Summary: A mechanic on Tatooine flirts with you. Din handles it about as well as you'd expect.
Warnings: Suggestive language (at the end), very jealous and possessive Din, mutual pining, established-but-not-established relationship, tooth rotting fluff, nicknames.
Word Count: 2.3k
Notes: This is very much inspired by Dandelion by Ariana Grande, it's literally the entire point of this fic LOL. Please feel free to send me requests guys, I hope you enjoy!
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“Mando!”
Peli called out to Din before the ramp of the Crest finished lowering. You and Grogu followed behind him, giving Peli a shy wave before she greeted you both.
The ship had been making strange noises for the past few days, and you’d finally convinced Din to get it checked out. After several protests, he gave in.
It was hard for him to say no to you.
“What did you do to her this time?” Peli asked.
“Nothing,” Din replied.
She pointed at the ship and shook her head. “This is what ‘nothing’ looks like?”
You and Din were…something? You’d slipped into this territory where you were basically together, but you weren’t. Not officially, anyway.
You went everywhere with Din. There was never a moment when you weren’t beside him.
He even had a nickname for you — Dandelion.
You’d encountered the small flowers on a planet once, and you were so excited to show Din. Usually, he wouldn’t care, but when it came to you...everything mattered.
The nickname just stuck after that. It started when he called you Dandelion one time, it sort of just slipped out, but you didn’t correct or question him.
You let it happen.
It was little things like that. Things that could be passed off as friendly, but also chartered on the territory of something you don’t do when you’re ‘just friends.’
You even took care of Grogu together. Everyone just assumed you two were a thing.
Peli had introduced you and Din to her new apprentice, and Din took note of the way the mechanic couldn’t seem to stop eyeing you up. Maker, he already had a disdain for this guy. Who even was he? And why was he looking at you like that, and—
“Mando, are you listening?”
Peli’s voice cut through.
Din tore his gaze away from the mechanic reluctantly and looked at her.
“I said your hyperdrive’s practically held together with hope and bad decisions. You planning on fixing it, or just praying harder?”
“I’ll fix it,” Din said flatly.
“Sure you will.” Peli huffed, already waving him off. “Jace, get over here.”
So that was his name.
Jace.
The apprentice finally stepped out from under the Razor Crest, wiping his hands on a rag as he straightened up. He was younger than Din expected. Like someone who belonged in a place like this.
“Hey,” Jace said, like he already knew you.
Din didn’t like that. He didn’t like it at all.
Peli slapped the side of the ship. “Tell him what you see.”
Jace tilted his head, already walking a slow circle around the Crest. “You flew this thing in like this?”
“Yes,” Din answered.
Jace let out a short laugh. “On purpose?”
That got a small sound out of you. Something amused. Just a soft laugh. Not even directed at him, but Din heard it anyway.
Jace crouched again, peering under a panel. “Yeah…this is gonna take a bit. Compressor’s shot. Wiring’s been rerouted three times by someone who didn’t know what they were doing.”
“I knew what I was doing,” Din said sharply.
Jace hummed. “Sure.”
Peli snorted. “Careful, kid. That’s a Mandalorian you’re insulting.”
Jace just shrugged. Then, like it was nothing, he glanced up at you again.
“So you travel with him?”
That question landed wrong immediately.
It wasn't because it was rude, but more because it sounded casual, as if he was interested in you.
Like he was trying to place you somewhere in his life.
Din answered before you could.
“Yes.”
Jace’s eyes flicked to Din’s helmet, then back to you.
“Oh,” he said simply, and for some reason, that was worse than if he’d said anything else. Then he smiled again. “Got it.”
Peli started saying something to Jace about parts they would need, and you had wandered off to inspect some random pit droid Grogu had decided was fascinating.
Din followed automatically because of course he did. He stopped beside you.
“Dandelion.”
You looked up immediately. “Hm?”
“You wanted to go to the market.”
“Oh!” You brightened. “Can we?”
Din nodded. “We have time.”
You smiled so brightly Din thought, not for the first time, that he’d fly across the galaxy if it meant seeing that look.
Beside you, Grogu made a happy noise and raised both arms.
“Yes, you too,” you laughed, scooping him up. “We’re bringing you.”
The little foundling cooed happily and settled against you.
Normal.
Everything about this was normal.
Then:
“Dandelion, hm?”
