#paz x you

[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.

[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

[anxiousotters]

Rewatching The Mandalorian S3 and oh my god, Axe and Paz have so many fantastic little moments??

1. The eye contact when the Mandalorian fleet first touches down on Nevarro

2. The way Paz instantly volunteers to scout Mandalore’s surface after Axe does

3. Their exchange on the drop-ship

4. The little nod during the perimeter sweep

5. The fight

6. How they get Grogu out of danger together

7. Axe monologuing about the Great Forge and Paz asking follow-up questions

8. The way Paz not only believes that Axe is their best chance at getting word to the fleet but also notices the gap in the ceiling and lays down cover for him

9. Axe standing next to Ragnar when Bo-Katan re-lights the Great Forge

Proof:

[omaano]

They aren't very good at this

I blame discord for this: as in everyone was in such great agreement that it would be very cool and full of great symbolic potential if Paz was a Zabrak under the helmet, meanwhile I decided to double down on a joke and make him big and blue within his shell as well. So he is a Pantoran now with a fantastic pastel beard (and Din got the full update finally too!)

Check out more posts in my Mandalorian meets Hades hobby project at the link ;)

[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.”

Din Djarin tag list: @huffle-punk @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfell @mydailyhyperfixations @fake-bleach @justsomeoneovertherainbow @loquaciousferret @milly-louise @kirsteng42 @eternallyvenus @midnightswithdearkatytspb @leeeesahhh @hopelessromantic727 @endlessthxxghts @str84pedro @brilliantopposite187 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @garbo-lesbo @tloubarbie @afterglowsb-tch13 @uncassettodiricordi @adriennemichelle98 @mxtokko @gingersince97 @switchbladedreamz @tonysterco @rvjaa @ladymunson @sexpoisoned @trisaratops-mcgee @dreamingofdaddydin @bearsbeetsbeskar @dindjarinslegs

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[pines4thetwin]

Stan and Eda as divorced besties where they have a lil reunion when both of their world ending crises are over and Eda realizing Stan is in love with his brother and she's just like nods "I get it". Eda is in love with Lilith and I'm not taking criticism on that.

Anyways Raine = Fiddleford

[outercrasis]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x F!Reader (reader is petite, with no other descriptors)

Word Count/Rating: 3.3k / Explicit 18+ only

Notes/Warnings: Western!AU, Paz & Reader are married & both are hot heads/combative (but they love each other v much), size kink, oral sex (m receiving), penetrative sex, v light amount of spanking, more or less make-up sex, I have my own image of what Paz looks like and you all have to deal with it

Summary: Your husband finally comes home after 3 weeks. Surely you're going to welcome him home with open arms?

You don't turn when the door opens. Not for the familiar chime of his boot spurs, nor for the shuffle of his jacket and hat. You act as though you haven’t heard him – facing the window, focused on the same plate you’ve been washing since you heard the first footstep on the porch.

It's irritating how perfect this moment should be. Golden light streams through the dusty windowpane, bathing the kitchen in warmth. The enticing smell of dinner still lingers in the air. There’s plenty left for Paz. Even after three weeks you found yourself unable to adjust your portions to one.

You can feel his large presence behind you – waiting for you to turn and greet him. He probably expected a big homecoming. Fantasized about you running into his arms, kissing him desperately, crying tears of joy. It's happened before. Unfortunately for him, the Henderson boys ran by ten minutes ago to let you know they saw him riding back into town. Their warning ruined any surprise, not that you would have given him the satisfaction anyway.

Paz crowds behind you, placing his hands on your hips. You hate how quickly you want to melt into his warmth. To fall backwards into his broad chest and let him sweep you off your feet. It’s infuriating what he can do with a single touch.

You manage to find your resolve, slapping at his hands. "Get off me, you brute."

Paz chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in tighter. "Why so full of venom, ner riduur'ika?"

You let go of the plate to push at his arms. It’s futile, but you're unwilling to give up the fight. "You know damn well why. Now get off me."

You struggle further, trying to escape his vice-like grip. It's all for nothing. Paz spins you around to face him, an arm still firmly around your middle. Even through layers of clothes, you can feel the shift of his muscles.

Upon seeing his face, you gasp. Some is as you expected it. That annoying self-sure grin, the healthy start of a beard, the playful shine in his bright eyes. Some is not. There’s a new, healthy scar forming along his cheek to match some old ones from long ago.

"What did you do?" you demand.

"Now why do you automatically assume I did something to cause this?" 

"Because that's always the case. I'll bet Din doesn’t have a single scratch on him."

"Thanks to me he doesn't." He says it with a strong hint of pride and that only sets you off more. 

You push and shove at Paz, but he's still unwilling to let you go. In a further act of humiliation, he picks you up with ease and sets you on the counter. You're directly face to face like this. Nowhere for either of you to hide.

"Darlin’, would you please tell me what's gotten into you?" Paz asks. His voice is gentle. You know he's trying to calm you and you hate that it's even slightly working.

"You." 

Paz laughs. "That can be arranged if that's what you're mad about." You try and fail to kick him.

His hand wraps around your calf, a harder look settling into his eyes. It would scare you if you didn't know him so well. Hell would sooner freeze over before he did so much as pluck a hair from your head.

"I didn't come home to be name-called and kicked, so you're going to tell me what's the matter or I'm not letting you leave this counter. That clear?" 

You resent the heat you can feel pooling low in your stomach at his command. Even worse is that he knows it too. All your buttons have long since been discovered and Paz knows just how to press every one. 

There's no getting out of this. Paz stares at you expectantly, willing to wait this out. The anxious soup churning in your stomach rolls and the fire burning in your veins dies only a little at the realization of there being no escape. He has you pinned.

You're not ready yet to talk. Instead, you reach out towards his face, inspecting the new cut that mars it.

You're happy to note it's clean despite the thin layer of dirt and grit that otherwise clings to the fine lines of Paz’s face. It doesn't seem as deep as his other scars and may even fade in due time. All in all, it's not as bad as it could have been. That doesn't make it any better.

You hate this feeling in your gut. The knowledge that your husband lives a dangerous life. Today it's a small cut, tomorrow it's his guts spilling on the cold, hard ground and becoming food for vultures. Paz doesn't know the terror that seizes you when Din crests a hill before he catches up. The thought every time that this is the time he doesn’t come home.

Your voice is small, half mumbling. "You promised."

Paz leans in towards you. "What was that?" he asks, voice still this side of mean.

You take a deep breath, resteeling yourself. "You promised."

Hot tears well at your lashline unbidden. Paz's face becomes wobbly, but you can see the confusion and concern written across it. The anger deep within your chest is reignited. It’s worsened when a tear finally falls and Paz gingerly wipes it from your cheek.

"You said you would talk to me before you took another job."

"I said I would try to."

You punch him hard in the shoulder. It doesn't hurt him in the slightest, but it's satisfying all the same. "Don't play word games. You promised me. You said you would and the next thing I know you're off with Din again."

"I left a note," Paz says, his chest puffing slightly. 

"And what a note it was," you spit back. "Gone on a bounty hunt. Be back soon. You'd think you went out to the saloon for the night with all the information you shared."

"I'm getting tired of going over this with you."

"That's why I asked you to talk to me before you leave,” you shout. 

Paz leans down to get directly in your face. The gray of his irises darken, like clouds before a thunderstorm. “You want to watch that tone, little miss?”

“I'll watch my tone as soon as you stop being an asshole. Oh wait, that'll never happen.” You try to push him away only for his arms to circle around you, pulling you flush against his body. 

Your legs are spread wide to accommodate his frame. You swallow a moan as your center is pressed against the bulge in Paz's trousers. Refusing to allow your baser urges to control you, you feign disgust instead. “You're a pig.”

Paz pulls you impossibly closer. One of his hands finds its way to the base of your skull, effectively scruffing you like a cat. “You had better find your manners real quick or I'm going to find them for you,” he grits out.

“Good luck.”

His lips are rough on yours. The kiss is more a clash of teeth and tongue than anything romantic. You detest the way your body easily betrays you and yields to his advances, but it has been a long three weeks without your husband. And there's no need for you to make things easy on him either.

You hook both your legs around his and pull them tight. He can't get any closer, but you still feel the way the pressure makes him stutter. You mimic his hand, pushing your fingers into his toffee colored locks, and pull him into you. He moans but then moves back from your embrace.

“Clearly this isn't teaching you any manners. I'm going to have to do a better job.”

Without any warning, Paz then lifts you up in a fireman's carry and hauls you off to the bedroom. You shout and pointlessly drum on his back to put you down. He responds with a smack to you ass that you can feel through your skirts.

Paz drops you onto the bed without ceremony and quickly positions himself over you. His large frame fills your vision entirely. The fabric of his shirt is pulled tight against his muscles, providing you with a delightful show, and you notice the obvious flush running down his neck. 

“Now I'm going to give you one more chance here, darlin’. You get yourself undressed right now and with no fuss, or I'm going to tear that pretty dress right off you.”

A rush of desire courses through you. As tempting as that sounds, this is one of your newer outfits and you'd rather not spend tomorrow trying to mend it back together. 

You shamelessly start to undress. Paz's gaze is heavy and eager. He looks exceedingly pleased with himself, convinced that you've decided to show him some manners. Poor cowboy doesn't know what you have planned.

Paz removes his vest and shirt, pulling back from his position over you. It provides the perfect opportunity. As he leans back over your now bare form, you quickly kick your feet up and plant them firmly on his chest. Despite Paz's size, your legs are powerful enough to keep him at bay.

His eyes widen in surprise for a moment before clouding over again. “Just what do you think you're doing, mesh'la?”

Your smile is wicked. “Nothing, riduur.”

You trail one of your hands along your body – Paz's eyes tracking them like a bounty that's close to getting away. You can feel the rumble in his chest as you slowly wind downwards.

“Don't you dare,” he warns as your intentions become clear.

You disregard him entirely and continue your path, not stopping until you've sunk a finger into yourself. The noise Paz makes is choked. Your pleasure doesn't last very long.

After only a few strokes, Paz makes his move. He backs away from your legs, quickly catching one under his arm and tearing your hand away from yourself. You would think the way his chest heaves is purely due to anger if it weren't for the obvious tent at the front of his jeans.

His large hand cups and covers your sex. You wait with bated breath to see what he'll do next. “Looks like I've got my work cut out for me,” he says and plunges one of his thick fingers into you.

Another day and you'd be embarrassed by how wet you've gotten. It's an afterthought at the moment. One of his fingers feels better than any and all of your attempts to feel full while he was gone. The noise he pulls from you is wanton and needy. 

“This what you need?” Paz asks. “Something to fill that little pussy of yours? Will that stop making you act like a goddamn brat?”

As good as you feel, your anger hasn't been snubbed out. “You think that's filling me?”

You watch as that comment makes something bigger within him snap. It makes your heart race with anticipation. In a flash, Paz has taken a seat on the edge of the bed and stretched your body over his knees. You hardly recall the feeling of his grip around your ankles.

His hands are greedy – touching and grabbing at every inch of your flesh. Just as you're about to make another comment, his hand comes down hard on your ass. You jump, hissing at the sting.

“Is this what happens when I'm gone for too long?” Paz asks. His hand cracks over your ass again. “You forget your manners?” 

You anticipate another sharp smack, but he surprises you with a soothing touch. His hand then glides over your curves and he presses two fingers into your pussy. The slight burn of the stretch is perfect. “Forget who this cunt belongs to?”

There's nothing gentle about the pace he sets. It's punishing, making your arousal drip down your thighs. He adjusts his fingers to find your clit, nearly overwhelming you completely. There's nothing you can do in this position but take it.

Your orgasm inches ever closer. Paz’s fingers glide over that spot you can never seem to find yourself, making you clench around him. His demeaning tsk glides past your ears. He changes his rhythm slightly and just as you're about to make that final leap he stops – going so far as to remove his hand from you entirely.

You whip your head around to glare at him over your shoulder. The look on Paz's face makes you finally understand Din when he calls it punchable. “Only good girls get to cum,” he says, punctuating his words with another light spank. You could really kill him now. Unluckily for him, you are capable of much worse.

You're not blind when it comes to your husband. You know his virtues just as well as his faults and although it has improved, his pride is still easy to take advantage of.

“Do you want to be good for me, mesh'la?” Paz asks. It's sweet that he thinks he has the upper hand.

You don't answer. Instead, you crawl off his lap and move to take off his trousers. Paz thinks this is a good sign. He really ought to know better. Maybe three weeks away made him forget who he belongs to.

His position on the bed is perfect for you. The self-sure grin tells you he doesn't suspect a thing. It's easy to further distract him by trailing gentle kisses along his body. You're relieved to see no further injuries he may have been stupidly trying to hide. It wouldn't be the first time.

You smile as Paz's eyes slip closed. He's so predictable.

Rather than settling yourself between his legs or on his lap, you turn around. He doesn't even catch on until you have his wrists pinned with your feet. You wrap your lips around his cock, humming as you hear Paz growl with frustration. In this position he's only able to look – not touch.

The pace you set is just as unrelenting as the one he used on you. He can do little more than moan as you overwhelm him with pleasure. 

Although there's no way to know for certain, you know Paz can't take his eyes off of you. Even if he wants to, the temptation is too strong for his eyes to close. You're so tantalizingly close, so fully on display, that he's powerless. It's not long before his bravado crumbles.

“Dar- darlin’ please. You've made your point, just, ah, let me touch you.”

You don't give into him just yet. As sweet as he sounds when he begs, you aren't satisfied yet. His hips jolt as you redouble your efforts. You missed the weight of him on your tongue and the ache in your jaw. 

“Please,” Paz continues to beg. “I can see the way you're clenching, let me take care of that for you.”

You can feel your wetness dripping down your leg at this point. Paz tenses beneath you, his breath hitching. You're finally able to take your revenge. 

You pull off of him, only leaving your hand to lightly squeeze at his base. You even sit up slightly, hiding yourself from his view. You sacrifice your pin, but it's worth it with your objective already achieved.

Paz wastes no time. You're flipped onto your back, his large frame once again filling your vision. “Are you going to be a good boy for me?” you ask, throwing his words back at him.

