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fanfreakinfiction · 8 months

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My Gods Are Not Kind to Lonely Mothers

Chapter 1: Don’t Cry

Ch. 2 | Masterlist 🖤

14K words // Din Djarin x Pregnantf!reader

Pairing: Din Djarin x pregnantf!reader (Reader is younger but not weirdly young) Reader was a sex worker. Reader’s first language is one I made up she speaks pretty good basic but struggles to find certain words. The reader is pregnant!

Tags: SMUT virginity loss, con-non-con, made-up Star Wars culture & religion, split POV, slight language barrier, mention of death, mention of child death, dark!, 18+ DNI.

Warnings: Child loss, Pregnancy, Birthing, Blood, Death?, explicit mention of child loss and grief, guys this is dark.

A/N: I got this idea as I was dying in the shower from period cramps & also from a bot I used to use on Janitor AI before it was privated (RIP Din Bot). For logistics, we will just pretend that the Razor Crest didn’t get absolutely obliterated. For timeline reference, this takes place after season 3. Im convinced Din & Grogu are gonna have fun son/dad bounty-hunting adventures as Din teaches Grogu how to be a Mandalorian. Slight flashback in the middle of how reader and Mando met. Grogu has been working on his force flips lmao. I imagine the reader having an accent kind of like Gal Gadot, idk just roll with it. Also, I am so sorry if you cry reading this, I know I did writing it.

His hands ghosted over the silky skin of her back as he watched himself disappear and reappear from her stretched cunt. Slick mixed with blood pooled at the base of his cock in a ring, and the sound of her whimpers reached his ears through the thick metal of his helmet. The feeling of her tightness was so inviting, so hypnotizing, he felt possessed. He didn’t even mean to finish inside of her, he’d have to pay extra for that.

From the incense heavy room he found himself standing at the edge of an enigmatic forest, encircled by black rock. An ethereal silence enveloped the scene, leaving him with an eerie sense of detachment.

His eyes shifted as he looked up on a pool of steaming water, obscured by the thick veil of steam, he saw her. The woman he’d been with on Tattooine so long ago. She struggled, her words lost in the hissing steam as her trembling hand gently grazed her belly. And there, in the midst of the dream's uncertainty, he witnessed the miracle of life itself—a whisper of cells coalescing into a fragile existence, pulsating with an otherworldly vitality.

Yet, the serenity was short-lived. The gentle whisper transformed into a nightmarish wail—a blood-curdling scream that tore through the tranquility of the woods. It was a scream of agony, of despair, and it emanated from her trembling lips. Her lips, soft and inviting, the same ones he'd yearned to kiss that night when he had ventured into the pleasure house.

The piercing screams grew louder, echoing through the dream, a symphony of suffering that filled the air with torment. As he watched her agony unfold, he was jolted awake, his head colliding with the unforgiving overhead storage. The sudden transition from the surreal to reality left him momentarily disoriented.

In the dimly lit living quarters of the Crest, Grogu, the young green child who had become an unexpected but cherished presence in his life, cried out from his sling, hanging above Din's bunk.

With a heavy sigh, the sound reverberating through the vocoder in his helmet, Din rose to his feet. The aging joints in his knees protested as he reached out to comfort the child, his gloved hands gently lifting Grogu from the nest of makeshift fabric.

"I know," Din murmured softly, his voice a quiet rumble as he cradled the child in his arms. "You saw it too, didn't you, kid?" Grogu, with his large, expressive eyes, gazed up at Din with a mournful look and reached out, tiny green fingers brushing against the Mandalorian's helmet.

After the tumultuous events that had reshaped his life, Din Djarin had never allowed your memory to occupy his thoughts. Amidst the whirlwind of reuniting with Grogu, aiding Boba Fett, and playing a pivotal role in the reclamation of Mandalore, you had become little more than a faint blip on his radar—a passing connection that had provided a brief interlude of solace in the midst of his relentless journey.

But now, as he cradled Grogu in his arms, looking into the innocent, sorrowful eyes of the young child, he couldn't deny the awakening of something deeper within him. It was a sensation that transcended the confines of his dreams, a connection he felt as profoundly as the vivid dreamscape that had woven itself into his consciousness.

The realization slowly dawned upon him: you were more than just a fleeting memory. You were an integral part of the enigmatic tapestry of his life, and the threads of fate had woven your presence into his destiny in a way he had never expected.

Breaking free from his reverie, Grogu's tiny green form squirmed wildly in Din's arms, his latent Force abilities propelling him away from the Mandalorian's grasp. With agile grace, he leaped and bounced his way through the ship's cramped quarters, a small but energetic whirlwind of curiosity. Din could barely react before Grogu vaulted into the cockpit.

Din's boots thudded on the ladder's metal rungs as he followed the young one up into the cockpit. A chorus of wild babbling reached his ears, punctuated by the frenzied pressing of buttons on the navicomputer.

"Don't touch that!" Din exclaimed, a hint of exasperation in his voice, his heart racing as Grogu's tiny hand hovered perilously close to the power reset button. He couldn't help but be wary of the mischief the child could unleash.

The young one looked up at Din with eager eyes, babbled something incomprehensible, and tentatively touched the screen. Din cocked his head, his tinted visor reflecting his curiosity. With a resigned sigh, he walked over to the console and entered a code to initialize the navigation system. "Is this what you want?" Din asked, studying Grogu.

In response, Grogu emitted a single, distinct "Patu" sound, his tiny fingers now reaching for the code panel. Hesitating only momentarily, Din bent down, lifting the child to eye level with the buttons. Grogu began to press a sequence of buttons, his small, green hands navigating the controls with surprising precision. Din's eyes widened slightly, his thoughts racing.

"You know where she is?" his voice came out raspy. Grogu completed the sequence, and his innocent gaze met Din's as the navicomputer diligently calculated the numerical sequence. After a few moments, a series of beeps indicated the successful completion of the calculations. Din turned to read the result, the Aurebesh characters on the screen spelling out "Kith."

"It's in the Baxel Sector of the Outer Rim," Din murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty, as he looked down at the child now resting contentedly in his lap. Grogu gazed up at him, then shifted his gaze to the navicomputer.

With a reluctant sigh, Din pressed a sequence of buttons to engage the hyperdrive. Whether he liked it or not, the path ahead was clear. He had to check on you. As the ship surged into hyperspace, a nagging voice in the back of his mind whispered that this journey was far from ordinary.

—

The path up to the Mountain of Mothers was a grueling journey, especially with your feet swollen and aching. It wasn't just a hike; it was a trial, a test of endurance to prove the worthiness of those seeking parenthood. The heavy pack you carried pressed on your lower back, making each step a test of your will. Normally, the pack was shared by the "Irrit" or father, but "Illa-ishi" or lonely mothers like you were compelled to carry it alone. The remnants of those who hadn't made it to the Mountain of Mothers were marked by the skeletons you passed on the way up.

The lower pool of the mountain lay two days away, and the upper pool required an additional five days of journey. Yet, something in your heart told you that this child would be with you in two days. As you followed the ascending trail, you crossed paths with an "Illa" or mother, accompanied by her Irrit. He bore their pack with pride, walking just behind her. It was a sight that warmed your heart, a testament to the culture you held dear.

"Noona" or baby was the foundation of your beliefs, the embodiment of the life you and your "Manna" or partner created together. Reaching the Mountain of Mothers and returning with a child was the highest honor, a symbol of worthiness.

The Illa halted on her descent and, with an air of pride, revealed her noona, wrapped in the family cloth. "Noona asa illa-ini!" (it’s a girl) she declared with joy, unveiling a beautiful baby girl. You couldn't help but smile down at the tiny noona and the Illa who showed her off with such pride.

“Noona asa mala ta Illa a Irrit,” (baby is worthy of her mother and father) you responded with the customary blessing, bowing your head in reverence. The mother and father returned the bow, acknowledging the blessing. However, the mother's eyes soon drifted to your belly and the heavy pack that weighed you down.

“Asa Illa-ishi?” she asked softly, her face clouding with sadness. (Are you a lonely mother?)

Summoning all your strength, you fought back the tears that threatened to well up. With your head held high and a tender hand resting on your belly, you spoke resolutely, "A illa-ishi."

I am a lonely mother.

—

The journey through hyperspace had indeed stretched far longer than Din had anticipated. A full day had elapsed since that haunting dream, leaving him with the unsettling sensation of being trapped in some unseen, cosmic rotation of time. However, that ceaseless ticking eventually brought them to the end of their journey as the ship dropped out of hyperspace in front of a smaller, mysterious planet, its surface adorned with sprawling waters and lush forests. As he guided the ship into the planet's atmosphere, the Mandalorian noticed a stark absence of the usual signs of civilization—no traffic control, no spaceports, not even a refueling station. The setting felt eerily reminiscent of the world of Sorgan.

Din hovered uncertainly in the atmosphere, his mind racing. Grogu, seated in the co-pilot's chair, played with the mythasaur skull around his neck, seemingly unfazed by the situation. As Din stared at the green child, he let out a sigh and rested his head against the back of his chair.

"Now what…?" Din muttered to himself, his voice carrying the weight of uncertainty. Closing his eyes, he tried to recall the details of the dream, seeking any hint or clue that could guide their search.

In his mind's eye, he saw you, your form shrouded in mist and glistening with sweat. The dress you wore clung to your figure, the fabric a soft white-grey that accentuated your curves as you breathed heavily. His brow furrowed in concentration. There was water, almost like a waterfall, surrounding you, with black jagged rocks supporting your form. Your feet were immersed in milky water, reminiscent of a hot spring.

Din's eyes snapped open. A hot spring. It wasn't much to go on, especially for a planet that could potentially be dotted with such natural wonders, but it was a lead worth pursuing. His hands sprung into action, deftly pressing a sequence of buttons that initiated a signal, a ping to any electronic communication device on the planet's surface.

Grogu's focus shifted from the mythasaur skull to the Mandalorian, the child's curious gaze following Din's swift movements. Din soon located the nearest signal on the planet's surface, and as he brought the Razor Crest lower, he was struck by the intensity of the landscape. Towering thick trees covered nearly every inch of land, a vast, unspoiled wilderness that stretched out as far as the eye could see. The planet's terrain was marked by colossal mountains that sliced through the canopy of green like serpents in water, their peaks jutting out in sporadic bursts.

It was a breathtaking and untamed landscape, like nothing Din had ever witnessed. His gaze scanned the vast expanse below, tracking the signal as he searched for a suitable place to land the Crest. Finally, he spotted it—an elevated landing pad erected above the treetops. It seemed to be a small station, but it was a potential refuge for refueling and gathering information, a step closer to finding you

"K1 to RC 4577, you are clear to land at dock 7," a thickly accented voice echoed through the Razor Crest's comms system, providing the coordinates for their landing.

"RC 4577 to K1, recieved," Din responded, his gaze shifting to meet Grogu's eyes. The Mandalorian leaned over to offer a piece of advice to the child, "Always be kind when you land; most landing bay employees often know the most information." Grogu looked at Din, his large eyes brimming with understanding, and he babbled something that Din accepted as an acknowledgment.

With precision, Din guided the Razor Crest toward its designated dock and gently brought the ship to the surface. As he withdrew his hand from the control lever, he noticed a subtle tremor in his own fingers. It had been a long time since he had felt such a physical manifestation of emotion, not since he had lost Grogu to Moff Gideon.

In response to the tremor, Grogu cooed softly and reached out for his protector. Din's gaze locked onto the child, his trembling hands cautiously reaching out to embrace him. Grogu instinctively placed his tiny hands on either side of Din's helmet, offering comfort and connection. A sense of relief washed over the Mandalorian, and he exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The small hands on his helmet made a soft "plink" sound that resonated through his interior comms.

"Thanks, kid," Din murmured, his voice laden with gratitude, but his words unable to fully convey the depth of his feelings.

Exiting the ship, Din carried Grogu in his sling, the child's presence providing a grounding force amidst the uncertainty that lay ahead. A young mechanic in worn-overalls approached, his basic broken but comprehensible. "Need refuel?" he asked, to which Din nodded in acknowledgment. The mechanic, unfazed by the Mandalorian's helmet, started toward the fuel hose.

"Hot springs?" Din inquired, his voice barely audible above the wind that whipped violently across the landing pad. The mechanic turned, his eyes reflecting confusion, but Din simply nodded and reached for his credits, preparing to tip the young man for his services. Glancing around the landing pad, he spotted a few other ships—a transport vessel and two cargo ships.

The pad itself had clearly seen better days, and the gusts of wind whipped violently across its aged metal surface, causing a tumultuous symphony of sound. At the front of the landing pad stood a small rectangular building, featuring one set of large bay doors. It seemed to be the station's main structure. Adjusting Grogu in his sling, Din began to make his way toward it, his steps determined.

The small building served as a cover for various ships, a mix of those dusted and covered with the weight of time, and others gleaming with newness. Inside, a modest diner and café shop hummed with activity, a few patrons engaged in quiet conversations. At the front, an older man sat at a makeshift desk, engrossed in the workings of a peculiar-looking computer. As Din approached, the man stood abruptly, his enthusiasm palpable.

"Hello, traveler! Welcome to Kith!" he greeted with a giant smile. "I am Don Mai, the residing Mayor. We are humbled by the presence of a great warrior such as yourself!" With a reverence that bordered on adoration, the old man bowed deeply.

Din suppressed the urge to laugh, already forming an opinion of the enthusiastic mayor that he made a mental note to tell Bo Katan about later. Before Din could utter a word, Don Mai thrust a paper pamphlet into his hands, his speech transitioning into a rehearsed spiel about Kith's culture and history.

"Kith has a rich culture and even more intense history! Women from all over the galaxy come to experience the Mountain of Mothers and—"

“The Mountain of Mothers?" Din interjected, his tone cutting through the mayor's ramblings.

Don Mai's eyes widened slightly, and he cleared his throat. "Well, the Mountain of Mothers has been around since the dawn of life on our humble planet, and its springs offer—"

"Hot springs?" Din interrupted again, his focus unwavering.

"Uh, well, yes, you see, the springs offer—" Don Mai began once more, but Din's impatience grew apparent.

"Where?" Din's voice was firm, demanding answers without the unnecessary embellishments.

Don Mai huffed, "The Mountain of Mothers is the largest mountain range on Kith. You should've seen it from your ship. If you take the elevator down to the planet’s surface, there is a speeder rental that can take you to the base of the range," the old man explained, his tone slightly deflated by Din's lack of interest in his detailed lecture.

Din places the paper pamphlet in a storage pocket on his bandolier as Grogu watches closely.

“And the elevator?” Din asks not looking away from the old man.

"To the left of the fuel pump on the landing pad. Just remember to pay your respects to the Gods as you visit the—"

The old man's voice dwindled into the background as Din walked away from the building and back onto the landing pad. He made his way to the fuel pump and, as instructed, looked to the left to find a rickety-looking elevator, seemingly manually operated. The metal showed signs of rust in various spots, and the wire pulley appeared to be in need of greasing. The flooring of the elevator was a grate that revealed the ground thousands of feet below. Grogu emitted a series of frightened squeaks and coos as Din hesitantly stepped onto the grating.

"I know, kid… let's just... get down there," Din muttered through gritted teeth, steeling himself for the precarious descent.

Din's hand gripped the elevator crank tightly, his patience stretched thin as he began the painstakingly slow descent. Halfway through, he had to switch arms, the anger at the archaic contraption bubbling beneath his calm exterior. It was unusual for him to get frustrated with inanimate objects, but this elevator was testing his resolve. After what felt like an eternity, the elevator reached the bottom of the landing pad. With a forceful yank, Din opened the rusted gate, stepping onto soil that felt surprisingly soft underfoot, reminiscent of the sands on Tatooine, albeit less yielding.

The area below was like a forgotten tourist hub, the shops standing silent and forlorn, each manned by a lone shopkeeper who stared into the emptiness, boredom etched across their faces. It was a desolate sight, a place trying to be lively without the visitors to make it so.

Walking further, Din noticed a row of rusted speeder bikes, the rentals. His heavy boots left imprints on the sponge-like earth as he approached. A few of the shopkeepers stirred from their boredom at the sight of the silver-clad Mandalorian passing by.

Reaching the speeder rental, Din was met by an old Aqualish man, the grey of the hair surrounding his face telling tales of years of service.

"How much?" Din asked, his voice reflecting his growing impatience.

"Fifty credits," the Aqualish garbled back.

"Thirty-five," Din countered, his tone firm as he shifted his weight to one side. Grogu cooed softly from his sling, his wide eyes observing the bartering process.

The Aqualish nodded in agreement and walked away to retrieve the speeder keys.

As Din adjusted Grogu in the sling to access his credits, he caught sight of a couple approaching from the earthen road. The man carried a hefty pack on his back, and the woman cradled a baby in her arms. The pride in the man's eyes was evident as he helped his wife walk toward the shops.

"Noona asa mala ta Illa a Irrit!" the shopkeeper, an elderly woman across the street, shouted at them. The couple bowed softly in acknowledgment as they continued walking. Every shop they passed echoed the same foreign phrase, and Din watched with curiosity. Upon reaching the elevator, the man removed his pack, fashioning a makeshift seat for his wife as he started cranking the elevator back up to the top of the landing pad.

The sound of a throat clearing broke Din's concentration. The Aqualish man stood, hand outstretched, waiting expectantly for the payment. Din sighed inwardly, realizing he had been lost in his thoughts. He paid the credits and received the keys to the rusted speeder. Adjusting Grogu in the sling, ensuring the child was safely nestled in his lap, Din ignited the speeder and set off down the only trail leading out of the market.

The only path to the Mountain of Mothers.

—

The pain in your swollen belly intensified as you stood at the base of the last incline leading to the lower pool. The journey had taken a heavy toll on your body, leaving you exhausted and in constant discomfort. Your feet were swollen, your hips ached, and everything hurt, but the cramping in your abdomen was what worried you most. The night before, you had barely managed to rest, opting to lie on the soft ground without bothering with your bedroll. Restlessness had plagued you throughout the night, and now the cramping made it clear that your time was approaching.

Today would be your last day on this arduous journey. The lower pool was just above you, but the pain in your body seemed unbearable. You knew it was all part of the gods' plan for you, but you never expected the pain to be this intense.

As you struggled up the final incline, a sharp pain ripped through you, and you stumbled. Your pack felt impossibly heavy, and your breaths came short. Beads of sweat formed on your brow as a wall of rock loomed ahead of you.

"Itta non a dashi," (I will not die here) you whispered defiantly, mustering the strength from the deepest part of your being. As your emotions surged, you felt the baby shift within you. With renewed determination, you regained your balance, placing a loving hand on your swollen belly.

The next incline lay ahead, one of the most challenging parts of the journey. You could see evidence of past mothers who had slipped or stopped, their bones scattered in the crevices of the rock. For Illa-ishi, like yourself, the task was solitary, without the help of an Irrit to assist with the ascent.

You stood at the base of the rocky cliff, gazing up at the tantalizing promise of the lower pool. The rhythmic thunder of the waterfall beyond the peak urged you forward, swirls of steam rose into the air, a tantalizing promise of the lower pool just a short climb away.

Thankfully, the rugged rock face bore shelves that made the treacherous climb more bearable. Growing up you heard tales of a time a century past when an Irrit, a kind-hearted soul whose manna, a young woman, could not walk. In a display of unwavering determination and love, he took chisel and hammer in hand, carving these sturdy, stone steps into existence. With these ledges, he could secure her safely to his back and ascend the daunting precipice so she could birth their child.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you surveyed the ascent before you. The harsh sun beat down, casting long shadows across the rocky surface. Determination burned in your eyes as you figured out the best plan of action. With a surge of resolve, you slipped the heavy pack from your sweat-covered body, feeling an immediate relief as the oppressive weight fell off you and onto the gritty dirt below.

With your pack discarded, you dragged it to the base of the wall where the first of the man-made shelves jutted out, a mere foot of space cut into the unforgiving rock face. Despite the fatigue gnawing at your muscles, you carefully planted your foot on the ledge, finding just enough space to stand. Bending down carefully you pulled the pack onto the ledge beside your feet. Your birthing gown, gauzy and light, provided a surprising ease of movement. Once you’d made sure the pack was secure you looked up and examined the next shelf. It was a little high of a stretch but you gripped the wall above to steady yourself, your gown billowing slightly with the effort.

Your hips protested with each movement, but the primal instinct to survive drowned out the pain. With staggering determination, you raised your leg, using the hold of the wall to leverage yourself onto the rock shelf to the left. Your arms, weary but unyielding, lifted your body until you were safely on the shelf.

Taking a moment to collect yourself, you glanced back down at the last shelf, now below you. Gathering remnants of your strength, you reached down, hands trembling slightly, and lifted your pack with both arms onto the shelf beside you. Only one more shelf remained, higher up and to your right, a final obstacle before hauling yourself onto the top of the cliff.

After a short rest, you locked eyes with the next shelf, determination burning in your gaze. With a swift motion, you reached up for a gap in the wall to get a grip. Sliding your right hand into the sharp crevice, you pulled with all your might, grunting with effort as you lifted your right leg onto the shelf, which was higher than the last. But in that moment of triumph, a sudden jolt of pain radiated from your lower back all the way to your fingertips, and you lost your hold, a gasp ripping through you.

Stumbling backward, you were saved only by your pack, which you used for leverage to steady yourself. The contraction was fierce, so intense that it was only when you absentmindedly touched the dress covering your belly that you realized you'd sliced your palm on the unforgiving rock. Scarlet red stained your gown, creating an almost perfect handprint. Oddly, you felt no pain in your hand, your senses consumed by the tightening in your abdomen, which worsened with every passing moment.

“Issa non a tishi noona..” (its not time yet baby) you groaned out in pain, your voice strained and breathless. Your eyes clenched shut as you tried to endure the relentless waves of agony.

You stood trembling on the shelf of the wall for a good minute or two before the contraction finally subsided, leaving you panting and exhausted. It was then that the sharp sting in your hand dominated your senses. You examined your hand, the crevice in the wall had sliced deep, and you could see the gash, making your stomach turn uneasily.

Reaching into your pack, you found the medipack, fingers trembling as you carefully opened it to retrieve the gauze and a bacta spray. With great care, you held your injured hand out in front of you and applied the bacta spray to the gash, wincing at the initial sting. Then, you gently wrapped the gauze around the wound, ensuring it was secure. The sharp pain began to dull as your trembling hand capped the spray, carefully returning it to the medipack.

With a sigh, you straightened up, taking a moment to regain your composure. The pain in your hand was no longer the foremost concern, and you couldn't let it distract you from the task at hand. You knew that each moment counted in this climb, and you needed to find the safest route to reach the next shelf.

Reassessing the situation, you examined the uneven rock wall before you, trying to identify the most secure handholds and footholds.

An idea crossed your mind and it could be great, or the worst idea ever and you could fall to your death but you were determined. You carefully maneuver around your pack and push it closer to the end of the shelf. You carefully placed a leg on the pack and then another, standing precariously on your pack which provided you almost a foot of extra height, you used the wall to steady yourself. You prayed to the Gods and reached with your right hand for the crevice that had so rudely marred your hand. Finding more traction with the gauze you confidently pulled yourself extending your right leg so your foot found purchase on the shelf. A victorious smile crossed your face as you then pushed off your pack with your left leg and hoisted yourself onto the shelf. A quiet laugh left your lips as you clung to the wall you were now facing.

Looking to your left, you bent down carefully to grab your pack. This shelf was a lot shorter, jutting from the wall maybe only eight inches. You had to precariously grab your heavy pack with one hand and quickly cram it under your left leg to prevent it from plummeting to the ground below.

You were so close now that you could feel the cool mist from the water above, and the deafening roar of the falls filled your ears. Perched roughly 15 feet above the ground, you took a moment to catch your breath. You dared not look down, fearing that it would disrupt your balance. Instead, you pressed your belly tightly against the rock wall in front of you, your heart pounding with both exertion and anticipation.

After a brief moment of rest, a surge of adrenaline coursed through you. This was it, the final leg of your treacherous journey. You had one more pull, one last push, and you would reach the lower pool, your goal within your grasp. But you also knew that a single mistake could lead to a disastrous fall, a fate you couldn't afford.

Taking a deep breath, you raised your arms above your head, your palms resting on the ridge above. With utmost care and precision, you hoisted yourself up, quickly placing both feet on your pack. The pack provided just enough height to get your elbows onto the smooth rock above. You pulled with every ounce of strength you had, feeling your belly scrape against the unyielding stone as you lifted.

Luck was on your side, as your feet managed to find a foothold through the worn leather of your boot. This newfound leverage allowed you to push yourself up, resembling a sea lion clambering onto a rocky outcrop. With sheer determination and the last vestiges of your strength, you quickly pulled your right leg under you and pushed yourself onto all fours on the smooth rock face. Your heart raced, your hands and knees trembling from the exertion, but you had made it. You had reached the final stretch of your perilous ascent, and the pool ahead awaited, a shimmering reward for your indomitable spirit.

