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Love Language

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He notices it the moment he steps inside.

In all honesty, how could he not? While sure it was in the middle of the night that he had returned, the lights were still bright and on in the hull just as it is in the cot.

So, take a guess when he returns and finds you cuddled up inside where his bed is—a small stuffed bantha toy in your arms while there was one shaped as a porg in the small arms of the green little child.

He wonders if you’ve had that toy for a while now or if you had gotten it while out during a food run. Surely, he would’ve seen you buy one, not only for yourself but for the child.

Then again, you were good at hiding many things from him, thus another reason why he couldn’t find the many stolen shirts of his in your laundry basket. You probably figured out that he knew and attempted to hide the evidence.

In all honesty, Din could care less, you could steal all the shirts he had, then he would buy more for you then just to repeat.

So, as he quietly removed his armour, careful aches from his bones and the metal, he stripped down to his sleeping garments and snaked his way in between you in the cot. He heard your groan as you wiggled against his embrace.


“It’s just me.”

His voice felt bare. Then realizing that he must’ve taken off his helmet and joined you along in his bed. Your face felt hot. You were suppose to move back to your space before he returned.

Well, that was gone as you realized that you were in his bed… holding your own stuffed bantha like you were a child.

“I’m sorry. I fell asleep. I swear I was going to move after the baby went to bed. I’m—” You clutch your bantha closer, afraid that you may have actually done something wrong.

But you felt his—gloveless—cup your face. Warm to the touch but calloused underneath, you fall at ease to his gesture. Your eyes are wide, though you’re sure and thankful he can’t see them. “Hey, you’re alright. It’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” You gave a hefty sigh, almost feeling as if the weight had been lifted. “We can barely even fit. I can go—”

“I said you’re fine, cyar’ika.” There, a strain but firmness to his voice that had your lips pressed together. And despite in the absolute darkness, you hid behind your stuffed toy, just as the child does with his own when in embarrassment.

There’s a pause that settles in the air. Your eyes desperately searching his as if you could ever find it. You wouldn’t and would never.

Then he’s speaking up once again.

So… What’s with the bantha?”

Oh Maker, you could practically feel the floor melt under your heated body. Filled with embarrassment and shame, you frowned. And as if he had his helmet on, he had sensed your shame and his own filled with regret.

“N - not that there’s anything wrong! It’s… Well—”

Childish. I know. But it just gives me a lot of comfort when… When you’re not here and the baby doesn’t want to cuddle.”

He paused. “I was going to say cute.”

“Oh.” Your eyes became wide in surprise. “Thanks… I guess?”

You felt his chest rumble against your cheek. Your face heating up as you realized that he’s laughing at you. Yup, yup! Surely, you can die now. Preferably now… Where the man you’ve harboured a crush for, is laughing at you.

Maker knows, Din probably thinks how stupid you are with your reaction. And as you listen to him laugh, wholeheartedly as it rumbled through the air; you frowned and huffed.

“You don’t have to be mean about it, Mando.”

His laugh became quiet. Uncharacteristically so, that you almost felt bad for, well, making him feel bad. But then again, he did laugh at your childish antics. 

Okay, but again, this was his fault for leaving you. For making you feel alone that you had sought out comfort in a stuffed creature.

“I wasn’t, sweet girl. He then paused, almost as if thinking the set of words that would fall from his mouth; careful of his own tongue. “Like I said, I think you’re cute.”

Well, thanks, Mando.

That means a lot coming from-


That’s not what he said.

“Go to sleep, cyar’ika. We have a long day ahead of us.”

A frown lined your lips, wanting to complain about the lack of need for slumber in your system now that he was here. However, that was the least of your concern as his previous words settled in and he had simply called you… cute.

Oh, Maker. You knew this was not the first time he had called you this. Maker, he had called you sweet girl and that very odd pet-name in Mando’a a billion of times. Yet, one simple word had caused your cheeks warming up in the chill dark.

You attempt to not think about it. Simply averted your attention to your stuffed bantha and how it oddly smelled of the ship. Something familiar, something that made sense. 

And what do you know? Soon enough, you yourself fall asleep.


Just as he predicted, it had been a long day. With the day spent mostly at the market, much to your Mandalorian’s demise, the two of you were quite busy picking food for your meals for the next upcoming weeks.

He had disappear for a minute. That you had noticed. Though, thinking it may had been some personal business, you didn’t press any questions and simply smiled when he had returned.

The baby cooed in your arms as you rocked him in your seat. His inky eyes fluttering close, heavily so as the little womp rat fought the slumber that invaded his tiny little green body. 

Shortly after, he had succumbed and a few tiny little baby snores came from him. Small giggles left your body as you watched him, unbeknownst to the watching eye of the Mandalorian in front of you.

You called him, never lifting your eyes up. “Mando?”

The man simply let out a hum, letting you know that he was actively listening.

“I’m gonna head down now. Would you like to keep him here?” Then you peered up, found him actively looking at you and you almost flushed at this gaze. “Or…

“He’ll be fine with you.” He nodded. Somehow, underneath the beskar, you felt him smile. “And feel free to take space in the cot as well.”

You opened your mouth to argue, wanting to claim that the cot was his and you were simply barging in. But the man was faster in thinking for you than you had thought and he shook his head. 

Just go. I’ll be with you in a few.”

And so, you kept your mouth shut and stood. Nodding as your final answer as you headed down and made sure to tuck the baby back into his pram, his own little porge toy secured in his three fingered hands. You smiled at the sight, before remembering your own sitting in Mando’s cot.

When you were finally headed for bed, the cot opened with a small noise. You made a noise of your own and yawned, only stoping to realize that, there, on his pillow, a little stuffed father sat. A note preciously situated beside it that, with a smile, you hastily pulled at to read.

For your growing collection. 
Sleep well, sweet girl.
— Mando