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#star wars fluff
angelltheninth · 7 months
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Could you do romance tropes with Star Wars characters?
I sure as hell can!
Pairing: Anakin, Obi-Wan, Darth Maul, Kanan, Poe, Kylo Ren x Reader
Tags: fluff, secret relationship, making out, sneaking around, flirting, denial, confession, lots of tension
A/N: I should expand on these one of these days cause they're all so good.
ANAKIN + NOBODY THINKS IT WILL WORK
He is a big flirt so of course everyone figures that it's a short term thing. Almost like they're just waiting to see how long you last before Anakin gets bored of you. No one except for you can see just how much he's fallen for you. It may have started with nothing but lustful nights and kisses but it's so much more now. He's seeking you out, holding your hand, talking about what will happen after the war, how he can give you a good life. He swears he will make things work.
OBI-WAN + UNREQUITED LOVE
He knows there's something there from how you look at him, he can feel it on his own heart as well, a feeling that Obi-Wan hasn't felt in so long. Of course he needs to wait until things have settled down before he does anything about this feeling. It's not that you don't like him back, you do but you can't bring, allow yourself to love him. You know it would tear him apart to have to choose between you and the Jedi. So when he confesses you convince him, and yourself that you don't love him back.
DARTH MAUL + LOVE/HATE RELATIONSHIP
Oh man, the tension between you can't be cut even by a lightsaber. No matter how many times you say you hate each other you always find a way into each others arms. Everything you do has an undertone of competition, it's way you both always walk away with so many marks on you. When you and Maul work together you always tease each other, you always try to fluster the other by outdoing each other and somehow relaying it back to the things that happen behind closed doors.
KANAN + LOVERS IN DENIAL
You live together, you sleep together, you tease and flirt and kiss each other, but no, you and Kanan are not lovers. You're together because you fit each other like a glove but you both deny any romantic feelings there. It makes you the subject of much gossip in the Rebellion but you try not to let it get to you much. When you think you hear the other confess you pretend it didn't happen. Not yet. You're gonna confess properly after the war. Until then what you have is enough.
POE + UNDERCOVER RELATIONSHIP
You and Poe get along really well, which is why you were chosen for an undercover mission. It was supposed to stay only that, you should have remained professional, but your hands and mouth and tongues had other plans. It may have started as an undercover relationship but by the end of the mission it's looking more like that was just an excuse for your true feelings to come to light.
KYLO REN + SUNNY VS GRUMPY
He doesn't want anyone to know you're in this sort of a relationship. You have to sneak in and out of his bedroom, but little doors he know that it makes you very happy to know you have such a special place in his heart. He will never admit it, he will have his angry face on whenever you point this out to him and it won't go away if you kiss him, you have to work much harder to get Kylo to stop frowning.
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skybreakprimeonao3 · 4 days
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He had a name before he was assigned to a battalion, even though everyone called him Shiny until he proved himself in battle. Though once he did earn the right, he decided to stick with the name given to him by the other cadets.
“I’m called Two Tone,” he told his Captain, who raised an eyebrow. To the silent question, he shrugged. “No one told me why.”
And that was the truth. He wasn’t inclined to whistle or sing. He got the name long before he reached the age of his voice cracking in forced puberty. Just one day in class, one of his batchmates laughed and called him Two Tone, and it stuck.
Somehow, he never figured out why he was called that until after a joint battle with General Unduli and General Kenobi, fighting to take back a planet from the Separatists, at the request of the local government. Everyone was giving him weird looks ever since he had painted his armor, and he just told himself it was probably because of the design. He always had problems getting it correct on his armor, and he didn’t want to ask someone for help, so he was stuck with his own quality.
Cleaning up after the fight was normal, trudging around the battlefield to find any fallen comrades and equipment, seeing the medic if hurt, packing things away again. Two Tone thought it was weird when he didn’t bump into anyone from the 212th, but figured it was because they might have been on the other side of the battlefield. He did his best sticking to his brothers as things began to get loaded into the LAAT/is, tired and quiet as he road the drop ship up to the Venator.
He assisted with unloading things, feeling the ship shudder faintly as it transitioned into hyperspace, though his movements came to a halt as he saw General Kenobi walking by the area. Frowning, he turned to the Clone beside him.
“Why isn’t General Kenobi with the 212th?”
The Clone frowned at him. “This is the 212th…”
Two Tone prided himself on being levelheaded, so when he started to panic so hard that General Kenobi came to an abrupt stop and looked at him, he was proud that he didn’t run away or collapse or simply imploded.
“Are you all right, dear one?” General Kenobi asked and a part of Two Tone’s mind was amused to learn that the rumors were correct about the endearing terms the man used.
“I apologize, sir,” Two Tone managed to squeak out. “But… I was assigned to General Unduli… I’m on the wrong ship.”
General Kenobi’s head tilted to the side curiously, glancing over Two Tone’s armor.
“Have you been tested for colorblindness?” the General asked curiously.
***
“Deuteranopia colorblindness,” Obi-Wan said, giving Luminara a faint smile. “The poor man was so embarrassed. Evac tested him and decided to do a ship wide test. Apparently colorblindness isn’t too uncommon among the Clones.”
The holo of the Jedi Master shook her head, a fond sigh escaping her. “When he painted his armor orange and green, I thought he was living up to his name. I am glad to hear that we hadn’t lost him in battle.”
“No, just temporarily misplaced,” Obi-Wan said with a chuckle.
“Joint custody then, until you can return him to me?”
“Well keep him safe, I promise you.”
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vivwritesfics · 3 months
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I'd Follow You Across The Galaxy
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Y/N Skywalker loved her husband. She loved him through everything. Even when he turned to the dark side, she still loved him. But she couldn't be with him. She had her babies to protect. Her husband would follow her across the galaxy.
or
A collection of moments from Y/N and Anakin's relationship, recounted as she travels across the galaxy.
4.1K
Travelling alone through the universe, Y/N Skywalker had a lot of time to think. She thought about her name, how, even though she was still married, she'd have to change it to her maiden name.
She thought of the friends she hadn't seen since the end of the war, the children she had sent off to keep safe, the husband who had died in front of her.
The Clone Wars were something Y/N thought about often. She and her husband had fought side by side. It was when they fell in love. Her favourite thing to think about was when they first met.
“Princess Y/N from Idobaar has been kidnapped yet again,” Obi-Wan said to his Padawan learner. “We are to find her and bring her back to Coruscant. That way the Jedi Council can keep an eye on her,” he said.
Anakin Skywalker had heard of Princess Y/N from Idobaar before. He had heard stories of her beauty, but also of her recklessness. If she was kidnapped, it wasn’t because guards weren’t doing their jobs, but because she had wandered away and gotten herself into trouble.
Obi-Wan and Anakin only took a small ship to rescue the princess. Something that would allow them to move almost undetected through the stars. They found the vessel she was being kept on and made their way onboard.
The Jedi had to remain undetected for the safety of the princess. With the help of R2, they snuck their way through the ship, easily locating the cell Princess Y/N was supposed to be kept in. The key word there being ‘supposed’. It was empty, the door already open. A destroyed droid was beside the door, its blaster missing.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” said Obi-Wan as he looked at the droid.
Blasts from further down the hall. The Jedi unsheathed their lightsabers and took off towards the sounds.
It was a blood bath. Or, it would have been if droids could bleed. Princess Y/N of Idobaar was ducking into alcoves, emerging only to shoot at droids. As Obi-Wan and Anakin rushed towards her, a droid had a lucky shot. The princess cried out as it hit her arm and ducked behind the alcove.
The two Jedi took care of the droid’s Y/N had yet to destroy. Once they were finished with, Anakin put his lightsaber away and walked towards the Princess. “Princess Y/N?” He asked, offering her his hand.
“Who in the world are you?” She asked, accepting the help and getting to her feet. Her hand held her injured arm, keeping it close to her body.
Anakin took only seconds to observe it. There was no medical droid onboard their small ship; they would need to get her to an infirmary as soon as they got back to Coruscant. “I am Anakin Skywalker—”
“A Jedi?” Asked Y/N interrupting him.
More droids were approaching, that was easy to tell from the readily approaching footsteps. The Jedi wasted no time in moving Y/N along, running her back towards their ship. There was no point them moving under the cover of stealth, not when Y/N had already caused so much commotion.
As they ran she blasted, using her uninjured arm to shoot behind her. Obi-Wan and Anakin did their bit in cutting down droids and protecting the princess. They got her back onto their ship with no more injury and flew her back to Coruscant.
Of course, they were followed. Little fighter ships followed them, but Anakin was quick to take care of it. It was his flying skills that caught Y/N’s eye first, he would always say after this.
"Anything on the scanner?" Y/N asked her ship. It really was an incredible piece of engineering, a vehicle with a personality of it's own. Ship made a noise, something only Y/N could decipher.
Nothing. No Imperial Star Destroyers behind her.
"How about we stop at the nearest planet and get some rations?"
Ship made another noise.
"If you think you can hold out that long before we have to refuel," she replied, patting her steering mechanism.
Before Y/N met her husband, she couldn't fly a ship. He was the reason she learnt.
“So, I’m to be kept on Coruscant as a prisoner?” Y/N yelled, staring at Mace Windu.
The Jedi Master sent her an unimpressed look. He had better things to do than look after a spoiled princess. “Your parents have requested that you be kept here under the watchful eye of the Jedi,” he replied, clearly fed up with her already. Y/N seemed to have that affect on people.
Anakin watched from a distance as Mace Windu got more and more annoyed with her. Never angry, though. He was a Jedi Master, after all. “We have assigned Obi-Wan Kenobi and his Padawan to protect you,” Anakin heard him say.
“You mean the guys that saved me?!” Y/N suddenly shrieked. But then her expression changed. She thought about it for only a few seconds  before nodding. “Yeah, okay.”
Looking past Y/N, Mace Windu summoned Anakin forward. The Padawan walked towards Y/N and bowed. "Princess," he said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. "It is good to see you again."
Y/N just gave the Jedi a look. She grinned, turned on her heel and walked away. Anakin followed her silently, his hands clasped behind his back. “So, Padawan learner, where is your master?” She asked him as they stepped into the elevator.
“The Jedi council has sent him on a mission,” he answered. “I will be your protector.”
Protector, Anakin liked the sound of that. He would be the one to protect Princess Y/N of Idobaar.
"I don't need a protector," she spat back as the elevator arrived at her new room. The room Y/N didn't want. "I shouldn't even be here on Coruscant!"
All Anakin could do was watch as she stormed into her room and pulled the door shut behind her.
Anakin looked around the foyer. It was where all of Y/N things had been placed, her possessions from Idobaar brought over to make her feel more at home and comfortable. One bag was open and full of dresses. Funny, Anakin couldn't imagine Y/N in a dress.
The first time he'd met Y/N, she'd been wearing a shirt and trousers, a holster strapped to her leg. Her outfit now was much the same, just without the holster.
Anakin looked to her room. Being a Jedi he could feel her in there, except he couldn't. He ran at the door, throwing it open as he went. If Anakin had lost her already, he'd never hear the end of it.
Princess Y/N of Idobaar was nowhere to be seen. Her bed had been stripped, her sheets tied to the bed post and hanging out of the open windows. Running over, Anakin's eyes followed the sheets to the roof of the slightly smaller building just below them.
Throwing his head back, Anakin let out a groan and jumped out of the window after her.
Y/N had her arms out, balancing her way across the roof. Her steps were slow, steady as she concentrated on staying up there.
There was a noise overhead, but Y/N wasn't concentrating on that. She had hours before her Jedi protector noticed she was gone.
But then he landed in front of her. Y/N stumbled back as he did so, but the Jedi was quick to grab a hold of her. "You really haven't spent a lot of time around Jedi, have you?" Asked Anakin as he kept her upright on the roof.
"So what if I haven't?" She glared up at him, but Anakin didn't release his hold. Y/N softened her expression. "Okay, fine. I don't want to be stuck here on Coruscant until my parents want me home. I just want some freedom before I'm trapped," she said.
What happened the last time she got some freedom? She got herself kidnapped.
And then, Anakin had a plan. "What if I took you flying?"
"Flying?"
Anakin nodded his head.
"What, so just outside of the planet?" It would take maybe five minutes at most.
Anakin just gave her a look.
***
Y/N loved flying. When she was younger and her parents took her on diplomatic trips, her favourite part was travelling there. Y/N sat in the cockpit, watching as Anakin flew the ship. He made it look so easy.
"I've never flown a ship before," Y/N confessed as she watched him.
A grin covered Anakin's face as he began to show off, manoeuvring around other ships. When he got to a wide open space, Anakin stopped the ship and pushed his chair back. "Want to give it a try?"
Y/N sat.
Where did she sit? Why, on Anakin's lap, of course. He helped her to fly it, taking things nice and slow. Anakin had her doing his manoeuvres from before, just at a much slower pace.
He let her drive until they were coming in for a landing. That was when Anakin had to take over once again. Once they were back on Coruscant, Y/N turned towards him. "Nice lesson, Jedi," she said with a giggle. "Maybe we can do this again while I'm stuck here."
Anakin stood from his seat. He followed behind Y/N as she left the ship. "Will you stay on Coruscant now, your highness?" He asked her as he held the door open.
"I'll think about it," she answered, stepping into the elevator.
That was a large number of years ago. So much had changed since then. When Y/N thought about things like that, about how things were all those years ago, it hurt.
It hurt being alone, drifting through the universe. It hurt not having a co pilot to keep her company. Ship was the only friend she had now that her husband was dead.
Y/N checked the coordinates. "Uh, Ship? Why are we heading to Tatooine?"
This time, when Ship made his noises, Y/N couldn't figure them out. Tatooine was fast approaching, but Ship wasn't slowing down. "Give me control!" Y/N cried, sitting back in her seat. "Ship! We're gonna crash!"
And crash they did. When Ship hit the sand, Y/N went flying forward, through the windshield and out into the desert.
Stranded.
They were stranded. Y/N laid in the sand. The Tatooine sun beat down on her, frying her. But she couldn't feel it - she was out cold.
***
Y/N woke up with a panicked start. She had been attacked, hadn't she? There was no way Ship would have just crashed other wise. She looked around at where she was, at the person in the corner of the cave. "Oh my God," she whispered, pushing herself to a sitting position.
It was somebody she had not seen for a great many years, somebody she'd grown to care for like a friend. She'd grown to miss him over the last ten years, too. "Obi-Wan?"
The last time Y/N had seen the man, he hadn't looked quite so haggard. The last time she had seen him, he had saved her and her babies from the clutches of Darth Vader
"That is a name I have not heard for many years," answered Kenobi as he stood up. "Now, what are you doing here on Tatooine, your highness?"
Y/N shook her head from side to side. "I don't know. Ship and I have been drifting for years, landing when we need to and avoiding Vader and his men at all costs. He suddenly landed me here with no word."
"Well, at any rate, I am glad to see you."
Obi-Wan gave her what rations he had and something to drink. "I'll see what I can do for Ship," he said, but Y/N knew what he was thinking. If Anakin was here, he'd be able to fix Ship in a heartbeat.
There was a question Y/N had been dying to ask Obi-Wan since the moment she woke up in his cave. One question she was was terrified of hearing the answer of.
"Obi-Wan, what happened to Luke and Leia? Have you seen them at all?"
Obi-Wan took his time answering her. Which filled her with anxiety.
"Let me show you," he finally said and Y/N let out a breath.
Kenobi took Y/N away from his cave, to a cliff. They sat themselves on the little ledge and Obi-Wan pulled out his Macrobinoculars. He looked first, making sure the little boy was still there, playing with his toys.
And then he passed the Macrobinoculars to Y/N. "Right there," he said and pointed.
When Y/N looked, she let out a gasp. There he was, the little boy she hadn't seen since the day he was born. Y/N watched him play in the Tatooine sand with his toy that looked a little bit like Ship. He was playing just outside of the moisture farm Y/N had visited only once before.
He was with good people, people that had taken care of Y/N in her hour of need.
"No, master Jedi, nobody is trying to kill me," said Y/N as she marched back to her room in Coruscant. It had been her home for a year now, with her Jedi protectors following her every move.
Y/N had spoken to her parents only a handful of times since they'd sent her to Coruscant. They were paranoid and wouldn't have her home any time soon. She missed her home, missed the palace and the friends she had there.
"Your highness, please," Obi-Wan began. "We just ask you be cautious. Our job is to protect you in any way we can; please don't make our job difficult."
Y/N let out a sigh. "Fine," she mumbled, sparing a glance at Anakin. "I'll be on my best behaviour."
The next few days passed somewhat normally for Y/N. When she left her room, Anakin was right behind her, close enough to touch. But he didn't; he kept his distance. That was the Jedi way.
