#anakin's younger sister

[incorrectstarwarsquotess]

Ahsoka: There’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly.

Anakin, from the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

[morgan-n-cheese-91]

old Obi-Wan is so funny to me because his sass and overall bitchiness is like the last thing he's got and I'm so proud it survived the great depression of his 40s.

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

More clone wars headcanons (it's just Ahsoka and Anakin)

No matter how only Ahsoka gets Anakin will always see her as that little 14 year old who strong-armed her way onto a battlefield 

Honestly he isn’t very aware of this but there are tiny moments when it becomes very clear 

There are moments when people ask how old his padawan is and he’ll go “Oh she’s” and he’ll take a moment for some mental calculations and say “she’s 18 kriff she’s 18” 

And he’ll kinda sit in silence with that fact for a couple of seconds 

There’s also moments when people will call him out for getting her age wrong 

Like he’ll go “Don’t bite off more than you can chew Soka you’re only 14 after all” 

Ahsoka will reminds him in two days she’s be turning 20 when Anakin argues that fact Obi-Wan reminds him that he’s 25 which would make her 20 in a couple of days Anakin just kinda stares at a wall 

Ahsoka tried to snap him out of it but Obi-Wan stopped her with a quite “let him grieve Ahsoka” 

No matter how old the two get they will always play pranks on each other if anything the intensity grows with them 

When Ahsoka when 14 she would save small handfuls of sand to put in Anakin’s shoes 

And he would have thought it was just left over from some mission if the sand didn’t keep appearing after he emptied it out 

That and he caught Ahsoka red-handed and chased her sneaky ass around the temple until they were both too tired to care 

When Ahsoka turned 20 she hid sand everywhere in his shoes and in his pockets, girl even got it in some of his mugs 

He knew it was her cause he knew her m.o but she won’t admit to it and she doesn’t stop to matter how much he begs 

The breaking point is when he finds his bed covered in sand which he deems going too far cause even tho Padme literally couldn’t care less 

He tracked her down and kept her in a headlock until she admitted defeat 

It wasn’t a chocking headlock mind you it’s just tight enough to keep her in place he just drags her around the whole base while he goes about his business 

Anakin’s prank was pretty simple he would slowly steal all her head wraps 

At first she didn’t notice anything she just thought Anakin stole one during training and put it somewhere 

But after a couple of days of not being able to find it she discovers another one went missing 

And the cycle continued like that for years 

It didn’t bother her but sometimes when she was going out with friends and couldn’t find her favorite ones you’d hear her scream “Ani where’s my leather head wrap?” 

And he’d act all innocent saying that he “has no idea what you’re talking about snips maybe you misplaced it again” 

And she’d groan and go look for a different one because she didn’t have enough time to interrogate him 

Anakin waits a couple of years to pull off his full prank which is convincing everyone he can to wear one of her head wraps and act like nothing is going on 

And he gets a good amount of people too including some of the clones and even the twins 

The only people who wholeheartedly reject being a part of the plan are Padme and Obi-Wan they discovered years ago that it isn’t wise to get involved in their prank war 

Honestly Ahsoka would have thought she lost her mind that day if she hadn’t found every single head wrap she lost hidden around her quarters 

It kind of becomes a running joke of how protective Anakin is of Ahsoka 

Some stories being blown out of proportion about how Skywalker single-handedly moved the ruble to grant her freedom form the tank 

Some say how he searched on the ground day and night when Ahsoka was captured by the hunters 

Criminals claim they barely made it out with their lives if they had Ahsoka in their custody 

They both find these stories hilarious but Obi-Wan and Padme know there is a lot of truth in those stories 

It doesn’t just stop with the enemy either this man has and will do intensive background checks on every single person Ahsoka meets 

And you best believe that potential love interests are kept under the closest watch possible 

Rex and his boys are happy to track down the person if they feel they’re acting a little sketchy 

Sometimes this ends with actual criminals being put away and sometimes this ends with Ahsoka scolding everyone who had anything to do with it 

Some people get 30+ apology letters and a promise that it will never happen again (most of those people can tell those letters were written with grit teeth and a little togruta standing close by)

Anakin does agree to tone down his protective streak and promises to never abuse his power like that again 

She didn’t make him stop giving the shovel talk to literally anyone within a three-mile radius of her (mostly cause she didn’t know he was doing it) so he considered that a win

I’m always reminded of how Anakin made it a game to count how many people their squads took out and I was wondering what other games they had 

How many times could they lie to the council without getting caught, how many times they crash a ship, and how many times they save each other's lives 

Like imagine Ahsoka tripping Anakin and before he can ask why the hell she did that a blast hits the floor and she just goes “That’s 40 for me” as she runs away 

Anakin yelled after her “yeah 40 to my 80 snips” 

Those numbers also serve as a reminder and reassurance that no matter how dangerous the situation gets they’ll never let that count stop

[bosooka]

Last Line Challenge

Tagged by the wonderful @nalase who is now going to get even more of my AniTine modern AU that I have spent all day yapping to them about...

Satine’s stomach was in knots. So many knots. She gulped down her water, trying to hide her blush in the glass, and sped back into the living room where Bo-Katan had flopped onto the couch to read. “Don’t worry,” Bo-Katan said, not looking up. “You’ll get used to it.” “I…I…I’m going upstairs,” Satine sputtered. She was overheating, but she had to clamp down on the urge to rip her tichel off her head until she was out of Anakin’s sight. “Let me know when he’s about to leave.” “Don’t worry,” Bo-Katan murmured. “I’ll make sure you get another good look at him as he goes.” “Wh—Bo-Katan!” She waved Satine off. “Lehitra’ot!”

tagging: @machinerismsx and whoever else wants to do this! you are officially tagged. <3

[maiiuelle]

can i be so cliche for a second and say anakin skywalker x kenobi!reader

[starrdream]

Anakin Skywalker x Padme's sister!reader summary: Anakin can't seem to control himself around Padme's younger sister includes: SMUT, praise, small age gap

Despite being Padme's bodyguard for years, Anakin couldn't bring himself to take his eyes away from you.

As if the Jedi code forbidding him from acting on his feelings towards you wasn't enough, the fact that you were Padme's sister and 4 years younger than him was the dealbreaker.

He was already 22 and you were barely 18. It made him feel guilty for thinking about you like that, especially when he was basically following your sister around half the time.

Padme was also very protective over you-always making sure you were okay, never letting you get in trouble, no leaving the house without bodyguards. She really wasn't taking any chances with you, even though she was usually in far more danger than you..

He'd never admit it but it made him so jealous.

He wanted to be the one to care about you like that. He wanted to be the one you'd kiss and hug every time you came to visit, not the one you'd acknowledge once in a blue moon.

It's not like the two of you never talked, you did..occasionally. Quick glances, shared laughter while you were with your sister and a rare smile when passing by.

But it wasn't enough for him. He wanted you and your attention completely and utterly to himself. The mere sight of you made his resolve weak.

He didn't know what he liked about you more. Your eyes? Your laugh, smile? The way you carried yourself? How smart you were? Was it the more reckless part of you?

Once, Padme insisted on sending Anakin to ensure your safety while you were out in the city. You claimed you'd 'hanging out with friends'..Poor Anakin had to watch and listen to you flirt with a boy for 2 whole hours.

It was the fact that he was nothing like the young boy that bothered Anakin. He was blonde with shorter hair and looked like he was about your age. Seemed like he wasn't a part of the Jedi order, considering the fact that he was publicly flirting with you..or the fact that he had any time to spare at all. Overall, Anakin and him were polar opposites.

He still wasn't over that even though 3 years passed since that day.

Though, he'd much rather watch you pining over a guy than not see you at all. The truth was, you hadn't come to Coruscant for a while. At least, not when he was there.

Because the war was slowly subsiding, Anakin's missions became longer-helping the galaxy recover from the damage it's people brought upon it.

Lucky for Anakin, Padme insisted you move to Curoscant to live with her. He, of course, had no knowledge of this-he was on a mission when Padme discussed this with you.

So now, not even 3 days after he returned from a mission-he was staring right at you as Padme cooed over you. He froze mid step, breath hitching and heart racing.

Anakin hadn't seen you in, what? 6-7 months, yet you looked so different. More mature, responsible..He wasn't sure if it was his mind playing tricks on him but to him, you looked like an actual angel.

You were so much beautiful than he remembered. Or maybe it was because he was starting to forget you which he silently cursed himself for as he walked over.

Anakin’s boots echoed in the hallway as he made his way closer, his mind a whirlwind of emotions he didn’t want to face. The light around you seemed to shimmer differently now. There you were, sitting next to Padmé, laughing softly as her sister lovingly fussed over you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

But it was the way you held yourself—like you didn’t need anyone—that got to him the most.

The pull toward you was undeniable, raw. He’d tried to ignore it before. He’d convinced himself that it was just the stress of the war. That it was just the loneliness. But now? Standing here, seeing you like this, he couldn’t deny it anymore

"Anakin." You greeted, your voice warm but with an edge of something more. It made him pause.

"Hello m'lady." He said, his voice sounding a little too hoarse, a little too soft. He tried to force a smile, but it felt like it cracked before it fully formed. "I just got back."

Padmé looked up from you, a smile forming on her lips. "Anakin, it’s good to see you. I wasn’t expecting you up so soon."

"I uh...wasn't really tired last night" He shakes his head, standing behind Padme with his arms crossed.

"Well, let me go find something for us to eat and drink, yeah?" Padme smiled at you expectantly.

"Sure." You chuckle out a sigh.

As soon as she's out the door, you can't help it.

"Ani? My goodness you've grown" You chuckle, leaning your face on the palm of your hand.

"So have you... grown more beautiful, I mean...for a Senator, I mean."

Anakin tries to keep his cool by throwing you a sheepish smile, but in reality-he's mentally facepalming for his nervousness and stupid choice of words.

You chuckle, shaking your head as Padme comes back. She's holding a tray with 3 cups, a teapot and some cookies.

Adapting to seeing you around all the time was agonizing for Anakin. Not a second passes by without Anakin thinking about you. It seems like you are embedded in his soul.

He'll never get used to you smiling and greeting him every time you walked by. Nor eating meals together. Nor catching you staring at him, seemingly zoned out.

It was late, maybe 2 AM. The whole apartment was quiet, the only sound the hum of appliances and the occasional ship passing by.

He had spent too many nights like this-sitting on the couch, staring at the view before him, unable to turn off his thoughts. It was getting ridiculous, really. He was a Jedi. He was trained to control his emotions, to let go of attachments.

"What the-" His head snapped towards the source of the sound. It seemed to be coming from your room.

An intruder? No—he would’ve felt a disturbance in the Force.

Anakin was on his feet before he could think, instincts kicking in as he rushed toward your door. His heart pounded in his chest as he reached for the handle, only hesitating for a fraction of a second before pushing it open.

"M'lady?!" He called out as soon as the door opened. Anakin stepped into the room just in time to see a shadow slipping toward the window. His jaw clenched.

