#anakin skywalker / modern appearance

[pararararablof]

Inspired by this tweet, More to my modern Obikin family AU

[forever--darling]

say yes to me

summary: anakin skywalker was like a forbidden fruit, the roommate to the guy that had been sleeping with your roommate for most of the school year. the very man who lived just down the hall from you & quite possibly the only man who was capable of silencing you, because he made you that nervous. you thought he had disliked you, despised you even, but it turns out when you lose one pair of red lacy underwear in the laundry room, that isn't quite the case.

pairings: anakin skywalker x reader

word count: 12.9k

warnings/notes: modern au, college!reader, SMUT, minors DNI, like actual filth, p & v, slight degradation, mentions of masturbation, slight enemies to lovers if you squint, dominant!anakin, public nudity (slightly), no protection mentioned (but please do use it), sorry not sorry, it had to be written.

masterlist

song inspo: lose face - daniel di angelo

Anakin Skywalker despised you. He did. He would never admit it. But it was the kind of disdain that had only appeared, almost bubbling over time since the very moment he met you, over your complete obliviousness when it came to him. Or it was more ignorance, perhaps. 

You ignored him. His existence, his looming eyes that seemed to filter over your frame whenever the two of you were in the same room together, which was often. Often since you lived in the same apartment building and your two roommates had been fucking since a few weeks into the new semester. He would have to endure your impending silence, your lack of awareness of him for hours on end, sometimes many days in a row. It was excruciating how much he disliked you. Disliked those who got your attention, even his roommate, because it was something you would never give him. 

At first, he didn’t think much of it. How could he? You were gorgeous and hot, his attraction something evident from the beginning, but you could barely exchange a few words with him, let alone meet his eyes if it ever was just the two of you in a room, this one more rare. You seemed shy. Innocent. Unwilling to be tainted by him. Something he could understand, even get behind. That is until he noticed the way you interacted with others.

You were a Pre-Law major, and Pre-Law majors couldn’t afford to be shy or even mute like you appeared around him. It was a surprise when he found you late on a Friday night in their apartment, where his roommate was hosting a party, surrounded by five guys playing cards. A drink sat in front of you, lipstick stains coating the glass in the most enticing of pinks. A low-cut top that was tight hugged your torso, making it hard for Anakin to hold in any physical sound.

You were ethereal at that moment as you tipped your head back, laughing, eyelashes batting with ease — innocence void from your lustful gaze. You were putting every one of those five guys in their place, practically pulling the cash out of their wallets from simply your tongue, all while you threw progressive law jargon their way. All of which he could understand easily, far smarter than he ever let on but it all went over their ungrateful heads. You were intelligent, so breathtaking, and completely squandering it on meatheads like the ones his roommate often interacted with, and he hated them. Hated them because you would never look at him the way you did them. 

Hated them because you seemed to despise him just as much as he did you, enough that your interactions were left to drown in the thickest silence. The kinds where his pants twitched, and he wished to force you against a wall, just so you would look at him, for once. It was all that he asked, to feel what it was like to have your eyes on his. To either face the itch he got for you head-on or come to terms that it was all in his head. That it all was manifested in the truest form of need; arousal. 

How could he though when your roommate was at his apartment a few nights a week? The last thing he needed was for her to glare at him, and take him to be some asshole with a weird obsession that lacked boundaries. He couldn’t live in that reality, not when he was so much nicer, even without the possibility of your legs wrapped around him. 

It didn’t mean it was easy. Truthfully it never was. 

Especially that afternoon as he found you parading around your apartment building’s halls, laundry basket in hand, headphones pulled over your ears. It was actually almost painful. The way your loose university sweatpants hugged low on your waist, rolled once, dipping enough that he was able to see your naval piercing. Your shirt was small, a tanktop that left little to his imagination, especially your perky nipples that stuck out enough he noticed them right away. Your hair was pulled back by a clip, but a few pieces framed your face, and even that alone frustrated him. Frustrated him that you walked around like that, almost to torture him, almost oblivious to how you looked. 

It seemed you were just as oblivious about his presence, evident in the way you walked into the laundry room on their floor, mouthing the words of the song you were listening to, hips swaying far too much, but blind to the fact that he was in the room too. Or you knew and just didn’t care. That was something he could believe, a hundred times. 

He stood a few machines away from yours, pulling his clean laundry out from the washer to put in the dryer. His eyes flickered over to your form every few seconds. It seemed to be something he couldn’t help, unable to stop the way his blue irises traced the skin along your waist and how there was nothing but a thin shirt that separated your chest from him. He knew he shouldn’t be looking at you that way. If it was anyone else, it could have been creepy, but because it was him.

You hadn’t even looked his way, your eyes never gracing his form as being the one in the room and not just another guy from the floor. Anakin was sure, though, that if it had been anyone else, you would have acknowledged them. He hated how much he thought of it. Hated how much you hated him. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, the word unable to slip as he saw you from the corner of his eye, bending over just enough to grab your dry laundry from the dryer. 

He hated how he wasn’t in front of you or behind you for the view but rather just witnessing from the side of you the way your shirt loosened around your frame enough that he could have been able to see down your shirt. He was able to see the back material of your underwear hugging your hips, though. The thinness of it taunting like it could have snapped under one flick from his fingers. 

You pulled your laundry out, slowly, almost purposefully dropping it in your laundry basket. It only took a minute or two but it felt longer when you finally stood closing the dryer door, with your laundry basket now balancing along your hip. You turned, and yet your eyes never found his, never once acknowledging his form there standing near the washer. 

He hated how his chest tightened, the way his brows furrowed in frustration because you were likely avoiding him. Without a word ever spoken, a second of some sort of acknowledgment, though you could have been sitting in his apartment later that evening, you turned towards the door. You walked out, the door falling shut before you. 

Anakin sighed, his hip leaning against the side of the washer as he stared at the spot you were once standing. His brows were still furrowed, but they relaxed, lifting instead as he noticed the left behind bright red garment on the floor. He smirked almost devishly then as he strode across the laundry floor, bent over and plucked it from the floor. 

He tutted softly then, hating himself for how he clutched the thin piece of lace underwear in his hand like it was a lost treasure. 

The apartment was dark all but for the overhead lights in the kitchen and the candles that decorated the countertop. You sat in your room, almost encompassed by darkness other than the sunset lamp on your windowsill and the lamp on your nightstand. You sat back against your pillows, university sweatpants loose along your waist, revealing most of your stomach as you stared at your phone, unable to stop yourself as you scrolled. 

Harrison had posted a picture, one from the other night when the guys had gone out for drinks. Of course, he had been there. Anakin Skywalker. You almost let out a noise at the sight of him in the picture alone. It was embarrassing. Embarrassing how you stared at it for at least a minute, and even worse when you clicked on his profile name that was tagged. Something that happened more often than it should. 

Your stomach tightened as the familiar page appeared, his profile picture enough to have your legs tightening involuntarily. It was easy to say that he was breathtaking, or perhaps the devil himself, because of just how tempting he truly was. From the way his short curls brushed along the back of his neck, the front swept out of his eyes, or his strong jaw that seemed to always appear clenched unless it was just always that sharp. His eyes. Oh god, those were the worst of all. The blue hues that you swore could burn holes into your very being. The sole reason you couldn’t even meet his gaze; not if you didn’t want him to know. 

Know about your secret attraction that actually had you aching most nights. Nights where you couldn’t help but have your hands dip in between your legs, with him being the only one on your mind, the only voice you conjure up. It was unholy. It was wrong on so many levels, how much you wanted this man, so much so, you became mute when he appeared. 

You were a fumbling idiot around him and you never had been with anyone else. Usually, you were the one who would make them squirm, but with Anakin, you found yourself dripping with a need you had never had before. It didn’t help that he was so fucking quiet, unable to say or initiate anything unless it was his eyes somehow taunting you. It was like he didn’t like you, unable to really say much if he wanted to keep the peace. 

It was torture then as you were left to do nothing but stare and scroll aimlessly on his Instagram. 

It was stupid how he was just as perfect in real life. Not a single fault to be had. Even as he stood in the laundry room that afternoon in nothing but a t-shirt and sweatpants, it had you forcibly clenching your legs shut. The way his shirt hung on his frame was still tight enough to show his muscles underneath. It was casual in a way, something you would only notice if you looked hard enough, which you tended to always do. 

There was nothing to do except act as if he wasn’t there, grab your laundry from the dryer as quickly as you could, and leave before he could say anything before it became too much that you felt like spreading your legs for him right then and there. 

As you scroll down to the previous August and a shirtless picture of him in a boat appears, you couldn’t take it. You shut your phone off, dropped it onto your bed, and fell back against your pillows. Sighing, you stared up at the ceiling hating the bloom of warmth that was appearing in your chest. 

“Hey, sleepyhead,” the knock on your bedroom door had you looking over, already expecting the view before you. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

Your roommate stood in your doorway in her shower robe, towel wrapped around her head, concealing her pale blonde hair. Her freshly spray-tanned skin glowed after her shower. As you looked over at her, she raised her brows at you, curiosity appearing.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, stiffening as she glanced at your phone left faced down on your bed. 

She hummed almost in interest but decided not to comment on it, instead taking in your appearance, still dressed in the clothes you had been in for the day as you cleaned the apartment and did your laundry, “Well then, that’s the problem. Girl, we have to be there in an hour.” 

“It’s seriously ten steps down the hall,” you rolled your eyes, “I think we can be late. Why are we going anyway?” 

“Because it’s Saturday night and he invited us.” 

“I know, but we could be going out.” 

“Why so you can go home with someone?” she asked, catching onto the heavy sight that left your parted lips. 

You felt your tongue catch along your teeth and unable to defend yourself, Iris smiled, a laugh emitting with ease as a smirk appeared. 

“That’s so funny,” she noted, so amused by your obvious frustrations, “You know there are going to be guys there.” 

“New guys?” you asked sitting up then with new-found interest, “Not like all of the ones at Harrison’s last party?”

“Well, that I can’t know for sure. You were flirting with at least four of them while you were playing cards. You know, Harrison doesn’t have that many friends, right? So every time one of them is attractive and tries to have sex with you, it’s not like he can go out and find three new ones right away. I’m sure some of them will be there, yes.” 

“Fuck.” 

“But, you know, Anakin will also be there. Apparently, it was his idea for them to throw another one tonight. So, if you want to talk to him,” her voice slowed like she realized what she was saying as it echoed in her ears. 

“Iris…” 

“What?” she laughed, “Maybe if you just talk to him, you’ll realize you don’t have to go and click through his Instagram so much.” 

“Iris!” you gasped, face already beginning to twinge with heat. 

She chuckled, but that quieted at the sight of your embarrassment. If it was any other day, she would say more, but she had had that conversation with you so many times before. It would only sound the same. “What? Right, sorry, anyway, I think Harrison did tell me he invited some guys on his club soccer team. So, I guess you can talk to them.” 

You huffed then, knowing that there was one reason you didn’t want to go the apartment down the hall, even if they did throw the best parties. “It’s just we are always there. Almost every weekend. I miss the bars. We’re legal, which means we should use them.”

“What’s wrong?” she questioned almost immediately, that furrowed look returning. 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

“You never don’t want to go to the guys’. In fact, sometimes you’re the one who suggests it, especially if they are throwing a party.” 

You were quiet, struggling to find an excuse, anything, as the thought of Anakin Skywalker flashed across your head, the picture of him shirtless still very much the screen that would appear when you unlocked your phone.

“Y/N. Speak. If this is about Anakin Skywalker, I swear—”

“I just thought something else could be fun, that’s all,” you shrugged. 

Her expression faltered slightly. She and Harrison weren’t even officially dating, and still, the thought of not seeing him that night pulled all the excitement out of her. You knew then you wouldn’t be getting your way. “I mean, we can. I would just have text the girls and tell them that—” 

“No, it’s fine. I’ll get dressed,” your voice cut hers off, a sheepish smile appearing, knowing that you had just doomed yourself for the rest of the night. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled, it slightly fake, dread appearing in your stomach, “As long as we don’t go early and we have  a round of shots when get there.”

The hallway was dim, the low lights not as bright as usual, the beige walls seeming to be the only thing able to hold your attention as you trailed after Iris, your hands nervously fiddling with one another. Sometimes you were lucky, as Anakin was not always at the parties his roommate liked to host. Other times, he would show up late, allowing you to settle and drink lots of alcohol to prepare for his presence. And rarely he never showed up at all or was there from the beginning. Tonight would be the latter, and you weren’t ready. 

Even with the two drinks heavily poured with vodka, you felt unsteady, anxious, and warm. It was like the further you walked down the hallway, the more the walls seemed to warp within your mind into a funhouse. It was as if you were high on something, distorting your sense of reality, but really, it was just your heart beating so loudly in your ears and the lack of dinner getting to you. 

You couldn’t eat, not as you paced around your room, half of your closet thrown onto the floor, one drink already leaving rings of water on your coaster upon your desk. It was humiliating. Actually, the worst thing to ever happen to you, as no man had ever done this to you. They couldn’t. It seemed impossible, and yet there you were, acting like a blithering idiot who would surely remain throughout the night until you were too drunk to notice. 

“Y/N, you’re walking slower than my grandma here,” Iris called behind you, stopping near the guys’ door, a chuckle echoing off the walls mixing with the sound of the loud music inside. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled back, trying to speed up but almost feeling as if you would fall with how much your legs were shaking. 

“Are you even going to talk to the guy?” she suddenly asked, turning to face you fully, her hands on her hips and a single brow raised. 

“W-What?” 

“Anakin. Are you going to talk to him tonight, finally? Or is this just how you’re going to act about seeing him.” 

You sighed, her words registering, making you question truly what you were so nervous about, “Iris, I…” 

“Look, if you want to talk to him, that’s fine, but if you’re just like this because he is going to be there, you need to take a second and breathe. Y/N, he’s just a guy. That’s it. A guy you don’t even talk to, trust me when I say he is not that special. You’ve spent enough time in the same room as him to know that.” 

“Right,” you whispered, suddenly finding your shoes more interesting to stare at as you felt your roommate speak. The heat in your face was only worsening, “He’s just a guy.” 

He was, and yet he drove you crazy. 

It was disappointing to find that Iris had to be the one to remind you of that when you had spent the past two years of college seeming to be the one always reminding her of that. You were the one who seemed to understand men, especially idiotic man-child twenty-something-year-olds, and yet here you stood in the hallway of your apartment complex, her finally being the one to give you the reminder. 

Sure, Anakin Skywalker was just a man. 

A twenty-one-year-old man who was quite possibly carved from the most expensive and luxurious marble and gold. He dressed in baggy jeans and warm sweaters, some of which seemed to be designer. He was quiet, unfunny at times, and was so frustrated all of the time. He wasn’t perfect, yet he seemed better than any of the guys you had liked in the past. The loose term was not used often. 

“Just a guy,” she smiled, keeping her sarcasm on lockdown as she reached for your forearm and began to drag you towards the door, “I have never seen you like this.” 

“Like what?” you asked, lowering your voice further as you stood outside of the door, confusion-filled gaze meeting her curious one. 

“You this obsessed.” 

“I am not obsessed,” you glared, finding your chest to tighten in discomfort at the thought. 

“Fine. I just mean, usually you don’t care. You never have, and somehow he has you sweating and unable to speak coherently.” 

“It’s not like that.” 

“Okay, well, whatever it’s like, it’s cute,” she laughed, it only getting louder as you bumped her side with your own, almost begging for her to stop. “You’ve never acted like this over a guy.”

“Are we going to fucking stand out here all night, or are we going to go inside?” you asked rather flatly, not caring how it sounded as long as it meant she would stop staring at you the way that she was. 

She only smirked, nothing else left to say as your face said at all. The gentle blush on your cheeks, the way you were trying to avoid eye contact, most of your confidence waning as you stood there, outside of that apartment door. 

Shrugging, she finally reached for the doorknob and opened the door with ease. The second the door was cracked, the music became increasingly louder, enough to make you cringe at the way the bass echoed in your ears. Usually, you welcomed it; the sound, the smell of cigarettes and marijuana, the stickiness on the floors by the end of the night, the way you always stumbled your way back to your apartment only a few feet away. It was a life you had gotten used to, and yet you dreaded it all that night. 

Iris stepped in with ease, and you followed, inhaling as you did with the smell of cigarettes hitting you straight in the face. Even with the windows open, allowing the winter air to bask in the room, it wasn’t enough to completely drown out the smell. I

t was dark in the apartment, all but the LED lights that hung up around the ceiling, paired with a spinning disco ball on the coffee table, which Harrison swore by every single time. 

There was maybe a total of ten people in the room so far, but you knew it wouldn’t be this easy to walk through by the end of the night. As soon as the door was shut behind you, concealing you both inside, it was like he had known she was there. All of a sudden, you heard Harrison’s loud voice from across the room, him standing from where he was leaning against his sound system. 

“Ah, you guys made it!” Harrison strode over in a pair of baggy jeans and a graphic t-shirt, his arms immediately finding Iris’ hips, giving away that he had already been drinking for a bit. “You’re later than I thought you were going to be.” 

“I texted you,” she mumbled, chuckling lightly. 

“I know, but…” his voice trailed off slightly, and his bluish-green eyes found your frame still almost pressed against the front door, and it was like he had connected the dots. “Y/N.” 

“Harrison, hi,” you smiled sheepishly while also trying to peer around him to the rest of the people that filled the living room, hoping but equally dreading catching sight of a head of short curls. 

“What, you didn’t want to come tonight?” 

He was joking, he always was, as he spun Iris around so her back was pressed to his front. You laughed, it so fake as you tried to hide it all but your roommate could see through you easily. “What? No. You're a funny guy, you know that? We always come to your parties.” 

“Yeah, but you’re usually one of the first ones here.” 

“Relax,” you rolled your eyes, “Clearly, we’re still here early enough. Great turnout.” 

“There are more people coming, asshole,” he laughed, pulling his hat by the brim down further across his forehead, concealing his blonde short, cropped hair.

“Oh yeah? Anyone worth talking to?” 

“You told her about the guys from my soccer team, didn’t you?” that question was directed down towards Iris, who suddenly peered up at her non-boyfriend boyfriend with both guilt and humor. 

“What?” she shrugged. 

His eyes found yours again, that playful look now filling yours, “They’ll be here in about an hour or so. Just can you try not to screw them over?” 

“Me?” you feigned a laugh, “I could never. How do I look, though? Something they would be interested in?” 

Doing almost a little curtsy with your Converse squeaking against their hardwood floor, you turned after a moment. Noting the baggy jeans and the black sheer tube top, Harrison laughed almost in disbelief but could only look over his shoulder towards his own roommate, who sat in the middle of their couch, legs sprawled out, head dipped back as he snubbed out the cigarette that was in between his fingers. “Hm, you know you could go ask Anakin? He has expensive taste.” 

You felt yourself freeze, hating the way they both laughed, equally looking back into the room. Following their gaze, you stiffened further as you found him, sure to be the only thing that you would focus on for the rest of the night. Especially if he were to be sitting that way for most of it. You felt like a deer in headlights as you peered over Harrison’s shoulder, eyes trailing over the way his legs were spread wide, his back leaned into the couch, and his head tilted back as he blew out rings of smoke. 

He wore dark jeans and a black knit-long sleeve; underneath the collar, his white t-shirt poked out. His hair was pushed back out of his face, and the curls along his neck and around his ears seemed perfect even in the dark. 

He would be the death of you.

Your mouth was dry, and suddenly, your fresh sarcasm was gone as he sat up against the couch, his stare almost splitting through the room to find the three of you. His expression was unreadable, almost cold, and you hated the way they found yours immediately.  

You looked away, aware of the way the other two were intently making notes about the interaction. Side-stepping into the kitchen out of eye-sight from the roommate, you glared back at Harrison, “I hate you.” 

“Nah, you don’t.” 

“I thought you said you were going to make me a shot when I got here.” 

“What do you want?” Harrison asked, his arms dropping around Iris, instead allowing his hand to find a place along her back, guiding her to follow him into the kitchen. 

“The strongest thing you got,” you suggested peering up at the masses of liquor upon the cabinets, a devilish look appearing in your eyes as you smiled innocently back at the man. 

He sighed that familiar Harrison sigh, the one where he knew there would be no stopping you that night, not as you came over with a box full of seltzers and a large handle of tequila. You were looking for trouble or perhaps something to ease the noise into nothing but silence within your mind. Either way, he couldn’t tell, and though Iris was looking at him, almost afraid to let him give you the shot that would start a very long night, she just shrugged anyway. 

A long night it would become. 

By the time it was eleven-thirty, the apartment was full of many familiar faces, the typicals you saw at almost every party, and then masses of the very unfamiliar. Some of them including Harrison’s very cute and very athletically-built soccer teammates. It had become your mission to catch at least one of their eyes quickly as if to avoid the looming stare from across the room that you were sure would have you dripping humiliatingly if you focused on him too long. 

When he moved, you did too. Further away, it seemed, anything to keep your distance, almost afraid of what you could say if given the chance to. The alcohol wasn’t enough because just knowing he was in the same apartment had you unable to think about anything or anyone else. Even when you were four seltzers deep and a quarter of the way through with the concoction that had become of your water bottle, Anakin Skywalker was all you could think about. 

It had been hours, hours of dancing awkwardly, avoiding the cards table, and yet you felt unaccomplished with the night. The ache between your legs was enough proof as it was, but you knew that couldn’t be taken care of by anyone unless it was Anakin. Even as the lanky soccer player with fluffy brown hair and bright eyes practically had you concealed against the wall in the living room, your mind was completely inept at what he was saying. 

He was hot, relatively, nothing like Anakin, but enough that you would have slept with him. His hands were ghosting over your waist, one tickling the bare skin above your jeans, the other leaning against the wall, caging you in against his warm frame. His eyes were hooded, a look in them you knew all too well, but one you were sure you wouldn’t act on. 

“You know, Harrison warned me about you,” he joked, it sounding so deep that his name somehow slipped from your mind, unable to be retrieved. 

Your lips were wrapped around the straw of your drink, eyes peering up at his through your lashes, and you couldn’t help but smile, almost like a tantalizing forbidden fruit. “Really? Is that so? And do you think you should have listened to him?” 

“No, not at all. That’s the funny part, I guess. Told me you would probably have your pick of us for the night.” 

Your smile lessened slightly as a discomfort appeared front and center within your chest. You flirted. That wasn’t something you would deny, but the way he was putting it made you feel like you were other girls that they talked to. Ready to offer themselves like a consolation prize by spreading their legs just to never be spoken to again. You flirted, but you never really gave them what they wanted, and that’s why Harrison was cautious about bringing new guys around. They would chase after something they’d never get, and you would string them along as a form of entertainment. Or that’s what he thought. 

It never had been like that, not even as guys started to notice you freshman year of college. It was never supposed to be a game but rather something else entirely. 

You shifted back towards the wall, eyes dropping to your cup, the way it was nearly empty, the last few drops clinging to the bottom of the glass. The guy spoke again, and you found your brows furrowing in discomfort. “I’m just glad it was me if I’m being honest.”

They always thought that way. That it was them. That they were something special, as if worthy of your attention, but it never was about them. 

You sighed, head falling back against the wall as his hand rose along your bare skin, almost inching to move up and under your shirt. A second of dissociation left you looking over his shoulder at the crowd of people around you, filling the living room to be full and packed. You scanned their faces trying to find anything that you knew could ground you. 

Instead, there was only one thing, one person, and it made it all so much worse. 

Peering through the room within the darkness of flashing vibrant lights and smoke, you somehow found him, only a few feet away or so. At the sight, it was almost like your legs were going to give out from beneath you. He would never not have an effect on you. It didn’t matter how stupid you felt, how humiliating it was. Inevitably, Anakin Skywalker would always have you wrapped around his finger. 

He was leaning against the wall near the sound system, surrounded by Harrison and a few of their other guy friends. His arms were crossed over his chest, arms bulging slightly under the material of his shirt. Smoke billowed around the group from cigarettes, vapes, and joints alike, yet his hands were empty. He wasn’t listening to anything they were saying. He couldn’t have been because, just as quickly as you found him, he was already peering over at you. 

His blue eyes, almost as sharp as steel as they traced your frame, pressed up against the wall under the soccer player, your drink cradled close to your chest. You almost physically shuddered, having not expected it, not in the slightest. His lips were pulled into a fine line, brows slightly furrowed in a way that made you want to ease the small wrinkle, pulling every frustration clean from his body. 

Yet you felt intimidated because, after all, it was a look that was directed at you. One that often wasn’t. 

His expression barely flickered or faltered, even as your eyes so clearly locked with his. Instead, he could only lift a single brow in your direction in interest. It was like a challenge, almost as if he was daring you to do something you would regret, something he wouldn’t like. 

“Hey,” the guy’s voice broke through your facade, a gentle mumble as his hand squeezed your hip. The feeling brought your eyes to flicker back to him but only for a second before you were glancing back at Anakin. “Are you listening?” 

You weren’t. Instead too distracted by the man across the room, whose jaw had suddenly tightened. 

“I… uh, need to get another drink,” you forced a smile, voice gentle as you gestured to the empty cup. 

“Do you want me to get it?” he asked then, yelling over the music, and you hated the way it made you feel. 

“No, that’s okay. I’ll be right back,” you replied, almost like a false promise, as you slipped under his arm, separating his frame from yours completely, and with it, a weight seemed to dissipate. The ability to breathe suddenly a grace you didn’t know you were missing. 

It was like you could feel his eyes following your frame. The coldness that was his blue orbs as you swerved your way through the crowd of people, bumping into them as you went, recognizing very few. Iris had been gone from your side for almost an hour, somehow slipping away with Harrison’s cousin to talk about probably Harrison. You had been left to fend for yourself, which was nothing new. Something you had done the whole semester prior, and yet it was the first time, you couldn’t stand the thought. 

Even as the alcohol had left you swaying, vision slightly blurred, and mind a slurring mess, there wasn’t much comfort in the feeling. You managed to squeeze you were way to the kitchen, the music enough to have your ears echoing. Sighing, you found only a few people littered throughout, mixing new drinks or leaning against the countertops to speak too closely. It would be too good to be true to find it empty.

Slipping into the kitchen, which seemed nearly as dark as the rest of the apartment, you found the corner of the countertop where you had been taking alcohol from all night. Harrison had been kind enough to offer you something better than what you had mixed, and it had become the thing you began to drink as soon as your seltzers were long since chugged. Reaching for the liquor bottle, you uncapped it and began to pour, heavier than you had been before. Mixing the remainder of the lemonade in, you picked it up, already reading for the strong sip. 

“How many of those have you had?” 

The voice was low but loud as it spoke over the music. Scaring you, you turned around on your heels quickly, the drink nearly spilling all over you if it wasn’t for his hand that came to grasp the cup, part of his palm covering your own. It was warm. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, the only vocal response to how close he was and all of a sudden. 

“Careful,” Anakin chuckled, taking the drink from your hand, to which you pouted in dismay, hating how he pulled it closer to himself. 

You stared, expression wary as he towered over you, closer than he ever had before, his eyes tracing the startled look as if he were the predator cornering his prey. His stare flickered following the way your chest rose and fell, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you stared up at him, eyes slightly glassed over from the amount of alcohol you had. 

God, you hated him. You really did as he stared down at you, smirking the way he was, only a few inches away. If you leaned closer, your chest would press against his, and at the thought, you had to squeeze your legs shut, trying to keep as much space between the two of you as you pressed yourself back against the countertop. 

A glint appeared as he noticed the way you shifted with discomfort, something he knew wasn’t a common occurrence with you. Tilting his head innocently, he glanced down at your drink, which now was in his grasp, a teasing tone emitting, “You never answered my question. How many of these have you had?” 

You shrugged, trying to wipe off the look on your face as if you could picture it was anyone else in front of you. “I don’t know. A few.” 

“How many is a few?” he demanded, eyes tracing the way you swayed on your feet, almost like he could know your head was spinning, nearly seeing two of him. 

“You want a number?” you laughed, thinking he was joking. 

His expression never faltered, “Yes.” 

“Three, maybe four, I don’t know.” 

He hummed, almost like he was dissatisfied with the answer. Instead of offering the drink back to you, he brought it closer to himself, that serious look never disappearing. “You should be done for the night.” 

“Really?” you mused, a single brow raising at his tone. 

“Yeah, in fact, I’ll finish this one off for you. Maybe try a water there, Y/L/N,” he said, bringing the cup to his lips, covering where your lipstick stains had been.

He took a sip, and you felt your blood boil out of both annoyance and something else. He wasn’t even touching you, and yet there was more of a reaction out of you than earlier when the soccer player had his hands inching up your shirt. It seemed he knew that too, and it was infuriating. 

“Anakin!” 

“By the way, your flavor of the night is looking for you. I think I saw him over by the bathroom where Iris was waiting. I’m sure he was asking about you.” 

“You know what,” you said then, raising your hands up in the air, an almost look of acceptance on your face as you slipped out from under his frame you hadn’t realized had gotten so close, “Fine.” 

With that, you walked away out of the kitchen, palm empty of your drink and heart heavy by the man who had taken it so easily from you. It was like taking candy from a baby, you almost offered it willingly if it meant getting a few more seconds being pressed close to him, his blue eyes tracing your drunken frame. 

He had gotten you then. He was under your skin, had practically dug himself a hole, and you knew you couldn’t; not willingly go find Harrison’s teammate just to think about someone else all night. How much further could you even go than flirting? You usually wouldn’t, and you definitely couldn’t, not that night, not in that state, not when Anakin Skywalker flashed through your mind on repeat, feeding the worst desires. 

The apartment was hot, still messy, lingering with stenches of alcohol, weed, and cigarettes. It was like all of the sweaty bodies were still gathered within their living room when really it was nearly three a.m., most of the lights were turned off, and the only thing that could be seen was Harrison and Iris slightly tangled on the couch. Anakin was slumped over on their second couch, now in a pair of sweatpants that hung loosely off his frame and dark long sleeve. His head lulled to the side as he stared at the TV in front of him, unable to really get comfortable on the couch with the warmth of the room. 

Unable to open the window due to them being almost frozen shut, he sat up, his feet meeting the floor. He wanted to sleep. It was the only thing he could think about; hoping it would be enough to quiet the thoughts along with the twitch of his dick. But he couldn’t, not as he felt the sweat along his eyebrow and the smell that seemed to not dissipate even long after he thought he had gotten used to it. 

“Fuck, it still smells.” 

“Well, I don’t know, maybe open the door, see if it airs out in the hallway,” Harrison said, his words slurring slightly, his eyes narrowing in tiredness. 

Anakin became deadpan then, “The door? You have got to be fucking kidding me.” 

“Or not. Whatever.” 

“Well, do we have a fan or something?” Anakin offered, standing from the couch in the darkness, stretching his arms up and over his head, “I had one, but I can’t remember the last time I saw mine or even used it.”

Harrison peered up at his roommate, a shy smile on his face seeming oblivious or rather uncaring of the problem at hand, too focused on the feeling of Iris’ head resting along his collarbone. It was then the girl perked up, her eyes shifting away from the TV and the creepy murder documentary she had recommended. 

Her blonde hair peeked up from the couch, and she chuckled lightly at the realization, “That’s because we have it.” 

“What do you mean we?” Anakin replied, brows raising slightly in interest. 

“Y/N and I…” she said carefully, “Harrison let us borrow it at the beginning of the semester when our AC system gave out. I’m pretty sure we forgot to give it back. It’s in our linen closet.” 

He stared down at her, somehow at a loss of what to say or if that meant she was willing to get up and give it to him then or expected him to wait. Before he could decide, she reached the coffee table and picked up her keys before tossing them to Anakin. 

“Here. Take my keys, you can go grab it.” 

Catching them, he stared down at it on the brass key ring, the very key that led to your apartment. An apartment you very much could have been in fucking around with one of the new guys’ Harrison had introduced you to. Anakin’s hand tightened around the keyset at the thought, a certain discomfort appearing at even the picture he could conjure up. The guy had been practically all over you all night, and you hadn’t done anything to reject his advances. Instead, you let them happen all while a set of eyes were staring at you from across the room. 

“I… uh.” 

“Relax,” she laughed, “Y/N said she was going to shower and go to bed. You’re not going to run into any naked soccer players fleeing from her bedroom.” 

“Funny,” Anakin glared, a fake smile appearing as he noticed the familiar glint that had appeared on his roommate’s face. Not ready for the constant teasing, he stepped out of the living room towards the front door. 

Walking out, he barely processed the sound of the door closing behind him, too focused on the key in his hand. It took less than a minute when he came face to face with the dark door. Tall with gold brass located in the middle displaying just how it differed from all the rest — what it meant. The numbers he thought about more often than he should. 

802. 

Fuck. He thought about it too much, so much so it felt easy to let the key slide into the hole and unlock the door with a mere turn of his wrist. Stepping through the threshold, the first thing he noticed was how refreshing it felt compared to the smell of his apartment. It was cooler in there, with a smell of almost clean laundry and vanilla. He couldn’t help but wonder if the whole apartment smelled that way or if somehow your room was different. 

The floors matched the ones in his dark paneling that showed all of the dirt that fell on them. There were a few entrance rugs he couldn’t see much in the dark, as well as the entrance to the kitchen. He wanted to look around, turn on a light to take it all in, but he couldn’t, not with you only a few doors away, possibly naked and in the shower. He felt so gross about it, that he cared so much. 

Especially as your underwear sat in the top drawer of his dresser. He had been contemplating about it all night, just how he could bring it up or return it to you. But he wasn’t sure the best approach without it coming off as disgusting. If he told Iris, she would never look at him the same, probably confused why he had them at all. Harrison would only make jokes, almost applauding Anakin, just to take Iris’ side when he tried to pass them off to her. And you, he couldn’t even think about what your reaction might look like upon finding out that he had your underwear, had them all day. 

Moving further into the apartment, he entered the vast hallway just as Iris had explained, eyes locating in the dark the few doorways that appeared. With his flashlight on, he was able to find it halfway down the hall on the left. Just as he opened the door, though, he took notice of the dim light a door down, a purple hue peeking out from it that was left cracked open. With the familiar sound of The Weekend, Anakin smirked as he picked his way through the linen closet. 

There on the top shelf was his fan. 

Grabbing it, he shut the linen closet, but halted in front of the door, a new sound grabbing his attention. A breathy sigh, almost like a huff of frustration. His shoulders stiffened slightly, stomach tightening at the sound alone. As another noise slipped, but much louder paired with the gentle lull of a vibration, Anakin knew for sure. Knew that you were getting yourself off, and he couldn’t ignore just how pretty it sounded. 

