Tumgik
#anakin x f!reader smut
hanasnx · 10 months
Text
MINORS DNI 18+
“Are you cumming right now? Are you fucking cumming right now, pretty girl?” ANAKIN SKYWALKER taunts you, winded from effort as he’s fucking your cunt stupid. He can feel your warmth flooding around him, plugged up and oozing with each sheath into you. Knowing you’re finishing— finishing from nothing but how he’s battering your insides into the shape of his cock— he starts fucking you harder. As he holds the bunched up hem of his top on his abdomen by his fist, you can see every gorgeous roll his hips, how it travels down the muscle in his torso. And you can’t even say shit about it with your mouth occupied with curse after curse, tummy lurching from your powerful release. You can hear his amusement as he teases you with sick glee, obviously proud that he can make you do this with just his cock. “You’re fucking cumming on my dick right now. Are you serious? Just like that?”
2K notes · View notes
erinkeifer · 10 months
Text
Forbidden Fruit
[Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!Fem Reader]
Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3
Summary: Anakin returns early from a mission and accidentally overhears your conversations with your friends who showed up for a girls' night at your place. Well... Your rather dirty conversations.
Tumblr media
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI | smut | v unprotected sex | hair pulling | kissing | cursing | dom!Anakin | sub!Reader Word Count: 3,8k
Anakin knew you deserved a break - a week ago, it was your birthday, and you really wanted to meet up with your friends from the 'good old times' to have a bit of fun. Unfortunately, it seemed out of the question - at least until today - as you both were constantly being assigned on missions that required the presence of both of you. But, for once, luck smiled upon you. Yes, Skywalker took it upon himself and headed to Geonosis with his crew, so that you could, at least once, invite anyone over and break away from the wartime reality. You and the other three girls completely lost track of time once you settled into your snug but cozy room. By this time, the only things around you were empty pizza boxes and champagne glasses, which seemed to loosen you up even more. Some bland romantic comedy played on your Holo TV, serving as a quiet backdrop to your ongoing conversations, although some of you occasionally glanced at it. "Do any of you even know what's going on in this?" you asked, sprawled on the couch, reaching for the popcorn bowl surrounded by a definite mess. "Honestly? No idea." replied the Togruta on your right, causing you to snort because apparently, each of you was equally absorbed in the movie. After a while, each of you jumped at the sound of the communicator from one of your friends. "Damn, sorry, forgot to mute…" apologized your childhood friend, engrossed in the conversation. "Who's calling so persistently?" you asked, reaching for another handful of popcorn. "Rob, probably afraid I won't make it straight home." she replied, this time disabling notifications. "It's kind of sweet that he's so worried." said the Twi'lek girl sitting farthest from you. "Sure, but lately, there's been a bit going on in our area, so he's unusually sensitive." your friend replied. "Wait, you two live together?" you asked with wide eyes. "Yes, for about three months now." she replied, and you grabbed your head. "Damn, being with you feels like I'm regressing." you said, slumping onto the sofa's back. In the meantime, the end credits of the movie were already rolling on your Holo TV, and none of you were paying attention. You decided to turn off the flickering screen to focus on the conversation with your friends. A conversation that unfolded in blissful unawareness of the fact that your Master had just returned to your place - or rather, to the very short corridor that separated your two rooms. Anakin closed the door behind him, and with nowhere else to hurry, he leisurely hung his coat on the rack. With deliberate steps, he made his way to his room, hearing through the wall that your Girls' Night was still in full swing. "I can't believe that sometimes you don't want to break free and have some fun... All this 'Code' of yours... Damn, you used to be a different girl..."
"And how do you know I don't want to? I mean, sometimes, it feels like we could wither away here... But, you know, on the other hand, we've all changed in a way."
"Sure, sure... When we talk about guys, you react like a bull to a red flag... Come on, admit it - but honestly - when was the last time you touched a guy? Any guy?"
The girls' conversations were loud enough and clearly audible through the thin walls of your room that Anakin could stand at any point in the corridor and hear them perfectly. He wasn't particularly concerned with your discussions - he happened to be tinkering with his lightsaber when you carelessly continued your conversation.
"Two years? So, exactly since they dragged you into this Order."
"No shit."
"Don't you miss it? Seriously?"
"Do you really want to hear it, huh?"
"Perhaps...?" "Honestly? Yes - I'm pissed that you're allowed this, and I'm not. And yes - I dream of getting fucked hard. Just like that, plain and simple."
Well, Anakin stood frozen in the frame of his room door when your words resonated in his ears, so he decided not to close the door behind him just yet.
"That sounds better. If you wanted it, you would've gotten it a long time ago, right?"
"I don't know…"
"So why don't you want to break free from here?"
"I DON'T KNOW!"
"We know a few cool places in the city that would let you unwind, and a few cool guys who… You know."
"Girls, but you know it's not that simple…"
"What's not simple? Sex? You said yourself you're needy, aren't you?"
"Hell yeah."
"So, what are we waiting for? Tomorrow then? Same time?"
"Hey, slow down… And maybe you know if Billy… You know… Is still around?"
"You want to mess around with your ex? What if feelings rekindle? After all, you're not allowed to have a boyfriend."
"Well, but he was…"
"Many times you said how well he fucked you senseless, but we're not considering that option. By the way, maybe you know someone in the Order who…"
"What? No…"
"And I think you're just setting yourself up like that… I don't believe everyone here is so saintly."
"Just believe me."
"[…]"
"Why are you making that face? What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing, nothing… Just thinking about who you share these quarters with…"
"Oh no."
"Oh yes."
"He's my Master, for heaven's sake…"
"And we saw him."
"So?"
"And the way you look at him."
"No."
"Yes."
"I'll kick you out of here in a moment."
"Do you like him?"
"He's my Master."
"But I'm asking if you like him."
"I like him, so what?"
"Nothing, I'm just testing the ground."
"Oh, shut up."
"Okay - short and to the point - either we meet tomorrow at the same time and head to the city, or you dry up in the Order."
"I don't know."
"Alright, then we're going on our own, right, girls?"
"Fine, damn it. If I make sure I have nothing to do, maybe we'll meet…"
"Great, girl…"
Anakin still stood frozen in his doorway, but as soon as he heard sounds indicating that the girls were getting ready to leave, he gently closed the door. Still slightly stunned by the amount and type of information he gained, he sat down at his desk.
"So, it seems like until tomorrow?" replied the Twi'lek, standing with the rest of the girls in front of you, on the straight path to the exit.
"Let it be." you responded with a slightly tired voice, waving to the girls who left the room with mischievous smiles on their faces.
As you bid farewell to your friends, you noticed Anakin's coat already hanging on the rack, realizing that you completely missed encoding the moment he returned. Honestly, you were too exhausted to think about it. Soon after, as if on cue, the door to his room opened, and you saw Skywalker, now dressed in his standard night attire. "Master." you nodded slightly in greeting because you hadn't seen each other today.
"H-hey… Is it over already?" Anakin replied, his gaze wandering somewhere on the floor.
"Yes, sorry it took so long." you answered, sensing that Skywalker was somehow brushing you off.
"Once doesn't always make a pattern. And you… Shouldn't you be sleeping already?" he added after a moment, scratching his head.
"I'm actually heading that way now." you replied, smiling nervously, and headed back to your room.
"Goodnight then." Anakin replied, walking in the opposite direction toward the small balcony at the end of the corridor, as he usually did at this time to smoke the last cigarette before sleep.
"Goodnight, Master." you said before closing your door. Then, throwing on a light nightgown, you collapsed onto your pillow-filled sofa. .................................................................................................................
Another day drained you of energy, yet you knew that there was still an unfulfilled promise from yesterday ahead of you – to 'chill out' with your friends. It was hard to think about it during the day, as you didn't even have time, having been on a mission with Anakin since morning… And precisely, you were on a mission with Anakin. While you weren't bothered by whether you were doing your tasks well or poorly today, something else bothered you – the strange behavior of your Master. He seemed absent the entire day. Sure, you cooperated with each other, but for some reason, you constantly felt like maybe you messed up, maybe at some point, you unintentionally let him down – and even though it was absurd because you were always considered a perfectionist in what you did – he gave off that impression to such an extent that even Obi-Wan, in a free moment, asked if you had some tension between you. Of course, you didn't. Anyway, you landed in Coruscant practically moments before your planned meeting with the girls – in the end, you agreed to meet in the city, so you didn't have to stress about whether they might knock on your door any minute. But ultimately, you forgot about one thing – mentioning to Anakin that you also planned to disappear for the evening today. However, since his arrival, he seemed so exhausted from the entire day that you assumed he would immediately fall asleep, allowing you to slip out of the Temple without any possible reproaches. It's just a pity that he remembered your plan all too well himself. "Why the hurry? Are you planning to race me or something?" Anakin asked, watching as you briskly walked down the corridor toward your quarters.
"Uhm, no." you replied sarcastically, already at the door. "I thought so." Anakin muttered, opening the entrance to your quarters. Knowing how little time you had left, you instantly stepped into your room, closing the door behind you to avoid arousing any suspicions, while Anakin left his completely open. He lingered in the corridor for a while, as if sniffing around, glanced out the window for a moment, but soon finally entered his room - that's when you allowed yourself to choose an outfit for the evening. However, it stressed you immensely that Skywalker hadn't gone to sleep yet - always after a mission, he used to close the door behind him and shortly afterward fell asleep, tired from the mission. But this time, something was holding him, and whether you wanted it or not, you could feel it. You freshened up your makeup from the entire day, dressed up, and it seemed like everything was ready - only to sense the right moment and leave… But how? You slightly opened the door to your room to better hear if Anakin was still aimlessly wandering around, and if there was silence outside indeed. Leaning out, you could catch a glimpse of his silhouette, turning slightly in the desk chair. Damn.
You could chat by the door for a little longer, but on the other hand, would prolonging it and leaving even later seem even more suspicious? Exactly. So, you took a deep breath, adjusted your dress to give the illusion that it reached a bit further than just halfway down your thighs. With one hand, you grabbed your coat to cover yourself a bit before leaving your room. You quickly checked yourself in the mirror and, satisfied that your appearance wouldn't raise any suspicions, decided to quietly, soundlessly step out of the quarters.
Slowly and quietly, you closed the door to your room, confident that everything was going according to plan, except for that one final damn slam of those steel doors. You cursed under your breath when you felt Anakin's gaze coming from his room.
"Oh? Where are you going?" he asked in a calm tone, and you turned towards him, nervously clutching your coat.
"Just… getting some fresh air… for a while... A walk." you uttered these absurd words, turning towards Anakin, only to see that he had turned in his chair completely towards you, with a highly doubtful but slightly amused look. It didn't seem like he was doing anything – his desk, usually cluttered with documents and writing tools, was now completely empty. It appeared he was just sitting there idly, as if waiting for some signal.
"My Padawan is going for a walk… Tsk, tsk, tsk…" he murmured as if to himself, and your face turned red with embarrassment, realizing how clumsily you had just lied.
"We've known each other for a while now, you don't have to lie to me like that." Anakin raised an eyebrow and smirked, realizing that you, yourself, know you're not very good at pulling the wool over his eyes. "I know." you leaned against the wall, crossing your arms, wondering how to get out of this.
"So, what's the truth?" Anakin asked again, also crossing his arms in a slightly assessing manner. "Ehh, yesterday I told the girls that I would go out with them." you finally gave in but still hesitated to reveal all the details.
"You told the girls, but you didn't tell me. So what?" In fact, you didn't know how to answer that – you realized you made a mistake and wouldn't easily undo it.
"How did you know I wouldn't need you for something?" he added after a while, not hearing a response from you.
"But in the end, I have the evening off, so I thought…" "No, you don't have the evening off." Anakin interrupted you, and then the smile on his face faded. The tension in you increased when you noticed his freezing expression – it seemed like he might actually be a bit upset.
"Come." Anakin commanded, rising from his office chair and leaning against the desk. Initially, you thought he was going to ask you to sit in that spot, so you nervously grabbed the seat handle.
"No, not here. In front of me." you were slightly embarrassed, but you did as he instructed – stood in front of him.
"Show me what you've got there." he said after scrutinizing you from top to bottom.
"What do you mean?" you squinted, having no idea what he was referring to.
"Don't try to play games with me. I can see how tightly you're holding onto that coat of yours." and again, he was right – probably if you were more relaxed, you wouldn't need to explain yourself so much now. You loosened your grip, but you weren't entirely sure what to do with what you had.
"Just take it off." he added after a while, seeing your hesitation to answer his questions. You sighed, realizing that your plans had gone down the drain, so you did as he said – it seemed like you had nothing more to lose at this point. At worst, you would leave this room with a reprimand, change, and go to bed. And that's the optimistic version. When the coat landed rolled up on the floor, it was time for Anakin to sigh. You stood before him in a black, brocade dress, which, despite all your efforts, managed to scrunch back up to mid-thigh height.
"Girls' night out…" Anakin muttered under his breath, once again assessing you from head to toe. "You're very careless, aren't you? Today, yesterday…"
"Wait, what do you mean yesterday? What are you talking about?" you interrupted Anakin, and he looked at you as if you were a bit foolish. "Oh, please… Do you think I'm unaware of your plan? What would you have done if you received a summons while being fucked by some random guy?" Anakin replied, and you paled, quickly trying to recall what else you discussed with the girls yesterday. Your voice stuck in your throat, and truth be told, you had never felt so embarrassed in front of your Master.
"How you… When did you…" "I returned early enough to hear about many interesting facts. Among other things, about how my Padawan wants to be fucked hard, and also… Oh, didn't you mention having a boyfriend - Billy… Supposedly, very skilled." Anakin said with a mocking tone, and you felt like sinking into the ground.
"But, but… I…" "Oh, don't worry, I won't throw you out for that. It was just about one simple thing - informing me." Anakin finally moved slowly from his place, and temporarily unable to look him in the eyes due to shame, you turned away. At first glance, it might have seemed that Anakin had tidied up around him - it was quite unnatural because usually, his workspace was messy - but when you approached and looked around better, you noticed that all the items from his desk were lying next to it, thrown on the floor. "Why is everything sca...?" you abruptly interrupted your statement when you heard the door slam behind you. "Still want to go out? I know, they're probably waiting for you…" "N-no… I don't want to." you answered, for some reason not wanting to turn towards Anakin.
"Oh…" you heard behind you, along with steps approaching in your direction. "Well, you know, not everything can be found just in the city." you stayed silent as you listened to his words, feeling that he was getting closer. "Your friends were right - sometimes it's better to look closer to home… After all, as they say, it's darkest under the lamppost. Isn't it?" You wanted to interrupt him, but in the end, everything you could say now would be pointless.
"And the desk… I prepared it for you." You froze when you first felt the handle on your hips, and then how you pressed against the edge of the desk. "Master…" you murmured, completely paralyzed by his touch. "What? Changed your mind?" he whispered into your ear, not releasing his grip on your hips. "No… I-I haven't changed my mind." you continued, as one of your hands landed on top of his.
"Make sure I'm not mistaken." he continued to whisper, and you stood still for a moment before deciding what to do next. You grabbed the lower edges of your dress and, with trembling hands, pulled it up, exposing your black, scanty lingerie that you chose for the evening. "My sweet, innocent Padawan…" he whispered with an artificially tender voice as his hands traveled downward, this time embracing your exposed thighs. "To think that it took so little, and someone random could have gotten this..." he continued as his left hand balanced on the edge of your panties. "Am I supposed to understand that you bought them for this 'special occasion'?" he muttered, his gaze sinking onto your lace lingerie. "Uhm, well, actually, I got them from…" you winced and clenched your teeth as you felt a strong pull and the tearing of the fabric, which partially clung to your most sensitive areas. "That's what I thought." Skywalker replied, tossing aside your torn panties. "Lean on the desk and arch your back… Nice and wide for me." Your heart pounded as a hammer hearing his hunger-laden instructions, but you didn't hesitate for a moment to comply with them. "Let's see…" you heard behind you before feeling the touch of hands on your folds, sending shivers down your spine. "So fuckin' wet…" he muttered, and you could practically feel his devilish grin. You turned your head enough to see him—your cheeks reddening even more at the sight of him licking his two fingers and his other hand reaching for the zipper. "Want to watch?" Anakin asked, noticing your intrigued, hungry eyes. "Then watch." He caught you off guard, pressing you even harder against the desk, and without any warning, he entered you.
You let out a short, loud moan as you felt him slide into you practically the entire length without any warm-up. You didn't get to see him in full glory, but you felt that his size was above average, perhaps even a bit beyond your capabilities, but you were resilient. Anakin grabbed your thigh with his mechanical, gloved hand to give himself more room to position you as he pleased, bringing his face closer to yours. The deeper he delved into his movements within you, the more you felt him breathing heavily through clenched teeth. Your eyes were closed, and you felt him all over your body – he was charged like never before, and the more you realized it, the more beastly his movements became.
"Is this h-how you wanted to be filled?" he whispered into your ear, interrupting with each thrust. You couldn't answer – your voice was stuck in your throat, and all you could emit were your desperate moans. "Fuck… My little, slutty Padawan." he growled, increasing his pace, and with each deep thrust, your eyes rolled into back of your head. You thought that was a lot, but you were quickly surprised when one of his hands detached from your body and, without warning, grabbed a handful of your hair tightly. You moaned loudly as your neck tilted backward, and Anakin's pupils dilated, keenly observing your every reaction. The dose of pain excited both of you – the harder his hips pounded into you, the tighter his strong hand gripped at the base of your hair.
You felt yourself approaching the edge, your subdued moans transforming into screams, and sensing your impending climax, Anakin yanked you by the hair enough to bring your face close to his, starting to leave wet, messy kisses on your lips and cheeks. He tasted your tears of arousal, biting you without rhythm, and you drifted further, teetering on the edge of a begged climax. You screamed his name as he fucked you through your orgasm, and as it turned out, you weren't even halfway when his breath also became uneven and heavy. He growled and panted heavily into your ear as he came inside you, and your trembling bodies simultaneously tried to find balance, holding onto each other tightly. He didn't pull out for some time, first allowing himself a moment to catch his breath, still not letting go of your heated body. "Fuck…" he muttered under his breath as he finally pulled out of you slowly, and you immediately felt hopelessly empty. Your knees buckled beneath you as you lost the support you had on Anakin so far, but he was there to catch you and stabilize you. "Slowly…" he whispered, smiling at you with the corners of his mouth – his face was tired and sweaty, yet incredibly content. When he lifted you into the air, you were sure he would handle you gently, but in the end, you miscalculated because he threw you onto his bed with quite some force. You swallowed saliva and looked up at him when you were already sprawled on his soft sheets. Anakin had a cocky smirk on his face, and his eyes scanned every inch of your exhausted body. "Now you know where to come when you want to get fucked, huh?"
1K notes · View notes
luminoustarlight · 11 months
Text
Saccharine | Modern!Anakin Skywalker
What do you get when you mix a college Halloween party with beer and a pretty girl wearing a pirate costume?
A jealous Anakin Skywalker.
rating: explicit | pairing: anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 5.3k | read on ao3 warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, drinking, jealousy/possessiveness, SMUT [fingering, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected p in v, come eating/swallowing, mild degradation, like a really brief moment of lactation kink(???)]
the lovely @queenie-official asked for someone to write anakin and reader at a halloween party and anakin gets jealous. i have no idea where 5.3k words came from but y'all i love this one!
and i dedicate this to @hanasnx because we were talking about how we would suck anakin's dick every day if we could.
Tumblr media
Here’s the thing about Halloween parties— or rather, Halloween and parties.
Anakin hates both of them. Halloween is a stupid holiday where girls wear short skirts, low-cut tank tops, and a pair of generic animal ears and call it a “costume”. Then they complain about being cold and ask for your jacket. It’s fucking October in New York, what do they expect? 
As for parties, Anakin has never liked them. He’s not a particularly social person. Hell, he’s not even that pleasant of a person but he somehow wound up with you as his best friend in college. He’s the grumpy to your sunshine. He’s a pessimist, you’re an optimist. He drinks black coffee, you like it full of syrupy caramel. He hates everything you like and you don’t understand any of the things he finds fascinating.
The logistics of your friendship is complicated. You don’t know why Anakin is the easiest person for you to talk to even though you have just about nothing in common. You don’t know why Anakin chooses to spend all of his time with you, even though there are other girls in his engineering classes who would kill to talk to him about their shared major. 
You don’t know why he holds your hand when you walk through Central Park while telling you about his hookups. (You wish he wouldn’t talk about other girls with you but you just like the sound of his voice so you do your best at drowning out the meaning of the words). 
If only he knew how miserable it makes you feel to hear about his dating life. If only you knew how difficult it is for you to do the same because every single guy is lack-luster compared to Anakin.    
“I hate parties,” Anakin states. He’s tossing a baseball— the foul ball he caught for you at a Yankees game— in the air to keep his hands busy.
“Yeah, but you love me,” you reply while taking a cream flowy blouse out of your closet. 
“Not if you make me go to this stupid Halloween party with you.” 
You roll your eyes and rest your shirt hanger on one of the knobs on your dresser. You catch the baseball midair and flop beside Anakin on your bed. He props up on an elbow and you just want to soothe the crease between his eyebrows. “Pleaaaase, Ani?” 
“No.” 
“Oh, c’mon! When’s the last time you did something for me?” 
“Look around, sweetheart,” Anakin gestures his arm out lazily. “I helped you move into this place.” 
You huff. “Okay, fine. But you offered. And if I recall correctly, I supplied you with all of the coffee and bagels your heart desired.” 
“There’s only one thing my heart desires.” A lopsided grin forms on Anakin’s lips as his fingers brush against your elbow. It’s a barely there type of touch, one you might not even notice if it weren’t for the sparks you feel every time you and Anakin make contact. 
You fail to mask the sharp intake of air that passes through your teeth. “Wh-what’s that?” 
Anakin runs his tongue over his bottom lip and you think maybe, maybe he just might say what you want him to say. Your heart expands with hope as you await his answer with a bated breath. “To not go to a fucking Halloween party.” 
And just like that, your hope deflates. Of course he wasn’t being serious. Why does his blatant disinterest in you make tears threaten behind your eyes? Is your affectionate friendship really so common that it doesn’t mean anything to him?   
You quickly stand up from your bed and distract yourself by finding the skirt you want to wear in your pile of clothes on the floor. You clear your throat and rapidly blink back any tears before they fall down your cheeks. “Fine,” you say as you find your skirt. “I don’t want you there anyway. It’s the senior Halloween party and I’m not going to miss it because of you.”
“Fine,” Anakin says back. “Go. I don’t care.” 
You gather your clothes in your arms and stand at the foot of your bed. “I have to get dressed first.” 
“So?” Anakin is back to throwing the baseball in the air. Oh, you hate him so much sometimes. You swat the ball out of the air so it lands on Anakin’s stomach, making him groan and his legs curl up to his chest. “Ow.” 
 “So, get out,” you instruct. 
“Jeez. Alright, alright.” Anakin slowly gets up from your bed, being the overly dramatic douche you had to fall in love with. “What, they didn’t put enough sugar in your coffee this morning?” 
“Out!” you point to your door. You’re fuming with him. Why does he have to be so fucking difficult? At this point, you don’t even want to go to the party but you’ll go anywhere to get away from him. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 
You take a good thirty minutes to get ready for the party. Inspired by a recent rewatch of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, you decided to dress up as a pirate. You didn’t have to buy a shirt or skirt, which helped keep the cost down. You did purchase a corset, hat, and knee high boots from a thrift store in Brooklyn. With the crimson scarf you’ve had since freshman year wrapped around your waist, you’re set. 
Anakin waits for you on your aubergine couch in your living room. Why he’s waiting, you’re unsure. He’s stretched across the entire length of the couch, his long legs hanging over the armrest. Upon hearing your boots scuff across the floor, he quickly locks his phone and stands from the couch. 
“What are you still doing here?” you brush past him and into the kitchen. 
“I changed my mind,” Anakin replies, following you. You don’t notice the way he looks you up and down, soaking in the entire image of you. The scoopy neckline of your shirt, the flounce of your brown skirt, and the tightness of the corset. The only thing he’s disappointed by is the length of your skirt. It’s not short enough. 
Still, there’s no way he’s letting you go to the party alone. Somebody has to pretend to be your protective boyfriend to keep the college douchebags away. “I’m going with you.” 
You turn around without realizing how close Anakin is to you. You practically step on his toes. He looms over you and you fear he might actually hear your heart racing with how close he is. You back away, straightening your skirt for no other reason than to not look at Anakin. “Are you, now?” 
“Yes.” Anakin crosses his arms. “Are you ready?” 
“You’re going like that?” You counter. “In a zip-up Yankees hoodie?” 
“Take it or leave it, sweetheart.” 
You hate him. You love him. You hate that you love him because you know he doesn’t feel the same way. At least not in a romantic way. You grab a banana off of the counter and march toward the door. “I’d rather leave you here.” 
“Not an option.” Anakin closes your door and uses his key to lock it. The act of him using the key you gave him for emergencies makes your insides twist. It’s on a ring with his own apartment key, as if he’d need yours as frequently as he needs his own. 
You walk down the hallway with a quick pace and make a point to stomp down the stairs, even if it annoys your neighbors more than Anakin. “You’re being exceptionally annoying today.” 
“Thank you,” Anakin accepts the insult as if it’s a compliment. He holds the lobby door open for you and a rush of late October air attacks your skin. You have to hold your hat on your head so it doesn’t blow away. You make an effort not to shudder in front of Anakin, knowing how much he hates girls being unprepared for the weather. At least you’re wearing long sleeves. But it’s not not like the fabric was made to keep the Autumn chill out. 
The party is only a couple of blocks away in Hell’s Kitchen and you’re determined to stay silent all the way there. You’ll just eat your banana and pray Anakin isn’t in a rare talking mood. 
