So Ill Be Waiting For People To Start Writing For This Guy

So I’ll be waiting for people to start writing for this guy…

OP pls. Where is the mando gif from????

I found it on twitter (the @ on twitter responsible for the post, shows explicit sexual content, so beware if you go on there account to see more of their content. THEIR ACCOUNT IS NOT BASED ON THE MANDALORION FRANCHISE, IT’S SOLEY BASES ON PORN GIFS!)

OG

The Distance

Pairing: Din Djarin x Pilot F!Reader (reader is petite/no other descriptors)

Summary: A love that can go the distance.

Warnings/Notes: Spoilers for TBOBF will appear in this fic. Canon-divergent. Canon-typical violence. Slow burn.

Rating: T/M for now, will eventually become E (chapters containing smut will be marked with **)

Chapters

Chapter 1 /// Chapter 2 /// Chapter 3

Chapter 4 /// Chapter 5 /// Chapter 6

Chapter 7 /// Chapter 8 /// Chapter 9

Chapter 10 /// Chapter 11

Art

The Chimera’s floorplan

Main Masterlist

↳ 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄

Gif not mine!

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Joel Miller x afab!fem reader

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Ellie finds an old chessboard somewhere in Jackson and asks you to teach her how to play. Joel joins and isn’t too happy about loosing three times against you.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), age gap (reader is in her mid twenties, Joel is early fifties), sex, p in v, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, use of whore (like once), pet names (darling, sweetheart, angel), multiple orgasms, they do it on the table, cum eating, bit of angst, insecure Joel, canon divergency, probably ooc Joel and Ellie, mentions of death and loss, alcohol consumption, confessing feelings. Let me know if I missed something!

a/n: this one’s a bit rushed but I wanted to post it before my birthday so I apologize if it isn’t great. Anyways, I’m writing a second Javi fic, so if you liked 𝐌Í𝐀 I’m certain you’re going to love the next one:)

no use of y/n

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

"You're cheating." Ellie rambles, standing up to get a better view of the board and analyze it from different angles. You can't help but giggle at her childish attitude, cause it truly brought a certain joy to the dynamic. "Hey! It's not funny."

"How could I cheat? You were watching my game the whole time." You defend you case, raising your hands in a sign of peace but gaining a glare from the girl.

"I don't know, you're the one who's teaching me." In that moment, you hear the crack of the front door opening, but none of you bother to stand and greet the main resident of the house, too busy in your own matters.

"Look, I'm playing fair. I am simply older and more experienced than you." Ellie grimaces and sits back on the chair, both arms crossed over her chest. "But try not to feel too bad. I've always been really good at chess."

Joel enters the dining room and walks right past you, going straight to the kitchen. You guess he's either going for a beer or to pour some whiskey into his favorite glass. Always the same routine every weekend: he would come home late with absolutely no explanations as to where he was, drink something strong and spend some time with both of you before heading to bed.

"You must be a really good strategist, then." She replies, amused. "I’ve heard this game is all about that. Strategies."

When you're about to respond, the man's heavy footsteps get closer as he comes to the room once again and leans back on the wall opposite to you, a glass of whiskey on his hand. His grayish hair is messy and his eyes seem to shine brighter under the warm light hanging over your heads when he looks at you intently. Often, he would appear exhausted after being off all day, but tonight it was different. Something about him was, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it.

Ellie must've sensed a shift in the air, since she changed her approach in a second. "Joel, you're pretty ancient. I bet you know how to play."

You hold back your laughter at her mocking comment, reaching the board to rearrange the pieces. He cocked an eyebrow in her direction, straightening his posture nonchalantly.

"I'm more of a poker man," he retorts with a distant air, diverting his gaze to Ellie.

"Poker?" You frown as he comes your way, but doesn't take a sit just yet. "I didn't take you for a gambler, Miller."

He sets the glass down on the table, leaning over the chair next to you with a smirk. "M'not. There’s many ways of playing other than betting your money, f’you know what I mean.”

Your eyes widen at his response, taken aback. So he meant like… The one were you end up naked. “Now, I would’ve expected that from Tommy, but you? That’s a surprise.”

He shrugs, faded smile still on his lips.

You remembered what Ellie once told you, ‘he does that whenever you’re around,’ she had said in a meditative tone, ‘smile, I mean. It’s kind of creepy cause… y’know, he never does.’ Perhaps that’s why she acted differently every time you three were together.

“Yeah, whatever.” The girl grumbles. “Can you play chess or not? I need someone to take revenge for me.”

Joel takes a seat beside you, slowly, glancing over the board before sipping from his drink again. He looks back at Ellie, whose eyes were sparkling with excitement. The man sighs in defeat, well aware that he just couldn’t say no to her. A dad reflex, maybe, but it worked out in her favor and she’d take advantage of it as much as she could.

“Fine. I call black.” You nod in agreement and the younger one leans on her elbows for a better view. “Either way, I know you like making the first moves. Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

Your first reaction was almost choking on your own saliva. Honestly, how dare he say something like that in front of Ellie? Did he suddenly forget that she was fourteen and terribly clever? Had he lost his mind? Also, he never called you by anything other than your name whenever she was around, so this whole situation felt like a personal attack.

“You okay over there?” Ellie asked, slightly concerned at your incessant coughing.

“Yeah…” you give him a dirty look and press a hand to your chest, making the first move with a white pawn. “Could you bring me some water? I think my soul might’ve left my body.”

“Sure.” She quickly answers, standing up. Joel doesn’t say anything else, his mind focused only on the game now.

It had all happened last weekend.

Thinking in retrospective, your relationship with him had always been ambiguous. You couldn’t quite recall when he actually started talking to you and not just ‘bear with your presence’, nor when his invitations to come over to his place started coming from him and not Ellie.

At first, it was simply you and her. Bonding was easy, despite her sharp character. She looked up to you, for whatever reason that might be, and that smoothed things. Joel was a completely different story. He acted like you didn’t exist, as if you were merely another bug roaming his house. Though when he saw how good your friendship with Ellie was, his brusque behavior started to fade, or at least settle down somehow.

Sooner than later you started coming over to make dinner, or teach the teenager how to bake some of the recipes your grandmother had thought you -more like you’d do everything while she chatted to keep you entertained-. But truth be told, it became more of an excuse to see him.

Honestly, you were doomed since the very beginning. There was undeniably no way you would’ve been able to escape Joel Miller’s silent charm. His presence became a constant need to you, and you’d often find yourself relating certain things to him. Smoke, denim, pills, booze, watches and boots, to mention a few. To you, he was all gray and blue, merging in the best way possible.

