Din Djarin x Reader One-Shots

Strange Savior | Part 1

Warnings: Blood, Spoilers for BOBF, Unedited

Mandalorian x Male! Reader

Word Count: 1484 (This was originally gonna be a bit longer, but whatever.)

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You hurried through the streets of Coruscant, rushing to make it on the next train and away from the problems that chased behind you on speeder bikes. Your bloodied cheek still stung but you ignored it as you joined the crowd, praying to the Maker that you weren't too late.

Ignoring everyone around you, you skid between two distracted aliens and mingled with the rest of the line, heavy chest heaving for air. Finally after what seemed like forever, you got to the detectors, but just as you were about to hop onto the train, alarms went off. Everyone walked off without you.

You sighed and froze, turning to the droid at your side, but noticed a Mandalorian there as well. Maybe you could sneak away...

Another droid practically shoved you next to the beskar man and you both seemed rather annoyed.

"Excuse me Sir," The robotic voice buzzed, gesturing to the white holding boxes set on the table before you. "You're going to have to remove your weapons." Before you could protest, the Mandalorian spoke up.

"I'm a Mandalorian, weapons are part of my religion." He said, trying to move past the Droid. Its yellow screen eyes followed him.

"I'm sorry sir, you can't board a commercial flight with your weapons." You rolled your eyes. The man looked at the passing people that were filling the train and sighed, tilting his head down in defeat. "If you wish to discuss this with my supervisor, I will gladly book you on tomorrow's flight." It said, handing him a ticket, which he begrudgingly took. 

"Fine." He mumbled, opening his box to place his weapons in. Then the droid turned to you.

"I'm going to have to ask the same of you." It stated. You shook your head, wincing as the cold breeze brushed your cut.

"No, I can't-"

"Sir, I must remind you that-"

"I know, I know, but you don't understand-"

"Sir, please-"

"I can't just-"

"Sir." Its eyes glitched, and you could practically see the motherboards ready to call someone to take you off. If you didn't get away soon, you'd never leave again. At least not alive. 

You sighed reluctantly.

Beside you, the Mandalorian watched the argument out of the corner of his eye as he emptied the weapons from his own person. The peculiar man trying to bargain with an AI. 

Your h/c hair was braided close to your scalp, but gathered in a ponytail running down your neck/back, a f/c thread weaved through the strands. A scar ran from behind your ear to the side of your scalp. 

He saw you wince each time your mouth moved, which pulled the raw gnarly cut on your cheek, but you continued to fight. You looked pretty roughed up, with a rumpled navy blue shirt, leather brown jacket, almost black green cargo pants and a clip belt, all with tears or bloody stains visible.

But eventually you were forced to agree, and pulled up a locker box of your own.

Finally when he was done and locked up the box, he looked up at the droid and pointed a threatening finger. "I know everything that's in there."

"Proceed."

And he almost did, but the clatter and racket from beside him drew his attention. You still stood there, pulling vibroblades and blasters from places he didn't know they could fit. Your things were piling up, detonators and flash bombs, tripwires and throwing stars, pistols and trackers, yet you kept reaching into your jacket and other pockets clumsily. People around you gave you strange looks, and Mando couldn't look away.