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maybege · 7 months ago

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What If - Part Two

Summary: Your alpha invites you to spend the night with him.

Pairing: alpha!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader

Wordcount: 6.5k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), finger sucking (again lol), oral fixation maybe, oral sex (f receiving), use of a blindfold, crying during sex (the good kind!), overstimulation (a little?), unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk and loving verbal humiliation,

Happy Weekend! If you follow me on tumblr, you might already know that I had to split Part 2 into two due to its size (pun intended), so this is technically Part 2.1 and basically just porn, so beware. I really enjoyed reading your comments both on Tumblr and AO3 and I am looking forward to seeing your reactions to this part, too! (Also I promise the comment reblogs on tumblr are coming, I just need to recover from TTPD).

Again: Just a little reminder, that this is not strictly adhering to canon and I am just roughly imagining what actually happened during these episodes.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Considering how intimately you had gotten to know Paz Vizsla, you were surprised by how nervous you were about the thought of seeing him again.

The next day had you feeling skittish, even feeling a little uneasy. You knew that the clans were going into negotiations. Though they called it strategy meetings, everybody who could think two steps ahead knew that this was the first hurdle when it came to the clans working together.

Briggs had been tense at the first meal of the day, already suspecting that it would end in a debacle and now here you were, helping to take an inter-clan inventory of supplies for when worst came to worst.

Until a giant shadow fell over you.

“Calm me.”

“What?” you looked up at the armoured alpha, the one you had not seen at all this morning.

“Calm me,” he repeated and you saw how his gloved hands had clenched into fists, “I am this close to bashing that di’kut’s head in and I am not sure how beneficial that would be for our inter-clan relations.“

You smiled, somehow doubting that he was truly considering violence against Axe Woves (because there was no question he was talking about him) but, as his calmer, it was your duty to take all hints seriously. And if this wasn’t a hint, then you did not know what was.

“I can’t just,” you paused, searching for the proper words since the foundlings were not too far away, “calm you out here in the open.”

Paz tilted his head. “Calming isn’t about the sex, love, it's about the scent,” he grunted before tugging his scarf down. “I am asking you to scent me.”

Somehow that kind of request made you even more nervous. You had not seen his skin the day before but now the sliver of tan that was revealed to you made your heart skip a beat. You stepped against him, ignoring your shaking hands as you stood on your tiptoes and ran your nose over his neck.

Breathing in his scent, you found he smelled just as good as he did last night, of spice and smoke and something woodsy that made you want to close your eyes and think of spending a day between the trees. You repeated the movement, your nose brushing against the spot just under his ear and he groaned. The sound, low and deep, made you tremble.

Faintly, you could feel him shift until his hand landed on your lower back and pulled you closer. His skin was hot, heated by the fabric and you closed your eyes. You stood so close to him you felt engulfed by his presence, by his scent. Forgotten was the inventory, forgotten were the meetings you were supposed to attend today. All you wanted to do was to scent him, to coax his scarf down just a little more, to see if you could feel any stubble on his jaw or maybe even a beard.

“Stars, ‘mega,” you heard him growl, his voice so close to your ear it sent a rush of need through you.

When you pulled away you felt intoxicated, a little less inhibited. Paz smelled so much better now that he had a hint of you on him, you found, and you made a mental note to keep up this scenting practice for as long as he would let you.

“So … no sex then,” you concluded, trying to keep your sadness out of your voice. But of course, the man in front of you caught it like he seemed to catch everything about you.

“Disappointed?”

You avoided his visor, hoping that he could not see the way you tried to squeeze your thighs together.

“I keep thinking about last night,” he revealed, “Keep thinking about how tight you gripped me, how you opened up for me, how you looked sitting on my cock. Did you think about it?”

You nodded. “I did.”

“Hm,” he replied, “And what did you like about it, omega? What do you like about me?”

“I like how much bigger you are,” you confessed in a whisper, “I wondered …”

“Wondered what?” he asked, his hand pulling you closer, “Tell me, omega.”

“I wondered what it would be like to be underneath you,” you continued, your cheeks burning in embarrassment.

His thumb rubbed over the inside of your wrist, scenting you, “Did anyone ever take you from behind?”

Your silence was answer enough.

“Here is what we are going to do,” he rumbled, then, “You are coming to my bunk tonight. You will bring nothing but your softest robe, your favourite snack. I want you naked when I arrive, understand? Naked and waiting for me. I will put a blindfold on you, and then I am going to put my mouth on that little pussy of yours. How's that sound?”

“Good.”

“That is what I like to hear. And after I made you come on my tongue, I am going to position you just like this.” He turned you around, your back to his chest, “You will be flat on your belly, little one, I will spread your legs and then I am going to fuck you from behind until all you can say is my name.”

Your breathing picked up, heart rate as well. Felt your pussy weep at his words and even though he wore his helmet, your head lolled to the side, enabling him to scent you if he could.

“Will you …”

“Will I what?”

“Will you come inside me again?”

“Do you want me to?”

Nodded, embarrassed but nodded. He chuckled, low and dark, his finger tipping your chin up, “Then I will, sweet omega. I will come inside you. If you stay the night, I might just put you on my cock and come inside you again sometime during the night, fill you up real good. Would you like that?”

“Stars yes.”

You could not focus the rest of the day, your thoughts plagued by a large blue figure.

You were so flustered, in fact, that Chants kept asking you what was wrong and you were not brave enough to tell him. Until you looked at Paz one too many times and your best friend put two and two together.

“I didn’t see you last night after the fire,” he noted, his voice way too innocent for your liking, “How was it? Do you like the alpha you are paired with? What was his name again – Wizz… Wizz-something?”

“Vizsla,” you corrected him before you knew better, “Paz Vizsla.”

By now, you knew your friend long enough to know when he was teasing you. And the twinkle in his eyes told you that Chants was in teasing mode. “He is quite big, isn’t he?”

You swallowed, trying to focus on the bandages you were rolling up. “Yeah, he is.”

“Is he big … everywhere?”

“Chants!”

“What?” he laughed, avoiding the bundled-up wool that flew his way, “A friend can ask. “

“How about you tell me how it is going with Djarin?”

“Oh we are doing just fine,” he chirped, winking at you, “Though I spend my night in my own bunk.”

“I was in my own bunk, too,” you protested, hoping he did not notice how flustered you were.

“Yeah, after your alpha brought you home,” he replied easily, counting a stack of jars, “And left his cape for you.”

“He smells good …”

“Oh no doubt,” he smirked, “And what was this morning about, then? Him having you scent him out in the open?”

You did not have an answer to that.

