#mando monday | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ilovepedro · 5 months

Text

Woven in the Stars | din djarin x f!reader

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

Chapter 2 - Cosmically Sewn

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~4k

Chapter summary: Din returns to town with Grogu, meeting with you to get custom clothes. Getting acquainted with the pair, you strike up an offer that could bring you and Din even closer. Will Din accept?

Chapter warnings: slow burn, mutual pining, dad!Din, flirting, one (1) use of the word “daddy” in a nonsexual way, reader refers to Din as ‘Mando’ (for now 🤭), POV switching, inaccurate star wars info, liberties taken with the Creed, reader is female, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N, none really mostly just pining and fluff

A/N: hi everybody!!! tank you for sticking with me, life has been so hectic lately to say the least 🙃 but these two are finally acquainted with one another! the smut will happen eventually so bear with me y’all! i will throw y’all a bone occasionally, but the freak narsty smut happens all at the end. gotta let these two babies pine and let that slow burn burnnnn! can y’all sense i’m a sucker for the buildup? hehehe anyway i hope y’all enjoy! 🩵 not beta'd, all mistakes are my own.

Divider by @saradika

the first emboldened word = Din’s POV

the first italicized word = Your POV

Stirring in the plush, handsewn sheets, Din’s eyes flutter open, adjusting to the beaming sunlight. Groaning, he huffs as he rubs the shadow of stubble growing on his face, as he recalls what he did last night before falling asleep. Dread washes over him as he thinks of how he has to face you at the market later.

With a deep sigh, he rises from the bed and tidily makes his bed before padding into Grogu’s room. Thankfully, he’s still sleeping, still cuddled up with the stuffed bantha you gave to him.

You are everywhere he looks. How have you infiltrated his mind so quickly?

Din heads down the hall and into the refresher, opting to take a long shower while Grogu still sleeps. The scalding water soothes the dull aches that still linger in his body from years of battling. He scrubs hard, attempting to wash away what he did last night, the guilt and shame.

He shuts the water off and dries off before trudging back down the hall and into his room. As he slips on his flight suit, soft coos make his ears perk up. He smooths out the wrinkles in his shirt as he goes to peer into Grogu’s room. The child now wide awake and still gripping onto the bantha. He squeals at the sight of his father, hands up and stretched forward.

Din cradles him in one arm as he walks out into the kitchen, starting their daily routine. One that consists of breakfast for Grogu, and sometimes Din. If he’s not eating breakfast with his son, he’s usually doing some work - whether that be house work or having comm link meetings with Teva or Karga.

Today, it’s just breakfast for the two of them. Grogu brushes the stubble on his father’s face while he prepares their meal. In the past, he’d tell Grogu to stop touching his helmet. Things have changed.

Din no longer wears his helmet around Grogu so long as they’re alone in their home. He’s part of his clan now, having adopted him. Seeing that Bo-Katan and a few others who’ve walked both worlds, and being exposed to different Mandalorians who practice the culture differently, he’s decided to take some liberties with the Creed. He wants his son to see him, all of him after losing him once. Also, Grogu is still far too young to partake in the Creed, so he should be allowed to see his father.

He prepares breakfast for the both of them, sitting Grogu down in his chair as he serves them both. His son squeals as his father serves him and sits beside him. Mirroring each other, the clan eats in silence. Grogu busies himself with his meal, completely oblivious to his spiraling father.

How is he supposed to face you again today? Why did he do that last night? Maker, he needs to regain his sense of self control. He knew domestic life was going to be an adjustment, but he didn’t think he’d let himself slip up so easily, so quickly. For stars sake, he’s already thinking about sharing a life with someone, with you. He has other things to take care of before he can even give that a second thought. Like settling in, helping Grogu adjust to this new life, prioritizing his contract work with Teva, and the occasional tasks from Karga. He hopes he can act normally today. You caught him off guard yesterday, but hopefully he can prepare himself to see your beautiful face.

A whine pulls him from his thoughts. Grogu has crawled into his lap, pouting up at him with those big brown eyes, meaning he’s still hungry. Din hands him his spoon, and turns him around to face the table. Grogu squeals with delight as he rapidly devours the rest of his father’s food.

With a tiny burp, Grogu plops down into Din’s lap and sinks into the warmth of his chest. Din rises to his feet and pads into his son’s room, cleaning him up and changing him into a spare tunic. He settles Grogu in his pram, nuzzling the new stuffed bantha that he’s quickly attached to next to him, and walks across the hall to put on his armor.

