#paz vizla fanfiction

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

title: at his side (in his bed)

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

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 2586

chapters: 1/1

summary:

They call you the whore of Mandalore.

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

Mandalorians have always been good at keeping their secrets.

AO3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You should have known better.

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

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

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

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

The whore of Mandalore, the voices murmur.

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

Nothing more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have no idea what you mean.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Din only chuckles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Riduur. Your husband.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s what I thought.”

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

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

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

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

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

My heart.

“Din,” you moan. “Gedet’ye.” Please.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you,” you repeat to him.

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

“Din?” You ask.

“Yes, cyare?”

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

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

You giggle, the tension easing from your shoulders.

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

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

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[gabrielislovegabrielislife]

*sees there's no Single Dad! Paz x readers*

*sighs*

*opens google docs*

[misomewriting]

gif from tenor

Sacrifice

Rated T Contains angst, a miniscule amount of fluff, no use of y/n, language Word Count: 1.2k Summary: A scouting mission doesn't go according to plan

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Paz said to the Armorer. “A Jedi? Staying here with us? You know what her kind did.”

“I understand your feelings toward this decision,” the leader replied, “But it is important for us to make peace with a foe from many years ago. With her knowledge, she can educate us as well.”

“I don't see how that benefits us.”

“It will help the foundlings,” she explained, “who are our future.” Paz sighed and nodded his head. “She can provide newer training methods, and history. It is important to have an open mind.”

“Perhaps.” He agreed.

“Now.” The Armorer said, satisfied with his response, “instead of brooding, how about you get to know her? Other Mandalorians have, but still keep their space. If they see you speaking with her, they would be more accepting of her presence.”

Paz nodded his head. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way.”

“I wish I can do that,” one of the foundlings sigh. You slowly lower your hands, gently setting the three of them on the ground. You smile as they congregate to you, ready to ask more questions about Jedi, the Force, and your travels.

“That's enough,” a stern voice calls out. The three young ones turn around and see Paz gazing at your group.

“Yes sir.” The three leave, not questioning him.

You stand up and see Paz walk to you. Nodding your head in acknowledgment, you say, “Yes?” He didn't reply. Instead he analyzes you, wondering why the hell are you here with the Mandalorians. Smirking, you walk to him. “Yes, Mandalorian?” You sense a mix of feelings and emotions from the man. Curiosity, irritation, annoyance, and a dash of frustration.

“I am not here for pleasantries, Jedi.” Paz states.

You lift an eyebrow. “Then what are you here for?”

Sighing, he admits: “To get to know you. The good and bad.” Smiling, you motion for him to come closer.

“I hope you do the same for me.” You reply.

“This is the Way.”

Months have passed. Then years. The foundlings were not only trained in the way of the Mandalore, but also possessed knowledge and fighting skills of the Jedi. You became part of the clan's main scouting troop, and helped in many missions. Your relationship with the other Mandalorians improved and you gained their respect.

“Jedi, I need you to go on a special mission for me.” The Armorer says after the group celebrated a new commencement of a foundling. You sensed a couple lingering thoughts from other Mandalorians; whenever you and the Armorer spoke, it was either serious or sensitive. She motions for you to follow her, and you do.

“What is it?”

“I need you to run a solo stakeout of a group of outsiders.” She says slowly. “I noticed them arrive a couple days ago when scouting.” You nod your head and wait for her to finish. “I have spoken with Paz, him being the leader of your scouting party..." her voice trails before she continues, “he is not satisfied with the plan, especially when I told him it was just you.”

“I...I'm sorry if my presence complicates anything.” you say. It is clear to you, Paz, and the Armorer that there is a special bond between you two. Ragnar, his son, frequently jokes about it.

“I know he'll follow you.” The Armorer states, ignoring your apology. “You know that too...I'll give you more information tomorrow morning. After that, you will begin the mission.”

“This is the Way.” You whisper.

“May the Force be with you.”

After you were debriefed, you entered your T-6 and flew above the strangers’ camp, wanting to see what you were going against. From above there is a band of stormtroopers and a large tent, showing that there was an important presence.

“You see a bird flying in the sky.” You say out loud after waving your hand. You hear a majority of the stormtroopers think about your ship a bird and smile in satisfaction. After flying, you manage to find a place to land, far enough from the campground but close enough to scout safely.

As it became afternoon, yours and the Armorer’s prediction came true.

“Mandalorian,” you call out in a calm tone, “you can come out from hiding.”

Paz obeys your command and walks out of the shadows from your ship. “You knew,” he says. “I figured you expected me but I’m still surprised.”

Paz didn’t need your permission to walk and sit next to you. From your sack, you gather some food and pass it to him. You turn around as he lifted his helmet to eat it. When you hear him put it back in place, you turn back. Paz gently put both of his hands on both sides of your head and leans in close. Both of your foreheads touch and you close your eyes, knowing he was doing the same.

“I know you’ll be up before me, so please, before we sleep,” he whispers, still holding you, “be careful. If you need anything…think of me.”

“I will. I promise.” You whisper back. You gently put his hands down and kiss what would be his forehead. You both fall asleep next to each other, holding hands.

The following day, you venture out from your hiding spot to scout the Empire’s campsite behind boulders. You quietly jump between the rocks in a quick, steady pace and manage to be close enough to see the stormtroopers walk around. They are equipped with their guns, ready for action.

Seeing some near bugs, you close your eyes and connect with them asking them to walk to the troops and large tent to gain information. From the numerous voices bouncing in your mind, you put the plan together that there was a tip from someone who located the Mandalorians’ refuge.

“Damn,” you whisper.

Mandalorian, I am going to give you some important information. You reach out to Paz, The Empire is here and looking for the clan.

The bugs came back to you, giving information that was crucial for everyone know. The Mandalorians’ lives depend on it. Using the Force you free them from their duty and leave the site, ready to travel back. One day is enough. As you walk the same route back, you felt other presences around you. You take your lightsaber out of its sheath and ready yourself for a fight. Stormtroopers came from above and surround you.

“Ah, I see a lone Jedi in our presence.” A familiar voice comments. It is Moff Gideon. “I didn't expect to find one.”

“I can understand why,” you hiss, “unfortunately, it seems that Order 66 wasn't as successful as it rumored.”

Gideon growls and motions for some troopers to grab your arms. They obey him but you have a couple surprises up your sleeve.

"You ready to see what a Jedi Knight can do?" You threaten.

“I need the scouting party to follow me,” Paz tells the Armorer. When he received her message, he flew as fast as he could to warn the others about the stormtroopers, not thinking that he caused a scene when he was in the air. The Jedi protected him from the camp yesterday, and unfortunately he didn't have that luxury. “The Jedi has given me intel and it requires help from us.”

“Then go. Her not returning with you is a sign that the worst has come, or is about to unfold.” The Armorer replies coolly. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way.”

When coming to the Moff Gideon's camp, Paz and the rest of the Mandalorians search around, looking for any surviving stormtroopers and you. Everyone gasps when they land, the damage done to the camp was tremendous. Troopers scattered, some laying in huge heaps while others dismantled. Rocks haphazardly surround the area and guns are in a burning pile.

There was talk amongst the Mandalorians as they wander the camp. Paz only has one person in mind: you. Running around the camp calling out, “Jedi, where are you?” repeatedly makes him nervous. He barely felt your presence in his mind, and did his best to locate the spot you are thinking about.

“Hi,” you heave, clutching your side. The wound wasn't deep, but deadly enough to cause serious damage. Paz runs and kneels down in front of you. He looks around and notices your lightsaber a couple feet away.

“What happened?” He whispers, gently sitting you up.

“Moff Gideon.” You rasp out, putting more pressure on your wound. Paz notices you trying to reach out for your lightsaber using the Force. It was shaking, but not coming to you. He quickly snatches it and gives it to you. “Don't worry, I'm going to cauterize it.”

“Bastard!” He hisses as you wince, watching you burn the bleeding wound with your lightsaber. “Are...are you going to be okay?”

You shake your head. “I was hit with some lasers, but managed to deflect most of them and change their trajectory to stormtroopers...” you answer, trembling. Cauterizing your gaping wound hurt like hell, but it was the best thing you can do at that point. Paz's heart skips a beat when he saw blood on your robes.

“He knows where you are...please go.” You say.

“I am not fucking leaving you.” He counters. “No, you are coming with us. I am not leaving you.”

You manage out a quiet chuckle. You felt streaks of blood run down your forehead, which he tenderly wiped off. “Healing isn't my forte...I always had trouble with that at the academy.”

“Stop talking like that.”

“Go.” You encourage, “You know I won't be able to help...I...I don't feel so good.” By this time, your wound is burnt shut, but the damage to your head and body is too hard to heal. “Just...I really hurt right now, and would like you to--”

“Stop it!” Paz growls. “You...you are my...”

“Cyare,” you whisper faintly. Paz starts shaking, holding your small hands in his. “Go.”

“My name is Paz Vizsla,” he blurts out. "I love you."

“I love you too, Paz Vizsla,” you reply. You tell him your name, and in turn he leans his helmet on your forehead. He lifts it part way and softly kisses your fingers, making you smile. Then, he stands up and raises his pistol over you. You nod your head and close your eyes.

With shaky fingers, he closes his eyes and presses the trigger. Your body went limp. Paz opens his eyes and weeps as he knelt back down and held your lifeless body close to his. “May the Force be with you.”

[sytortuga]

Deafening silence (Chapter 2/3)

General summary: Pre-canon. Din goes to the Wild Space on a mission to capture a Kaleesh bounty. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, but he didn't expect the mission to have permanent consequences on his life.

Warnings: poisoning, general violence, animal attack, animal injury, depictions of sickness, vomiting, hallucinations, permanent nerve damage, permanent consequences on way of life. Some warnings are omitted to avoid spoilers. Proceed with care if any of the above are triggering subjects.

Author's notes: Here's chapter 2 for this fic that was intended as a contribution to @ailesswhumptober. As I already mentioned for chapter 1, this work wouldn't have never happened without @itzagoodthing. Check out the work of this talented writer if you haven't already! 🤩

You may read this chapter in AO3 if you prefer.

Chapter 2/3: The confrontation.

Chapter summary:  Din makes it back to the covert. He confines himself to his alcove to try and ride out the effects of inhaling the Divvik's gas. Some misunderstandings won't make things easier with the process.This will take him on to revive some painful moments of his life.

Since the elders had determined that they should only leave the Tribe one at a time, training the foundlings had become one of Paz Vizsla's favorite tasks. Daily, he would gather a group of younglings for lessons. Some had sworn the Creed and wore their helmets, while others didn't, be it for age or lack of fighting skills. But that didn't make any difference. They were all motivated to learn, to grow and become Mandalorians, and that was all Paz needed to know from them. It didn't matter where they came from. They were all destined to become fierce warriors, loyal members of the Tribe.

That morning he was making the children work on close combat and he was teaching on the use of the shield and vibroblade. 

"When you're deep in the fight, it will occur that you'll need to rely on close range combat skills. In these situations, more than ever, using body, mind and heart, in synchrony and balance, becomes essential. What I mean is that in close combat, physical condition is of essence. But if not used with concentration, dedication, and strict discipline, a fighter cannot be expected to win." 

Paz watched another foundling join the group as he talked. Without giving it more relevance, he continued. "In the same manner, an intelligent and patient warrior will not succeed without strength and speed. Melee weapons should be on you at all times, regardless of your weapon of choice. It will save your life more times than you'll imagine. Now, when dealing with close range combat, one thing you should always… " 

Paz interrupted his speech when the foundling who had entered the training room last, was whispering something to other foundlings. Annoyed, and before he could react, another tribe member came into the room and approached Paz.

"Paz," the other Mandalorian whispered in the infantryman's ear. "It's the beroya. He just came back but he's returned empty handed. No rewards and none of the supplies were required. Everyone is talking about it," he continued. "Walked down the main corridor, swaying and bumped into me. He seemed drunk, if you ask me. He didn't even bother answering when I asked if he needed any help. Without any word, he just disappeared down the tunnels, towards his quarters."

Lost in his thoughts, the heavy infantry Mandalorian fixed his gaze downwards, pondering on his brother's words.

"You know Djarin best, Paz. I thought you should know."

"Stay with the foundlings," Paz said. "I'll go check on him."

With this, the infantryman took his leave, determined to understand what was going on. He navigated the maze of tunnels towards the hunter's alcove, finding other vode whispering among them. That behavior didn't sound like Djarin. He also knew him well enough to know that he would have never come back to the covert empty handed.

Arriving at the hunter's appointed quarters, Paz found the curtain separating the alcove from the corridor was drawn closed, indicating, as it was customary, that someone was inside.

"Beroya, are you in there?"

Paz got no response. Knowing that Din must be inside, he hollored,"Hey, Djarin!" 

Again, no response, and Paz felt himself quickly losing patience. After waiting what he considered enough time for Din to put on his helmet and come out, he pulled open the alcove's curtain. Paz found Din laying on his cot, immobile.

"At least he's spared me the drama of finding him helmetless,'' he murmured to himself as he stepped into the alcove. The fact that Din hadn't even noticed that he had stepped into the small room had Paz suddenly worried. He looked around and didn't see anything out of the ordinary. He didn't see any obvious injuries on the man, no apparent blood or damage to his armor. He then shoved the Mandalorian's feet off the bed. He had clearly caught Din by complete surprise, as the man jumped awake.

"What the hell, runt?” Paz balked. “What's up with you?"

Just slightly raised from the bed, laying on his right side, Din looked at him in silence. 

"Everyone is talking about your entrance back there. Care to explain what is going on?"

Din seemed completely oblivious to what Paz was saying. 

"Least you can do is answer when you're being talked to!" said Paz. "Come on," he continued, gesturing for him to get up. 

The way Din continued to lay there, not making an effort to get to his feet made Paz snap. 

"Get up!" Paz  finally said as he grabbed the smaller Mandalorian by the collar of his flight suit, forcing him to stand up. 

"So, are you going to tell me what happened?" Paz noticed the other man could hardly keep his balance. 

"Speak, di'kut!" said Paz, giving Din's shoulder a shove.

To Paz's surprise, that soft move of aggression had Din swaying. Instinctively, he grabbed Din by his left arm to prevent him from falling. He then noticed how Din's left arm was floppy under his grip, and was solely relying on his right leg to keep himself upright.

"Are you injured, Beroya?" Paz said, now getting worried again that there was indeed something wrong with his brother. The large Mandalorian bent, aiming to find Din's gaze through the visor.

Din jerked away from Paz and had just enough time to turn around. Clumsily falling on his knees against the far end of his alcove, he lifted his helmet enough to empty the contents of his stomach. 

"Is it possible?" Paz asked,  incredulous. "Would you spend credits to get yourself drunk and then have the courage to come back to us empty handed?"

Watching Din continue to retch, Paz no longer expected an answer from the other Mandalorian.

"I understand your mentor's death is still recent, and I know how important he was to you, how much he helped you since your cabur marched away.” Paz continued. “But you need to get back on your feet. Deep inside you must know it wasn't your fault."

Pausing, Paz looked down at his brother. “Look, I get it. I can only imagine the pressure you must be under. Having been appointed Beroya, especially e these trying times, it must be challenging. Honestly I'm not sure I'd be able to do what you do. The pressure to provide, spending all that time alone in space, away from the Tribe. But there used to be a time where we would confide in each other. You needn't be alone.” 

The other Mandalorian gave still no sign of acknowledging him, and Paz said, "You know I can help, just like when you were brought to us."

Still silent, Din panted as he remained on his knees with his back turned to Paz. 

"I don't know you anymore, Djarin. What made you become… this?" Paz continued, but the sight before him just ended up mading Paz burst out in anger.

"DANK FERRICK, DJARIN! JUST SAY SOMETHING!"

Din remained silent and looked like he was  trying to look around while  slowly getting back to his feet. 

"Fine. You want to be alone? Then be alone." Frustrated, Paz kicked him in the side, sending him clattering into the wall of the alcove before falling back to the ground, unconscious. Paz took a moment to look at Din, laying ungracefully next to a pool of his own vomit, passed out from inebriation. 

Disgusted, he stormed out.

— 

Din woke up to someone shoving his feet off his bed. Cracking his eyes open, he looked up to see a blurry blue-clad Mandalorian. He didn’t need to see any more to know it was his old training instructor, Olis, at the Fighting Corps, standing there looking down on him. Din felt confused. Olis had died five years before. His foggy mind couldn’t work out what was going on, but he couldn’t deny that the instructor was standing next to his cot. And he knew what that meant. Training time. Din felt so tired, he didn't think he could get up. But he knew he needed to get on his feet. 

Midnight training sessions were common within the Fighting Corps. They were used to condition warriors to operate with little rest, and taught to stay alert whenever they could afford resting during a mission. He needed to train his body to make small tactical naps whenever possible, despite the conditions. 

It was essential to stay alive in the process while avoiding going beyond that threshold where body and mind would no longer properly function. He already knew by experience that weakness and hallucinations would set in when he didn’t get enough sleep, endangering not only himself but his brothers and sisters on the mission. But today he felt so tired. It wasn't the first time. At 12 years of age, it wasn't the first time he thought to himself that he couldn't possibly get up, and used the momentum of his feet being shoved off the bed to lean on his right side, a significant step forward in reaching verticality. But everything changed when Olis made him stand up by grabbing him by his suit's collar. 