“Why are you walking so fucking fast? I have longer legs than you and I’m practically running.” 
You ignore him. You just want to go to the party, have a couple of drinks, maybe flirt with some guys you have no intentions of screwing, and then go home. Preferably without the puppy dog currently following you. 
“So. Pirate. Interesting choice. You got a thing for Jack Sparrow or something?” Why does he never have anything interesting to say when you actually want to talk to him? Now he can’t seem to shut up. 
Just one more block. Why did he change his mind? Why couldn’t he just be content with going back to his apartment and finding someone to hook up with? You’re sure that’s what he was doing while you were getting ready. The way he locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket when he heard you come out of your room. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like you two are dating or anything. He doesn’t have to hide his booty calls from you. 
“I see what you’re doing,” Anakin jogs in front of you and starts walking backwards. “You’re ignoring me.” 
You give him a look that has “No shit, Sherlock” written all over it. 
“Y’know I don’t like being ignored. I’m too sensitive.” 
You have to laugh. “You? Sensitive?” 
“Ha!” Anakin points at you. “Gotcha.” 
“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “We’re here, anyway. I know you’re just gonna find a corner and sulk in it so please, just let me have a good time tonight.” 
“Alright,” Anakin surrenders. You walk into the brick building together, the heavy bass of the music thrumming through your bones. “But just one thing.” 
You raise your brows, waiting for him to continue. “You look beautiful tonight.” 
Your heart skips a beat and you hate how easily he makes you swoon. How easily your feelings of irritation disappear after one compliment. “Just tonight?” 
“Ah- what?” Anakin looks at you quizzically. Perhaps he didn’t hear you over the booming music and chatter. 
“Never mind!” you shout. “I’m gonna get a drink. You want a beer?” 
“Sure,” Anakin shrugs. You nod and skip off without another word. When you don’t come back after twenty minutes, Anakin starts to worry. It doesn’t matter how many girls have come up to him and batted their lashes at him. It doesn’t matter that he has 11 unread messages from several past hookups waiting for him on his phone. What matters is that you’re alone at a college party with booze and guys who get a little too handsy when they’re drunk. 
He pushes himself through the crowd, not an ounce of care that he’s severely undressed and out of place. Actually, he’s overdressed. He didn’t know the fire marshal could allow so many shirtless ‘Gladiators’ in one building. And here he thought only girls used Halloween as an excuse not to wear anything. He bumps into several people on his quest for you. 
“Hey, man! Watch it!” 
“Yo, dickhead, you made me spill my beer!” 
“What are you supposed to be? A sad Yankees fan?” 
Anakin hardly hears any of it. Actually, everything seems to fall silent when he spots you. Every other body blurs as he focuses on you and your hand on the forearm of some guy dressed as Captain Kirk from Star Trek. At least he has a goddamn shirt on. It doesn't make the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach disappear, though. You know why? It’s because you’re throwing your head back with laughter. Real, genuine laughter. What is this guy saying to you? And why hasn’t Anakin made you laugh like that recently? 
When the familiar figure of Anakin approaches you, you instantly feel bad. You forgot to bring him his beer! And then you realize that you actually handed it to the guy you’re talking to. Oops? 
“Ani! I never brought you your beer! I am so sorry. I got distracted talking to- oh my God, I don’t even know your name!” 
“Oh, uh, Jeff,” the guy tilts his beer bottle toward you and smiles. You smile back and tell him your name. You also introduce Anakin, but he’s not feeling very friendly right now. He’s too busy criticizing the way Captain Kirk introduced himself. 
Oh, uh, Jeff? He had to think about his name? He couldn’t just say Jeff? 
“Jeff and I were talking about baseball. He’s a Mets fan, though,” you fake gag. “I told him about the foul ball you practically saved me from. Whew, my life flashed before my eyes.” 
“Yeah, they come out of nowhere when you’re not paying attention.” 
Anakin hates this guy. He fucking hates him. His fists clench by his side before sidling up next to you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist. You stumble when he pulls you toward him. “She was paying attention. Are you implying that she wasn’t watching the game?” 
“Anakin, it’s fine,” you place your hand on Anakin’s chest to calm him. “I’m sure that’s not what Jeff meant.” 
“Yeah, man, not at all. I’ve had a couple of close calls myself.” 
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve been hit in the head a couple of times with the way you introduced yourself,” Anakin spits. “Who has to think about their name? ‘Oh, um, I can’t remember. I think my name is Jeff,’” Anakin mocks.  
“Anakin, stop,” you try pushing away from him. “You’re being incredibly rude.” 
“I don’t care,” he replies. He begins ushering you away from Walmart Captain Kirk. “We’re leaving.” 
“Seriously, Anakin,” you manage to slither out of Anakin’s grasp. “Stop it.” 
“Hey, is this guy bothering you?” Jeff puffs out his chest. 
Anakin steps in front of you and squares himself in front of the guy with no chance with you. “Funny, I was going to ask her the same thing about you.” 
“Are you her boyfriend or something?” 
“He’s not-” you begin, standing on your toes to talk over Anakin’s shoulder. 
“Something like that,” Anakin answers. Huh? 
“Whatever,” Jeff scoffs. “Thanks for wasting my time.” 
“Wait, Jeff!” you call. “It’s not like that-” 
“Let him go,” Anakin grits. “He’s not worth it.” 
You had almost forgotten about the frustration Anakin made you feel in your apartment. Now it’s all coming to the surface again. Yes, you feel bad for abandoning him and not bringing him his beer but he had no right to ruin your conversation like that. “Oh, and you are?”
“We’re not talking about this here.” Anakin turns and expects you to follow. You have half a mind not to scream at him in the middle of the party but it would be a waste of breath. He’s already nearing the door. You down the rest of your beer and follow Anakin out of the party and onto the street. 
It feels drastically colder outside but perhaps it’s all coming from Anakin’s stare. You stuff your hands beneath your arms in an attempt to keep them warm. “What the hell, Anakin? What was that all about?” 
“Nothing.” 
“I’m sorry, did you just say ‘nothing’? That was not nothing, Anakin. That was… that was…” you search for the word but your toes are starting to freeze. You don’t know how frozen toes correlate to not being able to think, but it does. The wind is biting at your legs and your teeth are chattering. 
“Jealousy?” Anakin fills in the blank. 
“Yes! Jealousy! Are you fucking jealous, Anakin?” 
“So what if I am?” 
You’re both shouting unnecessarily but you’re fucking pissed. This cannot be the way you admit your feelings for each other. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. It’s supposed to be romantic. It’s supposed to happen when you’re strolling through the park and the leaves are falling around you and you kiss and everything falls into place. It’s not supposed to happen during a screaming match on the sidewalk while you’re dressed like a historically inaccurate pirate. 
“So what if I feel like punching every single guy who talks to you? Or even look at you? Hm?” Anakin is backing you into the wall and you have no choice but to retreat. “I am jealous every fucking day. I feel possessive over you and I know I shouldn’t. You’re mine, even though you’re not.” Anakin has caged you in with his arms pressed against the wall above your head. His leg is nudged between yours and if you just lower yourself a tiny bit, you might feel a bit of friction where it’s needed. 
Anakin drops his head down so his nose brushes against your cheek. Your lips are so close, you can feel the warmth of his breath. “You never asked me,” you whisper. 
“What?” 
“You never asked me to be yours,” you unzip Anakin’s sweatshirt and slide your arms into the warmth of his jacket. You press yourself against his chest and you think perhaps everything is falling into place.
“Then I’m asking you now,” Anakin cradles your face in his hands. He runs his thumbs over your cheekbones and wonders why it took so damn long to finally get to this point. “Will you be mine?” 
“I already am.” You pull Anakin down to your lips by the collar of his sweatshirt. He tastes like Altoids and you taste like beer, which isn’t necessarily a pleasant combination but it doesn’t matter. Anakin’s lips are so plush and soft, everything you dreamed they’d be but better. They work against yours like it’s the only thing they’re made for. He’s groaning against you, slipping his tongue carefully past your lips. He’s not overzealous with it like some people are. It’s just perfect. He’s perfect. 
The heat in your core continues to grow and spread throughout your body, suddenly warming you up. “Anakin,” you murmur. 
“Hmm?” He replies, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. He pays attention to your neck—which smells of vanilla and everything nice— and is nibbling gently but kissing harshly. His hands have found their way to your breasts, massaging you through your bra and you just fucking wish he’d stop for a second because it’s all too distracting. 
“Anakin, stop,” you breathe out. 
“What? What, are you okay?” Anakin withdraws himself from you completely and you damn near whine at the loss of contact.
“I’m fine, Ani. More than fine.” 
Anakin relaxes at your assurance and takes a moment to admire you. Your hat is askew on your head and your shirt is crooked from him cupping with your boobs. He hopes the corset isn’t difficult to take off… 
“Anakin?” you snap your fingers in front of his face. 
“Huh?” 
“What are you thinkin’ about, pretty boy?” 
“So many things,” Anakin smirks.  
“Care to enlighten me at my apartment?” 
“Way ahead of you, babe.” Anakin whips out his phone and orders an Uber. He’s not walking five blocks back to your apartment with a hard-on. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 
You have no clue how either of you manage to keep your hands to yourself in the Uber, but you do. You hardly make it through your door before Anakin’s lips are back on yours with a heavy desperation. He throws your hat off, letting it land who knows where. His hand is on the back of your neck and you’re doing a clumsy dance around your living room. You’re tugging at the roots of his wavy hair, which he’s been growing out since last semester. 
You and Anakin are a mess of hands as you’re both trying to get the other’s clothes off with your mouths still attached to each other. He’s fumbling with the laces of your corset and you wonder how long it will take him to realize there’s a zipper in the back. 
You shrug off his sweatshirt, leaving him in a basic white tee. Anakin reluctantly breaks away from you when he accepts he’s getting nowhere with your corset. “This thing is fucking impossible,” he groans. 
You giggle as you draw the zipper down your back and remove the black corset from your body. You let it drop to the floor as you drape your arms around Anakin’s neck. “You were saying?” 
“I hate you,” Anakin says with a smile. 
“You love me.” 
“So much,” he replies, lips trailing down your neck once again. “I love you so much it consumes me. I’ve tried to fill this void inside of me with other women but it’s never enough. It’s not enough because they’re not you.”
You’re smiling so widely your cheeks hurt. You consume him. He loves you. You’ve never been happier. “I love you too, Anakin. You have no idea.”
“I have some idea,” he smiles. He grabs a fistful of your skirt and slips his hands beneath the hem to find your panties. “Are you going to let me take care of you tonight?” 
“Anything,” you nod, giving him the permission to remove your panties. You take off your boots and blouse and while it’s by no means a show, Anakin is enjoying every second of it. 
“I’ll let you do anything, Anakin.” You unclip your bra so all that you’re left in is your skirt. Anakin is still wearing a shirt and jeans, which is only mildly infuriating since his golden tan skin looks so radiant against the bright white of his shirt. 
As Anakin admires you, he can’t possibly be filled with any more lust than he is right now. Three years of pining after you is surging through his veins and his cock is insanely hard. He’s imagined this so many times. Would he fuck you slowly? Or maybe you’d rather have it fast and hard. Do you like to be called sweet things? Would you be his good girl? Or would you rather be his little slut? 
He’s overwhelmed with the incessant need to taste your cunt. “Get on the couch,” he instructs. “Take your skirt off, too. I want to see all of you.” 
You nod and once you’ve stepped out of the fabric, you situate yourself on your couch. Anakin kneels down in front of you and resists the urge to spread your legs open so he can see your pussy. “You have to take something off, too,” you say sweetly.  
Anakin swiftly tears his shirt over his head and you knew he was fit, but you just didn’t realize how fit. “Oh my God,” you practically drool. 
“Yeah?” Anakin smirks whilst hooking his arms beneath your thighs, pulling your ass to the edge of the couch. His cock strains against his jeans even more now that he can see your glistening pussy. “You like what you see, sweetheart?” 
You shrug. “Mm, yeah. It’s alright, I guess.” 
“You’re a little brat,” Anakin says before kissing up your thigh. The feather-light touch of his warm lips makes you wiggle. Your hand rests atop of Anakin’s head, fingers massaging his scalp in an effort to keep him traveling up to your core. “You’re lucky I can’t resist a pretty pussy like yours.” 
“Is it the prettiest?” 
Anakin lays a kiss on the inside of your other thigh. His nose brushes against your clit as he places a chaste kiss over your folds while running two fingers down your slit. “No doubt about it, babe,” Anakin praises. Fuck, you smell divine. He wants to spend all day between your thighs.  “The absolute prettiest. Bet you taste the sweetest, too.”
With that, Anakin dips a finger inside of you, making you gasp. “Fuck, sweetheart,” Anakin sucks in a breath. He lays his head on your thigh to watch his finger disappear inside of you and then reappear glistening with your juices. “How can you be this wet already? I’ve barely gotten started.” 
You roll your head along the couch cushions, impossibly worked up and craving more than just one of Anakin’s fingers. “Then show me what you’re made of, Skywalker.” 
Oh, that sends a jolt straight through Anakin’s cock. He wastes no more time teasing you and slips another finger into your hole while attaching his lips to your clit. He flicks the tip of his tongue over your bundle of nerves, two long fingers are curling against your walls, and Anakin can’t get enough. Pussy just tastes better when you love the person you’re eating out. It’s pure saccharine to him. He needs it pumped into his blood to survive. 
Anakin finesses his cock out of his pants and strokes himself several times to alleviate the terrible pain that has come over him. Your strangled cries of pleasure and hand on his head pushing him further into your cunt encourages Anakin to add a third finger. “Anakin! Fuck!” 
“You like that, baby?” Anakin is breathless, lips coated with your nectar. “You like being stretched by my fingers?” 
“Mm,” you hum, fisting his hair, “yes.” 
“Bet you do.” Anakin bites the inside of your thigh and pumps his three digits agonizingly slowly so he can really admire the stretch. It’s a toe curling sensation and a bit foreign more than anything. You had no idea fingers could feel so good. Maybe it’s just Anakin’s. He places the pad of his thumb on your clit, applying even pressured circles and yeah, it’s totally just Anakin who makes you feel this good. “Good little whores love to be stretched out.” 
“Oh my God!” you exclaim, pussy clenching at Anakin calling you a whore. Your bodily response doesn’t go unnoticed by Anakin. No, he’s storing all of this in his memory, creating a file of all the things that make you go wild. “Fuck me, Anakin. Please.” 
“Currently doing that with fingers, sweetheart.” He pumps his fingers faster but rolls over your nub with a more delicate touch. By now you’re squirming off of the couch, heels digging into the cushion and all you can do is chant Anakin’s name. You’re caught in a dichotomy of wanting to cum while also wanting Anakin’s cock. “C’mon, angel, let it go. I want you to cum on my fingers before you take my cock.” 
“But I- hngh…” your words are mangled as it’s no longer an option to stave off your orgasm. Your clit is overly sensitive and the tightness in your tummy begins to unravel as your walls pulse around Anakin’s three fingers. “Mm— oh, fuck! Ani-”
“That’s it, baby,” Anakin coos. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you cum.” He draws his fingers from you one by one, each time making you cry from emptiness. Anakin sits beside you on the couch, bringing his fingers soaked in your goodness up to your mouth. You open obediently, only taking in two of them. Your tangy sweetness coats your tongue and you’re looking straight into Anakin’s ocean eyes. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel seasick. 
When Anakin takes his fingers out of your mouth, you maneuver yourself on top of Anakin. The rough denim of his jeans creates a rough contrast to the silky tip of his cock poking your thigh. He manages to get his jeans down his legs and around his ankles. Kicking his feet out of them impatiently, his large hands find a home on your breasts while you grab the base of him and position him under your cunt. He’s kneading your mounds gently, rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You slot your lips between his as you lower yourself onto his lap. 
“F-fuck, Ani,” you rest your forehead on Anakin’s as your breathing becomes one. He runs his hands down your tummy, landing on your waist and gives you an encouraging squeeze. “So big, so full,” you murmur. Anakin guides your hips forward and backward, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. He’s sucking down hard, no other thought other than claiming you as his.
It’s fucking magnificent having his cock nestled deep inside of you while you’re moaning in his ear, and soft hands roaming his upper body. His hands drop down to your ass, grabbing a handful of your peachy cheeks. You start bouncing on his cock, each time you drop down you feel like he’s in your stomach. “Cunt’s so fuckin’ greedy,” Anakin groans. “You just can’t get enough of my cock, can you?” 
“Mmh, nuh uh,” you babble mindlessly. Your legs are starting to ache but the pain goes in tandem with the pleasure. Anakin presses your chest to his with his arms around your back. You kiss along his jaw lazily, feeling your energy deplete with each landing on Anakin’s thick length. “Need you to…mmm-” 
“Say no more.” Anakin flips you over seamlessly with his cock still anchored inside of you. He hikes your leg over his shoulder and he drills into you at a delicious new angle. His fingers fall to your clit and it sends you soaring. “Fuck,” Anakin breathes. “I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this tight cunt from me for three years.” 
“Y-yours now,” you have some brain cells left to respond. He’s fucking you hard, tits bouncing with each thrust and Anakin just has to have one in his mouth. While he encloses his lips over one of your nipples, he cups your other breast in his hand. He flicks his tongue across your bud and suckles, as if there’s something in there to nourish him. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chant. It’s all getting to be too much. The bulge you feel in your belly, the pressure on your clit, Anakin’s warm mouth on your breast. How is he so good at doing so many things? “Ani, I’m close.” 
“I feel it, angel,” Anakin drags his lips across your chest and up your neck until he reaches his final destination. With his lips slotted between yours once more, the roll of his hips is languid and methodical. He’s bringing you along gradually, until your second orgasm washes over you and your limbs are convulsing. You moan into Anakin’s mouth and he swallows it happily. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?” 
“Mouth!” you manage to say. Anakin loses every single semblance of control he had when you utter that one word. He pulls out of you just as he begins to cum, hot ropes landing on your chest before he’s propped his foot by your head and shoves his cock between your lips. 
Your warm mouth welcomes him greedily as his seed coats your tongue. “Shit,” Anakin grumbles. “Such a little cum slut.” 
You nod submissively, wrapping your hands around the rest of his length, all slippery from your juices. You look so fucking sexy with his dick in your mouth, he can’t even think straight. You on the other hand, you could suck his cock all damn day. You don’t even have to think while you’re doing it, you’ll just let your hands, mouth, and tongue do whatever they want. It isn’t until you feel his dick start to soften do you realize he’s finished releasing his load. 
Anakin breathlessly slumps down on the other side of your couch. You scoop up his cum from your chest and bring it to your mouth. “Don’t. Don’t fucking do that,” Anakin says rather firmly. 
“Why not?” you blink innocently. 
“You know exactly why.” 
You don’t reply. Instead, you crawl over to him, pulling the blanket that’s draped over the back of your couch and lay on top of Anakin’s chest. He lets you get comfortable as you’re sandwiched between his body and the back cushions of your couch. Once you’ve settled, his strong arm holds you against him protectively. He kisses the top of your head gently and mumbles something you can’t understand. 
Neither of you say anything the rest of the night. Anakin isn’t a man of many words, anyway. But when he has something to say, he’ll make sure he gets his point across. The point he made tonight was very clear. 
He loves you.
Tumblr media
remember to reblog and leave comments to support authors!
(ps i'm not a yankees or mets fan. hayden's sweatshirt just kinda looks like the yankees logo even though i know it's not. okay that's it.)
◂ anakin masterlist ▸ main masterlist
1K notes · View notes
im-poe-dameron · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
─── BREATHE ME IN
a/n: so um...i have no idea what this is. i started this when the kenobi series was coming out and sort of dropped it after a month. but here i am, finally finishing it and making it longer than it was supposed to be. did we really expect me not to find darth vader hot? i think he's where my whole loving a masked character came from. honestly this is basically filth with me trying to shove plot in not so subtly. so i hope y'all enjoy!
summary: the jedi fell and darth vader rose to power, but there's a secret he hides even from his own master.
word count: 5.5k+ (because i'm insane)
pairing: darth vader x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, cussing, angst, tenderness which is shocking, thigh riding, choking (obviously), oral (male receiving), a tad bit of face fucking, dom/sub dynamics, rough p in v sex, overstimulation, more hints of anakin than vader.
You’ll never be able to forget the scent of him after that night one month ago. It was branded in your mind, forever a part of you as he bent you to his will—made you his without even saying a single word. You should have fought him on it; made him see that you weren’t ready to relinquish the power you once held, but you knew the man beneath the mask he wore. You had known Anakin before he became this, before he twisted himself up inside and gave into being Darth Vader.
Even now as you stood in your small home on a planet far away from the Empire’s touch, you could feel his control over you. Long before the order was given and Jedi were slaughtered, you had been one of them. A knight who fought alongside Anakin in the Clone Wars—a warrior who chose the side of good rather than evil.
Then things fell apart. You were told that the man you loved, the person you cherished the most, gave into the dark side.
He became a stranger once more.
But nobody runs from Anakin for long—especially when he’s become a force more powerful than any Jedi could ever hope to be. You were hiding out on Devaron when he found you, attempting first to turn you to the dark side with him. Only for you to see something break in his exterior, his walls dropping for a split second and you felt it like a punch to the chest. He needed you.
This absolute desire was not born out of lust but pure necessity, because even as Darth Vader…Anakin Skywalker still lived beneath the mask and he didn’t know how to live without you. You’d always been the person he turned to when Obi-Wan wouldn’t understand the nature of his feelings. When he could no longer control them himself.
So, he left you there—allowing you to remain a Jedi who chose the light side of the Force over him. But he would return again and again. Desperate for someone to put his strained mind at ease—the memories of his past haunting him with every waking day. Perhaps that's where the submission started. In helping him by allowing him into your bed, into your heart little by little each time until eventually…you yearned for him to.
Jedi weren’t allowed to have such strong attachments, but as a Sith…he could keep you as his for as long as possible. A deal you wholeheartedly agreed to with a single word.
Tumblr media
The stars were starting to shine brightly in the night sky as you traversed the dense forest of Devaron, your lightsaber clipped to your side and hood drawn up over your head. You heard his ship land ten minutes ago; knew he now stood in the center of your home awaiting your arrival. So, you took your time. Anakin never liked to wait, Darth Vader was no different, and somehow that brought a smile to your face. So desperate to see you that he would battle his way through the forest alone to find you again.
He would come after you—you knew he would—and that brought back the pool of heat that always found its way to your body when he arrived.
There was something twisted about loving him even the way he was now. How could you, a Jedi Knight of your ability, love something so dark? How could you give into the sinister deliciousness of that side, yet still remain so true to the light side of the Force? The answer was simpler than you thought. In your mind he still remained as Anakin the man you loved and even though you knew what he did, what he now became, you couldn’t let go of your heart fully.
Even if the scars now showed as small canyons and ridges, each one holding a darkness that would ultimately cause your demise.
He knew this.
Nobody loved Darth Vader, nobody gave themselves to the most powerful Sith in the galaxy, without understanding they would die because of it one day. Perhaps that’s what caused the absolute ache in your bones at the mere sight of him. The thought of one day no longer being by his side. Some Jedi may claim you were betraying what you believed in—destroying yourself just for an inkling of mind numbing pleasure—but it was more than that. Pleasure ultimately gave way to the pain of loving someone beyond saving.
As expected you arrived at your small house to the sight of a black ship—big enough for one—in the clearing that was solely used by him. The darkness bled through the Force, encasing you in a biting cold as you walked towards the already open door. One might say the sight of him standing amidst your tiny living room was terrifying enough to run away. But you were never one to cower in fear from him and you refused to start now.
His head tilted, energy stretching out towards you through the old connection you used to have with him, and with a small smile you reached back. Twining your brilliant blue around his obsidian nature until you saw him shudder beneath his cloak.
“You’re late,” he said—his voice something you had to continue to get used to.
Humming, you dropped your robe onto the chair behind him, heading towards your small makeshift kitchen where you knew there’d be some bread from the day before. He turned, watching you move as you continued to press your Force signature against his own—reminding him of a time when he too held a blue lightsaber brighter than yours. This was a two way street. You savored the bitter sweetness of the dark side, relishing in the rush of power that flowed through your veins, and he once again fell back into what he used to know. The calming serenity of the light side.
“You’re early,” you teased, knowing his temper was far worse than before. However he always seemed to control it around you—the tight grip he had on his anger evident in the way his fist clenched.
“Where did you go?” He demanded more than asked nowadays and so you stayed silent, awaiting for the flare of anger to shove its way into your mind.
It never came though. The silence almost shocked you as you turned, eating the remainder of the bread. But that’s what he wanted out of you—a reaction that would show you actually acknowledge his presence. How could you not? When he stood there looking like the true embodiment of the dark side of the Force. Although there were times when you missed the sight of Anakin standing before you—a smile on his face that always reached his blue eyes.
“Exploring,” you said, eyes flickering down the length of him—taking in the sight of his rigid stance. “How long are you here for?”
“Tonight.”
His answers were blunt, to the point, because he didn’t have time to dawdle. You were his secret, you knew this. If anyone found out you’d be killed and knowing who Darth Vader answered to…he’d be forced to do it himself. So, you nodded and finished the remainder of your bread as you continued to watch him—prodding at the wall of his mind to hopefully see within. But they remained up, blocking you from anything other than his Force signature which remained tightly entwined with your own.
“How long will you be gone for?”
He paused, pressing against the walls of your mind to see what exactly you were thinking, but you knew he didn’t wish to forcefully tear them down. You were not a person he was interrogating—rather a lover who he may very well lose if he didn’t act accordingly. His fist clenched again, the struggle to remain in complete control now wavering as you stalled for time. He knew what you were doing and yet he still played along.