As he reaches for his helmet, he calls out for Grogu before placing it on his head. “Come on, Grogu, let’s go.” A hissing sound erupts as he slips his helmet on, and he rushes back into the living room, slinging the sack over his shoulder while Grogu plays in the pram with his bantha. Another reminder of you, he exhales a deep modulated sigh as he braces himself for a day at the plaza. Embarrassment coursing through him as he and Grogu head out the door and off on their journey for today.

Maker give him strength.

The town bustles as the sweltering sun beams down onto the plaza. Setting up the last display at your textile stall, you wipe the bead of sweat that’s formed at your brow. Mando is supposed to return with Grogu today, making you feel particularly giddy about seeing the mandalorian again. You’ve heard tales about mandalorians your whole life, and have even seen some in passing having lived on Nevarro for a few years now. However, something about him was so enthralling.

You couldn’t place it. Perhaps it was the way he was so caring and gentle with his son, or perhaps it was his demeanor which was surprisingly a lot more open than you had expected. Most encounters with mandalorians are short, as they are not people of many words - but not with him. Something about the man in beskar has captivated you, unable to shake him from your head since meeting him yesterday.

Subconsciously, you’ve never taken this much interest in a commission before. You’d even selected an array of fabrics for him to choose from for Grogu. You tell yourself it’s because of the unorthodox, sweet duo. The green baby having captured your heart the second you laid eyes on him, his curious eyes wandering and babbles that escaped him having tugged at your heart strings. You wondered how he ended up with his father, the resemblance between them obviously nonexistent, but you didn’t ask. It’s not your place to know, let alone judge, unless Mando feels comfortable telling you.

You should know better than anyone how complicated familial relationships can be. That family does not always correlate to blood relation, being adopted since birth after your biological parents had given you up to your mother and father. You believe that the stars lead you to people. They lead you to your family - your parents, your brother, your sisters. You are their daughter, their sister despite what biology may say.

Oh how you miss them all so much. What you’d give to see them again. You hope they’re alright, that the krayt dragon hasn’t reached them despite all the time that has passed.

Biting back tears, you shake your head and pack the selected textiles into a box and place them in your home-turned-shop. Working out of your home has its perks - never having to leave. It’s also got its downsides with the lack of space. It can get crammed sometimes, and it’s hard to not bring work home with you - literally and figuratively. Big commissions can be stressful, and dealing with a particularly aggravating vendor neighbor doesn’t help.

Recounting your last encounter with him, it was thankfully diffused quickly by your other neighbors. He’d yelled at some innocent kids who were eyeing the fruits he sells, calling them thieves and accusing everyone of being one after he’d had a few pieces of fruit stolen from his stand. You’d intervened first, scolded him for yelling at children and consoling them by offering them some candy from your stash. Thankfully the other neighbors despised him as well and jumped into your’s and the children’s defenses. He backed off and hasn’t said anything since. Hopefully it stays that way.

Thank the Maker he doesn’t actually live next to you.

The sound of your name pulls you from your recollection and back into reality. You rush outside and your breath hitches in your throat. There he is, in all his shiny glory. If he’s this captivating with his helmet on, you can’t help but wonder what he looks like underneath it.

You wave at them, beaming as Grogu returns a wave with his tiny hand as he holds the stuffed bantha you gifted him just yesterday. Din desperately tries to keep his composure as he approaches you, trying not to think of what he’d done last night. His hands having grown clammy under his gloves, his helmet suddenly feeling hotter as the sight of you sends his head spinning.

You’re radiant, as if you belong in the stars in the evening skies - outshining every galaxy he’s ever seen. Your energy is infectious, making his heartbeat stutter.

“Hi, baby! I see you brought your new toy with you! Do you like it?” You ask, voice full of glee. Grogu happily garbles an incomprehensible response, but you take it as a ‘yes’ and burst into a fit of giggles. Your laugh like music to his ears, he bites back a groan under his helmet.

Is there any part of you that isn’t beautiful?

“Hi, Mando,” you giggle. It sucks the air out of his lungs hearing your breathy laugh and his name from your lips. Sweat forms on his brow and he wishes he could wipe it away. He fidgets with his holster, giving you a nod. “Hi, cyar’ika,” he nervously stammers, the affectionate name having escaped his mouth without thinking. Your brow quirks as your lips pull into a grin. “I’ve never heard that before. Is that your native tongue?” You inquire, fully intrigued by the name.

Fuck. He didn’t mean to let the name slip.

“It is. It’s Mando’a, the language of my people.” Your smile grows larger, making Din’s heart beat faster and body grow hotter. “It sounds lovely! What does that word mean? Should I be insulted?” You playfully tease him. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes bug out of his head as his cheeks grow red. “What? No, it was not an insult, I promise. It means, uh… it means ‘friend,’” he lies. You nod, narrowing your eyes at him as if you don’t believe him.

