All of my stories are always dark. There is Noncon, dubcon, degradation, humiliation, and these men just doing heinous things to ‘y/n’ I recommend looking at the things already posted before sending a request.
Acceptance of the request depends solely on if I feel in touch with that character or not <3
I am currently obsessed with Star Wars, The Secret History and DC, so if you send a request for any of the three characters listed, the likelihood of me writing something about them is very high.
Thinking about how utterly humiliating it'd be to be forced to ride your yandere-
Tw: non-con, dub-con, extreme feelings of guilt and shame, reader is an active participant in their own assault
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It's bad enough when he pins you down to whatever surface is nearby, taking whatever he wants from you, forcing you to take whatever he gives you. It's bad enough that you're helpless to his advances, that he can so easily overpower you, use you like his own personal toy. It's bad enough that he fucks you so good, hitting that spot that has you nearly screaming, keeping up the relentless pace until your legs shake, and making sure you always cum at least once, though he always always tries for more.
It's worse when he pulls you on top of him. At least when you're underneath him you can say it's not your fault, that you have no hand in what happens to you.
But now, as you straddle his waist, his cock buried deep inside you, he tells you to "ride me, come on, just the way you like it" you feel shame wash over you. He's your kidnapper, he took everything from you, and now he wants you to be an active participant in your torment. Everything in your rebels against the idea, tells you to fight it, to hold onto your pride at any and all costs. But it's not like you have a choice, you know what disobeying him means- you've faced too many punishments to risk another.
Shame eats at you as you begin to move, hesitant and humiliated, but unwilling to disobey. You rock your hips, trying not to shutter with every drag of his length along your walls. You're so wet for him and you know he can tell. You close your eyes, you don't want to see the way he's looking at you, can't bare to see the adoration in his eyes when you fuck yourself on his cock and he can't help but whisper that you're "such a good girl for me".
You hate that it feels good, that even your leisurely pace is making you bite back moans and fight the urge to ride him harder, to make yourself cum, and to feel him cum too. He grabs your hips, guiding you to pick up the pace a little, and you curse that he knows exactly what you like. He knows just how to guide your movements to make you tremble and whimper as he fucks you, he knows exactly what will have you moaning and gushing around him. He knows exactly how to make you his perfect little whore.
It's too much- the absolute misery of the situation is more than you can bear. You're riding your kidnapper, moaning and crying out for him, feeling your orgasm creep up on you too fast. It’s humiliating in a way that nothing else can compare to, nothing he’s ever done to you has been quite so potently horrid.
You can't tell if he's still forcing your hips into the rhythm or if you've given into it, can't really tell if he's thrusting up into you or if your just bouncing on his cock that hard- but you're so close, and he feels so good inside you, and you want to cum so bad. You should be fighting this, but you’re not. You’re rocking your hips against his and whining his name and begging for more.
"Gonna cum?" He asks, voice a little bit teasing but mostly breathless at the way you move above him and the way you feel around him. He tells you all the time that he loves you, that you belong to him, that he’d do anything to keep you all to himself. In moments like this, it’s easy to believe that. You nod, desperate for release. "Go on, then,” he encourages, moving his hips against yours to meet you halfway as you move.
You do- with a desperate cry of his name you feel your orgasm wash over you, crashing down on you and you can think of nothing else but his length filling you up, hitting so deep inside you and stretching you out so wide. It's so dirty; knowing you threw away all your morality and pride for this- you let yourself be used by man you should hate just so you could get off, you practically begged him for it.
Because no matter how your mind tries to convince itself this isn't what you want, your body knows this is exactly what you want.
Warnings (for this chapter): Noncon fingering + pussy spanking + kissing. Anakin being really fucking scary. Anakin being possessive. Humiliation. Degradation.
It hurt. It hurt a lot. You did not know how Anakin had managed to stuff you full of two of his large fingers, but he had, and you were struggling around them while your hands tried to push his hand away. He did not order you to stop resisting, just watched you struggle - amused.
His lips pressed against your ear, tongue licking the shell, biting into it as he fucked his fingers in and out slowly but deeply. He kept his yellow eyes on you, watching your reactions closely, chuckling at your tears as he stretched you out.
"Have you ever put a finger in this little thing, baby?"
You shook your head, your hand still trying to push his away. "H-Hurts!"
"It is supposed to. We need to stretch this little cunt out before I take it, don't you think? Or you'll tear when I fuck you." He kissed your cheek as if he was not doing what he was doing - as if he was not saying what he was saying. You cried at the words, tightening and feeling a mess leaking out of you. You did not know what your body was doing - you were utterly overwhelmed, and Anakin fucking loved the sight. He had cameras recording all of this.
"Dumb little girl," he muttered. "Walking straight into my room, begging me to be your master, and now you can't even handle me."
He took his fingers out and spanked your cunt. You screamed, covering it with both your hands. Anakin chuckled, almost throwing his head back.
"Adorable," he muttered. "Trying to protect your little hole from me, hm? You don't want it red and swollen? You don't want it filled? Let's make a deal, little one."
His lips pressed against your ear, and his large hand rested onto your smaller ones. He moved his hand up and down, making your palms rub your stinging cunt. You whimpered in complaint.
