Summary: You were only supposed to help Din Djarin with one bounty. But after the mission, you stuck around â teasing, flirting, testing the waters. He never reacted the way you hoped, always hiding behind practical words and stoic silence.
Or five times you thought Din was dense and one time you realized you were wrong.
Tags: Fluff, 5+1 things, miscommunication, SFW, Din Djarin is oblivious, he's trying his best, one sided, or is it???, idiots in love, protective Din Djarin, Din Djarin being soft (in his own way). No descriptions of reader. No mentions of Y/N.
A/N: I know it's a lot shorter than my other Din fanfic, but I hope you'll enjoy this one as well. If you have any requests, suggestions, or thoughts, feel free to send me a message. Reblogs are appreciated. Please do not steal or cross-post it on another platform without asking. Thank you.
Word Count: 2.7k
masterlist
1.
You stretched your arms above your head, letting out a sharp sigh as the bountyâs unconscious body thudded to the floor of the Razor Crestâs cargo hold.
âThatâs one way to say job well done,â you muttered, brushing space dust from your jacket sleeve before slinking into the co-pilotâs chair.
Behind you, Din Djarin closed the ramp and began checking the carbonite chamber, ensuring the target was fully frozen and secure. He hadnât spoken much since you reached the ship â not that he was ever particularly chatty â but you chalked that up to the Mando brand of "taciturn charm."
âWell, that was fun,â you said brightly, spinning halfway in the chair to face him. âYou always do jobs this entertaining, or was this just to impress me?â
His helmet tilted slightly toward you. âIt wasnât supposed to be fun.â
âNo? Shame. You looked pretty good out there.â You gave him a teasing grin and leaned back, resting your boots on the edge of the control panel.
He turned fully toward you now, helmet glinting in the light of hyperspace pre-jump. âYou almost got shot.â
âYeah, but you didnât let that happen.â You pointed a finger at him, lazily. âKnight in shiny beskar and all that.â
ââŚI hired you for your recon work. Thatâs all.â
You shrugged. âSure, Mando. Iâm just saying, you throw a girl against a wall to shield her from a blaster bolt, she might start thinking you care.â
He walked past you to the cockpit, flicking switches like nothing had happened. âWe leave in ten.â
You laughed under your breath and leaned back further, hands behind your head. âYouâre cute when you pretend I donât fluster you.â
No response. Just the cold silence of a man fully immersed in his pre-flight check.
Not even a head tilt this time.
You pursed your lips, then smirked.
Alright. That one might have been too subtleâŚfor him.
But you werenât going anywhere just yet.
2.
You leaned against a stack of fuel canisters, watching Din as he crouched next to the hull of the Razor Crest, speaking low and serious with Peli Motto. Something about coolant lines or hyperdrive relaysâyou werenât listening. Mostly because heâd taken off his gloves again, and there was something about watching his fingers flex against a piece of machinery that scrambled your thoughts like eggs on a Tatooine skillet.
Grogu was toddling near your feet, cooing up at you. You bent down and gave his ear a little scratch. âHeâs lucky heâs got you, kid,â you said. âShame youâre the only one in this partnership with any emotional intelligence.â
Grogu blinked at you slowly, then burbled in agreement. Or maybe hunger.
âMando!â you called out, hopping off the crates and sauntering toward the ship. âSince weâre stuck in Mos Eisley for a bit⌠how about I buy you a drink?â
He didnât even look up from where he was tightening something under the shipâs belly.
âNo.â
You arched an eyebrow. âYou sure? Could be a bonding moment.â
âNo.â
You sighed, pushing your tongue against your cheek to hide the smile. âAre you afraid Iâll drink you under the table? Or that youâll have fun?â
âI donât drink on the job.â
âWeâre not on a job,â you replied smoothly. âWeâre in between. Thereâs a difference.â
He finally looked up at you, visor catching the Tatooine twin suns. âWe donât need to bond.â
You opened your mouth, but then shut it.
Instead, you gave a mock salute and walked off muttering, âAlright, Casanova, loud and clear.â
Later, you were helping Peli hook up a new motivator coil when she snorted and said, âYouâre wasting your time, sweetheart.â
You turned your head. âExcuse me?â
âWith him,â she nodded toward Din, who was now sitting on the ramp with Grogu in his lap, feeding him a little packet of something green and mushy. âYouâve been laying it on thicker than Bantha butter, and heâs just⌠nothing.â
You groaned, flopping back onto the sand beside her. âIs he dense, or just emotionally stunted?â
âBoth,â Peli replied cheerfully. âDonât take it personally. Iâve seen rancors with better romantic instincts.â
You covered your face with your hands. âHopeless.â
âYep.â
You peeked through your fingers, catching sight of Grogu now waddling toward you with food smeared across his mouth.
âWell,â you murmured, sitting up and letting him crawl into your lap, âat least one of them likes me.â
Peli patted your shoulder, greasy handprint and all. âThatâs a start.â
3.
The alley was narrow, the kind of cramped, shadowed crevice that smelled like rust and desperation. You ducked in first, tugging Dinâs arm behind you just as blaster fire cracked against the duracrete wall.
