#unburnt Vader
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FOR YOU 4
Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!reader (Later will turn into Unburnt Vader x rebel! reader)
Full series
Previous chapter - 3
Next Chapter - 5 (Not published yet)
Warnings (For the whole series): noncon, dubcon, dom/sub dynamics (basically filth)
Warnings (for this chapter): Noncon touching + kissing. Anakin being scary. Anakin being possessive. Humiliation. Anakin also being kinda...nice? Calm?
. . .
For the millionth time, you couldn't believe you were in this position. You were placed on Anakin's lap, his one arm wrapped around your waist, his chin brushing the top of your head as he flew the ship. His large hand was resting on your waist, rubbing it up and down so casually like he was doing something he always did, something very ordinary.
Soon, the ship was in hyperspace, and Anakin relaxed on his seat, pulling you till you were forced to lay on his chest. You kept your eyes fixed on the beautiful hyperspace, trying to ignore the monster holding you captive.
"Little one," he murmured. "You look beautiful with the light of stars on your face." His mechanical hand cupped your face and pulled at it till you were forced to meet his eyes. His eyes were only slightly yellow, somehow gentle for the first time. His lips pressed against your forehead. "My love." His lips brushed your cheek gently.
He did that for a while. You held your breath. His lips brushed all over his face, kissing as if worshipping. For a few moments, he was the soft Anakin you sometimes watched from afar. When he was normal.
"We should be there in a few hours," he said. "You should get some sleep." He moved you till you were lying sideways on his lap, your head resting on his chest.
"I-I can go to the co-pilot seat-"
"No." Yellow flickered in his eyes. "Sit still."
You did.
Slowly, his steady breathing and the slight noise of the ship lulled you to sleep. The last thing you vaguely remembered was Anakin pressed his lips against you in a brief kiss, zooming through the stars.
. . .
"W-what are we doing on...Alderaan, master?"
He helped you down the ship, basically carrying you in his arms. "Some business with Senator Organa. Come on."
You both walked inside and were warmly welcomed. You smiled shyly, answering the questions that the senator and others asked during dinner, and before you knew it, you were in a guestroom, wondering what business Anakin had with the senator. But, no matter how curious you were, you would never ask.
You had to find a way to get out of being his apprentice. You didn't know how that could happen. He had even taken your lightsaber and your ass was bruised because of him. He had taken full control of your life in mere weeks.
Telling Obi-Wan always seemed like a good idea, but at the same time, Anakin was close to him. What if he didn't listen? What if you were just labelled as a liar by the whole Jedi order? People worshipped Anakin while they tolerated you. You might be beautiful but strength with the Force is power in the Jedi Order.
The door opened.
Your eyes fell upon Anakin as he entered and casually closed the door. "Why aren't you sleeping?"
"I-I couldn't, master. It's a new place."
He took off his robe, leaving himself in his trousers. He set his lightsaber down beside his neatly folded robe and walked towards you with unhurried, intimidating steps. You gulped at the showcase of strength his body was, his dark mechanical hand a contrast to his skin. His abs were easily defined, and a few scars littered his body. He was a general who was fighting in the Cole Wars; of course he was built to the bone.
It made you terrified. It made you nervous. In no aspect whatsoever could you ever overpower him. Force. Physical strength.
"A-are you going to sleep here?"
"Yes."
He got into the bed, pulling you to his side easily, his arm curled under your waist, dragging you to his chest.
"I-I can do to the other room if you l-like this one better-"
He chuckled. "I like my little Padawan sleeping on me." His large hand travelled down and grabbed your ass. You winced. Your ass was still tender from the punishment he had given you.
He didn't react, he just petted your ass, keeping his hand there. Slowly, he fell asleep while you lay tensed in his arms, biting a hole through your bottom lip in anxiety.
Only when the morning came did your exhausted eyes finally drop into a troubled sleep filled with flashing yellow eyes, dark smirks and, for some reason, a muscular, giant hand holding a red lightsaber.
. . .
Anakin was a shadow you could not shake. If he wasn't following you, R2D2 was. The little white and blue droid followed you everywhere, and sometimes both of them were there, watching over you.
The trip to Alderaan proved to be some preparation for a humanitarian mission the Jedi were to be given, to go around some Separatist blockade to apply food to a small planet. The mission was for your master and Master Kenobi. You would just tag along.
Soon, the plans were finalised, and before long, you and Anakin were back in his ship, with your sitting on his lap, and back in hyperspace. Now, he was tense. The yellow of his eyes was obvious, and now you knew enough to know that he was about to do something brutal.
"Are you tired?" Maker, even his voice had deepened. It rumbled through your body, making it tremble in fear.
"No, master-"
His giant hands landed on your thighs, and before you knew it, he had spread your legs, pulled your robes open, and somehow immobilized them in a way that you could only move your knees, not your feet.
"W-wait- what are you doing-"
"Spread."
"What-"
"Spread."
You spread your knees, trembling like a leaf. His large hands ripped your trousers and pulled your tunic up, exposing just your simple panties covering you.
"Do you know-" he began, his rough, large hands resting on your soft inner thighs, rubbing up and down, "- how many men were looking at you, little one? How many of them couldn't fucking tear their eyes away from my padawan? They wanted to fuck you. They wanted to bend you over and use all your holes." You whimpered at the words, shaking your head, small hands trembling with the effort to not grab his hands and try to tug them away.
"W-wait- they weren't- t-they-"
"I could feel it," he said. "The Force tells me everything, little one. Their desire, your fear."
His finger brushed your pussy, and you flinched at the touch. His lips pressed against your ear, and he tugged a finger inside your panties, touching your bare hole.
"So small," he muttered. "Let's stretch this cunt out, yes?"
. . .
Lmk what you think of the story so far <3
#anakin skywalker#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin smut#anakin x reader#darth vader#darth vader smut#star wars anakin#unburnt vader#yandere smut#star wars#yandere#tw noncon#dubc0n
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𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬
❛ ᴜɴᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ❜
PAIRINGS: Unburnt Vader x Rebel reader SYNOPSIS: You go on undercover mission as an Imperial, catching the eye of none other than the infamous sith lord, Lord Vader. One of your most notorious enemies, it's a good thing he knows you by your alias. Not by your face. For now at least... WARNINGS: Deceit, smut, swearing... NOTES: This is my first time writing smut so it is by no means a masterpiece. But I hope you like it. This Vader x rebel reader series I read ages ago inspired me to write my own. I can’t find it but if you know what I’m talking about please let me know.
「 You 」
Three years working for the Rebellion, and not once could I have pictured ending up… here.
Bent over, on the desk of Lord Vader. Yes, Lord Vader. Darth Vader, the Emperor’s apprentice. My breath came out shaky. No surprise considering I was being practically impaled by Darth Vader’s cock. Moan after moan tumbled from my lips, my jaw gone slack from my seemingly unending cries of pleasure. My fingers clutched the end of the table like my life depended on it. As it creaked from his unrelenting thrusts, his hips meeting mine. The slapping of skin echoed through the room, followed by his loud grunts and occasional whimpers. His soft yet calloused hands gripped my hips like a vice. My body rocking into the desk with each thrust, his cock stretching me out. It felt like he was about to split me in half, “doing so well for me sweetheart.” He grunts in between sharp thrusts. “Fuck…” He mumbles breathlessly, I could feel his length throbbing inside me. Looking down, I see his balls swinging with each thrust. The warm skin of his palm rubbing my back, “like what you see princess.” Reaching his remaining hand on your hip to your clit. Rubbing circles on the sensitive nub making me jolt. Letting out another moan, “mmm… You like that don’t you sweetheart?” He asks rhetorically, giving another sharp thrust. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, my pussy clenching around his length. As my orgasm hits, cumming all over his cock.
He didn’t relent, continuing to forcefully thrust into me without fail. His cock drilling my cum back into me as he threw his head back. Moaning without shame, “f-fuck sweetheart.” He stutters and I feel his hips tremble as I whine in overstimulation. The tip of his cock kissing my cervix as his breath hitches, his hips jolt forward. Followed by the release of his warm seed, painting my insides white. He collapses forward onto me. His skin sweaty and his weight pinning me to the desk. As he gives a few more slow ruts, a soft whimper escaping him. “Mmm… think I’m gonna have to keep you all to myself.” He whispers, kissing in between my shoulder blades. Stilling his thrusts, running his warm hands up and down my sides gently in a soothing motion. “Hmm? Make you my little Empress, would you like that sweetheart?” He nuzzles into the crook of my neck. Planting soft kisses along the skin there as I caught my breath. “Bet you would…” He whispers, nibbling on my earlobe. “Could have everything you’ve ever dreamed, princess.” Giving my waist a gentle squeeze, “all you’d have to do is warm my bed darling. Have you on your back, taking my cock like a good girl…” He kisses the soft skin behind my ear, making me whimper. “Oh don’t be afraid darling, I’ll take such good care of you.” He whisper sweetly, gently prying my hands off the edge of the table. Rubbing the skin of my knuckles with his thumbs, releasing all the tension.
Intertwining our fingers, his thumbs stroking the back of my hands. He lets out a sigh, his warm breath hitting my neck. Goosebumps forming in its wake. He rests his chin on my shoulder, “how you feeling my sweet girl?” He asks softly, releasing one of my hands to gently brush the hair out of my face. Making me smile softly, oh maker. I nod slowly, trying to gather my thoughts. “I’m okay…” He chuckles softly, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. While brushing his fingertips along the skin of my cheek, ever so lightly. As if I’d break if he was any rougher, “yeah? You took me so well sweetheart. So proud…” He gives my shoulder a gentle kiss, I could feel his cock softening slightly. “M’gonna-” He gets cut off my his commlink going off. He groans in annoyance, giving my shoulder another kiss. Before pivoting his head to the side. Picking it up from his desk, smirking slightly at the mess we’d made. I watch him roll his eyes, answering. “What?” He asks bluntly, the annoyance at being disturbed clear in his voice. A sheepish voice responds, clearly picking up on his irritation. “I’m sorry to disturb you My Lord, but the Emperor has personally requested your presence at our current meeti-” I hear him growl softly, the vibrations from his chest travelled into my own. Making me shiver slightly, he noticed. His hand on my cheek travelled back to my waist. Rubbing soft circles comfortingly, “I’ll be there.” He responded shortly, before crushing the commlink. Letting the pieces fall to the floor. He let out a sigh, dropping his head down. His forehead resting on my upper back. Nuzzling into it softly, he reminded me of a puppy. This was the almighty Darth Vader? Surely there has been some sort of mix up? “M’sorry sweetheart, I have to go.” He said softly, his voice just above a whisper. His hand on my waist travels up. Cradling the back of my head, turning it to the side gently. So his lips could meet mine, his kiss was surprisingly soft. All traces of previous annoyance had disappeared. Like footprints being washed away by the sea.
He intertwined our fingers again, giving my hand another gentle squeeze. I could feel him smiling into the kiss. Before he pulled back slowly, resting his forehead against the side of my head. He pulled off me a little. His weight no longer pinning me to the desk, but I could still feel a light layer of his sweat coating my back. He gently flips me onto my back, I wince slightly at the change in angles. Watching as his brows furrowed slightly at the stimulation. He leans back on top of me, his weight now pressing again my front. Chest to chest, I felt my nipples hardening again at the contact. He clearly felt it too as I saw a smirk tugging at his lips… His gorgeous, soft, plump lips… Stop that. He brought both hands up to my face, cupping it softly. Pressing his forehead against mine. Our noses brushing against each other. “You sure you’re okay?” He asks, his eyes searching mine. For something I wasn’t quite sure, was he actually worried about me?
I chuckle softly, “I’m fine.” He runs his thumb along my bottom lip, flicking it gently. His eyes were fixated on my lips as he watched it snap back into place, while he ran his tongue along his own. Coating them in a thin layer of his saliva, the lights in the room reflecting off them.
“Don’t do that…” He whispers, causing me to furrow my brows.
“Don’t do what?” I ask curiously, tilting my head to the side.
Making him bite his lip softly in response, “don’t be so adorable.” I bite the inside of my cheek, trying not to laugh.
“I’m sorry I can’t help it.” He lets out a puff of air mockingly in response.
Poking the tip of my nose softly, “cheeky little thing.”
I smile softly, “you should probably be getting to your meeting. Sounds… important.” I whisper, observing him. Seeing some of his curls stuck to his forehead from our… activities. I absentmindedly brush them back, out of his face. His eyes watching my movement. Now I noticed his cheeks flushed a pastel pink, from the sex? Or was he… nervous? No way, no surely not…
His gentle voice brings me from my thoughts, “important?” He hums, pressing his soft lips to my forehead. “Probably not,” his husky voice uttered. “Just incompetent imperials needing me to do their work for them.” He all but sighs out, my eyebrows furrowed slightly. And I brought my arms up slowly, wrapping them around his torso. Which felt way more tiresome that it should of, maker what has he done to me? My limbs felt completely useless, I feel him take a deep breath. His chest rising and his stomach pressing into mine. Which also pushed his hips to meet mine, gently thrusting his cock deeper into me. Making me let out a soft whine, as his breath hitches. “Fuck sorry sweetheart I forgot,” he mutters. I could practically feel the grin on his face, as he trails a hand down. Gently pressing on my lower stomach, feeling where he was inside me. Making me jolt, clinging to his back. “Mmm your so warm princess, don’t wanna leave.” He pats my lower stomach softly, I could feel our combined release running down my thighs. “Your pussy’s clenching me so tight, don’t think you want me to leave either… hmm?” I could feel his smirk against my forehead, I poke his ribs in response. He lets out a soft chuckle.
“Your really not as funny as you think you are,” I retort. He lifts his lips off my forehead, looking down at me.
“Aren’t I?” He teases, licking his lips.
I shake my head, “nope-” He leans down, silencing me with a kiss. He sucks on my bottom lip softly, while his hands trail up to my breasts. Cupping them, his thumbs toying with my nipples. Making me moan softly into his mouth, my back arching slightly. I pull back a little, and he lets a soft sigh slip.
“I gotta go to work sweetheart,” he mumbles. The disdain at having to leave clear in his voice. I cup his cheek softly, and he leans into my touch.
I try to fight off a smile, “I know…” With one last kiss he reluctantly pulls away, running his fingers along my cheek. He places his other hand on my hip, steadying me.
He looks down at his cock, a grin on his face. He slowly pulls out, letting out a low hiss from the stimulation. He watches our cum leak out of me. Crouching down he holds my legs apart, placing a gently kiss on my pussy. Licking a strip, making me shiver in response. A moan escaping his lips before he stands back up. His naked form on full display as he looks for his discarded clothes. Littered along the floor of his office.