"Where do you think you’re going?"

You froze.

Slowly, very slowly, you turned around, caught like a thief in the night. Your eyes were wide, lips slightly parted, as if you were scrambling for an excuse.

Anakin crossed his arms, leaning against the wall with an unimpressed look. "Well?"

You exhaled through your nose, muttering something under your breath before forcing a smile. "Anakin! What a surprise. I was just-uh. getting some fresh air."

"At two in the morning?”" He arched his scarred eyebrow.

You cleared your throat, straightening up and taking a few steps away from the window. "Best time for it."

He huffed out a dry laugh, stepping closer. "Try again."

You shifted on your feet, eyes darting toward the door, then back to him. "It’s not a big deal."

"If it wasn’t a big deal, you wouldn’t be sneaking."

That shut you up.

"I wasn’t going far," you argued. "Just—meeting my friends."

Anakin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You do realize that Coruscant isn’t exactly safe at this hour, right?"

"Oh, please," you scoffed. "It’s not like I’m wandering into the lower levels. We’re just going Nothing’s going to happen."

"That’s not the point." His jaw clenched. "You shouldn’t be sneaking around in the first place."

You rolled your eyes. "I’m not a child, Anakin. I don’t need a lecture."

"No," he agreed, stepping even closer. "But you do need to stop making my life harder."

"What?" You scoffed, arms crossing over your chest.

He sighed, dragging a hand down his face before looking at you again, frustration laced with something deeper. "Do you have any idea what it’s like to worry about you all the time?"

You stared at him, caught off guard. "Anakin, I'm not 12, I'll be fine."

Anakin exhaled sharply, his patience hanging by a thread. "Either you stay, or I’m coming with you."

"You don’t get to make that decision for me, Anakin."

"Someone has to," he shot back, voice rough with frustration. "Because clearly, you don’t care how reckless you’re being."

You scoffed. "I’m not reckless. You're just like Padme. I don’t need you hovering over me like some overprotective-"

"Maker, do you even hear yourself?" He took a step closer, whisper-shouting now in order to not wake up your sister. The intensity in his eyes making your breath hitch. "I can’t just let you walk out of here because it would kill me if something happened to you."

The words hung in the air, heavy and unshakable.

"Anakin-"

"No." He shook his head, stepping even closer, until he was barely a breath away. "I can’t do this anymore. I can’t act like it doesn’t tear me apart every time you walk away. And I sure as hell can’t sit here and let you slip through my fingers again."

The air between you was electric, charged with something you’d both been avoiding for far too long.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely a whisper. "Then don’t."

Anakin froze. His breathing was uneven, his hands trembling at his sides.

And then-his lips were on yours.

It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t hesitant. It was desperate, messy, like he had been holding himself back for far too long and had finally snapped.

You gasped against him, but any protest died the second his hands cupped your face, pulling you deeper into him. His lips moved against yours like he was afraid you’d disappear, like he needed to memorize the way you felt.

Stars, you were drowning in him. In the way he kissed you, in the way his breath hitched when your fingers curled into his tunic.

He kissed just like he fought-passionate, relentless, as if the very idea of stopping was unbearable. His fingers curled into your hair, deepening the kiss, stealing every breath from your lungs.

A low groan rumbled in his chest when you let out a soft whimper, and suddenly, you found yourself backed against the wall, his body caging you in.

His thumb brushed over your jaw as he pulled away, gaze flickering between your eyes and your mouth. "Tell me to stop," he rasped. "Tell me, and I will." He mumbled, face barely an inch from yours.

You didn’t even think twice before your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. Every part of you felt alive, a rush of heat and electricity coursing through your veins.

His lips left yours briefly, both of you gasping for air, but he didn’t give you a chance to fully process what was happening. His mouth was on your neck now, pressing soft, heated kisses against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"Anakin..." Your breathless voice cracked as your fingers dug into his shoulders, pulling him even closer.

He groaned your name, his lips trailing upward to your ear. "I’ve wanted this for so long," he muttered between kisses, his voice raw. "I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s... it’s all I ever do."

You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation of his words and his touch. Everything in you wanted this-wanted him. It was all too much, and yet, you couldn’t pull away.

You felt his breath hot against your skin as he pulled back, his chest heaving. "Tell me you want this too," he said, voice thick with desire. "Please, just say it. I need to know you want this."

You looked up at him, eyes clouded with the same urgency, the same need. "I want this," you breathed out, unable to hide the truth any longer. "I want you."

"Please…" He whispered your name like a prayer, his hands moving to the small of your back, urging you closer. He pushed you back on the bed, crawling over you.

You welcome him with open arms, wrapping one around his neck while the other one runs over his back and arm. His arm is steadily holding you up by the waist, caressing and squeezing your skin while the mechanic one is holding his weight up.

"Ani" You whimper as his hips involuntarily grind against you, rubbing his thick length against your thigh.

"I'm sorry m'lady" He teases, lips latching onto your jaw and neck. "You ever done this before?" He mutters against your skin as he trails kisses down your neck.

"Yeah.." You mumble sheepishly, although you do your best to hide it. For some reason, that felt worse than saying you weren't. You couldn't tell why.

He hums, nipping at a sensitive spot on your neck before he pulls back slightly, slipping his Jedi robe off and letting it fall to the ground.

"I couldn't wait to get my hands on you.." Anakin brushes his nose against your neck as his hands trail from your thighs up to your waist, slipping under your shirt and taking it off.

You waste no time in tugging on the remaining clothes he has, which he complies with immediately-pushing his pants down as you fumble with the buttons of his shirt.

Withing seconds, both of you are naked and his tip is teasing your entrance as he adjusts himself. "Tell me to stop if it gets too much, okay?" He whispers.

"As if.." You chuckle, swallowing thickly as he parts your legs with his knee, accidentally brushing against your wetness.

He shakes his head in amusement before bottoming out, drawing a loud gasp from you.

"Shh...can't have none of that when your sister's sleeping in the next room.." He warns you

"R-right.." Your voice weavers.

"Good, good.." He nods tauntingly before starting to move again. His hips snap against yours in a firm pace, filling the sound with various but muffled noises.

Your hands run up and down his back and arms, grounding yourself against the almost punishing sensations. To refrain from making noise, you bit down on your lip. Hard. To the point where you could swear it was bleeding.

Still, soft and desperate noises managed to make their way to Anakin's ears and gosh, he was enjoying them, but no way is he gonna let himself be caught before he destroys your pussy thoroughly at least once.

"I told you to shut up." He mutters breathlessly, hand coming up to cover your mouth.

That, mixed with his precise thrusts makes you moan into his hand, and arch up, taking him deeper. His tip had no problem in kissing your cervix repeatedly..

"Damnit.." He huffs "No wonder half the Senators trip over themselves for you."

Your eyes roll back, fingers digging into his skin desperately as your body recoils against the bed with the force of his thrusts. Anakin's eyes keep wandering over your half covered face and body-taking in the way your tits bounce.

"Anakin-oh, Maker" You breathe out, tightening around him as if to pull him deeper and further into you.

"Too loud.." He shakes his head, smashing his lips against yours in a sloppy kiss. It's messy and desperate, as if he never kissed anyone in his life. His tongue delves in your mouth, lapping over yours hungrily.

"Mhm, that's right." He encourages "I've got you."

His voice alone sent shivers down your spine. Heat started pooling in your lower belly, the familiar sensation making you more aroused and excited.

Your hand grips the sheets, back arching further into him as you cum. Your walls are basically suffocating his length and boy, does it feel good.

Your breathing is labored and you're babbling nonsense quietly as Anakin ruts his hips into yours repeatedly, groaning above you. His breath fans your neck and jaw, making you feel even hotter and vulnerable.

"Fuu-where do you want me?" He prompts, voice strained. "Hm, pretty girl?"

"Mmmh.." You whine "Anywhere you want..I don't care I just need you."

"Correct." He teases, giving a few rough thrusts before spilling inside of you with a soft whimper of pleasure, painting your insides white.

[pasukiyo]

A PLACE IN THE SEA OF STARS

anakin skywalker x f!naberrie!reader word count: 10.4k (my longest yet... i'm so sorry) warnings: two idiots pining, pining, reader is padme's younger sister (whether biological or adopted is up to you), first time having sex, soft smut, angst synopsis: a life spent in padmé amidala's shadow and never once did she ever think she'd be envious of her sister. that is, until anakin skywalker walks his way into her life and she finds herself praying that one day, he'd look at her the way he does at padmé, that she'll be given a place in the sea of stars, that her destiny will include him.

read on ao3

 It came as no surprise that Anakin Skywalker would be enamored with her second-to-oldest sister.

 After a life spent behind Padmé Amidala’s shadow, she’d grown accustomed to it— being overlooked. But for once, just this once, she wished history wouldn’t repeat itself, wished the prophecy could be rewritten and for once, let it be her who was chosen, who was noticed. 

 But of course, it’s futile. 

 You can sink to your knees and pray to whatever higher being is in the sky but at the end of the day, there are millions of lost souls just like you doing the same. You can have faith, you can believe that someday you’ll be heard but with each silent day that passes, your voice still falls on deaf ears. 

 She’s done her time playing the fool who sinks to her knees and pleads with the night sky to find her a place in the sea of stars, so that she may fit in a constellation too. She’s been the statue who's been made to wait— and she’s started to crumble. 

 She remembers the day she started to pray like it was yesterday. It was the day she first met Anakin Skywalker, back when he was only a Padawan, still searching for his own place in the world. Her parents were restless then, having heard of the multiple assassination attempts on their dear second oldest daughter. Of course she was worried too, but she still could feel the guilt that settled into the marrow of her bones when she found herself pondering whether her parents would react the same way if it had been her life at stake instead. 

 She remembers helping her eldest sister, Sola, and her mother with dinner in preparation for the arrival of their sister Padmé and her Jedi escort. She’d been tasked with bringing a bowl of fruit to the table and she remembered nearly being trampled over by her nieces, Ryoo and Pooja, as they squeal Padmé’s name, sprinting for the door. 

 She remembers huffing, mumbling a curse in an alien language beneath her breath just as their guests step inside, looking up from where she leaned over the table, dropping the bowl down onto the surface. She remembers her breath catching in her throat when her gaze found a sea of blue that put the Naboo waters to shame. 

 Padmé’s lips curved into a grin as she exclaimed her sister’s name, circling the table to capture her in an embrace. Her sister wrapped her arms around her and her chin found Padmé’s shoulder as the blue that took her breath away crashed into her and she swore everything changed in that moment. 

 She remembers the first time Anakin Skywalker looked at her. It was a brief, friendly locking of the eyes but a fleeting moment for him felt like lightyears for her. His eyes were the blue of the water where the sun’s reflection gently ripples and warps. They were the blue of the sky after it rains and the sun begins to spill through the cracks of the wall of clouds. 