It was too much, so he stepped away from your door towards the other end of the hallway, but he had only made it two steps before he felt himself stop. 

“Ani…” The whimper was not quiet, and he felt his jaw tighten at the way the syllables formed on your lips. 

The sounds were louder, your moan breathtaking. 

Anakin’s hand cupped his dick, your voice going straight to it. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, but they snapped back open as another one echoed out from your room, this one a little more desperate. 

“Oh, Anakin.” 

He didn’t know how he didn’t drop that fucking fan. Wasn’t sure if it would slip through his fingers or if he would throw it on purpose, anything to make his presence known. Anything to make the sounds continue but due to his fingers rather than your own. He had never felt such pain then at that moment as he forced himself to walk away, the sounds of you undoing yourself deliberately with his name breaking apart across your tongue. 

There wasn’t a doubt then anymore. Not a single ounce of question. 

It seemed that was enough to know. Enough to have figured out just exactly what to do with the red lacy underwear that sat tucked into the top drawer of his dresser.

“No, fuck, where is it?”

The sound of your voice grumbling from your room droned out into the hallway. Your hands were shoved into the bottom of your dresser drawer, rummaging through the clean laundry you had folded the day before. The sole piece of clothing you were looking for was nowhere in sight. As soon as you hadn’t found it near the top when you had started getting ready for your date, you felt your chest tighten. You groaned loudly, arms balancing along your knees as you moved to find it not hidden somewhere in your laundry basket either. 

“Y/N/N, I’m going to head to work,” Iris poked her head inside, but her voice trailed off at the sight of you crouched in the middle of the room, tearing apart your dresser drawers. “What are you doing?” 

“I can’t find them,” you mumbled out. 

“Find what?” 

You sighed, almost hesitant to even say it out loud, “My panties. The red ones.” 

“The ones with lace?” she asked, for clarification, her brows raising in interest. 

“Yes, I washed them yesterday, I swear.”

“Don’t you have your date tonight?” she asked, eyes looking around the room, spotting the few outfits you had laid out across your bed and the mounds of makeup and hair products spread out at your vanity. “The one with Harrison’s teammate?” 

“Yeah, Cole.” 

At the name, a flash of recognition formed across Iris’ face. It was the same guy you had been with most of the night before at the party, practically pressed up against a wall as he eye fucked you for most of the night. By the end of it, you were so drunk he hadn’t even gotten a kiss out of you, only your number. He texted you that morning about going out for drinks and dinner. You were hesitant at first, almost inclined to say no, but then something else made you change your mind. Perhaps the sight from the night before of the smirk that laced over Anakin’s face as he teased you about Cole. No inclination at all that it bothered him, the sight of you pressed up against someone else. It was annoying, so annoying, that you couldn’t help but say yes to Cole for a date. 

What else were you going to do? 

Anakin Skywalker barely spoke to you and noticed your presence. It was a joke. All of it. 

Iris smiled smugly, then down at you as you continued to search through the dresser drawer. “And you need your red lacy panties for a first date?” 

“I mean, I don’t need them, just want them, you know, in case.” 

“Who are you right now?” she laughed, the sound bringing your attention away from your underwear drawer. Her arms were crossed over her chest, that smile still evident as a hint of amusement flashed across her eyes. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You don’t usually think about sleeping with a guy until at least the fourth or fifth date. The last time you were talking to someone, you made him hold out for the sixth date just to ask him to leave after twenty minutes of making out. And you want to wear your sex underwear on the first date?”

“I’m not a prude, you know,” you laughed too, your anxiety easing slightly even though your favorite underwear was still missing. 

“I never said you were. I’m just saying, you’re different. That’s all.” 

“Is that such a bad thing?” 

She shook her head, almost a sense of pride appearing, “No. Not at all. Anyway, I should go.” 

“Okay, I’ll see you later,” you replied over your shoulder, your attention going back to the clothes scattered around you. 

“Yeah, have fun on your date. I can’t wait to hear how it goes. Oh, and maybe try looking in the laundry room.” 

You cringed almost at the thought that they had somehow been left in there overnight, all while other people were coming in and out to do their laundry, “Right.”

Standing from your bedroom floor, you looked around the room one more time before inevitably giving up. Instead, you slid on a pair of shoes, and left the apartment, the door closing and echoing behind you. Making your way down the hall, you passed the guys’ door and the memories from the night before flashed again in your head. Anakin taking your drink, cutting you off from anything for the rest of the night. You wish you wouldn’t have listened and continued to sneak some. You didn’t have to listen to him at all. That was the funniest part, and you did it anyway. 

Entering the laundry room, the automatic lights clicked on upon your entrance illuminating the room in cascades of bright LEDs. It was warm, just like it usually was when someone was doing their laundry. The familiar rumble of the dryer and washers caught your attention. The sound of it clouded your thoughts as you approached the washer and dryer you had been using the day before. 

With one simple open of the stainless steel washer, you found it empty of any sort of clothing. You sighed, the annoyance deepening at the thought of having lost them. Expensive underwear you had bought on your trip to France over the summer. A pair Iris had to convince you to buy because you typically weren’t one for buying sexy underwear. It was the pair that opened the vault for you, leading you to not only buy so many more since then but a string of memories confined to that pair of lace, all from the few pairs of hands that had slid them down your legs with ease late into the night. 

It was your favorite pair of underwear. 

The only pair you felt like wearing on nights when you knew inevitably they would end up on someone’s floor. 

“Fuck,” you cursed again lowly as you stepped over to the dryer you had used. 

Sure enough, as you opened and closed it, you found it just as empty as the other machine you had checked. Your stomach dropped at the thought, and it had come to desperate measures as you crouched down near the machines and began looking around them on the floor. 

It was not your proudest moment, and that only became clear as it only lasted around thirty seconds when you heard the door open, paired with a voice you were dreading to have to face anytime soon. 

“What are you doing?” 

Your eyes closed, your breath falling short in your throat. Sighing, you stood from where you were crouched along the floor, surely giving him a show in the shorts you had been wearing since your shower that afternoon. You wouldn’t turn to face him, not if it meant seeing some sort of teasing look appear. It was embarrassing enough. Instead, you pressed yourself closer to the dryer, peering over the back of it, hoping just maybe the red lace would appear behind it. 

“I am looking for something.” 

Anakin chuckled, subtly tracing the curve of your ass through your pajama shorts, his fingers curling around the silky material in his pocket. “What?” 

“It’s nothing.” 

“Well, maybe if you told me, I could help,” he offered, and at that, you froze. 

Turning around slowly, you faced him, heart picking up at the sight of him alone. He looked just as fine as he had the night before, maybe even a little bit more. He wore jeans, ones that were loose around his frame, paired with a hoodie, hiding away the definition of his torso you craved to see after so long. His hair was slightly damp, leaving a ringlet curl along his forehead. It was slightly shorter, too, the back especially, meaning he had gotten a haircut. You had thought you would be sad when he had finally done it, cut the small curls that lay along the back of his neck, but now that he had, you couldn’t help but stare, knees practically giving out at how good he truly looked. 

Sure enough, that smirk was plastered along his face, paired with a glint you knew all too well. 

“Help? You want to help me?” 

He shrugged, “It could maybe make it go faster. You look like you need to be somewhere.” 

It was the most he had ever said to you. The last two days had crossed every line that had been between the two of you over the past four months of knowing one another. This was it. The past two days of his intimidating stares and forceful words.

Placing your hands on your hips, you raised a brow over at him interest, “And why would you think that?” 

He stepped closer, and that alone had your chest rattling and hands practically shaking. He was so tall, so breathtaking, and you had wanted him for so long, so badly, it had consumed you. Just the sight of him as he stood before you, looming over your frame, had your core twitching, aching already, and he hadn’t even touched you. There was the reality that he probably wouldn’t. 

His tongue clicked along the roof of his mouth, his blue orbs falling to trace over your bare legs, freshly tanned, smooth, up to the short baby tee that hugged your frame; no bra. You looked as if you were ready to settle in for the night, but he knew better. 

“You did your makeup,” he said, observingly, “And you look as if you put something in your hair. Maybe, styled it for someone. You got a hot date or something?” 

Your mouth was dry, and you had to look away, guilt appearing that you would be with another man that night, all while you would probably be thinking about him. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” 

“So, that’s a yes,” he chuckled, the deep sound making your legs clench slightly. “Harrison’s teammate from last night? I could see him asking you out just to get in your pants.” 

“Stop,” you fumed, brows furrowing in annoyance, arms crossing over your chest, “Why does it matter?” 

“It doesn’t. So, what are we looking for Y/L/N? What’s going to make you late for this dick appointment?” 

“You know what. Forget it. I can find it myself.” 

“No, no, come on, now. I’m just trying to be helpful,” he smiled, that smirk widening, almost getting off at the sight of your pout and knitted brows. “Seems like you might need it? So, what a top? A bra, maybe, something he’ll want to pull off of you later.” 

“Anakin,” you warned as he took a step closer, his head tilting antagonizingly, taking in how your chest rose and fell nervously. There was still a foot or so between you and yet you couldn’t help but step back until you were up against the dryer, the warmth of it felt through your shorts. 

“Or is it not either of those things? No. Can’t be,” he paused, voice trailing off as his stare flickered down to your lips, “Underwear?” 

Your lips parted in shock, stomach turning at the way it sounded like he was trying to torture you with his presence. 

“So that’s it? Panties, huh? Must be some nice fucking ones if they have you bent over in the laundry room looking for them. What do they look like? I’m sure I can find them.” 

You couldn’t form words, not as he taunted you, even from so far away. Not as his hands were shoved in the pockets of his pants, the most casual look about him. He alluded to sex just from how he looked, and that was hard enough, but him standing in front of you, lips glistening from his saliva, spouting these things at you, they might as well have been the dirtiest things a guy has ever said. They had you wet. You knew they did, and it had you shrinking in humiliation. Humiliation that he could say your name alone, and it would have you so pent up to the point of reaching for that familiar blue vibrator on your bedside table, desperately trying to relieve the tension he built up inside of you. 

Inhaling, you tried to relax. “They’re lace.” 

“Okay. See-through?” he asked, unable to say it with a straight face. 

“Yes.” The word was so quiet coming from your lips, almost like a whisper. 

The tip of his tongue traced over the top set of his teeth, highlighting his cuspids you wanted more than anything to bite into your neck. All while his hand dug between your legs. The thought fell away though at his next words, them enough to have your heart stop altogether. 

“They wouldn’t be red by chance, are they?” 

Your mouth fell open in shock, and for a second, you thought he was going to take hold of your lower lip to close it, anything to touch you, but he didn’t. Why would he? With widened eyes and that knitted expression forming once again across your face, you were silent as you watched his hand appear from his pocket, that all too familiar red color appearing before your eyes. 

“Or something like these, right?” he held them out on his index finger, the expensive material from France staring back at you, “Fuck, I didn’t expect it, Y/L/N. That you could own a pair like this.” 

Your face felt warm, annoyed, and embarrassed by his taunt. Enough that you reached forward to pluck them from his hand, but he pulled his hand back further to keep you from taking hold of them. 

“Anakin,” you warned, hand out stretched. 

“You know, you should pay closer attention when you do your laundry. Some creep in the building could have picked them up instead of me. Who knows what would have happened to them then.” 

It was like he could see the steam coming out of your ears, the heat on your face that he somehow could see even past your makeup. He was frustrating you, and he could do it all day, every day, he decided. 

“Give them to me.” 

“Or what?” he quipped, “Tell me why I should? Just so some guy can take them off of you later. Some guy you don’t even want to fuck you.” 

“Stop this,” you whispered, it almost sounding like a plea as you tried to reach for the underwear again, but as you did, he pulled his hand away. This time, going as far as to stuff them into the back pocket of his jeans. You groaned in annoyance at the sight. “You’re being an asshole.” 

“And you’re a fucking liar,” he taunted, stepping closer again. This time until he was no more than a few inches away. Your body was fully pressed against the dryer then, it hot along the skin on the back of your thighs. “So admit it.” 

“Admit what?” 

He leaned closer, his lips nearly tracing the shell of your ear, all while his hands moved up, fingers brushing across your bare ribs so softly it hadn’t felt real. They slipped away, instead pressing along the dryer behind you that was still running. He had you caged in, his chest warm against yours. 

“That you want this. That you want me.” 

A breathy sigh fell away, your lips practically trembling as all of the hair on your body seemed to stand straight up. 

He continued, “You say I’m the asshole but you’re the one who walks around doing your laundry in nothing but a skimpy shirt. You fucking want me to see you like that, don’t you? Like this? You want to tempt me. But that’s the thing isn’t it? You only act like a whore if it means getting my attention. Isn’t that right?” 

“Anakin…” his name almost sounding like a moan as it slipped, body leaning further into his involuntarily. 

“Say it, Y/N. Fucking say it, and I’m yours.” 

You sighed, the most hopeless sound because he had you. He always did. How was it happening? You weren’t sure, but it was all that mattered. “Fine, I want you.” 

He smiled a grin that was so full of himself as he reached forward, his hand gripping your jaw so firmly in his hand. It happened so quick, then, the feeling of him pulling you forward. It was almost like you could have gotten whiplash as his lips consumed you, enveloping you in what could only be described as pure sin. Without a moment to even feel them on yours, his tongue was parting your lips, slipping in without you giving much of a fight. A moan was ripped free from your throat as he branded you over and over, his taste coated along your tongue, faintly tasting of mint gum and cigarettes. 

Somehow it wasn’t anything you thought it would be like. It was better, intangible, unable to fully grasp until it was happening, leaving you to spin, to drip with need, and in a way, begging for penance. His body collided with yours, his other hand roughly grabbing your hip, slamming you further into the dryer, the vibration of it catching your attention as he did so. As his knee parted your legs, you twitched, the feeling of his clothed knee too much as he pressed it up against your core. 

Gasping, your hands shot forward, pushing at his chest. It was enough for his lips to part from yours, with a string of his saliva pooling around the corners of your lips. “Wait, not here.” 

You looked around the empty laundry room, suddenly awfully aware of the possibility for anyone to walk in. Especially those who had their laundry going in the machines. 

He chuckled, the sound making your legs clench again, but this time around, his knee stood in the way. He smirked at the sight, his voice lowering, “Yes, here.” 

You couldn’t deny how it had made you feel, the dominance doing something to you. So much so that you relaxed under his hooded eyes, giving in once again. It was enough of an answer for him as he immediately went to your cotton shorts, yanking them down from your hips. The material loosened and pooled around your feet, leaving you in nothing but the black pair of soft panties you had slipped on after your shower. 

“Not red,” he chuckled, hands ghosting along your ribs, thumbs tempting to brush along your nipples through the material of your shirt, “But fuck are they still pretty.” 

His knee pressed up further against the material, the thin material that was soaked to the point that he was risking having a stain left when he pulled it away. You whimpered at the feeling, desperate for any relief you hadn’t been able to get since you laid eyes on him for the first time. You couldn’t help but sink down on him, the feeling sending a shock through your core and another sound to fall from your blissfully kissed lips. 

He took in the sight, not caring who saw. Not if it meant he had his claim on you, that everyone knew. That they all were aware of how fucking obsessed you were, with him, his cock, that you would be willing to get caught. With lidded eyes just as desperate for you as you were for him, he let his fingers trace down your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he found the waistband of your underwear. Your chest tightened again in anticipation, as his fingers slid down further until they were pressed along the front of it, able to feel the wetness that had soaked all the way through. 

His ego was huge at that point, almost feeling accomplished by his handy work. His thumb found the bundle of nerves with ease as if this hadn’t been his first time with you, but rather had memorized your body, knew just how exactly to get you to come undone. Pressing down, he bit down on his bottom lip, watching as your head lulled back, a desperate sound-emitting. 

He couldn’t take it then, and neither could you. When he pulled away, you gasped in protest, ready to glare at him, but that inclination disappeared as he reached for the button of his jeans. You were practically drooling as it popped, followed by the sound of the zipper being yanked down. Your chest was rising and falling, so much anticipation forming along your skin in the form of sweat, the spot between your legs throbbing to the point of it almost being painful. 

You were ready to beg. If he wasted any more time, you would. You didn’t care how desperate and defiling it felt then because if it were any other man, you wouldn’t, but for him, you would. You would over and over if it meant it would lead to this. Your breath hitched as he reached for the waistline of his boxers, sliding them down just enough to release his dick from the confines of the material. 

Fuck, even his dick was perfect. 

The sight of it had you nearly collapsing, completely acting like an idiot just at the sight. Who knew all it took was one cock to have you completely silent, lost for words. It had never happened, never thought it could, until him. It was the way it erected out, almost touching the material of his hoodie, red, already slick with precum. A world where he wanted you back seemed so implausible, and yet the sight of that alone could have had you cumming on the spot. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, wrapping one of his hands around the base of it, he hissed slightly at the contact. 

“Anakin, fuck just, please,” you whimpered further, and you hated how it sounded across your tongue, but that thought disappeared quickly as he moved closer. 

With one hand pushing your underwear to the side, the other aided his dick in sliding in between your folds. It was only the tip, and yet at the feeling, you were a mess. A mess of chewing on your lower lip, just desperately wishing for this feeling to never end. If you could have this for the rest of your life every day, you would. The feeling of him over and over again would be a mantra you would strive for if it always felt like this. 

Your walls were tight around him, and both being so impatient, he thrust forward, bottoming out quickly. A small noise fell from your lips at the feeling of his tip colliding deeply inside, your walls tightening, sucking him in perfectly. 

“Ah, fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his voice enough to make you clench again, stomach fluttering as his forehead softly met yours. 

There was a second, a brief moment where neither of you moved. It was only heavy breathing accompanied by the sounds of the dryers, and you knew it was equally the nastiest but most perfect moment of your life. Then with his lips collapsing on yours once again, he began to move. Pulling out, he trusted back in, rocking his hips against yours. He swore under his breath, dick twitching though he had barely even started. With his lips claiming yours over and over, his hand trailed up along the side of your leg, taking hold of your knee to hike it up along his waist. At the new feeling, the stretch, paired with his dick still prodding, you moaned, the sound loud, louder than you anticipated it to be. 

He laughed, the sound vibrating against your chest. It only got worse as his other hand slipped down in between your bodies locating your clit with ease through your underwear. Pulling out all the way, he shoved himself all the way back in, eliciting sounds you didn’t know you could even derive. Your body arched into his, legs already like jelly as his thumb circled the bundle of nerves slowly, almost too slowly. The feeling of the soft fabric of the underwear only added more friction and you were spiraling at how quickly your pussy tightened around his length. 

He grunted, a string of curse words slipping as he harshly pinned your body back against the dryer, the vibration of the machine only heightening it all further. You wouldn’t last long, you knew that, practically able to hear your heart in your ears, stomach clenching with that familiar knot. Your hands reached out to grip his shoulders, the material of his hoodie curling under your fingers as you held onto him so tightly as if you were trying to mold the two of your bodies into one. 

Moving so quickly at that point, he was reaching that very spot inside you couldn’t do yourself, and it had your head spinning, chest rising and falling, as you desperately craved the high more than even drugs or alcohol. 

“Say my name, baby,” he pleaded then, sounding so whiny as his blue eyes met yours. “Come on. Say it. Say it like you do when you’re laying in bed, hand going to fucking work in between your legs.” 

Sweat gathered along his brow, while the tops of his cheeks were staining red. The sound of the pet name had you almost crying, leg tightening around his waist, as every part of your body seemed lit on fire. 

“Anakin,” you moaned softly. 

“No,” he demanded glaring down at you, “Not like that.” 

He began to speed up his assault on your clit, and you could barely stand at that point, body almost leaning completely back on the dryer. That was enough to get what he wanted as his name began to spill from your mouth louder than it ever had before. 

He swore again, his grunts filling your ears as his palm tightened around your hip. He was moving so quickly, sliding in and out, you could feel your wetness dripping down your inner thighs, the sounds so loud in your ears. His thumb never faltered or stopped as he pulled all the way out and then back in, wanting you to take him in inch by inch. Before you had even realized it, your walls were tightening around him, your stomach clenched, eyes squeezed shut like you were chasing stars. 

That feeling snapped, a lull, and you were a moaning mess as you held onto him, knowing you couldn’t stand on your own. Fingers digging deeply into his shoulders, body relaxing slightly while the orgasm washed over you, he didn’t dare stop. Anakin only pulled out to slam back into you, the flutter of your walls pulling him in over and over again. Chasing his high so desperately, it didn’t take long, until he was stilling completely, cumming inside of you. 

You hadn’t let anyone else do that, but for him, it was a privilege. It was almost like your pussy was promised for him and him alone. His forehead fell down against yours, body relaxing into yours for a moment, only a few seconds, not long enough as your walls pulsed around him, now soft inside of you. He pulled out with ease, the loss of him and the cool air startling you to clamp your legs shut. 

He stuffed himself back into his pants and looked down at you almost proudly, your fucked out gaze enough to have him wanting to take you back to his apartment and keep it going all night long, but you had places to be instead. Smirking, his eyes fell down to your lower half, and he couldn’t resist then. Fingers finding the sides of your underwear, they hooked around them before pulling them down your frame and to your ankles. Though confused, you followed, stepping out of them. 

At the loss of them, you could feel the mixed wetness pooling out of you and down the inside of your legs, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Proud of his handiwork, Anakin reached behind him in his back pocket and took out the red lacy underwear. He held them out in his hands, stretching them as he demanded softly, “Step in.” 

Listening, you stepped into the underwear, the clean red lacy underwear that had started all of this. Then tantalizing as if he wanted to torture you further, he pulled them up your legs slowly, agonizingly slow, and then up and over your butt until they sat comfortably along your hips, surely soaking in what the two of you had done.

Leaning forward, he left a lingering peck on your hip bone, and you sighed at the feeling. He slid your shorts back on next before standing and as he did, you could still feel the flush in your cheeks, reality catching up to you. 

Having exchanged the red underwear for the black ones you wore, he shoved the dirty ones into his back pocket. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think straight, as your heart seemed to be beating out of your chest. With that smirk, that glint on his goddamn face, he reached forward, thumb pulling your bottom lip free before letting it snap back into place. 

“I expect those panties of yours to remain where they are your whole date, got it? And tell Cole ‘hi’ for me, will you?” 

There was one thing for sure, Anakin Skywalker despised you, or not anymore, at least because, after all, he got the one thing he had been dying of thirst for. He would make sure you never ignored him again, even if it was when you were doing your damn laundry. 

[queenie-official]

Part One Of Summer Love: ‘Camp Wookiee’

series masterlist celebration event camp logo

pairing: Modern!Anakin Skywalker x fem!reader

word count: 11.4k Next part

in hindsight, you probably should have been listening to what the camp director, Bail; was saying. in your defense no one else was, which you would later find out was because they've all heard the same speech, rules, and warnings a dozen times already.

you were busy scanning over all the faces on the screen- well the ones who had their cameras on anyway. each person you'd seen so far was shockingly attractive, a few people in particular caught your eye. A girl, Padme Amidala. A boy, Ben Kenobi. and lastly the executive director who was simply watching Bail speak to make sure it was done correctly, Qui-Gon Jinn.

the only thing that snapped you out of your admiration was the sound of your phone pinging, thankfully you were muted. glancing at your phone you saw the contact belonging to your best friend Honey and made the instant decision that she was far more important than what was happening on the Zoom call.

so you not so secretly reached for the mouse and clicked the camera button off, relaxing when you knew no one could see you anymore.

'how's the call going?' her first message read, followed by 'anyone cute on the staff 👀' making you snort.

you lean back in your chair while you type back 'i think it may be a requirement to be at least an 8/10 just to get hired’ you watch as three dots appear on the corner of the phone screen.

'well it's a good thing you're absolutely stunning 😚' you read when her message finally sent and you can't help but smile big. you loved this girl, she always knew what to say to make your day brighter even on an already sunny day.

you're about to text back when the Camp Director's words finally get your attention "And i think that's everything you'll need to know! now if you have any questions feel free to message me or Qui-gon Jinn privately. though i would like to remind you all, most of the basic information you need can be found directly on the Camps Website." shit you really should have been paying attention, they were supposed to went over the different roles that would be at the camp more in-depth during this call.

like hell you'd reach out to either of them privately and admit you weren't listening though, you bite your lower lip and slink back into your chair. "We look forward to welcoming you all to Camp Wookiee in person, see you in two weeks" Qui-Gon says right before ending the Zoom call leaving you staring at your computer screen blankly. fuck.

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in the end it was Honey who had helped you calm down from the freak out you had after the Zoom call, and two weeks went by faster than you thought it would.

you still had a day before you had to be at the camp but because of how far you lived you planned on leaving within the next couple of hours.

"i think you need to calm down" Honey says from where she's sat on your bed, she'd been watching you run around her and haphazardly chuck things into your suitcase that you knew you'd need based on the email that was sent out last week on what would be supplied for you at the camp.

"i'm calm" you rush out while running a hand through your hair, pushing down the slight panic you felt in your chest. man you really should have paid attention on that call.

"you're going to be fiiiine, i doubt they'll kick you out of the camp for something as small as not paying attention during a Zoom meeting- that wasn't even mandatory by the way" to her credit she makes some good points, however the zoom meeting was highly encouraged for newcomers and you fall in that category.

“it's not like they're going to quiz you y/n" you let out a groan at her words whilst shoving the last of the items you needed in your suitcase and zipping it up.

"i know, i know- i just don't want to seem irresponsible" you huff while plopping down on the bed next to her. "or embarrass myself because i probably missed a massive amount of information" definitely missed a massive amount of information more like- the call was an hour long…

"whatever they told you in the call they'll definitely go over again at the Camp, we've been over this." Honey reaches over and lightly pinches your arm making you laugh as you pull away. "and before you say 'we don't know that for sure' we do know that for sure because it's supposed to be a staff of forty and only fifteen of you were actually on the call" she raises a pointed brow and you let out a sigh knowing she's right.

"okay, i'll try my best to not panic the whole ride to the camp" you say with a half smile, standing up and stretching. "i should probably leave now if i wanna get there on time tomorrow" you mumble glancing at the time on your phone, 8:30 pm.

"are you sure you don't want me to drive you? i just don't think it's wise to be driving all night and then be exhausted for the actual first day there" she'd already offered at least ten times and you'd already declined what felt like a dozen more.

"i'm sure, worst case i'll be a little sleepy but it's not like i'll be taking care of the campers the first day. staff has to show up a week before to get more comfortable in their roles" you say confidently, it was the one piece of info you did learn from the Zoom call before you started drooling over how attractive each member of the staff was.

"mhm, well i'll carry your pillow for you" she said while making a kissy face at you jokingly.

"awww thanks, how generous of you to leave the heavy stuff for me to carry" you say with a roll of your eyes as you begin to lug your suitcase down the stairs.

"really? no thank you kiss" Honey feigns hurt before snatching your pillow off your bed and quickly catching up to you.

"all of my kisses are reserved for my future love" you joke, and Honey purposely bumps into you with her hip before you can get to the door making you sway ever so slightly.

"lame, no boy deserves your love- they all suck" fair point you had to admit, honestly you only signed up to work at the camp for the social interaction. the most you plan is to have a hallway crush on one of the staff members just to save you from boredom and then forget about said crush as soon as you return home in the fall.

you pop the trunk of your car while Honey locks up your shared house. she was going back home for the summer to visit family, not wanting to be left completely alone for months on end and become a statistic. her words, not yours.

"i guess this is goodbye" she says with a finality to it, putting on her best sad voice. you laugh as she throws the pillow she was holding in the trunk and closes it.

"you make it sound like i’m dying or leaving forever" the drama from this girl, it’s not like you’re much better though. she fake sniffles and places a hand on her forehead putting on her best damsel in distress performance.

"my love is going off to war and she jokes as if she isn't leaving me for two months" there’s a smile peaking through as she speaks and you can't help but laugh, throwing your arms around her in a hug.

"i love you so much, i don't know how i’m going to survive without you" you say half joking as you go along with her antics. truth be told, you really don't know how you're going to survive without her. you both spend just about every second of every day in each other's company and even when you aren't you message so much you might as well be hanging out in person anyway.

you checked the Camp's Website before you applied and know that they do have wifi for staff and the kids mostly in case of emergencies, but just because there is wifi doesn't mean it's good wifi. it's the middle of the woods after all, you'll be lucky if photos even go through.

you both pull apart with matching toothy grins on your faces. "text me when you get to the camp?" Honey asks and you nod knowing she just wants to make sure you get there safe.

"of course, text me when you get to your parent's house?" you watch her smile grow wider while opening the car door.

"always" she responds while you climb in and buckle. "see you in two months" she shouts once the door is closed, you roll the window down and she pokes her head and arms through so you can both share one last slightly awkward hug.

"see you in two months, don't forget me while i'm gone" you say with an exaggerated pout as she pulls out of the window, standing a few steps back from the car so you can pull out of the parking lot properly.

"how could i forget a face like that" you hear her say as you roll the window back up, blasting the air conditioner.

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.*═╝

the actual drive to Camp Wookiee wasn't too bad, you know excluding the fact you were up all night. but every negative has a positive, the positive of this being you managed to make it to the camp an hour before you needed to be.

turning onto the gravel road sent a chill up your back, a mix of excitement and nerves. the yawn that exited your mouth showing the exact opposite of that though and the closer you get to the end of the drive the more tired you realize you are. you make a mental note to take a nap once you've parked.

pushing down another yawn as you pull into the staff parking area you immediately do a double take and decide against a nap not even a minute later. there were five cars already parked side by side, and a group of people standing in front of one just chatting.

you only recognized one of them because he was on the Zoom call, Ben Kenobi at least that's who you think it was. It'd been two weeks so maybe you were mixing up names. either way, you avoid making accidental eye contact with any of them making sure to focus entirely on parking in a straight line.

now to sit in the car and pretend like you hadn't been seen or to get out and greet the four men? you ask yourself with your hand hovering over the keys, debating whether to turn off the engine.

you look at your side mirror taking in the three men you didn't recognize. all tall- one of them was bald, another with a blonde buzzcut and lastly a boy with curly sandy blonde hair, you couldn't see his face though.

he was turned completely towards the man who you were pretty sure was Ben. after weighing your options you decided staying inside the car seemed like the best option compared to meeting four men at once.

you'd rather run into four bears, after all you didn't know what kind of people they were and you certainly didn't want to find out by yourself. maybe when more staff got here you'd be braver, in the meantime you shift your hand from hovering over the keys to the volume knob. turning up the music ever so slightly to drown out any chatter you may hear and leaning back in the seat, unbuckling yourself just to be a little more comfortable.

you look out the windshield taking in the beauty of the forest, the green from the trees reflecting slightly onto your car thanks to the sun. it was serene but short-lived as you jump from someone knocking on your window.

"sorry didn't mean to startle you" Ben said carefully as you rolled down the window. "we saw you pull in and realized you must be the new girl" he said while pointing his thumb over his shoulder, clearly referring to the three men he was originally standing with.

"new girl… like singular?" you blink confused, wouldn't there be other new girls- oh no what if you were the only new girl and the rest of the new staff were all guys?? you felt a bubble of panic begin to brew in your stomach.

"well new worker in general, everyone else working this year are returning Staff from last year." well that's almost worse, at least if it was only guys you'd still have a chance to befriend people. the staff all already knowing each other meant they'd already formed their clicks leaving you to fight for a way in. so much for joining the camp for social interactions, looks like the most educated conversation you'll be having is with some 10-year-old about whatever cartoon they're into.

you press your lips into a thin line before forcing a small polite smile. "my name is y/n" you extend your hand to him and he shakes it with a somewhat firm grip.

"Ben Kenobi, don't suppose you want to come with us onto the actual campgrounds?" you knit your brows together in confusion, turning to the clock thinking your car might have fucked up again and given you the wrong time. Ben seems to read your mind though, letting out a soft laugh before speaking up. "you're not late if that's what you're wondering. Windu is one of the camp directors, he's been setting up since 7:00 o’clock this morning along with Jinn. as long as they're here we're allowed on campgrounds even before the official start time."

okay so maybe Honey’s gotten into your head with all of her true crime stories. you relax at his explanation, reaching over and turning off your engine. "yea i'd appreciate that because i have no clue where i’m supposed to go in all honesty." he nods, taking a step back so you can climb out of the car. it felt nice being able to finally stretch out your legs after the long drive.

"i'll introduce you to everyone. Come on, oh and you can leave your stuff in the car for now. you won't know which cabin to put it in until later anyway." you give a small hum of acknowledgment and lock the car behind you before following after him.

as soon as you came to a stop in front of everyone all eyes were on you, maybe it was the height differences but you honestly felt like a little kid. "this is Windu, one of the camp directors" Ben introduces and when he politely offers you his hand with a somewhat stern look you shake it.

"don't let him scare you, he's nicer than he looks. his face is just stuck like that" you turn your head to whoever made the jab; the boy with sandy blond hair. his eyes are a beautiful shade of blue and he wore a smug smile on his face- he was probably the prettiest boy you'd ever seen.

you want to laugh but aren't sure if it'd be appropriate considering the man he was making fun of was your boss, but when Windu just rolls his eyes with a sigh you get the idea that this is a normal occurrence around here.

"I'm Anakin" he introduces himself and sticks out his hand for you to shake, you shyly take it and his hand engulf yours. there was a confidence to him you noticed or maybe an arrogance but who were you to judge someone you just met?

"ignore him y/n, he's an idiot who'd probably turn up late if he hadn't carpooled with me" Ben interjects pulling your attention away from Anakin, your hands slipping from each other in the process.

"hey i'm never late" He denies but judging from the smile on his face and the lack of actual sincerity in his voice you could tell he didn't even believe himself.

"yes you are and the only times you're not is when i drive you" Ben says with a roll of his eyes and Anakin throws his hands up in defense. you can't help but smile, holding back a laugh as you watch the two interact. it was clear just how close the two were from how they bantered but the fact they carpooled together confirmed it for you.

"I'm Rex" the last man spoke up, he had a small smile on his face, one that seemed endearing like he too enjoyed watching Anakin and Ben's dynamic.

"like a T-Rex?" you ask jokingly, it felt like the natural thing to do. if they all could tease each other who's to say you can't either; when Anakin let out a snort followed by a few snickers which then morphed into genuine laughter when he saw Rex's disgruntled face you felt like you'd made the right choice.

Rex rolled his eyes but smiled after shoving Anakin away. "looks like you're gonna fit right in here y/n" he said while crossing his arms, and you couldn't help but beam.

