Still Guts Me That The Background Song When Din Is Arguing With Bo In The Droid Bar Is The Same As When

Din + hands (#for science) 

bonus:

Pedro Pascal’s Master list (Library)

Here’s the library of recommended fan fictions created by these talented writer/artist and without further ado, let’s get the ball rolling! 

PS: Again, warnings are listed on the work itself :) Also, I tagged the whole master list so you have plenty to choose from. This is just first of the many :)

@absurdthirst’s master list: Here 

@storiesofthefandomlovers’ master list: Here for Pedro’s characters and Here (includes other characters)

@artemiseamoon’s master list: Here

@din-damn-djarin‘s master list: Here

@keeper0fthestars‘ master list: Here

@bestintheparsec’s master list: Here

@qveenbvtch’s master list: Here

@fleetwoodmac-tshirt‘s master list: Here

@aerynwrites‘ master list : Here

@forever-rogue’s master list: Here

@sweetfictionalworld’s master list : Here for Pedro’s characters and Here  (includes other characters)

@themarcusmoreno‘s master list: Here

@pikemoreno‘s master list: Here for Pedro’s characters and Here for all Star wars

@pedro-pascal-love‘s master list : Here

@norcula’s master list : Here

@prettyboyskywalker‘s master list : Here

@steeeeeeeviebb‘s master list: Here

@ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa‘s master list: Here

@tiffdawg’s master list: Here

@littlemisspascal‘s Death and an Angel (series) :Here

@f0rever15elf‘s master list: Here

@miraclemoreno’s master list: Here for Pedro’s character and Here for all Triple Frontier 

@bobaandthefetts’ master list: Here

@cinewhore’s master list: Here

@pettyprocrastination‘s master list : Here

@softpedropascal‘s master list: Here

@veuliee2‘s master list: Here

@calliedjarin‘s master list: Here

@zeldasayer’s master list: Here

@pedrosasscal‘s master list: Here

@ithinkwehitametaphor‘s master list: Here (also makes this hilarious Incorrect Narcos Quotes and Incorrect Mandalorian Quotes that I love)

@kingsmanandqueens’ master list: Here

@xwing-baby‘s master list: Here

@maytheglitter’s The Duke and I (series): Here

@writingsnmusings‘ master list: Here 

@djarinbarnes‘ master list: Here

@pascalisthepunkest‘s library: Here

@filthybookworm’s master list: Here

@honeymandos‘ master list: Here

@auty-ren‘s master list: Here

@captn-andor‘s masterlist: Here for Pedro and other star wars characters

@mrpascals‘ master list: Here

@intu-witch-tion’s master list: Here

@nikkixostan’s master list : Here for Pedro and other characters

@mandoalorian‘s master list: Here

@ohwaitimthewriter’s master list: Here for Pedro and other characters

@mypoisonedvine’s master list : Here for Pedro and other star wars characters

@pedroepascal’s master list: Here

@velvetmel0n‘s master list: Here for Pedro and other characters and Here for head cannons

@themand0lorian’s master list: Here

@nakedrogers‘ master list: Here for Pedro and other characters

@pedrosbish’s master list : Here for Pedro and other characters

@dinpascal‘s master list : Here

@mitchi-c‘s master list: Here

@dornish-queen‘s master list: Here

@thirstworldproblemss’ master list: Here

@buttercup–bee’s master list: Here

@fave-fanfic-for-now’s master list: Here

@rae-gar-targaryen’s master list: Here

@perropascal‘s master list: Here

@barnes-dameron‘s : Here for Pedro and other characters

@haildoodles-writing‘s master list: Here for Pedro and other characters

@dindjarin-mandalorian‘s A Soft Place to Land (series): Here

@pedros-mustache’s master list: Here

@talesfromtheguild’s master list: Here for Kinktober list and Here for head cannons

The King of Mand'alor👑

Grogu snuggling into his father’s side.

Little Brat

Summary: A continuation of my previous AU fic Late Night Coffee You and Fox have already established a secretive relationship due to that nature of your works. This is just a fun smutty drabble between the two.

Warning: Explicit (18+) Unprotected sex, blowjobs, sub!reader, dom!Fox, cum play, slapping, PinV, degrading talk, edging , exhibitionism (kinda)

Pairing: Commander Fox (AU) x Reader

Everything that happens is purely consensual. Reader is AFAB (Female)

You grinned, looking up at him, “What are you doing?”

Fox peered at you over his phone, “Capturing the view,” he smirked as he took another candid photo.

“Oh no! Delete that,” you tried to grab the phone out of his hand, “No one needs to see that!”

Fox laughed as he held you to his side, his other arm stretched away from you so you couldn’t reach despite your best efforts. You huffed, accepting defeat as you snuggled closer to him, your legs intertwining with his.

It had been a few months since that late coffee incident brought you two together. As discussed, you two kept it mostly strictly professional at work and tried not to arouse suspicion. Of course, his brothers found out immediately, giving them more ammo to incessantly tease him in and out of work.

“About time,” Rex had joked when he had walked in on you too late one night, you both had thought everyone had gone for the evening.

“You chose him, over me? I should say I am a little heartbroken,” Cody had teased you, when Rex had immediately called him into the office to show him what he found.

Aside from their teasing, they made sure word wouldn’t get out and tried to dispel any media or office rumours that may have started to brew.

You had moved in a couple of months after, it was Fox’s idea as he kept bringing you over, literally peeling you from your bed at your apartment in the middle of the night to carry you to his home. For HR reasons and to keep it a secret, he insisted on you keeping your place but he was currently covering the rent.

You wouldn’t call you both domesticated at this point, you really weren’t sure what you two were. You had never discussed it with him and at this point, felt like it didn’t really matter.

Basking in his warmth, you took the moment to look at him as he stared at the television screen in his bedroom. Alone with Fox, you saw a different kind of man. Yes, he was still an annoying stickler for rules, borderline anxious you would say but he also showered you with more affection than you had imagined. You noticed his eyes were softer, his face more relaxed, his hair that he usually kept in pristine shape was a little messier, curls sticking out in a few places.

“What are you looking at?” He grinned down at you, kissing your forehead.

You cupped his cheek and pulled him into a deep kiss. Your heart fluttered, your body gasping as the residential butterflies returned. The familiar pounding in your ears drummed by as your face became flushed. You really didn’t think you’d ever get tired of kissing this man. He ran his hands through your hair, before pulling you closer, there was raw emotion the way he deepened the kiss, hungry and intense like you were his last meal. His hands roamed over your body,as they finished at the front of your shirt, slowly unbuttoning one by one.

You broke the moment, grinning cockily at him, pulling his hands away. You flopped down next to him and handed him an empty bowl, “More popcorn, please!”

Fox stared at you, his pupils blown out with lust, he couldn’t ignore the uncomfortable tightness in his pants.

“I don’t think so, baby girl,” he growled, tossing the bowl aside as you grabbed you. You rubbed your body against him, he took in your soft form, the fullness of your breasts, your hips expertly finding just the right place to tease him.

“But we have a movie to finish,” you sweetly pointed out, as your hand trailed along the bulge in his pants, “I can’t watch a movie, without popcorn,” you sulked.

“Are you teasing me little one?” he grabbed your wrist, keeping your hand over his confined cock but no longer allowing you to move, “I didn’t give you permission to touch me,”

You bat your eyes at him, pouting, “No,” you pulled free from his grasp, as you removed the loosened tie around his neck and started to open his dress shirt, “I just want to play.”

