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#THE LIVING WATERS OF MANDALORE

afootnoteinyourhappiness · 1 year

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what the hell are the Living Waters of Mandalore made of????? Homie sank faster than a box of rocks. I know he is heavy, but dear lord he was at the bottom fast. Living Waters, more like Ya Gonna Drown You Idiot Waters

#listen i'm too tired to actually come up with a wise joke #the mandalorian #the mandalorian season 3 #mando season 3 #the mandalorian s3 #the mandalorian season 3 spoilers #mando season 3 spoilers #din djarin #dd #mando #this tin man is dumb #grogu #the living waters of mandalore #mandalore #star wars #sw #sam watches the mandalorian

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wanderingjedi77 · 1 year

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Redemption (Bo Katan x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You go to the mines of Mandalore to redeem yourself of your transgressions, to help you on the path of the creed. Bo comes to your rescue. Requested by Anon who I hope likes it. I did a little extra for you.

The mines of Mandalore.

The stories you had read said that one could be redeemed in the living waters, and that it would make you worthy of the creed. You weren't sure exactly if it was true, but you weren't here for yourself. You were here because you wanted to redeem yourself, to be worthy of taking the creed. You wanted to show your girlfriend, Bo-Katan of House Kryze, that you were worthy of her.

Coming here alone? That might not have been your brightest idea.

You had a managed to avoid too many encounters, and fought your way through the ruins of Sundari until you found the road that led you to the mines. It was cold, dark and damp. But you were glad you leave the ghosts of Sundari behind, the bodies of a city ruined, a home forgotten.

You let out a slow breath, and eyed the waters.You hoped that the droid had managed to keep your secret at least, and you could come back to Bo proud.

On Kelevala though, unbeknown to you, Bo-Katan was losing her mind. She had sought you out to see if you wanted to have a night to yourselves, and had found you missing. You hadn't said anything about leaving, and you usually wouldn't go anywhere without at least letting her know. She looked all over the palace and had no idea where you were.

When she sought out her iron heart or Ka'rta droid, the one the managed your affairs, she was met with indifference.

"Tell me where she is!" Bo demanded angrily.

"I am afraid that Lady y/n is gone."

"Where! Tell me or I'll melt you down and use you as repair parts for my ship!" Bo yelled at them. The Ka'rta paused, as if it was going through a million reasons why they shouldn't tell her. But the Iron heart did not want to become spare parts.

"Lady y/n has gone to Mandalore.' The droid answers, not wanting to lie any further. Bo lets go of them and growls,

"What do you mean she's gone to Mandalore?" Bo shouts at her droid.

"She left a few hours ago Princess. She asked me not to tell you and that she would come back as a daughter of Mandalore. She wanted to do this for you."

Bo feels a flash of anger go through her, "I'm going after y/n." She puts on her helmet and marches to her ship. "Stay here and guard the castle." Bo straps herself in and takes off, trying to stop herself from shaking. If she didn't get to y/n soon, she wouldn't have the love of her life left, her girlfriend.

She wouldn't be able to tell you how much she loved you, instead of showing you.

Bo gripped the controls tighter and prayed you were okay-

By the time she arrived on Mandalore and found you, you were already at the mines of Mandalore, and she ran towards you as fast as she could, knowing the way better then most, not wanting you to risk your life, to do something so dangerous.

She was terrified.

Bo doesn't have any time to call your name as you walk towards the water, doesn't have time to warn you that the ledge is destroyed before you the dark abyss takes you-

You scream as you sink like a rock; echoing off the mines walls. You mouth fills with water and you try to swim to the surface, but the water is cold and deep; and you keep going down. You try to push against the darkness again, and something grabs you around the middle and starts propelling you up until it stops suddenly, as if frightened by something and then shoots you out of the water.

You, and the mysterious rescuer land on the ground with a heavy thud and you start to choke up water, and curl up; breathing hard. You don't register at first that it's Bo who helps you sit and pulls you against her until your wrapping your arms around her and breathing in her familiar scent.

"You're okay y/n." Bo says, and she rubs circles into your back as you calm down.

"Bo..." You gasp out and cough, before you relax enough to look at her. Your cold; force why is it so cold here?and start to shiver. Bo reaches into a bag nearby and pulls out a robe; her robe, you realise, that she wears when she leaves on missions to colder places and wraps it around you tightly. You meet her gaze and see her give you a hard look.

She's angry.

"What the hell were you thinking coming here by yourself?" Bo says furiously.

"I was trying to atone for my transgressions." You reply, eyes prickling with tears. "So I could become a Mandalorian."

Bo looks startled. "You...what?"

"It's silly, but I wanted to make sure I was the right woman for you." You tremble a bit, thinking about some of the history books Bo had lying around her castle that talked about the creed.

"Don't tell me you believe in that." Bo asks, she rubs your arms with her hands, trying to warm you up.

"I believe in you." You explain. "You deserve someone who isn't weighed down by their past."

Bo pauses. "You're so silly y/n." She shakes her head. "I don't care if your a Mandalorian or not, I just want you to be mine." Bo tilts her head as you reach up and runs your fingers through her hair, damp and tossed.

"Oh." You reply, quietly. You smile at her and she sighs and smiles back.

"Please promise me you won't do anything like that again?" Bo says, and you nod. "A verbal answer y/n."

"Yes Bo. I promise you. I won't come here alone again, or try to become a Mandalorian without you there." You answer, and Bo kisses you; putting her hand on the back of your neck to draw you in further. She leaned her forehead against your when you parted, and you tilted your head, curious. She had a funny look in her eyes, like she couldn't believe what she was looking at.

"What is it?"

"I saw...I don't know what I saw down there." Bo shakes her head. "I think it was the mythosaur."

You laugh. "Okay?" You giggle. "You don't believe in that stuff anyway."

Bo gives you a look and you pause in your teasing,

"What? I wasn't awake Bo." You answer.

"I know it's just...it bothered me." Bo shakes her head, thoughtful. "I don't know what it means.." When she looks at you next she stands up and pulls you with her. You look up at Bo with a small smile.

"Maybe it's a good sign?" You offer, and Bo hesitates, just for a fraction of a second. You see a flicker a worried expression across her face, like she needs to tell you something-

"I love you." Bo tells you and you feel your heart skip. She's never told you that before, her actions yes, but this was new. You opened your mouth and looked stunned for a moment before speaking.

"What?"

"I said I love you-" Bo makes a funny sound, surprised when you kiss her desperately. She grins at you when you part,

"y/n?"

"I love you too Bo." You tell her, and as she draws you in her arms again, the mines seem a little less dark, and a little less lonely.

