#mandospace thots

Don’t think about how he would take you any chance he got, stuffing you full of his cum.

Don’t think about how he would leave his cock inside of you, holding in his seed, for as long as he could, hoping that it would take.

Don’t think about how Din cried tears of happiness when you showed him the positive pregnancy test. How he dropped to his knees and ripped off his helmet so he could place kisses across your abdomen.

Don’t think about how Din’s hand splayed protectively against your lower back as he guided you through a crowded market. How he would buy you all the foods you were craving, no matter the price. How with a simple glance he could make anyone back off if they got too close to his growing family.

Don’t think about how he would stay up for hours at night talking to the child that was growing inside your belly. How he would pull your shirt up so he could kiss your round stomach in between each sweet sentiment.

Don’t think about how he would go down on you every single night during the period of your pregnancy that you were so needy that you were tearing at his clothes every chance you got. How he would lay beside you for hours with his cock stuffed inside you because you were begging for the feeling of being full. How his hands would splay over your stomach, mouth pressed to your bare shoulder, all the while softly rocking into you.

Don’t think about how he would help you through the delivery of your child. How he would be holding your hand, wincing beneath his helmet at your unbridled strength. How he would be pressing the cool beskar of his helmet against your fevered forehead, whispering praises to you over and over.

Don’t think about how he ripped his helmet off as soon as the midwife left the room, leaving the two of you alone with your baby girl. How the two of you cried with joy and pressed kisses to each other’s lips and to her small head.

Don’t think about how Din would cradle his baby girl to his bare chest when you finally got some much deserved rest, all the while whispering sweet words and laying a crown of kisses on her head.

Don’t think about how Din made love to you all night as soon as the medic gave you the ‘all clear’ to have sex again, saying “she’s gonna need a little brother, so we best get started.”

——————————————————————————

Boba didn’t say two words to you before he was peeling off his beskar and soaked underclothes on his way to the fresher. He was grumbling something under his breath, but you didn’t catch it all. Something about “rains more here than Kamino.” You weren’t sure exactly what that was or why he was in such a bad mood, but you knew that you would make your grumpy bounty hunter feel better if it was the last thing you did.

Days spent on the ship alone meant a lot of down time, and in that down time you had picked up cooking. You would search the holopad for hours, trying to find a recipe that would work with what meager food you had stashed on the ship. You had made the dish you were now preparing once before when Boba was out hunting. It was fairly simple and you had all the ingredients.

By the time Boba emerged from the fresher, trousers hanging low on his hips and a towel tossed around his muscly shoulders, the dish was piping hot and ready to be served. Boba had sat down at the small Holochess table tucked away in the corner that the two of you used as a table and you placed the meal in front of him. His face paled and it looked like he had seen a ghost.

“What’s wrong? Does it not look good?” you asked. The worry had begun to swirl in your stomach.

“How...” Boba picked up the spoon and he nudged the stew. “Where did you find this recipe?”

“The holopad, why?” you started to chew your bottom lip in worry. “Have you had it before? Did you not like it? I thought it was pretty good—”

“I’ve had it before, yes,” Boba cut you off as he scooped up a portion of the steaming stew. He brought it to his face, smelling it before he tasted it. Boba closed his eyes and let out a satisfied moan. “Kriff, it even tastes like his too.”

“Tastes like who’s?”

“My father’s. It’s a Mandalorian recipe, he would always make it for me when I was sick or sad. I haven’t had this since he died.”

“Oh, Boba, I’m sorry,” you felt so guilty for bringing up his past unintentionally when he was already having a rough day. “I can make you something else if you’d like—”

“If you take this bowl away I will shoot you, and I mean it.” Boba’s eyes met yours. “I don’t care if we’re together, I will literally shoot you. You will have to pry this bowl from my cold, dead hands before I let you take it away from me.”

You couldn’t help but blink at the bounty hunter in shock. “So... you like it?”

“Mesh’la,” Boba reached for your hand and tugged you onto his lap. He placed a gentle kiss on your lips, trying to convey all the love he held for you in that moment. “I love it. And I love you.”

“I love you too, Boba,” you could feel the blush settling on your cheeks.

“And thank you.”

“For what?”

“No, Din,” you grabbed his hands that were gripping your waist tightly. You felt the tendons in his hand tighten— a sure sign that he wanted to take over— but you stopped him before he could flip you over. “Tonight’s about you. Just relax for me, baby.”

“Just want you,” Din choked out, the pleasure and adrenaline pumping through his veins. If you didn’t move soon he was sure he’d ignite into a ball of flames. “Need you, Cyar’ika.”

“I know, baby,” you experimentally rolled your hips and Din’s cry of relief was music to your ears. He was hot and hard inside of you, stretching you just right. You wanted to go faster and chase after your release but tonight wasn’t about you, it was about Din.

Another roll of your hips and Din couldn’t help how his hands shot up to grab your hips and move you against him. The room was dark but he could see your bright smile as you once again grabbed his hands, this time bringing them up and over his head.

“Relax, Din,” you whispered, breath tickling against the shell of his ear. Your breath was hot and it sent shivers down his spine. His hands were now pinned above him in one of yours. He could easily break free, but that was the thing— he didn’t want to.

Your free hand trailed down the side of his face, his jaw, his neck, before settling at the base of his throat. Your fingers looked so small as they gently squeezed his thick neck. Din’s answering moan sent shivers down your spine and pooled low in your center. You squeezed tighter and resumed the languid roll of your hips against his.