#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

[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.

[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. 

[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

[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.

[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.

[maybege]

Bathtime Adventures

Summary: You just wanted to use the nice bath tub …

Pairing: footballer!Paz Vizsla x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 5.7k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: Modern AU, Football AU, marriage of convenience, pining, explicit sexual content, vaginal fingering, some dirty talk, some praise, idiots in love

This is just a little snippet of an AU I thought of with the ever wonderful @mostly-megan who is also responsible for a large part of the dialogue in this story, iirc.

Basically, it is set up as a marriage of convenience with Paz, a football player with sudden (visa? PR?) problems, and Reader, who works at the team’s headquarters and agrees to marry him so he can stay the season. Lots of mutual pining, lots of pretending to be in love but actually being in love, you get the gist. It was fun just delving a little bit into this idea and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do! As always, please let me know what you think in a comment or a reblog.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

When you first moved in, Paz had only set one rule.

(“That’s the bathroom,” he had said, opening the door to the most stunning bathroom you had ever seen, “The tub’s pretty good. It’s, uh, got all the jets and settings and stuff. You are free to use it whenever except after training.” At your questioning look, he had elaborated, “I like to soak in the tub for sore muscles after training. You have my schedule anyway so just …” he shrugged, “All I ask is that the tub is free when I am home.”)

And he had not lied. His schedule was sent to your work email like clockwork every Sunday and he shared his calendar with you so you were aware of any last-minute edits to his schedule.

It was all very straightforward, really, and under different circumstances, you’d say that Paz Vizsla was a reliable and considerate colleague.

Only he wasn’t your colleague.

He was your husband.

Pretending to be married to the giant football player was more difficult. For one, you got to move into his apartment. His giant, expensive, glorious apartment was somewhere on the upper levels of a skyscraper which meant that every single room in the two stories had a full view of the city's surrounding skyline.

He had readied the guest room for you and hired a moving company so you could move your belongings. The ones you didn’t need, you put into storage. All at his expense. Or rather, the team’s expense. Turns out a fake marriage for legal and PR reasons involved much more than just two people.

*

It was Tuesday night when you decided to risk it. You hadn’t seen Paz all day but since practice was scheduled to go until 5, you figured that would have left enough room for him to go and relax his muscles. You actively tried to think of something other than Paz sitting naked in the big tub.

Sure, not only would this marriage get you the corner office and permanent position on the team’s administration you always dreamed of. But while you endured your 24 months of marriage to the man, you could also take advantage of the amenities of your beautiful home. After all, he had actively offered them. And that tub was really nice.

So, you made your way to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine. Dressed in only your robe, you felt like one of these women in the movies. White fluffy robe, a glass of wine in hand, a few candles surrounding the tub and flower petals floating on the water. Yes, you could get used to this.

Just before you dipped your toe in the water, you turned on some slow jazz music and turned off the big light. Yes, this was perfect.

The glimmering city lights paired with the golden flames of the candles gave the room the spa feeling you wanted and when you rested your head against the edge, you allowed yourself to imagine what it must be like to live this life forever. Really, you could not fault Paz for this rule. If you had all this money, you also would want to spend all this time taking bubble baths.

You watched the sunset over the city, sipped your wine, and, at one point, even tried out the jets which made the bubbles even more prominent. It was fun and warm and you found yourself wishing you could stay in the warm water forever.

Until the door slammed open. You flinched, turning around to see –

“Paz!” you squeaked, frightened and shocked and you did. Your state of undress or his state of undress. The shirt was already lying in the hallway and he had just fumbled with his belt when he stepped into the room. He seemed … Well, he looked exhausted.

“Paz, what are you doing?” you stuttered out, watching as he made his way into the bathroom as if he hadn’t even realized you were right there.  

He grunted. “Taking a bath.”

“Are – are you okay?”

“No,” he replied, “Had the worst fucking day. Practice ran over.”

You glanced outside where night had taken over. Practice must have really run over. “I – I thought – I’m sorry, I can quickly,” you made to move out of the tub but you realized just in time that you were naked and your towels were neatly folded on the other side of the room.

“You mind if I join you, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice deliciously gruff as he undid his belt. The sight was more erotic than it should have been. “There seem to be enough bubbles to cover everything up.”

You pretended to think for a moment when, really, all you could think about was how handsome he was. How broad. How the little trail of hair led to the waistband of his pants and how you would not mind seeing a little more.

You shook your head. “Not at all,” you heard yourself say, “You – you can have some wine too if you like.”

Paz just hummed. He was all sweaty and from practice, probably. But your head made you conjure up images where he was sweaty from something else entirely.

You tried to look away from him, you really really did. But there was something almost hypnotic about watching Paz take off his clothes. It was not a slow affair, not something he savoured. He ripped his clothes off like he could not wait to get out of them and he did not seem to mind you watching at all.

So, you swallowed and allowed yourself to really look at him. Your eyes roamed over his face, from his dark curls to the stubble on his strong jaw, down his thick neck to his shoulders and big arms. Really, everything about this man was just two sizes bigger than average.

And you came to that conclusion before you looked over his torso, his belly, and finally his … his …

“Scoot over, sweetheart,” he instructed, voice hoarse and you ripped your gaze from his cock, cheeks heating up at being caught. But Paz seemed so tired, that he did not even acknowledge it. When his eyes met yours, they seemed hollow, pure exhaustion radiated off him and something in your heart clenched.

Watching Paz sink into the water was a sight to be seen. The tub was big but so was he and suddenly there was not all that much space left between you.

And you found that you did not mind it at all.

The sound that left him was almost obscene. A low groan from somewhere deep in his chest that had your thighs involuntarily clenching and you were glad for all the bubbles because it meant he could not see the effect his proximity had on you.

“Here,” you offered him the glass of wine, praying he did not notice your shaking hand.

He peeked one eye open as he grabbed it. “Thank you.” He took a little sip before placing it with a quiet clink on the edge of the tub.

Silence followed.

He had his eyes closed again and he already seemed a bit more relaxed. A bit more at home.

“So,” you started carefully, “Practice ran over?”