“Okay. If you say so, Mando,” you tell him, coyly winking at him. He clears his throat as awkward tension fills the silence between you two.

Grogu’s squealing breaks the tension, making you laugh. “You ready for some new clothes, baby?!” You ask him, scooping him up from his pram, eliciting a giggle from the baby.

His heart feels like it’s going to burst through the beskar.

Tickling the child, he laughs excitedly as you set him on one of the tables at your stall. “Wait here,” you tell the clan as you disappear into your studio. You return with a box containing something. You place the box on the table, Grogu cooing in curiosity. Din tilts his head to the side.

“What’s this?” He asks, making you beam.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I selected some fabrics for you to choose from based on what he was wearing yesterday! But also, please feel free to browse around the other selections,” you explain with a sparkle in your eyes as you smile at him, laughing as Grogu grabs one of your fingers to balance himself as he wobbles to the box.

He’s undeserving of your kindness, unable to fathom what he’s done to be on the receiving end of it.

“You didn’t have to do that, cyar’ika,” he nearly whispers. Your face is beginning to ache with the amount you’ve been smiling since he arrived. “It was no problem, Mando. I hope you like some of the selections. You can tell me if you don’t, you can be honest with me. Trust me, I can take it,” you tell him with a coy smile and a wink, making him suck in a sharp breath.

Keep it together, Din.

“Th-they’re lovely, cyar’ika. Thank you very much, I’m perfectly happy with any of the fabrics you’ve chosen,” he tells you. “Are you sure? Because I-I can pick out some more,” you say timidly.

Is he making you flustered? No. There’s no way.

“No need. They’re perfect.” You give him a nod and tuck your bottom lip between your teeth. “How about we let Grogu choose his favorites from the pile?” He says, subconsciously inching closer to you. “O-Okay,” you stutter.

You bend down to meet Grogu’s height. “Grogu! Which one do you like, baby?” You gently ask him as you hold up two pieces of fabric for him to choose from. He points to one in your left hand with a grunt. You repeat the process two more times, the smile never leaving yours or Din’s faces.

He watches quietly as you swipe your measuring tape from your apron, wrapping it around Grogu who garbles in confusion as he wonders what’s going on. He looks up at you with his big brown eyes, tiny teeth peeking out from his mouth. You smile and scrunch your nose at him, speaking to him about different things like toys, candy, animals, anything a child would like. You intently listen to every garble that streams from Grogu as if you can understand him, showing him enthusiasm as he babbles.

Din can feel his body heating up, his chest feeling fuzzy as he watches you interact with his son.

Grogu goes for something in one of your pockets - the pin cushion. You and Din panic, you get to him before he pricks himself on a needle. “No no, baby! Those are sharp, they can hurt you. Here, you can play with this instead,” you say, handing him a spare one sans pins. You remove the one from your apron and toss it onto a table behind you, probably to ensure he doesn’t reach it at all.

How are you so maternal? Is it instinctual or do you have children of your own?

“You’re really good with him,” he says, moreso to himself rather than you. “Hmm?” You say, lifting your head and eyes wide as you meet his gaze. His heart feels like it’s going to combust every time you look at him.

“What?” He asks. A smile splays on your face, teeth poking through your lips. “What did you say? I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch what you said,” you explain.

“Y-you’re, uh, you’re really good with him. Most people can’t keep up with his hyperness, but you can.” He sees something flash across your eyes.

Bashfulness?

“Oh. Thank you, that’s very kind,” you say, voice hushed and shy. “Do, um, do you have any children of your own, if you don’t mind me asking?” He can’t help, but ask - curious as to how you’re so good with his son, curious if you’ve got a riduur at home.

“No! No children, just me at home. I did have a little sister and have just always had a soft spot for kids, but no… no children,” you tell him, a noticeable deflation in your voice as you bring up your sister.

Did. He catches that, unable to miss the use of past tense. Feeling like he’s already pried from you, he nods. “Well, you’re a natural. Plus, he likes you,” Din says, offering some sort of comfort and shifting the focus of the conversation.

Grogu chirps from below the both of you, making you smile. You boop his nose, making him laugh. “I like him too. We’re best friends now, aren’t we, baby?” You ask him, tickling his sides as Grogu’s laughter grows louder. “Better watch out, Mando. I think I’ve taken the throne as his favorite,” you say through your giggles. Din watches from behind his helmet as you cradle Grogu, his heart taking flight at the sight in front of him.

“I don’t doubt that, cyar’ika.”

“So… can I ask what brings you into town, besides clothes for Grogu?” You ask, marking measurements on the selected fabric.

“Uh, yes, uh, we’re actually also here to gather some things for a fence I’m building. I’ve got a pond in front of our house and Grogu keeps torturing the frogs. I also don’t want him falling in, so I’m buying the last of the supplies to block it off.”

