustrated and needed to let some steam off. You had three unspoken rules about them: you never talked while fucking, it was always done in the dark, and you never mentioned it afterwards. And of course, the helmet stayed on. You could never have imagined that you'd break all of the rules the current night.
You both had emptied the second round by the moment Mando spoke again. "I'm glad you accepted to be my business partner." His voice through the modulator caught you off guard, as you were lost in thought at the moment. He wasn't looking at you this time. You wondered if he was already drunk because he was behaving so off-character.
"You only say that because you love my stew." You chuckled nervously while pouring another mug for yourself. He asked his to be filled too and half of the spotchka was already gone. You could feel your palms against the glass sweaty: this opening-up-with-Mando thing was new for you.
"No…Yes, I mean… I do love your stew." It actually was the best he'd tasted and a great change from the ration packs he'd usually consume while on the Razor Crest. Mando played with the metal straw in his drink as if it was filled with your star recipe. "But what I'm saying is…it's nice to have you around." You looked at him quizzically, without a clue about where this conversation was directed or what was he referring to. Like he enjoyed your presence? Impossible. You rarely even spoke and didn’t know a lot about each other. Just enough to know you could trust your partner in the field. Maybe he was referring to sex. You knew he enjoyed it, as you did too. It was hot and somewhat felt forbidden. But anything in his cryptical tone indicated he was talking about sex, and it would be a first between you. Finally you decided he must be speaking about your job, you worked well together for sure.
"I suppose…we make a good team." Your half smile was timid and Mando surprised himself when his heart skipped a beat at your smile, but he was a bit disappointed. That was not what he was referring to. Sometimes he wished to be as talented with words as Greef Karga. He nodded and sipped half of the liquid courage remaining in his mug when he heard you giggling.
"What?" He asked drily. He almost felt hurt, where you laughing at him after dodging his attempt to tell you how he felt? You tried to stop but the alcohol had started to take a toll on your self-control. Especially on your empty stomach.
"You…you look so…so cute with your straw." He now fixated his visor on you, and although you tried to stop your laughter with your hand he only made it worse by looking deadly while sipping his spotchka.
"So you bought it in order to make fun of me?" You couldn't discern if he was joking or not but you started to be too drunk to care. He was marveled by this relaxed version of you, looking careless while sprawled on the floor. Even during sex, you'll keep it together, always looking composed. Was a bit of spotchka the one thing it took for you to get loose? If that was the case, he'd buy supplies for ages on the next planet.
"No dummy, I got it because that time you got dehydrated on Tatooine! You scared the shit out of me." Mando hardly remembered how that hunt ended, since in fact, he ended up fainting because of the lack of liquids due to being glued by the hip to you all the mission. It was certainly embarrassing. But what really made his cheeks flush was the endearing tone you had used to insult him.
"I appreciate how you always take care of me." His voice was softer than usual and the impact it had on you was totally unexpected. You stared at him frozen. Was he dehydrated again? You looked at the bottle of spotchka confused. Sure, it was a bit stronger than usual, but not that much.
"Mando… Are you drunk?" You asked carefully, and then he rotated all his body towards you.
"I want to take care of you, too." His voice came strained while he ignored your question. Your face couldn't be redder and your heartbeat started to go out of control. This couldn’t be happening, right? Where you reading well the room?
"Well, I could really use a massage. You know, my boss had me laying all day in some kriffing hole as if I was his personal sniper and my back is killing me." You said nonchalantly after a long silence, avoiding his face on purpose. He sighed in defeat and lay again in the position he was before, his long legs stretched on the floor.
"Your boss looks like an asshole." You could hear now a smile behind the helmet in his voice that warmed your heart.
"He's a tough bone, but he ends up growing on you." You winked at him and then got up, feeling suddenly how drunk you actually were. You stretched your arms over your head and then your neck and Mando could hear the crack of every one of your bones.
“I’ll give you that massage.” You weren’t expecting that he’d taken it seriously at all. He was no stranger to your body, but this new behavior of his was getting on your nerves. You had already spoken more than in all the month you were on board the Razor Crest. Slowly you nodded.
“Let me shower real quick first.” Without further notice, you locked yourself in the refresher to have the fastest shower in history, leaving The Mandalorian with his thoughts while you replayed your conversation in your head, trying to figure out his intentions.
After refreshing, you looked through your possessions, finally finding the small bottle of scented oil, and then returned to the hull while drying your hair a bit with a towel. The shower hadn't diminished your drunken state at all, and you were feeling feisty now. Thinking about how Mando was going to give you a massage had ignited your desire. And you could work with that. Because even though emotional intimacy wasn’t your forte, you new plenty about the physical one.
Mando was in the same place you had left him, now his back against the wall in a relaxed demeanor. He looked at you and then he was thankful you couldn't see his face. Of course, he had seen you in your undergarments before, but always in a non-sexual way like attending to your wounds or just a glimpse here or there. When you fucked you’d both keep most of your clothes on. He’d never appreciated you in all your glory towering over him like this. He gulped and felt his pants somewhat tighter.
You then sat nimbly in front of him, your back facing his front, and left the oil in your right so he could reach it. You noticed that another quarter of the spotchka bottle was missing.
"Confiscated." Giving him a mischievous glance, you twisted your body to reach the bottle and opened it to have a sip directly from it. Mando still hadn't moved a millimeter. A single drop slid along your throat and suddenly he wished he could lick it so badly. He had noted that your demeanor had changed, no longer nervous but confident in your body and sexuality. And that kriffin made him snap. His large hands snaked around your hip bones, dragging your body closer to his chest in one movement You gasped at the sudden contact, but this was familiar. Rough Mando, pressing you from behind against the nearest surface.
His long, muscular legs were spread around you, and you couldn't but appreciate his width and strength, seduced to caress where the beskar wasn't covering them. The time started to go slower as you stroked his skin through the flight suit. Sometimes it was difficult to remember that under all the metal a living red-blooded man resided. And said man was shivering now under your soft touches, praying that you didn't notice his neediness. He was a warrior with a task.
"Mesh'la, let me take care of you." His voice was gentle and raspy when he spoke next to your ear, and if he hadn't been wearing a helmet, you could have felt his breath tickling your skin. The tone in which he pronounced the foreign word made you feel a lot of things, some of them directed to your lower abdomen. You heard the tap of the oil and goosebumps of anticipation covered your skin. When the first drops slid down your column you were the one shivering this time.
When you felt his hands over your skin, you melted. You hadn't noticed when he’d removed his gloves. He rarely did it, and feeling them on your abused shoulders was like warm honey. You almost moaned from the touch of the rough skin of his big palms, his strong thumbs working on the knots that always formed over your shoulder blades. It felt heavenly.
“Is this okay?” If you didn’t know better, you’d swear his voice sounded a bit shy, but it was always difficult to tell through the modulator.
“S’ perfect Mando.” Your tone was breathy as you started to get a bit much worked up by his touch. He hummed and continued with his ministrations in silence. The moment felt fragile: you’d never had this intimacy together before. You noticed he was taking his time with you, feeling every muscle and curve of your strong back, tracing some scars scattered here and there. The alcohol and the massage were finally relaxing your tensed body, and then a moan you couldn’t stop escaped from your lips. His hands, which were working on your lower back at that moment, stopped and you could feel his entire body tense.
“Is this turning you on mesh’la?” All shyness was gone in a second, now his voice was thick with lust, a timbre you did recognize of him. His hands now had a harder grip on your back, like he needed to hold onto something. Sex with Mando was familiar ground, you felt relieved.
“Why don’t you check yourself?” Spotchka made you cheeky like that and you could hear Mando taking a heavy breath, confirming that your words had the effect you desired. Without warning, he dragged you towards his chest plate, the cold beskar biting your back while he positioned his helmet resting on your shoulder. Your heartbeat started to accelerate with anticipation. In this position, you could feel his chest rising every time: he was as worked up as you.
Painfully slow, he started to go over your outer thighs with a feathery touch with his calloused digits when then abruptly, he grabbed them and separated further making you gasp. The heat between your legs was unbearable and the thing you wanted more was for him to touch you. His grip on your inner thighs was almost painful, not that you minded, but you couldn’t stand more teasing.
“Mando, please…” You begged.
“Please what?” His fingers were now hovering over your clothed core, the fabric drenched in your slick. It wasn’t like your business partner hadn’t fingered you before, but it was always as a preparation for you to take his girth, never in this unrushed, lazy manner. Although you were going to explode from anticipation, you were loving every moment of it.
As Mando was too. The sensation of your plush skin filling his hands, your body pressing against his and dank farrik, your smell. It was driving him crazy, so much that he wanted to remove his helmet so he could appreciate the delicious smell of your wet pussy. His head was starting to spin and he couldn’t identify if it was for your fragrance or the quantity of spotchka running through his blood. He decided that the teasing was over then, and unceremoniously hooked his thumbs on your waistband and slid the piece of underwear down your legs, the soaked spot in the middle so evident it embarrassed you and turning him on even more. But he wasn’t still touching you where you needed him most. You were so done.
With your smaller hand, you grabbed his and placed it in your cunt letting go a snort and leaving Mando stunned.
“You wanted to take care of me? Then go on.” You said sassy, but your face was redder and hotter than a Sith’s lightsaber. He kriffing grunted and your breathing stopped when he finally put one of his thick fingers on your entrance to collect your slick. He amused himself at the fact that you were dripping because of him, feeling between surprised and a little proud about it. Then he started tracing lazy circles around your clit while spreading your pussy with the other hand. Mando relished himself in how soft and warm you were, imagining your flavor between his lips. In the confine of his flight suit, his cock twitched, impossibly harder. But today was about taking care of you and he was a man of his word.
His middle finger started tracing your slit up and down and you can’t help but waggle in his lap, feeling the pleasure spreading through your body. You inhaled hard when you notice the prominent bulge against your ass, growing only wetter at the sensation, and Mando could literally feel how your slick slid down your hole. While still rubbing your clit, he took advantage of the dampness to slide one finger inside, looking at that magic spot in your entrance that made your skin tingle. You moaned louder and he licked his lips under the helmet. An all-consuming desire was growing inside of him, the alcohol inside his veins whispering to him that he should indulge in his fantasy. You moan again in his arms and he’s a mess. Needs to taste you, to smell you to see your pussy drenched because of him. Every part of his body is in contact with yours, his helmet against your cheek. He’d love to bite your shoulder and mark your neck, and his need grows stronger while fantasizing about the idea.
“Mando…another finger…please.” Your voice was labored and so sexy he needs a sharp inhale to bring his brain the oxygen he needed. You were a beautiful mess. Your lips parted, cheeks red with lust and a sheer layer of sweat making your skin glow under the lights. This was nothing like taking you from behind in some cantina bathroom. He was done.
“Wait for a second mesh’la. And don’t turn around.” You nodded obediently, at this point you’d do whatever it took to be touched by The Mandalorian. Then you heard the hiss, you panicked a moment, knowing what the helmet meant for him. But inside you couldn’t deny the excitement from the anticipation about what he was going to do. Soon you had the answer. With a loud clank, he let his helmet rest between your spread thighs and then he breathed heavily, finally inhaling your sweet scent. It seemed odd to you that he didn’t choose another spot for his helmet, but then it hit you like a ton of bricks. Filthy bastard.
“Keep your legs spread for me.” His bossy tone made your pussy clench, you were used to his dry commands but in this context it made you drool. His unmodulated voice was like his hands, rough and gentle and warm at the same time, just like him. You found yourself wanting to hear more of it.
Mando’s hands traveled south once again and then he was spreading your lips, totally messy and wet. “Dank Farrik mesh’la look at you.” And you looked. The helmet, well-polished, silver beskar. His position between your legs wasn’t unintentional. You looked at your cunt at display, his large fingers caressing it like it was the most precious thing in the galaxy. You felt embarrassed and your first reflex was to close your legs. But he wasn’t having it.
“Mando, you’re shameless!” His strong hands didn’t let you close your legs but he spread them further. And when he had you like that, his fingers collected your slick determined to finally taste you. You could hear how he sinfully licked every finger and a more sinful, hoarse moan. You’d never hear him make a sound like that and it turned you to putty.
“Your cunt tastes as delicious as it looks.” Now, that was shameless. Who had imagined the reserved, soft-spoken Mandalorian had such a filthy tongue? His fingers were toying with your clit while he explored your hole with the other hand. Pleasure was filling every cell of your body and tiny moans were scaping more frequently from your lips, more aroused every second you looked at his movements reflected on the beskar surface.
“I’d love to taste you too Mando.” You teased grinding your hips on his cock, provoking a delicious sound from him.
“Another time mesh’la, I’m taking care of you today.” His voice was thick with drunkenness and desire and you couldn’t get enough of it. Then a perfect place stroke made you arch against him, leaving your neck at display for him. That delicious-looking skin was calling for him. A sharp bite startled you, provoking a loud moan from you. Even though he had removed his helmet, you didn’t expect him to use his lips on you. It looked like he was sporting a mustache and facial hair. Somewhat, it fitted the mental image you had of him and you siled internally. He continued sucking and biting all over your shoulders and neck, taking his time in your pulse point and you were a panting mess between his thighs, at this point, your slick even pooling on the floor.
His pace on your pussy was faster now, and you could feel and see how his fingers were knuckles deep in your insides, curved toward that delicious spot you could only reach with toys but he easily achieved to stroke. Dank Farrink, he did know your body. You realized he had to be paying more attention than you thought during your intercourses and that somehow made you hornier.
“Mando, I’m not gonna last much more…” Your voice was small, all your cheekiness from behind gone. You felt raw.
“That beautiful cunt’s gonna cum? Lemme see it mesh’la, give it to me.” Mando slurred as worked up and drunk as you. His words sent electricity directly to your pussy and your walls clenched against his fingers. “Kriff your body is amazing…you’re amazing.” His movements over your clit were now frantic and your vision started to blur. You succumbed to the sensation letting it hit you and then you were cuming all over Mando’s tan fingers with a loud cry of pleasure. He kept touching you until you shivered from overstimulation, dragging his fingers slowly from your puffy entrance. The vision was totally sinful. He started drawing lazy circles around your lips, caressing them. Your breath was still heavy while you came down from your high.
“Mando that was…” You didn’t have words for what had just happened.
“Do you feel better now cyar’ika?” His voice was soft again, even sleepy.
“Yeah, thank you for…taking care of me.” The alcohol and your orgasm were making your body drowsy, and you let yourself sink into his arms.