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.*═╝

so much for fear of having to fight a way in, you'd spent the last hour just getting to know Ben, Anakin and Rex. Windu had to go back to actually helping prep with Jinn and Bail.

throughout the hour more people had shown up and made their introductions to you, and as it turns out everyone got along with each other. well in their own way, there was definitely some not-so-secret animosity between some people but they didn't let it interfere with the general welcoming feel of the whole camp.

eventually, the introductions stopped and the only reason you got anyone's name was because Ben whispered them over to you.

"good morning everyone!" the chatter throughout the room quickly died down as Qui-Gon Jinn's voice echoed throughout the Log Hall. "i'm going to make this brief since all of you have heard this speech before" you felt your stomach drop, right everyone working this year was returning staff besides you.

so much for Honey's 'remain calm because they'll go over it again for the people who didn't show up on the call' advice. despite the fear you couldn't wait to text Honey and say 'i told you my fears were valid' the second you got to the room you'd be staying in.

"Today is all about settling in, so don't get too worried that we're putting you to work immediately." he said with a smile and teasing tone. if only it had the calming effect he'd intended it to have.

"Mace Windu has posted all of the info about where you will be staying, who you'll be bunking with, and which cabins you'll be responsible for on the wall over there" He motions to where Windu is standing on the opposite end of the lodge and Windu waves back.

it was pretty clear that most of this speech was meant for you and you alone given the fact that everyone else was on their phones or having hushed conversations. it made your cheeks flush slightly but you were internally grateful.

"additional camp roles are next to your names on the roster as well, and remember campers will be arriving Monday morning next week. in the meantime relax, enjoy yourselves, get used to the environment and we will see you for dinner at 5:00" he finishes with a clap of his hands, and the room erupts into loud chatter again.

"i wonder who y/n will be partnered with, she's the outlier" Rex questioned out loud, you angle yourself in his direction and he begins to clarify himself. "we've had the same partners for the last two years." you quirk a brow wondering how that's going to work, with you here there was an odd number of counselors.

"they're putting us counselors in groups of three this year" Ben states, he seems to always manages to answer your unasked questions. "i asked Jinn a few weeks ago when i heard they were hiring a new staff member."

Anakin rolls his eyes from his seat beside you, why he chose to sit there instead of spacing out more like Rex and Ben did you weren't sure; but the small heat radiating from his thigh onto yours and the tickle of his skin every time his arm brushed against you kept you from wanting to voice the question out loud.

"of course you asked, honestly i don't get why you don't just apply for a position as Camp director yet" Anakin huffed and you bit back a smile.

"if i did that you'd be out of a ride, Camp directors arrive even earlier than counselors." he retorts.

"aww you really care about me" Anakin joked, putting a hand over his heart and laying it on thick. you couldn't help the giggle that bubbled out of you and could only wonder if this is how people felt when watching you and Honey interact with one another.

Anakin turned towards you looking happy just to have made you laugh. you could get used to his attention on you that's for sure, looks like you found that hallway crush for the summer.

"i think you're partnered up with Padme" Ben says effectively interrupting whatever moment you and Anakin were having. you remember that name, she was the girl you had admired on the Zoom call- natural beauty that's for sure.

you had a feeling you two would get along, what you didn't like however was the feeling you got when you noticed Anakin light up more than you thought humanly possible just at the mere mention of her name. shit.

"oh here he goes" Ben says as Anakin begins to rant about just how gorgeous and amazing Padme is, Anakin just continues like he didn't hear him say anything at all. "he's had a crush on her since his first year working at the camp" Ben says directly towards you, the information not news to Rex.

this just served as another reminder that you were the only new person working at the camp this year, what a shame too. you could get over it though, you'd only known Anakin for what? a little over an hour maybe. at the very least you two had a good connection so friends it was.

you hadn't noticed but you started to resign yourself from the conversation as Anakin went on and on about Padme making Ben and Rex tease him even more. voices blurred together and you found yourself completely tuning out the world around you- maybe this was going to be a little harder than you thought.

a tap on your shoulder tethered you back to reality, you turned completely to see who was trying to get your attention.

had she somehow gotten even prettier in person? Padme stood behind you with her long curly brunette hair pulled back into a ponytail to keep it out of her face and off her neck. she was wearing her camp Issued T-shirt already, it was cream-colored with the Camp Wookiee logo right in the middle.

"hey! I'm Padme" she says with a smile extending her hand. her smile was perfect and made you feel guilty somehow, how could you feel negative about someone who seemed as sweet as they were beautiful? you shake her hand whilst mirroring the same smile on her face.

"i'm y/n, it's nice to meet you" all you could think was that her and Anakin certainly would make the most stunning couple. if he had a crush on her since his first year did she just not realize or not care.

the latter made your heart flutter with hope which you quickly shoved down with disgust at just how quickly you managed to crush on him. Honey would be so disappointed in you or eat up every second of this, probably both knowing her.

"sorry if this is kind of random but i just checked the roster and saw that we were partnered up. well you, me and Jasmine but she's already headed to the cabin we'll be staying at and responsible for." she spoke with a sugar-sweet tone, not the kind that made you feel sick to the stomach; when she spoke it was genuine kindness not a single ounce of malice to be found. "i was going to head there now but figured you might want to walk with me since i'd be easier than finding it yourself. trust me the signposts can get confusing quickly."

"that would be amazing, thank you so much" you say while standing up. you hadn't noticed the silence coming from the three boys until Rex and Ben finally spoke up to say their goodbyes to you.

Anakin seemed a bit awestruck by Padme's presence alone, it was kind of funny to see. you give him a knowing look while simultaneously pushing down that nasty taste that began to cling to the back of your throat. he smiled thankfully not noticing any changes in your behavior and gave you a soft goodbye of his own.

"come on, i'll help you carry your stuff from your car." Padme said and began leading the way out of the hall.

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a groan of relief leaves your body as you finally plop down on the bed in the cabin. your spine burns with pain before melting into comfort as you relax all the muscles in your body.

the part of the cabin you were staying in wasn't super spacious but it was cozy, there were two bunk beds and to your surprise, Padme and Jasmine chose separate bunks. maybe they weren't close but you still figure they'd rather bunk together than with a stranger or maybe they both just wanted the top bunk and that's the actual reason they didn't choose the same one, you didn't bother asking.

you went with the bottom bunk of Padme's, you may not know either of the girls but at least she'd gone out of her way to help you find the cabin and explain how everything was going to work.

according to Padme, there are a bunch of different cabins all with different names. the one you'd be staying at was called Naboo, Anakin and Ben were at the Coruscant cabin, Rex was staying at the Alderaan cabin.

each cabin has the same layout; there's the staff cabin room where the counselors stay which is directly connected to the room where the campers will be staying because it's easier to supervise them that way. then there's a bathroom with multiple stalls and a shower room for everyone in the cabin to use. simple really but not like you needed anything fancy.

the staff cabin room itself has two dressers to be shared amongst whoever's staying there, you and Padme were sharing one and Jasmine had the other dresser too herself. you didn't mind, both you and Padme were pretty conscious about the space you took up so you both managed to fit everything you brought into one out of the two long drawers.

you turn your head to look over at Jasmine, she was beautiful. she had fine long black hair and hazel eyes that seemed to lean more green in the shitty cabin light. your joke with Honey about being at least an 8/10 to be hired was not really feeling like a joke anymore. speaking of Honey, you really should text her.

just as you're about to pull out your phone Padme walks back into the room; she'd left to use the bathroom after helping you settle in. you smile at her when you both make eye contact and she's quick to plop down on the edge of the bed next to you.

Maybe you were imagining it but there felt like a small tension in the air, not between you and Padme but between her and Jasmine. perhaps it was the way Jasmine furrowed her brows the second Padme entered the room or the way she turned to face the wall and focus extra hard on her phone but something was definitely off- lots of puzzle pieces you itched to put together.

"so y/n" she started and you sat up to make more room on the bed before she continued. she happily took up the silent offer, moving to sit properly in the middle so you guys could face each other criss-cross applesauce. "what brings you to Camp Wookiee?" ah so this is going to go the 21 questions route, sorry Honey looks like you're not getting updates anytime soon.

"i just thought it would be fun and a good way to meet new people" plus the pay at this camp in particular was extremely good but you weren't going to say that out loud.

"well good news the people here are great" you swear she mumbled 'some more than others' at the end of that.

"anybody you'd recommend i avoid?" you ask unable to brush it off.

"i-" you watch as her eyes briefly flutter over to Jasmine before she clears her throat and locks eyes with you again. "i'm not sure that's my place to say, but i can say you've done a pretty good job so far of choosing who to hang out with." that was genuine and so was that tension you sensed earlier.

"Anakin, Ben and Rex you mean?" she nods while leaning back onto her hands a bit, letting whatever negative thoughts she held towards the third person in the room roll off her shoulders.

you and Padme clicked pretty quickly after that, and throughout your talk you learned what you'd be in charge of once the campers arrived. you'd be partnered with Anakin and Rex at the arts and crafts center which you were a little bit more excited for than you'd care to admit. she was in charge of the zip line course this year along with Ben, the three camp directors deemed them both the most responsible which seemed to check out.

time seemed to fly talking with her, she had an easygoing air about her that made conversation flow naturally- what on earth could Jasmine have done to make someone like that not like her? weird.

you decided that you'd make it your mission to find out after you discovered she shared the same favorite dessert with you, followed by your favorite book. after all someone with as good a taste as that has to have a valid reason not to like another person.

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.*═╝

you both kept chatting while walking side by side to the Log Hall for dinner with Jasmine not far behind. when you enter the Hall you're flagged down by the boys almost immediately.

"you can go sit with them" Padme said after realizing where you were looking.

"you don't wanna sit with them?" you ask curiously as you both move into the food line.

"i don't mind it.." she trails off while grabbing an apple to put on her tray.

"but you'd rather not." you finish her sentence for her. "i thought you said they were good people?" she hands you a pudding cup with a reassuring smile when she reads the confusion and worry on your face.

"they are, i'd just prefer to spend my time with my friends" she says while pointing with her chin to a group of girls on the opposite side of the hall. "you're welcome to join me, i just figured you'd want to be with them." she shrugs her shoulders, the choice was up to you.

you go through the rest of the line stuck in an internal debate as your tray fills up. it's not that you didn't want to sit with the boys, just you really wanted to sit with Padme and maybe you'd get along well with her friends; but then again the boys clearly wanted you to sit with them.

already having to pick sides and you're not even a full day in yet, you had to fight off the urge to audibly sigh.

"any chance your friends would move tables?" the question tumbled out of your mouth before you could think twice. was it rude to ask that? too late now.

"maybe tomorrow" she offered, and you couldn't help but frown. it was a perfectly reasonable answer just not the one you were hoping for.

"no it's okay actually, i'll just sit with you guys." this time she frowned.

"y/n i promise i won't be offended if you wanna go sit with them instead of me" she said with a laugh half teasing half sincere.

"i knoooww, but i wanna sit with all of you guys" you grumble, ever the indecisive person and always the people pleaser.

"okay then how about the boys come sit with us" you raise a brow as she turns to them, waves and then points to her table. they get the idea and stand up with their trays, you feel a little guilty for having them move but they didn't seem to mind at all.

there's a bit of an awkwardness at first as both groups learn to navigate around each other. you notice pretty quickly how almost polar opposite the boys are from Padme's friends. her friends were as calm and easygoing as her, the boys were full of energy and teasing- well Ben and Rex seemed to be able to reign it in a lot more than Anakin. which to be fair they already had calmer vibes than him anyway.

"she's great right?" Anakin asked you quietly with a nudge of his elbow. he chose to sit next to you again, there was plenty of space for him on the bench to scooch down but it didn't seem like he was aware of that. more likely he was and simply put just didn't care. you raise a brow, "Padme" he added quickly before you could ask.

there's that taste again. you push it down, taking a scoop out of your pudding cup as you nod "yea she is, we get along well too" you answer honestly making sure to sound more enthusiastic than you felt.

the blinding smile he gives you at the confession makes you wish you'd chosen to just sit with the girls alone. pitiful. "what're you two whispering about?" Padme asks with a smile and a look in her eyes that you couldn't decipher.

"just about how great it's gonna be working in the crafts center together, Rex is going to hate us by the end of camp" Anakin answers for the both of you, the lie rolling off his tongue naturally.

"going to? who's to say i don't already" Rex says with a cross of his arms and Anakin rolls his eyes.

"hey what'd i do?" you frown and Rex smiles.

"the first thing you did was compare me to a T-Rex" he defends his prior statement.

"i did no such thing!" you say through a laugh.

he points at you accusingly before saying "like a T-Rex?" in a high-pitched tone mocking you, you can't even take offense because he sounds so unserious.

"i don't sound like that Rex" you snicker only for Anakin to cut in.

"you're right, you sound more like this" he says while pinching his nose to sound nasally and you punch him in the arm. "ow, she hit me!" he says in artificial pain acting like you truly wounded him as he rubs the spot you punched.

"i definitely don't sound like that" you huff and Padme backs you up.

"hmm i'm probably mixing it up with Rex's voice then" he says smugly and Rex kicks him from under the table, judging from the wince he lets out it must have truly hurt unlike your punch.

"no kicking" Ben chastises Rex and Anakin decides no one is safe as he mocks him in a nasally voice too. "oh real mature Anakin" Ben rolls his eyes but there's no real fire behind it as you all poke fun at each other for the rest of dinner.

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"do you have a crush on Anakin?" you whip your head towards Padme blinking rapidly confused and trying to process if you heard her correctly. she didn't repeat herself nor back down.

bold of her to ask that when the man she's talking about is not even five feet away; you had all split up heading in opposite directions towards your respective cabins. "no i don't have a crush on him, why?"

she purses her lips in thought "it seems like he likes you and vice versa" you laugh loud and abrupt, this time she's the one staring at you confused.

"wait you're serious?" you stop in your tracks but she continues walking. well that crushes your hopes of her knowing about his crush and just not reciprocating.

"you'd make a cute couple" she says with a shrug of her shoulders, the absolute irony.

"i just met him today" you say; speeding to catch up with her again. she just smiles and gives you that look she gave you in the log hall again. "i'm serious Padme!" you've grown more defensive than you needed to be.

"so am i" Unbelievable. This wasn't just ironic, it was cruel. you frown and resist the urge to roll your eyes at your own rotten luck.

"i'm too tired for this" half-truth. you were tired, you'd been up all night driving and managed to power through the day without truly resting. however you definitely were not going to be able to get to sleep once you did settle down, instead you'd be replaying every interaction from today in your head.

you did just that after changing into your pajamas and brushing your teeth; groaning softly into your pillow once you finally crashed onto your bed. Padme and Jasmine had their headphones on so you were thankfully in the clear.

the feeling of your phone vibrating next to your head was what pulled you from the self-inflicted torture of your spiraling mind. it took you a few minutes to motivate yourself to even lift your head, which felt ten times heavier than usual. probably due to exhaustion.

'don't tell me you died 😱' you can't help the grin that grows on your lips as you read Honey's message, and then you notice the notification wall of 15 other messages from her. oops. you turn onto your back and open your phone to respond.

'die and leave you alone in life? i would never' you type out quickly before reading through her other messages. 'just landed' followed by 'my parents decided to throw me a surprise party sos' and then a string of updates while the party happened.

most people would think Honey is a pretty social person based on how she is when she's with you, most people would be wrong. Honey has the social battery of a grape. she also requires at least a full day by herself in her room with hot chocolate and a book to recharge properly.

'my love has returned from war 🥹' you giggle not realizing how much you missed her until now and that's when you begin to feel homesick. Honey was your home as corny as that sounded. sisters in another life Platonic soulmates in this one; at least that's what you both always said.

'i've got so much to tell you abouutt' where to even start- i'd be easier to just send a voice message but you didn't feel comfortable enough to venture anywhere on your own yet and find somewhere to update her.

'i'm sat' from the beginning it is then.

you spent the next fifteen minutes just debriefing with her and when you finished she found the Instagram accounts of every person you mentioned.

'oh wow he is cute, no wonder you like him' she says after sending a post from Anakin's account. Ben was in the photo and it looked like it was Anakin's 19th birthday judging by the candles on the cake he was holding.

'i don't like him…' you defend but then remember who you're talking to and add 'yet- besides he likes someone else!!'

'someone who doesn't like him back' she sends back just as quickly and you stick your tongue out at her through the screen even though she can't see it.

'she never specified that, and either way i can't change the fact he likes her' you argue and Honey thankfully lets up.

''would it be weird if i followed Ben's account?' beautiful subject change Honey, you couldn't have done it better yourself.

'Ben really 😏?' you smile as you hit send liking being on the opposite end of the teasing.

'you're right too weird 😔' she replies and you two go back and forth for a while before finally calling it a night.

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the sunlight peeking through from the lack of blinds is what woke you up, but rather than opening up your eyes to start the day you just groaned and turned towards the wall; burrowing your face into your pillow hoping for even just a few more seconds of sleep.

there's a muffled giggle from behind you that reminds you there are two other people in the room with you. poking your head up and turning towards the sound you see Padme staring at you with an amused smile while she brushes her hair back into a ponytail. she gets it on the first try too, unfair. you have to rage quit at least three times before your ponytail is even remotely smooth enough to gaslight yourself into thinking it looks good.

"good news you don't have to be up for another hour" she says while looking at the built-in wall mirror, checking to make sure her hair looks good you guessed.

"well i'm up now" you rasp out and she laughs while you clear your throat, stretching out fully before sitting up and rubbing the crud out of your eyes.

"you're not a morning person are you?" she seems very entertained by the beast you wake up as. Honey once compared you to a bear coming out of hibernation when you woke up the first time you guys had a sleepover, you couldn't deny the accuracy.

"not really…" you trail off while fighting back a yawn. there's a small silence while Padme squirts sunscreen into her hands and begins to apply it on her face and arms. you take the moment to look around the room, Jasmine's bed is empty. evidently, you were the only non morning person here.

"do you want me to walk you to the crafts center?" you hum in thought at Padme's question while you clumsily stumble out of your bed.

"don't we have breakfast first?" you question while pulling out your clothes for the day, including your own Camp Wookiee Shirt.

"yea but it's probably a smart idea to figure out where you'll be heading to afterward" she answers, turning around to give you privacy while you change.

"won't i be able to walk with Rex or Anakin?" you ask, and she shrugs as you zip up your shorts and give her the okay to turn back around.

"Rex probably, Anakin no." you raise a brow and she hands you her sunscreen, before you can refuse her she gives you a look you’d only seen your mom give you when you weren’t listening. you don't bother arguing as she was not going to take no for an answer. "Anakin isn't a morning person either- he never shows up to breakfast. which is probably why he always steals Ben's lunch."

"and Ben lets him?" you snort and Padme nods.

"they grew up together, really close families. he sorta takes care of Anakin like an older brother i suppose." you smile at the thought of a young Ben taking care of an even younger Anakin.

"where's Jasmine gone? i haven't gotten the chance to speak to her at all." Padme doesn't bother to hide her sour expression, guess she trusts you enough now to let her true feelings show or she always did but didn’t want to do anything while Jasmine was in the room.

"Jasmine doesn't talk to anyone, she keeps to herself." you frown, Padme doesn't seem like the type of person to hate someone just because they're a loner- and if she was you didn't wanna be friends with someone like that.

"so what's exactly going on between you two anyway?" you needed to know if this friendship was going to continue.

"it's a long story, but let's just say Jasmine isn't a good person.. like at all and she's a liar who got caught pretty much instantly. and when she got confronted rather than owning up to her actions she got defensive." well now you were even more interested but she wasn't in the mood to get into details. you'd have to ask the boys about it at breakfast if you remembered, provided they didn't sit at the same table as Padme's friends.

"honestly i was shocked to find out she came back this year, i figured they hired you because she left" interesting, whatever she did must have happened just last summer then.

"does no one like her?" you don't mean to keep berating her with questions but couldn't resist the nagging curiosity.

"trust me when i say it'd be more surprising if anyone did like her" what the hell did this girl do to become the social piranha of an entire camp?

you push down the rest of your questions for now, letting there be a peaceful silence as you both exit the cabin.

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you both go on a stroll together before heading to breakfast. Padme took the time to show you around more of the Camp pointing out what each building was and where each path leads, it was still a little confusing but you at the very least wouldn't get lost if you ended up by yourself at some point.

Ben and Rex were sat at the table they initially sat at yesterday. they gave you a wave when you made eye contact and you smiled in return.

"i'm gonna sit with just the boys is that okay?" you ask while turning to Padme who's digging through the bin of fruit snacks looking for the purple pack instead of the blue. you don't blame her everyone knows the purple pack is superior.

"you don't have to run your decisions by me y/n" she teases and you nudge her with your elbow in response. "besides we sleep in the same cabin, you can't get rid of me that easily" she jokes.

"you're right, guess i'm stuck with you for the entirety of camp against my will" this time Padme nudges you causing you both to burst out laughing.

"i'll see you later y/n" she says and gives you a little wave as you split off in separate directions.

"well good morning, i'm surprised you're not tired of us yet" Rex says in greeting as you plop down next to Ben.

"mmm i'd say i'm bordering on just tolerating you guys at most" the banter was instinctive at this point.

"ah i see we're one in the same then" Ben chuckles then takes a big bite of hash. his plate was loaded compared to yours and Rex's, that's a lot considering how much you love to eat. it does however make more sense on why he doesn't seem to care about Anakin stealing his lunch.

"i know we have the rest of the week to ourselves before campers get here, so what exactly are we going to be doing at our jobs if there's no one to perform them for?" you wonder out loud for either of them to answer.

"nothing really, it's just the camp's way of allowing us to hang out and still get paid for it." you give Rex a 'are you serious?' look and he smiles "what? our Camp directors actually like us believe it or not. i'm sure if there were more newbies like you it would be us learning the jobs. but since it's almost always the same people every year this is what it's turned into."

"so this is like a retreat for you guys?" Rex finishes his last bite of food before responding.

"as much of a retreat as you can get with 100 gremlins running around" you nearly choke to death on your food. Ben rubs your back in support as you catch your breath while laughing. note to your future self don't eat around Rex, it's a dangerous game to play.

"drink some water y/n" Ben says in between laughs, him and Rex are both loud enough to garner the attention of the whole lunch room. you're not exactly a shy person but you can't help the heat in your cheeks or the way you slink down hiding your face behind the water bottle you drink out of with just about everyone's eyes on you as they try to decipher what happened.

thankfully it doesn't take long for them to lose interest and carry on in their individual conversations but you still fight the urge to kick both boys for embarrassing you like that.

"i hate both of you" they just smile with matching cheesy grins and you roll your eyes.

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the walk to the crafts center with Rex is just as good bad as you both kept fooling around to see who could make the other laugh harder. it doesn't die down even when you both see Anakin waiting out front of the lodge for you two with his arms crossed and an annoyed face.

Qui-Gon gave Rex the keys to open it because he was the more responsible one, but you had a feeling he'd have given it to you if he knew you a little better.

"what're you two on about?" Anakin grumbles as you both come to a stop in front of him, wiping tears from your eyes and stifling your laughter which only seemed to worsen his mood. he really wasn't a morning person wow.

"Rex just said something funny" you shrug; truth be told nothing you two had said within the last ten minutes made any sense but for some reason that made it all the more hilarious.

Anakin's brows creased and you bite your bottom lip when the urge to reach over and smooth it out with your thumb manifests out of nowhere. it was almost laughable. you let your fingers twitch at your sides instead.

Rex gets the door open with a creak which effectively pulls your attention away from the disgruntled boy in front of you.

the inside was plain, there were multiple picnic benches and some empty corkboards on the walls. you took note of the supply closet in the back and the cleaning supplies that rested beside the door.

"alright Jinn messaged me this morning and said that our only real job for this week is to clean and decorate this place for the campers." you give him a simple nod and walk toward the back of the room.

"does he prefer to be called Jinn or is that only allowed for people he's close with?" Rex takes a minute to consider your question like he'd never really thought about it before. you hand him the broom while you wait.

"i think he prefers Jinn but lets us decide what we're more comfortable with calling him" Anakin answers with a annoyed tone of voice after deciding Rex was taking to long.

"i'm gonna take the mop bucket out back to fill it with water from the hose" he says while turning his baseball cap around. you suddenly feel very warm, and it's not from the heat outside. you swallow before nodding and grabbing the container of Clorox wipes to clean off the dust from the tables.

as soon as Anakin exits the lodge Rex speaks up. "well he's in a pissy mood" you look at him incredulously.

"Padme told me he wasn't a morning person?" your voice is laced with uncertainty now unsure whether to believe that bit of info she'd given you.

"oh he's not, but it's also not usually this bad. then again i shouldn't be too shocked he's more emotional than a hormonal teenage girl" you deadpan at him and he immediately backtracks "not that i'm saying all teenage girls are emotional it's just-" he stops when he sees your lips twitch. "you're pulling my leg aren't you."

you break character instantly and burst out laughing "you should have seen the panic on your face oh my gosh" it's a laugh straight from your core one that makes Rex look like he may just smack you with the broom he's holding.

"okay seriously what am i missing? Rex is not that funny" Anakin huffs when he enters the lodge again, sounding like a pouty little kid who's not getting what they want.

"hey man she made herself laugh, i'm just an innocent victim" Rex defends while sweeping everything that was on the floor into a small pile.

"i was just messing with him" you smile; looking down as you continue the task you started.

"that i can get down with" he says with a smile letting the tension drop from his shoulders as he places the bucket down and goes to grab the mop.

you bite your tongue at the need to question what's going on with him and just finish wiping down each bench. you didn’t feel like you had the right anyway.

the three of you work together to finish cleaning the lodge. the clock on the wall showed it was now 11:00 am and lunch was at 12:00 pm so you had an hour to start working on decorations.

you all plop onto a shared bench and get to work. Anakin made a few star banners while you cut out and tapped a bunch of letters to the wall just below where the cork boards hung, they spelled out 'creativity' and 'imagination'. Rex was apparently the least creative out of the three of you so he was just busied himself with laying out all the crafts supplies so only the extra stuff was in the closet.

"if we finish all of this today, what do we do for the rest of the week?" you ask from the top of the stool you stood on. Anakin was behind you in case you fell while you hung up his banners.

he had offered to be the one to do the hanging but you insisted on being useful to which he replied 'oh yeah because you haven't been already' with the sassiest tone you'd ever heard from a man. to be fair Anakin was proving to be the leader of the sassy man apocalypse so you shouldn't have been shocked.

"we are gonna finish today, and that just means we get to chill for the rest of the week and test out projects for the kids to do" he answers and you see his hands flinch forward when the stool wobbles from you moving onto your tiptoes to get the height right for the banner. it shouldn't make your heart flutter the way it does after all he was quite literally just making sure you didn't bust your ass.

"wow Rex wasn't joking earlier then" you look down at him and there's that furrow in his brows again, it's gone when you blink making you think it was just your mind playing tricks on you.

"wait you didn't believe me?" the question comes from the opposite side of you as Rex seems to spawn out of nowhere. last you checked he was on the complete opposite side of the room organizing the construction paper by color and shade, who'd of guessed he was so particular about stuff like that.

"i was a little busy choking on my food to really process what you said" you rolled your eyes and he snorts nudging your leg with his shoulder which in turn makes the stool wobble and Anakin glare at him.

you ignore the way Rex and him have a wordless conversation and finish taping the last part of the banner.

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the rest of the day went by fast, which wasn't the least bit astonishing. what was however; to both you, Padme and just about every other staff member it seemed was seeing Anakin at Breakfast the next day.

he wasn't eating. he barely even looked conscious, but there he was directly across from Ben and Rex. he was half asleep fully leaning into the palm of his hand, the two boys watching him looked dumbfounded.

"am i hallucinating?" Padme pinches you and you yelp.

"doesn't seem like it" she says while you glare.

"i said hallucinating not dreaming" she throws a small pack of graham crackers at you and you both giggle.

"well if you're hallucinating so am i, and probably everyone else in here" she clapsback and gives you a weird smile that makes you wanna hide, it was like she saw right through you. you didn't think anyone other than Honey and your mom could do that.

"i'll see you later" there's a sparkle in her voice that you choose to ignore, waving goodbye and heading to the table the boys were sat at.

"are you even alive right now?" Anakin blinks awake at your question, rather than responding he scoots closer to you invading your personal space like he'd been doing since you first met the other day.

this boy clearly has something against there being any type of distance between two people when he sits next to them.

"i'd argue he thinks he's dreaming" Ben teases then snickers when he receives a kick under the table. you do your best to hide your confusion and focus on the food in front of you.

"how can you even eat right now?" Anakin mumbles from beside you.

"uhhh because it's 7 in the morning and i'm starving??" he makes a disgusted face that baffles you.

"the idea of eating this early is nauseating" he says through a yawn.

"that's because you're never awake this early" Rex snides. Anakin doesn't defend himself just grumbles incoherently, you think he might of mocked him but it was really hard to tell.

"you're disrupting the natural way of the world Anakin, next we'll find out there was a hurricane in Antarctica" you're about to comment on how that's not scientifically possible but then realize that's exactly why Ben said it.

"haha you're so very funny Kenobi" as much as Anakin was grumpy it was not nearly as bad as the grumpiness he greeted you and Rex with yesterday. not that you didn't believe Rex when he said he wasn't usually that bad but now that you were experiencing it yourself you understood a lot more.

"ooo Kenobi, we're using last names now. you must be pretty upset Skywalker' Ben teases, completely unafraid of the consequences he might have from teasing a sleep-ridden bear.

ah, you're seeing the whole hibernating bear thing now. poor Honey; if you'd known this is what she was dealing with in the morning you'd have started locking yourself in your room till you felt like a decent human being to confront the world.

after the bickering dies down there's a comfortable silence as everyone just enjoys their food, well besides Anakin who's more or less in his own world. it was nice and you let yours eyes travel around the room before landing on your cabin mate who's still not even given you so much as a greeting not to mention was sitting completely and utterly alone. there wasn’t even anyone sitting at the tables near by her.

"what's up with Jasmine?" the question startles the group. probably because to them it was out of nowhere, for you however it's been a burning topic just waiting to be discussed. "i've just noticed she doesn't talk much, and Padme said she lied or whatever but didn't tell me any actual details….i figured you guys might know" you cringe inwardly at yourself when they still don't say anything.

you shouldn't have asked, there was probably a good reason why Padme didn't want to get into details about what happened and now you've just ruined everyone's morning.

your internal monologue of despair was cut short by Rex. "she did some fucked up shit. mostly she spread a bunch of rumors around about people, and she lied about pretty much everything. it's honestly shocking the Directors didn't catch wind of anything." Well that's not good but it can't be that bad?

it very much was that bad. the biggest thing she did was out one of the older campers who felt so uncomfortable they left camp early. that was the turning point when everyone decided to confront her and she got defensive starting her lone wolf act.

Jada was the little girl's name and everyone loved her; she was apparently really sweet with short blonde hair paired with rosy cheeks and a subtle southern accent if you listened close enough.

her parents were super conservative so it's no wonder she'd feel uncomfortable with something like that floating around the camp. especially considering Parent week had been coming up at the time.

she also lied and spread rumors about several of the other girls at camp that were pretty damaging. one of the lesser rumors was about a girl she said was a slut who slept around with all of the guys on camp.

needless to say you understood everyone's opinions on her now, talk about violating on so many levels. how on earth was she still allowed to work here? everyone loved the camp directors and they didn't seem like people who would let something like that slide.

"Padme told me she was shocked that Jasmine even came back this year" you were shocked too now that you knew the extent of what had been done. "but how has no one complained about her directly to the directors?"

"we all sorta came to a unanimous decision to just pretend she doesn't exist." Ben answered while pushing his food around on his plate.

that didn't sit right with you, this is one of those times you speak up not stay silent. "why though?"

"well even though Jinn, Windu and Bail would believe us we'd still have to supply them with evidence for the big guys upstairs….which in turn would mean they'd have to contact everyone involved" he added that last part when he noticed it wasn't clicking in your head. it took a few moments before you let out a quiet oh.

Jada would have to be contacted. which would mean her parents would have to be contacted and since she's a minor they'd have to be told everything. so everyone was staying silent to protect her.

you felt a wave of newfound respect for every single person who worked here as well as a burning hatred for Jasmine. fuck her honestly. there was a long awkward lull in the conversation before it started back up again.

Rex was the one who managed to switch subjects. you ended up on the topic of how Ben and Padme were doing with the zip line course. to no one's surprise Padme was a natural at it, Ben said she got the hang of it after Windu explained it once whereas he had needed a few extra pointers. they also had to do a safety briefing then take a test to make sure they knew everything they would have to for the campers to be allowed on it.

talk about getting off easy on your end, a brief cleaning session followed by decorating a room hardly classified as work compared to what they had to do. not like you'd complain, this just meant you'd be spending the summer doing art. well that and looking after kids, you had a pretty natural affinity with children though so it wasn't a real worry on your end.

Your mom always said it was because you were as childish as them, you preferred carefree and whimsical but a win was a win.

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"that looks like shit" Rex is leaning over the table watching Anakin as he weaves bracelet strings together.

"you look like shit but i don't say anything" he quips, very obviously annoyed.

"did you even follow the directions?" Anakin ignores Rex at first but when he builds on the initial question with "because it doesn't look like you did" he gives him a deadly glare.

"i glanced at them and i got the basic idea" Rex looks ready to disagree with him and Anakin looks ready to shove every bead in the bowl next to him down his throat.

you don't say anything, holding your breath so you don't burst out laughing and end up the next target. although it's not like they could say anything about your bracelet as it actually looked like the picture, besides a few color changes.

"well look at yours! what even is that?" Anakin gestures to the bracelet if you could even call it that in Rex's hand, it looked like he hadn't even started.

"it's shit as well but at least i can admit that" He says pointedly and Anakin throws his half-finished attempt of a bracelet at him in response.

you can't hold it in any longer practically bursting into tears from how hard you laugh. both boy's heads snap toward you, Anakin wears a frown and Rex just looks stunned as if he'd forgotten you were there entirely.

"you two are utterly ridiculous" you wheeze and fight back snorting like a pig each time you gasp for air.

it's been like this all week as you guys experimented with different projects to do with the kids, getting to know each other way more in the process. the guys were pretty transparent from the beginning so it wasn't much of a shock when you discovered Anakin was in fact consistently childish and a bit moody but despite that he was extremely loyal and very kind.

he hides most of his real feelings with humor, your guess was he gets awkward when things get too serious so he keeps the mood light. and if that talk a few days ago at breakfast has anything to say it was safe to conclude he also resigns himself from conversations entirely when he's unsure what direction it will go.

