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maybege · 1 month

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What If - Part One

Summary: Tensions between the clans are high so to ease the reclaiming of Mandalore, an old tradition is reintroduced.

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

Wordcount: 6.0k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), finger sucking, oral fixation maybe, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk and loving verbal humiliation, exhibitionism (lite)

Here we are! Last year, April did not go so well for our favourite Big Blue so I decided the only way I can get over it is by rewriting That Episode in a way that I find acceptable. Naturally, that also meant adding A/B/O dynamics.

Joke aside: I love love love my Calmer AU and I love love love it even more if we can pair it with a fix it AU so this is what that is. However, I won’t be super stringent with adhering to the rest of the canon either. Both because I am here for the vibes only atm and also because I still haven’t seen the S3 finale so I have no idea how it actually ends. lol

Anyway, I would be very happy to hear what you think in a comment or a reblog, those really do give me life.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“This is a joke, right? This has to be a joke.”

You watched as Axe Woves, captain of the privateers and the most insufferable alpha you had ever met, looked at Bo-Katan as if she had lost her mind. And to be fair you could not really blame him. When her suggestion had first been made public knowledge, everyone had thought she had lost her mind.

Well, almost everyone.

“You want to reinstall an ancient rule just because these primitives cannot control their emotions?”

“It is not only about them controlling their emotions,” Bo-Katan pointedly interjected, her arms crossed in front of her chest. You had heard a lot about her but the actual experience of seeing her and hearing her speak was … underwhelming. “It is about bringing the tribes closer together.”

The alpha scoffed, clearly unimpressed and you scrunched your nose, not really liking the scent he emitted. As an omega, you were used to having strong-scented alphas all around you but there was a difference between a casual run-in and standing in a small room with the alpha leaders of opposing tribes. The difference being that under any other circumstances, you would have been able to escape the stench of this arrogant alpha.

Now, though, you were stuck between what felt like a rock and a hard place.

“It might be ancient for you but it is not for us,” The Armourer said calmly.

Your eyes flitted to the alpha leader of the clan that you had only gotten to know as a “cult”. She had a very demanding presence, one that almost rivalled that of Briggs. Which you knew he noticed by the way he shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

“What do you think?” Sluice asked you. Briggs was standing next to her, looking as stoic as ever and you knew it had to be serious when they rested their decisions on you. Not that they never asked you for your opinion, you were a respected member of the council, after all, but it was your first term as the voted omega representative and you had relied on their guidance a lot when it came to decision-making – especially on this scale. But now it seemed they were relying on yours.

You looked back at your fellow council member and friend, Chants, who gave you a slight nod.

“I think I would do anything to get us peace,” you said, finally, highly aware that next to your friend you were the only omega in the room and the person who everybody’s eyes rested on, “And the ancient rules lasted for centuries for a reason. They worked then and I cannot think of anything why they would not work now.”

“Maybe because they will use any chance they get to exploit the innocent omegas of other clans.”

You frowned, not liking any of Axe’s implications. Were omegas of Djarin’s tribe not innocent? Did he think you were incapable of defending yourself?

You were about to think of a retort when another alpha across the room stood up from his seat. He was clearly from Djarin’s clan as he was wearing a helmet and smelled so offended, you had to fight the urge not to snap at Woves himself. What startled you most, however, was how big that man was. You had thought him to be standing already with how tall he was and he was even taller when he actually stood up, his figure demanding a lot of space and everybody’s attention.

“I am not sure how you were raised but where I come from we respect our omegas,” he thundered, his voice deep and cracking through the beskar barrier, “And especially our calmers.”

Axe Woves looked as if he was biting his tongue not to say anything and you had to suppress your smile when you saw the strict look on Bo-Katan’s face. She was obviously trying her best to keep everyone in line.

“It is decided, then,” The Armourer announced, “We will collect the names of those willing to be calmers and distribute them amongst our tribes. This is the way.”

It did not come as a surprise that the desire to be a calmer in these times was … almost non-existent. You knew Sluice and Briggs did their best to present a united front but it was hard to convince omegas across all clans of something by having their highest-ranking alphas making decisions for them.

Still, given the circumstances, you were glad to find that a decent number of omegas seemed to be at least willing to hear you out.

You and Chants had been the first ones to volunteer, figuring that if you, as omega representatives of the council, chose to volunteer, it might assure other omegas who were still on the fence. And it had a surprisingly positive effect because, from all clans, omegas signed up. And the more omegas signed up, the more they seemed to encourage other omegas to sign up as well.

Soon, the sun had settled over Nevarro and a few fires had been made by which the Mandalorians of all clans huddled together. Crates and ship pieces had been pulled to create some circle-like shapes and make-shift benches and once the foundlings had all been sent to bed, the announcement began.

One after the other, names were drawn, pairing an omega with an alpha. You watched friends, acquaintances and strangers make their way to the centre when their names were called, before walking away together.

When you heard your name called, it was like you were in the clouds. Far away from everything and everyone. Maybe you could still say no, maybe you could just go and disappear forever. What if you were paired with someone horrid? Would people be angry if you decided to leave even though you were the first to volunteer? What if you weren’t good at the whole claiming thing at all and your failure resulted in a war that was to last centuries?

“ … Paz Vizsla.”

The giant of a man stood up and your heart stopped. That was the man from the council meeting, the one who had spoken against Woves. The one whose head had almost touched the ceiling and who was wearing a blaster on his thigh even now. There was nothing on his body that looked as if it could not be used as a weapon. If this was how he was in his home, how hostile was he in places he did not know?

Your heart raced in your chest as you walked towards him, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at you. You felt sick to your stomach and your breathing had to be abnormally loud. What if everyone could hear how nervous you were? How panicked? What if that was reason enough for other volunteers to change their mind and then it was all for nothing?

When your hands touched, his proximity pulled you back down to Nevarro.

You followed him wordlessly to the back of the group, passing a few couples that already seemed to get acquainted. You tried not to look at them, the same way you tried not to look at him for fear that his giant stature would terrify you into leaving.

Paz Vizsla was a warrior through and through and it showed in the way he was sitting too. He took up almost all the space on the little bench and even when he was sitting down and you were standing up, he seemed so much bigger than you.

