#maul x reader

[maulsdear]

he's sooo kissable here like just give me ONE chance...........

[maulsearpiercing]

i imagine zabrak males go through a kind of “teething” phase when their horns start erupting. the older nightbrothers will massage their heads to help ease the pain, and sometimes the babies will nuzzle for the pressure

so what im saying is: maul melts when you massage around his horns and he has a nuzzle instinct. do with that what you will

[sproutwrites]

I know this is different from the usual stuff I post. But I would like to open this up to SOME Star Wars stuff too. It’ll still primarily be a Transformer blog for now! But I am really in a Maul mood recently and just felt the need to write something for him! | Not Proofread

Tranquility

Maul x Reader

The Maul show was SO GOOD!! This won’t have any spoilers for the show! I just felt inspired to finally write something from Star Wars after rewatching it again today.

——

Your head is resting on a red and black chest, an arm was wrapped around your waist keeping you against the Zabrak in front of you. You could hear his double heartbeat under your ear which you must admit is quite soothing, if not for your constant worry to not move a muscle.

It is exceedingly rare to have these softer moments with Maul. He isn’t exactly the epitome of soft and gentle, he’s very quick to anger and moments of needing to be alone. Right now you felt like when you were a kid and you tried to act like you were invisible to be able to stay awake past your bedtime, hoping your parents forgot you were there. Instead, you don’t want to move and wake up Maul. Besides, he barely slept as is, haunted by thoughts he refused to share with you. This was one of the rare times he actually let you stay and sleep alongside him, and the even rarer time that you woke up before him.

You had absentmindedly been tracing some of his tattoos on his chest with an exceptionally light touch, nothing that would have woken him up. You doubted he was ticklish… Your legs were falling asleep from how you’ve been in the same position but you don’t dare move. However, one thing did catch you off guard. The Zabrak under you started purring. You didn’t even know they could do that, least of all him. ‘I need to look into Zabrak biology more…’ you thought to yourself.

When he shifted a little you froze again, your finger stopped its tracing on his chest. Going back to your frozen state. ‘Don’t move, don’t move. He looks so peaceful right now-‘ you thought, amongst a storm of other stuff quickly running through your head. You had nothing else to do right now so you just vocalized a lot of stuff in your head to keep you entertained.

“Quiet your mind…” he mumbled, his eyes were still closed and you didn’t even realize he had woken up. His words had no real bite behind them. All the thoughts that had been running though your mind suddenly dissipated. “Sorry.” You admit sheepishly, you really didn’t mean to wake him up.

The room fell back into silence, and you went back to tracing his tattoos. It was a weirdly soothing act for you and he wasn’t really making any moves to stop you. His arm did tighten around your waist a little bit which made you bite back a smile. Leaning back a little bit you looked up at him. His eyes were half lidded, his yellow eyes didn’t hold that usual anger or frustration in them. Instead, you could still see the exhaustion beneath them, the same exhaustion he always tried to hide under his severity.

“What?” He caught you staring. Granted, you weren’t exactly being the most sneaky person about it. Just openly admiring and examining his face. “Nothing.” You responded and he just hummed. His hand slid from your waist up to the back of your head where he gently pushed your head back down onto his chest. Nobody else would believe this version of him existed if you told anyone. You never would, that would be a huge breach of his trust, and he already didn’t give out his trust very often.

You kept yourself relatively still, you were content listening to his two hearts and the sound of his breathing. After several minutes of laying there you decide to take a chance. “You should get some more sleep…” You whispered.

“I am aware.”

“You haven’t slept good in two days.” Silence followed that, and you were afraid you overstepped. You opened your mouth to apologize when he sighed. “It’s… difficult.” He said quietly.

You were aware what was implied when he said that. Nightmares, memories, rage that never seemed to truly quiet. You would never push for information from him, you’ve learned that mistake. You shifted slightly in his arms until you could see into his eyes while still laying down. For a moment you were worried he would pull away. That the vulnerability of this moment would become too much and he would retreat behind coldness again like he usually does.

Instead, he just watched you silently. You hesitated for a moment, you really didn’t want to ruin this moment with a stupid movement… You reached up slowly, slow enough to gauge his reaction if he was going to growl or pull away from you like you’ve known him to do before. When he didn’t seem to do any of that you brush your fingers along his cheek and up to the base of one of the horns on his head. You remain almost featherlight in your touches, as if too hard of one would remind him of his anger and he would leave. It’s a very fine line you have to walk with him.

Maul exhales softly through his nose, it wasn’t one of annoyance. You’ve heard that one countless times. This was tiredness. “You indulge in dangerous habits.” He says, his eyes haven’t left yours even while you do your own thing.

“Touching you?” You ask, bringing your hand back down to cup his cheek gently. He ever so slightly leaned into your hand, it was almost a blink and you’ll miss it type deal.

“Caring for me.” That caught you off guard. The honesty in his voice wasn’t what you were expecting. You were expecting him to say anything other than that. He hardly shows any emotions that aren’t anger or frustration. He’s calm sometimes, but it always has an unsteady feeling, like a ticking time bomb. So for him to say something vulnerable like this was basically uncharted territory for you.

There was a long moment of silence, where he then shifted you around in his arms and moved your head to his neck so he could rest his chin on top of your head. It’s awkward at first, and takes you some maneuvering to get yourself comfortable. But it didn’t feel forced, this was him being more affectionate in his own exceptionally strange way.