Your heart softens at the mandalorian’s concern. Going above and beyond for his son.

“Those poor frogs,” you giggle at the thought of Grogu messing with them. “Yeah, if he keeps eating them, he’s going to turn into one,” he huffs. Grogu snaps his head up, garbling what seems like a question.

“Have you started building the fence yet?” You through a fit of laughter.

“I have not, I’ve been occupied with some last minute tasks High Magistrate Karga asked me to complete. But I plan to start soon, possibly within the next week.”

You hum as silence settles amongst you three. A thought pops into your head, recounting the time you spent helping your father around the moisture farm back home on Tatooine as a young girl. Building and repairing fences and traps with your brother around the farm, your father adamant on ridding your home of womp rats.

Without even thinking about your next words, they eagerly roll off your tongue. Not sure why you’d go so far to extend a helping hand, but not questioning yourself either.

“Would you like some help?” Mando tilts his head to the side. “W-with the fence! That is,” you say, trailing off at the end. “Oh, that’s quite alright, cyar’ika. It’s a lot of work, and I couldn’t ask another task of you.”

“It’d be no problem! I’m more than happy to help, if you’ll let me.”

You’ve never been so eager to do farm work in your life. Surely, your father would laugh at your enthusiasm.

“Cyar’ika, you’re very kind, but I’d be indebted to you should you help me. In fact, I already am with the garments you’re crafting for Grogu.” You playfully roll your eyes

“Again with the formalities. You aren’t indebted to me, Mando! This is my job. Helping would be considered a favor, helping out a friend.”

“Friend.” Mando states.

“Yeah. Isn’t that what you call me? ‘Cya-cy-cyar’,” you stumble through the pronunciation. Mando barks out a hearty laugh, sending a flurry of butterflies swarming in your belly.

“Yes, we are friends, cyar’ika. You can just call me ‘Mando’ or ‘friend.’ We’ll work on your pronunciation later, don’t want you hurting yourself now,” he teases. Your scrunch your face up, mouth gaped open. “Wow! How rude of you, Mando! Give a lady some grace, why don’t you?!” You squeak, unable to contain the surprise in your voice as a huge smile breaks out onto your face, taken aback by his sudden playfulness.

“I’m sorry, cyar’ika. How can I re-earn your good graces?” A smile evident in his voice.

Your face feels like it’s going to fall off if you keep smiling.

“For starters, you can tell me what that word really means. I’m only fluent in Basic and Jawaese,” you say with a wink, trying to make him feel equally as flustered.

“Jawaese? Are you not native to Nevarro?”

You shake your head as you measure Grogu once more, jotting down his measurements, playfully booping his nose to keep him entertained. “I am not. Tatooine was my home, it’s where I was born and where I grew up.”

He nods, carefully catching a wobbling Grogu. “So what brought you here?” You smirk. “I could ask you the same, Mando… if that is your real name,” you tease. The mandalorian chuckles under his helmet.

Oh what you’d give to see his smile.

“Maybe I’ll tell you… should you ever choose to tell me your given name,” you tease.

“Fair enough. I’ll tell you everything one day, cyar’ika.”

One day. Is he possibly considering telling you his name?

“One day,” you repeat. Your gaze never leaves his, staring into the blacked-out T in his helmet, hoping he can see the desire in your eyes. The silence is broken with the clearing of Mando’s throat.

“I plan on starting next week. Does that work for you, cyar’ika?”

You nod a little too eagerly, automatically agreeing despite not having checked your deadline schedules for other commissions. “It does! I’ll even bring over Grogu’s new tunics next week, they’ll be ready by then,” you excitedly say, folding the paper containing Grogu’s measurements and tucking it into your apron. Tucking your pencil behind your ear, you fold the fabrics up and carefully place them back in the box.

Grogu picks one up and hands it to you, melting your heart. You graciously pout, cooing at him. “Thank you, baby!” You squeal, gently caressing his cheek. He nuzzles into your touch.

He’s got you wrapped around his little green finger.

A pang of disappointment hits your heart, your time with the clan coming to a close.

You sigh as you tuck the box of fabric under one of the tables behind you. Silence hangs in the air, fiddling with your apron as you’re unable to say goodbye.

“Well… I guess we’ll be seeing you next week, cyar’ika?” Mando says, making you perk up at the sound of his voice. “Yes, yes you will, Mando.” You can’t help but smile at the thought of spending time with the duo.

“Good. I can’t wait, mesh’la,” he says quietly. Your brows reach your hairline at the new nickname. “Okay, now what does that one mean, Mando? You better not be insulting me!” You exclaim, poking fun at him, but genuinely curious as to what he’s saying.