Even though his feet were on the ground, Din felt himself sway. His heart skipped a beat when he realized the effort it took him to not fall. There was something wrong with him. He was exhausted, yes. His muscles ached and he couldn't find the strength to keep his eyes open. All that he was used to, it wasn't anything he hadn't experienced before. But not being capable of properly standing was not normal, and that worried him. 

Din looked back at the blue Mandalorian trying to find some answers. Could this be part of the training? Had he been drugged? But all he could gather was the aggressiveness in his teacher's posture, body language telling him he wasn't happy. But why wasn't he saying anything? 

Unexpectedly, Olis shoved Din's shoulder. The small action made Din’s head turn. Suddenly feeling nauseous, he barely had time to turn around. Falling on his knees, he lifted up his helmet and spilled the contents of his stomach on the floor. With his heart suddenly pounding faster, Din started to get nervous. He couldn't understand what was happening. He had never felt like this during sleep deprivation training. He was exhausted, yes. Nauseous? Occasionally, when he trained or worked past  rest threshold. But never to the point of losing his food. Was he sick? 

He lowered his helmet back in place and tried to make out his surroundings. Alarmed, he realized he wasn't in the apprentices' quarters anymore. He was in his own private quarters. He knew that, but he also knew apprentices didn't have private alcoves. A sensation of panic started to overwhelm him. Confused, he looked up to find Olis gone. Similar blue armor, but this was a much wider man. 

Paz. 

He was towering over him. He wanted so desperately to ask Paz for help. He had always been one to help Din through training, but their relationship had degraded during the last few years. He knew Paz disapproved of some of his merc jobs and the team he had joined, but he knew the heavy infantry Mandalorian would not deny him help should he ask for it. Trying to get in control of his emotions, he took a couple of deep breaths and tried standing. But before he could get very far, he felt himself hit the wall and Din's world went black.

—

Din woke up to his head pounding. Incapable of finding the strength to open his eyes, he tried to listen to his surroundings, trying to figure out where he was. But the strong ringing in his ears made it impossible. The explosions that detonated around him as he ran with his parents across their hometown, still made his ears hurt.  He just laid there, on his side, on the ground. He felt the cold surface taking the little body heat that he seemed to have left. 

For an unknown time that’s all he could do. He could feel the pounding of footsteps, reverberating on the ground. Strong footsteps. The battle droids had killed most of the people he had ever known. Probably also his parents, and now they were coming to finish him as well. He pressed his eyes closed even harder, waiting for the droids to open the hatch to the bunker his parents had hidden him in. He knew a droid eventually found him, but the droid never came.

Eyes still tightly shut, he continued feeling the vibrations of footsteps on the ground. But these were now lighter, and more numerous. He knew where he was. That small vent line in the covert he liked to hide in when emotions became overwhelming. Like now. Losing his cabur had become a traumatic time for him. Anger filled his heart. Anger against whomever or whatever had decided he deserved to lose his parents and his rescuer shortly after. There was no possible way he could forgive this, and even though he knew it was nobody's fault, he felt ok hating everybody for it. 

He felt the footsteps of the other Mandalorians looking for him. But he knew that only his cabur would be able to find him, just like he found him in that bunker. But his cabur wasn't there any more. And he knew he would be safe to process his emotions in privacy. He just wanted to be alone.

More time passed and eventually he managed to open his eyes. He was indeed laying on the ground of what he could tell was his sleeping quarters at the covert. He was alone, that much he could tell. He tried getting up, but he couldn’t make his arms or legs move, making him panic. The strong steps he could feel pounding on the ground must be those of his brothers and sisters. He tried speaking, calling out for help. Being in the covert, surely someone should be able to hear him. But that seemed to be harder than he thought. No sound came out of his mouth, although he couldn't be sure it was just that he didn’t hear it with the strong ringing in his ears.

A feeling of loneliness invaded him. He rarely felt lonely while in the Razor Crest, among the stars, crossing the galaxy over and over hunting for the most profitable bounties to provide for his tribe. But there, laying in his quarters, probably not far from many of the Mandalorians he provided for, he felt lonely. Lonely and scared. Scared that whatever had happened to him would be his end. 

—

Din didn't recall having closed his eyes but the difficulty in breathing woke him up. The paralysis was probably now spreading and making it harder to breathe. No, that wasn't it. Because he looked down on himself to realize he was pinned down by an enormous slab of concrete wall laying on his chest. He felt himself starting to hyperventilate, making the task of breathing more difficult. In desperation to find help, he looked around, but found only destruction: Buildings reduced to ruins, some of them on fire. Smoke invaded the air around him, not making it any easier for him to draw a breath. Bodies, Mandalorian and Imperial alike, were scattered for as far as he could see. 

He closed his eyes, trying hard to control his breathing. His chest felt like it was being crushed under his armor, but he concentrated on decreasing his ventilation rate and getting more meaningful breaths. He knew he would quickly pass out if he didn't. He was startled to see someone running between the ruins, screaming his name. But it was so hard to breathe, his vision started slowly to fade. He put all his strength in getting air in his lungs. A large blue blurr was moving towards him. When they finally became closer, Din realized who it was.

"Din! Thank the Manda I found you," he heard a younger Paz say.

The relief of seeing his brother broke all the progress Din had made at keeping his breathing under control. He felt overwhelmed by the emotions.

"Hey, Din. Hey! Look at me," he heard the big Mandalorian say as he grabbed Din's helmet to make him look at him.

But all Din could think about was how he couldn't breathe. He was trying hard, he was desperate to fill his lungs with air, but it was getting increasingly difficult. Prey to his fears, his breathing was now just a very superficial panting. 

"DJARIN! Slow down, vod. I'm with you. You're not alone," Paz reassured him. "I'm going to get you out of there ok? But you need to calm down. Controlled breaths. In and out."

Din once more closed his eyes and focused on Paz's words: "In … and out…, in… and out…" he heard. "That's it, brother. Good job."

Paz disappeared from his line of view only to quickly return. "I'm going to try and move the slab. You think you can get out of there on your own if I lift it enough?"

Din couldn't be sure, he barely felt anything below the point where the concrete pinned him to the ground. He looked around as if expecting someone else to come and help.

"There's nobody left, vod." Paz explained, reading Din's mind. "The last evac transport left the moon a while ago."

"You stayed…"

"I've known you since you arrived at the covert, Djarin. I know you're hard to kill," the infantryman chuckled. "I was not ready to leave you alone and dying in this karkin' mess."

Tears welled up in Din's eyes, but Paz didn't give him a chance to dwell on the emotion, asking, "So, ready?" 

They both knew that if they wanted to make it out alive, he'd need to get out by himself. The big blue Mandalorian got up, and without any further comment, he took his blaster cannon and prepared to use it as a lever to move the concrete slab.

"Din, are you ready?" 

As Din nodded, Paz put all his strength at lifting the slab. Din grunted in pain as he felt the pressure in his chest slowly decrease. Feeling he was nearly free, he started pushing with his elbows to crawl from under the concrete block. He had barely moved some centimeters when the cannon lost grip, making the weight fall violently back on Din's chest. He didn't have the time to scream with pain before this world went black.

Din woke to the smell of smoke and burnt skin. Paz was using the force of his jetpack to lift up the concrete wall that was pinning him to the ground. Out of sheer stubbornness and blunt force, his brother managed to displace the slab, setting him free. The fire from the jetpack's exhaust filled Din's lungs with smoke, not helping him with the difficult task of breathing. The fire also caught his flightsuit, reaching and burning the skin of his chest. The pure agony made him scream. 

—-

When he next opened his eyes, he was expecting to see Paz, looking triumphantly down on him before he helped him get to safety, out of the Purge's battlefield. At least, he knew that was how it actually happened. But no, he was alone. Very far from Concordia. On Nevarro, laying on the ground of what his covert had determined to be his alcove. He could barely move anymore, the paralysis fully set. He was barely capable of looking down on himself to see his beskar chestplate slightly smoking. The AED system integrated in his armor had activated, and that would only happen should the biomonitors indicate the absence of a sinus rhythm. His heart had stopped. But he had no more energy to fight whatever he had inhaled back at Nirauan. Breathing was already difficult enough. 

Feeling cold and lonely, he gave in and prepared to join the Manda, or whatever, if any, karking thing there was after this life.

[certifiedskywalker]

I Don’t Care - Paz Vizla

Anonymous said: I loved you paz vizla story!! Can we have another reader one? Your writing was SOOOO gooood for that one so I just had to request another!

AN: This is a Mandalorian!Reader fic! I hope I did the big blue boy justice!

Paz Vizla is rude, cold, and reckless. But around you, his ‘I-don’t-care’ attitude melts away. 

You couldn’t see who drew the first vibroblade but the moment you heard the familiar hum, your body tensed. Muscles you hadn’t used in ages readied to launch into action. Your teeth clacked together with grit, the sound filling your ears as it resounded in your beskar helmet. Battle had hardened your bones and it had been too long since your last skirmish.

You were hungry for it.

Before you could get to it, dive right into the fray, the fight came to an end. The Armorers smooth voice rung out with the words of the Creed.

“This is the Way.”

“This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” you echoed, letting your braced shoulders fall. Curled fists relaxed into open palms and you had to bite your tongue to keep from grumbling. You stood still as the others in front of you watched the Armorer and Din Djarin. As you were trying to listen out for what they were saying, the sound of heavy footfalls reached your ears. 

The crowd of your tribe, fellow Mandalorians, parted slightly then, suddenly, all at once to make way for the hulking form of Paz Vizla. A smile spread under your helmet and you too started to push out of the crowd. Not long after you started moving, you could sense Paz’s presence behind you. Shadows cast in front of you, bulky and large, only confirmed the feeling. 

Finally, you and Paz were free from the gathering mass of people. Heat from the forge trailed you both as you filed into the main tunnel. The smell of it made its way to your tongue, tarnished the taste buds with steel and sweat. Flames and metal were your only memory of home.

“This is coward’s way of the Mandalore,” Paz snapped when you both were far enough away from the beskar forge. “Djarin is a mercenary wearing our armor.”

“Paz,” you looked past him, to the side to eye at the cluster of people still lingering around the forge. “Careful.”

“I’m done being careful. I’m going up.” 

Your eyes widened and your felt your heart lurch in your chest. Warningly, scared, you whispered, “Paz, that is not-”

“I don’t care.”

His words were cold, harsh, and unnerving. His words set you on edge, teetering on a cliff, balancing in the darkness of a night sky. If you fell, the plunge could kill you. If you stayed, you never would get the chance to fly. You took a collecting breath and crossed your arms over your chest.

“You should care,” you fired back, “because I’m going with you.”

Paz jerked his head back and you could only imagine his wide eyes glued to you. Smug and closed-lipped, a grin spread across your features; one that Paz could not see. Part of you wished he could. Maybe then the words lodged in your chest could be said easily. Maybe then, finally, Paz could truly see you, in the way you longed for him to see you.

“Let’s go then.”

Before you could respond, Paz was already making his way towards an intersection of tunnels. You followed after him quietly as to not alert the others to your intentions. With each step, your excitement, your nerves, grew. It had been a long time since you had stepped out from the sewers, too long. You were just hungry for freedom as you were a fight.

So you followed Paz outside, into the dusk of Nevarro. 

His blue armor looked dark against the orange-pink sky. Not as dark as his silhouette, which resembled deep pitch. Your eyes were glued to him so intensely, you nearly tripped up to the surface. To catch yourself, you reached out and gripped Paz’s shoulder. Instincts, hardened through traditional Mandalorian training, the same training you had endured, kicked in. Paz reached and wrapped a thick arm around your waist, pulling you to him. 

“Watch it,” he said gruffly. Something in his tone was teasing though.

You rolled your eyes and punched your fist lightly against his chest plate. The beskar elements clanged together like tiny echoes from the forge. He caught your wrist, his gauntlet knocking against the metal on your forearm. You both stayed still, your body almost completely flush with his. It was sight you had longed for. Even though you couldn’t see his eyes, you could feel them intently focused on you.

“That’s not very nice,” he said lowly. You felt your stomach twist at the deep sound. Perhaps Paz seeing you was something you were not yet ready for. Wanting to relieve the feeling, the tension, you pulled away slightly.

“Spar?” You knew that Paz could sense your nerves. Your voice made it clear at the sky above you. The smell of ash and smoke was getting to you. Or perhaps it was how close Paz was to you that made your head feel light. “Paz, I-”

“No,” he replied softly. Even with his helmet’s voice modulator, there was something terribly gentle, human, in his voice. “I want to see you.”

You tried to think back to the last time Paz had been so tender, so careful. 

It could have been when you were both foundlings in the Clone Wars. You could still remember the boy you met all those years ago. Or maybe it was on your first few missions together. He had saved your life and you had saved him; you worked together well. How long had it been since you had been so close to him? You had been starved of Paz’s softness, the caring nature he only showed sparingly. Just as you were hungry for a fight, for fresh air, you yearned to see Paz and for Paz to see you.

“Paz, we’re out in the open. Anyone can-”

“I don’t care.”

Unlike the first time the phrase left his mouth, this time it was desperate. The arm Paz had around you waist slipped away and, for a moment, you were scared that you were going to lose him. So you reached out, gloved hands gripping his chest plate. Instead of falling away from you, Paz lifted his hands to yours only to move them upwards. Up and up until your gloves rested on the sides of his blue helmet. Your breath hitched at the touch.

“You care,” you whispered, find your voice, “I know you.”

Paz let out a small grunt as he lifted his hands to your helmet. There was a silent, mutual agreement between you in that moment. Then, and in the next moment as you and Paz lifted each other’s helmets off your heads. It was like a breath of fresh air.

Literally, it was. Nearly as gentle as Paz’s touch, a breeze kissed the skin of your cheeks, then your nose, then, finally, your forehead. Relief, it was a relief. Then you saw him.

“Paz.” His name come out in a whimper as you met his bright eyes. 

Carefully, you both let the other’s helmets fall into the sand. Nevarro, it’s sands, it’s heat, everything, faded away until all you saw, all you cared about, was Paz. His sharp features seemed to call your name. You couldn’t tear your eyes away.  

His brows, his chin, coaxed your hands into motion. Even his own hands gripped you, pulled you close. His jaw, and his lips: “Y/N.”

Your hands found their way to his thick neck and you leaned up towards him. He met you in the middle, his nose knocking against yours softly. Paz’s hands tightened on your waist as his lips met with yours. Sweat, he tasted like sweat and something sweet. He parted your lips with his and deepened the kiss until you were so close your chest plates clanged together. 

The sound made you smile into the kiss. Slowly, you pulled away. Your smile turned into a grin, one that Paz could see; one that you would only ever show to him. 

A sudden shout down the way, most likely a fight breaking out near the cantina, made you jump. Nerves flooded your system and you tore your gaze from Paz’s. “We should go, before someone-.”

“No,” Paz whispered, pinching your chin between his thumb and finger to pull your eyes back to his. “I don’t care who sees.”

He pulled your lips back to his and your eyes closed on instinct. In the dark behind your eyelids you saw a future. A future with Paz, where he could kiss you like this whenever he, whenever you wanted. That was the way you wanted to go. That was the future you wanted to have and share with the man you love.

[3mmafr0st]

Ok, but hear me out, Paz Vizsla with a breeding kink

this is 100% correct

SMUT UNDER THE CUT, 18+ ONLY PLEASE

Definitely would want to get you pregnant, like, not even joking

Would want to make his own clan with you, rather than just taking care of foundlings

Family is so stressed in mandalorian culture, one of their six tenets is literally to raise your children as mandalorians

So he would definitely be eager to put a baby in you, as long as you were ok with it of course.

There would be a conversation first of course

As much as he wants kids, I feel like he would feel a little like he didn’t deserve it, like he doesn’t deserve you, especially after his fight with Din. He would feel like he could not keep his clan name going, 

but once he finds out that you think that it’s a good idea, he is able to dissuade his own fears, because if you believe in him, then he must be worthy to continue the Vizsla name.

I hc that like, mandalorians cum like so much, like an ungodly amount.

“Come on mesh’la, that’s it, taking me so well. Gonna let me fill you up, aren’t you, you’re gonna look so good with our baby in you.”

After he cums, hes totally willing to push it back into you, maybe even use a plug so none of it is wasted by leaking out.

“Fuck, mesh’la. look so good like that, filled up with my cum. Can’t let any of it go to waste, can we?

[moon-sang]

O M L Moon..... where do I start XD

I CANNOT EXPRESS IN WORDS HOW MUCH I LOVE UR FANFICTION AND I WOULD BE HONOURED IF U COULD DO MY REQUEST!!

Request:

I know it's a bit gory but I just need this shock/angst from Mando right now :)

So whilst mando is out on a bounty, the reader is left at the covert where Paz in a way bullies her (I have nothing against Paz I just dunno any other Mandalorian other than the armourer, him, Boba, and Din XD) anyway and reader has bad coping habits so they lock themselves in a room and does self harm? I know it's bad I just want to see how you would write about Din's shock when he sees reader with blood all over them and on the floor holding a knife.

Also THANK U SO MUCH FOR PART TWO ON I FEEL COLD I LOVE THAT STORY THE ANGST IN IT I JUST CAN'T!

Thank you so much anon, thank you for also requesting something, I've been super bored lately. I would imagine Din being super shocked to see someone he travels with doing that to themselves and would get the absolute shits with Paz XD

Don't Listen To Him

SUMMARY: You are already insecure about yourself, Paz doesn't help and you have some really bad habits with coping with things.

