#Darth Maul x reader

[skyw4lkerken0bi]

Oh he’s MEAN when he fucks you,

He fucks you like he hates you, having you bent over in doggy. your lovers large hand gripping your hip while the other presses down on your back, deepening your arch to the point you KNOW you’ll be hurting tomorrow. His gaze locked in on where you two are connected, groaning when he sees the white ring forming around the base of his cock. He’s already ripped four orgasms out of you, knowing he won’t stop until you’re a trembling, mumbling mess. Once he’s got you how he wants you, he’ll wrap his arm under you, rolling and pinching your clit between his fingers, letting out a chuckle when you cry out, right before squirting all over his hand and the sheets below you…

Darth Maul, Anakin, Kylo Ren, General Hux

[lordofthenerds97]

Um

Hello

I am frothing at the mouth and I would very much like to be in this exact situation, thank you

This is absolute art and I am here for it

Force help me

Another ancient text from my huge backlog, written over many a catastrophic ovulation.

Maul x reader, 9000 words. 18+

cw: ever so slightly dubious consent, graphic depictions of violence

The slave drivers staff rapped sharply against the tiles of the huge hall as he came to a stop in the centre of the room. He leaned his weight on it, bony wrists jutting from the bright silk robes. He white-knuckled the metal and fidgeted foot-to-foot as he waited for the Zabrak to address him. Maul draped across his throne. He inspected his nails, radiating disinterest.

“Is this the troublesome thing that’s been disrupting my mines?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Let me have a look at it.”

Your captor slammed his shoulder into your back to send you forward. You didn’t budge.

“My Lord,” The weaselly man spoke up, grunting as his next shove failed to move you yet again. “I’d be more than happy to dispose of the fucking thing. Right now, if necce-“

“The fucking thing has a name.” You snapped, lurching at the feel of a hand at your waist. Without a better mind to stop yourself, you elbowed your way out of his grip and took a few steps towards the throne. You heart seized as you willingly walked towards the presence across the hall of Mandalore, so ominous that you couldn’t drag your eyes up from the particular tile that they refused to move from. Your skin buzzed with nerves, every motion feeling staggered as your body screamed at you to run away from the owner of the smooth voice ahead. It took you a few torturous seconds you lift you gaze.

The sight of him froze the panic pumping around your body into a pure, cold fear.

Maul reclined in his throne, legs spread and posture straight. He was a goddamned predator. By design and by the murderous intent emanating from him. His red, tattooed skin and those sharp horns were terrifying, but they didn’t begun to compare to the eyes. The yellow eyes locked onto yours. Intense from across all the distance between you. Knowing, guarded, and hungry for blood. He didn’t even need to look at you. Maul could feel the fear rolling off of you in crushing waves. He could feel every emotion - so much clearer than the usual poor soul who found themselves at the foot of this throne. There wasn’t any part of you shielded. It was strange. Intriguing.

For you, he opted for silence, letting you simmer with your own thoughts on the gruesome fates that could quickly be thrust upon you. But as the silence dragged on, you adjusted your stance wider. You squared your shoulders as much as they could with the binders locking your hands together in front of you. You tilted you chin up so that you could meet his glare dead-on - looking down your nose at him. Like a curse, you said your name with a steady confidence. Like it mattered, demanding respect.

Maul’s teeth bared in bitter amusement, and glanced to his left to share a look with Savage. His brother always knew what he was thinking, and his own yellow lips were pulled into a knowing smirk. Lazily, Maul fixed his attention back on you, and in a moment of benevolence, decided to let you in on what exactly was so funny.

“You stand like the Jedi do before they die.”

“The Jedi die with their hands bound?” Your voice felt detached from your body. That bold tone couldn’t have come from you - you were buzzing with the electricity of adrenaline, heart thrumming like a bird.

“No.”

“Fix the picture then, if it amuses you that much.” You offered your bound wrists in his direction.

His brow raised in surprise. He’d killed plenty of smarter mouths for such a comment, but there was something about it. There was a certain intimacy to being privy to you open emotions. He watched as you wrestled your fear under control and condensed it to a point. Perfectly contained. An entertaining insolence.

“Hmm.” He considered his answer, but the slave driver had taken his pause as an invitation to storm up and seize you by the neck. With considerable effort, he heaved you around to face him, dragging you backwards by the hair so that he could lean over you. You, tilted back with a bent spine.

“What did I tell you? You act your place.” He hissed in your face. From this angle, you could make out all the different shades of yellow in his teeth. Your stomach lurched at the hot feel of his breath, and the spray of spit that left his mouth with his words. “Disrespectful little bitch. Let me kill her, my lord.”

If experiencing your fear was interesting, feeling the disgust and hatred was exhilarating for Maul. He shared your sentiment. He never liked this man. The slicked back hair, the ostentatious silk draping his jagged form, and the weasly smile that Maul had to endure far too often. They reeked of his lack of class.

“You’re the one-“ You chocked as he engaged the electro-cuffs. Your body seized into the familiar convulsions and you slumped to the ground, straining every muscle in a futile attempt to fight off the burning seeping into your bones.

“I’m inclined to oblige you.” Maul’s voice vaguely registered above the ringing in your ears. All you could think of was the soothing cool of the tile against your cheek. Little did you know, Maul’s eyes were on you.

“Thankyou my Lord, I’ll gut her outside where the mess won’t be-“

“Oh not you.”

Your vision was still dark as you dragged yourself to your feet, swaying slightly but doggedly staying upright. Something guided your focus to to Maul, who was… smug. A dangerous expression for him.

“You interrupted me, slaver.”

“Apologies, I-“

The slave driver stepped in front of you to grovel for Maul, flattery and bribery falling from his tongue. But you were deaf to it. Mauls eyes had you frozen. From in the shadows of the slavers sweeping fabrics, you knew his intentions were on you, and yours on him. The babbling faded to the background as the two of you stared.

Your vision was tunnelled in on him, so much so that even from across the vast hall, a minute flick of his wrist made you jump in fright. The tiny movement felt so powerful for some reason, why? Your question was answered when you felt the shackles around you wrists shift. Like a cat, you fell into a deep crouch to catch them before they could hit the floor with a telling clatter.

Like two old friends having a whole conversation with the twitches of a few muscles, you flicked yours eyes to the man orating in front of you, then back to Maul. You cocked your head with a raised eyebrow.

Maul nodded upwards, adjusting in his chair as if settling back for a show.

You weren’t about to lose this opportunity.

Shackles in hand, you stalked up to the slaver, his back to you. After all this time wondering how you were going to kill him, this scenario hadn’t made it into your plans. An open stun-cuff lay in your palm, and a snide comment about his skinny neck popped into your head. But at the forefront of your mind - the way he’d treated you over the span of your forced servitude. Fuck him.

Just as he’d so often done to you, you laced your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and yanked off balance. An indignant yell left the man, who squirmed at the minimal pain of having his hair pulled. You tilted him back, his head rested firmly against your chest, and slammed the open cuff around his throat. The sharp curve wasn’t meant to accomodate a neck, so when you clasped the other half of the cuff shut, his voice caught mid-scream. The inhuman gurgles and gasps that followed were damn deafening, they made your stomach lurch in discomfort. As he spasmed desperately and the wet chokes only continued, you calmly threw him to the ground and began rummaging in his robes.

Having seen him reach into that damn pocket too many times, you knew where to find the control device. The shape ingrained in your mind from hours of that fucking thing being used on you. As soon as your fingers grazed the outline of the metal, you squeezed the button, and the familiar sizzle of electricity and the stink of burning skin quickly replaces the choking as the stun cuffs crackled to life around his neck.

Finally, quiet.

Not missing a beat, you plucked his staff from his twitching hands and got to your feet. The two zabrak hadn’t moved to stop you, and were again sharing that look you’d caught earlier. The metal in your hand felt too smooth, too flimsy. Trust a slaver to carry something just for show.

“What exactly… are you planning on doing with that?” Maul questioned lowly. You don’t know what gave you the impulse to walk closer - you just knew you had an urge to see the two of them up close.

“I’m not sure.” You replied in all honestly. “What exactly you are planning on doing with me?”

“I’m not sure.” Maul shot back as you came to a halt at the foot of his throne - only a few steps away. Up close, his features offered a more intimate intimidation than before. Now, you were not only subjected to his intense scrutiny, but every little judgement he made of your character with the twitch of a facial muscle. “I should have you strung up and left for the rats after all the trouble you’ve caused me.”

��Go on then.” Your already anxiety-knotted stomach tightened even more as you struggled to keep your voice steady, projecting from your belly. Who would have thought the voice you used to call orders across the shitty cantina back home would make its way into a situation like this? “I’d think you’re going soft if you don’t. I cost you more credits than I’ll see in my lifetime. Hundreds of slaves. You’ll never get those mines operating again.”

“Are you trying to goad me, little anarchist?”

“I’m just telling the simple truth.”

“Oh there’s nothing simple about it.” His tone was so soft. Your heart quickened again at the thought of all the violent acts he’d committed while never raising from that insidious pitch. He continued, tilting his head, his horns cutting a dramatic angle against the ornate patterns of his throne. “You’re trying to get yourself run through where you stand.”

“Darksaber’s more glamorous than a whip.”

Maul rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. There was nothing dishonest about you. You said exactly how you felt, with no illusions about who you were and no attempt at deceit. Often, the people before him were not only fearful, but so conflicted and tortured. They tried to deny the fear, they cursed themselves for their inadequacies that got them here. You let your terror crash into you and wash away as it pleased. Even within himself and his brother, there was those raging conflicts of identity, purpose and uncertainty. Yet you? Nothing.

Maul reached across himself and before you could even register it, you were staring down the glowing Mandalorian blade. Would a saber strike feel hot? A faint hum filled the air as he swayed it back and forth, tauntingly. He felt a smile overtaking him. Out of all the things that had occurred on this eventful evening, that was the thing that shut you up?

“You want it.” He exclaimed, very suddenly. He identified the faint thrilled longing in you before you did. He was right. For the briefest of moments, your ambitious mind wandered to the potential that the sabre offered. “Do you know how you earn it?”

“By killing you.”

“No, heavens, you bloodthirsty little thing. You just have to defeat me.”

Despite the situation, despite the low opinion of him he’d sensed from you the second you laid eyes on him, and despite the undoubtedly dead body behind you - a spark of good humour bubbled in your chest. He couldn’t believe it. Not a shred of hatred.

“You’re welcome to challenge me for it.” He pressed, and a sudden jolt of excitement ran through you. After all the months chained up underground in the mines, the thought of anything adventurous was welcome, even if your death was an almost guaranteed consequence.

“I’m not wasting my time with you.” You grinned at the ridiculousness of your statement, not meaning a word and not trying hide that fact in the slightest. You gestured flippantly in Savage’s direction. “I’ll take the big one.”

A dangerous chuckle rumbled from deep within Maul’s chest, the blade disengaging as he shifted, looking to Savage to share his amusement. You could’t believe how easily the murderous intent had dissipated.

“Well you owe me much more than time, my dear. I’ll have to do. Ready yourself.”

Your chest seized.

“What?”

“Ready yourself.”

Barely giving you a second, he stood up smoothly and ignited a red lightsaber blade in one fluid motion.

On the balls of your feet, you slunk backwards, toeing past the limp pile of silk over your former masters’s form. Barely able to take your eyes off of his approach, you shot a glance to the pole of metal in your hand.

