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matth1w · 4 years

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I Won’t Say - Chapter 1

(Gif Credit)

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Summary: You and Obi-Wan stand on the edge of something more than friendship. With Anakin in your ear and a special gift from Obi-Wan, will you finally admit your feelings?

Warnings: Typical slow burn angst

Rating: Everyone

Word Count: 2,837 words

Note: I took some liberties and I’m not an expert in Star Wars so apologies in advance if any terminology or anything is incorrect.

For: my dear friend @commander-writergirl’s #800CelebrationChallenge / I chose the song prompt I Won’t Say (I’m In Love) from Hercules

A soft knock on your door stirred you out of the book you had been reading. The climatic scene was unfolding between two classical lovers who were finally professing their undying love for one another. If you couldn’t live out your desires, you could at least read about them.

“Come in!” you announced as you shut the book and shifted in your chair. You knew it could only be a handful of people at this time, even less being so polite as to knock (looking at you, Anakin Skywalker).

You didn’t try to contain the joy on your face when Obi-Wan stepped through the door. You quickly stood and rushed to embrace him. Something you only felt certain enough to do after long or dangerous missions and in private places.

Obi-Wan chuckled underneath your touch as he wrapped one arm around your waist, the sound coming from deep within his chest.

“Careful, my dear.” He murmured in his low comforting voice against your hair.

You pulled back, letting your hand rest on his arm as you examined his face.

“Are you hurt?”

This brought another sparkling laugh from Obi-Wan.

“No, no. I’m perfectly fine.” He explained with a wry smile, “I just didn’t want you to crush your present.”

Your face lit up at the mention of a present and a slight blush rose up your cheeks.

Obi-Wan smiled at you as he moved the arm that was behind his back and held a small potted plant in front of him. It was a trio of small, delicate white flowers adorned with smatterings of blue and purple.

“It’s beautiful!” You whispered in adoration and genuine surprise. You had never seen a flower like it. And it of course meant that much more coming from your favorite Jedi.

Had you not been so enamored by the floral gift, you would have flinched at the electricity that ran through you as your fingers brushed against Obi-Wan’s as you accepted the present.

“Do you like it?” Obi-Wan mused. You looked up at his affectionate eyes that had been examining your reaction and giggled.

“Of course I do!” You admonished, but it was without malice as you truly loved the easy teasing between you two.

Obi-Wan moved to stroke his beard as he nodded, trying to maintain a semblance of control over his facial expressions and busy his hands that yearned to reach out and touch you.

He cleared his throat, trying to rid his head of distracting thoughts.

“It’s a unique thing. It’s called an Evening Primrose. It opens up during the nighttime then shuts when the sun rises.”

You examined the flower curiously, turning it in your hands. You had never heard of such a thing. You wondered for a moment if it had medicinal uses.

“To be quite honest, when I saw it, I couldn’t help but think of you, my little night owl.”

Your head shot up and you were certainly blushing at the nickname. Obi-Wan had never called you anything like that before, and certainly never looked at you with such tenderness either.

You tore your eyes away, looking down to the flower below. And in a desperate attempt to maintain the light atmosphere, rather than delve into anything that could be perilous, you returned once more to light hearted banter.

“Not everyone can be as early a riser like you, Obi-Wan.” Your lips curled into a content, albeit secretly saddened smile and his soon matched yours at the surface.

“But then who would bring you breakfast when you sleep in?” Obi joked back and you had to laugh at that, the tension easing from your body.

“I would say Anakin but I know he struggles as much as I do most days.”

Obi-Wan sighed at that and once again brought his hand to his chin.

“Yes, he’s become much less strict about his morning meditation since he’s become a Knight.”

“It’s not the worst thing in the world.” You chided. “You should try it sometime, you might like it.”

The unintentional double meaning behind your words made Obi’s smile turn upside down for a fraction of a second, it would not have been noticeable if you weren’t so close to him or had known him for so long.

The room became silent for a moment as you struggled with what you should say and Obi-Wan seemed to do the same.

You met his eyes hesitantly and lifted the potted primrose up.

“Thank you for the gift, Obi. It was very thoughtful of you.”

He smiled, that soft, melancholic smile that never reached his eyes that appeared often during moments like this.

“Of course.”, he said quietly, his voice low and weak.

Fearing nothing was left to say than things neither of you were ready to speak aloud, he nodded.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He reached his hand out to rest on your shoulder and smiled more genuinely and lightly this time. The familiar sparkle of lighthearted teasing covering the misery brewing within them.

“I’ll need to get my rest if I’m to wake up before you. Though I suppose it won’t be too hard.”

He tauntingly grinned at you and you rolled your eyes, trying to focus on anything but his light touch and the unspoken words and emotions that desperately tried to surface around you.

“Goodnight, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan nodded with a gentlemanly smile and bowed before he turned on his feet and exited your room.

In the quiet air, your fingers caressed the smooth terra-cotta underneath them as you brought the flower up to your nose to take in its sweet aroma.

—————

The soft chimes of your alarm stirred you from your slumber. It had been peaceful and calm night of rest, taking away your worries and repeating thoughts and replacing them with lovers dreams.

You shifted onto your side, admiring the now closed flowers. They were a beautiful sight to behold, even now, and one you could get used to seeing each time you opened your eyes.

Your heart pained at how you would much rather see a different view each morning, a pair of light blue eyes, but you fervently pushed the image away.

—————

Today had been a slow day in the medical bay, the hours crept on like thick mud. Thankfully, the evening and end of your shift were finally arriving as you thrummed your fingers on the table beside you. You had finished your rounds on the longer term patients and just finished typing up your last report on your datapad.

You heard one of your coworkers call your name. They didn’t sound panicked, moreso tired and annoyed so you didn’t worry but walked their way nonetheless.

When you reach the front of the wing, you saw Anakin standing with a mischievous smile alongside your much less energized coworker.

A slight tinge of pity hit you, Denoto, the veteran medical assistant had been there for nearly 12 hours today. You glanced at your watch to check the time. There were only a few minutes left in your shifts and the new wave had already arrived.

“You can go, Denoto,” you notified him with a smile that hopefully had seemed compassionate. You two didn’t much get along and you knew he envied your position as Head Medic.

The man gave a curt nod in response and walked past Anakin without a second look.

You rolled your eyes at the grumpy old man with Anakin and turned around.

“Come on,” you waved him back and heard him quickly follow, his boots sharp on the hardened floor.

Anakin cleared his throat as he caught up to walk in line with you.

“I got a bit scratched up on our mission. I think it’s fine...” his voice lowered as he leaned in with a sly smile, “but Padme insisted you check it.”

