#grogu fluff

[grogusmum]

I wish you would write a fic where... there is a lot of fluff for baby Grogu that all the characters you wrote for would be jealous of that insane level of fluff. And your readers will scream and cry and throw everything to be in your fic and beg 1% of that fluff.

I know you will do it.

Hahaha! Dawnie, now I am imagining my Pedro Boys all bumping each other raising their hands saying "pick me, pick me", jockeying to be first in line for some super fluffy story, and then looking disappointedly down at Grogu who is actually first (except, of course, Din who is looking like a proud papa)

So what kind of super fluffy story, though, I've already put him in so many fluffy situations??

Oh! How about Grogu (in my A Galaxy Far Far Away AU) being put in charge of taking care of the hens all on his own?

Maybe reader is going on a trip, and Din and Grogu are at Juniper cottage for a weekend on their own for the first time.

Grogu waddles out to the hen house and picks up the little wire egg basket, and finds the latch too high.

Din is watching from the window this first time, making sure he his doing okay, and just when Din starts to move to go help him, Grogus little hand reaches out, his eyes close and his wars lower in concentration... suddenly, the latch pops up, and the door opens a couple inches. Din watches his son clamber inside anssmiles with pride at Grogus problem solving skills.

Inside the hen house is warm and dry, he knows you cleaned the hay and bedding before you left, so the little child says good morning to each hen, just like you do and thanks each one as he puts his little hand under them to get to the eggs in their nesting boxes. He giggles at their tickle feathers, and they cluck in their soft, friendly way.

Because they are friends and have an Egg Agreement.

Grogu feeds them, cleans out, and fills their waterer, just as he has seen you do. Using the force when he can't reach things, like the water spigot. Then he opens their little door so they can walk around in the yard.

After his chores a complete Grogu looks around feeling pretty proud of himself. Then decides he want to go out the hens little door instead of the big door.

Din and Seamus, the dog have stepped out into the yard in time to see Grogu push himself through and toddle down the ramp. He hugs Clara, the Rhode Island red (his favorite, because he likes to sit on him) when the others see Grugo giving out such gentle hugs they all come over for one, Grogu coos and giggles as they jockey for his sweet affection.

"I wish you would write a fic where..." asks

[0funkyducky0]

𐐪𐑂 Grogu 𐐪𐑂

Grogu will be your son, brother or nephew in all fan fics.

𐐪𐑂 Fluff 💝

[orcasoul]

Broken Part 3

Summary: Din is on the brink of death. The only way to save him is to remove his helmet. Surely he'll understand and forgive you... right?

Warnings: Swearing, description of injuries, angst, established relationship, use of Y/N.

A/N: the amount of comments and re-blogs for the first two parts of this story has blown me away. Thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to read this, and for all the love and support.

Word Count: 5,503

The world ceased to exist for Din the moment he saw your limp body sprawled on the floor. All that remains now is you; all that matters is you. He doesn't even remember closing the gap to get to you. One second he's frozen with fear and the next he's at your side, cradling your face in both hands. "Cyar'ika? Sweetheart, can you hear me?! Can you open your eyes?!" The tremble in Din's hands have now moved to his vocal chords, each word laced with worry and regret. "Come on, sweet girl. I need you to open your eyes." Din begs, gently tapping your cheek, but you give no response.

He's sure your eyes were open a moment ago.... or maybe it was wishful thinking, his mind conjuring up the image to give him hope. Ripping a glove off, he feels for your pulse. You're alive but your pulse is... wrong. It's much too fast. That combined with the trembling and sweat soaking your skin, it can only mean one thing; a blood infection. Din pulls up your blood encrusted shirt and gently removes your makeshift bandage to reveal an inflamed and angry looking blaster wound. "Dank farrick!" Din curses under his breath.

He'd had his fair share of infected wounds throughout the years, so he knows just how bad this can get. Guilt begins to consume him, the intensity threatening to drag him down into a pit of despair. He caused this. This is his fault. He'd abandoned you when all you did was love him. And now, this is what you have to show for that love. He'll never forgive himself if you... nope, that won't happen. "It's okay, Cyare. I've got you, I've got you," Din whispers as puts his glove on, then slides an arm under your back and the other under your knees.

He stands slowly with you, not wanting to aggravate your wound and tucks your head into his chest. A pained moan wheezes past your blue tinted lips. "Kriff, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Din's heart sinks at hearing you in pain, hoping you'll never have to make that sound again. You won't if he has his way. "I'm gonna get you help and then I'm taking you home," Din promised, then ran from the cave and back towards the village.

By the time he got close to the village, Din could barely walk. Almost an hour of continuous running had pretty much pushed him to the edge of his endurance. But every second was critical, so he'd pushed and pushed his now exhausted body, ignoring the protest of his lungs, his limbs and his back. He almost cried with relief when entering the village, falling to his knees and holding you tight. "Help! Somebody help her, quick!" Din screamed as loud as he could.

A group of villagers ran to where Din had collapsed, a few of them quickly taking you from his arms and into a large hut, while yelling at others to find the village doctor. "Where are... they... taking her?" Din asked, breathlessly. "Medical bay," a man answered, as he and another man helped Din to his feet, each draping his arms over their shoulders. "They'll take good care of her, promise." Din straightened, nodded his thanks to the men and on wobbly legs followed you into the hut.

Din felt utterly useless as he sat and watched the doctor and nurses tend to you. He wants to help, every instinct screaming at him to do something, but he can't. All he can do is sit and stare numbly at your deathly pale face and slowly rising chest. You've never looked so fragile before and it takes all of his willpower to not fall apart right then and there. He silently observes the medical team as they hook you up to a drip and monitor (courtesy of the New Republic, along with a generator and more modern equipment) and clean and stitch the wound on your side.

And in all this time you haven't even flinched. Was he too late? Do you even have the strength left to survive this? Din is pulled from his anxious thoughts by a hand on his shoulder and a soft but professional voice addressing him. "Mando?..." the doctor began, waiting until Din's helmet turned his way. "We've closed the wound and administered antibiotics to fight the infection. She's lost a lot of blood and is very weak. We're trying to bring her temperature down to a safe level, but all we can do now is wait. It's up to her now; she has to fight it."

"I understand," Din replied sorrowfully. "Thank you for everything." "Of course," the doctor nodded and lightly squeezed Din's shoulder. "We'll give you some privacy." He cocked his head at the nurses, silently gesturing for them to follow him. Din sat beside you, at a loss for words. How could he have let this happen? If he hadn't been so closed minded, so damn stubborn and proud, if he'd just talked things through with you as you'd begged him to do, you wouldn't be here now, fighting for your life. You'd saved his life and he'd almost cost you yours. He doesn't deserve your forgiveness. But if by some miracle, you do forgive him and give him another chance, he'll never take you for granted and never leave you again, no matter what.

Din removes his gloves, desperately needing to feel you, skin to skin. Taking your smaller hand in his, he closes his eyes and just allows himself to feel. The softness of your skin, the warmth, the ridges of your knuckles. How he'd missed you! "Cyar'ika, I don't know if you can hear me..." Din murmured, guilt eating him alive, "But if you can, I want you to know how sorry I am for everything I've put you through. For everything I said. I was wrong and stupid. I want to make things right, so you have to fight. I know you can; I know how strong you are. Just... don't give up." Din prays you can hear him, but if you can, your still body shows no sign of recognition.

Sweat trickles down your forehead due to your fever. Din reaches into a bucket of iced water set beside your bed and rings out a cloth, placing it on your forehead. "Can we come in?" Din looks over his shoulder to see Omera and Winta by the entrance of the hut. With a silent nod, he beckons them in. They stand on the opposite side of the bed, Omera holding your other hand, while Winta leans down to lay her head by yours, arm slung over your chest in a gentle hug. "Is she gonna be okay now?" Winta looks at Din, eyes full of hope. Her expectant and pleading expression brings a crushing weight of uncertainty to settle inside Din's chest, because honestly, he doesn't know.

"Um..." Din clears his throat, "I hope so. It's too early to tell right now, but the doctors and nurses are doing all they can for her. Only time will tell." "What happened?" Omera asked through held back tears. Din looked from Omera to Winta and back to Omera again. Omera, understanding what Din is trying to silently convey - that this is not something a child should hear - gently places her hand on Winta's shoulder and asks her to wait outside. Winta places a kiss on your cheek and leaves. Omera takes a seat beside the bed. "Tell me," she urges, softly. "I found her..." Din's tone becomes frustrated, "Bleeding to death on a kriffing cave floor! She was all alone. I never should have left her; this is all my fault." Admitting it out loud just makes Din even more angry with himself.

"It's not your fault," Omera insists. "You couldn't have known this was going to happen." "But she shouldn't have been here inthe first place. She should have been home with me, safe." A moment of awkward silence passes before Din asks, "Did... she tell you what happened?" "Yes," Omera nodded. Din sighed. "I failed her." "You're here now. That's what matters. I'm not taking sides here, you're both my friends, but you should know she hasn't been herself since you left, more like she's been a shell of herself. She's missed you, so much. You and Grogu are her life. She's been so lost without you both."

Omera's words hit Din more brutally than that Mudhorn did back on Arvala - 7. He thought he couldn't feel any worse, but he was wrong. "Dank farrick!" Din swore, quietly, feeling sick at the thought of what he's done to you. "I... I don't know how to make this right." Din's shoulders slump in defeat. "Start by being here for her now. That's all you can do... until she wakes up," Omera offered, sympathetically. Din nodded. "Thank you for looking after her." Omera looked at you with a sad smile. "There's no need to thank me. She's family." Din's heart warmed at Omera affection for you. Gripping your hand tighter, he looks at your peaceful face and with conviction he replies, "Yes, she is."

The nurse returned a few minutes later to check on you. Omera took her leave - not wanting to impose - telling Din she's here for him if he needs her. Din held onto your hand the entire time the nurse fussed about you. "Hmm... her temperature's still a little high," she frowned, "Other than that, she seems to be doing okay." Din didn't get a chance to respond as your hand suddenly tightened around his and your whole body began to violently convulse. "What's-" "She's having a seizure!" the nurse exclaimed, grabbing an extra pillow to place above your head so you don't hit it on the headboard.

Din shot to his feet, ready to hold you, to comfort you. "Don't touch her!" the nurse warned. "You could hurt her if you try to restrict her movements." "Well... what do we do?!" Din shouted, feeling like he's about to lose his damn mind. "She just has to go through it I'm afraid. She's fitting because of the fever. These seizures look frightening, but they're normally quite harmless," the nurse reassured. As if that's any comfort right now. After what felt like an eternity - but was only a couple of minutes, according to the nurse - your jolting body began to calm until you were still once again.

Din released a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. The nurse checked your vitals again. "She stable now. I'll come back to check on her in an hour," she informed Din with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, before leaving the hut. As soon as the coast was clear, Din ripped his helmet off, dropping it by his feet without regard. He quickly but gently placed both hands on your cheeks and rested his forehead against yours, his tears dripping onto your face. "Don't you ever frighten me like that again! Do you hear me?!... Never again." The last two words came out in a choked whisper. Din kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips. "Please my love, don't leave me."

Din winced internally the second those words left his mouth; those very same words that had been haunting him in his sleep. The last words you had said to him. Din reached for the cloth that had fallen on the floor during your fit, dunked it in the bucket and placed it back on your forehead before reaching for his helmet. He knows anyone could walk in at any moment, so it's best not to tempt fate. He places it back on and for the first time since taking the creed the helmet feels like a barrier instead of a comfort, the inch of Beskar separating you feeling more like a thousand miles.

