The soft sound of rain echoes throughout the house. All the lights are off as the soft glow of the morning light casts shadows onto the golden skin of your husband. His hands idly rub over your chest and shoulders. Every now and then heāll just cup your mound of fat, not in a vulgar way but rather in a pleasant way. He has told you time and time again how he loves the comforting weight and heat that your body offers him.
His back is leaned up against the headboard as you lay between his large thighs with your own back against his chest. He happily fondles your mounds while you read one of your favorite books. A steaming mug of tea rests on the bedside table, long forgotten as you become enveloped with the charactersā story. His head rests atop your own as he lazily skins over the various words you are so absorbed in.
The soft comforter lays across your lap, keeping all four of your bare legs nice and warm. Before you had kids your husband would often sleep as he was born, naked and very much not afraid. But after Grogu climbed in bed a few nights you both decided that in order to save his innocent eyes, the mandalorian should keep at least a pair of boxers on.
There have been countless moments where those boxers have saved more than one pair of little curious eyes. Mornings where the blanket is ripped off of your sleeping forms by various excited children. Nights where little bodies crawled in between the two of you in a search for safety from their dark dreams. But you can both agree that you would never trade those memories for the world.
You have to admit, in the mandaloriansā arms you truly feel like nothing can hurt you.
āCyare,ā He gives your chest a squeeze as he tries to gain your fous, āpay attention to me! Youāve read this book so many times before.ā
Without missing a beat you counter him, āAnd Iāve given you kisses about ten times more.ā
A small smile breaks onto your face at his loud boyish groan. He settles back into silence and places his head again on top of your own. In reward you reach back with one hand and cup his cheek. When he leans into your touch you slide your fingers under his chin and scratch at the scruff there.
He hums out his approval and you just know his eyes are closed. Moments like these really make you ponder if you married a man or an oversized dog. A breath of air puffs from your nose as you imagine him with a fiercely wagging tail and two fluffy ears.
When you bring your hand back down to rest on your stomach he whines and rubs his head against your own, again, much like a dog.
Mandoās Guide through the Galaxy P2 - (The Mandalorian x Reader)
Word Count: 1,193
Warnings: None
Summary: A thrill-seeking reader begins the journey of a lifetime along side the notorious bounty hunter, Din Djarin, across the milky way. This chapter begins to tell the story on how the reader and The Mandalorian first meet.
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1.
__________________________________________________Many Years Prior...
āAny luck yet?ā Ā
The on and off switch? No. Thick cable? No. Power plug? Most definitely not. Maybe a little towards the left.. Bingo!
āHow about now?ā
āNah, nothing yet! Keep tryin!ā
Sweat beads began to collide with one another amidst your forehead. It has been almost 2 hours since you and your associate had begun attempting to fix the air conditioning. The bar was busier than ever, towns folk gather at the nearest watering hole whenever the annual drought arrives. You lived in a semi-advanced meta galaxy, yet the development of a general persons needs failed to currently reach your hometown. Water wells lose their reservoir. Wild animals endeavour to find any scrap of moisture. So, everyone made the most of what they could. And the sentients? They flock here.
These weeks pushed you to your limits. Staying well past usual closing hours to cater for the customers. The bar even made an exception to serve younglings to quench their thirst. Of course, nothing non-alcoholic. But to top it off, you had to use your brief experience with soldering wires to fix the current shamble of a cooler in the bar.
āGotcha!ā
At long last you caught sight of the mutilated wire. Gripping it, a drip of metal landed on the tip of the exposed wire, then securing it onto the other bare cable led to the most glorious sound imaginable in that for moment.
A muffled buzzing could be heard before the clients let out an uproar.
āThata girl!ā
Sean, a fellow bartender slash father-figure, was the one helping you solve the ventilation issue. The two of you connected on a more family like matter. He owned the bar for decades and asked if you wanted to have a permanent job here after how well you got along with the customers. You could remember each name and their usual after one glance. You were an asset, as well as great company for him. He was nearing his 70ās yet his charm was still as strong as ever. And never short of a quick comeback.