You smiled back, “She’s typically right. Let me see.” You had reached your destination and patted the bed beside you for him to hop up on.

He lifted his sleeve to reveal a minor wound on his shoulder. It was nothing to be worried about, but it could use some cleaning as it looked like it hadn’t been cleaned properly.

It wouldn’t surprise you, Anakin was reckless and once countered your reprimands with the claim that if he tended to his own wounds, you wouldn’t get to see him as often.

You settled into the familiar process and Anakin leaned back and closed his eyes. You didn’t mind, the silence was comfortable due to your strong friendship.

“So,” his voice broke the silence, mischief apparent in the one word alone.

You looked up to see him looking at you with those interrogating eyes and you turned around to pull out a bacta pad from the drawer behind you. You had a feeling you knew what he wanted to talk about.

“Did Obi-Wan give you your gift?” His voice was playful and teasing, like only a best friend’s could.

You blushed as you turned back around, even though you willed your face and emotions to stay neutral and didn’t meet his eyes, though you could feel them practically burning a hole in you.

He chuckled, “I take that as a yes.”

Your eyes flitted to his momentarily then back at the wound. You knew Anakin wouldn’t leave well enough alone so you gave in with a sigh.

“Yes he did. I assume you had a role in it?”

You poked him with your finger, outside his wound but he still flinched as it tickled him slightly, a satisfied smile blossoming on your lips.

His signature troublemaker smile came back slowly, like he was relishing in the moment.

“Actually, no. The first I knew of it was when we were boarding the ship back.”

You blushed at that. It was harder to dismiss the gift as simply your friend’s meddling if he had no part in it.

You silently took off your gloves, standing to dispose of them in the bin, and patted Anakin’s covered shoulder. You didn’t want to think too much about it. And certainly didn’t want to hear any more of Anakin’s thoughts on the matter.

“Just a small infection.” You were pleased with the neutrality of your voice.

“Come back tomorrow to get fresh gauze. But otherwise, no one needs to worry about you.” Your voice and eyes softened as you finished.

He smiled gratefully, thankful for your abilities and confidence.

“Thank you.”

Anakin took your hand and looked seriously at you a moment before speaking in a hushed tone.

“Obi-Wan cares about you, you know.”

“Of course he does,” you sighed as you softly pulled your hand away and fidgeted with the roll of gauze you were packing away. “But no more than he cares about you or Ashoka. He probably is only kind because I tend to his injuries and don’t get all starry eyed around him or the other Jedi.”

“But...” he interjected.

“He’s a friend, Anakin. Nothing more.” Your voice grew stronger, more stubborn.

“Not like you...” you lowered your voice before your continued. “... and Padme.”

Anakin shook his head in exasperation and scoffed quietly.

“Whatever you say, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

His playful smile returned and you knew there were no hard feelings between you two.

“You better!” You chastised as you playfully swatted him.

A laugh is shared between you two before Anakin bows out and you’re left with your own spiraling thoughts, trying to decipher the meaning of Obi-Wan’s gift.

—————

You had tried to sleep, a bit earlier than usual but you couldn’t stop admiring the primrose on the windowsill. One of your perks of your role as head medic was that you had a corner room that was tucked away down a long hall and had a small window.

The flowers nearly glowed in the soft moonlight, and you couldn’t help but be taken with the beautiful, unique flowers. But also, more truly, what they represented.

A gift from Obi-Wan.

It wasn’t the first but certainly the most thoughtful, more-so now that you knew he brought it to you without any heavy-handed suggestion from Anakin.

You had to admit you were a bit disappointed that you hadn’t seen him today. You cursed yourself for the silly notion. You had just seen him yesterday. Although, it had been brief, and you wanted to hear more about his mission.

Yes, that was why you were disappointed. You wanted to hear about the mission. You laughed bitterly at the lie you were telling yourself and pictured Anakin calling you out on it if he was here.

A bit frustrated and knowing sleep wouldn’t come to you just yet, you sighed and swung your legs over the side of the bed. You stared at the flower a few minutes more before you decided to stretch your legs.

You didn’t know much about how to care for the flower but you thought the soil could give you a clue. Shuffling over to the pot, you determined it was watered enough. But the shine of the flower entranced you once more and you allowed yourself to daydream for just a moment.

You imagined planting it in the small garden in your backyard. You would tend to it and the other flowers and plants while Obi-Wan sat by the small pond meditating or reading.

You two would share lunches outside in the garden when the weather permitted and there would be a bench upon which you both could sit. And as the moon rose and the primrose bloomed, you would admire the stars, Obi pointing out which planets were which and telling you stories about the ones he had visited.

You blinked, the yearning pain in your heart bringing you back to reality. You felt incredibly foolish. Not only because Obi-Wan would never leave the Order for you but also because you knew that dreams that felt so good when they start out would eventually twist into nightmares and you would end up crying your heart out once more.

You had thought about sharing that ideal life with another a long time ago, when you had just finished your training and were stationed at a small hospital. He had been a kind man, another medic who had been on a different team but would always come around for talk whenever your schedules allowed. He was in a terrible accident one day and you stayed by his side through it all.

You scoffed internally as anger bubbled inside you, if there was a prize for rotten judgment, you would’ve won it. He played you like a fool. Once he was healed and regained his life, he left you, cold and alone for another.

You swore off love for a long time, determined that no man was worth the aggravation, the heartache, or time.

But then you became a medic here. And you met Obi-Wan. How twisted of fate to make you open your heart again for someone who could never truly be yours.

Who do you think you’re kidding? He’s the earth and heaven to you. No matter how hard you tried keep it hidden or conceal it, it was plain as day, you were in love. Anakin assured you as much. And mind reading or not, you were certain Obi-Wan himself knew.

You sighed, you hated acknowledging the truth of your feelings, and that... you loved him. But you would never speak it aloud. Not even in the confines of your room, alone and hidden in the darkness.

Plus, you thought your heart had learned its lesson. Your head was screaming for you to get a grip, reminding you of how you had cried your heart out for weeks over failed love before.

This back and forth was so tiring. You should just face it like a grown woman. Tell Obi-Wan your feelings and then leave if, no when, he says it can’t be.

No chance or way you’re doing that. Throwing out your career and friendships. You won’t say it. You can’t say it.

But your heart tempted you with images about how things could end up if you gave up and gave into your feelings. You stopped yourself as much as it hurt, that scene won’t play.

You imagined if Anakin and Padme were here now as your heart and mind fight amongst themselves.

They would say you’re in love, you’d tell them they’re way off base and try to get them off your case, but in turn they’d just tell you you don’t need to be proud, that it’s okay you’re in love. You smiled at the antics you were sure would happen.

