#demon!maul x witch!reader

[maulslittlemeowmeow]

What Goes On In Here

Chapter 3

Warnings: Haunting, spoopy otherworldly being, nightmares

Summary: You’re armed to the teeth with reading materials and a fighting spirit. Fuck this ghost bitch, you’re coming for it.

Pairing: Demon!Maul x Witch!Reader (cis female)

WC: 1503

After probably too many lattes for your already frayed nerves, you return to your apartment with several purchases in tow. It is right as you step through the threshold that another one of those feelings washes over you. It is unpleasant; sticky, thick, nauseating. You slam your door shut and look around the place angrily. You want to shout, try to shoo it away, but you know it won’t work. You have some studying to do.

You bring out the book you had been reading at the coffee shop and move back towards your bed. The only place in your apartment you feel safe enough to practice.

Once you settle in bed, you flip back to the page you had been reading. Energy control. The lesson detailed that in order to perform any sort of spell, you would need to be able to transfer your energy throughout your body to specific places or parts of your body. It is explained easily enough, though you are admittedly nervous. After another quick read-through, you lay flat on your back with your palms flat beside you and close your eyes. In the lesson, you are meant to feel the well of energy within you and try to siphon some to your various extremities. 

It takes a good while before you identify the tingling feeling in your chest as your well of energy, and longer still to try to move it about. You’re focusing so hard on your task that you don’t notice how the energy around you shifts - no longer is there an unpleasant feeling as before; no, now the feeling of satisfaction and excitement is back. When you are able to move energy to your fingertips, something in the air crackles near your head. You try to ignore it, figuring it to be the Being’s doing. But the longer you practice, the more adept you become with this lesson, the more you feel the energy in the room change. You’re suddenly very aware that the energy in the room is moving - for lack of a better term. It is humming, almost vibrating; it feels the same as when a cat lays across you and purrs. It’s surprisingly…comforting. Pleasant.

It is pleased with you. 

That thought should be more alarming to you, but you reason that you would rather it be pleased with you than not. It isn’t attacking you, at least. It is allowing you to go about your business. 

Time for the next lesson. You sit up again and flip through some pages, finding a page with a beautifully rendered apple sketched in the center of the page. This lesson is all about visualization, as it will be necessary for many spells as well as any future meditation or astral projection. The student is to picture something simple - such as an apple - in their mind’s eye, and attempt to get a perfect image of it, move it around on its axis, imagine it in other environments. You lay down again and close your eyes. This lesson proves to be more difficult for you. There are a few times that you think of giving up, but every time you open your eyes, that pleasant vibration seems to grow more erratic, and the feeling pushes you back into the practice. 

Behind closed, twitching eyelids you hold a fuzzy image of a red apple. You can almost picture the shine on it, the little stem, the variations of the color near the top. As the details come into focus, that purring sensation drips over your skin, and something else appears behind the apple in your vision. Red like the apple, something is moving behind it, coming towards it. Your breathing quickens as you make out the distinctive shape of clawed fingers reaching towards the fruit. You’re trembling as the fingers close around your focus, pulling it back towards the inky darkness at the edge of your vision; towards something… Something that shifts and widens, revealing a writhing tongue and pointed teeth. You know those teeth. The wound at your shoulder burns as you watch the teeth bite into the apple - you can hear the crunch - and you see the juice drip over plush lips; you follow the drip of juice as it seems to reveal more of the being in front of you, just a sliver of an onyx throat. The throat bobs as it swallows and you pull yourself from your visualization with a start, sitting up a little too fast and gasping for breath. 

Just like in the cave, you hear something when there is no sound. You do not hear anything in your bedroom, and yet the sound bounces around in your head as if it was all around you, as if whispered into your ear as a secret.

Laughter.

The sound is sharp and so taunting, that it brings tears to your eyes. You hastily wipe them away and reach for your book, flipping through pages rapidly as you try to find something to make this stop. 

You come upon a page with an image of a person surrounded by what looks like light. A protection spell? A Shield. You try to absorb as much of the lesson as you can with that heinous cackling filling your mind. Surround yourself with energy. Picture that energy as a forcefield. Intention is key. 

You follow those instructions, unconsciously curling your body into a tight ball and closing your eyes, placing your hands over your ears as you try to envision your energy as a bubble around your body. You struggle and search for the willpower to fuel the bubble and keep the Being out.

It is quiet.

You open your eyes again, trying to hold the shield with all your concentration as you look around. You can’t feel any of the phantom sensations anymore, and the laughing has stopped. Now the tears you shed come with a disbelieving, breathless laugh. You smile wide, looking around the room, seeing and feeling nothing.

This time, the sound you hear is outside of your mind; in fact, you think you hear it in the same corner you had seen the deep shadow the night before. The same bone-rattling snarl you heard in the cave. It is followed by heavy, retreating footsteps and the sudden slamming of your bedroom door.

You yelp in fear and curl in on yourself again, your hands covering your head protectively. You refuse to move, even as you begin to feel famished and exhausted - your body beginning to feel faint - you hold that shield. You hold it until you cannot keep your eyes open any longer.

You wish you could say this was a dreamless sleep. At first, one might think it to be so, considering no images conjure within the obsidian wasteland that is your subconscious mind. But you know better. You can feel Him.

“Oh, come now. You were doing so well at visualizing me while you were awake. Try harder.”

His voice moves as if he is circling you, like some sort of hungry beast. 

“Poor little witchling… overworked herself so she could hide from me, only to face me in her dreams.” He hisses, sounding closer now. “You can’t run from me here, witchling. You’re not nearly powerful enough to be rid of me.”

That tickling sensation is back, raking over your shoulder and neck. You can’t move, you can’t speak - you can only watch in horror as the hand you’d seen in your vision traces a clawed finger down your arm. 

“There we are, look how well you are doing.” He cooes, just beside your head. “Would you like to see my face, little witch?”

You want to scream, push him away, shake your head - anything. But you can’t, you’re held by unseen bindings in the darkness as you feel his presence shift around you again. Without realizing it, you manifest the cold silver eyes you’d seen reflected back at you in the cave. They change shape, the lids surrounding them closing and turning them to half-moons, squinted with amusement and you hear him chuckle.

“Close, but not quite. Let me help you.” He rumbles pleasantly. Your shoulder burns as the energy crackles and pushes down on you, like hands grasping at something deep in your chest.

