Star Wars Trash

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

“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.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

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.

His voice dropped, rough and sultry.

“…Go close the cockpit door.”