A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Mando is a caregiver at heart, but he’s not really used to intimacy or affection in any capacity. He left those things behind a long time ago, his occupation demands the exact opposite—disconnecting, severing his empathy, cutting himself off to soft, sweet things that may tempt him. So he tries showing you in other ways—usually silent, physical displays that reinforce his feelings. He’ll clean you up afterwards, lay next to you and have quiet conversations with you about pretty much anything you feel like talking about. It’s not much, but the more you’re around him, the more you realize how much a simple, verbal interaction with him means. Before you or the kid, Mando would go months at a time without conversing with another person (excluding occupational necessities). Even if you’re talking about absolutely nothing, he’ll always provide some sort of response to you. It could be just as useless, it could be just as pointless and nonsensical as what you say to him, but he always says something back and that’s what’s important.
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Obviously excluding any sort of sexual organ (Mando loves your pussy, he’s never been shy about telling you that), he adores your hair. It’s not really a body part, but it’s a part of you, and there’s just something about running his fingers through it, tucking it behind your ear or brushing it away from your eyes. The last woman whose hair he really remembers touching was his mother’s—when the Mandalorians took him in as a child, the women were all helmeted and covered. Out of the people he’s been with sexually, none of them were really the tactile type, and even if they were, they were Twi’lek or Togruta—no hair, just ultrasensitive lekku he couldn’t hold on to, couldn’t tangle his fingers into and tug. Your hair is feminine and soft, and it always smells like you. If you have it up when he’s undressing you, he’ll take it down as part of the process. And if he wants to kiss you but can’t take his helmet off, he’ll run his fingers through your hair and give it a gentle pull, showing you he cares without compromising the integrity of the Way.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)
Mando cums, like. A lot. Quantity wise, like a fuck ton. His orgasms are always so long and slow, each and every one of them somehow feels like it’s his first one in forever. He’s gone for days at a time for his job, so maybe it’s a combination of all the pent-up stress of leaving you and the baby, the danger he encounters and the euphoric release of coming back to you alive, reveling in the feeling of still being here and not having to guard himself from unexpected peril at every moment. He lets go in every sense of the phrase; hyperspace in the Razor Crest is his safe haven after collecting quarry and Mando doesn’t ever half-ass anything. If he’s tense, he’s as rigid as the beskar he straps to his body. And if he feels good, then he savors it as long as he physically can and his body responds accordingly.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Mando won’t ever tell you this, it’s… it’s too dirty. Wrong. But sometimes, when he’s taking you from behind and looks down at your bare ass smacking up against his hips, something deep inside him wants to reach out and rub one of his thumbs over your asshole, carefully brush along the forbidden skin there and maybe push in just a fraction, just so he can feel how tight and warm you are everywhere. He’ll never do it, he buries the urge deep down and refuses to act on any of those savage impulses, but they’re still there and he thinks about it more than he’ll even admit to himself. If you ever asked him, showed even a modicum of interest in exploring that, Mando is pretty sure he would lose his absolute fucking mind.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
He’s… somewhat experienced. In a way. He doesn’t really like to talk about it, because none of those people ever meant a damn thing to him. They were back in his wild days, where he killed without blinking an eye and made consistently bad decisions so long as they benefited him in some way. He was a different person back then, and he doesn’t even like hearing your name in the same sentence as the people he’s been with. You’re different. He may have experienced some things before, but with you, most of it is new. Kissing, going down on you, anything he does to you with his helmet off is completely uncharted territory for him. Which is part of the reason why he loves it doing it more than anything else.