“I don’t know.”
You hummed, once more pressing against the wall in his mind. It was dangerous to be let inside—having seen what he harbored behind the thick barrier—but your curiosity always wished to drag you into trouble.
What was safety compared to intimately knowing the most lethal person in existence? To you there would be nothing more intriguing, nothing more worth the risk than this simple gesture.
“Don’t,” he spit out, stepping closer until your lower back was digging into the counter.
“You let me in once before—”
His gloved hand landed on your throat, silencing your words and causing a shudder to run down your spine. Though the position wasn’t unfamiliar, it still brought a small inkling of fear to peek its head out. He could kill you—without remorse. Yet he never did. He simply remained, holding your throat as tenderly as he possibly could—relearning what the meaning of gentle was. That thought alone brought a dazed smile to your face, your eyes nearly fluttering closed as his thumb ran along the column of your neck.
“That is no longer a luxury you are allowed to have.”
The words were sinister on his tongue, like a sharp knife to your heart, but you’d been scarred by him before. “Is it because I know what I’ll find? Or are you afraid?”
His control finally snapped, the pressure on your throat now crushing you until you struggled for air. But he didn’t squeeze harder, he didn’t make sure that you were unable to breathe completely, because he couldn’t cross that line. He refused to. You were the only light he let slip through the cracks of his helmet; the one thing keeping him stable on the ground and while it wasn’t very Darth Vader of him to keep you—it was the part of Anakin that still remained that held onto you tightly.
“You know nothing.”
Despite the lack of oxygen, you smiled. “I know you.”
The words came out choked and broken, but it was enough. He froze, his hand loosening around your throat as the final realization clicked into place just like it always did when he found his way back to you.
You knew him—knew Anakin that lay beneath the surface and Vader that rose to power crushing him in the end. You knew all the ugly bits that showed through the evident splinters of his being and in spite of all of that…you still loved him. Whenever he left you he seemed to forget that when he came here he didn’t have to wear a shroud of anger that resembled his cape. He didn’t have to wean himself from the light side with every bittersweet touch, because you held no expectations of him.
“Anakin,” you breathed, hand sliding along his leather covered limb. “Come home.”
Little by little you saw his walls come down, felt the darkness seep into his Force signature until you were surrounded by it. Until the only light left between the two of you was yours—guiding him back to you for a brief moment. He’d only be here tonight, so you’d have tonight.
You would take as much time as you were allowed if it meant seeing Anakin for a brief moment again.
“Anakin is dead,” he muttered, hand shifting until his thumb was pressing against your bottom lip. “I killed him.”
Parting your lips you allowed him to invade your senses even further—the taste of the leather permeated your mouth, driving a moan from your throat. Digging your nails into his arm, you felt him push against you—forcing his way into your mind and showing you images of a past that felt like yesterday. Anakin’s face flashed before you, the smile you ached to see again finally coming back to you, and it drew a whimper to the surface. A sound he liked if the pressure on your tongue was enough to go by.
The scene shifted and you felt the heat flare to life in your stomach as you saw yourself beneath him, sobbing his name as he practically shoved you into all encompassing bliss. Memories he still held onto—torturing himself because he could no longer have you in the way he wanted. But above all that, one stuck to the forefront of your mind. The taste of him as he kissed you; devoured everything you were and felt greedy enough to take even more.
The first hints of the dark side within him.
“Maker,” you gasped as he ripped his hand away, reaching for the ties of your robes. “I miss it too.”
Gathering enough of your energy you used the Force to shove him backwards until he stumbled into the wall behind him—his large frame taking up too much space. To anyone else it would have felt suffocating, but to you…this was as safe as you were ever going to get. He ached to have his old self back not to be a Jedi again. No, he thrived in the sinister ways of the Sith. He wanted to be Anakin, to have you again by his side—to kiss you like he used to on nights where things became too heavy a burden to carry alone.
Somehow in the midst of you pushing him back and him resisting you ended up pinned to the wall of your bedroom by him. He didn’t even have to touch you to make you beg for more; for you to do anything he wanted. This is what bending to his will became and he loved it.
He stood inches away, the tips of his boots touching yours and so like a fool you let your walls down without any warning. Shoving every memory and burning need his way until he was gasping through the modulator—his hand slamming against the wall beside your head. Each moment you were with him, each touch and night neither of you slept—too busy finding what made the other tick—it all poured into his mind. You made him see what you saw whenever you were near him even with the mask.
The cold feeling of his mask pressed against your cheek as he tried to push himself closer. This is all it would amount to. Nights spent in secret when really the both of you ached for one last thing. Something you never got.
A farewell kiss.
“Anakin,” you said softly, hand sliding to his shoulder. “Are you home?”
He let out a breath, the sound distorted through the modulator before finally breaking down the last of his walls. “Yes.”
You didn’t know how long tonight would truly last and so you began to clutch at his arm, feeling a hot press of his gloved hand dig into your thigh as he raised it to his hip. A natural movement he’d done a hundred times over. That was enough to make you smile, a small bit of laughter echoing off the walls of your tiny room. Although darkness still clung to him, still twisted tightly around your Force energy, he remained the man you loved.
Both Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader alike.
“Tell me,” he groaned, shoving his knee up gently and fitting it right at the seam of your pants.
It almost didn’t feel fair how he knew your body so well—how he knew which way to move you to finally hear that familiar moan tumble past your lips.  Grinding your hips down, your head fell back against the wall when pressure was finally applied to your throbbing clit, sending sparks down your spine. You knew he watched every emotion, expression, and heard every sound behind that helmet and somehow…that made it even more electric.
“Tell me,” he demanded, hand going back to your throat and keeping you in place as his other one guided your hips along his thigh.
Fuck, you were still clothed and felt like you would fall apart at any moment.
“I—” Moaning, your hands scrambled for purchase along his chest. “I love you.”
Placing pressure on your throat he shoved pressed his thigh upwards, watching your eyes flutter shut, a high-pitched gasp escaping you as you finally broke. Light flooded his senses, nearly breaking his stance, but the sight of you writhing in his grasp—whimpers falling from your lips was too addicting for him to let go of. They say that the dark side made one greedy; desperate for whatever they wanted, and in this moment he was prepared to take and take until you had nothing left to give.
He knew you’d let him. You would give him whatever he asked for.
“Anaki—” He cut you off, dragging you along his thigh again and watching as your face twisted. Both pain and pleasure collided as you were shoved into overstimulation.
“Again,” he said, moving his hand from your hip to your pants—helping you yank them off until the leather of his glove slid through your hot slick. “I want to see you do it again.”
“Oh fuck.”
Gasping for air, you dug your teeth into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as he ruthlessly began to toy with your clit. He knew exactly what to do to shove you right on that edge again and perhaps that’s what flung you over it. Or maybe it was him shoving the same words back into your own mind until it echoed over and over again.
I love you.
Sith didn’t care about things like love, but Anakin Skywalker was never truly a Sith just as he was never truly a Jedi.
He was stuck in between—crossing the border of want and need.
“I can’t.” A cry ripped from you as his other hand moved down from your neck to your chest, rubbing a thumb over your nipple. “I—Anakin I can’t.”
He chuckled, the sound menacing even to you. “Yes you can.”
This wasn’t a question—it was a choice of when you’d finally give in. The pressure in your body built, the coil twisting as he continued to rub sharp circles on your clit. When your legs began to shake and your vision became blurry from tears, you knew you were right there on the very edge of shattering, but you couldn’t. Not until he joined you on that edge—relenting his power to give you some of your own.
“Say it,” you begged, eyes screwing shut as he sunk two fingers into you right to the knuckle—his thumb continuing. “Say it for me. Please I need—I need to—”
“I love you.”
The words sounded foreign coming from his modulator, but you knew this was Anakin speaking not the twisted side of him that fed off of pain. He’d finally ripped free from the cage he was put in, leeching off the light coming from you with glee. He may not have meant the words entirely, but they did what you both intended them to do.
Sobbing his name, you felt the pressure snap in two flooding your body with a white-hot pleasure. You could hear his fingers as they continued to pump into you, rubbing against the spot along your walls that made your legs shake and tears flow down your cheeks.
“That’s it,” he muttered, hand going around your neck to hold you in place as you practically grinded on his hand—the pleasure still coursing through your veins.
You were lost to it. Mind numb to everything else but him standing before you.
It took you a few minutes to catch your breath and gain feeling in your limbs again and he waited. Gave you a chance to breathe as he fought against the impatience that trickled into his veins—a quality that was unnatural to him. Once you were finally able to open your eyes, sighing in contentment, you focused on his mind—allowing yourself a chance to see inside of it. As always it was inner turmoil that had you flinching, but right now all you saw were memories of you and him. The same ones he played over and over again while he was away from you.
“And here I thought you never missed me while you were away,” you said, lips curving into a smile sweet enough to taste.
“I don’t miss you.” He leaned closer, hand reaching down to cup your swollen cunt. “I miss this.”
Words like that should have stung, but you knew him better than that. You knew why he said the things he said. So you smiled wider, dragging his arm up until his hand was in front of your face, the black leather shiny with your cum. Twining your Force signature around him until he couldn’t escape, you sucked his fingers into your mouth, moaning at the taste of yourself. He didn’t expect you to give in so easily—usually enjoying the fight you put him through. But tonight you’d settle for this so you could gain more.
“We’ll see about that,” you whispered, kissing his palm and dropping his arm.
You wanted him to give over the control he ached for; wanted to watch as the last of his residual armor came crashing down around you. Only one person would be able to say they brought Darth Vader down to their knees and it was you. His light, his moon, his lover.
Pushing his leg away, you pressed your hands on his chest, wishing you could once again feel the strong heartbeat beneath his skin. The steady thrum of it put you to sleep on long nights when you snuck away from the Jedi Temple, but for now you’d have to settle for the rhythmic timing of his breaths as they echoed around the room.
Without another thought, you dropped to your knees in front of him—his body keeping you caged in along the wall. You figured he already knew what you were going to do, if the way he widened his stance told you anything. His hand cupped the back of your neck, tilting your gaze back towards him. It was the gentle nature of his touch that sent heat spilling into your heart. Anakin flared to life right before your eyes with every passing minute.
Undoing his belt, you allowed yourself a moment to admire what lay beneath the leather. What he always drew your attention away from. The skin was burnt, scarred beyond anything you’d ever seen before, but that never mattered to you. He stood stiff, his other hand pressed against the wall, helmet focused on you. Almost like he was unsure of what would happen.
Would you not care? Or would what remained not be what you wanted?
“Oh…” you gasped when he was finally free.
He was scarred there too, you’d felt it before. Except you weren’t shocked by that; no you were surprised by how worked up he was. The glossy sheen of precum building up at the tip practically dripped down your palm as you held him—begging for you to taste. Leaning forward, you took the head of his cock into your mouth, the guttural moan he let out sending a flare of heat through your body.
“Is this for me?” you asked sweetly, knowing it would only succeed in riling him up even more.
He grunted, his hand pushing you forward until his cock was once more back in your mouth. Although you didn’t mind in the slightest. Not when his addicting salty tang spread on your tongue the longer you sucked on the head. He was shameless with the sounds he made. Entirely focused on his pleasure, but you felt the way he softly rubbed his thumb along your neck, sending goosebumps down your skin.
“Take me deeper,” he said, already knowing you were heading that way anyways. “I know you can.”
You moaned when he hit the back of your throat, his hips thrusting forward slightly until you gagged. That alone only made him do it again. Pressing against the firm line that stood between the both of you. He wouldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want—as long as you gave him control. Something you were more than okay with handing over.
It’s not like you had any semblance of it before he became Darth Vader. Anakin had always been one to take what he deemed he deserved. Except when it came to you, he always gave you the choice. Even now as your nose brushed the base of his cock, your throat squeezing him so tight his whole body shuddered, you still held the choice.
You sucked in a breath when he pulled away, tears streaming down your cheeks and spit covering your chin. Part of you wanted to keep going—to feel him spill down your throat—but you knew that wasn’t what he was here for. Dragging you up, he pressed the cold shell of his helmet against your forehead, hands grasping your hips tightly.
“I need—” He cut himself off, a loud breath reverberating through his modulator. 
For the first time that night you felt it. The small flicker of blue in his otherwise black Force signature. Only in moments like this, when his desperation practically permeated the air, did you find your Anakin.
The only thing stronger than Palpatine’s hold over him had always been the love he felt for you—that was clear to you now.
“I know,” you murmured, leading him back and watching as he sat on your bed. His large frame practically took up the entire room. He spread his legs, allowing you to step between them, but you had a different plan altogether.
Clambering onto his lap, you held yourself up as you positioned his cock at your entrance. Your slick practically pooled over him, making it easier for you to take him in one thrust. But rather than rush this, you held yourself there. Hovering over his needy and wanting cock—making him wait for the one thing he so desperately needed. The blue flickered again, vibrating through you and forcing a gasp from your lungs.
You longed to pull it closer until it enveloped you entirely; til you suffocated from its light. But whatever remained was now small and fleeting, only seen in moments like this. His grasp turned harsh, impatient. Letting you know that he only had so much left in him before he took back the small sliver of control he allotted you.
Your whole body shook as you finally lowered yourself, feeling the stretch of his cock sliding into your cunt. A growl ripped from his chest, his hands pressing you down further and watching in delight as your head fell back, a garbled shout echoing off the walls. You went dizzy with the delicious mixture of pain and pleasure. It rushed through you, setting each nerve in your body alight with a burning fire.
Which only made everything shine brighter.
Light flooded his senses, your Force signature practically bleeding out into the room. And he took it. He swallowed it whole in his never ending darkness with the hope that you were never extinguished.
“More,” you gasped, fingers digging into the leather that covered his shoulder.
He shoved his hips upward, grinding against you and tearing a sound from your chest that seared into his mind instantly. You were a wanton mess. Barely hanging on to the person you were thirty minutes ago—before he came back into your life. Instead there you were. The lover who fed off of his darkness; who took what the Jedi Order claimed was forbidden and begged for more.
“Maker—fuck—I-I’m oh fuck—” You made no sense, but that’s the way he wanted you. An incoherent babbling mess that rode his cock to chase that feeling only he could bring you.
Lifting yourself up slightly, you dropped back down haphazardly, hating the emptiness that came with his cock slipping out of you. A sound tore through his modulator, his hands tightening on your hips as you set a brutal pace. He groaned when your walls tightened around him, the sound of your skin slapping against the leather of his pants echoing in the room. If you listened closely you could hear the wet squelch of your slick as he set his own pace, pounding into you without abandon.
“Please, Anakin please,” you cried, unsure of what you were begging for.
He seemed to know though.
Without a response, his hand wrapped around your throat, pressing down tightly as he thrusted upwards even harder. The lack of oxygen seemed to only heighten the sensation you chased—pleasure building up to an almost painful degree in your body.
He bent you to his will, guiding your body in a way that felt familiar. You didn’t have to think when he was here, didn't need to focus your energy on any of this, because he did it for you. His gloved thumb pressed against your lips until you opened up with ease, sucking his finger into your mouth with a moan. It gave you a chance to take in a deep breath before he clamped down tight around your throat again. Turning your vision hazy.
“Good,” he muttered, pulling the spit slicked finger from your mouth. Only to press it firmly against your clit.
Your body arched, a broken cry falling from your lips as tears streamed down your face. It was too much, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to ask him to stop. You didn’t want him to. The pleasure nearly blinded you with each thrust of his cock into your dripping cunt. But what made you fall wasn’t the feeling of him finally striking against the spot that made your body curl in on itself.
No, it was the image he projected in your mind.
“That’s what you like huh,” Anakin’s voice grunted in your head, his blue eyes just as bright as before.
You sobbed out a garbled yes, eyes rolling back. The image continued. A bright blue light wrapped itself around you, nearly burning you from the inside out as he pinched your clit between his fingers. And you chased it; grabbed onto the sensation tightly and let it fill your chest until you swore your heart stopped beating.
“I want you to cum. Let me see my pussy drip for me,” he spit, dragging you closer until you were pressed so tight it nearly hurt.
“Don’t,” you gasped, shoving the image of Anakin away from your mind, eyes focusing on the empty soulless black mask he wore. His hand let up slightly, allowing you breath to speak. “I want to see you. Not him.”
Warmth spread through your chest when his hips stuttered, a groan reverberating against your breast. You wished you could kiss him. Feel the hot press of his lips on yours, but this—feeling him thrust into you quickly—was enough. His hand tightened again as his cock drove up into you harshly, hitting right where you needed to fly off the edge. Your mouth fell open, a broken sob making its way through as the all encompassing heat you so desired began to spill through your body.
A snarl ripped through your very being when he finally joined you, spurting into your swollen cunt and filling you until you leaked around the base of him. Except he didn’t stop. He pushed forward, thrusting into you until pain filtered through the pleasure. Once more you were shoved into that bliss, drowning in it with no way out.
Sobbing his name, you felt your body shake as he finally ceased his movements, allowing you to sag against him. The energy was completely depleted from you and he knew it. Which is why he didn’t move. Simply breathed deeply, his softening cock still deep in you, causing you to moan slightly at every soft twitch.
“How long until you have to go?” you sighed, your fingers tracing random shapes against his armor.
“Soon.”
“Will you come back?”
You knew you wouldn’t receive an answer. You never did, because even he didn’t know when Palpatine would finally release him again from his grasp. He let out a breath, his hands cupping your ass as he molded you to him. The blue light still flickered amidst the darkness, turning his once bleak Force signature a brilliant midnight color. And for a moment you saw the real him. The man who lay beyond the layers of his armor.
Laying a kiss against the cold shell of his mask, you allowed yourself a moment to be enveloped by him. The darkness would return eventually, wiping away the man who sat beneath you. But for now, he was here and he was yours.
Smiling, you pressed against it with your own, feeling him shudder beneath you. It was like looking at the night sky—a sight you wanted to keep until you were left alone once more. Curling around his body, you allowed sleep to finally overtake you, your mind soothed by the soft touch of the Force he pressed against you.
Only then did you realize.
In the small space of your home, beneath the strain of a galaxy under siege, your Anakin finally found his way home again.
1K notes · View notes
lovelybucky1 · 11 months
Text
Babysitter
Tumblr media
Kinktober Day 19- Breeding Kink
au created in part by @fuckmyskywalker 🫶
warnings: trailer trash!anakin, dub con, mentions of housewife kink, mentions of breeding kind, dry humping, no smut, this is bad tbh im sorry, 18+ minors dni
main masterlist
kinktober masterlist
You never minded doing your neighbor Anakin favors. He is a single dad with three adult children and a grandchild, despite his young age. You don't know many people who become grandparents in their 40s, but Anakin's son had gotten a girl pregnant and she left him to take care of the baby.
Anakin's son isn't the best parent. He's still a kid himself but he's been working long hours to make enough money to support his child. During the day when he's at work, you come over to take care of the baby.
They don't pay you much but the baby, Eddie, is the sweetest little boy in the entire world. You work nights at the diner, so spending time at Anakin's trailer during the day is no issue at all, especially when you're so close to your own home.
Anakin's hours at the mechanic's shop change all the time. Sometimes he goes in before sunrise and gets home at 3 pm, and other times he hasn't woken up for the day by the time you get there to watch Eddie.
Today is one of the days he got home early. You were folding laundry on the couch when he walked in, sweaty and grimy from the day. He froze in the doorway when he saw you.
"Hi, Mr. Skywalker," you greet with a smile.
"You don't have to call me that," he chuckles as he kicks off his boots by the door. "How's the baby been?"
"Oh, just perfect," you smile. "He's down for a nap right now."
Anakin nods as he walks over to the kitchen sink to wash his hands. He watches you continue to fold the laundry and he thinks to himself that you would make a good housewife. You're responsible, pretty, and young enough to handle young kids.
Anakin drys his hands on the towel on the counter, then walks over to where you sit on the couch. You look up at him but you find it hard to maintain eye contact when he's looking at you so intensely. You've always been a bit intimidated by Anakin, but you know it's all in your head. He's a nice guy and you're just a girl with a stupid crush.
"Need any help?" he asks.
"No, it's okay," you smile.
"Are you sure?" he insists.
You look down at the full laundry basket of folded clothes. "Well, you could bring that to the bedroom for me if you want," you say.
With a charming smile, Anakin bends down to pick up the basket and starts off down the hall before turning around, waiting for you to follow him.
Anakin places the basket on the bed and stands back as you begin to place the clothes in his drawers. When you bend down to put some paired socks in the bottom drawer, Anakin looks shamelessly at your ass.
Putting on the charm and playing the nice guy has never been hard for Anakin. What's difficult is keeping his true nature hidden when no one is watching.
He sees how you look at him. You wouldn't babysit Eddie everyday for basically free if something wasn't in it for you. Anakin comes home early from work some days just so he can see your face light up when he walks through the door. You're so cute and innocent; such a sweet girl who has no idea what she's getting herself into.
Licking his lips, Anakin decides he doesn't want to hold off any longer. He steps towards you to place his hands on your hips and he pulls you back against him.
"Anakin!" you gasp, making him chuckle.
"Shh, you'll wake the baby," he says into her ear. "It's alright."
"W-what are you doing?"
The tip of his nose brushes against your ear and you shiver in his arms. "I'm doin' exactly what you want me to do, dollface."
"What-"
"You do all the house work, take care of my baby, greet me when I come home from work. You're pretty much my little housewife already. Why don't we make it official, huh?"
"I don't know what you mean," you say breathlessly.
Anakin's laugh rumbles through his chest. "I'm gonna make you mine, sweetheart. Might even give you a baby of your own."
Anakin's erection pokes your ass and you can't resist from pressing back against it. You have no idea where this is all coming from, but you have been dreaming of this. Anakin coming in and bending you over to claim you for his own, though you never thought it would actually happen.
"You wanna be pregnant with my kid, baby? You'd make such a good mommy. Don't you wanna make me a daddy again?"
Your stomach burns with desire but you know it's wrong. You had no idea he even had interest in you but now he's talking about getting you pregnant? You're brought out of your thoughts by the sound of Eddie crying in the next room. Saved by the bell.
You try to break away from Anakin's hold but he grips your hips tightly.
"But Eddie-"
"Let him cry. This is more important."
916 notes · View notes
moonlight-prose · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
✧ INHALE, EXHALE ✧
Tumblr media
a/n: it's hard to believe that in ten days kinktober and october will be over. that's actually insane. the month has gone by so fucking fast. also i'm really shocked i've made it this far. i fully expected to give up on day ten, but here we are. entering the home stretch. writing this has made me realize i need to write more for anakin. so i hope y'all enjoy my first official anakin fic.
day twenty-one - breathplay + fingering | kinktober 2023
summary: "the act of inhaling a breath was intimate. a way for your body to grasp onto the strands of life that connected you to the planet you resided on. to keep you going until you took your final one"
word count: 1.1k+
pairing: anakin skywalker x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, breathplay, fingering, inappropriate use of the force, choking, anakin having a dark side, dirty talk.
Tumblr media
The act of inhaling a breath was intimate. A way for your body to grasp onto the strands of life that connected you to the planet you resided on. To keep you going until you took your final one. The one that ended it all. The sensation of your chest rising and falling, your lungs filling with something so beautiful—so peaceful—often made you realize how incredible everything was.
No matter how much you wanted to search for beauty, it stood right before you. Offering itself to you on a silver platter; giving you no choice but to take and take until there was nothing left to give.
The act of taking away breath…was sinful.
Each breath you inhaled, now ripped from your grasp, stolen from your lungs with the promise of nothing. There would be no reprieve. No offer of more. Because your breath was gone and yet…you were more than willing to keep it that way. The act triggered something in your brain, right down to the darkness that resided in the very depths you avoided. It dragged the thoughts to the forefront—or perhaps he did—and presented themselves as if they were prey ready for the kill.
“So you do like this.” He said the words with a smirk, his body lax on the chair that stood next to your bed—legs spread wide and eyes dark with hunger. “I knew you’d be filthy.”
Dropping his hand, you gasped for air, the high of the oxygen hitting your lungs and nearly turning your brain fuzzy. Causing you to drop down onto the bed devoid of energy yet burning right down to your core. You couldn’t tell how long he’d been at it. How many times he’d cut off your air supply only to give it back with the wave of his hand. A true master of knowing how to make you squirm.
Your fingers gripped the sheets, legs stretching out as you sucked in air quickly. Knowing that the small break would only be permitted for so long. His hand on your thigh changed that thought. It had your eyes flying open, mouth parting in an already formed plea as he slid his fingers up higher. Tracing the skin with symbols. The language of the Jedi of Old. Long before you or him were ever born. You could recognize their shapes anywhere, having trained by his side, and you tried to make out what he was spelling.
What words he was lightly ingraining into your body like a mark that wouldn’t vanish.
“Anakin,” you breathed, body responding to his touch instantaneously.
“You can take it again.” He trailed his hand up higher, fingers brushing the curls above your mound—feeling the way your body jolted, hips trying to reach his touch. “You can take anything I give you.”
Your breath hitched, eyes fluttering shut when he finally slid a bit further and sunk two fingers into your slick. Parting you lewdly for his eyes to see. You were wet and warm. Practically weeping into his hand. But then something pushed forward, sliding along your body and tweaking your nipples roughly, dragging a punched out cry from your lips.
He smiled, flicking his wrist to touch you in a way only he enjoyed. The Force was not meant to be used so obscenely. But Anakin had always been one to bend the rules. Especially when it came to you.
“Look at you,” he marveled, circling your clit gently. “My beautiful mess.”
You gasped when his finger curled into you. “Anakin—”
“Take it,” he growled, the touch now returning to your neck. The skin was tender, but you leaned into it. Arched your back to give him better access. “Be good and let me hear you honey.”
“M-Maker.”
