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thebadboyfanclub · 1 year

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My Moonlight (Daemon x Reader)

So this was requested by an anon. Once again this was a challenge but I hope I did it justice, let me know if it’s shit but… Enjoy!

It was a cold winter night when princess Alyssa gave birth to not one but two children, prince Daemon and princess (y/n), legend has it (y/n) would wail until she laid next to her twin brother. When princess Alyssa held her daughter he saw herself in the babes eyes, they held the same glimpse of strength and resilience, she was called “the fire of the realm”, the greatest thing was during the labour the wild dragon sheep stealer landed outside the keep.

Once princess Alyssa heard the news she was up on her feet with her twin children in her arms to meet the dragon, (y/n) was the one that sheep stealer had chosen as the dragon sniffed around her and then sat down on the ground, it almost looked like the dragon bowed for the princess, it was not as big in size as Caraxes yet he made up for it with its ill temper and ferocious attitude, it would only listen and obey to (y/n) which caused a lot of problems to the dragon keepers, the dragon was named blaze “it’s only fitting for the realms fire to ride her blaze” she liked to joke.

As the years passed the twins were attached at the hip and the court would joke about how they were the same person. (Y/n) and Daemon would often get in trouble due to the obsession they had for one another, (y/n) had a habit of grabbing little girls by their hair and drag them when they attempted to come close to her brother and Daemon had to be pulled off from other boys that would offer flowers to the princess. Their father would look at them as a continuation of the love he had shared with their deceased mother, it was no coincidence that they looked identical either, two bodies that shared one soul.

“we were born together, we will die together”

Prince Daemon would frequently answer when he was questioned about (y/n). (Y/n) and Daemon could not be tamed by rules, she had given her Maidenhead to Daemon before their betrothal was even announced, whispers of how prince Daemon had taken (y/n) behind a brother at the street of silk spread like fire, they were partially true what they forgot to mention was that (y/n) had dragged Daemon in a dark alley to mountain him, she was insatiable.

“It feels like I am being fucked by myself”

She whispered to him, Daemon laughed but did not oppose to her declare, their resemblance was uncanny and oddly arousing, seeing themselves in one another made it more fun for them, their facial expression matching as their were twisted with pleasure was exciting to say the least.

Both of them were intoxicated by love, they were ruthless as the green eyed monster of jealousy drove them to insanity, their antics baffled everyone as for example their brother Viserys had roared with anger when (y/n) slapped Rhaenyra at her own wedding for dancing and whispering to her lord husbands ear. (Y/n) was restrained by Daemon and was forced out, later a soldier heard their groans of pleasure as Daemon had pushed her against a wall to “teach her a lesson”.

Daemon had taken it a step further as he beheaded her knight for listing after his lady wife, the truth was the knight had just held the princess by the waist when she tripped over and Daemon did not appease to how the knight went about it.

The birthing bed was a place (y/n) would frequent with Daemon by her side as he whispered to her words of encouragement, the ended up having 8 kids, her eldest was a son that (y/n) already carried in her belly when the wedding ceremony was held, she named him Baelon, the second one was twin girls Alyssane and Alyssa, the fourth was another boy named Maegor, then there was Eleana, after her came Rhaegal that gave his mother quite a fright since he decided to arrive earlier than expected, and the last ones were another daughter pair of twins named Visenya and Helias a girl and a boy naturally they all looked like the same person just different heights and personalities, the family resided at dragon stone that Viserys had passed to his siblings, away from duty and boring court gatherings, they showed up when they wished not when they were summoned, on one hand it was a relief since having them around meant chaos would erupt, on the other no one knew when they would strike

“My moonlight”

Daemon called his sister wife who waited for him at the dragon pit with their children. Daemon took (y/n)s hand and placed a sweet kiss on the womans knuckles, he looked up to admire his ever defiant wife.

(Y/n) was dressed in a marvellous black and red outfit and stood next to her dragon, the first to run to Daemon was his youngest Visenya, her long dirty blonde hair swinging as she hugged his fathers leg. Daemon picked her up and held his daughter tightly, she was a spitting image of her parents of course, the only difference was that she was the one to inherit her grandmothers eyes, one was blue and the other was violet.

“How is my little princess?”

“Mother said I can ride my dragon”

“ The dragonkeepers said it’s safe and the red keep is a short flight from here”

“What amazing news”

Daemon beamed, all of their children had dragon eggs in their cradle, unfortunately a few did not hatch including Maegors, however that was quickly forgotten due to (y/n) and daemon flying with their kids to find unclaimed dragons when Maegor had found Cannibal and claimed him he came back riding, in his mothers eyes Maegor was destined to become a legend, the dragon was later named “Gaelithox”.

Daemon had assisted his little girl up on her completely white dragon, Visenya had named him “moonlight” after the nickname Daemon had for (y/n).

“Allow me my love”

“No need”

(Y/n) dismissed her husbands hand and sat on her dragons saddle. Daemon scoffed as he shook his head, of course she would not take his hand, (y/n) never yearned for assistance even if it came from her husband. The flight was short yet blissful, they all went up to the sky side by side and listened to little Visenyas squeals of joy, (y/n) puffed her chest with pride as she gazed at the little girl. Helias had claimed Vermithor, (y/n) had taken the small babe up in the sky with her dragon when she spotted vermithor, something told her to land next to the lonely dragon, it was then that the dragon chose the child as its new rider.

Once they landed their son caught up to his little sister and picked her off her dragon, Maegor was over protective of his siblings. Viserys waited outside for his brother and sister along with his wife, Alicent.

“Daemon and (y/n)! Welcome home”

“My dearest brother, how I’ve missed you”

(Y/n) loved Viserys, it was only for her that Viserys tolerated Daemons rebellious acts. Viserys placed his hands on (y/n)s stomach as his face showed admiration.

“Gods be good sister, your family is a sight for sore eyes, dragon stone seems to have their hands full with heirs”

“our mother unfortunately did not live long enough to make the army she wished for our father, I hope she is smiling down on me for my effort”

“The mother seems to be quite gracious with her blessings for princess (y/n)”

Alicent spoke lightly, (y/n)s eyes focused on her, (y/n) was never fond of the hightowers, she found them repulsive and vicious, lowlife rats that raised their hopes up to take over the Targaryen throne.

“Goddess Meleys was on our side that is correct”

“And let me take a good look at Rhaegal, my daughter is a lucky woman”

Rhaegal was to be wed to Helaena, Rhaegal had grown fond of the princesses innocence and kind heart, he would often ride his dragon to be by her side for as long as he could.

(Y/n) and Daemon pushed their pride aside for their son and allowed the match, they also thought how it would serve for their son to be wed to heleana when Rhaenyra ascends the throne, if their children take over the hightowers they would not go against the princess.

“Let us go inside, Rhaenyra has been waiting for you”

(Y/n)s mask slipped for a quick moment, she could recall the encounter that occurred during her wedding, she shared a look with her husband that made Daemon place his one hand around her waist and the other to hold her hand tightly, the last thing he needed was for his sister wife to be cross with him.

“Princess Rhaenyra it’s been far too long”

“Indeed it has my dear aunt, i see you have been quite busy growing your family”

Rhaenyra hugged her aunt and then took a step back to bow at her uncle, (y/n) smirked at the encounter and Rhaenyras timid behaviour, at least the slap had taught her a lesson.

“And your children have grown, Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey isn’t it?”

“Correct, they were far younger when you last saw them”

“Visenya and Helias were babes, you don’t remember them do you sweetlings?”

Daemon once again picked up little Visenya. The girl shook her head before she hid her face at her fathers neck making everyone’s heart melt. Daemon rubbed her back while (y/n) lifted her son Helias in her arms, Helias seemed intrigued by Rhaenyra since he stared right in her eye, he was the adventurous one.

“I believe the children should go to the gardens, mingle amongst themselves”

(Y/n) suggested, they did not come all the way here to have some family quality time. Naturally Maegor went up to his father so he came hold little Visenya, she was a shy child who adored her brother. Alyssa went to her mother to lure Helias away with sweets, he was always a mothers boy so he needed a tad bit of convincing to leave his mothers arms.

As the children walked away it was only (y/n), Daemon, Viserys, Alicent and Rhaenyra in the room. An awkward silence fell as the three women sized each other up while the men stood completely still, waiting to see the women’s reaction.