The room fell quiet again after he moved you. His knuckles running along your spine absentmindedly, you presume he probably didn’t realize what he was doing. He was still fairly stiff, as if he was prepared for violence to break out. You doubt anything could get that part of him to quiet down. You reached over to grab his hand that was resting on his chest, and surprisingly he went with it. You bring his hand to your mouth and place a kiss on it, immediately that purring sound from earlier began again. You wanted to laugh at it, but didn’t want to draw attention to it and him get embarrassed and stop. So instead you released his hand and curled back up against him.

He might be a difficult man… but from the small pieces of his past he has allowed you to hear, you can understand why. That is precisely why you’re going to try to break his cycle of terrible people in his life. You would never take advantage of the trust, however small and fragile, he has bestowed upon you.

——

It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything Star Wars, and the last time was a terrible fanfic on Quotev back in the day 💀 SOOOO I hope this was alright!! I promise I’ll be working on more Transformer stuff soon!! I just wanted to write this while the inspiration was there! :D

[calledannabella]

added some random piercings

[dustysalmon]

Maul x Reader - Fix Me Up

Part 2 (finale)

Rating: E Warning/Tags: smut; graphic depiction of violence; angst; hurt/comfort; touch-starved Word count: 4.3k

Summary: Maul is forced to confront the painful memories of his past, and you get hurt in the process. Left vulnerable and struggling with guilt and fear after the incident, he becomes convinced that he has lost your trust. You prove him otherwise.

Read on ao3 ⎜ Part 1

Brother, I’m an unworthy apprentice.

Normally, Savage’s voice came to him as a source of comfort. There was a familiarity to it, something that pulled him back from the isolation he had endured since his upbringing under Sidious. It stirred a longing for a place he hadn’t had the time to get fully acquainted with. Home, with his brothers. Life on Dathomir would have been perilous—it may not have been a life at all, he suspected—but in his head, every other scenario seemed gentler than the torments he had been subjected to for years on end.

I’m not like you. I never was. 

Grounded, that was how his kin’s voice made him feel, a reminder of what was but mostly what might’ve been. But not this time. This time, it rang like the prelude to a very somber memory. Maul sensed the vision his mind’s eye was about to conjure before it fully materialised. An inevitable tragedy, one he had seen unfold many times before. First on Mandalore, and then regularly in his slumber, like a perpetual haunting.

Savage lay in his arms, the yellow in his eyes fading into a warm ocean green. He looked like a boy, the brother Maul thought he remembered from his past. Yet the recollection was so distant that he wondered if he may have fabricated it entirely. 

Behind him rose a wretched and sickening sound: the cruel laugh of his master. Taunting and mocking him as he had so many times throughout his training. That voice, sinister and venomous, reminded him just how unworthy he was, how feeble, in body and mind. 

Remember, the first and only reality of the Sith: there can only be two. And you are no longer my apprentice. You have been replaced

That was the final humiliation. The last deliberate step by which Sidious stripped away what remained of his humanity. He was not even good enough to serve as a tool, cast aside without a second thought. But it was not simply dismissal. The monster wanted him dead. Maul had forgotten his station and overplayed his hand. Even from the shadows, his master had sensed the betrayal, the challenge implicit in Maul’s relentless pursuit of vengeance against all those who had wronged him. What a mistake it had been to try and fool a master of deceit. He would pay a hefty price for it. 

It didn’t matter how many times it had happened; each strike of his master’s lightning hurt as much as the first. Begging only made it worse. It didn’t matter what he would beg for, mercy or death, there was no difference. Of all things, Sidious despised weakness above all else, and he answered it with punishments born of such cruelty and malice that they defied comprehension. For the moment, however, Maul’s tormenter satisfied himself with basic discipline.

Have mercy. Please. Please!

After years of excruciating training, Maul had become a very powerful being. There were few things he feared, and even fewer people. But when it came to his master, none of it mattered. In those moments, he was the child he had once been on his home planet: scared, innocent and helpless. The only difference between then and now was that he did not cry anymore. He knew what happened when he cried. There was only one man who got to see him at his most vulnerable—broken, on his knees, stripped of all pretence of strength. Only one man who could instil such dread within him. But one was enough, and unfortunately for Maul, Sidious very much enjoyed it.

There is no mercy.

On the modest couch of your apartment, Maul felt the electric current course through his body ceaselessly, frying him from the inside. He felt every single burn vividly, as if the events were unfolding in real time. He was still deeply asleep, but his body reacted to the imagined assault. He wanted out. His head thrashed violently from side to side as if to shake himself awake. All the while, Sidious’s incessant cackling went on.

Living alone had many perks—namely, the ability to notice when something was off. Whether it be a suspicious sound or a misplaced object. In this case, though, you suspected that even the most oblivious person in the galaxy would have noticed. 

You nearly fell off your mattress as the first scream tore through the night. Without even bothering to turn the lights on you rolled out of bed, bare feet hitting the floor as you rushed to the living room in long strides. The large windows bathed the space in the neon glow of the commercial panels outside, casting enough light for you to see clearly.

What you saw was a man in agony. His body spasmed as if possessed, hands clawing at nothing, and his horns had pierced through the blanket you had given him earlier. You had seen nightmares before, occasionally experienced them yourself, but this was sheer terror, unlike anything you’d see before. Maul seemed to be speaking to someone, pleading or begging, but you didn’t sit around to find out. After barely dodging one of his flailing arms, you gripped his shoulders with steady hands and started shaking him hard. 