WARNINGS: Self-harm (not explicit), gender-neutral reader, angst, shcoked Din, slightly angry Din, typical violence if you squint, reader is described shorter than Din, pls tell me if I miss anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pls remember that there is always help out there if u ever need it. Feel free to contact me if your having suicidal/self-harmful thoughts, you deserve so much in this world, i would be happy to help, and listen to you, even if it doesn't seem like much, this is just a request I DO NOT promote any self harm.

It hurt. Not the fresh cuts engraved in your skin, but his words. "You really think you mean anything to Din? What rock do you live under to think you mean anything to him, you're not even half his size, tiny." The words still rung clearly in your mind. "Din is a cold hearted hunter and to think you're blind enough that you think he likes you is absurd, you're probably just holding him back, like you do to everyone else." You can't help but choke out a loud sob, the words felt like acid burning through your skin, and left a salty taste on your tongue.

Absent-mindedly you run your knife through your wrist, cutting through a vein at the same time. Blood spills over your whole hand. Usually you would stop by now, but you couldn't, you still felt so empty and you were beginning to think Paz was right. After all you had seen the way Din slashed his darksaber through a bounty, maybe.... you did hold him back.

You felt like you couldn't breathe. Sobs racked your body and you couldn't suck a proper amount of air in when you sob again. Taking in a shaky breath you bring the small pocket knife to your throat. Maybe if you disappeared... Din would have it better, just him and the kid, no one to hold him back, no liabilities. Just as you begin to apply enough pressure for a small amount of crimson blood to trail down your neck the hatch (which must have been hacked into to unlock) opened. You can't even react to Din's appearance when your knife is whacked right out of your hand, scattering to the floor. You gasp, your body tensing. "What the hell are you doing?!" Din yells, half in shock, half in anger. You can't even answer, the only thing you can do is splutter out meaningless words. Din grabs your wrist, gently inspecting it. The wound is definitely deep, Din notes. He examines you with laser focus. You want to turn away from him, embarrassed at yourself for letting him catch you in this state. His thumb kept your head in place though. "Tell-me, now." He growls, not angry at you, but at himself for possibly doing something to make you want to hurt yourself. The only word you can get out is his very name. you can't help but burst into tears at his gaze. A worried Din pulls you in for a tight hug. Unaware at all the anxiety that had been building up in you you began to feel dizzy, and eventually passed out in his arms.

The next time you wake up your in bed, your wrist is bandaged, and everywhere else you had managed to bring harm to. You blink your eyes, getting rid of the morning blur. "Say it." Din's voice startled you, and you jump up out of the bed you rested in. In front of Din stood Paz, head cocked slightly down. "Say it!" Din snarls again. Din's blaster was pushed to Vizla's neck, cocked. "Din w-what are you doing-" Din cuts you off. "I looked over the tape, this bastard thinks he has some right to tell you what you mean to me?" He growls pushing the blaster further up his neck. Paz freaking out finally breaks. "Ok i'll say it!" he screams. "Y/n, i'm sorry, what i said- it- I was being an idiot, Din cares for you so much!" he shouts. Din puts the blaster back in his holster and pushes Paz foward. Vizla stumbles to the ground. "Din you didn't have to do tha-" "yes.. I did." he cuts you off. "If anyone says anything to you that makes you want to do that again... I want your o come straight to me or comm me, ok?" You nod and give Din a quick hug.

Ok I have to say this isn't my best story but I hope it does the job anon!

[ronnieiswriting]

Sweet Dreams- Boxer!Paz x Baker!Freader

Inspired by the events of Foul (following straight after) and the Boxer Din AU created and written by the wonderful, amazing, brilliantly talented @djarinsbeskar! WC: 1,641 Tags: 18+, mentions of smut, its a smutty AU ya'll know the drill, sickeningly sweet fluff I have been driven to write this to deal with all my Paz thots- it will become very clear that I make up for the fact that I can't write hot smut by writing the softest shit. Excuse the lack of editing, also, its quite the mess x

After Din had stormed off with his “not-girlfriend” at Avika, Paz was more than ready to go home right then and there, thoroughly unwanting to deal with the feral frenzy that Din had stirred up in and out the ring. But there was no doubt that there would be more calls for blood. And even if that weren’t the case- even if Din wasn’t on the lists tonight- Paz had to stay.

It was his job after all. And one he enjoyed more often than not.

But when he thought about you, Paz’s priorities became trivial- like dust in the wind.

He hadn’t been dating you for long but he already knew that he was in deep. To Paz, you were the one that hung the stars in the sky; you, a hardworking baker with a smile that made his heart ache and hips that made his cock twitch. It was love, the realest he’d ever found, and every day he swore his gratitude to whatever force had sent him to you.

It was almost a taunt to watch Din leave Avika with his “not-girlfriend” tucked into his side- he’d been disqualified from any more fights that night but he couldn’t look any less content about it- when Paz had to stay behind with nothing but the thoughts of you waiting for him back at his place to keep him company.

To pass a bit of time between the words that were being exchanged between Boba and Din’s opponent’s trainer, Paz checked his phone- his mood instantly brightened when he saw a notification from you.

From: Sugar Cookie💖

Hey babe, I just got home. Did you feed Kitty yet? He’s begging me for food rn but I know he’s probs got a full belly and is just being a little gobble guts lol. sent 4:13am

I gave him a tinyyy bit of kibble to hold him over in case you didn’t. Kitty knows I can’t resist him. Sorry for messaging you at work btw. I know you’re busy xx Love you xx sent 4:19am

Paz checked the current time. 5:30am. Shit. He must’ve missed the buzz of the notification amidst the chaos. Usually, your shifts at the bakery ended closer to midnight but he knew you to be a hard worker, proud of the bakery you ran by yourself, and always likely to get caught up in a task until it was done to a high standard. It was just another thing for Paz to love about you.

His thumbs hovered over the reply box; you had probably already gone to bed, exhausted from your own long day of work. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb you but he pushed past that doubt a second later, typing out a response, softened when he reread your messages about his kitten.

“Vizsla!” Boba’s voice pulled him back into reality. “Are you listening at all? This does concern you.”

Paz managed an easy half-lie, fingers tapping away as he switched contacts and began typing another message, “I’m sending Din a text- trying to figure out what started all this.”

…

When Paz finally did get home it was pushing 8am. Expecting to find you curled up in his bed, comfortably asleep, he was shocked to see you as soon as he opened the door to his apartment. You were propped up against a wall of cushions on his couch with a book resting in your lap and his kitten snoozing on your chest. Head thrown back and peacefully still, he could tell you were fast asleep.

Just the sight of you, the shape of your body outlined by the drape of the blanket that was thrown over you, your features illuminated by the warm light of the lamp, the splay of your hair over the pillows- just looking at you relieved him of so much of the stress he had carried home. His eyes traced over your form, picking out the dip and curve of your hips, and he was struck again with the amount of love he had for you. He still couldn’t believe how quickly he had developed such deep feelings for you but that fact made them no less sincere. The softness and simple intimacy (whether that be primarily sexual or emotional) that your company alone promised never ceased to amaze him.

Trying to be as quiet as he could manage, Paz shut the door behind him, put his backpack down by the door, and crossed the room to kneel down at your side. He considered leaving you there for the rest of the night- if he did he could go take a nap and then come back and wake you up by eating you out before making you breakfast- but ultimately he wanted to, needed to sleep next to you… and he couldn’t manage that on the couch.

He got the best sleep when you stayed the night, your chest made a far better pillow and your arms though relatively small provided him with so much warmth that he would be more than content to sleep without any covers (which happened sometimes when you hoarded the blankets).

Paz let out a silent sigh and reached out to stroke the hair away from your face. You stirred in response and he leaned in to press a kiss to your nose, “Hey, baby, it’s just me.”

You let out a soft moan, eyes scrunching up before blinking open, looking up at him blearily, “Paz~”

His heart could have burst at the sound of your gentle voice laden with sleep. Carefully so as not to disturb your place, Paz eased the book from your fingers. The exhaustion was palpable on your face, the weight of many hours of work pulling at the edges of your eyes. “I thought you’d be in bed by now.”

You eased yourself up on the cushions, one hand bracing the kitten against your chest. “I wanted to stay up for you. I didn’t mean to doze off.” Fuck. Paz was slipping his arms under you faster than you could process and when he stood you were tucked against his chest, kitten, blanket and all. You didn’t even seem bothered by the shift, curling your fingers into the neckline of his shirt. The simple touch drove him wild- the burn of your warm skin against his throat like a blowtorch- and the fact that you seemed oblivious to that only made him ache for you more.

When he had gotten you halfway to the bedroom you spoke again in that voice that threatened sleep, “I would've been able to stay up for you if I didn’t have to spend three hours on a last minute order for a wedding cake.”

Paz opened the door with his hip. “You don’t have to say yes to every job you know.”

“I know- but the couple was so sweet, I couldn’t say no. Plus they paid me double and half on top because of the short notice.”

He laid you out on the bed and replaced the throw blanket with his thick quilt, kitten moving to curl up beside your head on the pillow. The comfortable setting was luring you quickly to sleep again but you were still determined to see him next to you before you shut your eyes again fully. When he didn’t immediately join you, you frowned.

Paz eased the crease in your brow with a kiss there, “Don’t pout, sweetheart. I just gotta take a shower.” He could have skipped one for now, knowing you wouldn’t protest his sweaty skin, but he wanted to be rid of the flecks of blood that had stuck to him, everything that had stuck to him from that ring, before he touched you. You started to protest but Paz silenced you with a searing kiss to your lips, “I won’t be long, I promise.”

If he had thought you would be back asleep by the time he finished he was fooling himself. You scooched backwards on the mattress and petted the space you made in front, “come here.”

Paz went willingly, instantly. He eased back the covers and shuffled in next to you, clad only in a pair of boxers, hands instantly finding your skin to greedily palm the warmth that radiated from you. You cozied up to him just as naturally, arms wrapping around his neck so that he could tuck his face against the crook of your neck. With the covers pulled over the both of you, Paz felt surrounded by your presence and it calmed any remaining stress he had.

Although he had reprimanded Din for taking a violent approach to defending a woman’s honor, Paz couldn’t deny the fact that he’d be just as likely to take a similar action if anyone spoke about you like that- just thinking about those vile, entitled words directed at you made his jaw clench subconsciously. And yet just as soon as that anger stirred up in him, it dissipated again, soothed by the thump of your heart against his chest and the delicate fan of air you puffed over his damp skin.

He was reminded of the first time he told you he loved you; not long ago, in the middle of a good hard fuck when he had you by the hip, lost in the emotion of your eyes to the point where his confession had come out as a babble that became a mantra that he punctuated with each thrust of his hips. You had been on the verge of tears then, overstimulated and shaking, when you returned the words to him from your own lips: I love you too.

“I love you.” Paz whispered.

You snuggled against him tighter, a sleepy sigh escaping you when his hands ran up and down your sides. “I love you too.”

[cora-vizsla]

Di’kut (Paz’s Mission)

Rating: M for swearing

Word Count: 2.2K

Warning: Swearing. Talking about canon violence. Idiots to lovers (thank you to my wonderful reader for that description because it’s the truth lol) Angst.

AN: Okay, this is the year that Paz and Cabur spent apart from Paz’s POV. I have had this idea for a WHILE but finally have the time to write it. If you have not read Cabur, this will make very little sense. This fits between Chapter 1 and 2. 

Paz was furious. He had saved you yet the first thing you did was throw it in his face that he wasn’t enough. You had options to keep your creed and survive yet you had just freaked out. He didn’t know how to deal with it. Hell, he had no idea how to deal with you in general.

The moment you had been assigned to travel with him and Din, all he seemed to be able to do was make you angry. Every time he tried to teach you something or show you a different way.. a STRONGER way.. you resisted him. Yes, you were a warrior, but you were still so young. Paz wasn’t someone to think that anyone small was weak but something about you being in danger just set him on edge.

Maybe it was the dwindling numbers back home. It could even be how close you were to Din and his hardheaded brother just never seemed to take you being in danger seriously. He hated always looking over his shoulder to make sure that you were okay. He couldn’t focus.

Then knowing that you took that blaster shot because of his carelessness just set him over the edge. He doubted you knew just how lucky you were that you didn’t die. Without the sedative, meds from Din and making sure you could breathe.. you would have died right in front of him.

There you were screaming about dar’manda. He knew the Armorer. She would have decided on an exemption and sent you through more training. After a while of calming down, Paz walked back into the main area of the ship to Din rearranging supplies.

“Is she asleep?”

Din looked at him and shook his head.

“Is she that mad that she is hiding away?”

He stomped over to the small sleeping area you had been occupying but froze when Din spoke.

“She’s gone, Paz.”

“Gone? She was fine when I went up.”

“She isn’t dead. She left.”

Paz stalked forward, looming down at his brother.

“What the fuck do you mean she left?”

“She said she would rather live in exile than live with the shame that you have seen her face.”

“You’re telling me you let her walk out of here alone while she is injured?”

“She isn’t a child, Paz. She can come and go as she pleases.”

“She is hurt! She almost died and now she’s out there walking? Where is she going. I’m going to stop her.”

Din grabbed his arm to stop him, only infuriating him more. He grabbed Din by his chest plate and slammed him backwards into the wall.

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

“You need to let her go. You made a decision that went against what she would want. You knew it when you did it. You disregarded what she wanted and broke her creed when you had no business doing so. Now she has made her decision. Are you really going to take away another choice from her?”

Paz was trying to calm down, but his chest was heaving. Din couldn’t see it, but he was starting to feel the anger slip away from him as guilt started to shift. As he let go of Din and backed up, the memory of you crying and panicking rushed back into his mind. He had been so afraid of losing you that he took away the very creed he would die for from you.

“You’re.. you’re right. I just.. I couldn’t watch her die when I could save her.”

“And now you have to deal with never seeing her again.”

“You would have let her die?”

“I don’t know what I would have done, vod. I’ve never been in that situation. I just know if I were in her spot, I would have done the same thing.”

“She could have-“

“If you knew a thing about her, you would have known this reaction was coming. She made her choice, Paz. Let her go.”

XXX

Paz stormed down the dimly lit hallways, watching as everyone scrambled out of his way. It wasn’t often that he was so pissed, but everyone could tell not to get in his way. Once he and Din were finished with the bounties they had picked up, he wanted to get back to the armorer. He was convinced she would have some way to fix the situation so that you could come back with no repercussions. When he burst into the room, everyone else silently left, leaving Paz along with the Armorer.

“Vizsla. I see you and your vod have returned.”

“Yes.”

She turned and looked at him before motioning for him to sit down. He stomped over and plopped down, fidgeting with his armor.

“Mind explaining why you have burst into my space?”

“We need to go find her.”

“Her.”

He huffed out a sigh and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yes. Her. We need to go find her. She’s out there and-“

“I assume you mean the young warrior sent with you and Din.”

“Yes. Obviously. We were on a mission and-“

“Din has already informed me of what happened.”

Paz took a deep breath while he ground his teeth. Of COURSE, Din had already told her.

“So, then we need to go get her.”

“You broke her creed. If she has decided to leave, then that is her decision to make.”

“I saved her life.”

“I believe you. Though she has still broken her creed.”

“She could have married me.”

“Yes. Though I am sure that was brought up.”

“Of course, it was. I didn’t want her to leave. There were options for her to stay and she just ran away!”

“Would you have married whatever Mandalorian pulled your helmet off?”

“Well.. no. I mean.. I don’t know. I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Think is it safe to say you are being irrational for being angry with her for her choice?”

Paz signed and leaned forward, letting his head hang.

“Yeah, I guess so. I just.. I couldn’t watch her die.”

“It is sad when any of our kind perish. It seems more than that to you though.”

“What? No. No she just.. she was just a young warrior.”

“Warrior Vizsla, I suggest you figure out what is troubling you so much about her. She is hardly the first of our kind you have lost. Likely won’t be the last.”

“I.. alright. I’ll work on it.”

XXX

He had hopes as time moved on that he would feel better. He wanted to get back out there, run some missions, and forget entirely about you. He hadn’t lied to the Armorer. He really had no idea why you were stuck in his mind. You weren’t anything special and, in the end, you were still alive because of him.

Din watched him carefully any time they needed to land. He could say that he had no more thoughts of you, but his brother knew he was lying. When you called into him to set up pick-ups, he kept it from Paz. He swore he didn’t care about you at all, so there was no point in bringing up something that would only cause issues. Paz had a temper and if he knew where you were he likely would storm there and try to drag you back to the covert.

Paz had decided to go into town to get supplies. It was their last stop before heading back where Din would be out on his own. They needed warriors to be trained and no one was better than the giant blue Mandalorian. Everyone parted as he walked through, not wanting to get in his way. As he was walking, he heard a woman laugh and stopped dead in his tracks.

He looked where the noise came from. The woman was turned away, but stars did she look just like you. In fact, he knew it had to be you. He walked forward, determination set in, as he was going to confront you.

“So, you leave us only to abandon our creed entirely. No wonder why you wanted to leave. Tired of this life already, girl?”

He spun the person and froze when terrified eyes looked back at him. She shrunk away and he realized his mistake.

“Who are you? Please don’t hurt me!”

“I’m.. I’m sorry. I thought.. thought you were someone else.”

He realized that everyone was looking at him, so he got out of there as quickly as possible. He was in a haze as he made his way back to the ship, stumbling up the ramp. Din whipped around with his blaster drawn and sighed when Paz was there with no supplies.