He groaned again, though this time it sounded almost amused. “I swear by the stars that Fett wants to see one of us dead by exhaustion by the end of the season,” he joked, opening his eyes and looking at you, “Dreks came late to practice so he made all of us stay longer.”

“Five hours?” you asked incredulously, “Is that even legal?”

He laughed, a warm sound that echoed in the tiled room. “I am not sure Fett cares about legal as long as it gets us winning against the Jedis.”

You weren’t sure what it was. Maybe the wine or your own sleepy haze that had you stretching your hand out until it landed on his shoulder. “Do – I can rub your shoulders? If you want?”

The dark-haired man blinked at you and you opened your mouth to apologize for the offer, clearly having overstepped the line. But to your surprise, he nodded and a deep rumble in his chest followed. “Sure,” he murmured, “That – That would be really nice, actually.”

It was quiet when he turned around, facing the windows with his back to you and you took a deep breath. Carefully, you cupped your hands and let some water run over his back before your palms followed.

“Stars,” you whispered as your hands slid over his shoulders, “You must be so sore.”

Paz hummed and you dug your fingers a little deeper. You were by far no trained masseuse but, selfishly, you just wanted to make him feel good. So, you carefully moved your hands over his shoulders, kneading them slowly and marvelling at how much muscle one man could have in his back.

He turned his head to the side, just enough to meet your gaze over his shoulder and you found. “You can dig a little deeper, you know?” he said with a teasing edge, “You are not going to hurt me.”

“It's not that, at all. You're just … you're very strong,” you breathed, allowing your hands to slip from his shoulders down his back. You could feel the muscles begin to relax beneath your palm and Paz shifted, “And to get you so tense … you work so hard, Paz.”

He did not say anything but that did not stop you. Because the words had left your lips and now that you had this sudden courage, you could not hold yourself back any longer.

“I bet you find hardly any chance to relax,” you whispered as you rubbed over the particularly sore spot again, “You deserve to relax, Paz.”

That got him moving. He groaned again, the sound shooting straight to your core, and stretched his back. “I have an idea or two on how you can get me to relax, sweetheart,” he said, rolling his shoulders and leaning back.

It took you a moment to realise what he just said.

The same amount of time it took him to realise what he just said. What he had implied.

To be clear, the implication itself was not the problem. What was a problem was how your body reacted to the idea of making it your job to relax him after a hard training session. Of kneeling between his string thighs and laving at his cock until he was groaning and spurting his come into your mouth. You could feel your nipples harden, your core clenching, and suddenly you could think of nothing else but wrapping your hand around his cock and see whether he was as big as he was everywhere.

Paz, on the other hand, just looked sheer horrified. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to suggest –“

“Oh look, you’ve got some massage oil!” you exclaimed like it was the solution to tide over this moment of awkwardness. Without thinking you leaned over him, reaching for the oil and before you knew it, your chest was brushing against his back, the touch sending shivers all through your body.

He groaned and shit could he feel your pebbled nipples? Could he sense how turned-on you were? Oh fuck, oh fuck, this was so inappropriate of you, the poor man just wanted to relax and … what was that?

You leaned back into your original position slowly, trying your hardest to keep a bit of distance between your chest and his back when you saw his legs move and saw something that certainly was not his leg.

The fire in your cheeks rose to your ears as you quickly averted your eyes. It was none of your business what Paz’s cock looked like and it certainly wasn’t any of your business to know what it looked like hard. But now that you had seen what it looked like, you also knew there was no way you would ever forget the sight.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed, other than that it was dark by the time you stepped out of the bathtub and right into a giant towel that Paz held open for you, his eyes demonstratively closed.

“Thank you, that was just what I needed today,” he said, “Gotta return the favour at some point.”

You looked up at his words and he winked at you, before swaggering out of the bathroom, leaving you clutching the towel to your chest and pondering whether it would be very suspicious if you took a shower now.

*

When you had moved in, Paz had set himself one rule.

Don’t fuck the assistant. (Though the voice in his head suspiciously sounded like his retired-colleague-now-coach, Boba.)

And he had set you one rule too.

Leave me the tub after practices.

Those were not related at all. But when you accidentally broke the rule he had set, he found himself thinking that maybe he could break his too.

Because he wanted to. Stars. How he wanted to.

You were kind and beautiful and so funny and just the glimpse of your smile made his entire day. Which is how he adopted Kitten. Or how his fridge was now full of actual groceries and the pantry was packed with your favourite snacks.

The more time passed, the more he found himself wanting to be closer to you. It was pathetic, almost, how scared he was of asking out his own wife but it was you and he did not want to do anything wrong. Slow and steady won the race and all that.

What he had not taken into account was how annoying your colleagues could be.

He was chilling on the couch, Kitten curled up right next to him, happily purring away, when he heard the front door slam. That was already unusual because, for some reason, you always wanted to be as quiet as possible when you arrived home. You explained it away with not wanting to scare Kitten but the cat had lived with you for months now, so that could not be it. Sometimes he thought that maybe you needed a few minutes to herself before joining him for the rest of the day.

He tried not to let that hurt him.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked, both he and Kitten watching you with curious eyes as you started to tear off your outer clothes.

“I need to relax,” you stated, throwing your keys onto the sideboard and hopping out of your shoes. You said nothing more than that.

Not used to you being short with him, or in a bad mood in general, Paz did not know what to say. His hand was buried in Kitten’s fur as he considered whether offering to beat up the person who had displeased you was a normal thing to do.

“Oh, uh,” he watched as your fingers undid the tiny buttons on your dress, right there in the hallway, in front of him. “Bad day at the office?”

“Yup,” you said, your brows furrowed as you made your way to the bathroom in nothing but your underwear and he swallowed hard at the sight of your ass jiggling, “And I think you owe me at least one back rub, big guy.”

Kitten yelped when she was thrown off the couch and onto the soft living room rug, not hurt but clearly insulted at the sudden stop of scritches. “Sorry,” he murmured as he stumbled to the room, already hearing the water run, “If you could talk, you would understand.”

