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#paz vizsla x reader
samantha-rae-velcher · 6 months
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Master List
Master list Pt.2
YouTubers
Jschlatt
King pt.1 - smut
King pt.2 - smut/ fluff
Trust is for the weak - smut/angst
Trust is for the Weak Pt.2 - smut
Class final - smut
Class final Pt.2 - smut
Class final Pt.3 - smut
Dreams - smut
Frozen Treat - smut
Argument - smut
Aphrodite - smut
The Hunt - smut
Pretty Boy - smut
Crush - smut
What we once had - smut
Pipsqueak - smut
Silence - smut
Look at me - smut
Fireworks - fluff
Cuffed - fluff
Prized Possession - fluff
Moodboard - selfies your Bf Schlatt sends you
Moodboard - more selfies your Bf Schlatt sends you
Moodboard - pics you've taken of your bf Schlatt
Imagine - smut
Imagine - smut
Imagine - smut
Imagine - smut
Imagine - smut
Imagine - fluff
Imagine - fluff
Swaggersouls
So pretty - smut
Lights out - smut
The Key - smut
Psychedelic Love - smut
"Happy birthday, sweetheart" - smut
Podcast - fluff
Imagine - smut
Your Narrator
Sick Day - fluff
Wholesome Viking Warrior Pt.1 - smut
Wholesome Viking Warrior Pt.2 - smut
Mully
"Good boy" - smut
Three Way - smut
Lightning - smut
Just a downtown stroll - smut
Break it up - Smut
Pretty little thing - smut
"She's mine" - smut
Sweet submission - smut
Lust - smut
Double the man power (Mully and Narrator) - smut
Cold chill and steam - smut
Point Proven - smut
VR - fluff
Bridge the gap - fluff
"I love my girl" - fluff
Joshdub
Threebee (Josh and Juicy) - smut
Daddy's princess - smut
Tom Hardy
The League (Bane) - fluff
The League Pt.2 (Bane) - fluff/violence
The League Pt.3 (Bane) - smut/fluff
The League Pt.4 (Bane) - fluff
Fearless (Alfie Solomons) - smut
Red (Alfie Solomons) - angst
The club (Reggie Kray) - smut
Star Wars
Past comes to haunt Future to save (Din Djarin) - fluff
Tune up Pt.1 (Paz Vizsla) - smut
Tune up Pt.2 (Paz Vizsla) - smut
Little one Pt.1 (Paz Vizsla) - smut
Little one Pt.2 (Paz Vizsla) - smut
Little one Pt.3 (Paz Vizsla) - fluff
TWD
Two hearted love (Aaron) - fluff
Trust needs to be earned (Aaron) - fluff
"Give me your hand" (Aaron) - fluff/ Violence
One on One (Eugene Porter) - fluff/ Violence
Stranger Things
Fight or flee Pt.1 (Eddie Munson) - fluff
Fight or flee Pt.2 (Eddie Munson) - smut
Fight or flee Pt.3 (Eddie Munson) - fluff
"Don't tell me you're getting mushy"- fluff
Shameless
"Tell your boyfriend I'll kill him" (Mickey Milkovich) - smut
The more you know (Mickey Milkovich) - smut
My wife (Mickey Milkovich) - angst/fluff
Keep off (Mickey and Ian) - fluff/Violence
What I own (Mickey and Ian) - fluff/ Violence
Boyfriend like Girlfriend (Mickey Milkovich) - fluff
The Last Of Us
"I love you, Y/n only you" (Joel Miller) - fluff
The Witcher
Silver and White (Geralt of Rivia) - fluff
DC
Pretty (Joker) - Violence
I promise (Slade Wilson) - angst
General's gaze (General Zod) - smut
NCIS
"Fuck you, Dinozzo" (Tony Dinozzo) - fluff
Boardwalk Empire
Gangsters Paradise Pt.1 (Al Capone) - fluff
Gangsters Paradise Pt.2 (Al Capone) - fluff
Gangsters Paradise Pt.3 (Al Capone) - fluff/Violence
Gangsters Paradise Pt.4 (Al Capone) - fluff/Violence
Gangsters Paradise Pt.5 (Al Capone) - fluff
Mafia Pt.1 (Charlie Luciano) - smut
Vecchio Amico (Charlie Luciano) - fluff
Slashers
"The only monster I see is you" (Thomas Hewitt) - smut
All my stories wouldn't fit on this page, so I had to make a Pt.2
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sprout-fics · 9 months
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Okay wait I need to know. What would Din Djarin/Paz Vizsla/Boba Fett’s reactions to riduur in lingerie be 👀
A Mandalorian being soft and horny for their S/O in lingerie is something that can be so personal
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Boba Fett
Green
It's fucking green, of course
Strappy too, little bands criss-crossing over your curves, hugging your hips, your tits, your thighs
You call to him from your bathroom together in the palace, the one attached to his suite, pausing coquettishly in the doorway as he looks up and stares
He doesn't speak, not at first, but he does blink a few times as a pleased, knowing smile spreads over his lips
"Come closer, little one." He beckons, putting aside the armor he had been tending to, spreading his thighs and inviting you to stand between them
You pace over, feigning shyness, swaying your hips in a canting little walk that has him chuckle before you pause between his legs
His hands cup your ass, and you stand on your toes a little with a gasp, smirking knowingly down at him, hands resting on his shoulders
"and where did you get the funds for this, hmm?" He asks, and snaps one of the bands against your flesh, making you stifle a grinning little yelp
"I...may have borrowed some cash from your account." You tell him cheekily, and Boba raises an eyebrow up at you, his pleased eyes betraying him as he attempts to glower in disapproval
"So it belongs to me, then." He muses, and you do gasp this time when his hands squeeze on your ass, imprinting his fingers there.
"So I shall be the one taking it off."
You don't have time to protest, because he secures his arms around you, topples with you back against silk sheets
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Paz Vizsla
He's dumbfounded
You can tell, even with his helmet on. The way Paz freezes when he sees you without your armor, dressed in floaty, gauzy teal underwear tells you everything to know about the expression on his face
It's quickly pushed aside, however, as he stands, uses three long strides to cross the room to where you stand. Your warrior stalks towards you like you perhaps might duck under his grasp, might try and flee
You don't, of course. There's no way you would. Your Paz is safety, warmth, shelter, a bastion of protection that you lay your affections into ceaselessly.
His hands outstretch to you, take the silky, draped fabric between his gloved fingers and holds it aloft as if to examine it. Entirely foreign, unexpected for a man of his resolve and brutal efficiency. Yet endearingly gentle with you as he asks:
"All this...for me?"
You beam up at him, hearing the touch of tenderness, of want in his voice, shifting on your feet so you splay your bare hand flat against his chest plate
"Just for you, Riduur." You purr, balancing on your toes as you stretch up to bestow a chaste little kiss on his Ka'rta, the iron heart where his soul lays.
When he growls, the sound is warm but possessive, shivering through your exposed skin as his hand drops, curls suggestively against the roundness of your hip.
"I think I like you better out of armor" He rumbles, and your eyes dance as you stare up through his visor.
"I think I like you that way too"
The hand at your hip flexes, drags you closer to him so you're pressed flush against his form
"The come and take it off, Riduur."
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Din Djarin
It hadn't been the color you originally hoped for, but the options in the Nevarro market had been sparse, so you had to make do
You frown in front of the mirror, fingering the white, delicate, lacy material of the chemise. It's too girlish, you think. Too...virginal. Maybe he'll think it looks silly
You yelp when he knocks on the door of the bathroom behind you, surprise ringing out before you can stop it. Worry instantly colors his voice when he calls out for you, and in your rush to reassure him you knock over a clatter of items from the sink
He opens the door before you an stop him, as you lean back and look up at him nervously
Din freezes, halfway inside, one hand still on the door control.
"What-" He tries, voice tight, strained. "What are you wearing?"
He doesn't like it, you think, and your chin falls to your chest
"I thought...I'd surprise you." You tell him lamely, and for a moment he doesn't move, doesn't breathe.
He moves forward at last, crowds you back into the sink, wedges a beskar clad thigh between yours, lifts your chin to his stare
"You look...really nice." Din manages at last, and for some reason your fearsome bounty hunter sounds shy.
"Really?" You mumble, and Din gives you a tight, quick nod as he swallows.
"Can you take it off?" He asks then. "I want to see you."
You shiver at that, at the clear indication in his voice, but retain enough wherewithal to pout at him.
"I literally just got it on." You whine, and something changes in Din's gaze at that, a subtle shift of his head so the lights of the room don't dance across his visor, darkening his stare. His body shifts, presses closer to you, cold radiating from his armor as his voice dips low in your ear.
"Take it off. Or I will."
(tagging @zwiiicnziiix)
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maybege · 2 months
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What If - Masterlist
Summary: Your clan is involved in the reclaiming of Mandalore. To ease the clan dynamics, an age-old tradition is brought back to life and you get assigned to an alpha that fate already has plans for.
Pairing: alpha!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader
Rating: E (18+ only!) | Wordcount: tbd (3 parts)
Tags/Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, canon divergence
You really think a year can pass and I will get over Season 3 Episode 7? Well you thought wrong, babes, because I still have not seen the Season 3 finale and I do not plan on it. Instead let us celebrate April 2024 by rewriting canon in the filthiest way possible.
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Part 1
Part 2 (April 21, 2024)
Part 3 (April 28, 2024)
Part 4 (May 5, 2024)
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gatorbites-imagines · 4 months
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Some paz vizsla x sith male reader?
Paz Vizsla x Sith male reader
Headcanons
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Because of my love for fanfic and the Kotor games, theres a lot of headcanosn in this. I will find a way to involve Revan when I can, so he’s also there, in the background. Theres also a single Revan x Canderous mention.
Theres so much about Kotor in this, it really took a life of its own, so I hope you enjoy.
I missed writing star wars so bad, can yall tell?
First of all, being Sith doesn’t immediately make you evil. It just means you follow a specific religious groups way of teaching and practice their rituals to some extent. This means you use the dark side, and have nothing against harming others to reach a goal.
You aren’t as power hungry as other sith in this time, and you aren’t under Palpatine’s thumb. Far from it actually. The dark side is to some extent fueled by your hate for the empire and anyone involved with it, as you were once a jedi youngling when the purging happened.
You were a padawan at the time, and your master had always been very interested in holocrons and the past. Their most prized possession was the holocron of Darth Revan, or one of his many holocrons that had been left all over the galaxy.
So, after you saw them gunned down by the clonetroopers you thought you could trust, you ran, taking an escape pod to get as far away as possible. It just turns out you had been carrying Revan’s holocron in your bag at the time, and after landing on a smaller less populated planet, you had hidden away in its vast cave system.
You feared going mad for a while, as you were just a padawan, one who had lost everything. You were almost consumed by this anger and rage, so uncontrollable as you cracked at the edges and fell.
Revan’s force presence must have felt this inside the holocron, as he appeared before you, and guided you through it, keeping you from completely shattering your mind and becoming a beast hellbent on revenge.
From then on, Revan became your new master, leading you around the galaxy to find his other holocrons and artifacts as he taught you everything he knew, and to the best of his ability.
He was kinder than any sith you had ever heard of or met, and he taught you a lot about the sith empire and how not all sith had been power hungry madmen, that before the rule of two, they had been more on the stable side, to a certain extent.
He never claimed they were good people, but you didn’t need that, you appreciated his honesty. Along these journeys, you even found holocrons of some of the other sith of his like, like Malak, who was Revans old friend.
Malak hadn’t been happy about you in the beginning, but he had ended up begrudgingly taking some kind of master role to you, almost like a standoffish uncle. But thanks to their training you are able to stay completely hidden from the empire, and live the life you want to live.
You go where the force leads you, which just so happens to be places that Revan and other great sith of made themselves at home in the past. You had almost started cheering and singing when you found what some would call the tomb of Darth Nihilus, much to your masters embarrassment, as Malak looked at Revan with a lifted brow.
Your interest in the past had been something you had picked up from your first master as a padawan, and it stayed. It was something Revan had to accept as his force ghost watched you fanboy over a mummified hand of Darth Sion, or leftover notes left over by Darth Malgus on saber forms.
Your greatest achievement was your helmet. Or rather, your master’s old helmet. Palpatine had pretty much ransacked the jedi temples after culling them all, stealing whatever he wanted, and the jedi had owned Revan’s helmet for many years, locked away far away from prying eyes.
With your master, and uncle-masters help, you were able to sneak in and steal it right back, taking it from right under Palpatine and Vader’s noses. The helmet barely looked like a helmet with how old and worn it was, but the power inside it made it clear. It was Revan’s helmet.
Revan had gifted it to you, almost beaming as you teared up at the trust he seemed to put in you. You were sith alright, and your emotions were what fueled you, and your love for your master and his love for you was the strongest there could be between family.
You were able to create a new helmet, using what was left of Revan’s and other materials, one of those materials being Beskar you stole from the empire. You even painted in similarly to Revan but added some of your own touches.
Little did you know, this helmet is what caught your future lovers attention first. Mandalorians love a strong partner, and those that follow the creed love some good armor, so Paz couldn’t keep his eyes off you when he saw you the first time.
You pretty much just bleed raw power into the air around you, letting it swirl around you like a second armor and letting everyone around know you were a possible threat if crossed. That was the kinda person that had Paz sweating and his blood pumping.
You would meet because you found yourself on the same planet as the covert hes with, hunting down something left by Canderous ordo, some piece of armor, like a pauldron he had left behind for Revan as some kind of marriage declaration.
Its after finding these pauldrons that you meet Paz, and some of the other older members of the covert. Apparently, words of a guy in scary black and red armor skulking around was enough to have them weary.
In the beginning they might think your Mandalorian, from the style of your armor and the new unpainted pauldrons you have added to your armor, making them hesitate, but that moment of hesitation if all you need to launch an attack.
You don’t kill any of them, wouldn’t want too, but by the force do you kick their ass, another thing that has Paz feeling hot under all that armor. He almost wants to drop to his knees to say the marriage vows right then and there when you fling him over your head using one hand, the other reflecting blaster bolts with little difficulty.
What can he say, mandalorians fall hard and they fall fast, blame it on living such dangerous and hard lives. So, when he sees you aren’t actually trying to kill them, Paz hopes there’s a chance you might stick around.
You end up getting away, ignoring the cackling of your master and the glowering of your uncle-master. The tables turn when Malak starts mentioning Ordo and the love declaration through the pauldrons, leaving your master quiet and mumbly as Malak smirks. They are definitely the reason you don’t fear the sith of old as much anymore.
Paz grieves a little as he doesn’t see you again for a while, even though he tries to keep an ear and eye out for you in your black and red armor and that flexibility that has him gripping the wall when he thinks about it too hard.
In the end its Ragnar, Paz’s son, that brings you before them again. He had ended up in some trouble, and the force had almost screamed for you to help him. Listening to the force was what you did, so you helped the helmet wearing kid out.
Ragnar was smart, and had heard his dads dreamy mumblings and the other mandalorians teasing, so he could immediately tell who you were. One way or another, and though it’s extremely against the rules, he gets you to where the covert is hiding.
Paz shows up and starts worrying about Ragnar, cuz he loves his son and doesn’t wanna see him hurt, and when he hears its you who saved him, he starts feeling hot under the armor again.
On the insistence of the force, you stick around the covert. Paz takes the time to go about romancing like mandalorians do, by peacocking and challenging you to spars. He never wins, not even the ones where you don’t use the force.
Its humorous to see that large hulking back being wrestled to the ground by you, or thrown around like he weighs nothing. You can tell how he feels about you, but you fear acting on it, even though Revan keeps bugging you to do so, much to Malaks annoyance.
In the end you two end up getting together like how many mandalorians do or did. During a fight. Things were getting tough, and a couple of your allies had gotten hurt, even Paz was down for the count.
You needed him up and at em though, so you had reached down and pulled him into a keldabe kiss, pressing your helmeted foreheads together and told him if he got out of this alive, you’d let him take you on a date.
That immediately had him standing, even though his leg wanted to buckle from a stab wound. The enemy were taken out in record time.
Your first date goes a little awkwardly, as neither of you actually have any experience dating. You spending all your life as a jedi and then sith, and Paz being part of a pretty hard covert. But you two work it out, and it ends with you sparring and scuffling in the sand, which maybe lead to something more. The helmets stay on the entire time.
No one is surprised when you two start dating, or when you start becoming a permanent fixture in the covert. Sure, they’re weary in the beginning because you are an outsider and because you are sith, but they come to appreciate you.
They really start welcoming you when you can use your dark presence in the force to hide them away from anyone searching for them, or to take out possible threats. You even start teaching some of the force sensitive members. You don’t force them to use the dark side, but you do end up teaching them about the balance between both.
When Din shows up again, he doesn’t fully know what to do with the information that Paz went and got himself hitched, and to a sith of all things, but he sees you well you fit into It all and their creed, and who is he to judge.
You get on well with Ragnar, as he was pretty much the one to bring you to his dad, and the kid grows attached to you. Who else but him can brag about his powerful dark sider warrior dad? That gets him some brownie points from the other foundlings.
When you and Paz marry there is no big ceremony, its just a vow spoken between you and that’s it. You always find yourself cackling at the memory of how jittery he had been to see your face for the first time, now that you were married.
During all this time you hadn’t been against taking your helmet off, but you just hadn’t had a reason too.
Paz spends a lot of time just holding your face in his hands and taking you in, with you doing the same to him. Expect many kisses from then on, every time you are alone. He is really bad at kissing in the beginning, since he has zero experience, but he makes up for it with his enthusiasm and willingness to learn.
Paz is still stoic around others and is a big presence, taking care of the dirty work and keeping people safe. But with you he gets to be soft, he gets to be weaker for once, which only fuels his feelings for you.
He never makes you feel like a monster for using the dark side, and he had marveled and just stared at your glowing yellow eyes for a long time the first time he had seem them, barely believing it was possible for them to look like that, just because of the force.
You are still a sith after all of this, and you still leave now and then to hunt down artificacts and other types of knowledge left by the sith of old, but you don’t feel as much urgency as in the past.
You even bring Paz and Ragnar along for the less dangerous ones, as a family trip. You can’t bring them along for most artifacts though, since you don’t wanna lose them to ancient sith traps or mind tricks.
It’s the stability you’ve needed for many years, and though you are still fueled by passion and emotions, it isn’t the same anger that you had harbored all these years. It was more the love you had for your husband and your son, and the fact that you would tear apart the galaxy for them if they asked.
The feelings are returned from Paz of course, and Ragnar too, as you guys’ care about each other deeply, as any family should. They do get a bit freaked out, even years later, when you tell them about force ghosts and how Revan is always present. Sometimes you say it just to see them subtly looking around, it’s hilarious.
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Saving Ragnar
Paz Vizsla x reader
Mandalorian S3 E4 SPOILERS!
no beta read, we die like the younglings
1566 words, angst with a happy ending, no y/n
Literally just self-indulgence.
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“Mom, are you sure I’m ready to start sparring with the others?”
“Of course you are sweetheart. Why wouldn’t you be?” I respond, brushing some dust off of his brand-new helmet.
“Well… I’m… I haven’t been with the covert as long as the other kids. What if I haven’t trained enough. What if I embarrass you and dad. What if–” I hold up a hand to stop him and pull him into a hug.
“Ragnar, you could never embarrass us. We love you very much and know you have trained more than enough. But failing in a sparring match will teach you things that you will not learn otherwise.” I take his hands and crouch so we are eye to eye, well… visor to visor, “remember what we have taught you and trust yourself.”
“I’ll try.” he sighs. I shake my head.
“Don’t try. Do.” I say softly.
