inbox always open for brainrotting, venting and general asks. minors and blank / ageless blogs will be blocked. this blog is nsfw and has dead dove content, your content consumption is your responsibility.
f!reader. suggestive moments but no smut, fluff if you squint, angstish, childhood best friends to strangers to lovers? idk i just love him. veronica ( a character i made up) is used to replace alyssa bc she's a weirdo lol. lotta emotions, pals. 3.8k ᝰ masterlist
you'd known you wanted to try weed for a while now, it was just a bit intimidating. there's also the fact that you're 18 and you still haven't tried it, some might call you a pussy, but you just like to be precautionary.
there was the anti-drug commericals and your father breathing down your neck about being a functioning member of society. the pressure has become too much. you can't help but remember some of the stoner movies you've seen and they seemed so carefree.
so you started to concote the perfect plan, you'd never gotten in trouble, never even tardy for school. when your parents monthly business trip comes up, you knew exactly what you had to do.
invite sam monroe over for the first time in four years, and ask him to teach you how to get high.
so you think about your childhood best friend turned stranger, sam monroe. he wasn't the nicest, especially after his parents’ divorce. but there was also the fact that he had a soft spot just for you. and supposedly everyone knew, you hadn't witnessed this soft spot in a long time, so you hoped it made him a little nicer. you can't even recall why, maybe a kid crush or something. maybe you never knew at all.
you cleaned your room, made it all nice and hid some of your stuffed animals. if you were to invite sam over, you couldn't look like even more innocent than you already did.
on that fateful friday afternoon, you kissed your parents and bid them farewell. the pair completely oblivious to what their perfect little girl would be up to. a somewhat devious smile played on your lips.
you had harboured some kind of school girl crush on sam, since the two of you grew distant. he was mysterious and quiet now, you wish you knew him. wish you never would have let him slip out of your hands.
maybe that can change, maybe you can sew up the tattered thread of a connection. you wanted to laugh at yourself, you're so worked up about sam fucking monroe. the boy that you used to play in the mud with, but then again you're not just little kids anymore. things were definitely complicated. maybe more than you realized.
you couldn't help but start to pace around your room a bit, what if he said no? what if he just refused to come over? maybe you should cook something enticing, give him a extra reason? you had the weed and rolling papers already, courtesy of josh. you hated talking to him, but he had what you needed.
you walked over to the home phone hanging on the wall, and then to the clock on the stove. 6:30 p.m. the green digits stared back at you. this was a once in a lifetime chance so you swallowed your anxiety and picked up the receiver.
you dialed sam’s mom’s number, having it memorized like it was your own mother's. there was always some part of sam in your head, always stuck with you like a lover slain.
you waited patiently for someone to answer the phone, your heart beating louder than your ears could stand. you were sure this was the dumbest you'd ever felt.
“hello, kimball residence, who am i speaking with?” robin kimball, sam's mother, sounded tired. the kind of exhaustion you onlly get when you hate your life.
“hi robin! it's y/n! i was wondering if you could, uh, get sam for me?” your voice was shaky, but you hoped that she wouldn't pay it too much mind. or that she didn't notice it all.
“oh y/n! it's so nice to speak with you, how have you been?” her voice perked up once she realized who you were. always having been like a second mom to you, during your friendship with sam, guess the whole family has a soft spot for you.
“oh, I'm okay! i was just thinking of sam, and wanted him to come hang out, maybe have a sleepover like we used to!” you tried not to sound so childish, but perhaps it was working in your favor. excitement bleed into your tone, maybe hope too.
robin sighed a little, a mix of sadness and apprehension, “i can try to get him on the phone, but I can't make any promises.”
that confused you. but considering how sam acted at school, you couldn't imagine he was any easier at home.
“what do you want?” his voice felt like venom and ice, but you tried to ignore it.
“i, uh, i have some, uh, i have some w-” your stuttering didn't get you very far, sam was a very impatient boy.
“would you just spit it out,” he sounded less mad, and more just irritated. you imagined he probably dragged a hand down his face.
“sorry, I'm sorry. i just have some weed and wanted u to come over. you don't have to, I don't wanna bother you. bye, sam.” you rambled this out as fast as you possibly could and hung up just as quick.
your nerves and his mean tone became just a little too much, you'd never heard him talk to you like that. you didn't know him anymore. that hurt your heart, much more than you would like to admit. it was a fact, had been for quite some time but something about witnessing it with your own ears. it was real now.
sam stomped up the stairs to his room, closing and locking the door with a slam. he ran his hands through his hair, tugging on the black and blue strands.
“who the fuck does she think she is?” his voice was mingled with various emotions, he couldn't figure them out nor did he really want to.
“doesn't talk to me for four fucking years and then one day just calls me up and asks to hangout?” he's trying to keep his voice to a low mumble. as to not bother his younger siblings, even if he couldn't really stand them.