Sweat poured out of him, his teeth bared as he kept screaming. You had suspected the man carried demons—whether he was running from them or chasing them—but you had never imagined it was that bad. In addition to your vigorous movements, you started calling out his name, although you were unsure if he would actually hear you over the sound of his own voice. It took several attempts before your efforts finally paid off . 

Maul jolted awake, but before you could even catch your breath or ask him if he was okay, his hand shot out, seizing you with force. His fingers dug painfully in your collarbone, and a pained grunt escaped you, suddenly aware of just how brutally strong he was. His eyes were glowing in the darkness, piercing through you like daggers. However, it was not anger that filled them. Only fear. Whatever he had faced in his nightmare had left its mark, and Maul had not completely snapped out of it.

You wrapped both hands around his wrist and tried to pry him off. To no avail. Even half-awake, he was much stronger than you.

"Maul," you managed, your voice strained with pain. It didn’t reach him. His gaze was fixed on you without really seeing, as if in a trance.

"Maul," you tried again, more urgently. "You have to let go." Panic began to rise in your chest. If he didn’t release his grip soon, you feared he might just snap your clavicle. 

Then, something shifted.

His eyes flickered, as if he finally registered what was happening and where he was. The fear dissipated from his eyes, slowly replaced by recognition. He released you immediately. You stumbled back, clutching your collarbone where his fingers had been only moments ago. Maul instinctively went to reach for you, then seemed to think better of it. His hand hovered awkwardly in the air for a brief moment before curling back into a fist at his side. He doubted you wanted him anywhere near you after what just happened. 

"I’m sorry," he said quietly, a hint of shame in his voice. "I didn’t mean to." 

You were still catching your breath, a little under shock, the ache in your shoulder throbbing when you pressed against it. 

"Are you alright?" he asked with genuine concern. You nodded, and the movement made you wince. 

"I’ll be fine." It wasn’t a lie. Actually, now that you were free from his grasp, you found yourself more worried about him. "You okay?" 

Maul hesitated, then gave a short nod. Evasive, as always. You didn’t press for now, it would be a slow process for him to open up, if he ever did. 

He looked around the room. Most of the pillows had been knocked down, and the cover was ruined, torn and ripped. He grabbed it and looked at you apologetically. 

"I—"

"It’s fine, it’s just a blanket," you said honestly. "At least the couch survived." You offered a small smile to ease the palpable tension and keep him from dwelling on what he had just done. The nightmares clearly weren’t new to him. Despite how disoriented he had been upon waking, he had regained control rather quickly, all things considered. What he was troubled about was what came after, how he had hurt you. It was so easy for him to inflict pain on people, he was very gifted at that. He may even enjoy it under the right circumstances. Sometimes he wondered if he was capable of anything else. Sidious had nurtured the hatred inside him, but the violence… it might have always been there in the first place.

At this very moment, hurting was the last thing on his mind. He wanted to help you the way you so often did for him, to soothe the ache he had caused. To touch you gently, instead of violently, if you would even allow it now. The thought of frightening you bothered him deeply, especially after the trust you had slowly built between one another. He had hurt you, and even if you had waved it off, it would very much stick with him. 

The most frustrating part, though, was that despite all his powers, there was nothing he could physically do to for you right now. Of all the abilities the dark side had granted him, healing was not one of them. Ironically, he almost envied the Jedi for that. Almost.

You saw the cogs turning in his mind, he was angry with himself, that much was obvious, and there was probably very little you could say right now to make him feel better. It was wiser to give him a minute to collect himself. Besides, you needed to tend to yourself anyways.

"Don’t worry about the blanket, really. I’ll… I’ll be back." You cast one last glance at him before making your way to the bathroom. Maul remained where he was, silent and brooding, but you missed the way the hand that instinctively reached for you flexed uselessly at his side, as though mourning the feel of you there.

You let out a long breath as you leaned over the sink. Life certainly was never dull with Maul around. Without preamble you pulled your nightshirt over your head and examined your reflection in the mirror. A sizeable crimson bruise had already begun to form across your skin. You grimaced and grabbed a flask of bacta gel from the shelf. It came in handy when you injured yourself at work, which happened more often than was probably reasonable, judging by the half-empty container. You spread it thoroughly over the bruise and the tender skin around. It wouldn’t erase the mark entirely but at least it would dull the pain. 

As the gel began to take effect, you thought back on the events of the night—to the fear, the confusion, the look in Maul’s eyes when he hadn’t recognised you. There was no point sugarcoating it. For a moment, you had feared for your safety. But fear was not the feeling that had prevailed. It was concern. If anything, you wished to know how he felt. Something terrible must have happened to provoke such a violent reaction from him. If only he could help you better understand what troubled him so much that it followed him into his nightmares. You didn’t even need the details, just a little insight would do. 

The sound of Maul’s durasteel legs echoed in the corridor, growing closer and closer. He stopped somewhere behind you. You didn’t bother covering yourself, didn’t feel the need to. Instead, you looked up in mirror and found him standing in the doorway, head lightly tilted as he observed you in silence. He wasn’t staring in the crude sense, nor did he seem embarrassed by your state of undress. His eyes roamed the expanse of your back and shoulders, as if searching for additional damage he might have caused. 

Maul had always had a very practical approach towards you, which is why this situation didn’t strike him as odd. You had seen him shirtless countless times before while patching him up. Now the role were simply reversed. Still, you found that you liked being watched by him, even if his attention stemmed from curiosity rather than want. There was something strangely intimate about it.