Close enough that you might have felt his breath, the silver eyes appear before you. The milky reflection warms, melting from the inside out, a blazing gold appearing as they defrost. They are so close that you can make out the ring of crimson around the rim of the irises, and every bloodshot vein surrounding them. 

You wake with a strangled gasp, your hands immediately shooting out in front of you as if to push something away. Even in this moment, your movements feel sluggish with exhaustion. Your whole body feels so heavy, like every movement takes every fiber of your being to produce. And to top it all off, you're starving.

-----

Previous Chapter x x x Next Chapter

I know I should have uploaded the next chapter of Catch Me First, but Demon!Maul has me in a chokehold and I’ve lost all self control, so here he is once again!

As always, thank you to @eloquentmoon​ for the constant support and also for beta-ing this chapter~

If you would like to read more of my work, you can check out my Masterlist  or my AO3. If you would like to be added to my taglist, shoot me a message!

Taglist:

@eyecandyeoz​ @kimageddon​ @misogirl828​ @mooremooo​ @always-on-tatooine​

#demon!maul #demon!maul x witch!reader #demon au #darth maul #darth maul fic #star wars darth maul #star wars #maul x reader #maul x you #darth maul x reader #darth maul x you #fanfic #fic writing #maulslittlemeowmeow

[bacarasbabe]

Zabrak Masterlist

A place for all my fics about Darth Maul and Savage Opress. This covers The Clone Wars, Rebels, Legends, and my own silly AU's. Dividers by @saradika

Back to the Main Star Wars Masterlist

Darth Maul

Series

Beat the Devil's Tattoo Masterlist - Updating

2021 Kinktober fic featuring Demon!Maul x Witch!Reader - 21/31 Chapters Completed - 26.8k words - Explicit

Darth Maul Pride and Prejudice AU List

Just my silly goofy collection of my Darth Maul Regency AU. Darth Maul is Mr. Darcy and the reader insert is Lizzy. Includes art, edits, fic drabbles and anything else I feel like making

One Shots & Drabbles

Maul + Injury (hurt/comfort)

Character + Fic Trope Prompt - 850 Words - Mature

On Top

What happens when the reader uses the Force to pin down Maul - 800 Words - Mature

Improper Use of The Force

Maul uses the Force inappropriately on the reader - 1.3k Words - Explicit

Inky Black

Drabble/headcanon about tracing Maul's tattoos with your tongue - 400 Words - Explicit

Maul Using the Force

5 sentence hc about Maul using the Force to check in with the Reader - Mature

Maul and Breath Play

Five sentence hc about Maul and breath play - Explicit

Maul + Kissing the marks you left in them

Five sentence fic request - Mature

Savage Opress

Underneath

Reader used the Force to pin Savage's hands above his head - 900 Words - Explicit

Savage and cock warming

5 sentence hc about cock warming Savage - Explicit

Savage is too big to fit

Size difference 5 sentence hc - Explicit

Savage + I don't like them looking at you

Five sentence fic request - Mature

Savage + Putting a hand over their mouth to keep quiet

Five sentence fic request - Explicit

#masterlist #zabrak masterlist #darth maul smut #maul smut #darth maul #darth maul x you #darth maul x reader #maul x you #maul x reader #savage opress #savage opress smutt #savage opress x reader #savage opress x you #savage x you #savage x reader

[meetmyevilways]

Sacred

Darth Maul x Reader (demon!Maul x witch!Reader)

Plot: You accidentally bind yourself to a demon...

Warnings: dark stuff, more warning at the end so not to spoil the fun, you can search for it with ctrl/cmd+f or scroll down at the bottom of the post

***

The first thing you feel is a tingling sensation in your lower belly as you come out of the dream, you feel weirder by the second. Sleep is slow to leave you but the reason for those weird feelings is quick to speed up the process by ripping out another orgasm out of you.

You fully wake to the feeling of being stuffed by a ridged cock that's hammering into you, prolonging your mind-blowing peek as much as possible. You scream with pleasure then you scream with horror as you take a look at the face of the male who's balls deep inside of you.

His skin is black and red, the markings clearly state his level of power and royal status. Those burning, fire-coloured eyes mesmerise you into compliance and you get silent a pliant under him. You eye the dangerous-looking horns while you try to clear your mind, which is really hard given the fact that this male is determined to fuck you even more raw.

Limbs weak and trembling, you try to push him away but it only makes him chuckle. He's been fucking you for hours, making you come, again and again, not letting you wake up until you were too weak to deny him.

"Stop it, demon. You can't be here, I didn't invite you." You try to hold onto every little rule you can think of since you cannot gather neither your physical strength nor your magical power.

He smiles wickedly, showing off his sharp fangs. And with his next words, he makes your blood turn cold.

"But you did, with that new ritual your friend gave you for extra protection to this day." He informs you happily. Stroking your cheek, stopping his thrusts for a moment while he holds your crying form. "Don't be upset pet, he didn't deserve your friendship. He was playing with something he didn't understand and he exchanged you for his life."

He grabs your chin and kisses the tears away, then gives you a deep kiss, all tongue and dangerous teeth, that stole your breath away before he starts to move again. "I will take care of you."

The demon pins your hands above your head and drops flush against you. He moves in and out of you in deep, hard strokes forcing you to feel every ridge along his massive cock and aligning your hips to the side a little so his patterned length would brush against your clit every time.

You fight the feeling, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of making you come again but he only smiles at your defiance like it's a challenge he will enjoy immensely. Bending down his head he nips at your neck which causes you to freeze as the sharp edges of his fangs scratch along your delicate skin. The only motion you do is coming from his thrust which drags you back and forth on the bed while you remain in his hold.

He can feel you tighten around him, so he decides to give you even less chance to resist. Sharp teeth graze your nipple, he is teasing you, dragging your hardened bud in sync with the snapping of his hips. You can't help but moan when his tongue plays with your sensitive nipple, sucking on it until you are your back off the bed.

The relentless stimulation quickly makes you lose any remaining control and you come around him while he keeps fucking you without mercy.

He stops only to pull out and turn you around. Lying on your stomach, you try to crawl away from him but he grabs your hips and pulls you back to him, then he slams inside you again.

The brutal pace he dictates has you close to coming again, though it is more pain than pleasure now. It feels like he's getting bigger each time he forces himself inside you and you soon realise why.

"No. No. No. You can't knot me, it will rip me open." He presses a frustratingly gentle kiss on your back. "You can and you will." He informs you calmly.