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged, “I don’t think any of the other alphas left their capes for their calmers. Maybe something is different about you two?”

And though you had to force yourself not to answer, you could not help but spend the rest of the day daydreaming about what it could be like to be Paz Vizsla’s omega.

Paz did not have one of the tents that were attributed to the warriors. Instead, he had his own little room in one of the ships. You knew it spoke to his high position in the clan that he got these private quarters and it felt strangely intimate that he allowed you in here on his own.

Just like he had promised, a blindfold was waiting for you. And next to it, a hastily scribbled note. Get comfortable, it said, and by that I mean get naked.

With a grin, you let your eyes roam around the room and land on a bowl of fruit on the table. Had he gotten them for you? Your chest felt strangely warm at the thought and your heart raced as you popped one of the sweet berries into your mouth. Outside, the sun was lowering in the sky, you knew he would be here soon. And you had been up a long time already, too, you could feel the ache in your limbs as you sat down on the mattress.

You squeaked in surprise when you sank in way more than you had expected. Testing the softness, you found that not only was his bedding incredibly soft, no, but the mattress was much softer than the standard issue as well. Inevitably you smiled at the realization that Paz Vizsla just kept on surprising you. Your big warrior was a big teddy bear.

You took a deep breath and then slipped out of your dress, the cool air brushing over your bare skin. Standing completely naked in a strange room made you feel a little uneasy. After all, you were not familiar with your surroundings and what if you accidentally had walked into someone else's room who had the same arrangement with their calmer?

Noticing how ridiculous your panic got, you rushed onto the bed before you could change your mind. You pulled the soft covers over your legs and relished in how they smelled just like him. Then you took the blindfold – it just as soft to the touch and you wondered if it was made from the same material as his bedding – and tied it around your head. Darkness immediately enveloped you, making you feel more nervous and, at the same time, calm.

Lying down slowly, you curled up under the heaps of blankets that soon warmed from your presence.

And before you knew it, you had drifted off to sleep-

The rush of cold air through the open door barely woke you up. You felt disoriented and it took you a moment to remember that you had a blindfold on and that you were in Paz’s room, not your own. But if the door opened that meant someone was here and you were no longer alone. Every muscle in your body was tense as you debated with bated breath whether you should rip off the blindfold now or wait. Under no circumstances did you want to risk offending Paz but you also did not want to risk being subjected to someone who had no business being here.

“It is me, omega, you are safe.”

His deep voice had you relaxed immediately.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice coming closer, “Are you comfortable?”

Stretching your arms above you, you did your best to suppress a yawn. “Your bed is softer than I expected, alpha,” you teased, “I half thought I might be in the wrong room.”

“Nah,” his chuckle got overshadowed by the metallic clink of his armour landing on … the floor? The table? You were not quite sure but your main takeaway was that he was getting rid of said armour. Paz Vizsla was undressing for you. “Believe it or not I actually like soft things, too.”

“They would be great to build a nest with,” you mumbled as you ran your hands over the fabric. But when you realized what you said, you froze. Had you really said that? Out loud? You hated that you could not see his reaction, whether his body tensed or he was trying to hide a grimace behind his helmet. All you could hear were his quiet breaths until the mattress dipped and he was sitting right next to you.

His scent was stronger, and unfiltered, making his proximity to you that much more exciting because he did not smell displeased. On the contrary.

“I bet,” he replied quietly, his voice a low growl. Warm, big hands found your calves under the blanket, slowly making their way up, “I bet you make the loveliest nests, omega.”

The odd (not odd, your brain provided, intimate) compliment still made your skin flush. Because all it made you think about was what it would be like to share your nest with him. Glorious, was the answer. It would be glorious.

“They aren’t too bad,” you admitted with a shrug, shivering when his fingers dug into your thighs for a brief moment, “I always get the really nice blankets from the market.”

You gasped when the blankets were pulled away, the cool air on your skin immediately replaced with his warm body. He hummed, his body weight settling over you. With so much naked skin against yours, you could hardly focus. He felt just as huge as he had looked yesterday and when he rested half-hard against your thigh, you squirmed.

“Maybe I can see your nests, one day,” he suggested lowly, his mouth brushing over your jaw and down your neck. His mouth brushing over your scent gland had your entire body jolt at the sensation, your blood thrumming with need. “When we have reclaimed Mandalore.”

You were so nervous, you did not know what to say. So your brain came up with the next best thing: Small talk. “I have never been to Mandalore before. Have you?”

“Grew up there,” he explained, nipping at your neck, “Until the – until then.”

You nodded, the pain in his voice enough to tell you that he had lived it all. It made you wonder how old he was – not old enough to have fought in there, surely, but maybe … clearly old enough to have vivid memories of that night. Your heart ached for him and you tilted your head up, a happy sigh escaping you when you got to brush your nose along the entirety of his throat.

Paz relaxed into you, his woody scent enveloping you both.

“That’s not what we are here for now, though, are we?”

His grip was tight on your jaw, strong enough to make sure you could not turn away from him and you could feel his eyes burning into you. You shook your head, nervously swallowing as your body already reacted to his words.

“Remind me again,” he whispered, his lips barely brushing over yours, “What are we here for, sweet omega?”

“You, uh, you …”

“Yes?”

You squirmed, embarrassed.

“Someone too shy to say it?” he teased you, the slight mocking undertone making you wetter than you wanted to admit. How did this man have this effect on you?

“That’s alright,” he said after a beat, “I can say it for you.”

“I am going to eat you out,” he whispered as if it were a secret between you, “I am going to feast on this pussy and then I am going to take you from behind and fill you up like you asked me to, omega. You will wake up tomorrow with so much come between your legs, there is no doubt who filled you up.”

You pressed your thighs together, trying to satiate the pulsing need in your core. “Alpha,” you whispered, unsure of what to say other than just beg him to take you.

“I am going to kiss you now, okay?”

He chuckled at your eager nod before fully pressing his lips to yours.

You were overwhelmed by the sensation. It had been so long since you had been kissed and Paz was a good kisser. The best kisser, actually, who seemed to know just what you needed. His stubble scratched your chin when his teeth dug into your bottom lip, pulling on it until you whimpered. The sting was quickly soothed by his tongue slipping into your mouth and dancing with yours. Your hands found the back of his head, too, playing with the short hairs there and his chest rumbled.

He dominated the kiss effortlessly and you let him, relaxing into the bed and wrapping your legs around him. The unmistakable shape of his cock twitched against your folds and could not resist the urge to grind against him.