“How is your son Baelon?”

“He should be here any minute now with his wife Laena and of course their two daughters, my son has informed me that princess Rhaenyra is interested to betroth Jacaerys and Lucerys with Baela and Raena”

“Indeed, the children seem quite fond of each other”

Rhaenyra responded diplomatically, (y/n) could detect that she was weaponising the children’s feelings so she wouldn’t go against it.(Y/n) nodded as she held back all the sly comments that passed through her mind, her grandchildren would marry the two bastards, what a mess and might she add a waste of Valyrian blood, Baelon was the one that tried to reason with his mother and allow the match, Baelon wished for his daughters to be happy as well as see Baela ascend to the throne with her lord husband.

“Well since we are are discussing the topic of betroths I would like to propose a match”

“What do you have in mind sister?”

“Alyssa has been betrothed to her brother Maegor but I would like to suggest that we betroth my other daughter Eleana to your son Aemond, our families I have been divided for so long it is time we put our differences aside, as well as keep the blood of old Valyria pure”

(Y/n)s eyes shifter for only a moment to take a look at Rhaenyra, Viserys smiled brightly at the proposal while Alicent froze in her spot, (y/n) has noticed that Alicent has a soft spot for her son Aemond so if he was to marry Eleana meant there would be another woman influencing her loyal soldier.

“What a splendid idea my dearest (y/n), Eleana is more than my son would have wished for, isn’t that right my queen?”

“I supposed, Aemond would be a… wonderful husband”

Everyone with eyes could detect Alicents uneasiness at the proposal, Eleana was a force to be reckoned with, an excellent archer and a mighty dragon rider, her spirit would not be silenced under Alicents influence, quite the contrary Alicent feared for her son being dragged away from her reach and follow his wife in whatever she wished, which was why (y/n) suggested it.

Alicent could feel it how every move was calculated and an attempt to shoot down anything the hightowers might have in mind. Aemond was a family oriented man, if him and Eleana were to have children he would never turn against his own kin, Heleana was to be wed to her other son so as a wife and a gentle soul she would comply with her husbands wishes, one of them was for Heleana to move to dragon stone after the ceremony. (Y/n) was already taking away her only daughter and now she planted a spy in his sons chamber.

“May I ask dear sister, what about your daughter Alyssane? Our son Aegon might-“

“No”

Daemon spoke up for the first time. He had heard stories of the nuisance that was Aegon, “a waste of a name” he called him when he was brought in question, Daemon had grown the closest to his daughter Alyssane, she was an exquisite sword woman and a perfect diplomat, he would never throw his daughter to the low life that was his nephew. (Y/n) squeezed her husband hand and smiled at him, her smile seemed warm although Daemon caught on quickly that it was his first and last warning.

“Alyssane is a free spirit my king, we’ve had numerous discussions about her and Aegon that led nowhere, she is adamant to marry Lord Cregan Stark, he has already send ravens to us asking for her hand, I think you can understand I cannot go against true love”

(Y/n) spoke the truth, her daughter Alyssane was keen on marrying Cregan stark, a fine young prince that would support their daughter and make her the queen of the north, what was a flat out lie was the “numerous discussions”, Alyssane and her parents had never discussed that option, Aegon was not their problem.

Before their plans could go any further they were interrupted by the guards bursting in the room.

“My apologies but you must come to the gardens, Prince Maegor has attacked prince Aegon”

“My child”

Alicent made haste and flew out the room leaving the others stunned. (Y/n) eyeballed her husband, their tight bond came in handy in these situations when they had to communicate with just their eyes. Everyone moved as fast they could and were met with Maegor being held back by three guards as Alicent inspected her son for injuries.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Daemons voice was loud and clear, Maegor had a temper but had never acted with violence without reason. Maegor gained back his composure when he realised his parents were present, (y/n) went to walk to her son as the guards led him go.

“What is the meaning? Your son is a savage, my children are once again met with cruelty of your family”

“Your grace let us not jump to conclusions, Maegor as your mother I demand to know what happened”

Maegor remained silent. As he looked at his sister he thought of what to say, he did not regret his actions yet once his mother came in his vision he felt embarrassed over his temper.

“Maegor I won’t ask twice”

“He wanted to bet money that he could fuck Alyssa”

Maegor interrupted his mother with his voice rising due to anger. It was like time stopped when Maegor made the accusation known, Maegor was defending his sister that was his soon to be wife.

Aegon was unaware that his uncle was standing behind him when he spoke with such disgusting words over his sisters. Alyssa and Alyssane were playing out a sword fight while Eleana and Visenya sat on the grass with Heleana and watched, the sons of Rhaenyra had ran off somewhere with Rhaegal and Aegon had turned to his brother Aemond to demise Maegors sisters. He was about to jump in the conversation so he can make Aegon stop talking when he heard of the bet, that was what made him lose his mind.

“Is that true Aegon?”

Alicent questioned in a state of shock. If what Maegor had stated was correct then it was another stab on Alicents back, her own son had betrayed her and left them exposed to the hungry wolves that was (y/n) and Daemon.

Aegon remained silent and (y/n) found this as an opportunity to approach the boy and land one harsh slap on his already bruised face. Alicent nor anyone else did not dare to stop her, he had crossed a line and spoke ill of her daughter, if it was the other way around Alicent would have done the same. Daemon admired his twin with his head held high as she grabbed Aegon by the chin and forced him on his knees in front of her son Maegor.

“Alyssa, go to your brother Maegor”

Alyssa did as told and wrapped her hand around Maegor after she leaned her head on his shoulder. Alyssa and Maegor were in love ever since they were toddlers, even if Maegor was younger he always protected his siblings and although he struggles with intimacy (y/n) recalled when Maegor would slip a small daisy in Alyssa’s books every day or how she waited for him to find a dragon so they could fly together, Alyssa had claimed silverwing when the dragon came out of hiding on Alyssanes and Alyssa’s first name day.

“Apologise to them”

“What?”

“You heard her boy, apologise to them”

Daemon repeated as he had approached his wife who stayed next to the kneeling boy. Aegon looked back at his mother for help yet to no avail, he had created this mess he was going to come out of it by his own.

“I…. I am sorry”

“For what?”

“I am sorry for speaking in a low manner about Alyssa”

“If I hear that you even looked at any of my daughters way, I will cut off your hands and your cock so I can feed it to you. Understood?”

Aegon only nodded in fear of (y/n)s wrath. She took her eyes of Aegon who was clearly beaten with quite the strength from Maegor and took a few steps to stand at the head of her son. Maegors posture was proud and there was no sight of remorse in his eyes as they laid upon his mother. Everyone held their breath as (y/n) handled the matter, all of Westeros were familiar with how far Daemon and (y/n) would go for their children, gods save the man that would harm their family. A small smirk appeared in (y/n)s lips as she reached up to caress her sons cheek

“You are your fathers son, I am proud of you my dear Maegor”

Requests are open!

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beskarandblasters · 6 months

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Show Her “The Way” To Behave

Professor!Din Djarin x University Student/F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Author’s note: A professor AU but make it ✨Star Wars✨

Summary: You’re a senior at Coruscant University and your advisor tells you that you have to take Mandalorian Studies, a class you’re dreading. You come to learn that Mandalorian Studies is taught by Professor Djarin, a new adjunct professor. It ends up being not too bad but one day you and your friends are making fun of him in the back of class. To your horror he asks you to stay after class so he can “reprimand” you 😉

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, uneven power dynamic, semi public sex, spanking, degradation, pet names (good girl, pretty girl, dirty girl), glove kink, voice kink??, praising, fingering, orgasm delay/denial, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie (that was not agreed to beforehand), no use of y/n

You’re in your senior year at Coruscant University, inching closer and closer to finally graduating. You’re a history major and while you love history with all of your heart, school is draining you. So when your advisor tells you that you have to take Mandalorian Studies this semester, you’re less than thrilled. She sends you a copy of your schedule on your data pad and you take a look at the Mandalorian Studies section you’re in. And apparently, it’s being taught by Professor Djarin? You don’t even know who that is. Maybe they’re new to campus or an adjunct professor? Whoever they are, you hope they’re a good professor, or else this is about to be the longest and most boring semester of your life.