He found you in the bathroom, underwear strewn on the floor and the tub half-full, with your back to him as you stared out of the windows, completely silent. The fact that you loved the view from the apartment was not lost on him, he often found you gazing out the windows whenever you thought yourself alone, but your anger was surrounding you like a dark cloud.

“You want to tell me what’s going on, sweetheart?”

You paused for a second, clutching the towel to your chest and at that moment he wanted nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and kiss you senseless.

“I really don’t,” you finally replied, sounding resigned, “Is that okay? I just – I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

His heart hammered in his chest. “We can do that,” he nodded, a thousand thoughts running through his head as he tried to figure out how to turn this day around for you, “How about you get in the bath and I get some candles and maybe a glass of wine?”

“Ginger Ale, please?” you asked sweetly, “I just know wine is going to give me a headache today.”

He smiled, “Ginger Ale it is.”

His little mission not only found him getting your drink of choice but also collecting some tea lights and another set of bathrobes from the linen closet. Paz returned to find you already sitting in the bath, half submerged under a mountain of bubbles and the hand in his chest seemed to grip his heart even tighter.

Turning off the big light and carefully arranging the candles around the rim of the tub, he silently wished he had some flower petals somewhere. You looked like a dream in his home and he wanted to make sure that the surroundings matched. That you felt as comfortable here as he felt seeing you in his home.

The slope of your neck beckoned him to plant some kisses there but he bit back the urge to touch you and instead focussed on not getting hard as he took his clothes off. He had not missed the way you had ogled him last time and he knew that he had nothing to be ashamed of. But he did not want to presume that the appreciation in your gaze from a few weeks ago would return.

“Alright, lean forward, love,” he instructed you gently and you followed his words, resting your chin on your knees, “Just like that, perfect.”

A bit of warm water splashed onto the tiles as he stepped in behind you and he spread his legs, letting you scoot in until your back was barely grazing his chest.

In a matter of seconds, his mantra of don’t get hard turned into don’t let her notice you’re hard.

Which was harder than expected. No pun intended.

So he did the only thing he was good at – putting all his focus on your pleasure.

Dipping his hand in the warm water, he made sure his palms were warmed up before he softly trailed the drip of water up your spine. He could see goose bumps rising on your skin but you did not say anything, only letting your head rest once again on your knees.

“Let me know if I hurt you, ‘kay?” he asked quietly, his hands resting on your shoulders. His hands were huge – paws, Boba sometimes jokingly called them – and he found himself confronted with a sudden insecurity that his rough hands might not feel good for you at all.

This train of thought did not seem to occur to you because you turned your head, looking at him through exhausted but dreamy eyes. “You could never hurt me, Paz,” you stated, so sure of yourself, “Besides, I might need it a bit rougher today.”

Don’t let her notice you’re hard don’t let her notice you’re hard don’t let her notice you’re hard don’t let her notice you’re hard.

He had never really massaged anyone but he had had enough physical therapy sessions to know what not to do if he wanted you to relax in the bath. And so, he just touched you the way he wanted to touch you. Gentle caresses of your shoulder and back, carefully kneading the muscles of your shoulders and neck until he could feel you relax under him, digging his knuckles the tiniest bit into the space next to your spine, relishing in the soft sigh you let out.

“That feel good?” he asked, his voice rough like sandpaper. He could not resist the urge to run his hands down the sides of your torso, his fingertips grazing over the swell of your tits and his heart gave a little stutter.

“It feels so good,” you confirmed quietly and with your head turned to the side, he could see you had closed your eyes, “Why can’t every day be like this?”

“Every day can be like this,” he found himself saying, “You can demand a backrub anytime, sweetheart, I’ll be happy to help.”

“Your hands are magic, Paz,” you sighed and he watched your back slowly fall and rise with your deep breaths, “Maybe I will do that. Fuck work and anyone who thinks I am your glorified secretary. Maybe I should just embrace the trophy wife's life.”

There were so many things to unpack in what you just said. Who thought you were his glorified secretary? Who made your life harder now that you were his wife? He made a mental note to check with Boba if there was anything he could find out. He would have to have some strong words, it seemed.

“’m glad to hear it,” he whispered instead, dragging his knuckles alongside your spine down down down until his hand were submerged in the water and he could feel where your back met your ass. “You would make a gorgeous trophy wife,” he rasped, “Kitten would feel very lucky to collect pets at all times of the day.”

You hummed again, his fingers brushing the side of your chest once more and fuck, he was hard and there was no way you did not notice. Especially not when you were shuffling so you were closer, your lower back pressed against his erection in a way there was no way you did not feel him twitch.

“But I know you wouldn’t enjoy it, love,” he continued quietly, his palms running back up to your nape, “You love your work and you love seeing me in the office, all sweaty and handsome.”

You chuckled at his joke, your head tilting to the side. “You’re right,” you sighed, “Don’t want to let them win by enjoying life and spending your money for the next three years.”

The reminder of your agreed deadline let a sour feeling erupt in his stomach which he ignored in favour of enjoying the rare proximity to you.

 “C’mon,” he murmured, “Lean against me … there we go.”

“That was wonderful,” you sighed, looking completely blissed out, “Thank you. Your hands are magic, Paz.”

“No need to thank me, sweetheart,” he replied, stoically trying to ignore the erection that he was not able to hide, “Just returning the favour.”

“Maybe we should do this more often,” you suggested, slowly stretching your arm up to the sky and your chest rising out of the water and fuck what wouldn’t he give to reach to your front, cup those gorgeous tits and –

“What do you say? Maybe what happens in the tub, stay in the tub?” you joked breathlessly, your lips brushing over his jaw and a shiver ran down his entire body.

“Sounds like a plan,” he murmured, “Anything that happens in the tub, stays in the tub.”

“Anything,” your confirmation was but a whisper just when his mouth landed on yours and fireworks exploded in his chest. This was it. This was the moment of no return for him. There was no way he could go back to living life like usual when he knew how soft your lips felt against his.

“Now, let me show you how magical these hands really are,” he whispered.

*

Paz really had the most magical hands. Hands that were currently busy spreading your thighs apart in the warm water. Your head fell back against his massive shoulders and you sighed, allowing your body to completely melt into him.