The next several hours went by in a surreal blur for Din as he watched the doctor and nurses taking care of you, and also watching you for any indication of waking. They were even kind enough to bring him food since he never left the hut. The evening drifted into night, the whole village becoming quieter as everyone settled into their homes. Din remained glued to your bedside, politely refusing the offer of a hut to rest in.

He will not be more than a few feet away from you. A nurse assured him no one would enter again until morning - unless in case of an emergency, of course - so he can remove his helmet if he wishes. Din prepared himself to sit vigil with you all night. He took off his helmet and breathed deeply. If you wake tonight, his face is the first thing he wants you to see.

Sound is the first thing you notice, crickets chirping distantly, a strange beeping and... a voice? It sounds distorted, the words not making any sense to you. An involuntary whimper escapes you as you try to move your head, which at this moment, feels like a ten tonne boulder. In your hazy state, you feel something touching your face, smoothing featherlight strokes across you cheek. The voice is becoming louder, clearer as your mind begins to catch up with your body. It sounds familiar and you use it as a beacon to hone in on. Your eyelids fight against your will to open but you finally manage to do so, only to be met with blurry vision.

A few more blinks and your vision clears, focusing on the once blurry figure hovering over you. A face, but not just any face. Brown eyes, vulnerable and cautious, but also filled with relief and tenderness stare back at you. Brown floppy locks drape over his forehead and salt and pepper stubble adorn his jaw. You are completely taken aback. Are you dead? Or is your mind playing another cruel trick on you? "Hi, Cyare..." a voice you never thought you'd hear again whispers lovingly. It's that which snaps you from your stupor, confirming that you are alive and he's here!

"Din?!" your voice croaks harshly from disuse, scraping your throat on the way out. "Shhh..." Din continues to smooth the apple of your cheek. "Try not to speak Y/N? You're safe now." Your eyes shoot around the room, confusion and panic overtaking your senses. "You're in the village..." Din's low timbre brings an instant calm to you. "You're going to be okay." You try to get up but a sharp pain flashes through your torso causing you to gasp. Din's hands are pressed to your shoulders, gently but firmly holding you down, "Don't move. You'll tear the stitches," he tells you. Stitches? Then it all comes back to you; the attack on the village, the blaster shot and the cave.

Your eyes fall on Din's again and you panic. "Oh shit!" you gasp, weakly and shut your eyes tight, turning your head away. "Y...your helmet! Where's your helmet?!" Your heart beats wildly in your chest, guilt and alarm filling you once more. Maybe he forgot to put it back on, and now I've broken his creed, again! You bite your lower lip in worry, awaiting the inevitable chastisement... only it never comes. "Y/N?" Din's bare hand cups your jaw, turning your head to face him. "It's okay, look at me." You remain frozen, eyelids firmly locked in place, unsure of what you should do. "Please, Cyar'ika..." Din's voice is calm, soothing. "Open your eyes. I want you to see me."

It was with trepidation you slowly opened your eyes, Din's warm smile instantly easing your anxiety. Heaven's that smile! It would have floored you if you'd hadn't already been laying down. "There you are," Din said warmly. Too much is happening to fast for you to comprehend. "Din?... What?... How?" you stutter after every word, a part of you still unable to believe he's here. "I came for you, "Din interjected with purpose. "When I heard what happened, I couldn't get here fast enough. And when I couldn't find you I..." Din's voice shuddered, "I thought I'd lost you forever. I was so afraid."

The raw devastation of Din's voice along with the wretched fear in his eyes stabbed you right through the heart, releasing a torrent of tears; tears of heartbreak, of frustration, of relief and of love all mixed together in one huge outpouring of emotion. At once, Din's hands found your cheeks and he lowered his forehead to yours. "I am so so sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I was a fool. I love you." He gently pressed his lips to yours and, even though he'd hurt you, you found yourself wrapping your arms around his keck, returning the kiss and holding him close. "I love you, too." You couldn't deny it, deny him. You didn't want to.

Din slowly pulled his lips from yours, placing a delicate kiss to your forehead. "You should rest now, Cyare. Your body needs it. We'll talk more when you're stronger." "Wait!" You grip Din's wrist in panic. "You're not leaving, right?! You'll be here when I wake up?" Din smiled and kissed the back of your hand. "I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart, I promise." With that reassurance, you allow yourself to drift off once more.

When you awoke again it was to the poking and prodding of fingers checking your pulse, you temperature and your wound. "How are you feeling Y/N?" a kind older voice asked. "Mmm... thirsty..." you cough as your parched throat sticks together. Din appears immediately, holding a cup of water and a straw in front of you so you don't have to move. "Well, the good news is you're going to be fine," the doctor says, encouragingly. "And the bad news?...." you question, cautiously. "The injury you sustained was quite deep, so you'll have to take it easy for several weeks while you're healing. I know how you like to keep yourself busy," he adds with an apologetic look. "When you're feeling up to it I'll get you some soup. He places a hand on your shoulder and you thank him before he leaves.

Moments later a soft hiss turn your focus to Din as he removes his helmet. Your first thought is to shut your eyes and turn away, but you stop yourself. Din wants you to see him and, damn it, you want to see him too. The other two times you had seen him had been under dire circumstances but now... now you get to really see him and he takes your breath away. Your eyes trace every slope and contour of his features, taking your time to really appreciate just how devastatingly handsome he is. It feels wrong that he's had to hide such beauty for most of his life. Din offers a sheepish smile. "Hi," he breathes out quietly. It's obvious he's been in great emotional turmoil as he looks at you filled with remorse and with teary eyes.

"You stayed," you sigh in relief. "Of course I did," asserted Din, as if the thought of him doing anything other than stay is ludacris. "I told you I'm not going anywhere." You couldn't help but begin to cry again. Din brought a hand to your face, gently wiping your tears. "Hey, hey, you're okay." he whispered, fighting back his own tears. It kills him to see you in this state. "It's okay. Let it out. I've got you, I've got you." He so badly wants to gather you into his arms and tuck you into his chest as you fall apart, but he can't move you yet so he settles for resting his forehead against yours again. "I was... so...f...frightened!" you whimper between sobs, gripping onto his wrists for comfort. Hearing such intense fear in your words finally broke Din. His sobs joined yours, unashamedly.

"I don't know where to even begin," he choked out, "I'm so sorry.... fuck," he huffed at himself, sitting back to look you in the eyes. "I know that's not enough. There are no words to express just how sorry I am. I hurt you, and not just you, but Grogu too. I hurt the two most important people in my life. What kind of man does that?!" You can feel the self loathing radiating off of Din and it's agonising to witness. Before you can offer any comfort, Din continues, "I was so caught up in my dedication to The Way of the Mandalore that I refused to accept your perspective. I refused to see anything beyond the creed." Din hung his head in shame. "I was wrong and for that I'll always be sorry."

Wow! You weren't expecting that. The creed is everything to DIn, so for him to put you before it shows you just how much he must still love you. "What made you change your mind?" you ask in bewilderment. Din looked back to you and chuckled, lightly. "I had some sense knocked into me by Karga. He said some things I needed to hear." The corner of your mouth ticks up in an amused smirk. "I guess I owe him one." Both of your smiles faded as the tension still lingered. "How's Grogu?" You fight to keep from choking up again at the thought of him. Din rubs the back of his neck. "He's uh... he's okay, but he's missed you terribly."

Your heart aches for your poor liittle boy. "I missed him too, both of you. Is he here?" "No, he's with Karga. I didn't want to bring him in case..." Din trailed off, bile rising up his throat at the thought of finishing that sentence. Even though you feel the sting of disappointment, you nod in understanding. The last thing you want is for Grogu to see you like this. As long as he's okay, that'll be comfort enough for now. Do you need anything?" Din asks, breaking the silence that has fallen again. "Yeah. Could you help me sit up?" "You shouldn't move," Din insists, worry lacing his voice. "Please?..." you shift awkwardly, "I just need to change position."

Reluctantly Din nodded and stood over you, threading his arms under yours and around your back. Stars! You've missed his touch, the comforting warmth of his body against yours, even through his armour. "Easy now," Din cautioned as he carefully lifts you to a sitting position. You suck in sharply through your teeth as a sudden sharp pain spreads through your side. You feel Din tense in in response. "I'm okay," you reassure him. Din sat you back against the headboard and sat on the edge of the bed. "No, you're not okay. Nothing about this is okay. Not the way I treated you or the things I said. Dank farrick.! You almost died because of me!"

Din is on the verge of completely losing it. The only other time you'd seen him like this was when Grogu was taken by the Dark Troopers. "Din." You grab his hand, holding tight to ground him. "This isn't your fault. No one could have foreseen this." Din shook his head vehemently, unwilling to accept your words. "I should never have left you here. You should have been with me. Kriff, when I think back to the things I said to you..." Din lifts his head t the ceiling, rolls his eyes back and sighs. "It was cruel and I was wrong. I trust you. I was just so blinded by my arrogance, but deep down, I guess I understood why you had to remove my helmet. I just wouldn't admit it to myself, so I lashed out at you."

Din's fingers tighten around yours. "The truth is, if it were the other way around and you were hurt, I'd do the same thing." "Oh, Din." Tears burn your eyes as he lays his soul bare. "Can I ask you something?" "Of course, Cyare." Din smoothes the back of your hand, a silent gesture for you to continue. "Why now? Why are you allowing me to see you now? What about the creed? I know it's important to you." " It is," Din agreed, 'But you are far more important, and I wanted to show you just how important you are to me." You have no words, your eyes and heartfelt smile telling him what you cannot put into words. "I uh... I don't expect you to forgive me right now, I don't deserve it. But if you'll come home with me, I'll wait for as long as you need to-"

"Shhh..." you press a finger to Din's lips and look into his brown puppy dog eyes with tenderness. "I've already forgiven you, Ner Karta." Din is stunned! "W... what? Why?" He can't comprehend why you're so willing to forgive him, after all the pain he's caused. You reach over to stroke his cheek, feeling the rough stubble tickle your fingertips. "Back in the cave... I'd accepted I was going to die," you sniffle as you remember the feeling of despair that came with said acceptance. "All I could think about were you and Grogu, and I realised... I didn't want to die being angry with you. I wanted to go with only love in my heart, so in that moment I chose to forgive you."

Din exhaled as if he'd been punched in the chest. He's in complete awe of you. He'd hurt you beyond measure, almost gotten you killed and you still found it in your heart to forgive him. "I don't deserve your forgiveness," he mumbled in disgust at himself, eyes cast down. "I don't deserve you." You gently hook your fingers under his chin, lifting his head up so that you're looking into each others eyes. "Yes you do," you declare with certainty, "Everyone deserves a second chance, Cayare." Din closed his hand over yours resting on his cheek and, pulling it away, brushed a soft kiss on your palm. "I promise I will never hurt you like that again. No matter what problems come our way, we'll handle them together." "Together," you repeated breathily.

Din stared longingly into you eyes for a moment, then leaned into your face and you met him halfway, your lips joining in a delicate sweep, gently at first but becoming more intense as the seconds passed. His hands slowly slide up your arms and around your back, pulling you closer as he groaned into your now open mouth, his tongue caressing yours. You loop your arms around his neck, relishing in the familiar taste and feel you've been needing but denied for so long. It's as if an invisible weight has been lifted from your soul, all the anguish and sorrow floating away into the ether. In it's place; love, relief and the promise of renewal. You feel reborn. You slowly pull away from Din's plush lips, bury your head in the crook of his neck and breathe in his scent of leather, gunpowder and something uniquely him.