You didn’t expect him to thank you for taking care of them. Them. Not just Ellie, him too. Or that he’d suddenly show up to places you would frequent, which made you wonder, could he possibly feel the same way? Sure, it could’ve been a simple coincidence… If it weren’t for the stolen looks you’d often share. Though his face rarely reflected any interest in you, his piercing gaze would frequently burn your skin every time you were hanging out with other men.

Two weeks ago, Maria had been held back from patrol due to her pregnancy, and you were called to fill up her place. The thing is, you were supposed to leave with Tommy, but somehow ended up with his older brother, riding at dawn in utter silence and searching for a prey to hunt. It wasn’t particularly uncomfortable, yet it allowed you to watch him more attentively: his broad shoulders and sturdy back, the dark graying hair that, in some way, made him more attractive. And then your mind, went to some… Darker places.

How would his big, manly hands feel cupping your breasts? Flashy images of his rough, calloused fingers pinching your nipples meandered your mind. His face buried between your legs, his mustache tickling your…

“You ‘kay there, sweetheart?” He had asked, abruptly taking you out of your freakish daydreaming. “You seem distracted.”

Well, that was a way of putting it. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just…” you babbled, “I hate the rifle.” Joel glanced back at you with a stiff, confused expression. “If I shoot this thing, I’ll feel the kickback on my shoulders and back for at least two weeks from now.”

The horses were stagnant, waiting by the trees while you took a stroll nearby, keeping an eye for any sort of animal that would serve for dinner.

“Show me.” He said, internally amused by your inquiring expression. “Show me how you hold it.”

“Oh…” You compeled, in spite of the anxiety his stern eyes brought upon you.

“You’re doin’ it wrong.” He grunted, coming to approach you, still holding the position.

You scowled, raising a brow to him but not daring to move a muscle. “Maybe you’re just making me nervous, did you think about that?”

Joel plants himself behind you, staying so close that you could feel the warmth of his body through the many layers of clothing. Your heartbeat races when his hand rearranges the rifle on your elbow, unintentionally wrapping his arms around you.

“You need to hold it like this.” His tone was low but still firm. “Keep it up.” You feel his chest pressed to your back and his face near yours, making it hard to breathe.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, cause if your head turns even a little, you fear the distance between you might as well disappear. His hand holds your wrist steady, the other one going from your elbow to your waist in a tight grip that makes you gasp.

“Do I make you nervous?” He questioned, without letting you go. Paying no mind to the way your nerves buzzed and ears rang at the proximity, you slowly nodded. “Are you afraid of me?”

His doubt made your heart jump and knit your brows together. “No. I trust you.” Joel’s breath hit your temple and it took all the self control in your body not to get rid of the distance.

“You shouldn’t.” Both his hands are on your waist in a firm grasp. He definitely noticed your flushed cheeks, the ragged breathing and constant desire to look at him. Like a damn teenager in love. You gulp, trying to regain composure.

“And why is that?” He didn’t answer, and every second that passed and his hands were still on you only made it worse. You needed to get closer or your lungs would crush under the weight of expectation. “Joel?”

You finally gave in, raising your head to face him. He was already looking down at you, eyes smitten and lost. A reflection of him you’d never seen before. Your gaze goes to his lips and inevitably lick your own before going up to his deep, brown eyes again.

Fucking hell, the man was mesmerizing.

Before you even knew what you were doing, you’re leaning forward, completely forgetting about the rifle and the whole world around you. Your noses touch and your lips merely brush against each other’s. Instinctively, you close your eyes in hopes that he’d go for it.

But he didn’t.

Instead, his hand comes to arrange your posture again, murmuring a lazy ‘easy’ in your ear, that shared moment vanishing in thin air.

“When shooting a weapon this big, you gotta bring your strength from your torso and legs.” And then he acted like nothing happened; nevertheless, he was perfectly aware of the effect he had on you. “That way it won’t hurt after.”

Well shit. Now you had screwed up.

This man was like a father to Ellie and you were not only infatuated with him, but also add to the list that you had purposely tried to kiss him. You were embarrassed, to say the least. Specially since it appeared that whatever feelings you had were one-sided.

Or so you thought, up until last Saturday.

You hadn’t talked with him about it. In fact, you hadn’t even been alone with him ever since. It was probably for the best, though, that way you wouldn’t have to humiliate yourself in front of him any further. Every time you happened to cross paths, he seemed aloof, more indifferent than usual.

It was pretty late, probably past midnight and Joel hadn’t yet arrived. You had spent all day with Ellie and now you were just waiting for his return, but she was growing tired and you didn’t think it was fair for her to stay up for too long.

“Go to bed, okay? I’ll wait for him.” You told her with a smile.

“Nah, don’t worry. I’m not even…” whatever she was going to say got cut off by her yawn.

“Right. You were saying?” She rolled her eyes and snorted at your victorious air.

“Fine. But promise you won’t stay for too long. I’d hate to know you didn’t get any sleep because of me.” You agreed and said everything would be fine, that she had nothing to worry about.

So you waited there on his living room, reading old crappy magazines about celebrity gossip while facing the crackling fire that kept the house warm. It was easy to lose track of time this way, therefore, when the door opened at last, you had no idea how long you had been waiting around. You rushed to his encounter, but you were totally unprepared for what happened next.

“Jesus Christ, Joel. Are you- shit…” the man standing ahead was someone you knew, but could barely recognize. The side of his face was bleeding, a cut going from his temple to the cheekbone and there were bruises scattered around it. He was sweating and you could swear he was about to faint.

You closed the door behind him, tugging his shoulder to drag him inside, all the way to the kitchen. Despite his rumbles of protest, Joel allowed you to do it, putting up no resistance. His mind was screaming at him to tell you that you should leave and that he didn’t need any help. But he was too fucking exhausted and you were being so kind and warm… He just couldn’t bring himself to do it, ignoring the part of his brain that kept telling him ‘you’ll regret this later’. For once in a very long time, he was being irrational, letting another part of him take control; or rather lose it completely.

You sat him down on a chair and took a clean towel, wetting it with cold water to treat the wound. In addition, you also took the bottle of whiskey that he kept locked away where Ellie wouldn’t find it, pouring him a glass. He gulps it down straight away.

Joel observes your every move closely. Your steady hands going to his chin and raising his face to the light, the way your features drown in concern and your dazzling eyes examine the injury. His skin burnt there where you touched him and it was becoming hard for him to keep his mind focused, growing dizzier with pain and intoxicated by your perfume. He really shouldn’t be feeling this way, and it burdens him to know it. Your lovely, young self shouldn’t be an object of his desire; and the fact that you were what he wanted the most was killing him achingly slow.