“There we go,” you could feel the rumble of his voice in his chest, “Good girl, all relaxed for me.”

You were the most relaxed you had been in a long time. So relaxed, in fact, that you had not even noticed how on edge you had been, how stressed, until Paz hands had massaged away your troubles and you could feel your muscles loosen, your jaw unclench and your brain all fuzzy.

Sadly, you pussy felt very neglected and empty. A feeling made all the more prominent when thick hands spread your legs apart, inching closer to your core.

“Do you know how much time I've spent thinking about this pussy?” he asked you, his calloused fingers circling your clit and you squirmed. Considering you were sitting in a bathtub, you technically couldn’t get any wetter than this, but you still felt like there was a waterfall between your legs.

His finger was thick as he slowly eased it into you and your eyes were half-open, barely taking in the dark skyline of the city. “Oh,” you sighed, spreading your legs wider for him, trying to get him deeper than just the first knuckle.

With how the day had started and kept going, spiralling into a nightmare you could not have conjured up in your dreams, you certainly had not expected for it to end like this: In the bathtub with Paz slowly fingering your pussy, circling his thumb over your clit to get you to open up.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he whispered hot against your ear, his teeth scraping over that spot on your neck that made you do anything, “How am I supposed to get my cock in there, hm?”

The thought of feeling him inside you, of crossing that line between friendly (married) roommates to … something more, made you clench. “Just take it,” you gasped over the splashing of the water, “Just … just take me, Paz, just take whatever you want. Please.”

Paz rewarded you with his finger going deeper and you could feel your walls closing around him. His thumb steadily circled your clit and you could feel his cock right at you lower back, spiking the flames in your blood. He must have felt your eagerness, there was no way he did not, but Paz went at his own pace, stimulating and playing with you until all you could do was lean back fully against him and just … enjoy.

Enjoy the steady and carful thrusting of his finger, enjoy the way his rough fingertip brushed over your clit, making your pleasure climb and climb without making you desperate. Enjoy the way he played with your wetness and planted hot kisses on your neck and shoulder as you took in the glittering skyline through the windows. Really what was there not to enjoy?

“Are you so spaced out?” Paz’s teasing question pulled you out of your haze and you blinked, turning your head slightly to meet his dark eyes roaming over your face and landing on your lips, “My wife looks so pretty for me.”

The pet name did something to you, you could not quite explain. Your core clenched around him but your heart clenched too and you wanted to run your finger down his big nose, over his plush lips and down his stubbled jaw and tell him how pretty he was. How handsome and sexy and desirable and – oh, if he pinched your clit one more time you were sure to fall apart.

“Stars,” he groaned, “This pussy is just sucking in my finger. Maybe I should add one more?”

Stars, how could one man be so cocky and so hot at the same time? Heat rose into your cheeks at the realization how vulnerable you were, how easily he could tell how this affected you. But weren’t you in the same position? Could you not feel his leaking cock against your back?

“Oh, someone likes that idea.”

The dark-haired giant of a man curled his finger, you moaned, gripping the edge of the tub and arching your back. “There it is,” he chuckled, his mouth hot and open against your throat,” That’s the spot, hm? Oh no, don’t move, sweetheart, I’ll get you right where you need to be.”

The loss of his fingers made you pout but then he raised your leg, pulling it over his and doing the same on the other side until you were spread open by him and his hand could return to your core, now having so much more control over you. You loved it.

His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you tighter against him and the gasp you let out was not because he was circling your clit so deliciously (though, maybe that, too) but because you could feel him between your legs. Hard and so very close to where you needed him most.

Paz Vizsla was hard for you and the tip of him was nestled right underneath your entrance. If you could just –  

“Paz,” you wiggled and squeaked when his hand on your belly squeezed your tit, two fingers sharply pinching your nipple.

“No moving,” he grunted, “This is for you, sweetheart.”

And with that he pushed in two fingers, stretching you more than you were used to with your own. Your body grew slack and your walls stretched to accommodate him, the sudden change in pace bringing you to the edge even quicker.

“There we go,” he cooed, “That’s it, just take it, love, just take my fingers. ‘s a big stretch but we’ll get you ready to take my cock before you know it. I just know you will take me so well. Your pussy is just begging to be filled, poor thing.”

Stars, you wanted his cock so bad, it was not even funny anymore. And when his two fingers found that spot that had already driven you crazy when it was just one? You were gone.

“Paz, I’m –“ your hands floundered helplessly until his hand on your side moved up to your neck, gently closing around the base of your throat. Your hands, desperate to hold onto something, anything, gripped onto his forearms tightly.

“That’s it,” he rumbled, his thumb swiping over your clit, while his fingers worked you into a frenzy, “Come for me, come all over my fingers, sweetheart.”

You tried to swallow past the words stuck in your throat and you were pretty sure that you lost your breath. Waves and waves and waves of pleasure crashed over you, making you lose all sensation as your mind floated somewhere above you.

Maybe you blacked out for a moment when your pussy tried to milk his fingers, you weren’t sure. But you also would not be surprised. What did surprise you, however, was that even through the haze of your orgasm, you noted how you wished for him to fill you up. Huh. Interesting.

“There it is,” he whispered all the while continuing his movements, “Look at that. Look at what a good girl you are, hm?”

After what felt like the longest orgasm of your life, you felt like you were underwater. You could not hear properly, and your breath was so loud in your ears, you wondered if you would be able to hear your own words. Not to mention the way your heart pounded in your chest or how your muscles all seemed to be lax all of a sudden.

His hips bucked once, his tip brushing against your clit and you whimpered, still a little too sensitive. “Sorry, sweetheart,” Paz apologized immediately and there was a strain in his voice you could not unhear. How good had he been to you, how generous, when he had concentrated his efforts only on you and your pleasure. You were sure he must be close to going mad with lust if he was just half as aroused as you had been (and still were, to be honest).

Unable to ignore his need, you reached down, taking his length into your grip. He was thick and even bigger now than he was hard than when you had first seen him. Feeling him so close to you, made a new wave of desire wash over you as if you hadn’t just come the hardest you had in months. But now that you were in this position, there was no way you could not press him between your pussy lips and buck your hips, stimulating both him and yourself.