“tells my mom she wants a sleepover?” he almost wanted to go over there just to give her a piece of his mind. he kicked a box on the floor, and it shot across the room against a wall. he heard peter stomping down the hallway to yell at him, and slipped out of his window. a common practice these days.
he was dressed in cargo pants, his boots and a sweatshirt with the rolling stones logo printed in black and white. he was cursing under his breath, as he made the walk.
he couldn't believe her audacity, but then why would she call him unless he was the only one she could call. that had to be bullshit, she had plenty of friends. ten times more than what sam had.
he kicked a rock and lit a cigarette as he continued down the street, he hated that he could still remember the fastest way to her house. her perfect little house, with a perfect little family.
it was only just then that her words settled, like rain through a fog. i just have some weed and wanted u to come over. you don't have to. why would she have weed, unless her perfect little life wasn't so. course, could have been a lie to get him here. could be a prank, but she was never one to be nasty like that. or at least he hoped she wouldn't steep so low.
he had about a million questions that are going through his head, but the one that stuck out the most, why me? why would she call me out of everyone? it's not like sam was the only stoner in their school, but she still wanted him to come over. it made him puff on the cigarette a little faster.
sam stopped in the middle of the street for a moment, staring at the moon and sun that were now able to be seen at the same time. there was some poetry in this but he didn't want to fucking hear it.
he tried to shake his head of all these thoughts as he walked up the stairs to her front door. at the very bottom, you can still see paint marks of her and his handprints from when they moved in. sam was the first friend she made, he remembers her telling him, they'd be friends forever. feels like a cruel joke now.
you sat on your bed looking anxiously at the baggie that stood out on your bedside table. the nightstand a white wood with a pink lamp, and covered in literature. the weed looked weird and out of place next to them.
the slam of the front door and stomps crawling up the stairs brought you out of thoughts, sam standing in your doorway. he leaned against the wood, just looking at you. he looked pissed, but you were unsure if that was just his neutral expression at this point.
“you called.” he barely uttered two words to you, but you couldn't help the growing smile that stretched your lips.
“i wasn't sure if you'd actually show up!” you wished you didn't sound so happy, it was weakness he was bound to attack. you hoped your best friend, sammy was still in there, somewhere.
“what can i say? free weed, can't let that kind of offer go.” he chuckled as he spoke, and it was almost like you knew him again. but you didn't, he was a stranger in your bedroom, while your parents were hours away at this point.
he almost wanted to break something, he had so many questions, so much to say but now that he was in front of her, he wanted nothing more than to push it all aside. this wasn't like this normally, usually anger was so easy to hold onto. this time, it was like he never had any to begin with.
he slowly wandered into the room, looking over everything you had displayed. you prayed he didn't open the closet and get assualted by plushies. the thought almost made you want to giggle.
he was stuck, stuck holding a picture in his hand. he hadn't seen the polaroid in four years. a cheesing sam stared back at him, so free and fun. your arms were tight around him, couldn't be older than six and you were smiling just as big.
as you came to stand next to him, you looked at the picture in his hand. you were being torn between crying and laughing. it's such a cute picture, one that you thought you'd show your kids one day. but those thoughts were one of a silly little girl who believed that sam would always be by your side. you felt stupid, mad and sad all at once.
“i remember this day,” sam's voice sounds faraway, like he is scared to talk at all. like the picture and you would disappear, and he'd wake up from another dream.
“it was the day our dad's built your pool, and we played all day long.” he finished, looking from the photo to you. it was the first time he's really looked at you. his blue eyes peering into yours, you felt naked under his stare.
“yeah, and we had ice cream and it got everywhere,” you chuckled sadly, this felt like a reunion with a lover rather than a friend. you looked away back to the picture in his hand, taking it you put it back on your mirror. as he watched your hands, he noticed it wasn't the only picture of the two of you. you kept every single one, always one to cherish every memory, even if it hurts more than it helps.
“why do you still have them?” his voice is barely above a whisper like he's scared to hear the answer.
“i always hoped you'd come back, that we'd go back to old times. feels kinda stupid to say out loud” you laughed, bringing your arms around yourself trying to bring yourself some comfort.
you're looking at all the pictures, too scared to see what expression is resting on sam's face now.
“well, I'm here, aren't I?” you finally turned to look at him, your eyebrows creased in worry or concern. you weren't sure. his hand comes to rest on your shoulder, it's awkward and comforting all the same.
“would you have ever came if I didn't call? if i didn't have weed?” your voice might break if it shakes anymore, your tongue sucks over your teeth in anxiety.
“wait, don't answer that. i don't want the answer. i don't think you miss me the way i miss you.” you interrupted him. the second half of your words came out mumbled as you walk away from him and sit on the bed. a tear slid down your face, and it makes a bitter laugh come out of you. you've never wanted someone so close and so fucking faraway from you. you wioed it away and hoped he didn't see it. weakness was not an option.
“you don't get to do this,” his voice is quiet, but you were sure that it wouldn't stay that way.