#bo katan x reader #bo katan kryze #bo katan request #living waters of mandalore #mines of mandalore #reader insert #you almost drown #bo comes to your rescue #star wars #star wars the mandalorian season 3 #star wars mandalorian #star wars the mandalorian #iron heart droids #sundari #kelevala #I really went with this #mythosaur hints #bo saw it

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agentscamander-romanoff · 1 year

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I think it really interesting thing about Din's redemtion is was it really redemption or not? To be redeemed you need to actually regret what you've done. Did Din really felt sorry abou what he has done or he simply tried to return to the covert? If Din was in the same position as in season 2 finale,when he had to say goodbye to Grogu,would he take off his helmet again?

#I hope season 3 would explore this question #star wars #the mandalorian #din djarin #mando #redemption #mines of mandalore #the living waters #the mandalorian covert #grogu #grogu djarin #baby yoda

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martianbugsbunny · 1 year

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We Are Mandalorians: Our Love Must Be Forged (An AxePaz Fic)—Chapter 5

Howdy! In celebration of my graduation from college, you get to have Chapter 5 of this fic a day early!!! This chapter is longer, and I love it, so enjoy!

The jetpack was completely out of fuel. Axe groaned, with equal parts frustration at his supplies and physical exhaustion. Paz was heavy, and he remained unresponsive, making him about as helpful to Axe’s efforts as a crate of stew meat would be. Axe’s shoulder was sore, and his entire body was starting to feel the low from loss of adrenaline.

Still, he dragged Paz to the edge of the water and slowly began to wade in, feeling for the bottom of each step before putting his foot down. He’d heard what had happened when Din Djarin came to bathe in these waters; falling in and pulling Paz into the depths with him would be incredibly counterintuitive.

Some Children of the Watch claimed that the spirit of Mandalore the Great had permeated these waters, and that was why they were living waters. Axe had never put much stock in the myths of the other sects, but Paz had probably grown up hearing and believing in that legend, and if it was true, then perhaps Mandalore the Great would be willing to breathe new life into his fallen son.

“I bathe you in the living waters of Mandalore,” Axe said, his voice echoing off the cavern walls before dissipating into the darkness. He laid Paz flat across one of the higher steps, so that his body was submerged in an inch or two of water. He scooped some of it up in his hands and poured it across Paz’s chestplate. “I invite you back into the land of the living.”

The spirit of Mandalore the Great had to be addressed with respect. Axe was actually quite good with the ritual words of Mandalorian customs, but he hadn’t spoken any in a long time. The longer he was a Nite Owl, and the more poisoned his thoughts of the Watch had become, the less he had associated with the private rites that had once governed his life; the simple prayers to the ancestors for success in battle, the nightly chants of gratitude. Those were things the Children of the Watch were better known for observing, though the number of Nite Owls who also observed them, or who at least had at one point, were not as low as general conception suggested.

For a long moment, the sound of the water lapping against the steps was the only noise in the cavern. Axe stared at Paz, waiting for any small sign of life.

Just when he was starting to feel disappointment creep in, Paz turned his head, his breathing slightly louder. Axe could feel, although he couldn’t see, Paz’s eyes roving over his face. “You saved me,” he said, and it sounded very much like a question. “You came back.”

“Yes, well….”

“Why didn’t you go after the others?” Paz asked between coughs. Exhaling was fine, but inhaling seemed to cause him pain; he tensed almost his entire body when he did it.

“Among them, I’m one Mandalorian of thirty. There’s little I could do for them without following your example—and to be honest with you, I don’t want to die down here.”

“I owe you a debt,” Paz said. “I will fight by your side until it is repaid.”

Axe sighed, squeezing his hands together to wring some of the water out of his gloves. “I hate to break it to you, but we’re stuck together for the time being debt or no debt. I don’t know where the others are, but if you had to take the sacrifice play they can’t help us anyway.”

“You’re right about that. They barely escaped the fight; they might have been caught after I….” Paz flicked his hand as though trying to push the thought away. “If they got captured after that, I’ll never forgive them,” he said.

Axe laughed weakly. “I’m sure you wouldn’t,” he agreed. “If you’re feeling able, we should get moving. I don’t know if we were tracked, but I don’t want to lead Imperials to this place. They don’t deserve to set foot here.”

It took Paz a minute or two to get up from the ground. He refused help, although when they started walking, he didn’t seem too irritated that Axe was sticking close by his side, just in case. “Why are you here alone?” Paz asked, after a moment of silent walking. “You were supposed to be bringing reinforcements for the main recon party.”

“There are no reinforcements coming,” Axe said bitterly. “The ships were gone. Their signal was still active; I got high enough to pick it up, but it’s too long range for me to tell where they went.”

“How did you find me?”

“All these questions,” Axe grumbled. “You’re starting to sound like a foundling.”

Paz snorted, turning to look directly at Axe. “Woves. The others would be easier to locate, just by sheer numbers. Beskar signature, life signs, whatever. How come you found me and not them?”

“I was actually trying to find them—through you, but how could I know you stayed behind?” Axe scolded himself for being so avoidant of the truth. He was a Mandalorian with nerves of beskar, but he was acting like a fool. “I followed the tracker on my knife,” he said.

Paz’s hand went to the hilt of it, holstered in his gauntlet. “Clever,” he said.

It took a bit for Axe to realize Paz wasn’t surprised that he had Axe’s vibroblade. When he did, he grabbed Paz by the elbow, coming to a standstill. Paz gave a full-body shudder, and Axe pulled his hand away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—I didn’t know you had a thing about touch—”

“It’s not that.” So the injuries hadn’t been completely healed. Well, that was to be expected.

“So you knew the whole time you didn’t have your knife?” Axe went on, refusing to lose his train of thought. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” Paz countered. “And if you noticed we swapped, why shouldn’t I?”

Axe almost smiled, then remembered he wasn’t wearing his helmet. If he couldn’t see whether or not Paz was smiling, then he surely wasn’t going to give anything away himself. “It’s just—a lot of Mandalorians are incredibly possessive about weapons,” he said. “Myself included.”

“You fight well, for a Nite Owl. Bringing your blade into battle with me seemed right, somehow. And I supposed when you said nothing to me, you were also pleased with the trade.”

Now he did grin. “Pleased?” he repeated. “I didn’t know you cared.”

He was almost certain Paz was rolling his eyes. “You are a fine warrior, Axe Woves, and what’s more I’m sure you know it. There’s no need to gloat.”

For once, Axe was glad Paz could see his face: he didn’t want Paz to miss his self-assured grin. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he said teasingly. “I saw what you did to those Imperials back there.” His tone became more serious. “That was very noble of you, Paz. You saved a lot of people. If any debts are owed, they are owed to you.”

#Paz Vizsla #axe woves #paxe #axepaz #axe x paz #paz x axe #the Mandalorian #mandalorian season 3 #rivals to lovers #fix it #nite owls #children of the watch #mandalore #the living waters #fic #martianbugsbunny writes fic #martianbugsbunny graduates college!#woo-hoo!