A sob escaped your lips, a surge of emotion you hadn't anticipated as the reality of your accomplishment finally caught up with you. You had done it. You had managed to make it to the lower pool, and the inviting, milky-warm waters beckoned to soothe your weary body. Steam swirled around you, creating an ethereal atmosphere as you lay there, taking in the moment.

Rolling onto your back to face the sky, you watched as a giant silver ship soared high above the mountain. Your eyes followed it for a brief moment before it disappeared into the vast expanse of the blue sky. Tears welled up and trickled down your cheeks, their salty warmth mixing with the refreshing mist from the pool. You felt the gentle movements of the babe inside you and couldn't help but smile through your tears.

"Noona...we made it," you whispered in basic, your hand tenderly caressing your belly. The connection between you and the life within you was stronger than ever, a bond forged through this incredible journey.

After some time, you stirred, realizing that you needed to retrieve your pack. With some effort, the pack proved easier to handle than your own weight combined with the growing life inside you. You unzipped the pack and reached for your bedroll when another sensation, different from the earlier contractions, radiated through your core. This time, it felt like pressure, a clear sign that the moment you had been anticipating was drawing near.

After finding the bedroll, you took a moment to survey the area for a suitable spot to lay it down. The relatively flat rock surface encircling the spring was a dark black, a stark contrast to the frothy blue of the hot spring's waters. The ancient, tranquil pool was surrounded by old, tattered bedrolls, some empty, while others still held the silent remains of Illa-ishi who hadn't been as fortunate as you.

You sighed softly, the weight of the past and the solemnity of the place pressing down on you. You knew what lay beneath the surface of this hot spring – the resting places of those who had undertaken the same treacherous journey but hadn't emerged victorious. Out of respect for their memory, the people of Kith never dared to touch the remains. Instead, they left the bones where they lay, allowing them to become one with the planet's core, a final return to the world from which they had come.

Gently, you found a clear space amidst the bedrolls and laid down your own bedroll. It felt strange to rest among the remnants of those who had gone before you, but you also understood the significance of this place.

It was believed among your people that the Mountain of Mothers was the handiwork of the divine God of Kith, a deity whose love for his wife, Illa-ishi, was as vast as the universe itself.

Illa-ishi’s womb had cradled life for what seemed like an eternity and her body bore the weight of years, while her heart bore the burden of unbearable pain. Witnessing his beloved wife suffer, Kith, with his divine hands, crafted a pool at the mountain's base. Its waters held the promise of relief, a balm for Illa-ishi's agony.

While Kith labored tirelessly to raise the Mountain of Mothers, Illa-ishi, driven by a desperation born of unending torment, embarked on a solitary climb up its slopes. With each step, she ascended toward the heavens, seeking solace that seemed perpetually out of reach.

At the pinnacle of her journey, amidst the tranquil waters of the divine pool, Illa-ishi's child was born. Yet, there was no cry of life, no breath to fill the air. In a heart-wrenching moment, the lonely mother, overcome by despair, embraced the waters that had promised relief. She allowed herself to be consumed, seeking peace in the depths of the pool.

Kith, returning to find his wife and child lost to the pool’s embrace, was consumed by an anguish that eclipsed the stars. In his sorrow, he performed a deed both divine and sacrificial. In a resolute act, he harnessed the remnants of their life force, infusing it with the very essence of his divine being, and breathed life into the creation of the upper pool atop the Mountain of Mothers.

This upper pool, borne from his profound sacrifice, was destined to be a reward for those who completed the arduous journey together. It was a testament to the strength of unity, the enduring love that bound families and lovers, and the rewards that awaited those who surmounted the trials of life.

Yet, even in the splendor of his divine creation, Kith's sadness consumed him. He recognized the fundamental truth that Illa could not always survive, and that Noona may not always breathe. And so, the first pool, at the mountain's base, remained untouched, preserved as a sanctuary of rest and respect. A place where Illa-ishi, and Illa could find solace amidst the beauty of the Mountain of Mothers, where the waters whispered stories of love and sacrifice, and where their weary spirits could find respite beneath the endless expanse of the starlit sky.

In history there was only one illa-ishi who succeeded in birthing a breathing babe at the first pool, and she had birthed an evil so strong it was said to last generations.

You knew your heart, and you knew your babe. You had come here to rest.

—

The hike was hard. Din was breathing heavily under the weight of his armor and the burden of Grogu, who looked around the desolate landscape with a sad curiosity. How many skeletons had they passed? What kind of place was this? Why were you here? The guilt gnawed at him with each step he took. Why had he even gone to seek out pleasure from solitude in the first place? He thought back to that night…

The night was dark and heavy as Din sat alone in the dimly lit corner of the cantina in Mos Eisley, his thoughts consumed by a yearning for Grogu. The scorching sands of Tatooine outside were a harsh reminder of the precious time he had spent here with the child and Peli Motto. They had been moments of sanctuary, where the galaxy's chaos seemed miles away.

Nearly a year had passed since he'd entrusted Grogu to Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker, a decision made with the best intentions. But that choice had left a void within him that he could hardly bear. Sleepless nights had become his constant companion, and the craving for both rest and peace had grown unbearable. And yet, he found himself agreeing to help Boba Fett in the midst of a brutal war, a commitment that seemed at odds with his desire for tranquility.

But in that cantina, he made a solemn decision. He had to seek out Grogu one last time, he had to give Grogu the chain mail that he had made for him. Just, as a way to protect him nothing more… He ran his fingers over its cool surface, a gesture that silently conveyed his unbreakable resolve before he pocketed the beskar.

As the night deepened and the alcohol flowed, he realized he had indulged in more Corellian Whiskey than he should have, knowing he needed a clear head for the journey that awaited him. But the whiskey's burn was a welcomed distraction, a temporary escape from the overwhelming pain of missing Grogu.

In the midst of his solitude, the cantina's atmosphere began to change. A group of scantily dressed women, draped in silks and adorned with gold, entered the establishment. They moved with grace and charisma, engaging patrons in conversation, flirting, and distributing holochips for a nearby pleasure house. Din snorted at the thought. When was the last time he even had time to fuck anything but his palm?

When was the last? He wondered trying to think back over the years since he’d acquired the responsibility of caring for Grogu.

Years. Actual, years.

In his inebriated state, Din found himself clutching the holochip, his steps unsteady as he navigated the narrow streets of Mos Eisley towards the establishment advertised on the chip. He had given in to a reckless impulse, fueled by a desire to escape the pain of missing Grogu, and a fleeting sense of excitement at the prospect of companionship, even if it was just for one night. The weight of the impending war, as Boba Fett had described it, loomed in his thoughts, and he couldn't help but wonder if this might be his last moment of solace.

Entering the dimly lit and shady establishment, he was met by a greasy, overweight man berating a young child. The sight of the child sent a wave of unease through him, casting a shadow over his already troubled conscience. What kind of place was this, where children were exposed to such depravity?

"Not for sale!" the greasy man barked at Din, as if reading some unsavory intent in the Mandalorian's eyes, he shielded the child, pushing her back behind a tattered curtain.

“I wasn’t…” Din’s words faltered, the very thought of such exploitation sickening him to his core.

But the foreman, undeterred, eyed Din up and down, his gaze lingering on the gleaming beskar armor. “You’ve got money, I’ve got girls,” the man said, his voice oozing with a repugnant confidence.

Din struggled to find the words, his thoughts a jumbled mess, still reeling from the shock of seeing a child in such a place. He stumbled, his voice faltering.

The foreman, undeterred, went on, "I have a girl who just became available. She's not been with anyone, you'd be lucky to find a deal like her on this side of Tatooine." He reached into a box of hologram pucks, selected one, and placed it on the desk. Activating the hologram, he presented it to Din.

Din's gaze fixated on the static image, his eyes locked on the visage.. Strangely, he felt a deep pull within him, as if your image was both familiar and enigmatic, stirring emotions he couldn't quite place.

"How much?" Din's voice, though filtered through his modulator, held a heaviness, a mix of curiosity and longing.

"Four thousand credits," the foreman stated, avarice evident in his words.

“Four?” Din repeated, incredulous, his disbelief met with a dismissive glance from the foreman. “How much does she get?” he demanded, his tone sharp and unwavering.

The foreman's look turned defensive, his response sharp, "Two thousand. My girls are lucky to get any at all."

Din's resolve hardened, and he leaned in, his voice taking on a threatening edge that he usually reserved for bounties. "I'll pay six thousand, and she gets four thousand."

The foreman's eyes widened, momentarily caught off guard, but a vile smirk soon crept across his face. "Deal. Right this way, sir," he beamed, all too eager to make the transaction.

The foreman led him through a maze of dimly lit hallways filled with disturbing moans and an overpowering, artificial perfume that hung heavily in the air. The cacophony of voices from behind the closed doors was a haunting reminder of the grim reality of this place, and the perfumed scent was a failed attempt at masking the despair that lurked within.

At the end of the corridor, the foreman unlocked a door and gestured for Din to enter. "I'll send her in," he grunted, closing the door behind Din.

Din stumbled into the room, the alcohol coursing through his veins, muddling his thoughts. He took in his surroundings, finding himself in a chamber that seemed a stark contrast to the rest of the establishment. A makeshift bed of luxurious pillows lay on the floor, richly woven tapestries hung from the ceiling, creating a semblance of privacy. Incense burned intensely, casting a hazy atmosphere, a chair rested by the door infront of a towering golden-framed mirror that rest to the right.

This must be a more expensive room, he thought, his mind reeling with the absurdity of it all. He couldn't help but question himself, wondering what he was truly doing here, and if this was the way he wanted to fill the void left by Grogu.

As the room's fakely lavish atmosphere weighed upon him, the door behind him swung open gently. He turned, his movements slow and heavy from his armor, to see you enter. Your form was meek, draped in a light blue silk garment that covered more of your body than the women he had seen in the cantina. Gold metal accents adorned your wrists, ankles, and neck, casting a subtle glow in the dim room.

Din's breath hitched as he observed you, his gaze tracing your figure from your feet to your face. Your flushed face and the nervous way you looked down at the floor beside him made it clear that you were unfamiliar with this line of work. He saw you absentmindedly running your index and middle finger along the material of your flowing skirt.

He couldn't explain it, but something about your vulnerability, the innocence you still carried despite the circumstances, touched him. For a moment, he entertained the thought that the foreman had lied about your experience, but as he watched you in silence, he knew that the greasy man's words were painfully accurate.

Din shifted slightly, causing your gaze to snap to him quickly. His visor concealed his expression, but his body language spoke volumes. He observed for another moment, considering his next move. Slowly, he began to remove his gloves. The process was deliberate, one finger at a time on the right hand of his glove, until he was able to pull it off, revealing his bare hand. His eyes never left yours as he started to work the other glove off, the tension in the room growing palpable.

Your gaze drifted from his visor to his hands, watching intently as the gloves came off. As soon as he removed the gloves, he walked to the chair by the door and set them down gently. Your gaze followed him as he approached, your hand never leaving the doorknob the entire time. It was as if you were waiting for him to make a move, to confirm the fear that had taken root in your heart.

Din stopped a few feet away from you, his gauntleted hand hanging by his side. There was something in his stance, a subtle softening in his normally rigid posture that made you feel he might not be the threat you initially perceived.

He straightened as he turned to face you, extending his tanned and calloused right hand as a peace offering. It hung there in the space between you, a bridge across the vast divide that had separated your worlds. The look you gave him that night pierced through his then-buzzed haze, and as your gaze moved from his visor to the palm of his outstretched hand, you ever so softly smiled.

Your hand moved slowly, with a slight tremble, as you placed it in his. Maker, it was so soft, so... loving. In a way, it reminded Din of his mother's hands. He remembered the feeling of her hands on his face when she would kiss him on the top of his head or brush his hair back. It was a memory buried deep, one he rarely let resurface in the harsh reality of his life.

He watched you, unknowingly holding his breath, as your eyes flitted from his hands back up to his visor.

That night was almost eight months ago, and in the span of those months, the galaxy had shifted beneath Din Djarin's feet. He had fought with Boba Fett, gotten Grogu back, found his covert and embarked on the perilous journey to reclaim Mandalore and his Mandalorian status. The weight of leadership, the responsibilities, and the relentless pursuit of his beliefs had clouded his thoughts, leaving little room for anything else.

As he walked through the dense forest, the guilt that had been gnawing at him grew ever more oppressive. He'd been so preoccupied with his own mission, his people's future, and the legacy of Mandalore that he hadn't even spared a thought in your direction. He had foolishly assumed that the foreman would handle any potential consequences of their night together, perhaps naively believing that you would choose to remain silent. However, what if you hadn't told the foreman? What if you carried something precious from that night, a part of him he was yet to know about? He had neither your name nor any means of contact, and that realization weighed him down like a camtono of beskar.

With every step, the burden of his guilt pressed down upon him, and he mentally berated himself for not knowing your name or sharing his. He deserved this guilt, for in his quest to rebuild his world, he had unintentionally left a piece of himself behind. If you were pregnant, how were you supposed to find him in the vastness of the galaxy? He couldn't shake the thought that he might be a father, and yet he had no way to reach out to you.

Lost in thought and oblivious to his surroundings, Din hadn't even realized that he'd strayed from the trail until a blood-curdling scream pierced through the forest's silence, shattering the walls of his introspection. His eyes darted ahead, and the only thing he saw beyond the thick undergrowth was a rocky precipice. Steam rose from somewhere below, and the scream, unmistakably human, sent a chill down his spine.

—

After doing your best to set up a makeshift camp amidst the unforgiving terrain, the contractions began to increase in intensity and frequency. Drenched in sweat, your body ached with fatigue, and desperation for the comfort of the hot spring surged within you. In your birthing gown, you summoned every ounce of strength to embark on the journey toward the soothing waters.

With slow, measured steps, you made your way to the spring, determined to find solace amidst the throes of labor. The contractions continued to grip you, and you fought to maintain your composure, focusing on deep breaths as you moved closer to the source of relief.

As you neared the milky waters, the soothing sound of the waterfall dumping cool water into the far end of the pool filled your ears. The natural geothermal heat emanated from the earth beneath the water, warming the fresh, chilly stream. You gingerly lowered yourself to the spring's edge, wincing through the persistent contraction that clawed at your strength.

With immense effort, you managed to sit on the edge of the pool, your feet dipping into the perfectly warm water. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as the soothing waters enveloped your aching limbs. Slowly, you eased yourself into the warm embrace of the spring, its shallowness just deep enough for you to sit comfortably, your head above the waterline.

The warmth cocooned you, providing the much-needed respite your weary body craved. In the midst of your struggle, the hot spring became a sanctuary, a place where the pain of labor met the healing balm of nature, and for a fleeting moment, you found solace amidst the turmoil, embracing the precious gift of warmth and comfort in the midst of the wilderness.

You had lost track of how long you sat in the soothing water, your fingers pruning as the serene ambiance of the hot spring washed over you. Contented sighs intermittently left your lips as you found a momentary respite from the relentless contractions. The world around you seemed to blur as the hot spring cradled you in its gentle embrace.

But all too soon, your tranquility shattered like fragile glass. A pained cry tore through the rocky landscape. Your eyes shot open, searching for the source of the distress.

Your gaze darted towards the rugged ridge you had labored to climb mere hours earlier. Two voices reached your ears, one male and one female, carrying on the wind. Panic surged through you as you observed a hand ascending the top of the ridge. Your heart quickened, and you realized there were people approaching, their presence entirely unexpected.

With haste, you sprung up from your spot in the spring, water cascading off your birthing gown as you clambered to the edge of the pool.

A man, seemingly oblivious to your presence, ascended the ridge, a pack strapped to his back. He reached the flat rock and extended his hand below him. Your bare feet met the cold, rough surface of the gravely rock as you hurried over to the edge, your heart heavy with empathy for the woman in dire need. Down below, on the third rock shelf, you saw a woman, her face contorted in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks, and her birthing gown stained with the evidence of her struggles.

“Isa a happis” (I will help!) you called out, your voice resolute, your determination evident. You easily crouched down next to the man, extending your hand to the one who was suffering. She gazed up at you, gratitude filling her eyes as she grasped your outstretched hand.

“Ona tice!” (On Three!) The man standing beside you declared, his voice strong and determined. You locked eyes with him, sharing the gravity of the situation, and both of you prepared to pull the distressed woman to safety. With a shared resolve, he began to count down, and on three, you pulled the woman up with surprising ease, your muscles working in harmony to lift her to safety.

Wide-eyed, she arrived at the top of the landing, blood staining her birthing gown, a visceral testament to the life that sought to enter the world. She cried out in agony, her body in the throes of birthing pains. Your attention shifted to the Illit, his face etched with desperation as he removed his pack, his hands trembling as he tried to assist his manna.

He grabbed her, his touch gentle yet urgent, realizing that there was no time to lose. Even as you watched, you could tell the baby was coming, the process inevitable now. The woman screamed, the sound echoing off the rocky walls, a symphony of pain and life in the midst of nature's raw beauty.

“Noona essa comesei ittina!” (the babe is coming now!) you urgently announce, your voice steady and commanding, as you motion for the father to cease his movements. He gazes at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief, gratitude, and sadness, the emotions palpable in the misty air.

Your own contractions, once so overwhelming, are now distant memories as you shift your focus entirely to the woman and her impending delivery. You position yourself between the woman's legs, and she leans back on her husband for support, the bond of love and trust between them evident in the way they clung to each other during this moment.

With gentle but purposeful hands, you begin to move the gauze of her birthing dress out of the way, revealing the sacred space where the new life is making its entrance into the world. The sight fills you with a profound sense of awe and wonder, the beauty of life in its most raw and unadulterated form.

As you catch the first glimpse of the emerging baby, a smile naturally graces your lips, a radiant reflection of the profound beauty you are about to witness. You look up at the father, sharing a moment of unspoken understanding and connection as you prepare to assist in guiding their child into the world, an act of grace in the heart of nature's splendor.

“Noona essa comesei! Attari noona bassi?” (The baby is coming, the baby cloth?) you urgently conveyed to the father, the intensity of the moment hanging heavy in the air. He blinked, momentarily caught in the whirlwind of emotions before comprehending your words. With careful haste, he gently leaned his wife back, supporting her amidst the agonizing pains as he reached for his pack against the wall.

Desperation etched on his face, he hurriedly threw various items from the bag, scattering them around in his search for the baby cloth. Every passing second felt like an eternity as the mother cried out in pain, her body instinctively bringing forth the baby as your hand supported its head.

Finally, after emptying the entire bag, the Illit father's shoulders slumped in defeat. His frustration boiled over, and he struck the rock wall with his fist, a primal cry of helplessness escaping his lips.

In the midst of this despair, you remained calm, your instincts taking over.

“Asa Passi! Attara noona bassi!” (In my pack! I have the baby cloth!) you shouted at the father, your voice carrying the urgency of the moment. With a quick motion, you pointed to your own pack, signaling where the much-needed baby cloth could be found. Your other hand remained cradling the head of the newborn, offering support and comfort to the laboring mother.

You ran a soothing hand over her leg as she summoned her last ounce of strength, pushing with all her might, and then, in a powerful moment, the babe broke free into the world. The father, having located the cloth meant for your own child in your pack, rushed over, his eyes wide with anxiety. You accepted the plain cloth from him, wasting no time in wrapping the baby in it.

The newborn lay still and silent, not letting out the expected cries that heralded a new life. A sense of despair washed over you, and you shared a helpless glance with the father, both of you fearing the worst.

The mother's wails of agony resonated in the rugged landscape, echoing the heartbreak of a life not granted breath. The anguish in the air was suffocating as she reached for her still baby, her hands trembling. With a heavy heart, you gently transferred the infant to the mother's waiting arms.

She cradled her lifeless child, tears streaming down her face as she caressed the baby, whispering soft words of love and heartbreak. Her cries mingled with those of her husband as they shared the unbearable moment of loss.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you tore yourself away from the heart-wrenching scene of the manna. You felt a surge of emotions, a profound sense of hopelessness, reminiscent of the day you had received the news of your own pregnancy.

—

The anguished screams pierced the rugged terrain, reverberating through the rocky expanse, and Din felt his heart plummet through the soles of his boots. Grogu, sensing the turmoil in the air, cooed softly from the safety of his sling, nestled beneath Din's protective hand.

Carefully and quietly, Din approached the edge of the rocky ridge, his heart pounding with trepidation. As he looked down into the precipitous drop-off, his eyes fell upon a scene that nearly froze his heart in his chest.

Down below, amidst the harsh and unforgiving black surface of the rocky cavern, he saw you kneeling, a stoic presence, between the legs of a pregnant woman who was hemorrhaging profusely. The woman's anguished cries filled the cavern, echoing against the unforgiving walls.

Din's eyes then shifted to a man, who appeared to be the woman's partner, desperately rummaging through a pack, panic etched across his face. You spoke urgently in a language Din didn't understand, the words punctuated by fear and sorrow. The man seemed to heed your words and swiftly abandoned his fruitless search, rushing over to another pack that lay nearby. The man retrieved a gray cloth from the second pack and hurriedly approached where you were crouched.

Din observed, his eyes transfixed, as you, kneeling on the rocky cavern floor, expertly assisted the pregnant woman. With a mix of awe and sadness, he saw you pull a beautiful, newborn baby from the crying mother, delicate and fragile in your hands.

His gaze lingered as you carefully, almost mournfully, opened the grey cloth. To his dismay, he recognized the symbol displayed on it – a mudhorn. It was the very same symbol etched onto his own pauldron, the only identifier that you could tie to him. He watched as you used the cloth meant for your child, his child, to wrap the now purple baby in the blanket with meticulous care.

Cries and sobs filled the air as he watched from his hidden spot on the high cliff above. His sounds were likely muffled by the nearby waterfall, but he felt Grogu pulling at him, desperate for attention. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to look away. He continued to watch, hidden in the shadows.

He observed as you struggled to stand, your belly full with his child, and as you respectfully walked away to what he could now confirm as your pack. He could see the pain etched on your face, the tears in your eyes, and he felt a pang of guilt deep within him. The weight of his past actions pressed heavily on his shoulders.

Din had done a lot of things he wasn't proud of; he'd walked a dark and treacherous path. He had hated himself when he handed Grogu over to the client for a camtono of beskar, but now, seeing you here, in this vulnerable moment, he hated himself more than he had ever thought possible.

The symbol on that blanket, the mudhorn, was a reminder of the choices he had made and the lives he had affected. As he watched you cry softly, he knew he couldn't change the past, but he could choose a different path now, one that might bring redemption and peace.

—

Hours passed by as the mother and her lifeless baby lay on the rocky outcrop. The father, now solemn and determined, prepared the pack for their descent. He spared you a thankful glance as he gently helped the mother stand, their shared grief connecting them. With cautious and uneasy steps, they began their descent down the cliffside.

The mother cradled her unbreathing babe, her heart heavy with loss, as she slowly made her way towards you. With some effort, you rose to your feet and met her halfway. Tears welled up in your eyes as she kissed your cheeks in gratitude.

“Illa-ishi, missa.” (Lonely mothers, sisters.) she said mournfully, her words heavy with the weight of shared sorrow. She placed a gentle hand on your belly, a silent acknowledgment of your pain. Overwhelmed by the emotions of the moment, you couldn't hold back a sob, and the two of you embraced tightly. In that moment, she became your sister in grief, and your shared loss bound you together in a way that words couldn't express.

As she and her husband began their descent, you watched them with a heavy heart. The blanket you had intended for your own child now wrapped around her lifeless baby, providing some small comfort in their time of mourning.

Left alone once more, you couldn't hold back your tears as you watched the husband carefully guide his grieving wife down the steep cliff and out of sight. As they disappeared from your view, a profound sense of isolation settled over you, and you wept softly, your heart heavy with sorrow.

Returning to the healing waters, you couldn't help but notice that your contractions had inexplicably ceased. Confused but hopeful, you gently felt around your belly and were met with a delicate, reassuring movement from within. A smile, albeit a tearful one, graced your face as you carefully lowered yourself back into the pool, ready to embrace whatever destiny the Gods had in store for you.

The sun began its descent, casting a warm, golden glow over the landscape. From your elevated position, you had a perfect view of the sky as it transformed into a breathtaking canvas of purple, pink, and orange ribbons. As you smiled to yourself, entranced by the beauty of nature, an unusual sound suddenly pierced the tranquility of the moment, snapping your attention to the cliff edge. Your heart raced as you strained to identify the source of this unexpected disturbance, a sense of both trepidation and curiosity gripping you.

As if by magic, a form suddenly flipped up onto the solid ground level with the pool. A small, green being emerged, making noises that were nearly drowned out by the roar of the waterfall. Yet, an overwhelming feeling of joy washed over you as you beheld the sight of this tiny creature toddling towards you.

