#grogu headers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thefrogdalorian · 2 months

Text

A Crisis of Faith

Word Count: 6052 Rating: Teen Summary: Although travelling through the galaxy with a Mandalorian bounty hunter was a daunting prospect at first, you were pleasantly surprised by how swiftly the two of you bonded. However, despite your initial closeness, the man who you were thought enjoyed your presence in his life now seems disgusted by his every encounter with you. When you finally land on Nevarro after weeks of being confined to the Razor Crest together, you hope that perhaps, something might fix your fractured relationship... Content Warnings: Din is mean and gets drunk. Slightly rough with header, shoves them away/leans over them and raises a finger to stop you from speaking but it's clear you're not physically injured by his actions and are somewhat excited by it. Kissing. Physical appearance/gender of reader is not specified but Din calls them mesh'la (beautiful in Mando'a). Author's Note: This was inspired by the line "You're a crisis of my faith," in Would've, Could've, Should've by Taylor Swift. The song is quite different in tone to this fic but I just imagined what it would be like if Din was ever pushed to a breaking point of his faith before meeting Grogu. This was the result and I regret nothing. Thanks to @decembermidnight for some words of encouragement while I was writing this one, I appreciate it!

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

The metallic clangs of footsteps hitting the rungs of the ladder as your travelling companion descended from the cockpit caused you to look up momentarily from the holodrama you had been quietly watching. As he approached the bottom of the ladder, you fixed your eyes back on the holopad that was propped up against your knees. You sighed deeply. There was a time when Din Djarin’s presence had not made you feel thoroughly miserable and tense. But those moments were long gone.

You didn’t move your eyes to meet his steely gaze as his footsteps approached you in the semi-darkness of the hull. Instead, you focused so intently on the bright screen propped against your knees, which was currently playing a cheesy holodrama, that your eyes began to burn under the strain.

Before you had begun travelling with Din, you had scoffed at people who occupied themselves with such corny forms of entertainment, finding them melodramatic and hollow. Since spending weeks hurtling through hyperspace with no human contact aside from your bounty hunter boss, you had reneged on your aversion to holodramas. You discovered that they provided welcome relief both from the monotony of hyperspace and your constant rumination over precisely what it was you had done to drive such a wedge between you and the man whose footsteps were now getting uncomfortably close to your favoured position to relax in.

You felt yourself tensing up as he approached. You had retreated to your favourite little nook on the Razor Crest after showering, hoping that he would leave you alone. It was your little sanctuary, your haven away from the tenseness that lingered in the air between the pair of you. Over the past few weeks, you were pleased that you had created somewhere like this to withdraw to. Although Din was fairly neat and organised by nature anyway, you had still helped to tidy the Razor Crest when you first came aboard, organising various objects which cluttered the hull into several large crates. When pushed together and covered in a blanket and pillow, you discovered that you had created a secluded little alcove where you could relax in your own space. So, after you had taken a shower, you perched yourself on your favourite crate and launched yourself into the cheesy drama that was currently playing out on the screen in front of you. It was a welcome distraction from the turmoil in your own life.

Turmoil that was impossible to ignore any longer, as the looming presence of Din Djarin towered over you, cutting over what little light was reaching you. He did not even have the courtesy to speak one as he stood there wordlessly, hovering over the crates you were sprawled across. You huffed in frustration. Recently, the onus was always on you to begin a conversation. His abrupt change in behaviour towards you made it difficult to believe that he had once been so talkative and forthcoming in his interactions with you. It devastated you all over again to think of the contrast between those happy memories and the tension of the present. The times when Din and you would sit together, chatting for hours about anything and everything as you flew through the stars together were long gone.

“Can I help you with something?” you finally asked, your voice belying your frustration.

“Came down to use the fresher. Didn't know you were awake,” Din mumbled.

You swallowed thickly, feeling your eyes sting with tears at his words. He was so brazen in admitting to you how keen he was to avoid you, that you wondered what in the galaxy you had ever done to him, to have him treat you this way.