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merrysithmas · 1 year

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ill never get over how that mythosaur godzilla loch ness mf was just like chillin in that miles deep pond for all of mandalores history and like no one noticed lol

#obviously they have no Nessie truthers on mandalore #loch ness #the mandalorian #i feel like no one did a TV special on the Secrets of the Living Waters for discovery channel #no science literacy #they do give off a antivaxxer vibe lmao

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heyclickadee · 1 year

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I’ve been arguing with my brother-in-law that Din Djarin isn’t a himbo, because hey! He knows multiple languages, he’s a pretty good diplomat, he was just raised under a rock and has no knowledge of the star war. But you know what? I take it back. Din IS a himbo. He’s the himboest bo to ever himb.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the shiniest himbo in the galaxy #head empty heart too full of love for his small green son #just gonna waltz into the living waters of Mandalore wearing fifty pounds of armor #like a dumbass #a sweet beautiful dumbass

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atlasdotnet · 1 year

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I just watched the latest episode of the Mandalorian, and was definetly dissapointed in the fact that Din didnt take his armour off to bathe in the dirty ass sewer water

#mando #mandalorian #the mandalorian #the mines of mandalore #the mandalorian s3 #mando and grogu #living waters #mandalore #thoughts

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 2 years

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Trying to make the brain understand that until the end of year I am only allowed to work on the two Christmas fics and not on various new fic ideas that just come out of nowhere.

#like stuck in traffic on a work trip with the handsome new fbi against Marcus pike #or getting a very desperate call after midnight from dieter bravo asking you to come untie him from his bed after a ONS #or the mermaids in the living waters of mandalore #or another bassist Marcus Pike AU

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surewhynnot · 1 year

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How people thought din would bathe in the living waters of mandalore:

What actually happened:

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers

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beskarandblasters · 11 months

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breeding kink with din? I know that man would be feral and on his knees my brain goes brr when I think about it

Carry My Warriors

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Summary: After getting married and settling into your new home on Nevarro, Din discovers he has a new kink.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), established relationship, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, breeding kink, creampie, some nipple play, slight lactation kink if you squint, use of Mando’a words (cyar’ika = sweetheart, mesh’la = beautiful, riduur = spouse), no use of y/n

You’re just settling into your new home with Din on Nevarro. The past few days have been a blur. The Mandalorians reclaimed Mandalore and you were absolutely sure that’s where Din wanted to settle down with you and Grogu. But shortly after your wedding ceremony Din told you that the three of you were leaving for Nevarro.

“But… why? You just reclaimed Mandalore… Isn’t this where you wanted to live? you asked, as he prepared the Razor Crest for takeoff.

“At one point yes but now that we’re a family… I think we should live elsewhere… Karga’s got a place for us there.”

“Really?” you asked, in disbelief that you’re going to have an actual place to call home with Din.

“Yes, cyar’ika,” he said, turning around and grabbing your hands, “A place for us to be a real family.”

You nodded and felt the happy tears spring in your eyes. He squeezed your hands and went back to preparing the ship. You scooped Grogu into your arms and leaned back in your chair, watching Mandalore get smaller underneath you as you left. You left the treacherous atmosphere and entered space, before Din made the jump to lightspeed. You closed your eyes and tried to imagine your new life together on Nevarro. Your stoic tin man could be a real softie sometimes.

That was several days ago. You’ve been spending your first few days back on Nevarro settling into your new home; a small house on the outskirts of town. Complete with a pond full of frogs in the front for Grogu. You’re in yours and Din’s bedroom (still a strange concept to you; a real bedroom for the two of you) decorating when you feel Din’s presence behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and your neck flush against his chest.

See, Din has a small problem that he hasn’t told you about yet… Becoming your riduur and this new, domestic life on Nevarro unlocked something within him. And realized he wants nothing more than you on your back, legs spread open for him with his cock buried in your cunt, pumping you full of his cum.

You’ll be doing dishes in the kitchen, hips swaying as you hum yourself. And Din will watch you and think about how he could grab your hips, bend you over the sink and take you right there. Or you’ll be on the couch, in your pajamas, reading something on your holo-pad. He’ll notice the way your soft thighs are pressed against each other in your pajama shorts.

But the worst is when you hop in the refresher together and he’ll see the way the water beads up on your tits and the way you lather them up with soap. His mind goes elsewhere and he thinks about them full of milk and how sore you’ll be and how you’ll need help relieving the tension and oh Maker, he’s got it bad.

These are the kinds of things he thinks about while he strokes his cock when he’s alone in the refresher or next to you in bed after you’ve fallen asleep. He’s hesitant to tell you about his new fantasy because he’s not sure how you’ll react. You’ve never talked in depth about the possibility of having kids together. But now that you have a stable place to live it’s all he can think about; living a quiet life with you and watching you grow round with his child. It’s all he wants. And you find out about it by accident.

You’re on your back, thighs spread apart and legs hooked over Din’s shoulders. His helmet is off and you’re looking deep into each other’s eyes. He tears them away for a second to gaze down at your tits which are bouncing deliciously with each of his thrusts and imagines them full of milk. And he’s gone, bursting his load into you in complete bliss.

“Kriff, Din,” you gasp.

He’s pulled out of his daze. “Hmm, what is it, cyar’ika?”

“You came inside me! I don’t have an implant, remember?”

“Oh… sorry,” he says, sheepishly.

“It’s alright. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you sigh.

He kisses you and whispers another apology against your lips. You can’t stay mad at him for too long.

After your little afternoon delight, you decide to get dinner started. Grogu’s down for a nap. You’re standing at the kitchen counter cutting vegetables, feeling Din’s release slowly seep out of you. And to be honest… you don’t hate the feeling.

Din went into town to grab a few more things for dinner. He spent the rest of the afternoon replaying that moment in his head; the moment he came inside you for the first time. And now he doesn’t think he could go without that feeling. He arrives home, sees you at the kitchen counter and his eyes immediately gravitate towards your waist. He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. You stop cutting vegetables and lean into his touch.

“I have to tell you something,” he says softly.

“What is it?” you ask, turning to face him and gazing up into his visor.

“...I want a baby with you, cyar’ika.”

Your mouth falls open. This is so sudden. And you’ve never talked about kids of your own before.

“Oh, Din. I don’t… I don’t know,” you say, truly confused.

“Please, cyar’ika,” Din begs, falling to his knees. He rests the bottom of his helmet against your thigh, visor peering up at you with what you can imagine are the most pleading eyes under the helmet. One of his hands caresses your thigh and you sigh.

“You’ll look so pretty carrying my warriors.”

“Is this really what you want?”

“More than anything.”

“Okay,” you nod.

He couldn’t drag you to the bedroom fast enough. He pulls you from the kitchen and into your bedroom. He pushes you down on the bed gently and starts pulling off your pants.