“Hello,” he said and you were taken aback by how gentle he sounded. He did not look gentle. He looked dangerous. He looked like he could snap you in half. He –

“Hello,” you replied shyly.

He tilted his head and you reminded yourself to look into his visor and not take in his very large presence. Was he as large underneath the plates of armour? What was that colour all about? Did it mean anything?

His hand tugged on yours and it took you a moment to realize he wanted you sit to on his lap.

Careful not to come too close, you perched yourself on his knees even though it resulted in his knee pads digging into your thighs uncomfortably. Ironic, considering you were about to get to know this man in the most intimate ways.

“I don’t bite, you know?” he sounded surprisingly amused, his legs spreading under yours and you squeaked, throwing your arms around his neck to keep your balance.

“I suppose the helmet would make that very hard,” you replied, not thinking about how you wanted to keep this alpha happy and not risk antagonizing him.

But to your surprise, the alpha warrior roared with laughter, sounding nothing like the stern and dangerous man you had imagined. You smiled a little, loosening your grip around his shoulder and allowing yourself to truly rest your weight on him.

“What is your name?” he asked, his big hand running over your back before coming to rest on your lower back. The heat of his touch did not feel unpleasant and you took a deep breath.

“What is it to you?” you asked right back, keeping your tone even as you kept your eyes on the front of the fire where the announcements continued to pair up calmers and alphas.

“Do you not think I should know the name of the omega I am about to make very happy?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his flat joke but the corners of your mouth tugged up nonetheless. “Aren’t you going to call me omega all the time anyway?”

“Yes, but as an endearment,” he stated, his helmet resting next to your cheek, “Not because I won't know your name.”

That was weirdly touching.

You told him your name, then, and your body shivered as he repeated it in a deep voice.

“I gather you have more experience in this than I do,” you shifted, “What, uh, how … how do we proceed?”

“However we want to,” he replied as if that was not easier said than done, “There are a few things I need to know first, though. Are you here out of your own free will?”

“Of course, I am,” you protested, “I was the one to agree to this whole scheme if you recall, why would I not be here of my own free will?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you,” his voice was calm and his second hand brushed over your arm up to your neck where you could feel your pulse race, “And because you smelled … hesitant.”

“You can smell me with that helmet on?”

“You would be surprised at the things I can do with that helmet on.”

You raised your eyebrows, feeling your cheeks heat up at the innuendo. This man was nothing like you had imagined at all. He seemed ... funny, oddly enough. And kind in a way you had not expected. And gentle, too, with the way his hold on your body was strong and supportive but certainly loose enough that you could leave any time you wanted to.

“Are you wet?”

“Uh, what?”

His voice dropped an octave and his gloved hand brushed over your neck, barely brushing your scent gland. “Are you wet, omega?” he repeated his question, “Does your body react to my scent? To my voice? To my touch? Do you like the idea of being close to me?”

“Maybe a little bit,” you admitted, shifting your legs and trying to ignore the low pulsing in your core. How could a voice be so enticing in a man?

“Good,” he grunted, “Open your mouth.”

You did, opening your mouth for him and feeling your heart skip three beats at once. He pulled off his gloves, revealing thick, weathered hands and fingers. There were inked designs on them, tattoos whose meanings you did not know but you wanted to. You wanted to ask him and listen to his stories while putting your nose on his neck, just close enough to the edge of his helmet so you could smell him. And scent him, maybe, if he would let you.

Shocked at your own daydreams, you tried to focus instead on what you could see and not the images your brain came up with. Every one of his fingers had at least one tattooed knuckle but his ring and middle finger had the most designs on them, some of the lines already a little washed out from age. Much like the rest of his body, his hands and fingers were big and thick. And despite your best intentions, your mind instantly wandered to what it would feel like to have them on your body.

“Wider,” he instructed you, his hand flexing, and you glanced around, wanting to make sure that no one else was watching. But you were his calmer and you wanted to calm him. Even if it meant other people saw you in a more vulnerable position than you would prefer.

Not to mention that the way he rumbled out instructions as if you were the best thing in the whole wide galaxy made the wetness between your thighs spread.

Something in his voice made you want to please him and so you pushed out your tongue, just the tiniest bit but it seemed to be enough. “Stars,” he hummed, thick fingers settling on your tongue and pushing down, “I think we are going to have a lot of fun, aren’t we, omega?”

It was instinct to suck on his fingers, coating them in your saliva and you closed your eyes, trying to think one thought at a time. Like how big they were in your mouth and how heavy. How he did not move them at all, before gently pushing down on your tongue. You followed his silent order and opened your mouth again, your eyes fluttering open when you heard the rumble in his chest.

You could not see his eyes through the visor but you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and intense. He did not say anything when he pulled his two fingers away. Your eyes followed the movement, spotting the wet trail that connected them to your bottom lip, still, and found yourself wishing for them back in your mouth.

What had this man done to you?

He put three fingers together, then. His ring, middle and pointer fingers landed on your tongue before pushing inside, deeper than before. You took a deep breath through your nose, feeling the touch tickle at the back of your throat and you swallowed around the digits, trying not to gag.

The alpha hummed, his legs moving and thus jostling you in his lap. He pulled his fingers away again and you whined, your mouth following him as if you could pull his fingers back by the power of sheer will alone.

Heat collected in your cheeks and between your thighs at the realization that you liked this. You liked him in charge.

You looked around nervously, trying to gauge if anyone had seen this moment of weakness. And it seemed that no one had, except for the alpha that had put you in this position in the first place. “No one is watching us,” he assured you, pushing his fingers back in your mouth, “No one is looking at you, omega. Wanna know how I know?”

Relaxing your throat so he could get his fingers deeper, seemed to be answer enough.

He tilted his head, a pleased hum leaving him when you swirled your tongue around his fingers. “Because everybody knows I don’t share my omega, and that includes seeing how beautiful you look drooling on my fingers like it is my cock.”

His fingers were pulled from your mouth again, only to be pushed back in and you realised what he was doing. “Open your mouth for me again, sweetheart,” he said, “Let me see how good you take my fingers.” Like they are my cock.