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)
Some habits admittedly die hard, and Mando has always, and will always prefer to dominate. Doggie, missionary—he wants it his way, always. Not that there isn’t something to be said about the visual of you riding him, grinding down on his cock and throwing your head back in bliss, but he hunts people for a living and there’s just something about your undeniable innocence that revs him right the fuck up, makes him go a little bit crazy in the head. He’s always incredibly slow and deliberate during foreplay, so measured and controlled. When he fucks you, though. He loses himself in everything, gets rougher and faster as he goes. He doesn’t stop, even when you’re writhing under him and screaming as he pounds directly into that one spot, over and over and over. He holds you tight, feeling your legs shake violently around him and listening to you whimper as you cum helplessly and repeatedly on his cock and there is nothing—nothing that will ever compare to that.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
He has a sense of humor, and he’s not immune to your charm. But Mando usually reserves the jokes for other times. It’s… honestly, he can barely even form a fucking sentence when he’s inside you. That doesn’t stop him from spilling endless streams of incoherent filth under his breath as he drills into you obviously, but he’s not present enough in the moment to be clever, much less comedic. He’s too caught up in your warmth and tightness to do anything besides lose himself in you; immediately after the deed is when he’ll be most likely to relax and goof around with you.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
Mando doesn’t really get much opportunity to groom himself, not even his facial hair. It’s not that he’s lazy or unmotivated, he just flat out doesn’t have the time. He’s either working a job or fucking you, there’s not much in between. He showers and has good hygiene habits, and he doesn’t like touching you when he’s dirty or bloody, but… sometimes, you like it. Sometimes you like him wild and frantic for you, the sweat and heat of violence still fresh on his body. You’ll have just enough time to spot the new blaster marks on his armor that weren’t there when he left, see his cape ripped and still dripping blood on the floor as he walks. He doesn’t say a word when you ask him who the blood belongs to, he just whips you around and shoves aside as little clothing as possible before he’s brutally pounding you into the wall, hand moving between your legs and whispering how much he missed you as he rests his helmet on your shoulder.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
His intimacy is a different kind of intimacy. It’s not purposeful, not something he works for. He’s not good with words, so if he ever did try to express how much you mean to him, it would probably come out sounding all wrong. No, his intimacy is… It’s helpless, like he can’t stop himself even if he tried. He doesn’t remember half the things he says when he’s inside you. Not that they’re not true—just the opposite, in fact. He’d probably spill his entire life’s story if you asked him sweetly enough during those last few thrusts, the ones that go hard enough to bruise. He tells you the honest-to-Maker truth when he’s about to cum, and in his own disconnected and stumbling way, that’s the most intimate he’s ever been with another person.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
Before he met you, he absolutely jerked off. Mando has needs, and he’s levelheaded enough to tend to them before they affect his job performance. He’s never paid for pussy in his life and he has a high sex drive, so the only way to take care of it was by himself, shut himself away in his ship somewhere and fuck his bare hand until he found release from the tension of the job and his lack of companionship. But it was never devoted or drawn out—he always had shit to do and he’d work to get himself there as quickly as possible. Which is why his time with you, well. It’s not any slower or softer during the main event, but… he’s repetitive about it, fucks you multiple times a day just because he can never fucking get enough of you.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
He loves it when you wear his armor. For some insane, unknown reason, seeing you don the Mandalorian attire drives him absolutely fucking crazy. Whether you’ve got his helmet on as he buries his tongue inside you, whether you’ve wrapped his cape around your shoulders because you’re cold, it doesn’t fucking matter. There’s just something about seeing his clothes on you that makes him imagine a universe where you were Mandalorian as well, makes him wonder how different his life would be if he knew you before he chose this occupation. He’s never taken his helmet off in front of another person, so you can imagine how seeing his own visor stare up at him while he’s fucking you into the ground gives him a thrill unlike any other.
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)
Mando isn’t picky about location. That’s one thing you learn very quickly about him, he’s perfectly willing to give you his cock almost anywhere. The ship ends up being the main site of your lovemaking just because of its convenience, but he is not picky. He can’t seem to keep his hands off you, doesn’t matter where he is. He’ll take you in public, he’ll fuck you when you’re half asleep in his bed, he’ll give it to you in the middle of the fucking desert if he feels like it. Mando doesn’t care if people see. He’s always lived on the edge, but for him, there’s not even an edge when it comes to things like this. As long as his face and the vast majority of his body is covered, you could strip down naked literally anywhere and he’d give you what you both need.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
You. That sounds like a stupid cop out to the question, but it’s true. Mando has been with other people, but when he thinks about them now, everything inside him shudders. They were dirty, absolutely horrible people compared to you. You’re dirty too, he’s not denying that, but you’re dirty in a different way. You’re downright filthy when he fucks you, but your soul is practically pristine, so unbelievably honest. It’s the main reason he was drawn to you in the first place. It’s so incredibly rare for him; his occupation doesn’t allow for the pure, heartfelt honesty you have. He’s given you a thousand different opportunities to see his face, and not once have you ever taken it. You respect him without objectifying him, are consistently mindful of his beliefs without obsessing over them. He doesn’t think you’ve ever intentionally hurt another person in your life and that’s rare for him, that’s so fucking atypical for someone like him. It’s beautiful. The fact that you even let him touch you is stunning. You’re like this one singular light source that illuminates the darkness of his life, the one evergreen beacon of trust and warmth that he doesn’t deserve.