"No, please. It won't fit." Your begging makes him chuckle again and magic burns in you with your anger, you are ready to strike when he dissolves all your power again with a simple sentence. "It did for the last three times."

"Let go, my little witch." He says as he starts to push the knot in you. " You will learn to love it. You will learn to love me." You relax only for your sake, at least that's what you tell yourself until the feeling of his knot and cum stuffing you full and his grinding against your clit makes you come. When your orgasm starts he bites down hard on your shoulder, causing you to scream again.

***

He lays on you, still locked inside your tight heat. Pressing open-mouthed kisses along your shoulders and neck, licking at his bite mark occasionally.

You sigh as you hear the clock sign the end of the hour and the day, thinking you will get rid of him in seconds but he is quick to destroy your hopes.

"Oh, no, pet. We are not even close to being done." He says, that wicked smile returns to mock you, you can hear it.

"You can't stay, the Eve is done. You can't stay in the mortal world." You look at him through the mirror on your nightstand with newfound terror.

"Hmm, but I can stay with my mate as long as I wish. And we will not leave this bed until I know you are carrying my heir inside you." He sees the moment you piece it together, the ritual not only summoned him but it was the invite for mating, which he accepted. He claimed you, fucked you, marked you and bound you to him for all eternity. You will not get old, you can never escape him.

So without any hope, you give up on fighting him and just give in. Maybe you will get to love him like he said, though the thought of him knocking you up terrifies you but there's nothing you can do to stop him. He's stronger than you and can keep your magic at bay so you couldn't fight him even if you weren't bound to him.

The mating bond is sacred, nothing can break it. You are his.

***

Warnings: noncon, somnophilia, PiV, dubcon, forced mating, knotting, biting, forced breeding

#darth maul #darth maul x reader #maul x reader #maul x you #darth maul x you #demon!maul x witch!reader #monster x reader

[dreamlandcreations]

Midnight Treat Masterlist

2021 - witch!reader & ritual at midnight

All Hallows Eve

King Arthur x mage!reader ⚡🧸

Summary: Staying at the castle, you train Arthur so he can wield the sword properly. When All Hallows Eve arrives, the dead wants to be heard...

Sacred @meetmyevilways

demon!Darth Maul x witch!Reader❌ 🔥

Plot: You accidentally bound yourself to a demon...

#masterlist #halloween #all hallows eve #halloween fic #king arthur x reader #king arthur #king arthur legend of the sword #darth maul #darth maul x reader #darth maul x you #king arthur x mage!reader #king arthur x you #demon!maul x witch!reader #my stuff #my fics

[dyzie7754]

My Virgin Sacrifice

****REPOSTING THIS BECAUSE OF TUMBLR BEING RIDICULOUS**** Pairing: Lucifer X Reader Warnings: Smut, DaddyK!nk, bossy!Lucifer, blood, bad language. Summary: Y/n is witch who is being sacrificed to Lucifer. In a twisted chain of events there is a wicked witch, a good witch, and a handsome devil. Author’s Note: Hi everyone! My drabble Sinful for Lucifer took off so well these last few days, and since I can’t get the Devil out of my head, I decided to give you guys a whole story. I am not sure if it any good, but let me know. I hope you like it. As always, please see my page for more of my work, and look for the master-list which should be out very soon!

~*~    Your grandmother was a witch, just as your mother was. You had grown up with a love for witchcraft sprouting from their teachings at a very early age. Of course, your family and home coven stayed far away from anything too sinister and dastardly for obvious reasons. Curses, hexes, and demons tended to backfire, or at least end very badly for the witch. Especially when hunters got involved.    As you grew older you grew fonder of the idea of traveling, absorbing all the knowledge and wisdom you could across the lands. And with a lifted heart and demeanor, you did. Seeing everything you could-learning all you could-of evil and good. But even you could tell that the world was shifting. Demons became more and more frequent, hauntings became more and more deadly, and good witches became few. Even the hunters began to fizzle out one by one. By the time your grandmother left this earth and your mother took control of the coven, rumors had begun to spread about the rise of the true king. The true one to rule hell and all those that belong to hell. The archangel that had started and would restart the war between Heaven and Hell.

                                                 Lucifer.

Growing worried for your mother and the good of your coven you returned home, only to find your coven in a state of power-hungry, evil infused paranoia under the charge of a lady who called herself Sirena. Sirena was a force you had never met before. She was cunning and vindictive, and seemingly all knowing. Sirena was quick to punish those she doubted and the returning daughter of the head witch she had overthrown was just that. An opponent to test her power and dedication to her King Lucifer.

    She had attacked you before you had time to even register what had happened.  And after you lay bruised and battered on the ground, she commanded those who used to be your trusted friends to help her bind you.

“Y/n, it’ll all be fine. Lucifer will be every so gracious of your sacrifice. Why, he might even be as gracious as to grant our coven everlasting favor in the courts of Hell! Think of the good you’ll be doing here!” Sirena preached to you as she pulled the ropes tighter to your skin.

“I didn’t sign up for this, Sirena. You know that! You have taken a peaceful coven, and turned all these women vengeful,” You say as you struggle against the bonds that hold your hands and feet.

“Oh sweetheart, that was what your mother thought too, but you’ll see. Everyone will see. I’ve finally perfected the perfect spell, and it’s sure to reach our King’s ears this time,” she said with a wicked laugh. She back away from you to pick up a long-curved dagger from the table nearby. “Just think about it,” she started with another awful cackle, turning back towards you as she played with the knife, “you’re the perfect sacrifice! I mean before I killed your mother, I had heard about her talk about you to the others. You’re still pure-in more ways than one.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” you cried, swinging your gaze to your once friends who stood facing you on the far wall, pleading with your eyes for them to save you.

“Oh Y/n, that won’t work. They are no longer easily persuaded. Now, back to the matters at hand. You know exactly what I mean when I say ‘pure’. You’re still pure of heart, in fact you almost have a childlike sense of wonder,” Sirena pressed the dagger under your chin, forcing your head up and your eyes to hers. “You also have never been-bedded, to put nicely. So innocently pure. A virgin sacrifice for the King. How classically polite.”

  Your eyebrow raised automatically. The bitterness of the situation finding you now, “You polite or nice? I’ve known you five minutes and I’m tied to a chair being sacrificed because I’ve never been ‘bedded’.”

