#blue is the first one to find out lizards are edible because they WILL try to eat anything

[i3utterflyeffect]

anyway here's an image of me and my new son

[oloreaa]

Cherry

I looked at too many GIFs of Baby Yoda so the mushy feelings had to go somewhere.

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x gn!reader (Reader is shorter than him though)

Summary: Fruit picking with the Child and a helpful Mandalorian. The Child speaks his first word.

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: none, just fluff, some yearning and cuteness of the baby. Literally, 80% is Baby Yoda eating fruit whilst being adorable

Tags: @binggrae-banana-milk

Moodboard by @huliabitch, thank you so much🥺❤

The Razor Crest was somewhere behind you, you and the Child having escaped the stale, recycled air almost the instant the ramp had lowered. You only waited long enough for the Mandalorian to give you the green light for the planet and scooped up the little child in your arms, breathing in the sweet smelling air from outside.

“Look at that!” you exclaimed, pointing to the woodland around you, bobbing the Child slightly. He babbled excitedly in response, and wriggled so much you had to put him down. Then he was off, his little legs carrying him away like the wind.

Sighing contentedly, you followed the green little baby, and looked over your shoulder to see where the Mandalorian was.

He seemed to be doing some check-ups on the ship, and nodded at you when you raised a hand in a small wave. You took it as permission to go explore with the Child, and turned around again to see where he had gone.

The little one pointed up at a hill where some big trees were growing, branches heavy with fruit, and he squealed happily, little teeth showing.

You grinned at him. “You want to go fruit picking?” Quickly, you scooped him up, turned around, and went back to the Crest. The long grass around you tickled your legs, and you had to carefully push some of the longer ones away from your waist so they wouldn't graze the little one. The Child had picked a bright blue flower you passed on your way that he is examining thoroughly now, little button nose disappearing into the petals.

“Do you have something like a basket?” you asked the beskar-covered man as soon as you were back into hearing range.

He shook his head without looking up.

A bit disheartened by his nonverbal dismissal, you went back on the ship, crossing the plank in big steps to go back to not bothering him as quickly as possible. It wasn’t like you didn’t trust him — he had proven again and again that he would protect his foundling with every fibre of his being, and you by extension, since you were with the green child most of the time. But sometimes, you want more.

You wanted him to care about you as well, as much as he cared for the child. But that’s selfish, and you know that you should be glad for everything you already got from him.

Setting the Child down in the inside of the Crest, his dark eyes wide with curiosity, you booped his nose playfully.

“I gotta find something to carry fruits with when we find some,” you explained it to him as you started to look through the crates. None of it contained what you need, being either too large or too bulky to handle, as well as a mixture of both.

The Child cooed as his ears pointed upwards, his tiny teeth flashing, and he started to waddle towards the fresher. Pointing his three-fingered hand into the direction, he looked back at you again.

“Do you think there is something in there?”

Following him into the small fresher, you found him standing under the shelf that had a few towels in it. He tried to tug a folded one out of the stack, but fell on his little bottom with a soft thud. A gasp escaped him, then an irritated squeak, but since he did not start to cry, you figured everything was all right.

“Aw, sweetpea, did you hurt yourself?” you asked nonetheless, and the little noise he made as an answer was enough reassurance. Taking out the towel he tried to acquire, you beamed at him.

“Now, we can go and pick some fruit!” The Child squealed excitedly, dark eyes huge and beautiful. You place him onto your hip again, the towel secured under the other arm.

Leaving the ship via the ramp, blinded momentarily by the bright sun, you squint your eyes and called out: “We’re going up that hill! There are some fruit trees on top.”

“Alright,” came the modulated rasp, acknowledging your endeavour.

Setting the Child down, the little one toddled off, going towards the direction of the hill.

You began the ascend up the hill, the sun above you wonderfully warm and welcoming. It was not a steep climb but you still had to pause several times to let the Child catch up. His huge ears look almost pink with the sun shining through them, and he is huffing adorably due to the exercise.

You gasped in delight when you got to the highest part of the hill. The long grass swayed gently in the wind around you, the smell of wildflowers and dry earth permeated your nose, and you could hear insects buzzing nearby. Behind you, the Child shrieked in delight, as he chased after some sort of lizard, running — surprisingly fast for his short legs — past you.

