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garnishclickicon · 6 days ago

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A PLACE IN THE SEA OF STARS

anakin skywalker x f!naberrie!reader word count: 10.4k (my longest yet... i'm so sorry) warnings: two idiots pining, pining, reader is padme's younger sister (whether biological or adopted is up to you), first time having sex, soft smut, angst synopsis: a life spent in padmé amidala's shadow and never once did she ever think she'd be envious of her sister. that is, until anakin skywalker walks his way into her life and she finds herself praying that one day, he'd look at her the way he does at padmé, that she'll be given a place in the sea of stars, that her destiny will include him.

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It came as no surprise that Anakin Skywalker would be enamored with her second-to-oldest sister.

After a life spent behind Padmé Amidala’s shadow, she’d grown accustomed to it— being overlooked. But for once, just this once, she wished history wouldn’t repeat itself, wished the prophecy could be rewritten and for once, let it be her who was chosen, who was noticed.

But of course, it’s futile.

You can sink to your knees and pray to whatever higher being is in the sky but at the end of the day, there are millions of lost souls just like you doing the same. You can have faith, you can believe that someday you’ll be heard but with each silent day that passes, your voice still falls on deaf ears.

She’s done her time playing the fool who sinks to her knees and pleads with the night sky to find her a place in the sea of stars, so that she may fit in a constellation too. She’s been the statue who's been made to wait— and she’s started to crumble.

She remembers the day she started to pray like it was yesterday. It was the day she first met Anakin Skywalker, back when he was only a Padawan, still searching for his own place in the world. Her parents were restless then, having heard of the multiple assassination attempts on their dear second oldest daughter. Of course she was worried too, but she still could feel the guilt that settled into the marrow of her bones when she found herself pondering whether her parents would react the same way if it had been her life at stake instead.

She remembers helping her eldest sister, Sola, and her mother with dinner in preparation for the arrival of their sister Padmé and her Jedi escort. She’d been tasked with bringing a bowl of fruit to the table and she remembered nearly being trampled over by her nieces, Ryoo and Pooja, as they squeal Padmé’s name, sprinting for the door.

She remembers huffing, mumbling a curse in an alien language beneath her breath just as their guests step inside, looking up from where she leaned over the table, dropping the bowl down onto the surface. She remembers her breath catching in her throat when her gaze found a sea of blue that put the Naboo waters to shame.

Padmé’s lips curved into a grin as she exclaimed her sister’s name, circling the table to capture her in an embrace. Her sister wrapped her arms around her and her chin found Padmé’s shoulder as the blue that took her breath away crashed into her and she swore everything changed in that moment.

She remembers the first time Anakin Skywalker looked at her. It was a brief, friendly locking of the eyes but a fleeting moment for him felt like lightyears for her. His eyes were the blue of the water where the sun’s reflection gently ripples and warps. They were the blue of the sky after it rains and the sun begins to spill through the cracks of the wall of clouds.

She’s never understood what it meant to be speechless, for something to literally steal the breath away from her lungs. But from the moment her eyes met his, she began to understand.

“Anakin! This is my youngest sister,” Padmé announced, pulling away from their embrace. Her spine stiffened when her sister introduced her and she watched as his full, pink lips moved to form her name. His voice is like nails scraping against the itch she can’t reach on her back, his voice is like velvet she can swallow, deliciously soft and rich against her throat.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Anakin dipped his chin in greeting, the silly, little braid falling off his shoulder. She drained the lump that had formed in her throat, bowing her head. Her lips trembled and her breath was shaky as she prepared her salutations but her words fell dead on the tip of her tongue when Padmé’s squeal permeated the room.

“And my eldest sister Sola!”

And just like that, all attention rolled away from her and onto her eldest sisters but she still watched him, heart beating against her chest.

And that was the moment she began to pray.

She prayed, even though the looks he’d given Padmé didn’t go unnoticed. The way he watched her, even when she wasn’t the one speaking, the way he’d soak in every word, every praise for her that fell past her parents’ mouths. The way he stared longingly at her sister when he was certain nobody was watching— and no one was, for their attentions were on Padmé, save for hers.

It was typical.

It should come as no surprise that everyone would worship the ground her sister— the former Queen, current Senator of Naboo— walked on. She’s not surprised that someone young and benign like him would fall in love with her sister— she’d only seen it happen more times than she ever really cared to count.

And she’d never really cared about all the suitors on their knees at Padmé’s feet before— they were her sister’s problems, not hers. She’d never even really envied her sister, at least in that sense.

But everything changed the moment Anakin stepped through the door. Everything changed the moment their eyes met, if only for the most fleeting of seconds.

So she prayed.

Inside the inner realms of her mind, she sinks to her knees and stares into the void above her, the stars that beamed down at her twinkling, almost as if they taunted her. She swallowed her pride, folding her hands together and raising them to her chin, brow dipping as she pleaded with the higher being in the sky to hear her cry.

“Please, hear me, Maker,” she whispered into her mind, externally staring at Anakin, internally losing her gaze amongst the stars as if the Maker himself would appear between them. “Hear my plea. Whatever destiny you’ve pre-written for me, please be sure it includes Anakin Skywalker.”

She didn’t see Anakin Skywalker again for another year after that.

Apparently, being a Jedi means he’s constantly from place to place, but next time they do end up in the same place, it’s even more fleeting than the last. She was beginning to wonder if she would ever see him again, if she was foolish to continue hoping that he might notice her, that he might even love her. But she still remembers the way his eyes flickered in recognition when they caught hers across the courtyard of Theed Royal Palace. His hair was longer and he didn’t have that ridiculous braid or tiny ponytail on the back of his neck anymore. The Chancellor was speaking to him and another Jedi with umber hair and a matching beard, but his attention was on her.

He looked… darker. As if the years of war had finally begun taking its toll on him. But he’s still the same man he’s always been, still the same one she’s dreamed about. He even looked better.

They don’t get the chance to talk, only share knowing glances, as he was on duty and their paths unfortunately didn’t cross. But that gleaming in his eyes, the one that blazes with knowing is all the kindling in the pit of her belly needs to bloom, to blossom into a raging wildfire.

So, she prayed again.

“Maker,” she said into that night sky inside of her head. The stars shone brighter, as if to laugh at the foolish girl beneath them. She ignored them of course— because she truly believed that one day, she’d prove them wrong. “Please. Hear my plea. Let Anakin Skywalker see me again. Give me a place in your sea of stars and make sure it is in Anakin Skywalker’s orbit.”

She doesn’t see him again for another two years.

But still, he lingers, just like a phantom weaving through every corner she passes, cloaked in shadow. She sees Anakin Skywalker everywhere she goes— in the lakes of shining waters out in the country, in the rain that falls on a dark, cloudy day, in the litany of stars that idle in the sky.

She sees him in her dreams, staring the way he did at Padmé. Only, in her dreams, his gaze finds her. Almost like he had that day in the courtyard, but in her dreams, his eyes would linger longer.

His voice calls out to her whenever she’s sleeping and it lingers in gooseflesh on her skin, frosting over her bones. She’ll open her eyes when he calls but she’s never truly awake. Alas, if dreaming is the only way she’ll see Anakin Skywalker again, she’d gladly succumb to her sleep and trick herself into believing it is real.

Except tonight, she does not think she can take it much longer.

“Anakin,” she whispers one day when she peels her eyelids open after he calls. She says his name like it’ll be the last time she ever will. That look is on his face again— the one she’s seen so many times directed at her in her dreams, she’s nearly forgotten it wasn’t meant for her in the first place.

She used to wake and long for sleep to come again, just so she could watch him look at her like that.

But three long years of waiting and foolishly praying to beings who do not hear have begun to rust the illusion she’s deluded herself into hopelessly believing in. Three long years of silence and she’s finally cracked. She is broken— she sees it now. She’s grown weary of hoping he’d be the one to fix her.

His lips curve to form a smile and for three years, she’s fooled herself into believing it could be for her— truly be for her, outside of her dreams. But to be forthright, she’s tired. She’s grown tired of pretending, tired of clinging onto the dying embers of mere memories of how a man looked at someone that wasn’t her— but rather her sister. She’s grown tired of hoping, waiting, praying that one day, he may wander back into her life and thread his way into the tapestry that her destiny’s been woven into.

Tonight is the night she forfeits with her palms to the sky, tonight is the night she yields to the stars that have taunted her for far too long and admits her defeat. That they were right all along. Tonight is the night she blows away the ashes she’s desperately held so close to her chest and sealed away in secret urns inside for far too long.

Tonight is the night she lets go.

When she wakes the following morning, birds chirp outside her window. Sunlight spills into her room as it rises over the mountains across the lake and she yawns, stretching her arms over her head. Today is merry— it is the day her sister, Padmé Amidala, marries.

Today is merry but instead, she feels dread seep into the marrow of her bones. She’s happy for her sister, really, she is, but it serves only as a reminder that her time is ticking, and time has turned vexing. It serves as a reminder that she must make haste to find her own purpose, to find someone who will cherish her the way she’s spent many fortnights dreaming about. Sola’s already married and found her purpose, and Padmé’s had her entire life laid out before her since she was only fourteen years of age.

Sola, the wife and mother, Padmé, the Queen and then the Senator, and then there’s her. Unsure. Undecided. An ellipsis.

She’s envious. How could she not be? She’s envious that she’ll never be the perfect mother like Sola, envious that she’ll never live up to Padmé’s legacy, she’s even grown envious of the stars: they simply idle in the night sky but even their idleness has a purpose because their places have reason, to create constellations that in turn, tell stories.

She knows that after today, the pressure of fulfilling whatever destiny’s been written for her will only further suffocate her. She will suffocate beneath the weight of this pressure and she will be expected to continue breathing. She’s tried for so long to keep the air in her lungs but it’s so hard when with each day that passes by, the darkness grows more appealing.

She’s tried so hard to find the right path she’s supposed to take, but there are so many roads, so many choices and so many consequences. She’s afraid— and it’s why she’s allowed herself to hide in her sisters’ shadows for so long. But it feels so stifling now.

She sighs and blinks up to the terracotta ceiling. And then of course, dread wears her bones for an entirely different reason. Because it’s inevitable that she’s going to see Anakin Skywalker today. And things will be different.

It’s been lingering like an annoying, little insect since Padmé announced she’d invited her Jedi friends to the wedding, ever since she heard Anakin’s name being read off the list. Things were certain to change because he is but a mere guest, and not the groom.

It may have come as no surprise that Anakin would fall for her, but it certainly came as a shock that Padmé wouldn’t fall for him.

It makes her flesh blaze with a strange anger she’s not quite sure how to describe. How could her sister have something she so desperately wanted but not pursue it? How could she reject Anakin when he would willingly break and bend to her every whim? Why must her sister take his infatuation for granted— why could it not be given to her instead?