Moans escaped both of you. “Fuck,” he hissed when he pulled away. Heavy breaths washed over your face and he rested his forehead against you, “Omega, you have no idea how much I needed you today. I was this close just calling you for the talks …”

“Why didn’t you, then?” you asked, surprised to find yourself disappointed, “I am your calmer after all.”

Paz was silent for a moment as he dropped kisses along your neck and further down. Big hands were on your chest, cupping your tits and wasting no time to pinch your nipples. Just lightly at first, plucking at them before his fingers grew a little rougher. You gasped, arching your back off the bed and towards his mouth. Paz’s body vibrated.

“I don’t know,” he finally answered, his tongue darting out to lick over your nipple, “The thought that all these other alphas get to see you look so pretty when I make you feel good …” he trailed off, his fingers tightening their pinch on your nipple and the pleasure mixed with a delicious level of pain. “I wanted you all for myself before we see Mandalore.”

“Now be a good girl for me and play with your tits,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for questions and you followed. For a moment, you mourned his absence but that did not last long when you felt his hands on your ankles, untangling your legs from his back and folding them to your chest.

Your breath stuttered. With your knees by your ears, you could feel the cool air on your most intimate part and not only that.

You felt exposed and vulnerable but also more turned on than ever. The knowledge that Paz could and probably was looking at you like this, his eyes on your glistening folds, sent another wave of heat through you. Your pussy pulsed and he must have seen it because he let out the lowest groan, causing your walls to clench again.

The sudden presence of his finger made you flinch in surprise and he pauses, the pad of his finger resting just above your clit. “This okay, omega?” he asked.

The smell of his arousal was already in the air but something in his tone still reassured you that he would stop, no questions asked, if you needed him to. And this sense of safety just added to your excitement.

“Yes, alpha,” you breathed, leaning your head back against the pillows.

“Good,” he rumbled, a second and third finger following before you could feel him slowly push inside you. The bed dipped and shifted underneath you as you both adjusted.

“What a beautiful pussy,” he mused, his thumb coming up to rub a circle over your clit and you whimpered, “Could stare at her all night long.”

“P-Paz, please.”

“What is it, little one?” he asked, his thumb steadily running over your clit, sending pulses through your entire body. But with how he had folded you in – “Use your words.”

“You just love to embarrass me, don’t you?” you blurted out, positively surprised at how put together you still sounded. Though you could not deny the breathlessness in your voice, either from excitement or arousal or both you could not say, but who could blame you when you had this massive man above you, playing with your pussy like it was his favourite meal?

“I do,” he agreed and could feel his breath on your folds, the breadth of his shoulder between your legs as he slowly thrust his fingers in you, “Something about corrupting a sweet innocent omega like you makes my cock so hard.”

He licked a broad stripe up your pussy, from your entrance to your clit. Your eyes widened and your body bowed off the bed, your legs trying to close on him but the massive size of his body did a good job preventing it.

“You have no idea the things I want to do to you,” he growled, before pressing a chaste kiss to your clit. “You better keep your legs right where I put ‘em, omega, or at the next meeting I am gonna keep you on your knees and have you cockwarm me with that pretty mouth of yours, understood?”

You forced your trembling hands behind your knees, pulling them to your chest and opening yourself up for him. “Sorry alpha,” you stuttered out. The image his words had conjured up in your head made you clench and you were sure he had seen it.

His hands tightened their grip on your body and his thumbs spread your folds for him as he went down on you like a man dying of thirst. You would have felt oddly exposed to him if it had not been for his tongue and his lips being everywhere, driving you absolutely crazy.

He expertly sucked on your clit until you were sure that not only had you ruined his sheets but that it would only be one more second before you came. But then, he switched back to your entrance, running his tongue along your folds, pressing kisses everywhere until your arousal was at a steady thrum – still pleasant but nowhere near the edge where you had been before. Then returned to your clit, making you see stars before switching back to the rest of you.

Only when you could feel him smiling against your thighs did you realize he was doing it on purpose.

Tears collected in the corners of your eyes, you were that desperate to come. “P-please, alpha,” you gasped out, gripping your knees hard so as to keep to his instructions. Surely, if you did everything he told you to he would reward you. You had been good for him after all …

“Please what?” he mocked you, “What do you need, sweetheart, tell me?”

“Please let me come,” you mumbled, a little flustered.

“Look at that,” he marvelled, “Yesterday you weren’t sure whether you could come on my fat cock, and now you are begging me to let you come on my tongue.” Another well-placed opened-mouthed kiss against your clit and you broke apart.

“Please!” You sobbed, tears now soaking the blindfold, “Please alpha, I will be so good, I promise, you – I will let you do anything just p-please …”

His ministrations paused and the lack of touch almost broke you.

“Are you crying, omega?” he asked, his voice strangely rough. The movement made his stubble brush over the sensitive skin of your hips.

Your cheeks flared with heat in embarrassment but you nodded nonetheless. “It just feels o good,” you admitted in a whisper.

Paz let out a long breath, even that stimulated your clit until you were squirming in his hands. “Fuck,” he murmured, his warm forehead falling onto your lower belly, “that shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does.”

And then he let you come. He made you come.

His lips closed around your clit and all the tricks he pulled out before, he let them play out fully. With your hips grinding against his face, seeking to get closer to him, Paz had his hands holding you still, steadily spreading you for him until you were crying into the cool air.

Even after the first waves of pleasure had rolled over you, the alpha between your thighs did not cease his movements. His mouth got gentler as he licked all that you gave him and sometimes you swore you could feel him hum in satisfaction.

“Good girl,” he praised you quietly and despite everything, you felt yourself flush in arousal at his praise, “You did so good for me.”

Completely out of breath, you felt like you had just experienced one of those training sessions Chants did in the warrior section and that you usually admired from afar.

“Stars,” you breathed, your hands letting go from their grip on your knees. Your legs ached from how you held them for so long and you winced at the movement. Paz was there though, his hands running over your skin and gently helping your legs down before pressing kisses to your thighs.

“You did so good for me,” he repeated affectionately, “’m so proud of you, sweetheart. Using your words, following my instructions.”

“I want a kiss,” was all you could say and he chuckled, leaning in to give you a kiss that had you sighing against him, melting even more into the sheets.

“Thank you,” he whispered against you, his forehead touching yours, “For wearing a blindfold, for allowing me to pleasure you.”

Upon his soft-spoken, honest words, all you could say was, “I can’t speak.”

For a moment, you wondered whether he would misunderstand your lack of response as a lack of reciprocity. But he didn’t. Of course, he didn’t. Paz helped you wrap your arms around his neck, his large hand pressing yours to his nape for a moment before letting you go. Without wasting a moment, you buried your head in his neck, scenting him for all you were worth. You wanted to tell how you felt like you were gloating, how happy you were right now right here.