You send your schedule to your friends, Helia and Mione, also history majors. To your delight, they’re both in Mandalorian Studies with you. At least you can goof off together. You’re so close to graduating that class isn’t that big of a deal for you anymore, you already have some promising job prospects after graduation. You’ll just have to suffer through this boring class. But at least you and your friends will do it together… Right?

It’s the first day of the semester. You’re about to head to Mandalorian Studies, in a particular part of campus you don’t normally frequent. The classroom is your typical university lecture hall, with a pitched floor with a desk situated in the center, large screens behind the desk, and seats on each of the steps. Your friends wave to you and you head over to them, sitting in the seat they saved.

“Are you ready for the most boring class ever?” Helia snickers.

“Don’t get me started,” you groan.

You lean back in your chair and close your eyes, shielding them from the bright lights of the lecture hall. Until you hear a collection of gasps followed by one of your classmates saying, “That’s the professor?”

Your eyes fly open to see a Mandalorian in shiny beskar armor heading down the steps to the desk in the center of the floor. Kriff, you didn’t think the professor himself would actually be a Mandalorian.

He faces the class, a group of about forty students, and takes a deep breath.

“Hello. I’m Professor Djarin. Welcome to Mandalorian Studies. This semester we’ll be learning about Mandalorian culture starting from the beginning until the present day.”

Maker, his voice is so nice, with a sultry modulated tone. Maybe you could get used to this. At least the boring topics will have a soothing feel to them.

That is if you pay attention. Because all of a sudden class is over and you didn’t retain a single piece of information. Great.

As you leave the classroom you glance over your shoulder and get one last look at Professor Djarin. He notices and his visor locks onto you, so you look away quickly and feel your cheeks go hot.

Upon entering the hallway your friends say, “Total snooze fest, right?” followed by a laugh.

“I mean…” you respond.

“Don’t tell me you actually enjoyed that,” Mione says.

“I didn’t enjoy it. I just think his voice is nice.”

“Maybe it would be nicer if he wasn’t talking about the most mind-numbing topics in the world,” Helia says.

“Yeah… I wasn’t paying attention,” you admit.

“Oof, don’t make that a habit if you actually want to pass. I have no idea how this guy grades,” Helia says, pretending to scold you.

“Oh, he seems like a total hardass,” you snort.

You all groan in unison. Here’s to the start of a long semester.

It’s been a few weeks since your class with Professor Djarin started. You’ve been doing… alright. It’s been a little tough to pay attention between zoning out to the sound of his deep voice or your friends goofing off. You got a B+ on your last paper, not your best but also not your worst! It was a paper on the Siege of Mandalore during the Clone Wars, so lots of information and also a heavy topic.

You’ve also come to a realization you haven’t shared with your friends… Professor Djarin is hot, like really hot. You don’t even know what he looks like under all the armor but between that voice and the way he saunters into the classroom and the way he tilts his helmet to the side whenever he’s listening to someone talk, and- Kriff, you got it bad.

You’re not even subtle about it, fully checking him out as he’s in the middle of lectures, admiring the way he rests a hand in his belt… the arrow on his glove pointing directly to where his cock is under his flight suit.

Class is about to get a lot worse for you though. Because you’re sitting in the back like you and your friends typically do. And Professor Djarjn is explaining the Mandalorian phrase “This is the way” and… you all can’t stop laughing.

“This is wayyy,” Helia says in the sassiest but also quietest voice she can muster.

“This is the wahhh,” Mione says, holding back her own laughter.

It shouldn’t be funny but it is. And you’re doing your best to stifle your laughs but it’s hard, threatening to rip themselves free from your throat. You swipe the tears from the corners of your eyes and blink a few times to regain focus to see… Professor Djarin staring directly at you.

“Oh kriff, guys stop it,” you say, lightly slapping Helia on the arm.

“What?” she asks before following your gaze and realizing what’s going on. “Oh,” she lets out softly.

For the rest of the class you don’t look at each other, because if you do the laughter threatens to come back. Thankfully, Professor Djarin didn’t say anything. Maybe it’ll all be okay.

Class is over finally and you get ready to leave. But before you pass through the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder followed by your name being called out. It’s Professor Djarin. You don’t even need to turn around to confirm it. The voice is a dead giveaway.

You turn around to face the stone-cold glare of the T-shaped visor and take a deep breath.

“Can you stay back for a moment?”

“S-Sure.”

“You guys don’t have to wait. I’ll catch up with you later,” you say to your friends, both of them looking like they’ve seen a ghost judging by their clammy, panicked appearance.

This has to be about what happened in class just now. What else could it possibly be?

But if this is about being reprimanded… Why isn’t he making them stay after class, too?

He walks past you and locks the door, before turning to you and saying, “Meet me by my desk.”

He heads down to the desk and you gulp. Why did he lock the classroom door? This can’t be good.

You head down the steps and set your bag on an empty chair before walking over to him, facing him and his glaring stance.

“Do you know why I’m speaking to you privately right now?”

“Look, if this is about what me, Helia and Mione were doing, I’m sorry. I meant no disrespect. I was trying not to laugh but-”

“Oh, before we even get to the topic of that. We need to talk about you eyeing me up and down like a piece of meat, in my own classroom.”

“Uhh-”

“Oh yes, I noticed, pretty girl. Doesn’t help that you’re so obvious about it.”

You’re mortified right now, completely skipping over the fact that he called you pretty girl. As soon as this little talk is over, you’re heading to your advisor’s office and dropping this class.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” you manage to spit out.

“That’s all you have to say?”

“W-what do you want me to say?”

“How about I’m sorry, sir?”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“I don’t think that’s enough. I think you need to be punished.”

“What? Please, sir. I’ve already apologized.”

“And I said I don’t think that’s enough, pretty girl. Bend over the desk.”

You can’t deny how hot this is. Being disciplined by the hot professor? Never in your wildest dreams did you think this would happen, especially in this class.

You move around to the back of the desk, bending over and resting on your elbows. You picked the worst day (or maybe the best day) to wear a skirt. As you bend over, your skirt rides up, exposing more of your thighs. He moves behind you, running his gloved hands along your soft flesh.

“And who do you think you are? Wearing this short skirt to my class like a whore. Did you want my attention?”

“Maybe…”

“What was that?” he says, resting a hand on your ass. You also picked the worst day (or again, maybe the best day) to go commando. You shiver at the feeling of the leather against your bare ass.

“Yes, sir,” you say, gasping at the end of your sentence as he runs finger along your entrance. You’re already soaked, having fantasized about him in every class since you laid eyes on him. And of course he notices, bringing his hand in front of your face to show you the physical proof.

“Dirty, dirty girl, getting wet in class while I’m just trying to teach… Time for you to get punished.”

He moves his hand from your face and spanks you on the ass, the leather colliding with your skin. You let out a moan, the stinging feeling left on your skin in the aftermath.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” he rasps by your ear.

Another spank. Another moan, this one deeper than the last.

“Dirty girl likes getting punished over my desk, doesn’t she?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe out, getting off from the sound of his voice and the feeling of his gloves on your ass.

“Thought so,” he tuts, drawing his hand back and spanking your ass again.

You moan again and he says, “I don’t think the spanking is enough. I think you need a real punishment.”

“Please, sir.”

He runs his hand along your wetness again before sliding a finger inside, slowly working your walls before adding a second one. You think about his gloved fingers, pumping in and out of you. Kriff, that thought drives you crazy.

“You get to cum when I say so, got it? And don’t even think about coming without telling me, or I’ll pull out so fast.”

You whine in response, prompting him to grab you by the throat and pull you upright against him.

“Got it?” he reiterates.

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Be a good girl for me,” he teases, letting go of your throat and bending you over the desk again.

He curls his fingers inside you, pressing up against your g-spot. You feel your pleasure mounding, teetering on the edge of orgasm. You do your best to hold off, to wait for his approval but it’s too hard.

“Please, sir. Can I cum?”

“Not yet,” he commands.

You whimper in response, fearing you won’t be able to hold on and you’ll be punished.

“Please, sir,” you beg, the desperation heavy in your voice.

“Fine,” he sighs, feigning kindness.

You cum around his fingers, his leather-clad fingers, shaking against the desk. You shake a little bit, knees threatening to give out just from being fingered. He pulls his fingers from you once you’re done coming, spreading your release around his cock and slamming into you, giving you no time to recover.

“Oh, kriff,” you curse, walls adjusting to the newfound length and girth inside you.

“You can take it,” he commands.