Because, even if you did want him back, what good could it possibly come from the whole thing? He’d just hold you back. There were plenty of other men in Jackson that could offer you things he certainly couldn’t. Yeah, that was it. He was way too corrupted to be deserving of someone like you.

“Does it hurt too much?” You muttered while getting rid of the blood, careful not to be too harsh.

“S’okay, angel.” The name-calling wasn’t something you usually liked. It sounded condescending coming from other men, but when he did it, your stomach fluttered. “Were you waiting for me?”

You nod vaguely, “I was worried.” His eyes bore into yours and your heart skips a beat. “I mean we. We were worried.”

“Right…” He noticed how your fingers brushed the hair out of his face tenderly, his self-control threatening to crumble under your touch with every second that went by. His hand takes your wrist, preventing you from keeping up your work. For a moment, he says nothing, simply staring at you fixedly. “I think you should leave.” He blurts out, letting go of you.

Oh, there they were. Those mixed signs that you always seemed to misinterpret.

You groan in exasperation, leaving the bloody towel beside the bottle of alcohol. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I don’t need your pity.” Joel was being petty and his deliver managed to hurt a little. But you would not give him that much power, at least not without putting up a fight.

“It’s not about that and you know it.” You cross both arms over your chest and sit on the edge of the table, determined to get out of that agog that wouldn’t let you sleep. “Why are you pushing me away?”

He rubs a hand over his face, taking his time to retort and avoiding your eyes. “I can’t give you what you want.”

You laugh sardonically, challenging him. “And what is that?” His gaze is disdainful and rude, but you don’t let him intimidate you. “Are you afraid?”

If you were anyone else, you’d be shaking with fear. Joel was tough, to the point where some might call him cynical. But you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. His goal was to scare you off.

“Go. I don’t need you here.” You don’t move an inch, resolved to bring an end to whatever this was and ignoring his vicious glare.

“No,” you huffed.

“I told you to leave.” He was getting pissed, his voice trembling with anger and the cold words slicing the tense air.

“And I said no. I don’t take orders from you.” His lips were sealed in a fine line, eyes feisty. “Be honest with me and then I’ll see myself out.”

Silence again. A more prolonged one in which none of you had the bravery to come forward. Every second that went on and nothing happened was a torture you could not endure. That was it then, you’d made a fool of yourself yet again.

“Fine.” Your voice comes out unsteady from choking down the tears as you stand up straight, set on leaving all these feelings behind.

But right when you walk by his side, Joel’s hand grabs your arm softly. His grip wasn’t strong enough to hold you back if you really wanted to go, kind of like he was unsure about his own actions.

“Push me away.” He pleads. And it sounds desperate, as if the whole situation caused him agony. “Please, push me away.”

Your wet your lips, astonished by how guilty he appeared when practically begging you to stay away, “I can’t,” you respond, “I won’t.”

There was no turning back now. He had trapped himself on purpose and jeopardized everything the moment he laid his hand on you. The minute your eyes found each other’s, he realized he’d just lost all willpower that remained.

Joel pulled you closer and the sudden action almost made you trip, forcing you to place both hands on his chest to stay still. Something flicked in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite comprehend. But you took it as a sign to fully give in to your desires, as long as he’d permit it. You sit on his lap, solely enjoying the moment. His face, despite the beating, was ever so beautiful. It wasn’t fair. If he wanted you too, why did he have make it this difficult? Perhaps he was simply… Insecure.

“What have you done to me, sweetheart?” He asked, voice strained as he looks down at your lips. Your fingertips gently trace the edges of his face.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” One of his hands covers your thigh and the other rests on his knee.

“Do you like playin’ around with an old man like me?” You can’t help but laugh a bit, your thumb going across his bottom lip. “Is this what you want? A sweet thing like you can do so much better.”

“I don’t care for boys, or any other men for that matter.” His chest swells at your words. “I like you, Joel. Is that so hard to believe?” The man swears you can feel his heart thumping against his ribs when he whispers a barely audible ‘yes’. His honesty moved you and grew a weird feeling in your chest that impelled you to prove him wrong.

In response, you lastly get rid of that awful distance, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips and feeling the unfamiliar tickle of his mustache. It was stubborn at first, but he caved in eventually, kissing you back slowly. He took his time to relish on your taste before deepening the kiss, manhandling you on top of him. Joel’s hands are on your lower back and the nape of your neck as his tongue explores your mouth in depth, letting go of himself. You moaned in between the kiss, drunken by every light stimulation, which only spurred him on and turned the situation hungrier, more desperate.

“Joel…” you pull back, laying your forehead against his. “I have to go.”

You feel him chuckle at your declaration. “Seriously? Now?” His tone was raspy and faint.

“I don’t want to.” You assure with a pout, “But I fear that if I stay, this won’t end in a simple kiss. And Ellie’s upstairs, remember?” He agreed it was for the best, but still couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself, asking you to stay the night even if he had to sleep on the couch.

That was the night that started everything.

After that weekend, the way he acted changed radically. He remained with that grim, stoic exterior. Yet, he was brighter around you, more beaming. In public, he’d always find a way to touch you, even if it was merely a brief brush of skin. On bolder days, he’d pull you apart from a crown and take you somewhere darker to make out for as long as you could. Which wasn’t much, since everyone always appeared to have some sort of unresolved business with either of you.

Today, however, something was odd. Joel went off, as usual, and you stayed with Ellie, who had found an old, ragged chessboard somewhere in Jackson. A game that, as it turns out, you particularly loved.

That’s how you ended up here.

Three rounds afterwards, you keep winning and increasing his irritation.

“Checkmate.” You say for the fifth time tonight, giving him a triumphant smile, getting up from your seat to pour some whiskey into your glass.

“You’re cheating.” He barks, annoyed.

“See! I told you.” Ellie backed him up and the way they teamed up to bash you almost made you giggle.

“Suck it up, losers!” You shout from the kitchen, entertained by their resentment.

“Spill your secrets then, otherwise I will simply not be convinced.” She replies, glowering.

The drink nearly dissolves on your tongue and you leave the glass on the counter, coming to join them again. You rest both hands on her shoulders in a friendly gesture.

“My grandpa thought me when I was young. Before the outbreak, I mean.” Ellie turns her head to look at you in interest. “He got sick afterwards… Forgetful and amnesiac.” You explain, “Chess stimulated his brain and since I was his only family left, we would spend hours playing.” Joel’s chest feels heavy at the sight of your nostalgic smile. “We had a great time together. He… Passed away a couple years ago.” Ellie takes your hand on her own in a comforting manner, but you don’t feel particularly sad, simply emotional about the past. “Hey, kiddo. Didn’t you have a movie night with Dina today?”

