Loving Dyn
Pairing: Mandalorian/Dyn Jarren x Reader
Summary: A fluffy day in the life of Artist Mom, Daddy Dyn (sans helmet) and the little green bean who goes by Baby. Included is a very angsty flashback to the beginning of the relationship and how it turned into a dreamy delicate life. Mentions of sex.
Masterlist
“Miss Y/N?” A small voice squeaks from behind you.
You turn from your painting to meet the voice, a little girl stands in the doorway.
“Yes, Tira?” You hum, turning back to your work.
“Baby was doing tricks again. He fell asleep in the grass and I told no one to pick him up because I didn’t want no one to drop him.” Tira says quietly, eyes to the ground as she pulls on her tunic.
You sigh, putting down your brushes and palette next to the half finished canvas. “Will you please take me to him, Tira?”
The little girl nods, and you follow her out of the cottage and through the streets of your sleepy village. Tira holds the long sleeve of your gauzy white dress that flows behind you as you keep up with the child’s pace.
“Tira,” you say, stoping her and kneeling down to be at her height, you take her hands in yours. “Honey, did you ask Baby to do the tricks? You know Dyn & I don’t want him to be doing-“
“No, I promise Miss Y/N! He just does them!” She says, upset.
“Okay”, you nod, rubbing her arms, “I believe you.”
You stand back up and the little girl leads you to the meadow that separates the village from the forest. Three children crouch around Baby next to a weeping willow, and you’re relieved they are at least in the shade.
“Oh goodness” you sing, pulling your little green boy out of the grass and against your chest, you pause for a beat to hear it’s familiar breath and the childen rush around you. They all speak at once, saying they’re sorry.
“It’s okay, angels” you smile.
“It’s scary when he just goes to sleep like that,” a little white haired boy says, scratching his cheek.
You nod, “It is scary, isn’t it?” You can see your cottage from the tree and you start to walk, “Come on, walk back with me darlings.”
They follow you, chatting amongst themselves, relieved you are not mad.
When you return, you put Baby in his bassinet and pull your hair out of it’s bun and sigh. You push the bassinet into the living space and once he is situated next to your canvas you lightly brush your finger between Baby’s eyes, “What is going on in there?”
You return to your work. Or, try, rather. As you can’t help yourself but peak into the bassinet between every brushstroke.
Hours pass, and it’s not until the cottage is filled with the orange and pink glow of the sunset that your attention is broken by a coo.
“Oh!” You exclaim, putting down your supplies, “There you are! Hi Baby.”
You dip over the basinet and scratch behind his ears.
Suddenly there are arms around you and you yelp. Looking back you smile, it’s only Dyn and Baby gurgles at your surprise.
“Hello, lover.” You smile up at him behind you, dragging your pointer finger down the bridge of his exquisite nose.
When you met Dyn, he had been without his helmet for some time. No longer on the run, he settled on this planet with his boy and took a job teaching self defence classes in town.
He had been walking home through the forest after a class, walking along the stream when he came across a pair of shoes, canteen and a journal on a large, flat rock.
He looked around before out to the water where he saw you walking back towards the shore humming to yourself.
You laughed when you noticed you were being watched and someone had heard you singing to yourself. As you got closer to him, your embarrassment washed away and it was replaced with a pounding heart flutter you could hear in your ears and feel pulse through your cheeks. He was so striking, you had never seen such a strong face. Maybe it was his large angular nose, or the pursed lips under a thick bit of black moustache. Or perhaps it was his olive skin that glistened in the sunshine, chest peaking out behind a half buttoned beige shirt. Or how he stood with his hip popped slightly. But he took your breath away.
He pushed his hair out of his eyes when he noticed you staring at him and you still couldn’t help yourself. Your eyes followed along the line of his beautiful jaw up to the darkest, fiery eyes that stunned you. He was magnificent.
“It’s just so hot,” you laughed, trying to fill up the quiet empty space.
He didnt’t respond. You crossed your arms as you noticed your wet dress was clinging to your body. He’d been silent for so long, you didn’t know what to do so you walked towards your belongings with a meek smile.
“I-I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “You are very beautiful.”
You looked back at him, now grinning. “Thank you”.
“What is your name?”
“Y/N. What’s yours?”
“Dyn.”
“I’ve never seen you before, Dyn. I swim here every day, in the warm months, at least. I’d remember your face.” Your heart is still racing and you think quickly how you could drown in the sound of his gravelly voice. Dyn smiles, and you can’t believe someone with the strongest face you’ve ever seen could also look like sunshine. What was happening to you?!