“I would never, cyar’ika! Like I said, I’ll tell you one day,” he assures you. You sarcastically hum, reaching for something else in your pocket and hand Grogu yet another piece of candy.

“Here you go, little man. Thank you for being so good today, baby!” You tell him, helping him unwrap the lollipop as he squeals with excitement. He incoherently babbles as you discard the wrapper.

“None for daddy though, he’s being a meanie,” you pretend to whisper to Grogu. Your head snaps up at the sound of a groan.

“You alright, Mando?” You ask, brows pinched together. “Y-yeah, cyar’ika. I’m fine. J-just s-sometimes… this… helmet gives me, uh, a headache. I’m fine though,” he stammers. Your worry not quite dissolving.

“I’m sorry, Mando. Would you like some medicine? I think I might have some inside,” you worriedly ramble. He waves you off. “It’s alright, cyar’ika. I promise. Th-thank you for all your help today, truly,” he nervously says. Taking his word, you nod.

“Well, I’m here if you ever need anything. And of course, it was my pleasure,” you say as you extend your hand to him, smiling as you do so. He quickly glances down to your hand, his large gloved hand fully encasing yours, his thick fingers brushing against yours in the process. He gently shakes your hand, giving it a soft squeeze in between, flashing him a gentle smile.

Is he smiling under there? You hope so.

“See you next week, cyar’ika,” he says, his hand still in yours. “I’ll see you both next week, Mando,” you say breathlessly. He sets your hand down, but doesn’t let go. You can sense his hesitation, but what could he be hesitating about?

“Have a lovely day… mesh’la,” he rasps with a tender, but swift swirl of his thumb on your hand. Sparks of electricity bolt throughout your body, your hand feeling as if it’s ablaze. He quickly drops your hand, gathering Grogu in his arms and settling him in his pram.

“Thank you. You too, Mando,” you nearly whisper, still relishing in the lingering feeling of his hand in yours. “Bye, cyar’ika,” he says with a wave, Grogu mirroring his father’s actions. “Bye, Mando. Bye, Grogu!” You say, returning the wave to the father-son duo. They part from your stall.

There’s a few customers browsing around your stall, but you hardly notice them as your mind swirls from what just happened between you and Mando.

What was that?

A customer comes up to you to ask a question. You shake the thoughts from your head and go about the work day. Anticipation blooms within you as the day drags on.

Next week can’t come fast enough.

we've finally been introduced to our reader (or as Din likes to call you, 'Cyari'ka' hehehe) and now the plot has been set up for some major pining! we've even caught a glimpse of backstory for reader!

i truly hope your suspension of disbelief allows you to picture yourself when reading this, because i like to picture myself while writing! Din wants reader aka you! 🫶🏼

anyway, thank you so much for reading! i'd love to know your thoughts in the comments, my asks, or dms 🩷

tag list: @javierpena-inatacvest @gracieheartspedro @undrthelights @tinygarbage @bastardmandennis @party-hearses @nostalxgic @mandoisapunk @pedrostories @anoverwhelmingdin @diguise7 @survivingandenduring @missladym1981 @stilllivindue2spite @dindjarinsmut @coquettegingette @firstofficerwiggles @christinamadsen @leithatnight

if your name is crossed out, it means i couldn't tag you ):

#fic: woven in the stars #din djarin #din djarin fic #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin fluff #din djarin series #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #the mandalorian x female reader #mando monday

213 notes · View notes

ilovepedro · 6 months

Text

Woven in the Stars | din djarin x f!reader

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

Chapter 1 - Stitching Serenity

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~2.5k

Chapter summary: As he adjusts to life on Nevarro, Din Djarin ventures into town with his son, Grogu, to gather supplies to finish settling into their new home. While shopping, he has a chance encounter with you - a local seamstress. The two of you make an instant connection, as he's drawn in by your beauty and kind heart. After striking up a deal with you, Din heads home after a long day, where suppressed feelings of loneliness and desire arise.

Chapter warnings: slow burn, domestic!Din, dad!Din, mutual pining, yearning, loneliness, bit of flirting, inaccurate star wars info, male masturbation, Din Djarin is referred to as Din and i’m not sorry, reader is female, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N.

A/N: happy mando monday! we’ve got another series, babes! buckle up - we’ve got mega pining incoming. Din is a very special character that i hold close to my heart. 🩵 he is so complex, and i want to handle him with so much love and care. i hope y'all enjoy this introduction to the series! feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments or in my asks/dms 🫶🏼

Divider by @saradika

Light blazes through the cracked window, his room rapidly warming up from the brutal Nevarro heat. Din stirs as he hears his son babbling from his room right next to his. Rising to his feet, he pads into the next room, greeted by an excited Grogu. Din scoops him up out of his bed, and carries him into the kitchen.