“Shit!” Her eyes widen. “Thanks for the reminder, I totally lost track of time,” she gets up with an apologetic smile, “I’m gonna head out now.” She quickly takes a jacket and ties her hair up. “You guys can keep playing or… I don’t know, just don’t wait around for me.”

And just like that, you’re left alone.

After an entire week of sneaking around and behind everyone’s back, you’re finally alone.

There’s a shift in the air of the room and you narrow your eyes when you gape at him. “You think she knows something?”

He tilts his head to the side and finishes his whiskey. “Probably. Can’t know for sure.” The vague answer made you shrug, deciding to put a pin to it for later.

Now that no one was around, you were determined to have some fun, coming up with a plan that could escalate things between you. And he surely thought so too. It wouldn’t be difficult to get his attention, since he was constantly monitoring your every move. Being that way, you intentionally stand beside him when leaning to reorder the pieces, giving him a very good view of your ass.

“Another round?” You ask tauntingly, “Or are you already tired of getting defeated?”

He grunts, upset by the previous resolutions. “I’d like to play another game.” You turn around with a cheeky smile. “One that I won’t lose.”

“And what would that be?” He gives you a darkened, intense glance, his lips pursed in a smirk.

Joel Miller was a man of few words and he totally lived up to it. Instead of responding, he grabbed your hips and dragged your body to the side, so that you were now standing between his legs, lingering against the edge of the table. You swallow hard, meeting his heavy gaze from above him. It made your pulse raise and blood rush, igniting something that you haven’t quite felt with anyone else yet. He presses a kiss to your clothed abdomen, eyes never wandering from yours as he lowers his lips to your pelvis, lifting your shirt leisurely.

“Look at you, darlin’. All flustered and I’ve barely done anything.” Your chest rises and falls methodically, the atmosphere feeling dense despite the chilly air. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips when he starts laying open-mouthed kisses along your exposed belly, sending shivers through your whole body, “Off,” he motions at your clothes.

You do as told, getting rid of the shirt and tossing it to the floor. His big, warm hands strain your movements as he explores your skin, kissing all the way up to the valley of your breasts.

“Joel…” you take a fistful of his hair and pull at it mildly, just enough to yank his head backwards and bring your lips together, swallowing a whimper from him.

The kiss is ambitious, all teeth and tongue, as if you had been craving each other for long and had just barely given in. He swiftly stands up and sits you at the end of the table, spreading your knees to settle in between your thighs. He parts from your mouth and traces your jawline, neck and collarbones, nibbling and sucking the sensitive skin, lightly scraping it with his facial hair. You were a mess at this point, panting and tugging at him as if you were about to collapse. But then he stops, breathing heavily against your chest and looking up to you with dark, lustful eyes.

“What- Did I do something wrong?” You stutter with uncertainty.

“Ain’t nothing wrong, angel.” His hand rests heavy on your thigh, a mischievous grin painted on his face. “But I told you we’d play a different game, didn’t I?”

This new side of him was exciting in many ways possible and whatever it was he wanted to do, you were certain it was going to be fun. And, possibly, a bit tortuous. You peer at him in expectation.

“Make your move.” He commanded, pointing the board with a succinct head movement. You obligue, choosing a random pawn and moving it with shaky hands while struggling to think straight. The man hums and decides to mirror your tactic. “Keep goin’.”

Next thing you know his fingers unhook your bra and you have to make a quick choice in spite of all the distractions. At the end, you go for a horse, barely capable of register anything other than his hands taking off the piece of clothing. After contemplating your scheme, he moves another pawn in return.

“Shit.” He hissed at the sight of your exposed tits, nipples hard from the cold air and arousal. “Focus.”

You weren’t sure if that last order was for him or for you, but either way the game kept going. He had enough attention span to grope your breasts and tweak your nipples between the pads of his calloused fingers, while also moving the chess pieces around. You couldn’t say the same for yourself; a louder moan escaping your lips when he replaced his fingers with his mouth.

The more ministrations he provided, the harder it became to make strategic moves. But you were determined not to let him win, regardless of the ache between your legs and the growing wetness in your panties that he refused to attend.

“Joel, I…” He takes away one of your rooks, his lips attached to your neck and hands caressing your inner thighs. “I need more.”

He huffs a laugh that vibrates through your lower body. “That right, angel? Tell me what you want.”

You take away his only bishop left and hear him growl at his approaching defeat. “Touch me, please.”

“Where?” His scent fogs your senses, so manly and distinctive of him, growing the need to feel him in any way possible. “Words, sweetheart.”

“I need your fingers in my cunt, Joel.” You spit out, watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down his throat and increasing his arousal with your lack of coyness. “Please.”

“Anything for my pretty girl.” He unbuttons your pants and slides one hand inside, palming your pussy over the underwear, altering your breathing pattern and moving the queen with his free hand. “Fuck, you’re drippin’.” You grind against his hand and his grip on your waist tightens to keep you still as he kneads circles on your clit over the thin fabric. “Your turn, darlin’.”

The game carries on at the same time as he moves your panties aside and slides two thick fingers inside your entrance, his thumb still fondling your nub slowly. You can’t keep your moans at low and the stimulation picks up when he curls his digits to hit your right spots. All that can be heard in the room is the cracking wood of the fireplace and the squelching sounds of your pussy.

“Jesus Christ, Joel…” you cry out his name, burying your face on the crook of his neck, grabbing the soft flannel in your fists and spilling all your whimpers into his ear, delighting yourself with the way he smelt. He groans at the feeling of your bare chest pressed to him, his cock throbbing painfully at every sound you’d make.

“You like that, darlin’? You like to fuck my fingers on top of this table like a needy little whore?” You clench around him and throw your head back, a new wave of slick coating all the way to his knuckles. “Ah, so you do like it.”

“Yes, Joel. I-” he speeds up his pace, greedily circling your clit in a way that makes your back arch, giving him a glorious view from his position.

“Fuck, you’re so hot. Been wanting to do this for so fuckin’ long…” He admits, peppering kisses all over your breasts.

“Me too. Thought about you when I-” your voice gets lost at the sudden feeling of heat settling on your lower stomach, building up your crescendo. “When I was alone.” Your confession only manages to prompt him further and make his movements more effective. You squirm under his touch, a hand messing his hair while the other holds his belt to keep him close.

He groans a deep ‘fuck’ at the pathetic sound you made. All because of him. No; all of them for him.

“Joel, I’m- shit, I’m close,” there’s a hotness on the pit of your stomach that extends to your legs.