 She’s never understood what it meant to be speechless, for something to literally steal the breath away from her lungs. But from the moment her eyes met his, she began to understand. 

 “Anakin! This is my youngest sister,” Padmé announced, pulling away from their embrace. Her spine stiffened when her sister introduced her and she watched as his full, pink lips moved to form her name. His voice is like nails scraping against the itch she can’t reach on her back, his voice is like velvet she can swallow, deliciously soft and rich against her throat. 

 “It’s nice to meet you,” Anakin dipped his chin in greeting, the silly, little braid falling off his shoulder. She drained the lump that had formed in her throat, bowing her head. Her lips trembled and her breath was shaky as she prepared her salutations but her words fell dead on the tip of her tongue when Padmé’s squeal permeated the room. 

 “And my eldest sister Sola!”

 And just like that, all attention rolled away from her and onto her eldest sisters but she still watched him, heart beating against her chest. 

 And that was the moment she began to pray. 

 She prayed, even though the looks he’d given Padmé didn’t go unnoticed. The way he watched her, even when she wasn’t the one speaking, the way he’d soak in every word, every praise for her that fell past her parents’ mouths. The way he stared longingly at her sister when he was certain nobody was watching— and no one was, for their attentions were on Padmé, save for hers. 

 It was typical. 

 It should come as no surprise that everyone would worship the ground her sister— the former Queen, current Senator of Naboo— walked on. She’s not surprised that someone young and benign like him would fall in love with her sister— she’d only seen it happen more times than she ever really cared to count. 

 And she’d never really cared about all the suitors on their knees at Padmé’s feet before— they were her sister’s problems, not hers. She’d never even really envied her sister, at least in that sense. 

 But everything changed the moment Anakin stepped through the door. Everything changed the moment their eyes met, if only for the most fleeting of seconds. 

 So she prayed. 

 Inside the inner realms of her mind, she sinks to her knees and stares into the void above her, the stars that beamed down at her twinkling, almost as if they taunted her. She swallowed her pride, folding her hands together and raising them to her chin, brow dipping as she pleaded with the higher being in the sky to hear her cry. 

 “Please, hear me, Maker,” she whispered into her mind, externally staring at Anakin, internally losing her gaze amongst the stars as if the Maker himself would appear between them. “Hear my plea. Whatever destiny you’ve pre-written for me, please be sure it includes Anakin Skywalker.”

 She didn’t see Anakin Skywalker again for another year after that. 

 Apparently, being a Jedi means he’s constantly from place to place, but next time they do end up in the same place, it’s even more fleeting than the last. She was beginning to wonder if she would ever see him again, if she was foolish to continue hoping that he might notice her, that he might even love her. But she still remembers the way his eyes flickered in recognition when they caught hers across the courtyard of Theed Royal Palace. His hair was longer and he didn’t have that ridiculous braid or tiny ponytail on the back of his neck anymore. The Chancellor was speaking to him and another Jedi with umber hair and a matching beard, but his attention was on her. 

 He looked… darker. As if the years of war had finally begun taking its toll on him. But he’s still the same man he’s always been, still the same one she’s dreamed about. He even looked better.  

 They don’t get the chance to talk, only share knowing glances, as he was on duty and their paths unfortunately didn’t cross. But that gleaming in his eyes, the one that blazes with knowing is all the kindling in the pit of her belly needs to bloom, to blossom into a raging wildfire. 

 So, she prayed again. 

 “Maker,” she said into that night sky inside of her head. The stars shone brighter, as if to laugh at the foolish girl beneath them. She ignored them of course— because she truly believed that one day, she’d prove them wrong. “Please. Hear my plea. Let Anakin Skywalker see me again. Give me a place in your sea of stars and make sure it is in Anakin Skywalker’s orbit.”

 She doesn’t see him again for another two years. 

 But still, he lingers, just like a phantom weaving through every corner she passes, cloaked in shadow. She sees Anakin Skywalker everywhere she goes— in the lakes of shining waters out in the country, in the rain that falls on a dark, cloudy day, in the litany of stars that idle in the sky. 

 She sees him in her dreams, staring the way he did at Padmé. Only, in her dreams, his gaze finds her. Almost like he had that day in the courtyard, but in her dreams, his eyes would linger longer. 

 His voice calls out to her whenever she’s sleeping and it lingers in gooseflesh on her skin, frosting over her bones. She’ll open her eyes when he calls but she’s never truly awake. Alas, if dreaming is the only way she’ll see Anakin Skywalker again, she’d gladly succumb to her sleep and trick herself into believing it is real. 

 Except tonight, she does not think she can take it much longer. 

 “Anakin,” she whispers one day when she peels her eyelids open after he calls. She says his name like it’ll be the last time she ever will. That look is on his face again— the one she’s seen so many times directed at her in her dreams, she’s nearly forgotten it wasn’t meant for her in the first place. 

 She used to wake and long for sleep to come again, just so she could watch him look at her like that. 

 But three long years of waiting and foolishly praying to beings who do not hear have begun to rust the illusion she’s deluded herself into hopelessly believing in. Three long years of silence and she’s finally cracked. She is broken— she sees it now. She’s grown weary of hoping he’d be the one to fix her. 

 His lips curve to form a smile and for three years, she’s fooled herself into believing it could be for her— truly be for her, outside of her dreams. But to be forthright, she’s tired. She’s grown tired of pretending, tired of clinging onto the dying embers of mere memories of how a man looked at someone that wasn’t her— but rather her sister. She’s grown tired of hoping, waiting, praying that one day, he may wander back into her life and thread his way into the tapestry that her destiny’s been woven into.

 Tonight is the night she forfeits with her palms to the sky, tonight is the night she yields to the stars that have taunted her for far too long and admits her defeat. That they were right all along. Tonight is the night she blows away the ashes she’s desperately held so close to her chest and sealed away in secret urns inside for far too long. 

 Tonight is the night she lets go. 

 When she wakes the following morning, birds chirp outside her window. Sunlight spills into her room as it rises over the mountains across the lake and she yawns, stretching her arms over her head. Today is merry— it is the day her sister, Padmé Amidala, marries. 

 Today is merry but instead, she feels dread seep into the marrow of her bones. She’s happy for her sister, really, she is, but it serves only as a reminder that her time is ticking, and time has turned vexing. It serves as a reminder that she must make haste to find her own purpose, to find someone who will cherish her the way she’s spent many fortnights dreaming about. Sola’s already married and found her purpose, and Padmé’s had her entire life laid out before her since she was only fourteen years of age. 

 Sola, the wife and mother, Padmé, the Queen and then the Senator, and then there’s her. Unsure. Undecided. An ellipsis. 

 She’s envious. How could she not be? She’s envious that she’ll never be the perfect mother like Sola, envious that she’ll never live up to Padmé’s legacy, she’s even grown envious of the stars: they simply idle in the night sky but even their idleness has a purpose because their places have reason, to create constellations that in turn, tell stories. 

 She knows that after today, the pressure of fulfilling whatever destiny’s been written for her will only further suffocate her. She will suffocate beneath the weight of this pressure and she will be expected to continue breathing. She’s tried for so long to keep the air in her lungs but it’s so hard when with each day that passes by, the darkness grows more appealing. 

 She’s tried so hard to find the right path she’s supposed to take, but there are so many roads, so many choices and so many consequences. She’s afraid— and it’s why she’s allowed herself to hide in her sisters’ shadows for so long. But it feels so stifling now. 

 She sighs and blinks up to the terracotta ceiling. And then of course, dread wears her bones for an entirely different reason. Because it’s inevitable that she’s going to see Anakin Skywalker today. And things will be different. 

 It’s been lingering like an annoying, little insect since Padmé announced she’d invited her Jedi friends to the wedding, ever since she heard Anakin’s name being read off the list. Things were certain to change because he is but a mere guest, and not the groom. 

 It may have come as no surprise that Anakin would fall for her, but it certainly came as a shock that Padmé wouldn’t fall for him. 

 It makes her flesh blaze with a strange anger she’s not quite sure how to describe. How could her sister have something she so desperately wanted but not pursue it? How could she reject Anakin when he would willingly break and bend to her every whim? Why must her sister take his infatuation for granted— why could it not be given to her instead?

 She thinks it must be some cruel trick the Maker is playing on her, dangling Anakin in front of her like that, cursing him with an unrequited love when she was right there. She thinks it must be the Maker’s— damn him— cruel way of taunting her, as if the sneering stars had eyes, his eyes. Even if part of her is relieved Anakin is not marrying her sister, it still feels like a blaster wound to her chest, puncturing her skin and searing her insides. 

 She hears her name called from outside her room’s door and groans. 

 “What do you want?” She replies in displeasure as the door slides open. Her eldest sister, Sola, steps into the room and glowers at her youngest sister’s tone. 

 “Well, good morning sunshine,” Sola remarks and she rolls her eyes. Sola makes her way towards the bed, dropping a dress the color of fire onto the mattress. “Is there a reason for your ill-temper today?”

 She pushes herself to sit upright, wrinkling her nose at the dress as she takes a fistful of it in her hand. “Orange?” She scoffs, tossing it back down onto the bed. “I thought we were wearing blue?”

 Sola shrugs, plopping down onto the mattress. “Padmé changed her mind last minute,” she says. “I suppose if we wore blue, we’d mesh with the background, don’t you think?”

 She sighs and flops back down against her pillows, one arm folded over her stomach, the other folded behind her head. Sola pokes her forefinger against her knee and she grumbles, narrowing her eyes at the ceiling. 

 “Now, answer the question,” her oldest sister insists. “What’s the matter with you?”

 Her eyelids flutter closed and she wishes more than anything that she could simply wink out of existence. It’s not that she doesn’t want to be here for Padmé, she does, but she’s uncertain how she could possibly explain how she feels to Sola in a way she could understand. It’s exactly this that’s made her feel so alone all these years. 

 She’s never had someone who could understand her, really get her. She’s always been different from her sisters, even before marriage and coronations and political promotions. It’s something she’s certain her sisters have known, that even her parents must’ve known. She’s never been jovial and nurturing like Sola, or clever and independent like Padmé. She’s always preferred silence and privacy, and maybe that’s been her problem. But it’s all she knows, being alone. 

 Sola’s never spent years yearning for a boy who yearns for another, so she couldn’t possibly understand. She doesn’t think she could even make her understand. 

 She sighs, lolling her head to the side until her gaze finds Sola’s. 

 “Not looking forward to wearing that dress for the entire evening,” she says instead. Sola’s eyes roll and she leans over to pinch her calf beneath the covers. She hisses and swats her sister’s hand away as she clicks her tongue, moving out of the way. 

 “Oh come on, it’s not that bad,” Sola tries to reason. 

 “It’s hideous,” she deadpans. 

 Sola deflates with the acceptance of her defeat. She grabs her sister’s knee, giving it a shake. She glares at her older sister. 

 “Come on, that can’t be the only reason why you’re in such a foul mood,” Sola insists, her bottom lip rolling in a pout and she swears it’s almost comical how her eldest sister can act like such a child. It’s a wonder how she has children of her own. 