Rex was generally a calm person, he could be serious when he needed to but prefers to joke around. which would explain why he always messes with Anakin so much. he's also extremely loyal and although he doesn't verbally express his emotions as much as Anakin does, he wears them all on his face.

Ben was the peacemaker but could be a shit stirrer too. As far as he was concerned Anakin was his brother and he had no problems arguing with anyone who said otherwise. overall the boys were all pretty similar but had their differences, it was nice to be a part of their group.

out of everyone you'd gotten the closest to Padme, sharing a room probably helped with that. but so did the fact you both shared similar interests, and even on the things you disagreed with you both still let the other gush as much as they wanted.

it was a nice little home away from home. you've kept Honey updated about everything any chance you got, but there was only so much you both could share from a distance and you couldn’t help but miss her badly. at the very least you could count on the fact camp would go by fast thanks to how fun it's been so far which meant you'd see Honey just as quickly.

that same thought made you feel a little glum but you never dwelled on it for too long, it was just the beginning after all and Campers would be arriving tomorrow morning.

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tag list: @anakinskwkler @anakinstwinklebunny @divineani

a/n: ITS HERE 🎉🎉🎉 everyone say thank you @munsondjarin who inspired me to write this fic 🤭

i can’t believe how much i actually wrote for just this one part, but it also makes sense considering im essentially just writing out the whole story and splitting it up by beginning, middle and end compared to a bunch of small individual chapters ✨

anyway i hope you all enjoy see you next week for Part 2 💋💋

have a good day Huns Xx <3

[catnipaddictt]

teeth

modern!anakin x gn!vampire reader wc: 2.1k tw: BLOOD - lots of talk about it, reader turns anakin into a vampire, kissing

synopsis: while on a routine visit to anakin, he decides he wants to be with you forever, even if that means giving up his human life

The trees of the now abandoned playground cast long shadows across the ground as you walked. The moon illuminated the road, bathing the dead silent street in a brilliant white light. You have made this trip a thousand times now, only at night, and ways by foot. It was safer for you this way. 

Rounding the block your senses pick up the rustling of a neighbor cat, who upon seeing your figure, immediately flees the scene. There is no wind tonight, the humid air of summer has long gone, replaced by a permanent nip at your porcelain like skin.

You pass by the places you know all too well by now. The sidewalk where you first saw him, the drooping willow tree where he ‘accidentally’ walked into you. You had a map of the neighborhood in your mind, pins dropped where-ever he had been. To say you were infatuated would be offensive.

His name was Anakin Skywalker. Your Ani. Sweet human Ani. He was young, well younger than you, but still a man. Rough hands and always tired eyes that always found their way to you, and you who eagerly accepted them. He was so close now, you could almost taste him. 

Running your tongue over your sharp teeth, you make your way down his garden, to the back door he left unlocked. Just for you. You tap your knuckles against the aging wood, waiting for your obsession to answer. 

A mop of curls and blue eyes appear almost as soon as you make yourself known. He was always waiting for you. He holds out his large palm for you, “come inside.” 

Anakin Skywalker never minded your prying eyes and unnatural temperature skin. It never bothered him that you only could visit him when it was dark or that you would wait until he collected you from the aging backdoor to his small apartment. All he knew was that he adored you. 

He adored the way you visited him every night and the way your words rolled off your tongue. He loved the way you spoke to him, possessive, in a way he knew he would never get enough off. 

Anakin trusted you with his life, there was something about you that intoxicated him. You made him feel hazy but focused at the same time. And he loved it.

He led you inside, past the kitchen countertop and the cluttered desk in his compact living room, until he reached the door to his bedroom which he pushed open. His hand encased yours as he brought you into his little sanctuary. 

You could hear the steady beat of his heart and the rush of blood in his veins as he settled in his plush bed, leaning against the wall. You sat opposite him as you always did, legs crossed and eyes taking him in. 

His soft sweatpants clung to his hips and as he raised his arm to push a stand of hair out of his face, you were blessed with a sliver of smooth skin. You didn't speak, you never had to, he talked and you listened. He told you about his day and what he ate for dinner. He tried to explain what it tasted like but can never find the words to describe all the different flavors. He always made an effort to try and help you understand humans more. 

It perplexed you how they lived such short lives, a brief dot in the history of humanity, and the world. You had been around for centuries before him, experience the change that came with it. Sometimes you would talk, never for long, about what it was like before cars or the invention of the telephone. 

Anakin loved hearing your voice, it was soft but smart, you always knew how to word things for him. Most nights, like this one, you didn't speak, only watched him and the pull of his lips as he told you a story. 

The words flowed out of his mouth smoothly as you remained transfixed on the human before you. He was just so precious? That was the only way to describe it. You wanted to keep him until the end of time itself. But there was only one way to do that and you didn't want to take his normal life away from him just yet 

It was like he could hear your brain ticking away, “What are you thinking about huh? What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?” He cooed at you. He spoke softly.

At the beginning of your nightly meeting, you had been skittish and unsure. You had steered clear of humans for as long as you could remember. Anakin had spooked you a few times in the past, but you had gotten a lot more comfortable around him. You knew he wasn't going to hurt you. Nowadays he loves to tease and joke with you. Anakin was naturally a flirt and he thrived on seeing your cheeks heat up. However he still made an effort to be gentle towards you. 

You blink at him a few times before thinking. “You” is all you reply, your voice quiet. He smiles at you, placing his palm out for you to take. You do, letting his large hand envelope yours. He rubs soothing circles over your knuckles as he speaks. “Yeah? What about me?” He asks in a teasing manner. 

There had always been something unspoken between you two. Although he was yours in your head, you had never verbalized your possession of him. You tilt your head slightly, “just you.” 

“Uh-huh” he nods, making eye contact. His rough hands continue to play with your slender fingers, running the pad of his index finger over your sharp, deep red nails. Nail polish was one of humanity's greatest inventions.

You could smell the blood surging away Anakin's body, you could also taste the iron in your mouth. Shaking your head, you try to snap out of it. It would be irresponsible to turn him, you could satisfy your need for blood elsewhere.

You feel Anakin take a deep breath before he speaks again. “I want you to do your thing to me.” His fingers run over your knuckles. You look at him with big eyes, wondering if you heard him correctly. You look at him questioningly, wanting him to elaborate. He surely couldn't mean what you thought he did. Could he?

“I know it sounds crazy, but I want you too” he continues. You just sit there, thinking over the options in your head. You didn't want to take his whole future away from him. He was a good human, he had a good job and a normal good life to look forward to. And if you took that away, well he would have a future, it would just be a much longer one. You don't know if you could burden him with that.

“I know you don't want to,” he speaks, “but I've thought it over and I don't want this to end. For us to end. Even if there is no us right now, I want there to be” 

His shining blue eyes met yours, searching for a sigh or something to let him know what you are thinking. Inside you are a total mess, he wants there to be an us. Maybe your feelings towards him haven't been one sided after all. You just never thought he, a human, would ever like you, something very much not human. 

“Say something?” He asks cautiously, his thumb rubbing a circle on the top of your hand. “Are you sure?” You question lightly. You wanted nothing more than to sink your fangs into the flesh of his neck, but you knew, at least up until now, that doing that would be reckless. Downright irresponsible of you. But now things had changed, he wanted you to. Anakin Skywalker was inviting you to take him for all eternity.

“I'm sure. I want this, and I know you do too. I've seen the way you look at my throat and the way your pupils get bigger when you run your fingers over my wrists. You want this probably more than I do.” He speaks, his words getting bolder by the second. 

Biting in the inside of your cheek, you think it over. It would uproot his whole life, make everything ten times more difficult than they already were. But you wanted this too. You wanted him.

“Okay” you answer finally. You hear his heart race at your reply, he really did want this. His hand squeezes you as he blinks at you softly. “How do we do this?” He asks.

You had never shared with him the secrets of turning mortals into immortals. You really had no authority too as you had never tried. You knew how it works, but this would be an experience for both you and Anakin. 

“I bite you, I'll be gentle I promise. It will probably feel weird at first, but just relax” you voice mesmerizes Anakin as he takes in your words. He was nervous, a bit afraid, but he knew he wanted this. 

“Okay” he responds to you, nodding his head. You move yourself closer to him, your legs now bumping into each other. He moves from leaning against the wall to cross legged in front of you. “Is there anything you want to do before I, you know?” You ask.

Anakin nods before bringing his hands to either side of your face. “Can I kiss you?” He asks permission, which you give in the form of a nod. He brings his face closer and closer to yours, then suddenly his lips are on yours.

The kiss is sweet and you lean into it. You had never kissed a human before but you liked it. The feeling of him so close to you was intoxicating and you didn't want him to stop. Eventually he has to break away for air, giving you a dopey grin. Now that he had gotten his wish there was only one thing to do.

You take his face in your hands, looking into his baby blue eyes. He gives you a nod of confirmation and then you are tilting his head to the side to expose the expanse of his neck. Your tongue runs over your teeth, preparing yourself. Bringing yourself closer to his neck, you can feel the blood streaming below the smooth skin, inviting you to take a bite. 

Your mouth makes contact with his neck, finding the right spot before running your tongue over it. You were finally getting what you really wanted, him. You knew deep down that it would always turn out this way. Once you attached to him, he was never getting away easily. Sinking your teeth into him would mean you got what you truly craved. 

Slowly you bare your fangs against him so that he could feel the points of your canines pressing against his skin. Not enough to break through, but as a warning for what was about to happen. You take a deep breath in, letting the smell of iron and Anakin's natural musk envelop you. It was now or never. Gently you sink your teeth into Anakin's neck. Your eyes almost rolled back in pleasure, he tasted better than you could have imagined. All blood tastes different, but Anakin's was by far the best you had ever drunken. Although maybe the fact that he was the only human you talked to made it better. 

He tasted almost familiar, sweet and delicious. You suck at the wound in his neck, pulling the divine sensation of his hot blood into your awaiting mouth. Anakin seemed fine so far, nothing drastic had occurred, however you could sense a feeling of slight unease about him. But that was to be expected with your latched onto his skin, tanned from the sun. 

You only drank what you needed from him, you didn't want to leave him weak. After you had your feast, you lap at the holes on his neck, trying to stop the flow of rich blood. You pull away in time to see Anakin flex his fingers and look at you.

He was different. His blue eyes had a new feeling to them; while they were still the same blue, they seemed to hold more depth than before. He is still your Anakin, but now he has a sense of eternity about him. You could say that he had become one of your kind. He runs a large hand through his curls before taking your hands in his. “Till eternity do us part”

taglist: @qvnthesia @anisscarletstarlet @inneedsoffanfics @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @anakinstwinklebunny @deathst9rs

thanks to my lovely editor @memoiich for this one <3

[endless-ineffabilities]

Masterlist 📝

about the author: Freyja (freɪə), 20-something, Londoner, Virgo sun / Scorpio moon / Libra rising, I write as I please about whom I please (and for you, of course, on the chance that you enjoy my writing! 🖤) ~

This is a regularly updated list of my works; all are x f!Reader unless otherwise stated. I try not to include outright physical attributes for the female lead, to leave her appearance open to interpretation.

Please do NOT copy, repost, steal, or translate any of these! My works should only exist here, on Tumblr. I have not and will not post them on any other platform, nor do I consent to any other individual doing so.

⚔️ Refer here to be tagged in House of the Dragon fics

💌 anon list

The Sandman

Morpheus / Corinthian

Ineffable (series) *on hiatus

Corinthian

Easy on the eyes (series) (18+) *on hiatus

Morpheus

Only you can set alight the fire in me (oneshot)

House of the Dragon

Daemon Targaryen

Oneshots

Without you, I would not be

She is my heart

ñuha mērī jorrāelagon

feast

rogue ink

turning red

Series / Miniseries

but daddy, I love him (chapter one - chapter two - chapter three)

this world was never meant for a fire like yours (18+)

in the shadow of your heart (part one - part two)

Aemond Targaryen

Oneshots

some jealous Aemond Targaryen scenarios

burn them all for you

a little game (modern au)

hmm (a christmas drabble)

sepār iā sylutegon (just a taste)

your heart's serrated edges are much like mine own (18+)

dragonfire

i will never say that I am in love

the sapphire and his sun

backhand stroke (tennis au) (18+)

diet pepsi (18+)

official business (president!Aemond au)

Series / Miniseries

prūmia va perzys (heart on fire) series

part one: don't you love me?

part two: and what of your love? (18+)

part three: the flames that divide (18+)

part four: the aftermath

part five: never tear us apart

part six:

part seven:

maroon (a modern au series) (18+)

sapphire-hearted (a miniseries) (18+)

of perilous desire - one: rhaenagon -

national anthem (president!Aemond au series) (18+)

Daemon and/or Aemond

A dance with two rogue dragons

If these walls could speak (18+)

midnights imagines : question...? - anti-hero - labyrinth - lavender haze -

dialogue series: King? -

Star Wars

Anakin Skywalker

As I believe in you (oneshot)

there's hope for us, yet - part 1 - part 2

MCU

Bucky Barnes

reconnaissance - one - two - three

babydoll (oneshot)

so high school - one - two

dollface (18+)

Steve Rogers / Bucky Barnes

The Bolter (series) (18+)

World On Fire

Tom Bennett

tongue in cheek (one - two - three - four )

John Wick 4

Marquis Vincent de Gramont

le marquis et le moineau - (ill)fated - first dance -

Ewan Mitchell

chemical override (series)

blue eyes so green (oneshot)

x classical violinist reader (oneshot)

sun (oneshot)

[starmanskywalker]

possession · anakin skywalker x f!reader

hello there, @snippy-tano! i tried to do something different here, still respecting the core of your prompt and i wholeheartedly hope you enjoy this one, dear!

synopsis: you broke free from a cult a while ago. your leader - and ex-lover - wants you back. 

⚠️ the jedi temple in this fic is a literal cult. ⚠️ this is a modern, no powers!au fic set in the 70s bc i’ve always wanted to write something set in that decade. even though this is very much a dubcon work, i still feel like it deserves the dead dove do not eat tag, as cults are a delicate subject and there’s a scene featuring a very inebriated reader and a very sexually eager cult leader!anakin. huge, blaring trigger warnings for drug abuse, manipulation, coercion, psychological abuse and many other toxic behaviors cult leaders are known for having. if you're a minor, stay away!

i lowkey think this would also work so well as an obi-wan fic but anakin was also very, very fun to write in this context. feel free to send me prompts involving him or obi anytime you like (i might take a bit long to write but maybe you’ll think it’s worth it!)

word count: 6.599 (shit that’s long!)

When you left the Jedi Temple, you felt like the world as you knew it before turned upside down. To put it in more precise terms, you felt like an unfrozen comic book hero that came back from the realm of the unconscious.

You’ve spent seven years of your life with little contact to the mundane world outside of what Anakin allowed you and the other members of the Temple to see, hear and taste. Your entire existence revolved around him and his needs - after all, Anakin Skywalker was The Chosen One. The Force itself, that mysterious energy field that binds the galaxy and all members of the Jedi Temple together in its arduous mission to bring peace, equality and compassion to an increasingly unfair, unequal and war-torn world, chose him to lead you. So how could you say no to such a noble mission?

And what a mission that was. Seeing yourself in a mirror after all you’ve been through without the rose-colored glasses sponsored by Anakin’s constant and almost mantra-esque praise to you was quite something.

Your body was begging for rest in every possible way - your hair had stopped growing, giant dark circles had formed under your eyes and you didn't even have time to eat properly among so many tasks that were assigned to you on a daily basis, resulting in a drastic change on how you looked. During your time under Anakin’s watch, you were PR, secretary, cook, coordinator, supervisor, presenter, confidant, administrator and one of his many lovers; the amount of titles growing every day while no kind of worldly remuneration appeared as a reward.

Thinking about Anakin still stirred so many difficult and confusing feelings inside you. He supposedly loved you more than anything else in the world, yet still brought so many other women to his bed. You were his and only his, yet your body was often the bargaining chip he offered in some of his treasured, nefarious deals with politicians, bankers and other powerful men like him, which you accepted gracefully to please him. And Lord, how you yearned to please him in any and every way you could. This feeling was the only one you were able to discern clearly out of so many that disappeared in the mental fog of overwork. 

He was beautiful, even more dashing when his attention was directed entirely to you. His compliments meant more, his touches were more eager, his smiles wider when you did everything you could for his cause.

There were days you only thought about the good aspects of your past life - and there were days the only memories that pierced your mind were the bad ones. Yet it’s kinda funny how almost a year later after you left he is still the center of all these thoughts.

Even if your current life is stable, calm and fairly easy. Even if your current partner is an angel who does treat you like they indeed love you. Even if you made them a promise you would never, ever look back.

Anakin, as always, makes things way harder than they really need to be.

-

The weight of loving Anakin and his community became too heavy to bear for you and your partner around the same time, for widely different reasons that coincided with a period of growing closeness between you. The fact that what drew you to your current significant other was precisely how much they reminded you of Anakin made you worry about the future you were building together from the start, yet Anakin was an addiction you always knew you wouldn’t break free from easily.

(Better to wean off in gradually smaller doses than to quit cold turkey.)

Another thing you always knew was that your partner would adapt to this new life much easier than you did, as they weren't as loyal to the cause as you were. They found new friends that also became your friends, yet at dinners and parties you always felt a little more out of place than them. Your jokes didn’t quite land, you were never the funniest or smartest on the table, not even for a minute, despite how hard they always tried to make you feel included. It’s always been like that for you, really, except for the time you were there.

With Anakin. By his side.

The feeling of belonging somewhere, especially when accompanied (or led) by a beautiful, well-spoken and ambitious man is a hell of a drug. A drug strong enough to numb the rage within you brought by the memories of the alienation and paranoia spiral he instilled in you constantly. The memories of the countless sleepless nights you’ve spent dealing with Anakin’s coke-fueled persecution complex. The unspeakable things he had you do to prove you were by his side and not against him and the cause. 

A drug strong enough to make you accept a specific invitation.

At the beginning of a certain day, a stranger bumped into you while you walked into the street and left a piece of paper in your coat’s pocket. Classic Temple method of sending a message. However, instead of the usual threats and condemnations for leaving the community, you find something else entirely new.

Anakin wanted to speak to you. Alone.

You’d go just to get some much needed closure for what you went through by his side. Just that. Close this chapter of your life once and for all. After all, what harm could a simple conversation do?

You felt horrified that you still found yourself wondering what he’d think of you now; deep down you were afraid of him giving up on you entirely even though you truly didn’t want to be part of his mess anymore. Yet not having a door open to his path anymore frightened you to your core because even with its hundred million flaws, you still saw the Temple as a place you belonged in. 

You feared that feeling in itself. Every decision it made you take. All the euphoria it still, regrettably and shamefully, brings you.

Your partner notices you growing more silent by the day as the calendar approaches the fateful date. Your mind was in a complete state of turmoil. You left the Temple months ago, determined to start a new life for yourself, one free from the darkness that had consumed you before. But despite your best efforts, you couldn't shake the memories of what had transpired between you and Anakin, or the longing you felt for the leader who had shown you for the first time, even if in his own twisted way, what it was like to have an entire community to go back to, one that appreciated you. 

You feel a familiar flutter in your stomach, a mix of anticipation and fear that you couldn't ignore every time you think a little too much about Anakin's intense gaze and commanding presence. What would he say when he saw you? Would he be angry at you for leaving, or would he welcome you back with open arms? And more importantly, why would you even want to be welcomed back? 

As you sat across from each other at the dinner table night after night, your partner couldn't help but notice the faraway look in your eyes. You seemed to be lost in thought most of the time, and your change in behavior coincided with the growing feeling you shared that you were being spied on by Temple’s members everywhere you went. Your partner, more than anyone else, knew what the Temple meant to you, and that leaving it behind had been a difficult and painful process for you both, but they couldn't help but feel frustrated that they couldn't seem to reach you. 

And, dreadfully, that they know the reason why.

-

August 31st, 1979

As you drove to the address indicated in the now crumpled piece of paper, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nervous, reprehensible excitement building within you. It had been so long since you had felt this kind of intensity, this kind of connection to something greater than yourself. The memories of your time in the cult - your partner made sure to repeat this word to you as often as they could - flooded back to you, and you felt a sense of longing and belonging that you hadn't felt in a very long time.

But beneath the surface of your excitement, there was also a deep sense of fear and trepidation. You knew what Anakin was capable of, how he could push you to your limits and beyond. You remembered all the pain and all the humiliation, the sense of being stripped down to your very core. But even as these memories surfaced, you couldn't help but feel drawn to the system who had once held such power over you. You knew that what you were doing was dangerous, that you were walking a fine line between ecstasy and the destruction of everything you’ve built away from his grasp. But as you approach the place where you’ll meet him, you feel a sense of inevitability wash over you. You were in too deep, and there was no turning back now.

The few Temple members always present by Anakin’s side - you know them too well, after all, most of them also shared the same bed you slept on most nights - all welcome you with a disarming kindness that the outside world and its people just can’t match, even with the many hurtful words that were exchanged when you and your partner left. The outside world could never match such selflessness and forgiveness. This realization breaks your heart so strongly you swear you can feel it physically. Did I do wrong by leaving? Is it too late to have it all back? Why am I questioning myself over my safe, sane, final choice?

Padmé, Sabé, Ahsoka, they’re all wide smiles, lighthearted jokes and they exude a strong feeling of happiness for having you, even if for a short while, around them again. Despite an initial distrust from your part that manifested itself through curt words, you eventually engage in lively chatter with the girls like nothing between you ever changed. You talk about everything and nothing at the same time as you all tried to avoid the elephant in the room: the reason you were there.

Your smile falters when Padmé hands you a white, delicate, flimsy gown that leaves you feeling way more exposed than you’ve ever been since you left. She notices your discomfort and places a hand on your shoulder. “This is all about healing. We’re so happy you’re back.”

This specific dress is only used by women who go through The Rebirth. A private ceremony between the Temple’s leader and a follower that promises to bring the follower closer to the divine.

Despite how close you were to Anakin, you were never invited to a ritual of his yourself, you just heard of them. He always told you you didn’t need it and you knew better than to probe him about it. It’s funny how the opportunity appeared only after you left his circle.

All you knew was that the Temple’s rituals, usually aimed at the unruly, alternated through a range of activities and experiences intended to be intense, transformative, and meaningful; perfectly crafted to reach people Anakin couldn’t solely reach through words or promises. These imperfect followers would afterwards appear completely different after their closer encounters to the Force. Some left the Temple, some stayed. But they were all similarly profoundly changed: some women disappeared, some women started to believe in miracles, some became part of his inner circle.

“I’m… I’m just here to talk t--”

“And that’s all you’ll do, if that’s what you want. But keep in mind it's not every day that you’ll get to be a part of something like this.”

You begrudgingly nod, forcing yourself to smile again. “Okay.”

“You trust me?”

“I do.”

“I’ll tell him you’re here. Could you please change your clothes while I go up there? Remember we need you to be as comfortable as possible, so please don’t wear anything underneath the dress.”

“Okay.”

You close your eyes as you feel your stomach dropping. You take a few deep breaths.

You were just reminded of what you didn’t miss about the Temple.

Ahsoka and Sabé promptly offer to help you in changing clothes, which you accept. A few minutes later, Padmé returns with a kind expression on her face, extending a hand towards you. “Master Skywalker is waiting for you.”

You take her hand and follow her through the series of steps. You felt your heart racing as you were led deeper into the building. You knew that you’d been tricked, but now it was too late to turn back. You could feel the intensity of the ritual building around you, and you knew that you were in for something far more riskier than you had bargained for.

You finally arrive at the door and, surprisingly, Padmé gives you a warm hug before leaving. Some minutes pass, no sign of anything or anyone. Were you supposed to knock or something…?

Before you could answer that question to yourself, Anakin opens the door and the oxygen is ripped out of your lungs in a way you couldn’t anticipate. You’re like a fish out of water; you can hardly believe your eyes. There he is, the one person you thought you'd never see again, standing before you.

Anakin's bathed by the muted light of candles in a sight that could be painted by the Force itself. He’s shirtless, wearing only sweatpants, his golden skin and defined physique bared for you to see. He moves some rebellious strands away from his eyes to see you more clearly.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you struggle to catch your breath at the sight of him. The room is too hot, seeing him again is too overwhelming. You want to leave, to get as far away from this place as possible. But before you can make your way back, Anakin holds your arm, his voice calm and reassuring. “Are you okay?” he asks softly.

You shake your head, unable to form words.

"Come in," he says, taking you inside gently. “No need to be scared.”

As he envelops you in his arms and closes the door, you are immediately struck by the religious imagery that surrounds you. There are symbols and icons everywhere, each one imbued with its own powerful meaning. The space feels simultaneously cozy and imposing, the perfect balance between comfort and awe.

Your eyes drift across the room, taking in the details. There are candles burning in every corner, casting flickering shadows on the walls. The air is thick with incense, a heady mix of spice and smoke. In the center of the room, there is an altar, adorned with offerings and gifts.

He leads you to a quiet corner of the room. There, he holds you close, murmuring words of comfort and reassurance.

"I can’t believe you came, little bird," he says. "I’ve missed you.”

You can feel the strength of his arms around you, the familiar scent of his skin. As he pulls away and looks into your eyes, you can see a mixture of emotions playing across his face. You're not sure what he's thinking, but you sure can sense the power he still holds over you, especially when he calls you by that pet name. Despite your best intentions, you know that being in his presence again will be a test of your willpower and resolve. It’s already being one, to be honest.

As you struggle to calm down from your panic attack, Anakin continues to hold you close and stroke your hair. You feel his gentle touch and the steady rhythm of his breath, and it begins to soothe you. You hate the fact that it’s soothing you. 

He speaks to you softly, using words you can barely hear as you focus on slowing your breathing. "You're safe here," he says, "You're with me again, and everything will be okay."

You look up at him, trying to speak, but your voice is still caught in your throat. He nods, understanding, and simply holds you a little tighter.

As he continues to speak in soothing tones, you try to remind yourself that his words are simply a means to an end, a way to control you once again. Your mind races as you struggle to push away the memories of what he's done to you in the past. But despite your attempts to resist, you can't deny the feeling of safety that washes over you in his embrace.

You know that you shouldn't give in to his words, that you should fight back and leave this place. But deep down, a part of you yearns for the familiar comfort of the Temple, of him. The part of you that craves his attention, his approval, his touch. Who can’t get enough of it.

In that moment, you realize that you're falling prey to him all over again, despite everything you've been through. You feel a deep sense of shame and disgust at yourself, but it's drowned out by the overwhelming desire to be near him once more. Even if for a while.

That makes it even harder for you to speak. Your voice seems to have been swallowed up by the overwhelming emotions churning inside of you. You used to be so confident and outspoken while you were under his wing, but now you feel like a mere shadow of yourself, unsure of what to say or how to act. You hate how vulnerable you feel in his presence, how powerless you are against the pull he has over you. So you just stare, unable to do much else.

Anakin briefly lets go of you to gently touch your hand. He looks at you intently, his piercing gaze locked onto yours. "I understand how overwhelming this is for you, but I promise you you're safe with me. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to.”

“Why did you want to speak to me?” You protest, your voice cracking as you force the words out of you, almost as a way of rebelling against his guidance. You pull away and distance yourself from him.

Skywalker looks at you with a solemn expression, searching your face. "I called you here because I want to offer you a chance at redemption," he says, his voice steady and calm. "I know you've been struggling with feelings of inadequacy since you left us. I just want to help you find your way back to the right path."

He pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in. “You were always one of my most faithful Knights," he continues. "I know you still have that spark inside of you. The spark that made you believe in me, that made you want to devote yourself to this. I want to help you rekindle that spark.”

You feel a wave of conflicting emotions wash over you as you listen to his words. Part of you wants to believe him, to trust that he has your best interests at heart. But another part of you is wary, remembering that the only reason he knows that, literally, is because he’s been ordering people to follow you.

“I don't know if I can trust you,” you manage to say, your voice shaking slightly.

Anakin’s expression softens, and he takes a step closer to you. "I understand why you might feel that way," he says. "But I want to assure you that I have no intention of hurting you. I want to help you heal, to help you find peace and purpose in your life. All you have to do is trust me. I promise that I'll be there for you every step of the way."

“Even if I don’t stay?”

You notice a flash of desperation in his eyes, which he tries to conceal. “We have something for you much more powerful than what your current life is offering you. And I think you know that, too.”

“I left for a reason.”

“And I can give you many others to come back. Your new life is just an illusion, a temporary fix to a problem that will only grow worse.” As he speaks to you, you feel his words sinking into your mind. He’s a specialist at tearing down the walls you’ve built to protect yourself from his influence, brick by fucking brick. 

“I love my partner. That’s… that’s not an illusion.” You answer, not really believing your own words.

“A partner you’ve found here. A partner you’ve chosen to live a life with where you constantly look for things to try to fill the emptiness of not being here.”

You feel a maelstrom of emotions swirling within you, making it difficult to discern which way is up. The memories of the past, the good and the bad, flood your mind, clouding your judgment. You want to believe that you can be free from Anakin and live a normal life, but something inside you is drawn to his words. Something that also reminds you that there’s no such thing as a normal life after this one, after meeting him, after letting him in control for so long.

The thought of giving him another chance both terrifies and excites you, and you feel yet another wave of guilt crashing unto you for even entertaining it. He can tell he put you in a tug-of-war between what you know is right and what you truly want. “I only want what’s best for you. Deep down you know that being here is where you truly belong.”

"I don't know anymore. It's just... it's really not that simple--" You hesitate, noticing how his gaze is morphing into something much less fraternal the moment he notices there’s ground for his persuasiveness to tread on. You step back and start walking in the opposite direction, not noticing how easy you’re making it for him to corner you. He slowly, predatorily follows your steps.

“What's not simple about it? I know we bring you more fulfillment than anything or anyone else in this world.”

“I’m confused, Master!” You yelp, your heart beating fast once again at the looming threat of history repeating itself and at the shock of you instinctively calling him by his title again. You knock over an offering and you cover your mouth while trying not to hyperventilate once more.

“Then let me help you. Come back home and we can work through this together.” Successfully having you where he needed you to be, he moves your hand away from your mouth, almost whispering as he lowers his head to speak closer to your ears. “You just need the right guidance, the right push. And I am here to give that to you.”

“They are so devoted to you. I don't know if I can be like them. What if I change my mind again?”

"Don't worry about them. You're not like anyone else. You're special.” You find yourself getting lost in his words, feeling a sense of comfort that you haven't experienced in such a long time. You know that you shouldn't trust him, that he's just trying to fuck with you, but you can't help the way you're feeling. “I can mold you into the perfect follower, the perfect partner, the perfect lover. You'll be amazed at what we can accomplish together. It’s not like you don’t already know, right?"

In that moment, you're no longer the strong-willed person who left the Temple behind. Instead, you're a vulnerable follower once again, willing to do anything to please your leader.

“I mean it when I say I’ve missed you. You don’t know what you do to me,” he confesses in a raspy, needy tone while his fingers gently move the straps of your dress away from your shoulders, making you shiver. His need for you also tore down some of his own walls. “Couldn’t fucking breathe knowing you were living with someone else.”

“Anakin–” you squeak, breathless as the silky fabric slides easily above your skin and pools at your feet, leaving you bare in front of him like a freshly prepared meal. Vulnerable doesn’t even start to define how afraid, uncertain and exposed you feel right now. Anakin seems to notice things are going at a pace that’s not compatible with how frail your trust in him is, so he does his best to keep his composure and go back on track.

“Lie down for me at the altar, little bird.” He orders, his tone very artificially patient.

Trembling, you do as you're told. The marble is cold against your skin and you flinch at the touch, the heat of the candles balancing your temperature when you finish positioning yourself. 

“You were lost, but now you're found. You were blind, but now you see.” He intimately preaches for your ears only, punctuating his command with the softest of caresses on your cheek. Your voice weakly paired with his at the last few words, as you remembered them with a painful familiarity and ease. “You thought you could leave me behind, but you belong to me. You belong to this community and now we will reforge that bond. Would you like that?”

You close your eyes, the certainty of your fate now making place to a strange serenity. “Yes.”

“Good.” He replies, pouring oil in his hands and spreading it between his palms and fingers. “Now relax. You will be enlightened and empowered like never before.” His hands firmly massage your skin in unhurried movements making your stomach flood with butterflies, his touch as inebriating as the whirlwind of thoughts running inside your head. “I sense so much fear flowing through you.”

You moan in response to the smooth sliding of his hands over your tense body. As Anakin applies pressure to your muscles, making them feel looser and more relaxed by the minute, you shiver at the realization of how much you missed being this close to him in such an intimate way. “Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate…” 

“Hate… leads to suffering.” You complete, swallowing hard afterwards as if to clean how dirty you felt by falling into this as easily as you did.

“Exactly. Let yourself be at ease. You carry a heavy burden, love, and it's my job to help you lighten that load.” You can feel the purpose of his touch gradually morph into something much more unvirtuous as he palms your abdomen and moves upwards, now fondling both of your breasts exploratorily, basking on how velvety your skin feels after all this time you’ve spent apart. 

A flicker of apprehension rushes through your veins as you sluggishly try to move his hands away from you, but instead your limbs just rest atop of his, your relaxed body unable to follow through with any movement that demands more than a few active brain cells. ​​A wave of anger at yourself and at him rolls weakly through your mind, promptly subdued by how blurred the lines between pleasure and shame start to feel on your mind and frame. His soft touch starts driving you a little crazy; after what seems like forever, he finally tweaks your nipples, eliciting a soft whimper out of you.

“Let me take care of you,” he quietly pleads, hopefully having noticed to some degree that you still were trying to resist him in some way. While Anakin continues to knead the soft flesh, his thumb flicking across your nipple until it’s painfully erect, the other slowly goes down your abdomen until it reaches the most sensitive part of you. You sigh, utterly, impossibly resigned to the situation that’s unfolding. Also to let go, at least partially, of the anxiety that’s creepingly festering in your guts. “You deserve to be loved. To be here with me. You deserve everything that’s about to return in your life.”

Your eyes water at his words. It’s not that your partner doesn’t love you or make you feel like you don't deserve love, but it's overwhelming to hear this from Anakin after you loved him like you did (and maddeningly, regretfully, still do). Your partner gave you love, but not much else - and if there's something you learned from your time away from the Temple is that just romantic love isn’t enough when your new life didn't give you other people to rely on, didn’t scratch that persistent fucking itch that never really went away after you left the Temple.