 Sirena’s smile twitched and you watched as her eyes glazed over for a split second before her hand moved. In that second, she moved and you felt the cold sting of the blade across your cheek. When she pulled back again, the dagger was lined with blood, and Sirena? She was looking quite proud of herself.       “Fine, fucked. You’re just as picky as your mother was. I was trying not to offend your delicate ears, but now I don’t care. With this offering of your blood, Lucifer will practically praise me. That is of course after he rapes and devours you,” Sirena cackled.

She began reciting a spell you in a language not even you had ever heard, but you couldn’t really pay attention to any of that. Your face and your body hurt. Your mother was dead, and your coven betrayed your family. Your life was officially sucking right now, and you could give a damn less what else was happening around you. A bright light in the room caught your attention, if not for the simple fact it practically blinded you. Sirena began laughing again, spinning and clapping, searching the room with her eyes. She turned to you when the light completely faded with a scowl.

“It didn’t work!” she raged. “How could have not worked? You slut! You must have fucked someone, or else it wouldn’t have worked. You filthy whore liar! I’ll-“

“Now, now, let’s not be quick to kill anyone, especially my sacrifice,” a cold male voice said filling the room.

      “My King!” Sirena said dropping to her knees. “I apologize for disturbing you, but I thought this sacrifice would prove my willingness to serve.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Lucifer says stepping into the dimly lit room.

When your eyes found his, you almost gasped. He was gorgeous. He was blonde headed and freckled, lean but built, and he had a very arrogant bad boy nature. He regarded you in a calm, distant expression, but it didn’t seem to be one of hate. His eyes seemed to glow back at yours for a second more before he shifted his attention back to Sirena, his look darkening.

“I am trying to plan and carry out the Apocalypse-or did you forget that?” he asked Sirena pacing closer to where she was standing near you.

“I apologize King, I thought she would please you.”

“She looks-quite tasty, but that is not the point. Disturbing me is very rude, when you could have come to me like every other damn demon has with their signs of loyalty. Instead you summon me? Do you have any idea what I was in the middle of?”

“I am truly sorry, it won’t happen-” Sirena began, but Lucifer swiftly cut her off with a hand to her throat.

The glow of his eyes seemed to brighten and he hauled her into the air with one hand. “Oh,” he said coldly, “I know it won’t.”

Just then Sirena emitted a beam of light from every orifice of her body. Lucifer pretty much burning her from inside out, and casting her lifeless body aside. He turns to you with a raised brow and relaxed look.

 “I loathe power hungry twats who disturb others, don’t you, love?” he asks almost nicely.

You blink back at him for a second before replying, “L-love?”

Lucifer doesn’t answer your question. Instead he comes closer to you expecting your bruises and cut up face. He runs his hands across your bonds, and you feel them dissipate. “No running, pet. Daddy has to heal you and take you home,” he says almost absentmindedly placing his hands on your face.

“Excuse me, what?”  You ask just as the warm feeling over takes you. It spreads through your body, making it hum and shiver, and you shift just slightly in your seat. Lucifer’s eyes connect with yours again and it’s as if he’s warning you to stay still with just his gaze.

The feeling intensifies as it spreads, and soon your body is on high alert, but tired at the same time. You feel your eyes begin to shut of their own accord. Right before the blackness of unconsciousness takes you, you hear Lucifer’s voice once more.

   “Now, let’s get you home.”

  You awoke atop of a king size, black satin covered bed in a dark room. You no longer hurt, but you didn’t know where you were. You weren’t even sure if what you thought had happened had really happened. That would be ridiculous, right?

“It might be for an average human, but not you,” a cold voice that you were becoming all too familiar with said. Glancing up to find Lucifer starring down on you, you almost screamed, but he had already raised a hand to silence you. “I will not hurt you, Y/n. I promise. I even healed your wounds for you, pet.”

“Oh, just stop it with the ‘pet’ stuff already. We both know the only reason you are interested in me is because of that stupid ritual and the fact I am a virgin. I am not yours,” You spat out before you could think to stop yourself.

You watched Lucifer’s eyes darken menace and almost gulped in fear. “I assure you, that isn’t true. In fact, you are mine and I will prove it,” he said darkly.

“You just said you wouldn’t hurt me!” You accuse him quickly.

“And I won’t, but let me show you why you should belong to me.”

You mauled it over for a second. It would if nothing else prevent something like this from happening again, and after his virgin sacrifice infatuation wore off that was the only risk here. He did promise not to hurt you. You looked back at him and nodded. “Okay.”

You were pushed back against the black satin sheets, your arms falling to rest by your head. Your legs spread of their own accord, unable to hide the sudden arousal caused from the angel above you.

Lucifer hovered above you, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You moaned into his mouth as his teeth tugged on your lower lip. One hand snaked up to tangle in your hair, using it to roughly pull your head back so he could access your neck. You gasped and closed your eyes as his teeth grazed your skin and found a soft spot you never knew existed.

Obliviously, Lucifer had done this before. You had not. Starting to feel a bit insecure, you brought your hands up to push back against him, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Lucifer,” you gasp, trying again. “I’m not good enough for this I barely know how to kiss.”

“Don’t even think about it like that, pet,” He ordered silkily as his jean clad hips ground against yours, his manhood already hardening.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, almost automatically, with a desperate gasp for more affection, or attention, or really anything you could get. One of his hands cupped a breast, squeezing and kneading, while his lips found the curve of the other. He sucked your skin into his mouth, his tongue leaving a cold fire across your skin. You tightened your legs around his waist, feeling a sudden wetness pooling between your legs. And in response, Lucifer ripped the shirt from your body.

He chuckled at your attentive responses, grinding his hips against yours. His hand slid from your breast down your side, his fingers a seductive dance on your skin.

“So responsive for me, pet,” he murmured, kissing his way back up to your neck. He sucked on your neck and as his fingers slid into the waistband of your jeans and ripped those off as well causing you to moan. “That’s my girl,” he grunted, biting your neck. He pulled back and smiled proudly at the dark hickey he’d left on your skin, marking you as his woman for all eternity.

He worked his hand down to your wet heat slowly, and thrust a finger into you, his slow pace never faltering as you wiggled and bucked against him. His hips helped to keep yours steady while he worked you with his hand, his other hand tugging at your hair and his lips alternating between decorating your neck and devouring your now naked breasts.

 You felt a foreign knot building in your belly, but before it could burst, Lucifer removed his finger. You whimpered shamelessly at the loss of contact and he chuckled darkly. He hovered above you, angling his hips so that his manhood rubbed against your entrance, and you noticed you had completely missed how he had gotten his jeans off.  Finding yourself not caring, however you tried your best to hint to him that you needed him with your body.