After your father passed, he made his best effort to teach you the ways of life, be it from how to ride your first Blurrg to a manās weak spot during a lethal spar. This led to a strengthened connection throughout the years that you worked alongside him.
Climbing down from the counter, you grabbed a tea towel and tucked it lackadaisically into the rim of your jeans. Now it was time for you to get back to the main task at hand, bartending.
After about a half an hour, majority of the customers were now served and had dispersed. The corner of the bar had its routine orange hue blending into its mahogany body. It was almost sundown.
āY/N! Can ya close up in a few? Make sure none of those lil sh*ts get back in. I don't want no more of āem stealin our stock.ā
Releasing a hushed laugh, you hummed in agreement. It didn't take much to irritate the endearing old man, but one thing that got under his nails even just by mention was Jawas. Such small creatures, still they caused so much mischief.
āOi Y/N, whaddya say we g-go out back and turn the heat b-back up, love?ā
And then there was *these* creatures. As much as you loved bartending and hearing all of the enthralling fables, you had to deal with this side of the job. Horny, drunk assholes who never could shut their mouth no matter how long your patience could run. They were part of the reason why Sean taught you the basics of self-defence.
āNot tonight. Everyoneās gone home, you should too.ā
Slipping the towel back out from your waist band, you tried to distract yourself by wiping down the worktop that separated you and the jackass.
āCāmon babe! I know ya want a piece of t-this... ā
Yep, without fail. At least one of these types of customers forced you to endure through the harassment. Until they poke too far.
The vintage doors of the store eased open with a squeak; another weathering effect due to the grand age of the bar. You kept focus on a specific stain engraved into the wood. You knew it couldn't be removed through a damp cloth, but if it meant avoiding giving the jerk opposite you any reaction then it was about to be one of the most captivating spots of the night.
āWeāre closed!ā
You called out. It must have been a new visitor, not familiar with the time zones.
āYer gonna ignore me now huh? What happened to that smile oāv yers! Isn't you Mando's supposed tah serve out for us? Hu-ā
A slap vibrated from the countertop to the area of the idiot with the remarks. A reflective shape grasped the back of the man's neck, pinning him to the surface. You stumbled back at the sudden sound of skin on hardwood contact.
āGet the hell off of me!ā
Resisting, he continued to squirm until the strangers' grip. Irritated grunts and slurs spilled from the man's lips. Finally, he was released and rose his head up only for it to get slammed back down on the counter, knocking him out cold.
āI couldāve handled him myself. He isnāt my first.ā
You squint your eyes to get a better look at the figure beneath the dim light. It was difficult considering it must have now been 1 or 2 am. No natural light in sight with most of the inside light sources turned off due to closing time.
He threw one thigh over a stool adjacent to the unconscious customer and eased into the crater. A sight where one man looks so well built and brawny sitting upon a seat causing it to look so incredibly petite would have made you laugh if it wasn't for when you saw his armour.
A Mandalorian.
You never thought there would be another walking amongst this earth let alone sitting directly in front of you. His helmet gleamed under the red rays that exerted through the shutters. It was evident the amount of passion and craftsmanship went into the Mandoās armour. They were proud creatures, this was clear in how they sacrificed their identity for their creed and how serious they took the lifestyle, yet you couldn't help but swoon over something as simple as their gear. Every small, immaculate detail.
āOn the house.ā
A crystal whiskey glass was passed across the bar towards the Mandalorian, the blue froth from the mineral settling down the side of the rims. But the Mando just... stared. A glance towards the glass and then a glance towards you.
Nodding to yourself, you went back to clearing away the remaining glasses. He wasnāt much of a talker, nor drinker. But you couldnāt exactly throw out someone who has the courtesy to defend you, even if it was unnecessary. So, you let him relax, offered him some bar snacks to accompany his drink and went on with your work. After all, he was a Mandalorian too, and who wouldnāt want the company of one of those?