“Oh,” you breathed, struggling to maintain your composure in the face of such harsh words. But you were utterly determined not to show any signs of weakness. After all, wasn’t that what he wanted? To hurt you?

It was difficult to believe this was the same man you had met all those months ago. When you had first started travelling with The Mandalorian, Mando as you knew him then, you had – to your surprise – quickly bonded with the mysterious man who had hired you for your services. Mando had wanted to hire you due to your expertise in navigation and ship maintenance. While he was the muscle, bringing in numerous high-value targets, you were his assistant, taking care of everything not related to the bounties he brought back. You were discreet, never asking questions about the nature of his work. You just knew that he needed to bring as many back as possible, to pay off the loan he had taken to afford this magnificent ship: the Razor Crest.

Aside from his line of work, though, in the early days, Mando was surprisingly happy to talk to you about anything. You sensed that before you came aboard he had been somewhat lonely as he led a solitary existence, barely speaking to others and hiding behind his armour. He still hid behind his armour to some degree, of course as he had never removed his helmet in your presence. It was a matter you were never to discuss, aside from him explaining that he would never remove it in front of you. Although you were curious about what he looked like, you respected his reasons for keeping his helmet firmly fixed to his head. Whatever they may be.

Even though you had never seen his face, the two of you had quickly become close in the isolation of hyperspace. Perhaps, even friends. You listened intently as he told you details about his life; the loss of his parents and his subsequent adoption by Mandalorians. Mando even entrusted you with his real name: Din Djarin. To demonstrate that level of trust in you meant a great deal and you delighted each time the syllables rolled off your tongue. The name Din Djarin gave you a thrill each time you said it, sending a shiver along your spine. It was a strong name, one that fit him perfectly.

You did not yet know it, but the night Din had given you his name was also the night everything changed. It was the last night you shared the closeness with him that you had come to appreciate during the months you had travelled together. It spelt the beginning of the end. Ever since then, Din had inexplicably taken a step back from you. He pulled away, retreating into the quiet, solitary figure that you had first met. It had been weeks since he had had a conversation with you that lasted more than a few words.

Din had seemed increasingly distant and withdrawn and it was abundantly clear that you were the cause of his sudden change of heart. He had not even tried to hide the fact that he was keeping away from you on purpose. It felt as though he was disgusted by your presence. You did not have the faintest inclination of what you had done to make him feel this way. You exhausted yourself by racking your brain for answers that never seemed to come. You were consumed by grief. You missed him. His company had been one of the few things keeping you sane.

Despite his intimidating presence, you had discovered that there was a certain warmth to him that he displayed when it came to interacting with you. The times he had made you laugh so hard that your ribs hurt, the way he had taught you words of Mando’a and how to polish his armour. There was even one occasion where he had taught you to wield a blaster, in case of emergencies. You could never forget how Din’s strong arms snaked their way around your waist, how safe and protected you had felt in his embrace. You remembered in aching detail the touch of the soft, smooth leather of his gloves as he held your hands with such aching tenderness, in an attempt to steady your grip on the weapon. Although, if anything, it only made your hands shake more.

That warmth and gentleness were gone now, replaced with the cold, hard version of him that was standing before you. This Mandalorian was unrecognisable to you. There was no way he could be the same as your sweet Din. Your Din who never hated to be alone with you. Who treasured your presence, rather than treating it as offensive. Now, Din spent most of his days in the cockpit, hiding away from you. He only descended the ladder to use the fresher or prepare some ration packs when you were in your bunk, behind a pneumatic door. That was how most of the trip to Nevarro had been. Until now, as he hovered over you.

“Well, you should know we’ll be landing in Nevarro soon,” The sound of his deep, raspy voice tore you from your ruminations.

“Okay,” you nodded, eyes remaining firmly trained on the holodrama.

“While we’re on Nevarro, I have some matters to attend to. I’d prefer it if you stayed here on the ship, but I can’t force you to. You’re not my slave,” he shrugged.

Then, Din turned away from you and retreated to the ‘fresher, leaving you heartbroken in his wake. But you were determined not to sit there and pine after him. You would not allow yourself to dissolve into tears in a place where he could potentially see the impact he was having on you.

