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Summary:

Din doesn't like you avoiding him but he doesn't realize you're not mad at him, just giving him some space.

Notes:

Just some drabble for ya'll while I debate writing an A/B/O for Din. (My guilty pleasure)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The old data tablet glowed dully from where you were nestled on your stacked cots. A soft orange hue illuminated your face as you heard Mando's familiar footfall make his way to the rack. You pass him a glance when he meanders in and suppress a smile.

It really urged your maternal instincts when he fretted over the little green guy. Like now when Din was tucking him in a little tighter. After a moment he turned and stood in what was realistically a supply closet. (Really the ship wasn't made for two (and a half) people.) You pretend like his gaze doesn't make you uncomfortable.

"Tomorrow," he finally starts, breaking the delicate stillness that is only joined by the quiet hum and groan of the crest, "we should land to resupply." You nod without drawing your eyes away.

"I already went through and made a supply list a couple days ago, do you want to look it over?" You reply.

"No, that's fine. What..." he begins and pauses, unsure. "What are you up to."

You don't suppress your smile this time as he starts to detatch his armor in the soft glow of the room. He had sought you out, which was a rarity and had only happened on occasion. His endearing hesitancy was misplaced with you, but it was too cute for you not to send him a grin from your fort of blankets and pillows you'd smuggled onto the ship.

You twist in the blankets, turning on your side toward the Mandalorian. "I'm reading to go to sleep," you hum as he fiddles with removing his thigh gaurds.

Sleep was harder to come by in deep space. At times it lulled with what felt like weeks off suspension, other times it felt like it kept you awake. It was difficult to entertain yourselves and you often pester Din, your boss. His dour responses amused you to a certain point and you'd left him up in the cockpit for a while now. Shit, it'd probably been a whole day since you'd actually spoken to him, not that you were avoiding him for reason other than giving him his space. That tended to be difficult to do when you were on a small ship.

"Not tired?" He grunts.

"Not quite yet."

You remember when you first joined his crew and he used to sleep with his armor on. It took too much nagging about how awful it was for him to sleep in his armor for him to actually stop doing it.

The air stirs with silence again as he continues to shuffle out of the shiny beskar. Finally, he moves over to your cot, that sits at chest level for him. Your surprised when he folds his arms on the edge and leans against it. The cot creaks quietly. "Are you upset with me?" He rumbles softly through the modulator.

"No, why do you think that?" You quickly demand, letting the data pad drop against your chest.

"You've been avoiding me."

"I just figured I'd give you some space." He remains silent for a moment, then leans his helmet down, letting it rest against your thigh like he can't hold it up anymore. It spurs buried feelings in you. The ones you try to cover but make you fret over the dangerous bounty hunter. He rarely initiated contact.

You reach a hand out, thumbing a snag in his flight suit's cuff and rubbing a finger over it in the stillness. "You tired?" You hum quietly.

"No," he responds. It's suddenly extra cozy because he nuzzles the helmet against you in the stuffy room.

"Why don't you come up here," you prompt.

"What?" It seems to take him by surprise.

"Just trust me, come lay on top of me." You urge.

"I'm too heavy."

Scoffing at him, you start pulling back the blankets, which makes him draw away. The data pad slides off you and onto the side. "Just get up here, tin can." Din gives his signature sigh before turning to take off his gloves and kick off his boots in the corner with his armor. He places a foot on the edge of his own cot before swinging his leg up into the bed with you.

Triumph fills you as he adjusts beside you. He grunts when you throw your arms around his neck and pull him down to your shoulder. "Seriously, lay on me."

"Why do you even want that?" He groans settling down. Seemingly unsure where to put his hands. "This is going to be uncomfortable, there's not enough room."

"Stop whining. It's only going to be uncomfortable if you make it so. Besides, it's actually very comfortable to let someone lay on you. Like this." You pull on one of his arms to drape it across you and hook one of his ankles with the top of your foot to drag it between your legs. There, just lay down, you think.

He awkwardly settles as you drag your data pad back and lean your cheek against the top of his helmet.

"This is nice," he finally acknowledges.

"Mhmm." You kiss the top of his helmet. "Cozy."

He starts to squirm. And your going to argue but he starts tugging blankets back around you both. "Spoiled," you tease. He just nuzzles his way back into your arms.

Despite not being tired, Din seems to fall right to sleep because very soon he is snoring under his helmet. It makes you grin and tuck the tablet onto the wall where you hang it near by to charge. You carefully wrap your arms around him and snuggle a little deeper. There is nothing like his arms tightening around you gently.

...

You're awoken from sleepy by Din drawing up and away. "'Scuse you?" You grumble irately.

"What?" He rasps.

"Where you going?" You demand. He shakes his head at you.

"To bed." You're too tired to hide the offended expression on your face. "Don't make that face."

"I thought you were cozy?"

"I thought I was spoiled?" He counters as you rub your eyes. You give a sleepy pout.

"But I like spoiling you," you murmur. His shoulder sags as he sighs.

"Roll on your side then."

"Yay."

"And you say I'm spoiled." He apparently decides your not turning fast enough and pushes you by your hip. He lowers himself behind you, dragging blankets over the both of you.

"I like cuddling with you. You're toasty." You hum, pulling his arm around you.

Din manages to actually sleep six hours. Which has to be a record.

Notes:

Leave Meemaw some love bitte!