“Fucking beautiful.” He pressed another finger into you, eyes drinking in the way your mouth fell open, a whine of name echoing in the room. “You’re all mine aren’t you?”
��Oh fuck.”
Thrusting up into you, he focused on the rise and fall of your bare chest, throat extended and waiting for him to continue. A vision of perfection right before his eyes. Without another thought he dragged the Force back to where you wanted it; where he could watch your body give into the pleasure. It wrapped around your throat, pressing down gently at first until your eyes opened, meeting his.
You saw the depravity in them, the need that bled into the air around you. Demanding everything of you—all that you were willing to give.
“I asked you a question,” he said, curling his fingers and striking that spot that had a breathless sob hitting his ears.
“Yes!” you cried, thighs trembling.
He pressed down harder, your breath effectively being cut off—head hitting the pillow with a whine.
“Right answer.” He smiled, thumb sliding messily over your clit and dragging you even higher. “You’re my good fucking girl aren’t you baby?”
Nodding, you clutched at his arm, nails dragging against the clunky armor he wore. Not two hours ago was he out on the battlefield right by your side. Helping you lead an artillery against the Separatists. Yet now he had you holed up in his cabin, dragging release after release out of your body. Rendering you useless in tomorrow’s training.
“Do you want to cum?” He rubbed directly over the spongy spot on your walls, catching the way your eyes rolled back. “Yeah you do.”
The pleasure was too much. Your lungs screamed for air, but the bliss that spread from between your thighs only caused you to spiral higher. For a brief moment, he let up, allowing you to suck in a breath or two. Yet he never relented with his fingers. Three of them now buried deep in you, plunging in and out at a speed that had cries falling from your lips.
“I can feel it.” Your hips grinded down on the palm of his hand, the pleasure building with each movement. Yet you needed something to push you over the edge. The Force pressed around your throat, cutting off your air as he leaned in closer, lips brushed yours. “Cum for me. Give it to me.”
The tight coil in your body snapped. Flooding you with a white hot flame that rocketed up your spine. Digging your nails into his wrist, you could see him smiling proudly through your blurry gaze. Tears streaming down into your hair. Your lips curled up as he took his hand away, letting you breathe once more. Giving you a chance to come back down from the high you’d been suspended in.
“Beautiful.” He cupped your cheek, kissing you softly—a stark contrast to the way he just had you. Yet that’s what you adored about him, what made you pull him closer as your lips properly sealed over his.
Until he found his way into the bed with you, hands wrapping around your body. Breathing his very own life into your lungs.
266 notes · View notes
distortionbobble · 1 year
Text
Royal Flowers Chapter 1
series masterlist
pairing: anakin skywalker x f! reader
summary: A long, long, time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, a certain Jedi by the name of Anakin Skywalker meets you, the current Queen of Naboo and adopted cousin of Padme Amidala, and is tasked with protecting you by pretending to marry you. As a spy, you’ve infiltrated the Separatist ranks and are close to finding out the mastermind behind all of it. The fate of the galaxy is in your hands. 
warnings: minors dni! ageless blogs dni! none this chapter but the series will have eventual smut, canon-level violence and just general warnings. 
a/n: hello hello hello! i’m working on creating more appropriately sized chapters and spacing things out but i’m so excited to work on this series. this series is based on a request from @breatheeagainnnn 
word count: 2.7k 
Tumblr media
Anakin Skywalker is lost.
The revelation comes to him when he is lost in the deep waters of his meditation, distanced from the buzzing matter of physical reality as he is swept by the currents of the Force. He drifts without anchor, each surge threatening to submerge him, to overwhelm him if he loses his control.
He seeks to control the Force. The Force seeks to control him. 
And the network of the universe ebbs and flows around him when the truth is drawn from his bones. It’s a presentation of three fragmented parts that unsettle Anakin right down to his soul. 
The first. He is afraid. He is the Chosen One, something he’s heard so much that it has lost its meaning. The Messiah lost the message. 
Bring balance to the Force. Bring balance to the Force. Bring balance to the Force.
He doesn’t know what that means anymore. And if he fails, what then? His fear of falling into the Darkness paradoxically increases the hold that it has on him. 
The second. He pines for what he cannot have. 
Padme Amidala is the breath in his lungs, reviving him with each heartbeat. But she couldn’t love him the way he loves her, telling him as much with just a hint of sadness on her graceful face. She shut him out and without her, he feels weaker. 
The third. Anakin is losing control. Obi-Wan can sense it too, because every training session is overshadowed by a sense of urgency. Every move is sloppier, more dangerous, and even in training, his desire to triumph is clouded by his desperation, as if winning would allow him to truly understand it all. 
And all of this culminates in him realizing that he is lost, without hope and without guidance, and nobody will understand. Obi-Wan could never understand, for he still sees Anakin as the child that he rescued so many years ago. Obi-Wan just doesn’t get him. Master Obi-Wan would do anything for his padawan, truly, but Anakin can’t bear the thought of burdening Obi-Wan with this. Besides, it would only reinforce Obi-Wan’s view that Anakin isn’t ready to be a Jedi Master. 
A knock on the door to his quarters startles him and he scrambles to get up as Master Obi-Wan opens the door. 
“Anakin, there’s someone here to meet us,” Obi-Wan says, frowning. Anakin runs a hand through his hair, sighing as he frantically pieces together an appearance of cool indifference. He’s a Jedi. He can’t feel rattled. The two Knights obscure their faces with their hoods and walk out of Anakin’s quarters. 
Anakin follows Obi-Wan to a room where a single figure stands hidden by a hooded cloak, surrounded by a number of handmaidens each adorning the same pinched, tight-lipped look. 
“Leave us,” a low voice says from under the cloak, and each of the handmaidens file out of the room without sparing even a single glance behind. Anakin reflexively reaches for his lightsaber, but then the figure steps into the beam of light streaming from the window and takes off the hood. And he lays eyes on you for the first time. 
You’re not nearly as beautiful as Padme, nobody is, but still, there’s something so mesmerizing about you. Motes of dust dance in Coruscant sunbeams around your head and it looks like a halo, makes you look holy, and he can’t stop himself from staring. He’s studying the details of your face, scanning, and it’s to a point that he can’t pretend it’s for threats. He almost forgets to breathe when you bow your head to him in respect, and he has to bow back. Anakin’s eyes are still transfixed on you when you begin to speak. 
“Master Kenobi, General Skywalker,” you begin, and the two Jedi push their hoods down. “I come to you in need of assistance. As you are aware, the current Queen of Naboo’s two terms are near their end. But what has been kept secret is that I’ve been chosen as her successor, which will be revealed to the citizens of Naboo in a fortnight.” You take a deep breath and smile weakly as Anakin and Obi-Wan mutter half-hearted congratulations. “What I need is protection.”
“So then why do you require our aid? I’m sure you’re aware that Naboo has its own governmental protective forces, and I’m unsure that they’d take the Jedi Council’s interference in their sovereignty kindly,” Anakin asks. He’s more guarded than he intends to come off, but the question holds still. You don’t appear to be a fool, so there must be more depth to the matter. At his questioning, your eyes flit briefly towards the door before you step closer to the Jedi, toying with the front of your robes as nervousness overtakes you. 
“I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’m much older than the usual elected Queen, and it is not by coincidence,” you murmur. “I did not get here alone. Under the command of Senator Amidala, I’ve spent the past couple years infiltrating the Naboo separatists. They manipulated the selections such that I would become Queen.” At the mention of Padme, Anakin bites back a sigh and forces himself to pay attention to your words. 
“That is very dangerous,” Obi-Wan says, rubbing his hand over his beard. “I assume you’ve been relaying your findings to the Senator thus far?” 
You nod sharply in response. 
“I see. The Council—“ Obi-Wan begins, but you shake your head frantically and grasp him and Anakin by the robes, pulling them closer to you. 
“No. Not the Council. I do not know who I can trust. There are Separatist spies everywhere. My handmaidens, for example, are all Separatist spies who don’t trust me because Padme is my cousin. While I don’t doubt the integrity of the Jedi Masters, I fear putting them in danger if my operative fails, or if word gets out.” You’re frantic but quiet, and constantly checking at the door to see if any of your wardens have overheard your betrayal.
“And yet you trust us,” Anakin rebuts. He doesn’t trust you, not one bit; how could he ever trust a spy? If you’re so willing to lie, even if it is to the Separatists, how can he be sure that you’re not lying to him? 
“Padme told me that I could trust you. She said to give you this,” you say, shoving your hand into your pockets to produce a necklace, which Anakin recognizes immediately. It’s one he knows all too well, as it’s the necklace he’d gifted Padme before he had even joined the Order. And he decides that if nothing else, you are honest about Padme. And that’s all that matters to him. The part of him that still burns for her overtakes him and he knows that he can’t let her down. 
“I’ll do it,” Anakin says. Obi-Wan glances warningly in his direction, but there’s a certain resignation and relief in Obi-Wan’s posture. Anakin hasn’t taken this kind of initiative in a long time, and Obi-Wan was beginning to grow concerned that all hope for the Chosen One was lost. 
“Alright, the matter is,” Obi-Wan pauses mid-sentence, looking at Anakin’s determination, “settled. We will aid you in your transition away from the Separatist group and expose their interference.” 
”You have misunderstood me, Master Kenobi,” you whisper, voice hush with urgency. “I’m so close to finding out the identities, locations, of key leaders. There are Sith Lords that are regularly hologrammed into our meetings. Should I be tasked with something significant as the Queen, Darth Sidious has already alerted me that I will be tasked with the assignment in his presence.” 
Obi-Wan begins to respond to you, but Anakin cuts him off. “If you have a plan, why don’t you tell us already?” He’s frustrated by your impatience. Maybe Obi-Wan was right about politicians. You glance at him, annoyed. 
“I was getting to it, General Skywalker. As I was saying, this mission is imperative and it is essential to the fate of the Republic and thus, the galaxy, that I am not put in harm’s way before I am able to succeed in exposing the identities of key Separatist forces. I cannot trust the guards provided by the Naboo government, as I don’t know who is a Separatist plant. So—“
“So you need our protection to… what? Kill the spies? And how would that work if Naboo has its own protection for you? I highly doubt they’d take the involvement of the Jedi Council kindly,” Anakin says sharply. You nod at his rapid-fire questioning, unfazed. 
“Something like that. I need to make sure that any communications I have and discoveries I have are protected, and if anyone finds out, that they’re eliminated before they can eliminate me. So not necessarily kill the spies, but I need actual protection, and I need someone that I know I can trust. And…” you trail off and step back, toying with the hem of your sleeves as you sigh. 
“What is it, milady?” Obi-Wan asks you gently. You press your hands to your neck and look up at Anakin. 
“The way I see it, there’s two things we can do. General Skywalker, I understand that as a Jedi Knight, you have a padawan yourself. Ahsoka, correct? We could have her—” 
“No,” Anakin interrupts quickly. “Ahsoka’s far too young, and while I believe that she will grow to be a very competent and powerful Jedi, now is not the time to thrust her headfirst into a mission alone.” You nod at the Jedi’s assessment. 
“Of course, General. We’re thus presented with the second plan. I am, as Queen, permitted to have a husband. I’ve been building the identity of a lover in my life, and while there is none, this leaves me room to marry without suspicion in the eyes of the Separatists.” You take another deep breath and look at both Anakin and Obi-Wan, shoulders tensed. “If I marry either you or Anakin, then I’ll be able to have you in my chambers regularly, privately.” 
“And you’re certain it must be us?” Obi-Wan asks. You nod quickly, sharply. 
“I can’t trust anyone but the two of you,” you whisper. Obi-Wan nods at your words, then bows his head. Anakin follows suit. 
“Thank you, milady. We’ll meet you at midnight, in the gardens, to settle the matter.” Obi-Wan and Anakin hide under their robes once more, being even more careful to disguise themselves as you call out loudly for the handmaidens to return. 
~~~
The hours pass quickly, and you soon find yourself in the cover of the night’s darkness. Sleep eludes you tonight, and you are filled with restlessness. Your handmaidens have retired, sleeping outside of your bedchamber to ensure that you don’t leave. But they fortunately didn’t notice the ledge that goes from underneath the bedroom window to the bridge connecting the guest quarters to the Temple. 
The air in the room feels stale and suffocating as you toss and turn, counting down the minutes until your meeting with the Jedi. Your heart thumps torturously in its cage before you abandon your futile attempt to chase sleep. You find yourself at the window, sliding it open quietly as the breeze rushes in to kiss your face. Coruscant is beautiful and silent at this time of night, with only the whispers of distant sounds of the city blowing past you. 
The building ledge meets your bare feet when you slide over the window, and the distance from you to the ground is dizzying. Your palms and feet begin to feel slippery from sweat as your thoughts begin to spiral, fear of falling weakening you. You force yourself to shuffle closer to the bridge, focusing on controlling your movement as you do. 
And yet somehow, it’s all so freeing from this far up. No restrictions, no eyes on you, and all the troubles in the galaxy seem so small at this height. You could fall. Or you could keep going. The fear wasn’t what mattered, what mattered was that you were here and alone and it felt safer than you have felt in years. 
You force yourself to keep moving, ignoring the sweat gathering at the nape of your neck. Once you reach the bridge, you quickly jump onto it and hurry towards the gardens. 
The moons make the night soft with their hazy light. You swear that the temple seems so much more powerful in this light, with fewer Jedi wandering the grounds. They spare you a glance when you run past, your nightgown fluttering behind you. 
General Skywalker is the first thing you notice when you reach the garden, twirling a flower in his hands. It looks almost out of place with him, delicateness contrasting the strength of his hands. You get the feeling that he knows you’re there, despite the quietness of your arrival and the fact that you’ve been almost holding your breath as you watch him.  
“It won’t be a real marriage, you know. I love Padme, and I’ll love her til I die.” Ah, yes. Padme had warned you about this— about the intensity of his affection. Anakin Skywalker is not a man who works in subtleties. You hold back a scoff at his arrogance, choosing instead to clasp your hands in front of your nightgown and nod. 
“I don’t ask for your affection, General. Nor your companionship. I would, however, like for us to be allies.” The light of the planet’s four moons is muted in the garden, distorted by the thick layer of clouds and it makes the moment feel private. But you’ve been a double agent for long enough to know that there are always ears and eyes. You hold your tongue in fear of revealing something that could expose your mission just to get General Skywalker’s favor. 
General Skywalker clenches his jaw and drops the flower, studying you before nodding quietly. The flower is crushed under his boot as he stalks towards you. 
“But-” Your breath catches in your throat as you look into his eyes because he’s… pretty. You hadn’t thought of it before now, but as the moons’ lights fall so gently onto him, he seems ethereal. “But you will have to fake your affection, General. If you are unable to do that, I will respect that, but I’m afraid that would mean that you wouldn’t be suited for this mission.” 
“Padme recommended me for this mission, didn’t she?” General Skywalker asks you quietly, and you bite back a sigh at his obsession but find yourself nodding, albeit hesitantly. “Then the matter is settled, milady.” He leans in towards you, and you are lost in his eyes. 
“The matter is far from settled,” Master Kenobi’s sharp voice cuts through. You step back from Anakin, pressing your hand gently on your collarbone as your heart pounds against your ribcage. Your ears ring with embarrassment at the closeness that the Jedi Master had found you two in. 
“Agreed, Master Kenobi. I propose that General Skywalker join me within a month’s time on the planet. We will rendezvous somewhere we’ll be caught, publicly but also by my handmaidens.” 
“Force their hands,” Master Kenobi says, rubbing his jaw with the pads of his fingers as he thinks through the details of your plan. 
“I take issue with one large part, milady,” General Skywalker objects. He looks irritated, as he mostly has within the short time that you’ve interacted with him. Is this how he is as a lover? If so, no wonder Padme left him. 
Master Kenobi sighs aggravatedly and waves at the General, urging him to continue. “Padawan, I’d like to finish this conversation before the sun rises.” 
“I’ve got the feeling that it’ll do more than raise a few eyebrows if the Queen suddenly gets a new husband, all while one of the Jedi Knights and padawan to one of the greatest masters is… what, on a mission?” 
You smile grimly at his question. 
“There’s an easy answer to that question, General.” General Skywalker narrows his eyes at you in suspicion. “You’ll have to fake your death.” 
385 notes · View notes
stardust-kenobi · 2 years
Text
Look At Me
Anakin x Plus Size Fem!Reader
Word count: 1k
Warnings: 18+, established relationship, smut, fingering, improper use of the force (duh), body insecurities, anakin being a lil sweetie🥹
A/N: I haven’t written for ani in so long. I am so excited to write for him again!!!
Request for @darthxdaddi 💕
Tumblr media
Supple caresses traced your nipple as Anakin’s fingers navigated your body. You breathed out in the anticipation of what he planned to do to you.
Anakin was annoyed. He was frustrated. You’d talked down on yourself one too many times tonight, and he wouldn’t stand it not one second longer. The self-conscious thoughts would never leave you alone, and you felt as though you’d never overcome them. You carried extra weight, something you’d struggled with your whole life, and it broke Anakin’s heart when you’d talk negatively about yourself around him. He loved you…every single inch of you.
Every time you looked into a mirror all you saw were your imperfections throughout your body, but all Anakin saw was perfection.
“I’m going to show you just how beautiful you are to me” He whispered against your ear as he hovered above you. Your pants remained snug against your skin, but he would have you out of them soon enough.
“Ani…the party” You whimpered. He’d pulled you away from your friends at the gathering you were hosting, back to your bedroom to shut you up and worship your body.
“They’ll be fine, they won’t even notice we’re gone,” he began, “unless you get too loud” he giggled. Stars, that fucking laugh. He’d be the death of you.
“We have to be quick” You insisted, giving in to his lips pressed gently against the skin of your neck.
Anakin scoffed playfully, “I don’t need much time”
Anakin tried so hard not the abuse the force, he really did, but the temptation to pleasure you always took over any willpower he held. The phantom vibration against your clit caused your body to jolt suddenly.
“Shit…Maker, I never get tired of that” You smirked, your head thrown back in an expression of satisfaction as it rubbed soft circles between your legs.
He removed his robes and shirt, leaving himself only his pants. In the meantime, you tried to pull your leggings from your body, but Anakin quickly stopped you.
“I got you, pretty girl” He cooed, sweeping in to pull the material from your legs himself, bringing your undergarments with them. Anakin moaned at the sight of your body, as he always did every time he saw it come to view. Every curve was a dream to him, Anakin could stare at you forever and never grow tired of that view.
The tingling sensation remained on your sensitive bud, even as Anakin’s actual fingers found their way to your soaked entrance.
“Always ready for me, aren’t you?” He teased, feeling how aroused you were already.
You whimpered and nodded to him, needing to feel any part of him inside of you now. The curling of his digits as they slid into your cunt sent a shiver of pleasure through your core. You rocked your hips against his hand as he pumped them steadily.
You leaned up, inching toward his lips. He met you halfway, devouring you with the most passionate of kisses, his tongue spilling over his lips and into your mouth.
Keeping his pace with the motions of his fingers, he pulled his lips from yours to let him explore your body with his mouth. Both of you tried hard to keep quiet, but as he reached more sensitive areas upon your skin, you whimpered just a little louder.
The use of the force against your clit was relentless, and grew more intense as Anakin pumped his digits faster now. A fluttering of pleasure coiled in your belly with the approach of your orgasm. He could always get you off so quickly with just his fingers, so his twisted use of the force was just cheating at this point, but you wouldn’t dare complain.
He sensed that you were close, and ripped away his fingers quickly before suddenly burying his cock inside you as you came. The sudden pressure and fullness intensified your climax. He fucked you passionately, but rough, overstimulating all of your senses and causing a very loud crying moan to leave your lips. The unbelievable sensation forced your eyes shut, but Anakin wasn’t having that. Not at all.
“Look at me, baby, right here” he commanded ever so gently while he thrusted himself into you, fucking you through your orgasm, “so perfect, and all mine”
Stars, it was all too much, it felt too fucking good. His eyes shot daggers into your own, his brows pressing together as your pussy clenched tightly around him. 
“Fuck, Anakin” You cried out, and he chuckled in aroused amusement of your delicate state.
“You look so pretty when you come” He praised, giving you no time to wind down from your high as he fucked you harder, chasing his own release now.
You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him close to you while he reveled in the slickness of your release. Anakin always knew how to be so gentle with you when he wanted to be, and somehow even with the quick pace of his thrusts, there was passion and gentleness in the way he handled you, and the way his hands roamed every inch of you as you lie pinned beneath him.
"I love you, Y/N" He breathed through his delicate moans, "You are so perfect"
Your heart swelled with love for him while the intimacy of your position heated the blood in your veins.
"Come inside me, Ani" You begged, not giving him much of a choice regardless, considering your ankles were locked around his waist. Just hearing those words was nearly enough for him, but as you pulled him in close to suck at the skin on his neck, he lost it, slowing himself and grunting desperately as his cum painted your walls.
You both tried to catch your breath quickly, as you knew there was a party to get back to, but nothing in the galaxy would've made you want to leave this moment.
"Don't you ever..." He began, still resting inside of you, "talk about yourself like that ever again"
The tone in his voice was intimidating, yet endearing, and you smiled warmly at him with a nod of agreeance. Anakin got up to gather your clothes as well as his own.
"Why? What happens if I do it again?" You teased.
"You just want to find out, don't you?" He laughed, before leaning down to plant one more kiss on your swollen lips.
-
314 notes · View notes
hanasnx · 1 year
Text
Kinktober: House of Amateurs - S1E5
Tumblr media
MINORS DNI 18+
SUMMARY: october 5th | thursday roleplays: brother’s best friend! x little sister! WC: 0.4k | CHARACTERS: anakin skywalker x f!reader WARNINGS: f!reader | dom!anakin | pnp | coitus | kinks: degradation | roleplay | implied: breeding kink | mentioned: nudes | unprotected sex | body image: “little skirt” | no y/n
KRAYT HOUSE M.LIST | NAVI | INBOX | @KRAYTHOUSE
Tumblr media
“What do you think he’d say? If he saw us together?”
“Why the fuck are you bringing him up? I don’t wanna think about him right now!” you whine, your hole eagerly slurping up your brother’s best friend, Anakin. “Fuck, I always knew you had a big cock.” you exhale, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he fucks harder at the comment.
“Yeah? You fucking would with how much staring you do.” he taunts, big hand clapping onto your shoulder to bend you further over your bed as he stands behind you. “Didn’t matter what I came around in, you kept giving my cock fuck-me eyes.”
“You were always hard!” you keen, and he snaps his hips against yours, slapping skin on skin. Your ass must be red from the impact.
“’Cause you’d follow me around in your little skirts,” he muses through his heaves, flexing his abdomen as he propels himself into you. His storming eyes explore the way your ass looks with your skirt bunched up around your waist. “Asking what I was doing, if I had a girlfriend. Acting fucking clueless.”
You cry out as he re-angles his hips, his splayed hand sliding down your back to shove your cheek into your mattress.
“Shut up.” he hisses, but he refuses to slow his roll, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. “Your brother’s asleep. You wanna get caught?” Anakin had crashed here, and waited until your brother was out cold to sneak up to your room. “Your parents have already been looking for a way to get rid of me. This’ll ban me from the household. You don’t wanna make a habit of fucking in my car, do you?” At the imagery of riding Ani in his shitty car has you rocking back onto his shaft, fucking yourself on him.
There’s no way that anyone who’d lend an ear to the debauchery occurring in this room wouldn’t know exactly what’s going on. Does he actually care or is he just using it to get you wet? You have no idea, but it’s working. Soak dripping down your thighs.
“Would suck if this’s the only time we get to do this,” he moans, large hands re-centering on the fat of your thighs, yanking you back into him. “Better make it count, right?” You can’t even respond, biting down onto your covers to gag yourself. “Been waiting to get inside this body since you sent me those stupid pictures on Snap. S’pathetic, how desperate you were.” His nails dig into your flesh, and you whimper. Every time pulls out, you feel so fucking empty, begging for the next second that he sheathes fully. “Can’t believe you’re letting me fuck you raw. Sure hope you’ve got a Plan B lying around.”
Tumblr media
597 notes · View notes
erinkeifer · 8 months
Text
The Informant
[Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!Fem Reader]
Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3
Summary: So, Anakin found out that you informed on him and Padmé at the Temple, leading to the end of his romance? Oh, your mistake. Just wait until he barges into your quarters to settle the score fairly.
Tumblr media
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI | brutal smut | hate sex | angst | mirror sex | slapping | reader's serious injury during sex (head smashed against the mirror) | blood | PiV unprotected | hair pulling | cursing | degradation | dom!Anakin | sub!Reader | reader is toxic af | no comfort | no aftercare Author note: Yes, I haven't written many warnings before, but I consider this story to be one of my favorites that I've written. I've edited it many times - today I'm sharing it in a completely different form than it was meant to be, and it was supposed to be much darker. However, I don't want any content drama- I'm coming back after a long break and I want peace, so I assure you that every brutal move described in this story is motivated by immense sexual frustration on BOTH sides.
Word Count: 3,5k
Anakin stood behind the corner when you were selling him. He was there, gazing at your face, which seemed to be proud of itself and could barely restrain its foolish grin because you thought you were executing a perfect plan. "General… Unfortunately, they were there again, together… I want the best for Master Skywalker, and I can't help but be concerned that perhaps he puts… THOSE feelings above the gravity of the mission..." you spoke to Kenobi with that artificially emphasized solemnity from beneath which protruded the most insidious idea. Anakin clenched his fists, struggling to listen to your report deliberately designed to undermine him. He didn't know you had seen him with Padme. You didn't know he had seen you when you were informing. For a while, you were entangled in blissful ignorance, but soon everything was about to end in the worst possible way. ................................................................................................................. Weeks had passed since that incident, weeks during which Anakin ceased to be himself towards you - yet he had no intention of telling you why. In the first days, your training sessions became more intense - when you fell, he wouldn't lend you a hand, and when you took a hit too hard, he had no intention of apologizing, and your days didn't end with a smile he used to give you. You were sure that maybe he had worse days, perhaps the Council was giving him a hard time… There was also another option that you considered, and although you couldn't say it out loud - you counted on it the most. Troubles with Padmé.