"If you remove your hands, I will slap your cunt just ten times. If you do not, I will tie your hands and spank it throughout the journey."
You hiccuped, tears streaming down your face. "P-Please don't make me-"
"Choose."
"Master-"
"Second option, hm?"
"Wait, no-"
"Too late." He grabbed your wrists with one hand and tied them with a rope behind your back while you begged for mercy. But his eyes were now not only completely yellow, but they had also become brighter.
He pushed at your hips, making you display both of your holes to him, and no amount of begging and crying was going to stop him now.
His one hand pulled up your robes, exposing your tits, and he cupped one, playing with the nipple brutally, almost crushing it between his mechanical fingers.
Under the beautiful display of the hyperspace, his hand came down onto your cunt, and you screamed.
"AH!" Your legs struggled to close.
"Look at it."
Anakin grabbed the back of your neck and made you look.
Your cunt was red, completely red, and your poor clit was peaking out, swollen. The worst part was that it was wet. There was wetness all over it.
"Now," his voice was dangerously low. You felt yourself shaking. "Watch what happens when dumb little girls don't listen."
His hand came down again and again, and he made you watch as your cunt turned a deep shade of red, your clit getting more swollen and drool sneaking out from the sides of your mouth, mixing with your tears, as you screamed and cried. Anakin was precise. He hit your clit and hole with every slap, sometimes even spanking that lower hole he could not wait to stretch.
"My poor little padawan." His voice whispered in the cockpit. Your eyes were barely open as all of your body trembled. Even the brutal crushing of your nipples between his fingers could not get more than a pathetic whimper out of you. His hand rubbed your cunt in a circle, messing it up with your slick as his eyes looked down at your face in faux pity.
"It's so red, isn't it? I bet no one has treated my dumb little slut like this. No one has treated this little virgin cunt like this, making it all red and swollen with that poor clit throbbing. You're all confused, aren't you? Confused why it's leaking because leaking means you like it, does it not?" He kissed your lips gently, still rubbing your cunt. "Do you know what this means? Hm?"
You shook your head, still softly crying and whimpering, scared of what'd happen if you didn't answer in at least some way.
"It means you're a little painslut." His lips pressed against your forehead. "It means that your cunt likes it when I hurt it. It means that you're a whore, baby. A little whore padawan whose body is nothing but a set of three holes waiting to be used and abused by someone like me. You should be so happy it's me, baby. What if someone else hurt this cunt, hm? They wouldn't even do it this nicely, by making you lie on their lap and kiss your face while they do it. No. They'd just tie you up from the ceiling and whip that little cunt. And that would be too mean for my little whore, won't it?" He slapped your cunt when you didn't instantly agree. You screamed. "Won't it?"
You nodded rapidly.
He smiled, and for a moment, he looked like the teenage Anakin.
But then his two fingers sneaked into your cunt, fucking up your insides brutally with no care as you leaked onto the floor, whimpering against his lips as you came.
He kept you like that the whole time you were in hyperspace, making sure that your cunt would remember the treatment for weeks. He confused your mind with pain and pleasure till they blended into one, till you were drooling out of your mouth, your tears covering your face, and all the fight had completely left your body.
Warnings (for this chapter): Noncon fingering + pussy spanking + kissing. Anakin being really fucking scary. Anakin being possessive. Humiliation. Degradation.
It hurt. It hurt a lot. You did not know how Anakin had managed to stuff you full of two of his large fingers, but he had, and you were struggling around them while your hands tried to push his hand away. He did not order you to stop resisting, just watched you struggle - amused.
His lips pressed against your ear, tongue licking the shell, biting into it as he fucked his fingers in and out slowly but deeply. He kept his yellow eyes on you, watching your reactions closely, chuckling at your tears as he stretched you out.
"Have you ever put a finger in this little thing, baby?"
You shook your head, your hand still trying to push his away. "H-Hurts!"
"It is supposed to. We need to stretch this little cunt out before I take it, don't you think? Or you'll tear when I fuck you." He kissed your cheek as if he was not doing what he was doing - as if he was not saying what he was saying. You cried at the words, tightening and feeling a mess leaking out of you. You did not know what your body was doing - you were utterly overwhelmed, and Anakin fucking loved the sight. He had cameras recording all of this.
"Dumb little girl," he muttered. "Walking straight into my room, begging me to be your master, and now you can't even handle me."
He took his fingers out and spanked your cunt. You screamed, covering it with both your hands. Anakin chuckled, almost throwing his head back.
"Adorable," he muttered. "Trying to protect your little hole from me, hm? You don't want it red and swollen? You don't want it filled? Let's make a deal, little one."
His lips pressed against your ear, and his large hand rested onto your smaller ones. He moved his hand up and down, making your palms rub your stinging cunt. You whimpered in complaint.
"If you remove your hands, I will slap your cunt just ten times. If you do not, I will tie your hands and spank it throughout the journey."
You hiccuped, tears streaming down your face. "P-Please don't make me-"
"Choose."
"Master-"
"Second option, hm?"
"Wait, no-"
"Too late." He grabbed your wrists with one hand and tied them with a rope behind your back while you begged for mercy. But his eyes were now not only completely yellow, but they had also become brighter.