A strong wave of sleep washed over you as you made your way back to your bed. You happily gave in as you laid your blanket atop your body, hoping to at least live out your fantasy in your dreams.

As you drifted to sleep, you promised yourself something.

You wouldn’t say you were in love...

At least out loud.

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ollypopwrites · 4 years

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The Contract

(Gif is mine! Anyone can use it if they want to, though!)

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader (Female)

Summary: Din offers you something that you aren’t sure you’re ready to receive.

Word count: 9k (don’t hate me lol)

Warnings: 18+ only please, smut (sort of vague smut at the beginning, very explicit at the end), oral sex (male recieving), fingering, breeding kink, language.

a/n: this got very domestic, very quick. Please forgive any incorrect lore -- I mostly used Legends context for my research since there is more information there. I worked on this longer than I’ve worked on any other fic (that’s posted anyway) and I’m so excited to share my first Mando fic with you guys! Also shout out to the Poe Hoes for all their help and support !

tag list: @bisexual-space-slut @peachdameron @thirsty-flygirl @spacemacandcheese @commander-writergirl @tintinwrites

“If you say yes, we won’t have to do this in the dark anymore.”

His voice is quiet and very close, his breath tickles against the shell of your ear as you lay with your back flush to his chest. Your eyes fly open when he says it, but they may as well have stayed closed with how much you can see while all the lights are off.

You were familiar with it by now, the two of you reaching for each other, making something in the nothingness of the pitch black interior of the Razor Crest. You could never be afraid of the dark again, not when you knew he was hiding in it. Waiting for you.

There were countless times you wished it wasn’t necessary. It felt unfair sometimes, that you couldn’t hide from him but he always got to hide from you. All the times your feelings were written all over your face, and he always got to choose what he showed you. But you still never asked to see.

The helmet and all that ‘this is The Way’ stuff were everything to him. Given to him from the people who had offered him hope when he had nothing left. You would never ask him to sacrifice that, and he wouldn’t, even if you did ask. It would probably only push him away and you couldn’t risk that.

He can be ill-tempered and sometimes his acerbic remarks cut a little deep. And the blankness of the helmet just seems to add to the distance he tries to maintain with the rest of the galaxy. But he has a good heart. He wants to do right by what few Mandalorians are left, he’s honorable, and he cares about people. Din diligently ignores any comments about his ‘goodness’, and that helmet is probably his saving grace when it comes to pretending he’s nothing but the big bad bounty hunter people always hear about.

But it doesn’t make the fact that he is a good man any less true.

You had already accepted the fact that you would probably never see his face, and in exchange you get to see a gentleness in him that maybe only the kid has ever seen. You get to feel his lips against yours when the lights are out. You get to hear his soft laughter and hear him whisper your name like it’s a prayer.

It’s a pretty fair trade.

But sometimes, when you think he isn’t looking, you stare at the beskar and wonder why it would be so bad if he did let you see what his smile looks like. Just once.

The prospect of that wish being fulfilled should make you ecstatic. You should be jumping at the opportunity. Somehow though, you can’t let yourself believe it is actually going to happen.

How could things be like this for so long and then just suddenly change?

At some point Din just became part of the darkness that surrounded you. What is it going to be like without the blanket of nothingness you two wrapped yourselves in? You feel stupid about your reaction, you aren’t the one who was revealing yourself but every time he brings it up you are flooded with dread.

This is a huge fucking honor and you’re torn apart at the mere thought of receiving it.

Do you even deserve it?

“What are you thinking?” He asks after you don’t respond for a while. His fingers start to map out the curve of your shoulder, trailing down your arm. “You disappear every time I ask.”

“You would be giving me so much at once,” you finally find it in you to say it. It’s quiet and somewhat meek, but you say it.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll get to...to see you.” You grab his hand, stopping its movement.

There’s a heavy pause, and you feel him tense up behind you. “Are you afraid…” he begins slowly, “that you won’t like what you see?”

“No, no, it’s not that --”

“Then what’s the problem?”

The dark is your great equalizer. You never get to read his face for a hidden feeling, and he always gets to read yours. Until he shuts off all of the lights and you two just reach for each other. You both find safety in its embrace and in the embrace of one another. You both choose to reveal only what you want to, choose to confess quietly or keep your thoughts to yourself. Here in the dark it’s safe.

You whisper, “it means so much. What could I ever give you in return?”

There it is. The real confession. You had long accepted that this was just how things were going to be. Accepted that you meant a lot to him, but that the odds were he didn’t have ‘forever’ type of intentions when it came to you.

When he proposed the idea of marriage, honest-to-maker marriage, you thought he was making a joke. The Mandalorian? Settling down with a wife and an adopted, magic-wielding, fifty-year old baby? He had to be fucking with you.

The thing is, you had decided you were going to be with him until you die from unnatural circumstances or until he decides it’s time for all of this to stop. The baby loves you, and you love him so you could never just up and leave of your own accord. And Din needs some help on this maybe-endless journey to find the little one’s people. He needs help looking after himself too. Maybe not always on a physical level, but he likes having company whether he wants to admit it or not.

So when he began coming to you for companionship along with all the other shit you handle for him on the Razor Crest, you welcomed it. And when you started to realize you loved him you kept that very neatly in check. And you still do. You take what affection he gives you, grateful and full of reciprocation, but you never let yourself fall into the fanciful idea that he is yours.

And then he told you his name. Something that you know is very intimate for him. Even that felt like such a huge gesture of trust and affection at the time, and you didn’t think it would get better than that. That was enough, more than enough.

Then he asked you to marry him, and he was serious about it.

And suddenly it became all too clear you had been the only one guarding your heart here in the dark. Constantly bracing for impact, waiting for him to let you crash from so far a fall. Din was offering you everything he had to give. What the hell could you offer him in return?

Just as his silence and your own internal monologuing is about to send you into panic mode he speaks.

“You. That’s all I want.”

It knocks the breath out of your lungs, tears spring into your eyes and your throat closes up around a sob you absolutely refuse to let loose. You turn in his arms and he loosens his grip to let you. You try to find his lips in the dark, but it takes a few tries. You’ve done this so many times but you still miss your mark every once in a while. When he kisses you, it's always like he might not ever get to again.

When you break away for air his lips still don’t leave your skin. He’s kissing your chin, your jawline, cheeks -- whatever he can get to.

“That’s not much,” you say, trying to be lighthearted, trying to force a laugh around the lump in your throat. The tears from your eyes have spilled over and you don’t doubt that he can taste them on your skin. “You sure you don’t want something else?”

He doesn’t laugh at that like you had hoped. You can’t see each other, but he knows you're deflecting anyway.

