𝐜𝐲𝐚𝐫𝐞'𝐬𝐞 - 𝘥𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘫𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯

When Stars Align

when stars align • gn!reader
You spend an affectionate morning awakening beside your Mandalorian, who you have just recently married.

—§—

It is often said that whatever the light touches may be deemed holy. When light chooses to cast its vibrance upon something, it will thrust its full effects headlong onto it, bathing it in a glow so angelic that it must be from the Maker. There is no other possible way to describe it.

This is what you witness as you awaken beside your newlywed husband—your riduur—and see his face glowing with the light that peers in through the woven walls of the Sorgan hut, and you think that he must be a being deemed holy by the Maker.

It has only been a few days since you first got to see his face in the aftermath of your marriage, and now, you cannot get enough of it. For the moment, you do not dare to wake him up, instead wishing to lay your head against the pillow and stare endlessly into the handsome features that are highlighted by the glimmers of light. Once you feel bold enough, you lift your fingers to trail the tips ever so gently over the smooth skin of his cheek, running over at least two faded scars. They stretch over the tanned flesh that still runs beneath the pads of your digits and create small works of art that prove his warrior past to be a tumultuous yet rewarding one. There is only a bit of roughness once you reach his jaw, feeling some of the facial hair that he keeps very short yet still present. When your fingers move across his face and towards his lips—slightly separated as the deep fit of slumber continues to overtake him—you are met with the same texture there, but longer. Soft breaths from his nose tickle your skin, and you struggle to bite back a soft chuckle as the flesh of your digits meets the warmth of his lips.

You nearly jump out of your skin when one of his hands reaches up quickly to grab your wrist, gentle yet sturdy as he holds your hand in place. Your gaze meets his as he opens his eyes slowly, his charcoal-like gaze glimmering more than the galaxy mid-flight. You watch in awe as the flecks of light move around his gaze like stars dancing in a night sky. When his gaze falls to your fingertips that still touch his lips thanks to his grip, you watch that light change into something more similar to embers sparking out of a fire, burning you with a similar flame deep in your belly when his gaze meets yours again.

"Jate vaar'tur, cyare," your Mandalorian rasps, his voice that is fresh from slumber still softer than what you used to hear through the modulator of his helmet. Good morning, beloved. His tone is hushed, minding the child who sleeps in a crib tucked away in the corner—and hoping to keep this precious moment to yourselves. His grip finally loosens on your wrist, letting your hand fall to the space between you as his free one brushes over the side of your face and through the hair behind your ear. He draws his face closer to yours, so close that you can hear the soft breaths he takes. You swear your breathing stills underneath his intense and affectionate gaze. "Dinui ni a mureyca." Give me a kiss.

There is no reason not to comply with his request as you were going to do it anyway, and there is no hesitation as you fully close the gap between the two of you. You do not rush, instead taking your time with it as your lips move in a rhythm so slow it nearly aches. Your hand now free of his grip brushes over his cheek and into his hair, losing itself in the softness of what it finds as your fingers sift through each and every strand they can. There is a shared sigh between the two of you that you each absorb by parting your lips, deepening your movements yet never quickening them. Somewhere in this moment, you forget where you begin and he ends, rather thinking of you both as a creation now soldered together as his fingertips dance along the bare skin of your neck and down your back. When he gets to your waist, he pulls your body flush against his own, completely enveloping you in his warmth until you feel the same fire that burns in your lungs also in his as they beg for air. You are reluctant to comply but know you cannot refuse any longer, and he does the same as you break apart simultaneously.