He quickly pinned you under him, your hands above your head, “Only good girls get to play,”

So it was going to be one of those nights, you smiled to yourself.He broke character only for a moment as he stroked your face, “Safe word?”

“Red,” you assured him. He kissed you quickly, before pulling you up to him, “Clothes off now,”

He shoved you off the bed as you stumbled to get your footing. You took your sweet time, shimming out of your skirt, removing each button one by one to the sway of your hips.

“Don’t make me come over there,” he threatened as you slipped off your dress shirt.

“Oh, baby girl is wearing the present I got her,”

You stood before him in matching red lacy bra and panties. He purposefully bought them a size smaller so that your breasts spilled out over the bra and your panties hugged your ass tightly.

You played with the straps as your hands trailed down to cup your breasts. You moaned loudly as your thumbs grazed over your perked nipples, the thin lace adding a new layer of stimulation that shot down to your core.

“They feel so good, Fox. I’ve never seen them look this big before,” you gasped as you pinched one nipple. Fox was very aware how sensitive you were as he discovered when you came underneath him just from having him suck on your nipples.

After taking a quick photo, that you didn’t notice he had done. He stood up, “Did I give you permission to touch yourself? You really are being a brat tonight.” He turned you around, your back facing him as he pulled your arms behind you. His tie now loose in hand, wrapping it around your wrists, securing them together.

“Little brat needs to be taught a lesson. Kneel.”

You wiggled your arms trying to break free as you whined. You kneeled down with slight effort as you couldn’t use your hands for balance, and kneeled on one of the pillows that had been dropped onto the floor.

You peered up at him, rough thick battering lashes, your lips in a pout letting Fox know how embarrassed you are.

Fox laughs darkly as he roughly grabs your chin, your face closer to the bulge in his pants, “Don’t play shy with me, little one.” he growls as he uses his free hand to unbutton his pants and unzips them with ease like he had done this before.

Your mouth was watering, anticipating to see more of him, you shifted on the pillow, the friction of the lace barely easing the throb in your core. “Fox…”you beg, “Please let me make you feel good.”

You were transfixed on his hand that was gently stroking the outline of his cock that was still covered by his boxer briefs, “If you want it, sweetie, you will need to get it.”

You whined, squirming your shoulders but it was no use to remove the tension of the bindings around your wrist. “But I can’t,” you huffed.

His thumb traced your lips, “Can’t or won’t?”

You whined again, shaking your body and doing a few jumps lifting your ass from your feet.

Fox took a step back, "Is my little slut being a brat now?"

You shook your head, "No, Sir," you mumbled.

You sat up trying to keep your balance on your shaky legs as you leaned closer to him, you kissed his exposed toned stomach trailing down the trail of soft hair to the band of his boxers. You licked your lips as you took the hem of his boxers in your mouth, pulling the front down. You heard the click of the camera as his cock finally sprang free.

You hesitantly licked the tip, grinning when it twitched at your ministrations. You wrapped your lips just around the head, your tongue running along the underside and along his weeping tip. You hollowed your cheeks, peering up at him as you took more of him in, your tongue moving lower as your mouth tried to take the rest of him. You heard another click as Fox gently stroked your hair.

“Mmm, if only you could see yourself,” Fox grunted as he felt your throat constrict around him. Normally he would’ve lost control at this point and start facefucking you hard but because of the loss in the use of your hands he wanted to be sure you were able to express when it became too much.

You hummed against his cock, sending little vibrations over his cock and shocking him up his spine. He threw his head back, “I am so lucky to have such a good cock sucker as an assistant,” he thrusted his hips, a filthy gargle sound came from you as you pulled away from his cock, a thin line of saliva was between your lips and the head. Your breathing uneven, tears threatening to fall as your mascara was clearly ruined.

“Oh, baby, you’re drooling everywhere,”

You glared at him as you took him again in your mouth. Bobbing your head faster this time, you grinned to yourself as you angled your head in such a way that every time you took him in it was like you were swallowing him. Fox felt his legs shake slightly as he tried to keep himself composed. You know what worked to get him off and he wasn’t going to let you be done, not just yet.

He ripped you from his cock holding you by your hair as you let out a small cry, “Are you trying to get me to come so soon, princess?” He snarled as he pulled you up, your back flushed up against his chest, “The only place I am going to come is inside that tight little cunt of yours.”

He dragged you as he went sit on the foot of the bed, throwing you over his knees. “I think it is time to remind you who is in charge.” Your legs were spread out a bit, showing off the soaked part of your panties.

“Look at you,” he ran his finger along your covered cunt, “I can’t believe you are this soaked for me.” He pulled down your panties to the fold of your ass.He shoved two fingers into your weeping cunt as you cried out from the sudden intrusion.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, he was already hitting that smooth soft part of you, pulling you quickly to the edge. Pulling his fingers out to the entrance just as quickly as he shoved them in.. He felt you try to pull him back in, he recognized the familiar feeling of you teetering on the edge.

“Fox please,” you begged, “Use me, stuff me! I need your cock inside me,” You let out screamed when he slapped your ass

"You want your pussy stuffed full? Fucking earn it, girl." he ran his warm palm over your ass. You shook, knowing you were really in trouble now. You bit your lip, whimpering as his hand hovered over your ass cheek.

“You have been a brat all night. We are going to fucking count to twenty and we will see if I feel like even fucking you afterwards.”

Without any additional warning, he slapped your ass.

“O-one!” you stumbled out, “T-two! Ah! T-three.”

Fox was admiring how your skin was reacting to his actions. He noticed how your tied hands were stretched out trying to soften the blow. With his other free hand he grabbed your wrists and kept them still.

You were slouched over, your body hot, you weren’t going to last to twenty. Another slap came down, instead of counting, you just yelled out a ‘fuck’.

“Fuck isn’t a number. This is your only warning, slut.”

You whimpered a sorry as he went for the other cheek, “Five...Six…” he paused for a moment, running his hand over your entrance, feeling you slowly leak out, gently teasing your nub. He wanted to keep you on that edge for as long as he saw fit. He then returned to your ass.

Thanks to his early actions and him now rubbing your clit you blanked out for a moment as he slapped you again. Oh shit! Where were you at? Oh fuck, nonono.

You turned to look at Fox,your face was red and you tried to make yourself small, “Nine?”

Fox looked at you disappointed and angry. “That mouth of yours really isn’t good for anything besides fucking, isn’t it. Don’t deserve my cock in your pussy until you can count properly.” He slapped you in rapid succession to get to nine.

He slapped you again, “Do I need to teach you? Hrmm?”

“No,” you sobbed, “Ten! I am sorry, Sir.”

“Are you my smart pretty little whore who can count?”

"I-I'm your p-pretty whore who can c-count"

"Then fucking count!” as he smacks you again, “Eleven!”

Between his slaps he continued, “I'm going to fix this. If it takes all night, I'll get this pretty whore counting properly"

All you could was squirm and count as loudly as possible. When you finally reached twenty, you could no longer hold yourself up as your ass seared. You knew you weren’t going to be able to sit properly tomorrow.

Fox pulled you up and over into his lap, as you looked at him through wet tears, hiccuping. He tsked as he ran his thumbs over your cheeks, as he shushed you, “You did so well baby,” He kissed your checks as you attempted to control your breathing, “T-thank you, S-s-sir,” you whimpered into his neck. You gasped when you felt his finger glide easily over your slick folds, “Oh baby, I can tell it wasn’t all bad for you.”