It remained unsaid but the thought that he was … fucking your throat with his fingers made you wetter than you would have admitted. But you opened your mouth for him nonetheless, letting him see how his fingers glided over your tongue, playing with it before pulling out, dragging over your bottom lip and leaving a drooly mess behind.

“Thank the stars it was you,” he whispered, running his wet fingers over your lips, “I hoped it would be you.”

His words caused something in you to stir. Confusion, mostly, but also a feeling of flattery that he seemed to have noticed you before. That it wasn’t just duty for him. That, maybe, it wasn’t just duty for you. Not when he caused your blood to stir like that with just his fingers in your mouth.

“Can you open your dress for me and still be comfortable, omega?” he asked, his voice almost drowned out by the crackling of the fire, “I want to claim you once out in the open. So everyone can see what a good calmer you are.”

“What if I’m not though?” you heard yourself ask. Your voice sounded way too small to your liking, not at all teasing and flirting like you wanted to but insecure and a little hoarse from where he had been using your throat.

“I know you are,” the alpha replied steadily, his thumb pressing into your bottom lip, “I know it from the way you try to be so good to me. Know it from the way you don’t recoil from me. Do you have any idea how long it has been since I smelled someone as beautiful as you?”

Beautiful, his voice echoed in your head and you looked at him with wide eyes, the desire to touch him growing stronger.

“To be honest,” he murmured, his fingers running over your cleavage, playing with the top button of your dress, “I don’t think I ever smelled an omega that I wanted to claim as much as you.”

“Then you haven’t met many omegas,” you replied, trying to ignore your trembling hands as you undid your dress. The fabric fell open on your middle and you could see the way his chest moved a little heavier.

“Stand up,” he instructed you, meddling with a little pouch on his thigh. Your eyes fell to the where his legs had shuffled apart even more. He was not wearing a codpiece, you noticed, and the bulge in his pants was huge. Or, when it came to him, proportional.

At the thought of him putting that … thing inside you, you squeezed your thighs together. You had never been with an alpha before, and certainly not an aloha of that kind of size. Not even your toys to help you through your heats were this big.

“What is that?” you asked, watching as he pulled a little tube out of his pocket.

“Lube,” he explained, holding the little bottle up, “I am big and I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your entire body tingled with desire and you shuffled your legs again. The cool evening breeze reminded you of your state of undress and you glanced around nervously.

“No one is watching,” he reminded you. “Now,” he put the bottle down next to him, petting his thighs, “Up you go.”

Your dress fell open and just like that, you were completely bare to him. It did not make you as nervous as you had thought it would. Knowing this strange man was looking at you, touching you, did not fill you with a sense of dread. Because he did not feel like a stranger. He felt … familiar.

The way Paz Vizsla was touching you only made your entire body thrum with pleasure, like he knew exactly just where you were most sensitive.

His bare fingers brushed over your chin, down your neck, between your breasts down your middle until they just barely grazed your folds. You rocked your hips, just the slightest bit, to get him closer but the alpha pulled his fingers away.

Then he repeated the motion, touching you but avoiding the places where you wanted – needed – him most.

Your mouth fell open, your tongue slipping out in a moment of weakness. But as soon as you noticed what you were doing, you closed it again, hoping he had not seen it. But of course, he had.

The warrior chuckled. “You want my fingers back in your mouth, don’t you?”

You swallowed, your eyes flicking to the tree line behind him in the hopes that he could not see the embarrassment so clearly written on your face.

“This is not the time to be shy,” he reminded you, his fingers tipping your chin up. You knew he was looking at you, could feel the weight of his gaze on you. And you also knew that he knew the answer already. There was no denying it. So, you nodded.

“Good girl,” he praised you, “Open your mouth for me again.”

Pushing out your tongue as he pushed his fingers back in your mouth, you allowed yourself to really enjoy it this time. Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked on them and it did not take long before you wrapped your arms around his neck in an effort to get closer to him. With you straddling him – and wearing barely anything – the cool night air made you feel cold and exposed.

Until his other hand was on your pussy again.

When his fingers brushed over your clit, gathering the wetness between your folds, your entire body tensed. His fingers felt thick and calloused, a stark contrast to what your own fingers felt like and you breathed through the initial stretch of having two of them pushed inside you. Your toes tingled with pleasure as he edged them deeper and deeper, his movements slow and controlled until you felt like you were blinded by pleasure.

He crooked his digits inside you, rubbing over a spot you could only reach on the rare occasion that you took a lot of time for yourself.

Now though, it seemed like it was effortless for him.

“Paz,” you mumbled around his digits, your voice muffled.

“Deep breaths,” he instructed, “Open up for me, sweetheart, let me in that pussy.”

Surprisingly enough, his words got you to relax and you sucked on his fingers again. Focussing on the weight and the feel of them on your tongue like he was not fingering you surrounded by dozens of people. No one is looking at me, you remembered his words and they felt safe. They felt true.

He kept moving his fingers, working you until three thick digits were stretching you further than you had ever been stretched before. Your walls were already fluttering around him and you could feel the wetness seeping down his hand.

“You're ready,” he stated, pulling his fingers from your pussy and your mouth. You were not sure which loss you mourned more.

You looked down between you, observing as he opened his pants, freeing his cock to your eyes. He was big, that was no surprise. But it was a surprise how thick he was. His shaft bobbed between you, the weight of it almost dropping him down.

How is that supposed to fit inside me? you wanted to ask How am I supposed to take this?

His hand wrapped around himself, pumping his shaft a few times and before you knew what you were doing, you reached out, your fingertips brushing over the head of him. He felt hot and soft. Paz groaned, the sound beautiful in your ears, and his hand reached for yours, helping your hand wrap around him.

Your fingers barely met around him and you let him guide your hand up and down his shaft, letting him direct the strength of your grip. “Stars, that feels good,” he murmured, moving so his cock bumped against your folds, running it through them again and again until it met your clit. You jerked at the touch, your pussy clenching.