She thinks it must be some cruel trick the Maker is playing on her, dangling Anakin in front of her like that, cursing him with an unrequited love when she was right there. She thinks it must be the Maker’s— damn him— cruel way of taunting her, as if the sneering stars had eyes, his eyes. Even if part of her is relieved Anakin is not marrying her sister, it still feels like a blaster wound to her chest, puncturing her skin and searing her insides.

She hears her name called from outside her room’s door and groans.

“What do you want?” She replies in displeasure as the door slides open. Her eldest sister, Sola, steps into the room and glowers at her youngest sister’s tone.

“Well, good morning sunshine,” Sola remarks and she rolls her eyes. Sola makes her way towards the bed, dropping a dress the color of fire onto the mattress. “Is there a reason for your ill-temper today?”

She pushes herself to sit upright, wrinkling her nose at the dress as she takes a fistful of it in her hand. “Orange?” She scoffs, tossing it back down onto the bed. “I thought we were wearing blue?”

Sola shrugs, plopping down onto the mattress. “Padmé changed her mind last minute,” she says. “I suppose if we wore blue, we’d mesh with the background, don’t you think?”

She sighs and flops back down against her pillows, one arm folded over her stomach, the other folded behind her head. Sola pokes her forefinger against her knee and she grumbles, narrowing her eyes at the ceiling.

“Now, answer the question,” her oldest sister insists. “What’s the matter with you?”

Her eyelids flutter closed and she wishes more than anything that she could simply wink out of existence. It’s not that she doesn’t want to be here for Padmé, she does, but she’s uncertain how she could possibly explain how she feels to Sola in a way she could understand. It’s exactly this that’s made her feel so alone all these years.

She’s never had someone who could understand her, really get her. She’s always been different from her sisters, even before marriage and coronations and political promotions. It’s something she’s certain her sisters have known, that even her parents must’ve known. She’s never been jovial and nurturing like Sola, or clever and independent like Padmé. She’s always preferred silence and privacy, and maybe that’s been her problem. But it’s all she knows, being alone.

Sola’s never spent years yearning for a boy who yearns for another, so she couldn’t possibly understand. She doesn’t think she could even make her understand.

She sighs, lolling her head to the side until her gaze finds Sola’s.

“Not looking forward to wearing that dress for the entire evening,” she says instead. Sola’s eyes roll and she leans over to pinch her calf beneath the covers. She hisses and swats her sister’s hand away as she clicks her tongue, moving out of the way.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad,” Sola tries to reason.

“It’s hideous,” she deadpans.

Sola deflates with the acceptance of her defeat. She grabs her sister’s knee, giving it a shake. She glares at her older sister.

“Come on, that can’t be the only reason why you’re in such a foul mood,” Sola insists, her bottom lip rolling in a pout and she swears it’s almost comical how her eldest sister can act like such a child. It’s a wonder how she has children of her own.

She blinks at Sola as a sort of realization creeps onto her eldest sister’s face and she blinks, internally grimacing. For she knows that whatever is bound to come out of her sister’s mouth next is going to be completely and utterly wrong.

“I think I get it now,” Sola’s tone is softer, her face falling to match it. “You’re upset you’ll be the last of us to be married.”

And there it is.

She internally cringes at just how wrong Sola is but she says nothing, further prompting her sister to lean forward, reaching for the hand that rests on her stomach. Her muscles stiffen when she takes it and she wills herself to stay still. It was better to let Sola say whatever she had to say than recoil and deny it— it’s not like she had any better excuse anyways.

“I know it can be tough,” she begins. “Feeling like you’re left out. Believe me, I had my fair share of it. I was so jealous of yours and Padmé’s relationship when you were younger because I was so much older, I felt like I just didn’t quite fit in with you two.”

Her eyes finally meet Sola’s and she begins to see her eldest sister in a different light. All this time, she’s believed she’s the only one who’s felt this way— lost, left behind. While this isn’t quite the same context, she still feels her heart tremble in her chest for her sister, still feels like something’s shifted. It’s at least one thing they can understand each other on.

“But then, I found my husband. And then I had Ryoo and Pooja,” Sola continues. “And it was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ve never been so happy in my life.”

Sola’s grip tightens around her hand and she leans forward to place her other one on top. “I know it must seem hard, seeing as both Padmé and I are married— well, almost anyway.” Her lips curve into a soft, reassuring grin. “But you’ll find that same happiness one day. I just know it. So don’t fret, little sister.”

And there, she fears, is where her sister misses the plot.

She almost wants to laugh at how ridiculous this all sounds. She remains silent, however, and Sola gives the back of her hand one last reassuring pat before she lets go, sliding off of the mattress.

“Anyways, I’m going to breakfast. You should come too before all the blue waffles are gone.”

She watches as her eldest sister slips out of the room, the door sliding closed behind her and she sighs, digging her knuckles into her closed eyelids until the galaxy shimmers before her. How could Sola have come so close to understanding her one minute only to read her so wrong the next?

She doesn’t make any effort to get out of bed and in all honesty, she wishes she could simply stay here forever, or at least for the rest of the night. At least long enough that she doesn’t have to face Anakin Skywalker.

Because even though she’s already promised herself that she’d let him go, she wasn’t entirely certain she could hold true to her own word when she sees him again.

The day goes by in a blur. In the blink of an eye, she’s wearing a satin dress in that deep orange she finds hideous beside Sola who stands beside Padmé. Padmé stands facing her husband-to-be, fingertips delicately placed in his palms as they recite their vows.

The sun paints the villa’s terrace with an orange glow and she watches it sink beneath the mountains across the lake from the corner of her eye. The sunlight looks like fire rippling in the gentle waves of the water below and she has to look away because she thinks of Anakin, how his eyes glimmer just the same.

She’s determined to keep her gaze away from the audience, however, because she knows he’s there, the incarnation of all she’s ever wanted, of all her bad ideas, of everything she cannot trust herself with in one. She searches the ground below, watches the way her dress ruffles with the breeze, like fire askew in the wind.

Padmé says something that makes the audience erupt in laughter and it startles her, so much that the hair on the back of her neck erects. When she flinches, she makes the mistake of blinking up— right into the eyes she’d been bound to avoid all night.

The world around Anakin Skywalker seems to stir until it’s all wet, blurry hues of orange, green, and white. Anakin is the only one she sees in high resolution— she can see every lock of wavy, dark blonde hair, every rippling wave in his irises, the scarlet line that slices just beside his right eye. She’d never seen this scar before— it must be new.

But what’s the most peculiar of all is that she meets his eyes— she meets his eyes. She’d blinked up to find he’d already been staring, already transfixed on her by the time their gazes met and his eyes had illuminated with that same knowing gleam she’d seen in them that day in the royal courtyard.

Anakin Skywalker is looking at her and she is not in a dream. It’s both momentous and utterly devastating all the same.

She isn’t quite sure whether to look away or not. This is what she's mooned over more times than her pride will allow her to admit. She’s dreamed this many nights, for Anakin Skywalker to simply look at her and now he is. Anakin Skywalker is looking at her and she should feel elated but instead she feels… conflicted.

Does her heart flutter in her chest? Sure.

Does her stomach twist itself into knots? Certainly.

She felt so confident just the night before when she threw her hands up in surrender to the black sky, admitting her defeat to the stars who spent many moons mocking her that she was done. She felt so confident that she was ready to move on, to let go of this desire she’s harbored for Anakin for so long.

With the simplest of looks, Anakin Skywalker has proven capable of crumpling the paper walls she’d placed around herself. She was left feeling feeble, exposed and any sense of courage she thought she had was now lost.

Because three years of waiting and praying to higher entities who did not hear her pleas could not cease overnight. Her attraction to Anakin Skywalker could not cease in hours. She thought she’d extinguished the last flames of her withering hope but, as it turns out, a single dying ember remained. It means a part of her still yearned for him. A part of her still burned for him.

She wonders now, that he’s still looking at her, what possibly goes on inside his head. Why does he look at her now? Why does he stare, why do his lips twitch before curving in a smile when their eyes meet, why do they irradiate the longer her gaze lingers on his? Why does he not look sad at the wedding of the woman he loves? Why does he not even look at Padmé?

Her mind swirls like a tempest— churning with unhinged, vicious anguish. She has to look away before the acid that bubbles in her throat can come to fruition but she can’t, and Anakin seemingly can’t tear his gaze away from her either. It’s all the more sickening and earth-shattering nonetheless. Her heart swells and pounds in her chest, the border of her vision beginning to blur with the familiar sting of tears. Her head is aching and it’s all just too much— she needs an escape.

“I now pronounce you, husband and wife.”

She blinks away her emotion to the best of her ability, using the end of the ceremony as an excuse to look away as the crowd around her thunders with applause. Her mind is reeling and she feels like her head is spinning as she subconsciously claps her palms together, the sound muffled like water in her ears. The watercolor around her stirs until it’s clear again and the entire world suddenly seems to move again— it’s her, this time, that’s in slow motion.

The cheering sounds like thunder, the applause like rain pelting against a window, and her mind begins to crumple, just like metal. She longs for escape, to flee and to be beside herself for the rest of the night. Padmé and her husband begin walking back down the aisle as their guests congratulate them, tossing flower petals into the air above them. She thinks that this is her chance to escape, she thinks everyone is distracted enough that no one will notice her leaving.

They never cared to notice her before anyways.

She begins to shuffle away but she doesn’t make it very far before her stomach lurches when someone clasps a hand around her wrist, tugging her forward. She snaps her head to the source to find her eldest sister, Sola, with her face illuminated by a grin.

“Come on!” Sola exclaims, dragging her down the aisle and back inside the villa. “It’s time to party!”

Dread drains the blood from her cheeks but she’s given no time to protest before she’s being dragged down the aisle, right past Anakin Skywalker. She doesn’t dare look up but she feels him when she passes by, a mere brush of the arms, the feeling of his elbow brushing going just as fast as it came.

And it’s still enough to make liquid of her insides.

She drowns in a sea of people as she and Sola find Padmé, wrapped in their mother’s arms. She can hear her heart drum in her ears as Sola releases her hand to draw Padmé into an embrace, tears streaming down the apples of her cheeks. Everyone around her is so happy and she should be too— but she still feels like she’s beside the altar, caught in the trap Anakin has seemingly laid out for her.

A tear that’s been painfully dormant in her eye falls and she’s certain her distress shows on her face but it must be easily mistaken for tears of joy, because Padmé pulls away from Sola to turn to her, drawing her in for a hug. Her sister’s arms wrap around her body, a palm on her back, the other cupping the back of her head. Even Sola reaches forward to give her upper arm a reassuring squeeze, undoubtedly thinking back to the conversation they’d had earlier.

“Don’t cry for me, baby sister,” Padmé laughs tearfully beside her ear. She can feel Padmé’s smile against her shoulder. She pulls away and rubs her palms up and down the length of her arms. “I’m still the same Padmé I’ve always been.”