He can’t keep his hands off of you in the dark. All the while you're trying not to let him know you’re still crying about how sweet he is, even if it is unintentional. Moans help hide the shuddering breaths you're taking when he reaches between your thighs. You wipe the tears from your face before you reach for him, and you think maybe he might not have noticed.

Of course he fucking knows though, and you’re lying to yourself. You can’t find the words to properly tell him how you feel. Mostly fucking honored, just a little scared. It’s a huge thing to do -- to let you see his face, to tie himself to you for as long as you’re both breathing.

He maneuvers himself over you, so you’re chest to chest and your thighs cradle his hips. Your senses are flooded with him. The warmth of his skin, the puffs of his breath, and the way his muscles are tensing under your fingers. When he slides his cock into you, he gives a low groan at how tight and wet you are. You let out a sound that could either be a sob or a deep heavy moan, and you’re not even sure which one it is. You’re consumed by how he seems to melt into your very being. You can’t even decipher where you end and he begins -- it’s all the same when he’s this close.

Din is definitely not silver-tongued, but he always says what he means. Sometimes things come out harsher than he wants them to but it’s always straightforward and honest.

So when he says, “stay, just stay with me,” while he’s fucking you, thrusting at an even pace but trying not to rail into you as he often does, you know that’s really all he’s asking for.

It’s one of the few times you wish he would shut up because he’s somehow about to make you cum and weep at the same time.

“Let me take care of you and the kid,” he grunts, “and fuck -- we can have some of our own... ”

He didn’t even have to finish the sentence. The thought of him filling you up, no, just the thought of him wanting you to carry his children throws you over the edge. Din doesn’t speak another full sentence while he fucks you through your orgasm, he’s too distracted by the way you clench around him. Single words, disjointed thoughts are pulled compulsively from his lips. Something about you being sweet and good and strong -- it’s getting a little hard to decipher the closer he gets to his release. He’s trying to tell you he wants this, he wants you, he wants to be able to look at you and have you look right back at him.

It doesn’t make the nervousness go away, not completely, but you’re comforted. The initial panic of simply not being enough, feeling like you won’t being able seems to have passed. If all he really wants is for you to stay with him, you can do that. You were going to do that anyway.

He’s still inside of you, barely holding his weight off of you as he hovers as close as he can after he cums. He’s kissing whatever skin he can reach, and when he gets to your neck you lace your fingers into his hair.

“Let’s do it.”

He stills and there’s a beat.

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you say, feeling a smile creep onto your face, “I’m sure.”

When you wake up the ship is at lightspeed and lights are all on again but you’re alone. You can hear the baby babbling at Din from above in the cockpit, and you make your way up the ladder to join them. The baby is in his lap, behaving for now, and talking away like either of you can understand him. You sit in the co-pilot's chair watch as the stars streak by, starting an easy discussion about what planet you’re going to and what supplies are needed. He doesn’t bring up the conversation from the night before, and you don’t either because if he wanted to elaborate on details he would have already.

It’s business as usual, as close to routine as the three of you get. Eventually the baby gets bored and starts pressing buttons he shouldn’t and you have to take him back down in the hull. You hand him things to capture his attention while you work and he follows you around leaving a trail of random shit behind him as the cycle continues. Din lands the ship on whatever planet his quarry is hiding out on, you do a supply run and then wait for him to come back towing along a stranger that begs him not to turn them in.

It’s just ‘business as usual’ for you don’t know how long.

You aren’t upset -- you already knew he still had a handful of fobs to get to. It was what kept you paid, the ship flying and the baby fed. Din is, however, going at it with a strange sort of persistence. Usually he would allow for a little bit of downtime in between the quarries -- maybe a few hours or a day or so where he would clean his armor and his blasters and help you out with the kid or whatever needed to be repaired on the ship. Instead you seem to be jumping from one planet to another: the moment a quarry is in carbonite and stored away he’s climbing the ladder to the cockpit and you’re all off again.

There’s no nights spent between you in the dark either, and you’re starting to think you might have said something that offended him the night you finally agreed to getting married. You only know so much about Mandalorian culture and you go over everything you said again and again to figure out if you somehow forgot saying something incredibly stupid.

But his demeanor hasn’t changed much when you do get to talk to him. He doesn’t gruffly respond to you like you’re irritating him. No single word replies employed to discourage you from making conversation but that only serves to confuse you more. Occasionally he fucks you, but they’re only quickies and he doesn’t take off the beskar and you’re not really complaining about the sex but you are starting to feel a little uncertain about what the hell is going on in his head.

You could just ask. But… You don’t know if he is actually angry and you’re afraid if you he’s going to be more upset that you don’t remember whatever stupid thing you said that night.

Eventually he’ll tell you what’s going on, and you let him have his space until he does.

When the carbonite storage is full and you’re heading to Nevarro again, you’re glad for the chance to spend some time off of the ship. It feels suffocating with all the uncertainty that is settling in your stomach again. You swaddle the baby up enough that his ears aren’t popping out of the blankets before setting him up in a makeshift sling that keeps him close to your chest and your arms free. You throw a bag over your shoulder, full of snacks for the kid, most of your money and some other odds and ends you like to keep handy on any outings. You’re ready to go before Din is, impatiently waiting for him outside of the ship.

When he finally walks out of the hatch he stops for a moment, and you can feel his gaze on you even if you can’t see his eyes.

“Something wrong?” You ask.

“Are you ready?”

“It’s just a drop off, what do I need to be ready for?”

There’s a moment where he just looks at you again. It’s tense and you don’t know how you can tell but it just feels like he’s about to say something or that he at least wants to. But he doesn’t. He simply starts walking towards the archway that leads into the settlement.

You follow him past the foreboding display of Stormtrooper helmets impaled on crude pikes, and onto the main road. You are perusing street vendor wares with glances, just a few paces behind him. On the way out you’ll probably get a chance to actually look, but when Din goes to collect the bounties he walks with a purpose. If you fall behind he’ll remind you for the thousandth time that Nevarro is dangerous and you need to keep close to him. At this point you’re almost tempted to do so, just to get a little bit of a rise out of him, but the baby wiggling against you reminds you why you can’t.

The cantina is dark and dirty but the atmosphere change is welcome, buzzing with excitement and debauchery. Greef Karga greets all of you like you’re old friends when you come to sit down, and you let him get a peek at the baby. It’s a little sweet the way he waves at him, three fingers flapping in front of the bundle of blankets. You can feel the kid moving his arms, like he wants to wave back but you keep him wrapped in the ratty blankets. Din is well-known here, and most people saw what happened the last time anyone tried to take the child away from him. But he errs on the side of caution anyway. The baby stays swaddled and held close enough that someone would have to really look to see him.