Thankfully he looks more amused than annoyed. “Can't help yourself can you?”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to you. “Just shut up and fuck me already.”

His lips muffle your moans as he pushes into you. He groans back in response, relishing the way you open up to him. Despite his size there's no resistance. Neither of you will last long like this.

Words are beyond you both. Your nails dig into the meat of his shoulder – the other hand tangled into his hair. Paz holds you steady with one of his big hands on your hips. He trails hot kisses down your neck and onto your chest, no doubt making bruises rise. Normally you'd care more about making him stop. You do have an appearance to uphold in town.

Pleasure overwhelms you, your face twisting with it. There's no time or point in giving him warning. Paz lets himself go as you do, your peaks combining into one.

You miss his weight as soon as he rolls off. He lays back onto the pillows and you're quick to follow, using his chest as yours.

It's quiet as you both come down from your highs. There's a tension that still lingers in the air.

You trace idle loops above his heart, taking note of a few more grays making themselves known in his smattering of chest hair. You're unwilling to burst this small bubble just yet. Paz does it for you.

“Care to tell me what had you all worked up?” he asks. “I'm smart enough to know it wasn't just this.”

“What makes you think this had anything to do with it?” you challenge. 

Paz squares you with a truly incredulous look. “I'm not that stupid, neither.”

You sigh. He could have at least given you both a moment longer in the afterglow. “I already told you in the kitchen. You said you'd talk to me before you left again.”

He scrubs a beleaguered hand over the uninjured half of his face. “S'not like I really had the time, darling. We have to move fast when a trail gets picked up or we'll lose ‘em. Either to distance or other hunters.”

“I am not asking for much, Paz. A bit more of a warning. A kiss before you saddle up and ride out. Nothing more.”

You wish you could ask for more. Ask him to never take another job – to never leave you again. To hang up his holster and spurs to live out a nice, quiet life with you until you're old and gray. You can't though.

Asking for him to change would be asking for a different man. All you can do is sit by, pray to any higher power that might exist, and hope that he'll come home to you. A moment's more time with him before he leaves again doesn't feel like too big a request. It's not too much change.

Paz still looks frustrated. He pulls you off of his side and onto his body so that you're on top of him. His hand reaches up, thumb brushing over your cheek. You do the same, but make your best attempt to smooth away his worry lines.

“I can't have you asking me to stay,” he finally says.

“What?” You don't understand what he means.

“If I agree- if I tell you when and where I'm headed, you can't ask me to stay.”

“Paz, I don't-”

“If you ask me to stay, I won't go and I can't have that. Din can't have that. He needs a partner to make sure he'll come home to his boy and I'm the only one dumb enough to join him every time. So I can't have you asking me to stay.”

Your anger finally dissipates as his words sink in. He's still not completely forgiven, which you'll be sure to let him know, but you can allow yourself to soften. There's a look in his eyes you've never seen before. It's almost fearful.

“I won't ask you that,” you promise. “I just need you to share a little more with me.”

You run your fingers through his hair, noting that the curly ends are starting to become just a bit too long. Maybe you'll convince him to sit down for a trim tonight before he takes matters into his own hands and shaves it all clean off.

“Thank you, riduur.” Paz smiles. “Now, can I get my proper welcome home?”

You scoff and swat at his chest, this time far more playful than before. “There's some dinner on the stove for you,” you tell him, pointing to the kitchen.

Paz grins, wide and sharklike. “I've already got my meal here.” 

A/N: Yeah I'm aware this being a Western AU wasn't a major component here but that's why this is my fic so ya know, I can do what I want

[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. 

[cora-vizsla]

Yes, it was all just a bad dream. This is cannon now.

Dush nuhoy'sure - Bad Dreams

Pairing: Paz Viszla x You, Paz Vizsla x Reader

Wordcount: ~1100

Tags: Light Angst, Fluff, Sorta Fix-It? (my little fic world is not canon-compliant anyway), "Mando'a for Beginners" 'verse,

A/N: A while ago I wrote a little thing where Paz needed some comfort after a bad dream, and then S3E7 happened, and Reader from my little Mando'a for Beginners fic suddenly had the worst dream of her life and Paz had to run and comfort her.

You're gonna have to rip Paz from my cold dead hands before I let this di'kut (affectionate) go.

Translations at the end. Also available on AO3 (link in the replies).

---

Ch. 1: Paz

"Can I hold you?"

The familiar deep voice sounds sleepy and choked up. Sitting in the space ship's small common room, you look up from the square you're crocheting and see Paz standing in the corridor. He just woke up, it seems, wearing only his PJs and his helmet. His shoulders are slumped, arms hanging on his sides, but his hands are opening and closing nervously.

"Always." You nod and put your yarny project on the table. A few strides take you over to him. He seems glued to his place but his hands reach out and pull you close as soon as you're within his reach.

You wrap your arms around his waist, squeezing lightly. He sighs and holds you tight, fingers digging into your shirt, bunching the fabric.

You start running slow, calming circles on his back with your hands, and after a while he starts to relax a bit.

Minutes pass.

Eventually you retreat just enough to look up to him. The visor is dark, but you can make out a hint of visor-tinted eyes. You always find them.

"What's up?" you whisper.

He sighs, then grumbles "Bad dream."

You hum acknowledgingly. "You wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Later?"

"... Mm-hm."

"'Kay."

You stay put where you are, wrapped up in his arms, worried, but also basking in his warmth and closeness.

The helmet hisses and you feel a kiss pressed on to the top of your head.

"Thank you." It's short, quick and unmodulated, and if it weren't for the helmet-closing hiss you would have thought you dreamt it.

You look up again, once you're sure the helmet is in its proper place again, and with tippy-toes reach to the front of his helmet with your own forehead. He returns the keldabe, lowering his head so you're more comfortable.

"Always," you whisper and he groans and holds you tighter, wishing the pictures from the dream to disappear, but they keep playing again and again in his head:

You, falling into endless blackness and he, skydiving behind you, never reaching you, jetpack fuel running out....

---

Ch. 2: You

"Paz!"

The thick door closes shut with a loud clang and then there is silence. No sound, even as you desparately bang your fists at the ungiving metal. No sound, even as you scream, and claw at it, willing it open.

Willing Paz to get out of there. Willing the assaillants to just fall dead and leave him be. 

But the door is unyielding and you watch in horror as Paz is slowly overwhelmed and you can't do anything and you scream and scream and scream.

And then he falls. Hits the ground. You can feel the thud. It ripples through the door like an earthquake from its epicenter right through to you and your heart stops.

Shatters into a thousand pieces sifting through your bruised bloodied hands.

---

You jerk awake with a gasp, cold sweat clinging to you like the nightmare's claws.

"Laarika!"

The door of the sleeping compartment that you and Paz share, whirrs open and Paz all but falls in, highly alarmed, blaster drawn.

Your throat is dry and sore, you're desoriented, the light from the corridor burning in your tear-filled eyes. You can't even sit up and so you just lie there, breathing heavily, heart racing.

"What's wrong?" Paz looks around with practiced but somewhat frantic precision for whoever hurt you, knowing all well that there should be only you and him on this ship.

"Paz...", you choke and he sits down and pulls you gently to his chest. You wrap all fours around him and cling to him, digging into his flightsuit, and he holds you, holds you, holds you tight, as you bury your face into his flak vest and cry.

You cry out the feeling of utter helplessness, of loss and anger, and he sits there solid like a rock amidst the waves of your tears, worried about you and whatever may have caused this sudden onslaught.

It's the last moment of the dream you can't shake off, when he just clonks to the ground like a ragdoll and doesn't move anymore - it plays in your head again and again and again and again.

"But he's here!" you scream at yourself inside through the brainfog, "he's here he's here he's here", and you cling even more and your muscles start to hurt and twitch but he's here, and he's warm and alive and he rubs gentle circles on your back and..

"Laarika. Breathe."

You try to breathe in - and eventually fresh air does reach your lungs, even tough it's through hitched sobs.

He's here, and you can feel him, and smell him and hear him and..

You look up, find his eyes in the visor, locked on to you and worried. He cups your cheeks and gently wipes away some tears with his thumbs.

"I've never heard you scream like this. It rang through all the way to the cockpit!"

"I saw you die," tears refill your eyes as your lips start to tremble again. "I saw you die, and i couldn't get through to you. Through the thick door. I couldn't get through, I couldn't .. there was just this thick door and silence and shadows coming for you from everywhere and I couldn't do anything... "

He remembers his own bad dream he had a while ago.

"That's the worst thing about nightmares," he mumbles quietly. "Being helpless. Not able to do anything..."

You nod weakly.

Silence falls around you, as you both hang in your own thoughts, the background hum and beeping of the ship wrapping around you like a safe blanket.

Then Paz's arms tighten around you.

"Couldn't reach you, too," he grumbles. You look up and see his eyebrows knitted together through the tinted visor. "The other night, I mean. You plunged and plunged, always out of reach. And I was too slow. Just.. too slow... " You can hear his grinding teeth even through the helmet.

You sneak a hand under his buy'ce and cup his scruffy cheek. "You got to me now..."

He nods and leans into your hand, calming down himself now.

"Thank the stars this door opened voluntarily." He chuckles and you can only imagine what he'd have done to the door had it been less willing to open.

He bows his head and connects his forehead to yours, and, breathing in, you find that you've calmed down, too.

"You okay now?"

"Yeah," you whisper. "You?"

"Hm," he confirms.

"Can we snuggle a bit?"

He doesn't answer, but switches off the light and climbs into the bed, placing the helmet under it.

You curl up, and he curls around you, and soon you fall asleep again, feeling safe and secure between the cool shipwall and the warm wall that is Paz.

---

Translations and pronunciations (if available) from www.mandoa.org, and The Total Guide to Mandalorian Language by Tal'jair Rusk:

dush --- [doosh] --- bad, wrong nuhoy'sure --- dreams (I made this up xD) from: nuhoy -- [noo-HOY] -- sleep (n.) sur -- [soor] -- sight, picture before the eyes, something the eyes see at the given moment -e -- plural suffix after consonants

keldabe -- headbutt (in this case, softly bringing each other's foreheads together xD)

Laar'ika -- Little Song, Paz's nickname for Reader, from: laar -- [lar] -- song and -'ika -- diminutive suffix

[onskepa]

Helllooo, could I get a Rapunzel AU fic? In this universe Spider would be the rapunzel of the story, he gets stolen from his family, the Sullies, at a young age (he was adopted by Jake and Neytiri a couple of months after his dad’s death, although he really isn't) Quaritch would be the mother gothel of this AU, keeping Spider in a tower because his magic hair is what is helping him keep being alive. Then Loak would be like Flynn, but in this case a prince going through a rebellious phase, so he stills his older brother crown ( he doesnt really know Spider, cause he was a baby when he was kidnapped) his thief name is “Tulkun” and his partners in crime are Lyle and Z-Dog.

Quite the intersting idea I gotta say, none the less! I hope you enjoy this one!

---------------

Our sun

The sun gives life to all, brings warmth and comfort. With its bright radiant light, it guides everyone to their path. Brings happiness and provides. A great gift humanity has ever gotten. For centuries, humanity has shown their gratitude in many ways. Praising, worshiping, believing the sun is their god. 

A god that is powerful and strong. The Omatikaya kingdom knows that better than anyone in the world. Festivals, sigils, legends, their symbol of the kingdom, all were dedicated to their sun. 

For centuries the kingdom has never wavered their belief in the sun. Remaining strong and true. Always grateful and never greedy. And so, the sun god who was also grateful for the people the sun provides to, believes they deserve a gift. 

A drop of sunlight fallen from the sky has touched the Earth. Gifting the king and queen of the Omatikaya their beautiful sunshine child. 

That is what the story says of course. 

“He is beautiful…” Jake Sully, King of the Omatikaya kingdom, gently coos at his believed son. Beside him was his queen, his love, and mother of their golden child, neytiri. 

“He is perfect,” Neytiri smiles as she rubs her nose gently against their sons button nose. He gives light giggles in satisfaction. Their son, their beloved child. A gift from the sun. His beautiful golden curly hair, bright blue eyes that can rival the sky. And his smile, so radiant and infectious. Their son, the kingdom's golden prince. 

Wrapped in the finest silk with embroidery intricately designed to that of the sun. The young baby was very much  snuggled in great comfort. 

“My lord, my lady, it is time” tsu’tey, their closest friend and top chief of the Omatikaya army, tells them. 

“Come on, we dont want to keep our people waiting” jake gently leads his wife towards the top balcony that oversees their people. 

“Yes my love, our people shall know of our sunny prince,” Neytiri says while she boops her baby’s nose. 

“Have you chosen a name for him?” tsu’tey asks as he follows closely behind. Neytiri chuckles as she shares a look with jake. 

“Spider, we chose to call our son, spider” 

The people cheered and roared out in happiness once the royal couple had presented their son. Many were in awe at how such an adorable child could ever exist. Truly a gift blessed from their sun. 

Many threw flower petals, confetti, horns blowing out, little children waving their flags. The crowd was booming with noise. All eyes on the prince. Including one set of icey blue eyes. Glaring at the royal family. 

No one noticed him. All too busy celebrating. A tall menacing man with a dark cloak to hide his face. The man glared with hate. Just how dare they? 

How dare the king and queen lie to their people? How dare they lie that their ‘son’ was a gift from their light above? How dare they lie and say the boy belongs to them? Lies, all lies. 

But Quaritch knows the truth. That baby, the child the royal couple holds is his son. His blood! His ‘wife’ was a foolish woman. Giving away their child to the royals. She is at fault in this mess too! Too bad she is dead otherwise quaritch would have given her a piece of his mind. But it is not too late. Good thing he still remembers the ins and outs of the palace. After all, he used to be their top chief. The king’s once right hand man. Now replaced by that snarky brat. 

Quartich will have his revenge soon enough. He will have his son back one way or another. 

Night came, and silent as an owl, quaritch entered the royal bedroom without a squeak. Quietly and effortlessly he passed by the couple who were sleeping soundly. Beside them was the cradle where HIS son was sleeping. The cradle was elegantly crafted with golden trims and plush pillows. Only a few days old and he is being spoiled rotten. Cant have that. 