 She blinks at Sola as a sort of realization creeps onto her eldest sister’s face and she blinks, internally grimacing. For she knows that whatever is bound to come out of her sister’s mouth next is going to be completely and utterly wrong. 

 “I think I get it now,” Sola’s tone is softer, her face falling to match it. “You’re upset you’ll be the last of us to be married.”

 And there it is. 

 She internally cringes at just how wrong Sola is but she says nothing, further prompting her sister to lean forward, reaching for the hand that rests on her stomach. Her muscles stiffen when she takes it and she wills herself to stay still. It was better to let Sola say whatever she had to say than recoil and deny it— it’s not like she had any better excuse anyways. 

 “I know it can be tough,” she begins. “Feeling like you’re left out. Believe me, I had my fair share of it. I was so jealous of yours and Padmé’s relationship when you were younger because I was so much older, I felt like I just didn’t quite fit in with you two.”

 Her eyes finally meet Sola’s and she begins to see her eldest sister in a different light. All this time, she’s believed she’s the only one who’s felt this way— lost, left behind. While this isn’t quite the same context, she still feels her heart tremble in her chest for her sister, still feels like something’s shifted. It’s at least one thing they can understand each other on. 

 “But then, I found my husband. And then I had Ryoo and Pooja,” Sola continues. “And it was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ve never been so happy in my life.”

 Sola’s grip tightens around her hand and she leans forward to place her other one on top. “I know it must seem hard, seeing as both Padmé and I are married— well, almost anyway.” Her lips curve into a soft, reassuring grin. “But you’ll find that same happiness one day. I just know it. So don’t fret, little sister.”

And there, she fears, is where her sister misses the plot. 

 She almost wants to laugh at how ridiculous this all sounds. She remains silent, however, and Sola gives the back of her hand one last reassuring pat before she lets go, sliding off of the mattress. 

 “Anyways, I’m going to breakfast. You should come too before all the blue waffles are gone.”

 She watches as her eldest sister slips out of the room, the door sliding closed behind her and she sighs, digging her knuckles into her closed eyelids until the galaxy shimmers before her. How could Sola have come so close to understanding her one minute only to read her so wrong the next?

 She doesn’t make any effort to get out of bed and in all honesty, she wishes she could simply stay here forever, or at least for the rest of the night. At least long enough that she doesn’t have to face Anakin Skywalker. 

 Because even though she’s already promised herself that she’d let him go, she wasn’t entirely certain she could hold true to her own word when she sees him again.

 The day goes by in a blur. In the blink of an eye, she’s wearing a satin dress in that deep orange she finds hideous beside Sola who stands beside Padmé. Padmé stands facing her husband-to-be, fingertips delicately placed in his palms as they recite their vows. 

 The sun paints the villa’s terrace with an orange glow and she watches it sink beneath the mountains across the lake from the corner of her eye. The sunlight looks like fire rippling in the gentle waves of the water below and she has to look away because she thinks of Anakin, how his eyes glimmer just the same. 

 She’s determined to keep her gaze away from the audience, however, because she knows he’s there, the incarnation of all she’s ever wanted, of all her bad ideas, of everything she cannot trust herself with in one. She searches the ground below, watches the way her dress ruffles with the breeze, like fire askew in the wind. 

 Padmé says something that makes the audience erupt in laughter and it startles her, so much that the hair on the back of her neck erects. When she flinches, she makes the mistake of blinking up— right into the eyes she’d been bound to avoid all night. 

 The world around Anakin Skywalker seems to stir until it’s all wet, blurry hues of orange, green, and white. Anakin is the only one she sees in high resolution— she can see every lock of wavy, dark blonde hair, every rippling wave in his irises, the scarlet line that slices just beside his right eye. She’d never seen this scar before— it must be new. 

 But what’s the most peculiar of all is that she meets his eyes— she meets his eyes. She’d blinked up to find he’d already been staring, already transfixed on her by the time their gazes met and his eyes had illuminated with that same knowing gleam she’d seen in them that day in the royal courtyard. 

 Anakin Skywalker is looking at her and she is not in a dream. It’s both momentous and utterly devastating all the same.

 She isn’t quite sure whether to look away or not. This is what she's mooned over more times than her pride will allow her to admit. She’s dreamed this many nights, for Anakin Skywalker to simply look at her and now he is. Anakin Skywalker is looking at her and she should feel elated but instead she feels… conflicted. 

 Does her heart flutter in her chest? Sure. 

 Does her stomach twist itself into knots? Certainly. 

 She felt so confident just the night before when she threw her hands up in surrender to the black sky, admitting her defeat to the stars who spent many moons mocking her that she was done. She felt so confident that she was ready to move on, to let go of this desire she’s harbored for Anakin for so long. 

 With the simplest of looks, Anakin Skywalker has proven capable of crumpling the paper walls she’d placed around herself. She was left feeling feeble, exposed and any sense of courage she thought she had was now lost. 

 Because three years of waiting and praying to higher entities who did not hear her pleas could not cease overnight. Her attraction to Anakin Skywalker could not cease in hours. She thought she’d extinguished the last flames of her withering hope but, as it turns out, a single dying ember remained. It means a part of her still yearned for him. A part of her still burned for him. 

 She wonders now, that he’s still looking at her, what possibly goes on inside his head. Why does he look at her now? Why does he stare, why do his lips twitch before curving in a smile when their eyes meet, why do they irradiate the longer her gaze lingers on his? Why does he not look sad at the wedding of the woman he loves? Why does he not even look at Padmé?

 Her mind swirls like a tempest— churning with unhinged, vicious anguish. She has to look away before the acid that bubbles in her throat can come to fruition but she can’t, and Anakin seemingly can’t tear his gaze away from her either. It’s all the more sickening and earth-shattering nonetheless. Her heart swells and pounds in her chest, the border of her vision beginning to blur with the familiar sting of tears. Her head is aching and it’s all just too much— she needs an escape. 

 “I now pronounce you, husband and wife.”

 She blinks away her emotion to the best of her ability, using the end of the ceremony as an excuse to look away as the crowd around her thunders with applause. Her mind is reeling and she feels like her head is spinning as she subconsciously claps her palms together, the sound muffled like water in her ears.  The watercolor around her stirs until it’s clear again and the entire world suddenly seems to move again— it’s her, this time, that’s in slow motion. 

 The cheering sounds like thunder, the applause like rain pelting against a window, and her mind begins to crumple, just like metal. She longs for escape, to flee and to be beside herself for the rest of the night. Padmé and her husband begin walking back down the aisle as their guests congratulate them, tossing flower petals into the air above them. She thinks that this is her chance to escape, she thinks everyone is distracted enough that no one will notice her leaving. 

 They never cared to notice her before anyways. 

 She begins to shuffle away but she doesn’t make it very far before her stomach lurches when someone clasps a hand around her wrist, tugging her forward. She snaps her head to the source to find her eldest sister, Sola, with her face illuminated by a grin. 

 “Come on!” Sola exclaims, dragging her down the aisle and back inside the villa. “It’s time to party!”

 Dread drains the blood from her cheeks but she’s given no time to protest before she’s being dragged down the aisle, right past Anakin Skywalker. She doesn’t dare look up but she feels him when she passes by, a mere brush of the arms, the feeling of his elbow brushing going just as fast as it came. 

 And it’s still enough to make liquid of her insides. 

 She drowns in a sea of people as she and Sola find Padmé, wrapped in their mother’s arms. She can hear her heart drum in her ears as Sola releases her hand to draw Padmé into an embrace, tears streaming down the apples of her cheeks. Everyone around her is so happy and she should be too— but she still feels like she’s beside the altar, caught in the trap Anakin has seemingly laid out for her. 

 A tear that’s been painfully dormant in her eye falls and she’s certain her distress shows on her face but it must be easily mistaken for tears of joy, because Padmé pulls away from Sola to turn to her, drawing her in for a hug. Her sister’s arms wrap around her body, a palm on her back, the other cupping the back of her head. Even Sola reaches forward to give her upper arm a reassuring squeeze, undoubtedly thinking back to the conversation they’d had earlier. 

 “Don’t cry for me, baby sister,” Padmé laughs tearfully beside her ear. She can feel Padmé’s smile against her shoulder. She pulls away and rubs her palms up and down the length of her arms. “I’m still the same Padmé I’ve always been.”

 She’s unable to reply— again, she’s misunderstood. But it’s her sister’s wedding day, she won’t burden her with her own confliction. So she swallows the boulder-sized lump in her throat, curving her lips just enough to form a tight-lipped smile. 

 “I’m just… happy for you,” she manages. Padmé cups her cheek and soothes the pad of her thumb over her skin before Ryoo and Pooja draw her attention away. Padmé’s hands fall from her arms and finally, she can breathe. 

 But even that is momentary. 

 “You make a perfectly fine bride if I do say so myself, Senator.”

 Her spine stiffens. She knows that voice. And she knows exactly who is near when she hears it. 

 Padmé laughs and tosses her hands. “Obi-Wan,” she greets him just like an old friend would, pulling him in for an embrace. “And little Ani.”

 How is it that she’s already seen him more tonight than she has in the past three years? She sees Anakin’s dark boots from the top of her vision, not daring to tear her gaze from the ground. 

 “Padmé,” Anakin’s deep, enriching voice sounds and rumbles deep in her belly. She shifts uncomfortably where she stands, desperate to flee. She thinks she can manage it now— Obi-Wan and Anakin are engrossed with Padmé now, right? 

 She begins to make her first attempt of escape, taking slow, careful steps to the side until her second effort crumbles when Anakin speaks her name. 

 Ice frosts over her spine and she’s no choice but to acknowledge the man she was so intent on avoiding the entire evening. Padmé and Obi-Wan are engrossed in their own conversation but Anakin’s gaze remains on her, eyes even sparkling when she finally meets them. 

 Her mouth is a desiccated oasis and her throat feels like a desert as it constricts painfully when she swallows. Still, she manages to breathe out, “Anakin.”

 It’s the first time she can ever recall having a true, proper conversation with him. The last time being when they said their goodbyes that very first time before he and Padmé left for the Lake Country. It’s confusing how this is everything she’s ever wanted yet, she feels an urge to push it all away. 

 Anakin clears his throat and his eyes flicker to his feet for a moment as if he could possibly be nervous before they find hers again. “You look good,” he says and her heart stops beating in her chest. “That dress is beautiful on you.”

 She thinks she could punch him. 

 Or kiss him. 

 She has to look away, or she may very well do the latter. 

 She wonders if this is some cruel, senseless joke the Maker is playing on her. She wonders if she’d upset him by unlatching herself from his hook and this is his way of reeling her back in. She hates that it has the potential to work. 

 “I…” she stammers and closes her lids frustratedly, willing air back into her lungs. She shakes her head— she cannot be here any longer. She may very well explode if she has to succumb to this torture for even a second more. “…thanks. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

 And then, she bolts. 

