Author's Note: On my recent wave of feels after Anakin's cameo in Ahsoka, I couldn't stop thinking about powerful Jedi Steve Rogers, who was once galaxy's hope, turning dark. This is very loosely inspired by Anakin's storyline, without going full on Vader-look (because Steve's face is too pretty to cover it with that ugly helmet; sorry, I make the rules here).
summary: You followed your Master when he gave in to the dark side, not believing the twisted values the Emperor spew, but because you couldn't imagine being anywhere other than by Steve's side. Even if you accepted the fact Steve's heart may forever belong to the woman he once loved.
warnings: angst; hurt/comfort; soft dark!Steve Rogers; some power imbalance; choking kink; implied age gap (since Steve was the Reader's Master), but Reader is of age
The threat of thudding footsteps caused a spike of fear among the Imperial officers passing in the corridor outside - you sensed the stench of it. You could easily imagine them scattering away as quickly as possible, or trying to blend with the walls.
As cowardly as it was, it was also wise. Finding yourself in the path of an angry Sith Lord would end badly.
Thankfully, the medical droid stitching up your leg had no real human feelings, so it continued its work without a hitch even as the seal to the med bay opened and Steve stormed in.
All in his towering, dark glory.
Black robe swiping the floor, deadly lightsaber strapped to the utility belt, shiny buckles on the reinforced leather gloves on his hands.
Darth Nomad. Sith Lord.
Once upon a time a great, idealistic Jedi Master, Steve Rogers.
Though the Jedi Order no longer existed and his path had turned dark and bloody, he still remained Steve to you.
Only in privacy. Always in your heart, even as you addressed him as Master or Nomad when other's ears and eyes were on you. He owned you; his claws ran far deeper and clutched stronger than Palpatine’s influence on him.
You harbored a crush on your Master for years, hiding your thoughts and longing every day. As well every night, when you rested in your chamber at the Jedi temple and he returned into the arms of his beloved wife in her lush suite.
When you followed Steve to kneel at the Emperor's feet and pledge loyalty to the dark side, you perfectly sold the lie of the ambitious, proud apprentice who was bitter the Jedi were too weak. You claimed to want to continue your training and be on the winning side, the side of true power.
What you truly wanted was to be with Steve, even if it was only to suffer unrequited love as you helped him drown the world in blood.
The Emperor somehow bought it, or maybe simply thought it useful to have you serve the Empire, no matter your actual motivation.
However, Steve saw right through you.
He didn't confront you right away. Not for months. Until the two of you were on a solo quest, treading through the lush flora of an outer-rim planet, searching for an ancient artifact - much like you used to do as Jedi.
Did he catch you looking at his profile too long? Did he sense the change in your heartbeat whenever he was close? Was your Force bond so strong that he glimpsed into your desperate dreams?
Or maybe Steve simply knew you so well, after all the years.
When he reached for you, when he touched you, you knew it could deepen your later suffering. But you still gave in, if only for one night. If only you could taste him and fall apart under his command this one time.
But it wasn’t just one night. Nor a few chance encounters over the years.
Whatever it was between the two of you, has become a regularity. A wicked norm that sated, as well enhanced the craving that’s been burning inside of you. It seemed there was never enough; the desire for him simmered beneath your skin every day and your desperate love pushed you further into howling darkness.
Eerie, that love was what pushed Steve to the dark side as well.
There were other factors, layers upon layers, but it was the heart that sealed the deal. For the both of you.
Your tragedy was that Steve’s heart would never be yours.
So you fed off on everything else you were given - Steve’s attention, his lust, his protectiveness.
Which was why he stomped through the Executor like a deadly storm cloud - in his case, literally deadly - led by rage.
You knew it was mostly directed at the scum who dared to wound you, but some of it was also at you. For being careless in your small mission, which you attempted to keep secret from him.
His black cloak floated ominously around Steve as he stepped inside; his fingers clenched into fists, stretching the leather of his gloves.
“How serious is the injury?” Even in anger, Steve’s voice remained calm.
You opened your mouth to say it’s not that bad, but he gave you a pointed look that meant he wasn’t talking to you and that you were in serious trouble. The kind that may end with your ass bruised.
“A level two blaster wound to the thigh,” the medical droid reported. “It missed the artery and the muscle will rebuild with the protein enhancer we’ve injected. Patient’s skin has been sutured.”
Steve’s gaze flicked to your bare leg, eyes narrowing as he assessed the dressing over your wound. The droid wasn’t bothered by it, but if a living person was here instead, they’d sweat in fear of his disapproval.
“The patient may experience impaired mobility for the next day. No other complications are expected.”
Steve nodded, his eyes still on your leg. Though his trimmed beard gentled the sharp line of his jaw, you still saw the nervous tick of muscle. Then his gaze shifted along your half-dressed body and settled on your face.
He stepped closer to the bed and cupped your chin. Scent of familiar leather pleasantly dispersed the annoying smell of medical antiseptics.
“I’m gone for two days and you get yourself in trouble, Stardust.” Steve squeezed your chin a tad harder. “Should I keep you at my side at all times, like an irresponsible apprentice freshly in training?”
“Or-” he leaned in; the blue of his eyes searing like his old lightsaber- “maybe I’ll confiscate your weapon and keep you as a bedwarmer only?”