âI told you that guy looked too twitchy to be a clean drop,â you hissed.
âYou waited until we were already inside to tell me that,â Din replied, voice flat but calm as ever. You could practically hear the slight raise of his brow under the helmet.
âCall it a hunch,â you muttered.
Another volley of shots whizzed past, and Din shoved you further into the shadows. He followed in right after, pinning you both against the wall as the enemy patrol ran past. There was barely a breath between you. His arm was braced next to your head, his chest pressed fully against yours, armor cold even through your clothes.
You tilted your head up slowly, voice low. âYou know, if you wanted me pressed up against you, Mando, you couldâve just asked.â
His helmet was angled so close you could see your own smirk reflected in the beskar.
âStay quiet,â he said.
âThatâs all youâre gonna say? Really?â You leaned in just a little, voice all honey and trouble. âNo comment on the close quarters? The dim lighting? The way your knee is pressed against myâ?â
âI said quiet.â
You let out a long, exaggerated sigh, head thudding back against the wall. âIâm just saying, most people would at least acknowledge the tension here.â
Din shifted his weight slightly, and you thought maybeâmaybeâthat youâd finally gotten through.
Instead, he pulled back just enough to glance outside the alley. âTheyâre gone. Letâs move.â
And then, just like that, the warmth of his body was gone, his cape brushing your arm as he slipped back into the light.
You stood there for a second longer, staring after him.
âUnbelievable,â you muttered, jogging to catch up. âI was practically breathing pick-up lines in your face, and you gave me nothing. Not even a grunt.â
4.
It had been a long day. The kind that sank into your bones and made even the air feel heavy.
The bounty had fought harder than expected, and Din had taken the brunt of it â bruised ribs, a split lip under the helmet, and a noticeable limp that he stubbornly refused to acknowledge.
Now, inside the dim hull of the Razor Crest, the silence between the two of you felt comfortable. Grogu was already asleep in his hammock, snoring softly like some tiny, ancient gremlin.
Din was sitting on the edge of the cot, working one-handed to undo a section of his chest plate. You noticed the stiffness in his shoulders, the way he winced every time he shifted his weight.
âHere,â you said gently, crossing the space to kneel in front of him. âLet me help.â
He started to protest, of course. âIâve got it.â
You gave him a look, one you knew he could feel even if he couldnât see your face. âI didnât ask if you could. I said let me.â
He hesitated⌠and then let his hands drop.
Your fingers moved carefully, familiar now with the clasps and locks of his beskar. You worked slowly, undoing the armor piece by piece â chest plate, gauntlets, pauldrons â setting each one down beside you with reverence, like they mattered. Like he mattered.
His undershirt was dark with sweat and streaked with grime. You resisted the urge to reach for a cloth and clean him up. Instead, your hands hovered near the edge of his vambrace.
âYou always take care of everyone else,â you said softly. âLet someone take care of you, just this once.â
He was quiet for a long moment. Then: âYou donât have to.â
âI know.â You smiled faintly, not looking up. âDoesnât mean I donât want to.â
You unlatched the vambrace slowly. His forearm tensed beneath your fingers, the bare skin warm.
He didnât say anything to that. But he didnât stop you, either.
When you finally looked up, you found his visor fixed squarely on you. The silence stretched between you like a held breath.
If he felt anythingâwarmth, tension, the way your fingers lingered against the edge of his wristâhe didnât say.
Just a small nod.
And then: âThank you.â
You nodded back, lips curled in the barest smile. âAnytime.â
You stood and walked past Groguâs hammock, brushing a hand over his ears as you went.
From behind you, you could feel the weight of Dinâs stare following you the whole way.
5.
The Razor Crest creaked under the weight of frost, a low groan echoing through the hull as wind battered the exterior.
You were both grounded â a storm too thick to fly through and a bounty who was likely just as frozen as the damn planet. The heating system, true to its usual charm, had sputtered out three hours ago.
You were curled into yourself on the floor of the ship, back against the wall, arms wrapped tightly around your knees. Your jacket was decent, but nothing short of a portable sun was going to fight the kind of chill creeping into your bones.
Grogu was warm in his little insulated pod, snuggled deep in his blanket nest, occasionally letting out a snore.
Across the room, Din sat on a crate, sharpening one of his vibroblades like it was just any other night. No sign of discomfort. No sign he was feeling the same way your teeth were chattering.
You didnât say anything. You werenât sure if it was pride or exhaustion, but the silence stretched.
Until finally, without looking up, he spoke.
âYouâre cold.â
âNo kidding,â you muttered, breath puffing visibly in front of your face. âWhat gave it away? The blue lips or the full-body shiver?â
He didnât rise to the sarcasm. Instead, he reached into the compartment behind him and pulled out a heavy, worn blanket.
âCome here,â he said, scooting to the edge of the crate and patting the space beside him.
You blinked at him. âYouâre inviting me to share body heat?â
âPurely practical.â
You snorted as you stood, dragging yourself over. âRight. Not because you enjoy my company or anything ridiculous like that.â
He didnât answer, just opened the blanket as you sat down beside him.