You tried to grind yourself against his finger, desperate for anything at this point. Your core ached, as your stomach was tight with desire. With one last kiss and pulling your panties back up, he picks you up and positions you on your back, your head hanging over the edge upside down.

Standing over you, he forces your mouth open as he sinks his cock into your mouth, “Time to remind you who is in charge,” he groans, watching his member disappear into your mouth. You felt your face turn red from the wet noises your mouth and throat would make as you took his cock. His grip on your throat was possessive as he tried to time his thrusts with every cry and ever spasm that was coming from you.

Running his hand over the bulge in your throat, he would praise you "No one has been able to take me so well. You've clearly had a lot of practice." as he snaps another photo. You cried out from his filthy words, your body tingling all over, the bra now too tight as you feel one of your breasts threatening to slip out.

Fox slowly pulls out, running his thumb along your lips, as you try to suck it, “There is my good girl,” he helps you sit back up, kissing your forehead.

“Sir,” you whimper, your shoulders screaming from that last event, “Can you untie me, please?”

Fox parts your hair to the side, as he kisses the secret spot on your nape as you feel him untie your wrists, he rubs the red marks gently as he kisses down to your shoulder blades.

You scoot around to look at him, running your hand along his jawline, feeling the stubble already returning from this morning’s shave. He leaned in, capturing your lips with his. You felt the heat rise from your chest, as you gripped yourself onto him, he had barely touched you tonight and you were tortured beyond belief.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer to you, “Fox...touch me, please.”

Fox ignored your pleas as he kissed along your neck, down the collar and into the valley of your breasts. You hiss bringing your arms back to un-clip the bra and slide it off of you. Cupping your breasts, you lift them, presenting them to Fox, “Pleasseee,” you whine, your voice horse from the screams.

Fox pushes you onto the pillows behind you, “Oh baby girl, always begging. Do you expect me to give into everything you ask?” He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue circling the taut tip. You ran your hands through his hair, as you watched him. His eyes were closed and lets out a low moan as he went to the other nipple.

You felt a sharp tightness in your core, between his soft warm mouth and the look of pure bliss on his face, you began to gasp quietly as you felt the familiar rush sweep over you.

“F-Fox. I am going to come, oh my god, Fox.”

He didn’t respond as he increased his suction, his other hand massaging your other breast. Your grip on his hair tightens, as your body seized, your cunt clenching around nothing, the tightness in your stomach crawls down as you come with silent cry, shaking against Fox’s mouth.

Fox redirected his attention to you, as you were splayed on the bed, your chest rising and falling rapid in rapid succession. You smiled weakly at him as you moved some of the lose curls from his forehead, stroking the grey patch around his temple.

He smiled down warmly at you, taking your hand in his, kissing along the wrist softly as his other hand snaked between your thighs, your panties entirely soaked, as he takes notice of trickle of the juices.

“ Oh sweetie, did I give you permission to come?”

The warmth buzz that was radiating from your body was replaced with a cold shock.

“But, I warned you,” you argued, as you lifted yourself up.

Fox doesn’t respond as he removes your drenched panties, “Tsk, you even ruined my gift. You really are a brat today, aren't you?”

“Sir, please,” you whimpered, as he positioned himself between your thighs.

He kneels down, kissing your forehead, “Prove to me that you can be a good girl and take your punishment,”

His grip on your thighs was bruising as he aligned himself at your entrance, you bit your lower lip, trying to keep your noises at bay, as he slid in at a painfully slow pace.

You gasped when you felt his hips against yours, your body singing as you were finally presented with the stretch you had been yearning for all night.

Fox has his arms at your head, as he slowly thrusted into you, “You are so tight tonight, baby girl. I should make you wait more often.”

You hiked your legs, wrapping around his waist, “You feel so good, Sir. Thank you, thank you for making me so full.” Running your hands over the expanse of his back as you kissed his chest, cooing.

Fox increased his pace, reaching deeper into your core, “Come around me, you wanted it so badly, you can have it.”

You cried out a yes as you ground your hips against him, your release quickly coming, “Sir, I am coming!” you screamed, your cunt clenched around him, you rode that high but immediately felt something against your clit.

“F-Fox, it is ok. I-”

“You’ve been a needy brat all evening, I am just giving you what you want.” his thumb pressed against your clit as he vigorously rubbed. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you let out the most pitiful cries.

You twitched and begged for him to stop, your body leaning into his touch, sending mixed signals. You felt tears start swell at the corner of your eyes, as you felt another orgasm creep up on you. You couldn’t even let in a deep breath as you came around him once again, his thrusts never faltering.

“So, you do listen sometimes,” he teased as he nipped at your neck leaving small red welts. You knew you would be wearing turtlenecks for the upcoming week, “What do you say?”

“Thank you, sir,” you cried, squeezing your eyes, as the tears started to fall.

Fox kissed them, as he snapped his hips at you, “I am close my dirty slut, where do you want me?”

“Inside!” you begged, as Fox continued to fuck you, his fingers thumbed one of your breasts, tugging another orgasm, “Fuck, please, come with me!”

“Come, beautiful. I can’t wait to paint you as mine.”

You were full blown sobbing from the overstimulation and came a final time. Before you could fully come, Fox surprisingly pulled out and quickly stroked his cock, swearing your name as he came on your pussy lips. His juices mixing with yours.

“N-no,” you whimpered, grabbing Fox’s hand trying to force him to shove his mess inside of you.

“Oh no,you little brat,” Fox ran a finger along your cum coated slit, as he forced you to suck, “Only good girls get cum in their pussy, you are lucky I am giving it to you at all. Now clean up.”

Your hand trembled as you scooped up the white mess, hiccuping between sobs as you licked your fingers clean, you moaned at the melange of both of you, as Fox got off the bed to walk to the washroom. Coming out with a damp towel, he cleaned your face that was dribbled with spit, cum and tears,

“You have no idea how beautiful you look right now, my little slut.”

You squirmed under his gaze as you let him clean you off. He guided you under the sheets, as the tv was turned off and the lights dimmed down.

“It wasn’t all bad was it?” He kissed your forehead, still not getting into bed.

You shook your head, snuggling into the soft pillows. You watched him walk around the other side of the bed but he didn’t get, instead he walked back to the washroom.

You let out a panicked cry, “Fox, stay, please!” you begged

Fox came back out, his face washed away of his exertion, he slid into the spot next to you, pulling you close to him instantly, “Sshh, it’s ok,” he played with your hair as the other hand gently massaged your shoulder, “I am staying right here.”

You nuzzled into his chest, the tears had finally stopped and your body finally relaxed, your limbs feeling like jelly.

“Was that too much,” he asked, giving you a quick look over to see how you seemed overall.

You smiled, shaking your head, “No, it was fun,” you assured him, kissing his cheek.

“Good I was wor-”

“Mph, Fox, ssshhhh.” you cuddled in closer to him, as you were already drifting off to sleep.

Fox smirked, as he rested his chin on yours, breathing in your scent as he too fell asleep.