He yanks his boxers and pants back up his legs, tucking his spent cock back in place. Before bending over, picking up his shirt and robe. Damn he has a nice ass for a man. I shake my head, covering my mouth with my hand. Get a grip. I look back to him and he was struggling to tie his robe, muttering curse words under his breath. I sit up slowly, trying to find my balance. “Here,” I offer. He looks up from the messy knot he made, walking back over. Standing in front of me he places his hands on my waist.
Resting his chin on top of my head, “thanks sweetheart.”
“You’re welcome,” I murmur. Finish tying up his robe, “is it too tight?” I ask, looking up slightly. He shakes his head, cupping the back of mine.
“No it’s good,” he runs his fingers through my hair softly. I felt his Adam’s apple bob as he spoke. His other hand trail down my back to my ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. Before he removes his hand off my ass, scribbling something down on a sticky note. He pulls back to look into my eyes, keeping his hand in my hair. Brushing it softly, his eyes were blue… Weren’t they supposed to be yellow? “What is it?” He asks curiously, I must not of being doing a good job at hiding my confusion.
“Your eyes…” I mutter, before mine drift to something I had yet to notice.
“Oh yes the yellow can be… unnerving.” He whispers the last part, almost as if he was ashamed.
I shake my head, “no that’s not what I meant…” I paused, and he seemed to perk up slightly at my response. I bite my tongue to stop myself from laughing when I see my name on a board behind him. A board of the… rebellion. Oh shit this is bad. “Little Minx?” I raise a brow, he immediately broke out into a grin. Looking behind him, to see the board I was staring at.
“Long story…” He turns back to face me, cupping my jaw gently. “My private chambers are just down the hall if you need anything,” he slides the sticky note to me. With the code to his chambers on it, “if anyone gives you any trouble just tell them I sent you.”
He leans closer, pressing a kiss to my temple. Longer for a moment, breathing me in. “I’ll be right back sweetheart, make yourself comfortable.” He pulls away slowly, as if he was reluctant to. He releases his gentle grip on my jaw, to smooth down my hair. Before giving my ass a gentle pat, before heading to the door of his office. Using the force to open the door, show off. “I’ll be in conference room B if you need me darling. Try not to miss me too much,” he winks.
Heading out the door, shutting it behind him. I let out a sigh, “holy shit.” I mumble under my breath, rubbing my face to try to gather myself. I grip the edge of the desk I was currently on… naked. This was so not part of the plan. The plan! The files, I look around. Standing up on shaky legs, my knees buckling for a moment.
To be continued…
Dividers by @vibeswithrenai + @diariodefresa
#anakin skywalker#star wars#hayden christensen#vader#darth vader#darth vader x reader#darth vader x you#vader x reader#vader x reader smut#lord vader#star wars imagine#unburnt vader#suitless vader#rebel reader#rebellion#the rebel alliance#vader x rebel reader#x rebel reader#[ mistress amidala works ]
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thinking about writing a fic about unburnt!vader & apprentice!reader where the reader convinces vader to leave the empire because they’re in love. they kill palpatine together & leave for naboo where they find a cabin in the woods to live temporarily & later on, they find work at a farm until they make enough money to open a bakery in town & it ends with the reader & vader (who changes his name back to anakin somewhere in the fic) buying a lake house & starting a family together.
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I sigh, my legs falling freely softly swaying, as I sit on the desk contemplating my life or the lack thereof. Vader looks at me silently and speaks up, "what is bothering you, my precious star?" I look at him wondering if he could be serious.
"My life has been stolen" I reply.
Vader looks at me coldly "No I have brought you here to this palace and provided you with wealth and luxury" he pauses glancing around, "look at all the beautiful things we have here".
I scoff, "beautiful things? What about my freedom? What about that or love? REAL love."
"My dear wife, my love for you is true. You are a rare beauty, and I will take care of you. Your freedom must be sacrificed for you to understand my desire to keep you safe."
He approaches me and puts his arm around my shoulders.
"Do you not love me?" He questions.
I laugh loudly causing him to look at me in anger.
"No. Not at all. You are psychotic" I smile sarcastically.
He smiles coldly. "There is no need for harsh words" he pauses.
"I have given you a privileged life, and you will learn to love me in time. Now, enough sadness, no more tears."
I scoff for a second time. "I will not shed tears over the likes of you."
"My little star, your defiance does not entertain me. Do you not understand the consequences of your actions?"
He walks in front of you now, his stature towering over me.
"I will not be talked to like I am some common pest. I will be loved and appreciated."
"Careful you sound desperate." I say snidely.
"My star, you must understand it is your place to make me happy, to please me." He leans down close to me, his face is just inches from my own, his breath fanning on my neck.
"I am a Sith Lord. I am not to be disappointed."
"A shame because you certainly disappoint me my lord" I hiss out.
He grips my chin tightly and looks into my eyes and for a split second, I can feel his anger. He takes his other hand and smacks me across the face, his voice cold and calm.
"My darling little star, I do not take these insults from you lightly."
I grunt in pain at the impact.
"I am not to be defied." He says
his expression softening a touch as he looks at me, his breath and face close to mine.
"Star please do not make me punish you again." I shiver in slight fear.
"I hate you" I say venom in my words.
he smiles and caresses my hand, his expression now seemingly showing real care or something similar to it.
"How could you ever say that to me? After all that I have given you?"
"Your crazy do you understand this? You are crazy." I spat out at him.
"My precious little star, you must learn to respect to me. I have been far too generous with you, and you have taken advantage. No more." He grabs me and lifts me up to his eye-level, his breath inches away from my face.
"What are you going to do?" I question him
He looks me dead in the eyes and I swear I can see in his mind, he's trying to decide what to do and is contemplating different cruel punishments, I'm sure of it.
"I... I will punish you, my love. But I will do it only because I love you dearly, otherwise I would never."
I laugh dryly, "You do not love me. This is obsession".
Vader smiles again, his expression changing from one of care to one of sadistic amusement, his eyes looking through me with pleasure and amusement
"My star, you are right. In fact I do not love you, I desire you. After all, the feeling of possession drives me more than the feeling of loving another."
his eyes assess me up and down whilst staring at me with clear lust in his eyes
"You're sick" I whimper slowly inching back
He leans down to me and whispers....his lips right next to my ear, "I am, aren't I? Oh how I love it."
His tone is dark, his smile evil, "and now, my love, it is punishment time." he smirks
"No wait!" I all but scream.
I'm pinned down to the wall behind me and he moves in much closer then before as if he was about to give me a kiss. His breathing is shallow and he is looking at me with some type of hunger
"No use trying to beg my little star." he whispers "your protests arouse me. Now, I am going to show you what a punishment is like."
"You can pretend all you want Vader... but I will never be her..."
The expression on his face turns from amusement and lust, to anger and frustration.
"Yes, I know, my dear. I will never have the real Padmè and the love she felt for me. You are nothing to me but a sad replacement that I will now have the pleasure to abuse."
"She'd be disgusted and so disappointed" I say trying to play on his emotions. He doesn't bat an eyelash at you, "I can't replace her and you know it!" I begin to panic.
"Oh, don't worry, my dear. I do not intend to make you into her. But, because you do remind me of her so much, I will remind myself of her through you." his grip on me tightens, he brings his lips a centimeter away from my own.
My heart thunders in my chest.. "what if I can learn to love you?!" I start trying to weasel my way out of this one.
"My dear, you do not need to learn to love me. I am your husband, and you may not have any choice in this matter. You will love me, or I will teach you to." his eyes scan up and down the length of my body, his breath heavy and shallow. His grip is very tight.
"Or rather...make you love me."
I knew I was screwed.
#star wars#anakin x you#anakin skywalker#dark side#darth vader#unburnt vader#crispy vader#one shot#Vaders husband material#ani x you#anakin skywalker x reader#darth vader x reader#unburnt vader x reader#Star Wars x reader#may the force be with you#fiction
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wrapped around your finger
paring : darth vader x reader
summary: vader fucks you hard.
trigger warnings: 18+, mdni, smut (obvi), overstimulation, unprotected, fluff bcs i cant resist :)))
masterlist
In his lap, you are utterly pliant, arms wrapped around his shoulders as you hold on for your life. Time is merely a construct when he has you like this, unable to discern your reality as you lose yourself in pleasure. Orgasm after orgasm, slick coating his cock and dripping down your shaky thighs.
His cum leaks out endlessly as he mercilessly has his way with you. Vader still does not falter in his pace as he thrusts up into you, grunting here and there as he leaves you dizzy and breathless.
He too has lost count of how many times he’s come inside your sweet cunt, all he knows is he can’t get enough.
“Vader, it's—it's too much…” you beg him in between gasps and moans.
Vader gives no reply, only kisses on your collarbone as he bounces you on his cock. The coil within you begins to tense once again, curling your toes, you know another orgasm is near. Another one would surely make your eyes roll to the back of your head, the overstimulation and exhaustion simply too much.
He loves the way you let him use you, moving you up and down on his cock. The way your body holds onto his when he has you like this, he never wants to stop. The clenching of your walls around his cock spurs him on again, sending his pace faster. His grunts are so hot and heavy, you’d kiss him if you weren’t so out of it.
The pleasure heightens and heightens until it snaps. It spreads intensely through your body and you come undone on his cock again. The pleasure is too much, it sends your world into black as your body trembles with the force of your orgasm.
As your body goes limp, Vader shoots another thick load of his into you, coating your walls endlessly in his seed. Your walls are so tight when you come, clamping down on his cock. He grunts and groans loudly as he drains himself inside you, he’s giving you every last drop.
Noticing your limp frame, Vader quickly pulls your face to his. He brushes the strands of hair sticking to your face away. “ Shh, sweetheart…you alright?” he soothes you, jostling your frame slightly to pull you back into consciousness.
Your eyes open slightly, still dazed from the fucking he just gave you.
Pulling out his cock, he watches as his thick cum drips out of you. The sight is enough to get him hard again but he restrains himself, another round would push you too far. He lays your dazed form onto the bed, stroking your cheek to calm you down and bring you back to him.
When you come to, he’s right there. Steadfastly by your side, he’s both concerned and ready to help you. The look in his eyes though, are too lovely to ignore. Before you could get lost in them, he pulls you up to drink some water.
“You alright?” He asks quietly.
Too tired to reply, you nod, handing him back the glass of water before laying down. He leans down and tucks your hair behind your ear then, stroking your cheek gently. He looks down at you, watching you relax and fall asleep.
He knows, he always does, that the gentle stroke on your cheek always pulls you back to him and lulls your body to sleep. You’ll never know that after he lays the covers on you, he often doesn’t sleep, he never sleeps much anyways.
Vader remains too enthralled by the sight in front of him. He couldn’t believe you are in his bed, pussy leaking his cum and all fucked out. The common thought amongst others is that you love him blindly, ignorant of his heinous crimes. In truth, it's he who's blindly in love. He would burn down millions of galaxies again just to keep having you in his bed like this.
He supposes it’s true then, what you said. He’s hopelessly wrapped around your finger.
#anakin skywalker x reader#darth vader x reader#anakin skywalker#darth vader#hayden christensen#star wars#unburnt!vader#darth vader smut
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one of my favorite tropes/scenarios with anakin is that reader "died" while giving birth. but after luke and leia were born you just went into hiding, maybe even worked with the rebellion.
then one day, you come face to face with your own children. the kicker? they don't know who you are, and you aren't sure you should tell them for their own safety.
and, somehow, vader knows your alive.
anyways, i'm not sure how many people would be interested in this, but i thought i would put it out there as i slowly work on it!
#probably would be an “unburnt vader” for some anger/makeup sex#-what? who said that?#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker x you#anakin skywalker#darth vader#darth vader x reader#darth vader x you#abby talks ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
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'suitless vader' 'unburnt vader' GET ME OOOUUUUUUTTTTTTTT AAAAAAAAAAAAAA
#rory's rambles 🐁#darth vader but he's unburnt his skin glows his gorgeous curls are still there and his eyes are blue not that fugly yellow s*th color#star wars#anakin skywalker#darth vader
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Sunkiller Lullaby Part Four
Pairing: Darth Vader X Reader
Plot Summary: Your new guardian is revealed, and Lord Vader begins teaching you the ways of the Force.
Warnings: Unburnt!Vader. Canon-divergent. Descriptions of an injury. Lowkey toxic relationship. Corruption. Reader is a former slave. Improper use of the Force probably. Distressing visions. Vader is his own warning. Tension. AFAB Reader, feminine pronouns and descriptions used. Vague feminine nudity described. Mild 18+ warning.
Words: 6.4k
A/N: Hello everyone! It's finally here!! Thank you so much for all the support on this series, I appreciate each and every one of you, and I can’t wait to keep writing more for you! Please enjoy!
Eyes rolling in your head, you groan softly as you blink back into consciousness, sight and sound fading back in. As the fuzziness in your vision clears, the first thing your gaze locks onto are those horribly familiar blazing yellow eyes.
Your eyes widen instantly, the feeling of him cradling you suddenly becoming scorching. You tense violently in his grasp, and you barely managed to stifle a startled gasp.
“Easy, Princess.” your guardian soothes, a sanguine grin spread over his lips.
You’re frozen at the sound of hearing his voice for the first time, the smooth, even cadence to it.
Yet, you can’t help but correct him.
“(Y/N).” You say quietly, but firmly. This situation is already awkward enough, you don’t think you can handle him confusing you for royalty, the idea making your head swim again.
“(Y/N), then.” He replies coolly. “My mistake.”
His eyes slice up to the top of your head, and you are suddenly made painfully aware of the fact you are still wearing the ruby circlet your Master had gifted you. Your heart thuds painfully in your chest, and your breaths come all too quickly.
The shocking fact that this mysterious man truly even exists is still hitting you like a thunderbolt.
The sight of him exactly as you dreamed, the palpability of his touch, his scent, it’s all so overwhelming.
You feel like the whole of your being is set aflame.
Scrambling away from him as quickly as you can muster, you attempt to stand on shaken legs. He rises from kneeling as you do, placing a firm hand on your lower back to steady you.
“Easy.” he soothes you again, the feeling of his touch so acute that you tense again.
“You must be quite shaken.” He asserts.
“Y-Yes.” you falter, shambling out of his grasp.
It is only then that you realize your droid friend is in a frenzy, asking if you are alright.
You muster a nod before plopping onto the edge of your bed and snatching the circlet off of your head, placing it on your bedside table.
“I am bringing antihistamines and tea to help with the vertigo at once Milady, I insist!” the friendly droid declares while nodding fervently, before hastily leaving the room.