Before you managed to utter I’m sorry for failing, Master, Steve was lifting you in his arms. Stealing your breath with the gesture.
One arm beneath your knees, the other under your back. Your heart stopped for a moment, then rushed in a rapid pattern as he carried you out of the med bay.
It had to be a bizarre sight - the Dark Lord of the Sith, most feared in the whole galaxy Darth Nomad, who snapped necks with a flick of a wrist; was carrying a woman through the Star Dreadnought.
However, no one dared to stare, or even flick a curious glance your way.
Steve showed softness when you both laid spent after fucking, or simply wrapping an arm around your middle when you were sleeping, but he never carried you like that.
Even when he wanted you in a certain position when he fucked you, he either told you to do it the right way, or used the Force to bend your body how he wished.
Being cradled in his arms, out in the open, soothed that deep longing for true care on his part. Taunted you with deep feeling that you knew would never be real.
“Something’s troubling you.” Steve stated when the double-sealed entrance to his (and yours) chambers closed behind you. “And it’s not your injury, I sense.”
He crossed the space to the bedroom, where cold blue light changed into unsettling red that you learned to associate with safety. Black and red used to mean the enemy, the danger, even death, but Steve made you love it. Conditioned you to see it as the setting you belonged in.
“Well, my failure in successfully finishing my deal on Serenno,” you shrugged, but instantly cringed as you felt that lie failed miserably.
You weren’t a bad liar. When it came to Steve, however, it was as if the ability was malfunctioning.
At least ever since he slipped his gloved finger between your lips for the first time and softly commanded you to admit how much you craved him.
You yelped as Steve suddenly dropped you onto the bed. The muscle in your thigh spasmed, sending a painful jolt. Fingers gripping the dark sheets, you breathed through the wave of ache as you lifted your gaze to look at Steve.
His black robe dropped to the floor. He set his lightsaber down on the black, lacquered table, then unbuckled his utility belt. It fell to the floor with a dull thud.
“You do not lie to me, Stardust,” Steve’s glare was a warning as he braced his hands on his hips and waited for your honesty.
The reason hidden deep in your heart could bring you more trouble than withholding the truth from Steve. You feared speaking it aloud may cut you out of Steve’s life completely, if he learned that you were desperate for so much more than his cock.
But there was no way of hiding it from him for long. Not when he was on a hunt to rip that truth out of you.
Steve would get to it one way, or another. One could perhaps be a sexually torturous way, but there was also a chance of him reaping it from your mind with the Force.
You took a deep breath, forcing a cold sheet to form around your fluttering heart and make you seem indifferent to your own emotions, like you did at the beginning of your life on the dark side. Your fingers tightened their grip on the smooth, dark sheets.
“Your gesture startled me,” you admitted. “I know I’m of certain value to you, as a lover and as a former Padawan. Being carried like that, like you cared, incited foolish thoughts in my head.”
Steve’s eyes narrowed as a frown marred his forehead. His head tilted slightly to the side, his gaze never allowing yours to drop.
“Elaborate,” he requested, but you knew that despite the calm tone it was a command.
“It almost ignited a stupid hope to have your heart,” you spat out bitterly, “which would never happen, I’m aware, Master. I know there was only one woman who had your heart and it lies buried with your wife.”
With the woman who wasn’t strong enough to pull him off that edge of destruction, nor had the guts to fall with him and rule by his side.
Steve’s hand shot forward, fingers curled in an open grip. The yank of incredibly powerful Force pulled your body upwards, as if you were a featherlight ragdoll. He made your body flow in the air, inches above the floor.
The pressure around your neck cinched. He wasn’t touching you, yet it felt as if Steve’s gloved fingers were wrapped around the front of your neck, squeezing your throat.
It spiked fear and adrenaline, but also roused your body in ways no other lover ever could.
Your body froze in place right in front of Steve, the Force still keeping you hanging in the air.
“You are right to say my heart was buried with my wife.” Steve growled through clenched teeth. “It’s left in the past that we burned to the ground.”
A gasp escaped your lips as Steve’s hand firmly wrapped around your neck. Though he still used the Force to move your body, it was also his sheer strength behind his movement as he walked you backwards until your back met the wall.
“You’re not in my heart, Stardust, because I no longer have one,” his hot breath tickled your cheek as Steve’s face inched even closer.
“You’re not my love. You’re more. You’re m i n e.”
What filled your heart felt similar to the overwhelming lightness you used to be connected with, once upon a time.
The Force eased back and your body sagged, but Steve’s hand was still firm on your throat. Holding you up as your toes tried to reach the floor and give you some support.
No, he wouldn’t let you down easily. He would drive in the point that he was your support. He was your sustenance. He would hold you up, as well destroy you.
“You’re my fucking everything!”
Steve bit your bottom lip, making you cry out at the sudden sting. Then the flick of his tongue soothed it before he swiped between your parted lips. The way Steve kissed you was more consuming than the darkness you dwelled in; more burning than the lightsaber’s blade.
When he pulled away, your lips were swollen and tingling, and your cunt was pulsing with need.
“You’ll repent for endangering what’s mine-” Steve’s chuckle was a brush of tempting darkness as his free hand slid up your wounded thigh- “tomorrow, when it’s fully healed.”
“Yes, Master,” you moaned as his fingers changed their course and teased your folds beneath the short, medical robe.
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