Deciding to take matters into your own hands – literally – you continued to hold his cock, rubbing your thumb just under his head before grinding on top of him. The touch of him against your wetness was everything you needed as you started to rub yourself against him. Your breath came faster and you could feel how dripping wet and needy you were for him.

And Paz felt it too.

He seemed completely at ease and if it were not for his rock-hard erection between you, you would have wondered if he had been affected by you at all. But when you whimpered once again as his head rubbed over your clit, you could see his hand reaching for the little bottle of lube, squirting a generous amount of fluid on his fingers before reaching between you and spreading it on himself.

“You ready, omega?” he asked you and you could not nod quickly enough.

With a racing heart and a dripping pussy, you lifted yourself up to your knees, the wood of the bench digging into your joints. But you could not care less as your pebbled nipples pressed against the cold beskar of his armour and he leant back, allowing you to rest your weight onto him.

This position gave you almost all the control and you appreciated it. You appreciated it even more when his warm hand slipped under the dress covering your back, landing just above your butt.

“Go on,” he encouraged you, holding his shaft for you, his tip breaching your entrance as you first started lowering yourself into him.

“Oh shit,” you gasped, sinking down on him a little more, “A-alpha, you’re – you're –“

“Big, I know,” he teased you, his fingers digging into your back, “But you can take me, sweet omega, I know you can.”

And you did.

It took minuscule thrusts and encouraging hums paired with his thumb drawing circles into your skin but when you felt his thigh plates under your legs, you were fuller than ever before. Not even the toys you had to keep you company through your heat filled you like this.

And yet here you were, seated on the biggest cock you had ever taken, facing a faceless alpha whose hands had shifted to your hips, his fingers brushing circles into your skin as if he was just as in awe of what was happening as you were.

“There we fucking go,” he praised you, his voice gentle even through the helmet, “Look at you, taking such a big cock almost all the way.”

The glow of the fire was warm against your back. You felt tense and full, your body constantly trying to adjust to his size. With how your legs were spread around him, you felt like you were barely holding on and you did not know how you could possibly take him to the base.

Which was exactly what you said.

But Paz only chuckled, the sound warm and you sighed when one of his hands drifted up to your neck, brushing over your scent gland. Your back bowed in pleasure and you took a deep breath in, tilting your head so your nose could run over his wrist. His scent was spicy and comforting and you breathed in deeply, feeling your thighs relax.

The alpha beneath you made a soothing noise, his thumb brushing over your scent gland again, just enough to have you clenching on his cock.

“Relax, omega,” he whispered, his helmet tilting forward, “Relax for me.”

“Easier said than done,” you murmured, tightening your arms around him, “I’ve – stars, I’ve never felt so full.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” he rumbled and you snorted out a laugh. You could smell how pleased he was with himself for the joke and you leaned forward, burying your head in his neck and in his scent.

“I bet I can make you take it all the way,” he said, his hand on your back pushing you just a little bit closer.

“Feeling cocky, huh?” your joke ended in a hiss as you wiggled your hips, his cock shifting inside you.

“One could say that,” he rumbled, jerking his hips as if to prove his point, “So what do you say? Wanna take the bet?”

“What do I get if I win?”

“You get to come.”

“And if you win?”

“I get to make you come.”

“Seems like a win-win,” you gasped, trying your hardest to lift yourself up. Your legs were straining with the effort and despite how wet you were, he was big inside you and any movement felt like it would end you in the best way.

Paz put his hand between you, his fingertips gently circling your clit. Another hiss left your lips and you could feel your walls clamping around him. Or trying to clamp around him. He was so big it felt like all you could do was simply sit there and take whatever he gave you.

Another shift, You could feel his legs move beneath you and you squeaked in surprise when he spread them further apart, your weight suddenly no longer supported by his legs. You tightened your grip around his neck shifting just that much lower on his shaft that had your walls pulsing.

His big hands gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, helping you stay up. It took you a second to realize that he wanted you to relax like this, that he wanted to help carry your weight like this, and you frowned.

“Trust me,” he murmured as if he could read your mind, “Let me lead, omega, I promise it will feel good.”

Before you could protest, he started to move you, lifting you up until only the tip of him remained in you. Your fingers dug into his until you could feel the blood leaving your knuckles. But Paz did not let you fall. Instead, he slowly sank you down again, just a little bit, before lifting you up again.

You gasped out a breath, his slow and shallow thrusts opening you up for more. Soon, the first few inches did not feel like they could ever be enough and when you wriggled your hips in his grip he let you sink lower until you felt like there was nowhere left to go.

“See?” he whispered, grinding you down on his cock, your clit rubbing against him, “This is how you relax, omega, all you needed was a little help to take my cock all the way.”

“Alpha,” you whimpered, trying to get him to move, “Please – please –“

“You know what I think?” he asked you his voice cool as ever as he moved you on his cock, “I think you don’t even want to win the bet,” he revealed, the coolness of the beskar against your cheek, “I think all you want is to come on my fat cock and get all cock drunk on me.”

“I have,” you gasped, your body opening up for him even more, “I have never been cock drunk.”

“First time for everything,” he teased, his hands gripping the back of your thighs even tighter, “Now rub your pretty clit for me,” he instructed, “Let me work you on my cock and you get to come all over me, hm?”

It was not difficult to get your fingers on your pussy, working yourself into a frenzy that was only helped by the way he lifted you up and down on his cock like it was no work at all. You felt like a toy almost, in his hands, letting him move you this and that way so that his cock hit a spot inside you that made you see stars.

The squelching noises told you how wet you were and they made you even wetter still. It had never been like this for you, giving up the control of your pleasure and yet you did not want it to change. On the contrary, you wanted to revel in it.

You wanted to see how big he was inside you, wanted to see how he split you open, how small you were against him, how his knot would swell against you. The images made you clench around him and the man underneath you let out a grunt, his hips thrusting up against you.

His movement hindered yours and so you decided to relax against him, leaving everything completely up to him except for the fingertips working on yourself.

His thrusts were forceful and your tits bounced with the movement. Your fingers continued to circle your clit and you could feel yourself edging closer and closer to your release.

“Prettiest omega that ever sat on my cock,” he praised you, “I can already tell you were made to calm me. Made to take my cock.”