Peli’s voice made all three of you look over. You smiled. Grogu blinked.
Din just tilted his head.
“Yeah.”
Peli stared. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
She pointed between you. “Dandelion?”
“It’s her nickname,” Din shrugged.
Your smile somehow grew.
“It is,” you confirmed.
Grogu patted his little arms against you.
Peli gave you both a knowing look and shook her head with a chuckle before returning her focus to the ship.
Once you got to the market, you were excitedly tugging at Din’s arm like he belonged to you.
You stopped at a stall selling small woven charms, leaning in with interest.
“These are pretty,” you chirped.
Din made a low sound of agreement. “They are.”
You picked one, holding it up to Grogu.
“Do you like it?" you asked him softly. You got a happy coo in response. “I think that means yes.”
Din didn’t comment, but he was already reaching for credits. You blinked innocently at him — this was normal. Very, very normal. You’d never paid for a single thing in the time you’d known Din.
He took care of you like that. It came naturally to him.
“You didn’t have to,” you said with a smile.
“I know,” he replied. “I wanted to.”
You smiled softly. “Thank you, Din.”
Grogu made a happy noise as Din tucked the charm away carefully like it mattered more than it should.
Because it did.
Everything you touched, he treated like it mattered. Even when it shouldn’t have.
When you finally made your way back toward the Crest, Grogu half-asleep against your shoulder, the market noise fading behind you, Din walked a little closer than before.
“It was nice,” you said, looking at Din. “Thank you for taking me.”
“Of course.”
His hand rested against your lower back out of habit.
“You always do that,” you mentioned.
“I know,” he replied.
“…Why?”
Din didn’t answer right away. He just kept walking beside you like the answer was obvious but didn’t need to be spoken.
“Dunno,” he said finally.
But his hand stayed on your back anyway like it always did, until you returned.
The Crest sat open under the hangar lights, still mid-repair when Jace spotted you.
“Hey,” he called, straightening from where he’d been working. “You’re back.”
You smiled. “Yeah.”
Grogu immediately perked up in your arms, making a soft sound when he saw him.
Jace grinned at that. “Hey, little guy.”
Din followed closely behind you but didn’t say anything.
Jace’s attention flicked to you again.
“So,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag like he suddenly had nowhere else to be. “Market was good?”
“It was really nice. He showed me a few new stalls,” you said, gesturing to the Mandalorian that stood close.
When you mentioned him, Din’s helmet angled slightly.
Jace nodded.
“Yeah? That sounds fun. I…was actually hoping I’d catch you before you left again.”
Din shook his head slightly, as if he already knew where this was going.
“I was thinking,” Jace continued, stepping a little closer to you, “maybe next time I could show you around instead. There’s a couple places this guy probably doesn’t bother taking people.”
This guy?
Grogu shifted in your arms.
Din said your name softly. You turned immediately, like always.
“Hm?”
“Come here for a second."
You didn’t hesitate.
You stepped right back to his side, like gravity corrected itself.
Grogu visibly relaxed again.
Jace blinked.
“Oh. Uh, sorry, I didn’t mean…” His voice trailed off.
Din finally looked at him.
“What are you doing?” Din asked.
Jace laughed a little, trying to read the tone. “Just talking. She seemed interested in the market, so I figured—”
“She’s not a job.”
The silence that followed was uncomfortable.
Even Grogu went still.
Jace blinked again. “I didn’t say she was. I just meant I could show her places around here, that’s all.”
Din tilted his head slightly.
“You work here.”
“Yeah," Jace replied.
“You fix ships.”
“Right.”
“You fix ships,” Din repeated, putting an emphasis on ‘fix.’
Jace’s smile faltered a little. “Yeah…I do.”
Din nodded once, like the conversation was concluded.
“So do that.”
Silence stretched.
You shifted slightly beside him, confused now.
“Is everything okay?” you asked softly.
Din didn’t look away from Jace.
“Yes.”
Jace, still trying to recover, forced a lighter tone.
“I mean, no harm intended. I just thought she might want to see more of the city. All good intentions.”
Din finally moved enough that Jace instinctively stopped talking.
Peli stood up from beneath the Crest, wiping her hands on a rag.
“Good,” she said, cutting in before Din could get any snarkier. “Because I am not cleaning blood off my landing bay.”
You laughed, looking at Din with smile as you felt him place his hand gently on your back again.