“She’s right.” I hear from the entryway of our little home alcove. I see my husband leaning against the wall. He walks towards us and crouches next to me, putting a hand on Ragnar’s shoulder, “We are so proud of you, and no matter what happens today, we know you will learn from today.”
Ragnar takes a deep breath and nods.
“Come, the others have already begun training,” Paz says, standing up and patting our son on the shoulder. This seems to get the young boy excited, he practically runs out of the alcove.
“He will be fine cyare,” Paz says, putting an arm around my shoulders.
“I know that, but does he?” I sigh.
“Let’s go find out.”
….
A few minutes later, Ragnar has begun his first-ever sparring match.
It begins quite mildly, with a little bit of a scuffle as both children try to gain the upper hand, but Ragnar comes out on top, throwing his opponent in the sand.
Once declared the winner, he looks over to us, watching from a distance. I clang my vambraces together in excitement.  He nods and brings his focus back to the judge. It is then that I notice Din’s little one standing across from Ragnar as if to challenge.
“Is he putting his baby into a match?” Paz asks no one in particular.
“He knows his child best,” I respond, continuing to watch as Din convinces the judge it will be ok.
Ragnar chooses to fight with darts to which Paz remarks, “good choice.”
While waiting for the training darts, Ragnar begins speaking to Din, asking why the child does not wear a helmet, then saying he is too young to fight. Din reminds him of part of the Creed, sounding a little bit passive-aggressive, but whatever, that's just Din.
I sigh when Ragnar speaks, “Well, I know.”
“Well, we know what he will learn today then,” Paz states, a smile in his voice at his son’s sass.
After a moment of Din teaching Grogu how to fire the darts, the match begins.
The first two points go to Ragnar, quite easily, seeing as Grogu looked like he did not know what to do.
After another brief talk from Djarin, the next round begins.
Ragnar fires his dart the same as before, but this time, the small child jumps out of the way and completely over him, then back to his original position, firing all three darts and winning the challenge.
Ragnar looks around, confused, before looking back at us. I nod to him as Paz says, “One doesn’t speak unless one knows.”
Ragnar visibly sighs before walking toward an empty part of the beach to calm down.
“A valuable lesson has been learned today,” the Armorer speaks up, “go make sure he remembers it.”
We both nod and begin walking toward our son, but the flying beast comes flying over the mountain.
My heart stops, this creature has been picking us off for weeks, and it is flying directly toward the easiest target.
My son.
I'm not even sure I'm breathing as I take to the sky, willing my jetpack to go faster and faster, but it is still not enough. The beast is getting further and further ahead, Ragnar still flailing in its talons.
My pack begins to run out of fuel and I feel tears streaming under my helmet. I whisper, “please…no.”
I am forced to land, Paz and Din not far behind.
Even though I can't fly, I can still run, so I do. I don't even think as I hurdle over rocks and bushes, ignoring the burning in my legs and lungs.
I don’t notice my husband and friend running behind me to stop me until they each grab one of my arms.
“No! We have to get him! I can’t lose him!” I scream, fighting to get out of their hold.
“We can’t get him like this, we need to regroup. Look,” Din points, “Bo-katan is following the beast to its nest. When she comes back we will know exactly where it is.” he reasons.
I take a deep breath, following the ship with my eyes.
….
When Bo-katan vets back to the covert she immediately proposes a plan to save the boy.
We leave the covert within the hour and land where we have to start walking.
The sun is setting by the time we reach the peak holding the nest.
We make camp for the night. I help prepare the food, thankful for something to keep my mind off of my son, who will have to spend the night alone and scared in the lair of the beast.
Din explains how meals work in groups like this as the food is distributed.
Bo stands up to find somewhere to eat, but Paz stops her. “You are the leader of the war party. You have the honor of staying by the fire. This is the Way.” he says, taking my hand so we can find a place to eat together.
We eat in silence, having nothing to say in this solemn environment.
Fifteen minutes later, our helmets are back on, and we are back with the group, settling down for the night.
Sleeping on the ground next to my husband is not an unfamiliar experience, but it seems wrong to sleep when my child is not safe at home, surrounded by his family. I stay silent I feel tears reach my eyes.
Paz seems to sense my distress in his sleep as he pulls me closer to him, mumbling nonsense as he dreams.
Eventually, my tears fade and the feelings of fear and sadness in my heart are replaced with resolve, we will get our son back.
I don't know when or how I fell asleep but I am woken by my husband, who is gently shaking my shoulder.
The second I remember where we are and why, I’m up.
We have a short breakfast before re-stating the plan and beginning the climb up the peak.
Reaching the bundle of branches and sticks, I notice the eerie silence within the nest. Once we reach the edge of the nest, Din scans the area, pointing out heat signatures from the left.
Paz takes off immediately, against everyone’s protests, “He’s my son!” he says running in the direction Din pointed, shouting for our son.
He is knocked over by three baby beasts screeching and snapping at him, hungry for food. The mother comes flying up to the nest, alerted by the babies’ noise.
Paz covers himself with parts of the nest, trying to hide from the bird.
The bird begins regurgitating something for the young ones, and I almost lose my grip on the edge of the nest when I see that something is my son.
“Help me!” he calls out when he sees us.
I let out a breath of relief as Paz exclaims “He's alive!”
Paz activates his jetpack, flying toward the creature’s face to get it to drop Ragnar. The beast holds Paz in its mouth and Ragnar in its talons as it takes off, the war party not far behind.
Bo-katan is the first to attempt to grab Ragnar, getting smacked down by a wing in the process.
I am the next one to approach, grabbing Ragnar’s hand and pulling. He didn't budge.
I latch onto the creature’s ankle, pulling out my blade to get it to loosen its grip.
I didn't account for getting scratched off the leg by the other foot, earning deep gashes on my elbow and side.
I cry out as I fall, spinning out of control until I steady myself with my pack, landing on the side of a peak.
Paz is then released from the beast’s jaws as Bo-katan stabs its face. He lands right next to me, groaning in pain.
“Are you alright?” I breathe.
“Yes, you?”
“I’ll live,” I respond, holding a hand to one of the deeper gashes.
We watch as Din lands a successful stab at the creature’s ankle. It drops Ragnar and Din races to stop his fall.
He latches onto Ragnar just as the others take down the beast, flying him over to where we hold on to the rocks.
When they land Paz firmly asks, “are you okay?” Ragnar clambers over to me, clinging to my chest before breathlessly answering, “I’m okay dad.”
“Thank you,” I say to Din over Ragnar’s helmet.
“This is the Way” he replies
“This is the Way” we echo.
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outercrasis · 14 days
Text
Welcome Home
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Pairing: Paz Vizsla x F!Reader (reader is petite, with no other descriptors)
Word Count/Rating: 3.3k / Explicit 18+ only
Notes/Warnings: Western!AU, Paz & Reader are married & both are hot heads/combative (but they love each other v much), size kink, oral sex (m receiving), penetrative sex, v light amount of spanking, more or less make-up sex, I have my own image of what Paz looks like and you all have to deal with it
Summary: Your husband finally comes home after 3 weeks. Surely you're going to welcome him home with open arms?
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You don't turn when the door opens. Not for the familiar chime of his boot spurs, nor for the shuffle of his jacket and hat. You act as though you haven’t heard him – facing the window, focused on the same plate you’ve been washing since you heard the first footstep on the porch.
It's irritating how perfect this moment should be. Golden light streams through the dusty windowpane, bathing the kitchen in warmth. The enticing smell of dinner still lingers in the air. There’s plenty left for Paz. Even after three weeks you found yourself unable to adjust your portions to one.
You can feel his large presence behind you – waiting for you to turn and greet him. He probably expected a big homecoming. Fantasized about you running into his arms, kissing him desperately, crying tears of joy. It's happened before. Unfortunately for him, the Henderson boys ran by ten minutes ago to let you know they saw him riding back into town. Their warning ruined any surprise, not that you would have given him the satisfaction anyway.
Paz crowds behind you, placing his hands on your hips. You hate how quickly you want to melt into his warmth. To fall backwards into his broad chest and let him sweep you off your feet. It’s infuriating what he can do with a single touch.
You manage to find your resolve, slapping at his hands. "Get off me, you brute."
Paz chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in tighter. "Why so full of venom, ner riduur'ika?"
You let go of the plate to push at his arms. It’s futile, but you're unwilling to give up the fight. "You know damn well why. Now get off me."
You struggle further, trying to escape his vice-like grip. It's all for nothing. Paz spins you around to face him, an arm still firmly around your middle. Even through layers of clothes, you can feel the shift of his muscles.
Upon seeing his face, you gasp. Some is as you expected it. That annoying self-sure grin, the healthy start of a beard, the playful shine in his bright eyes. Some is not. There’s a new, healthy scar forming along his cheek to match some old ones from long ago.
"What did you do?" you demand.
"Now why do you automatically assume I did something to cause this?" 
"Because that's always the case. I'll bet Din doesn’t have a single scratch on him."
"Thanks to me he doesn't." He says it with a strong hint of pride and that only sets you off more. 
You push and shove at Paz, but he's still unwilling to let you go. In a further act of humiliation, he picks you up with ease and sets you on the counter. You're directly face to face like this. Nowhere for either of you to hide.
"Darlin’, would you please tell me what's gotten into you?" Paz asks. His voice is gentle. You know he's trying to calm you and you hate that it's even slightly working.
"You." 
Paz laughs. "That can be arranged if that's what you're mad about." You try and fail to kick him.
His hand wraps around your calf, a harder look settling into his eyes. It would scare you if you didn't know him so well. Hell would sooner freeze over before he did so much as pluck a hair from your head.
"I didn't come home to be name-called and kicked, so you're going to tell me what's the matter or I'm not letting you leave this counter. That clear?" 
You resent the heat you can feel pooling low in your stomach at his command. Even worse is that he knows it too. All your buttons have long since been discovered and Paz knows just how to press every one. 
There's no getting out of this. Paz stares at you expectantly, willing to wait this out. The anxious soup churning in your stomach rolls and the fire burning in your veins dies only a little at the realization of there being no escape. He has you pinned.
You're not ready yet to talk. Instead, you reach out towards his face, inspecting the new cut that mars it.
You're happy to note it's clean despite the thin layer of dirt and grit that otherwise clings to the fine lines of Paz’s face. It doesn't seem as deep as his other scars and may even fade in due time. All in all, it's not as bad as it could have been. That doesn't make it any better.
You hate this feeling in your gut. The knowledge that your husband lives a dangerous life. Today it's a small cut, tomorrow it's his guts spilling on the cold, hard ground and becoming food for vultures. Paz doesn't know the terror that seizes you when Din crests a hill before he catches up. The thought every time that this is the time he doesn’t come home.
Your voice is small, half mumbling. "You promised."
Paz leans in towards you. "What was that?" he asks, voice still this side of mean.
You take a deep breath, resteeling yourself. "You promised."
Hot tears well at your lashline unbidden. Paz's face becomes wobbly, but you can see the confusion and concern written across it. The anger deep within your chest is reignited. It’s worsened when a tear finally falls and Paz gingerly wipes it from your cheek.
"You said you would talk to me before you took another job."
"I said I would try to."
You punch him hard in the shoulder. It doesn't hurt him in the slightest, but it's satisfying all the same. "Don't play word games. You promised me. You said you would and the next thing I know you're off with Din again."
"I left a note," Paz says, his chest puffing slightly. 
"And what a note it was," you spit back. "Gone on a bounty hunt. Be back soon. You'd think you went out to the saloon for the night with all the information you shared."
"I'm getting tired of going over this with you."
"That's why I asked you to talk to me before you leave,” you shout. 
Paz leans down to get directly in your face. The gray of his irises darken, like clouds before a thunderstorm. “You want to watch that tone, little miss?”
“I'll watch my tone as soon as you stop being an asshole. Oh wait, that'll never happen.” You try to push him away only for his arms to circle around you, pulling you flush against his body. 
Your legs are spread wide to accommodate his frame. You swallow a moan as your center is pressed against the bulge in Paz's trousers. Refusing to allow your baser urges to control you, you feign disgust instead. “You're a pig.”
Paz pulls you impossibly closer. One of his hands finds its way to the base of your skull, effectively scruffing you like a cat. “You had better find your manners real quick or I'm going to find them for you,” he grits out.
“Good luck.”
His lips are rough on yours. The kiss is more a clash of teeth and tongue than anything romantic. You detest the way your body easily betrays you and yields to his advances, but it has been a long three weeks without your husband. And there's no need for you to make things easy on him either.
You hook both your legs around his and pull them tight. He can't get any closer, but you still feel the way the pressure makes him stutter. You mimic his hand, pushing your fingers into his toffee colored locks, and pull him into you. He moans but then moves back from your embrace.
“Clearly this isn't teaching you any manners. I'm going to have to do a better job.”
Without any warning, Paz then lifts you up in a fireman's carry and hauls you off to the bedroom. You shout and pointlessly drum on his back to put you down. He responds with a smack to you ass that you can feel through your skirts.
Paz drops you onto the bed without ceremony and quickly positions himself over you. His large frame fills your vision entirely. The fabric of his shirt is pulled tight against his muscles, providing you with a delightful show, and you notice the obvious flush running down his neck. 
“Now I'm going to give you one more chance here, darlin’. You get yourself undressed right now and with no fuss, or I'm going to tear that pretty dress right off you.”
A rush of desire courses through you. As tempting as that sounds, this is one of your newer outfits and you'd rather not spend tomorrow trying to mend it back together. 
You shamelessly start to undress. Paz's gaze is heavy and eager. He looks exceedingly pleased with himself, convinced that you've decided to show him some manners. Poor cowboy doesn't know what you have planned.
Paz removes his vest and shirt, pulling back from his position over you. It provides the perfect opportunity. As he leans back over your now bare form, you quickly kick your feet up and plant them firmly on his chest. Despite Paz's size, your legs are powerful enough to keep him at bay.
His eyes widen in surprise for a moment before clouding over again. “Just what do you think you're doing, mesh'la?”
Your smile is wicked. “Nothing, riduur.”
You trail one of your hands along your body – Paz's eyes tracking them like a bounty that's close to getting away. You can feel the rumble in his chest as you slowly wind downwards.
“Don't you dare,” he warns as your intentions become clear.
You disregard him entirely and continue your path, not stopping until you've sunk a finger into yourself. The noise Paz makes is choked. Your pleasure doesn't last very long.
After only a few strokes, Paz makes his move. He backs away from your legs, quickly catching one under his arm and tearing your hand away from yourself. You would think the way his chest heaves is purely due to anger if it weren't for the obvious tent at the front of his jeans.
His large hand cups and covers your sex. You wait with bated breath to see what he'll do next. “Looks like I've got my work cut out for me,” he says and plunges one of his thick fingers into you.
Another day and you'd be embarrassed by how wet you've gotten. It's an afterthought at the moment. One of his fingers feels better than any and all of your attempts to feel full while he was gone. The noise he pulls from you is wanton and needy. 
“This what you need?” Paz asks. “Something to fill that little pussy of yours? Will that stop making you act like a goddamn brat?”
As good as you feel, your anger hasn't been snubbed out. “You think that's filling me?”
You watch as that comment makes something bigger within him snap. It makes your heart race with anticipation. In a flash, Paz has taken a seat on the edge of the bed and stretched your body over his knees. You hardly recall the feeling of his grip around your ankles.
His hands are greedy – touching and grabbing at every inch of your flesh. Just as you're about to make another comment, his hand comes down hard on your ass. You jump, hissing at the sting.
“Is this what happens when I'm gone for too long?” Paz asks. His hand cracks over your ass again. “You forget your manners?” 
You anticipate another sharp smack, but he surprises you with a soothing touch. His hand then glides over your curves and he presses two fingers into your pussy. The slight burn of the stretch is perfect. “Forget who this cunt belongs to?”
There's nothing gentle about the pace he sets. It's punishing, making your arousal drip down your thighs. He adjusts his fingers to find your clit, nearly overwhelming you completely. There's nothing you can do in this position but take it.
Your orgasm inches ever closer. Paz’s fingers glide over that spot you can never seem to find yourself, making you clench around him. His demeaning tsk glides past your ears. He changes his rhythm slightly and just as you're about to make that final leap he stops – going so far as to remove his hand from you entirely.
You whip your head around to glare at him over your shoulder. The look on Paz's face makes you finally understand Din when he calls it punchable. “Only good girls get to cum,” he says, punctuating his words with another light spank. You could really kill him now. Unluckily for him, you are capable of much worse.
You're not blind when it comes to your husband. You know his virtues just as well as his faults and although it has improved, his pride is still easy to take advantage of.
“Do you want to be good for me, mesh'la?” Paz asks. It's sweet that he thinks he has the upper hand.
You don't answer. Instead, you crawl off his lap and move to take off his trousers. Paz thinks this is a good sign. He really ought to know better. Maybe three weeks away made him forget who he belongs to.
His position on the bed is perfect for you. The self-sure grin tells you he doesn't suspect a thing. It's easy to further distract him by trailing gentle kisses along his body. You're relieved to see no further injuries he may have been stupidly trying to hide. It wouldn't be the first time.
You smile as Paz's eyes slip closed. He's so predictable.
Rather than settling yourself between his legs or on his lap, you turn around. He doesn't even catch on until you have his wrists pinned with your feet. You wrap your lips around his cock, humming as you hear Paz growl with frustration. In this position he's only able to look – not touch.
The pace you set is just as unrelenting as the one he used on you. He can do little more than moan as you overwhelm him with pleasure. 
Although there's no way to know for certain, you know Paz can't take his eyes off of you. Even if he wants to, the temptation is too strong for his eyes to close. You're so tantalizingly close, so fully on display, that he's powerless. It's not long before his bravado crumbles.
“Dar- darlin’ please. You've made your point, just, ah, let me touch you.”
You don't give into him just yet. As sweet as he sounds when he begs, you aren't satisfied yet. His hips jolt as you redouble your efforts. You missed the weight of him on your tongue and the ache in your jaw. 
“Please,” Paz continues to beg. “I can see the way you're clenching, let me take care of that for you.”
You can feel your wetness dripping down your leg at this point. Paz tenses beneath you, his breath hitching. You're finally able to take your revenge. 
You pull off of him, only leaving your hand to lightly squeeze at his base. You even sit up slightly, hiding yourself from his view. You sacrifice your pin, but it's worth it with your objective already achieved.
Paz wastes no time. You're flipped onto your back, his large frame once again filling your vision. “Are you going to be a good boy for me?” you ask, throwing his words back at him.
Thankfully he looks more amused than annoyed. “Can't help yourself can you?”
You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to you. “Just shut up and fuck me already.”
His lips muffle your moans as he pushes into you. He groans back in response, relishing the way you open up to him. Despite his size there's no resistance. Neither of you will last long like this.
Words are beyond you both. Your nails dig into the meat of his shoulder – the other hand tangled into his hair. Paz holds you steady with one of his big hands on your hips. He trails hot kisses down your neck and onto your chest, no doubt making bruises rise. Normally you'd care more about making him stop. You do have an appearance to uphold in town.
Pleasure overwhelms you, your face twisting with it. There's no time or point in giving him warning. Paz lets himself go as you do, your peaks combining into one.
You miss his weight as soon as he rolls off. He lays back onto the pillows and you're quick to follow, using his chest as yours.
It's quiet as you both come down from your highs. There's a tension that still lingers in the air.
You trace idle loops above his heart, taking note of a few more grays making themselves known in his smattering of chest hair. You're unwilling to burst this small bubble just yet. Paz does it for you.
“Care to tell me what had you all worked up?” he asks. “I'm smart enough to know it wasn't just this.”
“What makes you think this had anything to do with it?” you challenge. 
Paz squares you with a truly incredulous look. “I'm not that stupid, neither.”
You sigh. He could have at least given you both a moment longer in the afterglow. “I already told you in the kitchen. You said you'd talk to me before you left again.”
