#Paz x reader

[bitchin-beskar]

besties, I was seized by an idea late this evening, and I physically could not settle until I wrote out a concept piece (paz x reader au)

The blindfold obscured your vision, but did nothing to dampen the sounds of jeers from your fellow townspeople as they gleefully dragged you forward. You stumbled, tripping over your skirt as your bare feet ached from the cuts and bruises inflicted from your run through the forest and subsequent night in the town’s jail cell.

Your captors jerked to a halt, almost causing you to fall on your face. They weren’t gentle as they shoved you up onto a platform of some kind. Your back was pushed up roughly against what felt like a thick wooden pole. One of the men grabbed the tail of the rope that bound your wrists and yanked it up above your heat, tying it to something above your head, so you were restrained even further. Another wrapped what felt like dozens of cords of rope around your waist, anchoring you tightly to the pole behind you.

The rough, frayed rope rubbed your skin raw, though you tried to blink back the tears that threatened to fall. Once the men seemed certain you would not be able to escape, they stepped back, and loud thunks began to sound all around you, as though people were throwing something at your feet. Suddenly, there was a looming presence, and a dark, slimy voice at your ear sending shivers of terror down your spine.

“This all could’ve been avoided, witch. If you’d just done what I asked, it wouldn’t have come to this,” he sneered, and you tried to shy away, but your bonds wouldn’t let you. Nevertheless, you tried to keep up a brave facade.

“Never.”

You had no warning before his palm cracked loudly against your cheek, the sharp edges of his ring tearing a gash in your skin. You bit back a gasp, but traitorous tears began to dampen the blindfold. You’d recognized the voice as belonging to Captain Vikar Carid, the town’s sherrif.

His looming presence disappeared, and a new voice called loudly for more logs.

“PLEASE, NO!”

You flinched at the voice that rung out in the air, not at the volume, but at the sheer terror that colored that familiar tone.

“Missus Von Batton, it’s alright,” a sickly sweet voice tried to soothe, but she would not be calmed.

“SHE’S NO WITCH, YOU HERETICS!” the herbalist screamed, and the sound of your guardian’s voice so broken just shattered something inside you. “I RAISED THAT GIRL, IF SHE’S A WITCH, SO THEN AM I!”

The voices all grew quiet, and you felt something cold and terrible wrap its claws around your heart. As terrified as you were, you’d face your trial by fire with as much dignity as you could muster. But if they put Missus Hilde up here beside you…

“Missus Von Batton, do calm yourself, my dear.” A condescending voice rung out. “Once the witch is dead, the spell she’s cast over you will disappear, and you will be back to your old self. It’s really better for everyone.”

You recognized this speaker too. The “Honorable” Iviin Lok, the judge of your town’s court, and the one who had declared you guilty and sentenced your execution for dawn of the following day.

Missus Hilde screamed again, and you heard Mister Lok command her to be taken from the square and sequestered in her home, so as not to “distress” her further.

The sounds of logs thudding to the ground all around you continued for some untold amount of time, until finally, the horrid sound ceased.

Even though you were blindfolded, you let your eyes fall shut. You knew what was coming next, and you tried to steel yourself. It was the most difficult task you’d ever undertaken, but you were determined to go forth from this life with as much dignity as you could muster.

Chants started up all around you, voices crying out for your execution.

Witch! They jeered.

Burn her! They screeched.

End her cursed life! They howled.

You heard the telltale sound of flint striking steel, and the distinct sound of kerosene-soaked cloth going up in flames. You could picture the scene in your mind’s eye.

The Captain, standing there, torch in hand, his hateful eyes glaring upon your immobile form.

Your accusers, your bullies for all your six-and-twenty years of life, watching with barely disguised glee at your predicament.

The men you’d scorned, who wanted to fuck the “pretty flower” from the woods, sneering in disgust at your battered and bruised body.

Their wives, jealous rage finally cooled by the perverted sense of “justice” taking place, eagerly awaiting your death.

You knew the second the torch touched the mountain of logs and kindling at your feet, for a great roar swept through the crowd, feet stamping and hands clapping. You bit your lip to stop a whimper from escaping.

All you could do was wait for the flames to reach you, and hope that you passed out from the pain before you felt the fire consume your flesh inch by inch.

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE MAND’ALOR IS GOING ON HERE?”

Abruptly, the crowd fell silent, and all you could hear was the crackling of the wood catching fire.

It was silent for a moment, then two, and then the voice boomed once again, rattling your very bones.

“RELEASE MY WIFE FROM THAT PYRE, IMMEDIATELY.”

…

Wait a second.

Wife?

pls, pls, pls tell me what y'all think, I can't tell if this is actually interesting or not

tagging some moots bc why not: @catsnkooks, @firstofficerwiggles, @tailorvizsla, @maybege, @lilhawkeye3, @mysticalgalaxysalad

[flightlessangelwings]

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!

~

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. 

[vodika-vibes]

Different Worlds - Part 1

Story Summary:  A chance meeting between you and a man you had no right ever meeting might change the face of Mandalore forever. Of course, you have to survive first.

Chapter Summary: As one of the few traditional blacksmiths who live in Sundari, it's not unusual for you to work long days and even longer nights. There is honor in your position, even though you can't forge the traditional tools of your people without being arrested. A long night turns even longer when you're "invited" to a one-on-one meeting with Duchess Satine.

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x F!Reader

Word count: 2038

Warnings: I have opinions about the New Mandalorians and none of them are good. Just, FYI.

A/N: So this is a self-indulgent project that I'm slowly working on, that's going to involve a lot of Mandalorian characters, including Boba Fett, Bo-Katan Kryze, and Satine Kryze. It's also solidly an AU. I won't be tagging anyone in this, because it is going to be very different than my usual stuff. Well, unless you specifically ask. This story will be posted under my Mandalorian masterlist, with it's own masterlist.

Clang

Clang

Clang

There’s something peaceful about working the forge. When you’re creating, there’s nothing else in the galaxy. It’s just you, your hammer, and the metal you're forming under your hands.

When you’re working, there’s no civil war. There are no politicians making things worse. There’s no worry about food or housing.

All you have to worry about is where to strike next.

If your parents had elected to move anywhere other than Sundari or had backed anyone other than the New Mandalorians, you would be rolling in money.

But they didn’t.

And what use does Sundari have for an Armorer?

“Sister?”

You wince when you hear your younger sister’s voice. She’s only eight, it’s not her fault that she doesn’t know any Mando’a. Mother and Father refuse to teach her, and they refuse to let you teach her.

If only babuir was still alive. 

“What’s up, kid?” You ask as you stop hammering for a moment, to critically eye the cane you’ve been working on for the better part of a week.

“Mama wants to know if you’re coming to dinner?”

“What’s for dinner?”

“Um…Nerf burgers and fried tubers, I think. Papa was firing up the grill.”

You push your goggles up off your eyes to eye your younger sister critically, “Father can’t grill, Nymmie.”

She scratches her cheek, “Well, he wants to try.”

“I’m going to pass, I think. I need to finish this tonight.”

Nym ventures further into the forge, carefully lifting the hem of her skirt so it doesn’t drag against the soot-covered floor. You really should invest in a cleaning droid.

“What are you working on?”

You glance at her, and then shift to hold it up for her to examine, “What’s it look like to you?”

Nymmie tilts her head to the side as she scans the metal in your hand, “Um…a cane?”

You favor her with a bright smile, “Good job! That’s exactly what it is. Maybe you have the makings of a blacksmith too.” You tease.

Nymmie scrunches up her nose, “No, thank you. It’s too messy.”

You laugh, “You should have seen grandfather’s forge back in Keldabe, the floor was dirt.”

She gives a dramatic shudder, “I’m going to work in a building. With climate control.” She announces, “And then I’m gonna get rich and you’re never gonna have to work again.”

You flick a gloved finger at the smaller girl, “Don’t let Mother hear you say gonna or she’ll tan your hide.”

“I’m not stupid, sister,” Nymmie pauses, “Are you sure you don’t want to come to dinner?”

“Positive.”

She pauses again, “Mama didn’t mean what she said.”

“Then she shouldn’t have said it.” You counter as you pull your goggles back over your eyes, “I’m not working this weekend, if you want you can pop over and we’ll go to the botanical garden.”

Nymmie’s face brightens, “Alright! That sounds fun!” She turns and runs towards the door, pausing once she’s on the street, “Love you!”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too. Beat it, kid.”

As soon as you’re alone, you turn towards the fire and add more air to make it flare back to life.

Time to go back to work.

You work through the afternoon, and well after the sun sets. In fact, you don’t stop working until you put the final touches on the cane. It’s only then that you lay the cane on the workbench and send an automated message to the man who commissioned it, informing him that he can pick it up at lunchtime the following day.

Seeing as it’s nearly midnight by this point, you seriously consider leaving your mess to deal with in the morning. But you also know better. If you leave it for the morning, it’s never going to get cleaned.

So, grudgingly, you grab a rag and start cleaning.

By the time you finish, properly finish, it’s nearly 2 am and you’re practically dead on your feet. Your entire body aches from all of the work you’ve done today. Strong as you are, overwork still makes your muscles ache.

Finally, you step out of the shop and lock the door behind you while you roll your aching shoulders.

All you want is to go home, have a quick dinner, an even quicker shower, and sleep until 11 am.

So, the ugly curse you release in Huttese when three members of the Sundari Royal Guard approach you and greet you by name is not only totally understandable, but you’d even argue that it’s acceptable.

“What?” You’re too tired to be polite.

The leader of the group, a tall man with a full blonde beard, bows respectfully, “I understand that it’s very late, Armorer—”

“It’s 2 am, don’t you people sleep?”

The Captain’s polite smile doesn’t even twitch, “Duchess Satine would like to speak with you.”

You stare at him blankly, “Now?!”

“Yes.”

“I’m covered in soot. I haven’t eaten. And it’s 2 in the karking morning.”

“A fresher, clean clothes, and a full meal will be provided for you.”

You stare at him, unimpressed, “This is one of those situations where what I want doesn’t actually matter, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so, ma’am.”

You rub the back of your head, annoyed. “Fine. But I don’t wear dresses.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Grudgingly, and deeply annoyed, you trail after the three guards.

Well, two of them. The third, a young woman a little taller than you, apologetically offers you a bottle of water as she walks next to you. “Let me guess, you’re here to make sure I don’t run off?”

“No ma’am,” She shakes her head, “I’m here to make sure that you don’t collapse.” She beams and taps the red medic symbol on her arm, “Everyone knows that you normally start your day before sunrise.”

“They do?”

“You are the best blacksmith in Sundari,” The third guard, another man, pipes up. “My mother has a set of decorative goblets you made for her for Life Day one year, she adores them.”

You…vaguely remember those. It was one of the first commissions you did when you took over the shop from the previous blacksmith. “Well, I’m glad she likes them.” You finally reply, awkwardly.

The conversation stalls after that, you’re just too tired and too exhausted to be much of a conversationalist. Luckily, the people who are escorting you don’t seem to mind.

Soon enough, you reach the palace of Sundari and you hide your revulsion with practiced ease.

You hate this place. 

No Mandalorian should be living in a palace.

The guards pass you off to a servant, who leads you to a small room. There’s a brand-new outfit spread out on the bed. It’s not a fancy outfit, just a pair of brown pants, a cream-colored shirt, and a pair of sturdy boots.

Clean, but simple.

“Miss, would you like me to clean your jacket?” The servant asks.