“Any interesting stories from your adventures?” Greef asks you with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

“Business as usual,” you smile wide and shrug innocently.

“Speaking of business,” Din interjects, placing all of the fobs on the table.

You tune out a bit as they discuss payment since there’s some kind of discrepancy about what kind of currency is acceptable. As you understand it, this is a recurring issue with Greef. You look around the tavern, fancying yourself as some kind of helper and trying to make sure no one is eyeing the lot of you with ill intentions. People are always looking. Din’s armor is eye-catching and his reputation precedes him, so any newcomers who haven't already heard the stories about what happened at the settlement are getting filled in. No one seems any more out of the ordinary than what is to be expected on Nevarro, but you keep looking into the darkest corners just in case.

“Let’s see what I have for you this time, Mando,” Greef announces, placing some pucks down on the table. “We have a few smugglers, a bail jumper --”

“I’m not taking any pucks,” Din interrupts him, “not right now.”

This gets your attention quick and your head snaps in his direction. Greef and you seem to be on the same page as you both utter a baffled, “what?”

“We have something we have to take care of,” Din responds, not turning his head to acknowledge you.

“We do?” You question, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“Yes.” His tone is a little sharp and you notice it even through the vocoder of his helmet.

“Well, then,” Greef interjects, somewhat suspicious, “when you’re done, I’ll be here.”

“Thank you.” Din says curtly, and turns to look at you finally. “We’re leaving.”

You slide out of the booth as you say your goodbyes to Greef, and start moving towards the door. Once you’re outside again you can feel Din’s gaze burning a hole in the back of your head as he follows a few steps behind you. For a while you take your time looking at the different things for sale by the street vendors. Not really focused on what you’re seeing though, just trying to wait out bombarding Din with questions as much as you can. You have so many.

You end up buying a few things: something for the both of you to eat later, and some weird sweets you know the baby likes. They are an easy way to bribe him into behaving when it's just the two of you on the ship. You’re leading the way back to the Razor Crest when Din grabs your arm and pulls you in a different direction. It’s less crowded off the main street and so you think now is as good a time as any to ask.

“What is it that we have to take care of?”

“You’ll see.”

“You know, the helmet already creates a lot of mystery for you, Mando,” you say dryly, “you don’t need to be cryptic.”

He doesn’t respond, but just leads the way through the much quieter streets and you follow him. Before you know it you're walking through an archway covered by a thick and scratchy blanket, through a small corridor and then down a spiral of stone steps. You trust Din, you trust him with your life, but you are also wondering why the hell he’s bringing you down below the settlement until you see it. The mythosaur sigil made of beskar above the archway gives it away as you approach what looks like a forge, and you’re suddenly all too aware of where you are.

It’s almost eerie how quiet it is down here, you can’t hear any voices, only the sound of metal crashing in a steady almost rhythmic repetition. The baby is fussing, and you focus on pulling him out of the sling while you walk. His eyes blink to adjust to the darker atmosphere and the fussing stops, thankfully. But you are too focused on him and run smack into Din’s back, not realizing he had stopped in front of you. The baby gives an indignant little yell and you cringe as that metal sound stops.

“You’re back,” a woman’s voice echoes off the walls and you peek around Din’s arm to see another Mandalorian. She’s just armored, working at the forge casually, and has got some sort of fur wrap around her shoulders in place of the cape that Din seems to favor.

She looks really fucking cool. You’ve never seen more than one Mandalorian at once, and you try to take in all the other ways her armor is different from Din’s

“Have any others returned?” Din asks.

“A few,” she says with a single nod. “You are supposed to be finding the child’s kin.”

“It’s a long journey.”

“Even longer if you keep stopping.”

“I had to,” Din says immediately.

“Why?”

“Riduurok.”

It’s a word you surely don’t recognize, and the even way he says it gives nothing away. But there’s a very long silence that tells you it's something important. You can’t see her face but you just know this woman is looking at you. Studying you. It’s unnerving and she looks cool but she also looks very dangerous. She’s a Mandalorian, she absolutely could kill you and you’re very aware of that. You shift your weight so you’re hiding behind Din more, just barely peeking around him.

“This is the one?” She asks.

Din turns slightly and presses a hand to the small of your back to guide you so you stand next to him. “Yes.”

The pieces are slotting together in your head but you're missing some vital information. Is he asking for a blessing? Are you going to have to prove your worthiness in battle? You’re relieved that the signs are pointing to him going through with his proposal, you two are going to be getting married, but you’re just a little irritated at being thrown into the deep end.

You have no idea what a Mandalorian wedding is like, and you have no idea what the etiquette is or what you’re expected to do and say. All you can do is offer an uncertain wave to the Armorer and internally cringe at your awkwardness.

Just as the silence starts to make you squirm she speaks again, “you’re certain of this choice?”

You try really hard not to take it as an insult. She doesn’t know you and you’re fumbling this introduction pretty hard. But it does sting a little.

“I am.” Din says it with absolute certainty.

There’s another pause before she speaks again, but she doesn’t sound like she’s disapproving when she announces, “then you will be a clan of three. This is the way.”

“This is the way.” Din repeats.

The Armorer goes back to hammering at whatever beskar she’s working on and Din leads you away. Through corridor after corridor and you still don’t see anyone else there walking through the badly lit enclave. You're staring at the back of the helmet, a frown creasing your brow, still trying to make sense out of all the strangeness. First he seems to avoid you, throwing himself into the bounty hunting and now here you are at a secret enclave with what seemed like a blessing from the tribe matriarch. He’s not a man of many words but this is serious, and you deserve an explanation.

You haven’t been watching the path he’s been on, what turns and corners you’ve come around, but he finally leads you through a door into a small room. It’s sparsely furnished and the only light comes from a few halo lamps that are old but still give off a subtle and warm glow. There’s a single metal chair that looks terribly uncomfortable to sit in, an overturned crate as a small table, along with a bed that has a single pillow and some threadbare blankets. One single trunk is by the door and Din immediately puts his rifle in it as you set your bag down on the bed, before unwrapping the baby from his sling and setting him down to explore the meagre lodgings.

“It isn’t much,” Din says, “but it's safe.”

You turn to him, and cross your arms over your chest, saying nothing.

“What?”

“Can you please tell me what the hell is going on?”

“We’re getting,” he seems to falter a little, almost unsure, “married.”

“Today?”

He doesn’t say anything to that and you take a deep breath, closing your eyes.

“I’m sure I don’t need to remind you, but I’m not a Mandalorian,” you say evenly. “I don’t know what’s going on. Is there something I need to do?”