He pushed at your hips, making you display both of your holes to him, and no amount of begging and crying was going to stop him now.
His one hand pulled up your robes, exposing your tits, and he cupped one, playing with the nipple brutally, almost crushing it between his mechanical fingers.
Under the beautiful display of the hyperspace, his hand came down onto your cunt, and you screamed.
"AH!" Your legs struggled to close.
"Look at it."
Anakin grabbed the back of your neck and made you look.
Your cunt was red, completely red, and your poor clit was peaking out, swollen. The worst part was that it was wet. There was wetness all over it.
"Now," his voice was dangerously low. You felt yourself shaking. "Watch what happens when dumb little girls don't listen."
His hand came down again and again, and he made you watch as your cunt turned a deep shade of red, your clit getting more swollen and drool sneaking out from the sides of your mouth, mixing with your tears, as you screamed and cried. Anakin was precise. He hit your clit and hole with every slap, sometimes even spanking that lower hole he could not wait to stretch.
"My poor little padawan." His voice whispered in the cockpit. Your eyes were barely open as all of your body trembled. Even the brutal crushing of your nipples between his fingers could not get more than a pathetic whimper out of you. His hand rubbed your cunt in a circle, messing it up with your slick as his eyes looked down at your face in faux pity.
"It's so red, isn't it? I bet no one has treated my dumb little slut like this. No one has treated this little virgin cunt like this, making it all red and swollen with that poor clit throbbing. You're all confused, aren't you? Confused why it's leaking because leaking means you like it, does it not?" He kissed your lips gently, still rubbing your cunt. "Do you know what this means? Hm?"
You shook your head, still softly crying and whimpering, scared of what'd happen if you didn't answer in at least some way.
"It means you're a little painslut." His lips pressed against your forehead. "It means that your cunt likes it when I hurt it. It means that you're a whore, baby. A little whore padawan whose body is nothing but a set of three holes waiting to be used and abused by someone like me. You should be so happy it's me, baby. What if someone else hurt this cunt, hm? They wouldn't even do it this nicely, by making you lie on their lap and kiss your face while they do it. No. They'd just tie you up from the ceiling and whip that little cunt. And that would be too mean for my little whore, won't it?" He slapped your cunt when you didn't instantly agree. You screamed. "Won't it?"
You nodded rapidly.
He smiled, and for a moment, he looked like the teenage Anakin.
But then his two fingers sneaked into your cunt, fucking up your insides brutally with no care as you leaked onto the floor, whimpering against his lips as you came.
He kept you like that the whole time you were in hyperspace, making sure that your cunt would remember the treatment for weeks. He confused your mind with pain and pleasure till they blended into one, till you were drooling out of your mouth, your tears covering your face, and all the fight had completely left your body.
Warnings (for this chapter): Noncon touching + kissing. Anakin being scary. Anakin being possessive. Humiliation. Anakin also being kinda...nice? Calm?
. . .
For the millionth time, you couldn't believe you were in this position. You were placed on Anakin's lap, his one arm wrapped around your waist, his chin brushing the top of your head as he flew the ship. His large hand was resting on your waist, rubbing it up and down so casually like he was doing something he always did, something very ordinary.
Soon, the ship was in hyperspace, and Anakin relaxed on his seat, pulling you till you were forced to lie on his chest. You kept your eyes fixed on the beautiful hyperspace, trying to ignore the monster holding you captive.
"Little one," he murmured. "You look beautiful with the light of stars on your face." His mechanical hand cupped your face and pulled at it till you were forced to meet his eyes. His eyes were only slightly yellow, somehow gentle for the first time. His lips pressed against your forehead. "My love." His lips brushed your cheek gently.
He did that for a while. You held your breath. His lips brushed all over his face, kissing as if worshipping. For a few moments, he was the soft Anakin you sometimes watched from afar. When he was normal.
"We should be there in a few hours," he said. "You should get some sleep." He moved you till you were lying sideways on his lap, your head resting on his chest.
"I-I can go to the co-pilot seat-"
"No." Yellow flickered in his eyes. "Sit still."
You did.
Slowly, his steady breathing and the slight noise of the ship lulled you to sleep. The last thing you vaguely remembered was Anakin pressed his lips against you in a brief kiss, zooming through the stars.
. . .
"W-what are we doing on...Alderaan, master?"
He helped you down the ship, basically carrying you in his arms. "Some business with Senator Organa. Come on."
You both walked inside and were warmly welcomed. You smiled shyly, answering the questions that the senator and others asked during dinner, and before you knew it, you were in a guest room, wondering what business Anakin had with the senator. But, no matter how curious you were, you would never ask.
You had to find a way to get out of being his apprentice. You didn't know how that could happen. He had even taken your lightsaber, and your ass was bruised because of him. He had taken full control of your life in mere weeks.
Telling Obi-Wan always seemed like a good idea, but at the same time, Anakin was close to him. What if he didn't listen? What if you were just labelled as a liar by the whole Jedi order? People worshipped Anakin while they tolerated you. You might be beautiful, but strength with the Force is power in the Jedi Order.
The door opened.
Your eyes fell upon Anakin as he entered and casually closed the door. "Why aren't you sleeping?"
"I-I couldn't, master. It's a new place."