As the droid leaves the two of you in tense silence, you hang your head in your hands and take deep breaths. Shock and dread pool together and mix in your gut, and paired with your lightheadedness it makes you nauseous.
Calm down. You tell yourself.
They were only dreams. It wasn’t as if he had been there too. It’s not the end of the world. Just a deep secret you will have to hide.
You can do that right? You can hide your dream induced fascination?
Sure you can.
You have to.
As you collect yourself, you can feel the weight of his gaze upon you. In the waking world, you squirm beneath it, the authenticity and the palpability of his existence still feeling surreal and therefore, uncomfortable.
Your suite feels much smaller with his presence crowding it, the air thick with it, and the room suddenly feels claustrophobic.
You look up at him with a cautious glance, swallowing dryly before your voice breaks the silence.
“What is your name?” you ask your mysterious suitor quietly, your voice much breathier than you would have preferred.
“My name is none of your concern.” He says matter-of-factly, simply standing by the door with his hands folded.
“...Alright then.” You say, stunned for a moment by his shirking off of your question.
You let out an annoyed sigh through your nose, hanging your head back in your hands.
Nothing makes any sense, and you are beginning to think that making sense of the situation is a task for another day.
The smooth sound of his voice slices through the silence, and your gaze cuts up to meet his.
“My apologies if my presence here upsets you, my Lady.” He says softly, dipping his head in respect as he speaks. For a split second, your chest tightens, your mind jumping to the conclusion that he must know.
“I cannot imagine that you are often in the company of any Sith Lords beside Lord Vader.” he explains with a smile on the edge of his lips, and you release the breath you didn’t know you had been holding.
You shake your head, clearing your throat softly.
“You are correct. Lord Vader is the only Sith Lord I have ever met, but your presence is not a bother to me.” you say, your hesitant gaze flicking from him to the floor and back. “I am simply very, very tired.” you lie, picking at your nails idly.
Well, it wasn’t a complete lie anyway. You were tired, exhausted even.
He tips his head in understanding, a soft smile spreading across his lips. You’re struck by his smile, though if you’re honest, you’re struck by everything about him.
He is exactly as you remember, and your heart strings pull uncomfortably tight in your chest. He stands across the room near the door, and you steal nervous glances at him every chance you get.
He stands tall with his back to the wall, his posture disciplined, gloved hands folded in front of him. His golden hair falls in those same perfect, gleaming waves upon his shoulders, his lips plump and pursed in his observation, his aura murky and suffocating. His incandescent, fiery eyes scan the room, and you look away before your eyes can meet.
Suddenly, his attention turns to the door and the friendly service droid enters as if on cue. It quickly comes over to you with a saucer and cup of tea in hand, along with two small capsules.
“Here you are, Madam.” it says, placing the tea on your bedside table and handing you the capsules.
“Please take the medicine at once, Milady, it will do wonders.” the droid insists, and you comply, tossing the capsules back with a swig of warm tea.
“Thank you, my friend.” you say to the droid with a terse smile.
“Of course, Milady. If there should be anything else you require during the night, simply have your guardian send for me.” The droid says, a hint of worry in its voice.
“Absolutely. If anything were to happen, you shall be the first to know.” you assure the droid with a gentle smile.
“Very well, Madam. I shall leave you to rest then.” the kind droid says with a bow, before quietly leaving for the night.
As you’re left in wretched silence with your new guardian, the ambient noise of the room seems deafening. The buzzing of the lighting, the quiet humming of the ship’s climate controls, even the sound of your own breathing is overwhelming as you zone out, staring into the patterns on the carpeting.
You have the biting urge to run, to leave the room that is filled with his drowning presence.
So you do, in the least conspicuous way possible.
Slipping off of the silken sheets and keeping your gaze to the floor, you pace towards the washing room for a bath.
“What are you doing?” your mysterious guardian asks, the sound stopping you in your tracks.
Closing your eyes and clenching your fists to steady yourself, you swallow hard before responding.
“I’m going for a soak. I need one after today.” you state, valiantly attempting to hide your shaken nerves.
“Then I shall assist you.” he asserts smoothly, and you can hear heavy footsteps approaching, his energy closing in.
Your eyes snap open, and you instantly feel your cheeks go hot.
He can’t be serious.
“That won’t be necess-” you stammer out before he cuts you off.
“You just fainted and you are injured. It is absolutely necessary.” He insists, and you can feel his menacing shadow just behind you, the hairs on your neck standing on end.
“It is not necessary. I do not need someone watching me bathe as if I were a child.” you hiss through gritted teeth, your hands now trembling from the build up of nerves. You try to leave the conversation at that, quickly pacing towards the entrance of the washroom.
Before you can enter, he swiftly slips around you and blocks the doorway, leaning against the frame with a strong arm and towering over you.
“Unfortunately it is necessary my Lady. If you were to faint again or somehow otherwise become hurt, Lord Vader will have my head.” he says, and as infuriating as it is you know it to be true.
“And you think that would be my problem?” you spit, meeting his scorching gaze with a defiant glare. “That I should let you watch me bathe simply because of that? I think not.”
He throws his head back and lets out an amused sigh, before meeting your icy gaze in a way that makes it melt.
“If you take me for a degenerate, you are sadly mistaken, Milady. I would not even need to look.” he says, a smirk sliding across his lips as he watches your eyes go wide and the flush on your cheeks deepen.
“A-And how is that?” you falter, your facade beginning to crumble.
Letting out an amused huff and rolling his eyes, he lets his eyes fall shut. You watch in a mixture of wonder and confusion as he raises his right hand, flicking up a single finger. As he does, the lights in the washroom come to life.
When he opens his eyes again, he gives a satisfied chuckle at your shocked expression.
“Did you think Lord Vader was the only Sith Lord who is strong with the Force?” he laughs, and you’re struck, rooted to the spot knowing you have no counter arguments and no excuses; and you hate that fact.
You had no idea he would be this frustrating in the real world.
Knowing there’s nothing you can say to deter him, you let out an indignant huff and duck under his arm to enter the washroom.
He follows behind with a chuckle, the door sliding shut behind him. You immediately begin throwing off your clothes in your frustration, and you’re surprised to find him facing the wall when you turn back around.
Hmph. At least he respects what’s left of your dignity to some extent.
With shaking hands you turn on the faucet for the tub, allowing it to fill with steaming water. You do your best to ignore the man in the corner and the dark effulgence of his aura that fills the room, finding it difficult with the clench of anxiety tightening in your chest.
Despite the trembling in your bones and the rapid pace of your heartbeat, you slip into the tub, being careful to keep your bandages dry. The hot water is a shock to your skin, and you ease yourself into it.
As your body adjusts to the temperature, you can feel the bone-deep exhaustion melting away. You begin to pour salts and aromatics into the tub, sinking deeper into relaxation with every inhale of the calming aroma.
However, you aren’t completely off the edge of your anxiety. Every so often, your eyes flit over to the man standing in the corner; ensuring he’s still facing away from you, that he won’t suddenly move and try something.
It’s hard to fully give in and relax, to fully trust in someone.
Until recently, trust had been a concept entirely foreign, a word that held no meaning. In your past, trust had been little more than a promise of betrayal.
It’s hard to let that feeling go, as your hesitance and mistrust of others had become your shield so long ago.
But things are different now.
You aren’t there anymore, and you’re still grappling with that reality.
Yet, no matter how many times you look up, he never moves an inch. He stands still as a statue, facing the corner, his hands idly folded behind his back.
You wonder if the only thing keeping him to his word is the imminent threat of Lord Vader’s wrath.
It also crosses your mind that you may be prematurely judging your guardian, and you wonder if he truly is anything like he was in your dreams.
You remember the warmth and comfort he had brought you, the softness of his skin, the taste of his lips.
Remembering it all makes you blush, and you sink deeper into the tub.
Could all of it really just be a dream?
It had to be, you guess, for there are no other explanations.
Letting out a soft sigh through your nostrils, you busy yourself with washing up, hoping to rid your mind of all your itching questions and burning nerves. You grab a soft washcloth from the woven basket next to the tub, submerging it before pouring a dab of perfumed soap onto it. You get to work cleansing yourself of the muck and dust and dried blood left from being unconscious on the flight-deck, and all goes well until you begin to have to stretch to reach certain places.
As you stretch your left arm out to cleanse your leg, you tense and let out a sharp, pained hiss, dropping the cloth and clutching your injured arm to your chest with the pain ringing through you.
The sound of your guardian’s voice cuts through the silence as a knife.
“Will you let me help you?” he asks, his voice soft, and low.
You stare at his broad, turned back for a moment, caught off guard by his question.
You take a moment to contemplate your answer, still clutching your aching arm to your chest.
The question leaves you feeling vulnerable, and vulnerable is not something you are easily willing to be anymore.
However, there’s something soft in the way he says it.
Will you let me?
It implies the help was always there, waiting, and it relieves you of the humiliating task of asking for it.
Then, the tremoring memory of your Master’s voice cuts through your mind with a pertinent reminder.
Let go of your past, girl.
The past is not your reality.
What was is gone.
Finally, you relent. You wish for nothing more than to feel clean, to absolve yourself of the day’s sins; and if this was how you achieved it, then so be it.
“Fine.” you accept coldly, inevitably steeling your nerves against the possibility of a negative outcome. “You may help.”
The man lets out a small huff, before becoming entirely silent and still once more. Watching in quiet curiosity, you observe the soaked cloth as it begins to levitate out of the water, ringing itself out.
You flinch slightly at the sharp sound of the droplets hitting the surface of the water, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, your eyes switching between the cloth and the man in the corner.
He stands still, his hands folded resolutely behind his back, his head hanging and eyes shut.
“I’m going to begin now. Alright?” he asks, his voice quiet.
“A-Alright.” you mimic back to him, your voice trembling. You curse yourself for being so easily shaken by something that shouldn’t be such a big ordeal.
The washcloth connects with the skin of your right leg which you struggled to reach, and it takes everything in your being not to flinch. Even with indirect contact, you feel his electrifying energy equally as intensely.
The cloth slides slowly over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He cleanses your lower legs and lower parts of your thighs thoroughly and gently, careful to avoid any sensitive areas. As you become accustomed to the sensation, you relax marginally.
The cloth slides up your leg, traveling over the curve of your hip and pausing at the side of your abdomen just before your ribs.
Your guardian peers over his shoulder, however his eyes remain shut, keeping his promise. Realizing he is once again asking your permission, you lean back in the tub and allow him to continue.
Your cheeks heat as the cloth slides sensuously over the tender flesh of your ribs, over the soft skin just beneath your breasts. It sends a shiver down your spine, the mixed sensations of the soft cloth, the warm water, his radiant energy.
Letting out a tempered sigh, you finally allow yourself to relax, laying your head back and letting yourself enjoy the simple pleasure of having someone doting on you. Each swirl of the warm cloth against your skin serves to relax you more and more, until everything else melts away but the pleasant sensations and the sound of your own breathing.
Eventually, the cloth slides softly up the valley in the middle of your chest, gliding up over your collar bone, and you flush as it stops abruptly.
Your heart thumps against your ribcage, waiting for your guardian to ask to continue.
But the question never comes.
You almost wish it did.
Feeling a vague sense of disappointment, you finish up the job yourself before allowing the tub to drain. You carefully raise yourself up out of the tub and slip on a towel, your guardian still silently awaiting any signs of distress. You clear your throat awkwardly, and he peers over his shoulder, his eyes open this time.
“Finished?” he asks, a soft smile on his lips.
“Quite.” you answer quietly, exiting the washroom with your mysterious suitor following close behind.
You slip into an exceptionally comfortable looking set of red silken sleep robes, only allowing your towel to drop once your valuables are covered. The energy in the room is slightly tense as you slip into your bed, your guardian seating himself in the plush armchair that sits against the wall across from your bed.
It's still so strange. Everything is. It’s too much to think about.
His strangling presence doesn’t leave you the room to question the reality of him being here, your only option is to accept it.
The day in its entirety has been too much too quickly, and all you want to do now is slip into escapism.
So, you pick up one of the ancient tomes of knowledge from your bedside table, tucking into and becoming lost in tales of the Sith.
Your midnight guardian watches all the while, and eventually the tense silence settles into something more comfortable.
After a while, you finally lose the fight with sleep, the ancient omnibus still in your relaxed hand. Darth Vader still watches from his seat, silently observing the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathe, the gentle fluttering of your beauteous lashes as you dream.
All the while, he feels the foreign beating of his own heart.
He is pleased with himself. You recognized him alright, but silly girl, you still didn’t know.
Although he had not planned on becoming your night watchman, he would do anything to unravel the mystery coiled up and hidden within you, anything to keep you safe.
And he refused to back down now.
Rising from his seat, he carefully takes the book from your fingertips, placing it on your bedside table. He pulls the covers over you, taking a moment just to look upon you, his chest tightening in a way that he tries to ignore before resuming his position.
Bare feet padding quietly through the misty, lush green forest that surrounds you, rain-soaked leaves squish softly beneath them. There is a dense fog that flows between the trees, sticking to your skin and clinging to your clothes.
It is almost peaceful, with the sounds of nature surrounding you and the gentle breeze blowing through your hair, but you can sense a presence hidden deep within the forest of this dreamland that leaves you on edge.
You walk for what seems like hours, twisting and turning deeper and deeper into the seemingly endless expanse of trees. You look over your shoulder every now and then, expecting an attack that never comes.
All the while, you can hear the subtle, unmistakable sibilance of Lord Vader’s breathing through the trees, somewhere off in the distance. Like a moth to a flame you follow it, but no matter how long or how far you walk, you are never able to reach him.
The next morning, you stretch and rub your eyes before a sharp pain brings all the memories flooding back. You carefully sit up, using your uninjured arm to prop yourself up. You look around the room, illuminated by the rays of a passing sun, and you are surprised to find it empty.
Without the grand, thunderous energy of your mysterious guardian filling it, the room feels almost too empty, too quiet.
You give a gentle sigh, sliding out of bed. You walk a bit more stiffly today, small aches here and there littering your body. Slipping out of your sleepwear, you toss them into the laundry chute located on the wall by the washroom door.
You pace over to your vanity mirror, eyes immediately falling upon the wide, deep bruise painted upon the greater portion of your chest and upper arm. Hesitantly, you slip cautious fingers beneath the gauzy bandages interwoven between your chest and upper arm, taking your first peek at your injury.
Hissing as the bandage peels away from the skin, you wince at the sight of the angry, red skin of the burn, and you hate to imagine the kind of scar it will leave.