“I don’t always walk home”
You nod, sitting down on the rock, pulling your shoes on and collecting your things, “Well, Dyn. Like I said, I swim here every day. Maybe I’ll see you?”
You did. The next day you heard his foot steps approach as you lay on the same rock in the sun, scribbling in your journal.
“Hi”, he said low and soft.
“Hi, Dyn”, you breathed back, closing the notebook and sitting up. You studied him for a moment, took in his face that already seemed so familiar. Had you dreamt of him the night before?
“Would you like to swim with me?”
“Yeah, I would” he answered, dropping his bag to the ground.
You slip your dress off over your head, wearing proper swimming garments this time and Dyn strips down to his bottom under clothes.
Your eyes fall on his battered chest for a moment, resisting the urge to trace your finger tips along the scars painted across his body. You look up into his eyes and smile, taking his hand. “Let’s go then”.
You lead him to the shore and he squeezes your hand, you clasp your free hand around it immediately. His hand in both of yours.
Your connection was instant, but the trust was earned slowly. You mesmerized Dyn and he was fascinated by your free spirit and your need to create. From your commissioned work to your detailed personal journals, he admired your ever-present desire to express yourself. You sang. You danced. You screamed. You were emotional. You were as fresh and alive as a summer rain, but most importantly, you were patient. Because as it turned out, Dyn was quite the opposite. He was guarded. He was quiet. He was calculated. Dyn knew he needed someone who could let him catch up. He had seen the whole galaxy, but hadn’t a clue how to exist in it. He wanted someone to emulate, not push him to discomfort or try to fix him, but to be there while he found his place again.
It was difficult at the beginning, him being a man of few words. There were many nights when Dyn woke in a cold sweat and hard panting. You’d pull him close to you, his bare back against your chest and he’d squeeze your hand. You’d wait until his breathing would return to normal and you’d let the tears pool at the inner corner of your eye. You felt so hopeless in these moments, as Dyn had yet to open up to you in a way that could help you soothe him. You didn’t know why he had these nightmares, and when you asked he just brushed it off as an overactive imagination. When you asked about the small green elephant in the room, he changed the conversation around to how much Baby adored you and how beautiful you looked caring for him. You didn’t know where he came from and you didn’t know where he was going and you were sometimes frightened that maybe once he found his place you’d realize all that you really had was something physical propelled by some apparent trauma. Fucking so he didn’t have to think.
You squeezed your eyes shut and you waited for morning, breaking your own heart.
Things reached a fever pitch one evening when you accidentally came across his blaster when looking for more blankets for Baby. He was hesitant in telling you were it came from and It broke you. You had always been patient with Dyn and his emotional vacancy. Eating what scraps he gave you of what was going on inside with desperation for you ultimately believed you would one day be rewarded. But as you stood here, nose red and lips swollen from crying, you realized you had been loving a brick wall.
“I have never pushed you, Dyn. But please, love, let me in.” You sobbed, standing across from him in the dark living room. “Let me love you, let me be here for you.”
“Why do you want to?!” He yelled, shaking his arms out, his eyes starting to go glassy with tears. His tone startled you. He looked away, and you took his face in your hands to turn him back to you. With his eyes closed, and wetness forming under them, you spoke.
“You deserve love, Dyn. And I want to give you all the love that I have. But you gotta let me in.”
You looked at him for a moment, his eyes still closed and you let your head hang low. You felt nauseous before the next words even left your mouth but you were at your end and they had to be said, “But if you can’t.... I can’t do this anymore.”
You felt Dyn stiffen. He clutched your wrists and it almost hurt.
“I can’t....” You sobbed. “I can’t....”
That night he told you everything. The death of his parents. The Mandalorians. The carnage he’s seen. The job that went south but blessed him with his boy. The confusing, unexplainable need to care for the sweet child. His terror in the possibility of still being found. His all consuming love for you. How he thought, if he kept you in the dark, you would be safe.
You spoke for hours, his beautiful head in your lap as he confessed every dark thought that had you feeling a million miles a part in the same room just a little while ago.
He spoke about how he never thought in his life he’d feel any kind of love for anything the way he loved you. That he knew it the moment he heard you humming in the stream that he wanted to hear that voice for the rest of his life.
He apologized for not opening up to you sooner and he promised with all of his being that he trusted you and he was ready to move on with you and Baby.