“Go easy on me if this thing isn’t beskar.” You blurted out, and with a nerve-driven grin, clanged the staff against the tile floor.

It resounded with a painfully synthetic and hollow clang.

You knew giving ground was a sure-fire way to lose the upper hand so ignoring your instinct to run, you planted yourself in a defensive stance. Feet set diagonally and staff grasped in the middle, parallel to the ground.

He paused, eyes flashing with anger for a moment.

“Just when I was beginning to like you.”

If you hadn’t been so charged with panic, you would have blanked at the flash of red flying towards you from your peripherals. He was too fast. Rotating your wrist to raise the staff and ducking away out of instinct you managed to block it, sending it quickly away with a clash. You could feel warmth from his sabre creeping though the metal to your fingers just from that.

“Bad form.” Maul quickly withdrew and began circling you casually. The heavy thuds of your heart felt good against your sternum. Really good. You hadn’t felt anything close to exhilaration in almost a year. “If I’d been trying, your head would be on the floor.”

Your mind flicked back to your academy days, the only free days you’d had, really, to the boys who would take any chance to condescend to you. Maul was one of them. Annoying little-

“Guard your thoughts, dear. They’re awfully loud.”

“Just get on with it.”

Before the words had left your mouth, the blade came again from above. This time, your mind did blank. You weakly swiped your staff upwards in an awkward rotation to meet his.

The force of his blow cleaved the cheap metal straight to the ground in two pieces., and the saber came to hover at your throat. There was no heat, surprisingly, only the tell-tale humming of impending death.

You frowned.

Your wrist had warmth trickling across it.

A gasp ripped from you throat when you saw your hand. The plump flesh where your thumb became your palm - it wasn’t plump anymore. The saber had shaved across it, leaving half a palm of raw flesh there.

You shot a look at Maul. The way he was patiently observing, you knew you weren’t going to die right this second. But what did you have? What did you have?? Nothing. The most dangerous thing on your person was the underwire of your bra. If you had a few minutes to rip the seams open and pry the fucking thing free, you could leave him with some minor scratches as your final mark on the world.

“Again?” You offered with a hopeful smile that became more of a grimace when you clenched your hand shut to slow the bleeding. After spending so long considering it as an equally shitty alternative to being a slave, death didn’t seem like a distant terrifying thing anymore. Even in the face of it, you were still acutely aware of the effect you had on people. It worked even on him - he liked you.

What you weren’t aware of, was how good you looked with the red kyber light illuminating your face and collarbones. The metallic taste of your blood in the air was beyond sweet. Cursing himself, Maul knew he wasn’t going to finish you, and it irked him even more that you’d figured it out before he had.

“Next time, I’ll run you through.” He warned, removing the blade from under your chin.

“I said again.” You tilted your chin up defiantly, face set in a dogged determination.

His eyes burned into you, uncharacteristically still for the moment. They ran down you, lingering on every hint of a curve and every piece of bared skin that wasn't covered with dirt and grease. The eyes flicked behind you, to his brother now lounging on the throne.

"Leave us, Savage. Cancel our audiences for the next hour. Lock the door.”

The smirk the two of them shared. You knew that look. The look of the slave driver when he’d passed you over to a client for his first and final attempt at making a private entertainer out of you. You’d read Maul wrong, you thought him to be above that sort of disgusting thing. You’d read him so wrong. You really thought for a moment that this here was something different, two minds clashing just for the love of it. But, as you should’ve expected, he was just like the rest of them. He just hid it better.

“I can feel your hatred.” Maul taunted as Savage made his way past the two of you without a word. “Now where did that come from?”

Your mind raced again, scanning the room for weapons, escapes, ideas. The slaver. His little vibroblade. His gaudy gold belt with embedded jewels. The layers upon layers of delicate silk.

You snatched up a single piece of the staff with your good hand. Placing quick and deliberate steps away from him, you quickly found yourself crouched by the body, eyes never leaving Maul as you struggled to rip a long shred of silk off the robe. Once torn, you circled it frantically around your hand as a bandage, hissing at the friction as it dragged across the raw flesh of your palm.

He just watched. He stood there and watched, eyes alight like a nexu ready to pounce. As you yanked the gold belt free and wound it around the base of your now short-staff, he didn’t move a muscle. You quickly freed the ornate knife that had been brandished in your direction so many times from the corpse’s belt.

“You’re not putting your filthy fucking hands on me. Darth, Lord, King, Whatever the fuck. I don’t care who you are or what magical shit you can do.” You stood there fiercely, knife and staff in hand, chains draped over your fingers in a makeshift hilt, and blood dripping from the silk to trail down the metal. “I can promise you - touching me will not end well for you.”

“Sweetness.” He took you in. If the particularly stubborn tilt to your chin hadn’t made sense before - it was perfect on you now. At the idea of him forcing himself onto you, you’d transformed into a woman wielding all the strength and hatred of a Nightsister. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

The anger boiled and your lips drew into a thin, disbelieving smile. God, your thoughts were delicious. Without the sour aftertaste of self pity and feelings of inadequacy, your anger was pure, on principal. You were so composed, so smart, eyes regarding him with perception that equaled that of a force user.

But your security in yourself had one downside, he realised.

Self hatred, defeat, all the depressive emotions that riddled people. The denial and the fantasy that they used to keep going meant that their thoughts were hazed and guarded even from themselves. But you? Every little observation and emotion rang clearly in a distinguishable melody. Your respect for him at the start that you had allowed to grow into an easy fondness at his good humour. But now, the potent disdain seeping from you had charged your body with fight to your very bones. The ancestral magic that lingered around himself and Savage was crackling with it.

From start to finish however, your funny little song had a heavy baseline of lust thrumming in the background. Lust for power, for freedom, and for him. Even now it played. He knew you were only fighting him on principal, acting off what you had seen and observed. The hatred wasn’t for him. It was for the past that couldn’t be changed, the present where atrocities were still being committed as you stood there - and for the hopeful future that you intended to fix your damn self. For him, in the absence of amity, the dark side was fuelling your lust along with your anger.

He couldn’t ignore the flames licking towards him any longer.

“What idiot left a woman like you to rot in the mines?” He breathed, disengaging the blade of his sabre and pausing. He didn’t often allow himself to feel exposed.

“The dead one at your feet.” At the slightest hint of movement from him, you crouched, ready to move.

“You’re never going back there, as long as I rule.”

“I know. I blew that thing to hell.”

“You’re not going anywhere else like it.

“I’d rather end up dead in a mine than alive in your silk sheets.”

“Smart mouth.” Maul hummed, his voice layered with a strange affection. He raised his empty hands calmingly. “I’ve had my fun. I don’t want to end up hurting you.”

You remained silent. That voice. If you weren’t bleeding you’d think it was a bedroom voice. You wouldn’t have minded tha-

“Universe.” he continued, paused to muffle a chuckle. “Your thoughts are deafening. I know some things that I think you’d want to remain private.”

“Which things?” Your heart thumped.

“I’d feel rather unsavoury repeating them.”

“Unsavo-“ you blanched, slack-jawing with shock that knocked the thought of the fight right out of you. Holy fucking shit- no-

“Quite the gutter mouth, aren’t you?”

“Shut up. Shut up.” You hissed, gripping the knife and bar in your hand so tightly that they trembled like leaves in the wind. “That doesn’t mean shit. I’ll still kill you for touching me-“

“I don’t doubt it.” He purred, taking a few slow steps closer.

“Stop.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Get away from me!”

“Tell me with your mind. I’m in your head, sweetness. Will me to stop. Picture it. Give me the slightest hint that you want me to.”

You couldn’t.

The logical voice in your head, shaped my society and your experiences was telling you not to give him the satisfaction, that you were about to be used. But your gut? It had a sense of its own, as always. It told you to… trust him?

Different body parts were having very fucking insistent opinions as well.

“Zabrak.” You said, changing the subject the best you could. “Dathomirian?”

“Yes.”

“Your culture holds partnership as sacred.”

“Yes.”

“Do you?”

“Completely.” He was right before you now, within reach if you felt the urge to whack him over the head.

“Yet you allow pieces of filth like him.” You nodded to the slave driver’s corpse. “To do what he does. He tried to make a private entertainer out of me.”

“And now he’s dead, you’ll notice.”

“Because I did it myself. There’s others.”

“I gave them a chance to correct their behaviour. Most of them are fleeing or dead by now.”

“I can not think of a single reason why I would believe a word you’re saying.”

“Let me show you.” He extended a graceful hand to you, eyes burning into yours much more fiercely at that close range. “I’ll show you my thoughts, just as you are so beautifully sharing your own.”

“I don’t doubt a Sith could lie through even his thoughts.”

“Just see.” The hand flexed, waiting patiently.

“I’ll stab you.”

“Here.” You froze at a gentle touch to your wrist. Unwavering, he guided the ornate knife to rest at the junction of his neck and shoulder. The gold of the dagger, and the gold of his eyes shone brightly together. He tilted his head to the side, pulling his skin taunt and flexing the tendons beneath the metal “I believe you.”

“Fuck.” You watched his neck as he spoke, imagining the pulsing artery right beneath his red skin. “Does this move usually work on the girls?”

“That’s up to you.”

“Ugh.” You looked away in disgust. You didn’t know why you were so afraid of your hand slipping and nicking that neck.

“May I?” His hand left yours and reached slowly towards your face, two fingers extended.

“Get on with it.”

The two fingers hovered for another moment, then massaged gently into your temple. His chest rose as he took a deep breath, his eyes closing in concentration, and then your vision blacked out as he opened his mind to you.

Your thoughts were usually noisy, but the bustle of two beings in your head, two sets of emotions almost knocked you out as you struggled to decipher what you were feeling.

“Just relax.” He murmured. “I’ll show you.”

Lust. A specific kind of lust that your culture hadn’t acknowledged enough to warrant crafting a word for. You saw yourself from his eyes - from behind his eyes, where the emotions and opinions circulated tumultuously. The craving for you. He hadn’t been able to ignore your spirit. Your bright spirit that didn’t allow anyone’s grimy hands to dull it. You were the good the Jedi wished they were. Firm in your beliefs to the point that you would risk death to speak your truth. Fiery. You were a fucking fire from the moment you walked into his throne room. You flared with passion when wronged, but even as you stood there peacefully, the embers crackled, waiting for a breeze to fuel them into licking flames. You were so… alive.

There was a reverence to how he regarded you, the way you would expect him to feel for a goddess. With gentleness and fascination you would afford a delicate ornament, yet awe and respect so great that he allowed himself to imagine you at his side, accomplishing some great feat together. Shit, you thought vaguely, Zabraks move fast. Fucking hyperspeed.

That was just your character - things the force had provided him the perception to see. He hadn’t let himself focus on your body. You could feel the tension of him straining to keep himself focused, never following down trails of thought that would take him down the gutter.

“Show me the rest.” Your grip remained tight on the knife.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I see I overestimated the Sith’s abilities to lie.” You smiled, feeling the flood of thoughts hammer even harder to get out as your free hand came to rest over the one at your temple. With wicked laugh bubbling in your chest along with the nervous tension, you drew closer.

He sucked in a ragged breath, the chorus of restrained thoughts growing louder.