You replace your bandaging, dressing yourself in loose, flowing robes in an effort to maximize your comfort. The most you do to your hair is comb through it and fix any stray pieces, unwilling to put any more effort into it.
It is then that a familiar rapping sounds at your chamber door, and for the first time today your spirits are lifted.
“Come in!” you call out, and your droid friend enters.
“Good morning, Madam! Are you feeling alright this morning?” The kind service droid greets you.
You shrug and nod, smiling lightly at the droid.
“As alright as one can after being shot, I suppose.” you answer, a hint of playful sarcasm in your tone.
“That will have to do, I suppose. Are you ready for your breakfast, Milady?” the droid asks, and you nod, seating yourself at your table. The droid nods its acknowledgement, serving you a meal consisting of brightly coloured exotic berries and fruits, buttered toasts, and sweet, tangy yogurts.
You eat slowly, savoring every bite and taking your time to replenish yourself.
To your surprise, your droid friend has no announcements, no agenda for you today.
“Lord Vader has ordered you to take the day to do as you please, Milady.” the droid explains. “To rest, he said.”
“Does Lord Vader have any obligations today?” you ask, quirking up a surprised eyebrow.
“None, Milady.” the droid replies.
You shrug idly, standing from your place at the table.
“Then I shall join him.” you state, and the droid nods, seeming vaguely surprised with you.
“As you wish, Madam.” the droid affirms.
Injured or not, spending the entire day languishing in your chamber would bore you to death.
The droid dutifully leads you to Lord Vader’s private quarters, entering the combination into the keypad and giving you a respectful bow in parting. You nod a goodbye back to your companion before entering, and it dawns on you as you cross the threshold that you are not afraid.
Of course, goosebumps still frost over the back of your neck as you approach, but the churning dread you’ve felt every other time has washed away.
As if you had been testing the frigid waters of Vader’s aura, and you had finally become acclimated to the bone-chilling temperature.
Entering the room fully, your eyes immediately land upon your Master. He is seated at his work desk, his dark cloak draping over the backrest of his chair. His massive form is leaned over, and as you approach you can see that he is toiling over the machinery of his right hand. You take the sight in for a moment, having had no idea that his hand was cybernetic in the first place.
“Morning, my pet.” he says, acknowledging your presence without ever looking at you.
The new term of endearment isn’t lost on you, your cheeks heating ever so lightly, although you do not acknowledge it.
“Morning, my Lord.” you reply, watching as he fumbles with one large hand to try and repair the other. His glove is limiting his dexterity, and you can’t imagine that the visibility through the visor of the helmet is helping. Feeling his frustrations rippling around him, you pull up a chair, sitting next to him and earning a curious glower.
“May I try?” you offer, and that gets his attention. He gives you an appraising look for a moment, before setting his tool down and laying his thick arm upon the table, the sleek biomechanics of his palm facing up.
You take his large hand in yours, inspecting it closely as Vader tenses ever so slightly. You examine the mechanisms of his hand, marveling at the advanced technology. It is cool to the touch, shining beneath the white lighting.
Despite it obviously being some of the Empire’s most advanced machinery, you believe you can see the problem.
Vader watches you intently the entire time, his gaze burning through you, his body unmoving.
Using a delicate hand, you adjust a couple sensors and tighten a few connections as your heart flutters in your chest under his close observation, the feeling of holding his hand in yours making your fingertips buzz like static.
“Where did you learn such skills?” The Sith Lord asks, a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice.
“If someone with my background wants to survive, they must learn to be proficient at many jobs, my Lord.” you answer honestly with a soft smile, securing the protective covering back over your Master’s prosthesis. He says nothing in response, flexing and clenching his fingers, watching them with silent approval.
You can sense that he is pleased with your work, and you feel moderately proud of yourself.
Vader takes a long look at you, pulling his thick glove back over his hand, the leather giving a quiet squeal as it stretches, the expression of his helmet as unmoving and stern as it ever is.
The more time you spend with him, the more you learn to rely on reading his body language to decode his thoughts and emotional state. Like right now, the way he sits silently next to you, his breathing quieted. The way he keeps stretching his fingers out and clenching them again. You had gained a bit of his interest, perhaps even surprised him.
It’s his turn to surprise you then as he stands abruptly, his cloak swishing behind him and brushing over your legs with a cool gust of air.
“Come.” Lord Vader commands. “There is something I want to show you.”
You blink at him for a second, before rising and obediently following your Master.
He leads you out of his quarters and into an adjacent room in the corridor.
It’s capacious, dimly lit, and almost entirely empty save for a huge apparatus across the room the likes of which you’ve never seen. It is rounded at the top and bottom, like a great dragon’s egg, cracked and held open on either end.
You come to understand that it is some sort of chamber, meant to entirely enclose somebody within. Claustrophobia hits your gut with a torrent of nausea at the thought, and you jolt slightly at the feeling of a wide hand on the small of your back.
“Fear not, pet. I will not force you to go in there today.” Lord Vader says, his tone almost teasing as he reassures you. You can feel your cheeks heating up, a rush of relief washing over you as he ushers you to sit.
Brows pinching in confusion, you watch as Lord Vader strides a few feet away, sitting on the slick, shining tile and facing you.
You are really at a loss this time, there is no guessing what your Master has planned and you are becoming tired of constantly asking why or how, a dull acceptance beginning to settle in your bones.
“I would like you to try something for me.” He explains, and your throat bobs in anticipation of what your Master will say next.
“As you wish, Master.” you respond, knowing there is no other choice but compliance. At the same time, you can feel yourself becoming more resigned to Lord Vader’s will, more trusting of the things he has planned for you.
A dangerous game it is, making the devil your most trusted friend.
“You are going to meditate. Try to connect to the Force.” Lord Vader commands, his dark voice echoing all around the sparsely decorated room. His words only serve to confuse you further, cocking your head as you respond.
“But I cannot use the Force, my Lord.” you say as if reminding him. “I do not know how.” If you were quite honest, you had no idea that using the Force was even an option for someone like you, and the idea takes you aback.
“Perhaps that is what you think. But I will show you the way.” He replies, and you blush ever so slightly.
Your mind is in a frenzy for a moment as you process the implications of this.
That it was possible for you to learn the ways of the Force.
That with the Force, came the promise of power.
You feel as if the two of you are opening the doorway to everything you’ve been hunting for your entire life.
Lord Vader watches you closely, feeling a measure of satisfaction as he watches your body tense and your eyes widen, as he feels the grasping, desperate energy simmering within you.
He is throwing you the bait, all you must do is take it.
He needs to know if you are as powerful as he suspects, needs to unravel the mystery tangled up within you, to find the source of the invisible threads of fate that bound him to you.
If he is correct about you… you may be the long awaited key to unlocking the peace and freedom he has spent his entire life attempting to actualize, and he feels an irksome twinge of hope at the idea.
“Close your eyes.” Lord Vader commands.
Looking at your Master with a curious eye, you oblige his demands. You slip your eyes shut, taking in a deep breath through your nose and relaxing your shoulders.
“Good.” Vader praises you. “Now breathe.”
Shifting slightly, you take in a deep breath and let it out at a measured pace.
“Feel the air rushing into your lungs, the oxygen flowing through your body.” Lord Vader instructs, and you obey. You feel the air as it fills your lungs, the emptiness as it leaves them. You feel the steady beating of your heart, the interconnectedness of your entire being as it works. As you focus, your body becomes more relaxed, your hands resting palm side up over your crossed knees.
“Can you feel it?” your Master asks, the sibilance of his voice and his breathing and the electrical hum of the chamber serving as exquisite white noise. “The energy that passes through you, that surrounds you?” he asks.
Relaxing into the buzzing energy that soaks into you, that moves through your very veins as your own flesh and blood, you give a slow affirmative nod.
“Good…young one.” He says, and it’s becoming harder to focus on him.
“Reach out into it.” Lord Vader coaches you. “Open your mind.”
Breathing deeply, your lips part slightly as you focus upon the effervescent energy that fills the room, swirling around the two of you and moving through you. Fingertips tingling, you let go of your skepticism. You breathe deeply, slowly, feeling the clouds in your mind clearing. It feels as though a great weight is lifted from your shoulders, and you begin to envision a door within your mind, misty shadows swirling out from the gap beneath the door.
“Open it.” Vader says, his unmistakable voice sounding a million miles away.
You reach out to the metaphysical door, the handle cold against your palm as you turn it.
All the while, Lord Vader watches with bated breath.
Opening the door within your mind, you feel the lurch in your gut as you fall off the precipice. The air is nearly taken from you as a torrential downpour of the energy floods in, tumbling and plummeting in your mind's eye; your entire body erupting in frigid goosebumps. Suddenly, it feels like your whole being has been flipped on its axis, the swaying sensation nearly sickening.
Still you push through it, exploring through the ephemeral, glowing energy of the spiritual plane. You see yourself standing in an endless line of versions of yourself, stretching as far as the eye can see in either direction.
Heart thumping with trepidation, you outstretch a hand to the turned back of yourself, fingertips nearly burning. Before your fingertips can connect with the soft fabric of your own robes, you’re plunged back into the depths, dragged under the waves within your mind.
You sink into the icy waters, feeling as it carries you deeper, the waves cradling you.
When you fall through the treacherous ocean to the other side, you’re presented with the chilling image of yourself in chains. She is thin and exhausted, dark circles under her eyes and her skin rubbed raw where she is bound to the floor by wrought iron. Chills running through your bones and your blood running cold, you watch in horror as you are ripped apart. You watch yourself torn apart in agonizingly lurid detail, rooted to the floor, you can feel a fine sheen of sweat forming upon your worried brow.
All the while, the sharp frisson of the Force surges within and around you in tidal waves. Stunned, you watch an alluring, monstrous version of yourself materialize from the inky depths of the ether. She reaches with shadow-stained fingertips to gather the pieces of herself, a blithe expression painted over her features. She carefully fits the pieces of herself back together, soldering her very soul back together with gold.
When she is finished, and the ruined version of herself glows with her golden cracks, she tenderly gathers her in her arms. She holds the broken girl until she melts into her touch, and they meld together to become one.
She turns to look at you, and goosebumps ice over your skin as you see that her eyes are gleaming yellow fire as they fall upon you. You watch with a haunted expression as she reaches out a hand to you, your heart beating at a dizzying pace.
Come back to me.
You hear the echoing whisper all around you, though her lips do not move.
Come back to me.
The void calls again.
Cautiously, you reach out your hand, your eyes locked upon your own reflected back at you in a glowing inferno. A blissful smile slides across her lips as you brush your fingertips, the sensation like that of touching a livewire.
In an instant as you make contact, you’re shocked by both the buzzing in your fingertips and the feeling of being plunged back into the icy waves of the Force.
The current is tumultuous, untamed, washing over you and dragging you under. As the chill seeps through you and you sputter and choke, the echo comes again.
Come back.
Come to me.
It whispers, the energy swirling warmly around you and enveloping you in its grace, pulling you back to the surface of the waves.
Come back.
It whispers a last time, and as you settle back into your body, the sounds of the room fade back in. The humming of the dim lights, of the electronics, the steady thrum of your own heartbeat. The hissing ebb and flow of Vader’s breathing, close to your ear.
“Come back to me, pet.” he whispers, his modulated voice uncharacteristically gentle as he coaches you. The feeling of your own body comes back in, and you can feel the heavy sensation of your Master’s strong arms wrapped over your shoulders. You realize he has pulled you into his arms, kneeling behind you, his head dipped toward your ear, pulling you back to earth.
It almost feels… nice.
Opening your eyes, your nerves tense and your heart flutters as you turn to look at Lord Vader.
“You have done well, young one.” he says, his deep voice reverberating through you. His arms that drape over you are warm, and strong, grounding you within your own body.
For that, you are thankful.
Your mind and body swim from your breakthrough, your eyes and limbs heavy and your synapses fried from the effort. There’s so much more you can sense, so much more that you are acutely aware of, and it’s an attack on your senses.
Sensing this, Lord Vader gathers you in his arms and stands with you.
“There is so much potential in you, (Y/N).” he says quietly, almost as if he is only saying it for himself to hear.
Your energy is so spent, your body so tired, and as Lord Vader carries you back into his chamber, something dawns upon you.
For the first time, being in your Master’s arms, being so close, it feels safe.
A dark shadow of warmth radiates off of him, and it feels as if you are exactly where you are supposed to be.
For the first time, you let your walls down, even if just for a little while.
You relax into his strong arms, letting him shoulder the weight of your exhaustion. Leaning your face into the sleek, cool armor of his chestplate, you breathe in his scent and let the steady sound of his breathing wash everything else away.
Entering his private chamber with the door sliding shut behind him, Lord Vader paces to one of the long white couches against the wall and carefully lays you down.
He stands over you, a newfound sense of his darkly possessive energy running through you.
“You have made me proud, my pet.” he tells you, brushing a lock of hair away from your face and setting your body alight with the gesture.
“Rest now, there is much to plan.”
Credz: lightsaber graphic credit @saradika
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if i built a raft, will you stay with me then?
WARNINGS: mention of reader having hair long enough to catch and yank | hair pulling | angst no comfort | mild violence | psychological warfare | vader!anakin.
Dark, warm, and comfortable. Your sleeping body tucked within itself, rising and falling so peacefully. ANAKIN SKYWALKER had crept inside the room, crawled to lay alongside you, but that was ages ago. No sleep is in his eyes, only a blue fire in his chest, dulled by your flowery scent.
Not even the Pillars of Creation could be as beautiful as you, he thinks. Inclining towards you, soaking up your sunlight, your presence feeds him. As quiet as a field mouse, he dare not disturb you, lest the hawk hear and snatch you up. Separating you from him.
To separate… to be separate. Apart. Has he done that himself? Is he the hawk? A question that begs for reconsideration, tearing at the walls of his mind as you thrash in his grip.
“You monster! You insane, hopeless, crazy monster!” you cry, your halting words faltering into delicacy with each passing syllable. Your once sugar-sweet voice, that serenaded him into complacency, is now a grating, desperate scream. It feathers out as the acceptance of your fate seals itself unwillingly, choking back sobs.
His outstretched hand encloses into a fist, one finger at a time. The shuttle you’d prepared for your escape, dents within itself.
“No! Stop!” you plea, and you dive for it. As if you could shield it with your body. His grasp on you is unforgiving, and to discipline you for your attempt, he uses your momentum against you. Digits twisting into your flowing hair, yanking you back to him as you yelp, and you land against his chest, disoriented; the burn in your scalp pacifies you briefly. The metal creaks in pain, its execution interrupted. Anakin stoops, catching you and swiftly fixing you over his shoulder. The impact of his shoulder against your gut expels a grunt from your lips, but you recover yourself. Unable to conjure any other plan, you aimlessly writhe. Pinned, his thick arm fastens around your thighs, and he ignores your hollow strikes at his lower back.
