Din Djarin x Reader One-Shots

Falling For Love | Part 1

Requested by @Ham_is_yummy

Warnings: Angst, Death, Violence, Blood, Pre-BBY, No happy ending >:)

Mandalorian x GN! Reader

Word Count: 3760 (You're both in your early to mid twenties. dialogue sucks. also i'm sorry in advance)

Translations: Labes = Blur (Latin) | Cyar'ika = Sweetheart (Mando'a) | Ner me'sen = My Star (starship technically but it was the closest thing i could find (Mando'a) | Jate jate'kara = Good luck (Mando'a) |

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The Labes.

A blur in the night, the busy streets, the haze of noon, the scent of drugs, the midst of sleep, the lure to death.

They knew your name all too well. At least, the one they gave you.

Your face was never certain, your voice unidentifiable, your skill unquestionable, and your reputation always managing to grow into it's legend.

You never hid yourself, never downplayed your talents, your work, your wealth.

You were The Labes. Untouchable. Invincible. Too fast for anyone to see, let alone catch. And you made sure they knew it just as well as you screamed it from the rooftops.

You were the best person to hire no matter the situation. You always got out with what you wanted, never leaving until you did what was needed.

You were the best in the business, and despite so many wanting your skills and attention, just as many wanted you dead.

So they sent a Mandalorian after your trail, the victory soon to come sweet and savory at the mere image of your limp body hauled to their table, the loss of credits well worth the end of your reign.

But you remembered their failure all too vividly.

The moment you caught word of a Mandalorian nearby, you made sure to catch a peek, unaware of his mission.

He moved swiftly like the breeze, his gaze set like a predator, his cape swaying like a flag, his steps quick like a flash, the tracking fob at his belt thrumming like an annoying drum.

And the closer you crept, the more you noticed its inevitable presence.

And so the chase began.

He was confused by the devices sporadic flickering, beeping like the wings of an insect one second and lulling in with the tide the next. Many things ran through his mind like a whirlwind, but one was always at the front of his mind.

Where the kriff were you?

And I'm sure you're wondering the same, dear reader, but to answer it simply; always just one step ahead. Maybe four.

Whether it be by chasing the leaves skidding on rooftops or yowling cats in alleyways, you never let the warrior out of your sight. Giggling to yourself in the shadows, you watched his confusion boil to frustration, his fist banging the fob against his palm in hopes of righting whatever wrong had messed with it.

It did him no good.

Letting the sun fall from the sky and enjoying the debut of the moon, his efforts weren't all in vain. You see, you liked to play with your prey, but when your pursuer grew tired, you became all too bored. And the Mandalorian was just about ready to turn around and demand why his client supplied him a faulty tracker.