“Sweetness. I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”

“Are you getting flustered, My Lord?” Your mind burst with amusement. Despite his best efforts, you’d been able to glean fragments of what he was holding back. Your voice saying his title had been one of the escapee thoughts and you couldn’t lie - you were enjoying having a beast like him wrapped around your finger. You pushed it further

“I am not- Oh. Ohhh that’s fucking delicious.” He hummed proudly and you felt the swell of his ego In your own body..

Tentatively, you had felt some need to reciprocate, regardless of him being able to feel you this whole time. You sent him your thoughts of his thunderous presence, the ability to command a room without raising a voice. The way he held himself so dignified, and how he let words fall from his tongue so beautifully controlled. Discipline, passion and his pure honesty were what had made you allow yourself to be drawn to him. You didn’t have the force, but you knew. You always knew. People. You could read them like a damned billboard.

You knew your own mind too, and although you never bothered, you could play his game and suppress your own thoughts. You teased him, letting yourself indulge in thoughts of pleasurable scenarios before focusing back in on the here and now. Him touching you, caressing you- but as fast as the image of you in an ornate bed came, the grounding presence of the marble beneath your feet sent it away.

Now, his mind was so full that single ideas were barely distinguishable, everything flurrying and melding together into static.

“Oh you’re a dangerous little thing.” He growled, hand latching onto your wrist and dragging you flush against him. You didn’t realise you dropped the knife, barely registered the clatter. His touch was gone from your temple, but the bond remained. You continued to taunt. Brief snapshots of the potential future. Spread out on the throne, on the ground, against that pillar over there. Gone as fast as they came. “You- By the Divine-.”

With a rough snarl of breath, he seized you by the waist and the back of your neck, and held you even closer.

“You want to see the rest, you’ll get the fucking rest.”

He held you there a moment, a hairs distance between your faces. His yellow eyes were on fire. You felt his nails at the small of your back, and his hot breath on your cheek.

Then, his lips were on yours, slow, but damn hungry. Your lips worked against each other with a strange fervour. His hold on you felt safe, familiar. But that mouth, the sheer heat of it, made your head spin. With every swipe of his tongue, your stomach clenched tighter.

You’d never felt this - weak in the knees from just a kiss. You were holding your own well enough, returning his passion despite gasping for breath. But when he sank a sharp tooth ever so gently into your bottom lip, dragging it into his mouth with a feral groan, you knew you were gone. You’d been desperately withholding the noises that had been straining to be let out, but as he broke the silence, you let go. As he broke the kiss, panting harshly, and began working his way to your jaw, down your neck, sucking and kissing loudly, you couldn’t hold back a shaky moan. Everything echoed in that damn hall.

The hands snuck down and pulled you into him by your ass. With your bottom half held close to him and your top half tilted back by the weight of him at your neck, you clung to him to keep from falling over with your good hand. He was so solid, unbothered by supporting your entire body weight. The hot mouth at your collarbones now completely unfaltering. His hands at your ass were delicious, you felt to pressure of it between your legs, stretching that desperate skin ever so slightly, giving you the first hints of pleasure.

You’d been in this position before, but never had it weakened your knees to fucking jelly. You knew it was because it was him, Maul. So damn ruthless and powerful. He could snap your neck with the flick of a finger. He could read your damn mind. He was the fucking ruler of Mandalore, and you knew you’d secured a foothold in his chest, shallow and precarious as it may be, it was undeniable. . You wanted to make him moan like you were, shaky and broken from the bare minimum.

“Oh. Oh.” He snickered into your neck.

“What.” You hissed out.

He chuckled again, a deep thing that reverberated in his chest. The hands that had remained firmly grasping your ass snuck lower, kneading at the flesh of your thighs. His fingers worked dangerously between your legs, so close to where you needed them.

“What?” You tried to sound demanding, but the word sounded too breathy, too high.

“You’re a power hungry little thing.” He hummed, trailing his tongue up your neck on his way to stare you dead in the eye. “You’d just love to be fucked on that throne over there, wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know.” You smiled in anticipation of your own snark. “I can think of a few places I’d rather sit.”

You knew he saw where your thoughts went - to those yellow eyes looking up from between your thighs as you rode his face.

“No. There’s nowhere you’d rather be then up there.” He grinned as your ego swelled. You couldn’t enjoy the compliment for long as suddenly, his touch was gone from you and the room was flying past your field of vision. You let out a small shriek as you were flung across the room with the force. He slowed you before you landed on the throne, but your head spun with vertigo.

Before you could collect yourself, he was there, bracing a hand on each arm of the throne as he caught your lips in a kiss. Indignant from being thrown you shimmied to the edge of the smoothstone seat. Maul had to bend at the middle to keep kissing you and with an evil little grin, you reached up and held a horn in your each hand hand, pulling him even closer and further off balance. You laughed against his lips as, with a grunt, he dropped a hand to your thigh to keep from falling. You enjoyed this little act of power, and slid your tongue into his mouth. He gave you a broken groan.

“You’d be a bitch of a queen.” He craned his neck to rasp the words into your ear.

You let go of his horns, but hissed in pain as the worn, sharp edges of one slid against your open wound. Having forgotten the horrible thing was even there with the adrenaline of it all, the sharp sting sent your head back to smack against the throne. You growled behind clenched teeth as you rode it out.

“Fuck.” Unease shivered down you spine as you clutched your wrist with the other hand, squeezing viciously as if to somehow relieve it.

“Oh darling.” Maul’s eyes were on the wound, his voice a hoarse whisper as he dropped to his knees between your legs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. Give it to me.”

Your breath hiccuped in your throat as you cradled it close to you. “Fuck.”

“Give it.”

“Piss off.” You smacked his outstretched hand, hard. The sound reverberated around the massive hall. He didn’t flinch. He blinked, eyes popping open in offence. His voice grew harder.

“Give me your hand.”

“Oh fuck you,” You hissed, your hand locked into a wide fist around your wrist still. “You creepy fucking dathomirian cat. Bite me. Go chase a ball of twine. Go fucking lick your ass-“

“You’re as temperamental as a rancor.” He sighed, and pulled your hand to him. He didn’t even strain. With the same effort one would draw curtains, he dragged your rigid body close to him.

Just like that, your excitement turned back into fight, and your temper flared. Your lip curled and you twisted to shove a knee into his side. It impacted with a thud, and his breath left his body in a heavy oof.

But again he didn’t shift, barely even flinched, so you drew the knee to the side to do it again.

His hand slapped into your thigh, kneading the flesh in irritation. His eyes never left yours, but they grew dark with irritation.

“Sorry.” You blurted out. Your big mouth had gotten you into near-death situations plenty of times, but this was the first time that it had gotten you well on the way to being viciously railed. “Sorry. It just… Fuck that hurt.”

“That hurt.” He squeezed your offending leg for emphasis.

“No it didn’t.”

“No it didn’t.” He agreed. “I thought if you felt guilty, you’d hold the fuck still.”

“What are you going to do? Kiss it better? Lick it like a fucking cat?” The pain still biting into your hand soured your temper, and the intimacy you’d shared over the past few minutes emboldened your tongue. But what you’d meant to be a demeaning comment, sent his eyes to your hand and made his jaw flex with tension.

“Holy shit. You’d love that wouldn’t you?” You whispered, absolutely floored at the realisation. “Fucking Zabraks. Carnivourous little-“

“Stop it.” Maul said abruptly, his voice stony and solemn. He took your hand from you, slowly. It looked gentle to your eye, but his grip was iron, his muscle barely flexed as he forced your hand closer to him. “Trust me.”

A nervous laugh broke from you. Trust him. What a joke. You trusted him to fuck you, but now you could feel the tautness of the skin along your wrist where the blood had begun to dry. The sting of the open wound along the flesh of your palm, so large that it hadn’t even begun to scab over. You didn’t trust him with this.

He unwound the bloodied silk from your hand and you hissed as it stuck, sending pain jolting all the way up to your elbow. He shot a look to your expression. You were struggling to stay strong, letting your distress translate to anger. Your brows were drawn together and your lip curled as you held back any sound. You sent your glare his way, cursing that you let those yellow eyes draw you in. Maul’s lips curved at the corners in something that was dangerously close to affection.

“So brave.” He murmured. He gently closed his own hand over your own. Your poor severed nerve endings felt every callous on his red hand and you smacked your heel against the floor at the feeling.

“Mmm.” Was all you replied, voice growling in the back of you throat.

“Open your mind up.”

“What the fu-“

“Open your mind up. Like before.”

“Are you going to mind control me?”

He ignored you, closed his eyes and bowed his head, both hands wrapped around your own.

“I don’t know anything about the force, but I can guarantee you’ll have a hard time fucking with my head.”

“Shhh.”

“I’ll stab you.”

“Stab me quietly, then.” He murmured, his own brow furrowing with�� concentration?

You watched in silence as he sat there for the stretch of several minutes, the only sound his deep, slow breathing. You took the opportunity to study his face, with the heat from those damed eyes finally turned away from you. When he was peaceful, he was actually quite pretty, you thought. Fine features, like that of a wealthy coruscanti, yet branded with those red and black colours that screamed danger, like a particularly venomous snake.

A calm washed over you. Absolutely foreign, it was Maul’s influence, you knew instantly. You never felt calm, you could be content, relaxed and vaguely peaceful, but you’d never known calm. There was always a train of thought playing at the back of your mind, usually painfully analytical. His calm felt stifling to you, a suppression of who you were as a person, but it was so strong that you couldn’t even begin to summon panic about it.

Then, your palm tingled, something between a tickle and an itch. It was overwhelming, but his strong grip on your hand and mind kept you from shying away. The calm wavered, and then it was gone, and your head was your own again.

“Take a look.” He sat back on his heels and watched as your lifted your hand to your face, eyes wide with disbelief.

The crusted blood remained, but within its perimeter, your skin was healed. Slightly pink and baby smooth, not a trace of damage.

“Why?” You asked. Why would this fucking crime lord be benevolent? He was a Sith, they were fuelled by hatred, not whatever this was.

“I’m not sure.” He said simply.

“Thank you.” The words didn’t capture the gratitude to its fullest extend. After the years of hard labour you went through, that gesture of kindness hit you like a blaster shot. “Thank you.” You repeated dumbly, unable to conjure anything else to express yourself.

“It’s my pleasure, sweetness. Are you… Are you alright?”

You frowned at the undertone. It was nervous, and you didn’t quite understand his timidness. Then it hit you, and you burst into a quick laugh. “You mean…” You pursed your lips to hold the smile back and raised your eyebrows challengingly. “Am I alright to fuck you?”

You burst into another round of cackles as the sheepish grin spread across his face, so uncharacteristically boyish.

“Lord Maul. Darth Maul.” You crooned shamelessly. “On his knees and asking so politely to fuck me. No one would ever believe this.”

“Don’t antagonise m-“

“Come here.”

He froze, midway through his grumble, then, pulled himself up by the arms of his throne and kissed you again.

It was different now. Grateful, reverent. He held your jaw as his lips brushed yours. It went on achingly long, both of you lost in it. Suddenly, he must’ve realised that he was enjoying this simple act of affection far too much, because out of nowhere, he bit into your lip hard. With a gasp, you pulled away in fright, eyes wide. He looked shocked himself, as if he’d done it on a panicked impulse to cut the tender moment short. You giggled openmouthed against his cheek, something compelling you to press a gentle kiss there. He leaned into it, letting out a vaguely humored sigh of his own.

But your laughter quickly came to a halt as he dropped to his knees between your legs. His brow raised mockingly at the astounded look on your face.