 She’s lost track of how long she’s been locked in her room, sitting in the window, staring at the moonlight that ripples in the water below. It was long enough for the chatter downstairs to quiet to murmurs until it finally ceased altogether. The villa is now quiet and suddenly, her room feels suffocating. 

 With a sigh, her feet meet the floor and she pushes away from the window seat, cupping her neck to roll it around her shoulders as she pads towards the door. It slides open and she slips through, making her way down the hallway leading towards the main foyer. Her dress flows behind her like flames in the wind, the satin cool against her legs as she walks. Fresh, night air greets her and she inhales, letting it flood her lungs as she saunters to the wide terrace ahead. 

 She stops at the stone arches of the railing and exhales, feeling the wind sift its fingers through her hair, breathing on her skin like a lover in the throes of passion. It caresses her neck and rolls down her back, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. 

 She’d spent many nights just like this one. Staring at the moon rippling through the water, at the stars that twinkle overhead, the sky that blackens behind them. She’d spent many nights praying, releasing her pleas into the air and letting it drift away with the breeze. 

 She does not pray this time. When she lifts her head to brave the dark that faces her, she merely asks why. 

 “Why, Maker,” she whispers beneath her breath. There’s an edge, a strain to her voice that stings her throat, that feels like daggers to her chest. “Why must you be so cruel? I have done everything, I have given you everything. Why wasn’t it enough? Why do you mock me now?”

 The stars overhead gleam as they cackle, sneering at the misfit below. “You’ll never have a place among us,” they seem to say. Tears well in her eyes and she drops her head, fingernails scraping the stone edge of the railing. She leans back on her heels and wills herself to breathe before a sob could wrack her body. 

 She feels lost and utterly alone, and she truly begins to feel like the weight of this prolonged pain has started to fall on top of her. She’s lost and alone and her entire world has started to crumble around her. And then she hears her name. 

 It’s like the call that haunts her every time she closes her eyes, the same velvety voice that caresses her ear every night when she lies down in bed. But it is not a ghostly whisper this time, because it is real. 

 Footsteps sound behind her and she further scratches her nails against the railing. 

 “I was wondering where you wandered off to,” Anakin remarks as he approaches and she can feel him beside her, like a whisper of shadow creeping along her skin. She rolls back onto the balls of her feet and stands straight, sniffing. 

 “Anakin,” she says, steadily, methodically. As if it took great effort to say it without stammering. She can see him out of her peripheral, dark blonde curls falling when he leans an elbow against the railing, tilting his head in an attempt to meet her eye. 

 She does not move. 

 “I was looking for you, you know,” he continues. “You must’ve found a good hiding spot.”

 She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth. “I was in my room,” she replies simply, a steely, monotone in her voice.

 Anakin inhales and hums. “Then it makes sense why I could not find you. I would never barge into a lady’s room.”

 It’s an attempt at humor but she feels anything but. She’s stuck between a rock and a hard place with seemingly no clear solution in sight. She could walk away. She should walk away. She shouldn't spend a single second more in Anakin Skywalker’s presence— she simply couldn’t trust herself to not betray her own vow. 

 Or she could stay. She could stay and once again succumb to the fool’s game she’s been playing. She could stay and let Anakin Skywalker tie another noose around her neck, allowing him to drag her along for another three years. 

 She knows what is right. She knows what she should do. 

 But she’s frozen. 

 She cannot move, cannot even bring her lips to move so she can speak. She instead wilts, like a rose who once stood beautifully now losing its color, shriveling in on herself until she inevitably withers away. 

 She can feel Anakin draw himself just an inch closer beside her, and he’s like a single drop of rain that’s enough to somewhat salvage the husk of who she once was. 

 “Why do you avoid me?” He asks and it’s a question so simply but so damn infuriating all the while. She’s been a volcano in dormancy up until this point, but there’s a rumbling deep within her, threatening to erupt. 

 “Why are you doing this?” She questions, snapping her head towards him, brows dipped and drawn. Anakin blinks and draws back, a dent forming between his own brows. 

 “Doing what?” He asks and that feeling of wanting to ram her fist into his face comes back. She turns to fully face him and he pushes off the railing, uncertainty warping his features. 

 “This,” she gestures between them. “Staring at me. Talking to me. As if we’ve spoken more than hellos and goodbyes to each other.”

 Anakin raises a brow, the one his scar pierces, and it warps with the movement. 

 She continues. “And then you have the audacity to tell me I look beautiful in this gods-awful dress just to spite me.” She is a volcano, no longer dormant, no longer overlooked. She is exploding and Anakin is unfortunate enough to be in her wake. 

 He shakes his head. “Spite you?” He repeats. She begins to pace, a hand on her hip, the other rubbing her chin. Anakin follows, exactly like a lost puppy. “I wasn’t— I would never—“

 “Don’t say you’d never,” she turns on him, sticking an accusatory finger in his face. He blinks from it back to her, that ocean in the irises of his eyes raging, lightning cracking in the sinkhole at its center. She drops her hand and it curls at her side, her fists two shaking balls of fury. Blood bites her cheeks and she thinks of all the times she’s imagined speaking with Anakin Skywalker, of being alone with him. 

 This certainly was not how she’d ever imagined the scenario playing out. 

 She inhales. “Don’t say you’d never do anything to spite me while you are actively using me to get over Padmé,” she exhales, braving the stormy sea in his eyes. The tide shifts and his manner does too and she believes she’s already cracked him. She thinks she’s already shattered the illusion he was trying to create, that she’s lifted the wool he’s tried to veil over her eyes.

 She thinks that he believes whatever game he was trying to play was over. 

 Anakin straightens. “You have no idea what you are talking about,” he says and she scoffs, backing away. 

 “Don’t I?” She retorts. “You don’t think I’ve noticed how you’ve always looked at her? How you’ve always loved her?” 

 It brings her great pain to merely mention it. Her palms wipe at her face as tears begin welling in her eyes again, her cheeks warm as she desperately tries to quell the beginnings of a sob that stutters through her chest. She realizes now that by keeping all of these emotions, these feelings she’s harbored for Anakin for so long bottled has made her restless, has made her tick like a time bomb. 

 And her time to detonate has come. 

 He says her name again and tries to step forward, reeling back when she steps away from him. His hand wrapped in a leather glove hovers in the air between them and he drops it with an exasperated sigh. 

 “Your sister means a great deal to me, yes,” he begins. “But it is not—“

 “My sister is the sole reason why you torment me!” She snaps. “And you have no right to use how I feel against me just because she does not love you back.”

 Her words are an arrow meant to strike, to pierce through his chest, his heart her target. Her words are meant to cut deep, to draw blood, to make him bleed just like she has everyday since they met. She thinks they will, she thinks her blows will etch deep, will even leave scars in their wake. Part of her longs to see that pained expression upon his face, just like the one she wears now. 

 But her arrow merely grazes, soaring past until it sinks in the shining waters below. 

 Anakin’s face shifts but it is not in the way she thought it would, not in the way she hoped it would. His brows dip and his eyes swarm with a pained sort of desperation she’s never seen before in someone. She certainly never expected to see it in someone like him. His chest rises and falls with his breaths as he steps forward again. She stands still, unable to move. She is stunned— Anakin Skywalker has surprised her. 

 “Padmé does not love me,” he admits. “I met her when I was only a child. The only girl I’d ever seen before her was my own mother. So, of course, I felt drawn to her.” Her jaw tightens and her lips fall together in a firm, thin line. Anakin’s brows knit closer together and there’s a flicker in his eyes that she swears looks like the predecessor to tears. 

 She doesn’t quite want to believe it. He could not cry. 

 “And I spent a decade pining, a decade praying that I’d one day see her again, a decade hoping she’d been counting down the days until she saw me again, just like I was.”

 She doesn’t believe what she’s hearing. It’s a reflection of her own story, her own foolish pining, her own foolish praying but not hers, but Anakin’s. Her heart stutters in her chest and she forgets to breathe, having to gasp to gather air back into her lungs. 

 She’s never once felt like she could be understood. She’s never once felt like anyone else could experience the inner turmoil she has, the seemingly fruitless yearning she has. 

 But she’s realizing now that that's not true. Not anymore, at least. Everything is changing right before her eyes. 

 “And then I did,” Anakin shakes his head, a humorless laugh leaving his lips. “And I felt nothing. But I tried. I tried to convince myself I loved her. But I just… didn’t.”

 Her brow furrows and Anakin’s gaze darkens as it finds hers. 

 “I spent a decade obsessing over someone I didn’t really know, and how could I? I was a child.” His eyes search hers, searching for something unbeknownst to her. But she lets him. “I didn’t know what love was. All I knew was infatuation. I didn’t know what it meant to truly feel seen, to truly feel drawn to someone.”

 Anakin pauses and she gets the feeling that whatever he says next will be calamitous. 

 “Until I saw you again, that day outside the palace.”

 Her lips tremble and her breath shudders, an icy chill frosting over her skin. To think he’s thought about her everyday since their eyes briefly met in the midst of a crowded courtyard was hard to believe yet, when she looks at Anakin Skywalker now, she sees the softening of his brow, the quiver in his lips, the honesty in his eyes. 

 She’s only ever imagined one look in his eyes. Desire. 

 But she looks at him now and finds an entire galaxy— there’s longing, there’s earnest, there’s optimism, there’s burning. As it turns out, living creatures are not black and white like she initially thought them to be. Anakin Skywalker is a complex creature, made of flesh and blood and of an intricacy she’d never stopped to consider before. 

 He’s even better than she’s imagined he’d be. 

 Every moment spent under the stars, praying that she’d one day have a place among them, that she one day would sit among them with purpose rather than in an ellipsis suddenly begins to feel like it wasn’t all for nothing after all. Every prayer she’s whispered into the night breeze with Anakin Skywalker’s name in it suddenly feels like they begin to matter, like they begin to come true. 

 Still, she is wary, and Anakin seems to recognize this caution. 

 He takes a step closer and he steals the breath from her chest, just like he had the first moment she saw him. Her fingers twitch, itching to find his, her palms tingling with the desire to feel his skin, her lips buzzing with yearning. She does not touch him, she does not kiss him, she does not do anything. She simply waits for the rest of his story to unfold and her brain aches with the hope that it will unravel into hers. 

 “I saw you that day at the palace to find you were already looking at me. That you were already seeing me,” he mutters, a little breathlessly. “It may have been for… for only a moment but when you looked at me, I felt…” he trails off, a furrow in his brow as he searches for the correct word. “…I felt… like something shifted.”

 She watches as he rolls his lips together, watches as the moonlight catches how they glisten with spittle. Her breath catches a little bit, her gaze lingering there, her desire to lap it all up flaring. 

 “It felt like there was a string there between us I’d never noticed before,” he continues. “There was a connection I’d never realized until the moment our eyes met. I felt you, and I felt you see me. There hasn’t been a day that’s passed by since where I didn’t feel you, where I didn’t feel like we were connected, like we were two stars written in the same constellation.”