You glance at him over your shoulder, and then you glance at the jacket hanging from your hand. You had been too warm after everything to put it on, so it doesn’t have any soot on it at all. “That’s alright. It’s clean.” You toss your jacket on the bed to join the rest of the clothes.

“As you say, Miss,” The servant bows, “The Fresher is through that door, shampoo, conditioner, soap, and lotion have all been provided. There are also clean towels and hairstyling tools for when you finish showering. I will be back in an hour.”

And then the servant is gone, and you find yourself alone in a room nicer than your entire apartment.

“This is fine,” You say to the empty room, as you turn towards the fresher while stripping your soot and sweat-covered clothes off, “I’m sure that this meeting won’t be anything serious.”

An hour later, you find yourself sitting at a small-ish table, the nicest meal you’ve ever eaten in your life spread out in front of you, a mug of caf in your hands, and a glass of the richest fruit juice you’ve ever tasted near enough that you could grab it if you wanted it.

The only people at the table are yourself and the Duchess, though there are guards positioned around the room.

Despite the late hour, Duchess Satine looks completely refreshed. She doesn’t look tired at all, and you kind of hate her for it, especially since the only thing keeping you going is the mug of caf that the wait staff keep filling for you.

“I appreciate you agreeing to come on such short notice,” The Duchess says as she sets her fork down on a napkin, “I understand you must be exhausted.”

“Well, so long as you keep the caf flowing I’ll be alright, your Grace.”

The older woman flashes a polite, close-mouthed smile, “And how is your meal?”

The meal is pancakes, bacon, sausage, toast, eggs, and fresh fruit. You’ve only eaten a few pieces of sausage so far.

“Very good, though the amount makes me think that this is going to be a long meeting.”

“Well, you’re not wrong.” Duchess Satine sits back and folds her hands, “Tell me, what do you know about the state of the galaxy?”

You blink at her, “The galaxy?”

“That’s right?”

“Well, I know that slavery has gotten more prevalent with the return of the Zygarian Empire, and I know that the Hutt Cartels are pushing in on other Cartel territory. But other than that, I don’t know much.”

She nods as if she expected as much, “And what do you know of the situation on Mandalore?”

“A lot more.” 

She gestures for you to continue.

“Uhm, right. Well, I know that Mandalore is in the middle of a Civil War and that four different factions are vying for power. There’s you, of course. And then there’s Boba Fett up in Keldabe. The Covert is farther to the east, near the ocean, though I don’t know who leads them. Finally, there’s the Death Watch up on Concordia. They’re led by…uhm…—” You trail off.

“My sister, yes.” She seems completely unbothered by the fact that her sister is a terrorist, or maybe she just doesn’t care. “I have no qualms about the Civil War, I know that I will come out on top.”

You highly doubt that.

“However, I do need your assistance.”

“...mine?”

“You are an Armorer. That position is highly respected in the more traditional sects of Mandalore.”

Well, she’s not wrong.

“I would like you to go to the Covert and negotiate with them. Try to bring them under my banner.”

And, you have a moment of startling clarity. This bitch is absolutely insane.

“With all due respect, your Grace.” You say slowly, “But I make vanity pieces. I’m more of a blacksmith than an armorer.”

The Duchess stares at you with cold eyes, “Could you craft armor?”

“If I had blueprints and a month, maybe. But it wouldn’t be good.” You might as well be trying to negotiate with a wall for all of the good it’ll do. In fact, you’d probably have a better chance of negotiating with a brick wall.

“Good enough.”

Maybe you should move to Naboo. Their child Queen has to be more sane than this, right?

“The ship leaves in half an hour.”

“I don’t have any—”

“Everything will be supplied.” She makes a motion and the servant is at your side again, “I do wish you the best of luck. Remember, all of Sundari is depending on you.”

And then the Duchess is gone. Slowly, grudgingly, you decide to eat the rest of the meal that was provided for you, before allowing the servant to drag you to the ship.

Maybe you’ll be able to get some sleep on the ship.

However, you do take a moment to shoot a message to Nymmie, asking her to go to your shop the following day and make sure your client gets his cane. And you also apologize for having to scrape the plan for the weekend, since you won’t be in Sundari.

You know she’ll understand, she’s a smart kid.

Then, as the ship powers up, you drift to sleep on a cot in the back.

It’s what you deserve.

[freakrenaissance]

A lil alpha paz is always a delight 🤤 I love that dash of protective alpha mixed in before the breeding... fabulous fic

Kinktober Day 5- Breeding

Pairings: Alpha!Paz x AFAB!Omega!Reader (I don’t think there’s anything specifying a female reader, just an AFAB one. If you catch one let me know!)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, some Alpha’s are jerks, fingering, knotting, Paz is soft for his Omega

Word count:2k

Summary: Your heat hits early and Paz helps you take care of it

You’re walking through the halls of the compound, heading to speak to the Armorer about making new weapons for the foundlings when the camp’s Alpha’s start acting weird. They’re shooting you sidelong glances and inhaling deeply. You can only assume they smell your desperation for your own Alpha, Paz Vizsla, and they’re itching to take advantage. He’s been gone for over a week, two months after you bonded during his rut.

An Alpha approaches you, a new one to the compound, and asks about where Paz is but you brush him off. Everyone in the compound knows that he went on a scouting mission, trying to find more food and weapons for the clan. He snarls, you can hear it from under the helmet, as he sniffs at you and grabs you by the arm.

“I asked you where your Alpha is, Omega,” he snaps, fingers digging into the softness of your inner arm. The way he says ‘omega’, like it’s some kind of insult instead of a biological term pisses you off.

“Fuck you, where my Alpha is at is none of your business,” you snarl at him, wrenching your arm out of his grasp. You can smell him, rage and arrogance rolling off his frame in waves. “We don’t put hands on our Omegas here. Omegas are highly respected in this compound and if you mistreat one, especially one that’s already bonded, you’ll be out on your ass in a heartbeat,” you say, trying to send out a scent signal that you weren’t to be messed with.

“You should learn how to hold your tongue, Omega, it’ll get you into trouble. If you were my mate-“ he starts but a strong and familiar scent washes over you, relaxing you. It’s your own Alpha, back from his mission, and your own scent immediately mixes with his. His big strong hand wraps around your waist, pulling you against his armored chest.

“She’ll never be your mate, so it doesn’t matter what you think a mate should be,” he snaps, his scent as sharp as his tone and a tiny cramp hits your stomach. The other Alpha is helmeted, so you can’t read his expression, but you can smell it. He’s annoyed, angry, and defensive. He’s disrespected the clans head Alpha and his mate, he’s expecting a fight. Normally Paz would challenge him, he doesn’t allow newcomers to disrespect the clan, omegas specifically and definitely not his own bonded omega. You’re sure he’s getting ready issue a challenge when another cramp hits your belly. Paz smells your distress first, head snapping over as he looks at you. He sniffs again, a deeper sniff as he tries to decipher the other scent. He must find what he’s sniffing for because a low growl comes from deep in his chest and his scent turns red hot with anger.

It’s about the same time you realize what’s happening, because a third cramp hits your stomach and you realize what kind of cramps these are. Your heat is two weeks early and it explains the way some of the Alpha’s have been acting around you today. You try to rack your brain to figure out why it would be so early but you come up blank as the first waves of desire hit your core. Your oncoming heat is probably the reason this Alpha decided to try and strong arm you as well.

“I’ll deal with you later,” he growls and you can feel the anger in his voice. Another cramp hits your belly, stronger than the last three, and it almost doubles you over. Paz’s strong arms wrap around your waist and ushers you down the hall, back to your shared quarters. You pass Din Djarin on the way and vaguely hear Paz mumble something to him, but another cramp hits and you don’t hear what it is.

The two of them have formed an unlikely friendship since Paz started courting you and they’ve gotten closer since the two of you bonded. Later you’ll realize it had something to do with the Alpha who threatened you, but the first waves of desire are hitting your system and all you can think about is getting back your room. The scent of your heat must be getting stronger because Paz has to tell several other clan members to back off before you finally make it to your room.

As soon as the door shuts behind your bodies, you’re on him, clawing at his armor and his helmet while he chuckles and moves your hands so he can do it himself. The cramps have gotten worse and you take to rubbing your face on any part of him you can reach until he gets his helmet and undershirt off and he thrusts the cloth material at you. You inhale deeply, taking in the scent of your bonded mate as he fully undresses. It’s a brief reprieve from the pain as you soak in the scent of your Alpha. You’re mewling, a whimpering sound that shoots straight to Paz’s cock as he finishes undressing. Once he’s finished he works at your clothes, doing his best to get them in fewer motions than usual.

Finally, Paz has you both fully undressed and he’s on you immediately, scenting you and providing some relief to the ache in your belly. The waves of desire take over your body and you grind on his thick thigh to get some friction against your clit.

“My little Omega,” he groans, his full lips pressing against the mark he’d placed months ago, “you smell so good.” You sigh, pressing yourself against him as he works your shirt and pants off. One hand slips between your legs, large middle finger stroking your clit and you nearly collapse with relief.

“Alpha. Paz,” you cry out as he continues to stroke, “why is my heat early?” You cry, nearly sobbing with relief when he slips two fingers inside you. The relief is so intense that it brings you to the cusp of an orgasm immediately.

“It’s your first heat since we’ve been bonded,” he explains. “It makes sense that your heat would come early,” he drags some of your wetness around your clit with two fingers and you come undone, clutching to his shoulders as you come.

“I need more Alpha, please I need your knot,” you beg, grinding yourself on his thigh again. His chuckle reverberates through your body as he pushes you to the bed, grabbing some of your favorite blankets as he goes. He tosses them on the bed as he gives you an order.

“Present, Omega,” he commands, allowing the Alpha to drip into his voice. You scramble to obey, on your elbows and knees on the bed, back arched for him to see the slick between your legs. “Good Omega,” he purrs, sliding his fingers along the backs of your thighs and over the round of your ass. You preen at the praise, spreading further for him so he can dip two fingers inside you.

“Anything for my Alpha,” you croon, the submission in your voice prevalent. His fingers work your pussy, smearing the slick all over your clit as he preps you for him. Paz isn’t a small man and he wants to make sure he won’t hurt you as he slides home but your heat is hitting hard and you don’t want to wait.

“Alpha, please. Want your knot. Need it,” you plead, wiggling your hips and making your ass shake. You hear him start to protest but you whine, deep and needy in your chest. Whining for your Alpha to take you, fill you with his knot and his pups and his need for you takes over.

“I’ll be gentle, precious Omega,” he promises but you don’t care. You just want him to mount you, fill you, knot you. You whine again, pressing back against him as his hands grab your hips and his cock nudges at your pussy. “Tell me if it hurts,” he says, pressing the head into your slick-soaked entrance. You mewl, just the one small motion giving you intense relief and you press back, needing more. Paz growls, your need pressing primal desires deep in his chest as he pushes forwards.

“Pussy feels good, mesh’la,” he groans once he’s fully inside you, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. He drags himself back out, slow and steady, the head of his cock catching as he pushes back in. His pace is steady but it’s not enough for you, deep in the need of your heat. Your hips start moving, pressing back against him, fucking yourself on his cock. You’re panting, the word Alpha rolling off your tongue with the punch of his cock into you. You’re close again, pussy clenching on your Alpha and his heavy breaths let you know he’s close too. His fingers slip around to your front, wet from his mouth as he strokes your clit and begs you to come.

