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use your words

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Nevarro was definitely at the bottom of your favorite planet list, which is unfortunate really, since you and Mando frequent this planet the most. It’s just something about it that makes you feel tired. Maybe it’s the fact that everything seems to be covered in coal dust, or that the lava makes it hard to breathe. Or just the simple fact that there is literal lava on the planet, it just feels like one big igneous rock.

And today is no different, maneuvering the Crest to settle on the uneven surface of Nevarro and telling yourself the visit will be short, for Din isn’t one to indulge in the pleasantries that Karga so often enjoys plaguing him with. All you have to do is stay in the ship and entertain the kid for a bit, which is literally what he hired you for.

Speaking of the kid, your little green companion is sitting in the passenger seat just behind you, fidgeting with his little silver ball that he loves so much and making little purring noises. You silently thank the Maker for that ball, because it seems to be the only thing that keeps the child busy. Which is saying a lot because the kid can be a handful at times, but his cuteness just cancels it out.

You push a few buttons and handle the post flight check before rising out of the pilot’s chair and grabbing the kid. Gently prying the silver ball out of his little fingers, he makes a small frustrated noise. Tickling his tummy, you softly chuckle “aw come on kiddo, you know the drill, the ball doesn’t leave the cockpit, you’ll lose it.” Seeming to understand the gist of that you said, he lets go of the ball and his big ears twitch. Carefully settling him against your left hip, you scan the cockpit to make sure that everything is turned off. Once you’re satisfied, you turn on your heel and start to descend down the ladder into the hull of the ship where Mando is waiting for you patiently. “Got any errands to run?” You ask him just as your foot hits the steel floor of the hull. “No”
“So it shouldn’t take long”
“Probably not”
“Ok then I’ll be here waiting for you to get back.”

He walks right up to you, and looks down at the baby on your hip. “No you won’t.”
What does he mean? Is there some sort of danger or secret you don’t know about? A change of plans? Before you get the chance to form words on your tongue, he simply lifts the child out of your arms and starts in the direction of the floating crib.

“You’re coming with me this time, you need to get out of the ship for once, stretch your legs.” You know that it’s not very proper in front of the child but you just can’t bite it back and you mutter under your breath, “I prefer spreading my legs for you but I guess this will do.” Din all but drops the kid at the sound of your crude comment. He hurriedly tucks the child into his crib, gives him a small pat on the head, and quickly yet carefully closes it shut.

“What did you just say?” you hear his familiar filtered voice through the beskar. Looking at him with as much innocence as you can muster you answer sweetly, “N-nothing, I didn’t say anything.” He’s walking slowly towards you until he’s close enough for you to see your garbled reflection in his shiny beskar. He doesn’t stop until you’re forced to take a step back, then another, and another, until your back hits the cool metal wall. Caged between him and the wall, you do your best to act like you don’t know what’s going on. Your heart rate picks up until you can feel the blood in your veins pulse against your skin and start to develop a wanton throb between your legs because of his proximity. Maker, why does he have such a big impact on you though he hasn’t even touched you yet.

He tenderly grips your chin with his fingers and if you could see his eyes they’d probably be staring into yours. “Don’t make me ask again sweet girl, tell me what you said.”

You aren’t ready to give up just yet, so with a seductive smile, you murmur, looking straight at him, “I think you already know what I said.”
His grip on your chin tightens and his modulated voice comes through the beskar, “I think I want to hear you say it.”
You admit defeat and shamelessly confess to him, “I said I’d rather spread my legs for you. Instead of stretching them,” but you’re not even close to being done with him, so you trace your fingertip down the fabric that covers his throat and ask him “do you think that counts as exercise? Hmmm?”

He decides to play your little game but on his own terms. His fingers leave your chin, slip down your throat and he keeps his gloved hand there. You can feel the leather rub against your skin like a ghost as he asks, “does what count as exercise? Use your words, be specific” you roll your eyes but indulge him. You’re not gonna give up, not now when you have his attention so you tell him. With absolutely no filter, “riding your hard cock in the pilot’s seat. Or letting you eat my dripping pussy on the floor of your own fucking ship.”

The throb between your legs quickens to a pulse and your breathing becomes just the slightest bit more erratic. He leans forward just a bit but it’s enough for you to know that he likes what he’s hearing.

Your hand slides down his chest plate dips lower and lower until you're shamelessly palming his hardening cock through the dark fabric of his trousers. And what turns you on the fact that he’s letting you. He’s letting you stroke his cock through his pants while he knows that Karga is waiting for him in the cantina. Growing suddenly bold, you seductively whisper into his armoured shoulder. “Does this turn you on? Huh? Letting me touch your big, hard cock while Karga is waiting for us. Hmmm?” He braces himself by leaning his arm on the wall behind you and you can hear his breathing pick up. “Fuck, I-I know what your doing, it’s not gonna work.” You’re getting bolder and not to mention wetter by the moment and against your better judgement, you decide to test the limits of his self control. Your hand squeezes his hardening shaft through his pants while the other hand inconspicuously slips into his waistband.

