#madalorian

It'd be grueling, that much you could tell, as mando had trudged his way up the ramp to encase the guy in carbonite for transport. Only you could notice it, the way his shoulders were a little more slumped, helmet casted further down, like the weight of his days mixed with the armor was too much. Not to mention the slightest rounding at his crotch.

He needed relief and you.. Well, you didn't exactly mind the company.

He'd tugged you onto his lap not long after the ship took flight once more, made you focus on the universe as his gloved fingers trailed down your front and toyed you to insanity.

You'd been teased and tortured by the time he'd lifted you, gloved fingers damp as he'd brought you down the ladder and through the metal hall to the makeshift bedroom.

You hardly remember it all, the press of fabric growing damp, the slightest chill as he'd undressed you only to remain fully suited himself. Your mind had gone fuzzy, hazy in every way, thighs trembling as you'd pleaded. The sound echoing off of the walls, so broken and needy it was almost pathetic.

"Please.. More Mando.. Need more"

You stared into the blank darkness of his visor, hoping that you were meeting his eyes. You watched him consider, watched him adjust to press his bulge against you just that bit harder.

"Do you trust me?" his voice husks then, waiting, visor staring down at you. You can just about hear sound of his breath like this, almost taste the anticipation on his lips though the steel. It almost makes you shudder, forget how to speak, before your lips move of their own accord.

"A-Always." you nod. "Why?"

You dont get a response, not straight away at least. Instead you watch as a gloved hand tugs at the corner of his cape, a loud rip filling the crests bedroom as he tears a strip right along the bottom that leaves the edges fraying.

The visor tilts almost Inquisitivly, a silent question that makes you nod again before that same torn strip is brought up to your face. Mando ties it with ease, quick and yet comfortable, darkness shrouding your vision completly, even with your eyes open.

You listen to the shift of him with bated breath. You brows slightly furrowed beneath the cloth as you take in the soft thud of steel placed down, then the sheets rustling. His weight returning above you moments later, a change in the air.

And then, he speaks.

Dins voice sounds different without the layer of beskar and its modulator. Its softer, less robotic, deep in a way that seems to make your heart skip. Its different, but its him, your Mando. Raw, unfiltered, stripped bare in all the ways he'll let you have him.

Gently his hands find your skin, ungloved and slightly rough at the pads. They wrap around your wrists, pulling them from their tangle in his armour. You gasp quietly as you feel his breath brush over the skin, the soft press of what must be his lips against your knuckles.

"Hows this for more Cyar'ika?" he murmers, and if you really think about it, you can picture what he must look like. Plump lips, a curved jaw, deep black pupils swimming in perhaps brown or green pools.

This isn't mando who rests above you now, this is just Din. Your Din.

You hear the moves he makes tenfold now, each steel clink and cloth whisper, nerves set alight in anticipation.

His grip moves down from one of your wrists then, trailing lightly across your chest and belly, making a shiver roll over you without warning. Din chuckles, deep, raspy, head dipping to press his lips against the spot just below your navel. His breath is warm as it caresses you, slowly lowering until a squeal rips from your thoat unsuspecting.

In the focus you had of his whereabouts din rests between your thighs, mouth suddenly having latched over your tease-swollen clit. The arch of your back almost violent as you let out whines and whimpers. One of his hands holds your wrist to the sheets, the other working quick with his tongue to fuck into you with curls and crooks that make you cry. Your own tangling in locks that feel longer and wavier than you ever imaged.

Din eats you like a man starved of everything. Like food, water, even contact had been denied, no amount of your squirming or sobbing making him let up the ministrations that ruin you wholly. He even has the audacity to groan and moan into your cunt, like eating you is all that fuels him, and you hear it once he finally pulls back for air.