Your unhealthy desire to take the place of that woman overshadowed your common sense, and you convinced yourself of it day by day, implementing increasingly risky and far-reaching ideas into your life. Your latest one was soon to show its effects- it was about to explode when early this morning, you learned that the senator you despised had left the Order's gates. The relationship between Anakin and Padmé had come to an end, and you were glowing.
On that day, you didn't encounter Anakin in the Temple. Your usual training took place with Kenobi instead, and although the older Jedi tried not to convey any negative emotions that day, you felt a crisis atmosphere in the air. You didn't know the details and were unsure of what exactly was happening. In the morning, you questioned your friendly, usually well-informed guards if they knew where your Master might be, but each person you asked seemed to have the same rehearsed version they were allowed to share. Were the details crucial to you? Probably not, as the only thing that mattered to you was to sense the right moment to implement your next plan. A plan titled: a caring, concerned Padawan who gets what she wants.
As you returned to your quarters in the evening, the corridors seemed darker than usual. With no significant missions left for the day, you had lingered a bit too long in the cantina, and it would be a lie to say that during your time there, you hadn't thought about Anakin. Where he was, what he was doing, what he was feeling… But what did his feelings truly mean to you, when your hands reached for the knife that, though invisible, stabbed Anakin straight in the heart? You didn't know yourself, but ironically, you were certain that the pain that would accompany your achievement would be swept under the rug. At this hour, you passed no one in the corridors- the atmosphere was so chilly that you instinctively quickened your pace to reach your quarters as soon as possible, to freshen up and forget all the tension. The doors, which you always had to unlock first, turned out to be unlocked- you probably forgot to do so the last time you left your place, and knowing your absent-mindedness well, you didn't dwell on it too much, simply closing them behind you and shedding your outerwear without hesitation as you made your way to the bathroom.
Though you felt like you were shining, you weren't shining at all. When you looked at your reflection in the mirror, you focused on the dark circles under your tired eyes, and your hair was a mess. So, you reached for the comb and painstakingly untangled each strand of your hair, helping yourself with your fingers. Finally feeling that your hair was suitable for a neat ponytail, you grabbed the nearest hair tie within your reach and tied your hair back enough so it wouldn't bother you while washing your face. The first splash of water was a relief for your face, but before the water reached the temperature you expected, the clogged sink managed to fill halfway with water. However, this didn't stop you from finally being able to apply your favorite cleansing gel to your face and wash away the dirt from the whole day. Sudden pain. Sudden pain stole your senses as you bent down under the running water. Instinctively, you grabbed onto the porcelain countertop when you choked on the water - not from a single drop, not from a stream accidentally spraying into your nostrils. Your face submerged in the water standing in the sink, and there was a hand on your neck that didn't belong to you.
For a moment, you felt like you were in nightmares, which, although rare, when they did occur, manifested in their most intense form. You thought someone or something was using the Force on you, but the touch squeezing your throat was real. Desperately, you gasped for air as the mysterious hand impulsively pulled your face out of the water, and when your lashes were finally free of water, the answer to all your questions was found in the mirror. "M-master…?" you mumbled with a muffled voice, feeling water rushing into your sinuses. Anakin stood behind you, his face practically devoid of any emotion, which probably scared you the most in this picture. His eyes, with dilated pupils that seemed darker than ever, stared at your reflection in the mirror lifelessly and without a hint of empathy. "What do you want to happen next?" he asked in a cold, hoarse voice. "Master, I think I don't underst…" "I'm asking clearly. What do you want to happen next?" he interrupted, sensing that you were playing dumb by responding this way to his words. "I… I… Really…" you started to stammer, lowering your gaze from his reflection in the mirror, but he was quicker to interrupt you again. You felt the strong grip of his second, mechanical hand on your shoulder as he turned you towards him, so that you leaned back against the sink, and your face, though much lower due to your difference in height, was inches away from his face.
"You know what happened. No one had to tell you. You know she's gone, and you know who's behind it." he continued, his hand that was previously on your throat now gripping your chin. "Master, I really don't…" you began, wincing in pain as his hand tightened almost to the point of bruising on your chin. "You damn well know who… And I damn well know who… All I want is to hear it from you." he added through gritted teeth, and at that moment, you felt a hatred unlike any you had ever felt before - not even when facing the worst, hostile scum on missions.
"I… I…"
"Exactly. You. You. And if something had tempted me earlier… I would have been done with you long ago, but I decided to wait, maybe nothing would happen, and I'd ruin your life…" Skywalker continued with deadly seriousness, and you realized how utterly hopeless your situation was.
"Anakin… I didn't want to! I didn't want it to happen this way! I…" you could have continued shouting, if Anakin's finger hadn't found its way in a silencing gesture over your lips.
"This way… Funny. Funny, because you did. You wanted it to happen, but according to your delusional script." Anakin spoke, and you preferred to stay silent. You listened and wished the ground would swallow you whole, most of all, terrified by the realization that everything he said was true.
"And you know, delusional scripts of filthy bitches like you rarely come true, don't they?" he continued, holding onto his terrifyingly serious tone.
Overwhelmed by shock, all you could manage was a numb nod of disapproval - you couldn't squeeze out a single word, and Anakin didn't even expect you to. "Let's consider, though… How it would look in your little, stupid head…" he added after a moment, lowering his hand from your chin, leaving your delicate skin reddened from the strong grip. "Assuming I didn't see or hear what you did in the council, and I lived in blissful ignorance… You'd now play the hero and pretend in front of me that you have shreds of humanity left in you and want what's best for me, wouldn't you?"
"But… I didn't say that I…"
"And you didn't have to. Just thinking it was enough, wasn't it?" Anakin folded his arms across his chest as he spoke these words, and you would be inclined to admit that beneath his controlled demeanor, he seemed on the verge of exploding at any moment. You wanted to run away, but you couldn't. You wanted to defend yourself, but you had nothing to defend yourself with. You wanted to speak, but you had no words. "It's nice to ponder like this… 'What if'… But we're here and now, and you still haven't answered my first question..." Anakin continued, and upon hearing the mention of the question, you raised your gaze to look at him. "What do you want to happen next?"
Skywalker left you in complete emptiness, posing the question once again. You felt so depleted that you had no idea what to expect - from him, from yourself, from everything. Your heart rate quickened with each moment of silence, and this time, Anakin seemed genuinely eager for your response. "Oh, don't bother. Especially since I know very well what you want to happen next." Barely had you processed your Master's words in your mind when two strong hands grabbed you at hip level and turned your figure back towards the mirror. You leaned against the porcelain sink with your front while he stood behind you, just inches from your back, his gaze fixed on your figure in the mirror wild and filled with hatred. "Do you know you've hurt me?" he asked after another moment of silence, placing his both large hands on either side of you, enclosing you. "And you know it's going to hurt?" he added shortly after, not giving you time to respond, assuming you knew well what you had done.
"I know." you answered with a trembling voice, not really aware of which of the two questions you subconsciously answered to him. "Good." he replied with a terrifyingly calm voice, then you heard the clinking of the belt from behind, sending shivers down your spine. "Bend over." he growled, and you did as he commanded, trying to sneak glances at him in the mirror opposite. "Give me that." he added after a moment, pointing towards the bandage scissors lying closer within your reach, and you obediently handed them to him. Anakin snatched the scissors from your trembling hand and without further hesitation, swiftly cut your thin jumpsuit at the waistline with one quick motion, without considering whether it would injure your skin. You hissed sharply as you felt the blunt blade irritating your skin, and just a few seconds later, a shallow, bleeding cut on your skin could be seen from the hole.
He had no interest in bothering with the zipper on your jumpsuit when he had a sharp tool at his disposal. The material split precisely at the cut, allowing him to tear it further and rip it around the circumference, so Skywalker didn't wait any longer. He yanked on the exposed fabric, and when he could afford it, he began to pull down the lower part of your torn jumpsuit. "You fuckin' slut…" he muttered when he saw that the part of the material he was pulling down revealed your bare ass without any underwear. You had your head bowed down, but upon hearing his words and being aware of what was happening, you smiled to yourself at the corner of your mouth. Your overly confident, slutty smile quickly vanished from your face as you opened your mouth in shock when Anakin entered you without warning - so quickly and desperately that part of the carelessly pulled-down fabric of your jumpsuit irritated his balls as he tried to bottom out. "Fuck…" he muttered through clenched teeth as you let out a long, dull moan. From his throat emanated a range of sounds that you had never heard before - even before he fully filled you, his breath was heavy and distinctly audible, but it was only now that you could hear the frustration pouring out of his vocal cords. His gaze in the mirror, aiming straight into your eyes, was both humiliating and arousing. You wanted it, and you couldn't hide it. If anyone was to destroy you after the failure of your plans, it was him - Anakin Skywalker. The man who was currently destroying you in the way you had dreamed of. "Anakin!" you yelled, your voice growing increasingly breathless by the second as he began to rhythmically pound into you. "What do you want? Should I go harder??" he grunted, gripping your hips tightly, occasionally tugging down on the shreds of your jumpsuit material that bunched up from his movements in frustration. He initiated it sloppily and desperately - without any preparation, standing behind you in his black robes, his cock protruding from the unbuttoned fly, teasing you with every dangling stride. Hopelessly, you nodded in agreement to his words, slowly allowing yourself to be completely consumed by the sensation he was giving you, but your lack of a clear response only fueled his frustration further. "Stop nodding and speak. I want to hear it." he demanded in a louder tone, his teeth almost constantly clenched. "I want… I want it harder…" you mumbled, unaware that you had just revealed to Anakin what he feared most - pleasure from what he was doing to you. He didn't want pleasure - he wanted a lesson that you would remember for the rest of your life - a lesson that would engrave into your mind that those who live by the sword, die by the sword. "You want it harder, you'll fucking get it harder." he whispered gruffly into your ear just before he began to thrust into you with all his length. With each forceful thrust, his partially exposed lower abdomen collided with the tattered fabric of your jumpsuit top, and with each deep penetration and withdrawal, you screamed in ecstasy. He wanted to see how he filled you inch by inch, so at one point, he hiked up part of his robe and looked down, proud of depriving you of your sanity.
"You fucking wanted this, huh? You fucking wanted this!" he grunted, instinctively quickening his movements, causing your body to arch to the point where the torn seams of your jumpsuit began to give way. When your eyes met again in the mirror, Skywalker couldn't resist and grabbed your tied-up hair with one of his hands that wasn't occupied with your hips. As you felt the intense tug, something inside you snapped – you didn't want to fight Anakin, but instinctively, you raised one of your hands, previously resting on the sink, and without knowing where you were aiming, you struck him in the neck.
"Whoa… woah… What? Don't like that anymore? What were you trying to do? Go on!" he paused his movements for a moment, holding onto the spot where you hit him for a few seconds before slowly continuing, leaving you completely disoriented and unsure how to explain. "Come on, slap me! Slap me!" he continued in a terrifyingly excited tone, and the slower he made his movements, waiting for your reaction, the more he motivated you to fulfill his demand. You swung your open hand towards his face, but from the angle you were in, you couldn't do it with force, and your hand barely touched and grazed his cheek.
"I said slap me, not grab me! Come on, try again, show me what you've go..." he interrupted as you made a second attempt, managing to slap him with an open hand to the face in the manner he expected. Initially, he fell silent in surprise, then let out a psychopathic laugh.
"Was that so hard, bitch?" he muttered through laughter, not giving you a chance to respond, completely disconnecting you from your senses as he began to fuck you with a speed your body couldn't handle. You bounced off him like a lifeless ragdoll as he used you like a fleshlight. Your babbling and moans were pathetic and unintelligible- clearly showcasing to Anakin how empty-headed you were at that moment, and he seemed newly recharged, ready to drain every last bit of energy from you. Both of you screamed, the mirror fogging up from your aggressive breaths, and your hands trembled, struggling to find stability on the porcelain sink. You saw sweat flooding him, his curly locks sticking to his forehead, framing his wild eyes, whose beautiful blue irises were barely noticeable with his dilated pupils. You saw the trace of your small handprint on his cheek, but the more aggressive thrusts you took, the blurrier your vision became.
"An… Anakin… I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" Sudden impact. A sudden impact momentarily cut you off from the world, and you began to see stars. Not from a spectacular orgasm, not from pleasure. His mechanical hand pushed the back of your head towards the mirror as your forehead shattered it into pieces, creating a spiderweb of glass adorned with your fresh blood. Perhaps both of you were shocked at that moment, so Anakin slowed his movements, but he had no intention of stopping, wide-eyed as he saw you disoriented and bloodied in the reflection of the shattered mirror. Seeing yourself, you felt like screaming, but you felt a hybrid of physical pain and the beginnings of an orgasm that robbed you of your voice. While adrenaline surged in Anakin to a dangerous level, he began to tremble. He began to pulse inside you, feeling on the brink of his own orgasm even amidst the awareness that he might have seriously injured you.
"M-master… I think… I think I'm bleeding." he heard your words as if through a fog, hearing only the buzzing in his own head signaling that he was about to climax. Your elbows buckled beneath you as his weight involuntarily pressed down on your body, and Anakin began to gasp chaotically with his head on your shoulder as his movements became erratic, and his warm seed filled you from within. You groaned with him, unsure if it was from pain or from finding yourself on the edge but not even attempting to explain it to yourself. Skywalker froze inside you for a moment, still pulsating, fearing that if he pulled out, his unstable trembling knees would give way under him, so he breathed warm breaths on your neck, unable to utter a word.
As soon as he pulled out, and you lost the support on his silhouette, you slid down, banging your knees against the cabinet under the sink and landed half-sitting on the floor. You saw Anakin tripled, looking up at him with tears-filled eyes as he stood, his hands trembling against the edges of the sink, and gazed at you with a hint of fear in his eyes. But as Padme returned to his mind, fear subsided, and he saw a successful revenge. He saw a conquest that wanted to be conquered, and he achieved it in the most unexpected way - unexpected even for himself.
"Anakin…" you whispered with a broken voice, smudging the blood flowing down your eyebrow with the tip of your finger, and he just watched, at a loss for words.
"It hurts… Can you…"
"I warned you it would hurt." he interrupted with a hoarse, dark voice as he fastened his belt and adjusted his clothes, clearly preparing to leave. Initially, he intended to leave without a word, took a few steps, casting a final glance at the shattered mirror, but paused at the door upon hearing your sobs.
"Grab a towel when you go to the Med Bay. Nobody wants a mess." he uttered in a cold tone without even making eye contact with you, then tossed you one hanging on the nearest hanger.
"Tomorrow morning, you're expected at training. I don't care what condition you're in. Alive or barely alive." he added before disappearing and slamming the door behind him, leaving you alone with your worries. You sat there, wounded and exhausted. Bruised and broken. Your Master - Anakin Skywalker - destroyed you, and you'll thank him for it.
421 notes · View notes
luminoustarlight · 10 months
Text
As Fate Would Have It | DILF!Anakin Skywalker
Anakin Skywalker gets a new assistant, who also happens to be his favorite OnlyFans performer.
◂ previous ▸ chapter two
rating: explicit | pairing: anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 3.7k | read on ao3
warnings: modern!au, undisclosed age gap, SMUT [use of toys (dildo and fleshlight), mutual masturbation, squirting, watching of pornography]
Tumblr media
After midnight is Anakin’s favorite time of the day. His kids have been asleep since 8:30 pm— their weekday curfew— and he’s finally stopped working on the project he brought home from work. It kept him from watching 101 Dalmatians with Luke and Leia but “it needed to be done.” 
He completed it well after the twins went to sleep, his neck was aching, and he needed to unwind. Now, he’s settled on the left side of his king bed, back propped against the headboard and his tablet waiting for him on the nightstand. He’s been thinking about this all day. Ever since he got the notification at 1:48 p.m. that HoneySuckle uploaded a new video. 
While he was at work. On a very busy day, he might add. As much as he wanted to get away to watch it immediately, he couldn’t. But now he has uninterrupted time to enjoy himself and the woman he’s about to watch. 
Anakin watches HoneySuckle exclusively. For over three years now, he has been subscribed to her page for $7.99 a month, which is an absolute disgrace to the quality of content she puts out. That’s why he tips her at least $200 for each video. It’s a number that hardly means a thing to Anakin. But to HoneySuckle, it is everything. It’s a cushion for incidentals. For the flat tire on her Mini Cooper. The vet bill for her orange tabby, Panini. She has expressed her thanks to him in their private messages, but it never seems to be enough. 
Their casual conversations are never enough. 
It comes as a great surprise to Anakin to see that her newest video is dedicated to him. Him— Anakin Skywalker AKA skyguy81. AKA HoneySuckle’s biggest fan and number one supporter. 
Squirting for Sky 🖤
He’s never clicked on anything faster in his life. The edges of his brain are beginning to fog. The mere thought of Honey getting off to the thought of him makes goosebumps prickle along his skin and his cock begin to swell. But then he sees what she’s wearing. Or, not wearing for that matter. Usually, she’ll begin videos with a full set on. Whether it’s a lacy bra and panties, a teddy, or a babydoll, teasingly taking off her lingerie is part of her brand. 
Not in this video, though. In this new 23 minute video, she is wearing a black garter and thong with roses embroidered in the mesh along her hip bones. Sheer black stockings are pulled up to her thighs and as she spreads her legs— dear God— Anakin sees that her panties are crotchless. 
Every video is expertly angled so only the bottom half of her face is on camera. She’s mentioned to Anakin in the past that this is not her full time job and therefore some anonymity is important. He doesn’t need to see her whole face to know she is beautiful. 
“I bought this just for you,” Honey says directly to Anakin. “You said you liked black. I hope you like this.”  She goes to grab the vibrator next to the pink dildo on her bed. 
“I love it,” Anakin mumbles. Running her hand over one of her bare breasts, she turns on the vibrator. The familiar hum of the toy reminds Anakin to put on his headphones. Just in case. 
Now with that taken care of, Anakin can begin taking care of himself. It doesn’t take long for the guy to get hard when he’s watching Honey. Hell, he can just think about her and he’ll be horny. The melodic cadence to her voice, the angelic sounds she makes when she cums, the lustful desire to bury himself in her cunt. She is the only woman he has desired since his wife and he doesn’t even know her name. But he knows the curves of her body as if he’s felt them with his own two hands. God, how he wishes he could touch her, kiss her, pleasure her. 
It’s pathetic. He is pathetic for wanting the impossible. Anakin Skywalker is a smart man. A genius in many regards. Yet he’s delusional enough to think her messages might mean something. That this video dedicated to him means something.
Of course, it doesn’t. Everything about his conversations with Honey is transactional. It’s part of her job. That’s it. Nothing more. You’re not special. 
But fuck, does it make his cock hard thinking this is all for him. Well, this is for him. The title of the video says so. With her legs spread nice and wide, Anakin can see how wet she has become from the vibrator on her clit. 
Stiff and dribbling precum on his belly, Anakin wraps his long fingers around his equally long shaft. He swipes his palm over the tip to lubricate the rest of his dick. Honey has now turned off the vibrator and grabs the dildo. Despite its playful color, it’s a formidable size. A similar 7 inches to Anakin’s cock, she opens her mouth and the tip disappears. Then a little bit more… and a little more… until she’s gagging. She pulls it out of her mouth with a loud gasp. Messy strings of saliva fall on her chin and chest. 
“Fuck,” she breathes. “I love choking on your cock. Feeling it so deep in my throat until I can’t breathe.” 
This sends a jolt through Anakin’s whole body. His cock lurches in his hand and he knows all too well that his hand will simply not suffice tonight. He pauses Honey’s video and reluctantly gets off of bed to retrieve his Fleshlight from his hidden stash in the closet. Usually, his hand does just fine. He’s used to it by now. Being a single dad in his early forties and the CEO of his own company, he doesn’t have time to go on dates. He has one woman on his rolodex of hookup numbers and even then, he doesn’t contact her often. Usually it’s her who needs him. He prefers it that way, anyway. 
Anakin returns to his bed with the barely used Fleshlight in hand and immediately resumes the video. Honey continues to give the dildo a blowjob, making Anakin ache for it to be his cock in her mouth. He can only imagine how warm it is. How he’d make her relax so he can shove his entire length down her throat. How she’d sound choking on his dick and not some pink toy. 
Again, she holds it in her mouth until her lungs are screaming for air. Anakin ruts his hips up into his fist. He’s waiting to use the Fleshlight until she puts the toy in her cunt. 
Which is right now. She lines the tip of it to her opening, pushing the head in teasingly before removing it and dragging it along her folds. 
“Have you been good today? Do you deserve to fuck me?” The seductive nature of Honey’s voice is so familiar to Anakin, yet every time dirty talk drips from her lips, his spine tingles. 
“Please, Honey,” Anakin whispers, hovering the opening of the Fleshlight over his cock. “Put it in, baby.”
As if obeying his command, Honey pushes the toy into her hole. At the same time, Anakin lowers his own toy onto himself. The tight Fleshlight sucks in his dick and it damn near has Anakin’s eyes rolling to the back of his head. He’d forgotten what it feels like… how similar yet different it is to real pussy. Fuck, what he would do to have his cock in Honey’s actual cunt. The best he can do is use his overactive imagination. 
Honey is thrusting the dildo in and out of her and soft moans fill Anakin’s ears. He yanks the Fleshlight up and down—a lazy way of using it, he knows— but it does the job. “That’s it…” he breathes. His heartbeat is racing impossibly fast, chasing down an orgasm that is going to arrive far too soon. “I fuck you so well, don’t I, Honey?” 
“Mm…” she whimpers, pushing the toy deeper and further into her.  “Your cock’s so big… fills me up so well. Feels so good!” 
“You have no idea how good I could make you feel,” Anakin growls. In his mind she’s on her back, just as she is now. Her knees are pushed up to her ears and Anakin is thrusting into her tight hole to no end. He’s so deep, he can see himself in her stomach. He kisses her, finally tasting her on his own lips. Their tongues are doing a dance, his fingers are on her clit for maximum pleasure. And she’s screaming his name. She can’t believe how good he fucks. How he, at 42 years old, can last as long as he has. “I’m not fucking geriatric,” he’d say. He’d make her cum at least twice before he does, just to prove a point. 
Honey then takes the dildo out of her cunt and brings it back up to her mouth. Anakin removes the Fleshlight. She hollows her cheeks around it whilst reaching for the vibrator. She turns it back on and returns it to her clit. Her toes curl at the sensation and a moan is muffled by the cock in her mouth. 
“Let me hear you,” Anakin encourages, no matter how silly and pointless it is to do so. “Please, Honey. I love hearing you moan.” 
She takes the dildo out of her mouth to announce that she’s going to cum. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!” 
She’s squirming on the bed, mouth shaped in that glorious ‘O’. As her orgasm rattles through her body, she keeps the vibrator on her swollen nub and returns the dildo to her pussy. Anakin follows suit and sheathes his cock once again, thrusting his hips up to the speed Honey is fucking herself. 
“I hope you…fuck, that feels good,” she is interrupted by her own pleasure. It’s her authenticity that Anakin adores and enjoys the most. It never feels like she’s performing. “I hope you’re making yourself feel as good as I feel. Are you fucking your hand? Your mattress? A pillow? I bet you wish you were in my tight cunt. Don’t you?” 
“Yes,” Anakin breathes. He is on fire now. He’s not sure the coil in his belly could get any tighter. He’s going to cum soon and Honey hasn’t even squirted yet. There’s five minutes left of the video. “You wouldn’t believe—ah, fucking hell— wouldn’t believe how badly I want to fuck you.” 
“I’m gonna squirt! Oh my God…please cum for me. Cum while I squirt for you!” Honey removes the dildo as the clear liquid sprays from her cunt. Anakin abandons the Fleshlight and takes over with his tried and true hand. He’s pumping quickly, he’s mesmerized by Honey and how she squirts a little more each time she puts the dildo back inside of her and pulls it back out. Her back is arching off of the bed as she drops both toys and cums one last time. 
Anakin is cumming now, too. His sack twitches up toward him while he releases his load on his belly. He stuffs a fist into his mouth to silence his moan. He bites down on his own hand with fervor, and it hurts. He isn’t completely finished when he hears her utter the words ‘last video.’ 
Wait, what? 
He needs to go back. Surely, he didn’t hear her correctly. 
“I hope you all enjoyed yourselves while watching. I know I did. This is a bit of a last hurrah for me. I’m starting a new job next week and I just don’t think I’ll have the time to upload, so this might be my last video. Thank you for all of the support over the last three years. I had a great time. Kisses, HoneySuckle.” 
And that’s the end of it. Anakin is stunned. He watches her video again. And then once more. There's a lilt to her voice that makes Anakin think she is happy to be done with this. He should be happy for her. But he hangs onto the word ‘might’.  
Honey said this might be her last video. Anakin shouldn’t feel so fucking relieved that his favorite OnlyFans performer might still upload videos. What is wrong with him? He has no real connection to her whatsoever yet he feels disappointed by the idea of not having her videos in his life anymore. 
Fuck it. He sends her a $500 tip, a little message and goes to wash up. 
.
.
.
Panini is pressed against your side, purring contentedly while you stroke his back absently. You’re wrapped in a sherpa cozy in bed while watching The Great British Bake Off. It’s your bedtime show. You’ve probably seen every series at least 3 times, simply because it’s the show you put on to go to sleep. But most of the time, you end up staying up to watch it as if you’ve never seen it before. 
