geto doesn’t think his sweet girlfriend is hiding anything from him. of course he doesn’t.
sure, you always keep your phone close—tucked into your hoodie pocket, never more than an arm’s length away whenever he was around—but he never thought much of it.
after all, he knew your phones password, and you knew his. if you were hiding anything, why would you have given it to him in the first place?
that’s why one quiet afternoon, he goes through your phone for the first time and doesn’t see it as a big deal at all (and well, you’ve done it to him before so it was only about time).
his long legs are stretched out on your bed, bored, while you sit cozy, curled up near the headboard, nose buried in a book. your phone sits a few feet away on your desk. he briefly thinks it’s almost strange seeing it there instead of nestled out of sight in your pocket.
eventually, out of idle curiosity, he reaches for it. there’s no real intention, he just wants something to do with his hands.
his thumb moves lazily across the screen, opening one app, then another. he isn’t looking for anything in particular.
it’s the small things that catch his eye; your organization habits that are still apparent, even on your phone and the pieces of you that live in photo folders and music playlists.
after a while, he feels your eyes on him.
when he glances up, you’re staring, book lowered just enough for him to see the way your eyes widen behind your glasses, before you blink it away. you don’t say anything. and because you don’t, a slow grin tugs at the corner of his mouth.
cute.
he thinks your reaction is from the act of eye contact—which was partly true. keeping eye contact with him still left you flustered. but this time, it was more than that.
you were afraid because there were things you were keeping from him. the urge to snatch your phone out of his hands swells in your chest. it’s stupid because doing that would make it blatant you were hiding something.
the truth was, you were terrified he’d see it all and start looking at you differently.
the things you didn’t want him to see? the copious amounts of twitter porn in your bookmarks and the filthy smut you read on tumblr.
and yet…a part of you almost wanted him to find it all. a part of you wanted him to realize just how much of a fucking freak your nerdy and quiet self truly was.
you get just that—the latter.
when he opens twitter, suguru notices a striking difference immediately. the feed is unlike you, as if you barely use the app. he dismisses it and thinks that’s probably the case, getting ready to swipe off the app. but then…he accidentally bookmarks a post.
he scrolls through your bookmarks and that’s all he sees. he doesn’t need to click show to know what’s hiding behind it.
porn.
wow.
he never imagined you were the type to indulge in something as lewd as quick nut twitter porn. after all, just his kisses left you too flustered to function. so porn? he’d never really thought about it…but god, now his head is going down the gutter, imagining you watching these clips.
meanwhile…across from him? you have no way of knowing he’s found it all—but your heart is pounding all the same. you’ve been stuck on the same page in your book forever, waiting for the worse to happen.
little do you know it already is.
as geto views video after video, his eyes are the ones that are widening now. if he hadn’t expecting finding porn on your phone, he hasn’t expected seeing this kind of porn.
you have all the filthiest things saved, every position, every kink—from mean headlocks to dry humping to nasty blowjobs and then, to fucking hentai and downright nasty fanart.
well, well, well. it was always the quiet ones.
he feels his face warm scrolling through clip after clip, not even noticing the way you sink further into the pillows, afraid. he’s been on your phone for too long—what should you do?
what really catches his eye is a video that’s a whole seven minutes. since when the fuck could twitter porn be this long? it’s the only video you’ve liked out of all of your bookmarks. he assumes it’s by accident…or maybe it’s your favorite.
the video is so hot, and so you.
the tip of a man’s cock is pressing into a sweet girls clothed pussy. she’s got downright adorable panties that reminds him of you. god—suguru is twitching in his sweats already.
he teases and teases her, nudging against her clit, back and forth for what feels like an eternity. the man in the video speeds up, the woman matches his pace, canting her hips against his cock.
then he slows completely. suguru hardens in his pants.
poor girl.
he wants to turn the volume up. he wants to recreate this with you immediately—tease you in ways that are worse than in this porn. but alas, he can’t seem to rip his gaze away from the screen.
the angle changes. a generous amount of lube is poured. and god, he keeps on going and going, grinding his cock against adorable soiled panties. he speeds up again, then slows like a fucking menace. his cock nudges at her entrance, so close yet so far. then again, as deep as he can through the fabric.
finally—he reaches to slide her panties to the side. but it’s not for the reason suguru is hoping for. the man continues grinding against her clit only without the fabric between them. he only keeps going and going, relentless. suguru can’t fucking wait any longer…but he does. he’s glued to the screen as if it’s you and him.
he’s thrusting, rubbing, rubbing, going for ages, until oops! slipping right into her pussy.
that’s when the volume of your phone blasts up and you hear slick sounds. you recognize it immediately, gaze snapping up to your boyfriend for the first time in a while.
what the fuck? since when was his hold on your phone tight enough for him to accidentally turn the volume up?!
he’s red in the face. you’ve never seen him anywhere near it. you know you’d be gushing over how cute the flush looked on him if you weren’t absolutely mortified.
his eyes flash when his eyes meet yours and he pounces—leaning across the bed with his wide frame to crash his lips onto yours.
then you feel it against your thigh, thick and hot.
suguru pulls away, breathless, cheeks still tinged red, porn still playing in the background because he didn’t care enough to turn off your phone.
“so…wanna recreate your favorite porno?”
you gulp.
inspired by this fic by @bluukive hehe (not proofread yet..)
also, the twitter porn clip i was describing is this…😛 hope it kinda makes up for edging u guys :(
pornstar!nanami who started out on a whim; one of his friends suggested he do a few shoots because it had 'pretty good pay.' A few shoots came and went, and he just never stopped, garnering a good-sized fanbase who went crazy for his cock.
pornstar!nanami was a tall man with an athletic build & was so good with his dick that even his fellow stars had started harboring crushes on him. He was just that good at making them cum.
pornstar!nanami was well-endowed and stayed hyper aware of it when working with any of the actresses. Careful not to push them too far when it was scripted for him to fuck them mid-air or fold them in half.
pornstar!nanami would end each and every shoot with claw marks on his back and a quiet calmness when he'd go home. To be alone.
pornstar!nanami was always vigilant to all of his friends & coworkers that he wanted to stay single—he never wanted a woman to have to see him fuck someone like an animal when they were supposed to love each other.
pornstar!nanami was lonely, yes. But he would never want to hurt someone like that, so for years as his career grew, he stayed single, rarely ever even hooking up with someone.
pornstar!nanami went to pornstar!suguru's Halloween party, after almost two weeks of Suguru and Satoru trying to convince him that it'd be a small, fun party of getting drunk, watching movies & just taking a night to themselves.
pornstar!nanami froze in the kitchen when his eye caught you, laughing quietly in the corner with Suguru's wife, drink in hand. He felt the world slow. You were ethereal to him.
pornstar!nanami walked up to you the moment he saw you alone and started talking to you. And you were something he just felt magnetized to. The glimmer in your eye, the way you laughed at his shitty jokes, the way he knew you knew what he did for a living, and didn't bombard him with shitty questions.
pornstar!nanami who'd gotten your number looong before the night had the chance to end, asked you out for a date at a coffee shop a few nights after the party—surprising himself greatly—and got even more surprised when you offered something private, at your place.
pornstar!nanami thought you were so considerate when you texted him "I've been friends with Suguru for years, & all it takes is one person to recognize him from his films. I'm sure you wouldn't want that on a date."
pornstar!nanami came over to your house for dinner & wine, and the two of you shared good conversation... He seemed just so sweet & kind that you ended up kissing him.
pornstar!nanami felt like a teenager with no self-control again, when he propped you up on the kitchen counter, planting searing kisses on your throat as you unbuttoned his shirt, tugging him as close as you could.
pornstar!nanami buried himself so deep in you, he forgot how to breathe for a second when you pulled him close to whine into his chest, setting up a slow & steady pace before lifting you off the counter and taking you towards your bedroom.
pornstar!nanami laid back & let you ride him as white-hot pleasure ripped through the two of you with each rise of your hips, soon holding you steady so he could fuck up into you when your thighs started shaking.
pornstar!nanami tensed up, careful not to drop you as the frothy mess slowly dripped down his shaft onto his balls, and caught his breath while slowly sinking you back down him for the last time. rubbing tender circles where his hands had just gripped.
pornstar!nanami guided you down to lie on his chest while whispering how good you were & making sure you were still ok before pressing a few soft kisses to your forehead as you cuddled against him.
pornstar!nanami called pornstar!suguru in the middle of the night to thank him for helping him meet the woman he was sure would one day be his wife, arms holding your sleeping figure closer to his chest.
"Don't disobey me, kitten whiskers," Satoru growls down at you, giant hands caressing your trembling, atom sized, petite frame.
"Get on your knees like a good little cotton ball," he commands with his booming, authoritative voice.
You get on your knees, your back facing him as you hold yourself up on the bed, your fat voluptuous ass jiggling with every movement.
"Good girl," his large hands come down to yourdump truck, massaging and kneading the flesh between his thick, long, veiny fingers.
"Such a good little used q-tip," he moans, lining up his 13 inch schlong with your aching hole, dripping with wetness.
"Ready to be impaled by my giant pork sword?" His warm breath fans your neck as he brings a leg up by your head. He maneuvers your legs to bend backwards and around to rest by your head as well, your back twisting and arms snaking round his neck in a very comfortable and manageable position.
He roughly sinks his pussy-destroyer-1200 with four thousand horsepower, shooting the both of you through the wall and into the living room from the power of his 13 inch piping bag.
The sheer force of his cream filled log shaped doughnut alters the orbit of the earth, sending humanity into an ice age.
"SATORU," you moan out in the most angelic voice, your small, petite, microscopic, fragile, 3'2, curvaceous, voluptuous, flawless, figure shaking beneath your 10'11, muscular, white haired, big dick, thick necked boyfriend, Satoru Gojo.
His hips move at a pace faster than the speed of light, his oversized willy absolutely destroying your pussy, but you didnt break, no. Because your frail form could handle your boyfriends mating style.
"Okay my cute little dingle berry," Satoru growls low in his chest, sweat dripping sexily down his sculpted chest, "ready for my breeding juice?"
"YES MASTER SATORU," You scream (in an angelic tone).
"Such a sweet little Costco rotisserie chicken!" satoru cries.
"RAHAHAHAHAHHHHAAAAAAHHHHH," Satoru's sding-a-long erupts like a volcano all over you and you both moan and fall asleep.
The end
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ ⁺ . ✦
A/n: tried to tone down the freakiness a lil bit with this one, so it's more mellow and calm that my usual works 🙂 hope you like it
your best friend geto looks like he's been accosted. eyes wide, jaw slack, face all but screwed up in surprise at the words that have just come out of your mouth. what was it you said you were reading about? triple penetration? he might pass out.
you can't help but laugh at the look he's giving you. "what? you didn't watch porn when you were still a virgin?"
without warning, he snatches your phone right out of your hand and squints at the screen. "my porn was tasteful," he tsks. "this is... uncouth."
"uncouth?" you try to take back your phone, just for him to roll over in bed and hold it out of reach. you're half on top of him in seconds, clawing at his bulky arm. "give it back!"
"what is dac..." he stifles a laugh at the way you try so desperately for your archive of erotica. "...dacryphilia?"
"you don't know? what, no game? no hoes? bitches?"
"i manage, thank you," he rolls the both of you over and pins you down against the mattress, which has your breath hitching in your throat for some reason. it makes him smirk like a fucking idiot. "what, nervous?"
no... yes? you don't know. suguru has never made you feel nervous... jittery, maybe. you'd use nauseous, in both the good and bad way. sometimes he gives you this look that makes you feel like you have food poisoning. your body seems to react to him at the extreme.
you've always been touchy with each other. your friendship has been physical since day one—if you aren't touching, you're not in the same room. it's just how it's always been, a hand on his arm as you walk together, or his arm around your shoulders when you're seated. it's... normal. familiar.
so this—suguru pinning you down by the wrists, his long black hair falling down to tunnel your vision right onto that pretty face of his—probably shouldn't get you this wet.
or wet at all, really.
"tears," you say, for some fucking reason. "dacryphilia, it's crying, or making someone cry. like being overstimulated, or... humiliated, to the point of tears. or just crying for the sake of it."
geto looks down at you, and you try not to watch the muscles of his arms bulge as he keeps you locked beneath him. "i know."
you frown. "you know?"