But then, three days after Obi-Wan sat her down to speak with her, things started going wrong. The Jedi believed that, with Y/N safely in her room and with two guards outside of the door, they would be able to go to Jedi council meetings. Y/N, too, thought she was safe for that little while.
As Anakin returned to Y/N's room, he sensed something. Something that wasn't right. He ran into Y/N's room, lightsaber drawn. Y/N let out a gasp as Anakin cut off the hand of the person at the window. They were on the other side, hole cut in the glass for their gun.
"Holy Shit!" Y/N cried, turning to face the Jedi. "What happened?"
Anakin's breath was short as he stood with his lightsaber held above him, looking for the assailant. Before he could answer Y/N, he was jumping out of the window, chasing after the person trying to kill her. "Anakin!" Y/N cried as she leaned over the now broken window, watching as he disappeared between the speeders.
Okay, so maybe somebody was trying to kill her.
The Jedi council set Obi-Wan on the job of finding her assassin. While Obi-Wan worked, Anakin was tasked with looking after Y/N. "We should get off of Coruscant," he said as he sat on Y/N's bed.
"But where can we go?" She asked him. As much as she agreed, Y/N couldn't think of a single place safer for her. She couldn't go back to Idobaar, not when her parent's didn't think it was safe. But then she thought of somewhere. "My parent's are close to the Queen of Naboo. Maybe she'd host us," she suggested.
Anakin sat there, watching her as she packed her bags. She was beautiful, but Anakin had always known that. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her - it made his work as a Jedi very difficult.
The Padawan was hellbent on protecting her. He carried her things to their transport, said goodbye to Obi-Wan and took her to Naboo.
Senator Amidala was there to greet them when they arrived. She greeted Y/N with an embrace and gave Anakin a polite hello.
Naboo was where Y/N and Anakin camped out until Obi-Wan had caught her attempted killer. It was warm, sunny, peaceful. They sat by the lake, watching the sunset. They ate a decadent feast, but only once they'd taken the food up to the room Y/N had been placed in.
But, while they were on Naboo, Anakin was having nightmares. Y/N had never noticed before, but with only a thin wall between them, it was hard not to.
"What is it, Ani?" She asked one morning. When she woke up, she saw him outside of her room, on the veranda.
They were stood so close, but not yet close enough to touch.
"It's my mother," Anakin answered, staring at the water in front of them. "I keep dreaming of her, having nightmares."
His mother. Y/N knew the story, of how Qui-Gon Jinn had found him and his mother, slaves on Tatooine, how he had placed a bet with the man who owned him and had taken Anakin to learn the ways of the Jedi.
"What if we went to Tatooine?" Y/N suggested. "You have the power to free her, now."
Y/N said a farewell to the Queen of Naboo and they were on their way, flying to Tatooine. It was a peaceful trip, Y/N and Anakin sitting side by side, still close enough to touch but not quite. If she moved her hand even an inch, she would have been touching him. Would he be warm to the touch, his skin burning beneath her touch? Would his hands be rough and calloused from the years of Jedi training, or would his touch be soft?
When they landed on Tatooine, Y/N followed Anakin. He spoke to people in a tongue she couldn't understand, leaving Y/N to stand beside him, watching the interaction.
The thing that used to own Anakin directed them to a moisture farm. That was where the man who now owned Anakin's mother would be. And that meant that was where his mother would be.
They set off, heading out towards the moisture farm.
When they got there, they were met with the nicest people and the worst news. Shmi married the man who bought her and had been living with him and his son at the moisture farm. But then she was kidnapped by Tusken Raiders and nobody had seen her since.
"I have to free her," said Anakin as soon as they told him what had happened to his mother.
The suns were setting as Y/N looked at the Jedi she loved. No, not loved, not yet. "Ani," she whispered, reaching towards him. But, before her fingertips could meet his skin, she pulled away.
"Stay here, Y/N, please. They'll look after you here; they're good people," he said.
But Y/N wasn't quite ready to let him go yet. Not without a proper goodbye. Y/N grabbed the front of his Jedi robes and pulled him in. She pressed her lips to his and closed her eyes.
Taken by surprise, Anakin was stood there for just a moment before his body reacted. His hands settled on her waist and he closed his eyes, kissing her back. It was slow and sweet and tender. It was everything the two of them had been waiting for.
When Anakin pulled away, he reached up and pushed her hair out of her eyes. He didn't say anything as he left. Y/N watched him walk away. She waited until he was out of sight before returning to the moisture farm.
"What about Leia?" Asked Y/N as soon as she put down the Macrobinoculars. But then she shook her head. "It's better if I don't know."
It was one of Y/Ns greatest fears, Vader finding her and discovering the existence of their children.
"Why here?" Y/N asked as she passed back the Macrobinoculars back to Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan looked at her. "I thought it best if he grew up with family," he answered.
She spared one last look at Luke through the Macrobinoculars, still playing with his toy ship.
While Obi-Wan helped her to get Ship repaired, she hid in the cave he called him. It was a quick ordeal, Obi-Wan using Jedi mind tricks to speed the process along. He wouldn't use them for anything else, but she was desperate to get away.
It was two weeks before Y/N was flying away on Ship once again. She patted the steering mechanism, happy to have her only friend back. "Get us out of here, Ship," she said.
Ship made a series of noises. "Thanks, pal," Y/N whispered as she looked at their surroundings, the familiarity of space.
Until she crashed on Tatooine, Y/N had managed to keep track of Vader and his fleet of ships. But now, she had no idea where they were. She couldn't tell if she was flying towards them or away from them.
Vader. She remembered the day she met him. But that wasn't a story for right now. So, she thought about Anakin, about the first time he told her he loved her.
Obi-Wan was in danger. Who better to save him than his padowan learner? But Anakin didn't think so.
He had a princess to protect, and he was going to protect her with his life. Besides, they were on Tatooine and Obi-Wan was on Geonosis.
Ever since Y/N had first come to Coruscant, Obi-Wan had been kind to her. He'd protected her with his life, and it was about time she did the same.
So, she thanked Cliegg, Owen and Beru. Whether Anakin was following her or not, she marched over to their ship. "You shouldn't have taught me how to fly," she mumbled when Anakin walked onto the ship behind her, the door shutting after him.
Anakin grabbed onto a chair as Y/N flew the ship. She wasn't very good - there was a reason her future vessel was going to be something that could practically fly itself.
He took over, taking control of the ship from her. "You're not gonna turn us around, are you?" She asked, giving him the pilots seat.
Anakin shook his head. "As long as you promise to let me take the lead, we'll go save Obi-Wan. Just, stay behind me and stay out of trouble," he said. Y/N nodded, reaching for his lightsaber. But Anakin had the force - he could sense it as she reached. "No!" He called and Y/N quickly withdrew her hand.
It wasn't long beside they arrived on Geonosis. Anakin tried to be stealthy, but that wasn't Y/N's specialty. She took down the first droid she came to, stole its blaster and went charging in, head first.
Anakin couldn't stop the small grin crossing his face as he followed her. His lightsaber was drawn as he fought of droids, Y/N continuing to push forward.
And then she found herself on the droid assembly line. Jumping over and around parts, taking out droids as they were being built. It shouldn't have been fun, but it was. And Anakin could tell. He couldn't help but being distracted as she punched a droid, knocking off the head that hadn't yet been properly attached.
But then they got themselves captured. Anakins lightsaber was knocked out of his hand and several finished droids surrounded Y/N. They were well and truly screwed, blasters pushed against their backs as they were forced to walk forward.
Their hands were chained together and they were placed on a chariot. If they weren't about to die, it would have been both magnificent and romantic. But they were, almost quite literally, being marched to their deaths.
"I love you," he said before they were paraded out in front of the crowed. "I'll do whatever I can to protect you."
Y/N tried to step closer. She looked up at him as she leaned towards him. As she did, Anakin dipped his head, pressing his lips to hers. It was slow, gentle, and so full of love. His lips slotted against hers oh so perfectly, soft and pillowy.
Intoxicating. He was intoxicating. They were about to die, and Y/N couldn't think of a better way to go.
"I'd do anything for you," whispered Anakin as they were paraded around. "I'd follow you across the galaxy," he said.
Y/N leaned up to kiss him once more. "If I'm travelling across the galaxy, you'll be right there beside me."
It was hard to keep track of where Darth Vader could have been, Y/N realised as the great, large ship appeared in front of them. It was much bigger than her own, its tractor beam easily pulling them in.
He had found her.
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strawberry-whorecake · 7 months
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Hopeless | K.R.
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pairing: Kylo Ren x fem!reader
summary: Love? Kylo Ren wasn’t in love… was he? How could he be in love? How could someone like you make him feel like this?
word count: 4.4k
warnings: fluff, slight graphic depictions, swearing, kylo ren is in denial
requested by: @artemiscrios
A/N: i’m sorry this request took so long but i hope you like it !!! if you’re interested i’d be more than willing to make a pt 2 that includes smut- this prompt just felt so fitting to be a fluff
He was utterly kriffed.
He was Supreme Leader of the First Order— the man single-handedly going to bring justice to the galaxy. He was strong… powerful.
Yet here he was. And here you were. 
He remembered how everything had started.
“Eat.” he ordered, he couldn’t help the demanding tone in his voice as he looked at you. 
You sat with your back to him, refusing to look at him. “I’m not hungry.” you retorted. 
His eye twitched, but even though you wouldn’t turn to him his mask concealed it anyway. “You haven’t eaten in four days.” 
“I’m not eating anything you bring me.” you spat. 
Gods he wished you would just give in. To stop resisting him. 
With a quick-drawn and sharp inhale he keeled forward, placing the tray on the floor of your cell. He watched as your head turned ever so slightly, peering from the corner of your eyes over your shoulder. He stood to his full height, clasping his hands behind his back. 
“You’d be wise to do as you’re told. You’re not going anywhere. You have nowhere to go.” 
He’d almost thought he’d imagined it… but no. It was there. That ever so soft sniffle that gently echoed off the walls. He stood utterly still for a moment, swallowing down the urge to huff as his eye twitched again.
“Eat.” he mustered up once more. Hands still clasped behind his back he swiveled and exited your cell, his composure as collected as ever. 
But Kylo didn’t want to admit it… you enveloped him. 
He remembered your first night upon the Finalizer you were rowdy, kicking and screaming, baring your teeth and snarling. Combative. Your second day wasn’t much different. He could feel your indignation— your anger. 
The third day greeted him with the silent treatment, your newfound attempt at torturing him since you discovered your pugnaciousness got you nowhere. 
Then, day four, he could feel it. The dejection. 
You were no longer in denial nor angry, but you refused acceptance, settling yourself into despondency. 
Kylo stalked the halls, the influxes of greetings and polite bows seemed almost blurred in his mind as his brain raced a mile a minute. 
Regret? Kylo Ren didn’t feel regret— he shouldn’t feel regret. 
“We’ve acquired an escapee, Supreme Leader.” a pair of Stormtroopers dragged a shaking and writhing little thing towards him, shouting and arguing against their hold on her body. 
“Let me go! PUT ME DOWN!” sobs wracked your words, your breaths gasping as you tried to swallow down oxygen. 
He didn’t blame your hysteria. The scene unfolding before your eyes was a gruesome one. Bodies splayed the streets of Cardota, blood soaked the pavements. Structures crumbled, dust filled the air. And it was all his doing. 
He stood watching, silent, as the Stormtroopers forced you to your knees before him, you still fought against them, but the trembling made you weak in comparison to them. “Should we kill her too, Supreme Leader?” 
He parted his lips beginning to order that everyone was to be terminated— until his eyes fell onto yours.
Wide, brimming with tears of pain and anger. His words paused in his throat. You had no way of knowing, but as soon as your gazes locked, it was game over.
“No.” he ordered instead. “Release her.” 
He saw the relief flood to your system, but that’s not what he’d meant. The Stormtroopers slackened their grip as Kylo watched you fall to the ground before attempting to scramble upward. 
With an eased outstretch of his hand your movements ceased, the Force straining your muscles and pinning you to the ground, your eyes still wide, still enraged and sorrowful, but now they glimmered with a hint of confusion. 
He crouched down, waving his leather cladden hand across your face and gently ordered, “Sleep.”
Watching as you had no choice to compel, your eyes fluttered shut as your consciousness drifted away. 
“Pull out the divisions, our job here is done.” he ordered the Stormtroopers, ignoring the chorus of “Yes, Supreme Leader.” as he kept his mask locked on you. 
He swept forward, effortlessly pulling you into his arms, cradling you like a small and defenseless child. Your unconscious head laid against his rapidly beating heart, his thoughts reeling— what was he doing? 
Why did he feel this… this need to be near you— as if he wanted to protect you?
He carried you onto his ship, transferring you into a cell as he carefully, as if you’d shatter with too much pressure, laid you on the floor. 
Safe. On his ship. His. 
Kylo didn’t regret the blood that was shed, that tainted his hands. He didn’t feel sorry for any of the lives he’d taken… right?
But something possessed him— something soiled his spirits the moment he met your eyes, and it only worsened when he’d carried you in his arms.
Who were you? You were nobody, surely. Just a Cardota local girl. You had no affiliations with the war, with his plans for the galaxy— one half of him argued.
The other half begged to differ. You were someone. He could sense it within you every time he was near you, and kriff’s sake he couldn’t stand to not be near you… that was definitely something. 
But what was it about you? 
He’d whisked off to his private quarters, his mind still reeled with you— it was completely encompassed with you… why?
It infuriated him, part of him wanted to kill you, be free of the drawing compulsion he felt towards you. But he couldn’t seem to do it. Just the idea of killing you filled him with a feeling he hated more than his affliction for you. A feeling he thought he was better than to feel. 
Even on the other side of the ship he could hear into your thoughts as if you were clearly speaking to him. He could hear your indignation toward him and the hint of exhaustion in your scorn. You despised him— he’d taken everything from you. 
He crossed his chambers, ripping open the door to the private sections where the remnants of his grandfather’s mask laid awaiting him.
He crouched, not much unlike a pleading child. “Help me, Grandfather.” he whispered, his eyes shutting and his hand hovering over the mask. “Help me understand.” 
His desperate calls came unanswered, swelling a low broiling anger in his stomach. “I need to know what it is about her.” he demanded. 
Nothing. 
He ripped his eyes open, lip curling in irritation. Why was she in his head? What made her so special to make the Supreme Leader feel like this?
Practically leaping off the ground he turned his back on his grandfather’s mask, making his way to his sleeping quarters as he tugged off his own mask, throwing it with little care across the room.
He sank onto the edge of his bed, his elbows propped on his knees as he buried his face in his hands. His head throbbed and that constant simmering, slow-churning anger seeped through his skin, rolling off of him in waves.
Why her?
He was about to throw his fist into the nearest piece of furniture when something washed over him. Something replaced the meek dullness he felt. 
As he sank himself deeper into the sensation, he allowed himself to feel. Ravenous and fulfilling. 
She’s eating. 
The realization surged over him with complete understanding. He could practically feel himself sigh. 
Good. Compliance. 
He’d kept you for a while now, almost like an experiment. Testing himself, his limits around you. 
He allowed himself to feel how he felt when he was near you. Trying several different approaches— spending too much time with you, staying away from you. 
All he gathered from this was being around you calmed him, it relieved that dull rage that constantly coursed through his system, and when he left you, it’d return. 
In the time he’d kept you captive he’d learned everything he possibly could about you. Who you physically were, where and what you came from. Your lineage, your occupation on Cardota. Every fact he could absorb, he did. 
The information he wanted to know, and still didn’t— which bugged the everliving stars out of him— was why you still made him feel this way.
When he was away from you, he could feel it swelling inside him. He scrutinized himself for the way he just wanted to be in your presence again— the way he craved it. The serenity you seemed to bring.
Kylo lost sleep over you. It was pathetic. 
Every night was the endless cycle of not hearing your thoughts while your mind was at ease, caught up in the bliss and the comfort of sleep. If he focused hard enough he could hear your soft breaths. He wondered what you looked like as you slept… if you slept more pleasantly than him. 
Sleep haunted him, his demons clawed at him when his eyes shut, it was never refreshing. He wondered if you felt refreshed when you’d awaken.
He wondered if you dreamed blissfully, whereas he was cursed with nightmares. Then a thought wafted over him— you were pure.
The only time he managed to fall asleep and stop thinking of you was if he imagined holding you as you slept. 
Pathetic. He reminded himself.
You made him feel unstable yet at peace all at the same time and it drove him insane. 
He’d indulged himself in your company, even if you were begrudging. Under his mask he quirked a smirk, watching as you crossed your arms, looking around the room to anywhere but him. 
You didn’t have to speak, he could hear you nonetheless. Your thoughts. 
“You’re restless.” his modulated hum rang out. His words were direct, but his tone was gentle. 