“Get rid of these. Now.” He tapped an impatient hand on your thigh and stared at your clothed legs pointedly. “Come on, this is what you wanted. You wanted me to show you the rest. This is the rest.”

You couldn’t conjure a single smart thought, so you obliged, raising you hips off the throne so you could shimmy out of your pants and underwear. The second the pants hung loose over your thighs, he lunged forward and yanked them down your legs, eyes never leaving your centre. He tossed the clothing thoughtlessly over his shoulder and leaned in to lift you closer to him by your ass.

“Oh sweetness.” He groaned, his chest heaved with a heavy, slow, breath. You could feel the bite of the cold air between your slicked legs, you knew how wet you were. He pressed a hand to the inside of each of your thighs, spreading you wider only inches from his face. “Oh seven hells, that’s exactly what you are - fucking sweet.”

The feeling of his warm breath against your inner thighs drove you crazy, but it didn’t even begin to compare to how the sight of him on your knees for you while you sat on his throne made you dizzy. He was right. After living the life you’d lived at the mercy of others, you were power hungry. You were starving for it. You don’t know what possessed you to say:

“Show me then.” Your voice was low. Your next words came out with a hint of mockery; of challenge. “Put your pretty mouth to work, my Lord.”

Maul’s brow shot up in surprise, and a huff of laughter escaped him. Yet you saw how those eyes darkened. He paused for a moment, eyes looking into yours, obviously trying to conjure some smart remark, to show you your place. To your delight, he couldn’t maintain the eye contact, neck curving to glean another look at your cunt. He growled in frustration from the very back of his throat and leaned in to lick a long line across your slit.

You shivered, hands slapping to the thick arms of the throne to brace yourself. But your pleasure was short-lived. He sat back on his haunches stubbornly and glared as your hooded eyes flicked open in surprise. He let the silence stew, before he tilted his head menacingly.

“I’m going to turn that smart fucking mouth dumb.”

You smiled in amusement, but your lips quickly fell open as he closed his mouth over your clit and lapped at it with a flat tongue. You moaned. Loud. He fucked the same way that he ruled; ruthlessly.

“Shirt. Off.” He said briefly, before diving back in. A hand slapped the side of your thigh forcefully to emphasise his point. You quickly pulled your shirt over your head, scared that he might stop if you didn’t.

He hummed his approval, the hand on your thigh gripping it tighter as the other came out to slip under your breast band. He massaged your breast roughly as he slipped his tongue inside of you, letting out a muffled groan. He wasn’t even trying to drive you over the edge yet-

Maul just loved the taste.

He lapped at the inside of you hungrily, eyes closing with enjoyment as he probed and swirled deeper. And shit, you heard his thick swallow, quickly followed by another. You let out a hum of a moan, relaxing completely under his touch. At the sound, his intensity increased, nails digging into the flesh of your thigh and the hand your breast adjusting to roll your nipple between his thumb and his forefinger.

“Fuck.” You breathed, and at hearing you react, he ran his tongue from you entrance to your clit. “Fuck.” You repeated, in an embarrassingly high pitch.

“Are you going dumb on me, sweetness?” His voice came from closer.

You didn’t even realise he’d shifted. You’d just began to shape your mouth around a reply when you felt two of his fingers slide into you. A moan ripped out of you when his mouth closed around your breast, a hand on your back to keep you in his mouth.

“Yes, I think you are.” He said, swiping a thumb over your clit as the fingers of the same hand scissored you open, curling and stroking in turns. “Didn’t even need a cock. You’re dumb from just a few fingers.”

Again, with a fucking evil chuckle, he escalated things before you could reply. He quickly ducked to catch your clit in his mouth again, laving a hot tongue over the whole area. He sucked, mouthed, and started thrusting those damn fingers into you, hard, bouncing you back against the throne with every plunge.

“Mmm. Maul.” You groaned.

“So smart.” He mocked, replacing his mouth with his thumb while he spoke. “You figured out my name.”

“Shut up.”

He chuckled again, ducking back down to work you with his mouth. The muscles in your abdomen tighten on their own, chasing the growing feeling of pleasure.

“Look at you on my throne.” He grinned, lips shiny with slick. “Spread out as if its yours.”

You tried to say something, but he curled his long fingers inside you and all that came out was a moan. At that, he pressed a sloppy kiss to your clit, his suck making an obscene sound as he drew back yet again. His fingers kept moving, lazily, tauntingly, giving you just enough pleasure to keep you squirming, but not enough to drive you over the edge.

“Fucking queen. Fucking slut. So greedy. You want a bigger throne and you want your cunt stuffed with me, you wanted it the second you walked in here.”

“Maul.” Your complaint came out as a plead.

“What? Smart mouth?”

“Make me-“ Your voice cracked as he kissed your clit again, tongue sliding down as his lips tortured you roughly. He was fucking evil. He was playing with you, giving you direct, overstimulating pleasure, and taking it away as soon as the pressure began to build. It wasn’t even edging - he wasn’t letting you get close - just fucking torture. Wanting more, or it all being too much,

“What was that?”

“Maul. Please.”

“Dumb mouth.” He chuckled wickedly, “Fucking dumb.”

“If you won’t make me cum, I’ll do it my damn self.” You hissed, reaching for your throbbing clit.

But he caught your wrist, eyes never leaving yours, fingers still working you lazily. You thought that he was strong before, but now his grip was iron. It hurt. You realised he’d handled you with care before, even when he’d thrown you, it didn’t hurt this much.

You wanted it to hurt more.

You struggled against him harder, loving the electricity of his nails digging into your flesh. His muscles barely flexed, and your hand barely moved despite your efforts. Those damned yellow eyes saw straight through you, bright and smug. He cocked his head, fingers stilling inside you.

“You like this.” He said simply, eyes narrowed as he gauged your reaction.

“Hmm?” You tried to sound coy, but it didn’t come out right. It sounded… dumb and guilty.

He licked his lips, and then his nails bit into your wrist hard enough to sting.

You inhaled sharply, the breath stuttering and catching to produce an undeniably sexual sound. The feeling went straight to between your legs and your knees tried to jolt together. A shaky breath of his own answered yours. Both of you stared at the other, you unable to deny the effect the pain had on you - and him unable to believe it as you pulsed and clenched around his fingers.

“You like it.” He hissed, grip unwavering. The nails plunged deeper. The pain began to throb and burn. You clenched around him again.

“I like it.” You breathed, head dropping back onto the throne, all resistance lost.

“Fuck. Fuck.” Maul growled, something deep and carnal from the very bottom of his chest. He lunged down so suddenly that you jumped. You could only groan as he nipped at the flesh of the inside of your thighs. His hand let go of your wrist and you could feel the shape of the crescent indentations he’d left. The hand slid up, feeling its way along your shoulder until it came to brush the side of your neck. Your breath caught and you lifted your head to look at him.

Those intense yellow eyes were gauging your reaction as his thumb spread along your throat, his hand now encircling your neck.

“You like this too?”

Gods you loved it. You didn’t realise you would. If it was anyone else, you would’ve smacked them for trying. With Maul, it wasn’t an insecure lover diminishing you to uplift themselves. It was instinctive with him. He had regarded each of your desperate moans with reverence, staying composed as if he expected this of himself; as if he held you writhing and begging without him even breaking a sweat as the minimum standard for his performance.

But now? A dangerous mood was unfurling between the two of you. It was creeping up quietly, slowly. Both of you spoke in hushed whispers as it drew closer.

“Mhmm.” You answered softly. You tilted your chin up to bare your throat to him. His grip tightened ever so slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to make your head feel deliciously warm. You groaned, struggling to keep your eyes from fluttering closed in bliss so that you could watch him. His composure was failing. His breath grew heavier and eyes grew ravenous.

“Sweetness.” He breathed. “Oh fuck.” His hand slid up to grip your jaw. His fingers came away from your face for a moment, then he brought them back with a firm slap, not hard, but enough to make a sound. Enough to make your lips part in a gasp of surprise that sounded far too close to a moan. The jolt of the fright was quickly drowned out by the swell of arousal in your stomach. Yet again, you felt yourself flutter around those fucking fingers.

“Gorgeous.”

The fingers dragged down your cheek, two of them resting on your lips. He paused there, waiting, as if he expected something. You stared back, eyes soft with arousal.

You lifted your head and sucked the fingers into your mouth.

Maul gave you a broken groan.

“Of course you like that. Hells above. You’re perfect.”

“Mmm.” You confirmed. You ran your tongue over the rough pads of his fingertips.

“Fuck. Can I bite you, love?”

You stilled from your movements to stare at him with a raised eyebrow. He’d thrown you across the room, choked you, slapped you, and he’s asking if he can bite? After a long pause you hit him with a muffled, condescending, “Uh huh?”

“Watch it.” His fingers bit into the flesh of your thigh as he grabbed you with a growl, leaning closer into your neck and letting his tongue glide up it. “Fucking smart mouth.”

“Seems… fuck… seems obvious. Yes. Please.”

“I mean bite you. Not deep, just enough to draw blood. The taste… It’s like how you’d enjoy fruits and sweets. I know you taste so good, darling. You smell like fucking dessert.”

Hmm.” Your annoying, thoughtful noise morphed into a giggle, and then a breathy moan when he dragged a sharp tooth across your neck. “Make me feel good first.”

“You’re dripping on my floor. I’d say you’re already feeling good.”

“I want to cum.”

“You want to cum? I’ll make you cum then. Demanding little whore.”

He did it so easily. On his knees, he gave you everything at the same time. Those tattooed fingers probed and curled and between each stroke, he pushed his tongue down the whole length of your clit. When his fingers hit your g-spot, he paused, pressed harder and sucked your clit into his mouth. If that devastating syncopated rhythm wasn’t enough, he was in your head too. You could taste yourself through his mouth, see yourself, from his inexplicably reverent eyes. Fuck. Even as your eyes rolled back into your head and mouth hung open with gasps, he thought you were beautiful. You were close already. You’d never had an orgasm that you didn’t have to chase, but this one was building whether you tried or not. It was fucking inevitable. You felt the pleasure in your pussy, stomach, and even flaring down the insides your legs.

It hit before you were ready.

Your hips shoved down onto his hand with a mind of their own, and you slid down in the seat until only your head rested on the back of the throne. You shook. Even your hands trembled with it, and he let you ride his hand through the whole devastating length of it, mouth sealed dutifully to your clit. He kept going long after you were done, tongue lapping until it became too much.

“Fuck. Stop. Stop!” You squirmed away from him, gasping. “Oh o’sik. Stars above.”

He sat back onto his heels, eyes seeming to glow brighter. His hands slid off of you, and he just regarded you, spread out and chest heaving on his throne.

“Satisfied?”

You groaned a weak affirmative, eyes rolling closed.

“Poor thing.” You heard him croon. “Can’t even talk.”

“Yes.” You breathed out. “Fuck yes I’m satisfied.”

“Oh. Suppose you won’t be wanting any more, then?”

You peeked an eye open and found him still sat obediently on his haunches, hunting hound turned lap dog. Head cocked in anticipation of your answer.

“Well… I never said that.”

[agender-wolfie]

I need to be put in a headlock and prone boned until I’m fucked dumb all while being called a “good baby”… pls 🥹

[mandos-mind-trick]

Kinktober Day 12 - Somnophilia

Summary: You promised every part of yourself to him, whenever he wants it. 