Everything around you stills as you hold each other and just exist in this moment. "I love you so much," Din purrs into your ear. "I love you too," you reply, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I promise..." Din begins, straightening up and tucking your hair behind your ear, "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you." You chuckle quietly and shake your head. "That's not what I want." Din looks at you, confusion crinkling his brow. "I don't want you to live in guilt everyday. All I want is my family back and to move on from this. Can I have that?" Din's features soften and he smiles in understanding. "Meshla, you can have anything you want."

You pull din in for another kiss, this time a bit more forcefully. His eyes widen and he chuckles in response. Din finishes the kiss with little pecks to your nose, making you giggle. "Din?" "Mmm?" "Did you mean it?" Din tilted his head in question. You've seen him do that often with his helmet on and seeing him do it now without it is adorable. "Mean what?" "That I can have anything I want?" "Anything!" he declared with passion, holding onto your arms. You throw him a cheeky grin. "Can you get me some soup? I'm starving."

Din's shoulders relaxed and he laughed endearingly. "Of course. I'll be right back." He put on his helmet and walked to the entrance, stopping to look at you once more before leaving. Slumping back you lean your head against the headboard and sigh happily in sheer relief. It's over. This whole nightmare is finally over and in the past where it belongs. Your heart is finally at peace.

Two days later you're given the all clear by the doctor. As you finish packing your belongings into your bag a pair of strong arms wrap around your body in a loving embrace. You lean your head back onto Din's shoulder pauldron, close your eyes and hum in contentment. "All packed, Cyarika?" "All packed," you beam as you turn in his arms and plant a kiss on his helmet. "I almost forgot..." Din reaches into a pocket, your jaw dropping as he pulls out your beaded bracelet (now cleaned from dirt and blood). With a gasp you take it, looking it over in disbelief. "I found it not too far from the cave." "I thought I'd lost it," you exclaim, voice cracking with emotion. "Thank you!"

You slide it onto your wrist and wrap your arms around Din's waist, hugging him tightly. Din brings his hand to the back of your head, gently stroking your hair. "I can't wait to hold Grogu again," you gush into Din's chest. "He'll be overjoyed to have his mother back." You lift your head from his chest, your eyes gleaming with excitement. "Does he know I'm coming home? Have you told him?" A small chuckle came through the vocoder. "No, I thought we'd surprise him." You couldn't contain the massive grin that spread from cheek to cheek as you imagine the soon to be reunion with your son.

Just as you turn to reach for your bag, Din grabs it, slinging it over his shoulder. "I can carry the bag. It's not heavy," you protest teasingly with your hands on your hips. "Your not carrying anything until you're fully healed." You know that finality in his tone too well. "Bossy!" you roll your eyes in jest. "Yep," Din replied, popping the P for emphasis. He wrapped his arm around you and under your arm to support you, since walking is still slow and painful for you. Outside the hut a group of people had come to see the two of you off. Omera and Winta held onto you like there was no tomorrow.

"I never would have gotten through the last month without you," you whispered to Omera, trying to hold back your tears. "You're the best friend I've ever had." "Promise you'll visit us soon," Omera pressed. "I Promise," you smiled. "Will you bring Grogu with you?" Winta asked, excitedly. "Do you really think he'd allow me to come without him?" you laughed fondly as you pictured his little face. Winta giggled and you pulled them both into another hug. "I'll miss you both so much." "We'll miss you too," Omera said sadly. While saying your goodbyes and thanks to the others, Din approached Omera. "Thank you," Din exclaimed, "For everything. For being there for her." He knows he owes Omera a debt he can never repay.

"Of course," she smiled softly at him. "I'm just so glad you two could work things out." "Me too," Din smiled to himself. He looked down at Winta and patted her head affectionately, "Take care, you two." Din walked over to you, placing his hand at the small of your back. "Ready?" You smile and nod and Din holds onto you gently yet firmly as you slowly make your way to the the Razor Crest. Oh, how you've missed this big hunk of junk! You settle in the co-pilot's seat in the cockpit, the smells and sounds you'd taken for granted welcoming you back in their own way, and you take a moment to appreciate everything around you, even the way Din so expertly prepares the controls for take off.

Din turns to you, lacing his fingers through yours on your lap. "You ready to go home, Meshla?" he asks you, lovingly. You smile, placing your other hand over his. "I'm ready." Din returns to the controls, somehow managing to pilot the ship one handed while still holding your hand. The Crest rattles and shakes as it ascends, every minute bringing you closer to home, closer to Grogu. Silent tears begin to fall, but for the first time in a long time, the tears are not of sadness, but of joy.

@picketniffler @johnssherlock221 @nicolebarnes

[kraftykelpie]

A surprise (not really) to be sure, but a welcome one

There is a saucy precursor to this one (the night before, after Grogu had gone to sleep, and before he clambered into their bed the next morning to beg for eggs), just don't know how evil Tvmb1r will be about my posting it

Also their legs are all tangled up under the sheets. Din treats Luke like a space heater, and Luke is very tactile (he's tactile when awake but he's moreso when out cold)

[ominouspuff]

REQUESTS / BLOG EVENT

From @lunaemoth, request 1 of 2 — Palette 2 - Din Djarin + Grogu - Bubbles

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

Okay so like, I’ve never requested anything so I don’t really even expect you to see this lol. But likeeee, can I possibly request a Din Djarin x reader, where neither the reader or Din know Grogu has the armor under his robe that the armorer gave him, and something happens where Grogu gets hurt and they both lose their minds before getting to him and realizing little dude is just fine. Please and thank you 🥹

Ooooh this is a good prompt. Speaking of, if you've asked for one then it's probably on my to-do list, but i am slow🤡. plus, updates of AFS and a couple other things come before random drabbles.

Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k (i dont think I'm capable of writing less than a thousand words apparently smh)

AT FAULT

"don't let fear make your decisions." -Michael G. Manning

The quarry was laid on his back as a pool of purple blood began to settle in the sand under him. The twi'lek was motionless and your breathing was finally starting to calm. In one arm you held Grogu who seemed nonplussed by the violence at hand and in your other you held the still smoking blaster. When you managed to tear your eyes off the quarry's body they lifted to land on Din who stood stiff on the other side of the body.

"What the kriff was that?" Din snapped. His entire body was drawn taut like a wired rope pulled to tight. He was nearly vibrating in place and the anger that leaked into his voice was palpable. "Karking⏤ what the hell do you think you're doing out here!?"

His tone made your already irritable mood worse. You stuck the rarely used blaster back into the holster at your thigh. "Apparently, saving you! Maybe show a little gratitude!"

"Grati⏤” The word wasn’t even able to leave Din’s mouth. He stormed forward, boots passing the dead quarry, until he stood right in front of you. Close enough that the Mandalorian was forcing you to tilt your head up to look at him. You knew he stood that close on purpose⏤ he wanted to tower over you right now. “The two of you could’ve gotten killed! I told you not to leave the Razor Crest!”

“We’ve been on that ship for two weeks straight, Din!” You argued. “We just wanted a little fresh air⏤”

“I told you this quarry was dangerous, I said⏤”

“All your quarries are dangerous, Din. You⏤”

“When I tell you to stay on the damn ship,” Din grabbed your by the arm not holding Grogu, “I expect you to kriffing listen. Dank farrik, cyar’ika.” The way he spat out your usual nickname made you wince. “I told you this quarry was bad news⏤”

“And I told you that you shouldn't have taken the bounty!” You yelled and tried to yank your arm free. Din held on tight, and Grogu began to babble worriedly in your arms. “I told you we should take a break! Take a breath! We all need it, even you. Especially, you!”

You yanked your arm back again and this time it broke free. Din settled on placing his hands on his hips, but you could still feel his anger radiating off of him. Tempers had been running high the last few weeks, stuck on a close quarter ship while stressing over the Empire being on your heels, and it seemed the two of you were finally letting it come to a head. 

“It’s naive of you to think we have the time for a break.” Din seethed. “I take bounties so we can afford fuel to run, food to eat, and⏤” He shook his head, taking in a sharp breath before continuing. “You tell me to show you gratitude? Gratitude because you risked yours and Grogu’s life for me?” Din took one step toward you and you took two steps back so he stayed a foot or so away. He pointed to himself. “Everything I do, my only priority, is keeping you and Grogu safe. Away from the Empire. So, how about you show a little gratitude and stay on the damn ship when I tell you to.”

Grogu whined in your arms and you shifted him to the other in a poor attempt to console him. You weren’t ready to climb onto the Razor Crest quite yet. You weren’t done with this fight. Din’s anger and words only spurring you on further.

“You think I’m not grateful for all you do?” You spat. “Of course, I am, you ass! I just hate watching you burn yourself into the ground for us. You need to take care of yourself too, Din. That involves taking a break now and then! That’s why I suggested leaving this bounty untouched. I just want to help.”

Din nodded once then tilted his head. “Right. Yeah. Putting Grogu and yourself at risk was a lot of help. I feel much better. Thank you, cyar’ika.”

You scoffed, “You know what, Din? You are⏤”

The sound of an unfamiliar chuckle and your eyes snapped from the dark t-shape visor to the quarry sitting up with a menacing grin. It took less than a second. It happened so quickly that your mind couldn’t register the movements fast enough.

A blaster raised.

A blaster fired.

And, you didn’t have the time to spin away. The force of the blaster bolt knocked you right off your feet and onto the ground. 

You heard Din scream, the sound hoarse and raw and broken, then you heard another blaster go off. As you laid on your back, you realized you weren’t hurting. Your back was a little sore from landing on it, but you didn’t feel the sharp burning pain of a blaster scorching through your skin. That’s when your brain finally clicked. That’s when you realized. Grogu. Oh, Maker. Grogu. Grogu, baby⏤ Your eyes snapped down to see the little boy’s eyes closed and the front of his robe was blackened from the blow.

The scream that filled the air this time was yours. You felt the sound reverberate in the base of your throat, it rattled your chest, but the only noise you could hear was the racing heartbeats that pounded in your ears. You sat up, cradling him to your chest, and you could feel gloved hands pawing at your arms. Someone was trying to take him⏤ someone was trying to take him from you. You screamed once more, your body shook, and a gloved hand cupped the side of your face. Nothing registered until you saw Grogu blink his big eyes open. Your breath caught in your throat. That same gloved hand pulled aside Grogu’s ruined robe and the telltale shine of beskar stared back up at you. A mudhorn adorning the plate that Grogu wore at the center of his chest.

Grogu let out a soft mumble and smiled up at you. 

“Oh, thank the Maker.” Din breathed. “Cyar’ika. Cyar’ika? Cyari’ka!” A hand titled your face up, tearing your eyes away from Grogu who was wiggling in your tight grip. You met the dark t-shape visor of Din’s helmet. “Are you okay? Did it clip you? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head and opened your mouth, but all that came out was a ragged sob. Even after Din pulled you both into his arms, you continued to cry against his silver beskar plated chest until your own chest ached from how badly each sob racked your body. Grogu seemed content to be squashed between you and Din. 

Hours later, in the quiet of hyperspace, Din sat in the pilot’s chair with you on his lap, cradled against his body, while you held Grogu tight to yours. It seemed since the incident Din refused to let either of you go, and you had no desire to complain. Having his arms wrapped around you while you watched Grogu sleep was the safest you had ever felt.

“I’m so sorry, Cyar’ika.” Din whispered. His unmodulated words were muffled by the way he rested his face at the top of your head⏤ buried his lips into your hair to continue peppering light kisses anywhere he had access. In this position, your head tucked under his, you couldn’t see his face. “I am so, so sorry.”

You shook your head lightly. When you spoke, your voice was ragged from screaming earlier, “No, I am. I should’ve listened to you, Din. I should’ve stayed on the ship.” Your eyes began to water again. “I almost got Grogu killed.”