“How long are you going to keep me here?” you bit back. 
“Where else do you have to go?” he returned.
He cursed his words as soon as he’d uttered them. That indignation, that dull ache of your own rolled off of you and onto him. 
“That wouldn’t be the case if you hadn’t raided my planet and destroyed the Hosnian system.” your tone oozed with bitterness as your hands gripped your arms.
He couldn’t help but chuckle, “You’re going to stay upset about that, are you?” 
You scoffed, “Yes.” 
“Then I regret to inform you you’ll have quite the unpleasant while.” he leaned his head back, his eyes still glued to you. 
“You could always just kill me.” you spit. 
“I’ve already told you that’s not going to happen.” his voice hardened. Your continuous pleas for him to just finish you off were growing tiresome. 
‘He’s a horrible monster in a mask- and he’s insufferable. He keeps me around like some little pet, refusing to let me go or kill me.’ your thoughts reverberated around his own skull. 
His lip quirked upwards again, entertained. 
Pet? You saw yourself as a pet to him? Oh, how delightfully wrong you were. If only you knew how you drew him in— if you only knew of the pull you had on him.
“Insufferable, am I?” he almost cooed. 
“Get out of my head.” you spat. 
Monster in a mask, he thought. Was he a monster? Maybe his actions were ‘monstrous’, but were they not justified? Every decision he’s made had led him to where he is now. 
Oh right… to being tormented by this girl. 
He stood, eyeing you for a moment as you watched him, swallowing down your hopes for his departure. Funny you’re not used to his company by now. 
“Monster in a mask…” he repeated your thoughts back to you, earning a disinterested hum in response. 
“You can’t deny your curiosity.” As he looked at you, you looked at him. His hands seemed to move on their own accord. They found the edges of his mask, and with an eased sweep he pulled it from his head. His eyes fell on you— and your eyes looked into his, unconcealed for the first time. 
He watched your eyes drift over his features, soaking in his appearance. He ignored the way his heart rate picked up. You were quiet, completely thoughtless for a moment, and he couldn’t hold back his smirk. He’d taken you by surprise. 
“I suppose it’s time we met, face to face… after all, you’re not going anywhere any time soon.” His eyes drifted over you, soaking you in as he set his mask on the cot he’d been sitting.
He relished in the soft little hiccup sound you made at hearing his unmodulated voice. How your eyes gently widened and how your heart skipped a beat. 
But as quickly as these appeared they faded. Changed into something else—
Confusion, he finally recognized.
“What do you want with me?” you piped up, making him cock his head in intrigue. “You won’t kill me, you won’t let me go… so what is it you want?” 
A little voice in his head seemed to speak up for him, You, but he quickly stifled its words. 
“I want to know why you have this hold on me.” he spoke truthfully. 
He watched as your forehead crumpled but your eyes remained wide in disbelief. “Hold I have on you!?” you practically squeaked. He nodded, “Yes.” 
You scoffed, which normally he’d have taken offense to, but it oddly piqued his interest. “You’re holding me captive.” you reminded him. 
“Yes, I’m aware of the circumstances.” he clasped his hands behind his back, still not removing his gaze from you, and it pleased him that you didn’t shy away from looking back. 
He looked to the ground for a moment as he took a sweeping step forward, bringing himself closer to you, his eyes falling on you again as you looked up at him from the floor. 
“What is it you’ve inflicted on me?” he asked, utterly serious, and a twinge of annoyance struck him as you let out an incredulous laugh. 
“Why is it that you are all I can think about? That when I’m around you I find myself at ease?” His expression hardened as he spoke, his eyes almost glaring. His desperation for the truth was affecting him. 
There was a beat as you stared at him and he looked back at you. “Tell me.” he ordered.
You scoffed again, “I don’t know what this obsession is you have with me- but I didn’t inflict you with anything.”
Obsession? Surely it wasn’t obsession… right?
He stared at you, his eyes still slightly glaring as he looked at you just as incredulously as you looked at him. 
“Why?” he asked again. 
Your brows furrowed as you shook your head. “I don’t know why you’re in love with me!? Gods you’re insufferable!” you spat.
His brows raised before he let out an almost jeering laugh. “In love with you? I couldn’t be farther from in love with you.” 
You looked at him for a long moment, his gaze locked on yours as you both silently sized each other up. 
“Let me go then.” you finally broke the silence. Your words took him aback, not that he wasn’t expecting them, but they did manage to surprise him. 
“That’s not happening.” he turned away from you, shaking his head. He heard you scoff once more, but he ignored it. Your rising agitation only made the feeling gurgle within him, and he knew his visitation for the day was over. 
He pulled his helmet back on, looking at you for a moment. When you’d turned your head, crossing your arms once more, he tutted softly before exiting your cell. 
He remembered how his mind had reeled as he retired from your cell. 
In love? In love?! 
What did the Supreme Leader need with love?! It was preposterous. First Order sympathizers looked up to him, practically ate out of his palm. He could have the whole galaxy and he would soon enough, so what did he need with love?
The word ‘love’ reverberated around his brain like a blaster shot bouncing around a contained room. 
He didn’t feel love– the idea that he did brought a low boil of anger to his gut. Love was useless to him, how dare you suggest he was in love with you.
Sure, he’d give it to you, maybe he was a little obsessed with you, with the way you made him feel– but him in love with you? No way. He refused to accept it. 
He needed to reach out to his grandfather again, to beg for answers. He needed to know why it felt like you had him in your grip when he was the one with the hold on you. 
Crouched once again on the floor before his grandfather’s mask, his hand hovering above it, he pleaded out. “Please, Grandfather. I need to understand.” 
His desperations came answered, but not in the way he expected– or the way he was ready for. 
He was met with a vision of your eyes on him again, looking into his eyes. He saw you reach out for him and he wanted to cower away, but he just couldn’t seem to do it, and a moment later he found your hand in his before he pulled you tightly to his body. 
He held you for a long moment, and he almost swore he could actually feel you against him, but as soon as he thought he could, you vanished from his grip and he was filled with a feeling of longing and emptiness. 
‘Love’ echoed around his brain again. 
“Fuck.” his eyes shot open and his hand withdrew rapidly from above his grandfather’s mask. He recalled the way he’d met you, the way he felt when he first looked into your eyes. 
The obsession he had for you, the way he wanted to protect you, how he felt at ease in your company. 
He wanted to ravish you, show you things you’d never experience without him. He wanted to watch your eyes light up as he showed you unseen parts of the galaxy… from beside him. 
The draw he had to you… it was… love. 
What was he to do with this realization? Surely you couldn’t love him back— for stars sake he took you captive. You were prisoner on his ship. 
How could he make you see he only did what he did because he was, in fact, in love with you?
That’s when things changed. That’s when Kylo extended an olive branch and after a while, you accepted it. That’s why you were where you were now and Kylo Ren was completely and utterly kriffed. He was Supreme Leader of the entire galaxy… he could have anything— he could get anything, what did he need with you? Why did he need you?
Yet here you were. In his quarters, lying beside him in his bed, so sweet and gently sleeping.
As soon as you willingly moved from your quarters to his, he knew it there was no use arguing how he felt. While he was comforted by your presence, so much so as to almost lure him to sleep, he couldn’t stop himself from peering through his closed eyes at you every time you rolled over, sighed, groaned softly– or worse– moved closer to him. 
You moved restlessly as you slept, and it slightly annoyed Kylo, that’s why he couldn’t seem to stop himself when he threw his arms around you and tugged you against his chest, keeping you pinned against him. But to his surprise, you stilled. And you stayed that way as long as he held you. 
He constantly wracked his brain wondering why you’d meant so much to him. You were a prisoner, you were his captive. And yet without you knowing, you had him wrapped around your finger. Why? What was it about you that drew him into you– and after a while, you into him? 
Regret.
You should hate him, he’d hated himself. Not only for what he’d done, but for what he did to you. He’d taken everything from you and left only him for you to know, so why did you give in?
He remembered that switch in your brain. When you finally stopped fighting him– wanting to escape, being defensive and aggressive– and you gave in. As if you’d accepted that he was your new normal, and you didn’t fight it, in fact, you welcomed it. Why? What changed?
Was it him? He supposed he had been trying to be nicer to you. He granted you your own quarters, he allowed you to have a little more freedom, all the while you were his prisoner.
Maybe it was when he opened up and he talked to you. He told you all about his desires and his aspirations not just for himself, but for the galaxy… and you listened. He liked that you didn’t just accept everything he said, that you were a little combative. That you argued against his means and questioned his motives.
He wasn’t sure why, but you liked listening to him talk, and even more confusing, he liked talking to you.
He couldn’t seem to help himself from telling you anything and everything, even the minute details about his life such as what he ate for breakfast, and what his favorite color was. He liked that you listened, really listened.
You didn’t listen like everyone else who just accepted what he said as fact. You listened and processed what he’d tell you, and you’d respond.
He also liked that you weren’t afraid of him. Not anymore at least, though, he’d argue you never really were. Even the moment he took you on board the Finalizer, you never once showed him you were afraid of him. You were strong. Something else he supposed he liked about you.
He could easily destroy you, and in a way he had, but he didn’t want to, at least not anymore. Something about you made him want to protect you, to care for you. Why?
You thrashed gently in his arms, tearing his attention down to you. When his eyes met yours he found you looking up at him with your tired, but ever so gorgeous eyes. 
“Do you ever sleep?” you hummed half-consciously. “No.” he said mostly jokingly, though his tone was firm and serious. He was relieved when a small smile pulled on your pretty lips anyways.
“I don’t keep you up, do I?” you yawned, shifting in his arms a little. He froze– you were worried about him? His lips parted to speak, to question why you cared, but he couldn’t seem to find the means to ask. 
“No. If anything I sleep better when you’re near.” 
This time you froze– and he scrutinized himself. Why did he say that? Why did he think that was something he should’ve ever admitted?
Time seemed to slow as you looked up at him, and him down at you. Part of him argued to let you go, release you from his hold, but the other half of him begged to pull you closer.
You pulled away from his arms, and he hated the way it felt like his heart sank– how he felt disappointed, but he acted as if it didn’t bother him as he watched you pull yourself up on your arms. He feigned a look of indifference as you looked at him, your emotions so strong he could feel them radiating off of you. 
Confusion, intrigue… want.
Then you did the unthinkable. Your hand gently met his cheek and he had to fight the urge to snatch your hand off and push you away, after all, he didn’t want to scare you, not anymore.
He watched as your eyes fell from his to where your hand laid against his cheek, then they moved to his lips.
Just enough time passed for his heartbeat to quicken and thump against his ribcage before you leaned in and your lips were on his. 
He stilled for a moment, watching, waiting as you took the lead, but he finally allowed himself to kiss you back.
When you pulled away you both eyed each other, like you were silently sizing the other up. “Why did you do that?” he asked, breaking the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.
“To see what you’d do.” you answered as if it was the most obvious answer in the galaxy. When his eye twitched slightly, you giggled, “Well? How do you feel?” you asked, as you pulled your hand away from his cheek.
Hopeless.
Kylo Ren— Supreme Leader of the galaxy felt hopeless.
Hopelessly in love with you. 
You possessed him, you made him feel things that he swore he’d never feel again. He was supposed to be angry, cruel, the embodiment of revenge and power… and yet he was in love with you. 
He wanted to give you everything. He’d pluck every star from the galaxy for you if it meant he’d get to see that smile of yours, to see the way your eyes would sparkle. He needed you. 
He snatched up your face with much more haste than he’d meant, but it didn’t matter. He needed to feel your lips on his again, to feel the feeling of you against him and the way everything felt right when you were near.  And you didn’t fight. 
You let him as he wrapped his free arm around your waist, tugging your body against his as his lips pressed to yours. 
He kissed like he was a drowning man and you were the smallest bit of oxygen that would give him a second wind to keep going. Because that’s how you made him feel. 
Kylo Ren was drowning. Drowning in responsibilities, in expectations of what he needed to do and who he should be, but around you, Kylo Ren could breathe. 
All responsibilities and expectations died away, and he could simply be. 
Your arms tangled around his neck, pulling yourself impossibly closer as your lips worked in synchronization, each of you battling for the upper hand to kiss with the most passion. To kiss with love. 
As much as it didn’t make sense to him— you did. Everything felt at ease with you, and here and now, he was finally accepting that he didn’t need to fight it. That everything you made him feel wasn’t weakness, but that you gave him an unknown source of strength. 
You were intoxicating. He couldn’t even pinpoint what it was about you that he liked the most. He liked you as a whole. You pulled him in and made him feel safe… like he belonged, something he wasn’t sure he’d ever truly felt.
You were supposed to be his, he was supposed to have you wrapped around his finger, eating out of his hand, but he was so wrong.
You didn’t know it, and he may not be ready to tell you, but he was yours.
Kylo Ren was yours.
789 notes · View notes
episodone · 25 days
Text
HAIR TIE
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SYNOPSIS: It was a heated day back in Coruscant and your body was starting to give up. With your long hair making the situation worse, Anakin decides to be of help.
PAIRING: rots!anakin x fem!reader ( implied )
CONTENT WARNING: established relationship, a bit of swearing, teasing, a whole lot of fluff, reader is implied to have long hair, anaking being a bit suggestive but nothing major
WORD COUNT: 857 ( i think … )
AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi everyone!! wow … here’s my first ever work on this account ? this is a special moment for me, okay !! anyways, i really hope you all enjoy whatever this turns out to be! this is also my first time writing properly with upper case letters so this is weird to me .. also please excuse any mistakes ! this was written by a very sleepy lily …
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You had experienced long hot days before, but never something quite like this one. The heat was insufferable back in Coruscant, and as much as you would love to complain about it, you couldn’t. The Jedi Temple was nice enough for having a cooling down system for all of the Jedi’s inside to enjoy, and it seemed to be working for everyone, except for you.
Training was getting harder for your body. You could feel sweat drops running down your face and you muscles wanting to give up due to the temperature. You felt vulnerable, which wasn’t usual of you. Even your Padawan was giving you weird looks from time to time, but you decided to brush them off. For all that matters, your Jedi robes and cloak weren’t helping, either.
You weren’t one to back down on your trainings, and you wanted to persist in the duel against your Padawan, trying to give them as much knowledge in lightsaber fights as you possibly could. That was you purpose, after all. But enough was enough, even for you. Just as you were about to call out for a break, they were faster than you. You thanked Maker it was over and granted them to leave the room to cool down and rest and you decided to do the same yourself shortly after, running outside. While walking down the long hallway, with your heavy chest panting from the heat, a familiar voice calls out for you.
“Here’s my pretty girl.” a tall figure makes its way to your side and you look up to see Anakin, as perfect as ever. Not a single drop of sweat on his face and biggest grin ever while looking at you, like the heat doesn’t even bother him. How you envied him in that moment.
“Not here, Ani. Someone could hear you.” you look to your sides, searching for any sign of life besides you two that could compromise this moment, and Anakin watches you with a glint in his eyes.
“As far as I’m concerned, everyone is too focused on cooling down right now rather than look for forbidden couples walking around the Temple together.” you turn to him with an unamused look and playfully hit his arm as he only laughs at you.
“You should probably do the same, my love. It seems the heat is taking a toll on you.”
“Very funny, Anakin. Not everyone looks as perfect as you after a long session of training under the warmth.” You curse under you breath by how unaffected he was, with his perfect blonde locks and perfect smooth skin with no signs of tiredness. How confident he seemed when his whole body was stinging, begging for a breath of cold air.
“So you think I’m perfect?” he turns to you with a teasing smile and you scoff in response.
“Don’t let it get to your head, Skywalker.” you answer bluntly and he smiles at you, inspecting your figure.
“No hair up today?” he asks and you turn to him, clearly confused.
“What?”
“Your hair. Since it’s so hot, I thought you would put up your hair.”
Oh. That’s right. Your hair. Your forgot about that one little detail. How were supposed to manage the heat better if you hair was blocking your neck from all the cooling around? Now you know why your Padawan was giving you funny looks. What kind of person in their right minds would walk around with their hair down on an extreme heat day?
You quickly sense around your pulses for a hair tie, only to find out that you forgot about them in your dorm earlier today.
“Kriff.” you mumble. “I forgot my hair ties this morning.”
You think back to who could borrow you one for the day. A fellow female Jedi around the Temple. The one’s you didn’t know so well, unfortunately. While your mind runs through the endless options and the embarrassment that would come with you asking, you hair gets suddenly lift up.
You try to look back to see what happened but you’re stopped by Anakin, who now holds your hair with one of his hands in a makeshift ponytail.