“Anytime.” He then kissed the point where your shoulder met your neck, something he hadn’t done before. You shivered at the sensation of his facial hair against your own skin and couldn’t help but smile fondly. In his odd way, he was sharing this private part of him with you and surprisingly your heart fluttered at the idea. He started then to drag his nose caressing your shoulder, it felt prominent, his mustache provoking goosebumps. You relished in his tenderness and at that moment you didn’t care anymore that this felt too intimate, wondering how it’d feel to kiss him. It was probably the spotchka why you were indulging in these thoughts and the reason you sighed like a teenager when his cheek leaned on yours. Probably tomorrow everything would be back to normal when both of you were sober, but for now, you’d let yourself enjoy how it felt to be taken care of by The Mandalorian.
#din djarin smut#din djarin x f!reader#din djarin x y/n#din djarin x reader#the mandolarian#the mandalorian smut#the mandalorian fanfiction#soft!din djarin#soft!mando#din djarin x gn!reader#din djarin x you#droidwrites
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A Freindly Face: Chapter One of Two
Everyone deserves something nice! Cal Kestis even more than others, and Mosey too! Something light and casual because it doesn't have to be dire life and death all the time! Companionship, good food and drink plus some sexy times to unwind.
“Oh stars, you're with someone.” She jumped to the next conclusion, “I’m sorry, I’ve just never seen you bring anyone around. You’ve never mentioned- well not that you need to-“
“No no, it’s not that. Not exactly, anyway” A vision of large dark brown eyes and coal colored lips passed through Cal’s mind, leaving a cloud of green smoke in its wake, before vanishing completely.
“I just thought… well … don’t you ever get lonely, Cal?” Mosey’s eyes were dark too.
Tag List:
@cafedeagua @jokidden @gabile18 @futuredisneyartist @hibernating4ever @i-am-mystic @elwethe @howlingmadlady @2badgersinatrenchcoat @trtc-745600 @teddiebuns @tinyplantinvasion @grumpy-red @tytoowl @mongol55
#cal kestis#jedi: survivor#droidwrites#mosey#jedi survivor#star wars fan fiction#not that theres anything wrong with that!#he deserves sexy times#it's a human right for those that want!#can a whole saloon be your new family?#cute down time with a whole saloon
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The Unknown Regions Masterlist
A Din Djarin X Plus Size Reader Series
Summary: You, a soft astrophysicist, meet the hardened Mandalorian in less-than-ideal circumstances. Your abilities will lead to you crossing the galaxy together in search of his green son.
Words: 10k+
Warnings: Smut on Chapters IV and VI; expect conversations about weight; body dysmorphia and internalised fatphobia that may be triggering, so read at your own discretion; reader is AFAB and user she/her pronouns; no use of y/n; the bucket stays on; naked female clothed male; fluff and smut; hurt and comfort; Sad Din :(
A/N: The last chapter of The Unknown Regions is finally in the oven so I prepared this little moodboard and finally made a Masterlist to celebrate. I hope you enjoy the series, I may write more about these two!
Read it on ao3
🪐 Chapter I: A long day
🪐 Chapter II: Bike ride
🪐 Chapter III: An expert
🪐 Chapter IV: Is it a bomb?
🪐 Chapter V: As you wish
🪐 Chapter VI:
🪐 Chapter VII:
#droidwrites#din djarin fanfic#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin x reader#din djarin x plus size!reader#din djarin x fem!reader#din djarin x female reader#din djarin x you#din djarin x y/n#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#din djarin smut#pedro pascal smut
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The Unknown Regions I
A Din Djarin x Fem Plus Size Reader Fic
Summary: You, a soft astrophysicist, meet the hardened Mandalorian in less-than-ideal circumstances.
Warnings: Expect conversations about weight, body dysmorphia and internalised fatphobia that may be triggering, so read at your own discretion; injuries and blood; canon typical violence; reader is AFAB and user she/her pronouns; no use of y/n; smut to come in next chapters; porn with plot; plot with porn; Din Djarin needs a hug and a fuck.
Word count: 2,631
A/N: This is something I’ve started, 100% self-indulgent since I have been feeling bad about some recent body weight gain. It was going to be just some pure filth with heavy body worship but the plot started to have its own life. This will be probably about 3 chapters long, so if you think it may be something you’d enjoy, I’m grateful to have you here!
🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐
It had been a long day and you were finally preparing to go to bed. You decided to pamper yourself a bit since you’d been more stressed than usually. So you took a long, hot shower. It was a luxury there in Tatooine, but one of the perks of your workplace were the good job conditions. Nevertheless, last weeks had been hectic and you had to stay at your office longer than normally. You loved your job, but you also appreciated some work-life balance and you weren’t having it at this moment. And your body was taking a toll too.
When the water went cold, you carefully exited the bathtub. Before wrapping yourself in a towel, you examined your body thoroughly and sighed. You had always fallen on the bigger side, and you liked it. Your curves, your softness, they made you feel sexy. But since you started this job, it was clear you hadn-t been taking care of yourself. The long hours at the observatory meant less sleep, less time to exercise and cook homemade, hearty meals. Not only did you feel more tired, but also it was clear that you had gained weight. You observed carefully the new stretch marks, the plush of your breasts and the tummy roll that wasn’t there before. Your new body. It looked kinda cute, but now your clothes didn’t fit anymore and your full bust spilled in every of your outfits. And the other problem was that you compared yourself with the other girls at work. It always escalated until you would start to feel insecure and your confidence weakened.
You sighed again and finally grabbed the towel, wrapping your hair, and then used another one to dry your body. After applying your lotions and skincare, you chose a beautiful nightie and then finally went to bed to resume reading the holobook you had been reading before on your commute to the observatory. It was important to you to have a comfortable nest where you could feel protected from the outer world, so you had invested in the softest duvet to cover you on Tatooine's cold nights. You were perfectly relaxed, even had a scented candle burning to help you decompress, when a blaster shot made you jump from the mattress .
Your first instinct was to drop to the floor and open the drawer on your nightstand where you hid your own gun. Your father had given it to you when he learnt that you would be transferred to the dangerous desertic planet. More shots, men shouting and a lot of metallic sounds. For the Maker’s sake, this compound was meant to be secure, these things didn’t happen to you anymore. It was very hard for you to achieve being in a stage of life where you felt safe. You were feeling afraid, but also angry. These people had broken into your little bubble and ruined your perfect evening.
The shooting continued and with every shot you flinched, but managed to prepare your blaster to defend yourself in case something happened. Maybe you’d have to accept the idea that there wasn’t anything like “safe” on Tatooine’s surface.
You stayed still and quiet for a while until the sounds ceased. Finally you could breathe, your heart still pounding, and dared to move. When you decided that it was quiet enough to stand up, another sound froze your blood. Your front door. There was someone there. You started trembling. You could call security. The residential complex where most of the observatory workers lived had its own since Tatooine’s law enforcement was…well, non-existent. But after a shooting like this, they’d surely have their hands full. Kriff, what if they had been killed? A shiver ran through your spine. There was a stranger at your door. Maybe they were hurt, or worse. You hadn't heard more noises. But the loud clank against the metal surface had been clear enough.
The decision to not be reckless won, and you called security from your holocom. But as you had expected, no one was responding. A low grunt came from the front door. You inhaled sharply.. They were in pain. What if they were some of your coworkers even?
You convinced yourself to bite the bullet and be brave about it. After the rebellion, you decided to not get involved in more conflicts. You had had enough for a lifetime. But there you were again. Laying against the wall in your nightie with your blaster against your chest.
“Hello?” No response. “Someone there?” Anything.
It felt a bit ridiculous to ask politely to a potential attacker. After stewing over for a while, you were determined to check yourself if there was actually someone at your doorstep. Inhaling sharply, you counted to three for yourself and opened the door at the same time you aimed your blaster with determination.
Another clank.
What the kriff.
You slowly lowered your blaster. There, laying on a puddle of his own blood, there was a huge man covered in armor.
“Hey, are you okay?” What a stupid question, of course he’s not. You started to get nervous. There was a lot of blood there. The stranger then said something but his voice was so weak you couldn’t hear him. Never stopping aiming your blaster towards him, you crouched next to his helmet. He repeated his words.
“My…kid…” Maker, there was a child in the shooting? You looked around yourself frantically, but in the dim light only your own lawn was visible.
“Where is he?”
“They…have taken him…” Something in his strained, modulated voice, broke your heart. You’d always had a soft spot about children.
“We’ll find your son. But you are bleeding out and no one is dying today at my doorstep.” You observed his frame and decided that the best was to drag him inside from his underarms. “I’m gonna get you inside, ok?”
He just hummed groggily and you decided to take that as a yes.
You had spoken too soon about dragging him. He was kriffing heavy and you had to use all your willpower to get him in your house. After one of the greatest physical efforts of your life, you finally laid him on your carpet and then sprinted to the bathroom to bring the med kit. Kneeling next to him, you tried to localize his wounds, but with the dark flight suit, it was almost impossible to know if he was bleeding somewhere. Your hands started shaking over the idea that maybe he was actually going to die on your floor. You grabbed your commlink to call the med center, starting to panic.
“I’m calling the med droid, I can’t help you.” You said to the unconscious man, worry drawing a line between your brows.
“No…droids.” You jumped when his gloved hand grabbed your wrist with surprising strength, but the next moment he was dropping it and looking gone for good. Okay, you weren’t the one to contradict the unknown warrior. Trying a different approach, you decided to guess where his injuries were by touch. Some drenched patches between his armor informed you where his major injuries were, so you cut his flight suit there. No time for undressing him.
The wounds looked like knife stabs after you cleaned them. You pressed both the one in his tight and another under his chest plate, to stop the bleeding and then applied bacta spray. But it wasn’t enough. He was growing colder every second and his heart rate was slowing. He was going to die, you realized.
You looked around you desperately trying to think when an idea came to mind. First, you started your stove as fast as lightning and then you chose your largest knife from the drawer. While anxiously looking at him, you put the knife on the flames and then ran to his side again.
“Sorry, this will probably hurt…” And before the knife became cold, you pressed the flat surface of the tool directly against his skin. The smell wasn’t beautiful and neither were his groans of pain, but at least it looked like he wasn’t waking up. You checked the wound and finally it had stopped bleeding. You cleaned the knife and repeated the process in the other stab. After several times, the tissue looked closed enough and only then you started to disinfect the burnt areas with care. They’ll leave nasty scars, but at least when you put your ear next to the helmet, it looked like he was breathing although shallowly.
It was almost dawn when you decided he was out of danger. Exhausted, you finally were able to remove his armor in order to drag him somewhere more comfortable and dress his wounds. It was hard to find the hidden mechanism, but once you got it you were fast. First you removed his heavy chest plate. Probably he’d breathe better without it, Then you put aside the pauldrons and the vambraces, and finally his side and back plates and ended with his legs.
Removing the sticky flight suit and his undershirt was an ordeal, but when the first of the two suns started to appear in the horizon, you had achieved the first part of your mission and his chest wound was fully dressed. While you were bandaging him you hadn’t noticed, but now under the orange light and having finished your task, you could admire the man you had saved. And maker, what a beautiful creature. His torso was strong while lean. You felt bad for the big scar the burn you would leave on his golden skin.
You resumed with his pants and you tried so hard not to look but you were just human and well, wasn’t he gifted there too. Tending to his thigh wounds you had noticed how thick his legs were, but now just down to his undergarments, you noticed the warrior’s actual strength.
You scolded yourself for lusting over the man who almost died in your carpet and was, probably, a criminal. And also a dad. When every wound was tended, you moved to his helmet. Since it had some kind of seal, you hadn’t lost precious time removing it when you couldn’t find the release button the first try. You trashed around the garment until you found said button, hearing a hiss, and put your hands around the helmet to carefully remove it.
The next thing you know is that you’re laying on your back, the warrior on you while he’s pinning your wrists effectively against the bloody carpet, his thick thighs keeping yours in place. You blinked, incredulously. Wasn’t this man on the verge of death? What the kriff?
“What do you think you’re doing?” His raspy, low baritone made you shiver. You should be scared, but your self-preservation instincts had abandoned you. IOn the surface of the T shaped visor, you could see your reflection. Rosy cheeks and doe eyes for the man that was threatening your life.
“Saving your metal ass.” You sassed, lifting your chin proudly. It looked like he wasn’t fully aware of himself since it took him half a minute to process the situation. He then started to release you slowly, but stil tense in mistrust. The skin where he had been grabbing you now felt cold. You looked at each other for what it felt like an eternity.
“M’ sorry.” He finally apologized sitting on his heels, noticing his bandages for the first time. Then he observed you, now on your elbows, your nightie ruined with his blood and purple eye bags under your beautiful eyes. “Did you do this?”
“The stabbing, no. The healing, yes.” You responded while looking for a comfier position on the floor, still on guard but curiosos about him.
“Thank you.” He said after a long silence. You finally released your breath.
“It's sloppy work, I’m afraid it will scar over ugly. Sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter. Thank you.” He repeated. He now looked disoriented , like a lost child. A 180 cm child. Oh wait.
“You…your child, you said someone took him.” He inhaled sharply and his tan shoulders tensed, your words hitting him like a thousand bricks. Then he tried to stand up but almost fell. You stood up fast enough to hold him before he could hurt himself. “Wait, you lost a lot of blood there.”
“I need to find him.” His voice was strained, like he was about to cry. You put his arm around your shoulders and he let you. It was like all the fight energy from before evaporated the moment you named the kid. The warrior’s skin felt warmer now, thanks to the Maker. You only hoped it didn’t become too warm due to infection. He was still heavy without his armor, and although he was making an effort, helping him lay on the sofa wasn’t easy.
“Look, you lost a ton of blood and have poor cauterized wounds from a random girl. You can’t find anyone in this condition.” You tried to not sound too harsh but the truth was there. “Don’t you have anyone you can call?”
He sat looking so defeated it broke your heart, but he finally nodded.
“That’s great, contact them then while I prepare some breakfast. You should hydrate and eat something.” He fixed his visor on you while you went to your room to change into something that wasn’t bloody and sheer to start with. When you returned, he was apparently speaking with a man. You gave him privacy while preparing some scrambled eggs, broth and fresh fruit, considering if you should call in sick to your job.
“They left you for dead, you have that advantage. They won’t expect you when you strike back .” Said the man in the holo. He was middle-aged and looked elegant. He then he spoke again in a kinder voice. “But you should focus on resting and healing now, Mando. Let us take care of it.”
“Thank you Karga, really.”