“What about dinner?” you ask.

“We can eat later,” he says hastily, removing his armor piece by piece.

You giggle and sit up to take off your shirt. You hear the hiss of the modulator and look over at him, never getting enough of the sight of his face. He looks over at you with the hungriest expression on his face while he slips off his flight suit. You lay down on your back and Din hovers over you, bringing his hand to the inside of your thigh, trailing it up to your cunt. You spread your legs for him and let him stroke your entrance gently.

“I’m gonna take good care of you, cyar’ika,” he purrs.

You moan in response as brings his head to your cunt, licking a slow stripe up it. Your hands find his hair and tug on it a little, begging for more. He swirls his tongue around your clit in a rhythmic motion. He hums into you, sending vibrations through your core. He hooks his arms around your thighs and brings you closer against his face. You moan at the new and more intense sensation. You feel your core tightening in anticipation of a big release. With one last lap of his tongue you’re coming against his face, soaking the lower half of it completely. Pleasure washes over you in erratic waves as you ride out your high. Din laps up every last drop of your fluids before commenting on how good you taste.

“You taste so good, mesh’la,” he murmurs before bringing his face by yours. He kisses you as he looks gathers your wetness in his hand, spreading it on his cock. He gives it a few strokes before aligning himself with your entrance. He enters you slowly and sighs at the sensation of your warm, wet cunt enveloping his cock. You hold your breath as he stretches your walls. He buries himself at the hilt, the head of his cock rubbing against your cervix. You exhale and relax as you expand to his size, feeling completely full. He places your legs on his shoulders and leans forward, folding you in half into a mating press. You moan at the deeper angle of his cock and feel tears spring in your eyes.

“It’s so big, Din,” you whine.

“Yeah, you like that, mesh’la? Want me to fuck a baby into you just like this?”

You moan in response, too cock drunk to form complete sentences. He chuckles and picks up the pace, driving his length into you with more force. He notices your tits bounce with each slam of his hips and reaches to suck on one of them, releasing your nipple with a loud pop. He moves to your other nipple and does the same thing; lick and suck at it until it becomes a stiff peak in his mouth. He pulls his head back and he gazes down at you with loving eyes, bringing one hand to the side your face and caressing your cheek. You feel yourself arrive at the brink of orgasm, core tightening as the pleasure stirs in your stomach. You come undone around him, moaning loudly as your orgasm overtakes you. Your cunt clenches him like a vice bringing him to the edge, too. He fucks you through your release which prolongs it further but he feels his balls tighten and he knows he’s about to cum.

“Cum in me, Din. Fill me up,” you pant.

Those words pull his orgasm from him in an instant, coating your insides with his cum. The tip of his cock is tucked into your cervix, pulsating against it. He comes with a loud groan and closes his eyes in bliss before pumping into you with a few more strokes until he goes soft. He stays inside you, keeping you plugged with his cum. He kisses you and whispers, “Thank you, cyar’ika. I’ll take such good care of you when you’re carrying my warrior.”

You kiss him back and whisper, “I know you will, Din.”

You stay there like that for a while with him still inside you until you hear Grogu waking up from his nap and fussing in his room. He pulls out of you reluctantly and starts to get dressed. You go to get dressed, too, wanting to resume dinner but he stops you.

“Rest, riduur. I’ll take care of everything.”

“Okay,” you sigh.

Sure he wants you to rest… but you’re also certain that he wants you to lay down to ensure all of his cum stays inside you. You get the feeling that you’re not going to be leaving this bed for a long time, not until he’s absolutely sure his seed has taken and you’re carrying his baby. You’re not complaining though.

End note: This request has been sitting in my inbox for two months now, I am the worst 🫣

Want to be notified when I post a new fic? Follow @beskarandblastersfics and turn on post notifications!

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trashcora · 1 year

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I am going to Mandalore so that I may bathe drown in the Living Waters and be forgiven of my transgressions.

THE MANDALORIAN | Chapter 18: The Mines of Mandalore +

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wheresarizona · 1 year

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Creed

summary: Upon meeting Bo-Katan Kryze and discovering there are other Mandalorians out in the galaxy who remove their helmets, Din Djarin is suddenly questioning his beliefs and unable to stop from wondering what you, his wife, look like under your own helm.

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Soft Din Djarin, established relationship, age gap (10 years), alternating pov, unprotected p in v, creampie, BREEDING KINK, oral sex (f receiving), first kiss, dirty talk, praise kink, domestic fluff, fluff, removing helmets for the first time, religious guilt, did I mention breeding kink? Din being so in love he wants to break the Creed, good parent Din Djarin)

pairing: Din Djarin/f!Mandalorian reader (from the Tribe with zero physical descriptions)

word count: 6.2k

a/n: It’s called Creed, but Breed also works. Lmaooo @what-muses sent in the prompt for Din hearing reader singing to Grogu, and I am so insanely sorry for this not being super wholesome. I just know in my heart Din would hear the woman he loves singing to their kid, and he’d want more children. 😭😭😭 I legit wrote 95% of this while either sick or in the ER to make myself feel better. Takes place during season 2. Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul for betaing this.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to hear what you thought of it!

Masterlist

He knows his own face—the color of his eyes, the curve of his nose, the crease between his eyebrows, the patchy facial hair. He knows the shape of his lips, the dimple in his cheek, and the lines that show his age. He’s the only person who can take in all of these details and know they belong to him, something secret, sacred—the Way of the Mandalore means no other living being can see him without his helmet. It also means you’ve never seen his face, but that’s never been an issue since you also follow the Creed.

Staring at his reflection in the ‘fresher mirror, his naked body clean from the sonic shower, he slowly moves the razor over the skin of his cheek, wondering briefly what you look like under your purple helm.

Pausing, his eyebrows furrow, realizing the thought has never once crossed his mind—it wasn’t something he ever would have wondered before because it’s never been important. The two of you had your beliefs and followed them, not caring about what was beneath the beskar, all that mattered was you loved each other.

You’ve been together since he’d saved the kid from the Client, you leaving Nevarro with him, your relationship shifting as time went on—the two of you keeping the child safe and falling in love in the process.

Then on your quest to reunite the small boy with his kind, you’d met the other Mandalorians, discovering there were many out across the galaxy who didn’t follow the Creed or the ways of old. They believed you could be a Mandalorian and remove your helmet and that your tribe was a cult.

Continuing shaving, he rinses the razor blade under water before sliding it along his other cheek. A lot of people preferred using depil cream to remove their facial hair, but Din liked the precision of the razor over the viscous liquid.

It was overwhelming hearing all that Bo-Katan had said and having this new knowledge, making him wonder what it truly meant to be a Mandalorian.

Could he really put the helmet back on once he took it off in front of another?