Tag list: @ahoeformando @deewithani @darthmama1618 @hyperspace-spicedreams @tibbietibbs @tacticalsparkles @captainrexwouldnever @book-hoardingdragon @fuckyeahbeskar @kavecika @deathwatchnightowl @bvcketfvcker

If I forgot to add you or wish to bed added/removed from the list please let me know

Unfettered

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: E, 18+ Word Count: 7.4k Warnings: sex pollen, use of restraints, sex-pollened!Mando gets scary and feral, SO MUCH dirty talk, sedation, injections/iv hydration, descriptions of previous injuries and blood, reference to violence, oral (m-receiving) while Mando is chained up but no longer drugged Summary: When Mando is drugged on a job, he begs you to restrain him because he knows he won’t be able to keep his hands off you. Notes: Thank you to @fisforfulcrum for being the best beta and enabler in all the land!

Masterlist | Taglist

gif by @bestintheparsec

You were sitting on a crate in the hull, cleaning your disassembled blaster when the ramp jolted and started to lower with a mechanical whir. You knew it was Mando returning from his solo job—the nav had beeped a little bit ago to announce that he was in range—so you didn’t bother looking up from your task when he strode into the ship.

He slapped the control on the wall and kept his hand pressed firmly to the panel, frozen in place, as the ramp closed slowly. You caught the limited movement in your periphery while you worked, thinking vaguely that he must be exhausted.

“How’d it go?” you asked, rubbing an oily rag along the barrel of your blaster.

Mando didn’t respond. No sigh, no grunt. Nothing.

That grabbed your attention. Mando was never talkative, often relying on one-word rejoinders, but he always answered direct questions, especially from you. Lately, he was even initiating conversations during the long stints in hyperspace between one bounty and the next.

You looked up and were surprised to see that there was no quarry in sight—it was just Mando standing at the far end of the hull, his gloved hand still pressed to the control panel like he couldn’t bring himself to move. He looked… agitated. You could read the tension in his body; the fist hanging by his side was clenched and his shoulders were drawn up.

“Mando?” you asked, the confusion apparent in your voice, as you set your blaster down and got to your feet.

“No.” Without moving from his position, he whipped his head around and held up a palm to halt your advance. “Don’t… Don’t come any closer.”

“What—?”

He pointed a threatening finger at your chest. “Stay. There.”

You were so shocked by his unexpected command that you obeyed, staying rooted to the spot.

That’s when you really took in his appearance: he was shaking, the hand pointed at your chest trembling slightly. His armor was dirty—smeared with what was unmistakably blood—and his cape had a new ragged tear up the side. His chest was heaving as if breathing alone was a herculean effort.

When he saw that you were listening to him, he nodded stiffly and wrenched his hand away from the wall. With leaden steps, he walked over to a large storage crate and dragged it into the middle of the floor. Each of his mechanical movements looked like it required every ounce of his control to execute.

“Why—?”

He grunted, ignoring your question again. You watched in stunned silence as he stripped off all of his weapons, even his vambraces and spare ammo, with stunted, jerky motions and dropped them into an unceremonious pile on the floor next to him. Mando usually spent hours caring for those weapons, so it was jarring to see them discarded carelessly like that.

He crouched and ripped the lid off the crate, letting it clatter to the floor. He rooted around and when he straightened a moment later, he was holding chains—thick, hefty chains with menacingly large iron links—in his gloved hands. You watched in confusion as he set down the heavy tangle on the floor with a clank and hunted through the strands until he located the ankle restraints. He extracted them and began to fasten them around his own ankles, one at a time. Your jaw dropped.

“Mando, what the fuck are you doing?”

He whipped his helmet up to look at you and commanded: “Help me with this.”

You scrunched your eyebrows together: “Why?”

“Just do it.”

“I’m not going to chain—”

Before you could even finish your sentence, he snarled: “Just shut up and fucking help me.”

You stood there, dumbstruck, and cycled through several emotions in rapid succession. Your initial shock was immediately replaced by irritation as you registered his rude words. Anger flickered brightly across your consciousness, but it was quickly supplanted by confusion: he had never spoken to you in that tone of voice, let alone told you to shut up. Finally, fear settled in, thick and weighty, like a fog threatening to choke you.

You approached him slowly, kneeling on the other side of the tangle of chains.

“What happened to you?” you asked gently, reaching out to touch his arm.

He jerked away immediately, so quickly that he almost lost his balance. He thrust out an arm to steady himself on the wall behind him.

“Don’t—don’t touch me. Please.” His voice was suddenly small, almost quavering.

Your heart rate kicked up again.

“Mando, you’re scaring me. Tell me what’s going on.”

He looked up at you, voice slightly softer but still firm and urgent. “Help me with this, then I’ll explain.”

You stared at him.

“Please,” he repeated—beseechingly.

He was begging you. That was when the real fear sank in.

Without another word, you helped him get the wrist cuffs in place. Then, standing beside him, you followed his directions as he instructed you to secure the ends of the four chains: two to bolts on the wall, and two to bolts on the floor. The two on the wall were affixed to his arm restraints, the two on the floor to his ankles. Initially, you left slack in the chains, plenty of room for him to move, but he insisted that you tighten them enough so that his back was almost flush to the wall and he couldn’t extend his hands out any further than the natural reach of his long arms.

He sighed, shoulders slumping in relief, when you clicked the last restraint in place.

You looked up at him. Mando was strung up against the wall of this ship, arms hanging by his sides, suspended about a foot away from his body, and his legs were splayed slightly in a wide stance, boots a couple feet apart.

It was quite a sight.

If you weren’t so worried about what was happening, you’d definitely be having some... ideas. They were completely inappropriate ideas, especially considering the stark reality that the two of you were nothing more than hunting partners.

“Th-thank you,” he breathed. “Now, p-please, step away from me.”

You reluctantly complied, taking several careful steps backward, keeping your gaze trained on his visor.

“Okay, I did what you asked. Now tell me what happened.”

His breathing was still labored. “H-hit with a bio-dart, aphrodisiac drug. Strong... Heard of them before, but never encountered one until now.”

You gave him a skeptical look, raising one eyebrow, “...An aphrodisiac drug as a weapon? I thought that was a myth.”

“Apparently not.”

You surveyed him again as the reality of the situation washed over you.

He continued, words spilling out of his mouth in a rush like he was running out of time to explain: “H-had to get back to the ship. Didn’t trust myself. Left the body there. I’ll go back for it later. No-no time to bring it back. I had-had to—before I—”

His whole body tensed suddenly, cutting off his own sentence, and he threw his head back as an ugly, feral sound tore from his chest.

You stepped forward, hand outstretched. “Fuck, are you okay? Does it hurt?”

You panicked, desperately trying to think of some way to help him as he flailed.

He writhed for another moment then thankfully stilled, slowly raising his head to look at you again. He sounded wrecked when he spoke again: “No, no. It doesn’t hurt, not exactly. Not yet at least. It’s—it feels like...” He trailed off, glancing toward the floor.

You prompted him: “Like what?”

Before he could answer you, another wave wracked through him, and he thrashed against the restraints. You fought the urge to cross the space and soothe him. Even in the most stressful, life-threatening situations, Mando was always the picture of composure: calm, collected, calculating. So, it was unnerving to see him like this—overcome and out of control. You were itching to touch him, to ease his discomfort somehow. After another moment, he recovered.

When his visor found your face again, he rasped: “It feels like if I don’t fuck you right now, I’m going to die.”

His words hit you like a slap in the face. You swallowed hard, staring at him... all thoughts suddenly gone, mind completely blank.

He filled the fraught silence, straining forward slightly, his voice dipping an octave: “I want to fuck you so badly, baby.”

