#knights of old iridonia

[aftergloom]

Six Sentence Sunday

This is for that person smashing kudos on every fic in this series. I see you. I love you.

Warnings: Feral delivering lil' shit energy again, mild spice

“I think it’s stuck.” 

This time you’re laughing: one hand clapped across your mouth as you jerk with the force of Savage’s hands — his heavy fingers on the zipper of your dress threatening to tear the delicate weave.

“Impossible,” he mutters. 

The fabric is woven, and crumply, and blacker than pitch. They don’t put brides in white on Dathomir, because white belongs to the dead and the mourning them, but no one’s been slaughtered so… you’re fine? You guess? 

No one wants you wearing red. 

Least of all Feral, who — fresh from his shower — is oiling his chest with some fragrant, nutty concoction that leaves his skin soft and glistening. The fact that he’s watching you as he touches himself slowly while wearing that half-grin that speaks of trouble should be a problem, but you’ve got other things to worry about.

Like Savage accidentally tearing you out of your clothes, for example. 

[in-love-with-darth-vader]

Star Wars as if it were like the Office! (Also i need a title, so if anyone has any ideas for that or any suggestions in general, let me know.

Also, sorry if this sucks. I don’t write very often nor have I ever written a screenplay type of thing before. I honestly just did this for fun!

PART 1

“Anakin, what are you doing?”

“I’m standing on the edge of this balcony.”

“Yes, I can see that. Why are you standing on the edge of that balcony?”

*pan to the chaos of Coruscant below; ships speeding in traffic, huge buildings, and an insanely long drop. Obi-Wan is standing behind Anakin on the part of the balcony that’s made to be stood on; Anakin is on the edge of the railing*

“Uh, well, some of the clones said there was no way that I could jump and land in one of the ships flying through the city, and I told them I definitely could, so here I am.”

*Obi-Wan looks to the camera in annoyance and disbelief; camera pans down to Anakin’s end point where Fives, Echo, and Jesse wave up to his position*

“Absolutely not. Get down from there right this instant!”

“Sorry, Master!”

*he jumps, and he is flying through the air for about two seconds when he suddenly freezes. Obi-Wan is looking down at him as he holds him mid air with the Force, slowly raising him back up to eye level*

“Anakin, you are twenty years old. Could you maybe start acting like it?”

*he drops him onto the floor; Anakin gets up and sulkingly follows Obi-Wan out of the room*

*this would be where the theme song and title card would go*

In the background: “yeah, so Obi-Wan refused to let me jump, so I had to come back here. Sorry you all waited for nothing”

*Obi-Wan turns to the camera*

So, does Anakin do this sort of thing frequently?

“Oh, yes. He doesn’t seem to care about safety or his own well-being. That’s the third time this month I’ve had to stop the Balcony Jump. And clearly I’m the only one who thinks these are bad ideas, so I’m always the one who has to step in. I swear I already have a few grey hairs from having to stop Anakin from doing something stupid so often.”

*back to normal scene*

“Alright, everyone gather around, we have a new mission to discuss.”

*anakin, ahsoka, and many of the clones from the 501st and 212th gather around Obi-Wan*

“The chancellor seems to think it’s a good idea for us to go investigate a possible takeover on Ryloth….” *fades out as we zoom in on Anakin clearly bored and not listening*

“I hate debriefings. When Obi-Wan does them he talks for forever. They’re too long, so I just tune him out and pretend like I know what I’m doing on the actual mission. When I tell the others what we’ve been assigned, I take 2 minutes tops. Master Obi-Wan stretches it into at least 10.”

*now to ahsoka*

“Yeah, Master Kenobi goes over every single detail in the mission log every single time. I’ve had to slap Anakin awake in the middle of a meeting too many times to count.”

*back to obi wan speaking to them all*

“So, we need to go in and investigate the distress signal’s purpose, mainly to see if it’s a separatist attack. Anakin, you’ll be positioned here and you’ll direct your troops to-Anakin?? Are you listening to me?”

*obi wan turns away from his whiteboard where he’s drawing out strategy to see Anakin staring slightly up at the ceiling. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed, but Obi wan knows his past-padawan turned Jedi Knight too well*

“What? Oh, yeah, of course I am.”

*interview with obi wan*

“Anakin is a terrible liar. You’ll soon find that out.”

*switch to interview with Anakin*

“Luckily for me, I’m an amazing liar, so I’m not worried.”

*back to the scene. Obi-Wan has his hands on his hips in his judgmental pose™️ facing Anakin*

“Oh really? Then what did I just tell you to do?”

“Uhhh I have to hold my position, lead the 501st, all that jazz”

“Mhm and where is this all going down?”

“Uh, Iridonia of course.”

“You literally could not be more incorrect.”

*obi wan int.*

“Told you so.”

*anakin int.*

“Okay, in my defense, there’s thousands of planets. I had like a 1% chance of guessing correctly.”

*back to the scene*

“Ryloth, Anakin. Ryloth is where we’re going. A distress call was detected coming from the planet, and since the Separatists have a history of meddling with the peace of Ryloth and its citizens, we were instructed to go inspect. I will not repeat myself again. That is all, everyone get ready. You’re dismissed.”

*interview with Rex; clones preparing armor and weapons in the background*

So, are you kind of like the leader of the clones around here?

“Uh, I’m the captain of the 501st Battalion under General Skywalker’s command. I follow his orders and then lead my brothers to execute those orders. We’re one of the most successful groups of clones, so I take great pride in-“

*rex is interrupted as the camera switches focus to the background where Jesse Kix and Fox are all at each other’s throats. They’re stealing each other’s helmets and tossing them around. Rex turns to look*

(Sigh) “as I was saying…I take great pride in our success and professionalism.”

“Rex!”

“Sorry, gotta go do my job now.”

*they board the ships and head off to Ryloth*

*camera switches to Anakin on Ryloth*

“Can we please leave now?”

“Absolutely not, Anakin. We still aren’t quite certain what set off the alarm.”

“It was probably just an accident. There’s nothing here, Master. Ahsoka, back me up.”

*ahsoka is looking down at and messing with a data pad clearly not listening to Anakin*

“What? Oh, uh, yeah. Totally.”

“Were you even listening to me?! I was speaking to you, Ahsoka. Can I get a little bit of respect please?”

*obi wan looks at the camera like ‘are you fucking kidding me’*

“Listen, Master, I started to tune you out like an hour ago. All you’ve done is complain.”

“Because there’s nothing here! I want to go home!”

“You just want to get back to Coruscant in time to go to that party for the senators.”

“What??????!?!?? That’s absurd, master. Absolutely preposterous. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

*cut to Anakin*

“Okay, I know exactly what he’s talking about, but I can’t admit it! There’s this politician gathering tonight and normally I wouldn’t be one to willingly seek out social gatherings-especially one full of politicians-but Padme is going and she asked if I would come. So of course I said yes. Also, they usually have those little cocktail weenies, so no way I’m missing that.”

*cut to obi wan*

“Anakin is terrible at hiding things, especially from me. He clearly wants to get back so he can go to the party tonight with Senator Amidala.”

Any reason why he’d want to go with her so bad?

“Oh, yes, you see my former Padawan thinks he’s sly, but as we all know he’s a terrible liar. He’s been pining after the senator since he was a boy. I assumed it would pass by now, but clearly he’s still infatuated with her. They’re very good friends but he still has his teenage crush on her. It’s very unprofessional.”