“Yes, sir,” you spit in between your labored breathing.

His hands grip your hips tightly as he fucks you against the desk, making it shake beneath you. He pulls you into him as he thrusts back into you, making your ass slam up against his groin, all while he talks you through it.

“Dirty girl likes taking my cock over my desk, huh?”

“It’s- it’s so good, sir,” you respond, completely blissed out.

“Oh, I know. And you’re taking it like such a good girl,” he praises.

You whimper at his praise and stars cloud your vision, the euphoria swirling throughout your body.

“Can I please cum?”

“I suppose since you’re taking my cock so good, pretty girl.”

His praise does it again, pushing you over the edge. You cum around his cock, convulsing and gripping him as you ride out your high. The lecture hall is filled with the sounds of your moans and cries as he fucks you through your release.

“Good girl,” he praises, his voice dripping with his own pleasure.

He grunts and you feel his cock twitch inside you. Kriff, he’s going to cum soon. Before you can even tell him to pull out he’s painting your insides with his release, holding your hips in place. He pulls out of you once he’s done and you collapse onto the desk, your knees finally giving out.

There’s a layer of wetness in between you and the desk. Professor Djarin chuckles and says, “Look at you. Made a mess all over my desk.”

You pull yourself off and smooth down your skirt, averting your gaze to the floor.

“Sorry about that,” you say sheepishly.

“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckles again.

“Well, uh, I’m sorry about what happened in class earlier. It won’t happen again,” you respond, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

You grab your bag off the chair and quickly head out. But before you can leave through the door, he says, “Feel free to stay late after the next class,” in a sly tone, hands on hips.

You nod, feeling your face go hot, and dart out the door.

Yeah, you’re definitely not dropping his class now.

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Special thank you to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for helping me come up with the title and for beta reading!

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#din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #din djarin #din djarin au #professor!din djarin #din djarin x f!reader #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #star wars smut #star wars

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maycat-19-142 · 1 year

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Random helia headcannon

⚠️: non

A/n: fluff

[Y/w/c] =your wing color

He meet you on the first day of him joining sky and Timmy's team. You where in your enchantix form. You were training with stella. Helia was just starting as Brandon said "which winx are you looking at" " the one with [y/w/c] wings." Helia answers looking at Brandon "hay [y/n], stella meet helia" Brandon yelled as you and stella looked over to see a very red helia and a smiling Brandon.

Have a good day and night 🌙

Pixie out 🧚‍♀️

#pixie #pixie rants #fluff #x reader #fem reader #gn🌌#male reader #winx x reader #winx club helia #winx helia #winx club #helia x reader

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yan-senna · 2 years

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I Love Him, Not You Two! (Severus Snape, Helia, Valtor)

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Navigation ϟ Masterlist ϟ WIPs

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Introduction:

Y/N is together with Severus Snape, a wizard from another dimension. However, two other guys have fallen for her as well - Helia and Valtor.

This is a request from @misskitty1912-blog. Thank you for your request!

This is a crossover between Winx Club and Harry Potter.

I hope you enjoy!

Published: 7/4/2022

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Author’s note:

This was really fun writing! It reminds me of when I was writing book 2 of The Keeper of the Diamond which I really miss.

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Word count: 1.5k

TW: Jealousy and weapons

Today is the day. Today the Winx Club and the Specialists will defeat Valtor and the Trix once and for all - they have to. The four of them have caused too much chaos to the Magical Dimension. It has to end today.

Bloom’s chubby oldest sister, Y/N, looks at her boyfriend as they wait for the boys to show up with their airship. She smiles to herself while admiring him - Severus Snape.

The way they met is a rather strange story.

Around a year ago or so, the Winx had to stop the Trix from causing chaos - just like they usually do. However, when they got there to beat them, they had no idea the three of them were in possession of a new spell that would turn all light creatures into stone.

Except that the spell backfired - instead of turning everyone into stone, a man appeared out of the blue. It was a wizard from another dimension, a dimension they had never heard about.

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Continue reading on AO3 or Wattpad

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#severus snape #snape #severus snape x reader #snape x reader #helia #winx helia #valtor #winx valtor #pro snape #snapedom #snape community #snape fandom #snape fanfic #snape fanfiction #snape fic #valtor fanfic #harry potter crossover #winx club crossover #crossover

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whiskeynwriting · 11 months

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Carnal Conviction

Paz Vizsla x Female reader

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Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Alcohol consumption, sex work/stripping, size kink, spanking, hair pulling, hickies, voyeurism, f|f activities, female masturbation, oral (m receiving), unprotected vaginal sex

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A/N: I enjoyed this way too much, WAY TOO MUCH!!! Thank you always to my amazing beta-reader @thesleepingmusicneek (she’s literally the BEST)

Verd - Soldier/Warrior. Pronounced (vaird)

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Paz Vizsla Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

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At this point, it’s comfortable for him. The surrounding setting has become a place he prefers, an establishment he can relax in. Above all other patrons, Paz and his brothers were favored. The owner respected the creed, and that respect also radiated to the employees. Whatever the Mandalorians needed, the owner gave. There was also the small expectation of protection that came with this type of treatment that the Mandalorians were more than happy to provide. But tonight, Paz didn’t have anything like that on his mind.

When he first began to frequent this place, the lights and music were easily overbearing. It became difficult to see at times and this coupled with the loud sounds disoriented him. This, on top of the drinks being served, dulled his senses. But these drinks also helped to calm him, and arouse him.

Instantly, he’s greeted by multiple women working this particular night. Their pretty smiles, the way they nibble their lips and reach for his pauldrons, it did wonders to him. How amazing it was to be so utterly wanted, and wanted by many.

“Hey, Big Blue.” One woman greets, grinning up at him.

Glancing down, his head rolls to the side a bit, hand coming up to gently tap her chin. She always was so flirtatious.

“Elara.” He returns kindly, that deep voice shivering down her spine. She knows all too well the type of pleasure he can bring.

“You sound tired,” She pouts, running a hand down the armor covering his chest. “Why don’t you come relax with me?”

Beneath his Beskar, he grins. “Let me get a drink.”

Her moue expression does nothing to stop him as he walks off, sure that she’ll return to her stage. When he’s ready, he’ll come find her. But for now, he wants to watch.

This was something relatively new to him, these voyeuristic tendencies. It only began when he entered the club, and never occurred outside of it. The dancers here didn’t just strip, they were usually active with each other, too. Seeing two women kiss, touch each other, it made his body run wild. And within the club’s private rooms, he’s even had women touch themselves in front of him. That was something incredibly new for him. He never was one to have sex with multiple women at once; when he was ready to take someone back to a room, it’d always be just one. But on the stage? He loved watching those women interact with each other.

Free of payment, as usual, Paz grabs his choice drink before walking toward the area where the women perform. Usually, he’ll drink it in private before engaging with one of the girls. With a short grunt, he takes a seat, spreading his legs and leaning back against the comfortable chair.

Tonight, he can identify each woman by name. Helia and Vega, two dancers who frequently touched each other, Nova, with her long brown hair and curvy body, Trina’s gorgeous red hair and tight body. And then there were his favorites, girls he’s taken in private rooms many times. Venus, Cybele, and of course, Elara. It’s been years since a new girl has appeared, but it’s not like he minds.

He can feel his heartbeat rise as he watches with intent, Nova eyeing him as she dances. Sliding down the pole, she spreads her legs for him, trailing a hand down her thigh. Visibly, his head tilts in her direction, breaths becoming deep as he eyes the dainty piece of fabric keeping her modesty. It’s been quite some time since he pulled her aside, maybe she’ll be the one for him tonight. But this thought is fleeting, his attention now turning to the back curtains. Venus appears from behind the shades, grinning brightly with a certain excitement jumping through her veins. And then, she’s turning back around, reaching through the drapes of fabric to pull on a small pair of hands.

And then, you.

Paz has never seen you before.

Immediately, he’s intrigued, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. You look heavenly, so feminine and sweet. He’s already imagining your taste to be just as pleasant. The way your body wears your little costume, it’s taking his fucking breath away. The top holding your breasts together crosses over your chest, looping up around your neck. And leading his eyes down the path to your cleavage is a thin, silver chain long enough to touch your ribs. Thin fabric is looped around your hips, holding up a longer cloth that drapes between your legs. A teasing piece of fabric, incredibly thin, but just enough to hide your sex. Two silver chains also hang around your attractive waist, twinkling beneath the stage’s many lights as you sway.