“Anything for the little one.” And then he hung up. The warrior put his head between his thighs, looking like the most miserable creature in the world. Your chest ached at the sight.
“Here, have some broth, you should hydrate. And probably have a transfusion too.” You half joked, sitting with the tray next to him. Mando, as you heard the bearded man call him, looked at you as if you were a ghost. You handled the tray to him carefully but he didn’t move at all. The longest and most uncomfortable silence went on until you decided to stand up and went to prepare for work.
“If you need to use the refresher, we have warm water here, not just that sonic excuse of a shower.” You started while sipping from your mug trying to look nonchalant. “I need to head to the observatory now, but you can stay as long as you need. That was such a beating you took.” You looked at the bruises that were forming across the golden skin you were desperately trying not to observe all the time. Both of the suns were up now, and they illuminated his frame beautifully. And the mess of dried blood in your floor and carpet, too.
You sighed. “Ok, I need to leave now, if you need anything…” You scribbled your commlink frequency in a holopad. It was strange how this looked as parting with a one night stand you won’t be seeing again. You had a certainty he wouldn't be there when you returned either.
“Thank you.” He finally acknowledged the tray and then nodded in your direction. Confused, injured and desolate, you felt guilty for leaving him there. But today was important since the planet you had been studying was the closest to Tatooine…You couldn’t miss the opportunity even though it felt so wrong.
“Take care, Mando.” You said before disappearing through the main door in a hurry.
Next chapter
#din djarin x f!reader#din djarin x y/n#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin x you#din djarin smut#din djarin x female reader#din djarin x reader#din djarin x plus size!reader#the mandalorian smut#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian x you#the mandalorian x y/n#droidwrites
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The Unknown Regions IV
A Din Djarin x Fem Plus Size Reader Fic
Summary: You, a soft astrophysicist, meet the hardened Mandalorian in less-than-ideal circumstances. Your abilities will lead to you crossing the galaxy together in search of his green son.
Read Chapter 1 | Read Chapter 2 | Read Chapter 3
This chapter is rated +18! Minors do not interact!
Warnings: Expect conversations about weight, body dysmorphia and internalised fatphobia that may be triggering, so read at your own discretion; reader is AFAB and user she/her pronouns; no use of y/n; smut; the bucket stays on; naked female clothed male; hurt and comfort; Sad Din :(
Word count: 3,745
A/N: Din and you have a misunderstanding and actually talk openly about it like ADULTS! I love fiction!!! Finally, smut is here dear readers, I hope you enjoy it. I've struggled like crazy to write this chapter bc smut felt forced and I wanted a smoooth transition. I am not super happy with the result, but hey, I need to know when to let go. I've been thinking this would be interesting from Din's pov too, lemme know what you think. And yes, I know I don't respond to any comments I love reading them but anxiety kills me when I hit reply! I'm so sorry!!!
🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐
You were so focused on your calculations that you didn't notice Din observing you. Leaning against the doorframe casually, the bounty hunter had his gaze fixated on you. He was stealthy for such a big man, so when his gloved hand gently touched your shoulder your heart skipped a beat.
“¡Mando!” You jumped from your seat. He immediately retrieved his touch as if he had been burnt.
“Sorry I…I didn't want to startle you.”
He looked so uncomfortable right now you felt bad for him. Well, had seemed uncomfortable around you for the two weeks you had been travelling together, so that wasn’t new. You were sure your presence around the ship had prevented him from relaxing at all. It was normal, its size had you clashing with each other all the time and it didn’t provide any privacy. And the Razor Crest, you have learnt, was also his home. Well, his and Grogu's.
He told you about the little one a night he was being especially silent. The moon you had stopped at looked inhabited and arid. He commented it was similar to Arvala-7, the planet where he found the child. After that, you listened while he spoke about how he met his son. His beautiful voice was full of pain and you ended up offering your hand for relief and support. He was hesitant but ended up accepting your warm touch.
Since then, casual physical contact had been a constant between you. With the days passing, you grew bolder with it, no longer squishing yourself to prevent your bodies from touching in the tight space of the Crest, and more like rubbing your plush body against his armour. A friendly hand on his shoulder, his on the small of your back. Therere were brief moments that made your heart flutter at the contact.
The truth was that living together had only made your initial attraction to him grow: observing such a mighty warrior performing the little tasks of day-to-day life was somewhat endearing. The things you could learn about someone just by looking at them at their little routines were incredible. You realized he was a methodical, goal-oriented man, and although he looked serious he did things like speaking with his ship when you wouldn't notice. He was also very caring, not only about Grogu but also his covert, the name he used to refer to the other Mandalorians he lived among. And he had the highest respect for his culture and his creed, something you really admired about him. Every day, you hoped he admired you back, too.
“Don’t worry about it, I tend to become so self-absorbed when I work I forget my surroundings.” You fidgeted nervously with your hair, feeling the burn of his gaze, until his visor shifted to the nav system. “Oh, I calculated the coordinates for the final jump and double-checked them. It’ll take around 30 standard hours to arrive there.”
Since you were travelling towards uncharted space, you couldn’t just jump to the planet, even though you knew the coordinates it was reckless without knowing the obstacles you could possibly meet, so it was more sensible to do it on shorter jumps.
“Let me check.” Mando leaned towards the console, supporting himself in his strong arms. You hoped your gasp at his sudden closeness wasn’t too audible.
“Are you doubting my calculations?” You meant to sound sassy but your voice came shaky. He was too close, hovering over you while checking the route. If your body wasn’t covered due to the cold of outer space, he could have noticed the goosebumps his proximity provoked.
“You can't drive a ship.” He deadpanned. You didn't feel bad about his affirmation, it was a fact. You had never had the opportunity to learn.
“I know my numbers, Mando.” You retorted, confident in your ability. He stared at you while you tried to remain unbothered. The truth was that the banter and his physical closeness had you a little flushed. His gaze finally left you to resume checking the panel and you rolled your eyes, although you understood his doubts. After all, his child and his ship were at stake
“This is flawless.” He admitted after a while, turning his helmet to you again.”Good job.” You opened your eyes widely at the praise and observed his muscular frame towering over you. His beskar looked beautiful, reflecting the starry space. He looked beautiful.
“I’m happy to help in any way I can.” You responded in a small voice, swallowing hard.
Neither of you moved for a while and you sighed involuntarily. With how close you were, you could just lean on him as you had been longing to do. To be embraced by his big arms. He sighed, his visor not leaving your frame. You wondered if he felt the pull too. He had to. The magnetic field was just too strong.
“Mando…” He shifted his position, coming even closer to you. You could observe your doe-eyed reflection in his Beskar helmet. He raised his gloved hand and reached for your round shoulder again. This time his touch was gentler than ever and his orange thumb caressed your clothed skin. Mouth dry, you wondered what would his next step be.
“I need…my seat to make the jump.”
The spell broke. Your brain was not computing. You swore you could die right there from the embarrassment. Of course, you were sitting on the pilot's chair. He only wanted your fat ass to move. And you thought you were having a moment. What an idiot, fantasizing about embracing him or whatever, when he only wanted to resume the trip to get to his son as soon as possible.
Clumsily, you stood up, your face hot with embarrassment. Inevitably, your bodies rubbed in the tiny space. You were a big woman, he was practically on you and the cockpit wasn’t precisely ample.
“Of course.”
The feeling was all-consuming and you rushed towards the sliding door, abandoning the cockpit in a heartbeat. You couldn’t see how a very confused Mando observed you leaving, asking himself how he had offended you.
Tears of embarrassment stained your cheeks when you managed to curl inside the bunk. Mando had been so kind to let you sleep there, and you had been loving it. The first night you couldn't help yourself and used your fingers to make you cum three times. His masculine fragrance was everywhere. It was like being embraced by him and your imagination was an overactive one.
But now, having his scent kriffing everywhere wasn’t helping to deflect the feeling of rejection that had taken you. Why were you being like this? Of course, it wasn’t the first time you were turned down. Or the tenth. By now, you should be used to it. But nevertheless, it hurt a lot.
All your life, you were always the clever, bright friend. The daughter who didn’t cause trouble. The gentle and caring one. But you were never called beautiful. Even by your romantic partners. They may say things about how they loved your “fat ass” or “big tits” but this didn’t make you feel pretty but just objectified, and especially, not truly seen as a sentient being. The worst of your male companions even complained about your size and how they weren’t able to manhandle you as they would have done with a smaller woman. You knew this was rooted in their deepest insecurities and how being perceived as smaller than their partner affected their self-esteem... But what about yours?
The truth was that Mando’s gesture (or lack of it) hadn’t been so hurtful, but the stream of memories it triggered, and now you found yourself sobbing under his sheets. When you felt the familiar blow of entering hyperspace, you only hoped that he remained in the cockpit and let you hide for the rest of the trip. But he didn’t.
First, you heard the familiar footsteps coming down from the ladder. He cleared his throat and then knocked softly at the bunk's door. Your blood froze.
“Hey I'm…I'm sorry.” You could clearly hear these weren't words he said often or lightly. A knot formed in your stomach but the tears stopped.
“It 's okay.” You responded with a raspy voice from the crying.
“No, I shouldn't have doubted your route. You're the professional.”
You couldn't decide between bursting into laughter or crying again. He was clueless, wasn't he? Maybe you could just roll with that and hide your true feelings. It was a good opportunity and it’ll save you from an uncomfortable moment. But you weren't the kind of person to do that.
“Mando, do you really think I'm mad because of that?” A pensive hum was his only response.
The bunk's door opened and a very confused warrior appeared right in front of you. Your eyes were red but your smile was bright. You felt your heart hammering inside your chest. He looked so helpless, all his self-assurance gone because of your tears. You sighed, gathering the courage to speak.
“In the cockpit, there was a moment when you were very close to me...” Mando immediately stiffened.
“I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable because of that. I thought…” His voice was strained through the modulator. You shook your head.
“I'm the one who misunderstood the situation, Mando.” You stared at him but it was clear his metal head wasn't computing. “ You were almost all over me. I thought something was going to happen. Between us.” You had to clarify.
The gears inside the helmet started turning and finally, you could see those broad shoulders relax a bit.
“You expected…you wanted something to happen between us?” He asked using your own words. You bit your lip unsure, but you were already too far gone to stop this.
“Yes Mando, I really like you and what happened in the cockpit made me feel rejected. That's why I was mad.” This time you tried to explain yourself clearly as you didn't want more misunderstandings, even though your skin felt like molten lava. Mando remained silent for a while, shifting his weight and finally took a step towards the bunk, putting a hand against the frame of the door.
“Why would I reject you?”
“What?” It wasn't possible you had heard that right.
“You've understood me perfectly.” His voice turned darker and commanding. You swallowed at the sudden change of demeanour.
“I don't know. Many have rejected me before. It made sense.” You felt vulnerable and hugged your knees trying to appear smaller unconsciously. Opening up about your fear of rejection wasn't in your plans today. “Where I come from, being overweight is frowned upon.” You added in a small voice, ashamed of your feelings.
“Di’kute!” He grunted the foreign word, audibly angry. To your surprise, he sat next to you inside the cot and grabbed your hand. “You're a gorgeous woman, mesh’la. They were bantha fodder if they couldn't appreciate you.”
It may have been your already sensitive state, but tears came again to you. His faceless stare burnt you, as well as his body heat inside the tiny space. But he continued with the praise without letting go of your hand.
“Where I come from fat is a good signal. It means health, and strength. Extra padding in battle.” You giggled but he was serious. “It's synonymous with peace and not living off ration bars. It means giving birth to healthy younglings.” He added the last point in a raspier voice and you stopped breathing thinking about the meaning behind those words.
“Mando…”
“Come here mesh’la.” You didn't recognise the last word but obeyed and the next moment you were in his lap. “Can I touch you?” His voice sounded kinder this time, less commanding. Your heart was going to explode.
“Please.”
And then his hands were all over you. Tracing the outline of your curves, grabbing the supple flesh of your tights, grazing over your generous bust. The touch was so intoxicating, passionate but slow, as if he wanted desperately to memorize your shape.
“Your body is precious, I'll put a hole between the eyes of whoever made you feel the opposite.” You had never felt aroused by violence, but Mando's voice whispering that in your ear made things to you. It felt so hot inside the bunk by then you felt the necessity to get rid of your clothing. Nevertheless, in spite of Mando's praise, you doubted when you grabbed the hem of your tunic. He sensed your hesitancy. “Are you gonna show me that beautiful armour padding?”
You giggled, amused by how playful he became in bed, and finally removed the piece of clothing. His sharp breath was everything you needed to hear.
“Like what you see Mando?” You teased, discarding the tunic and feeling a bit more confident because of his reaction. While he was a victim of a momentary paralysis, you took your chance to caress his biceps where any armour protected his skin. He was as hard as Beskar there and you thought this warrior could be the first to actually manhandle you. That thought only contributed to the heat growing in your centre dangerously.
“Dank Farrik I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off you after this.” His voice sounded pained behind the vocoder while he appreciated your soft body.
“Then don’t.” You coed, and then guided his hands to your breasts that were spilling from your bra dangerously. Mando exhaled loudly as if all the tension he had been holding the last weeks was released. His gloved thumbs found your nipples fast, the stiff material feeling so good against your sensitive peaks. “Don’t be afraid, you can be rougher with them.”
Mando actually moaned at your honeyed words and you couldn’t name a more heavenly sound. He explored your tits with devotion, giving them all the attention in the world until your nipples couldn’t be harder and your breathing more agitated. But then, after some time hovering over his legs, yours started to feel numb from sustaining the position so you had to move a bit to feel your muscles again.
“Sorry, my legs went numb.” You excused yourself, but in a heartbeat, his hands shifted to your plush hips and you got the hint.
“Sit.”
“I’ll crush you.” Looking away, your previous self-confidence cracked a bit after his petition. You were too heavy, he will be uncomfortable and then…
“I carry bounties three times my weight for a living.” With the cocky affirmation, he interrupted your racing thoughts before spiralling. “I’ll be okay.”
You haven’t seen him in action yet, but the image of the Mandalorian manoeuvring a bounty out of pure strength made you shiver, yielding to his command. But you wouldn’t drown without dragging him with you.
“Stars woman!” He grunted when your clothed cunt made contact with his bulge. Not satisfied enough with that, you rolled your hips a couple of times to torture him further. Your plan backfired, as it provoked both of you to moan in unison.
“You wanted me…to sit.” You sassed between laboured breaths. Mando growled in response, but his hands travelled to your behind until they were grabbing a handful of your round ass.