Your phone lights up with a notification. You glance at it but immediately do a double take. You grab your phone off of your nightstand and stare at the screen with your jaw dropped. 
Skyguy81 sent you a tip!
$500
You pause in the middle of Prue Leith giving her thoughts on someone’s Showstopper. You swipe right to open the message.
That was spectacular, Honey. From the lingerie to the beautiful way you cum. You certainly know how to put on a show. I must admit, I was a bit disappointed to hear that it might be your last video. You are the only performer I watch. I will miss you. I wish you the best of luck with your new endeavor. 
And I know what you are going to say. “It’s too much.” It is not. Please accept the tip as a token of my appreciation. You helped me feel less lonely on the days I needed someone the most. - Sky 
Why do you feel like you’re about to cry? Sky has been your top supporter since you began uploading videos during COVID. It was just supposed to be a way to make ends meet. To pay off the student loans and any other financials that came up. The tips started off relatively small. $50 here, $75 there. He was the first to give you a $100 tip. 
Then, after about a year, he upped it to $200 after each video. Your thank you messages to him turned into conversations. Short ones, never deep or personal, yet you feel like you know him. You feel like…no, it’s silly. You feel like he could be a friend. If you both weren’t hiding behind a screen and fake names, maybe you actually could be. 
You begin typing a response. 
Sky- I am going to say it anyway. THAT IS WAY TOO MUCH!!! You have been far too generous to me over the years. I don’t deserve it. 
 He replies in a matter of seconds. 
I have to disagree, Honey. I wish I could do more for you. 
Like what? 
I would take you out to a nice dinner. Perhaps share a bottle of wine while we get to know each other. 
Would you take me home after?
Whose home? 
Whichever you’d like. 
I’d take you back to your house and leave you with a goodnight kiss.
That’s all? 
You would like more? 
What the hell are you doing? Are you actually flirting with this man? He could be 60 years old and bald! Not that there’s anything wrong with being 60 or bald, but come on. You’re in your 20s. You have to have some limit. You stare at his username. Skyguy81. Maybe 81 is his birth year? So, that would put him at 42. 42 isn’t too bad… 
Oh, what the hell. It’s not like you’re actually gonna meet this guy, right? 
Well, I might wear something special underneath my dress. Something that I paid for with the money you’ve given me. Wouldn’t you want to see it? 
Yes. I would. 
What would you do if you took me home? 
When you don’t hear back from Sky after thirty minutes, you assume he fell asleep. It is nearly 1 a.m. on a Thursday night. Or is it early Friday morning? Regardless, he probably has work in the morning. 
With a rather loud yawn, you decide it’s time for you to go to sleep, too. 
.
.
.
Luke and Leia barge into Anakin’s room at 7:30, dressed and ready to go to school while their dad is still fast asleep. He must have slept through his alarm. Luke is poking him in the side and urging him to wake up. 
“Alright, I’m up,” he grumbles, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Have you two eaten?” 
Leia nods. “Eggos and orange juice.” 
“I wanted a Toaster Strudel,” Luke says. 
“And I told him we don’t have any Toaster Strudels,” replies his twin sister. 
“Yes we do! You just didn’t look hard enough.” 
Anakin pinches the bridge of his nose. He feels a headache coming on. He didn’t drink last night, so why does he feel hungover? “Ahsoka ate the last one when she was here on Tuesday, remember?” 
“Oh yeah,” Luke recalls. 
“Dad, we’re gonna be late for school if you don’t get out of bed,” Leia says. 
Anakin checks the time on his phone. Your message from last night is at the bottom of his notifications. He already has five work emails to answer. His calendar pings with reminders about meetings and his assistant’s retirement party. “Bring your things to the front door. I’ll be down in a few minutes.” 
In the rush of getting himself dressed, not only does he put on two different pairs of socks but two different pairs of shoes, too. He doesn’t realize this until after he enters the office and Dorothy, attentive as ever, points it out as he’s walking past her desk and into his office. 
Dorothy is 74 years old, a widow, and owl fanatic. She has been Anakin’s assistant since he started the company 20 years ago. “Did you get dressed in the dark, Mr. Skywalker?” 
Even after two decades of Anakin’s insistence on calling him by his first name, Dorothy continues to defy him. “I overslept,” Anakin answers. “I was rushing to get ready because you know how Leia gets when she’s late to anything.” 
Dorothy nods. “Yes, she is the most punctual 9 year old I know. I presume you did not eat breakfast.”
“No, I didn’t.” Anakin opens his emails. 
“Why don’t I get you an egg sandwich from Dexter’s after I retrieve a matching pair to one of your shoes.” 
“I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t have to.” 
Anakin cracks a smile. Dorothy has always been two steps ahead of Anakin. She’s been somewhat of a mother figure to him over the years. She believed in him when no one else did. How many people are going to put their faith in a cocky 22 year old with wild engineering innovations? Dorothy was there when his wife passed away and nannied the twins off and on for a few years while Anakin regained his bearings. His heart contracts. He is truly going to miss her. “Do you have to retire, Dorothy?” 
“I’m afraid so,” Dorothy replies with a bittersweet smile. “You will be just fine. And I trust my successor will attend to your needs just as well as I have. I picked her myself. I know exactly what you need in an assistant, Mr. Skywalker.” 
Did Dorothy just wink at Anakin before leaving his office? What the hell does she have up her sleeve? 
.
.
.
Gold and brown leaves dance across the concrete in the courtyard of Skywalker Enterprises. The autumn air bites at your cheeks and you’re thankful you decided to wear a beanie along with your plaid pea coat. 
You notice Dorothy’s silver hair before the rest of her as she walks toward you with two cups of something hot in her hands. “Good morning, Y/N.” she hands you the cup. 
“Good morning, Dorothy,” you reply with a smile. You lift off the lid to smell the contents. The steam tickles your nose before recognizing the warm spices of Chai. “You remembered my drink order?” 
“Of course.” Dorothy sits across from you. “I trust you went over the files I sent you regarding Mr. Skywalker? How are you feeling about the job?” 
You take a meager sip of your Chai latte. It’s still too hot to drink. “I read all of them at least three times. He doesn’t seem too high maintenance.”
“Far from it,” Dorothy replies. 
“But…” you begin, wondering if you should even mention it. 
“What is it, dear?” 
“I just find it a little strange that I haven’t met him. I would’ve assumed he’d be part of the hiring process. Isn’t it important we get along?” 
“Oh, don’t worry about that. Anakin gets along with everyone! He’s a charmer,” Dorothy sips on her drink. “He entrusted me with finding a replacement for myself because I know him better than anyone. I know his needs better than he knows them. And you, my dear, have shown you are more than capable to take over. Your references spoke very highly of you.” 
Right. Your references— one of which was your best friend who pretended to be a famous influencer who you “assisted” for 2 years after college. The other was a family you nannied for for only 2 weeks while the wife was out of town and the dad thought he could pull off some fantasy of fucking the nanny. The only good thing that came out of it was him telling you he’d give you a stellar reference for your next job. Turns out he wasn’t lying. 
“So, I’ll start on Monday? By myself? No shadowing or anything?” 
Dorothy nods. “I will officially be retired by 5 p.m. today. After which, Mr. Skywalker is yours.”
Don’t you wish. You’ve seen photos of him in Forbes. It’s an understatement to say he’s handsome. And it would be a lie to say you didn’t apply for the job because of his looks. By some miracle you were chosen out of hundreds of applicants and hired. You’ve signed the papers already. You’re officially on the Skywalker Enterprises payroll. Of course, you’ll be on probation for 90 days but Dorothy seems confident you’ll be a good fit. 
Hopefully you will live up to Anakin Skywalker’s expectations.
Tumblr media
remember to reblog and leave comments to support authors!
◂ series masterlist ▸ chapter two
874 notes · View notes
im-poe-dameron · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
THE ROCKROSE AND THE THISTLE
a/n: this wip has been in my drafts for so long i kind of forgot it was a thing. but seeing anakin in the new ahsoka show really kicked up my love for him. originally i was gonna post this as one long part, but it made more sense for it to be broken up. so i've decided to split this up into two parts. i may come back and add more to their story one day, but for now this is it. i hope you enjoy my labor of love for this man.
summary: after the galatic republic fell to its knees, whispers of anakin skywalker begin to surface. claims that he was no longer the hero they once knew, but a darkness they came to fear. darth vader. yet when he begins to call to you in dreams, you make a choice that might kill you in the end. you choose...to save him.
OR old friends meet now as enemies.
pairing: anakin skywalker x f!reader; darth vader x f!reader
each part has its own warnings, but this story as a whole is 18+ ONLY!
Tumblr media
➛ part one: the beginning
➛ part two: the end {COMING SOON}
70 notes · View notes
lovelybucky1 · 11 months
Text
Trailer Trash!Anakin NSFW Alphabet
Tumblr media
this wonderful au was created in part by @fuckmyskywalker 🫶🫶
warnings: AFAB!reader, substance use (smoking and alcohol), degradation, daddy kink, age gap, mentions of pregnancy, exhibitionism, vouyerism, public/semi-public sex, anakin is a bad person in this au, dead dove do not eat, 18+ minors DNI
masterlist
A = Aftercare- Unless you count a cigarette as aftercare, you won't be getting much. He likely won't kick you out of bed, but anything more than laying in bed together, sharing a smoke, and a little pillow talk is out of his wheelhouse.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of their partner’s)- He's an ass man all the way. He loves when you walk around in short shorts or just your underwear to show off your ass (only for him, though). He always has a hand on your ass to grab, pinch, squeeze, or slap it, no matter where you are.
C = Cum- As irresponsible as it is, he loves cumming inside you. He loves the idea of knocking you up and claiming you as his, but he's not a kid anymore. He understands the risks of making you his sweet little twinkie. If he can't cum inside you, he wants to cum on your face. He hates pulling out if it's not to paint your pretty face.
D = Dirty secret- He apparently got a girl knocked up after a truck stop hookup. When she called him to tell him the news months later, he told her it was her problem. She should have kept her legs closed, after all.
E = Experience- He is very experienced. His ex-wife Padme was his first and the only woman he was with for seven years. At the beginning of their relationship, the sex was great. Steamy, full of passion and romance. After they got divorced, Anakin sowed his wild oats. At 26, he was still young and hot and it didn't take much effort to get women to go home with him.
F = Favorite position- Anakin is a lazy bastard. He likes it when you're on top and all he has to do is lay back and watch. He'll grope and mumble praise, but he expects you to do all the work. If he does take a more active role, it's to bend you over and fuck you from behind. He watches you ass and thighs jiggle with each thrust.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)- He's not too serious, but he isn't goofy either. He likes to tease and talk shit. When he laughs, he's laughing at you, not with you. And if you laugh at him, you'll suffer the consequences.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)- Anakin doesn't groom. Maybe he'll trim if it's really unruly, but for the most part he just lets it go. The only thing he shaves is his face.
I = Intimacy- If you're in a relationship, he'll be very intimate. Anakin is a passionate guy so if you're in love, he'll make your head spin. If it's just a hookup, the sex will be good but it will feel a little disconnected.
J = Jack off- This guy thinks with his dick. If he's not having sex, he's jerking off. Even in his older age, his sex drive hasn't gone down any. He's still as horny and desperate for pussy as he was when he was first married. His whole trailer is a biohazard. Don't shine a blacklight around there.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)- He likes to be called Dad or Daddy, especially if you have a significant age gap between you. He loves feeling like he's corrupting you and taking away your innocence, weather that's through sex or the use of substances. He also loves to degrade you because it makes him feel so powerful to reduce you down to nothing.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)- Literally anywhere. Anywhere in his trailer, on the porch, outside in the grass, in his car, against the hood of the car. He isn't picky but he is horny, so he'll take whatever he can get.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)- Seeing you in any kind of revealing clothing gets him going. Of course he doesn't want anyone else to see you that way. It's just for him to ogle at.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)- He wouldn't let you take too much control. He's a dom and he doesn't like when your head gets too big and you start giving him attitude.
O = Oral- Anakin loves getting head. He isn't ashamed to ask you for it and honestly, he almost expects it from you. He'll eat you out, but only so you'll reciprocate.
P = Pace- Anakin is deep and rough, but he takes his time if he can. When you're on top, he'll hold your hips to prevent you from going too fast, which is a subtle way to show his control over you. When he's on top, he'll keep his pace no matter how much you beg for it faster. He likes to drag it out and make it last, but don't underestimate his ability to have a quickie.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)- Anakin loves a quickie. Of course he prefers it when he has time to use you in all the different ways he wants to, but there's something so dirty about a quickie that he loves.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)- Anakin is not afraid to take risks, especially in the bedroom. As long as he's in charge, he doesn't care. He has some pretty unconventional sexual preferences, so he would be open to trying some things you suggest as well.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)- He's strong and can go for a while, but after years of chain smoking, he gets breathless easier. When you're on top, he can go as long as he wants, though he usually gets too impatient to drag it out. When he's on top, one round is his max.
T = Toys- Ankain would refuse to use any toys on you or let you use them even if he isn’t around. He says that you shouldn’t cum around anything other than his dick and he doesn’t want a greedy slut who needs more than what he can offer. He is a bit of a hypocrite, though, because he does have a toy he uses occasionally. A homemade Pringle can fleshlight. He stuffed a sponge inside the can and covered it with a condom and he fucks it occasionally. It’s not as good as a real cunt, but it gets the job done and hey, it was cheap.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)- All Anakin does is tease. He likes to see you squirm and suffer and he makes fun of you the whole time he tortures you. He'll make you beg for mercy but it likely won't be enough to get him to play nice. Anakin has always had a reputation for ruining nice things, and it's no different when it comes to you.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)- Anakin isn't too loud when he moans. He will groan and swear under his breath, but most of the noise he makes comes from him running his mouth. He talks so much shit the whole time during sex. His dirty talk is effective at making your head spin and your cunt throb, but sometimes you wish he would just shut up. He loves the sound of his own voice.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)- He likes to go to strip clubs to watch the dancers like the pervert he is, but he can't afford to pay for a private dance or even to tuck a bill or two into their waist bands.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)- Anakin has strong, built arms from years of mechanic work, as well as weight lifting. He used to have defined abs but now he's a little softer around the middle. He still tries to keep fit, but with the amount of beer he drinks, it's difficult to counteract. He has shitty tattoos all over, most of which were done in someone's basement. His dick is big; your fingers just touch when you wrap your hand around him and it reaches so deeply inside of you.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)- He is always so fucking horny. He always wants you, but if he's been drinking, the slightest thought of you turns him on. He wants you anywhere and everywhere. He doesn't care if he comes off as a dirty old man because he is one.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)- If he's sober, he'll stay awake for a while. If he's drunk, however, he will only stay awake long enough to have a cigarette.
353 notes · View notes
distortionbobble · 1 year
Text
Royal Flowers Chapter 3
series masterlist
previous | next
pairing: anakin skywalker x f! reader
series summary: A long, long, time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, a certain Jedi by the name of Anakin Skywalker meets you, the current Queen of Naboo and adopted cousin of Padme Amidala, and is tasked with protecting you by pretending to marry you. As a spy, you’ve infiltrated the Separatist ranks and are close to finding out the mastermind behind all of it. The fate of the galaxy is in your hands.
warnings: minors dni! ageless blogs dni! none this chapter (although it gets just a little steamy) but the series will have eventual smut, canon-level violence and just general warnings.
a/n: if anyone’s curious i based the combat style on judo! i’m no expert in judo i’ve just literally been watching “best judo fight” compilation videos so if anyone has any recommendations or corrections let me knoww okay thanks bye! 
Tumblr media
You can’t sleep. 
It’s been hours since you came out of the bathroom, the makeup scrubbed off of your face, skin raw from the heat of the shower. Anakin hadn’t even looked at you, and had only offered a grunt of acknowledgement when you had murmured a timid goodnight. 
You think you’re gonna lose your mind. You sit up in frustration with the aim of going down to the kitchens to get a glass of water, rubbing your eyes as you mourn your lack of sleep. Anakin shoots up from his makeshift pile of blankets on the floor, hand already on his lightsaber as he prepares to respond to whatever threat may be there. When he sees none, he relaxes, but his eyes stray to your form and the outline of your body under the silk nightgown. 
“Can’t sleep either?” You ask dryly, making your way off of the bed. You muss up your hair just in case you run into someone on your midnight journey, just so that they’ll think you and Anakin have been up to something other than arguing. 
“No, milady,” Anakin responds quietly. A heartbeat passes before he speaks again, breaking the tranquility of the night. “I apologize for how I spoke to you. I took my frustrations out on you and disrespected you. Your demand is not a foolish one, it’s important and I know that.” 
“I appreciate that,” you respond. “And… about what you said earlier, I do want to learn how to keep myself safe. Of course I do. You won’t always be there, I know that, but how am I supposed to learn? Who would have taught me? My parents died when I was young. I was left in the care of Padme and her family, but that meant that I was part of politics. Running things in the background to support the people I love.” 
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Anakin offers, and you sit with silence for another moment. You take the chance to look at Anakin, the dark circles under his eyes, the shadows on his face, the scar on his eyelid. You have the strangest urge to run your fingers over his cheekbones, over his scars, to know every part of him. You don’t know why, but in the moonlight, everything is so much softer. But you keep it to yourself, sighing and settling on the edge of the bed. You draw your knees to your chest, eyelids fluttering shut to give your eyes some rest. 
“I’ll teach you,” Anakin offers suddenly. 
“What?” You ask. 
“I’ll teach you to protect yourself. You’re right, I won’t always be there, but you should never be defenseless. You’re far too important for that.” Anakin offers a smile to you. It’s the first time you’ve seen him smile, so subtle that you might have missed it had you not been staring so intently at him. 
“Thank you, General Skywalker.” 
“Anakin.” 
“Anakin.” You smile back at him, a tentative truce drawn between the both of you. You have no doubt that you’ll clash with him soon enough, a matter of personality differences, but for now, it’s nice to have him on your side. “You know, I wouldn’t be offended if you came and slept on the bed with me. I’m sure you’ve slept on the ground plenty of times as a Jedi Knight, but I can’t sleep here three feet away from you knowing my guard is sleeping on the ground.” 
“I suppose there only is one bed, isn’t there?” He grumbles, drawing up the pile of sheets that he’s slept in and tossing it at the foot of the bed. Despite the distance between you, you can feel the warmth radiating from him as he slides into the bed. “We’ll start training tomorrow, milady.”
“Goodnight, Anakin,” you smile, facing the wall. 
“Goodnight, milady.” 
~~~
“Wake up, milady.” It’s still dark when you hear him call your name, jostling your shoulder when you don’t wake up immediately. 
“Anakin?” You ask, rubbing your eyes. It must be right before dawn, for everything is so dark that you can’t make out the details of his face. “Is something the matter?”
“You asked me to train you,” he says. You hold back a groan, wanting nothing more than to bury yourself in your blankets and sleep for much longer. 
“Anakin, that’s sweet, but when you said tomorrow I didn’t think you meant before my brain even turns on,” you whine, but he’s persistent. He slides an arm under your torso, quickly pulling you upright as you protest at the sudden loss of warmth. You shiver from the cold, instinctively huddling in closer to Anakin before you realize and pull yourself away. He looks at you with an odd expression on his face, but doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to slide out of the bed and pull the sheets away with him. He folds his hands behind his back, waiting patiently for you to get out of bed. 
“Milady, I must advise that we train now. We should do it in secret, so that your handmaids won’t notice— after all, they are part of the reason that you wish to learn to protect yourself,” Anakin responds. You groan but get up, throwing your hands in frustration. You’re partly convinced that he’s just doing this to be a little prick— there’s not a chance in hell that this was the only time that you could get alone time with him. You’re newlyweds, it’s almost expected that you’d be sneaking off to spend as much time as possible between meetings. But no, he had to wake you before anyone else would reasonably be awake. But it’s not worth the fight. 
“Alright, then,” you sigh. But instead of moving away from the bed, Anakin moves to stand on top of it, looking at you expectantly. 
“We’re going to start with several throws. Now, I’m not absolutely certain about this, but I think you wouldn’t enjoy being thrown down onto granite,” he says impatiently. You get on the bed, mourning the lack of sleep as Anakin eyes you up and down. “In that?” He asks, referring to your silk nightgown. 
“Oh, good grief,” you complain, throwing your hands up. “At this rate there won’t be a point of waking me up before dawn because everyone else in the palace will be awake already when we do start! Can we just do it?” Anakin shrugs, reaching out to position you the way he wants. Anakin positions you standing shoulder width apart, one hand placed on the back of your neck and the other on your arm. The warmth of his palms on your bare skin sends electricity through your nerves, and you blink at him wide-eyed at the contact. With quick footwork he sweeps you on to your back, knocking the wind out of you with the added weight of his body on yours before he swings himself to your side, effectively pinning you down to the ground. 
“Try to move,” he instructs you, but as you wiggle around on the bed, you realize that he’s able to still pin down your shoulders. “See? Doing this gives you leverage. First thing to know,” he says, getting up and leaving you sprawled on the bed. 
“I see.. Was it necessary to do it without any explanation, or was that for your amusement?” You grunt, hoisting yourself up as Anakin watches you struggle rather unsympathetically. 
“For fun. Now,” He breezes past the admission, grinning when you gape at him, “What you’re gonna do is put your hand on the back of my neck and my arm, like I did.” He nods when you’re in the correct placement, turning his focus to your technique. “Now, turn your body so the hand that’s holding my neck is the closest side. Step sideways once, cross the other foot and step towards me, and then use the first foot to sweep the knee on the side that you’re not touching.” 
You step as per his instructions, sweeping him down but when you land, body pressed firmly against his, the door swings open to reveal Reyna. She sputters when she sees the position you and Anakin are in—  Anakin half naked, his thigh slotted between your legs, his hands gripping your hips,  your tits hanging above his face with only the thin silk material to cover you. The immodesty of it all makes you blush, too. Anakin, however, used his quick thinking and craned his neck up to kiss the exposed skin right above your breasts. You know it’s only so that she doesn’t get suspicious but it feels good, dammit, and you can’t hold back the whimper that threatens to escape you when his teeth nip softly at your skin. 
“I’ll come back later,” Reyna squeaks, clearly mortified. 
“That would be best,” Anakin responds, looking at her with half-lidded eyes and a smirk that makes heat run up your spine. 
When the door shuts, he throws you rather unceremoniously off of him, blushing a bright pink. 
“Sorry,” Anakin apologizes. The both of you lay on your backs, furiously avoiding eye contact as the situation’s awkwardness makes you wince. 
“It’s alright,” you say, pushing yourself off of the bed. “So, I’ll, um, see you later today?” 
“Yes, milady,” he answers, sounding distant. “Later today.”
213 notes · View notes
pasukiyo · 2 months
Text
A PLACE IN THE SEA OF STARS
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
anakin skywalker x f!naberrie!reader word count: 10.4k (my longest yet... i'm so sorry) warnings: two idiots pining, pining, reader is padme's younger sister (whether biological or adopted is up to you), first time having sex, soft smut, angst synopsis: a life spent in padmé amidala's shadow and never once did she ever think she'd be envious of her sister. that is, until anakin skywalker walks his way into her life and she finds herself praying that one day, he'd look at her the way he does at padmé, that she'll be given a place in the sea of stars, that her destiny will include him.
Tumblr media
 It came as no surprise that Anakin Skywalker would be enamored with her second-to-oldest sister.
 After a life spent behind Padmé Amidala’s shadow, she’d grown accustomed to it— being overlooked. But for once, just this once, she wished history wouldn’t repeat itself, wished the prophecy could be rewritten and for once, let it be her who was chosen, who was noticed. 
 But of course, it’s futile. 
 You can sink to your knees and pray to whatever higher being is in the sky but at the end of the day, there are millions of lost souls just like you doing the same. You can have faith, you can believe that someday you’ll be heard but with each silent day that passes, your voice still falls on deaf ears. 
 She’s done her time playing the fool who sinks to her knees and pleads with the night sky to find her a place in the sea of stars, so that she may fit in a constellation too. She’s been the statue who's been made to wait— and she’s started to crumble. 
 She remembers the day she started to pray like it was yesterday. It was the day she first met Anakin Skywalker, back when he was only a Padawan, still searching for his own place in the world. Her parents were restless then, having heard of the multiple assassination attempts on their dear second oldest daughter. Of course she was worried too, but she still could feel the guilt that settled into the marrow of her bones when she found herself pondering whether her parents would react the same way if it had been her life at stake instead. 
 She remembers helping her eldest sister, Sola, and her mother with dinner in preparation for the arrival of their sister Padmé and her Jedi escort. She’d been tasked with bringing a bowl of fruit to the table and she remembered nearly being trampled over by her nieces, Ryoo and Pooja, as they squeal Padmé’s name, sprinting for the door. 
 She remembers huffing, mumbling a curse in an alien language beneath her breath just as their guests step inside, looking up from where she leaned over the table, dropping the bowl down onto the surface. She remembers her breath catching in her throat when her gaze found a sea of blue that put the Naboo waters to shame. 
 Padmé’s lips curved into a grin as she exclaimed her sister’s name, circling the table to capture her in an embrace. Her sister wrapped her arms around her and her chin found Padmé’s shoulder as the blue that took her breath away crashed into her and she swore everything changed in that moment. 
 She remembers the first time Anakin Skywalker looked at her. It was a brief, friendly locking of the eyes but a fleeting moment for him felt like lightyears for her. His eyes were the blue of the water where the sun’s reflection gently ripples and warps. They were the blue of the sky after it rains and the sun begins to spill through the cracks of the wall of clouds. 
 She’s never understood what it meant to be speechless, for something to literally steal the breath away from her lungs. But from the moment her eyes met his, she began to understand. 