Driven by curiosity and amazement, you pushed yourself up and out of the water. Your birthing gown clung to your body as you moved, but you paid it no mind. Stepping onto the rock, you slowly rounded the corner of the pool to greet the small being.

To your astonishment, you realized it was a baby, with wide, innocent eyes and a furious babble. The baby lifted its tiny hands towards you, and you couldn't help but crouch down as best you could, your heart filled with warmth. "Noona?" you asked the little creature with a soft, amused laugh. In response, the tiny being gave you a toothy grin, and it made you laugh even more.

Your attention, however, shifted from the small being to a pair of gloved hands gripping the side of the rocky cliff. Your breath caught in your throat as you recognized those gloves, and heat rushed into your face. With wide eyes, you watched as a figure clad in silver beskar, a Mandalorian, lifted themselves effortlessly over the cliff face and stood there with an almost regal grace.

From your crouched position, you observed as the green baby waddled over to the Mandalorian and tugged on his shin armor. The Mandalorian, with his helmeted face turned towards the child, bent down to pick up the little one, and you couldn't hide the confusion that replaced your initial joy.

—

Din's eyes remained locked on your form as he swiftly pulled himself up onto the flat surface of the cliff. He saw you kneeling down, fingers outstretched towards Grogu, the shock etched across your face. But his gaze was drawn irresistibly to the wet dress that clung to your swollen belly, a stark reminder of your impending motherhood.

As he felt Grogu tugging at his shin armor, he silently bent down to pick up the child. Still, his eyes remained fixed on you, and he struggled to find the right words to explain this unexpected reunion.

“I... I had a dream,” he finally managed to say, his voice choked with emotion.

Your eyes softened, and he witnessed your composure crumbling before him. Your confused and shocked expression melted into a soft frown as tears welled up in your eyes. Before he fully registered it, his feet carried him closer, and he knelt down in front of you with Grogu still cradled in his arms. He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, hoping to offer some form of reassurance.

"Please... don't cry," he implored softly, the tenderness in his voice evident. However, he watched as you recoiled from his touch, your reaction sharp and violent, like a wounded animal cornered in fear.

—

"Don't cry," his voice was a gentle whisper from behind as he reached out to sweep your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear with his left hand. His thumb, soft and reassuring, brushed away a solitary tear that had collected in the corner of your eye, preventing it from descending down your cheek.

The cold, unyielding embrace of his armor pressed against your back, a constant reminder of his presence, as if he permeated every inch of the room. You lay face down on the makeshift bed within the opulent suite, placed there by him in silence. His helmet tucked against the back of your head as his right hand reached around the front of your body to work open your tight entrance. He smelled like musk, metal, and something floral.

You didn't know his name, and in truth, you knew very little about him. All you knew was that he had paid a considerable sum for your services and bore a mudhorn symbol on his pauldron. The hushed whispers from the other women in the establishment painted a picture of a bounty hunter, a formidable figure who held the favor of the new Daimyo. He was a source of fear and fascination, and the idea of him both terrified and intrigued you. But, above all, you craved freedom more than anything else, and this was a means to an end.

As the moments unfolded, you couldn't hold back the tears that escaped, mingling with a confusing mix of emotions. It wasn't bad; he wasn't unkind. In fact, you found him surprisingly polite. He had said nothing, just removed his gloves and led you to the makeshift bed, where he now pressed into your body from behind.

It felt fine, maybe even surprisingly good, but your stubbornness held strong. You were determined not to give the foreman the satisfaction of knowing you enjoyed the path you had chosen to earn your freedom. The thought of succumbing to pleasure and surrendering to the moment felt like weakness, and you clung to your resolve with unwavering determination.

However, as his fingers moved softly, so softly, you couldn't help but feel your resistance slowly crumbling. Each touch was skillful, and the sensations they evoked were impossible to ignore.

You could feel a pleasure building within you as he continued his careful thrusting into your tightness. His thick fingers curled slightly as his thumb worked your clit. His left hand rests by your head as he made sure to move any hair out of your face. You had no idea if he was watching you through his visor, but you had assumed so because he wiped your tears and told you not to cry. The build up turned into a tightness that needed to be released, he could tell by how hot you’d gotten under him and how your walls fluttered on his fingers.

He felt a pride well up in him at the knowledge that he still had the ability to bring a woman pleasure but also that you’d finally relaxed enough to allow yourself to feel this. He closed his eyes for a moment just to focus on how your walls felt around his fingers, he willed himself to listen to your body. Upon each drawback of his fingers he worked to spread your tight cunt just slightly- three, four, five more thrusts of his fingers and he felt you tremble under him.

His eyes snapped open, and he observed you biting your hand to stifle any sounds. He felt the flutter of your walls on his fingers as he stilled in order to relish in the feel your softness. He watched you come back from wherever you had gone in your high, his hand moving gently to caress the hand you had bitten, the teeth marks already leaving a faint purplish hue. As his thumb brushed over the marked area, he felt the slight tremor in your body, your vulnerability laid bare, and saw the glistening tears welling up in your eyes once more.

“Don’t cry.” he said again before moving to sit back on his heels. He admired your form, the way the flame lit room made your skin look like silk. You were totally bare to him, he’d undressed you slowly and carefully placed your clothing next his gloves on the chair. He was still fully clothed save for the gloves he’d removed. He watched as your form began to stir, and he carefully placed a hand on your lower back to keep you down. You immediately complied. With a sigh he slowly ran his hand down your back to the curve of your ass and to the back of your thigh. He could see the slick from your arousal glimmering in the soft light.

He could see everything, every intimate part of you, and yet he didn’t allow you the joy of seeing him. He couldn’t.

You sat, staring at the wall ahead of you, the seconds feeling like hours, with him seated behind you. The situation was embarrassing, and you could only hope he wasn't disgusted. You had assumed he was finished with you after whatever had just happened, only to be gently pushed back onto the bed, not harshly but rather in a silent, pleading manner. After a moment, you heard him stir behind you, and you froze, your ears attuned to his every movement.

You heard a soft rustling of fabrics and buckles. He came to rest on you again, with his left hand resting by your left hand. His right hand gripped your waist as he shifted you back towards him. This position shifted you more so your backside was resting against his thighs while your chest was flush with the pillows beneath you. He was able to bend over you more like this so he comfortably rested on his left arm above you.

His right hand left your waist and you felt the warmth of his hand in between your legs. You could feel the soft head of his hard cock turn to velvet as he ran it through your slick folds. You clenched the pillow underneath you as you braced yourself for the pain the other women had told you about. You felt pressure against your entrance and instinctively you tried to move away only to feel his hand move like lightning from between your thighs to your waist as he anchored you in place.

He didn’t say anything just held you there as he slowly pushed the head of his cock deeper into your entrance. His grip once iron on your waist turned soft as his thumb brushed circles into the skin there. Slowly he sank deeper and that’s when you felt it, the sharp uncomfortable sting. You tensed under him at the pain and you felt him freeze above you. His left hand moved to grab your face beneath him, turning your cheek so he could see you. You looked over your left shoulder to peer up at him, his cold visor returning your gaze. You couldn't help the tear that fell as you clutched the pillows.

"Don't..." his voice was strained through the vocoder, and you knew he was holding back, for you.

—

"Do not say that to me!" Your pained and thickly accented voice ripped through the air as you swatted his arm away. The green child yelped softly at your sudden movement.

Din's eyes widened. It was the first thing you had said to him. You hadn't spoken a word that night. He recoiled from you in shame.

He watched as you cried, emotions swirling within him like a chaotic storm.

"You shouldn't be out here," he managed to say as he stood abruptly, his words tinged with a mixture of concern and frustration. He glanced around, finally taking in the grim surroundings. Blood still pooled on the rocky ground where the woman had given birth earlier. Even worse, the remains of skeletons lay strewn about, their shattered bones mixed with the gravel under his boots.

"This is a graveyard, not a place for a woman in your condition to give birth," he grumbled, regretting the harshness of his words. The eerie desolation of this place was overwhelming, and he couldn't make sense of anything. The grim reality of death and birth intertwined in this forsaken corner of the galaxy was too much for him to bear.

Your face, your soft, beautiful, and glowing face looked up at him then.

"This is where I am meant to be," your broken voice hit him right in the chest.

For a moment, Din just stood there, his helmeted gaze locked on you. Grogu stirred in his arms and he set the child down. His gaze shifted from Grogu to the pack leaning against the rocky wall, the very same pack he had seen a man carrying at the market, with his wife in tow. It was the same pack he had witnessed being carried by the man who was desperate, carrying his bleeding wife. The pieces of the puzzle began to click into place in Din's mind.

"Did you... carry that alone?" he asked, his curiosity piqued as he looked from you to the pack and back.

You huffed, annoyance coloring your features, and moved to stand. Din instinctively reached out to help you, but you swatted his hand away. You stood, resolute, and locked eyes with him through his visor.

"Yes. I am illa-ishi," you declared firmly, your words laden with meaning.

Din furrowed his brow, confused by the unfamiliar term. "Illa-ishi?" he repeated, the word alien to him.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you realized he didn't understand. "I am a lonely mother," you tried to find the right words that could translate to Basic.

He continued to stare, his helmet giving away nothing. You huffed in frustration and attempted again, simplifying your words. "I am alone." you finally settled on, hoping he would grasp the essence of your situation.

Din just stared at you, seemingly uncomprehending. You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and the green child peered up at you, as if offering a sympathetic glance. Frustrated with the language barrier, you turned to walk towards your pack and bedroll.

As you began to walk away, Din's gloved hand gently gripped your upper arm, stopping you in your tracks. You shot an annoyed look back at him, silently demanding an explanation for his actions.

Din's gloved thumb moved soothingly circles on your arm, his gaze locked on you. He took a moment to search for the right words, his voice barely rising above a gravelly whisper.

"Is...is this mine?" he questioned, his words weighted with uncertainty, his voice low and husky.

Your eyes fixated on his hand caressing your arm, and tears welled up again, threatening to break free. You bit your lip in a futile attempt to hold them back, forcing yourself to look directly into the reflective visor of his helmet. You saw your own tear-streaked face in the cold, mirrored surface of the Mandalorian's armor, and it was a sight that turned your stomach.

"Yes. I've... never been with another. Only you," the confession tumbled from your lips, the words feeling strange and heavy in your mouth. Your body tensed, and you felt a sudden, sharp tightness envelop you, a contraction, your first since the bleeding mother had shown up. You gasp in agony as your knees buckle under you.

"Dank farrik!" Din's initial worry had given way to frustration as he cursed under his breath. He reached out and grabbed you, his gloved hands steadying you gently while Grogu made a sad noise from his perch on the ground.

"We have to get you out of here. Is there a medcenter near here?" His voice trembled with desperation as he crouched down to meet your gaze.

"What?!" You hissed exasperatedly through the pain, your frustration and agony making you bristle.

"Medcenter!" Din almost yelled, and his eyes widened when you shoved him away.

"Issa noona ibaniss a plantissia ata mountina as illa! As illa a ma a iss!" you shouted at him in anguish, your words foreign to his ears but laced with undeniable determination. (My baby will be born on this planet, at the Mountain of Mothers, like my mother and the one before her!)

Din stood there, still as stone, as your scream washed over him.

He looked at you, his gaze falling to your trembling hands, one of them wrapped in blood-soaked gauze. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady himself and regain control.

He was going about this the wrong way. You had climbed the treacherous cliff, your cloth bore the sigil of the Mudhorn, and your pack was identical to the ones the men had carried. You had a well-thought-out plan; he just hadn't been part of it.

With newfound determination, he approached you, taking careful, measured steps. Kneeling down beside you, he spoke softly, his voice filled with genuine concern.

"How do I help you?" he asked, his words breaking through the haze of pain that enveloped you.

You slowly looked up at him through your tears, your eyes locked onto his helmet. For a moment, you were at a loss for words, your mouth slightly ajar as you processed the situation. With a trembling hand, you pointed towards the spring nearby. "Take me there," you said softly, your voice heavy with the weight of your suffering.

In an instant, Din's strong hands found purchase under your knees and behind your back, and he lifted you with great care, not wanting to cause you any harm. You flushed with the ease of him carrying you, a thought flickering across your mind of how much simpler scaling the cliff might have been if he had been there. But you dismissed the thought as quickly as it came, focusing on the immediate task at hand. You wrapped your left arm around the back of his neck and placed your right hand protectively over your belly, the hard surface of his armor uncomfortably pressing against your side as he carried you toward the inviting hot spring.

"I can go from here," you said in thick, broken Basic, attempting to wiggle out of his grasp.

Din regarded you, confusion clear in his eyes as he tried to understand. His gaze alternated between the steaming water and your face. "You want to go in the water?" he asked, as if seeking confirmation.

"Yes, I can go from here," you repeated, pushing against him with a touch of defiance. His grip tightened, surprising you with its strength, and you nearly yelped in response. Shooting him a displeased look, you tried to assert your independence.

"What, and let you slip?" he asked, gazing at you through his visor before looking ahead. "No." He had made up his mind, and there was no arguing with the Mandalorian's decision.

As you were lowered into the hot spring, the initial shock of the water's heat gave way to a soothing relief. Din was surprised by how inviting it felt, and he understood why pregnant women sought refuge in such places. The water enveloped his boots and rose just above his knees as he carried you into the pool. You held onto him with a newfound intensity as he descended, afraid that he might lose his footing. Your disbelief mixed with gratitude as you realized the extent of his support.

Finding solid ground beneath the water, Din gently released your knees, allowing your feet to dip into the warm embrace of the pool. His hand slid from your back to your waist, ensuring your stability, and he positioned himself behind you in the water. You stood just below his chin, and if he desired, he could easily rest his chin on your head. His right hand remained on your waist, his gloved fingers splayed out on your side, providing you with a reassuring and protective presence.

A powerful surge of emotion overcame Din as he felt the subtle movements of the life within you under his fingertips. He stood there, motionless and transfixed, as you faced away from him, both of you submerged in the comforting warmth of the spring. His eyes traced the contour of your back, the gentle rise and fall as you breathed, and then slowly, as if compelled by an invisible force, he found himself resting his forehead against the back of your head, his helmet touching your soft hair.

He grappled with where to place his left hand, uncertain of the right way to provide comfort. His gaze drifted downwards, fixating on the water where he saw your dress floating softly as it began to soak in the pool. Carefully, he moved his left hand to the small of your back, gripping the back of your waist with a gentle touch.

In the midst of his turmoil, a soft, barely audible sob escaped his lips, and tears welled up inside his helmet, tracing their way down his cheek. "I'm sorry," he uttered, his voice broken and full of guilt. It was a plea for forgiveness, an attempt to convey the overwhelming regret that consumed him. He clung to your form, feeling the life inside you, the life he had a part in creating and then abandoned.

His wallowing in self-recrimination was shattered by the sound of your voice and the tender touch of your hand as it caressed his right hand.

"Don't cry," your words were soft and filled with sincerity. In that moment, as the tears flowed within his helmet, you offered him understanding and forgiveness. He felt worthy of neither.

#din djarin x pregnant reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin #mando #the mandalorian #mando x reader #star wars #star wars the mandalorian #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

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din-miller · 1 year

Text

Yaihadla

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Word count: 800+

Summary: Pregnancy is a wonderful, beautiful thing. Breast tenderness, not so much. It's a good thing you have a caring husband to take care of you

Warnings: fluff, pregnant reader, female reader, married couple, implications to sexy times, nonsexual nudity, title means pregnant in mando'a

You thought the worst part of being pregnant was the insecurity that came with the weight gain of growing another life inside you. It's not. Though you'd rather take that over this any day of the week. Din can chase away any insecurities you have but he can't chase away the tenderness of your breasts.

Though Din is nothing but persistent and would gladly try to kiss away the pain.

Normally you'd indulge him in his 'you can make anything better with a few kisses' method of fixing every problem, but right now the brushing of your nightshirt against your hardened nipples is making you want to scream bloody murder. You shift in the co-pilot's seat, leaning forward a tad so your shirt falls from your skin without causing a scene.

"Is something wrong?"

You glance up at your husband, meeting the back of his helmet. You blush at being caught. While you might be a good bounty hunter you can never sneak things past Din. You straighten up, toying with the hem of your shirt as you ask, "Would you mind if I take my shirt off?"

Your husband's grip on the Razor Crest's throttle slips at your words, making the ship jerk to the side. His head snaps your way and he chokes out; "I'm sorry?"

"My breasts are sore," You explain and slowly lift up the bottom of your shirt, giving him a clear view of your panties and a sliver of your rounded stomach. When all he does is stare in your direction, you repeat yourself, "Would you mind if I take my shirt off?"

"Would I mind…" Din trails off in disbelief, words stumbling over each other as he continues, "No, I-I have no, um, no complaints here. Whatever makes you feel comfortable, mesh'la."

You can't see his expression but you know his eyes are blown wide – half from shock, half from rapidly growing lust – and his mouth parted, tongue unconsciously wetting his lips.

"I think I'll forgo wearing a shirt to bed tonight too. The material is irritating my breasts." You sigh, shifting in discomfort again. You know your husband wouldn't mind in the slightest if you fully strip naked and strut around the ship.

If you weren't so sore you might have actually done so. Unfortunately all you can manage is the lamest strip tease in history as you awkwardly tug your shirt over your head, wincing when the fabric brushes over your nipples.

Din's chair is spinning towards you before you can even blink, his arms resting on his knees as he leans forward. You let a cocky grin slip across your features, throwing your shirt at his gawking helmet. He catches it and tosses it aside without any remorse. His helmet follows, then his shirt is next to add to the growing pile.

"Ner cyar’ika, your beauty is beyond words," He pushes himself from his chair, kneeling between your parted legs. One hand freely dances along the stretched skin of your belly, and the other paws at the side of your thigh, "The shape of you with my ad’ika brings me to my knees time and time again."

You have to clench your jaw because now is not the time for hormones to trigger tears. If you start crying now, having said to Din that you're sore, he'll start fretting over you.

His eyes drift from your face to lazily trace the curves of your swollen breasts. Transparent lust swallows his pupils and threatens to ignite a fire inside you.

You know this isn't going to go anywhere tonight. Even if your hormones change and you want to jump his bones until you're boneless and satisfied; you've already expressed your discomfort and Din's too much of a good man to give in to his own burning desires knowing it would end up with you in more pain.

Din's hand comes to lightly trail a path following his greedy eyes, avoiding touching your sensitive nipples as they drag across the skin of your breasts, "They've gotten bigger, ner kar'ta."

You glance down at them too, "Have they?"

He hums and gently cups both of them, "Mmm, heavier too. When you're not feeling sore I'm going to kiss the pain away. For now how about we turn in for the night? I'll even sleep up here if it's more comfortable for you."

"You know the baby doesn't like when you're not in bed with us," You gesture for him to help you up, "We don't sleep well unless you're holding us. Protecting us."

Din pulls you up and spins you around so your back is pressed against his chest. His left hand finds yours and brings them both to lay over your bump. His other hand trails up your thigh until it finds his favourite prize. He gives the elastic band of your panties a snap, mouth hot against the skin of your neck as he smirks, "These coming off too?"

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin #married couple | the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x female reader #mandalorian fic #justice joy writes #pregnant reader #tw: implications to sexy times

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xmissrogersx · 29 days

Text

Brown Curls | Din Djarin

tags: a lot of Fluff. Grogu’s being adorable like always. Domesticy and family.

my writing is entirely my own. Any adaptation and/or copy is forbidden.

i hope you are enjoying my stories! U help me a lot if you give me a ♡! All the love.

-Hi baby, are you hungry? -I leaned down to take the kid in my arms, to which he responded by raising his little hands to my face, making me laugh.

-Well, let's see what we can have for breakfast.

I began to improvise a breakfast with the few things that were in the ship's kitchen. I was to tell Din that we had to make a stop in Nevarro to buy more provisions.

-And by the way, where is your father? -I asked my little boy, who only had his attention on the blue cookies he was devouring with fervor.

I went down to the Crest in search of the brown-haired man, to find him in the bathroom in front of the mirror with a pair of scissors in hand.

-Din, what are you doing? -I frowned.

-Hi mesh'la —he turned around, to which I had to cover my mouth from my gasp of surprise.

My poor Mandalorian had made a bit of a mess of his beautiful hair, leaving it very short in the front and uneven on the sides.

-I know, I thought I could do it myself. I always trimmed it myself, but I guess I couldn't handle the amount I was going to have to cut…

I crossed my arms and bowed my head, then approached him.

-Let me help you. I know you always did it yourself, but you don't have to do it anymore, you can ask me.

Din smiled, I took the scissors and started to cut the strands of his hair. I snorted under my breath, faking a moan as I removed the long curls I loved so much.

-Mesh'la, it will grow back —he comforted me, as he tightened his arms around my waist, giving me a little bit of a kiss.

-I know... It’s just… I love your hair, Din. Your curls are beautiful. But I know you must get hot looking like that when you put on the that bucket —I finished my lament, eliciting a chuckle from him and earning a pinch on my thigh.

I continued doing the job for 15 minutes. When I finished I took a step back admiring my work of art.

-Ready, ¿what do you think?

He stared at himself in front of the mirror amazed at the result. I bit my lower lip nervous that he wouldn't like it. However, all fear vanished when I saw him smile slightly.

-What do you think? —he asked, sitting me on his lap, to which I frowned in amusement.

-I don't know, I'll have to get used to seeing you with this new look —he pulled me closer to him, our foreheads pressed together.

-How about now? —Our closeness let me contemplate his brown eyes that drove me so crazy since the day he had revealed himself to me.

-Din Djarin, you look stunning, whatever cut you have. You are beautiful. But please, ¿could you grow it a little longer when you're my riduur?

He laughed at my desperate request. In 4 weeks we would go to Sorgan to get married in that beautiful place where a year ago he broke his Creed for me.

I already loved him before I saw his face, but I must say he exceeded all my imagined expectations of what he looked like.

-It's okay, Mesh'la, I promise.

I took his face in my hands and brought our breaths together, melting into one. By the creator, I was addicted to his lips.

I sat hanging from him, to which Din descended his hands, caressing my thighs.

I began to trace a path of small kisses from his jaw down his neck.

-Mesh...Priya...if you keep doing that I'm not going to be able to contain myself, and well you know a certain womp rat is up in the cabin awake.

-You're right...¿how long until we get to Nevarro? -I asked him, resting my hands on his chest.

-About 10 hours —he answered confused by my question.

-Make it 7, and I'll use the handcuffs you use in the bounties —I whispered in his ear, causing him to shiver slightly under me.

-I'll make it 4 —he said seriously, to which I kissed his cheek.

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feminempreg · 1 year

Text

time to give him more kids

#star wars #the mandalorian #mandalorians #din djarin #din djarin x reader #meme #starwars meme #pedro pascal #mpreg #get him pregnant

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writerlyhabits · 2 years

Note

Din’s partner figures out they’re pregnant, and is terrified. They aren’t married, this is the worst time possible, Din already has so much responsibility on his shoulders. But they have to tell him. Because Din deserves to know. She’s terrified of what his reaction might be, if he’d be angry, or excited, or dismissive, etc.

How do you think that scene plays out?

AN: I loved this prompt so much. I haven’t written anything like this yet, but is 100% in line with the unwritten fics in my head 😂And honestly, I think we all deserve a wholesome wonderful moment with this absolute sweetheart. Thanks to @deceiverofgodss for beta reading and brainstorming for our dear Mandalorian 💛 I hope you enjoy!!

Content Disclaimer!! This is a story about pregnancy, and most of it was written a few weeks ago, so there is mention and discussion of termination and/or carrying it to term. If that makes you uncomfortable, or you’d rather not think about that right now, please do not read. But if you wanna escape to a world without recent political events, me too friends, lets go ✨

Warnings: mild cursing, pregnancy, discussion of termination, helmetless Din (I had to i'm sorry), med center/hospital setting, nervous reader, its a little angsty and about a serious topic but otherwise I can't think of any warnings? Please let me know if I missed any!!

Word count: 3k - 4.2k (there’s a split ending…)

“As you’ll be able to see on your scan, you’re in perfect health,” the Med droid explained in its cheerfully programmed inflection, and you took the chip from its outstretched limb to plug into your data pad. Din had always found them eerie, but after enough check-ups on your adventures, their strangely soothing presence was starting to grow on you. “All cuts have healed, no internal or neural injuries, and the baby is doing well.”

Your brain short-circuited as your data pad illuminated your face, snapping your head up at the droid.

“What?”

“You sustained no neural injuries, and all-”

“No, not that. Did you say baby?” you snapped. You’re usually much nicer with the med droids, but right now your mind is swirling and it just needs to get to the damn point.

“Your little one is five weeks along, and in perfect health. It’s too early to determine much, but its heart seems to be forming very strong!” Your throat felt tight as you listened with a blank expression, looking down at the scan in your hands it kept referring to. You zoomed in on the model of your body, right to your abdominal region, and saw a handful of popup passages link themselves to…

A baby.