He scrubs a beleaguered hand over the uninjured half of his face. “S'not like I really had the time, darling. We have to move fast when a trail gets picked up or we'll lose ‘em. Either to distance or other hunters.”
“I am not asking for much, Paz. A bit more of a warning. A kiss before you saddle up and ride out. Nothing more.”
You wish you could ask for more. Ask him to never take another job – to never leave you again. To hang up his holster and spurs to live out a nice, quiet life with you until you're old and gray. You can't though.
Asking for him to change would be asking for a different man. All you can do is sit by, pray to any higher power that might exist, and hope that he'll come home to you. A moment's more time with him before he leaves again doesn't feel like too big a request. It's not too much change.
Paz still looks frustrated. He pulls you off of his side and onto his body so that you're on top of him. His hand reaches up, thumb brushing over your cheek. You do the same, but make your best attempt to smooth away his worry lines.
“I can't have you asking me to stay,” he finally says.
“What?” You don't understand what he means.
“If I agree- if I tell you when and where I'm headed, you can't ask me to stay.”
“Paz, I don't-”
“If you ask me to stay, I won't go and I can't have that. Din can't have that. He needs a partner to make sure he'll come home to his boy and I'm the only one dumb enough to join him every time. So I can't have you asking me to stay.”
Your anger finally dissipates as his words sink in. He's still not completely forgiven, which you'll be sure to let him know, but you can allow yourself to soften. There's a look in his eyes you've never seen before. It's almost fearful.
“I won't ask you that,” you promise. “I just need you to share a little more with me.”
You run your fingers through his hair, noting that the curly ends are starting to become just a bit too long. Maybe you'll convince him to sit down for a trim tonight before he takes matters into his own hands and shaves it all clean off.
“Thank you, riduur.” Paz smiles. “Now, can I get my proper welcome home?”
You scoff and swat at his chest, this time far more playful than before. “There's some dinner on the stove for you,” you tell him, pointing to the kitchen.
Paz grins, wide and sharklike. “I've already got my meal here.” 
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A/N: Yeah I'm aware this being a Western AU wasn't a major component here but that's why this is my fic so ya know, I can do what I want
56 notes · View notes
whiskeynwriting · 11 months
Text
Cabur
Paz Vizsla x Female reader
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)
Dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, breeding kink, lactation kink, tiny daddy kink (I mean c’mon it’s me), oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, pregnancy, allusions to exhibitionism, cum play, tattoos, hickies, established relationship, marriage, brief mention(s) of reader’s hair but no description, fluffiesssss because he’s my big blue teddy bear
A/N: pov - you have Paz’s first child
As always there’s tons of Mando’a with the translations right beside where it’s used because I’m obsessed with it.
Paz Vizsla Masterlist
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His lack of empathy is surprising, to an extent. But it’s not for lack of love, rather, a surplus of his senses. Focusing solely on this one goal, he holds you, grabs you, his motions rough and unforgiving. Every grab is possessive, his movements the product of his body’s full exertion. Your own feels raw, wet and used, but it’s everything you’ve ever wanted from him. He’s overwhelmed, and so are you.
“I’m going to take this body,” He grunts lowly, heavy breaths forced out of his nose. “Breed it and make it mine.”
“Paz,” Gasping, you reach for the blankets, searching for their grip in the darkness. 
It’s dim in your shared room, so far beneath Nevarro’s outer crust. Your surroundings are nearly black, but not entirely. He still wanted to see you, and you him. But the dimness has a purpose, serving to keep his facial features hidden from you. 
Repeatedly, you’re shoved into the mattress, feeling Paz absolutely ravage you. Both of those strong, calloused hands are centered on your hips, fingertips digging into the skin. His pelvis slaps against your backside with each deep plunge, your warrior’s chest heaving with passion. 
“Shh… cyar’ika, it’s okay.” He coos to you in that deep, desire filled voice. He’s quieting your cries, your pleading whines. “You can take it.” (Sweetheart) 
And then he’s pulling you up, linking one strong arm around your naked torso to pull you flush against him. Here, he stills, nuzzled his nose into your neck, and then your cheek. Still pressed entirely inside of you, he groans, twitching against your walls. 
Whispering gruffly into your ear, your soon-to-be tells you, “This is how it’s going to be… and this is what you wanted, isn’t it?” And you suppose he’s right, you couldn’t have expected anything less after you’d vehemently told him yes. “Now lay back down for me, lay beneath me…” Paz finishes, not allowing you a chance to speak. He knows you’re too dumb right now to do so, anyway. 
But outside of your bedroom endeavors, he didn’t consider you to be that way. Although, he did at first glance. Your introduction was… strange. Strange and uncommon. You’d been hiking the lava flats on Nevarro’s surface, finding and climbing the rare rock formations. And during an outdoor excursion, a group of Mandalorians stumbled across you, Paz being one of them. They’d claimed to be on a hunt, and immediately declared you foolish. What idiot would climb the crumbling lava flats? But as he sat back and watched, he saw how capable you were. He saw how expertly you navigated the terrain, the strength you had in your arms and legs, and the wherewithal to notice the Mandalorians without losing your grip. Coming down from the small mountains, you took a step back, stumbling into Paz’s chest. And before you could even utter a small hello, he was speaking - how did you do that?
It was then that you’d hooked him, you had his attention, his interest. And the more he discovered about you, the more impressed he became. Which genuinely shocked him, considering you show your face. 
“Gorgeous girl,” Paz huffs out above your body, “My gorgeous girl.” 
Maybe Paz could get over the fact that you didn’t follow the creed; he’s learned to respect your decision to show your face. But on the opposite end of that, that meant everyone else got to see you, too. And all those turning heads, it just didn’t sit well with him. It was something he couldn’t tolerate. Especially when those stolen glances often came from his own brothers. 
“Mine,” He seethes, dominant hand lifting in the air only to land firmly on your ass and fist it in his palm. “Mine.”
From the moment he brought you into the covert, every helmet turned your way, and their eyes haven’t left since. The excessive attention sharpened his senses, his possessiveness growing with every second. He never let anyone influence you, physically, emotionally, he made sure nothing could touch you. You’ve given his life so much more purpose, even more so than following the creed. You’ve promised him a legacy. 
And then, he asks you something that makes your heart pound, feeling him duck down to be even closer to your body. With his broad chest pressed into your back, he groans, whispering, “Do you like knowing my helmet is off?” 
The mere thought of his naked face made you quiver. He’s handsome, handsome in a way that would just kill you and you’ve never been more certain about anything.
“Like knowing how close my face is?” He continues, holding onto you tight. “How close my bare skin is to you?”
Paz’s voice is low as he says it, hot breath fanning over your ear. And it makes his own heart pound, being this vulnerable with you. He’s never been this vulnerable in his entire life, not with anyone, not even in private.
This purpose, his proposal, was made in private, with only the Armorer in attendance. He’d asked for her blessing first, as was custom. She was also to witness it. And while this was all perfectly intimate in every way, now, he didn’t want anything to be private. 
If he could, he’d fuck you in the gathering hall, for each and every Mandalorian to see. He’d take you in public, for anyone to see. As far as he's concerned, there’s nothing stopping him from pulling you aside in the market and claiming you in an alley. But most importantly, he wanted the covert to know. He was claiming you, mind, body, and soul. You were to be one for the rest of your lives, for eternity, and he didn’t want a single member of his tribe to be unaware of that.
“Yes,” You finally breathe out desperately, your voice cracking. “Maker, yes - yes Paz.” Even imagining your soon-to-be’s face feels wrong, sinful, but you can’t help it. Especially when he’s so close. Turning your head, you nuzzle gently into him, feeling the scruff on his cheek. But even this sweet gesture doesn’t distract him from his duty to you, to his house. 
“Paz, you - you’re,” Gasping, you cry out for him, eyes pinching shut. “Baby, you’re deep.” 
Sliding one hand around to your lower pelvis, he grunts, thick fingers finding your throbbing bundle of nerves. He only presses on it, and it’s enough for you to jolt back against him, shoving your hips into his body.
“Now I’m deeper.” He growls smugly, left hand still cemented to your hip. But he’s not as deep as he could be. 
Paz’s absolute favorite thing is bending you in half, making you even smaller than you already are to him. And now that he’s close to your body, he pulls out, massive hands gravitating to your hips as he yanks you around.
Plopping down onto your back, you sigh, a blissfully dumb smile on your face as he parts your thighs, sliding right back inside. It’s easy, your entrance slick and sore from him but ready, ready to be bred by him. And with your legs splayed open around his waist, he groans, thick fingers unforgiving on the thin skin of your hips. But then he’s reaching down, palms finding the bottoms of your thighs and shoving them toward your chest. Your knees flex up toward your breasts, thighs laying over your stomach and chest as he bends you in half. 
“Feel it deep?” And Maker, you could get lost in his voice. You have before - you are right now.
With heavy breaths, he releases one hand from your leg, using it to press into your lower stomach. He does so harshly, deeply, listening to your quiet yet pleasurable unff. He can feel himself, feel his tip prodding against the calloused skin of his hand. 
“That’s right where I need to be.”
Lifting your legs onto his shoulders, he presses his entire weight down into you. It forces you into a mating press, feeling him drive directly into your cunt, into the deepest parts of you that he can reach. 
Regardless of Paz’s pure strength, his brute force and mountainous size, you still yearned for him. Yearned for him in ways that could only be described as a sense of emotional aching. He’s breathing heavily above you, this mountain of a man, and it hurts your soul that you still cannot see him. But every inch of you can feel him, and for now, that makes up for it. And with this bulk of a man surrounding you, protecting you, you don’t think you’ve ever felt safer in your entire life. It’s clear to you, just as it always has been, that your place is here, beneath him.
But while you’ve never seen his face, and likely never will, he’s let you see every other inch of his body. He’s kept himself pure in that way and you’ve never pressured him to do otherwise. Never even asked for his name until he gave it to you, when he finally brought you home. And you’ve adored his body since the first night you saw him, his thick and bulging muscles, the tattoos covering so much of his skin. All over his chest, his sides, his thighs. His entire back is covered in them, his arms decorated with complete sleeves of intricate design. It made you shiver, seeing your warrior covered in this, in the stories of his past and his ancestors achievements. When he’s older, you're sure he’ll be included in the Mandalorian’s design. He’s everything a warrior should be, everything a father should be.
“Mesh’la,” He’s suddenly moaning out, head tilting down. “Mesh’la dala.” And then he’s leaning further in, kissing your ear while he declares, “A mesh’la buir.” (Beautiful, beautiful woman. A beautiful mother)
No one has ever stolen him in this way, his body and mind entranced by you. It’s taken everything in him to respect his creed, the thing he loves more than life itself, to not show you his face. And he has to remind himself that he should love it more than you, but he isn’t so sure anymore. 
The way Paz fucks you is sweet but raw, pure sexual instinct filling every ounce of his being. And while he’s fucking himself into you, he starts rambling, going on about your body, how well you take him, how well you’ve always taken him. 
“You will look angelic with my baby inside you.”
Leaning further into your body, his mouth finds your breasts, his lips warm and wet. They drag over your smooth skin, lips briefly sucking a nipple in. 
“And when these fill, mm…” Groaning, he lifts himself, biting into the space between your shoulder and neck. “Fill to the brim with sweet milk… so round and swollen… I will relieve them for you.” His promise makes you pulse around him, lips parting from your wanton moans. “I will suck on them when they are ripe and round in my hands, nourishing my ade into warriors.” (Children)
“Paz,” Gasping, you reach for him, clinging to the broadness of his shoulders. “Baby.”
Briefly, he mouths at them, worshiping their curves with his tongue and lips. He loved to lick them, suck on them as if they were already spilling with milk. His favorite thing was to fondle your chest, your beautifully soft and enticing curves. They drive him mad.
And between his filthy words he also promises himself to you. He promises to devote himself to you, telling you how in love he is with you, how badly he wants to become one with you, how badly he wants to breed you. He’ll stay by your side for the rest of his life, and whatever comes after it. He’ll watch you carry his children, raising them to be warriors alongside him, as many as you can make. He tells you that you’ll be a blessing to his family, to his clan. You already are.
“Alright, little one, my precious thing… daddy’s - ngh, daddy’s gonna cum, gonna fill you up…”
“Daddy…”
Forcing himself inside, an enormous breath leaves his chest, his girth throbbing against your walls and stuffed in to the hilt. You can feel the muscles in his abdomen twitch and curl as he presses himself against you, body weight crushing you comfortably. Sharp jerks perform from his pelvis, his biceps and forearms shaking as he groans. And you can feel it, the warm flood of his seed inside you, the thickness of it clinging to your inner walls and calling for home.
“Cyare,” Comes your lover’s deep, deep voice. “Ner cyare.” (Beloved, my beloved)
Leaning further in, he nuzzles you, rubbing his nose over your cheek affectionately. But you want more, and so you reach out for him. Grabbing onto those scruffy cheeks, you bring him in, finding those lips once again. 
“Ner riduur,” It comes out with a small cry, an emotional breath. (My husband)
“Soon.” Paz promises with another sweet kiss to your lips. 
And before you can say anything more, he’s pulling out with a groan and sliding down your body. Glancing down, you’re hoping to see him. But all you’re met with is darkness. Though, you already know what’s there, the sight of his glorious body. Thick and bulging muscles slick with sweat, shaft still half-hard and ready for you again. Paz’s girth was thick, veiny, and was always shiny with you after spending time in bed. 
“Baby…”
It’s not even a true thought, just something he does instinctually. Two fingers slide into his own mouth before moving through the mess he’s made of you, scooping any remnants up before plugging them between your legs. He wants to keep everything inside, but he also wants to make you cum. Sex with Paz wasn’t just about him, he always wanted to remind you of that. 
A low hum shivers through your entire being as he opens his mouth, tongue rolling forward to flick your clit. With his fingers stuffed inside, he curls them, warm mouth enveloping your pleasure center as he does it.
“Paz,” With your hands moving down, you quickly find his hair - it’s wavy, full of thin curls that make you grin. Absentmindedly, you wonder what color they are. You often daydream about him. Though, it’s hard to think about anything when he’s sucking on your clit.
He pleasures it, swirling his tongue around your most sensitive space until your juices begin to mix. Paz appreciates your hums, your girlish noises. Oh, how they come out so nice, pretty melodies swimming through the air. They give him clues, along with your fidgeting hips, to how close you are, how badly you’re wavering just on the precipice. And he knows how to coax you into that sea of bliss, with whatever part of himself he wishes. 
“B-Baby,” You’re stuttering, head falling back as your eyes close. And then he groans, feeling your nails dig into his hair. “Ner cyare, ner cabur…” (My love, my protector)
It’s almost like you’re working him, instead of the other way around. Because as soon as you utter those words, he’s hard again, mouth moving to devour you.
“Perfect,” He grunts, his entire body lighting up right alongside you.
His broad palm squeezes your thigh, massaging the meat of it while the fingers of his right hand keep his seed inside you. And while he’s focusing on handling you, you cling to him, grabbing onto his hair, his broad shoulders, anything you can. Your pelvis thrusts up against him, his moans muffled by it. 
It shivers through you, the entire sensation of it. Your insides hug the thick fingers penetrating you, your hips seeking more of his wet mouth’s touch. It’s almost as if your insides turn to jelly, your muscles giving out as he grabs onto your legs. And as you gradually begin to come down, the motions of your body slowing to a gentle roll, he finally detaches himself. 
“Cyar’ika,” A wet gasp is punctuated by the smack of his lips as he lifts himself from your center, crawling back over your body again. (Sweetheart)
Before his mouth returns to your lips, he lowers to your stomach. Paz’s scruffy chin and soft lips find the skin of your belly, placing gentle kisses. Both of those strong hands cup it, too, rubbing the area just above your pelvis. 
“Gedet’ye.” He whispers, eyes closing. Slowly, gently, he places his forehead against your belly, a sweet kiss to the child soon to be there. (Please)
And then he’s returning to you, that loving mouth finding your own with the wetness of your cunt smearing across your chin. Fervently, he kisses your face, all over it, every inch he can reach. And then his mouth is lifting to your temple, rubbing over your soft hair. But while Paz’s soft side is beginning to show, your more ravenous attributes are still out to play.
Continuing to miss the sight of your soon-to-be’s glorious body, you duck your head down, leaning forward to connect your lips to his skin. His thick pectorals are what you’re first met with, placing a sloppy kiss before biting in. And it makes him groan, his head dropping down. He wishes he could see you, too; you’ve always been the prettiest sight. But the two of you knew that when in bed, you had two choices. Helmet off, and in complete darkness, or, helmet on, with your bodies on display. And tonight, you both wanted kisses. 
“Dush dala…” Your lover grumbles, reveling in the feeling of your love bites. But his words are enticing, they betray him. (Bad girl…) 
Lifting your hand, you squeeze the muscles of his chest, sliding around to his bicep. And with his positioning, he’s still between your legs, his wet shaft sliding along your inner leg as he releases a deep, rumbling sigh. And you wonder if he’s hard again. You wouldn’t exactly mind it. 
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“Have you practiced?”
“She has.” Paz answers before you even can. And it’s not out of a feeling of ownership or anything linked to misogyny. It’s because of his excitement. And you smile when she looks to you, wanting to confirm this.
“I have.” With a small nod, you keep your grin.
And it’s true, you’ve been practicing your Mando’a for years. You’re quite confident in your skills; even in front of the armorer, you have no sense of worry or fear. This is where you belong. Even if you cannot take the creed yourself, you are welcomed here. From now on, you’ll always be here with him. 
“And you wish for this trinket to be embedded with your words?” 
“I do.” Paz nods, handing the small piece to her. 
He never liked for you to go above ground, not without him, anyway. And so, he liked to bring you small gifts. Paz would be nothing if he weren’t as protective as he was doting. Nearly every day, he’d return with a present of some kind, flowers, beautiful stones, new books to read or songs to sing. His most recent gift was this ring. 
She chuckles. “I do not need it, not again.”
“Oh,” He sighs beneath his breath, looking down at the ring. “Right.”
It’s funny, you think. Funny and cute, just how nervous he is. She forged the ring, of course she doesn’t need to see it again. Made with the most sacred material, beskar. The closest you’ll ever come to taking the creed. Though, it isn’t plain; the precious steel has been painted a dark blue. And sitting atop it, a stone of aquamarine. Light and dark blue hues to match the House you will soon belong to.
With a small giggle, you reach forward, placing your tiny hand in his. “Cyare,” (Beloved)
And this seems to shake him out of that anxious state, his head immediately lifting to look at you. You, of all things, of all beings, that belongs to him, was made for him. He’s sure of it.
“Cyare.” He whispers gently in return, fingers curling around your hand. (Beloved)
“Are you ready to take your vows?” She then asks, turning her head toward you as she adds, “Are you ready to join with House Vizsla?” 
“Yes.” Is your immediate answer, looking directly into her visor with confidence and pride. 
“Are you ready to welcome this woman into your clan?”
“Yes.” And you swear you’ve never heard him speak so softly, so genuinely. Already, his voice has such sentiment behind it. 
Before this day, you discussed how your ceremony would go, since it had the slightly altered addition of your ring. And you decided together that it would go on first, with your vows to follow. So, that’s exactly what he does. 
Sliding it onto your left ring finger, Paz takes a breath, both hands quick to hold yours soon after. And then he nods, looking into your eyes. Together, you verbalize your vows, your promises, your intent. 
“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde.” (We are one together, we are one when parted, we share all, we will raise warriors)
With a wavering inhale, you release your emotions, taking your hands away from his and lifting them to the back of his neck. Paz’s strong palms find the small of your back, bringing you in just as you do the same to him. 