She’s unable to reply— again, she’s misunderstood. But it’s her sister’s wedding day, she won’t burden her with her own confliction. So she swallows the boulder-sized lump in her throat, curving her lips just enough to form a tight-lipped smile.

“I’m just… happy for you,” she manages. Padmé cups her cheek and soothes the pad of her thumb over her skin before Ryoo and Pooja draw her attention away. Padmé’s hands fall from her arms and finally, she can breathe.

But even that is momentary.

“You make a perfectly fine bride if I do say so myself, Senator.”

Her spine stiffens. She knows that voice. And she knows exactly who is near when she hears it.

Padmé laughs and tosses her hands. “Obi-Wan,” she greets him just like an old friend would, pulling him in for an embrace. “And little Ani.”

How is it that she’s already seen him more tonight than she has in the past three years? She sees Anakin’s dark boots from the top of her vision, not daring to tear her gaze from the ground.

“Padmé,” Anakin’s deep, enriching voice sounds and rumbles deep in her belly. She shifts uncomfortably where she stands, desperate to flee. She thinks she can manage it now— Obi-Wan and Anakin are engrossed with Padmé now, right?

She begins to make her first attempt of escape, taking slow, careful steps to the side until her second effort crumbles when Anakin speaks her name.

Ice frosts over her spine and she’s no choice but to acknowledge the man she was so intent on avoiding the entire evening. Padmé and Obi-Wan are engrossed in their own conversation but Anakin’s gaze remains on her, eyes even sparkling when she finally meets them.

Her mouth is a desiccated oasis and her throat feels like a desert as it constricts painfully when she swallows. Still, she manages to breathe out, “Anakin.”

It’s the first time she can ever recall having a true, proper conversation with him. The last time being when they said their goodbyes that very first time before he and Padmé left for the Lake Country. It’s confusing how this is everything she’s ever wanted yet, she feels an urge to push it all away.

Anakin clears his throat and his eyes flicker to his feet for a moment as if he could possibly be nervous before they find hers again. “You look good,” he says and her heart stops beating in her chest. “That dress is beautiful on you.”

She thinks she could punch him.

Or kiss him.

She has to look away, or she may very well do the latter.

She wonders if this is some cruel, senseless joke the Maker is playing on her. She wonders if she’d upset him by unlatching herself from his hook and this is his way of reeling her back in. She hates that it has the potential to work.

“I…” she stammers and closes her lids frustratedly, willing air back into her lungs. She shakes her head— she cannot be here any longer. She may very well explode if she has to succumb to this torture for even a second more. “…thanks. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

And then, she bolts.

She’s lost track of how long she’s been locked in her room, sitting in the window, staring at the moonlight that ripples in the water below. It was long enough for the chatter downstairs to quiet to murmurs until it finally ceased altogether. The villa is now quiet and suddenly, her room feels suffocating.

With a sigh, her feet meet the floor and she pushes away from the window seat, cupping her neck to roll it around her shoulders as she pads towards the door. It slides open and she slips through, making her way down the hallway leading towards the main foyer. Her dress flows behind her like flames in the wind, the satin cool against her legs as she walks. Fresh, night air greets her and she inhales, letting it flood her lungs as she saunters to the wide terrace ahead.

She stops at the stone arches of the railing and exhales, feeling the wind sift its fingers through her hair, breathing on her skin like a lover in the throes of passion. It caresses her neck and rolls down her back, leaving gooseflesh in its wake.

She’d spent many nights just like this one. Staring at the moon rippling through the water, at the stars that twinkle overhead, the sky that blackens behind them. She’d spent many nights praying, releasing her pleas into the air and letting it drift away with the breeze.

She does not pray this time. When she lifts her head to brave the dark that faces her, she merely asks why.

“Why, Maker,” she whispers beneath her breath. There’s an edge, a strain to her voice that stings her throat, that feels like daggers to her chest. “Why must you be so cruel? I have done everything, I have given you everything. Why wasn’t it enough? Why do you mock me now?”

The stars overhead gleam as they cackle, sneering at the misfit below. “You’ll never have a place among us,” they seem to say. Tears well in her eyes and she drops her head, fingernails scraping the stone edge of the railing. She leans back on her heels and wills herself to breathe before a sob could wrack her body.

She feels lost and utterly alone, and she truly begins to feel like the weight of this prolonged pain has started to fall on top of her. She’s lost and alone and her entire world has started to crumble around her. And then she hears her name.

It’s like the call that haunts her every time she closes her eyes, the same velvety voice that caresses her ear every night when she lies down in bed. But it is not a ghostly whisper this time, because it is real.

Footsteps sound behind her and she further scratches her nails against the railing.

“I was wondering where you wandered off to,” Anakin remarks as he approaches and she can feel him beside her, like a whisper of shadow creeping along her skin. She rolls back onto the balls of her feet and stands straight, sniffing.

“Anakin,” she says, steadily, methodically. As if it took great effort to say it without stammering. She can see him out of her peripheral, dark blonde curls falling when he leans an elbow against the railing, tilting his head in an attempt to meet her eye.

She does not move.

“I was looking for you, you know,” he continues. “You must’ve found a good hiding spot.”

She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth. “I was in my room,” she replies simply, a steely, monotone in her voice.

Anakin inhales and hums. “Then it makes sense why I could not find you. I would never barge into a lady’s room.”

It’s an attempt at humor but she feels anything but. She’s stuck between a rock and a hard place with seemingly no clear solution in sight. She could walk away. She should walk away. She shouldn't spend a single second more in Anakin Skywalker’s presence— she simply couldn’t trust herself to not betray her own vow.

Or she could stay. She could stay and once again succumb to the fool’s game she’s been playing. She could stay and let Anakin Skywalker tie another noose around her neck, allowing him to drag her along for another three years.

She knows what is right. She knows what she should do.

But she’s frozen.

She cannot move, cannot even bring her lips to move so she can speak. She instead wilts, like a rose who once stood beautifully now losing its color, shriveling in on herself until she inevitably withers away.

She can feel Anakin draw himself just an inch closer beside her, and he’s like a single drop of rain that’s enough to somewhat salvage the husk of who she once was.

“Why do you avoid me?” He asks and it’s a question so simply but so damn infuriating all the while. She’s been a volcano in dormancy up until this point, but there’s a rumbling deep within her, threatening to erupt.

“Why are you doing this?” She questions, snapping her head towards him, brows dipped and drawn. Anakin blinks and draws back, a dent forming between his own brows.

“Doing what?” He asks and that feeling of wanting to ram her fist into his face comes back. She turns to fully face him and he pushes off the railing, uncertainty warping his features.

“This,” she gestures between them. “Staring at me. Talking to me. As if we’ve spoken more than hellos and goodbyes to each other.”

Anakin raises a brow, the one his scar pierces, and it warps with the movement.

She continues. “And then you have the audacity to tell me I look beautiful in this gods-awful dress just to spite me.” She is a volcano, no longer dormant, no longer overlooked. She is exploding and Anakin is unfortunate enough to be in her wake.

He shakes his head. “Spite you?” He repeats. She begins to pace, a hand on her hip, the other rubbing her chin. Anakin follows, exactly like a lost puppy. “I wasn’t— I would never—“

“Don’t say you’d never,” she turns on him, sticking an accusatory finger in his face. He blinks from it back to her, that ocean in the irises of his eyes raging, lightning cracking in the sinkhole at its center. She drops her hand and it curls at her side, her fists two shaking balls of fury. Blood bites her cheeks and she thinks of all the times she’s imagined speaking with Anakin Skywalker, of being alone with him.

This certainly was not how she’d ever imagined the scenario playing out.

She inhales. “Don’t say you’d never do anything to spite me while you are actively using me to get over Padmé,” she exhales, braving the stormy sea in his eyes. The tide shifts and his manner does too and she believes she’s already cracked him. She thinks she’s already shattered the illusion he was trying to create, that she’s lifted the wool he’s tried to veil over her eyes.

She thinks that he believes whatever game he was trying to play was over.

Anakin straightens. “You have no idea what you are talking about,” he says and she scoffs, backing away.

“Don’t I?” She retorts. “You don’t think I’ve noticed how you’ve always looked at her? How you’ve always loved her?”

It brings her great pain to merely mention it. Her palms wipe at her face as tears begin welling in her eyes again, her cheeks warm as she desperately tries to quell the beginnings of a sob that stutters through her chest. She realizes now that by keeping all of these emotions, these feelings she’s harbored for Anakin for so long bottled has made her restless, has made her tick like a time bomb.

And her time to detonate has come.

He says her name again and tries to step forward, reeling back when she steps away from him. His hand wrapped in a leather glove hovers in the air between them and he drops it with an exasperated sigh.

“Your sister means a great deal to me, yes,” he begins. “But it is not—“

“My sister is the sole reason why you torment me!” She snaps. “And you have no right to use how I feel against me just because she does not love you back.”

Her words are an arrow meant to strike, to pierce through his chest, his heart her target. Her words are meant to cut deep, to draw blood, to make him bleed just like she has everyday since they met. She thinks they will, she thinks her blows will etch deep, will even leave scars in their wake. Part of her longs to see that pained expression upon his face, just like the one she wears now.

But her arrow merely grazes, soaring past until it sinks in the shining waters below.

Anakin’s face shifts but it is not in the way she thought it would, not in the way she hoped it would. His brows dip and his eyes swarm with a pained sort of desperation she’s never seen before in someone. She certainly never expected to see it in someone like him. His chest rises and falls with his breaths as he steps forward again. She stands still, unable to move. She is stunned— Anakin Skywalker has surprised her.

“Padmé does not love me,” he admits. “I met her when I was only a child. The only girl I’d ever seen before her was my own mother. So, of course, I felt drawn to her.” Her jaw tightens and her lips fall together in a firm, thin line. Anakin’s brows knit closer together and there’s a flicker in his eyes that she swears looks like the predecessor to tears.

She doesn’t quite want to believe it. He could not cry.

“And I spent a decade pining, a decade praying that I’d one day see her again, a decade hoping she’d been counting down the days until she saw me again, just like I was.”

She doesn’t believe what she’s hearing. It’s a reflection of her own story, her own foolish pining, her own foolish praying but not hers, but Anakin’s. Her heart stutters in her chest and she forgets to breathe, having to gasp to gather air back into her lungs.

She’s never once felt like she could be understood. She’s never once felt like anyone else could experience the inner turmoil she has, the seemingly fruitless yearning she has.

But she’s realizing now that that's not true. Not anymore, at least. Everything is changing right before her eyes.

“And then I did,” Anakin shakes his head, a humorless laugh leaving his lips. “And I felt nothing. But I tried. I tried to convince myself I loved her. But I just… didn’t.”

Her brow furrows and Anakin’s gaze darkens as it finds hers.

“I spent a decade obsessing over someone I didn’t really know, and how could I? I was a child.” His eyes search hers, searching for something unbeknownst to her. But she lets him. “I didn’t know what love was. All I knew was infatuation. I didn’t know what it meant to truly feel seen, to truly feel drawn to someone.”

