#savage opress x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mandos-mind-trick · 6 months

Text

Kinktober Day 13 - Size Difference

Summary: He’s just so big.

Pairing: Savage Opress x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, size difference, unprotected sex, established relationship, implied foreplay, Savage has a big dick, little bit of a praise kink, scratching, brief mention of blood.

A/N: Should I be writing on only five hours of sleep? Probably not but here we are. Not super proud of this one.

MASTERLIST

A whimper is pulled from your lips as you stare up at the hulking form above you. The wide head of his cock drags through your folds as he hovers above you. You stare up into his yellow eyes as they glow slightly in the low light. His horns stick out high and proud like a crown adorning his head. Even they are big and sharp, a warning and a threat.

A shiver runs down your spine, goosebumps forming on your skin as his hand runs down your stomach, sharp claws dragging across the delicate skin. He lets out a low sound, a deep rumbling in his chest as blood beads on the surface of your skin where his claws dug just slightly too deep. His other hand is wrapped around his cock, stroking the thick appendage. He’s hard and leaking, his fingers still shining with your juices.

Your hands grip the back of your thighs, opening yourself wider for him. His hand presses against your stomach as he drags the head of his cock through your folds once more. Your pussy clenches as another whimper falls from your lips. You stare up into his eyes, lips parted as he presses the head of his cock against your tight hole. Your body tenses in preparation for the intrusion, the painful stretch of his cock.

“Relax.” His voice rumbles through his chest, his hand applying more pressure to your stomach.

You take a breath, trying to relax as his head presses into you, the stretch burning as he forces his way into your tight pussy. Your hands grip the backs of your thighs as he presses further in, body trying to fight him despite how much you try to relax.

“‘S too big.” You whine, body clamping around him as he sinks deeper into you.

“You can take it.” He says, his thumb stroking the skin on your stomach.

You whimper as he presses even further, continuing to stretch you open. He’s slow going, easing into you as your body has no choice but to open for him, your eyes glued to where your pussy is stretched wide around his ribbed cock.

Your eyes roll back as he slips further in, his big hands wrapping around the backs of your knees. You let yourself go, going lax under him as he presses completely into you, hips flush with yours.

“That’s it.” He praises you, deep voice almost rumbling through your whole body as you relax around him.

“S-Savage!” You gasp as he applies pressure to your stomach, your pussy fluttering around him.

He lets out a sound like a growl, his cock twitching inside you. His hands slide down your thighs to your hips, taking hold of them before he begins to move, thrusting in and out of you slowly. Small noises leave your lips with every movement, his thick cock dragging along your walls. You can see it, the bulge of his cock within you with every thrust. His hands hold your hips tightly, pinning you to the bed as he uses your body.

The bed shakes with every thrust, your hands gripping the sheets desperately as the pleasure builds within you with every drag of his cock through your pussy. He growls and groans, nails digging into your skin as he fucks you. The pain is nothing new to you, only adding to the pleasure.

He bares his teeth in a snarl as you squeeze around him, your orgasm rapidly approaching. You reach up, sliding your hands up his arms to his shoulders, pulling him down closer to you. He folds his body over yours, his horns brushing the side of your head. The new position has his cock hitting a spot deep inside you, your legs shaking as you get closer and closer to your orgasm.

“‘M gonna cum!” You gasp, fingers digging into his shoulders.

He turns his head, lips brushing your ear. “Cum for me.”

Your eyes roll back as you cum, squeezing around his cock. He growls, his pace not faltering any as he fucks you through your orgasm.

Overstimulation begins to burn through you as he chases his own high, his hips slamming into yours at a bruising pace. You cling to him, your body trembling as you can do nothing but hang on for dear life.

He cums with a moan, nearly falling on top of you as he fills you with a groan. The feeling is almost too much, his cock twitching inside you as he spills into you. You cum a second time, writhing under him as you milk his cock.

He wraps his arms around you, rolling you over so you’re laying on top of him, his cock slipping from your pussy. You lay your head on his chest, his arms wrapping around you tightly. You’re going to be sore tomorrow, but you don’t care.

It’s always worth it.

Taglist:

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

#star wars #star wars fic #savage opress x reader #savage x reader #x reader #kinktober 2023

174 notes · View notes

thenightmarketofdathomir · 19 days

Text

The Offering (Savage Opress x Reader)

Pairing: Savage Opress x Reader (GN) Rating: M (Sexually suggestive) Word Count: 1,200ish Warnings: Food mention, use of the "c" word, mild voyeurism

Summary: A gesture of kindness for a king. A stolen moment. A treat.

He's a collection of paradoxes: the strongest of all the Nightbrothers, the last one to wield the ichor, the only remaining Champion. They called him a monster, and a brute, and all manner of ugly thing that say nothing of the way he cares for his kin — his brothers and his clan. It's only after you've spent months on Dathomir that you hear the reverent whispers about him: he's fiercely loyal, he's the protector of the small, and he'll never back down so long as those he treasures need to be defended.

He doesn't say an awful lot. Being Maul's enforcer is a twenty-four hour job, and there are only a few Savage would entrust to guard him in his stead while he takes his rest. At first you think it's because of one of Maul's diktats, but after watching the way Savage behaves, you soon realize that it's Savage's choice to stay close. Maybe he fears for Maul, or maybe Savage remembers those near-misses, growing up with a reckless, headstrong younger brother.

You deduce several things about him, however: he doesn't like court company, he rarely indulges in spirits, and he doesn't keep a string of lovers.

You don't understand why: you've seen him in Dathomiri fighting leathers. They're revealing: snug pants that cling to heavy thighs, matched vambraces with their clan crests, and nothing more than an oiled chest on the upper half, highlighting their Nightbrother markings. He never shies away from hard work — every grunt of effort when he lifts, and hunts, and trains with the other brothers are a revelation:

Savage wields a single-minded focus. No distractions.

The brothers respect him, but they keep their distance. You're not sure if that's his preference, or if he's just intimidating, but whatever his solitude suggests, it's intriguing. You would offer your company if you didn't think he'd reject your advances, but something suggests he needs more than someone keeping his bed warm.

Who cares for the person who cares for everyone else?

You're not sure. But you hope the position is available.

That's why you elect to catch him when he leasts expects the interruption. You intend it as a kindness — a token of your appreciation for working so diligently alongside Maul during Dathomir's restoration — but Nightbrothers are not used to receiving honour, and none of them enjoy being caught unawares.

You find him drying off in a small patch of sun after bathing in one of Dathomir's natural springs. His clothes are folded into a small pile on the stone beside him, and the way Domir's light falls across the small downturn of his mouth hints at other preoccupations that can't be washed away. Even with his eyes closed, a furrow notches his brow.

When you make your approach, you do so with nimble feet in absolute silence. Not a single snapped twig. Not a breath. You move like a shadow, spilling over the edge to place your offering atop the pile of zeyd cloth and slip away before he notices.