He took off his robe, leaving himself in his trousers. He set his lightsaber down beside his neatly folded robe and walked towards you with unhurried, intimidating steps. You gulped at the showcase of strength his body was, his dark mechanical hand a contrast to his skin. His abs were easily defined, and a few scars littered his body. He was a general who was fighting in the Cole Wars; of course, he was built to the bone.
It made you terrified. It made you nervous. In no aspect whatsoever could you ever overpower him. Force. Physical strength.
"A-are you going to sleep here?"
"Yes."
He got into the bed, pulling you to his side easily, his arm curled under your waist, dragging you to his chest.
"I-I can do to the other room if you l-like this one better-"
He chuckled. "I like my little Padawan sleeping on me." His large hand travelled down and grabbed your ass. You winced. Your ass was still tender from the punishment he had given you.
He didn't react, he just petted your ass, keeping his hand there. Slowly, he fell asleep while you lay tensed in his arms, biting a hole through your bottom lip in anxiety.
Only when the morning came did your exhausted eyes finally drop into a troubled sleep filled with flashing yellow eyes, dark smirks and, for some reason, a muscular, giant hand holding a red lightsaber.
. . .
Anakin was a shadow you could not shake. If he wasn't following you, R2D2 was. The little white and blue droid was everywhere, and sometimes both of them were there, watching over you.
The trip to Alderaan proved to be some preparation for a humanitarian mission the Jedi were to be given, to go around a Separatist blockade to supply food to a small planet. The mission was for your master and Master Kenobi. You would just tag along.
Soon, the plans were finalised, and before long, you and Anakin were back in his ship, with you sitting on his lap, and back in hyperspace. Now, he was tense. The yellow of his eyes was obvious, and now you knew enough to know that he was about to do something brutal.
"Are you tired?" Maker, even his voice had deepened. It rumbled through your body, making it tremble in fear.
"No, master-"
His giant hands landed on your thighs, and before you knew it, he had spread your legs, pulled your robes open, and somehow immobilized them in a way that you could only move your knees, not your feet.
"W-wait- what are you doing-"
"Spread."
"What-"
"Spread."
You spread your knees, trembling like a leaf. His large hands ripped your trousers and pulled your tunic up, exposing just your simple panties covering you.
"Do you know-" he began, his rough, large hands resting on your soft inner thighs, rubbing up and down, "- how many men were looking at you, little one? How many of them couldn't fucking tear their eyes away from my padawan? They wanted to fuck you. They wanted to bend you over and use all your holes." You whimpered at the words, shaking your head, small hands trembling with the effort to not grab his hands and try to tug them away.
"W-wait- they weren't- t-they-"
"I could feel it," he said. "The Force tells me everything, little one. Their desire, your fear."
His finger brushed your pussy, and you flinched at the touch. His lips pressed against your ear, and he tugged a finger inside your panties, touching your bare hole.
"So small," he muttered. "Let's stretch this cunt out, yes?"
Warnings (for this chapter): Noncon spanking. Anakin being scary. Anakin being possessive.
Anakin's eyes dragged over your body. You were wearing tiny pyjamas. Your nipples were poking through the white cloth. Anakin clenched his jaw to stop himself from bending you over instantly. No. He was going to take his sweet time. He was going to ease you into his depravity.
He walked closer. You were frozen in shock, but flinched away as he moved. You ran to the door, your terror not allowing you to stand still, but his one large arm wrapped around your waist and turned you, pressing your back to his front. You were facing the mirror, and you gasped in horror as you saw the giant man behind you, his arm wrapped like a statue's, and his eyes yellow.
Completely yellow.
A groan went through his body as you struggled, unconsciously rubbing his hard cock on your back. "You're so weak, little one. It fucking kills me."
"Wait, master- w-what are you doing-"
He chuckled and let you go, turning you around. "Calm down, Padawan. I'm your master, not a Sith lord who is here to corrupt a pure little Jedi."
He sat on the edge of your bed, a smile still on his face. "I told you I was going to come get you for dinner, did I not?"
"Y-yes, but you didn't knock-"
"I am your Master," he interrupted. "Were you doing something a padawan shouldn't?"
"No, not at all-"
"Then you should not have a problem with this." He stood, looking down at you. "You knew I was coming, yet you're dressed like this." He sighed, as if disappointed. His large hand grabbed your shoulder, and before you knew it, he was sitting down on a chair with you bent over his lap.
You frozen, head spinning for a moment. Wait, what was happening?
"M-master-"
"If you're going to act like a brat who can't even dress herself, I am going to treat you like one." Calm voice. Dark voice. It had deepened, and he chuckled as your body jerked with panic, struggling in his hold. He was not even using his hands to keep you still; he was using the Force. And your Force could never counter with his, no matter how much you tried.
Before you knew it, his hand (thankfully, the human one) raised and slapped against your half-naked ass. You screamed, biting into your fingers, tears instantly spilling out. "S-stop-"
"Take your punishment," he ordered, voice booming in your room - your safe haven destroyed by his presence.
Your small hands grabbed his thighs, trying to lift yourself up.
But every bit of strength left you, and his hand came down again, reddening your flesh, making it burn with pain. Maker, you could feel the handprint. You sobbed, hands trembling, legs sluggishly kicking.