You promptly pushed yourself up off the crate and walked on trembling limbs towards your bunk. You hastily sealed yourself behind the pneumatic door of the only small space that was truly yours, sequestering yourself from the anguish that lay beyond the door. The bile rose in your throat as you remembered how he had spoken to you, as though you were of as much significance to him as a speck of dirt on his armour. The tears came, then. Flowing down your cheeks in earnest. You were stubborn, however. You didn’t want Din to know the power he held over you. You would not allow him to see how much his words and actions devastated every fibre of your being. The way he shattered your heart into pieces with each emotionless utterance.

So, you buried your head in your pillow, hoping it muffled the way you cried yourself to sleep. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he could upset you.

The worst part of the whole predicament was that you had realised you had fallen in love with him…

✯ ✯ ✯

The loud clunk of the Razor Crest as it finally made contact with terra firma for the first time in several weeks roused you from the fitful slumber you had eventually drifted off into. The noise which interrupted your sleep indicated that you had finally touched down on Nevarro. Your head was pounding. The tears that you had cried the previous evening after Din had been so cold towards you had torn through your body, leaving their mark on your fragile, shattered being. Despite how much your body was screaming at you to gulp down some water, you did not risk crossing paths with him. Honestly, you weren’t sure how much more of it you could take.

So you waited until the doors to the ship had opened and closed and the latest bounties unloaded, before you emerged from your bunk. After gratefully chugging several flagons of water and quenching your thirst, you headed to the ‘fresher and gazed at your reflection in the mirror. The person who stared back at you was almost unrecognisable. You looked utterly broken, a shadow of the person you had once been. All the spark had gone from your eyes, which were sunken and lifeless; your eyelids were swollen from the sobs that had wracked your body before you slept. Your cheeks were gaunt, your hair limp. You couldn’t believe that the same man who had once caused you to laugh so hard that your ribs hurt had rendered you so miserable. It tore you apart to know that you had allowed someone to wield so much power over you. The man you had bonded with and trusted, who you perhaps even loved, had reduced you to this.

You knew then, that despite Din’s wishes, you had to get out of this towering metallic prison for a few hours. Even though Din would be disappointed, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were not a natural rulebreaker, though, evidenced by the way your heart pounded as you left the safety of the ship to wander around town. Nevarro was a planet full of scum and villainy, a backwater scughole most people would not choose to visit. It was certainly not the place you would choose for some convalescence. With the beggars and shady characters that lined every street, it was not the optimum environment to repair your shattered nerves.

However, since you were travelling with an aloof Mandalorian, who appeared to be utterly ignorant of how much he was hurting you, you were left with no choice. If you wanted any air for the next few weeks, this was the best you were going to get. Din certainly wouldn’t stop somewhere more picturesque to grant you your wish. You grimaced as you stepped out. You had forgotten how stale and filthy the air of this planet was. Yet, it was better than spending another second in that stuffy metal tomb with reminders of the man who loathed you everywhere you turned. The man that you had been beginning to fall in love with before he woke up one day and decided he hated you.

Although you had hoped a day wandering around Nevarro would revitalise your spirits, you were left bitterly disappointed when nothing of the sort happened. The dismal surroundings only compounded your misery. You felt utterly trapped. If the only thing that lay beyond the confines of the Razor Crest were planets like these, perhaps a life with a man who hated you was preferable. At least you didn’t have to see such depressing sights every day of your life, although being trapped in hyperspace with the Mandalorian that hated you was still pretty bleak.

Despite ignoring Din’s request to remain on the ship, you did respect the rule he set to be back before sundown. So, when the sun began to descend in the sky and dip dangerously close to below the lava flats, you returned to the Razor Crest. You found your heart sinking as you ascended the ramp back to the ship. Back to unbearable tenseness and more heartache as you found yourself forced to survive in proximity to a man who despised you.

The Razor Crest was silent, still. Empty. Din was nowhere to be seen. You couldn’t decide if you were disappointed or relieved at that fact. You couldn’t bring yourself to care.