Savage sniffs. You can see the flare of his nostrils when he turns his head as if scenting your presence, a mass of hard, moving muscle lumbering to wakefulness, like a statue coming to life. He turns his head left, and from your hiding spot, you're confronted with the angular chisel of his jaw and the sliver of firelight in the gloom when he slits open his eyes.

His rumble of displeasure is rolling thunder when he sees the thing that's violated his respite:

A tiny, leaf-wrapped sweet from one of the food stalls in the market: a confection of candied brula, its toxins boiled off to leave the sweet and chewy bits that warm the hearts. Perfectly safe. Perfectly delicious.

He sniffs again, but your body tingles as the reserves of your bravery evanesce when he shakes off the sweet to collect his clothing. The wrapper opens as it rolls off, the treat wasted as it falls to the bog.

When Savage rises, naked, you freeze: locked to your hiding spot on your knees beneath the brush as he turns on the spot — giving you a perfect view of every line and every bulge, and if you weren't nervous before, you're nervous now... seeing how his cock hangs heavy between his legs.

Maybe there’s a reason he doesn’t take lovers. Maybe the reason he’s intimidating isn’t just the obvious station and stature and cadence, his family and his position. Maybe that’s part of the curse the Nightsisters left on him when he was changed:

To be so different that none would dare try to love him.

But the reason it scares you is the reason you remain intrigued, heart hammering against your ribs like a bird in a cage —

And when his smouldering gaze picks you out from between the gnarl of trees, you remain rooted, stock-still and terrified that you’ve been seen — the hunter and its prey across from each other, with nothing between them but the promise of a failed escape if you try to run.

“I smell your fear, little one.”

His amusement is self-deprecating, edged with the knowledge that you’re bested before you’ve even begun, but the fact that he stands before you still, alone and unadorned, is the reason you don’t.

He turns away, picking up his clothes, his gaze shuttering. The crown of his horns bows when he lowers his head, withdrawing from that beam of sun that angles through the trees in the effort to catch him. It fails.

His voice is the mountains, the swamp, the rumble of distant storms of the horizon —

“Go now. I won’t tell anyone.”

Your ankles tangle, but you listen to your own self-preservation this time, and this time, you run.

It’s not until you’ve reached a safe distance in the gnarl of the grave thorn groves where the funerary pods rock gently in the breeze that you pause, turning back to see if he’s followed.

He has not, but you see him through a gap between the branches — hesitating in the distance over at the gift you left him. He appears to be staring at it, and when Savage bends to collect the little offering with the tips of his claws, there’s no mistaking the way his frown deepens when he unwraps it. Examining. Checking for poison with a sniff. Surprise registering with a lift of his brow bones.

A glance over his shoulder leaves you hunkering lower, your stomach twisting as he unfolds the little waxy package, lips pursed as he sniffs it, and if your limbs aren’t shaking, your heart slamming against your ribcage, the sweet vanishes between his lips.

The face that rises to the red sky overhead is perplexed, but softening with the sag of those huge shoulders as he relaxes, eyes shutting briefly as the crunch of his teeth echoes through the trees as if he were chewing bones and not a treat, but pleasure is something you’ve never expected to see on those fearsome features.

Your stomach tightens. Your palms sweat. Your breath is shaky, having stolen this little secret:

And you know, all of a sudden, what Savage looks like when he’s surrendered to desire.

#Savage Opress #Savage Opress Fanfic #Savage Opress x Reader #Savage Opress x You #if I miss a tag lmk.

59 notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 2 months

Text

pairing: savage opress x reader

summary: savage stands at a lumbering 7'1, and he likes comparing the size of your body to his own.

contents: size kink size kink size kink size kink size kink. smut, minors dni, afab!reader, obvious implications of reader being shorter/smaller than savage but i'm betting most of you aren't seven feet tall and absolutely jacked so i feel like it's pretty inclusive to both height and weight

Even sitting down, Savage is a formidable height. Only aided by his crown of horns, lethally sharpened all except for the one that's chopped in half, he stands at 7 foot 1 inch, which is significantly taller than yourself. Equally disproportionate to yourself are his hands, which frame your hips and mold so perfectly to the skin there that you think they could affix themselves there permanently.

He could if he would. He lets out a low, rumbling, appreciative groan at the sight of your ass rocking back onto his lap, and though his bulge is still clothed, you fear it's going to rip through the fabric restraining it. The sensation of his covered cock rubbing roughly against your sensitive folds makes you whimper, and you yearn for nothing more than to shred his clothing and sink down onto his dick. Unfortunately, he's got the claws. They're arched elegantly against your skin, their points sure to leave marks that will eventually even out to your smooth skin in a few days. Savage never marks the same spot twice in a row, but he prefers having remnants of his claws on you at all times.

Your lack of penetration settles an ache deep inside of your core; a throbbing pain that can only be sated with the equally massive length that lies stiff between Savage's legs.

"Oh, darling," His voice is rough, dripping with greed and reverence as he helps you grind back onto his dick. He watches as your slickened cunt leaves a glistening trail over his clothing, a mark that soaks into the fabric and leaves his dick stinging with want.

"You move so well," He praises, like the gyration of your hips isn't equally his effort and your own. He's holding you up while the blood rushes to your head; your hands are braced against the floor while he rolls your ass over his bulge. It's a difficult position to maintain, but the dizziness that you're experiencing while you dangle from Savage's lap makes your internal waves of pleasure stronger. This lustful ecstasy is so much better without thinking involved; only the steady, persistent grinding of Savage's clothed cock over your needy cunt.

"Savage-" You manage to spout, your own voice marled by your less-than-comfortable position, "Savage I want- mmh!" You feel him press your hips further down onto his cock, the rugged, damp material of his clothes pressing against your clit, "-I want you! Now, please- please, I want you inside of me."

"You're not ready," Savage laments, because a man seven feet off of the ground sports more inches than is manageable for a human like yourself between the legs, "Patience, darling. I will get you ready."

"Just- aah! Just the tip, please," You beg, dangling by his feet, nails scrabbling against the floor.

Savage goes momentarily quiet after your request, but you feel something hot and wet lave over your spine- teeth sink into the broad expanse of your back and you whimper at the pain-pleasure-pain.

"If you want it darling-" He purrs, his voice and breath heating the back of your neck as one, "You may have it."

There's the rustle of fabric being rumpled, then a distinctly slick sound that can only mean Savage is leaking, precum oozing from the tip of his cock that you want to lick into your mouth. You lurch forwards, attempting to scramble off of his lap to take his cock into your mouth, but he catches your weight with one firm hand, locking it over your hip bone.

"Not now. Now I want to see your ass," He hisses, licking his thumb and teasing it at the tight ring of your asshole that he can barely catch a glimpse of from the way your pussy is spread with your legs, "I want to watch your ass bounce while you grind on my cock. While your human cunt tries sucking up as much of me as it can. While you try spearing yourself on me."