He growled back at you when he noticed your slight shimmies for his attention and sprung on you like a wild tiger. His lips attacked your skin, as he rubbed his manhood through your wetness. The contact rubbed against your clit, causing your hips to jerk upwards.

“That’s right, kitten. Let Daddy take care of you,” he instructed, sitting back and using his hands on your hips to help position you. You complied, finding little shame anymore in Lucifer’s arms.

Lucifer positioned himself above you, his hands on your hips as he thrust into your sex slowly. You moaned at feeling him inside you, and although slightly strange-there was no pain. Your legs began spreading more to entice him further. He understood, pushing in as far as he could. His hands gripped your hips bruisingly as he pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in. Working you over very well for your first time. You moaned loudly and your hands gripped the pillow, all of your senses gone. All you could focus on was Lucifer pounding into you like he owned you. This archangel making you his prize.

 He leaned over you, one hand tangling in your hair and tugging your head forward. You mewled and turned your head to meet his lips in a possessive kiss. He sucked your tongue into his mouth as he continued his thrusts. While you were lost in his kiss, the hand on your hip slid forward between your folds to rub mercilessly at your clit, earning a string of loud whorish moans from your lips which he eagerly swallowed.

The knot in your belly exploded, your orgasm gushing. He kept his pace causing you to drag your nails down his toned chest. His hands gripped your hips so he could thrust his hips into yours, his pelvis striking your clit with each thrust, sending your orgasm skyrocketing upwards yet again.

Your name fell from his lips like a moaned prayer, the sound making you moan in return. “Please…” You stammered, wrapping your arms around him. “I-I… I can’t…”

“Not yet.” He ordered and you struggled to take a ragged breath, in a failed attempt to get a hold of yourself. “You are absolutely delicious, pet,” He informed you. “So responsive, so willing.”

“Please….” You whispered. “Just… please.”

“I’m sorry, what was that? Who are you talking to, Little Girl?” He asked innocently.

“Lucifer, please I need you…” You pleaded, grinding your hips up as best as you could. He grunted, but still did not relent.

“No, pet. What is my name?” He demanded once more, slowing his pace almost completely.

You groaned out, frustrated, but completely turned on. “Daddy, please!” “Much better, pet.” He growled and without pause, he was buried up to the hilt inside of you once more. You couldn’t help the shriek that was pulled from your lips as he began to brutally slam into you. His lips once again lock onto your chest, sucking. You barely notice as your hands wrap around his back nails digging into skin. “Moan for me, Little Girl.” He grunts, hitting that spot deep inside you.

“Daddy!” You manage to choke out as he hits that spot with every thrust.

“I can’t hear you.” He punctuates each word with a snap of his hips.

“Daddy!” You scream as the knot that was building once more explodes, cause your whole body to jerk. Lucifer’s own orgasm followed yours, and as he cried out with you, he held you close as he worked you both through it, slowly. When you both had finally calmed down, he withdrew and looked at you. His next words shocking your ecstasy ridden body.

“If you think you are leaving me, Y/n, you are wrong. You are mine. Forever. My virgin sacrifice.”

#dom!lucifer #lucifer #lucifer smut #spn #spn smut #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural smut

[jortsaaaaaaart]

Morning Star- Lucifer x Soulmate!Reader- chp1

God gave all his children soulmates, his most unruly archangel was no exception. Now freed from the cage Lucifer is hellbent on finding his soulmate. A soulmate that has no idea what their life is about to turn into.

This is set in season 5, so don't read if you're just staring out.

Chp1- Heartless      Chp2

“I don’t understand,” You said into the phone. It was wedged precariously between your ear and shoulder as you fiddled with your keys. “I was told the delivery of monkswood and silver would be here before opening.” The wooden door swung open finally and you shuffled in with your baggage. Breathing in the familiar scent of hardwood and spices you placed your bags down before turning on the lights. “I see. . . A mudslide? Yeah I understand. . . No I have a bit left I should be good till tomorrow. Right. Goodbye.” The phone went silent and you let out a long sigh. Dealing with hunters was bad enough but dealing with their suppliers was even worse.

‘Wait,’ You thought. ‘I’m a supplier now too aren’t I.’ Another sigh escaped your lips at the realisation. It had been almost a year since you set up shop here in Mystic, Connecticut- yes, the name of this picturesque town did play a small part in choosing it- and you’d dealt with your fair share of hunters in your time. Hell, sometimes even the stray witch or demon. It wasn’t always easy work but it was what you knew, what you were good at. With practiced steps you put away today’s packages before flipping the closed sign on the window. Hopefully today would turn out better than you expected.

-- Meanwhile --

The doors on the Impala shut with a familiar metal thud. The boys had just gotten back from their latest crime scene and were thoroughly stumped. This was the second body they’d found since getting into town and they weren’t getting any closer to finding the creature responsible. The bite marks and the mauling of the victim were all signs of a werewolf but the heart was still intact.

Sam sighed and slumped back in his seat. “Maybe it’s a ghoul?” He suggested halfheartedly, earning a scoff from Dean.

“There weren’t any signs of a struggle, and ghouls usually don’t leave that much of a corpse behind. And the claw marks?” He ran a hand over his face tiredly. “I think we may have to call Bobby on this one, Sammy.” The taller Winchester could only give a defeated nod as his brother pulled out his phone.

Bobby answered after the second ring, thankfully he’d been at his desk, the wheelchair made it difficult to move around his cluttered home with any speed. “What?” He answered coarsely.

“What?” Dean repeated. “Well it’s good to talk to you too Bobby.”

“Can it, idjit. It’s been a long day, what do you boys want?”

“Well we’ve got a bit of a situation here, Bobby. We’re in Mystic, Connecticut, looking into the maulings-”

“Yeah, the werewolf, right?” Bobby interrupted.

“About that. . . It’s not a werewolf. The heart was still in this last victim and there was so much of it left. We’ve ruled out most of the common monsters, ghouls, vamps, the works.” Dean explained. “And before you ask there wasn’t anything on or around the bodies. No sulfur, no EMF, no nothin.” Dean heard Bobby sigh over the phone and he could picture the exasperated look on the man’s face.

“Alright I’ll look into it. You boys should check in with a local hunter. (Y/N)(L/N), she runs the Morning Star, good place for any hunters passing through.”