“Do you know where else I’d want you to sit?” His voice was raspier than ever, the desire on it crystal clear to you. He really wanted you.
“Mando!” This playful side of him was unexpected but you were loving every moment of it. He took advantage of his leverage to move you impossibly closer to him, making you squirm when your sensitive nipples touched the colder beskar of his cuirass. Your hands snaked around his thick neck and you found yourself completely squished against your huge warrior. His erection felt so hot and hard between your legs that your cunt only grew wetter and wetter, making you wonder if he could notice. Then he started to move and soon you were moaning in the crook of his neck, grinding like a loth-cat in heat.
“Please mesh’la, let me make you feel as good as you deserve.” All the cockiness of his tone was done when he asked you with the most laboured breathing. His hands started caressing your spine and back rolls and you were a puddle in his strong arms.
“Let me…let me get up to remove my pants.” He indeed let you, but his hands didn´t, and while you stood to remove the last of your clothes, he continued exploring your body completely mesmerized. “Mando, I can’t undress if you don’t put your hands away!” You giggled standing on the threshold of the bunk waiting for him to realize. His helmet turned up to look at you then as if he was weighing his possibilities.
“Allow me to undress you, please.” The tone of his plead made you shiver and your cunt walls spasm. Your noded suddenly shy and the next moment he was on his knees unfastening your boots. Maker, what a sight.
When he finished with your footwear, he removed your shocks and started caressing your ankles, going up your calves painfully slowly until he finally reached the waistband of your pants. By then, you were shivering out of pure anticipation. But he still took the time to discard first your pants leaving you in your soaked underwear. He stopped and removed his hands for you to your surprise. Maybe he was having second thoughts? Maybe he didn’t like what he saw?
Your thoughts didn’t spiral for long, as Mando started removing his gloves still kneeling at your feet. Your eyes went wide: it was the first time you saw any of his skin. Gloves finally apart, you could appreciate it was a beautiful hue of gold before his thumbs were hooked in your panties. Without seeing his expression, you could feel the reverence in every touch Of his. It was like you were something holy and he was praying at your shrine. Then it hit you: this wasn’t just a fuck for both of you. This will change things.
“You’re drenched mesh’la.” The last piece of clothing was finally removed and his curious hands didn’t take long to open the folds of your glistening cunt. You looked away a bit embarrassed but he assured you. “You’re so beautiful and soft I can't help myself but...”
Then he did the most surprising thing. With his fingers covered with your slick, he went to the inferior part of his helmet and made disappear. He yas kriffing tasting you.
“Dank Farrik and you taste heavenly too.” Things became fast in a moment. He suddenly stood up in all his imposing height, totally covered in contrast with your nakedness, grabbed your but and in a heartbeat was lifting you from the floor. You squirmed in surprise, your legs rapidly snaking around his tapered waist, feeling all the whole glory of his erection against your pussy. He then turned in his heels and laid you in his bed delicately. But you weren’t playing tame anymore.
“Mando, I need you please.” Your plea was accompanied by a roll of your hips against the bulge on his pants, and you moaned at the sensation of the harsh fabric against the sensitive skin there. Mando grunted at the contact and obeyed you, removing his crossbody ammo belt. You continued the grinding while he battled with the straps of his hip belt, pleasuring yourself against his hard cock, until the leather piece full of pouches hit the ground with a loud thud.
Finally, his hot hands were all over you again and he leaned over your body. But then, he froze in place. You looked at him quizzically when you heard something metallic rolling on the floor. Maybe something important? Maker, you knew he kept bombs on the belt…
“Wait,” he said, leaving you naked in the bunk where you experienced the worst ten seconds of your life thinking you were going to be blown away before having sex with the Mandalorian. But his absence was brief, and he returned with a spherical object between his golden fingers. Something you didn’t recognize at all.
“Is it a bomb?” You asked clueless. He chucked but there was something off about it.
“It’s from a lever in the cockpit.” You sighed in relief knowing your life or his weren’t in danger. Noticing how he wouldn’t stop looking at the metal ball, you knew he wasn’t okay. Finding your tuning between the mess of sheets and blankets, you put it on and sat on the edge of the cot. You didn’t feel annoyed because the intimate moment was interrupted: it was clear something was disturbing him.
“Hey, Mando, look at me.” You asked, holding his bare wrists most delicately. He flinched at the contact and you noticed his pulse was derailed. Then he looked at you like he had just noticed you were there and started apologising.
“I’m so sorry I…” It looked like he didn’t even know how to start explaining himself. You’ll say he sounded even embarrassed.
“It’s okay, I’m not upset. We don’t have to continue if you don’t feel like it.” His shoulders slumped and his gaze fixated again on the ball. And then you noticed, by the light shivering of his torso. He was crying. Your heart broke in a thousand pieces. “Come here, baby.” You cooed, opening your arms to the Mandalorian, hoping you could offer some relief to whatever he was experiencing.
To your surprise, he fell to his knees again and then sank his helmet into your lap. His shoulders were convulsing more visibly now and your chest hurt for him. You started caressing the back of his neck, hoping it felt soothing for him, and remained like that for a while.
“I’ve got you baby.”
You didn’t know how much time it passed with Mando sobbing against your tunic and you doing your best to make him feel better, but after a while, it looked like he was calmer.
“I already lost him once.” His voice was coarse from crying, and even though the lack of context you knew immediately he was referring to Grogu.
“We’ll find him and take him home, Mando.” You responded softly, feeling something warm spread inside you and not stopping for a second your caresses.
“Din.” He finally unburied his head from your lap and looked at you. “My name is Din Djarin.”
#din djarin#din djarin x you#din djarin x reader#the mandalorian#grogu#din grogu#the mandalorian x you#din djarin smut#the mandalorian smut#the mandalorian fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fandom#din djarin x female reader#din djarin x fem!reader#droidwrites
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Melting Point Masterlist
A Sculptor Din Djarin x Art PhD Reader Series
Summary: You're a first-year PhD at The University of Nevarro specialising in Mandalorian Art. When your favourite sculptor, the mysterious Mando, opens an art exhibition in the city, you're the first one to enrol. Unexpectedly, attending to that opening would end up changing your life forever.
Warnings: This is a slow burn, you've been warned!; a lot of talking about Art and PhD life; Reader is not Grogu's nanny but this is very Grogucentric if that makes sense; And Reader is Din's employee too; Very grumpy and antisocial Mando; Grogu is human but the only thing described are his eyes; Reader appearance is left blank except from the outfits; Age gap of 10-15 years;
A/N: This fic was absolutely inspired by that scene in Season 2 when Din is welding his ship in the ice planet Maldo Kreis. My brain went immediately into overdrive: hot man welding. And this is how this fic was born, but then the curse of the plot came to me and I have to brag about everything Fine Art has taught me. Mandalorian culture is super interesting from the point of view of the arts and iconography, and I couldn't resist writing this AU. I really hope you find it interesting!
Teaser
Prologue: Malleable/The Merchant
Chapter I: Metallike/The Artist
Chapter II: Temper/The Sculptor
Chapter III: Yield Strength/The Father
Chapter IV
And more...
#din djarin#din djarin x you#din djarin x reader#din djarin fanfiction#din grogu#grogu#baby grogu#clan mudhorn#clan of two#the mandalorian fanfiction#din djarin x female reader#din djarin x fem!reader#droidwrites#modern au din djarin#modern din djarin#pedro pascal characters#pedro boys#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal#sculptor din djarin
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Sweet Potato
Modern AU Firefighter Din Djarin x GN!Reder
Summary: You move to your new apartment and meet your new neighbours.
Warnings: Fluff!!!, Meet Cute Trope, Gender Neutral Reader, no y/n, Mentions of food and eating, This is literally the most SFW piece I’ve written ever, Good Dad Din Djarin!!!, But also stressed!
Words: 1336
A/N: This is just a little one shot for you to enjoy as I enjoy sweet potato! I wrote it to celebrate I’m getting my own place finally, one step further from my abusive family, so this is practically autobiographical lol. Anyway, life has been hectic and I felt a little blocked with The Unknown Regions IV, since smut is coming and I want it to feel natural between Din and Reader, but things are finally flowing. Let me know if you like this little self-indulgent piece! The lovely dividers are from @saradika by the way!!!
Edit: I added a moodboard hehehe
You had just moved to your new apartment on the outskirts of the city. Aspiring to be a cosmopolitan girl all your life, you had finally surrendered to your true nature: you craved a quiet existence. Luckily, after some searching your friend Martha had made you an offer you couldn't reject. She'd lend her spare flat to you at an affordable price if you could keep an eye on her grandma, who lived next door. The woman was a kind, sassy 80-year-old lady and you adored her, so it was a win-win situation for you.
After a busy day of moving boxes around with the help of your friends, you (and your plants) were finally settled. With a content sigh, you collapsed on the sofa, looking at the strip of blue sea that was visible from your new balcony. You smiled toothyly, proud of yourself. Finally, you broke free from your family and achieved having your own space.
The morning after you were sitting in your elder neighbour's kitchen with a warm cup of coffee between your hands. Violet, that was her name, was delighted with having you there. She had shown you all the pictures of her grandkids before breakfast and now you were chatting about which plants you could add to your new house.
“Let me give you a piece of this one, if you put it in water, the roots will be out in a week.”
You grabbed the tiny branch and tucked it in carefully.
“I have something for you too!” From inside your tote bag, you took out a paper bag that contained Violet's favorite sweet potato pie. Her face lightened up and she took one serving. But just when she was going to have the first bite, someone knocked on the door. Who could be this early in the morning?
“Oh, maybe it's Din,” Violet said casually and started standing up from the chair. You had no idea who that was but followed her to the door. People trying to scam the elderly had been sadly a common thing in the previous months.
“Good morning sweetheart!” She greeted them when the door was finally opened, and someone responded with the cutest coo. A kid? You couldn't see anything, since the old lady had the entrance only half opened.
“Morning Violet.” That was the most beautiful baritone voice you had ever heard. “Grogu, be polite, that's her pie.”
“There's more inside if he wants one.” You poked from behind your friend's white locks with a friendly smile and finally met with the stranger's eyes. And what a beautiful pair of eyes. His chocolate irises went from Violet to you alternatively and his brows frowned with a silent question. Din knew you weren't her grandkid and was aware of scammers too. Who were you?
“This is our new neighbor, Martha's friend. Just moved in yesterday.” The lady introduced you to Din and the man relaxed a bit, but you were more tense than ever. He was like a dream. Lean and muscular, tattooed arms and the softest looking face. You could sense his gaze scanning you, as if evaluating if you were a threat or not when something grabbed the hem of your clothes.
“Eh?” The biggest pair of eyes returned your look from the floor and you felt you were gonna die from the cuteness.
“Hello little man, are you here for your pie?” The child cooed enthusiastically and Din sighed in defeat. You crouched to be closer to the kid's height, dumbfounded by the little one. He chirped, visibly delighted, but then looked at the older man for approval. Violet was laughing softly at the scene, knowing how much Grogu enjoyed food.
“I'm sorry to interrupt your breakfast,” Din said, shifting his weight while looking at how you made funny faces to the kid. “The fire station just called, there's a big emergency, I'm on duty and they need backup and…”
“Of course, he can stay with us!” Violet interrupted with a dismissive gesture and Din's shoulders visibly relaxed. The kid looked delighted at the prospect and made grabby hands to be picked up by you. You indulged in his petition, obviously.
“Thank you so much, Violet, I'll compensate you.” Din looked at the kid in your arms still hesitant. You were a total stranger but he looked like Grogu already trusted you. And you were Violet's friend too.
“I have a lot of experience with kids, I'll take care of him as my own.” Your kind face convinced him and finally Din nodded. Then, to your surprise, he touched his forehead with Grogu's and he was suddenly so close you could smell his shampoo and the aftershave he used to keep that nice mustache.
“Be polite with them kid.” Grogu giggled and grabbed Din's face with his claws in a sweet embrace. Your heart melted at the tender gesture. It was clear they loved each other a lot, even though you didn't know if they were related or not.
“He's an angel,” Violet responded, caressing the kid's fuzzy head. “But I need you to do something in exchange for keeping an eye on him, son.”
“Whatever you need Violet,” Din responded surprised. The old woman grinned mischievously and then went inside the house. Grogu then surprised yourself to death jumping to the floor and following her.
“Does he…make that a lot?” You asked Din, confused about how such a small kid could manage that jump. Now alone with his caretaker, you felt your nerves growing in your belly. He was handsome and also imposing.
“You can't imagine.” He rolled his eyes and let a tired sigh escape his plump lips and you laughed. It was going to be an interesting day in Grogu's company. “It's so kind of you to visit Violet.” He declared after a short silence. You looked at him wondering what he was referring to. “She's been so lonely since her husband's illness. It's sweet.” He added the last phrase almost muttering and without looking at you. So the big man was shy.
“I enjoy her company, I'm glad we are neighbors now and we can hang out more often.” You offered him a wide, sincere smile.
“I'm glad too.” He responded after licking his lips, his big brown eyes now fixated on yours.
“Here you have, you weren't gonna leave without some sweet potato pie!” You didn't notice when Violet had returned, that's how distracted you were with the new neighbor. She had packed some of the pie you had baked for her and now was handing it to Din in a container. You observed that Grogu was already having his fill, stuffing his little mouth while grabbing the lady's skirt.
For the first time, you saw him smile. The warmth of his expression was contagious and you noticed the cute dimple in his cheek.
“This was the condition to take care of Grogu?” He said accepting the gift.
“Exactly. I'm sure you haven't had breakfast. Am I wrong?” Din looked somewhere else in shame, totally guilty. “And I love the pie, but this time she has baked too much to my poor sugar levels, sorry sweetie.” She apologized but then winked at you. What was she plotting?
“You baked it? That's incredible.” Now your face was red and you started to pick what Violet's intentions were. “Grogu seems to love the pie.” The kid cooed agreeing, his tiny clothes covered in crumbs. He was too adorable to be true.
Din's phone interrupted the conversation and with a concerned look, he gestured to the stairs. Violet just told him to leave with her and Grogu and you waved at the firefighter. You then crouched again to speak to the toddler.
“Let's go, little man, we're having lots of fun.” And you did, indeed.
That day in the fire station, everyone had a bite of your delicious sweet potato pie, and Din was forced to talk about the new lovely neighbour who had baked it. They wouldn’t stop teasing, but all he could think was in seeing you again, the sweet potato neighbour.