“Wait.” his other hand sneaks around your waist, stopping you in your tracks. A sense of relief washes over you as a breath of cold hair spreads around your neck and shoulders. You instinctively close your eyes to the feeling, letting out a deep sigh. Pink tinted blush creeps up your cheeks at the thought of Anakin behind you, his lips puckered up and busy being your savior of the day. You stayed in that positions for a few second until air flow suddenly stops, making you flutter your eyes open.
“Better?” his voice makes a smile creep up your face and you shyly nod in response.
“Yeah... Thank you.” you feel his strong arm pull you closer to him as he drops sloppy kisses to the area he just cooled down, smiling between each peck.
“You should really start bringing your hair ties with you, my love.” he mumbles against your skin and you nod, savoring the moment as he was savoring your skin. “I can’t walk around like this all day.” he shakes your hair in his hand and you smile at him, a teasing glint in your eyes.
“You should start bringing them too, you know. With how long your hair is right now.” The kisses suddenly stop and you feel a hand pinching the side of your waist, making you giggle.
“Don’t make me drop your hair already.”
“Please don’t.”
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gloomwitchwrites · 2 months
Text
A Clone's Future
CT-7567 Captain Rex x Female Reader
Content & Trigger Warnings: fluff, physical hurt/comfort, light angst, happy ending, domestic elements, brief suggestive themes, kiss, Anakin & Fives make an appearance
Word Count: 4.1k
Rex is a soldier of the Republic. A clone. And it is not worth daydreaming about what it would be like to have a family. But he does just that, not knowing that there is someone out in the galaxy waiting for him.
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“I saw you eyeing that woman at Seventy Nines.”
Rex glances up from his datapad and flushes, rubbing the back of his neck. Fives grins down at Rex, arms crossed over his chest, one hip slightly popped.
“It was nothing,” mutters Rex, stepping around Fives’ comment.
The corner of Fives’ mouth quirks as he tries to hide a knowing smile. “Nothing? You were practically drooling,” laughs Fives, gently tossing his helmet on the bunk next to Rex’s. “Why didn’t you approach her?”
Rex blinks, confused. “Why would I?”
Fives shakes his head. “She was staring at you too, Captain. We all saw it.”
Rex looks back at the datapad, wanting to be done with this conversation. “And if I talked to her, what then?”
Fives shrugs. “You talk to a beautiful woman. Flirt a bit.” Fives leans in and Rex glances up from the datapad. “Slip into a dark corner for some—”
“That’s enough, Fives,” interjects Rex, his stomach twisting with understanding.
Fives pats Rex’s shoulder and then plops down next to Rex in the bunk. “This war is going to end. What do you plan to do after its over?”
What is he going to do? Rex hasn’t even thought about it. Hasn’t given the idea any life. Rex is a soldier of the Republic. Duty comes first. It always does. Thinking about the future when that future is entirely uncertain will only create heartache in the end.
“Haven’t thought about it,” answers Rex truthfully. Maybe Fives will drop this, and Rex can return to reading the latest war reports.
“Why not?” asks Fives, clearly not interested in moving on.
Rex’s grip on the sides of the datapad tightens.
Why not? Because fantasizing about the future in any capacity leaves Rex vulnerable and open to the realities of his situation. His family are his fellow clones. They are his brothers. All the family he needs is right here. Why would he ever need to consider anything beyond what is already in front of him?
“I don’t see the point,” answers Rex. “We don’t know when this war will end.” He pauses. “And some days we aren’t sure if we’ll even see tomorrow.”
Fives snorts. “That’s the whole reason why you should.”
“Fives—”
“We’re alive, Rex. We are people and we feel. We may serve the Republic, but we deserve to dream like the citizens we protect.” Fives reaches for his helmet and holds it reverently in his lap, the front side facing him. “In peacetime, we deserve a bit of happiness.”
Rex is silent a moment before he speaks. “Are you not happy now, Fives?”
Fives glances up and grins. “I’m happy, Rex. But happiness during peacetime is…different. I want to know what that looks like for us. Dreaming about it isn’t wrong.”
Rex didn’t say that it was wrong, but he’s not going to point that out to Fives.
Fives taps the edge of the helmet against his knee, sighing as he stands. “I’ll leave you to your boring war reports, Rex.” At the door, Fives turns, and grins mischievously. “Next time, if she’s there, you’re talking to her.”
The door to the room whooshes open, and Fives disappears into the hall. When it shuts, Rex is left in the lingering silence, the only sound that of the air filtration system. It hums softly, a dull buzz in the background.
Whenever his mind drifts toward the future—which is almost never—Rex rarely allows himself to linger. Maybe it’s because of his position, and that there are thousands counting on him to lead them. So many of his brothers look to him for guidance, even ones from other sections of GAR. He and Cody are always discussing strategies and offering advice.
Rex tries to live in the moment, to focus on what matters right now. But what Fives said is sinking in, lurking at the back of his mind, and drawing his attention away from the datapad in his hands.
This room is a small barracks area, one for captains and other ranked members of the Clone Army can go to rest. No one else is in here. It’s just him. They’re stationed on Coruscant, waiting to depart for a months long campaign. Rex and the rest of the 501st have some time to relax before returning to the battlefield.
Yes, they did go to 79’s last night. Yes, Rex may have had one too many strong drinks. And yes, Rex couldn’t stop staring at the woman giving him flirtatious glances all night.
Rex might be a clone but he’s still a man.
Locking the datapad, Rex sighs heavily, placing it on the edge of the bed. Tiredness sits in his bones, and Rex gives in to the exhaustion, bringing his legs onto the bunk and laying on his back. He stares at the bunk above him, at the smooth, plain metal, and tries his best to forget everything.
Tries is the key word.
Rex does try, but he cannot stop thinking about Fives and what he said.
He slips unexpectedly, falling into that space, considering the future.
The woman Rex pictures in his mind is faceless. He does not consider her features, or what her hair might be like. He does not consider whether this fictional woman is human or Twi’lek or any other species. Instead, Rex contemplates what he needs in someone else. Would she be soft and kind, someone to smooth out his sharp edges, to help him forget the realities of war, and linger in a calmness that soothes his soul? Or is she sharp witted, adventurous, willing to explore the galaxy and isn’t afraid of danger?
Or is she something else entirely?
Rex floats in the possibilities, of what this woman might be like and what she’d mean to him. Would General Skywalker want to meet her? Would he approve? Is it even allowed to him after the war ends? Will the clones have the right to enjoy the things the citizens of the Republic do?
These questions form in his head quickly but evaporate just as fast. Rex imagines warm arms around him, of knowing that there is always someone waiting for him, to share in all his failures and successes. It is a wonderful sensation, a calming sense of peace that ushers into his head and curls itself around him to take hold.
The physical isn’t entirely important to Rex, but he considers it anyway. He conjures up multiple images, giving the faceless woman hair then lekku then hair again, even picturing the woman he couldn’t stop glancing at while at 79’s. These thoughts bring the woman in his head to life a bit more, as if he’s stoking a fire, protecting the flame from extinguishing.
With his eyes closed, Rex imagines soft hands holding his, moving to his wrists and arms to eventually cradle his cheek. Rex sighs audibly, pretending that there is someone next to him in this bed, curled up against his side with their head on his chest.
But when he reaches across his chest to seek this someone out, his fingers only find empty air.
Rex’s eyelids slowly open, and a heaviness fills his chest. This is why Rex does not entertain thoughts of the future. This is why he lives in the present moment and focuses on the immediate needs of his soldiers and the Republic.
It’s self-indulgent. Unnecessary. That is what Rex tells himself as he turns on his side and tries to find some sleepful peace in the dark.
These streets are a maze, and Rex is utterly lost.
His personal communicator is crushed, and there are slavers on his trail. General Skywalker has no idea that Rex is being pursued. He has no idea that Rex took a blaster shot to the leg or that he’s limping along as he attempts to hide from his assailants.
This is supposed to be an undercover job, a way to figure out where an entire village full of Twi’leks were taken to after disappearing. While General Skywalker pretends to be a slaver interested in buying, Rex’s job is to find another way into where the Twi’leks are being held.
The whole thing fell apart. Crashed. Burnt up like an asteroid entering the atmosphere.
Behind him, his pursuers shout, and people scream. They’re closer than before, and Rex needs to find shelter. He needs to throw them off and return to General Skywalker.
He slips in a puddle, nearly stumbling into a pile of trash.
“Kriffing hell,” mutters Rex, staggering, placing one hand against the side of a building to balance himself.
His chest heaves and his leg is screaming, needing to rest.
Their pounding footsteps grow closer, and Rex takes off, dragging his leg along as he turns the corner. It’s shadowy here, and the street is long and narrow. There is nothing for him to hide in or around. The street is lined with residential buildings. There are entry doors and a few windows on the bottom level, but that won’t give him protection.
Desperation sinks in. Rex tries a few of the nearby doors, receiving no response.
There is a shout from the direction of where Rex just came from. “This way!”
Rex growls with frustration. He turns away from the door of one house, only to freeze when he notices the young woman in an open doorway.
“In here. Quickly.”
Rex glances back once and considers the alternative.
Kriff it, he thinks, entering the dimly lit home, the door whooshing shut behind him. Rex’s leg almost gives out beneath him, a sharp pain shooting up his side. He grunts, starts to double over, and his potential savior comes to him, placing their hands upon him gently.
Realizing that there is another person, Rex glances up quickly, the instinct to survive flaring white and hot and bright.
He finds…you.
And it is not what he expects. Because—no. Rex smothers the thought immediately.
There is a shout right outside the door, and you place a firm hand on Rex’s chest, easing him down toward the floor while holding a single finger up for silence. Rex doesn’t say a word, his gaze flicking between you and the door, and back again.
The voices soften, and then Rex doesn’t hear them at all.
When you sigh with relief, Rex relaxes a bit, knowing that he’s been spared some extra time.
But you? You are a mystery to him. Friend? Or foe?
“You’re hurt.” It’s not a question and Rex immediately likes the sound of your voice. “Heard the shouts,” you continue. “Saw you limping.”
Rex swallows. “Why are you helping me?”
Your smile is soft with a hint of mischievousness. “Do you think I like living amongst slavers?”
Rex shrugs. “Wasn’t really on my mind,” he admits.
“That’s fair,” you laugh. “They rarely treat the people who live here much different from the people they sell. I don’t mind disrupting things for them when I can.”
Friend, then.
Rex can work with that.
You glance down at his leg and frown. Your hand hovers just above the spot where the blaster bolt struck his thigh. Rex grimaces as the pain flares anew, like it knows he’s finally safe and demands immediate treatment.
“Can you stand on it?” you ask gently, placing one hand on Rex’s shoulder. Your palm is warm and a flood of comfort bursts inside him like a dam breaking.
What is it about you that’s different? Why does his body respond to you like he’s safe when his brain can’t seem to make the same connection?
Rex knows but stifles the thought again.
“Was running on it,” jokes Rex, trying to make light of that fact that the pain is a throbbing thing that won’t cease.
The smile you give him is so tooth-rottenly sweet that Rex feels heat warming his cheeks.
“Humor. That’s good.” You lean in a bit and Rex is immediately flustered by your closeness. “Means you’ll live.”
You present your hands, palms upward. They look so soft, so inviting, and Rex accepts. You help him to a fully seated position before sliding an arm around his waist to assist him to his feet. Rex drapes an arm over the back of your shoulders as the two of you hobble along.
You lead Rex into a small bedroom. The bed itself is unmade; the sheets tossed around like you’ve slipped out just to come to his rescue. For some reason, Rex pictures this happening, and then quickly dismisses it.
Easing onto the bed is hell, and Rex winces as you help him to his back. Thankfully, Rex isn’t wearing his armor, which will make tending to the wound much easier.
“May I take a look?”
Rex nods and you seat yourself next to him on the edge of the bed. When your hands touch his thigh, a shiver runs through him like an electrical current. You hum softly as you lightly press around the spot of the burn. Rex tries to stay calm, but in this prone position, Rex is only focused on your face.
He learns the line and curves, all your small tells, and the subtle way you tilt your head as you observe him. On Kamino—on any Republic vessel really—most of the medical care is run by droids, Kaminoans, and clones. It is mainly automated. Impersonal.
This isn’t.
You’re so close and delicate, taking so much care with him that Rex is void of words, only wanting you to keep giving him this attention. That memory, the one where he imagined what he wants creeps up unexpectedly, choking him.
Is this the feeling that Fives talked about? Is this the pull, the tug of what it means to try and find happiness outside of just duty to the Republic? Or is Rex only indulging himself while in the hands of a stranger?
“I have some bacta spray and bandages. I’ll be back in a moment.” When you stand, a momentary wave of panic grips Rex out of nowhere, stunning him.
What the kriffing hell is going on with him?
You’re back within a minute, placing the small box next to you as you return to your previous spot on the bed. Rex is instantly calm, relaxing as you consider where you want to begin.
“Could—” you pause. “It would be easier if the pants weren’t in the way. I can cut them or—”
“It’s fine,” replies Rex. “I can…remove them.”
Your eyes widen. “No. I didn’t mean—”
“Oh—”
“But if you want—”
“It’s—”
“I can cut it.”
“Yes,” nods Rex, relieved. “Yes.” Rex could start a fire with how hot his cheeks are.
With delicate fingers, you slowly cut away a perfect rectangle in his pants where the blaster burn is. Placing the cutters aside, you remove the bacta spray from the box.
“It’ll be cold.”
“I know,” answers Rex quickly.
Your eyebrows rise toward your hairline. “Is it normal for you to be hit by blaster fire?”
Kriff me.
“It’s a hazard of the job,” says Rex slowly.
Your lips part like you’re about to say something and then think better of it. “I won’t ask.” Your smile speaks to quiet amusement, and it feels like this one look is only for him. That this is something the two of you are sharing. That no one else is allowed to see inside.
The hiss of the bottle fills the room, and Rex momentarily flinches as the bacta spray hits his burn. Once done, you withdraw a gauze pad. With the other hand, you gently reach for Rex, lifting his own hand.
“Hold this for me,” you murmur, and the sound of your voice is so soft that Rex cannot resist your command.
Rex does as you ask, keeping the gauze pad pressed to the covered blaster burn. You unspool some bandages, and then begin wrapping his leg. You do not go over the pants. Instead, you slide your hand into the opening you created, guiding the end of the bandages underneath to the other side of his thigh.
It all feels too intimate, and Rex can’t help but linger on how close your hand is to something else.
“You can move your hand now.”
“Right,” mutters Rex, blinking quickly, trying to stare at the ceiling but failing completely.
Your subdued giggle draws his attention back to your face. Tying off the bandages, Rex mourns the loss of your hands when you draw away.
“All done.” You grin, and Rex melts. “I’ll grab you water and something to eat. We can talk after. Figure out a plan.”
We, as if it’s completely natural for you to help him, a stranger.
You bring him water first, and then go back to the small cooking unit, digging around for a pan to cook with while also grabbing ingredients. You shouldn’t do this for him, and yet you are. Rex’s military training tells him to be on guard, to be weary of you even if you’re showing him kindness. But that doesn’t sit right with him. Questioning your motivations taste wrong on his tongue, like he’s the bad person in this situation.
Watching you there next to the cooking unit, tending to him, it draws forth those memories again. Everything about this is too…domestic. Him reclining in bed as someone takes care of him for once is such a foreign thing. Odd. Almost forbidden.
He drifts, allows his mind to daydream of what a life like this could be like. With him, at rest for once, and someone close to him, wanting to do things for him just because they desire to do so.
But Rex doesn’t just think of someone. He thinks of you, and he sinks further and further into the daydream until the Republic, the war, and everything else in his life is a distant point in the galaxy.
But Rex needs to find General Skywalker. And you are a distraction. Healing is important but contacting Skywalker is even more urgent.
The meal you bring him is hot and so kriffing fresh that Rex nearly moans with pleasure. He could get used to this.
“Is it too intrusive to ask why you were running?” you ask, clasped hands resting in your lap. You’re sitting in the same spot on the edge of the bed, not opting to grab a chair or to sit anywhere else.
“I was poking around where I shouldn’t. Got caught.” Rex takes another bite and it’s better than the last.
“Are you alone? Or is there someone I can try to contact for you?” You shrug. “Don’t think it’s a good idea to turn you loose in the streets.”
“No,” laughs Rex. “Bad idea.” Your slightly embarrassed smile pleases him. While Rex ponders that, he also realizes he doesn’t know your name. “Here I am eating your food and sleeping in your bed. And I didn’t ask you your name.”
You give it without question and ask him the same. Rex considers whether or not he should tell you his real name or the fake one General Skywalker gave him for the job.
“It’s Rex,” he finally answers.
“Rex,” you say, as if rolling it around on your tongue, considering it and him, almost testing it out. Rex likes the way you say it. There is a soft sigh in the way you breathe his name. “Rex.”
“Just Rex.”
“Okay, Just Rex.”