“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.” Comes your hushed voice, eyes pressing shut as his forehead meets your own. (I love you)
He brings himself down to you, arms fully wrapping around your midsection as he gives you this gentle keldabe kiss. Quietly, he returns your loving words with just as much sentiment, his own voice faltering a bit. You can feel the firm squeeze of his hug, can hear the small, disbelieved chuckle he emits. 
“Thank you.” Suddenly turning your head, you give a firm nod to her, tears of joy springing in your eyes. She could have refused, had she deemed it appropriate to do.
“Thank you,” She responds, stepping forward. And now, Paz looks at her, too. “For aiding in the continuation of our most precious House.” 
Easily, naturally, his gaze returns to you, one warm palm reaching out to cup your face. “Riduur.” He nearly purrs, thumb stroking you lovingly. (Wife)
While meeting that familiar visor, the armorer speaks once again. As you gaze into the other’s eyes, she informs you of your results. 
“They have been delivered.” 
“Let us go.” He whispers to you, free hand reaching for your hip.
Nodding, you sigh, an eager smile forming on your lips. “Yes.” 
On the way back to your small, underground home, you’re greeted by many congratulatory cues. Proud nods, hands shaken and laid on shoulders as you pass. Vambraces clang together as you walk through the halls, echoing the sound of respect and admiration, and Paz couldn’t be more proud to have your hand in his. 
“What if it is negative?” You whisper to him, watching as he opens the doorway.
“Then we will continue trying.” He replies simpy, ushering you inside. 
Grinning, you eye the envelope, wandering aloud, “And what if it’s positive?”
A low hum vibrates into the air from behind your form, feeling those strong arms wrap around your midsection shortly after. Leaning down, he rests his chin on your shoulder, the metal of his helmet smooth and warm. 
“Then we will continue trying.” He rumbles, his tone sending a shiver up your spine. 
Displaying your amusement is your girlish hum, the thought of Paz breeding you without end a fascinating thought for both your mind and body.
The news of pregnancy was delivered via message, either physical or holographic, in Mandalorin culture. It was done this way for privacy purposes. The discovery of a pregnancy within a tribe was often an emotional revelation, and while you’re sure the entire covert will celebrate, you wanted to do so together, first. That is, if it’s positive. 
“Open it.” Paz then commands, nodding once toward the envelope. 
And with shaky hands, you do, inhaling a breath of confidence. His presence doesn’t leave you as you reveal the paper holding your results, his hold on you becoming tighter as the two of you read on. 
And the news is more overwhelming than either of you anticipated. 
This early on, you expected negative results. Though, it’s not like you hadn’t been trying before Paz’s proposal. But to immediately get a yes, a positive result, made a bout of tears spring to your eyes. 
“Paz…” 
But he’s already dropping to his knees. This ginormous hunk of a man falls behind you, arms still encircling your body. Turning in his hold, you grin, staring down at him.
“Cyar’ika.” And he almost sounds like he could be crying. (Sweetheart)
Immediately, his forehead is on your belly, his shoulders shuddering slightly. He’s nuzzling into you, rubbing his helmet over your covered torso, wishing with everything in him that he could rip his helmet off to kiss it, to kiss you.
“Thank you,” Your lover expresses, both in basic and traditional Mando’a. “Vor entye.” 
Lowering your hands, your tears follow, dripping onto his helmet as you hold the back of it, cradling him against you. “Paz,” Your voice is quiet, already cracking. 
Cabur, protector, and not only for you, but now for your child, too.
“Ner dala riduur, buir be ner adiik.” It’s like he can’t contain himself; whenever he was overcome with emotion, Mando’a became his only tongue. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.” (My beautiful wife, mother of my child. I love you)
He’s thanking you, praising you, repeating his love for you. Your doting husband, the love of your life. And soon, you’ll have a mini version of him. 
“Paz,” Chuckling, you adjust your hold on his helmet, tilting his eyeline up. “Did you read all of it?”
“I read positive.” He says, then shrugging and shaking his head. “What else is there to read?”
Smiling sweetly, you stroke the cheeks of his helmet, forever wishing it were instead his skin. “We are having a son.”
For a second, he stills, a pause in time. “A… son.”
And it’s not the fact that he wouldn’t be just as happy to have a daughter, it’s the fact that you already know the gender. It just makes everything that more exciting, that more real.
As soon as he’s standing, he’s hitting the switch, consuming you in pure darkness. The heavy thud of his helmet jostles the dirt floor, distracting you briefly before both of those broad hands grab your face. And a kiss like this doesn’t show lust, it shows love.
“I love you,” Paz’s deep voice rumbles, body pressing against your own. “I will always love you.” 
Just like that, just that easily, he’s pulling you into bed. But not for sex, for your warmth and presence. He strips down to his kute, you in your underclothes, too, before he wraps you in his arms beneath the blanket of your bed. You wouldn’t have the smallest clue by looking at him, but Paz was one, giant snuggler. It’d always been his strongest love language, physical touch. After all, it was the one sense he was denied the most. 
“You’re such a teddy bear,” Laughing, you wriggle against him, cuddling right into his hold. “I wish I could see you.”
It comes out before you can even stop it. You’ve never said anything like it and as soon as it comes out, you regret it.
“I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Paz.”
“Don’t be.” His voice soothes you, shaking his head softly before kissing your temple. “If I were you, I’d feel the same way.” 
Something about that truly touches you. Not once did you ever expect to hear anything like that come from him. 
“R…Really?”
He only nods, releasing a small hum. “I wish I could show you. I’m not afraid to admit that.”
“Will… I ever know?” 
And to this, he smiles. “When you give me a baby,” He says, bulky arms holding you tight. “You’ll know when you see them.”
Inside, your heart chokes with affection, body curling into his chest. And while facing you, he holds you, legs intertwining with your own. And he can feel the curl of your lips against his skin, pressing forward briefly to kiss him.
“What should we call them?”
One warm hand runs down the back of your head, a low, thoughtful hum coming from him. 
“Ixtal,” He then decides on with a firm nod. “For a girl.”
“Ixtal Vizsla.” You accounce, your tone voicing your favor of this name. “What about for our boy?”
“You tell me, cyar’ika.” Paz coos to you, rubbing your back sweetly. (Sweetheart)
And you smile. You were wondering if he’d ask. 
“I like Ragnar.” 
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bitchin-beskar · 1 year
Text
Training
Rating: Explicit Pairing: College!Athlete!Roommate!Paz Vizsla x Fem!Reader (Bunny) Warnings: Cockwarming!!! That's it that's the fic! ... jk theres a little more to it. Paz has a huge dick we all know it, and boy does he know how to use it. mentioned oral (f) receiving, mentioned fingering, overstim, big dick, dirty talk, mentions of continued overstim, dick so good u wanna cry, free use arrangement. AGAIN. IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT FREE USE OR ANY OF THE OTHER THINGS ARE, YOU ARE TOO DAMN YOUNG. DO NOT READ. DO NOT INTERACT. GO AWAY. Literally Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Exactly what it says on the package. Word Count: 2.1k A/N: Here is another oneshot in the CAR!Paz au! This came about due to an ask sent in by @catsnkooks during this fun lil sleepover weekend! Feel free to send things to my inbox this weekend (or really any time!) This was intended to be a drabble and ended up being just over 2k, so uh, yeah. It's fine. I'm fine. I just wanna thank @catsnkooks, @tailorvizsla, @firstofficerwiggles, @mysticalgalaxysalad, and all the anons who have been encouraging the thirst for this wonderful au! Also thanks to @maybege whom without I likely wouldn't have even created this au, and I'm also gonna tag @ronnieiswriting, bc they sent me a lovely little dm about this au and I finished this tonight instead of waiting as a lil treat for them! Please lemme know what you think, I appreciate all the love y'all have given this au so far!!
Gods, he was gonna split you in half.
You stood completely naked, on shaky legs, in front of Paz where he was sitting on the couch, his chest bare and his sweatpants tugged down just enough for his cock to spring free, resting against the taut skin of his stomach, flushed and weeping. He looked far too composed for a man who’d just spent the better part of an hour fucking you on his fingers and his tongue to prepare you for what he wanted you to do.
It was fucking infuriating.
It was also hot as hell.
His lips curled into a cocky smirk, as if he could read your mind. You were very pointedly trying to keep your eyes trained on his face, which was made all the more difficult when he wrapped his hand around his cock, slowly stroking himself. You couldn’t help yourself as your gaze flickered down to where his hand was wrapped around himself. Even with his own hand, he still looked disproportionately large, and not for the first time, you wondered how exactly your poor pussy was going to survive this... exercise.
“What’s wrong, bunny?” Even his voice was cocky, and even though Paz was your best friend, you felt a very strong urge to strangle him. Still, there was that little voice in the back of your head that was salivaiting at the mere thought of getting him inside you.
You were unreasonably proud at how steady you managed to keep your voice, given what your body had been subjected to and the looks he was leveling you with. “You’re not gonna fit, Paz.”
He didn’t answer right away, instead holding the hand not wrapped around his cock out to you, a silent request. You didn’t hesitate to step forwards and place your own hand in his, letting him tug you forward until you were standing inbetween his legs. Even like this, with him seated and you standing, you were looking him in the eyes. Paz was just that big.
“Don’t worry about that, bunny,” Paz said as he used his grip on your hand to encourage you to turn around, his hand moving to grasp your hip as he pulled you closer to him. You let him guide you, fingers clenching and unclenching in anticipation. He paused for a brief moment to swipe his fingers through your folds, an approving hum leaving him when he deemed you were still wet enough, before returning those fingers to his cock, slicking himself up with your release. Then, he was pulling you down, letting your weight rest mostly against his chest as he notched the head of his cock at your entrance. You sucked in a breath at the sudden pressure, but made an effort to relax.
He made a soft shushing noise, his hand helping to steady you as he began to lower you down, the pressure increasing slowly until the head of his cock was suddenly inside you. You gasped slightly at the intrusion, your thighs tensing at the unfamiliar sensation. You’d had sex before, certainly, but your ex was a much smaller man. Even your toys had never been quite this large.
“P-Paz?” You breathed, voice shaking.
He immediately paused, and you could feel as he kissed the back of your bare shoulder briefly. “Yeah, bunny?”
“W-What if… what if you… d-don’t… what if you don’t…” You trailed off, suddenly embarrased. You were likely far less experienced than his previous partners, and you wondered-not for the first time-how exactly this arrangement was going to affect your relationship with Paz.
But Paz seemed to know what you were trying to say. He tutted softly, brushing his lips against the length of your throat, his smile soft against your skin. “Don’t worry, bunny,” he murmured, starting to work you down again, his cock slowly sliding further and further into you as your mouth fell open at the stretch.
“I’ll make it fit.”
The cocksure tone of his voice made you clench, and he immediately shushed you again, placing both hands on your waist and sitting up from where he’d been lounged against the couch cushions. You made a concerted effort at relaxing again, and you slipped a little further down his length.
The sensation of being slowly stuffed full of Paz’s cock was something you honestly had never imagined you’d get to experience. It was currently defying all expectation, and you weren’t entirely sure you’d make it to being fully seated on his cock without passing out from the pleasure.
He eventually got you about halfway impaled on his cock when he seemed to hit a barrier, and you immediately winced at the uncomfortable feeling. Paz once again stopped immediately, his hands tightening slightly around your waist. You felt a keen sense of disappointment, and you suddenly felt the slight urge to cry. You’d known you weren’t going to be able to take all of him, and he was going to be so disappointed-
“I wanna try something,” he suddenly said, his tone not disappointed like you’d expected, but contemplative. “Trust me?”
You blinked, unsure as to where that was coming from, but nodded nonetheless. You probably should’ve been a bit more cautious with answering, because Paz suddenly slid his hands down from where they’d been resting on your waist to wrap his fingers around the backs of your thighs, and lifted.
A squeal of shock escaped your mouth and your hands flailed as you were suddenly supported only by his grip on your thighs and half of his cock in your cunt. He pulled your thighs apart, so your legs were no longer between his own, but dangling on the outsides of his own thighs. Pulling your legs apart like this surprisingly eased the pressure in your cunt, and he slowly began to lower you more, and your pussy greedily sucked him in.
He was completely supporting your weight with just his hands and forearms, and your brain could not comprehend the strength he must be using to hold you like this. But you couldn’t deny, it was far easier for you to take him in this position, and before you’d quite processed that, the backs of your thighs were resting on the tops of his, and his cock was completely buried in your pussy.
You sucked in a sharp breath, leaning back so your upper body was supported by his chest and you could rest your head against his shoulder. Paz stroked his hands up and down your thighs, humming appreciatively. Your own legs were trembling from the strain and effort it had taken for you to take him.
For a few moments, the two of you just sat there, adjusting to the sensations. You were honestly shocked that you’d managed to take all of him, and you felt a not insignificant amount of pride. Still, it was overwhelming to be that full, and you couldn’t help but brush your hand over your abdomen, feeling like he was in your stomach he was that deep inside you.
Paz chuckled, the vibrations jolting you slightly and shifting his cock slightly inside you, making you whimper quietly. One of his hands came up to cover yours, the size of his hand dwarfing your own.
“Can you feel me here, bunny?” At your nod, Paz pressed down slightly, and you gasped as the change in pressure made sparks of pleasure light up your nerves. “Yeah, you can. How does it feel?”
It took you a few tries to reply, your throat dry and your tongue heavy in your mouth. “I-I feel s-s-so full.” There was truly no other way to describe it, the sensation so unfamiliar but also one you were quickly coming to love.
“Hmm, I bet,” he responded, sounding far too smug and full of himself. He slowly spread his thighs, forcing your own legs further open.
With the way your legs were hooked over his thighs, and the way you were impaled on his cock, you had no choice but to let him move your body the way he wanted to. You felt your cheeks warm at how exposed you were like this, naked and spread open on his lap, even in the emptiness of your shared apartment. You tried to squirm a bit to get more comfortable, and he shifted underneath you, tilting his hips up further into yours somehow, but also easing some of the strain in your lower back as he did so.
The fullness inside of you had you clenching and unclenching, your muscles unused to this position and trying in vain to adjust. Paz didn’t seem to react, although he did wrap his arm more fully around your waist and brough his other hand up to stroke at where the two of you were joined together. Your eyes rolled back in your head as his fingers found your swollen clit, rubbing at it gently.
“P-P-Paz,” you stuttered, voice shaking violently. “P-Paz, s-so much, t-t-too m-mph!”
He’d jerked his hips slightly, just enough to barely count as pulling out before he settled back deep inside you, cutting your protests off with ease. He sped up his fingers, and you thought he might be enjoying the way you trembled uncontrollably on his lap.
“Jus’ need you to come one more time for me, bunny,” he slurred, voice low and thick in your ear. “It’ll help you take me a bit easier, don’t worry. Just gimme one more, okay? I promise it’ll help, it’ll feel so good bunny. You trust me, don’cha?”
You nodded shakily, turning your head to press your sweaty forehead against the side of Paz’s neck. “O-O-Okay, Paz.”
He pressed a kiss against the top of your head, and his fingers sped up again. You’d been on the edge since he began to fuck you onto his cock, and you honestly didn’t need much more stimulation before you were coming again with a low moan and weak twitches of your hips.
Paz hummed appreciatively, his fingers sliding through the mess you’d made between your legs and around his cock. You were tingling with overstimulation, feeling flushed and sweaty and you probably looked a mess, but it was only Paz here to judge you, and you got the feeling he didn’t mind, especially when he was directly responsible for your wrecked state.
“You did such a good job, bunny.” You preened at the words, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “Such a good girl for me, giving me another. You feel so good coming around me like that.” He paused, the silence heavy, and you abruptly felt very much like prey, like the nickname Paz had bestowed upon you implied. You didn’t have the time to contemplate it before he continued.
“I lied, bunny. I’m sorry, but you just felt so good.” His fingers trailed back up to your throbbing clit. “I wanna feel that again. Wanna feel your lil’ pussy trembling around my cock. I wanna feel you gush around me.”
You mouth fell open, and your hands tried to reach down to pull him away but he was quicker, the arm that had been around your waist coming up to grip your wrists in one huge hand, bringing them up so your restricted hands were pressed into your sternum. He tutted softly, spreading his legs just a little further and restricting your movement just that little bit more.
“We agreed on the rule, bunny. You let me do whatever I want, whenever I want. Isn’t that right?” He didn’t wait for an answer before continuing to whisper in your ear, tormenting you.
“And I wanna feel this pretty lil’ pussy absolutely strangle my cock again. I wanna feel you come and come and come until you can’t anymore. And then I wanna fill you up, wanna fill you up so full you’ll feel me dripping down your thighs for weeks. I wanna see you on campus and know you can still feel me in your fucking guts. I want you to sit with your friends and all you can think about is how I feel inside you right now. Any time a guy even fucking looks at you I want you to remember how this feels. I want you to remember how hard you came with my cock in your lil’ cunt.”
He stopped for a moment, breathing harshly in your ear as he quickly worked you towards another orgasm, and you almost couldn’t hear his next words over the uncontrollable whimpers and moans that escaped your throat as he abused your poor cunt.
“You’ll never be able to fuck anyone else and not think of me, bunny. I’m gonna fucking wreck you.”
401 notes · View notes
javier-pena · 10 months
Text
permission
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Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader x Paz Vizsla
Word Count: 3.3k
Rating: Explicit
Summary: You belong to Paz ... but there's something about Din Djarin. He's on your mind constantly.
Warnings: threesome (m/f/m) | I’m taking great liberty with the Death Watch’s rules (Din takes his helmet off in front of Paz) | Din and Paz have a difficult relationship | mentions of alcohol | semi-public sex | voyeurism kink | oral (f receiving) | use of a blindfold | use of restraints | mentions of breasts (no size though) | overstimulation | multiple orgasms | unprotected p in v sex | masturbation (m) | a bit of spanking | a bit of anal (f receiving) | creampie
Notes: I had the idea for this fic somewhere toward the end of Mandalorian S3 and then it took me a while to find the time to write it but here it is 🤭 shoutout, as always, to Dani @alexturner for reading this in advance even though she definitely isn't a Paz girlie.
***
The air in the private booth is stuffy, filled with laughter, with cries and music, with the sounds of metal jugs hitting wooden surfaces, spilling their contents over tables and hands. The only thing separating you from the commotion beyond is a thin curtain, only there to give the occupants of the room a semblance of privacy.
It’s just you and Paz tonight – he sits perched on a wooden stool that groans under his massive body every time he shifts. You sit on his lap, cool beskar steel pressing into your thighs through your thin pants. And then there’s Din Djarin, whom you have known for as long as you’ve known Paz, maybe even longer. Memories begin to blur when you hop from planet to planet, from system to system.
With one hand, Din lifts his helmet so his chin and bottom lip are exposed, and takes a sip from his drink. Paz mirrors him, shifting his weight and you with it. You lean closer to him for some purchase against his hard chest, looking at a spot just behind Din’s head, at a brown stain on a gray wall, at a lamp barely bright enough to illuminate a little corner, at a small bug scurrying down from the ceiling. You look anywhere but at Din’s visor, anywhere but at the macrobinocular viewplate that hides his piercing eyes, those eyes he can’t keep off you, that have been on you ever since you all sat down. As long as you find other things to focus on, his gaze doesn’t hold any power over you.
“Are you’re sure they’re on this planet?” you attempt to make conversation, to distract Din and yourself.
Both men grunt, but that’s the only response they grant you.
You shift on Paz’s lap, you squirm, and he slings an arm around your waist, gloved hand coming to rest on your stomach. His other hand holds onto his jug while his eyes pin down the man opposite him.
“If I was running from the law, I’d try to hide somewhere warm, preferably with a beach,” you try to strike up a conversation for a second time.
“They’re not running from the law,” Paz answers, his thumb brushing against your stomach.