“you don't get to cry and put words in my mouth, you have no fucking idea how i feel.” he raised his voice a bit and you just rolled your eyes at him. he came to sit opposite to you on the bed.
“yeah, you're right. but you also never fucking talked to me. you were my best friend one day and then avoiding me the next. how the fuck do you think that's gonna make me feel? hell, how the fuck can you just do that to someone.” you were yelling too now, staring at him with so much anger. you weren't even really that mad, you were just hurt.
“that is not what fucking happened. you became friends with josh, that's what happened,” his eyes narrowed at you and you wanted, well you don't know what you want but this is definitely something that needed to happen. josh had been a bully in middle school, i guess much hasn't changed.
“excuse the fuck out of me? i did no such thing, i was friends with veronica. i was friends with her, and then you left. and i know, yes, i know that you fucked vee. you left me, and that wasn't enough.” you were seething at this point, barely able to remember why you even missed him in the first place. you got off the bed, not even being able to look at him.
“i did not fuck veronica. who told you that? let me guess, veronica?” your head whipped in his direction, you stopped in your tracks.
your cheeks warmed as you realized you may have been fed incorrect information, “you didn't? but she and josh both told me on seperate instances.” you felt stupid, you came to sit on the bed again. a sheepish look on your face.
“no, i didn't fuck veronica. are you stupid?” the anger in the room begin to fizzle out, and you smacked his shoulder, “don't say that, I'm not stupid.” you gave him a fake angry look and looked at your feet.
you'd been lied to for four years, four years where sam didn't have be alienated. four years where your best friend could be beside you.
“why’d you stop coming around, then? if it wasn't cause of that? ” the fear of rejection injected to your veins. your lip was tightly pulled between your teeth, an anxious habit. your eyes looked from him to your hands as you waited for him to answer.
“somebody told me you hated me and didn't want me around anymore.” his voice was distant like he couldn't believe his own words. “told me you were just friends with me out of pity.”
“now you're the stupid one.” you laughed dryly, trying to make light of the situation. you bumped your shoulder into his.
“hell, i might be. i doubt if you hated me you'd keep all those cheesy momentos.” he chuckled and you could have savored the feeling that went through your chest. he might be better than any high that weed could give you. if you didn't have a bit of love for him before, you definitely do now.
you felt like a tornado of emotions, you didn't know what was to happen now.
some time passed in silence, you both unsure of what was to happen next. years of pushed down feelings that no longer have a sense of direction.
anxiety creeped up your back, looking at sam he's just looking at you. a slight smile on his lips, it's a sight you could get used to.
“what?” you laughed a bit out of embarrassment.
“you’re just pretty.” his voice was soft and you kinda wanted to throw up. how could all this happen and he can just have the audacity to compliment you. you dropped eye contact but a similar smile could now been seen on your face.
“so, we're good now?” you spoke, eyes glued to the floor. you didn't think you could keep from kissing him, if he kept looking at you like that.
“we’re so good. you ready to smoke?” sam smiled some, and layed back on the bed. his arms falling above his head, he stared at the ceiling. life is just some game, and he's pretty sure he just won big. he felt somewhere between being on cloud nine and being the dumbest motherfucker he's ever met. he can't believe he believed josh about some stupid rumor, instead of just coming to you.
“so, actually the thing about that, i don't know how. i called you so you could teach me because i trust you.” warmth gathered on your cheeks again.
he leans up on one arm to look at you, and he smiles real big, teeth and all. his tongue crossing his lips as he laughs a bit. it was clear though, he wasn't laughing at you, just laughing at the situation. but still you must tease him, make up for lost time.
“sammy, don't laugh at me.” before you could stop yourself, the nicknames spilled out of your lips. a nickname sam hadn't heard in some time and it made his heart skip a beat.
“babe, it's not my fault, you make it so easy.” there he was again, undressing you with his eyes. whether it be intentional or not, you weren't sure. his cheeks glowed a little pink and you couldn't help but giggle. it's fair game at this point. you never knew sam as someone to use alot of pet names, is he trying to pick you up?
“yeah, well, you're blushing, dork.” it was a dumb retort, and on top of it all you stuck out your tongue at him. crossing your arms like the brat that you are. it seemed your question answered itself. you were somewhere between friends and lovers, and that scared the shit out of you.
“no I'm not.” he said incredulously, like it was something that was physically impossible. he quick to get off the bed, pushing at his cheeks in the mirror.
you're happy to skip up beside him, “yeah, you are, it's like you have a crush on me or something." you giggled. another thing that should have been left unsaid, spoken by you again. it was necessary, you had to know the truth. it felt like life or death, at this moment.
he stands up beside you, and it's only then that you notice he's got at least half a foot on you. it feels intimidating when he smirks at you.
“what if i do? maybe i like to make cute girls squirm,” his hands come to rest on your hips, and you were sure you were gonna faint, have a heart attack, or maybe die.