He goes absolutely rigid as your warm fingers close around his half hard cock. Your hand pulls back the skin of his shaft and you run your thumb over his throbbing head. His hips involuntarily jerk up into your hand and you can’t contain your smirk as you slowly start to pump him, feeling the texture of his pulsating cock. Maker, you love his cock. He always gets so hard for you, when he fucks your mouth, your pussy, between your tits. Maker he’s so fucking hot. He’s panting as he thrusts into your dry fist a few times before he regains control of himself. “F-fuck, st-stop that.” yet he makes no move away from you. In fact he sags against you furthermore.

You decide to be a little shit and innocently repeat the words he said earlier “stop what Din? Use your words.” you hear a slightly irritated huff behind the beskar and he starts to form a sentence “get your hand out of my- FUCK” he yelps in the middle of his statement when you reach down further into his pants and massage his balls. Knowing that he could totally yank your hands out of his waistband in a flash at any given moment and stop your ministrations spurs you on, because he doesn’t. You increase your pace a bit and pump him faster while whispering filthy things to him.

“Come on Mando, don’t you wanna fuck me?”
“Shut up”
“Don’t you wanna pound me into the dirty fucking floor and make me cum?” With the hand that isn’t currently jerking him off, you pull down the fabric that covers his throat and make yourself busy by sucking a mark on the side of his neck. His chest is heaving up and down and you can hear his lusty pants through the modulator in his helmet. His cock grows harder and harder in your hand as you continue to play it. You can now physically feel the wetness trickling out of you and all you want is to have him inside of you. You unlatch yourself from his neck and beg, “P-please let me take your cock out. Please, just f-for a little bit, just fuck me.” Thinking of his solid, throbbing cock in your hand sends sparks of pure white hot need to your core.

You attempt to press your thighs together in order to alleviate some of the tension. Taking advantage of your moment of weakness, he regains some of his composure and wedges his knee between your legs before you get the chance, leaving you desperately frictionless.

With a strained voice, he practically growls, “last chance to shut the fuck up before I make you fucking regret it.” The sound of his modulated baritone voice does nothing but spur you on as you whisper dirty things to him and ramble against his helmet, “Oh p-please Mando, I’ll do anything, I’ll let you d-do anything, just- just let me fuck myself on your thick cock, you know how tight I am for you. I fucking love it, I love your cock. Let me cum all over your big strong c-” you are rudely interrupted when he slaps his hand over your mouth and snatches your hand out of his trousers.

Practically tearing off one of his gloves, he shoves his hand down your waistband and into your underwear where his hand gets fucking drenched. You can tell he’s surprised from the way his hand ghosts over your slick folds “Maker you’re fucking soaked. Is this all for me? Does your pussy get all worked up over me? Huh, sweet girl?” he asks through the beskar.
“Nghh yes. It’s all for you, every si-single drop.” You breathlessly reply, “please dear Maker, t-touch me.” For one blissful moment, he does. A moan is ripped from your throat while he slips one deliciously thick finger inside your silky heat and you all but convulse, craving his heavenly touch. He slowly moves in and out of you but quickly quicks up the pace, due to how mouthwateringly slippery you are. He curls his finger up and you clench your walls down hard on it. He knows just how to treat you, just what you like and you love it. You know he can make you cum in a matter of two minutes if he wants to, but he sure is taking his sweet time. You feel your orgasm in the horizon and you let yourself get lost in his euphoria. Without warning, he slips his finger out of you and twirls it around your clit twice before taking it out of your pants and sheaths it back into his glove, still glistening with your arousal.

Your pussy clenches down on nothing by the time you realize that he stopped.

“W-what are you doing? I need you. Come back”
“I told you if you didn’t shut up with your fucking dirty talking there’d be consequences.”
“B-but you can’t just l-leave me like this”
You can hear him scoff under his helmet, “I sure can my sweet girl. Do you really think that I’d let you run your pretty little mouth and let you get away with it. Plus I’m not leaving you, I told you you’re coming with me,” you literally can’t process this. Does he seriously expect you to act normal around Karga when you have a fucking lake of arousal for him in between your legs while they talk business.

“Your fucking kidding right?”
“No, I’m not. Get your shit together and let’s go, we’ve kept him waiting long enough.” and with that he presses a button on his gauntlet that commands the child's crib to follow him, opens the door and steps out of the ship. You literally can’t believe this is happening, but you're too proud to admit his enormous impact on you so you compose yourself, rake a hand through your hair, take a deep breath and walk out to him on slightly shaky legs.