#din djarin#the mandalorian#din djarin x you#din djarin x reader#din djarin fic#din djarin x gn!reader#din grogu#grogu#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian fanfiction#din djarin fanfiction#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fandom#droidwrites
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The Unknown Regions II
A Din Djarin x Fem Plus Size Reader Fic
Summary: You, a soft astrophysicist, meet the hardened Mandalorian in less-than-ideal circumstances.
Read Chapter 1 | Read Chapter 3
Warnings: Expect conversations about weight, body dysmorphia and internalised fatphobia that may be triggering, so read at your own discretion; injuries and blood; canon typical violence; reader is AFAB and user she/her pronouns; no use of y/n; smut to come in next chapters; porn with plot; plot with porn; Din Djarin need a hug and a fuck.
Word count: 1,392
A/N: This is a shorter chapter where we learn a bit more about your job (watch me make up things about astronomy lol), which will be handy for our little adventure with Din. The hot speeder bike ride was 100% inspired by @djarins-cyare fic, Be-All and Endor! This fic is just everything I could ask, just so detailed and thorough, I really recommend it to you! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, sorry if Mando is too gruff but I try to keep him in character, don’t worry, he’ll warm up later. ;)
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You went through your notes again, looking for the data you had gathered previously. If your calculations were correct, you were one step closer to mapping the Unknown Regions. Studying the orbit of this planet had been a difficult assignment. It seemed to elude you every time you were close. But today, you could say that finally, its coordinates were finally revealed. Jumping from your desk, you rushed to discuss your discoveries with your supervisor.
The older, Rodian female, was working on gathering the info the radio antennas were providing. The purpose of the observatory, funded by the New Republic, was to map the mysterious regions beyond the Outer Rim, popularly known as Wild Space. In the year since its foundation, your team had located the system you were currently studying and successfully calculated the orbits and characteristics of its two stars.
Your Rodian supervisor, Dr. Vala, took her time to look through all the data you'd gathered after inserting the disk into her computer. You shifted your weight and played with your hands nervously.
"It looks like everything makes sense." She said after a while, smiling at you proudly. “I’ll discuss sending the first space probe with the engineering team in the next meeting.”
You mirrored her expression feeling a bit shy, but the truth was that you were over the moon. Receiving praise from someone like Dr. Vala couldn't be taken for granted, and the prospect of having a probe sent to the planet you were studying was exciting. All your dreams were coming true. This would be the best day of your life if the pressing matter of the bleeding Mandalorian wasn’t making you kriffing anxious.
“Would you mind if I left early today, Doctor? I haven’t been feeling very well.”
Dr. Vala sent you home immediately, knowing how you had been overworking yourself. You thanked her and after gathering your possessions went to the hangar where one of the landspeeders that transported the workers from the compound was parked. After providing the droid with your employee code, the vehicle started the trip. The ball of anxiety that had been growing in your belly grew with every klick of desert you covered. He probably had left already and you were worrying for nothing like an idiot. But what if?
You arrived at home covered in sand and rapidly discarded the goggles and cape that you used for protection. Entering the main room cautiously, you didn’t notice you were holding your breath.
“Mando? Are you still there?” You asked in a small voice.”I brought food and medical supplies…” The bag against your hip was full of some rations and medicine you managed to grab from your workplace before leaving. A mix of fear and excitement was boiling inside of you, hoping that he hadn’t left. You advanced two more steps when something very shiny dazzled your eyes. Confused, you brought your hand to your face in pain.
“Uh…sorry.” A gruff voice apologized from the main room.”I was about to leave…”
Your heart jumped inside of your chest. He sounded exhausted and sad but it was better than before you left. The bright light moved and then you could see the source of it. The warrior, in his full, polished armor, was reflecting the light from Tatooine’s twin suns like a star. It was such a beautiful scene to look at. He was standing there like an ancient statue finishing with placing one of his pauldrons. You swallowed hard. Was this man the same person that bled out on your carpet?
“Are you feeling better?” You asked fidgeting with the end of your sleeve. It looked like you were the guest and this was his house instead of yours. Your eyes couldn’t stop registering every detail of his appearance, from his width to how well that ammo belt hugged his hips. Maker, you were in need of a good lay.
He just nodded and then approached you. You could smell your soap and his characteristic scent under it. He then grabbed your hand with his gloved one and blood rushed to your cheeks. The sound of credits took you out of your trance.
“The carpet.” It was the only explanation he provided, and when he noticed that you weren’t moving, he squeezed himself between you and the doorframe.
What was the problem with this man?
“Wait!” You managed to unfreeze and catch him before he actually left. Even though he tried to hide it, his limp was obvious. He didn’t turn but stopped walking. “We’re in the middle of nowhere and I haven’t seen any ships close.” The question floated in the dry air, and you could see how his shoulders dropped infinitesimally.
“It won’t be the first time I walk through this desert.” He responded cockily and shifted his weight, this time turning the helmet slightly to you.
You rolled your eyes and sighed, and then grabbed your goggles and cape again.
“Come on, I have my speeder bike in the compound’s hangar.” He fully turned to face you then, tilting his head to one side, probably balancing his options. “You want to find your son, don't you? Well, you won’t be of any use to him bleeding dry among the dunes.” Now it was his turn to sigh. He surrendered to your offer, nodding in response. You smiled and closed the door, having already put on your gear plus your little blaster. Everybody knew that venturing to the desert unarmed was insane.
The warrior followed you obediently to the hangar, where you provided your credentials to the security team to open the gates for you.
“I haven't asked you, is it okay if I call you Mando? I accidentally heard the man from the holo doing it, I’m sorry.” You asked while you put your riding gloves on. Riding was something you loved, and it was important for you to keep the bike and your accessories in good shape, so your speeder was in perfect condition for the trip through the dunes. You climbed its leather seat and sat comfortably. He just stood there like a statue. “I wanted to apologize too for trying to remove your helmet.”
“No offense taken.” He responded after flexing his gloved hand a couple of times. He looked kriffing tense, but you would too in his situation. You smiled in relief and put your helmet on. He took the cue and sat behind you. To anyone watching the scene, it had to look ridiculous as hell, but the only thing in your head was how Mando felt behind you and how you were going to focus on driving. You swallowed and started the bike, maneuvering it outside of the hangar.
“Where are we headed?” You asked, trying to sound confident. Mando looked like he hadn’t made a decision about the best place for his hands.
“Mos Eisley, Hangar 3-5.” He provided, and you thanked your past self for the food you had stolen from your workplace. That would make a long ride. You inserted the city’s coordinates in the nav computer and placed your boot on the accelerator. But your copilot still looked hesitant about where to get a hold of.
You sighed exasperated and in a bold move, you took a grip of his hands and put them around your waist. It was notorious how Mando went rigid instantly as if he had been struck by a bolt. Kark, he looked like a seasoned warrior, why would he be so tense about sharing a speeder bike with a woman? Nevertheless, you were no seasoned anything so you allowed yourself to be flustered when he finally grabbed your waist with determination. It was only a second that the malignant thought of how he’d find your soft curves disgusting. Your waist wasn’t tiny by any means, and in this position your belly flexed forming some rolls. You were flustered now but for other motives.
But Mando’s huge hand just grabbed you tighter and with a confidence that had been absent before, making you jump in your seat.
“Are you…are you comfortable like this?” He asked unexpectedly in a gentle voice. You clenched your hands around the bike handles, making the leather of the gloves crack.
“Yes, just hold tight.” And oh Maker, that grip would have you daydreaming for the whole journey.
Next Chapter
#din djarin#the mandalorian#din djarin x you#din djarin x female reader#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin x f!reader#din djarin x plus size!reader#din djarin x reader#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian x you#the mandalorian x y/n#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fandom#droidwrites
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The Unknown Regions III
A Din Djarin x Fem Plus Size Reader Fic
Summary: You, a soft astrophysicist, meet the hardened Mandalorian in less-than-ideal circumstances. Your abilities will lead to you crossing the galaxy together in search of his green son.
Read Chapter 1 | Read Chapter 2
Warnings: Expect conversations about weight, body dysmorphia and internalised fatphobia that may be triggering, so read at your own discretion; injuries and blood; canon typical violence; reader is AFAB and user she/her pronouns; no use of y/n; smut to come in next chapters; porn with plot; plot with porn; Din Djarin need a hug and a fuck.
Word count: 2,777
A/N: Forget reader for not knowing anything about Mandalorians, let's just pretend she was just so focused studying the planets! In my head she's an Inner Rim girlie too, so not much info about Mandos reaching her planet there, I hope you enjoy going inside Din`s mind for a while! I hope it doesn't feels too off since going inside the tin can brain is a lot of guess work hehe. Anyways, I love you so much for reading this and value a LOT your comments, it's very difficult for me to respond to them but I do my best to overcome the anxiety.
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“We need to stop.”
The sound of your voice over the speeder’s motor startled Din. He had just achieved not being aware of every part of his body touching yours when you spoke in your beautiful tone. You both had been traveling across the desert for a while now, in that time not a soul crossed your path. The truth was that you were a good driver, and Din could have even relaxed if he wasn’t so preoccupied with Grogu´s whereabouts. He was confident about the little boy`s abilities and also sure that Karga was moving Heaven and Earth to find his child. But he wouldn´t rest until his thumb was again between his claws.
Din had another pressing problem too. And it was you. He had been actively trying to fight his arousal during your ride. Dank Farrik, it was taking all of his discipline to stop his hips from moving as close to yours as he desired. But you were a sweet, good-hearted woman who was helping him selflessly and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by any means. He would have to restrain himself just a little more.
“What?” He managed to ask after a moment. You turned a bit in your seat, confident that any obstacle was in sight, and he could admire your profile against Tatooine’s sunset.
“Your bandages, it’s been a while, we have to change them.” Din swallowed thinking about what he remembered as a fever dream: last night, your soft hands over his naked torso trying desperately to keep him alive. He shivered at the only thought of being touched with such delicacy again. He didn´t want to stop nevertheless, he wanted to be as soon as possible inside the Crest, ready to fly wherever Grogu was.
“It’s getting cold, too,” You said, thinking that his shiver was related to the temperature. “If we are fast, I think we’ll arrive by nightfall.” A silence went by while he weighed his options, but then remembered what you said about not being useful to his son if the was septic. He sighed heavily.
“Okay.”
The spot where you decided to stop was a bit more hidden than the open dunes. Din didn’t want to have any surprises while he was vulnerable, even though he would remain vigilant all the time. He’d do the treatment himself if the nasty burn wasn’t in the most awkward place across his side. It looked like he’d need to rely on you once more. And wasn´t he enjoying that secretly?
“I’m sorry for burning you.” You were on your knees while he rested against a rock, medical supplies on display across your lap. He observed your guilty expression, beautiful brows curving downwards in a cute frown.
“You saved my life.” He offered, stopping for a second the process of removing his armor. It was a moment of silence where you two just stared at each other until he resumed working on his padded vest.
When he was bare (his undershirt had ended useless after having to cut through it), you couldn’t hold a heavy sigh that Din noticed. He caught your gaze on him and felt exposed, not used to being seen even without his cuirass. It looked like you felt his uneasiness because your hands started to work fast in the bandages. He tried to look away while your fingers grazed here and there his raw skin, tender and welcoming.
“It seems like everything is healing well.” He could hear the smile on your voice, and without looking he knew your full cheeks were looking round and beautiful. “I smuggled some bacta patches from work that would do even a better job.” He just nodded, grateful and wanting this to be finished as soon as possible. Every muscle in him was tense while he was actively trying not to dwell on how delicious you smelled.
“I’m going to clean the wound first.” You informed him since he was looking away. The gentle touches provoked his chest to tighten and goosebumps started to form on Din’s skin. “Does it hurt?” Your voice carried a lot of worry and he felt bad.
“Sweet girl, if you only knew.” He thought, biting his lip under the helmet.
“Just hurry up please.” His voice came hoarser than he intended and he cleared his throat before speaking again. “Tell me about your job.” He said in a softer tone, intending to distract himself from the fire of your touch. He finally surrendered to turn his helmet to you again, and maker, what a sight. You were so, so close to him and your cheeks were rosy because of the sun. But the better part was seeing your eyes, lighted up like stars because of Din´s question.
“I’m an astrophysicist. Currently, I’m studying The Unknown Regions at the observatory. Trying to map them and gathering information about their systems.” It was clear you loved your job since your voice became so joyful and full of wonder in a moment. So you were a smart girl. Din knew how difficult calculations were even inside the mapped space. He saw you under another light now, but his interest didn’t show because he just nodded and remained silent as always, thinking about what to say next. Small talk wasn’t his forte. But looking at how your smile started to fade made him panic as he didn’t want you to feel bad. So he tried again.
“For us Mandalorians, knowing our way around the galaxy is essential. Space navigation and calculating hyperspace jumps are as important as blaster training.” You were the one that remained silent this time, gaze fixated on his wounds while applying the bacta patches carefully. It was probably the longest sentence he had spoken since you had met and he was suddenly self-aware of how he sounded. He started getting nervous when you didn´t answer. Prejudice against Mandalorians was usual among the galaxy, and it wouldn´t surprise Din that you’d been fed the same stories about them.
“So that’s who you are? A Mandalorian?” You asked curiously when you were finished with the patches. Oh, you weren’t mad, just concentrated. Din sighed in relief, feeling instantly ashamed of his concern. “You can dress now, I brought some ration packs if you’re hungry before leaving.”Din started working in his armor once again, fast and efficient, but trying to avoid the tender spots you had just dressed.
“So Mando is short for Mandalorian.” You realized munching a ration bar, speaking more to yourself than anything. When he was finished, you offered another one for him and also the water flask and a thermos with warm broth. When Din refused, your elegant brows joined in a cute annoyed face. “You have to eat something or you’ll faint before finding your son, Mando.”
Your threat worked so he grabbed the food you were offering, but just stood awkwardly there. You tilted your head in a silent question. Din realized then you didn’t know anything about Mandalorian culture.
“I…I can’t show my helmet…face…so…” Din blamed the blood loss for his lack of eloquence, but it looked like you caught the concept. Your smile was so kind when you looked at him understanding.
“Sure! Then if you excuse me, I’ll go use the bathroom to give you some privacy.” You said standing up nervously and shaking all the sand from your clothes. You avoided his gaze al looked embarrassed, probably thinking she had offended him.
“Be careful.” Din said when you started walking towards a nearby rock formation. Turning to him, your expression was amused when you spoke.
“Afraid some of some lizard biting my ass, Mando?” You giggled and disappeared behind the improvised restroom.