He looked different when survival wasn’t hanging over him. Whenever you had cared for his injuries in the past, he had always maintained a stoic facade. Even when the pain broke through, he worked his hardest to appear completely unmoved. Now the harsh lines of his face had softened. You had no idea how old he was, but he certainly looked younger like this. And his golden eyes, which had looked so menacing earlier, were now so kind and caring. And they were watching you.

A little reluctantly, you cleared your throat, breaking the moment before addressing him.

"Do all Zabraks make a habit of staring at half-naked people, or is it just you?"

Maul blinked slowly. 

"I was…waiting to see if you required assistance." The sincerity of the answer pulled a genuine grin from you. His species must have had a very different perspective on nudity for him to miss what you were getting at. His brow furrowed and an almost child-like confusion passed over his face.

"Have I offended you?" There was that uncertainty again in his tone. This was more than casual conversation to him. Your relationship was still fragile, unfamiliar ground. He seemed perpetually afraid to say or do the wrong thing.

"No, Maul," you shook your head. "It’s just… you’re staring at me while I don’t have my clothes on." Better to speak plainly.

His eyes widened in realisation. Truthfully, it had never once occurred to him that the situation was strange, or even unusual. He had never thought anything of being undressed around you either.

"Right." He rubbed the back of his neck, considering your words. Before coming up with a rather interesting conclusion.

"Would it help if I removed this?" He suggested, vaguely gesturing at the top of his tunic. You genuinely couldn’t tell if he was serious or humouring you, but as your eyes met his in the reflection, you realised he was absolutely sincere. 

"You’re a strange man, you know that?" That only deepened his confusion. He felt like he was losing the hold of the conversation, somehow making everything worse. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand how uniting the biggest crime syndicates in the galaxy had felt less complicated than this.  

"I can leave if you pref—" You raised a hand to stop him.

"That’s not what I said." You turned around slowly, and not a single of part of you felt uncomfortable doing so. His gaze immediately fixed on the nasty bruise, the lines of his face tightening once more. 

"I can tell that you’re settled on the belief that I’m afraid of you." That was not a question, and he didn’t deny it.

"I hurt you." He said matter-of-factly

"You didn’t intend to," you countered, and he smiled bitterly.

"It does not change the fact." 

So he wanted to be stubborn. Fine. You could work with that.

"You’re right. So, what should we do about it?" He didn’t have an answer. This was not the kind of problem-solving he was skilled at, and it was beginning to unnerve him.

"You talked about trust earlier," you said, deciding on a different approach. "Come here."

He stared at you questioningly, already considering refusal. Yet against his better judgment, he took a step forward, then another, until he stood only inches away from you. 

Progress. 

Without a word, you slowly reached for his hands and guided them upward. You waited for him to get the hint and open his palms. When he did, you placed them carefully on your shoulders, so that one of them covered the bruise. 

Maul’s entire body tensed up. He had not expected this at all—not you allowing him to touch you again so soon. Deep down, he hoped you were not forcing yourself through this, carrying the burden of reassurance for both of you. You had already showed him more kindness than he thought he had ever properly earned, let alone returned. 

"You won’t hurt me," you said with certainty. "Not if you can help it. And that’s enough for me. Because I trust you." You squeezed his wrists reassuringly before sliding your hands under the length of his arms, all the way to his chest. You placed them flat where his tunic parted, over his twin hearts. You lingered there, breathing together. 

The air in the room shifted. What started as an attempt at reassurance turned very intimate, you both felt it at the same time. Maul’s eyes drifted downward, taking in the rest of you below the neck. But this time, it was clearly not the same look as before. A pleasant sensation ran through his entire body. He may have not been particularly experienced in matters of intimacy, but it wasn’t his first day on the star system either. He recognised the feeling for what it what. 

Desire. 

Not the gentle sort. This was want. Need. Oh, yes, he was very much staring now. The way you started tracing the black ink down the column of his neck did nothing to ease the hunger building inside him.

You were deep in his personal space now, foreheads nearly touching. With quiet satisfaction, you noted the tension had finally left his body, the weight of his arms resting comfortably against you. Your gaze dropped to his mismatched lips—the upper one black, the lower one red. You leaned in closer, pulled in by the urge press your mouth against them. Maul not puling away gave you the last bit of courage you needed. 

The kiss was a bit clumsy at first, just the time for him to reciprocate and move in sync with you. He moaned appreciatively against your mouth as his hands came up to cradle the back of your head with surprising gentleness. It didn’t take long for his tongue to come pushing insistently between your lips, and you gladly let him in. On your end, your fingers had slipped beneath the soft fabric of his tabard, exploring the smooth skin of his chest. You found that he was already running hot beneath your touch. Maul pressed you flush against him, his teeth grazing the side of your neck, alternating with slow licks and kisses. 

By the time you broke apart, both of you were breathless—and nowhere near satisfied. Maul needed no encouragement when you led him silently to the bedroom. He was already stripping off his gloves and gauntlets as he crossed the threshold, letting them drop to the floor. Next he undid the magnetic clasps of his large utility belt and sash. Once they came off, the rest of the layered tunic parted naturally, and he slid it down his muscular arms. You reacquainted yourself with the familiar scars on his chest and stomach. Some you recognised as wounds you had personally treated, others older, though there were so many that you couldn’t tell them all apart.

Maul watched you watch him with hungry eyes. But he was nothing if not disciplined, and waited for you to decide what came next. You made quick work of your night pants and stepped out of them, now completely bare. His gaze darkened instantly.