Your heart dropped at the unexpected pet name, a wave of wetness unapologetically gathering between your thighs.

Fuck. This was not at all the situation you had imagined—Mando drugged and chained up—but you had definitely dreamt of him saying some version of those words to you... on a regular basis, like maybe every night you ever spent with him on the Razor Crest.

He spoke again, trembling as he said: “This is fucking torture, you standing there, looking like that. And I can’t even fucking touch you. Shit. Shit. Shit. I want to—I want to touch you.”

Without your explicit permission, your feet moved you one step forward.

Mando shook his head back and forth violently, helmet jerking like he was trying to clear unwelcome thoughts by sheer force. “Dank ferrik, this is really fucking with my head. I’m-I’m sorry—I’m not myself.”

Only one question came to mind, one thing you were desperate to know.

“So...it’s just the drug?”

You waited, holding your breath, hoping he knew exactly what you were asking him.

He snapped his helmet up, meeting your gaze. He sounded surprisingly sober for a moment. “No. It’s not,” he stated bluntly. “I always want to fuck you. It’s just now I... I can’t control that urge.”

Suddenly, the drafty hull felt hot, suffocatingly so. You inched forward again.

His confession flooded you with courage. “What if... what if I want you to fuck me?”

Mando whined, body convulsing, shoulders collapsing forward as far as they could against his arm restraints. You were so shocked by the foreign sound that you actually took a step back—you’d never, ever heard him make a noise remotely close to that. You’d cauterized gaping wounds for him, removed a jagged blade from deep in his thigh, witnessed him take a blaster bolt to the side, sutured countless lacerations with no local anesthetic... but you’d never heard him whine. It was high and needy, desperate and pathetic as it grated through his modulator.

“Don’t-don’t say that, please don’t fucking say that to me right now... please... I c-can’t handle it.”

The chains creaked ominously, the links clanking together as he shifted against them.

“But, I mean it. I always want you to fuck me too,” you continued, ignoring Mando’s feeble requests.

You squeaked and flinched back again when Mando suddenly lunged forward, hands gripping the chains and pulling hard. His arms and legs were immediately wrenched back, his torso straining toward you. He panted: “Gods, you don’t know how long I’ve dreamt of you saying-saying that to me, mesh’la.”

Even through his visor, his stare was scalding, his gaze scorching your skin as he surveyed you, helmet trailing all the way down and back up your body.

You stepped toward him.

He jerked his head to the side suddenly, tearing his gaze away, and whined again—more quietly this time, more resigned. When he said the next words, you could hear how tightly his jaw was set: “Not like this. I-I won’t fuck you for the first time like this. I-I won’t forgive myself if I hurt you.”

You took another, much larger step forward.

“You won’t hurt me.”

He whipped his helmet up to watch you again. His voice was dangerous now, menacing, as he growled: “Yes, yes—I will. You don’t understand what this feels like. I can’t control myself—it’s a fucking miracle I didn’t take you the moment I walked back onto the ship and saw you sitting there—so kriffing gorgeous—and it’s only gotten worse.” He let out another frustrated growl, then continued: “I don’t just want to fuck you, I want to wreck you, I want-want to wreck you until you can’t walk and then fuck you again. I want to tear you apart. Ruin you with my cock.”

He said those words like a threat, but you couldn’t help the way they sent heat coursing through your veins, a shiver down your spine. You stepped toward him one more time. You were almost within his reach.

“DON’T,” he ordered, voice deadly serious. “Really, I can’t control myself. S-stay back.”

Even as he told you to stay away, though, he reached a hand out for you, legs and arms straining forward, trying to get closer to you. His mouth was saying one thing, his body begging for another.

You stayed where you were, just out of his reach, and asked: “How long will this last?”

“I don’t know... I hope no longer than a few hours. It’s already been at least an hour since I got hit. But it’s-it’s gotten worse.”

You could hear the exhaustion and exertion in his voice. He was barely holding it together, and you knew you needed to do whatever you could to make this easier on him, not harder. So, you shoved down your own selfish desire and with great reluctance, stepped away from him. You sat back down on the crate across from him and said, “Then, I guess… we’ll wait it out.”

He nodded vaguely, leaning against the wall behind him with a loud sigh.

You sat in uncomfortable silence for several long minutes. You busied yourself by reassembling your blaster. Every so often, the restraints jangled loudly when Mando was wracked by a brutal surge of need and struggled violently. You tried your best not to flinch every time it happened.

Eventually, he disrupted the silence by saying your name.

Before you even looked up at him, though, you knew—you knew that Mando was gone.

His voice had dropped several octaves, and it sounded different... honeyed, charming, drawling, depraved. It was fucking sultry. When you looked up at him, you immediately noticed his body language. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what exactly had changed, but something about him was off.

All you knew was that, suddenly, a dangerous stranger was standing across the hull from you. For the first time, you were truly grateful for those thick fucking chains.

His voice was smooth and calm when he said: “I need your help, sweetheart.”

You looked away from him, studying the silver sheen of the blaster in your hand instead. The way he rasped the word sweetheart would be burned into your brain for the rest of your life. It made your whole body feel hot.

“Come over here, beautiful,” he coaxed. “I’ve wanted you for so long, and now I know you want me too—you can’t hide from me anymore, princess.”

Princess. You didn’t answer. You just sat in silence and shrieked internally.

He said your name again—this time more urgently—then abruptly changed his tack: “Maker, this hurts so much now, it burns—I need you to make it stop hurting. Be a good girl and help me.”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek.

When you didn’t respond, he tested a third approach, his voice pitching low and sensual: “Please, cyar’ika, don’t you want me? I’m so fucking hard for you right now. I’ll make you feel so, so good, make you cum again and again. Just-just let me touch you. Let me show you.”

You stayed quiet, trying to remember how to breathe. He was playing all the angles—appealing to your conscience and your libido. The second strategy was harder to ignore.

“Come here and feel how hard I am for you.”

Fuck.

His voice was pure sin, purring and growling for you. He was fucking luring you in with it. He said your name one more time, and your resolve cracked a little.

You looked up at him, setting your blaster down beside you.

“Yes, that’s it, baby. Come over here.”

Against all odds, you stayed seated.

“Come make me feel good, and I’ll make you feel good.”

There was no way you could just sit and listen to this forever, so you made a decision. You shot to your feet.

“Yes, sweet girl, that’s right. I knew you’d do the right thing—always so good to me. Let me down from here, and I’ll take my time with you, show you all the things I’ve imagined doing to your body.”

Sweet fucking hell.

“I’m going to make you cum on my tongue so hard it hurts, and then I’m going to kiss it better.”

He was going to kill you.

You turned abruptly and walked to the ladder, placing your foot on the first rung.

“NO! Fuck—don’t do this,” he raged behind you. You could hear the squeak of the links shifting against each other as he heaved himself forward.

Steeling yourself, you started to ascend the ladder. The only way for you to survive this was to lock yourself in the cockpit, far away from the temptation of his damn voice.

Mando roared and thrashed behind you.

You were halfway up the ladder when you heard it—an angry metallic whine and the pattering of several small objects hitting the floor. You whipped your head around and watched as the durasteel panel that his right wrist restraint was fastened to began to peel away from the framework of the ship, several of the bolts already missing.

The piercing sound seemed to jolt Mando out of his drugged haze. When you dropped down from the ladder and faced him, you could tell that he was himself again. He stepped back against the wall, putting as much distance as he could between the two of you.