“Y-Yes,” you nodded eagerly, thinking of how the next days were going to be filled with nothing but taking his cock over and over and over again. Stars, you were lucky.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” he asked, working his, “Are you going to take my cock like a good little calmer? Sit on my knot all day? Take my come when I need you to?”

With your mouth open in a silent moan, you could only nod again. You had never felt like this before, this free and shameless. Like all that mattered was your pleasure and his because you felt like his pleasure would give you more than you had ever imagined.

The images his words caused in you made your walls pulse even more. You could see yourself spending most of your days just like this, full of his cock and breathing in his scent. Or kneeling between his legs, trying to swallow all the he could give you.

It was no surprise that with your fingers on your clit, his fantasies in your ears and his cock in your pussy, you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching. And with the way his fingers tightened on you, he was close too.

“Want me to come inside you or on your face?” he asked, his voice sounding hoarse, “Or I could come on this pretty pussy? Make you play with it?”

“Inside,” you gasped, throwing your head back when his thrusts started to speed up, “Stars, please – please inside me.”

His groan slipped from under his helmet and when he hit a particular spot inside you, your vision went white. You could feel your walls spasm around him as pleasure rippled throughout your entire body. Everything tingled, from your head to your toes, and something shifted, like the world was suddenly … different.

Paz’s hands held you down on him, burying himself as deeply inside you as he could and as you sagged against him, your chest against his beskar chest, you could feel him pulse inside you.

He really was filling you to the brim.

Where before you had hardly been able to focus on what was going on around you, now you were only left with your heartbeat in your ears and the silence between you.

Hone hand swept over your back, up to the back of your neck and you leaned into his touch.

“How was that?” he asked quietly, his fingers once again seeking out that sensitive spot under your ear, “How are you feeling?”

You ran your nose over his scent gland, taking comfort in the smell that was already becoming familiar. The contact made him twitch inside you, again and again, and you swore you felt another spurt of come filling you.

“Tired,” you admitted against the fabric of his undershirt, “Tired and full and great and …” you trailed off, taking in another breath, “Good. I feel good.”

His body shook under yours in a warm chuckle. “I’m glad,” he replied, “Though it sounds like you need a good night’s sleep before the meetings tomorrow.”

“Sleep sounds good,” you mumbled, “Sleep sounds wonderful.”

“Let me get you to your bunk, then, love,” he whispered, gently untangling himself from you. “I will see you in the morning.”

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

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maybege · 11 months

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Big Dick Energy: The Sequel

Summary: An investigation takes you to a mall but it is Aaron Hotchner who takes you to a lingerie boutique.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 4.9k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, dom!Hotch, sub!Reader, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, verbal degradation, (semi)public sex, cream pie, then some unexpected fluff

Rewatching Criminal Minds has reminded me of how much I actually thirst for Aaron Hotchner. Other than that, I have absolutely no excuse for this. Read, enjoy, and pretty please leave a comment and tell me what you thought because the possibilities with this dynamic are endless and I am very excited to share it with you! (Though I will need to think of a better title.)

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Looking for unsubs truly was a task that looked different every single time. Sometimes you had Penelope work her magic until you could pinpoint them, sometimes you were in direct contact due to a kidnapping situation. Other times you felt like you were playing spies on a big playground. Like right now.

The team had determined that the most likely spot for him to strike next was at a mall and with the entire sheriff’s office playing dress up, you were posing as unsuspecting shoppers on a calm Tuesday morning.

Hotch had decided you were all to split up into little groups. Reid and Prentiss had grabbed the bookshop as their assigned spot and you were sure Derek was somewhere. But before you could choose which area of the mall you wanted to call your domain, Hotch had instructed that you join him. Pretending to be a married couple. In a lingerie boutique.

For a moment, you thought you were hallucinating.

But sure enough, a few hours later, you and Hotch were browsing through the aisles of lace and tulle and mesh and the most delicate of undergarments you had ever looked at. And his presence did not make it any easier not to drift off into any daydreams.

You hadn’t really spoken after what happened on the plan and you weren’t sure if you were glad about it or not. It is like it had never happened. But it had happened. Because your jaw was still sore and you could still hear the way his voice dropped when he had hit the back of your throat. Or how gentle his fingers had been when it was all over. How he had taken care of you.

But by the time the plane had landed, he was back to his cool professional self and you were back to your pining, needy pile of infatuation you became when he was around you.

“I don’t think he is going to show up,” Emily’s voice sounded in your earpiece, “He would’ve hit by now. Maybe we should look at other possible targets before we waste too much time here?”

“I am sure pretty boy is holding his tongue about how time in a bookshop can never be wasted time,” Derek teased and you grinned. He was not wrong.

There was a hint of a smile on Hotch’s face and when his eyes met yours he looked much lighter than before. You watched him, waiting for his decision on the matter and he looked so damn calm, returning your gaze with so much ease. As if you did not affect him at all.

Which in turn made it all the more frustrating to feel your body react to him at the slightest stare. Your heartbeat started going faster, your breath heavier and everything felt so much more heightened when he was around.

How hopelessly did you want to crush on your boss? Your body’s answer, apparently, was a resounding: Yes.

But after the airplane incident, you had no more courage left. You had (kind of, if accidentally) initiated the first time with him. Now, you had to calm yourself with the thought that it was up to him to show you if he was interested.

A ringtone brought you out of your thoughts and you flinched. The young woman at the register picked up her cell phone, not even sparing another glance at you before she started off on what sounded like a very detailed retelling of her last weekend.

Hotch cleared his throat and your eyes fell on him, still waiting for his response to Prentiss’s suggestion.

“I agree,” he finally said, standing so close to you that it looked as if he was talking to you and you only, “We should regroup in a bit. I will see everyone at the office in two hours.”

“Sir, are you giving us a break?” not even the subpar sound quality of your earpiece could hide Garcia’s excitement.

“Yes,” he grinned at you, his hand reaching out and hovering over yours. Your breath caught in your heart because how could one man be so handsome? “I am giving you a break.”

The clicks of everyone disconnecting their microphone were only overshadowed by the sound of your heartbeat in your own ears. Hotch’s intense gaze was still on you and you could not shake the feeling that something big was about to happen.