 Her chest rises and falls to the erratic beating of her heart as Anakin draws nearer, the hand with his glove meeting her cheek with a tenderness she’d felt from no one before. She’d never realized how starved of touch she’s been until now and it feels so invigorating. Her stare drops to his lips and she feels that string Anakin must’ve been talking about, feels it drawing her closer into his mouth. 

 “Padmé does not love me back, and I do not care,” he says in just above a whisper, his voice rising and falling in a way that jellifies her knees, that makes liquid of her insides. “Because I am burning– foolishly, maybe, yes– for you.”

 She inhales sharply and it truly feels like all her prayers are finally being answered, like she’s being inducted into her rightful place in the sea of stars. And in her constellation, Anakin Skywalker resides too. 

 She reaches up with a hand to hold the crook of his elbow that’s strung between them as he brings his other, ungloved hand to rest on her other cheek. She feels his skin on her cheek as the pad of his thumb soothes over the warmth of her flesh and her body quakes with shivers that roll down her spine all the way to her toes. He begins to lean in, his breath hot where it fans against her skin but she tilts backwards, just enough for him to halt, a quirk in one of his brows. 

 “I will not let you settle for me, Anakin Skywalker,” she whispers, admitting that insecurity still lingers, despite his words. Anakin’s eyes narrow as he uses his hands on either sides of her face to draw her in, his lips but a mere whisper away from hers when he murmurs, “settle? This is not settling. This is binding.”

 Then, his lips are on hers in an electrifying bind that shatters her spine with cracks of lightning and she falls into him, her hands on either of his forearms to keep herself steady. 

 Anakin kisses her with an ardor she could never even dream up in all of her wildest of fantasies. He kisses her and she feels like she finally fits in her dress, as it is the color of fire and she’s engulfed in flames. He kisses her and he is the flame that lights her candle, the flame that melts her from the center, that makes heat course through her that washes all the way down to her toes. He kisses her and she is melting, right into him. 

 His tongue pirouettes over hers and she hums into his mouth, feeling his fingers thread through her hair. Her heart is pounding and her lips are buzzing but all she feels is Anakin, she feels the muscles in his arms, the warmth that radiates off his body and spills into her. She feels the push and pull of the passion, the yearning he’s kept inside all this time. She feels her own longing and fervor pour into him and they are floating, two clouds that collide into one another to become one. 

 Anakin steps forward and steps backwards until she hits a wall. When they pull away for breath, she realizes he’s backed her into one of the pillars, a vine caught in the hair on the back of her head. Their chests heave with the weight of their breaths and she watches as Anakin’s hand, not the gloved one, but the one with skin rises, following it as it reaches for her neck. She shudders when he touches her collarbone, exposed from the side of the fiery satin of her dress. His fingertips sear her skin as it drags to the neck of her dress, following the satin where it wraps around her throat, all the way to the back of her neck where the lace falls. 

 Her breath catches when his fingers find the small strings keeping her dress together. Her gaze finds his again to find he’s already staring, a narrow, earnest look upon his face that darkens his eyes and hardens his features. There is a silent question that hangs in the air between them: “do you want to stop?”

 Maybe they’re moving too fast. Maybe this is crazy, maybe they’re simply caught up in the moment, high off the feeling of burning for someone who burns for them too. But after years of pining, of waiting, of praying, it only feels right. 

 But still, she asks, “what if someone sees? Someone like Obi-Wan who can get you in trouble?”

 Anakin shakes his head, “they won’t. Now, I don’t want to talk about Obi-Wan. Do you want to stop?”

 The shake of her head is all Anakin needs to see before he unlaces the strings holding her dress together, the satin falling like a spark blazing down the frayed edges of a rope until it pools at her elbows. Her breasts spill from the dress and the night’s ghostly whisper chills her skin, peaking her nipples. 

 Anakin’s eyes devour and she is prey. 

 His stare pierces through her skin to the marrow of her bones that catch a chill and she quakes. He meets her eyes again as his hands drift lower, dipping until they finally find her chest. A sharp gasp escapes when his palms cup either of her breasts and she arches into his touch, already aching for more. 

 “Anakin!” She gasps in a breathy exclaim when he dips his chin to press a kiss over the top of one of her breasts, heat blossoming in his lips’ wake. His eyes catch her again, a little warily. “Is this okay?” He asks, his voice low and gravely, scratching the itch in her brain she didn’t even know she had. It makes her knees feel weak and if it hadn’t been for his body pressed up against hers, she would’ve crumpled straight to the ground. 

 “Yes,” she breathes, chest heaving into his palms. “I’m sorry, I’ve just… never…”

 Anakin’s lips curve and she can see a flash of white peek between them. He shakes his head. “Me neither,” he admits with a breathy laugh and she titters too, grateful for the fact that she’s not the only one who’s a little green. 

 “Can I keep going?” He questions and his voice is liquid desire, melting straight down to her core. She swallows the lump that’s formed in her throat, nodding. “Please,” she adds, feeling her heart beat straight into his palm. 

 Anakin’s head dips again and she watches, cheeks warm as he places an open-mouthed kiss just above her nipple. His palm kneads the other breast as his lips venture just an inch lower, finding the peaked bud that awaits, suckling it into his mouth. 

 It’s like electricity flooding through her veins. 

 She throws her head back, lips falling agape as her eyelids snap closed, soaking in the pleasure of Anakin’s lips on her nipple. He cautiously flicks his tongue against the bud, watching through his lids as a moan falls from her lips, encouraging him to do it again. He flattens his tongue against her nipple and licks a long, fat stripe from the underside of it up, feeling her tremble in his arms. He lets go of her breast with a wet pop, trailing kisses through the valley between them to make his way to the other. 

 Touching him, feeling him, kissing him is somehow even better than she’d ever imagined, even after all those years of dreaming for moments like this. She can’t believe she’s gone so long without feeling him like this, she doesn’t think she can ever stop touching him. 

 Anakin suckles on her breast, flicking his tongue against her nipple as his hand not wrapped in a glove ventures down her body, past her waist, down her hip. He pulls the satin material of her dress up until his arm can sneak his way beneath it and she shivers when his fingers find her center over her underwear. Her nails dig into his sleeves above his shoulders, holding her breath as he finds the wet spot in her underwear, gently pressing against it. 

 Her hands tighten on his shoulders and ceases all movement, peering up at her. “You’re wet,” he says rather matter-of-factly because of course she is, how could she not be? She nods down at him, swallowing thick layers of saliva down her throat. “Can I touch you here?” He asks and his voice drops to that silky, velvety tone that makes her core ache. She presses her lips together to stifle her groan, head vigorously nodding up and down. 

 “Gods yes, Anakin,” she moans, slowly rocking her hips against his finger. “Please.”

 She feels filthy in a way for asking, for needing friction so desperately. She’s only ever taken her own fingers when she’s too lost in pleasure at night to sleep, never been touched by anyone else but it’s all she craves now, for Anakin’s fingers to touch her, for him— whatever part it may be— to be inside her. 

 A flame had been ignited in the pit of her belly long ago, back when Anakin first stepped through the door the day they met. It’s sat stagnant for too long, waiting for its moment to further bloom and now it has. It blossomed when her eyes met Anakin’s that day in the courtyard but it’s now in full bloom, now that they burn together, now that his kisses have seared her skin, now that his fingers are pulling her underwear down her thighs, just enough that he can reach her center. 

 When his fingertips brush her clit, she bursts. 

 Anakin’s arm wraps around her waist as she practically collapses into him, his middle finger drawing circles against her clit, his breath hot as his lips rest on her brow. 

 “Is this good?” He asks against her forehead. “Do you feel good?” He questions again as he adds his forefinger to the mix, applying just a little more pressure and it makes her eyes roll. 

 “Yes, just… just don’t stop,” she exhales, feeling her stomach twist itself into a knot, his fingers against her clit threatening to pull it undone any moment. 

 So he doesn’t. 

 He’s unrelenting in the way his fingers press to the aching bud in her center, tracing tight circles until her eyes squeeze closed so hard, milky-ways shimmer behind her lids. He dares venture lower, gathering her slick on the pads of his fingers as he teases near her entrance. It’s a foreign and strange feeling, it’s a pattern she’s traced many times with her own fingers but never been touched by someone else. Even in spite of how many nights she spent trekking that path wishing it was Anakin’s fingers instead, but it’s still strange feeling him there now. 

 She clutches his arm tighter and he slows, beginning to retract his hand. She stops him, lifting her head until their eyes meet again. 

 “No,” she pants, shaking her head. “Don’t stop, just… just take it slow.”

 He nods, his finger a little unsure as it circles her entrance, unintentionally teasing until she begins to crack. She’s panting, trying to wiggle her hips so that she can draw his fingers in, seeking that feeling of being full. Anakin dips his forefinger into her hole and she tosses her head back, her lips parting for an “oh” to emit. 

 He watches her face, even if she can’t see it, she can feel his gaze behind her closed lids. He is testing the waters, learning what makes her moan, what makes her squirm, what makes her come. Slowly, he sinks his finger further in and she feels every single millimeter that drags along her walls until he’s knuckle deep. Her legs feel like jelly and her knees begin to wobble, nails clinging to his sleeves like they were her lifeline. 

 Pressure builds in the pit of her belly as Anakin carefully retracts his finger, just to sink it back in again, a slow, cautious rhythm that leaves her mind spinning. His fingers are so much bigger than hers and she already feels so stuffed despite it only being one finger. Somehow, it’s too much and not enough at the same time. 

 “Ana… Anakin,” she gasps, peeling open her lids to find he’s already looking. His finger slows but picks up its pace again when he realizes she’s not in any pain. “Another.”

 His brow dips and his head tilts in confusion, uncertain what she means. She gathers moisture on her lips, trying to speak through the pleasure-driven haze in her mind. 

 “Another finger. Please.”

 Their eyes lock and there’s a flicker in his, a hint of doubt. 

 “Are you su—“

 “Please.”

 So, Anakin gathers her lips with his and she mewls into his mouth when he presses his middle against his pointer, sinking them into her cunt until they reach as far as they can. She’s trembling against him but he keeps her upright, with his arm and with his lips. 

 Just one of Anakin’s fingers had made her feel stuffed but two of his fingers made her feel full to the brim. Her walls clench around his fingers and she gasps his name like the beginning of a prayer, pleading for more. 

 It’s a twist on the prayers she recites to the Maker every night. It’s rewriting her every broken hymn, transforming it into something entirely new. She moans Anakin’s name and his fingers turn it into a song so that she cries like a dove into the night. The Maker may have left her feeling broken, wasted, unimportant but Anakin has found her, patched her up, polished her until she’s brand new. 

 The tangle in her belly begins to rupture, slowly unraveling and so she pushes his arm away, his fingers sliding out of her cunt, her walls pulsing with the loss. They both pant and Anakin’s face hardens in question as his chest heaves. 