“Come for me, my pretty Omega, so I can give you my knot. Fill you with my seed, breed you full with my pups,” his words are like electric shocks to your clit as he strokes but he doesn’t let up. “Wanna see your breasts heavy with milk, see my younglings nursing from you with another heavy in your belly,” the idea of being full of his pups, his offspring, sends you over the edge. Your pussy clamps down, milking your Alpha as he reaches his own end. He groans your name, not Omega your actual name, as his knot swells and pops and locks the two of you together. He collapses on you for only the briefest moment before he rolls, pulling you into him as he spoons you, cock still buried deep inside you.

“I hope this takes, my precious Omega, I’d love to see your belly swollen with my pups,” he muses, hands stroking your belly softly. You mewl, hands and face searching out for your soft blankets that smell like your Alpha. Paz grabs them, covering your bodies with the softest and warmest blankets he can reach while still being connected to you. You rub your face over his arm while it’s tucked under your head, scenting him as much as you can from your position.

“Sleep my precious Omega, you’ll need your rest for the next few days. Your heat will be stronger since we are bonded now,” Paz explains, curling his body around you. You nod, eye closing with exhaustion as you dream of the future with your Alpha.

You wake in the morning, alone in your bed but surrounded your favorite blankets, with one of Paz’s shirts tucked right up against your face. Desire is the first emotion you feel, exhaustion from the night before is the second. The third you feel is love because when you raise up to find your Alpha, you realize that he built your nest for you in the middle of the night, finding the softest and best smelling items in your small home to surround you with. It’s not perfect but that doesn’t matter because your big, strong, scary Alpha built a nest for his Omega in the middle of the night. He comes in a half second later as tears fill your eyes at the sweet gesture.

“What’s the matter, my Omega?” He asks, dropping the caf and breakfast on the side table.

“You made my nest?” You sniffle and he chuckles.

“Of course, my sweet,” he offers,” our pups will want a nest and I need to know how to build one just in case.” He’s so kind and thoughtful and it makes you cry and forget about your heat for a moment. “Are these good tears?” He asks, a little hesitantly. You nod, digging your face into his neck and knowing that there’s no better Alpha out there in the world for you.

Tags: @darkhairedmenrule @starlitnotes @rexandechosandwich @lacroix-qblog @grinningnexu @firstofficerwiggles @too-manyfandomstocount

[ennkis]

hi, i love your writing can you do one where marc guiu is secretly dating lewandoski's daughter and he finds out?

MR LEWANDOWSKI (marc guiu x lewandowski!reader)

summary : in which the polish barcelona player finds out his daughter is dating his teammate

face claim : no-one exact

notes : ty for the request !! im gonna do some requests asap (theres like twenty so plsplspls be patient <3) also im gonna go on vacation soon so ill be less active.

pairings : marc guiu x fem!lewandowski!reader

BEING THE DAUGHTER of the Polish striker, Robert Lewandowski, came with its perks. Some of the benefits was the opportunity to meet your favorite players, attend exclusive events, and see important matches, such as the World Cup and UCL Finals. But managing the constant media attention and living up to the Lewandowski name were only two of the challenges that came with it. The hardest challenge of them all was keeping your relationship with the Barcelona striker, Marc Guiu, a secret.

You knew dating Marc was going to make you slightly insane. The constant hiding and sneaking around was annoying, tbh.. But if you managed to keep this a secret for over seven months, you sure weren't going to fuck it up now.

Hector quickly caught onto your little facade. All three of you were classmates, and it was clear by the looks you exchanged across the classroom, the way Marc spoke to Hector about you, and just the overall way he admired you. Hector was certain you were dating.

Him knowing would actually come in handy. It was a little easier to keep the secret when Hector was on your side. When needed, he helped cover for you by coming up with excuses in case your dad was on the edge of figuring things out.

One afternoon, while your father was out, Marc came over to your house. It was a unique chance for the two of you to have the house to yourselves, and you both wanted to make the most of it.

You were in your room, cuddling on your bed with Marc as a movie was playing on your laptop. It was relaxing, finally a moment of comfort without any worries or the anxiety of getting caught.

"This is nice," Marc murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I wish we could do this more often."

"Me too," you replied, pulling in closer to him. "But you're aware of my dad's history with my ex-boyfriends. If he found out, he would freak out."

Marc sighed as he played with the strings on your hoodie. "I know. Yet, sometimes I picture us going out on a typical date night. No concerns about your father catching us. You know maybe if he got used to our relationship, he could come along."

Playfully poking Marc with your shoulder, you mocked, "Are you using me to date my father?"

Marc gave you a gentle giggle and an amused look as his eyes met yours. "Maybe I am," he answered. "But in all honesty, I just want to go out with you—no sneaking around, just a regular 'I'll have her home by nine, sir' type date."

"Wow, real cute, Marc." Just as you were about to lean in for a kiss, you heard the front door open. Your heart stopped, as you and Marc exchanged panicked and confused looks.

"Oh fuck. He's not supposed to be back yet," you whispered urgently, scrambling off the bed. "You have to hide. Like now."

Marc quickly got up, looking around the room for a hiding spot. "WHAT?! Where should I go?!"

"Jesus Christ, Marc. I don't know just.. just get under the bed or something!" you whispered, trying to keep your voice down.

Just as your father yelled something from the living room, Marc dove under the bed. "Y/n? You home?"

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before opening your bedroom door. "Yeah, What's up?"

He walked down the hallway, a frown on his face. "I thought I left my other keys here. Have you seen them?"

You shook your head, trying to look casual. "Nah, I haven't seen them. Maybe you left them in the locker room after training?"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe. I'll call someone to check if someone found them. Are you okay? You seem... off."

"I'm good, Dad," you said quickly, hoping he couldn't hear the nervousness in your voice. "Just tired, I guess.."

He looked at you for a moment longer before nodding. "Alright. Well, I'm going to head back out then. Let me know if you find the keys."

As he turned to leave, you heard a muffled cough from under the bed. Your eyes widened in horror as your father stopped in his tracks, his brow furrowing.

"What was that?" he asked, turning back to you.

"What do you mean" you said quickly, desperately trying to think of an excuse. "I didn't hear anything. Is your hearing alright?"

"Hey, I'm still only 35 years young. Anyways, I'll just head out, I guess. See you later, honey." He said as he walked out the front door.

As you walked down the hallway to reach your room, you exclaimed, "Marc, what the fuck was that? The one time you NEED to be quiet, you actually cough. How on earth is that possible?"

"Hey, I didn't put all that dust under your bed," he playfully said while hugging you. "Calm down, babe. He didn't even see me."

"Yeah, but he heard your silly ass. Anyways you should just go. He might come back soon."

At least three hours had passed before your dad returned, which was kind of annoying because you had the chance to finish the movie and still had two hours left to hang out without interruptions.

"Hey honey, I'm back home," your dad said as he walked into the house. You were sitting on the couch, watching Suits (a goated show btw).

Your dad's voice startled you, making you jump slightly. You quickly paused the show and turned to face him. "Hey Dad," you replied.

He looked around the living room with a curious expression. His eyes fell upon the hoodie that Marc gave to you. The hoodie that exclusively Barcelona players got. His brow furrowed slightly as he picked it up, examining it with a puzzled look.

"Whose hoodie is this?" he asked.

You swallowed nervously, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. "Oh, uh, that's Marc's," you said, mentally cursing yourself for not changing beforehand. "He gave it to me last week."

Robert's gaze shifted from the hoodie to you, his expression unreadable. "Marc's?"

"Yeah," you nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "We… we've been hanging out a lot. Last week i was cold so he gave it to me."

He studied you for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge your sincerity. "Hanging out," he echoed, more a statement than a question.

You nodded again, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. "Okay, yeah. So, Dad, we've been dating for.. a while now."

His eyes widened in surprise, shocked expression on his face. But he didn't look angry. Instead, he let out a slow breath and nodded.

As he stared at you for what felt like an eternity, processing the information, he finally spoke out, his voice calm yet tinged with disbelief, "You and Marc... have been dating?"

"I… I didn't know how you'd react," you admitted, feeling a pinch of guilt for keeping it from him. "And I didn't want you to worry."

Robert leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "I see," he said. "And how long has this 'while' been?"

Marc cleared his throat, speaking up, "About seven months, Mr. Lewandowski."

Your dad looked at Marc with a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Marc? What are you doing here?" he asked, seeing him in the living room unexpectedly.

"I'm sorry, sir. Y/n messaged me to come over, so I did," Marc spoke out, trying to explain his sudden arrival.

"Sorry for not telling you sooner, Mr. Lewandowski," he said earnestly. "We didn't mean to keep it from you."

Robert eased his expression and laughed. "I understand," he softly said in response. "While I can't say I'm not surprised, I appreciate your honesty. Also, Marc, we've known each other for some time now. Just call me as usual." Your father joked with his teammate, your boyfriend.

You felt a wave of relief when you realized he wasn't upset. To be honest, he looked more interested than angry. "So, what do you think, Dad?" You questioned him.

Robert leaned forward, a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, if Marc here has managed to win your heart for seven months without my knowledge, he must be doing something right," he said, his tone teasing yet approving.

Marc and you exchanged a relieved smile as you felt the tension ease. Despite his reputation for being serious, Your dad has surprised you today by showing you compassion and comprehension.

You said, "Thank you, Dad," appreciating his understanding.

He chuckled loudly and replied. "Please just promise me that you will keep me updated. I'm happy for you both."

It was impossible not to feel an overwhelming feeling of relief. The secret was finally out.

[chatoicboy]

I am saying this in the nicest way possible.

IF YOU HAVE AN OC X CHARACTER DONT USE X READER OR X Y/N TAGS

Don’t say it’s cause you want to reach out more cause WE DO BLOCK THOSE WHO DO THIS

[littlebeluu]

Can u write some Marc guiu where the reader is insecure about her stretch marks and during s*x Marc noticed she was trying to cover them and he moved her hands started kissing the stretch marks telling her she’s perfect/ beautiful and he loves her.. x

I'm so happy for this becauuuse, I've been keeping a little secret for some time. I may or may not follow Marc's secret account on Twitter... where he happened to like this post that i will translate for you (back when likes were visible 😭). I took this screenshot in February.

I think we all agree that the majority of guys don't give a fuck about this.

q: Women with stretch marks are not attractive.

I hope that this information overcompensates for this poorly written smut. Let's get into it.

warnings: smut, oral (f and m), penetration, insecurities.

I watched as Marc pulled off his shirt, his bleached blonde hair sticking up in every direction. His broad shoulders and powerful back rippling under his tanned skin. He was a sight to behold.

“Come here,” he commanded.

I slowly got up from my position on the bed and made my way over to him, my heart beating nervously. I stopped a few feet away, fidgeting with the hem of my own shirt.

“Closer,” he said, a smile playing on Marc's lips.

I took another step closer to him. His hands reached out, sliding my shirt up over my body. Marc's fingers grazing over my skin sent shivers down my spine. As my shirt was pulled off over my head, I instinctively moved my arms to cover my stomach and legs, my stretch marks. But he quickly pulled my hands away, his smile growing wider.

“I love these,” he said, gently running his fingers over the lines on my skin.

I looked up at him in shock. No one had ever said that before.

“But they’re not very pretty,” I replied, my cheeks blushing.

Marc raised a brow, “What?”

“They’re not... I don’t know... I just feel like they make me look ugly,” I explained.

He chuckled and took my hands, leading me over to the bed. We both sat down, his hands never leaving mine.

“They’re not ugly at all amor, they’re beautiful. They mean you’ve experienced life, plus they look like fucking lightning, or water reflection. And to me... that’s sexy as fuck” he said.