“Yes,” he says, “there is.”

You’re growing steadily more irritated with him. “Okay, so...what is it?”

“Just...hold on. Just wait.”

You tamp down on the frustration as best as you can. Doubt is creeping up on you, and you’re not sure whether to push the conversation or just let him take the lead. Getting married right now is quick, and you can’t help the somersault your stomach does when you think about it. You’re not uncertain about being married to him, it’s not about being ‘a clan of three’ like the armorer had said but about how uncertain he seems to be. Maybe he was getting cold feet and he was just so damn honorable he felt like he couldn’t back out.

He’s moving around the tiny space almost like he’s looking for a reason to not continue the conversation and it’s almost comical. He seems too big for the room with all of his armor on, and his legs taking him across the room in only a few strides. It would be funny if it didn’t look so much like the behavior of a trapped animal.

He’s fucking with the bed now, swiping his hands over it so that dust rises in clouds between the two of you. The baby sneezes when he inhales some of it and Din mutters an apology under his breath before aggressively beating at the single somewhat pathetic pillow as if he can force it to fluff up with pure willpower. Your jaw clenches and you take a deep breath, eyes clenched shut as you force yourself to speak.

“If you want to take it back… you can.”

He stops and turns his head just enough that he can see you through the corner of the T-shaped visor. “What are you talking about?”

“We’ve barely spoken about this,” you say quickly, before you can lose your courage. “You just… jumped back into the bounty hunting like -- like --” the words aren’t coming to you right away, and you continue to stumble on, “and right now you seem -- and I can’t --” you stop and take a breath, “I just don’t know what you’re thinking.”

“I thought you’d need more time to consider it. I didn’t think...you would say yes so soon,” he says and you feel your shoulders sag.

“So then why don’t we wait a little while?” You move to sit on the bed, looking up at him.

His head tilts to the side just slightly, “I don’t want to wait.”

“What?”

“You said yes and I still had five quarries to bring in,” Din says and through the vocoder it's sometimes hard to discern what his tone is through the helmet but the lightness of his voice sticks out to you. “I wanted to do it then but I thought --” He clears his throat a little. “It’s better to do it somewhere safe.”

The baby grabs both of your attention, asking Din to pick him up with his arms raised and letting out impatient coos. The Mandalorian bends and scoops him up and he’s distracted for only a moment. He’s looking at the baby now, and you don’t say anything so he has to because you’re already upset.

“No one’s seen my face since I was a child. I’m…”

“You’re scared.”

There’s a garbled sound through the vocoder, a harsh breath before he murmurs, “yes.”

“You don’t have to be,” you say softly. “You asked me to stay. Even if you look like that little womprat,” you point to the kid, “I’ll stay.”

You recognize the sound of a short, breathy laugh through the helmet. “Okay.”

“Okay.” You nod your head with a smile. “So are we really doing this today? Just say fuck it and let everything change?”

“Nothing’s going to change,” Din says. “The lights will just be on.”

You don’t have to lay eyes on him to see him, and he’s reminding you of that. He’s revealed more in the dark that could change how you think of him than his face ever would. It’s just another step, just another formality.

Staring at the blankness of the beskar helmet, you can see how his shoulders are rigid and he’s holding the baby like he’s made of glass. You wonder if his face shows his emotions the same way his whole body does. Before he was impatient and now he’s nervous.

“So, what do I have to do? Do I have to fight someone? Please tell me I don’t.” You’re half joking, because you want to put him at ease, but you’re also not sure that you won’t actually have to partake in some Warrior Wedding Rites. “If I have to fight that lady with the fur for your hand in marriage we’re gonna have a problem.”

“That will be a problem,” he agrees. “The armorer is a skilled warrior.”

“Wait? I do have to fight the armorer?”

“That is the way.”

Your eyes widen, “kriff, Din -- she’s going to kill me!”

There’s a low, breathy sound through the vocoder. A sound you absolutely know because the first time you realized what it was you made it a personal mission to hear it more often. He’s laughing at you.

“You’re fuckng with me aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, very funny,” you say dryly, narrowing your eyes in a glare but you’re smiling so you know it doesn’t have the effect you want. “What do I actually have to do? Some sort of a ritual?”

“No,” he says, “we say the vows, and that’s the contract.”

“In front of the tribe?”

He shakes his head, “doesn’t matter where or who is there. We just say the vows.”

“So, we could have done this on the ship?” You ask incredulously. “Nobody here but a toddler to witness?”

“We are the witnesses,” Din says seriously. “It’s between us.”

You nod slowly, it’s very simple and sweet in a way. No ceremony or pomp and circumstance. Just two people saying ‘I’m yours, you’re mine’ and that’s it.

“What are the vows?”

“Once I say them…” he trails off.

“What are they?” You say insistently.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde.”

You bite your lip and frown a little, “wait -- go slower, I’ll -- just repeat it again, I’ll follow.”

He gives another little breathy laugh, setting the baby down next to you and getting to his knees on the ground to face you while you sit on the bed. “You can do it in Basic. Just repeat.”

You nod eagerly and your heart starts hammering in your chest. Excitement this time, no panic just an eagerness that has you almost bouncing on the bed.

You didn’t see him take his gloves off, but his hands are warm in yours now as he begins, “We are one when together.”

“We are one when together,” you repeat.

“We are one when parted, we will share all,” he says each word with more earnesty than you’ve heard before.

“We are one when parted, we will share all,” you’re grinning, you can feel the baby tugging on your sleeve wanting in on the attention you two are giving to each other. You pull him tight to your side without looking away from Din.

“We will raise warriors.”

Your smile goes mischievous as you look to the little green monster still vying for your attention.

“We will raise warriors,” you say gently and the baby looks at you -- probably not understanding a word you said but he smiles anyway.

Din’s own heart thuds in his chest and seems to swell at the same time, at the sight of the child smiling up at you and your own face split into an uncontainable grin right back at him. It really is that simple, just like that you are a clan of three.

His hands pull away from yours just as the baby topples himself into your lap and you reach out to right him so he doesn’t fall. He’s taken the helmet off many times -- to eat, to cut his hair, to shave and to finally be able to kiss you even if you were shrouded in darkness. But he almost can’t do it as he lifts his hands to the beskar and grips it, for so long it’s been forbidden but it's suddenly okay. The helmet feels heavy on his head and in his hands as he struggles to grapple with the fact that he doesn’t have to worry about breaking his oath. He can have both.

The baby gets his three fingers wrapped in your hair and starts pulling, which seems to be his new favorite thing to do besides putting everything he can get his hands on in his damn mouth.