You claimed his mouth again and savoured the feel of his now bare hands on your skin. One of them wandered across your chest, rough fingertips brushing your nipple in slow circles making you gasp in his mouth. He squeezed your ass and pressed his hips against you firmly enough for you to feel something hard against your front. You held him at the waist, tracing the surgical scar where flesh ended, then lower still over the matte durasteel already visible over the hem of his pants. 

"May I?" you asked between heated, open-mouthed kisses.

"Please," he breathed against your lips, the word rough with need. "Touch me." 

The trousers came off and Maul kicked them unceremoniously towards the pile of clothes on the floor. Then waited.

You paused for a moment, openly observing—admiring—what had just been revealed to you. As expected, everything below was a blend of durasteel and carbon-weave plating, bordering on artistry. And between his legs lay a cybernetic cock, unmistakably machine yet sculpted to mimic the appendage of an organic body. The durasteel was seamlessly merged into red synth-flesh and threaded through with faint bioluminescent crimson veins along its length. You tried not to stare too long, but it was difficult not to. From a mechanic’s perspective alone, the craftsmanship was exquisite.

When you wrapped your fingers around it, you found that it was warmed to body temperature, likely through internal coils. You shook your head, that was enough cataloguing. Instead you focused on Maul. His jaw hung open in pleasure, eyes squeezed shut, confirming that his prosthetic was very much functional and sensitive. 

He obediently let himself be pushed onto the bed, and grabbed your hips as you straddled him. You moaned in unison as you started rubbing your slickness against him, the friction deliciously novel. Maul surged upward to hold you closer as the heat started to build up.

"Please," he panted in your ear as he rolled his hips desperately against you, trembling with restraint. "Let me in. Let me make you feel good."

You didn’t need to be told twice. You aligned him to your entrance and sunk down slowly until he was fully buried inside. You started riding him at a slow pace, feeling every inch. Instinctively, your hand slid up the back of his head, your fingers spreading carefully between his sharp horns to hold him close. Maul buried his face in your neck, breathing hard against your skin as he thrust up to meet you. 

You kept this rhythm going for a while, enjoying the deep and intimate drag, before seeking more intensity. None too gently, you shoved him back against the mattress, and pinned his wrists above his head. Part of you was curious to see if he would resist, but Maul was surprisingly pliant. He had no issues letting you take control; as a matter of fact, he would have let you do just about anything to him right now. 

This time you quickened the pace, chasing you own pleasure, though you couldn’t ignore the rough edges of his cybernetic hips and thighs digging into your soft skin. Maul watched you with fascination, his yellow eyes reflecting the neon lights that danced over your skin as your body moved on top of him. His head eventually fell back in pure bliss at the new angle. He was, you realized, impossibly beautiful like this. Neck corded, veins standing out as strained whimpers spilled from his lips. 

You cursed as you thighs began to get sore from the constant friction against durasteel. Observant as always, Maul noticed immediately. In one smooth motion, he flipped you over as if you weighed nothing, handling you with gentleness still. 

"Let me," he murmured, voice low and rough. He guided your legs further apart. "That’s it… just like that."

He slid back inside you from behind. Slow at first, watching the way you stretched perfectly around his cock, completely transfixed. After a few measured thrusts, you begged for more, and Maul obliged. He pulled you back flush against his chest and fucked you like this, with one strong arm wrapped securely around your midsection, his other hand reaching between your legs. It didn’t take long for you to come apart in his hands, clenching hard around him. Not long after, your felt his cybernetic cock pulse inside you, the internal circuits growing even hotter than before.

Maul caught you before you could collapse on the bed, easing you down with him so your head rested on his chest. You both lay there catching your breath. Beneath your ear, you could perceived the twin rhythm of his hearts beating fast.

"How was that for a show of trust?" you asked, nuzzling into his neck. You felt the vibration of his chuckle.

"Quite convincing," he replied as he kissed the top of your head. "Thank you."

You tilted your head up to look at him. "You know that’s not the only reason I slept with you, right? I wanted this," you needed him to hear it. "I wanted you." 

He nodded immediately, his fingers tracing slow patterns along your spine. "I know. I know, I simply…" he paused, searching for the right words. "I’m aware I can be… difficult. Thank you for seeing past that. For trying. Not many do." You squeezed his hand and pressed it to your lips.

The two of you talked more afterwards, the conversation circling back to his earlier concerns about involving you too deeply in his dangerous life. You were both reasonable enough to understand the reality of things. Whatever existed between you was not going to be some everlasting romance, and neither of you needed to pretend otherwise. Still, Maul knew there were pieces of himself he couldn’t keep from you. It would take time, but one day, he promised, he would tell you more about the nightmares, about his life. About the man who had taught him everything and successively taken everything away from him. 

But for now, he would enjoy the warmth of your body against his, counting the steady rise and fall of your chest as you drifted off in his arms. And tomorrow, he thought with a small private smile… well, tomorrow, perhaps he would stick around, maybe even brew you a cup of Cassius tea. The idea sounded almost absurdly domestic, and it didn’t bother him in the slightest.

Well, there you go, hope you enjoyed this little story! Thank you so much for reading; as always, don't hesitate to let me know what you think :)

(And thank you for all the love you guys showed for part 1, it was truly unexpected <3)

Banner by @carnally-mauls !!

@lainey-laines @darthmaulshispanichousewife , dinner is served!