He nearly chokes with laugher on the next bite of food. Once he clears his throat, Rex decides to be as honest as he can. “I’m traveling with someone. I need to find them.”
“I’ll go,” you say. “You shouldn’t leave.” Even though you’re staring at him, you still reach out and place a hand on his knee. You don’t break eye contact, and the earnestness is startling.
Rex gives you General Skywalker’s fake name and where you might find him. “It might be dangerous,” he says, trying to iterate the severity of the situation.
You squeeze his knee with a smile and stand, going to the closet to dig around. When you turn around, you hold up a large blaster. “I can handle myself.”
Using the strap, you secure it over your chest, the blaster hanging to the side. “I’ll be back. Don’t open the door for anyone.” You give him a little salute and Rex watches you leave through the front door.
The healing agent in the bacta spray and the need for rest creeps up. When the food is gone, Rex places the bowl to the side, slipping back into the daydream.
“Sleeping, Rex?”
Rex nearly launches himself off the bed. “General Skywalker,” he breathes, relief flooding his chest.
In the small doorway, you stand quietly, hands clasped tightly in front of your chest. You found him and even brought Skywalker with you.
He stops next to the side of the bed. “Glad you’re okay.”
Rex shrugs. “You would have come for me eventually.”
General Skywalker grins and nods his head. “That I would, Rex. I don’t like leaving my men behind. Especially you.” He glances at you standing in the doorway, and then turns back to Rex, one eyebrow arching in question. Rex nods, acknowledging Skywalker’s silent ask.
He exhales and approaches you. “Thank you. For taking care of my friend.” General Skywalker’s inclines his head in your direction.
“Of course. It’s nothing. Really.”
Skywalker holds out his hand and Rex clasps it. He drags Rex up to a seated position. “How’s the leg?”
“It’ll heal,” answers Rex. It’s already feeling better with the bacta spray on it.
“Can you walk?”
Rex stands. Wobbles. Remains upright. “I can manage, General.”
Skywalker glances at Rex’s torn pants. “We need to fix that.” He starts to remove his outer cloak and Rex shakes his head. “Don’t question it, Rex.”
Rex reluctantly grabs the cloak from General Skywalker and wraps it around himself, hiding the blaster burn. You step out of the way of the door to allow them exit. Rex’s glances at you and your lips turn upward.
At the door, Rex pauses, wanting to stay just a few minutes longer. “Thank you,” he says softly.
“Just avoid blaster bolts. If you can. For me.”
The back of Rex’s neck heats up and he exits the small house with a nod of his head. When the door whooshes shut, General Skywalker’s muted grin turns devilish.
“What?” asks Rex, flustered.
“You like her,” says Skywalker.
“I—I don’t.” Rex straightens his shoulders. “Why do you think that?”
General Skywalker taps the side of his head with one finger. “Jedi.”
“Sir. That explains nothing.”
“The feeling is mutual, Rex,” calls Skywalker over his shoulder as he starts walking down the street.
Rex nearly trips. “What’s mutual?” he asks, already knowing what his general means but not wanting to admit it to himself. General Skywalker gestures in the direction of your home. “No,” blurts Rex. “That’s not true.”
General Skywalker’s knowing grin is enough to silence him.
“You’ll see her again, Rex. I have a good feeling about it.”
“You’re doing a good thing, Rex. Even if you can’t always see it.” Your fingers slide over his jaw to gently cup his cheek. Rex leans into the touch, sighing heavily. “Saving one is an accomplishment, and you have rescued so many.”
After the Republic fell, and Rex and Ahsoka parted ways, he came to find you, only to bring you along with him on his journey to save his brothers’. You’re not on the frontlines, standing by his side in Imperial complexes, executing daring rescues. Rex wouldn’t allow that of you even if you insisted. You’re good with a blaster but you’re no soldier and losing you might shatter him.
Instead, you stay on Coruscant, awaiting each of his returns, ready to take care of, and look after, any clones Rex brings back with him. You never complain. Never waiver. You are his rock, a home for him to find a bit of peace from the unending injustices of the galaxy.
With your hand upon his cheek, you lean into him, resting your forehead against the side of his temple. “You’re a good man, Rex. I know that you know that.”
Rex’s fingers intertwine with yours. Bringing your hand up to his face, he gently kisses every knuckle and each finger. Sighing, you press lightly on his cheek, guiding Rex’s face in your direction. There is no brief pause or wanton hesitation. Rex knows where he stands with you, and his lips meet with your own in perfect satisfaction.
The future he dreamed of is here, with you, while rescuing his brothers.
The Empire is vast. It is powerful. But he is not alone. And that, the shared experience of companionship, is a hope in the face of a looming darkness.
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Text
Sorry Not Sorry
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Warnings: Minors dni!! fingering, slight name calling (nothing super harsh) (oral, f receiving) slight choking, hair pulling. dirty talk. p in v, unprotected rough sex. (don't be silly, wrap that willy) smut, smut, smut!! and some fluff towards the end
Pairings: Anakin Skywalker x F reader
A/N: I really love the way this came out. It literally took forever because I wanted it to be perfect!! shoutout to my bestie for helping on some parts. n e ways, I hope you all love it as much as I do :))))
Word Count: 2.1k
~~
While you and Anakin were both out on a mission, you had the urge to be a bit devious; payback one would call it.  He had been getting on your nerves during the flight home seeing that he was frustrated about the mission not going the way he wanted it to.
You figured why not make his day as miserable as he’s made yours? 
It truly wouldn't be that hard to make him even more frustrated, something as simple as disobeying him in front of the others would set him off. You smirked at the thought of that. You knew by doing so, you'd deal with the consequences later.. in the bedroom. 
Later on that day, Anakin had asked you to do something and with no hesitation, you simply said no. This took him by surprise, only because he's never experienced this kind of attitude from you. 
“Excuse me? Did I hear you correctly?" He asked, his tone low. 
You looked at him with a smug expression on your face. “You heard me correctly, I said no." This caused you to receive a look from him. You paid no attention to him and continued on with what you were doing. As you sat quietly, wishing the ride home would go by faster. 
What you hadn’t noticed was Anakin had sat next to you and moved closer to you at some point. He was so close to you that you could feel his lips brush against your earlobe. “Once we land I want you to meet me in my room.” He whispered in your ear, causing chills to go down your spine. 
As you landed, you quickly got up from your seat and made your way to your quarters. You already knew what was going to happen once you got into Anakin's room, so you figured you would freshen up. A quick shower to wash up when you stepped out of the shower, you decided to spray his favorite perfume. 
Anytime you wear that scent, it drove him nuts.
Wrapping your robe around your body, you made your way down to his bedroom. You enter the room and before you could even call out to him ,you feel yourself being pushed up against the wall. A gasp slips from your lips at the sudden contact of your back against the cold wall. A chuckle came from the corner of the room, causing you to look in the direction of the noise. It wasn’t a big shocker to see him slowly walk out into the light. 
“You didn't think I forgot about what you did earlier did you?" He's closer now, his face inches away from yours. You look up at him, deciding to play along. 
“What did I do?" you ask innocently, batting your lashes in hopes of getting away with it.  
His hands find their way towards your body, his grip tight on your hips. “Oh please y/n, don't play dumb,” his lips against your neck as he speaks.
He’s able to take in your scent, causing him to groan. “You know what that perfume does to me.” He loves the way that perfume scent mixes in with your skin.
Hearing him fold just from that makes you smirk. “I know how much you love it, that’s why I wore it”
His hands move their way up to your breasts and he grips them, caressing them roughly. It doesn't even hurt, if anything it feels too good. 
You moan softly as his hands toy with your breasts. "oh Ani-" you're cut off by him. 
“It’s master to you" He says, one hand making his way to grip your neck while his other hand continues to caress your other breast. Despite your eyes being closed enjoying the attention you are receiving from him, you could feel his eyes fixed on you; watching your every move, waiting to see how you’d react. 
Anakin knew the moment he got you in the room, you’d cave; you always did. You were putty in his hands and you both knew it. 
you're not sure what turned you on more.. the tight grip he had on your neck or the fact that you knew that soon you'd be on all fours getting fucked senselessly by him.
you were truly such a whore for him and he knew it too. always loving his roughness with you, letting him have his way with you. He loved it. He loved seeing the way you would crumble under him, how weak he could make you just by his touch.
"You think you're slick. disobeying me in front of the others. trying to make me look like some bitch?" he said, you could hear a small hint of anger in his voice. He pushed himself up against you. you felt yourself getting wetter by the minute. the feeling of his hard cock brushing against your aching core, the feeling drove you insane.
you wanted nothing more than to feel him deep inside of you already.
"I'm sorry Master" you struggled to get your words out, distracted by him. truthfully, you weren't actually sorry. You only said it because you knew that's exactly what he wanted to hear from you. He smirked at the sound of your voice, you sounded so small to him, so fragile. He loved the affect he had on you.  
soon he would be breaking you apart.
“Strip.” He's watching you like a hawk, as you take each piece of clothing you have on, off.
he takes a few steps back from you. "Get on the bed, now" you do as you're told but instead of actually getting on the bed you decide to stand in front of it.
"I said get on the bed" he’s right in front of you now. His eyes are darker. He pushes you down roughly onto the bed. All you can do in that moment is look up at him.
He’s now towering over you, he uses his flesh hand to roughly spread open your legs.; his fingers run along your wet slit, spreading your folds, exposing your juices to him. “Look at how wet you are for me” he smirks.
His fingers apply pressure to your clit. He's moving them in a circular motion, painfully slow.
Your eyes are shut; you’re bottom lip in between your teeth while you try to keep in your moans. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction but you’ve failed.
Pushing yourself against his hand “p-please Master.”
“What is it y/n, spit it out.” He’s amused with how much of an affect he has on you.
“I need more. Please” you manage to get out between your whimpers.
He grows harder at the sight of you; the way you’re falling apart just by his touch, the way you sound, those small noises that are escaping your lips.
As much as he doesn’t want to give in to you. He can’t wait any longer. Just as you’re aching for him, he’s aching for you too.
He thinks about the way your walls stretch around his length. The way he fills you up so perfectly.
“Fuck this.” He gives in; his head is now in between your thighs. He doesn’t waste anymore time. His tongue laps at your swollen clit, he’s now slipped two fingers in you, fucking you with them.
Your back is now arched, your head thrown back. All you can do is moan. Your hands resting on the back of his head, pushing him further into you. “Oh f-fuck, fuck, you make me feel so good Master” you cry out through gritted teeth.
He groans against you, continuing on with what he’s doing. He feels your walls tighten around his fingers, he knows what that means. You’re close. He stops. Pulling his fingers out, moving his head. Instead of you cumming on his fingers.. he wants you to cum all over his cock.
You whimper at the sudden loss of his touch.; you stare at him with a pout now on your lips. “That wasn’t nice”
“Does it look like I care? I want you on all fours. Now." you do as you're told and reposition yourself; now your face pressed against the pillows and your ass high up in the air. He stares at your body, almost creaming his pants at the sight of you.
You wait eagerly, you’re so ready to be filled up and used by your Master.
He quickly undresses himself; he’s now positioned behind you. His hand grips your hip tightly, while the other grabs ahold of his cock and lines himself up at your entrance.
Before slipping into you; he’s teasing you by running the tip of his cock up and down your slit, spreading the wetness that you and him both created.
You being impatient, you try to push yourself against him. Earning a slap to your ass. “Be patient, whore.”
You moan at his words.
Before you know it, he slides into you, slowly, making sure you feel every inch of him as he fills you up. He watches as his cock disappears. Moaning at the feeling of your walls stretching around him. Without any hesitation, he pulls out and thrusts back into you roughly.; fucking you like the dirty little whore you are.
The room is filled with the sounds of your skin slapping against one another. Your moans and his groans.
You move your hips; thrusting back into him. This new action from you drives him crazy, causing him to thrust even harder.
“You feel so good inside of me, Master! Please don't stop .” You practically scream out.
“F-fuck y/n. I won’t! I’m gonna keep fucking you like the little whore you are.” his eyes are shut, moaning loudly, his hips drilling into yours.
His movements remain at the same pace as before, his hand still tightly gripping your hip. 
Moans escaping you both. 
You shove your face in the pillow in an attempt to quiet your moans. 
Anakin notices; wrapping your hair around his free hand, he pulls your head back from the pillows. “Don't hide your sounds, I want them all to hear how good I make you feel." He meant every word. He really did not care if anyone heard you both. He wanted the others to hear you, to know that you are his.
You belonged to him. 
“More,” you call, begging for him to give you more. Anakin could never say no to you. His hand slid down the curve of your spine, resting between your shoulder blades. Quickly moving his arm around you. He pulls you up, your back against his chest. His hand finds its way to your throat, gripping it.
It was needy and messy; feeling you around him drove him mad, hearing you ask him for more was the cherry on top.
"This is what you wanted, wasn't it?" Anakin asks, your little hand wrapping around his wrist. You nod, unable to verbally answer him.
"Good girl."
Your moans continue to echo throughout the room. finally you reach down to apply pressure to your clit; rubbing aggressively, this and his harsh thrusts throw you over the edge. your head thrown back, eyes rolled back. "I'm gonna cum.” You cry out. 
“Cum for me, cum all over my cock baby." His thrusts become sloppier, indicating he's close as well. 
"I'm cumming, gonna fill you up." he groans loudly, filling you up with his seed. 
Small whimpers escape your lips, your body trembling from the intense orgasm you just experienced. 
He gives you a minute before pulling out, and you feel him get off the bed but you aren’t sure where he went. You’re much too tired and to be frank, fucked out, to even care at that point. 
The water is running and you can hear footsteps. Anakin comes back, crouching down by the bed. He rubs your back softly and you look over at him. 
“C’mon,” he says, his hand stretched out for you as he helped you sit up. 
Anakin wraps your robe around you before helping you stand, legs like jello as he slowly walks you towards the bathroom. 
The tub is full and there’s bubbles peeking over the ledge. 
You can’t help the giggle as you glance over at him, “you ran me a bath?” 
“it was the least I could do,” he smiles, kissing your temple as he walks you to the tub. 
He takes the robe from you, his hand in yours as you step into the tub, a satisfied hum when you sink into the warm water. Anakin’s crouched down by the tub now, his arm hanging in the tub as you look at him. Your hand comes up to cup his cheek. 
“I love you, you know that, right?” You tell him, “no matter what.” 
Anakin smiles, turning to press a kiss to your palm. 
“I love you.” 
1K notes · View notes
thesassypadawan · 2 months
Text
Broke The Internet...Again *part 1* (Hayden x FemReader)
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Summary: Just a silly, little drabble about the whole Empire photos being released. Just thought it would be fun to share.
Warnings: None, really. Just some playful banter and cuteness.
Notes: Hope you lovelies enjoy part 2! 😘
- “I’ll help dry in a minute. I’m checking something real quick.” You just finished with dinner and were finally able to look at your phone. It had been going off like crazy during the whole meal. Well, at least it did until you muted Lord Vader’s breathing.
- You hop up on the island, next to the sink. Thinking it was going to only be a bunch of spam emails or score updates for the hockey game or both.
- At first, you’re mildly surprised to see it was all notifications from your various social media apps. Then extremely surprised when you open one and begin to scroll. “Oh…ohh…OhHH?! What do we have here?!”
- “What is it, angel? Your team actually winning?” Hayden jokes; elbow deep in soapy water, a playful smirk on his face.
- “First off…rude,” you pout. Getting a hand full of the bubbles and throwing them at him. “Second…you remember that shoot you did for Empire? The one where you wore that really sexy black outfit I liked?”
- Returning the favor, he places a big glob on the tip of your nose. “I remember VERY well; we didn’t leave the bed for a whole day,” he says smugly, flashing you that damn panty dropping smiles. “So what about it?”
- You grin at him mischievously, legs swinging all giddily. “Weelll, apparently the pics were released today and…” You show him your screen. “Congrats, Hay, you went and broke the internet…again.”
- The look on his face as he sees all the posts, absolutely priceless. He’s always so cute and yummy when he’s embarrassed. “I…um…sorry?”
- “Don’t be! Proud of you, you big dork!” Leaning over, you place a kiss on his very red cheek and whisper in his ear. “In fact, why don’t you let me show you how much I am.”
- His eyes widen slightly, and he cocks an eyebrow at you. “Right now?”
- Biting your lip, you give him a small nod. “I’ll even put on my really sexy black outfit you like… You know, the lacey one.”
- That did it. Dropping the sponge into the water, he doesn’t even bother to dry his hands. Just scoops you up and starts to make a b-line for the bedroom.
- Letting out a small, excited squeak, you wrap your arms around his neck. “What about the dishes?”
- "They’ll still be there in the morning or afternoon,” Hay chuckles. “Or maybe even tomorrow night.”