Will you be attending it as well?

“Oh, no. I’m not one for politics.”

*back to the scene*

“What? Master why are you going to that stupid thing? You hate those types of parties! Plus, last I checked, you are not a politician.”

*cut to Anakin*

“So I’ve never actually told Ahsoka about my secret relationship with Padmé…”

*back to the scene*

“Uhhhhh because I’m good friends with the Chancellor, obviously. He would like me there to….to talk about strategies. Yes. Strategies for the Republic.”

“At a formal gathering for politicians? That doesn’t even make any sense!”

“...you’re asking way too many questions, Snips. We have a mission to focus on! You’re better than this!”

*ahsoka looks suspiciously at him as obi wan shakes his head at the two of them*

“Now that you’re done bickering, will you two please go explore the blocked off caverns for any possible signs of life?”

*both, simultaneously and clearly annoyed*

“Yes, Master.”

——-

“You know, there’s nothing in these caves. He just wanted us out of his hair. He’s just keeping us busy.”

“How can you know for sure?”

“Because I don’t sense anything. There’s nothing in here.”

“Master Kenobi told us to do it, so that’s what we’re gonna do.”

“So you listen to all of his orders but not mine?”

“Well, Obi-Wan doesn’t lie to me, so yes.”

“Psh. Pssshh. I’m not lying to you...that’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not. Tell me the real reason you’re going to that party! I know that you’re lying!”

“I’m absolutely telling the truth. I don’t know why you’re so adamant about this. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh please. Whenever you lie you start using big words and you talk faster than normal. Just tell me the truth!”

“Fine. My friend Senator Amidala was allowed to bring someone and since we’re friends she asked me if I would like to come along too. So I said yes.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Makes sense why you’re so anxious about it.”

“Whatta you mean?”

“Oh, nothing, it’s just that you’re going to a party as the Senator’s plus one which she asked you to. It’s definitely a date.”

“Whaaaaaaaatt. It’s not a date. That’s ludicrous! We’re just friends. Plus, I’m a Jedi. We can’t go on dates!”

“Right, and you don’t have a crush on her.”

“I don’t have a crush on her! We’re friends! It’s extremely platonic.”

*int. With Anakin*

“Okay, so it’s not platonic. But I don’t have a crush on her because I’m married to her! If I tell her that I willingly break the Jedi Code whenever I want, then maybe she will too! And then what kind of Master would I be?!?!”

I thought you technically weren’t a Jedi Master.

*zooms in on anakin’s ‘I will fuckin kill you’ face”

*back to the scene*

“Right, and I don’t secretly steal your jackets when you’re sleeping when I’m cold.”

“What?”

“What?!”

“.....look, can we just get back to the mission?”

“Sure thing, Skyguy. Wait till Master Kenobi hears about this.”

*under his breath* “pretty sure he already knows...”

*scene switch to obi wan, he’s with Cody and many other clones. They’re in a room in one of the government buildings on Ryloth surrounding a beacon device. It’s a distress signal activator.*

“And you’re sure you didn’t do this, Mr. Syndulla?”

“No, Master Kenobi. I only use the distress beacon for serious emergencies. I have no clue as to who did this. There aren’t many people that have access, and it’s not something that just anyone can do by accident. You must enter a code and confirm multiple times.”

“Thank you for the information. Will you let us inspect the fortress for any intruders?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Thank you. Cody, take Waxer, Boil, and Gearshift to the west wing. Gregor, you and your troops take the left. Myself and Crys will start here. Report back if you find anything.”

“Sir yes sir!”

*we see Obi-Wan and Crys searching first. They stayed in the room where the beacon is kept. Obi-Wan is looking through digital records as Crys is underneath it looking at its internal parts like those scenes where someone is laying on a skateboard to fix a car*

“This is strange. There’s no trace of tampering with the records or files. Nothing was wiped. This doesn’t seem like sabotage or a distraction for something bigger. Crys, do you have anything?”

*crys rolls out from under the beacon*

“No, sir. Everything is wired and hooked up properly. No signs of sabotage or demolition.”

“Hmm.”

*Int. With Crys*

“I’m really good with robots and droids, so that’s probably why General Kenobi wanted me to tag along with him. Usually he takes Cody, but this is more of my field of expertise.”

*back to the scene*

“This is trivial indeed.” *he’s doing his beard stroke* “I wonder if the others have found anything.”

*switch over to gregor and his troops. They’re searching the left wing of the fortress. They’ve been interviewing many citizens of Ryloth. They’re not very successful*

“I don’t see the point in talking to anyone else. I doubt they’re gonna know anything. We should report back to the general.”

*int with Gregor*

So, Gregor, can you give us a little summary of what you do around here?

“Yeah, sure thing. Uh, I’m kind of like third in command here. I’m a captain in the 212th Battalion and that’s pretty much all there is to it.”

Your helmet is very interesting. It’s pretty unique compared to the rest of your brothers.

“Oh, this? Some clones have tallies, but these represent stitches.” *he points to em* “It’s basically just showing how many injuries I’d have and how many stitches I would’ve gotten if I didn’t have the helmet. I think it’s pretty cool.”

*back to the scene. They’ve found nothing*

“Yeah, I’ll comm the general.”

*gregor taps into his comms and contacts Obi-Wan*

“Gregor, have you found anything?”

“No, general, I called to report that we’ve found nothing out of place. The twi’leks we’ve interviewed seem like they know nothing. How about you?”

“No, sadly we’ve come across nothing either. The beacon hasn’t been tampered with whatsoever.”

“We’ll keep looking around. I’ll keep you updated.”

*he hangs up the comm*

“Alright, boys, let’s keep going!”

*we now cut to Waxer and Boil being lead by Cody. They’re going door to door in the right wing where the rooms are located asking questions*

“This is leading us nowhere, Commander.”

“I know, Boil, but General Kenobi told us to inspect the entire right wing. We only have three more rooms to do. Let’s go.”

“Fine.”

*they knock at the next door*

“Hello?”

“Hello, ma’am. My name is Commander Cody of the 212th Attack Battalion. We’re on a mission here from the Jedi council. The distress beacon gave off a signal earlier today and we were wondering if you knew anything about it.”

“I’m very sorry I can’t be of any help to you, Commander, but I know nothing.”

*suddenly, a small child comes running down the hallway laughing. She trips and falls and scrapes her knee.*

“hey, are you okay?”

“Waxer you know that’s not how you talk to a child!”

“I’m sorry! You know I get awkward around kids. Why do we always find a runaway child when we’re on Ryloth? Like, how has this actually happened twice?”

*boil ignores him and kneels down to the kid*

“Hey there. My name is Boil. Are you okay? Do you need help?”

*she looks a bit frightened still. Boil realizes he still has his helmet on so he takes it off.*

“Sorry about that. Is it okay if I patch up your knee? I keep bandages on me, you can even pick the color if you want.”

“...okay. Blue please.”

“Blue it is. So, why were you running so fast? Is anything chasing you?”

“No. I was just looking for my papa. And I’m bored. I played with his fun machine today.”

“His machine, huh?”

*the three clones look at each other with a look™️ and Cody comms obi wan*

“General? I think we found your culprit”

——————

“‘Wow Anakin, you’re such a genius. It’s almost as if you were right all along!’ ‘Why thank you, Master. I knew I was right, and now we can go home even though we could’ve earlier.’ ‘Yes, you’re so right. We should’ve listened to you the whole time-“

“Anakin, are you finished?”