“I know, angel.” He coos, his free hand brushing the hair out of your face. “Go ahead, do it.” His words are all it takes for your orgasm to hit, shocking every nerve on your body. He helps you come down from it, tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin as your body quivers from elation.

“Joel…” you whisper, both your hands on his belt and going to unbuckle it, watching as he takes both fingers to his lips and licks them clean.

“Sweet” he kisses you again, deeply. You happily return it with the same energy, nibbling at his bottom lip while your palm slides inside his jeans to feel up his bulge over the underwear. He muffles a moan in your mouth, his hot, hard cock twitching under your grip.

Your hand drifts inside his boxers to feel him directly, your thumb rubbing over the tip to spread the surprising amount of precum that oozed there. Joel gasped into your mouth, the sound prompting you further.

“Checkmate.” You tell him, pulling back only when you needed to breathe, guiding your finger to your tongue in order to taste him. “I won.”

His eyes divert to the board in awe, and you admire his mesmerized expression when he confirms that you had, in fact, won again. Joel comes back to dote on your devilish grin, fueled up by a new thrill of excitement.

“Fuck this…” he mutters through gritted teeth, mindlessly tossing the board to the side and letting it fall off the table along with all the pieces, making an absolute mess. It appears like he doesn’t even register any of it, going straight back to kissing you, his hands sliding your pants down your legs.

“Shit, Joel…” You can’t help but laugh at his reaction, encouraged by his sudden passion.

As your lips collide once again, you start to unbutton his shirt and he helps you out of your jeans, along with your very wet panties. He pushes your back against the wooden surface, holding you down with a hand around your neck.

“Winners that boast in their victory are only brats.” He snarls, taking his dick out for you to see. Your mouth waters at the sight of it: thick, bigger than you could’ve expected, the head swollen and glistening. “Brats need to be tamed.”

You whine when he parts your thighs even wider, teasing your slit with his tip, covering it in your slick and intentionally grazing your aching clit, urging you to grab his bicep for support.

“Can’t you just fuck me already?” You blurt out, the sensation only edging you more. “I might just cum again from all the teasing.”

His fingertip sweeps across your bottom lip, an eyebrow raised. “You really that sensitive, angel?” He questions, “Or is it just because of me?”

The inquiry nearly makes you crack up. Damn, the man was totally clueless. “Are you really that unaware of the effect you have on me?”

His stare reflects how pleased he is to hear that. “How many times did you beat me tonight, sweetheart?”

It takes an actual effort for you to recall and muster up an answer when he keeps toying with you so mercilessly. “Three, I presume.”

Joel’s hand slithers to your lower back, keeping you angled for him. “Then I’ll get you off three times.” Your heart jumps at the sentence and you look at him in disbelief. “Can you do that, angel?”

Three fucking times?

When your whole life men had only ever given you… None, practically. One at most, if you were lucky enough. And Joel mother-fucking Miller had the nerve to ask if you could handle three.

“Bet.” The answer is music to his ears, giving in once and for all as he enters you unhurriedly.

He’s so big and you feel him splitting you open exquisitely, the sensation fading any thoughts, beliefs or identities from your mind. Right now, all you know is him. It stings a little and it forces you to screw your eyes shut, letting out a small whine as he bottoms out, your nails digging on his arm.

“You’re doing s’good, baby.” He continues to say in midst of it, talking your way through it, “Taking me so well…” You think it’s somewhat unfair that he’s still fully clothed and you’re naked as the day you came; yet, at the moment your mind can’t even think of anything but his cock, buried deep inside you. “If something feels off or it becomes to much… Let me know and I’ll stop.” You nod, eagerness starting to scratch your insides.

“Yes. Now can you please, please start moving.” He holds back a chuckle, gazing at you from above, barely lifting your hips to feel more of him.

“Atta girl,” he obeys, thrusting his hips sharply and deep. “Look so pretty beggin’ to be fucked.” His big arm travels to the arch in your back, withdrawing and pushing in again, slowly losing his consciousness to pleasure.

“Fucking hell, you fill me up so good…” he moans gruffly at your comment, pulling you down on his cock as he picks up an unrelenting pace, hitting every right spot as if he knew them all by memory.

“Shit, you’re so tight,” Joel drags in an out, rejoicing himself in every high pitched moan you’d spill. Your legs wrap around his waist in an effort to keep him as close as you could.

The angle is very intimate, his whole body flushed against yours, warm and firm, while your hand snakes under his flannel to dig your nails on his bare shoulders, the other scratching his scalp delicately and Joel’s hot, erratic breaths hitting your face as you gape at him. It’s like everything else disappeared and it was all about the two of you and this moment of pure rapture. Unable to contain your urge, you search for his lips, kissing him one more time, the mixture of mint and alcohol in his mouth fogging your senses in the best way possible.

His tip nudges your g-spot relentlessly, the stretch his girth provided so satisfying that you clench around him as your second orgasm approaches, causing him to pull apart from the kiss and let out a sinful groan, deep from his throat, that sends a shudder up your spine. It all becomes too much; the friction of your delicate nipples with his shirt, his thick cock dragging against your walls and lastly, Joel’s teeth biting down the soft skin under your ear, his facial hair scraping deliciously. That is your cum button.

“That’s my girl, making a mess on my dick,” he fucks you through it, slowing down his pace and only pulling out when your legs tremble. “Say it darlin’, tell me who you belong to.”

“You, Joel…” he basks in the view of your fucked out self, looking up at him in a delirious state, eyes low, heat soared across your cheeks and lips plumped. “Shit, Miller,” you sit up, arm still hanging around his broad shoulders while his hard, throbbing cock rested against your thigh. “You’re so fucking hot, did you know that? It drives me insane.”

He laughs huskily, his big hand caressing the side of your face in a caring manner. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he speaks softly, “I think I might’ve fucked you so hard I scrambled your brain.”

You actually crack up this time, pressing a kiss to his forehead and muttering an: “Idiot.” He grabs your thighs and methodically swirls your body, flushing your back against his chest. Without warning, he slams into you again, making you yelp at the sudden action.

“You’ve got a dirty mouth,” he pokes fun at you, “next time we’ll put it to use.” And the promise raises goosebumps on your skin.

This new position gave you the opportunity to feel him deeper, if that was even possible. His thighs and hips firm against yours, every single snap making you feel that delicious stretch he provided as your cunt envelopes him tightly. But you were already far too sensitive and every light touch added to his thrusts made your body feel weaker.

“Joel, I-” he holds you with an arm covering your waist, his fingers pinching your nipples. “Fuck, I won’t last…”

His becomes more vocal, his disjointed moans drifting from his lips right into your ear while the hand on your hip makes its way to rub your clit gloriously, in a way that makes you wonder just how the fuck does he know exactly what your body likes.