“No. No, that wasn’t your fault. Ner mesh'la cyar'ika, ibic hara cuyir pal'vut.” Din mumbled the end of his sentence in Mando’a. “You were right. I shouldn’t have taken that bounty. I can’t lose the two of you and I’ve grown… obsessive in trying to protect you.”

“It’s worked. You’ve kept us safe. If I had listened to you⏤”

“You’re not prisoners. I can’t lock you away from the world because of my fear.” Din cut in. You let your free hand trace down the small bridge of Grogu’s nose and he scrunched it up at the contact while staying soundly in his sleep. Nothing Din would say could rid you of this guilt entirely. If he wanted to claim the mistake he could, but that didn’t make it any less your fault as well. “Please speak to me.”

You closed your eyes and lifted your head so you could press a kiss against Din’s throat. He shuddered and sighed at the touch. “Can we just agree that this is both of our faults?”

“We can.” Din shrugged, his arms tightened around you. “But I'd rather you not take any of the blame.”

“Yes, well, unfortunately as we’ve learned, I’m not good at listening.” You mumbled.

Din chuckled. “Good. I don’t want you to blindly listen to me. Your ideas are equally as good as mind, if not occasionally better.” He closed the space to press a soft kiss against yours. It was sweet and tender. Not a declaration of lust or desire, but a reassurance that you were there. Din broke away to whisper. “But if you could at least let me know when you are leaving the ship, I’d appreciate it.”

“Only if you promise to take us somewhere pretty soon.”

“I’m already ahead of you, cyar’ika.” As he spoke, his lips brushed against yours and you had no desire to lean back away from him. Din moved his hand and you could feel his hand brush against the side of your arm every time he soothingly rubbed Grogu’s head. “Crest is on route to Naboo.”

You pressed another light peck of your lips against his before leaning your head back down against his chest. Din settled his head back on top of yours, and you felt the soft caress of his thumb against your arm from the hand that was wrapped around you. Din pulled you and Grogu a hair closer, and you reveled in the silence of hyperspace.

"Also, when did Grogu get a mudhorn beskar chestplate?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

mando'a translations

Ner mesh'la cyar'ika, ibic hara cuyir pal'vut. [My beautiful darling, this sin is mine.]

[deakyjoe]

Beaming Beskar

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader (no pronouns are used but he calls reader mesh'la meaning "beautiful")

Category: Fluff, friends to lovers (not explicitly stated but may make a part 2)

Summary: Din has a unique way of telling you when he's smiling at you.

Warnings: none really, fluff

Word Count: 800ish (a baby)

A/N: A short little fic to celebrate my journey of getting back into writing. Thank you to Pedro Pascal’s filmography for inspiring me. Also I'm in love with Din Djarin.

It had started when you had made a joke, something silly about the child being a wizard when he made his food float in the air, and a small huff of air had rattled through Din's modulator. Your head had immediately snapped towards him, utter shock rocketing through you. The Mandalorian barely acknowledged your existence, speaking a handful of words to you since you'd met him, and yet here he was... laughing at you. No, not at you. With you.

"I'm sorry, did you just find something I said funny?"

"I laughed, didn't I?" All amusement was gone from his voice almost instantly. You'd pushed it. Finally an opening with him and you'd already ruined it.

"It's hard to tell. You could've just been breathing loudly." You shrugged it off and turned back to the kid, not wanting to provoke him further. He could be temperamental and you never wanted to upset him, meaning you had to tread carefully with him sometimes. You rather liked the Mandalorian, despite him hardly seeming to care for you much. To be honest, you didn't think he cared for anything apart from the child. Which was understandable.

"I smiled." The statement seemed almost sad as he said it, a note of reservation in his voice.

You glanced back up at him, eyes flicking over the helmet for a moment. "I can't... I don't know when you're smiling."

Silence.

Maybe a question wouldn't hurt...

"Do you smile often?"

Hesitation. "Sometimes."

Okay, that was something. Now another question. Just to see how much you could get out of him.

"At me? At the kid?" You answered your own question. "Ooh, definitely at the kid."

"Both. Mostly the kid." He added the last part on quickly.

"Hm." You nodded though the slight crease between your brows gave more away that you intended. You craved knowing him. That was the only way to explain it. And when he gave you so little... it made things difficult.

Din spoke your name softly to get you to look at him again. When you did, he lifted his hand up and traced a line across his helmet. His index finger started on one side, down near where his chin or mouth would be, and drew a curved line across to the other side. A smile.

Your eyes lit up at the gesture and Din found himself smiling at you again. So he repeated the motion. Seeming elated at the idea, you scooted the crate you were sitting on closer to him so you were almost knee to knee.

Gazing up at him with this gorgeous sparkle in your eyes that had Din grinning beneath the Beskar, you asked him a simple question. "Can you do that every time you smile at me? Please?"

"Yes, mesh'la. Of course." The Mando'a term of endearment had slipped before he even had the chance to think about it. But how could he resist when you were looking at him like that?

You always regarded him with a certain glint in your stare, that was only ever brightened when you smiled, as if Din was the most wonderful thing you'd ever laid your eyes on. There was never any hint of hostility, forever open and joyful when you looked at him. And the smiles only ever confirmed this. But in that moment, with the way you were looking at him, Din could feel electricity pumping through his body. He felt alive. And... seen. It was almost like you were seeing straight through the armour and looking at him.

With your shoulders hunched and head ducked in embarrassment at the name he'd given you, you shot him another gorgeous smile that he returned. He loved making you smile. And he loved you making him smile, which you did more often than he ever wanted to admit.

So, naturally, he drew the line across his helmet again and revelled in the happiness that was practically radiating off of you in hot waves as you looked at him do it. The positive emotions must have been pouring out of you as the child began to babble and giggle as well, sensing the high spirits in the room.

The noises the green baby was making seemed to remind you that you were supposed to be helping him eat as you let out a surprised sound and moved back closer to him, struggling to tear your eyes away from the Mandalorian. Din loved to watch you interact with the child, it was those moments that made him smile the most. And whilst he'd maybe never admit it out loud to you, he was happy to express himself through smiles drawn onto his helmet.

[celartzee]

Mando lifting his helmet to give his son a kiss before going on a mission.

[xmissrogersx]

Brown Curls | Din Djarin

tags: a lot of Fluff. Grogu’s being adorable like always. Domesticy and family.

my writing is entirely my own. Any adaptation and/or copy is forbidden.

i hope you are enjoying my stories! U help me a lot if you give me a ♡! All the love.

-Hi baby, are you hungry? -I leaned down to take the kid in my arms, to which he responded by raising his little hands to my face, making me laugh.

-Well, let's see what we can have for breakfast.

I began to improvise a breakfast with the few things that were in the ship's kitchen. I was to tell Din that we had to make a stop in Nevarro to buy more provisions.

-And by the way, where is your father? -I asked my little boy, who only had his attention on the blue cookies he was devouring with fervor.

I went down to the Crest in search of the brown-haired man, to find him in the bathroom in front of the mirror with a pair of scissors in hand.

-Din, what are you doing? -I frowned.

-Hi mesh'la —he turned around, to which I had to cover my mouth from my gasp of surprise.

My poor Mandalorian had made a bit of a mess of his beautiful hair, leaving it very short in the front and uneven on the sides.

-I know, I thought I could do it myself. I always trimmed it myself, but I guess I couldn't handle the amount I was going to have to cut…

I crossed my arms and bowed my head, then approached him.

-Let me help you. I know you always did it yourself, but you don't have to do it anymore, you can ask me.

Din smiled, I took the scissors and started to cut the strands of his hair. I snorted under my breath, faking a moan as I removed the long curls I loved so much.

-Mesh'la, it will grow back —he comforted me, as he tightened his arms around my waist, giving me a little bit of a kiss.

-I know... It’s just… I love your hair, Din. Your curls are beautiful. But I know you must get hot looking like that when you put on the that bucket —I finished my lament, eliciting a chuckle from him and earning a pinch on my thigh.

I continued doing the job for 15 minutes. When I finished I took a step back admiring my work of art.

-Ready, ¿what do you think?

He stared at himself in front of the mirror amazed at the result. I bit my lower lip nervous that he wouldn't like it. However, all fear vanished when I saw him smile slightly.

-What do you think? —he asked, sitting me on his lap, to which I frowned in amusement.

-I don't know, I'll have to get used to seeing you with this new look —he pulled me closer to him, our foreheads pressed together.

-How about now? —Our closeness let me contemplate his brown eyes that drove me so crazy since the day he had revealed himself to me.

-Din Djarin, you look stunning, whatever cut you have. You are beautiful. But please, ¿could you grow it a little longer when you're my riduur?

He laughed at my desperate request. In 4 weeks we would go to Sorgan to get married in that beautiful place where a year ago he broke his Creed for me.

I already loved him before I saw his face, but I must say he exceeded all my imagined expectations of what he looked like.

-It's okay, Mesh'la, I promise.

I took his face in my hands and brought our breaths together, melting into one. By the creator, I was addicted to his lips.

I sat hanging from him, to which Din descended his hands, caressing my thighs.

I began to trace a path of small kisses from his jaw down his neck.

-Mesh...Priya...if you keep doing that I'm not going to be able to contain myself, and well you know a certain womp rat is up in the cabin awake.

-You're right...¿how long until we get to Nevarro? -I asked him, resting my hands on his chest.

-About 10 hours —he answered confused by my question.

-Make it 7, and I'll use the handcuffs you use in the bounties —I whispered in his ear, causing him to shiver slightly under me.

-I'll make it 4 —he said seriously, to which I kissed his cheek.

[acaciusbride]

I def see din as a girl dad, just imagining him living his little cottagecore dream with his son safe and sound and with little girls that have his dark hair and eyes <33 his heart would be so full and he’d love and protect his family with all he has. He’d train them to be strong warriors that proudly wear the symbol of clan djarin. The finale has me maladaptive daydreaming loll

Okay but same, anon. Same.

——

He can hear the children before he sees them; he’s around the back of the house, checking the crops, pulling up root vegetables and dumping them into a wheelbarrow.

Later, his love will cut those up. Stew some with some meat for dinner, and preserve the rest for winter. You’re handy in the kitchen, and he’s grown fond of the pickled vegetables that you love so much.

Wheeling the cart around the side of the house, he pauses to wipe the sweat from his forehead; it’s mingling into his curls again, but that’s alright. He’s long since gotten used to being slightly sweat damp, letting the sun further tan his olive skin to a deep bronze.

He sees Grogu first, splashing in the shallow pond a few feet from the house, using the force to send mud balls towards the girls.

They’re so alike that most struggle to tell them apart; there’s only a year between them, and they both resemble him far more than you. Both with his dark curls, his obsidian eyes, but they have your temper, your spirit.

Both girls hold small shields, gifts from Bo for their last new year’s turn. Giggling riotously, they try to deflect the mud being slung at them by their brother, until the youngest shrieks, scrapes mud from her shield and flings it right back.

All three children are drenched, covered in mud and water and laughing their heads off. It’s exactly the sort of childhood he didn’t get, but he doesn’t begrudge them a moment of it. This is what he meant, when he told his people they should fight, give their children a chance to play under the sunlight.

They might be playing around now, but he knows his children are strong. All three of them, and the fourth on the way will be, too. All three wear the symbol of his - of their - clan, the girls in gauntlets and necklaces, Grogu in his breastplate given to him by the Armorer years previously.

The baby will, too.