Pairing: Maul x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, somnophilia, unprotected sex, oral, biting inappropriate use of the Force, implied discussion of consent beforehand, AU where Maul has his lower half because Nightsister magic, takes place some indistinguishable time after Order 66, no aftercare but it's Maul what do you expect 

A/N: And I'm interrupting our regularly scheduled clone content to bring you some of my OG fav today. I'm rather proud of this one, if I do say so myself. I keep telling myself I'm going to write for Maul more often.

MASTERLIST

He’s near silent as he slips into your room. You’re fast asleep, tucked under the expensive silk sheets, completely ignorant to his presence. It’s rather cute, he thinks, how unaware you are. How soundly you slumber despite him slipping through your room like a wraith. 

You don’t even stir when he climbs onto the bed, settling himself next to you. You’re on your side facing him, the sheet pooled around your waist. You’re bare beneath it, almost as if you had been expecting him. Always ready, always so willing to give yourself to him when he wants it. 

His eyes trail your body, the curves and dips illuminated by the dim light coming through the window. He reaches out, his hand ghosting down your side. You stir, but stay asleep, even as his hand slips under the blanket, smoothing over the curve of your hip. He slides the blanket down, revealing the rest of your body to him. 

He eases you onto your back and you let out a quiet sigh before settling, his hands dragging up your legs. He parts your thighs, staring down at your pussy as it’s revealed to him. His hands slide up your warm thighs, pushing them apart as he lowers himself between your legs. He keeps his hands on your legs as he bends down, inhaling the scent of you. It’s one of his favorites, not that he would ever admit it. 

His tongue darts out, dragging through your folds. You let out a quiet sound in your sleep, your legs pressing against his hands for a moment. He keeps them parted so you don’t cut yourself on his horns, his tongue trailing from your hole to your clit, the muskiness of your scent getting stronger. He circles your clit with his tongue, keeping his eyes glued to your face. 

You let out another quiet sound, shifting again. You’re still asleep, he can feel the hold your subconscious has on you. He can only imagine what your dreams have turned to. He knows you dream of him, he knows you wake up in the morning soaked and needy from your lascivious dreams. He listens sometimes as you touch yourself, lets your lust and pleasure wash over him in the Force as you cum with his name on your tongue. You’re entirely unaware of it all, not that you would offer much complaint. 

You did promise yourself to him. 

Every part of yourself. 

He wraps his lips around your clit, suckling at it. You’re wet now, your slick folds pressing against his chin as he works your clit with his mouth. Your breathing has picked up, quiet sounds leaving your lips, yet still you slumber on. He pulls  himself from your clit as you shift, resettling on the bed. He kneels above you, freeing himself from his pants. He’s hard, the scent and taste of you mixed with the thought of your sweet pussy clenching around him sending lust spiraling through his mind. 

Your breath hitches in your throat as he presses inside you, the ridges of his cock catching on your tight walls as he works you open. Your body takes him, even with such little preparation, practically welcoming him inside. He lets out a breathy groan as he seats himself inside you, hips pressed flush against yours. He leans on his elbows above you, eyes watching your peaceful face. 

He begins to rock his hips against yours, thrusting in and out of you. Your lips part in a quiet moan, brow furrowing in your sleep. It’s almost sweet the way your body responds to him so eagerly, so readily. Your back arches as he drags his cock along your walls, the grip of sleep beginning to loosen on your mind. 

He continues to thrust into you as he watches you wake, eyes fluttering open. You stare up at him, a flash of fear passing your face as awareness takes its time coming back to you. Your back arches involuntarily, lips parting in a moan as he picks up the pace, thrusting harder into you. 

Your hands rise to cling to his back, nails digging into his skin. Your eyes roll back, hips lifting to meet his thrusts. You're close already, he can tell by the way you clench tightly around him. 

"Kriff, Maul!" You whine. "'M gonna cum!" 

He watches your face and the way it twists with pleasure as he focuses on your clit, a ghostly pressure brushing over it. He teases you with the Force as he continues to thrust into you, your spasming walls bringing him closer to his own release. 

"Cum for me." He growls, lowering his head to sink his teeth into your shoulder. 

You let out a delicious sounding yelp as his teeth sink into your skin, your pussy spasming around him as you’re thrown into an orgasm. Your body writhes under his, hips jerking as you cum around his cock. He sinks into you with a grown, your body milking his own orgasm hitting him. He spills into you, cock twitching as he coats your walls with his cum. 

You whimper under him, nails leaving marks on his back as you cling to him desperately. He eases the Force away from your clit, your legs shaking around his hips. He pulls free of your pussy with a shift of his hips, feeling satiated and warm after his orgasm. 

He presses a shockingly delicate kiss to the sore spot where his teeth sank into your skin before he rises, tucking himself into his pants. He leaves you there without a word, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm while his cum leaks out of your pussy.

Taglist:

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @rain-on-kamino @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @freesia-writes @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @eris-k @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sinfulsalutations @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips @ghostperson69 @captain_rexs_cyare @jediknightjana @jedi-hawkins @dalu-grantkylo

[yandere-wishes]

The feminine urge to make posts that are so barbiecore yet simultaneously have it chill the reader to the very bone and haunt their minds like Nosferatu.

[makrokosmuss-blog]

Make me come undone

Summary: Maul intends to train the reader, but is shocked to be pleasently surprised by how the combat enfolds.

Warning: Nothing? Softness? Maul getting treated well? (Shocking) A little heat. A/N: This is from a story i've nearly finished now. I don't think anyone is interested in Kenobi/Maul/Prequels stuff anymore but here i am writing nontheless. Reader/Oc is Darth Viscer, a Sith Lord who has helped Maul back on his feet and in exchange takes lessons from him since Sideous is to busy manipulating the Galaxy to care for his apprentice.

Maul sat, thinking deeply. Thinking about when all of this had started. How it had gotten this opressing, this intense. He simply meant to train her. He didn't meant for this. When had he first begun to want her? To truly desire to call her his and his alone? The memory surged forward with unrelenting clarity, a vivid reminder of the day she had made him feel utterly undone.

They had trained in hand-to-hand combat that day, as they often did. She was not particularly skilled in this area - it had always been one of her weaker points, and Maul approached it with a brutal honesty that left no room for indulgence. His strikes were precise, his movements calculated. He was relentless, expecting her to rise to meet him with the same unyielding tenacity. She had never won before, not once.

But that day was different.

She had arrived in her usual training attire, but as they stepped into the sparring circle, she did something subtle yet intentional. With a graceful movement, she removed the outer layer of her robes, revealing a more fitted underlayer that accentuated her form. It was practical, perhaps even necessary for ease of movement, but the way she did it, unhurried, deliberate …it made him falter for the briefest moment. As the soft silken fabric glided off her body she looked only at the ground while his gaze was on the graceful lines of her form, on the interplay of light and shadow dancing over her skin. Focus, he told himself, clenching his jaw as the delicate fabric slipped from her shoulders and pooled at her feet. His gaze betrayed him, lingering where it shouldn’t.  He could feel the heat rising, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He inhaled sharply, forcing his gaze upward, meeting her eyes for only a moment. She wasn’t even looking at him, her focus seemed fixed on the ground, oblivious to the chaos she stirred in him. Or perhaps not. She had a way of knowing things, of seeing through him in ways no one else could. This is nothing, he lied to himself as they moved to begin. Right now, She’s nothing more than an opponent. A distraction. That’s all this is. A dangerous, maddening distraction.

He shook it off, dismissing the distraction as an aberration. They began.

Her strikes were more fluid than usual, her movements sharper, and her gaze… It was her gaze that unsettled him. Those soft, knowing eyes met his with an intensity that wasn’t born of aggression but something far more disarming. She would lock onto him, her expression almost serene, and it threw him off balance in a way he couldn’t explain.

Then came the comments.

“You seem tense, my Lord.” she murmured as she dodged one of his attacks, her voice calm, almost teasing. “Tense.” He nearly growled aloud at the word, his jaw tightening. Of course I’m tense. You’re the cause of it. Her compliments landed like carefully aimed blows, throwing off his rhythm in ways no opponent ever had. She’s distracting you. Focus on her movements, not her words. Stop letting her get in your head. He growled in response, lunging again, only for her to sidestep with a fluidity that seemed more deliberate than instinctual.

“Your form is perfect,” she said, her voice lilting as if they were engaged in casual conversation rather than combat. “Always a pleasure to watch you…”

Her words dug into his focus, peeling it away piece by piece. He pressed on, determined to outmaneuver her, but she countered each of his moves with a grace that seemed almost effortless. Then she smiled. It wasn’t mocking or triumphant: it was soft, warm, and utterly devastating. Each of his strikes was calculated, precise, yet somehow, she managed to slip away with the ease of smoke curling through fingers.

“You’re fast, today” Maul muttered, circling her like a predator. “Why thank you, my Lord,” she teased, her voice honeyed with mock sweetness. “And you’re... determined, as ever.” A glimmer of irritation crossed his face. “Determined to see you focus, Viscer.” She ducked under a low swing, her steps light and graceful. Maul growled low in his throat, thrusting forward with a series of rapid jabs. This time, she moved closer instead of retreating, forcing him to pivot sharply. Her smaller frame twisted under his arm, her eyes catching his with a mischievous spark. She was not attacking at all. Simply avoiding him. “What did I tell you about fleeing all the time?”, he snarled angrily, leaving his tense position for but a second, “How do you expect to win against me if you don’t attack? Want me to fall over from exhaustion?” She only smiled at this, not at all taking him all too seriously before that smile was quickly washed away. He threw a kick that would have damn well knocked her out had she not moved in the last possible second. 

“Careful, Maul. You wouldn’t want to hurt me, would you?” she purred, stepping just out of reach again, never breaking eye contact. He stopped mid-motion, his breathing low and tense as he hissed at her. “Don’t tempt me.” “Oh, but isn’t that what I do best?” she cooed, her lips curling into a playful smirk.

For a moment, he couldn’t look away from her. The way she moved, the way her eyes burned with a sharpness that rivaled his own and her mind, oh, her mind….

He caught himself lacking quickly, his response a sharp swing, faster and more deliberate this time, aimed to disarm her entirely. She blocked it, but he was too strong for her, the impact forced her back a step. For the first time, she stumbled slightly, her composure slipping - but only for a heartbeat. When she looked back up at him she was not terrified but smiling brightly, teasing him once more. 

“Getting hot, my Lord?” she asked innocently, tilting her head as though she were oblivious to her own effect. His jaw clenched. “You’re stalling.” “And you’re distracted.” She darted forward unexpectedly, her kick aimed low to catch him off guard. He parried easily, but the suddenness of her attack forced him to shift his stance. She rushed around him again, her soft laughter filling the space as she avoided his next strike.

“Enough talking, enough evading!” Maul snapped, lunging toward her. She pivoted, her free hand brushing his arm as she twisted away. “But you love me talking-”, she purred. His grip faltered for a fraction of a second - just long enough for her to slip past him and circle behind. He spun, ready to lunge for her, but she was already at his side again, her hand running along his rips as if in a caress instead of a heated fight. “You’re too stiff,” she commented, standing again with an infuriatingly soft smile. “You need to loosen up.” That was it. Maul surged forward with a growl, finally catching her off guard. He pushed her back step by step, driving her toward the far wall. Her footwork faltered slightly, her back brushing the cold durasteel behind her.