With the location of a Jedi and your time with your foundling running out, it was important he was present to witness your union, both knowing you were going to spend the rest of your days together by each other’s sides. Din and you exchanged your vows, committing to one another for life in the cockpit of the Razor Crest with your child in attendance and the bright streaking stars of hyperspace flying by.

His face is mostly shaved, leaving hair on his chin and above his lips, now using a small pair of scissors to trim his mustache.

It doesn’t matter to him that no one else gets to see how he looks. He’s still particular in how he likes his facial hair, unable to stand too much of it under his helmet, keeping the hair on his head cropped short for comfort.

It makes him wonder if you have preferences as he shapes his mustache.

How long is your hair? What color is it? What color are your eyes? What does your smile look like? What will your children look like?

His hand stops, his eyes widening.

Gulping hard, that’s another thought that’s never crossed his mind. He knows you’re going to have children together. It’s something you’ve discussed, but not once has he thought of their looks. Things like that didn’t matter to Mandalorians, who spend their lives covered head to toe in armor. He wonders if he’d be able to pick out the pieces of you in them to get a glimpse of what the woman he loves looks like—he wants to know.

Why is he stuck on this?

It’s not the Way.

Din sighs, finishing what he’s doing.

The scissors get put back into his shaving kit, cleaning the sink of his hair clippings, happy you got a room at the inn here on Nevarro while the Crest is being repaired. The two of you are planning to help Greef and Cara with a small matter in the morning in exchange for the ship's repairs.

Once he’s done, the stuff shoved into his bag, Din pulls out clean clothes to change into for the night, settling for some cloth pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Putting his helmet on, he gathers his bag and flight suit, the rest of his armor out in the room you’re in with the kid, stacked neatly beside your own.

Greef was the one who provided the accommodations, Din assuming it’d be a basic room—a bed, a refresher, the necessities. That wasn’t good enough for the magistrate, though. Instead, he’d set you up in a one-bedroom suite with a sitting room and a tiny kitchen.

Making his way out of the ‘fresher and bedroom, he stops in his tracks at what he hears.

You’re sitting at the small dining table, the kid in the seat beside you happily accepting the food he’s passed, which was a common occurrence, it’s the song you’re singing that has Din so caught off guard.

He’s heard you hum a lot—tunes were always getting stuck in your head that you picked up in cantinas or buskers on the street. You’ve sung before, too, but you were trying to make him and the kid laugh with your boisterous renditions of Mandalorian drinking songs.

This is different.

It’s not loud—it’s soft, sweet, the Mando’a flowing from your lips like a soft caress, hearing your love for the child with every syllable sung. This is a song mothers sang to their children, having heard such a thing back at the covert, about Mandalore the Great taming his mythical mythosaur and the strength all Mandalorians had.

There’s a helmet on your head, and he can’t help imagining what your face looks like under the t-visor. He can hear your love, would he be able to see it, too? There’s a smile in your voice, and it makes his chest squeeze at how he wishes he could look upon it.

Din knows you, and you know him.

He knows your likes and dislikes, your deepest, darkest secrets—everything about you, Din has learned and loves.

And now he wants more of you to love—he wants all of you, wants to see all of you.

You’re a wonderful mother, the kid so happy with you, taking him in like he’s your own flesh and blood, and something inside Din is screaming that you need more children—he needs to give you that, more little ones to love, and sing to, as many as you want, the thought of you pregnant with his child making his skin heat.

Stars, you’d be even more beautiful round with his baby.

He swallows hard, his pants feeling a little tight.

He knows everything about you, he loves everything about you, and guilt has settled like a stone in his stomach that he suddenly can’t get his mind off what’s under the beskar on your head.

The singing stops when you notice him, your t-visor trained on his prone form, standing just inside the room.

“Hey!” you say, handing the child more food. “It’s dinner time—ordered food while you were in the ‘fresher. Got you something I know you’ll like.”

It takes him from his reverie, finally moving again to set his bag near the table by the couch, the shining pieces of both of your armor on top of it. He tosses his flight suit onto the sofa over his cape, walking over to where you and the kid are.

He’s behind your chair, rubbing his hands over your arms as he replies, “Thank you, my love.” Leaning down to gently knock his helmet against yours in the semblance of a kiss before moving around the table to take a seat.

What would your lips feel like on his?

He has to shake the question from his brain, clearing his throat, and opening the food container in front of him.

It makes him smile when he sees you did get him something he’d like—skewers of meat and vegetables.

Picking one up, he uses the fork beside him to push off the chunks into the container, discarding the skewer and using his free hand to lift his helmet up just enough to take a bite. He groans happily at the spices enveloping his tongue, chewing and swallowing.

“Good?” you ask, beginning to eat your own dinner the same way he was.

In the company of other Mandalorians, it was generally protocol to go off and eat alone, but you’d been traveling in the tight confines of the Crest for so long that barely lifting the helmet was an acceptable compromise, avoiding looking at each other as you did it.

“Really good,” he replies, shoving more into his mouth.

The kid coos contently, full from his meal, while you both enjoy your own, sharing snippets of conversation between bites.

By the time you’re both finished, the little one is falling asleep in his chair, and helmets are once again covering your faces.

“I’ll put him to bed,” you softly say, starting to get up from your chair.

“The couch,” he says a little too quickly.

“The couch?” Your tone is teasing. “Got plans since we have a bed this evening, my dear husband?”

“Maybe I do.”

“In that case, the couch it is,” you reply, disappearing into the bedroom and returning with a pillow and blanket that you put onto the sofa, coming back over to the table to take the child.

Din busies himself cleaning up the trash and finds himself stuck in place when he’s done as he watches you sitting next to the kid, stroking his big ears while softly singing an old lullaby.

That need comes crashing into him again, the one telling him to give you a baby. It’s loud, something primal that he feels deep down that won’t be satisfied until he’s buried himself inside your cunt and pumps you full of his seed.

Arousal is burning in his gut, his cock stirring, eyes locked on your downturned helm and the curve of your breasts under your shirt.

He wants to strip you bare and feel your skin, batting away the intrusive thought of getting your helmet off—his, too, in order to lick and suck what he wants to touch.

He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realize you’ve gotten up until you’re whispering by the bedroom door, “You coming?”

His bare feet move quickly, following you into the other room. Once the door is shut and the lock engaged, he’s crowding into you, needing to get his hands on your body, rubbing them over your soft belly and up to cup your breasts.

“You’re in a mood,” you giggle, Din’s hands roaming all over your body, your front, back, down to grab your ass.

“Need you,” he grunts.

Sliding your hands down his chest, you move lower to palm his half-hard dick in his pants, feeling it twitch under your touch.

“Yeah, you do.”

His eagerness is turning you on, wishing you could kiss him.

That makes you frown.