Grabbing his scissors, quaritch goes for the baby’s golden locks. His hair will be a dead give away if anyone finds him. However, just cutting a small strand, the piece of hair turned dark brown and the baby began to cry. 

There was no time. 

When Jake and Neytiri awoke to the cries of their child, they were too late. 

In their eyes, a dark hooded figure stood at the balcony with their baby in his arms. Before Jake can reach him, the hooded figure jumps off and into the dark forest. 

Neytiri cried, not believing what just happened. Jake was quick to call out the night guards. Alarms were sounded, tsu’tey was quick to gather his army to search for the thief who stole their sun.

18 years later 

“Get your ass over here!” Z-dog, a professional female thief, growls at the little brat who seems to be taking his sweet ass time. Opening the top trap door that led  straight down to the golden crown that was heavily guarded. Lyle, her partner in crime, was also getting impatient. 

“Just a sec….wow……this view is nice, very nice…..guys I want my own castle” a young boy spoke. Age 14 and already making a long list of crimes against the kingdom. This will be the biggest one yet. 

“When we do this job, you can have you own castle” lyle grits his teeth as he yanks lo’ak back to the missions. Tying the rope on his waist, they lower lo’ak down to the crown room. 

Quickly he shoves the gold crown into the satchel until one of the guards sneezes loudly. 

“Ugh, day fever?” lo’ak asks. 

“Yeah” the guard answers casually. Until he realized what just happened. Looking up, he and the other guards saw lo’ak being pulled back up and quickly make a run for it. 

“What a great day to be aliiiiiiiiiiiiive!!” lo’ak shouts as he, z-dog and lyle run across the bride that connects the forest and the kingdom. 

The three ran fast at top speed. They already knew the royal guards were on their way to hunt them down. Capital punishment awaits them. tulkun might get some leeway. He really only wanted adventure, but for sure he does not want to really suffer the consequences. 

As they ran for it, they halted to a dead end. Hearing the soldiers nearing, acting quick was needed. 

“Give me a boost and I will pull you both up,” Tulkun said in a hurry. 

Z-dog and lyle looked at each other and then at him. 

“Give us the satchel first” z-dog says as she reaches for it. 

Looking quite offended, Tulkun places a hand over his chest, “I cant….after all we have been together, you guys still dont trust me?” 

Dead looks was all he was given. 

“Ouch” 

He gives the satchel to z-dog and the three were quick to holl up lo’ak. Purposely stepping in z-dogs face as he reaches the top. 

“Now help us up, pretty boy” she demands while reaching her hand up. 

“Sorry, but my hands are full” tulkun smirks while holding the satchel and makes a run for it. 

“What the- TULKUUUUUUUUUUN!!”

That was close, way too close for tulkun’s liking. Tsu’tey was close to seeing his face. If he did then its game over. For now, he will have to lie low, no doubt his family will be worried to death about him. His parents are way too protective. They will be even more once he gets back. Not something he looks forward to. 

For now, he found a little cave that was actually a little entryway to a tower. How long was that there? 

Not giving much thought he was quick to climb the tower and shut the doors[?] windows. Finally being able to be at peace, he opens the satchel to see the golden crown. Sighing in relief. 

“Hello at last-” 

Darkness was all he saw. 

“Who are you and how did you find me?” 

Miles demanded to know from the young stranger. Tied to the chair, miles made sure his long dreads were enough to make sure the invader didn't escape. Who the hell was he to just climb into someone's tower unannounced? And talking to themselves? 

Father was right, there are crazy people out there. 

“Is this….all hair?” the stranger asked as he looked at his long dreads. 

“Hey! I asked you first! Answer!” miles shouts. Holding the pan tightly, he points it at the stranger. His little friend, payakan climbs on the pan, looking dead in the eyes of the stranger. 

“Is that a blue lizard…?” the stranger asks another question. Do all strangers keep on asking questions? 

“Hey! I get to ask questions here, not you! Got that?” Miles narrows his eyes trying to look as threatening as possible. The stranger rapidly shook his head agreeing. 

Miles starts to walk around the stranger while swinging his pan. 

“So stranger, have you come for my hair? Cut it? Sell it?” he begins to accuse. 

The stranger looks at him confused. 

“What? No! Look, I came here to hide because a horse is on my ass! And now I have to-wait wait! My satchel! Where is my satchel!?” 

Crossing his arms, confidently smiling, miles responds “I’ve hidden in, somewhere where you will never find it” 

The stranger looks to his left, “It's hidden in that pot, isn't it?” 

BANG! 

Tulkun woke up once again, this time feeling something wet in his ear. Turning he sees the weird blue lizard outstretching his long tongue in his ear. Feeling grossed out, he shouts, “STOP THAT!!” startling the lizard. 

“Now I’ve hidden it somewhere you’ll never find it” the weird boy says. 

“Now back to the main question, how did you find me?” the boy asks again. 

“Look, in all honesty, I was running through the forest ok? I have an army at my ass and a horse! Just give me the crown back and I will leave. Alright?” tulkun replies honestly. 

The weird boy, or guy since he looks older, stares at him confusingly. 

“Wait, you don't want my hair?” he asks. 

“Why on earth would I want your hair? Actually, why do you even want your hair this long? Don't you have a knife or scissors in this place?” 

The weird guy didn't say anything. Walking away at some distance to talk to his blue lizard friend. Whispering some stuff he couldnt make out. However, using that time to try and free himself. No use, the guy tied him up pretty dang good. 

“Alright, it seems you are saying the truth. Now to important matters, look over here” the guy says as he shifts his hair for the chair to move, making him land on his face.

Lifting a curtain aside, the boy reveals a beautiful painting on top of an empty chimney. It showed a dark blue sky with lanterns floating up in the sky. 

“Do you know what these are?” the guy asks. 

“The lanterns? Yeah, they do that for the lost prince” tulkun says automatically. No real emotion behind it. Holding in his indifferent feelings for that specific day. His face is starting to hurt against the floor. Trying to push himself up, he couldn't hear what the guy said. Until suddenly he was being lifted up. 

“I have a deal I want to make,” the weird guy said. 

Take him to see the lanterns and in return he gets the crown back. No big deal. Seems simple enough. Except for one thing. 

“WOOOOHOOOOOOOO!! 

“What have I done?” 

“I LOVE THS!!” 

“What if he finds out??” 

“I DONT CARE!!” 

“I am horrible” 

“I FEEL GREAT!!” 

“I'm going back, i'm a horrible son” 

“I AM NEVER GOING BACK!!” 

Tulkun didn't think he would also be a babysitter. Damn, and he thought his sister was terrible with mood swings. This weird guy clearly is older than him yet acts just like his baby sister who is 3. 

After what felt like centuries, the weird guy calms down but not in high spirits. 

“It seems you seem to be in turmoil. Look, it does seem a lot. But from the bits I heard, it seems you got a protective father, leaving without telling, talking to a stranger whom you never met and now going somewhere that you need to rely on said stranger to get there. This is pretty serious stuff you know” 

The weird guy just stares at him. 

“Part of life you know. Kinda late but it seems you are going through what I like to call “fuck the rules” phase. Personally I hope it's not a phase. Normal stuff” tulkun continues to say while simultaneously shoving the blue lizard off his shoulder. 

“Really…?” the guy asks. 

“Yup, but this might make your dad upset. Hell, break his heart and crush his soul even. But its fine” 

“Wait, you are gaslighting me aren't you” the weird guy was picking up on what tulkun was trying to do. 

“I tried” tulkun answered honestly. 

“No, we are going to see those lights,” the weird guy says, standing up for himself. 

“Oh yeah? What I don't want anymore?” tulkun mocks him. 

“I will use this” the pan was pointing at him again. 

“Ugh, fine” 

“Miles” 

“Hm?” 

“My name is miles. I forgot to tell you my name earlier” miles says. 

“Oh nice….” 

“What is your name?” miles asks. 

“......its tulkun” 

Miles heard that slight hesitation. Perhaps its not his real name. 

“Cool, this is payakan. My one and only friend” 

Payakan stands on miles’s left shoulder, glaring at tulkun. 

“He really doesnt like me, does he?” tulkun eyes at the reptile. 

“Eh, he will warm up to you. Now, what was that place called again?” miles claps his hands, getting a little hungry. 

“It's called recom port. Best steaks and cold drinks. Hits the spot all the time. And the folks there are super friendly” tulkun says. Smirking inwardly. Surly that place will scare miles back to his little tower. 

Wherever miles goes, tulkun can't help but notice how it was so easy to bring in people. The recom outcasts were super friendly towards him! And they hated tulkun! The hell?! Even worse, miles managed to have them all sing for hours non-stop. Tulkun is just so done. He wants the crown and go back home. Screw with whatever punishment his dad will give him. He can take it. 

Even worse since miles somehow tamed that demon of a horse. 

“Awe, such a good girl aren't you….zeze!” miles coos at the light blue horse. Reading the collar the fowl beast has. 

Zeze was wagging her tail like some dog. Ready to comply with whatever miles tells her. 

“You cant be serious, that thing is capable of murder!!” tulkun tries to reason with miles. 

“Did she kill?” 

“Umm…no but I wouldn't doubt it!

Miles rolls his eyes and continues to pet zeze. 

“Look, we are tired from walking and zeze seems to have a lot of energy. Why not ride her the rest of the way? It's a win-win. What do you think, big girl? Want to blow off some steam?” Miles suggests to the hell beast who neighs in agreement. 

“Oh you have got to be kidding me” tulkun rolls his eyes. He would rather walk on hot rocks than deal with her. 

“Come on, it will be easier. Look, I can tell you both dont get along but please just until we get to the lights? Please?” miles pleads. 

Zeze seems to side with him, offering her hoof, she and tulkun shake in agreement. 

“Wonderful! Now lets get on!” miles says happily as he climbs on zeze. Payakan sitting on zeze’s head getting a good view and tulkun sits behind miles. 

“Have you ever rode on a horse before?” tulkun asks. 

“Nope, first time! HIYAH!” 

Zeze takes off, letting the winds hit their faces and excitement filling their lungs. 

It was amazing! Miles has never seen this many people before! And they all live together in smaller yet wider towers? So cool! And the food! So delicious! More books to read, new music to listen to. It was so perfect. 

A kind lady even gifted him a small flat with a sun design and a flower. He admires the pretty flower until he sees other people laying their flowers in front of an interesting mural.

“It's for the lost prince” a child says to their baby sibling. 

Lost prince? 

Miles takes a good look at the mural. There stood two proud looking people. A man and a woman, wearing fancy looking clothing. In the woman's arms was a baby. A child who is smiling and have lovely golden hair and blue eyes. 

“Poor baby…” miles mutters. He places his flower on the base of the mural. Whoever the baby is, hopefully he comes back to his family soon.

Night came and tulkun managed to get a small boat for them to the surrounding moat. The lanturn festival was about to begin. Tulkun look to see miles not smiling anymore. 

“Hey, you ok..? Feeling excited?” he asks. 

“Feeling kind of terrified actually…” miles confesses. 

Tulkun tilts his head, “how come?” 

“All my life, for as long as I can remember I look at my window and see beautiful stars in the sky. Always wondering what they were. And here I am, about to see the truth….I'm scared to be disappointed” 

Tulkun, understanding his new friend, places an arm over his shoulder. 

“Nothing wrong with being disappointed. In the end, you will get to see what is more than the stars as you call them” 

Miles smiles a bit, “and what if they are? What then?” 

“That is the fun part I guess. It opens a path for a new journey” 

Neytiri straights jake’s outcoat, making him presentable. Her eyes meet his. Sadness and sorrow are all there is. No words are needed to be said. She knows. What is supposed to be a joyous day has now become a sad tradition for all. 

They meet their children on the balcony, all holding their own lanterns. Yet, neytiri and jake notice their third son is missing. It was just putting more salt on the wound. 

Taking the lead, they light up their lantern and together they let it go. The royal children followed. Moments after, all of the kingdom let go of their lanterns. The darkened sky now filled with lanterns, all goes at their own pace. 

Neytiri and jake hold each other close while holding their children. Their hopes depleting each year. The hope that one day, their first child would return home. That hopefully their son would find these lanterns and use them as a guide back to them. 

But its been 18 years. A grown adult by now. 

They make sure their children know of their big brother, and how he would have loved each and everyone of them. Their children never doubted that. 

“He will come home this time, right mama….?” The first princess asks her mother as she stares at the lanterns. Every year she asks the same question. Every year, neytiri answers the same thing. 

“He must” 

Miles was in awe. The lanterns were so beautiful! Each one was different yet all burned brightly. 

“I finally know the truth…” he says. 

Tulkun hears this……

“Lo’ak” he speaks. 

“Hm?” 

“My real name is Lo’ak, tulkun was just a disguise name…” lo’ak admits. 

“Why?” miles asks, curious to know. 

“My family….well my parents to be precise. Are very protective. Like super protective. Cant go anywhere without someone spying on me or my siblings…” lo’ak says with what sounds like defeat in his voice. 

“You see….I have an older brother and two younger sisters. My parents however, had a son before my big brother neteyam. Spider was his name. My parents said he was only 3 months old before a dark cloaked guy took him away. They never knew who he was or why the stranger took him. That night traumatized them for life. Dont get me wrong, it is sad. He would have been 4 or 5 years old by the time I was born. Its just….” lo’ak couldn't continue. 

“So that is why you are rebellious…wanting to get out of their tight hold. Needing to breathe and just take risks for the fun of it” miles finishes for him. 

Lo’ak looks at miles’s long hair. 

“Yeah…but what about you? You never told me why you lived in that tall, isolated tower” lo’ak asks, wanting to change the subject. 

“My dad….he too is overprotective. Growing up, he tells me all of the dangerous things that happen outside of the tower. Baby stealing ghouls, men with sharp teeth, diseases, blood sucking monsters. I was terrified. But in reality…he kept me there because of my hair…” 

Miles moves his dreads to the side to reveal a short dark strand of hair. 