“I’m done playing,” he hissed, closing the distance, his tone sharp with frustration. “I didn’t realize we’d started playing,” she quipped, her voice breathless yet teasing, a wicked glint in her eye. Stop listening to her.The thought was sharp, commanding, but it barely held. Her voice, soft, teasing, laced with that maddening calm, wrapped around him, tugging at his resolve. She’s toying with me, he thought, his frustration mounting as she slipped past another of his strikes, her movements more like a dance than an act of defense.

His focus slipped further, his precision faltering as her graceful dodges kept him chasing. She’s not stronger than me. She’s not faster than me. And yet…The truth clawed at him as her warmth unraveled him piece by piece. She doesn’t need to overpower me. She’s disarming me with... her…her…

He lunged again, determined to regain control, but there it was, the slight tilt of her head, the curve of her lips, the way her eyes seemed to see through him. Force help me.

Maul’s patience snapped. He rushed forward, his movements sharp and deliberate, aiming to catch her off-guard. She sidestepped him smoothly, her lithe frame just slipping out of his reach. He pivoted instantly, his hand swiping toward her, but she ducked low, her hair sweeping the floor as she twisted away. When she rose, her stance was loose and deceptively relaxed, her soft, mocking gaze fixed on him. Infuriating. The word slammed through his mind as his strikes met only air, her movements as fluid as a stream slipping past boulders. Her movements were maddeningly precise. Her voice cut through his spiraling focus, calm and teasing: “You’ll have to try harder than that if you want me.”

Want you? The phrase hit him like a blow. You arrogant... Yet even as the thought began, his focus wavered. Because somewhere, deep within, another voice whispered something far more dangerous. ...Do I?

His jaw clenched, and he surged forward again, this time closing the distance between them faster than she anticipated. She feigned left, then ducked low, sweeping her leg toward his to knock him off balance.

It almost worked. Maul stumbled slightly, but he recovered faster than she anticipated. Before she could retreat, his arms were around her, and their combined momentum sent them tumbling to the ground. He landed above her, pinning her down with an iron grip. One of his hands wrapped around her wrist, pressing it to the floor beside her head, while his other hand braced against her shoulder. His weight held her firmly in place, and his breathing came fast and heavy just as hers, her lips parted, her chest moving quickly beneath him. I’ve got her. The thought came sharply, like a blade finding its mark. His heart pounded in his chest, blood thrumming with adrenaline.

Her chest rose and fell beneath him, her breath mingling with his in the silence that followed. The power he felt from the sheer weight of the moment was intoxicating. He had the upper hand now, and he should have relished it, but something gnawed at him. Why? - Why doesn't it feel like a victory?

He looked down at her, her eyes steady and challenging, lips slightly parted with the rapid rhythm of her breath. Her body, though pinned beneath his, held no resistance. In fact, she seemed almost... content. Her defiant expression made his stomach tighten in ways he didn’t understand.

Then she spoke again, and her voice was a whisper, a tease, soft as a caress but cutting through him all the same. “You’ve got me.”

He should bellow a resounding “Yes” - Yet all  he could think of was how close she was, how her body was pressed so perfectly beneath his, how her breath, soft and warm against his skin, seemed to hold something far more potent than victory. He could feel the heat between them. He could sense her strength, even in her apparent submission. As he leaned in, prepared to declare his victory, she spoke again, her voice a whisper that sent a shiver through him.

“Are you sure you’ve won, my Lord?”

Her tone carried an implication that made his grip falter. In that instant, she twisted her body, slipping from his grasp like water through his fingers. Before he could react, she was on top of him, straddling his waist, her hands braced against his chest to pin him down. What is this? The thought came without warning, as his body froze beneath her. His instincts screamed to move, to fight, to flip her off him and assert control. He could have - he’d even begun to shift, his muscles coiling instinctively to push her off. But midway through the motion, he froze. Her hands weren’t holding him down, not really; they rested so lightly against his chest that he barely felt their weight. It wasn’t force that pinned him - it was her. The softness in her expression, the way her lips parted ever so slightly, and her eyes... they weren’t triumphant, but something else entirely. She looked as though she was gazing at a lover. His chest tightened. His thoughts scattered. His heartbeat drummed loudly in his ears as her soft gaze seemed to reach into the very core of him, unraveling everything he thought he knew about strength, about control, about power.

Fight her, he thought, almost desperately. I’m supposed to win, to dominate, to prove...

Her lips parted ever so slightly, a small, unspoken invitation, and that was all it took to leave him breathless. He was undone, and she didn’t even have to try. She leaned forward slightly, her hair falling over her shoulder in a cascade that framed her face. Her expression was calm, her breathing steady, as if she hadn’t just turned his world upside down. She was close enough to taste. Close enough for him to nearly lose himself.

“Yield,” she said softly, her amber eyes pinning him beneath her. The word hit him like a shockwave, reverberating in his chest, rattling his bones. His first instinct was to deny it, to fight against it. He had been trained to never yield, to never submit. He had lived for power, for domination, for the feeling of victory that burned in his blood. But now, as she sat atop him, her hands so soft on his chest, her gaze so steady, so unflinching... he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Why am I not resisting? His mind screamed, the remnants of his pride clawing at him. He could break free - he should. But the thought of doing so felt... wrong. All Wrong. Why would he ever give up closeness like this willingly?

He stared at her, every nerve in his body alight and frozen at the same time. Her voice, her presence, it was intoxicating. His twin hearts thundered against his ribs, and he swore she could feel it through the light pressure of her hands against his chest. He could smell the faint trace of something sweet in her hair, see the sharp intelligence glittering in her amber eyes, and feel the warmth of her so close.

For a man like Maul, power was everything. And yet, in this moment, none of that mattered. Not the training, not the endless hunger for revenge. Nothing mattered except her.

Her. Her. Her.

The way her eyes bore into him, holding him in place more effectively than any chain could. The way her soft smile radiated confidence and fulfillment in stradling him, entirely unafraid of him. She wasn’t gloating or mocking. She was simply there, undeniably present, as though the galaxy itself had been reduced to this single moment.

Why wasn’t he moving? Why wasn’t he pushing her off, taking back control, proving his strength? He could. He should. But he didn’t.

His lips parted, and he heard his own voice, low and unsteady, speaking words he never thought he’d say.

“I yield.”

The words tasted foreign, almost bitter, and yet, as they left his mouth, a strange calm settled over him. He wasn’t defeated. No, this wasn’t defeat. This was...it was...Desire?

Her smile widened as he'd noticed his mental shield were down. There was a glimmer of triumph dancing in her eyes, but it wasn’t cruel. It wasn’t smug. It was warm, almost affectionate, and it sent another shiver through him.

He didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, as she lingered there, gazing down at him as though she’d always known he’d say it. And maybe, deep down, he had always known, too. Then, so very slowly, she moved. Her hand, soft and light as a whisper, trailed down his jaw, her fingertips brushing the side of his face. The touch was gentle, tender, far too tender for someone like her. Her thumb swept across his cheekbone, and he closed his eyes involuntarily at the contact. Her skin felt cool against his Zabrak heat, it was soothing, everything he didn’t deserve and yet craved. Her gaze softened as she watched him, and the air between them shifted, becoming charged with something more than just physical proximity.

There was no smugness in her. Only contentment. Only... affection. The kind that didn’t need words to be understood. She had won, not with force, not with power, but with a quiet grace that left him utterly undone.

It was in that moment that he realized just how much he adored her. She wielded her influence not like a blade but like a caress, and it was devastatingly effective.

And with that realization came a surge of fear.

She was his savior, the one who had pulled him from the depths of madness. She was his student, the one he had sworn to shape into something formidable. But now, as he looked up at her, he felt something else entirely.

Desire.

It was a feeling he hadn’t known in years, perhaps not ever, and it terrified him. Desire meant vulnerability, and vulnerability was a weakness he could ill afford. Yet here she was, straddling him and he couldn’t bring himself to care about the danger she represented.

That day, he understood something about her and about himself. Firstly, that she had made him endlessly weak without landing a single blow. Secondly, that he was utterly powerless to stop her. And thridly, that he had never wanted something as badly as he wanted her.

[meshla-cyarika]

Can I be honest for a second and say that one of my biggest fanfiction pet peeves is when someone will write their character or the reader insert as someone who should in theory be really badass (for example a Jedi or a Mandalorian, or an Avenger, or a soldier/fighter in general) and then make them really weak and basically not be able to handle themselves at all? Like come on realistically these mfs should be able to kill someone. Maybe this is just me being a girl who isn't girly, but I just want a character like this who can actually defend themselves and doesn't cry and need to be picked up by their s/o all the time.

[my-sun-m00n-and-stars]

i fear i turn into a married middle-aged white woman in an instagram reels comment section whenever i see this specific cosplayer

[hornedstorys]

Darth Maul x Reader - Strange touch

Warnings: slight fear, Maul is not used to being touched, mention of injuries

Synopsis: Maul comes back from a mission injured and you tend to his wounds. However, the Sith is not used to being touched, but he couldn't help but be fascinated by you and your touch.

You had just picked up a book and were quietly browsing through it when suddenly the doors were torn open. The aura around you changed completely and it got colder for a moment.

Your gaze flitted to the entrance to the throne room. The Sith stood a few meters away from you, breathing heavily. He had been on a mission for almost a week and you had no idea what the purpose behind it was. Nevertheless, you immediately put down your book and met him as he walked towards you.

You originally came from a planet that rarely saw Sith or Jedi. But one day he came and stole you from your family. He made you his property and his servant. But he never touched you and only spoke to you when necessary.

“Master! What happened?” came the question from your mouth immediately and he didn't answer at first. He walked past you silently and sat down on the throne with a gasp.

You immediately grabbed the bandages and warm water. You approached him carefully but quickly. Your heart was racing and he could feel it. He could feel how nervous you were and it amused him. Maul still had his dark clothes on, but you couldn't treat his wounds that way.

“You need to undress, Master,” you whispered shyly and he raised an eyebrow, at least it looked that way because you honestly didn't know if he had eyebrows. Mainly because his black tattoos hid it.

“I can't clean your wounds otherwise,” you explained to him, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as he agonizingly slowly removed the layer of clothing, his upper body. You could see that he was in pain, but you also knew that he wouldn't admit it.

Carelessly, he tossed the dark material aside and you tried not to stare at him. It was wrong to covet a Sith like that, but he really wasn't bad looking. You gritted your teeth and grabbed the wet, warm cloth. When you touched his wound, the Zabrak hissed, but he bit his tongue. The sharp pain ran through his body, but he felt something else.

His shining eyes lowered to your hand with slightly closed lids. It rested gently on his bare arm. Your hand was soft, but still rough. You worked hard, you were a diligent servant. The pressure of your fingers was a foreign sensation, to the red and black Sith.

A strange warm feeling flowed through his veins and slowly he began to forget the pain. His eyes watched your concentrated gaze. Then he lifted his gaze. It slid over the crook of your neck, up to your face. You looked a little tired, probably because you hadn't been able to sleep and had been secretly worried about him when he was away for so long.

You are beautiful. He thought to himself and you hesitated briefly, as if you had heard his thoughts. His brow furrowed. He knew this was not possible. You were neither a Jedi nor Force-sensitive. You were a simple young woman. But still something special.