 “Anakin! This is my youngest sister,” Padmé announced, pulling away from their embrace. Her spine stiffened when her sister introduced her and she watched as his full, pink lips moved to form her name. His voice is like nails scraping against the itch she can’t reach on her back, his voice is like velvet she can swallow, deliciously soft and rich against her throat. 
 “It’s nice to meet you,” Anakin dipped his chin in greeting, the silly, little braid falling off his shoulder. She drained the lump that had formed in her throat, bowing her head. Her lips trembled and her breath was shaky as she prepared her salutations but her words fell dead on the tip of her tongue when Padmé’s squeal permeated the room. 
 “And my eldest sister Sola!”
 And just like that, all attention rolled away from her and onto her eldest sisters but she still watched him, heart beating against her chest. 
 And that was the moment she began to pray. 
 She prayed, even though the looks he’d given Padmé didn’t go unnoticed. The way he watched her, even when she wasn’t the one speaking, the way he’d soak in every word, every praise for her that fell past her parents’ mouths. The way he stared longingly at her sister when he was certain nobody was watching— and no one was, for their attentions were on Padmé, save for hers. 
 It was typical. 
 It should come as no surprise that everyone would worship the ground her sister— the former Queen, current Senator of Naboo— walked on. She’s not surprised that someone young and benign like him would fall in love with her sister— she’d only seen it happen more times than she ever really cared to count. 
 And she’d never really cared about all the suitors on their knees at Padmé’s feet before— they were her sister’s problems, not hers. She’d never even really envied her sister, at least in that sense. 
 But everything changed the moment Anakin stepped through the door. Everything changed the moment their eyes met, if only for the most fleeting of seconds. 
 So she prayed. 
 Inside the inner realms of her mind, she sinks to her knees and stares into the void above her, the stars that beamed down at her twinkling, almost as if they taunted her. She swallowed her pride, folding her hands together and raising them to her chin, brow dipping as she pleaded with the higher being in the sky to hear her cry. 
 “Please, hear me, Maker,” she whispered into her mind, externally staring at Anakin, internally losing her gaze amongst the stars as if the Maker himself would appear between them. “Hear my plea. Whatever destiny you’ve pre-written for me, please be sure it includes Anakin Skywalker.”
 She didn’t see Anakin Skywalker again for another year after that. 
 Apparently, being a Jedi means he’s constantly from place to place, but next time they do end up in the same place, it’s even more fleeting than the last. She was beginning to wonder if she would ever see him again, if she was foolish to continue hoping that he might notice her, that he might even love her. But she still remembers the way his eyes flickered in recognition when they caught hers across the courtyard of Theed Royal Palace. His hair was longer and he didn’t have that ridiculous braid or tiny ponytail on the back of his neck anymore. The Chancellor was speaking to him and another Jedi with umber hair and a matching beard, but his attention was on her. 
 He looked… darker. As if the years of war had finally begun taking its toll on him. But he’s still the same man he’s always been, still the same one she’s dreamed about. He even looked better.  
 They don’t get the chance to talk, only share knowing glances, as he was on duty and their paths unfortunately didn’t cross. But that gleaming in his eyes, the one that blazes with knowing is all the kindling in the pit of her belly needs to bloom, to blossom into a raging wildfire. 
 So, she prayed again. 
 “Maker,” she said into that night sky inside of her head. The stars shone brighter, as if to laugh at the foolish girl beneath them. She ignored them of course— because she truly believed that one day, she’d prove them wrong. “Please. Hear my plea. Let Anakin Skywalker see me again. Give me a place in your sea of stars and make sure it is in Anakin Skywalker’s orbit.”
 She doesn’t see him again for another two years. 
 But still, he lingers, just like a phantom weaving through every corner she passes, cloaked in shadow. She sees Anakin Skywalker everywhere she goes— in the lakes of shining waters out in the country, in the rain that falls on a dark, cloudy day, in the litany of stars that idle in the sky. 
 She sees him in her dreams, staring the way he did at Padmé. Only, in her dreams, his gaze finds her. Almost like he had that day in the courtyard, but in her dreams, his eyes would linger longer. 
 His voice calls out to her whenever she’s sleeping and it lingers in gooseflesh on her skin, frosting over her bones. She’ll open her eyes when he calls but she’s never truly awake. Alas, if dreaming is the only way she’ll see Anakin Skywalker again, she’d gladly succumb to her sleep and trick herself into believing it is real. 
 Except tonight, she does not think she can take it much longer. 
 “Anakin,” she whispers one day when she peels her eyelids open after he calls. She says his name like it’ll be the last time she ever will. That look is on his face again— the one she’s seen so many times directed at her in her dreams, she’s nearly forgotten it wasn’t meant for her in the first place. 
 She used to wake and long for sleep to come again, just so she could watch him look at her like that. 
 But three long years of waiting and foolishly praying to beings who do not hear have begun to rust the illusion she’s deluded herself into hopelessly believing in. Three long years of silence and she’s finally cracked. She is broken— she sees it now. She’s grown weary of hoping he’d be the one to fix her. 
 His lips curve to form a smile and for three years, she’s fooled herself into believing it could be for her— truly be for her, outside of her dreams. But to be forthright, she’s tired. She’s grown tired of pretending, tired of clinging onto the dying embers of mere memories of how a man looked at someone that wasn’t her— but rather her sister. She’s grown tired of hoping, waiting, praying that one day, he may wander back into her life and thread his way into the tapestry that her destiny’s been woven into.
 Tonight is the night she forfeits with her palms to the sky, tonight is the night she yields to the stars that have taunted her for far too long and admits her defeat. That they were right all along. Tonight is the night she blows away the ashes she’s desperately held so close to her chest and sealed away in secret urns inside for far too long. 
 Tonight is the night she lets go. 
 When she wakes the following morning, birds chirp outside her window. Sunlight spills into her room as it rises over the mountains across the lake and she yawns, stretching her arms over her head. Today is merry— it is the day her sister, Padmé Amidala, marries. 
 Today is merry but instead, she feels dread seep into the marrow of her bones. She’s happy for her sister, really, she is, but it serves only as a reminder that her time is ticking, and time has turned vexing. It serves as a reminder that she must make haste to find her own purpose, to find someone who will cherish her the way she’s spent many fortnights dreaming about. Sola’s already married and found her purpose, and Padmé’s had her entire life laid out before her since she was only fourteen years of age. 
 Sola, the wife and mother, Padmé, the Queen and then the Senator, and then there’s her. Unsure. Undecided. An ellipsis. 
 She’s envious. How could she not be? She’s envious that she’ll never be the perfect mother like Sola, envious that she’ll never live up to Padmé’s legacy, she’s even grown envious of the stars: they simply idle in the night sky but even their idleness has a purpose because their places have reason, to create constellations that in turn, tell stories. 
 She knows that after today, the pressure of fulfilling whatever destiny’s been written for her will only further suffocate her. She will suffocate beneath the weight of this pressure and she will be expected to continue breathing. She’s tried for so long to keep the air in her lungs but it’s so hard when with each day that passes by, the darkness grows more appealing. 
 She’s tried so hard to find the right path she’s supposed to take, but there are so many roads, so many choices and so many consequences. She’s afraid— and it’s why she’s allowed herself to hide in her sisters’ shadows for so long. But it feels so stifling now. 
 She sighs and blinks up to the terracotta ceiling. And then of course, dread wears her bones for an entirely different reason. Because it’s inevitable that she’s going to see Anakin Skywalker today. And things will be different. 
 It’s been lingering like an annoying, little insect since Padmé announced she’d invited her Jedi friends to the wedding, ever since she heard Anakin’s name being read off the list. Things were certain to change because he is but a mere guest, and not the groom. 
 It may have come as no surprise that Anakin would fall for her, but it certainly came as a shock that Padmé wouldn’t fall for him. 
 It makes her flesh blaze with a strange anger she’s not quite sure how to describe. How could her sister have something she so desperately wanted but not pursue it? How could she reject Anakin when he would willingly break and bend to her every whim? Why must her sister take his infatuation for granted— why could it not be given to her instead?
 She thinks it must be some cruel trick the Maker is playing on her, dangling Anakin in front of her like that, cursing him with an unrequited love when she was right there. She thinks it must be the Maker’s— damn him— cruel way of taunting her, as if the sneering stars had eyes, his eyes. Even if part of her is relieved Anakin is not marrying her sister, it still feels like a blaster wound to her chest, puncturing her skin and searing her insides. 
 She hears her name called from outside her room’s door and groans. 
 “What do you want?” She replies in displeasure as the door slides open. Her eldest sister, Sola, steps into the room and glowers at her youngest sister’s tone. 
 “Well, good morning sunshine,” Sola remarks and she rolls her eyes. Sola makes her way towards the bed, dropping a dress the color of fire onto the mattress. “Is there a reason for your ill-temper today?”
 She pushes herself to sit upright, wrinkling her nose at the dress as she takes a fistful of it in her hand. “Orange?” She scoffs, tossing it back down onto the bed. “I thought we were wearing blue?”
 Sola shrugs, plopping down onto the mattress. “Padmé changed her mind last minute,” she says. “I suppose if we wore blue, we’d mesh with the background, don’t you think?”
 She sighs and flops back down against her pillows, one arm folded over her stomach, the other folded behind her head. Sola pokes her forefinger against her knee and she grumbles, narrowing her eyes at the ceiling. 
 “Now, answer the question,” her oldest sister insists. “What’s the matter with you?”
 Her eyelids flutter closed and she wishes more than anything that she could simply wink out of existence. It’s not that she doesn’t want to be here for Padmé, she does, but she’s uncertain how she could possibly explain how she feels to Sola in a way she could understand. It’s exactly this that’s made her feel so alone all these years. 
 She’s never had someone who could understand her, really get her. She’s always been different from her sisters, even before marriage and coronations and political promotions. It’s something she’s certain her sisters have known, that even her parents must’ve known. She’s never been jovial and nurturing like Sola, or clever and independent like Padmé. She’s always preferred silence and privacy, and maybe that’s been her problem. But it’s all she knows, being alone. 
 Sola’s never spent years yearning for a boy who yearns for another, so she couldn’t possibly understand. She doesn’t think she could even make her understand. 
 She sighs, lolling her head to the side until her gaze finds Sola’s. 
 “Not looking forward to wearing that dress for the entire evening,” she says instead. Sola’s eyes roll and she leans over to pinch her calf beneath the covers. She hisses and swats her sister’s hand away as she clicks her tongue, moving out of the way. 
 “Oh come on, it’s not that bad,” Sola tries to reason. 
 “It’s hideous,” she deadpans. 
 Sola deflates with the acceptance of her defeat. She grabs her sister’s knee, giving it a shake. She glares at her older sister. 
 “Come on, that can’t be the only reason why you’re in such a foul mood,” Sola insists, her bottom lip rolling in a pout and she swears it’s almost comical how her eldest sister can act like such a child. It’s a wonder how she has children of her own. 
 She blinks at Sola as a sort of realization creeps onto her eldest sister’s face and she blinks, internally grimacing. For she knows that whatever is bound to come out of her sister’s mouth next is going to be completely and utterly wrong. 
 “I think I get it now,” Sola’s tone is softer, her face falling to match it. “You’re upset you’ll be the last of us to be married.”
 And there it is. 
 She internally cringes at just how wrong Sola is but she says nothing, further prompting her sister to lean forward, reaching for the hand that rests on her stomach. Her muscles stiffen when she takes it and she wills herself to stay still. It was better to let Sola say whatever she had to say than recoil and deny it— it’s not like she had any better excuse anyways. 
 “I know it can be tough,” she begins. “Feeling like you’re left out. Believe me, I had my fair share of it. I was so jealous of yours and Padmé’s relationship when you were younger because I was so much older, I felt like I just didn’t quite fit in with you two.”
 Her eyes finally meet Sola’s and she begins to see her eldest sister in a different light. All this time, she’s believed she’s the only one who’s felt this way— lost, left behind. While this isn’t quite the same context, she still feels her heart tremble in her chest for her sister, still feels like something’s shifted. It’s at least one thing they can understand each other on. 
 “But then, I found my husband. And then I had Ryoo and Pooja,” Sola continues. “And it was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ve never been so happy in my life.”
 Sola’s grip tightens around her hand and she leans forward to place her other one on top. “I know it must seem hard, seeing as both Padmé and I are married— well, almost anyway.” Her lips curve into a soft, reassuring grin. “But you’ll find that same happiness one day. I just know it. So don’t fret, little sister.”
And there, she fears, is where her sister misses the plot. 
 She almost wants to laugh at how ridiculous this all sounds. She remains silent, however, and Sola gives the back of her hand one last reassuring pat before she lets go, sliding off of the mattress. 
 “Anyways, I’m going to breakfast. You should come too before all the blue waffles are gone.”
 She watches as her eldest sister slips out of the room, the door sliding closed behind her and she sighs, digging her knuckles into her closed eyelids until the galaxy shimmers before her. How could Sola have come so close to understanding her one minute only to read her so wrong the next?
 She doesn’t make any effort to get out of bed and in all honesty, she wishes she could simply stay here forever, or at least for the rest of the night. At least long enough that she doesn’t have to face Anakin Skywalker. 
 Because even though she’s already promised herself that she’d let him go, she wasn’t entirely certain she could hold true to her own word when she sees him again.
Tumblr media
 The day goes by in a blur. In the blink of an eye, she’s wearing a satin dress in that deep orange she finds hideous beside Sola who stands beside Padmé. Padmé stands facing her husband-to-be, fingertips delicately placed in his palms as they recite their vows. 
 The sun paints the villa’s terrace with an orange glow and she watches it sink beneath the mountains across the lake from the corner of her eye. The sunlight looks like fire rippling in the gentle waves of the water below and she has to look away because she thinks of Anakin, how his eyes glimmer just the same. 
 She’s determined to keep her gaze away from the audience, however, because she knows he’s there, the incarnation of all she’s ever wanted, of all her bad ideas, of everything she cannot trust herself with in one. She searches the ground below, watches the way her dress ruffles with the breeze, like fire askew in the wind. 
 Padmé says something that makes the audience erupt in laughter and it startles her, so much that the hair on the back of her neck erects. When she flinches, she makes the mistake of blinking up— right into the eyes she’d been bound to avoid all night. 
 The world around Anakin Skywalker seems to stir until it’s all wet, blurry hues of orange, green, and white. Anakin is the only one she sees in high resolution— she can see every lock of wavy, dark blonde hair, every rippling wave in his irises, the scarlet line that slices just beside his right eye. She’d never seen this scar before— it must be new. 
 But what’s the most peculiar of all is that she meets his eyes— she meets his eyes. She’d blinked up to find he’d already been staring, already transfixed on her by the time their gazes met and his eyes had illuminated with that same knowing gleam she’d seen in them that day in the royal courtyard. 
 Anakin Skywalker is looking at her and she is not in a dream. It’s both momentous and utterly devastating all the same.
 She isn’t quite sure whether to look away or not. This is what she's mooned over more times than her pride will allow her to admit. She’s dreamed this many nights, for Anakin Skywalker to simply look at her and now he is. Anakin Skywalker is looking at her and she should feel elated but instead she feels… conflicted. 
 Does her heart flutter in her chest? Sure. 
 Does her stomach twist itself into knots? Certainly. 
 She felt so confident just the night before when she threw her hands up in surrender to the black sky, admitting her defeat to the stars who spent many moons mocking her that she was done. She felt so confident that she was ready to move on, to let go of this desire she’s harbored for Anakin for so long. 
 With the simplest of looks, Anakin Skywalker has proven capable of crumpling the paper walls she’d placed around herself. She was left feeling feeble, exposed and any sense of courage she thought she had was now lost. 
 Because three years of waiting and praying to higher entities who did not hear her pleas could not cease overnight. Her attraction to Anakin Skywalker could not cease in hours. She thought she’d extinguished the last flames of her withering hope but, as it turns out, a single dying ember remained. It means a part of her still yearned for him. A part of her still burned for him. 
 She wonders now, that he’s still looking at her, what possibly goes on inside his head. Why does he look at her now? Why does he stare, why do his lips twitch before curving in a smile when their eyes meet, why do they irradiate the longer her gaze lingers on his? Why does he not look sad at the wedding of the woman he loves? Why does he not even look at Padmé?
 Her mind swirls like a tempest— churning with unhinged, vicious anguish. She has to look away before the acid that bubbles in her throat can come to fruition but she can’t, and Anakin seemingly can’t tear his gaze away from her either. It’s all the more sickening and earth-shattering nonetheless. Her heart swells and pounds in her chest, the border of her vision beginning to blur with the familiar sting of tears. Her head is aching and it’s all just too much— she needs an escape. 
 “I now pronounce you, husband and wife.”
 She blinks away her emotion to the best of her ability, using the end of the ceremony as an excuse to look away as the crowd around her thunders with applause. Her mind is reeling and she feels like her head is spinning as she subconsciously claps her palms together, the sound muffled like water in her ears.  The watercolor around her stirs until it’s clear again and the entire world suddenly seems to move again— it’s her, this time, that’s in slow motion. 
 The cheering sounds like thunder, the applause like rain pelting against a window, and her mind begins to crumple, just like metal. She longs for escape, to flee and to be beside herself for the rest of the night. Padmé and her husband begin walking back down the aisle as their guests congratulate them, tossing flower petals into the air above them. She thinks that this is her chance to escape, she thinks everyone is distracted enough that no one will notice her leaving. 
 They never cared to notice her before anyways. 
 She begins to shuffle away but she doesn’t make it very far before her stomach lurches when someone clasps a hand around her wrist, tugging her forward. She snaps her head to the source to find her eldest sister, Sola, with her face illuminated by a grin. 
 “Come on!” Sola exclaims, dragging her down the aisle and back inside the villa. “It’s time to party!”
 Dread drains the blood from her cheeks but she’s given no time to protest before she’s being dragged down the aisle, right past Anakin Skywalker. She doesn’t dare look up but she feels him when she passes by, a mere brush of the arms, the feeling of his elbow brushing going just as fast as it came. 
 And it’s still enough to make liquid of her insides. 
 She drowns in a sea of people as she and Sola find Padmé, wrapped in their mother’s arms. She can hear her heart drum in her ears as Sola releases her hand to draw Padmé into an embrace, tears streaming down the apples of her cheeks. Everyone around her is so happy and she should be too— but she still feels like she’s beside the altar, caught in the trap Anakin has seemingly laid out for her. 
 A tear that’s been painfully dormant in her eye falls and she’s certain her distress shows on her face but it must be easily mistaken for tears of joy, because Padmé pulls away from Sola to turn to her, drawing her in for a hug. Her sister’s arms wrap around her body, a palm on her back, the other cupping the back of her head. Even Sola reaches forward to give her upper arm a reassuring squeeze, undoubtedly thinking back to the conversation they’d had earlier. 
 “Don’t cry for me, baby sister,” Padmé laughs tearfully beside her ear. She can feel Padmé’s smile against her shoulder. She pulls away and rubs her palms up and down the length of her arms. “I’m still the same Padmé I’ve always been.”
 She’s unable to reply— again, she’s misunderstood. But it’s her sister’s wedding day, she won’t burden her with her own confliction. So she swallows the boulder-sized lump in her throat, curving her lips just enough to form a tight-lipped smile. 
 “I’m just… happy for you,” she manages. Padmé cups her cheek and soothes the pad of her thumb over her skin before Ryoo and Pooja draw her attention away. Padmé’s hands fall from her arms and finally, she can breathe. 
 But even that is momentary. 
 “You make a perfectly fine bride if I do say so myself, Senator.”
 Her spine stiffens. She knows that voice. And she knows exactly who is near when she hears it. 
 Padmé laughs and tosses her hands. “Obi-Wan,” she greets him just like an old friend would, pulling him in for an embrace. “And little Ani.”
 How is it that she’s already seen him more tonight than she has in the past three years? She sees Anakin’s dark boots from the top of her vision, not daring to tear her gaze from the ground. 
 “Padmé,” Anakin’s deep, enriching voice sounds and rumbles deep in her belly. She shifts uncomfortably where she stands, desperate to flee. She thinks she can manage it now— Obi-Wan and Anakin are engrossed with Padmé now, right? 
 She begins to make her first attempt of escape, taking slow, careful steps to the side until her second effort crumbles when Anakin speaks her name. 
 Ice frosts over her spine and she’s no choice but to acknowledge the man she was so intent on avoiding the entire evening. Padmé and Obi-Wan are engrossed in their own conversation but Anakin’s gaze remains on her, eyes even sparkling when she finally meets them. 
 Her mouth is a desiccated oasis and her throat feels like a desert as it constricts painfully when she swallows. Still, she manages to breathe out, “Anakin.”
 It’s the first time she can ever recall having a true, proper conversation with him. The last time being when they said their goodbyes that very first time before he and Padmé left for the Lake Country. It’s confusing how this is everything she’s ever wanted yet, she feels an urge to push it all away. 
 Anakin clears his throat and his eyes flicker to his feet for a moment as if he could possibly be nervous before they find hers again. “You look good,” he says and her heart stops beating in her chest. “That dress is beautiful on you.”
 She thinks she could punch him. 
 Or kiss him. 
 She has to look away, or she may very well do the latter. 
 She wonders if this is some cruel, senseless joke the Maker is playing on her. She wonders if she’d upset him by unlatching herself from his hook and this is his way of reeling her back in. She hates that it has the potential to work. 
 “I…” she stammers and closes her lids frustratedly, willing air back into her lungs. She shakes her head— she cannot be here any longer. She may very well explode if she has to succumb to this torture for even a second more. “…thanks. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
 And then, she bolts. 
Tumblr media
 She’s lost track of how long she’s been locked in her room, sitting in the window, staring at the moonlight that ripples in the water below. It was long enough for the chatter downstairs to quiet to murmurs until it finally ceased altogether. The villa is now quiet and suddenly, her room feels suffocating. 
 With a sigh, her feet meet the floor and she pushes away from the window seat, cupping her neck to roll it around her shoulders as she pads towards the door. It slides open and she slips through, making her way down the hallway leading towards the main foyer. Her dress flows behind her like flames in the wind, the satin cool against her legs as she walks. Fresh, night air greets her and she inhales, letting it flood her lungs as she saunters to the wide terrace ahead. 
 She stops at the stone arches of the railing and exhales, feeling the wind sift its fingers through her hair, breathing on her skin like a lover in the throes of passion. It caresses her neck and rolls down her back, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. 
 She’d spent many nights just like this one. Staring at the moon rippling through the water, at the stars that twinkle overhead, the sky that blackens behind them. She’d spent many nights praying, releasing her pleas into the air and letting it drift away with the breeze. 
 She does not pray this time. When she lifts her head to brave the dark that faces her, she merely asks why. 
 “Why, Maker,” she whispers beneath her breath. There’s an edge, a strain to her voice that stings her throat, that feels like daggers to her chest. “Why must you be so cruel? I have done everything, I have given you everything. Why wasn’t it enough? Why do you mock me now?”
 The stars overhead gleam as they cackle, sneering at the misfit below. “You’ll never have a place among us,” they seem to say. Tears well in her eyes and she drops her head, fingernails scraping the stone edge of the railing. She leans back on her heels and wills herself to breathe before a sob could wrack her body. 
 She feels lost and utterly alone, and she truly begins to feel like the weight of this prolonged pain has started to fall on top of her. She’s lost and alone and her entire world has started to crumble around her. And then she hears her name. 
 It’s like the call that haunts her every time she closes her eyes, the same velvety voice that caresses her ear every night when she lies down in bed. But it is not a ghostly whisper this time, because it is real. 
 Footsteps sound behind her and she further scratches her nails against the railing. 
 “I was wondering where you wandered off to,” Anakin remarks as he approaches and she can feel him beside her, like a whisper of shadow creeping along her skin. She rolls back onto the balls of her feet and stands straight, sniffing. 
 “Anakin,” she says, steadily, methodically. As if it took great effort to say it without stammering. She can see him out of her peripheral, dark blonde curls falling when he leans an elbow against the railing, tilting his head in an attempt to meet her eye. 
 She does not move. 
 “I was looking for you, you know,” he continues. “You must’ve found a good hiding spot.”
 She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth. “I was in my room,” she replies simply, a steely, monotone in her voice.
 Anakin inhales and hums. “Then it makes sense why I could not find you. I would never barge into a lady’s room.”
 It’s an attempt at humor but she feels anything but. She’s stuck between a rock and a hard place with seemingly no clear solution in sight. She could walk away. She should walk away. She shouldn't spend a single second more in Anakin Skywalker’s presence— she simply couldn’t trust herself to not betray her own vow. 
 Or she could stay. She could stay and once again succumb to the fool’s game she’s been playing. She could stay and let Anakin Skywalker tie another noose around her neck, allowing him to drag her along for another three years. 
 She knows what is right. She knows what she should do. 
 But she’s frozen. 
 She cannot move, cannot even bring her lips to move so she can speak. She instead wilts, like a rose who once stood beautifully now losing its color, shriveling in on herself until she inevitably withers away. 
 She can feel Anakin draw himself just an inch closer beside her, and he’s like a single drop of rain that’s enough to somewhat salvage the husk of who she once was. 
 “Why do you avoid me?” He asks and it’s a question so simply but so damn infuriating all the while. She’s been a volcano in dormancy up until this point, but there’s a rumbling deep within her, threatening to erupt. 
 “Why are you doing this?” She questions, snapping her head towards him, brows dipped and drawn. Anakin blinks and draws back, a dent forming between his own brows. 
 “Doing what?” He asks and that feeling of wanting to ram her fist into his face comes back. She turns to fully face him and he pushes off the railing, uncertainty warping his features. 
 “This,” she gestures between them. “Staring at me. Talking to me. As if we’ve spoken more than hellos and goodbyes to each other.”