His mere words have you cunt clenching around nothingness; terrible, empty, aching nothingness. Savage sees it, guiding the head of his cock towards your desperate folds. They're slick, and they'd allow for a sizeable portion of his length to sink into their warmth. But you'd hung yourself with the words just the tip, and Savage intends to give you exactly what you've asked for.

He teases the head of his cock against your slit, watching as your hole tightens and begs for more. It's producing a lewd squelching sound, skin on skin lubricated by what must be a gallon of slick wetness at this point. He strokes the length of himself with a nimble hand as he resumes bouncing your ass on his lap, letting the head of his cock breach your agonizingly needy pussy with tantalizingly little depth.

"There, darling," He purrs once again, voice rough like velvet stroked the wrong way, "Just the tip. Is that what you want?"

"No! No," You feel the painstakingly shallow breach of his dick through your slick slit, fruitlessly wriggling your hips as he keeps gyrating them, "No, please, Savage- please, I want more!"

"You are not ready," He repeats, voice sadistic more than it was empathetic before as he keeps teasing his cockhead against your core, "Keep moving, my love, and I will decide when you deserve to be filled."

#savage opress x reader #savage opress smut #savage opress imagine #savage opress fanfiction #savage opress drabble #savage opress blurb

68 notes · View notes

kaminokatie · 9 months

Text

We Meet Again || Darth Maul

Synopsis - It's been years since you had last seen him, but now you're fighting for the opposite side. Can Maul convince you to join him again after years of brainwashing from the Jedi?

Warnings - SFW.

Word Count - 0.9k.

[Caffeinate Me]

“You never even came to find me,” Maul hissed at you, red lightsaber clashing against your own green one.

“I was told you were dead,” you snapped back. You twirled around and used the force to push Maul backwards giving yourself an opportunity to relax before he was swinging at you again.

“You could have tried,” he growled. “Instead you joined what we swore to destroy together!”

“I had no choice!” You said angrily.

“We always have a choice Y/N,” Maul snapped. He was hurting inside. “You just chose wrong!”

“If I knew you were alive, I would have done anything to find you,” you said, stepping backwards and turning off your lightsaber. Maul looked at you completely perplexed as you laid your lightsaber on the ground and held your hands up.

“What are you doing?” He asked, still standing in a defensive stance.

“Laying down my weapon, Maul,” you said simply.

“But why?” He hissed. “Pick it up, I’m not through with you yet.”

“Yes you are. I’m not fighting you anymore, Maul. If you want to kill me, go ahead.”

Maul shook his head, retracting his lightsaber and staring at you with wide eyes. This had to be some sort of trick, something Kenobi had set up. Using you as bait was a low blow, but something he wouldn’t put past the Jedi. After all these years of working with the Jedi, you must have told them the details about the nature of your relationship with him. He placed his lightsaber back on his hilt and outstretched his hand to you. “Killing you would only kill me,” he whispered softly. “Take my hand. Join me once more.” You bit your lip, hesitated for a moment. You had spent the last few years of your life dedicating yourself to the Jedi after all the wrongdoings you had done by Maul’s side. After you learned of his ‘death’ you hoped you could put that life behind you, but with the Zabrak standing in front of you very much alive, you highly doubted yourself to turn him down. His yellow eyes gazed into yours and you felt your heartbeat pick up a few paces as Maul walked towards you, hand still outstretched. “Think about what we had Y/N.”

“I am!” You snapped, taking a few steps backwards. “It wasn’t good for either of us.”

“You don’t mean that,” he whispered, still stalking towards you. “You were my stars in the galaxy, the light that guided my way. Please, come with me. I need you. Please.”

How could you deny him when he begged so deliciously for you and only you. You sighed and closed your eyes slowly for a few seconds while you thought long and hard about what you were going to do. Images from your past flashed through your mind; your time with Maul, the good and the bad. It clouded your senses and you were sure this was Maul’s doing. When you opened your eyes, Maul was standing directly in front of you. His breath, short and shallow, fanned across your face. His eyes pleaded to you silently. “What do you want from me, Maul?” You asked, knowing the answer was damn well you.

“You know what I want,” he whispered, leaning his face closer to yours. Your breath hitched in your throat as his lips skimmed your own, making their way to your ear. “I can’t live without you by my side any longer. Not after seeing you again.”

You felt your knees buckle at his words, despite how simple they were. You believed him too, knew he was being truthful. His hand grazed your waist gently, pulling you closer to his body. You willingly leaned into his touch. It had been years since someone had touched you the way Maul was touching you now, as if you were glass that could be broken with a simple flick of the wrist. “Maul,” you whispered, your chest rising and falling sharply with each breath you took.

“I know,” he cooed, face moving to be in front of yours once more. Without warning, Maul pressed his lips to yours quickly. His warm hands came up to cup your face gently, pulling your face as close to his as possible. You stiffened as his lips connected with yours as the thoughts swirled around in your mind: what were you doing! You couldn’t let him get to you. Couldn’t let him ruin what you’d worked so hard for since you had last seen him, but it was too late, your arms had already instinctively wrapped around his neck. Maul smirked against your lips and deepened the kiss, his hands dropped to your waist and grasped at the fabric that separated him from your bare skin. When he pulled away from the kiss, Maul pressed his forehead against yours and sighed contently. “Join me, baby.” Your heart clenched at the pet name. Maul knew exactly what to say and do to turn you to the Dark Side and you hated that. You wished you were strong enough to resist him, but when he looked at you the way he was looking at you right now, you couldn’t say no. You nodded your head and Maul smirked. He moved his forehead away from yours and pressed a kiss to your right temple. “I’ve missed you, my love,” he whispered against your head, pulling you into a sweet embrace.

“I’ve missed you too,” you whispered into his chest. It was then that the tears welled in your eyes. All the emotions came flooding back to you, emotions that you had kept buried for years. Your place was by his side; you knew it and so did he. He wasn’t going to let you get away from him again, no matter what it took.

166 notes · View notes

wanderinggoldenwaffles · 5 months

Text

Big tall beefy scary villainous Star Wars boyfriend privileges? I think the fuck yes!!

109 notes · View notes

yandere-wishes · 5 months

Text

Savage deserves to have a Nightsister darling. A little witch who's soul he can crush and mold into his perfect little sweetheart. Don't get me wrong, Savage is the nicest sith/zabrak out there. But I'm convinced he wants to get some revenge on the nightsisters for the hell they put him and the rest of his kin through.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yandere x you #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars headcanons #yandere aesthetic #savage opress #savage opress x reader #savage x reader #yandere savage #yandere savage opress #darth maul #darth maul x reader

65 notes · View notes

obscure-imaginations · 1 year

Note

How would react Maul, Savage and Feral if during training, his "very close friend " accidently put their hand on his " no no zone" ? They are very embarresed and apologies a lot.