At least it meant you would be able to eat the food you had bought from a market stall in peace. The local delicacy was a welcome break from the bland, cardboard-like rations that you survived on while hurtling through hyperspace. It was a meal that your tastebuds certainly thanked you for.

After finishing your delicious meal, you clambered back onto the crate and resumed the holodrama you had been watching before Din had interrupted you the previous evening. You sprawled out on your favourite position in the ship, regaining your strength and finally feeling calm for the first time since you had woken up. The drama unfolding on your screen was a welcome distraction from worrying over the fact that Din had still not returned from his outing.

Despite how hurt you were by his actions, you could not help but fret for his safety. You were never sure how long Din would be gone during these visits, the times could range from a few hours to almost an entire day. But it was practically unheard of for him to be out so long after nightfall with no word as to his whereabouts. You tried to push those thoughts out of your head and lose yourself in the story on your screen. You settled in for the evening, engrossed in the story. Soon, your eyelids grew leaden…

✯ ✯ ✯

The thuds of the footsteps ascending the ramp startled you awake. You sat up swiftly, groaning slightly as you felt the stiffness of your neck thanks to the awkward position you had fallen asleep in atop the crate. The sounds were incredibly jarring to you, not just because they had woken you up from a peaceful sleep. By now, you were well used to every little noise produced on the Razor Crest, all of the little groans and clangs characteristic of the ship. This sound was different from any of them. You knew it had to be Din, as he was the only person other than you who knew how to unlock the ship. But the footsteps ascending the ramp were so irregular and uneven that it was difficult to believe it could be your Mandalorian companion. They were utterly alien to you, so unlike the careful, methodical way he usually cut a path through the galaxy.

You found yourself panicking momentarily, wondering if perhaps he was in trouble and someone else had forced him to open up the ship. Until a few seconds later when, sure enough, the familiar brown chest plate and shiny helmet of the Mandalorian you worked with stood there at the top of the ramp.

You swung your legs around to sit atop the crate and waited to see whether Din would approach you. Whether he had even noticed you. Without speaking or making a sound, he moved towards you. You were startled at the way Din lurched towards you, his boots slamming against the floor before he hit the wall with a sickening clang. The way he was staggering, barely able to stand straight, struck terror into your heart immediately. You leapt off the crate without thinking and rushed to his aid.

“Din, are you alright?” you asked, your voice full of concern as you approached where he was slumped against the wall.

“I’m fine,” was his reply. Curt. Direct. Classic Din Djarin.

You threw your arm around Din’s waist, feeling the coarseness of his cape underneath your hand. Despite his heft, you successfully managed to pick Din up off the wall. Din grunted as he threw his arm around you. You were about to ask whether he had been in a fight until your senses detected the smell which lingered on him. It clued you in to precisely where he had been. The characteristic stench of a cantina lingered in the air, emanating from his entire body. The smoke, sweat and booze of the dingy place was unmistakable.

Even though you were appalled at his drunken stupor and disgusted by his recent actions, you still cared about him. Without hesitation, you began helping Din towards his bunk. The first few steps were difficult, but soon enough you and Din settled into a rhythm. You wanted to make sure that he was alright since you feared that he had drunk too much and something terrible would happen to him in the night. You wished you could remove his helmet and ascertain his levels of drunkenness, whether he had any wounds which required bacta spray. You knew that was never going to happen. You may never have discussed his reasoning fully, but you knew Mustafar would freeze before Din would remove his helmet in your presence.

You were about halfway to the bunk when it happened. Despite the fact he could barely stand, Din abruptly shrugged off your help and shoved you away from him, as though burnt by your touch. Although he hadn’t hurt you, your throat tightened and your eyes watered. He hated you. You shakily exhaled from your nostrils. All your determination to never let him see how much he had upset you was gone. He had gone too far. You decided you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Din, please. Have I done something to upset you?” you pleaded as he continued stepping away from you, backing into the wall. Until it was physically impossible to put more distance between the two of you.