He chuckled. You felt something hard pocking your stomach. You gasped for breath, now desperate.
"P-please," you begged. "M-master-" You couldn't stop whimpering. "I-it hurts-"
"I know it does." He patted your head, so condescending. "You should be happy you have such an...involved master, padawan. I will give you just ten. You can cry all you want, but under my care, I will do whatever the fuck I want to you. You chose this, remember."
Your cries echoed in the room as his hand rained down again and again, sometimes stopping to shush you gently, other times just petting your head and ass as if you were a pet. When he was done, he let you lie there, crying, as he rubbed your back.
You felt lightheaded. You couldn't believe he did this. You'd tell someone. You had to. But who? Obi-Wan? Would he listen?
Would anyone listen to anything against the Chosen One? Would anyone listen to a little Padawan going against her master?
Anakin picked you up and sat you down on his lap, chuckling again as you cried out.
His mechanical hand cupped your face and wiped your tears. His thumb brushed your bottom lip, and his yellow eyes looks into your teary, red ones.
"Are you sorry?"
You stay quiet, gasping for breath.
"Well, I suppose you haven't had enough."
Tears spilled out instantly. "N-no, please, m-master. I am sorry! I-I am so sorry f-for being a bad p-padawan-"
Anakin smirked, and his lips pressed against your cheek. "Good girl." He picked you up and set you on your bed. "Stay here. I will bring us something to eat. Dare leave the bed, and I will make what happened just now a fucking fairytale, yes?"
All you could do was fearfully nod.
. . .
It was a nightmare. To go to the cafeteria, to sit down with the other padawans, to eat, all while your ass burned with the pain your master had given you. The master who was sitting with Obi-Wan and smirking like he had done nothing wrong. He hadn't looked at you even once, and that somehow intensified the humiliation.
You knew with certainty that this could not be normal. No master did this, much less to a grown-up Padawan. Your utensils shook in your hand, and you avoided everyone's eyes, even when they tried to talk to you. Most of them probably figured you must have had a hard mission. So many of them were jealous of you, continuously asking what Anakin was teaching you.
After breakfast, Master Kenobi approached you with his gentle smile. "Are you feeling alright, Padawan? You looked a bit tired. I hope Anakin is not being cruel to you."
You hesitated. He is, you wanted to say. Please stop him. I am terrified. He has everyone fooled. He has you fooled!
But Anakin, for the first time that day, looked at you. His smile stayed in place, and only his head tilted slightly as he stared from the corner of the cafeteria where he was talking to some of the other masters. That was enough for you to freeze and nod rapidly towards Master Kenobi.
"I-I am fine, master. Just didn't get much sleep."
He smiled again, putting a hand on your shoulder. You didn't see, but Anakin's eyes burned at the sight.
"Take care. You know where to find me if you need me, yes?"
You nodded and he walked away, squeezing your shoulder gently.
Your master approached you, taking his long, casual steps, his hands in the pockets of his robes. He tilted his head down, looking you in the eye. "We have a mission, little one. Let go."
"W-where?"
He just smirked. "No unnecessary questions, padawan."
Warnings (for this chapter): Anakin being controlling and really intense.
No one knew what had shifted in Anakin Skywalker, but something had. He had gotten...bigger, more muscular. His eyes had gotten serious, and when he smiled, no genuineness flickered in it.
Perhaps some of them could have sensed Anakin's change in the Force, but Anakin was too good at hiding it. He was a master at the Force; he could use it and wield it as well as he could his lightsaber.
The only one who sensed something was wrong was Obi-Wan, but his old padawan would not let even a flicker of whatever he was hiding show. Obi-Wan felt relieved when he found out that Anakin had finally taken a Padawan. He took that as a sign that Anakin was finally okay.
If only he had looked deeper, he would have seen the obsessed look in Anakin's eyes whenever he looked at you. The sheer possessiveness, the hunger, the desire to possess your very fucking soul.
You didn't notice it either. You were terrified of him; he was a quiet, giant, ridiculously skilled man who had somehow agreed to become your master.
You went for training, and while you trained, you followed the orders he gave in his deep voice, and as he circled you, his arms folded against his chest, his eyes firmly on every move you made. You felt exposed. Naked. Like he could see everything.
You made too many mistakes, and he shook his head every time you said sorry. He pushed you till your arms were aching and the lightsaber was trembling in your hands. He gently took the lightsaber away with his giant hand and set it in his pocket.
"You'll have it back when you can handle it, little one."
"What? But how am I to train without it?"
He lowered his head till he was looking right into your eyes. "How younglings do, with a wooden stick."
"But-"
"No," he said, softly, dangerously. You almost jerked away. "You say 'Yes, master.' You're my padawan, and I know what is best for you. Now, what do you say, little one?"
Why was there so much danger in a Jedi Knight's voice? You felt like you could suffocate on the tension.
You opened your trembling lips, keeping your eyes anywhere away from him, and whispered, "Y-Yes, Master."
His large, prosthetic hand raised, and he cupped the side of your face gently. "That's a good girl. Let's go for lunch now, yes?"
You had no choice but to nod.
. . .
He did not give you your lightsaber back. You were grateful that he always trained you in his private training room; otherwise, anyone finding out that your master had taken away your lightsaber would have been humiliating.