“‘we should make you a master on the council. I admire you.’ Now I’m finished.”

“Oh, give it a rest, Master. We get it, you’re right, now let’s get you home for your date.”

*anakin freezes and turns slowly. They’ve been walking up the ramp to board their ship when ahsoka said that. Anakin is now very red in the face*

“....what. What are you talking about snips??!! I don’t have a date. I don’t date. I’m just attending a senator party with the Chancellor. A date. Psh. Psh.”

“But you told me-“

“LETS GET ON THE SHIP, AHSOKA!”

*obi wan just rolls his eyes as they board the ship*

*We’re back to Coruscant!*

“Finally, we’re home. I’m so tired from all the nothing we did.”

“Oh, Anakin, you are such a drama queen. We did our mission like we were supposed to. Now, can I please speak to you in private?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Even though you have complained a lot today, I still care about you Anakin, and I know you made a promise to someone else already. So, I will go inform the Jedi Council that this was a false alarm by myself. Maybe I’ll take your Padawan. But you, my friend, should go get ready for your senator party.”

*anakin hugs obi wan*

“Thank you, Obi-Wan. I owe you one.”

*anakin goes up to his apartment on Coruscant where Padme is; she’s on their couch reading something and already dressed when anakin comes in*

“I’m back! I’m finally back!”

“Hello to you too Anakin. I was hoping they’d let you out. You’re cutting it close this time.”

“I’m so sorry. We had to go to Ryloth for no reason and Obi-Wan wouldn’t let me leave until we knew for sure what happened.”

“Well, I’m glad you made it in time.”

“Me too. Obi-Wan is letting me skip the debriefing for this.”

*he goes to change into his formal clothes for the party. Padme is already wearing one of her super rad fancy senator outfits. Anakin has an all black suit cause you know he’s that guy™️.

*int with Padme*

“Anakin has missed a lot of these outings with me due to Jedi business, so I wasn’t expecting him to actually be here for this one. I’m glad he is. I don’t see him as often as I wish I did.”

Do you ever think of asking him to leave the Jedi Order then?

“Oh, no. Absolutely not. I would never ask him to give up his life like that. And I don’t want that either. He’s a great Jedi and he loves what he does. I would never try to take that away from him.”

*back to scene. Now they’re walking down the halls of the senate building on their way to the party*

“So, get this, Ahsoka is convinced that I have a crush on you and that this is a date.”

“I mean, she’s not exactly wrong, is she?”

“Well, no, but I don’t really have a crush on you since, you know, we’re married. And she meant date as in ‘you invited me to this thing but we’re not together but in her eyes, it’s a date’ kind of thing.”

“Hmm so she still doesn’t know?”

“No. I can’t bring myself to tell her. I love her, but I don’t want to taint her mind and views of the Jedi Code and council. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“A very good point. You’re a good Master, Anakin.”

“Thanks.”

*they then enter the party. Many political figures from across the galaxy are there already. Its purpose is unknown to us, but it is clear that it’s important but also not too serious. They speak with many different people included Palpatine. We have yet to actually speak to him yet. Anakin is eventually over near the snack table, a drink in his hand and another one being handed off to Padme*

“Here you go. It’s your favorite.”

“Thank you. So, are you having fun yet?”

“Well, I don’t think I’ll ever have fun hanging around any politicians but you, but it’s not so bad. Plus, these snacks are really good.”

*padme rolls her eyes but laughs at him*

“It’s nice for us all to get together like this. It’s important for the Republic.”

“Mm, indeed.”

*they continue chatting until Anakin notices someone across the room. Fancy blue outfit. Blonde hair up in a bun. He doesn’t notice who it really is until she comes a bit closer. He does the pikachu face and drops his drink, luckily catching it midair with the force as he apologizes to those around him*

“Anakin?? Are you okay? What was that for?”

“You didn’t tell me she was going to be here!”

“Who?”

*he points to her by nudging his head in her direction hoping Padme will see who he’s talking about*

“Her? That’s my friend Satine. She’s the Duchess of Mandalore. She’s-wait a minute, how do you know her??!?”

“Nothing bad, I assure you. I’m actually quite fond of her. I just wish I knew sooner!”

“Why?”

“Because that, my love, is Obi-Wan’s girlfriend.”

END of this part.

Part2

——

[aftergloom]

Six Sentence Sunday, multiple works

A little shaky in my resolve to just stick to one thing at a time, I have done... bad things... in service of fanfiction this week.

1. The Longing (Savage Opress, Feral Opress, Gen) 2. The Wild Hunt ( Savage x Reader, Unseelie AU) 3. Three Princes: The Shadow Hand (Savage x Reader, New Dathomir AU) 4. Knights of Old Iridonia: Part Whatever (Savage x Reader, Feral x Reader, Maul x Reader, Poly) 5. Crown of Horns (Feral x OC, excerpt feat. Sav & Maul)

Hope you're doing well. This status update has been brought to you by too much coffee and shirking every other responsibility on my plate rn. 😘

Chewing on two other things too, but let's not talk about those while they're incubating.

The Longing

Are there places we might go to see each other again, somewhere in between where there’s no discernible end between horizon line and sky: an intersection where the veil is thinned enough that in the whisper of the breeze between each sheave of grass, I can hear your voice calling to me in those familiar, exasperated tones:

“Brother.”

But it’s just the wind, and of course, I’m alone here under all that blue — whorls of distant stars overhead, streaky nebulas under distant clouds, some brighter than others, far from here, and I wonder:

Where are you?

The Wild Hunt

It’s quieter out here.

The wood breathes, the cottony silence falling thicker — like snowfall, you think — as if the night were blanket that smothers the chirp and croak of living things.

And when you tilt your head, wondering at the long stretch of stillness where the only thing you can hear is the sound of your own breathing, it occurs to you that the forest has never been so still. Awareness prickles, curving inwards to press out from your skin — raising the gooseflesh on the back of your arms and the down on the back of your neck as if whatever portent dwells in the dim could alert you to the sudden understanding that not all is as it seems. You shiver, straining to focus on the last dwindling patch of star-strewn sky, and hold your breath.

In the distance, but not so far away that it doesn’t sober you instantly, a twig snaps.

Three Princes: The Shadow Hand

“Why?”

Savage stares a beat, and when he shucks his robes from his shoulders, what he reveals are bare arms and a tunic fit to bursting, buttoned to the throat, heavy vambraces and armoured plate that moults off of him, falling off in pieces as he unfastens the clasps that hold it all in place. Each piece is set down on a cloth-covered altar-style bench with care as he disrobes.

“Water,” he says at last, which isn’t an answer at all, but you follow after him like a curious tuk’ata, deeper into a space with high ceilings that nevertheless appears too small for someone of his stature.

Knights of Old Iridonia Series: Part Something Something

There are red robes in the closet, but —

Red reminds them of the time before Maul took the throne; their indenture. It was a preferred colour worn by the Nightsisters, which turns any nice feelings attached to it sour. The boys, though…

Red and purple and brown, through and through: ceremonial colours for the big rituals, because Dathomir’s magic connects them to their world, and red and purple and brown are sky and stone and soil, respectively. Dathomir’s in their blood. It’s in their bones, and their flesh… which you notice, because Savage and Feral aren’t shy and everything’s on display:

Bare chests. Low-slung trousers in a soft, loose fabric that leaves nothing to the imagination. Delicate jewelry in their piercings catching the light off the braziers.

