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glittervame · 10 days

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Tripped and fell into his bed...

Pt 1.Bad Idea right?, Pt 2 - Tripped and fell into his bed

Smut +18 MDI, Wrap it before you tap it (Surppries!) Male!Reader x Luke

Y/n and his friends are at the bar again.

The air was thick with the smell of stale beer and sweat as Y/n and his friends crowded around the jukebox, arguing over what song to play next. It was just another night at their favorite dive bar, and they were determined to make it memorable. Y/n was definitely more than tipsy, and you could tell by his flushed face, slurred speech, and the way he kept losing his balance that he was having a good time.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a familiar number flashing on his phone screen. It was Luke, his ex. They hadn't spoken since the messy breakup a few months ago, and Y/n had been doing his best to avoid him. But tonight, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity. He looks around at all of his friends and orders another drink from the bar tender, a girl to his left twirling her hair around her finger, flirting and fluttering her eyelashes at him.

He unlocks his phone and sees the text from Luke: "Hey, you. It's been a while. I've been thinking about you. Can I call you later?" His heart skips a beat and his palms start to sweat. Part of him wants to ignore it, pretend like it never came in, but another part of him can't help but feel a tugging at his chest. He types back a short reply, "i'll think about it"

The rest of the night passes in a blur of laughter, music, and more drinks. When the clock strikes two, and the bar begins to empty out, Y/n finds himself outside with his friends planning to go to a strip club, his brain was already buzzing though, like static was playing in his brain, and he just couldn't focus.

So he does what another friend does and follows them to the club, stumbling after them as they laugh and talk loudly down the street. He tugs his flannel off and ties it around his waist, trying to cool himself off.

As they enter the club, the flashing lights and loud music assault their senses, and Y/n feels a wave of nausea wash over him. He leans against the wall, trying to steady himself as he watches his friends make their way through the crowd towards the stage. The dancers gyrate and spin, their bodies on display for the leering men around them, and Y/n can't help but feel a pang of sadness for them.

He tries to push these thoughts aside, reminding himself that he's here to have a good time, but the more he drinks, the harder it becomes. The air grows thick with the smell of sweat and desperation, and he can't shake the feeling that something isn't quite right. As he wanders aimlessly through the club, his gaze drifts towards the exit, before he could make his way over a friend pulls him over by the arm to the rest of his friends that were gathered around a woman dancing on a pole.

"Dude, come check this out! This chick is amazing!" Y/n's friend practically shouts into his ear, jerking his arm roughly. Reluctantly, he pulls away and follows their gaze to where they're all staring. A tall, curvy woman with long, dark hair is spinning on the pole, her body moving in fluid motions that seem to defy gravity. She catches Y/n's eye and smiles seductively, beckoning him closer. His friends notice and push him closer to her, laughing and egging him on.

"Come on, Y/n! Have a good time!" His friend shouts over the music, slapping him on the back. With a sigh, Y/n moves closer to the stage, feeling the weight of his inhibitions pressing down on him. As he watches the dancer, something about her movement is different from the others. There's a grace and fluidity that's almost hypnotic. She catches his eye again, her lips parting in a smile.

He gets another notification on his phone and glances down to see another message from Luke. It was just his new address, a simple, "Thought you might want this." Y/n's heart skips a beat again, but this time it's different. There's something… hopeful about it. He doesn't respond this time instead he tells his friends he's going to the bathroom but he slips out the clubs door instead.

Outside, the cool night air feels good on his skin, and he takes a deep breath, trying to clear his head. He walks to his car, unlocks it, and sinks into the driver's seat. He glances at his phone again, still undecided about what to do about Luke's messages. As he sits there, staring at the club in the distance, he can't help but feel a little guilty about leaving his friends there, he brushes it off though and starts his car up.

He text his friends that he's going home because he doesn't feel good and going to get some sleep, and then he turns his phone off. He takes a deep breath and starts the car, then he decides to drive to the address Luke had sent him. It's an apartment complex not far from the club, fairly fancy. He parks his car and walks up the steps hesitating for a second.

He's nervous but his blood has liquid courage in it so he knocks anyway. when the door opens and reveals a shirtless Luke he can't even remember why he broke up with him in the first place. He looks even better without a shirt on, his muscles gleaming in the dim light of the hallway.

"Got your text…" Y/n mumbles as his eyes trace down Luke's front following his happy trail to where it disappears into his jeans. His face flushes and Luke smirks. "You gonna come in?" he offers, stepping aside to let him in.

"I…don't know why I'm here…" Y/n replies, feeling the alcohol in his system making it hard to think straight. He shake his head trying to clear his head, "I just… I wanted to see where you were living… and… and I wanted to talk to you."

"Talk?" Luke's smirk turns into a smile, "You never want to just talk, Y/n. You always have a hidden motive."

"Fine." Y/n snaps, "I just wanted to tell you that we shouldn't do this anymore. That's all. That's all I needed to say." He turns to leave but Luke stops him with a hand on his arm.

"But you're here, aren't you?" Luke's voice is softer now, "That means something."

Y/n looks at the hand on his arm and swallows hard. He can feel the warmth of Luke's skin, and his heart starts to race. "Yeah, I know." He says finally, "It's just… I don't know if I can do this again."

They sit down on the couch, the room spinning slightly around Y/n. Luke's apartment is messy, but it's a comfortable mess. Like he's lived here for a while and just hasn't had the energy to clean. There's a pile of laundry in the corner and empty takeout containers on the coffee table.

"I've missed you." Luke says finally, his thumb tracing circles on Y/n's hand. "A lot."

Y/n can't bring himself to look at him. "You hurt me, Luke." He whispers, "A lot."

"I know. And I'm sorry." Luke's voice is earnest, "But I've changed. I've had time to think and I know what I want now."