“At this stage, they are no bigger than a citrus fruit seed, and just starting to develop essential systems. You may be feeling some of the effects already…” You tuned out the droid as it droned on about sensitivity to smell and other elaborate terms for the classic, bordering on cliche symptom; morning sickness.

It definitely explained why you’d been so queasy the last few times you made the jump to hyperspace, and why you had felt sick when Din had prepped your favorite ration pack. The smell was so intense, but you couldn’t figure out how to explain what it was that made it so off-putting. Your sweet Mandalorian had been so attentive, trying to figure out what it was that seemed to be affecting you, only you. At least you could give him an answer now.

How the hell were you going to tell him?

"I sense a shift in your demeanor. Is this news unpleasant?" The droid’s concerned – though mechanical– voice pattern took you out of your thoughts, and you did your best to put on a fake smile but it didn’t stay there long.

"No, I just- well… I don't know,” you rambled, looking back down at the pad in your hands. You couldn’t stop looking at it, both in awe of the fact that a baby is growing inside of you… and nervous about how your partner would respond.

You knew Din inside and out. You knew what each tilt of his helmet meant, the meticulous steps he took when removing his armor, you felt like you could hear the thoughts in his head as they appeared. You fit to him as if you were a layer between the Beskar that protected him from the outside world, and the heart beating underneath it, and that’s just where he liked you. But now?

You weren’t married. You drove in separate cruisers after having lost the Razor Crest. You had no home and hardly any money, keeping Grogu safe in this crazy life you two led was challenging enough. For the first time in a long time, you had no idea what Din would think.

"It's normal to be nervous. You will find information about prenatal care installed on the chip, information for termination, and resources for support. You are not alone."

Dank farrik… there it was, clear as day. You were either going to care for this child, or you weren’t. Either way, you’d have to make a choice. And you didn’t exactly have all the time in the world to do it with Din waiting for you outside, and a baby actively starting to form inside you.

“Oh… thank you,” you said lamely, not sure what else to do as your brain seemed just to start filling with thoughts in every direction.

"I still sense some unease... are you safe in your home?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes… yes!” You were quick to assure the droid so as not to start running through any of their pre-programmed protocols on dealing with unsavory hospital guests. It was a sneaky code you’d found installed in the droids at any med center worth a damn, the prime loophole objective being to ensure a safe environment for all patients.

You’d learned this the hard way once on some big city planet, Din’s rough Beskar exterior intimidating a good many of the people he passed, which left you doing extensive scans on your own before you could go through the ordeal of bypassing the protocol. He’d been so worried about you that day; even after being escorted away and held in an interrogation room, his only concern had been about you.

“My partner is… he’s wonderful, I couldn’t be in better hands,” you gushed, relieved when you could tell the droid was making no move to act. “It just caught me by surprise, I guess. I don't uh… well, I don’t quite know what to do."

"Informing your partner may allow them the opportunity to support you, but if you feel you are unable to do that, there are more resources we can provide to you,” It explained not unkindly.

“No, I’ll tell him. Thank you.”

But that was easier said than done.

Your body was moving but your mind was numb as the droid led you out into the hallway, immediately noticing the large wall of shining silver that shot up out of one of the seats, a green bean secure in the bag on his shoulder. A bag… why did either of you start putting him in a bag? That can’t hardly be comfortable. What if he hits his little head? Where were these thoughts coming from?

You braced for impact, mustering the energy to face them with a reassuring smile as you reached out for the little one, holding him close to your chest. Goddamn hormones… Little hands on either side of your face and a soft coo from Grogu, and you had to fight so incredibly hard to keep from getting emotional over his big eyes.

“Mesh’la, how did it go?” Din voiced as he took you in his arms, one hand at your hip while the other rested across his foundling’s back in your arms. You picked up on the way he said the Mando’a word, a nickname he’d given you that never fails to make you smile; he’s nearly whined it, clearly not a fan of the way they opted to keep the rest of your crew waiting outside. He liked to be right where the action was, knowing he could protect you at any chance you needed him, whether it was in battle or in the examination room.

“It’s uh… good. Everything is good,” you managed, doing your best to tame his need to watch over you while navigating your own nerves. You could tell by the slight cock of his helmet that he wasn’t buying it, he knew something was off. The man knew you too damn well. He looked up at the med droid and nodded to assure it that you were safe in his hands, and only once it had left the vicinity did he speak up again.

“What’s going on? Talk to me,” he pleaded softly, his grip on you never faltering, and acting as a sort of tether to reality. Your heart was caught in your throat, and you did your best to swallow it down just enough to calm his immediate worries.

“Everything is fine, I’m fine, I just…” You stared at your own reflection in the darkness of his visor, trained on you as he was no doubt scouring your features for any hint of what was preventing your usual cheery and comforting attitude from surfacing like it normally would in these situations. You had always been excited to leave the med centers, scooping up your foundling and dragging your Mandalorian out the doors.

“Do you want to go back to the Inn? Or do we need to find a place here?” he asked calmly, his deep voice familiar and soothing as it came through the modulator. Maker, did you love him… Always at your beck and call, reading you like an open book.

“The Inn.” He gave a short nod to your response and stayed close as he led you out the door.

You weren’t staying far, it would have normally been a very short walk but you were sure you weren’t the only one affected by the anticipation, making it feel like a destination that couldn’t come into view soon enough. You held Grogu securely in your arms, rubbing a hand across his back as he gurgled contentedly, playing with the necklace Din had gotten you a few planets back. Din’s hand between your shoulder blades allowed you to keep your focus on the swamp rat in your arms, trusting him to lead you safely through the streets of the quaint town.

“Me'vaar ti gar?” He asked after a while, a question you recognized; the Mando’a equivalent of ‘how are you,’ but meant exactly as such. He used the foreign phrase when he wanted a straight answer from you, no fluff, no beating around the bush, and no judgments in return.

“Naas,” you quickly replied with what he’d taught you to be the complacent response, a confirmation that nothing had changed. “I just want to be somewhere quiet,” you continued, trying to communicate your sense of urgency without worrying him about the reason. His gloved hand rubbed a gentle circle across your back, doing what he could to soothe you.

“We’re almost there, mesh’la.” He pulled you a little closer, and his pace picked up a little, going as fast as he could while making sure you could keep up in a comfortable stride.

What could only have been a ten-minute walk felt like an eternity, and you only realized you’d been holding in tight breaths once you crossed the threshold into your small room and felt relieved enough for air to properly fill your lungs again. But with your ease of breath, your mind began reeling again, feeling much like you had the first moment you’d stepped out into the hall to find him waiting for you.

The weight in your arms lifted as Grogu happily went to his father, deposited onto the cocoon of blankets and toys that had been made for him when your party had first arrived. Then you watched in what felt like slow motion as Din began removing his gloves, discarding the excess bulk on his body now that you could settle into your private space, and turned to find you still standing just inside the doorway.

“You’re worrying me, cyar'ika,” he spoke softly, just barely coming through the helmet in a smooth transmission. His warm hands found yours, encompassing them as he led you towards the bed in the middle of the room. “Are you ready to tell me what’s going on?”

You were gonna have to, sooner or later. As he spoke, your mouth felt dry, hands clammy, and you couldn’t have uttered anything coherent even if you’d wanted to. But you watched with adoration as he tilted his helmet up to meet your eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed while he waited patiently for some kind of sign.

Words weren’t going to get you anywhere, you didn’t have any to help you.

You nodded gently to give him a response, before slowly slipping your hands out of his large ones. He kept his palms open to signal his willingness to listen and receive, and it made you melt. You reached around to grab the data pad from earlier, opening up your medical scan – the collection of pixels in your abdomen a beacon now that you knew it was there – and placed the device in his hands.

He hesitated before looking down at the pad in his hands, and you could tell that for a moment, he was confused about what he was looking at. One hand began perusing the scan, pinching in to take a closer look at the details starting from the top down. Always so methodical… but in this instance, he had permission to skip about. Your head, your shoulders, and your chest passed the screen. He stopped to read the passage about your heart, fingers hovering delicately as he read the positives.

And then you saw the familiar set of passages appear, his hands freeze, and your heart skip.

The baby.

Your baby.

His baby.

You couldn’t take your eyes off the screen as you saw his helmet look up to you in your peripherals. Your chest felt tight, but you kept your composure, lest you worry him about the wrong thing.

“Five weeks… Was that…?”

“Naboo,” you answered. A faint smile hit the corner of your lips as flashes of the trip entered your mind; lush greens, clear waters, as tempting a place as ever to let loose with your Mandalorian. He’d been on too many hunts that had taken a toll on his body, and it hadn’t taken hardly any convincing for him to let you take care of him... “I went in on the first day of the trip, my ear was bothering me. I think-”

“The meds must have counteracted your…” he started at nearly the same time you would have finished it for him. Your wonderful, clever, observant lover, getting to the root of your surprise crew member in mere moments. “Pregnant?” He breathed, like he couldn’t believe what was happening. You didn’t know how to interpret it.

“Pregnant.”

“How long have you known?” You could only manage to shake your head slowly; you hadn’t known.

You stared at each other for Maker knows how long, and you were only briefly aware of the fact that he’d set the data pad aside before watching his shoulders rise and fall with a shaky breath, holding his hand out to you. You let him pull you into his lap, the familiar feeling of his thigh plates against the back of your legs as you straddled him, hands resting tentatively against the beskar on his chest.

A shiver ran down your spine as he started rubbing circles on your back, and you could tell there was a lot going on inside that helmet, you just wished you knew what. The uncertainty was killing you. Din had to have felt it because it didn’t take long for him to rest his forehead against yours. The cool of the beskar was relaxing, and the intimacy urged you to close your eyes and release the breath you were holding.

“I’m sorry.”

“What could you possibly have to be sorry about?” His brashness contrasted his words and intent, something that had startled you when you first met. Now it was a comfort, not having to guess what was going on; he meant what he said, and he said it with purpose. It was something you had admired about him for a long time.

“This is… I didn’t see this coming,” you continued with a quiet and shaky voice. The tears couldn’t be far behind as your body was coming down from its high, all of your emotions crashing down on you with a brutal force. “Din, I’m sorry. I’m so-”

“Don’t you dare apologize for this.” His voice was quiet but it was strong, full of conviction. Somehow, it steadied you. His body shifted ever so slightly, and you could tell that he was looking at you through his visor as your foreheads touched, though you still couldn’t open yours. “We did this together. Everything that happens with this… we do together. We take responsibility together.”

You couldn’t stop your tears from falling now. The pad of his thumb brushed over your cheek to stop it from trickling very far, and he held the back of your neck as he tucked you into the crook of his neck, tilting his head up for you to fit comfortably in the space.

“I’ll be here, no matter what you choose. I’ll help you raise this child, to be the father it deserves… if that is what you wish.” He hesitated for a moment, and if you trusted your ears, he took in a difficult breath. “And if you don’t, I’ll be beside you at every step. But this first choice is yours, mesh’la.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Exactly the opposite.” You stilled for a moment, feeling his chest rise and fall with his deep breaths, knowing he was making a strong effort to keep them so even. “I… Children – and foundlings – are the way of the Mandalore. But… but it is something you must choose, for yourself and for the child in your care. It cannot be forced, it diminishes the choice to follow the Resol’nare…”

“This is the way,” you said quietly, assuming that would be what followed after his explanation. It was not the first time he had shared the intricacies of his lifestyle, nor would it be the last, and it had given you the ability to admire his choice to follow his creed. But as you expected him to say the well-used phrase, he was silent.

“The decision is yours to make. And I will be here to help you, whatever you choose. This is the way.” You rose from your spot tucked into him, sitting straighter to be able to look into the black of his visor, already trained on you. Your heart jumped in your throat as you imagined what expression might be hiding on the face behind the mask.

Though you supposed he was probably glad he was wearing it, forcing you to have to make up your own mind as your reflection stared back at you, thoughts teeming about what to do with the little one developing inside you.

“Everything that happens with this, we do together,” you started, finding a semblance of courage to pick your voice up barely above a whisper. You brought your hands to either side of his helmet as if you were cupping his face in your hands, bracing both of you for what came next. “What do you want to do, Din?”

“That’s not my-”

“I know what I want,” you cut him off, surprising yourself with the gumption your words had found. “But only if you want to do it with me. What do you want?”

The room was covered in a blanket of silence so thick that you were certain a war could have broken out outside and you wouldn’t have been able to hear it. Your heart was thumping in your ears as Din seemed to be looking over you with that meticulous eye of his, one hand holding you close while the other caressed your cheek.

“Please, ner’karta…” he just about whined, his grip tightening on you as your hands flew to his neck, pulling him close for another Keldabe kiss.

You were having a baby.

“We’re having a baby,” you managed through the smile spreading across your cheeks, disrupting the path of the tears beginning to fall. You heard his chuckle break through the modulator, and couldn’t help but return it.

When his hands left your body you instinctively sat back, though you closed your eyes just as quickly as you had opened them when you saw his hands move to the lip of his helmet, a familiar dance the two of you had shared time and time again. Lips ghosted across yours, the prickly scruff on his cheeks tickling your skin as your hands flew to his messy curls.

“Mesh’la… open your eyes.” If it hadn’t been for his lips crashing into yours, you would have retorted back. Instead, you sat in a confused sort of bliss as he poured his soul into you, simultaneously breathing in your very essence. “Please, I want you to see me.”

“Your creed-”

“I am already on my way to restore the living waters of Mandalore for that creed. My foundling has seen my face when I feared I would never see him again.” You started to squirm at the implication of his words, and his strong hands found you again to ease your thoughts, tangling one in your hair as the other found a home resting gently over your abdomen. “I think the mother of my child has the right to see me, just this once… before we are married.”

Against every instinct you had taught yourself during your relationship with Din, those words made your eyes flutter open.

And Maker he was beautiful.

Warm, expressive brown eyes looked up at you from under concerned brows as he put his heart in your hands. Your eyes danced across his features, finally getting to see the prominent nose and pouty lips you had felt so many times before. As you brought your hands up to play with the scruff on his cheeks, his lips curled up in a smile that made something warm bloom inside of you, your own smile growing with it.

“Do you like what you see, cyar’ika?” he giggled, and you felt it rumble through his chest. Instead of answering you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, delighted when you leaned back and watched his eyes flutter back open from your affection.

“You want to marry me?” you replied, and the blissed-out expression faded from his face for half a second to don a more serious one. Being graced with the opportunity to look upon your lover's face had made you realize how expressive he was, wearing his emotions plain as day the second they came to him. You figured that must have been a benefit to wearing the helmet for so many years.

“I have for a while.” He spoke so reverently, gazing upon you like you were the Maker herself. But even in such a tender moment, you couldn’t refrain from poking fun at your Mandalorian.

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?” His smile returned as he released a breath of amusement, shaking his head softly as you continued. “Don’t let this baby force you into anything you-”

“I have wanted to marry you, to remove my helmet in front of you, for a long time. I was saving up to take you away, ask you somewhere you’d always wanted to go,” he admitted, and you were basking in his ramblings. As a man of so few words, you loved when he shared his with you, when he let you into the head on his broad shoulders.

“What were you waiting for?”

“We picked up a womp rat. Kind of threw off my timeline.” He gave a disgruntled look in the direction of his green child, still happily playing with the toys in his little cocoon in the time your world had been torn down and rebuilt in front of him. “I’m not about to let this child keep me from it any longer.”

You giggled as his grip shifted down to focus on your abdomen, overjoyed with the situation you found yourself in, happy and cozy with your little mismatched family. Din began to laugh with you, holding you closer to him as he stood from the bed and turned to lay you down gently amongst the pillows. He made to crawl over you, but something stopped him, getting back to his feet and walking over to the chair opposite Grogu.

Before you could ask what he was doing, he began the process of removing his beskar, which you were all too familiar with. Propping yourself up on your elbows you watched him meticulously release every strap, weapon, plate, and vambrace. He caught your glance and gave you a boyish grin as he untucked the duraweave top and lifted it over his head.

“Din, I love you, but are we really doing this right now? I mean, Grogu is right there,” you teased, the foundling perking his ears and looking over at you as you said his name. Your snarky comment earned you a deep belly laugh as he shook his head exasperatedly, making his way back over to the bed.

“I want to hold you. I don’t want to hurt the baby,” he said seriously as he crawled over you once more, settling himself between your legs so that he could be closer to your stomach, lifting your shirt and resting his bare arms on either side of your hips.

“I don’t think the armor would have-”

“They need skin-to-skin contact, mesh’la.”

“After they’re born, Din.”

“Well I’m going to start now,” he argued with conviction, a playful grin on his handsome face as you laughed at his antics. But your heart melted when his lips met your stomach, a series of soft pecks scattered across every inch he could reach, and going back over again when your fingers began toying with his soft curls.

Din had told you once about an Mando’a phrase, jatne manda. He had said it was a specific way to describe your good mood, “a complex sense of being at one with your clan and life.” When Grogu had come to you, you thought you understood what that meant. But just as you once thought you couldn’t love Din in any greater capacity, you were proven wrong. This moment, was your jatne manda. And you were certain, with another little warrior on the way, you would find more moments just like this. This is the way.

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triplehmunson · 1 year

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𝙋𝙊𝙑: You and your husband Pedro have a video call since he is away filming the third season of "The Mandalorian" the two begin to tell each other how the week went and he tells you that he misses you very much and that he has not stopped thinking about you at all times, you were going to surprise him when he returned that you were pregnant, you wanted to give him a small advance but the director called him and unfortunately he had to end the call, but not before blowing you a kiss and telling you that he loves you with all his heart heart. 🥹🫶🏻

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foomoosworld · 3 months

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Stars Too Far

CHAPTER 14 - Shy-Tan Djarin

Mandalorian X Fem Reader

The Mandalorian is trapped on a deadly planet, escapes, and finds out secrets about his Mandalorian history that changes the ways of his people and his life but leaves him running for his life and the life of his child and Riduur.

Minors DNI. Smut, fluff, dirty, dirty thangs. So. Many. Dirty. Thangs.

It had been a long and boring 24 hours in the Razor Crest. Din was unsure if he could approach you because you were so mad about leaving Mayfeld behind. You understood, for the security of your child that you couldn’t have outside influences. The reality of everyone being a danger had sunk in for you. But Din was still unsure if you understood. He hung around corners and opted to leave the room when you entered to give you space, which seemed to you like him being standoffish and petty.

He was running daily diagnostics when you walked into the cockpit.

He tilted his head up to you and gingerly asked,

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I want to vomit consistently and this little fucker keeps kicking me like it’s a routine to make me have pain.”

“Well, we’ll be on Mandalor in two days. You can just relax once we're there.Can you hold out until we get there?”

You jump as you feel another pain and grunt out loud.

Din extends an arm and his gloved hand pulls you in to sit on his lap.

“I love you.” he whispers as he holds you.

“I love you t-” Suddenly you jump up from Din’s lap.

“What’s wrong?” He questions.

“I think they just kicked my liver into my chest.-” You hold your stomach then cry out again in pain.

Din jumps to his feet and wraps his arms around you.

“No…. I’m okay. Just a bad kick.” You wave him off.

Water hits the floor with a crash.

You look up to Din, terrified.

“What just happened?” You ask with fear racing through your words. Din knows, but can’t manage to find words either, “What’s happening?” You beg.

Din grabs you and eases you down to the ground.

“Our baby is coming.” He says laying you back. He pulls his cape off and mounds it under your head as a pillow. “Are you comfortable?” He shakily asks.

“I haven’t been comfortable for months.” You say as the pain eases away like pulling a sheet from your body. Din strokes your cheek to try to soothe you.

“We’re landing on the closest planet and going to a doctor. You’ll be okay.” He softly whispered. You nod then he pulls himself up and takes the controls of the Razor Crest, angling it down towards the first planet within view.

……………

Din threw a black hooded cloak around you as he led you into the city in search of a doctor. Letador was the worst place to try to find help. It was comprised of thieves and drug lords. He tried his best to shadow you from the onlookers but there was no doubt by their curious looks at The Mandalorian that they were on the lookout for him and you.

“Aaaah!” you screamed as your contractions overtook you and forced you to a sudden hault in the street. Din gathered you in his arms and pulled you close to his chest and looked around, seeing people turning to look at you. This was gathering too much attention.

“Follow me…” He whispered to you as he wound his way through alleyways, you stumbling and faltering in his grasp as he urged your forward.. You came to a full stop and shouted out in pain and Din realized there was no more moving forward from this point. He wildly looked around and saw a dilapidated wood board covering a hole in the wall of an abandoned, concrete, factory building. He gently sat you down to lean, huffing and puffing through your pain and grasping your stomach, against the wall of the factory then pulled the board away to reveal a bashed out hole in the side of it creating an entrance..

You called out in white hot pain again as you sat in the alleyway. Din rushed to your side and pulled you to your feet trying to shush you as he guided you into the abandoned building.

“I don’t want to give birth here…” You panted, terrified as Din led you from room to abandoned room trying to find the most buried room in the building where, hopefully, no one would hear.

“I want a doctor…” You begged.

“”I’m sorry, this is what we have right now…” Din said exasperated, “We need to get you as far away from people that can hear you as possible.”

You nod as he leads you into the next room. You fall to your knees, screaming and clutching your stomach.

“Din!” you finally manage to shout out as you reach your hand out to find his. His gloved hand holds yours tightly as his visor dodges around to try to find resources to help deal with you possibly giving birth here. You crumple onto the concrete, cracked and chipped floor and look terrified into his visor.

He’s never seen you so scared and it pierces his soul. He just wants you to feel some comfort but there’s nothing he can do. He reaches up and unlatches his helmet and there is a hiss of it depressurizing. He drops it to one side and you look into his chocolate brown eyes.

“Am I going to die?” your voice wavers with tears now streaming down your face..

He takes your face in both of his hands and slowly shakes his head.

“I won’t let you go.” He kisses your forehead then clenches your hand harder.

You scream out in pain as your next contraction moves. Din moves behind you and pulls you to sit up against him on the wall..

You scream again, covered in sweat.

“Something is wrong!” You shout.

Din’s mind immediately races to the doctor’s warnings of a breech birth. He trembles, but holds your hand and curls his body around yours as you push.

“You can do this.” He whispers to you as you shiver in pain.

…………….

Inside a backpack, inside an abandoned building, on a forgotten planet full of thieves and criminals there was a red flashing light.

Mayfeld watched his tracking device as it blinked faster and faster until it led him to an abandoned building. He was confused as he spun around, trying to find the entrance then moved aside the plywood board to enter the structure. He watched the flashing light on his tracker work faster and faster until finally it was a steady tone. He looked up.

The Mandalorian sat against the grey, dirty wall with a bundle in his arms Next to him was a bundle of rags and a plastic tarp with legs sticking out and a large puddle of blood.

“Mando!” Mayfeld exclaimed. He rushed up, “Are you okay?” Din tiredly looked up at him, too emotionally spent to have words. Mayfeld slowly moved his hand and pulled down the rags that Din held in his arms to see a baby that slowly wriggled it’s arms up at him and gargled a breath.

He smiled at the child but that faded when he angled his face back up to Din and saw how pale and exhausted he was. He looked to his left and saw your lifeless body laying under a tarp and some rags.

“I can’t bring her back.” Din says, defeated. “I tried. But she won’t wake up.”

Mayfeld gives Din a nod trying to stifle his own fears.

He feels for a pulse.

“She’s alive.” He nods at Din. “I have two speeders outside.” You take the kid and I’ll take her.”

Mayfeld offers Din his hand and Din struggles to his feet. Mayfeld then grasps your body and pulls it up, wrapped in the cloak.

“We have to go now! They know you’re somewhere on this planet and half the quadrant is looking for you!”

Din nods and you make your way out to the speeder. Din holds the child close to his chest, waiting for Mayfeld to secure your barely conscious body onto the speeder. You wake up slightly, crack your eyes, and hold Mayfeld’s waist on the the speeder, rasping, “You owe me credits, Straight Arrow.”

Mayfeld merely looks over his shoulder at you and says, “Hold on, kid. We’re getting you out of here.” He feels you tighten your grip and both Din and your speeders take off.

The speeders shift and dodge through the thin streets of the city and it isn’t lost on any of you how many eyes are watching you. It was at the edge of the city that Mayfeld laughed, “We made it!” as he can see the Razor Crest in the distance.

Like clockwork, ten speeders emerged from the outskirts of the city, rapidly gaining on you as you sped towards the ship.

Din shoots Mayfeld an annoyed look as they race next to each other.

“What?” Mayfeld snarks at Din and shrugs, “You’ve never overestimated something?”