And despite the lack of words, it seemed to work. His big hand slipped to your back, holding you to him as he leaned back, pulling both of you into a sitting position on the bed.

“Then I did a good job,” he joked. Playfully you slapped him on the chest or at least you planned to but his hand caught yours, gripping your wrist and pinning it to your back. None of it was painful, none of it strict. More … slow and deliberate and loving when his fingers brushed over your wrist gently. This was how he was, it occurred to you, that Paz Vizsla did not need to secure his dominance in any sudden way because he was secure in his dominance. It was never even a question for him whether he would be able to pleasure you. The realization made you even wetter and within moments, it had you forgetting the way he had made you come so undone you did not want to think about being touched again.

“You tasted even sweeter than I imagined,” he revealed with his lips brushing over your cheek.

The whispered compliment made you shift in his lap, causing his hard cock to rub against your folds. A flush went through your body and you tried to shift again, this time getting his shaft to burhs over your clit and you gasped.

“Already?” he teased you, “What a needy little slut I got for myself.”

His fingers returned and you opened your mouth willingly. Just like they did the day before, his fingers moved in and out of your mouth at a slow and deliberate pace, and just like you had done yesterday, you sucked them into your mouth with an eagerness that you were no longer ashamed to showcase for him.

“I promised you I would fuck from behind, didn’t I?” his voice was rough from arousal, his pointer finger pushing down on your tongue.

“Uh-huh”, you swirled your tongue around his fingers, hoping to convey just how much you wanted that.

“Can't wait to work my cock in you again,” he revealed, burying his face in your neck as his fingers slipped so deep in your mouth you gagged. You were clenching around nothing immediately, imagining what his cock would feel inside you. Whether it would feel different now that you knew what was coming.

He pulled his fingers free from your mouth only to put them on your pussy. As if you weren’t wet enough from your orgasm of the century. Carefully, he ran them over your clit and while you felt sensitive still, it was nothing compared to the waves of arousal that returned upon his touch. One thing you knew now: If Paz Vizsla called, your body would answer.

“Tell me if it is too much,” he murmured, kissing the side of your neck as he detangled himself from you. With gentle sounds and strong hands, he directed you to lie on your front and you sunk into the wonderfully soft blankets with a sigh. Then, he straddled you from above, his cock resting heavily on the small of your back.

Even now, he felt massive. So massive that you imagined you could feel him reach the middle of your back, his precome pooling on your skin. But then you had your arms pinned over your head, one of his hands encompassing both of your wrists. And that was just the sexiest thing ever.

He made you feel small, helpless and hornier than ever and it just got better when he pushed inside you for the first time.

“Stars,” you breathed out, clenching your hands into fists. The stretch was just as big as yesterday and in the new position, it took more of an effort to breathe. But he was big inside you, his mushroom tip breaching your entrance.

“You good, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice strained when he pulled out a little just to push back in. And then his thighs shifted, his knees pinning your leg together which made it an even tighter fit and you gasped, feeling him in your belly.

“Wish you could see it,” he commented, “Wish you could see just how good you take my fat cock. How good you are at opening up for me.”

At his words, you tried to lift your ass against him, to get him deeper but his free hand moved to your lower back, pushing you to the bed. “Nu-uh,” he scolded you, “I am the one in charge, little one.”

Oh fuck, why did that turn you on so much?

Your teeth sank into your lip and you whimpered. You would let this man do anything to you. Especially now that, with your back arched, he hit that spot inside you that made you see stars and he seemed to be determined to use it to his advantage.

Paz’s thrusts were slow but deep. Deliberate. His body caged you in, completely covering you as he worked you open on his cock like he had never done anything else in his life. You could feel his breath on your skin, could feel where he gripped your hands, where the muscles in his legs worked to keep him moving, where his belly brushed against your ass.

Paz Vizsla had taken you over completely.

“How do you feel?” he asked, “Happy now you finally have that greedy pussy filled?”

You nodded eagerly, unable to keep the whine down your throat. “F-feels o full, alpha,” you gasped, trying once again to rock against him, “Almost – oh.”

“Almost what?”

“Almost too full.”

He hummed and you noticed how his thrust seemed more urgent. His legs caged your thighs in and you hoped he would squeeze, hoped the movement would put pressure on your clit.

“And yet here you are weeping for me,“ he mused, “You love my too-big-for-you cock, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Say it.”

“Huh?” your hands clenched and you tried your best to listen to him, you really did. But maybe you were also just trying to pretend like you were not too cockdumb to realize what he was asking of you.

“Say you love my big cock,” he murmured, sounding way too controlled for your liking. His thrust and you cried out when it hit a spot inside you that made your whole body shiver in the best way.

“Say it or I won't let you come, sweet omega,” he teased you, his free hand gently running over your back, “Don’t you want to come again, sweetheart? Don’t you want to be filled with my come?”

His words cause something to spiral inside you and all you managed was to nod. You did not know where this need had come from to be so close to him. It felt like you had discovered a part of yourself that you had hidden from everyone – including you. But the thought of finally feeling his come inside you the same way it happened yesterday made your nipples tingle and your pussy weep. And from the way he growled, you knew he felt it.

“Love your cock,” you mumbled into the pillow, your cheek smushed against the soft fabric that smelled like him and that made you distractedly think of what it would be like to spend all your nights in his beds, building your nest and cuddling with him.

“What was that?” he asked, the thumb that kept your hands together brushing over the sensitive spots on your wrist, “Couldn’t hear you, sweetheart.”

“I love your cock!” you cried out, embarrassment in your voice, “L-love it, alpha, makes me feel so good.”

His groan was deep and guttural and you could feel him twitch inside you as his thrusts got even harder. Whimpering into the pillow, you relaxed into the sheet once you realised you could not do it anymore. You felt like you had lost control of your limbs and Paz, in your stead, had gained them.

“Good girl,” he praised you, his arm sneaking to your front and circling your clit as he buried himself as deep into you as he could. It took only the barest of touches for you to fall apart in his arms. And this one was even stronger than the one before. You felt completely weightless, bodyless, too, as your brain registered only pleasure. From your toes to your hairline, all you could feel was him. Him pulsing inside you, him filling you with his come and the thought made you clench around him.

“Stars,” he groaned above you, his weight settling on you. The effect this had on him made you smile, your fingers twitching as you tried to reach for him. Because clearly, having him inside you was not close enough.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice all mumbly and you tried to nod. His body resting on yours made you feel secure in a way you could not describe so you focussed on your breathing first, smiling when his hands intertwined with yours.