When the eldest spies him, she straightens immediately, shifting into the casually attentive stance he’s taught them; a warrior’s stance. Clearly, she isn’t sure what to think. Will her father disapprove of this horseplay when he values discipline, culture, tries to teach them to be warriors?

He kneels down as though to speak to her, waits until she’s looking at the ground, then scoops up a handful of mud and lobs it at her lowered shield.

When the four of them troop into the house an hour later, drenched in mud and laughing, the girls hanging off his arms and Grogu on his shoulder, you take one look at them and shake your head, fondly ordering them to take baths before they eat, muttering about just sweeping the floor.

Giving the girls a conspiratorial smirk, Din sneaks up on you, wraps his arms around you and plants a kiss on your cheek, smearing your dress with mud.

You shriek with laughter, chasing him towards the bathroom, the girls and Grogu howling with laughter as they watch their parents.

In short? It’s perfect. It’s the life he always dreamed of having, but never thought he’d get. And he wouldn’t change a thing.

[hyperactively-me]

sharing a bed

He turns his head at your suggestion, clearly thinking of it.  “Or I could leave” you mumble, leaning on the side of the wall. He’s still on the ground next to his bag diverting his gaze from your form.  “Mando, I can just find a different place to stay–” “No.”

just wanted to ask you guys to please read this

(asks are open)

happy reading

warnings: none

“So…” you draw out, unsure of what to make of the situation.

Mando lets out an awkward cough, readjusting the heavy bag hanging over his shoulder. 

The single bed stands out in the room like a bantha on Hoth, imposing on the comfortable, distant relationship between you and him. 

He steps further into the room and drops the bag on the floor of the room. He looks back at you with his ever-stoic expression, unmoving. 

Suddenly, he bends down to the floor, fumbling with the zipper on the bag. You watch as he slides it open with ease, large hands digging through the bag, rummaging around for something. You’re sure that he was only going through his bag because of the awkwardness of the situation, to divert from the topic. 

“I’ll take the floor” he grunts out, voice strained. You gulp quietly, still standing at the threshold of the door. 

“Uh, no. Mando…I don’t think that's going to be comfortable at all” you watch as he turns his head to you, an unreadable expression dons his demeanor. He continues to stare at you, silence permeating the air. 

“Why don’t we share it, it's obviously big enough for the both of us” you suggest casually, not wanting to instigate tension in the already tense atmosphere. He stiffens at the thought, hands abruptly halting from their movement. 

Well this is just great! You’ve made him uncomfortable, way to go! you think to yourself, internally beating yourself up over your words. 

“Unless it's the helmet…” you stumble out, timidly stepping through the threshold and into the small bedroom. “I can cover my eyes somehow” you twist your hands together, unsure of what to say.

He turns his head at your suggestion, clearly thinking of it. 

“Or I could leave” you mumble, leaning on the side of the wall. He’s still on the ground next to his bag diverting his gaze from your form. 

“Mando, I can just find a different place to stay–”

“No.”

You stand there, gawking at him. His sudden, forceful tone shakes you to your core, his authoritative nature coming out in full force. Your face reddens a bit from this singular word, your brain racking through all of his meanings and insinuations. 

“No, I mean…” 

He clenches his hands together, his leather gloves creaking from his actions. He stands up abruptly, a small sigh crackling through the modulator of his helmet. You push the door behind you closed and lean on it gently, waiting for his response. He watches you carefully, studying your movement. He slowly walks up to you, bringing his hands up to his belt. The broadness of his shoulders eclipses your vision. You gulp nervously, awkwardly standing in front of him. 

“I- ‘m fine with it” he draws out, fidgeting with the belt loops around his fingers. 

“All right then” you say matter of factly, brushing past him quickly, averting your face from his view. 

You kick off your shoes and shed your jacket, tossing it carelessly on top of Mando’s bag. You pull back the covers of the bed and plop down onto the mattress with a sigh. Mando slowly moves his way towards the bed, shedding his own armor and boots, methodically and thoughtfully. He concentrates on the way he handles his chestplate, gently placing it down near his bag. He does the same for his shoulder plates and leg armor, again placing it quietly next to his chestplate. You lay back slightly, watching him as he strips down to only his underclothes, a soft black shirt and dark pants. 

“About the helmet…I have a cloth for your eyes–” he articulates, jumbled by the premise of the situation. 

“Oh, of course, I’m sorry–”

“No, it's not your fault–”

“Really, I could just, if you’re uncomfortable with removing the helmet I could–”

“No” he presses out once more, his voice assertive and strained. “Just, put this on. Please” he nearly begs, internally crumbling from the awkwardness of the situation. 

He holds out the dark cloth in his now bare hand. His hand is calloused, skin a tanned, golden honey. Your hand brushes his as you take it, skin brushing against skin. You meticulously tie the dark fabric around your eyes, blocking the world out from vision, plunging into darkness. You lean back fully in the bed, your legs straight as a pin under the covers. 

You hear the hiss of his helmet disengaging, a sound you’ve only heard once or twice before. Your breathing speeds up, afraid of breaching his trust by somehow messing up, even with the blindfold on. The helmet sounds heavy and hollow as he sets it down. The mattress dips underneath you as he climbs into the bed, his breathing shallow. You hear him gulp, his muscles tensing under the sheets. Keeping your eyes open becomes a battle of its own, and you succumb to slumber as you hear the steady breathing of Mando beside you.

When you open your eyes, you feel something heavy draped over your back. As you stumble into consciousness, you remember the night before, Mando reluctantly climbing into bed with you. Your breathing picks up, shaking any ounce of sleepiness from your mind. As you begin to sit up, his arm shifts around your torso, pulling you towards him and into his side. 

“Mando” you hiss out, face reddening at his unconscious actions. 

“Mando, wake up” you say louder this time, feeling extremely uncomfortable in this position. His grip on you tightens slightly, your face smushed into his side. 

You hear him groan out in acknowledgement, stuck between the state of dreamland and consciousness. His hands flex, a sharp inhale escapes his unmodulated lips. You begin to struggle under his arms, thinking of all the accusations he could make up, thinking of the awkwardness to follow from this night, thinking he might just leave you behind at some outpost after this whale incident. All of a sudden, he shoots straight up, shoving you away from him with a strong force. 

You’re nearly thrown off the side of the bed, a small shriek escaping your lips at the unanticipated action. You grip onto the sheets, holding yourself steady near what you presume is the edge of the bed. The blindfold only heightens your anxiety, the darkness providing no insight on what he was doing in the moment. You hear his breathing begin to even out, your own breath slowing down from the past few moments. 

“Are you okay?” he huffs out, his voice so very clearly unmodulated, and it sounds wonderful. 

You stutter out “Uh, yeah,” gulping at his words. 

You hear the sound of his helmet engaging, a hiss emitting from the machinery. Your heart sinks a little, yearning for the sound of his voice to grace your ears for just a little longer. 

“I’m sorry– You can take off the blindfold now” he stutters out, floundering around his words.

“Oh” you say stupidly, lifting your hands up to remove the cloth. Your eyes adjust to the bright light of the room, and you see Mando lifting himself out of the bed. You watch him as he hurriedly puts his armor on, rushing to fasten the clasps around his shoulders. He yanks his gloves on then picks up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. You’re still sitting in the bed, a vacant expression hanging over your face as you watch him. 

He looks over his shoulder and mutters out a quick “I’ll be ready outside when you’re ready” before throwing open the door and walking straight out of the room. 

“...Okay then” you say, pushing yourself off the bed, a shade of red painting your face. 

- - - - - 

You lay in bed, eyes drooping, drowsy from sleepiness. You turn onto your back, stretching your legs and arms, a soft groan eliciting from your lips. Your eyes open a bit wider as a figure enters your vision. 

Din. 

A smile erupts from your face and you stretch your arms out towards him as he stalks over to the edge of the bed. You look up to him, your eyes raking over his form quickly. He’s wearing a soft black shirt with matching pants, and a small smile paints his face. The mattress dips under his weight as he gently climbs into the bed.. He crawls into your open arms, laying partially on top of you. You clasp your arms around his torso, drawing a contented sigh out from Din. 

You bring one hand up to his hair, raking your fingers through his dark, curly locks, slowly and methodically. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath spanning your skin. 

“You’re so soft” Din groans out from your neck, his hands tightening around your torso. 

A warm feeling washes over you, your cheeks slightly blushing from the low timbre of his voice. His stubble scratches the skin between your neck and shoulder, tickling your skin. You bring your hands down to his face and lift his head up gently, forcing him to stare straight at you. His eyes are lidded, chin now resting on the soft skin of your stomach. 

“Hi” you whisper.

“Hi” he whispers back, a lop-sided smile on his face. 

A soft look washes over his face, and he drags himself up to lean in closer to your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he mutters, eyes darting back and forth between your lips and your eyes. You blush, a smile creeping up on you. He’s only a few inches away from your face, you can see every lineament and wrinkle of his skin, the gruff stubble on his face, his wiry mustache, his deep, dark, beautiful, brown eyes. He smells like sandalwood and greenery, the scent peppery and strong. 

You lean in, closing the small gap between you two. You press your lips to his, inhaling at the contact. Your hands come up around his shoulders, tugging on him, trying to pull him up your body. His stubble scratches your chin in the finest way, his lips are so soft. Din draws his body farther up yours, pushing you deeper into the bed, the mattress pressing down on both sides of your form. He bites your lip, slowly pulling away as he breaks contact. 

It’s like he’s floating above you, the dim light haloing his hair. You’re both breathing hard, flustered from the intimacy of the kiss. Suddenly, he grabs onto you and flips you over, a small gasp erupting from your lips. You’re on top of him, well partly on top of him, and he’s looking at you like you’re everything to him. His eyes widen and your heart flutters, a full blown grin displayed on his face. You put your hands on his shoulders, steadying your position on top of him. You smile back at him, snuggling into his chest. A deep inhale slips away your lips, taking in his scent. 

“Hard to believe you’re a big, scary, bounty hunter when you’re so cuddly like this” you beam, staring at nothing in particular. 

He lets out a raspy chuckle, hands coming up to rest on your back. 

“Yeah, hard to believe” he huffs out, rubbing your back slowly. 

You sigh, content, allowing the atmosphere of peace and tranquility, softness and love, to consume you. 

[replaytech]

I will laugh at these scenes until the day I die din is such a toddler dad

[thefrogdalorian]

Dincember Day 5: Cold

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1109 Rating: General Summary: After your favourite Mandalorian's latest assignment with the New Republic means that his return to your cabin is delayed, you head to bed, thoroughly miserable. But when Din finally arrives home the reunion does not go entirely smoothly, as you find yourself needing to warm him up, with adorable consequences. Content Warnings: None! Author's note: I love it when big scary bounty hunters are secretly little spoons.

Link to read on AO3 | My Dincember Masterlist

You were accustomed to Din arriving back to your cabin on Nevarro from his various assignments with the New Republic at all times of day and night. You had come to learn, after several disappointments, not to wait up for him on the days that he said he would be back. Before, you would feel the unmistakable despondency creeping in as his arrival times grew later and later, usually caught up in some bureaucratic nonsense.

Tonight appeared to be no exception, as the time on your chronometer when Din had promised to be back came and went, with still no sign of him, nor any word from him as to how long he would be. You had tried your best to stop letting it get to you, but you could not deny the sinking feeling that you felt in your chest each and every time he wasn’t back with you at the time he had promised. The cabin felt so dark and lonely without him. You were miserable without him, you felt somehow incomplete without his presence.

With nothing else to do and no point in waiting up for him, you decided to make yourself your favourite hot tea and climb into the cot you shared with Din in order to try and get some sleep. The thought of climbing between the blankets without him was thoroughly unappealing, but the lack of contact proved that whatever he was caught up in was out of his control. He was probably somewhere out there, just as frustrated as you were. You missed him terribly, but perhaps when you woke up, Din would be where he belonged: back with you.