Over a year together and never once have you thought of kissing Din or seeing him without his helmet, for that matter, and yet, for days now, these things have been popping up in your brain. Kept you wondering what he looks like, or the face he was making in a moment or how soft his lips were, or the color of his eyes—plagued by thoughts that went against how you were raised and what you believed, clear violations of the Creed you swore to live your life by.

It’s never been an issue, always a fact that the helmet stayed on in front of another, and then you met Bo-Katan, and now you were at constant war with your own mind, feeling like it was an enemy you couldn’t vanquish in battle.

There are other Mandalorians out there, who even wish to reclaim Mandalore, and they believe you can remove your helm in the presence of another—Bo-Katan’s own armor had been passed down for three generations.

What if it was okay to remove it?

Would Din want to?

Would he still love you?

“What’s wrong?” he asks, taking you from your thoughts.

His hands are now caressing the sides of your helmet, a little intrusive thought in the back of your mind wishing he’d take it off.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “Just… thinking.”

“About what?”

“Stuff…”

His head tilts in confusion.

“Tell me.”

That’s the thing about Din, he’s your best friend, your husband, you can tell him anything, which is why you tell him the truth.

“Bo-Katan and the others, they are Mandalorians and remove their helmets.”

“Yes, they do not follow the Creed.”

“Do you believe they are Mandalorians?”

“Do you?”

“Bo-Katan was born on Mandalore. She fought in the Great Purge. I do believe they are Mandalorians.”

“As do I.”

“You do?”

“I do.” He nodded.

“Din, we grew up believing in the Way of the Mandalore—it’s all we’ve known. We went through the same ceremony, we swore to walk the Way and never remove our helmets, but I—” Your hands go up to cradle where his cheeks would be “—can’t stop thinking about what you look like, and I feel ashamed because I know it’s wrong.”

“It’s not wrong.” He sounds hopeful. “I feel the same and want to see your face, too.”

That has you taken aback.

“You do…?”

“I do.” He nods.

“But will you still love me…?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

“Of course. I love you for you and not for what’s underneath the beskar.”

“That’s a lie. You’re obsessed with my body.”

He chuckles, “I am because I love you and would continue loving you even if it changed…” he trails off like he’s thinking about something “I. Love. You.” he adds, saying each word clearly.

“Promise?”

Pressing a hand over his heart, he answers, “On my life.”

“Okay, I believe you.”

“Will you still love me…?” The question comes out slowly.

“We literally just had a conversation over how you love me for me, and you have to know I feel the same way.”

“Just making sure.” You can hear his smile.

“So, would you like to break the Creed with me…?”

Your heart is hammering in your chest.

“More than you know.”

Relief washes over you, combined with giddiness.

“Thank the Stars!” you exclaim happily.

“At the same time?” He’s as eager as you are, his hands moving back to hold your helmet again.

“Yes.”

Gripping his, you both count down together, “Three, two, one…” Carefully, you lift his beskar, your own coming off, blinking at the light in the room, and your eyes zeroing in on the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, your mouth falling open in shock.

A person’s looks have never meant much to you, thinking some were pleasing to the eye, you finding someone’s prowess in battle more attractive along with their personality.

Din is a formidable opponent, always succeeding in his endeavors because he is highly intelligent, strong, and knows how to fight and use a weapon.

Even though many fear your husband, he’s actually a very sweet man, caring, loving, and will protect you and your foundling with his life.

And now you know he is also unbelievably attractive.

Beautiful chocolate eyes are rounded as they stare at you, the look on his face a twin of your own, loving his nose, and the messy brown hair on top of his head, seeing that he recently shaved with his facial hair looking neat, taking in every detail and line of the man you love.

“Beautiful,” he whispers in awe, and it has tears brimming in your eyes, bending down to set his helmet on the ground, him doing the same with yours, your hands moving to touch his face when you both straighten.

He’s so gentle when his broad palms caress your cheeks, almost like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

Smiling, you reply, “You’re very handsome yourself.” You reach up to smooth your thumbs over his eyebrows. “Your eyes are stunning. I hope our child gets them.”

His lips tip up, and Stars, they’re so plush, you can’t help yourself when you lean in to press your own against his, him making a surprised sound.

Your heart picks up in speed, having wondered what it would be like to kiss him, and at first, it’s soft; the warmth spreading under your skin, meaning to only give him a peck, but then he’s pulling you closer, kissing you a little harder. It’s lingering, his lips moving against yours in tiny movements that have fire burning brightly in your veins, following his lead to mimic what he was doing again and again and again.

It’s not like either of you has any experience with this type of thing, so you’re figuring it out as you go, doing what feels good, getting braver and more comfortable. Your fingers slide into the thick strands of his hair, moaning when his tongue slides over your bottom lip, instinctively opening for him. This was somehow better, more intimate, tasting each other, exploring the other’s mouths until the need to breathe became too much, and you’re separating with smiles on your faces, Din’s lips red and shiny from spit.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, and it makes you feel all gooey.

“You’re very handsome.”

You stroke your fingers over his cheeks, his hands on your jaw, rubbing a thumb over your wet bottom lip.

It’s like you both can’t stop yourselves from staring, eyes taking in every little detail of the other's face, saving them to memory.

The need rises, and you’re kissing once more, it’s messy before you’re both moving to get your clothes off as quickly as possible—once stripped, Din’s mouth is on yours as he walks you back toward the bed, falling with you on top of it.

His hips are slotted between your thighs, his lips detaching from yours to kiss along your jaw, over your cheeks, up on your forehead, and the tip of your nose.

It makes you smile, him kissing all over your face, then to your ear, shoving his nose in your hair, and inhaling.

“Fuck, you smell amazing,” he says.

That makes you laugh.

“Thanks, but we use the same stuff—we smell the same.”

“No.” He nips at your ear, sucking it into his mouth, gasping at the jolts of pleasure shooting to your center. “You smell better.”

You press your fingers into his hair.

“Stars,” you moan, his lips trailing down your neck and sucking hard on your pulse point. “It feels so good, Din.”

His mouth is so warm, leaving your skin wet in the wake of his kisses, and he can’t seem to get enough, lips streaking across every bit of you as he travels down your body. His mouth engulfs your stiff nipple, making your back arch, gasping his name.

Arousal is hot in your belly, the feeling incredible as he laves at one hard bud, then the other, your head feeling dizzy while soft sounds spill from your lips.

He comes off your nipple with a pop, continuing his journey lower, kissing over your belly until he’s half off the bed, his big hands spreading your thighs.

There’s a look of hunger on his face as he stares at the apex of your thighs, his fingers moving to spread open the lips of your sex, seeing the pink of his tongue peek out to swipe across his bottom lip like he wants to taste you. The look has excitement thrumming in your veins, wanting nothing more than to know what it feels like to have his mouth on you.