“Thank you, alpha,” you whispered

“What for?”

“For making me come,” you murmured, “And, uh, for coming inside me.”

Paz made a sound like a grunt and you could feel him twitch at your words. “You say that like it is a chore,” he replied, his lips running over the back of your neck and you shivered when he brushed over your scent gland, “When all I could think about all day was what you might taste like on my tongue. And how pretty you look on my cock.”

“You didn’t take me to the negotiations this morning,” you stated, unable to help the insecurity that scratched at your heart.

“No, I did not,” he answered and, after a slight pause, added, “And I won't take you to the ones tomorrow morning either.”

Hurt cracked at your heart and you shifted. But Paz misunderstood your restlessness and took it as a sign to get up. The warmth of his body left you and you both whimpered when he slipped out of you.

“This is the prettiest sight,” he commented, his large hands spreading your cheeks apart. You felt puffy and slick and the feeling of his come trickling out of you paired with his fingers digging into your soft flesh made you clench again.

The bed dipped and swayed as he moved and soon, you could feel the weight of his body next to yours and gingerly turned around. His arms found you instantly, pulling you into his chest and you sighed as you settled your cheek on his warm skin.

But no matter how comfortable he was, you could not shake your curiosity. “Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why won't you take me to the negotiations here?”

“What I said is true,” he whispered, “I want to keep you for myself until Mandalore. I want to get to know you, to make sure you …”

You frowned, “Make sure I what?”

“Make sure you are okay being seen with a Mandalorian like me.”

It took you a moment to realise what he was saying. And when you did, you were surprised that a confident warrior like him had worries such as these.

“Paz,” you started, your hand splaying over his chest and feeling his heartbeat, “Are – do you think that because you are from a different tribe I would not want to be seen with you?”

“I know what other Mandalorians think of us,” he grumbled, pulling you closer, “I know that my way of life may not seem … normal to you.”

“Paz,” you started, tracing your fingers in makeshift patterns over his skin, “It may not be my way of life but that does not mean I would ever be … be embarrassed or ashamed of being out there with you. I am you calmer and I am,” you took a deep breath, “I am proud to be your calmer, alpha. I would not want it any other way.”

For a long time, Paz did not say anything and you had the sudden fear that what you had said, what you had implied, was too much, that you had crossed some invisible boundary that kept you at a (professional? Diplomatic?) distance. But you could not help it. Could not help the warm feeling in your chest whenever he was near and the need to make him feel … good. And cherished. And wanted.

Stars, you wanted this man.

“Can I kiss you again?”

His big hand covered the side of your face and even though he could not see it, you closed your eyes and nodded. And then his mouth descended on yours. The kiss was soft and slow, his tongue brushing over your lower lip. You could feel his stubble against your chin and it did not take long before you cupped his cheek as well, feeling the growing beard under his thumb.

Before you could ask him how he kept his facial hair most of the time, a yawn forced its way out of your body. Paz moved his mouth away and you whimpered, trying to get him to kiss you again.

“Sleep, my love,” he whispered against your ear, “We will see each other tomorrow.”

#maybege writes #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x fem!reader #smut

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merp-blerp · 5 months ago

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My Gaylor Journey: A Year Later 🌈

So, I posted about my Gaylor opinions a year ago today, my first (intentional) post about Gaylor after properly looking into the community for the first time and eventually joining it. I can't believe it's been that long, Jesus! Feels both too long and yet too short of a time. Well, I want to commemorate that; hopefully, I'll make sense, as there's so much I feel and want to say. I don't think I'll ever truly get it all out of me. But here:

I've enjoyed my time here so much! This period has been surprisingly influential for me. For one thing, I've gained some lovely mutuals! I've never had so many before, so it's new, but I enjoy you all. You guys are so kind, smart, and welcoming!

I've also learned so much about queerness, the queer experience, and queer history that I just never would've known before. And I was already very into queer history before. I adore how I listen to Taylor's music now. "Wrong" interpretation or not, looking at her music from a queer lens is so interesting and so easy. I had looked at it from a queer perspective before, but it was more through my eyes. How could this song relate to me and my queerness? Never in regards to the possibility of Taylor's. It's crazy to remember being younger, listening to her music, and getting queer vibes, but assuming I was projecting. Nice to know I was never alone in my thoughts. Looking at the potential real muses is fun, but just daring to look at things another way has been fulfilling alone. I had no clue I could get more connected with Taylor's work, but somehow this community has proven me wrong.

Being here has also saved me from a lot of worrying probably. The Swiftie community since Joe ended whatever he had with Taylor has been very much so changed since I discovered it in 2018, so while I have nothing against nice Swifties, I'm glad I mostly stick to the Gaylor side of things these days. This fandom's less crowded and I like experiencing Tay's art this way. Being a fan shouldn't feel so crazy. Not too long ago, I was having a conversation with one of my college mentors, who's a Swiftie, the day after TTPD was announced, I believe. We were both excited and I spouted out several watered-down versions of Gaylor theories (can never be too careful who you Gaylor in front of), cutting out the gay parts, and what I thought they meant for what TTPD was expected to be; theories like the burning lover house symbolizing "a new phase of her career" starting with TTPD, or white symbolizing rebirth, blah, blah, you know. And absolutely no offense to my mentor, she's lovely, but I was a bit gobsmacked when her theories only had to do with Joe. It was so... bare-bones. Dry. Boring. Don't you wonder what this means for Taylor herself, not just some boy she may or may not be dunking on? She also had so much seemingly incorrect info about the Toe narrative, saying Joe has a music career (he doesn't???) and that Taylor herself confirmed, word of mouth, that she cheated on Joe, which definitely would not be very characteristically "cryptic and Machiavellian" of her to just confirm like that. Just saying it would not be how she tells us a detail like that. I didn't realize people truly thought she cheated till that conversation. They were just very hard to believe things, whether or not you believe in Gaylor or mainstream narratives. She said a lot of her theories came from TikTok, so misinformation isn't shocking in the slightest; people rarely give good sources over there, so if you find someone who does they seem to be a needle in a haystack, sadly. But that conversation reminded me just how much things have changed, both in me and the fandom. Having fresh relationship drama for the first time in 6 years made some Swifties feral and I'm glad I'm not in it. Getting swept up in that shit is easy and I fear I could've if it weren't for jumping ship in time. As Taylor's signaling gets louder and louder again, possibly gearing up for another coming-out attempt, I think I joined just in time. The goddess of timing found me beguiling, I guess.