Anakin pauses and she gets the feeling that whatever he says next will be calamitous.

“Until I saw you again, that day outside the palace.”

Her lips tremble and her breath shudders, an icy chill frosting over her skin. To think he’s thought about her everyday since their eyes briefly met in the midst of a crowded courtyard was hard to believe yet, when she looks at Anakin Skywalker now, she sees the softening of his brow, the quiver in his lips, the honesty in his eyes.

She’s only ever imagined one look in his eyes. Desire.

But she looks at him now and finds an entire galaxy— there’s longing, there’s earnest, there’s optimism, there’s burning. As it turns out, living creatures are not black and white like she initially thought them to be. Anakin Skywalker is a complex creature, made of flesh and blood and of an intricacy she’d never stopped to consider before.

He’s even better than she’s imagined he’d be.

Every moment spent under the stars, praying that she’d one day have a place among them, that she one day would sit among them with purpose rather than in an ellipsis suddenly begins to feel like it wasn’t all for nothing after all. Every prayer she’s whispered into the night breeze with Anakin Skywalker’s name in it suddenly feels like they begin to matter, like they begin to come true.

Still, she is wary, and Anakin seems to recognize this caution.

He takes a step closer and he steals the breath from her chest, just like he had the first moment she saw him. Her fingers twitch, itching to find his, her palms tingling with the desire to feel his skin, her lips buzzing with yearning. She does not touch him, she does not kiss him, she does not do anything. She simply waits for the rest of his story to unfold and her brain aches with the hope that it will unravel into hers.

“I saw you that day at the palace to find you were already looking at me. That you were already seeing me,” he mutters, a little breathlessly. “It may have been for… for only a moment but when you looked at me, I felt…” he trails off, a furrow in his brow as he searches for the correct word. “…I felt… like something shifted.”

She watches as he rolls his lips together, watches as the moonlight catches how they glisten with spittle. Her breath catches a little bit, her gaze lingering there, her desire to lap it all up flaring.

“It felt like there was a string there between us I’d never noticed before,” he continues. “There was a connection I’d never realized until the moment our eyes met. I felt you, and I felt you see me. There hasn’t been a day that’s passed by since where I didn’t feel you, where I didn’t feel like we were connected, like we were two stars written in the same constellation.”

Her chest rises and falls to the erratic beating of her heart as Anakin draws nearer, the hand with his glove meeting her cheek with a tenderness she’d felt from no one before. She’d never realized how starved of touch she’s been until now and it feels so invigorating. Her stare drops to his lips and she feels that string Anakin must’ve been talking about, feels it drawing her closer into his mouth.

“Padmé does not love me back, and I do not care,” he says in just above a whisper, his voice rising and falling in a way that jellifies her knees, that makes liquid of her insides. “Because I am burning– foolishly, maybe, yes– for you.”

She inhales sharply and it truly feels like all her prayers are finally being answered, like she’s being inducted into her rightful place in the sea of stars. And in her constellation, Anakin Skywalker resides too.

She reaches up with a hand to hold the crook of his elbow that’s strung between them as he brings his other, ungloved hand to rest on her other cheek. She feels his skin on her cheek as the pad of his thumb soothes over the warmth of her flesh and her body quakes with shivers that roll down her spine all the way to her toes. He begins to lean in, his breath hot where it fans against her skin but she tilts backwards, just enough for him to halt, a quirk in one of his brows.

“I will not let you settle for me, Anakin Skywalker,” she whispers, admitting that insecurity still lingers, despite his words. Anakin’s eyes narrow as he uses his hands on either sides of her face to draw her in, his lips but a mere whisper away from hers when he murmurs, “settle? This is not settling. This is binding.”

Then, his lips are on hers in an electrifying bind that shatters her spine with cracks of lightning and she falls into him, her hands on either of his forearms to keep herself steady.

Anakin kisses her with an ardor she could never even dream up in all of her wildest of fantasies. He kisses her and she feels like she finally fits in her dress, as it is the color of fire and she’s engulfed in flames. He kisses her and he is the flame that lights her candle, the flame that melts her from the center, that makes heat course through her that washes all the way down to her toes. He kisses her and she is melting, right into him.

His tongue pirouettes over hers and she hums into his mouth, feeling his fingers thread through her hair. Her heart is pounding and her lips are buzzing but all she feels is Anakin, she feels the muscles in his arms, the warmth that radiates off his body and spills into her. She feels the push and pull of the passion, the yearning he’s kept inside all this time. She feels her own longing and fervor pour into him and they are floating, two clouds that collide into one another to become one.

Anakin steps forward and steps backwards until she hits a wall. When they pull away for breath, she realizes he’s backed her into one of the pillars, a vine caught in the hair on the back of her head. Their chests heave with the weight of their breaths and she watches as Anakin’s hand, not the gloved one, but the one with skin rises, following it as it reaches for her neck. She shudders when he touches her collarbone, exposed from the side of the fiery satin of her dress. His fingertips sear her skin as it drags to the neck of her dress, following the satin where it wraps around her throat, all the way to the back of her neck where the lace falls.

Her breath catches when his fingers find the small strings keeping her dress together. Her gaze finds his again to find he’s already staring, a narrow, earnest look upon his face that darkens his eyes and hardens his features. There is a silent question that hangs in the air between them: “do you want to stop?”

Maybe they’re moving too fast. Maybe this is crazy, maybe they’re simply caught up in the moment, high off the feeling of burning for someone who burns for them too. But after years of pining, of waiting, of praying, it only feels right.

But still, she asks, “what if someone sees? Someone like Obi-Wan who can get you in trouble?”

Anakin shakes his head, “they won’t. Now, I don’t want to talk about Obi-Wan. Do you want to stop?”

The shake of her head is all Anakin needs to see before he unlaces the strings holding her dress together, the satin falling like a spark blazing down the frayed edges of a rope until it pools at her elbows. Her breasts spill from the dress and the night’s ghostly whisper chills her skin, peaking her nipples.

Anakin’s eyes devour and she is prey.

His stare pierces through her skin to the marrow of her bones that catch a chill and she quakes. He meets her eyes again as his hands drift lower, dipping until they finally find her chest. A sharp gasp escapes when his palms cup either of her breasts and she arches into his touch, already aching for more.

“Anakin!” She gasps in a breathy exclaim when he dips his chin to press a kiss over the top of one of her breasts, heat blossoming in his lips’ wake. His eyes catch her again, a little warily. “Is this okay?” He asks, his voice low and gravely, scratching the itch in her brain she didn’t even know she had. It makes her knees feel weak and if it hadn’t been for his body pressed up against hers, she would’ve crumpled straight to the ground.

“Yes,” she breathes, chest heaving into his palms. “I’m sorry, I’ve just… never…”

Anakin’s lips curve and she can see a flash of white peek between them. He shakes his head. “Me neither,” he admits with a breathy laugh and she titters too, grateful for the fact that she’s not the only one who’s a little green.

“Can I keep going?” He questions and his voice is liquid desire, melting straight down to her core. She swallows the lump that’s formed in her throat, nodding. “Please,” she adds, feeling her heart beat straight into his palm.

Anakin’s head dips again and she watches, cheeks warm as he places an open-mouthed kiss just above her nipple. His palm kneads the other breast as his lips venture just an inch lower, finding the peaked bud that awaits, suckling it into his mouth.

It’s like electricity flooding through her veins.

She throws her head back, lips falling agape as her eyelids snap closed, soaking in the pleasure of Anakin’s lips on her nipple. He cautiously flicks his tongue against the bud, watching through his lids as a moan falls from her lips, encouraging him to do it again. He flattens his tongue against her nipple and licks a long, fat stripe from the underside of it up, feeling her tremble in his arms. He lets go of her breast with a wet pop, trailing kisses through the valley between them to make his way to the other.

Touching him, feeling him, kissing him is somehow even better than she’d ever imagined, even after all those years of dreaming for moments like this. She can’t believe she’s gone so long without feeling him like this, she doesn’t think she can ever stop touching him.

Anakin suckles on her breast, flicking his tongue against her nipple as his hand not wrapped in a glove ventures down her body, past her waist, down her hip. He pulls the satin material of her dress up until his arm can sneak his way beneath it and she shivers when his fingers find her center over her underwear. Her nails dig into his sleeves above his shoulders, holding her breath as he finds the wet spot in her underwear, gently pressing against it.

Her hands tighten on his shoulders and ceases all movement, peering up at her. “You’re wet,” he says rather matter-of-factly because of course she is, how could she not be? She nods down at him, swallowing thick layers of saliva down her throat. “Can I touch you here?” He asks and his voice drops to that silky, velvety tone that makes her core ache. She presses her lips together to stifle her groan, head vigorously nodding up and down.

“Gods yes, Anakin,” she moans, slowly rocking her hips against his finger. “Please.”

She feels filthy in a way for asking, for needing friction so desperately. She’s only ever taken her own fingers when she’s too lost in pleasure at night to sleep, never been touched by anyone else but it’s all she craves now, for Anakin’s fingers to touch her, for him— whatever part it may be— to be inside her.

A flame had been ignited in the pit of her belly long ago, back when Anakin first stepped through the door the day they met. It’s sat stagnant for too long, waiting for its moment to further bloom and now it has. It blossomed when her eyes met Anakin’s that day in the courtyard but it’s now in full bloom, now that they burn together, now that his kisses have seared her skin, now that his fingers are pulling her underwear down her thighs, just enough that he can reach her center.

When his fingertips brush her clit, she bursts.

Anakin’s arm wraps around her waist as she practically collapses into him, his middle finger drawing circles against her clit, his breath hot as his lips rest on her brow.

“Is this good?” He asks against her forehead. “Do you feel good?” He questions again as he adds his forefinger to the mix, applying just a little more pressure and it makes her eyes roll.

“Yes, just… just don’t stop,” she exhales, feeling her stomach twist itself into a knot, his fingers against her clit threatening to pull it undone any moment.

So he doesn’t.

He’s unrelenting in the way his fingers press to the aching bud in her center, tracing tight circles until her eyes squeeze closed so hard, milky-ways shimmer behind her lids. He dares venture lower, gathering her slick on the pads of his fingers as he teases near her entrance. It’s a foreign and strange feeling, it’s a pattern she’s traced many times with her own fingers but never been touched by someone else. Even in spite of how many nights she spent trekking that path wishing it was Anakin’s fingers instead, but it’s still strange feeling him there now.

She clutches his arm tighter and he slows, beginning to retract his hand. She stops him, lifting her head until their eyes meet again.

“No,” she pants, shaking her head. “Don’t stop, just… just take it slow.”

He nods, his finger a little unsure as it circles her entrance, unintentionally teasing until she begins to crack. She’s panting, trying to wiggle her hips so that she can draw his fingers in, seeking that feeling of being full. Anakin dips his forefinger into her hole and she tosses her head back, her lips parting for an “oh” to emit.