I smiled at his words. My eyes followed Marc's hands as they ran up and down my body, stopping at the waistband of my yoga pants. His hands slid underneath the fabric, slowly pulling them off of me. As his hands passed over the curves of my hips and butt, my breath caught in my throat. I stood up before him, completely naked.

“You’re so beautiful,” Marc said, his voice full of longing.

My cheeks flushed even more and I tried to move to cover myself again, but he stopped me.

“I want to see you,” he said, voice firm. “I want to see all of you.”

His hands moved to the front of my body, sliding up over my breasts and down over my stomach.

My eyes closed as Marc's hands explored every inch of my body. When they reached my stretch marks again, I opened my eyes and watched as his lips followed. Kissing every single one of them. I couldn’t help but let out a whimper of pleasure. His hands continued to move over my body, sliding between my legs.

He slipped two fingers inside of me and I let out a moan of pleasure. Marc's fingers curled inside of me and his thumb circled around my clit. I could feel my orgasm building. My moans got louder and louder until I was crying out as I came.

When my orgasm subsided he stood up. I watched in awe as his shirt was pulled off, his muscles flexing beneath his tanned skin. Marc pulled down his pants and boxers, freeing his large cock. My eyes widened at the sight.

“Fuck,” I said, my mouth falling open.

He chuckled, “Like what you see?” he asked, a smirk on his face.

I nodded eagerly. His hand wrapped around his shaft, stroking it up and down. I watched in amazement as pre-cum dripped out of the tip.

Marc picked me up, carrying me over to the bed. I was placed on my back, his body hovering over mine. His mouth moved to my neck, sucking and biting the skin there. I let out a loud moan, feeling another orgasm building. Marc kissed down my body, stopping at my breasts. His tongue flicked over my nipples, making me squirm under him. I could feel his cock rubbing against my pussy, but he didn’t enter me yet. Instead he continued to tease me, moving his tongue down to my pussy. I felt his warm breath on my clit, followed by his tongue licking at my folds. I cried out as another orgasm ripped through my body.

When I came back down, I opened my eyes to see him hovering over me, a smile on his face.

“You taste so good,” Marc said, “But I think I’ve made you cum enough for now.”

I nodded in agreement, still trying to catch my breath. His cock was still rock hard against my leg. I knew Marc hadn’t cum yet, but I was ready for him to.

“Please,” I begged, “I want to feel you inside of me.”

He chuckled, “Not yet.”

Marc moved so that he was straddling my chest. His cock was inches from my mouth. I licked my lips, knowing exactly what he wanted.

Marc took hold of my head and brought my mouth to his cock. I took him in my mouth, sucking him hard. I could feel his cock swelling in my mouth. I knew he was close due to his whimpers. His hand tightened around the back of my head and his cock hit the back of my throat as he came.

I swallowed his load, moaning in pleasure at the taste of his cum. Marc's hand stayed in my hair, his cock still in my mouth. I licked and sucked at him, trying to get every last bit of cum out of him. When I was finished, he pulled out of my mouth and kissed me. I could taste his salty cum on our tongues.

I felt his cock starting to grow hard again as we kissed. He broke the kiss and looked down at me.

“Are you ready?” Marc asked.

I eagerly nodded, “Yes, please.”

He positioned himself between my legs, his cock rubbing against my pussy. I moaned at the sensation, desperate for him to be inside of me. His hands went under my ass, lifting me slightly as he thrust into me. I cried out at the feeling of Marc filling me up. His cock felt so good inside of me, it was like he was made to fit me. Marc began to thrust in and out of me, his pace fast and hard. His hands gripped my ass as he fucked me. I could feel another orgasm building. My legs wrapped around his waist, holding onto him as he fucked me. I moaned loudly, my hands gripping the sheets. Marc's pace was becoming faster and faster, harder and harder.

“Fuck,” he cried out, “I’m going to cum.”

I nodded eagerly, my moans getting louder and louder until I was crying out as I came. I could feel his cock swell inside of me and then he was coming, his cum filling me up. His hands stayed on my ass as he emptied his load into me. Marc's cock twitched as his cum dripped out of me and onto the sheets.

He slowly pulled out of me and laid down next to me. Marc's hand moved to my stomach, running his fingers over my stretch marks.

“Thank you,” I said, looking over at him.

Marc smiled and kissed me. “I told you, you’re beautiful.”

I smiled back at him, feeling loved and appreciated. My insecurities now washed away thanks to his words. I laid my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. His hand still ran over my skin. I felt loved and protected in his arms. I kissed his chest and closed my eyes, falling into a peaceful sleep. Marc's arms held me tight as he fell asleep too.

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄? ✮ F. LÓPEZ

summary. fermín wants to celebrate his new trophy with you.

warnings. 18+ mean! fermín. smut.

gabri speaks! paz!reader universe is back due to popular demand.

the view of the apartment the guys rented for the party was breathtaking. madrid was a beautiful city, you were glad your brother had convinced your parents to move in with him. although right now you were alone in madrid surrounded by a bunch of players you didn’t know. a bunch of players your brother hated. in the midst of drunk players and their friends you kept tugging your short red dress every five minutes. you were beginning to regret even coming, you were only here because of a certain blonde. a blonde you had yet to see.

“didn’t bring nico?” you’re startled by a familiar voice.

“why? you have a crush on my brother?” you ask him surprised at the sudden interest fermín had for your brother.

“no but it would’ve been nice to show him what a trophy looks like.” you can barely see him through the dim lights but you know he’s smirking. you can hear it in his voice.

“if i’m not wrong you barely had minutes. i’m not too sure you have any bragging rights.” you test him.

“and somehow i played more minutes than your brother has his whole career.” his tone changes. “watch your mouth. you look prettier like that.”

you’re taken aback by his change in demeanor quite frankly you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him this riled up. he’s rough and threatening, his good boy facade long gone. you’re amused by the way he’s acting wondering if he’s trying to get you to sleep with him again. you place your hand on his jaw while the other goes into his hair, tempting him.

“it’s such a shame that you could be celebrating your win but instead you’re bitching about my brother like a sad little envious child.” you say sharply not taking insults to your brother lightly.

the smirk that once adorned his face was now gone and you could tell he was mad at you now. he grips your hands away from him with such a tight hold you’ll know they’ll be bruised tomorrow. his eyes pierce into yours with a threatening look and you realize you’ve successfully riled him up.

“okay, that’s it.” he murmurs.

one minute you’re looking at fermín dead in the eye and the next you feel his hands grip your waist. his hold is so strong on you that he manages to carry you over his shoulder with ease. you’re not that surprised at how easily he’s picked you up, you’ve noticed how bulkier he got over the past year. when the guy you’ve been fucking on the low gets hotter you notice.

“fermín! put me down!” you shriek.

the blonde just finds it funny laughing at your vulnerability. your screams manage to get the attention of his teammates and their guests. the least you could say is that he was embarrassing you in front of everyone and you hoped that none of the real madrid players were here. the last thing you needed was to get embarrassed and scolded by your brother. the faces of the guest slowly fade away as fermín drags you to what you can assume is his room. he gently drops you on the bed before laying down next to you.

“you’re such an asshole.” you whine as you fix your dress. it’s then that you realize that some of the guests had probably seen your dress skirt up, your face heats up instantly at that.

you don’t get to bicker at him for much longer because he pulls you on top of him. his hands instantly go towards your hips — a muscle memory for him by now — and holds you. you can already feel him grow hard against you and you get excited. the two of you had just argued and now here he was with a hard on. he thrusts up against you causing a whine to slip past your lips at the sensation.

“such a shame that you could use your mouth for beautiful noises like this instead of arguing.” he murmurs under his breathe trying to contain his groans.

it’s your turn to grind against him causing his breath to falter. he places himself against the crook of your neck as you continue your movements, leaving wet kisses along your throat. you move your hands into the light curls of his hair as you feel yourself growing wetter.

“instead of trying to compete against my brother every five seconds you could be fucking me but you don’t see me complaining.” and there you go always trying to have the last word.

“shut the fuck up and spread your legs.” he groans.

you hesitate but you obey nevertheless. his hand trails down your figure until he places it firmly on your thigh, teasing you. he knows you need him and the idea of making you frustrated is amusing to him. you can’t stand it anymore — his touch being so close yet so far — you yearn him. it’s almost pathetic except for the fact that you know he feels the same way. he’s the one who wanted you first and he always ends up satisfying you even if he’s mad.

his fingers slowly tread up your leg and you grow frustrated at the edging. you can’t stand it anymore so you drag his fingers to where you need him the most causing a teasing laugh to leave his lips. you know he’ll give you shit about this later but you don’t care, you need him. he also seems to think the same as he doesn’t waste time spreading your wetness along your folds. your hips instinctively grind into his hand as his fingers start circling your clit causing waves of pleasure throughout your body.

“oh, fuck.” you whine as he brings a couple of his fingers towards your hole.

“say you want my fingers.” he looks at you with a defying grin. “say it or else i’ll leave you here all alone.”

“fuck fermín please.” you gasp as one of his fingers enters you slowly. “i need your fingers, please”

he leaves a quick kiss on your jaw before inserting you with his second finger. your body collapses against his chest as he fucks you slowly. the intrusion is sudden and your hands grip the sheets below you as he fills you up. the feeling is intense and you feel feral at the way you moan without holding back. the thing about fermín was that while he was asshole at least he fucked, hard. his free hand grabs you by the throat forcing you to look at him as you ride his hand.

he looks at you in awe admiring the way your eyes get glossy as you fuck yourself on his fingers. he analyzes the way your hair bounces with every movement of your hips and how your eyes close and your nose scrunches a bit before reaching your peak. he adds a third finger hoping to help you reach your high. you’re full on whining in his ear now as he fills you up completely. the sensation of your walls clinging to his fingers so tightly also allow him a sense of satisfaction.

“fermín. please.” you weren’t even sure what you were begging for. you only knew that you were close.

“you’re so close.” he whispers as he pulls you in for a kiss. the kiss is sloppy but soft. a mixture of lost and love. it scares you, nevertheless you come around his fingers gasping as you wet his fingers.

“fuck, that was hot. you’re hot.” fermín rambles as he helps you come down from your orgasm.

as you adjust your dress and fix your hair fermín watches you intensely. he’s tired of only seeing you like this and never normally. he hadn’t slept with anyone else since you came into his life and you were making him crazy. the feeling of knowing fran was so close of having you too was too much for him and he wasn’t sure why felt so possessive about you.

was it just lust or was it love?

[vagabond-umlaut]

WIP GAME

rules — list the names/titles of docs in your WIP folder + open your inbox to have people ask about them!

tyyy for the tag, rheya my love 😌😌❤️ the fics u hv listed sound so so interesting!!! i have my eyes set esp on the tigerhybrid!sukuna fic---tht i'm sure u will write very well, as u always have 🥰🥰 @satoruxx

to fall in love is to create a religion (that has a fallible god)

geto suguru x reader; set in hidden inventory arc; senpai x kouhai; koi no yokan (means 'premonition of love'); canon-compliant

let me take your coat (and this weight off of your shoulders)

geto suguru x reader; slightly insane cult leader!geto; married life; parenthood; nice simple domestic stuff <3 (until jjk 0)

i'll love you forever (and we'll never be in the same room again)

geto suguru x reader; geto survives jjk 0; amnesiac!reader; angst with a happy ending; final installment of this series :D

kugelblitz

gojo satoru x reader; angel!satoru; soulmates (sort of...); tw dubcon (but not really???); tw pregnancy; angst with a hopeful ending

heartbeat star

gojo satoru x reader; angel!satoru; developing relationship; more-or-less domestic vibes; tw pregnancy; epilogue-ish to the above fic :))

the heart is an eye

ryomen sukuna x reader; brother's best friend!sukuna; unrequited love; arranged marriage; regency era; 'falls first' x 'falls hard' trope (but amped up to a 100)

no pressure tags 😊😊❤️ ---

@diremoone, @risuola, @sukunasweetheart, @yuujispinkhair, @avatarofstars

@songsofadelaide, @sukunasteeth, @strawberrystepmom, @afortoru, @pupkashi

[kiwiokok]

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙒𝘼𝙔 𝙊𝙁 𝙒𝘼𝙏𝙀𝙍

Previous >> Next

Pairing: Ao'nung x omaticayan! fem!reader

Summary: You have a brother??