Blaster fire rained through the air as the thieves, pirates and bounty hunters gained on them. Both speeders came to a sliding stop in a cloud of dust. Mayfeld ushered you off of the speeder and you both took cover behind the speeder as blaster fire shot off like fireworks. Din hunched over the child, protectively covering him as he looked over at Mayfeld and yourself. Mayfeld leapt and slid next to Din behind his speeder, narrowly missing blaster fire.

“Give me the child!” He gasped. Din hesitated and pulled the child back from him, “I’m gonna get your child and The Kid into the Razor Crest while you hold them off!” He shouted at Din’s visor. He still hesitated, but saw how quickly they were being approached and caged in and with a terrified breath handed over the child to Mayfeld.

“Cover me!” Mayfeld said, somersaulting to his speeder as Din stood and dodges in the opposite direction, shooting at the army approaching. Mayfeld handed the child to you who weakly grasped them to your chest.

He panted, face covered in dust and fear, “We’re gonna hold your kid as close as you can and run up the ramp when I tell you to.” He nodded at you for reassurance and you nodded back in understanding.

“Go!” Mayfeld yelled. He grasped around your waist, hauled you up and yanked you as hard and fast as he could into the Razor Crest. Once inside he hit the button to bring up the cargo bay ramp that slowly withdrew.

Din saw the hatch closing and as he was taking extensive fire tried to shoot off his jet pack to fly to the hatch. A pirate jumped on him, putting him in a choke hold but he merely shot off his jet pack again and set him on fire. Din shot up and he slipped through the opening of the cargo bay hatch closing at the last second.

Mayfeld was already at the helm taking the ship off.

“Go see your kid and wife and make sure they’re okay! I’ll deal with this!” Mayfeld yelled frantically as he swerved the Razor Crest into the atmosphere.

Din nods once and races back to the cargo bay to find where Mayfeld had left you in your makeshift bed of blankets and pillows holding your child.

The Razor Crest jolted, taking fire and dipped and swerved with wild jolts as Din slid in next to you and held you close in the complete darkness of the cargo hold. You clutched him, your child gurgling and making happy noises, pushed between the two of you.

“It’s okay” Din tried to sooth you as he held your head into his chest, feeling your heart racing and rigid, terrified body clutching to him.

Finally the Razor Crest smoothed out it’s flight pattern. You look up to Din with wide, tear welling eyes and he tilts his helmet down at you, stroking your cheek and grasping you and the child closer.

“Sleep.” He says simply, “I’ll protect you.”

You kiss his bare neck slowly and softly then tumble into a deep sleep.

………………….

You open your eyes and, unfortunately, saw Mayfeld.

“Hey, trooper.” Mayfeld smirked at you.

Immediately, you fell into pain from your birth and huddled over hugging your body.

“Yeah. That’s normal, apparently.” Mayfeld quirked nonchalantly.

“Where’s The Mandalorian?” You managed to rasp out.

“He’s flying the ship. We’ll be on Mandalor soon.

“My baby?”

Mayfeld smiles and angles your child, bundled up in his crooked arms to your face so you can see them. You smile and exhale all your nervousness as you gather them in your arms and quiet tears stream down your face. You shyly try to wipe and hide them from Mayfeld.

“Hey,” Mayfeld said sitting next to you “I have five kids. Five. And every time that woman created another little copy of me I cried my eyes out because it was so goddamn beautiful that she made something so impossible. I cried. Every. Damn Time. Do you know what Mandalorain was doing after you gave birth? Holding your child and crying.”

You look up at Mayfeld with red, swollen eyes not sure of his point, “You should cry when you make another soul. One of the most fierce warriors in the universe sobbed when he saw this little one.” He pats your shoulder and gets up as Din enters the doorway of he cargo hold.

“I’ll let you take over from here.” Mayfeld says as he brushes past Din.

“Hi, Dad.” You smile unsurely, holding your child. Din approaches cautiously and when he kneels down next to you sees the familiar purple flash emitting from your stripes indicating you’re bonded and it makes him smile and trace his arm around your bare back. You look with a smile into his visor. Then slowly pull back the bundle of fabric they’re swaddled in.

“It’s a boy.” You smile at Din.

Din slowly extends a gloved finger to the child who exudes a wet gasp then reaches up with his closed eyes and grasps Din’s large gloved finger.

“What should we call him?” Din asks, nuzzling closer to you and getting more comfortable in the bed.

“I want him to have a Mandaloran name. But something that holds my family name as well.” You say gazing into your child's drowsy face.

“Shy-Tan.” Din says, “Like your Mandalorian father.”

You mull it over a long moment then try out the name on the child,

“Shy-Tan.” You smile, “What do you think, little guy?” The child gurgles and hiccups. You smile and look up to Din.

“Shy-Tan Djarin.” You confirm. Din slinks down in bed with his arm around you. You cuddle Shy-Tan closer, “You’re going to change the universe, Shy-Tan.”

………………………………………………………

The Razor Crest approaches Mandalor and your breath hitches in your throat as you sit in the co-pilot’s chair.

“Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.” Din tries to dissuade your worries to no use. Shy-Tan begins to cry in your arms.

You divert your attention to him and stand up, bobbing him up and down and trying to shush him.

“I’m with the kid.” Mayfeld pipes up from the jump seat behind the copilot’s chair, his legs kicked out and crossed casually upon a console as he grasps the bridge of his nose in exhaustion, “You’re nuts if you think we can just walk into Mandalor and state ‘we good, right?’ and have them throw a welcome home party.”

“We have the first male Luc/Mandalorian child ever born.” Din states as if it’s a question of “why wouldn’t they understand?”, with a shrug and head shake of confusion.

“Yeah.” Mayfeld kicked his legs off the console and swiveled to face Din, “That’s like saying, ‘Hey, I made a kid with the race that murdered a bunch of you and was exiled. It’s wanted as a trophy because of the suffering it’s race put your planet through. So can we, like, hang out here now?’ You think that’s gonna go over well?” Mayfeld makes a good point that leaves Din frozen. Mayfeld turns to you, “You wanna be any part of this?” He puts you on the spot as you jolster Shy-Tan, nervously to try to stop him from crying and look busy to dodge the question. You merely shush Shy-Tan some more and turn away from Mayfeld, shooting him an annoyed look, and move back further away from both of them in the cockpit, “See?” Mayfeld throws his arms out, “Are you doing this for her, and your kid? Or are you doing this for you? Because you need justification?” Din shakes his head to ignore Mayfeld with an annoyed sigh and goes back to busying himself on the controls that bring The Razor Crest into entering the atmosphere of Mandalor.

“I’m just sayin’ - Don’t make a poster child out of A CHILD.” Mayfeld slaps a console as he swiftly turns and brushes past you out of the cockpit and into the cargo hold.

You’re still left bouncing Shy-Tan who is now quiet but you keep shushing him to fill the silence as you wander back and forth behind Din as he flies the Razor Crest into Mandalor.

“Do you not want to do this?” He abruptly breaks the silence as the ship still slowly approaches the planet.

“I don’t.” You say simply. “But…” you continue hesitantly, “we have to.” You stand next to his pilot’s chair and reach a hand down to grasp his shoulder. “For Shy-Tan.”

Din angles his visor up to you, “But Mayfeld is right?” He asks solemnly.

You nod your head.

“Unfortunately… Mayfeld is right.”

……………………………..

The Razor Crest comes in for a slow landing on the docks of Mandalore and the cargo bay ramp extends mechanically. Bo Katan stands far back with a line of Mandalorians on either side of the walkway leading up to her to greet your arrival… or protect them from you. Din steps out with Mayfeld and they slowly stride down the ramp. As you step with Shy-Tan bundled in your arms a few feet behind them the lines of Mandalorians power up their weapons and pull out their guns. You stop dead in your tracks as Din turns back and holds out his hand to try to quell your worries.

“Put your weapons down.” Bo Katan orders the Mandalorians and begrudgingly, the lines of Mandalorians look to each other and one by one holster their weapons Din waits for you to catch up to him at the end of the ramp and slides a confirming arm around your back as he leads you forward to meet Bo Katan through the myriad of Mandalorian helmets that you can feel the seething hate from as you pass them. You apprehensively stand in front of Bo-Katan who stands with crossed arms.

“We welcome you because Din Djarin saved our planet.”

“We thank you for taking us in.” Din nods ceremoniously.

“You and your child will be given housing on the outskirts of town where you can hide. Your friend will be given lodging within the city.”

“Thank you.” You finally speak up. It catches Bo off guard that you would speak to her and her helmet snaps to you. She leans in to you and lowers her voice,

“If you show one sign of violence I will shoot you and your child into the nearest sun.” She threatens. You’re shocked and look back to Din who merely holds an open palm in front of you to stop you from moving or reacting.

“We will protect you.” Bo Katan nods then proclaims loudly. “All Mandalorians will protect you. As long as you respect the ways of The Creed.” There is some awkward shuffling amongst the lines of Mandalorians but no outwardly response.

“You need the waters of Mandalor.” Bo states looking over your hunkered and diminished form, still weak and injured from giving birth. “Go there with the Armourer and heal your birthing wounds. There you will solidify the name of your child and confirm them into your Clan.”

You nod, meekly.

Bo nods at the Armorer that steps forward from the front of the line.

“Follow me.” The Armourer commands.

With that, you leave the palace. You, with Shy-Tan in your arms, Din leading you and Mayfeld taking up the rear, follow the Armorer who silently leads you down into the mines of Mandalor. It seems to take hours as you weave and climb your way down into the center of the world until you find yourself standing in an underground cave, overlooking the dark waters of Mandalor.

“Go and sit in the waters of Mandalor with your baby in your arms and it will heal your wounds.” The Armorer commands emotionlessly. You nod, huddling Shy-Tan a bit closer to your chest as you kick off your boots.

“Wait.” Din’s hand clasped your shoulder. You turn to be face to face with his visor. He raises his gloved hand and strokes your cheek.

“I love you.” He whispers.

“I love you to the end of the stars and back.” You smile at him

“Be my Riiduur.”

He kneels down on one knee and takes your hand.

“All I’ve ever wanted is you. I want to be part of you forever.”

You nod frantically. “Yes.” You whisper between your tears.

Din looks back to the Armorer who pauses, taken aback but trying to hide her reaction.

“All three of you must get into the waters of Mandalor.” She instructs.

You strode out, pushing against the dark water with Shy-Tan in your arms and Din holding your hand wading in by your side.

“The three of you are now bonded for life. One shall never exist without the other. Din Djarin, you have found your Riduur. May the waters of Mandalor purify this unity and bring health, unity and security to your clan. Stay here and let the waters of Mandalor heal past wounds so you can go forth with your new lives together. Repeat these vows to each other, ‘Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde’”

Both of you turn to each other and slowly repeat the vows to each other.

“It is now written in history.”The Armorer finishes. She turns and coldly begins to walk out of the cave leaving the three of you standing waist high in the water.

“I was a witness.” Mayfeld says excitedly, “You know, for the first Mandalorian/Luc wedding…”

The Armorer stops and slowly turns her head to Mayfeld.

“Witnesses are not required or noted for Mandalorian unions. Follow me out and let them be.”

Mayfeld turns while walking away, waves and yells, “Congrats!” at the three of you and follows the Armorer out. Before he was out of earshot you heard him question her, “So are you Riduured to anyone?” and hear The Armorer loudly sigh in frustration.

You smirk as you watch them leave and suddenly the cavern is completely silent except for the occasional drip of humidity off of the stalactites into the dark water. The water ripples like silk as Din moves to you and pulls you close.

“How do you feel?” he carefully whispers.

“You’re my Riduur now. Ask me that with your helmet off and I’l give you an honest answer.” You smile.

Din decompresses his helmet and tosses it to the shore.

His chocolate eyes flick back and forth searching your face as he wades in close to you. There’s a slight smile that breaks out over his plush lips. Then his eyes slowly close as he leans into you and you feel his aquiline nose nuzzle you, then his lips brush against yours and slowly open for his warm wet tongue to explore your hot, waiting mouth.

Your vision turns blinding white with fireworks as you arch back and let him trail his warm kisses and licks up your neck as he cradles your head.

“Let’s get to our new home.” You stroke the side of his face as he slowly smiles a dimpled, stubbly jaw at you.

“Do you still have any pain?” He asks, gently swirling you around him in the water.

“No” You said, kind of shocked. You didn’t feel any more birthing pains. It was as if the waters of Mandalor had healed you and invigorated you.

“You can walk to the house?” He asked.

“I could walk 1000 miles right now.” You smile and bite his lip playfully.

“Good.” He says grabbing you up in his arms and carrying you out of the water. Just as he was about to leave the cavern there was a loud sloshing like a whirlpool that was emerging from the Waters of Mandalor. Din turned with you in his arms and Shy-Tan tucked against your chest to see a giant pair of reptilian eyes emerge with a bubbling force from the waters. Din is shocked and slowly puts you down as you both stare at it, stunned.

“The Mythosaur…” You trailed off in awe. “I thought it was just a wives tale.” Din pulled you and Shy-Tan protectively closer to him and could only shake his head in awe as he looked at the eyes of the dinosaur poking out from the water, inspecting the three of you. It gave out a giant huff of air that shot water and mist 20 feet into the air, gave one last slow blink, then slowly descended into the water again. You looked at Din at the same time his helmet turned to you.

“That’s normal, right?” You ask shakily.

“No.” Din states in awe.

……………………………….

You get to your small house on the outskirts of town. There’s nothing much in it other than a bed and a shotty crib with some tattered blankets but it’s more than you had worked with so far and were happy to have it, even though Din knew it was meant as a slap in the face from Bo Katan

You gently hummed Shy-Tan to sleep and laid him in the nest of rags in the crib. Tucking him in lovingly, Din stepped up and hovered over him, not able to find words as he stared at him. He slowly reached out a gloved hand to touch him and you swatted it away.

“Don’t!” You hissed. “He’s been up all day. And I want some time with my Riduur” you smile mischievously.

“Are you okay for….” Din shifted uncomfortably.

“I don’t know what’s in that water but I feel amazing. I’m fully healed.” You take his hand and lead him away from the crib and into you. He hums his approval and you feel him getting hard underneath his flight suit. “You know… there’s a claw foot bath tub here….” You smile sideways dripping with insinuation.

“Hm… I remember last time I had to teach you how to use a bath…”

“Yeah. I think I have a handle of it now. Maybe we can do it together?”

“Then I guess I ‘d better make you dirty first…” Din pulls at your pants and pushes them slowly down then you del his thick hands around your thighs and ass, his breath getting heavy. “I love the feel of your wet pussy against your underwear.” He moans in your ear as his hand feathers over your underwear. You moan and throw your head back. He slowly circles over your clit over top of your underwear and watches you wraith in anticipation.

“Don’t you do that to me, Din Djarin!” You whisper harshly to him as he teases you.

“No?” He asks innocently as he slowly shifts back and forth, kneeling down until he’s between your thighs. You hear his helmet depressurize as he lifts it off and places it on the ground next to him. You can feel his hot breath outside of your underwear and he blows softly over it to tease you.

You clench your thighs together, holding his head, locked in place.

“Mmm…. good girl.” He moans. You look down as his dark chocolate eyes stare up intently at you right before he looks gently down and dives into eating out your pussy like a man starved. You watch as his face nods up and down, eyes down, watching your clit get more and more swollen. Now and then he comes up for air and a small smile of pleasure forms on his face as he uses his hands to continue to feather and circle your clit, driving you into his controlled ecstasy. He dives back in and you feel him nuzzle his aqualine nose against you over and over bringing you up and up to new levels. Then his wet, warm tongue takes over, licking just one side of your clit, so gently you can barely feel it, but the teasing sends you into the stratosphere as your back arches and you silently gasp for air at the ceiling. Your chest heaves, sweat drips between your breasts and you buck your hips wildly and uncontrollably. He only dives in with more enthusiasm. You try to pull him back from your overstimulated clit but he won’t relent and licks and sucks harder.

You scream out his name.

Your cum squirts across his face. It drips down his chin and his hard cock only throbs more.

“Dirty girl” Din Growels and hungrily licks up your juices.

He grabs your wrist and leads you to the bathroom where he turns on the bath, beginning to fill it with warm water. You fall to your knees and undo his belt letting hs hard cock spring out of his flight suit. You lick you plush lips, readying yourself for the flavor of his member in your mouth.

Hungrily you lick the silky skin of it, feeling his vein throbbing and precum bead up in the slit of his head that you lick up needily. You slowly open your mouth and softly engulf his penis as he grabs the back of your hair and arches his back feeling the pleasure pulse through him. You gingerly lower ourself down the length of his hard cock, feeling it throbbing in your mouth and as you pull back up he moans loudly. Your hand grasps he base of his member as you wildly bob up and down, your saliva mixing with his pre-cum making him rock hard and bucking into your face. He thrusts over and over as tears stream down your cheeks, taking in the huge width and length of him, your tongue dancing all around him. You feel his balls tighten and his cock heave as he’s about to cum and pull away before he can reach his plateau. He angrily lets out a long, frustrated, primitive grunt. The bath is ready.

You step into the warm, steaming water, leading him by his hand as he’s still lust drunk and pliable to whatever you ask of him. He sits in front of you as you nestle up against the back of he claw foot tub. Your arms wrap around him and grab his cock, slowly teasing and tickling him, bringing him up and up until he’s moaning out lout with pleasure and calling out your name. His chest is heaving and hips are bucking into your hand.

Slowly you flip over on top of him and angle his cock to your entrance. He looks up at you with wide, unsure eyes as he enters you then with a hard thrust sheathes himself fully into you. His brows knit together and mouth drops open as you engulf him. You toss your head back and shout out in pleasure as his hand tangles in your damp hair to control you and he begins rutting into you. His forceful thrusts fill you fully and make your body feel complete as he smiles and gently grunts into your neck and angles his head up to nip at your ear.

You find yourself cock drunk and arched towards the sky as he fucks up into you in the bath. The coil inside of you tightens to an extreme and just as you thought it would snap he reaches down and begins quickly circling your clit, turning you into a wild animal. You’re both calling out into the quiet night, moaning and panting and begging then the cool snaps in both of you suddenly as you call out his name over and over, wildly riding him. As he watches you become feral on top of him his own cock twitches, becomes rock hard and suddenly spurts inside of you like a geyser as thick ropes of cum paint your walls. He clutches you closely to his body as he grunts and whines into your flesh, bucking wildly and uncontrollably.

Finally the motions stop and both of you fall back to earth. With his cock still in you he gently kisses your forehead, closed eyes, cheeks, ear lobes, neck and collar bone until he’s run out of steam and slumps into your body that rests on top of him and both of you sink back into the water. You can hear gentle lapping of the warm water as he circles his hand on the steaming skin of your back, calming you as you catch your breath.

Shy-Tan can be heard rustling then crying in the other room and you moan your discontent. Din raises a hand and shuffles up from underneath you in the bath.

“I’ve got it.” He says pulling his body out of the bath. He wraps a towel around himself. “You stay here. I like the idea of you bathing in my cum.”

He leaves to tend to your child.

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fanfreakinfiction · 8 months

Text

My Gods Are Not Kind to Lonely Mothers

Chapter 2: Trying to Understand

Ch. 1 | Masterlist 🖤

4.3K words // Din Djarin x pregnantf!reader

Summary: How can Din understand and respect your plans without being apart of them? He tries to help, but your stubbornness rivals that of a Mandalorian.

Tags: SLOW BURN, Some fluff, made up Star Wars culture & religion, split POV, slight language barrier, mention of death, mention of child death, dark!, lots of relationship building in this.

Warnings: mention of child loss and grief.

A/n: Alright so let me explain Illa-ishi real quick because I never want to get the wrong idea across. Illa-ishi are mainly single mothers who birth at the lower pool of the Mountain of Mothers. The reason why Illa-ishi give birth at the lower pool and pass away, isn’t the gods punishing them for being single mothers. The journey up to the lower pool when a mother is in the throws of birth is so rigorous and difficult without the help of their partner that many perish from exhaustion. By the time they make it up the cliff to the lower pool some do not even have energy to give birth which is why there are skeletons in the bed rolls. Please comment or ask me questions if anything is ever unclear! Also I know this is a shorter chapter than Ch. 1, I initially wanted this to be a two part series but I found I have more to write than I thought. Anyways, enjoy this soft chapter! I will update this series every Friday.

Standing in the pool, you felt his hand on the right side of your waist. He'd carried you from the spot near the cliff into the shallow end of the hot spring and set you down into the water as if you were sacred. Paralyzed by the sudden display of kindness after the last months spent alone, you felt the cold metal of his helmet lean heavily on the back of your head.

A slow fear crept up from somewhere deep inside the traumatized confines of your heart, the fear immobilizing you to his actions just as they'd done the night he paid for your company. Frozen in place, thoughts of him pushing you into the spring and drowning you flooded your mind. Then you felt his left hand rest on the small of your back, leading you to think he'd take you again as he'd done in the expensive room back on Tatooine. You'd worked in that brothel for years and saw the desperation of men in need, the aftermath of what they'd done to women they had no emotional attachment for.

Just as you started to form a plan of action against him, you heard the softest noise from behind. It took maybe thirty seconds for the sound to register within your mind – he was crying. The strangled sound of a sob left the static of the modulator on his helmet, which was then followed by the most sincere "I'm sorry" you'd heard since the day your father had sold you.

For a moment, you just looked ahead at the milky waters of the spring and the steam swirling around you. The small green baby that the Mandalorian had brought with him sat nearby the shallow end of the pool, gazing into the water below, his small hand chasing the steaming swirls that rose into the air. You felt the life within you stir, your contractions coming inconsistently now, almost as if your body was confused. The warmth of the leather-clad hand on your right side tightened slightly as you heard one more sob break over the roar of the waterfall.

In a show of cosmic irony, you couldn’t help the small but sad smile that graced your lips as you trailed your bandaged right hand up to lace your fingers over the back of his hand, and you spoke, “Don’t cry.”

His sobs seemed to quiet, as if he hadn't expected your touch, your reassurance. The tension in his grip lessened. After a moment of his head resting on the back of yours, you assumed he regained his composure as he slowly pulled away. Shyly, you looked over your shoulder and offered a small tearful smile to his visor before turning your attention back to the spring. Taking careful steps forward, you found a place to lower yourself back once more into the murky depths. You moved to sit where your back was resting on the jagged rock wall.

Out of your peripheral vision, you saw him standing in the same spot. His hands were frozen in the air where they’d rested on your body, until he slowly clenched his fists and lowered them back to his sides.

He stood like a statue just looking at you, his weight shifted to his left, the grey of the flightsuit around his knees now a dark grey from the spring's water. The edge of his grey cape touched the surface of the spring, wetting the frayed and somewhat burned seams.

You felt an awkward discomfort as his helmet seemed locked in your direction. It really made you uneasy that you couldn’t tell where his gaze was or what emotion was on his face. Was he happy? He had cried… you had done the same when you found out.

“You-”

“What’s-”

You both spoke over one another in unison, causing a blush to creep up your neck as you looked away. As if some unseen force felt the tension in the air, the small green child, enamored with the steam of the spring, fell face first into the warm water.

“Grogu!” The Mandalorian’s voice bordered on panicked as he moved from his stiff position to where the child had fallen in. In a swift movement, the Mandalorian had grabbed the child by the tan robe he wore, pulling it to the surface within seconds of the splash. The child blinked his large eyes frantically as he let out some displeased grunts. Holding the child above the water now, the Mandalorian looked the child over and then moved to hold him in his arms. “We’ve talked about this…” The Mandalorian sighed as he looked at the child. You couldn't help the smile that graced your face.

"Does it get into problems?" You spoke carefully as you tried to remember the words in basic.

Being on your homeworld was the happiest you’d felt in years, and slipping back into Kith, your native language, was like putting on your favorite dress. But coming out of Kith back into basic was proving challenging; maybe the Mandalorian spoke Huttese, which you knew almost as well as basic.

“Yeah…he does,” the words fell in a resigned huff from the man clad in silver as he held the now dripping child.

“Oh…Is he…your child?” You asked slowly as you gauged the man’s reaction. Your eyes flicked from his helmet to the water covering your belly where your hands fidgeted under the water. Anxiety filled your thoughts as you waited for his response.

After a painfully long silence, the Mandalorian sighed and shifted to set the green child on the ledge of the spring nearby and sat next to the child, leaving his covered feet in the spring. Adjusting his cape as he sat, he turned to run a gloved hand over the child’s tan robe before speaking in your direction.

“It won’t look like him…if that’s what you’re asking,” he said dryly, and your head snapped in his direction, studying him for a moment before you thought he might be trying to joke. A smile graced your lips as you moved in the water to slowly approach him. Your right hand held onto the spring’s rocky wall as you moved towards him and the child who fidgeted with a metal object around his neck. Within a foot of the child, you looked the soaking baby over with a cocked eyebrow and critical eye before turning to face the Mandalorian.