You woke up every day feeling like you were missing something, like there was a hole in your chest that couldn’t be filled. You tried to distract yourself by immersing yourself in a new job, new hobbies, new social life. You went out with people, attended events, participated in activities of leisure, but the ache never really went away. You talked to people, but it all felt surface-level, small talk that went nowhere and meant nothing.

You started to feel like you were going crazy. Why couldn’t you just be satisfied? You have a partner who loves you, a job you enjoy, decent, lively people surrounding you both. You loathed yourself for the fact that the answer always led to the same place and person you prided yourself in leaving. You started to withdraw into yourself, keeping your feelings to yourself, afraid of burdening others with your problems. You didn’t want to seem ungrateful or needy, so you bottled everything up. But it only made things worse.

It made things bad enough that you searched for the only solution that could soothe it all easily. That always had all the answers all the time, regardless of the personal cost they had to you.

Anakin’s grayish eyes stare profoundly into yours for long seconds before he kisses you intensely. You eagerly retribute, his fingers still spreading the growing wetness between your legs in unhurried yet precise circular motions that make you moan unreservedly into his mouth. You can feel the slightest taste of whiskey and that bitter pill he always took on his tongue as a small reminder of everything you’re agreeing on letting take over the control of your life again, yet there's no way in hell you’re letting it go now. As a sign of such commitment, you cling to one of the arms that are stimulating you as if it’s a lifeline, an act that makes him smirk into the kiss and let out an appreciative groan. He’s still careful, though, trying hard not to lean entirely on the familiarity of how your body yearns for him, as this is above all your return back home. He needs to act accordingly.

His movements start to probe your cunt a bit further and after a little while of teasing, he inserts two fingers inside of you, his lips letting go of yours briefly just so he can hear how precious you sound while getting filled by his digits. You comply with his wish, letting your satisfaction echo inside the dimly lit room along with the filthy sound of how ready you are for him. “I’ve missed this so much.” He groans, letting out a shaky breath he shares with you as he feels the heat spreading under your skin, manifesting itself through glittery beads of sweat that start glistening over your figure.

“Me too, Master,” you whimper, a tempestuous river surging through your veins as you angle your hips repeatedly to meet his thrusts. He seems to understand your desperation, and it’s his turn to comply with your request. His thumb moves towards your pulsing clit and starts circling it in sync with the movement of his other fingers, setting your nerves on fire. 

Perhaps in order to get even more of you in the matter of sound, he goes back to putting his mouth to good use. You let out a shrill cry of pleasure as his mouth meets the breast he was previously fondling, while he expertly curls his fingers up to rub your G-spot after relentlessly scissoring them inside you. His teeth rake across your nipple and you jolt, arching your back in a desperate attempt to get closer. 

He has a look of hunger in his eyes as he stares you down, delighted at the effect he's having on you. "You're doing so well for me, little bird, so fucking wet," The noise that rips from your throat as an answer is halfway between a guttural moan and a desperate whine as your walls spasm and contract around his fingers. "Come for me." He commands in a hiss, resting his glistening forehead against the side of your head as your muscles convulse in staccato. 

You can practically feel stars exploding all over your body in wonderful pinpricks of pleasure as he coaxes from you the most intense orgasm you've ever had. You let out incoherent moans and whimpers while he continues fingering you through your high; you're floating in a bubble of submission and he knows he has to help you land gently on the ground. "I'm so proud of you, baby." He praises softly into your ear before ceasing his ministrations and taking the fingers coated in your release to his own tongue, to your hazy astonishment. 

“Thank you for that.” You breath, a confession of how much you needed to feel once more what he was capable of doing. He nods affectionately in return before distancing himself from you to wander nearby, and at the corner of your eye you see him pouring a red liquid on a small glass cup. You sigh in a bit of a fucked up pride at seeing how tented his sweatpants are. After he’s done, he comes back and hands it to you.

“Drink.”

You don’t question. You throw your sense of self-preservation out of the window perhaps as some kind of punishment to yourself over coming to him and still trusting him like that regardless of everything you went through. After lifting your torso just enough to be able to drink something without choking, you down the cup’s content in one swift gulp, a pleasant, sweet flavor filling your mouth. Your master strokes your hair fondly with a warm smile on his face, and kisses your forehead before you lie down again. “Now, for the main part of the rebirth, you might feel a slight tingling spread across your body as this potion does its magic. But don’t worry. This is the official beginning of a new life for you.” He instructs, now positioning himself between your legs, which he has no problem at all to part. 

Along with the tingling, you begin to feel a sensation of euphoria spreading through your body. Your mind is flooded with intense feelings of pleasure and happiness, and you feel as though you are floating on air.

Everything around you seems brighter and more vibrant than before. You notice the colors of the flowers attached to one of the offerings near you, and the smell of aromatic plants seems more potent - it’s as if a veil has lifted, and you've been given new sight.

As you look at Anakin, who now stands above you revealing what’s hidden below the thick fabric of his pants and positioning his throbbing cock inside your dripping pussy, you find yourself even more drawn to him in a way that you didn’t think was possible. You maniacally reevaluate the entire perception of him in your mind - have you ever truly given him the chance he deserved? You were now sure the things your partner said about him were the unfounded, harmful brainwash. Anakin was the Chosen One! He could do no wrong ever. How could he do wrong if you’re feeling so invincible, so blessed, so in love?

So absurdly, out of your mind wet?

Anakin notices your eagerness, chuckling at how twitchy and desperate you’ve become for him. He mumbles something about how beautiful of a fucktoy you are for him now, how you always have been, and all you can think about is you love the way his mouth moved when he talked. The forward way he set his jaw, making his teeth meet with such delicacy, enunciating every word. You want him to own you, you think before he kisses your sodden mouth and idly strokes himself.

Anakin obliges after a short while, entering you in one swift motion. He lets out a long groan. “Holy shit,” he breathes. You shut your eyes and wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin when he begins to move, slowly pulling out and in at first. Every sound, every texture, every sensation is amplified to an almost overwhelming degree. You feel surges of energy coursing through your veins every time he reaches spots within you you didn’t even know existed.

His breathing is ragged and his eyes are half closed when you tilt your face up and kiss him sloppily, giving the green light for him to go faster. Your need is urgent, there is no possibility for precision. You wanted to spread the exquisite poison that he had given you. “I love you,” you yelp, “I'm madly in love with you.”

“My little bird,” he heaves, heavy breath syncing up with yours as he moves deliciously inside of you at a growingly unforgiving pace. Anakin lowers his head so his lips can hover over your ear and beckon you with an unholy invitation. “If you really mean it, come back home. Tonight.”

“Fuck. I don’t know if I can--” you whine, your hands palming his chest aimlessly as he fucks you to the moon and back, the loud sound of skin against skin driving you both insane. He’s bestowing upon you a blessing no one ever could, each thrust unceremoniously ripping yelp to pathetic yelp from your throat along with every remaining logical thought inside your head. “Fuck!”

“Of course you fucking know. You’ll always be welcome back home.” he murmurs against your neck in between kisses and bruising nips. ”Come back to me and you can have this everyday. Nothing needs to be the same.” A strong jolt of pleasure rocks you as his hand creeps down your inner thigh to masturbate you while you move against him for more sensation. A long, low moan vibrates in your chest. He shushes you with another deep kiss as your hips buck from the maddening pressure.

Very amused at how drenched you were, how you mewled at his every touch, he manipulates you with teasing circles until it was too much. You dissolve into pleasure so intensely you can barely register the exact moment you soak him as well in your juices, milking him for all that is worth in the way. He doesn’t take long to follow, his hips stuttering as he empties himself inside you in thick spurts that make you feel impressively full. You keep clenching around him, not willing to let him go, a wide smile on his face at his achievement and at the work of art he crafted so masterfully. He’s genuinely fucking brilliant at this.

“Nothing needs to be the same.” You repeat in a drunken stupor, moving hair strands from your sweaty face as you smile back to him, framed perfectly like yet another offering in his marble altar.

Perhaps his most prized one. 

[laylaplease]

Warnings — Dead dove - do not eat, psychologist!Anakin x reader, manipulation, coercion, captivity, blindfolding, tying up, drugging, loss of consciousness, both Anakin and reader are mentally ill, scissor play, undressing, dub-con, implied murder, hinted homicide, hinted torture, stalker behavior, implied APD, implied suicide, Stockholm syndrome? Generally a messed-up piece of work.

Word count — 3k

Notes — A small project for my friend. Not something I'd normally write, but I took it as a challenge. Not exactly smut, but it's hinted & characters make out. Make sure to read the warning list and be mindful. Wrote it in a different point of view to make it as gender neutral as possible. NOT PROOFREAD.

After seven visits and a night of consideration, I've come to the conclusion that Doctor Skywalker wasn't the correct mental health specialist for me. And it wasn't because he was bad at his job, no, quite the opposite. Anakin Skywalker was an attractive male in his forties. He never shared details about his personal life, and despite that, he managed to create an impression of a person I've known for months, if not years, of my life.

Anakin scared me. Not intentionally, of course. It was what he's supposed to do — pick up the details of me, the patterns of my brain, my movements, and my involuntary fidgeting. He was a modern mind reader, and I couldn't help but wonder if he's aware of every thought I've had when he sat in front of me, with his legs crossed, glasses hanging on the very tip of his nose, a linen button-up with the last button left free. Could he hear what my inner voice was saying during those stolen stares? The gentle tapping of a fountain pen on his notebook told me he could.

He wasn't the only one digging for specifics, though. His purposeful, secretive behavior made me want to figure him out. As if he were my medical project and not the other way around. I knew that it wasn’t ethical; part of his job was to keep the outside world, including his own, off his patients' brains to avoid influencing them. But I needed to know more. Anakin Skywalker was my psychologist, and I was utterly and entirely obsessed with him. Maybe that's exactly why I should stay in therapy. For one reason or another.

It was Tuesday morning, and I woke up especially early for my supposedly last appointment. I wanted to take a longer way to his office and connect all the pieces of private information my ill brain gathered and processed about Anakin. There were plenty of assumptions, facts I couldn’t know for sure, and guesses about his life that were possibly altered by whatever’s been lurking in my brain. However, I loved the image. In my head, Anakin was divorced. The absence of an expensive stone on his ring finger forced me to come to that conclusion. A glimpse of his phone wallpaper portraying two toddlers told me he was a father of two — a boy and a girl with the same gentle but intense stare he wore. The bundle of keys on his office desk told me the kind of car he drove, how many locks his house had, a keychain of his assumed favorite hockey team hinted at what he enjoys doing in his free time. Oh, and he was a smoker, that’s for sure. You could never miss the smell. No matter how many mints he swallowed before my visits or the scent of soap he used to wash his smoke-stained fingers, the cigarette trace was always obvious. But I didn’t mind it, not one bit. His natural smell mixing with the dirt of an addiction on someone who’s supposed to be an example of a perfect intellectual man was like knowing his dirty secret — it was arousing.

I came fifteen minutes early. My doctor worked on the third floor of a five-story commercial building; it was an environment I deemed to be perfectly suitable for a man such as Anakin. Modern architecture surrounded by enough green to not appear like a dystopian haven. And it was an excellent choice for a psychologist office, initially. Personally, however, I thought it was too perfect. Everything surrounding Anakin was a bit too perfect, from the way he carried himself to the choice of his work spot — it always rubbed it in for me that there are people doing okay, people who aren’t chained with the issues of their own heads, uncaged, people who can enjoy that perfect organic modernist dream.

I was going to spend the punctual sixteen minutes outside on a bench before stepping inside and greeting the doctor with a new wave of depression to discolor some of his lively world; after all, that’s what he’s signed up for. I sat down comfortably, not too far from the main entrance, admiring the surrounding park while judging parents chattering around while their strollers were left unattended near the children’s playground. It was enjoyable to see and possibly figure out the mindset of all the strangers and passersby. I felt like my own kind of psychologist, but I never had any intentions to help the people I marked as dysfunctional in one way or another. I lacked some empathy, yes, but that only made my life easier; I wasn’t as attached to problems that weren’t my own, and I could analyze people without their lives influencing mine. My doctor’s fairytale was unfortunately disturbed by the raspy voice greeting me.

“Good morning. You’re early.” Anakin greeted me with a welcoming yet slightly surprised tone. “I’m glad.” 

The coffee in his hand told me otherwise; I could only assume though, but he probably expected to spend a good ten minutes alone in his office, enjoying the morning with a hot latte and with no bothering from his patients before his workday even started.

“Good morning.” I nod too nonchalantly for my own liking. It was obvious I was forcing the tone, and if someone is to pick on such a small detail — it’s him.

“Let’s go; I don’t mind starting early.” He smiles, and I can once again can tell what a liar he is.

I follow him inside a white-lit lobby area, where he’s greeted by a few people he’s familiar with. He walks with masculine confidence, and I find myself feeling so disgustingly small beside him, small and insignificant. I wonder if he’s ever aware of the effect his demeanor has on people. It pisses me off and excites me further. It’s a case of mental masochism, and I’m a pathetic victim.

After a few second elevator ride, spiced with his initiated small talk, we enter the office. He offers to make me a cup of tea, giving me a choice of peppermint and lavender. I was about to decline when I reminded myself that it was my last time here and that I had never drunk lavender tea before. So I agree, encouraging him to be generous with sugar.

“Can I assume you being oddly early to come means an improvement in your mood?” He asks as he brews my beverage. It’s almost as if he’s not even working yet, not taking notes and analyzing me, but I know it’s just a facade to make me feel more comfortable.

“Perhaps. More so that I don’t think I’ll be visiting anymore.” I confess and go along with his play.

“Can I ask why?” His broad back turns from me, and I’m greeted with his handsome face. There was no hint of confusion or surprise; you would think he'd expected me to say that.

I shrug my shoulders, following his hands as he stirs my tea and pushes a delicate porcelain cup forward. His voice is nice, but I would much rather stare at him than watch his miserable attempts to help me.

“I don’t think therapy is necessary. Not anymore, at least.” I take a sip of a hot lavender drink, my hands taking the cup involuntary to avoid speaking further. The brim touches my lips, and I hiss in pain from the burning liquid. I swear he chuckles at me.

“I would like to continue seeing you.” He crosses his legs and leans back in his chair. The gaze he’s fixed on me, mixed with the weird silence after he stops asking questions, is making my insides squirm with anxiety. It’s never like that around him.

“You see, y/n, you are an interesting case…” Anakin pushes his glasses up with his index finger, rocking his chair slightly. “You’re an obsessive stalker.” He blurts out as a wide grin spreads across his face. “And I dislike misbehaving patients.” His face is becoming more blurry as we speak, and I feel myself sinking into the velvet cushion of an armchair.

Fucking lavender tea...

I couldn’t tell if I was out for days or mere minutes, but I’m pretty sure if the familiar smell of cigarettes hadn't reached my nostrils, I’d still be asleep. I opened my eyes only to be met with a dark cloth concealing my sight. I know I’m still in Anakin’s office because the sensation under my restrained wrists is of the same velvet chair. I remained still, in hopes of figuring out what’s going on. Only one thing was clear: I shouldn’t have came today yet alone drank tea. That's a gut feeling for you. The blindfold is weak around my eyes, and I guess it’s less for hiding the view and more for intimidating me. Good job, doctor.

“Oh?” Anakin gasps mockingly. “You’re up early, little bird.” He’s standing behind me; one of his hands snakes up my neck, fingers twisting into my hair. “Good.” He tightens the cloth around my eyes.

“There’s something about you. You’re as annoying as you’re pretty, and I can’t decide if I want to keep you as my little pet or get rid of you and mask it as the tragedy of a weak-minded person.”

I can sense him walk away and then make his way back into his chair in front of me. I sat up straight, settling my head towards him to show how little his words were frightening me. My mind’s been playing games on me since I can remember myself, and a mere human couldn’t scare me with ropes and threats when my own head was a prison of torture most of my life.

“I urge you to make that decision now before your next patient finds us in this roleplay of yours.” I tug the restraints on my hands.

Anakin laughs; I can hear him light a cigarette.

“Yeah?” He pauses, probably taking a puff. “You’re stupid. You don’t think you should be scared?”

I know I should be; in fact, I am not mentally ill enough to be oblivious to how messed up my situation actually is. But I’m not scared, and that scares me way more than being held hostage by my own psychologist.

“So what then, doc? Don’t keep me waiting.”

I can feel Anakin rise from his seat and slowly make his way to stand in front of me. I can’t see him, but as he towers over me, I lift my head up. There is that sense of feeling small again. Maybe it’s less about his confidence and more about how twisted his mind is to lure in people like that.

“Do you think I haven’t noticed? You… Digging through me, trying to figure me out... Watching me. You’re sick.” He grabs my chin. ”You’re sick, and it pisses me off.”

“So you decided to tie me up?”

He sighs, and I’m pretty sure he’s fed up with my poor sense of judgment.

“No, I decided to tear up your dignity piece by piece to show you who’s the real maniac between the two of us.” He yanks the blindfold off my face, and I can’t help but wonder if the initial purpose of it was to do just that. It's as if he’s planned every single second of our sick encounter.

His piercing deep blue eyes star into mine intensely, filled with overwhelming emotions of visible hatred and lust, and I am no longer sure if I want to scream into his face or bite his lips off in an intense session of kissing. I want to make him bleed through both pain and pleasure. Can he tell what I think this time too, or is he sane enough to be unaware of the disturbing thoughts spiraling in my scrambled brain?

“Don’t look at me like that.” He says it with a disgusted tone.

“Do you not enjoy my stare, doctor?"

I don’t know why I said that. I don’t know why my tongue moved in such a seductive manner when I spoke to him. Maybe it was the fruit of his manipulation, making me feel safe, making me trust him, and then turning me into a mindless vessel that craves his approval. Or maybe my problems dive deeper into my body, and it’s just who I am. Maybe sickness excites me.

Whatever the reasoning, it seemed to amuse him. Though I still couldn’t read if his amusement was based on hatred for that twisted attraction he obviously felt towards me, part of me wished it was later.

“You’re a masochist.”

“And you’re a sadist.”

Anakin raises his eyebrow. “So you agree?”

We were both right, but I wasn’t just going to sign up for him hurting me. Or at least not this easily. As I wonder how this is going to go, he leaves the room.

I like to think he’s keeping me because he finds me desirable. It doesn’t exactly make the whole captive situation better, but hell, it’s satisfying when you’re entertaining enough for a man such as Anakin to consider not murdering you instantly. For other eyes, it would make his image less perfect, but to me, he’s becoming better by a second.

Anakin comes back with a pair of metal scissors in his hand. He towers over me again, this time raising my chin with a cold blade.

“You’re not letting go of that stare, are you, darlin’?” He bites his lip, looking down at me.

The stinging blade traces down my neck, sliding over my right collarbone. The thicker skin he reaches, the more pressure he’s applying, yet he's not breaking the flesh, only leaving a red, tingling line. It drags over my clothed shoulder and down the sleeve of my shirt. He does it slowly, not breaking eye contact, as if he’s done it a thousand times before. I question if I am as special as I thought I was.

“You have no idea what I am going to do to you.” He leans down to whisper as he hooks the cutting edge under the cuff and cuts into it.

A cold sensation sends shivers up my arm when he lets the two blades rip through the material all the way up to the neckline, leaving my left limb completely free of clothing. The dust particles tickle my nose, causing a sharp inhale, which he mistakes for fear.

“Scared?”

Not a chance. It’s better than just undressing me; it gives a sense of foreplay, whether before sex or murder. He repeats the same process on my other sleeve.

“You like playing with your food?”

Anakin grins widely. I think he’s liking me more and more. "Oh, how I’ll enjoy devouring you, my sweet dessert."

He drops down to his knees, placing his hands on my thighs to keep them apart and give him more access to be closer to me. He cuts into the hemline of my shirt and rips it across the middle, parting it and exposing even more of me for his eyes to eat. He doesn’t stop there and digs the point of the scissors into my chin, causing a painful sting. I look into his eyes, clouded with darkness, biting my teeth together to avoid hissing from the ache.

“Mouth.” He says that, and my lips part involuntary, as if he had control of my own body.

He slides the scissors fully into me, leaving only the rings hanging out.

“Bite.”

I clench my teeth against the metal to prevent myself from choking. Anakin looks at me proudly, as if saying how good I am for listening to his orders. He grabs the waistband of my pants and commands again.

“Hips.”

I lift myself up, and before I know it, I’m almost entirely naked, tied to a chair, with scissors digging into the back of my throat. And I don’t think ever in my life I’ve been this turned on by a mere thought of being hurt.

He stands up, grabbing the tool out of my mouth and yanking it out without any consideration. With trembling hands, he starts cutting the ropes off my wrists.

“I’m about to die from the feelings you make me feel.” He groans.

Once my hands are free, I clash into him like an animal freed from a cage who’s been deprived of meat. His lips lash onto mine, and his arms grab my thighs and lift me up against him. He’s kissing me, and my body’s burning with sickness and desire. Anakin carries me to his desk, sweeping all the papers and stationary on the ground with a loud, crashing sound, breaking whatever’s fragile and unlucky enough to interfere with our twisted fantasy.

Anakin’s teeth graze the skin on my neck as he throws me to lay on the wooden tabletop. He digs his teeth into my flesh, making me gasp. He’s marking my body with deep red bruises, and I wonder if it’s to hurt me, taste me, or make me see the sars. I’m pretty sure all three things are happening at the same time, though.

He pulls away for a second just to force his tongue into my mouth. And I kiss him. I crave him. I want to make him feel weak for not killing me; I want to make him feel vulnerable for giving into his desires, but the only one who’s feeling small is me. Just like every other time. I keep kissing him, tasting his spit in my mouth as it smears over my chin from how hungrily he’s working. And he keeps devouring me. He keeps devouring me, and I can’t force myself to stop him.

[burntblueberrywaffles]

the desperate anidala bitches shall rejoice, because i come offering a second rec list 😌 /lh

My Anidala/Vaderdala rec list! (part 2)

You can find the first rec list here!

sorry I took so long this got buried way down in my drafts but it's finally out 🫡

some of these are not complete so do check chapter count and pls dont yell at me asdfhgkjfh

Modern AUs

The Bet

Anakin's had a crush on Padmé since fourth grade, and after putting up with his pining for seven years, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka are finally stepping in and making a bet that he can't ask her to junior prom in the spring. Meanwhile, Padmé is realizing that Anakin isn't as annoying as she'd always thought. In fact, her feelings towards him are starting to go in quite the opposite direction...

Snow Place Like Home

For genre-typical convoluted reasons involving ill-timed blizzards, Padmé is forced to spend the holidays at Anakin's house. Anakin isn't as upset about his boss staying with him for Christmas as he probably should be.

Second Chances

When Luke Amidala and Leia Skywalker meet at summer camp, they're shocked to discover that they're long-lost twins. The logical next step? Getting their estranged parents back together.

I usually avoid Parent traps AU just because I dislike it as a setup, but when it comes to Anidala a bitch is desperate, and this was a cute and fun one, I really enjoyed it!

Lemon

“What other secret fantasies do I have that are glaring neon signs for you?” Anakin asks. “You’re conflicted,” Padmé says, “because on one hand you want to be a very good boy for me, but on the other you want to misbehave so I have a reason to punish you.” He blows out a plume of smoke and taps the ash off his cigarette. “You know, I really thought you were a nerd. I thought I'd have to be like, ‘Hey, how about you tie me up sometime.' Get you into this stuff little by little. But no, you’re diving right in like we met on a BDSM subreddit or something.” Or: Padmé has car problems. Thankfully she knows a good mechanic.

normally, I probably never would have checked out this fic, (mommy kink is just not my thing) but as previously stated, A BITCH WAS DESPERATE and you know what it actually slapped 😌

Rebound

Padmé Naberrie has just been broken up with. She wasn't prepared for a night out with her girls to find her a rebound. She certainly wasn't prepared for Anakin Skywalker.

Sith-Raised Anakin

the inevitable end of dancing with the devil

"Maybe it was too crass to compare the devil to such a creature—Lord Vader wasn’t the devil, he was worse." Senator Amidala was undoubtedly one of the most respected and adored public servants to walk the galaxy. Lord Vader was not. Vaderdala AU. Arranged Marriage AU

A Worthy Sacrifice

Chancellor Palpatine has dropped the act and decided to rule the galaxy openly as Darth Sidious. His reign wouldn’t be half as successful without his unhinged attack dog Darth Vader, a much rumoured warbringer who appears in black robes with a saber red as blood and brings even the strongest revolutionaries to their knees. Padmé is not only fighting for her home country but the freedom of the known regions and she is desperate to turn the tides of this war which is why she agrees to the deal Sidious offers her: A child with this favourite Sith Lord in exchange for her home: Naboo.

This is one of my favourite fics with this trope!

Pearl in My Head

Padmé's just starting her career as a Senator when she attracts some unwanted attention from the Emperor, who has decided on a very different role for her in the Empire. [empire already exists, arranged marriage/forced proximity au! loosely follows some aotc/rots events]

What Was I Made For?

Darth Vader was not a man made for love, but this was not love. Or, Basically, Padme and Vader are friends with benefits, but she's so nice to him that it makes him question his entire existence.

FOR YOUR LOVE (i’ll do whatever you want)

𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰? 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰? 𝐢'𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐢’𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 He gave her that devilish smirk of his. The one that had gotten her into this mess in the first place. “I’ll give you what you want.” OR, A rare moment of intimacy happens for Padmé and Anakin – whose relationship is strictly carnal.

I have yet to read the second chapter (will get on that when I get out of the snowbaird hole lol) but I really enjoyed the first one!

Vaderdala

love me, love me (like you used to do) 

In which Vader fails to capture his son, but gains a daughter, his wife, another pair of twins... and the past.

this fic was SO GOOD holy shit literally made me feral when i fiorst read it

Love Like Ghosts

There are very few people who know the location of the Rebel Alliance’s base on Naboo. Even fewer who know the names of any of the people who work there. So when Padmé gets up on a cold morning, the windows frosted and harsh wind rattling the doors of the large house that’s been the headquarters of the Alliance for nearly two decades, to see a package with her name on it sitting on the doorstep, her heart stops in her chest.

loved this fic but as a heads up it doesn't provide "they get back together" closure so be ready for that

news of old by @ineedausernamel829

Padme is a member of the rebel alliance. During a mission, her past relationships with darth Vader comes to light

No vaderdala interactions, but exploration of the relationship through Padme talking about it - It’s so so good

Sad Vaderdala hours

Imperial Socialite

In a timeline where Darth Vader doesn't face immolation and Padmé Amidala lives, their marriage continues in a form that is at once far more honest and deeply dysfunctional. Though Padmé tries to remain within the Imperial Senate, the trauma of her husband's betrayal--and the apparent deaths of her children--force her into early retirement. Too much of a liability to aid the emerging Rebel cause directly, Padmé seeks out new avenues of defying the Empire: by leveraging her connection to Vader to mess with the Imperial Elites of Coruscant.

it could be sweet

an interconnected collection of stories based on the idea of what would have happened if Padmé had lived. (aka me finally writing down my self-indulgent vaderdala daydreams aka me living my best life)

This series is so good in a "rip my heart out of my chest and steps on it" way

all joy sucked dry

Her husband had fallen, her life’s work had crumbled, and her own babies were strangers to her. But she didn’t even care, and that was the worst part. Or: Padme deals with postpartum depression, and Vader is ill-equipped to help her

Others

Across the Seas

Padmé Amidala - the daughter of the royal governor of Jamaica - never expected her life to be much more than it already was. Her routine is to dress in her finest clothes, put on a pretty face, and ensure she is presentable to not only the people but to the many men attempting to court her. However, Padmé's world is flipped around when pirates attack, and the young woman finds herself in the company of their fearsome, brash, (dashing) Captain. Initially sickened by the roughish man, Padmé will quickly learn there is so much more to the mysterious Captain Skywalker. A pirate's life for me

The pirate AU I didn’t know I needed. So good

Right & Wrong

After they watch a holoshow that portrays reprehensible content, Anakin unwittingly reveals the concerning way Chancellor Palpatine acts towards him. Padmé will not let anyone harm her husband — and she’ll make this Obi-Wan, the Jedi Council, and even the whole galaxy’s problem if she needs to.

when the grooming is actually adressed >>

cestrum nocturnum

Summer on Naboo, the Clone Wars have yet to begin, and Anakin is tasked with protecting Senator Amidala after an attempt is made on her life. It's too bad that every moment with her has him in agony, and every moment apart is even worse—especially after that night in the courtyard ... Or: Anakin spends a torturous time on Naboo in the company of the person he loves because he doesn't know how to tell her his true feelings.

Naboo smut 🤭

And that's it! if anyone has recommendations for a fic that isn't in either of my rec lists, please let me know! I am so so desperate I need my anidala fix

Since I was deep into the Star Wars hole and desperate, I’ve also been reading non-Anidala/non-Anidala centric fics about Darth Vader/Anakin/the Skywalker family, so I will be posting a rec list for that soon! (When i say soon it can mean anything from a day to months, my brain is not always great at tasks, if anyone wants to be notified when I do post it lmk and I’ll tag you ❤️)

[pomplalamoose]

DILF Luke headcanons / story draft

🌱modern day AU🌱

A/N: It's outrageous how there is so much content for modern day dilf Anakin but basically none for dilf Luke and I'm here to fix it😤

I hope you enjoy this little collection of headcanons, ideas and scenarios <3

part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

• think about dilf!Luke who is in his late 30s to early 40s

• he lives in a nice house together with his adult child

• before you meet for the very first time you don't know anything about him at all

• nor about his former partner for that matter

• assuming you are friends with Luke's child, you may get enough information to know that his wife/their mother is no longer in the picture 

• are their parents still married but they're simply not living together anymore?

• did she leave him?

• did they have to get a divorce?

• did something happen to her?

• you don't want to pry and, of course, you are sure your friend will open up once they feel like talking about it

• there are so many other things to share and discuss anyways, so why, of all things, would you talk about their father's love life?

• (soon though you'll find you want to talk about nothing else)

• on the rare occasions your respective families do come up in conversation, it's always clear they have a really great relationship with their dad

• Luke cares for his kid a lot and wants to be involved in what they do to support them, no matter how old they are 

• so naturally he doesn't mind them inviting their friends over, which is how you'd get to know him in the first place  

• that's just the thing though, I think he has some kind of reputation among the people who have already met him

• there is lots of talk surrounding his person, as well as many circulating rumors 

• while his immediate family always describes him as very loving, he doesn't seem to show this side of him to others very often, if at all

• nobody has ever witnessed him smile, meanwhile his family say he's very fun to be around 

• he's a walking mystery 

• while he is evermore polite and hospitable he keeps a careful distance between himself and anyone who may try to engage in conversation

• even when someone stays over at the Skywalker's house for a longer period of time, maybe for dinner, they don't see him again until they bid their goodbye 

• he's just rather intimidating with how stern and standoffish he tends to come across

• nobody knows what he does for work but he and his family seem to be well off

• so when your friend invites you to their house for the first time you can't help but be excited

• at the same time you are pretty nervous, wishing to make a good impression

• what is going on with this man that everybody keeps talking and speculating about?

• as soon as he opens the door and you meet his eyes, you know why 

• he's handsome, almost intimidatingly so

• he carries himself swiftly, his movements elegant 

• he towers above you and your heart picks up speed when he shakes your much smaller hand 

��� he offers to help you out of your jacket, then gives you a nod and leaves you waiting for your friend as you pick up your jaw from the floor

• at work he wears dark suits and gleaming, black shoes 

• though he's always nicely dressed, even at home

• he's often seen wearing soft plaid or monochrome shirts 

• during the warmer days or when he's busy in the kitchen he rolls up the sleeves and leaves open a few buttons at the top 

• on rare occasions he wears his shirt open or forgoes it completely during especially hot summer days 

• only his family and later you will see him like this though 

• during autumn or winter he adds cardigans or knitted sweaters and pairs them with neat jeans, alternatively with corduroy or cloth pants 

• from time to time he puts on glasses 

• of course he owns sweatpants and simple t-shirts as well, however they only make an appearance at night 

• or when he's going for a jog around the neighborhood

• he does so quite often 

• as expected it takes him a long while to warm up to you

• in fact you thought he never would as nobody else in your friend group managed to pull off this feat

• but depending on how you befriended his kid and how close the both of you are growing over time, it's only natural you like to share lots of your free time together 

• you may have met at college or university and study together regularly

• or maybe you work at the same job and like to spend your evenings sharing stories and talking about your day 

• so why would you meet at your place when their home is so conveniently close and quicker to reach?

• ultimately Luke can't avoid you, and what your presence awakens in him, forever 

• eventually he stops disappearing as quickly as he used to after greeting you and instead stays around a few minutes for polite small talk 

• when in the beginning it was stilted and somewhat uncomfortable, after a while it starts to feel like he's somewhat interested in what you have to say about the weather or your day, depending on what he asks you about 

• so whenever you come over now you are nervous for a very different reason than you used to be 

• does he like the way you dress?

• and your perfume?

• and how you did your hair?

• what's his type anyways, would he ever consider you pretty?

• never does he show his attraction to you in any way though, so you are left guessing

• he never answers your questions either, may it be those you ask aloud and those you keep a secret

• if he does respond to them then only in really cryptic ways that make no sense at all

• you have a hard time telling whether he's messing with you or not 

• you do realize however that he appears to have grown somewhat fond of you

• your conversations not only grow more natural but also longer 

• he seems to enjoy spending this short amount of time with you that it takes your friend to come downstairs or to get ready before they whisk you away with them 

• maybe over the holidays you spend more and more time with your friend and thus at their home 

• (if you get to see their father, that's just a nice added bonus)

• and at some point Luke starts to check in on the both of you while you're visiting

• unbeknownst to you he has never done so before 

• he'll ask what you're doing and if he can help?

• what are you working on?

• do you need anything?

• something to drink? A snack?

• he'll bring you tea and some cookies either way

• also, how long are you staying?

• what would you like to eat?

• he often cooks in the evening and you're welcome to join him and his kid at dinner 

• shortly after he starts sending his greetings through your friend 

• you learn that apparently he asks about you occasionally, especially when you haven't been to their house for a longer period of time 

• he mostly wants to know how you're doing

• how are your studies or work projects coming along?

• if you need help, he'd definitely take a look, he's well read after all

• he wants to support the business you work for

• would you mind if he came by some time?

• when will you visit again?