Undeterred, his newfound anger only aids him in completing his endeavor, your ship collapsing entirely, crushed under the weight of Anakin’s immense Force pressure. As if it is as thin as an aluminum can. Fat, hot tears well up at the sound of your last hope extinguishing like a candle’s flame in the rain. Defeated, the heels of your hands dig into your eyes, squeezing out sparkling tears, pitted-pattering onto the floor below. Your sob intensifies as you listen helplessly to the shuttle howling against the deck, screeching while Anakin marches forward, tipping its weight over the edge of the platform. Uncontrollably sniffling, unable to catch your breath, you’re wracked with despair, and you flinch at the crash caused by his misdeeds.
Your escape, destroyed. The surge of overwhelming emotion spills out of you in sobs, as Anakin returns to his base, with you in hand, retreating from the fiery inferno that was once your transport.
Is he the hawk? he shakes the thought away.
#indy: drabbles#au: knightfall!anakin#ch: anakin#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin skywalker fanfic#anakin skywalker angst#angst no comfort#anakin skywalker writing#star wars angst#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker x reader angst#anakin x you#reader insert#anakin skywalker x you#anakin skywalker x gn!reader#anakin skywalker x gn!reader angst#x gn y/n#sith!anakin#vader!anakin skywalker#vader!anakin#unburnt!vader#darth vader fanfiction#darth vader imagine#order 66 angst
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if you were married to vader he would call you 'my beauty'
#natspeaks#⋆vader⋆#darth vader#anakin skywalker#darth vader x reader#does not matter if he was burnt/unburnt#he would call you it regardless
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F O R Y O U - 2
Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!reader (Later will turn into Unburnt Vader x rebel! reader)
Full series
Previous chapter - 1
Warnings (For the whole series): noncon, dubcon, dom/sub dynamics (basically filth)
Warnings (for this chapter): Anakin being controlling and really intense.

No one knew what had shifted in Anakin Skywalker, but something had. He had gotten...bigger, more muscular. His eyes had gotten serious, and when he smiled, no genuineness flickered in it.
Perhaps some of them could have sensed Anakin's change in the Force, but Anakin was too good at hiding it. He was a master at the Force; he could use it and wield it as well as he could his lightsaber.
The only one who sensed something was wrong was Obi-Wan, but his old padawan would not let even a flicker of whatever he was hiding show. Obi-Wan felt relief when he found out that Anakin had finally taken a Padawan. He took that as a sign that Anakin was finally okay.
If only he had looked deeper, he would have seen the obsessed look in Anakin's eyes whenever he looked at you. The sheer possessiveness, the hunger, the desire to possess your very fucking soul.
You didn't notice it either. You were terrified of him, he was a quiet, giant, ridiculously skilled man who had somehow agreed to become your master.
You went for training, and while you trained, you followed the orders he gave in his deep voice and as he circled you, his arms folded against his chest, and his eyes firmly on every move you made. You felt exposed. Naked. Like he could see everything.
You made too many mistakes, and he shook his head everytime you said sorry. He pushed you till your arms were aching and the lightsaber was trembling in your hands. He gently took the lightsaber away with his giant hand, and set it in his pocket.
"You'll have it back when you can handle it, little one."
"What? But how am I to train without it?"
He lowered his head till he was looking right into your eyes. "How younglings do, with a wooden stick."
"But-"
"No," he said, softly, dangerously. You almost jerked away. "You say 'Yes, master.' You're my padawan, and I know what is best for you. Now, what do you say, little one?"
Why was there so much danger in a Jedi Knight's voice? You felt like you could suffocate on the tension.
You opened your trembling lips, keeping your eyes anywhere away from him, and whispered, "Y-Yes, Master."
His large, prosthetic hand raised, and he cupped the side of your face gently. "That's a good girl. Let's go for lunch now, yes?"
You had no choice but to nod.
. . .
He did not give you your lightsaber back. You were grateful that he always trained you in his private training room, otherwise anyone finding out that your master had taken away your lightsaber would have been humiliating.
The next day, he gave you the wooden stick he wanted you to use. You looked up at him, wanting to say something, to ask to at least have your lightsaber even if he wasn't going to let you use it.
But just looking at his blue eyes that had a tinge of yellow in them, you couldn't speak. His presence was too much, it filled the room. You were hyperaware of where he stood, how he moved, as if a prey in a standoff with its predator.
"Now, that was better, wasn't it?" He said after the training, his voice holding that same gentleness that was lined with the danger that made goosebumps rise on your arms. "Keep being good, and I will give you your lightsaber back. You'll be good, won't you?" Prosthetic hand raised, and tipped up your head. You avoided his eyes and nodded.
"Words, padawan."
"Y-" It was too hard to speak. Maker, why had you asked him to train you? "Yes, m-master-"
"Good girl." His hand cupped the side of your face, and the thumb brushed your undereye as he looked deep into your eyes. "You know I can sense how nervous I make you, right?"
"I-I know-"
He smirked, fingers curling slightly, cupping your cheek. "Why are you scared of me, little one? Have I hurt you, hm?"
"No...no, master."
"Then why?" He asked, gently, darkly, and he stepped closer. You took a step back. His head titled, and before you knew it, you were backed up again the wall, his hand still cupping your face.
You were breathing heavily and your heart seemed to make your whole body shake.
He leaned closer. "Acting like a little girl when you're a Jedi padawan, hm? Such a shame. I have a lot to teach you, little one. It's a good thing I am your master now, isn't it?" A pause. "I said isn't it?"
"Y-Yes-" you choked out, lips trembling. "Yes, m-master."
He let go of your face. "Run along now. I'll see you tomorrow."
. . .
He kept cornering you after that. At every chance he got. He would back you up against a wall with just one hand cupping the side of your face. Sometimes he'd explain something related to the training like that, other times he would ask questions ("What time did you wake up, little one, hm? You were late." Or "Where is your mind, my padawan. You're making so many silly mistakes.").
But other times (and these times had you terrified), he would back you up against the wall and just stare.
He'd keep your face cupped, and he would stare deep into your eyes and then drag his eyes all over your body, accessing everything. He'd keep that hand against your cheek, and if you tried to speak, he'd shake his head once. You did not know why he did this. All you knew was that it terrified you and left you shaking for the rest of the day.
After one particularly hard training where you made too many mistakes, he shook his head. "Little one, I swear..." He sighed and stepped closer. You instantly inched towards the door. You did not want to get cornered again.
The side of his lips twisted up in a smirk. "Running, are we?"
Your hand grabbed the knob. "I-I will see you a-at lunch, master."
The smirk did not disappear. "It my little Padawan going to run away from me, hm? I don't think I have done anything that warrants this treatment. You make me feel like a monster."
"N-no, I don't mean it that w-"
"I will meet you for dinner," he said. "I'll come to your room to picky you up. Be good, hm?"
You ran out of the training room.
. . .
Anakin could not take it anymore. Just being near you wasn't enough. He had to take you. And he would.
So, instead of knocking at your bedroom door, he opened it using Force.
"M-master?" Your little spooked voice made his cock hard.
"Yes, little one," he answered calmly, slamming the door shut. "I'm here to teach you a few things."
#anakin skywalker#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin smut#anakin x reader#darth vader#darth vader smut#star wars anakin#unburnt vader#yandere smut#tw noncon#dead dove do not eat#star wars smut#star wars
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THE UNDOING OF DARKNESS



anakin skywalker/darth vader x f!reader word count: 6k warnings: darth vader, a depiction of murder, angst, smut, p in x sex (unprotected), inappropriate usage of the force, did i mention angst, anakin is also unburnt for the sake of this fic synopsis: sometimes she believes anakin skywalker still exists. darth vader will say that he is no more but she does not truly believe he is gone. after all, anakin once told her that even in death, he would claw his way out of the very earth to find her.
read on ao3
Every breath feels like the rarest air in Fortress Vader. Not only is it stuffy, and the simplest of movements makes you break out into a sweat, but it has always felt more like a prison than a home. She’s tried to think of it as one, as it is the place where she spends most, if not all, of her days. It is hard, however, when all she can see is gray, orange, and red for as far as the eye can see. It is hard when she knows there is always the possibility that he is there, watching, scrutinizing, waiting.
He, the man she once held in such high regard, the man she never thought she would have, the man that always seemed so impossible and out of reach, the man she never thought would have given her a chance. Maybe he wouldn’t have, she thinks when she has nothing to do but sit by the sliver in the wall of the throne room that serves as a window, looking out into the fiery oceans of Mustafar, if he hadn't changed.
She knew the man who he once was. She knew the man before the days of apparatus, before the days of the Empire, before the days of darkness. She thinks she must be the only one left who knew Lord Vader as well as she. Yes, she knew the man Lord Vader had been, before the days of dictatorship, before the fear of existing, because existing, in these days, was fear in itself.
She thinks she must be one of the only ones left who knew of Anakin Skywalker. Sometimes, when she sees Lord Vader in the way she and only she sees him, she thinks she can see Anakin again, slipping through the cracks. Sometimes, she believes Anakin must still be here, somewhere, if even a fragment of him. Sometimes she will look into his eyes— the fiery pools they were now— and swear she will see a glimmer, a mirage of that cerulean ocean she once knew, slipping through the cracks of his inferno.
If Anakin Skywalker did still exist, however, Lord Vader made sure he never came to be. If Anakin Skywalker still existed, then he was simply locked away deep inside the cage that had been built around the new Lord Vader’s heart. She isn’t sure if it is possible to break through the iron bars— and frankly, she’s become too frightened to even want to continue trying. She feels guilty, like she has some sense of responsibility, of duty to the lost Anakin Skywalker, as she is the only one that Lord Vader allows so close, the only one who may see him in a state as vulnerable as he will allow her to see him.
She wonders sometimes if Anakin Skywalker cries out for her, much like the way she did when she was taken, plucked like a rose from her village in the outskirts of Galidraan. When she closes her eyes, she can still remember that day, the harsh cold on her skin, the painful inferno inside her chest, the binds used to restrain her hands behind her back.
“No!” She can still feel her scream ripping from her throat, the acidic, rumbling feeling in her chest as she watches the red plasmic blade of the dark figure slice clean through her uncle’s neck, and can still see the shape of his head tumble into the white snow through her watery vision. Although she knows she is merely looking into the past, the pain feels too real, like she is reliving her worst day again.
She lunges forward, like she intends to avenge her uncle, a foolish spur of the moment instinct, as she is bound by the wrists and with a blaster to the back of her head. The stormtrooper behind her knocks the butt of his blaster into the back of her skull and her head rings while her cheek finds the snow. She hears her cousins and her people cry behind her and when she pries a single eyelid open, she can make out their trembling silhouettes, on their knees, shoulder to shoulder, a wall of stormtroopers behind them.
The ringing begins to dull and she hears footsteps somewhere behind her. She cannot bring herself to move, as she is stunned with the realization that today would be their final day. All these people she’s grown up with, her family she swore she would protect— they would meet their ends today. She would never see her off-planet friends again— she would never see Anakin Skywalker again. That promise he made her that he would see her again feels empty now. She almost wonders if she was a fool to put so much faith in him and his Jedi friends to begin with, if she was a fool to think he’d want her, someone as simple and as plain as her.
But all the same, he said they would come should trouble find her beloved planet— so where was he now? She believes he cannot be dead, purged along with many of the other of his kind. She knows he is out there, somewhere. Everyday, she thinks he will come poking his head out from the snowy horizon. Everyday, she waits for that moment to come. She feels the bitter cold seeping into her bones now and thinks how foolish she’s been for believing in such a thing.
“The prisoner dares the thought of standing against me,” she hears a voice, deep and undoubtedly male behind her and feels a quivering somewhere inside her chest. The bile that’s been resting at the base of her throat threatens to rise when two stormtroopers step forward, likely from this dark figure’s command, and wraps their hands under her armpits, hoisting her from the ground. She presses her lips together to quell her sick as the world spins and all she can see is black and white.
The figure is tall and broad, much more so now that she was so close to him. She has to look up at him and she tries to blink away the blurriness from her vision, and when it does, she can make out the face of his mask. She glowers into the two black circles of his eyes, trying to keep her gaze locked on him rather than on the limp body of her uncle.
“You cannot do this,” she says, her voice shaky with uncertainty but feigning determination all the same. “You cannot take us. You cannot kill us. Ana…” she pauses and somewhere in her delirious mind she thinks perhaps she shouldn’t say his name, shouldn’t put yet another target on his back. But her brain tells her these will be her final moments and all she can really think of now is Anakin and of his promise she still tried to cling onto, even now when it was quite literally impossible for it to be fulfilled now. “Anakin will come for us. You cannot kill us.”
A silence ensues and the masked man’s shoulders rise and she thinks she must have caught him by surprise. Perhaps he already knows of Anakin Skywalker, perhaps he merely wonders why a girl as plain and unimportant as she knows of a Jedi Knight when they’ve all been purged, seemingly from his hand, or at least, his command.
His black capes flows in the snowy wind and she trembles, more from knowing his stare behind that mask is devouring her rather than the cold.
“You speak in tongues,” he says at last, stepping forward, closer until all she sees is black, an endless void with two circles and a triangle for a face. “I can and I will take whatever I want, foolish girl. I will do what I please.”
He straightens and with a black, gloved hand, points towards her people, her family. “Kill them,” he says simply and panic blinds her, taking control of her limbs.
“No. No!” She screeches into the howling wind, thrashing against the hold of the two stormtroopers behind her as she hears blaster shot after blaster shot and the sound of bodies falling into the snow. “Anakin! Anakin, please! Help me! Help us!” She screams again, sounding more like a fool than she ever has but she’s desperate as she tries to lift herself from the ground, kicking out towards the dark, wicked man before her.
All five fingers of the same hand the man used to damn her family to their deaths outstretches and it is like her body, her limbs are no longer her own. They freeze in place and no matter how hard she tries to will them to move, to will her arms to thrash about against their restraints and her legs to kick, they will not. Her heart pounds against her chest and it rises and falls with her shaky breaths as she is forced to stare at the man who has taken her entire world away in a matter of seconds. He steps forward again, looms like a dark cloud with the promise of downpour over her and she has no choice but to stare back, her brows knit together, the promise of tears stinging her eyes.