“He is…” you paused, trying to find the word in basic as you felt a rush to do so, “…c-ute,” you sounded out the word slowly and looked up at the man sheepishly as the child made a surprised “eh!” sound and smiled toothily at you.

“Basic isn’t your first language?” It was almost not a question from the Mandalorian, and you couldn’t help but feel a hot embarrassment from his tone.

“No,” you said as you turned away again, caressing your belly under the water, “I am Kith.”

“I am Mandalorian,” he said, and you thought he might be patronizing you.

“I see and know,” you retorted back as you shot a soft glare his way.

A sound emanated from his helmet, and you thought it might be a sigh. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he started to say as he reached into his bandolier for something. “I am Mandalorian, but I am different from other Mandalorians. I am bound by a creed.” He pulled out a piece of paper as he spoke, and you recognized the paper immediately. “The Mountain of Mothers…” he spoke again as he unfolded the pamphlet. “You’re here because you believe in this?” He asked as he looked over the paper.

You eyed the pamphlet that Don Mai must have so generously forced into the bounty hunter’s hand. Your eyes trailed from the pamphlet back to his helmet, and you nodded your head yes.

“I understand,” he says as he looks over the pamphlet, the child next to him suddenly taking interest as well. “The creed I believe in… it is my responsibility to take care of foundlings.” His helmeted gaze shifts slightly from the pamphlet to the child next to him.

“Found-i-ling?” you repeat the word back to him slowly in confusion.

His head turns to look at you, and he hands the pamphlet to the child who plays with the paper.

“Foundling,” he confirms with a small nod. “Children who are adopted by my people, warriors of Mandalore… This is the Way.”

Your gaze moves from his to the child next to him, and you nod.

“He is found-i-ling,” you say in confirmation as you nod your head toward the green child.

The Mandalorian nods in confirmation, and you see his hands clench the edge of the rock.

“And you…” he starts, “you are also my responsibility...”

You hated that word. Responsibility. Such a long word that was so often thrown in your face as a guilt tactic. The foreman who your father had sold you to made sure you always had responsibilities.

You were no more than eight when your father had sold you to the greasy man on Tatooine, and your life had been work ever since. The foreman wasn’t completely cruel; there were masters on Tatooine that were far worse. You had a bed, food, and even a bath. The foreman protected you from disgusting prying eyes of patrons who thought you were merchandise and not just a helping hand. But he also worked you to the bone, washing pillows, washing gowns, sewing gowns, steaming tapestry, cleaning the rooms, making meals, fixing the building, making errand runs – your responsibilities.

“No,” the word fell from your lips as if it were law. The Mandalorian’s head tilted towards you as if he didn’t hear you.

“Yes. You are my responsibility,” he repeats. “This is the Way.”

“No.” The word was slightly more harsh coming out as you turned to face him now. The sun had finally fallen behind the sky, and you were almost surrounded in darkness as you stared him down.

You could sense his hesitation, the momentary lapse in response, but the Mandalorian was resolute. “It is the Way. We take care of our own. The Creed guides me, and I cannot abandon my responsibilities.”

The weight of those words hung in the air, the silence stretching between you. The cold grip of your past life clawed at your heart, and you couldn't bear the thought of being bound by another's expectations. You had yearned for freedom, for a chance to shape your own destiny, and here, in the darkening solitude of the hot spring, those dreams seemed to be slipping away.

—

Your face was starting to turn pink from the heat of the spring as the word left your mouth. Din sat there staring, or truthfully, he was glaring at you from under his helmet. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say your stubbornness made you more a Mandalorian than it did a Kith. He battled with himself; this was not a place he wanted to be.

Din had always been careful when it came to his intimate business. When he and Xi’an would mess around, he would always pull out even though he knew she had an implant. He’d never actually finished inside anyone before, not until he’d taken you. To ease his guilt, he had told himself it was because of his inebriated state, but he knew by the time he’d slowly stripped you in that warmly lit room, the Corellian Whiskey had worn off. Maybe it had been because you were the first virgin he’d ever taken, the tightness of your heat on his fingers like a Dathomirian witch's call. Maybe you were a witch, which is what he was trying to understand, trying to learn more about you.

His eyes had scanned the pamphlet now being crumpled by Grogu’s hands. He realized the Mountain of Mothers was a sacred place, much like the living waters on Mandalore. The stubborn part of him wanted to scoop you from the spring and carry you back to his ship to take you to Mandalore, but he couldn’t do that. You were too close to birth and he really had no place to interrupt your plans… plans he hadn’t been a part of. The dark parts of his mind reminded him.

"What is your plan?" He found himself asking you. He watched as you looked up at him from your spot beneath the comforting spring waters, your brow furrowing. You had placed your right arm on the surface ridge of the pool and had laid your head down to watch Grogu.

"I will rest here," your voice sounding tired, your hair damp from the steam as you offered a sad smile.

"For how long?" He asked next, watching your face carefully to gauge your emotions.

You shrugged and looked down at your belly. "Until Noona arrives.”

Please. Kriff. Please don’t let Noona be the name for this child, his child. He cringed internally.

"Noo-na?" He repeated back, trying to hold down the unhappy tone of his voice. You nodded your head as if he was an idiot.

"Noona," you said with a nod. "Or… Baby."

He breathed a sigh of relief, just Kith for baby.

"Then what?" He asked as Grogu stirred next to him, clambering up into the Mandalorian's lap, leaving a trail of water and the now soggy pamphlet behind as he climbed.

"We rest," you said sadly.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he was getting frustrated with this beat around the bantha approach.

"After you rest?" His voice sounded a bit more terse than he intended. He watched as your head snapped up at him in annoyance, feeling confusion at your sharp reaction.

"We rest," you replied back, matching his terseness.

"For how long?" He gritted his teeth.

You splashed the water as you threw your hands up slightly and glared at him. "Forever!" You shouted back at him, and confusion laced his face.

"I don’t understand," he replied, as Grogu pulled at his bandolier from his lap, a sign he was getting hungry.

A moment of silence lapsed as your gaze slowly traveled to the skeletons surrounding the pool, now shrouded in darkness. You sighed as you looked at the remains mournfully and then slowly back to your belly.

"Illa-ishi come here to rest, forever," you said.

The skeletons and bone fragments all made sense in his mind now, and it made him sick.

"What?" His voice was laced with confusion and a hint of anger.

Before he could register the emotions swirling in his chest, he was already standing up in the water. Grogu, sensing the shift, looked up warily at his father. The Mandalorian glanced over at the pack leaning against the black jagged rock next to your bedroll, and he moved towards it out of the water.

—

Your heart raced as you watched the Mandalorian abruptly leave the spring and walk towards your pack and bedroll. You watched with bated breath as he set down the green child next to your pack on the ground and knelt down to your bedroll.

"NO!" You shouted as you watched him start to roll the bedroll back up. You quickly moved from your position in the water, walking carefully towards the edge. In an instant, he was moving in front of you, leaving the small child behind. It frightened you to see the speed at which he moved, the menacing aura he gave off as he moved to bend down, eye level with you.

He rested one hand on his right knee and the other hand on the ground next to him as he spoke.

"I am trying to understand your culture, but I will not allow you both to die here," his voice was menacing and sharp, bringing tears to your eyes.

"We are meant to die here," your words came out laced in pain and fear as you tried to stare him down. His hands balled into fists as he stared back at you.

"Why," he asked, and you could tell he was angry, and it wasn't fair.

Why was he angry when he had played no part in the last months?

You instantly felt remorse at that thought.

Throughout your whole pregnancy, you wouldn't allow yourself to think ill thoughts of him, afraid they might pass into Noona. Really, it wasn't his fault. You had no way of contacting him.

After your night with him, you'd taken your cut from the foreman and bought transport off of Tatooine. You spent weeks hopping planets and seeing different worlds, grateful for the credits you'd saved over the years, but even more so thankful for the six thousand credits that bought your freedom.

When you found out you were pregnant, you'd been staying on the mining world of Gorse, visiting the moon Cynda known for its illustrious thorillide crystal mines. You felt as if your freedom was snatched from you once again.

You knew this meant you were destined to be Illa-ishi and knew you'd be birthing a dead baby at the lower pool. It hurt, and you felt it wasn't fair, to you or the life inside you. A life that wouldn't exist outside of your own body, which is why you hadn't even bothered seeking out the Mandalorian.

Besides, all you had to go off of was the sigil on his pauldron, and since the Empire decimated Mandalore, it was impossible that you could find him again. Most Mandalorians had gone into hiding, and being already two months pregnant, there wasn't enough time to try and figure it out. You had accepted that you would be alone, that you were Illa-ishi, and that you could only enjoy the months ahead while Noona grew inside you.

You had traveled back to Kith in your fifth month of pregnancy and taken up work alongside Don Mai, the self-appointed mayor who graciously offered you a job in the fuel station. But soon your time was up, and you'd started your journey three days ago with the accepted belief that you'd never leave the Mountain of Mothers.

Still, the rational part of your mind sympathized with the man staring you down. You honestly believed you wouldn't see him again, and yet here he was. You knew that Kith was a planet along the outer rim, and nobody cared to understand your culture. Your people were not warriors like Mandalorians, nor powerful witches like Dathomirians. Your people were peaceful and slow.

Don Mai had a point about one thing, "People need to see the wealth of culture we have here. Kith would want the galaxy to know of the sacrifices he made for his wife."

—

Your eyes searched his visor, and he watched as you struggled internally. For a moment, he felt shame at his tone because it elicited a glassy look in your eyes, but he was angry. Not angry at you but more angry with himself. He sat eye level with you, waiting for your explanation when he heard a sigh leave your lips.

“Illa-ishi do not make it to the upper pool to give birth,” Your words offered little to soothe his confused anger. He opened his mouth to speak, but you continued, “Illa-ishi die at this pool with our babes, as a price for our solitude.”

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. You truly believed you would die here, along with the life he helped create. He rose from the crouched position as he looked down at you in the now looming darkness.

He studied your face for a moment before his eyes drifted lower to your full breasts and belly. A twinge of pride at the sight of you was quickly extinguished by the look on your face. You looked sad, like you didn't want to believe what you did, like some part of you wanted to make it to the upper pool. Slowly he extended his right hand down to you before he spoke, “You are not alone, not anymore.”

—

Helping you from the pool carefully, he watched the steaming water rush off your body, leaving droplets all around you. A shiver quickly rushed through you, and he cursed himself for not being more prepared when he left his ship. He didn't even bring Grogu a snack. He stood in front of you, unconsciously zoned out as he tried to think of his next steps.

He didn't realize how uncomfortable you'd become by his gaze until you moved your hands to cover yourself in shame. Your face was flushed pink, and he realized you assumed he'd been standing there staring at you like some teenage boy. He felt a rush of embarrassment; he normally never spared a thought for anyone, never cared what they thought, but for some reason, he really didn't want you to think ill of him.

"Get back in the water," his voice was low, and it almost startled you.

He saw the look of confusion on your face, and he sighed audibly. "Just… you'll be warmer in the water until I can make a fire," he said reluctantly, and he watched your eyebrows shoot up.

"A fire?" You almost sounded excited.

He nodded as he moved to help you situate yourself back into the water.

The green child cooed from his spot, now sitting on your bedroll as he watched. After situating you back into the water, Din looked back to Grogu; he could tell he was getting hungry and tired.

"I need to go collect wood. Would you… just make sure he doesn't get into trouble?" The Mandalorian hesitated to ask you for anything, but he knew Grogu would just inhibit what could be a quick task. He watched your face as you glanced up at him from in the pool and behind him to the child.

"Yes," you said, almost so quietly that he strained to hear it.

"I won't be long," he told you as he stood and immediately walked over to the edge of the cliff to make his way back down toward the forested area.

Left alone with Grogu, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of emotions. The Mandalorian had been harsh, distant, and mysterious, yet he had also shown moments of compassion and care. You watched the child as he cooed and played with his small, metal pendant, seemingly unfazed by the ordeal.

—

The thought of a fire excited you after three days of eating cold food and sleeping on the cold ground. Maybe if Noona was tired and not ready to come, you could actually enjoy your last night of sleep. Surely Noona would be here tomorrow?

"Rissi, Noona?" (Right, Noona?) You spoke to your oddly calm belly. You thought back... when had your last contraction been? After the Mandalorian had shown up, but that had now been almost two hours ago.

You felt unease rise up into your throat.

You only felt this afraid once during your pregnancy, and it was when you hadn't heard Noona's heartbeat at the small makeshift medical office in the fuel station. It wasn't until you and Don Mai had realized the medical droid's radar equipment had malfunctioned that you found peace.

But now you could feel the panic and no peace. A part of your mind was whispering that Noona was already gone. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you started moving frantically towards the shallow part of the pool. You rested your left hand on the soaked fabric of your dress as you clambered towards the edge of the pool.

"Pessi Noona... Pessi!" (Please baby, please.) you whispered frantically as you tried to feel anything. The rock floor of the pool felt harsh under your bare feet, and you slipped a little at one point, causing you to stumble.

From your right, you could hear the small green child make a grunting noise. Pushing yourself up in the water, you felt your breath quickening with panic as you moved out of the water. Tears were coming hard, and you couldn't stop the sobs that came from your mouth.

"Pessi a Noona! Pessi! Pessi!" You cried as you made it from the pool to the harsh gravel-covered surface of the rock surrounding the pool. Looking down at your belly, you pressed your hands rather harshly to feel. You could make out two lumps at the top, maybe knees? You couldn't be sure.

You felt a tugging on your dress, and as you tried to look down past your belly, you caught a glimpse of a green ear. The small green child tugged fervently on your dripping gown.

"Noona a nissa movissi" (baby is not moving), you tried to explain to the small green child who you could hardly see. You sobbed and tried to move toward the bedroll. Through your tears, you heard the small child behind you as his feet pattered softly on the rock behind you. You moved to sit on a rock nearby, lowering yourself to the ground, you planted your feet and caressed your belly.

"Pessi Noona, gividas sotissi" (Please baby give me something), you cried as you continued pressing frantically, trying to get Noona to move or kick, anything.

You felt the lightest touch on your arm as you sat and hyperventilated. Looking to the left, you saw the small green child look at you curiously. His large brown eyes were full of so much emotion, something you couldn't place. Before you could make another sound, you felt the edges of your vision begin to fade.

Maybe this was it... the last moment with you and Noona... would the Mandalorian come back and disturb you? You didn't want to leave the Mountain of Mothers, you wanted to die here with Noona, stay here with Noona, forever…

The last thoughts flashed in your mind before you felt yourself succumb.

"Rest," a small voice whispered through your mind.

#din djarin #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x pregnant reader #din djarin x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #star wars the mandalorian #the mandalorian #star wars fanfiction #my gods are not kind to lonely mothers #MGANKTLM

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sourwolf-sterek32 · 1 year

Text

A Real Daddy?

Summary: You sat in bed watching Pedro's latest interview; Jeff Bridges: "Are you a daddy?" Pedro: "I'm not a daddy. And I'm not gonna be a daddy!"

Your heart shattered at his words as you looked over at the bathroom where six positive tests were sitting on the sink.

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: language, mentions of abortion

A/N: This fanfic was a commission request. She wanted a short Pedro x Reader where Y/N is nervous to tell him that she is pregnant, and after watching his Hollywood Reporter Roundtable interview, I had to incorporate it into the fic. I hope you all enjoy it ❤️ (gif found on Google, credit to the owner)

You and Pedro had been together for a couple of years now after meeting long ago on the set of Game of Thrones.

The two of you had hit it off right away and had become close friends during the filming of Season 4, but somewhere along the way that friendship had turned into so much more.

Watching Pedro perform as Oberyn Martell wearing that mustard-coloured robe with his unique accent, you never stood a chance. The man was a gift sent from the Gods and for whatever reason, he had taken a liking to you.

"Are you sure you're okay? You still look a little pale." Pedro observed, leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom. His beautiful brown eyes met yours from where you were laying under the blankets, and you could see the concern washing over him as he stared at you.

"I'm probably just coming down with something. I'll be fine. Aren't you meant to be at the airport by now?" You asked, glancing at the alarm clock on your nightstand with a frown.

He had less than an hour before boarding. He really should be halfway to the airport by now.

"Maybe I should reschedule. I don't want to leave you alone-"

"Pedro. You can't reschedule, you start filming Gladiator tomorrow. I'm fine. I promise." You reassured, but your words didn't seem to reassure him in the slightest and you sighed.

He had been working so hard for his new role in Gladiator. With his vigorous diet and workout routine, he had pushed his body to the max for this role. You were so incredibly proud of him. There was no way you were letting him reschedule.

"You were throwing up all morning. You're not fine. I want to take care of you." He all but whispered, walking into the room and sitting down on the edge of your bed.

He lifted his hand, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as he cupped your face gently and smiled softly at you. You leant into his touch and rested your hand on top of his.

"I love you for that, but I don't need you to take care of me. I can take care of myself."

He sighed, "if you get any worse then you call me, okay?"

You rolled your eyes, "Pedro-"

"You call me." You repeated sternly and you nodded.

"I promise. Now, go before you miss your flight." You said, shoving him gently off the bed. "Text me when you land so I know you're okay."

"I will, baby. I love you." He said, leaning down and kissing your forehead. "Get some rest, okay?"

"I will. I love you, P." You replied smiling softly at him before he grabbed his suitcase and walked out the room.

Life as you knew it continued on as per usual. That weird stomach bug would come and go, but you just put it down to work stress and bad food.

Pedro was still filming Gladiator overseas and wasn't due back home for another couple of weeks. It was hard whenever he was away, which was fairly often with your line of work. Acting was a very demanding job and although you were taking a break for a while after you had just finished shooting you last movie, Pedro had job after job lined up for the rest of the year.

You were happy for him though. From Narcos to The Mandalorian to The Last of Us, he had really shot to fame. He was the talk of the whole internet at the moment, and you were so proud of how far he had come, you honestly couldn't be happier for him, but a small jealous part of you sometimes wished he wasn't as popular.

He had writers and directors calling and emailing him constantly about job offers and interviews. The two of you rarely got to spend any time together.

It was part of the job though. You both lived busy lives with your acting careers. You knew it would be like this when you first started dating. The two of you had spoken about it before making things official between you, knowing that if you were really serious with each other that you guys would make it work, and you have. But it still sucked sometimes.

However, as you sat on the edge of your bathtub staring at the pregnancy test on the sink, you wished more than anything that he was here with you now.

There were still a few minutes before the test was done and you sat anxiously tapping the empty packet against your knee while you waited.

Neither of you had really spoken about wanting kids in the future. The topic had just never come up. You were too busy with your careers to even think about having kids, but now you were really wishing that you and Pedro have had that conversation. Did he even want kids? Did you even want kids? It was too much to think about.

As if on cue, your phone suddenly began to vibrate in your pocket, and you pulled it out to find Pedro's name on your screen.

He was calling you.

Shit.

You glanced over at the upturned test before taking in a deep breath and pressing the little green accept button.

"Hey!" You said into the phone with as much joy and excitement as possible, not wanting him to know that something was wrong.

"Hey, baby. It's so good to hear your voice. How are you feeling? My sister called and said you sounded a little flat yesterday on the phone."

Yeah, yesterday wasn't a great day. Your body decided that it didn't want to keep any food inside of you, even the plain toast for breakfast came back up. His sister had called at the worst possible time for a chat. You had tried to sound normal, but apparently you hadn't fooled her. You should have known she would tell him.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Just wasn't feeling great yesterday. I'm good today though, but enough about me. How's Gladiator going?" You asked, and if Pedro noticed your sudden change in topic, he didn't comment on it.

"It is great! Joe and I had this really intense fight scene, and we did it in one take! Which was crazy because during rehearsal we kept laughing and dropping our swords, but we totally nailed it."

You smiled at how happy he sounded as you stared at the pregnancy test packet in your hand anxiously. You couldn't tell him. He was happy and in the middle of filming and you probably weren't pregnant anyway, no point in making him worry for no reason, right?

"Sounds like you've had a good day then." You replied.

"The best! Oh, remember when I did that Hollywood Reporter Roundtable interview?"

"With Jeff Bridges, Evan Peters and the other guys?"

"Yeah, that one. It's finally been released.

"Finally! I've been dying to watch it. Is it on YouTube?" You asked, putting him on speaker while you opened up the YouTube app on your phone to find it.

"You don't have to watch it. It goes for alike an hour and I'm probably just staring at Jeff Bridges the whole time. I don't know how I got through any scenes with him back when we were filming Kingsman together, that man is a legend." He admitted with a chuckle.

"Well now I have to watch it." You responded causing Pedro to laugh through the phone before you heard a voice shout in the background, but you couldn't hear what they were saying.

Pedro sighed, "sorry, baby. I gotta get back on set. I'll call you a bit later."

"Go knock 'em dead, Gladiator. Talk later." You replied before hanging up the phone.

You found the interview on YouTube and glanced over at the pregnancy test on the sink before shaking your head. You couldn't look yet... you didn't want to look yet because if it was positive... you had no idea what you were going to do.

So instead, you walked into your bedroom and connected your phone to the television on the wall and played the Hollywood Reporter Roundtable interview hoping it would distract you.

The interview did distract you. It was a good interview and whoever decided to sit Pedro and Kieran Culkin next to each other deserved a raise because they were fantastic together.

You had almost forgotten about the pregnancy test, you were so invested in the interview until the interviewer bought up the topic of 'daddy'.

"Uh, yeah. I am." Pedro answered the question with a smile. "I am having fun with it. It seems a little role related. I think. The Mandalorian is very daddy to baby Grogu. Joel is very daddy to Ellie. These are daddy parts."

"Are you a daddy?" Jeff Bridges had asked from across the table.

"I'm not a daddy. And I am not gonna be a daddy!" Came Pedro's answer.

He didn't want to be a daddy.

That thought hadn't really occurred to you. Pedro didn't actually want kids... you knew that was a possibility since you guys had never spoken about it, but he really didn't want to be a father.

The interview was still playing on the tv, but you had long ago stopped listening.

What if you were pregnant? What were you going to do?

Abruptly, you jumped off the bed and rushed to the bathroom and your stomach dropped when you saw the two little pink lines on the pregnancy test. It was positive.

Your body was paralysed where you stood, unable to tear your eyes off the stick. That couldn't be true. It couldn't be.

But after six positive tests later, you were forced to face reality.

You were pregnant. With Pedro's baby... but he didn't want to be a father.

Pedro had stated publicly during that interview that he didn't want to be a daddy, but you were pregnant. How were you meant to tell him? When should you tell him? You couldn't tell him now. He was in the middle of filming one of the biggest roles of his career. You couldn't dump this on him now. No way.

Pedro's boisterous laugher came from the tv in your bedroom and you sighed, listening to him. His laugh had always been contagious, and you could hear the others in the interview all now laughing as well.

You loved Pedro. And he loved you too, but you couldn't go forcing this baby on him, a baby that he definitely didn't want. How could the two of you have a baby anyway? Between your busy careers, there was no time for a baby. It wouldn't be practical. It wouldn't work.

In the end, you decided to ignore the problem for now. It wasn't like it was going anywhere. So, you ignored it. Maybe you were a little in denial about the whole thing, but any normal person would be.

Pedro had noticed something was wrong almost immediately when he next called. You tried to act normal, but he knew you better than you knew yourself so hiding anything from him was stupid, but you kept trying.

He knew you were lying to him whenever he asked if you were okay, but you weren't about to drop the biggest bombshell of his life on him over a phone call. So, you kept lying.

It wasn't until a few weeks later that you came home to find Pedro sitting on the couch with your laptop open on the coffee table in front of him. That in itself wasn't anything unusual, he always used your laptop to check his emails or play solitaire. But him being home a whole week before the end of shooting was definitely not right.

He hadn't noticed you enter the house. He seemed too focused on something on your laptop and whatever it was, you knew it wasn't good by the way he sat with his body tense and jaw clenched.

Did something happen?

"Hey!" You greeted happily, despite the worry churning in your stomach. "I thought you weren't meant to be back until next week."

Pedro turned his head in your direction, his usual bright brown eyes were dull and hard, his brow furrowed in a frown as he turned back to the laptop.

"We finished early. I was going to surprise you." He answered, his voice flat compared to his usual cheery smiley tone, and he looked away from you avoiding your eyes.

Okay, something was definitely wrong.

"What's going on? You seem... I don't know, did something happen?" You asked worriedly, dumping your keys on the bench before walking over and sitting beside him on the couch.

"Why don't you tell me."

You frowned, "I'm not following."

"I went to check my emails, but this was already open when I turned it on." He explained, leaning forward and tilting the laptop screen towards you.

You squinted a little staring at the laptop on the coffee table before your eyes widened in utter shock. It was your booking confirmation for an abortion.

Oh, God.

"You were pregnant." He said, but it wasn't a question, he had already figured it out.

You looked away feeling tears burning in the back of your eyes. He was angry. He was trying to hold his anger back, you could tell, but he was angry. Pedro was angry at you.