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The ship was finally kriffing done.
And Maker, Din was glad to be out of Mos Eisley. If he’d been there any longer, he would’ve started a war against the mechanic that was pining after you.
He’d been quieter than usual, fidgeting with the controls in the cockpit. You noticed it right away as you watched him innocently from the passenger seat.
The hum of the engines filled the silence between you.
“Din?” you asked as you tilted your head.
His hands paused over the controls.
“Hm?”
You waited a beat, like you were choosing your words carefully, but there was no real hesitation in your voice.
“Are you mad at me?" you asked softly.
That got him to look over.
“No.” His words were flat.
“…Okay.”
Silence.
“You’ve been quiet,” you added, tone still soft.
“I’m always quiet.”
“It’s different,” you whined, now having his full attention. “Don’t be like that, Din.”
More silence followed.
With a sigh, he looked at you through his visor.
“What do you want, Dandelion?”
The nickname made your heart jump. His tone was gentle, it was never anything less than that with you, even though the question sounded packed.
“C’mere,” he said, giving you no time to think of what to say.
You got up hesitantly and tilted your head slightly in confusion.
Clearly, you didn’t move fast enough for him though, because he decided that he wasn’t wasting anymore time. With a gentle tug, he pulled you down onto his lap, making your cheeks heat up.
Right there in the pilots chair, you were sat on Din Djarin’s lap, facing him. You inhaled sharply.
“Din—“
“Please,” he said quietly.
You were frozen, unsure of what to say.
“I can’t do this whole day again,” he admitted quietly.
Your breath caught in your throat.
“What?”
“Watching you,” he said. “Laughing, talking — not knowing what it means.”
Your hands lifted slowly, resting against his chest plate.
“Oh…” you whispered.
He leaned forward just a fraction.
“I don’t know what I’m allowed to want,” he said quietly. “Are you mine? I don’t…”
For a second, it was quiet again. Then you spoke up.
“Don’t what?”
His hands tightened at your waist like he didn’t mean to do it.
“I don’t know how to stop wanting you.”
His admission made you go silent, but you found your voice in the quiet of it all.
“Why would you do that to yourself?” Your voice came out hushed. “When i’m over here trying to figure out how to keep my hands off you. You can't seriously think I want some random mechanic."
“Mesh’la,” he breathed. “You can’t just say things like that.”
“I'm not. I didn’t know you thought you were the only one doing this,” you said softly. “You don’t have to wonder if i’m yours, Din.”
“Don’t I?” His voice came out raspy, like he was barely breathing under the beskar.
“No,” you said teasingly. “Definitely not.”
You settled more comfortably into him, like you belong there and the ship had just finally caught up to what you already knew.
Slowly, you reached up. You weren't rushing.
Your fingers found the edge of his glove.
You tugged it off loosely with quiet focus, like it was the most normal thing in the galaxy, and slipped it off his hand.
He let you.
The glove landed somewhere behind you with a soft thud, like you’d just removed something much more intimate.
Din went very still.
“…What are you doing?” he asked, voice much lower than before.
You glanced at him innocently.
“Nothing.”
And then, like it was nothing at all, you reached for his other hand too, slipping that glove off as well, slower this time. Your fingers brushed his skin just long enough to make the air change.
You set it aside without looking.
You plan on being here long enough that he won’t need them.
It seemed like he was trying to keep himself in place. You hummed softly with satisfaction, and leaned into him again like nothing happened.
Like you didn’t just undo him one layer at a time.
The bullet strap across his chest shifted slightly when you moved your arm. Without thinking, you tugged it off his shoulder just enough to slide it free.
And instead of putting it back where it belongs, you tossed it over the pilot console behind him, casually.
Din exhaled sharply. His voice was strained.
“…Dandelion.”
You tilted your head slightly.
“Yeah?”
Silence stretched as the ship hummed
You took notice of the stars that drifted past the viewport.
And his hands, now bare, tightened at your waist again like he was running out of ways to keep himself steady.
Summary: One nasty fever and too much medicine are all it takes for Din Djarin to finally admit what months of stolen glances and terrible flirting couldn't. The good news: you remember every word. The even better news: you've been waiting for him to say it.
Warnings: Fluff, medicine-induced honesty, Din being down bad, Grogu acting as emotional support, yearning, first kiss, established feelings, mild fever delirium, one (1) stubborn Mando.