Sometimes, the sounds of the N-1 engines descending through the atmosphere to park outside the cabin would wake you up. But despite your unhappiness and concern for him, you had been so tired that you were in a deep sleep by the time Din finally arrived home. The N-1 parking up did not raise you from your slumber, nor did Din and Grogu as they arrived back at the cabin. The first sign that Din had returned home was the sound of the door to the room you shared together opening.

“Din?” You said sleepily, into the darkness.

“I’m home, cyare.” Din’s familiar, deep, soothing voice sounded into the Nevarrian night. You heard him beginning to carefully remove his beskar’gam, a comforting sound that told you he was closeby. “Don’t get up.”

“Glad you’re home,” You sighed happily, halfway between wakefulness and slumber. You soon fell back to sleep. 

Your eyelids fluttered open as you felt the mattress sink with Din's weight as he made himself comfortable on the cot next to you. You smiled as you felt the cotton of his soft clothes as he wrapped his strong arms around your waist. But something was wrong. Rather than the warm, steadying embrace you had grown accustomed to, your ordinarily calm, unwavering Mandalorian trembled from head to toe.

“Din, what’s the matter?” You said concernedly, now fully awake. “You’re shaking all over. Did something happen?”

“I’m ju-just so...” Din struggled to speak against the chattering of his teeth, “C-c-cold.”

“Oh, come here, love.” You said as you pushed him carefully onto his side so his back was facing you, pulling the blanket around the two of you as you did so. You wrapped your arms around his abdomen and pushed them under his shirt so your hands came to rest, palms splayed, against his firm stomach that was beginning to soften slightly with age. “Let me warm you up.”

“Th-th-thank you,” Din said, still shivering.

“Was the job somewhere cold?” You asked sympathetically. 

“Ha-had to report to ice pl-planet… Hoth.” Din explained. So that was what the delay had been, then, you surmised.

“Is Grogu alright?” You asked, concerned about what the cold would have done to a being as tiny as Din's son.

“Ye-yes…” Din nodded, “Left hi-him in the ship while… talked to Teva.”

“Okay, just rest now. Focus on getting warm.” You soothed, stroking his dark curls gently between your fingers.

You lay there for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of Din in your arms, despite how much he was still trembling. It was a welcome change, despite the less-than-ideal conditions that had brought about a shift in your dynamic. Din always liked to gather you up in his arms protectively and hold you close and of course you enjoyed his enormous, warm presence that engulfed you whenever he held you in his arms. You had never felt a greater sense of safety or belonging in all your days than when you were in Din's arms. But every once in a while, it was nice to have a role reversal, to hold him and make him feel how much you loved him and wanted to protect him, too. The absolute love and devotion in your relationship flowed both ways and it was an honour to remind Din of that.

As you laid there and held him tightly, continuing to stroke his bare skin underneath his clothes with your palms, you felt how the tremours that had wracked his body decreased in both their frequency and ferocity. You were grateful that what you were doing had worked, that Din seemed to be warming up from the frigid air on Hoth that had frozen him to the bone.

“You feeling any better now?” You asked as you dropped a gentle kiss to the nape of his neck.

“Much better.” Din sighed happily, though you could tell from the fatigue in his voice how exhausted he was. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” You said in relief, “Why don’t you get some sleep, Din? You sound exhausted.”

“I am,” Din huffed.

“Awwww, honey.” You soothed. “You can tell me all about yours and Grogu’s latest adventures in the morning.” You said, rubbing Din’s stomach softly again. "But first, rest."

“Will do,” Din’s voice was barely above a whisper now, heavy with sleep. “Goodnight, cyare.”

“Goodnight, Din.” You whispered. “I love you.”

“Love you…” Din mumbled, voice trailing off as sleep finally embraced him. You could tell, with a smirk, from his even, shallow breaths that he had dozed off. 

You were grateful for how easily sleep seemed to have come to him. After a long, arduous job like the one he had returned from, he needed his rest. You were desperate to hear the tales from his adventures but you knew that could wait because sometimes your big, formidable bounty hunter just needed to lie there and be the little spoon, as you helped to warm him up from the cold.

[orcasoul]

Broken Part 2

Summary: Din is on the brink of death. The only way to save him is to remove his helmet. Surely he'll understand and forgive you... right?

Warnings: Swearing, description of injuries, angst, established relationship, use of Y/N.

Word Count: 4,564

It has been one month since Din left you as a sobbing mess on Sorgan. One month since he'd had anything resembling a good night's sleep, haunted every time he closes his eyes by the image of your devastated face and shaking frame. Please Din, please don't this! echoing on a loop in his mind. He did what needed to be done, so why can't he seem to move on? He has regained his creed, by the grace of the Living Waters, you're safe, you have friends and a new place to start over. That knowledge should be enough to to ease his conscience, so why can't he let you go?

Why does he suffer every day with crushing guilt and endless longing to see you, touch you, laugh with you? Of course he's not the only one suffering. Grogu cried for three days straight when Din told him you wouldn't be coming back. Even now Grogu seems forlorn. He's quieter than usual, not showing much interest in his toys, not constantly harassing the poor froggy's in his pond. Din tried everything he could think of to distract him, but it was futile. Grogu misses you, and in truth, so does Din. Work has been slow for the past couple of weeks, meaning once Din has dropped Grogu off at school, he's had nothing but time to ruminate on the events that led to this.

Had he been too harsh? Maybe, but although he's consumed by guilt - and a part of him wants to run to you, forgive you and hold you - he still can't see how he'll ever be able to trust you again, trust you to make difficult decisions when necessary. His heart and his mind are being pulled in two different directions. He can't take this anymore. He needs to clear his head. Getting up from the settee, he places his helmet on his head before walking out of the door to visit the one non Mandalorian friend he has on Nevarro.

The evening sun drenches Sorgan in a warm, golden hue, rays of sunlight gleaming off the krill ponds, shadows of huts and trees elongating as the sun slowly begins it's decent beyond the horizon. The evening had always been your favourite time of day on any planet. Taking time to relax and unwind after a long day was always something you'd look forward to, but not anymore. The evening heralds the approaching night, and night time is when the tears come. When the loneliness and sorrow become too much to bare and manifest in unbridled anguish and weeping. Omera has been a liferaft in a tumultuous ocean for you, allowing you to cry until you'd exhausted yourself and always ready to offer advice and support as your poured your aching heart out.

You honestly don't know what you would've done without her this past month. You'd told her everything the day Din left you in pieces and a part of you worried that she'd be disappointed in you too, but she showed nothing but understanding, adding that in a situation like that, anyone would do the same. Some nights were easier than other's to endure. Night's when your toilworn body had no choice but to succumb to sleep after spreading yourself too thin. More work meant less time to think and a greater chance of sleeping through the night.

Tonight wasn't one of those nights. The harvest had been collected and the krills had been salted and stored away, which meant for the past two days there had been a lot less work to occupy your mind. Tonight is the village festival, a chance for the community to come together and celebrate the rewards of everyone's hard work. As the orange and pink sky turned to dusk, bonfires were lit throughout the village, a signal of the beginning of the festivities. Banners and streamers hung between huts, log seats and blankets placed around each bonfire, the aromas of different delicacy's wafted from the stalls, reaching every corner of the village and the cool night air came alive with cheerful music.

Children laughed and played, people danced, friends gathered around the fires, enjoying Spotchka, everyone immersed in the exuberant atmosphere. It's moments like this that somewhat lightened your spirits, even if it is temporary. Omera sat beside you by the fire, handing you a cup of Spotchka. "Thanks," you smiled at your friend. "So, how are you enjoying your first harvest festival?" You look at Omera with a soft gaze. "It's great. I love seeing how everyone comes together. It's..." you sigh, "It's a rare thing these days."

And that's true, considering the larger, more metropolitan worlds you've visited seem to have lost all sense of community, everyone too caught up in their own lives, rushing from A to B without a second thought for their neighbours. "It is?" Omera seemed surprised by your answer, but of course she'd never left Sorgan, so this life is all she's known. "Yeah, a lot of people in the galaxy these days tend to keep to themselves, look out for number one." Omera grimaced at the thought of that kind of existence. "I'd hate to live like that." "Yeah, you're lucky here. This place is..." you look around at the heartwarming scene in front of you, one of camaraderie, belonging. "This place is special."

Omera placed a hand on your shoulder. "You mean we're lucky here. This is your home too now." Tears well up in your eyes but you blink them back and look at your feet. While you deeply appreciate what the village has done for you, this could never truly be home. Home is inside the hearts of the two people you love the most in this whole universe. A home you'll never see again. "Mama, Y/N!" Winta comes bounding over to you both, a huge grin lighting up her face. "I made these for you." She placed two little daisy crowns on both your heads.

"Thank you, sweetie. It's beautiful," Omera gushed and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Aww, thank you," you smiled softly. You've grown very fond of Winta over the past month, her happy disposition reminding you so much of Grogu. "I'll wear this proudly all night." With a giggle she turned and ran back to her friends. You watch her laughing and skipping with some of the other kids, and you feel your heart warm at the sight. Your mood quickly shifts, though, when your attention is caught by a toddler (no older than two) running into the waiting arms of his mum and dad.

Watching the sweet embrace, the joy and love so openly displayed sends a wave of pain straight through your heart. So many times Grogu had ran to you and Din like that, like you were both the centre of his universe. If you'd known that life would end, you would have held onto them both and never let go. The familiar numbness you'd been battling over the past month returns, sinking deep into your stomach. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you place your cup down and stand up. "You okay?" Omera asks. "Yeah I... I just need to clear my head. I'll be right back," you try to say casually, hoping Omera didn't notice the slight quaver in your voice.

The outskirts of the village is a little quieter, a little less overwhelming. Finding a boulder you slump down onto it, dipping your face into your hands. You inhale deeply then look up at the cosmos, wondering what Din and Grogu are doing this very moment. Are they well? Do they miss you as much as you do them? You're one hundred percent certain that Grogu misses you, but Din? Well, you can't be too sure anymore. You can't be sure of anything anymore when it comes to Din. He'd told you time and again that he loved you, but if that were true, why did he leave you instead of talking to you, instead of giving you a chance to make amends?

Maybe you'd been foolish this whole time. Maybe you loved -love- him more than he's ever loved you. Of course these thoughts had been swirling around your brain, relentlessly hounding you since that day, and you're still no closer to clarification, except for one harsh truth; that you're expendable, meaningless and not worthy of love, if the one person you'd trusted the most could just turn his back on you. A pained sob breaks free as you bury your face in your hands. In all your years nothing had ever hurt as much as this! Will this feeling lesson over time, granting you the opportunity to to learn to live with it, or will you have to face this bleak void for the rest of your life?

So lost are you in your all consuming spiral that you don't notice the screams at first. It's only when the unmistakable echos of blaster fire ring out that you leap to your feet like a startled Porg. Your immediate thoughts are for your friends. "Omera! Winta!" you scream as you run into the village. It's absolute chaos! Red streaks fly through the air, people screaming in panic as the attackers gain the upper hand. Some women run to nearby huts with their children while other's are being rounded up. The men are fighting back, but without any firearms they stand no chance. 'Winta, Omera! Where are you?!" You push through the throng of panicking people, desperately to catch sight of them amidst the mayhem. It's no use. In the dark and the rush of bodies you can't see them anywhere. "Win- arrrgh!" You hit the ground hard, a white hot burn tearing across your lower back and side. You push yourself up, gasping at the pain and, knowing there's nothing more you can do, you run.