“No, I know,” you say. “I was just saying, there are nicer places to hi-”
The rest of the sentence is lost somewhere in the stuffy air as Paz’s hand glides lower, two fingers coming to rest at the apex of your thighs, pressing down. You can’t be sure, but you think Din’s gaze follows Paz’s motions … at least he lowers his helmet slightly. He could also be staring at your chest, you realize, your face hot with embarrassment.
“Where would you hide then?” Din asks, a metallic undertone in his voice, distorted by the modulator in his helmet.
“Niamos, maybe,” you answer. “I’ve heard Spira is nice –”
An insistent pull low in your abdomen makes you leave the sentence hovering unfinished in the air above the table. Two of Paz’s fingers are massaging you through your pants, the pressure enough to light up your core, not really enough for anything else. You grip the edge of the table, pretend you’re trying to get more comfortable on Paz’s lap, while Din raises his head, his gaze settling on the man behind you. There is a wordless exchange – you can see it in the way Din shifts his shoulders, hear it in the harsh exhale of breath coming through Paz’s modulator.
Suddenly, Paz slings his arm around your chest and grips your shoulder with his free hand. “Do you really think you’d be able to outrun us?”
Your vision blurs as you see yourself cowering in a dark air vent, as you imagine yourself crouching behind the trunk of a sturdy tree, laying low in a run-down motel, scraping together some credits to bribe an official to let you off a planet without papers. All the while, you’re looking over your shoulder, you scan every crowd for a flash of beskar, blue or brown, for the glint of a visor reflecting sunlight. You see them kick down the door to your room, tie you up, drag you back to their ship … No, you wouldn’t be able to outrun them.
You shake your head.
“No, you’re right,” Paz agrees, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, even with the helmet covering his face.
He slips his hand past the waistband of your pants then, the coarse leather of his glove rough against the soft skin of your thighs and belly. He reaches down to where wet heat has begun to moisten your underwear, and holds you, his palm resting against your clit. Din’s chest is rising and falling so fast you notice it in spite of the strong armor covering him. You force yourself to stare directly at his visor, to imagine his hidden eyes on you, his mouth hanging open. Your own mouth is dry, you can feel your heartbeat in your throat.
“I think you’d like that,” Paz goes on. “I think you’d like being at our mercy like that.”
You nod, because he’s right. You nod, because the thought has crossed your mind once or twice, when you watched them bring someone in, when you watched them handle their bounty as if they weighed nothing, their captive’s pleas falling on deaf ears. You nod, because Din’s hand closes harder around his jug, the leather of his glove groaning.
Paz notices too, and you can hear the gloating in his voice when he speaks next. “Would you like to touch her?”
You belong to Paz, but Din – it’s complicated. It’s an open secret there’s tension between the two men, between these two brothers by creed, because Paz got to you first. It’s a well-guarded secret, hidden in a deep, dark corner of your heart, that you sometimes wish Din had been first, that you sometimes lie awake, imagining his hands on you instead of Paz’s. And it’s a fact that Paz likes to tease both of you because of that.
Paz’s question is followed by a shift of his palm, by increased pressure against your clit. You bite your lip to contain a whimper.
“Paz …,” Din says, and it sounds like a warning. Or a plea.
“You know what to say,” Paz responds, and a shiver runs down your spine at the commanding tone in his voice.
Your eyes are glued to Din’s visor, a silent plea written all over your face. Say yes, say yes, say yes. But Din only has eyes for his brother, his rival, purposefully avoiding your gaze. And then he speaks.
“May I touch her, please?”
The strain in his voice does make you whimper this time. Paz hears it, and so does Din. A big hand is grabbing one of your breasts now, squeezing it, rolling your nipple. You find purchase between the table and Paz’s thigh, but you can already feel the sizzling edges of an orgasm making its way toward you with greedy hands. Din watches, shifts in his seat, adjusts himself in his pants. And somewhere, far away, a man shouts, a glass bursts.
“Go on, then,” Paz says, letting go of your breast to spread your thighs with a sure motion.
Here? is your first thought. The second, much louder one, is Fuck …! as Din stands up, shaking hands balled into fists at his side, a visible bulge in his dark pants.
Paz pushes you off his lap, pulls down your pants and underwear in one quick motion, then pulls you back toward his chest. He spreads you open with both hands, an offering for Din to do with as he pleases. Or maybe not quite. Because when Din gets to work on pulling his cock out of his pants, Paz snaps, “No. Get on your knees.”
Din stops, uncoils his fingers, then balls them into fists again, a quick succession of small movements. His shoulders tense as he looks at you, spread open for him, as he wonders if the price might be too high after all. You know him well enough to know he’s weighing getting to touch you against following Paz’s rules. He can’t have one without the other. You want to whisper his name, you want to call out for him, but one wrong move, one wrong word, and Paz is going to take this away from the both of you.
Din stills his hands eventually, presses the open palms against his thighs, and makes up his mind. You feel the ground shake as he falls to his knees in front of you, then raises his helmet to seek out your eyes. The visor is too dark for you to be able to tell what lies beyond it, and you wish you’d be allowed to see his face, his eyes, just once, but before you can even ask for something as ridiculous as that, your vision turns dark.
“Take off your helmet,” Paz commands as he ties a piece of dark fabric tightly over your eyes. You squirm as your heart begins to race, but Paz presses you tightly against his body. “Stay still,” he whispers into your ear. “We’re going to take care of you.”
You feel a pounding between your legs at the hissing sound you hear next. Your breathing is too hard, too shallow, but with your eyesight gone, you have to rely on your other senses. The shouts from behind the curtain are louder than before – you can make out individual voices, certain words and phrases – and you are keenly aware of the fact that any second now someone could burst into the room to see you spread open like this with a man kneeling between your legs while another one holds you down.
That doesn’t stop your chest from vibrating with a deep moan when Din tentatively licks across the wet heat between your thighs. The first stroke of his tongue is a relief, the second kindles something within you, the third one and all the others following are torture. Paz starts to massage your breast again and your head falls back against his chest, relying on him and Din to make sure you won’t slide to the floor. Din’s licks become faster, more eager, as he buries his face between your legs, drinking you down like he’s starving and the taste of you is the only thing that can save him. His hands find their way to your thighs and he digs his fingers into your soft skin, spreading you even further, licking deeper and deeper.
“Don’t touch her,” Paz growls.
Din squeezes your thighs, but lets go quickly. You miss his touch, but know better than to say something. Instead, you twine your legs around his shoulders, caging him in with your thighs. He moans against your clit, and you shiver, pressing yourself harder against his chin and tongue and nose. Then his hands are on the back of your thighs, massaging your ass, pressing you even closer as he starts to feast on you, barely coming up for air.
“I said don’t fucking touch her.” Paz pulls you off Din’s shoulders, away from him, and stands while dropping you onto his stool.
It’s pathetic, really, the way you whimper, “Please,” but neither man hears you. You just hear sounds, a whirr, the sound of Din’s angry grunts of protest, armor clanging against armor. And then Paz says, “That’ll teach you”.
He picks you up again and places you back on his lap, and then Din’s face is pushed against you. He grunts his surprise and you hiss at the sudden return of his tongue. You hear the sound of leather tightening, and then Din’s head moves as if he has been shoved. A second later, both of Paz’ hands are on your body again, while Din’s remain absent.
Your entire body hums with the sensation of Din licking into you, each stroke hungrier than the last, while Paz holds you against him, watches over you, makes sure you’re okay. Sometimes, there are orders, “Not too fast. More pressure. Take your time with her,” other times there are questions, “Do you like how wet she is for you? Do you see how her legs are shaking?” and sometimes there are encouragements, “Yes, that’s it. You’re doing so well. Beautiful.” You’re not quite sure who the recipient of those is.
You come once with a surprised shout, spilling down Din’s chin, and hear all the sounds become wetter. Din doesn’t stop though, and Paz doesn’t tell him to either, and when you try to squirm away, raw and overstimulated, Paz makes sure you stay in place. You come a second time, moaning and panting so loudly Paz clamps a hand over your mouth until all you can taste is leather. Even after you’ve stopped shaking, even when you can’t do anything but hang limply between their bodies, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your heart beating so fast it feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest, blood rushing in your ears and pounding through your body, Paz still doesn’t let go, only says, “Another one.” Your feeble protest is lost between his thick fingers covered in hard leather.
You’re not sure you can come a third time, even though you can feel yourself flutter against Din’s tongue from time to time, even though there is an insistent throbbing there every time he sucks your clit into his mouth. Too weak to push him off, even if Paz would let you, all you can do is lie there and take it until they’re both satisfied. Paz squeezes your nipple again, but finally releases your jaw, and you breathe in deeply, gulp down air. The sweat running down from your brow mingles with a few stray tears pushing past the blindfold.
“Come on, girl, you can take it,” Paz whispers somewhere above you, and you nod, licking your dry lips.
The next thing you feel is Paz’s naked finger against your lips, tasting of Revnog. You lick it eagerly, tasting the sharp sting of the drink and the rich flavor of leather. As a reward, he grants you two fingers next, both coated in Revnog. As you suck them into your mouth, Din shifts between your legs, changing the angle slightly, and you’re pulled forward by a third orgasm, one that’s been building for a while now, one that catches you by surprise and refuses to let you go once it has you in its grasp. Your moans are choked by Paz’s fingers in your mouth; when you get too loud, he presses down against your tongue, making you choke. When you’re too quiet, he lessens his hold so he can hear you better.
Once you’re spent, ears ringing so loudly the sounds beyond the curtain seem muffled, far away, like you’re listening to them through a thick wall of water, Paz lifts you off his lap and places you on the stool where you slump, unable to keep yourself upright. A noise much closer to you, one that penetrates your exhausted mind, is the sound of Din trying to catch his breath, his shallow pants, his groans as he shifts on the floor in front of you. And finally, you can make out the hum of a vibroblade as Paz cuts him loose.
When Paz takes off your blindfold, he does it gently, careful not to touch you more than necessary. He strokes your cheek, his fingers cool and coarse against your heated skin. You blink a few times, waiting for your vision to become less blurry, and then look up at him hovering above you, taller than usual, his shoulders tense, his stance wide. You know what comes next.
Paz hands you his jug, lets you take a swig from it, then pulls you off that stool and pushes you against the table. You grunt as your chest hits the wood, try to push yourself up, but Paz pushes you back down, one hand sprawled across your back, kicking your legs apart with his foot.
“Hold her down,” he grunts.
When you look up, you see Din stand in front of you, his face already hidden behind his helmet again. The pang of disappointment you feel at that sight is quickly replaced by seething lust as he grabs both your wrists with one hand and holds them down against the wood. Between this and Paz’s hold on your hips, there is no chance of escape for you.
Behind you, the rustle of clothes cuts through the suddenly still atmosphere, laden with expectation. Then you feel Paz’s cock against your backside as he drags himself over your exposed skin before pushing into you with one quick stroke. You scream, nails digging into the wood – he’s so big, so heavy … you’re not sure you can take it. Paz gives you a moment to breathe, strokes down your back to calm you, even whispers, “Shhh,” (a hissing sound through the modulator). But then he pulls out and slams back into you so hard you see stars.
“Please,” you whimper, but he only tightens his hold on your hips.
You try to move but you can’t. Din, who feels you struggle against his hold, circles one of your wrists with his thumb in a soothing motion and you swallow hard as you try to relax. Paz’s palm lands against your bare ass with a slap and you’re being pushed forward, up the table. The sound you make is closer to pleasure than pain now.
“Do it, pretty boy,” Paz grunts between thrusts, and you glance back up at Din, watch as he pulls himself out of his pants, hope you don’t imagine the slight tremor in his hand. Your mouth turns painfully dry at the sight of his cock, completely hard, a dark red on the verge of becoming purple, its tip glistening invitingly. He begins to stroke himself fast, eyes fixed on you as he groans with relief, and you feel his hold on you become less hard.
Escape is now the last thing on your mind. You lick your lips eagerly as you imagine what it would feel like to have Din’s cock press against your tongue, spilling down your throat. And you hope Din has similar thoughts as he stares at you, chest heaving. Paz slaps you again. Then he closes his fingers around the back of your neck, pushing your head down. You push back against him in defiance, but he only slaps you a third time.
“You’re mine,” he growls.
Your fingers scrape against a bit of exposed skin on Din’s wrist.
“Come on, say it,” Paz orders, between three particularly vicious thrusts.
For a brief moment, you consider defying him, but there is something about the whimper you think you hear from Din’s direction that tells you he likes seeing you be used like this.
“I’m yours,” you give in.
“Good girl,” Paz praises. Then you feel a pressure between your cheeks, followed by a burning sensation as he pushes a finger past your muscles, taut with pleasure.
You don’t come, at least you don’t think you do, but you can feel yourself clench around Paz so hard his movements become erratic. Before you feel his hot release spilling into you, you hear Din hiss, “Fuck!” and feel him coat your bare arms, your cheeks, and the table beneath you in thick, white ropes.
While Paz fucks his seed into you with a few final, deep thrusts, you lick Din’s cum from the corner of your mouth, savoring its heady taste. And Din strokes your cheek, softly, like he’s savoring nothing more than this moment.
***
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Text
Bold
Paz Vizsla x fem!reader (no use of y/n) Word count-4.5k
Summary- Paz saves your life when the pirates attack Nevarro. And then you find out he likes it when you’re bold...
Warnings- 18+ ONLY minors do not interact, takes places on Nevarro during "The Pirate," protective!Paz, mutual pining, smut, handjob, fingering, breast play, oral (f receiving), cumplay, size kink, competency kink, praise kink, squirting, creampie, multiple orgasms, "good girl" Notes- This one is dedicated to the Paz girlies. This started as more towards the action and protectiveness and then I had the idea to add the smut and I ended up spending more time on that lol! Enjoy! @flightlessangelwings-updates​ is my update blog to also follow and turn on post notifications to stay up to date on when I post!
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You let out a deep sigh as you scanned the rubble that was once the capital city of Nevarro. You and the others counted yourselves lucky to be alive, but nerves still pulsed through your veins that you had just been through. As you helped the others clean up the mess and start to rebuild your homes, you relived the past day in your head. But it was the liberation and the rescue of your home that stuck with you the most.
It all happened so fast. The Nevarro sky rained with blaster fire as ships poured out of the large pirate vessel that descended on the city. You tried to run, but the pirates grabbed you and a few others and held you hostage, forcing you all to act as their bartenders as they enjoyed their victory over your largely defenseless city.
But just as you felt the feeling of despair threaten to overtake you, a light in the atmosphere brought hope. Ships carrying Mandalorians swept through the city and they easily took out the pirates. The other trapped girls quickly ran for cover, but one of the pirates grabbed you before you could join them.
“You’re coming with me, pretty girl,” he sneered at you. 
You screamed as you tried to break free, but it wasn’t until a blast hit his face that he finally let you go. A gasp escaped your lips as the biggest man you had ever seen decked out completely in blue armor grabbed you by the wrist and told you in an urgent tone, “Stay behind me. I’ve got you.”
You didn’t want to leave his side even for a moment, and you easily complied with his order. Not wanting to be a burden, you grabbed a blaster from the fallen pirate and shot as whoever you could from the safety of your Mandalorian shield. He protected you throughout the blaster fire until the dust settled and the last pirate was taken down. Even when your two groups of people met and your leaders came to an agreement to share the land of Nevarro, you stayed close to him. 
As the conversation came to an end, and yours and his people broke off to go their own ways, you let out a heavy sigh of relief, “Thank you,” your voice was just a whisper but you were sure he heard you, “You saved my life back there.” After a beat, you gave him your name.
The large blue Mandalorian turned to you slowly and gave you a nod, “You held your own back there well,” his smooth, low voice sent a shiver up your spine as he took your hand. He raised your arm up to the bottom edge of his helmet as he tapped the back of your hand to it. “Paz,” he gave you his name shortly before he let go of your hand and went to join his people.
You stood dumbfounded for several moments just cradling your hand as if you felt his lips against your skin. It wasn’t until your friends called your name and ran up to you, engulfing you in warm embraces that you let go of your breath and were brought back to the present. 
*
The citizens of Nevarro all decided to camp out together that first night and get to work rebuilding the city the next day. You spent the morning helping some others clean out the school before you decided to walk to the further edge of the city and see how bad the damage was to your home. Living closer to the outskirts, you hoped that the little neighborhood where your house sat in a row of other dwellings wasn’t hit too badly.
“Thank the Maker,” you let out a sigh of relief when you turned the corner and saw all the buildings still sood mostly intact. But you scrunched your brows when you saw that a large piece of rubble completely blocked your front door. “Ok…” you breathed as you stretched and tried to work yourself up and muster the energy to move it.
But as hard as you pushed and as much as you strained, the piece of rubble just would not budge. 
“Shit,” you cursed under your breath as you tried again, lunging at the stubborn rock. Maybe you thought that you could catch it by surprise and it would move.
Then suddenly it did move.
You yelped as the heavy boulder slowly slid away from you and you almost tripped over yourself when it lifted off the ground and moved to the side. Finding your footing, you looked up from the ground and saw the familiar blue Mandalorian grunting as he used every ounce of his strength to move the boulder out of your way.
“Paz!” you breathed in relief as you watched him set the rubble down out of the way of your front door. Even if you had wanted to, you couldn’t hide the way your face lit up when you saw him again.
“A valiant effort,” Paz tilted his head to the side as he looked you up and down, “But I think that was too big for you to move on your own.”
You bit your lip as you fiddled with your fingers, “Well good thing I have a Mandalorian that seems to find me at just the right time.” 
A short huff escaped his lips and you wondered if he hid a smirk underneath that helmet. You were sure you imagined it, but you thought you saw his gaze subtly drift down along your figure, as if he studied every inch of you, every curve of your body. It made your skin tingle and heat up as you snuck a glance at his imposing figure whenever you could. You only hoped he didn’t catch your wandering eyes. 
If he noticed, Paz didn’t mention it and he redirected your thoughts when he spoke again, “Your door is damaged,” he seemed to force himself to concentrate on anything but you as he turned his attention to your front door. He ran his gloved hand up and down the doorframe and you couldn’t help but wonder what his hand would feel like if he touched you like that. Again, though, his voice brought you back to reality, “I can fix it for you,” Paz said plainly before he pulled out a tool from his pack and made quick work of your front door.
The world felt like it spun around you as you watched the big, strong Mandalorian fix the front of your house like it was nothing. Just like he lifted that boulder like it was nothing. Thankfully, the damage wasn’t too bad, but you found that you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. The way he was able to move the boulder that blocked your way, the way he easily shot down the pirates and kept you safe the day before, the way he competently fixed your door… you were a goner before you even realized it.
“Done,” Paz huffed as he straightened his posture and pushed your door open.
Your eyes went wide as your gaze trailed from his armored silhouette to the inside of your home. Paz stood to the side as you carefully stepped inside, your breath trapped in your chest as you anticipated the worst. But, you let out a deep sigh of relief when the inside was completely intact. Only some things scattered the floor that had fallen from the tables and shelves when the city was attacked, but otherwise, the damage was minimal. 
“You got lucky here,” Paz moved to stand at your side, closing the door behind him, “Your home seems to have escaped the damage,” he turned to you as your gaze stayed forward. His hand clenched and unclenched as he longed to reach out to you like he did the way before. Even from the moment he first saw you, Paz felt an instant pull towards you. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before, and when he saw the way you fought back against the clutches of that pirate, he felt compelled to protect you. 
Unaware of Paz’s inner turmoil, you let out another deep sigh as you met his vizor. Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt his gaze on you, even if you couldn’t see it. You had no idea where it came from, but your next words caught even you off guard, “It’s not the first time I got lucky… Maybe it won’t be the last…” your tone dropped as you made your intentions obvious to him.