"Who's was it?" He asked, when you didn't say anything.

"What?"

"Who was the father?" He repeated, causing you to look over at him in confusion. "You got an abortion without talking to me, so it obviously wasn't mine. Who was it?"

Wait, what?

Did he seriously think that...

"You think I cheated on you?" You asked in disbelief because that couldn't be what he was implying, right? You've been together for years, he wouldn't think you would do that. He wouldn't.

"Who?" He demanded, his beautiful brown eyes full of so much anger and sadness, it made your heart break.

"I didn't cheat on you. I'd never-"

"Don't lie to me!" He snapped.

You flinched back at his raised voice like he had physically slapped you across the face. Pedro had never yelled at you before. Sure, you guys have argued, every couple did, but he had never raised his voice, not like this.

The anger in his eyes subsided a bit, a flash of guilt washing over him. Instantly regretting his actions before he shook his head and stood up from the couch, heading towards the front door.

"I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shouted at you. I just need a minute to clear my head." He said over his shoulder.

"I didn't get the abortion and I didn't cheat on you!" You hurriedly yelled, not wanting him to leave.

If he left right now... you would break down. You couldn't lose him, and you didn't want him wandering the streets of LA thinking you had slept with someone else while he was away.

Pedro froze where he stood, his hand on the door handle about to open it, "what?"

You took in a deep breath, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you looked over at him, his back still facing you.

"I'm pregnant. It's yours, and I didn't get the abortion."

He slowly turned to face you, but you couldn't gauge his reaction. His whole body was just a blur through the tears swimming in your eyes.

"You're serious?" He asked, like he couldn't quite believe it was true.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, the tears you had been trying so hard to keep back finally falling down your face. "I'm sorry, but I didn't cheat. I-I would never cheat on you. Never. I need you to know that. I would never cheat on you."

Pedro rushed across the room, dropping to his knees in front of you and placing his hand on your knee as he looked up at you. All the anger that had been bubbling inside of him was now replaced with guilt.

"I know, baby. I know. I just... when I saw the email, I thought... I'm sorry. I should have never accused you of that. But why didn't you tell me?" He asked, his voice breaking ever so slightly as he continued. "You booked an abortion without telling me. You didn't have to go through this alone, why didn't you tell me?"

Your heart shattered at his words because you knew that was true. He would have dropped everything to be there for you, no matter the cost. He would have ruined his role on Gladiator for you in a heartbeat, and you wouldn't let him do that.

"I couldn't tell you." You whispered, tears still streaming down your face as you looked away from him, not wanting him to see you cry.

"Why not, baby? I would have been there for you. I wouldn't have forced you to do anything you didn't want to do, you know that, right?" He asked, seeming genuinely worried that you may have feared that.

You sniffed, "I know."

"So why couldn't you tell me?" He asked, his voice softer and gentler than you had ever heard it.

You thought back to that interview, your heart breaking all over again. I'm not a daddy. And I am never gonna be a daddy. Pedro didn't want this.

"You said you didn't want to be a daddy." You answered, your voice barely above a whisper.

"What?"

You looked back over at him to find him staring at you in pure confusion and you sighed, wiping the tears from your face before elaborating.

"In that Hollywood Reporter interview. You said you didn't want to be a daddy... I watched your interview and found out I was pregnant the same day."

Pedro's expression dropped, "oh, baby-"

"And you were filming Gladiator." You quickly said, cutting him off. "So, I didn't want to tell you and distract you from that job. You've worked so hard for it, and you were so happy whenever you called from set. I-I didn't want to ruin that. But... but I knew you didn't want kids and I didn't want you to feel forced to have a kid that you didn't want-"

"Breathe, baby. Y/N, breathe." Pedro reminded, squeezing your knee gently.

You sucked in a shaky shallow breath, knowing you were working yourself up, but you had to say it all now because if you didn't than you probably weren't going to say it at all.

"I booked in for an abortion, but I couldn't go through with it. I was sitting in the waiting room, I was ready to go in, but I couldn't. I couldn't do it. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You sobbed, burying your face with your hands.

"Shh, it's okay, baby. It's okay. It's okay." Pedro reassured, getting to his feet and sitting down beside you.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest, his other arm wrapping around you tightly, holding you while you broke down in his arms. Pedro was still talking, whispering soothing words to you while you cried.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all this alone." He whispered, rubbing gentle circles over your back as he held you. "I'm so sorry, baby."

You weren't sure how long he hugged you for. The tears had eventually stopped flowing but the collar of his Lakers shirt was now damp.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, lifting your head from his chest and had to do a double take when you noticed Pedro's eyes were now red and glistening with unshed tears. Seeing him on the verge of crying made tears rise in your eyes once again, but you forced them back.

"You have nothing to apologise for. Nothing." He insisted, pulling away and cupping the side of your face with his hand, brushing the tear stains from your cheeks as he smiled softly at you. "I love you."

"You... you don't hate me?" You asked, your voice sounding as broken as you felt.

"Hate you?" He asked in shock. "I could never hate you."

"But... you don't want kids... and I'm pregnant and it's my fault and-"

"If I remember correctly, it takes two people to make a baby." He pointed out, chuckling softly as you rolled your eyes.

"I'm serious, P."

"So am I." He stated, his laughter coming to a stop as he took in a deep shaky breath. "Look, I know we've never talked about it, but I always wanted to have kids. I love kids. I love being an uncle and I love playing daddies on tv, but I had accepted that it probably wouldn't happen for me, not with my age or career."

"Pedro-" you tried to say, but he kept talking.

"I love you, Y/N. If you want to keep this baby, we will make it work, I promise. We will figure it all out. But if you don't want this, I will support that too. It is your body, baby, whatever you want to do, I will be there for you and support you."

His words sent the tears in your eyes trickling down your face once again and his own eyes softened as he brushed them away with his thumb.

"I-I don't want to force you into anything. I don't want to-"

"Baby, baby, you're not forcing me into anything." He reassured, but you shook your head.

"But the interview..."

"I said that thinking being a real daddy wasn't in the cards for me, but now it is, only if you want it to be though." He explained, putting emphasis on the last part.

You didn't say anything for a moment. A million different thoughts and emotions washing over you as you slowly nodded and met his gentle gaze.

"So, if I told you that I wanted to keep it..." You trailed off unable to finish the sentence as Pedro's eyes lit up with hope.

"I'm gonna be a real daddy?"

You smiled, "you're gonna be a real daddy."

Pedros face broke out into a bright smile, the tears in his eyes silently falling down his face before he lent forward and captured your lips with his, kissing you gently.

"I love you. I love you so much, Y/N." He whispered against your lips.

PART 2

MASTERLIST pinned to profile

Commissions open! Link in bio & DM for enquiries.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #oberyn martell

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iron-strangers · 2 months

Text

of breakfast and sweet lullabies

Summary: Din Djarin is not an early bird. But there's one way to convince him to be one.

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Female Jedi!Reader

Tags: Established Relationship, Mand’alor Din Djarin, Morning Sex, Kitchen Sex, Unprotected p-in-v, Creampie. I mean they are married and she's pregnant already

CW: Pregnancy, No use of Y/N, NSFW MINORS DNI

Length: 1.5k

A/N: This fic is a part of an ongoing series, posted on AO3.

Read this on AO3 : of breakfast and sweet lullabies

Prequel to Aliit

Link to the series on ao3, tumblr

As the soft light of dawn filters through the curtains, Din stirs awake from his slumber, the warmth of his bed reluctant to release him. Stretching languidly, he blinks away the remnants of sleep with dismay, frowning when his stretched arm doesn't find the warm body of his riduur. His senses gradually awakened to the familiar sounds of home. A gentle melody wafts through the air, drawing Din from the comfort of his bed. Curiosity wins, he rises from the bed and follows the melodic trail, where his feet lead him toward the heart of his home.

There, standing by the stove, is his beloved riduur.

Your silhouette is illuminated by the soft glow of the morning light. With a gentle sway, you hum a lullaby, your voice a soothing serenade that wraps around Din like an embrace. One hand effortlessly flips eggs with practiced ease while your left hand is raised, manipulating the force, levitating plates and glasses from the cabinets. The tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed caf and breakfast fills the air, mingling with the sweet notes of your song, Din is still watching in awe as you move with grace and tenderness around the kitchen.

“Kandosii sa kyr'am ast, troan teroch jetiise a'den,” you sing softly, caressing your growing bump, singing an old Mandalorian war chant to your baby instead of core-world lullabies. Unable to resist, Din quietly approaches you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting hiazs chin on your shoulder. You lean back to his bare chest, clearly expecting the embrace, soaking in his warmth. Can't sneak up on a jetii , Din thinks, scratching your shoulder with his stubbles.

“Duraan vi at ara'nov, vode an, kar’ta tor,” Din joins in, both of you singing the last two lines of the chant. You look back at him, your face breaking into a radiant smile before burying your nose into his curls, pressing a sweet kiss to his temple.

“Morning, mesh’la,” Din smiles, kissing your shoulder, tightening his hug and pulling your body closer to his. “Hey there, ad’ika," Din coos, his voice filled with adoration as he greets his baby. "Are you having a dance party in there? Keeping your momma awake, huh?"

You chuckle, absently tracing circles on Din’s hand. "You know," you tease, "every time you talk to the baby, they kick like crazy. I swear, it's like they’re trying to tell you to pipe down."

Din grins, his gaze softening as he looks at his wife. "But how can I resist talking to our ad'ika?" he replies, his voice laced with affection.

You roll your eyes playfully, but your heart swells with love at Din’s words. "I know, I know," you huff, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Din can’t resist the urge to put his hands over your belly once more, whispering sweet nothings to his verd’ika. And true to form, the baby responds with a flurry of kicks and movements, eliciting a groan of mock annoyance from you.

"Oh, see what you have done?" you complain but your tone is teasing as you nudge Din with your elbow. "Now they're all riled up."

Din grins unabashedly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I can't help it," he laughs, "I just love them so much already."

Grinning, you lean your head on his shoulder, pressing open-mouthed kisses to Din's jaws. Your bodies sway together from side to side as you finish up making breakfast, setting everything on the dining table with the force. Din smiles against your temple when he feels another kick on his hand. His hands sneak underneath your robes, smirking against your neck when he feels skin and nothing else underneath. He roams your body, massaging your aching breast and trailing his hand down, stopping on your belly, caressing the stretched skin as he nips his marks on your neck.

You feel him grinding against your thighs and you gasp, feeling the heat of arousal pooling in your center. Whimpering, you grind against his thickening length. You reach back, running your hand over the outline of his cock through the fabric, slipping your hand down the waistband of his pants, teasing and squeezing him with your fingers, smearing his precum all over the tip. Din groans, catching your hand and slips it out, ignoring your disappointed whine to pull his pants down. His cock slaps against his belly, hard and already wet from his precum. He takes your robes off your back, throwing the thin silk down the floor and he bends you towards the counter, still ever so careful with your growing bump.

“Mesh’la,” Din praises, parting your folds with two big fingers. He scoops some of your slick around and spreads his fingers all over your clit. You let out a low protest as his fingers leave you, stroking himself slowly with your arousal before nestling the red, flared tip of his cock between your folds, gathering up the creamy mess.

“Gonna let me fuck you like this, sweet girl?” He grunts low in your ear, giving your clit a well-deserved attention with his swollen, leaking head gliding through you.

“Yes, please- Oh, Din!”

He watches you desperately moan for him, whining needily as he buries all of himself into you in one deep thrust, pushing himself in easily with the slick that’s been pooling from all his teasing. Your cheek squished against the cold tile of your kitchen counter, looking back to meet Din’s eyes as he holds your hips in place and fucks into you.

“You do, yeah, mesh’la? Always so desperate to take my dick." Din murmurs his praises, hissing when he feels your pussy fluttering around him, struggling to take his girth. He swears when he hears the sloppy squelching sounds of him pounding into your tight heat. He keeps on hitting the spot inside of you that makes you see stars, over and over again. “That’s a good girl, my perfect little riduur. Let me hear you, cyar’ika.”

“Fuck- Din, fuck my pussy so good, daddy-”

Manda. Din knows you know what that word did to him-

Din drapes himself across your back, pressing you down to the counter. He sneaks one hand down, rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit, completely fucking the ability to form any thoughts out from your brain. He’s basking himself with your filthy moans and screams that come from the sharp, long snap of his hips, going as deep as your pussy will allow him. Din feels the sweet clench of your pussy around the base of his cock, familiar with all the signs that his riduur is going to cum hard.

“Want me to fill you up, rid'ika? Want to feel it dripping out of you?” Din asks in a low, rough grunt and you respond with a flurry of desperate nods.

“Yes, fill me up, please, cyare, want your cum inside me!”

“I know, momma, just let it all out. Take what you need, sweet girl. I’ve got you, cum on my cock.”

You seize in his hold as he continues to roll his hips against yours, feeling boneless from the pleasure that hums through every nerve. You cum with an arch of your back followed by a cry of Din’s name and he groans at the flutter of your walls around him, gripping him so tight in your warmth. He can barely get out a handful of thrusts before he's spilling deep inside of you.

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” Din groans in your ear, murmuring sweet praises and sucking his bite marks all over your neck and your shoulder, holding your shivering body up by your hips. “Too rough?”

You shake your head from the counter, too comfortable to even lift it from the cool tile. “So fucking good,” you hum pleasantly, holding your hand up and a towel flies across the room to your waiting palm. Din slowly eases himself out of you and you moan, feeling his load drip out of you. Din groans, scooping his leaking spend from your thighs with his finger and plugging it all back into your fucked out cunt. He plants a deep lingering kiss on your lips and he takes the towel from your hand, wetting it and wiping the shared mess between you two, careful when you start to hiss from over-stimulation.

“Hey, love? Can you help your gooey puddle of a wife up to the chair?” You ask, flashing him your best attempt at puppy eyes. Din smirks, pulling his pants back up before helping you back into your discarded robe, lifting you to the breakfast stool.

“Take a breather, cyar’ika, I’ll go get Grogu,” Din kisses the top of your head and flicks your nose before he goes to wake the child up, smiling to himself when he watches your nose wrinkle. You playfully shoo him as you tie your robes up, huffing about having to disinfect the kitchen after breakfast.

If every morning started out like this, Din will never complains again for the rest of his life.

Song used in this fic: Ka’rta tor by Jesse Harlin

Ka'rta Tor (Heart of Justice)

Mando'a

Kandosii sa kyr'am ast,

Troan teroch jetiise a'den,

Duraan vi at ara'nov.

Vode an, ka'rta tor.

Translation

As ruthless as Death itself,

The pitiless face of The Jedi's wrath,

Let us look down on all who are before us.

Brothers all, one heart of justice.

#expanding clan mudhorn #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin #din djarin smut #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x female reader #the mandalorian x you #star wars #star wars fanfiction

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pedroshotwifey · 9 months

Text

Lesson

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Tags/Warnings: NO use of Y/N, dom!reader, sub!din djarin, extreme over-stimulation, pregnant reader (not mentioned until the end), reader is a badass and we love her, restraints, aftercare, fluffy fluff, slight bdsm, Din whimpers bc I want to see Din whimper, im sure im forgetting stuff but oh well

Summary: Din chooses to put himself in danger by changing plans during a mission, and you decide it's about time he learns a lesson.

A/N: Hello lovely people! Hope you enjoy some subby Din for a while. I don't really have much to say this time, so just ignore my rambling I suppose. As always, requests are wide open and reposts, comments, and likes are very much appreciated! <3

***

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

You’re absolutely furious. In all the years that you’ve been with Mando, he’s never made a mistake this detrimental. Not only did he almost lose the bounty with his random change of plan, but he also put himself right into the path of danger. This shouldn’t have been a dangerous mission, but somehow, Din found a way to make it life-threatening.

The bounty the two of you were after had been hiding out in an old, abandoned ship on an old, abandoned planet. The main objective was to get the target outside of the ship to capture him in case there was any kind of fuel left in the corroding ship.

You thought you were both stationed in your respective positions, the bait set to lead the bounty out, when you had noticed something was missing. Din. Din was missing. You curse under your breath as you stand up to get a better look at his empty post. Fucking bastard.

You spot a gleam of beskar in your peripheral and turn to follow it. He’s too far away from you for you to yell at him or try to grab him, practically at the opening at the ship already. There's nothing for you to do but wait and see how everything plays out. You groan as you crouch back down behind the rock you had been hiding behind.

Then you hear a deafeningly loud bang.

Your heart drops to your stomach as you shoot back up to your feet.

“MANDO!” You hear yourself scream his name but you don’t remember making an attempt to do so.

You immediately know what had happened as you get closer to the ruined ship. The first thing you see is the absolute wreckage laying around where the ship used to be, some of it still smoldering. The second thing you see is fucking Mando emerging from the smoke, target in hand.

His armor is coated in a black film, likely from being so close to the tank when he fucking shot it and blew it up. You stand in place and let him walk to you, keeping a firm expression the entire time. You can tell the moment he sees the way you’re seething. His movement falters and he lowers his head ever so slightly, continuing toward you with his tail tucked.

You wait until he is a few feet away from you before turning on your heel and starting the way back to the Crest. You know he’ll follow, so you don’t look back or say a word until you reach your shared ship.

When you climb aboard, you wordlessly signal for Mando to put the bounty in carbonite before you climb up to get the ship into the air. Once you’re out of the atmosphere, you climb back down the ladder to find Mando standing in the middle of the hull.

He doesn’t say a word to you, just stands there awaiting your orders. Smart. You point to the bedroom and wait for him to start walking before you trail behind him, still fuming. He stops in front of the bed and watches you walk past him and into the closet. You throw a single word his way as you start digging for the restraints.

“Strip.”

He shudders at your tone but does as he’s told.

***

“Please, Cyar’ika, please!”

The sob that slips from his mouth is delicious even though it’s a bit muffled by his vocoder. You chuckle darkly as you look down at him, The Mandalorian, clad in nothing but his helm and the binders around his wrists and ankles that secure him to the corners of the bunk.

His cock, throbbingly hard and flushed almost purple at the tip, jumps as you speak. The twitch is overstimulating enough to have his whole body try to curl into itself, but it doesn’t budge with the way he’s binded.

“Aww, you poor, sweet boy,” you say with a mock sympathy as you fold your hand to rub your knuckles along the inside of his thigh. “Want to come so bad, don’t you?”

You both know the answer to that question. You’ve been going at this for hours now. You denied him at first, bringing him to the edge and then denying him as soon as you felt him about to bust. You lost count at about nine times—around the same time Din started to cry. After close to an hour of that, you did let him come, just like he wanted. But then you didn’t stop.

The last hour and a half or so have been spent working him up just softly enough to get him hard and leaking again, and then edging him for a while before letting him come. Each time, he grows more sensitive, and each time, it becomes more fun for you.

You know your panties are ruined with your arousal at this point, but you don’t pay too much attention to the fact. This is about Din right now, about teaching your Mandalorian a lesson. You want to rip his helmet from his head so you can see the way his tears streak down his ruddy cheeks, so you can hear his whines for mercy without the modulator warping his voice. But you don’t, not yet at least. You want him to feel humiliated by the way he is being punished and violated while still in his beskar.

He begs you to stop, but you know he doesn’t mean it. You have a specific code for these types of things—if he really wants to, all he has to do is say the word and you’d have him out of the binders and in your gentle embrace within seconds. He hasn’t said the word yet, though. He’s too stubborn to let you win completely, but that's okay, you don’t plan to break him. You just want to make him think that you will.

He tilts his head back and whimpers in response to your taunting question and you take the opportunity to grab his cock. Din’s head comes back up with lightning speed as he shouts at the contact that causes his body to shake once again. Though he orgasms, not much trickles out. A small dribble of cum escapes the tip of his cock and leaks down his softening shaft.

He’s a whining, whimpering mess beneath you, and you can’t get enough.

“Think you’ve learned your lesson, sweet boy?” You pet his flaccid cock, making him sob as you ask him the question. He nods to the best of his ability and you tut down at him. “Use your words for me, baby.”

“Y-yes, I’ve learned my lesson,” he tries to keep his voice unwavering but fails miserably.

“Yes, what, honey?”

“Yes m-ma’am, I’ve l-learned my lesson, I’m s-sorry.”

You hum in consideration for a moment before speaking again. “Good boy. I think you deserve a reward for that, don’t you?”

He nods and you figure you’ll accept it this time.

“Okay, baby, I’ll be right back.”

With that, you sit up from where you had been perched on the side of the bed and stride into the closet. As soon as you go through the threshold, you hear Din let out a shuddering breath. Poor thing must be exhausted. You smile at the thought. He’s not done yet.

You open a drawer and dig around until you find what you’re looking for. Once you have the wand in your grasp, you walk back out into the bedroom. You hold the object behind your back so he can’t see while you sit back in your original position. He’s quiet as he waits for you to speak.

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen,” you start, trying to hold your smile back. “I’m going to help you with a little toy, and you’re going to tell me why you’re so sorry.” You wait a moment to watch the way he tilts his head back in defeat. When you hear a small blubber of regret slip from his lips, you continue.

“If you can give me the right answer, I’m going to be generous and let you come, and then we’ll be done. If you can’t… well I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, pretty boy. How does that sound?”

“S-sounds fair, ma’am.”

You nod at him and reach your hands up to his helmet. “Can I take this off, sweetie?” He hesitates but gives you a small nod after a moment. He doesn’t want you to see the mess of tears staining his face.

You release the airlocks and lift up, slowly revealing his pouty lips, his prominent nose, his beautiful, begging eyes, and finally his soft, brown curls. He looks up at you slightly parted lips as you set his helmet to the side.

“There’s my pretty boy,” you say before leaning down to place a gentle kiss to his lips. You don’t wait any longer to move down the bed to where his swollen cock lays against his stomach. You smirk and take the vibrator you picked out into your hand, flipping the switch to turn it onto a low setting. Din flinches at the sound.

“Okay, honey, I want you to keep your eyes on me while you speak, just so I know you’re not lying to me.” A tear slides down his cheek and you can see him gulp down his anxiety. “Yes, ma’am,” he says after a moment.

Bending down, you place a kiss to the tip of his dick, and he tries his best to get away from the contact. When you look up, he’s staring at the ceiling. You lightly slap his cock, making him shout. “Look at me, baby, I’m not gonna tell you again.”

Once his glossy eyes are on you, you bring the vibrator to the tip of his dick. He immediately bucks his hips away and starts to whimper and pant. “Now tell me, what did you do wrong today?”

Mando is too busy gritting his teeth through the blinding overstimulation to answer your question, and you turn the wand up to a higher setting. It’s a fair warning, you think. He screams and thrashes in his restraints.

“I’m sorry, Gods, I’m sorry, p-please!”

“Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry I went ag-ah-against the plan, Gods, I’m s-sorry,” he tries his best to ignore the way the sobs muddle his speech.

You run the vibrator up and down his shaft before bringing it to the tip and applying pressure.

“Good boy… Are you going to do it again?”

“No, no, please!”

You smile and figure that he probably means it. If he ever pulled a stunt like that again, you’d have him chained to the bed for days. His beautiful brown eyes stay on you the whole time.

“Okay, baby, I believe you.” Even though he’s still squirming beneath you, he looks visibly more relaxed at the knowledge that this is almost over. “I want you to beg for it baby, beg me to let you come.” As humiliating as it is, he doesn’t have to be told twice.

“Please let me come, p-please! I’ve been so good for you! Been s-so good!”

You chuckle at the desperation in his voice as you lean down one more time. Keeping the vibrator on the tip of his cock, you turn it up to the max setting and take one of his balls into your mouth, sucking harshly.

He lets out the loudest shout of the night as he comes. He shakes and sobs underneath you as you prolong it as best you can. You hear him speaking, but it’s so slurred through his cries that you’re not sure what he’s trying to say.

Once he’s done orgasming, you lift up and turn the wand off before casting it to the side. When you look at his face, Din has his bottom lip between his teeth as he tries to keep his tears from falling from his closed eyes. Taking pity on him, you decide to wrap it up quickly.

You look down at his belly, covered in his own cum. You take two fingers, being careful to avoid his poor cock, and swipe up a glob of it. Bringing it up to Din’s lips, you tell him to open up, and he does so, licking his own spend off of your fingers.

“What do you say, baby?”

“T-thank you,” his words are breathless but filled with relief at the same time. You bring your forehead down to touch his before kissing him one more time. He gladly reciprocates, chasing your lips once you sit up again.

You tell him to wait just a second as you work at the restraints. Once free, Mando lets his limbs fall into comfortable positions. You smooth his hair down in a soothing motion as you assure him he did good. You stay there with him for a moment before getting up again to get him a glass of water and a fresh set of sheets. You turn the shower on while you’re at it.

Once he’s in the fresher, you change the sheets and grab some snacks for when he comes back. When he does, you’re waiting in the clean bed with open arms. He smiles warmly at you and crawls in, letting you wrap yourself around him. The two of you lay there like that for a while before you break the silence.