Paz has yet to see a woman in this space wear something like this, and he’s sure no one would wear it as well as you; nobody here has your body type, and he’s already dying for a taste of it. The pieces cradling your plump breasts and what he’s sure to be heaven between your legs, are almost like petals to him. Petals covering the true beauty of the newest and brightest flower. One he’s ready to pluck from the garden.

In what appears to be a comforting gesture, Venus brings you in, cupping your face as she delivers a graceful kiss. Instantly, Paz feels himself fully harden, adjusting his position as he takes in a heavy breath. He watches as you smile against her lips, hands lifting to her upper chest, sliding down along her breasts. As you trail down her body, Paz witnesses you squeeze her chest, and outwardly groans from it. And when your hands land on her hips, curling around to cup her ass, he all but loses it.

“Ready for me?”

Turning, he’s forced out of his sultry haze as he now faces Elara once again.

“Who is that?” He asks, avoiding her question.

Pointing in your direction, Elara follows his hand, sighing dramatically as she rolls her eyes. Hands on her hips, she stares at him. “Of course, you want the new girl.”

“How could I not?” Easily, his visor returns to you. “Where did you find her?”

Watching the way you kiss Venus, your tongue sliding out as she leads you toward the center of the stage, Elara releases another breath. “Coruscant.”

“There’s no way you found her on Coruscant.” Paz scoffs, eyes unwavering.

“We did!” She claims, continuing with, “But she’s originally from Naboo.”

“There we go.” Paz responds smugly. “That makes much more sense.”

“So… you want her?”

“Fuck yes.” His response is instant, voice full of lust and anticipation. But then, his tone becomes stern, authoritative and demanding. “Bring her to me.”

For as demanding and cocky as he was, the girls were surprisingly taken with Paz. Maybe it had something to do with his height, his large body, his bulging muscles, his heroic armor.

As you reach for the nearest poll, Elara hops up onto the stage. While approaching you, she watches as you slide onto it with ease, your lean muscles flexing as you move over the smooth, tall metal. And beneath his Beskar cover, Paz is wetting his lips at the sight of it, the sight of you. The way you dance is elegant, seductive, swaying your hips to each note swirling through the club’s current song.

When the older woman walks up to you, she easily grabs your attention. Leaning in with a smirk, she whispers into your ear. And then, your eyes are flickering over to him, going wide before a bashful smile takes over your pretty features. And then, Paz sees you blush. Oh maker, he’s going to wreck you.

Elara speaks to you again, her mouth moving though Paz can hear none of her words. Turning back in her direction, your smile doesn’t leave, now nodding eagerly. There it is, he has you.

Observing you from a distance, Paz soon sees you close that gap. Slowly, you make your way down the stage steps, strutting languidly in his direction. And as you make your way over, he eyes every inch of you, taking his time roaming your body. He can’t wait to feel you pressed up against him, grinding over his lap, your pretty face just inches from him.

“Hi,” Your demure nature only serves to heighten his want for you. “The girls say you’re interested in me.”

“Very much so.” Exhaling the words, he leans back in his chair, arms resting up on either side of him.

An air of confidence just radiates from him, his large stature quite intimidating. But not daunting. And as you move closer to him, the excitement of it all continues to heighten. Standing between his spread legs, you lean in, hands resting on his pauldrons as you begin to situate yourself over him.

“I’ve never had a Mandalorian before.” And that admission sends him.

“I’ve never had you before.” He easily returns, voice airy and raspy.

While climbing onto his lap, Paz restrains himself from moving, allowing you to get comfortable on him. Your knees bend, resting on either side of his hips as you situate yourself, hands sliding down to his chest once you’re settled.

“Guess we’ll both have a first tonight.”

Mere inches away, your chest now rests before him, taunting him. Your thighs tighten on either side of him, now lifting yourself to grind over his crotch. The action is slow and soft, gentle, hips swaying in graceful circles while your pretty face holds that enticing grin.

“Can I have your name?” Your voice is sweet as you say it, hands rising to either side of his helmet.

In the blink of an eye, this man’s hands are on your own, quickly dropping his drink onto the side table. Paz witnesses your movement pause, your face full of caution. Amidst his bruising grip, the Mandlorian’s low voice rumbles, “The helmet stays on.”

At this, he expects you to run, to curl in on yourself and completely regret the action. It’s happened with the other women here, they all reacted that way when it first happened, before they got… used to him. And it’s not that he meant to scare you, it was just his natural reflex.

To Paz’s utter shock, you smirk, leaning in to kiss the space you’re sure his lips are beneath his outer, metal skin. And it fucking melts him. At this very moment, he knows all you want to do is please him. With his chest tightening, his fingers do the opposite, loosening their hold on your much smaller wrists.

“So,” Returning to your seated position, you wiggle your hips over him, grinding your bare clit down onto his codpiece. “Your name?”

He’s genuinely stunned by your casual response, but takes it in stride, nonetheless. For a beat, he thinks on this name business. No one here knows his name, not the girls, not the owner, no one. And honestly, nobody’s ever cared to ask. Mando was tossed around to pretty much every Mandalorian to ever walk a planet’s surface.

“Verd.” He finally decides on, wanting to give you an actual name. Although, the Mando’a word isn’t exactly a name, more of a title. But it’ll do for this scenario.

“Verd.” Repeating the word only prompts your grin to grow, hips rolling over his. “I like it.”

When you repeat the word, something is set alight within him. Hearing you speak Mando’a makes his pulse quicken, his throat running dry while he watches you dance. And suddenly, he feels your hands on his own, guiding them toward your angelic body. Even though his gloves are rough and worn, in desperate need of conditioning, you place them on your hips. Inside, Paz’s heart pounds against his ribs; he wants to explore you further.

“Do you want to touch me?”

“Will you let me?” He questions in response, fingers tightening ever so slightly.

“Yes.”

As soon as you say it, his hands are on your ass, fingers pushing aside the cloth to grab at your bare skin. It makes you gasp, feeling him haul you forward, shoving you back and forth over his lap. Appearing strong wasn’t any type of facade with him; Paz’s muscles were clearly capable of moving you in whatever way he wanted. And you move with him, leveraging yourself on his shoulders while rubbing your chest against his. Your breasts press against the smooth firmness of his armor, head dropping down to the cowl around his neck.

“I want to see you…” Breathily, you beg for him. “Some of you… can I?”

Paz can feel your fingers fumbling around the cloth, slow and careful as you wait for his answer. Disrespecting someone’s religion or creed was never a trait you harbored.

Swallowed thickly, he decides yes. “Yes, you can.”

Once he gives you permission, you find a loose piece of fabric, pulling it down to expose his skin. Leaning in, you press your lips to him, tongue poking out to drag a simple, sultry lick. And the way he groans makes you feel like you’re on fire, his head tilting back when you bite into him.

“Mm… pretty thing.”

“You think I’m pretty?” Curling into him with a bashful grin, you giggle, the sound flowing through him.

“Gorgeous.” He grunts, flattening his feet on the ground as he grinds up into you. Although, he can’t feel much through his codpiece. He’s going to need a room with you. “Perfect body…”

Leaning upright again, you sigh, taking both of his hands away from your ass and lifting them up to your chest. Lazily, his head lolls to the side, chestplate rising and falling with vigor as you guide him to cup your breasts.

“Fuck…” Squeezing them with a groan, his helmet moves side to side. “Tell me what you like.”

“You.”

“Yeah?”

Nibbling on your lip, you nod. “Yeah… big, tall…” And then you’re reaching for his arm, hand sliding down his bicep. “Strong.”

With a disbelieved scoff, Paz questions, “When the hell did you get here, huh? How the fuck did I miss you?”

“You haven’t missed anything; it’s my first night.”

Again, that familiar shiver down his spine. It prompts him to further massage your chest, head tilted up as he admires you.

“Is this your drink?”

Turning to the side, he eyes his still-full glass. “Yes.”

“Not too thirsty?”

This small observation provokes a certain thought in his mind. Reaching for it, he hums thoughtfully, lifting it to your lips. “Drink it.”

And you do so without hesitation.

While Paz holds the drink up to your mouth, his free hand continues to touch your glorious chest, trailing down the center of it and through your cleavage.