As he stared at you, you instantly regretted your words and you dropped your gaze and turned away from him, “I’m sorry,” you blurted out, “That was bold… I don’t want to cross a line…”
But your rambles of embarrassment were cut off when a gloved hand gently cupped your chin and guided you to look back at him, “No,” Paz’s voice was soft as his tone matched your low one, “I like boldness,” he growled as his grip on your chin tightened slightly.
The tension in the room was palpable as you both stared at each other. Nerves made your skin tingle and your breath tremble, yet the way Paz held your chin brought comfort to you. Finding your bravery, you broke the silence, “The bedroom is back this way.”
“Lead the way,” Paz replied in a low tone as his thumb brushed across your face.
You stepped backwards, knowing your home by heart, so you didn’t have to look away from Paz as you slid your hand in his. He immediately wrapped his fingers around yours as he caressed your side with his free hand. Paz’s grip landed on your hip and he used the leverage to yank you up against his armored chest.
A gasp escaped your lips as you found yourself flushed against his broad body, and your hand landed on the cool plate of his armor. You felt weightless as you took tiny steps back into your bedroom while Paz hands his hands up and down your body. After repeating the motion a few times, he grabbed your shirt and held still, the fabric balled in his fist as his gaze bore into you through the vizor.
“Do it,” you breathed, knowing exactly what he asked without the words needed, “I want this.”
Paz let out a low growl as he made quick work of your clothes. With every step towards your bed he exposed another sliver of your skin until you were completely bare by the time your legs hit the bed. He grunted as he pushed you backwards so that you landed on your mattress, and he was mesmerized by the way your breasts bounced when you did. 
“Beautiful…” Paz groaned as he looked you up and down, this time less subtly.
You laid out on your back completely exposed to him. And Paz couldn’t help but notice the glisten between your parted legs as you anticipated his next move. His gaze ran up your body as he leaned forward, memorizing every dip and curve of your figure until he got you your face and noticed the glazed over expression in your eyes and the way your lips were parted.
Feeling nervous under Paz’s strong gaze, you suddenly became very aware that you were naked and he remained fully covered. Swallowing hard, you whispered, “Can I see your hands?” Your eyes fluttered up to meet his vizor as he hovered over you.
Paz said nothing, and only tilted his helmet to the side slightly.
Somehow, you knew exactly what the gesture meant and you rephrased in a stronger voice, “I want to see your hands.” 
“Good girl,” Paz groaned. 
He stayed hovering over you even as he lifted himself up to slowly remove his gloves. Paz took pleasure in the way your breath trembled and your body shook in anticipation. He teased you as he slowly took one glove off, one finger at a time. And it didn’t go unnoticed when you gasped at the first glimpse of skin or the way you licked your lips when you noticed how thick his fingers were.
But then your next words took you both by surprise, “And your cock.”
Paz stilled, his hands bare for you as he hovered over you between your parted legs. But, he did like the boldness in your request… command… and Paz felt himself stiffen in his pants. With a growl, he complied, and his bare hands quickly freed his cock for you.
“Fuck…” you breathed when you saw how big he was. 
Moving before you could stop yourself, you reached out for him and wrapped your hand around his cock. Paz leaned forward more, planting his hands on either side of you as you gave his length a soft squeeze. You glanced up for a moment, and when you felt his energy flow through your body, your eyes drifted back down between your bodies as you pumped his cock.
Paz growled your name as he tilted his head forward so that his helmet rested against your forehead. He felt cool against your heated skin, and when he rocked his hips in time with your hand, you worked him faster, squeezing all the spots that made him groan more. Heat rose in the room as you pumped him as he covered your body with his own, and you let out a soft moan when Paz growled your name.
“If you don’t stop now…” Paz grunted, “I’m going to cum all over you…”
You looked up from where his cock captivated your attention to meet Paz’s vizor. A challenge glistened in your eyes as you gave him a slight smirk and pumped him faster in response. A low curse hissed out of Paz’s lips as he thrust his hips into your hand more. Grunts and whimpers filled the room as Paz felt his climax hit him before he could give you any warning. A gasp escaped your throat as he came hard, splashing his seed all over your stomach, but you kept going until Paz grabbed your wrist and yanked you off of him.
Heavy breaths filled the space between your bodies as you and Paz stared at each other for several moments. Your wrist stayed in his grip as you were content to be held by him. And for a moment, you swore you saw a glimpse of his eyes behind the darkness of the vizor…
But that moment quickly vanished when Paz let go of your wrists to grab onto your breasts firmly. You dropped your head onto the mattress as you let out a loud scream as he squeezed and fondled your breasts. His rough fingers pinched your nipples as he kneaded the soft flesh and savored every little sound of pleasure you made under his touch. 
“You look so beautiful with my cum on you,” Paz groaned as he gave your breasts another firm squeeze. 
“Paz…” you panted as your eyes fluttered closed. 
He ran his hands down the sides of your body, careful to leave the evidence of his release on your skin. When he reached your thighs, Paz grabbed your legs and parted them more, and his breath hitched in his throat when he saw how your pussy glistened. 
“So wet for me already, mesh’la,” Paz growled as he scooped just a little bit of his seed and trailed it down the mound of your public bone, “But I need to prepare you for my cock…”
“Please Paz,” you begged as you shifted to make yourself comfortable, “I need you… Don’t make me wait.”
“Shhh,” he cooed as he parted your lower lips, “Patience, mesh’la… I’ve got you.” 
Your heart skipped a beat as he repeated his first words to you, only this time they held even more meaning, “I trust you,” you whispered your reply as you relaxed your body under his expert touch. Vaguely, you wondered what that nickname meant, but just by the way he said it with fondness was enough to make your heart flutter. 
But any thought you might have had vanished from your mind as Paz coated his finger with his seed and pushed into your pussy. You clutched at the sheets as his thick digit entered you inch by delicious inch. Paz groaned as he watched his cum-coated finger disappear inside you and your warmth engulfed him. His cock already started to stiffen again as he slowly reeled back and thrust his finger fully into you again.
“Paz!” you cried out as he repeated the motion again and again, “Another finger… Please…”
He growled your name as he complied with your request… demand. You felt so good around his fingers and he felt your wet tightness grip him hard as he crooked his fingers up and hit your sweet spot with precision. You bucked your hips and screamed loudly as you felt like you would fly off of the bed.
“Oh fuck…” you cried out as Paz hit your sweet spot over and over again ad he thrust his fingers harder and faster.
“Show me how beautiful you are when you cum,” Paz growled as he watched you fall apart with intense satisfaction. His cock screamed at him, but he ignored it in favor of pleasuring you.
It didn’t take long for Paz to get what he wanted and you came with a loud scream. Your legs trembled on either side of him as you rode out your climax on his fingers as Paz savored the way your mouth dropped open to allow the beautiful sounds to flow freely. When you were spent, you flopped down limp on the bed and Paz stayed still inside you for a few moments as he watched your breasts rise and fall.
Carefully, paz pulled his fingers out, and he caressed your body with his free hand when you let out a soft whimper. You kept your eyes closed as you spread yourself for him in a wordless invitation… but Paz had other plans for you.
“Turn over, mesh’la,” he ordered softly.
You blinked your eyes open and were met with his armored figure, just his hands and cock out for you. You gasped as you felt a fresh wave of need crash through you at the way he looked at you with fondness, even through the helmet. You flashed him a grin as you eagerly complied.
Feeling flirtatious, you wiggled your ass a little as you positioned yourself on your hands and knees. Any embarrassment was gone after you both came for each other once, and all that was felt in between the two of you was need and desire.
“Put your face down,” Paz said, “Keep your eyes covered.”
That caught you off guard and the nerves rushed back. But, you did as you were told with a meek, “Yes.” You leaned forward, burying your face in the sheets until your world went black. And your skin warmed as the motion made you lift your ass in the air, putting yourself on full display for the Mandalorian.
To test you, Paz slapped your pussy without warning. You screamed into the mattress, but your face stayed buried. You felt dizzy from the impact but it only turned you on more.
“Good girl,” he growled as he dipped down behind you, “Stay just like that no matter what.”
Before you could answer, you felt the cold touch of Paz’s helmet against your ass. Goosebumps erupted on your skin as you heard the hiss of his helmet and you realized what he had planned. You let out a loud moan as you felt the tip of Paz’s tongue against your folds as he licked your pussy from behind. 
Your muffled moans filled the room as you clutched tightly to the sheets, lost in the pleasure that was Paz’s tongue. Even with your face buried, you saw stars every time he hit your clit, and you were sure you weren't going to last long.
“Fuck… Paz… You’re gonna make me cum,” you whimpered before you fell apart again.
He slurped loudly as he gripped your thighs tightly, licking and sucking at your cunt while you came on his face. Paz savored the taste of you, and he smirked against you as he felt you gush against his face. And while he kept his helmet tilted off just enough to expose his lips, Paz was proud of you for keeping yourself down just like he told you to.
Breaking away with a pop, Paz lowered his helmet back down and licked his lips as he did so, “I think you’re ready for my cock now, mesh’la,” his voice was low as he stroked himself, “You can lift your head now.”
You didn’t have the energy to pick yourself up completely, but you lifted your face and took in a deep breath.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes,” you breathed as you trembled in anticipation. 
But as wet as you were, the stretch of Paz’s cock still took your breath away and you gasped loudly as the tip pushed into you. Slowly, Paz entered your pussy with a groan of his own. Fuck you felt even better around him than he thought. But, he didn’t want to hurt you by letting himself go.
“Are you alright?” Paz asked as he caressed your back and your ass.
“Yes,” you replied immediately, “Fuck… Please, don’t stop. Feels so good.”
Paz growled as he kept going, “You look even more beautiful on my cock than I thought,” he groaned as he pushed the rest of the way inside you, “And you feel even better too.”
You whimpered as the feeling of Paz’s cock was overwhelming in the best way. You had never felt fuller, never been more stretched out, and you had never felt a pleasure like this ever in your life. Maker, you were already addicted to him and he had just entered you. 
He grabbed onto your hips as he rolled back and thrust forward gently. Slowly at first, Paz rocked back and forth, but the more you moaned and cried out in pleasure, the faster he went. Skin slapped against skin as he reached forward and grabbed your arms, lifting your chest off the bed as he thrust into you over and over again.
Moans and screams filled the room as your mouth hung open while Paz fucked you. Your eyes rolled back as you surrendered yourself and gave every inch of yourself to him. Not only did his cock stretch you out more than ever before, but the way Paz held you tight made you feel safe and protected as he pounded into you.
Paz groaned your name as he craved even more of you. He grabbed you and yanked you back so that your bare back was pressed flush against his armored chest. Paz wrapped his arm around you and grabbed your breast with one hand and pinned you against his body and rubbed at your clit with the other.
“Oh! Fuck!” you screamed, “Paz!” you reached up behind you and grabbed onto him wherever you could. Only your knees stayed on the bed as you arched your back and let Paz hold you tightly as he fucked into you with an ever faster pace.
“Cum, mesh’la,” he groaned in your ear, “Cum on my cock.” Paz’s own orgasm wasn’t far behind, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he would last like this. Holding you in his arms while he thrust into you was just as overwhelming for him as it was for you. 
“Cum in me,” you whispered before your climax hit you.
That was all it took for both of you to completely fall apart. You screamed loudly as your inner muscles squeezed Paz’s cock. His grip on you tightened as he filled you to the point where you thought you would burst, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was Paz and the ecstasy he brought you. Your entire body shook as he held you close and you both rode out your intense highs on each other.
You felt yourself gush as your release dripped down your inner thigh. Paz noticed too, as he felt you soak his cock while he spilled himself inside of you until that too dripped out of you. With one last grunt and thrust, Paz sheathed himself completely inside you as he tipped you both forward until you both collapsed down onto the bed. 
Neither of you moved for a long time. Heavy breaths filled the room as you laid in Paz’s arms, his cock still buried deep inside you. Tears filled your eyes from the waves of emotions that crashed into you suddenly. As much as you tried to keep them hidden, Paz heard a soft sob and immediately pushed himself up.
“Are you alright, cyare?” Paz hissed as he pulled out of you, but his focus was quickly redirected to your needs.
You whimpered at the loss of him inside you, “I’m fine, Paz,” your voice was soft as he wiped away the tears from the corners of your eyes, “More than fine actually,” you gave him a bright smile as you leaned into his touch. Closing your eyes, you kissed the palm of his hand and you heard his breath hitch. 
Paz let out a heavy sigh as he looked at you. He felt an even bigger need to keep you protected as you looked so vulnerable in his arms. A glow surrounded you as you let out a contented sigh of your own. It was a tender moment neither of you would ever forget. 
But, Paz knew he couldn’t stay like this forever, “I should go,” he said abruptly.
“Wait,” you grabbed his wrist before he could get up, “Stay?” you pleaded with your eyes before you repeated in a stronger voice, “I want you to stay.” 
He let out another sigh, “Alright.” Paz wouldn’t admit how little it took to convince him to stay. But he also didn’t want to deny how much he already craved the feeling of you securely in his arms. The rest of the world could wait as Paz settled back down and held you tight. He wondered what would happen moving forward. How could he keep you by his side while still remaining loyal to his tribe? Would Ragnar like you? Would you like him? 
But for now, those questions would wait, and all Paz wanted to do was hold you close.
SImilar questions ran through your mind, and you wondered if he would want to stay with you, if he would allow you to stay with him. Somehow, you had a feeling you could make it work from how strong your feelings were already. You could figure it out somehow. And you had never been happier that you were bold as you sighed contently in Paz’s strong arms. 
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tarrensbookmarks · 13 days
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Star Wars
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➼ Kino Loy ‣I Want You to Show Me Weak by tarabyte3 Kino Loy x F!Reader
➼ Din Djarin/The Mandalorian ‣Still of Your Hand by moonlight-prose Din Djarin x F!Reader ‣Sleepy Sex by saradika Din Djarin x F!Reader ‣Home Is Wherever I'm With You by saradika Din Djarin x F!Reader
➼ Boba Fett ‣Dance of the Desert Snake by seriowan Boba Fett x F!Reader ‣Maybe I Just Wanna Be Yours by saradika Boba Fett x F!Reader ‣Ex Libris by daimyosprincess Professor!Boba Fett x F!Librarian!Reader
➼ Paz Vizla ‣Bold by flightlessangelwings Paz Vizsla x F!Reader
➼ Cad Bane ‣Expensive Tastes by eloquentmoon Cad Bane x Rich!F!Reader
➼ Crosshair ‣Insufferable by thrawns-babygirl Crosshair x F!Reader [Part One] [Part Two] ‣Show Me by thrawns-babygirl Crosshair x F!Reader ‣Keeping it Casual by clonecyare Crosshair x F!Reader
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dividers by saradika-graphics
32 notes · View notes
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Little one
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Paz Vizsla x Fem reader
Requested by: none
Warnings: y/n gets injured, fighting with paz, enemies to lovers dynamic. I don't know what to call this story but I'm gonna make a part 2
A/n: 18+ If you don't like the warnings please don't read!
___
"I don't know why you brought me to the covert, Bo Katan I understand. But me?" Y/n asked.
Din looked over at her, all she could see was the helmet but by the way he slouched his shoulders and tilted his head, she knew what face he was making.
"What!? I would've been happy going to tatooine and kicking back with Boba and Fennec. But no instead I have to sit around a covert, being gazed upon by judgemental eyes because I'm not wearing a fuckin helmet!"
Din straighted up. "You'll be fine."
"Oh yeah? Well what about Paz Vizsla? Everytime we see him, he's either tryna rip your helmet off or fight you! He's a big guy, one day he'll win."
"I love your vote of confidence."
___
Bo Katan landed the ship on the beach, y/n's hand got closer and closer to her light saber the more they moved towards the cave.
Y/n stopped in her tracks the moment her eyes landed on the man she didn't wish to see. Paz and a few other Mando's slowly made their way out of the cave.
"You're no longer welcome here Din Djarin." Vizsla said.
"I bathed in the living waters, I bring proof." Din held up a silver cylinder.
"I stand as witness." Bo said.
Paz tilted his head. "And who are you, night owl?"
"I am Bo Katan of clan kryze."
The conversation and snide comments continued as Y/n scanned the area, watching the water, the cliffs, and the dunes. Vizsla took note of this, how patient she was with every spot she looked to, just waiting to see something.
"Y/n."
"Yeah?"
Din ushered her into the cave, She walked by Paz looking him up and down with a sneer, earning a dark chuckle.
"You'd be wise in refraining from looking at me in such a manner, little one."
___
They entered a small room where The armorer stood, and like always she was holding a hammer and what looked like a wrench.
Y/n made sure she was close to Din and as far away from Paz as she could get, which was like a foot. She gripped his arm, making him look over to her and nod.
"It's alright. They won't hurt you."
The armorer turned to them. "I wouldn't expect a Jedi to be afraid of Mandalorians."
"You're fierce worriers, I should know I live with one."
Paz Vizsla of course had to pick this moment to speak his mind.
"Coward."
He stepped back as a blue light flashed and he could feel heat at his throat. He could hear the buzzing of her light saber as they stared each other down.
"You are not our enemy." The armorer said. "You have nothing to fear."
Din leaned close to her ear, he slowly wrapped his hand around her wrist.
"Put it away, Y/n."
She kept glancing over at Paz as the time ticked by, Din was excepted back in and surprisingly so was Bo. Y/n left the cave to go back to the ship, when she heard heavy footsteps fallowing her.
"Not very stealthy, Vizsla."
He got close to Y/n and towered over her.
"If I didn't want you to hear me, you wouldn't have heard me, little one."
Paz began circling her, he leaned in close to her ear. The sound of his voice sending shivers down her spine and heat to her core.
"You have Spirit, I'll give you that. But let's see your reflex's."
Y/n heard the sound of metal, the blue light of her saber shined bright as she swung it at him, hitting him in the beskar. She spun left and hit him with the force, Paz's back hit the cave wall. Y/n ran on to the beach, she looked around in to the night. Vizsla was right behind her as she began running up the beach away from the cave and the ships.
Y/n suddenly heard the sound of a jet pack, she looked up as he landed in front of her. Their weapons clashed together, blue flashes lit up the area for all to see.
Y/n jumped and landed behind him, he turned around only to be pushed to the ground. She held him down with the force as she got on top of him. This man was really big compared to her, if she wasn't a Jedi, she wouldn't stand a chance.
"How is that for reflex's?" She asked.
The same dark chuckle left Paz, Y/n felt his hand slide up her thigh, moving closer to her heat. She sheathed her lightsaber and got off of him, turning to go back to the convert, she suddenly felt the wind get knocked out of her as she was taken to the ground.
Y/n attempted to squirm but he held her down, the weight of Paz sent heat rush to her core. He snaked his hand around her neck and brought her up so her back was against his chest. She could hear his breath in her ear, Paz's grip tightened as he got closer.
"You think you can over power me, little one? Run back to the covert, back to your mandalorian keeper." He whispered.
Y/n got out from under him and ran towards the cave, the nearly crashed into Din but he grabbed a hold of her arms.
"What's wrong?" He asked.
Y/n turned to the entrance of the covert out of breath, she stared for a minute but soon shook her head.
"N- nothing....Nothing, I'm fine."
THE END ❤️
I hope you enjoyed
Reblogs are welcome 🤗
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maybege · 17 days
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What If - Part One
Summary: Tensions between the clans are high so to ease the reclaiming of Mandalore, an old tradition is reintroduced.
Pairing: alpha!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader
Wordcount: 6.0k | Rating: E (18+ only!)
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), finger sucking, oral fixation maybe, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk and loving verbal humiliation, exhibitionism (lite)
Here we are! Last year, April did not go so well for our favourite Big Blue so I decided the only way I can get over it is by rewriting That Episode in a way that I find acceptable. Naturally, that also meant adding A/B/O dynamics.