“There are far worse things than lizards in this land!” He responded, but the harm was already done: now he would be thinking about your ass again after fighting the thought for hours during your ride. It looked so plush, so rounded, and Din found him conjuring the image of how his hand would feel grabbing a handful of it and…
“Are you done?” You asked, cutting his daydreaming short. Dank Farrik, he was worse than a teenager. He then practically absorbed the food before giving you the green light, and shortly after you were both on your way to Mos Eisley again.
As you had calculated, the twin suns had just set when you made it through the city’s door. With Din’s indications, it wasn’t long until you arrived to Hangar 3-5. Due to the time, Peli had already finished her work day, so the first ones to say hi were a trembling R5 and the mechanic droids Mando despised.
“Tell Peli I’m here” You both didn’t wait long for the curly haired woman, who was chewing a plate of suspiciously-looking meat.
“I’m charging you extra for arriving after opening hours! I just roasted the biggest womp rat ever and it’s going to get cold!” She then eyed the woman piloting the speeder and smirked. But when she and Din got out of the vehicle she noticed the lack of a certain gremlin.
“Where’s the little one, Mando?” Her grumpy façade broke when she didn’t even see the hover pram around. Din felt like he was being gutted. He looked at his feet ashamed and defeated.
“They’ve taken him.” It was painful to speak and he felt how his eyes became glazy. Din thanked the helmet in situations like this. He turned his head when he felt a warm, soft hand just where his pauldrons ended. It was you, trying to comfort him silently. Your expression was shy, but your grip was steady and it somewhat grounded him. Peli looked at you both, brows up in silent amusement and Din caught the expression, feeling like his face was on fire.
“I’ll have the Crest ready in a second.” Peli said, keeping to herself any snarky remark going through her brain. “You better find the little one.” He added with a menacing finger against his cuirass, and Din could only nod. The bounty hunter didn’t tell her he didn’t know where to start looking. If he had his helmet off, he'd be pinching the bridge of his nose, but for now he could just stand there awkwardly twitching his fingers. You had been silent all the time, and Din realized that the dreadful moment had arrived.
“Tell the droids to refuel your bike, it’s on me.” He offered, not knowing how to address the elephant in the room. Din hadn’t noticed when, but you had removed your helmet and now your hair was framing lovingly your pretty face. Tatooine’s three moons made your skin glow like beskar and… Dank Farrik was he an idiot. “Uh…it’s not safe to cross the desert now.” A bit of common sense returned to him when he realized he couldn´t just send you home. He looked to his ship, then to his hands, and then to your pretty face again. All options were worse than each other. Inviting you to his ship? The Crest was probably kriffing uncomfortable for someone as you, he had seen your house, you liked to be surrounded by beautiful things, soft fabrics, like the carpet he had ruined with his blood. It didn´t look appropriate either He got nervous just imagining it. The other alternative was a hotel, but any of them on this side of the city was as unsafe as riding the desert alone in the middle of the night. But finally, his lust-clouded brain came up with something.
“I can drop you by the compound if you put the bike inside the cargo bay.” Maker, why did he have to sound so unsure with you? He felt like an idiot. But it looked like you had been waiting patiently for him to figure things out and just smiled in agreement.
“That would be really thoughtful Mando.” Thoughtful? How dare you say that after driving a stranger across the desert because he had his butt beaten up and his son kidnapped? Okay, it made a good sob story, but nevertheless. Your heart was made of gold. Din then froze for a moment. In his line of work, when things looked too good to be true, he should always be suspicious. He looked at your kind eyes under the moon. Dank Farrik it was almost painful to mistrust you.
“Ship’s ready!” Peli announced cleaning her hands from grease with a rag, followed by her droids. She looked to you and then to Din, and you smiled amicably to her and then proceeded to secure the bike inside of the cargo bay, leaving him and Peli alone.
“She looks like a good one Mando.” Peli nudged his bruised side and smiled with her incomplete dentition. Din couldn’t hide a groan of pain.
“You haven’t even spoken to her.” He responded exasperated, while handing her the credits he owed.
“Call it women’s intuition.” She ended the conversation returning to her kitchen to that roasted womp rat, leaving Din confused as hell.
In the meantime, it looked like you were ready on the top of the ramp, and you were just looking around uncomfortably while trying not to be too nosy. Din had noticed that one of your many virtues was your politeness and how you didn't make him feel uncomfortable.
“She seems nice.” You commented when Din had climbed the ramp. He chuckled dryly for a moment, and with the modulator it could have been missed for a cough.
“She’s a menace.”
You both were sitting in silence inside of the cockpit while Din covered the distance between Mos Eisley and the Observatory’s compound. What it had looked like a long ride, passed in the blink of an eye, and you were amazed at how fast a ship could move in atmo too. It wasn’t long until the control tower asked about your credentials to land, and you provided the employee number given to you. The landing was gentle and before you could realize it, you were just sitting there staring awkwardly at Mando. You didn´t want to leave.
On the other hand, Mando looked as frozen as you. Neither of you had said absolutely anything since abandoning Peli’s Hangar as if the reality of his son’s kidnapping had finally hit him. You didn’t want what to say. A million things passed through your mind, but any of them seemed adequate. Finally, you gathered the courage to stand up and Mando just kept his visor on you. The silence was thick and uncomfortable.
“I’m… I’m gonna get the speeder.” You finally said, pointing vaguely downwards, but not making any move. He nodded and you felt disappointed. He had just lost his son. What were you thinking? Him asking you on a date? He didn’t look like he did the whole dating thing anyway.
But then that particular thought installed inside your brain, landed like a ship in your head before you could stop it. How dare you? How dare you think you had any opportunity with Mando? Someone like him couldn’t possibly be attracted to you. Warriors valued strong, fit bodies. And you were the opposite of that. Your mood soured and you were just prepared to exit the cockpit when the cabin’s commlink went to live.
“Mando!” The same grey-bearded man from before appeared as a holo, his hand on his hips in a serious demeanor. “I have good and bad news for you.” The bounty hunter turned his body to face Greef Karga, giving him his full attention. “We know who has the kid and where are they taking him.”
“How is that bad news?” You interrupted, without containing your joy at the information. You didn’t know anything about the child, but you were already so invested in his recovery.
“They are taking him to the Unknown Regions, sweetheart. Unmapped Wild Space.” Karga explained with a gloomy demeanor. “It will be almost impossible to find him there…” He looked as devastated as the boy’s dad had looked before. However, Mando was still in silence although now his back looked straighter and more posture more confident. Maker, he even looked wider than before. He slowly turned his visor to look at you.
Maybe you weren’t confident with your body sometimes. But the thing you were sure of was your wits. So when you spoke, without looking away from Mando’s visor, it sounded almost cocky how self-assured you were. Your smile, not the sweet welcoming one, but an intelligent, mischievous grin, adorned your face when you spoke.
“It’s a pity for the kidnapers that I’m precisely an expert on that.”
Next Chapter
#din djarin#din djarin x you#din djarin x reader#the mandalorian#din djarin smut#din djarin x female reader#din djarin x y/n#din djarin fanfiction#the mandalorian smut#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fandom#droidwrites
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Melting Point: Chapter I
A Sculptor Din Djarin x Art PhD Reader Series
Read Prologue
Chapter I: The Artist/Metallike
Summary: Your roommate drags you to an art opening and It'll turn out to be such an interesting night that will leave you dreaming of brown eyes.
Words: 1721
Warnings: This is a slow burn, you've been warned!; a lot of talking about Art and PhD life; Reader is not Grogu's nanny but this is very Grogucentric if that makes sense; And Reader is Din's employee too; Very grumpy and antisocial Mando; Grogu is human but the only thing described are his eyes; Reader appearance is left blank; Age gap of 10-15 years; Fluff fluff fluff
A/N: Hi! I'm sorry for taking forever to upload this after so much teasing! Everything was practically written until Chapter 4, but last month has been a disaster. Hopefully, I'll be able to be back at it now. Anyway, I hope you enjoy Reader and Din meeting with a very Pride and Prejudice vibe.
When you arrived, the place was cramped. Everyone fancied free drinks on a Friday night at Navarro’s downtown, but this was… excessive for an art opening. After the awful day you’d had, you didn’t feel like squeezing yourself between strangers. You were just about to say to your roommate that you had thought better about it when you saw the poster in the window display of the local.
The Guild Gallery presents:
Mando
The Master of Beskar
15 unprecedented sculptures
Your jaw dropped immediately to the floor. You were so excited you had to grab your roommate’s arm to calm down.
“What’s the matter, sweetie?”
“You just dragged me to an exhibition of my favourite artist ever without knowing?” You were over the moon right now, Mando wasn’t an artist who used social media so it was never easy to come up with his next show. It was all part of the mysterious aura that was around him.
“Rumors say he is based in Nevarro.” One of your roommate’s friends severed, and your eyes sparkled in awestruck.
“Do you think he may come?” You were dying to ask him some questions, maybe even you could arrange an interview with him for your thesis work…
“He never shows up in his own exhibits, so I don’t think he will.” You were a bit disappointed, but it was the truth. No one knew his real name or face, only the generic pseudonym, and his breathtaking sculptures.
“Do you think he makes it in an entitled prick way? Like, to feed the mystery or something and sell more?” You looked at the boy furiously. You obviously didn’t know Mando personally, but you had extensively studied his artwork and could affirm you knew a bit about the psyche that hid behind his artwork.
“What if he’s just shy, or he doesn’t like the attention?” Your mental picture of Mando was the one of a person who struggled severely with emotion and used his sculpture as the only possible outcome. That was one of the reasons why his art moved you so deeply.
Your interlocutor didn’t have the opportunity to respond since it was your turn to enter the gallery. It was luxurious but not tacky, with a minimal interior design that gave the artwork the space to shine. You were mesmerized. Soon you grew apart from the group because they were more interested in the free booze while you admired each one of the pieces. Grabbing your tiny notebook from your purse, you annotated everything about the sculptures that resonated de most with you.
“Breathtaking, aren’t they?” A well-dressed, middle-aged man was standing next to you. He had an air of dignity in him, but also a pinch of mischief in his eyes that delatated his true character.
“They’re stunning.” You mumbled admiring the hard planes of the sculpture that was standing right in front of you. The same you had been observing for twenty minutes straight: a faceless warrior in a startling fighting pose.
“Mando always finds a way to surprise us.” Then, he extended his hand to you and you squeezed it gently. “Greef Karga, I’m the owner.” He clarified while shaking vigorously your smaller hand. You blushed violently, maybe he had mistaken your interest for being a potential customer? Nevertheless, you offered him a smile and your name too, always wanting to be polite.
“I’m actually a researcher on Mandalorian art, and I’ve been following Mando’s career for a while.”
“You’re talking to the man who sold his first artwork, sunshine.” He confessed as if he was telling you a secret. The desired effect was accomplished and your eyes were opened wide.
“Really? That’s…that’s…” Your words were betraying you and the man only smiled wider. Then you started a battle with your purse to find the wallet. “I…know he does like to keep his…privacy, but if he is ever interested in an interview I’ll…it will be really meaningful to my research.” You blurted giving him your business card. He observed it and repeated your name to himself.
“I’ll let him know darling.” He then put a friendly hand on your shoulder as a farewell when something heavy touched your foot, making you flinch. You looked to the floor: a metal ball had hit your foot. Looking confused at your surroundings, you crouched to grab the round object when its owner appeared.
“Oh hi, baby!” You cooed, your face brightening when your eyes found the tiny face of a toddler. “Is this yours?” They approached you a bit shyly, looking at you and the ball, as if weighing their options. The baby stared at you, blinking a few times, until they bent clumsily to grab it.
“Patu!” The little one said showing triumphantly the shiny object. The corner of your eyes squinted of the pure tenderness this creature provoked in you.
“Grogu, my little man!” Karaga called, to your surprise. You had to admit: you had forgotten about him for a little moment, but it was great that they knew each other. The toddler squeaked in delight, running to the man’s leg. He certainly looked amused with the encounter, so they were probably close-
“Ah!” The boy babbled cheerfully to you both, showing off his treasure again, and then started patting Karga’s leg.
“Your dad hasn’t got you dinner? Come here, let me grab you a sandwich.” The toddler sounded excited and made grabby hands to the older man to be picked up. Your eyes met with his as he observed you with curiosity. They were dark and huge, almost too big for the kid’s face. You gave him your brightest smile and he did the same in return.
“He looks sharp as a tack!” You praised, giggling a bit.
“You wouldn’t imagine.”
Both of you laughed together as Grogu started to explain something in incoherent baby language.
“Oh, so you are enjoying the Art Exhibition too? What’s your favourite piece? I see…” You pretended to understand his excited gestures as Karga started to walk to the catering table. “It’s clear you’re such a connoisseur, sir.”
“Could you hold him a moment? I’m making him a sandwich.” Karga’s question took you off-guard, but he didn’t wait for an answer as he placed the toddler in your chest Both of you studied each other's eyes for a moment. You could count the times you had held a little one with the fingers of a hand. But finally, he looked satisfied after scanning your face and squeaked happily, starting playing with your hair and jewellery, even mapping your cheeks and nose with his tiny hands. A warm feeling ignited inside your chest as you replied sweet nothings to his babbling.
“Grogu! Here you are!”
The three of you looked in the direction of the baritone voice who had just called the baby. Between the multitude, appeared a man who stood up amongst everyone. Though he was dressing casually, in full denim, his handsome face and broadness were so obvious. Your mouth went dry. Not only his physical appearance but his gait and the way he carried himself. You weren’t used to meeting men like that. He was borderline intimidating. His scowl while looking at the baby didn’t help with that. Was he angry that a stranger held the boy?
“Din! Good to see you, I thought your son would be hungry.” The gorgeous man huffed in response, looking at the sandwich Greef Karga had just prepared.
“The little womp-rat is always hungry,” he mumbled and started caressing the boy’s head, and the baby giggled. “I asked you to stay there.” He scolded, but the toddler just looked happy to see him again. Din sighed in resignation and finally, it looked like he noticed your presence for the first time. While you still had Grogu between your arms, he stared at you without a word, like you were a sculpture and not a person. You observed him back without shame and he tilted his head slightly while studying you. He looked stiff as a board and didn’t stop frowning all the time.
Weird.
Luckily, Karga spoke after the strange silence between you became too tense.
“Din, this is…” Karga started introducing you after clearing his throat, but then the little boy interrupted by babbling at you while offering you his ball.
