thermal imaging—din djarin
summary: you have a crush on din and he’s concerned. lol aka, self indulgent requited unrequited love. comfort character!din strikes again. implied mutual pining. GN!you
warnings: a teeny bit of angst and miscommunication but it works out ☺️
🍓…<3…🍓
living on the razor crest was a living hell.
correction: living in such close quarters with din djarin when you have feelings for the man was hell.
hell was hot, you were hot, your cheeks blushing constantly at any attention he bestowed on you.
to din, you were a friend. reliable and safe to let around the child. to you, din was…din was—
“hey.” a rough voice brought you out of your daydreams and back into the cockpit.
din was seated in the pilot seat, looking at you with his helmet tilted to the side in curiosity.
“you ok?” he asked.
a slow heat entered your cheeks.
oh for maker’s sake.
it was pathetic, the effect he had on you. you hated it (you didn’t).
“fine.” you offered what you hoped was a convincing smile, though it curved itself just on the edge of mania. hey, at least your voice didn’t crack.
din stared at you for a long moment, consideringly.
“do you feel ill? you’re pretty hot.”
your eyes widened and din seemed to backtrack.
“i have, uh. thermal imaging.” a gloved hand gestures to his helmet.
“oh.” you said faintly, “i’m not ill, just a little warm is all.”
“it’s two degrees in here—“
“well, maybe i just run hot.” you interrupted quickly.
the cockpit fell into an uncomfortable silence.
din looked away, at the vast space you were travelling through.
you took a steadying breath and relaxed into your chair, assuming he had finished the conversation. it was a close call, you had to admit. your heartbeat made an attempt to settle down.
“are you happy here?” his voice was quieter than you’d ever heard. vulnerable.
you swallowed and shifted in the co pilot’s chair.
“in the cockpit or—“
“on the ship, with m—with us.”
he didn’t make any move to turn back to you, flicking a few buttons and switches.
“why would you think i was unhappy?” you questioned, brows furrowing.
he said nothing, continuing piloting the ship.
click
flick
tap
“din,” you said softly.
every time you say his name is like the first.
it was the greatest honour you’d ever been given, not that you’d ever tell him that.
at the sound of his name, he turned back to you.
“whenever i enter a room you—“ he stopped to think, “close up. like a scared animal. you act…different. you aren’t like that with the kid. i know i can be intimidating—“
“din, honey, no.” you cut him off, the endearment slipping out before you could stop it.
you reached over to place a hand over his on the console.
din tensed in his armour.
“i’m not afraid of you.” you said earnestly.
he said nothing.
“din,” you repeated, squeezing his gloved hand, “i am not afraid of you.”
“then why—“
“look at me.” you pleaded.
he did so slowly, as if he was afraid of your expression.
your cheeks heated again at his closeness.
you swallowed heavily, feeling the words crawling up your throat.
but this time was different, you didn’t try to stop yourself. didn’t try to swallow them back down.
“din, i’m in love with you.” you breathed, somehow shocking yourself as well as din.
he reared back, taking his hand from under yours.
the cold sting of rejection stabbed at your heart as you leaned back in your seat.
eyes burning, your mind flashed through the course of your friendship, with din and with the little baby sleeping soundly below you.
you had ruined it all so quickly.
“cyar’ika.” din spoke, voice raw with wonder.
your head turned at the unfamiliar word only to find a gloved hand hanging in midair, halfway to your face.
your wide eyes flickered from his hand to his helmet, then you hesitantly nudged your cheek against his hand.
din breathed out a long breath, tension leaving his body at the contact.
he turned his wrist so his hand cupped your cheek, then rubbed his thumb along your cheekbone, treating you as if you were made of porcelain.
your eyes fluttered shut, content with his gentle attention.
the cockpit was silent again as you both existed together.
the only warning you got was a rustle of fabric as din moved to press his cool helmet to your forehead.
“cyare.” din revered, “ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.”
🍓…<3…🍓
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