Joke aside: I love love love my Calmer AU and I love love love it even more if we can pair it with a fix it AU so this is what that is. However, I won’t be super stringent with adhering to the rest of the canon either. Both because I am here for the vibes only atm and also because I still haven’t seen the S3 finale so I have no idea how it actually ends. lol
Anyway, I would be very happy to hear what you think in a comment or a reblog, those really do give me life.
masterlist | crossposted on AO3
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“This is a joke, right? This has to be a joke.”
You watched as Axe Woves, captain of the privateers and the most insufferable alpha you had ever met, looked at Bo-Katan as if she had lost her mind. And to be fair you could not really blame him. When her suggestion had first been made public knowledge, everyone had thought she had lost her mind.
Well, almost everyone.
“You want to reinstall an ancient rule just because these primitives cannot control their emotions?”
“It is not only about them controlling their emotions,” Bo-Katan pointedly interjected, her arms crossed in front of her chest. You had heard a lot about her but the actual experience of seeing her and hearing her speak was … underwhelming. “It is about bringing the tribes closer together.”
The alpha scoffed, clearly unimpressed and you scrunched your nose, not really liking the scent he emitted. As an omega, you were used to having strong-scented alphas all around you but there was a difference between a casual run-in and standing in a small room with the alpha leaders of opposing tribes. The difference being that under any other circumstances, you would have been able to escape the stench of this arrogant alpha.
Now, though, you were stuck between what felt like a rock and a hard place.
“It might be ancient for you but it is not for us,” The Armourer said calmly.
Your eyes flitted to the alpha leader of the clan that you had only gotten to know as a “cult”. She had a very demanding presence, one that almost rivalled that of Briggs. Which you knew he noticed by the way he shifted his weight from one leg to the other.
“What do you think?” Sluice asked you. Briggs was standing next to her, looking as stoic as ever and you knew it had to be serious when they rested their decisions on you. Not that they never asked you for your opinion, you were a respected member of the council, after all, but it was your first term as the voted omega representative and you had relied on their guidance a lot when it came to decision-making – especially on this scale. But now it seemed they were relying on yours.
You looked back at your fellow council member and friend, Chants, who gave you a slight nod.
“I think I would do anything to get us peace,” you said, finally, highly aware that next to your friend you were the only omega in the room and the person who everybody’s eyes rested on, “And the ancient rules lasted for centuries for a reason. They worked then and I cannot think of anything why they would not work now.”
“Maybe because they will use any chance they get to exploit the innocent omegas of other clans.”
You frowned, not liking any of Axe’s implications. Were omegas of Djarin’s tribe not innocent? Did he think you were incapable of defending yourself?
You were about to think of a retort when another alpha across the room stood up from his seat. He was clearly from Djarin’s clan as he was wearing a helmet and smelled so offended, you had to fight the urge not to snap at Woves himself. What startled you most, however, was how big that man was. You had thought him to be standing already with how tall he was and he was even taller when he actually stood up, his figure demanding a lot of space and everybody’s attention.
“I am not sure how you were raised but where I come from we respect our omegas,” he thundered, his voice deep and cracking through the beskar barrier, “And especially our calmers.”
Axe Woves looked as if he was biting his tongue not to say anything and you had to suppress your smile when you saw the strict look on Bo-Katan’s face. She was obviously trying her best to keep everyone in line.
“It is decided, then,” The Armourer announced, “We will collect the names of those willing to be calmers and distribute them amongst our tribes. This is the way.”
*
It did not come as a surprise that the desire to be a calmer in these times was … almost non-existent. You knew Sluice and Briggs did their best to present a united front but it was hard to convince omegas across all clans of something by having their highest-ranking alphas making decisions for them.
Still, given the circumstances, you were glad to find that a decent number of omegas seemed to be at least willing to hear you out.
You and Chants had been the first ones to volunteer, figuring that if you, as omega representatives of the council, chose to volunteer, it might assure other omegas who were still on the fence. And it had a surprisingly positive effect because, from all clans, omegas signed up. And the more omegas signed up, the more they seemed to encourage other omegas to sign up as well.
Soon, the sun had settled over Nevarro and a few fires had been made by which the Mandalorians of all clans huddled together. Crates and ship pieces had been pulled to create some circle-like shapes and make-shift benches and once the foundlings had all been sent to bed, the announcement began.
One after the other, names were drawn, pairing an omega with an alpha. You watched friends, acquaintances and strangers make their way to the centre when their names were called, before walking away together.
When you heard your name called, it was like you were in the clouds. Far away from everything and everyone. Maybe you could still say no, maybe you could just go and disappear forever. What if you were paired with someone horrid? Would people be angry if you decided to leave even though you were the first to volunteer? What if you weren’t good at the whole claiming thing at all and your failure resulted in a war that was to last centuries?
“ … Paz Vizsla.”
The giant of a man stood up and your heart stopped. That was the man from the council meeting, the one who had spoken against Woves. The one whose head had almost touched the ceiling and who was wearing a blaster on his thigh even now. There was nothing on his body that looked as if it could not be used as a weapon. If this was how he was in his home, how hostile was he in places he did not know?
Your heart raced in your chest as you walked towards him, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at you. You felt sick to your stomach and your breathing had to be abnormally loud. What if everyone could hear how nervous you were? How panicked? What if that was reason enough for other volunteers to change their mind and then it was all for nothing?
When your hands touched, his proximity pulled you back down to Nevarro.
You followed him wordlessly to the back of the group, passing a few couples that already seemed to get acquainted. You tried not to look at them, the same way you tried not to look at him for fear that his giant stature would terrify you into leaving.
Paz Vizsla was a warrior through and through and it showed in the way he was sitting too. He took up almost all the space on the little bench and even when he was sitting down and you were standing up, he seemed so much bigger than you.
“Hello,” he said and you were taken aback by how gentle he sounded. He did not look gentle. He looked dangerous. He looked like he could snap you in half. He –
“Hello,” you replied shyly.
He tilted his head and you reminded yourself to look into his visor and not take in his very large presence. Was he as large underneath the plates of armour? What was that colour all about? Did it mean anything?
His hand tugged on yours and it took you a moment to realize he wanted you sit to on his lap.
Careful not to come too close, you perched yourself on his knees even though it resulted in his knee pads digging into your thighs uncomfortably. Ironic, considering you were about to get to know this man in the most intimate ways.
“I don’t bite, you know?” he sounded surprisingly amused, his legs spreading under yours and you squeaked, throwing your arms around his neck to keep your balance.
“I suppose the helmet would make that very hard,” you replied, not thinking about how you wanted to keep this alpha happy and not risk antagonizing him.
But to your surprise, the alpha warrior roared with laughter, sounding nothing like the stern and dangerous man you had imagined. You smiled a little, loosening your grip around his shoulder and allowing yourself to truly rest your weight on him.
“What is your name?” he asked, his big hand running over your back before coming to rest on your lower back. The heat of his touch did not feel unpleasant and you took a deep breath.
“What is it to you?” you asked right back, keeping your tone even as you kept your eyes on the front of the fire where the announcements continued to pair up calmers and alphas.
“Do you not think I should know the name of the omega I am about to make very happy?”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his flat joke but the corners of your mouth tugged up nonetheless. “Aren’t you going to call me omega all the time anyway?”
“Yes, but as an endearment,” he stated, his helmet resting next to your cheek, “Not because I won't know your name.”
That was weirdly touching.
You told him your name, then, and your body shivered as he repeated it in a deep voice.
“I gather you have more experience in this than I do,” you shifted, “What, uh, how … how do we proceed?”
“However we want to,” he replied as if that was not easier said than done, “There are a few things I need to know first, though. Are you here out of your own free will?”
“Of course, I am,” you protested, “I was the one to agree to this whole scheme if you recall, why would I not be here of my own free will?”
“Because I don’t want to hurt you,” his voice was calm and his second hand brushed over your arm up to your neck where you could feel your pulse race, “And because you smelled … hesitant.”
“You can smell me with that helmet on?”
“You would be surprised at the things I can do with that helmet on.”
You raised your eyebrows, feeling your cheeks heat up at the innuendo. This man was nothing like you had imagined at all. He seemed ... funny, oddly enough. And kind in a way you had not expected. And gentle, too, with the way his hold on your body was strong and supportive but certainly loose enough that you could leave any time you wanted to.
“Are you wet?”
“Uh, what?”
His voice dropped an octave and his gloved hand brushed over your neck, barely brushing your scent gland. “Are you wet, omega?” he repeated his question, “Does your body react to my scent? To my voice? To my touch? Do you like the idea of being close to me?”
“Maybe a little bit,” you admitted, shifting your legs and trying to ignore the low pulsing in your core. How could a voice be so enticing in a man? 
“Good,” he grunted, “Open your mouth.”
You did, opening your mouth for him and feeling your heart skip three beats at once. He pulled off his gloves, revealing thick, weathered hands and fingers. There were inked designs on them, tattoos whose meanings you did not know but you wanted to. You wanted to ask him and listen to his stories while putting your nose on his neck, just close enough to the edge of his helmet so you could smell him. And scent him, maybe, if he would let you.
Shocked at your own daydreams, you tried to focus instead on what you could see and not the images your brain came up with. Every one of his fingers had at least one tattooed knuckle but his ring and middle finger had the most designs on them, some of the lines already a little washed out from age. Much like the rest of his body, his hands and fingers were big and thick. And despite your best intentions, your mind instantly wandered to what it would feel like to have them on your body.
“Wider,” he instructed you, his hand flexing, and you glanced around, wanting to make sure that no one else was watching. But you were his calmer and you wanted to calm him. Even if it meant other people saw you in a more vulnerable position than you would prefer.
Not to mention that the way he rumbled out instructions as if you were the best thing in the whole wide galaxy made the wetness between your thighs spread.
Something in his voice made you want to please him and so you pushed out your tongue, just the tiniest bit but it seemed to be enough. “Stars,” he hummed, thick fingers settling on your tongue and pushing down, “I think we are going to have a lot of fun, aren’t we, omega?”
It was instinct to suck on his fingers, coating them in your saliva and you closed your eyes, trying to think one thought at a time. Like how big they were in your mouth and how heavy. How he did not move them at all, before gently pushing down on your tongue. You followed his silent order and opened your mouth again, your eyes fluttering open when you heard the rumble in his chest.
You could not see his eyes through the visor but you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and intense. He did not say anything when he pulled his two fingers away. Your eyes followed the movement, spotting the wet trail that connected them to your bottom lip, still, and found yourself wishing for them back in your mouth.
What had this man done to you?
He put three fingers together, then. His ring, middle and pointer fingers landed on your tongue before pushing inside, deeper than before. You took a deep breath through your nose, feeling the touch tickle at the back of your throat and you swallowed around the digits, trying not to gag.
The alpha hummed, his legs moving and thus jostling you in his lap. He pulled his fingers away again and you whined, your mouth following him as if you could pull his fingers back by the power of sheer will alone.
Heat collected in your cheeks and between your thighs at the realization that you liked this. You liked him in charge.
You looked around nervously, trying to gauge if anyone had seen this moment of weakness. And it seemed that no one had, except for the alpha that had put you in this position in the first place. “No one is watching us,” he assured you, pushing his fingers back in your mouth, “No one is looking at you, omega. Wanna know how I know?”
Relaxing your throat so he could get his fingers deeper, seemed to be answer enough.
He tilted his head, a pleased hum leaving him when you swirled your tongue around his fingers. “Because everybody knows I don’t share my omega, and that includes seeing how beautiful you look drooling on my fingers like it is my cock.”
His fingers were pulled from your mouth again, only to be pushed back in and you realised what he was doing. “Open your mouth for me again, sweetheart,” he said, “Let me see how good you take my fingers.” Like they are my cock.
It remained unsaid but the thought that he was … fucking your throat with his fingers made you wetter than you would have admitted. But you opened your mouth for him nonetheless, letting him see how his fingers glided over your tongue, playing with it before pulling out, dragging over your bottom lip and leaving a drooly mess behind.
“Thank the stars it was you,” he whispered, running his wet fingers over your lips, “I hoped it would be you.”
His words caused something in you to stir. Confusion, mostly, but also a feeling of flattery that he seemed to have noticed you before. That it wasn’t just duty for him. That, maybe, it wasn’t just duty for you. Not when he caused your blood to stir like that with just his fingers in your mouth.
“Can you open your dress for me and still be comfortable, omega?” he asked, his voice almost drowned out by the crackling of the fire, “I want to claim you once out in the open. So everyone can see what a good calmer you are.”
“What if I’m not though?” you heard yourself ask. Your voice sounded way too small to your liking, not at all teasing and flirting like you wanted to but insecure and a little hoarse from where he had been using your throat.
“I know you are,” the alpha replied steadily, his thumb pressing into your bottom lip, “I know it from the way you try to be so good to me. Know it from the way you don’t recoil from me. Do you have any idea how long it has been since I smelled someone as beautiful as you?”
Beautiful, his voice echoed in your head and you looked at him with wide eyes, the desire to touch him growing stronger.
“To be honest,” he murmured, his fingers running over your cleavage, playing with the top button of your dress, “I don’t think I ever smelled an omega that I wanted to claim as much as you.”
“Then you haven’t met many omegas,” you replied, trying to ignore your trembling hands as you undid your dress. The fabric fell open on your middle and you could see the way his chest moved a little heavier.
“Stand up,” he instructed you, meddling with a little pouch on his thigh. Your eyes fell to the where his legs had shuffled apart even more. He was not wearing a codpiece, you noticed, and the bulge in his pants was huge. Or, when it came to him, proportional.
At the thought of him putting that … thing inside you, you squeezed your thighs together. You had never been with an alpha before, and certainly not an aloha of that kind of size. Not even your toys to help you through your heats were this big.
“What is that?” you asked, watching as he pulled a little tube out of his pocket.
“Lube,” he explained, holding the little bottle up, “I am big and I don’t want to hurt you.”
Your entire body tingled with desire and you shuffled your legs again. The cool evening breeze reminded you of your state of undress and you glanced around nervously.
“No one is watching,” he reminded you. “Now,” he put the bottle down next to him, petting his thighs, “Up you go.”
Your dress fell open and just like that, you were completely bare to him. It did not make you as nervous as you had thought it would. Knowing this strange man was looking at you, touching you, did not fill you with a sense of dread. Because he did not feel like a stranger. He felt … familiar.
The way Paz Vizsla was touching you only made your entire body thrum with pleasure, like he knew exactly just where you were most sensitive.
His bare fingers brushed over your chin, down your neck, between your breasts down your middle until they just barely grazed your folds. You rocked your hips, just the slightest bit, to get him closer but the alpha pulled his fingers away.
Then he repeated the motion, touching you but avoiding the places where you wanted – needed – him most.
Your mouth fell open, your tongue slipping out in a moment of weakness. But as soon as you noticed what you were doing, you closed it again, hoping he had not seen it. But of course, he had.
The warrior chuckled. “You want my fingers back in your mouth, don’t you?”
You swallowed, your eyes flicking to the tree line behind him in the hopes that he could not see the embarrassment so clearly written on your face.
“This is not the time to be shy,” he reminded you, his fingers tipping your chin up. You knew he was looking at you, could feel the weight of his gaze on you. And you also knew that he knew the answer already. There was no denying it. So, you nodded.
“Good girl,” he praised you, “Open your mouth for me again.”
Pushing out your tongue as he pushed his fingers back in your mouth, you allowed yourself to really enjoy it this time. Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked on them and it did not take long before you wrapped your arms around his neck in an effort to get closer to him. With you straddling him – and wearing barely anything – the cool night air made you feel cold and exposed.
Until his other hand was on your pussy again.
When his fingers brushed over your clit, gathering the wetness between your folds, your entire body tensed. His fingers felt thick and calloused, a stark contrast to what your own fingers felt like and you breathed through the initial stretch of having two of them pushed inside you. Your toes tingled with pleasure as he edged them deeper and deeper, his movements slow and controlled until you felt like you were blinded by pleasure.
He crooked his digits inside you, rubbing over a spot you could only reach on the rare occasion that you took a lot of time for yourself.
Now though, it seemed like it was effortless for him.
“Paz,” you mumbled around his digits, your voice muffled.
“Deep breaths,” he instructed, “Open up for me, sweetheart, let me in that pussy.”
Surprisingly enough, his words got you to relax and you sucked on his fingers again. Focussing on the weight and the feel of them on your tongue like he was not fingering you surrounded by dozens of people. No one is looking at me, you remembered his words and they felt safe. They felt true.
He kept moving his fingers, working you until three thick digits were stretching you further than you had ever been stretched before. Your walls were already fluttering around him and you could feel the wetness seeping down his hand.
“You're ready,” he stated, pulling his fingers from your pussy and your mouth. You were not sure which loss you mourned more.
You looked down between you, observing as he opened his pants, freeing his cock to your eyes. He was big, that was no surprise. But it was a surprise how thick he was. His shaft bobbed between you, the weight of it almost dropping him down.
How is that supposed to fit inside me? you wanted to ask How am I supposed to take this?
His hand wrapped around himself, pumping his shaft a few times and before you knew what you were doing, you reached out, your fingertips brushing over the head of him. He felt hot and soft. Paz groaned, the sound beautiful in your ears, and his hand reached for yours, helping your hand wrap around him.
Your fingers barely met around him and you let him guide your hand up and down his shaft, letting him direct the strength of your grip. “Stars, that feels good,” he murmured, moving so his cock bumped against your folds, running it through them again and again until it met your clit. You jerked at the touch, your pussy clenching.
Deciding to take matters into your own hands – literally – you continued to hold his cock, rubbing your thumb just under his head before grinding on top of him. The touch of him against your wetness was everything you needed as you started to rub yourself against him. Your breath came faster and you could feel how dripping wet and needy you were for him.
And Paz felt it too.
He seemed completely at ease and if it were not for his rock-hard erection between you, you would have wondered if he had been affected by you at all. But when you whimpered once again as his head rubbed over your clit, you could see his hand reaching for the little bottle of lube, squirting a generous amount of fluid on his fingers before reaching between you and spreading it on himself.
“You ready, omega?” he asked you and you could not nod quickly enough.
With a racing heart and a dripping pussy, you lifted yourself up to your knees, the wood of the bench digging into your joints. But you could not care less as your pebbled nipples pressed against the cold beskar of his armour and he leant back, allowing you to rest your weight onto him.
This position gave you almost all the control and you appreciated it. You appreciated it even more when his warm hand slipped under the dress covering your back, landing just above your butt.
 “Go on,” he encouraged you, holding his shaft for you, his tip breaching your entrance as you first started lowering yourself into him.
“Oh shit,” you gasped, sinking down on him a little more, “A-alpha, you’re – you're –“
“Big, I know,” he teased you, his fingers digging into your back, “But you can take me, sweet omega, I know you can.”
And you did.
It took minuscule thrusts and encouraging hums paired with his thumb drawing circles into your skin but when you felt his thigh plates under your legs, you were fuller than ever before. Not even the toys you had to keep you company through your heat filled you like this.
And yet here you were, seated on the biggest cock you had ever taken, facing a faceless alpha whose hands had shifted to your hips, his fingers brushing circles into your skin as if he was just as in awe of what was happening as you were.
“There we fucking go,” he praised you, his voice gentle even through the helmet, “Look at you, taking such a big cock almost all the way.”
The glow of the fire was warm against your back. You felt tense and full, your body constantly trying to adjust to his size. With how your legs were spread around him, you felt like you were barely holding on and you did not know how you could possibly take him to the base.
Which was exactly what you said.