“What happened?”

“I thought I saw her. I thought it was her. I swear Din it.. I got so angry. I thought she had taken her armor off and was living entirely without the creed.”

“Who?”

“You know who.” He hissed.

“Paz, did you hurt someone?”

“No, just scared a woman out of her wits.”

Paz slumped against the wall and put his helmet in his hands. His chest was heaving like he had been fighting all day. Din sighed and crossed his arms.

“You’ve got to figure this out, Paz. Being this distracted is going to get you killed.”

The battle was fierce. He was able to get Din and the child out, but the fighting was far from over. His feet slammed to the ground as he opened fire, taking out as many mercenaries as possible. He tried to focus on where he needed to shoot, but watching his brothers and sisters fall shook him to his core.

He thought of you when he saw a flash of red armor. His heart sank thinking that you had come back just in time to die with everyone else. Once his brain caught up and he realized it wasn’t you, he let out a shaky sigh of relief before focusing in on his enemy.

Once things became too much, he turned and ran to protect the Armorer.

“Vizsla, you need to go. All of you need to go. Separately.”

“Where the hell should I go? We need to fight. You need-“

His eyes finally focused in on the piles of armor on the ground.

“Some have already left. Some have fallen. If we want this to carry on you need to leave.”

The Armorer put her hand on his shoulder, garnering his attention.

“What have you decided about her?”

“Her.”

“Don’t be coy, Vizsla, we don’t have time. What is your heart telling you?”

Paz looking at the pile of armor again and balled his hands into fists.

“She’s.. alone. None of us need to be alone. Not now.”

“Go find her. Find her and bring her back.”

“What if I can’t?”

“Then don’t come back.”

XXX

Paz had been looking for days for you. Every lead just led him to another. It was frustrating and he was still in pain for the battle. When he landed on the tree covered planet, he was annoyed. He needed to rest but the sooner he found you the sooner he could drag you back to where you needed to be.

He walked through the woods, disregarding everything around him. The vegetation didn’t matter and neither did the animals scurrying around. He was so determined he didn’t even let himself think of how different it looked there compared to where he had left what was left of your people.

When he walked through the thick vegetation into a clearing he instantly was hit by a shot to his chest. He stopped in his tracks to see you standing there with a now smoking blaster pointed at him.

It was you. It was really you. All the times he had thought he saw your armor glint in the sun or heard your laugh ring out in a crowd was nothing compared to actually seeing you.

He took in your appearance. You looked healthy. You were still wearing your armor and it had been touched up. In fact, it looked better than he remembered it which meant you actively worked on it.

You were okay. You were living the creed. You were still whole and intact. He wanted to tell you how sorry he was and how much he had dreamt about seeing you. He had lost track of all the nights he stayed up wondering how you were and hoping that wherever you were, you were okay. He wasn’t sure if he should hug you or just collapse to the ground and beg for forgiveness.

He then snapped back to reality and realized that you had in fact shot him in the chest.

“Dank farrik! Do you shoot everyone who comes here?”

“Just overly large assholes.”

Paz held back the snort of laughter he wanted to let you. You were still you and as long as you were alive, he didn’t care if you were still mad. He thought of the scowl you likely had on your face under your helmet and for the first time in a year he didn’t feel guilt for knowing what your beautiful face looked like. He watched you pocket your blaster and look him up and down. He looked down at his own armor and noted how beat up and rough he looked.

“What are you doing here, Paz?”

“Well right now I’m just standing here.”

“I swear cha-“

“Most of the tribe died protecting Din. We need to talk.”

Tag List: @mapplestrudel @cannedsoupsucks

Cabur Taglist: @computeringturtle @the-lady-of-stars @mrsdaamneron @janelongxox

[fett-djarin]

Hand to Hand Practice

helo its another Paz Vizsla x f!reader!

MINORS DNI

Crossposted to AO3

Rating: 18+

Length: 2.2k

Warnings/Tags: SMUT, sparring, rough sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, PiV, creampie, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), slight spanking, somewhat of a size kink? Please let me know if I missed anything!

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

Thump.

Your back hit the floor. The breath was knocked from your lungs from the impact. That bastard--he threw me!

“Come on girl, that’s the best you’ve got?” Paz taunted you from a few feet away. You huffed, swiping a hand across your forehead to wipe away the sweat that dripped from your temples.

“You know I can’t throw you around, Paz,” you snapped back at him, glaring venom at the ceiling. His amused chuckle crackled through the vocoder. The dark T-visor of his helm appeared above you, looking down at your prone form. Paz held a hand out for you to take. His palm dwarfed yours, and he pulled you to your feet with seemingly no effort.

You groaned, feeling your spine pop as you stretched. Paz moved back to his spot. He bent his knees, crouching slightly and distributing his weight in a defensive stance. He beckoned you forward with a curl of his fingers. “Again.”

There wasn’t much room to spar in his ship, so Paz had shoved everything not bolted down to the sides and tossed a few heavy blankets on the floor in place of a mat to spare you from being thrown straight onto metal. Because you were thrown. Quite often. Paz let you get a few hits in before bodily lifting you and ending your assault. You were a good shot with a blaster, one of the best--you were hardly ever in close-quarters combat. You knew the basics, but hardly ever used them or practiced. One bounty got too close for comfort, and you sported a new scar on your arm because of it. After it healed, you asked Paz to practice with you, maybe teach you some new maneuvers.

And to teach you, the big Mandalorian challenged you to take him down. You couldn’t knock him off his feet, he easily weighed over 300 pounds with his armor on. Trying to get him to move was like barreling into a tree. The best you could hope for was to outmatch him in speed, and not let him pick you up.

You shook out your arms, bouncing on the balls of your feet. Paz had taken his beskar off--save for the helmet--so he was only in his padded armor and you wouldn’t break your knuckles throwing punches. He cocked his head, and you knew he had a smug smirk on his face, waiting for you to launch yourself at him again. You moved.

You dodged the swipe he took at you, instead landing a hit of your own on his side. Paz was unfazed. He laughed, making another grab at you, which you danced back to avoid. The two of you circled each other--you, waiting for an opening; him, countering every movement.  The next time you darted in for a swing, Paz grabbed your arm. He easily twisted you and had you pinned. You struggled against him knowing it would do you no good.

His hand settled at the base of your throat--not squeezing, just lightly resting there. You froze like a spooked tooka as a bright spark of pure arousal settled in your core. Oh, Maker…. He knew exactly what to do to have such an effect on you. Paz was so big--his hand was so big, dwarfing the delicate line of your neck. If he applied the slightest bit of pressure you would probably melt into the floor and then wither away from embarrassment. You wouldn’t be able to bear looking him in the face--visor? ever again. His thumb traced a light line over your collarbone. Heat flooded your face and you swallowed thickly.

“I win,” his rumbling voice murmured right by your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You steeled yourself, shaking off your feelings and stomping them out of your mind. “Again.” Then his arms tightened, drawing you back against his chest. Something thick and hard pressed against your lower back and you squirmed, pulling a groan from him.

Of course, sparring got him hard. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t work you up too.

“One more round,” you insisted. You ‘accidentally’ pushed your hips back against his erection as you squirmed out of his arms. Paz grunted, letting you go. You didn’t expect to win this round, even with his new distraction, but you didn’t want to. If you worked him up enough, maybe he’d snap. The thought of what he would do sent a delicious shiver down your spine.

You readied your stance. Paz did not pull his punches, not that you expected him to anyway. This was a game to him. He did manage to surprise you, though. For as big as he was, he could be fast. You had just ducked out of his reach when you felt him grasp your hips, and then you found yourself on your stomach, fall cushioned by the blankets. His weight settled on the back of your thighs. You couldn’t even twist to try and throw him off balance--he had you pinned.

He slowly leaned down, resting his weight on his forearms on either side of your head, caging you in. “Did you even try that time?” His fingers traced down your spine, then the warmth of his hand slid up under your shirt, teasing your skin. “Or did you just want this?” and he rolled his hips for emphasis, grinding himself against your ass and making you gasp.

When you didn’t answer, he chuckled. “Yeah. I thought so.”

His hands continued to skim up your sides, each touch building warmth in you. When you wriggled and whined, he paused. “D’you want this off, baby?” he asked with a light tug on your shirt.

“Please,” you breathed. Paz chuckled, then guided your shirt up and over your head. Your bindings followed shortly thereafter. He traced a finger down your spine, making you shudder. You tried to subtly press your thighs together to take the edge off, but from his seat on your legs, Paz felt your muscles tense. He tutted, rubbing his fingers over your clothed pussy, the barest hint of pressure making you all the more desperate.

His fingers hooked in the band of your pants and tugged lightly. His weight shifted off you and you lifted your hips to help him pull your pants and panties down, leaving you bare beneath him.

“Look at you,” he rumbled, palming your ass. “Pretty girl.” The gentle smack against your flesh made you gasp. You shifted your hips back against him, trying to entice him to move his touch to where you were wet and warm and dripping for him. Paz was a tease, but he was also not the most patient man. His fingers dipped down to your heat, rubbing light circles over your clit before pulling back to tease your entrance. Then he pulled away.

Your confused noise cut off as the warm glide of his tongue swiped through your folds from behind. A wanton moan left your mouth as your hips arched up, off the blankets piled on the floor, trying to grind back against his face. Paz’s big hands spread you apart, holding you open for him as he explored you with his tongue. Each lick, suck, and kiss was a warm wave of pleasure suffusing through you, building until you were squirming against his hold.

“Paz, Paz, please--” you choked out, teetering on the edge. He wouldn’t give you that last little push you needed to reach your high. You moaned, hips bucking against his hold, desperate for the final bit of stimulation your body craved. Paz held you steady, giving you pleasure as he saw fit.

“Cum on my mouth, pretty,” his voice, deep and gravelly and not filtered by the modulator, sent an extra spike of pleasure through you. His lips wrapped around your clit and he hummed, the little vibrations doing enough to coax you into orgasm. You weren’t bowled over by sensation as you sometimes were; instead, this orgasm was a slow, thick, rolling wave of heat spilling through you, spreading through your limbs and leaving you loose and boneless.

You just knew Paz had a self-satisfied smirk on his face seeing you blissed out and jelly-limbed on the floor of his ship. You hummed as his weight settled over the back of your thighs once more, the rough canvas of his pants dragging against your sensitive skin. He didn’t strip, instead opting to pull his cock from the confines of his clothing.

The thick length of Paz’s cock rested on the cleft of your ass. He groaned at the sight, your plush rear and the peek of your dripping pussy from between your thighs, his cock nestled between your cheeks, showing just how deep he would reach sheathed inside you. You tried wiggling your hips, enticing him to fuck you, but the steady weight of him on your thighs and his hands on your waist held you in place.

“This what you wanted? You didn’t wanna train--y’wanted to get fucked,” he punctuated his words with a thrust, grinding his cock against you.

“Yes, yes, fuck me--please, Paz, want you--” you babbled, hands fisting in the blankets beneath you. You rocked your hips against him. Paz’s breathing stuttered, and then he was spreading you open to watch as he sank his thick cock into your wet heat.

The press of the head of his cock had you gasping into the blankets, and then as he buried himself inch-by-inch, you couldn’t stop the little moans and whines that left you. You tried to relax your muscles, taking as much of him as you could, but your cunt spasmed around the intrusion. He grunted behind you, feeling your walls flutter around him as they stretched to accommodate his length. When his hips touched your ass, you shuddered, stuffed to your limit, the ache turning into a pleasant warmth licking at your core.

Paz rocked his hips slowly, only sliding an inch or so out before thrusting back in, and you clawed at the floor. You lifted your hips to the best of your ability, pushing yourself back against each thrust. He started slow--every time was like the first time, you were so tight around him, especially in this position. He didn’t want to hurt you--not in a way you didn’t ask for.

He squeezed your ass, massaging your hips and tugging you flush against him. He stopped moving, holding himself still while encouraging you to roll your hips against him. "That's it, baby, fuck yourself on my cock,” his voice was rough and dark, sending shivers through you. You whined, driving yourself back harder, desperate for more stimulation. You squeaked, trailing off into a moan as his hand cracked against the plump flesh of your ass. “You want more? Needy thing.”

He fucked you, and when Paz fucks, you’re gonna feel it for days. His hips pounded down into yours, each thrust sheathing his cock deep in your core and driving against that spot inside you that made you clench around him. Raw pleasure shot through you like unrefined electricity, burning bright along every nerve. Your toes curled in the blankets beneath you. The muffled sound of his clothed pelvis meeting your bare skin, mixed with the wet noise of your arousal, filled the ship. Each brutal snap of his thrusts drove you closer and closer to the edge, breathless moans torn from deep in your chest. The walls of your cunt fluttered around him, strangling his cock.

“Gonna cum for me, pretty baby?” When you didn’t answer, one of his hands wrapped around your jaw, tilting your head back and forcing your back into an arch. The angle made him spear even deeper into you and you nearly squealed. “I asked you a question.”

“F-fuck, yes, please, please, please--”

He shoved his hand between your hip and the floor, wrapping around your front so his big fingers could rub circles over your clit while he continued to fuck into you. He pressed demandingly at your clit and your legs trembled while you grasped desperately at anything within your reach to ground yourself, unaware of how loud your moans had grown. The dam of your orgasm finally broke, and you soaked his cock and the blanket beneath you as you came. Devastating waves of pleasure rocked through you and you clenched helplessly around his cock as he fucked you through it, his fingers continuing to tease your clit and making you jerk in his hold.

The tight, hot clamp of your cunt around his length had Paz following shortly behind you. Half a dozen shallow but firm thrusts, and he came with a rumbling groan as he sheathed himself inside you.

You trembled beneath him, flushed and sweaty and so, so deliciously boneless from the intensity of your orgasm. Paz gently pulled out, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your back. You whimpered at the loss of his warmth, the comforting weight of him on your body.

“Easy,” he murmured. “‘M right here.” He would have laid down beside you, except the floor wasn’t the most comfortable, even with the blankets he had thrown on it--so instead he maneuvered you into his arms and lifted you with ease before placing you in his bunk. He quickly stripped off his heavier clothes before crawling in next to you and wrapping you in his arms. You curled into his chest, legs resting on either side of his.

Tentatively, you rocked your hips, the slickness of your combined releases dripping from you easing your motion. Paz squeezed your thigh in question and in warning. You grinned devilishly up at him.

“One more round?”

[lilhawkeye3]

Paz and 4?

4. Awkward kiss • from this prompt list

Paz Vizsla x Reader • prompt masterlist

———————

The ship was pitch black this late in the night cycle. At the moment, you were glad for it. The heater had gone out once again— you were not looking forward to having to fix it when you landed— so Paz had wordlessly led you to his cot and slid under the sheets with you, pressing your bodies together to share some warmth in the cold of space. It was necessary for survival and you both knew that.

But now…

You couldn’t help how flushed your entire body was when you awoke with a gasp in the middle of the night. Paz’s arms were wrapped around your waist, anchoring your chest to his, and his tense thigh had wedged its way between your legs. You did your best to ignore your body’s reactions to the position you’d found yourself in, so of course your brain decided to instead notice the warm puffs of breath that brushed over your face every few moments.

Oh stars, you could feel Paz’s breath. Where was his helmet?

Even though it was completely dark, you squeezed your eyes shut again. You didn’t want to take the chance that your eyes would adjust and allow you to see the outlines of his face. You were both warm now; perhaps it would be best for you to find your way to the cockpit and wait until Paz was awake and helmeted once again.

No such luck— your gentle shifting while you tried to free yourself seemed to have roused Paz from his slumber.

“Mesh’la? What’re doin’?”

Hell, his lips were much closer to yours than you’d realized. You froze up for a moment and the hesitation has Paz holding you tighter to him.

“I… uh, I was going to go to the cockpit so you could sleep without your helmet,” you muttered sheepishly at being caught.

Paz huffed out a soft chuckle. “It’s fine. Go back to sleep, mesh’la.”

You sighed and nodded before remembering he couldn’t see you. Acting on impulse, you leaned in, hoping to show your thanks by leaving a quick peck on his cheek.

You’d forgotten that the dark meant you also couldn’t see. Your heart nearly gave out when you felt your lips press against something soft and warm, but definitely not the stubbled or bearded cheek you’d been expecting.

Paz clearly hadn’t expected your lips on his either, because he was a still statue under your touch. Face flaming in embarrassment, you pulled back quickly and tried to hide your face in his chest with a muffled apology.

“That… wasn’t what I expected, but I’m certainly not complaining,” Paz rumbled in a lower voice than before. You felt his lips find you once more, this time to leave a chaste kiss on the crown of your head. “We’ll save next time for the morning when we’re both awake, yeah?”

He couldn’t see your smile, but you hoped the way you nodded against him and clutched him tighter to you was answer enough.