It just makes me sad that for these types of fans, Taylor's music and craft aren't about her anymore, but about the guys. It's so weird to see fans introduce new Swifties by going over all the supposed muses instead of talking about her and how this song or album communicates her emotions about a situation. They are deeply missing out. Even when I was only in the general fandom, despite my jokes about the boys, I ultimately thought Taylor was the most important factor in her songs. And it seemed like others thought that too, until all this new Joe-Travis-drama eclipsed that. Or till some bad new fans came in just for the drama and to hop on the more trendy version of "loving" her that's going on now. Or maybe I was in my own bubble and it's always been like this. She was never simply "Mrs. Alwyn" and she's not "Mrs. Kelce" or even "Mrs. Kloss" and it's strange to see her get called that as if she's not TAYLOR FUCKING SWIFT. That's not enough? Maybe I'm taking it too seriously or literally, but it feels so wrong to boil her down to just that. I get where it comes from, Taylor's music appeals to the hopeless romantics such as myself, but there's more to Taylor, us, and life than just romance and being someone's "spouse".

Many Swifties rightfully criticize the media for only focusing on Taylor's alleged love life, but some of them hypocritically do the exact same thing, only I'd argue it's worse because they seem to think they're entitled to do so because they're fans or feel like her friends. We don't know Taylor. I don't know Taylor. If she's openly talking about her album(s)/re-record(s) and the craft behind creating it, or her emotional journey creating it, maybe don't yell out to her face about some trivial thing connecting to whoever you think the muse is (looking at you TIFF 2022—I'll never be over that). I'm glad Taylor seems to recognize this behavior and has at least tried to remind fans of the distance between herself and them in recent years; I mean, compare the songs she wrote for fans years ago like "Long Live" and "The Archer" vs "Dear Reader" and potentially "You're Losing me" and "But Daddy I Love Him" if you interpret them that way. They're all wonderful, but more recent songs remind us that she's a stranger to us as opposed to just talking about how grateful she is for us (which I'm sure she still is). I've mentioned in the past that I think this is part of why the TV eras beyond the Red TV era and promo for TTPD have been so laid back in comparison; she doesn't want fans getting way too into "defending" her from [insert "ex-boyfriend" here] like they did during Red TV's release, so she's making it less "exciting". 1989 TV didn't even get music videos. She's never dignified invasive questions with a response to interviewers, so why would she for some fan(s)? You aren't any more special or any less of a stranger to her than those interviewers were. None of us are, including Gaylors (that's why we can't out her, strangers can't out strangers with only pure speculation).

I find it interesting to see how differently the two sides of this fandom treat the potential ex-muses of songs. In the general fandom, there's a lot of animosity, where swifties love to joke about hating or destroying whomever (and I'm chill with jokes), but sometimes it goes way too far. Many Swifties hate most potential exes, exceptions being people like Harry Styles or Taylor Lautner because they have their own fandoms that tend to overlap with Taylor's. But Gaylors rarely do the exact same with exes. Potential exes aren't brought up unless necessary and I've never seen anyone even jokingly hate anyone purely because they are an ex and therefore bad; it might be around, but the fact that I can't find it nearly as easily is something. We'll hold ex-muses (and Taylor) accountable for potential mishaps in past relationships and that's it. Say what you will about Gaylors, but I've never heard of any Gaylors sending someone like Dianna Agron death threats like some Swifties have done with John Mayer.

One huge thing I was not expecting when joining this fandom was becoming slightly disillusioned by the Swiftie title. Don't get me wrong, I'm fine with being called that, as I know that's what I am ultimately and it's not terrible to be a Swiftie inherently by any means. But being opened up to the deep homophobia, bullying, and even doxxing in the Hetlor community has really made me feel odd lumping myself in with "Swifties", as they still call themselves, at times. I don't know how I never stumbled across it when in the general fandom, at least not that I can recall (I feel like I would if I did). From what I gather, Swifties have a rep for being a pretty sweet fandom, and many people are, but I can't help but feel sour about it sometimes after seeing what I've seen from some Swifties. I hope one day the homophobia and just basic vitriol with these types of fans can be lightened up by a cultural shift or something. Way too many people are unaware of the layers of the conversation about outing, closeting, speculation, etc. I myself wasn't before entering the Gaylor fandom and I'm glad I am now. I knew lots of history, but didn't properly apply it to how we can see things now. It's very odd, almost embarrassing, looking at some of my old Swiftie posts now, especially ones about Joe and Gaylors, because I don't feel that way anymore. I was never hateful, but I had some wrong ideas. I guess I'll keep them up though, in order to be honest with myself and anyone who wants to maybe dig into my blog. Plus there's not actually anything to be too embarrassed about from what I remember, it's just a very "in my head" type of thing. I'm glad I'm not as emotionally invested in Taylor's supposed exes anymore. Even when it comes to Karlie as an LSK, I'd be fine if Kaylor was broken up or never together. Surprised and maybe a little sad, but I expect to be okay if that were to be a revelation. It feels much healthier.

I even suspect that being here has helped me with accepting my own queerness further, and I thought I had fully done that already. I guess internal acceptance is a forever journey, at least for me. I came out to my grandparents mid last year and early this year, something I was planning on delaying till I went away to college (I'm doing college virtually for now). I think this community helped me.

I deeply wish that both sides of Taylor's fandom could come together, hear each other, and co-exist. I hate that Gaylors are so vilified for simply suggesting a random lady might be queer as if seeing potential hints of queerness in other people and pondering their sexuality hasn't always existed in queer culture and continues to prevail. We still see primarily femme sapphics ask how they can signal that they're queer without saying so, much like what Taylor might be doing with her hairpins and games. Why is it wrong to be on the other end of that interaction, seeing and acknowledging the signals? In my personal opinion, I think it's at least a bit homophobic in and of itself to say that queer people must come out in a loud, upfront, obvious-to-straights way in order to be seen as queer, otherwise they are forcibly slated as the default of straight. Yes, some people have a boundary about speculation, and that should 100% be respected for those folks, but Taylor specifically has set no such boundary as of me typing this out. Why still force her into the straight box when she's never plainly said she's straight, always toeing the line no pun intended, not giving any clear answers for now, which she doesn't owe. Honestly, I feel like it's more likely that if she were straight she would have such an issue saying plainly; straight people don't coyly tiptoe around saying they're straight like that, but that's just my perspective. When the discourse around speculation is brought up, I often see people say something along the lines of, "Well, I wouldn't want someone to speculate on me," and that's completely fine to feel, but that's your boundary. Not everyone feels that way. Some want to be seen without a definitive word out of their mouth beforehand. This is coming from someone who, when offline, sometimes gets a bit internally antsy when people inform me they could tell my lesbian-ness with or without me intending to signal, though not offended. Yet I also sometimes hate to tell people in verbal words. It can be exhausting, not in just a scary way, but in the sense that it can be akin to explaining that you breathe; being queer just comes so naturally for me because it is natural, so explaining gets tiresome, especially since straights never have to. For me, and in general, speculation is not as black and white as "you should never do it" or "you should always do it". You shouldn't cross people's boundaries, but you shouldn't assume people's boundaries either; that can be just as wrong and dangerous.