“sam, what are you doing.” it wasn't a question, cause you didn't want the answer.
“i'm touching you, is that okay?” you can't help but dumbly nod. he leaning towards you and you let him. his lips are soft against yours, and he pulls you closer. his smell and taste was intoxicating. you were sure if you were dead, this would be what heaven felt like.
your hands come to rest on his chest, letting him kiss you a bit longer before pushing him away.
“i-i think we should smoke, yeah, i think we should do that.” you weren't even sure what you were saying at this point. but you didn't want to just get him back and immediately jump into bed. you're not ready for that yet.
“whatever you want, doll.” he presses one soft, chaste kiss to your forehead and walks towards the weed and the rolling papers. you were almoat confused as you followed him back to the bed, who is this man? you wanted to kick your feet and acream into your pillow.
you watch as his skilled, ring-clad fingers pushed the weed into the white papers. you thought you might have a health issue when his tongue dipped over his lips to wet the paper. your reaction doesn't go unnoticed by him, so he just chuckles and finishes sealing the joint.
“now, what you're gonna do, and I'll demonstrate too. put the paper between your lips,” he explained everything in excruciating detail, and it made your legs clamp together a little. you needed more self control, maybe, but you weren't going to let all this get to you. not this fast, it wasn't fair.
setting the paper between his lips, he pulled a lighter out of his pocket, it was white all the plastic wrap has been picked off of it.
“when you hit it, take small puffs, breathe in and then exhale, like this okay?” he making eye contact with you as he does so.
he hands you the joint and you hope it helps you recollect yourself. you do exactly as he said and did, and somehow still end up coughing up a lung. irritated eyes making contact with his playful ocean ones.
“try again, it'll get easier, you're just a baby stoner.” he rubbed your back a little, and you tried again. this time it went down smoothly and you could feel something as soon as you exhaled. you hand him the joint and watch his expert smoking habits.
you never knew how hot someone smoking could be, but here he was. sam, your sam, looked like some bad boy in a teen cliche film. you never knew why girls would go for guys like this, but now you got it.
the two of you spent the rest of the night recalling stories, watching comfort films and laying in his arms. he held you tight, and smoked you out until you were nothing but a giggly, high mess. he got decently stoned himself and you feel asleep like that.
it is so so cool how the first ever mention of padme comes at the tail end of rotj, just a half-memory from leia (“beautiful, kind…but sad”) that luke desperately clings to. and then the first ever onscreen appearance of padme comes from a screen-within-a-screen as she threatens the trade federation (“its queen amidala herself!”) in queen regalia so elaborate it masks her identity. we see padme through the eyes and faded memories of others before we get to know her as a human being. she barely steps out of that imperial queen persona for the whole of tpm, and then by the time we do get to see who padme really is and what she’s like with the queen mask off (aotc, rots), we find out she is, in fact, the sum of both her kids. she is endlessly forgiving and very smart and she burns for justice but is forever marked by war. she is her son, she is her daughter. you have this urge to see more of padme throughout the films, then by the time she’s telling vader she sees the good in him, you realize you’ve known her all along:) and luke’s response of “i have no memory of my mother, i never knew her” hits a million times harder, because he didn’t need to know her to carry out her legacy. it’s loose and a bit clunky but this is the magic to star wars releasing in backwards order, you get to find out padme never died!
i need sam to come through my window at 2 am and fuck me up
“shut the fuck up or your parents will hear.” sam whispered into your ear while his cock was deep inside your needy cunt. your boyfriend had recently been grounded because his stepdad found him doing drugs in the basement with his friends. and since he was grounded, one of his punishments was not allowed to see you. he didn't care what his stepdad had to say, though. he couldn't tell sam what to do. but he stayed home for a few nights to not piss him off even more. those few nights, he fucked his hand with a pair of your dirty panties to keep him from sneaking out and going over to your house. but he failed this time. he snuck into your room through your window and was quick to attach his lips to yours and push you against your bed. first, he ate you out.. but not for your pleasure. for his.
the headboard slightly banged against your wall with the bed slightly squeaking. “fuck, I missed you so bad.” he mutters, watching your tits bounce. “missed you so God,” thrust “damn,” thrust “bad.” he whimpers. your moaning started to get on his nerves. not cause he didn't like hearing your noises, but because he knew if you two got caught, he'd probably get his ass kicked by your, his step, and biological dad. so to shut you up, he flipped you on your stomach and started hitting it from the back, placing his hand in the middle of your back to keep that pretty arch of yours. “you gonna make me cum? that pussy wanna cream my dick?” he gives a cocky smirk and kneeds your ass with his other hand. “yes, sam. yesyesyes. fuck me like that. wanna make you cum in me, baby, please.” you moan into your pillow quietly and grind yourself onto his cock. “yeah, I know you do.” he pulls your hair back, letting you do all the work. “fuck. you gonna let me put a baby in you? fucking slut.”
all that talk helped you release all over him, and just a few seconds later, so did he.