“Yes…” Listening so well already.

“Maybe I can return the favor sometime.” Comes your suggestive response, watching as he sets the glass down once again.

“Not likely, sarad’ika.” He replies, easily dismissing your comment. (Little flower)

“Hm… I like the way you speak.”

But then, all too abruptly, you’re standing. Rising from his lap, you take one last look at him.

“Maybe I can hear it again sometime.”

The way you left Paz had him wanting for more, and that’s exactly what you were going for. Throughout the night, you watch as the other dancers approach him, wanting to rub themselves over his armor and sit on his large lap, not dissimilar in the way you moved with him. To your surprise, though, he was having none of that. He spent his time watching you.

After you left him, he approached the bar once again. Ordering another glass of his favorite liquor, he then went to a private hall to down it. Here, he eyed the back rooms, listening to the gentle moans already flowing from the intimate spaces. He thought about what you’d do in those rooms, what he could do to you. He’d kill to see you naked, watch your tiny little fingers slither down to your sex, parting your lips for him, rubbing yourself for him. He imagines you’d spread your legs wide before coming to sit on his lap, riding his cock until he painted your insides white, staining you with his remnants.

He could feel it in his veins. He needed to have you, and he needed to have you tonight.

Returning to the center hall, his eyes immediately find you. Multiple men watch as you dance, some of them his own brothers, too. You’re sliding down one of the poles, leaning back against it as you squat and spread your legs. And then, one of your hands is sliding down through your hair, over your shoulder, and onto your breasts.

Taking his seat, your warrior watches as another girl brings you to her lips. Holding your cheeks, she kisses you, your hands lifting to touch her chest. He can see the way your thumbs stroke her barely covered nipples, the way you prop up your thigh between her legs. And when your tongue lays out, he finds himself wishing for a kiss. He’d love to feel your lips, your tongue, and on any part of him. Maybe tonight, you’ll be gracious.

All at once, you’re making him feel special, walking in his direction with your eyes on that intimidatingly dark visor. Staring into his eyes, into his goddamn soul, you squat down, thighs parted as your hand lowers to rub yourself.

Did she read my fucking mind?

Promptly, he stands, turning to find the owner. With his sudden movement, you’re worried you did something wrong. It dulls the excitement of the night for you, watching him strut off down the hall again.

But once he’s in the office, he’s dropping a sack of Republic credits onto the desk.

“I want her.”

“Who?”

“Your newest girl.” Paz presents with confidence.

“You don’t have to -”

“I want to pay for her.” He insists, knowing you deserve it. “I’ll be in room six.” A lucky number of his.

“How quick?” The owner calls out after him, listening to Paz’s gruff, “Quick.”

Again, Elara is tasked with pulling you aside. And your internal excitement is once again set ablaze. Knowing you didn’t scare him off makes your smile glow, your stomach fluttering with butterflies. And now, he wants a private room with you? Maker, you can’t get to that room quick enough.

“He’s already there.”

“In room six.” She smirks, hands finding her hips. “What do you think?”

“Are you kidding?” Baffled she’d even ask, you scoff. “Of course I’m going!”

“He’ll be quite a treat.” Your coworker offers a knowing look, with only a pinch of jealousy. “Have fun.”

“Wait,” Reaching out for her arm, your shyness appears once again. “What, um, what is he like?”

Instantly, her smile blossoms. “Demanding, and rough.”

A wave of anticipation rushes through your limbs, tongue poking out to timidly lick your lower lip.

“And he likes when you show off a bit.”

With that, she’s leaving, returning to her place on stage to satisfy the other men in the crowd. You wonder what that means, showing off, but you’re sure to find out. The only place you can go to now, is room number six.

There is power in this, you do have a choice. You know exactly what goes on in those rooms, and if you didn't want that, you’re more than allowed to reject him. The owner made sure of this; the safety and comfortability of his employees were among his top priorities. But honestly, you’d be a fool to reject this. To not enter this room, to not indulge carelessly in this man… would be a genuine waste.

The club’s rhythmic sounds begin to fade as you walk throughout the establishment, making your way to the back hall. The curtain covering room six’s opening has been pushed to the side, its warm yellow hue pooling into the dark corridor. He’s expecting you. And with each step, you can feel your excitement, can feel the rush of adrenaline in your veins, your ears ringing with a wild heartbeat. You’re meeting with a man you met mere hours ago, and you’re going to let him take you.

“Hi again,” With a cheeky grin, you tilt your head, eyeing the large, blue man.

That visor of his noticeably tips, analyzing your stance. The way your hips sway could convey nervousness, or excitement. And he chooses the latter, that grin of yours exposing your playfulness.

“Will you join me?”

The tips of your teeth find the thin skin of your lip, nodding as you step in. But only once or twice, just enough to be inside. Your timid nature entices him, your innocence.

Standing, this bulk of a man makes his way over to you. Reaching out, the warrior’s gaze holds your own as he closes the curtain, sealing off the room. And his towering form, that stoic expression, steals every word from your lips. It seems all you can do is stand beside him, watching his every advance.

With gentle motions, Paz undoes and removes his codpiece, revealing to you the black underclothes that lie beneath. The immediate movement of your eyes, and the quick expression you give, flatter him. Beneath the metal mask, he proudly grins, a single hand dropping to grip the tent you’ve given him. But before you can even truly admire him, he’s turning, walking back to the wide couch so he can take his seat once again.

“Come.” He then commands, voice soft but stern. Patting his thigh, he completes his request with, “Show me what you can do.”

His words offer encouragement, power, traits you snatch from the air as you approach him with interest. And once you’re close enough, his dominant hand reaches out to you, finding the delicate slope of your waist. But you reject this small advance, turning in his grasp. With your back facing him, you sit, sliding your backside along his lap.

All too easily, those covered eyes watch your hands. Slender fingers begin to undo the top tied around your neck, exposing your breasts once it falls. With a huff of arousal, he leans forward, pressing his armored chest to your back while reaching for your breasts. Warm, smooth metal presses to your cheek as he fists your tits in both hands, visor peering over your shoulder to gawk at them. And then he releases a groan, a sound that quickly turns into a growl.

Rough, just like Elara said.

A gasp escapes you when you’re pulled backwards, this warrior now resting back against the couch. Both of those meaty arms stay wrapped around you, gloved fingers plucking at your perked buds. And then, one is leaving, lowering to loop behind your knee so he can pull your leg up.

“Show me.” He demands breathily, voice already ragged. “Show me how you like to be touched.” Slinking your legs over his knees, he parts them wider, only a single piece of cloth hiding your most sacred parts.

“I like how you’re touching me.” Smirking devilishly, your eyes close, body squirming on his lap as he rubs your chest. But then, his most dominant hand is grabbing your wrist and yanking it down between your legs.

“I said show me.”

Demanding.

“Verd…” And for a moment, he’s confused. That is, until he remembers the name he’d given you.

“Ner verd.” Paz corrects, “Say it that way.”

Without question, you do, wanting to satisfy him. “Ner verd…” (My warrior…)

And for some reason, the fact that you don’t even know what you’re saying excites him that much more.

Leaning over your shoulder, he watches with hunger as you pull aside the last remaining piece of fabric. Though, he can’t see as much as he’d like at this angle; in the past, he’d had women sit across from him on this couch. Paz would have them spread their legs, exposing themselves to him while demanding they get themselves off for his entertainment. And when they were done, he’d run a hand down their sex, fingers playing with their overstimulated lips. Later, in the privacy of his own home, he’d taste it. And regardless of your current position, he knows he’ll do the same with you.

“That’s it…” Now, he approves, watching two little fingers tap against your clit. “Beautiful, sarad’ika.” (Little flower)

With a small, confident chuckle, you continue, the two of you watching as you pleasure yourself. Both of Paz’s hands stay on your chest while you do it, covered eyes witnessing the way you rub your reddened bud, the way your fingers play with your lips.

“You’re a teasing thing, aren’t you?” He hums, helmet rubbing against you softly. Giving you a single nod, he then suggests, “Tap it again… I love to see you twitch.”

On command, you do as he says, chest rising and falling beneath his hands. And the blue warrior groans when he sees it, this ginormous man shifting beneath you.

“Yes,” Paz huffs harshly in your ear, adrenaline and arousal mixing within his body. “You listen perfectly.”

“Baby…” It comes out as a whine, and it drives him wild inside.