[huxs-waifu]

Masterlist

** contains smut 

18+ - fiction which is adult and with heavy themes

G - sfw- GENERAL audiences

Star Wars universe 

Hux

Star wars fairy tales - sleeping beauty  G-rated

Grease Monkey - Gn!reader x hux G rated

of tea and timings  **- Hux x F!reader regency au (A03) G-rated

Braided ** Hux x F!Reader 18+

Paz vizla

Blushing little flower(plus sized reader) ** 18+

Kylo

Shifted Masterlist **- ongoing Kylo x reader 18+

MCU

Dr strange

10,000 nights Masterlist ** - Dr strange x Diabetic!ofc 18+

Exactly what I predicted** 18+

Bucky Barns

Bucky x reader - moulin rouge inspired au   G-rated

Loki 

Corrupted - Slytherin!loki x gn!reader  g-rated

BBC ghosts (all my ghost stories will be G-rated)

Humphrey 

Saint like  (humpfrey x f!oc)

Real stand up guy - part 2 of saint like  (written pre series 3)

Don't tell the brides maid - part 3 - coming soon 

The broken cupboard - school au 

Harry Potter 

Remus lupin

smelling sweet (GN!diabetic reader) G-rated

Bill Weasley 

million times over** (bill x reader) AO3 18+

Pokemon 

maxie (team magma)

just skip to dessert ** ( maxie x adult villian oc) 18+ AO3

One Piece

Mihawk

The flower and feather - coming soon

HEADCANNONS and RANDOM SPOTIFY SONGS 

Random Spotify Songs - Star Wars Men 

more on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vintage_Beast

[bobafetts-princess]

The Hunters and the Hunted (Chapter 2)

Pairings: Din Djarin x Reader x Boba Fett x Paz Vizsla (no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: This is dead filth y’all. Creampie, throat fucking, choking, dirty talk, a little aftercare, fingering, oral (fem receiving) I think that’s all??? Idk lemme know if I missed something!

A/N: Yaaaa this is trash bc I am trash! I live by the fancast Winston Duke as Paz! If y’all are interested in a chapter 3, let me know! I hope you like this ❤️

Find Chapter 1 here!

“I thought Mandalorians couldn’t remove their helmets?” You questioned, once Boba punched in the coordinates.

“We can’t,” Paz and Din answered simultaneously.

“I’m not a Mandalorian, the armor belonged to my father,” Boba supplied, spinning in his chair to face you, now that the ship was in space. “Now how about that kiss?” He said, fixing you with a wicked grin and mischievous eyes.

Rolling your own eyes, you unbuckled and stood, crossing the small cockpit and leaned in, capturing his lips with your own in a soft kiss. Boba’s hands came up to cup your face, deepening the kiss just slightly before pulling away and slapping you on the ass lightly.

“Go freshen up. My quarters are down the hall and to the left. There’s a fresher in the back and I’ll grab you some clothes.” He said, nodding down the same hall they walked down when they placed you in the cell.

You nodded, stopping to kiss the helmets of both Paz and Din, with the former gripping you by the hips and the latter grabbing the outsides of your thighs. You whispered a thank you to them both, garnering a small nod before you walked where Boba had pointed you.

You took your time in the fresher, washing down your body with the soap Boba had in there. It smelled masculine and slightly spicy and you took a deep inhale with every pass over your body. You soaked under the warm spray, letting the stressful events of the day wash off of you. You were free, you could do whatever you wanted. You could settle down, explore the galaxy, live a life. Smiling, you turned off the water, finding clothes just outside of the fresher door for you and you pulled them on. They were tighter than your usual clothes, forming to your body in the best way. You turned in the mirror admiring the way the trousers clung to your hips and ass. The tunic was low cut, showing off your collarbones and neck. Making your way back to the cockpit, you noticed there was food and water sitting in the spare seat.

“The clothes fit! Here I was worrying they would be too small.” Boba said, but the glint in his eyes made you think that’s exactly what he was hoping for.

“My partner in crime,” and you felt like he meant that literally, “Fennec is about the same size as yourself, so I snatched some clothes she left here.”

“There’s food and water, you haven’t eaten since this morning so I’m sure you’re hungry.” Din remarked and you sat down, eating and basking in the comfortable silence.

“So where are we going?” You prompted after you finished your food, settling down in the chair.

“Well Tattooine first, make sure there’s no one tailing us, and then you’re free to go wherever you want, Princess.” Boba said, sunk down in his chair.

“Is that where you live?”

“Yes, I have control of the Hutt compound and we’ll be safe there.” You hoped safe for forever, honestly. “Now, the ship is on autopilot and I’m going to lay down. An old man needs his rest. Are you planning on joining me, little one?” He said, standing and leaning against his captains chair, giving you a sly wink. You took a second to appreciate his strong, thick build. Smaller than Paz but thicker than Din, he was definitely a looker. Then you realized what he asked and your mouth dropped.

“Boba.” Came the sharp bark from Din.

“Don’t be a downer, Mandalorian. You should have felt her kiss me, I don’t think she’d opposed to spending the night in my bed.” You flushed because he wasn’t wrong but you also got the distinct impression that they discussed this while you were showering and changing. Din turned to you speaking softly.

“You don’t have to, we don’t expect this from you because we helped you get away.”

Nodding, you turned towards Paz, who had yet to speak, but you weren’t really sure what you planned on saying.

“Don’t look at me, pretty girl. I wouldn’t turn down having you in my bed for the night either. But I would never make you warm my bed or my cock.” His words shot through you and you swallowed thickly.

“How about you, Mando?” You asked, using the nickname Boba had used.

“How about me what?”

“Don’t play stupid, you know what I’m asking.” You snapped, a quick flash of bravado under stress.

He sighed heavily, answering you.

“Of course I wouldn’t be opposed to you spending the night in my bed, but I do not expect it of you.”

“So you all want to sleep with me?” You asked, looking at all three men in turn as they nodded. You sat back, taking this moment in, knowing you would never get the opportunity to do something like this again, so you blurted the words out before you could regret them. “Would you all like to sleep with me tonight?” There was a sharp intake of breath as they considered your words.

“You mean, watch you get stuffed full of cock?” Boba said, voicing your thoughts. “I’ll never turn down a pretty girl wanting to take cock.” Din simply nodded and Paz was already palming himself at the thought.

“I guess that answers my question, so uhh, who wants to start?” To your surprise, Din moved first, picking you up and taking large paces towards Boba’s quarters. You heard the shuffling of feet and thought the other two were following close behind, confirmed when Din dumped you on the bed and three figures loomed over you. Boba moved first, crushing your mouth in a searing kiss as other hands worked off your trousers and underclothes, spreading your thighs.

“Do you have an implant?” Din asked.

“Yes!” You told them and two gloved fingers swiped through your folds before circling your clit in short, rapid strokes. Boba’s tongue tangled with yours, breaking the kiss only to remove your tunic and bindings. His ungloved fingers found your nipples, tweaking them into stiff peaks. One gloved finger found its way into your slicked entrance and you arched at the feeling.

Paz’s helmet appeared near your shoulder, speaking lowly in your ear.

“If that feels good, pretty girl, imagine how good our cocks will feel in you.” A groan rose in your throat at his words and the finger in your pussy started moving slowly. Boba’s lips left yours, moving down your neck as the finger inside you pulled out. You whined, reaching for some sort of friction but the explanation came quick.

“Want to feel you, mesh’la.” Dins modulated voice said, strained from arousal. He shifted to pull of his gloves before sinking a finger back into you.

“What does that mean? Mesh’la? You keep saying it and I don’t know what it means.” You panted, Boba’s lips biting a trail to one nipple as Paz’s fingers tortured the other.

“It means beautiful in our native tongue.” Paz explained, shifting to pull off his gloves as well, pulling a nipple taut between his large fingers. Your breath was coming in pants, between Boba’s teeth, Paz’s fingers, and Din sinking two fingers into your core, you were quickly coming undone.

“Don’t make her come yet.” Boba barked and you actually whined. “Want her to come on my tongue. Now move, let me taste.” He snapped at them, voice demanding. “Sit in the chairs and watch.” He instructed and the two Mandalorians grudgingly obliged. They plopped into chairs that had been pulled up next to the bed, and pulled their hard cocks out of their trousers.

“Now, Princess, let me give you what they can’t.” He said, kissing and nipping his way down your body, taking time to soothe over your bruises and leaving you panting for more. He finally settled between your thighs, broad shoulders opening you wide. He sunk his teeth into the soft skin of your inner thigh and you arched, hands finding your own breasts. You peaked your nipples and the seated hunters groaned watching you, hands stroking themselves.

Boba tormented you, ghosting over your center, hot breath teasing. Without warning, he dove into your pussy face first, his hot tongue licking and torturing. A low, heady moan ripped from your throat and you threw your head back into the bed and Boba stopped.

“Look at me while I eat your pussy, Princess, I want to watch you come undone.” His words shot straight through your core, and you sat up on your elbows to watch him. He leaned back in as soon as you did, tongue swirling around your clit and two thick fingers thrust into you, starting a slow, toe-curling, deliberate pace. Your moans got louder as you got closer and Boba stroked that spot inside you relentlessly.

“You gonna come, pretty girl?” Paz grunted, hand stroking an impressive length. A whiny yes left your throat and Boba added a third finger at the same time as he sucked on your clit and you snapped. You gushed around him, screaming your release as you watched him lap up everything you gave. He crawled up your body, mouths meeting in a clash of teeth and tongues as his cock brushed against you and you tasted yourself on his lips.

“Ready to take me babygirl?” You nodded, grinding for more friction.

“Why do you get to fuck her first?” Din sneered, hand pumping.

“Because I made her come first.” Boba answered simply, sitting back on his heels and pulling your hips towards him. Din mumbled something about not having the chance but otherwise kept quiet. Boba started pushing in, his thickness stretching you deliciously.

“Been a while baby girl? You’re so fucking tight.” You nodded, focusing as he sank in inch by deliciously thick inch until he was fully seated inside you and you both groaned at the fullness. He wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you to him and shuffling on the bed, gently laying you back down with your head hanging off so you were looking upside down at the two Mandalorians stroking themselves.

“Want to take cock from both ends, Princess?” He asked and you nodded as Din rose from his position and stepped up to you. His cock was longer than Boba’s, but not as thick and you knew it would be a challenge to take him down your throat. Boba began to pull out as Din began to push in, equally as slow.

“Ready Princess? I’m not gonna be gentle.”

Boba warned after pulling out and pushing in a few times, helping your walls stretch. You couldn’t answer though, you had a mouthful of Mandalorian cock so your hand traveled down your body, hitting tight circles on your clit as a response. You heard a low growl and you transcended into another realm of pleasure as Boba let loose. His pace was rough and precise, he knew exactly the way to angle himself to pleasure you most.

Din was much more gentle, your throat not as forgiving as your pussy, but he still pushed your limits. You could just barely see Paz, the brown skin of his hands stroking himself and his visor locked on your face. You started moving against Din, following his strokes and taking him deeper each time. Saliva began to drip from your mouth when Din pulled out, and your face was covered in it. Boba’s strokes, long, rough, and deep, hit a spot inside of you that would have had you screaming if you weren’t otherwise entrenched.

His fingers traveled the length of your body, groping your breasts and pinching your nipples, before laying a sharp slap to them both. You arched, groaning deeply around the cock in your throat.

You heard a low curse from above you and knew it was Din, who was softly rubbing your throat. You could only imagine what he was seeing, stretched out and stuffed from both ends. You wondered what your throat looked like from his angle, bulging around him and your eyes closed in bliss at the idea. Your body relaxed, and you became nothing more than a glorified cock-sleeve, but you felt that slow burn in your belly as another orgasm approached.

Din and Boba took and took from your body, but expert fingers swirled tight, precise, harsh, circles around your clit and you felt your body tighten as you got closer. They both bottomed out at the same time, Boba hitting that spot that made you see stars and the taut chain snapped. You came hard, a scream deep in your throat. You hummed around Din as you came down, deliriously happy. Boba buried himself to the hilt moments later and spilled inside you, soft curses dropping from his mouth.

He gently pulled out at the same time Din did and you knew you were wrecked, face covered in your own saliva. Soft hands gripped the back of your head, helping you up gently and you cracked an eye to see Boba standing there with a wet rag to wipe you off with, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

“Don’t. I like her like this.” Came the sharp command as Din set you onto your knees, facing Paz and Boba. Din lined himself up with your entrance, pushing in slowly until he was seated fully.

“Pussy feels good mesh’la.” He grunted, starting a brutal pace that had you gasping, eyes closed as your own spit dried on your face. His fingers threaded through your hair, pulling your head back as his hips snapped into you. Soft moans dropped from your lips, punctuated by whispers of his name as you came close to the edge again. Suddenly you were hauled up against him, cold bite of beskar on your back as his fingers gripped your chin.

“You should see yourself, mesh’la. All fucked out for us. You like this, don’t you? Being used by us to get off?” His words hit deep inside your core and you whimpered a yes. The hand that wasn’t gripping your chin traveled down your body, circling your clit. You had been close, but those calloused fingers and dirty words pushed you over the edge and you came, hard. Din growled, shoving you back down into the bed as his hips snapped into yours and his modulated voice growled dirty promises. He laid a sharp smack to each cheek and then buried deep inside you, mixing his release with Bobas.

Soft hands rolled you onto your back, cupping your face before wiping it with something warm. Once your eyes were clean, you opened them to see Paz’s visor looking down on you.

“Like to see you ruined like this mesh’la, but I want to watch your eyes roll back into your head when I make you cum.” You sighed at his words while he maneuvered you to a position he liked. He laid one large palm on your inner thigh, pinning it against the bed and hooking the other leg over his shoulder as he began pushing into you. Even after the bed acrobatics that had already been performed, he was so large that he still stretched you. The hand that wasn’t pinning you to the bed wrapped around your rib cage, right underneath your breasts as he started this slow, devastating pace.

He hit all the right spots inside of you, brushing over the spot that made you see stars every time he thrust in. The slow pace burned your body up and you were sitting on the precipice of another orgasm before you knew it. His pace sped only marginally as he felt you fluttering around him and the hand around your ribs moved to your throat. The hand pinning you to the bed moved to circle your clit and your breath was coming in hard gasps.

“Next time we’ll split you on our cocks, stuffing you full from all angles. Would you like that, pretty girl?” A panted yes left your lips as you clenched harder around him.

“You gonna come, mesh’la?” He grunted and you whimpered a yes.

“Then beg.” His words took a moment to sink in and in that moment he tightened the grip around your throat.

“Please.” Came the weak plea from your throat and his hand tightened again. “Please Paz.” You begged, slightly stronger this time, but it wasn’t enough for him as his fingers tightened again. It finally clicked that he wanted you to really beg for it, so you did. Strong whimpered pleas kept his fingers tight, while weak pleas caused him to tighten again.

“Please, Paz. I’ll be so good Paz, please let me come for you. I want to come all over your big cock while you fuck me, please.” Your voice was hoarse and his hand was tight enough that you were starting to see spots behind your eyes. Your fingers scrabbled up his arm, nails digging into the soft skin on the inside of his biceps.

“Cum.” Came the short growl and you did, eyes rolling back in your head. Your vison burst with colors before going momentarily black as your dripping cunt choked his cock with the same force that his hand was choking your throat. You faintly heard a roar and then Paz’s cock touched places inside of you that no one had before as he released into you. His hand released the pressure and you found yourself floating emotionally as you came down from your high. He stroked lightly, helmet near your ear whispering praises about what a good girl you were. Once you were fully back with the living you had one simple remark.

“Wow.”

And you heard the rumble of laughs from all three men, two modulated and one clear chuckle. You moved to stand on jelly legs, but Boba’s voice stopped you.

“Where ya going, little one? I said I wanted you to warm my cock and my bed.” You looked up to see him laying in the center of the large bed, dressed in underclothes and a loose tunic.

“C’mere.” He instructed to you and you couldn’t help but obey him.

Crawling up the length of the bed, you snuggled into his waiting arms and stifled a groan at the heat radiating from him. You threw a leg over his hips and he rubbed a comforting hand down your back. He turned and told the Mandalorians to get comfortable, the bed was big enough for everyone. You heard the clanking of armor and then the bed dipped behind you as Din’s hand gripped at your hips and his beskar helmet bit into the skin of your shoulder.

“You did good baby girl.” He cooed and you basked into the praise. You felt a hand curl around the calf thrown lazily over Boba and lifted your head slightly to see Paz laying down, chest still heaving from his efforts. Lips found your hair and a rough timbre reached your ears.

“Get some sleep, Princess, we’ll go for round two in the morning.” Paz promised softly and you nodded, falling into a deep slumber as soon as he finished his sentence.

Tags: @tibbietibbs @keeper-of-the-sarlacc-pit @jedi-and-clones @sammiesweet @auty-ren @ahoeformando

Masterlist | Taglist

[jangofctts]

Sink Your Teeth In (Part 2 of Are You In Or Out?)

Rated: Explicit (Paz is in the next chapter DONT WORRY)

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, the cold?, reader is in PERIL YET AGAIN, vaginal fingering, oral female receiving, unprotected vaginal sex (wrap them schlongs yall), brief hand jobs, swearing, angst, very VERY light choking, din is a sub sorta?? bottom energy 

Summary: Well. At least you aren't dead. After a solo hunt gone wrong, you’re dumped in a cave on Csilla. Hopefully someone finds you before you freeze to death.  

a/n: hey…so uh. HOW ABOUT THAT EPISODE HUH?!? aheM anyway--yall I just wanna thank everyone first off for all the love and support!!! I see all of your comments and tags and AH IM SO LUCKY TO HAVE ALL OF YOU GUYS. ALSO SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO @djxrxn​ THIS WOULDNT HAVE BEEN DONE WITHOUT YOU BB GORL

Well—

Here you are. 

Taken by surprise by another bounty, further proving how irrevocably incompetent you are at this line of work. You blame the binders. An older, clunkier model—easy to pick if you’re clever enough and yes. Maybe you should’ve asked to borrow a carbonite chamber, but hey—where’s the fun in that? 