I'll do you one better. How would the Opress boys react to accidentally getting kicked in the no-no zone during training? By a crush, no less? SFW but suggestive!

Feral yelps out an "oh!" as he drops to his knees, holding on for dear life. He then groans and curls up in the fetal position. He accepted the first apology you gave, but you wouldn't know that- talk to him later, he's gonna be lying here for a while. The pain faded after a few minutes, but he's gonna keep lying here, holding his junk, hiding his hard-on because he just discovered something about himself and he needs time to process.

Savage manages to stay upright. At first, you think he's unaffected but go to apologize anyways- but he interrupts you with a squeak akin to air being let out of a balloon. He then slowly bends at the waist, clutching his family jewels and glaring at the floor. "Don't apologize, that's a good defensive move." he manages to say. His face is flushed blue as he waves you off. Eventually he stands upright again, and mumbles "Let's move on."

Maul lets out a yell as he stumbles backwards, clenching his fists and hissing as he attempts to stay upright. "I am indifferent to pain!" he says but it's clearly a lie in an attempt to soothe himself. He eventually relents to sit down and go through the stages of grief for a little while. After his recovery, he stands up and asks you to stick to the training regiment for now, but keep that trick in mind for a real battle. He then compliments your kicking form.

#this made me laugh #poor boys #star wars #star wars x reader #darth maul #maul opress #savage opress #feral opress #darth maul x reader #maul opress x reader #savage opress x reader #feral opress x reader

242 notes · View notes

dukeoftheblackstar · 9 months

Text

ρℓσ кσσи αят:

Wine Daddy Plo: I, II,

Plo Expressions: I, II,

Plo & The Wolves: I,

PloDuch (oc) Art: I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII,

Home by amorfista — a state of being, a state of mind, a state of feeling, a state with you.

¢αѕтιѕ ναкαяιαи αят:

Castis Vakarian, A Turian Study: I, II, III, IV, V, VI,

Commissioned art by moonmo0n and, scent.2002 [ please do not repost ] Dividers and banners by saradika, dystopicjumpsuit, idontgetanysleep

Plo Koon x OC / Reader : Somewhere Only We Know

You kept your friendship with Plo and though your heart bleeds for him, as it beats only for him, you decide to yet again express your desire to act in spite and avenge your most favorite Kel Dor in the galaxy. Only to be reminded of something else. "Right Here" - Part II -> Depression strikes and you're at the medcenter.

Savage Opress x OC / Reader : Come Away With Me

Fic dedicated to a friend, @amorfista ♥ To endure is to be patient ; the unnerving circus of a concept that for him to be angry, for him to bestow upon you this carnal need of fury, he would first have to care about you.

[ρℓσ∂υ¢н] [ OCxPlo Koon Series] : єℓє¢тяι¢ ℓσνє

Fic dedicated to my Plo Koon bestie @saengak ♥ Chapter 1: The Invite <- <- <- Ziar Koon, Plo Koon's father, is hosting a celebratory gathering to commemorate the newly established hatchery as part of rebuilding Mother Dorin after a separatist attack a year ago. That said, Plo Koon is expected to be at the event and with you being the known closest to Plo, he is expected to have you by his hand during the ceremony.

ℓσνє, ι gυєѕѕ - ρℓσ кσσи χ σ¢/яєα∂єя [ w o r m ] | ρℓσ∂υ¢н

мσяиιиgѕ ωιтн ρℓσ кσσи - ρℓσ кσσи χ σ¢/яєα∂єя | ρℓσ∂υ¢н

αѕк!ρяσмρт: αℓтєяиαтινєѕ - ρℓσ кσσи χ тιмι∂!fєм!яєα∂єя

яєρєит ωιтн ∂σм!ρℓσ кσσи - αѕкρяσмρт - ∂σм!ρℓσ кσσи x яєα∂єя

ѕαтυяиιиє - ρℓσ кσσи χ fєм!яєα∂єя

99 notes · View notes

eldritch-horror-from-the-void · 7 months

Note

YAY! Requests are open! 🥹

Ooooh Savage Opress and a fem reader who has bad periods to the point of not wanting to eat the first day. I mean on Dathomir the males and females are separate so I wonder what he will think about it? Imagine him like sensing or detecting the aroma of blood first thing and going all- ACT FIRST…ask questions…maybe?😂 in the typical savage fashion

AHHHH! Thank you for sending this! As someone who’s suffered from heavy PCOS symptoms, I can pull from personal experience.

Enjoy our sweet, big yellow Zabrak!

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You walk into the living room where Savage is sitting.

You had slowly, painfully, pulled yourself out of the bedroom because obviously you wanted some attention from your favorite Zabrak, it was going to be a long day.

You just got up hardly 10 minutes ago, only to find you started your period. You were already prepared. Physically, anyway.

Of course, despite Savage being busy with a datapad, he knows you’re there, he’s just distracted.

It takes a whole 3.4 seconds max for him to smell the blood from the distance he’s at, then shoot up from his seat.

You jump back, because wtaf? You weren’t expecting that-

He basically stomps towards you in a panic, looking you over for any clear Injuries.

“Are you hurt? I smell blood, I’ll get the medikit-“

Before you can respond, he’s already sprint past you, and you have to follow his ass into the bathroom.

You lean against the door frame, already exhausted. You definitely didn’t want to chase around a man who’s at least 2 full feet taller than you are.

He’s scrounging around in a panic for a medikit, barely noticing your presence.

You interrupt his scrounging to explain that you’re just menstruating, and that you came out for comfort, and attention. Not because you were dying.

He stares at you totally blank because what in the Sith Hells is “menstruation”?

Whatever that is, Zabraks don’t have the same functions. Even if they did, how would he know?

The word sounds roughly familiar. Did he read about it somewhere?

You roll your eyes at his dumb expression, and go to lay down on the bed. You definitely don’t have energy for this.

It takes way too damn long for him to piece it together, it’s like a bad comedy skit.

When he finally comes into the bedroom, he gently asks, “Do you want something to eat, or drink?”

You’re tempted to ask for food, but right now it just doesn’t feel right. Pain, nausea, or an upsetting mix of both stop you from asking. In any case, eating sounds like a death sentence.

You grumble out a “No. Not feeling good.” before getting more comfortable with the blankets.

Savage thinks for a moment. You’re clearly in pain, and when he’s in pain, he usually meditates if he’s not being tended to by a droid. Right now might not be the best time for that…

He comes to the conclusion that cuddles are a necessity.

He doesn’t even ask you if you want to cuddle, he just climbs in.

You’re annoyed because why the hell is he bothering you?

You stop your wordless complaining when he snuggles you from behind, and brings one of his huge hands down to your abdomen.

This man is like a 7-foot-tall, walking, talking heating element. He feels so good.

Despite not wanting to move from the cozy position you’re already in, you shift around to snuggle him back. Warmth envelops your body, and you can’t help but relax.

That’s when the purring starts.

And damn this whole man is like a massage chair given life.