“Pretty thing,” He hums contemplatively. “Pretty noises.”

“Touch me,” Unexpectedly, you begin to beg, turning your face to look at him. It’s as if the anticipation building inside your chest has burst, body unable to harbor any remnants. “Please.”

“Oh…” Regardless of whether or not you’re aware, Paz holds your gaze, lowering a hand from where he’d been massaging your breast. “Like this, mesh’la?” He inquires, entirely sarcastic as he knows this is the spot, he knows this is just what you like. (Beautiful)

“Yes,” Arching back against him, your hips thrust up into his touch. While reaching for his forearm, he begins to rub you faster, listening to the soft squelch your center begins to emit. “Yes - yes.”

Writhing in his arms like a fish from the sea, you’re surrounded by nothing but blue, fiercely entrancing blue. Every sound you make goes straight through him, radiating into his chest, his pelvis, the throbbing shaft between his legs. Collectively, your actions brew a sense of pride in his belly, knowing he’s brought this out of you. Like a seductive siren, you’re singing a song, reaching out to consume him entirely.

“Maker, you moan like such a fucking whore.” Spitting the words through gritted teeth, he grunts behind you, the tips of his fingers rubbing through your entrance. The hand still on your chest, grabs at you firmly, metal face pressing against your flesh. Oh, how desperate he is for it, for touch. You can see it so clearly, and you wish he’d let you give it to him.

“Ner verd…” Gloved fingers brush over the peak of your breast, caressing the pebbled flesh. “Let me touch you, please.” (My warrior…)

“Come here,” Paz complies, finding a new weak spot with this name.

Strong hands gravitate to your hips, guiding you up from his lap. Moving with his momentum, you turn, completely naked for him. And to his utter shock, he pauses, breath caught in his throat. While his face is hidden, you can practically feel his amazement, one hand sliding up to caress your stomach.

“Just like that,” He coos quietly, admiring your advancement in the absence of his own. “Get on top of me.”

Settling over his broad thighs, your hands find his helmet, bringing him in. Unknowingly, you offer an incredibly intimate sentiment; you touch your forehead to his. It’s as close to a kiss as Paz is going to get, as close as he’s ever come to it.

“Please…” Dominant hand grazing his metal chest, it follows a line down to his pelvis. And when you settle over his lap, finally palming the stiffness of him, his hold on you tightens.

Harshly, thick fingers dig into your skin, his hips rocking up into your hand while releasing a soft moan. Something tingles inside your belly, listening to this gentle sound. Not a grunt or harsh groan, but a sweet release of breath.

“Hm…” Lips quirking into a grin, you express to him, “I want it.”

With bated breath, you wait for him, now feeling a particular wetness seep through beneath your hand. The moment stills, seconds now confused with centuries. Though, it’s not agonizing, this wait; it’s thrilling.

The pads of his covered digits then rub circles along your skin, his chest dipping with a breath as he finally says, “Then take it.”

Nimble movements unzip his covering, length hot and stiff against the knuckles of your hand. Without losing his gaze, your fingers move to his base, slowly sliding around his girth and feeling the coarse hair littering his skin. Paz’s own hands move, too, still on your hips as he helps lift you above him. Resting up on your knees, the two of you glance down, eyeing the treats you’ve each been given.

Helmet tilting up, Paz grins upon seeing your amazed expression. You’ve never seen a man like this, so veiny and thick, tip bulging and prominently crimson. The hairs around his shaft and base are damp, from either sweat or prespend but truthfully, you’re hoping for a mixture of them. You can practically smell it, him, his sweat and natural musk taking over your senses. And your mouth waters from it, wishing desperately to crawl down his body so you can put your lips on him.

“Sarad’ika,” Paz calls gently, finger prodding beneath your chin and tilting it up toward him. “Don’t make me wait.” (Little flower)

“Can I…” Trailing off, your gaze lowers again. Paz sees the way you lick your lower lip, the way your eyes widen from the sight of him.

With a chuckle, he encourages you. “Be my guest.”

Once he allows it, you scramble down from his lap, falling to your knees while settling between his. Mesmerizing is the look in your eyes, eager is the movement of your lips. Leaning in, you’re immediately licking him, tongue flattening as it drags up the underside of his cock. It surprises him, just how quick you are with it, a startled gasp easily spilling from his lips. And while your mouth begins to pleasure him, your hand pumps the rest of his leaking length.

“Perfect…”

Pulling back, your hand slides up, thickest digit thumbing over his slit. It forces a jolt of pleasure through him, a single hand coming down to grab the back of your head. The other, however, falls to his base.

“You like this?” He asks lowly, stroking himself. And when you nod, curiosity overtakes him again. “What about this?”

Smacking his dick against your mouth, he watches you moan. Those gorgeous eyes of yours flutter closed, lips parting as he continues.

“I like it…” Grumbling, the timbre of his voice prompts a small wave of pleasure to rush through your hips. “Just like that, smacking it against your pretty doll face.”

Truthfully, you’d stay like this as long as he asked. On your knees between his spread legs, naked body on display while he tapped his dick against your face. Some taps are harder than others, and then there were softer hits, ones that allowed him to smear his precum over your lips.

“Take it.” Applying pressure to the back of your head, he guides you onto him once again. “Ngh, ri-right there, right down your throat.”

The ridges of your tastebuds can feel every inch of him, every vein that throbs beneath the weight of your tongue. And now, he feels himself fully thicken within the hot cavern of your mouth. But you can’t take the entirety of him; all around, he was more than sizable, his width stretching your lips to your limits. Already your jaw aches, and he hasn’t even started thrusting yet. Simply, he holds you there, keeps you pressed as far down as you’re willing to go. As the seconds pass, you can hear him grumble, hand petting lovingly at your hair. Violently, he throbs against the hot suction of your mouth, his tip entering your throat. Every pulse that runs through his erection is powerful, the pound against your mouth prompting a moan from the depths of your chest.

“You’re drooling.” He notes casually, head cocking to the side.

Just barely, you’re able to look up at him, tears already dripping from the corners of your eyes. It’s a wonderful sight, especially when you reach up to stroke the remaining length. Every bit of skin he shows has been touched, kissed and licked and sucked on until he just couldn't take it. And that’s exactly how he likes it.

The tiny fist you wrap around the base of his dick makes him grin, continuing to stroke your hair as he says, “You’re so pretty like this.”

For how rough he could be, this man also seemed to have a sweet side. Maybe he was like that with everyone, or maybe he was just like that with you.

Streaks of mascara run over your cheeks, lipstick smeared from the spit dripping down your chin. The makeup you’d worked so hard on, ruined. All from him, and it’s been done in his perfect vision. Just how he’d pictured you - on your knees, crying for him, mouth stuffed to the brim.

“Pretty little mess.” And with the way he says it, you’d think it was an insult.

The hand once petting your hair now grips it at the crown, shoving his hips up toward your mouth. Forcefully, you gag, the motion completely unexpected. But you take him as best you can, the hand around his cock now joining the other atop his thigh. It’s done to brace yourself, but he isn’t having any of that.

“No,” Paz growls, shoving your hands away. “Keep your hands down, keep them off of me.”

Obediently, you lower them both, resting loosely behind your back. And now that your hands are gone, both of his find the back of your head, repeatedly forcing you down onto him. Every thrust is accompanied with a harsh grunt, cock stiff and hot as it repeatedly punches into your mouth. His tip, red and dripping, strikes the back of your throat with every rut, every erratic and animalistic movement.

There’s nothing else for him, not in this moment. Right now, every bit of his attention is given to you, to your body and mind and everything you can bring him, everything he can bring you. Since the moment he laid eyes on your mesmerizing form, he knew he’d have you. One way or another, he was going to make you his; add you to his collection of girls. And this is just how he pictured it, even better, really. You’d already touched yourself for him, and so willingly dropped to your knees, too. He can’t remember the last time a whore sucked him off. Usually, sex was just sex; even here. Sure, he’d have his fun, but oral was never part of the deal. After a little bit of teasing, every woman here immediately got to business. But not you, and he’s liking that. You’re taking your time to satisfy him.

“Ugh,” With a wet gasp, you pull away, but only once he’s allowed it.

Every breath is ragged and hoarse and Paz’s are nearly just as rough. Allowing you this reprieve, he expects you to take it. But you’re full of surprises tonight, almost immediately diving right back in.