“Stars,” he cursed, “We can’t, sweetheart, I’m too –“

“Big,” you breathed, keeping one hand on his grip on your throat, “I know, Paz, you’re so – oh! So fucking big, we need to work me up to it. But I … I can’t wait until I can feel you inside me, it’s gonna be so good.”

Paz groaned, “Then what are you doing?”

“You didn’t come yet,” you pouted, “I need you to come, too, Paz. Please, I want to feel you come.”

Your husband did not reply verbally but his hand on your throat tightened a little as your slickness eased the movements of his cock against you. It was a quick and hot affair, both of you still worked up from when he had been focussed solely on you.

All it took were a few strokes later and Paz groaned so loudly that the sound echoed in the tiled room.

Paz’s orgasm erupted with the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance. He wasn’t fully inside (he really had not been kidding when he said he was too big) but you could still feel the twitching, the pulsing. The sensations made you shiver as a much smaller orgasm but still oh so great orgasm ran through you, made even better by the knowledge that you had made him come.

“Feeling better, sweetheart?” Paz asked, sounding slightly out of breath. His chest rose and fell rapidly behind you and you leaned back into it, seeking out his body heat now that the bathwater had gone cold.

You nodded, turning your head so you could brush another kiss over his jaw. “Yeah,” you mumbled, still in awe over what had happened, “I – Wow. Thank you, Paz.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he replied, his fingers under your chin keeping you close to him, “I will repeat this anytime you want.”

Somehow, you were sure this repetition would happen sooner rather than later.

[littlemissmanga]

Yooo, could I ask for some more Paz Vizsal? I really loved the Paz/F lap sitting one, I'd love to see a continuation of them, adding in all of the kinks in here to entice you/ideas. Haha. Dom Paz/Sub F. Paz edges her on more back at hideout, fingering her already hot and wet cunt as she struggles to stand from the overstimulation, rubbing up his manhood against her. Carries her to the bed, spanking her bottom and her cunt. Eats her out and then uses her as a cock warmer. Girl is BEGGING, she's down bad at this point he ain't even fucked her yet. He then face fucks her to quiet her up but even then shes slurping and moaning as she deep throats this man, she is choking on his dick and loves it. Paz grips her hair in his hand as he watches her. She was good, taking his cock well he rewards her with his finish. She keeps it in her mouth opening and closing it so that Paz can see, this gets him riled up at the sight. Paz has a big one, but with all the fingering and cock warming he did earlier he has no problem thrusting right inside at this point. Breeding kink kicks in, he wants to fill her up and he does so all night. Girl is living it rn, crying in pleasure from his cock. Paz mating presses her and hits deep, burying his cock as far as he can push it. At the end of it all her cunt is throbbing, agape dripping with cum. He tells her that she was begging for his cum so bad but here her cunt is leaking it all out. Paz runs his fingers up and down her folds before scooping his cum, pushing it back inside her.

Technically Part 1 (but this can be a totally independent read)

Author's Note: Hoooo boy, what a prompt. Girl you saucy~ Since there's so much to work with (in a good way) I decided to pick and choose various parts to stir something up, I hope that's ok with you :3

Summary: Paz Vizsla has a bounty to pick up, but he has a more important thing sitting in his lap he wants to do first.

Relationships: Paz Vizsla/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Porn without Plot, Cock warming, Unprotected sex, Some size kink, Breeding kink, A few spanks, Creampie, Armor kink, Sex in the pilot's seat of Paz's more than likely shitass broken down ship if Din's is anything to go by

Word count: 1672

The man holding Paz's bounty on this smog covered mid-rim planet is probably wondering where the Mandalorian they hired is- but Paz couldn't give less a fuck less about that. Not right now.

"Cyar'ika,"

It's the dead of night; The viewport is near impossible to see through from the outside with the glare of the hanger bay spotlights, while the cockpit where you both reside is hot and stuffy with the smell of sex. There's the sounds of taking off and landing shuttles in the distance, repair tools running and fuel lines pumping into freighter ships; But those things are of the least importance right now.

"I could keep you like this all night."

Almost the moment you landed in the spaceport, Paz had refused to let you even shift from your spot on his lap, his non-gloved hand still slick from fingering your cunt for so long during landing. The engines hadn't even finished winding down when he'd pulled out his cock from the groin seam of his flight suit, sinking himself into the soft velvet of your pussy before the hyperdrive was even cold.

He's barely moved since, hands squeezing the meat of your thighs as they spread wide across his lap.

"Make all these boring hyperspace trips more comfortable while you keep me nice and warm with this little pussy of yours."

With no trousers on you can feel the cold beskar of his armor against your skin, along with the feeling of his fingers.

You won't complain about his proposal. The idea of leisurely sitting on his lap for hours and hours, his fingers lazily circling your clit while rough bumps of space travel shift you on his cock- there's worse ways to spend your time.

His chest presses against the entirety of your back, only shifting once to sit more upright in the pilot's seat. His ship is a smaller one, and so there isn't much room to maneuver especially since you're in a seat only meant for one. But he feels massive, his body shadowing you from behind as his chestplate presses against your shoulderblades. It feels so hard and cold, your lower body completely exposed while he's largely hidden by his armor. He tossed your trousers and boots somewhere off to the side- you'll find them later.

"Paz, come on,"

You don't need to finish the sentence, he knows exactly what you're begging for. When you attempt to grab onto the sides of the seat to raise yourself on his cock yourself, Paz's harsh grip forces you back down, before giving you a spank to the side of your bare thigh. He can't hit your ass directly from this position, but he's damn close.

"Be patient."

It stings; And with a whine you settle again. Doing so makes you sink back down his cock to the base, stretching you out so much you feel a dull, delicious ache. It makes a shiver go up your spine, cunt flexing and tightening around him.

Paz has always been big, in every sense of the word. With how much he'd teased and fingered you the entire hyperspace flight here, he has no problems this time with stuffing his fat cock inside of you balls deep, feeling like he's so deep that he's in your stomach.