“The man you speak of ceased to exist long ago,” he speaks and she doesn’t quite want to believe him. Although, for a reason she cannot quite define now, she thinks he must be telling the truth, or at least, some version of the truth. “It’d do you well to rid your mind of these foolish beliefs. You shall not be saved. Your life rests in the palms of my hands, and I will do with it what I please.”
Still, she cannot move, all she can do is silently cry, waiting for this man, this awful, wicked, yet somewhat familiar man to damn her to whatever fate he had in store for her.
“You will come with me. You will live in my fortress. You will be what I want you to be. This is a mercy, but do not consider yourself saved. Your life will still be mine to own, and it will be mine to end, should I desire it.”
She opens her eyes and finds herself back in Mustafar again, staring out at the same fiery ocean she sees every other day. The pain and the memory of that day is still fresh, but she still cannot shake what she feels of Anakin— or rather, Lord Vader— even knowing what he is, what he is capable of. She hates herself for being so easy, for still wanting to believe that her Anakin is still there and that what she has with the new Lord Vader is love, a twisted, altered version of what her life might have been like with Anakin, should circumstances be different.
There are footsteps thrumming through the hall beyond the door of the throne room and time seems to still, her heart thudding against her chest as she waits for the door to slide open. When it does, he walks in, rolling like a dark fog into the room and despite the intense heat of Mustafar, she shivers, an icy chill seeping into the marrow of her bones.
She simply sits and stares as he stops in the middle of the throne room, her fingers wrapped around the fabric of her gown, chest heaving up and down, waiting for him to address her. She hates this— living in constant fear whilst simultaneously wanting him, wanting the man he used to be, Anakin, back.
Another few seconds of silence.
And then.
“Come here,” he finally speaks and his voice sounds not his own, a different man entirely. She blinks, swinging her legs over the ledge of her seat at the window, complying without a question. Sometimes she hated how easy she gave in to him, but even if she didn’t act of her own free will, she knew she wouldn’t have much of a choice anyways. Still, she hates how quickly she draws nearer, only stopping when she stands before him, looking up into his mask.
She purses her lips. She hates this mask. It reminds her of that day. It is the mask of a killer, rather than the face of a man.
She inhales, feeling air draw into her chest. Then, “will you let me see you?”
Another moment of silence, save, of course, for the sound of his breathing through the apparatus. His shoulders rise and fall with his breath and she thinks it must have been a bad day. She internally shudders— tonight could go only one of two ways.
She feels a sense of relief, however, when his hands rise to the sides of his helmet, air hissing when he presses his fingers down on either side of the durasteel. Time stops altogether when he inches the helmet away from his head. Full, pink lips unveil behind the mask, a few ridged, faintly red scars like the jagged edges of broken earth spread across his cheeks, up to his strong nose and sharp, red eyes. Dark blonde curls spill over his face and her breath hitches because this is Anakin, but also not and she hates that she still feels something when she sees him, still wants him, and although it pains her to admit it— she still loves him.
She blinks up at him, unable to look away and he stares back, lips pressed together, fiery gaze devouring. Yes, it must have been a bad day, because although his gaze is usually unyielding, it is more intense than usual today. It pierces through her, as if he is sifting through her mind, and knowing what he is capable of, he may very well be.
It’s reminiscent of the way he used to look at her, back when he was still Anakin. Her Anakin. Her blue-eyed, kind, resilient Anakin.
He looked different then, no scars, save for the one on his eye, on his face. His eyes didn’t feel like drowning in a sea of flames, rather, they were oceans of warm cerulean, drawing her in with their kind gaze. She can still feel the rush of secret rendezvous in dark corners of rooms, where no one was watching, away from prying eyes and hushed whispers.
She can feel his hands— one warm, one deliciously cool to the touch— resting on either of her cheeks, her own hands wrapped around his elbows. She can still feel his lips against hers then, warm and slow but firm, dominant but soft, gentle. Anakin kissed her like she was a remedy, delicate and precious. Sometimes he still kissed her like this— warm, slow, firm, dominant, gentle. Sometimes it was almost enough to make her feel how she did then— delicate, precious, a remedy.
But nothing could amount to the way Anakin looked at her then, with vast blue eyes so inviting, so kind, and so him that she thought she would die if he ceased to look at her like that. This, of course, was not true. Yet, everyday she spent looking into the fiery depths that replaced his warm ocean, she thinks she feels pieces of herself, her old self, rotting.
Anakin pulled away from her lips and even though it was all those days ago, she still remembered how tenderly he brushed her hair away from her face, tucking it back behind her ear. She still remembers the pad of his thumb, the one with flesh instead of metal, smoothing circles into her cheekbones. She watches as his lips move to form words and she is simply mesmerized, so enraptured by this man she can hardly breathe.
“I will be going away soon,” he told her then, his breath like the warmth of a fire against her face. Her eyelashes flutter as she looks from his lips back to his eyes, wading further into his ocean, as if she could convince him with a stare to stay, to anchor himself here, to her.
“But…” she shakes her head, tongue swiping between her lips and her hands slide from his elbows to his wrists. “…but you cannot…” she sighs frustratingly, unable to find her words. “…it is not safe for us. You cannot leave…”
“Hey,” he whispers in only the way he can, in that way that has her resolve slipping, her knees trembling, her heart stuttering. The wind whips at their hair and their clothes and snow falls behind him but he is so warm, a warm glow in the midst of the storm. She grows warm, warmer in his hands and Anakin’s gaze drops to her quivering lips, the skin of his thumb soothing over her lower one. “You are fully capable of surviving without me,” he assures in a murmur that rolls like thunder in her chest.
She shakes her head. “But we are weak!” she protests. “We are not strong enough to handle this on our own. My uncle he…” she closes her eyes, sucks in a breath, tries to ease the unsteady beating of her heart. “…he is only getting older. He isn’t well. The storm is only getting stronger, and if they come… we—“
“No,” Anakin shakes his head, steps closer, cradles either of her cheeks in the palms of his hands. “Don’t say you can’t.”
She tilts her head in his palms, unsure of his meaning. “But Anakin, if they—“
“They will not touch you,” he says and he speaks with a sense of finality, and she knows there would be no question, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. She knows that what he says is true. His hands tighten around her face and his gaze is strong, unyielding, piercing where it meets hers. He almost doesn’t seem himself, like there is some other version of him present. She isn’t sure what to think of it, but what she knows for sure is that she knows she must be safe, because Anakin says it is true. “I will not let anyone hurt you, do you understand?”
He searches her gaze, awaiting her answer. She stares back, wondering how someone like him could be speaking to her like this, touching her like this, caring for her like this. To be loved by Anakin Skywalker was like being a snowflake, falling from the heavens, making its descent to the ground— every one was unique, but its uniqueness may only be discovered by those who look close enough. Not many cared to take the time out of their day to see her, but Anakin did. Anakin saw her and held her in a way he and only he could. To be loved by Anakin Skywalker was to be seen like nobody else had seen her. To be loved by Anakin Skywalker was a rarity of its own.
She nods against his palms, her lashes fluttering as her gaze drops to his chin, to his lips.
“What is it?” He asks, lowering his head, catching her gaze in his again. She sniffs, wringing a hand around his wrist.
“What if I do not see you again?” She asks. “How long will I have to wait to have you like this again?”
It is a selfish thought, she thinks. They are in the middle of a war for Maker’s sake, and Anakin is one of the most important assets of it. It is selfish of her to want to keep him all to herself, to want to stay hidden in a permanent rendezvous, away from eyes, away from pain, away from war. The galaxy needed him, that, she knew. But she needed him too. She doesn’t know what she will do with herself, biding the time until she sees him again.
“But you will see me again,” he assures in a quiet murmur, his hands dropping from her cheeks to cup either of her hands between his. He presses his lips to one of her knuckles, then to another, and then another until they’ve all been graced by his kiss. Her knees feel like jelly and she is glad he is there to support her, because she feels like she can melt into a gooey puddle of magma at their feet despite the snow. “No matter how far, no matter the time, I will always find you. There is no place in the entire galaxy where you can be where I will not find you. We are bound to one another, you and I are. Even in death, I would claw myself out of the very earth to find you.”
She feels the bitter sting of tears pooling in her eyes, because she knows they are running out of time, and soon, he would have to take leave. She will only have these words and the memory of his touch to satiate her, until of course he keeps his word and finds her once again.
Anakin’s eyes fall back down to her lips before he collects them with his in a searing kiss, the kindling of a promise left in his mouth’s wake when he pulls away.
“We will see one another again,” he murmurs and she believes him. She knows he will keep his word. “And perhaps, we will meet even sooner than you think.”
Blue swarms and begins to morph into an angry, fiery red and she is once again back in Mustafar, staring at Anakin but not Anakin again. Sometimes when she thinks her Anakin Skywalker is truly lost, she need only remember those tender words he had said to her, the last time she saw him as he once was. She will then look at Darth Vader and tell herself that all hope is not lost. Darth Vader will say that Anakin Skywalker is dead, but she knows it is not true.
Because Anakin Skywalker once told her that even in death, he would claw his way out of the very earth to find her.
“Something troubles you,” she whispers and Darth Vader does not move but his eyes do. His blazing gaze falls to her lips, down her arms, all the way to her hands. She follows their trail and knows what it is he must crave. Sometimes when she thinks she must be afraid of him, she reminds herself that this is only a boy who is lost, misguided. She wonders, she hopes, if in time, he can be guided back onto the right path again.
Her hands move to find one of his, his left, where she knows she will still find flesh underneath. She glances back up at him to find he is staring at their connected hands, lips pursed, waiting for her to continue. She sucks in a breath and pinches the tip of his glove at the middle finger, slowly, cautiously pulling it away from his hand. Her palm circles to cradle the back of his hand and while he does not shiver, the locking of his jaw does not go unnoticed.
Even after all this time, he still craves for touch, her touch, and her skin on his. It makes her wonder if he still thinks about it too, all their secret rendezvous, their nights of passion, bodies tangled together with only the moons as their witness. She wonders if he still remembers the words he used to always say to her, the tender, sweet little nothings he’d whisper in her ear, the promises for a better future he made woven in the tendrils of her hair. If he still thinks back to that day she last saw him as Anakin Skywalker, if he still remembers the words he told her.
She thinks he must, because he still fulfilled his promise: he came back, no matter what. Only not the same, but perhaps more of the same than she initially thought. She sees the locking of his jaw, his craving for her touch he dare not speak aloud and thinks maybe it could be true.
“Let me help you,” she says, because she knows he has no desire to speak. Darth Vader lifts his gaze to find she is already staring back as she brings his hand up to her face, cupping her cheek. The pad of his thumb subconsciously soothes over her bottom lip and she shivers, the tenderness of his touch a stark contrast to his demeanor. She knows what she is offering is only a temporary fix, but it is a start, and it is an understanding she didn’t quite have before.
He still craves for her, he still wants her. She doesn’t know if she can call what they have love, not anymore, but there is still a want. She thinks that maybe this is her Anakin slipping through the cracks. She decides to hold onto this sliver all that she can.
She presses her lips gently against his thumb, maintaining eye contact all the while, unwilling to break it. The blazing amber in his eyes intensifies and in an instant, his lips are on hers, replacing his thumb. She releases a mixture of a yelp and a moan into his mouth, letting his tongue scour her, devouring her. He seeks to conquer her but he still kisses her with desperation, almost insecurely, but not like he’s unsure. It’s more like he’s waiting for her to push him away, to curse and spit at him like he believes (and perhaps, does) deserve.
But she doesn’t. How could she? It’s hard to differentiate Darth Vader from Anakin Skywalker when they are one in the same, even while being entirely different. He still feels like her Anakin, he still shares the same shell as her Anakin. He kisses her with a mixture of Darth Vader and just the tiniest fraction of Anakin Skywalker but he is there, he is still there.
So she presses herself further into him. His right hand finds the small of her back and presses her further into him, his kiss more determined, his touch more certain. She pants against his mouth as he uses his left hand to unclip his cape, the heavy material falling in a heap on the floor behind him. She feels the shoulders of her dress slipping down her arms but does not feel his hands there and knows he is using the Force on her. It alights a new sort of blaze she’s never felt before between her legs and as his left hand grips her chin and his kisses trail down to her jaw, she burns brighter than ever before.
Her eyes are screwed shut as he sucks angry marks to the line of her jaw, her fingers holding on tightly to his sleeves. She thinks she hears the door slide open behind them but the invisible hand working at her clothes unties the knot at the small of her back and Darth’s teeth sink into her collarbone so she does not care. Her head tilts back and she hears the faint sound of footsteps retreating, the door sliding back closed, once again leaving them alone.
“An… Ana…” she hears herself begin to pant but knows it is a mistake as soon as he pulls away from her altogether, her body, now nude, feeling cold with the lack of his against it. She peels open her lids and shudders where she stands as his gaze pierces through her as if it intended to melt her to the very ground she stood on. She thinks she very well can but she knows there is no use of running so she stays, awaiting her fate.
“The name you call is not mine,” Darth speaks and he reaches out with a hand, his left, and her body is not her own anymore and her mind flashes back to the day where he found her, when he used this very power on her to strip her of her own will. She presses her lips together as the Force brings her down to her knees, the ground biting into her bare skin. She does not cry, does not even struggle. She simply waits— she’s already offered herself to him and she knows that he will not hurt her. He cannot afford to. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself without her. Because Anakin is still there. There is still someone inside of him that loves her. “It’d serve you well to forget that man, because he is gone. Dead. I want to hear you say my name. I want to hear you scream it until hell fears me.”
She hates the effect he has on her. She can feel herself pulse between her legs and she inhales, fluttering her eyes closed at how pathetic she must seem. Still wanting this dangerous, nefarious man. The man who murdered her uncle. The man who murdered her entire family. But yet, still the man who said he would cheat death to keep her safe.
Darth’s gaze intensifies and she feels a prodding in her mind, encouraging her, no, commanding her to comply. She gulps, and then, “Darth.”
The invisible finger toying with the outside of her mind crawls away and her body once again feels like it is her own but still, she stays in her place on her knees on the floor. Darth Vader’s footsteps echo the room as he steps forward until he towers above her. She peers up at him through her lashes, watches as he crouches, pinching her chin between the thumb and forefinger of his gloved hand.
“Obedient girl,” he remarks, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip. “You will not defy me, lest you wish for it to be the last thing you do.”
Her head nods before can even begin to think. She knows she would’ve complied regardless. The ache between her legs wouldn’t allow her to act otherwise. It was disgusting, lusting after this man who swears he will be her demise. But he has a way of making her insatiable, unlike herself.
