(Din Djarin x F!Reader)
Sunlight pours through the windows of the bed chambers. There's a slight shuffle of twisting covers. An arm curls around the underside of your breasts before snaking down against your belly. You mumble softly, turning over to meet a soft graze of a kiss. His stubble is rough against your face. His lips meet yours.
"Good morning." He rasps softly. You let out a soft moan. "I was having such a wonderful dream." You say with a contented sigh. He positions himself between your legs, shifting the covers around. "What was it, my love?" The thin gown is clinging to your skin in a becoming way. Being pregnant has perks that Din never thought he'd enjoy.
He starts at your throat, kissing softly before moving to your collarbone. Your fingers slide into his messy curls and you sigh again. "We had lots of little warriors. And you were such a wonderful father, my King." He skims the tops of your breasts, fingers twisting around the thin shoulder straps to pull them down. You're a work of art.
Din Djarin. The King of Mandalore. A husband...and a soon to be father. He had met you as a slave to a wealthy warlord on Tatooine. You were beautiful back then. Adorned in almost nothing but jewels and gold. Half naked and in shackles most of the time. While the Mandalorian never needed extra cargo, you proved to handle well on your own. Din had never made love on a bed of silk until that night. The air had been so tense from slaughter that you two attacked each other. That was years prior to this.
"You're the one who deserves the praise, cyar'ika." He mumbled softly. His hand formed to the pillowy flesh of your left breast. Another sigh. His other hand is against your belly. "You'll give me the best sons the kingdom will ever see." His hand snakes between your legs, pushing aside the material. Your body is wrought with desire as his fingers make contact with that sticky and supple wetness.
The air around the two of you is coated in bliss. It feels so good to share it. He's heavy between your legs as he removes his hand. He sinks down with a deep groan. His rhythm is slow like his pace. Your lips meet. You're getting lost in each other quicker than anything.
Then, the door opens. Din doesn't break focus. His advisor stumbles in with news, caught off guard. "Your Highness-" he quickly shields his face. "I bring news from those outside the castle walls..." he says. Din shifts some, changing the position to you straddling his hips. "I'll deal with it later." Din grunts. The roll of his hips matches yours. His hands are resting on your hips, helping you bounce up and down. "That's it, just like that. Don't stop..."
His advisor clears his throat uncomfortably and continues to speak. "They were most insistent on meeting this morning...at first light." "I'm sure if I'm a few moments late, it won't matter." He groans. Your moaning and whining is getting louder. The slap of skin against skin echoes through the chamber. "Leave us." Din orders. "But, sir-" "I said leave us, unless of course you prefer to watch." You look over your shoulder, continuing to move your hips. The advisor sees himself out.
His head bends back against the pillow. Perspiration lightly creasing his forehead. "I wanna have you like this always, cyar'ika. Always."
• • •
"You should just stay here." You say. Din is up, getting himself dressed. "We can have sex and drink wine all day...those dune dwellers can wait." You say. He walks over, attaching the rest of the beskar to his newly fashioned suit. "As much as I like that idea, I have to tend to this matter. Get dressed and meet me later." He offers a kiss on the lips. He places the helmet on before walking towards the chamber doors.
The advisor is nervously pacing the halls. "Your Highness...they were just about to leave." He says as Din comes from the room. "Somehow I doubt that." He says through the modulator of the helmet. He walks around the corner to find the people standing in the courtyard. He greets them. "Apologies for my lateness...my wife is pregnant and things can get a little impromptu." The man smiles brightly. "I have four of my own, I know how it is." He says. The two of them walk further into the courtyard, carrying out their discussion.
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The Pedro Pascal Files
Fanfiction• "F" stands for FLUFFY [don't forget that] • Feel free to put in requests, I don't bite • I'll do every single character that's played by Pedro • I might sprinkle some smut on it, but it won't be solid. Drop me a line, babies. And don't forget to...