The next day, he gave you the wooden stick he wanted you to use. You looked up at him, wanting to say something, to ask to at least have your lightsaber, even if he wasn't going to let you use it.
But just looking at his blue eyes that had a tinge of yellow in them, you couldn't speak. His presence was too much; it filled the room. You were hyperaware of where he stood, how he moved, as if a prey in a standoff with its predator.
"Now, that was better, wasn't it?" He said after the training, his voice holding that same gentleness that was lined with the danger that made goosebumps rise on your arms. "Keep being good, and I will give you your lightsaber back. You'll be good, won't you?" Prosthetic hand raised, and tipped up your head. You avoided his eyes and nodded.
"Words, padawan."
"Y-" It was too hard to speak. Maker, why had you asked him to train you? "Yes, m-master-"
"Good girl." His hand cupped the side of your face, and the thumb brushed your under-eye as he looked deep into your eyes. "You know I can sense how nervous I make you, right?"
"I-I know-"
He smirked, fingers curling slightly, cupping your cheek. "Why are you scared of me, little one? Have I hurt you, hm?"
"No...no, master."
"Then why?" He asked, gently, darkly, and he stepped closer. You took a step back. His head tilted, and before you knew it, you were backed up against the wall, his hand still cupping your face.
You were breathing heavily, and your heart seemed to make your whole body shake.
He leaned closer. "Acting like a little girl when you're a Jedi padawan, hm? Such a shame. I have a lot to teach you, little one. It's a good thing I am your master now, isn't it?" A pause. "I said, isn't it?"
"Y-Yes-" you choked out, lips trembling. "Yes, m-master."
He let go of your face. "Run along now. I'll see you tomorrow."
. . .
He kept cornering you after that. At every chance he got. He would back you up against a wall with just one hand cupping the side of your face. Sometimes he'd explain something related to the training like that; other times he would ask questions ("What time did you wake up, little one, hm? You were late." Or "Where is your mind, my padawan? You're making so many silly mistakes.").
But other times (and these times had you terrified), he would back you up against the wall and just stare.
He'd keep your face cupped, and he would stare deep into your eyes and then drag his eyes all over your body, assessing everything. He'd keep that hand against your cheek, and if you tried to speak, he'd shake his head once. You did not know why he did this. All you knew was that it terrified you and left you shaking for the rest of the day.
After one particularly hard training session when you made too many mistakes, he shook his head. "Little one, I swear..." He sighed and stepped closer. You instantly inched towards the door. You did not want to get cornered again.
The side of his lips twisted up in a smirk. "Running, are we?"
Your hand grabbed the knob. "I-I will see you a-at lunch, master."
The smirk did not disappear. "Is my little Padawan going to run away from me, hm? I don't think I have done anything that warrants this treatment. You make me feel like a monster."
"N-no, I don't mean it that w-"
"I will meet you for dinner," he said. "I'll come to your room to pick you up. Be good, hm?"
You ran out of the training room.
. . .
Anakin could not take it anymore. Just being near you wasn't enough. He had to take you. And he would.
So, instead of knocking on your bedroom door, he opened it using Force.
"M-master?" Your little spooked voice made his cock hard.
"Yes, little one," he answered calmly, slamming the door shut. "I'm here to teach you a few things."
Warnings (for this chapter): Stalking, Anakin being a lot more intense than I planned.
Anakin Skywalker was the crown jewel of the Jedi Order, the Chosen one. He was a skilled Jedi knight, someone who was beyond everyone's skill set.
So, naturally, he had everyone confused when he did not take up any padawan even after passing his trials. Padawans approached him and tried to win his favour, but he never took them under his wing. He trained alone. Sometimes he could be seen with Obi-Wan, but even that had diminished because he had too many missions.
So when your master died during a mission, you had to get yourself an equally capable master. Yes, Anakin Skywalker was young, and not as experienced, but he was the best. And you wanted to be trained by the best, even though the difference between your ages was not much.
You gathered your courage and knocked gently on his bedroom door. You tried to keep your breathing under control as nervousness fluttered in your stomach at the thought of him. He was intimidating. And while you had talked to him before, those conversations had been tiny. Now, you had to convince him to have you as a Padawan.
"Come in."
You pushed the door open with your shaking hands and stepped inside. Anakin Skywalker was watching the skyline, a drink cradled in his giant hand, and his body covered in his Jedi robes. He looked over his shoulders, and his eyebrows shot up. "Y/N," he said. "Come on in. Sit." He motioned to a large armchair near him, the only one in the room.
You lowered yourself onto the seat, somehow feeling even smaller sitting there while he was towering over you. He took a sip of his drink and leaned against the window, his form relaxed and face passive. "What can I do for you, Padawan?"
Your hands messed with the edge of your dress. You weren't in your Jedi robes; you didn't like to wear them all the time, unlike most of the padawans and masters. "I..I wanted to ask you something, master Skywalker."
"And what is that?"
You took a deep breath. Here it goes. You pretty much readied yourself for rejection. "Will you be my master?"
His eyebrows shot up again, his scar deepening. "Me?"