He fell asleep as you ran your fingers through his dark locks and you swore he looked... lighter.
You woke the next morning still on the couch and the sound of sizzling food and cooing coming from the kitchen. Rubbing your eyes, you follow the sounds and the smells and were met with the most precious sight.
Baby up on the counter, mixing something in a bowl with a wooden spoon almost as big as him and Dyn next to him, flipping through a recipe book with one hand and the other hovering at Baby’s back to brace him in case he were to fall.
Baby squeals at your presence and Dyn looks up giving you his sunshine smile.
“Pancakes and bacon?” He asked as you came around the counter, slipping yourself under his arm. You nodded.
He kissed your head and stopped to smell your hair before saying, “I love you.”
You understood now, and the next night he woke out of breath and in a sweat, you pulled him close to you. His back pressing against your chest and as Dyn squeezed your hand, you whispered, “I’ll protect you.” That night you felt him melt into the mattress for he knew, for the first time in his life, he is safe.
After this, slowly, every day became made up of the most delicate moments. Rubbing the lapels of the burgundy velvet suits you dressed Dyn in for the parties you were invited to by the purchasers of your art. The slow, very slow, walks through the village as Baby began to insist on walking on his own along with you and Dyn. Baby falling asleep against his chest on the walk home. Laying on the beach at the edge of town, brushing the fruit juices & seeds off your lovers moustache as he insisted on eating them whole with his hands. Teaching art classes to the children of the village, watching Baby squish paints in his hands with his little giggling friends. Dyn teaching you how to shoot by the early morning light in the secluded fields behind your cottage. The nights spent in the city to attend art shows, drunkenly laughing and skipping through the streets holding on to each other as the lights swirled in font of you. The communal meals with the village, resting your head on Dyn’s shoulder as he laughed with the other dads. You cherished every moment watching Baby grow up and every moment you got with Dyn alone. The date nights when the ship didn’t even get off the ground, deciding you’d much rather use your alone time to fuck as loud as you wanted without any fear of being walked in on. Looking down at him, his face between your legs as you perched on the same rock next to the stream in the forest. How he always came up to kiss you, his chin shining with your arousal. The way he always commented on his favourite of your clothing, your lower cut, long gauzy dresses. “You look like Mother Nature. My little woodland nymph.” You loved how every moment became a delicate dance, the way he looked at you when you spoke. How he now grabbed you in his sleep, just to have you close. The evenings reading to him on the couch as Baby rolled around between you.
There came a point when you couldn’t even remember the dark days anymore. It was just you, Dyn and Baby and the hazy beautiful moments of your dreamy little life.
“Guess who was doing “tricks” again today” you say, looking up from Baby who is eating in your lap. Dyn sits across from you, he had been watching you feed the child and he blinks.
“Come on buddy”, he groans, rubbing his eyes. Baby coos back loudly with food in it’s mouth.
“Yeah, I’m talkin’ about you!” Dyn jokes, looking right at Baby.
You laugh, bringing the soup a little closer for the sweet green bean to reach and sip himself.
“I just worry that it hurts him.” You sigh.
“So do I.” Dyn says, crossing his arms. “Are the kids egging him on to do it again?”
“Tira swears he does it on his own.”
Dyn uncrosses his arms and leans forward with them out, “Here give me Baby, you eat.”
You lift Baby out of your lap and across the table and his soup follows.
“Can I come into town with you tomorrow?” You ask Dyn as you dig into your dinner.
“Of course, for what?”
“I need more paints. I don’t know, maybe a new canvas. I’m not happy with that.” You respond, nodding towards the half complete work by he corner windows.
“What are you talking about? It’s stunning,” Dyn throws his head back and exclaims, “STUNNING!”
Baby looks up at his loud father with wide eyes. You grin, “Thank you darling but I think I’m losing sight on what the client wants. This might be too much.”
“I’m so proud of you.” Dyn says in regards to the largest commission you’ve ever received, one for the painting you currently hate. “You’re the finest artist in the galaxy.”
You giggle, until you realize Baby is bouncing in daddy’s lap, three tiny fingers grasped around a cutlery knife.
“Ah! Dyn!” You say, pointing to his lap.
“Not a toy!” Dyn scolds, prying the knife out of his boy’s tiny grip.
Tags: @katira-moon-baby @otherthingsinhead @fahhhhq ❤️
A/N: This was my first ever fic! I hope you enjoyed. Love, Zelda.