Grogu’s been babbling a lot more, Din is curious if he’ll say his first words soon. He fixes up Grogu’s breakfast and sets him in his chair at the table along with the food. Making sure his son doesn’t choke while eating, he makes a mental list of things they need to get today at the market.

Beams, wire, fence lining.

Grogu spills some of his breakfast on his tunic, eliciting a sigh from Din.

New clothes for Grogu are added to the list.

After breakfast, Din changes Grogu out of his messy tunic into a spare one he keeps in the drawer for laundry days. Settling Grogu back into his tiny bed, which Din so proudly made himself, he places his favorite ball and a stuffed frog Greef Karga had gifted to him inside to keep him occupied while he gets ready.

He trudges into the refresher, turns on the shower and strips down before stepping into the water. While scrubbing, Din makes another mental list of chores he needs to do around the farm.

Tend to the yard, give the starfighter a tune-up, begin building the fence around the pond.

He steps out of the shower and dries off. Dressing in the refresher, he slips back out into the hall and back into his room.

He’s still adjusting to this new life, never knowing such tranquility and domesticity before. They haven’t got much yet, but he’s trying his best. Wanting to give his son a new, calmer life after all they’ve been through.

Sliding on his helmet and tacking on his remaining equipment, he slings the sack Grogu likes to occasionally ride in over his shoulder. He pads back into Grogu’s room, scooping up his gurgling son as he’s entertained with his toys, and placing him into his pram. The clan of two sets off on a long day of gathering things for their new home.

Sauntering into the markets, the clan heads in the direction of the hardware stand. Buying a few beams, wire, and a few sheets of metal fencing to build a fence surrounding the pond in his front yard. Din efficiently packs the supplies together and slings them on his back.

The fabric stand catches his eye, noting that he and Grogu do need more clothes, and even some new bedding.

As Din peruses through the selection of handcrafted items, picking up a new set of sheets for himself and garments for him and his son, Grogu wanders off in his pram to the stuffed animals.

Din perks up at Grogu’s babbling, seeing that his son has picked up a stuffed bantha. “No, Grogu. Put that down, we’re only buying things we need right now.” Grogu’s ears droop as he whines. “We’ll come back in a few days. I promise, kid.”

“Do you need help with anything?” A sweet voice breaking through the bustling air.

You appear from behind one of the cloaks that are hung up on display, kindly smiling at him and Grogu. Din’s breath hitches in his throat at the sight of you. You look radiant, ethereal - your beauty rendering him speechless for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Uh, no, ma’am. Is this your stand?” He asks, feeling flustered.

“It is. Do you like that one, baby?” You ask, crouching a bit to get on Grogu’s level, who’s cooing at your words. “Take it, sweetheart. It’s okay,” you gently tell him.

“Oh no, I’m sorry. We’re only buying necessities today. Will you have any more next week?” You smile up at the mandalorian. “Nonsense, it’s on the house,” you tell him, giddy as a toothy grin plasters your face. “I’m afraid I can’t accept, ma’am. Thank you for your generosity, but-”

“You mandalorians are always so cordial. I insist it’s on the house. It’s alright, sweet boy. Go on, take it,” you say. Grogu squeals and squishes the stuffed bantha into a bone crushing embrace, your heart melting at the sight of the little green child.

“Thank you, ma’am. That’s very kind of you. Could you at least let me pay for it?” You playfully roll your eyes. “Is your helmet sound proof or something? It’s on the house,” you smile, winking at him.

Thank the stars Din wears this helmet, or else you’d be able to see how red he is underneath.

“I surrender. You drive a hard bargain. I’d at least like to pay for the clothes and these sheets. Are you the seamstress in charge, ma’am?”

You perk up at his question. “I’ll allow you to pay for the clothes, and that I am!”

You’ve got a bit of a spunky personality, from what Din can gather.

“Do you happen to take commissions? These shirts will fit him fine, but if it’s not too much trouble, could I possibly ask for some smaller ones that’ll fit him a little better? I’ll even pay double whatever you normally charge,” he rambles. A twinkle glints in your eyes, your face hurts as you can’t stop smiling at the flustered mandalorian.

“I do take commissions. And no need to pay me double, I’m more than happy to help at whatever price works for you,” you kindly respond. The mandalorian huffs out a modulated chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Thank you very much, ma’am. Could I stop by tomorrow with him to get his measurements? We’ll be in town again gathering more supplies for our new cabin. We’re still settling in and I want him to have enough clothes,” he tells you.

“Sure! I’ll be here for the next week until dusk or whenever I sell out, whichever comes first. Are you liking Nevarro so far?” You curiously ask, wondering if he’s got a spouse at home.