Word count: 2.8k
Notes: My second fic for Din ever! Yay. Also, to everyone who sent me requests, I promise I am working hard on them! Once again, so sorry if some of the information is off canon or something. I have barely scratched the first season of the show.
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Miserable.
If Din Djarin could use one word to sum up the illness that was running its course through his exhausted body right now, it would be miserable.
He couldn’t remember the last time he was actually sick. He would sustain some grueling injuries more often than not, but this was something else.
His voice was hoarse, his muscles ached profoundly, and he swore he could feel this fever down to bones.
The Razor Crest felt remarkably humid, and Maker, all the beskar that covered Din’s body didn't help.
You’d done your best to take care of him, doting on him every chance you got, but that didn’t change how uncomfortable it was to be in a full suit of armour while he felt his absolute worst.
You knew Din was especially stubborn, but that didn’t deter you from trying to convince him to take off the beskar.
You’d managed to keep the ship cool, turning the temperature down to the point where you were past freezing, but your comfort was the last thing on your mind.
Taking care of a certain sick Mandalorian was first.
Trying to balance taking care of the child and doting on Din at the same time was a lot of work, but you were managing. Grogu seemed to understand that the usually menacing bounty hunter was a little under the weather right now.
Anytime you would bring Din medicine, water, soup, anything – little footsteps would follow tightly behind you.
The child babbled at your side when you placed a bowl of warm soup by the cot, worried about his dad.
“I know, honey,” you said softly while the child was looking up at you with his big, round eyes. His green ears tilted down slightly. “He’s not himself today, is he?”
In response, Grogu cooed and reached up to signal that he wanted you to hold him. You obliged of course.
You couldn’t help but feel a surge of warmth in your chest. It was almost cute seeing Din like this. A man usually so intimidating and reserved was now reaching out for you and the child, acting like he’d just been shot as he reached for the bowl of soup.
If you were completely honest, you liked being his medic. Especially when you had such a cute helper by your side.
You sighed, looking at the sick Mandalorian.
“That bad, huh?”
He groaned in response.
Even though you couldn’t see his face, you knew that behind his helmet, he couldn't have been smiling.
“Let’s let dad eat and rest, okay little one?” you said to the child in your arms. He made a small noise in agreement, and you grabbed a thin blanket before the two of you made your way outside.
Din had set the Razor Crest down in a quiet, forgotten stretch of space on a planet with no name that mattered since the two of you were in between traveling when he’d gotten sick.
It was beautiful here. Wide, open fields of grass and meadows. The wind was crisp and there was a river that quietly rippled nearby. A beautiful planet that was so peaceful and full of life.
As you wrapped the blanket around yourself, you watched the child play in the grass and wobble around. You smiled to yourself at the sight, your heart feeling warm again. You’d imagined a life like this before:
Just you, Din, and the child living a peaceful, quiet life off the grid.
You had a feeling it may have crossed Din's mind, too.
Grogu made a happy noise snapping you out of your thoughts as you watched him pick up little things such as flowers and pebbles with the force. A small laugh escaped your lips.
“Good job, little guy!”
The child made more noises of excitement and happiness, and you felt complete. The only thing missing was Din beside you.
You’d been too preoccupied to notice, but Din had been watching you and Grogu from the ship. He’d gotten up to get some water, too stubborn to bother you for something so simple, and noticed that you were outside.
Din felt his heart beat faster in his chest as he watched.
Why’d you have to be so cute?
He wondered if you knew that he thought about you in this way, but he was leaning towards no.
The wind tugged at the edges of your blanket as your hair blew softly in the wind, and Grogu was still mindlessly wandering outside with your company.
It was astonishing how something so simple made him feel so many things.
Quietly, he made his way back to bed to rest, silently wishing you’d come and dote on him so he could catch a glimpse of your face again.
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“Hey, you.”
Your soft voice woke Din out of his sleep, and the gentle touch of your hands on his shoulder made his heart flip.
“You’re here…” he grumbled as his gloveless hand came to touch yours. You felt your cheeks heat up slightly and you let out a hum of acknowledgment.
He’d never done that before. Especially not with his gloves off.
It took all your strength to pull your hand away from his. You held up a small glass bottle.
“Medicine,” you announced softly. “It’ll help you feel better.”
“Don’t need it.”
You sighed and shook your head with a smile.
The stubbornness of this grown man, you thought.