[fangirlingat2am]

Imagine...Maul talking to you while you're cumming, sitting on his lap while he holds the vibrator.

Maul using his legs to keep yours spread and him toying with your cunt before even considering using the toy. Spreading it open, gingerly touching around, rubbing your clit and trying to get you embarrassingly wet with just his fingers.

And then, when Maul finally decide to use the toy, he talk about mundane stuff. A normal conversation except you're getting less and less coherent because he keep praising you and you just love his deep, gravelly voice so much.

You make a mess on his lap and Maul keeps going until you can't form one single sentence and you're completely covered with his marks. Teeth, fingers, scratches, hickeys... everything.

[maulsscream]

KEEP YOUR EYES PEELED - Part I.

2.7k words | M rated | Alcohol, mention of trauma, sexual themes (sfw)

Next

Summary: Your years on the run have made you abandon the Jedi code to survive, trading your skills for mercenary work. When you feel something hunting you on your way home, you assume the Empire has found you. It's much worse than that.

A/N: this was intended as a one shot but uhhhh *accidentally writes the beginning of a series*

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It takes everything for you not to let your head swivel around and find out the source of the disturbance you just felt. Instead, you stare down at your reflection in your drink. Your Jedi days are long gone, but you remember your training. Always stay on guard, always remain vigilant. You're used to living your life constantly on edge by now, listening for that foreboding fear.

Calling it a disturbance is an understatement. The Force feels like it's being pulled taut, like someone is leeching it straight out of you, suffocating you and pinning you in place. You feel its ripples as it moves closer. To your horror, you realise whoever it is is coming straight for you. You try to settle your nerves and stop your hand from shaking as you reach for your glass over the counter while the other finds the weapon at your waist. In vain.

Naively you had thought that you could spare a few credits on a drink rather than rush straight home as per your habit. Maybe even bring someone home with you. This has put you in the path of a runaway train called fate. It's not often your instincts betray you like this. You pride yourself on your foresight, your ability to sense threats... How has this escaped you? There has to be a reason for you to find yourself here, with whoever this is.

A cloaked figure sits besides you, staring straight ahead. You do not acknowledge him but his presence is felt. It is a towering mass made of shadows and sharp edges, dread made flesh. Your thumb grazes the trigger of your lightsaber and he tuts at you. Even if you weren't out of practice, you would still be powerless to stop him from making you let go and place both palms flat on the counter. He hasn't moved a muscle and yet here you are, petrified like a sacrifice tied to the altar. Deep down, you know it would be futile to attempt to flee.

"Let's keep this conversation civil.", the voice says, deep and measured.

"What do you want?"

"You're a difficult person to find, Jedi."

The way he hisses out the word, one you haven't heard in years, does not bode well for your chances of making it out alive. No one is supposed to know what you are, you have picked this system, this planet, specifically because you had never heard of it. You've had your fair share of run-ins with the Inquisitors prowling the Galaxy but his vendetta feels ancient... worse. A million thoughts run through your head, each less pleasant than the last. You aren't quite sure if it's his hold on you or your fear keeping you from moving, but you free yourself just enough to be able to finally turn your head and look at the profile peaking out from under his hood.

"Darth Maul.", you breath out his name, feeling like the floor has dropped from under you.

"Not anymore. Not for a long time."

You force yourself to finish your drink in a thick gulp. If you're to die here tonight, better not waste credits. Maul watches you, waiting for you to be done to proceed with the rest of his speech. From the stories you had heard over the years, this isn't what you had imagined he would be like. This terrorising brutaliser is patient and polite, even if he seems to have a penchant for the dramatics. All you know of the Sith is violence and ruthlessness. You're surprised to find yourself inclined to listen for a reason other than your life being on the line. You want to know why he is here, with you.

"I have a proposition that you will find most enticing, regarding your future and survival.", he says slowly, drawing out each word.

"Oh yeah, why? So you can kill me yourself?", you counter.

"If I wanted you dead, I would have disposed of you already. I am not the only one tracking you... Though you will find, I am perhaps the most reasonable one."

If you weren't so scared, you might have laughed. Reasonable is the last word you would use to describe Maul, and yet. You could see and sense that he was correct. Whatever reason he had to seek you out and warn you, it was worth listening to. You make yourself hold his searing gaze and reach out with the Force. If he is trying to deceive you, you find no trace of it there. He is telling the truth. You watch the expression on his face change when he senses you, curiosity and... amusement perhaps? Like he didn't expect you to be bold enough to probe at him without restraint. You too are different from what he's imagined.

You raise an eyebrow at him, a silent command to go on now that you've insured he isn't setting a trap for you to fall into head first. Something tells you that as forthcoming as he is being right now, honour is not one of his attributes. He is not above stabbing anyone in the back at the earliest convenience. Let alone a former Jedi.

"Oh yes, Inquisitors are coming. Or had you not noticed them? They're trying to flush you out."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"So we can prepare.", he says as he inches closer.

"There is no we.", you correct him, acid on your tongue.

He takes a moment to think while you trace the markings on his face with your eyes. It isn't often you have time to truly observe an enemy from this close. The pure symmetry of the tattoos is fascinating, extending down to his neck and further on his chest. It's hard to tell which is the colour of his skin, the deep abysmal black or the vibrant blood red. Of course you've seen Zabraks before but not like this, not one so marked. He is an oddity, drawing you in like a poisonous flower.