Din threw his head back against the wall, his helmet hitting it with a clunk. He sighed deeply, seemingly composing himself. After a few moments, he pushed himself off on unsteady legs and walked over to you, looming large over you. The backs of your knees were backed against the crate, there was nowhere to go, nowhere to run or hide from this Mandalorian towering over you.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Din grunted, voice tinged with something far darker than anything you had ever heard from him.

“Din, no, I…” you gasped, taken aback by his words.

You were practically falling over the crates now, feeling the hard surface biting into the backs of your knees as you tried to back away.

“You’re a crisis of my faith,” Din rasped.

“Wh-what do you mean?” you stammered, stunned by his words. How could you, of all people, make this stoic Mandalorian lose composure like this? “Din, I don’t understand,” you begged.

He raised a gloved finger to your lips, shushing you instantly. You noticed your eyes widened in shock in his helmet’s reflection, standing there helplessly as the musky, leathery smell of his gloves filled your senses.

“Kriff!” Din swore, his last reserves of composure dwindling. “So innocent, mesh’la.”

In happier times, Din had taught you some basic Mando’a. He was enthusiastic to educate you about parts of his culture and you were eager to learn. You loved the way his voice sounded when he spoke the ancient tongue of his people. However, you were unable to understand that particular word. Although you were able to observe how his voice had softened slightly when he said it. You attempted to part your lips to speak, but Din hushed you again by pressing into your lips slightly harder with his glove. He wasn't hurting you. In fact, you found the pressure and his demeanour somewhat thrilling. At least he was paying you some attention, for a change.

“Do you know what the consequences would be if I removed my helmet in front of you and pressed the kiss on your lips that I’ve been aching to place there for months?” Din growled, his voice low and rough.

You shook your head vigorously, eyebrows raised at his words. Although you had initially been startled at the way Din had backed you against a crate, you were grateful for the position you currently found yourself in. At least, trapped between his body and the crate, you at least had some surface to balance yourself against. Otherwise, you feared you may have collapsed onto the cold, metallic floor of the Razor Crest at his confession.

“If another living being caught a glimpse of my face, then according to my Creed, I would be shunned as an apostate,” Din explained.

You sighed deeply, pulse thundering in your ears as you struggled to process the implications of his words. Your heart leapt as it sunk in that Din reciprocated your feelings. You realised that his erratic behaviour had possibly been driven by his desire for you. He wasn’t running or hiding from you anymore. Perhaps whatever beverage Din had imbibed from underneath one of the long straws you knew he used when in public had given him the push necessary to reveal his feelings to you. You silently thanked Maker as finally, Din was making it clear that he wanted you.

Yet in an instant, the hope and joy you felt were snatched away from you. Your heart settled back in your chest, weighed down by the cruelty of your circumstances. That his Creed meant that you may never get to be together in the way you both desired. You nodded your head slowly, in understanding and after a few moments, Din removed his hand from your mouth, permitting you to reply.

“Din, I don't want you to violate your Creed for me,” you asserted, horrified at the notion. “But I wish there was some way I could feel your lips against mine. I… care about you, Din. And since you stopped speaking to me, I’ve been a shadow of the person I was. Nothing makes sense without you.”

Din sighed, bringing his hands to your waist. Shivers traversed your flesh at the way he gently squeezed your body in his hands. The care and warmth that you had been missing from him had seemingly returned. Your Din was back. Even if you could never be together, at least he had returned to you. You hoped the callous way he had treated you would now be a distant memory.

“I’m sorry, mesh’la. I know I’ve treated you terribly. I’ve been too much of a coward to accept the way I feel about you,” Din breathed, his voice shaky under the weight of his words.

“Please don’t ever do that to me again, Din,” you pleaded. “I cannot take it, the anguish of racking our every interaction in my brain. Trying to figure out what in Maker’s name I could possibly have done.”

“You did nothing,” Din insisted, emphasising that fact keenly. “I am not good with… with acknowledging my feelings. How quickly I came to care for you terrified me more than any job I have ever taken. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

“Oh, Din. I was terrified I had lost you forever,” you admitted, voice cracking as tears began to stream down your cheeks.