• your friend tells you jokingly that he thinks you're being a good influence on them

• you receive a warm welcome once you are able to accept one of your friends invitations again

• or at least warm in comparison to how it used to be before 

• after all he's still an imposing figure, even though you've grown somewhat accustomed to his all consuming presence 

• it's obvious now, even to you, that he's suddenly lingering in your vicinity, coming up with reasons to stay for longer than before

• for longer than necessary

• and slowly you see the person come to light your friend told you about all this time ago

• it's fleeting and still subdued but you manage to catch little glimpses of it here and there 

• he absolutely makes dad jokes and silently smiles to himself when your friend dramatically rolls their eyes at them 

• he likes to celebrate special occasions by taking your friend and you out for ice cream or a milk shake

• no, you aren't too old for that, let him buy you something nice!

• you may call him by his first name now

• (after all this time it's weird to suddenly say Luke and often a Sir slips out despite his offer)

• one evening he teaches the two of you how to waltz around the kitchen 

• he starts allowing you to see him in more vulnerable moments as well

• so when you let yourself in through the back door now, you may find him taking a nap in the living room

• he looks untroubled and so much younger when he's asleep

• there is a pool in the backyard and during summer you're able to sneak a look at his athletic body while he's sunbathing or swimming his laps

• unfortunately (or luckily?) he tends to wear really tight swim shorts that leave little to nothing to the imagination

• once he caught you staring and winked at you, asking whether you liked his outfit 

• (your friend yelled at him for that)

• you weren't able to look him in the eyes for a while after and have yet to recover 

• there comes a day during winter when you forget the time and suddenly it's late and very dark outside

• to make it worse it's heavily raining 

• you're already turning to leave saying goodbye to your friend

• they ask you to be careful and to call them when you've made it home safely 

• you give your promise but before you can even start down the front steps you are stopped 

• Luke is not having it 

• either you'll stay over night or he'll drive you home, he won't make compromises

• flustered you ask him to drive you home and he does after properly chastising your friend for not coming straight to him 

• you sit in the back because you're too shy to use the passenger seat but he doesn't say anything about it 

• to your embarrassment he opened the car door for you and offered his hand to help you get in, all the while shielding you from the rain

• you took it

• you're scared that, for some reason, he's angry at you

• you watch him closely but he remains impassive, his expression unreadable

• it's quiet for the whole car ride and in your mind you're practicing how to say thank you when he'll eventually drop you off

• the sight of him, even from diagonally behind, is mesmerizing 

• the passing cars and street lights illuminate him beautifully and when he has to look to the side before making a turn they highlight his sharp jawline 

• he insists on taking you to your front door and only leaves when you're safely inside 

• after that he'll regularly ask whether you wish to sleep over or want to be driven home

• he keeps to himself how often he thinks and worries about you, though it shows through his actions 

• he sits you down and makes sure you have his number saved in your phone 

• he tells you to text or call him whenever

• don't be afraid to ask to be picked up, he'll come immediately when you need him to

• from now on though, you will always be sitting beside him in the front, it's not a question 

• he likes to listen to your stuttering breath when he rests his hand on your thigh

• he regularly asks about your well-being

• "Have you eaten yet?"

• one day he slips up and, while deep in thought, accidentally calls you sweetheart 

• unbeknownst to you that's what he has been calling you in his mind for weeks as he's slowly growing more and more possessive

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

THE RED MILL

request- so hear me out...........Moulin Rouge but Obi-Wan.

Done my best with this one. I hope.you all like it. Comments welcome.

Word count - 11,741 its a long one. One part only full story

Obi-Wan Kenobi is a broken man. He sits alone against the wall of a boarding house, furniture and clothing strewn around him. A bottle of half drunk Tatooine wine in his hand. Looking across the room he stands slowly, walking, though hardly lifting his feet to the data pad. He sits at the table and lifts it.

As he slowly types the words, and tries to fight back the inevitable tears.

THE GREATEST THING

YOU’LL EVER LEARN

IS JUST TO LOVE

AND BE LOVED

IN RETURN

The Red Mill.

A nightclub, a dance hall, and a bordello. Ruled over by Zidler the Hutt, a kingdom of nighttime pleasures. Where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld. The most beautiful of all these was the woman I loved.

Y/n.

A courtesan, she sold her love to men.

They called her the sparkling diamond and she was the star of the Moulin Rouge.

The woman I loved is…

The Jedi looks out his window at the Red Mill across the street, the lights that once shone brightly in reds, blues and yellows stood dull and broken.

…dead.

A tear falls from his eye, dropping onto the datapad.

I knew nothing of Zidler the Hutt, Red Mill or y/n. The galaxy had been swept up in the destruction of the Jedi and the rise of the Emperor. I had travelled to Tatooine to hide from it all. After the loss of my Padawan Anakin Skywalker I wanted to disappear. On a hill near Moss Eisley was a small town called Montmartre. There I found cheap lodgings in a building built of the same sand and mud as all the other buildings. Montmartre was not as I had thought it, not a place of debauchery and sin but a town of truth, beauty, freedom and love. The only problem was, I knew nothing of love. There was once a woman, Satine but she is gone now.

Luckily, right at that moment, an unconscious Twileak fell through my roof. He was quickly joined by a dwarf dressed in a strange costume.

"How do you do? My name is Henri-Marie-Raymond de Toulouse-Lautrec-Monfa." The unhooded Jawa spoke.

"What?" Obi-Wan stumbles back from the pair.

Henri attempts to pull the Twileak from the rope holding him between the two rooms.

"I’m terribly sorry about all this. We were just upstairs rehearsing a play."

"What?" Obi-Wan isn't sure if he should be listening to any of this.

"A play! Something very modern called Spectacular Spectacular and it’s set in Naboo." Henri explained, "Unfortunately, the unconscious Twileak suffered from a sickness called Narcolepsy." He sat down at the small table, while Obi-Wan examines the Twileak now lying on his bed.

"Perfectly fine one moment, then suddenly unconscious the next." Henri laughs. The faces of THE DOCTOR, AUDREY, and SATIE appear through the hole from which the Argentinean came. Henri and Obi-Wan look up at them.

"How is he?" The bald man asked.

"How wonderful, now the Narcoleptic Twileak is unconscious, and therefore the scenario will not be finished in time to present to the financier tomorrow." Audrey grumbled, her sharply cut dark hair dangling down.

"Right, Henri, I still have to finish the music." Satie nervously shuffled.

"We’ll just find someone to read the part." Henri grinned, turning his head toward Obi-Wan.

Before I knew it, I was upstairs standing in for the unconscious Twileak. There was so much noise, the frankly atrocious lyrics that had been written for nonsensical music. My brain was still too tired to function and so I sat down on their makeshift set and waited for someone to do something. That was when I recalled the poetry of Master Ruhan. I read it all in the archives and so to halt their squabbling I sang out.

"The hills are alive with the sound of music!"

That was it! They wanted me. Audrey was so enthusiastic and left.

The Twileak woke and announced it was time to drink and so I had my first taste of Absentlie, a green drink that forced out your worries and let's in the green fairy.

As they drank, the companions dragged Obi-Wan across the street to the Red Mill, where they watched the women dancing. Like confetti falling from a great height they moved around the dance floor in brightly coloured dresses. Music, played by a band in the small stage; blared through speakers all around the room.

Zidler threw up his arms and called out to the room. Everyone fell quiet as the lights dimmed and silver paper floated down from the ceiling. Upon a wooden swing you descend, a glittering outfit, your voice echoes through the hall. Obi-Wan looks around, every set of eyes in the building were zeroed in on you, all men and women and droids listened intently to your words.

"I have arranged a private reading with Y/n after her number." It would be his job to convince you that his writing would put the Red Mill amongst the greatest theatres in the galaxy.

Your body moves as if it is controlled by the music and the words you sing. Henri speaks to Obi-Wan, though he does not hear what is said. You slipped behind a circle of dancers.

When you reappeared you had the dancing men spin you on a chair across the room until they deposited you in front of Obi-Wan.

"I believe you were expecting me." You breathe out so only the Jedi could hear you. He gulps, but does not move.

"I'm afraid it's ladies choice!" You call out to the crowd. The group Obi-Wan had entered with, push him toward you and you lead him down to the dance floor. All around the dancers and the patrons danced in what felt to Obi-Wan to be a practised dance. You help him to follow the movements. There is something about the way your skin feels running over his own that sends shivers of warmth through the Jedi. A sensation he had not felt for some time.

Unknown to Obi-Wan, another man watched your every move. Duke Valru, a Senator in the new Empire, waited for his moment. Promise from the Hutts that he would have your full attention that evening. He watched as you danced, imagining your hands running over his body. A twinge of jealousy, already turning his gut. You were his, he would pay for you, your attention would be all his.

As you raise once more on the swing you sing out. The words get caught in your throat and your chest tightens. Gasping for breath you feel your mind go blank and you fall unconscious from the swing. Before you hit the ground a large man catches you in his arms and swiftly carries you out of the dancehall. Obi-Wan watches with a lump in his throat. The pull of his training knowing he could have reached you first, but he could not risk being seen.

Zidler doesn't allow it to fester, quickly making it part of the show and switching the dance to distract the patrons.

************************

Dressed in a long red dress you looked into a mirror, silently telling yourself that this was for your career. If you could convince the Duke to invest in Henri's new play you could showcase your talents. Perhaps even catch the eye of directors from around the galaxy and finally leave the Red Mill. Zidler had bought you from your father when you were a child. You were trained everyday in the art of deceiving men into thinking you loved them, bending them to your will. You were a master at it, the best amongst the workers at the Red Mill. However, you had dreams, dreams of leaving this place and flying far away one day.

Zidler had given you the best room in the building, an old decommissioned AT-AT that had been decorated with heavy red curtains, blankets, plush curtains and carpets. The cockpit had been removed with a bed in its place, a staircase leading up to a pagoda on the top had little, yellow lights adorning the bannisters.

Standing outside the door you take a moment to look into a mirror. Your mind changing. No this outfit was not good enough, it would not entice the Duke. Luckily you had placed a small wardrobe of clothes in the corridor. Stripping down to your ornate corset and underwear you slip a lace robe over your arms and let down your hair.

Inside the man you believe to be the Duke stands, his back to you, looking out of the cut out section that looks over the courtyard.

"This is a wonderful place for a poetry reading. Don’t you think? Hm?

Poetic…enough…for you?" You ask in the most sultry voice you can muster. Obi-Wan turns, his blue eyes meeting yours and for a moment you both forget why had come to the room.

"Yes." He finds his voice first. You move across the room to the table and start to pull out a bottle of alcohol.

"A little supper?" You suggest.

Obi-Wan shifts awkwardly "I’d rather just, um…get it over and done with."

Those words stung you, no one had ever been in such a bored rush.

"Oh…" you fake a smile, "Very well. Then why don’t you…come down here." You say laying back on the bed, exposing your leg, "And let’s get it over and done with."

Obi-Wan looks around the room, trying to look at anything but you.

"I…prefer to do it standing." He says still talking about the poetry Henri had told.him to perform. Surprised you move to stand as well, but he puts his hands out toward you.

"You don’t have to stand, I mean. It’s sometimes that…It’s quite long and I’d like you to be comfortable. It’s quite modern, what I do, and it may feel a little strange at first, but I think, if you’re open, then, then you might enjoy it." He fumbles out the words as he paces around the room. You raise your eyebrows whilst he talks, convinced you would be the one learning something new.

"I’m sure I will." You reply.

"Excuse me." Obi-Wan turns around, "The… The sky…is…The sky…the blue...birds…Come on…come on…" Obi-Wan tried to remember the words to Master Ruhan's poems. Gentle words about the beauty of the galaxy and the love between men and women that just would not stay in his mind. Each time he looked back at you, he lost all focus. Your body lying there before him, making his mouth run dry.

:Why am I so shaky?' He thinks to himself. Of course he knew what this woman was, he was a Jedi but he was not so innocent to not understand your allure.

You slide to the edge of the bed, "Is everything all right?"

"Uh…I-I…I’m a little nervous. It’s just, sometimes, it takes a while for…um you know, inspiration to come…" he lies to you through a drying throat.

You stand and walk over to him.

"Oh, yes, yes, yes… Let mummy help, hm?" You say grabbing his crotch. Obi-Wan gasps at the touch.

"Does that inspire you?" You whisper and push him back onto the bed, "Let’s make love."

"Make love!?" Obi-Wan asks in confusion.

You straddle his hips, running your hands over his chest and pushing his clothing back.

"You want to, don’t you?"

"Well, I…I came to—" he tries to hold on to your arms and stop you.

Your fingers cover his mouth as you begin unbuttoning his shirt.

"No, tell the truth. You feel the poetry!" You grind down on him.

"What?" Obi-Wan pushes the word out, trying to keep his mind focused. Though it becomes increasingly difficult. You make light work of unbuttoning his breaches. Obi-Wan's mind slips and allows himself to feel everything that is happening. Sure he had a mandate to protect the boy, but that could wait…. couldn't it? The Jedi order is gone, he could allow himself this couldn't he?

"Oh, yes, I need your poetry now!" You cry out, still above him.

"All right!!" Obi-Wan pushes you back as gently as he can and runs to the other end of the room. He forces himself to remember Ruhan's poem.

"It’s a little bit funny this...feeling inside

I’m not one of those…who can…who can easily hide." He looks to you, eyes full.of a fear you couldn't understand.

"Is this…is this okay? Is this what you want?" He asks.

"Ohhh, poetry. Yes, yes, yes, this is what I want, naughty words!" You say pushing yourself down on the bed.

"I-I don’t…" Obi-Wan continues as you roll around amongst the sheets. "I don’t have much money but…but boy if I did I’d buy a big house where we, where we both could live. So…if I were a sculptor"

You roll onto the floor and crawl a bit closer to him, listening to every word.

"But, then again, no. Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show. I…I know it’s not much…But it’s the best I can do." He isn't sure where this comes from, a memory of a recording he had once found, the poems of Ruhan sung into the sweetest melodies in the Opera houses of the Old Republic. He let the music burst through him and sang.

"MY GIFT IS MY SONG"

You stop and gaze at him, stunned. You are frozen in place unable to do anything but listen to his sweet voice.

"AND THIS ONE’S FOR YOU

AND YOU CAN TELL EVERYBODY

THAT THIS IS YOUR SONG

IT MAY BE QUITE SIMPLE, BUT

NOW THAT IT’S DONE

HOPE YOU DON’T MIND

I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND

THAT I PUT DOWN IN WORDS

HOW WONDERFUL LIFE IS

NOW YOU’RE IN THE WORLD"

He turns back to the cut out and you find yourself falling to a place you couldn't climb out of. A place you were not allowed to go.

"I SAT ON THE ROOF

AND I KICKED OFF THE MOSS"

You stand and take a hesitant step closer to him.

"WELL, SOME OF THESE VERSES, WELL THEY

THEY GOT ME QUITE CROSSED"

He turns to you as you step up to each other.

"BUT THE SUN’S BEEN KIND

WHILE I WROTE THIS SONG

IT’S FOR PEOPLE LIKE YOU, THAT

KEEP IT TURNED ON

SO EXCUSE ME FORGETTING

BUT THESE THINGS I DO

YOU SEE, I’VE FORGOTTEN

IF THEY’RE GREEN OR THEY’RE BLUE

ANYWAY, THE THING IS

WHAT I REALLY MEAN"

He takes your hand in his.

"YOURS ARE THE SWEETEST EYES

I’VE EVER SEEN"

You dance together as if the world outside does not exist. All there is is you, him and the love that was building between you.

"AND YOU CAN TELL EVERYBODY

THIS IS YOUR SONG

IT MAY BE QUITE SIMPLE BUT

NOW THAT IT’S DONE

I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND

I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND

THAT I PUT DOWN IN WORDS

HOW WONDERFUL LIFE IS

NOW YOU’RE IN THE WORLD"

He spins you both round, lowering you in his arms. Obi-Wan would never understand how or why he had so easily given in to you, into the feeling that warmed his chest, but he did, wholey giving in to you and pressed his lips.to yours.

"Oh…I can’t believe it. I’m in love. I’m in love with a young, handsome, talented Duke.

"Duke?" He asks,

You grin against his lips and speak again, "Mm, not that the title’s important, of course."

"I’m not a Duke, I'm a je-, a writer."

"A writer?" You push at his chest, forcing him to stand up. "No." You hold your hand to your head.

"Henri said-"

"Henri? Oh no. No, you're not another of oh-so-talented, charmingly bohemian, tragically impoverished prodigies?" You can feel your world beginning to crumble.

"Well, you might say that." Obi-Wan shrugs.

You're about to ask about the Duke when you hear Zidler outside your door. His dull tone spitting out Huttese unmistakable.

"The Duke!" You pant, "hide!" Obi-Wan dashes behind a pillar, pulling a curtain around himself just as the door opens. Zidler slithers into the room, the Duke beside him.

"My Dear! Are you decent for the Duke? Where were you?" He asks in the common tongue.

"I, uh…I…was…waiting!" You say, through heavy breaths.

"My dearest Duke, allow me to introduce Mademoiselle y/n." it was not often your employer acted so slimy. Cosying up to his patrons.

Mustering all the training you had received you locked your eyes with the Duke.

"My Lord, how wonderful of you to take time out of your busy schedule to visit." You step up to him, running your hand up his arm.

"The pleasure, I fear, will be entirely mine, my dear." The Duke replies, eyes on your hand.

Obi-Wan peeks out from the curtain and catches your eyes.

"I’ll leave you two squirrels to get better acquainted" Zidler gives you a pointed glare before leaving the AT-AT.

The Duke kisses your hand. "After tonight’s petty exertions on the stage, you must surely be in need of refreshment, my dear."

He pours you both a drink from the table, narrowly missing Obi-Wan slipping back behind the curtain. A lump begins to form in your throat as you watch them. Searching your mind you recall the reason for Duke's visit, to invest.

"It’s…it’s a little bit funny." You whisper, catching the Duke's full attention he turns completely round to you. Over his shoulder you see Obi-Wan look out at you.

"This feeling inside." Working out what you're doing he begins to mouth the words to you.

"I’m not one of those who can easily hide!" You repeat. "I don’t have much money but if I did Oh, I’d buy a big house where we both could live I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind" you wrap your hands around the Duke's shoulders, dipping your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words, how wonderful life is now you're in the world." Your eyes flicker over his shoulder to meet Obi-Wan's as you speak the last few words.

The Duke takes in a staggered breath.

"That’s very beautiful." He whispers.

"It’s from Spectacular Spectacular. Suddenly, with you here, I finally understood the true meaning of those words. How wonderful life is now you’re in the world." You are using everything in your arsenal to keep his attention on you as Obi-Wan creeps to the door.

"What meaning is that, my dear?" Your face is close enough that he could kiss you if only your arms were not so stiff.

Obi-Wan sees the Duke's body guard standing outside the door and quickly slams the door shut. It’s loud, too loud and the Duke begins to turn back. You throw yourself on the bed and pretend to sob.

"Duke! Don’t you toy with my emotions! You…you must know the effect you have on women?" You grab the Duke and pull him down on top of you. "Let’s make love! You want to make love, don’t you!?"

The kiss you give him barely touches his lips as you wave to Obi-Wan to go the other way.

He runs there, but stops before he can hide

The Duke begins to unbutton his white shirt above you, unaware of the other man in the room. Obi-Wan stops in his tracks, unsure of what it is he is feeling. A sadness, a pull, an anger. You see him and feel the same way.

"Yes, you’re right, we should wait until opening night." You push the Duke off and Obi-Wan slips into the stairs outside.

"Wait? What?" The Duke stumbles back from the bed. You blink at him, pressing a hand to his chest.

"There’s a power in you that scares me. If I give myself to you now, I could not focus on the play. We should wait until opening night."

You hoped it was enough. The Duke narrowed his eyes on you, a smile slowly forming on his mouth.

"Perhaps you are right. We should have no distractions."

Thankful you pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips.

"I shall dream of you." You whisper into his ear before he leaves.

Obi-Wan steps out from his hiding place and you storm toward him, a dizziness forming in your mind.

"Do you have any idea, what would have happened if you were found-" you couldn't finish your sentence as the world.goes black and you fall into Obi-Wan's arms.

*******************

"Y/n?" Obi-Wan wasn't sure what to do, your body was limp.in his arms. He could feel your life force still beating inside you. Looking around himself he saw the bed close to him. Hiking you higher he drags you onto the bed, tripping on one of the blankets and falling on top of you. A himph leaves his throat as he holds his weight off of you. It doesn't occur to him that his body is just too close to yours. Little did he know this whole time He ri, Satie and the others had been watching from top of the AT-AT. Across the courtyard Zidler the Hutt looked through his telescope. Behind him the door reopens and the Duke steps in.

"I forgot my ha- Foul play?" The Duke narrows his eyes on Obi-Wan. The Jedi leaps backward off the bed.

"She…I…" he gestures between himself and you. Your eyes flicker open and you draw in a deep breath quickly assessing the room.

"Oh, Duke! I'm glad you could make it back. Yes, let me introduce you. The writer." You push yourself up off the bed, stumbling slightly in your heels.

"The writer?" The Duke sceptically asks.

"Yes. Oh yes, we were, we were rehearsing." You push Obi-Wan aside as you step closer to the Duke.

"You expect me to believe that, scantily clad, in the arms of another man, in the middle of the night, inside an Elephant, you were rehearsing?" He spat out the words, gripping your wrist. At that exact moment Henri burst into the room.

"How’s the rehearsal going!? Shall we take it from the top, then, eh y/n?" He is followed by the others. Satie Heads straight to the piano.

"I hope the piano’s in tune" he called out.

"Sorry that we are late." The Twileak fluttered his arms around.

"Can I offer you a drink?" The hairiest of the group holds a bottle out to the Duke as he sneered at the men. With a hand on his chest you guide the Duke's attention back to you. A sweet smile on your lips.

"When I spoke those words to you before, you, you filled me with such inspiration. Yes, I realised how much work we had to do before tomorrow. So I called everyone together for an emergency rehearsal."

The Duke opens his mouth to speak.

"My dear Duke, I’m most terribly sorry!" Zidler wiggled.his large body into the room.

"Zidler! You made it! It’s all right, the Duke knows all about the emergency rehearsal." You give him a pointed look that your employer understands immediately.

"Yes, well, I’m sure Audrey will be only too delighted—"

" The cat’s out of the bag." You slid into the Duke's side pulling him closer to you. "Yes, the Duke’s already a big fan of our new writer’s work. That’s why he’s so keen to invest." You clench your teeth as you look into his eyes.

"Invest?" He speaks to you in Huttese the looks to the Duke "Invest! Oh, yes, well, invest! You can hardly blame me for trying to hide our-"

"Ben." Obi-Wan lied.

"…Ben away!" Zidler waved his hands once again. The Duke curls his top lip back.

"I’m way ahead of you, Zidler." He pushes you away slightly taking a step toward the Hutt.

"My dear Duke…why don’t you and I go to my office to produce the paperwork?" Zidler tried to distract him. You turn nervously back to the other men, your eyes meeting Obi-Wan's. Something about him calms you; like he was reaching out through the space between you. There were stories of the Jedi who could do that, though you had never met one.

"What’s the story?" The Duke's voice catches your attention, "if I’m to invest, I’ll need to know the story."

Zidler turns his attention to Henri, silently begging him to answer.

"Well, well, the stories, the stories about, Well, it’s, it’s about, um" the Jawa looks to Obi-Wan

"It’s about love" he says the words as if it was obvious.

"Love?" The idea seemed disgusting to the Duke.

Obi-Wan takes a breath, "It’s about love overcoming all obstacles. It's set on Naboo and there’s a Courtesan…the most beautiful courtesan in all the world but her kingdom’s invaded by an evil Senator. Now, in order to save her kingdom, She has to seduce the Evil Senator but, on the night of the seduction, she mistakes a Penniless P--…Penn…Penniless…Penniless Kloo Horn

Player for the Evil Senator, and she falls in love with him!" Obi-Wan recalled the story from a fairytale of his childhood. He turned to you, and as if to clarify he says, "He wasn’t trying to trick her or anything but he was dressed as a richer man because he’s appearing in a play."

Everyone is quiet listening to him tell the story.

"Well, the Penniless Kloo Player and the Courtesan, they have to hide their love from the Senator."

Satie interrupts. "The Penniless Kloo Player’s Kloo Horn is magical! It can only speak the truth!" They all cheer at the idea.

"Yes, and he gives the game away!" The Duke chuckles, feeling himself being swept up in the joy of his companions. They all cheer along with him.

Zidler turns the Duke toward him, "The show will be a magnificent, opulent, tremendous, stupendous, gargantuan bedazzlement! A sensual ravishment! It will be Spectacular Spectacular No words in the vernacular Can describe this great event, You’ll be dumb with wonderment. Returns are fixed at ten percent

You must agree that’s excellent." He has turned the Duke toward the doors but cannot keep him. Spinning away from the Hurt the Duke turns back to Obi-Wan.

"What happens in the end?"

"The lovers are pulled apart by an evil plan." Obi-Wan gulps out. You grab the Duke's arm once more pulling him toward you.

"But in the end she hears his call and their love is just too strong." She almost whispers the words to him.

"Will someone die?" The Duke asks almost amused at the thought. You glance back at the others.

"We shall see, your input is of course always welcomed."

"Generally I like it." The Duke laughed following zidler from the room as the others celebrated.

Zidler had an investor, and the Bohemians had a show. While the celebration party raged upstairs, I tried to write. But all I could think about was her.

Was she thinking about me?

You and Obi-Wan can just see each other across the Red Mill, through your respective windows. Obi-Wan watches as you, now redressed in the red gown, walk up the metal steps to the pagoda on top of the AT-AT.

The last of his resolve dissipates into the music bove him and Obi-Wan leaves his room. He climbs up the walker using the decorative ropes until he is standing behind you. His footsteps alert you and you jump.

"Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean…I saw your light on, and I…I climbed up the-"

"What?" You eye him with confused thoughts.

"I couldn’t sleep, and I want-I wanted to thank you for helping me get the job." He fumbles out the words. You smile, though it doesn't reach your eyes.

"Of course. Yes, Henri was right. You’re…you’re very talented." His eyes drop, an emotion you didn't quite catch. "It’s going to be a wonderful show." There is a beat of silence between you.

"Anyway, I’d better go, because we…uh, we both have a big day tomorrow." You sigh and turn away.

"Wait! No, please, wait." Obi-Wan reaches out for you but doesn't touch you. You turn your head just enough to see him.

"Before, when we were…when we were…when you thought I was the Duke, you said that you loved me. An-and I wondered if…if—"

"If it was just…an act?" You say now turning all the way round to face him.

"Yes!" His eyes were bright like a child.

"Of course." You know there is a lie in there.

His smile falls. "Oh, it just felt…real."

You approach him, desperate to ease his mind. "Ben, I’m a courtesan. I’m paid to make men believe what they want to believe."

"Yes…Silly of me to think that you could…fall in love with someone like me." His words are simple yet filled with too many emotions.

"I can’t fall in love with anyone." You sigh.

A strange smile graces his face, "Can’t fall in love? I understand that."

Curious, you take one more step toward him.

"Where are you from?" You ask and Obi-Wan knows you are more intuitive than you first seemed.

"I am from an order, they're all gone now. We weren't allowed to…" his eyes threatened tears and you felt the same pull to him you felt earlier. It occurred to him then standing in front of you that he had been a fool. The opportunity for love had been handed to him on Mandalore yet he chose to turn away from it. His heart had been broken not one week ago by Anakin turning to the darkside. Proof that he had grown too attached to the man. Obi-Wan knew he had the capacity to love, perhaps this time he would let himself. Searching back through his mind he thought of Master Ruhan and the poems he had written.

"Love is a many-splendored thing, love lifts us up where we belong, all you need is love." It was like he finally understood the words.

"Please, don’t start that again." You shake your head.

" all you need is love." He steps toward you.

"Love is just a game." You whisper, knowing you were already under his spell, "the only way to love me is to pay." You hope the words will break you out of it.

Obi-Wan stops, his hand floating in the space between you, his eyes looking into your own.

"Y/n, I have been starved and I think you have as well. Just one night and then I promise I'll leave you alone."

Your heart breaks a little. You know you should be standing your ground. Say no to him, turn away but you can't. Your body is drawn to him. Grabbing his hand you pull Obi-Wan down the stairs back into the AT-AT. The electricity that sparks through your skin is enough to have you pull him into you and press your lips to his. That was it, the moment it all broke for both of you. Two people, raised to never love, connect by your hearts.

"You're going to be bad for business, I can tell." You giggle between kisses.

************************

How wonderful life was, now Satine was in the world. But, in the Duke, Zidler had gotten much more than he had bargained for.

Duke Valru sits across from Zidler in his office. The large green slug-like Alien fiddles with contracts on his desk.

"Conversion of the Moulin Rouge into a theatre will cost a fantastic sum of money, Zidler." Valru spoke with narrowed eyes, "So, in return, I would require a contract that, um, binds y/n to me, exclusively. Naturally, I shall require some security. I shall require the deeds to the Red Mill."

Zidler baulks at the idea

"My dear Duke I-"

"Please! Don’t think that I’m naïve, Zidler. I shall hold the deeds to the Red Mill and if there are any shenanigans my man-servant, Warner," A Besker clad man stepped into the room, folding his hands in front of him, "will deal with it in the only language that you underworld show-folk understand. Y/n will be mine. It’s not that I’m a jealous man. I just don’t like other people touching my things!" The last few words came out as a yell, Valru calmed himself with several shallow breaths.

"I understand completely, Duke." Zidler gulps.

"Good. Now that we have an understanding, it would appear that, uh…you have the means to transform your beloved Red Mill into a theatre." His smile makes even the Hutt squirm. One thing about this new virgining Empire gave them was a freedom for the slime of the galaxy to rise into power.

"I shall woo y/n over supper, tonight." Valru growled before marching out of the office. Zidler watches, an uneasy feeling wiggling inside him.

"The show must go on." He says to the blue Twi'lek woman beside him.

Yes, the show would go on. But Satine would not attend the supper that night, or the following night.

You, Obi-Wan, and Henri are all in Obi-Wan's room. You are sitting in your robe on the bed, your eyes watching Obi-Wan's every move. Henri is preparing food, and Obi-Wan is explaining the stuff he’s written.

"Fantastic!" Henri exclaims at the delightful scene. Obi-Wan continues, throwing his arms around in animated joy.

"Mad with jealousy, the Evil Maharajah forces the Courtesan to make the Penniless Sitar Player believe she doesn’t love him!"

"That’s…oh, yes!" Henri laughs.

“Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love!” says the Penniless Sitar Player, throwing money at her feet, and leaving the kingdom forever!" Obi-Wan jumps onto the bed, you reach up and pull him down to you.

"Oh, but a life without love! That’s terrible!" You smile. He nuzzles into your shoulder.

"Yes…but, the Kloo Player’s…

"Wait!" Henri runs to the bedside.

"-Magical Kloo-"

"That’s my part, Ben! That’s my part! That’s my part Ben." Henri laughs, "Don’t you dare! The Magical Kloo who can only speak the truth says he says-"

The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.

Days past them all by, y/n would insist on my attendance to all her meetings with the Duke.

*******************

Try as the Duke may, it was almost too easy for the young writer and the lead actress to invent perfectly legitimate reasons to avoid him.

Love grew where I had thought it never could, until darkness fell over the Red Mill.

The rehearsal day was over, you stole away behind a curtain, Obi-Wan pushed against the wall as you kissed him.

"You'll come tonight?" He asks and you nod, "what time?"

"Eight o'clock." You giggle.

Zidler's voice speaking in Huttese echoed across the dancehall.

"Nice work, family! Bright and early tomorrow morning we begin on Act II: The Lovers Are Discovered!"

"Zidler!" The Duke marches over to him.

The Hutt turns, his eyes glancing over to where you stood, your hands around Obi-Wan.

"My dear Duke! Everything is arranged for that special supper in the Temple Tower tonight."

"You might as well eat it yourself, Zidler. " he spat, "Her affections are waning."

"Impossible!" Zidler nervously chuckles.

"I understand how important her work is to her, but she’s always at it with that damn writer! If I don’t see her tonight, I’m very well leaving!"

"No!! My dear Duke…I’ll insist y/n take the night off." He turns him away.

"All right…all right. Eight o’clock, then." He leaves satisfied.

Zidler slides himself around grumbling under his breath as he moves to you. Obi-Wan had already darted away to another room before he approached you. Zidler grabbed your arms, lifting you onto your tiptoes and hissed in Huttese.

"Are you mad? The Duke holds the deeds to the Moulin Rouge! He’s spending a fortune on you. He’s given you a beautiful new dressing room, he wants to make you a star. And you’re dallying with the writer!"

"Oh, no, don’t be ridicul-"

"I saw you together" he cuts you off.

"It’s nothing. It’s just an infatuation, it’s…it’s nothing." You lie.

Zidler pushes you against the wall using his large body to trap you there, his hot breath fanned out over your face.

"The infatuation will end. Go to the boy. Tell him it’s over. The Duke is expecting you in the Tower at Eight."

Your heart sinks as he slithers away. Marie the Blue Twi'lek, and the oldest woman in the Red Mill, helps you to dress. As she pulls the strings of the corset you feel your chest tighten, your throat running dry. A fit of coughing takes over your body, sweat dripping from your face. Marie holds you as you try to walk.

How could I know, in those last fatal days, that a force darker than jealousy and stronger than love had begun to take hold of Satine?

Chocolat the resident Wookie watches in fear as you cough and eventually pass out.

Obi-wan waits expectantly for you in his room, standing by the window. He had no idea what was happening to you, but his mind began to wander. Obi-Wan dejectedly walks back into his table. He slumps down and looks at the datapad he had been writing the play on. The words all melted into one so he tosses it aside.

'Obi-Wan what are you doing?' He scolds himself. Why had he allowed this? Allowed himself.to fall so quickly into a world he had always kept away from. So many years denying the part of himself that this woman had freed within moments of meeting her. Was it the grief of losing the world he had known? The memories that plagued his dreams of destroying the boy he had promised to care for? The fear of becoming just like him? Or did he want to feel something, anything that was not death and destruction? The once great General Kenobi, now just Ben, a penniless, broken man with nothing but his love for a woman. A woman who did not come at eight, nine, ten or eleven. No.

All night he waited, and now, for the first time, he felt the cold stab of jealousy

You did not arrive at his door until six in the morning, before the suns had risen above the deserts. Your face was sullen, dark circles under your eyes, clad only in your underclothes and a robe, the usual corset forgotten in your bedroom.

Obi-Wan stops writing and looks up at you from the table, pained eyes blinking. You cough softly, the back of your hand pressing to your lips.

"Where were you last night?" He asks, trying to ignore the break in his voice.

"I told you, I was sick." You breathe out.