“Okay, thanks Bobby. And hey, if you need to talk. . . You know you can call us, right?” Dean told him, voice hushed. There was silence on the line for what seemed like forever before Bobby croaked out ‘right’ and hung up. “Well. . . That went well.”

“He did just get paralysed.” Said Sam as his brother started the engine. “Maybe we should give him a break.

“Yeah. . . Yeah.” Dean sighed. “Let’s just go talk to this hunter chick and see where that gets us.”

Minutes later the impala pulled up beside a small brick shop, the words ‘Herbs & Tea’ were painted underneath one of the windows. The boys got out, still in their FBI suits, and strode towards the door. Sam got there first, looking down at the silver door handle before glancing back at his brother. They stepped in and were greeted by the jingle of a bell and the smell of a spice rack. The shop had rows of bookshelves lining the walls, some filled with mason jars others with books. The brothers walked up to a wooden desk and Dean immediately reached out and slammed the bell on the counter.

“What?” He asked incredulously. “It says ring for assistance.” His brother gave him his trademark stare as a, slightly disheveled, girl made her way out of a back room. Dean straightened up, a cocky smirk on his face, as he saw her- or as I should say- you. He leaned against the counter seductively. Ready to pull out his FBI badge which, in his mind, always impressed the ladies.

“Hi! Sorry, just putting away some tea filters.” You said. You let your eyes wander over the two men all hopes of them actually being paying customers gone when you saw their faces. “Sam and Dean Winchester? Really?” You slumped back against the wall, arms crossed. “Is this about the freaking werewolf? Isn’t that a little lowbrow for you guys?”

“Again with the- It’s not a werewolf okay?” Dean looked shocked for a second before his outburst. Sam gave you a tight lipped smile at his brother’s antics.

“Yeah. You must be (Y/N).” Observed Sam. “I’m guessing you know us through Bobby?”

“Mhmm. Bobby’s a good friend, I’ve helped him and he’s helped me. I’ve heard enough about you two to know if you’re here then something’s up.” You looked between the men briefly. “So if it’s not a werewolf what is it? More apocalypse stuff?”

“Maybe, we’re not entirely sure it’s a werewolf.”

“Yeah I got that.” You chuckled. “How so?”

“Didn’t take the heart. That and everything’s too clean.” Dean finally piped up.

“That is strange. . .” Your (E/C) eyes moved from the hunters to the door you came from. “I suppose we better get down to business.” Motioning for the boys to follow you made your way back into the store’s private library. They trailed after you, albeit cautiously, and were surprised by how organised everything was. The wooden bookshelves from the public face of the store continued into the back only this time they were absolutely stacked with books and scrolls. “And of course by ‘business’ I mean research. I’m sure Bobby’s doing the same thing right now but it never hurts to put a little extra work in.” The two Winchesters put up less of a fight then you thought they would, opting to grab a stack of books each with grimaces on their faces. “I’ll go grab us some tea.”

“Coffee?” Dean asked hopefully.

“Tea.” With that final word you left the boys to deal with the mass of literature alone, at least until the kettle boiled.

#wolfsbane #reader insert #lucifer x reader #lucifer x y/n #lucifer #supernatural x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural lucifer x reader #supernatural lucifer #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #Sam Winchester #sam winchester x reader #xreader #x reader #x reader fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #soulmate #soulmate au #alternate universe

[maulslittlemeowmeow]

What Goes On In Here

Chapter 2

Warnings: hospitalization, panic attacks, nightmares, harassment via haunting, spooky scary otherworldly being

Summary: You wake up, not where you thought you would. When you sleep again, it He makes another appearance.

Pairing: Demon!Maul x Witch!Reader (cis female)

WC: 1490

Waking up in the hospital is a trip. You always see it happen in tv shows and movies, but you’d always thought the actors were overselling it. Nope. You are extremely confused for a solid few minutes before you try to sit up and you feel the distinctive stiffness of bandages over your shoulder and head. You pull at the scratchy gown to look down at the gauze on your shoulder, then hear the door to your room slide open. 

The nurse introduces himself and explains your treatment, then asks you what you remember. You take a few moments, trying to make sense of what you saw. No one was going to believe you, and if you told them the truth, you’d be in here a lot longer for observation than you would be with just your concussion.

“I was hiking and… I came across a homeless encampment. One of them was very violent. I was able to make it back to the parking lot but I passed out.” You lie, the story sounding reasonable enough in your own fuzzy mind.

The nurse seems to believe you as well. He explains that they will keep you for observation for the rest of the night and then if everything seems normal, you will be discharged. With all of that settled, you are left with your thoughts. You look around the room to see your belongings in a bag on a bedside table. You find your phone.

There is a crack spider-webbing from one corner. Your breath hitches as you run a finger over the crack and feel the slightly raised edge of glass. Luckily, it still functions fine, but staring at the ruined screen just makes you anxious, so you set it back on the table and look up at the television. The volume is too low to hear what is happening in the show that is playing, but having something to focus on helps the minutes tick by.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Returning to your apartment seems to bring you back to reality. The whole day seems so distant and dramatic that you still honestly wonder if it happened or if it was some sort of hallucination. Hearing the locks on your door click hurtles you back into clear consciousness for the first time in hours. You rest your forehead against the cool wood of your door and feel your eyes widen an almost painful amount as you stare down at your feet.

Your breathing quickens, as does your heart rate and you slide down to your knees. You feel like you need to get out of your own skin, like you want to rip it from your bones and escape the prison of your physical being as it curls in on itself and shakes with full bodied tremors. Your body and mind aren’t safe, nowhere is safe - you’re exposed. You turn and press your back against your front door and bring your knees to your chest, your leggings absorbing some of your tears as they stream down your hot cheeks.

Somehow, amongst the terror of your panic attack, there is a feeling that settles over you. A feeling of satisfaction - it is not your own. It feels as if you are being watched, similar to if you were performing on stage and can feel an applause waiting for the moment you finish your line; electric, buzzing, excited. The realization only makes you choke on your sobs. What is this? 

You crawl on your hands and knees to your bedroom and into bed. The blankets are pulled up over your head and somehow gives you a sense of security, which allows you to finally pass out after the long day you’ve had.

It’s here. No, he’s here. You somehow know that the thing lurking in the shadows of your dream is a he. You can feel him, circling you, chasing you through the woods again. You’re tripping over brambles and clawing your way through what feels like an endless thicket of brush, but you get no closer to safety. He’s always just behind you. 