“Is my sweet girl gonna cum for me?” you nod, unable to form any words, only capable of reveling on the way his cock throbs inside you. “Speak, remember?”

But you can’t. Nothing comes out of your mouth besides his name, like a constant plea. When the third one finally came, it was simply euphoric; your whole body shudders and your vision goes white, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes as you start to feel lightheaded. Joel draws out with a grunt, a string of curses leaving his lips as you spin around to see him. Your hand wraps around his own when he fucks his fist and you take in the sight of him cumming all over your fingers, his forehead laying on your shoulder as you milk him. Inevitably, you lick your fingers to taste his salty load. A sight that would be engraved in his brain for the rest of his days and that could possibly haunt him in his time apart from you.

“Checkmate my ass,” he grits between shaky breaths, your hand stroking his hair as he comes down from his high.

“What a sore loser…” you joke. In fact, you plan to say something more, but you feel too tired for anything.

It didn’t really matter, though. Joel took good care of you. He bathed with you, cleaned up the whole mess and gave you one of his shirts for you to sleep with, eventually going to bed with your very passed out self.

Well, if Ellie didn’t know anything before, she surely will now.

𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 📱 ꒱ 𝐚𝐢 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬.

𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐧. ➜ well… you and Joel have discussion that all started with a really stupid joke.

𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐞. ➜ joel is so cute and you can’t help yourself.

𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞. ➜ you and Joel have a conversation about make out sessions.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 📝 ꒱ 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠.

wip

— 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

"In Your Loving Arms"

Mand'alor Din Djarin × pregnant!reader

Word Count: 3822

❗This post contains explicit content intended for adults. Do not interact with this post if you're a minor.

Summary: Your beloved husband Din Djarin, back from a long mission, fulfils your naughty wishes.

Warnings: pregnancy, pregnant sex, breeding kink, creampie, dirty talk, dom/sub tones, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f receiving), use of pet names, established relationship, wife/husband

You look at your growing belly in the mirror and realize how much the little baby inside has changed you. Your skin is as silky and delicate as moonlight, and your hair and face glow as if dusted with sun dust. But that isn't the only thing that has changed in you. Your breasts have also changed as they prepare to feed the light inside you; your growing breasts are so big that they refuse to fit into the breast band. But that doesn't matter to Din; he can bury his face between your tits and spend his days exploiting you. Your thighs and groin joined the trend of your body, getting bigger and bigger. Honestly, Din has no complaints; it drives him crazy to see you swelling and being round every day. You are like this because of him; he fucked you so well that you are pregnant with his baby, and he likes the idea that everyone knows it.

Din adores your body; he yearns to hold you in his arms constantly, kiss your skin, and fuck you like there is no tomorrow. You bind his hands and feet, and the idea of a second without you makes him feel as though he is dying. For him, everything starts and ends with you. You are the gunpowder that ignites him; every time he touches you, the blood in his veins electrifies, and his brain goes numb from the love he feels for you. 

And before he met you, he wasn't even sure he felt these things: the need to shield and protect, the longing, and most of all, love .

You are his, he is yours, and nothing in the universe can change that.

Footsteps echoing down the corridor bring you out of the state of mind you are in.

"Mesh'la?  Where are you?"

Din's muffled voice is getting closer; you think he must have stopped by the throne room before heading to your side to give Mandalorians the last orders of the week.

You respond, "I'm in the bedroom, my king," with a joyful tone because your riduur is finally home after a week that seemed to last forever.

"Look at you, princess."

And there he is, standing by the large oak doors of the room, helmet in his hands, looking at you with those big brown eyes yearningly.

"Oh, Din," you breathe, "Welcome home, Ner Mand'alor."

It's as if the room around you has been absorbed by space; all you can see is him now. His presence pervades every cell in your body, and your heart aches; you love him so much that you are surprised how such love is possible.

Before embracing you, he puts down his helmet on the nightstand along with his blaster and the Darksaber.

With four broad steps, he takes his place behind you, his strong arms wrapping around you as he buries his face in the hollow between your shoulder and neck.

"You have no idea how much I miss you, mesh'la."

The words spill out of his mouth one by one as his lips move over your warm skin; his stubbly beard, which hasn't been shaved in days, tickles you. You try to ignore the heat in your core as his gloved hands roam over your hot and big belly.

You can't believe how fast your body lights up, how easily you respond to him; a kiss or a touch is all that requires to lure you. Din is so intoxicating that being around him is the only thing you need to be thrown over the edge. 

As the cold Beskar bites your back, the growing wetness between your legs distracts you from logical thinking. Din's presence throws off your hormones, which change quickly throughout your pregnancy; you want to be touched and kissed by him every minute; you can't keep your hands off him. 

And sometimes... 

Sometimes all you need is to be fucked day and night mercilessly, pinned down to the bed as Din pounds into you, to feel his big, thick length inside you.

Your cunt clenches with this thought, and you press your thighs together to ease the discomfort. You bite your lip to stop the moan from rising in your throat. 

"How's our babe?" Din asks, his eyes shining with desire and longing, find yours in the mirror.

After touching the bulging silhouette of his daughter, his gloved fingertips move to the place where you need him: your aching and strained back. You close your eyes as his thumbs work out the stiffness in your back; he knows it's not easy bearing his child.

You feel lightheaded as the warmth of his skin radiates from his gloves, slowly taking control of your body with desire. He makes you go feral; you need him desperately. You lean onto his stern and cold Beskar armor to cool down the fire burns within you.

“She’s growing each passing day, my king,” you reply, and your hands meet with his hands on your belly again.

The urge to feel his soft lips on yours takes over you; lay your head back to find Din’s lips. He gets the hint and gets close to you until you lock into his lips. The familiar sweet taste of him lingers in your mouth as your tongue finds his. He moans into your mouth as you devour him greedily. 

You fucking miss that. And he knows it. 

His broad hands meet with your aching breasts and cup them tightly. You gasp at this; his touch sends ruinous shocks to your drenched cunt. 

“Din-” 

“You’re so full, mesh’la,” he whispers into your shoulder as he squeezes your breasts harshly. He loves to tease you; every begging and syllable spilling from your pretty mouth turns him on more.

Your milk leaks into his gloved hands; you whimper as you can’t stand the emptiness in your hole. You can feel the wetness of your warm milk through your belly under your dress. “So full for our baby.” 

“Please, Din,” you beg as you can’t stand the tension winding impossibly tight between your hips and an unbearable ache as your clit throbs. 

He leans into you to hint at his wild and burning desire for you, and you feel his throbbing cock through his flight suit harden against the curve of your bottom. You whimper; it was just a simple touch, and you both burn with devouring desire for each other.