"i just wanted to hear you try and explain it," he laughs. "fucking pervert."
"i'm going to kill you slowly," you wriggle beneath him. "get off me, suguru."
"or what? you'll cry? i think you're into that..." he teases, and manages to shift both of your wrists into one hand so that he can reach for your phone again. he thumbs it open and resumes your 'history' tab with a shit-eating grin. "virginity loss... best friends to lovers... size kink... corruption... breeding? really?"
"shut the fuck up," you hiss. you buck your hips up, not to throw him off—because you can admit he's bigger, heavier and a whole lot stronger than you are—but out of pure frustration. except your movement only presses you tighter against where his thighs cage your hips, and you freeze. you think something pathetic leaves your lips, but you can't quite hear yourself over the mortification bubbling up in your chest.
"oh?" he notices, of course.you want to claw his stupid handsome face off. "don't tell me this is working for you."
"it's not," you snap. "you are so fucking full of yourself, geto."
"suguru," he corrects you. "say it properly. and by the look on your face right now i'd wager that you'd rather be the one full of me."
god you hate him sometimes. "embarrassing me isn't funny."
"it's a little funny."
"fuck you."
"you look like you'd love to," he lowers his hips a little, and for the first time in your life, you feel the weight of a rock-hard cock pressing against you. "tell me to stop and i will. we can go get food or something, forget this happened."
the switch in tone from teasing to gentle makes you smile, which makes keeping up the disgruntled act a lot harder. the thought of verbalising your need right now makes you nauseous, so you opt instead for a shake of your head.
"great," he nods, and slowly releases your wrists. "you can take that back whenever you want, just tell me and i'll back off."
"what are you..." you're cut off when suguru hands you your phone back with a scrunched up nose.
"read it," he says. "out loud. if you stop, i stop."
you're confused only until you check your screen and see that geto has opened up one of your most recently read pieces and scrolled down to a rather graphic scene of the main character being eaten out by her best friend. it's a little ironic, considering the state you're in, but you can't bring yourself to be embarrassed when your own best friend is kissing down your stomach and hooking his fingers under the waistband of your shorts.
he's going to go down on you? but he's hard, and for as much porn as you've read, most of it depicts the guy taking what he wants.
"aren't you going to... you know? fuck me?"
your shorts and panties are pulled down in one swift movement, and suguru buries his face in your thigh to stifle his laugh. his body shakes with the force of it, which makes you frown. your pussy is a few inches from his face, and he's laughing like the prospect of taking your virginity is funny.
"you couldn't take me," he smiles up at you. "now read."
suddenly self-conscious, you try clamp your thighs shut, just to (once again) find yourself pinned down by his strong arms. "this is weird," you whine. "you're my... i mean we... you know? friends. best friends."
holding eye contact, suguru slowly lowers himself down to press a chaste kiss to your clit. it's not much contact, but it makes you jolt nonetheless. doesn't feel like how you had imagined it when you'd lay in bed late at night with your nose in a book and your hand between your legs. this is... better. feels right.
"still weird?" he asks, to which you nod without really meaning it. "weird like your porn on that phone?"
"suguru i swear to god if you don't—oh my god."
you forgive that man for all of the teasing he'd one as soon as he gets to work on you. flattening out his tongue against your pussy and tasting you for the first time has him already grinding against the mattress, and has you squeezing your eyes shut as you try to process this new realm of pleasure. you're glad he doesn't tease you for being so wet, but that he instead uses it to his advantage and starts making an even bigger mess of you.
his lips latch around your clit for only a few seconds. he hollows out your cheeks and you think you might die with how overwhelming the sensation is, but it's over all too soon. geto pulls back to do two things:
one, tie his hair out of his face, and two, tell you to start reading.
not wanting to miss out on these newfound pleasures of the flesh, you unlock your phone and start on a random spot on the screen, your voice a lot more shaky than you want it to be.
"he, uh... he ducks down and licks a stripe from entrance to clit, collecting... collecting her wetness on his tongue and falling in love with the taste of her enjoyments."
suguru, suddenly good at following instructions, does as written and leads his tongue upwards. you moan at the contact, but notice suguru starting to pull away at your lack of reading, so you go on.
"she loves the way he feels. he kisses her, uh, sweet center, before continuing to use his tongue to toy with her."
you can feel suguru smiling against you. "sweet center?" he laughs, but continues his ministries nonetheless. you roll your eyes, this has been a lot better of a read when your brain was fogged with unsated need. longing for the man that is now between your legs.
"growing messy, his focus shifts to her clit. his tongue dances with the bud of nerves as he brings two fingers of his left hand, ring and all, and pushes them inside of her. curling upwards until she—"
"is that what you want?" suguru cuts you off.
"yeah, yes. i think. just go slow."
"keep reading."
you clear your throat as suguru starts tracing circles around your clit with the tip of his tongue. he looks a little silly doing that, you note as you glance down to enjoy the view for a moment, but god does it feel good.
"curling upwards until she's an ecstatic mess of fulfilled wants. he completes her, in both soul and now flesh. fills her with his fingers in preparation for his—oh god, suguru, right there."
you hadn't even noticed him pushing into you, you were that eager to feel more of him. his fingers curl up as described in your reading material and suddenly he's brushing over a spot you've never discovered on your own. it blurs your vision, sends your skin hot.
"can't.. can't read anymore," you whine, bucking your hips up in some masochistic need for more. anything bigger than this and you'd keel over, you think, but you'd take anything suguru was willing to give you. "gonna—"
he allows it. encourages it, even. quickens his pace on the fingers plunging in and out of you, and starts making out with your pussy like a drunken virgin would. it's good in a way that shouldn't be: messy and needy and you think perhaps that suguru is just as close to coming as you are.
your orgasm is intense. your back arching off the bed and your body trying hopelessly to get more of sugurus touch. you think you moan his name, though it could be a babbled string of 'i love you's that you'll refuse to acknowledge later on in hopes that giving you head wasn't enough to ruin your friendship.
suguru moans loudly against your pussy as he tastes your release, the vibrations no help for your sensitivity, but his hips are stuttering against the mattress and you can tell even through your haze that you've made the cocky idiot cum in his pants.
serves him right.
and because the two of you are friends before you are... whatever this is, the both of you are falling into a fit of laughter upon your comedowns. suguru's lips glisten and your chest heaves with each breath you take, and he's climbing up the bed to press a kiss to your cheek.
"better than reading about it?" he asks.
"nope," you grin, which earns you a mean look that soon gives way to another laugh from him. "you could do it again some time if you wanted, though."
"please. i want to find out what skills you've picked up reading all of that weird shit." he pulls you into his arms and, despite being a little sweaty, you find yourself melting comfortably into his embrace.
you didn’t know the exact intention behind you saying that. maybe you just wanted to rile mattheo up, maybe you thought his ego had been getting awfully huge lately and decided to bring it down a notch. in any case, you couldn’t complain now, spread out on the couch in his dressing room as his fingers pumped in and out of your dripping cunt.
"f-fuck, matty, s-so–"
you were cut off as his digits curled inside of you, pressing into your clenching walls, into that exact spot. although, to be fair, with mattheo every single spot was that spot – he was so damn good with his… everything, including his fucking fingers. his fucking drummer fingers, skilled to throw drumsticks around like it was nothing, and also skilled to make you a complete moaning and whimpering mess.
"so what, pretty girl?" he drawled, looking down at your flushed, sweaty face with quite a devilish smirk. he was sitting on the couch next to you, legs spread in a casual manner, betrayed only by the tent at the front of his sweatpants, where his rock-solid cock was throbbing with arousal. his demeanor was as nonchalant as ever, though – a cigarette dangling in his left hand as his right one fucked you into a frenzy.
"you were saying?" mattheo teasingly prompted, his movements slowing down a bit as he watched you trying to babble something incoherent. he took a drag of his cigarette, the smoke wafting from his mouth in your direction, very much on purpose. the bitter scent hit your nostrils, but in your current state, it didn’t seem as acrid as it usually did. and mattheo knew, watching with amusement as your lips parted, inhaling the bits of smoke that reached you.
"s-so good…" you somehow managed to whimper out, thighs clenching together as the pace of his fingers picked up again. it was impressive, really, how he still had this much strength in his arm even after a two-hour show. sweat glistened on his biceps and bare chest, nearly making you drool as you took in the sight of his slumped over form with your eyes half-closed.
"yeah? s-so good?" he parroted your mess of a sentence, raising an eyebrow, pretending to be surprised. "i don’t know, baby, i don’t believe you. didn’t you say, quote unquote, ‘you don’t know what to do with those fingers’?"
"’m sorry…" you mumbled, a high-pitched moan escaping as he scissored you open, pressing on multiple sweet spots at the same time. you couldn’t string words together anymore, and mattheo still smoked with a smirk on his face, as if he wasn’t cancelling all your brain functions using just the power of his hand.
"oh, you are, baby," he murmured as his fingers plunged even deeper, the sloppy sounds of your pussy making his cock throb harder. "i know you are. and you’re gonna prove it, yeah?”
you managed half a nod, your hands gripping the couch, making the old leather squeak under their grip.
"go on then. cum all over my fingers, pretty girl."
mattheo took another drag from the cigarette, the grey cloud swirling in waves around his smug face. his eyes darkened as he watched you lose yourself, the orgasm crashing over you in waves. as your legs trembled, nearly crumpling on the couch and mattheo’s lap, he pulled his fingers out, completely coated in your slickness. he licked it all off, moaning when the taste of you hit his tongue, mixing with the lingering bitterness of tobacco.
"oh, baby, we’re not done." he chuckled, noticing how the heaving of your chest was gradually slowing down, the high slowly clearing out from your mind. his hand moved to the front of his pants, firmly palming his straining cock. "i’m not too sure you’re sorry yet.”
omg hii i legit love your works so much and rn you’re basically my fav writer atm😆😼😼 if you don’t mind i would like to request a seongje fic where reader and seongje is not on very good terms/enemies and then one day they were bickering about each other, and then reader thought it would be funny to insult his skill in bed/his dick lol, and then basically seongje decided to prove her wrong and just fuck the attitude out of her and reader is just crying and whimpering because she’s overstimulated like crazy. I hope you could fulfill my request xixi, just can’t get enough of your workss i could kept reading them forever lol, again thank you so much if you could do it😻😻
The way he strutted around campus like he owned it, that cocky smirk, his stupid designer fits and unbothered swagger. He was everyone’s favorite, and he knew it. Popular, hot, and dangerously good at playing nice—until his venom slipped through his teeth in private.
Especially with you.
"Could you be any more annoying?" he drawled, sliding into the seat beside you in the library, uninvited as always.
You didn’t look up from your laptop. "Could you be any more irrelevant?"
He laughed under his breath. "You wish I was irrelevant, sweetheart. Maybe then you could stop thinking about me."
You gave him a slow once-over, eyes lingering on his lazy posture and shameless confidence. "Thinking about you? Please. Even if I was gagging for it, I'd never settle for someone who probably doesn't even know how to use his dick right."
Silence.
His grin vanished.
You blinked. "What? Not gonna talk back now?"
Seongje leaned in. Voice low. Dangerous. "You think I don’t know how to use my dick?"
Your heartbeat skipped.
You forced a scoff. "I mean, if the ego's that big, the compensation must be small, right? Makes sense." (LMAO i love myself)
A flicker of something dark flashed in his gaze. He leaned even closer, lips nearly brushing your ear.
"That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble, Y/N." 😰
You should’ve shut up.
Because now you were bent over your bed, arms pinned behind your back, and Seongje was pounding into you like a man possessed.
"Still think my dick's small?" he growled against your neck, hips slamming into your soaked cunt with bruising rhythm.
You choked on a whimper. "F-fuck—!"
He pulled your head back by your hair, forcing your spine to arch even deeper. "Say it again. Come on, be a smartass."
Your legs trembled violently. Tears blurred your vision. You’d already come twice, and he wasn’t stopping. Not even slowing down.
"I-I’m sorry," you gasped, voice cracking.
"Not what I asked."
His hand slipped between your legs, fingers rubbing harsh circles against your clit.