 “What is it?” He asks, searching her face. 

 She gathers air deep in her chest. “I want…” She trails off, her embarrassment washing over her cheeks in blood. Her gaze drops and Anakin tilts his head to find it again, their eyes locked. He says nothing, only the nod of his head encourages her to continue. “…I want more. I want… I want you to…”

 She purses her lips in frustration. For heaven’s sake, she’s talking to the man who just had his fingers inside of her mere moments ago. Why does she feel embarrassed now?

 She takes another deep breath, mustering the courage to tell what she truly wants. “…I want you to feel good too.”

 Something shifts in Anakin’s eyes. It could be easily mistaken as a trick of the light but she sees it, she feels it. Anakin is burning just the same as her, his pupils becoming a backdrop behind the fires of desire, and she burns within it. 

 She watches as Anakin’s hand sinks below the belt around his middle, all the way down to the waistband of his trousers beneath his dark tunic. She watches with her breath lodged at the base of her throat as he pulls down his pants, just enough for his cock to be set free and oh, it is just like her dreams but even better. 

 Nothing could have ever prepared her for the sight of Anakin Skywalker’s cock. Not even the wildest of her dreams could ever capture the essence of the art of Anakin Skywalker. He is handcrafted by the gods themselves— he is the physical embodiment of masterpiece. 

 He steps forward and towers over her, his breath like smoke rolling over her face. She peers up at him, her chest heaving with the effort of breathing. His hands find either side of her face and she stops breathing altogether, wondering what he will do next. 

 Then, “put your arms here,” he whispers, guiding her arms over his shoulder. “And hold on.”

 She squeals when he drops his hands to the undersides of her thighs, lifting her off the ground so that her ankles lock behind his back. Her arms tighten around his neck as he presses her back against the pillar, his chest pressed into hers. She can feel his length as it’s squeezed between either of their bodies and her walls clench around nothing, practically sobbing to feel him inside. 

 For a moment, the world stills around them and it’s like when she sees him in the audience during Padmé’s wedding. The night stirs and blurs until it’s dark watercolor, but Anakin is what she sees in high resolution. It’s the perfect mirage— she and Anakin feel like two stars in the middle of the black abyss above, forming their own little constellation. 

 And when Anakin finally slides himself inside of her, she feels like her place in the sea of stars has been cemented. She finally feels like she’s where she belongs.

a/n; SO! MY LONGEST IMAGINE YET.... may or may not have gotten a bit carried away (more like a little too wordy...) BUT! i really hope some of you enjoy and i truly appreciate anyone who reads this all the way through. i know 10k words is a lot 😭 also i hope this doesn’t seem too insta-lovey… this idea just came to me in a dream so i wrote what I dreamt lol

💫 if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the world to me 🫶

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ALMOST HERS, ENTIRELY YOURS: AOTC!ANAKIN X PADMÉ'S YOUNGER SISTER!READER

CHAPTER ONE NEXT

SYNOPSIS: Anakin Skywalker has loved Padmé Amidala since he was ten years old — a crush that grew into something deeper over time. But everything shifts when he meets you, her younger sister.

WARNINGS: None yet. Anidala also here, don't if need a warning for them ;)

WORDS: 3.3k

A/N: hii, babes! sooo this little ideia I had while I was listening to “How Bad Do You Want It” by Lady Gaga. hope you enjoy! comments, reblogs & chaos always welcome — and requests are open as always! dividers by @/enchanthings

'𝑪𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒉, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒉 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒎𝒚 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆, '𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰'𝒎 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆

With attempts on Senator Amidala’s life becoming alarmingly routine, the Jedi Council had ruled that she remain under Jedi protection, not just for her safety, but to ensure the Separatists couldn’t silence her before she brought her motion before the Senate. Padmé Amidala was well-known across the galaxy for her unwavering principles. A fierce advocate for diplomacy, her voice carried weight and those who feared it knew it could shift the tides of war.

The growing tension with the Separatists had stirred chaos on Coruscant. It wouldn’t be long before that chaos would ripple outward, spreading like wildfire across the galaxy. Any hope for truce by democratic means was dwindling, but if there was one voice still strong enough to challenge the storm, it was hers.

Anakin Skywalker could hardly contain the anticipation of seeing her again.

His feelings for the senator hadn’t faded over the years. If anything, time apart had only made them sharper, more vivid, more impossible to ignore. From the moment he first saw her, he believed she was an angel, and nothing he’d learned about her since had proven him wrong. Whether it was in the holonews, Temple rumors, or stories exchanged in quiet corridors, Padmé Amidala’s compassion and courage only made her seem more unreal. More unreachable.

She wasn’t like the others. Not like the hollow politicians he’d overheard growing up. Padmé cared. She saw the galaxy not in star systems and senate seats, but in people, in those who suffered, those forgotten beneath the shining towers of Coruscant’s upper levels. She fought to pull justice upward from the shadows, to remind the Republic of its duty. And that, Anakin thought, made her the only kind of leader worth following.

“I’m sure Senator Amidala hasn’t forgotten about you,” Obi-Wan’s voice cut through the whirl of thoughts in his padawan’s head, calm and amused.

Anakin blinked, heat rushing to his face. He turned away from the elevator’s glass wall, willing the blush not to show. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Master,” he muttered, voice stiff and unconvincing.

Obi-Wan only shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching in a knowing smile. He didn’t need the Force to sense how Anakin practically came undone the second the elevator doors slid open. And there she was.

Senator Amidala stood before them, her presence as composed and radiant as ever. She smiled politely as her eyes landed on Obi-Wan.

“Master Kenobi,” she greeted warmly.

But then her gaze fell on Anakin. And it lingered.

Just long enough for his breath to catch and his pulse to roar in his ears.

“Ani,” she said softly, her eyes warming. “How you’ve grown…”

Anakin scratched the back of his neck, cheeks burning. “You haven’t changed at all,” he blurted, then stumbled on his words. “I mean—you’ve just gotten… prettier.”

Smooth, he thought, cursing himself silently.

But Padmé only smiled, gracious and unbothered by his awkwardness, and motioned for them to sit in the sunken living room of her Coruscant apartment. Captain Typho, the ever-watchful head of Naboo’s royal security, stood nearby with his arms crossed, his lone eye scanning the room with practiced precision. It was clear he was already running through contingency plans, ready to bend reality if that’s what it took to protect the senator.

The conversation was brief, or at least, it felt that way to Anakin. If he was honest, he barely registered the words being exchanged. His mind was far too busy spinning up fantasies where he and Senator Amidala were alone together, in a field of wildflowers, on Naboo, on Coruscant, anywhere she would allow him to exist in her orbit.

By the time it was over, he was already standing beside Obi-Wan, halfway into the elevator, still chasing the imaginary sound of her laugh in his head, when his master reminded him of the arrangement: He would be the one escorting Padmé back to Naboo, where she’d spend time with her family while the Separatist crisis was being contained.

And just like that, they were off, the two of them, together. Anakin felt like he was walking on air, grateful beyond measure that the Force had aligned to give him this opportunity. He could barely keep still. To have an excuse to be near her, speak to her, breathe the same air, it was more than he could bear. It was a dream, one he hoped wouldn’t end.

They traveled on a freighter, blending in with the other passengers, keeping a low profile to avoid tipping off anyone who might want to harm her. Even then, in worn robes and modest surroundings, she shone like starlight. The journey was a whirlwind of feelings. Every time she looked at him, spoke to him, asked him something, anything, his heart felt like it might burst from his chest.

Padmé asked him about his life. About his Jedi training. About the man he was becoming.

And gathering a courage he didn’t fully possess, Anakin answered, painting vivid pictures of daring missions and wild adventures. He spoke of triumphs, of narrow escapes, of battles fought alongside Obi-Wan. Of course, with Obi-Wan not there, Anakin took a little liberty with the storytelling. Maybe just slightly exaggerated his own role. Maybe omitted the times things hadn’t gone quite to plan.

But in her eyes, he wanted to be impressive. He wanted to be more than the boy she used to know. He wanted to be the man she could one day love.

When they landed on Naboo, a welcoming party from the Queen’s court was already waiting by the dock. Anakin stepped out first, helping Padmé into the little lake skiff. Her delicate hand lingered against his palm, warm and featherlight, and even after she’d taken her seat to speak with one of the guards, he couldn’t help but glance down at his hand, tracing the ghost of her touch with his thumb and smiling to himself like a fool.

Barely ten minutes later, the boat glided across the still water and docked along the curved wooden pier that wrapped around the Amidala family’s lake house. The soft creak of wood under his boots echoed as Anakin stepped off, stretching out his hand to help the senator once again. But before he could savor the feel of her fingers in his, Padmé was already swept into her parents’ arms, their reunion saturated with long-held emotion and relief.

“Sis!”

An unfamiliar voice called from the doorway of the house, light, melodic, and filled with giddy affection. Anakin’s gaze snapped up, instinctively alert, his stance shifting until he saw you.

Your smile was pure sunlight as you darted forward, lifting your long silk skirt to hurry toward your sister, arms already reaching out for a hug. But as Anakin had instinctively anticipated, your steps faltered, your foot catching on one of the many airy layers of your gown. You teetered forward, wide-eyed, arms flailing. You were a second from tumbling off the dock and into the water.

Until he caught you.

One strong arm wrapped around your back, the other gripping your forearm just before you went under. Your breath hitched, your chest pressed to his, your heart pounding as the world slowed for a moment too long.

You looked up, startled and slightly breathless, straight into the bluest eyes you'd ever seen. The kind of blue that made you forget what you were about to say.

“Oh,” you murmured, blinking. “Wait—are you that little boy Padmé said she met on Tatooine?”

Anakin blinked, like your words had snapped him out of a trance. He carefully set you back on your feet, stepping away as soon as he was sure you were steady.

“I’m a Jedi,” he said quickly, too quickly. “Anakin Skywalker.”

There was a quiet defiance in the way he said it, like he needed to cast off whatever image you’d just conjured. Not a boy from a desert planet. Not a slave. But a warrior. A protector. A Jedi.

Your smile only grew, excitement flaring in your expression. “I’ve never met a Jedi before,” you said, eyes bright with curiosity. “You can, like... move stuff with your mind? Or even better — do you actually carry one of those glowing laser swords?”

“Lightsaber,” Anakin corrected gently, but his lips tugged into a smile, soft and a little cocky, like he couldn’t quite help it. You made him feel seen. Not as a mission or an obligation. But as something... more.

He straightened slightly, his tone slipping into something halfway between duty and pride. “A Jedi’s lightsaber is his life. We’re taught to protect it, to never lose it.”

You leaned in a little closer, not missing the flicker of pride in his voice. “Can I see it?” you asked, like you were asking to see a hidden treasure. “Please? Just for a second?”

There was a sparkle in your eyes, like this was all a grand adventure. You weren't impressed by titles or legacy. You were just curious, joyful, and so effortlessly magnetic it almost made his chest ache.