Stumbling through the dark woods with only the moonlight to guide you, your mind tries to make sense of what just happened. Your lungs burn as you push through the woodland. You don't know where you're gong but you keep moving, until your legs can't take it anymore. A sharp pang jolts through your knees as you land on them, sweating and gasping for air. Dizziness and nausea sweep over you like a wave and you dig your fingers into the damp soil to ground yourself. As your breathing becomes less frantic, your head clears, and thats when you feel a warm wetness running down your thigh, soaking your trousers and making them stick to you.

You reach a hand around to where the pain radiates from and when you pull away, you squint at the dark, thick liquid staining your hand. The moonlight isn't bright enough to give you a clear view so you bring your hand to your nose, praying your suspicions are wrong. Your sense of smell is instantly overwhelmed by a strong metallic scent. Blood! "Fuck!" you groan quietly. I've been shot! You begin to tremble as you realise just how dire your situation has become. The sudden sounds of snapping and rustling has you jerking your head in it's direction. Voices follow the noises, telling each other to scour the woodland for any escapees. With a silent groan you force yourself to your feet and keep running.

For the past couple of days, Din has been in mental torture. His visit to Karga hadn't gone the way he'd planned. All he'd wanted was a new bounty to keep his mind off you, but instead he'd been given some harsh truths. And the more he thinks about the conversation, the more he realises what a grievous mistake he has made, his mind constantly replaying the moment he'd had some sense knocked into him.

"Mando!" Greef Karga exclaimed enthusiastically while rising from his desk. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Din clasped his friends' arm and sat down opposite him. "I'm looking for more work." "Straight to the point as usual," Karga chuckled. "I've got a few bounty pucks, but to be honest the reward is so low it probably wouldn't even cover fuel." Din sighed and sat back in the chair. "Anyway, what's the rush? Your last two jobs paid handsomely. Why not take some time off and relax?" "I don't need to relax," Din replied, curtly, his shoulders stiffening with tension. Karga raised an eyebrow at Din's clipped response. "So, uh... how's the little one doing?"

Just the mention of Grogu helped to relax Din's tense posture. "He's good," Din answered, with a hint of affection in his voice. "He's been making new friends at school." Karga smiled at that, then clasped his hands together on the desk in front of him, focusing entirely on the black T of Din's helmet. "And how are you?" Din shrugged, "I'm fine." Karga just kept his gaze, fixing Din with a questioning look. "What?" Din asked awkwardly. "You're not doing yourself any favours by bottling everything up, you know." Din shifted uncomfortably, fists clenching as Karga continued. "Sooner or later it'll all catch up with you and -" "I said I'm fine," Din snapped.

"No you're not fine, Mando! You haven't been 'fine' since you left Y/N on Sorgan. You think I haven't noticed how distracted you've been lately?" Karga sighed and lowered his tone. "The only time you seem okay is when you're around the kid, but even then, I can't help but suspect it's a front. Just go to her. You obviously miss her. Din shook his head and let out long exhale. "Of course I miss her, but it's not that simple. "Why?" Karga asked, clearly confused, "You've redeemed yourself. You have your creed-" "It's not about the creed," Din interrupted in frustration, "It's about trust. I trusted her completely."

"Mando-" karga began but Din continued, "She went against my wishes and disrespected the creed and myself, even if it was to save my life. It was a ... selfish thing she did." Karga's eyebrows shot to his hairline. "Selfish?!" "Yes! She said she couldn't lose me. She only thought about how she would feel, so yes, she was selfish." Karga pressed his lips into a thin line, shaking his head as he did so. "Mando, you're my friend so I'm going to be blunt. That's Bantha shit!!" Din jerked back at Karga's sudden outburst. "She saved your life, knowing that doing so could end with you hating her. She knew what she was risking by removing your helmet, and it wasn't just losing you, but Grogu too. She sacrificed everything so you could live, even if she could no longer be a part of your lives. That is the most selfless thing I've ever heard of."

Din is speechless. He'd been so consumed by, what he'd seen as a betrayal, that he hadn't stopped to consider what it would have really meant for you to let him die. You loved him so much that you'd risked losing everything, just for him. The sudden clarity made his stomach churn and chest tighten under the weight of such a revelation. What the hell had he done?! "I... I never thought of it like that," Din faltered as regret swept through him. "Maybe it's not too late. I'm sure you'll do the right thing," Karga smiled sincerely. Din stood quickly; he needed to get out of there, needed space to think clearly. "Thank you," Din nodded at his friend and rushed outside.

For two days Din had been obsessing over how he can fix everything, but what could he say to excuse his behaviour? Would you forgive him? He couldn't blame you if you wouldn't. He doesn't deserve it. He feels sick to his stomach knowing the pain he's put both you and Grogu through. He has to see you, even if you won't forgive him, he needs you to know how sorry he is and how much he still loves you. Din is brought out of his thoughts by the blinking of his holoprojector, a quick press of the button revealing Greef Karga's hazy image. "Mando," Karga began, "I've just received communication from Captain Carson Teva. He has a proposition for you. I need to discuss this with you in person. Can you come to the office ASAP? It's important."

Din frowned as Karga's image disappeared. He could tell from his voice that something was very wrong. Din slipped his helmet on and made his way to the office. Upon arrival, Din was met with a very somber looking Karga. This can't be good, Din surmised internally. "Thank you for coming in, Mando," Greef said, stretching out an arm for Din to sit. "You said you have work for me from Captain Teva?" Din asked as he took a seat. "Yes... uh, he's had confirmed reports that an organisation of Spice runners have taken control of a planet in a nearby system. There have also been reports of fatalities and enslavement of the local people. As the Planet is part of the Outer Rim Territories," -Din bristled at that, hoping Karga isn't going to say what he thinks he's going to say- "It's not exactly a top priority for the over stretched republic officers. That's why Captain Teva has requested the help of allies nearby. He'll pay 30,000 Galactic Credits."

"Okay..." Din replied, hesitantly, a knot forming in his stomach. Greef closed his eyes and sighed. "Mando..." he looked back up. "It happened on Sorgan. Din's heart dropped to his stomach as the words he didn't want to hear washed over him. He could barely breathe, fear and disbelief choking his airways. The room began to spin and Din had to grip the edge of the desk to steady himself. "When did this happen?" Din pressed, trying to calm his racing mind. "Two days ago, Nevarro time." Din's jaw dropped under his helmet. "Two days!" All this time you'd needed him and he knew nothing of it.

Maker knows what could have become of you in the past two days, that's if you're still- no! He can't even entertain that possibility. You're alive! You're alive and he'll come for you. "Tell Captain Teva I'm on my way!" Din spun around, ready to high tail it out of there, but then stopped abruptly. In his panic he'd completely forgotten about Grogu. Karga raised a hand, already knowing what Din was about to say. "Go. Find her. I'll get the kid from school and he can stay with me until you return." "Thank you," Din replied and ran out of the room.

You're cold, so bloody cold. The icy chill seems to be coming from inside your very bones, your entire body trembling uncontrollably, while a constant layer of sweat coats your skin. The only respite you get is when you lose consciousness. At this point, though, you're not sure what's real and what's not, how often you've woken and how often you've been dreaming becoming harder to distinguish between. After managing to stop the bleeding with a strip of your shirt, you forced yourself onwards until you came across a small cave, finally collapsing in an exhausted heap.

Time has now become meaningless. Maybe you've been here for minutes, maybe hours; there's no way to know. What you do know, even in your delirious state, is that you're in serious trouble, and if you don't get help soon... well, it's game over. Dying alone on a freezing cave floor wasn't how you ever envisioned yourself going out. Every breath is becoming difficult and every slight movement sends a burning jolt through your abdomen. Slowly, you slip back into the calm.

The fight didn't last long, if it could even be called that. Along with Captain Teva and his men and several other mercenaries, Din wasted no time in obliterating every one of those low life drug runners and freeing the villagers from bondage. Families and friends cried happy tears as they embraced each other, others crying over the loss of a loved one, and an abundance of gratitude and praise was offered up to the liberators. It was a moment of immense joy and relief. However, Din felt none of it as he scanned the crowd. Where the hell are you? he asked himself again and again. With every passing minute Din's composure threatened to shatter.

"Have you seen Y/N anywhere?!" he asked repeatedly as more and more villagers approached him to thank him, every one of them confirming they hadn't seen you. Worry and frustration began to boil within until Din felt like he was going to explode. "Mando!" a sweet little voice cried out, catching Din's attention and pulling him from his imminent spiral. Small arms wrapped around his waist and a head of dark hair nuzzled into his stomach. "Winta." Din gasped in relief, returning her embrace. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" Winta looked up with a big grin. "I'm okay. You saved us, thank you!"

Din crouched down to Winta's level, gently holding on to her arms. "Where's your mother? Where's Y/N?" he asked, trying to remain calm. "Mama's over there," winta pointed behind her to where Omera was quickly walking through the crowd towards him. "Mando..." Omera smiled, relief swimming in her brown eyes. "What are you doing here?" "I heard what happened and I had to come. Where is she?" Omera's face dropped at Din's question, taking his heart along with it. "Omera?..." Din hesitated, almost afraid to ask again but he needed to know. "Where's Y/N?"

"I don't know," Omera shook her head while tucking Winta into her side. "I haven't seen her since the attack." Din's chest seized, Omera's confirmation that you weren't there making his stomach swirl with dread. "I can't be sure, it was dark, but I think I saw her run into the woods." A glimmer of hope! "Which way?" Omera pointed to the tree line behind him, tears building in her eyes. "Please bring her back, Mando," she sniffled. "I will," Din declared with determination, placing a reassuring hand on Omera's shoulder. "I promise!" Then Din turned, sprinting towards the forrest as fast as his legs could carry him.

It didn't take Din long to spot the tell tale signs of disturbance once he'd entered the forrest. Broken branches on bushes, flattened vegetation, and most importantly, footprints. Several different tracks criss crossed the damp soil, some human, some not. Most of the human prints where too big to be you, so Din could easily rule them out, along with the non human tracks. The tracks that caught his attention, though, were sporadic, indicating that whoever they belonged to was in a hurry, but also Physically impaired as the trail was often interrupted by signs of dragging, which could only mean the tracks' owner had stumbled multiple times in their haste to keep moving.

Din swallowed down his rising anxiety at the thought of you being injured, scared and alone. Now's not the time to fall apart. Keep it together, for her! Fortifying himself, Din pushed forward, certain he's on the right path. He engaged the heat signature function in his helmet. It would be useless to track your footsteps now, the heat in them long gone, but if you're in the vicinity, he would easily spot your body heat. Din moved in stealthy silence as he would while tracking quarries, acutely aware of his surroundings. Only this time the stakes were much higher.

Your life is in his hands now. He can't fail you; he wont! He follows the tracks for several more minutes, analysing every minute detail. Rounding the corner of a bush Din stops dead, his muscles freezing as he stares at the ground. There in a patch of dried blood is the beaded bracelet Grogu had made for you in school. He'd recognise it anywhere. His legs turn to jelly and he drops to his knees. Hand trembling he picks it up. Bile rises up his throat at the sight of your blood. It suddenly becomes all too real. This confirms it; you're hurt. You needed him and he wasn't there. Pocketing the bracelet, Din rises to his full height. "Y/N?!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, his body turning in every direction. "Y/N! Where are you?!"

