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It was a tough day of bounty hunting for the hunk of a man called Din Djarin.
He drags his latest quarry into the Razor Crest, his beloved ship, and throws the creature into carbonite. He sighs, closes up the loading dock, and makes his way further into the ship.
As he makes his way to the cockpit, he checks on his little green son who was sleeping in his cot. The little green blob is still curled up where he was left, so Din decided to leave him there. No use on waking him up and just being cranky.
Din walks into the cockpit and prepares for takeoff. It’s a long road back to Nevarro, and he would prefer to get there as soon as possible.
The vibration of the ship starting up courses through Dins body, starting in his legs and moving up into his abdomen and into his his head.
So it was going to be that kind of flight.
Slowly, din sets the controls to autopilot and stands up. He begins to take off his Beskar piece by piece, setting it gently beside the pilots chair. Excitement is coursing through his veins, and he’s trying to ignore his aching cock straining against his beaten down pants.
Once he is completely stripped minus his helmet, he takes a few moments to put his one true love into hyperspace. Din sighs, one hand already cupping his leaking cock and the other reaching up to take off his helmet.
It was the only time he allowed himself to do so, in the presence of his mate.
Din stroked his cock, but no matter how hard he went something felt wrong, like he was missing something and he couldn’t figure out what it is.
And then his eyes land on one of the control sticks, the one with the metal ball on the end, and he gets an idea.
He stands up, legs shaking as he makes his way over to the control panel. Two fingers find their way into his mouth and then to his ass as he bends over the illuminated buttons and switches. It wasn’t his first time trying this, but it would be their first time going all the way and he wanted to be ready, he wanted to be perfect for his love.
One finger, then two, and by the time his third finger is joining the others his hips are jerking against the cold metal siding, taking satisfaction in the sensation of something other than his hand touching his dick. He can feel the familiar sense start to rise in his body and he pulls away, not wanting to spoil the main event. His fingers pop out of his ass with a squelch, and he feels incredibly empty until he looks up and sees the lever. With the ball. That going to feel so good inside of him.
He gets down and licks lever, eyes closing as pleasure washes over him. He wants this to be good for the Crest as much as it’s good for him.
When the sleek metal is all nice and wet, he positions himself over the thick metal ball.
It’s a tight fit, but because of this thick mouth lube it slides in after a moment and Din sees stars. He pushes in further, feeling the metal push against his walls and he hears moaning. He knows it’s from him but he wants to think it’s from the razor crest, telling him that he’s being such a good boy and making everyone very proud. His hands splay out as he rocks back and fourth, bounces up and down as images pass through his mind. Images of his love, the smooth walls he walks through every day, the lasers that shoot out when he presses a button. The way it carries him around in its insides like it’s no big deal.
But din knows. Din knows how the crest feels about him.
One of his hands find its way to his dick the moment the ball hits a spot inside of him. He’s never felt this much pleasure before. Is this what it feels like? Is this what it’s like to have his love returned?
There’s screaming mixed in with the moaning now, but he doesn’t care. He chases that feeling of pleasure until it’s building, building so high there’s nothing he can do about it and his orgasm courses through his body. He’s shaking, the ball still pressing up against the spot but he can’t move, can’t get up. His body is too weak.
It’s a few minutes before he is able to adjust his body and slide off the metal stick with a pop. He almost collapses to the floor, but the pilots chair is right there to catch him. The crest is always there is catch him when he falls.
He Slumps into the chair and tries not to nod off, knowing he still needs to clean the mess he made.
Din looks over to the side and sees more cum than he’s ever produced before. Splatters, puddles, he’s quite impressed with himself. But more importantly he’s impressed with the razor crest. It has never performed as well as today, and din feels immense pride over his love. He strokes the arm rest and leans down to give it a small kiss.
He will clean up later, he promises. Right now he just wants to spend time together in the afterglow, cuddled up with his mate.
His eyes close, and the soft rumble of the razor crest in hyperspace lull him to sleep.