Not much, as it so happens. 

Your feet had been kicked up on the dashboard, dozing and unaware of the freed bounty creeping up behind the pilot’s seat. Something delightfully blunt smashed against your temple, jolting you into a brief conscious state where the only thing you could think before passing out again, was a resounding— 

Oh, fuck me sideways with a fucking lightsaber—

The rest is hazy. A blur of colors and the fuzzy shapes of your bounty’s face sneering in amusement when she bound your wrists and ankles and left you in the cargo hold. Vaguely you recall your ship being commandeered, swung into an unidentified atmosphere and landing on said unknown planet Or planets. Planet hopping to cover up a trail. 

The bitter cold, sharper than a needle through skin is what shook off the last dregs of unconsciousness. The bounty’s hand was hooked into the collar of your clothes, dragging your limp body through drifts of snow and ice. You would’ve fought back—should’ve even though each extremity felt like a numb block of lead. Not very useful in a fight…

Soon, the snow turned to mud and the mud to stone as a mouth of a cave slid over the impossibly blue sky. Dumped in a cave, and left to die—perfect way to bite the dust. Your bounty turned captor lands a sharp kick to your ribs, mouthing some curse in a language you don’t understand, and left without a second thought. 

Seems about right. You have a knack for lying helpless and half dead in places you ought not to be in. 

Two days and counting, you’ve been holed up in this blasted cave with no food, no supplies and no comlink. It’s going be a fucking chore to find you—nearly impossible. You’re lucky in that aspect you guess—you know enough bounty hunters to sniff out a a needle in a whole stack of needles, so all it is is a race of time against the elements and how long it takes for one of them to notice.            

Aeris is no help. He left a day before you had—hired as personal protection for some syndicate leader halfway across the galaxy. Ives is in a similar boat, off-world and unavailable to drag your ass out of the hole you’ve dug. Which leaves…

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose between your forefinger and thumb. Anytime you even think of those two a migraine cumulates behind your eyes. It’s…it’s not like anything bad happened in the aftermath—there’s been no fallout or arguments with barbed words as weapons. It’s been quiet. Like stepping onto a sheet of cracked transparisteel in a library full of tight-lipped academics. 

The questions lurk under the surface of every conversation and longing look cast your way. You’ll need to clarify and sort things out eventually, but fuck—it’s such a mess of frazzled heartstrings and fine strands of impossible thoughts that lead into an endless void of doubt. You’re shoving that emotional time bomb to the very back of your mind—everything is still so raw…  

So you ran. 

Picked up any and all jobs that the Guild provided just to escape the looming decision of confronting a certain pair of Mandalorians. That and with them having their own tasks to complete, it was rare to see them, let alone together in the past few weeks. A simple run in here and there in the halls of the Covert, but you were too busy to stop and chat—forced a chaotic schedule upon yourself as an excuse to avoid staying in once place at a time.    

Coward.

The word knots in your stomach like gnarled tree roots escaping their prison of dark soil on untrodden land.  

Maker—how did everything become so tangled? 

You draw your knees up to your chest and release a long, drawn out exhale that echoes through the cave. You sniff and force the swell of tears that prick at your eyes away. You’re pretty sure they’ll freeze and you’re not hoping to find out. 

The only good thing about being dropped on this Maker-forsaken, wasteland devoid of anything but snow, is the free ice for the nasty gash on your forehead. A nice little parting gift. 

It’s shallow…you think—it stopped bleeding the night before and is now just a scabbed over, tender wound that throbs whenever you move your head too fast. Concussion maybe—a mild one.  

Maker willing when someone finds your sorry ass they’ll have bacta. Or a blanket. Either would be peachy.     

Sitting up with a wince, you shuffle to the mouth of the cave for the thousandth time and scour the skyline for a familiar ship. Or, any ship really. The only thing you do see is a lonesome wisp of cloud against the grayish blue sky much to your chagrin. You scowl and stalk back into your little hovel and slump back onto the ground. 

The hours drag on, the watery light of the dying sun barely doing anything to warm you. Sulking is hardly what you should be doing—not great for the burdened mind and all that, but ah, it’s so fun to wallow in misery. You curl your knees up to your chest and you must slip into a doze because when you’re snapped back into the present, footsteps punch through the frozen tundra outside your cave.  

Adrenaline crackles down your spine—the bounty changed her mind. Ultimately decided she’d be safer in the long run with you dead. Fine.

If this is where your grave is going to be, might as well get in one or two punches. What’s another black eye anyway?

A shadow flickers at the mouth of the cave, curling around the wall as she draws closer. A brown boot kicks through the snow and— 

“Changed your mind? I—“

Your words die on your tongue as relief floods your veins. Din Djarin stands before you, a sight for sore eyes in these trying times. 

Frost glitters on the burgundy chest plate, glinting in the dim sunlight that touches the mouth of the cave. A delicate feathering of the dainty crystals that no high end lace maker could ever hope to mimic curls up the front of Din’s visor and eats away at the edges of his cloak. His heavy step forward reverberates off the walls, some of that ease replaced by the prickle of dread. His silence is unnerving. 

“Din,” you say again, just so he’ll say something. “I can—“

You move to stand, but he interrupts with a halting;

“Sit.”       

Your mouth snaps shut and you drop back on the floor. This…is not good. His footsteps are heavy as he approaches you and every muscle in your frame tightens like a fist wrapping around your ribcage and squeezing. The precise edges of his helmet are not a forgiving sight and even when he kneels onto one knee you have to resist the natural urge to flinch. Like this, despite hunching over, Din is broad. All hard muscle and sinew amplified by the bulky layer of beskar.   

Your tongue runs over the insides of your teeth as you track his hand that he thrusts foreword. You hiss and jerk away at the sudden needly pain when his gloved thumb finds the edges of your head wound. A low sound of disapproval filters out through the helmet in a low metallic buzz. 

“You won’t need stitches,” he says. Din reaches into one of his various supply pouches and pulls out a tiny vile of bacta. He casually pulls off his right glove, unscrews the vile and smears the bacta over his thumb. This time you don’t make a sound, even though your nerves scream at the razor like sensation of his thumb working the bacta into the damaged flesh. He doesn’t ask how the injury happened and you don’t care to tell him. There’s a time and place for stories about battle scars and near misses—it’s much too fresh to be spoken of right now. 

The brief torture finally ends after once last glance over for other presenting injuries. He finds none, replaces his glove and stands with a muted grunt. You know what’s next. You’d rather avoid it—you aren’t keen on the berating lectures—as deserved as they are.      

“I found your ship on Sato 3,” Din begins with a growl. “Imagine my surprise when I found your bounty selling it for parts.”  

Ah, there it is. You wince and study your fingernails. “Pile of junk anyway…”

“I thought you’d be smarter about these things,” he snarls, his sharp tone deadly enough to slice through bone. “Was the hole blown into your lung not enough for you?”

You swallow and bite your tongue.  

The bristling Mandalorian, continues and jabs an orange tipped finger at you. “You are reckless.”

Your chest constricts as you look away, shame blooming in the pit of your stomach.This is a new facet of Din you’ve never encountered. You aren’t naïve—even the most docile of people can harbor a temper, you know that. And you know Din is by no means passive—he’s an elite warrior equipped with a small arsenal at his disposal. You don’t expect him to coddle you or treat you different than any other companion; but…but it’s hard not to take his ire to heart. Not when it’s the kind of anger that boils deep in your chest and erupts with molten streams that leaves scathing wounds and blistered feelings.  

You chew your lip hard enough to taste blood and avoid his piercing gaze. You think if you do you might catch fire and burn to a crisp. “I’m sorry.”   

The meek apology settles in the air like a heavy fog. Din’s anger still brews, looming and dark but he reigns in his temper and switches out the searing cadence of his words with chilly informality. You’re not sure which is worse.   

“No more bounties.” 

“What?” Your brows knit together. The fuck does he mean.  

“No more hunts alone—“  

You interrupt with a scoff. “You’re grounding me?”

He strides across the small space and plants himself on the opposing wall. “Until you’re competent enough, you have no business being out in the field. You might as well be bait at this point.” 

“Competent.” You echo through clenched teeth.  

His helmet dips, leveling a steady glare of indifference. “The Crest is a half cycle’s walk from here. In the morning I’m taking you back to Nevarro.”   

“I’m not a child. You can’t just,” you throw your hands up in dismay, “ban me from bounty hunting.”    

Din’s armor clinks together as he moves to sit. He rests one elbow on his propped up knee, extends his other and rolls his helmet to meet your eyes. “Your actions reflect the Covert now. We can’t risk discovery because of one stupid mistake or a careless loose end.”    

That hadn’t even crossed your mind. Stars, you want to smack yourself. Your ship, as shitty as it was, hosted a good chunk of sensitive information, all encrypted and translated into binary. A mediocre slicer could hack through it in hours. Not exactly foolproof but hey, at least you had something. Good thing your bounty wasn’t in the market of selling stolen ships to the Empire. 

“Din?”

The Mandalorian makes no noise of affirmation that he heard you. You sigh and take his silence as a go ahead and clear your throat. “How long was I gone for?”

Here, in the cave it’s been nearly three days, but the rest of it you’re not exactly sure. Hunting the bounty down took up at least a week or two and even longer to capture her and there’s no accounting for the time lost after your ship was commandeered. Your teeth roll over your bottom lip as you wait for him to respond. 

“Almost two months.” He replies evenly. “Your transmissions were cut three weeks ago and I didn’t think anything of it. Comms are always patchy in Wild Space."

Leather creaks as his fist balls at his side. “You didn’t answer for days. Paz and I tracked the ship to Sato 3, but you weren’t there. Do you know how difficult it was to pick through all the planets recorded on your log?”

You blink and return to picking at your fingernails. 

“You weren’t easy to find, I—“ He severs the rest of his sentence with a crackling sigh and tilts his head back. “You’re lucky.”    

The hesitance lacing his words makes you bite your tongue, the snarky retort crumbling to ash in your mouth. Din doesn’t bother to filter his words—he’s blunt. Efficient and to the point when he does decide to speak. That…well that was different.   

He was worried—

You rub at your cheek—numb with the cold and curl into yourself. Din was worried. Easily the most feared bounty hunter in the parsec, worried that he couldn’t find you.   

A different cold—one that settles deep into the marrow of your bones and hugs your soul with a sheet of frost, makes a home in your heart. The severity of what could’ve happened replaces that sheen of hilarity and fuck. You were closer to freezing to death than Din finding you here—alone in some stupid kriffing cave.  

Somehow the idea of that is worse than the brief brush of eternal slumber you had on Nar Shaddaa. Up to that point you expected to die young—no harm and no foul in it either. You had no attachments, no debt to pay—a drifter in an endless galaxy.    

Now you’re here, buckling under the weight of mismanaged friendships and your uncanny skill at weaseling into any and all trouble. 

Neither you or Din jump to fill the silence. The ashes of disaster settle in nicely with the frozen echo of an endless winter.      

It’d been a couple hours shy from sunset when Din arrived, the sun providing weak light that hardly touched the mouth of the cave. Now as the shadows grow longer and with the temperature dropping, the two of you are swallowed up by the unyielding darkness of night. 

Din shuffles and fishes out the solar light from his supply bag. It clicks on and warm, orange light illuminates the cave. It bounces off his beskar, fracturing the light like a million tiny suns in the tempered metal and in the impossibly dark visor. He looks up, and tosses the light over. 

You catch it easily and despite the warmness of the light it emits, it offers no heat for your chilled fingers. You set it to the side and tuck your hands into your armpits. 

By no means is the cave warm—the natural thermal vents kept the ground dry and free of the ice and snow that rages outside, but it doesn’t protect you from the occasion chilly draft that cuts through each layer you wear. Then again, you weren’t planning on taking an unexpected vacation on Csilla. No time to plan really.  

You sigh and pull your knees up to your chest and cast a glance at your ever radiant ray of sunshine across from you.  

He looks nice and cozy—leaned back against the cave wall, one leg crossed over the other while his hands sit intertwined just below his navel. The beskar must provide insulation—maybe a fancy heater in that bucket of his, or maybe he’s just too stubborn to show anything other than indifference.   

Another bout of shivers tear through your frame and you’re certain Din can hear the enamel of your teeth clack together. You shove your hands deeper into your armpits and tuck your chin into your chest to preserve heat and pray that sleep isn’t far off—can’t be cold if you’re unconscious.    

Metal scrapes over stone as Din readjusts himself and you can feel him looking at you. It’s not a terrible weight to bear; intense and analytic, sure and in the past it would’ve unnerved you. Now, instead of it feeling like he were peeling back each fibre of your soul each time he stares, it’s familiar. A pattern of sorts—

It happens each time Din wrestles with an uncertain question. He deals in absolutes, and it’s no surprise he rarely knows what to say to you. 

“You’re shivering,” he states. You roll your eyes. “Are you cold?”

“Boiling, actually,” you snip. “Why else would I forget a jacket?”

A sharp hiss of air crackles through the vocoder. “Don’t get mouthy with me. It was a simple question.”

“Well—there’s not much to do about it,” you sneer, watching your breath condensate in the air. “I’m freezing, exhausted, and hungry.”       

You know you’re being snide—but your nerves feel like they’ve been severed at the root with a dull vibroblade. You have neither the time nor energy to spare for simple questions. Din should understand that—seeing as he’s a man familiar with short temperament.

The space between you is ripe with crackling tension, and maybe—if you weren’t so fucking cold—you’d play the mediator. Thread stitches into the gash you both sliced into your friendship, as small it may be. You’ve lost friends over less—this could end up no different.

You sigh and turn your head. This is a problem for tomorrow. 

Irritated and upset, you squeeze your eyes shut and chase after sleep. You slip in a doze faster than expected, any and all discomfort fading away a you toe the line between a deeper sleep and waking dreams. You think you imagined Din saying your name—Maker you can’t even escape him in your own fucking head—  

It doesn’t end—like a nagging buzz that swells until it’s right near your ear. Spite spurs you to ignore It and exhaustion convinces you to drift further away. That is, until a hand, gentle and warm curls around your shoulder. You once again hear your name rumble low through Din’s helmet, but it’s much too difficult to open your eyes. Why can’t he leave you be? You barely feel the cold now…

“Stay awake.” Din sounds distant, in some other plane of existence despite the steady hold he has on your arm. “Maker—you’re colder than kriffing ice.” 

“Go away,” you grumble through numb lips. Such a pest.  

He’s talking—but the words don’t make sense. Muddled—split between that hazy line of dreaming and consciousness where you can’t decipher what’s real. His hands however—you can feel those plain as day. A bare palm cups your cheek—shreds through the layer of frost you’re positive has crystalized over your skin and rouses you to a more coherent level of presentness.       

“Don’t quit on me yet—“

“Nah,” you mumble. “I’m hard to…to kill. L-like a scrap rat…”  

Din grunts in response. “Rat is a compliment. You’re more of a spider-roach.”

The ends of your mouth quirk. It’s the best you can do—a full smile just might push you to the brink of death.        

“C’mon—I won’t let either of us freeze,” Din sighs. His fingers find the magnetized latches on his cuirass and it slips off with practiced ease, the armored thigh plating following a moment later. He neatly sets it to the side and grabs his cloak to fasten it around you. With another sigh, Din shuffles in behind you and wraps an arm around your middle, nestling his legs and body snuggly around yours.   

Maker—you don’t have time to bother about the intimacy of this because all you’re drawn to is the furnace like heat. Fuck, he’s so warm. You have only a second to enjoy it before your body begins to thaw—bringing forth waves of achey pain.   

His chest molds to your back, both arms curling over your own arms that are scrunched up tight around your chest. You shake in his hold, vicious waves of cold clashing against his body heat—it hurts—like sticking your bare foot into hot coals.     

You squirm, little gasps of discomfort slipping out that echo around the cave. Din shifts, tucking you further under his body until he’s nearly crushing you. It’s a bit tricky to breathe like this but hey—you’re not complaining. Not when your nose is buried in his soft undershirt that smells purely of Din.   

Your fingers and toes still throb as they thaw, but it’s working. Cuddling Din Djarin to stave off hypothermia—sounds kriffing ridiculous. 

“You’re still shivering,” he says. “I might…”

Your breath catches in your throat as he trails off. “Might what?”

Another shiver wracks through your body as his frosty helmet catches on bare skin when he dips his head in embarrassment. You don’t quite catch what he says and he doesn’t bother to clarify. “Forget it.”  

You turn your head as much as you can, straining your eyes to meet the strip of visor. “Tell me.”

He mumbles under his breath again and cuddles closer, slotting his hips against your ass. “Might know…know another way to keep us warm…”

Oh. 

A spark breathes to life in the pit of your tummy. You wiggle onto your back, your nose brushing the vizor. “Does it involve me taking off my pants?” 

Din huffs, his hands, previously latched onto your hips, starting to crawl up your waist. “It could…”    

You smirk and rock your hips back, eliciting a low growl that rumbles through his chest. With your whine of approval, Din’s hand slips between your legs and gives the meat of your inner thigh a squeeze. You let your knees fall open as far as they can in this position and it’s all Din needs to cup your cunt through the thin material of your trousers. 

Crackling pleasure flood your veins as the heel of his palm grinds into your clit, and while the pressure is nice, it does nothing to satisfy. Only feeds the growing flames of desire with brittle kindling. 