When he spoke, his voice had returned to its normal register and cadence, all business. “Fuck—fuck, you have to drug me. You have to.”

Your jaw dropped: “Drug you?? More?”

Words poured out of his mouth, desperate and rushed: “In the med kit,” he pointed, “there’s a shot—PLEASE, sedate me now. It’ll knock me out for a couple hours while the worst of this works through my system. Otherwise, these chains won’t hold. Please, just fucking do it—there’s nowhere that you can hide from me if I get out of these.”

When you didn’t move right away, he bellowed: “DO IT NOW.”

You scrambled over to the medkit, whipping it open and digging around.

“PROMISE ME—promise me you’ll do it, no matter what I say to you. Promise me right now that you’ll do it! Please.”

You looked up at him, your heartbeat loud in your ears. “I will, I promise, Mando.”

His shoulders slumped in relief.

You rooted around, moving past several other items—you took note of an intravenous hydration pouch and filed that information away for later—until you located the appropriate syringe of sedative.

As soon as you turned and approached Mando, you could tell he was lost again. He flipped so fast that if you’d blinked, you might have missed the subtle shift in his body language.

When you were just a few feet away from him, he threw out a palm—this time, not to reach for you, but to halt your advance.

First, he tried appealing to your reason.

“No, no, cyare, don’t. I shouldn’t have asked you to do that. What if there’s an interaction between the drugs? Could be dangerous. There’s no way to know.”

It almost worked for a second.

You took another step toward him.

Next, he tried bargaining.

“How can I hurt you when I’m chained up like this? The rest of these will hold, I know they will. And it won’t matter anyways; I won’t need the restraints at all if you just help me—if-if you give me what I need.”

You looked away from him, training your gaze on the metal floor again. “You know that’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. I was wrong before; it’s-it’s getting better. I can control myself now. I just need you, and everything will be okay. I’ll be—I’ll be gentle with you, so gentle, I promise.”

You forced out one word: “No.”

He didn’t say anything for a long, drawn-out moment. The tension was so thick that against your better judgment, you looked up again. He looked so anguished, so distressed... shoulders tense and fists clenched. You felt bad for him.

Finally, he tried straight-up seduction.

“Please—just, fuck—I need to fuck you. Your cunt, your mouth, let me fuck you. You can have me however you want me, love.”

All of a sudden, your thoughts were hazy, slow like molasses. You were stuck on the fact that he’d called you love.

“I think about fucking you right here in the hull, bending you over a crate and licking your perfect pussy until you cry for me. I always wonder what you’ll sound like when you’re taking my cock.”

You were trying to block out his words, to ignore the honey dripping from his lips. You just—you just wanted a taste.

“I have to know how you taste.”

So did he, apparently. You clenched your thighs. Fuck, you just wanted him to keep talking.

“I think you’ll make the sweetest fucking sounds when I make you cum—I’ve imagined it. I think you’ll whine for me—but I bet I can make you scream too.”

He’d wanted you, too—all this time.

All this time, you’d both been lusting after each other, separated by nothing more than the thin durasteel walls of this ship and a healthy dose of doubt.

“I just need to cum, and then this will all be better. I know it. The drug will leave my system. Don’t you want to help me?”

You did want to help him.

Your eyes wandered down his body, and your brain short-circuited when you saw the outline of his aching cock pressing against the fabric of his flight suit. It made your mouth water.

You wanted him. He wanted you. Why overthink it?

He could tell that it was working, that you were considering his words, so he continued cautiously, bargaining with you: “You don’t even have to unchain me. Just get down on your knees for me, like a good girl.”

Now THAT made you hesitate, made you stop in your metaphorical and physical tracks—but only because it sent a jolt of pure arousal down your spine, electricity igniting every goddamn nerve in your body so fast and intense it almost hurt.

“Don’t you want to open that mouth for me and suck my cock, pretty baby?”

As if on command, your jaw fell open, tongue darting out to lick your parted lips, and you took another step forward.

Oh, shit.

You did want to. You really fucking did. You wanted to get on your knees for him. You wanted to suck his cock and have him tell you how good you looked doing it. You were aching to hear his praise, to taste him, to make him feel good. He deserved relief.

And so did you.

You wouldn’t even have to unchain him. It would be fine. You’d be safe, and he would feel better.

You took another step.

You were close to him now—you didn’t realize you’d crept this close—almost within his reach.

Mando started talking again, capitalizing on this progress: “Gods, I’ve thought about your sweet mouth, those soft lips, wrapped around my cock, taking me down your throat so well. I think about it every fucking night when I fuck my fist. You’d look so good down on your knees for me, mesh’la.”

You watched as he got caught up in his own fantasy, mumbling on and on about every sinful thought he’d ever had about your mouth. You could tell his eyes were closed behind his visor, his head tipped back in bliss. Gradually, he started bucking his hips forward, like he could actually feel your lips around him, like he was chasing a phantom sensation. He was so completely absorbed in the picture he was painting, so drunk on the potential that for a second, he’d forgotten the literal hell he was currently in.

“Sometimes I can’t even focus when you talk to me because I’m just thinking about how your tongue would feel on the tip of my cock, licking me, sucking... so wet and warm, taking me deep like the good fucking girl you are, letting me fuck your mouth, until I’m cumming down your throat and you’re swallowing for me—swallowing everything I have to give you.”

Fuck, the picture he was painting was enticing you just as much as it was enticing him. It was a picture you’d had in your own head for months, one that you’d made yourself cum to so many times you’d lost count.

Before you could stop yourself, you took that final step toward him and extended your hand. You grazed your fingers over the bulge in his pants, and he was jolted out of his waking dream by your unexpected touch, snapping his helmet down to watch your fingers stroke him.

He choked on nothing. “Please, baby, please.” He was begging now, but his voice wasn’t soft or pleading like it had been when he was asking you to chain him up. Now, it was furious, demanding, and desperate.

He needed this.

Fuck, who were you kidding? You needed this.

You cupped him, pressing against his erection more firmly, and his hips pressed back, chasing that delicious friction. Your aching cunt clenched around nothing when you registered just how big his cock was under your hand.

You were so close to unbuckling his belt, to unzipping his pants. So fucking close. But a whisper of guilt in the back of your mind made you hesitate. The weight of the syringe in your left fist was an insistent reminder: you’d promised him—sane, right-in-his-mind Mando. You’d promised that Mando that you wouldn’t give in.

Fuck.

You stilled your hand.

Mando’s helmet snapped up, meeting your eyes, and tension pulled taut between you. You were both frozen, paralyzed—you by indecision and he by fury.

The seconds stretched on.

Mando broke first.

He ripped his right arm forward as hard as he possibly could, and with a furious squeal, the metal panel—the loose one you’d completely forgotten about—started to bend away from the wall even more, exposing a complicated mess of wires and pipes underneath. You watched as two more bolts popped out of place and clattered to the floor somewhere behind you. It was almost fully separated from the wall now; three remaining bolts along the bottom edge struggled to keep it in place against Mando’s brutal strength.

The screeching sound shocked you—dragging you forcefully back to reality—and you yanked your hand away from him, but at the same time, Mando’s heavy hand landed on your shoulder. He was finally able to reach you given the newfound slack in his restraint, and his fingers dug into your flesh, wrenching you forward.

He knocked his helmet against your forehead, holding you there with an iron grip.

Ouch.