These feelings in his chest were so foreign to him, but he liked it, even if it scared him. Usually he was always in control, but slowly he felt himself losing it. No one had ever touched him. He was a monster and a murderer. Everyone was afraid of him, except you. Even though he had taken you away from your parents. You remained positive, even though he could often sense how hard it was for you. You missed your family, but there was no going back.

You washed the blood out of the rag and looked at his chest. The blood was already running down to his navel and you wondered if he wasn't already dizzy from blood loss.

Gently, but trembling, you placed your hand on his tattooed chest. He sucked in a sharp breath. Was he in pain? His skin felt warm under your fingertips and your cheeks glowed. Maul's gaze lowered to your hand gently touching his chest. His muscles ached and he watched silently as the blood flowed from his open flesh. But he couldn't stop staring at your hand touching him.

His mind was foggy. How could you dare to have such power over him. You were just a small, mortal human, without power. Feeling Maul's strong chest under your fingers made you so nervous that it almost scared you. But you tried to concentrate and cleaned the larger wound. Your hands were covered in blood, but it didn't bother you. You were used to it. You had dressed his wounds so often, even if it was very rarely.

Maul was a talented and strong Sith who won most fights. But this time it had cost him something. You often wondered if he had always been like this. Did he have a normal life before he was drawn to the dark side?

Suddenly you flinched as his big hand wrapped around your neck. He did it gently, without applying pressure. Your body immediately tensed and fear rose up inside you. What was he up to?

“Your pulse is racing,” he spoke and you frowned. His golden-orange eyes burned into yours and you almost felt dizzy. You didn't want to die. But at the same time, his touch felt good.

His hand loosened even more as he felt your body stiffen. You were afraid of him, there was no need to question that. He felt the pulse on your neck and the change in your emotions.

You ignored his statement for now. “I need to bandage your wounds, master,” your voice was hotter and you slowly pulled away from his grip, but only because he allowed you to. Slowly you wrapped the bandages around his arm. The wound on his chest was also bandaged.

You wanted to get up quickly. You wanted to get away from him and his closeness. He made you so nervous and restless. But he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you back to him. You had to support yourself against his chest, otherwise you would probably have stumbled.

He wanted to feel more. Maul realized how addicted he was to your touch and grabbed you by the hips. He pulled you onto his lap with a strength that no human could match. Your eyes grew wide as you rested on your master's lap.

Your fingers clawed into his shoulders and his hands still rested on your hips. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body. His eyes searched your gaze. He wanted to see your eyes, he wanted to look deep into your soul.

Suddenly your courage took hold of you and you gently began to caress his shoulders. A deep breath came from his nostrils and his eyelids drooped slightly as he looked at you.

You stroked the crook of his neck, his nape, even up to his cheeks and he didn't stop you. Then you moved down to his chest. His skin felt smooth and slowly you traced the shapes of his tattoos.

Slowly, you understood what was going on in his head. At least at that moment. He wanted to be touched. You could well imagine that he wasn't used to this. You squirmed briefly in his lap to sit more comfortably and immediately his glowing eyes landed on you again. Immediately you held still as you remembered that he was still a man and you knew exactly what a man had down there.

Carefully you took his cheek in your hand and he actually leaned against your palm and closed his eyes. His warm breath brushed your skin and left you with soft goosebumps.

He really enjoyed this touch. He gently pulled you closer to him and you had to wrap your arms around his neck. His face buried itself in your neck and he greedily inhaled your sweet scent. Your skin was so soft, just like your hair.

Your body nestled perfectly against his and your scent clouded his senses. Your cheeks grew hot and you wondered if it was right to sit here, but at the same time he attracted you like light attracts moths.

“I… I have things to do,” you breathed, releasing yourself from his grip. He actually let go of you and you fled the room. Maul sat on his throne and looked towards the door as it closed. He could still feel your touch on his skin and his fingernails dug into the material of his throne.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Headcanon/Preference # 37

Gifs NOT mine.

Rating - SFW

Reading time (roughly) - 12 minutes

Year posted - 2025

So yeah I totally killed the reader off in this one... Wanted this one to be angsty. Enjoy.

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

• Obi-wan Kenobi •

• Obi-wan knew he shouldn't have let you join him on this particular mission.

• He knew something was off about this mission, he had sensed it in the Force.

• But he'd let you join regardless, and now you lay at his feet, bleeding out.

• He quickly dispatched of the enemy, and pulled you into his arms.

• "My love stay with me, you're going to be okay."

• He cradled your head in his free hand, trying desperately to assure you that everything will be okay.

• While also trying to fool himself into thinking you'll be able to pull through.

• As your breathing turned shallow, he kissed your forehead, smiling through the pain.

• He needed to be strong for you.

• And as your eyes fluttered closed, and your chest stilled, Obi-wan felt as if a part of himself had died with you.

• Only then did he allow himself to cry, and Obi-wan Kenobi was never the same.

• Becoming a shell of the man he once was, he eventually leaves the Jedi and roams the galaxy, feeling utterly lost without you by his side.

• Anikin Skywalker •

• Anikin thought he could protect you from anything.

• His one truest love, the one person he would have done anything for.

• This is the most dramatic turn of events for Anikin, the moment when he gave into the dark side.

• Cradling your lifeless body in his arms, Anikin screamed and cried.

• "You can't leave me (Y/n), you can't!"

• And with the aggressive flick of his wrist, he killed those that had taken you from him.

• He was merciless, unforgiving, and beyond angry.

• Anikin felt as if he'd died alongside you, and in many ways he did.

• Alone he laid you to rest.

• His once beautiful blue eyes turned to yellow as he watched you disappear from his life.

• Anikin felt as if your blood was on his hands, as if he failed to protect you.

• He also felt as if he failed you, because if you hadn't loved him as deeply as you did, maybe then you wouldn't have given your life for his.

• The day you died, was the very same day Darth Vader was born.

• Qui-Gon Jinn •

• Qui-Gon knew he shouldn't have grown attached to you, he knew it wouldn't end well.

• The rules about attachments, about love, were in place for this very reason.

• Quickly he took care of the man that had fatally wounded you, and held you close.

• Try as he might with the help of the force he attempted to heal your wounds, unable to do so he tried his best to be strong for you.

• He pecked your lips, and brushed back your hair.

• "You're going to be alright darling, just breath. That's it, just keep breathing."

• His hands shook as he placed his free hand over your wound, trying weakly to stop the bleeding.

• Again he tried using the Force to at least try to ease your pain, to make this easier for you.

• "Just relax my darling, we'll see eachother again."

• Qui-Gon promised you with a weak smile, his heart breaking at the sight of your own equally weak smile.

• His heart breaking further as he felt your breathing slow down considerably, the light in your eyes fading with every shallow breath.

• If there was anything Qui-Gon was grateful for, it was getting to hold you in his arms one last time.

• Darth Maul •

• Maul was foolish enough to think you were untouchable, that you were both untouchable.

• And his world crashed around him as you collapsed to the ground.

• Maul thought he knew pain, but all that he's been through, all that he's done. It was nothing compared to losing you.

• "You'll pay for this!"

• Maul growled at the man that was daring enough to hurt you.

• Ruthlessly he slashed at the man, cutting him limb from limb, and keeping him alive until he was satisfied.

• His rage blinded him, and only subsidied when he heard you wheezing in pain.

• "(Y/n) my star."

• Without another thought he dropped his saber, and rushed to your side, cradling you against his chest.

• He was unfazed by your blood seeping into his robes, firmly placing his hand against your wound, desperately trying to at least slow the bleeding.

• "I'll find you again my star, nothing can keep me from you, nothing."

• Maul promised as he rest his forehead against your own, the connection between you both through the Force, assuring him that he could keep that promise.

• He also swore to take down anyone and everyone that was involved in your demise, whoever that man worked for was as good as dead, and anyone else Maul deemed guilty.

• Maul will destroy worlds to avenge you if he must.

• He kept his eyes locked with yours as you slowly slipped away, his hearts thundering with heartache.

• "We will be together again."

• Maul promised before you gave your final breath, a rage filled scream escaping him as you died.

• And all who knew of Darth Maul, learned that after your demise, the Sith could be far crueler, far darker than he had been when you were still alive.

• Maul eventually turns to the traditions of the Zabrak, and finds a way to reunite with you through the magick of his people.

• It isn't enough, and it'll never be enough, because it is simply a ghost of you.

• But until his demise it is all he can manage, and he will accept that while he cannot hold you anymore, he can at least still see you and speak with you.

• Feral Opress •

• Feral is heartbroken beyond belief.

• You were the only truly good thing in his life, you were his and he was yours.

• Savage had witnessed the whole thing unfold, and for the sake of his brother, he struck down the man that dared to harm you.

• Feral wasn't sure what to do, so he acted on instinct, and laid beside you, pulling you into his arms.

• You had once said laying in his embrace was your favorite thing, the thing that brought you the most comfort.

• And he knew that's all he could do for you, comfort you as you slowly succumbed to your wounds.

• "Sh sh my sweet, just relax, I'm here, I've got you."

• He brushed your hair back in a soothing way, ignoring how much it hurt him to feel your blood painting his skin.

• He peppered kisses across your paling face, his hearts breaking with every kiss.

• You giggled in a pitiful way, coughing a moment later, blood oozed from your mouth.

• And Feral, delicately, lovingly wiped it away.

• "It's okay my sweet, look at me."

• His lip quivered a little as your glossy eyes peered into his own.

• "I love you, don't you ever forget that."

• He pecked your lips, tears escaping him when your final breath wheezed out from your lungs.

• Savage Opress •

• Savage instantly saw red, his hearts filled with rage, and regret.

• He ripped the man who hurt you limb from limb with his bare hands. The man's blood only cooling his temper a little.

• Dropping the carcass carelessly to the ground, he rushed back to your side, and as gently as he could he picked you up and cradled you against his chest.

• With you in his arms, Savage walked carefully across the tundra of the desolate planet you were on, unable, unwilling to just leave you on this wasteland of a planet.

• "Oh little one, my sweet stupid girl. You should have just let me handle him."

• He meant well, he really did. But he was hurt that you would do something so reckless, so selfless.

• You had once promised him forever.

• You giggled weakly, reaching up to caress his handsome face. And Savage melted into your touch.

• His hearts broke, knowing he couldn't save you, not this time.

• His blazing eyes locked onto your pale face, he wanted to commit your face to memory, despite the fact that he already has every part of you committed to memory.

• "I'll see you again little one, through the magick, the Force, I will see you again."

• He promised as he cradled you close, the chill of your skin finally breaking his resolve.

• Savage cried as he held you close, falling to his knees as you struggled to breathe.

• He grew darker that day, much darker. Swearing to fight to the bitter end, until he could be reunited with you once more.

• Kylo Ren •

• The moment you collapsed before his eyes, Kylo felt as if he would die alongside you.

• With a rage filled cry, Kylo cut down the man that hurt you, and threw the rest over a nearby cliff with the Force.

• He fell to his knees beside you, watching helplessly as your blood stained the snow around you.

• "Starlight what have you done?"

• He breathed out as he pulled you into his arms, tears of heartache and rage streaming down his face, his helmet long since abandoned.

• "I couldn't- couldn't let you get hurt."

• You had wheezed out, desperately clutching the deep gash at your side. Kylo's hand rest over yours, desperately hoping to stop the bleeding.

• "I can't live without you."

• Kylo whispered in a broken voice, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

• He squeezed you tighter, as you grew colder and colder in his arms.