He watches her face, even if she can’t see it, she can feel his gaze behind her closed lids. He is testing the waters, learning what makes her moan, what makes her squirm, what makes her come. Slowly, he sinks his finger further in and she feels every single millimeter that drags along her walls until he’s knuckle deep. Her legs feel like jelly and her knees begin to wobble, nails clinging to his sleeves like they were her lifeline.

Pressure builds in the pit of her belly as Anakin carefully retracts his finger, just to sink it back in again, a slow, cautious rhythm that leaves her mind spinning. His fingers are so much bigger than hers and she already feels so stuffed despite it only being one finger. Somehow, it’s too much and not enough at the same time.

“Ana… Anakin,” she gasps, peeling open her lids to find he’s already looking. His finger slows but picks up its pace again when he realizes she’s not in any pain. “Another.”

His brow dips and his head tilts in confusion, uncertain what she means. She gathers moisture on her lips, trying to speak through the pleasure-driven haze in her mind.

“Another finger. Please.”

Their eyes lock and there’s a flicker in his, a hint of doubt.

“Are you su—“

“Please.”

So, Anakin gathers her lips with his and she mewls into his mouth when he presses his middle against his pointer, sinking them into her cunt until they reach as far as they can. She’s trembling against him but he keeps her upright, with his arm and with his lips.

Just one of Anakin’s fingers had made her feel stuffed but two of his fingers made her feel full to the brim. Her walls clench around his fingers and she gasps his name like the beginning of a prayer, pleading for more.

It’s a twist on the prayers she recites to the Maker every night. It’s rewriting her every broken hymn, transforming it into something entirely new. She moans Anakin’s name and his fingers turn it into a song so that she cries like a dove into the night. The Maker may have left her feeling broken, wasted, unimportant but Anakin has found her, patched her up, polished her until she’s brand new.

The tangle in her belly begins to rupture, slowly unraveling and so she pushes his arm away, his fingers sliding out of her cunt, her walls pulsing with the loss. They both pant and Anakin’s face hardens in question as his chest heaves.

“What is it?” He asks, searching her face.

She gathers air deep in her chest. “I want…” She trails off, her embarrassment washing over her cheeks in blood. Her gaze drops and Anakin tilts his head to find it again, their eyes locked. He says nothing, only the nod of his head encourages her to continue. “…I want more. I want… I want you to…”

She purses her lips in frustration. For heaven’s sake, she’s talking to the man who just had his fingers inside of her mere moments ago. Why does she feel embarrassed now?

She takes another deep breath, mustering the courage to tell what she truly wants. “…I want you to feel good too.”

Something shifts in Anakin’s eyes. It could be easily mistaken as a trick of the light but she sees it, she feels it. Anakin is burning just the same as her, his pupils becoming a backdrop behind the fires of desire, and she burns within it.

She watches as Anakin’s hand sinks below the belt around his middle, all the way down to the waistband of his trousers beneath his dark tunic. She watches with her breath lodged at the base of her throat as he pulls down his pants, just enough for his cock to be set free and oh, it is just like her dreams but even better.

Nothing could have ever prepared her for the sight of Anakin Skywalker’s cock. Not even the wildest of her dreams could ever capture the essence of the art of Anakin Skywalker. He is handcrafted by the gods themselves— he is the physical embodiment of masterpiece.

He steps forward and towers over her, his breath like smoke rolling over her face. She peers up at him, her chest heaving with the effort of breathing. His hands find either side of her face and she stops breathing altogether, wondering what he will do next.

Then, “put your arms here,” he whispers, guiding her arms over his shoulder. “And hold on.”

She squeals when he drops his hands to the undersides of her thighs, lifting her off the ground so that her ankles lock behind his back. Her arms tighten around his neck as he presses her back against the pillar, his chest pressed into hers. She can feel his length as it’s squeezed between either of their bodies and her walls clench around nothing, practically sobbing to feel him inside.

For a moment, the world stills around them and it’s like when she sees him in the audience during Padmé’s wedding. The night stirs and blurs until it’s dark watercolor, but Anakin is what she sees in high resolution. It’s the perfect mirage— she and Anakin feel like two stars in the middle of the black abyss above, forming their own little constellation.

And when Anakin finally slides himself inside of her, she feels like her place in the sea of stars has been cemented. She finally feels like she’s where she belongs.

a/n; SO! MY LONGEST IMAGINE YET.... may or may not have gotten a bit carried away (more like a little too wordy...) BUT! i really hope some of you enjoy and i truly appreciate anyone who reads this all the way through. i know 10k words is a lot 😭 also i hope this doesn’t seem too insta-lovey… this idea just came to me in a dream so i wrote what I dreamt lol

💫 if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the world to me 🫶

TAGLIST

@your-nanas-house

@chaoticevilbakugo

@k1ttenmittonz

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #star wars anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin smut #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x you #god please

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garnishclickicon · 11 days ago

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#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #sam monroe #james kelly #stephen glass #darth vader #clayton beresford #sam monroe x reader #anakin skywalker x reader

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garnishclickicon · 24 days ago

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hi daddy :3

imagine sex pollen with anakin but instead of him getting infected it’s the reader who gets infected, but she’s too shy to crawl all over him and beg him to fuck her, so he mans up while knowing the pain she’s in and fucks her brains out

🫧

18+, smut, sex pollen.

I did a little blurb for my little bubble. I was picturing AOTC Anakin. This is also my first time ever (?) writing sex pollen.

"Tell me if it hurts," Anakin's voice trembles, nerves wrecking the little confidence he musters around you. Guiding the tip of his cock to your dripping hole, a shiver runs down his spine, raising goosebumps on his tan skin. You are so wet, in a way that despite his lack of experience... he is sure it can't be normal.

"Just do it," You whimper, your boiling skin glowing with sweat. The craving is unimaginable, the ache between your legs is unlike anything you've ever been through before. You tried to hide it, to bite your tongue and sink your fingers inside you as deep as you could reach, but everything was futile. "Please, Ani. It hurts, I need you inside,"

Swallowing, Anakin nods, incredibly aroused at the thought of his cock being the only thing that can apparently bring you the relief your body is yearning so hard for.

As delicate as possible, he pushes in, gritting his teeth at the overwhelming feeling of your overly slick walls. You moan loudly, closing your eyes and feeling a wave of relief. It's not enough, though, far from it. "Just move, I don't care," You urge him, the words that trail down your tongue sounding foreign to your ears. "Fuck me, Anakin."

Something snaps, and the next thing he knows, he is slamming into you with a force he never imagined he'd have. The cheap bed creaks, the wooden headboard slamming against the wall repeatedly. Not only your body was elevated to a point where his hands over your bouncing breasts and fingers pinching your nipples could alleviate your misery— but the deep, sharp thrusts fueled by years of repressed lust, affection, and borderline obsession are mixing into an intoxicating feeling that drowns your senses like a fine liquor.

"Next time—" Anakin chokes, gripping the underside of your thighs, fingers digging into the pillowy flesh. "Next time don't go fucking sniffing flowers around," A bead of sweat rolls down his cheek as he pushes your knees closer to your chest. "Or if you do, take me with you so I can fuck you again."

#aotc anakin #aotc anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader

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garnishclickicon · 24 days ago

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im just thinkin’ of pegging Anakin Skywalker or Sam Monroe because both of them would be acting like they don’t like it. Then they’ll become a whiny lil slut once they accept how good it feels.

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garnishclickicon · 24 days ago

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Scott and Sam Monroe - SMUT

twins!Scott/Sam Monroe x reader

𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙢𝙣 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚

„Yo dude! How about we invite y/n over???“ the blond texts his twin. Both of them had the hots for you. Popular girl at school i mean who wouldnt? But BOTH??? Too much maybe..

First you had your eyes on Scott, Sam was just too.. emo for you. Scott tried everything to get you to come over at his house, so when their mom and stepdad left for a trip and left the two teenage boys alone, Scott invited you.

„Is your brother gonna be there too.?“ you ask sweetly as Scott walked you to your locker.

„Yep he‘s home too.. that okay?“ he asks you. Both of the guys wanted you, you had no idea. They made plans to get you.. because if one twin can have you, the other surely can too.

„Yeah.. its alright… m‘home alone as well, i might sleep over..“

Oh yeaaahhhh baby, jackpot.

„Sure you can, babe.“

You smile softly at him, Scott was always so nice, unlike his brother who was a skank to everyone. Moody guy.

„Alrightyyy, i‘ll be over after school. See ya, Scotty..“

Scott knew he had you, and he had you good. Quickly texted his brother.

„We got her dude, now you just gotta charm her as well. She doesnt like you. Loser.“

Sam rolled his eyes at the message but quickly replied with:

„Oh she‘ll be all over me before you know it, bastard.“

He finished his smoke and got into his car outside of school where he waited for the uglier version of himself.

Later that afternoon you came over. Sun was already going down. It was a warm spring day. You ring the bell and Sam opened the door.

„Hey peachy c‘mon in. Make yourself at home.“

You roll your eyes at him. „Yeah yeah.. where‘s your brother?“

„You looking for Scott?? You‘re having both of us tonight, sunshine.“

That made you groan. You made your way to the living room where Scott was at. Charmy, pretty boy Scott. „Hi Scotty!!“

He got up and wrapped his broad arms around you. „Heyyy, babe. Made it alright?“ He asked you with a smile on his face, showing his perfect set of teeth. You nod softly at him and mumble a faint „mhm“

As the three of you sat on the couch, you quickly got fond of Sam. He was actually really nice.. to you at least. Through the night he smacked Scott on the head multiple times which made you laugh out loud.

„Sam!!“ I giggle.

„What?? Im making him pay up, peachy.“

You shake your head and laugh, Scott wrapped his arms around you and held you close, whining.

„He hurt me and youre laughing about it..?“

„Awww baby calm down…“ you stroke his hair gently.

Sam got jealous at the sight. He wanted your affection as well, why didnt he also get it from you? He took a smoke break outside.

„What‘s wrong with him…?“ you ask Scott.

„Dude‘s jealous, wants you too y‘know?“

That clicked something in you. Both of the Monroe Brothers wanted you… Ohhh so that‘s what Sam meant when he said you were having both of them tonight.

You got up from Scott‘s embrace and decided to check up on Sam. „I‘ll be back, dont miss me too much.“

As you made your way to the backyard, you saw Sam just staring at the pool. You approach him and tap his shoulder. „Mad at me..?“ you ask innocently.

„No.. no not mad at you.. dont worry, peachy…“

You crawled onto his lap, since he was sitting on a chair. He gasped and wrapped an arm around you as he continued smoking his cigarette. Deciding to be bold.. you plant a kiss onto his neck, and he hummed at that.. „mmh.. continue.. please..“

You continued kissing his neck and he picked you up, instinctively you wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you in. Sam said to Scott. „Look who finally caved..“ Scott laughed at the sight and you abruptly stop what you were doing.