You pull at his undershirt and whimper, thrilled once his deft fingers, calloused and thick unlace your pants and yank far enough down to fit his hand. His fingers trace your outer lips, a ghost of a touch as arousal swells in your stomach. He parts your folds once your wetness begins to dribble out and coats his fingertips with your arousal. 

Stars—you need him. You arch into him and whine. “Touch me. Din, please—“ 

You jerk as Din’s thumb swirls a slow circle over your clit, a rush of endorphins surging out like unrefined fire whiskey. Din’s head tilts to watch you writhe over his fingers and the sudden chill of his helmet touching the inside of your flushed neck steals away your next inhale. Goosebumps race down your entire being, adding to the influx of your excitement that pools in your lower belly.       

Your hands tangle into his undershirt, pulling him closer until you can’t find where he begins and you end. His heart pounds in his chest, thrumming to the dance of your own heart that yearns to break free from your ribcage. Your breath catches when two of his thick fingers tease at your entrance. Your walls flutter around him as the slip in easily.   

His fingers roll forward and stroke against something devastating inside of you, and he when his palm rolls back, it bumps against your clit with that divine firmness you need. Your cunt tightens around the two digits as they curl.  

“Fuck. Can you hear yourself?” He pants, groping your breast to elicit a high pitched wail. “You always make—make such pretty noises.” 

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words and fuck. You’re already dipping head first into release. A moment later you’re arching into his chest as every muscle stiffens in a crescendo of bliss, your stuttered breathing harsh even to your own ears.  

Your quick pants fog up his visor as Din rests the crown of his helmet on your forehead, the metal a cool relief to your flushed skin. He slips his fingers out of your dripping cunt, your chest still heaving with exertion as the last strands of your high fizzle and ebb away. Din shifts and and snakes his fingers, still shiny and wet with your arousal, beneath the lip of his helmet and sucks them clean with an appreciative groan.  

“Fuck—“ You breathe, pushing your face into his hand as he cups your cheek. Din’s thumb brushes over your cheekbone and swings his leg over your hips to hoist himself over you. 

“Do you remember...” He starts, his voice buzzing through the vocoder. His fingers tickle down your cheek and trace the parted outline of your lips. “When you let me taste you?”

You nod, and it’s all you’re able to do. You’re not even sure you can formulate words, let alone voice them right now. 

Din’s thumb pulls at your plush bottom lip, and you can’t help but slide your tongue along the digit. He grunts and slips his thumb into the wet heat of your mouth. “I think about you every night…how you came on my tongue—”

Your stomach flips as a rush of arousal sweeps through your tummy. You groan and you’re half sure you’re gonna dissipate into the floor from how hot your cheeks burn. “Din—"  

He continues without missing a beat. 

“You were so fucking wet for me—dripped all over my hand,” he murmurs, nuzzling his helmet, still chilly and frosted over, into the crook of you neck.  “I want to do it again—can I?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes his sentence. He wasn’t the only one longing for his head between your thighs on those long nights apart. Remembering those plush lips and addictive touches could only get you so far and well—he’s here now. You said it once and you’ll say it again—there’s no chance in hell you’d be passing up this opportunity. 

Din lifts his head and as you watch the light glitter in the reflection of the beskar, a sudden stray thought ricochets into the forefront of your mind. “Din, the light—your helmet.”

He pauses, his body tensing as he mulls over his options. “It’s—I—it’s ok…It’ll be ok.”

Din inhales a stuttered breath and casts a brief glance over his shoulder. It’s a dim light, kicked into the corner and laying on its side. From this angle, his face would be partially obscured in shadow…but still. There are easier ways to go about this. Ways that don’t risk jeopardizing the very foundation of who he is—what he stands for and what he so devoutly follows.    

To say you know anything about his religion is laughable. Everything you know can fit on the back of a thumbtack and even still, you’re sure that half of that is still based upon rumor and speculation. But this—what Din is hinting at, you know is not something to be taken lightly. 

He’s stripping his soul bare for you—allowing you to glimpse at that bleeding heart of his he guards so securely within layers of flesh and bone and impenetrable beskar. Din is gifting you his trust and there’s no where else to put it except for the space beneath your breast bone.   

Yet, even still—this could mean nothing at all. You have no way to know the exact magnitude of what this means to him. If he’s alright with this, who are you to question?

He mumbles one last thing about the light and sits up. Goosebumps rush up your bare skin at the loss of the heavy warmth of his body. You whine and curl up closer to his legs, greedy for any spare iota of heat like you’ve been denied it your entire life.   

Maker you hate this fucking planet—   

Your attention snaps back to Din when he makes a noise of uncertainty. His hands are cupped around his helmet—hesitant, nervous and you suspect if Din’s hands weren’t plastered so tight around the metal, he’d be shaking. You chew on your lip and prop yourself up. 

Cautiously, so as not to startle, you reach up and curl your fingers around his wrist. You can feel his pulse thrumming through his veins—alive, flesh and bone like you. Not some heap of sentient metal built for the horrors of war. You don’t know why you do it—just seems right to pull the fragile and vulnerable skin of his inner wrist to you mouth. You plant a gentle kiss there and smile when he cups your cheek.           

“You don’t owe me anything, Din,” you say, staring into the darkened depths of his visor. “Least of all this.”    

Some of that tension held in Din’s shoulders melts. He utters something in that clipped language of his people, and the only thing you can make out is your name. He lurches foreword and fuck—you’re terrified for a split second he’s gonna cave your skull in but instead he lightly bumps the crown of his helmet over your forehead.      

“I want to. For you—only you.”

Din doesn’t leave any time to unpack all of that. He sits up again, wraps his hands around the beskar— 

The metallic thunk of the helmet reverberates through the cave like a crack of thunder.    

You were right. 

You can barely see his face—if you really look, you can see the murky outline of his nose, dark hair and a sliver of his tan skin that the light touches. Attractive—but you knew that already. You touch his cheek and smile, your thumb catching over wiry facial hair and soft skin. Din makes a sound low in his throat and pushes his cheek into your hand. 

“I still want to taste you,” Din says, his voice richer when stripped of that tinny vocoder. You like listening to him speak without it, you think, and it’s a damn shame you never get to hear it. “Please.”     

Before he can escape and fulfill that fantasy, you yank him into a blinding kiss. He kisses the same—all wild edges and with desperation lining each motion—but there’s a new found tenderness here. Like he’s savoring each gasp and every brush of skin you grace him with like it’s your last night left in the galaxy.   

He breaks away from your mouth and peppers kisses and nips down your jaw, then lower as you arch and expose the bare skin of your throat. There’ll be a plethora of bruises tomorrow, and with no hope to cover them either but fuck it—Din can leave as many hickeys and teeth marks as he wants. 

If not for the cold still latching onto your very soul, you’d ditch the shirt; give Din better access instead of him needing to shove a hand up under and grope at your breasts. He gives the fabric an annoyed tug, but it’s fruitless. There’s no use when there’s better things to be sought. 

He shoves your shirt as far up as it goes, shivering as he mouths down your stomach, licks around your bellybutton and sucks a bruise onto your hipbone. Your pants are already pulled halfway down—one sharp yank and they’re around your ankles and off in the next breath. 

Cupping your knees with both hands he gingerly spreads your legs and drapes them over his muscular shoulders. Din rubs his patchy haired cheek along your thigh and hooks his hands under your ass, his ivory white teeth catching the light as he smiles.  

“Fucking perfect—“ He groans, planting his lips over your inner thigh. His tongue swipes a wet line up, stopping just before your aching cunt to dig his teeth into the sensitive flesh. You jump at the burst of pain and shoot a hand down, tangling your fingers into the soft curls atop his head.  

Din grunts and jumps to your other thigh, leaving no inch of skin neglected and without evidence of his teeth and lips. By the time his thumbs touch the outer lips of your cunt, the aching need for him is burning you from the outside in. He has to still your twitching hips with a calloused palm, and only after you settle does he surge forward. 

His tongue meets your swollen clit, ripping a tangled cry from you vocal cords. He’s just as eager as the first time he tasted you, if not more—every action backed by needy abandon. He sucks at the bundle of nerves then sweeps his tongue lower. Din’s thumbs part your lower lips as he runs his tongue though your soaked folds, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit that send delicious sparks throughout your whole body. Little noises and breathy gasps fill the cave, encouraging Din to push his tongue deep into your aching entrance. 

Your hand fists into his hair as your hips stutter and rock into the searing heat of his mouth. The noises you make are obscene, and Din is no better. Each pass of his tongue over your pussy is matched with his own deep moans that vibrated against your clit. Fucking hell he’s devouring you alive.          

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, robs you blind and crashes over you in deep waves that drag you out to sea and never to be found again as you spill onto his greedy tongue. Your fingers are threaded tight in his hair as you squeak and press harder into his mouth, riding out your pleasure until it shifts and becomes raw and sore.  

Din doesn’t pause for even a second—all too happy to stay put between your thighs for eternity. Your legs are trembling when you force his head away, a nice, tingly warmth settling into your limbs 

A dark thrill rushes down your spine when he looks up, wild hair and mouth covered in your slick. If not for the low lighting you imagine his eyes would be glazed over and Maker you want him again. Din swoops down and presses his mouth to yours, the taste of yourself heavy on his tongue that slips past the seem of your lips. 

You whine after he breaks away and sits up—an opportunity for your eyes to roam down his body. He’s still got his trousers on, a considerable bulge tenting the front. With a smirk you reach up and grab a handful, delighting in Din’s startled grunt. “Easy.”

You flash him a wry smile and give his clothed cock a playful squeeze. “Take them off.” 

Din huffs and pulls at the drawstrings. “Needy.”

He says it with no bite and no coquettish retort on your end springs to mind—especially when his thumbs hook into the waistband and pull. A slow reveal of sun-kissed skin and a sparse happy trail that your eyes eagerly drink up. 

Din’s cock bobs as his trousers fall around his knees, tip shiny and wet and curling towards his navel. You bite the inside of your cheek and reach out, a rush of arousal pulsing through your core at Din’s low moan. He’s heavy in your hand, deliciously thick and throbbing—and all of it for you. 

Din gasps out your name as you lightly squeeze and stroke down, your pace dreadfully slow and teasing. Who knows when you’ll get another chance like this—a Mandalorian willingly on their knees for you.           

Your other hand slips up his chest as you stroke him, intent on grabbing a handful of his thick hair that curls softly against the column of his neck. Your fingernail lightly scrapes across his nipple and he sways, pitching forward before he catches himself and straightens. Din’s eyes are squeezed tight, chest heaving with shallow pants as a smirk tugs at your lips. 

“It’s ok, Din,” you whisper. “I won’t break.” 

Your fingers twist into the hair at the base of his skull and guide him back. He slumps forward with a sweet moan, laying his weight onto your body that you’re all too happy too bare. His nose is nestled into the slope of your neck as his hands lock around the dip of your lower back while the other cradles the back of your head, drawing you into a loose semblance of a hug. 

Something snaps and crumbles deep in your soul that bleeds the heartstring blues, humming with broken chords in the presence of Din’s soft fragility. Your hand moves from between his legs to instead wrap around the wide expanse of his back, squeezing him tight to your chest. You hold each other like there isn’t tomorrow to look forward to and you wonder if this is how it feels to fall apart. Two spinning halves of a supernova torn apart and destined to collide and shatter into a million fragments of dazzling light.  

Yes, you’re scared he might blind you or burn you with his brilliance, but you can’t look away.      

Your fingers crawl up his muscled thigh and settle on his hip. “Lie down for me?”

There’s no hint of hesitation or complaint as he maneuvers himself onto his back, patiently allowing you to clamber over his legs and straddle his hips. His cock rests on your inner thigh, pulsing and leaving a dribble of wetness every time it twitches.    

“Good boy.” It’s subtle but it ripples out like a heavy stone thrown into a still lake. Din shudders and says your name in a cracked whisper. He rolls his hips, both of you groaning at the sensation of his cock running along your dripping center.     

Another time for that game maybe. 

Your desperation is running hot and wild to have him inside you and you know he’s in a similar boat. You grab the thick shaft of his cock and grind the tip of him through your lips, breath hitching when it extracts such a perfect moan from the man below you. 

“Ride me,” he pleads, clamping his large hands over your hips. “Fuck—I need you.” 

How can you deny such a request?

You line the wide head up with your aching center and slowly work him in. Shivers wrack through you, and Maker—he’s splitting you apart, molding your insides to the shape of him. Beads of sweat dot your hairline by the time you’re seated fully on his member, the both of you pushed even closer towards madness.  

Din squeezes your ass and props his knees up, rolling his hips up into you. You whimper and tip forward, propping your palms over his chest as he sets the pace. You may be on top but there’s no changing the bold colors of power and lust that cloud his mind, fueling the brutal movements of fucking up into you. Your thighs burn already and Maker—why the fuck are you already tired? You’re not doing any of the work.  

Quicker than lightning, Din curls forward and manhandles you onto your back. You squeak as he grips your thigh and yanks it around his narrow hips, thrusting in deeper. His right hand crawls up the front of your shirt and wraps his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. His thumb hovers over the dip at the base of your neck but he makes no move to press down—just allows the weight of his palm to do the work. And fuck—it works. 

Choked garbles of his name pass through your lips as you buck and squirm in his hold, feeling your arousal begin to drip down the back of your thighs. You’re skirting the edge of sizzling release that alights your nerves with liquid wildfire. Your nails harpoon into the meat of his shoulders as your eyes squeeze shut. Din won’t allow it.      

“Look at me,” Din snarls, yanking your head back by your hair. “I want to—to watch you cum for me.” 

A blush scalds your cheeks but you listen. Your eyes flutter open for him, sliding to the dark shadows of his eyes that sweep you into their own gravity well with no hope to escape. You don’t mind. 

“You’re so g-good for me—always so perfect.”

White hot light bursts behind your eyelids, and that’s all it takes. Your body seizes, your cunt squeezing impossibly tight around his cock as you cum. This one is different—steals your breath away and leaves you a broken husk of a person lost in most delectable forms of agony and pleasure. The cry of his name pierces the air only spurring the Mandalorian into a jarring pace to seek his own peak of ecstasy.  

Din’s nose nuzzles into your neck, his pants hot and sharp against your flushed skin. “You f-feel so—fuck. Say—say my name.”

You leap to his request and with a playful nip to his earlobe, you whisper it to him with the sweetness of starcherrries and the promise of better things. 

He tips over the edge, his hips faltering into no discernible pace as he cums. Din buries his teeth into the skin below your jaw, a mess of whines and begging gasps of nonsense as he fills your cunt to the brim. 

Your harsh breathing mingles as you both lazily slip down from your high. He rests his head over your sternum, listening to your beating heart that drums in a wild staccato as your fingers carefully comb through his hair. If not for the ache in your hips you’d keep him here forever. Din pulls out and you both groan at the loss. 

He doesn’t completely move away and you’re glad for it. He brushes his knuckles down the expanse of your cheek and dots a tender kiss to your hairline. Your name rumbles low in his throat as he shifts lower and gives your ear lobe a playful nip. His stubble scrapes along your neck, and you can’t help but giggle and squirm—but the weight of his body keeps you pinned. Your name slips from his lips a second time, breathy and drawn out in a sweet sigh, like he’s savoring the sound of each syllable and roll of the tongue. 

Din lifts his head, only slightly—near enough that his nose bumps into yours and his lips scrape along yours that are still parted and wet. “I—can I tell you something?” 

You cup his cheek and steal a kiss. It’s supposed to be quick—but instead he leans into it, guiding your mouth into a slow dance of sticky sweet movements that are caught in a slow draw, like crystalized honey abandoned in a glass jar. You’re enraptured by his touch—his skin mottled with scars yet somehow still unfairly soft. He smells of snow—like metal and soap and something gentler, that’s uniquely Din.            

Fuck—you can feel your mind slipping away, wrapped up so snugly in his presence you almost forget to answer. “Yeah—anything.”

Crackling static suddenly rips through the cave, startling you both. A distorted voice chatters on the comlink that lies forgotten beside your pants. It blinks and the transmission ends just as abruptly. With a sigh Din brushes it off and tilts his head to tempt you into another kiss but—

Whoever’s trying to patch through is persistent. 

His lip curls in a scowl and snatches the comm. “Jorhaa’ir.”

You only catch your name being mentioned twice as rapid Mando’a is exchanged. Aeris maybe judging by the tone, but no that’s not right.   

“Wait—is that Paz?”

The muscles in Din’s shoulders tense, confirming your suspicion.

“Is everything ok?” Din doesn’t resist you when you pry the comlink out of his fingers and patch in. “Paz?”

Your heart skips a beat. 

“There you are,” the comlink crackles and you smile. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” 

Stars—you didn’t think you’d miss hearing Paz’s voice. Your chest aches. 

The conversation is short, he asks you how you are and when you’re coming home and in the time it takes to answer, Din is peeling himself from your body. While you're distracted, he pulls on his pants and sits at the edges of your vision.

You both pretend when you say goodnight to Paz, return the comlink and crawl into his arms that nothing has festered with savage detachment. You don't remember to ask him what he was going to say and he lets you forget. The golden heart that bleeds molten ichor slips from your sight and becomes shut behind walls of beskar and bushes of thick thorns and overgrown ivy.         

He still holds you, but it’s the coldest you’ve ever been. 