Din did not reply immediately. Instead, he lifted a hand from your waist and carefully wiped the tears that flowed down your cheeks with the soft leathery tips of his gloves.

“I know. I’m so sorry,” Din sighed. “I will spend tomorrow and every day that follows rectifying the damage I have done. Will you allow me to do that?”

You nodded eagerly, unable to reply with words given the way Din was cupping your jaw with his hand and stroking your cheek softly.

“Good,” Din breathed. “Why don’t we get some rest? I need to sleep the booze off. Then, I swear tomorrow will be a fresh start for us. No more hiding and ignoring you. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, smiling for the first time in what felt like months.

You helped Din to his bunk. Although he had begun to sober up somewhat, he was still unsteady on his feet. He slurred apologies into the side of your face and hair as he went, and you felt the way your spirit lifted at knowing how truly remorseful he was.

As you rested your head on your pillow that night, you grinned until your cheeks ached. The smile had not left your features since Din had told you the way he felt about you. Tonight, your body ached with glee, not under the weight of profound sorrow. No sobs were afflicting you, just happiness over the future that lay ahead.

✯ ✯ ✯

The sounds of Din’s footsteps rapping against the floor beyond your bunk caused your eyelids to flutter open slowly. For a moment, your body defaulted to the way his presence had made you feel for the past few weeks and seized up in fear. Then, you recalled the events of the previous night and everything felt lighter. As you lay there for a few moments and processed the sounds, you were immediately relieved to hear that Din’s footsteps were much more even and steady, as they had always been before last night. Your Din was truly back.

You opened the door to your bunk and grinned at the sight before you. Din was rummaging around in some crates, searching for something. For weeks when you had entered the same space as him, he had not acknowledged your existence. Now, however, when he heard the door opening which signified your presence, he looked up immediately. Din did not use his task as an excuse to ignore your existence. He seemed to be honouring the fresh start that he had promised.

“Morning, mesh’la,” Din said softly, “How did you sleep?”

“I slept perfectly, thank you,” you replied with a smile. “What are you looking for?”

“This,” Din whispered, drawing his hands from behind his back. You watched with confusion as he held up an old shirt and tore a length from it. Then he beckoned you to approach him.

“What if I told you that there was a way to circumvent the rules, without breaking my Creed?” Din questioned as you approached.

“Are you sure, Din?” you asked, voice filled with uncertainty, despite the way your pulse had quickened.

“Do you trust me?” Din breathed, answering your question with his own.

“Of course,” you nodded in an instant, even if his response had done nothing to allay your confusion.

His gloved hands held the strip of material up taut between them. You realised, as his hands moved towards you, cloth stretching across your face, that he was about to blindfold you. You knew you should have been terrified that an emotionally volatile Mandalorian, who had been so inebriated he could barely walk mere hours ago, was about to cut off one of your senses in this manner. A life of travelling through the galaxy meant that you were well-versed in sensing danger. On the surface, this appeared to be one such dangerous situation which you had spent your time desperate to avoid. However, the man in question who was about to deny you of your most vital sense was undoubtedly a gentle, considerate man. He was your Din, a man who you knew and trusted like no other. Your Din, who had returned to you. There was no fear or hesitation in your heart as the cloth was tied around you.

With your eyesight cut off, your hearing became more sensitive. You almost gasped as you heard the hissing of Din’s helmet depressurising. This was happening. You wanted to enjoy every second of it, every touch and sound. But it was difficult to appreciate every little noise given the way your heart thundered in your chest and resonated in your ears. You barely remembered how to breathe as, with one hand, Din steadied himself on your hip, while the other cupped your chin and turned it towards his face.

Then, his soft, plush lips brushed against yours, moustache tickling your upper lip lightly. You almost giggled at the sensation. But just at that moment your lips began to curve into a smile, Din placed his hand on the side of your neck and slid his tongue into your mouth. All coherent thought vanished.