<DADDYS HOMEEE did ygs like this or did it suck ass 😢>
i know hayden is a sweetheart now, but how do you think he was in his 20's? still sweet and respectful? nasty kissing in the back of a nightclub?
MINORS DNI 18+
NOTES: going based off of what hayden has said irl, calling himself a homebody and “out of respect for his family” he avoids scandal. so i don’t think he was into the club scene (but i could be wrong, im not sure where he’s been irl) but i like to imagine he had a bit of a wild side phase he’s real secretive about | i can imagine him still being a sweetheart. humble, uncomfortable in the public eye, respectful. but i’m sure if you asked him to be disrespectful towards you in order to get off, i doubt he’d deny you.
“What about degradation?” you ask, fidgeting with a string that hangs off your sleeve. It’s a cautious question, seeking to gauge his reaction before you go in too deep.
HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN gives you a quizzical look from where he stands while you sit on the counter; a flash of his brows furrow as he smacks his gum. You note the clench in his jaw as he swallows, his larynx bobbing hypnotically with the action. “What like… calling you a slut n’ shit?”
You nip your lower lip, and nod, affirming him. “Yeah.” There’s a melodic dip in your voice as you fiddle with the string, focusing your gaze on it as you navigate the conversation. Your eyes flicker back up to him when you find the words. “But there are other things too.”
His chewing slows, intrigued. Gently, he approaches you, and his hands find your thighs to rest there. “Oh, so you’re saying you wanna try it out. You want me to talk shit in your ear?” He leads your thighs to part, slotting his hips in between. Even though you’re sitting up on this counter, he still towers over you.
A blush creeps up to your cheeks, having been unable to tear your gaze away from him until now, breaking the eye contact in an attempt to calm yourself down. Heat builds in your chest, biting hard on your lower lip to stifle your bashful grin. He knows he’s got you.
With your head pivoted, he takes advantage, inclining further into your space until his lips brush your ear. “You know what a fuckin’ freak you are for this?” he questions, and you brace your hands on his shoulders. “Wanting me to call you names, get you off telling you you’re disgusting for liking it.“
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.
SYNOPSIS. sam makes you try a different version of your favorite candy; bigger and bitter.
WARNINGS. NSFW themes (18+), pet-names, cursing, dirty-talk & too many puns (i swear this punk cannot shut up), name-calling (brat, dumb girl), brat-taming, degradation, slight dacryphilia, perv!sam, clueless!reader, oral sex (m! receiving), face-fucking, bondage, slight slapping (with a belt, with his cock), hair-pulling, sexualising food?
SMACK, SLURP, POP. the sounds filled sam’s humid room. his brow furrowed further, a look of disdain washing over his pale features at the noise. the videogame in front of him needed all his heed, but it seemed like his brat, bambi, demanded some of that attention, too.
“stop that,” he groaned, frustrated. the sound of his thumbs assaulting the buttons on his controller should’ve been all that was heard, had you not been deep-throating the candy sam made the mistake of getting you. “what— i’m just having my candy,” you whined before continuing, “—and besides, if you have a problem, why don’t you let me sit away from you—” he was quick to shut down that idea, gripping the flesh of your thighs. maybe sam was in the wrong for getting you the cherry ring-pop, your favourite, and maybe it wasn’t the best idea to have you perched on his lap, sitting comfortably (cluelessly) on his aching boner, but in his defence, he just wanted to feast his eyes on the sight of your plump lips wrapped around the toy candy, sucking and slurping, just as you are now like the good girl you are, but once he switched his playstation on, the competitive side came out.
you shift to your comfort in his lap, feeling the tent in his pants poke directly into your mound. you had an arm crossed over sam’s neck, bringing the ring-clad finger to your mouth and sucking. at the taste of the sweet cherry juices dripping into your mouth, you groan in sam’s ear.
the sounds traveled straight to his cock, his mind tuning out his reality— the game at hand— just to focus at your skilful tongue, stained red by the candy. “if you don’t quit it—” he sighed, his voice strained. the next thing you know, his character is being obliterated by the enemy. you stifled a giggle, your plan worked.
sam had left you so, so worked up. choosing to take out his frustration with his family on some stupid toy, rather than your willing pussy. ever since that day at the playground, you couldn’t go a day without sam pounding into your drooling cunt. even if it was always him starting it, he got you to finish, and you were forever grateful for it. but today? when you dolled up in all black— tank top and skirt— with red lingerie, he decided to pick up that gaming console and not let go.
“alright, bambi, i’ve had it with you,” he gets up abruptly, causing you to hit the ground and land on your knees. you gasped, offended.
his hands, full of real, crude metal were quick to move, undoing his belt, unlike your delicate hand that was motionless with the toy ring perched on it. the leather of his studded belt flicked across your cheek, causing you to look up at sam through wet lashes. he only smirked at the sight. your eyes flicked to the bulge revealed in his boxers, and now your mouth watered for a taste that wasn’t cherry ring-pop.