Tag List: @teaofpeach @corrupt-fvcker @nelba @datmando @ben-is-a-hoe @dreams-like-clockwork @aeryns-library @auty-ren @huliabitch @anxiety-riddled-mando @phoenixhalliwell @cptnbvcks @thesoftdumbass @krissology @starlite41 @legally-a-bastard @basslinedweller @cloud-of-roses @elenamiria @goldafterglow @maybege @equalstrashflavoredtrash @wandxrlust @hdlynnslibrary @calamity-queen @sgtbookybarnes @pinkninja190 @lackofhonor @darthstyles @spacegayofficial @absurdthirst​ @blue-writes-a03​ @max--phillips​

[boomtowngirl]

It’s missing Paz Hours

I personally think he’d be a big softie with his s/o and would love to just shed the armor and cuddle when he’s on the covert

Special thanks to @firstofficerwiggles for inspiring me to finish this piece 💕

[mysticalgalaxysalad]

An Old Love Doesn’t Rust

Ship: Paz Vizsla x Din Djarin

Fandom: The Mandalorian/Star Wars

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: yearning, two idiots in love trope, feelings, detailed smut (18+), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks), oral sex, porn with feelings, fluff, romance, set after Chapter 16

Summary: Din accepts his fate with the Darksaber on the Mandalore. While preparing a ball for Mandalorians, he unexpectedly meets an old friend from the past and feelings come on the surface.

Words: 3.2k (what the fuuuck, i have never written this much for a oneshot, holy shit, i impressed myself at this point)

It was difficult to settle without him.

After Din let Grogu leave with Luke, he felt empty. He knew that he’ll miss his son. And that Grogu will miss him too. But there was something, that he needed to do. Din looked at the Darksaber and sighed. He wasn’t ready for this, but this was the Way.

       Few months later…

„..and these flowers will be there…“

Din was already exhausted. As the Mand’alor, he was throwing a ball for his fellow Mandalorians. And it was pretty big event. His assistants were talking too much and at some point Din caught himself to be dived deep into his memories. Especially in his memories for certain bigger boy in dark blue Beskar armor…

Paz Vizsla. The name of a man Din thought of very often. Of his best friend. Oh, how much Din wanted to see that big blue di’kut again! In those rare moments, when Din dared to be vulnerable with himself, completely honest, he missed Paz in ways he would have never thought he would. He missed his deep voice, when Paz was talking about practically anything he had on his mind, his wholehearted laughter, when he and Din had gotten away with some mischief, his like dark night sky blue, shiny armor, his touch, when Paz patted Din on the back, when Din was choking on a piece of juicy fruit…

Din was so caught up in his thoughts and feelings about Paz, that he didn’t notice his right hand Mandalorian in purple Beskar saying him something. He remembered himself only after Mandalorian patting him on his shoulder.

„What’s going on?“

„Sir, I think it’s time to prepare for the event,“ Mandalorian nervously stepped.

„Oh yes, that ball,“ Din sighed and got up. „Thank you for noticing me,“ he nodded at Mando and left to prepare for the night.

          Later that evening…

„Ladies and gentleman and others, welcome to the ball,“ Din, dressed in his silver Beskar armor, which was shinier and overall looking better than usually, started his first speach as the Mand’alor. All Mandalorians, also dressed in their shiny armors, listened to him very attentively. Djarin didn’t speak for too long, although he seemed to be very calm and confident, his heart was nervously pounding in his armored chest. He spoke about what he thought was important and from his heart.

„And now, let’s the fun begin. This is the Way,“ Din finished his speech with Mandalorian creed, and everyone could feel the smile in his voice.

„This is the Way,“ Mandalorians chanted cheerfully. Some of them even chanted Din’s name. Din blushed a little and smiled under his helmet. As he was watching his fellow vods having fun, he caught sight of very familiar blue color. And he felt suddenly his heart to stop.

That familiar blue color could originate from the only one source. In that moment, Din knew, who it was. It felt like Maker had heard his most secret hopes and dreams. Maybe…maybe he could be happy again.

Stunned Din watched his long lost friend Paz talking to Bo-Katan. Suddenly, he felt a lump forming in his throat, his mouth dry like Tatooine sands. Will Paz still remember his friend from childhood? And how did he leave Nevarro? Where had he gone after that shooting? Din’s head was full of questions he hoped he’d get answers to soon.

„…and then we saved Grogu and I lost the Darksaber,“ Bo-Katan grumpily rambled about their adventures to her new object of complaining, Paz, who really tried to listen to her, but he kept daydreaming, just as Din.

„So, who’s the new Mand’alor?“ Paz interrupted Bo-Katan’s venting, much to her annoyance.

„Look for yourself, big blue boy,“ she smirked.

Paz groaned. Something about the way she said „big blue boy“, irked him. He was about to say something ironic to her, when he noticed she left. Good, at least I’ll get some peace now, he thought. But not for long. When he turned to see the famous Mand’alor, he froze.

Paz would not have been much happier for his helmet than in the very moment he saw Din on the Mand’alor throne. His dark, sparkling eyes went comically wide, plump, soft lips, which had never kissed yet, slighty parted. It felt like all his thoughts, words were thrown out of Paz‘ head. He couldn’t even tell, what exactly he felt at that moment. Relief, happiness, doubt, that Din would not remember him, or something, that made his lower parts tingle? Probably all at once, if Paz would be absolutely honest with himself. And maybe something more. There was always something more with Din.

As the ball continues, Din felt himself very tired. But since he saw Paz, he could say, that something in the air changed. He also knew, that he wouldn’t be able to sleep without talking to Vizsla, but it seemed Din couldn’t get to him. Every few minutes someone wanted to talk with him.

While politely conversating with another Mando, he caught Paz‘ visor staring at him and suddenly the world stopped existing. It was like each other of them could see each other’s sould and it was intense and burning. Din’s breath hitched and his blood changed into something similar to molten lava.

He politely excused himself from discussion and nodded at Paz to follow him. He headed to a small part of garden, protected by a bunch of bushes with beautiful, soft looking bloody red flowers with thin petals and honey-sweet smell. Mand’alor didn’t turn his back to see, if Paz was really following him. Paz was.

When they got into that secret garden spot, Din slowly turned to Paz. His whole body lightly buzzed with nerves and sweet anticipation. For a few minutes, there was a silence, filled with a tension and something else. Promise.

They stared at each other for a while. Then Din moved and Paz moved too and they hugged like their lives depended on it. Mand’alor sighed happily. Paz‘ strong, big hug provided him security and comfort Din never knew he needed. Untill now. And when he got a taste, he could never get enough.

„Djarin, so you’ve made it to the Mand’alor,“ Din could feel the grin and proud in Paz‘ raspy voice. He, after all, was grinning like a fool himself under his Beskar bucket. „I see you’ve made it pretty good too, Vizsla,“ Din said, then he whispered softer. „I thought you’d died.“ His black visor met Paz‘ one.

„Y-yeah, i was succesful with leaving Nevarro, but I had to stay low since then,“ Paz explained, his voice sounded little bit choked. „Otherwise I would get in touch with you, but I thought it would bring you unwanted attention from those kriffing Imps and I - I didn’t want to endanger you, Din,“ Paz‘ voice got softer and softer with every word spoken. And I was afraid you wouldn’t remember me, Paz thought of.

Din was awestruck from what he just heard. After a minute or two, when he regained his composure, he spoke again, voice filled with an emotion he couldn’t quite entitle. „You could never endanger me, ner vod,“ and before he could stop himself, Din’s hands grasped Paz‘ helmet carefully and he stepped on his toes to clink his silver bucket against Paz‘. Din didn’t think about it twice. It somehow felt…so right.

To say Paz was overwhelmed, was a big understatement. He knew since he had seen Din for the first time after such long time, there had been something between them. He could feel it with his whole body, mind, soul. It was syrupy thick and sweet and hot and so intense, it consumed him. It brought emotions in Paz, which he wouldn’t even dare to call it.

So, he just stood there, absolutely dumbstruck, and gulped dry. His heart was pounding in his chest. Before he could do anything, Din let go of him. Paz was still quietly processing, that his best friend just kissed him in Mandalorian way, when Din did another thing, which took Paz Vizsla’s breath away. Din Djarin, the new Mand’alor, took off his helmet.

Paz knew he should scold Din for what he had just done. Broken Creed atc. However, he couldn’t bring himself to do so. All he could do right now, was to think about how Din looked so beautiful in the moonlight. His dark brown eyes, deep as the galaxy surronding them, reflected the light of stars above them. His helmet hair were wet with sweat and full of soft curls. And the pink, plump lips…Stars, Din was a sight for gods. Paz slightly shuddered. His mind was flooded with very tempting pictures of Mand’alor himself, writhing beneath big blue Beskar Mandalorian, his mouth creating perfect ‚O‘ shape, as Paz hit that heavenly spot inside Din, which made Din see not stars, but whole galaxies…His body reacted to these images very precisely and he was thankful for his codpiece, as he was already hot and throbbing in his pants.

Din noticed Paz‘ quietness and his tremble. He had no idea, why it happened, but he slowly started to be afraid, that Paz was disgusted by what he had done. Oh, if he only knew…

There was a flesh of insecurity in Din’s eyes and Mand’alor took a step back. This alarmed Paz, who got into his protector mode. „What’s wrong, cyare? Did I hurt you? Oh, kriffing hell, I didn’t-“ Paz would probably continue in his rambling, if he didn’t see Din’s surprised look with a hint of hope. And Paz realized, what he said. But there was no way in hell for him to take it back. Paz simply couldn’t hold himself anymore.

„Yes, Din, cyare,“ and now was time for Din to be in shock, because Paz copied his gesture with taking off the helmet. Din gasped, when Paz came closer and slowly, as if Din was made from a fragile materiál, caressed his blushed cheeks. His whole body throbbed with need. „So beautiful,“ Paz whispered and lowered himself to Din’s face. „You-you’re very pretty yourself, Paz,“ Din answered and looked at him with silent plea. Paz obeyed. His lips touched Din’s and it was burning like a wild fire. Slow, gentle kisses quickly turned into more needy, hot sensual ones. Both men after a while groaned into each other’s mouth, and that just spurred them more. It was sinful and passionate and just everything they wanted.

„We should také this somewhere private, Djarin,“ Paz panted into Din’s ear, when he licked his earlobe and sucked it. „Ye-yeah, we should- oh, kriffing stars,“ Din groaned, when he felt Paz‘ lips on his neck, sucking a mark on his tender spot. Under Vizsla’s touches, Din quickly changed into needy, trembling mess, he was so touch-starved.

Finally, Paz reluctantly let go of Din, picking his helmet. When Din got his helmet too, he nodded at the man with blue Beskar to follow him. They quickly walked through garden, too eager to feel each other’s body. After few minutes, which felt like eternity, they got into Din’s private quarters, and the moment the door closed behind them, they were on each other again.

They eagerly stripped of Beskar, it was laid randomly on the floor. Neither of them cared. Paz sucked another mark into Din’s neck and tugged on his T-shirt to pull it off of Din. When Din was half bare before Paz, Paz also took his shirt off. „Mmm, so beautiful,“ whispered, as he was kissing every inch of Din’s tender skin. By the time Paz got to his nipples, Din was a panting mess, back arching into Paz. „Shhh, Din, I know, I’ve got you. I’ve got you, ner cyare, let me take care of you.“ With those words, Paz sucked one of Din’s erect nipples, licking and carefully biting it slowly, while kneading the other one. Din let out a loud whimper, his hand went straight into Paz‘ soft, fluffy hair. His body shook and Din thought he could cum just from his nipples being sucked.

Paz paid the same attention to the other nipple as well and Din’s groans of pleasure got louder. When Paz felt Din’s nipples gor enough attention, he slowly kissed, licked and bit Din’s torso to his stomach and lower abdomen. „O-oh, it feels s-so g-good, Paz,“ Din panted, while Paz sucked few more hickeys into his skin. „And it will be better, love,“ Paz purred and tugged on Din’s pants. Din lifted his hips, so Paz could get rid of it. It was also tossed on the floor and Paz turned to Din’s rock hard cock, leaking precum all over. 

 „Holy shit,“ Paz whispered to himself, as his mouth watered at the sight. He couldn’t resist to lick Din’s length and taste him like the best lollipop. The sinful groan he let out, went straight to Din’s cock and Din thrusted his hips instinctively. „S-sorry,“ he exhaled. „Don’t have to be, love,“ Paz winked and let Din slide into his warm and wet mouth. Din’s mouth shaped perfect ‚O‘, as Paz‘ mischievous tongue licked along Din’s velvety dick. He never felt anything like this. Everything, what Paz did to him, made his blood change into wild lava and reduce him into whimpering puddle. And  after one particularly good suck Din found himself teetering right on the edge. „P-Paz, I-I think I’m gonna-“ That was when Paz let him slide of his mouth with loud ‚pop‘.

Din pushed himself up on his elbows and with loud disappointed grunt looked at his lover. Paz shushed him again. „I will také care of you, my sweet boy, do not worry,“ he also undressed and bared himself to Din. And at the sight of naked Paz, Din lost his ability to speak. Paz was big and thick and beautiful. And very aroused. Paz pumped himself few times, smearing his precum all over his cock. „Do you have lube?“ „In a nightstand,“ Din nodded, his voice raspy from moaning. Paz found a small bottle and squirted a good amount of gel on his fingers. „Will you let me take care of you, Din?“ Din nodded again, opened his legs slowly and leaned back on the bed, trying to relax for Paz. Paz smiled and kissed him.

„That’s my good boy,“ he purred and at first he just touched Din’s hole with his wet fingers. He looked at Din’s face for any sign of discomfort, but when he didn’t find any, he carefully pushed one finger in. Din closed his eyes and grunted. It was slightly uncomfortable, but eventually he got used to Paz‘ fingers sliding in and out of him. It also helped that Paz used a lot of lube too. All this time Paz was praising him. „My sweet boy, take my fingers so good. Oh, you’re so beautiful, my love.“

Din felt absolutely wonderful. Paz‘ fingers always hit that one spot inside him, that made him keen and lean into Paz‘ touch. „A-ah, Vizsla, yes, yes,“ Din moaned and grabbed the sheets beneath him, as if to anchor himself. After earlier edging, he was worked up and felt on the edge of heavenly pleasure once again. But Paz had apparently other plans and stopped stimulating Din.

„Paaaz-“ Din pouted and looked at him with almost teary dovey eyes. Although he quickly shut himself, when he felt Paz nudging at his entrance. Paz took the lube again and squirted a lot of it all over his cock. „I-I’ve got you, Din, my love,“ Paz whispered and slowly entered Din. He groaned deeply and when Paz was fully seated inside of Mand’alor, he leaned to kiss him passionately. This allowed him also také a breath, because of how tight and warm Din felt around him, Paz felt like he might combust right and there.

After a short while, Paz set slow, sensual pace. If Din thought this couldn’t get better, he was painfully wrong. And also painfully hard. But Paz proved his earlier words, when he grasped Din’s beautiful weeping cock and started to pump him. Din’s moans and grunts got two octaves higher, and under normal conditions, he’d be embarassed for it. Now he couldn’t care less. Not when Paz was looking at him, as if Din hung all the stars on the sky himself. Not when Paz‘ sight was full of passion and so much love for him. That was moment Din knew he was done for.

„I-I love you, Paz,“ Din panted and his one hand caressed lovingly Paz‘ scruffed cheek, while the other one hugged around his strong, broad shoulders. „Y-you do?“ Paz‘ hips slowed for a second and he leaned his forehead against Din’s in Keldabe kiss. „Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, Din,“ he growled, his pace quickened again, his hands pumping Din matching the pace of his hips. At this point Din was almost screaming from intense pleasure, and Paz was very happy about it. „Now, be a good boy for me once again and cum, Din, let me feel you, ner cyare,“ bigger man mumbled into Din’s ear and slightly sucked it.

That praise sent Din over the edge and oh, did he cum. With a loud groan of Paz‘ name and curses in Mando’a, he climaxed all over Paz‘ hand, his stomach and some of his cum even made it to his neck and chin. The sight of climaxing Din and the feeling of him clamping hard around Paz, triggered Paz’s own orgasm and he climaxed inside Din, panting Din’s name, before he collapsed on blissed out Mand’alor beneath him.

They both laid like that for a short amount of time, listened to each other’s heart. Then Paz slided out of Din, and smaller man whimpered weakly at the loss of him. Paz chuckled. „I’ll be right back, mesh’la,“ he stated and in a while he came back with warm cloth to clean Din. But he had to admit to himself, it was pretty hot to watch his load leaking out of Din. After Din was cleaned, Paz cuddled to him and tucked them both under soft blanket. Din happily sighed, soft smile on his face. He never felt as relaxed as now, laying on Paz‘ chest.

„You did so well for me, Din, I’m proud of you, my love,“ Paz whispered lovingly into Din’s hair, peppering him with kisses and caresses, where he could reach. Din’s smile got bigger and it tugged on Paz‘ heart. He always wanted to see that gorgeous smile. Then Din spoke quietly.

„Did-did you mean it, Paz? Do you love me?“

„Yes, I do, Din. I’m never leaving you ever again, my love, I promise,“ Paz kissed Din’s forehead, nose, both cheeks and finally his lips and it was so soft and full of love.

„Stay with me, please,“ Din asked, kissing Paz‘ handsome face. Paz smiled, and it was biggest, happiest smile, which made him look so much younger and light-hearted.

„With my biggest pleasure, ner Mand’alor.“

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anyone who wants to be tagged in this, just let me know and i’ll add you :D i just forgot who else wanted to be tagged in my fic, i’m sorry for it :(