Ā okay, so iām gonna be real with you all: i havenāt written anything like this in years. but lately he-who-must-not-be-named (p*dro p*scal) has got me feeling some type of way, so ope here i go. extra special shoutout to @rzrcrstĀ for inspiring me to write this/introducing me to ezra in the first place. sorry if this is shit. my sleep schedule is all sorts of messed up, iām on what feels like my millionth white claw, and this quarantine has turned my brain into mashed potatoes. YOLO my dudes!Ā
word count: 780
warnings: fluff with a tiny whisper of smut at the end
Thereās two things you notice upon waking.
One, itās bright. Almost too bright. Without even opening your eyes you can tell that the early morning sun is shining directly through the curtains of your bedroom window and on to your face. So in an effort to slip back into blissful unconsciousness, you shift your head away from the light and bury your face into your pillow.Ā
The second thing you notice, and this one is infinitely harder to ignore, is a warm hand gently brushing along your bare back. Its fingertips dancing softly over the planes of your shoulders before dipping down along your spine, trailing lower and lower until they hit the blanket that covers your equally naked lower half. Thatās where they stop before they begin their dance upwards again, this time the movements being repeated in reverse.
Ezra is an early riser, he always has been for as long as youāve known him. But even so, youāre a little surprised that heās already awake considering how late the two of you had stayed up the night before. The memory of which reminds you of the ache between your thighs. Not that you mind it.
āGood morning, birdie. How did you sleep?ā
His voice is quiet and deeper like it is every morning when he first wakes up. His honeyed accent that much stronger.Ā
āFine,ā you yawn in response, head still partially buried in your pillow.Ā āAnd you?ā
āUndisturbed and peaceful, as I am fortunate enough to be every night when Iām beside you.ā
His response makes you smile and you feel his hand continue its lazy movements across your back, tracing what you assume are merely random patterns on your skin. Suddenly though you feel the firmer press of just his index finger dragging along you, almost as if heās spelling something out.
You lift your head up so he can hear you clearly. āAre you writing something on my back Ezra?ā
āPerhaps,ā his murmur almost as soft as his touch is. āWhat do you think?ā
āI think itās too early for games,ā you groan dramatically as your head drops back down.
An amused hum escapes his throat. āI think I could convince you otherwise.ā
And with that he begins using his finger to spell out words along your soft skin. He whispers for you to tell him what heās saying and you give in almost immediately. With each phrase you guess correctly he dips his head down to place a soft kiss on each spot heās marked with his invisible words. Eventually he begins to draw images as well, and you find yourself sighing out your answers as he continues his motions without a care in the world. Heart. kiss. Moon. kiss. Gems. kiss. Poem. kiss. Love. kiss. Ship. kiss. Flower. kiss. Itās only when you say the word ācatā that youāre greeted with a gentle bite instead of his lips.
āOw! Ezra!ā you cry out, though you both know he hasnāt come close to actually hurting you. Even on the occasions when he does, itās not unwelcome and youāre usually the one begging for it.Ā āWhy did you bite me?ā
āYour guess was incorrect, and thus undeserving of a reward Iām afraid. If you would like to continue we may, but I assure you it will only become more difficult as the game progresses.ā
With a huff you roll over until youāre on your back and facing directly up at him, finally seeing him for the first time this morning. His hair is sticking up every which way, the unruly blonde patch you love the most in particular. Facial hair patchy across his jawline, but stronger across the top of his plush lips. The very same ones that were just worshiping every inch of you they could reach moments earlier. His skin beautifully tanned and littered with scars you yourself have traced many a time. The smile he wears is gentle, serene even. Though his warm brown eyes are darker than normal- devious, and almost taunting. Itās a look youāve grown accustomed to, one you hope to see every day for the rest of your life.Ā
āI can handle it,ā you say in a tone daring him to do his worst.Ā
He licks his lips and slowly moves his arm between your bodies. His hand dragging over the expanse of your chest, working its way down to your navel, before it slips beneath the sheets covering your waist.
You let out a little gasp and spread your legs for him as you feel the tip of his finger brush against your clit.
āVery well little bird,ā a second finger joins the first.Ā āWhatās your guess?ā