"Y-yes. I mean, I know you haven't accepted anyone. But I recently lost mine and I...I thought I would at least ask-"
"Stand up, Padawan." His head tilted.
You froze, but did what you were told.
"Come closer. Let me feel your Force."
You stepped closer. His gloved hand raised, and he cupped your face, his large hand covering almost the entirety of the left side of your face. Your eyes widened at the touch, and just when you were about to take a step back, he shook his head.
"I can feel it better like this. Stay still."
You forced yourself to remain standing, but could not look him in the eye. You focused on his chest, letting him feel your Force. You had never heard of anyone doing it like this, but of course, you didn't know better than Anakin Skywalker.
You should have run.
He kept his hand cupping your face and then spoke up after a few moments. "The Force is strong with you, little one," he muttered. "Yet you tremble. Look at me."
You lifted your eyes off his chest, looking him in his eyes that were slightly...yellow. He smiled, head tilting, a curl brushing on his scar. "I will be your master. How can I deny you when you've just recently lost your older one?" He lowered his hand. "Go. Meet me in my private training room after breakfast. Do not be late." He turned away, sipping his drink as he stared out the window, dismissing you.
You did not need to be told twice. You all but fled out of the room, and you could have sworn you heard him chuckle.
. . .
Anakin Skywalker, like every night, watched you sleep through the cameras. He had eight installed in your room and three in your bathroom. He had multiple nanodroids following you all the time. It was for your safety and his sanity. You were the thread he was holding on to, the only thing keeping him from lifting a lightsaber and bringing it down on everyone. Everyone.
He sat on his armchair, the very chair you had sat on, and he could faintly smell your perfume. Flowery with the right amount of sweetness. He continued watching you sleep from all angles, the images projected on the windows.
He took off his robes, letting them hang on the armrest. He could feel his cock thickening, the dark side of the Force coursing through him, making him feel stronger. More powerful. Sinful. Possessive. Obsessed. He didn't touch his cock. No, he was storing all his cum for your sweet holes. He would feast on them, rip them apart, and then gather you in his arms. You were his, his little padawan. You had walked yourself into his den, not knowing you had always been there.
He watched as you changed sides, your nightgown lifting, showcasing your perfect ass barely covered by the panties you were wearing. He felt his throat go dry. So tempting.
He tortured himself by watching you sleep. He did not need sleep since he had joined the dark side. Now, he only needed you.
The morning came, and he watched as you dressed yourself in your robes. He chuckled as you changed your hairstyle multiple times, and then gave yourself a pep talk to make yourself less scared. He knew you had seen the darkness in him, at least glimpsed it. The prey was always paranoid.
So he had to ease you in. Pet you in the right places, make you trust him, coax you into his bed. Or, he could just take you.
Either way, your fate was written. And in the universe, there was no bigger law than what Anakin Skywalker dictated - what the future Darth Vader dictated.
E.A. Deverell - FREE worksheets (characters, world building, narrator, etc.) and paid courses;
Hiveword - Helps to research any topic to write about (has other resources, too);
BetaBooks - Share your draft with your beta reader (can be more than one), and see where they stopped reading, their comments, etc.;
Charlotte Dillon - Research links;
Writing realistic injuries - The title is pretty self-explanatory: while writing about an injury, take a look at this useful website;
One Stop for Writers - You guys... this website has literally everything we need: a) Description thesaurus collection, b) Character builder, c) Story maps, d) Scene maps & timelines, e) World building surveys, f) Worksheets, f) Tutorials, and much more! Although it has a paid plan ($90/year | $50/6 months | $9/month), you can still get a 2-week FREE trial;
One Stop for Writers Roadmap - It has many tips for you, divided into three different topics: a) How to plan a story, b) How to write a story, c) How to revise a story. The best thing about this? It's FREE!
Story Structure Database - The Story Structure Database is an archive of books and movies, recording all their major plot points;
National Centre for Writing - FREE worksheets and writing courses. Has also paid courses;
Penguin Random House - Has some writing contests and great opportunities;
Crime Reads - Get inspired before writing a crime scene;
The Creative Academy for Writers - "Writers helping writers along every step of the path to publication." It's FREE and has ZOOM writing rooms;
Reedsy - "A trusted place to learn how to successfully publish your book" It has many tips, and tools (generators), contests, prompts lists, etc. FREE;
QueryTracker - Find agents for your books (personally, I've never used this before, but I thought I should feature it here);
Pacemaker - Track your goals (example: Write 50K words - then, everytime you write, you track the number of the words, and it will make a graphic for you with your progress). It's FREE but has a paid plan;
Save the Cat! - The blog of the most known storytelling method. You can find posts, sheets, a software (student discount - 70%), and other things;
missionary but you keep apologizing for being loud so he tells you to “stop fucking apologizing” and tilts your head so your mouth is lined up with his ear and just fucks you harder
★ thinking about nanami who, contrary to popular belief, is completely oblivious to just how big his dick is.
because this is a man who rarely ever watches porn due to him finding the performances highly overdramatized, so he hasn’t really had the chance to compare his size to other men. and while he’s by no means a virgin, he’s always assumed that the women who have told him he’s ‘big’ were just aiming to flatter him — his mother raised him to be humble, after all.
but it’s not until he gets you (the sweet girl he’s been seeing for the past few months) into his bed that it dawns on him that he might be a little… larger than average, to say the least.