He loves it; The feeling of you so snug and tight around him, small in his lap. It spurs something deep within him, and even he struggles to maintain his own demand of staying still. The feeling of your cunt fluttering and leaking around him is impossible not to focus on.

"Don't you-" The head of his cock bumps a spot deep inside of you and you swear you see stars for a moment, and it's a struggle to not moan with your bottom lip between your teeth. "Have to go meet with the bounty handler?" You're attempting to convince him to pick up the pace. He won't torture you for much longer, but that doesn't mean he's just going to give you what you want right away.

"I will," His hands grip your thighs hard and slides you tighter against him, as in your attempts at grinding on him you've been sliding away ever so slightly.

"When I'm done with you."

They hired one of the best Mandalorian bounty hunters on this side of the galaxy. If they're that impatient, they can hire someone cheaper and less skilled than him.

Because he doesn't want to, but is, going to fuck his little cyar'ika first; The idea of cumming so deep inside of you will always get his cock throbbing. He starts slowly first, teasing you by gently thrusting his hips upward towards you. It's infuriatingly slow, but it's better than nothing.

When you attempt to lean forward to grip something and fuck yourself on him, he quickly grabs you back, forcing you back against his chest and spanking the side of your thigh again. It's harder this time, enough to make you gasp and give your skin a radiating sting afterwards, like the echoing noise of a rung bell.

"Didn't I say patience, cyar'ika?"

Even if he tried and failed to scold you it's right afterwards that he decides to finally really fuck you, hearing your bare skin smack against the thigh plates of his armor as he slowly begins thrusting into you. Your chest bounces in your top, panting as he slightly lifts you up with his arms, while also moving his hips.

It feels so good to finally feel him fuck you for real after so long of sitting still with a cunt stuffed past full, so close to heaven but unable to really get there.

"Paz, holy-" Your hands attempt to grip onto anything to steady yourself. The height of the chair and being on Vizsla's lap makes your legs dangle uselessly, barely able to tiptoe the ground.

The bottom of his helmet gently hits your head as he leans a little bit forward, surely grimacing behind his emotionless beskar guise. He's not always talkative, but it seems this time something in him is a bit different; Hearing all of his lewd thoughts and petnames spill out from his lips slightly muffled by his helmet.

"Kriff, you're tight- you feel good, little one?"

He can hear the wet, lewd noises filling the cockpit as he fucks you, as you leak down his cock and stain the fabric of his flight suit. He doesn't care, and if anything, it'll serve as a little bit of a reminder while he's busy and away from you for a bit.

"Yes! Just- Just a little bit more please-"

Your cunt is throbbing, leaking as if crying as his hips hit your ass over and over; You swear you can feel your heartbeat in your clit as he finally pushes you over the edge after so what felt like an eternity of grinding, fingering, and stuffing you full.

He fucks you through it, your thighs squeezing together. Your hands grasp onto the beskar plates on his arms, trying to hold onto something as your pussy clenches around him like a vice grip.

You're going to be so sore after this, you just know it, with the way he's trying to spear you onto his cock. He's close, his pace is borderline frantic; Unevenly paced as he feels your soft body bounce on his lap. Paz has never been silent during these sorts of moments, but he's even more talkative than usual now, huffing and groaning at the way your body wraps around him. Maybe it was just because of how he'd built it up for so long during the hyperspace trip, ruthlessly teasing you and enjoying it, but also knowing that once you landed, he'd be able to fuck you without holding back because of how much he'd worked you up.

The moment he finishes inside of you the back of his helmet raps against the pilot's seat, and his hips slow to a much more languid pace.

You think it's just something about Paz; But it always feels like he cums so much; To the point that it feels like it still leaks from you hours later. He loves that thought of course, and it's not as if you don't as well.

It's one of his favorite thoughts it seems, as the idea of filling you up like that almost seems to render him borderline feral at times. The idea of you getting, and being pregnant, belly round because of him; No matter if it's a possibility at the time or not. So he's intent to let you milk every ounce of it from him, until you're so stuffed full it will leak out of you and he'll fuck you all over again to shove it deeper.

'Don't waste it', he told you once.

It's just something you're reminded of, as his cock slips from you and you feel his cum already starting to leak out from your battered and sore cunt. Meanwhile your heart is still racing, pushing a chunk of hair from your forehead as you lean back limp against his chest. Your legs dangle sore from being tensed for so long, and the rest of your body feeling so awfully, deliciously sore and well fucked.

"Need a minute, little one?" You need more than a minute, but now that Paz's mind is clearing up from the drive to fuck you right this moment, he needs to earn his credits.

"Just a few."

He chuckles, and you can feel his deep voice in your chest.

"I'm going to get that bounty puck." Despite saying he's going to leave he doesn't make any sort of effort to shift you from his lap, hands still wrapped loosely around your hips. One moves upward, across your chest, only stopping to loosely wrap around one of your breasts and gently squeeze. One it passes, you feel his finger and thumb wrap around your jawline.

"Once I'm back, we have a long trip ahead of us."

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[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.

[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*

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

title: at his side (in his bed)

pairing: mand’alor!din djarin x female reader x paz vizsla

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 2586

chapters: 1/1

summary:

They call you the whore of Mandalore.

Nothing more than the woman at side of the ruler of New Mandalore, Din Djarin, a pretty little prize that he likes to share with with his General Commander, Paz Vizsla.

Mandalorians have always been good at keeping their secrets.

AO3

author’s note: this is just filthy. if you enjoy, please consider leaving a comment as they really make my day 💕

content warnings/additional tags: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), explicit language, writer considers din his first name, alternate universe - Mand’alor din djarin, use of Mando’a, threesome (MFM), degradation kink, pet names (sweet AND derogatory), explicit breeding kink, spitroasting, unprotected p in v, oral sex (m&f receiving), come play, semi-public sex, dom/sub undertones, bratty reader, fingering, no plot just smut. let me know if any are missing!

Your mind has drifted as the political proceedings occurring around you continue to drone on with no end in sight. You’re not even sure why you’ve been brought here. It’s not like you’re being paid any attention.