“Sh…” He says to you softly, gloved hand grabbing your jawline and chin. And when you look up at him, your expression is filled with such a sweetly sickening innocence. “Up.”

Climbing up his thick thighs, you find yourself wanting to meet his mouth. As if he’s thinking the same thought, his fingers move across your chin, sliding upward a bit. Using his thumb, he parts your lips, watching as you grin. With a single, simple shake of his head, he murmurs, “What I wouldn’t give to taste these lips…”

“Would you give your creed?” Teasingly, you return, mere inches from his metal skin.

“Not a goddamn chance.”

And with that, he’s reaching down and hauling you up and onto his lap. Your giggle is mixed with a tasteful gasp, hands reaching for those broad shoulders once again. Although you can’t kiss him, you can kiss his helmet, which you find comfort in doing. Pressing your lips to his metal cheek, you sigh blissfully against him. Somehow, it brings you closer to him.

Both of your warrior’s hands find the wonderful expanse of your backside, fisting it with a satisfied hum. Rocking you forward, he’s successful in brushing your smooth cunt against his shaft, another rapturous noise coming from him.

“Are you ready for me, hm?” It doesn't take long before you’re moving of your own volition, grinding against his tip and rubbing yourself all the way down his length.

“Mhm,” Forehead rubbing against the side of his helmet, you sigh, something similar to a tiny whine.

Pulling you forward onto his chest, he grunts, lifting you enough to slide his tip against your entrance. Using your hold on him as balance, you take the lead, reaching down to angle him as he begins to slide in. Easily, Paz sinks inside, every single inch slowly but surely becoming enveloping by your welcoming walls. It’s almost unfair, the expectation of this. He’s monstrously thick and pounding against your thin, sensitive skin.

“Oh,”

“Yes.”

Dragging hotly against your inner walls, he’s already stretching you to tears halfway in. Painted fingernails dig into the cowl covering his skin, wishing to touch him, to kiss and mark him. You’re certain if you pushed it away, there’d already be beautiful discolorations from your lips.

“Don’t worry, ner sarad’ika…” Paz grumbles, his hands moving over the curve of your waist. One finds purchase on your hips, while the other rises to the back of your head. With gentle force, he pulls you into him, feeling your arms loop entirely around his neck. “We’ll make it fit.” (My little flower)

“Verd,” Whimpering, your arms shake as he lowers you even more. “Ner verd.” (Warrior, my warrior)

“There you go,” Your correction forces a sense of pride to grow within his chest. “So good…”

“Fu-uck,” The cry is broken and breathy as it spills from your lips, sitting firmly on his lap.

He’s entirely inside, your ass resting against his scrotum. Even through his Beskar, he can feel the heavy rise and fall of your chest, can feel the shift of your thighs as you spread even wider to accommodate him. But then, you’re wincing, something that quickly concerns him.

“What?” Rubbing your back, he sighs, feeling your walls clench hotly around him. “Tell me.”

“Mm,” Timidly, you whimper, one hand dropping to press against one of his tassets.

“Oh,” He realizes, hands dropping down to remove the armor that must be pinching at your sweet skin. And once the tops of his thighs are uncovered, you shimmy against him, rubbing over the black fabric still covering his bulky body.

Once he’s set the plates aside, his hands run up and down your arms. “There…” He says comfortingly, hips rocking up into you. “Keep going, keep going.”

Shifting your hips, you gather yourself enough to sway against him. With both palms pressing against his cuirass, you steady your breaths in order to find a rhythm. And quickly, you do, alongside your warrior’s own eager movements. It brews inside him, the need to have you, to stretch you out and fuck you in a way you’ll remember; mold your insides to him, steal your breath and captivate your complete attention.

“That’s it, sweet little whore.”

“Baby,” His words do something ungodly to you, mixing with every ounce of exciting sin.

“Look so fucking good,” His words are breathy, body moving with yours quite smoothly. “Impaled on me.”

“Yes, yes.”

The man beneath you is big enough to lift you entirely before dropping you right back down, cockhead hitting the deepest parts of your sex. His ridges rub along your insides in the most delightful way, pressing up against the spot that makes your eyes roll and your hips sway.

“Can, can I, please…” Pawing at the covering around his neck, Paz becomes impatient, reaching up to rip it off completely.

With a breath of relief, he continues, hand returning to your ass with a harsh spank just as you move to his neck. Your body shakes with his force, the motion repeated as soon as your lips attach to his neck. You’re bouncing down on him, ass slapping against his clothed thighs.

“Fuck,” Growling, he almost can’t keep himself from doing it again, slapping your cheeks just to watch and feel them jiggle. “Fuck yourself onto me, just like that.”

His voice is deep and demanding, yet sincere and encouraging. Adrenaline rushes through your body every time you hear him speak, that slightly muffled and almost staticy voice doing wonders to your aroused state of being.

“Ner verd,” Digging your teeth into his skin prompts another quick spank, one that sends a shrill giggle straight from your chest. “Yes.”

The slightly muted sound of your naked thighs against his covered legs begins to reverberate through the room, skin against skin echoing when you bring yourself down to his pelvis. He seems to enjoy it when you mark him, sucking on his skin with a fierce sense of determination. And when you’ve deemed one spot complete, you lick it sweetly. More than you can even fathom, it satisfies him.

“Sweet thing,” The smile in his tone is evident. “My new favorite girl.”

Wrapping both arms around you, their strength prevents you from any more movement. Instead, he pulls you onto him, pistoning his hips up against your sex. The pure power and force behind his working muscles leaves you fighting for breath. And alongside his flattering words, you find yourself smitten with him.

The overwhelming sensation of him claiming your weeping cunt makes you see stars, makes you cling to him like you’d die if you didn’t. His panting breaths even fan out beneath his bulky mask, brushing over your skin and giving you a subtle taste of him. Floating through your head is the thought of his tongue, how he’d taste if you ran your own across it; how would he kiss you? How would his lips feel? How would they move?

“I want to claim you.” Voice deep and rumbling, he goes on to say, “Fill you to the brim with nothing but my seed.”

“I want that,” Nodding, you cling to him, his body firm and strong and Maker, how did you get him? “I want it.”

“Fill this sweet cunt, plug it with my cum.” It’s almost like he’s rambling, talking himself up to the point of an earth-shattering orgasm. “Say it to me.”

“Hm?”

“Th - my name. Say my name.” Amidst his excitement, his clouded mind, he’d almost forgotten.

“Ner verd.” And the way you say it makes his entire existence float away with something akin to yearning, longing. (My warrior)

Inside, you feel fuzzy, needy and tingling with overwhelming bliss. The way he fucks up into you is sloppy, desperate to cum inside the warmth you’ve given him. You feel like a toy, nothing but entertainment for him. And you’re more than fine with satisfying that expectation.

Driving his hips upward, something in him seems to break. Choking on his own breaths, he grunts, seeking out your wet warmth as he releases inside.

“Soft fucking insides, so warm and welcoming - fuck. I’m gonna cum in it,” Squeezing you in his arms, his hips stutter, jerking against your core. “I’m gonna cum inside…”

“Y-Yes,” Dragging your nails down his neck, you witness the evidence of your own pleasure painting his skin red.

The force of his high brings on your own, rutting over his lap as you try desperately to rub your clit onto him. It brushes over his pelvis, over the coarse hairs littering his base as you shake in each other’s arms, wanton moans floating freely through the room and out into the hall. Rope after rope fills your channel, the white liquid flooding your most sensitive space. And it milks him for every drop, clenching around his girth as your own high wrings every bit of pleasure from your limbs. Shivering through your body, he holds you through the overwhelming pleasure of it, listening to your feminine moans and reveling in the fact that he’s caused them.

One hand then drops to your backside, squeezing you kindly once again. Giving you an easy tap, he clears his throat, sighing into relaxation. It’s obvious when he calms, body slumping slightly into his seat. Resting back against the cushions, he urges you to lay on his chest, smiling to himself when you do. It’s always comforted him, this brief sense of intimacy after sex.

His next words are genuine, a promise he intends to keep. “I’ll be seeing you again.”

#Paz Vizsla #baby daddy #Paz Vizsla x you #Paz Vizsla x reader #Paz Vizsla x female reader #Paz Vizsla smut #Star Wars #Star Wars fanfiction

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