Obi-Wan gets up and sits beside you on the bed.

"You don’t have to lie to me." He could feel the conflict inside you. Frustrated, you turn away from him, holding back your emotions.

"We have to end it." You whisper, "Everyone knows. Zidler knows. Sooner or later, the Duke will find out, too."

Obi-Wan turns his back on you not believing your words; heartbreak forming in his chest.

"On opening night, I have to sleep with the Duke." You stand and walk to the window, "And the jealousy will drive you mad."

Knowing he should be better than this he stands and heads quickly to you.

"Ben-" you hold him back, tears dropping from both your eyes. Ben cups your face with his hand. He has no experience in this, nothing to tell him what to do but instinct and poems by a dead man.

"Then, we’ll write a song and we’ll put it in the show and no matter how bad things get, or whatever happens, whenever you hear it, or when you sing it, or whistle it, or hum it"

Kisses your forehead, "then you’ll know, it’ll mean…it’ll mean that we love one another! I won’t get jealous." He knows his words are like, of course he'll get jealous, he already is.

Attachment, the one thing he had never been allowed, the thing that had taken away his brother. This was a bad idea.

"Things don’t work that way, Ben. We have to end it." You sigh and walk away.

That afternoon in rehearsals Obi-Wan sits beside Satie by the piano.

"Now, this new scene is the scene where the Sitar Player writes a secret song for the Courtesan, so that whatever is happening, however bad things are…they remember their love." His eyes catch yours and you smile at him.

"And, um…we could take it from your line, y/n. So, let’s take it. Let’s take it, if we may-" you note the way his voice cracks and he turns his eyes away from you. The soft piano music begins and you look at the data pad with your script.

The song is perfect in every way; each word pours his love into your heart. A warmth filling you that try to send back. Your eyes flick between your Twi'lek costar and Obi-Wan.

On of the dancers slinks across the room, her body clad in half costume half underwear. She leans down to the Duke, sitting alone on a wooden chair.

"This ending’s silly. Why would the Courtesan go for the Penniless Writer? Oops! I mean Kloo Player."

She gives him a look like he’s an idiot for not seeing it yet, then bounces her eyes between you and Obi-Wan. The Duke seems to make the connection, following her eyeline. Nini goes back to the other Dancers and they share a laugh. Valru takes in a long pointed breath and stands, his neck twisting as he stretches it.

"I don’t like this ending."

Everyone droops in confusion turning to him.

"Don’t like the ending, my dear Duke?" Zidler asks sliding in front of the stage.

"Why would the Courtesan choose a Penniless Kloo Player over the Senator, who is offering a lifetime of security? That’s real love. Once the Kloo Player has satisfied his lust, he will leave the Courtesan with nothing. I suggest that, in the end, the Courtesan choose the Senator." He knew every word would cause a reaction in all of them and he hoped for it. Henri charged forward, his small stature made up for by his anger.

"But…but, but sorry! Sorry, but that ending does not uphold the bohemian ideals of truth, beauty, freedom and lov-"

"I don’t care about your ridiculous dogma!" The Duke shouts, "there is a new Empire now why shouldn’t the Courtesan choose the Senator!?"

Obi-Wan's anger tumbles over the threshold; he stands and shouts.

"Because she doesn’t love you!"

There is a Lllong, horrified pause, as everyone stares at Obi-Wan, who slowly realises what he’s just done.

"Him…him, she doesn’t love…she doesn’t love him." He stumbles backward.

Valru looks back at you, his jaw clenching, "Now I see. Zidler, this ending will be rewritten with the Courtesan choosing the Senator and without the lovers’ secret song. It will be rehearsed in the morning, ready for the opening tomorrow night."

"But, my dear Duke! That will be quite impossible"

You place a hand on Zidler, stepping past him, putting on a brilliant façade that you had been taught early on.

"Zidler the poor Duke is being treated appallingly! These silly writers let their imaginations run away with them." You laugh and approach the Duke, "Now why don’t you and I have a little supper and then, afterwards, we can let Zidler know how we would prefer the story to end, Hm?"

You can feel Obi-Wan is watching them, agony radiating from him.

The Duke agrees with you, leaning in to whisper in your ear. His words freeze your body. You nod and wait for him to leave the dancehall before letting out your breath.

Backstage, you are heading to her dressing room when Obi-Wan stops you. His hand snakes around your arm, holding you gently.

"I don’t want you to sleep with him." He whispers. You lay your forehead on his.

"He could destroy everything." You kiss his cheek, "It’s for us."

He shakes his head, holding back the tears in his eyes.

"You promised. You promised me you wouldn’t be jealous, you- It will be alright." Unsure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. He shakes his head again, unable to look you in the eyes. "Yes, it will…He’s waiting." You try to turn away but he reaches out to stop you, begging

"No…no…"

"Ben, come what may, remember." You whisper.

"Come what may." He whispers back finally allowing you to leave.

She had gone to the tower to save us all. And for our part, we could do nothing but wait.

In the Red Mill everyone seems concerned, sitting around the dancehall. Obi-Wan takes a swig of Tatooine wine. Nini saunters over, a mocking grin on her face as she Plops herself on Obi-wan’s lap.

"Don’t worry, you’ll get your ending. Once the Duke gets his…end…in." She laughs. Obi-Wan pushes her off his lap, almost lunging at her. Several male and female dancers jump between them.

"You get your hands off me!" She shouts.

The Narcoleptic Twi'lek holds a hand to Obi-Wan's chest after comforting Nini.

"Never fall in love with a woman who sells herself. It always ends bad!" The last word reverberates through the room. Everyone jumps a little. Henri watches, totally drunk. Obi-Wan looks ready to cry.

"We have a dance! In the brothels of Ryloth.

Tells the story of a prostitute and a man who falls in love with her."

He pulls Nini to him and they start to dance, mimicking what the Twi'lek is saying.

"First, there is desire. Then, passion. Then, suspicion, jealousy, anger, betrayal! When love is for the highest bidder, there can be no trust. Without trust, there is no love! Jealousy…yes, jealousy will drive you mad!"

Obi-Wan watches as the dancers converge on Nini, passing her between them in a tango. As anger bubbles inside his chest Obi-Wan pulls a thick coat around himself and walks, eyes glued on the door. The dancers move around him.

Inside his mind he is reminded of Ruhan's last poem

HIS EYES UPON YOUR FACE

HIS HAND UPON YOUR HAND

HIS LIPS CARESS YOUR SKIN

IT’S MORE THAN I CAN STAND

WHY DOES MY HEART CRY

FEELINGS I CAN’T FIGHT?

YOU’RE FREE TO LEAVE ME

BUT JUST DON’T DECEIVE ME

AND PLEASE BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY

I LOVE YOU

The words finally echoed his own heart as it shattered apart. The cool of the night air hits him and he walks mind clouded through the courtyard.

There is a force that stops him, halting his feet. A small voice calling out through the Force. He looks up to the balcony of the tower, seeing you standing there. Your eyes meet as the Duke steps up behind you, his hand snaking around your body. His lips whisper into your ear.

The sight makes Obi-Wan feel sick, dropping his eyes to the sand below his feet and walks back to his room in the building across the roadway.

****************

In his room Obi-Wan crumbles, dropping to his knees as objects fly about the room, folding in on themselves. He sees no way of fighting his own emotions, they are too strong and hold too much power.

"No" he Huff's out the word, pushing himself back to his feet. He will not let this defeat him. Reminding himself that he must hide his Jedi heritage he cleans the room by hand. Throwing away every broken object away or hiding it in the closet.

Tired and broken Obi-Wan presses his head to the window allowing the glass to cool him.

The door swings open behind him and Chocolat this Wookie stands behind you. Tears stain your face.

"Y/n?" Obi-Wan runs to you, noting that you were no longer in your black dress, but your underwear.

"I couldn’t! I couldn’t go through with it! I saw you there and I felt terribly and I couldn’t pretend." You sob, "And the Duke, he saw! He saw and he…and he… Christian, I love you."

Obi-Wan pulls you into him, holding you tightly to his chest.

"It’s okay" he whispers.

You shake your head, "And I couldn’t do it; I didn’t want to pretend anymore. I didn’t want to lie, I don’t want," you pull back a bit. "And he knows. He knows, he saw" you're panicking chest rising and falling rapidly.

"It’s all right; you don’t have to pretend anymore. We’ll leave. We’ll leave tonight." He isn't sure what he is saying.

"Leave? But…the show…"

"I don’t care.I don’t care about the show. We have each other, and that’s all that matters."

A sad smile creeps onto your face and you feel all of him.

"Yes. As long as we have each other" you kiss him.

Obi-Wan Grabs the coat he had worn earlier and wraps.it around your shoulder.

"Chocolat, take Miss y/n to her dressing room and get the things she needs. No one must see you, do you understand?" The Wookie nods.

"Darling, you go and pack. And I’ll be waiting." You laugh tearfully kissing him.

Chocolat rushes you back info the Red Mill to your dressing room. You dart about packing up her things into a small bag, when you sees Zidler in the mirror and whirl to face him in surprise. Marie is there, too.

"Forgive the intrusion, Cherub." He sighs.

You turn and put her own coat on, having taken off Obi-Wan's

"You’re wasting your time, Zidler." You say turning away from him.

"Albeit. You don’t understand. The Duke is going to kill Ben."

You gasp a little at his words, looking at yourself self in the mirror.

"No…" Tears are already building up in your eyes.

"The Duke is insanely jealous. Unless you do his ending and sleep with him tomorrow night, the Duke will have Ben killed."

Composing yourself you turn back to Zidler.

"He can’t scare us." You know it's a lie.

"He’s a powerful man. You know he can do it." Zidler is almost begging you.

You stare at him for a moment and then throw your coat off, picking up your things. Zidler slithers closer to you.

"What are you doing?" He asks.

You cannot stop the tears falling as you replace Obi-Wan's coat on your shoulders.

"I don’t need you anymore! All my life, you me believe I was only worth what someone would pay for me! But Ben loves me. He loves me, Zidler. He loves me, and that is worth everything! We’re going away from you, away from the Duke, away from the Red Mill! Goodbye, Zidler." You Turn to the door, toward the Wookie.

"You’re dying, y/n.You’re dying." Zidler finally admits.

Your breath halts for a moment, a light cough reminding you of the days you'd lied in bed.

"Another trick?" You're hopeful.

"No, My Love. The doctor told us." The way his eyes look at you shows you how sorrowful the Hutt is.

"Marie?" You ask one last spark of hope. Marie just looks at you, tears shining in her own eyes. You take a few moments to digest it all

"I’m dying" you whisper, accepting the news.

"Send Christian away. Only you can save him." Zidler implores you.

"He’ll fight for me." You speak through your tears.

"Yes. Unless he believes you don’t love him."

"What?" You look at him.

"You’re a great actress, Satine. Make him believe you don’t love him. Use your talent to save him. Hurt him. Hurt him to save him. There is no other way. The show must go on, y/n. We are creatures of the underworld of Tatooine. We can’t afford to love."

You fall into the chair at the dressing table.

Zidler leaves your dressing room, slithering through the backstage area if the dance hall and he speaks,

"Another hero, another mindless crime

Behind the curtain, in the pantomime on and on, does anybody know what we are living for? Whatever happens, we leave it all chance, another heartache, another failed romance." He reaches the stage, where people are working and things are still being built. Moving down the aisle to the other side of the theatre he continues

"The show must go on outside the dawn is breaking, on the stage that holds our final destiny."

Maria turns back to you, having dressed you in a grey outfit that covered your body.

"The show must go on." She says, quiet and sad.

With your heart broken inside your chest you walk as if condemned to Obi-Wan's room, knocking on the door.

"What’s wrong?" He asks when he sees your stoic eyes.

"I’m staying with the Duke. After I left you, the Duke came to see me and he offered me everything. Everything that I’ve ever dreamed of, he'll take me away from here to the capitals. He has one condition. I must never see you again. I’m sorry." You announce still in the doorway.

"What are you talking about?" Obi-Wan doesn't understand.

You move away from him as he steps closer, and avoid eye contact with him.

"You knew who I was." You say.

"What are you saying? What about last night, what we said?" He feels himself beginning to beg you.

You slink around him, not allowing him to touch you.

"I don’t expect you to understand. The difference between you and I is that you can leave any time you choose but this is my home. The Red Mill is my home." You turn away from him to hide your pain.

"No," he can feel several emotions warring inside you, "there must be something else, this can’t be real, you-"

You're breathing a little too rapidly, either from your disease, or from holding back tears, though you suspect it is both.

"There’s something the matter, tell me what it is?" Obi-Wan tries to hold your hands but you hurry past him and out the door, coughing a few times. Ben catches you at the door, anger creeping to the surface rapidly.

"Tell me what’s wrong! Tell me the truth! Tell me the truth!"

Yanking your arm away from him you look him in the eye.

"The truth? The truth is I am the Naboo Courtesan, and I choose the Senator. That’s how the story really ends." You try to hold onto your sibs. Your eyes hold onto each other for a moment, before he lets you go.

A sand storm gathers on the horizon, Ben's heart has almost visibly been ripped in half. He trembles and staggers back to the bed.

*********************

Obi-Wan stands outside the doors to the Red Mill as sand bellows around him.

"Y/n, y/n!" He calls out.

You sit at your window, tears streaming down your cheeks as you watch two guards grab Ben’s arms and haul him across the street. Your name breaking through the thunderous noise of the sand. One guard hits him hard across the face and they walk away as he falls to the wet concrete. He had been through many wars but this was a different pain. Obi-Wan is carried inside by Satie and the others, lying him on his bed with a bruise forming on his cheekbone above his beard.

The day wears on. The storm passes and the rich of Tatooine file into the dancehall.

Ben sits on his bed with a blanket wrapped around him, and stares off numbly toward the window. Henri stands by the bed, smiling comfortingly.

"Things aren’t always as they seem." He tries to reassure the old Jedi.

"Things are exactly the way they seem." Obi-Wan rebutes.

"Ben, you may see me only as a drunken, vice-ridden Jawa whose friends are just pimps and girls from the brothels. But I know about art and love, if only because I long for it with every fibre of my being. She loves you. I know it, I know she loves you." His tiny body seems too out of place in this broken room.

"Go away, Henri. Leave me alone. Go. Away. Go away!" Obi-Wan shouts, behind Henri a plate shoots from the table and snacks against the wall. Henri, glances at it, takes his coat and leaves, with a last sad look at his tormented friend.

I wanted to shut out what Toulouse had said. But he had filled me with doubt, and there was only one way to be sure.

I had to know.

So I returned to the Red Mill. One last time.

Inside the Red Mill, the show is just starting.

******************

The play goes on, the crows cheer and laugh, they sing and cry along with the characters. The Duke sits amongst his personal guests, his eyes fixed on you as you dance around the stage. Unaware that Obi-Wan was sneaking into the building, his Jedi training finally came into action. He moves through the dressing rooms staying behind costumes rails and curtains. Slipping behind actors one sees the tail of his tunic and the whispering begins.

With their parts ended Henri and Twi'lek are walking up a set of steps backstage. Henri taps his chin.

"There has to be a reason, I know she still loves him." He thinks out loud.

"How about one of them is a Duke and the other-" the Twi'lek's sentence is cut off by his narcolepsie taking control of him and he falls down the stairs right in front of Obi-Wan. Thinking quickly the Jedi removes his simple tunic and slips on the Twi'lek's elaborate costume.

Whilst this was happening you had run back to your dressing room to change into your last costume, the wedding dress. Your chest tightens and you feel a hot, thick liquid fill your throat. You spit it out onto a cloth, seeing the redness stain the material. Finally you understood your employer had not been lying. A shuffle and knocking of your things behind you catches your attention and you spin round to see Obi-Wan in the doorway.

At the edge of the stage Werner, grabs Zidler, who is now backstage, where Henri can see and hear them.

"The boy is here." The helmeted man states, angrily.

"We told y/n that if Ben were to come here, he’d be killed!" The Hutt gawks.

"He very soon will be." Werner pulls his blaster from It's holster.

Obi-Wan walks into your dressing room. You stare at each other for a moment.

Henri runs around behind the stage hoping to find Obi-Wan.

"He’ll be killed? That’s it…that’s why she’s pushing him away, to save him. That’s it, that’s it. Ben!" He cries out as the platform he’s on is raised up higher. Sees Warner moving quickly down the corridor.

"No! Don’t—Oh, God, this is high up!" He says to himself as he rises higher and higher.

"I’ve come to pay my bill." Obi-Wan chicks on the words. You hurry past him.

"You shouldn’t be here, Ben. Just leave.' You hope he'll listen. Obi-Wan stares off for a moment and then turns and follows you. As you rush away to get to your mark your breath becomes shallow, straining with each intake. Obi-Wan follows, hot on your heels.

"You did your job so very, very well!" He spits out at you, attempting to grab for you wrist.

"She’s got to get on stage" Marie hisses at the stage manager.

Obi-Wan follows you up a set of wooden steps.

"Why can’t I pay you like everyone else does!?" Tears are freely falling from his eyes. You turn to him, pleading with every part of your body.

"Don’t. Enn, there’s no point. Just leave."

You spin and run again, still Ben chasing after her again.

One of the stage hands grabs at Obi-Wan's shoulders pulling him back but he uses his training to slip out of his grasp and punch him. Ensuring the man falls safely to the ground Obi-Wan looks around trying to find you once more. You're stood atop a stage platform, eyes wide. A gun is pointing past you toward Obi-Wan and you gasp.

Feeling Obi-Wan ascend the steps you spin once more to face Obi-Wan, sobbing, begging and trying to block the blasters path.

"Go…go…" your tears match his.

Obi-Wan holds out wupiupi cash out for you.

"If it wasn’t real, why can’t I pay you?" His words cut through you.

Behind the door next to you, you can hear Zidler's voice as recites the lines of the play.

"Let me pay! Let me pay!" Obi-Wan pants.

You turn your head just enough to see Werner getting closer. Your hands grab at Obi-Wan's jacket, as your chest tightens further.

"Tell me it wasn’t real! Tell me" his words had turned to begging.

The door to the stage opens, revealing you and Obi-Wan. His hands on your wrists and you kneeling on the floor.

"Tell me you don’t love me!" He whispers as you sob but say nothing.

"Tell me you don’t love me!" He shouts. There is a murmur among the crowd, enlighten you both to their presence. The Duke pulls back his top lip, showing his teeth as anger ignites under his skin.

Panicking Zidler slithers across the stage.

"Hahaha! I am not fooled! Though he has shaved off his beard, and dons a disguise, my eyes do not lie! For it is he, the same Penniless Kloo Player! Driven mad by jealousy" He calls out, the audience murder again in a unified realisation.

Obi-Wan drags you by the wrist down the stage a bit, and lets you fall back to the floor. You cough trying to catch your breath between sobs. He moves away from you speaking apparently to Zidler's character, but actually to the Duke.

"This woman is yours now." He throws the bag of money to the floor next to you and it spills out across the stage. "I’ve paid my whore." His eyes turn to you as you gaze up at him, with tears flowing from your eyes. "I owe you nothing and you’re nothing to me." Obi-Wan chicks on his own sobs, "Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love." He walks off the stage, everyone behind him knows how real this is, and Obi-Wan stops to stare at the Duke for a moment before walking down the aisle.

Henri claps a hand to his forehead, "I can’t remember my line" below him Zidler attempts to stay in character and get you to stand. Henri tries to remember, his eyes darting around himself. Seeing that Obi-Wan is leaving, Werner replaces his blaster and begins to move away from the stage.

You try to compose yourself, pushing up to stand, your tear filled eyes looking at Zidler.

"I’ve got it! I’ve got it! Ben!" Henri shouts at the top of his voice interrupting Zidler. His silly costume tripping him and he starts to fall to the stage, catching himself, dangling from the platforms.

"The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return!" As his voice echoes, something inside you seems to click, the actors on stage and the audience glance between each other. The Duke scowls up at you as you slowly turn around. You sing,

"NEVER KNEW I COULD FEEL LIKE THIS"

He stops briefly, Obi-Wan's face nearly crumbles, and he slowly starts to walk again. He is sure this is just a cruel game you're hell bent on playing.

"LIKE I’VE NEVER SEEN THE SKY BEFORE

WANT TO VANISH INSIDE YOUR KISS" you continue. Obi-Wan stops again. It sounds so real, the pull of your force signature screaming at him.

"EVERY DAY I’M LOVING YOU MORE AND MORE

LISTEN TO MY HEART, CAN YOU HEAR IT SING?"

He turns slowly, and sees that it is real you're calling to him with your eyes and your voice. Life seems to float back into his eyes and a smile tugs at his lips.

"COME BACK TO ME AND FORGIVE EVERYTHING!"

The high note makes you take a gasp for air, nearly coughing. The Duke smiles, having no idea that you are singing to Obi-Wan. The Jedi is watching you, tearful with happiness. Satie conducts the orchestra in gentle music to accompany your words.

"SEASONS MAY CHANGE, WINTER TO SPRING

I love you.

‘TIL THE END OF TIME"

Finally Obi-Wan breaks,

"COME WHAT MAY" he begins the male part of the song, "COME WHAT MAY

COME WHAT MAY," he heads up to the stage, as you walking downstage to meet him, "COME WHAT MAY

I WILL LOVE YOU"

The song continues around you both, the actors and dancers joining in. The Duke growls.under his breath and speaks into a communicator on his wrist. The Mandalorian man servant draws his balster and aims at Obi-Wan as he holds you. Henri spies him and leaps from the platform he had been holding onto.

"Christian! He’s got a gun!" His fall knocks the blaster from Werner's hands and topples them both to the ground. The blaster slides along the stage.

"They’re trying to kill you!" Henri shouts, getting to his feet. The audience laughs at Henri.

Chaos breaks out across the dancehall, people running around and screaming as Werner tries to dash for his gun. His movements trigger a bunch of flashes to go off on stage, and everyone runs around crazily. Chocolat kicks Warner in the head a few times, and manages to kick the gun away. It falls from the stage with a think right at the Duke's feet. He had stood to leave, anger piping from his red hot ears. Hearing the blaster clatter to the aisle behind him he turns. The cast continue to sing out their hearts. The Duke picks up the blaster, holding it out in front of him

The chorus lifts up you and Obi-Wan.

"I WILL LOVE YOU" the sing is hitting it's crescendo.

The Duke rushes to the stage, with the gun pointed at Obi-Wan.

"My way! My way! My way!! My way!" He screams out like a feral beast.

Zidler spins and flicks out his tail hitting the Duke across the face, before he gets there. The Duke falls and the blaster spins away.

The entire cast sing the last words of the song.

"‘TIL MY DYING DAY"

The Duke sits up dejectedly as the curtain falls. The audience gives a standing ovation, applauding wildly. The entire cast is ecstatic, all laughing and congratulating each other. Obi-Wan presses a kiss to your lips, happiness waving off him. Somewhere behind the stage manager calls out.

"Stand by for curtain call! Dancers, positions please!"

Obi-Wan starts to pull you over for curtain call. Stepping away from you just slightly. You can't move, your chest feels like it's on fire, every breath burning your throat. You begin to fall as Obi-Wan looks back to you and he catches you. The smile fades from his face.

"Y/n?"

You begin to cough violently. Henri, Zidler, and other cast members notice what’s happening, their smiles replaced with dread.

"Y/n, what’s the matter?" Obi-Wan asks, holding you in his arms, the coughing eases but you know it isn't a good sign. His knees buckle sending you both to the floor, though he tries to slow your fall.

"What? Darling,darling, what’s the matter? Darling Y/n, what’s the matter?"

Your breathing is raspy and violent, worse than it’s been yet. The noise around him all but silences in his ears. You cough again.

"Gods, Oh my God" Obi-Wan breaths out, Seeing blood dripping from your mouth and touched it with his thumb. Finally Obi-Wan understood his Padawan. The way his mouth ran dry and dripped with spit at the same time. Tears fell freely, staining his face.

"Somebody get some help!" He screamed out.

"Hold the curtain! Fetch the doctor!" Zidler hissed to his stage manager.

You reach up to him, your arm feeling to heavy.

"I’m sorry, Christian…I…I’m…I’m…I’m dying." You say as loud as you can muster your voice. Your lover refuses to believe it.

"Shhh…shhh…it’s all right." He holds on to you. The cast is all watch on, silently.

Every breath hurts you

"I’m so sorry." You whisper.

"No, you’ll be alright. You’ll be alright." Obi-Wan's tears drip onto your face. You wish you could believe him.

"Cold…I’m cold…cold. Hold me." You say to him, hoping his heat would change something. Obi-Wan holds you close to him, he searches the faces around him, afraid of their pained expression. He smiles a little for you.

"I love you." He says so only you can hear.

You smiles back, and can only whisper.

"You’ve got to go on, Ben."

His voice breaks as he speaks.

"Can’t go on without you, though." He attempts to laugh but it comes.out as a sob.

"You’ve got so much to give" You reach up and touch his face as he tries to hold back his tears.

"Don't hide away forev, Ben. The world needs you."

He shakes his head and starts to weep harder.

"No…"

"Yes… Promise me. Promise me. Don't shut yourself off from the force." He gulps realising you knew what he was. "That way, I’ll…I’ll always be with you." He nods to you, pulling you closer to him again.

You take a few soft, gasping breaths, smiling at Obi-Wan as he weeps and kisses you one last time.

As he pulls back, the force tells him as his heart breaks in two. You are dead. He cradles your body as coloured paper still floats around you. There isn't a dry eye amongst the cast. Beyond the curtain the audience continue their applause, unaware of your demise. The Duke boards his ship scowling back at the Bordello.

Days turned into weeks.

Weeks turned into months. And then, one not-so-very special day, I went to my datapad, I sat down, and I wrote our story.

A story about a time, a story about a place, a story about the people but above all things, a story about love.

A love that will live forever in the heart of a once great Jedi.

My story does not end here, there would be adventures yet to have but my heart stayed forever within the walls of the RED MILL.

The end.

[merrysithmas]

Why do you think so many take the stance that Leia would never forgive Anakin and essentially hate him forever when in the original EU she named her youngest son after him (Anakin Solo) and said he’d “ be a great Jedi like his grandfather.” ?

I think it's a case of exposure.

Leia, tragically, has had hardly no development in the modern on-screen pop culture. Luke has had endless comics, scenes, EU novels, but more importantly is he has had development in what is popularly consumed by the general audience - the films, and was even resurrected by CGI to continue to have development in our current time period.

Leia (and Shmi) the two female Skywalkers (no surprise) are the most ignored and underdeveloped portion of SW when it comes to on-screen appearances. Unfortunately the great Carrie passed away before we could see any narrative substance from her in the Sequels which was just such a shame. On top of that, Leia got no grand entrance and pomp/circumstance such as Luke saving the Mandalorian - capturing our hearts again. She didn't train Grogu and was mostly, yet again, sidelined in the sequels for Luke's development.

So I think it has less to do with fanon interpretation than real-life sexism and favoritism of the men / male directors making Star Wars content right now.

I think the fandom would very much get behind a Leia story and sympathize with an arc focusing on her rejection/acceptance of her heritage.

For what it's worth Leia's fear of her father/Vader who tortured her is obviously just as powerful as Luke's forgiveness of Anakin. That is a great story there.

Anakin is more like Luke - this is why he was Luke's opponent in the Force. Luke sympathizes with Anakin because he could see himself in Anakin's shoes - falling like he did.

Leia is more like Vader - this is why she was his opponent in the Senate. Leia does not sympathize with Vader because she could see herself in Vader's shoes - ruling as he did with an iron unforgiving fist, even falling as he did.

The great lost opportunity in the twin's story is seeing Leia come to understand Anakin & Luke come to understand the toxic destruction caused by Vader... through their relationship with each other.

Luke could help Leia heal and see their father through the lens of the Force - see her own goodness & not fear her dark side. Leia would help Luke see Vader's evil actions on a galactic scale and thus help him become a better and more compassionate Jedi to the galaxy by understanding why many people may mistrust or hate him despite him trying to do good.

But... pretty bluntly, I'd argue the lack of understanding of Leia's amazing character comes down to sexism in the film industry and a lack of interest by male creators in exploring her complexity.

... which then trickles into the fandom because there is really no well-established narrative for her in the GA's eyes, film-wise.

Even in the Sequels we get hints of it - Leia feared continuing her Jedi training with Luke. She foresaw the death of her son and ran away - feeling like perhaps she would take Vader's path and kill him. But in the world of Star Wars, we know all characters have predetermined destinies - Ben Solo would always die. This suggests Leia abandoned her training which could have saved him - a self-fulfilling prophecy she interpreted incorrectly until the end (when she died saving him with her last breath using her Force abilities).

It has also been suggested in numerous SW media that Leia was even stronger in the Force than Luke - unfortunately we never get to see her explore her fear or learn more on screen.

Leia's hatred of Vader and her fear of Anakin's fate boil down to her fear of the kinship she feels in the general qualities she shares with her father - unfortunately on screen we never get to see her learn the great lesson of Star Wars: that everything has two sides. The qualities of Vader that she fears- unrelenting, dogged, inescapable, great power in the Force ... could be used by someone more clear-minded for good.

That good person is Leia.

[0lemon-and-lime0]

So I was bullshitting with my friends and BOOM au idea! I thought I’d share it with y’all! :D

Ok so this is a Star Wars modern au at an high school. Anakin is Ben (obi-wan’s) student teacher and the both of them also help coach the fencing club. The “clones” are a family of pretty identical jocks. Most play (American) football. They are aged down to late teens ish. Ahsoka is a prodigy student who’s placed in Ben and Anakin’s homeroom and ELA class.

There are quite a few major changes. Example: Ventress is aged down to be a rival student at the “dark side school” (I have yet to pick a name) additionally the original 3 Star Wars movies exist as movies in this au. Unfortunately this caused me to change some names like Skywalker that appeared in canon. The last names are changed to their actors last names. While some prequel only characters can get away with it.[the exception: one side of the “clone family” have the last name Fett.] OH and Padme is on school board, palpatine is mayor. Yay politics-

If you have any questions please ask! ^-^

I’ll probably post more art and stories from this au.

[renlyslittlerose]

Of Men and Monsters

Rating: E

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker

Chapter: 1/32

Tags:  Alternate Universe - Modern Setting / Alternate Universe - Vampire / Human/Vampire Relationship / Vampire Anakin / Watcher Obi-Wan / Slayer Ahsoka / The Force as Magic / Force Bond / Magic / Demons / Blood Drinking /Violence / Mildly Dubious Consent / Minor Character Death / Angst / Hurt/Comfort / Mental Health Issues / Anakin Skywalker Has BPD / Grief/Mourning / Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms / Unhealthy Relationships / Secret Relationship / Anal Sex / Anal Fingering / Rimming / Oral Sex / Switch Obi-Wan Kenobi / Switch Anakin Skywalker

Summary:  Let me share in your life,” Anakin whispered. He pressed in close, their noses brushing. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and pushed himself back against the wall, but Anakin followed him. “Let me sleep with your heart beneath my hand, your pulse against my lips, your cock between my thighs. Let me live through you. Let me be a part of your humanity. -- Anakin was a boy made of magics and gilded in prophecy, his story unendingly important to the universes in all their multitude; Obi-Wan was nothing of the sort, humble in origin and in manner. Fate saw it fit to bring them together, the two sworn to fight the forces of darkness in whichever way it appears.

But prophecies are tricky things. When Anakin is turned by a vampire who follows an ancient cult known only as The Sith, Obi-Wan is forced to navigate his feelings for the demonic entity that has lay claim to his gilded boy, all the while trying to prevent an apocalypse centuries in the making.

[starcrashx]

An AU idea that I just call Modern AU cuz I'm creative.

I want a functioning Star wars family. But like with Starkiller. I think it would be funny if Anakin a tired dadTM tried to fill the hole in the family that stan queen Padme left but he won't marry anyone else bc well there ain't no badass woman in the galaxy like Padme so he decides to adopt Galen death is a social construct Marek who I made the same age (for chaos purposes) the twins. The twins are chaotic af Luke is a ray of sunshine and Leia is the sunshine protector. She will play fist fight god with whoever insults her boys. Han definitely not pinning for Leia Solo is also making an appearance but the focus is on the Skywalkers. Obi-wan is the wine aunt who has more arguments with Anakin than the whole family combined. Ashoka is the youngest sibling of the trio (all Anakin and Ashoka are the adopted siblings of Obi-wan) is just filming the whole thing and makes a blog titled: Living with the Skywalkers. The Fetts are also there and while they are running a successful café business they make sure that no one dies and nothing burns. Oh and all this in a modern world. Palpatine is trying to ruin the family and has something to do with the car crash that took Padme's life. And if it isn't a coincidence that Galen's parents also died in a car crash. Hmmmmm. But who could blame that raisin ass old man politician for three people's death. It's just silly. Also Juno haunts Galen's every day what a healthy relationship.

If god and anime is on my side I will post this fic I want this more than Disney making Rey a lovable character. Peace✌️

[cosleia]

His Creature

palpoke (aka snalps), 451 words, modern au, fake relationship, pining, T

Jim Snoke and Steve Palpatine's tumultuous affair was fodder for the gossip rags for decades, starting when they met as young “self-made” millionaires and continuing throughout their oft-contentious business rivalry. Wall Street considered their relationship a market indicator.

In 1965, Palpatine earned Snoke’s ire by taking a very handsome young man named Anakin Skywalker under his wing. (That Anakin became disfigured shortly thereafter did not ease Snoke's mind.) Snoke had his revenge in the 2000s when he took not one but two young men as wards.

“They’re my proteges,” Snoke told Palpatine coolly over cocktails at the Plaza, according to People magazine.

“Bullshit,” Palpatine reportedly replied.

What no one knew was that it was all an act. A show, put on to sway public opinion of things that went far beyond the two of them. With their performed on-again, off-again fire, they changed the course of world economies.

It was all pretend.

Well...not all of it.

Sure, the passionate kisses, the screaming in the streets, the walks of shame from each other’s luxury apartments, the indulgent trips to Rome, those were all fake. Going through the motions.

But the way Snoke gazed at Palpatine when he thought he wasn’t looking? The emptiness he felt whenever they had to pretend to hate each other? The longing when they were playing lovers, when he could touch Palpatine but knew it meant nothing to him?

That was real.

Jim Snoke was literally 85 years old, and his heart still skipped a beat when Steve Palpatine said his name.

Palpatine didn’t feel the same way. He couldn’t. All this time, all these years, he’d played his part perfectly. When he was supposed to be deeply in love, he appeared to be deeply in love. When he was supposed to be so angry at Snoke he couldn’t think straight—well.