„Caved..?“ You ask confused.

„Yeah caved, sweetie. I knew you already wanted me so it was the mission to get you to like Sam too.. You cant pick one of us can you..?“

You hesitantly shake your head no.. you really couldnt choose. Both of the twins were just too.. good looking to choose.. having the same face after all, how could you possibly choose?

Sam continued carrying you and the brothers made their way to Scott‘s bedroom. Your arms wrapped around his neck like a baby and Sam kissed your forehead.

„Gonna take us both..?“ He asked and you shyly nodded.. ��I-if i manage to…“

„You will manage, babe. I believe in you.“ the blonde spoke, that boosted your confidence. They laid you on the bed and started stripping off their clothes and then helped you out of your clothes.

You started whining lightly at the touch, already having a wet spot on your panties from arousal. Scott leaned in and kissed you while Sam made his way down and kissed your other lips. You moaned into the kiss with Scott and he drunk them all up as if they belonged to him.

Eventually Sam made you cum just from lightly eating you out. Then they switched. Scott spit on his hand and rubbed his cock, making it glisten before sweetly thrusting into you. You gasped loudly, he didnt fit into you.

„Ahh.. hurts.. hurts..“

As soon as you whimpered Scott stopped all his movements, leaving you time to adjust to him. Sam kissed your cheeks and forehead as a way to comfort you. „Sorry, peachy.. you give us the green light m‘kay..? We will stop everything if you need to.“

Reassurance king? You nodded gently and made eye contact with Scott.

„Y-you can move, S-scotty..“

Scott started lightly thrusting into you as you moaned loudly. The neighbors could most likely hear you but all of you couldnt care less. Sam sucked on your tits as Scott continued his business in you.

You tangle your fingers into Sam‘s hair, tugging on them as Scott fucked your brains out.

„So.. fucking.. tight.. mmm.. fuck..“ Scott groaned as he held onto your hips.

Then Sam approched your face and his big cock slapped your cheek lightly. „You ready to take it, y/n?“

You shake your head no.. you werent comfortable blowing someone off, yet. „N-n-no..“ You manage to get out of your lips. „Oh shit he‘s really fucking you dumb? What happened to our smart girl?“ „It‘s ok, baby you dont have to suck me off..“ Sam leaned in and kissed you gently.

Scott felt himself nearing his high and he pulled out, your pussy clenched on nothing as you felt the emptiness. Sam then quickly filled you up again and you felt no difference. Blondie started jacking off to make himself cum and he came on your stomach..

„Fuck, babe. You‘re so good.. mm..“ He kissed your lips sweetly as you continued moaning desperately. After a while Sam made you cum again and you clenched around him. „aaahhh..“ he whined at the feeling as you came undone. He continued thrusting gently to help you ride out your orgasm. He then pulled away and jacked off as well, also cumming on your stomach.

He moaned at the sight of cum on your belly. „You took us so well baby.. we love you“ Scott spoke gently. Both of the guys cleaned you up and kissed you softly everywhere.

Then you all snuggled up under the sheets. You in the middle and both of them on either side of you.

The next few days were gonna be crazy

not proofread! had this in the drafts for some time wasnt sureeee so ya.

gotta work on some ideas people gave me have patience peoples

tryna change my style on here idek

taglist: @mvst4far @divineani @anakinstwinklebunny @madsluvsdilfs @ysrjune @hearts4sammonroe

#sam monroe #scott barringer x reader #scott barringer #sam monroe x reader #twins!scottandsam

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garnishclickicon · 24 days ago

Text

✧.* 𝑭𝑨𝑽𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬 𝑨𝑭𝑭𝑨𝑰𝑹 | 𝑺𝒂𝒎 𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒓𝒐𝒆

summary: you and Sam have a secret affair while your bf is his enemy. when you call him to pick you up in that slutty outfit of yours, he shows you what you‘ve missed while partying. - based on this request

warnings: smut!, arguing, cheating, mention of alcohol, smoking, oral (on both), unprotected p in v, cum, choking, orgasm denial, breeding kink, 69 position, dirty talk, dom!Sam but still whimpering here and there bc you cannot tell me he wouldn't

words: 6,5k (bro WHAT) + it‘s 5am so sorry for typos i‘ll correct later

"Don't tell me you're wearing that!" Sam's voice echoes through my room when he stares with jaw down at the dress I changed into. "Sam, it's none of your concern." I sigh, combing lightly through my curls so I don't separate them too much.

It was supposed to be a mistake, a drunken slip, a one time thing. It's been three weeks now and I can't force myself to pull away from the grip he has on me and I don't think he even knows how powerful that grip really is.

It's like I can finally breath again when I'm with him, even If it's never for long or outside our rooms. Currently he's at mine. He came over when I told him I'm getting ready for a party and well - one thing led to another and now he's sitting on my bed with his clothes back on (imagine it like in the picture at the top) watching me getting ready again.

"Are you gonna fuck him?" he asks, jealousy dripping from his voice. "No." I shake my head and glare at him through the mirror. I'm sitting in front of. Since I started sleeping with Sam I didn‘t let him touch me and Sam knew.

I notice him standing up from my bed and slowly stalking over to my chair. He leans down so his head is at the height of my ear. "| want him to fuck you, so you know I can do it better." he almost demands, suddenly tugging my head back with a hard grip on my curls I just styled so perfectly.

"Sam!" I hiss and roll my eyes at him while he still holds my head back. "You're gonna listen to me m'kay?" I gulp and loom at him through my long lashes, batting them at him. He leans closer again and I see his face upside down from my position.

"If you leave wearing that, then the second you come back I'll bend you over everything possible."

I feel the heat creeping up my neck upwards my cheeks, leaving a slight red tint behind. "You belong to me, don't forget that." he mumbles against my lips so soft that you could think he just said the most beautiful thing but his hard grip in my hair reminds me of the opposite.

I know he's obsessive, possessive, jealous. Kind of funny when you think about the fact that he's the affair with me having a boyfriend. And on top of that, his biggest rival. "Enemy" how my boyfriend James would always say.

James. He's the complete opposite from Sam. Mean, bully, rich, entitled, popular, typical jock. I forgot a long time ago why I am in a relationship with him in the first place.

I remember how he alway told me to stay away from Sam when I met him in the cafeteria in school for the first time. Not even a minute after James came and dragged me away from him, not without insulting Sam for speaking to me of course. I smiled at him apologetic, not understanding what was supposed to be wrong with him.

James said Sam's a lot into drugs and stuff but I didn't care. Half of the school is and as long as he's not harming others with it, I really couldn't care less.

I feel Sam's lips ghosting over mine, teasing me with with his hot breath. I love how he kisses me. It's always so full of life, passion and longing. When James kisses me it's just eager, sloppy and wet. Sam kisses like his life depends on it. As If he can't breathe properly but when his lips touch mine.

"Sam.." I breath out in a whiny tone. "Dress like a slut and I'll treat you like one. I don't kiss sluts." he whispers against my lips before pulling away and letting go of my hair. I sigh in frustration when he let's go of me and apply my blush with a pout on my face.

I hear him chuckle behind me, he probably saw the look on my face. "Don't pout angel, write me when you're on your way home later alright?" he grins at me, putting on his shoes and opening my window to climb out of it. I roll my eyes at him playfully, hiding a smile with it when I already feel the excitement in my chest knowing I'll see him later.

And with that he climbs outside and closes the window behind him, winking at me before walking away. It's a miracle to me how he tells me I'm a slut and how he calls me angel the next minute. He always does this, making me feel alive, giddy, like a fucking teenager.

Wait, I am a teenager. But I mean like a teenager with no experiences or one that never talked to a boy before.

I concentrate on my face in the mirror again, applying my favorite lipgloss before I take my purse and throw the lipgloss in it. "Bye Mom!" I shout through the house when I open the front door, hearing her calling me to have a good time and not come home too late.

I love her, she's not too strict and understands me, not forgetting how her life was when she was young like me. But at the same time she would kill for me and protect me from everything. It's a great balance. She trusts me and I don't overstep boundaries.

When I arrive at the party I dressed up for, I can already smell the alcohol and weed from a mile afar through my car window. I roll it up and park a few houses further away when I see everything full of cars.

But what did I expect right? It's James, I mean everyone in either jealous of him or of me because they wanna be with him. If they only knew how easy I would trade that ticket. So of course his birthday party would explode of people. He lives in a big house, his parent's house of course but I think he mentioned something of them being on vacation for two weeks.

I grab the birthday present that rots since two weeks at the backseat of my car and get out of it, making sure that I closed the doors properly. My stomach wrenched and the closer that I get the more my head is starting to get dizzy from all the weed clouds around me.

I greet a few people that I know, hug some of my 'friends' from our friend group and slowly get inside. The air inside is a little better but still smells like alcohol and sweat from the dancing body's in the big living room. "Y/N!" I hear someone shouting over the music. I turn around and notice James' best friend coming towards me.

"Hey Mike, how are you?" I ask him trying to be polite but the truth is the more seconds passed, the more I wanted to throw my gift at James and get the hell out of here. There was a time were I loved nights like these right I front of me. Where I was one of the dancing body's sweating and drinking, sometimes even smoking. But now I just felt so - out of place.. wrong.

"I'm good, I'm good. I guess you're looking for your boyfriend? He's in the backyard with the rest." I smile at him and nod, thanking him for telling me before I watch him disappearing back into the crowd.

I let out a deep breath. I got this. It's just one night. A few hours, right? And then I'll be at Sam's. God I have to stop thinking about him like that, he's just.. sex, right?

I walked into the kitchen, looking for something to normal to drink but of course they only bought alcohol. I took a red plastic cup and filled it up with tap water, taking a big chuck from it, trying to calm my nerves a little. Oh fuck it. I grabbed a whiskey bottle and filled my cup up with Pepsi and the alcohol in my hand. Yeah, that's better for calming nerves. I mean, I'm already here so why not try to have at least a little fun.

With the drink in my hand I leave the kitchen and open the glass doors t the back yard where James is supposed to be. And doesn't take me long to find him with 'the rest' how Mike said. 'The rest' is usually our friend group. I like them, I really do. But they're just.. not that deep. It's fun to party with them, go to school with them - well the ones that don't skip all of their classes, and maybe even talking about little problems like arguing with parents or fights with boyfriends and girlfriends. But that's as far as it goes.

Maybe that's the reason why I feel so comfortable around Sam. I remember the first night we had sex, he lit up a J afterwards and asked me If I wanted to. I shook my head and sat on my rooftop with him, watching the stars. I never talked to him a lot before, like I said James kept me far away from him, but still we talked abut everything that came to our minds.

Aliens, the universe, the stars, the whole fucking galaxy. How does everything work? Is the government telling us everything? Are there already people on our earth that don't come from here? Maybe it was the weed, but I don't think so. It felt natural to talk with him. Having a good laugh for the first time win months.