"F-fuck, Seongje—I can’t—I can’t, please—!"
"You can. You will. You wanted to talk shit, now take it."
Another orgasm ripped through you, white-hot and overwhelming. You sobbed, walls clenching around him as he fucked you through it.
And he didn’t stop.
"Look at you," he sneered, voice tight, breathless. "Crying already? What happened to that attitude, huh?"
You tried to twist away, but he grabbed your throat and fucked deeper, harder, forcing every inch into you.
"You wanted to make jokes about my dick. Now take it. Take all of it."
The overstimulation had you a mess—lips parted, tears rolling, drool slipping down your chin as you whimpered through wave after wave of release.
"Gonna fill you up until you're too dumb to talk back," he spat. "Until that mouth only knows how to beg."
You didn’t recognize your own voice when you cried out again, mind shattering.
He groaned against your shoulder, hips stuttering. "Fuck—look at you, ruined. Say I was right. Say you were wrong."
"Y-you were right," you gasped. "Fuck, Seongje, please—you were right—I'm sorry—"
He bit your shoulder, growling. "Too late for sorry."
You woke up hours later in tangled sheets, sore and marked, his arms around you like he hadn't just wrecked you within an inch of your sanity.
His voice was softer now, half-asleep against your neck.
sorta timid reader x sadistic josh who gets off on the thought of scaring you shitless. josh thinks you're adorable, but seeing you scared and vulnerable did something to him that he couldn't quite put into words. one day, he asked if you'd play into his little kink, and though you laughed nervously, unsure if he was being serious, josh had a way of making you want to say yes even if you didn't entirely know what you were getting yourself into. on your trip back to the blackwood mountain lodge before a party, he goes all out, savoring the chance to see you at your most vulnerable. you don't get why it excited him so much, but with josh, you'd quickly start to understand.
warnings: lowercase intended, the reader has female anatomy, nsfw, slightly naive reader, physical aggression, dubcon, fear play, manipulative josh, he's a bit creepy, power imbalance, psychological games, cunnilingus, hella clit stimulation, a bit disturbing, please don't read if any of this is triggering! (slightly proofread, so i'm apologizing in advance for any mistakes <3)
josh had asked you to arrive at the lodge before anyone else. you didn't think much of it at first; it wasn't unusual for him to want some one-on-one time before the party began. he loved having you to himself, away from the noise and drama of your friends. still, there was something about the way he'd asked — too eager, almost like he had something planned. but it was josh, after all, and he adored you! there was nothing to worry about.
the evening had settled in with a cold chill, the sky darkening as you made your way down the snow-covered path toward the huge lodge. as you got closer, you noticed that something was off. josh wasn't standing there, waiting to greet you like he usually did. it was weird. no lights flickered from the windows, no sound but the cold night wind and your shoes shuffling in the snow. you hesitated walking up the wooden stairs for a moment, unease settling in your chest, but you brushed it off — josh was probably just inside waiting for you.
the door was unlocked, which was odd. he had always locked it to keep strangers out, especially when the lodge was empty. as you pushed the door open, the silence of the mansion swallowed you whole, darkness enveloping you completely as you closed yourself in. something felt wrong. usually, there'd be a candle lit or a light left on for you. josh had always knew how much you hated the dark. your unease deepened, but it wasn't until you stepped further inside the quiet lodge, that a realization began to suddenly click for you.
josh was setting you up for something. the strange eagerness in his voice earlier, the silence, the way everything was just too perfectly unsettling — it was all intentional. your pulse quickened at the very predicament you found yourself in, anxiety sitting in the pit of your stomach. whatever he had planned, you were walking right into it.
you grabbed your phone in your jacket pocket, fingers slightly shaking as you sent josh a quick text.
you: "hey, where are you? everything okay..?"
the message sat there unanswered, the silence only fueling your anxiety. your heart raced, deciding to call him, but the phone only rang with no answer still.
you knew josh wanted you to play further into his game, not just stand there. with a shaky sigh, you slowly made your way through the living room, your footsteps creaking and echoing through the silent house. first you checked the dining room, and then the kitchen, before you made your way to the grand staircase that lead to the second floor.
"josh..?" you called out, your voice small and shaky as you take one step up the stairs, freezing completely in your tracks when you hear a faint creak come from somewhere above you.
you were so caught up in your own anxiety and spiraling thoughts that it took a moment for you to notice the figure standing motionless at the top of the stairs.
"josh..? is that you?" you question directly to the figure, hesitantly taking another step up the stairs.
the figure didn't say a word or move. instead they only tilted their head, the motion slow and deliberate as the moonlight reveals a scary and deranged looking mask on the perpetrator.
your stomach twisted, fear washing over your face as you stepped back down the stairs. there was a hint of reassurance from keeping you from bolting back out the door. you knew it was josh — of course it was josh — but there was something unsettlingly convincing about how he stood there, his breathing heavy and his stance deliberate. the reasonable part of your brain that knew it was a game tried to reassure you, but your instincts screamed otherwise.
the sound of his heavy boots slowly making their way down the wooden stairs echoed in your ears, each step worsening your terror despite your awareness. you turned, bolting straight toward the front door, your heart hammering in your chest.
behind you, the footsteps quickened, starting to match the same urgency as your own. you fumbled for the handle, your hands trembling as panic clouded your movements. just as your fingers brushed the cold metal handle, strong hands grabbed your arm, yanking you back and pushing you against the nearest wall, hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs.
"j-josh! ...stop it!" you cried out, but there was a crack in your voice that betrayed more than just fear. you hated the way your body responded to his closeness in this situation, the way he pinned you against the wall, his movements so calculated and firm that it sent a rush of heat to your face. you didn't want to feel this way, especially in a moment like this, but your actions spoke for themselves.
josh didn't release you right away, reluctantly loosening his grip on your arms. he suddenly let go, letting out an amused laugh. "gotcha," he drawled, his voice way too calm for the situation that happened.
"josh," you breathed, a hint of frustration and lingering fear still in your voice as you watched him pull the mask off. his smirking face made your stomach flip. that self-confident, knowing expression.... you absolutely hated it. but you hated how it made you feel even more.
though you were relieved to see josh's face, and not that stupid creepy mask, anger quickly followed, mixing with embarrassment. gritting your teeth, you shoved josh hard against his chest, your hands still trembling as adrenaline rushed through you.
"a warning would've been nice," you start to angrily scold him, your voice still shaky with residual fear that josh couldn't even take you serious. he thought you were adorable like this.
"oh, come on, babe!" he insisted with a laugh. "you should've seen the look on your face. it was priceless."
"yeah..! because you scared the shit out of me," you exasperated, shoving him in the chest again.
"wasn't that the point, sweetheart?"
you furrow your brows, watching the way josh smirks down at you, his confidence only fueling the questionable attraction you were feeling in such a fucked up situation — maybe it was something about the way he was looking at you, maybe it was the way he was carrying himself; like he just simply knew he had more power over you in that moment.
"you're such a jerk," you muttered, averting your gaze from his amused one.
"maybe," josh shrugs, tilting his head with that same charming smile on his face. "but i bet you liked it, didn't you?"
you glared up at him, showing your frustration even as your face burned in embarrassment. his confidence was infuriating to you, but the worst part was how right he actually was.
"admit it," he urged, leaning closer to you, running his thumb over your bottom lip. "a part of you enjoyed what just happened."
before you could protest, josh leaned in to press a sloppy kiss against your lips. he grabs your wrists in his hands, pinning them above your head against the wall, wasting no time in sliding his tongue into your mouth. josh took note of the way you reciprocated the kiss, your tongue clashing against his own and he cant help the smile that spread on his face.
josh's lips moved against yours with confidence, and as the kiss deepened, his hips subtly rolled forward, pressing into yours, a low and satisfied groan rumbling in his throat. the hard bulge in his pants didn't go unnoticed by you — it was impossible to ignore. he wasn't just showing you how much he wanted you, he was savoring every second of it; purposely pressing his body against yours to show how much you were affecting him.
the kiss was everything all at once: messy, overwhelming — just entirely too much. you whimpered into his mouth, body arching into his as if begging for more. you hated how easily your body responded to him... but you wanted so much more.
he pulled back, just enough to let his lips softly brush against your lips. "see? told you a part of you liked it," he teased, his voice low.
"josh..." you breathed out his name in warning, chest heaving from the messy kiss you two previously shared. he ignored your breathy warning, his lips trailing down your jawline and neck, giving light and teasing kisses that made you bite your lip in anticipation.
"relax," he dismissively murmured at your tone of voice, his hands loosening their grip on your wrists, and sliding down to grab at your hips. "let me make it up to you... for scaring you so bad."
before you could say anything, josh got on his knees in front of you in one swift motion, his hands gliding from your hips down to grip your thighs as he looked up at you, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "just relax, and let me take care of you."
you weakly nodded at josh's words, your body pressing back against the wall for support as his fingers toyed with the button of your jeans.
josh wasted no time in getting started. his fingers eagerly unbuttoning your pants and pulling them down your legs enough to reveal your underwear before he's leaning forward, pressing his nose right against your clothed pussy and taking a deep, perverted sniff.
you gasped softly at the way his nose bumped against your clit, a soft whimper of his name escaping your lips that made him hum approvingly.
"you smell so good," he murmured, a comment that seemed to be more directed to himself. his hands moved to the waistband of your underwear, his fingers hooking into them, before he's peeling them down your legs as well... and to his surprise, your lips were already glistening enough for him to notice in the dim lodge. maybe you weren't being as honest as you let on... josh didn't comment, only hungrily licking his lips at the sight, the only thing on his mind was devouring you.
josh eagerly buried his face between your thighs, groaning as his hands spreads your legs a little wider apart to accommodate his shoulders. his tongue slid right between your puffy folds, instantly flicking the warm muscle against your throbbing clit so good that it had you immediately crying out his name.
"mmh, josh..!" you moaned out, your head falling back against the wall as you pulled on his fluffy hair. josh groaned in response, his eyes closing in satisfaction as he started to circle his tongue around the sensitive bud repeatedly, enjoying every gasp and moan that he elicited from you.
you couldn't help the way your hips instinctively started rutting against his face once he took your clit into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him impossibly closer between your thighs as he enthusiastically sucked on it. josh's hands reached around to grip at your ass, holding you in place as he devoured your pussy. the sounds of your desperate moans and the sloppy noises of his face fucking you filled the room.
you could feel your orgasm building, the pressure building tightly in your stomach as josh continued to suck and lick, relishing your taste as he felt you near your orgasm. "fuck, i.. i'm gonna cum.." you loudly choked out, nails digging into his scalp as a silent warning.
"yeah..?" josh replied knowingly, his voice muffled against your soaking cunt. he starts to double his efforts at your announcement, determined to make you come undone against his mouth. his tongue moved faster, harder, alternating between long, teasing licks and focused flicks over your sensitive nub.
the stimulation was too much for you, it felt so good that seconds later you were crying out, your orgasm hitting you hard as strained whimpers and moans fell from your lips.
your legs violently trembled as you came on josh's tongue, back arching off the wall, your mind clouded with pure bliss. josh moaned approvingly as you convulsed and grinded against his face, his tongue continuing to lap up your cum, but slower this time, dragging out your orgasm until you became overly sensitive.
even as you whined and shook, josh didn't stop, he continued to hold you firmly in place, hands gripping your ass more painfully now as he gently licked your pussy. "josh..!" you breathed, voice shaky, "i cant- too much..!"
finally, he relented, listening to your plea. he lifted his head slightly, his wet lips softly brushing against your inner thigh before he presses a firm kiss there. he studied your exhausted state for a moment, taking you in adoringly, a smile forming on his face as his fingers lazily caressed your skin.
"guess i'll have to scare you more often, if it'll always end like this." he teased, his voice low and playful.
"next time," you murmured, your voice breathless and tired, "tell me first."
josh lets out a soft chuckle, his touch feeling almost too tender for everything that had just happened. "well, where's the fun in that?" he replied, the glint in his eyes making it clear that he was already planning his next move. and for reasons you couldn't explain, you didn't feel like you'd mind at all.