Gaylors and Swifties are the same fandom, so why can't we act like it, even when we disagree?

Everyone and everything I've involved myself in here has been so enriching and even if all the Gaylor theories were somehow proven wrong, I wouldn't regret my time here. It's meant too much to me. I'm very grateful and excited to see how this progresses for me. I can't find enough words to express it.

To any rude Hetlors out there, I hope you find it in your heart to treat others with kindness instead of throwing shade at those you simply don't understand/agree with. If you're going to hurt others, I don't want anything to do with you. Kindly leave for both our peace of mind.

To the vast majority of you who have been wonderful, welcoming, and kind, especially the ones who were here before I entered the Gaylor fandom, and didn't leave after, I love you all. You can stay. ♥

🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜

#gaylor #gaylors #gaylor swift #lgbetty #friends of dorothea #friend of dorothea #swiftgron #dianna agron #taymily #toë #houghlor #tayliz #kaylor #late stage kaylor #lsk

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antitheticalmidnights · 3 months ago

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Swiftly Speaking: A Deep Dive Into Taylor’s Lyrics - "Fortnight"

Hello, and welcome to another review in the Swiftly Speaking series! Today, as promised, I'm going to dive into the deep lyrics of "Fortnight". Before I start, I'd like to point out that my intention is to analyze all the lyrics from TTPD. However, I also had want to take a few steps back and simultaneously explore the lyrics of folklore and evermore, the sister albums. Although it was released a few years ago and is already a finished project, I've been very immersed in the universe of folklore and evermore lately. I feel there is so much to be explored. But that's a conversation for another time.

Without further ado, let's get to it!

"Fortnight" (feat. Post Malone)

Oxford Languages Dictionary definition of fatalism fa·tal·ism noun: fatalism the belief that all events are predetermined and therefore inevitable.

"Fortnight is a song that I think really exhibits a lot of the common themes that run throughout this album. One of which being – fatalism. Longing, pining away, lost dreams. You know, I think that it’s a very fatalistic album in that there are lots of very dramatic lines about life or death and “I love you, it’s ruining my life” like these are very hyperbolic, dramatic things to say. But, it’s that kind of album. It’s about a – you know – dramatic, artistic, tragic kind of take on love and loss. And “Fortnight,” I’ve always imagined that it took place in this like, American town where, the American Dream you thought would happen [to you] didn’t. Like – you ended up not with the person that you loved, and now you have to just live with that every day. Wondering what would’ve been, maybe seeing them out… and that’s a pretty tragic concept, really. So I was just writing from that perspective."

— Taylor Swift via iHeartRadio album premiere

I want to remind you of the reference we made in "Hits Different", where Taylor sings: "I heard your key turn in the door down the hallway. Is that your key in the door? Is it okay? Is it you? Or have they come to take me away?". I find it interesting how she chose to open "Fortnight" with a similar narrative and atmosphere to Hits Different. Of course, if we take the idea of drunkenness and all that theatrical imagery of HD literally, it wouldn't fit in with "Fortnight", because even though the song starts with:

"I was supposed to be sent away But they forgot to come and get me I was a functioning alcoholic till nobody Noticed my new aesthetic"

Here we're talking about a different, more recent time, when Taylor had already left London and was back in the US. She is revisiting what has already happened.

It seems that Taylor plays with the idea that her move to London was something she chose to do in a situation of exteme necessity, not because she really wanted to go by her own desire. We know that she went there to get away from the hostile and inquisitorial atmosphere in which she was living around 2017 - and, of course, to live with her loved one. The opportunity came along at just the right time.

She says she feels forgotten, as if she'd been sent away but no one remembered to bring her back. This is a bit controversial, given her success with Lover, folklore and evermore, and later Midnights. We can look at this from an artistic and personal perspective. "Do people still miss me? Here, doing things in America, touring and stuff?"

The life and routine that we were previously unaware of and which, until then, seemed to be going well, is soon shattered when she reveals that she has become an alcoholic.

In matter of fact, the term "functioning alcoholic" is recognized by the medical community as a real problem. According to the Cambridge Dictionary, its literal meaning is someone who can behave, work, and live in a way that seems normal despite being addicted to (= unable to stop using too much of) alcohol, drugs, etc. In this sense, Taylor may indeed be talking about alcohol itself, but also something metaphorically like a narcotic to ease the daily pain. It could be a person, perhaps? I think it's delicate to approach this topic and infer something about Taylor's personal life. But she chose to put it in the first part of the album, so something she wants to tell us. And imo, she wants to tell that her body is working, doing things; she is writing, creating, but her head is elsewhere - in lunar valleys and secret gardens in her mind.

I think it's great that the song starts like this. It's an introduction to what she wants to show us. As if to say: "Hey, it seems like I've been out of the American spotlight for a while, but here I am, vulnerable, extremely resentful and sad, but with a new me ready to share what these last two years have been about."

"All of this to say: I hope you're okay But you're the reason And no one here's to blame But what about your quiet treason?”

All this that she presents, we realize, is not just for us, but for a specific interlocutor too. Once again, she points the finger and says that this person is the reason. And no one was there to see or follow what really happened. It was a quiet, silence treason. But what happened is big, but SO big, that you don't need an audience to judge. This mistake is big enough for the person to feel guilty alone.

“And for a fortnight, there we were, forever Run into you sometimes, ask about the weather Now, you're in my backyard, turned into good neighbors Your wife waters flowers, I wanna kill her”

I particularly find this chorus one of the most emblematic of Taylor's career, although it's not that difficult to break it down.

First of all, we should consider that fortnight is a term used more commonly in the UK than in the US. So, we know that there is still reference to that country that she left. Fortnight literally means 14 days. That's a relatively short time if you think about it. So we can think that she is definitely talking about a love affair.

As a Taylor fan, I know that she watches a lot of movies and series and draws a lot of inspiration from culture in general when writing her songs. The context and story told in "Fortnight" drew my attention particularly to a specific series called "Love And Death", starring Elizabeth Olsen (who is known to be a big Taylor fan).