“My hair….is what is keeping me alive. If cut, it affects my health. He doesn't know why, niether do I but…something like that, it has to be protected” 

“So….you never left that tower?” lo’ak was astounded. Miles, a grown adult at this point, has never seen what life has to offer? 

Miles nodded. 

“And you still want to go back…?” 

Miles looked to be contemplating on that question. But before could be said, near the dock was two unpleasantly familiar people.

“There, it will be just like it never happened” his dad says. 

Miles was back at the tower. Any traces of him being outside was gone. Lo’ak left him and took the crown. Leaving him vulnerable to two dangerous strangers who wanted to cut his hair for higher value. If it wasn't for his dad finding him, who knows what could have happened. 

“Hey, I will make that coup you like so much, that will lift your spirits up” his dad was exiting his room. 

“Look son, I know it seems unfair but you have to understand. Not everything is bright and good. Terrible people who sees any trace of goodness, they will destroy it no matter what” with that, he goes downstairs. 

Leaving miles alone. He stares at the paintings he has done on the ceiling. Why do they look familiar? 

Pulling out the little flag he still kept, he compares the sun to the familiar shapes. 

“What the…?” why do his painting have the sun symbol? 

Suddenly, he got a massive headache. 

Memories of a past he didn't know he had came flooding in. 

“WAIT WAIT DAD!! YOU DONT GET IT!!” lo’ak shouts as he tries to fight back his uncle figure tsu’tey. The other night he was knocked out by z-dog and lyle, tying him on a canoe with the crown. Now being punished, he was to be sent to a neighboring kingdom as a form of punishment for stealing a royal crown.

Jake, having had enough of his son's lies, false promises, and fake sympathy, didnt want to hear him anymore.

“Hopefully this will teach you a lesson son. You knew how important that crown was. Stealing was the last straw "Jake says. His family beside him, none wanting lo’ak to go but it was necessary.

“NO!! YOU DONT GET IT!! THEY TOLD ME!! HE IS ALIVE!! DAMN IT!! IM SORRY UNCLE!!” with a quick hit with his head, lo’ak managed to free himself from tsu’tey. Acting fast he made a run for it.

“ZEZE!!” he calls out. The majestic yet beastly horse answers his call, he climbed onto her.

Tsu’tey calls his soldiers to follow lo’ak, his family yelling to come back. “HE IS ALIVE!! SPIDER IS ALIVE!!” was all lo’ak said before zeze ran faster, heading straight to the forest. This whole time, this whole time! His big brother is alive!! He has a lot to make up for right now, lo’ak needs to get him out of the tower and away from the stranger miles calls ‘father’.

There was so much blood. Miles didnt know how to heal him. He wanted to save lo’ak, save him, tell him of his newfound revelation! Yet his dad has him tied to chains like some feral animal. 

“That is enough! You are going somewhere far more hidden! Somewhere where you won't even see the sunlight!” his father says. Miles can hardly recognize him anymore. All he sees is a scary, tall man who sees miles as some golden item rather than a human being. 

Yet miles fought back, as best as he could. Lo’ak is dying,he needs to do something! 

“Let me heal him please!” miles begs. Tears ran down his face. 

“Let me heal him, and you and I will be together. Just like we always have. Please dad, let me save him” 

His dad saw lo’ak laying still, thinking he won't last long. He ties a chain to his ankle, just incase the brat gets any ideas of following them. Miles was quick, panicking but doing his best to close the wound. 

“Miles…” lo’ak whispers weakly, “dont…I can let you…” he tries his hardest to say, 

“I cant let you die…” miles whispers, more tears falling out. 

Lo’ak gets closer as if to tell miles something, however, in a surprise move, he cuts miles hair. 

“Lo’ak!! What did you…!!” his was was quick to turn a dark brown, his dreads also losing their golden color. 

“NO!!! WHAT DID YOU DO?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU HAVE DONE!?” the mad man shrieks. In a hurry he tries to collect the hair, not carrying where he is stepping. He tangles himself in the dreads, unknowingly wrapping himself. In a daze he trips. 

Over the tower’s window. 

Falling to his death. His screams are now silent. 

Miles couldn't comprehend what just happened. Yet he had to focus on lo’ak. 

“Im sorry….brother….” lo’aks arms went limp, his eyes closed. 

“No no no!! Stay with me lo’ak! Please!!” miles cries out loud. Now he truly is alone. No friend, no father, no one. Just himself. He lets his tears fall on lo’aks wound. 

“Please save him…!! I beg you!! Save him!!” miles didnt know to who he was calling to. To himself? To some holy being? Perhaps he was already losing his mind now that he lost his golden hair. Or perhaps, not all is lost…

Bright light flooded the tower from the outside. Its light radiating warmth, reminds miles that of the lanterns. Bright yet gentle. It was like being swaddled in a blanket. The light surrounded him and lo’ak. His hair, although now messy, its golden color returned. The light touches lo’ak’s wound, sealing it, healing him. 

Just as it has appeared, the light has dispersed. As if it never did. 

Holding in his breathe, miles looks over at lo’ak, hoping to see something. 

A cough was heard, more coughs, and a scruff. 

“Oh fuck…did I hit something?” Lo’ak asks as he sits up. 

Miles shouts in happiness. Hugging lo’ak tightly, he says his thanks to the mysterious light that saved his friend. His brother. 

Quickly, neytiri and jake along with their children make haste to the balcony where tsu’tey said was where he was waiting. 

They all hold hands tightly, reassuring one another that this is real, its not a dream. 

Opening the doors, they see lo’ak. Beside him was someone jake and neytiri thought they would never see. 

A young, tall man with short yet very familiar golden hair stood before them. Wide, sparkly blue eyes that can rival the sky. His familiar smile, his aura radiant of warm happiness. This is him. 

“Spider…” neytiri whispers, getting closer to him. Touching his cheeks, his hands, his ears, hair, everything. 

“It is you…my spider, my son” she confirms. A mother could never mistake her child. 

Hugging him close, she cries out in joy. Jake followed soon after her. Holding his son after so many years. Kissing his head, hearing his heartbeat. Their son has returned. 

“You did find him…” jake says to lo’ak. 

Lo’ak smiles, joining in the hug, not saying much as to let his parents have this moment. 

“Come come my children, meet your big brother! He is home!” neytiri gestures her three other children, neteyam, kiri and tuk. The three join in one massive group hug. 

This is what miles, or now, spider, wanted. To feel truly loved. This is his family, may take some time getting used to, but spider truly felt at home with them. For they are warm and radiant, like that of the sun. 

Aaaaaaaaaand that is it for this one! Hope you all liked it! Until next time! See ya!

[mandoloriancookie]

I totally see Din Djarin having a beer in the cockpit.

His over everyone shit.

[whiskeynwriting]

Cabur

Paz Vizsla x Female reader

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Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, breeding kink, lactation kink, tiny daddy kink (I mean c’mon it’s me), oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, pregnancy, allusions to exhibitionism, cum play, tattoos, hickies, established relationship, marriage, brief mention(s) of reader’s hair but no description, fluffiesssss because he’s my big blue teddy bear

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A/N: pov - you have Paz’s first child

As always there’s tons of Mando’a with the translations right beside where it’s used because I’m obsessed with it.

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Paz Vizsla Masterlist

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His lack of empathy is surprising, to an extent. But it’s not for lack of love, rather, a surplus of his senses. Focusing solely on this one goal, he holds you, grabs you, his motions rough and unforgiving. Every grab is possessive, his movements the product of his body’s full exertion. Your own feels raw, wet and used, but it’s everything you’ve ever wanted from him. He’s overwhelmed, and so are you.

“I’m going to take this body,” He grunts lowly, heavy breaths forced out of his nose. “Breed it and make it mine.”

“Paz,” Gasping, you reach for the blankets, searching for their grip in the darkness. 

It’s dim in your shared room, so far beneath Nevarro’s outer crust. Your surroundings are nearly black, but not entirely. He still wanted to see you, and you him. But the dimness has a purpose, serving to keep his facial features hidden from you. 

Repeatedly, you’re shoved into the mattress, feeling Paz absolutely ravage you. Both of those strong, calloused hands are centered on your hips, fingertips digging into the skin. His pelvis slaps against your backside with each deep plunge, your warrior’s chest heaving with passion. 

“Shh… cyar’ika, it’s okay.” He coos to you in that deep, desire filled voice. He’s quieting your cries, your pleading whines. “You can take it.” (Sweetheart) 

And then he’s pulling you up, linking one strong arm around your naked torso to pull you flush against him. Here, he stills, nuzzled his nose into your neck, and then your cheek. Still pressed entirely inside of you, he groans, twitching against your walls. 

Whispering gruffly into your ear, your soon-to-be tells you, “This is how it’s going to be… and this is what you wanted, isn’t it?” And you suppose he’s right, you couldn’t have expected anything less after you’d vehemently told him yes. “Now lay back down for me, lay beneath me…” Paz finishes, not allowing you a chance to speak. He knows you’re too dumb right now to do so, anyway. 

But outside of your bedroom endeavors, he didn’t consider you to be that way. Although, he did at first glance. Your introduction was… strange. Strange and uncommon. You’d been hiking the lava flats on Nevarro’s surface, finding and climbing the rare rock formations. And during an outdoor excursion, a group of Mandalorians stumbled across you, Paz being one of them. They’d claimed to be on a hunt, and immediately declared you foolish. What idiot would climb the crumbling lava flats? But as he sat back and watched, he saw how capable you were. He saw how expertly you navigated the terrain, the strength you had in your arms and legs, and the wherewithal to notice the Mandalorians without losing your grip. Coming down from the small mountains, you took a step back, stumbling into Paz’s chest. And before you could even utter a small hello, he was speaking - how did you do that?

It was then that you’d hooked him, you had his attention, his interest. And the more he discovered about you, the more impressed he became. Which genuinely shocked him, considering you show your face. 

“Gorgeous girl,” Paz huffs out above your body, “My gorgeous girl.” 

Maybe Paz could get over the fact that you didn’t follow the creed; he’s learned to respect your decision to show your face. But on the opposite end of that, that meant everyone else got to see you, too. And all those turning heads, it just didn’t sit well with him. It was something he couldn’t tolerate. Especially when those stolen glances often came from his own brothers. 

“Mine,” He seethes, dominant hand lifting in the air only to land firmly on your ass and fist it in his palm. “Mine.”

From the moment he brought you into the covert, every helmet turned your way, and their eyes haven’t left since. The excessive attention sharpened his senses, his possessiveness growing with every second. He never let anyone influence you, physically, emotionally, he made sure nothing could touch you. You’ve given his life so much more purpose, even more so than following the creed. You’ve promised him a legacy. 

And then, he asks you something that makes your heart pound, feeling him duck down to be even closer to your body. With his broad chest pressed into your back, he groans, whispering, “Do you like knowing my helmet is off?” 

The mere thought of his naked face made you quiver. He’s handsome, handsome in a way that would just kill you and you’ve never been more certain about anything.

“Like knowing how close my face is?” He continues, holding onto you tight. “How close my bare skin is to you?”

Paz’s voice is low as he says it, hot breath fanning over your ear. And it makes his own heart pound, being this vulnerable with you. He’s never been this vulnerable in his entire life, not with anyone, not even in private.

This purpose, his proposal, was made in private, with only the Armorer in attendance. He’d asked for her blessing first, as was custom. She was also to witness it. And while this was all perfectly intimate in every way, now, he didn’t want anything to be private. 

If he could, he’d fuck you in the gathering hall, for each and every Mandalorian to see. He’d take you in public, for anyone to see. As far as he's concerned, there’s nothing stopping him from pulling you aside in the market and claiming you in an alley. But most importantly, he wanted the covert to know. He was claiming you, mind, body, and soul. You were to be one for the rest of your lives, for eternity, and he didn’t want a single member of his tribe to be unaware of that.

“Yes,” You finally breathe out desperately, your voice cracking. “Maker, yes - yes Paz.” Even imagining your soon-to-be’s face feels wrong, sinful, but you can’t help it. Especially when he’s so close. Turning your head, you nuzzle gently into him, feeling the scruff on his cheek. But even this sweet gesture doesn’t distract him from his duty to you, to his house. 

“Paz, you - you’re,” Gasping, you cry out for him, eyes pinching shut. “Baby, you’re deep.” 

Sliding one hand around to your lower pelvis, he grunts, thick fingers finding your throbbing bundle of nerves. He only presses on it, and it’s enough for you to jolt back against him, shoving your hips into his body.

“Now I’m deeper.” He growls smugly, left hand still cemented to your hip. But he’s not as deep as he could be. 

Paz’s absolute favorite thing is bending you in half, making you even smaller than you already are to him. And now that he’s close to your body, he pulls out, massive hands gravitating to your hips as he yanks you around.

Plopping down onto your back, you sigh, a blissfully dumb smile on your face as he parts your thighs, sliding right back inside. It’s easy, your entrance slick and sore from him but ready, ready to be bred by him. And with your legs splayed open around his waist, he groans, thick fingers unforgiving on the thin skin of your hips. But then he’s reaching down, palms finding the bottoms of your thighs and shoving them toward your chest. Your knees flex up toward your breasts, thighs laying over your stomach and chest as he bends you in half. 

“Feel it deep?” And Maker, you could get lost in his voice. You have before - you are right now.

With heavy breaths, he releases one hand from your leg, using it to press into your lower stomach. He does so harshly, deeply, listening to your quiet yet pleasurable unff. He can feel himself, feel his tip prodding against the calloused skin of his hand. 

“That’s right where I need to be.”

Lifting your legs onto his shoulders, he presses his entire weight down into you. It forces you into a mating press, feeling him drive directly into your cunt, into the deepest parts of you that he can reach. 

Regardless of Paz’s pure strength, his brute force and mountainous size, you still yearned for him. Yearned for him in ways that could only be described as a sense of emotional aching. He’s breathing heavily above you, this mountain of a man, and it hurts your soul that you still cannot see him. But every inch of you can feel him, and for now, that makes up for it. And with this bulk of a man surrounding you, protecting you, you don’t think you’ve ever felt safer in your entire life. It’s clear to you, just as it always has been, that your place is here, beneath him.