"What do you want?" Y/n asks, his voice hoarse.

"I want you." Luke says simply, "I want us to work. I want to be the person you need."

Y/n sighs, "But what if you're not?"

"Then I'll try harder." Luke leans in, his breath warm against Y/n's cheek, "I'll keep trying until I get it right."

Why didn't you try then?

The room is spinning faster now, and Y/n can feel the pull of Luke's proximity. The scent of him, the heat of his body, it's all so familiar and yet so alien. "I don't know if I can trust you again." He admits.

"You don't have to trust me now." Luke says, "You just have to give me a chance to earn it back."

Y/n looks into Luke's eyes, searching for the truth. They're filled with a mix of hope and sadness, and he can see that Luke is being sincere. He doesn't know if it's the alcohol or the nostalgia, but he feels something give way inside of him. He leans in, and before he knows it, their lips are pressed together in a kiss that's hungry and desperate.

It's like all the anger and pain from their breakup is being washed away in the heat of the moment. They kiss for what feels like an eternity, until Y/n's head is swimming and he has to pull back for air.

"Okay." He says, "I'll give you a chance. But if you mess this up again…" Y/n trails off, not quite sure what the consequences would be but knowing that he couldn't go through another heartbreak.

"You won't have to worry about that." Luke whispers, leaning in to kiss him again. This time it's slower, more deliberate. Y/n's heart is racing, and he can feel his resolve slipping away.

They move to the bedroom, the floor littered with clothes and the bed unmade. But Y/n doesn't care. He's been craving this contact for months, and the feel of Luke's skin against his is like coming home. They undress each other clumsily, fumbling with buttons and zippers, eager to feel more of each other.

Their bodies intertwine on the bed, and Y/n can't help but let out a soft moan as Luke's hand trails down his chest. He's missed this so much. The way Luke's hands know exactly where to touch him, how to make him feel alive. He wraps his arms around Luke's neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

Their kiss grew more urgent as their hands began to explore each other's bodies. Y/n felt the warmth of Luke's skin beneath his fingertips, his muscles tensing and relaxing in response to his touch. Luke's hands roamed over Y/n's back, tracing the line of his spine down to the small of his waist, where he gently pulled him closer.

They broke apart for a moment, panting, their eyes searching for a silent confirmation that this was what they both wanted. Finding it, Y/n leaned in again, this time more confidently, and deepened the kiss. Their tongues danced together as they slowly began to undress each other, their movements deliberate and purposeful.

The coolness of the room contrasted with the heat between them as they removed their shirts, revealing the toned chests that had once been so intimately acquainted. Luke's hands traveled up Y/n's arms, pushing the fabric over his shoulders and down his back. Y/n returned the favor, feeling the warmth of Luke's skin and the smoothness of his chest.

They continued to kiss as they unbuckled each other's belts and unzipped their pants. Their breath grew heavier, their bodies pressing closer together as the layers of clothing fell away. The sound of their clothes dropping to the floor was a soft echo in the otherwise silent room.

Finally, they were both naked, their bodies entwined as they lay down on the bed. The softness of the sheets brushed against their skin as they rolled over each other, their hands never stopping their exploration. Luke's mouth traveled down Y/n's neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses that made him shiver with pleasure.

Y/n's hands found their way to Luke's firm thighs, his fingers digging into the muscle as Luke's lips moved to his chest. The sensation was stimulating, and Y/n could feel his body responding, his arousal growing with every touch.

Without a word, Luke shifted his position, moving down the bed. His eyes never left Y/n's as he took him in his mouth, the warmth and wetness of his mouth sending shockwaves of pleasure through Y/n's body. He moaned, his head falling back into the pillow, as Luke's skilled tongue worked its magic.

Y/n's hips began to buck, his body moving in a rhythm that was impossible to resist. Luke's grip on his thighs tightened, holding him in place as he took him deeper. The pleasure was intense, and Y/n could feel his climax building, the tension coiling in his lower belly.

As Y/n's moans grew louder, Luke pulled away, his eyes smoldering with desire. "Do you want me inside you?" he whispered, his voice thick with want.

Y/n nodded, unable to form words, his breath coming in gasps. Luke reached for the bedside drawer, his hand shaking slightly as he retrieved a bottle of lube. He coated his fingers, then slid them down between Y/n's legs, teasing his entrance before pushing in gently.

The sensation was exquisite, and Y/n's body responded eagerly, his muscles relaxing to accept Luke's touch. Luke stroked him slowly, watching Y/n's face intently, reading every expression of pleasure. When he was ready, Luke positioned himself, the head of his erection nudging against Y/n's entrance.

With a deep breath, Y/n nodded again, and Luke pushed inside, filling him completely. They both groaned at the sensation, the feeling of being connected after so long apart. Luke began to move, setting a steady rhythm that had Y/n's hips rising to meet him.

Their bodies moved in unison, the only sounds in the room their gasps and moans. The rain outside had picked up, now a soothing white noise that complemented the rhythmic slap of skin on skin.

Y/n wrapped his legs around Luke's waist, pulling him closer, deeper. He could feel the familiar tingle in his spine, the signal that he was close. "I'm going to come," he managed to say, his voice strained with passion.

"Me too," Luke grunted, his pace increasing.

Their climaxes hit them simultaneously, their bodies tightening and releasing in a symphony of pleasure. They held onto each other tightly, their hearts racing, as they rode the waves of ecstasy together.

As they lay there, panting and tangled in the sheets, the rain outside had turned into white noise, a comforting reminder of the outside world that was temporarily forgotten.

Just tripped and fell into his bed...

#y/n #bottom male reader #fypシ #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke #lukey pookie #pjsk #smut #bad idea #olivia rodrigo

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whiskeynwriting · 1 year

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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

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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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