The view was beautiful. The sky had a hint of lilac, and the lush woodland below it complemented it perfectly. There was a lake somewhere off in the distance, the reflection glittering in the sun. Next to you, the branches of the trees were hanging low, heavy with ripe fruit. The foliage was thick and the leaves had jagged edges, shaped like a five-pointed star.

Reaching up, you picked the fist-sized fruit, and inspected it, recognizing it as Jogan fruit. It was sold at a market a few planets ago, and the Mandalorian had bought a few of them, but they were not cheap. You remembered how much the Child had liked the sweet juice, eating most of the fruits so you and the Mandalorian had to share a single one.

“Baby! Look what I found!” you called out, looking around for the big ears visibly poking up through the grass, currently wrangling a little creature. He dropped the lizard that he had caught, and turned with a cross little expression on his face.

He evidently just caught the creature and by being a distraction, you gave it a chance to escape.

You had to refrain from laughing at his adorably scrunched up nose and the little turned down mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you managed to say, trying to keep the giggles in, “but look what I found! Remember these? You liked it a lot.” And with a mischievous smile, you showed him the dark fruit.

His eyes widened instantly, and he reached out with his hands, making a grabbing motion. You gave it to him, laughing when he started to nibble on the fruit, struggling to hold it up, taking small chunks out of it. The juice seeped out, probably staining his face and fingers, but you decided not to fuss over it. He has enough clothes for one pair to become stained.

Shaking out the towel slung over your arm, you set it on the ground, and the Child plopped down on it, still holding on to the fruit, eating happily as he trilled in delight. Oh, how you wished you had a holo recorder, this was simply adorable.

Unable to stop smiling, you stood up and started to pick some more of the fruits, gathering a few of them in your palm, until they stacked up. Then, you placed them next to the Child who was chewing contentedly, making a little pile.

The pile steadily grew, and you stopped harvesting the one tree, moving on to the next one. The Child was still busy gorging himself on the first Jogan fruit, and you decided that you can go a bit further with a cursory glance around the hill. The next fruit tree had small, red berries that hang higher than the other ones, in thick clusters, and you knew that these are Nubian cherries, also edible. They were probably brought in by farmers and then just started to proliferate until they also grew in the wild.

You went to work, reaching for the berries and getting as many as you could carry.

Alternating between going back and forth between the blanket where the Child was sitting, you carefully put the cherries down next to him. In no time at all, the child also started to eat the cherries, bright pink juice dripping out of his mouth and hands.

You popped a few of them into your mouth, eating them as you stood up again to collect more. Your fingers and palms slowly become sticky, along with your lips, the juice clinging to your skin.

After a short while, you heard your name being called.

“Mando! We’re up here!” you called back, and strained, getting on your tiptoes to reach for the next cluster.

He arrived a few minutes later, almost completely silent. You suspect that you can only hear him because he lets you.

“We found Jogan fruits,” you told him without turning around, still trying to get that one stubborn cherry cluster that was eluding you, “Also these cherries, if we deep freeze them they could last for a whole cycle—” you cut off your own sentence when he stood directly behind you, near enough to almost touch, and picked it for you by reaching over your head.

You held your breath without realizing it, heat starting to creep up in your cheeks. He was standing so close, you were sure that his chest would brush your back if you exhaled hard enough.

He then dropped the cluster in your open palm, and you turned your head, looking at him with a warm face. He was right behind you, almost looming, surrounding you without any direct contact at all.

You were sure that without the beskar, you would be able to feel his warmth from the close proximity.

“Thanks,” you managed to choke out, eyes wide and breath embarrassingly shallow.

His visor tilted a bit, and somehow you get the impression that he is smiling. “How many did you eat?" Mando asked, voice low and amused.

(Little did you know that his eyes were trained on your cherry-stained lips, looking entirely too tempting, and a small part in him wished to know if you tasted the same.)

“How many cherries I—” you started to repeat stupidly, before you pulled yourself together. “I don’t really know, five? Six? Most of them are by the little one.” You pointed to the green child, shoulders sagging from relief when the Mandalorian turned away from you, his scrutiny now on his foundling.

Even though you trusted the man with your life, you could not deny that his presence was often overwhelming. It didn’t help the small crush you had on him, at all.

Thank the Maker you could at least focus on the Child, or at least use him as an excuse to get the Mandalorian to stop looking at you so intensely.

He walked to the little one and knelt, bracing his arm on his leg. The Child looked up at him and beamed with shining eyes, his face smeared with juice. You could feel the love that radiated from the tiny being towards his adopted father, and couldn’t help your small smile at the sight.