Warnings: Angst

Author's note: hellooo, I'm so happy that part 1 of this fanfic got over 10 notes. Thank you so much! Leave a comment I love them

Credits: For the whole plot idea I have for this fanfic I have to credit and thank @lorre-verie <3

“Let me go, pxasìk!“ － Tsa’lor’s voice sliced through the humid forest air, raw and jagged with fury. She thrashed against Lo’ak’s iron grip, her wrist burning where his fingers dug into her skin. Her tail lashed wildly, stirring the undergrowth, and her ears flattened tight against her skull as she bared her fangs. － “I said let go, you thick-skulled skxawng! I can walk on my own!”

Lo’ak’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look at her. － “Keep it down“ －he muttered, his voice clipped as his eyes scanned the ground ahead. － “You’ll get us caught.”

“Caught?” － she spat, yanking her arm again. － “Maybe if you’d listened to your father, we wouldn’t be sneaking around like prey in the first place!”

Not far behind, Spider’s voice broke through the rustling leaves, casual yet curious. － “Hey, Lo’ak, you think the Sky People are letting kids our age onto Pandora now? I mean, they’d have to, right? With all the time that’s passed?”

Lo’ak didn’t answer. His steps faltered, then veered sharply off the path they’d been following. Tsa’lor stumbled, her bare feet catching on a root, and she hissed under her breath as she steadied herself. Her heart thudded unevenly—something was wrong, and she could feel it in the way the air seemed to thicken.

“What is it now?” － Kiri snapped, spinning around to face her brother. Her braid swung with the motion, and her amber eyes flashed with exasperation. － “We’re wasting time!”

“We’re supposed to be back by eclipse,” － Tuk piped up, her small hands twisting together nervously. She edged closer to Kiri, her wide eyes darting between the trees. － “You know what Dad said…”

Lo’ak ignored them both, dropping to one knee beside Spider. Tsa’lor craned her neck, her breath catching as she glimpsed what they were staring at—a footprint, deep and unnervingly large, pressed into the soft earth.

Lo’ak’s fingers hovered over it, tracing the outline with a frown. － “This… this is way too big for a human,” － he said, his voice low, almost reverent.

Spider leaned closer, squinting at the tracks that stretched toward the shadowed depths of the forest. － “Avatars, maybe?”

“Maybe,” － Lo’ak murmured, his tail flicking thoughtfully. － “But they’re not ours. Look at the tread—too heavy, too… wrong“

Kiri’s breath hitched, her annoyance giving way to a flicker of dread. － “Dad was right, wasn’t he? If the Sky People are back, they’re here, in our forest. We need to tell him—Lo’ak!” － Her voice sharpened as he stood and started following the trail, his steps deliberate. － “What are you doing?”

“Tracking,” － he said simply, his grip tightening on Tsa’lor’s wrist as he pulled her along. She dug her heels in for a moment, resisting, but his strength won out. Spider fell into step beside them, his human frame moving with surprising grace through the underbrush.

“this is stupid,” － Tsa’lor growled, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and unease. － “You’re going to get us all killed—or worse. Let me go back, I don’t need to be part of this!” － Her chest ached with the weight of her words—she didn’t want to abandon them, not really, but the fear clawing at her insides begged her to run.

“Quiet,” － he snapped, his eyes fixed ahead. － “You’re with us. Deal with it.” － The air grew heavier as they approached a crumbling shack, its metal walls rusted and overgrown with vines.

Tsa’lor’s nose wrinkled at a sharp, unfamiliar scent—something metallic and sour that didn’t belong in the forest. Her ears twitched, picking up faint sounds: footsteps, low voices. She froze as Lo’ak signaled them to crouch behind a thicket.

Peering through the leaves, she saw them—Na’vi in camouflage, rifles slung across their chests, moving with a precision that felt alien. Her stomach twisted. These weren’t her people.

“We’re not supposed to be here,” － Kiri whispered, her voice barely a breath. Her hand brushed Tsa’lor’s arm, a silent tether. －“Dad’s going to ground you for this, Lo’ak. You know that, right?”

“Shut it, Kiri,” － he hissed, his tail flicking irritably.

“For life,” － she added, her tone biting despite the fear in her eyes. － “And us with you.”

Lo’ak shot her a glare, then turned to Spider. － “Bro, we’ve got to see what’s up. Come on.” － He finally released Tsa’lor’s wrist, and she rubbed it, the skin red and tender. She met Kiri’s gaze—exasperated, pleading—and sighed.

“I could just leave you all to this madness,” － Tsa’lor muttered, flexing her fingers. － “I didn’t sign up for a death march.”

“No,” － Kiri said firmly, her hand closing around Tsa’lor’s with a gentle squeeze. － “You’re stuck with us. Sorry.”

Tsa’lor’s lips thinned, but she didn’t pull away. She squinted at the figures in the distance, their movements too stiff, too human beneath the Na’vi skin. Her heart sank—Sky People, wearing stolen bodies. Minutes dragged by, thick with tension, until Lo’ak and Spider slipped back, their faces etched with urgency.

“We’ve got to call it in,” － Lo’ak said, pressing his throat mic with a shaky hand. － “Devil Dog, Devil Dog, this is Eagle Eye, over.”

Tsa’lor sank onto the grass, her legs trembling from the strain. She tucked her knees up, watching him through narrowed eyes as the static crackled.

“You back already?” － a gruff voice replied.

“No, sir,” － Lo’ak said, a curse slipping under his breath. － “I’ve got eyes on some guys—avatars, I think. Full camo, ARs slung over their shoulders. Six of them. Over.”

“Your pos? Over.”

He hesitated, swallowing hard. － “Uh… the old shack.”

Silence roared through the line. Tsa’lor bit her cheek, tasting blood as dread coiled tighter in her gut.

“Boy, I told you to get back!” － the voice exploded, sharp and furious. － “Get the hell out of there, you hear me? Move! Over!”

Tsa’lor scrambled to her feet, brushing dirt from her thighs as Kiri pulled her along. The group moved fast, their steps hushed but urgent, weaving through the trees away from the shack.

“You’re in so much trouble,” － Kiri scolded, her voice low but fierce. － “I hope you’re ready to explain this to Dad.”

“Kiri, stop it,” － Lo’ak growled, his ears twitching.

“Guys, hurry,” － Tuk whimpered, her small frame trembling. －“It’s almost eclipse—please!”

A rustle shattered the quiet. A Na’vi soldier burst from the bushes, his massive hand closing around Tuk’s arm. She shrieked, the sound piercing Tsa’lor’s chest like a blade.

“Tuk!” － Kiri lunged forward, but Tsa’lor grabbed her shoulder, holding her back as more soldiers appeared, guns leveled at them. Spider snarled, drawing his bow, his human teeth bared in defiance. Tsa’lor’s hand flew to her knife, her heart hammering as she stepped between Lo’ak and Kiri, hissing at the nearest soldier.

“Put it down!” － the soldier roared, his gun swinging toward her. － “Drop it, or I shoot you where you stand!”

Tsa’lor’s glare burned into him, her fingers tightening around the hilt. － “Try it,” － she spat, her voice trembling with rage and fear.－ “See what happens.”

“Hey, don’t!” － Lo’ak’s voice cut through, steady but urgent. － “Tìyawn fìtseng [put it down.]” － He let his bow fall, the clatter loud in the stillness.

She hissed one last time, dropping her knife into the dirt with a dull thud. It felt like surrender, and it tore at her.

“Hands up!” － another soldier barked, his voice grating against her ears.Spider growled, his bow hitting the ground as the soldiers closed in. Rough hands seized Tsa’lor’s wrists, twisting them behind her back.

She grunted, struggling as a soldier kicked Kiri’s legs out, sending her crashing to her knees with a pained gasp. Another grabbed Tsa’lor’s kuru, yanking hard. Pain seared through her skull, and she snarled, collapsing beside Kiri, her free hand scrabbling at the grip.

“Check ‘em for weapons!” － a soldier shouted, his voice echoing in her ringing ears.

“Tuk!” － Kiri called, her voice cracking as Tuk whimpered across the clearing. － “Mawey, mawey! [stay calm!]”

“Shut your mouth,” － a soldier snapped, shoving Kiri’s shoulder. － “Don’t move.”

A shadow loomed, and Tsa’lor’s breath snagged in her throat, sharp and ragged. － “What have we here?” － The voice slithered over her, cold and deliberate, each word a blade against her skin.

She dared a glance up through her lashes—Quaritch. His Na’vi form stood unnaturally tall, his broad frame clad in camouflage that clashed with the forest’s vibrant hues. His eyes, pale and predatory, swept over them, and terror coiled tight around her heart.

She dropped her head, her braids falling like a curtain to shield her face, and whispered a silent plea to Eywa: Don’t let him see me. Not now. Not ever.

The soldier’s grip on her kuru tightened, a fresh jolt of pain searing through her skull. She bit her lip hard, stifling a whimper, her hands twisting behind her back. Her five fingers—her curse, her secret—clenched into a fist, nails digging into her palms until she felt the sting of blood.

He was here—her father. And he didn’t even know her. Not yet. The thought was a bitter ache, a wound she couldn’t name.

Quaritch’s gaze slid past her, landing on Spider. He shifted his rifle to his back with a casual flick, then turned to Lo’ak, but a soldier’s voice cut through.

－ “Hey, Colonel, check this out.” － The Na’vi grabbed Kiri’s hand, wrenching it up to display her four fingers －“Look at that—four fingers. Half-breed.”

Kiri hissed, struggling as Quaritch stepped closer, his boots crunching the dirt. The soldier seized her kuru, yanking hard, and her scream tore through the air—a sound that clawed at Tsa’lor’s chest.

Kiri panted, her eyes blazing with defiance as Quaritch loomed over her, then swung his attention to Lo’ak. － “Show me your fingers,” － he ordered, pointing a thick digit at the boy. His voice was calm, but it carried a threat that made Tsa’lor’s stomach lurch.

Lo’ak knelt, a gun barrel pressed to his temple, his tail slashing the air. He glared up at Quaritch and raised both hands—middle fingers extended in a silent, furious rebellion.

Quaritch chuckled, a low, gravelly sound that sent chills down her spine. － “You’re his, aren’t you?” － His smirk widened, predatory. － “Yeah, you’re his, alright.”

Without warning, he lunged forward and grabbed Lo’ak’s kuru, hauling him to his feet. Lo’ak groaned, his face contorting in pain, and Tsa’lor’s heart slammed against her ribs.Quaritch ignored her, pulling on Lo’ak’s kuru as the boy growled, teeth bared. － “Where is he?” － he demanded.

Lo’ak stayed silent, his defiance a wall, and Quaritch tugged harder, his patience thinning.－ “Where?”