“Just let me in,” he cooes, you can feel his breath on your neck.

Your limbs are beginning to feel sluggish, betraying you as you continue to try to flee this being. It doesn’t matter how far you go, how desperately you climb through this unyielding forest, he’s always right there. You can almost feel his frustration, falling over you like a heavy blanket, only slowing you further.

“I will continue to hunt you. I will not stop. Accept me.”

His voice is all around you, shocking through your system and-

You shoot forward, sitting up in your bed with such force that you nearly fall forward on your hands and knees. Your breath comes to you in ragged gasps. Your skin is sticky with sweat. The wound at your shoulder throbs and screams with every movement. It’s dark in your room, but you swear the shadows in the corners seem deeper, like something is hiding in it. You quickly reach for your phone with shaky hands and shine your flashlight around your room, finding nothing amiss. 

Turning on the lamp at your bedside gives you a crumb of security. Settling back against your headboard, you immediately run to the internet.

How to get rid of unwanted presences?

You type into your search engine, finding youtube videos and articles and all manner of websites both legitimate and what you consider otherwise. After a few hours of perusing you see enough self proclaimed “witches” claiming you shouldn’t trust anything you read on the internet and you huff in frustration. You change your search.

Best books for a beginning witch.

You feel ridiculous even typing it. But you sift through a few websites and read dozens of reviews and cross reference a few, settling on a few books. You could order them online, but there is no telling how bad things will get in that time. You don’t even know if you’ll find what you need in these books, but you need to try something. So you look for any local shops that may carry them. A shop in the next town carries most of the ones you’re looking for, and it opens in a few hours.

Now you just have to wait. Easier said than done, but having the lights on helps a bit. You don’t dare leave the “safety”  of your bed. When the sun rises and fills your apartment with light, you feel comfortable enough to get up and get dressed. You force yourself to eat some toast, though it just churns in your stomach as you finally exit your apartment. 

-0-0-0-0-0-

The bookstore is exactly what you would expect. Small, tucked away, cozy. It’s nestled between a clothing boutique and a deli. There is a string of bells hanging from the inside doorknob that jingles when you enter, alerting the shopkeep to your presence. You see the balding man in a sweater leaning around one of the many bookshelves stuffed tightly into the small space. 

“Hi there,” he greets you with a careful smile, “Is there something I can help you find?”

Your first instinct is to say “no”, embarrassed with your book choices, but then remind yourself that he will have to ring you up anyhow.

“Yes,” you mumble, pulling your phone out of your pocket and approaching him. He adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose as you near him, peering down at the list of books you had saved in your online shopping cart. “Do you have any of these?” 

The shopkeep nods quietly and leads you to a bookshelf against one of the side walls. You see many thick tomes of beautiful hues and many with glittering script on their spines. You’re entranced as the man starts pulling books from the tops of their spines, making a neat stack over his arm. 

“These are what we have from your list. Is there anything else I can help you with?” He asks politely, offering you a warm smile. There is no judgment in his gaze, only the happiness of potentially selling a handful of books in one go. You were sure small shops like this ran off of purchases like this, so you couldn’t help but be a little pleased; especially considering he was kind enough not to judge you on your reading choices or the bandages still wrapped around your head. You follow him to the counter to make your purchases and leave a few dollars in the basket at the front labeled “for the shop cat” with a picture of a fluffy orange and white feline.

You don’t want to return to your apartment yet, so instead you walk up the street to the cafe you had passed and order a drink, finding an armchair to nestle into as you pull one of the books from your bag.

-----

Previous Chapter x x x Next Chapter

This chapter sets a good tone for how a lot of this story will go. Demon!Maul is a BUTT, and basically just makes Reader’s life a living hell. A Haunty-Taunty-Butthead.

If you would like to read more of my work, you can check out my Masterlist or my AO3. If you would like to be added to my taglist, shoot me a message!

Taglist:

@eyecandyeoz @kimageddon @misogirl828 @mooremooo @always-on-tatooine​ @eloquentmoon​

#demon!maul #darth maul #spidermaul #maul x reader #darth maul x you #demon!maul x witch!reader #fanfic #fic writing #star wars #au #demon au #maulslittlemeowmeow

[bacarasbabe]

"maybe if i put something here i'll actually be motivated to write" YEAH MOOD 😂 also what is that? -🦎

(I started to answer this last night but got too sleepy 💕 sorry for the late reply) It's not that exciting unfortunately. Just the next chapter of Beat the Devil's Tattoo that's I guess on hiatus even though I can't stop thinking about it 🙈 idk. Anyway– here's your snippet 🤲

The thick yellowed pages feel like home between your fingertips. Traces of magic linger in the old tome, calling you to the section you seek almost at once. There it is.

Halfbite whines, furiously wagging her bushy tail while using the grimoire to rest her over large head on. Her endlessly black eyes look up at you, begging for pets. You relent almost instantly. Seeking the comfort of her weight on your lap and shaggy fur between your fingers.

"Do you think he even wants to talk to me?" There's something about the hell hound that makes you drop your guard. Speaking truths you normally keep hidden. A subtle magic you realize as you scratch her lovingly behind the ears. Halfbite replies to your question by thumping her tail loudly and nuzzling in closer.

"She's right, you know." Savage murmurs from his position on the sunken-in sofa. "You're stubborn. You both are– but your temper is much easier to deal with than his..." adding that last part under his breath.

WIP Game

#one day ill finish this beast #btdt #wip game #tess answers #🦎 anon #demon!maul x witch!reader

[bacarasbabe]

Beat the Devil's Tattoo - Prologue

<- Masterlist || Day 1 ->

[This work was edited on 8/14/2023]

Rating: M

Word Count: 1,400+

Pairing: Demon!Maul x Witch!Reader

Tags: Blood, witchcraft, demon, magic, mentions of contractual sex, making a deal with a demon

Notes: I want to thank all of my lovely mutuals and my beloved friends. All of you have always encouraged me and inspired me. Not only do I owe my original version of this story to you, but this updated version as well. You make me a better person and writer. 

I don’t have an update schedule for this story. I’m posting it as I see fit.  DM me if you want to be tagged or fill out this form. My original tag list is so old that I’d rather just redo it.