Ok but like softdom spencer reid with a hard dom aaron hotchner with a brat reader. But like they're a princess with reid but an absolute dick to hotch. And hotch is just watching her cuddle reid and kissing on him and just says what did I do to deserve the exact opposite of what you get reid?? And the reader just huffs and bareys their face into reids neck??? 🫠 so cute!!
a red and bruised bottom is enough demonstration for your previous night with aaron, and spencer is all open arms and sweet kisses when you come crawling into them when he returns the following morning. "where were you?" is your first inquiry when you smear wet kisses along his jawline, settling yourself carefully onto his lap while the hem of the other man's t-shirt hangs slips up to reveal such proof.
spencer notices right away, but opts to not say anything, rather, smoothing a thumb over the afflicted flesh and soaking in the affection you're smothering him in. "just crashed at garcia's. we had a bit too much to drink and i'm sure i had a blood alcohol content of-"
"doesn't matter, i'm glad you were safe." aaron hums, sauntering in from the bathroom, towel still drying off the water that clings to his calloused palms. "good to see she's behaving."
spencer smiles, curling a hand around the hair at the back of your neck and scratching there. "why, was she bad?" you shlump, fatigued, into his shoulder, smiling bashfully.
"don't be fooled, spence." he tosses the towel back into the bathroom. "little brat always behaves when she's with you, doesn't she? always a sweet thing, but the second you're gone, she suddenly doesn't remember a single thing about behaving. isn't that right?" his head cocks to the side and your cheeks swarm with heat. you cuddle in closer, eyes crinkling and cheeks dimpling. "no.."
spencer hums, kissing softly at the crown of your skull. "we've got a little liar on our hands now too, huh?" he presses a thumb into a bruise, and you squeal. "i think i see what you mean."
Summary: You’re a princess taken from your home planet and forced to marry Darth Vader. Turns out life on the Death Star isn’t as bad as everyone makes out. Based on the prompt shared with @luminoustarlight !
Content warnings: p in v sex, degradation, sub dynamics, begging, some violence, slow burn smut
WC: 9.3k
You stare out the grand palatial window in the coronation room, passively observing the flames swallowing the city of your home planet Onderon. Unintelligible screams flood the background, soon mercilessly silenced by the thuds and cracks of brusquely operated laser guns.
So this is how you were to meet your end: powerless at the mercy of the imperial army. You’d been trained for such a scenario before and you always carried a vial of poison in the event of capture; you’d rather die than be made to serve the Empire’s twisted interests.
“Princess, you need to take cover, follow my men into the vault below!” Your faithful attendant, Silas called out in panic.
“No, Silas. I will not cower in the basement waiting for them to breach our walls. I will remain here and eagerly await them.”
“But Your Grace-!”
“Enough.” You bark back. “It’s over. You have been discharged from duty, run while you still can. Thank you for all your years of service, I pray that our paths might cross again in another life.” You turn from him, tears flowing down your stiffeningly cold cheeks.
“May the Maker keep and protect you, Princess. You are our only hope.” He replies solemnly, before fleeing through the stony back passage of the palace.
You chuckle mirthlessly at the futility of his words and reach into your bosom where the corset of your gown has a sewn-in compartment. You extract the compact glass ampule of viper venom, so toxic that one drop is enough to send you into an eternal sleep, and fiddle with the intricate bottle for a few moments. With a heavy sigh, you tuck it under your sleeve; you decided you wanted to gaze into the eyes of your captors before you bid farewell to life.
With a resounding crash, the barricaded gate before you falls and the imperial army- donning armour plastered in dust and foreign blood- swarm into the great hall of the palace. You force the knot in your throat down with a gulp and turn on your heel to face the brutes responsible for the massacre of your people.
“Ah Princess, excellent. We thought you’d be grovelling underground with your father but you’ve just made our job a whole lot easier.” A masked figure that you presume is the Commander of the battalion addresses you. “Grab her. But keep her alive, she’s got a special purpose to fulfil.”
Hearing the ominous plans they have in store for you, you rush to reach for the poison in your sleeve but are hindered by the stampede of soldiers hurtling at you, slapping the vial out of your hand and shattering it all over the nitid marble floor.
‘Ah, ah, ah. Don’t even think about it.” The unnaturally deep voice of the commander booms. “You’ve been specially requested at the behest of the Emperor.” Dread consumes you as you’re roughly cuffed and dragged out of the safety of your childhood home. The soldiers marching comes to a sudden halt and you’re made to turn around and stare at the palace, a deadly silence hanging in the air.
“Burn it.”
Triggered by the commander’s words, a roaring blaze fulminates, the building being crushed in an instant by the force of the explosion. All you can see is the reflection of smouldering flickers through the thick veil of tears filling your eyes.
The commander smugly trudges over to you, sharply inhaling. “Ah, there’s nothing better than the smell of a coward’s smouldering corpse.” He hisses, words dripping with venom. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Your heart burned at the injustice, at the innocent civilians decimated- but you couldn’t fool yourself into pretending that scorn extended to your dearly departed father.
Refusing to reply to his provocation with anything other than an expectorated glob of spit aimed at his helmet, he takes the barrel of his gun and pummels it with brute force against your temple. You’re instantly rendered unconscious and your limp body is packed into the nearest starfighter, chained up and ready to make the journey from Onderon to the Death Star.
The first thing you do as you’re rudely awoken is cradle your aching head- a wave of nausea overtaking you and the electric pain behind your eyes knocking the air out of your lungs.
“Rise ’n shine, Onderon whore.” One of the soldiers grabbing you by the elbow spat and you stumbled to your feet like a newborn foal. After being dragged through a fortified steel tunnel, you were harshly thrown to the floor in a cold control room before two cloaked men, one of whom wore black combat boots- no doubt robust and heavy enough to crack open a skull. The light in the battle station glowed painfully bright and you lifted your head as best you could to observe the squabbling figures through squinted eyes.
“Here she is, my young Lord. I think she’ll do nicely, yes?” The ominously raspy voice croaked and you knew at once it was none other than Emperor Sheev Palpatine.
“She’s shivering.” The monotonous voice of the other cloaked figure stated callously and only then did you notice how your body was trembling- whether it was from the cold or the fear, you weren’t sure.
“You’ll have plenty of opportunity to warm her up on your wedding night.” He cackles wickedly but is met with silence from the man opposite him. The last thing you remember before it all went black was the light reflecting off of the quiet man’s helmet, and wondering what might be lurking underneath.
“Tskk poor thing, look at this cut on your head.” You flutter your eyes open to see a woman in a billowed white cloak tutting and fussing over you. “Good morning, princess.”
“Who are you?” You scowl, trying to get up and immediately being knocked back down by the overwhelming pain.
“Whoa, easy now! Nice ’n slow.” The woman puts her arm around your waist and helps you to sit up. “I’m Sabe, a royal handmaiden. Your handmaiden, to be exact.”
“Where am I?” You croak, uncertain you wanted to know.
“You’re on the Death Star, ma’am.”
Bile rises in your throat at the realisation that none of it was a dream- your recollection of the last 24 hours starts flooding in and your chest seizes in panic. The fire, the cloaked men, the people in the vault.
“You’re all right, just breathe. No harm is going to come to you. He’s made sure of that.” Sabe spouts and your head snaps at her.
“He?”
“Oh yes, Lord Vader gave orders for your protection. Under penalty of death. If you ask me, he just needs a woman’s touch to soften him up and he’d finally succeed in shaking that leech of an emperor off. Suppose that’s where you come in!”
“Me?” You screech, wondering when you’d say something not in the form of a question.
“Oh, you poor thing, you don’t know…the Emperor is arranging a wedding between his young protegee and a princess from a seized planet. The princess being you, if that’s not clear.” She continued chattering incessantly.
“Yes, I got that.” You snap. “And when is this supposed union meant to be taking place?”
“Tonight.”
You choose to remain quiet, rather than parroting back her last word in the form of yet another question.
After your handmaiden assists in bathing and dressing you in clean robes, you still can’t seem to escape the dull throbbing of the headache that permeates every cell of your body, leaving you in persistent agony. You beg Sabe to find something to help, knowing that you yourself weren’t allowed to leave the confines of the east wing. Stepping out onto the enclosed observatory space by your chambers, you stare out into the stars surrounding the vessel. You wished you could break beyond the thick glass enclave and just glide away, joining the stars and freeing yourself from the pain.
“Who hurt you?” A raspy voice questions and you turn around to the sight of Lord Vader, enveloped in his armour and mask.
“Uh, whoever the commander of the battalion was.” You reply, startled.
“He will be dealt with. Now come here.” He reaches his gloved hand out, signalling for you to grab it. With a great deal of uncertainty, you approached him, timidly giving him your hand. He takes it into his palm and holds it firmly to his chest. As if some force had siphoned the contusions and swelling out of you, you felt your agony slowly subside- until there was nothing at all in its wake.
“H-how did you do that?” You took a step back from him, holding your fingers up to your temple in disbelief. You’d heard of force healing before but assumed it was either a myth or a nearly lost practice only wielded by the most masterly of Jedi.
“Go back to your chambers and rest. You have a long ordeal ahead of you.” He leaves your question unanswered and marches out of the observatory as quickly as he entered it.
You’re compelled to follow his commands so you retreat to your chambers, forcing yourself to drink the healing tea Sabe concocted after having decided it was easier than explaining the bizarre experience you’d had. That was the dark Sith Lord that struck terror into the hearts of everyone who faced him? Ruthless, soulless, devoid of all human compassion- and channelling force healing to ease your headache? You spent all afternoon writhing in confusion, all the way up until a neatly packaged box was left on the doorstep of your assigned room. Upon closer inspection, the box contained an intricate white lace dress, paired with a beaded, scallop hemmed headpiece. A wedding outfit.
Standing at the forefront of the cold metallic arena, you twiddled with the sleeves on your dress- the material itching terribly and making your skin crawl. In a way, you were glad to have something occupy your mind beyond the impending prospect of marrying a Sith brute. You wondered why he wore that clunky helmet- is he so hideously deformed he has to hide behind it lest people faint at the sight?
A frightened-looking man you can only assume is the officiator of this sham of a wedding is escorted through the heavily guarded gates and takes his place before you, not daring to make eye contact. Your body fills with dread at the familiar sound of heavy boots dragging along the steel plates of the floor. He doesn’t spare you a passing glance for even a moment, despite your stubborn resolution to face him for the entirety of the ceremony- you wanted to look deep into the supposedly merciless eyes of your new husband. There aren’t any vows, there’s no exchange of rings, no kiss to celebrate the union- just some legal jargon and a couple of witnesses. Although you can’t see him, you can feel Palpatine’s snake eyes burning into you, no doubt observing from another room to ensure his mysterious plan came to fruition.
“Follow me.” A stormtrooper orders you and begins to head back in the direction of your chambers. Confused, you allow him to escort you out of the hall as you see a cloaked figure approach Lord Vader out of the corner of your eye. You just about hear the Emperor’s gravelly voice hiss out the word “consummate” before the doors shut behind you and you’re carried away to the bedroom. For some reason, the thought of sex hadn’t crossed your mind- you assumed villains like him had interests that surpassed such blunt mortal affairs - but now standing in front of your 4-poster bed, waiting for the sound of his heavy footsteps again, reality sunk in. You swallowed the thick lump in your throat and lay on the bed, removing the first layer of your dress and remaining in a white negligee. “Just lie back and think of Onderon.” You thought.
Your whole body tensed as you observed him enter your joint chambers, completely walking past you and going to the connecting bathroom, door left ajar.
“I’m ready, Lord Vader.” You stiffly announce, hoping to get it over with as soon as possible.
Hearing your words, he peers out of the doorway and although you can’t see his face, his body language seems perplexed.
“What are you doing?” He remarks accusingly.
“I-I’m…waiting for you to consummate our marriage. Like Palpatine wishes.” He scoffs at your comment- laughs even- and goes back into the bathroom.
“I will do nothing of the sort.” You hear him say.
Sitting up on the bed and dragging the covers over your exposed body, you’re bewildered.
“Oh, c-can Sith Lords not…?” You stutter, searching for an explanation.
“I assure you I’m perfectly capable.” He snaps back. “I just have no desire for the task.”
Although relief floods your body, you feel slightly offended at the presumption that lovemaking with you should be a task.