“Hey, ad'ika,” the Mandalorian mumbled, his hand caressing the Child’s oversized ears. “You like this?” In response, the Child babbled happily, his ears perking up and grinned, little teeth peeking out.

You went back to picking cherries, letting the Mandalorian and his foundling have a bit of father-son bonding time.

Most of the cherries that you could reach have already been picked, and the rest are ones that have gone bad. It must have rained here recently since some of the cherries show signs of bursting. Taking one of the branches, you gently pull on it at a steady pace, careful not to snap anything or break it off. When the branch was low enough, you were able to pick some more of the fruit.

The new ones looked even better than the ones you had picked already, so you ate some of them, the taste clinging to your lips.

“Which ones do you want?” The Mandalorian asked, startling you by suddenly appearing behind you again. With a yelp, you let go of the branch that you were still holding on, and it snapped upwards, hitting your face in the process.

“Oh, kriff—” you cursed, hand going to your aching cheek.

“I— I’m sorry—” he started to apologise, his hands hanging in the air, still outstretched.

“No, no, it’s okay—” you tried to reassure him, waving your hand dismissively, “it’s my fault, I didn’t hear you—”

“Are you alright? Let me—”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing-”

He grasped your chin, effectively cutting your rambling short. Turning your face slightly, he pushed the hand you still had on your face away. Observing your swollen skin on the spot where the branch had hit you, he tilted his head slightly.

You didn’t dare to breathe.

A thumb carefully dragged over the throbbing spot, so feather-light that you did not truly know if he actually touched you, and you couldn’t help your slightly shaky exhale, eyes still wide, staring up at him, mouth slightly open. The sunlight reflected off his helmet, the sweet smell of wild grass somehow enhancing everything. How did he manage to make you bashful and tongue-tied this easily? By just being there, not even truly touching you?

(He stared at you as well, heart leaping, but he told himself that it meant nothing. It had nothing to do with how flustered you looked and how bright your eyes were.)

“As soon as we get back, you’re putting some ice on that,” he said firmly, and you hid the soft smile that was on your lips.

“Alright,” you whispered.

He let you go and nodded almost awkwardly, before he started to help you harvest the cherries, his taller frame letting him reach ones you hadn’t been able to get. He picked them and then placed the fruit in your cupped palms.

You couldn’t help but admire his figure when he was this close, and scolded yourself for having such thoughts with a burning face, heart fluttering in your chest.

When your hands were almost overflowing with cherries, he stopped, and lessened the tension on the branch carefully and gradually until it could snap back as gently as possible.

“Thanks for helping me," you said, trying to suppress your flush.

A soft “You’re welcome” came back, his voice warm.

You started off back towards the blanket, and put the fruits down. Some of them rolled away, towards the Child, who had finished his first Jogan fruit, the pit of it still covered in chunks of fruit since he couldn’t coordinate so well yet.

The Mandalorian approached the towel-turned-picnic-blanket, and sat down next to you.

“There is more than enough fruit for all of us,” you told both of them, “We could deep freeze what we cannot finish when we go back.”

The Child cooed at you, smiling brightly as he waddled towards the pile, hands stained red with sticky juice, and he picked up a Jogan fruit. With his heavy bounty, he struggled to get to the Mandalorian, but when he arrived at his destination, his ears were pointed up in affection. With a squeak, he rolled the fruit towards his father.

You observed this with your heart almost overflowing with love. This was the cutest thing you had ever seen.

“Thank you, ad'ika,” the Mandalorian said, voice rough, tracing the little one’s cheek. Closing his eyes, the green child nuzzled into his touch, and garbled something that sounded suspiciously like “dada”.

You and the Mandalorian both look at each other at the same time, faces snapping towards each other.

“Did he just—?”

“—yes.”

His entire body reflected his bewilderment, and he sounded overwhelmed, his voice cracking in a way you decided not to comment on. He scooped up the Child onto his lap, the lighter fingertips of his gloves showing perfectly how he carries the little one like a fragile bird, the Jogan fruit forgotten on the blanket.

He then started to talk to him in Mando'a, voice low and full of affection. You had to blink several times to chase the sting in your eyes away, too touched by the little moment you had been allowed to witness.

(And if you were pretty sure that the Mandalorian was tearing up while he was speaking to his son, well, no one has to know.)