Content enough to grow tired, you drift off.

When you wake up a couple hours later, you notice he’s not in bed.

Looking to the other side of the room, he’s standing there, stretching.

It takes him a moment to notice you.

“Oh- I was going to make you something, you have not eaten yet today. Sorry if I woke you…”

He literally sounds so sweet, and genuinely upset with himself just for waking you up.

“No, it’s fine.”

A soft grunt, “Is there something you want to eat? I can make it for you.”

You think about it, still unsure, but the offer is so kind, it’s hard to refuse.

You tell him what exactly it is you want.

It takes a while for him to finish, but by the time you hear the clanking of dishes die down, you know he’s almost done.

Like the sweetheart he is, he comes back into the bedroom with a smile on his face, food in hand.

To say the least, Savage is a damn good cook.

I hope this fit the bill, anon! 💗

#savage headcanons #savage opress x reader #savage opress #star wars x reader #answered asks #I could have just made a whole proper fic for this lmao but oh well

51 notes · View notes

codenameredkrystalmatrix · 3 months

Text

Another Life

Perhaps parts of us die, but revival is all the more fulfilling for it.

A shape bounded across the crags in superhuman leaps. His roar startled the local wildlife out of their hiding places. Pants for air mingled with the early morning mist. It was brisk out, as chilling as his aura. The minimal light brought to bear hints of his rigidity in feature. His eyes burned with the hue of all the suns that had never smiled on him.

He was hated.

He was feared.

In trying to take a step forward, his body locked. Savage, after 5 hours of training (or rather, trying to pound the ghosts in his mind with his fists), had reached his limit. His legs buckled. Now on the ground and slumped against a tree, he stared at bloodied hands.

He was nauseated.

Just as that very first day under Count Dookou, he felt his frame crumble. Without the resentment driving him forward, he was no longer sure why he trained. Still moving in that way without the purpose behind it was to live as the undead.

His breath condensed, translucent tendrils rising and becoming lost among an invisible, infinite sea of particles. The world had a lighter tint, blue-grey and so very cold. The silhouette of the forest canopy drifted slightly in the breeze. The damp of the forest floor reached under his skin.

Stillness....

...but for the wind rustling the leaves...

...and the occasional caw among the trees....

The rage faded to a soul-sucking numbness. He would end things for the moment.

Walk.

To hands and knees. Then he staggered to his feet, and took a deep breath. One foot at a time.

Walk.

His body grudgingly obeyed.

Thump.

Another breath, another step.

Thump.

Boots dragged, heaved, stumbled past tree trunks, logs and scampering creatures, past wide-eyed faces to a little hut at the edge of the town. His fingers fumbled around the door's handle and guided it open.

The scent of caf and roasting meat permeated his senses. The hissing of the Dark Side, the biting air and the lingering resentment had no place within those walls. That old, painful skin they formed around his being began to slip. A breath left his lungs, and he stepped beyond the threshold.

Warmth. Quiet. Darker than the outside.

You moved about at the dining table, wearing an apron while setting the table. From the moment you looked up, you could guess at what kind of morning it had been. He still looked a little wild. You kept your voice low for a soothing effect.

"Take a shower, and we'll have breakfast, ok?"

You were not a threat. You weren't ordering him. Crossing the room in three strides, he stood behind and embraced you, the pads of his fingers pressing into your waist.

"Thank you."

He nuzzled your neck to remember your scent. Citrus, muted with something mild and fresh. You were soft. The arm reaching up to caress his jaw reminded him you were kind. His pulses, finally, slowed down. You wouldn't hurt him. You never did.

"Thank you." He breathed, a low, continuous rumble starting from his chest.

"Of course, my love. Now you..."

You turned, lifted his face with both hands, and looked into slightly-glazed eyes. "...should go freshen up. I'll be here."

Pecking his lips elicited a small sigh from him. "Promise me."

Longing, a dash of humour, and...fear. You wondered if, sometimes, he felt like he was walking in a dream.

"I promise."

After a few more moments, he left for his quarters. The hot water soaked him and refreshed his body. His mind could wander to lighter things. He remembered spending hours inside the fresher when he'd first arrived, in shock that he could just...stand there without urgency- and that he could be truly clean. Flying around the galaxy did not afford such pleasures.

After he dried himself and changed, he joined you in the dining room. As you said you would, you'd laid food out for you and him. The tension in his body loosened, and he could savour each flavour of the meal. He took the dishes and washed up once the both of you were finished.

His glances outside looked weary. Maybe he'd like something different. "Do you want to stay i-woah!"

You laughed as you found yourself slung over his shoulder and on the way to his room. Unbeknownst to you, a soft smile was dawning on his face at the fact that you weren't resisting.

Laying you on the bed, he rested his face on your stomach and wound his arms around your middle. (He wouldn't confess it, but that was one of the reasons he'd filed his horns low.)

You moved your hands along his shoulders, kneaded his neck, then moved to his upper back. On the golden and inky canvas, scars lurked. Long since having learned their contours, your hand traced gashes, puncture wounds and burns alike

The warmth permeating your little hut had finally found a hold inside him, welcoming him home. Being lulled by your touch, Savage closed his eyes. In this new world- this new life...

He was cuddled.

He was kissed.

He was held.

He was loved.

#savage opress x reader #savage opress #star wars #the clone wars #domestic fluff #fluff #light angst

20 notes · View notes

bacarasbabe · 9 months

Note

Hiiiiiiii, so happy! Can I ask about Savage + 2 ☆ { putting } a hand over their mouth to be quiet, from the smut prompts? Only if it’s something you’d find interesting!

Ohmygod talk about another amazing request 😩 I had so many ideas for this one too. So you get two fics 💕 Idk what it is but I've really been in the mood for more Savage recently. Thank you for the request and I hope you like what I wrote!

5 Sentence Fic Requests

The gasp you cry is punched from your gut, escaping before you’re able to gain control of your body once more.

It echoes down the hall, painting the smooth walls in the sounds of your staccatoed breaths while simultaneously giving away the topic of your private conversation, to anyone who overhears, with the man who’s currently pressed flush to your core.

Savage stills momentarily, pinning you to the same traitorous wall with his hips and kisses your swollen lips, a request to be quiet, before he thrusts resume.

Again, you’re unable to hold back the cry that erupts from your chest, so Savage resorts to replacing his mouth with the palm of his hand, gently yet firmly covering the lower half of your face.

“Come on my cock, little one, then I’ll take you back to my chambers where you can be as loud as you want.”

From your knees, the height difference between the two of you is greatly pronounced.

Savage towers over you, caging you underneath and between his legs as you work his leaking cock with your kiss-swollen lips and spit slicked hands.

He looks desperate, golden eyes half lidded, knees bent as if he was about to collapse to the floor.

You suck the bead of precum from the head of his cock and Savage keens loudly.

He cuts his cry off, smothering his mouth with his own hand in an attempt to control himself.