Just then, you hear a steamy hissing sound, followed by a loud thud. The figure emerges, back facing you without his layers of armour- donning a simple black shirt and black trousers. He wanders over to the window at the far end of the room, staring out into space.
“I’m sorry about your father.” He grunts after a while and you finally hear his voice- free from robotic static, with no menacing growl - just him, and it sounds beautiful.
“Don’t be.” You say sincerely, fixated on the back of his head. You notice he has dark blonde curls, gathering in tufts at the nape of his neck. “Come on, turn around.” You think, bracing yourself for what you might find.
“Alright, if you insist.” He remarks and you scowl in confusion- you didn’t say that out loud, did you?
He pivots round to face you and you feel as though someone has knocked the air from your lungs: he glares at you with mesmerising cobalt-blue eyes, embellished by abundantly thick lashes and even thicker eyebrows sitting atop his handsomely chiselled face. His cheekbones stand at attention, enhanced by his sculpted jawline, which works in perfect harmony with the rest of his body- even his collarbones are perfect. He’s full of sprightly vigour, he’s young even. You are floored and contemplate how anyone could hide such a face away in that clunky helmet.
“Not what you were expecting, huh?” He speaks, sensing the utter shock his appearance has inflicted on you.
“You…you’re-” You stutter.
“Not hideously deformed?”
“-beautiful.”
He raises his bushy eyebrows disapprovingly and you scold yourself for being so forthright. He may be devilishly handsome, but that doesn’t mean you can swoon over him. He’s a monster, remember? Sure, he has the most seductive pair of lips you’d ever seen on a man - all plump and the perfect shade of pink- and sure, he’s sparked a desire within you that you don’t think you’d ever felt before but…where were you going with this?
“I’m going to sleep in the adjoining room, you can take my chambers.” You’re snapped out of your dreamy haze by his velvety voice as he begins to walk away.
“Wait! Y-you don’t have to, I’m sure the bed is uncomfortable over there.”
“No, it’s perfectly fine.” He continues marching away.
“Wait! The bed here is more than big enough for the both of us, we wouldn’t even touch.” You stumble over your words, melting under the scrutiny of his gaze.
“Do you want me to sleep with you, Princess?” His movement comes to a halt and you’re rendered speechless. “Because that really would be something. Captured and brutalised after all that you hold dear is set alight, forced to marry a servant of evil- and then you request his company in your bed? That would be deranged. You’re not deranged now, are you Princess?”
Your mouth goes dry at the snarky way in which he’s talking to you- you admit it sounds mad out loud but the situation is more complicated than he thinks.
“N-no.” You mutter, barely above a whisper.
“Good, I wouldn’t want to find out I’ve married damaged goods.” He remarks impertinently. “I’m retiring for the evening- and I am not to be disturbed.” With that, he slams the door between you shut and you slide down your headboard, consumed by embarrassment, shame, desire. His dastardly good looks have really thrown a spanner into the works.
You barely managed to get any sleep that night, much like every night the week following the wedding. Your dreams were plagued by visions- of your father, of your captors, of your husband. Before your seizure, you already knew your future would hold a forced marriage; although an even less desirable one. Your father had plans to marry you off to your cousin, a brainless specimen by the name of Fester who was too dim-witted to even realise he was being used as a pawn in the family’s bloodline feud.
Despite your many attempts to plead and beg your way out of this union, your father dismissed you entirely- even going so far as to sanction you to the confines of your stuffy quarters, striking you remorselessly when you defied his orders.
You’d spent a lifetime dreamily peering out of your windows, waiting to be liberated by a saviour that never came- at least not in the way you thought.
Lord Vader was never present, aside from a very brief juncture in the evenings, when he would pass through your chambers on the way to his bedroom. You tried to make conversation but he either stared at you with dead, unamused eyes or flat-out ignored you. Asking him what he did during his working hours was not one of the things you tried to speak about- much preferring to stay in ignorant bliss- and he was more than happy to not be at the receiving end of your questions for once.
Growing increasingly tired of questioning your purpose on this wretched behemoth of a ship, you took the liberty of posting yourself outside his bedroom that night, waiting to block his exit until he at least acknowledged your existence. You’re ashamed to admit that you selected your nightwear especially for him- tonight choosing to wear the thinnest of slip dresses in the pathetic hopes that he might be drawn in by your pert chest.
As is routine, you hear the doors to your chambers swing open and are greeted with the welcome sight of the young Lord, who strides over to you intimidatingly. Removing his helmet and towering before you, you gulp at not just the height difference- but the sheer broadness of his shoulders compared to your slender ones.
“Move.” He states, glaring at you unaffectedly.
“No. I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.” You stubbornly huff and you think you spot a glint of amusement in his eyes.
“You don’t give the orders around here, Princess.” He asserts as he lifts you up by the waist with ease and drops you out of his way like you were a meagre traffic obstruction. You’re filled with disbelief as he enters his room, shutting the door in your face. “At least he didn’t slam it tonight.” You ponder.
Slouching down the door defeatedly, you pout as you hear him undress, desperately in need of an explanation.
“Please.” You plead pitiably, not expecting him to hear you.
You almost fall to the floor as your backrest swings open, and you lift your head to see him, sighing above you.
“What is it?”
“I-I just wanna know some things.” You mutter, cradling your knees on the floor.
“Then talk.” He taps his foot impatiently.
“Well uh- for starters, why am I here?” You rise from the floor to face him. “Why did Palpatine want you to marry me?”
“He wants me to sire a son- to ensure his plans can be carried out should I be otherwise indisposed.” He looks away coldly.
“I don’t understa-“
“Palpatine will live into his 200s. I am only human. If I am killed, he wants another apprentice to bend to his will, one just as strong with the force.”
“So why haven’t you attempted to do any siring yet?” He looks at you with a look of intense shock, disgust even. Of all the things he’s said, you take issue with his lack of action in the bedroom.
“I refuse to participate in this charade. He’ll see that you’re barren after a while- and we’ll dispose of you accordingly.”
“But I’m not barren.” You interject, dismissing the latter part of his sentence.
“It would be in your best interests to pretend you are.” You’re beguiled by his smooth voice and find yourself yearning to hear it all night. “I’ve brought someone to keep you company, hopefully with them in attendance you’ll be less inclined to seek my attention.”
“Another handmaiden? Ah, spare me- the current one is more than irritating enough on her own.” You shudder at the thought of 2 Sabes, prattling in your ear all day.
“No, I’ve ordered for the capture of your former attendant. I believe you were quite fond of him- Silas, is it?”
Your heart seizes, he’s alive? More importantly, he’s being brought to you? You stare at the scowling face of your husband, who looks afraid you might try to do something overly affectionate.
“A purely self-indulgent measure. To prevent any future ambushes like the one tonight.” He backtracks, attempting to impose some distance but you disregard it entirely. “If that’s not enough to keep you occupied, you can also have access to my private library - Silas will be waiting for you there tomorrow.”
“Thank you, my Lord,” You whisper, throwing caution to the wind and wrapping your arms against his waist, face snugly pressed into his firm chest. You feel him tense up at the intrusion, but he relaxes ever so slightly with an exhale, hovering his arms above your own- careful not to let them touch lest he give you the impression he’s embracing you back.
“Call me Anakin.” He mumbles softly.
You wake up the next day, your chest feeling lighter than it has in years. Bounding out of bed, you instil deep confusion in Sabe, who enters your room with fresh clothes.
“Having a good morning?” She asks.
“I think actually, yes. Yes, I am.” You reply resolutely, allowing her to dress you without your usual complaints as she tightens your corset.
“Might this have anything to do with Lord Vader?” She raises an eyebrow, consumed with curiosity.
“Perhaps. Or perhaps I see that my new life might not be so bad after all. I believe I have someone waiting for me, you’re dismissed for now, Sabe.” You waltz out of your chambers to the library that Anakin mentioned you were granted entrance to.
You enter the room and stare in wonder at the rows upon rows of polished shelves, furnished with all kinds of large, leather-bound books. Among the volumes of publications is a tall, spindly man- standing with his back turned.
“Silas!” You cry out and dart towards him, colliding against him in a tight embrace.
“Princess! Let me look at you, are you hurt?” He grabs your face, inspecting it for any cuts or bruises.
“No, no I’m perfectly fine!” You smile.
“How could you possibly be fine? I heard about the wedding- it’s a scandal, it’s a disgrace! The intergalactic senate will hear about this- I promise I will get you out!“
“Silas, it’s okay, I’m being treated well here.” Your reply sends him into a stunned silence.
“You’ve been married to a Sith Lord. A princess of the purest blood made to intermingle with the lap dog of the Emperor. I don’t even want to think about what you’ve been forced to do here to survive.” He shudders.
“I haven’t been made to do anything. And Anakin really isn’t that bad once you get to know him a little.”
“Anakin?” Silas almost breaks out in hives at what he’s hearing.
“Yeah, that’s his real name. And oh, Silas, he’s so handsome!” You clamber on, reading the titles off a nearby bookshelf and digging for something that might take your fancy.
“I don’t believe this. One week under captivity and you’ve been brainwashed already.” He takes his head into his hands.
“I haven’t been brainwashed.” You chuckle. “Anakin is the one who brought you here. Just for me. And he lets me have the nicest quarters on the ship- and I’m allowed private access to the whole library!” You gush.
“So he’s built you a very pleasant cage. Fantastic. Just because your prison has a nice interior doesn’t make it your home.”
“Well, it’s no less of a prison than Onderon was. At least in this one, my marriage isn’t incestuous.” Silas’s eyes widen beyond measure at the boldness of your statement and he takes a seat before he collapses.
“He used the force to heal me when I was in pain.”
“And what caused you to be hurt in the first place?” He snaps back accusingly.
“Silas, listen to me.” You kneel beside him, taking his hand into your own. “I’ve spent too many years worrying about the fate of my future, cursing the Maker for how little control I had over my own destiny. No more. I can only take life as it comes in small waves- I have relinquished control. This is my new home now.”
With a heavy sigh, Silas nods- looking away as if unable to process your revelation.
“Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet.” You say, mischievous twinkle in your eye.
The remainder of the day is spent flicking through various books, amassing a pile of them in your bedroom so high that you could barely see Sabe’s head poking through when she entered.
“Um, m’lady? If you won’t be requiring anything else for the night, can I retire? Silas and I were thinking of wandering down to the observatory by my quarters…”
“Of course, Sabe, enjoy.” You chuckle as she meekly smiles and exits your room. You knew they’d hit it off, one perennial chatterbox with another. Flicking through the last page of the first edition volume of The Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise, you hummed discontentedly. “What a terrible ending.” You thought as you inspected the piles on your floor for the second volume. You suspect you must’ve left it in the library when you were packing your books onto the trolley so you wrap a thin robe around yourself and march down the hall. You notice the lights already burning as you enter the library cautiously, peering your head through to see Anakin, sitting on an armchair and reading something out of a thick, metal-encased manual.
“What’s your book about?” You query as you approach him slowly.
“It’s a story about a very naughty princess who loves to go looking for trouble.” He sneers, lip curling up into the shadow of a smile.
“No, it’s not!” You titter as you pry over the bind, seeing various starfighter diagrams and mechanical cross-sections.
“What do you want now?” He shuts the book promptly.
“I just came to collect something I left behind.” You reply innocently.
“I trust you’re enjoying my collection, then.” He looks up at you for the first time and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of his dreamy eyes.
“Oh yes, it’s very impressive. I didn’t think Sith Lords read so much.”
“They don’t.” He gets up from his chair, sauntering over to a nearby shelf and picking out a specific book. “Try this, I think you’ll like it.” He throws the book in your direction and you catch it; observing the cover, you speculate it’s some kind of historical tale about a lost civilisation.
“Thank you, I’ll be sure to read it.” You tuck it under your arm. “Are you retiring for the night yet?”
“Yes, I’ll leave the library to you.” He gets up to leave but you stand in front of him.
“I was only here to get something, escort me back?” You ask and he looks you up and down before making a low grunting sound, something you can only assume is a sign of acceptance. He heads out the door and you follow, trailing behind him like a lost puppy.
“I never got to thank you.” You say as you enter your chambers, seizing the short moment you have to converse before he disappears into his bedroom.
“What could you possibly have to thank me for?” He rolls his eyes.