“I hope you know I genuinely want you to be safer, baby, that wasn’t just for show.” You know he knows, you just want to be sure.

“I know… I’m sorry I did what I did today.” You can hear the guilt in his voice and you turn to look into his eyes.

“It’s okay, Din… I just…” you trail off as you try to find the right words. “I don’t think I could live with myself if something ever happened to you.” You can feel tears stinging your eyes at the thought of it.

“And now, with the baby on the way…” you trail off, looking at your distended stomach. “ I don’t want our baby to grow up without a buir, Din.”

“I know, my sweet riduur,” he says before placing a soft kiss to your head. You can see the guilt in his eyes as he looks at you. “I never mean to put myself in the way of danger, I don’t know what I was thinking.” You stay silent, but he knows that you’ve accepted his apology.

“And for the record,” he continues, shyly. “I enjoyed what you did tonight.” You look at him and can’t help but giggle at the smirk on his face. It’s not often you take charge in the bedroom, so you were glad to have the confirmation that he liked it just as much as you.

“I love you, Din,” you say softly as you turn off the light and then snuggle into him. He laughs and hugs you closer.

“I love you too, cyare.”

#pedro pascal #fan fiction #smut #ao3 #pedro pascal smut #the mandalorian #din djarin #sub!din djarin #dom reader #sub character #pregnant reader

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drewharrisonwriter · 1 year

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Masterlist

I write for any of Pedro Pascal’s Characters and for Henry Cavill. I occasionally go back to my roots, and write WWE fics.

All works are 18+, minors DNI.

I write angst, romance (a little bit), and sometimes, kinky stuff. But don't worry, detailed warnings will be indicated for each fic. If this isn't your thing, move along please. Thank you.

If you want to request a fic, let me know what you want me to write. I don't have a formal tag list for each fic, but just leave a comment 😉

AO3 | Buy me a coffee?

✨Benefits (One shot)

Summary: Pedro and his best friend are in a situationship. With her recent health scare, he tried to muster the courage to ask her to be exclusive.

Joel Miller

✨On the Mend (Mini-Series | In Progress)

Summary: You were having a really, really bad day in the midst of the scorching Austin summer, and seeing your ex boyfriend, Joel Miller, is the last thing you need.

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

✨ Keeping Secrets (Currently being rewritten)

✨Donor (Mini-Series | Complete!)

Summary: You ask (beg) your best friend, Henry to donate--sperm.

✨ Is that alright? (Paused)

Summary: You are a musical guest in The Graham Norton Show on an episode that also features your ex-boyfriend, Henry Cavill. You play your latest single that you've written when you were 18 and in love with Henry.

✨ No Ties (One shot)

Summary: You don't do commitments, and it looks like Henry may be down for it.

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triplehmunson · 11 months

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P͜͡o͜͡v͜͡: You are Pedro's girlfriend, who is a former boxer, one day you started to feel bad and when you go to the doctor to get checked out since you have lost a lot of weight and your skin turned yellowish, they give you the terrible news that you had breast cancer You cried desperately and leaving the office you went home and told your boyfriend, when you told him that he couldn't believe it and unfortunately for both of us the treatment was very expensive and at that time they were not having a good financial situation So with his soul in pain, Pedro went to visit some thieves who were doing illegal night fights, since previously one of them contacted Pedro to ask him to accept a fight since he is a good boxer and if he won the fight, He would have a lot of money in his hands, obviously he did not accept but now with the problem they had, he left home leaving you confused and worried. Pedro went directly to those criminals to start a fight, since he promised to save your life, since he knew that without you by his side, he would never do the same thing again.

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beskarandblasters · 7 months

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Me and My Husband

Chapter Five: You're an Angel, I'm a Dog

Married!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series Masterlist | Series Playlist

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Synopsis: Din Djarin is doing what any typical Mandalorian would be doing after reclaiming Mandalore, finding a riduur and settling down. He’s still a member of the Guild on Nevarro, taking bounties here and there to support his new family. But when he meets you while you’re working the front desk at an inn on Naboo, he finds himself hooked, feeling like he’s found something new and exciting in his now mundane life. How long can he keep up appearances with his riduur? And how long can he keep his little secret with you?

Series warnings: reader is able-bodied, set post season 3, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), some liberties taken with Mandalorian culture/weddings/marriages, infidelity, eventual smut (starts at chapter two!), switches between Reader and Din's POV, no use of y/n

Chapter summary: Din brings you to Nevarro. On the way there you receive the worst news ever.

Word count: 4.5k

Chapter warnings: angst, lying, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names, praising, use of Mandalorian words/phrases (same stuff that's been in previous chapters), cycles = years

You

You wake up the next morning with the excitement inside you ready to burst. Today’s the day you’ve been waiting for; the day you’ll finally get to leave Naboo. You woke up a bit earlier than normal to head down to the Star-Lux, just to tell Del you might be gone longer than three days. You’re not really sure how long you’ll be gone. This whole trip was planned last night and you barely had any time to pack.

But soon enough you’re back on your way to your apartment. Del was happy for you. You told her you’re going with a man but you didn’t mention that he’s a Mandalorian. She already knew about your dreams of one day getting to leave the planet so she told you, “Have lots of fun! But not too much fun,” with a pointed finger. She’s been the closest thing you’ve had to a mother so that’s just her sly way of telling you basically don’t get pregnant.

And now you’re back at your apartment, hastily packing clothes into a bag and hopping in the refresher. You should probably also tell your roommate, Willa, you’ll be gone for a while too. After you get out of the refresher you knock on her door lightly to tell her you’ll be away and she responds with just a hum of acknowledgment. You two definitely aren’t friends but you’re not mortal enemies by any means. You’re just roommates, nothing more. Which is part of the reason you spend a lot of time at the library anyway. You’ve never had a space to call completely your own. You went from the orphanage, to the inn, and then to the apartment building with Willa. So the library was your way of escaping and having a small place in the world you could just be you, alone with your thoughts and the knowledge of the galaxy at your fingertips.

You wait outside your building in the early morning hours, anxiously waiting for Din. While you wait you take a moment to reflect on yesterday’s activities. That was the most you’ve opened up to someone ever and Din shared so much of his story, too. Not to mention the hasty sex in the field. It truly was a day you’ll never forget.

And then you see Din, walking down the street towards you with a saunter in his step, sunlight bouncing off the beskar armor. He greets you with a “Good morning, ca’tra,” and takes your bag from you.

“Good morning, Din,” you respond, walking towards the outskirts of town.

He’s usually silent when he walks, but you notice him constantly scanning the people and area around him, as if he always has his guard up. But when you enter an area with a lot of congestion he places a hand on the small of your back, keeping you close to him.

Eventually the stone covered streets turn into grass and you’re finally alone. He grabs your hand and says, “Are you ready?”

“I’ve been ready,” you laugh.

He leads you into the Crest, letting go in his head to climb up the ladder to the cockpit. Now that it’s really hitting you that you’re going to leave Naboo and travel through space, the nerves are kicking in.

You’re looking at the floor, eyes searching for something to fixate on other than the huge window in front of you. Din sits in the pilot’s seat and spins it around to face you, grabbing your chin with his hand and turning your face towards his.

“Hey. You can do this,” he says softly.

“I know. I’m just nervous,” you respond with a shaky breath.

“We don’t have to do this,” he says gently, his thumb stroking your cheek.

“No. I want to,” you say firmly, looking into his visor.

He nods and spins back around in his chair to prepare the Crest for takeoff. And before you know it you’re off the ground and Naboo is getting smaller and smaller beneath you. You want to close your eyes for fear of getting motion sickness but the views in front of you are breathtaking. You get glimpses of everything around you between the inky blackness, the stars peppered throughout, and Naboo’s three moons before he enters hyperspace. You brace yourself, closing your eyes for this part. You hear his seat spin around again and his soft modulated tone, “Feeling alright?”

Opening your eyes slowly, you’re met with the bright blue serene swirls of hyperspace. With an exhale your anxieties leave you. You did it.

“Feeling alright,” you confirm.

“Not so scary was it?” he asks, half teasing.

“Not really,” you smile.

“Should only take us a rotation or two to get to Nevarro. Are you excited?”

“Excited beyond words, Din,” you smile.

Something on the control panel beeps and you hear Din take a sharp inhale underneath his helmet. A grainy blue image of a Mandalorian is displayed in front of you. Din frantically scrambles to press buttons but it’s no use. You’re listening to the transmission come through and you can’t believe your ears.

“Hello, riduur. Take all the time you need. Grogu is doing well. We both miss you very much. Be sure to take care of yourself! Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” the woman says.

And then the transmission is over. Tears sting your vision and your ears ring. You’re not entirely sure what a riduur is or what that other phrase means, but deep down there’s a small part of you that knows. You must’ve missed that word and that phrase in your readings, but it’s another woman who misses him enough to send him a transmission from wherever she is in the galaxy; that can’t be good… for you, at least.

Din isn’t saying anything but you tell he’s feeling guilty just by his body language, angled away from you with his shoulders slumped.

“Din… Who is that?”

More silence. But his silence says everything. Your face feels hot and your first instinct is to run; to get out of here as fast as you can. But you’re trapped in this metal box of death, locked in hyperspace. The tears are threatening to spill over and your nose tickles, sobs about to break loose. You sniffle and his visor snaps over to you.

“No. No. No. No. No ca’tra, please don’t cry,” he rambles, grabbing your hands.

“Who is that?” you repeat, looking directly at him.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Din, you have to tell me.”

He lets out a sight of defeat before saying, “That’s May… My riduur… My wife.”

You figured. Of course he’s married. Someone like him is too good to be true; too good to not come with any baggage or damning red flags. It’s your turn to be silent now, to let him do all the explaining, to let him grovel at your feet for forgiveness.

“Ca’tra?”

“Starting now, you’re one hundred percent honest with me. Got it?” you say firmly, pointing a finger at him like you did at the front desk at the inn when you first met.

“I don’t know where to start.”

“From the beginning,” you say coldly, folding your arms.

“May is a fellow member of the Children of the Watch. When we reclaimed Mandalore and finally started settling down, everyone started getting married and I felt pressure to get married, too.”

“Why?” you respond, rolling your eyes.

“For a few reasons, peer pressure, the pressure to devote myself fully to the tribe, and for my son.”

“Your son?”

“I took in a foundling who used to be one of my bounties. The empire wanted him for his blood since he’s force sensitive. I rescued him and brought him to his own kind; a Jedi. But he decided he wanted to come back to me and he’s been with me ever since.”

“That’s… very kind of you,” you offer, admiring that part of his story.

There’s a beat of silence and you feel the urge to ask what you’re dying to know.

“Do you love her?” you press.

“No,” he admits.

“Then why are you with her?”

“…Convenience I guess. She doesn’t ask a lot of questions. She doesn’t mind that I’m gone for long periods of time. She takes care of Grogu while I’m away.”

“None of that matters if you’re in a loveless marriage,” you state.

He falls silent. You got him there.

“Were you married when I first met you?”

“Yes.”

“How long?” you ask, your questions rapid fire.

“A little over two weeks.”

“So this is recent?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you with me and not with her?”

“Because I don’t feel anything for her. I feel something for you, ca’tra.”

You’re caught between a few decisions; 1. Tell him to take you back to Naboo and never see him again. 2. Look past this and continue to be with him. 3. Go to Nevarro and finally get your chance to see the galaxy, then make your final decision about what to do.

…You’re leaning towards the latter.

“Ca’tra?” he asks, removing you from your thoughts.

You sigh. “You’re going to take me to Nevarro. And then I will decide what happens between the two of us. Are we on the same page?”

“Of course,” he says softly, with a mixture of relief and defeat in his voice, like he knows this could’ve been worse but it’s also not the best outcome either.

So, you spend the rest of your time on the Crest with a comfortable distance between each other. He lets you sleep on his cot while he retreats to the cockpit, leaning back in his seat and resting his feet above the control panel. Yeah, that can’t be comfortable… At least it’s only for a short while. But as you fall asleep for the last time before landing on Nevarro, you think to yourself, will you stay with him? Or will you leave him?

It’s time to land on Nevarro. You’re so excited that you put your ill feelings for Din aside for the moment. Right now, this is about you and what you’ve wanted for so long.

He parks the Crest in the lava flats and you can’t get out of the ship fast enough, anxious to see something new. As soon as the exit ramp is lowered you barrel out of the ship and onto the rocky terrain. Nevarro has been of special interest to you ever since you learned about its volcanic nature, specifically its lava flats and hot springs. It’s a beautiful day, you couldn’t have asked for sunnier conditions.

“What do you think?” he asks after you’ve had a moment to soak it all in.

“I think I like it,” you say. “Do you ever… get the urge to touch the lava when you’re here?”

“What? No.”

“Oh, come on. How could you not?”

“Because I know it’s dangerous.”

“But what if it wasn’t?”

“…But I know it is.”

“You just don’t get it,” you sigh.

“I guess I don’t,” he chuckles.

This is good. Humor is good. It’s cutting the tension a little.

“Okay but let’s say you could touch the lava without it harming you, would you?”

“I guess? But what purpose does that serve?”

“To see what it feels like!”

“Still not getting it,” he laughs.

“What else would you like to see?” he asks.

“The hot springs.”

“Okay, they’re not that far from here,” he says.

He closes up the ramp to the Crest before leading the way, the walk there pretty silent. The laugh you shared before cut some of the tension but it’s still not enough. You’re still mad at him and he knows it.

But now you’re standing in front of the hot springs and it’s just… Well, you’ve been cramped in the Razor Crest for so many hours. You need to take a dip. You start shedding layers of clothes and Din’s breath hitches. Once you’re completely naked he asks, “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Going in the hot spring?”

“…Like that?”

“You want me to jump in fully clothed?”

“Well no, but-”

“Shh, let me enjoy this.”

He watches as you step in the warm water, his visor glued to your figure.

“Mmm, feels good. Bet you wish you could join,” you say, floating on your back, your nipples peeking up through the surface.

“Ca’tra…” he groans.

“What?” you ask innocently, swimming to the edge of the springs and resting your elbows on it.

He crouches to your level and caresses the side of your face with his hand.

“Please forgive me.”

“Why should I?”

“Because… Because I’ll treat you right... Because I need you.”

You sigh. Your feelings for him are undeniable. Part of you can’t get past the fact that he’s married and part of you wants to ignore it completely.

“I’m getting there, Din.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” you respond, closing your eyes.

“I’ll take it.”

“Oh, you better,” you say, eyes flying open, “Because that’s all you’re getting right now,” you finish, pointing a finger at him.

He takes your hand in his and softly says, “Thank you.”

“Where to next after this?”

“My house?”

“Sure.”

“It’s not much. I haven’t gotten around to furnishing it much yet.”

“I mean… Do you at least have a bed?”

“…Yes.”

“That’s all we need.”

“Dirty girl you are, ca’tra.”

You laugh and swim backwards, floating in the water and feeling the warm sun on your face.

“Do you ever miss… feeling the elements? Like the sun on your skin, swimming, the wind in your hair,” you ramble but then you stop yourself, “Oh kriff, I’m sorry. What if you don’t have hair? I-”

“You’re okay,” he chuckles, “Sometimes I do. One time I had to bathe in the Mines of Mandalore and I did it with all of my armor on.”

“And how did that work out for you?”

“I sank like a rock.”

You imagine the sight in your head and now you’re laughing, fully making fun of him.

“It’s not that funny,” he says.

“Oh but it is.”

He chuckles and lets you enjoy more time in the springs before deciding it’s time to go, before the sun starts to set.

“Here,” he says, taking off his cape, “To dry off.”

You step out of the water and take his cape from him, running the fabric up and down your skin. He watches you the whole time because of course he does. He’s completely enamored with you. You could be in the refresher, or reading a book, or watching paint dry, and he would watch you like you’re the most interesting and beautiful creature in the world. Because you are to him.

You put your clothes back on and hand him his cape back. He heads the way to his house. There’s literally no one around but he still places a hand on the small of your back, keeping you close to him.

He stops in front of a small tan house and says, “Well, this is it.”

It suits him. It’s a simple utilitarian type of home. There’s an awning hanging off the front of the house, hovering over a chair and a metal bar to put your feet up. The front yard is grassy and rocky, with a tree and a small pond filled with frogs. It’s cute. You wonder if his son’s been here… if his wife’s been here.

“I’ll get you settled inside, and then I’ll go land the Crest in the back.”

He opens the door for you and shows you to the bedroom before leaving to get the Crest. And he was right, the house is bare bones. You explore while he’s gone. The kitchen has all its appliances but no table. The living room is just an empty room with a small couch. There’s a small bedroom next to his with a crib, presumably for his son. And his bedroom is just a bed, nothing more. You sit down on the bed and fantasize about what it would be like to live here with him, enjoying a simple, domestic life together. And now you’re really wondering if his wife’s been here.

The door opens and he enters the house, heading into the bedroom and asking you, “What do you think?”

“It’s nice, Din,” you reply as he sits down beside you.

He puts an arm around your shoulders and you two sit there in silence before you bring yourself to ask the question that’s been weighing heavily in your mind.

“Has your family been here?” you ask, purposely ignoring the word wife.

“Just Grogu.”

It shouldn’t make you feel special that you’ve been here and his wife hasn’t, but it does. Not that that really matters in the grand scheme of things. She’s married to him and you’re not.

You flop down on the bed and he lays down next to you, rolling over to his side and looking at you. He runs a hand along your side, tracing your outline. It isn’t long before his hand slips below the waistband of your pants and you let it happen, trying to ignore the mixture of melancholy and guilt swirling in your stomach.

“Do you want me, ca’tra?” he asks.

“Of course, Din.”

He moves to the edge of the bed, slipping off your pants and getting in between your legs. He runs a finger up and down your entrance. You’re already wet, but the truth is you’ve been wet since you stripped for him at the hot springs, getting off on his frustration.

“Do you ever want to feel it?” you ask.

“So bad,” he groans.

“Do it then.”

And he does, ripping off his gloves and tossing them on the floor before replacing his fingers on your cunt. You look at his hands, tanned with a few scars, and try to imagine what the rest of him looks like.

He slides a finger inside you and keeps it there for a moment, unmoving and feeling your wetness.

“Kriff, ca’tra,” he curses.

“Keep going.”

He adds a second finger and leans forward so his helmet is right in front of your face. He studies your face as he fingers you, curling them against your g-spot.

“Cum for me, mesh’la,” he says softly.

And you do, your walls fluttering around his fingers. When you’re done coming he pulls his hand from you, bringing his hand in front of his helmet and looking at the mess you made for him.

“Good girl,” he purrs.

You sit up and pull off your shirt over your head, spreading your thighs farther apart for him. He’s anxious to be inside you already, pulling out his cock and giving it a few strokes before aligning himself with your entrance.

He grabs your hand as he enters you, his body pressed up against yours under the dim light of his bedroom. For a moment when you have him like this, you pretend he’s all yours.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you and he curses under his breath again.

“Not gonna last long if you keep doing that, ca’tra,” he sort of half groans, half chuckles.

“Me neither,” you breathe out.

You writhe underneath him and before you know it you’re both coming simultaneously, panting against each other as you both ride out your highs. He pulls out of you once the final drop of his cum has been spilled inside you and lies down on the bed. It’s silent again for a moment, the small room only filled with the sounds of your breathing before you speak first.

“Thanks for bringing me here,” you say, starting to feel tired.

“Of course. Anywhere else you want to go?”

“Really anywhere,” you sigh, “But Coruscant has a lot to do.”

“Ugh, Coruscant.”

“Not a fan?” you chuckle.

“Too many people.”

“I’d honestly go anywhere but I’ve been dying to go to Aldhani.”

“I’ve vaguely heard of it.”

“Well, have you heard of the Eye of Aldhani?”

“No, what’s that?”

“Every three cycles the planet passes through a crystal belt and the crystals burn up in the atmosphere. It looks really beautiful. I’ve only ever seen pictures of it in the books at the library,” you say, finishing with a yawn.

“Wow, it sounds interesting. But you better get to sleep, ca’tra. You’ve had a long day.”

“Big day for sure,” you respond, getting under the blanket.

Din gets up to turn the light off and joins you under the covers.

“Goodnight, Din,” you whisper.

“Goodnight, ca’tra.”

Din

Din didn’t fall asleep as fast as you did. Instead he made a mental note to look up the Eye of Aldhani find out when the next one is. Even if it’s not happening anytime soon, he needs to take you there. He’d cross the entire galaxy and back if it meant putting a smile on your face.

In the morning when you both wake up, Din heads off to the market to fetch breakfast, and also some tracking fobs for a couple easy bounties from Karga. He has to keep up in the inflow of credits and supplies if he wants May to keep believing his lies.

He comes back to the house and you’re still sleeping. He sits on the edge of the bed and watches you while you peacefully rest. In his mind he’s yours and only yours. His marriage to May is one of obligation, out of keeping up appearances with the Mandalorian culture. But as for the one he has real romantic feelings for? It’s you without a doubt in his mind.

You wake up and greet him with a soft “good morning”. He wishes all of his mornings could be like this, waking up together after having sex the night before, eating breakfast together, and enjoying each other’s company. He wishes he could have you whenever he wanted, whatever time of day, not when it’s a convenient time for him to leave Mandalore. It makes his stomach hurt knowing he has to leave you again soon.

You spend the rest of the rotation lounging around the house, taking you back to the hot springs, spending time in his backyard, and even taking a trip to the market in the city center when it’s particularly dead.

That night he has you again, as many rounds as you’ll let him before your legs completely give out. For a moment it feels normal, like this is actually his life. But when he wakes up the next morning the fantasy starts to dismantle itself as it’s time to go. At least there’s alone time with you in the Crest on the way back to Naboo, he thinks to himself. And it’s a lot more enjoyable than the trip to Nevarro when you found out about May.

But eventually that comes to an end, too, and now he’s walking you back to your apartment building.

“Din,” you say softly before parting ways.

He’s holding you against him, reveling in the feeling of enjoying your presence before it’s ripped away from him.

“Leave your wife,” you say, barely even coming out as a whisper.

He says nothing, continuing to hold you and waiting to see if you say anything more. You don’t. Maybe you’re thinking that he didn’t hear you.

“Goodbye, ca’tra,” he says, pulling himself off of you despite how hard it is.

“Goodbye, Din,” you respond, turning and entering your building.

He watches until you’re out of his sight before letting out a sigh and heading to the library. Oh how he wishes he could leave May without destroying his reputation, destroying everything he’s worked so hard to rebuild. If he could leave May without becoming an apostate again he’d do it in a heartbeat. He’d bring you to Mandalore despite what people would say. It doesn’t matter what anyone would have to say about it because as long as he has his creed, Grogu, and you, he wouldn’t care about a single other thing in the galaxy.

While he’s at the library, he looks up the Eye of Aldhani. And you were right, the pictures are stunning. He thinks about your reaction when he takes you there and how happy you’ll be. He has to take you there. His mind is set on it. He looks at the date of the next one and to his surprise it’s soon, in about forty rotations. He looks up the best hyperspace route to get there from Naboo. And now with a formed plan in mind of when he’s going to see you again, he can rest a little bit. He heads back to the Crest and begins the long journey home.

The next few rotations are a blur. Din feels like he’s going through the motions, like he’s on autopilot. He grabs the two bounties, heads back to Nevarro, collects the credits, buys some things needed back on Mandalore, and immediately makes the trip back. No crashing at the house this time, for a couple reasons. Going there would remind him too much of you and the faster he gets back to Mandalore the faster he can leave again.

He lands on Mandalore and feels the dread build in his stomach. Time to put on a facade. He hauls all of the items off the Crest and heads back to his house. In his absence May has painted the family signet on the front of the house.

When he returns home May is overjoyed to see him and so is Grogu. May has her helmet off and Din can barely look her in the eye, even with his own helmet on.

“How was it?” she asks, “I know you said one of the bounties gave you some trouble.”

“He did but it just took some more of my time. That’s all,” he lies.

May looks at the items he brought and says, “Thank you, Din. You work so hard to provide for us.”

A lump forms in his throat. He feels ill. May doesn’t deserve any of this; any of his lies. She’s a good person. She’s a well respected member of the tribe. She’s a skilled warrior. She’s great with Grogu. She puts up with Din’s long absences. But when it comes down to it, he doesn’t love her. And that will probably never change.

That night when they’re laying in bed she asks if they could have sex again. It’s the last thing he wants to do, especially now that in his mind he’s fully pledged to you. But he’s also tired and he tells her that. At least that part isn’t a full lie.

May understands. Of course she does. She has to be one of the most patient people in the galaxy to put up with Din and his many excuses.

That night his dreams are filled with you like they always are. Except this time you’re on Aldhani together, watching the colorful sky above you without a care in the world.

So close yet so out of reach.

Chapter Six

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