#this was so much fun to write #five sentence fic #5 sentence fics #star wars #savage opress #savage #savage x reader #savage opress x reader #savage x you #savage opress x you #botherbother-blog

57 notes · View notes

butts-art · 1 year

Text

Champion Sketch of Savage and someone very close to him

#star wars #savage opress #savage opress x y/n #savage opress x reader #sketch #butt art

174 notes · View notes

thenightmarketofdathomir · 8 days

Note

" I need three full days" had me 👀💦 mountain man take me by the hand! 😂

Oh my gosh and feral, the way you write him with that very natural rizz. I love it so much.

And maul. The way you write him is so deliciously dark and tempting. ❤️❤️❤️

I just hold my phone and swoon every time I read your work.

Compliments aren't necessary to get more work out of me, but occasionally it can be quite effective. Thanks for this.

A couple of scenarios I've thought about maybe a bit too much:

Three Brothers/Three Dates Pairings: Feral x Reader (gn), Savage Opress x Reader (gn), Maul x Reader (f!) Rating: Mature Warnings: Sexually suggestive/nothing explicit

Feral: Tell him something is forbidden and he'll make it his prerogative to investigate. He's not afraid to show you the former Nightsister Lair (boarded over), the broken altar (definitely off-limits), and the ring of tombs belonging to the former Mothers (decidedly not on the tourist brochure.) Says he'll keep you safe from the dark things that dwell beneath the mountain when he spreads out a romantic picnic, the light from the pools of ichor painting everything grey and green. Glow worms cling to the ceiling in the caves. It's quiet. It's private. It's just you two, alone in a place where only the bravest Nightbrothers bring their paramours for a little light necking. You nestle closer, certain he'll protect you, and you never mention a thing when he threads his fingers through yours -- even if they're sweating a little.

Savage: All about reviving Nightbrother culture in the aftermath of Maul's return. Traditionalist. Book of Shadows Thumper. Set on reclaiming everything that was lost "so that younger generations can learn from what we've endured." Knows every inch of Dathomir from the Dreaming River to the Whispering Caverns, up to the highest peaks where Gorgara once nested. Loves a stroll through places most treacherous -- the highest gorges, the steepest canyons -- mostly because he enjoys the feeling of your body pressed to his, breathless and dizzy from the view as you clutch at him. Savage likes holding your hand and helping you across the stones and broken trees that litter the forests, showing you the parts of his people's history that are still thriving despite all odds. It's part of him -- he says its transformative, and there's something magical in the way his firebright gaze catches the Domir's rays, overlooking it all with his arm around your waist. He sees Dathomir's potential. He believes in it with a fervour, and it's catching, because you can almost see his vision when he points out where he'll build your house someday -- right there in the valley of those mountains -- with his own two hands.

Maul: Has never been one for public displays, but like the shadow he is, the glide of his body around yours from engagement to conversation is a dance that leaves you dizzied with yearning for him -- and there's no question to whom you belong: he's never far, circling you like a binary star as the night's revels turn to enticements beyond the dining and the music and conversation. The syndicate presence on Dathomir offers many diversions, and it's not all work as one would have you believe. Evenings are for revelry as much as they are making new business dealings, enjoying the spoils of your efforts across the galaxy in secrecy. And he is the perfect consort: swathed in black fineries that reveal his Nightbrother markings. Long robes and a trim waist, and you are dressed to match him -- a subconscious effort to claim your place at his side, perhaps, but it's his penumbral presence that really stakes a claim. Those small gestures and possessive touches to your elbow, your shoulder, the small of your back as the night falls over the mountains are the most telling -- leaving you firebright with wanting when the graze of fingertips across your palm turn teasing, his breath on the back of your neck, his murmured promises for later when you'll be alone with him once more. No one dares interrupt your private tete a tetes between flutes of champagne, and yet everyone notices the way his gaze smoulders when he watches you take little sips of that sparkling liquid -- as if he knows intimately the feeling of such a tender press of flesh to something so cold and unyielding.

#if Feral's palms are sweating it's because of you.#get it? see what I did there? yup.#feral opress #feral opress x reader #feral orpess x you #feral (star wars)#feral (star wars) x reader #darth maul #savage opress #darth maul x reader #savage opress x reader #darth maul x you #maul x you #maul x reader

35 notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 2 months

Text

if anyone has any nasty thoughts about the opress brothers now would be the time to send them

#darth maul x reader #maul opress x reader #savage opress x reader #feral opress x reader

22 notes · View notes

irenadel · 7 months

Text

Fear Leads the Way ch.3

Filthy smut ahead, now with more blood kink. Mentions of slavery. Some unhealthy power dynamics because DUH. Darth Maul x Reader and I think we can finally admit Savage Opress x Reader. He doesn’t like it tho. He will NOT go gentle into that good night.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

The first time Maul cries in pain in your arms Savage sees red and thinks he will, at long last, be able to kill you. And you think you might let him.

It had taken weeks and weeks to get there and it wasn’t Maul who pushed through. The moment you had agreed to hold him at night it had seemed to be enough for Maul. As if all he had required to be content was for you to stop fighting his ownership of you. As if he knew once you did, you’d have nothing left but him.

You were no longer confined to their quarters… and admittedly no longer afraid to leave them lest you be punished the way you’d heard unruly pleasure slaves were. It was a strangely lonely experience though. You had even less to do than before, focusing solely on what was required of you by the Zabrak brothers (never Savage’s own cybernetics, no matter how much you winced at hastily laid out circuits and patched up nerve arrays, Maul was an excellent mechanic, but no biomechanical engineer) and you have to admit it may have been driving you a little insane. You used to do small tasks now and again for the syndicates: emergency procedures, hydraulic adjustments, little hacking jobs… part of you still hoping to save up enough to buy your freedom the way you’d heard some Hutt slaves still did. You’d worked for whoever would pay and sometimes whoever would not, as some of the higher ups in the Shadow Collective had decided to consider you at their general beck and call, so long as it didn’t interfere with your duties to Lord Maul.

Not anymore.

You are so indisputably Maul’s now that you wonder how you could have ever thought you were his before.

You never heard him announce it but somehow everyone seems to know and now they give you a wide berth. The Black Suns who used to sneer at you avoid making eye contact and the few Hutt emissaries that remain to try to make peace with the Shadow Collective have resorted to offering Maul a nicer, prettier bedslave. Maybe a more comely one, lither, less used up. You try not to show how you bristle at that. The Mandalorians, about as terrifying as the Sith Lords themselves, stand aside respectfully when you pass them by (you try not to think about how often you do pass one because you don’t want to acknowledge how much you’re being watched). For their part, the Pykes seem oddly pleased at the strange turn of events their little gift has produced, yet still continue their refusal to acknowledge you. That you understand. You were little more than a thing to them, and it was bitter, to have ended up here anyway, despite your best efforts. It tasted like copper and rage when you let yourself think about it too much, like a storm inside you brewing the desire to make someone, anyone, pay for this… and whenever you did and he was nearby, you saw Lord Maul glance your way, like a trained Tatooine massiff picking up the scent of blood.

