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lavendersb · 3 years

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Golden

Din Djarin x Reader

Summary: Things have been tough for your little clan of three.

You decide to take a break on an idyllic little planet and play happy family for a while.

Alternatively titled: "Touch starved metal man nearly dies when someone touches him softly"

Takes place after s2, but the crest is still intact, and Grogu hasn't gone to jedi school :)

Warnings: Literally none this is the softest thing in the world

Din had promised you a break.

For nearly a month you had been holed up in the razor crest. Din took no jobs, you stopped for nothing but fuel and even then Din wouldn’t allow you or Grogu to leave the ship. He was paranoid and desperate to ensure that the empire were off your trail before stopping for an extended period of time.

He had a good reason to act this way. You understood him well, just under a year of travelling as the Mandalorian’s companion had made you well aware of the way he operated, and the risks that came with his job. For a month or so you had been something more to him. Neither of you could quite put it into words yet, but he had opened up to you, made you aware of some of his more personal fears. How he worried near constantly that something would happen and your little clan of three would be separated.

As much as you understood Din’s reasoning, Grogu was struggling with his hyperspace confinement. A toddler with no way to burn off energy would be a nightmare in regular circumstances, but a toddler with magic powers was an entirely different set of challenges.

In the last week, Grogu had taken to throwing any item he could manage across the hull of the ship. It was harmless to begin with, just the odd crayon or stray bolt but now that Grogu had some practice, he was starting to pull at the large crates crates. When he managed to open Din’s weapon storage, that was the final straw.

You had reasoned with Din that just for a few days you needed somewhere to stop. It didn’t need to be populated, just somewhere the child could safely run free for a while. Preferably somewhere with decent weather. Eventually he had agreed, checking nearby planets for a safe place to land until he came across a very tame-looking planet called Usmoff 8. It would only take a day or so to get there.

You had been asleep when Din had landed the crest. He had gotten up in the night to navigate the landing and had left you to sleep in the bedroom you shared behind the cockpit. When you finally woke to join him, you were startled by the view from the cockpit’s windows.

It was evening, the sun just beginning to dip below the horizon and casting the grassy planet outside in a brilliant golden glow. The light reflected off Din’s beskar vibrantly, the light flashing your eyes as he shifted in the pilot’s seat.

“The average day on this planet is much longer than most,” He tells you “It’s still only morning for us”

You rest a hand on his pauldron, looking out at the planet instead of into his visor. With the sun reflecting off him with such strength you could hardly look at him.

“You might want to go without the beskar today, when I look at you it’s like staring at the sun” You suggest. A year ago you would never have dreamed of saying such a thing to Din, but after the events of the last few months he was starting to embrace life outside of the armour. Every now and then he would remove his beskar and sometimes even his helmet, but only when he was sure that just you and the child could see.

“First I’m going to take a look around. Just to make sure there’s nothing we need to worry about” Din says.

“Alright,” You touch his pauldron gently, feeling how it’s already warming in the sunlight “I’ll go wake up Grogu.”

Din rests his hand to rest on yours, squeezing it where it rests on his shoulder and you use your free hand to turn his face to yours. You lean down to touch your forehead to the space above his visor, resting there for a moment before pulling back and heading down to the hull.

“Grogu” You coo softly when the door to the cot lifts, and the hyper-active child sits up in the hammock. His ears flop into place as he wakes himself up, blinking slowly and letting out a string of groggy noises.

“We’ve got a busy day today” you say as you fish him out of his blankets. The two of you get ready whilst you wait for Din to return, washing your faces together and helping Grogu into a poncho and little pair of trousers.

You’re just finishing breakfast together when Din returns.

“Looks like we’re alone. It won’t hurt to stay alert though, I’ve no idea what the ecosystem is like here” He says, setting down his rifle and taking a seat on a crate in the hull.

“Do you think the wildlife will be a problem?” you say as you pass him a small bowl of lumpy porridge.

“Hard to tell,” he shrugs “but I don’t really want to risk it. I’ve seen the most vicious of animals living on some of the most beautiful planets”.

The three of you finish breakfast and as you and Grogu clear up the plates together, Din starts to remove his beskar. He stops when he gets down to his flight suit but opts to keep the helmet. You don’t push for him to remove it, even though you know you won’t properly be able to look at his visor when your outside in the blinding sun. You want him to feel safe.

“Much better. Now you’re not so reflective, I’ll actually be able to look at you when we’re outside.”

“Do you plan on looking at me that much?” Din quips and you can hear his sly grin from under his helmet.

You scoff, and lightly shove his shoulder with yours as you pass to the ramp.

“I always want to look at you Mando.”

You hear Din chuckle quietly as you descend the ramp into the ‘evening’ sun. Grogu stirs in your arms, becoming restless at the sight of the grassy plains after going so long inside the metal belly of the ship. You don’t put him down just yet; you quickly scan the horizon first after becoming wary from Din’s words earlier.

There’s no sign of any other life forms, just grass and flowers and sunlight for as far as you can see. It really is picturesque. The golden sun illuminates the planet in a hazy glow and makes everything look warm and perfect. You set the baby down, and instantly he begins to toddle off towards a big, wilting flower.

“Thank you for letting us stop here” You say as Din comes to stand beside you.

“You don’t need to thank me. You should ask more often; I sometimes forget that the two of you need time to rest. When I travelled alone I never took breaks like this” He says, watching Grogu as he brings the head of the flower towards his little nose.

“Did you never get cabin fever?” you ask, and Din gives a little shrug.