• "Don't leave me, please, I can't go on without you."

• Kylo shook in his sorrow and rage, as your breathing became shallow.

• Despite the fact that you were literally dying, you still tried to comfort him, brushing his hair back weakly, your blood staining his pale skin.

• This only served to break his heart further, how can he possibly go on without you?

• Kylo is the most likely to rage an all out war, in hopes of getting himself killed so he could be reunited with you.

• But that's not to say he won't fight to the bitter end.

• Armitage Hux •

• It took everything in Armitage to stay standing, to not collapse and cradle you in his arms.

• If he had done so, he knew your sacrifice would have been in vain.

• But the moment the man is killed by his troopers, he's falling to his knees and pulling you into his arms.

• "GET A MEDICAL DROID NOW!"

• He barks at his men, who rush to follow out his order.

• But it's too late, your once bright eyes are dull and lifeless, having died on impact.

• That doesn't stop Armitage from deluding himself into thinking you'll be okay.

• He's crying, and begging you to wake up, but you don't respond to any of his attempts to stir you.

• "Please angel, wake up, come on."

• He's shaking you, kissing you, and eventually in his desperation he's beating on your chest in an attempt to get your heart pumping again.

• By the time a medical droid comes, he refuses to let you go. His troopers eventually have to tear him away from your body.

• He's kicking and screaming, red in the face as he fights them. But it's no good, they are to strong.

• Armitage has to control himself during your funeral, every instinct in him screaming to not let you go, to fight to bring you back.

• He is much harsher after this, starting arguments more and more with Kylo, and taking every ounce of pain when Kylo throws him across the room with the Force, as if he deserves to be punished.

• He's even trying to goad Kylo into killing him, but the man has a little more restraint than the General had thought.

• Armitage is the most likely to give into his dark depressive thoughts, and take his own life.

• His final thoughts are of you and you alone.

• General Grievous •

• You were his most prized "possession" so to speak, nothing in all of the galaxy meant as much to Grievous as you did.

• "My treasure, no you can't do this, you can't leave me I forbid it!"

• He's killed the man before you even hit the ground, where you lay for mere moments before he's cradling you in his arms.

• He's gentle with you, as he quite literally sprints you to the nearest medical bay.

• "Get out all of you!"

• He barks at the droids, not trusting them to fix what cannot be undone. Certain that he'll be able to save you.

• He's frantic in his attempts to patch you up, almost unaware of the way you gently touch his arm.

• Grievous froze in an instant when you weakly called out his name, his attention now solely on your face, cupping your hand in two of his.

• "What do you need treasure?"

• He asked in a soft voice, ignoring how his voice shook with emotion.

• You simply smiled at him, as if taking in the sight of him was all you cared about in that moment.

• "I-I lo-ve-"

• You tried croaking out, only for your breath to be stolen as you slipped away, dying before his very eyes, trying to declare your love one last time.

• The very ground shook with his scream of despair and heart retching agony.

• From that moment on he took out every ounce of pain and anger at losing you on anyone he deemed a threat.

• Sometimes even on innocent people, who would unknowingly remind him of you.

• He fought dirty and ruthlessly, uncaring if he would get himself killed, or if he would even succeed.

• Grievous also travelled far and wide across the galaxy in an attempt to find some way to bring you back to life.

• He cared not for whatever it might cost, or what he might have to do, who he would have to kill.

• If there is a way he can bring you back, he'll find a way, not matter how long it takes.

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

[thicc-ray-of-sunshine]

looking through my old stuff that I never posted and was absolutely GUTTED by this bit I wrote about Maul

"You dared to follow the contours of his face even further where you found he had a literal crown of horns. How befitting. A creature so divine, hosting a physical crown to solidify their own majesty in whatever system they deemed so worthy."

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Characters who would call you a ‘stupid human’ but they’re trying to flirt

[ivorydragoness44]

April 2025 Recap

March 2025 Recap

The Apprentice word search puzzle

Star Wars Jedi drinking glasses - Hallmark

Dinosaur Coloring Book Update

Darth Maul concept art Japan figure

Star Wars Rogue One The Ultimate Visual Guide (Krennic pages)

Dino Update

Darth Maul x Reader: From Our Scars Masterlist

Dino Update

Darth Maul x Reader: From Our Scars, the soulmate au series poll

Fanfiction Update

Darth Maul x Reader: From Our Scars Part 3 moodboard

Darth Maul Sketch

Fanfiction Update

Murtagh Morzansson x gn!Reader: Wholesome

Bucky Barnes x gn!Reader: Business Card

[justalittletomato]

And again as always….

Maul lurches up, a scream ripping from his throat. He could still feel the flames and still hear the rats. Still hear them scurrying about. The metal clang and creak of his legs…he was still there…he never left! HE NEVER…

A cool hand presses onto his shoulder, “ You’re safe.” His starlight whispers. They carefully take hold of his hands. His nails aren’t mangled. There is no metal spider legs under the covers…beskar crafted into legs. He focused on his starlights touch…

Their hands on his. “We are on Mandalore, in Sundari. Your brother is a few doors down. I’ll put on a kettle for some tea..”

“Don’t” he mutters. The zabrak clings to them. He will not let go. “Not yet.”

His head pressed to their chest. Grounding himself in the touch, the warm. He had been found. He was…

“You’re safe. I promise.” His starlight assured.

He was not a child who had to be told such things…but he supposed it helped a little. Their hands moved to rub his back. Safe…

[lightsabergirl]

"I could fix him"

"I could join him"

I could crochet him a cardigan (what muuuuderr?)

(yes I organized them with the most recognizable at the top, yes I also know the last two are extremely niche and people won't know what I'm talking about, what of it?)

[just-a-little-cellist]

Hello there! I just came across your page and was wondering if I could get headcanons for Darth Maul and female that includes NSFW? I am trying to find as much Darth Maul content as I can cause I am currently crushing on the guy(and his actor, Ray Park)

(YES my first Maul ask! currently hyperfixating on him so you're in luck! since you didn't specify much I let the inspo flow and ended up doing a sorta first kiss scenario + some general NSFW, if you'd like me to expand on any of this or do anything different then feel free to send me another ask! enjoy :D)

(Darth Maul x fem (AFAB) reader - Maul being a little angsty but mostly fluff in the first half, NSFW labelled)

In the early stages of your relationship, before you become romantically involved, Maul spends a lot of time observing you. Just moving across a room brings the sensation of blazing eyes following your steps, and he makes little effort to hide it either.

It isn't clear whether he watches out of suspicion or curiosity. But you know he sees the shiver go through you every time you lock eyes with his intense stare.

He also doesn't speak much, which doesn't make it easier.

(Not that he'd ever admit it, to you or himself, but he prefers listening to you talk. He finds himself lost in the stories you tell and the emotion in your voice.)

He may resist your efforts to get close to him, even staying resistant to you once your relationship has been established, but he does want and need to experience genuine care. He's just not sure how to accept it.

The first time you gather your nerves and reach out to touch him, before any romantic advances had been made, he pulls away like he's been burned.

Almost all of the touch he's received before has been violent and painful. This is foreign, and he doesn't know what to do.

His expression is unreadable, and he storms away soon after, leaving you wondering if you'd overstepped and if this would finally be what tips his patience.

You don't have to wonder long though.

He enters the room that you're stood in silently enough that you only notice him when you turn around.

Maul stares down at you, his body far closer to you than you expected, and you fumble with your words when he doesn't say anything.

"HI! Uh... I'm really sorry if I overstepped earlier. It wasn't appropriate of me and I promise I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable I just-"

You trail off when the Zabrak slowly takes your hand.

He's... unusually careful, for someone so frequently fuelled by anger. He's gentle, and unsure, like he thinks you'll bolt at any moment.

His eyes stay locked with yours as he slowly lifts your hand up and, seeing no sign of fear or reluctance, places your palm against his face.

The contact is barely there, Maul clearly not certain what move to make from here. It's sweet, you think, that such an imposing figure would be so timid in receiving affection.

You smile softly, pleasantly surprised as your apprehension dissolves, and gently brush your thumb over his cheekbone. His eyes close, just for a moment, and he leans into the touch ever so slightly.

"Forgive me for earlier," he murmurs. "This is... new."

"That's ok, I can be patient."

He stares at you for a moment longer, trying to see if there is any motive beyond your sweet smile, but finds nothing but fondness.

"You have entranced me, starlight."

His eyes flicker down to your lips with longing in his eyes and, not one to miss an opportunity, you lean forward and kiss him softly.

Maul is stiff at first but, just as you're about to pull away, he melts into it. His hands slide up to your waist as your arms move up around his neck, and he hums approvingly at the feeling.

He only pulls back once he feels you smile against him.

Clearly feeling defensive and a little vulnerable, he looks at you questioningly.

"Sorry, it's nothing! I just-" You look at him and gather your thoughts. "I'm just glad you don't actually hate me."

"You thought I hated you?"

"I wasn't sure... you don't exactly make it easy to tell you know!"

He chuckles when you playfully swat at his arm.

"I could never hate you, starlight."

~ NSFW below <3 ~

Maul is not used to being vulnerable, in any scenario, so in the beginning he reverts to what he is used to: control.

He is exclusively dominant the first few times you have sex because that's what he thinks he's supposed to be.

He can focus on the way your lips part, the sounds you make, the feeling of your nails digging into his shoulders as you cling onto him.

It's your vulnerability, not his. It will take him time to feel comfortable enough for you to take the reins.

Soon into your relationship, you mumble a quiet plea and urge him to sit against the headboard. You straddle his lap and kiss him softly, but with so much passion that he stops breathing, and slowly sink down onto his cock.

This time it's him clinging onto you, and he swears nothing has ever felt better.

Maul is certainly a switch.

He has days where he feels such a primal need to possess you, to claim you.

It's days like this you find yourself on your knees, face pressed into the mattress while he fucks you from behind. His claws dig into your hips, making sure to leave marks, and his teeth are sunk into the soft skin of your neck.

(Invest in some high collars.)

However, when Maul feels the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders, he needs you to make the decisions.

He's resistant at first, not believing he deserves it, but he needs you to praise him. He has no preference for whether you're rough or gentle, but he needs to know he's being good for you.

He's also surprisingly obedient. To him, giving himself over is a show of trust, and maker knows you've already fought hard enough to gain his.

The fastest way for Maul to enter subspace, he has found, is with his head between your legs.

Just say the word and his tongue is pressed to your clit, so eager to draw pretty moans from you.

He can get lost in his task so easily, entranced by the sound and taste of you, not even realising that he's overstimulating you until your hands tug at his horns.

Gazing up at you with dilated pupils, already floating in his headspace and seeming almost distressed that you'd pull him away, it's too easy to indulge him and let him keep going.

At the end of a session with him, you always insist on aftercare. Once again, it's something he struggles to acknowledge his need for, but the first time you clean him up with so much care, murmuring how well he did, and guide him to curl up beside you, he couldn't imagine ever turning it down.

He's also getting more used to giving you aftercare when he's been domming. It was a struggle to know what you needed from him at first, but he's better at being careful when he cleans up any scratches you might have, at praising you, and at accepting the way you wrap your arms around his waist as soon as he lays down beside you.

Like many things with Maul, it takes patience before you can see the true him, but it's worth the effort.

And when he lays in bed with you tucked into his side, smiling contentedly, he's never felt so lucky.