But while you’ve never seen his face, and likely never will, he’s let you see every other inch of his body. He’s kept himself pure in that way and you’ve never pressured him to do otherwise. Never even asked for his name until he gave it to you, when he finally brought you home. And you’ve adored his body since the first night you saw him, his thick and bulging muscles, the tattoos covering so much of his skin. All over his chest, his sides, his thighs. His entire back is covered in them, his arms decorated with complete sleeves of intricate design. It made you shiver, seeing your warrior covered in this, in the stories of his past and his ancestors achievements. When he’s older, you're sure he’ll be included in the Mandalorian’s design. He’s everything a warrior should be, everything a father should be.

“Mesh’la,” He’s suddenly moaning out, head tilting down. “Mesh’la dala.” And then he’s leaning further in, kissing your ear while he declares, “A mesh’la buir.” (Beautiful, beautiful woman. A beautiful mother)

No one has ever stolen him in this way, his body and mind entranced by you. It’s taken everything in him to respect his creed, the thing he loves more than life itself, to not show you his face. And he has to remind himself that he should love it more than you, but he isn’t so sure anymore. 

The way Paz fucks you is sweet but raw, pure sexual instinct filling every ounce of his being. And while he’s fucking himself into you, he starts rambling, going on about your body, how well you take him, how well you’ve always taken him. 

“You will look angelic with my baby inside you.”

Leaning further into your body, his mouth finds your breasts, his lips warm and wet. They drag over your smooth skin, lips briefly sucking a nipple in. 

“And when these fill, mm…” Groaning, he lifts himself, biting into the space between your shoulder and neck. “Fill to the brim with sweet milk… so round and swollen… I will relieve them for you.” His promise makes you pulse around him, lips parting from your wanton moans. “I will suck on them when they are ripe and round in my hands, nourishing my ade into warriors.” (Children)

“Paz,” Gasping, you reach for him, clinging to the broadness of his shoulders. “Baby.”

Briefly, he mouths at them, worshiping their curves with his tongue and lips. He loved to lick them, suck on them as if they were already spilling with milk. His favorite thing was to fondle your chest, your beautifully soft and enticing curves. They drive him mad.

And between his filthy words he also promises himself to you. He promises to devote himself to you, telling you how in love he is with you, how badly he wants to become one with you, how badly he wants to breed you. He’ll stay by your side for the rest of his life, and whatever comes after it. He’ll watch you carry his children, raising them to be warriors alongside him, as many as you can make. He tells you that you’ll be a blessing to his family, to his clan. You already are.

“Alright, little one, my precious thing… daddy’s - ngh, daddy’s gonna cum, gonna fill you up…”

“Daddy…”

Forcing himself inside, an enormous breath leaves his chest, his girth throbbing against your walls and stuffed in to the hilt. You can feel the muscles in his abdomen twitch and curl as he presses himself against you, body weight crushing you comfortably. Sharp jerks perform from his pelvis, his biceps and forearms shaking as he groans. And you can feel it, the warm flood of his seed inside you, the thickness of it clinging to your inner walls and calling for home.

“Cyare,” Comes your lover’s deep, deep voice. “Ner cyare.” (Beloved, my beloved)

Leaning further in, he nuzzles you, rubbing his nose over your cheek affectionately. But you want more, and so you reach out for him. Grabbing onto those scruffy cheeks, you bring him in, finding those lips once again. 

“Ner riduur,” It comes out with a small cry, an emotional breath. (My husband)

“Soon.” Paz promises with another sweet kiss to your lips. 

And before you can say anything more, he’s pulling out with a groan and sliding down your body. Glancing down, you’re hoping to see him. But all you’re met with is darkness. Though, you already know what’s there, the sight of his glorious body. Thick and bulging muscles slick with sweat, shaft still half-hard and ready for you again. Paz’s girth was thick, veiny, and was always shiny with you after spending time in bed. 

“Baby…”

It’s not even a true thought, just something he does instinctually. Two fingers slide into his own mouth before moving through the mess he’s made of you, scooping any remnants up before plugging them between your legs. He wants to keep everything inside, but he also wants to make you cum. Sex with Paz wasn’t just about him, he always wanted to remind you of that. 

A low hum shivers through your entire being as he opens his mouth, tongue rolling forward to flick your clit. With his fingers stuffed inside, he curls them, warm mouth enveloping your pleasure center as he does it.

“Paz,” With your hands moving down, you quickly find his hair - it’s wavy, full of thin curls that make you grin. Absentmindedly, you wonder what color they are. You often daydream about him. Though, it’s hard to think about anything when he’s sucking on your clit.

He pleasures it, swirling his tongue around your most sensitive space until your juices begin to mix. Paz appreciates your hums, your girlish noises. Oh, how they come out so nice, pretty melodies swimming through the air. They give him clues, along with your fidgeting hips, to how close you are, how badly you’re wavering just on the precipice. And he knows how to coax you into that sea of bliss, with whatever part of himself he wishes. 

“B-Baby,” You’re stuttering, head falling back as your eyes close. And then he groans, feeling your nails dig into his hair. “Ner cyare, ner cabur…” (My love, my protector)

It’s almost like you’re working him, instead of the other way around. Because as soon as you utter those words, he’s hard again, mouth moving to devour you.

“Perfect,” He grunts, his entire body lighting up right alongside you.

His broad palm squeezes your thigh, massaging the meat of it while the fingers of his right hand keep his seed inside you. And while he’s focusing on handling you, you cling to him, grabbing onto his hair, his broad shoulders, anything you can. Your pelvis thrusts up against him, his moans muffled by it. 

It shivers through you, the entire sensation of it. Your insides hug the thick fingers penetrating you, your hips seeking more of his wet mouth’s touch. It’s almost as if your insides turn to jelly, your muscles giving out as he grabs onto your legs. And as you gradually begin to come down, the motions of your body slowing to a gentle roll, he finally detaches himself. 

“Cyar’ika,” A wet gasp is punctuated by the smack of his lips as he lifts himself from your center, crawling back over your body again. (Sweetheart)

Before his mouth returns to your lips, he lowers to your stomach. Paz’s scruffy chin and soft lips find the skin of your belly, placing gentle kisses. Both of those strong hands cup it, too, rubbing the area just above your pelvis. 

“Gedet’ye.” He whispers, eyes closing. Slowly, gently, he places his forehead against your belly, a sweet kiss to the child soon to be there. (Please)

And then he’s returning to you, that loving mouth finding your own with the wetness of your cunt smearing across your chin. Fervently, he kisses your face, all over it, every inch he can reach. And then his mouth is lifting to your temple, rubbing over your soft hair. But while Paz’s soft side is beginning to show, your more ravenous attributes are still out to play.

Continuing to miss the sight of your soon-to-be’s glorious body, you duck your head down, leaning forward to connect your lips to his skin. His thick pectorals are what you’re first met with, placing a sloppy kiss before biting in. And it makes him groan, his head dropping down. He wishes he could see you, too; you’ve always been the prettiest sight. But the two of you knew that when in bed, you had two choices. Helmet off, and in complete darkness, or, helmet on, with your bodies on display. And tonight, you both wanted kisses. 

“Dush dala…” Your lover grumbles, reveling in the feeling of your love bites. But his words are enticing, they betray him. (Bad girl…) 

Lifting your hand, you squeeze the muscles of his chest, sliding around to his bicep. And with his positioning, he’s still between your legs, his wet shaft sliding along your inner leg as he releases a deep, rumbling sigh. And you wonder if he’s hard again. You wouldn’t exactly mind it. 

“Have you practiced?”

“She has.” Paz answers before you even can. And it’s not out of a feeling of ownership or anything linked to misogyny. It’s because of his excitement. And you smile when she looks to you, wanting to confirm this.

“I have.” With a small nod, you keep your grin.

And it’s true, you’ve been practicing your Mando’a for years. You’re quite confident in your skills; even in front of the armorer, you have no sense of worry or fear. This is where you belong. Even if you cannot take the creed yourself, you are welcomed here. From now on, you’ll always be here with him. 

“And you wish for this trinket to be embedded with your words?” 

“I do.” Paz nods, handing the small piece to her. 

He never liked for you to go above ground, not without him, anyway. And so, he liked to bring you small gifts. Paz would be nothing if he weren’t as protective as he was doting. Nearly every day, he’d return with a present of some kind, flowers, beautiful stones, new books to read or songs to sing. His most recent gift was this ring. 

She chuckles. “I do not need it, not again.”

“Oh,” He sighs beneath his breath, looking down at the ring. “Right.”

It’s funny, you think. Funny and cute, just how nervous he is. She forged the ring, of course she doesn’t need to see it again. Made with the most sacred material, beskar. The closest you’ll ever come to taking the creed. Though, it isn’t plain; the precious steel has been painted a dark blue. And sitting atop it, a stone of aquamarine. Light and dark blue hues to match the House you will soon belong to.

With a small giggle, you reach forward, placing your tiny hand in his. “Cyare,” (Beloved)

And this seems to shake him out of that anxious state, his head immediately lifting to look at you. You, of all things, of all beings, that belongs to him, was made for him. He’s sure of it.

“Cyare.” He whispers gently in return, fingers curling around your hand. (Beloved)

“Are you ready to take your vows?” She then asks, turning her head toward you as she adds, “Are you ready to join with House Vizsla?” 

“Yes.” Is your immediate answer, looking directly into her visor with confidence and pride. 

“Are you ready to welcome this woman into your clan?”

“Yes.” And you swear you’ve never heard him speak so softly, so genuinely. Already, his voice has such sentiment behind it. 

Before this day, you discussed how your ceremony would go, since it had the slightly altered addition of your ring. And you decided together that it would go on first, with your vows to follow. So, that’s exactly what he does. 

Sliding it onto your left ring finger, Paz takes a breath, both hands quick to hold yours soon after. And then he nods, looking into your eyes. Together, you verbalize your vows, your promises, your intent. 

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde.” (We are one together, we are one when parted, we share all, we will raise warriors)

With a wavering inhale, you release your emotions, taking your hands away from his and lifting them to the back of his neck. Paz’s strong palms find the small of your back, bringing you in just as you do the same to him. 

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.” Comes your hushed voice, eyes pressing shut as his forehead meets your own. (I love you)

He brings himself down to you, arms fully wrapping around your midsection as he gives you this gentle keldabe kiss. Quietly, he returns your loving words with just as much sentiment, his own voice faltering a bit. You can feel the firm squeeze of his hug, can hear the small, disbelieved chuckle he emits. 

“Thank you.” Suddenly turning your head, you give a firm nod to her, tears of joy springing in your eyes. She could have refused, had she deemed it appropriate to do.

“Thank you,” She responds, stepping forward. And now, Paz looks at her, too. “For aiding in the continuation of our most precious House.” 

Easily, naturally, his gaze returns to you, one warm palm reaching out to cup your face. “Riduur.” He nearly purrs, thumb stroking you lovingly. (Wife)

While meeting that familiar visor, the armorer speaks once again. As you gaze into the other’s eyes, she informs you of your results. 

“They have been delivered.” 

“Let us go.” He whispers to you, free hand reaching for your hip.

Nodding, you sigh, an eager smile forming on your lips. “Yes.” 

On the way back to your small, underground home, you’re greeted by many congratulatory cues. Proud nods, hands shaken and laid on shoulders as you pass. Vambraces clang together as you walk through the halls, echoing the sound of respect and admiration, and Paz couldn’t be more proud to have your hand in his. 

“What if it is negative?” You whisper to him, watching as he opens the doorway.

“Then we will continue trying.” He replies simpy, ushering you inside. 

Grinning, you eye the envelope, wandering aloud, “And what if it’s positive?”

A low hum vibrates into the air from behind your form, feeling those strong arms wrap around your midsection shortly after. Leaning down, he rests his chin on your shoulder, the metal of his helmet smooth and warm. 

“Then we will continue trying.” He rumbles, his tone sending a shiver up your spine. 

Displaying your amusement is your girlish hum, the thought of Paz breeding you without end a fascinating thought for both your mind and body.

The news of pregnancy was delivered via message, either physical or holographic, in Mandalorin culture. It was done this way for privacy purposes. The discovery of a pregnancy within a tribe was often an emotional revelation, and while you’re sure the entire covert will celebrate, you wanted to do so together, first. That is, if it’s positive. 

“Open it.” Paz then commands, nodding once toward the envelope. 

And with shaky hands, you do, inhaling a breath of confidence. His presence doesn’t leave you as you reveal the paper holding your results, his hold on you becoming tighter as the two of you read on. 

And the news is more overwhelming than either of you anticipated. 

This early on, you expected negative results. Though, it’s not like you hadn’t been trying before Paz’s proposal. But to immediately get a yes, a positive result, made a bout of tears spring to your eyes. 

“Paz…” 

But he’s already dropping to his knees. This ginormous hunk of a man falls behind you, arms still encircling your body. Turning in his hold, you grin, staring down at him.

“Cyar’ika.” And he almost sounds like he could be crying. (Sweetheart)

Immediately, his forehead is on your belly, his shoulders shuddering slightly. He’s nuzzling into you, rubbing his helmet over your covered torso, wishing with everything in him that he could rip his helmet off to kiss it, to kiss you.

“Thank you,” Your lover expresses, both in basic and traditional Mando’a. “Vor entye.” 

Lowering your hands, your tears follow, dripping onto his helmet as you hold the back of it, cradling him against you. “Paz,” Your voice is quiet, already cracking. 

Cabur, protector, and not only for you, but now for your child, too.

“Ner dala riduur, buir be ner adiik.” It’s like he can’t contain himself; whenever he was overcome with emotion, Mando’a became his only tongue. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.” (My beautiful wife, mother of my child. I love you)

He’s thanking you, praising you, repeating his love for you. Your doting husband, the love of your life. And soon, you’ll have a mini version of him. 

“Paz,” Chuckling, you adjust your hold on his helmet, tilting his eyeline up. “Did you read all of it?”

“I read positive.” He says, then shrugging and shaking his head. “What else is there to read?”