Once he notices your appearance behind him, he starts forward towards the settlement in front of him with the baby’s crib in tow. He doesn’t say a word the whole way to Nevarro city and it adds fuel to your ongoing fire of irritability. You know you’re being irrational, he doesn’t have a lot to say when it comes to small talk and you’ve been with him long enough to know that.

The logical voice in your head is telling you, you had it coming idiot. He told you to stop and you should have laid off but NO, you just had to put your pride first. Now here you are, miserably following the Mandalorian into Nevarro city with your arousal fresh and glistening between your thighs and nobody knows it except for him. Fuck, even the thought of it makes sends a jolt of heat to your core. You’re so busy thinking about it that you don’t even notice he’s stopped in front of the door of the cantina, and just about walk right into him. He turns his head to look at you and his familiar modulated voice comes through the beskar.

“Don’t say much ok. If you get Karga talking he won’t shut up and I don’t wanna spend 2 hours here.”
“Aye, aye.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know, I know I’ll shut up this time.”
How hard could it be right? All you have to do is sit still and look pretty for a few minutes, who knows, maybe you’ll even learn something. Without a word, he heads into the cantina with the child’s levitating cirb at his heels and you have no choice but to follow him inside.


In the end it turns out he was right, Karga is… talkative. And ridiculously bold. The second you sit down beside Mando in the booth of the cantina, he orders three shots of spotchka and places one in front of you and the second infront of Din. It puzzles you really, doesn’t he know that Mando doesn’t eat or drink in public? Mando has been with the guild for years, is this guy really that thick headed?

After toasting his drink to you and downing it in one gulp, he looks between you and the blue shot in front of you expectantly. From the corner of your eye, you glance and Mando, to subtly ask his permission. Does this count as spurring Karga on? When he does absolutely nothing to indicate anything, you decide to trust your own judgement. Turning your gaze back to the shot in front of you, then to the man sitting across from you, you bring the sharp smelling liquid to your lips and with a tiny beat of hesitation, drink half the shot. You try your hardest not to cough as the spotchka burns a trail of what feels like fire down your throat. You can feel the warmth of it glide its way down your body and suppress a small shudder.

Karga chuckles, “you’ve got yourself a wild one there Mando, she must be lots of fun.”
“Very,” Mando dismisses, “What do you have for me?” Karga huffs with an amused tone and shakes his head. He turns to you, “it’s always down to business with this guy” and starts to discuss recent bounties with Mando.

Din taught you to be observant, so you try to pay as much attention to the conversation as you can, but your head is a little fuzzy from the half shot of spotchka.

You let your eyes wander around the cantina taking in the sight of all the different bounty hunters chatting in the cantina. Most of them are human, but from time to time you spot a few different species. A twi’lek woman with blue skin in a brown leather bra and gray trousers, talking to someone in hushed tones in the corner of the bar. A foreign species of alien ordering a drink at the bar. The one thing you notice is that none of them is as intimidating as your shiny companion.

Compared to him, they all look like regular civilians and that’s why you’ve been getting so many quizzical looks thrown your way whenever you’re out with him. He’s so intimidating to everyone and you can’t blame them. If you don’t know him personally he literally looks like a really expensive droid that chases people down for money. Which is what makes it all the better. You're the only one who knows the noises he makes when he’s desperate, or what his laugh sounds like.

You’re the only one who knows how strong and real he feels under his armor, how soft his mouth is when it dances with yours in the complete darkness of his ship. How curly his hair is when you run your hands through it. The thought of it fills you with a huge, warm feeling of adoration for him and it heats your body way better than the alcohol.

Your sweet thoughts suddenly stop when you feel him place his gloved hand on your knee and you almost feel ashamed at the hot spark of lust that kindles in your core from his touch. It demonstrates how big his effect is on you. His hand drags it’s way up your thigh and comes to a stop where your leg meets your waist. He keeps his hand there for a bit and you freeze. Hoping that he doesn’t go down any further but secretly wanting him to.

He’s still talking with Karga and there isn’t a single tell that he’s actually gliding his hand in between your thigh, grabbing a handful and squeezing. You try your best to remain as inconspicuous as possible and take his teasing with as much control as possible but your resolve breaks as soon as he takes his glove off with his other hand, skates his touch over your lower belly, and dips his hand into the waistband of your pants. You’d only notice if you were watching closely, but your abs tighten and you lurch forward the slightest bit at his touch. Your center is still deliciously slick from your previous interaction with him.

Is he serious right now? He’s gonna play with your wet pussy in the middle of this fucking cantina, right in front of Karga while talking about the next people he’s gonna track down and kill. Just the thought of it makes more arousal gush out of you.

His fingers ghost against your slit, just barely touching your glistening folds before he brings one of them up to abruptly twirl around your clit. Your breathing quickens as you try to keep your body under control and struggle not to convulse when he slips a digit inside you.