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loquaciousferret · 1 year
Text
Riduurok
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Pairing: Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian x f!reader
Warnings: Descriptions of blood, injury, anxiety, mentions of death. No explicit content. Maybe more so please read at your own risk.
Word Count: 2.1K
Authors Note: Part 2 is already confirmed. Thank you to @lovers-liability and @tightjeansjavi for their help and encouragement with this. I hope you love it.
Thank you for reading! - LF
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You knew something was wrong when the sun began to set. He had assured you he would have an easy hunt today and return long before dark. Your anxiety grew as each star made itself known in the night sky, each passing minute telling you he was in more and more danger.
After what felt like a lifetime of worry, the perimeter alarm sounded to announce someone’s approach to the ship. You hurried to check the cameras and your stomach dropped at the sight before you, Din, clearly very injured, limping towards the ship on shaky legs, clutching his neck.
You rush to open the doors and lower the ramp to take in the scene in more detail. His upper body is a painting of crimson on a hard beskar canvas. Smears of blood of a variety of shades littering his chest and shoulders.
You gasp, reaching out for him. “Din-“
Before you can continue or he can respond, he takes one more wobbly step towards you, and collapses.
You freeze in panic. Grogu cries out from the corner of the room, having leaped from his crib at the sight of his dad returning.
A strangled moan is emitted from Din's helmet. He's not unconscious, yet. But if you don't get to treat him or at least see the condition of his injury, it wouldn't be long before he was.
“Din?" You ask, adrenaline taking over, replacing your fear with an ability to take action. "Din, are you shot?"
“Jus' grazed my neck." He responds, his voice shaky and pained.
"You- Your-" You stutter. "Din, I- You have to remove your helmet. I w-"
"No." He growls.
"Din, I won't touch you. You can lift it yourself, I need to see the wound. I will treat it quickly and you can put it right back on to recover."
"I said, no. Leave me. Bring me a med pack and get out."
You consider his request for a brief moment. He seems in no condition to treat himself. He has already collapsed to the floor, and he lays against the cool metal, hardly able to support his weight on his forearms. You are sure he won't be able to treat himself without passing out. A cocktail of tortured moans and grunts spills from under his helmet.
"Din, you must let me do this. There is no other way."
Grogu continues to cry. He can see his dad is in pain. He can see you are too, pleading with him.
"Take him out of here," Din gasps, "Bring me a med pack, and leave me. That is not a request."
You whimper, terrified with both options, not sure whether to do as he asks or to defy him. After a moment, you give in, rushing to sweep Grogu into your arms and hurrying to Din's quarters to put the baby in the bed. You know you don't have long. You practically toss him onto the bed, "I'm sorry baby, your daddy will be fine, stay here."
You rip a med pack from the wall on the way back to where Din lies. What you see makes your heart stop. A pool of blood is growing around his helmet. He is no longer supporting his weight on his arms, instead he is completely collapsed to the floor, his helmet twisted at what looks to be a painful angle. Laboured, raspy, breaths sound from his helmet.
"Oh, Din." You gasp, dropping to your knees beside him.
He stretches out a hand to reach for the medpack, and you give him a syringe loaded with bacta. He drops it instantly when you place it in his outstretched palm, his hands shaking and weak.
You realise there is no way he will be able to administer his own treatment.
You plead with him again, "Din, please. Please, just let me do this. I will never tell a soul. I w-"
"Stop." He snaps. "I will not let you do this."
"Please, no." You are sobbing now, and he flexes his fingers, stroking your knee.
"Yes, and I am sorry. I am sorry. I really am. Tell me you will look after him."
"N-No, Din. I don't have to look after him. You aren't going anywhere." You argue, in disbelief at what he is suggesting.
"Tell me you will do it." He says, his voice barely above a whisper but somehow still commanding in its tone. "Give me your word, and it's the last thing I will ask of you."
"No." You cry, "Just let me take it off, Din, he needs you. I need you."
He breathes. "I am sorry, truly. But you must not touch my helmet. This is my fate, mesh'la. It is my duty to fulfil it. This is the way."
You start to panic, sobbing, you are confused, devastated, and more than anything, angry at him. You are downright furious that he thinks he can leave Grogu, that he thinks you two can go on without him. And next, you are angry at yourself, for begging him to abandon his beliefs for your own somewhat selfish desire of being with him.
Din has never told you much about his religion other than the basics. But you have picked up bits and pieces. You have heard stories from others, shared around crackling campfires, whispered under night skies from people who suspected what you and Din had, reassuring you that one day you would look into your lover's eyes. And you will, you remind yourself, as long as you can get him through this. Suddenly, you have the answer, and the words escape you before you can fully process the thought.
"Marry me."
"What?" You can't place his tone. If it is shock, then you don't blame him. You are shocked too. The intensity of your feelings towards Din have hit you like a ton-weight tonight. What you had thought was attraction was suddenly proving itself to be profound, ardent, undeniable love.
But perhaps it is a plain rejection of the idea.
"Th- They told me, if we were to be married that I- That-" You splutter, his breathing becoming more and more shallow with each passing second.
"Mhi solus tome." He murmurs.
"What?" You say, unable to hear him clearly or understand his words.
"Repeat it." He instructs.
"Mhi solus tome." He says again, his voice slightly quieter.
You try your best to copy the unfamiliar language. "Mhi solus tome."
"Mhi solus dar'tome." His voice is faint, as if it is coming from the other side of the room.
"Mhi solus dar'tome."
"Mhi me'dinui an."
"Mhi me'dinui an."
"Mhi ba'ju-" His voice trails off, his last syllable turning into a strained exhale.
"Din?" You say. He is completely unresponsive.
You place your hands on his shoulders and shake him lightly, desperate to bring him back to you but scared to cause him more pain or injure him further.
"Din, please-"
He whispers your name.
"Din, please, Din keep going, you have to-"
He whimpers. The sound makes you feel as though his pain is going right through you, too, and you cry harder.
"Din, plea-"
"Mhi ba'juri verde."
You can barely hear his words but you repeat what you could make out.
"Mhi ba'juri verde."
He lets out another hopelessly painful breath.
"Din? What next, Din, keep going for me."
He doesn't respond. Your hands are covered in the blood seeping from his helmet.
"Din?"
"We-" He coughs and you can see that the motion wracks his body with pain.
"Yes, Din? what is it? What next, Din, please, ple-"
"It is done." He chokes out.
You brace yourself to remove his helmet, terrified to discover the severity of the injury beneath. You grip the bottom of the beskar armour and carefully pull.
He cries out in agony.
You sob as you keep going, slowly removing it to expose his skin centimetre by centimetre. His neck is soaked with blood to the extent that you can't even discern his skin tone. As it reaches past his jaw, you see scruffy dark stubble. Then, flushed cheeks and an angled nose. Eyes, of which you don't know the colour as they are screwed shut in pain, but covered with a layer of thick dark eyelashes. A strong brow bone and a few lines of age. Thick, dark hair, plastered across his forehead with sweat, but you can make out scruffy curls.
You can't waste any time looking at him, though, moving on swiftly to frantically wipe blood from his neck and find the source of his injury.
A graze, he had told you. But the sight before you told you something entirely different.
You pick up the bacta syringe from where he had dropped it to the floor and carefully inject it as close to the wound as possible. He doesn't so much as wince, and you are terrified that you may already have lost him. With the thick liquid fully released, you retract the syringe. You spray the wound next, enough so that it closes, and dress it in a thick padded bandage.
Soft breaths still escape his lips but this can only ease your anxieties slightly. Until he wakes up, you are balanced on a precipice, unable to ascertain if you were too late to save him.
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You must have collapsed from exhaustion, spending the longest night of your life, curled into the side of Din, your-
Your husband, Din Djarin.
You remain in a blissful sleep-like state for a mere moment, wondering if it is also a custom of his religion that you will take his last name. You hope it is.
But then you shoot upright, the events and circumstances rushing back of how exactly you went from... well, whatever you were, to spouses, in such a short period of time.
You yearn to feel his warmth, but you are met with cold steel against you.
You yearn to hear his voice, but you are met with silence in the wide-open heart of his ship.
You force yourself to look at him. The lines that were drawn between his brow and across his forehead last night have disappeared, he looks peaceful. He looks beautiful. You take your time analysing his features. You never want to look at anything else now that you have seen him.
A feeling of calm and contentedness washes over you. You don't know why, but you know he is going to be okay. You know he is going to come back to you.
And just like that, he does.
Your name falls from his lips.
His eyelashes flutter and you see him slowly opening his eyes. This seems as though it takes exertion, as he breathes heavily whilst doing so.
For a moment, you panic internally. What if he has forgotten? What if he regrets it? What if he thinks you did this without his consent?
"Din-" You gasp, as he looks up at you and takes you in.
His features flash in a strange expression and you feel as though your suspicions are confirmed.
"Din, I promise, I didn't d- We- I-"
His lips turn up ever so slightly into a reassuring smile.
"I haven't forgotten any of it, my love. I just can't believe you could possibly have looked more beautiful than I already thought you were through my visor."
You throw yourself at him and he grunts but then laughs.
"I-" The tears start again. You are overwhelmed with emotion. Relief and elation numb the hurt, but you don't know how you will ever get over the night you nearly lost him. You know you will never be able to put this feeling into words.
Somehow, you don't need to. It is as though he can read your mind.
"Shh," He says, rubbing your back. "I know, cyare. I know."
You stay like this for a moment until you pull back from him. He removes a glove and strokes a tear from your cheek.
"I'm here now, my love. I will never let you hurt for me like this again."
You nod and sniffle. You believe him.
"Where's the baby?" He asks softly.
"Oh," You say, and you laugh a little, surprised and embarrassed. He was the reason you were here after all, your job was as his caretaker. But for a moment, you had forgotten him. "I put him in your bed last night. I didn't hear him all night . I hope that means he slept through."
"Alright. Go and tend to him. I will get us the hell off this planet. I need to take you to my people."
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MASTERLIST
Taglist: @silkiers @tightjeansjavi @chaotic-mystery @lovers-liability
Tag because I think you might like this: @deceiver-of-gods
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mrsmikaelsxn · 10 months
Text
Marry Me
masterlist
pairing: anakin skywalker x female reader
warnings: kissing, fluff, insecure anakin
summary: anakin proposes to you and your wedding
a/n: lmao this was taken straight from my anakin fic on wattpad but it makes a good oneshot too, on wattpad it is an x oc though
song: perfect - ed sheeran
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Anakin and you are in the bedroom of a house that you two were temporarily staying at. Anakin is wearing a long sleeved shirt with the front buttons open.
He sits next to you on the bed and looks down. He frowns at his mechanic hand.
You look at him and see him try to cover the hand, "Ani?"
"Hm?"
"What's wrong? Is it the arm? Is it hurting you?"
"No, love," he kisses your head.
"Well why are you trying to hide it," you frown at him.
"Well, I- do you think it looks bad?"
You then realize that he's insecure about it, your heart hurts.
"Ani," you whisper, "nothing, and I mean nothing, about you is or looks bad. That arm will not change a single thing I feel for you. I think it makes you look strong," you smile.
"But.."
"No buts!" You pick up the mechanical hand, he watches you as you kiss it. You continue to kiss each of the knuckles. His eyes water.
You leave a few more soft kisses on it and gently place it down. You look up at him and wipe his tears. You leave a gentle kiss on his lips, "I love you. No matter what."
"I love you," he hugs you and rests his chin on your head for a moment. He stands up and walks onto the balcony, pulling you with him. He turns to you as you gaze at the unreal sunset.
"Y/n," he whispers. You look at him and he reaches into his pocket. He opens a small box and you look at the most gorgeous ring you have ever seen. "Marry me."
"Ani... I- what about the Jedi?"
"I don't care about that. I love you. You are my life. Marry me," he whispers.
"I'll marry you," tears fall down your face and you smiles. Anakin grabs your left hand and places a kiss on it, he slides the ring on as he looks into your eyes.
He pulls you into a love filled kiss. He kisses you like his life depended on it. Your lips on each other, so perfect it's like they were made for one another.
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In a garden on Naboo, there are waterfalls in the back, flowers everywhere, a bright sun, and the air is warm.
There is an archway decorated with the most beautiful flowers and vines. A Naboo holy man stands underneath.
There are three chairs on the grass. Anakin stands under the arch in a suit, nervously looking around.
Then, Padmé walks out with some flower petals, she grins at the nervous boy and winks as she throws some petals into a path. When she's done she takes a seat in one of the chairs.
Next is Artoo and Threepio. Artoo happily bleeps his way down the path with Threepio walking next to him. They get to the holy man and give him the rings. Threepio then takes his seat and Artoo stands next to him.
Lastly, are you with Obi-Wan on your arm.
You are wearing a white wedding gown. It has some very, very, light pastel flowers embroidered onto the skirt. It's made out of a soft and flowy fabric that elegantly drapes over your curves. The dress has an ethereal effect and it has a medium length train. The beautiful layers of the skirt fabric are cascading down like a waterfall.
Your hair is in a stunning, but somewhat loose, bun in the back of her head, you also have flowers in your hair. You have light makeup on with the biggest smile on your face.
Anakin has tears falling down his face at the mere sight of her, he has to bite his lip to stop it from wobbling. He quickly wipes away the tears and swallows nervously.
You get to the end of the aisle and face Anakin. Obi-Wan walks to his seat and sits down. The holy man starts his wedding speech and they get the vows. After they exchange their loving words, they both are crying again. Obi-Wan smiles, he's more than happy for you both, as is Padmé.
"Anakin Skywalker, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"
"I do."
"Y/n L/n, do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"
"I do."
"Repeat after me," the holy man says. "I, Anakin Skywalker, take you Y/n L/n, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."
Anakin repeats the words with a smile.
The holy man turns to you, "I, Y/n L/n, take you Anakin Skywalker, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."
You repeat and then place the ring on Anakin's finger and he places the other on yours.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Anakin grins and pulls you into a kiss as Obi-Wan, Padmé, and Threepio clap. Artoo lets out joyful whistles and bleeps.
You pull apart, and some flower petals gently fall on and around them. Your foreheads are connected for a moment and Anakin whispers, "My darling love, my wife."
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constellation-em · 3 months
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Being a Mandalorian on Din's Ship
Oh yeah, and you're secretly in love with each other.
While you don’t believe in keeping the helmet on as part of the Creed, you still do so as a sign of respect for Din. 
It took you guys approximately three months to stop calling each other Mando or “Hey you!”
You installed a radio in the cockpit, but Din only wants to listen to orchestra music. The radio was suspiciously broken within a week, and you definitely have no idea what happened to it. Definitely. 
You have nicknames to call each other in public. You call him Mando, and he calls you Scout. 
Sometimes when you’re in really busy markets, he’ll grab onto your arm to keep you from getting swept away. He knows that realistically you won’t, because you’re a strong warrior, but he worries anyway. 
Din doesn’t know when his birthday is (and doesn’t care), so you picked a day to celebrate. 
Knowing full well the importance of gifting weapons in Mandalorian culture, (they often accompany a marriage proposal), you bought Din a new blaster for his birthday. He got weird and quiet for a few days, and then presented you with a beskar necklace with his signet on it. While your helmet covers your face, you’re sure he knows you were crying. 
You’ll often sit in complete silence for hours at a time in the cockpit, especially when in hyperspace. 
Speaking of hyperspace, it gets cold as balls when you’re travelling in it. One time when Din noticed how cold you were he grabbed an extra cape of his and wrapped it around your shoulders. 
Sometimes you catch him staring at you, but he claims he’s looking out a side window. You know better. If he was just looking out the window, why did he whip his head back forward as soon as you looked at him?
He knows you don’t like wearing your helmet 24/7, so sometimes he tells you when he’ll be in his room so you can have time with it off. You’re not used to wearing it so much and it’s started giving you headaches. 
One time when you were at a cafe chasing a bounty, someone started hitting on you very aggressively. You lied to the guy and said you had a boyfriend, to which he replied that he bet he “could treat you so much better than him”. Din appeared practically out of nowhere, told the man “I doubt that.” and just walked away arm in arm with you. You held on to eachother the entire walk back to the ship. You didn’t get the bounty that day, and you never talked about that moment. 
You’ve noticed that sometimes when you step into the cockpit, if his helmet is off he’s started taking a little bit longer to put it back on. As if he’s inching himself closer to showing you his face. You’re too afraid to ask. 
You’ve never seen his face, but he’s seen yours once; the day you met. He told you about his belief in the Creed, and you replied that if you were going to live on his ship, you would live by his tenants. He seemed surprised by that, but later told you he respects you strongly for it. 
You grew up Mandalorian, just not in as strict a covert as his. You were never bound to cover your face, and you were not a foundling. That being said, you’ve come to appreciate the power behind a united force of just being “Mando” to strangers. 