Smiling sweetly, you stroke the cheeks of his helmet, forever wishing it were instead his skin. “We are having a son.”

For a second, he stills, a pause in time. “A… son.”

And it’s not the fact that he wouldn’t be just as happy to have a daughter, it’s the fact that you already know the gender. It just makes everything that more exciting, that more real.

As soon as he’s standing, he’s hitting the switch, consuming you in pure darkness. The heavy thud of his helmet jostles the dirt floor, distracting you briefly before both of those broad hands grab your face. And a kiss like this doesn’t show lust, it shows love.

“I love you,” Paz’s deep voice rumbles, body pressing against your own. “I will always love you.” 

Just like that, just that easily, he’s pulling you into bed. But not for sex, for your warmth and presence. He strips down to his kute, you in your underclothes, too, before he wraps you in his arms beneath the blanket of your bed. You wouldn’t have the smallest clue by looking at him, but Paz was one, giant snuggler. It’d always been his strongest love language, physical touch. After all, it was the one sense he was denied the most. 

“You’re such a teddy bear,” Laughing, you wriggle against him, cuddling right into his hold. “I wish I could see you.”

It comes out before you can even stop it. You’ve never said anything like it and as soon as it comes out, you regret it.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Paz.”

“Don’t be.” His voice soothes you, shaking his head softly before kissing your temple. “If I were you, I’d feel the same way.” 

Something about that truly touches you. Not once did you ever expect to hear anything like that come from him. 

“R…Really?”

He only nods, releasing a small hum. “I wish I could show you. I’m not afraid to admit that.”

“Will… I ever know?” 

And to this, he smiles. “When you give me a baby,” He says, bulky arms holding you tight. “You’ll know when you see them.”

Inside, your heart chokes with affection, body curling into his chest. And while facing you, he holds you, legs intertwining with your own. And he can feel the curl of your lips against his skin, pressing forward briefly to kiss him.

“What should we call them?”

One warm hand runs down the back of your head, a low, thoughtful hum coming from him. 

“Ixtal,” He then decides on with a firm nod. “For a girl.”

“Ixtal Vizsla.” You accounce, your tone voicing your favor of this name. “What about for our boy?”

“You tell me, cyar’ika.” Paz coos to you, rubbing your back sweetly. (Sweetheart)

And you smile. You were wondering if he’d ask. 

“I like Ragnar.” 

[mysticalgalaxysalad]

He would say that in deep, raspy voice, that makes you cross your legs, and of course, the hot bastard notices that, smirking to himself.

"Already soaked, honey? I haven't even done anything yet..."

Paz whispers and brushes his lips against your neck in the lightest teasing kiss, and then he pulls away and goes to do his shit, while you stand there stunned and turned on...👀😋

Roommate!Paz thots 😌

He gets out of shower, towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping down his body. You are cooking dinner in kitchen, when you notice him walking to his room. And then he catches you staring...👀

Oh I see we are starting this Sunday off with some absolute deliciousness 👀

We all know Paz is a cocky bastard either way but I think before they have the arrangement he would just grin and make a teasing comments along the lines of "Like what you see, sweetheart?"

But after you have that arrangement? 😌👀

He would walk up behind you, his hands on your hips and tell you to "Whatever delicious thing you are cooking, turn off the stove."

"But Paz, the sauce ..!"

"That wasn't a question, love."

And then he would drag you to the couch and proceed to have you ride hiim or maybe just jerk himself off with his tip inside you and telling you to beg if you really want more of his cock 🥵

[kiwiokok]

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙒𝘼𝙔 𝙊𝙁 𝙒𝘼𝙏𝙀𝙍

Previous >> Next

Pairing: Ao'nung x omaticayan! fem!reader

Summary: Fly

Warnings: None

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

The marui was bustling with its usual morning activity, the scent of cooked food still lingering in the air. Kiri was cleaning up the remains of breakfast, her movements efficient but distracted as she hummed quietly to herself. Tuk sat nearby, giggling as she strung beads together, completely absorbed in her little world.

Jake's gaze lingered on Lorre, watching the way her fingers trembled slightly as she pushed her plate away. She still looked pale — far too pale — from yesterday's headache. There was something fragile in the way she sat there, shoulders hunched just a little too tightly, trying to look stronger than she felt.

His brow furrowed, replaying her words in his mind, about wanting to feed the Ikrans. It wasn’t the worst idea, but the timing — it was all wrong. She wasn’t herself yet—he could see it in the way she rubbed absently at her temples as if fighting the dull throb that was still there.

He swallowed hard, glancing at her again, this time more closely. Her eyes, though determined, were shadowed with exhaustion she couldn’t hide. He wondered if she even noticed how drained she looked, or if she was simply too stubborn to care.

- Feed the Ikrans? he repeated slowly, voice heavy with hesitation, the words tasting bitter as he weighed them carefully. His eyes searched hers, silently begging for her to acknowledge her health first.

He felt the unease knot tighter in his gut, torn between letting her do what she wanted and pulling her back, keeping her safe—even if it meant being the bad guy.

- Yes, I’ve been thinking about it for a while. To feed Paz, maybe even fly her for a bit. It’s been some time since we last did that. Lorre tried to sound casual, but the look on Jake’s face told her he wasn’t fully convinced. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly debating with himself before nodding.

- Alright. But Neteyam’s going with you. His tone left no room for argument, the protective edge clear in his voice.

Neteyam, who had been standing off to the side, stepped forward, nodding. - Yes, sir. I’ll keep an eye on her.

Lorre cringed internally at the formality. Neteyam always played by the rules, but hearing him address their father like that just made her feel… watched. Like she couldn’t even do something as simple as flying without someone there to monitor her.

- I don’t need a babysitter, you know. Her voice was quiet, almost defeated, but she didn’t meet Jake’s eyes.

Jake, always perceptive, softened slightly, but his decision was final. - Just until you’re feeling better.

Lorre sighed but didn’t argue. She knew there was no point. She wasn’t about to win this one.

Once they left their Marui, Lorre and Neteyam walked side by side along the winding path toward the forest, where the Ikrans nestled.

The ikran were kept in a small forest grove just behind the village of Awa'atlu, where the dense canopy of trees provided a natural shelter from the harsh coastal winds. Large, twisting roots created natural perches for the ikran to rest upon, their vibrant scales standing out against the earthy tones of the forest.

Though far from their usual mountainous home, the ikran had adapted to their new surroundings. They feasted on reef fish—glider fin and feathertail fish—which were plentiful in the area. The Na'vi didn’t eat these fish themselves, finding the taste of feathertail fish particularly foul, but the ikran had developed a liking for them.

The Breeze carried the scent of damp earth and lush foliage, but Lorre’s mind was distracted, her gaze flicking across faces of those they passed. She wasn't really sure who she was looking for — maybe Ro’uk, though she brushed the thought away. Their plan they were talking about yesterday — to fly with the Ikrans felt distant.

- Looking for someone? Neteyam asked, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Lorre waved it off, shrugging lightly. - No one special.

He hummed, clearly unconvinced but not pushing the matter. As they rounded the bend, where the Ikrans rested, the sight that greeted them made both of them stop in their tracks.

Tsireya stood beside Paz, her fingers trailing gently over Lorre’s Ikran. Lo’ak, arms crossed and looking more amused than he had any right to, watched her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Lorre narrowed her eyes, confusion and a flicker of protectiveness stirring in her chest. - What… exactly are they doing? she muttered, glancing sideways at Neteyam, who seemed equally bewildered.

- Lo’ak.. Neteyam sighed, shaking his head. - He thinks rules don’t apply to him.

Lo’ak’s sharp ears picked up on the remark, and he turned with a lazy grin, all mischief and zero regret, but Lorre caught the way he gulped when he noticed the look on her face. - What? It’s not like Paz is dangerous. Besides, he nodded toward Tsireya, - she’s got a way with them.

Lorre stepped forward, hands on her hips, voice firm but more bemused than angry. - She’s my Ikran

At the sound of her voice, Tsireya startled, her hand pulling back as if Paz had suddenly burned her. - Oh! I’m so sorry! she exclaimed, eyes wide with apology. - I just—she’s so beautiful. I didn’t mean to overstep. Her voice was soft, and the nervousness in her wide eyes made Lorre’s annoyence fade.

Lo’ak raised his hands in mock surrender, a wide grin still plastered on his face. - Relax, Lorre. No harm done. I figured you wouldn’t mind.

- Mind? Lorre gave him a flat look, though there was no real malice in it. - Next time, ask before you let other Na’vi pet my Ikran.

Neteyam, standing slightly behind her, chuckled under his breath. - He’s lucky Paz didn’t bite his head off.

- Ikrans don’t just bite Na’vi, Neteyam. Lorre muttered. - But if they did, Lo’ak would be the first to find out.

Tsireya’s tentative smile returned, though there was still an edge of nervousness to it. - She really is stunning, Lorre. I’ve never seen an Ikran like her.

Lorre softened at the compliment, her stance relaxing. - Thanks. She’s special to me.

Lo’ak, sensing an opportunity, swooped in with a wide grin. - You and Paz—both serious and protective. It’s adorable.

Lorre shot him a look. - Adorable? You’ve been spending too much time around Tsireya.

Neteyam snorted at that, but Lo’ak was undeterred. - Nah, it’s true. Always on edge, always guarding something. Maybe Aonung’s rubbing off on you.

Lorre blinked, caught off guard by the sudden mention of Aonung. - What does he have to do with anything

Lo’ak leaned in slightly, his grin widening like a cat about to pounce. - Come on, Lorre. You haven’t noticed? Aonung’s always lurking around whenever you’re nearby. I think he’s got a thing for you.

- Lo’ak! Lorre’s eyes widened, heat rising in her cheeks, though she quickly shot him a glare. - You’re imagining things. He doesn’t care about that, yet.

- Doesn’t he? Lo’ak tilted his head innocently. - Seems to me he finds every excuse to be where you are.

- Lo’ak’s right. Neteyam chimed in, trying and failing to suppress a grin. - I mean, Aonung’s been trailing you for days. You can’t be that oblivious.

Lorre shook her head, her cheeks still warm as she tried to compose herself. - You two are impossible. she muttered under her breath, but her tone lacked its usual bite.

Tsireya, having found her footing again, smiled gently. - He is usually around when you are, Lorre. I didn't even have to ask him to teach the sign language.

- Not you too, Tsireya Lorre groaned, rubbing her temples as if trying to ward off a headache she no longer had.

Lo’ak’s grin was downright wicked now. - You know what? Why don’t we go get him? I’m sure he’d love to join us for a little flight.

Lorre shot him a sharp look. - No. Absolutely not.

- Oh, come on! Lo’ak said, already moving toward the path with Tsireya trailing behind him, giggling. - It’ll be fun. And if Aonung comes along, maybe you’ll show off a little.

Lorre crossed her arms, trying to maintain her composure, but there was no denying the flustered look in her eyes. Though she didn't really believe he liked her that way. - I’m not showing off for anyone, least of all him.

Lo’ak called over his shoulder, already halfway down the path. - Sure, sure. Whatever you say.

- Don’t worry, we’ll bring him right to you! Tsireya added with a playful laugh, before the two of them disappeared around the trees, leaving Lorre and Neteyam standing by Paz.

Lorre let out a long sigh, turning to Neteyam. - Why do I put up with them?

Neteyam laughed, resting a hand on her shoulder. - Because deep down, you actually like it.

Lorre shot him a look of disbelief, but couldn’t quite hold back a smile. - Don’t you start.

Neteyam shrugged, still grinning as he mounted his own Ikran. - It’s not starting anything if it’s already true.

As they stood by the Ikrans, ,Lo’ak’s voice echoed back through the trees, followed by the sound of footsteps. Lorre didn’t have time to react before she saw him—Aonung, striding up to them with that self-assured walk she’d seen too many times before. Lo’ak and Tsireya trailed behind, looking far too pleased with themselves.

Aonung raised an eyebrow as he approached, his sharp gaze locking onto Lorre almost immediately. - Flying without me?

Lorre crossed her arms, trying to look unaffected. - I wasn’t planning on an audience.

- Too bad. Aonung said with an easy grin. - Because I’m here now.

Lo’ak laughed, clapping Aonung on the back. -I told you she was going to show off!

Lorre shot him a glare. - I’m not showing off for anyone. Especially not for—

- For me? Aonung cut in, his grin widening. - Good to know.

Lorre felt her heart rate pick up but quickly turned away, grabbing onto Paz’s saddle and climbing up without another word. - Let’s just fly. You coming or not?

Just as she began to settle into the rhythm, she heard the familiar sound of someone climbing up behind her. She glanced back, her breath catching for a moment as she spotted Aonung, already settled on Paz’s saddle, right behind her.

- You didn’t ask she said flatly

Aonung grinned, leaning in slightly so she could hear him over the loud noises the Ikran was making, - You didn’t exactly stop me.

Lorre rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. - Fine, just don’t mess it up.

- Are we going or not? Neteyam called out once the Ikran started to get louder, eager to fly already

The moment Lorre nudged Paz to fly, the world shifted beneath them. With a powerful thrust of her wings, Paz soared into the sky, and the ground below faded away in a rush. The wind whipped through Lorre’s hair, exhilarating and freeing, a wave of adrenaline surging as they climbed higher.

As they flew together, the vastness of the sky enveloped them, and Lorre felt an unexpected warmth radiating from Aonung behind her. The rhythm of Paz’s wings felt alive beneath her, the pulse of the wind wrapping around them like a gentle embrace. Lorre couldn’t help but steal glances back at Aonung, whose carefree laughter matched the joyful swoops and dives of the Ikran.

Lorre turned her head to where Aonung was laughing, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he watched his sister, Tsireya, soaring through the sky with Lo’ak. Tsireya’s face radiated pure joy, although the rush of air swallowed her shouts, Lorre could see the thrill lighting up her features.

Below them, the lush green forest spread out like a vast tapestry, its vibrant leaves shimmering in the sunlight, a reminder of the home she missed so deeply. Each glance at the landscape tugged at her heart, a bittersweet blend of nostalgia and longing.