“Good,” he says before he pulls away and she watches as he circles the center of the room, setting himself down into the throne in the middle, legs spread, waiting. “Undress me.”
She gulps down another moan, the words alone making her stomach somersault. She wastes no time to pick herself off of the floor, painfully aware of how naked she is as she makes her way over to where he sits. Even sitting on his throne, he is still bigger, still stronger than her. She feels meek, small against him as she begins with the shoulders of his armor, finding his eyes as she removes it, piece by piece. He taps his fingers against the arms of his seat as she unbuttons his tunic and before she can move to slide it down his arms, he waves a finger and her hands find his belt without their own accord.
She doesn’t move for a movement, only stares at him as he gazes back. He cocks an eyebrow, the one pierced with a scar, expectantly and she inhales sharply, her gaze sliding from his face down to his exposed, toned chest as she begins working at his belt. She tosses it away along with the heap of clothes on the floor and unbuttons his trousers, feeling her center throb at just how close she is to seeing what it desires. Her tongue swipes between her lips as she frees his cock from his pants, her breath hitching as she blinks at the angry pink tip peeking from his waistband.
“You test the limits of my patience,” Darth Vader says in an annoyed, clipped tone. “My cock will be your throne, but only if you make haste.”
She blinks again and she feels a ball of acid at the base of her throat as she tugs his pants all the way down to his knees, finally allowing his cock to spring free. She can’t help but gawk, even if she’s already seen it more times than she can count. It’s large to say the very least and it is hard, ready, eager for her. She recalls just how large it is whenever she’s had it in her mouth, how each and every vein of it feels when it is buried so deeply inside of her. Sometimes, she can’t believe that it is all hers to have. Sometimes, she doesn’t feel worthy of it.
She realizes she is testing his patience again, only when she feels that invisible hand wrap around her throat, her own subconsciously reaching for them, although they are not there. Breath is stolen from her and she knits her brows together, mumbling a tight apology.
“You are merely fortunate that I am not in the mood for games today,” he says and the Force brings her forwards, her knees hitting his. He leans towards her until their faces are mere inches away, his breath rolling like smoke over her cheeks. “So do not push my mercy any further. Sit on my cock.”
She feels every syllable of his last sentence in her core and the invisible hand remains on her throat as she manages to bring herself closer, her knees on either side of his thighs. He does not touch her, merely watches as she struggles to align his head with her center. When she finally does, he uses this invisible grip on her throat to push her down before releasing her altogether and she gasps for breath, eyes rolling back into her head, her head tipping towards the ceiling as a moan rips from her throat.
She can feel every pulsing vein of his cock against her walls, can feel her delicate cervix being bullied by his angry tip. Her hands search for his shoulders and when they do, her nails dig into the sleeves of his tunic, the bitter sting of tears escaping the edges of her eyes.
Darth hisses through his teeth and his left hand finds her hip, his skin warm against hers where it kneads. A curse tumbles past his lips and his other hand, still gloved, weaves through her hair, forces her forehead down onto his. She opens her eyes and sees his glaring gaze piercing through to her own.
“I don’t know how you do this to me,” he snarls. “I don’t know how only you have this effect on me. Only you can make me feel like this. Only you can make me…” Darth is unable to control himself so he snaps his hips up into her and she cries, more tears streaming down her cheeks. “…fuck!” He howls, tossing his head back against his throne. “You are destroying me. It’s not fair. How are you doing this to me?”
He says this last thing with a hint of a vulnerability she’s never heard from him before. It’s almost desperate, like she really, truly is destroying him, paining him. It’s hard for her to try and understand what this means when he is fucking her into a state of mind-numbingness, but there is only one thing, one word, one name that she can even think of.
“Darth!” She screeches but it is not the name she thinks of. She thinks of Anakin, how perhaps this, she is the key to freeing Anakin Skywalker from the mask of Darth Vader. Because this, this Darth Vader is but a mere facade— they both know it to be true. It is not who he truly is. He can try and deny it all he wants. But there is nowhere in the entire galaxy where he can hide that she won’t find him. Because he is and will always be Anakin Skywalker.
She knows that Darth Vader will try and fight it. He will tear down the entire galaxy before he admits it. He will destroy planets and will bring down entire monarchies before he admits it. He will kill and he will burn and he will destroy before he admits it. But not even that will be enough to hide from it, to run from it. Because she is Darth Vader’s destiny. She is Anakin Skywalker’s destiny. She will be Darth Vader’s destruction. And she will be Anakin Skywalker’s redemption.
She is the key to bringing Anakin Skywalker home.
a/n: another long one for anakin 🤭 i absolutely love writing for him, he's so complex and so fun to explore and create headcanons of my own for. i hope i was able to do him at least a little bit of justice here. sorry if this seemed a little too slow burn and if there wasn't enough smut to suffice 😭 i went in like "oh yeah this is gonna be absolutely filthy" but oh well! i find i write a little easier when i go in without much of a plan lol since i get carried away easily and usually just let my thumbs do whatever the hell they want anyways 😭 anywho! thank you so much for reading! it always warms my heart to know my writing is being seen by others! 🥹🫶
psst, i also want to thank each and every single one of you who read a place in the sea of stars. i was not expecting the feedback that fic received and i am still so overwhelmed by all the love all this time later. thank you thank you thank you a million times over from the bottom of my heart. 🥹🫶
💫 if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the world to me 🫶
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#anakin skywalker#darth vader#anakin smut#star wars anakin#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin x reader#anakin skywalker smut#anakin skywalker imagine#star wars#star wars prequels#star wars fanfiction#star wars imagine#darth vader x reader#darth vader x you#darth vader x y/n#anakin x you#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker x you
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The Sweet Escape
Chapter 1: Escaping the Empire
A/N: Here it is, folks!! The story you’ve all been waiting for!!
Word Count: 1025
Warnings: Angst, minor mentions of death, kissing
Once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away, you & your best friend, Anakin Skywalker were Jedi serving the Republic. That is until one day, he was seduced by the dark side & became Darth Vader. He begged you to join him as his apprentice. It took a lot of convincing, but after considering the fact that he was your best friend & long-time crush, you couldn’t bear to leave him.
It had been three years after you & Vader joined the Empire. There he sat in his office in his castle on Mustafar late at night, staring out the window at the fiery landscape when you knocked on the door.
“Come in,” he muttered softly & you poked your head through the door. Vader turned around to face you. “Ah, Y/N, what brings you here at this hour?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I had a lot on my mind.” you said.
“Do you wish to talk about it with me?” he asked. You nodded.
“I just... I keep thinking back to the time when we were happier together.”
“You mean to say you wish to go back to being a Jedi? Y/N, you can’t go back even if you wanted to. The Republic has been destroyed.”
You sighed. “I know, I know. I just wish there was a way to escape from here.”
Vader furrowed his brows. “You’re my apprentice! You can’t leave!”
“Well, I want to leave. I’m tired of this miserable life we lead. I never wanted to join the dark side, I only joined because, well... I love you.”
Vader’s eyes widened in shock, then anger. “You cannot love, Y/N. It weakens you.”
You looked down at the floor. “I was weak anyway...” Then you looked back up at him into his eyes, “You can’t tell me you didn’t love me a long time ago.”
Vader looked taken aback & he turned around, his back facing you. “Love is a weakness, Y/N.” he repeated.
“It’s not a weakness. That’s what the darkness wants you to believe. I know there’s still good in you-”
Vader whirled around to face you. “You don’t know that! You’ve seen all the people I’ve killed & hurt! You’ve seen all the destruction I’ve caused! How can you say there’s still good in me?!”
“I can sense it. You didn’t want to kill or destroy. You didn’t want to join the dark side.”
“I did it so I could protect you, protect us!”
“Protect us from what?!”
“I... I don’t remember…”
“Exactly.”
The air was silent between the two of you before Vader finally spoke quietly.
“You were right... About me being in love with you...”
“What?” you looked at him in surprise.
“I’m not repeating myself.”
“You love me?” you asked softly, a small smile on your face.
“I do,” Vader murmured.
“Then let’s get out of here. Start a new life together on a planet somewhere.”
“It’s not that easy, Y/N. I’m the second most powerful Sith in the galaxy. We’d be on the run & have to hide ourselves.” Vader sighs, cupping your face in one of his gloved hands.
“I’m willing to live a life on the run with you if it means we’d be happier.”
Vader took a step closer to you. “Are you sure?”
You nodded.
That was how you found yourself running next to your lover down the hallway, fighting off Stormtroopers. Suddenly, Emperor Palpatine stepped out of his office upon hearing the commotion.
“Lord Vader, what are you-” he was cut off by the hum of Vader’s lightsaber cutting through his chest. The Emperor’s body fell to the floor immediately.
You looked at Vader in a mix of awe & shock. He held out his hand to you & you took it, the two of you beginning to run down the corridor again as more Stormtroopers shot at you. Vader blocked the shots with his saber, the bullets ricocheting off of it & rebounding to hit the Troopers, killing them instantly. He led you to an escape shuttle & you both crawled inside of it. He started it up & soon, you were flying over the fiery landscapes of Mustafar & into space.
“Where are we going?” you asked.
“I was thinking we could hide out on the planet Naboo. Nobody will ever think to look for us there & we’ll be safe.” Vader said, steering the escape shuttle through the stars.
“Naboo sounds perfect,” you smiled.
The escape shuttle was quiet for a moment before Vader spoke: “You were very brave back there.”
“No, I wasn’t-”
“Don’t argue with me, Y/N.”
“But I was terrified out of my mind!”
“So was I, but I still killed the most powerful Sith Lord in the galaxy.”
You looked at him in disbelief. The Darth Vader, the most fearless man you’d ever met, was terrified? There was no way!
Vader noticed your expression and chuckled. “I’m being serious,” he said.
“I just didn’t expect you of all people to be afraid,” you mumbled.
He chuckled again & put the escape shuttle on autopilot to look at you. “Yet I was.” He paused a moment, gazing into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.
You blushed. “Thank you,”
“I mean it, Y/N. You’re gorgeous.” He cupped your cheek in one of his gloved hands & leaned in closer until his face was just millimeters away from yours. You could feel his breath on your lips & it made you shiver. Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for him to kiss you. Finally, he closed the gap between you both, his lips gently pressing against yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back softly as he caressed your sides, pulling you closer to him as he deepened the kiss slightly. After a moment, he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.
“I love you,” he murmured.
“I love you too,” you smiled.
You looked out the window to see Naboo in the distance. Vader grinned.
“Well, Starlet, it looks like we’ve approached our destination.” he said, turning off autopilot & steering the escape shuttle towards the planet.
“This is where the fun begins,” you grinned.
“Indeed,” Vader nodded.
A/N: & that’s chapter one, folks!! Our story is just beginning, so stay tuned for chapter two!!
#hayden christensen#haydenchristensen#anakin skywalker#unburnt vader#the sweet escape#star wars#unburnt vader x reader
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🖤✨️Empress Amidala & Unburnt Vader✨️🖤
•Patreon request! Love AU's where Padme joins Vader.
I take simple art requests from patrons as one of the rewards. Complex and highly detailed illustrations are for commissions. TOS applies.
Hope you guys like it!
#star wars#star wars art#padme and anakin#padme amidala#darth vader#anakin skywalker#star wars au#star wars what if#sw fandom#anidala#vaderdala
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Snippets of life
pairing: darth vader x reader, unburnt!vader
summary: dad and husband vader moments because i want to
tags: mild smut, slight breed!ng k!nk, mentions of pregnancy and labour, kids
masterlist
At this time, your eldest was less than two weeks old.
The little boy had been a rather tough birth. After a long hours of labour, the boy came out healthy and rather big. He had all of his limbs, 10 fingers and 10 toes. The boy was big, especially for one's first baby, a side effect of having children with a man as large as Vader you supposed. The postpartum bleeding afterwards nearly took your life had you not been in the hands of the finest doctors in the galaxy.
During recovery, your husband had begun being more…. present. A change that had been most peculiar seeing as he only used to appear when he wanted to fuck his child into you. Once you became pregnant, he begun to appear during dinners or at bedtime to sleep or again, fuck you.
He seems to appear more now. Not talking much to you or anything, but just lingering every now and then looking at your son in his crib or in your arms. Each time you offer your darling boy to him, he tenses and hesitation fills his eyes. You’re unsure whether the hesitation was because he’s afraid to hurt the baby, or he didn’t want a child.
Deep in your slumber, the whimpers of your son in his crib stir you awake. Blearily, you open your eyes and the sight of Vader looming over the crib greets you. His tall frame towers over the crib, all powerful and terrifying. His gloved hand reaches down to the baby. For a moment, your heart lurches, what if he hurts the baby?
But Vader’s hand seems to be harmless, stroking the baby, quieting his small whimpers. Was he soothing the baby? The warm and quiet air of the room is far too comforting and you nearly fall back asleep as you watch Vader and your son. Exhaustion still seeps in your bones, weighing you down to pull you back to the land of sleep. You try to resist, but eventually exhaustion takes over.
Before you drift away, Vader leans down, and quietly he says “There, there your father’s here, hmm? No need to wake up your mother, my boy.”
Something in your heart, perhaps maternal instinct, you supposed. Despite the lack of evidence to support it, your heart tells you that he somehow would be a good father.
—-
Vader likes you pregnant, all barefoot and belly swollen full of his child. He craved you more now that you were pregnant with his second child, always touching you and pulling you into bed to spread your legs. Your eldest is barely 2 years old as head already keen on another.
Late at night, he’s balls deep into you. Thrusting at a merciless pace that has your sensitive body trembling in pleasure. He’s made you climax so many times, filled you with his seed over and over again as if you weren’t pregnant with another son of his.
Just as he’s about to shoot another load into your sweet cunt, a sharp knock on the door interrupts him.
A voice came from outside the door. “Lord Vader! I’m— I’m sorry to interrupt, but it's the young master! His fever is too high, we think he’s seizing.”
Without hesitation, you move to push him off of you but your legs are shaky from the countless orgasms he gave you. Your swollen belly doesn’t aid your cause. Vader gently pushes you back down, “I’ll go to him, don’t force yourself up if you can’t. I don’t want you to…hurt yourself or the baby.”
He dons his robes before heading to your son’s bedroom while you try to gather yourself. Down the hall, your little boy needs you and you need to get it together.
Shakily, you clean yourself up. You forgo a nightgown and quickly wear your robe, before heading to your son’s room. Walking through the hall, you hear his cries and you hear Vader too.
The sight that greets you both melts your heart and twists it. Vader is on the bed, cradling your son in his lap, gently soothing him through the sobs.