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He doesn’t share. Just the thought of it makes him see red. He’s so incredibly protective over you; he rues the day anyone ever decides to lay a fucking finger on you without your permission, because then they’re already fucking dead. They’ll have a vibroblade through their chest before they can even blink, and he doesn’t want you to see that. You’re from the outer rim; he knows you’ve seen your fair share of violence before, but your name and bloodshed don’t even belong in the same galaxy with each other, much less the same room. His heart races just thinking about you being put in danger. He won’t ever prevent you from living the life you want to live—he’s not strong enough to say no to you—but he’ll drop dead before he lets another person touch you like he does.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
Now, don’t get him wrong. Mando loves a good blowjob. But when the entire world is separated from his skin by thick layers of fabric and beskar, sometimes things don’t seem as… real. He’s spent decades viewing everything from behind a shield, reading digital displays and only hearing the wind ripple through his cape, never being able to feel it, never tasting it on his tongue. He’s been touched before, of course, but it was always so rushed and impersonal, just about getting off as quick as possible. So when Mando can take his helmet off and spend however long he wants licking your pussy, it’s like a reset button for sensation. The taste of you, the warmth, the softness, your moaning. He gets to feel everything, and it’s better than any fucking spice in the galaxy. You taste like heaven and starlight and water. Life, in its purest form.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
Mando fucks hard. Fucking hard. Foreplay is different—he’ll take his time, patiently manipulate your body until you’re trembling and begging, but his self-discipline is gone the second he slides into you, feels you clamp down hard around his cock and hears you gasp. Sometimes it worries him, how rough he can get with you when he’s like that. He’s unrelenting in his pace, starts hard and just goes fucking harder. He gets you to cum so many times because he doesn’t care about your oversensitivity, he just brutally fucks you through it and right into your next one, groaning low in his throat every single time because he can hear how fucking wet your cunt gets when you cum. This is what he does best. He’s an A-level bounty hunter with the armor to show for it, but this is where he fucking thrives. Deep inside you, making you scream for him.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
He loves quickies. Mando is a busy man and there are times where he just needs to fuck you, and that’s okay. He’ll reach his hand down between your legs and rub your clit, whisper dirty shit in your ear to make you cum before he lets himself do the same. He knows what you like. It’s the same shit he likes hearing, and sometimes his inability to shut up when he’s fucking you actually threatens to bring him to orgasm before you get a chance. He tells you how tight and hot your cunt is, how fucking good you are at taking cock. He tells you how good and long he’s going to lick your pussy later, how much he needs your taste in his mouth. He gets you there spectacularly fast, muffles your cries with his hand and fucks you through your pleading and moaning, whispering quiet filth under his breath until he cums with a ragged gasp.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
He’ll do anything you ask him to. Mando knows he’s gone soft, he’ll admit it. You can just blink your pretty eyes up at him and he caves like rubble, almost always. As much as he likes to think he’s in control, he knows he isn’t. He’ll do anything you ask him to. There are, of course, things that he wants to try, but he somehow thinks they’re beneath you and what you deserve. He wants to… well, he wants to take every single hole you have, but he’ll never say it. He wants to squeeze his hand tight around your throat and control your breathing, he wants to fuck you hard enough that you gush hot and wet all over him, wants you to suck his cock while he pilots the ship and then hold him there in your warm mouth long after he shot his load down your throat, letting him down look at you and play with your hair. Mando wants to try a lot of things with you.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
He… admittedly, he lasts only around ten minutes once he’s inside you. Probably because he doesn’t know the meaning of pacing himself, honestly. Mando fucks you like it’s the end of the galaxy each and every time, pulling your hair and putting his back into it. But, what he lacks in control he more than makes up for in his refractory period. He’s got an incredible sex drive and will reassert that fact several times a day, sometimes one right after the other. He’ll fuck you and cum, and then occasionally keep fucking you until he cums again. He doesn’t ever really struggle with getting you to let go around his cock, and can usually do so at least twice within those ten precious yet chaotic minutes. You’ve never complained.
