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You don’t know if it’s his elevated tone or his body language, but you know that he is irritated. His shoulders are tight, and his posture is iron as you storm up to him, feet thundering and kicking up blizzards of snow with each step.
“Which one of you decided that the inside of the Cave was a good idea?” You pointedly speak at the wall of metal in front of you, knowing that he’s just as irritated as you are. “Because I will be lucky if I get out of here with the tip of my nose.”
“The kids' ears are turning grey.” He retorts body only growing stiffer as you retreat to the safety of the crest. “So don’t act like you’re the only one suffering.”
You glance down at the hovering pod, the baby sound asleep but his forehead scrunches as if deep in thought. You feel slightly guilty, you don’t know how good beskar is at keeping him warm but you’d imagine there’s a good chance Mando is uncomfortable as well. “Yeah, well maybe if you actually listened to me instead of insisting on finding a bounty that’s probably buried in permafrost.”
“I’ll remember that the next time you ask me to get you caf in a marketplace. Credits don’t come from hyperspace.” His tone is as biting as the wind. “I’m getting real sick of your attitude.” He turns his head real sharp, not a hitch in his strong pace, “How was I supposed to know the fob would lead us to the wrong place?”
You grit your teeth biting back an angry retort as you gaze into the blank slate of his visor, “Maybe you’re just losing your touch.” Putting on a false sense of acceptance in your voice is the best way to get under his skin, and for just a beat of your heart, your resolve falters as silence falls between you. Did you go too far? He’s the least deserving of this attitude, you know that.
“Okay, once we get off this hellscape I’ll show you just how good my touch is sweet girl.” His cadence immediately washes away the smirk on your face and kickstarts a familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach.
Oh.
Oh no.
You’ve never seen so many trees. There are groves upon groves of thick-rooted trees that have practically slowed your head start to a literal crawl as you duck down into a crouch.
Even with a late start, he’s seemingly tracked you down in what feels like a matter of minutes. The unmistakable heavy steps crush leaves and debris as he snakes through the ravine, getting closer and closer as you do your best to stay quiet. Your breath comes quickly as if the atmosphere is thin. He’s instructed you to run, not to hide, but fear is creeping up your spine and you scramble to find purchase after the footsteps fade away.
There’s a brief moment of relief, as you approach a brook, hoping to use it to disguise your trail. You remove your clunky beat-up boots and step into the clear, surprisingly warm water. You take a few steps across the sandy bottom of the creek, the unusual feeling of wet sand between your toes grounding you at the moment with a smile and a small laugh.
The lack of cover doesn't even occur to you until it's too late, just a flash of silver in your peripheral and you're launching yourself downstream, soaking the thin fabric of your pants.
His footsteps grow louder until they sound like they're tearing down every tree in his path to get to you. You divert your path, deciding to truly make a final break for it, as you drop your shoes on the bank. You climb over roots that are taller than your hips and duck under any that you can fit beneath, but the further you get away from the water the more tangled and frequent the trees become.
Swearing under your breath, you find purchase on a branch, testing its strength before using it to help bolster your other leg over the root. The hair on your neck stands straight as a flash of red light shatters the branch you're using to support yourself, sending you back to the ground firmly. You feel the muzzle of Din’s blaster nuzzle into the small of your back.
“Easy.” Your breath is coming in pants, and your heart is racing out of your chest, does he expect you to fight? But again his voice runs down your spine, calm and his breathing even, “Do I have to restrain you? Or do you think you're ready to surrender?”
You chew on your lip, the longer you hesitate the harder the blaster digs into your back, and you begin to feel the weight of his body trap you to the root. The wood is surprisingly soft under your palms, “I yield.”
You feel the sound before you hear it, a great and deep rumbling in his chest of pure satisfaction, of possessiveness, like a vulptex guarding their catch. “Good.”
There's an increasing amount of pressure on your body, shoving you until you're practically bent in half over the wood and he’s pulling your hands behind your back. You feel the weight of something encapsulate your wrist and then the other before you can even protest your wrists are bound tightly together behind your back. You stammer in surprise “I said I yield.”
“I know, this is more for…” The vocoder cuts, and you wonder if he’s turned it off or even changed his mind before the next weighted words settle deep in your core, “leverage.”
Your body involuntarily shutters, fighting the urge to moan as he begins to strip you from your clothes. “This is what we were doing?” Confidence suddenly bolstered by the neediness in his movements, practically tearing your trousers down your legs. “I could’ve been naked this whole time.”
He’s practically growling over your shoulder, as he tosses his gloves onto the thick branch, “Next time.” He uses his knee to nudge your thighs apart and plants a hand on the wood next to your hip lining himself up, you wince in anticipation knowing the stretch will be painful.