As if conjured by your thoughts, a gloved hand grips your thigh beneath the heavy stone table. Fingers curl into the gauzy fabric of your gown. You have to bite your lip to prevent your face from giving any sort of indication that something salacious is occurring beneath the keen gazes of the gathered leaders.

“We will not agree to those terms. The mines are plentiful. We have no use for the imports offered by Dulvarra,” the deep modulated voice of the man beside you comments easily.

Din Djarin. Mand’alor. The ruler of New Mandalore.

You peek at him from the corner of your eye. He sits reclined in the high back stone chair, an elbow propped on the armrest. His visor remains trained on the Nemoidian representative while his hand creeps further up your thigh.

His fingers brush against your center, causing you to inhale sharply. This is one of the Mand’alor’s favorite games. He enjoys watching you squirm, trying to keep your thoughts straight and your whimpers caged as he works you beneath a table or in a crowded room. His helmet picks up your quiet sounds, amplifies them for his ears alone, and he revels in the opportunity to make you fall apart at the seams.

He lifts your leg, placing it across his knee, the cold bite of beskar against your skin forcing you to stifle a gasp. The gowns he has you wear are sheer, the bodice adorned with the crystals mined from the planet that was once thought uninhabitable in its destruction. They gleam around your neck and waist, pulling the layers of delicate fabric together to cover your body only just enough to not be obscene.

His hand explores beneath the fabric that covers your core, a gloved finger running through your slick folds. You swallow harshly, slumping against your seat, curling your fingers into the stone armrest. He circles your clit once, twice, before dipping lower and pressing to your soaked entrance. All the while, he appears stoic and unbothered, aided by his anonymity and power.

The Nemoidian’s eyes flick to you. It’s brief, and for a moment you think it goes unnoticed.

You should have known better.

Din’s hand leaves you to grasp the hilt of the Darksaber from his utility belt. A broad body shifts into a defensive stance near the door.

Paz Vizsla. Al’verde. General Commander of New Mandalore.

You wrap your hand around Din’s vambrace. His visor turns to regard you. You try to convey with your eyes what you are not permitted to with words.

The room is silent during the exchange, but bursts with noise when the Mand’alor turns his head to Paz and gives him a curt nod.

The whore of Mandalore, the voices murmur.

You have learned to ignore them. The speculation circulates around the mysterious leader of the once forgotten planet rather than it does you, a human he rescued from a slave trade ship. A pretty prize for the new ruler.

Nothing more.

Paz approaches the table, standing at rest behind your seat. He holds a hand out to you.

With a lingering glance at the Mand’alor, you take the General’s offered hand, leather warm against your skin. He holds an elbow to you for you to grasp as he leads you from the table, the weight of a dozen curious eyes on your back.

The man at your side is silent, muscles tense for a fight that will never come here in the empty halls of the new palace of Mandalore.

“How are you this evening, General?” You ask, fingers curling against the canvas of his flight suit.

“Well enough,” he grunts. He has always been a man of few words, your Paz.

“You know, I’m not sure I need an escort just to return to my quarters,” you comment.

Paz turns his head, the dark visor of his helmet free of expression as he says, “Do not play dumb. It is unbecoming.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“I am not in the mood,” Paz growls. You smirk.

“A shame,” you murmur, letting go of his elbow to walk ahead of him, adding an extra sway to your hips.

He catches up to you in a few steps, his arm circling your waist as he pulls you back against his broad body, his grip on you as solid as the beskar pressing against your exposed skin.

“Do not test me, veriduur,” he says. Whore. “Do you need to be reminded of your place?”

“My place,” you hiss, “is beneath the Mand’alor. Perhaps you should be reminded of yours, t’adyc.” Second. A reminder and a threat.

Paz turns you roughly and crouches, the press of his pauldron into your stomach the only warning you receive he lifts you in the air. You struggle against him, an exercise in futility, as he carries you down the hall, the echo of his steps and the smack of your palms on his armor the only noise to be heard.

The doors to your quarters open with a whoosh of air and Paz enters, taking immediate course for the large bed in the center of the room. The breath leaves your lungs as he tosses you onto the mattress, immediately tugging you by your ankle until your legs hang off the side of the bed, his wide hips keeping them pressed apart.

“Not so mouthy on your back,” he comments as he removes his utility belt and codpiece. “I suppose that’s why the Mand’alor likes you so much.”

“He seems to like my mouth just fine,” you reply with a raised brow. “I could show you, Al’verde.”

He works his flight plants over his hips. Though the helmet shields his face, you can imagine the fury twisting the man’s features. You’ve not seen him, not with your eyes, but you are intimately familiar with the feel of his lips between your legs, the drag of his stubbled chin across your skin.

His cock slaps against his thick middle when finally freed. “I would rather teach your cunt a lesson,” he growls, fisting his thick girth.

“Not one it hasn’t learned before, I’m afraid,” you reply, a deep sigh escaping your lips. Paz removes his gloves, scarred and calloused hands immediately ripping at the fabric of your dress to expose your body to him.

“Kriffing brat,” he snaps, slipping his fingers against your wetness, probing at your aching entrance. “Does my vod always let you get your way?”

Your back arches as his fingers slip into your tight heat and you fight to keep your sounds contained, wanting to drive Paz to fury with your insubordination. His fingers drag against your walls as he withdraws and lands a harsh smack against your clit that has you crying out.

“I asked you a question, atin dala.” Stubborn woman. The lilt of his voice is pleased now that he’s broken a sound from you.

“Of course he does,” you tell him, voice breathy. “His little prize. He’d do anything to keep me happy.”

He slides his cock through the obscene wetness coating you, his modulated groan like music to your ears. The fat tip of him pressing to your entrance, forcing your body to accommodate his size with a harsh thrust into your heat.

“Paz!” You shout, back arching from the bed as your fingers seek for desperate purchase against the smooth metal of the armor over his shoulders. He’s kind enough to hold still and let you adjust.

“That’s it, sweet little whore. You scream my name,” he growls as he withdraws slowly, thrusting back inside just as slow. “Who’s fucking your pretty little cunt?”

“Y-you, P-Paz,” you stutter. Your breasts bounce with the power of his hips, the fabric that once covered your nipples loosening and falling free in his ferocity.