“Ngaytxoa, oe yemstokx’t plltxe ‘ìnglìsì tsonta tskitan,” － Lo’ak spat, his voice thick with venom. [Sorry, I don’t speak English to buttholes.]

Quaritch’s smirk faded, his Na’vi clumsy but intelligible. － “Tsenga lu your sempul? [Where is your father?]“ － He yanked again, and Lo’ak snarled, his tail whipping furiously.

Tsa’lor’s ears twitched, straining to parse his broken words. Quaritch’s patience snapped. － “Really? You wanna play it this way?” － He drew a pocket knife, its blade glinting as he held it near Lo’ak’s throat—then shoved him down, hard, into the dirt.

Lo’ak hit the ground with a grunt, and Quaritch turned toward Kiri. “Kiri, no—stop!” － Lo’ak shouted, scrambling to his knees.

tears burning behind Tsa’lor’s eyes. She couldn’t look—couldn’t watch him hurt them, couldn’t face the man who’d shaped her nightmares.

“Don’t hurt her, please,” － Tuk whimpered, her small voice trembling across the clearing.

Quaritch paused, then pivoted to Spider, his gaze narrowing at the human boy hissing like a cornered animal. － “What’s your name, kid?” － he asked, his tone deceptively soft.

Spider panted, sweat beading on his brow. － “Spider… Socorro.”Tsa’lor’s head jerked up, her ears flattening as her mouth fell open.

’𝗦𝗼𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼?’

The name crashed through her like a tidal wave, drowning her thoughts. Her mother’s name—her name.

’𝗛𝗼𝘄? 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗲 𝗮 𝗦𝗼𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗜 𝗮𝗺?’

Her mind spun, grasping at fragments.

’𝗔 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿? 𝗗𝗶𝗱 𝗜 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲?’

Quaritch stared at Spider, disbelief flickering across his face. Tsa’lor’s breath quickened, panic rising like bile.

’𝗡𝗼, 𝗻𝗼, 𝗻𝗼—𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗻’𝘁 𝗯𝗲. 𝗛𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗻’𝘁 𝗯𝗲 𝗺𝘆－’

Her thoughts fractured

‘𝗢𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗿? 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿? 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗜 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄?

She ducked her head again, praying they wouldn’t see the storm in her eyes.

“Miles?” － Quaritch said, crouching to Spider’s level, his voice softening with something Tsa’lor couldn’t place—recognition, maybe, or regret.

“Nobody calls me that,” － Spider snapped, his defiance unshaken.

Quaritch’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. － “Well, I’ll be damned… Figured they shipped you back to Earth.”

“Can’t put babies in cryo, dipshit.”－ Spider retorted, his glare unwavering.

Tsa’lor’s chest tightened, a quiet gasp slipping out before she could catch it. She ducked lower, her heart a frantic drumbeat.

Quaritch tilted his head, studying Spider, then gestured sharply. A soldier grabbed the boy again, pinning his arms, and Quaritch rose, turning to his mic. －“Iron Sky, Blue One, Actual,” － he said, his voice steady once more.

“Blue One, Iron Sky, send your traffic,” － a female voice crackled back.

“We’re standing by for extract, over.”

“Dragonfly comin’ left, we are go for extract,” － a male voice replied.

“Be advised, we’re bringing in high-value prisoners,” － Quaritch added, his gaze flicking briefly to Spider.

“Let us go!” － Kiri shouted, her voice hoarse with fury.

“Shut up,” － a soldier barked, shoving her shoulder.

“Sit tight, Blue One. We’re inbound to your pos,” － the female voice confirmed. － “Bingo in ten. On the clock. Over.”

A soldier slammed Tsa’lor to the ground again, her knees hitting the dirt with a jolt that rattled her bones. － “Sit down—on the dirt!” － he snarled, pressing the cold barrel of his gun against her temple. She froze, her breath shallow, the metal a chilling weight against her skin.

“Get down on the ground!” － another yelled, forcing the others into submission.

“Lyle, get me some audio on this,” － Quaritch ordered, cradling a holographic tablet. Tsa’lor’s eyes darted to the side, watching Lyle’s fingers dance over the controls, his expression blank.

“Shut your mouth!” － a female Na’vi snapped, shoving Kiri down beside her. Kiri grunted, her tail flicking in protest.

Quaritch’s gaze fixed on the tablet as grainy footage flickered to life. － “That’s Sully’s woman,” － he said, his voice dripping with disdain as Neytiri’s face appeared, fierce and unyielding even in memory.

“She’s an animal,” － Lyle muttered, smirking.

“Give it up, Quaritch,”－ a Na’vi voice spoke from the footage, sharp and defiant—Jake Sully, staring into the camera.

“Sully,” － Quaritch growled, his fists clenching.

“It’s all over.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Nothing’s over while I’m breathing,” － his human voice rasped from the past, a ghost of fury.

“I kinda hoped you’d say that,” － Sully replied, and then the screams erupted—sharp, guttural, final.

Tsa’lor flinched, turning her head away as the echoes of that old violence filled the air.

The eclipse clung to the sky like a shroud, the forest drowning in a thick, oppressive dark. Rain fell in relentless, icy streams, each drop a lash against Tsa’lor skin, seeping through her braids to trickle down her spine.

She stood stiff among the Sully kids, her legs quaking from hours of strain, muscles screaming under the weight of her own body. The cold bit deeper than the forest’s thorns ever had, and her breath fogged in shallow bursts, barely audible over the rain’s ceaseless drum.

She shut her eyes, forcing air past the knot in her chest. Breathe. Listen. The forest sang its fractured lullaby—wet fronds slapping together, their bioluminescent veins flickering like dying stars; the low croak of a hexapede skittering through underbrush; the drip-drip-drip of water pooling in the gnarled hollows of ancient roots.

Her ears twitched, catching the faint rustle of a leaf disturbed by something heavier than wind. But dread smothered her senses, a vice around her ribs. Miles Quaritch—her father, the demon who’d razed Hometree—if his hands closed around her throat, she’d claw her way to Eywa’s embrace first.

‘𝗟𝗲𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗲 𝗡𝗮’𝘃𝗶.’

she begged silently,

‘𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝘀.’

“Blue One, stand by ready. We’re three minutes out,” － a voice crackled through Quaritch’s mic, muffled and jagged.

Tsa’lor’s brows furrowed, her tail flicking sharp against her leg. She tried to sink back into the forest—the tang of wet earth, the sour bite of crushed ferns—but fear coiled tighter, a noose she couldn’t shake.

“Heads up, three minutes,” － Quaritch’s voice sliced through．

Her eyes snapped open, wide and wild. Tuk whimpered at a distant yip—viperwolves, their calls sharpening, circling closer. The Na’vi soldier gripping her didn’t flinch, his face a mask of indifference, but Tsa’lor’s gaze darted to Spider. His masked eyes were locked on the shadows, breath fogging his visor.

“You hear that?” － she hissed, voice barely a whisper, her fangs grazing her lip.

Spider nodded, tense. － “Too close.”

Kiri’s voice rose then, a soft chant in Na’vi, words weaving through the rain like a thread of defiance. The soldier holding her yanked her kuru hard, snarling,

“Shut up!” － Pain flashed across Kiri’s face, her braid jerking in his grip, but she only chanted louder, her voice a quiet storm.

A sharp thwack cut the air—an arrow punched through the soldier’s skull, blood spraying as he crumpled into the mud, lifeless. Tsa’lor flinched, her ears ringing, the coppery scent hitting her nose.

“Contact near!” － a soldier bellowed.

Gunfire exploded, a barrage of light and death shredding the night. Tsa’lor dropped, the ground slamming into her knees, mud soaking her palms with its bitter chill. She crawled, breaths ragged, toward Kiri and Spider—freed now, scrambling through the chaos.

Lo’ak wrestled a soldier, green gas hissing from a punctured canister as he sank his teeth into the man’s arm, a feral growl ripping from his throat.

Tuk bit her captor’s hand, the woman’s yelp—“Ow, you little shit!”—trailing her as she darted after Lo’ak.

“Lo’ak!” － Tuk’s voice cracked, small and desperate.

“Go, go, go!” － he shouted, shoving her into the trees, their forms swallowed by the dark.

“Get back here!” － a soldier roared, his gun spitting fire.

“Run!” Spider’s yell pierced the din as he grabbed Kiri’s arm and bolted. Tsa’lor’s heart slammed against her ribs, legs pumping as she tore after them. The forest blurred—vines lashed her arms, tearing skin, their glowing tips streaking blood across her flesh.

’𝗛𝗲’𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗲.’

Quaritch’s gunfire chewed through trunks, splintering bark into the air, and she swore she felt his breath, his hands—her father’s hands—reaching for her.

“Grab ‘em!” － a soldier barked. One lunged, snagging Kiri’s kuru. She stumbled, a cry escaping her—then an arrow found the soldier’s forehead, blood blooming as she fell, releasing Kiri in a lifeless heap.

“Come on!” － Tsa’lor’s voice broke, raw and urgent, as she waved them forward.

They plunged deeper, boots slipping on wet grass and trampled ferns. Tsa’lor’s ankle twisted, pain shooting up her leg, but she pushed on, lungs burning with each gasp. The trees loomed thicker, their glowing veins casting jagged shadows across the mud-slick ground.

“Go, go, go!” － Spider shouted, his voice a lifeline at her back as they leapt onto a massive branch, its mossy surface trembling under their weight.

A deafening boom shattered the world. The branch erupted beneath them, fire and shrapnel blasting outward in a roar of heat and sound. Spider screamed, tumbling into the dark, his body vanishing into a snarl of vines below. Tsa’lor’s balance faltered, her arms flailing as she caught herself on a splintered edge, nails digging into the wood until they bled.

“Spider?” － Kiri spun, her voice a jagged sob. Tsa’lor steadied herself, panic clawing her throat as she peered into the abyss where he’d fallen, the vines swaying like a grave.

“Spider!” － Kiri’s cry echoed, desperate, pleading.

Vines rustled above, and Neytiri dropped onto the branch, her silhouette fierce against the flickering glow. Her eyes—sharp, yellow, unyielding—shifted between Kiri and Tsa’lor, lingering on the stranger with a flicker of mistrust.

“Kiri! Come!” － She leapt over her daughter, yanking her up by the hand, her grip a mother’s iron claim.

Tsa’lor nodded—to herself, to the void—and turned, sprinting away, Neytiri’s fierce shouts fading into the rain. She crashed into Lo’ak and Tuk, a startled snarl ripping from her chest, her fangs bared as she stumbled back.

Kiri and Neytiri’s footsteps closed in, rapid and relentless.

“We’re clear. Everyone okay?” － Jake’s voice cut through, steady but frayed, as he grabbed Neteyam’s shoulders, then Lo’ak’s, his hands checking for wounds. His eyes lingered on Tuk, her small frame trembling as she shoved past Tsa’lor.

“Mom!” － Tuk flung herself at Neytiri, who swept her up, clutching her tight against her chest.

“Tuk!” － Neytiri’s voice broke, a sob of relief as she buried her face in her daughter’s hair.

Jake pulled his sons close, his forehead resting on Neteyam’s. －“It’s okay, we’re okay,” he murmured, voice thick with exhaustion.

“Thank you, Great Mother,” － Neytiri whispered, her eyes lifting to the unseen sky, rain streaking her face like tears.

Tsa’lor’s ears pinned back, her tail curling tight against her leg. The family’s embrace was a fortress—warm, alive, unbreakable—and she stood outside it, a shadow cast by their light. Her chest ached, a hollow pang she couldn’t name.