Your contract was initially for only six months, but when your time was up you just… kept working and living on the ship. You never talked about extending it, it was just unsaid that you would continue being there. 
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angelltheninth · 1 year
Text
Secret Relationship with Anakin Skywalker
Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, sneaking around, kissing, cuddles, marks, scar kisses, almost getting caught, secret relationship
A/N: You thought about this before don't lie.
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Your relationship consists mostly of kisses stolen in dark hallways or even alleyways of the Galactic City and the Jedi Temple
You're the first person Anakin visits after a mission, conveying you every detail, that makes him sound cool that is, he tends to leave out the less cool moments
He can't buy you a ring or anything of the sort due to having to be on the downlow but he can wear matching necklaces as you, his robe covers it most of the time but you can display it proudly
Because you can't really go on dates he brings the dates to you
Often uses the Force to do little tricks and make you laugh due to how goofy he can be at times
A little starved for affection from you which gets worse when he's been off planet for a while
Cuddles charge his batteries like nothing else in the universe
Has quite the knack for sneaking into your room and so its a good thing that the only things he wants are your cuddles and kisses, if he were a thief or an assassin you'd be more worried about his sneaking skills
His scar is his weak spot, it doesn't particularly feel uncomfortable but it is more sensitive then the rest of him
Prefers to hold your hand in his real hand due to feeling the warmth and softness better
Gets carried away often and ends up spending the night with you
Very grateful that he's heavily clothed so no one notices the deep scratch marks down his back
He left marks on you too, lots of kisses in some... very secret places
Despite getting carried away he still knows the rules, no marks where others can notice easily
Almost forgets his lightsaber on your nightstand a few times when he's rushing to get dressed and get to the Jedi Council
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kometqh · 2 months
Text
𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
501st x F!Jedi!Reader General Skywalker clearly wasn't a reliable source of intell, having pointed you and Rex's squad into the icy tumbra of a long deserted planet, however, it was due to his calculated mistake that the Clones were able to reveal your deeply hidden desires. Being stuck in a cave with numerous handsome, attractive men was not on your to-do list, yet you weren't complaining. Word Count: 3028
Warnings: Unedited, random brain rainbow vomit I had whilst practicing writing techniques <3 It's somewhat (quite) spicy towards the end. There is a lot of fluff throughout most of it! A/N: This is mostly just Tup, Rex and Fives x reader as this was a very spontaneous fic T_T pls forgive me.
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"General Skywalker said this would be an easy mission," Fives hissed under his breath, the deep, reverbrating sound of his voice lost underneath the wolfish howling of the wind, clusters of snow beating at his helmet. This was supposed to be a quick and easy diplomatic trip, but where did he and the 501st Legion find themselves? Somewhere on a deserted, icy, snowy planet. "My toes are about to fall off!"
"Yeah, he promised us there'd be clear blue skies and hot weather. A beach even!" Echo added on, shrugging his shoulders in defeat. Rather than being on a hot, sandy beach, the brothers had found themselves treading through waist-deep snow, their fingers and toes turning into icicles, their blasters heavy in their grasps. 
"I thought this was supposed to be a diplomatic trip, Captain," Fives continued, his voice becoming white noise as Rex all but ignored his brother, gracing him with an occasional hum or grunt, to let him know he was listening. But he wasn't hearing. Rex was also unhappy with the circumstances, but it was his job to do this kind of thing. It's not like the clones could refuse not going on a mission, not going head-first into a battle, so he definitely would have appreciated General Skywalker's honesty, over trickery. 
The weather was only getting worse, the wind and snow beating at the men cruelly, the blue paint on their armour completely disappeared under the clusters of snow that had latched themselves onto the clones. 
He paused in his tracks, scanning the area through his optical goggles. He spotted something. Something dark, something round. His men stopped behind him, eerily silent as they anticipated their Captain's next words. 
Rex, turning to face his brothers, couldn't help the way his shoulders visibly relaxed as he relayed the news, "I see a cave entrance just a couple yards ahead, boys! We will seek shelter there!" He exclaimed, waving his arm, signalling for them to keep going, to keep following him. 
In the very back, just behind Tup and Jesse, a lone, female Jedi guarded their backs, one hand hovering protectively over her weapon, the other shielded away in the pocket of her coat. A backpack hung onto her shoulders, the leather material soaked and cold, receiving most of the onslaught of the weather. 
Her mind was wandering, body craving to feel the heat of a hot sun glazing against her bare skin, just as Anakin had hinted to. But instead, she was stuck walking through a blizzard, her body cold and tired.
She had also been excited to spend some quality time with the boys from the 501st, whom she had been recently often paired with for missions. The sight of them all relaxing and enjoying their time on the beach, with their tops exposed, tan skin glistening under the sunlight.. Yeah, that would have been a sight worth seeing.
A sudden, much harsher gust of wind jolted her from her thoughts, clumps of snow quickly settling against the icy skin on her face. 
Her robes, too, were soaked, struggling to maintain the warmth in her body as she did her best to follow the path created by the clones, snow crunching under her winter boots. 
She too wasn't made aware of the true conditions of the mission. She couldn't tap into the force either, to predict or to feel some kind of warning of the mission ahead. What was Skywalker thinking? He was lucky none of her men had fallen! The moment she'd get back, the moment her eyes would land on him, he would be wise to run for the hills. She could imagine the fear in his eyes as she comically choked him out, swaying the male back and forth in a fit of anger.
Relief flooded the squad as one by one, they made their way into the cave, it being cleared by their Captain and medic, Rex and Kix. 
Quickly setting camp, the clones hovered around their makeshift fire, some huddled close together, others snuggling under individual, soaked blankets. The snow had penetrated all of their supplies; food, water, tents and blankets. All they could do was hope that the fire would last long enough for the storm to pass, for their blankets to dry out and warm up. 
"What the hell was the General thinking?" Fives muttered, his eyebrows furrowed. He rubbed his bare hands together until they were warm enough, and then he shifted closer to the fire. 
His feet stung, the feeling just barely coming back to him after that gruelling tread. He was sure if his feet didn't fall off yet, then something else soon would. 
You exhaled a heavy sigh, a blanket resting over your shoulders as you extended your palms out towards the fire. Rex had been kind enough to lend you his blanket, noticing that your robes and skirt were practically drenched from the weather. Sure, you weren't dressed for the beach, but you also weren't dressed well enough for a blizzard. 
You were lucky to have been warned, or rather told, by Master Kenobi of the true conditions of your mission. If you hadn't been, your troops wouldn't have had enough time to prepare for the weather. 
Looking over your squad, you made eye contact with Tup. A worried frown ghosted over his rough features, the creases that you hated so much appearing on his forehead. 
Slowly, you made your way over to the trooper, one hand outstretched.
"Tup? Are you okay?" You asked, resting your hand over his shoulder. As if startled, the man looked to you, his brows quirked in surprise. 
"G-General? Why do you ask?" He questioned, gaze flickering down to your hand, before coming back up to stare into your eyes. A soft, pink hue dusted over his cheeks, and your heart fluttered at the sight. Sure, he was sweet and kind, he was the shyest of your men. He was almost like a puppy, his chocolatey brown eyes so deep, so sweet, you had lost yourself in them again. 
He was the only man who gazed into your eyes long enough for you to drown, a soft smile erupting on your face as you fought your best to not reach up and caress his cheek in your palm. 
"General? Are you listening?" He asked, his gloved hands reaching up to shake at your shoulders, gently. 
Your lashes fluttered over your eyes, taking in a deep exhale, you shrugged. Were you really okay? 
Taking a moment to respond, your gaze flickered up, noticing how wet his hair was. 
"Tup, d'you want me to dry your hair?" The words tumbled from your mouth before your brain could finish processing their meaning. Tup's eyes widened into saucers as he stood there, frozen. You had never been so caring to your men, at least, not like this. 
Remember that pink hue that dusted his cheeks just a moment ago? Yeah, now that's turned into a beetroot blush, the colour painting his ears, his face and neck in a deep shade of reddish-purple. Would it be okay for you to display such blatant acts of affection? Wouldn't that be against the rules and regulations of the Jedi council? Against the regulations of the GAR? If so, would his brothers snitch?
"S-Sorry, I didn't mean to-" You started, your mouth quickly dropping into the shape of an 'o' as Tup interrupted you.
"General, I would love for you to dry my hair." He said with a soft smile, scratching at the back of his nape.
Realising it was too late now to back out, you gave a small nod of your head before taking his gloved hand in yours, the leathery material scraping nicely against your soft skin, as you led him closer to the campfire. 
Motioning for Tup to sit down, you stood directly behind, and, above him, reaching to remove your dry blanket from your shoulders. You didn't have a towel, so a blanket should be a good enough substitute. Your hands reached to remove his hairtie, sliding it over your hand to rest on your wrist, your fingers quickly making their way to masssage Tup's scalp. 
As he leaned his head back into your soft hold, Tup couldn't help the relieved sigh that escaped his lips. Your fingernails grazed softly against his skin, tugging gently at his soft curls, sending eletric shivers down the male's spine. 
But it was when your hands slid from his scalp, over to his nape and shoulders, applying soft but firm pressure against his tired muscles that the involuntary groan escaped his lips, rumbling deep from within his chest. 
Your body stiffened, stopping your ministrations as a familiar spark shot through your heart, right down to your abdomen. 
Your eyes, wide and unblinking, stared into Tup's as the colour red flushed his cheeks once more. His eyes searched yours, a worried glint dancing across as he waited for your reaction. His lips stuttered as he was about to apologise, provide an excuse, tell you it was okay if you didn't want to continue. 
But the words fell short on his tongue as the corners of your lips tugged upwards, your hands applying the slightest bit more pressure to his sore muscles. 
A grunt was stiffled in his throat, his eye fighting hard to stay open, looking anywhere but at your face. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable, give you the wrong idea-
None of his brothers did. 
Though a lump formed in his throat as Tup looked around the cave, noticing the numerous lingering gazes of his brothers as they sat there, watching your movements. He could almost feel the jealousy vibrating off of Rex in waves, his gaze hardened as the corners of his lips fought to stay straight. 
A smirk tugged at Tup's lips, as he noticed Jesse squint his eyes at him. Deciding to add fuel to the fire, Tup groaned again when your hands pressed against a particularly tense muscle in his shoulder. 
"Woah, General, where did you learn this?" He asked, a familiar warmth blooming in his abdomen as your nimble fingers danced across his shoulders, tugging at the black suit he wore, exposed now as his armour rested beside a sleeping bag nearby. 
"Oh, you know, just learned bits here and there when I was stationed with Commander Wolffe," You chuckled, wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue, "That man was full of knots in his shoulders." You added, feeling Tup's shoulders relax more and more, until you had mentioned Wolffe. That's when his posture straightened, from a relaxed lean, to a pin-straight sitting up position. 
He tilted his head back to look at you, a curious yet worried glint in his golden eyes.
"Were you and Commander Wolffe close, by any chance?" He questioned, his breathing paused. 
If you were Wolffe's girl, then he knew the 501st couldn't, wouldn't pursue you. 
Or, if you weren't, then they knew at least they could ask the Commander of his previous.. Experiences, with you. 
Slowly, you caught onto Tup's drift, and your gaze travelled around the room. Some of the men were fully facing the two of you, legs spread, eyes laser-focused as they listened to your conversation, the cave suddenly, and eerily silent.
A shiver travelled down your spine, and a gentle smirk tugged at your lips.
"Oh, just you know, the occasional date here and there.." You said, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly. Your smirk threatened to grow as you heard someone scoff, and you looked up to see Rex rolling his shoulders, a scowl on his face.
"Date? Isn't that, like, forbidden?" Fives questioned across from you, leaning over curiously, his eyebrows raised, resembling the blue markings on his helmet. 
A giggle escaped your lips as your hands returned to Tup's hair, suddenly remembering why you were giving him a random shoulder massage. You reached over to grab the blanket Rex had given you, placing soft curls between the two valleys of softness created by your hands, which were hidden underneath the soft cushion.
Your hands brushed through Tup's soft hair, gently dragging the strands through the dry, fuzzy material of your blanket. 
"I don't mean a romantic date, Fives, though I wouldn't be opposed to one." You mused, softly tugging at the locks. "I don't particulaly agree with the 'No Attachments' rule. But that doesn't make me less of a Jedi, or does it, do you think?" You questioned, your gaze softening, a small scowl now tugging at your lips. 
"Of course not, General," This time, it was Rex who spoke up, albeit too fast for his liking, "You're one of the most dedicated Jedi I've had the pleasure of working with," He stated, soft footsteps making their way closer and closer to you, "Plus, it is human to wish to form attachments." He whispered that last part, now standing directly above you as you twisted Tup's hair into the towel.
Your heart fluttered at the proximity, warmth enveloping your pinkening cheeks.
"Is it now, Rex?" You asked, looking up at him. Your heart palpitated at the close proximity, your hands gliding down to caress Tup's shoulders. Your gaze stayed unwavering, unbreaking as you looked into Rex's deep, honey-gold eyes. The Captain suddenly shifted, breaking eye contact as he stepped back a little. 
"I-I believe any of us s-should be able to form attachments," He paused, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips, and back to your eyes, "Romantic ones, especially." A chorus of 'Yeah's' and humms of agreement followed, catching your attention as you looked around.
The atmosphere in the cave seemed to have completely shifted, the sound of howling wind drowned out underneath the loud beat of your heart. You swallowed a forming lump, looking between Rex and his brothers, Tup now stood by your side, sandwiching your body between his and Rex's. 
Gloved hands came up to softly caress your shoulders, fingertips lightly tugging at the edge of your collar, grazing the skin underneath. 
"What do you think, Commander?" He whispered into your ear, hot breath fanning over your skin.
"Of?" You prompted, turning your head lightly to look at Tup. 
"Of close relations between Jedi and their Clones?"
Your eyes widened, feeling a familiar heat rush over your body, and you took inhaled a slow, deep, shaky breath. As you looked between Tup and Rex, the latter had made his way closer to your body, his hands making their way to your hips.
The sound of soft footsteps reached your ears, and you saw Echo, Fives, Jesse, Kix, Dogma and Hardcase making their way closer to the three of you, looking completely entranced by the conversation. You hadn't casted any spells on them, have you?
Your breath hitched in your throat, shivers overtaking your body as someone nuzzled their nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, exhaling with a shaky sigh. As they spoke, your heart fluttered with recognition. 
"General, answer the question." Fives whispered, his voice gravelly and deep, one gloved hand gently grasping your chin, twisting it to face him. His gaze flickered to your lips,  just mere inches from his own. He could almost feel the taste of you on his tongue. Oh how he wished to kiss you, right then and there. He was so sure you'd let him, too.
Sure, maybe you did fantasise about the men from time to time, when your thoughts weren't preoccupied by ongoing battles and Jedi duties. How you wished to be allowed to form a connection deeper than General and Trooper, but did they?
"I- I.. I don't k-know?" You questioned, a soft whimper escaping your opened mouth, before you knew it, his lips crashed against yours, his hands latching themselves into your hair, pulling you closer, if physically possible.
The kiss was, to simply put it, sweet. His goatee rubbed nicely against your chin, his lips melting together with yours, as if they were always meant to. His tongue prodded at your bottom lip, asking for permission. Slipping in, it danced with yours, hot breaths mingling together as you felt something press up against your front.
Rex.
You had almost forgotten you were trapped between Rex and Tup, too engulfed with the sudden kiss Fives had engaged you in.
The smell of pine and smoke invaded your nostrils, their scents overwhelming, flooding your senses as Fives became rougher, his hands tugging at the roots of your hair. With one hand, you grasped the side of his face, thumb rubbing soothing circles into his rough skin, your breath hitched as a groan escaped his lips.
"Okay, that's enough I think." Kix spoke, the kiss abruptly interrupted as he pulled Fives away by the scruff of his neck. 
"General? Are you okay?" Rex's voice was soft as he neared you, his breath fanning over the sensitive shell of your ear. 
Inhaling a shallow breath, you grasped his biceps with both hands.
"Call me Y/n.." You whispered, hazily meeting Rex's stare, his eyebrows raised, eyes wide.
"R-Right.. Y/n, d'you want us to continue?" He questioned, bringing a hand to gently clutch your chin. 
Your eyes widened as you took in the situation around you; eight men surrounded you, watching. Waiting. Ready to pounce, the moment they received your permission. 
And receive it, they did.
With a brisk nod, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut as Rex closed the gap between the two of you, his lips rough but warm as his body pushed roughly against yours, your back meeting Tup's chest in a close embrace. 