The sound of him clearing his throat snaps you back into the moment and you chide yourself internally. No one in their right mind should be looking at him for this long. No one has had the time, you suspect. It's uncomfortable for the both of you. You wish you hadn't emptied your drink earlier, you could really use another to steel yourself. You school your features in a mask of calm and serenity.

"Very well... I suggest a truce then. I help you stay hidden and in return you help me with something I need. An artefact I'm told you have."

"What artefact exactly?"

"All in due time, Jedi."

This time, the word sounds sarcastic rather than threatening. This should renew your terror, but instead it irks you. It is one thing for him to hate you for it, you suspect he has every right, but it is another entirely for him to mock you for a code you've long abandoned. You stop yourself from correcting him. He doesn't deserve to have an insight into your... complicated feelings with the Order. And yet something in this exchange makes you want to explain yourself. To tell him how you've been betrayed by the people sworn to protect you.

"No deal. I'll be fine on my own.", you reply as you make to rise.

"Sit.", he orders hurriedly.

This time it isn't the force making you sink back into your seat, but his grip on your shoulder. You glare down at his hand with venom but do as he commands. His tone has changed from conversation to alarm.

"They're here."

You swear under your breath as you watch two masked individuals enter the crowded bar. Maul hasn't looked away from you for a second, not even as your eyes wildly dart around the room for an exit, some sort of escape. Your panic is beginning to rise again, the situation more dire. You're outnumbered now and you're not sure where your would-be-blackmailer stands when it comes to Inquisitors.

"Last chance... the offer still stands."

You groan and shake off his hand. He is right, you know he's right. It's a good deal that if nothing else guarantees your immediate safety. The terms may be murky right now but you've struck worse bargains before. You can wriggle your way out of it later, just as long as you can remain alive to have a later.

He doesn't stop you when you get up this time. Against your better judgment, you grab his extended hand. Maul does not budge, holding your gaze as you pull to force him to his feet but he is rooted to the spot. The damn bastard cocks his head to the side as you keep watch on the two Inquisitors circling the bar. He's actually enjoying this.

"Do we have a deal?", he drawls, voice on the edge of a purr.

"Don't make me regret this.", you hiss back.

He has the audacity to smirk at you. But it's your turn to have the upper hand. He knows how to get his way but you know how to disappear. Dragging him across the room, you land by an empty booth closer to the door where you have a much better vantage point of the place and an easy way out should you need it. But you're tying to blend in, not stand out. You quickly slide into the booth after shoving him in and before he has a moment to protest or you have one to really think about what you're about to do, you throw your leg over his lap and straddle him.

"What are you doing?", he snaps, watching your hands on his chest.

"The same as everyone else is doing."

Maul looks around, squinting at the patrons. He hadn't paid much mind to the sort of place this is, the loudness of the music, the drinks being poured. The people entangled with each other, dancing or otherwise occupied... Without looking at you, he places his hands tentatively around your waist. They thankfully do not grip your flesh, simply resting there like touching you repulses him. You're not sure how you would have reacted if he had gripped you. He does not seem startled by your actions, simply reluctant. It's not often he finds himself out of his depth, you wager. His touch makes you sit up straight. You have to remind yourself to relax which seems an impossible task when two Inquisitors are prowling the establishment and you're currently sitting in a Jedi killer's lap, with his hands dwarfing your middle.

It should make your skin crawl. It should set off the same alarm bells you had felt earlier when he first sat down next to you. Instead it feels... natural, right even. Like something is clicking into place. From the expression on Maul's face, he seems to realise the same thing. His thumb brushes against your rib, both hands now firmly planted on you.

He regards you with narrowed eyes, his lips parting to speak but you cannot bear it. You want to bolt and get closer all at once.

You tuck your head into his neck to avoid having to deal with whatever that was right now. And damn him if he doesn't smell like metal and smoke, making your head spin. You cannot bear to even think about the perplexing, impossible feelings this is going to bring up. There is a vague attempt at rationalising it, at reminding yourself of all the horrors he's committed but so have you. Sure, you're not him but nothing like him? That's a stretch.

From this position, the hood of his cloak hides the both of you. His grip tightens around your middle when you shuffle closer and let your hands wander. Your heart is thundering against your ribcage, and you're certain he can feel it. It's easy to imagine he is anyone else if you keep your eyes closed. But you find yourself not wanting to. That thought is the most horrifying one you've had all evening even as you've spent the better part of the last quarter hour contemplating your death at his hands. You tell yourself it's fear of him, of the Inquisitors hunting you, even as you know better than that.

"What are you doing?", he repeats.

"Making it look realistic... Don't worry, I'm enjoying this as much as you are."

The lie comes smoothly but not convincingly, you can tell. He groans but does not stop you, does not argue, does not even breathe. Instead he leans back with a roll of his eyes and sinks into the cushion of the booth. You're dragged along with him.

You realise he's flipped you when you find yourself looking up at him rather than down. That makes you panic. Your control over the situation is slipping, the scales tipping in his favour. Maul raises a brow at you when you squirm and push against his chest. The feeling of being trapped like a caged animal has returned tenfold. He looks delighted by it. For a second, you had let yourself forget just who you were dealing with. That won't happen again.

"Is this too realistic?", he mocks, his tone saccharine yet biting.

You're too stunned to respond. No quip, no smart remark, you have nothing to throw back in his face. His face, which is currently too close, peering down at you with curiosity and a sort of tired fondness for the fight you should be putting up. You freeze, and hate yourself for it. Instinctively, you wrap your hand around your weapon. It's not enough. It's too slow and clumsy from fear. His reaction is swift, his hand encircling your wrist and pinning it by your face.