Eywa had spared them, the ones her parents had hunted, but Tsa’lor? She was a stain, a remnant of their sins, untouched by grace.

“Where’s Spider?” － Jake’s voice sharpened, turning to Kiri.

“They took him,” － Tsa’lor said, the words spilling out before Kiri could speak. Her voice trembled, and she swallowed hard, feeling the weight of their stares—Jake’s piercing, Neytiri’s cold as stone. － “I saw him fall. The soldiers—they grabbed him.”

Jake stepped closer, his gaze narrowing as he studied her—mud-streaked, wild-eyed, five fingers clenched at her sides. － “Alright, kid, let’s have a look at you. What’s your name?”

Her mouth parted, breath shallow under the scrutiny. － “Tsa’lor. Tsa’lor te Rìkxu Omaticaya’ite.” － The words felt like ash, and she hesitated, then added, － “Tsa’lor Soccoro.” her voice dropped, barely a whisper, the human name a wound she couldn't hide.

Jake’s eyes widened, recognition flashing.

“Soccoro..” － He paused, jaw tightening. － “Your mother was Paz Socorro?”

[maybege]

Drained

Summary: Donating blood suddenly has a very different meaning.

Pairing: vampire!Paz Vizsla x fem!!Reader

Wordcount: 3.9k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: Modern AU, explicit sexual content, dry humping, blood

Happy October everybody! I hope that autumn is treating you well and if it is not, that I can make you feel a little better with this Halloween-y Paz piece. As always, this is an AU that has existed extensively in my mind for a very long time, so it was fun to actually write something about it lol I hope you enjoy it and if you do, please leave a comment or a reblog, so we can all freak out about what a hot fun guy vampire!Paz is.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

The night air was crisp as you made your way to one of the most exclusive clubs in the whole city and your choice to wear high heels felt stupider with every step you took over the wet streets of downtown but it was too late to change your mind now. In more ways than one.

You threw another look at your phone, where your navigation app guided you down yet another dark alleyway until you arrived at a door that couldn’t look further from trustworthy if it tried.

But as you pushed the door to Vizsla’s Speakeasy open and made your way behind a deep red velvet curtain, you were suddenly enveloped in pure luxury. You could make out leather tufted booths in the candlelight. The walls were dark but shimmery, looking soft to the touch, and more than one wall was covered in golden picture frames. Jazz music played in the background, though you could not see a live band, though maybe they were just hidden in the depths of the bar.

The place was packed – so packed, in fact, that you were surprised you hadn’t heard the commotion outside. Those brick walls must be very thick, indeed.

Trying very hard not to think about the fact that you were surrounded mostly by vampires, you made your way to the bar which was set up on the long side of the room. A tall woman stood behind the counter, looking busy. The shelves behind her were stacked with easily hundreds of liquor bottles, creating a colourful backdrop.

“Uh, hi, I am here to, uh, to – “

“New donor?” the gruff woman asked, not stopping her work of wiping down the counter.

You nodded quickly, trying to make yourself feel tall and confident and hoping that no one saw how tightly you were gripping your bag.

Marylin had sworn on her new designer bag that blood donating was one of the safest things one could do (“and it gets you bags like these!”). Considering how long you had worked together, it was kind of tragic that it took four years and her floating into work with that cherry red bag that you had seen in a window one day and had dreamt of ever since to ask her where she had all that disposable income from.

After all, you both worked the same job.

“Oh, that is easy,” she grinned, “I am donating blood.”

It was common knowledge that the streets of the city belonged to the creatures of the night. At least it had been that way ever since you could remember. Your grandparents sometimes still talked about the time before vampires and werewolves suddenly appeared at every corner, drastically changing life as they knew it.

The time of change was something neither of your grandparents ever talked about. It must have been rough. But somehow, after years of tensions and deaths and protests, it all settled into something that everyone could live with. And part of that was that the cities were flooded at night with people that previously had to hide. There were establishments specifically for them, where like and like mingled, and from a young age you were taught never to go out at night.

As you grew older and actually moved from your parents' place in the peaceful suburbs to the city, you knew that nighttime was not as dangerous as they had made it out to be. The interest vampires and werewolves had in actually tearing you up was overrated and you could still go out for an after-work drink or celebrate your birthday by going out until the sun rose. There were just some streets you tried to avoid.

But a huge part of why it was no longer so dangerous was because blood banks existed. And not the kinds to save people’s lives. Although, in some way, they did. Vampires no longer having to hunt and drain innocent bystanders entirely of their blood to survive made the biggest difference in being able to share a society.

You could go to any hospital and donate blood just like in old times and, just like in old times, you were compensated with a small fee. Charitable work, truly.

Unless you wanted to get a cherry red handbag, pay off the medical bills inherited from your childhood, finally afford an apartment bigger than a shoebox, or invite your friends out for dinner sometime.

Then, you wanted to go where Marilyn directed you. Into one of the vampire-owned locations where said vampires would splurge a lot of money on getting blood that was not vacuum sealed in a medical-grade plastic bag.

“It is like a very unusual cocktail bar,” your colleague had explained, showing you her neck and wrists to make her point about how no marks were left after a few days, “And I have never felt safer anywhere else. Just try it and thank me later!”

Which is why you were now standing in front of a woman who looked nothing like how you imagined a vampire to look. She was wearing normal clothes, for one, and her tattoo sleeve did not make her look very immortal. “Name’s Steph,” she introduced herself. “Care for a welcome mocktail while you wait?”

“No, thank you.”

She nodded. “Mar sent you, right?”

It took you a moment to realize that Mar was Marilyn and you nodded, nervously looking around. There was no official dress code but you were happy you ended up going with the black pumps and the little black dress. Everyone here looked like they were dripping in understated wealth. “She said she wouldn’t be here today.”

“Nah, she only comes on Tuesdays,” Steph explained and set the glass down, “But you’re not here to see Mar.”

No, you were not, and the reminder made your throat feel very dry.

“There is no reason to be nervous,” she smiled, “The first donation is always with one of your more senior guests. They have more experience with feeding off someone alive and can control themselves if you show any signs of discomfort. If you feel in any way unsafe, just say Geronimo, and I will come and make sure you are okay, okay?”

You nodded, biting your tongue to ask how she was supposed to hear you over the noise.

“I am sure you want to get to know who is going to be assigned to you tonight – Pat!”

A woman turned around with the happiest smile you had ever seen. Her dark hair was in a tousled updo and heavy diamond earrings swung when she turned around. Though that was not what you focussed on. There was a small trail of blood down her throat and you wondered if you should tell her. How hard was blood to get out of clothes anyway?

“What’s up?”

“Where’s Djarin tonight?”

“Oh, he's gone camping again,” she explained, “He asked Mr Vizsla to take over, he should be here somewhere, I just saw him …”

“He is right here, ladies,” a deep voice said right behind you and you turned around.

You were not sure what you had been expecting. Certainly not this specimen. He was tall. And broad. And handsome.

Oh fuck, why is he so handsome?

Mr Vizsla was the biggest man you had ever seen and if you didn’t know better, you would have thought he was a werewolf. He had a strong, stubbled jaw and his dark hair was swept into a hairstyle that made you think of your grandmother's movies. He wore an all-black suit with the first few buttons undone, which meant you got a peek at his chest and the gold chain that was around his neck.

“She’s the newbie that was assigned to Djarin tonight.”

You met his gaze and immediately knew he had caught you ogling him. Shit. But then his eyes roamed over you and you swallowed, trying to stand a little taller even if your feet were already killing you. This was the most beautiful man you had ever seen and everything in you wanted to impress him. The side of his mouth quirked up into a charming smile.

“I'll take it from here,” he announced and held out his hand to you, “why don’t we get you somewhere more comfortable, darling?"

You followed him silently through the bar that seemed to much deeper in the building than you had originally thought. At one point, you even passed the band. You spotted his face in a few pictures, several of them black and white.

He looked older than you but he didn’t look old. Not like he had lived entire millennia. Maybe he hadn’t. Was it considered rude to ask vampires their age?

“Did you read the pamphlet?” he asked when he stopped you both at a small and empty booth. His hand was warm and dry, you could feel a few callouses at his fingertips and you wondered if he worked. Or if he had always been a … businessman? Bar owner?

You nodded, listing off every bullet point that had been on the online info sheet Marylin (Mar, apparently) had forwarded to your email. “I made sure to hydrate plenty, am not taking any blood thinners and my last check-up at the GP did not show anything wrong with my bloodwork. I should be good to donate blood.”

“Good,” he nodded, “do you have any questions before we get started? Anything at all?”

You shook your head. You knew why you were here but why did it suddenly all feel so fast?

His strong hand wrapped around your wrist and you let your eyes drift over the tattoos on his knuckles and the girth of his fingers and … damn it, how could one man be so … handsome? You had always thought of vampires as pale-faced, porcelain statue versions of humans. But he looked … rugged, and warm, and real. And pretty damn sexy.

“Do you have a preference?”

“What?”

With burning ears, you realized you hadn’t listened to a word this handsome stranger had said. He realized it too because he had that cocky smile again. “Don’t get distracted by my dashing looks, sweetheart,” he teased you, “This is important.”

You nodded numbly, still watching your hand in his. “I will take a bite at your wrist first,” he repeated gently, “Some people have a strong preference for where to bite and we find that it is a good test to see how you feel afterwards. I usually suggest the non-dominant hand but maybe you already have a preference?”

“No, uh, non-dominant is fine,” you murmured, holding out the hand in question.

Mr Vizsla did not look away from you though. His dark eyes were filled with mirth as he patted the spot right next to him. “Might be a bit more comfortable if you're closer,” he said and you looked down at the big space between your bodies. He was right, you knew that, but you also knew that your heart was not just racing because you were nervous to give yourself over to a vampire. No, you were pretty sure that the closer you got to him, the likelier you would be to embarrass yourself.

You really did not want to embarrass yourself.

Not even a second later, you could feel his thick thigh press against yours. Your heart skipped a beat and you wondered if he could hear it. It had been too long since anyone touched you and of course, it had to be at the most inopportune moment that you realized that.

“No need to be nervous,” he assured you, “If you feel in any discomfort if you want to stop for whatever reason, just say Geronimo and Steph is right there to punch me off you if you feel unsafe.”

“Steph?”

Who was Steph? All you could focus on was the sight of him gently cradling your hand and brushing his mouth over your palm. The touch was so gentle, yet so intentional, it made your thighs clench. His lips brushed over the inside of your wrist and your breathing stuttered. “Think of nice things,” he winked at you before his teeth sank into your skin.

An image flashed in front of your eyes. Nice might be the wrong words to describe it. You saw him – felt him, more like – bent over you, driving into you from behind. Your eyes rolled back, hands fisted into white sheets. It was warm, you were in the tropics somewhere, but that did not bother you. Because the man behind you fucked you so good you were crying, begging him for more and all you could see was –

“How are you feeling?”

You blinked, feeling dizzy at how violently you were pulled away from an idea that felt so real. What was that?

The dark-haired man still had your hand in his and you could see two little drops of blood forming on your wrist. It did not hurt, not really, except for a dull throbbing in your veins. You frowned, trying to clear your head of the image that had been so real for a moment that your body still craved being filled by … him.

“Good,” your voice felt hoarse and you swallowed, trying to get rid of the sudden dryness in your throat. He had no business looking so devilishly handsome with his lips stained dark from your blood.