His voice becomes hollow and deeper as he asks the question you’ve been waiting for fucking days. 

“What do you want, princess?” 

“I want-” desire is so thick at the back of your throat that you can't swallow. You take a deep breath and start again.

"I want you to wreck me, my king," you finally utter, looking at his eyes in the mirror, watching them getting darker and darker with desire.

"I want you to fuck me right here, on the bed 'til I can't walk tomorrow," you beg, "Spill inside me and fuck it deeper until it is dripping my thighs,"

You close your eyes and try to swallow the massive knot in your throat as you hear your heart hammer. Your body yearns for every touch and caress as you beg the Maker to place the touch of the man you love exactly where you need it.

Din's breathing becomes sharper, and you flinch whenever the cool Beskar brushes your burning skin on his rising and falling chest.

And without warning, he grabs you on your waist, takes you into his lap and carries to the bed, and lays you down.

"I'll give you what you wish for, princess," his husky voice burns a hole in you as he places himself between your legs. 

"I want to see your swollen and beautiful belly, mesh'la," he says as he reaches for the hem of the dress. Quickly, he frees you from it and throws it away somewhere in the room. 

His darkened, lustful, and molten eyes devour you. 

Feral.

You're lying in front of your king in your soaking wet panties. You are all swollen, drenched, and wanting. 

For him. Only for him. 

Your breasts are soaked with your own milk, glistening in the moonlight coming through the bedroom window. Every fiber in your body is burning to feel him, and you are drenched with the need for him. 

You proudly exhibit the bulge of the tiny baby you carry in front of Din. 

You are his, and you belong to him.

Whenever Din sees you with your big belly, the animalistic impulse from his hindbrain takes control of him. Even though you're pregnant, even though you're carrying his baby, he wants to breed you again and again with greed and overwhelming lust, to bend you over the nearest table and pound into you until he cums with a loud moan rising from his mouth.

Through the flight suit, you can see the trail of his thick cock; and the thought of feeling it inside of you makes your go brain numb.

"I fucking love you," he whispers, hovering above you to kiss you on the lips. You groaned loudly into Din's mouth as it slid over yours, arching up to press against his chest. His tongue finds yours in your mouth and tastes you. You can feel his thick, throbbing length nudging your thighs as he kisses you. He kisses you so long and so deep that you gasp for air. 

"Din-" you cry out as you can't stand the burning throb in your core; you want him inside you.

He understands your following words and hushes you as his hot, slick tongue goes towards your neck at its next stop.

Your hands find their way to Din's messy curls, and you pull him into yourself to feel his sturdy body against you.

"Eager, my cyare," Din teases. "Are you that desperate to have me inside of you?" his hoarse voice echoes in your brain. 

You whimper as you are about to lose your mind from the burning desire; the only thing you need is a touch or a stroke, and then you'll be done. But no, your king won't give you that arousal you've been chasing for days. 

You know you have to ask for that.

"Fuck me, please, Ner Mand'alor," you cry. "I need you inside me," 

He ignores your whimpering as he explores your hot skin; he slowly moves from your neck to your breasts, his beard leaving marks on your sensitive skin.

"Din-" you whisper, hand going to his head as he dips down to tease the peak of one of your breasts with his hot and wet tongue. When he sucks your nipple, you leak again into his mouth this time. 

"Taste so sweet, mesh'la," he says, meaning your breast milk. His words drive you into the abyss; all he has to do is touch you down there.

You moan when he cups one breast, his lips gently pulling on a stiffened peak. His mouth moved between your sore breasts, pinching and sucking and nipping your damp flesh.

"My beautiful princess, " he mouths against your belly, kissing you. "You are so good ." You know his next intention and adjust yourself to give him what he wants. Your hands move behind your head to find a pillow. As you find it, you grab it and slide it under your ass to support your aching back due to your huge belly. 

Realizing this, Din moves and pushes himself up. He grabs you by the knees and pulls you to him; your legs touch his Beskar-covered thighs, and you shudder. 

"Now, show me, pretty girl, where you need me" Looking at your mind-blowing sight, he hungrily devours you with his eyes. 

His voice, husky and full of desire, shutters you in pieces. You keep your eyes on Din as your trembling hand passes your belly to your soaked cunt. You watch how his demeanor changes, the sly curl of his lips. You are so wet that you can feel it dripping onto the soft bed sheets. 

You rub your clit through your panties softly and your body reacts to your touch immediately; your orgasm starts to bloom in your tummy.

"That's it, mesh'la," Din says softly as he takes off his gloves. 

"Let me take care of you." 

His big warm hands meet with your thighs, caressing and squeezing your flesh with hunger. With a quick motion, he peels down your soaking panties, tosses them to the side, and presses open your thighs to see the mesmerizing sight of you, all swollen, glistening, and throbbing, spread open only for the king.

"Fucking stars, look at you, princess," he growls. "You're so wet for me,"

You crave his mouth on your throbbing clit, to suck and devour you. You can't help arching your lower body towards Din, showing him where you need him most.

You moan helplessly as your body is sweaty and wet, burns with lust, the uncontrollable throbbing of your cunt overwhelming you. "Din please," you breathe, "I want your mouth on my pussy, kiss and suck my clit"

"My greedy little princess," he says and goes for it .

And when he lowers down his head to your swollen core, you know what's coming. He pushes your legs to open you wide; he positions his mouth against your clit as his darkened brown eyes find yours. His hot tongue finds your throbbing clit, and strokes it mercilessly.

Your loud moan echoes in the room; hands find Din's head to press him down there as your climax gets closer with every lick he gives you.

"Oh fu-" you gasp, "Din!"

"That's it, baby girl," Din encourages you as he dips his head into your soaking pussy, and devours you. "You taste amazing," he whimpers into your cunt as he eats you out. 

Your legs tremble when he sucks onto your clit and wet folds; the harder he sucks, the more your thighs shake.

"Good girl," he whimpers, lust in his voice, "Give it to me, to your king." 

Din knows you as if it's his palm; to give you what you want, he picks up his pace; his wet and hot tongue devours you greedily now, and suddenly, you feel his long calloused fingers inside you, your walls wrapping them, slick and warm. 

"Oh, fuck…  Fuck!" you moan as you arch your hips uncontrollably. 

He knows what's coming and continues to tease you to help you reach there; he shoves his two fingers into your hole and pumps in and out, skimming his nose along your thigh.

Finally, your orgasm takes over you; it is so powerful that your body begins to shake as you gasp for air. The wave of pleasure that gathers in the pit of your stomach ripples through your body; the wave of power that you feel in even your hair lifts you above the clouds. White lights flash in your eyes, your moans fade from your ears, and you feel powerful two hands grab you by the thighs, pining you down as you surrender to the oncoming wave.