“We are. It’s a much quieter life than our past one, but… it’s a nice change. Just want to make sure the kid has everything he needs.”

You nod at his answer, unable to stop the next words tumbling from your lips. “Does your spouse need any custom garments as well, or just your son?”

“No spouse. It’s just me and my son,” he quickly blurts. Your smile reappears at his answer, silence brewing amongst you two. Grogu’s gurgling cuts through the air, both of you turning to look at the excited child in his pram.

“You’re a good dad,” you softly tell him.

“Thank you. You’re a very kind woman. Thank you for being so kind to my son,” he quietly says, fondly staring at Grogu who is occupied with his new toy. “Of course. I can tell he’s a sweet kid. Also helps that he’s adorable. I can fold those by the way,” you say, hands out awaiting his items.

“Oh, thank you very much,” the mandalorian says gratefully, intently watching you fold his purchases as he searches for his next words. Not wanting your conversation to end just so he can hear your sweet voice.

“Do you make those stuffed animals as well?” The mandalorian asks you. “I do.”

“You’re very talented,” he compliments. Now it’s your turn to feel flustered, heat surging throughout your body - and it’s not from the blistering Nevarro heat.

“Thank you very much,” you gracefully tell him with a bashful smile, silently asking for the items in his hands

“I might just have to commission you for one of those as well,” the mandalorian says as he hands you the credits for the sheets and garments as you fold them.

“Apologies, as well, for not introducing myself earlier. I’m…Mando. It was nice meeting you,” Mando says, trailing off at the end while packing everything into his bag.

The market bustles now, making you shuffle a bit closer to him so he can hear you, as you timidly give him your name. He quickly repeats it, burning it into his memory. The gap between you both having grown smaller. Catching a whiff of your sweet perfume, Din’s knees nearly buckle.

Of course you’re the embodiment of sweetness - and he longs to have a taste.

Flashing him your dazzling smile, you stick your hand out, awaiting his grasp. His face grows hot as he shakes your hand, both of your touches lingering. You gaze deeply into the slit in his helmet, hoping he can sense a sliver of desire from you.

You shuffle even closer, nearly fully flushed against his beskar. “It was nice meeting you too, Mando. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Your voice hushed, your words only meant for him to hear.

“Yes, we’ll be back in the morning,” Mando says just as quietly. Your smile softens as you glance down to your conjoined hands. You pull away, realizing your hold on his hand lingered for a tad too long.

He clears his throat before turning to his son. “Come on, Grogu. Let’s go,” he barks, causing Grogu to snap his head up and look at his father.

“Bye, baby! Oh, hold on a second!” You say, fishing in your pocket and pulling out a piece of candy. “Here you go!” You squeak as you hand him the sweet treat. His eyes light up and he gurgles in excitement. He hurriedly takes the candy from you, unwrapping it to shove it in his mouth.

“Grogu, what do you say?” His father sternly asks him. Grogu looks up at you and babbles what you think is his version of ‘thank you.’

“You’re welcome, Grogu. Bye bye!” You giggle as you wave off the clan.

Din makes one last stop, purchasing some things to make dinner. He carries his bag of garments and sheets in one hand and the bag of ingredients in another as his hardware rests on his back. He lugs everything back home as Grogu entertains himself with his new toy.

Opening the door, Grogu rushes in first in his pram as Din trails behind and shuts the door. He tosses the bags onto the couch and settles the hardware in a corner of the living room. Grogu babbles as he plays with the bantha you gave him, giving Din the perfect opportunity to quickly cook him some soup for dinner.

It’s different not living out of ration packs, and actually having time to cook a real, hot meal. Domesticity is so foreign to him. The thought of sharing this new life with someone - with you - quickly infiltrates his mind. His mind swirls as recalls his encounter with you today while making dinner.

How did you become a seamstress? What’s your story? Do you give away stuff for free to other customers? Or was it because you’re interested in him? Is that why you had asked if he had a spouse? Or were you just being polite? Why does he care so much? He hadn’t thought about the other merchants this way, but there is something about you that has pulled him into your orbit, making him unable to shake you from his mind.

Grogu’s cooing pulls him from his trance, the soup he’d prepared had boiled over while he reeled through his thoughts. Din exasperatedly cleans up the mess and serves Grogu dinner, who scarfs it down the second it’s placed in front of him. As his son eats, Din continues reeling.

He’d been fine with being alone all these years. Why is he starting to feel this way? He and Grogu have been living here for a few months now, so why is he suddenly feeling a sense of desire? Longing? Even loneliness? Could it be the paternal instinct to provide more for his son? Or could it simply be you?