“k-kento— ‘s not gonna fit,” you whine pitifully beneath him, fat tears beading along your lower lashes as you squirm against the mattress. “‘m sorry but... i-i don’t think i can take it all.”
and nanami can do nothing but gape at how giant his cock suddenly seems in comparison to your little fluttering hole, his angry reddened tip trying (and failing) to slowly push past the first ring of resistance inside your spongy walls.
“o-oh, sweetheart,” he rasps out, adam’s apple bobbing harshly as he swallows down the thick lump that seems to have arisen in his throat. “i’m sure we can make it fit, no? just… just try ‘n relax a little more for me.”
“i’ve been trying to relax this whole time,” you hiccup, trembling hands pawing at his bulky arms positioned either side of your head as he peers down at you sympathetically. “you’re just too b-big, ken.”
he exhales deeply, leaning down to press a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth as a form of apology for what he’s about to do— before swiftly using all of the strength in his lower body to thrust every inch of him inside in one go.
and you’re squealing, nails no doubt leaving crescent-shaped indents in the skin of his muscular biceps as you thrash against the sheets, desperately trying to adjust to the feeling of being so completely and utterly full, your poor cunt practically being split in two to accommodate the sheer size of him.
“christ— ah, there we go,” he grunts, sweaty strands of blonde hair falling over his forehead as he forces himself to stay completely still above you, allowing you ample time to get as comfortable as possible. “see, darling? i told you we’d make it fit.”
but nanami can’t bear the idea of you struggling this much every time the two of you are intimate, so he comes to the conclusion that he’ll just have to make sure that by the end of the night, your insides are moulded to the exact shape of his cock.
that way it won’t be such a difficult fit next time, right?
when it doesn’t fit the first time, when you’re tapping out and pushing him away from you by his chest and hissing in pain before he can even get halfway inside you, toji is secretly elated. he plays the part of the concerned boyfriend, immediately pulling out and apologizing profusely, but the thought alone of his cock outsizing your poor pussy, by both length and width, is hotter than ever porn he’s ever watched.
though toji doesn’t consider himself a patient man, he’ll be patient in this respect. he’ll come to your door with a package full of variously sized dildos he ordered himself, smiling as he explains how you’ll simply work your way up. work your way up to him.
and though it doesn’t quite compare to actually having his dick inside you, it’s still unbearably hot to have you on all fours as he works in a new dildo inside you every night, each bigger than the last. one hand grips the base of the silicone to fuck you with, the other hand jerking himself off in time with the synthetic thrusts. of course even his “artificial” technique is worthy of the gods, and has you falling apart and moaning his name pathetically much faster than you’d like to admit.
until finally, finally the day comes, after the consistent hard work and patience the both of you have exercised, when it’s finally his cock that’s positioned at the entrance of your pussy. just that action alone has toji dripping pre - when did he ever get so whipped for your pussy?
it’s still a bit of a struggle, and he has to slowly ease himself in, but even at just the first taste of your tight, wet heat around his desperate cock is fucking heaven, and this time the issue isn’t that his cock can’t even fit to the base - he came before he could even get that far. fuck.
Your boyfriend loved playing with your pussy. And, no, not in a sexual way.
You were cuddling, your back resting against his chest while his tired eyes were fixed on the TV after a long day. Your legs were spread and his big hands were subconsciously roaming lazily over your relaxed body, down, down until he reached the waistband of your pretty panties. You glanced down at his hand when he slid it under your underwear, meeting your soft pussy lips.
You looked up at him when he started rubbing and pinching your folds only to see your almost sleepy boyfriend staring at the TV, very drawn into the show. He didn't even look at you, not even a slight flinch. Because, well, he was too damn relaxed, watching TV while playing with your pussy because he loved how soft and puffy it was.
You whimpered lowly, turning your attention back to the TV while he kept molding your pretty pussy.
A few minutes later, you started squirming when he accidentally rubbed your little bud, making you leak.
And, without noticing, he slid his thick fingers down to your sappy cunt, rubbing small circles over it before moving them back to your clit, making it throb.
You bit your lip, lifting your hips against his hand, meanwhile he chuckled softly at the forgotten TV show in the background.
He kept playing with your clit and cunt until you were all soaked, holding back your moans when your clit started throbbing deliciously against his fingers while you orgasmed.
Finally, he looked down at you, noticing his very flushed and lustful little girlfriend. Then, his eyes moved down to his hand, sliding it out of your panties. His fingers were sticky, soaked with your arousal.
older boyfriend! toji who knows you did shit in an exam, and he’s comforting you as you cry on his shoulder, his cock snug in your pussy, loving the way your little teary hiccups are punctuated by breathy whines and moans as he rolls his hips just a little bit to ease himself. he knows he needs to be a good boyfriend, hearing you out and let you get it out of your system, but he honestly thinks that pounding you into the mattress would be a more better and viable solution.
but with the way your pretty, glossy lips are trembling and pouting, toji puts those thoughts in the back-burner. for now. because he knows his needy lil’ baby will meet his movements with shy ones of her own, and that will be enough confirmation for him to flip you on your stomach and fuck you into oblivion (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