Little gold chains thread through Feral’s horns, one clipping to the cartilage in his ear with a delicate hoop. They make soft sounds when he tips his head, assessing.

You don’t hear the thread in your dress pop when Savage tries the zipper again. You feel it —

It’s not unlike the last time Maul snuck his fingers into the gusset of your panties and tore them off with a muted snap.

Crown of Horns

A lick of impatience fuzzed the holocall, sending lines of static through Maul’s darkening expression.

“You’ve arrived where?”

Savage waved it off. With a quarter of a stimstick left to spare after dosing himself twice, the bacta working diligently to repair his wounds, and the brassy sunshine on his face, it felt a little like a beach vacation he’d not once had the opportunity to indulge in while in his brother’s service.

“Moraband,” Savage repeated. “Stygian caldera —“

“I am familiar with the world’s whereabouts, brother, and it’s history.”

He gathered himself, a lick of tension felt even across the great distance between them. In a past life, perhaps, the news would have resulted in a test of wills and an expression of power to demonstrate who had the final say in the course of action Savage would take to correct the problem.

“A sidetrip to the Sith homeworld,” Maul mused aloud. “An interesting choice of diversion.”

[aftergloom]

🌹🥵

For every 🌹 in my inbox, I’ll post one line from a WIP I’m writing.

...the heavy digits that smooth over your ass are careful, squeezing just a little as if to test the ripeness of the fruit, but not bruise it.

Knights of Old Iridonia Part III, Opress Bros x Reader (poly)

[aftergloom]

🌹

For every 🌹 in my inbox, I’ll post one line from a WIP I’m writing.

“Granted, you could wear a bantha hide and you’d be as beautiful, love. The wrappings come off, the person below —” He shrugs. Winks. “Wouldn’t say no.”

Knights of Old Iridonia Part III, Opress Bros x Reader (poly)

[aftergloom]

Masterlist: Fic & Sundry

If you're even remotely puritanical in your shipping predilections I regret to inform you that you've arrived at precisely the wrong place for your personal well-being. Please take care of yourself.

MDNI/ROAR: This blog is 18+ and so am I. Absent an age in your profile will likely earn you a block. I'm not interested in welcoming the company or engagement of anyone who makes fandom inhospitable for someone else.

For legal and consenting adults: tags and content warnings to curate your experience.

@thenightmarketofdathomir (Opress Bros Smut Blog) @maulfvckers (Darth Maul Curated Content) @fuckyeahroguegambit (X-Men)

Latest Works

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Least of all when Lord Maul throws a party in honour of the old Gods.

Read it on Ao3 >

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The new Lord of Dathomir is set on reviving and bastardizing ancient traditions, and you, a Priestess, are intent on doing your job — no matter how off-putting he is.

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This Fic is Cursed Darth Maul x Reader, Savage Opress x Reader, Feral x Reader

A cursed bedroom, a creepy doll collection, and three Opress brothers seeking some private time with their respective partners. Unfortunately, no one told them the bedroom on the fourth floor doesn't unlock from the inside. Nothing bad can happen, right? Read it here >

Three Princes: Part I - The Oldest Profession Feral Opress x Reader, Savage Opress x Reader, Maul x Reader

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Fanfiction

Live works live on my Ao3. I'm including a few selected outtakes from @thenightmarketofdathomir here as well: a couple of favourite headcanons and ficlets.

Since I regularly post Six Sentence Sundays, work in [brackets] refers to the tag for that particular project. Feel free to take a peek at what's coming.

On Ao3, older work is shuffled under pseuds from different eras, including luciademedici, and octobertown. nxctuary's for new work.

The "retired" section has some oldies that aren't available for public consumption anymore, and some of them I don't mind sending off as PDF. Leave a comment if you're downloading something. I'd love to hear it.

Works in Progress/Unreleased

Archangel - Darth Maul x Reader, Shibari AU [tag] Crown of Horns - Feral x OC [Kai Dara Koth] Hell is Empty - Opress Bros x Reader, Demon AU The Mixtape - Maul x Reader, NA Contemplative AU, 88:88verse Nihilism - Maul, Genfic (Character Study for The Mixtape) The Longing - Savage & Feral Opress, Genfic [tag] Second Line - Rogue x Gambit, Anteverse Adjacent AU Knights of Old Iridonia: Part 2.75 - Maul x Reader Knights of Old Iridonia: Part 3 - Opress Bros x Reader (poly) The Wild Hunt - Savage Opress x Reader, Unseelie AU [tag] Untitled Bookshop AU - Feral Opress x Reader [tag]

Works in Progress/Live

A Salted Field - Rey/Kylo Ren (24/30) The Ante - Rogue/Gambit (25/35) Knights of Old Iridonia Series (3/4 Parts) The Night Market of Dathomir (180) Three Princes - Opress Bros x Readers (1/3)

Headcanons

Fave Soft-to-Spice Feral Headcanons (Feral Opress x Reader) Honour: A Darth Maul Headcanon Honour: A Savage Opress Headcanon Summer Love Feral Opress - Part I Summer Love Feral Opress - Part II Nightbrother Claws and Folklore Nightbrother Tattoos and Reclaiming Traditions of Old Iridonia Nightbrothers and Life on Dathomir Nightbrothers, Death, the Afterlife, and Commemoration Darth Maul Punk Rock AU for The Mixtape New Dathomir: Balance among the Nightspeople Zabrak Horns Treatment and Growth Q&A

COH COMMISSIONED ARTWORK

Feral Opress on Malachor by @butts-art Feral Opress on the Insurgent by @maulieber Kai Dara Koth on Kohlma by @butts-art Savage Opress on Moraband by @butts-art Kai & Feral on Empress Teta by @butts-art Darth Maul on Dathomir's Throne by @butts-art Kai & Feral Portraits by @moonlitalien

COMMISSIONED ART FOR OTHER WORKS

Feral at the Pleasure House from Three Princes by @butts-art

Completed Works

OPRESS BROS X READER (POLY) Somebody's gonna have a bad time (3/3) Tell that Zabrak he just made my list of things to do today (4/4) Nobody asks the pertinent question until the end. (1/1) The Night Market of Dathomir (Ongoing)

DARTH MAUL X READER Brula Shampoo (AFAB: gn) The Collector (Bookshop AU, 1/1) The Perfect Pet - Part I (Drabble) The Perfect Pet - Part II (Drabble) The Ritual This Fic is Cursed (Trio x Readers) Three Princes (Upcoming) This is not the Sundari throne (AFAB Cis) You think you're worthy? You're not. (AFAB) Post-Battle Canoodles (AFAB)

FERAL OPRESS X READER Article 342: One locking door (1/1) First blush of dawn (Drabble) Little Hours Away (1/1) Mazes (Drabble) Socks (Drabble) The Dominant Kind (1/1) Three Princes: Part I - The Oldest Profession (1/3) This Fic is Cursed (1/1) You're cute for a fuck toy. (Drabble) We're Feralfuckers in this house (Drabble)

SAVAGE OPRESS X READER But what's the lucky number? (Drabble) Dathomir's Champion (Ficlet)Long Days, Pleasant Nights (Drabble) The Fanged God Walks (Drabble) This Fic is Cursed (Trio x Readers) The Throne (Drabble) Make you smile (Drabble) No Losers Here (Drabble) Paging Doctor Savage (Drabble) Three Princes (Upcoming)