“I’m going to leave this here in case you need it, then. Rest up, Mando.”
Mando.
The nickname made him perk up for a moment; he loved hearing your voice. He watched you quietly leave again, but he wished that you’d stay.
Your touch was so warm. Again, he found himself wondering if you knew what you were doing to him.
Din had been…testing the waters recently, so to say.
He was trying to see if you noticed the subtle things he did or said. Then, he would study you carefully to gauge your reaction. It was never anything super forward or out there, but he’d been trying in his own way.
At first, he started standing a little closer to you when there was space for him to be further. Just to see. He wouldn’t move away if you stepped into his space.
One time, he even placed his hands gently against your waist while trying to move past you. He noticed that when he did that, your cheeks went rosy.
Did you like when he did that? He desperately wanted to know.
Then his tone when speaking changed too.
He was reserved when you first came into his life. Very stoic and independent. He’d mostly nod to acknowledge what you said, but slowly and surely, he started to break.
Din reflected on that one time he slipped up and called you mesh’la, but luckily, you didn’t notice.
The growing ache in his body pulled Din away from his thoughts. Reality was so much worse than his fantasies with you in it.
Hesitantly, he reached over for the bottle of medicine you left. He was admitting defeat; this fever was awful.
Skimming over the instructions printed on the back of the glass, he lifted his helmet ever so slightly and downed the bottle.
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After preparing dinner for both you and Grogu, as well as another bowl of soup for Din, you heard babbling and squeals coming from where the Din was resting.
Glancing back at the table where you last placed the little green child to sit, you noticed he was missing.
“Sweetheart?" you asked softly, calling out to the child.
You walked into where Din was sleeping earlier, but he was up now. He was sitting upright and playing with Grogu. You sat on the edge of the cot with a warm smile, catching the attention of both Din and the kid.
“You’re up,” you said with surprise. “Feeling better?”
“There you are.” Din’s voice sounded slightly slurred through the modulator, the medicine clearly working its magic. He tilted his head and looked directly at you. “I like when you’re here.”
Your eyes widened. Was this just the cold medicine talking for him, or were your suspicions right?
“Din," you asked. “Did you take the entire bottle?”
“Yes.”
“You’re only supposed to take, like, half of that…”
“Oh.”
“Are you feeling alr–“
“You’re really pretty.”
You froze as his words interrupted yours.
Surprise was written on your face as you blinked. He let out a small laugh, clearly delirious from the medicine.
“I like when you stay, cyar’ika.”
Your heart was thumping against your chest. You couldn’t help but wonder again if he was truly out of it from the medication or if he was just loose around the edges right now.
Perhaps the medicine was simply blurring his inhibitions, making it easier for the truth to slip out.
After a few more moments of silence, you found your voice.
“You took a lot of medicine, Din.”
“I did, didn’t I?” he replied.
His helmet was tilted slightly, but you could tell he was looking right at you. You averted your gaze to the child who was babbling quietly in Din’s arms.
“So, by that logic, what you’re saying isn’t true. It’s just the medicine talking.“
“No, it’s true. I liiiike you.”
You had to hold back a laugh at the way he was talking, but you could feel your cheeks heating up more than ever.
“Okay, you need to lie back down. Come here, Grogu.”
You motioned the child towards you, unable to hide your smile. Grogu came waddling towards you on the bed. Gently, you scooped him into your arms and stood up, watching Din lie back down as he mumbled something to himself.
You looked at Grogu with a smile.
“What do you think, little one? Do you think he’s telling the truth?” The child babbled in agreement to your question, and you let out a breathy laugh. “Maker, you’re so cute.”
“Thanks. You’re cuter.”
You turned your attention back to Din.
“I was talking Grogu, but…you’re not so bad yourself, Mando. I’d like to see how much of this you’ll remember tomorrow morning, though.”
“Okaaaaay.”
And true to your word, you held him to it.
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Morning eventually rolled around.
You were up early making breakfast with the child by your side. He squealed suddenly, causing you to turn around, only to be met with a familiar tall, broad figure covered in shiny metal.
He sits down and his tone is normal again.
“Morning.”
“Good morning," you replied normally.
He didn’t say anything else, but...you didn’t like the silence. You wanted to ask him about last night.
However, in order to save whatever dignity he had left after that, you decided to hold off on any serious questions for now.
“How are you feeling?” you asked.