You were so close to him that you could hear the words before and after they hit his modulator: “I know you want it. Take it. Take what you need, mesh’la. It’s yours.”

Every breath ripping from his lungs was harsh and labored, his chest heaving. You could feel the rage and pure need radiating off of him in waves. His left fist was clenched so tightly around the chain that the leather of his glove creaked.

“I can’t, Mando,” you said, stern but apologetic.

The energy in the hull shifted abruptly at your refusal, and you had the good sense to pull away from him just seconds before Mando reared back and launched himself forward, throwing his whole body toward you, only to be yanked back by the restraints. Those three bolts, the last hope of keeping Mando fully restrained, squeaked ominously as he jerked his limbs as hard as he could, the chains fully extended. He was snatching at the air a few inches from your chest.... reaching, reaching for you

And you were stuck, frozen in place, watching his grasping fingers hovering in front of you.

In a terrifying voice you didn’t even recognize, he roared: “GET ON YOUR FUCKING KNEES.”

Oh, he was truly lost. He was beyond recognition, beyond bargaining or soothing. He was enraged, throbbing with need. There was only one course of action now.

Another bolt clattered to the floor.

You dropped to your knees, careful to stay close to the ground and out of his reach as you crawled forward. You were trying so, so hard to not be distracted by the obvious strain of his thick cock against his pants, but now it was directly in front of your fucking face.

He pointed an accusing finger down at the syringe clutched in your left hand. “Don’t. Don’t. DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE.”

You ignored him, the needle poised over the unarmored part of his thigh. The next few moments played out in slow motion.

Mando bellowed: “NO!”

He ripped his arm forward again, and the metal panel whined, bending forward even more. Another bolt popped off, skittering across the floor and landing by your feet.

One. One single bolt remained in place.

And Mando’s right hand was suspended only a few inches above where you were crouched close to the ground.

Lightning fast, you jabbed the needle into his thigh and emptied it in a matter of seconds. He roared in anger, thrashing against the chains, trying to snatch at your hand. When the entirety of the drug had been injected, you ripped it away and scrambled backwards, getting to your feet. Mando struggled and shuddered for a moment, growling all the while, wrenching his arm farther and farther forward—the metal panel screaming as it bent—centimeter by centimeter.

It was too late—you’d waited too long, and he was going to rip it clean off the wall before the drug hit him.

You reached back blindly, relief spreading through you when your hand landed on Mando’s rifle, sitting amidst his pile of discarded weapons. You gripped it and flicked the controls, setting it to stun. Keeping your eyes fixed on Mando’s thrashing form, you sank slowly to one knee, propping the rifle up your other, ready to incapacitate him if necessary.

Your finger hovered over the trigger.

Mando’s movements were suddenly slower, weaker, less coordinated. You moved your finger away from the trigger and let out a breath of relief as the drug finally seemed to take hold. He took a faltering step backward, and his plated shoulders hit the wall with a hollow clang. He slurred something incoherent at you, and thankfully, finally... finally, he stilled, head sagging forward drunkenly, arms going slack. He slouched against the wall, knees giving out as he slid to the floor, arms extended up and to the sides by the restraints—the right much lower than the left—and his bent knees slightly splayed.

The position couldn’t be comfortable for him, but you were too scared to adjust his restraints—worried that so much movement would likely rouse him.

You waited a good twenty minutes—pacing back and forth as quietly as possible—finalizing the details of an idea in your head. You waited until you were totally sure he was knocked out before you approached him again. First, you placed his rifle in the middle of the floor—out of his reach, but in a position that you’d be able to grab it if needed. Then, you retrieved the hydration bag you'd noted earlier and your sharpest knife. With those supplies in hand, you tiptoed forward. You squatted on Mando’s left side, gripped his bicep lightly... and waited. When he didn’t move, you continued. You held your breath as you carefully, so carefully to avoid nicking his skin, cut a generous hole in his flight suit at his elbow.

Hopefully he wouldn’t mind that you were sort of butchering his favorite outfit—you’d offer to sew it later.

As hard as you tried not to, the movement jostled the chains, and they clanked and rattled. It was a quiet sound, but it felt so kriffing loud in the oppressive silence. Mando’s breath hitched slightly, disrupting the deep, regular rhythm of his sleep. His fingers twitched. You froze, then slowly set down your blade and started reaching back for his rifle.

To your immense relief, before you could wrap your hand around the stock, his breathing returned to normal—slow and steady.

You returned to your task, clipping the IV bag to a pipe on the wall above his slumped shoulder and cleaning the skin over the bulging vein visible through the soft flesh of his inner elbow. He didn’t react to the cold alcohol wipe, but he did jerk violently when you pressed the tip of the needle into his skin. You tensed, ready to drop everything and back away if you needed to, but he stilled again, muscles relaxing. You pressed the needle far enough into his vein and taped it in place. You double-checked that the drip was working, then backed away slowly, taking your blade and the rifle with you.

You waited like that, leaned against the opposite wall of the hull, Amban rifle never out of reach. You were unwilling to let him out of your sight, so you remained there, tense and waiting. When the IV bag was empty, you scurried forward and peeled back the tape on his arm—painfully slowly—and eased the needle out before you scrambled back to your spot.

Over two hours after he had passed out, he stirred, head lifting slowly.

“Mando?”

He looked around for a moment, studying his surroundings. He gripped the chains in his fists and attempted to pull himself up, faltering slightly before he eventually succeeded by bracing his back against the wall. He looked slightly unsteady on his feet. His visor found your face across the hull, and he rasped your name.

“How do you feel?”

His voice was dry and croaky. “Better... I feel better. Normal.”

“Good.”

He stood there, relaxed, getting his bearings. All the rage and tension had left his body. He looked like Mando again.

“How long has it been?”

“Since I knocked you out? About two hours.”

He cocked his helmet. “I thought the drug would have lasted longer.”

“I gave you fluids to flush it out of your system faster,” you explained, tapping the inside of your own elbow to demonstrate.

He looked down at his cut up shirt.

“Good thinking,” he nodded.

“Yeah, and thank fucking Maker it worked,” you laughed. “You started to get scary there at the end.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, hanging his head in shame.

“Do you remember anything?”

He looked up at you. “I remember everything.” Then, glancing up at the bent panel above his right shoulder, he continued, “I’m sorry, mesh’la. I would never have forgiven myself if I hurt you.”

You noted the use of a pet name, wondering if this new habit of his would persist. You hoped it would.

You gave him a sympathetic look, shaking your head. “You weren’t yourself. You have nothing to apologize for.”

He nodded. “Still—I’m sorry. But, you can unchain me. It’s safe now. I promise.”

You stayed where you were.

He seemed normal again, but you’d witnessed just how persuasive drugged Mando could be.

Luckily, he could read your hesitation. “It’s okay,” he reassured you. “I understand. Let’s give it some more time. I want you to feel safe.”

He leaned back against the wall and started sliding down to his seated position.

His sudden patience was all the confirmation you needed.

“I believe you.”

He flicked his head back up to look at you and straightened, watching you as you took a few steps toward him.

“Did you mean what you said?”

He quirked his helmet at you. “About what?”

You wavered for a second, doubt creeping into your mind. What if it really was the drug talking the whole time? What if he only said all those things because he was out of his mind, desperate to fuck anyone... and you just happened to be in front of him?

You steeled yourself. The only way to know was to ask: “That you want me? That you’ve always wanted me?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“It wasn’t just the drug talking?”