REY X KYLO REN For Darkness, Stars (Canonverse AU, 37/37) Ghost Story (PDF, 1/1)

ROGUE X PYRO (X-MEN) Burnt Offerings (Explicit, 3/3) Carcosa (Explicit, 4/4)

ROGUE X GAMBIT (X-MEN) Deuces Wild (1/1) Can't Touch This (PDF, 1/1) Death's Head Hawk Moth (PDF, 1/1) Fifty-Two Yards of White Satin (PDF, 1/1) Hollows (PDF, 1/1) Negev (PDF, 1/1) Sandcastles (PDF, 1/1) This Twilight (PDF, 1/1)

Retired

After Life (Reylo TROS Fix-It) Southern Gothic (Romy NOLA Historical AU, XMW AU) Bats in the Belfry (Romy Vampire AU, XME AU) The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes (Romy, Movieverse) Family Portraits (Romy, XME) The Discard Pile (Romy, XME)

[aftergloom]

Tell that Zabrak he just made my list of things to do today (Part II)

Sequel to Somebody’s Gonna Have a Bad Time, or, second in The Knights of Old Iridonia series: We rejoin the party as Savage walks in on an intimate... tete-a-tete in some crap cantina on Dathomir.

News flash: you’re not so discreet as you think, Reader!

Summary: Remember that little foursome you got yourself involved in the last time you had too much to drink and started wagging your lips? Congratu-karking-lations. Someone caught feelings… and feelings complicate things, don’t they? Rating: Explicit Pairing: Reader x Feral, Reader x Savage Opress, Reader x Maul  CW: public sex, praise kink, daddy kink, pda, canoodling, groping, exhibitionism, biting, oral sex, voyeurism, cockwarming, explicit sexual consent, references to previous interactions, references to anal sex, references to group sex, more later Word Count: Just shy of 12k Notes: No use of Y/N, fem!reader, she/her

Read Ch. 2 below or on Ao3

You don’t even have the time to do-up your pants before the weight of the eldest Opress brother bears down on the table and you hear its joints groan. Something pings, hitting the floor and rolling. A screw.

You pause. You carefully remove your hand from your pants, fumbling for the closure. All good. It’s the sound you make when you pop off Feral’s cock that leaves him jerking in surprise that’s a dead giveaway.

“There are better places for this. Meet me outside,” says Savage.

Busted.

You don’t move though — and that’s the kicker. From where you’re crouched, you can see Feral nod, his throat bobbing. His attention flickers like he wants to look down at you, but stops himself.

Savage raps on the table over your head.

“You too, little one.”

Feral’s gone semi-soft, and you look at his cock with the sort of longing that leaves you unsatisfied and uncomfortable, the heat ever-present but cooling. It’s a further beat before Savage steps back, and turns away. From where you’re sitting, you watch his leisurely stroll from the bar, to the door, and out into the street. Just his legs, though. The rest of him towers so far above the rest of the patrons you have to imagine him ducking through the door.

Slumping a little, Feral’s hand catches yours, brushing a thumb across your knuckles.

He gives you a small smile. A wink.

“I wasn’t finished,” you huff.

And he cracks a half-smile.

Tucking himself away, he says, “Just a brief interlude. Come on.”

He slides sideways off the bench, and helps you out into the open. If anyone’s watching, he doesn’t care about the extra attention as he gives you a once over, brushing a thumb over your cheek and tucking your hand into his.

“Savage probably just wants to watch.”

He squeezes your fingers.

“Feral,” you say, stopping him before he can pull you away and into the night.

You hesitate, because you’re not sure if saying it feels like a betrayal of the agreement between the three males and yourself.

Is it selfish to want time alone with him?

Is it selfish to want to finish what you’ve started?

When you look down at your boots; your dirty knees, you let out a long breath that he catches against his chest when he sidles back into your personal space.

His thighs brush yours, then notch into place as he draws you to him one-handed.

You tip your head up, and he flashes a grin before he presses a kiss to your lips: soft, and lingering, and sweet. He pecks your nose too for good measure, before whispering into your ear, “Don’t worry, I’m still going to wreck your pussy, love.”

You’re too shocked by the vulgarity to even choke a laugh, and he knows it.

And it’s almost sweet — the way he cradles you, rocking you into the warmth and hardness of him — and you chuckle because you can feel his semi pressed against your hip.

Feral raises your fingers to his lips. Kisses the knuckles. His other hand slides from your waist to your ass, cupping the meat of the flesh, and squeezing to spread you apart right there in your slacks like your clothing doesn’t make a kriffing bit of difference. He pats it for good measure.

“And I’ll still let you suck me clean for good measure,” he purrs.

You don’t have the time to sigh, before he flashes that grin, tugging you into motion with a, “Come on.”

The room is spinning, and you don’t think it’s because of the booze.

The gloamingspell that settles over Dathomir’s Night City paints the vendor stalls and shops and tombs the colour of a fresh bruise. So much red stone turns purple beneath the Twins, and with the winking lights of those who live up the mountain, it looks like the whole place glitters.

Your breath catches at it. It’s been so long since you’ve experienced evening after having made planetfall that you forgot how pretty it could be.

The spirit lanterns burn low along the streets, but you still pick out Savage despite the failure of your human eyes to see as perfectly as the Zabrak do in the semi-dark.

His gaze gleams, the bulk of his body still and hulking and as patient as the stone he was born from. Feral holds your hand as the pair of you approach — a good thing since Savage’s neutral expression leaves your nerves bubbling.

He says nothing, but turns, knowing you’ll follow.

Feral’s fingers slide from yours, ghosting down your back as he urges you ahead.

And you follow Savage’s lead —

Not because you’ve thought consciously about moving your feet, but because something in you piques and trembles at the prospect of trouble; of being caught; being reprimanded by those large, punishing hands.

You glance back, finding Feral right behind you. He pats your bum to usher you along, smirking at your hesitation as Savage turns down an unfamiliar alley.

At the end, he ducks beneath an awning, and through a door set into the mountainside.

He’s still holding it open for you when you stumble through, trying to better read his expression but finding nothing forthcoming except for the —

“Oh.”

You take in the recessed tub in the corner. The overly-large bed on the stone dais. The cushions. The tapestries. The low tables heaped with exotic meat dishes and fruit and jugs of wine and cold ale. Couches. Gauzy panels of fabric swaying in the warm breeze. The flicker of lamplight. Even the coverings over the floor — plush. Comfortable. Lavish, even.

Savage, at your side, follows your gaze, “This is better than a dirty tavern floor, is it not?”

You don’t answer. You’re… actually you’re a little choked up, so you stare at him a beat longer with your burning eyes and your clenched fists, and when Savage pulls back to stare down at you, trying to puzzle out why it seems like you’re about to burst into tears, it’s Feral who leans in to become your saving grace:

“Take off your clothes if you agree,” he whispers.

You’re already tugging off your top before he can shut the door.

Savage’s expression softens as you sniff, staring him down as you step on the heels of your boots, kicking them away. Your belt follows. Then your pants.

His gaze never leaves yours as you move to strip off your breast band, but it’s Feral who steps in before you can get out of your panties, his hands slipping over your hips as he cradles you from behind.

You choke down the lump in your throat, still staring at his elder brother — daring him to say something.

His gaze trails down your body, stopping briefly at your simple underwear. Feral’s hooked his thumbs into the waistband, flicking little caresses back and forth that make your stomach clench and shiver.