Your hands rested against Rex's chest, feeling the soft material of his shirt underneath your thumbs. His chest was warm and firm under your touch, the feeling of his heart racing beneath your hand had your own chest swelling with joy. A sigh left your lips as you felt a pair of lips press open-mouthed kisses against the expanse of your neck, a new pair of hands rubbing up and down your hips, encouraging you.
You weren't dreaming, were you? You weren't about to wake up, were you?
Your questions were answered as you felt Rex bite your bottom lip, his hands tugging at the roots of your hair.
No, this definitely wasn't a dream.
And if it was, it wasn't one you wished to wake from.
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nosugarallspice · 9 months
Note
your last Anakin piece was so good! If you don’t have to many requests could we have phrase 46 with Anakin? :)
Thank you!! // You sure can:))
Minors DNI!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“How does that feel?” Anakin asked, his pretty blue eyes staring up at you from in between your thighs.
“So, so good.” You whimpered. Your hands tangled in his shaggy curls as his tongue lapped at your folds. His nose brushing against your clit, his tongue working your entrance.
His hand rests over your tummy to keep your body pressed against the mattress.
“More.” You beg. He had you so worked up that his tongue alone was not enough to fulfill you at this moment. You needed more from him.
Finally he pushed two fingers into your needy pussy, working them at a fast pace. His tongue never leaves your clit. Sucking aggressively, almost as if he was hungry for you.
Curling his fingers, brushing against your sweet spot each time he pushed back into you. Your back arched, your hands making their way to your tits, squeezing and tugging at your nipples, while those sweet whimpers escaped your lips.
He pulled away causing you to look down at him. His lips and chin glistening from the mix of your arousal and his saliva.
“You make such pretty sounds, my love.” He smiled. His fingers are still moving, his thumb replacing his tongue and rubbing gentle circles against your clit.
Your moans became more constant, indicating that you’re close. Your cunt clenching around his fingers as they fucked into you, your eyes shut. His name falling from your lips like a prayer, along with you telling him you’re close.
“That’s my good girl, cum for me.”
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givemequeen · 5 months
Text
thats all that matters: anakin x reader
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request:hi. could you please do a anakin x reader fic where ani comes back from a long mission and they have a little fluffy reunion and they missed each other a lot a/n: ive been waiting for this one! turn it up! (ps. this is acc an extract from a fic ive been working on. hopefully i can turn it into a long fic. lmk if you guys would wanna see that) word count: 437 (rly short)
“Ani?” you called out to the darkness, your voice low and unsure. You were stood under a  fluorescent Felucian fern; its large size provided you some cover from any wandering Jedi. Not that you needed it; hardly anyone visited the Temple’s gardens on the top floor, and ever since the start of the Clone Wars, fewer and fewer Jedi came to visit the mystical gardens.
“Yeah, its me.” you could tell he was smiling even before he stepped around a cluster of mushrooms you were pretty sure originate from Endor, you could hear his smile in his voice.
As soon as you saw him, you broke into a run and leaped into his open arms, almost toppling him over. In that moment, you completely forgot you were in the Jedi temple, it was just you and him. No sneaking around, no secrecy, just your love for each other.
He pressed his face against your shoulder and tightly hugged you, his arms wrapped around your torso. His familiar scent enveloped you like a warm hug as you nestled your face in the crook of his neck.
"I missed you so much, Ani," you said, pulling away slightly to get a good look at his face. He kept his arms around you, pressing your bodies together, and his face broke into a warm smile, the type of smile that could light up an entire room and was extremely contagious.
“I missed you more, my love.” he leaned in to kiss you; he tasted nice. 
“You had been gone for so long.” you pouted. “And we couldn’t even talk!”
Anakin’s latest mission had been hard on you both. He had been sent to Kessel on a no-comms mission to gather intel on some Separatist plot. But that didn’t matter anymore, all that mattered was now. His arms around you, his lips against yours. You didn’t know how you were going to say goodbye to him again.
“I’m sorry.” he always apologised, even though it wasn’t his fault. “You know how things are…” he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear and smiled down at you. “But let's forget about that, okay?”
You nodded and, standing on your tip-toes, gave him a quick kiss. You could feel that gorgeous smile of his against your own as you kissed.
Anakin pulled you tight against him once more, desperate to feel you close to him. You could feel the way his heart rapidly beat against your chest. His warmth was nearly overwhelming, but not quite.
"We're here now, together." he kissed the top of your head. "And thats all that matters."
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gloomwitchwrites · 1 month
Text
Say Yes
Bounty Hunter Boba Fett x Female Reader
Content & Trigger Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): fluff, heavy suggestive themes, protective!Boba, Mandalorian!Boba, light angst, non-descriptive sex
Word Count: 2.5k
A young, handsome bounty hunter on Tatooine makes it a daily intention to ask you to marry him.
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // fluffuary 2024 masterlist
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Mando’a Translations: cyar’ika – darling / sweetheart riduur – partner / spouse “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde” – marriage vows
“Marry me, cyar’ika.”
You glance up from the worn open tome resting on the counter in front of you. “Again? Really, Boba?”
The Mandalorian helmet, dented with flaking green paint, tilts slightly to the right. “You called me ‘Boba’ this time,” teases the bounty hunter.
You roll your eyes and push off from the counter, cheeks heating even as you grumble in false irritation.
Boba Fett, Jabba the Hutt’s favorite mercenary for hire, has asked you to marry him every day for several weeks now. And each time, you have refused him. For the first few, you were overly polite. But as his attempts continued, your polite rejections transformed into snarky quips and blatant dismissals.
It’s not like you don’t find the man attractive. Underneath the armor is an incredibly handsome man, and his attention has always been sincere. But Boba Fett is a dangerous man, and you’re just a simple shopkeeper trying to make a living in Mos Espa. In that regard, the two of you are incompatible no matter how much he persists and chases after you.
“I like how you say my name,” continues Boba, his voice a soft purr. “Sounds beautiful on your tongue.”
“And you are too forward,” you snap, knowing that your sharpness is just a cover. Which is silly, because you do like him, and Boba seems to understand this. Boba burrows beneath your skin, and you cannot dig him out.
“Am I?” he asks with mock offense. You really want to throttle him, but you also really want to kiss him.
“Yes. I don’t know how many times I have to say this, Fett,” you emphasize, deliberately using his last name. “But a ‘no’ is a ‘no’ even if you don’t like it.”
Yep. Push him away. Keep pushing. Maybe he’ll take the hint this time.
Boba Fett stands tall, arms crossed over his chest, one hip slightly popped. With the helmet on, you have no idea what his expression might be or what he’s feeling. Not knowing is maddening, and it quickens your heartbeat, a growing tingle buzzing in the tips of your fingers.
“So, all those touches meant nothing to you?” he asks with just the faintest hint of roughness in his tone.
“Yes,” you lie.
Boba shifts on his feet, shoulders straightening. “What about all the kisses you’ve given me? Hm? Nothing?”
Kriffing hell, why is this man always so direct? It’s nice that Boba is good about telling you what he wants and what he’s thinking for the most part, but it always catches you off-guard. It makes you weak, melting you into goo that he can mold however he wishes.
“Those are not enough to build a marriage, Boba,” you shrug. “There has to be more.”
“But there is more.” He steps around the counter, stepping into your space. “Isn’t there?”
Boba is right. There is more. There has always been more. Whenever Boba is on Tatooine, he is visiting you, talking with you, bringing you gifts, fixing things around the shop without you having to ask. He has offered to take you out after you’ve closed shop. He routinely takes a personal interest in your safety and security. Because of that, no one bothers you or tries to harass additional credits out of you. They stay away and respect you because they see you as Boba’s woman.
And it isn’t only that. He only ever speaks softly to you. He only ever treats you with respect and shows general interest in your life. The most maddening thing is how many women have actively shown their interest in him to his face, and he has brushed them all aside. Even after all these refusals on your end, Boba still declines their advances, and shows up at your shop each day insisting that you marry him.
“Why do you keep denying this, cyar’ika? You know I’d make you happy.” Boba is standing too close, almost on top of you.
“The shop is closed,” you reply. “If you’re not going to make a purchase, you should leave.”
Boba nods his head and backs up, reaching for an item off the shelf without looking. He deposits some credits on the counter, much more than what the item is actually worth.
“I’ll return tomorrow,” he says over his shoulder, tapping the counter as he makes his exit.
The soft chime that alerts you to when the front door opens echoes throughout the room.
You’re in the backroom organizing. It’s the next day, and Boba hasn’t shown himself yet. This might be him, but it’s likely not. There are times when Boba does not come, and you are fully aware that those are times when Jabba sends him off for a job.
“Sorry. We’re closed.” You step out from the backroom and immediately freeze.
Three Nikto bikers loiter in the middle of the shop. It’s evident that they are not here to purchase anything. Their dark eyes roam over the shelves and tables, but once they notice you, they focus in, drawing closer.
“Apologies,” you say, attempting to project your voice, to sound tougher than you are. “We’ve closed for the evening. If there is something you need right away, I can ring you up. Otherwise, you’ll need to leave.” You do your best to keep your voice steady and calm, but you hear the gentle shake.
“This street is our new territory,” hisses the leader of the group. “We were stopping by to offer our…services.”
Services, meaning protection, meaning “pay us or you’ll be a target.”
Tatooine might be overrun with crime lords and criminal activity, but the main powers at play are not known to harass the smaller folks just trying to make a living. These are outliers. These are individuals who answer to no one but themselves, and believe they can carve a piece out for their own gain.
Rarely are they ever successful, but that doesn’t mean they don’t try.
Just as you open your mouth to reply, the soft chime comes again. This time everyone turns and you sigh with relief when you see who it is.
“Boba Fett,” says the Nikto slowly. His shoulders stiffen and they all put their hands on their blasters.
The bounty hunter does no answer right away. His helmet moves, scanning the Nikto, and then you, assessing. Even from across the shop, you sense Boba’s anger. There are few things that rile him up, but you’re one of them.
“It’s not smart moving in on Jabba’s territory. Or to harass what’s mine.” When Boba says mine, he growls it. The possessiveness in his tone heats your flesh, sends a sharp spike of desire down to your belly.
The Nikto all glance at each other before the leader addresses Fett. “We didn’t know the female was yours, Boba.” He holds his hands out in a placating gesture, indicating that he didn’t mean any harm. Yet you know that isn’t true. Their intention from the start was to harass you for credits.
You scoff at female but decide to let it go.
“I think it’s best that you leave.” Boba steps to the side.
The duo glance at their leader for direction. The Nikto’s features are impassive, but he eventually inclines his head, exiting as Boba insist they do. When the last one leaves, Boba momentarily glances in your direction. The door stands open, and Boba exits with him.
When it whooshes shut, you sprint over to the wall panel, immediately engaging the lock and shuttering the windows. You stand in the silent shop for a few minutes trying to calm your heartrate. Once it’s manageable, and not beating so hard it might burst from your chest, you head upstairs to your small apartment above the shop.
By the time you’re curled up in bed, you’re no longer anxious, but there is the slightest bit of tension that lingers in your limbs. Sighing, you turn over in the bed, only to hear the brief pulse of a jetpack shutting off and boots on the small balcony outside your bedroom window.
Slowly, you push up to sitting, the bedsheets falling to your waist. You know it’s Boba. He does this some nights. Camps out and protect you in the only way he knows how because you’re too stubborn to take him up on his numerous marriage proposals.
Tonight, it’s obvious as to why he’s out there. Part of you is reluctant to leave him outside. You’d prefer it if he were with you, within arm’s reach, to see him without the helmet. Plus, nights on Tatooine can grow cold. You want him inside where it’s warm.
On quiet feet, you go to the door that leads outside. Opening it silently, you stick your head out into the chilly air, finding Boba as he leans against the exterior wall, arms crossed.
“You should be in bed, cyar’ika,” chides Boba playfully.
You swallow, suddenly nervous now that you’re confronting him. “Do you want to come inside?” you ask, a bit hesitantly.
Maybe it’s the uncertainty in your tone, or the way you shrink back a bit into the interior of the room, because Boba is suddenly alert, all of his attention attuned to you.
Boba immediately pushes off from the wall and approaches you, his hand on the door, pushing it wider. “Are you hurt? Did one of them touch you?”
You shake your head vehemently. “No. I’m fine. Promise.”
Boba’s chest heaves slightly but you’re not sure if it’s from his sudden movement or a releasing of relief. He glances over his shoulder at Mos Espa, the t-shaped visor of his helmet fixated on the city’s skyline. Turning back, Boba nods.
You step away from the door and Boba enters. Even with the door closed and the windows’ shutters slanted to dim the moonlight, some of it still spills over the room like tiny white rivers.
His helmet hisses as the pressure seal disengages. Slowly, Boba lifts the helmet off his head and sets it aside on a nearby table. He runs his fingers through his dark hair, the ends sticking up slightly after he does so. With the faintest movement, Boba turns, and that moonlight cuts sharp glowing lines over his face, highlighting tanned skin and dark eyes.
You don’t even realize you’re moving closer to him until Boba grabs you by the waist and pulls you against his armor-clad body. Instinctively, your hands reach out, locking onto the beskar. Boba’s head dips and yours rises to meet him automatically, and yet there is no connection. It is simply holding, a waiting between two hesitant people.
“You haven’t asked me to marry you today,” you murmur.
The corner of Boba’s lips turns upward in a soft smile. “Will you marry me, cyar’ika?”
“No,” you say automatically, before the two of you start laughing.
“Let’s try that again.” Boba reaches up and cradles your cheek. “Cyar’ika. Will you marry me? Will you allow me to speak the words of my people? And will you speak them back?”
The words of his people. The Mandalorian marriage vows. You are distinctly aware of what they are and what they mean. Which is why Boba’s earnestness isn’t fake to you. Mandalorians take their weddings vows seriously even though the process of exchange is simple. It is the intention behind the exchange that is most important to them.
That is how you know Boba speaks the truth, that him asking you to marry him is a genuine desire of his.
“Passion does not make a relationship,” you reply.
The answer is a shift away from actually having to answer. How many times have you and Boba ended up on the floor of the backroom after rejecting him? It’s more than you can count on your hands.
“That’s all this is to you?” he laughs. “You know I can give you more. I do more than that now.”
You curl forward a bit, rest your forehead against the beskar. “I’m scared,” you whisper.
“Of what?”
“Of what will change.”
Boba’s fingers brush under your chin and lightly guide your gaze back to his. “I wouldn’t ask you to give anything up.”
“Yes, but—”
Boba gives the slightest shake of his head and you instantly quiet. “Do you want me?” he asks. “Tell the truth.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“I want you,” you breathe, allowing the words to drip off your tongue.
“May I have one of your kisses?” he asks softly, one gloved thumb lightly pressing down on your bottom lip.
“Yes,” you breathe.
Boba closes the distance, forms perfectly to you. It is slow and delicate and sweet. Your body hums with energy, and when you press for more, Boba growls and pulls back, hastily ripping off his gloves to reveal his bare hands.
Then he’s cupping the side of your face, drawing you back to him, tasting and tasting and tasting until your fingers are clawing at him in desperation. When he breaks the kiss, you still lean forward as if you can reach him.
“Then repeat the words with me, cyar’ika. Become my riduur.”
Boba presses his lips to yours, draws forth an air-stealing shiver from deep within your lungs.
“Mhi solus tome.”
“Mhi solus tome,” you repeat.
We are one together.
Boba slides an arm around your waist to drape softly over your curves. “Mhi solus dar’tome,” he says.
You say it back to him. “Mhi solus dar’tome.”
We are one when parted.
“Mhi me’dinui an.”
“Mhi me’dinui an.”
We share all.
This time, Boba slots his pelvis against yours, and you understand his heated intention.
“Mhi ba’juri verde.”
“Mhi ba’juri verde,” you say with shaky breath.
We will raise warriors.
Boba snuggles the side of your neck, breathes in your scent. “I’d like to lay with my riduur.” His fingers find the edge of your sleeping robes.
“As long as I can have my riduur the same way.”
Boba grins against your throat. Together, the two of you remove his armor, piece by piece by piece. The moment his flightsuit is unzipped and he steps out of it, Boba is on you, drawing your lips to his, desperately claiming what is now so rightfully his.
Your own clothes are gone before making it to the bed. Boba runs his hands over your back, sliding down to lift you into his arms. Your legs wrap around his middle, and Boba carries you off, placing you gently onto your back.
His mouth upon your skin is a brand. Hot. Searing. It goes lower, lower still until you’re crying out for him, begging for him to be with you as your riduur should. Boba is happy to do so, sliding between your thighs so perfectly, you both lose yourselves momentarily before becoming nothing but a raging storm, waves crashing into each other repeatedly until one of you breaks.
Rest does not come until the morning suns begin to ascend over the horizon. You do not open your shop. And Boba does not return to Jabba’s palace.
There is peace for a while.
Harmony.
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