“For rescuing me.” You reach out to touch him by the arm but back down, courage failing you.
“You’ve lost your mind.”
“No, really. My circumstances back home were…less than ideal.” You stare down at your feet.
“I admit I find it peculiar that you don’t seem to be in mourning.” He notes, more intrigue in his tone than you’re used to.
“Would you be in mourning over a man who oppressed and rebuked you at every turn?”
“I see. I suppose that explains your…unorthodox behaviour.” For the very first time, he takes a seat on the chaise lounge by your bed- does he actually want to have this conversation with you?
“I guess you could say that. After he locked me up in the palace and forced me to accept my cousin’s betrothal, I abandoned all hope for the future and resigned myself to perpetual misery. And then you came along.” He squints his eyes, looking almost frustrated with your positivity.
“Are you sure you understand the situation you’ve found yourself in? You’re aware you’ve been abducted- forced to spend every day locked up here, never to see your planet or familiars again? Forced to play wife to me?” He gawks incredulously.
“You’re not as bad as you make out.” You smile at him. “And you’re certainly very easy on the eyes.” You look for changes in his demeanour but it remains unaffected. “Would you have preferred it if I was terrified and unwilling to go near you?”
“Terrified? Of course not, the thought of it sickened me. Unwilling to go near me? I’m not sure I’d mind.” He states and you wonder if that was his way of making a joke. “I regret that you’ve been ensnared into this. I wish it could’ve been different.”
“I don’t.” You pluck up the courage to sit beside him, placing your hand on his leg. “I can see there’s goodness within you. It’s almost tangible in the way you treat me.”
“Clearly I’ve given you the wrong impression.” He mutters gruffly, visibly uncomfortable. “And you can stop wearing those little dresses around me. All you’re going to succeed in doing is get frostbite.” He pushes your hand off him.
“Do you find me that repulsive?” You question sharply, tired of being made to feel undesirable. “I’ve been told my looks rival that of some of the fairest Princesses in the galaxy. Is a man like yourself so completely cold to the affections of women?”
“I fail to see how that is relevant.” He dismisses.
“It’s relevant because I’m tired of my bed being cold. You chose to marry me, now act like a husband!”
“What choice? I had no choice!” He shouts back and your blood runs cold when he stands towering over you.
“That makes two of us. But I fail to see what good can come from sulking about it.” You lower your tone.
“You’re that desperate, huh?” He sneers condescendingly.
“So what if I am?” You throw caution to the wind, fully aware of the way you’re debasing yourself right now; after the breadcrumbs of affection he’d been giving you, you couldn’t take it anymore.
“Fine.” He says, making his way over to the bed, ripping off his shirt.
“W-what are you doing?” You murmur as he undresses and positions himself in the middle of your stately bed.
“I’m ready, Princess.” He mocks, parroting what you’d said to him on your wedding night. “You wanted to fuck me, right? Well here I am. At your royal disposal.”
“N-not like this.” You mutter, trying not to stare at his firm pecs or chiselled abdomen.
“What’s the matter? You’ve been prancing around in those little dresses all week, practically begging me to give you a scrap of my attention and now I’m in our marital bed, you’re too scared?”
“I’m not scared, I just don’t want to feel like I’m forcing myself on you.” You mutter quietly, drained of all confidence.
“You’re worried about all the wrong things. Palpatine told me to brutalise you to within an inch of your life, you know that? To take all my anger out on you and make you pay for the sins of your family. And you’re worried about whether you’re taking advantage of me. I fear I have been too soft. You seem to forget who you’re speaking to.”
“But you didn’t.” You sniffle.
“What?”
“But you didn’t do those things. You’re a good man, Anakin.” Your voice softens and you climb up the bed to join him, allowing your gaze to linger on the small line of blonde curling hair starting from his belly button, travelling down to what lay underneath his underwear.
“No. I haven’t quite lost all my humanity.” He breathes heavily, seemingly noticing your staring.
“Let me show you my appreciation.” You bit your lip and bravely met his intense gaze. He doesn’t respond, the only noticeable reaction being his eyes wandering down to your breasts, thin material doing little to conceal your pert nipples.
“Do you wish to see me?” You ask, fingers toying with the straps as he huffs slightly, acting as though this were beneath him- but still remaining silent. You shrug the material off, revealing your round, perky breasts to him. You think you can see something twitching in his boxers but you can’t be sure.
“Can I?” You ask, gesturing to sit on his lap but he remains speechless. “Please, my Lord, I need to hear you-“
“Yes.”
A grin spreads across your face as you mount him, completely bare. Putting your hands on his chest, you move your hips a little to feel him. Not that you were expecting any less for a man of his stature, but you felt yourself getting soaked at his formidable size; he was surely 8 inches, and just as satisfyingly thick. Your eyes fall to his pretty face and you’re overcome with the urge to kiss him all over. Reaching down to plant small kisses over his temple and cheeks, you feel him stiffen even more.
“What are you doing?” He grumbles.
“Shut up and kiss me.” You pant as you capture his lips in a soft kiss, brushing them against each other. You can feel him almost fighting the urge to hold you so you take the initiative and grab him by the jaw, kissing him deeply and passionately. You think you hear a moan slip out of his mouth but when you pull away, he’s still got the same cold expression on his beautiful face- brows slightly furrowed and lips pursed in disaffection.
“If you’re waiting for me to make a move, it’s not going to happen.” He sighs, looking fatigued. A quiet rage simmers within you. You’ve had suitors lining up at the palace gates since you were a teenager and now this glorified servant is behaving as though he is the prize. You craved the chance to teach him not to underestimate you, to make him see you were special. “On another occasion, perhaps.” You thought. Tonight, you just wanted to make him writhe beneath you.
“If you’re going to be making snarky comments all evening, I’m going to stuff my panties in your mouth to silence you.”
“What panties? You didn’t wear any.” He grins and your chest sets alight. However brief it was, it’s the first time you’ve seen a genuine smile. His teeth were pearly and straight, and his smile broad enough to reach across his whole face in a bright, radiant flash. You felt like your day had gotten better just by being witness to it.
“Why do you always do that?” He breaks your trance.
“Huh, do what?”
“Disassociate. You stare right through me when you do it.”
“M’sorry. I can’t help it.” You feel a fierce shyness overcome you.
“You find me that handsome?”
“Yes.” You whisper. You have no idea why you’re admitting to it.
“Is that why you don’t mind being married to me?” He continues and you’re confused by the volume of questions coming your way- it’s more than he’s talked to you all week.
“Partly.” He smirks a little at the ego boost and places his hands on the back of his neck, arm muscles flexing as they’re extended. You trail a line from the centre of his chest down to his abdomen with the tip of your index finger, stopping as you reach the band of his boxers. You look up at him and he raises an eyebrow at you, almost daring you to go further. Toying with the band for a little while, you steel yourself and pull them down in one prompt motion. You have to hold in a wince as you take it in- in all its thick, veiny glory. With a shuddery breath, you savour the view before you: his strong, toned arms trailed down to his athletic torso, v-line achingly defined and sloping down to his large, pink-tipped member. “Even his dick is pretty.” You mentally cursed. His smirking, confident simper never faltered, not feeling a fragment of insecurity for even a moment.
Knowing you weren’t going to get any warming up from him, you lifted your hips and angled yourself up, tip kissing your entrance. Maintaining eye contact, you slowly sunk down on him, lowering yourself gradually until your bare skin brushed against the curls around the base of his cock. He shuts his eyes for a moment and exhales lightly, pretty lips forming into a small o shape. You try to subdue the overwhelming feeling of being filled so deeply, not wanting to stroke his ego even more than you already have. You begin to move, riding him very slowly and focusing on his chest as it rises and falls, eyes watering at the sensation of being stretched out. Worrying that he’s going to question why you’re going so slow, you begin to speed up even though it aches.
“Slow down.” He speaks softly. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“As if you care.” You huff.
“Don’t get on my bad side, Princess.” He shoots you a deadly glance and you slow back down, knowing better than to disobey him. It takes you a good while to accommodate to his size, oo’s and aa’s escaping your mouth every time you straighten up and sink down on his cock a little too deeply- but after the adjustment period, you start to ride him confidently. Your tits bounce with a hypnotising jiggle as you smack the flesh of your ass against his thighs, wetness drenching you both. Noticing how his arms lay by his side, you grab him by the wrist and lay them on your hips. He grips onto them slightly for a moment, but quickly releases and lets them fall back down to his sides. You whine a little, starved of affection. You were bouncing on his cock yet you still felt like you weren’t close.
“Please?” You moan.
“You wanted this, not me. I said I’m not participating, didn’t I?” His voice rings out, completely unaffected while you were a panting mess.
“Don’t pretend like you’re not- ah- enjoying it. F-feels good, doesn’t it?” You stutter, feeling his tip prodding that spongy spot within you that threatens to be your undoing.
“It’s fine.” He replies, still refusing to engage in any meaningful way.
“Oh come on, Anakin! Give me something.” You feel like you’re one snarky comment away from resorting to begging.
“I’ve given you my cock. What more do you want out of me?”
“I want you to talk to me, I want you to touch me. To be present!”
“And I want for my wife to not be such a whore.” Your mouth gapes open at his harsh words, but you continue bouncing, getting too close to stop now. “I mean seriously, you’re being held hostage and all you can think about is getting fucked? There’s nothing in that little brain of yours other than visions of me fucking you, is there? I’ve seen them.”
You moan at his degrading words- if you weren’t so cock drunk, you might be ashamed of the way you’re allowing him to speak to you.
“Oh my God, are you gonna cum from me talking down to you? Does me calling you a stupid whore get you off?” He rambles and you can’t stop yourself from turning into a whimpering mess, moans spilling out at every turn and unintelligible groans flooding the room as you bounce on his cock.
He reaches up towards you and you think he might be pulling you in for a kiss but instead, he hooks his fingers into the corners of your mouth, stretching it out. You babble out disjointed syllables, too overwhelmed to establish a rhythm that isn’t completely sloppy.
“The fuck are you even saying right now?” He laughs and oh god, there’s that smile again- if his cock wasn’t enough, now his grin is making your legs feel like jelly.
“What are these dumb little sounds you’re spluttering out? You sound like an idiot.” The lewd squelching noises increase in intensity as you fall apart on top of him in a sudden climax- pleasure hitting you like a truck and nearly knocking you out. You pant on top of him, trying to catch your breath with your head resting on his chest. He clears his throat after a minute and you shuffle off him, laying your head on the nearby pillow instead.
“Wow. That was…did you not cum?” It occurs to you that you’d just used him for your own pleasure.
“Of course not.” He gruffly responds, legs still spread and cock exposed, glistening with your arousal. “I have self control.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask and he turns to face you.
“You’re like a bitch in heat. It’s not very princess-like of you.”
“Well, I’m not a princess anymore. I’m a Sith Lord’s wife.” You counter.
“Wives don’t ride like that.” You know he didn’t mean it as a compliment but you chose to take it as one anyway.
“Aren’t you going to cover up?” You point at his exposed body while you clutch the crisp white sheets around yourself.
“Why should I?” He snaps back and you’re taken aback by his show of confidence. And you certainly weren’t complaining.
“Yeah, I bet you aren’t.”
“Okay, you’ve got to stop doing that! It’s unnatural.” You complain.
“I don’t ordinarily pay such close attention to these things but your mind is so dirty.”
“Oh yeah? What have I been thinking about in the last couple minutes then?”
“You’ve been wondering how I’m both a shower and a grower, how you’ve never been so wet before - oh, and how you want to fuck me again.” Your cheeks redden at his painfully accurate observations- and you feel his vulgarity plant a renewed desire within you.
“Really, you want another round? Fine. Hop on.” He sighs, tapping his thigh. You stare at him affectionately with a smile as if to say “really?” and you clamber over him again. You only have to press your dripping body against him once and he quickly hardens again, tip oozing with precum. You waste no time impaling yourself, pussy swallowing him greedily- slightly sore but still stretched out enough to take him with ease.
“Anakin, please.” You mumble, reaching for his hands- needing to feel them on your skin.
“What do you want?” He replies breathily.