But Paz only chuckled, the sound warm and you sighed when one of his hands drifted up to your neck, brushing over your scent gland. Your back bowed in pleasure and you took a deep breath in, tilting your head so your nose could run over his wrist. His scent was spicy and comforting and you breathed in deeply, feeling your thighs relax.
The alpha beneath you made a soothing noise, his thumb brushing over your scent gland again, just enough to have you clenching on his cock.
“Relax, omega,” he whispered, his helmet tilting forward, “Relax for me.”
“Easier said than done,” you murmured, tightening your arms around him, “I’ve – stars, I’ve never felt so full.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” he rumbled and you snorted out a laugh. You could smell how pleased he was with himself for the joke and you leaned forward, burying your head in his neck and in his scent.
“I bet I can make you take it all the way,” he said, his hand on your back pushing you just a little bit closer.
“Feeling cocky, huh?” your joke ended in a hiss as you wiggled your hips, his cock shifting inside you.
“One could say that,” he rumbled, jerking his hips as if to prove his point, “So what do you say? Wanna take the bet?”
“What do I get if I win?”
“You get to come.”
“And if you win?”
“I get to make you come.”
“Seems like a win-win,” you gasped, trying your hardest to lift yourself up. Your legs were straining with the effort and despite how wet you were, he was big inside you and any movement felt like it would end you in the best way.
Paz put his hand between you, his fingertips gently circling your clit. Another hiss left your lips and you could feel your walls clamping around him. Or trying to clamp around him. He was so big it felt like all you could do was simply sit there and take whatever he gave you.
Another shift, You could feel his legs move beneath you and you squeaked in surprise when he spread them further apart, your weight suddenly no longer supported by his legs. You tightened your grip around his neck shifting just that much lower on his shaft that had your walls pulsing.
His big hands gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, helping you stay up. It took you a second to realize that he wanted you to relax like this, that he wanted to help carry your weight like this, and you frowned.
“Trust me,” he murmured as if he could read your mind, “Let me lead, omega, I promise it will feel good.”
Before you could protest, he started to move you, lifting you up until only the tip of him remained in you. Your fingers dug into his until you could feel the blood leaving your knuckles. But Paz did not let you fall. Instead, he slowly sank you down again, just a little bit, before lifting you up again.
You gasped out a breath, his slow and shallow thrusts opening you up for more. Soon, the first few inches did not feel like they could ever be enough and when you wriggled your hips in his grip he let you sink lower until you felt like there was nowhere left to go.
“See?” he whispered, grinding you down on his cock, your clit rubbing against him, “This is how you relax, omega, all you needed was a little help to take my cock all the way.”
“Alpha,” you whimpered, trying to get him to move, “Please – please –“
“You know what I think?” he asked you his voice cool as ever as he moved you on his cock, “I think you don’t even want to win the bet,” he revealed, the coolness of the beskar against your cheek, “I think all you want is to come on my fat cock and get all cock drunk on me.”
“I have,” you gasped, your body opening up for him even more, “I have never been cock drunk.”
“First time for everything,” he teased, his hands gripping the back of your thighs even tighter, “Now rub your pretty clit for me,” he instructed, “Let me work you on my cock and you get to come all over me, hm?”
It was not difficult to get your fingers on your pussy, working yourself into a frenzy that was only helped by the way he lifted you up and down on his cock like it was no work at all. You felt like a toy almost, in his hands, letting him move you this and that way so that his cock hit a spot inside you that made you see stars.
The squelching noises told you how wet you were and they made you even wetter still. It had never been like this for you, giving up the control of your pleasure and yet you did not want it to change. On the contrary, you wanted to revel in it.
You wanted to see how big he was inside you, wanted to see how he split you open, how small you were against him, how his knot would swell against you. The images made you clench around him and the man underneath you let out a grunt, his hips thrusting up against you.
His movement hindered yours and so you decided to relax against him, leaving everything completely up to him except for the fingertips working on yourself.
His thrusts were forceful and your tits bounced with the movement. Your fingers continued to circle your clit and you could feel yourself edging closer and closer to your release.
“Prettiest omega that ever sat on my cock,” he praised you, “I can already tell you were made to calm me. Made to take my cock.”
“Y-Yes,” you nodded eagerly, thinking of how the next days were going to be filled with nothing but taking his cock over and over and over again. Stars, you were lucky.
“Are you gonna be good for me?” he asked, working his, “Are you going to take my cock like a good little calmer? Sit on my knot all day? Take my come when I need you to?”
With your mouth open in a silent moan, you could only nod again. You had never felt like this before, this free and shameless. Like all that mattered was your pleasure and his because you felt like his pleasure would give you more than you had ever imagined.
The images his words caused in you made your walls pulse even more. You could see yourself spending most of your days just like this, full of his cock and breathing in his scent. Or kneeling between his legs, trying to swallow all the he could give you.
It was no surprise that with your fingers on your clit, his fantasies in your ears and his cock in your pussy, you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching. And with the way his fingers tightened on you, he was close too.
“Want me to come inside you or on your face?” he asked, his voice sounding hoarse, “Or I could come on this pretty pussy? Make you play with it?”
“Inside,” you gasped, throwing your head back when his thrusts started to speed up, “Stars, please – please inside me.”
His groan slipped from under his helmet and when he hit a particular spot inside you, your vision went white. You could feel your walls spasm around him as pleasure rippled throughout your entire body. Everything tingled, from your head to your toes, and something shifted, like the world was suddenly … different.
Paz’s hands held you down on him, burying himself as deeply inside you as he could and as you sagged against him, your chest against his beskar chest, you could feel him pulse inside you.
He really was filling you to the brim.
Where before you had hardly been able to focus on what was going on around you, now you were only left with your heartbeat in your ears and the silence between you.
Hone hand swept over your back, up to the back of your neck and you leaned into his touch.
“How was that?” he asked quietly, his fingers once again seeking out that sensitive spot under your ear, “How are you feeling?”
You ran your nose over his scent gland, taking comfort in the smell that was already becoming familiar. The contact made him twitch inside you, again and again, and you swore you felt another spurt of come filling you.
“Tired,” you admitted against the fabric of his undershirt, “Tired and full and great and …” you trailed off, taking in another breath, “Good. I feel good.”
His body shook under yours in a warm chuckle. “I’m glad,” he replied, “Though it sounds like you need a good night’s sleep before the meetings tomorrow.”
“Sleep sounds good,” you mumbled, “Sleep sounds wonderful.”
“Let me get you to your bunk, then, love,” he whispered, gently untangling himself from you. “I will see you in the morning.”
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gatorbites-imagines · 4 months
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Paz vizsla x FTM reader please? :3
Paz Vizsla x ftm reader
Headcanons
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A shorty but a goody, some Mandalorian culture headcanons mixed in here.
I always had a headcanon that the true mandalorians didn’t have much issue with gender, you just presented however you wanted, and it was no one’s business but your own.
Now, deathwatch and the new mandalorians I think are different, deathwatch were just extremists in most ways, and the new mandalorians were trying too hard to be like the core worlds, so they might have looked at gender more judgingly.
But after the purges and mandalorians having to go underground, they didn’t have time to judge others self-expression, since everyone worried too much about surviving.
That means that Paz doesn’t treat you any differently because of your gender, not at all. In the beginning it probably causes some doubt inside you with how little he seems to care about it, since he doesn’t ask questions or act confused.
Hes just immediately accepting, doesn’t ask why you feel a certain way, or makes you explain your discomfort or experiences to him. If you say you are a certain gender, who is he to judge or decide.
The amount of treatment you get done doesn’t matter either, whether you get hormone treatments and surgeries, or get nothing done at all and don’t wear binders. You’ll still be his boyfriend, how you look doesn’t matter, all that matters to him is that you are comfortable with who you are.
Because of the whole thing that mandalorians don’t have time to worry about anyone elses gender, it also means every other part of the covert just treats you how you present yourself, no questions asked.
The only one who seems to give a shit, is the medic or doctor, as its their duty to know these things and make sure you are healthy, or gives you your hormone treatment if you need it. If you need surgeries, you probably need to get it done somewhere else, as they don’t have the resources for that stuff.
This causes some stress in Paz, and he would want to go with you, but he also knows its dangerous if he does. If Din is still around at this point, he goes with you and brings you back to the covert as quickly and safely as possible.
Paz is the best caretaker in the recovering period if you need it, as he treats it like any type of battle scar, since that’s what it is to him. He just sees it as a symbol that you are becoming who you want to be, plus, scars are very attractive to him.
You can expect him to be able to switch pronouns immediately if you tell him, as pronouns don’t carry much meaning or importance to him since mando’a is pretty gender-neutral language-wise.
He will find a way to get you a binder if you need one, but you must also accept that he is gonna nag you about it and make sure you never wear it longer than necessary. If you as much as dare to sleep in it, he’s cutting it right off you and taking away binder privileges because you are harming yourself.
Paz is also great when you have dysphoric days, as there is no chance of him misgendering you or treating you in ways that make you dysphoric. He goes out of his way to help you out in whatever ways you need, wanting to make you happy and safe.
All in all, he’s a great partner to have as a trans person. Paz can be quite stoic at times, and doesn’t speak a whole lot, but he cares deeply, and finds ways to show it.
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sofasoap · 1 year
Text
Update:
14/Apr/24 - Malen`kaya printsessa - Nikolai x F!reader
24/Mar/24 - At the Barber - John Price x F!Reader
26/Feb/24 - Te Amo - Alejandro Vargas x F!reader 24/Dec/24 - Christmas Love - CoD OCs + Side Gaz x F!reader
26/Nov/23- Lastochka AU - Seven Seas - 1 - Nikolai x F!reader
12/Nov/23 - Audentes Fortuna Luvat - Freya "Mini" MacTavish and Vladimir Makarov
09/Nov/23- Lastochka - in the hanger - Nikolai x F!reader
23/Oct/23 - Teddy bear -2 - John Price x F!Reader
21/Oct/23 - Lastochka AU - Strange tribulation - Nikolai x F!reader
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The Mandalorians
- Din Djarin
- Paz Vizsla
Call of Duty
- König
- Simon "Ghost" Riley
- John Price
- John "Soap" MacTavish
- Kyle "Gaz"Garrick
- Nikolai
-Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra
Sofasoap's Fic Rec (will be updated irregularly)
Credit: all headers and dividers are created by lovely @saradika
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corazondebeskar-reads · 6 months
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Kinktober 2023 - Day 7 (Din Djarin & Paz Vizsla)
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For Manda'yaim
Din Djarin x f!reader, Paz Vizsla x f!reader, other unnamed COTW Mandalorians x f!reader
Word Count: 1.7k
Summary: Now that they have reclaimed their homeworld, the Children of the Watch resurrect an ancient ritual to secure the future of their people. Reader is one of the volunteers chosen to bear the next generation of Mando'ade.
Warnings: Dub-con, CNC, Reader is consenting but unable to withdraw consent, Bondage, Gangbang, Drugged sex, Unconscious sex, Anonymous sex, Children of the Watch are a cult, cult behavior, ritual sex, breeding, breeding rituals, creampies, unrealistic amounts of cum, vaginal plugging, p in v, gratuitous use of Mando'a, religious imagery, no y/n
Inspired by @absurdthirst's Kinktober 2023 prompt list
also on ao3
The chamber is cold. It is deep in the belly of the mines, and not even the fire in the hearth can warm the small waiting area. Your beskar’gam, save for your helmet, is tucked away in the wardrobe, and you’ve donned the gauzy black shift left folded neatly on the shelf. Now, all you can do is wait.
You don’t have to wait long. The door to the main room slides open. The Armorer stands in the doorway, intimidating as ever, though you do not fear your alor. She says nothing, but you follow her out into the ceremonial chamber.
It’s domed, completely crafted of smooth, dark stone. She brings you to stand on the bridge before the chamber’s enormous entrance. The bridge rises from the hall outside but is seamless where it turns to obsidian. Even the stone dais in the center looks like the room was carved around it.
Stripped away to reveal the greater purpose beneath.
The bridge leads into the water rather than over. The slow flow of the stream encircles the center platform, but to cross, one must enter the shallow pool at the foot of the path.
The Armorer stands at the edge of the water. Your heart is pounding so loud you think you can hear it echo in the chamber.
“Do you wish to proceed?” she asks, lilting voice as commanding and regal as you remember.
“I do.” You hope your faith rings solid beneath the waver of your voice.
If she doubts you, she does not show it.
“Very well. Do you willingly offer your vessel to the Ka’ra, to accept the manda within you, for Manda’yaim?”
Will you let the kings of old grant you the very essence of your people for the good of Mandalore? Of course. “Oya manda.”
“Oya manda,” she agrees, something warm seeping from under her cold, unmoving composition. “Step forward.”
You do, bare feet brushing softly against stone, until you are within reach. Her hands find the lip of your helmet and unlatch the seal, lifting its heft from your neck. Frigid air creeps up, but you shiver more from being exposed than the cold.
She holds your helmet in one arm and steps back into the water. You follow, surprised to find it generously warm. As you settle on your knees, the water lapping up to your waist serves as a balm to your nerves.
You take the curved pot from her other hand when offered and drink of the hot tea within before sinking it below the stream at your knees. The water rushes into it, desperate to fill the gap it left behind. When you raise it, the excess flows over your fingers.
The drink has settled in your core, warmth flooding your veins. You will leave the fears behind there, to be swept from the chamber on the ebb and flow.
The Armorer takes it and holds it aloft. “None shall see your face but I, and when you leave these waters, you will be granted cin vhetin.”
She tilts the pot, warm water rushing down your face.
“Vor entye,” you pledge as the last rivulets drip down, looking at the Armorer through sodden lashes.
“You owe no debt,” she corrects. “It is the reward for your sacrifice. Rise.”
You stand and follow her onto the platform. A thick pad is laid atop the tall stone table. You shed the robe and take comfort in that she sees your bareness as devotion and not transgression.
The haze of the tincture that laced the tea nestles around you. Like when your buir used to carry you to bed after long days of training, when you didn’t last through the songs around the fire past twilight. You climb onto the table, and your body is pliant as she secures it into place.
The thick straps are for your safety, not imprisonment. They keep you tethered to the table and to Manda’yaim while your soul drifts between realms. You pray the Ka’ra won’t find you lacking.
You are secured on your knees, spread wide, and your arms forward in supplication. Your head is held bowed, and the veil is secured to the restraint.
The expanse of the galaxy is settling in around you. You don’t fight it when your vision fades.
There are two men in the room. Two of your vod. They wear no helmets and will be cleansed in the pools before returning to the surface. But no barriers can be permitted between you, and the chamber is sacred.
They don’t look at one another out of respect. They will come and go in pairs, taking turns to feed your womb and ensure your safety.
The Mand’alor is the first to give sacrament at your altar. When the doors are shut, he lifts his helm and anoints himself from the sleek pot. Behind him, Paz remains concealed. He will not shed his helmet until it is his turn, and so he will remain on the bridge to stand guard.
As Din crosses the waters, he pauses to take in your prone form. The swell of your ass in the air, the arch of your spine. The sweet, tender core of you, softly parted for him. He reaches up to run his fingers through your folds. There’s a light dew, there, but you are not ready.
“Don’t tell me this is your first, vod’ika,” Paz calls.
Din disregards the taunt, stroking through your lips until he finds the gem at your apex. With one hand gently rubbing your cheek, he spreads you open a little more and tastes.
“I don’t think that’s generally part of the process,” Paz notes.
“Shut up, vod,” Din sighs. “Should we not be grateful and ease the passage? Besides, she’s sweet. You’ll miss out.”
“I’ll have my turn,” Paz says gruffly.
“Ah, but only after she tastes of me.” Din grins smugly when Paz groans.
“Get on with it. I want to spend as little time with your naked shebs as possible.”
Din returns his lips to your cunt. He could admit he was being a little selfish, but he truly did want to shoulder some of your burden. Couldn’t leave his martyr to suffer. You or the others who had volunteered to bear the future of their planet.
When he’s certain you can take him without difficulty, he withdraws his mouth and fingers, though savoring the way you linger on his tongue.
When he sinks into you, the pleasure he had coaxed from your body eases his way. You accept him, welcome his offering, and he can’t help but devote his attentions to your pliant flesh. Soft moans slip through your peaceful exhalations. Your warm cunt clenches around him, your hips gently rocking back to meet him. You serve your Mand’alor even in sleep, and he bathes you in praise.
You’re submerged. You swim in the Living Waters, and breathe it in as easy as the air. The voices on the surface are low and rumbling, and you drift lower, free to explore, knowing your vod are on the shore. They won’t let you drown. The water is so dark, but when light breaks through, the beskar veins beneath you are all alight.
There is pressure all around you, like a cradle. And you are so, so full. You think maybe the Waters will keep you, consume you. The current fills you, and you let it sink you down, down, down.
Back in the pool at the foot of the dais, Din cleanses his cock of you, but not his soul.
He slides the helmet back over his head and gives a nod to Paz. “For Manda’yaim.”
“For Manda’yaim,” Paz dips his head to Din. When the Mand’alor turns to respect his vod’s wishes, he removes the helmet.
They are both grave now. Bare, but more encumbered than while clad in full beskar'gam. All teasing and taunting has been swept away in the meandering stream.
Not to be outdone by Din, Paz also brings you to your peak with his lips and tongue against your clit. He doesn’t dare lick into you, not out of an aversion to his vod’s taste, but to preserve as much of the Mand’alor’s seed in you as possible.
Paz is broader than his vod’ika in all ways. He expects to find some resistance when he enters you, but the tightness and heat almost make him spill early. That wouldn’t do, not when he would have to hear about it for all of eternity.
He’s brash and impulsive but never uncaring, so his fingers seek your clit as Din’s had. But as he finds a steady rhythm, an unbidden sadness blossoms in his chest.
He’s fairly certain he knows who you are, though he shouldn’t dwell on it. And though he holds no anger to the rest of his vod who will make their tributes to you today, he does wish you’d told him. Or Djarin.
They could have had you, just the two of them, if that’s what you wanted. And who better to gift you a life than the Mand’alor and his General?
Despite the undercurrent of regret, he feels proud. Proud that his vod’ika would give herself to the tribe, would sing the oldest song of their people, and receive nothing less than pure manda in reward. And the image of you, belly round beyond your beskar, sends him over the edge, fingers digging into your hips as he fills you.
It’s long after the sun has set when the Armorer and the Mand’alor return to the chamber. It matters not, as no light can reach you in the depths under the sacred city. This time, when Din approaches the dais, he is fully armored, helmet in place. He takes a box from the Armorer and opens it to reveal the sizeable, solid beskar plug and lifts it from the silky cushion.
You’re overflowing, your body simply unable to contain the twenty or so loads you were offered, their consecrations dripping obscenely from your red, swollen cunt. You jerk against the bonds and moan, half pleasure and half agony, when he parts your lips with one hand—the only part of him left bare.
The plug finds no resistance, but it does displace some of the cum, oozing down your leg. No matter, Din thinks. Most of it remains, and he’s certain he will not have been spilled, not with his seed at the deepest of your core. When the plug is in place, he uses the pot to cleanse you, to bring you back to the surface.
When you begin to stir, he leaves.
Mando'a translations (in order of appearance): Manda'yaim - the planet Mandalore Beskar'gam - Beskar armor alor - leader Ka'ra - the stars/ancient Kings from Mandalorian mythology Manda - the collective Mandalorian soul Oya manda - a Mandalorian saying showing eternal solidarity cin vhetin - a blank slate (here used to indicate that the removal of the helmet is forgiven for this ritual) Vor entye - formal "thank you" carrying a debt of gratitude buir - parent Vod - brothers/sisters (in arms/loyalty, not literal) Mand'alor - the ruler of the Mandalorians Vod'ika - little brother Shebs - ass (Source: mandoa.org)
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