As Neteyam swooped around them, his Ikran spun gracefully in the air, letting out a spirited war cry that echoed in the wind. Lorre felt the exhilaration wash over her, the wind tousling her hair and the cool air brushing against her skin.

With Aonung beside her, happiness bubbled within her. She had never felt so alive, she was so used to the contact flying, and now from a long pause of not flying, the thrill of it made a temporary escape from the weight of her worries. In this moment, everything felt right.

But as they glided higher, a familiar ache crept into her heart, reminding her of the shadows that trailed her. She missed the forest—the sacred whispers of Eywa, the gentle rustle of leaves, and the warmth of the trees that had sheltered her since childhood.

Here in the sky, surrounded by laughter and light, she felt a pang of loneliness wash over her, contrasting sharply with the joy around her. It was as if she were living in two worlds, one filled with happiness and the other weighed down by unspoken fears and doubts

In a moment of bliss, Lorre leaned against Aonung’s chest, seeking comfort in his solid presence. She didn’t even realize she had done it until she caught him making a playful face at her, his brows raised in mock surprise.

Flushing, she quickly apologized, her voice barely rising above the rush of wind. - Sorry, I didn’t mean to lean on you.

Aonung shrugged, a sly smile tugging at his lips. - It’s okay. I don’t mind he replied, his voice teasing yet warm. Relieved, she nestled back against him, savoring the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her. The simple comfort of his presence felt grounding.

She cherished this moment, this sense of belonging, even as the shadows of her heart threatened to break through. Here, high above the world, she felt both the exhilaration of freedom and the weight of her unspoken fears.

────────

When they landed, night had already fallen, and the stars dotted the sky like scattered jewels.

Glancing around, Lorre spotted Kiri emerging from the water, her Ilu vanishing beneath the surface. She waved her over. - Kiri, over here!

Kiri smiled and came over quickly. - How was the flight?

Before Lorre could respond, Tsireya spoke up, her voice sounding silent as she got off the Ikran with Lo’ak’s help. - I was thinking… maybe we could visit the soul tree tomorrow.

- Really? Kiri asked, her expression brightening slightly. - I’ve missed that. It’s been too long since I connected with Eywa.

- That sounds nice. Lorre added, a calm smile crossing her face. - It’ll be good to go together.

Lo’ak wandered over after settling his Ikran. - I’m in! he said with a tired smile, placing his hands on Tsireya’s shoulders

Neteyam walked over beside them a moment later, watching the group before nodding, already starting to head out to their family’s Marui.

- Goodnight, Paz. she whispered softly. The Ikran nuzzled her briefly when Lorre disconnected from Paz, and the Ikran gave a sharp screech, flapping her wings before flying back to join the others. Neteyam’s and Lo’ak’s Ikrans followed her, their powerful wings stirring the air before they disappeared into the darkness.

As they began walking back to the village, Lorre felt Aonung’s presence beside her. He stayed quiet, but she could feel his gaze on her as they walked. The warmth of his arm brushed against hers, a subtle closeness that she didn’t pull away from.

[court-jobi]

Sneak Peek: Just Be Gentle pt 2

Gif credit by @javier-pena

I am SO delayed in this, but WIP Weekend it is! Recommended by the lovely @djarins-cyare, thanks friend!

I have not visited my drafts folder in sooo long, but I'm coming out of an unintentional writing hiatus and have fresh motivation to open the ole lappytop back up for a little sample to share. Part 1 of this fic was much beloved by yall apparently, so it continues here!

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x reader

Words: 1.9K (for now)

For my Star Wars | Mandalorian Masterlist, check it out here!

Paz watched the scene before him unfold; the heat of compassion bloomed in the gut like stoking a fire…

Din Djarin swore on the deed of his ship that he wasn’t exaggerating. He placed a flag solidly in her camp, and would go to arms for her as a returned gesture of loyalty. From that first meeting when the Hunter came back through the alcove to Nevarro’s covert, he spoke on his companion’s competence on several fronts. Namely, in all the ways that resonated with his people: creative thinking, handy know-how, and something more: empathy- a gift not to be ignored when it came to caring for others -himself included- in moments of high stress. 

He praised her talents ‘all across the board’, citing moments in their brief stint together on the Razor Crest as testimony to his Mandalorian clan for her to remain there in shelter– to be the exception to their rules regarding outsiders. Aruetti. 

A surprise to none, Paz Vizsla deemed that it would be up to him to judge such loyalties for himself; as a man more inclined to view actions as proof rather than words. 

But then he met her. Every bit of what Djarin said was true. Better yet, she proved every assumption of his wrong: allowed her to take him by the crook of his arm, surrendered her best vote of confidence, and let him lead. Acquiesced to his strength, protected it, and encouraged him at every turn. Saved him the first of her meals, the best of her scavenged findings. Took to tending to his wounds herself, because he wasn’t gentle enough to do so on his own.

A few weeks have passed since that day, but his fondness for her didn’t wane like the moon’s phases did. Paz Vizsla made it his mission from that moment forward to carry an extra ounce of gentleness, just for her. 

Then, the refugees came pouring in. Her arrival couldn't have been timed more perfectly, Paz thought; he’d only begun to see the full measure of little Song’s magic the moment he saw her skills at work. 

A smaller covert made a quick exit and raced to safety after a raid depleted their stores a few systems over. There had been some rumors of their hunter clans taking the bait of Guild membership in order to make ends meet, as they’d seen in Djarin’s success. The Way instilled a sense of belonging wherever Mandalorians crossed paths, so merging on his covert’s territory for the upcoming season out of necessity was a given.

But now, in light of Nevarro’s storm season, it seems their numbers would be doubling indefinitely. The situation proved to be a strain and test of everyone’s flexibility and resilience, to keep everyone content and organized on such short notice… but with a Vizsla as Alorad, they flourished with the change in plans and watched on as Paz steeled himself against Fear, and made everything suitable. Supplies were rationed and rooms were stuffed to the brim, but they would make do.

While they may not have resources with them in tow, they more than made up for it by pulling their weight in preparation for the underground shelters. And that, would benefit all. 

Song made herself indispensable, true to what Djarin had said. Moreover, she did so with caring smiles and solemn assurances to the migrating Mandalorians -young and old- who felt very out of place. To those men who lost their way in the bustle and found themselves turned around in the tunnels, she would give quick pointers about where to go– and thanked them for their service to the clan, each and every one. 

Learning fast. Paz was grateful.

Upon nightfall, there was less commotion than normal. As the common spaces gradually funneled down, bedchambers were lit and sealed for the night. For the most part, it was the heads of families -adults- who went to rooms for the night as a chance to let down and get their heads on straight after such a sudden move. Surely not all slept right away, but took to tending to their armor and delving into their meditation practices.

 Meanwhile, their children under ten or so were sent off to the creche where they could be watched over. The community room was next to the medstations, and as kids are often ones to complain of very little bout of aches, pains, or simple snotty noses, it was the logical choice. 

Two crechemasters stayed in the spacious alcove of the Medbay annex overseeing the creche, as well as one of the resident tribe’s kitchen aides, a few men as guards near the entrance and supply doors… and a certain someone -with a voice like the Coming of Spring- that Paz Viszla could never refuse pausing for a minute to listen….

Clearly tugged by the soft spot within him, Paz volunteered to serve first watch over the children for their first night, which made their parents feel that much more assured of their protection. So with blankets pulled from every corner of spare storage, canvas mats laid this way and that, and with juvenile excitement despite the circumstances, the children all got to sleep and the staff interchanged periods of rest until all was quiet by the early waning hours of morning. Even the covert’s local young ones came to join this slumber party of sorts. For the sake of welcoming and strengthening bonds, the crechemasters allowed it. 

Right after the 0300 guards changed out, Paz heard it. Inside the alcoves inset bunks, one of the smallest boys -nearly four years old- was making a steady and increasing amount of noise, until he startled himself awake and clearly didn't know where he was. He was calling for his babuir in their native tongue; but by his aimless flailing about, it’s clear he’s looking for just about anyone bigger than him that might come to his cry for help.

Before Paz could overstep one of the sleeping children nearest him to respond, he caught the woman he'd know to know as the 'Songbird of the Covert' slipping out of the window jumpseat like a sparrow off its perch, flying to the child's stuttering form up on the riser.

"Well hi honey, g'morning to you too~ Pretty early, isn't it?"

Seeing a soothing figure coming to his call, little threadbare arms immediately shot out and spoke brokenly in bits and pieces of a particular Sundari dialect. Basic wasn't his strong suit. Then again, it gave way to crying in minutes anyway, so his distress was clear and the language barrier mattered little.

"Hm?-- ohhh, aw c'mere bub..” the woman set the child on a hip as he clutched to her. She set them in a sway, “Yeah, you can stay up with me– I can always use some snuggles, too."

The toddler nuzzled in but by his whimpers, Song moved towards the open atrium with more room to walk around and hopefully not disturb the sleeping of any others. 

Paz met her there. She'd looked his way with a pitiful expression, traipsing about with the little one in her arms and keeping his little shoulders pressed in close.

"Bad dreams, I'd say," she murmured low to Paz, in Basic. "But I can't tell if anything else is wrong. Doesn’t feel too warm, not coughing. Seems trusting though, poor thing. " she shrugged, motioning to how easily the child was settling.

Through his careful watch of her across the room, he’d caught her sneaking the back of her hand to his forehead earlier in a move masked as just fixing his curls, but fortunately, he must not have been found feverish to warrant more worry. 

Paz came to bring a big, steady hand on the child's back. The kid turned his head from her neck to find the new Alorad tilting his helmet to match, and  made a big sniff to put on a brace face. Shy and no doubt aware of this elder’s importance, he snuck out a little wave back in acknowledgement.

"//Be at peace, young one. You're safe in the Reliable one's arms, that you are.//"

Whatever Paz said to this "adika" -as he seems to have called him- brought relief to the child, as he hugged her neck tighter and made himself comfortable again in her arms.

An amused whisper graced his ears as she looked up at him,

"What'd you say?"

"That he has nothing to worry about," Paz shared kindly. "He seems to like you."

 "I wouldn't think these kiddos would trust strangers so easily after what they've been through," she smoothed back the child’s hair gently- thankfully, his breathing evened out into sleepy sighs.

 "They've had quite the eventful last few days."

She kept humming away for a minute, trying to subconsciously lull the child the rest of the way. She looked absently over the nursery if other young ones, but Paz was captivated by her alone.

This instinct must have been what Djarin was talking about. She hadn't hesitated to jump right in, even though she must have been on the edge of sleep herself- if her state of dress was any hint. Shed opted for no outer protective layers for this reason perhaps- a source of comfort for the little ones, and though perhaps it was also to signify to them she was not a warrior or someone too formal for them to shy away from.

Finally seeing the child dozing back fully, Paz offered to take the child from her and set him back on his bunk above them.

 She let him, adjusting her loose cardigan back onto her shoulder. Shed opted for that over her cropped black body glove that acted as a breastband, and the loose comfy pants that honestly have fit Paz better, but she made do with her current wardrobe and didn't bother worrying about outfits too much.

Here, just over his shoulder, she watched the Big Blue tuck -yes, tuck- the child in. Stepping away only when he saw the child try to settle into his new sleep position did he step away and back towards her retreat to her watch corner.

"Teacher and carer? You're the dual package, Mr. Vizsla."

"I do what I can. It's not often I get to see our children be children- I would preserve that wonder in them if I could."

Childlike innocence: to hear the hardest-working, stoic soldier speak on such tender things was a thing of wonder itself. 

“I’ve only ever seen the little ones work their drills here– recitations, history lessons.” She looked about the room. “I haven’t seen kids this young in a year, much less so many crammed into one room.”

“Well, the rooming arrangement is common practice,” Paz explained, his trademark patience a soothing constant- even through the helmet, “You’ll find a nursery like this in every covert across the galaxy.”

Then, a more sobering thought, one that brought pity to the forefront of her mind:

“If– you weren’t all living down here, would they be going to a normal school? Making other friends? At least while they’re young?”

As if she expected any other answer, Paz’s reflex came through the form of his gentle whisper: “This is the Way.”

“That it is,” she firmed up a knowing smile. “There’s so many of them, going through so much newness at their age.”

Paz agrees, though knows no other way than the community that sleeps before them. To watch the woman’s empathy radiate from her being -those angel eyes- was to know the warmest ray of sunshine in the pit of winter. Such a calm presence… that’s what these youth need, after all. She’s exactly where she should be.

[javier-pena]

permission

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader x Paz Vizsla

Word Count: 3.3k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You belong to Paz ... but there's something about Din Djarin. He's on your mind constantly.

Warnings: threesome (m/f/m) | I’m taking great liberty with the Death Watch’s rules (Din takes his helmet off in front of Paz) | Din and Paz have a difficult relationship | mentions of alcohol | semi-public sex | voyeurism kink | oral (f receiving) | use of a blindfold | use of restraints | mentions of breasts (no size though) | overstimulation | multiple orgasms | unprotected p in v sex | masturbation (m) | a bit of spanking | a bit of anal (f receiving) | creampie

Notes: I had the idea for this fic somewhere toward the end of Mandalorian S3 and then it took me a while to find the time to write it but here it is 🤭 shoutout, as always, to Dani @alexturner for reading this in advance even though she definitely isn't a Paz girlie.

***

The air in the private booth is stuffy, filled with laughter, with cries and music, with the sounds of metal jugs hitting wooden surfaces, spilling their contents over tables and hands. The only thing separating you from the commotion beyond is a thin curtain, only there to give the occupants of the room a semblance of privacy.

It’s just you and Paz tonight – he sits perched on a wooden stool that groans under his massive body every time he shifts. You sit on his lap, cool beskar steel pressing into your thighs through your thin pants. And then there’s Din Djarin, whom you have known for as long as you’ve known Paz, maybe even longer. Memories begin to blur when you hop from planet to planet, from system to system.