“Does the Mand’alor fuck you like this? Hmm?” He asks. He uses a hand to grip the back of one thigh, pressing your legs so wide it almost hurts. “Tell me, does he fuck you better than me?”

To compare the two men would be unfair, the comparison of a sun versus a dark moon. Paz is harsh, hateful words laced with lust spilling from his lips when he’s buried to the hilt inside of you.

Din, despite his hard edges, is soft with you. Gentle touches and sweet words murmured against your skin.

Where Paz can break you apart, Din can put you back together. You crave both in equal measure.

“It is not a competition, vod,” a familiar deep voice says. You turn your head, the familiar figure of the Mand’alor emerging from the shadows. How long has he been there?

“Says you,” Paz grunts. “Words of a loser, isn’t that right?”

Din only chuckles.

You whimper when you hear the clink of armor being removed. Paz gives a particularly hard thrust that has you crying out and you hear the large man chuckle.

Din smooths a thumb across your lips. “Open for me, cyar’ika.” Sweetheart. The endearment makes your heart pound and brain go fuzzy as you obey. “So good for me. For us.”

“Speak for yourself, vod. She’s been nothing but a brat,” Paz says. “Guess she just needed something to keep that mouth occupied.”

The tip of Din’s cock slides against your tongue, the salty taste of him exploding across your taste buds. You moan as he slips deeper.

“Go dark,” Din commands roughly. Paz groans.

“No,” he replies, hips picking up speed, chasing his release.

“It was a command, Al’verde,” Din snaps.

Paz grumbles, his hips going still as you whine around Din’s cock. “You may blame your riduur for having to wait for your release.”

Riduur. Your husband.

It was known by very few that the whore at the Mand’alor’s side was actually his wife. Din keeps the knowledge close to his chest, knowing what an adversary may do with the information and never wanting harm to befall you on his behalf.

“Gone dark,” Paz confirms. He slides his cock nearly free from your body before slamming back inside with such force it shifts you up the bed.

“Di’kut.” Idiot. Din withdraws his cock from your mouth before removing his helmet. His eyes remain fixed on you as he stands from the bed to remove the remaining pieces of his armor.

“Make her cum,” Din says as he returns to your side, gripping a breast in one hand as he leans forward to wrap his lips around one tight nipple, flicking the sensitive nub with his tongue.

“That another command, Mand’alor?” Paz grunts. He maneuvers your body better to his liking, pressing your thighs together and draping your legs against his shoulder.

“Yes,” Din replies. His hand slides down your stomach to swirl his fingers around your clit. You shout, throwing your head back against the mattress in a drawn out moan of both men’s names.

“That’s it, cyare,” Din says. “Be good and let go. Paz won’t fill you up otherwise.”

That thread of control you still had snaps and your release washes through you, your muscles going taut as you clench around Paz. The man growls, a feral sound that makes you pulse and flutter around his length as his own warm release floods your body.

“Very good, mesh’la, get every drop from him,” Din murmurs. You whimper as he stretches to plant a kiss to your lips. His strong nose brushes yours tenderly when he pulls back.

Paz withdraws. You feel the warmth of his body leave yours, the slow trickle of his cum from your entrance making you blush. Din’s fingers slide through the mess, gathering it up and pushing it back in as you gasp.

“Return to your post, Al’verde. Our guests have left,” Din says to Paz, eyes never leaving yours. His fingers continue to work your over sensitive cunt as you whimper and writhe against him.

Paz rights himself in his armor before turning to leave. You hear the telltale clang of metal hitting a wall, followed by a litany of curses from the large man. Helm still dark, he’s collided with a wall.

“Kriffing wall,” he says, giving the offending architecture a curse before locating the door and exiting.

Din moves himself between your legs, the warmth of his hands trailing up your thighs leaving goosebumps across your skin. He grins down at you, boyish in the vulnerability he displays for you.

“You never did answer Paz,” he says casually, even as he settles on his stomach and trails his lips across your inner thigh. “Does he fuck you better than me?”

“No, my love,” you whine as his tongue swirls around your clit. He chuckles darkly.

“That’s what I thought.”

He eats your pussy like a starving man, more enthusiasm than finesse in his eagerness to please you. Because while he may be Mand’alor by battle and blood, you are the one he bows to in this life and the next.

Your hips move against his mouth, your fingers tangling in his thick dark hair. He works his tongue against you until you’re a whining mess, begging for his cock as he just shushes you for your impatience.

Finally, he sits up. His chin is glossy with your juices and his eyes are glassy with lust as he grips your hips and turns you on your belly, yanking your ass in the air.

He doesn’t waste time sliding inside of you, the length of him stretching you in a different way than Paz’s own thick cock did not. You gasp, fingers tightening in the sheets as he pounds against your backside.

“My riduur,” he says reverently. “Ner kar’ta.”

My heart.

“Din,” you moan. “Gedet’ye.” Please.

He groans, fingers curling into your hips in a manner sure to leave the shadows of bruises by morning. His thrusts grow more powerful, hitting a spot inside you that has another orgasm building so quickly your head goes fuzzy with the rush.

“I’m going to fill you to the brim,” he grunts. “Leave no room for failure in making you round with our child. Our future.”

Your cry is muffled against the sheets as you pulse around him with your release, so powerful that you collapse to the bed, only his broad hands on your hips keeping up for his use.

He presses deep inside you, coming with a shout of your name in the dark of the room. His cock pulses inside you, another wave of warm release filling you as you whimper his name.

Din removes himself briefly in order to help you lay on your side before settling in behind you, slipping his softening cock back inside your pussy.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” Din says as he presses his lips to your shoulder.

“I love you,” you repeat to him.

You’re both quiet for a moment. You trace patterns against the tan skin of the arm that he has around your middle.

“Din?” You ask.

“Yes, cyare?”

“What if the baby is Paz’s?” You ask. It’s a valid concern. Din likes sharing and you like to be shared.

“My only concern is how insufferable my vod will be,” he says.

You giggle, the tension easing from your shoulders.

“Rest now, riduur. There is more to be done tomorrow.”

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