 Anakin raises a brow, the one his scar pierces, and it warps with the movement. 
 She continues. “And then you have the audacity to tell me I look beautiful in this gods-awful dress just to spite me.” She is a volcano, no longer dormant, no longer overlooked. She is exploding and Anakin is unfortunate enough to be in her wake. 
 He shakes his head. “Spite you?” He repeats. She begins to pace, a hand on her hip, the other rubbing her chin. Anakin follows, exactly like a lost puppy. “I wasn’t— I would never—“
 “Don’t say you’d never,” she turns on him, sticking an accusatory finger in his face. He blinks from it back to her, that ocean in the irises of his eyes raging, lightning cracking in the sinkhole at its center. She drops her hand and it curls at her side, her fists two shaking balls of fury. Blood bites her cheeks and she thinks of all the times she’s imagined speaking with Anakin Skywalker, of being alone with him. 
 This certainly was not how she’d ever imagined the scenario playing out. 
 She inhales. “Don’t say you’d never do anything to spite me while you are actively using me to get over Padmé,” she exhales, braving the stormy sea in his eyes. The tide shifts and his manner does too and she believes she’s already cracked him. She thinks she’s already shattered the illusion he was trying to create, that she’s lifted the wool he’s tried to veil over her eyes.
 She thinks that he believes whatever game he was trying to play was over. 
 Anakin straightens. “You have no idea what you are talking about,” he says and she scoffs, backing away. 
 “Don’t I?” She retorts. “You don’t think I’ve noticed how you’ve always looked at her? How you’ve always loved her?” 
 It brings her great pain to merely mention it. Her palms wipe at her face as tears begin welling in her eyes again, her cheeks warm as she desperately tries to quell the beginnings of a sob that stutters through her chest. She realizes now that by keeping all of these emotions, these feelings she’s harbored for Anakin for so long bottled has made her restless, has made her tick like a time bomb. 
 And her time to detonate has come. 
 He says her name again and tries to step forward, reeling back when she steps away from him. His hand wrapped in a leather glove hovers in the air between them and he drops it with an exasperated sigh. 
 “Your sister means a great deal to me, yes,” he begins. “But it is not—“
 “My sister is the sole reason why you torment me!” She snaps. “And you have no right to use how I feel against me just because she does not love you back.”
 Her words are an arrow meant to strike, to pierce through his chest, his heart her target. Her words are meant to cut deep, to draw blood, to make him bleed just like she has everyday since they met. She thinks they will, she thinks her blows will etch deep, will even leave scars in their wake. Part of her longs to see that pained expression upon his face, just like the one she wears now. 
 But her arrow merely grazes, soaring past until it sinks in the shining waters below. 
 Anakin’s face shifts but it is not in the way she thought it would, not in the way she hoped it would. His brows dip and his eyes swarm with a pained sort of desperation she’s never seen before in someone. She certainly never expected to see it in someone like him. His chest rises and falls with his breaths as he steps forward again. She stands still, unable to move. She is stunned— Anakin Skywalker has surprised her. 
 “Padmé does not love me,” he admits. “I met her when I was only a child. The only girl I’d ever seen before her was my own mother. So, of course, I felt drawn to her.” Her jaw tightens and her lips fall together in a firm, thin line. Anakin’s brows knit closer together and there’s a flicker in his eyes that she swears looks like the predecessor to tears. 
 She doesn’t quite want to believe it. He could not cry. 
 “And I spent a decade pining, a decade praying that I’d one day see her again, a decade hoping she’d been counting down the days until she saw me again, just like I was.”
 She doesn’t believe what she’s hearing. It’s a reflection of her own story, her own foolish pining, her own foolish praying but not hers, but Anakin’s. Her heart stutters in her chest and she forgets to breathe, having to gasp to gather air back into her lungs. 
 She’s never once felt like she could be understood. She’s never once felt like anyone else could experience the inner turmoil she has, the seemingly fruitless yearning she has. 
 But she’s realizing now that that's not true. Not anymore, at least. Everything is changing right before her eyes. 
 “And then I did,” Anakin shakes his head, a humorless laugh leaving his lips. “And I felt nothing. But I tried. I tried to convince myself I loved her. But I just… didn’t.”
 Her brow furrows and Anakin’s gaze darkens as it finds hers. 
 “I spent a decade obsessing over someone I didn’t really know, and how could I? I was a child.” His eyes search hers, searching for something unbeknownst to her. But she lets him. “I didn’t know what love was. All I knew was infatuation. I didn’t know what it meant to truly feel seen, to truly feel drawn to someone.”
 Anakin pauses and she gets the feeling that whatever he says next will be calamitous. 
 “Until I saw you again, that day outside the palace.”
 Her lips tremble and her breath shudders, an icy chill frosting over her skin. To think he’s thought about her everyday since their eyes briefly met in the midst of a crowded courtyard was hard to believe yet, when she looks at Anakin Skywalker now, she sees the softening of his brow, the quiver in his lips, the honesty in his eyes. 
 She’s only ever imagined one look in his eyes. Desire. 
 But she looks at him now and finds an entire galaxy— there’s longing, there’s earnest, there’s optimism, there’s burning. As it turns out, living creatures are not black and white like she initially thought them to be. Anakin Skywalker is a complex creature, made of flesh and blood and of an intricacy she’d never stopped to consider before. 
 He’s even better than she’s imagined he’d be. 
 Every moment spent under the stars, praying that she’d one day have a place among them, that she one day would sit among them with purpose rather than in an ellipsis suddenly begins to feel like it wasn’t all for nothing after all. Every prayer she’s whispered into the night breeze with Anakin Skywalker’s name in it suddenly feels like they begin to matter, like they begin to come true. 
 Still, she is wary, and Anakin seems to recognize this caution. 
 He takes a step closer and he steals the breath from her chest, just like he had the first moment she saw him. Her fingers twitch, itching to find his, her palms tingling with the desire to feel his skin, her lips buzzing with yearning. She does not touch him, she does not kiss him, she does not do anything. She simply waits for the rest of his story to unfold and her brain aches with the hope that it will unravel into hers. 
 “I saw you that day at the palace to find you were already looking at me. That you were already seeing me,” he mutters, a little breathlessly. “It may have been for… for only a moment but when you looked at me, I felt…” he trails off, a furrow in his brow as he searches for the correct word. “…I felt… like something shifted.”
 She watches as he rolls his lips together, watches as the moonlight catches how they glisten with spittle. Her breath catches a little bit, her gaze lingering there, her desire to lap it all up flaring. 
 “It felt like there was a string there between us I’d never noticed before,” he continues. “There was a connection I’d never realized until the moment our eyes met. I felt you, and I felt you see me. There hasn’t been a day that’s passed by since where I didn’t feel you, where I didn’t feel like we were connected, like we were two stars written in the same constellation.”
 Her chest rises and falls to the erratic beating of her heart as Anakin draws nearer, the hand with his glove meeting her cheek with a tenderness she’d felt from no one before. She’d never realized how starved of touch she’s been until now and it feels so invigorating. Her stare drops to his lips and she feels that string Anakin must’ve been talking about, feels it drawing her closer into his mouth. 
 “Padmé does not love me back, and I do not care,” he says in just above a whisper, his voice rising and falling in a way that jellifies her knees, that makes liquid of her insides. “Because I am burning– foolishly, maybe, yes– for you.”
 She inhales sharply and it truly feels like all her prayers are finally being answered, like she’s being inducted into her rightful place in the sea of stars. And in her constellation, Anakin Skywalker resides too. 
 She reaches up with a hand to hold the crook of his elbow that’s strung between them as he brings his other, ungloved hand to rest on her other cheek. She feels his skin on her cheek as the pad of his thumb soothes over the warmth of her flesh and her body quakes with shivers that roll down her spine all the way to her toes. He begins to lean in, his breath hot where it fans against her skin but she tilts backwards, just enough for him to halt, a quirk in one of his brows. 
 “I will not let you settle for me, Anakin Skywalker,” she whispers, admitting that insecurity still lingers, despite his words. Anakin’s eyes narrow as he uses his hands on either sides of her face to draw her in, his lips but a mere whisper away from hers when he murmurs, “settle? This is not settling. This is binding.”
 Then, his lips are on hers in an electrifying bind that shatters her spine with cracks of lightning and she falls into him, her hands on either of his forearms to keep herself steady. 
 Anakin kisses her with an ardor she could never even dream up in all of her wildest of fantasies. He kisses her and she feels like she finally fits in her dress, as it is the color of fire and she’s engulfed in flames. He kisses her and he is the flame that lights her candle, the flame that melts her from the center, that makes heat course through her that washes all the way down to her toes. He kisses her and she is melting, right into him. 
 His tongue pirouettes over hers and she hums into his mouth, feeling his fingers thread through her hair. Her heart is pounding and her lips are buzzing but all she feels is Anakin, she feels the muscles in his arms, the warmth that radiates off his body and spills into her. She feels the push and pull of the passion, the yearning he’s kept inside all this time. She feels her own longing and fervor pour into him and they are floating, two clouds that collide into one another to become one. 
 Anakin steps forward and steps backwards until she hits a wall. When they pull away for breath, she realizes he’s backed her into one of the pillars, a vine caught in the hair on the back of her head. Their chests heave with the weight of their breaths and she watches as Anakin’s hand, not the gloved one, but the one with skin rises, following it as it reaches for her neck. She shudders when he touches her collarbone, exposed from the side of the fiery satin of her dress. His fingertips sear her skin as it drags to the neck of her dress, following the satin where it wraps around her throat, all the way to the back of her neck where the lace falls. 
 Her breath catches when his fingers find the small strings keeping her dress together. Her gaze finds his again to find he’s already staring, a narrow, earnest look upon his face that darkens his eyes and hardens his features. There is a silent question that hangs in the air between them: “do you want to stop?”
 Maybe they’re moving too fast. Maybe this is crazy, maybe they’re simply caught up in the moment, high off the feeling of burning for someone who burns for them too. But after years of pining, of waiting, of praying, it only feels right. 
 But still, she asks, “what if someone sees? Someone like Obi-Wan who can get you in trouble?”
 Anakin shakes his head, “they won’t. Now, I don’t want to talk about Obi-Wan. Do you want to stop?”
 The shake of her head is all Anakin needs to see before he unlaces the strings holding her dress together, the satin falling like a spark blazing down the frayed edges of a rope until it pools at her elbows. Her breasts spill from the dress and the night’s ghostly whisper chills her skin, peaking her nipples. 
 Anakin’s eyes devour and she is prey. 
 His stare pierces through her skin to the marrow of her bones that catch a chill and she quakes. He meets her eyes again as his hands drift lower, dipping until they finally find her chest. A sharp gasp escapes when his palms cup either of her breasts and she arches into his touch, already aching for more. 
 “Anakin!” She gasps in a breathy exclaim when he dips his chin to press a kiss over the top of one of her breasts, heat blossoming in his lips’ wake. His eyes catch her again, a little warily. “Is this okay?” He asks, his voice low and gravely, scratching the itch in her brain she didn’t even know she had. It makes her knees feel weak and if it hadn’t been for his body pressed up against hers, she would’ve crumpled straight to the ground. 
 “Yes,” she breathes, chest heaving into his palms. “I’m sorry, I’ve just… never…”
 Anakin’s lips curve and she can see a flash of white peek between them. He shakes his head. “Me neither,” he admits with a breathy laugh and she titters too, grateful for the fact that she’s not the only one who’s a little green. 
 “Can I keep going?” He questions and his voice is liquid desire, melting straight down to her core. She swallows the lump that’s formed in her throat, nodding. “Please,” she adds, feeling her heart beat straight into his palm. 
 Anakin’s head dips again and she watches, cheeks warm as he places an open-mouthed kiss just above her nipple. His palm kneads the other breast as his lips venture just an inch lower, finding the peaked bud that awaits, suckling it into his mouth. 
 It’s like electricity flooding through her veins. 
 She throws her head back, lips falling agape as her eyelids snap closed, soaking in the pleasure of Anakin’s lips on her nipple. He cautiously flicks his tongue against the bud, watching through his lids as a moan falls from her lips, encouraging him to do it again. He flattens his tongue against her nipple and licks a long, fat stripe from the underside of it up, feeling her tremble in his arms. He lets go of her breast with a wet pop, trailing kisses through the valley between them to make his way to the other. 
 Touching him, feeling him, kissing him is somehow even better than she’d ever imagined, even after all those years of dreaming for moments like this. She can’t believe she’s gone so long without feeling him like this, she doesn’t think she can ever stop touching him. 
 Anakin suckles on her breast, flicking his tongue against her nipple as his hand not wrapped in a glove ventures down her body, past her waist, down her hip. He pulls the satin material of her dress up until his arm can sneak his way beneath it and she shivers when his fingers find her center over her underwear. Her nails dig into his sleeves above his shoulders, holding her breath as he finds the wet spot in her underwear, gently pressing against it. 
 Her hands tighten on his shoulders and ceases all movement, peering up at her. “You’re wet,” he says rather matter-of-factly because of course she is, how could she not be? She nods down at him, swallowing thick layers of saliva down her throat. “Can I touch you here?” He asks and his voice drops to that silky, velvety tone that makes her core ache. She presses her lips together to stifle her groan, head vigorously nodding up and down. 
 “Gods yes, Anakin,” she moans, slowly rocking her hips against his finger. “Please.”
 She feels filthy in a way for asking, for needing friction so desperately. She’s only ever taken her own fingers when she’s too lost in pleasure at night to sleep, never been touched by anyone else but it’s all she craves now, for Anakin’s fingers to touch her, for him— whatever part it may be— to be inside her. 
 A flame had been ignited in the pit of her belly long ago, back when Anakin first stepped through the door the day they met. It’s sat stagnant for too long, waiting for its moment to further bloom and now it has. It blossomed when her eyes met Anakin’s that day in the courtyard but it’s now in full bloom, now that they burn together, now that his kisses have seared her skin, now that his fingers are pulling her underwear down her thighs, just enough that he can reach her center. 
 When his fingertips brush her clit, she bursts. 
 Anakin’s arm wraps around her waist as she practically collapses into him, his middle finger drawing circles against her clit, his breath hot as his lips rest on her brow. 
 “Is this good?” He asks against her forehead. “Do you feel good?” He questions again as he adds his forefinger to the mix, applying just a little more pressure and it makes her eyes roll. 
 “Yes, just… just don’t stop,” she exhales, feeling her stomach twist itself into a knot, his fingers against her clit threatening to pull it undone any moment. 
 So he doesn’t. 
 He’s unrelenting in the way his fingers press to the aching bud in her center, tracing tight circles until her eyes squeeze closed so hard, milky-ways shimmer behind her lids. He dares venture lower, gathering her slick on the pads of his fingers as he teases near her entrance. It’s a foreign and strange feeling, it’s a pattern she’s traced many times with her own fingers but never been touched by someone else. Even in spite of how many nights she spent trekking that path wishing it was Anakin’s fingers instead, but it’s still strange feeling him there now. 
 She clutches his arm tighter and he slows, beginning to retract his hand. She stops him, lifting her head until their eyes meet again. 
 “No,” she pants, shaking her head. “Don’t stop, just… just take it slow.”
 He nods, his finger a little unsure as it circles her entrance, unintentionally teasing until she begins to crack. She’s panting, trying to wiggle her hips so that she can draw his fingers in, seeking that feeling of being full. Anakin dips his forefinger into her hole and she tosses her head back, her lips parting for an “oh” to emit. 
 He watches her face, even if she can’t see it, she can feel his gaze behind her closed lids. He is testing the waters, learning what makes her moan, what makes her squirm, what makes her come. Slowly, he sinks his finger further in and she feels every single millimeter that drags along her walls until he’s knuckle deep. Her legs feel like jelly and her knees begin to wobble, nails clinging to his sleeves like they were her lifeline. 
 Pressure builds in the pit of her belly as Anakin carefully retracts his finger, just to sink it back in again, a slow, cautious rhythm that leaves her mind spinning. His fingers are so much bigger than hers and she already feels so stuffed despite it only being one finger. Somehow, it’s too much and not enough at the same time. 
 “Ana… Anakin,” she gasps, peeling open her lids to find he’s already looking. His finger slows but picks up its pace again when he realizes she’s not in any pain. “Another.”
 His brow dips and his head tilts in confusion, uncertain what she means. She gathers moisture on her lips, trying to speak through the pleasure-driven haze in her mind. 
 “Another finger. Please.”
 Their eyes lock and there’s a flicker in his, a hint of doubt. 
 “Are you su—“
 “Please.”
 So, Anakin gathers her lips with his and she mewls into his mouth when he presses his middle against his pointer, sinking them into her cunt until they reach as far as they can. She’s trembling against him but he keeps her upright, with his arm and with his lips. 
 Just one of Anakin’s fingers had made her feel stuffed but two of his fingers made her feel full to the brim. Her walls clench around his fingers and she gasps his name like the beginning of a prayer, pleading for more. 
 It’s a twist on the prayers she recites to the Maker every night. It’s rewriting her every broken hymn, transforming it into something entirely new. She moans Anakin’s name and his fingers turn it into a song so that she cries like a dove into the night. The Maker may have left her feeling broken, wasted, unimportant but Anakin has found her, patched her up, polished her until she’s brand new. 
 The tangle in her belly begins to rupture, slowly unraveling and so she pushes his arm away, his fingers sliding out of her cunt, her walls pulsing with the loss. They both pant and Anakin’s face hardens in question as his chest heaves. 
 “What is it?” He asks, searching her face. 
 She gathers air deep in her chest. “I want…” She trails off, her embarrassment washing over her cheeks in blood. Her gaze drops and Anakin tilts his head to find it again, their eyes locked. He says nothing, only the nod of his head encourages her to continue. “…I want more. I want… I want you to…”
 She purses her lips in frustration. For heaven’s sake, she’s talking to the man who just had his fingers inside of her mere moments ago. Why does she feel embarrassed now?
 She takes another deep breath, mustering the courage to tell what she truly wants. “…I want you to feel good too.”
 Something shifts in Anakin’s eyes. It could be easily mistaken as a trick of the light but she sees it, she feels it. Anakin is burning just the same as her, his pupils becoming a backdrop behind the fires of desire, and she burns within it. 
 She watches as Anakin’s hand sinks below the belt around his middle, all the way down to the waistband of his trousers beneath his dark tunic. She watches with her breath lodged at the base of her throat as he pulls down his pants, just enough for his cock to be set free and oh, it is just like her dreams but even better. 
 Nothing could have ever prepared her for the sight of Anakin Skywalker’s cock. Not even the wildest of her dreams could ever capture the essence of the art of Anakin Skywalker. He is handcrafted by the gods themselves— he is the physical embodiment of masterpiece. 
 He steps forward and towers over her, his breath like smoke rolling over her face. She peers up at him, her chest heaving with the effort of breathing. His hands find either side of her face and she stops breathing altogether, wondering what he will do next. 
 Then, “put your arms here,” he whispers, guiding her arms over his shoulder. “And hold on.”
 She squeals when he drops his hands to the undersides of her thighs, lifting her off the ground so that her ankles lock behind his back. Her arms tighten around his neck as he presses her back against the pillar, his chest pressed into hers. She can feel his length as it’s squeezed between either of their bodies and her walls clench around nothing, practically sobbing to feel him inside. 
 For a moment, the world stills around them and it’s like when she sees him in the audience during Padmé’s wedding. The night stirs and blurs until it’s dark watercolor, but Anakin is what she sees in high resolution. It’s the perfect mirage— she and Anakin feel like two stars in the middle of the black abyss above, forming their own little constellation. 
 And when Anakin finally slides himself inside of her, she feels like her place in the sea of stars has been cemented. She finally feels like she’s where she belongs.
Tumblr media
a/n; SO! MY LONGEST IMAGINE YET.... may or may not have gotten a bit carried away (more like a little too wordy...) BUT! i really hope some of you enjoy and i truly appreciate anyone who reads this all the way through. i know 10k words is a lot 😭 also i hope this doesn’t seem too insta-lovey… this idea just came to me in a dream so i wrote what I dreamt lol
💫 if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the world to me 🫶
TAGLIST
@your-nanas-house
@chaoticevilbakugo
@k1ttenmittonz
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
hanasnx · 1 year
Text
Kinktober: House of Amateurs - S1E1
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
MINORS DNI 18+
SUMMARY: october 1st | sunday kinks: breeding kink WC: 1k | CHARACTERS: anakin skywalker x f!reader WARNINGS: f!reader | dom!anakin | pnp | coitus | kinks: breeding, myophilia, size, degradation | impact play: marking, biting, spanking | mentioned: pregnancy, lactation, titjob | doggy style | unprotected sex | mommy issues | body image: “fat tits.” | no y/n
KRAYT HOUSE M.LIST | NAVI | INBOX | @KRAYTHOUSE
Tumblr media
“Don’t you wanna fill me up?” Your persuading words had no sooner left your lips than Anakin stands at attention. That intense and addicting gaze lands on you, shooting lightning down your spine. A motion so quick you jump in response, knowing exactly what’s in store for you now that you’ve made your desires clear. Out of pure habit, you retreat, giving him a thrilling chase towards the living room, pushing through the kitchen door.
“Don’t hide from me, baby, I can fucking smell you.” That booming voice calls out to you, a shriek of delight emitting from your throat in reply. You whirl around at the sound of the door slamming against the wall when he stormed through it. “You want me? You’ll get me. All of me.” Your movements slow, backing up as he hunts you down. Tall, intimidating, and scowling… Anakin Skywalker paralyzes you. Hypnotized by his figure and how it stalks towards you, the backs of your knees bump the armrest of the couch. Out of habit, you glance over your shoulder to visualize what’s behind you, when a large hand shoves at your chest. You fall until your back collides with the cushions, wide eyes searching his for an ounce of regret. There is none. As he crawls on top of you, strong hands grip the undersides of your thighs, slotting in between them. “Where’s that sharp tongue now?” he taunts, “Are you afraid?”
“No,” you answer, allowing him to do as he pleases with your body.
“Do you know what I’m going to do to you?” The warmth of his crotch nears, sunning your loosened hole. You’d been hopelessly horny all day. Hard, and long, the familiar outline of his length presses against your folds through the fabric of your pajama shorts.
You shake your head to his question.
That talented tongue moistens his plump lips, refusing to break your eye contact as he dips his head down to place heated open-mouthed kisses against your chest. Trailing them down to your freed tits, palming them to mold a crevice in which he fits his face into. Sharp teeth sink into the flesh, no doubt leaving a print. The sting causes your yelp, jerking your head away.
“Fucking look at me.” Anakin demands, grip tightening onto the fat of your chest, pinching your perked buds between his thumbs and indexes. Pain teaches you, and you obey him. “I’m gonna fill you up, like you asked.”
“Fuck, baby, you ovulating? You’re moaning like a fucking pornstar.” Anakin muses, big hand spanking your ass hard enough to leave a mark. That hand remains grasping onto your cheek, directing your movements as you bounce on his thick cock. On all fours in front of him, it amplifies how deep he can go, and you’re swallowing him up so well you feel every ridge of his veins. Leisurely, he thrusts into you, leaning back onto his haunches. “Better be quiet, don’t want the girls to walk in, huh?” To force more noise out of your gaping jaw, he increases his pace, gripping onto your torso to yank you into him. As expected, you scream, burying your face into the cushions to muffle yourself. “Yeah, makes sense. You want me all to yourself, don’t want the others to come take me from you.” he tells you, “I’ll help you.”
He curls his body over you, his hot skin against your arched back as he humps into your squelching hole. Palming the back of your head, he shoves you further into the pillow, the angle shifting to hit the spongy spot inside you. You’re louder than before, and it makes him laugh into your ear.
“Shut the fuck up, baby,” he warns, the playful manner of it starkly contrasted to how he’s been treating you up until this point. “at this rate they’ll figure out what all the commotion is about.”
You can only moan, your body liquefying, flexible to his whims as he uses it to chase down his own high.
“I know why you got me alone.” he confesses, his whispers sending— impossibly— more tingles straight to the fire between your legs. It dampens you, aiding his endeavoring in fucking your hole until it gives out. The pressure on your neck aches, and you recycle your own breath, dizzy. “Knew I could fucking smell it on you. You’re in heat.”
Without thinking, you whine and nod your head.
He keeps talking. “You need a baby, and you need me to give one to you, right?”
Mindlessly, you agree.
“That’s what I fucking thought. Stopped complaining as soon as I got inside.”
His cruel words pierce you in the most pleasurable ways.
“Want me to shoot a load in you, knock you up. Want me to put you out on the streets when I’m done with you?”
That warrants a response, protesting him immediately, “No!”
Another breathless chuckle washes over you, picking himself up to scrape his nails along your torso, admiring the view of your perfect ass rocking on his cock. “Was checking to see if you were listening.”
You whimper, embarrassed without reasonable cause. Now that he’s released the back of your head, you turn it, gasping for fresh air, cold on your tongue.
“Fuck, your tits are already fat. They’re gonna get even bigger. You’ll let me milk ‘em, right? If I put a baby in you, means I get to suck on your tits all I want. You’re such a whore for me you’ll let me.”
Your brain can’t form coherent responses, your trap permanently hangs open, allowing any noise to pass through it from the pit of your stomach. That familiar coil tightening to an uncomfortable degree with each dirty phrase he spits at you.
“If you’re this well-behaved, I might fuck your milky tits. Watch it spray out your cute nipples. Fuck, that’d be cute. Get all messy from my cock in between ‘em.”
“Anakin!”
“Yeah, yeah, you want me to breed you, I get it. Can’t stop thinking about what you’ll look like, all plump and swollen from my cum. See how big your belly gets, thinking it’s my kid in there and no one else’s. My cum did that. My cock in you right now is doing that…”
Tumblr media
862 notes · View notes