“Shh, I’m sorry, I know it hurts. The doctor will be here soon, hmm?” He says to your son.
“See, there’s mummy. She didn’t forget you. Do you still want her kisses, to make you feel better?” he asks your son.
When your son sees you, he cries out for you, sobs wracking through his small body. You sit down next to Vader, reaching out to stroke your son’s head and kiss his head. The little boy leans into your touch, body relaxing when you calm him. His temperature is high, he wasn’t even feverish when you were breastfeeding him or putting him to bed earlier.
His skin is flushed red, even in the dim lighting of the room. “Have they called the doctor?” You ask Vader, voice trembling with worry.
Vader merely nods as he continues to rub your son’s back. The little boy eventually gets sleepy and wants to lay with you. Vader lays the boy’s head on your thigh, making sure his head is supported. Vader pats your son’s stomach to lull him to sleep while you stroke his little head.
“He was fine when I put him to bed,” you say quietly, trying not to jostle the sleeping boy.
“Wasn’t feverish when I fed him earlier either. I don’t know how I didn’t feel him coming down with something.” you continue, guilt and worry lacing every word.
“It’s not your fault. Children get ill all the time, him included. I think.. I might know what’s happening but let’s wait until the doctor get here.” Vader somberly replies.
“Speaking of which, they better get here soon or else they’re dead. Why pay them so much and they can’t even get here quickly?” grumbles Vader.
A sharp kick from your baby earns a small whimper from you. “Baby’s kicking hard again?” He asks.
You nod, “He’s usually active this time of night. Kicking my bladder for fun. Do you want to feel?”
Vader reaches out and places a hand on your swollen belly, feeling his son move inside you. Eventually, he helps you back to bed. He promises to not kill the doctor for being late and insists you require the rest. After all, its his baby growing inside you.
By the time the doctor arrives, Vader wants to kill him for arriving so late. The only reason the doctor is alive is that his son needs a doctor and his pregnant wife would faint if he killed a man in their home.
He decides against waking you up since the results won’t be available till morning anyways. The doctor administers some medication and thoroughly ensures checks over his son.
Vader orders the doctor to stay overnight, in case another seizure comes. Vader picks up the now sleeping boy and brings him to your bedroom.
“Papa?” his son sleepily calls out.
“Hmm? What’s wrong, you feeling bad again?”
“Wanna sleep with you and mummy.”
“I know. That’s why I’m taking you to our room. Mummy’s going to make you all better with her kisses, hmm?” Says Vader
His son is already asleep again before he can reply.
#anakin skywalker x reader#darth vader x reader#anakin skywalker#darth vader#hayden christensen#star wars#vader x reader#unburnt!vader
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omg can I pls request a fic where anakin does turn to the dark side but then sees the twins he has with the reader and tries to idk redeem himself? with like a shit ton of angst but then a little light of hope in the end
im really bad at explaining what exactly the request really Is but u get the gist of it😭
Ashes To Stars
Unburnt! Darth Vader x female reader
As the galaxy burns under the Empire’s shadow, a lost love and hidden children may be the only light strong enough to reach what remains of Anakin Skywalker.
Warning: ANGST, Major character death, killings, death, funeral, gore, kinda war. (Let me know if there is anything else).
Word Count: 2.2k
Masterlist
Before
The Jedi Temple burned behind you, its flames licking the Mustafar skyline like fingers of hell reaching toward the heavens. A grotesque parody of a funeral pyre, for hope, for peace, for everything the Jedi Order once stood for.
You had arrived too late.
Smoke thick as mourning shrouds coiled around the great stone pillars, charring once-pristine walls with soot and sorrow. You stumbled through the carnage, boots slipping in blood and ash, the stench of death clinging to your robes and searing itself into your lungs.
Tiny bodies, so many of them, scattered like broken dolls on the marble floor. Limbs twisted at unnatural angles. Faces frozen in fear. Lightsabers still gripped in small, trembling hands that would never grow strong enough to wield them again.
You dropped to your knees beside one of the younglings, brushing a strand of hair from their wide, glassy eyes. You bit down a sob.
“Anakin,” you gasped, your voice hoarse from smoke and disbelief. “Anakin, where are you?”
No answer came.
Only silence.
Then—
Snap-hiss.
The hum of a lightsaber igniting echoed in the ruined hall like a war drum.
A blade, red as spilled blood, pierced the gloom.
Your eyes lifted.
And there he stood.
Your Anakin… and yet not.
His silhouette emerged from the shadows like a nightmare carved from obsidian. Cloaked in darkness, his saber casting hellish light across the smoldering temple, he looked more wraith than man. His face was impassive, carved from stone, but those eyes—
Gone was the sun-gold warmth that once danced in his gaze when he looked at you.
Now his irises burned a molten amber, twin infernos of hate and agony and something worse than rage—emptiness.
“Anakin?” Your voice cracked, nearly drowned by the crackling of flames and the weight of the moment. You took a step forward. “What have you done?”
He didn’t speak.
Only stared.
You wanted to reach for him. Wanted to believe this was a trick, a vision, some dark Force illusion. But the truth lay around you, splattered on the floor in crimson and silence.
Your hand hovered over your lightsaber hilt. You didn’t draw it.
He did.
He was trying to kill you.
And some twisted part of you understood why. Because you knew him. Knew the guilt would rot him alive if he let you live. You were the last piece of the old Anakin. The last witness.
If you lived, he couldn't hide from what he'd become.
He wouldn't let that happen.
Not willingly.
You survived. Barely.
It took everything, every drop of strength, every trick Obi-Wan ever taught you, every prayer you’d never believed in, to get away.
Mustafar nearly finished the job.
Lava scorched the sky, a mirror to the fire that had swallowed the Temple. You collapsed on blackened rock, your body broken, saber gone, breath shallow and wet with blood. You remembered the smell of burning flesh, his screams, and the stench of betrayal seeping into your skin like poison.
You had seen him fall.
And you had still reached for him.
“Please, come back. You don’t have to do this.”
“You’re a liar.” “I loved you.”
“You killed everything we ever were.”
He hadn’t hesitated. Not then.
You crawled away from that planet half-dead, dragging yourself aboard a stolen ship, your limbs barely responding, the pain a constant roar in your ears.
You didn’t know how long you drifted in space, slipping in and out of consciousness. Sometimes you screamed. Sometimes you prayed.
And sometimes you whispered his name.
Anakin.
Anakin.
Anakin.
But he didn’t answer.
Not until the Force began whispering back.
Not until you felt it—a pulse, faint but persistent. A flicker of life inside your broken body.
It started as a warmth low in your belly, a tiny flutter like a star being born. You thought it was the pain, a hallucination.
Until the Force wrapped around you like a breath.
Two heartbeats.
Not just your own.
You were pregnant.
And that was the moment the last piece of you shattered.
You wept for Anakin Skywalker.
The man who had died with his hands soaked in the blood of the future.
The man who would never hold his children.
The man you loved more than anything.
Even now.
-----------
Years Later
The Outer Rim was harsh, but you raised your children in its shadows. Two of them, twins. Luke, steady and protective, with his father’s quiet strength. Leia, fierce and luminous, her eyes full of fire and stars.
You told them stories of the Jedi. You told them of a man named Anakin Skywalker, who blazed through the galaxy like a supernova, too bright, too fast, trying to hold back fate with bare, bleeding hands. But you never spoke of Darth Vader.
But the war never truly ended for you. You moved often. You taught them to hide, to bury their power. The Force pulsed strong in both, and the galaxy was no place for children of Skywalker blood.
You dreamed of him sometimes. The man with sun-touched curls and a smile that softened even your darkest days. The one who kissed your bruised knuckles after battle and promised that if there was ever a peace, he’d build you a home on Naboo.
Sometimes, even now, you still woke up crying.
-----------
Now
The Empire was relentless. It never stopped hunting.
You were a fracture in its foundation. A splinter of the past the Emperor never managed to crush beneath his boot. A memory wrapped in flesh. A threat.
So it was only a matter of time.
Vader found you on Dantooine.
The wind was sharp that morning. The sun low and veiled by ash-grey clouds. The cold arrived first. Then the silence.
Then the dread.
You barely had time to usher the children into the underground chamber, heart hammering, before the bunker doors blew inward with a metallic shriek.
They came in like a flood, stormtroopers, faceless and ruthless, shouting orders you didn’t hear as they seized your arms and forced you to your knees in the dust. Your cheek scraped the stone floor, blood smearing your lip. You didn’t struggle. There was no point. You could already feel him drawing closer, every step a thunderclap in your soul.
And then he appeared.
Black armor. Labored breathing. A towering shadow of death, framed in smoke and ruin. The mask was the same you’d seen in holos, the one children feared and rebels cursed. But it wasn’t just a mask to you.
It was a tombstone for the man you loved.
Your throat clenched. Your heart tried to crawl out of your chest. You couldn't breathe, not from fear—but from knowing. Because behind that mask was Anakin. Your Anakin.
Or what was left of him.
“You should have died,” he said. His voice wasn’t his. It came through a filter, flat and warped and wrong. It sounded mechanical and hollow.
Your fingers curled into the floor.
“And yet I didn’t,” you spat, tasting copper. “Neither did they.”
For a moment, there was nothing.
Then his head turned, the mechanical whirring was the only sound.
“They?” he repeated, slow. Almost cautious.
And then, like a wire pulled tight between you, the Force cracked like a whip.
He felt them.
His body stilled, like stone beneath ice.
Two presences pulsed in the distance. Two familiar, flickering stars. Bright. Trembling. Luke’s resolve was already hardening, his small fingers wrapping around the hilt of his training saber. Leia’s fear shone brighter, like fire, but it didn’t crack. She was afraid, yes, but not broken.
He felt all of it.
And you saw the tremor ripple through his stance like lightning striking the sea.
“No…” you whispered, barely audible, tears springing to your eyes. “Please. Anakin... not them.”
The name, Anakin, split the air like a scar. It clung there, heavy and hollow, a word too full of history.
He didn’t speak. But he didn’t move, either.
You saw his hand twitch. Not toward his saber.
"Look at me," you said, voice trembling. "Look at what you became. Look at what they could be. Don’t let this be it. Don’t let this be how it ends."
Something cracked in the silence. Not out loud. Inside him.
The air grew heavy, tense, like the galaxy itself held its breath.
The stormtroopers were frozen, unsure whether to fire or wait for a command. You weren’t sure what would happen either. You were trembling, whether from fear or hope, you didn’t know.
And then, with slow, almost painful movements, Vader stepped forward.
And removed his helmet.
It hissed as it detached. The sound was final. Like the slamming of a coffin lid, only backward. A door opening, instead of closing.
He looked... ruined.
Older. Worn. Paler than you remembered. Scars crawled across his skin like jagged cracks in porcelain, and his eyes, his eyes, they were sunken, haunted things.
But they were his.
Blue, beneath all that shadow. Just barely.
And the moment he saw them, really saw them, everything stopped.
Two small figures stepped into the threshold of the hallway behind you, drawn by something they couldn’t name. Luke, wide-eyed, tense with uncertainty. Leia, brave as ever, her hands clenched at her sides even as her lip quivered.
The second he saw them, Anakin Skywalker fell to his knees.
Not in pain.
Not to dominate.
To beg.
His saber deactivated and dropped beside him with a thud.
“I didn’t know,” he rasped, voice barely more than a whisper through scarred lungs. “I didn’t know you lived. I thought—I thought I killed you—I saw you fall—"
His voice broke, and so did your heart.
You didn’t know how you moved, only that you were in front of him, the twins behind you. He looked at them like they were ghosts.
Leia stepped forward first. Brave little flame. She looked at him, chin held high, and said in a voice far too soft for the moment:
“Mom said you were a hero.”
Anakin flinched as if struck.
A breath escaped him, ragged, wounded. His shoulders crumpled, hands shaking. His fingers curled against the floor, as if trying to hold on to something slipping too fast through his grasp.
You moved closer.
Kneeling in front of him, you reached out and gently touched his cheek.
He didn’t flinch.
Didn’t pull away.
You saw it then, the flicker. The flicker of the boy who’d held you beneath Naboo’s waterfalls. The man who kissed your stomach when you first told him you wanted a family. The warrior who fought with too much passion and loved with too much fire.
“You still can be,” you whispered, your voice breaking in two. “It’s not too late. Come back. Please. Let them know their father.”
Silence.
Then a sound.
Snap-hiss.
Your breath caught.
But the blade wasn’t red.
It was blue.
He turned it, not on you, not on the children, but against the stormtroopers still standing dumbfounded by the door. Against the monster he had become. Against everything Palpatine ever chained him to.
He moved like the wind. Efficient. Cold, but not cruel. He didn’t slaughter them for vengeance.
He did it for you.
For them.
For the light still buried beneath years of shadow.
-----------
Later
You buried him beneath the trees of Naboo.
A quiet resting place, where the wind sounded like laughter, and the light through the leaves looked like peace. Where the water shimmered like glass and the grass remembered bare feet and kisses stolen under moonlight.
You chose the spot where he'd once told you he wanted to build a home. Back when his eyes were still blue, when the war hadn’t yet carved him into someone else. When you’d both believed, naïvely, foolishly, bravely, that peace was possible.
Leia’s hands trembled as she laid her bouquet down, delicate blossoms she'd gathered herself, wrapped in a strip of her old tunic. She didn’t cry, not where anyone could see. But she stayed closest to the grave, as if trying to understand the shape of a man she’d never truly known.
Luke stood beside her, quiet and still, his eyes fixed on the horizon like he was trying to see the galaxy their father once believed he could save.
The stone you placed was simple.
No titles. No rank.
Just a name.
Anakin Skywalker.
The one he finally earned again.
As the final clumps of soil were placed and the wildflowers arranged, Leia knelt beside you. Her small fingers laced through yours. Her voice was soft, almost unsure.
“Did he say anything? At the end?”
You turned your head, you swallowed against the grief swelling in your throat and smiled through the ache.
“He said he loved you,” you whispered. “Both of you. And me.”
There was a long silence after that. No one moved. Even the wind seemed to still, as if the world itself wanted to preserve the moment.
Then Luke stepped closer.
Without a word, he took your hand.
And as the three of you stood there, beneath the trees where love had once bloomed and returned to die, you looked up.
The stars shimmered above you.
Endless.
Quiet.
Hopeful.
Like maybe, just maybe, there was still something out there waiting to be healed.
Something worth fighting for.
Something worth remembering.
Something like hope.
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I loved this rec, I hope it matched their expectations. Also sorry for the sad ending but at least it was happier than my other stuff. 💗 Tysm for reading everyone hope you enjoyed!!
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