My heart starts to race when I think about that night with him. Sometimes I wonder If I'm - no. That couldn't be. It can't be. He would never also. Right?

I get thrown out of my thoughts when I feel two arms sliding around my body from behind. "Hey baby." a deep voice whispers into my ear. I know it's James. I smell his cologne and obviously I recognize his voice. His breath smells like alcohol, a lot alcohol.

"Hey James. Happy Birthday." I force a smile on my lips and turn around in his grip. He kisses me and cups my face in his hands, squeezing my cheeks together. "Thank's babe. Why are you standing here tho? Come on let'S go to our friends." He takes my hand into his and pulls me towards a little chill lounge where everyone sat with drinks or J's in their hands. "Hey guy's!" I greet every single one of them before sitting down next to my boyfriend.

"Here, for you." I smile at him and give im his present. "Thank you baby." he smiles brightly when he opens it and see's what's inside. "Hell yeah!" he grins and pulls out a pair of shoes. To be honest, I don't know what's so special about him but I knew he talked 24/7 about them with Mike and how hard they are to get to I asked a friend of my dad who had a lot of connections when it was about fashion.

"They are great, thank you baby." He gives me another kiss, sloppy and a little too wet. God how I missed Sam's lips and - no. "Yeah, no problem." I answer, trying to hold my smile up.

The night went by slow, my mind racing with the wrong thoughts when you're considering I'm sitting right next to my boyfriend. He has his hand on my thigh, and his other one around his red cup filled with liquor.

At some point I started to take drink after drink, probably not being able to drive later. I took out my phone, reading some messages I have gotten. Two from my best friend Lisa, who lives in New York, sadly, and one from Sam. My heart starts racing again so I take another sip from my drink before opening it.

"How's the party going?"

I try to hide a smile when suddenly a evil little idea gets to my head. Everyone around my was busy ding something so no eyes were on me when I took a photo of James hand on my thigh and send it to Sam with a little message.

"How I wish it was your's."

I bite the inside of my cheek when I wait for an answer, not expecting it to come as quick as it does.

"Is that you'r way of showing me how sorry you are for ging out like that?"

I swallow down the clump in my throat and try to ignore the bad feeling in my stomach. Is he mad? Was it a bad idea to send him a picture? I know he's a jealous type but I already have too much alcohol in my veins to be reasonable.

I lean backwards against the lounge I'm sitting on and take another picture. This time of my face and cleavage not letting a lot to the imagination. I bite down on my bottom lip and smirk into the little camera of my phone, looking up as innocently as possible.

"How about I show you how sorry I am later?"

What I don't know is how Sam's breath got stuck when he saw my message. He looked at it, imagining how he would rip that damn dress off and fuck me through the whole night. His hand wanders down to his hard cock, massaging it slightly through his sweatpants. A quite moan leaves his lips when he stares at the way I bite down on my lip. "Little minx." he mutters to himself when he closes the picture and let's go of his boner.

"Trust me, you'll be sorry. Have fun at your little party, angel."

With a smile on my lips I put my phone away again, grabbing my cup. "Why're you smiling like that? Who texted you?" the voice of James ask me, making me jump a little. "Huh?" I look up at him when he towers his head over me a little. " I saw you texting and smiling. Who texted you?" he repeats himself, a serious look on his face.

I sigh when I knew how this would go. I mean, he's right and If we're being honest, I'm cheating on him There's nothing romantic or noble behind this. He's right. But at the same time, he was jealous in a little meaner way than Sam is. I never cheated on James before and even two years ago when we started dating, he always accused me of cheating on him or texting other boys when in reality I've never done such a thing.

Oh, there even was a rumor once that he cheated on me with a girl from our friend group, Amanda. She's nice. But also knew it was true that she had an eye on James.

"Lisa texted me." Well, that wasn't a lie. "Oh yeah? And what made you smile about it?" he asks, glaring at me. I roll my eyes at him and look away, knowing he hates it. So I'm not really surprised when he pulls my face back into his direction and repeats himself again.

"What made you smile, y/n?" "Oh my god she's my best friend and lives in another state! I was just happy she texted me!" I groan annoyed and stand up from my seat, his hand dropping from my thigh. "Where are you going?" he calls after me but also doesn't make any attempt on following me so I ignore his words and walk back inside through the house and up some stairs that I know lead to a bathroom.

When I get inside I lock the door behind me and let out a deep breath. I pull my phone out of my purse and look for a certain name in my contact. I hold it against my ear when it starts ringing on the other side. Not even two rings later he picks up.

"What's up, angel?" Sam smiles into the phone. "Miss you.." I mumble into the phone, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub behind me. I hear him chuckling. "Then leave, it's that easy." "You know its's not." I argue, pouting while looking into the mirror over the sink. I run a finger over the corner of my mouth, taking off a little of my smudged lipgloss.

he sighs into the phone now too so I continue talking. "he's gonna ask where I'm going and then will insist on one of his friend bringing me home just so he knows I'm not going anywhere else. And If I go without telling him he'll literally stand in front of my house after at least an hour."

"Break up with him." he says. "What?" I gasp, surprised he said that. I mean yes it is obvious that I should but not one time one of us really spoke these words. "You're not happy with him and you'll never be. You should find someone where you are." Someone. I don't know if it's the feeling slowly creeping up my neck and spilling over after holding them in for so long or simply the alcohol but I only scoff and roll my eyes.

"Yeah, right. Someone." my voice sounds cold and distant, pissed. "Y/n was you know what I mean.." "No, Sam. Actually I don't" Silence. And another sting I feel in my heart.

"See you, Sam." I chuckle sarcastically and press the red button on my phone. Not a second later I hear someone knocking on the door. "Y/n? Are you inside??" I groan when I hear James voice. God why can't he just leave me alone.

I stand up from the bathtub and walk over to the door, unlocking it. "Oh, Mike." I say, realizing it's not James. "Uh- James told me to look after you." "Oh, great? And he couldn't do it by himself?" I scoff, pushing past his best friend. I hear him sigh too and walk after me. "You know how he is." "An asshole?" I state, looking at him. He just grins and shrugs. "It's fine. I just wanna be alone for a moment, okay?" "Okay." He nods slowly and leaves.

I really don't know why he's keeping up with James bullshit. He's way too smart and nice for all of this. Well, just like me.

Still annoyed I wander through the hall of this ridiculous huge house, scanning all these portraits and pictures on the walls. My parents are rich too, really rich but this is just.. hideous A family of 5 living in a house as big at the fucking White House.

My mind races with thought when I suddenly hear voices whispering and giggling. I knit my eyebrows and try to be as quiet as possible to hear them again. They lead me to a big door to which I press my ear against. I recognize the voices but I couldn't quite put my finger on who they were so nosy me slowly opens the door a little just to take a little peep.

I didn't expect to see what was I front of me. My boyfriend. And Amanda. Making out on a couch. "When are you finally breaking up with her?" I hear Amanda whine like the little bitch she is. "I don't know. I told you this is just a one time thing Amanda." he answers.

What is going on? "One time thing? You're telling me four months are a one time thing for you?" she argues back. What did she just say? Four months? I close the door and take a step back.

I mean I know I'm cheating on him too. I'm no saint. But fucking four months? At the same time, I go inside myself for a moment and try to feel anything. But nothing. Not a single tear, not a single ache in my heart. I feel.. relieved? Am I crazy? My boyfriend of two years cheats on me and I feel relieved?

I quietly walk back down the hall, back down the stairs to the party. It's over. It's fucking over. I feel a smile creeping up my face when I walk outside into the backyard again. "Hey y/n, everything good?" A girl named Jessy asks me. I smile at her, almost laughing. "I'm feeling as good as never before." A giggle slips out my mouth when I sit down and take another drink from the table. They share a few looks but I couldn't care less.

I take out my phone and open the chat between me and Sam. Just now I see he texted me right after our phone call.

You know what I meant y/n.

It's complicated.

Please don't ignore me.

Are you still coming over later? I miss you

Miss your tight litte pussy around my cock

I roll my eyes at the last message but chuckle.

Oh and I know you just rolled your eyes at that

Wanna see your pretty (your eye color) eyes roll back when I fuck your attitude out of you

I quickly type in my answer, sending it with no regret now.

Can you come pick me up Sammy? I'm drunk and I want you, please.

Of course angel. Where do you want me to park? The street before the main?

Just park in front of the house

He was surprised at my massage but shrugged it off.

Alright. Gonna be there in 30.

I tucked my phone away again, taking in a deep breath. The excitement crept up in my chest again. Now that I knew James cheated on me too, I had a much less guilty for doing it with Sam. Old me would have ripped her hair out when I saw her sitting on my boyfriends - ex-boyfriends lap. But you know what? Let her have him. I know he's bad in bed. Let her realize one day she's off better.

After only fifteen minutes I heard them coming outside together, giggling slightly before sitting back down and pretending nothing happened. I played dumb and smiled at James. "Hey, where have you been? I looked for you." Yeah, let him sweat a little. "Oh uh- I looked for you too, I've sent Mike to tell you." he grumbled, glaring at his best friend.

"Hm, weird. And why did you came outside with her?" I point at Amanda, who looks at me like a deer in the lights. "She uh- she helped me. She helped me looking for you.." he stumbles over his own words.

I just nod when I felt my phone vibrating.

I'm here. Drove faster.

I smile at Sam's message and stand up without saying a word. "Where are you going?" James asks, this time following me. Amanda and Mike stand up too, following him like fucking puppy's.

"Home." I say, shrugging with my shoulders without looking at him. " You're drunk. Let Mike drive you home, he didn't have that much." he tries. "Oh don't worry, my drive is already here silly." I giggle, my stomach tingling in the best way possible when I see Sam's car lights through the windows.

"What do you mean?" James asks me mad, walking a bit faster now to keep up with me. I walk through the living room again and then outside the front yard where I see Sam leaning against the passenger seat door.

Before walking towards him I stop and turn around. "James, it's over. I'm not mad at you okay? I did the same. I'm just so relieved that you obviously feel the same about our relationship." He looks at me dumbfounded. "What are you talking about?" I roll my eyes and laugh at his words. "Oh come on. I saw you and Amanda and I heard you too and don't even try to deny it please cause I'm fucking someone else too."

I see the anger creeping up his face, ignoring the fact that he's cheating on me completely. "WHAT? Who the fuck are you talking about?" Then it hits him. He looks at me and beside me in the distance, he recognizes Sam standing against his car.

"You've got to be fucking kissing me you dumb slut!" he starts shouting and insulting me but I turn around and walk to Sam. I notice him looking at me confused but I just straight walk towards him, push myself against him and kiss him with all the passion inside me, in front of everyone.

I hear James yelling in the background, Mike probably holding him back. Sam's lips move against mine, his hands wandering up my sides, gripping the flesh beneath his fingers. "Fuck, what's that all about huh?" he mumbles against my lips, pulling away slightly.