Instead, you heard a curse, and his body’s warmth is gone for a moment, all you can listen to is metal on metal as he tears the rising phoenix from his back, and he takes the cape from his shoulders, and lays it on the wood beneath you in one fluid motion.
Kriff, in the heat of a chase and what's likely going to be the roughest fuck of your life, he’s still worried about the roughness of the wood on your soft skin. Under your breath, you mumble a quick “Thank you.” that he dismisses with a soft caress down your spine.
He feels the tension in your back beneath his palm, as frantic as the need to fuck you is and his normal urge to make it hurt just a little bit not waning, he is aware of just how big his cock is and decides to drag this whole charade to both of your wit's end. “Eyes shut for me C’yare.”
It’s usually unlike you to do as told, but there’s a cutting-edge of a promise in his tone as if he is trying to encourage you to comply for your own benefit. So you do, and in an even more unlikely turn of events, you hear the hiss of his helmet unlatching. Before your scrambled adrenaline-riddled body can even comprehend what's happening it is being lowered over your head. Barely cracking an eye open you realize your vision is null, there is nothing but black for your searching eyes to find.
Your heart beats away in your chest, and the thrill of being caught is now only amplified in a different sense. You begin to wonder why he decided to take this risk when he is usually so careful, so painstakingly stubborn, but then his hot tongue licks up the seam of your core. You curse, his stubble is rougher than usual, and it tickles the back of your thighs, as he tortuously licks into your slit, drinking up each bit of arousal he earns.
“You’re so beautiful for me.” He uses his fingers to separate your lips, displaying the flushed skin of your cunt to his visor-free eyes, “Mesh’la.” He plants a single lingering kiss on your clit, letting his nose nuzzle against your entrance teasingly.
Your knees buckle as you picture yourself laid out for him, pathetically draped over a root and grinding back on his face naked and desperate, while he is dressed in his full regalia, minus the helmet that he places so trustingly upon your head. Swallowing a whine, you start to rock your hips against his mouth in a silent plea for something, anything.
In contrast to his profession, he can be incredibly gentle, at least in the beginning. He suckles and licks at the supple skin of your pussy, coaxing pleasure out of your body with a languid accuracy.
The sudden change from running for your life to being walked to the edge of orgasm is enough to give you whiplash. “You’re doing so well for me.” You know he likely can’t see you but you nod anyway, the praise coming from right against your skin as if he can’t bear to leave your pussy for a breath. “Cum for me so I can take my prize,” Another lingering kiss, “Sweet girl.”
You continue to rock your hips against his face, and he nuzzles deeper sucking your clit into his mouth and shaking his head back and forth, gently but with haste you can feel vibrating through his own body. Your climax all but wrestles you to the ground, knees giving out as you practically sit back onto his face, riding the waves of the orgasm with shudders and cries.
Unable to stop himself he nips at the curve of your ass as he stands up, his cock heavy in the flight suit and weeping against his much cooler skin. You take the moment to try and catch your breath, chest heaving and body still vibrating more than you ever thought possible. The smell of him is surrounding you thanks to his cape, barely making it past the helmet's defenses.
He’s lined up at your entrance within a matter of moments, whatever patience and grace he’s shown you thus far is gone as he plunges his thick and painfully hard cock deep, striking up another fire in your belly.
The plates of beskar adorning his thighs dig into your skin, undoubtedly leaving bruises for him to apologize for later, but the pain only adds to the delicious resonating pleasure with each punishing thrust of his hips. You can hear the root of the tree creaking with his efforts, threatening to break with each slap of your bodies joining together. The pace is inhuman, he’s fucking into you like he wants you to lose the ability to walk, scrubbing so deliciously against that spot that makes you see stars. Then he remembers the cuffs.
One of his hands leaves your hips and wraps tight around the link joining your hands, he starts tugging you back onto his cock with each thrust, fucking deeper than you ever thought possible.
You start to clamp down around him, and as your body goes limp against him he growls, hunching down to bite on your shoulder. The cool shock of his chest plate mixed with the feeling of his teeth in your skin is enough to send you barreling over the edge.
The feeling of your pussy baring down on him draws that delicious tingle at the base of his spine up until his brain and his endless praise are scrambled with the white heat of his orgasm. His hips stutter a few more thrusts, as he pumps ropes of his hot cum deep inside your pussy.
He manages a loose fist against the log so that he may trail some kisses down your back and across your shoulders, it’s not often that he gets to have these moments with you, “Eyes closed again C’yare.”
In the afterglow of your orgasms, he gives you the most gentle and loving of kisses on your mouth, before he returns to being the iron-clad hunter you’ll never doubt again.