“Please, touch me.” You slide up and down his shaft, body racked with delirious pleasure. “Pleasepleaseplease - please Anakin!” He scoffs smilingly at how you’ve been reduced to a needy mess before he’s even put an ounce of effort in. “Do you want me to beg? I’ll get on my knees and beg- please, touch me just a little, please Ani-“
“Alright, alright, enough!” He stops you and you wince at his harsh tone, wishing that just for once, he’d be gentle with you.
“I’m sorry, it’s okay. I’m right here.” He reaches out and wraps his hands around your dainty waist, right arm gradually trailing up your body. His knuckles brush against your cheek tenderly before he wraps his strong hand around your jaw and pulls you in for a kiss. You squeak in shock at the unexpected affection as your breasts press against his chest, one hand squishing your soft flesh and the other wrapped up in your hair.
“Mmm, Ani.” You hum, your deepest craving finally quelled.
“No one’s called me that in a really long time.” He mumbles into the kiss, sliding both hands down to your ass cheeks and gripping them firmly.
“Is this what you wanted?” He asks as he slides you on and off him, commanding your movements with his strong grasp.
“Oh God yes, fuck Ani- ah.” You gasped as he began lifting his hips and fucking his cock into you, fingernails digging into your hips. “‘m not gonna last much longer if you keep go -oh, just like th- aah.”
“You don’t need to.” He whines, finally allowing himself to utter his own sweet sounds.
“Nuh uh, I-I want you to cum with me.” You whimper in his ear as you wrap your arms around his neck. Cradling you, he wraps one arm around your back and rests his other hand on the back of your head while drilling you with such vigour you almost black out.
“Shh, baby, shh- ’s okay.” He moans and your walls flutter at the heavenly sound. Try as you may, you can’t stop the drool that streams out of your mouth, fucked so dumb that you’re losing control over your senses.
“You’re close, can feel you gripping me.” He sputters, barely audible over the sound of your squeals. “You want the whole ship to hear you, huh?”
“I want them all to know who I belong to.” You manage to get out clearly, trying to get a handle on your faculties. Rising up from being tucked into his neck, you start bouncing on him with the excitement of a little bunny, so desperate to bring him to his release. You look down at him, eyes screwed shut, gnawing on his bottom lip and you feel how furiously his eager cock throbs inside you.
“Want you to fill me up.” You warble, dropping your hands to lay on either side of his face, soft locks brushing against your wrists. “I wanna be yours.” You stare into his eyes, which have just fluttered open, eyebrows knitted close together.
“You’re already mine.” He whispers, grabbing you by the waist and turning you over in one swift motion, your back hitting the plumpness of the bed. Before you can take a breath, he slams into you again and your back arches from the overstimulation.
Hooking his arms around your thighs and pulling you deeper into him, he roughly pounds against you, cock gliding into your sensitive core. You try to focus yourself, gnawing on your lip and mentally repeating: “You can’t cum this quickly again.”
“Oh yes, you can.” He asserts mischievously, speeding up his sloppy strokes until your eyes roll to the back of your head. You grip the sheets around you, trying desperately to hold on for just a few seconds longer.
“Don’t you dare.” He growls, slapping against you roughly. Beads of sweat trickle down his defined pecs, down to the creamy mess where your bodies meet. With one final gloopy thrust, you scream out his name and collapse entirely, body convulsing with pleasure as he moans at the sight, burying his face into your thigh.
“Goddamn…” You hear him mutter as he continues using your body like a toy, dragging you onto him in a way that you don’t even notice in your cock drunk stupor. You hear a glorious groan escape his lips as he pulls out, painting your body with his creamy white cum.
“Why’d you pull out?” You whine, completely spent and feeling woefully empty now that your bodies weren’t connected anymore.
“You know why.” He exhales as his head hits the pillow beside you. “I refuse to let a child come into this.” You huff a little but feel too exhausted to argue.
Shuffling over, you test his boundaries by leaning your head against his shoulder. When he noticeably stiffens and backs away a little, you sit up hastily to face him.
“Really, Anakin? You’re still not comfortable around me?”
“I’m as comfortable as I need to be.” He murmurs and you let out a fussy whine.
“I’ve just given myself to you entirely and you can’t even hold me after? Please, Ani, you’re making me feel really-“
“Fine! If it’ll get you to be quiet.” He pulls you in swiftly, his strong arm wrapped around you protectively and you let out a satisfied hum while he shakes his head- no doubt wondering how he got stuck with such a petulant child.
The days that followed were full of you waltzing around the ship, lost in your daydreams. Anakin had been dispatched to a different system for a mission and much to your displeasure, wouldn’t return for several days yet; you never knew exactly how long his journeys would last, you only knew they were doubtlessly too long. You missed him dearly - and if the way he hugged you back before he left was any indication- you were growing on him too.
After enthusiastically getting through the book Anakin recommended, he told you that he’d left a stack out by his desk in the library- a personally hand-picked selection that he believed you’d enjoy. Your heart fluttered at the thought and you felt yourself keenly gliding over to it. You reminisced fondly about the way his soft hair felt when it brushed through your hands, how his dreamy eyes made you weak at the knees- how he had the prettiest cock you’d ever seen. You didn’t realise it was possible for someone to be so perfect- so what if he had an unsavoury pastime? It was a flaw you were willing to overlook if it meant you got to wake up next to that face.
Entering the library, you hum a chirpy song and float over to the desk where you find a neat pile of books in varying colours and sizes. Just as you were about to pick the first one out of the stack, Silas rushes in- scruffy and disorganised, looking over his shoulder.
“Princess! Princess, you must hurry. They’re here- they’re finally here.” He sputters, grabbing onto your wrist like a madman and leading you out.
“Slow down! What’s going on?” You question, wondering why you were running along with him.
“Oh but we must be quick, the stormtroopers can only be held off for so long! Sabe is leading the distraction-“
“Who? Who’s here?” You shout back, brain spinning in confusion.
“The Senate has sent an army - a rescue team for you!” Silas stares at you with crazed eyes, sweating with anxiety. “We can finally go home!”
“W-what?” You stutter, allowing him to lead you out to the docking bay where you can see a battleship undoubtedly belonging to the Galactic Republic- suspended midair awaiting boarding.
“Wait, wait, no.” You backtrack but the grip Silas has around your wrist is too strong to easily break from.
“You don’t mean to tell me you wish to stay here with that brute?” He glances back at you, face painted with disgust as he pushes on for the last few metres left until you reach the ship. “He doesn’t care about you.”
“That’s not true!” You shout, propellers buzzing over you with a furious intensity.
“Is that so? Then why isn’t he putting up a fight right now?” He gestures behind you and you turn around to where the observatory window is. There he is, standing behind the glass, looking at you calmly.
“Do you see? He doesn’t even care enough to stop you!” Silas digs his fingernails into your wrist as you reach the ship, doors unloading with a steamy hiss. “Get in!” He yells, pushing you forward with all his might.
He’s letting you go. He’s letting you leave.
“No!” You fight back, striking Silas across the face and sprinting out of his reach as soon as his grasp on you loosens.
“You idiot! Stay here and rot with those Sith devils!” He curses, clambering up the stairs and smacking the handle, signalling for them to shut. Tears course roughly down your face as you stand back and see the ship ascending before darting off into the distance in a beaming flash. Turning around, you run as fast as your feet will carry you, scrambling up to the observatory to the man you’d just abandoned life as you knew it for.
Throwing the doors open, you see him: mouth parted, eyebrows raised and a singular tear rolling down his cheekbone. You jump into his arms, colliding and entangling yourself with him.
“Why did you do that, huh?!” He grabs your face with both hands, kissing you desperately. “Why would you do something so stupid?” You break out into a sob as he mumbles against your lips. “I would’ve let you go, you could’ve left.”
“I know, that’s why I stayed.” You wrap your hands around his own, still in a firm grip around your face. “I love you, Ani.” You gaze up at him with such adoration he feels his cold heart bursting.
“I love you too.”
As soon as the words leave his beautiful lips, you leap to kiss them- trying desperately to memorise every detail and every sensation that belonged to this moment.
“I-I thought you would’ve surely left if you could.” He murmurs, struggling to break away from your lips. “Thought you were jus’ making the most out of a bad situation.”
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You say sincerely, hoping he could feel the love you have for him pouring out of you.
“I don’t believe my eyes.” A dreaded raspy voice resonates across the room. “The Princess has fallen in love with my apprentice. And he seems to love her back? Now this is just precious.” Anakin stands in front of you protectively, pushing you back.
“She will prove to be useful in the future.” The Emperor hisses, glaring at you with an empty hunger in his eyes. “Now that she has demonstrated her loyalty.”
“It’s the last show of loyalty you’ll ever see.” Anakin spits as he draws his lightsaber from the left belt hook on his robes and strikes Palpatine, beheading him in one swift motion before he can even register what’s struck him.
“He always taught me that even the most powerful of enemies can be defeated-“ He turns to face you, retracting his glowing lightsaber. “with the element of surprise.”
A twisted grin creeps up on your face as he swoops you up like a true bride- lifting you with a firm hold and carrying you out of the room while you wrap your arms around his neck, planting kisses all over.
“I think it’s high time me and my wife got some privacy, don’t you think?” He gestures at the incoming stormtroopers, who confusedly back away after spotting Palpatine’s decapitated body. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
You giggle as he carries you to your chambers, throwing you onto the bed and peering out of the large doors one last time before shutting them with a loud clamber- ah, free from disturbance at last.
The Winner Takes it All: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Enemies-to-Lovers Modern AU)
NSFW! Minors DNI!!!
Summary: The moment the thesis competition was announced, you knew your biggest threat. Anakin Skywalker, golden boy of the engineering department. He's the only other person smart enough to beat you, and the only other person insane enough to stay in the lab until midnight every night. He's also an asshole, but you're starting to think maybe he's not as bad as you thought he was...
Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader
CW: mentions of masturbation
WC: 3.4k
AN: hello darlings!! another anakin x reader longer fic coming your way!! lmk what you think, and asks/requests are always open!
[Ch. 1], Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6
Chapter 1: Soldering
The moment the competition was announced, you knew your biggest threat. Anakin Skywalker, golden boy of the department. As soon as he heard about it at the thesis info session of your senior year, his eyes found you in the crowd, because he knew you're his biggest rival, and you're coming for him. He was surprised to find you were looking at him, based on the way his eyes widened, and you found a shocking amount of satisfaction in it. The top prize was 10k and a job at Boeing, after all. The more you surprised him, the more likely you were to catch him off-guard. Not that you would sabotage his work, that was just unseemly conduct for a senior at Coruscant U, but you'd encourage his sloppiness.
The instant after the presentation finished, you rushed to the lab. The thesis lab adjoined the regular makerspace in a continuation of the glass walls and sleek design of the rest of the engineering building. You'd spent the end of your junior year there, when you'd had to submit your thesis proposal (A Novel Method for Glaucoma Detection Utilizing Machine Learning and Mass-Producible Hardware). Anakin was always there too, which made the space just a little more annoying, with the loud music blasting out of his headphones and the hair-raising racket of the band saw.
Last year, you'd decided to admit to yourself, despite your best efforts since you had met him, that okay, Anakin Skywalker was hot. Like, horrendously hot. He was a looker no matter what he did, with those blue puppy dog eyes, full lips, and his gorgeous chestnut hair, which looked so soft that you had wondered on multiple occasions what it would be like to touch it. And, being captain of the university taekwondo team, he was muscular as all get-out. You'd catch a peek at his calves and ass on hot days when he wore shorts, and his biceps and shoulders were almost always flexed in the lab when he was sawing something or bent over the soldering station. One time, he wore grey sweatpants, and you had to literally tear your eyes away. But it wasn't just those features that made him hot. It was, unfortunately, him as a person. The confidence with which he sauntered through the building. His mischievous smile that he'd cast you in group projects, or the clench of his jaw as he wired something finicky. Your roommate, Ahsoka, a junior and also his vice-captain, told you that, oh yeah, he was also really good with younger team members. That he taught kids in the nearby school once a week, too, even though he had such a busy schedule. Wasn't that just sweet.