Out of nowhere I feel the heat pooling in my stomach, yelling at me to finally fuck him. "I want you Sam. Want you to fuck me stupid." I had to giggle, I can't stop it. God he has to think I'm ging literally crazy but he just bites his lips and pushes me inside his car, driving off with me.

"What happened in there?" he chuckles and gazes at me for a second before returning his eyes back to the road in front of us.

"You'll never believe! When I hang up I wandered around the house and found him with Amanda, making out and her saying that they are fucking for four months now. And I - I just felt so free all of a sudden. No tear no anger, nothing. Just free." I ramble my words down, smiling the whole time.

"So I got you for myself now huh?" I don't know why but my cheeks burned like hell when he said that. Did he want me for himself? I mean yeah well who wants to share but like- does he want me or want me?

When we arrive his house, he parks in front of the house, helping me out of the car and inside the house. "Your Dad home?" I whisper to him when we walk up the stairs to his room. He shakes his head and grins devilish. "He's camping or something. Means you can be as loud as you want, angel." I bite my lip at his comment and rush upstairs with him, him basically throwing me onto his bed but upside down, so my head is at the edge of the bed.

"Remember what I told you If you go out in that outfit, I'm gonna fuck you over everything possible?" he remarks with his voice so raspy in my ears. I bite down on my lip again, nodding and trying to hide a smile but failing miserable. "This will be the last time you're laying on this bed for tonight." he grins down at me and leans down towards my lips, licking over my bottom lip before kissing me.

I hum against his lips when I feel him nibbling on mine. When he pulls away his breathing gets heavier. Is he just as excited as I am? He puts a hand on my cheek and strokes the skin with his thumb. "You're gonna be a good girl, angel?" "Hmm of course."

"Good, then do what I say, alright?" he half demands. I see him opening his belt, and pulling down the zipper of his jeans. "You got me so fucking hard you have no idea." he chuckles while pushing everything in the way down.

No matter how often I see his cock, it always amazes me again how big he is, his pretty pink tip leaking pre-cum. He takes a step closer to the bed again and grabs my arms, pulling me so much that my head hangs over the edge. "You're gonna suck my cock and maybe I'll play with you." I nod eagerly and open my mouth for him, ready to take him in.

He takes his dick into his own hand and rubs it teasingly against my lips, biting down on his own lip. I sneak out my tongue and lick off the salty essence from his tip, letting it slide over and over it again.

"Hmm.." then out of nowhere, he pushes in, almost choking me with it. His eyes roll back before he moves his hips, fucking my mouth without giving me a moment to get comfortable. "Shit, it alway surprises me how well you can take it. Let's see how far you can." he groans, pushing his hips deeper.

I try to breathe through my nose and concentrate on pleasuring him, hoping he would reward me for it. "I'm gonna fuck your throat baby, 's that alright?" he asks before pushing in deeper after I nod slightly. "Oh fuck.." he let's out a deep groan and closes his eyes. "I can see my fucking dick in your throat baby. God that's so hot."

His gaze wanders over the rest of my body until he sees my purse beside me, my phone fallen out of it. He leans forwards, choking me even more and takes it into his hands. I see him start taking pictures of it and smiling at them like a artist who just found his muse.

Tears start forming in my eyes due the feeling of him choking me every few seconds. "Fuck you look so pretty when you cry baby but that's your fault hm. Got outside like a little slut. Remember, you act like one, I'll treat you like one." he repeats himself.

I move my tongue up and down at the side of his cock, massaging the prominent vein he has. I hear him whimper slightly, his tough facade faltering a little.

He let's his hands wander over my body, massaging the flesh beneath my dress, pinching my nipples through the fabric making me whine around his cock. "Fuck you like that, right? Think I'm gonna reward you for listening so good." he slowly pulls out his cock and let's me catch my breath. I cough a little and swipe away the tears that started to run down my face.

He looks at me expectingly and raises one of his brows. "Thank you." I choke out to which he nods and leans over my body, pulling up the front of my dress. I hear him chuckle when he notices the wetness soaking through my underwear. "You get off on sucking my cock?"

His fingers ghost over my aching clit, teasing it through the fabric. I whine out loud and push my hips up. "Please, please touch me Sammy." "Hmm but I', already touching you. Gotta be more specific."

"Pleeease, need to feel your mouth. Please." never in my life would I beg any man like that. But for Sam to touch me I would get on my knees and start praying.

He pushes my underwear to the side and laps at my puffy folds, tasting me and groaning. "You taste so good.." then he starts sucking my clit and I almost faint at the feeling. I let out a silent moan, bucking my hips but he presses them down and slightly nibbles at my clit.

"Fuck Sam!" my scream echoes probably through the whole house. "Suck my cock again." he mumbles against my pussy, adding a finger and teasing my entrance with it. I grab his hard cock and wrap my lips around the tip, sucking on it with a lot of pressure. "Oh yeah.." he groans against me, sucking harder on my nub.

I feel his finger entering me slowly, then another one so it's two and curling them up just right. I let out a long moan around him, squeezing my eyes shut. I take him deeper until he hits the back of my throat.

He groans against my clit, making me moan around his cock because of the vibration. It's like an endless circle of pleasure.

He starts pumping his fingers faster, flicking his tongue over my clit like he knows every inch of my body. Well – he does.

Then I start feeling it, the fire pooling in my abdomen. My walls clench around his fingers, signaling him I'm almost there. He let's go of my clit and continues pumping his fingers. "Are you close baby?" he asks tauntingly and puts his thumb on my now sensitive clit, rubbing it without any mercy.

I cry out around his cock, tears running down from all the pleasure around me. Never ever did James make me feel like this just from oral. Then, right before I explode, he stops. Pulls out his fingers and let's go of my pulsing nub, even pulling his cock out of my mouth.

"Sam!" I cry, bucking my hips into the air. "That's for leaving in that fucking dress." he whispers, kneeling down so his face is in front of mine. I huff out some air, pouting when I lose my orgasm.

He grabs my should again and pulls me up, away from the bed. He pushes me towards his desk with a mirror on it, grabbing my neck. " 'm gonna fuck you from behind and you're gonna watch yourself in the mirror, yeah?" "Yes." I answer, leanin forwards, my upper body on his desk now. "Spread your legs." he commands and pushes them apart with his knee.

"Look at that, I don‘t even have to fucking touch your dress, you‘re such a little whore." he spat when he sees my dress isn't covering my ass anymore. A sudden pang hit's me. I look over my shoulder back at him and see him grinning at me, slapping my ass again but this time a lot harder.

I moan when his hand hits my skin, making him smirk even wider. "I should have known you're gonna like that." he pulls my underwear down and positions himself at my entrance. "Beg for it, wanna hear what a little slut you are for me."

"Hm yes your slut only.." I moan and wiggle my hips against him, hoping for some friction. "Please Sam, I need to feel you inside me, please. I've been so good, please." my begging is like music to his ears and before I can see it coming, he pushes inside me with one go.

"Oh fucking hell!" he groans loudly, his mouth wide open and his eyebrows pushed together. "Fuck Sam, I feel you so deep!" I whine, grabbing the edge of the desk. He starts moving his hips, slowly at first and then fast like never before.

The sound of his thrusts, his skin slapping against mine could be heard through the whole house together with our moans and groans. Thank god his Dad is camping.

His right hand finds it way around my throat, squeezing it just lightly to make me feel lightheaded. "Look at yourself." he demands. I bite my lip when I watch him through the mirror. I could see the sweat on his forehead, a few hair strands clinging to it. His eyes are slightly hooded from the pleasure he felt every time my walls massaged his cock just so perfectly.

"So fucking tight I swear If I didn't knew better I would think you're a fucking virgin." I love how dirty his words are, every time. "God, you're milking me." a little whimper leaves his lips when I squeeze my walls around him, the sound going straight to my core, making me clench even more. Like I said before, just a circle of pleasure.

"You know what's the best of it all? At first it was more about fucking his girlfriend, knowing she's coming around my cock. But now I have you all to myself and I'm gonna die before I let anyone else touch you ever again. You're mine now, angel." he pants and Strats to move his hips in a brutal pace now, making me scream out his name.

"Yeah, scream my name so loud the whole fucking neighborhood knows who you belong to, come on." The grip of his hand around my throat get's tighter, making me dizzy but also so soaked.

"I'm gonna fill you up so good until your little cunt is dripping with my cum." I gasp at his words, my walls clenching around him automatically. "Oh you like that baby? Like the idea of me pumping that pussy full with my cum? Shit, you're like a fucking dream. Just as sick and dirty as me." "Sam.. please.." I whine, sobbing at the thought of his words.

"Say it baby, say it, come on. Let me hear it. Fucking let me hear you beg for it." he groans, his cock already throbbing inside of me, ready to bust. "Oh Sammy please, please fill me up. Come inside of me, wanna feel it so bad." I let out a few sobs again, watching him react to my words in the mirror.

His eyes roll back and one of his hands wanders around me, rubbing my clit in circles, adding to the tight feeling in my stomach. "I'm so close.." I whimper, closing my eyes.

"No no no, you're gonna watch yourself come around me." I open my eyes again, feeling tears pooling inside my eyes. I look at the desk beneath me, rocking back and forth, all his school stuff already on the floor. "Sam, please let me come, please."

He lets out a dark laugh and slaps my ass again with much more force than before. "Want me to fill you up real good? Wanna feel my cum dripping down between your pretty thighs? Wanna walk around with my baby inside you? Fuck you would be such a good mommy hm.."

My eyes roll back at his words and the crushing feeling finally explodes inside me, a broken cry leaving my lips when I finally come around him, milking him so good.

"Fuck y-yes oh I'm gonna come. Gonna come in that tight pussy." a whimper leaves him again, adding to the crushing orgasm I have. His grip on my hip and my throat get's tighter, so tight I almost can' breath.

With a loud moan he let's go, spilling his hot seed inside of me. "Shit.." I whimper, feeling him flooding my cunt. When I slowly calm down again, I look over my shoulder, seeing him panting heavily, his chest rosing up and down. He slowly pulls out of me, a little whimper leaving me.

He takes a step back and smirks the he scans my body, his cum running down the inside of my thighs. "Hmm looks so fucking good." He comes closer again and pushes his cum back inside. "Keep it there." he whispers inside my ear, leaving shivers down my spine.

He pulls me back up and hold me when he notices my numb legs. "Don't think I am done with you angel. I said on every fucking surface."

My wide eyes look up at him but only met with his devilish looking ones. "This is gonna be so much fun, angel." he speaks before pushing me against his window, my legs wrapped around his hips.

This is definitely better tan crying after a break up.

Sooooo what do we think? My first Sam Monroe fic 🤝🏻

hope u liked it and thank u for reading! 🖤

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xoxo sarah <3

#sam monroe x y/n #sam monroe x reader

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garnishclickicon · 25 days ago