A tiny burp drags him back into reality. Grogu tiredly yawns, his belly full after a long day at the market with Din. His eyes droop, along with his ears. Din scoops him up and heads to Grogu’s room. He places the green child in bed, placing the stuffed bantha you’d gifted him alongside him.

Din shuts the door and walks into his room next door. He continues to think of you while stripping his armor. He’d suppressed his feelings of loneliness for years now, but something about you had brought them to the surface.

Perhaps it was the way you treated Grogu with such sweetness, so maternally. Or perhaps it was your divine beauty which shines so brightly, penetrating from within your kind heart into the external realm. Whatever it may be, Din could not seem to shake the overwhelming feelings of yearning and loneliness - needs craving to be fulfilled by someone, by you.

Sighing as he removes his helmet, he changes into sweats and opts to sleep shirtless tonight. Padding into the kitchen, he puts the dishes from dinner into the sink, grabbing a glass in the midst of everything.

He knows his son is a Jedi and can overpower him at any moment, but Din still places his spotchka on the top shelf of a cabinet. He just hopes for the best and trusts Grogu won’t get into it.

Swiping the spotchka from the high point, he pours himself a hefty helping and chugs it. Helping himself to two more glasses, he begins to feel the effects, his eyes glazed over and heavy.

Placing the spotchka back on the top shelf and his empty glass in the sink, he walks back to his room and pulls his blanket back. Settling into bed, he still can’t get you out of his head.

His cock twitches at the thought of you, palming himself through his sweatpants. Images of you flash through his mind as he takes himself out of the confines of his sweatpants. His length springs out and bounces onto his stomach, thumping in the processing.

Din spits into his hand and winces as he strokes his cock. He’s so hard it hurts. Closing his eyes, he sighs as he strokes himself up and down, gathering the bead of precum that has dribbled from his tip and smearing it along his length.

The memory of you smiling as you appeared from thin air has him thumbing at his sensitive head. Your sweet scent lingers in his nose, smelling of florals, candy, and a hint of musk. He picks up the pace at the recollection. His breathing grows ragged as he remembers the glint in your shimmering, kind eyes. A fire burns in his veins, balls throbbing as he nears the edge.

He recalls how his skin felt electric beneath his glove as you shook his hand. The thought of your lingering touch sends a jolt of lightning through his veins as he replays the sweet sound of his name fluttering from your lips.

He wonders if his real name would sound just as sweet.

At that thought, he teeters off the cliff and plummets into his orgasm, painting his stomach with his spend while he groans your name. There’s so much cum, he’s definitely going to have to use his new bedding tonight.

He swims through the treacherous waves of his climax, sweat sheening his body. His hair sticks to his forehead and the back of his neck, a heady bliss crashes over him as he tries to catch his breath. He hasn’t cum that hard… ever.

He pants as he throws an arm over his face. Attempting to steady his breathing, he exhales a deep sigh. He’s never been so frustrated with himself. He’s always had more self-control, more discipline when it came to his desires. It’s unbelievable, and downright embarrassing, how quickly he caved at the thought of you. He doesn’t even know if you’re interested in him that way. It’s not like he could give you everything you deserve either, so long as he follows the Way.

Rising to his feet, he pads into the refresher to clean up the mess he made on his stomach. He heads into the living room, rummaging through the bags he carried in earlier. Slipping into the new pair of pants he purchased from you, along with grabbing the new sheets, he trudges back into his bedroom. He strips the bed and replaces the sheets with the ones you crafted and sold to him.

Groaning, he plops himself onto the mattress and stares at the concrete ceiling. Scintillating moonlight shines through the cracked window while the embarrassment and guilt sink in.

How is he supposed to face you at the market tomorrow?

An exhausted sigh rumbles from deep within his chest. He's never been more eager to wear his helmet ‘til now. He turns on his side before nodding off - hoping for a dreamless sleep, one free of you.

thank you for reading! may the yearning begin 🫡 i’m setting these two up for a slow burn hehehe

we will learn more about reader and her story in the next chapters!! i just wanted to introduce Din’s mindset after settling into a calmer life with Grogu

i want to delve some more into Din’s mind and examine his loneliness since we only catch very brief glimpses of it in the show. we know he gets lonely though, an example being apart from Grogu for 2 years. he’s a human after all underneath all that armor. a complex one at that with being an orphan and having to hide himself all the time.

anyway, i hope you enjoyed! let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters <333

tag list: @gracieheartspedro @undrthelights @tinygarbage @party-hearses @bastardmandennis @nostalxgic @pascalpvnk @javierpena-inatacvest @mandoisapunk

#fic: woven in the stars #din djarin #din djarin fic #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin fluff #din djarin smut #din djarin series #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #the mandalorian x female reader #mando monday

353 notes · View notes