“What’s your size?”

“What?”

“You have been staring at this piece for the better part of an hour,” he stated, “So I think you should try it on. And I think I should see you in it.”

Your mouth gaped open, not expecting such a blatant statement from your boss. Especially not one who was usually so tight-lipped on all things personal. You swallowed harshly, trying to find the right words that did not betray your eagerness but only ended up nodding at him.

You threw a look at the tags of the set he was holding, making an effort not to also stare at how big his hands were and subsequently wonder what his fingers would feel like inside of you.

Hoping he did not notice, you pressed your thighs together in an attempt to take care of the pulsing that was stronger than you would have liked it to be. But the way his gaze dropped let you know he certainly did notice. You swallowed again, “This, uh, this one should fit.”

Hotch nodded once, turning around while holding up the hanger.

“Excuse me, my wife would like to try –“

Before he had finished his sentence (you tried to ignore the strange skip your heart made when he had called you his wife), the cashier motioned somewhere to the back of the shop without even looking at you. Her phone was still pressed to her ear and her face was turned toward the glass front, probably observing the people milling about instead of the (in her mind) boring, business casual-wearing couple that tried to spice up their equally boring sex life.

If only she knew …

You followed the tall man to the little back room where a row of changing rooms was decorated with lush carpet and velvet drapery. If it did not look so plasticky cheap, you might’ve found it luxurious. Much like the showroom of the boutique, the rooms were completely abandoned and so quiet, the blaring mall music seemed even louder here.

Your eyes drifted to the corner of the curtained entrance.

“There are cameras here.”

“It’s not like we are going to do something inappropriate,” Hotch quipped as he strode to the end of the aisle, hanging the piece of lace into the last cubicle.

For some reason that disappointed you.

By the way he knowingly smirked at you, you knew that was exactly the kind of reaction he had wanted from you. And that gave you a little bit of hope.

You were still questioning what you were doing by the time you had reached him. Was this really happening? And what was this anyway? What was he planning?

Aaron tilted his head, his eyes mustering you up and down and just before you stepped inside, his hand landed on your shoulder. It was warm and heavy and you cursed yourself for how aware you were of him. How everything he did seemed to register in your brain as something of the utmost importance. Especially when he was touching you like it came naturally to him.

“You do not have to do this if you do not want to,” he said firmly, his eyes as serious as ever, “And if you ever want to stop, say Iceberg, understood? None of this will ever affect the way I see you at work.”

You nodded briefly, taking a moment to find your voice. “Understood … sir.”

The corners of his mouth quirked up and his hand smoothed from your shoulder to the very low of your back as you stepped into the small space. “Good girl, let me know when you are ready.”

Your pussy practically throbbed at his words but before you could do anything to embarrass you, he had left you alone, the curtain pulled between you.

When you were alone, you were highly aware that he could still hear you. Still, it afforded you a few precious moments to look at yourself in the mirror and realize that holy shit Aaron Hotchner wanted … something with you. And even if you were not sure what that specific something was, yet, you knew it would be more than worth it.

You rushed to get out of your silk dress and shoes, even going so far as to slip out of your underwear. If there was any time to be brazen it was now.

The piece Hotch had so rightly picked out was a mint green lacey two-piece with a kind of corset bra and high-waisted panties. It looked like the kind of thing one might see on a giant billboard or on a suggested Instagram post. It made you feel like you could have the kind of life where you surprised your (non-existent) boyfriend with some new lingerie or where said boyfriend would take you on a weekend trip to luxurious hotels with good food and even better sex.

Putting on the bra was easy enough but looking at that plastic sticker inside the bottoms made you hesitant. You really did not want to put them on without them having had at least one laundry cycle.

“You decent?”

Granted, he had given you enough time to get out of your clothes. But in your half-dressed predicament, you panicked and threw the panties back onto the hanger. There was no way you were going to try them on like this.

“Kinda,” you replied, feeling a little insecure but also figuring that whatever he wanted to do with you, you would not need panties for that anyway.

In the mirror, you could see the curtain moving and you turned around, facing him.

Aaron Hotchner was way too big in that little entrance of the small space. The dark colour of his suit bled into the dark velvet curtain and his hand looked way too big, the way he gripped that little piece of curtain. He was so close, you felt crowded but also like he was not close enough. Like you needed him closer still.

He did not say anything but just looked at you. His silence made you nervous and you shifted on your feet, crossing your arms in front of your chest and the apex of your thighs.

“Don’t.”

You let your arms fall again.

He remained silent but you watched as his dark eyes took you in. His mouth was in a straight line and you could spot the five-o’clock shadow setting in on his cheeks and jaw. You wondered what it would be like to kiss him like this. His brows were furrowed like he was displeased and for a moment you were afraid he was displeased by you. By your appearance.

Then he met your eyes.

“Do you have any idea how much self-control I invest every fucking day not to bend you over my desk and make you come seven ways till Sunday?”

Hearing him curse (You had made Aaron Hotchner curse, nobody was ever going to believe you.) was such a surprise, it took you a moment to register everything else he said.

“I – I am sorry?” you offered.

“Don’t be,” he murmured, taking a step towards you. The curtain fell closed behind him, leaving you two completely cut off from the world. “When I see you like this, it is more than worth it.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What happened on the plane …”

“… is definitely something I would like to repeat,” he finished your thought, “If that wasn’t clear before.”

“I – I didn’t think you noticed me like this,” you confessed.

“You’re a good profiler,” his finger brushed over your cheek and he tilted his head, “You really did not notice?”

With wide eyes, you shook your head.

He smirked, “Maybe because you were too busy hiding how needy you were.”

He leant forward, then, his breath ghosting over your face and you were sure you had never been more nervous. The scent of his cologne was in your nose, his neck was so close, all you wanted to do was to reach out and loosen his tie.

And so you did.

“I don’t think I was that needy,” you tried to protest before pressing a kiss to his jaw. The stubble scratched your lips but that only added to the excitement in you. A low rumbling sound came from his chest and you gasped in surprise when he pulled you back, keeping his hand on the back of your neck so you had to look up at him.

