Professor X: Wow It Really Has Been Peaceful Around Here Lately :’) Maybe My Plans Are Finally Work-

Beautiful Boy | The Mandalorian

✧ Now husband and wife, Din finally takes off the helmet and you see his face for the first time.

word count: 914 | rating: general audiences | content warnings: just fluff!

originally posted on march 14, 2022 on starlightdjarin

© catcastle on ao3 and @dearest-readers on tumblr

You haven’t been married for long. In fact, no more than a beat has passed since you exchanged the Mandalorian vows in the cockpit of the Crest. 

"Mhi solus tome.”  We are one when together.

“Mhi solus dar'tome.” We are one when parted.

“Mhi me'dinui an.” We will share all. 

“Mhi ba'juri verde." We will raise warriors. 

This is the start of your new life with your husband. Din Djarin. There was once a time when you never thought you’d know his birth name. Now, he is about to reveal his face to you. Maker, he’s nervous. And he has every right to be. Even though you’ve told him time and time again that it doesn’t matter what he looks like. After all, it wasn’t his face you fell in love with. 

You fell in love with his gruff exterior and stoic disposition. With his tender heart and broken soul. You softened his edges and reminded him it was okay to smile. You fell in love with the way he slowly let Grogu take up space in his heart. You fell in love with the way he covered you with his cape when you were cold in the cockpit. So, no. It doesn’t matter what he looks like. 

You rest your palms on Din’s armored thighs and he squeezes your hands gently. You can hear him trying to take a large, controlled breath. You know he’s anxious. You know he’s worried you won’t like what you see. 

“I love you, Din. What you look like will never change that.” 

“I know, cyar’ika,” Din sighs. “I love you. It’s just been—” 

“I know. You don’t have to take it off now. You never have to take it off if you don’t want to.” 

Din shakes his head. “No, I want to. I want to look at you through my own eyes. I’ve gotten to admire the slope of your nose and the crinkles around your eyes when you laugh at something not even remotely funny. The least I can do is show you my ugly mug.” 

Great, now you’re nervous. What if he really is unattractive? With any kind of love, there has to be some level of attraction. Oh, dear Maker, please just let him be decently handsome. It doesn’t matter. You tell yourself again. 

Din lets go of your hands and places them on either side of his helmet. “Ready?” He’s not sure if he’s asking you or himself. 

You nod. “So ready.” 

The helmet hisses and Din slowly lifts it up. With every inch of skin you see, your heart quivers ferociously. 

Scruff. Dark brown, maybe black facial hair. There’s a sprinkling of grey in it, too. 

Lips. Pink, plump, perfectly kissable. 

Nose. Aquiline and beautifully angled. 

Eyes. Hooded and crinkled at the edges. Brown, you note. Nervous and tired, but kind. 

Forehead. Creased with uncertainty. 

Hair. Dark, just like his beard. Tousled and loosely curled. You want to run your fingers through it. 

You haven’t said a single thing to your husband. You’ve just been staring, drinking him in. But your silence is worrying. Are you speechless because you don’t like the way he looks? Does he look old? Is it his patchy beard? 

No, it’s none of the above. You’re not silent because you don’t like what you see. You’re silent because you’ve found yourself deeper in love than you were before. You didn’t think that was possible. You didn’t think looks would matter that much. But looking at Din’s face, getting the full picture of who he is, it makes you love drunk. It makes you woozy. It makes you crave him. This is your man. Your beautiful boy.

You tentatively bring your hand up to Din’s face. “Can I?” 

Din nods. As soon as your hand touches his cheek, he closes his eyes and leans into you. It’s like a thousand little sparks lit up beneath his skin and spread down to his toes. It’s fiery and intense, but also warm and comforting. It’s been so long since someone else has touched him. He wants to feel you everywhere. Anywhere. He wants your bare bodies pressed together, legs intertwined and nose nuzzled in your neck. 

You’re tracing a line down his nose to memorize the curved line. Maker, you love him so much. “Din, take a deep breath,” you whisper. 

He tries to, but he’s overwhelmed by all of the things he wants to do with you. Such as kissing you. You’re his riduur and he hasn’t even kissed you yet! He cups your cheeks just as you’re holding his and he brings his lips to yours. You jolt in surprise but easily melt into him. It’s everything and nothing at all what you expected it to be. You didn’t expect the scruff to tickle the skin around your lips. You didn’t expect how soft his lips would be. Or how juvenile the kiss seems. Unpracticed and a bit messy, but full of love and affection. “Din,” you mumble against him. 

“Hmm?” He hums. He has no intentions of ever removing his lips from yours. 

“You’re perfect, Din,” the praise goes right into his mouth. It stirs something in his tummy. Desire. “So kriffing handsome.” 

Kissing Din, you realize, is everything you’ve been missing from your relationship. You have become one. You will still be one when he is away. You will share everything you have. And you absolutely cannot wait to start making and raising little warriors.

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