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
Mando doesn’t like toys, just as much as he doesn’t like droids. It’s life he values, not dead machinery. He wants to feel fucking everything, desperately craves that tactile connection. He owns your pussy, he’s the one that gets to make it cum. He’ll be damned if some lifeless piece of metal is giving you pleasure that he could be giving you. What’s a vibrator when you can feel his hot, soft tongue licking through your folds whenever you want? What’s a dildo when his thick cock pulses with heat inside you?
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
When he has time, Mando is a tease. He doesn’t think so, or if he does, he won’t admit it, but he’ll edge you for fucking hours. He’ll play dumb and pretend like he’s not doing it on purpose, but every time he lets your clit slide out of his mouth right before you’re about to cum, it’s so obvious. His foreplay is on another fucking level—he drags when he’s pleasuring you, goes just slow enough to make you whimper, continuously builds you up but never lets you crest until he decides it’s appropriate. When he’s inside you, though, he’s the exact opposite of a tease. He wants you to cum as many times as possible and does everything he can to make that happen. He wants you to drown in the pleasure, the same way he always does. He wants you to have trouble thinking, breathing, and remembering, the same way he always does. And he does a damn fucking good job at it.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
He’s loud. Most of what he says is downright filth, but sometimes he goes past that point and whispers the truth. How incredibly ironic is it that he keeps so much of himself hidden and yet he starts spewing answers to questions you never even asked when he’s pounding into you? He moans and grunts and growls his satisfaction with you, but it’s his words that all but disintegrate his own armor with his amban rifle. They work to expose himself in ways that have nothing to do with the thick fabric covering every inch of his body.
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
Mando isn’t a talker. Anyone who’s ever met him knows that. To everyone else, he never says more than he needs to, and one of his biggest annoyances in the entire galaxy is being asked to repeat himself. It’s an astronomical waste of his time. But strangely, before he met you, he’d sometimes initiate conversation with the kid, just because he couldn’t talk back and Mando didn’t have to put any real effort into forming the words or thoughts, they just came naturally. With you, he shares conversation because he likes you. He likes listening to you talk. You’re honest. You’re lovely, and you’re softer than anything he’s ever put his dirty hands on. Mando isn’t a talker. But you manage to hit every single one of his buttons without even trying, and apparently that turns him into a rambling monstrosity that can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. It’s phenomenal—the things you’re able to get him to admit when he’s deep inside you. It’s like he tries to make up for a lifetime of silence in a few minutes, stumbling over his words but somehow never running out of them.
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)
He’s packing. Seven or eight inches, fucking thick and gorgeous cock. He dresses left and leans just a bit that way too, and his balls are full and unbelievably soft. He likes that you pay attention to them. When Mando is rearing you go, his cock nearly touches the base of his navel. He also produces quite a bit of precum, which he knows you like. Sometimes you brush your finger over the tip and see how far the clear liquid will stretch until you put it in your mouth. If you suck on his balls for a little while and then come back up, sometimes he’s even dribbling down the underside. He gets hard as steel and has a lovely little vein throbbing next to his frenulum.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
For Mando, sex with you is something entirely different. Fucking just used to be a release for him, and in many ways it still is, but there’s just so much more with you. He’s fucking insatiable to be honest, he’s mostly the initiator just because you don’t have the time to recover before he’s wanting your body again and again and again. He’s mindful of his job and the needs of the kid, but after those things are taken care of, he’s absolutely ruthless with you. He’s addicted to the way you make him feel and while he’s incredibly patient in practically every other aspect of his life, he’s also a determined motherfucker who doesn’t back down from anything. He’ll fuck you all night long and then fuck you again in the morning.
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He doesn’t really… do sleep. Mando rests for a few hours every day. The best he can do is relaxation, it’s something he’s been denied for so many years. You’re much more likely to pass out after sex than he is. Most of the time, he just wants more. As soon as he pulls out, he wants more. But he won’t deny it—the best sleep he ever gets is when you’re next to him, snoring softly and sweetening his dreams.