Chalk dust coats your fingertips, painting your clothing and skin. Ghostly trails of your absentminded touch. It doesn’t matter. In fact, it's the furthest thing from your mind as you meticulously focus all of your attention to the intricacies of the white lines that now crisscross the dark wood of your living room floor. Your area rug sits rolled up behind your couch, tucked out of the way to make room for the intimidating symbol. It’s the first time you’ve tried casting a summoning spell of this magnitude, both in power and size, so the details must be perfect. Every intricate line is double-checked as you practice the incantation in your mind. It takes some time, not nearly as long as the many hours it took you to draw the thing, but finally you’re satisfied. It’s by far your best work. It has to be, and not just because you had practiced the design for months. Any error you made now, the slightest deviation, even the smallest tremor in your hand as you drew the complex geometrical patterns, could end up costing you far more than what you were willing to sacrifice. 

Finished with the chalking, you move on to lighting the candles. Every wax pillar that’s been saved for ritual purposes like tonight, every seasonal candle for any holiday, every candle purchased with a two-for-one coupon has been dug out for tonight’s spell. Hopefully you don’t have any scents that clash with each other but there’s not much you can do about it now as you go from wick to wick. The sulfur smell of the match you use begins to stoke nostalgic feelings before they’re swiftly tamped down by nerves. It is very nearly the witching hour. Just a few minutes to go, enough time to place a circle of salt for protection around the soon to be portal.

Five minutes.

You close the box of salt but keep it near just in case. It’s unwise to show up to a casting without weapons of protection. The candles may be traditional but are also a precaution. The intention you set while lighting them adds protection and lends you strength from the energy you charged them with previously.

Four minutes.

You place offerings, bread you baked yourself, apples you picked by hand, mead you fermented in your home, inside the salt circle. A gift for the spirit you hope to summon. Another tradition-another precaution.

Three minutes.

You grab your ceremonial dagger. It’s cold and sharp. Perfect for what you need. You also grab a couple of Band-Aids. No sense in not being sanitary.

Two minutes.

The wait is excruciating. The seconds tick by like hours. Months of preparation, years if you wanted to get technical, all leading up to this moment.

One minute.

You place the pointed end of your dagger against your finger and press. Crimson blood begins to swell from the cut as you extend your hand out in front of you. Droplets fall to the floor, staining the white chalk red. The rest is camouflaged by the dark stain of the wood floor but you know the magic is working.

As the clock displayed on the screen of your phone reads midnight, swirls of thick smoke begin to rise from the blood on the floor. Setting the dagger back down you press your cut between two fingers, stopping the flow of blood. There’s nothing more for you to do at the moment except wait and see. Hopefully someone takes you up on your offer. You’re prepared to wait all night, longer if you have to. You don’t know if the spell even worked until a demon shows up or not. All of your hard work amounting to nothing–well the thought of that makes your stomach twist into knots. There’s no telling if anyone at all received your summons on the other side. 

They had.

The wait is quick. Far faster than you thought it would be. All the grimoires you had at your disposal had made sure to warn the caster that demons did not adhere to any mortal’s schedule. So when one moment you’re looking at the empty summoning circle, shadows flickering along the walls from the candle flames and the next you’re face to face with a hooded figure, separated by barriers of salt and magic and blood, your breath catches in your throat. The shadows move. Reaching with long fingers towards the being in the center of the circle, drawn to the demon as if being tempted. Even the flames flicker towards the creature. You feel the pull erging you along. Encouraging you to cross the lines of protection. Tempting you to let go, to be swept in the demon’s current and float down river to them. It’s common. This feeling, this pull or whatever you want to call it. Your grimoires had warned you of this as well. Demon’s use their magic to lure you to them without a pact of protection in place.

Bright crimson hands with dark lines of tattoos that flow past the wrists and disappear underneath their sleeves, reach up and pull back their hood obscuring their features. His angular face is just as red as his hands. The black, bold tattoos flow along the lines of his neck and accentuate his handsome face. You trace the flowing patterns with your eyes as they follow the line of his jaw, touching his lips, highlighting his nose, and paint the ridge of his cheeks. His yellow eyes, that are studying you just as intensely, are held in pools of black, until they flow upward still. They circle the many horns that adorn his brow. They mimic a crown, giving the demon a stately appearance. This is no lower-demon you’ve summoned. 

Perfect.

The terms of the contract are negotiated smoothly and efficiently. No small talk is wasted beating around the bush. When he asks you what you want out of the deal, the demon smirks and it sends a shiver down your spine. It settles low in your back and in the pit of your stomach. You know these nerves have manifested out of the air of intimidation the demon radiates. You’re well aware of how powerful this demon is, and what he could do to you given the opportunity. But there’s also anticipation. You want this. You’ve wanted this for a long time and finally, you’re about to make it a reality. “Power.” That’s your request, your demand. Speaking it out loud feels like there’s electricity on your lips. As soon as the thought crosses your mind the demon’s golden eyes drop to your mouth for the briefest moment. Heat begins to rise inside of you and you think you’re not the only one affected. The exchange will be–intimate. You settle on a time limit, one month, for both of you to fulfill the contract terms. He has one month to give you as much magical power as he can and at the end of it all, you’ll give him your soul.

You sign the contract quickly, reopening the wound on your finger from earlier. Blood soaks into the ancient paper, sealing your deal with the demon. You feel the magical pact slide into place between you and suddenly-everything feels right. Like wearing glasses for the first time, everything feels like it’s suddenly in focus. Almost as if you’ve been squinting, walking around half-blind until him. Until this pact. You toe the line of salt, breaking the line of protection that separates you from him. The demon can no longer harm you, or even touch you in any way that you don’t want or enthusiastically agree to. The contract is signed by both of you and there’s no getting out of it until the terms have been met.

“Now that the details have been taken care of,” the demon purrs as he begins to roll the contract up, stowing it safely away. “There’s no better time than the present to begin. Don’t you agree, my little witch?”

The urge to hide your face is strong but your pride is stronger. You knew what the process of the exchange of power would entail, but now that you’re here, face to face with it, poised on the precipice of everything you’ve wanted, you find yourself nervous. It was the way he was looking at you. Like he was ready to devour you. Ravenous.

“Um, you mean-”

“I’d like to begin my side of our pact now, yes.”

Masterlist

Tags: I don’t want to bather anyone this post so please let me know if you want to be tagged. Just dm me or fill out this form.

#beat the devil's tattoo #btdt #update #maul #darth maul #maul x reader #maul x you #demon!maul #witch!reader #demon!maul x reader #demon!maul x you #maul fanfic #star wars #star wars fan fic #star wars au #darth maul au