“‘like to suck your candy, huh, brat?” he squeezed your cheeks together. “since you’ve been practising in my goddamn ears all day,” he continued, pulling out his cock, “let’s see how good you’ve gotten.” his cock was slapped against the same spot at the belt. you only stared at him through your long lashes, unwilling to satiate when you’re unsatisfied yourself. “come on, bambi, open up,” he squeezed your cheeks again, causing your mouth to gape open. “i can’t guarantee it tastes like cherries, but you’re open to trying sweet-n-salty, aren’tcha?” he giggled, amused at his own snarky comments.
the fat tip of his cock pressed into your plump, gape lips, and instinctively, your tongue stuck out to lick it. “there we go,” sam sighed, ready to return to cloud 9.
you sheepishly swirled your tongue around the bulbous tip of his cock, relishing in the taste of his precum oozing into your tastebuds. oh, yeah, you’ve found yourself a new favourite flavour.
“hands up for me, bambi,” he sighed, breathless already. you oblige, eyes widening when his belt snaked over your wrists, tying them in an unholy matrimony. your hands rested in your lap, preventing you from pleasuring yourself like you intended to. “now, open wide f’me.” you’re obedient, eager to please, for you know if sam’s satisfied he would overlook the ‘punishment’ and stick his cock into you. your pussy flutters at the thought of being full again.
as your throat relaxed around him, you started taking more and more of his length, looking up at him through your lashes to seek his validation, and the mere sight was rewarding. his brows furrowed, a pink flush crept into his pale skin, while his lips were plump and agape, marks of his teeth etched into the skin. “your mouth was made to suck cock, y’know that— my cock. you’re only gonna squeeze my cock with that fuckin’ throat, y’hear?” he nods, authoritative yet cooing, “is my girl understanding me?” so you bobble your head along with length. “fuck yeah, brat. going dumb on my cock,” he moans, and you were eager to illicit more of those sounds.
you relax your jaw, inhale deeply, and let him take charge. when sam realises this, the little devil smirks, running his fingers through your scalp to tug at your hair.
his cock pistons in and out of your throat, your eyes watering and your breath haggard. your pussy clenched around nothing but the flooded dampness of your cotton panties.
“oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fu—” incoherent grunts and groans filled the room along with the delirious smell of your arousals. “fuuuuck, bambi,” sam’s thrusts got sloppier.
“you know,” he spoke, breathless yet mischievously, “this candy comes with a creamy centre,” he chuckled, grunting as he came undone in your mouth. “sweet n’ salty, yeah?” he stroked his cock, relishing in the sight of his heavy load dripping down your plump lips. you were quick to swallow every drop, selfishly devouring your favourite candy. you wondered if this was gluttony or lust?
when satiated, sam pulled away, tucking his cock away. you, too, get up from the floor, wincing at the pain of kneeling down for too long.
you shimmy out of your clothes, making your way towards his bed. sam sees you in the corner of his eye, an eyebrow irking at your actions, “what do you think you’re doing,” he asked plainly, leaving you confused. “i- you’re fucking me, right?” you had a pitiful look on your face, so eager to chase your own release with his assistance. “like hell i will, dumb girl,” sam scoffed, “brats don’t get pleasure after punishment,” he shrugged coldly, grabbing his gaming console.
he pointed towards his thighs, “sit your ass back down,” you whine, “but i’ll be so boooored,” yet perch on his lap, still.
“—and i finished my ring-pop,” you sigh in frustration. sam chuckles, “don’t worry, i’ll have your new favourite out in a minute,”
“this flavour never finishes, just keeps on coming.”
THIS PUNK—
SEE ALSO. playground [PRELIMINARY FIC]. more of Sam Monroe [MEAN!SAM, BIMBO!READER AND OTHER TROPES].
TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read for your own safety and comfort. Kinda violence, ani is a criminal, italian phrases/words (i do learn this language but if there's any mistake, im so sorry), mentions of drugs and gambling, ani with troublematic childhood, ITS VERY LONG!!
Mafia!Anakin who didn't know happiness until he met you. Yes, he had money, he had luxurious life but when you appeared in his life, you filled an empty hole in his heart
Mafia!Anakin who spoils you like crazy. You want something, you'll get it the same day, unless your behavior is out of place
Mafia!Anakin who keeps you away from most of his business for your own safety. He'd not forgive himself if something would happen to you because of him/his job
Mafia!Anakin who taught you how to use a gun so you could protect yourself when he's not around;
"No, again," his voice cut through your thoughts, firm and authoritative. Normally, Anakin was carefree in your presence, but teaching you how to use a gun was a different matter – he took it very seriously.
"What's wrong now?" you retorted, rolling your eyes in annoyance. You had been doing this for hours, with nothing but mistakes and failures, and your patience was wearing thin.
"Your grip...again," he said firmly, stepping closer behind you. He reached out to adjust your grip, his hands guiding yours. "You need a firmer grip, angel."