“Maker,” you hiss, head ducking to relieve the pressure as you start to remove his hand. “We are having a moment here, you little terror. Din, could you please --”

You’re halted when you look up, almost startled by the face you see in front of you. It’s a shock in the first place that there is a face in front of you at all. It’s his profile, as he sets the helmet onto the overturned crate by the bed. His tan skin seems to glow in the lowlight of the halo lamp, he’s got a strong nose and jawline smattered with dark stubble. His hair is dark as well, mussed up from the helmet in a way that makes you want to reach out and run your fingers through it.

It occurs to you that you have run your fingers through his hair, as well as traced the shape of his nose with your fingers and kissed his chin. You weren’t sure what you expected after having done it so many times, but you know that he’s beyond whatever you could have dreamed of. When he turns to you and meets your gaze with soft brown eyes you can’t help but sharply exhale as your heart hammers against your rib cage.

You should say something. You should tell him he’s absolutely beautiful but he’s left you speechless.

He’s watching your face for a reaction, and he’s waiting for you to say something when the baby squeals. Both of you look down at him immediately, making sure he’s okay and he squeals again, hands outreached demanding Din hold him. It occurs to you that maybe the baby has seen his face before. They were, until just moments ago, a clan by themselves and you had joined up with them after all of that had been established. Din lowers his face and three fingered hands grab at his nose with delighted little coos.

You can’t help but give a little giggle, high pitched and somewhat flabbergasted, “I think he likes you better without the helmet.”

He looks up again with those amazing eyes and asks, “and what about you?”

You chew on your lip a moment trying to hide a smile, “not sure yet. Put it on again so I can compare.”

His eyebrows raise and he gives a breathy chuckle and smiles. It's a lovely thing, absolutely wonderful. You reach out and place a hand on his cheek and he leans into the touch sighing a little. He kisses your palm and your heart is overflowing. The baby is pressed between you as you shift forward, pressing your lips onto his. You’ve kissed many times but this is your first as husband and wife -- which is a title that still doesn’t feel real when you consider it in your head. It’s a soft kiss, and he’s a little overwhelmed by how gently you press your lips against his. It’s interrupted by a tiny hand on your face, the baby unable to keep from excitedly grabbing at the two of you and when you break away he’s smiling again. You press your forehead to his.

It’s like this for a few hours, since the little monster needs to be fed and properly tired out. You catch yourself staring as he removes the rest of the armor. You stare a lot, actually. He presents the baby’s favorite toy -- the round piece of a control lever from the Razor Crest -- and you watch when he sits down to watch it roll around as the kid chases it. You can’t help but stare when all three of you eat together for the first time ever. It’s all simultaneously familiar and incredibly foreign.

You knew he was real underneath all the beskar, had felt it for yourself, but it's surreal to look over and see his eyes looking into your own. He watches you a lot too, and you wonder if he’s done that under the helmet all this time. Now you can’t help but notice it and he seems to be just as flummoxed by it as you are since he almost bashfully looks away everytime you catch him.

After a meal and running around the little room for a while, the baby finally yawns and plops himself into your lap. This is somewhat of a routine now too, the moment he’s ready for bed he just finds either you or Din and wants to be held until he falls asleep. You wrap him up in blankets again and hold him close. Neither of you talk until the baby’s big eyes flutter close and his breathing evens out. Din removes his helmet from the overturned crate so you can use it as a makeshift crib since you forgot the pram on the Razor Crest.

Now that he’s asleep and the two of you are alone, it’s a little tense. It feels like you’ve been playing house the entire night and now comes the reality of you two alone without the security blanket that is the dark. He’s watching you and not even trying to hide it anymore, and you are pretending not to notice. Should you go to him? Was he waiting for you to say it was okay?

To your surprise he talks first, “we can turn off the lights...if...if it makes you more comfortable.”

“No, fuck that,” you look him in the eye because you can, and you’re not about to let him take that away from you. But then you remember this might be too much for him. He was a child the last time anyone saw him without a helmet. It’s probably a lot to take in. “Unless that’s what you want.”

He’s across the room in only a few strides, kneeling on the bed and you scramble to face him because he moves so damn fast sometimes you feel like you can’t keep up. He grabs your face and you watch as his eyes flit to your lips, which are parted slightly and waiting. His eyes aren’t quite as soft anymore, now he looks hungry and you damn near shiver, your hair raising from the intensity of that look.

“Fuck that.”

He barely finishes saying it before he’s on you. The soft and sweet kisses are gone and as much as you hate to close your eyes when he's right there for you to take in, you almost have to with the force of the way he kisses you. He’s desperate to taste you and relentless about it. His tongue slides along yours, and it’s not a new sensation at all and that comforts you, puts you a little more at ease. This isn’t really that different.

Din tugs roughly at your top, and you have to break away to let him pull it over your head so he doesn’t rip it. Before he can hone in on your breasts you grab the hem of the black shirt he always wears and slip it off of him as well. You’ve barely thrown it aside before he’s pushing you onto your back, hurriedly taking off your boots and socks for you, they seem to thud so loudly as they land on the ground when he carelessly discards them. His hands tug at the waistband of your pants and you lift your hips to help as much as you can and after he throws them over his shoulder he just... looks at you.

And you can’t move because you're watching his eyes rove over your body, taking in the way his jaw is a little slack and his eyebrows are furrowing together just a bit. They dart back up to your face and he hasn’t even touched you but you’re so wet already. Seeing him look at you for the first time is almost overwhelming with what it seems to do to your body. You push yourself up and tug at his pants -- he has to stand so you can pull them down his strong legs and you get to your knees on the bed while he removes the rest of his clothing.

His cock springs free, thick and swollen, when he stands and you kneel on the bed you seem to be at the perfect position to easily slip your mouth onto him. You can tell he wants to move you, to position you however he likes but you have to know what his face looks like while you have him in your mouth -- so you grab him at the base and he goes still. Your eyes never leave his as you press a kiss to the leaking tip, your tongue slipping out to gather up pre-cum and he sucks in a broken breath at the sight of it. You slide as much of him as you can into your mouth he grunts and takes a fistful of your hair. As you swirl your tongue around him his hips stutter, pressing far enough that you almost gag.

You can feel how wet you are while you watch him, spurred on by all the little changes in his facial expression that tell you just how much he loves this. Din uses his grip in your hair to shallowly thrust himself into your mouth, his eyes shut as he throws his head back. You can see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows down a groan, see his jaw clench tight as he refrains from thrusting any further into your mouth. Your hand trails between your thighs and you can’t help but slide your fingers through the slick wetness, allowing yourself to draw tight circles around your clit. It’s just so fucking hot to watch him fall apart in your mouth and you need some kind of relief.