“You want to play baby?” You asked, but you could see his handsome dad pinch his nose. It wasn’t the moment to annoy this stranger who didn’t seem to like you. “Later, ok? First, be a good boy and have dinner.” Your soft voice reminded him of the prospect of food, and now he was twisting in your arms. You let go of him and the toddler ran immediately to grab Din’s calf. The man looked exhausted and 100% like he didn’t want to be there. But when he put the little one between his strong arms his face lightened up in a way that made your heart skip a beat. Without a word, he left towards the catering table. Before getting lost between the multitude, Grogu’s head popped behind Din’s toned shoulder and he waved at you. You needed a moment to recover, having melted like ice cream from the cuteness of the gesture.
What a pair.
“I’m sorry sweetheart, Din can be a little rude sometimes.” You shook your head dismissively in response when Karga excused his friend, even though a little rude was a polite way to say it.
“Don’t worry sir, the baby was so adorable I didn’t notice.” You then offered your best smile before departing. “I leave you to attend the other visitors, it’s been a pleasure.”
Later in your shared dorm, you’d think a lot about the pair you had met. Such a friendly toddler and his dad? He was so attractive and manly you felt dizzy, but he had been so rude to you. What was the problem with him? He looked like he instantly disliked you. Maybe it was your cologne? Was it your outfit? Turning in your narrow mattress, you said to yourself you had more pressing matters to attend to, like how the hell you were going to pay for the semester after your scholarship had been denied. You sighed and closed your eyes, and you dreamt with broad shoulders and bright huge eyes.
Next Chapter
Tag List: @technicallykawaiisoul
#din djarin#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#din djarin fanfic#din djarin x female reader#din djarin x original female character#modern din djarin#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin fic#din djarin fluff#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian x you#the mandalorian x y/n#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#pedro boys#pedro pascal characters#droidwrites#sculptor din djarin
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Melting Point: Chapter II
A Sculptor Din Djarin x Art PhD Reader Series
Read Prologue | Chapter I
Chapter II: The Sculptor/Temper
Summary: You get a job offer you can't refuse and meet your new boss, a gruff sculptor who is so familiar.
Words: 2393
Warnings: This is a slow burn, you've been warned!; a lot of talking about Art and PhD life; Reader is not Grogu's nanny but this is very Grogucentric if that makes sense; And Reader is Din's employee too; Very grumpy and antisocial Mando; Grogu is human but the only thing described are his eyes; Reader appearance is left blank; Age gap of 10-15 years; Fluff fluff fluff
A/N: I darlings! I hope you enjoyed Christmas if that is your thing! I'm back with a new chapter, let me know what you think because I have a lot of feelings about The Armorer being reader's thesis tutor *cries in mommy issues*. Hope you enjoy this!
That morning you so were nervous. No, terrified. Finally, you were having your first meeting with your thesis tutor, the renowned artist and professor Dr. Armorer. You admired her work so much, and her deep knowledge of Ancient Mandalorian Art was admirable. All of her books were constantly by your bedside, extensively annotated. What would your role model think of you?
Your first impression was that she commanded so much respect with only her way of standing. She insisted on meeting in the faculty’s foundry, while you had expected to talk in her office. You couldn’t get your eyes off her while she was working with the red-hot metal against her anvil. She stopped hammering when she noticed you standing awkwardly at the door.
“Welcome kid.” Her voice was flat while the visor of her safety mask was fixed into you. “I’m sorry for the scholarship.” Okay, so right to the point, no pleasantries. You shivered, feeling self-conscious, and downed your gaze to the floor. “Your proposal is magnificent and I pushed for you to be admitted, but the budget is limited and now Nevarro City is placing its interest in other departments.” After placing her tools in their place. She didn’t remove her leather gloves though.
“Thank you Dr. Armorer, I’m well aware that investing in Art has never been one of the top priorities of the governments.” Your tone came surprisingly cynical while it was sad too. Your cheeks blushed for the sudden outburst in front of the professor.
“Do you drink caf?” You nodded and she directed her attention to a little coffee maker in a corner that you hadn’t noticed earlier. Soon she handed you a steamy cup of the dark liquid. She had brewed one for herself but hadn’t lifted her golden mask to drink yet. It looked like she was studying you.
“Professor, I’m very embarrassed to admit this, but I applied to the program expecting to receive that scholarship, and without it I’m afraid cannot afford my studies,” you blurted with your gaze fixated on your drink. “I’m very sorry for having wasted your time, but…”
“What brings you to want to study Mandalorian art, kid? She interrupted mid-sentence and you swallowed hard. A heat started expanding through your veins and it wasn’t because of the coffee. It was always the same when you spoke about your passion.
“Mandalorian culture is one of the most ancient ones still alive. The artistic manifestations were present early in their history and bound intimately with the development of the technology necessary to process beskar. The importance of the clans' signets was another factor to push for a more refined technique when working the metal…”
“I didn’t ask you for the book definition of Mandalorian art. My question was why you, a non-Mandalorian, want to specifically specialize in our art.” Her tone was still flat, but commanding. Had you made her mad? Was it wrong that you wanted to study Mandalorian Art?
“The way your sculpture is so raw and naked and still conveys the most profound, earth-shattering feeling while using something as cold as beskar, turning it into living and breathing things. It’s bold and succinct, it shows and hides and that gives me goosebumps every time I look into a Mandalorian sculpture.” You didn’t want to be so passionate in your first encounter with Professor Armorer, but the fear of being rejected not only by the scholarship commission but also by her, made you snap. Your skin felt hot and your heart was hammering inside your chest.
The Armorer, as everyone called her, hummed in contentment, and then she grabbed a notepad and a pencil that had seen better days and scribbled something.
“My friend is looking for an assistant to help him around in the studio. Since your background is in Fine Art, I think you’ll manage just fine.” She gave you the paper with only a number and address on it. You looked at her quizzically. “The salary he offers should cover your stay here. I’ll arrange your schedule so your obligations as a PhD student are met.” You could cry with gratitude right now, even though you knew nothing about this job. “And concerning your tuition fees, let me move some strings. I can’t promise anything kid, but I may know someone who’d be interested in sponsoring you.” You could hug this woman, kiss her on her protection mask. But you stayed in your seat grabbing the mug she gave you like a lifeline.
“I can’t…I don’t know…” You babbled with watery eyes.
“I only expect the best of you kid, it’s gonna be hard work. Now go.” And then she returned to her work in the forge, leaving you trembling with excitement.
After scrolling down some job portals, you closed your laptop with a sigh, calculating the best way to manage your savings to stretch them to the limit. With maximum frugality, you could make it through three months.
Professor Armourer had given you that mysterious number, but even though you were going to try, you didn’t want to depend 100% on her kindness. Moreover, you didn’t know which type of “studio assistant” job this would be since she provided little description. You grabbed the piece of paper and called. Nothing. You went on with your routine and tried again later, but no one responded.
Would it be too bold to just show up there? After all, your tutor had provided an address, so it was assumable it was okay if you just went there to speak to her friend in person. Like the old times, didn’t people do that? So you made up your mind and grabbed your tote bag and your trusty flannel. Slipping in some sneakers, you went outside to explore Nevarro City.
The area was definitely more industrial, certainly convenient for someone who was a metal artist, nevertheless, it had some charm to it. The warehouses were old, some of them reconverted into homes or other artist’s studios. You looked again at the paper provided by the professor when you recognized a building with large windows and a silver, old truck parked in the door as the one you were looking for. A big container with metal scraps was against one of the walls. You looked for a doorbell or something similar but nothing was in sight, so you decided to just pound the door.
Metallic sounds could be heard from the interior, and you asked yourself which kind of artist they were. After a while, you pounded the door again, it was clear they hadn't heard you. But the noise was loud and on top of that some electric guitar music was playing. You decided to make a bold move and try to open the door.
The inside was bright due to the big windows. The studio was neat and functional with all the tools one needed to work metal from small to large scale. Semi-finished projects were here and there, but it looked like everything had an order inside the warehouse. You could spot a little kitchenette too and a mattress in a cosy corner.
The man you were looking for was working at the big wooden table that occupied the centre of the room. It looked like he was polishing a metal piece, and sparks were flying all around. The first thing you noticed was the welding mask. It was beautiful, reflecting all the little sparks like fireworks, and had a similar design to the one The Armorer wore. It was shaped like a traditional Mandalorian helmet, the one the ancient warriors once used as battle armour. You smiled to yourself.
You went closer to where he was working, being cautious to not startle him, but it looked like he hadn’t sensed your presence yet, so you just observed him. The sleeves of his work jumpsuit were rolled and you could admire how muscular his forearms were between the fabric and the leather gloves he used for protection. The zipper of his clothing piece was down until his sternum, letting you see thigh undershirt under it, revealing sculpted pecs.
Maker help me if this man is gonna be my boss.
His black visor was suddenly pointed in your direction and you almost jumped from the surprise. He had left de welder on the wooden table and lowered the volume of the music on a radio that looked as old as time and then approximated you. All his movements were slow and restrained.
“What do you want?” He asked drily, without removing the welding mask from his face. As his friend the professor, he didn’t waste a second in pleasantries. His voice was as gruff as his looks. He didn’t look like an artist at all but a sort of mechanic or technician.
He waited for your response with his gloved hands in his narrow hips, a leg slightly flexed. The way he carried himself made him look like a statue in a museum. He was observing you carefully, from head to toe. You noticed your mouth was dry.
“I…The Armourer sent me…because of the job…assistant.” You said finally. Perfect, you now had made a fool of yourself by speaking like you didn’t know grammar when you indeed made a living of writing. You could die of the embarrassment.
“I told her…” He started and then sighed, lowering his broad shoulders in defeat. “Come, have a seat.” He said tilting his head towards a desk next to the large windows.
You assumed it was a desk because it was completely covered by stacks of diverse documents and you couldn’t even guess the material of the piece of furniture. You observed them as you sat in a beautiful vintage chair, while he did the same in front of you. A lot of invoices, a PC as old as time, sketches of what looked like sculptures, sheets with budgets, newspapers, exhibition brochures. You smiled softly when you distinguished the characteristic doodles of a little kid. You kept that last info to yourself, thinking it wasn’t polite to be nosy in your first meeting.
He then looked at you like it was the first time he acknowledged your presence. His legs were wide apart, but while he looked confident you noticed he was fidgeting with his gloved fingers. What a curious man. And why was he so familiar?
“What can you do?” He asked, always the eloquent one. You looked around you for a moment, gathering your thoughts.
“Anything you need around here.” You responded, now a bit more confident. “I can operate almost every machine in this place, know the basics of wielding, and can help with molds and the foundry” He now looked more interested, bending his large body towards the table. “But for a start, I think the most urgent matter is this mess.” Sure, you were cheeky, but you needed the job, and it was obvious the man needed help with admin. You went from nervous to sassy in five minutes. “Does that even work, or is it part of an art installation?” You pointed to the PC that looked like it was stuck in the 90’s. He made a noise that could be a chuckle or a grunt.
“The Armourer sent me your CV.”
Oh, so he knew you were coming after all.
“What makes a qualified researcher as you want to work as an assistant?” This was probably the highest number of words he had put together to this moment. His low baritone was warm and nice to hear.
You blushed a bit. Of course, you had made your apportations, but you were only starting in the Academia even though you had some articles published. But qualified was a bit of a stretch. You could tell him the truth. That you needed to pay rent after being denied the scholarship. But that didn’t put you in a good light, especially in a job interview.
“Being a researcher, I tend to spend most of my day in my head. Manual labour grounds me.” You bit your lip a bit nervous because you had just offered a piece of personal information, even though anything in your tone revealed that you weren’t referring only to your job.
He only nodded in understanding, crossing his thick forearms over his chest.
“You start tomorrow at 1500.” Okay, former military maybe? That was rich. And it was the shortest job interview of your life. “I usually wrap up at 2100, is that okay for you?” His voice had a kinder tone now, although sounding still gruff. You recounted mentally the bus timetable to your home and calculated it would be tight but you could make it.
“Yes, is perfect.” You offered him a big smile for the first time feeling grateful. “Thank you for the opportunity.” Then he accompanied you to the door and you realized he hadn’t provided you a name. He probably knew you from your CV though. You panicked a bit, trying to recall if Professor Armourer had told you his name but you couldn’t remember and it seemed awkward to ask now.
When you made your exit through the door, he leaned against it and you noticed he was as wide as the frame. The perks of being a sculptor, you supposed. You had to stop admiring his physique if he was going to be your boss. You arranged a bit your heavy tote bag on your shoulder and put a stray lock of hair behind your ear.
“I’m looking forward to tomorrow.” You said to the statue man. He just nodded and you awkwardly acknowledged the interaction was over, so you left with an energetic handwave while he was standing there nonchalantly. Was he observing you? Just having some fresh air? You couldn’t tell with that damned mask. You found yourself wondering how he’d look under it. But it felt weird you didn’t know your boss's name or how he looked. You turned on your heels and gathered some courage. He was still in the same position and you felt super awkward. “I’m sorry, I think I didn’t catch your name and it felt wrong leaving without…”
Your new boss sighed heavily, and so so slowly, started to remove his welding mask. Your jaw dropped. Those sad eyes weren’t easy to forget.
“It’s Din, Din Djarin.”
Next Chapter
Taglist: @technicallykawaiisoul @dameron-grant-spector
#din djarin#the mandalorian#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#din djarin fanfiction#modern au din djarin#modern din djarin#the mandalorian x y/n#din djarin fanfic#din djarin x fem!reader#din djarin x female reader#sculptor din djarin#the mandalorian fanfiction#droidwrites#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fandom#pedro boys
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Drawing Droid’s chaotic Masterlist
Hi, I’m Terry, a Spanish Illustrator & Art teacher who is too obsessed with a space dad and his green child. I love writing fics of them as well as doodling anything Star Wars-related. I take drawing requests at the moment, so drop a message in my inbox if you want a treat. Thank you for sticking with me on this adventure, see you around. 🩵
General info of interest idk
🩵 You can find all my art under #droiddraws and my writings as #droidwrites
🩵 I update on AO3 here
🩵 This is my first year on Tumblr and I still don’t get things 100% here please be patient with me also I’m autistic and a lot of new social cues I don’t get!