He wasn't that kind to you. Another thing that made him hot, unfortunately, was his brain, and his wit. He was kind of smart, okay, very smart, and that might make him the one thing standing in your way this year. Anakin also never shied away from a biting comment at you, usually about how if you had done it correctly, you wouldn't have an issue with some wiring. Unfortunately, he was usually right, but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of telling him that.
Your rivalry started in freshman year, when your physics professor would choose the best student's homework and post it to the class as an example. You were sure you'd be chosen--your first homework was perfect--but then you saw his name. Anakin Skywalker. The next week, you beat him, but then he came out on top immediately after. And so it went. Always fighting for the top spot, to see who could outdo the other. Now, the department was just paying you to do it.
You were in the lab right after the "Senior Thesis Information Session" presentation, using the few minutes you had before your thermodynamics class to tinker with the 3D print that had just finished. Then, the door slid open with the beep of an ID card. You didn't have to turn around to know it was Anakin. Only he would be insane enough to work on day 1 of the semester. Him, and you.
"So you're seriously competing for this, huh?" He asked, watching you sand off some rough edges off the plastic. His tone was playful, but there was an undercurrent of seriousness. He was sizing up the competition.
"Yup. And I'm gonna blow you out of the water," you said self-assuredly. Your project was too good not to win. Anakin barked out a laugh.
"Sure. Right. We'll see about that," he remarked. His voice was dripping with smugness, just like usual with you. You just rolled your eyes. It wasn't worth it to waste time verbally sparring with him, you had better things to do. Like thermo. So you pushed out of your chair, leaving the print on the shelf that had your name laser cut into wood (a gift you had made yourself after your junior thesis proposal got an A), and heading to Lecture Hall 3.56B. Anakin was, of course, heading there too. You were in lockstep, as always. However, he refused to walk there with you, so he waited precisely enough for you to close the door before he left too.
And so, the first three months of the semester passed in relative peace between the two of you. There was only a handful of people who used the thesis room, and you were the only ones there consistently. It helped because safety regulations meant you had to have a buddy in the room to use any of the really useful machines, so you sometimes found yourself pleased to see him. It meant you could get work done. At night, the engineering building was fifteen minutes away from the dorms where you both lived--in the same building, which vexed you to no end when you saw him in the dining hall--so you both had to make the walk home late at night through the city. Oftentimes, you ended up walking home at the same time. It would be wrong to call it walking together, because that would imply you were near each other, or in each other's company, which would be plain wrong. You were always as far as possible on the sidewalk, and oftentimes you two would end up speedwalking home, not allowing the other person to be faster. Was it childish? Maybe. Did you feel a rush of joy every single time you hit the door to your building before him? Definitely.
In November, as the biting cold chilled the air, you found yourself done before him. All your current tasks were done, and you had to wait for a print to finish before you could keep going, plus he wasn't using any machines that needed a buddy, according to lab rules. It had been a long day, and you'd barely dragged your bones into the lab, let alone through all that work.
"Hang on," his voice called from across the space. He was at the soldering station in his safety glasses, bent over some chip.
"What?" Why couldn't you just go home? To your beautiful bed?
"I don't feel good about you walking home alone, so can you just wait for, like, three more seconds?" He wasn't even looking at you as he said it, instead he was pressing the soldering iron to some metal. You scoffed. Like you were so frail you couldn't walk fifteen minutes on your own.
"Are you serious? Do you think I'm vulnerable because, what, I have a vagina? I've taken self-defense classes, thank you very much." Your tone was poisonous, and you tried to infuse every drop of venom you had in you at his stupid idea. Anakin finally looked up from the bench, turning the iron off and cleaning it in the steel wool, catching your eyes with an angry glare.
"No, dumbass. You're just less likely to get robbed in this part of town if you're not alone. But do what you want, I guess. Have fun getting all your valuables taken!" He shrugged sardonically and turned off the vent fan above him. Anakin was right, it killed you to admit. You didn't exactly feel safe walking home at 3am through this part of town. There were enough reports of students getting hurt. So you planted yourself in your chair and waited. When he saw you, a smug smile grew on his face. Asshole.
"C'mon, let's go home," he said nonchalantly once he'd shut down and locked the woodworking room and the laser cutters. As you walked home, this time at a comfortable pace and with his headphones off, you realized it was almost nice, peaceful to be with him like this. The night was still, not a single thing moving in the dark of the night. You passed the corner store, its graffiti-covered grate down at night, then the Vietnamese restaurant you loved, dark and empty. There was no one on the planet but the two of you at that moment. Much to your chagrin, you didn't mind it at that moment. Anakin looked even more ethereal in the moonlight, lighting up the light parts of his hair a silvery white and casting shadows all over his face. He really was handsome, you admitted reluctantly. When you got home, he wished you a good night, which he had never gone. You found the word escaping your lips out of habit. After that, your walking home at the same time turned into walking home together. On November the 8th, he asked you how you were doing. You told him you were good, your tone clipped. He echoed good into the quiet street, then you lapsed into silence. On the 10th, he asked if Ahsoka was feeling better. She had sprained her ankle at practice the previous day. You told him she was, and he said good again. On the 11th, he asked how your project was going, and, in a fit of weakness, you told him it wasn't great. That you were nervous about your first real test of the finished product, the one that would tell you if the past three months had been wasted or not. He told you that if anyone could do it, it would be you, and you spend the rest of the walk wondering where the insult buried inside the statement was hiding. Later that night, once you had tucked into bed, you realized there wasn't any insult at all, just genuine encouragement. For the next week, your walks were filled with slightly guarded conversation, sometimes about upcoming homework assignments, but sometimes about how the taekwondo team was doing, or if you thought Professor Yoda's ear hairs were a countable or uncountable infinity. But he was still an asshole.
About a week later, you were alone with Anakin in the lab around midnight, working on a piece of the lens, trying to get the refraction just right before the test run, when your phone buzzed. Midterm Grade Posted for PHYS 485: Thermodynamics. Your heart stopped. You had been hoping and praying that the number of hours you'd poured into your thesis wouldn't come back to bite you in terms of classwork, but now was the moment of truth. You opened the notification, then to the Canvas page, where you saw your grade. 38/100. Everything in the world stopped. How could you have fucked up that badly? Your eyes scanned over instructor comments. Average class grade: 40/100. Maximum grade: 49/100. Okay, okay. It would be curved up, and you'd probably get a B, but you were below average for the first time in your life. Fuck. Fuck. How could this happen? You glared at Anakin, who was screwing in a bolt to the metal scaffolding of his project. That motherfucker was probably the one who got 49. The thought made you so angry you bolted out of your chair and went to go grab the materials for your test. That motherfucker got everything. It wasn't fair.
You lined up the small device you made, plugged it into the port of your phone, and opened the corresponding software. Through the external lens, you scanned the two printed-out pictures of eyes, one with glaucoma and one without. You held your breath throughout the loading screen. Please, just let one thing go right. Please. Please. The little loading circle stopped. Both eyes were cleared of glaucoma. A false negative. Motherfucker. Three months of work, and for what? You'd never get the prize at this rate. You'd have to start from scratch. You slammed your fist onto the table in anger.
"Hey, there's hammers for that," Anakin called, teasing from the other side of the room. He looked up at you, mouth open to snark something else out, when he saw your eyes welling with tears.
"Woah, are you okay? What's wrong? Did you hurt yourself?" His voice was soft, warm. Anakin dropped the wrench he was holding on the table and half-jogged over to you, putting his hand on your shoulder. You jumped at the contact, but it wasn't entirely unwelcome. It was kind of comforting, actually, but you were too upset to notice that.
"It's just, it's not working, and I've spent so much time and--" you trailed off.
"Don't cry, it's okay, we can fix it," he said with a shrug and a smile. Why was he smiling? God, was he actually pleased right now? Suddenly, your tears turned to anger, not at yourself or the system or the difficulty of your project, but at him.
"Like you're not happy about this. I bet you sabotaged it yourself," you spat out and shrugged his hand off your shoulder. He balked.
"Sabotage? Are you serious? I'd never do that." You stood up, incensed, and pointed a finger into his chest.
"Really? It sounds exactly like something you would do--remember in sophomore year when Barriss's robot mysteriously stopped working?" He half laughed, half scoffed, mouth dropping open, then snapped back with his voice raised.
"You've got to be kidding! Maybe if you paid two seconds of attention to your classmates or anyone around you, you'd know it was her wiring! The connections were bad!"
"Sure," your voice dripped with sarcasm as you scoffed at his insult, "And when you told her it served her right? You were so smug!" Your voice was rising. He ran a hand through his hair and bit out another laugh as he retorted.
"And if I was? Like you're not the queen of being smug in this department. 'Oh, my robot's better, Anakin. I got an A, Anakin.'" He raised his voice high, mocking you. His eyes were wild, furious.
"Me? Smug? Look in the mirror, asshole! Pretend all you want, but I know who you are. You can pretend to be oh-so-nice to everyone else, but I see you for what you really are. Just. A. Fucking. Asshole." You emphasized each word with a jab of your finger, getting closer to him each time. The tension between you was turning somehow--were you losing the argument? You couldn't tell.
"Oh yeah? You don't know a single thing about me," he gritted out, right up in your face, jaw flexing. His intense eyes bored into yours, flicking back and forth, and then they dropped down to glance at your lips.
You weren't sure which one of you moved first, but all you felt was his lips against yours and your hands fisting in his hair, which it turned out was as perfectly soft as you had imagined. Bastard. Anakin's kisses were hot, insistent against your mouth as you sloppily made out in the middle of the lab. His arms, warm and firm, circled your waist and pulled you to him while you tilted your heads this way and that to get closer. Your tongue swiped his lower lip, and he treated you to a surprised, low moan that you wanted to hear again and again until your ears bled. He got your hint, though, and started teasing your lips with his tongue until you opened your mouth just enough to touch your tongue to his. His arms tightened and pulled you against him so that you could feel his warmth from chest to thigh. The two of you were frantic, like if you got close enough, deep enough in each others' mouths, you'd figure out why you were doing this and why it felt so goddamn good. Your heart was pounding when his hands slipped lower and grabbed you under your ass.
"Jump," he whispered huskily after he reluctantly separated his mouth from yours. You hopped, and he used the hands under your thighs to lift you up and sit you on the lab table. Dutifully, you wrapped your legs around his hips, interlocking your ankles around his unfairly attractive ass, and kept your hands buried in his hair. Anakin was back on your lips immediately. He was sloppy and excited until you shifted your hips against him, and then he became electric against you, even hungrier than before. You were definitely feeling something underneath your hips, a lump. It hit you that he was hard, and that sent a bolt of lightning between your legs. You'd stared a little bit more than you cared to admit that time he'd worn gray sweatpants, and what you'd seen was now pressed against you. You drew in a shaky breath at that idea, and you realized that God, he smelled like metal from his soldering earlier and, underneath that, sandalwood and vanilla.
Sometime around the time his hips tilted forward into yours, a beep echoed through the empty lab. You both jumped apart, leaving you sitting on the table, and the noise continued. Beep beep beep. The insistent noise came from one of the 3D printers in the corner. Anakin's print was done.
The silence of the lab felt deafening as you both panted. What had you done? Making out with your enemy was completely against lab safety guidelines, for one, and your morals, for another. Your heart was still pounding in your chest, despite your misgivings, but you willed those wisps of excitement deep down into some mental box. This couldn't happen. If there was a single person on this campus you couldn't fuck, it was Anakin. Not only was he rude, but if you got too close, how would you navigate it when only one of you won? Most importantly, though, you had hated him for four years. And for good reason. (Though you couldn't remember exactly what it was, or think critically at all, in that moment.)
"We shouldn't do that again, Anakin." Your voice was small in the empty space. For a second, his face fell, but he pressed his lips into a thin line to disguise it.
"Definitely not. I--Sorry." And that was that.
You walked home in complete silence, stealing glances at one another in the dark night. When you got to the door of your dorm, you opened your mouth to say something, but then closed it. Better not. So why, once you separated, did you feel so sad? Why did you want to see him again, to feel that silky hair under your fingers in your bed? You laid awake until the early hours of the night, and told yourself that your fingers slipping inside the waistband of your pajamas wasn't about Anakin, you just hadn't gotten some in way too long. It wasn't about Anakin. Even though it was his mouth and chest and arms you thought about when you came on your fingers, it wasn't about him.
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