He lowers his head to look again, and the movement of your hand between your legs catches his attention. “Are you playing with...fuck, stop, stop,” he pulls your head away from him immediately.

He’s throbbing there in your face, his cock giving not so subtle twitches and you pull against his hand in your hair to get him in your mouth again, whining as you rub at your clit.

He just says, “no,” and tugs at your hair harder.

With that same speed that sometimes baffles you he lets go of your hair and is climbing onto the bed, arm wrapping around your waist to pull you onto your back again. He puts his weight on one arm next to your head, the other diving to grab your wrist and pull the fingers you had between your legs to his lips. It’s like a volt of electricity goes through you as his tongue wraps around them and you think you might die if he doesn’t fucking touch you.

“Please, please, Din,” you whine.

He spends a long time at your breasts, ducking his head to suck on the soft skin. Your fingers tangle into his hair now, as you pulse with need and he is taking his time running his hands over your tummy, over your hips and taking in how you gasp as he gets closer to where you need him. He’s pulling you apart slowly, revelling in the softness of your skin and how your breath hitches when he brushes over somewhere sensitive. Your legs open further when his fingertips dance over your thighs and you almost forget that you can open your eyes. Din’s right there in the low light and you can watch while he slowly slides two fingers along your soaked cunt.

“So wet,” he murmurs against your skin.

“Yeah -- fuck --” you gasp as he starts to lazily drag his finger around your clit, “for you.”

That warrants a reward, it seems, as he picks up his pace very quickly pulling you towards release and it feels all the more intense because you get to watch. The pressure picks up, the speed is overwhelming and his teeth clamp around your nipple just enough to hurt. You choke on air, hips spasming and he doesn’t let up. Thank the stars, because you’re nearly there and you want to watch every moment of it but it’s so much you can’t help but shut your eyes as you cum all over his hand. He slips two fingers inside of you, and grunts as he feels your walls flutter around them -- making sure his palm still grinds into your clit so he can drag it out as long as he can.

After you’ve come down a little bit he pushes himself back to settle on his knees between your legs, pulling you close enough that your ass rests on his thighs. He pumps his cock a few times with the same hand that’s covered in your slick, and he practically growls before lining himself up. You watch his face as he presses into you, inch by incredible inch, his face screws up a little bit like it takes all of him to not just slam into you. You whine at the way he stretches you even though it’s familiar, you somehow can never seem to actually get used to how good he feels inside of you. The stretch always seems to start out feeling like maybe he’s too big and it’ll be too much, but it always makes your whole body tingle. His eyes snap open at the sound you make and he pushes slowly, as far into your pussy as he can. Your hands reach to grip at his thighs, nails digging in a little bit.

“You’re holding back,” you gasp, “don’t.”

Din pulls back and thrusts again with so much force that you see fucking stars. His hands grip your hips hard enough that you think they might leave bruises but that somehow only makes your cunt clench around him as you try not to scream. Over and over and over again without any kind of reprieve, you can’t escape the sensations. The bed is making a subtle creaking sound. If your mind wasn’t totally focused on the pull of his cock sliding out of you and the harsh way he fucking pushes back in again you would be worried about the integrity of the craftsmanship. But at the moment you can’t think of that, can’t even think of your name, only him, right there in front of your with his eyes focused on you like you’re the only thing in the fucking galaxy.

Your hips roll to meet his thrusts as best you can and you think back to all the times you’ve done this in the dark. Think about the night you said yes, when he damn near begged you to stay with him. When he made you cum just from the thought of having his children. It makes you whine again, and you gasp for air when he hits a spot in you that makes your back arch.

“We will raise warriors,” you breathe out, the vow ringing in your head over and over again.

His hips still after another harsh thrust and through heaving breaths he just asks, “what?” Like he isn’t sure he heard you correctly.

You lick your lips and roll your hips against his grip on you, not getting the friction you need but doing enough to make him grunt a little bit. “We will...raise warriors.” You repeat it louder and give a breathless, short laugh at the way he swallows hard and searches your face with a subtle and discerning frown.

He lets go of your hips and lunges forward so you are chest to chest, and your legs open as wide as they can. The small room is getting hotter and hotter and there’s a sheen of sweat that makes him absolutely glow in the warm light. His mouth on yours is harsh and demanding and when he starts to thrust again, it’s just as rough every time his hips meet yours. With your bodies this close there’s enough friction on your clit to make you cry out, white heat starting at the base of your spine. You bite your lip to try and keep quiet.

“That what you want?” He asks, “want me to fill you up? Give you a little warrior?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you’re begging and your whole body feels like it’s lighting up at the thought of it.

You loosely wrap your legs around his hips, not trying to ruin the fantastic pace he’s setting but also wanting him as close as you can get him. He hisses as your nails dig into his back, clawing at the skin just to find something to anchor you to this planet. It’s not so different from fucking in the dark, not when it comes down to technicalities but you’re never letting him turn the lights out again. There’s so many things you still want to see, want to watch him react to. You’re climbing up to the precipice again, shutting your eyes against the intensity of the feeling.

“Look at me,” he grunts, gripping your face and holding it so when you do open your eyes, his own bore into yours, “look at me while a fuck a baby into you.”

“Fuck,” it’s a pitiful whimper, but it's all you can say as you cum.

It feels like something snaps in you so hard the shockwaves roll through your body. Each wave hits rolls through you so relentlessly that you can feel it all the way down to your curling toes, moaning as the muscles of your pussy grip at the delicious thickness of his cock.

He makes a sound like you just punched him in the gut and thrusts so hard the bed fucking moves. If it weren’t for his vice grip on you then you’re sure you would have been flung off the bed at the force of it. You can’t seem to control the volume at which you cry with each inward push and he’s repeating your name over and over again before he chokes on it and his hips snap forward of their own accord as he cums. You can feel him emptying his balls into you, hot and wet, and your cunt seems to greedily beg for it everytime your muscles clench around him

Din stays there on top of you as you both catch your breath. His body is a heavy but welcome weight as you just tighten your arms around him, thighs shaking as you try to wrap them tighter around his hips as well. He kisses your neck in between gasps for air and you're both hot and sticky but you need him to stay right there. You are wondering if you should say what you’re thinking, that you love him and you’re so happy. You actually fucking giggle like a giddy idiot and you’re fucking married now so why the hell not?

You open your mouth to say it when a shrill cry echoes throughout the small room. Both of you scramble to peek over the edge into the little crate where the child is crying -- big, heavy tears gathering in his eyes as he struggles to get out of the blankets.

“I take it back,” you breathe, “no more little warriors.”

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian imagine #star wars imagine #olly writes

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