You could not be certain, but you supposed that you were the first person Din had ever kissed. His inexperience should not be mistaken for inability, though. You were stunned by how he was applying himself as his lips moved softly against yours, conveying wordlessly the affection he held for you. With every small gesture of his lips against yours, you were beginning to understand just how long he had been holding back. He was desperate for you, a man possessed. Hungry for the touch of your lips against his. You braced yourself against him, hands coming to rest on the cool, hard metal of his chestplate.

Eventually, Din pulled away. Your chest heaved due to the exertion of the kiss. For a few seconds, you both stood there in the afterglow, unsteady, ragged breaths melding together. Din’s hands stayed on your hips, holding you close to him.

“I love you,” you whispered, without really thinking. You momentarily tensed up, fearing that you had said too much. But you felt the way Din’s hands tightened their grip on your waist, his thumbs tracing slow circles into the skin above your rib cage.

“I know,” Din finally replied.

Your mouth parted in shock. Then, he stole another kiss from your lips. This time it was languid, unhurried. You smirked against his plush lips as the turn of events sunk in. For weeks, you had been so convinced that Din hated you. Never again would you feel the closeness of your bond with him. When, in reality, he was not only aware of your feelings but reciprocated them.

“I’m so sorry for the way I treated you,” Din whispered, as his gloved thumb stroked your cheek tenderly. “I was scared by my feelings for you. No one has ever made me feel this way before. I didn’t think anyone would ever make me feel this way. That was until I met you, mesh’la.”

“I was terrified I had done something to offend you,” you admitted.

“Never. You are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. Your presence in my life is a gift. I am sorry for not making you feel that every day.”

You almost burst into tears at his words, utterly floored by his sheer sentimentality. You knew there was a gentle, caring man underneath all that armour. He may have disappeared temporarily, but there was no doubt that he was back now.

“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you, mesh’la?” Din spoke again when you were too overwhelmed by his words to reply.

“You can start by telling me what mesh’la means,” you smiled. “Then, perhaps another kiss.”

“Beautiful,” Din sighed, “It means beautiful, in Mando’a.”

“Oh, Din,” you whispered, as you leaned in for another kiss. This time, your hands came to cup his face, delighting in the scratchy stubble you found underneath your fingers. You could feel the strong outline of his jaw. You had never laid eyes upon him, but you knew he was gorgeous. After the kiss ended, you pulled away and held each other for a few moments.

“I love you too, by the way,” Din whispered into your hair, before adding: “Mesh’la.”

You couldn’t help but break into a wide grin. Now that you knew what the word meant, your head was spinning with giddiness. You and Din stayed that way, wrapped in each other’s arms, enjoying your newfound closeness. You would have been quite content to remain that way forever, but there was an entire galaxy out there for the two of you to explore.

You heard the unmistakable hissing sound of a Mandalorian helmet pressurising and then gentle fingers at the material’s knot at the back of your head. When Din removed your blindfold, you were not surprised to be greeted with the steely gaze of his helmet once more. This was how it had to be.

You supposed that perhaps it should feel strange to know that you had never laid eyes upon his face, but were certain that you had already fallen in love with him. Knowing Din Djarin, however, went far beyond seeing his physical features. You knew his heart, his inherent goodness despite the way he had lost himself for a while. You only knew what the touch of his lips felt like against yours and that he maintained a moustache and facial hair. Beyond those details, you knew nothing of his face. But you knew the bond the two of you shared, the nights discussing your pasts, your presents, your futures. The way you would laugh until your ribs ached. How protective he was over you.

So, sure, you had never seen his face… but you knew that you loved him all the same.

You climbed the rungs of the ladder to the cockpit, following behind Din. You’d follow him to the ends of the galaxy if he so much as asked. You knew he’d do the same in return. You didn't know exactly what the future held for the two of you as you sat back in the red leather chair of the Razor Crest’s cockpit. As Din punched in the coordinates to your next destination, you sighed happily. This was a fresh start. The beginning of the rest of your lives together.

His crisis of faith had been averted.

#din djarin fic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian x you #pedro pascal characters #my fics #GETTING THIS JUST RIGHT FRIED MY BRAIN LOL i hope you liked it!!!!!

174 notes · View notes