It’s too nice — this room. This place.

But you don’t dare make a sound to say so.

“If you like the room, you can show him,” Feral encourages.

When your lower lip quivers, it’s Savage who reaches for you at last, thumbing your lower lip into stillness. Those large fingers slip around the back of your neck, tipping your face up to his.

“You’re sad.”

You shake your head.

“Happy?”

Your eyes burn.

“I don’t deserve this,” you manage.

Savage softens, and leaning in as Feral releases you to him, he smiles before he presses a kiss to your forehead. “You deserve so much more, but this is the best Dathomir has to offer.”

He pulls back, and your hands loop over his wrists. “For your comfort, and ours: something special, for an evening. A night. Yes?”

You nod, but Savage looks uncertain.

“Then why do you frown, little one?”

You step in a little closer, and those large hands fall to your shoulders. You don’t tell him that no one’s ever done something so sweet for you before, but you do snake your arms around his waist. You can barely touch your fingers together around the other side of him, but it doesn’t matter because Savage places his heavy hands on you with careful tenderness, just letting you hug him.

“Thank you,” you manage, and when he cups the back of your head, you feel him chuckle, and then he relaxes.

“I’m sorry I interrupted you at the cantina.”

That, at least, earns a snort.

“Forgive me?”

You poke him in the side, although it does pretty much nothing.

“Apologize to Feral,” you mutter. “It was his blow job.”

Savage chuckles, and pulling back, he lifts you like you weigh nothing at all to carry you across the room to Feral, already sprawled on the bed. When Savage sets you to your feet before him, conscious suddenly of your nudity against his armour and Feral’s half-smile and roving gaze, you feel the shift in the air around you as suddenly as it thickens.

Savage’s fingertips trail down your arms, raising goosebumps on your skin. Your nipples pebble as those large hands slip to your ribs.

“There is only one rule in this place,” Savage rumbles.

The glow in Feral’s gaze turns him impish. He pops a small, round fruit into his mouth, appreciating the sudden caution in your expression. He’s already ditched his shirt, and the flash of lean muscle leaves you momentarily distracted.

Savage’s touch trails southward, catching the scrap of fabric that covers you and wrapping the sides with his thumbs.

“No clothing.”

When he pushes them down, you feel a little of the breeze against your sex. It’s a fluid motion, and smooth as silk, so when Savage takes your hands and helps you onto the bed with his brother, he’s already parted your legs to position you on your knees. A touch nudges you between the shoulder blades, coaxing you to all fours. It drags down you spine, and you shut your eyes against the shiver it inspires.

The warm fingers that grasp your thigh, spreading you open further, is so large that for a second you forget what it was like being with him. Just a fingertip grazing your arousal isn’t enough, and you arch at the surprise contact. And peering over your shoulder at him, Savage appears momentarily transfixed by the sight of you.

His gaze flicks to yours, gleaming and hungry.

“In time, little one,” he promises, and nods to his brother. “You have unfinished business, I think.”

Breathing hard, you look to Feral, who only licks his lips and gets comfortable for the show, easing you down to your elbows so that your ass is in the air, your elbows on either side of Feral’s knees as he undoes the trouble of his trousers again.

“Go on,” he says, a little breathless, and you help him pull them down and off.

Behind you, the clunk of plate armour striking the floor makes dull thuds against the carpeting.

“I want to see your beautiful eyes,” Feral says, “when you’ve got my cock in your mouth. Please, love. Would you do that for me?”

You nod, and something darkens in his expression.

“Say, ‘Yes, Feral.’”

Every iota of your body winds a little tighter at the command. Your voice comes out shivery with anticipation when you manage it.

“Yes, Feral.”

He lifts up, and you with him as Feral kisses you, pulling you into his embrace, his hands in your hair, your spine arching with it as he tastes you again like it was the first time.

“Is that okay? Can I talk to you like that?” He nips your lower lip.

“Feral.” Your laugh is breathy. “Yes, Feral.” And exasperated, “Fuck.” You both grin.

“Good,” he sighs, guiding you back down. “Put my cock in your mouth, then. Show daddy Feral how much you like it.”

The snap and recoil of those two words shifts your reality a bit, and destabilized, you darken as you hold his gaze. The heat of it strikes in the right way, though unexpected.

Daddy Feral.

It shouldn’t make your blood sing the way it does, but where Maul is uncompromising in his dominant play, Feral shows a softer sort of assertion. You also realize that he’s been paying close attention to what turns you on — closer, perhaps, than you’d realized.

“You like that, don’t you?” he presses.

Yes. Yes, you do.

“Show me, love,” he says, softer, caressing your face and thumbing your lower lip open. He slides his thumb between your lips, letting you wrap your mouth around the digit briefly.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as you suck on it a little.

Feral’s nodding as he withdraws, leaving you breathing heavily, your lips parted.

“Go on,” he encourages.

And determined, now — incensed by the challenge, really — you open your mouth around the head of his cock and sink down on it with a groan.

The strangled noise and the twitch of his thighs is almost worth the control you wrangle over your gag reflex as you swallow and roll your hips up to give him a better view of your ass.

Feral groans, and you do your best not to smile. You don’t want to graze him with your teeth.

Savage is perfectly silent, you realize.

Arched as you are, your feet sticking off the end of the bed, you know you’re giving him a perfect view of your cunt and your ass and your tits —

What you don’t realize is how close he is, nor that he’s been waiting for you to get settled.

The press of a digit into the crease of your backside, already slicked with lube, leaves you seizing up in surprise — more, when two fingers sink into your pussy without preamble.

You gasp at the contact; at the tension and stretch of your tender, wet flesh at the intrusion, but you clench and gasp around Feral’s cock, and Savage doesn’t relent.

He slips out, and presses deeper, thumbing your asshole and adding pressure there too.

Feral’s fingers card into your hair.

“Look at me, love,” he says. “We’re going to fill you up. Do you know why?”

You swallow around him, taking him deeper, and he grins at your enthusiasm.

It’s Savage who responds as the thrust of his fingers light a white hot path through your body to your brain. Rubbing a little circle around your asshole, his thumb breaches your last resistance, and you stop writhing for one blissful moment as you sigh into the feeling of being almost overly full.

Savage rumbles, “Because good girls go to bed with their pussies full of cum.”

There’s a moment of suspended surprise where the silence descends and all you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears —

And then it begins:

And you clench, and you clench again, and something inside you shivers at the dangerous edge of succumbing to the slick thrust of his fingers as Savage uses his hand to thrust your mouth onto Feral’s cock; moving your whole body with the power of his grip.

Feral’s cock hits the back of your throat, and you reign in the spasm before it can become a gag. You close it off as Feral raises his hips, fucking your mouth in shallow thrusts.

“Good,” he groans, pushing back your hair for you. “Oh you’re so good, love.”

You want to hear him say it.

You want to hear those exact words that you need from his mouth as you watch Feral start to lose himself to the heat and suction of your lips. You want to know that you would do anything to make him feel good. You’d take whatever he gave you. You like it.

The ridges of his cock rake over your lips, your tongue sluicing spit so that it gets easier with each thrust. It’s messy, and your chin is wet, but the look on his face —

Savage shifts, his knuckle angling differently to catch you unawares, and Feral seizes, pumping once — twice into your mouth with a choked noise of surprise. Savage slaps your clit with his free hand, and something snaps inside you.