In those moments, regardless of whatever else he might be doing, he would gesture for you to come near and would take your hand and hold it to his face, to his lips, almost smiling.

He didn’t look at you. He didn’t address you. But he kept you close, no chains, no locks, nothing else necessary to hold you but the sheer gravity of his presence. You hated it as much as you loved it.

You hated when he sneered at the Hutt party’s sniveling suggestions of an upgrade and you felt your stomach clench in fury and vindication. You hated the beautiful black gowns he kept leaving for you near the fresher, because you hadn’t seen fabric so heavy and fine and good since even before the war. Your mother had never had anything as beautiful as these. You held them to your face and refused to cry or tear them to pieces, you just put them away and continued to wear your old mechanic jumpsuit.

You didn’t hate lying beside him at night, no matter how much it stung your pride… but you did hate how touch seemed to be all he wanted from you. There had been no further amorous interludes after the first two, not in this bed, not the moment that Maul found out he could have the whole expanse of his arms and back and chest and neck touched at his pleasure. He had demanded that immediately and you had complied, and in your terrible fear of servitude and vulnerability you had never even imagined that touch was all that would pleasure him indeed. Or that it would be you, who would end up needing more, longing for his growls against your ear and the frantic grinding of his hips against yours. You didn’t hate his imperious commands for your hands, never detailed, never more than once, as if his dignity would not allow it (no thought to yours, ground to dust already by your humiliating longing for him). But you did hate how eagerly you jumped to obey and provide him all he wanted. Enough for Lord Maul but not for you and more than enough for his brother, who still slept fitfully besides you, always attentive to whatever noises the two of you would make. You couldn’t have ever known how right his vigilance had been.

Maul sighed and you could feel Savage about to jump out of his skin. Maul growled gravelly in his sleep, contentedly against the crook of your neck and you could almost feel Savage waiting to pounce. You had expected many things from your fate as his possession, but not this constant vigil.

You hadn’t expected to be so uncomfortably starved for his affection.

In all the stories you had heard whispered in Nar Shadda, in all your years as a refugee, making cybernetics for the poor and the destitute like you, living so close to slavery you could almost feel the bite of a Zygerrian collar or a Hutt implant, you had never imagined you’d be the one wondering when you would be kissed next. Or that you could hold someone so close you could feel twin hearts beating and still want more, need more, in spite of your terror and resentment of him.

The problem was that he purred. Lord Maul of the Shadow Collective purred loudly and constantly, rumbling, along the length of your body, lying between your legs, warm and hard and musky. He purred and it made everything inside you clench, desperately, hungry for his own hunger, for his tongue and his teeth and his hand wrapped around your neck, so tight and good you could still feel the thrill of it. For everything you had not asked for but still missed, for another go at his mouth and hearing him say please and ruin and want.

The second problem was that Savage purred too. Not as intimately close as Maul’s body draped across yours, but louder. Not at first either, and you would never know why or how long he had resisted this tell tale noise before he’d finally given in. Comfort having lulled him from his constant vigilance of Maul, eyes snapping open and alert at every new sound out of Maul’s mouth. Sounds that had seemed at first to Savage like Feral’s childish fretting or his own moans of protest after a hard night’s drinking to forget a visit from the Nightsisters. Then silence, the deep, even rhythm of his breath… and then like a blessing, like a memory from better times, his brother’s surprising content purring.

He had let himself be blinded by this. By this unexpected recovery of joy, of rightness… the comfort of his brother’s body so close at hand, the long-sought rumble of his dreamless sleep. He could’ve almost forgiven you for the weeks of anxious caution, for the fear… just because in your arms Maul sounded like a Nightbrother, a boy… or at least as far removed from whatever thing the Sith had tried to turn him into. It had been a rude awakening to catch the scent of your arousal in the air, to find you as dangerous and unpredictable as he had first thought you. Savage had snapped awake and watched you closely, waited, he didn’t know what for because you were no proper witch, but waited anyway, ready to fight for Maul, ready to make the Mother’s magic good for something, ready for anything but your strange refusal to act.

When you did move, it wasn’t towards his brother but away from him. You slipped a hand in between your bodies and for a stupid, senseless second Savage had thought it must have held a weapon to be wielded against Maul.

It wasn’t a vibroblade… but it was just as dangerous and even more confusing.

Your hand between your legs and it somehow took Savage a second to understand what you were doing in there, what treachery you were so clearly trying to hide.

He’d never heard of a Nightsister pleasuring herself, but there had been plenty of Nightbrothers in the communal huts. Savage had done it himself, a lifetime ago, when he still understood his life and his body. But he would not do it now, distrusted the ichor and the treachery of his kinslaying hands and it disturbed him how familiar, how nauseatingly enticing he found the quiet constrained sounds of your pleasure. A furtive, private pleasure you chose to take independent of Maul.

It made no sense, served no purpose, made no children, did not even bind his brother closer to you. All it did was flood the bed with warmth, with the musky, overpowering scent of your arousal, made Savage painfully aware of your human body, so like a Nightsister’s and yet so horribly alien at the same time.

Because you don’t yank either of them out of sleep with an order. You don’t demand combat and blood and horror. You choke down your thin little sounds, muffle your sudden desperate sob against the covers and make Savage’s skin break into goosebumps. There are no tears, no held back moans, when the Night people come together, there are no wet sounds of fingers reaching for solitary, desperate pleasure and Savage doesn’t understand why such a sounds should make his palms tingle or ichor seethe in his veins.

Savage doesn’t understand you at all, but Maul does.

“That,” he hears his brother hiss, terrifyingly awake, anger like molten lava “belongs to me.”

There’s the quick slap of Maul’s gloved hand snatching your own hands out of the way and you make another strange, otherworldly sound. Pained and high-pitched like a scream, but further back in your throat, like a wounded animal, a sound that Savage cannot fathom but which makes Maul growl and move over you.

“Please,” you beg and something in Savage’s stomach clenches because Nightsisters do not beg and Nightbrothers who beg never find themselves in a warm bed, heady with the stench of a woman’s wetness. But that please seems to do something to Maul, makes him yank your hands out of the way and above your head, your legs closing around Maul’s owns and Savage should be afraid, should be ready to flee or fight or kill, except Maul is still deeply, powerfully purring, like a boy with a full belly after a good hunt, like a young Nightbrother pumped full of spring joy, discovering the frenzied hungers of his own body, like a blessing and curse.

“You did it all wrong,” Maul whispers against your ear and Savage does not know how Maul thinks he can do this right because he knows nothing of this, of his own zabrak body drunk on your pheromones, of the danger of holding you down and holding you still and of how strange it is for you to still be begging please, please, please. Maul knows nothing but neither does Savage because he can hear your mewling, your horrible, terrible (wonderful) cry of pleasure and the squelching clench of your sex as Maul slips a still gloved finger inside you and makes you writhe and makes you sweat and makes you do things that have Savage panting for breath and desperately fighting an arousal he had almost thought gone from his life.