“Like I got hit by a speeder," he huffed.
Din looked over at you and suddenly, bits of pieces of last night came back to him.
“You’re really pretty.”
“I like when you stay.”
“I liiike you.”
He shifted in his seat.
“Did I…say something to you yesterday?” he asked.
You stayed silent for a moment before answering.
“You were extra affectionate last night,” you replied. It almost sounded like you were teasing him.
Din froze and he pretended not to remember. “…Was I?”
“Mm, very.” You gave him your full attention as you set breakfast down. “Nothing bad, though.”
He cleared his throat. “What exactly do you mean by affectionate?”
You bit back a smile as you replied, “Oh, you know. Wanted me to stay close, kept reaching for my hand.”
“...Right. I was sick.”
“Mhm.”
“I don’t remember any of that.”
That was a lie, and a terrible one at that. Even with the helmet on, you could practically see him replaying the memories in real time.
“Did I say anything strange?” he asked carefully.
There it was – your chance to dig deeper.
“Depends on your definition of strange,” you replied with a shrug. “Honestly, most of it was sweet.”
“Sweet?”
“Well,” you began. “You told me that I'm pretty.”
He groaned, but you continued.
“You also said that I'm cute. Then you said that you...liked me.”
Another groan.
“And–”
“That’s enough.”
“It isn’t, actually.”
Din didn’t argue back.
“You were very honest,” you continued with a small smile.
“How honest?” His voice was low.
“Relax. You didn’t reveal any Republic secrets or anything.”
“You know that’s not what I’m worried about.”
The words slipped out before he could stop them, and silence settled between you. Din froze. You froze.
For a second, neither of you moved.
“No,” you said, breaking the silence. “I suppose it isn’t.”
Gone was the attempt to play dumb. Gone was the denial. The truth settled between you and him in the stillness.
“So,” you added, unable to resist. “The good news is that you were very polite about it.”
Din let out a deep sigh as he braced himself for your rejection. “And the bad news?”
You stared at him. For a moment, you couldn't believe he was serious. The way his shoulders had gone rigid. The way he'd already begun preparing himself for disappointment before you'd even answered him.
As if there was any world where you wouldn't want him back.
As if you hadn't spent months hopelessly, painfully in love with him.
Din thought he was about to lose you. Your teasing smile faded.
“The bad news is that you apparently only confess your feelings when you're running a fever. You couldn't have done this six months ago?"
He sat there silently, clearly not following.
You shook your head, letting out a breathless laugh. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to figure it out?"
You watched the exact moment your words registered. He shifted ever so slightly. You folded your arms across your chest.
"I was beginning to think I'd imagined all of it,” you said.
"All of what?" he asked.
"The staring."
"I don't stare."
"The hovering,” you continued. “And don’t forget the finding excuses to sit next to me."
"I—"
"The fact that every time someone flirts with me, you suddenly become the most unpleasant man anyone's ever met. I spent months trying to convince myself you weren't interested."
"Months?" His voice was full of genuine shock.
"Yes, months."
The word seemed to genuinely disturb him, as if the idea that you'd been wondering all this time was somehow unacceptable. You should have been his all this time.
"You knew?" he asked hesitantly.
You stared at him. "Knew what?”
“That I…you know.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Din.”
“Yes?”
"You wear a helmet."
"Oh."
"You barely talk."
"Oh."
"And your version of flirting is handing me things without making eye contact."
"Oh."
You pointed at him again. "Exactly."
He visibly relaxed. You took this opportunity to take a seat beside him. No distance this time.
“So you didn’t know?” he asked, turning to face you as you sat down.
You blinked.
“Do you have any idea how good I've gotten at reading you? You have one visible facial expression and it’s just…helmet. Of course I knew.”
“You did?” His head tilted.
"Din Djarin, you once spent three days fixing a door that wasn't broken because you didn't know how to ask me to stay in the cockpit with you."
The silence that followed was incriminating.
You sighed as you leaned against him, laying your head against his beskar-clad shoulder. He didn’t stop you.
"I was fixing the door," he told you.
"You were absolutely not fixing the door."
"I was.”
"It worked perfectly."
"It was making a noise."
"It wasn't."
"It was."
You looked up at him lovingly, and he looked down at you through his visor.
For a moment, all was still. All was quiet.
"...I guess this means I don't have to wait until I'm sick again,” he said, a faint hint of confidence returning to his voice. “Close your eyes.”