You barely hear Savage’s deep chuckle of satisfaction as you break on him, moaning as Feral pumps a jet of cum into the back of your throat. He thrusts again, mouth opened, gaze lidded in ecstasy, but you’re too busy creaming all over Savage’s fingers to stop yourself from gulping.

“Oh, ff —“ Feral manages, half-laughing. “Oh, she’s swallowing. Oh, my fuck —“

You can’t shout, but you whimper, and knock back another mouthful in the aftershock like it was a shot.

Feral slows. “Sweetheart,” he says, out of breath. “You lovely thing. You good girl.”

And this time, you do scream your release as he falls from your mouth, leaving you bucking reckless and untethered against Savage’s ministrations; at the perfect bit of praise to send you over the edge again.

You just wanted to be Feral’s good girl.

Savage rolls a circle around your clit, dragging out the sensation, but you’re a mess:

Facedown on the sheets, fists wrapped into the blanket, your cheek smashed into Feral’s thigh, making a sound so unintelligible that Feral actually laughs in surprise.

Kark.

Kark it’s so good.

“That’s right, little one,” Savage murmurs, pulling from your ass, gently letting you ride out the end of it on the two fingers he leaves inside you. “That’s it.”

You whimper, making some unintelligible noise of weakened acquiescence, and Feral gathers you to him with both strong arms, pulling you up the bed to settle you close.

He kisses your forehead; your eyelids; your cheeks, murmuring sweet things and pet names and caressing your shoulder and back and thigh — the parts of you he can touch while he’s folded you into the warmth of his chest.

He kisses your neck and you mewl for him, supple under his ministrations and still breathing hard.

“Lie back,” he murmurs, kissing your mouth. “Put your arms over your head, love. Let’s clean you up.”

You manage a confused, “Murr?” that earns a chuckle from Savage, who mutters something about using the tub to freshen up a bit. Feral, meanwhile, has eased you backwards onto the pillows, climbing over you so that the weight of him sinks you deeper into the bed.

He hums at the contact, bracketing your head with his biceps as he settles against you, nudging your chin up with his nose.

“I’ll be careful of the horns, but don’t squeeze your thighs together, okay?” He kisses your throat, and you shiver, back arching your breasts into his chest. “Just in case,” he whispers into your ear, and warm and pliant underneath his weight, you puddle.

He’s hitching your knee over his hip, and you can feel his cock brush your over-sensitized body as he starts leaving open-mouthed kisses down your chest, and you karking stop breathing when you realize that the path he’s working southward with his mouth is going to put his face between your thighs.

“Feral,” you whine, your hands fumbling at his shoulders, and that’s when he oh-so-gently takes both your wrists in one hand, and presses them overhead into the pillows.

He holds you there. It doesn’t hurt, but it does alert you to your heaving chest, your achey breasts, and how small you feel underneath him; how much you want him to touch you.

Looking down at you, skin glistening in the dim, his eyes shine with a new and fierce sort of affection. He’s always been the pretty one of the three Opress boys, but here — like this — he’s radiant. It gets borderline ridiculous when he smiles.

“What?” he laughs. “Don’t you want me to —” He looks down. “Kiss it better?”

You shiver because that’s the same line he used on you last night.

“Tease,” you taunt him.

“Never,” he says against your mouth, and then he’s kissing you again, half-hard against your inner thigh already, rocking his hips into yours. “I’m going to give you exactly what you need, little girl,” he promises. “And you can have it any time you like forever more. All you have to do —“

He licks a line up your throat, and you gasp as he pushes your legs apart, tacking your knee to the bed as he falls away.

“— Is say, ‘please.’”

You don’t get the chance.

When Feral starts eating you out, he half lifts you off the bed. He brushes his nose through your folds and follows it with his tongue. Deep. Devouring. And he uses his whole. Karking. Mouth. To lap at your juices, smearing them down his chin like he wants to bathe in you, and you —

Shocked. Rigid. Breathless. Register Savage seated on the edge of the pool across the room, a towel across his lap and a drink in his hand, watching you frozen on the bed with a hunger in his gaze you thought was only reserved for Maul on maybe his more intense days.

Feral presses a thumb into you, opening you to him so when he spreads your lips apart to suckle on your clit he’s already rubbing you to dripping again.

He takes the bud of your sex between his lips and sucks it; soothing it with his tongue in-between punishing it; burying his face into you with a groan -- and you just roll your hips with every thrust as he loses himself inside you.

The gasp you manage is maybe the only sound you’ve made since he started, and stars blot your vision.

“Breathe, little one,” Savage says. “Feral, you’re going to make her pass out.”

And would that be so bad, you wonder?

You grope at yourself, squeezing your breasts as Feral wraps your legs around his shoulders, riding you higher up the bed as he rises with you, still latched onto your labial hood and sucking it like he might pull your soul out from your cunt.

“Ah!” You manage, and he pulls off you, soaked to the throat and licking your juices off his chin.

He doesn’t leave you empty. He doesn’t leave you wanting though you whimper when his thumb takes the place of his tongue against your clit to add another notch of tension, and then he eases inside you with two curled fingers.

There’s pressure in a new spot, but it’s brief, and then it’s everything as Feral leans over you, your legs falling to either side of his hips, semi-slung over his thighs as he starts fucking you with his hand.

Hard.

A relentless and consistent hammer of his fingertips against the same spot inside you that crests and takes you with it as if propelled on a rising tide.

Your eyes flutter open, catching his half smile as he leans in and asks so sweetly, “Have you ever squirted, love?”

Your vision whites out, and the orgasm doesn’t rip through you so much as it tips you outside yourself and roars at the same unyielding, blinding cadence that doesn’t cease and doesn’t relent and doesn’t recede for what feels like minutes. And Feral — fuck — Feral stops moving and just presses into that same spot inside you, holding you suspended in a moment of such bliss that the room gets swallowed in dancing stars and the fuzzy drone of consciousness winking out.

And then there’s only the hum in your ears.

And Feral between your legs, nursing your throbbing, swollen cunt with gentle, warm laps of his tongue. Indulgent.

He smiles up at you as you gasp your way back into consciousness.

“There she is.”

He kisses your thigh.

He kisses the short patch of your pubic hair, and you twitch, and moan.

And he’s so fucking smug and satisfied, you sink into his lazy licking, soothed.

Throbbing with the aftershocks.

Stars.

“I passed out,” you manage.

He kisses your belly.

“You made a beautiful mess.”

His thighs are painted with your release. The sheets are soaked beneath his knees.

“You came so hard, you sweet thing.” He nuzzles your sex. “And you taste so good. Why didn’t you tell me you taste so good before? I could do this —” He presses a kiss to your mons, sighing. “— All fucking night.”

“Feral,” you whimper, reaching for him as he climbs up beside you.

“Did you like it?”

When you press into his body, he pays no mind for the mess, contented only to see you sated and spent.

You sigh, giving into his tender petting and hard planes.

“I loved it,” you say, because even soft and spent and sticky in his arms, some part of you knows that he’s proud of the mess he’s made of you.

The perfume of your release clings to him, but it’s okay: he looks at you with such warmth that you almost don’t process the weight of his cock bobbing against your thigh.

“Would you like some more?” he asks, brushing tendrils of sweat-stuck hair from your face. He looks at your mouth like he wants to kiss you, but you sneak into the gap first, brushing noses and trying not to smile and ruin it. He tastes like you, but when his tongue touches yours with gentle hesitation, you can’t help but melt into his warmth.