And Maul’s fingers are going in and out of you and Savage can hear it, like and unlike sex, deliciously suggestive of it but no treacherous velvet softness around his own member to distract him, no witch to protect his brother from, just your pitiful human body at Maul’s mercy and he can perhaps, for once, understand Maul’s obsession with power, with chains. Because if he could have you like this always, subdued and compliant, reeking of sex, of happiness, perhaps he would understand why his brother says that peace is a lie. Because this, Maul’s ragged breathing, your warm legs brushing Savage’s body whenever his brother pushes inside you too roughly, his own stubborn erection a dull and distant pleasure… This is better than peace.

Maul bites and you cry out in pain and joy. The blood he draws smells to Savage of Dathomir, except it’s not supposed to be yours and you’re no supposed buck under Maul, to beg for more, to make Savage want to flee, want to stay, want to bite down on something (you). He does not know what you’re supposed to do but Maul’s body does. And Savage can almost taste it when Maul slides between your legs. He knows the instinct, the insatiable hunger.

Because Maul is relentless, unskilled and determined and when you protest he snarls at you and makes you melt back into the bed. When your hips buck up his hands grind them back down and he is strong and impossible to guide and you’re at his mercy. And it’s both too much and not enough, each hot swipe of his tongue, each ravenous sound of ecstasy from deep in the back of his throat, reverberating against your legs and your sex and all of it is hot and alive under him.

Savage can feel it in the Force, ravenously, darkly pulsing between them. Feed, rend, take, breed. Every Nightbrother’s prayer, singing through Savage’s veins, through his groin and the unbearable hardness of his member. Because he wants that taste too, not yours, but the terrible taste of Maul’s sheer joy in you, in your thighs clamping against his horns, shredding the tender skin, wanting him so much, so much closer that blood is a price worth paying. The torrent of desire and lust and sheer want, that Maul can’t even stop. His tongue inside you, his teeth grazing you and his voice, whenever he deigns to stop for a breath, no longer velvety, but raw and impossibly deep panting yes, yes, yes.

And Savage can almost smell you climaxing, choking back his brother’s name and Maul’s making a noise like a wounded animal and lapping at the blood smearing your thighs too quick and too sudden. You’re still coming and you don’t want to stop and it’s that thoughtless desire that gives you the audacity to grab Maul’s hand and place it back on your sex if he intends to continue licking greedily at the stinging mess of your thighs.

You are too far gone to notice how immediately he obeys. Savage is too focused on keeping Dathomir’s echo from intruding. But Maul… Maul rips the glove from his hand with his teeth and thrusts his fingers inside you again, quick and efficient like he is Sidious’s weapon all over again, capable, perfect, powerful. Two, three fingers inside you and his thumb on your clitoris, because he’d prepared this time, sought the knowledge of your undoing, guides it via the flood of your scent and movements and screams. You’re screaming his name and he smiles, madly, a grimace with too many teeth.

Maul feels deliriously present, because he wants and he wants and wants and feels like he’s disappearing in desire like his master had said he would, if he focused his rage enough. But this is different. Blood and the addictive potency of your wetness, better than anger, than food, than comfort. Better than anything he’s ever tasted. A thing he’s making you do, with his hands and his mouth and his skill and he can’t wait to make you do it again and again, until you have no breath to say his name anymore, until you can’t scream it and remind him he exists.

Because that’s what you’re doing now, still panting Maul, Maul, rhythmically, in time with his fingers inside you, the whole heel of his hand incessantly, cruelly rubbing the whole of your sex, still wet, still painfully sensitive, still coming for him and only him.

“Lord Maul,” he corrects you in a growl you feel reverberate to your very bones and smiles wider, wilder when you echo him. Can’t help but dive back into you, this time catching your mouth with his own, wanting the taste of your screams. He’s fucking his hand into you so hard, he can almost feel it in a member he no longer has. Hates the muted quality of his lust, his passion, as much as he feels comforted by it. He has control, but at what price? It is not worthy of a Sith, this fear of his own hunger and he finds himself furiously taking it out on the already abused skin of your neck, biting you again, getting another heavenly mouthful of your blood.

But this time you do cry out in pain, tense up beneath him and his reaction is instinctive and immediate. First to subdue you, and then to peer into your face, anxious for a second and then annoyed at his show of weakness. It’s like the air’s been punched out of him, the moment he lays eyes on you: smeared with blood and yet still panting and reaching for him. You nudge something deep inside him, the memory of all the dead things he’d desired and had to forgo. Kilindi in her pool of blood. Eldra. Sidious’s women… and it’s nauseating how much it makes him want you. Agony, the sith masters of old had said, would free him. He does not know it now, face hiding in the crook of your neck, he does not know what he would do with freedom.

Savage is on you so fast it’s dizzying, ready to rip his brother from your arms, would have in fact ripped those arms off your body if only you hadn’t looked at him. Pleading. Scared. Still covered in blood and none of it Maul’s, for all he’s the one whimpering like a rancor just gored him. You are terrified but you don’t let him go, refuse even to let Savage pry your fingers off his back and he doesn’t know what to do when there’s no wound to tend to, no hurt to soothe, no enemy to kill. Just pain.

When a Nightbrother gets like this, there’s very little to be done, he’d been told. But you don’t know that and Savage has tried very hard to forget. When Savage had found Maul, gibbering in agony in Lotho Minor, he hates that his first thought had been to put him down, put an end to his suffering, to do what he should have done ages ago. But Savage cannot, not then and not now. Savage could not do it to Feral when they had been young and alone and too stupid to be afraid, and he will fight the ichor in his very veins to stop himself from doing it again.

Because Savage is not like Maul… or like you. He does not know how to endure, how to put things back together after they’re broken. There are things Savage will never come back from, will never crawl out of, will never survive. He has failed already, as a Nightbrother in trying to keep one brother from the Sisters and another from you. Failed just by trying and failed in the attempt. He will not survive this, but Maul will. Maul will survive you and Savage will make sure he will. If he has to let you hold Maul, let you soothe him, let you speak softly and constantly to him while he murmurs always remember, always remember, then he will. If he has to endure the stench of your arousal and your fear and your love, then he will. And he will put the bacta on your shredded thighs and help you hold Maul together and try not to hate the sight of your tears and try not to love when you hand him his brother to hold, the three of you together, nestled against each other, making sure Maul survives.

#darth maul x reader #savage opress x reader #darth maul smut #savage opress smut #star wars #star wars fanfiction #tw: blood #tw: noncon #no noncon happening here but Savage has some errrrm interesting thots re sex with the womenfolk #he’s still not exactly fucking but he’s getting there I think

44 notes · View notes