One Shots
To be taken care of 🍾 Bounty Hunter Reader | Smut
Sweet Potato 🍠 Modern AU | Neighbours | Fluff
Series
The Unknown Regions 🪐 Plus Size Reader | Adventure, Fluff and Smut 🗓️ Ongoing
Melting Point 🌋 Modern AU | Sculptor Din Djarin | Art PhD Reader | Slow Burn 🗓️ Ongoing
Sketches
Vader under the suit red and blue
Anakin and Padme
Revenge of the Sith Happy Ending AU
Agent Whiskey and Grogu
Grogu Doodles here, here and here 💚
Silly Thanksgiving Din
Bento Box Grogu
Cowboy Grogu
Menstrual cup Din
Confused Din Djarin
Side profile Din
Finished Pieces
Too lazy to finish anything RN
Gifts, Commissions & Requests
Obi-Wan Kenobi x OC
Count Dooku x OC
Here I put all my fav fics and art from other creators I love! Don’t wanna have that gems lost in the vastness of the internet!
Fav Art
That amazing comics of Din and Grogu that make me cry @abigaillarson
Best SW comics in the galaxy @stealingpotatoes
Supreme Din Djarin Art @immarocketman
Din an Grogu being cute & chaotic af by @wwapich
Maul x Obi-Wan Comics I didn’t knew I needed! @milkcioccolato
The cutest SW chibis @nikkigam
Fav Fics
Sweetest Modern Din Djarin AU @604to647
All my fav Pedro Boys by @fuckyeahdindjarin
The cutest Din!!! By @thefrogdalorian
Everything by @beskarandblasters honestly
Other
The dividers we can’t live without from @saradika @saradika-graphics
#din djarin#star wars#the mandalorian#din djarin x you#din djarin x reader#din grogu#grogu#sw#star wars fanart#din djarin x plus size!reader#din djarin x f!reader#din djarin x gn!reader#din djarin x y/n#din djarin x fem!reader#clan of two#clan of three#clan mudhorn#shiny tin can#shiny dad#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro boys#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal#pedro pascal smut#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#droidwrites#droiddraws
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Girl you're so real for that last Cal post. I can just imagine a scene in an alternative Always Red where Trilla is frustratedly trying to explain to Cal that killing your allies is a big No No. And he's just. On an unhinged rant about the poetry of love as violence and violence as love and the importance of unshakable bonds wherever they're found. And she's just like. Frustrated big sister sighing wanting to throttle the idiot for missing The Point and also now they need to have a convo about fraternising with the enemy
Oh boy, anon. You've gone and done it now. Please enjoy this In Between
Inquisitor Cal Kestis / Second Sister Trilla Suduri
1926 words
Trilla and Cal have a conversation where he tries to explain the inherent romance of hunting another human being and the merits of violence as a love language.
This takes place between Chapters 1 and 2 of Always Red.
It Won't Be Easy
Within the fortress Inquisitorius the day appeared much like any other. A sterile environment so pristinely kept that there is a reflective specter looking back in every surface. Outside, the weather is surprisingly pleasant. A sun is shining over the choppy sea that is normally battering the fortress with walls of salt water with wave after wave.
The Second Sister stands, spine erect with her hands clasped neatly behind her back in the debriefing room before the massive window with her eyes on the horizon. The Fifth Brother rattles off the happenings of his most recent mission and his misgivings concerning their sister in arms, Trilla contemplates the rays of sunshine on the horizon, one’s she never thought possible on Nur.
“She’s too unpredictable. It is a liability to have her on mission,” he complains in his baritone voice.
“The unexpected can be made into an advantage if you are clever. Did you come here to tell me you are not clever?” Suduri’s tone is measured but belittling.
“Ah, no Second Sister. I only have the Empire’s interest-“
“Allow your betters to concern themselves with the Empire’s interests. You just do as you’re told.”
“Yes, Second Sister.”
“And do not concern me with the actions of your brethren unless I ask for an update directly. Assume I am already aware of their behavior.”
“Yes Second Sister,” is all the Fifth Brother can seem to say.
“Next time there will be consequences,” she menaces casually.
“Yes, Sec-“
Just then the absurdly tall sliding doors open with a dramatic whoosh. The thirteenth Brother ushers himself in as though he was announced.
“Inquisitor Kestis,” Trilla pretends to sound annoyed at the lack of decorum.
“In the flesh,” Cal’s tone is casual, a mockery of the Fifth Brothers rigidness. “Here for the Zeffo debriefing. Oh hey five,” Cal tosses the greeting across the way as he seats himself at the massive obsidian table, sliding his chair in with a screech.
His nose is swollen, offset and bruised all over in purple and blue. Cal’s delightful demeanor does not lend itself to the condition of his face.
“We are not yet fini-“ the Fifth Brother starts, clearly irritated.
“You are dismissed, Fifth Brother.” Trilla cuts him off tersely and stands resolute and unchallenged.
The corners of the Fifth Brother’s mouth turn down into a deep frown but he wastes no time getting to his feet. His displeasure is made known only by the short pause he spares beside Cal’s chair to look down his nose at his fellow Inquisitor. Unbothered, Cal lifts his legs to rest his feet on the arm of the nearest chair before twittering his fingers in a childish dismissal of his compatriot.
Fifth Brother groans audibly and tosses a last look of disapproval at his superior before striding from the room.
Cal crosses his arms over his chest and watches Trilla move away from the window.
“I take it your mission was a success?” She asks with a mite less crispness in her voice. “Is the Jedi dead or captured?”
“Neither,” Cal huffs with a laugh. “She escaped actually.”
She looms over him then, unsubtle and threatening. “Then praytell, Inquisitor Kestis, how is it you’re before me smiling like an imbecile while you deliver news of your failure. Others have lost their lives for less.”
“Trilla, Trilla, Trilla,” Cal nudges the nearest chair with the toe of his boot, inviting his superior to take a seat, as his feet thump onto the floor. “I think I’m in love”.
Her sigh is heavy and drawn out before she resigns herself to Cal’s antics and sits beside him.
“You always say that,” Trilla is exhausted, run ragged by her office. Inwardly, she enjoys the Thirteenth Brother’s informal and familiar attitude albeit when there are no others around to hear how she allows him to speak with her.
“I do not,” Cal objects mildly, smirking all the while.
“I won’t be lied to,” Trilla skewers his fib with an abjectly pointed finger. “And I would find it absolutely unacceptable if such a thing kept you from doing your job, though surprisingly I must admit that it does not.” It is Trilla now who lifts her legs to rest her boots on the arm of Cal’s chair.
“Up to a certain point it’s the same process. Pursuing a lover, stalking prey. No matter how you slice that cake, a hunt is a hunt. The whole thing is inherently romantic”.
“Your love is the chase then, and not the chased.” Trilla wants to make him eat his words even when she knows to engage him this way is a downward spiral where he must prove he is right.
“Usually, but not this time.” Cal surprises her with this admission. “Well, yeah hunting her is-“ Cal pushes to look at the ceiling as though the word he is searching for is written there, “-exhilarating. But it’s more than that. When we fight it’s like…poetry.”
Trilla pinches the bridge of her nose. “I am positive beyond reason that I will regret this but…elaborate.”
Cal purses his lips while taking a moment to search his mind before asking with a snap of his fingers, “you ever been to Lothal?”
“Unfortunately,” The Second Sister deadpans.
“Then maybe you’ve seen a Loth-wolf. Big predators, smart, social, Jedi love ‘em. They’re normally pretty standoffish with the farmers there, not so troublesome if you leave them alone.”
“I haven’t seen one in person though I am familiar with the beasts.”
“So their diets mostly consist of wild Nerfs. You know what those are right?”
“I beg you to make your point,” Trilla picks an invisible speck of lint off her cuff, grown bored.
“I’m getting there. So they keep Nerfs as livestock on Lothal too but the farmed ones don’t get as big. They’re fat and dumb y’know. And it’s like I said the Loth-wolves mostly keep to themselves except every now and then they just swoop into a settlement and they will just completely slaughter every fucking nerf in the herd. I’m talking absolute bloodbath. Just one after another until there’s none left standing.” He’s grinning now.
Trilla becomes at least mildly interested once bloodshed is mentioned, like all Inquisitors do. “Slaughter you say?” The Second Sister feigns sarcasm though her piqued interest shines through.
“And these farms can be huge. Hundreds of cattle, maybe thousands. And the weird thing is the wolves don’t even eat the meat. So why bother, right? They just leave once every Nerf is dead or they get chased off, but they only do it with the domesticated nerfs. It’s a behavior that’s only surfaced with the spread of commercial farming,” Cal pauses, expecting Trilla to find this information as interesting as he does. She doesn’t.
Trilla releases a tired sigh and lays a heavy look on Cal. It frustrates him that she cannot guess where he’s going with this yet. She shrugs in response to his visible disappointment.
“Come on, Trilla! How can you not see! It’s because they don’t know how to answer! They’re just-they’re” Cal stutters while his brain moves quicker than his mouth, usually the reverse is true. “They’re dead inside. Walking around, eating and pissing and shitting but you look in their eyes and they're dead already.”
“Center yourself, Kestis. Start speaking sensically or I’m leaving.” Their philosophical discussions have unraveled this way in the past.
Cal huffs a calming breath through his nostrils.
“Everytime you start a hunt. You’re asking your quarry a question. Are you worthy enough of my pursuit or my energy? It has to nourish more than my body and if you aren’t up to the task it’s just killing for killing’s sake. Which is fine, but-” Cal’s eyes are full of emotion, of passion and heart. “When I say ‘I’m coming to kill you’ what I want to hear back is …‘it won’t be easy. Otherwise it’s just a one-sided conversation.”
Trilla’s nod is small. She reluctantly cedes that this sentiment is known to her. It’s the spark Cal has been waiting for and he is spurred to continue.
“Livestock don’t understand the question. The wolves keep asking and all they hear is static. Working their way through an entire herd without a single response. These predators ignite an ancient ritual and they’re dancing alone.”
“Sad,” Trilla’s gaze drifts to an empty spot on the meticulously clean floor.
“Yes! It’s so sad!” Cal is overexcited to be understood. He pops up from his seat and plops back down.
“Alright then if I understand you correctly, and I do,” she claps her hands on her knees, “you fancy yourself a Loth-wolf and this Jedi from Zeffo is a …wild nerf and she is in a… conversation with you and this woman is decidedly not dead inside.”
“Beautiful and smart,” Cal says with a smirk, much returned to his cavalier self.
“Indeed,” Trilla stands and pulls on the hem of her uniform, smoothing out the wrinkles, while Cal remains casually seated.
“You should see her. When she’s fighting her eyes are full of fire that screams and burns,” his gaze is lost, gone somewhere, back to Zeffo. A moment later Cal remembers himself and looks at Trilla, who has been watching him. “It won’t be easy”.
“But worth it, perhaps,” she mutters, as agreeable as Cal’s ever heard her.
“Did you ever feel this way, hunting someone?” Cal asks rather innocently.
“No,” Suduri answers speedily. “They are merely objectives.”
“You wouldn’t describe my capture as …intimate?” His yellow eyes shine playfully.
“Not at all,” Trilla does her best to mimic his flippant nature. “Nothing personal, Kestis.”
“Not ever?” The red leather of Cal’s gloves creak as he cracks his knuckles.
Trilla holds him in an unflinching gaze before lifting one shoulder rather coquettishly in a shrug. “No”.
“Hm,” Cal’s back straightens and he tilts his head, musing. “Then I guess you won’t ever understand what she and I have.”
This rubs Suduri the wrong way and she is about to make it known until their heads turn in unison. Abruptly, the obsidian doorway opens with a whoosh admitting the Fourth Sister who sidles up to the table in confident strides before standing at attention.
“Pardon the interruption Second Sister. I’ve compiled the report on Mapuzo that you requested.” Her raspy voice is harsh and stringent.
“Just a moment,” Trilla says, turning her attention from the Fourth Sister to the Thirteenth Brother. She leans down over Cal gripping the armrests on either side of him, demeanor much changed. Only barely does Cal mask his amusement. “If you hunted this Jedi with half the vigor you spend waxing poetically about doing your job, it will have been done twice over. Your repeated failure does not endear you to me, Brother. Unless she is dealt with, do not return. Am I understood?”
Cal stands slowly, causing Trilla to straighten, their eyes lock menacingly. Cal is infuriatingly calm and endlessly entertained. “Yes, Ma’am. Understood.”
“Dismissed.” The command falls to the floor like a stone between them before Cal turns to leave. As he saunters to the door he hears the Trilla say, “Fourth Sister, if you see Inquisitor Kestis in the Fortress again without having logged a successful mission eliminate him on sight.”
The Fourth Sister grins from ear to ear, casting a look at Cal over her shoulder.
“Yes, Second Sister. With pleasure.”
Cal ignores the theatrical display of authority and instead heads toward the hangar bay. Sources say that the Stinger Mantis has been sighted on Kashyyyk.
Tag List: @gabile18 @futuredisneyartist @hibernating4ever @i-am-mystic @elwethe @howlingmadlady @2badgersinatrenchcoat @trtc-745600 @teddiebuns @tinyplantinvasion @tytoowl @cafedeagua @sashyburi @jokidden @mongol55
#always ask#anonymous#droidwrites#inquisitor cal kestis#cal valeska#always red series#trilla suduri#jedi fallen order#calquisitor
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I figured out how to get unstuck to write the final chapter of The Unknown Regions! Since it's a more action-heavy one I was struggling with it, but I got it now!
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ALWAYS RED PSA
I said it’s over but …Too sad about letting go of the murder kids so I think I’m gonna write a reverse/ alternate ending for Stay the Black. Something real gut wrenching and sad cause I want to 😈
Also I want to collect fan art from over the years and put it all in one place because I absolutely love it and it deserves to be seen collectively. There’s not a lot but I want to make sure it’s ok with creators to post! I’ll reach out soon to ask as I dig up the lovely works!
#always red series#always red#stay the black#droidwrites#I say fan art collection like there’s an actual collection#it’s very small but very precious to me!
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DroidRights PSA
It’s been a long time since the last update of Stay the Black
It gnaws. I have an endless amount of notes, outlines, playlists, all of it and when I sit down to write I can eke out like a page but the headway is minimal.
Having a bit of a rough go lately and I struggle to focus But I am working on it!
I’m going to the woods where the internet cannot follow (the same place in fact where I wrote the last chapter of always red) I’m going to hike and kayak and bike and forage and feed blue jays and spy on mega fauna, cook over a fire and feel cold wind on my face and when it’s night time and I’m tired from being in nature all day hopefully I’ll be writing!
I haven’t forgotten about the murder kids. They’re dying to kill starkiller.
Fingers crossed 🤞🏼for some real peace and quiet so I can write this fucking FIGHT.
#droidwrites#writing update#working on ch16 of stay the black#stay the black#always red series#always red
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