He scoffed: “No, it wasn’t.”

A mixture of relief and want settled in your belly. And you could finally have what you wanted.

You approached him slowly. When you were standing directly in front of him, instead of reaching for his restraints, you hooked your fingers in his belt. Mando watched your movements, his arms straining forward slightly.

“What are y—”

He choked on his words when you started to unbuckle his belt. He moaned when you unzipped his fly and pulled out his aching cock. It was still red and leaking, throbbing with need in your hand. His mind might have been clear, and he might have been in control of himself now, but the physical effects of the drug had clearly not worn off fully.

You looked up at him through your lashes and licked your lips suggestively, then flicked your eyes back down to his cock in your hand.

Mando’s head dropped back against the wall with a hollow clank. “Oh shit, oh fuck, yes p-please, baby, please—”

Before he could finish his stuttering request, you sank to your knees and took him as far into your mouth as you possibly could. He let out a broken moan when he slipped past your lips, canting his hips forward to chase the welcoming heat of your mouth. He was big, and you had to wrap your hand around the base of his cock to cover the length that wouldn’t fit in your mouth.

He shuddered above you, tilting his helmet down to watch you. You paused there, holding him, hot and heavy on your tongue. You waited a long moment, taking advantage of the fact that he was totally at your mercy. The longer you waited, the more he fidgeted, hips inching forward, cock twitching impatiently.

“I—”

When he started to speak, you interrupted him by giving him exactly what he wanted, hollowing your cheeks around him and sucking hard. You thought back to what he’d said to you, replaying all those things he’d imagined you doing to him. You pulled back to circle your tongue along the head of his leaking cock and flicked it along his slit, working the rest of him with your slick hand.

While you bobbed up and down on him, your other hand wandered up his thigh and rucked his pants lower, easing his balls free. You massaged them, manipulating them between your fingers, and Mando’s head lolled back again, his helmet clunking dully against the wall. His knees buckled slightly, the chains connected to his wrists pulling taut as he gripped them. In the space where you had cut his shirt away, you could see his muscles rippling, the veins swelling under his golden brown skin as he flexed.

Taking him in your mouth had you aching for him, clenching your thighs together to try and relieve the growing tension. Losing patience, you released his balls and snaked that hand under your own waistband to press down on your swollen clit and whined around his thick cock.

Mando snapped his head down at the needy sound. His helmet followed your movement, and he gritted out, “Shit, does this turn you on, sucking my cock like this? Are you wet for me, mesh’la?”

You hummed around his cock and ran your fingers through your wet folds then extracted your hand from your pants, reaching up to drag your glistening fingertips over Mando’s knuckles where his fist was clenched around the chains.

“Fuuhhh-ckkk, I can’t wait to taste you, to feel how wet you are.”

With that same hand, you reached down and unzipped your pants. Mando let out an inarticulate string of syllables above you as he watched you tug your pants and panties halfway down your thighs with one hand. You let him slip from your mouth for a moment—working him over with long, tight strokes of your slippery hand in the meantime—to say, “Keep talking, tell me how you’re going to fuck me, Mando.”

You took him back into your mouth, and as you rubbed tight circles over your clit, he started rambling on about all the things he wanted to do to you, all the ways he wanted to explore your body: “F-fuck yes, I want to taste your pussy, I want to watch you finger yourself just like this until you’re dripping then-then let me lick your fingers clean—”

You whined around his girth; your body was responding to his words, the tension coiling tight and hot in your core. Your knees slid apart slightly on the slippery metal floor. They were going to be bruised blue and purple tomorrow. Worth it.

“Th-then I want to put a blindfold on you and-and lick your clit until you cum on my tongue. Yeah—oh shit, baby, yes, just like that, hnghhh—then, then I want to fuck you from behind, hard and deep, until you’re soaking my co—”

You moaned shamelessly, the sound vibrating deep in your throat, and Mando choked above you.

“Are-are you going to make yourself cum with my cock in your mouth?”

His visor was glued to your face, the lip resting on his chestplate, as he angled his head down to watch you. You nodded slightly, eyes wide and desperate, pupils blown with lust, as you did your best to keep up your steady pace on his cock while you were simultaneously falling apart yourself. As the tension in your body built, your mouth and hand faltered on him, losing their rhythm, and your ministrations were suddenly stunted and irregular.

“Gods, you’re so kriffing perfect—use both hands on yourself, put-put your—”

You had all but stopped moving everything but the hand between your legs, eyes falling closed as you focused completely on your own impending orgasm. Following his directions, you dropped the hand on his cock down to your cunt, spreading your thighs more to push two fingers inside yourself. You let out another muffled noise, and you could tell Mando loved the sounds you made with his cock stuffed in your mouth by the way his hips bucked forward.

One of your hands worked over the stiff peak of your clit, the other thrusting your fingers in and out of you, and that feeling—that delicious, fucking fantastic tension that had been building since the moment Mando had said he wanted to fuck you hours ago—threatened to snap.

“K-keep it in your mouth, just like that and make yourself cum—you’re close, I can tell you’re close—shit, fucking shit—”

He was throbbing on your tongue, pulsing with need. In the absence of the slick sounds of your mouth and hand working over his length, you could hear the sound of your own wetness as your fingers moved in and out of your dripping cunt.

“That’s right, pretty baby, cum with my cock in your mouth—fuck, I can hear how wet you are—look-look up at me—”

You opened your eyes and looked up at him just as your cunt tightened around your fingers. You let out a muffled wail around his girthy length as you came, and he groaned low and deep as he pressed his hips forward to keep himself buried in your mouth.

You slowed your hands to a still as the final reverberations of your pleasure waned, your moan fading to a quiet whimper. You pulled off Mando’s cock with a slick pop to take a deep, shuddering breath.

“Now you’re going to cum in my mouth.”

“Fuuckk—”

You gripped the base of his hard, leaking cock and wrapped your lips around him once more.

Right away, he started thrusting into your mouth, his knees buckling, most of his weight suspended on the chains gripped in his hands.

“C-close—”

His voice cut out, words replaced by feral moans and grunts, as he bucked into you.

You hummed around him, running your free hand up his quad, hooking it around the back of his leg to hold him in place against you. You could feel the way his muscles strained and clenched under your palm as his body grew taut.

“I’m—hnngh—”

He came with a hoarse shout that quickly got so loud that his voice cracked and gave out completely. And when you thought he was done, he was somehow still cumming, spilling hot and salty down your throat. You swallowed around him, taking everything he had to give you, until he stilled and you let him slip out of your mouth.

You pulled your pants up loosely around your hips and stood in front of him, swiping your knuckles across your glistening bottom lip.

Mando caught his breath and straightened, using the chains to pull himself up. That yank on his arm restraints proved to be the final straw for that solitary remaining bolt. You both whipped your heads up when—with a defeated whine—that piece of durasteel was ripped away, skidded down the wall, and crashed to the floor.

You looked at each other at the same time.

“So... how do you want me first?”

“Unchain me, and I’ll show you.”

***

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Seeking Serenity

summary: Mando, overcome with anxiety in the aftermath of a risky event, needs you to bring him back to reality—and asks for much more along the way.

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x gn!reader

warnings: anxiety attack, angst, hurt/comfort, references to death/violence, fluff

rating: T

word count: 2.953k

main masterlist • din djarin masterlist

Nothing has frightened you more than the sound of a Mandalorian’s voice breaking.

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