“Taste it,” you purr, and his eyes meet yours, his so dark barely any of the beautiful brown remains. “I know you’ve licked me from your fingers.” You’ve seen him on more than one occasion lift his helmet just enough to suck your arousal from digits after they’d been inside you. “Taste it—I want your tongue.” You bit your lip between your teeth.

“Fuck,” he rasps, wasting no time dipping his head forward, licking a stripe through your slit, the flat of his tongue going from your entrance to your clit. He’s groaning into your sensitive flesh as you moan at how good it feels, him laving at every bit of slick he can find, your back arching when he pushes the wet muscle inside you.

“You taste so good.” His words are muffled in your cunt, his mouth moving up, making your toes curl when he sucks on your bundle of nerves.

Even though this isn’t an act either of you has ever done before, Din is a quick learner, knowing intimately what makes you tick—once he has his fill of your taste, he slides two thick fingers inside you, crooking them into that spot he always zeros in on, your vision going white for a second at the shock of pleasure.

“Din,” you moan, threading your fingers into his brown waves for something to hold onto.

The muscles in your belly are beginning to tighten, the heat in the base of your spine growing.

His big brown eyes lock on yours from between your legs, seeing your arousal glistening in his mustache and on his plush lips.

“Wanna taste your come,” he husks, his fingers continuing to work. “Can you come for me? Please?”

This might be his first time, but that big brain of his has quickly worked out how to get what he wants, keeping his gaze on yours while pulling your perky little clit into his mouth, sucking on it while his fingers slide along something divine, rocketing you toward your release.

Your hands tighten in his hair at the pleasurable fire building in your core, feeling it getting hotter and hotter as he works you over, having to bite your fingers to muffle your noises when euphoria explodes inside you, quieting your whine of his name.

“That’s it, beautiful,” he says into your pussy. “My good girl—such a good girl.”

His fingers leave you, replaced with his tongue, hearing and feeling him loudly groan as he indulges in your come, drinking it down from the source.

Your chest is heaving, breathing hard as you come down, your husband having the best time with his mouth on your cunt if the noises are anything to go by.

He got to explore your body, and it’s your turn, salivating at the thought.

Tugging on his hair, you say, “Din?”

His head comes up, looking a little lost with glazed-over eyes, the bottom half of his face shining in the light of the room.

All he can do is grunt in response.

“Get up on the bed and lay down on your back, please.”

His face pinches in confusion.

“What?” he whispers.

You smile. He seems almost drunk, a state you’ve never seen him in since he doesn’t like anything inhibiting his mind or body.

“Get up here, my love—” You pat the bed beside you. “—and lay down on your back. It’s my turn.”

It registers what you say, and he nods, doing as he’s told and crawling up onto the mattress and flopping down next to you with his head resting back on a pillow. Rolling over, you throw your leg over his waist, moving to straddle his hips, your wet center pressing his hard cock into his stomach. You rub your hands up his soft belly and over his chest, seeing the faded scars on his golden skin.

“You’re beautiful,” you say.

His cheeks pink at the comment.

“Thank… you…” he replies, his hands grabbing your waist, smoothing his thumbs over your skin. “You’re more beautiful than the Diathim.”

Your eyebrow raises. “You’re saying I’m prettier than an angel?”

“Songs should be sung of your beauty—there’s nothing that compares in the entire galaxy.” He says it with such conviction your breath hitches, taken aback by the look on his face telling you he means it.

“We should get married,” you blurt out.

“What…?”

“I want to marry you again and see your face when we say our vows.”

You’re fascinated by how you can see him visibly soften, his mouth turning up in a grin that reveals an adorable dimple, reaching his hand to cup your cheek.

“Will you marry me again?” he asks.

You’re matching his look, nodding as you say, “Yes!” Unable to keep yourself from leaning down to press your mouth to his, moaning when you taste yourself in the passionate kiss. His arms wrap around your back, hugging you close to him, losing yourselves for a minute in your happiness.

You’re panting when you break apart.

You’d wanted to take your time getting your mouth all over his body, but there’s a sudden need to have him inside of you—sitting up on your knees, you snake your hand between your bodies to take his cock in hand, pressing it to your aching entrance.

You moan in unison as you lower yourself on him, watching his face as his mouth falls open, his hands grabbing onto your hips, the thick girth of him stretching you open and filling you inch by glorious inch until your thighs meet, feeling so unbelievably full.

“Stars, you feel so good,” you breathe.

“Not as good as you feel.” His words come out strained, watching his throat work as he swallows hard.

You do an experimental roll of your hips, making his fingers tighten in your skin.

His eyes are on yours. “I want to see you come while I’m inside you,” he husks. “Can you do that? Can you use me to make yourself feel good?”

“Yes,” you answer, starting to move up and down, your hands on his chest for leverage.

You love having him inside you—the way he fits so perfectly, rubbing against all the right spots, joining you together.

His hands are on your body while you ride him, rubbing along your ribs and over your stomach, moving up to palm the weight of your breasts, tweaking your nipples, sending jolts straight to your pussy.

“Ride my cock, pretty girl,” Din says in a low rasp. “I love watching you—so beautiful. Use me.”

Adjusting your hips has him sliding into that sacred place that makes your head spin, rising and falling at a pace that’s slowly building you up and up.

Arousal is dripping out of you and down his shaft, allowing you to move with ease, Din’s eyes locked on your face, groans spilling from his throat, looking wrecked at you bouncing on him.

His cock is hot and hard inside you, lifting your hips and slamming your ass down, working yourself closer to your end.

It’s exhilarating to be able to see how good he feels and how much he’s enjoying himself. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes lust-blown, his forehead glistening with sweat.

“I know you’re almost there.” His words come out rough. “You gonna come for me? Gonna be my good girl? I know you can do it. Wanna watch you—wanna see you come, my love.”

“So close,” you pant.

You’re rising and falling, moans slipping from your lips, the knot in your belly winding tighter and tighter until it’s snapping, and you’re coming with a gasp of his name. Your eyes close as pleasure expands from your center, spreading through your body.

“So beautiful,” Din marvels in a groan. “Such a good girl. I love you—I love watching you.”

“I love you, too,” you breathe, your orgasm beginning to ebb.

A surprised sound comes from you when suddenly you’re jostled, Din groaning as he sits up, keeping you on him as he gets situated with you in his lap, spreading his legs on the bed for balance.

You’re now face to face, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his lips find yours, kissing you tenderly, his other arm wrapped around your back to hug you to him. You thread your fingers in his hair, melting into him, accepting his tongue when he deepens the kiss.

You’ve found you love kissing. There was something about it that was so intimate—sharing breaths, being so close, and tasting him.

His hair is so soft and thick, scratching your nails gently along his scalp and feeling him shiver beneath you.

His hands go to your ass, gripping it tight while he starts moving you in his lap, his lips still on yours.