"Love and Death" is a crime drama series that delves into the shocking true story of Candy Montgomery, a Texas housewife who became the prime suspect in the brutal 1980 murder of her friend, Betty Gore.

(Note: Taylor actually mentioned that she imagines this story taking place in an American town.)

The series explores the seemingly idyllic suburban lives of Candy and Betty, who are active members of the same church community. However, beneath the surface, tensions brew as Candy embarks on a secret affair with Betty's husband, Allan Gore. The affair begins innocently enough, with Candy and Allan feeling unfulfilled in their respective marriages. They agree to keep their relationship purely physical, carefully planning their secret rendezvous. But as time passes, the emotional complexities of the affair begin to unravel their lives. Candy becomes increasingly obsessed with Allan, while Allan struggles with guilt and the growing strain on his marriage to Betty. The affair eventually comes to light, and on the morning of June 13, 1980, Betty confronts Candy about the affair in her home, leading to a violent death. Candy kills Betty.

Taylor later revealed what inspired "Fortnight" saying "I think that it's a very fatalistic album in that there are lots of very dramatic lines about LIFE OR DEATH." Boom! Almost the name of the series that has a story extremely similar to the theme explored in the song.

Putting that possible reference aside, we can now really see that the lyrical self puts herself in the position of a traitor. She sees her neighbor - someone close to her, but not so close as to be intimate - in a different way. She envies the wife of the character in the story, and also shows a desire to kill her. In fact, there is a "stable" relationship in which the character finds herself; she wants this distant person, but she can't because there is a lack of morality involved in the betrayal.

“All my mornings are Mondays Stuck in an endless February I took the miracle move-on drug The effects were temporary”

Here we can identify an almost immediate link with "Paper Rings": "I want your dreary Mondays". She wasn't just showing that she accepted him as he was, that she would embrace the whole package. She WANTED him, even in the bluest days. But now, it's all consumed her so much that her mornings are stuck on those Mondays. As if every day were dreary.

"Endless february" may have been a reference to the movie "Groundhod Dog", starring the brilliant Bill Murray. The plot is basically that the character is an arrogant weatherman for a television channel, who gets trapped in a kind of time tunnel, condemned to relive the same day indefinitely until he changes his attitudes. That day would be February 2nd. So every day repeats itself over and over again, in an endless february.

Moreover, we can also consider that February is a month often seen as rather depressing for Americans, despite the Valentine's Day holiday (and also, the 21st is J's birthday). The weather is still cold, and the lingering sense of the holiday season remains —January used to be enchanting, after all, Christmas lights were still up, as that was their place, and they made the rules. And although it's the shortest month of the year, it can feel like the longest for those nursing a broken heart.

The idea of the narcotic that anesthetizes the lyrical self's pain is brought up again here. And we can think that the miracle drug is this other person she fantasizes about. She took this drug to ease the pain of her current relationship. The effects, however, were temporary.

And I love you, it's ruining my life (I love you, it's ruining my life) I touched you for only a fortnight (I touched you), but I touched you

And then comes the hyperbolic and dramatic line that Taylor herself emphasized in her interview. She intentionally wanted to make it dramatic, based on the premise that the album is fatalistic. It's about long pining away, tragic artistic drama. Hence, the striking antithesis.

What’s most interesting is the exchange of verses with Post Malone, where he guides as the second person. She states that she touched him, he also claims that he touched her, and she reinforces with a "BUT" that she did, indeed, touch him. It's as if the action originated from her from the very beginning.

“And for a fortnight, there we were, forever Run into you sometimes, ask about the weather Now, you're in my backyard, turned into good neighbors Your wife waters flowers, I wanna hill her And for a fortnight, there we were together Run into you sometimes, comment on my sweater Now, you're at the mailbox, turned into good neighbors My husband is cheating, I wanna kill him”

Here she repeats the first chorus and adds the second, cleverly changing a few words. Notice that "forever" has been changed to "together". There is no more forever between this couple. Before, the neighbor was in his "backyard", now he's closer to her "mailbox".

And finally, she ends with the fatalistic line that she's a traitor for only thinking about it, but the partner she's with it's not just thinking, he's really cheating on her and she wants to kill him too.

If there is a moral, it is that no one is literally right. These two love elements have their contradictions, their fantasies, their own thoughts, and an obvious indication that things are not going well.

“Thought of calling ya, but you won't pick up ‘Nother fortnight lost in America Move to Florida, buy the car you want But it won't start up till you touch, touch, touch me Thought of calling ya, but you won't pick up ‘Nother fortnight lost in America Move to Florida, buy the car you want But it won't start up till I touch, touch, touch you”

Then comes the ending. I want to emphasize here that America in the concept of the whole album seems to be a place of relief, of refuge, of freedom. And Florida, especially this state, Taylor mentions is a place where fugitives seek refuge, a land where no one knows anyone, a place of new beginnings. Cars, on this way, are used by Taylor as objects of escape too. "Getaway Car" is a great example, literally recounting the escape from a relationship. Not just in this song, but in passages like "I was riding in the car when we both fell" x "It's 2 AM in your car, windows down, you pass my street, the memories start" x "Remember when I pulled up and said, "Get in the car""

Buying the car you want is a metaphor for a person. Like, "find the love of your life and go, go to a place where there is freedom, where you can love each other."

However, this won't happen until it's off the page and into the real world. In the end, we realize that all this is going on in the lyrical self's head. The whole story that she touched him first, that she set the ball rolling, is a plot that she imagines as well as in "Guilty As Sin?", maybe.

The song is perfect to open the album, as it touches on all the themes she will eventually deal with throughout TTPD. Suffering, forbidden dreams, fantasy, separation, the pain of lost love, love and death.

Although this is a review specifically of the song itself. I'd like to point out that it's the only TTPD single to have a music video. The cinematography is absurdly beautiful and impeccable. Taylor chose to use elements that could reproduce a mental health treatment facility, as well as a department of tortured poets. It features Post Malone, and I think Taylor really wanted to summed up the concept of the era precisely as we see on behind the scenes how perfectionist she is about the acting and the whole concept. The asylum in this MV talks to Fortnight, bringing this somewhat schizophrenic illusion of an invention of reality. There are old-fashioned shock treatments being used on her, as if she were being considered a patient. The environment in which she and Post play is dark, stuffy and damp. Is this a possible reference to London?

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

I hope you enjoyed this analysis. It was extremely long, but I think I managed to capture the whole idea that this rich song brings to us.

See you next time!

- L.

#taylor swift #taylornation #fortnight #song analysis #ttpd #post malone #life and death #london #the tortured poetrs department #poetry

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