So good.

It’s so, so good.

And it’s better when Feral pulls you closer to deepen the kiss, his cock bobbing against the inner skin of your thigh. You can’t help it. You suck in a little breath.

“Such a good girl,” he says against your smile. “Making me hard for you already.”

Across the room, Savage clears his throat.

Feral hesitates, and whispers to you, “You’ve done quite a number on my brother too.”

Oh, Savage, you think.

“It’s alright, little one,” he says when he hears the distress in your voice, calling for him. “The Force is with me, and I am patient tonight.”

Feral’s smirk turns conspiratorial as he plays at being innocent. “While you were out, we decided on a little competition.”

Oh?

The back of his fingers stroke down your side, slipping around to cup your ass. He eases himself against you, rubbing his cock through your juices, brushing your clit with the tip as he rocks against your folds, getting it wet.

Your breathing hitches, and peeking down you watch how it starts to glisten with each roll of his hips.

“What are you competing for?” you ask, but some part of you already knows the answer.

It’s why Savage is being so patient.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Feral smiles as he leans in to kiss you again, palming your breast to roll a nipple between his finger and thumb. “We want to know which one of us can make you come the most.” He shrugs. “The fastest.” He glances at his brother. “The hardest.” Looking back to you, he winks. “So far, I think I’m winning.”

They’re taking turns tonight.

He’s still letting you taste yourself on his mouth when he eases you back again, gathering your legs around his waist.

“Tell me what you want me to do, love,” he whispers. “Tell daddy Feral what he likes to hear from that sweet mouth yours.”

Stars help you, but you want it. You’re not spent, just cock dumb. You whimper, fumbling for him as he rubs the tip against your folds, sliding the hard heat of himself through your arousal.

“Do you want my cock?”

He presses the tip to your clit, rubbing you with it.

You nod, managing a, “Y-yes.”

“Do you want me to fuck you with it?”

The breath you hiccup is almost embarrassing.

“Yes, I want —“

He presses the tip forward, and you seize up. He pulls back.

“Tell me what you want, love. Tell me you want to come on my cock.”

“Feral —” You gasp. Whatever you’ve got left in you rouses to attention, your thighs quivering for holding themselves around his waist like you are. Unwilling to let go in case he pulls away.

“I’ll tell you what I want,” he murmurs, his gaze gilded and drowsy in the lantern light. “I want to do everything I promise to you,” he says. “I want your body wrapped around mine when I ruin this fucking pussy.” He breathes, “It’s mine tonight. It’s mine right now. It’s mine tomorrow and the day after that.” He pushes your hair back. “I want you to tell me —” He licks his lips, “— How badly you want me to fuck you with it. How bad do you want to come on this —“ He eases forward, and you cry out at the brief glide of him before he pulls back.

“Feral, please, I —“

“Say it, little girl.”

“Fuck, I —“

“Say it.”

“I want to come on your cock.”

He breathes a laugh. “I don’t believe you.”

“I want to come on your fucking cock, Feral!”

He whispers, “Why, sweet? Why, my love?”

“Because —“

He brushes into your folds, hovering there.

“Why.”

“Because it’s your pussy,” you gasp.

“Try again.” He pulls back. “What are you, love?”

You heave a desperate breath.

You give in, because —

“Because I’m your little whore,” you wail. “I’m the Opress brothers’ little slut.”

“No, love,” he kisses you as he gives you every inch of what you need most with one easy, long thrust, filling you to the brim and seating himself there. He thrusts once, and your head rolls back. “You’re my good little girl,” Feral says.

He’s holding you carefully when he starts to fuck you, only it’s not hard and sharp. He’s slow and long and steady, and each movement is a delicious ache and roll of his hips. He’s firm, but tender, and he clasps the back of your neck to demonstrate that he’s still in control.

Zabrak males, you think —

They’re all about the big show.

“What are you going to do, love?”

You half-laugh, completely wrecked, everything twisted up into coils of need and desire and wanting more but not knowing how much you’ve got left to give.

“I’m going to come on your cock.”

“You’re going to come on Daddy Feral’s cock,” he whispers in correction.

“I’m going to come on your cock, daddy Feral,” you reply weakly.

“Yes, you are, love.”

And when Feral flips you up into his embrace, you take every inch of him as he kneels with you in his lap. Every wet, hot thrust that ripples through you and leaves you with your eyes squeezed shut, undone already and just waiting for one more moment to be broken apart so he might put you back together.

He helps you ride him, anchoring you at the waist so that when each thrust begins brushing your clit, he can better watch your face to see your eyes roll back a bit.

“Look at me,” he murmurs.

Your arms are around his shoulders.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he whispers. “You can let go.”

“Feral,” you sigh, rocking your hips into his.

“Tell me what you need.”

Like it’s a secret, you whisper in his ear so softly you think that his hesitation means he didn’t hear you.

But he slows, and stares, and licks his lips before pulling you closer.

“You liked it that much?”

You kiss him in response.

When you pull back, he looks at you with the sort of uncommon wonder that gleams in the dim. He softens, of course, especially when he pulls you to him and murmurs into your kiss, “Okay.”

And that melts you a little because he touches it. He doesn’t press. He doesn’t penetrate. He only sets his fingers on your ass like he was keeping it warm, and to even that you tighten, clenching on him as he drives you higher.

“I like it when you catch your breath like that,” he smiles.

You didn’t even know you made a sound.

A little bolder, you whisper back, “I like it when you play with me.”

He rubs it a little, adding just a hint of pressure to make you tighten around him as his thrusts pick up the pace. You squirm, because he’s toying with you, and it’s a little dirty but so is Feral, and you’re puddling on his crotch so you suppose you’re just a little dirty too.

“Touch yourself for me.” His eyes are so bright in the dim, and when his attention flicks down to watch you play with yourself, you nearly lose control over the whole thing because he growls and leans forward to clamp your shoulder in his teeth in a warning bite.

The feeling rocks through you, bottoming out as you grip him, frozen by the shivery too-full sensations of it all as the wet slap of your joining turns lurid and messy and —

He puts his mouth on your neck, and that’s where danger threads through things. This is a possessive move — one made for lovers and not friends; a gesture that would invite challenge from other males, especially one particular male who just happens to be related to Feral.

Feral’s teeth sit on your skin, but you’re coming for him, wringing out his own release before he can consummate the act of possessing you fully.

He controls every thrust and slip, holding onto you, pushing you harder so that one orgasm crashes into two and you think you’re going to pass out again.

You don’t, but you have to blink away stars as he slows, panting into your throat, your laboured breaths mingling between you. Shared smiles between little puffs of breath.

When Feral squeezes your body, squeezing his eyes shut, you can feel him flinch in the aftershocks.

“Karking tight,” he manages, but it’s strained.

Breathing hard, he pulls back from you to give you a dazed and dazzling smile. It freezes on his face almost as quickly, fading along with some of the colour from Feral’s face.

From the feeling alone, you know —

It feels cold, suddenly. The temperature dropping by degrees until the frisson of the Dark Side slinks through the palatial bedroom; a creeping shadow that draws up the hair on the back of your neck and the gooseflesh on your skin.

From the door comes a rumble of discontent that you’re all too familiar with. It’s laced with amusement absent any humour:

Maul murmurs, “That was close.”

Read Ch. 3 >