"I already have a firm grip," you retorted stubbornly.
He couldn't help but let out a small chuckle "Not as firm as it should be," he gently corrected "it's not a puppy you're holding in your hand, dolcezza." His hand wrapped around yours, adjusting your fingers and gripping them even tighter, forcing you to hold the gun properly. "This is what a firm grip looks like."
He pulled away, fixing his gaze on you again, searching for any mistakes. You tried your best to keep still, clutching the damn thing in your shaking hands. Generally, you didn't like such objects, but with Anakin, it was slightly easier. You knew he was doing this out of concern for your well-being.
"Your feet are too close together." He observed, moving in closer. "Having such a small base gives you less balance, which you don't want. You need a steady position in situations like these, angel. Otherwise, things can go very wrong."
He gently pushed his knee between your legs, widening your stance. You involuntarily stirred a little at his action, but he continued "You need to be sturdy, firm. But at the same time, flexible"
"You don't stand like that when you use a gun," you pointed out
he chuckled again, his breath warm against the back of your neck. "That's because I've been holding one ever since I was a kid, angel. You're just learning, sweetheart. You need to learn the proper stance first. We'll get to my type of stance when you have the basics nailed down."
He gently adjusted your stance, his hands steady on your hips. "Keep your feet hip-width apart, and relax your shoulders. It's all about balance and control."
Mafia!Anakin who's obviously possessive over his treasure, his pretty angel. If any man dared to look at you in a way that made you uncomfortable or made anakin question the man's behavior, anakin would make sure he would never look at you again
Mafia!Anakin who takes you to casinos which are filled with rich guys and lavishly dressed women. The place where crimes begin. He'd most of the time let you sit on his lap while he plays gambling, asking for your favorite number for his own luck
Mafia!Anakin who makes sure everyone knows that you're his and only his. Multiple marks on your neck from his lips, his hand on your waist and much more was just basics to publicly claim you
Mafia!Anakin who speaks to you in change between Italian and english, often calling you tesoro, dolcezza but also angel, baby, sweetheart
Mafia! Anakin who finds you and his close friends that he works with as his only family
Mafia!Anakin who shows you the world; takes you to different places in other countries for vacation
Mafia!Anakin who's absolutely in love with your reactions to his gifts for you; your wide smile, your sparkling with excitement eyes, your endless 'thank you' between your kisses
Mafia!Anakin who keeps you away from any drugs his friends bring since he wants to keep you away from such things
Mafia!Anakin who would throw himself on train for you. Who would take a bullet for you if he'd have to, if it meant to keep you safe and happy. Who would do anything you want. Even deprive someone of their life, since he did much worse things
Mafia!Anakin who has a habit of using new things on your delicate body;
you both laid in his king-sized bed as he worshipped your body with his plush, pink lips, gently pressing kisses against your stomach. Between his slim fingers he held the tweezers to occasionally add more radiant diamonds inside your belly button
"I love using them on you. You're just so hot," he murmured against your skin
"So irresistible," he continued with a huskier tone "Such a pretty girl..so beautiful..so gorgeous."
He moved his lips to yours, gently brushing them against each other "You would never leave me, would you?"
You shook your head defiantly, locking your gaze with his blue eyes that you could so easily drown in
"Good girl"
Mafia!Anakin who would never dare himself to treat you like he treats others. You're his favorite girl, his pretty angel and he'd be damned if he even dared himself to adress to you with such coldness or disrespect
Mafia!Anakin who loves the sound of your voice. You could just talk about nonsense, or about the book you've been reading and he'd be completely mesmerized by the sweet, gentle sound of it
Mafia!Anakin who finds you as his only source of comfort. After a rough day all he'll do is clinging to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, savouring your scent. In your presence he could easily calm down, easily forget about the earlier events, at least for some time.
Mafia!Anakin who has a heart of ice but for you he'd burn the world
Mafia!Anakin who killed a man with the nearest object he could find (a book) just because he dared himself to touch you
Mafia!Anakin who hates to argue with you but when it happens, it always ends in the bed with rough love making
Mafia!Anakin who made love to you in every room, every small or bigger place in your shared penthouse
Mafia!Anakin who sometimes, if you're okay with it or insist yourself, takes out his frustration and indignation on you in bed;
"they're just so stupid" he growled in anger and annoyance, letting it all pour on his rough thrust "They can't do one thing correctly.. I swear to god if they mess up another goddamn thing, I'm going to kill them all. Every. Single. One of them"
"they're so useless. So pathetic." he leaned to kiss your neck "They can't do anything right, can't follow a single simple order to save their lives"
Each thrust in and out seemed to go even deeper, hitting this sweet spot that made you see those delightful stars as moans slipped through your mouth. Your eyes kept fighting to stay open, to see this desperate, awfully beautiful expression on his face. This sweaty curls, all messy and getting to his sharp blue eyes, this clenched jaw, his muscles that ripped and were, especially now, looking more defined and flexible than earlier. Gosh, the sight was enough to bring you over the edge
His eyes turned more soft, his own thrusts becoming more gentle. He was proud of himself, making a complete mess out of you and every time he loved to see you like this. All breathless and with marks all over your skin
"But at least I have you to help me release all this pent up anger.. you're so good at it, tesoro. So good for me...Only you can undo me, angioletto" he whispered, his breath growing ragged with each movement of his hips. "Only you can save me from my anger"
Mafia! Anakin who is a switch; yes, he can be a dominant one but he can easily turn into a submissive boy from only you being on top of him;
"Ani..it's so big.." you mewl, trying to adjust to his size in a new position
your words made him let out a low, pleased moan. He couldn't leave his pretty girl all helpless now, could he? His hands roamed towards your hips to help you move on his lenght "You flatter me, principessa" he groaned "Feels too big for you, does it? Too much?"
