Din Djarin/Mando/The Mandalorian: One Shots, Imagines, etc.

Father's Day

A/N: requested by joycecruzquintero (who wanted more wholesome dad din, and im not complaining, since the picture above has me so sOFT)

Warnings: wholesome wholesomeness, weapons,

Word count: 1185 (maybe i CAN write fluff)

Din wakes up to the sound of your voice. Seconds later, he feels someone flop onto his chest, and then a second, smaller body jumps onto his legs. Groaning, he blinks his eyes open, a smile tugging at his lips at the sound of your infectious laughter. With a yawn, he reaches down and pats Koran, your pet massiff, on the head, frowning at the strange skittering noise to the left of the bed. Sitting up, he peers down at the floor to be greeted by six pairs of wide, puppy eyes staring up at him before they begin to scrabble at the side of his bed again, attempting to join their mother on the blanket.

'Buir!' You crow. 'Happy father's day! I made you pancakes!'
'Oh, ad'ika,' he says, squeezing you to his chest and chuckling when the air leaves your lungs with a loud oof.
'The pancakes aren't as good as yours, though,' you sigh, then narrow your eyes at him. 'You forgot about father's day, didn't you?'
He grins sheepishly. 'Maybe?'
You wave your hand dismissively. 'Never mind. The pancakes are getting cold, and you need someone to look after you if you won't do it yourself.'
He chuckles. 'I thought I was the buir?'
You snort. 'Well, buirs need looking after too.'

His chest swells at your tone, and he squeezes you to his chest one more time before dropping a kiss to the top of your head and hastily rushing through his morning routine. Stepping out into the hull, the six massiff puppies nipping playfully at his heels, snapping at the water droplets he shakes off his fingers, he grins at the steaming hot pancakes you've laid out on the crate the two of you use as a table. He remembers your innocent request for the recipe, and although the thought had crossed his mind that you might make them for him, he'd completely forgotten.

You're jumping up and down excitedly by a small pile of wrapped packages, smile so wide he momentarily wonders if it will stay permenantly on your face. He sighs, ruffling your hair and pulling you in for another hug.

'You didn't have to, ad'ika.'
You huff. 'But I wanted to.'
He smiles. 'Then, thank you.'

Grabbing his hand, you lead him over to the 'table' and sit him down, and he picks up his plate and sighs with happiness at the fragrant scent of the pancakes. He can already tell you added just a little bit too much blue milk, but the fact that you woke up early and made them for him makes them so much better than if you had gotten all the measurements right. Aggressively cutting into your own pancakes and chomping on them, you gesture at the presents.

'You can open them while you eat!' You chirp eagerly.
He shovels a bite of pancake into his mouth. 'Of course, ad'ika.'
'That one is for you to open last,' you add.
'Oh, so there's an order now, huh?'
You roll your eyes. 'Of course, buir.'

Picking up the first package, he waits a moment, his fingers hovering over the paper until you groan loudly at the suspense, banging on the crate to signal that he should hurry the heck up. Glancing up, a grin pulls at the corner of his mouth as you look at him expectantly, your mouth stuffed full of pancake, your eyes bright. He chuckles under his breath, ripping open the present and raising his eyebrows.

'A cleaning rag?' He asks. 'Are you sending me hints, ad'ika, or - '
'The one you use for your blasters is so gross,' you mumble through your pancakes.
'Thank you,' he replies, hiding a smile - he had actually needed a new cloth.
'C'mon,' you say. 'You're not done yet.'

Obediently, he picks up the next package, shaking it gingerly and frowning at the texture of the present within. You raise an eyebrow, and he begins to tear open the wrapping, lifting out the soft, pink loth cat stuffie and casting you a wry look. Your smiling triumphantly, hands on your hips, and he wonders what he's missing, when you speak.

'Don't think I didn't see you cuddling my one, buir. Anyway, I didn't want you to drool on this one so I got you one for yourself.'

Din laughs, throws his head back and laughs, so hard that he almost begins crying. Tucking the stuffie under his arm, he appreciates how damn soft and fluffy it is before moving onto the next present. It's flat and floppy, and he appraises it, making funny faces just to make you laugh. You do, catching the attention of the puppies, and they begin to scrabble at his shin, their barking high pitched as they stare up at the package in his hands, as eager to see its contents as he is. He savours opening it and lifts out the t-shirt inside, eyes widening as he takes in what's printed on it. You're laughing, hard enough that he begins smiling too as he waits for you to recover and explain yourself.

'Do you like it?' You ask, wiping tears of joy off your face.
'Ad'ika,' he says, keeping his voice neutral. 'Why did you get me a shirt which says 'this is my ad'ika' on it with your face printed all over it?'
You begin chortling again, trying to hold it together. 'Don't worry, buir, I have a matching one.'

You unzip your hoodie, and he finds himself staring at hundreds of pictures of his helmet printed all over your shirt, with the words 'this is my favourite buir' emblazoned across your chest. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wonders how many credits you spent on getting customised matching t-shirts. Instead of voicing that question, he quickly slips on the shirt and hugs you, chuckling as he feels you shaking with laughter against him. Eventually, the two of you calm down enough that you stop bursting into fits of giggles each time you look at each other's shirts, and you point to the last present.

'Here, buir,' you grin, eyes glittering as you pass it to him. 'Last one.'

Deciding not to keep you waiting, Din rips it open, adding the wrapping to the growing pile on the floor as he holds up the contents of his last present. It gleams slightly in the light, a deep mahogany, smooth and slim yet strong and durable. Turning it over, he catches the mudhorn mark on the side, subtle but not too small, and he traces his fingers over it, recognising the handiwork.

'You made this, didn't you, ad'ika?'
You fidget a little bit. 'Yeah. Do you like it?'
Din turns it over in his hands again, inspecting it. 'Of course I do, ad'ika. It's - it's amazing.' He smiles up at you. 'I needed a new one. Thank you.'
You get up and throw your arms around him. 'Happy father's day.'
He closes his eyes and buries his face in your hair. 'I love you, ad'ika.'
You nod, voice muffled by his shoulder. 'I love you too, buir.'