Your heart immediately began hammering. You searched his visor, as if somehow you'd be able to see the expression hidden beneath it.
Whatever you were looking for, you found enough of it.
Slowly, you closed your eyes.
Then there was the faint sound of movement as you felt him shift beside you, and a soft hiss of beskar.
Your breath caught.
And then...you felt it.
His lips pressed against yours.
Everything in the galaxy seemed to stop. He was yours. Warm and real and finally, finally yours.
The kiss lasted only a moment. It was just long enough to leave your head spinning, and you wrapped your arms around him to treasure the feeling.
When he pulled away, you were still sitting there with your eyes closed.
But when you opened them again, Din was already lowering his helmet back into place. However, this time, neither of you needed to say anything.
Summary: Life on the razor crest has started to feel a little too much like home. When jealousy forces hidden feelings into the open, you and Din can no longer pretend there's nothing between you.
Warnings: None, just fluff!
Word Count: 1.6k
Notes: I was nervous to post this! This is my first time posting/writing about Din Djarin, and I just started to watch the show so bear with me, I hope this isn't too off character for him. I saw the new movie though, and jeez, best decision ever because it introduced me to him.
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There was nothing Din Djarin wouldn’t do for you, even if he never said it aloud. He’d never known a feeling like this before. Maker, what he would do to read your mind, to know if you thought about him as much as he thought about you.
You’d been travelling with him on the Razor Crest for a while now, and the two of you had a good routine going. You would take care of Grogu while Din was away from the ship or busy working on it. Regardless of what it was, you became a caretaker of sorts.
Din often found himself staring at you more than he’d like to admit, his gaze lingering longer on you every time. It was awfully domestic, but Din couldn’t help the way he felt when he watched you hold the child against your hip while you did even the most mundane daily tasks. Your new-found life was not too bad if you were being honest. In exchange for taking care of the cutest little green creature, you got a new home and constant protection from a Mandalorian.
You tried to push the growing feelings inside of you down, but you couldn’t deny that over time in a confined, small space with just you and Din, you started to find yourself getting attached. It felt familiar to you, like this was where your home was. This is where you were meant to be.
Although nothing was ever explicitly said, between stolen glances at each other and hands brushing against the other’s for a moment too long, you’d both come to recognize the truth neither of you seemed willing to voice.
Tonight, you and Din were at the cantina after a particularly gruelling bounty he’d completed just a day before. The place was so loud that the glasses rattled on the tables, but Din didn’t miss a word that you were saying to a pilot who had approached you, drink in hand.
“Your boyfriend always this quiet?” the pilot asked with a laugh, glancing toward the Mandalorian seated across from you. “Or did I interrupt something?”
You nearly choked on your drink. “He isn’t my boyfriend,” you replied, shifting awkwardly in your seat.
“No?” The pilot raised a brow, an easy smile tugging at his lips. “Then maybe my timing’s better than I thought.”
Across the table, Din’s hand stilled around his glass.
You didn’t see it beneath the helmet, but the pilot’s words had caught his attention far more effectively than the music thundering through the cantina ever could.
In your ideal world, Din would have said something. Anything. A small part of you hoped he would, but he simply sat there silently, helmet tilted slightly in your direction, knocking you back into reality.
For a brief second, you foolishly wondered if all those moments between you and him in the ship meant nothing.
Quickly, you turned your attention back to the pilot. “Maybe,” you said with a breathy laugh.
Before the pilot had a chance to start talking again, Din stood abruptly.
“I should check on the kid.”
You blinked and stared up at him in surprise.
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
And with that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving you stranded with the annoyingly charming pilot by your side. The pilot was cute, but that didn’t stop the feeling of your heart sinking in silence.
The pilot leaned a little closer, undeterred. “So,” he said lightly, “you gonna let me buy you that drink, or am I competing with the mysterious armored guy all night?”
The pilot was still talking, but his words were starting to blur at the edges. You nodded when it felt appropriate, smiled when it seemed right, but your attention kept drifting back to the space Din had left behind. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but by the time you headed back to the Razor Crest, you couldn’t ignore the way that your chest felt strangely heavy on the walk back.
When you stepped back into the ship, it immediately felt stuffy. Before you had another chance to overthink, you heard babbling at your feet and saw two little green hands reaching up for you. Happily, you took Grogu into your arms, momentarily distracting yourself from how you felt.