As much as his words could be true, you didn't want to admit it. You didn't want to stop it "mh--no..just.. perfect" with his help you lifred and slammed down on his cock
Your actions caused him to throw his head back and dig his long fingers to your soft flesh
"you feel so good..." he mumbled. Seeing you accustom to his size, he moved his hands through your body, feeling the need to squeeze, grope and touch every spot
"Dio, you're gonna be the death of me..." He whispered, driving himself deeper into you to feel more friction
Feeling his member pulsing against your walls only gave you another reason to tease him more, to bring him over the edge in the most pleasant way (for you)
"Oh gods..." he mumbled, his teeth gritted as he felt you increasing your movements "You're gonna...drive me... insane, c-cazzo.."
"you're gonna be a good boy and fill me up?" you moaned, watching his screaming in pleasure face
A shiver run down his body after he had heard your breathless words. There was something about seeing you turn from a sweet girl to a taking charge woman that absolutely turned him on more than he would like to admit
"Y-yeah.." he panted, his eyes opening to fix on her face, "I'll be a good boy for you, I'll fill you up... I'll do anything you say... anything to please you, bella"
Mafia!Anakin who goes absolutely crazy when you surprise him with new lingeries, costumes for cosplays; it all drove him insane
Mafia!Anakin who gives you the experience of three times in a row (making you finish for three times with oral sex);
his lips gently pressed against your neck, going up to whisper words in your ear "You tell me if you need to stop. You're so tired, I don't want to go too far and hurt you, ok?"
And you, all weary and sensitive after all what happened, could only nod in response. When his lips were going down your body, to your specific spot, your hand went down to grab at his curls, tugging on some strands around your fingers as he finally wrapped his lips around your clit-all with his eyes on yours
"You'll be walking with a limp tomorrow, mio piccolo coniglio" he mumbled between your flesh
Even if you were already tired, the shockwaves of pleasure went through your body, causing your moans to get louder
"Ani.." you whined breathlessly
The sound of his name leaving your lips made his entire body shudder. He loved the way you'd moan, whine and cry out his name. It was like a drug to him, and he craved it, craved the way you sounded and the way you tasted "Gods I love you" he breathed against your core
"the dearest god..." you moaned as his tongue lapped at your folds, making you arch your back
"You taste so good, sweetheart..can't take enough of you, never can.." he speeded his movements which was enough to make you scream
Mafia!Anakin who often talks to you about his traumatic childhood which obviously made a huge impact on his future
Mafia!Anakin who's basically a criminal; wouldn't hesitate to kill someone if that person was in his way
Mafia!Anakin who finds comforting in teaching you Italian. Just loves hearing you speak that language, even if you may suck at it
I've never really thanked you guys for being here, with me. For all your support, for all the lovely sweet comments. For reaching out to me in my inbox/dms..thank you for 301 followers! Really, love all of you with all my heart. Sending big hugs and kisses!
the aroma of james making hamburgers filled the backyard. the muscles of his arm stretched as he flipped the patties so they wouldn't burn. he had a baseball cap on to keep his hair from his face. he grinned widely as you brought him another beer.
he took a swig of the beer, and set it on the deck. he turned to pull you in his arms, either hands on each side of your waist. he swooped down to capture his lips in yours. they were warm, and you could feel the sweat on his upper lip. the sun was high and you could feel the beating rays through your dress.
“you look so pretty f’me princess,” jamie murmurs as he pressed kissed into your cheek, your jaw and then your neck.
“jamie, the burgers are gonna burn!” you giggled as you pressed your palms and the perfectly manicured fingers that he paid for against his shoulders.
“aw shit,” he groaned. he turned his attention back to the grill, and you let your arms crawl around his waist. interlocking your fingers and pressing your cheek against his back.
you hummed and swayed a little, and jamie let you and swayed with you. he was always so soft with you, gently like you're his little doll. it didn't take long for him to finish the food. and being his little girl he made your plate for you and brought you a wine cooler to eat with. he pressed a kiss to your forehead as he set your plate down in front of you.