This time, your movement is too rash and Karga notices. His gaze darts to you for a second before turning back to Mando but you can tell that he’s a little confused.

Mando pumps his thick middle finger in and out of your heat with an achingly slow pace, which makes it torture. You want to tell him to go faster, deeper but you sit quiet and take it, letting him glide his finger in and out of your center, while he presses on with his business to Karga, unfazed.

You’re doing pretty well handling his ministrations but it doesn’t change the fact that if he doesn’t stop soon, you’ll cum all over his hand. You feel an orgasm coming closer from a distance but you do your best to fight back against the pleasure he’s giving you. You won’t be able to sit still while you cum next to him right on his fingers while he’s still conversing with Karga. What gets you off the most is that he’s doing it so casually. He’s acting as if he isn’t making your world literally fall apart under the table with his fingers.

You think that you’ve got it under control until he hooks his foot around your ankle and spreads your legs a little wider. Then he adds a second digit inside of you and curls his fingers up mercilessly fast, making a “come here” motion with them.

You can’t help it and choke out a small gasp as you try to stop your chest from heaving by breathing through your stomach.

Karga doesn’t let it slip this time and asks you, “are you ok? You look a bit...uh flustered” Your clouded brain is focused on nothing but Mando’s fingers so it takes you a minute to register that you’ve been asked a question.

You offer him a polite smile and reply with a small tremor in your voice. “Y-yeah I’m all good. Just a little hot I guess, it’s kinda w-warm in here don’t you think?” Mando’s fingers are now thrusting into you at a rapid pace and it takes all your will power to just still there with gritted teeth and let him fuck you.

“Why don’t you go outside and get some air while Mando and I finish up? You look a little uncomfortable.” The offer goes in one of your ears and out the other, Din’s fingers are too fast, to fucking good. You can’t leave now, you wanna cum all over his hand and make him feel it, you want to make him get hard whenever he comes back to this cantina to get jobs from Karga, whenever he sits in this booth he’ll think of you becoming undone all over his hand.

The thought of it shoves you closer to the rapidly approaching edge of your orgasm. “No, I-I can wait, you guys can take your time. It’s nice to be out of the ship for a-” you’re cut off for a second when Din does the unthinkable and adds a third fucking finger to your cunt and starts tracing feather light circles to your sensitive bud, contrary to the way he’s rapidly jerking his fingers inside of you. “WHile.” you shakily finish your sentence and just about cum on the fucking spot because the pleasure is too damn good. His fingers pump in and out of your drenched cunt while his thumb traces intricate patterns around your erected clit. You’re literally right on top of your orgasm when he stops.

He fucking stops.

Your body sags just a bit and it takes all your willpower to stay as still as possible and you just manage to bite back a broken groan when his fingers stop moving inside you. Then, for an agonizing moment he pulls his fingers all the way out of you, before slamming back into you at a slightly raised angle, ramming straight into your g-spot. You just can’t help it as your body lurches forward and you squeeze the edge of your seat until your knuckles turn white.

“Alright well sit tight then because we’re almost done” Karga says with a raised eyebrow, still confused about your odd behavior, before taking six pucks out of the bag beside him and setting them on the table, “take your pick Mando.” with his fingers still hammering straight against you g-spot, he casually looks over at the pucks and flips them over with the hand that isn’t currently fucking you silly under the table. He’s got you riled up so high and wound so tight that all it takes it for his thumb to press into your clit and one more hard thrust right up against your g-spot and your cumming all over his fingers.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head for a moment and your mouth parts. A wave of white hot ecstasy rolls through your body and your head swims as he fucks you through it. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from screaming out his name for the whole fucking cantina to hear. The only sound that escapes you is a tiny whimper that only he can hear as his fingers slow their thrusts against your fluttering walls and finally slip out of you. You find yourself craving his thick fingers again as you clench down on nothing but you’re grateful that you got ff undetected. Your body shakes with small aftershocks and Mando pulls his hand out of your pants.

His whole hand is slick with your juices and the three fingers that were inside of you are coated in a veil of your white cum. Under the cover of the table, he puts his hand back into his glove without even bothering to wipe it anywhere. Your gaze strays from his hand to his crotch, where there is a very noticeable tent in his pants. And that’s all it takes. The thought of him getting hard while fingerfucking you under the table of a busy cantina while he talks business with Karga and you’re automatically wet again.

You suddenly get the urge to give him a little taste of his own medicine and without warning, casually place your hand right over his hardened cock through his pants. You don’t miss the way his cock jumps when it makes contact with the feverish skin of your warm hand through his trousers. You don’t even have time to react when he hurriedly knocks your hand away before you get the chance, grabs five of the pucks off the table and announces, “I’ll take these.”