“Want you close,” he murmurs into your mouth. “Need you close.”

You bounce up and down on his throbbing cock, your knees on either side of his hips helping you rise and fall, fucking yourself on him as you keep kissing.

His words are muffled against your lips, “You’re so beautiful, strong, fierce, loving, and good with the kid.” He moves you faster, using his strength to lift you, grunting in exertion. “I watched you tonight with him—I want more little ones.”

The thought makes you clench around him.

“Din,” you moan, feeling him smile.

“I want to raise more warriors with you,” he continues. “I want to father your children. I want to fuck a baby into you,” he groans, his cock twitching. You can tell he’s getting close as you breathe hard, your thighs burning deliciously. “I want to fill you up, fuck you full of me over and over until it takes.” His words have arousal curling in your gut and the familiar heat building at the base of your spine, bouncing up and down in his lap. “I want to see you round with my child. I want to have as many as you’ll allow. I want to fill the ship, then a house with our kids. I want to see you mother more of my children and sing them the songs of old. I want you, all of you.”

It all sounds so good, wanting the same, gasping, “Yes.”

“Can I?” he asks in a wrecked tone. “Can I fuck a baby into you? Can I get you pregnant? Please. Please, can I father your child?”

“Stars, yes,” you moan. “Please. I want one. Fill me up—keep me full.”

He groans loudly, kissing you hard, making you gasp in surprise when he tackles you onto your back on the mattress, his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, holding himself up on his forearms beside your head.

He starts moving fast, fucking into you with abandon to chase his high. The wet slap of skin on skin is sounding in the room, along with his grunts muffled by your mouth, filling you over and over, his thick cock pushing in so deep he’s kissing your womb.

You grab onto his broad shoulders, needing something to hang onto, digging your nails into his golden skin. The kisses are sloppy, the tension rising in your belly. His pace gets uneven until he pushes in one last time, going as deep as he can, coming with a ragged groan. You can feel him jerk inside you and the wet pulse as warmth fills your depths. He rocks his hips, moving a hand between your bodies to circle your clit, already so worked up that it doesn’t take much to have you cresting softly with a moan of his name. Your body tenses up, Din grunting as your cunt chokes his dick, working his spend even deeper inside you.

“That’s it,” he groans. “So good to me, my good girl.”

You’re both panting, and he moves his head to the crook of your neck, collapsing on top of you.

It makes you smile when you press your fingers into his sweat-damp hair; how soothing it is to just run your fingers through the brown waves and lightly scratch at his scalp, Din practically purring.

“That’s so nice.” He slurs.

“I like It, too.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It’s comfortable as you both lie there, not caring about your sweaty bodies or his weight on you, just basking in the afterglow together.

It feels like you’re so close, neither of you would know where one ends and the other begins—so tangled up in each other it feels as though you’re one—one body, one heart, one soul.

Minutes pass in silence, Din groaning as he moves to get up, kneeling between your spread legs. His eyes are locked on where you’re connected, hissing when he pulls himself out of you. Your eyes widen when his fingers catch some of his come that’s dripped out of you, moaning when he pushes it back inside.

“Don’t want to waste a drop,” he says. “Can you keep it inside, my love?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

He smiles.

“Thank you.”

His hand leaves you watching in interest as he pushes the digits between his lips, sucking them clean with a groan. They leave his mouth with a pop, his gaze on yours.

“I’ll never tire of how good you taste.” He says.

“I feel like you’re going to be insatiable.” You tease.

He smiles, and you love it so much that you wish to see it every day for the rest of your life.

“I’m already insatiable.”

“Yes, you are.” You reply with the same look on your face.

Quickly he’s off the bed and coming back with a warm wet cloth, gently wiping you down and cleaning himself up, it getting tossed to the floor when he’s done.

He pulls you to lay correctly on the bed in his arms with your heads cushioned by pillows, facing him.

The lights are still on, and you just stare into each other's eyes, losing yourself in his dark pools, him smiling softly under his mustache.

“I’m so happy to know your face,” he whispers, his big hand sliding along your cheek. “I love you.”

“I’m happy to know your face, too,” you say just as softly. “The face of the man I love, who will father my children.”

He smiles brightly, his eyes crinkling adorably at the edges, leaning in to kiss you.

There’s light banging heard at the door that can only be made by tiny fists, Din and you separating immediately with wide eyes.

“Were we too loud?” You whisper.

Din grimaces, answering, “Maybe?”

You’re both moving immediately, jumping out of bed and tugging on your clothes, the air in the room tinged with sex. At least the kid chose to wake up after you’d finished. It was always incredibly awkward when he interrupted during.

The two of you look disheveled, Din’s hair a mess on top of his head, and his cheeks tinted pink.

“Go wash your hands and face,” you tell him. “I’ll get him.” Neither of you bothered putting on your helmets, your husband heading for the en suite, while you made it to the door, disengaging the lock and opening it.

You’re smiling as you look down at the child, him staring up at you with a weird look on his face.

“Hey, buddy,” you say, and his eyes get big, him babbling something pointing at your head. It makes you laugh. “It’s okay,” you reassure, leaning down to pick him up. He’s staring at you, his big eyes somehow bigger. “This is what I look like under the helmet.” His little clawed hand reaches out, pressing it to your cheek as he coos, and it warms your heart.

“Hey, you little womp rat,” Din’s warm voice says as he enters the room, you turning so the kid can see him. The child is babbling up a storm, holding his arms out, and Din chuckles, taking him as soon as he’s within reach. “Did we wake you up?” he asks. “We were just, uh, sparring, yeah, we were sparring, there’s nothing you need to worry about.” The kid is looking at him in wonder, reaching to touch Din’s cheek, the man smiling. “Yeah, I’m not wearing my helmet.” The child looks at you and back at Din, chattering up a storm.

“I think he’s confused.” You tell your husband.

“Yeah, I think he is.” His attention goes back to the kid in his arms, rubbing his back, speaking in a soft tone, “Hey, it’s okay, buddy.” The child goes silent as he listens. “There, uh, were those other Mandalorians who took off their helmets, and we decided to do the same. Everything’s okay. It’s still us.” He’s cooing again, patting Din’s cheek, making his dad chuckle. “It’s my face.” The kid yawns. “You ready to go back to bed?”

You’re already moving toward the mattress, taking off the top blanket, tossing it onto the floor, and pulling back the sheets.

Din walks over and gets in on the other side while still holding the child.

The boy ends up on Din’s chest, his tiny hand reaching up to rub the man’s earlobe while softly babbling—you crawl in next to your husband, resting your head on his shoulder, the lights turned off.

You’re beyond happy to know what the man you love looks like, and you can’t wait to add to your little family, rubbing a hand over your belly.

Your period is almost a month late, and you have a feeling it has nothing to do with stress.

Din was going to be ecstatic.

Masterlist

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