"Your earlier observation was incorrect, I am enjoying this. Greatly.", Maul said, voice dangerously calm.

"Let go of me."

"You're in no position to give orders right now, Jedi."

"Too scared to make it a fair fight?", you taunt back.

"Focus. Are they gone?"

Lifting your head off the cushions, you take a look around what you can see of the bar over Maul's broad shoulders. Reaching out with the Force, you scan the room again to be certain that the presence you felt earlier has disappeared. As far as you can tell, it's just the two of you now. It's both a relief and a threat to your very existence. His eyes remained trained on your face.

"The coast is clear."

The words are barely out of your mouth and he is on his feet, reaching out to help you up. You glance at his hand for a beat and let the rejection sting when you refuse it, getting up unaided. After patting yourself down and smoothing out your clothes, you realise he still has your lightsaber. Kriff.

"You will uphold your end of the bargain.", he asserts.

"And then we're done. You'll forget I ever existed."

"Perhaps... But I sense there are other questions left for you to answer. You may be of more use to me than you think."

"No.", you bite back, determined.

"You may run, and you may hide, but destiny will find its way to you. Whether you like it or not, you have set something in motion that cannot be stopped."

You sigh and rub your forehead. Force users and their cryptic bullshit. You hadn't missed it. As you attempt to shoulder your way past him Maul grabs your upper arm, yanking you back so that he can level a look at you. There is a dangerous mix of hope and command in his eyes. You nod at him reluctantly after a brief pause. It's this, or death.

"Home's this way if you still want... what was it?", you probe.

"By all means, lead the way." Maul says as he gestures to the door, ignoring your question.

You turn, even if having him behind you sends a chill down your spine and makes you feel queasy. As you reach the exit and push the door open, you let out a puff of air resembling a laugh. All in all, your evening was exactly as you had planned it. You'd had a drink and took someone home. The rest was just... details.

[honeydazai]

jealousy!

feat.: Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Darth Maul, Darth Vader

hi everyone. we're writing for a new fandom now.

Anakin's jealousy is a firestorm raging on Mustafar; it's the lethal tides of Kamino and the unforgiving heat of Tatooine. It's both ablaze and freezing; the ice running through his veins at the idea of you entertaining someone else is chilling to the bone, even for the Hero with No Fear, and his anger burns all the brighter. He spends about two seconds contemplating not bringing it up to you, but you can tell his emotions right from the start anyway — and he only relaxes slightly when your palm finds his cheek, soothing.

"It's— fine. You know what, actually, no, it's not. I saw you and that guy, talking, and what right does he have to touch you, anyway? Should've told him that right then and there, but I can't—"

He's not fond of your secret relationship anyway, wishes it could be public, normal, the way it'd be if he wasn't a Jedi, but the added stress of some guy thinking you're single while he's in your vicinity, unable to do anything to avoid causing suspicion, has him tense. He knows you wouldn't cheat — right? —, but the topic upsets him greatly, and his hurt emotions only melt away when he gets to lay his head on your lap and you thread your fingers through his hair.

✧

Obi-Wan is by far the most relaxed when it comes to jealousy issues. He has no issues with you talking to a stranger, or having a friendly chat with a colleague, or going out to an event with a friend; those are all normal interactions, and he's happy you have a flourishing social life. Still, if you get too comfortable with someone, he's irked. He doesn't mean to be, Jedi are above petty emotions like that, surely, but he doesn't like that he can clearly sense romantic intentions aimed at you and he can do nothing but watch.

He's not the type for open conflict; besides, he doesn't have much right to be upset. Still, if you're attuned to his moods, you'll notice the slight strain in his smile right away. Luckily, he's easily reassured. He trusts you completely, after all.

"I could tell I was overreacting, which is precisely why I did not mean to bring it up. I trust you. ..Still, thank you for reassuring me. You know how emotions are."

✧

Maul's abandonment issues stem from actual experience and aching loneliness rather than simple possessiveness. He's used to being alone, and has only gotten used to being around you, with you, that the sudden fear of losing you and returning to solitude has him near paralysed. He respects you too much to confront you, but seeing you get along so well with one of the Mandalorian mercenaries he pays has him in a bad mood. He sulks and gets more closed off, subconsciously choosing to abandon before he's abandoned.

"I am faring all right. There's no need to be worried. No, I am not upset. There is nothing we need to talk about. Go on, instead go and talk to your admirer."

He's pouting. He'd rather die than ask for it, but he needs reassurance badly. Once you mention you have no interest in anyone other than him, he's quickly soothed again and forgives almost immediately, nearly dizzy with relief.

✧

Darth Vader, unlike Anakin, has no reason to act restrained. No one would dare to even speak to you, knowing you're his — usually, but there's always one new recruit, eager to serve the Empire and even more eager to get to know you, that'll meet an undesirable fate eventually. The second he notices someone chatting you up, his fist closes, and the guy is lifted off the ground and claws desperately at his throat, trying, begging, silently pleading —

and the body dropping to the floor hopefully doesn't bother you too much. He's not too concerned by what you think about him killing out of possessiveness; he'll make it up to you later, if you're truly upset.

"I'll give you a planet. An entire system, if that's what it takes to make you stop sulking. Don't tell me you actually wanted that fool to talk to you."

And, well. He loves you, is devoted to you, but you better respond correctly to that accusation to prove you're just as devoted to him.