You smiled warmly at the child who cooed and snuggled against you as you got him ready for bed. Grogu looked at you with those big, round eyes as if he could tell your mind was elsewhere.
You sighed. “It’s nothing.”
He stared at you quietly, not convinced. His ears tilted slightly and he made a small noise, like he was trying to understand you. Your heart melted at the sight.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you murmured, brushing your thumb gently over his ear. “I’m fine, really.”
That’s when you felt a shift in the atmosphere. The space behind you felt infinitely less empty than it did a minute ago, and you didn’t need to turn around to know Din was there.
He was the first to break the silence. “You’re back,” Din said, voice low and gravelly.
You turned around, facing him but avoiding his gaze through his visor. “You left me at the cantina,” you replied as you attempted to hide the tremble in your voice.
“I stepped out,” Din corrected.
The tension only grew.
“Right,” you said. Grogu made a soft sound, as if he was unsettled by the newfound awkwardness between you and Din. “It’s fine,” you added. “You don’t need to explain it.”
There was another moment of silence, then he spoke again.
“I wasn’t leaving you."
Silence stretched once more, and you could feel your breath getting caught in your throat. Without saying a word, you pushed past him to let the child sleep.
Din turned his head slightly as you passed, and you could feel his gaze on you through his helmet. You kept walking, trying to stop yourself from saying what was on the tip of your tongue. You could hear him follow behind you, and without thinking, you turned to face him.
Impulsively, you spoke up. “It felt like you were leaving me. I don't understand what I did to upset you.”
The silence between you was unsettling as you darted your focus to the wall, the floor, to anything but his visor. You mentally cursed yourself for even saying that, worried that you sounded desperate.
“No,” he finally said. “That’s…not what I was doing.”
He sighed, shoulders falling slightly as he leaned against the metal walls of the ship.
“I’m not–“ you sighed again in frustration, angry at yourself for letting it get to this point. You made a dismissive gesture with your hand before you started to ramble, “I’m not trying to make this a thing.”
Din shifted slightly, like he might answer, but you didn’t notice because you were already talking again.
“It’s not like you act like nothing's here,” you added quickly. “Because you don’t. You say my name in that way, and you stand too close, and you don’t always stop looking at me when you should, and I don’t know what that is but it’s not nothing–“ You stopped mid-breath, realizing what you had just said.
“I don’t know why I said that…” You admitted quietly.
This time, when Din moved, he moved closer to you. Your hands flexed at your sides awkwardly as the weight of what you had just said laid heavy upon you. Taking you by surprise, he gently pulled you in close. It was quiet enough for you to hear your own heart beating rapidly in your chest.
“The pilot,” he finally said after what felt like forever. Your eyes met his visor, and you looked up at him with confusion. “…That’s why I left.”
“Oh,” you replied. “The pilot?”
“I thought…” He stopped, as if he hated what he was about to admit. “I thought maybe you wanted that.”
Your eyes widened in shock. “Him?”
“Someone who could give you more than this.” You could hear vulnerability in his voice now. “Someone who doesn’t disappear for days. Someone who can give you more than a room on a gunship.”
You shook your head immediately. “I don’t want that,” you said as your voice cracked. You laughed softly through the tears threatening to spill. “Maker, I don’t want some pilot. I don’t want someone else, I...want you.”
The words hung between you and for the first time that night, Din had nothing to say. He stared at you for a moment through his helmet and his hands remained steady in yours, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.
And then, to your complete confusion, he did let go.
You blinked. “Din?”
He took two steps back, then another.
“Din?” you repeated, unable to hide the growing anxiety in your voice.
“Wait,” he replied. “Just trust me.”
Before you could ask what he was doing, the lights inside the Crest suddenly flickered off. You stared out into the darkness.
The familiar hiss of his helmet coming off filled the ship. You knew that sound, and before you could speak up again, his hands found your face in the darkness. Your breath hitched as his thumbs brushed your cheeks.
“Cyar’ika…” he said softly, his voice no longer distorted by the modulator. He stepped forward, closing the space between you, his voice low and smooth. "You have me."
Then without another word, he kissed you. It was so tender, so gentle, as if through everything, he still couldn’t quite believe you were real beneath his hands. For once, Din didn’t wish to read your mind.
The answer he was looking for was written on your lips.