With one hand, Din lifts his helmet so his chin and bottom lip are exposed, and takes a sip from his drink. Paz mirrors him, shifting his weight and you with it. You lean closer to him for some purchase against his hard chest, looking at a spot just behind Din’s head, at a brown stain on a gray wall, at a lamp barely bright enough to illuminate a little corner, at a small bug scurrying down from the ceiling. You look anywhere but at Din’s visor, anywhere but at the macrobinocular viewplate that hides his piercing eyes, those eyes he can’t keep off you, that have been on you ever since you all sat down. As long as you find other things to focus on, his gaze doesn’t hold any power over you.

“Are you’re sure they’re on this planet?” you attempt to make conversation, to distract Din and yourself.

Both men grunt, but that’s the only response they grant you.

You shift on Paz’s lap, you squirm, and he slings an arm around your waist, gloved hand coming to rest on your stomach. His other hand holds onto his jug while his eyes pin down the man opposite him.

“If I was running from the law, I’d try to hide somewhere warm, preferably with a beach,” you try to strike up a conversation for a second time.

“They’re not running from the law,” Paz answers, his thumb brushing against your stomach.

“No, I know,” you say. “I was just saying, there are nicer places to hi-”

The rest of the sentence is lost somewhere in the stuffy air as Paz’s hand glides lower, two fingers coming to rest at the apex of your thighs, pressing down. You can’t be sure, but you think Din’s gaze follows Paz’s motions … at least he lowers his helmet slightly. He could also be staring at your chest, you realize, your face hot with embarrassment.

“Where would you hide then?” Din asks, a metallic undertone in his voice, distorted by the modulator in his helmet.

“Niamos, maybe,” you answer. “I’ve heard Spira is nice –”

An insistent pull low in your abdomen makes you leave the sentence hovering unfinished in the air above the table. Two of Paz’s fingers are massaging you through your pants, the pressure enough to light up your core, not really enough for anything else. You grip the edge of the table, pretend you’re trying to get more comfortable on Paz’s lap, while Din raises his head, his gaze settling on the man behind you. There is a wordless exchange – you can see it in the way Din shifts his shoulders, hear it in the harsh exhale of breath coming through Paz’s modulator.

Suddenly, Paz slings his arm around your chest and grips your shoulder with his free hand. “Do you really think you’d be able to outrun us?”

Your vision blurs as you see yourself cowering in a dark air vent, as you imagine yourself crouching behind the trunk of a sturdy tree, laying low in a run-down motel, scraping together some credits to bribe an official to let you off a planet without papers. All the while, you’re looking over your shoulder, you scan every crowd for a flash of beskar, blue or brown, for the glint of a visor reflecting sunlight. You see them kick down the door to your room, tie you up, drag you back to their ship … No, you wouldn’t be able to outrun them.

You shake your head.

“No, you’re right,” Paz agrees, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, even with the helmet covering his face.

He slips his hand past the waistband of your pants then, the coarse leather of his glove rough against the soft skin of your thighs and belly. He reaches down to where wet heat has begun to moisten your underwear, and holds you, his palm resting against your clit. Din’s chest is rising and falling so fast you notice it in spite of the strong armor covering him. You force yourself to stare directly at his visor, to imagine his hidden eyes on you, his mouth hanging open. Your own mouth is dry, you can feel your heartbeat in your throat.

“I think you’d like that,” Paz goes on. “I think you’d like being at our mercy like that.”

You nod, because he’s right. You nod, because the thought has crossed your mind once or twice, when you watched them bring someone in, when you watched them handle their bounty as if they weighed nothing, their captive’s pleas falling on deaf ears. You nod, because Din’s hand closes harder around his jug, the leather of his glove groaning.

Paz notices too, and you can hear the gloating in his voice when he speaks next. “Would you like to touch her?”

You belong to Paz, but Din – it’s complicated. It’s an open secret there’s tension between the two men, between these two brothers by creed, because Paz got to you first. It’s a well-guarded secret, hidden in a deep, dark corner of your heart, that you sometimes wish Din had been first, that you sometimes lie awake, imagining his hands on you instead of Paz’s. And it’s a fact that Paz likes to tease both of you because of that.

Paz’s question is followed by a shift of his palm, by increased pressure against your clit. You bite your lip to contain a whimper.

“Paz …,” Din says, and it sounds like a warning. Or a plea.

“You know what to say,” Paz responds, and a shiver runs down your spine at the commanding tone in his voice.

Your eyes are glued to Din’s visor, a silent plea written all over your face. Say yes, say yes, say yes. But Din only has eyes for his brother, his rival, purposefully avoiding your gaze. And then he speaks.

“May I touch her, please?”

The strain in his voice does make you whimper this time. Paz hears it, and so does Din. A big hand is grabbing one of your breasts now, squeezing it, rolling your nipple. You find purchase between the table and Paz’s thigh, but you can already feel the sizzling edges of an orgasm making its way toward you with greedy hands. Din watches, shifts in his seat, adjusts himself in his pants. And somewhere, far away, a man shouts, a glass bursts.

“Go on, then,” Paz says, letting go of your breast to spread your thighs with a sure motion.

Here? is your first thought. The second, much louder one, is Fuck …! as Din stands up, shaking hands balled into fists at his side, a visible bulge in his dark pants.

Paz pushes you off his lap, pulls down your pants and underwear in one quick motion, then pulls you back toward his chest. He spreads you open with both hands, an offering for Din to do with as he pleases. Or maybe not quite. Because when Din gets to work on pulling his cock out of his pants, Paz snaps, “No. Get on your knees.”

Din stops, uncoils his fingers, then balls them into fists again, a quick succession of small movements. His shoulders tense as he looks at you, spread open for him, as he wonders if the price might be too high after all. You know him well enough to know he’s weighing getting to touch you against following Paz’s rules. He can’t have one without the other. You want to whisper his name, you want to call out for him, but one wrong move, one wrong word, and Paz is going to take this away from the both of you.

Din stills his hands eventually, presses the open palms against his thighs, and makes up his mind. You feel the ground shake as he falls to his knees in front of you, then raises his helmet to seek out your eyes. The visor is too dark for you to be able to tell what lies beyond it, and you wish you’d be allowed to see his face, his eyes, just once, but before you can even ask for something as ridiculous as that, your vision turns dark.

“Take off your helmet,” Paz commands as he ties a piece of dark fabric tightly over your eyes. You squirm as your heart begins to race, but Paz presses you tightly against his body. “Stay still,” he whispers into your ear. “We’re going to take care of you.”

You feel a pounding between your legs at the hissing sound you hear next. Your breathing is too hard, too shallow, but with your eyesight gone, you have to rely on your other senses. The shouts from behind the curtain are louder than before – you can make out individual voices, certain words and phrases – and you are keenly aware of the fact that any second now someone could burst into the room to see you spread open like this with a man kneeling between your legs while another one holds you down.

That doesn’t stop your chest from vibrating with a deep moan when Din tentatively licks across the wet heat between your thighs. The first stroke of his tongue is a relief, the second kindles something within you, the third one and all the others following are torture. Paz starts to massage your breast again and your head falls back against his chest, relying on him and Din to make sure you won’t slide to the floor. Din’s licks become faster, more eager, as he buries his face between your legs, drinking you down like he’s starving and the taste of you is the only thing that can save him. His hands find their way to your thighs and he digs his fingers into your soft skin, spreading you even further, licking deeper and deeper.

“Don’t touch her,” Paz growls.

Din squeezes your thighs, but lets go quickly. You miss his touch, but know better than to say something. Instead, you twine your legs around his shoulders, caging him in with your thighs. He moans against your clit, and you shiver, pressing yourself harder against his chin and tongue and nose. Then his hands are on the back of your thighs, massaging your ass, pressing you even closer as he starts to feast on you, barely coming up for air.

“I said don’t fucking touch her.” Paz pulls you off Din’s shoulders, away from him, and stands while dropping you onto his stool.

It’s pathetic, really, the way you whimper, “Please,” but neither man hears you. You just hear sounds, a whirr, the sound of Din’s angry grunts of protest, armor clanging against armor. And then Paz says, “That’ll teach you”.

He picks you up again and places you back on his lap, and then Din’s face is pushed against you. He grunts his surprise and you hiss at the sudden return of his tongue. You hear the sound of leather tightening, and then Din’s head moves as if he has been shoved. A second later, both of Paz’ hands are on your body again, while Din’s remain absent.

Your entire body hums with the sensation of Din licking into you, each stroke hungrier than the last, while Paz holds you against him, watches over you, makes sure you’re okay. Sometimes, there are orders, “Not too fast. More pressure. Take your time with her,” other times there are questions, “Do you like how wet she is for you? Do you see how her legs are shaking?” and sometimes there are encouragements, “Yes, that’s it. You’re doing so well. Beautiful.” You’re not quite sure who the recipient of those is.

You come once with a surprised shout, spilling down Din’s chin, and hear all the sounds become wetter. Din doesn’t stop though, and Paz doesn’t tell him to either, and when you try to squirm away, raw and overstimulated, Paz makes sure you stay in place. You come a second time, moaning and panting so loudly Paz clamps a hand over your mouth until all you can taste is leather. Even after you’ve stopped shaking, even when you can’t do anything but hang limply between their bodies, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your heart beating so fast it feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest, blood rushing in your ears and pounding through your body, Paz still doesn’t let go, only says, “Another one.” Your feeble protest is lost between his thick fingers covered in hard leather.

You’re not sure you can come a third time, even though you can feel yourself flutter against Din’s tongue from time to time, even though there is an insistent throbbing there every time he sucks your clit into his mouth. Too weak to push him off, even if Paz would let you, all you can do is lie there and take it until they’re both satisfied. Paz squeezes your nipple again, but finally releases your jaw, and you breathe in deeply, gulp down air. The sweat running down from your brow mingles with a few stray tears pushing past the blindfold.

“Come on, girl, you can take it,” Paz whispers somewhere above you, and you nod, licking your dry lips.

The next thing you feel is Paz’s naked finger against your lips, tasting of Revnog. You lick it eagerly, tasting the sharp sting of the drink and the rich flavor of leather. As a reward, he grants you two fingers next, both coated in Revnog. As you suck them into your mouth, Din shifts between your legs, changing the angle slightly, and you’re pulled forward by a third orgasm, one that’s been building for a while now, one that catches you by surprise and refuses to let you go once it has you in its grasp. Your moans are choked by Paz’s fingers in your mouth; when you get too loud, he presses down against your tongue, making you choke. When you’re too quiet, he lessens his hold so he can hear you better.

Once you’re spent, ears ringing so loudly the sounds beyond the curtain seem muffled, far away, like you’re listening to them through a thick wall of water, Paz lifts you off his lap and places you on the stool where you slump, unable to keep yourself upright. A noise much closer to you, one that penetrates your exhausted mind, is the sound of Din trying to catch his breath, his shallow pants, his groans as he shifts on the floor in front of you. And finally, you can make out the hum of a vibroblade as Paz cuts him loose.

When Paz takes off your blindfold, he does it gently, careful not to touch you more than necessary. He strokes your cheek, his fingers cool and coarse against your heated skin. You blink a few times, waiting for your vision to become less blurry, and then look up at him hovering above you, taller than usual, his shoulders tense, his stance wide. You know what comes next.

Paz hands you his jug, lets you take a swig from it, then pulls you off that stool and pushes you against the table. You grunt as your chest hits the wood, try to push yourself up, but Paz pushes you back down, one hand sprawled across your back, kicking your legs apart with his foot.

“Hold her down,” he grunts.

When you look up, you see Din stand in front of you, his face already hidden behind his helmet again. The pang of disappointment you feel at that sight is quickly replaced by seething lust as he grabs both your wrists with one hand and holds them down against the wood. Between this and Paz’s hold on your hips, there is no chance of escape for you.

Behind you, the rustle of clothes cuts through the suddenly still atmosphere, laden with expectation. Then you feel Paz’s cock against your backside as he drags himself over your exposed skin before pushing into you with one quick stroke. You scream, nails digging into the wood – he’s so big, so heavy … you’re not sure you can take it. Paz gives you a moment to breathe, strokes down your back to calm you, even whispers, “Shhh,” (a hissing sound through the modulator). But then he pulls out and slams back into you so hard you see stars.

“Please,” you whimper, but he only tightens his hold on your hips.

You try to move but you can’t. Din, who feels you struggle against his hold, circles one of your wrists with his thumb in a soothing motion and you swallow hard as you try to relax. Paz’s palm lands against your bare ass with a slap and you’re being pushed forward, up the table. The sound you make is closer to pleasure than pain now.

“Do it, pretty boy,” Paz grunts between thrusts, and you glance back up at Din, watch as he pulls himself out of his pants, hope you don’t imagine the slight tremor in his hand. Your mouth turns painfully dry at the sight of his cock, completely hard, a dark red on the verge of becoming purple, its tip glistening invitingly. He begins to stroke himself fast, eyes fixed on you as he groans with relief, and you feel his hold on you become less hard.

Escape is now the last thing on your mind. You lick your lips eagerly as you imagine what it would feel like to have Din’s cock press against your tongue, spilling down your throat. And you hope Din has similar thoughts as he stares at you, chest heaving. Paz slaps you again. Then he closes his fingers around the back of your neck, pushing your head down. You push back against him in defiance, but he only slaps you a third time.

“You’re mine,” he growls.

Your fingers scrape against a bit of exposed skin on Din’s wrist.

“Come on, say it,” Paz orders, between three particularly vicious thrusts.

For a brief moment, you consider defying him, but there is something about the whimper you think you hear from Din’s direction that tells you he likes seeing you be used like this.

“I’m yours,” you give in.

“Good girl,” Paz praises. Then you feel a pressure between your cheeks, followed by a burning sensation as he pushes a finger past your muscles, taut with pleasure.

You don’t come, at least you don’t think you do, but you can feel yourself clench around Paz so hard his movements become erratic. Before you feel his hot release spilling into you, you hear Din hiss, “Fuck!” and feel him coat your bare arms, your cheeks, and the table beneath you in thick, white ropes.

While Paz fucks his seed into you with a few final, deep thrusts, you lick Din’s cum from the corner of your mouth, savoring its heady taste. And Din strokes your cheek, softly, like he’s savoring nothing more than this moment.

***

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