Your neck would be next, you knew, and immediately your mind was filled with pictures of you in his lap, closer than what was probably appropriate. Then again, it didn’t exactly seem like society’s rules were followed in this place.

He shifted in his seat, his legs spreading and your eyes involuntarily darted to the bulge hidden by his slacks. With the dim lighting, you shouldn't have been able to see anything but still, you imagined to see a very distinguishable something between his legs.

And then an idea popped into your head that you could not get rid of.

“Would it – would,” you swallowed again, trying to find the courage to ask what you wanted.

“What, darling?” he asked, his tongue darting out to lick over the puncture wounds on your arms. You gasped at the feeling. Maybe someone should add spontaneous arousal to the side effects section of that pamphlet.

“Can I – Could …”, you stopped short, frustrated at how nervous you were.

“You want to straddle me?” he suggested his legs spreading the tiniest bit more and you could feel your core pulse at the sight of it. Shit. Fuck. Damn it.

“Is that very inappropriate?” you rushed out, “I am sorry, I don’t mean to put you into an awkward position and –“

“Hey,” he murmured, his hands on your waist gently guiding you to him “Whatever makes you feel the most comfortable, all right?”

You took a deep breath, “All right.”

His large hand was on your neck, gently cupping one side so you could rest your weight against it, offering him up all this space. There was faint music in the background and you could feel his breath wash over the sensitive skin.

Your breathing stuttered, your heart raced and you shifted closer to him, your core settling over his which made you even more.

“Calm down, sweetheart,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your jawline, the tip of his nose over your neck, “It is like I can hear your thoughts from here.”

Your laugh sounded breathy even to your ears but before you could worry about how you wanted to make sure you were not being a nuisance; his teeth sank into the soft skin of your neck.

The images returned almost instantly.

This time it wasn’t him behind you in the tropics. This time it was right where you were sitting. But instead of straddling him, you were kneeling between his legs, your mouth wrapped around the girth of his cock. You were caged in by his thick thighs, you could feel the heat of his body at your shoulders, his hand at the back of your head, pushing and pulling you on his shaft.

Good fucking girl, he rumbled in your mind and you gasped out a moan. With a particularly deep thrust, he hit the back of your throat and you gagged, your eyes eager to find him even through the tears.

The scene morphed and you were somewhere else, wearing next to nothing. There were people all around you, club music pounding in your ears. You wore a mini-dress with an orange pattern looking like it came out of one of those retro shows. But that was not what you focused on, no.

You were on him, his cock nestled inside you as he faintly talked with other people and you were just there, moving in minuscule thrusts as he kept his hands on you, his mouth occasionally on your neck, whispering things you could not hear but knew were dirty.

Oh fuck. You wanted to pull away, feeling your pussy getting wetter. At this point, you would not be surprised if you had left a wet patch on his pants. But you would be really fucking embarrassed.

The burning in your cheeks made you want to jerk back, get off his lap and run away to move to the other side of the county.

Don’t, sweetheart, you will hurt yourself.

Your eyes flew open, seeing nothing but the dark corner of the ceiling. He was in your head. Was he in your head?

You are in my head?

His mouth did not leave your throat and his other hand landed on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. Right onto the growing bulge in his pants.

Believe me, that’s my first time, too, his voice sounded amused, almost, don’t stop on my account. I quite enjoyed the little picture show.

The hand on your neck spanned wide and suddenly he was tilting your head differently and your eyes fell closed, returning to the images in your minds – and in his, too, apparently.

Your hips started moving on their own accord, grinding against his prominent erection as you found yourself chasing a high you had not felt in a long time.

Fuck, sweetheart. You could faintly hear him groan against your neck and you bucked against him again, the pressure on your clit delicious. The hand on your back wandered lower, to your ass and with how you were moving against him, it was easy for his fingers to slip under the hem of your dress.

Please, Paz, you thought, your pussy aching when his calloused fingertips brushed the lacy edge of your panties before finding the wet spot between your thighs.

Come for me, sweetheart, his voice commanded in your hand.

Countless scenarios flashed in your head, each one more pleasurable than the last but all of them too quick to focus on one. Even if you had wanted to, you would not have been able to form a coherent thought as your orgasm crashed through you.

When you came back into reality, his tongue was on your neck, closing the wound just like on your wrist before. Your thighs felt uncomfortably wet and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“Well, that was a first,” Paz breathed and you blinked, trying very hard to be present. The high you were still floating on came crashing down when you realized you were still sitting on his lap and you had just come in front of this, essentially, stranger when that had really not been the plan.

Fuck, you had to get out of here before he kicked you out. How could you have dropped the ball so badly on this?

“No movement,” his hand flexed your back, stopping you from clambering off him, “We don’t want you to get dizzy. Stay here for five-ish minutes and we will see how you feel after some aftercare.”

“A-aftercare?”

He nodded, his fingers brushing over your neck. “A mocktail and the pastry of the day,” he elaborated, “I think it’s croissants today. “

You really liked croissants.

“I am so ashamed,” you whispered, your eyes firmly fixed on his collarbone, “I am so sorry. I promise I will never come back. When Marylin explained donating blood, it didn’t sound like – I wasn’t prepared for –“

“Please do come back,” he interrupted you gently, fingers tipping your chin up until you had to meet his dark eyes, “It – What happened is rare. And I never heard of both happening at the same time.”

Your puzzled expression was enough for him to continue.

“Some people are more … sensitive,” his deep voice sent a shiver down your spine, “When it comes to feeding from them. And I have heard of the odd pair where there was a telepathic connection, but I’ve never – haven’t experienced either. There is no reason to be ashamed. Clearly, I was affected too.”

Your cheeks burned at the memory of that one image that you were certain your head hadn’t come up with.

“Though I have to warn you that if you do come back, I might ask you to be assigned to me every time,” he teased, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. You wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him. When he spoke, his fangs did not seem all that prominent but would it be different if you kissed?

“I – I wouldn’t mind that, Mr Vizsla,” you admitted quietly.

He scoffed, “Call me, Paz, sweetheart, please.”

The arrival of the waiter interrupted any further conversation and Mr Vizsla (Paz) gently eased you off his lap until you were sitting right next to him. Although the movement was slow and minimal, a wave of dizziness still washed over you and you understood why he had kept you from fleeing.

“Drink,” he offered you the fancy glass and you took it. His arm was draped around the back of the booth right behind you and you felt both comforted and nervous by how close he was.

“Slow and steady,” he murmured as you gulped down the fruity mocktail. His forehead was almost leaning against your temple and you had to resist the urge to just … relax into him.

This felt like the best sex you ever had and yet this man was virtually a stranger. But there was no hesitation in his gentle touches as he offered you the plate with the croissant and there was no flinching on your part when he put his arm around your shoulders.

Was it possible to feel such deep trust in someone you had met only once?

His phone rang and you watched as he pulled it out of his pocket, the sizable screen dwarfed in his hand. A frown formed on his face and your smile fell.

“I am so sorry, but I need to go now,” he announced with a frown on his face. With you still sitting down, he seemed even bigger and you looked up at him with big eyes. Somehow, you had hoped that he would stay. That you could get to know him more.

“So soon?”

“I have to be home in time to feed the cat,” he replied.

“You have a cat?”

“Yeah, her name is Biscuits and if her dinner is late she will start killing any mice she can find and I will not spend my eternal life digging small gravesites.” As if to prove his point, he unlocked his screen and showed you a picture of the fluffiest cat you had ever seen. Biscuits seemed a fitting name.

“Will – will you be here next time too?” you asked before you could lose your courage.

“Oh definitely,” he grinned, “Remember what I said, love, you’re stuck with me now.”

[lilhawkeye3]

Kiss prompt 24 with Paz 😍😍😍

24. Kiss of Life • from this prompt list

Paz Vizsla x Reader • prompt masterlist • divider by @saradika-graphics

You hate Mandalorian armor. Sure, you can admit it’s usually helpful. Sexy even. But right now, faced with Paz’s large, unmoving form, all the armor currently does is keep you from being able to tell if he’s breathing.

The explosion had a bigger blast radius than you’d both expected, and the debris had hit his back hard as he lunged to try and cover you.

Kark, you can’t tell if he’s breathing.

You crawl to kneel next to his head. You know you can’t look at his face, so you hurriedly tear a strip of your dust-covered shirt and wrap it around your eyes. Knot secure tight in the back, you slip his helmet off reverently and set it quickly but gently to the side. Your fingers brush his face until you find his mouth and nose and pause for several heartbeats, waiting.

He isn’t breathing.

His armor gets in the way of any attempt of CPR. You can only think of one option in your desperation.

You tilt his head forward slightly to open his airway, coax his jaw open, take a deep breath, and bend down to slot your mouth against his. Your breaths will become his as you force air into his lungs.

He has to start breathing again. You’ll kill him if he doesn’t.

When he gasps under the touch of your lips, you immediately pull away.

His fingers find your chin and guide you back to continue what you’ve started.

[dancingwiththeplanets]

Seems like a good time to reblog my favorite Paz Vizsla fic

I wrote it.

Relief

Paz Vizsla x fem!reader 

     masterlist

Summary: “I know that we’re strangers but something really awful has happened to me and I need you.”

A/N: highly recommend listening to “everything i wanted” by billie eilish before reading because that is just the vibe.

Warnings: angst, ruminating, lots of dialogue, mourning the death of a parent, deals with depression and anxiety, soft!paz, a big brute with an even bigger heart

Word Count: 11k (oops)

Keep reading

[ennkis]

FALLING IN LOVE, WITH YOU

summary : how i think the la masia boys would realize theyre in love with you

notes : this is a filler because i dont have anything finnished rn ... im making this and some headcannons a series x lmk who you want to see in the future. ALSO! im leaving for a three week vacation on tuesday (given its sunday rn) so theres gonna be less n less fics. ill have some drafts which ill post but ..

pairings : hector fort , marc guiu , pau cubarsi , lamine yamal x reader

HECTOR is considered a serious and somewhat private guy. he thinks, before sharing details about himself with others. he was cautious and discrete, even around you. although he didn't know it at the time, hector slowly began to feel more comfortable sharing every little detail about his experiences and daily life with you, no matter how big or small. when something important happened, you became his first thought. after some time, he began to realize just how much he truly loved and admired you.

PAU is still pretty young. being basically freshly seventeen, a prominent player for the barcelona team. id imagine pau to be in a relationship for over six months before he realizes hes in love. the moment he realizes the fact is when hes missing you. missing your touch, missing your voice, missing your eyes, missing you as a whole. it could be considered as clingy but he just misses you and thats what he considered as love.

LAMINE is even younger than pau but quite mature for his age. he enjoys thinking far, far ahead. lamine often finds himself fantasizing about his future—his future house, family, future in football—and while doing so, he realizes that he can't imagine a reality without you by his side. another moment where he realizes his actual feelings towards you is when you meet his family. he is a family-oriented person and loves his family, especially his brother. he would melt at the sight of you and keyne together, and the moment he introduces you to his parents and they approve, it's decided. he's in love

MARC would be smitten since day one. i can imagine him as a golden retriever type boyfriend. but the moment he realizes his love for you is when he sees you at basically every match, cheering, supporting, being there for him.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Some paz vizsla x sith male reader?

Paz Vizsla x Sith male reader

Headcanons

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.

[techsazalea]

bo katan: din, there’s 20 stormtroopers, you’ll never make it

din: …

bo katan: don’t say it

ahsoka: don’t say it

greef: don’t say it

the armorer: don’t say it

paz(rip): don’t say it

din: I like those odds

*exasperated sigh from everyone*