His mouth brushed yours in a half-kiss and you could see a twinkle in his eyes. “Well, I’d like to think there were some obvious signs.”

He let his fingers wander down your cheek to your neck before they ghosted over the lace of the bra. Your nipples pebbled at his attention, the lace just adding to the pleasant sensation, and his mouth quirked up in that half-smile again. “Like when I could see your nipples get hard when I was with you in that elevator.”

“That – that was one time,” you protested weakly, arching your back so he could touch you more.

He hummed, “Maybe. But all I wanted to do was this.” His thumb brushed over your nipple again and again until all you could do was squirm against him, trying not to beg him to finally fuck you.

But even in your precarious situation, Aaron Hotchner did not make the impression of a hurried man. His eyes flicked from your chest to your face, completely mesmerized by the reaction he got out of you. And you could tell he liked it when he rolled your nipples between his fingers and your knees buckled when he pulled on them.

“Not to mention that time you sucked my cock on a plane,” he reminded you in a low voice and you could feel the heat rise into your cheeks, both from arousal and embarrassment, “I have dreamed of all the things I could do to you. Have you warm my cock in the office, suck my cock under the desk, hell, maybe keep you in bed all weekend long and make you come until you can only say my name …”

There was a very prominent bulge pressed against your hips, confirming these fantasies turned him on just as much as you and that only fuelled your fire. You let your head fall back, your eyes closed as you tried to imagine yourself just as he had described. Sitting in his lap in his office, feeling him inside you while he worked? That sounded like a dream.

Using the exposure of your skin, Hotch dropped his mouth to your neck, kissing and licking and sucking and just making you feel oh so good. It was so easy to just wrap your arms around his neck and pull yourself closer to him.

When he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot, you gasped out a moan, immediately trying to cut the sound off for fear of the chatty cashier hearing you.

His hands continued their exploration of your body and landed on your ass, effectively grinding you against his cock. Your core pulsed, everything in your body thrumming with desire. You knew how big he was, you knew what he looked like and how heavy he was. The sheer idea of feeling him inside you made you feel absolutely shameless.

Which meant there was still one thing you needed to address before there was no going back.

“There are still cameras here,” you whispered against him, panting when he rolled his hips against yours again. Gosh, he was big.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, just as quietly, and without hesitation, you nodded.

“Then I will take care of it.”

And that was all he needed to say.

Feeling encouraged, you let your hands wander and cupped him through the front of his pants. You could feel the weight and the size of him and a new wave of wetness rushed down your thighs.

Hotch groaned low in your ear, a sound that was even better when he made it just for you. His hand landed on yours, making you massage him through his clothes.

“You were so good for me on the plane,” he murmured in your ear, his other hand kneading the soft flesh of your ass, “Felt like a dream come true having you on your knees for me.”

You did not say anything. Both because you could not say anything and because you wanted to hear what he had to say. Hotch was always such a closed-off person, to hear him speak to you so tenderly and so openly … It made you feel like you needed to keep it close to your chest and cherish it.

“Always had the suspicion there was something bubbling under the surface of the good girl you were pretending to be,” he continued kissing his way down your neck until you could feel his teeth tugging on the bra strap. “But there is nothing quite like finding out you were a good girl all along … but only for me.”

He straightened up to his full height. You had always been impressed by how big of a man he really was (and how good he looked in a suit) but now it seemed even more intense.

Because Aaron Hotchner’s dark eyes were staring right into your soul when he asked, “And you are a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

And then he kissed you.

It was passionate and hard and he dominated the kiss so easily, it just made you melt into him even more. His lips were soft and a contrast to the stubble you could feel on his chin. His teeth tugged on your bottom lip, then, and you gasped, following him until he let it fall away.

He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your neck, “Now put your hands against the wall so I can inspect that little pussy. I bet you’re already wet for me, hm?”

Never in your life had you moved so fast.

And he was right, f course. When his fingers rubbed over your cunt, you were embarrassingly wet already. But you could not care less. Not when you were about to be fucked by the one man you had been pining after for months.

You squeaked when a spank landed on your ass, “I’m gonna buy this and so much more just to see you wear it,” he growled, his fingers rubbing over your folds, seeking out your clit, “Just to fuck you in it.”

“Will you fuck me now?”

“That depends,” he murmured, pushing a single finger inside you, “Can you be quiet for me?”

You bit your lip so hard, you were half-expecting to have drops of blood running down your chin. The truth was you did not know but you knew you could try for him. You would try everything for him.

Your eager nod was rewarded with a kiss to your shoulder blade and his fingers went back to circling your clit before dipping inside you again. He hummed, clearly pleased at that and you arched into him, wanting to feel more of him.

The man behind your continued playing with you for what felt like an eternity. Your inner thighs were smeared with your slick, you were sure, and when he pressed his crotch against your ass, you could feel his hard-on distinctly.

“Fuck,” he hissed, adding a second finger as he thrust inside you, “Can you feel how your little pussy is gripping me? It is so so empty without someone filling it, isn’t it?”

“Feels so good, sir,” you whimpered, “Please don’t stop.”

“Oh, stopping is the last thing I am going to do,” he chuckled, his lips brushing over your lobe, “Don’t worry, I am going to take care of you. After all, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t take care of my little whore?”

His words echoed in your mind and settled in your core. He did not say it like an insult, he said it like an endearment. Like he was praising you. And you craved it. You wanted him to call you his, you wanted him to call you anything he wanted to as long as you would be his good girl. Because you know, you just knew, he would reward you for it.

“You really just need an older man to make you come on his cock, huh?” he asked you, his cold belt buckle digging into your ass. His fingers pulled out of you and you pushed your hips back, trying to keep him inside you for as long as you could, the loss of his touch making you whimper.

But then you could feel him undoing his zipper and the anticipation built in your core.

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, pushing out your ass, “’m your whore, sir.”

Your walls squeezed around nothing and, then, finally, you could feel his hand on your inner thigh, pushing your legs apart.

“Deep breath, it’s gonna be a big stretch,” he warned you, rubbing the tip of his cock over your folds. The tingling sensation spread from your core all throughout your body until you could feel it in the tips of your fingers.

