Din Djarin x Reader One-Shots

A Father's Touch

Requested by @thatonefandomdude :)

Warnings: Mentions/talk of abuse, Mentions of past SA, PTSD, Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Injuries, Violence, FLUFF, HUGS (I'll actually edit it later for now enjoy)

Mando x Buff! Son! Reader

Word count: 6269 (I didn't wanna say child since the reader is like 18 soooo here! this is way longer than I thought it would be too wow also sorry it took fucing forever TvT Also also I've never been abused so any reactions or anything like that that is inaccurate I'm so sorry if I can fix something plz let me know stay safe guys ily<3 )

Translation: Ad = Son (Mando'a) | Ad'ika = Kid/Child/Little One (Mando'a) | Buir = Father (Mando'a) |

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You grappled with the bounty, holding on tight as he fell back and sent you both rolling down the rocky hill on the desert planet.

Squeezing your eyes shut as dust flew around you and tucking your head down to prevent a further concussion, you rolled a few final times before forcing your legs on either side of the alien and holding the bulk of your forearm against his throat with half of your weight.

Choking and clawing at your arms, you scowled and pressed harder, leveling your grip when he tried to buck you off. It didn't take long for his eyes to roll into the back of his head, all fight leaving him as he went unconscious.

Sighing and hanging your head, you released his trachea of your weight and leaned back, rolling out the creeks in your neck from the tumble. Giving your shoulders a good shake, you get to your feet and lean back to crack your lower back with a groan before kneeling right back down and hefting the man's dead weight over your head and across your shoulders, holding him by the halter clipped around his torso and the one around his thigh. He was fairly light, but that was to be expected with thieves on the run. They didn't always have a reliable income of food.

Steadily standing back up, you slowly looked back up at the hill and annoyance bubbled beneath your skin. Huffing like a child, you just kept reminding yourself that the guy already had the stuff you were after in his backpack, and you didn't have to carry one more thing yourself. You grew to care less and less by the time you made it to the campsite you'd found him at. Four klicks away from the ship.

Motherfucker.

So to motivate you instead, you kept in mind the months worth of food and a new knife worth of pay for the son of a bitch on your back.

Trekking uphill was a challenge with all the running you'd done to catch the guy, but you managed, taking a minute to breath before continuing in the direction of Mando's ship.

You'd been living with the Mandalorian for just over a year now, travelling and helping out with jobs. Working with the bounty hunter and dragging around cargo built up the muscle you'd lacked for the first seventeen years of your life living on the streets. Now, even though you were barely eighteen, you'd often been mistaken as a man in his twenties with the muscles bulking your arms and stubble coming in. But in your business, with age came experience, so it ended up working in your favor when others assumed things about you. While you didn't fight if you didn't have to, everyone you met was too wary to pick a fight.

Not to mention the infamous man in beskar always by your side.

That did not, however, stop the bounties from running.

Jostling the perp over your shoulders and eliciting a pained groan from his subconscious, you smirked, scrunching your nose to lift the mask over the lower half of your face to keep out sand and bugs.