“I grew up in the sewers of Nevarro and it was rare that I ever got let out. I think I’m immune to cabin fever.” Din says it like a joke, but his voice is laced with something akin to nostalgia. Or perhaps grief. You can’t quite tell.

Something moves out of the corner of your eye. You quickly turn to look for what it is, worried that it might be some kind of predator like Din had warned about. Instead all you are faced with is a tiny, orange-winged butterfly. The solitary thing flutters close to you, and then off past you and Din to disappear into the sunlight.

“So much for those dangerous creatures” You laugh.

You spend the rest of the day outside in the sun. Din reckons it’s safe enough that you won’t have to leave too soon, but you’re still so excited to actually have fresh air to breathe. You do everything you can outside the ship, you eat outside, sort the laundry outside , and for the benefit of the child you play outside too. Whilst you and Din work on the little mundane tasks that need doing, you both keep an eye out for Grogu, whose energy is so abundant he keeps scampering off across the fields. Each time you have to call out to him and tempt him with food or a new game to play, and each time he comes diligently scampering back, giggling the whole way.

By the end of the day his energy has run out entirely. He waddles rather than runs, and never goes further than a few feet from where you and Din have settled under a tree. Din lies on his side next to you, finally convinced that there’s nothing out to get the three of you and parts ways with his helmet. It sits glistening next to him, close enough that he can grab it if anything goes wrong.

Over in a patch of shrubbery the baby gargles and lurches forward, disturbing a cluster of peaceful butterflies from the plants they rest upon. Two dozen or so of the petal-winged creatures leap into the sky and flutter away from the little green monster that waves his tiny hands after them.

“Oh Din, look” you say, and the two of you chuckle at the image before you. The butterflies have disappeared into the blinding golden sunlight and left Grogu alone in the flowers.

“Eh-a?” Grogu exclaims in confusion, his arms still extended towards the sky and his big brown eyes squinting as he looks for the insects that have abandoned him. His small arms drop back against his side, he seems ready to waddle back over in defeat until something in the flowers catches his attention.

You watch as your adoptive son’s big ears prick up with excitement. He slowly bends down, tentatively reaching into the shrubbery and straightening back up again with something resting in his open palm. He begins to totter over to you and Din, his attention solely on what he cradles in his hands, moving so carefully, as though it is the most precious thing in the world.

“What do you have there, Ad’ika?” Din says, and you sit up to see what Grogu has brought over.

He comes to a stop between the two of you and offers up his palms for you both to see his catch. It’s a butterfly, unfortunately dead but not by Grogu’s hand. No, the little boy is far too gentle with it. Grogu looks between you and Din and makes a noise of confusion. He lifts his palms higher into the air to try and get the butterfly to take off but all it does is roll slightly in his hand. Definitely dead.

“I think he’s gone to sleep,” You say to him, not quite ready to discuss the concept of mortality with a tired green toddler “It’s almost time for your bedtime as well.”

You reach out and take the butterfly from Grogu’s gentle hold, holding it’s body between your forefinger and thumb you admire it’s pinkish wings in the warm orange sunlight. Grogu sits down heavily and lets Din pull him closer so that his back rests against his father’s chest. His big brown eyes still watching the butterfly as you move it around.

Smiling you bring it towards him, brushing the insect’s soft wings gently across the baby’s wrinkled head.

“Does it feel soft?” You ask, bringing it down to tickle his rosy cheek and then back up to his head. Grogu doesn’t answer, he’s far to busy enjoying the feeling of the butterfly’s wings on his skin, his big eyes looking up at your hand and his little mouth parted in wonder. You keep going, watching as it lulls him into a sleepy state and makes him melt into Din’s body.

“You’re a good influence on him. A year ago he would have eaten those things without mercy” Din jokes as you continue to move the butterfly wing.

“You underestimate your own impact on him” You say quietly, so as not to disturb the baby. Din huffs in disagreement.

You’ve always known that Din thought very little of his ability to raise Grogu. His insecurities about raising a child were what brought the two of you together in the beginning, but even after so much time together the Mandalorian still couldn’t see how much of a natural he was at parenting. At being loving. At being loved.

“Din,” You chastise softly, but he doesn’t meet your gaze. His head is bowed, eyes laser-focused on the grass below him.

You take the butterfly away from Grogu (he’s become so drowsy he hardly notices it’s absence) and bring it to Din’s cheek instead, brushing the silky wing across his skin. Din bristles, looking up at you with his eyebrows raised and slightly pinched. His breath audibly catches in his throat, and you keep softly brushing the butterfly wing along his stubbled cheek.

“You’re gentle too,” You say, as Din’s eyes plead with you. You know he wants to argue with you, he wants to tell you he isn’t gentle, that nobody’s ever let him be gentle, but you won’t let him. Instead you bring your free hand up to hold his other cheek, and Din practically melts into it.

His eyes close as he enjoys the pleasant touch. You know how overwhelmed he gets when his bare skin is touched. Especially when it’s his face. Especially when it’s a tender touch. A life hidden behind beskar will do that to a person, he had told you once, and most of the physical contact he received as an adult came in the form of punches. This was still so new to him.

You place the butterfly down on a nearby flower and lean in close to Din, slowly pressing your lips to his in a sleepy kiss. It’s slow, and as you pull away Din leans to follow you, searching for more.

You chuckle at the sight in front of you. Din leaning on his side with the baby sitting against his chest. Both of them stare up at you with content, their brown eyes blinking slowly in the sunlight. You and your boys are happy. That’s all that matters in the universe right now.

#my writing #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #star wars imagines

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