It was warmer than you expected. His armor had retained some heat, and beneath it, his body was a furnace. The blanket went around both of you, his arm loosely draped behind your shoulders to keep it up.
The silence settled again.
Then, a little softer: âBetter?â
You tilted your head toward him. âIf I said no, would you let me shove my hands under your shirt?â
He didnât so much as flinch. âNo.â
You laughed, but it was quiet. Tired. The kind of laugh that cracked into something tender. You leaned your head against his shoulder, your voice dropping low.
â...Thanks, Din.â
He didnât say anything. But you felt it â the shift. A subtle lean into you. The way his fingers adjusted the blanket more tightly around you both.
And then Grogu stirred in his pod, peeking out, blinking at the sight of you nestled together. He blinked once. Twice. And let out a soft, amused coo.
You met his gaze with a smirk.
+1
You stopped calling him Din.
Not on purpose. It just⌠slipped away.
It had started subtly: the teasing softened, the smiles dimmed. You kept your hands to yourself more, kept your jokes to Grogu instead. You still worked with Din, still followed him into the fire and out again, but the space between you felt wider than it ever had.
And maybe it was for the best.
Maybe you'd crossed a line, misread something. Maybe your flirting had made him uncomfortable, and he was too kindâor too stoicâto say it outright.
You hadnât realized how much it hurt to pull away until you were halfway across a frozen plain, following behind him in silence, and he didnât say a word about the wind biting at your skin.
He always offered the blanket before. Always stood just a little closer.
Now?
Nothing.
You tried to tell yourself it was fine. You were fine. You werenât here to fall in love with a man who never showed his face. You were here because you wanted to be.
You didnât expect him to care.
Then one night, as the ship drifted through hyperspace and Grogu was snoring softly in his hammock, Din stood in the middle of the hull, hands loose at his sides. Watching you.
âWhy are you avoiding me?â he asked.
You blinked from where you sat on your bunk, caught mid-polishing your blaster. âIâm not.â
âYou are.â
You looked down. âI just figured maybe I was⌠pushing too much. Saying things I shouldnât have. Being⌠flirty.â The word stung coming out of your mouth. âDidnât want to make you uncomfortable.â
There was a long pause. You expected silence. Maybe a brush-off. But instead:
âYou werenât.â
You glanced up. He stepped closer, the quiet clink of his armor unusually loud in the quiet. âI thought you knew.â
âKnew what?â
He hesitated, then said carefully, âI was flirting back.â
You blinked. âYou what?â
He tilted his head. âYou remember the first job? When we caught that bounty together, and I told you to leave right after?â
You nodded slowly.
âI made sure you got a full share. Paid for your passage off-world. Protected you during the shootout. I donât do that for strangers.â
You swallowed. âThatâs notââ
âAnd on Tatooine,â he cut in, voice quiet but firm. âYou asked me to bond over a drink. I told you we didnât need to bond.â
You furrowed your brow. âExactly. You turned me down.â
âNo,â he said. âI said, âWe donât need to bond.â What I meant wasâwe already do. I didnât think I needed more than what we had.â
Your mouth opened, then closed.
âIn the alley,â he continued, stepping even closer, âwhen I had you pinned against the wall⌠You think I didnât want that? That I wasnât aware of how close we were?â
You felt your pulse jump.
âI wanted it,â he said simply. âI just couldnât say it then. Couldnât risk you thinking it was anything less than mutual.â
You sat up straighter, the air tight in your lungs.
He took another step, now close enough that you could feel the shift of his weight. âWhen you helped me take off my armor⌠I donât let anyone do that. No one touches it. No one touches me.â
âDinââ
âAnd the blanket? On the ice planet?â His voice gentled. âThat wasnât practical. That was me finding the only excuse I had to hold you. To make sure you were okay.â
Your heart thundered in your chest.
âI thought I was being clear,â he said, finally. âBut I guess Iâm not great at⌠this.â
You blinked rapidly, trying to catch up. âYou⌠youâve been flirting this whole time?â
âAs much as I know how to.â
There was a beat of silence.
And then, softlyâwarmlyâhe added, âSo. You gonna keep pulling away? Or are we finally gonna admit weâve been on the same page since the beginning?â
You stood, moving toward him until you were close enough to touch his chestplate.
âYou couldâve said something.â
âI just did.â
You smiled, helpless and stunned. âGuess weâre both kind of hopeless.â
His hand brushed your arm, hesitant but deliberate. âMaybe. But not anymore.â
And just like that, all the quiet tension between youâweeks of half-meant jokes and unspoken affectionâfinally settled into something real. Something shared.
And just like that, all the quiet tension between youâweeks of half-meant jokes and unspoken affectionâfinally settled into something real. Something shared.
my favorite genre of fictional character is like "i am terrifying to almost everyone, i'm very good at killing, i can endure anything, i've become exceptionally good at playing into my reputation, and if you try to give me positive social interaction i will react with confusion and cower in a corner like an abused animal. and i may try to shoot you. but there is also a chance i may imprint on you like a feral dog receiving its first loving touch! good luck."
I feel like this is what Lamar Giles meant when he wrote that âPirating was her life, and she didn't know if that would change. Should it ever, though..." line.