He's met with nothing but the sounds of the forrest and his echoing, modulated voice. "If you can hear me, call out, please!" The last word came out as a desperate plea. Nothing. A thorough scan of the area reveals no body heat signature but you have to be close. The tracks keep going and so does Din. The more he presses on, the more blood he discovers littering the trail. So determined he'd been about finding you, that he'd didn't stop to think about what condition he'd find you in. Would you even be alive? Din shakes the abhorrent thought from his mind.

You're alive. Surely he'd have felt it in his gut if you weren't. Din has become a man possessed, his only mission now is to find you, hold you in his arms and never let any harm befall you ever again. He stalks on, following the tracks for another quarter of a mile until the trail brings him to the mouth of a small cave. This has to be it! With renewed hope, Din charges into the cave, calling your name into the chilled air.

A series of violent shivers jerk you awake, and with consciousness comes the torturous pain spreading along your side. A trickle of sunlight filters down from a hole in the cave ceiling, bathing part of the area in a warm yellow glow. You groan as everything begins to spin in your vision, shutting your eyes in an attempt to ease the nausea trying to climb up you throat. It's hopeless; you know that now. With every waking moment a little more of your strength ebbs away. Your mind wonders to Din and Grogu. Even if you never physically see them again, at least you'll die seeing them in your memories.

A wistful smile tugs at your mouth as you imagine the antics your precious boy is probably up to at this moment, but your smile slowly drops, sadness settling deep within as the image of Din -both with and without his helmet- comes to the forefront of your mind. You'll die now, without the chance to tell him one last time how much he means to you, and that even though he broke your heart, you forgive him. You hadn't even realised until now that your face is wet, tears running down the temples of your head and into your hairline behind your ears.

"Y/N? !Y/N?! Cyar'ika are you in here?!" Din's frantic voice cuts through your silent despair. It sounds strange, almost as if he's under water. So close, yet so far away. How cruel of your mind to play tricks on you now. You hear the call of your name again, closer and clearer this time. In your disorientation, you turn your head in the direction of the voice. The last thing you see before darkness swallows you again is the gleam of sunlight reflecting off a fast moving mass of silver and black.

Part 3

[joelslegalwhre]

My Riduur

word count // 1.6k

pairing // Din Djarin x fem!reader

word count // 1.6k

summary // Mando didn't like it at all that some boy thought he could get close to his wife. He couldn't show with actions that you were his, the helmet prevented that, but he had his own way to show it.

warnings // jealous Din (let‘s still call him Din okay, thanks), pda, established relationship, lovesick puppy energy, protective!din, allusions to smut, Din and reader speaking Mando’a, me having absolutely no clue about Mando‘a grammar, taking the helmet off if you’re married is okay here, okay? Thanks (did I miss something?)

a/n // I put translation for the Mando‘a words at the end, so you don‘t get confused but I also have the link to the dictionary right here

Took me long enough to write this 😮‍💨 Thank god my exam is over (and I stressed for nothing, it was actually really easy), so here you go with my first ever din fic, I hope you like it x

Masterlist// Mando‘a dictionary I used // my kofi 🩷

It felt strange to be sitting here, in a bar on Mos Eisley, surrounded by all kinds of people, droids, and even a few bounty hunters.

It wasn't the feeling of sitting in a cantina that was weird. No, it was more the feeling of not having to accept a job. You were not here to look for one. In the last months you had almost had no break, and now you could finally lean back a little. The thought, of picking out a nice place with Mando for the three of you for the next few days, pleased you.

But before you did that, you just had to have the ship repaired a bit, after it had taken quite some damage.

Mando was still at Peli Motto's place, busy showing her the ship and checking the price for the repair. You had been looking around the bar ever since he left, hoping he'd be back soon. The jobs of the last weeks had been unique, the wages you had collected for them were easily enough to sit back and relax for a few days, even after getting the razor crest repaired.

You were sitting at a free spot at the bar of the cantina and watched the people and other beings talking to each other. Some argued, some laughed with each other.

You wondered how long it would take for Mando to-

"Hey there, gorgeous." someone sat down next to you, interrupting your thoughts.

You looked at the stranger for a moment, eyeing him. He had to be your age, a few strands of his dark hair fell into his face, and his eyes were not only gleaming with a deep blue, but with an extreme amount of confidence. "I didn't expect to see an angel today." he smirked in a way that almost made you laugh. He didn't lack any confidence, that was for sure.

You drew your brows together, and tilted your head slightly as you looked at him.

"Say, does that work on any woman?"

At his next sentence, you were sure he definitely had a drink too much or just a little too much self-confidence to flirt so shamelessly.

"You're not any woman." he winked.

You raised your eyebrows and nodded with an amused smile. "Oh, is that so?" you chuckled lightly.

"You're here with someone?" he asked, leaning closer. You immediately brought some more space between the two of you again, "I am, actually."

"Well, then where are they?" he asked with a grin that told you he didn't believe you. "Right here." you could hear Mando's deep, modulated voice. Your heart made a little jump when you turned your head and saw him walking straight towards you.

If looks could kill, this wannabe bounty hunter would be six feet underground by now. Mando's jaw had clenched when he saw the stranger talk to you. His jealousy stewing at the mere thought of another man looking at you this way. He’d been ready to stomp up to him and place a good, hard punch right at this fool's flirtatious face.

"Me'bana?" Mando asked, looking at you. His hand naturally found its place on your waist.

"Nothing," you leaned a little closer to him, "Kaysh mirsh solus."

Mando's light, breathy laugh made you almost turn into a puddle. 'He's an idiot.' you'd told him in Mando's native tongue, so the stranger in front of you wouldn't understand.

You had learned it when you started to accompany Mando. He was confused at first, to say at least, as to why you'd wanted to actually learn the language. But you wanted to get to know Mando, that included his native tongue. And besides, it was fun, sitting in the razor crest next to him, Grogu on your lap, learning to speak and read the extraordinary language of your Mandalorian.

"Hey, just so you know," said one started again, "Unalike that tin can there, I can show my face whenever, my lips too." he smirked. His obvious confusion about the two of you speaking in a language he'd never heard but knew must've been Mando'a.

You politely declined his request, slowly getting annoyed. "Thank you very much, but I actually really like the tin can right here."

Mando wanted to kiss you so bad, show you off as his, but he couldn't. That's just how it was, he couldn't take off his helmet. He was proud of his religion, it was part of him. You'd probably wouldn't even let him take it off, even if he tried. That was one of the many reasons he loved you so deeply. You respected his religion, tried to understand and learn about it.

And he could always take it off when the two of you were back in the privacy of the razor crest. He loved the curious look on your face every time he did, as if it was the first time you've seen his face.

But the truth was, that you were enamored with his features, the patchy beard paired with the mustache, his brown eyes and the brown curls… You could just never get enough of him.

Even before you two were married, you always loved to play with the ends of his fluffy hair, whenever it was getting longer once again. It was never much, but enough.

He had other ways to make sure everyone, especially the fool in front of you, knew you belonged to him.

"We need to look for our child." he was well aware that people believed he meant a human child when he referred to Grogu as "child" or "kid".

The look on the boy's face made a smug smile appear on Din's face, carefully hidden by the beskar helmet. He was so satisfied with himself, you could practically feel it spill over, and you didn't even need to see his face for it. You just chuckled quietly.

"Next time," Mando said, "watch who you talk to. My wife is off limits, understand?" his voice cold, almost threatening.

The eyes of the stranger widened, hearing the title.

You took Mando's gloved hand from where it was still firmly placed on your waist, and intertwined your fingers with his.

"C'mon, let's go," you smiled up at your riduur. You turned back around to address the guy, trying to sound nice, "It was nice meeting you."

With that, you left him sitting there, Mando‘s grip on your hand tightening in a protective manner, as you left the cantina.

When you were back at the ship, you could see Grogu fast asleep in his pod, "He's the most adorable thing I've ever seen." you say to Mando, looking at the little being with a look of pure love. Mando‘s heart warmed at the sight of you and Grogu. His little odd family.

"Even more than you getting all jealous of that guy back in the cantina." you grinned at him teasingly.

Mando stepped closer to you, his hands on your hips once again. You slung your arms around his neck.

"I wasn‘t-" but he interrupted himself, he was jealous, so much so that he would've loved to take his blaster out of the holster, even if it was just for show. "I was protecting my aliit." Family. You could barely get your fastening heartbeat under control, no matter how many times he'd say it. "I'm all yours, Din."

"Good." he said, and lowered his head. You could feel the cold beskar of his helmet touch your forehead. A Mandalorian kiss. You loved when he showed you his love that way. You closed your eyes, just soaking up the moment. You couldn‘t see it, but Mando had also closed his eyes, his hands still on your waist, he tried to memorize every little detail about this, about you.

After some time, spent taking the other in, after savoring the intimacy, you could hear a content sigh voice through his modulator.

"I'll look after you, always." His hand wandered to your cheek and cupped it gently. “And trust me,” he huffed, "I won't let anyone flirt with my wife like that, cyar'ika." 

You grinned up at him. You couldn't wait to be all alone with him, leaving Grogu in the cockpit to sleep, and kiss him. Oh, how badly you just wanted to give his lips a little peck. You settled for wrapping your arms tightly around his armored middle, pressing yourself against his chest. 

Mando's arms around your shoulders, he leaned his helmet against your hair. Even if all you could feel was his armor, it was still him. Your Mandalorian. Your husband. "I love you, mesh'la." the modulator had barely picked it up. He'd whispered it into your hair, like he couldn't believe that you were his. That he had the privilege to be the one to hold you… to love you. And to be loved by you. 

"You know," you started smiling at him innocently, „since the baby's asleep, I thought you could show me how much. I mean, just so I know-"

"Haav." he interrupted you, his voice low, "Now." This was no plead, no, a demand. You chuckled and started walking to the makeshift bed you shared with him.

Behind you, you could hear him taking off his helmet, and you could barely hold in your excitement to finally see his face again. You had really missed it, although you've just seen him this morning before getting up. His armor followed next, a second later you could feel his arms wrap themselves around you. "Too many clothes." he whispered into your ear, his voice clear without the modulator. It gave you goosebumps all over your body, "Take them off then.".

Mando‘a translations:

ner = my, mine

riduur = partner, spouse, husband, wife

Me‘bana? = What‘s happening? What happened?

Kaysh mirsh solus = He‘s an idiot (lit. His brain cell is lonely)

cyar‘ika = darling, sweetheart

mesh‘la = beautiful

aliit = clan name, identity, family

haav = bed

🩶taglist: @alexxavicry @kittenlittle24 @hereforfics124 @Snow30285 @cl16version

[theetherealbloom]

THE SILVER LINING — SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: After aiding the Republic and the fall of the Empire, you left the Jedi Training Clan on Bogden 3 to help families in need of medical care with the call of the Force. You are a kind, warm-hearted healer on Nevarro, treating the citizens and albeit the bounty hunters as well. Imperial remnants still linger in the shadows, waiting to strike at the perfect moment. Leading you to assist the Mandalorian with rescuing the Child has somehow led you to your biggest adventure yet.

Paring: Din Djarin x Empath!FemReader

Warnings: Violence, Age–Gap Romance, Angst, FLUFF, Eventual SMUT, Swearing, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, People pleasing, Flattery, Blood, Blasters, War, Religion References, Aliens, Sith, Character Deaths, Canon-Typical Violence,

Main Song: Everywhere I Go by Sleeping At Last

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

CONTENTS:

SEASON 1

Chapter 1: The Mercury Keeps Rising

Chapter 2: Our Magnetism To Recklessness

Chapter 3: I Could Be Your Sacrifice

Chapter 4: What It Means To Be Saved

Chapter 5: Closing In

Chapter 6: Show Me Where to Find The Silver Lining

SEASON 2

Chapter 7: Coming Soon...