Said deep breath get caught in your throat when he pushed inside you.

Hotch was big. You had known that already. But there was a difference between feeling him make your jaw go sore and feeling your walls stretch to accommodate him. He went with slow, small thrusts at first. The kind that allowed you to get used to his size and the kind that made you want him to go deeper and faster and just –

“More,” you did not recognize your own voice, “Please, sir, more.”

“You’re greedy,” he replied smoothly, his hands gripping your hips, “Begging for more as if it isn’t enough having your boss fuck you in public.”

You tried to hold back the whimper but did not quite succeed. But it was sheer impossible to remain quiet when he thrust inside you with control and such precision it made your toes curl. He was large and hit a spot you had not even known existed.

It was even better than you imagined. And you had imagined it a lot …

“C’mon smile into the camera for me,” he angled your head up, face to face with the lens of the camera in the corner. Your adrenaline spiked and despite wanting to pretend like it did not turn you on that someone could just see you absolutely getting wrecked, you could not control the way your walls clenched around him.

“Thought as much,” Hotch rumbled behind you, one hand coming around to your front and finding your clit again, “Got myself the perfect little cock slut.”

“’m gonna come,” you gasped when he tapped your clit, “Sir, please, I –“

“Please what?” he mocked you, his hips snapping against yours, “Don’t forget your manners or I’ll have to punish you.”

The thought of him punishing you almost pushed you over the edge but Aaron Hotchner was right. You were a good girl …

“Please, sir,” you gasped, “Please let me come. PleasepleasepleaseIwannacome –”

He quickened his pace, his cock driving into you again and again while his fingers circled your clit. His lips pressed against the spot under your ear and you pushed back against him, trying to meet his thrusts, trying to get closer to him.

“You can come,” he whispered, his big hand coming up to cup your jaw, “You can come on my cock, right now.”

“You too,” you gasped, trying everything to hold on to that feeling that was just out of reach, just beyond that cliff that you were hurling towards, “You come, too, sir, please, in-inside me.”

“Fuck,” he cursed behind you, his hips stuttering, “You really want that? Want me to fill you up with my come? Think that would tide you over for a while until I can have you sitting on my cock again?”

“Uh huh,” you nodded eagerly, your fingertips flexing against the wall, barely listening to a word he was saying because it only took a couple more thrusts until you came around him.

Hotch swallowed your moan with a kiss and you gripped onto his forearms, anything to keep you standing and somewhat lucid. Everything was a blur and your body felt like it was convulsing and relaxing at the same time. You had never come so hard in your life, you hardly even noticed when he groaned into your ear, his hips stilling against yours as he filled you up. Just like he had promised.

Your heart beat so fast in your chest, you could hear it in your ears and you were pretty sure Hotch could hear it too. But he did not comment on it. Instead, his hand went from your jaw to your chest, softly grazing over the green lace.

“Good fucking girl,” he rumbled, “Knew you would be such a good girl for me and only me.”

Hotch kissed you again, softer this time, and you allowed yourself to properly breathe. “You okay?” he asked you quietly, his hands smoothing over your hips, “Was I too rough?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s just … it’s a lot,” you whispered, closing your eyes to try and slow your breathing, “And – and we need to be back at the station soon.”

“That we do,” he agreed and carefully pulled out of you. You winced at the sensation, feeling his come dripping down your thighs almost immediately. Before you could even worry about leaving any evidence on the carpet, you heard some rustling and then a soft handkerchief was at the mess between your legs, cleaning you up.

You turned your head, finding Hotch kneeling behind you with that furrow between his brows again.

“You look angry a lot.”

You did not know where your words had come from but hell, you might as well run with it now.

The dark-haired man looked up at you, looking unusually amused. “I suppose it might look like that to some.”

When he pulled away and you felt somewhat taken care of, you turned around and grabbed your clothes. Hotch remained standing there with you, his

“Then what is it, really?” you asked him as you slipped your dress over your head. The fabric covered your vision and when you could see again, Aaron was standing again, looking at you with a genuine smile and a twinkle in his eyes.

Damn him for being so handsome.

“I am focused,” he replied, his hand landing on your hip to support you as you slipped back into your shoes. Your hand landed on his forearm, his hand gripping your elbow, keeping you steady.

“Focused on what?”

“On you.”

Your hand froze on his arm. “Oh.”

Suddenly, he was closer again. Standing chest to chest, you could not help but look at his mouth because it was right there and his lips looked so soft and what if this was the moment? What if you could kiss him again and –

“Yeah,” he echoed, his nose brushing against yours, “Oh.”

His mouth ghosted over yours and you closed the distance, kissing him just as softly as he had done before. He did not wait to reciprocate and with his hand still under your elbow, he pulled you flush against him.

He opened his mouth but in a cruel twist of fate, his phone rang and he pulled away. An annoyed exhale left him and you could feel the disappointment when he picked it up. “What’s up Morgan?” he asked, his eyes still on you. his thumb brushed back and forth on your hip and you smiled, feeling elated and excited and so … so …

“Yeah, we’re on our way,” he said sharply, “I thought of getting us some lunch. Have the others text me their order and I will pick it up.”

And with that, he ended the call.

“Picking up lunch, huh?” you teased him, “How very generous of you, Agent Hotchner.”

“What can I say,” he smiled, opening the curtain for you, “I am in an exceptionally good mood today.”

When you returned to the main room of the boutique, the woman was still talking on the phone, not paying any mind to you. Relief filled you at the realization that she really had not noticed. Thank goodness because while it was the experience of a lifetime, you would have surely died of embarrassment.

Hotch’s hand burned at the low of your back but this time it did not cause any anxiety. This time it felt like both of you knew it belonged there.

He led you to the register, the woman only interrupting her conversation long enough to glance at both of you, looking very unimpressed.

“My name is Agent Hotchner, FBI,” he said, showing his badge, “We are on an active investigation. I am afraid I need to confiscate your security footage from the last 12 hours.”

“Also,” he added, putting the two-piece on the counter, “We would like to purchase this.”

#maybege writes #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #smut

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