You don't know how many second or minutes take you to get down, but when you are finally down, you feel Din's weight over you again, murmuring sweet words to your ear, kissing you softly on your lips and chin.

"Welcome back, princess" his voice is soft, but you know he's not done with you yet as you feel his throbbing length against your skin. He'll rail in you in minutes, and you know that as if it's your name. 

And.. and even though you gave all you got in you to your first climax, you still feel it, gathering in your sore cunt and in your tummy with every kiss Din gives you.

How is this even possible? You shouldn't be able to cum again in this such a short period, but no, your body breaks every fucking rule or theory regarding a woman's body when it comes to your king, Din Djarin.

You kiss him back, your tongue slides into his mouth, and you explore him as you taste yourself in him. It makes you moan; the idea of his mouth full of you turns you on more; you want every part of him, to keep him inside you all the time, to nurture and care for him.

Fuck. 

With a quick motion, he pushes himself up again to take a look at you, the mess he has made; blushed cheeks, red and swollen lips, breasts glistening with your own milk and sweat, and his  favorite place in the universe, your all plushed, dripping pussy. 

“My pretty mesh’la,”  he mouths as his hands go to your back to help you up. “Get on your knees and hands before the mirror,” he breathes. “So, you can watch me while I am fucking you,”

And you do, without being told twice. He loves to fuck you this way; he can pound into you more while his hands hold your belly for more grip. 

He positions himself behind you, between your legs, as you watch him in the mirror. Your heart hammers in your mouth; you can’t wait to welcome his length in you, wrapping him. 

As soon as you hear the sound of the zipper opening, you push your hips against him. “Good girl,” he praises you as he firmly presses his length to your swollen entrance.

With a thrust, his cock splits you, sinking deep inside and forcing you open around his girth. 

“Oh, fu- fucking stars,” you moan out loud as his broad hands dig in your ass. You close your eyes as your orgasm starts to crawl into your tummy.

“You’re mine,” he breathes roughly, hips snapping forward until you wail. “Always”

“Ye- yes,” you stutter as his powerful thrusts make you go numb on his dick. “I am yours, my king.” You sob out, arousal blooming through your nerve system, making you scream his name.

He rocks his hips back and forth, burying himself, taking advantage of the slick mess he has made of you. 

“You’re so wet,” he speaks along with his moans. “Do you walk around like this for me all the time?” as you lose your grip due to madding pressure on your cunt, your head falls into your crossed arms before you.

“Fuck- don’t!” he grunts; his hoarse voice fills the room along with your moans as he holds his hair and pulls you to his Beskar-covered chest, and places other hands into your belly to keep you steady.

“Answer to your king, princess,” he hisses as his pounds get faster and deeper, delighting you with every fucking thrust. “And eyes on the mirror, look in the mirror while I’m fucking you.” 

“Fu- fuck, yes, Din,” the words spill from your mouth, “I am always wet for you.” He kisses your neck in return, and your eyes meet with your image in the mirror. 

You lean to your husband, and your head falls behind his shoulder. Your big belly and breasts glisten with sweat showing how well-bred you are. Lips and cheeks as red as an apple from the lust keep blooming in you. And your riduur, fucking you deep and well, with every thrust he gives, your body jolts with joy.

It’s because of him. 

Your riduur, your Mand’alor, your beloved, your other half. 

Every fiber and cell in your body burns for him; he is yours. He is your guardian, nurturer, and master. 

It has always been and will always be. 

You wheeze as he picks up the pace, holding you tightly against him. You need to be touched to reach your climax as it lingers painfully in your nerve system; you need to be ignited. 

“Touch me, Din,”  you moan in despair as your torturingly slow climax crawls in you. His hands slowly slide on your sweaty skin and reach the throbbing little nerve bundle. He rubs it carefully; he knows your pattern and how to make you cum. 

“Okay, mesh’la,” he speaks through his quickened breaths, “Cum for me now, for your king.” His words untie you; you feel weak on your knees as your orgasm rises in you.

“Don’t stars- don’t stop,” you hear yourself plead between broken gasps.

You’re nearly there - fire rising from your tummy and flooding through your whole body. And you know he’s almost there as well; you know it from his uncontrollable moans and gasps, incoherent whispers of your name.

Din dips his head into your neck to give you a slick kiss as you start to tip over the edge. Your orgasm starts deep inside of your burning cunt, from where his throbbing length is pressing up into your walls and sparks down to where his rough fingers rub against your clit. 

As his thrusts become deeper and harder, you know he’s so close. To help him to reach his release, you utter, “Breed me, Din”

A word and two syllabes; that's all it takes. 

''Ner mes'hla- Fucking- fuck!'' he moans against your ear as he finally cums; his pelvis jutts and locks against your ass tightly. 

You feel him filling you up, his warmth coating your walls as he his body trembles with overwhelming joy.

And yours follow him within seconds; you plead him not to stop as your climax rises in you uncontrollably. He keeps pounding you -even after his devastating climax- his with all his might as his fingers working on your swollen clit.

Finally, when it hits you cry out, stars emerges in your vision, blinds you with pure white scene. You ears ring with amniotic hush; moans of you and his wipe away from your ears. Your body jolts and trembles under the arms of Din. 

As your climax starts to fades away slowly, you giggle softly, happy that you have reached the orgasm and fulfillment you have been waiting for days.

--

When you both come down from your own climax, you try to catch your breath in each other's arms. This is one of your favorite times because Din is at your side, comforting you in his powerful arms and caressing your hair when you are at your most flimsy and vulnerable state. 

All you can hear in the room is you and Din breathing; the dim and warm chamber falls over you like a blanket. You put your head on Din's chest with the last bit of power you have left as the weariness of pleasure and sleep overtake you. Your eyelids start to close with the lovely weight of slumber as Din's powerful hands draw you closer to him, letting the warmth of his body permeate into your tender skin. 

His broad hands lingers on your belly, caresses you as he hums sweet words into your ear. As your eyes close with sleep, you've heard these last words:

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Sarad”

--

Okay, this was my first attempt at writing smut, I may have messed it up, but I still wanted to give it a shot. I also want to pay homage to Depeche Mode's "In Your Room" which inspired me to write this.

Don't forget to share your comments and ideas :)

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Mando'a Translations

Cyare: Beloved, loved

Ner Mand’alor: My King

Mesh'la: Beautiful

Riduur: Partner, spouse, husband, wife

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner Sarad: I love you, my flower

Ner mes'hla: My beautiful