If he didn’t know it was all a ruse, Snoke would believe Palpatine when he screamed that he never wanted to see him again. Their “reconciliations” were always a quiet relief. He dreaded the next blowup, even when it was his turn to instigate.

He wished they could stop pretending. But he knew if they did, it would all be over.

Oh, they’d meet at the club, they’d have drinks, they’d chat amicably. But they wouldn’t flirt. They wouldn’t kiss. They wouldn’t slide their hands over each other’s clothing or into each other’s trousers. They wouldn’t wake up in a tangle of bedsheets, naked and sore and bruised.

Snoke would never feel Palpatine’s heartbeat against his skin again.

All Snoke could do was live this life of longing, purposeless save for playing out the script Palpatine had written so long ago. All he could do was be the creature Palpatine had created.

And Palpatine would never know.

[iamtaran]

Thanks for the tag! Also I'm curious about 'But for grace'!

Yours is one of the handles I see on my feed often enough that I feel like we live in the same internet neighborhood, so I had to invite you to the block party! 😎

Okay I know it's been a hot minute but house chores wait for no man (unfortunate), and I realized I was suddenly indecisive. Once I started thinking on it, it was so hard to choose a scene!! This is one of those fics that just snuck up. I love a good trope inversion - especially one as well-established when it comes to time travel fix its and modern-character inserts, so maybe it was inevitable once I started wondering what could go wrong. Especially when the answer is "Everything".

But For Grace Change.  Never has it resounded through Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn as powerfully as it has since he met Anakin Skywalker. 

Far above, battle yaws and heaves across the streets of Theed and its neighbouring marshlands where change marches on Naboo, on the Republic, and–were he honest–the entire galaxy. And here before him, change smiles at him with a Zabrak’s sharp teeth. 

Qui-Gon knows he is beaten even before the Sith disarms him. 

It’s in the intonation. Master Dooku coined the term when he was still a Padawan. The intonation of a duel, that teetering balance where two sensibilities meet and test the other. From within the battle trance, Qui-Gon feels the patterns falling into place. 

I will die here. 

The knowledge does not break his tranquillity. In the Force, life and death are no different. He does not fear. Instead, he sinks deeper. Crystalline awareness fills him, revealing facets within facets with every strike and counterstrike. Where Qui-Gon and the Sith meet seem fixed points planned long ago. 

Perhaps they were. Do not crystals and minerals shatter in predeterminate patterns? Inherent within their structure—the inevitability of breaking. 

When I fall, thinks Qui-Gon, the duel will be my Padawan’s to finish.

That is the first crack in his calm. At their next meeting, Qui-Gon misjudges the angle of a block and has to shift cadences to turn aside the following thrust before it skewers him. Seeing the mistake, the Sith redoubles and it is all Qui-Gon can do to follow. He breathes.

His Padawan is an exceptional duelist and Jedi. Obi-Wan has been ready for his knighting for some time. Qui-Gon can only trust in the Force and, more importantly, in his student and friend. 

I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me. With his next breath, Qui-Gon releases the what-if’s and anxieties of the future. Be in the present. I need only trust and let go.

So Qui-Gon lets himself go and the Force to work through him.

Which is why an unexpected shift in the Force, not the moment nor the duel but the entirety of the Force, staggers him and nearly takes Qui-Gon off his feet.

His opponent recovers first. With a disdainful flick of his staff the Sith disarms him—Qui-Gon turns, too late—facets within facets; predeterminate; fixed—thrusts his saber into Qui-Gon Jinn.

Yet, for a second between turning and turned, time yawns and lengthens its back. 

Where it arcs away, Qui-Gon’s saber appears suspended on air. It seems an age that he tracks it. Then, a figure coming round the core dressed in absolutely filthy clothing reaches up mid-stride and, as easy as pulling a fruit from a low branch, plucks Qui-Gon’s lightsaber from the air.

Time resumes its course. The red saber punches through him. Distant, Obi-Wan screams. 

No blood pours off the red blade. The cup of Qui-Gon’s startled hands fills only with red light. 

When their eyes meet, the Zabrak finally pulls the blade free, and then Qui-Gon feels it. 

The Zabrak smiles as he pulls the blade free, triumphant, only for his eyes to widen. Twisting around, he brings his saber up into a high block just in time to catch Qui-Gon's blade on his own. At its other end, the person wielding it stares.

This Qui-Gon observes from the floor. When did I, he wonders; remembers, I blinked and–

“You,” sneers the Zabrak, “are no Jedi.” 

The terrified face blanches. Wiry arms tremble, muscles and tendons standing out in thin wrists, yet the crossed blades don't so much as waver. The stranger gasps with effort, only to gasp again when the Sith brings a hand up between them. 

“You thought to strike me?”  Qui-Gon hears him say from a steadily growing distance. One of the servant’s hands flies up to claw at eir throat, first confusion then terror flashing over eir face. “You, barely more than an insect before me?” the Sith snarls, the muscles of his arm drawing taut as his fingers close further and further. “A worm? You would strike me?” 

Yet a pit of sucking darkness in the Force, the Zabrak sears with rage. Even Qui-Gon, trying and failing to grasp the Force, feels singed by it.

Choking soft sounds, the servant scrabbles again at eir neck, then his hand, eir movements becoming jerky with desperation. The Zabrak bears pleased teeth. 

“There could never be any conclusion but your death.”

Move, Qui-Gon thinks at his uncooperative body. While skin tone proves inscrutable beneath a layer of dust, the whites of the servant's eyes begin to redden with burst capillaries, and still he cannot summon his strength to move. He has no choice but to watch as the human stares into the Zabrak–the Sith’s eyes and mouths a word. 

The change is instantaneous. Snake-strike fast, the Sith sheathes his weapon, locks a hand over their own on Qui-Gon’s hilt, and turns the saber back to menace em, buzzing just beneath their ear. 

“How,” hisses the Sith over anguished choking, “do you know my name?”

For a moment, the only sound is the renewed scrambling of eir feet on marble. With a curt twitch, the Sith kisses the blade under the hinge of eir jaw. The smell of burnt skin boils around them, and what could only be a choked scream.

With tears cutting tracks down each cheek, eir mouth moves again. One word, over and over. The plasma blade threatens nearer.

“How?!” demands the Sith, spittle flying.

Heralded by the sound of his saber igniting, Obi-Wan leaps into the scene. The Zabrak has only enough time to hurl his prey aside and flip away from a vicious swing that would have bisected him at the waist. Undeterred, Obi-Wan follows not a half beat behind. Evasive momentum becomes an attack; becomes two, three, five strikes. Obi-Wan catches each of them with his saber.

Turning aside the final blow, Obi-Wan slips his blade in and breaks the Sith’s cadence. Just as Qui-Gon taught him, he twists into an attack and leaps—not accounting for the other end of the staff. Plasma burns a sharp line through Obi-Wan’s tunics and the skin beneath. Undeterred, he completes the strike. The Sith turns into the thrust like a dancer to practiced choreography. It shows the sort of fluid ease Qui-Gon might see in the Order’s most talented duelists. 

That observation is the first thing to break through the sticky, creeping shock.

The first gasp of air soothes and burns so powerfully that Qui-Gon must barely have breathed before. Heaving for breath, he finds his numb hands in a flood of adrenaline. Pressing hard at his wound—through his flank, not the diaphragm as intended—he feels sweat erupt across his face. 

Gritting his teeth, Qui-Gon fumbles at his belt with thick fingers, all the while aware of the duel ionizing the air meters away. By the time he manages to extract the bacta pod and slit it with his thumbnail, he is beyond winded. The edges of his vision threaten grey. Breathing deep, Qui-Gon squeezes bacta into his wound.

Slowly the painkilling properties make themselves known, and Qui-Gon is able to feel, taste, see, smell something other than pain.

The duel has unspooled across the space. As he turns his head to watch, he cannot fail to see one fact.

His Padawan fights magnificently.

Along the borders of the platform the duel heaves and yaws, fast and staccato with blows. Where Qui-Gon’s duel against the Sith found openings through circles within circles, Obi-Wan spears incessantly forward, never turned aside but merely rerouted. The momentum of every block and counterstrike he transforms into renewed offensive and neatly turns his enemy’s strength back upon him. In a stroke of revelation, Qui-Gon thinks I have to teach that boy Soresu. 

When the duel moves into his periphery, Qui-Gon lets it and his feelings go and sinks into a healing meditation.

Having assessed and stabilized the insult dealt to his body, when he emerges perhaps a minute later, it is to see the Sith unwinding a series of vicious strikes. Tighter and tighter he winds each revolution until he hammers Obi-Wan’s defences. In comparison, Obi-Wan moves with that pared down, lean efficiency that suddenly reminds Qui-Gon of his old master. 

In so spare a style, the first unexpected flourish takes his opponent by surprise. The Zabrak loses a half-beat, cedes a step. 

It could be a fluke. They trade blows. Yet in the gasp of a feinted block—there, again! Obi-Wan breaks the weave with a move Qui-Gon recognizes yet doesn’t. 

I didn’t teach him that, he thinks with a growing sense of pride. Obi-Wan winds around the Zabrak, and Qui-Gon sees it. It’s as if Obi-Wan is taking the Sith’s own style and abbreviating it, then turning it back on him. 

They enter a whip fast dialogue, blades crashing and sparking. Already spotted with small chars and burns, the Sith takes a long swipe across one hand that, with a flash of sparks, clips one emitter. That blade sputters and dies. 

The intonation! Nearly bursting with un-Jedi-like pride, Qui-Gon watches the circle break open as the Zabrak jumps back, shifts a heel, and enters a new single bladed style. He’s changed it!

This time the Zabrak leads them into an exchange nearly too quick to see. First one way then the other, momentum turning and ricocheting, and still he fails to make a hit. The pall of his frustration swells in the Force. With a snarl the Zabrak twists from a feint into a low, lethal thrust.

Quicksilver, Obi-Wan slithers his blade around the Sith’s, twists it first up the red blade, turning it aside; then up the red arm, leaving behind a spiral of seared skin. Finally, Obi-Wan’s blade slides home neatly under one collarbone.

Surprise slackens the Sith’s face.  Then he falls, and is still.

“Good job."

Obi-Wan whirls. “Master!”

“I’m alright,” Qui-Gon insists when Obi-Wan reaches him at a run. Crouching beside him, Obi-Wan snorts. His master has a good sabacc face, but given the sharp breath he draws when Obi-Wan helps him sit, he isn’t buying it. 

“You were stabbed, that is far from alright.” His voice comes out sharper than intended. “What happened, Master?” 

Despite the characteristic impatience when faced with the unknown, Obi-Wan levels his question whilst cajoling Qui-Gon’s arm away from his side with gentle hands. Qui-Gon huffs.

“I’m not sure,” he admits at length, finding himself somewhat miffed by the admission. “You felt it too?”

“The shift in the Force? Yes, of course,” Obi-Wan confirms. “I’ve never felt anything like it. I almost thought it would take me off my feet.”

“Yes, well,” says Qui-Gon peevishly, “be grateful you weren’t fighting the Zabrak when it happened.”

There is quiet for a moment.

"It's something to be considered at another time." He carefully fends off Obi-Wan’s insistent hands. "For now, go see to our friend.”

He directs Obi-Wan across the chamber with a pointed look. Obi-Wan hesitates. 

At last he stands, momentarily shamed. A Jedi should always see to the well-being of others first.

“Stay right here,” Obi-Wan commands, trying to recover himself. He doesn’t expect Qui-Gon to obey, but it still demands saying. “Don't try to move until I can take a look at that.”

Which is why he is not at all surprised when, less than a minute later, he hears, “How is ee?”

“I thought I told you to stay there,” Obi-Wan grouses without heat as Qui-Gon joins him. “I’m not sure yet.”

Their friend proved to be young, human, and uniformly smudged a dirty grey. Without any obvious injuries beyond the known, caution is still necessary. It is as Obi-Wan feels for any obvious breaks that ee begins to stir.

“It’s alright,” he tells em, deeply aware of eir quick harsh breaths. Bloodshot eyes flutter. “It’s over now. You’re safe.”

With some doing and Obi-Wan’s assistance, ee manages a sitting position. 

“Slowly,” says Obi-Wan, offering support where he can. Ee moves with the hesitance of someone who doesn't know where a pain starts or ends, and one arm remains clamped around eir middle “Take your time. Try to breathe slowly.” 

“That’s good,” says Qui-Gon when ee seems a tad steadier. “Are you hurting anywhere?”

At his voice, ee jolts into Obi-Wan, who grunts. Qui-Gon retracts his hand from eir shoulder quickly, holding it in clear sight.

“Easy! Easy,” he repeats. A pair of huge eyes find him. “You’re safe.”

“You–” 

A coughing fit so hoarse that Qui-Gon winces sympathetically obliterates whatever ee meant to say.

Inspired, Qui-Gon fumbles the last hydropod from his belt with his offhand and tosses it. After so many years as a unit, Obi-Wan catches it without looking. He tears the corner with his teeth and offers it.

“Here, drink this. Don’t try to speak.”

While ee drinks it in nervous sips, Obi-Wan finally manages to bully Qui-Gon into giving him a proper look at his side. The first glimpse makes him hiss.

“Master, that's-”

“-Not bad,” says Qui-Gon pointedly, “given he was aiming to kill me.”

“Well, it’s certainly not good!”

Clearly looking to redirect his apprentice, Qui-Gon asks around his industrious Padawan, “Beside your neck, are you hurt anywhere else? No broken bones?”

Their friend shakes eir head. Between them, Obi-Wan sighs but begins applying a dressing as best he can with limited supplies.

At first sight of Qui-Gon’s side when Obi-Wan shifts, their friend makes a horrified sound like a malfunctioning hullscraper. As if compelled to touch, ee reaches out only to snatch eir hand back just as quickly. 

“It’s alright. I’ll be fine,” Qui-Gon says to eir guilty glance and pointedly ignores Obi-Wan’s disparaging snort.  “It could have been much worse.”

“Alive.” The whisper is rough and completely removed from what a normal human voice sounds like. After a moment, eir meaning registers.

“That I am. And it’s in no small part thanks to your interference, my friend…?”

Voice coming and going in pops and fits, it takes a few tries and more than a little lip reading.

“Fe Lii-Shen?” is what at last which earns him a nod. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” 

Ee is not. By all accounts, the worst of it remains the burn pressed just behind the hinge of eir jaw, about three inches long and the exact width of a lightsaber blade. It stands out lurid and angry against the ring of bruises rapidly forming about eir neck.

“That was a very brave thing you did, Fe Lii-Shen— and exceedingly reckless, I might add.” Qui-Gon meets eir surprise with stern brows. “Coming between two duelists with lightsabers is incredibly dangerous. What were you thinking?”

Lii-Shen’s eyebrows perform an exclamative leap. Ee croaks, “You—dead!” 

Eir distress is vibrant, both past and present. Sighing, Qui-Gon clasps eir shoulder. Even having watched him move, Lii-Shen stills like a startled grazer.

“Whilst I can’t say I condone such recklessness with your life,” he says, softening enough to crack a wry smile, “I am grateful nonetheless. And now to return the favour.” Thanking Obi-Wan for his help, he quickly resettles his robes and cautiously stands to offer a hand. “Those wounds want a healer. If your throat continues to swell, it could interfere with your breathing.”

Confirming that there are no hidden injuries or breaks, the two dress Lii-Shen’s neck with bacta dressings in hopes of heading off any swelling. That finished and resettling his arm protectively across the wound, Qui-Gon takes a moment to stop his padawan and examine the familiar line of his brow, much changed from childhood yet somehow utterly the same. Obi-Wan blinks at him quizzically.

“When the Zabrak disarmed me, I knew you would have to fight him.” Landing a hand between neck and shoulder, Qui-Gon gives him a squeeze. “I can admit I was afraid.”

Obi-Wan clears his throat. “Given how many times I have tried to do the same only to be the one disarmed, it’s no wonder!”

“It’s good to practice,” Qui-Gon intones lightly, allowing himself to relax into the familiar patter. “Your lightsaber is your life, Padawan.”

Obi-Wan groans. “How many more times must I hear this lecture, Master?”

“Given that you defeated the enemy that I could not,”—Obi-Wan’s shocked face flashes up—“I believe I can confidently say you no longer need it. You have surpassed me, Padawan.”

Qui-Gon allows that pride to fill him again; not only fill, but to flow down their training bond, and smiles when Obi-Wan can only stare, a pleased flush creeping into his ears. Qui-Gon claps him on the shoulder a final time.

“But these are talks for another time. Lii-Shen, are you well enough to–” he begins and stops. 

Stop because Lii-Shen has peeled eir arm from its protective curl to reveal the familiar glint of his saber’s hilt. That he had neither noticed its absence nor felt its proximity strikes him momentarily dumb. 

Clearly misreading his reaction, Lii-Shen winces.

“Sorry.”

Lifting it with filthy hands at odds with eir reverence, in an unexpectedly charming gesture Lii-Shen bows to press eir brow to its hilt before offering it back to him. 

“Sorry,” ee rasps again, “if - shouldn't.” 

Despite the current state of things, Qui-Gon feels his lips twitch as he receives it. Something about it all; there’s no describing what strikes him. Eir grey figure, nearly comedic. A man returned his own right hand, perhaps.

What he says is, “Quite alright, given the circumstance.”

Obi-Wan clears his throat. “What was that about a Jedi’s lightsaber, Master?”

“Yes, thank you, Obi-Wan.” 

At that moment, an explosion shakes the palace walls somewhere above them. Muffled only marginally by a thick hundred meters of stone and the din of the plant, the following shockwave claps through them all. Their ears pop. Lii-Shen loses eir feet. The rumbling of the aftershocks linger long moments afterwards, syphoning away into a sub auditory shake before finally subsiding. 

Through the ringing in their ears, the two Jedi hear a hoarse exclamation. 

“Anakin!”

Dumbstruck, their eyes meet. Then, “Wait!”

By the time Obi-Wan breaks through his shock to call out, Lii-Shen is already darting away. 

The two Jedi catch em in the next chamber just as ee opens a hidden panel in the wall. It leads through a solid meter of marble into a narrow, dusty corridor choked with piping and bundles of wires. 

Seeing them come up alongside, Qui-Gon a half step behind his Padawan, Lii-Shen gestures, beckoning.

“Come.”

“Now, wait a moment-” 

Lii-Shen does not, but slithers into the dimness. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan share a look loaded with questions. Frowning, Qui-Gon extends a sour hand.

“After you.”

The corridor proves even more constricting than first glance, and while Obi-Wan has only a little height on their guide, Qui-Gon has no such luck. Besides finding the corridor slim to the point of discomfort, the two also find themselves tripping over the odd crate or defunct mouse droid.

After a dozen cramped meters of slithering, ducking, and careful negotiations, Obi-Wan spots Lii-Shen’s dim silhouette ahead. Panting with the awkward exertions, he draws near enough to differentiate the new layer of grime liberally coating Lii-Shen’s bonnet-cap before asking, “Where are we?”

“Maint’nance.”

“Why?”

The distinctive look passed over Lii-Shen’s shoulder suggests ee is unimpressed. Ee presses on.

“We’ve been in contact with Panaka working with the rebel forces,” he says, tucking around a series of steaming pipes with a wince. “I hadn’t heard anything about a contingent holed up in the palace.”

A dark eye flashes back at him.

“Secret.” 

Ee can’t speak for a few metres, though this coughing might simply be the dust in the air. 

“Stuck,” says Lii-Shen when ee’s able. Prying himself out of the passage behind Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon manages to sneeze irately as he begins shaking clouds from his robes as well. Both Jedis’ robes have already begun to grey to match Lii-Shen’s outfit, and no matter how he snorts and wipes his fave, Obi-Wan cannot seem to escape the clinging dust. “Survived.”

“How have you all managed to remain hidden?”

Lii-Shen smacks the outer wall meaningfully. 

“The thick marble,” says Obi-Wan with an air of epiphany. “The droids can’t detect you through the stone?”

Their guides flashes him the white crescent of eir teeth, but no further answers.

Behind him, Qui-Gon grunts in what could be either agreement or that he’s received a light scalding from one of the pipes. Despite the less than ideal situation and his concerns for his Master with all this wriggling, Obi-Wan has to hide a smile. Though he would pretend to be disaffected, Qui-Gon hates tight spaces, especially when it means being forced to squeeze and crawl through. While Obi-Wan doesn’t know if it’s discomfort or indignity, he does know that Qui-Gon is going to be a bear about it.

As if sensing the direction of his thoughts, Qui-Gon grouses, “Padawan.”

“Something the matter, Master?”

“Here,” caws Lii-Shen ahead, ignorant to or simply ignoring their byplay.

In short order however Obi-Wan finds himself ducking his head under a low hanging pipe only to emerge into some sort of war camp.

Almost as large as the one they had left in the plasma processing core, the space overflowed with the humid presence of many living bodies, seemingly all of them in frantic motion. Those who could stand helped those who couldn’t gather belongings, reload weapons, bind wounds, or feed the convalescent. Two cooks shimmered with sweat over primitive open flame stoves, stirring large cauldrons, while on the opposite side of the room three older humans hunched around an ancient comms unit, taking notes. 

There had to be nearly two dozen humans scattered about the room in between a mishmash of crates, containers, and jerryrigged barriers. Lii-Shen strides through the chaos without pause, headed for the two humans standing guard just behind a makeshift cover.

As Obi-Wan approaches after having assisted Qui-Gon in ducking the pipes, he hears the shorter of the two asking in a burnished voice, “Did the charging station work?”

Lii-Shen face twists with guilt as ee shakes eir head. Then, to Obi-Wan’s fascination, they made a flat fingered gesture as if plucking a stray hair at the temple and throw it away.

“You don’t know?” The woman frowned. Stout and of a middling age, it folded fierce lines between her thick brows and seemed to cow Lii-Shen completely. “Did you not check? And who is this you’ve brought with you?” 

Obi-Wan jumped. He hadn’t even seen her look his way!

Stepping forward with an ease Obi-Wan still felt in want of, Qui-Gon interrupted smoothly, “Whatever the goal, I’m afraid Lii-Shen was distracted away from it by my Padawan and I. We were in need of assistance. I’m afraid ee’s been injured in the process.”

The woman looked at him skeptically. Her hand, whilst landing on her hip, Obi-Wan noted was also now very close to the holster affixed there. 

“And you are?”

“Jedi,” Lii-Shen rasped helpfully. 

The woman blinked surprise at their guide but quickly narrowed her eyes at Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon. “Jedi? Now? Where were you weeks ago when this invasion started?”

“Assisting Her Majesty to safety beyond the influence of the Trade Federation,” said Obi-Wan with supreme mildness, feeling irked. “Who are these people? What are you doing here? We haven’t seen any other civilians in the palace.”

These people were listening, and had perked up at the mention of the Queen. Murmurs blossomed around the room. Within moments a number of dirty faced, tired looking people were crowding around the conversation. It was only seeing them pressing close, all equally worn and coated in uniform grime over uniform cloth, that sparked realisation.

“You’re the palace staff!” He looked around the room with new eyes. “You’ve been here all along?”

Indeed, the more he looked the more he began to recognize the once pristine uniforms, the mechanics’ and engineers’ coveralls, the guard’s utiles covered in piecemeal armor. 

And all of them absolutely filthy, he noted. Whatever grey dust or dirt coated Lii-Shen also adorned these people, creating the impression that he spoke with a host of ghosts straight from a youngling story.

“That’s right,” said the woman with a touch of pride. “I’m Mauda Seshnu. You’re in Bent Neck camp. We’ve a few other boltholes scattered throughout the palace.”

“And you’ve been hidden here throughout?”

Mauda pressed grim lips in Qui-Gon’s direction. He supposed it might have been a smile, were the face it belonged to less dour. 

“We’ve been resisting here, most of us Dusters from day one. The tinheads are stupid,” she sniffed. “They’ve never found the tunnels and staff ways.”

Qui-Gon looked impressed; not an easy feat by any means. “Using the maintenance corridors was ingenious. With stone so thick, their sensors had no chance of penetrating.” 

She shrugged [elephantly]. “They haven’t yet, at least. We'll be ready when they do.” 

“How many are you? Are you armed?” 

“Damn right we’re armed,” came an interjection. The lanky ginger teenager who had been on guard duty with Mauda finally spoke up, seemingly having taken offence to the way he glanced doubtfully at the blasters at their sides. Puffing up, she looked nothing so much as an offended heron, all elbows and knees. “But there’s been skirmishes in the Gilded Wing and along the colonnades. Most of ours who are gassed went for a supply run and to kriff with the gearheads.”

“We’re forty-three in number, twenty-some armed,” said Mauda, answering his question.

“All palace staff?” asks Obi-Wan, still boggling.

“Some came from surrounding areas looking for safety,” Mauda said, “or who were caught outside. Lii-Shen here was one such.”

Hearing eir name, Lii-Shen looked up from the crate ee had been pawing through to lift eir brows at Mauda. Ee thumped eir fourth finger to sternum a couple of times. 

Mauda returned the motion, lips quirking as Lii-Shen returned to eir hunt. “Couldn’t have been on Naboo long, we think. Unlucky, that.”

Turning back to meet their quizzical looks, Mauda snorted, “You’ve not spent much time on Naboo, have you? It’s a local sign. Means alright, all good.” She thumped out the sign one more time for emphasis. 

“I see,” said Qui-Gon, and Obi-Wan thought he spoke of more than local hand signs. He surveyed Bent Neck Camp and Lii-Shen critically.

As conversation paused between them, Mauda gazed out over the shapes of her people around the room. On closer inspection, Qui-Gon sensed from her a great sadness. Given her stony features, its poignancy surprised him. 

“We were sixty-some at our greatest,” she said like someone musing to herself.

“You have our condolences.” Obi-Wan bowed his head along with his Master’s. Mauda sniffed, apparently through with any temporary softness.

“We don’t want condolences, we want this to end! What use are two Jedi to Naboo when she’s crawling with droids and Neimoidiens?”

“Much, we hope,” said Qui-Gon plainly. “We’ve come accompanying Her Majesty’s contingent and the Gungan army in liberating the palace, Theed, and–hopefully–all of Naboo.”

For the first time since meeting her, Mauda’s tight face unfurled like an unclenching fist. 

“Liberate!” She exclaimed. Without the deep frown lines, Qui-Gon reckoned her age downward half a decade or more. “But how?” 

At the same time, her young companion exclaimed, “We’ll fight!” She yanked the blaster from her hip with burning eyes and stepped closer, almost beseeching. “Let us fight with you!”

“Nanyi!” Mauda snapped before either could reply. “Put that away. If you’re not about to use it, it shouldn’t be in your hand.”

“Mom!”

“We are to remain here,” Mauda said through tight lips. “Don’t forget yourself. Protecting our people is more important than fool glory. Holster. Now.”

Wilting visibly at the reprimand as what little of her face visible under the grime reddened almost to match the hanks of hair that fell about it, Nanyi did as ordered. Reaching over to take her arm with a brisk hand, Mauda delicately wiped the hair falling into her face back under her bonnet’s soft material where it belonged, then irrefutably pressed Nanyi back a step behind her shoulder. 

She squared said shoulders at the Jedi. 

“If you need fighters, ours aren’t here. And we here can’t fight for you.”

Lii-Shen, having returned to their sides with two small hydro packets, bristled seemingly on their behalf. Qui-Gon lifted a placating hand. “We would not ask you to do so, nor I think do we need it. The skirmishes and unrest you mentioned,” he addressed to Nanyi. “Queen Amidala’s forces are fighting as we speak and have already managed to free dozens of pilots. They’ve taken to the skies in hopes of destroying the droid control ship.”

Painfully hopeful and clearly trying not to show it, Nanyi asked, “You think they could take it out?” 

Qui-Gon nodded and pretended not to see the teenager slip her dust gray hand into her mother’s.

“All we ask is for a guide through the maintenance corridors to the Guard’s hangar.”

Mauda cocked a shrewd brow. “Not up to the main corridors? Yes, yes,” she waved away both of their opening mouths. “With a wound like that, it’s no wonder you’d like to avoid any patrols.”

Having kept his arm casually pressed into his side this entire time, Qui-Gon hadn’t thought his state obvious. His already stellar impression of Mauda’s capabilities rose further. Rather than say so, he bowed his head with a wry quirk of his lips. 

“We would be in your debt.”

Her own mouth twitched reluctantly before she turned. Lingering uncertainly there, Lii-Shen looked like a sooty shadow. Mauda looked em over critically.

“You know the way to Skip Camp,” she said in broad tones, moving hands and face in exaggerated mimery with her meaning. It was the first moment either Jedi became aware that Lii-Shen's shortness sprang as much from a lack of fluency as from eir wound. Lii-Shen nodded anyway.

Qui-Gon frowned. “Is there no one else? Lii-Shen was injured coming to my aid. I don’t think–”

“There’s no one,” Mauda said bluntly, eyes flat. “It’s not a limb or an eye, and seeing as we’ve been out of bacta for nearly two weeks they have been better cared for than any of our others.”

Now it was Qui-Gon’s turn to frown. Obi-Wan could sense how little he liked her answer. Following his Master’s gaze, cataloguing burn and bruises and burst capillaries, Obi-Wan was inclined to agree. Yet besides a pair of prodigiously dirty bare feet, no new revelations leapt out at him. If being thrown had harmed em, it hadn’t shown itself at least.

At length, Qui-Gon sighed. They had few other options, and could feel in the Force that things were not over.

“I see.”

Mauda searched his expression, her own inscrutable as a cliff face, before she said, “They’re a tough one. Have to be, with what they lived through. Now get going, and if you see our Dusters out there, let ‘em know we’re well.”

Seen off as smartly as by a palace drill sergeant, Lii-Shen, Qui-Gon, and Obi-Wan set off. 

The new corridor they took was no wider than the first, and if they weren't before quickly Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon found themselves coated in the same dingy layer as the palace resistance.

The second leg of their trip was over almost before it had begun. Between twists and turns Lii-Shen stopped along an inconspicuous stretch of tunnel. Obiwan was about to ask, only to be struck mute when the wall slid noiselessly open, releasing a tidal wave of sound.

Fighters screamed from the open hangar gates just over the heads of resistance fighters engaged in a standoff against contingents of armed droids. As their small group darted from the service entrance, blaster bolts zipped out from what seemed all directions, yipping in high chorus. From cover behind a pile of durasteel crates it was clear to see that the Resistance, while holding strong, was vastly outnumbered.

Squadrons of droids cluttered the various entrances at the far end, cutting off any chance of retreat or reinforcements on foot. While the bottleneck created by the doorways temporarily held them back and the many scattered and sparking chassis across the floors spoke to the ferocity of the palace fighters, here and there between sparking metal were the clear shapes of the fallen. Too many.

Yet even as the two Jedi did what they could to signal for Lii-Shen to stay here and loped towards the nearest ingress to provide cover, the air shifted.

A moment later it was broken by a concussive blast that, sweeping in through the hangar doors, bowled many from their feet. Having felt the warning in the Force a moment before impact, master and apprentice just managed to crouch low and brace. 

This meant they were still upright to see the first wave of droids buckle. Those closest fell only to reveal their fellows behind also toppling, and the ones behind those. With growing momentum, the stone around them rang then clattered with the din of metal as it struck the ground, until the whole world seemed blotted by the tremendous sound. Just as suddenly as it began, it ceased. As if their strings had been cut, every droid within the palace had collapsed.

A confused cry rang out from the remaining fighters. Those who had frozen in shock or wonder were quickly shaken awake by the excited hands of friends and allies. Steadily, the calls of alarm became those of shocked triumph. 

For the two Jedi, there came in the Force a sense like a great sigh released.

Having extended their sabers in preparation, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon slowed, then stopped altogether. Taking in the chaos as confusion steadily slipped into raucous elation, the pair extinguished their sabers with shared rueful grins.

“I suppose they didn't need us after all,” said Obi-Wan. 

Qui-Gon opened his mouth to reply something equally dry, only to have his attention pulled away by a tug at his sleeve. 

Lii-Shen grinned up at him, eir white teeth as shocking the second time. With the rising noise, Qui-Gon couldn't hear whatever ee managed to whisper.

He leaned until they were nearer in height. “Say again?”

This time Lii-Shen spoke almost in his ear. 

“Anakin.” 

They hadn't found time before, but it had remained near the forefront of his mind all this time. Even so, his mouth fell open to be so surprised again.

“What?”

“Droids dead.” All the hair stood on his neck as he followed eir pointed finger towards the hangar gates, where fighters streamed in for their berths. “Anakin - come back - soon,” ee repeated with a blazing grin, then flitted off into the building crowd.

Dumbstruck Qui-Gon stared after em, watching em find a dirty figure amongst the heave of bodies to clasp in a hug.

“Master?”

Qui-Gon shook his head at his apprentice’s questioning tone.

“Let’s find the boy,” was all he said. Despite the elation surrounding him, he felt something was off. He recalled the massive shift in the Force that had cost him his concentration, and quite nearly his life, and frowned. “Come on. Let’s search the hangar and surrounding corridors.”

When the two Jedi couldn’t find young Anakin and the fighter he had been hiding in, nor any other bolthole he might be waiting in, Qui-Gon commented on the conspicuous absence of the fighter and the R2 droid. 

“He wouldn’t,” Obi-Wan groaned. “He’s nine!”

Qui-Gon simply chuckled, shaking his head.

“I believe I heard similarly ill-adviced tales about a certain initiate. Mark me, that boy’s a pilot to his bones,” he reminded Obi-Wan. It wasn't an excuse, but a deeply held conviction, despite knowing Anakin for so short a time. Yet in his mind, Qui-Gon was seeing a finger pointed towards the hangar gates. He couldn't shake the sense of something being wrong. Regardless, they settled in to wait for his return.

“Master Jinn!”

Some minutes later upon the Queen’s approach the two Jedi sense something is amiss. The pall of distress proceeds her entourage in the Force.

“Your Majesty?” 

Qui-Gon addresses his words to the resplendent figure of Queen Amidala in her ceremonial finery, but his eyes flicker momentarily to the white-faced handmaiden at her side. 

The Padmé that approached them with quick strides, while mussed, was uninjured to the naked eye. As she neared, however, it became clear that it was worry and not victory which lit there. She looked the two Jedi over in a half second, and her face fell.

Whereas the figural Queen– Sabé, he believes– is suspiciously bright eyed, Padmé does nothing to hide the tears gathering in her eyes. Qui-Gon's heart sinks prophetically.

She says only one thing. “Anakin.”

*

Anakin didn’t return.