Anakin hesitated, a quiet grin blooming at the edge of his lips. He knew he shouldn’t. But he also knew he wanted to.

And Force help him — he wanted to impress you.

“Y/N, Padawan Skywalker didn’t come here to play,” Padmé said gently, her tone laced with older-sister patience as she gave you a pointed look.

You pouted but obeyed, not without rolling your eyes like a bratty teenager who'd been caught mid-fun. Anakin noticed, catching the shift in your expression just as you stuck your tongue out at him. He blinked in surprise, clearly unsure whether he should be amused or annoyed. You, of course, took that as a win.

You and Padmé couldn’t have been more different.

Where she was graceful, composed, and precise, a woman who wielded diplomacy the way some wielded weapons, you were all impulse, confidence, and fire. Padmé had always been the one to weigh every word, to calculate every step. You, on the other hand, didn’t stop until you got what you wanted, no matter how messy the path there was. If she was the cool voice of reason, you were the one kicking down the door.

You both carried the same iron courage, the same unwavering hope in people, but yours showed up in sharper, more unpredictable ways. Maybe it was the age gap. Maybe it was her responsibilities as a senator. Or maybe it was simply the weight of her legacy, the fact that you’d spent your life under the shadow of the galaxy’s role model, and your only choice was to walk a different path entirely.

Anakin’s official duty was to protect Padmé, shadow her, guard her, ensure no further attempts on her life succeeded. But the reality was far more boring than it sounded. She spent long hours behind closed doors in tense meetings, writing briefs, and trading coded messages with other senators. And because he wasn’t allowed in the room when classified matters were discussed, he spent much of his time pacing the hallways like a restless hound.

Which meant you quickly became his favorite distraction.

You’d appear with a mischievous smile and a bounce in your step, tossing him a piece of fruit or a cupcake as you passed by, laughing when he fumbled the catch. Other times, you’d simply sit beside him, chattering about anything and everything, sometimes just to make him laugh. It became a rhythm, a quiet, unspoken habit. He found himself waiting for the sound of your footsteps. For that light in your eyes.

Once and only once he let you hold his lightsaber.

He’d meant it as a small gesture, maybe even a show of trust. A way to impress you. But within moments, you’d accidentally activated it, and before either of you could react, you’d sliced your mother’s antique vase clean in two.

You both stared at the destruction in stunned silence, the hum of the blade still vibrating in the air. Then you looked at him, wide-eyed but shameless.

“Oops.”

Anakin groaned, hand over his face. “I’m never hearing the end of this.”

You just grinned, handing the weapon back carefully like it was no big deal. “Relax, Skywalker. I’ll blame it on the wind.”

And in that moment, he knew exactly what kind of trouble you were, and that he liked it far more than he should.

On one of his nightly rounds, Anakin noticed a window left ajar, the curtains swaying lazily in the cool night breeze. He moved toward it cautiously, one hand already brushing the hilt of his lightsaber, prepared for danger, for disruption.

What he found instead was you.

You were perched in the open window, dressed in black pants and a jacket that blended into the night, your silhouette cut from the same cloth as the stars. Your legs dangled freely, swaying just over the edge, as if you were moments away from slipping into the moonlit air and vanishing.

His heart skipped, not from fear, but from the jolt of seeing you there, wild and untamed.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice low and sharp, his brow furrowed as his hand closed firmly around your arm. The contact was meant to stop you, but his fingers lingered.

You rolled your eyes dramatically. “You don’t know how to have fun, do you, Anakin?” you teased, your smile pulling at the corner of your mouth, sly and impossible to ignore. “I suppose fun isn’t in the Jedi vocabulary.”

He didn’t answer. His jaw was set, his fingers tightening slightly on your arm.

“Y/N, go back to your room,” he said, trying to summon that disciplined tone Obi-Wan always used. “You’re going to get yourself hurt.”

“Then come with me,” you murmured, tilting your head. “Protect me, Jedi.”

There was something in your voice, a melody laced with danger, invitation, and the kind of rebellion Anakin recognized too well in himself. You weren’t just tempting him to leave his post, you were tempting him to abandon the safety of his walls. To choose want over duty.

He glanced at the hallway behind him, at the door to Padmé’s quarters, the room he was assigned to guard. That was where he should be. The Jedi Code echoed in the back of his mind like a warning bell. But the fire in your eyes drowned it out.

“Come on, Anakin,” you whispered, fingers sliding down his wrist and lacing with his. “Almost all of Naboo’s guard is stationed here. No one’s going to get past them tonight.”

His resolve crumbled the moment you pulled him closer.

“Fine,” he said, quiet and breathless.

You grinned, not a sweet smile, but something electric. And without another word, you leapt out of the window, tugging him with you. Anakin barely had time to react before he landed behind you on the back of a speeder bike, the one you have parked discreetly at the edge of the estate.

Your hands took the controls. The engine purred to life, and then you were flying, your hair whipping back into his face, your body warm and solid against his. He wrapped his arms around your waist, to keep balance, he told himself. But he didn’t let go.

You flew like you lived, fast, chaotic, alive. The speeder dove and climbed with reckless abandon, your laughter carried on the wind. More than once, he swore you were about to hit a tree, only for you to swerve with perfect, impossible timing.

The world blurred around you, stars above, lake below and still, all Anakin could think of was the warmth of your body beneath his hands, the rush of danger and desire tangling in his chest. You weren’t just a thrill. You were a spark. A question he’d never dared ask, what would it feel like to be free?

The lake shimmered below as you leaned them toward the water, close enough for him to dip his hand into the cool surface. His fingers broke through the glass-like stillness, trailing through glowing fish that darted away in flashes of silver and blue.

For once, there were no rules. No titles. No expectations. He isn't the choosen one. He was just Anakin.

Just you and him, flying too fast through the night, hearts pounding, hands tangled, somewhere between duty and something far more dangerous.

You smiled softly, glancing over your shoulder at him. That carefree grin on his face suited him, bright, unburdened, almost boyish. Anakin was too young to carry the weight of a galaxy on his shoulders. He shouldn’t have had to bear so much so soon. Tonight, you just wanted to give him something simple, a night with no duties, no burdens, no destiny waiting to devour him.

A moment of distraction, a curve too fast and you nearly clipped a tree. Anakin acted on instinct, grabbing the steering handles and forcing the speeder into a sharp turn. The vehicle skidded, tore through a field of wildflowers, and finally came to a halt in a shower of petals and torn grass. The two of you tumbled off the bench, landing in the tangled bloom of crushed blossoms and laughter.

You braced for a lecture. You’d nearly killed them both. He had every right to scold you, but instead, he laughed.

Anakin tipped his head back and let go, laughing so hard he clutched his stomach, his whole body shaking with it. And that was it, you cracked too, letting the tension dissolve into giggles and gasps for breath, tears of joy slipping down your cheeks as you collapsed into the flowers beside him.

“Thank you,” Anakin murmured when the laughter faded into silence. His palm found your back, warm and grounding as he pulled you closer. Your head came to rest on his chest, rising and falling with each quiet breath. “I needed that.”

You smiled softly, tracing the seams of his Jedi uniform with idle fingers. “A near-death experience?”

He chuckled. “Yeah… that too.”

His eyes drifted up to the sky endless and star-drenched. So different from Tatooine. On Naboo, the air wasn’t thick with fear or survival. Here, everything felt softer. Lighter. Free.

“I think,” he said slowly, “I needed to be happy… without feeling guilty about it.”

You looked up at him, gaze gentle, then reached for his hand. Your fingers found his and squeezed, grounding him again.

“Good,” you whispered, a grin tugging at your lips. “cause I don’t plan on letting you go until we’ve squeezed every bit of fun Naboo has to offer.”

“Oh?” he teased, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers grazing your skin just long enough to make your breath catch. The moonlight painted your features like something from a dream, soft, glowing, unreal. “And I don’t get a choice?”

You shook your head, playful but sincere. “You always have a choice, Anakin. You just have to remember that it’s yours to make.”

Your eyes turned skyward again, catching the shimmer of a shooting star as it cut through the dark. “Quick, quick, make a wish.”

He watched you close your eyes, the smallest smile curving your lips as you whispered your hope to the stars. You were radiant like this, not just beautiful, but whole, alive in a way that seemed untouched by everything that weighed on him.

He closed his eyes too.

He didn’t believe in those myths, in childish stories. But if a wish could keep you close, if it could carve out more nights like this, where he wasn’t a Jedi, or a soldier, or a ticking time bomb, then he would wish harder than he ever had.

Because this? This soft happiness? He hadn’t known how badly he needed it. And now that he had… he wasn’t sure he could live without it.

You reminded him that he had choices. That he was still human, still his own. That maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to walk the path that others carved for him.

He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. But under that star-filled sky, your hand still wrapped in his, he decided he was ready to find out.

TAGLIST: @ihearthayden @anakinstwinklebunny @sometimescharlolette @awhhayden @dessxoxsworld @speaknow-sw @freudsweetlamb @devilslittlehelper

[jelly-opal]

I love you writers that love Satine Kryze.

That write Satine as sharp and tough and so incredibly good. That write Satine as a crackshot and an expert at hand-to-hand. As someone who has killed and who never wants to do it ever again. As someone who never wants anyone to be killed on her behalf. Or as someone who has never killed and hopes to never have to.

I love you writers that write about Satine’s parents. That explain her upbringing. That write Bo-Katan as her twin sister or her baby sister. Her sister who is much younger or just a little younger. Her sister who she misses and hopes is okay, despite everything.

That write about Satine’s time with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. That write her as adoring Qui-Gon, or not trusting Qui-Gon quite yet. That write her as loving Obi-Wan from the day they met or hating Obi-Wan at first and loving him later. That write Satine as older or younger than Obi-Wan. As taller or shorter than him, or the exact same height.

That write her as a caf drinker, or a tea drinker, or a martini drinker. Or all three.

That write Satine in a canon-compliant story, an AU, a time-travel tale, a modern-day adventure.

I love you writers that write her as an amazing individual and an amazing partner. An amazing aunt or an amazing mother or both. That write her as Padme or Ahsoka’s mentor. As Breha’s best friend. As a mother figure to Anakin when he needs one. As a friend to Shmi in a universe where they get to met. As a ride-or-die to Quinlan. As Dex's favorite customer. As Palpatine's nightmare. As an advocate for the Clones in a world where they see peace and need a place to call home.

That write her as completely devastated about what has become of Mandalore but determined until the end to make it right.

That write her as short-tempered. As resolute. As patient and kind. As a no-nonsense straight-shooter. As a flirt. As an artful debater. As vulnerable and guarded. As brave and scared. As witty, brilliant, enchanting.

I love you writers that love Satine Kryze.

[fear-is-truth]

Please can I have dark Anakin Skywalker kidnapping Padme's younger sister after Padme dies because she looks so much like her and forcing her to be with him.

you wake to something that isn’t there.

you used to wake to warmth. to light filtering in through silk curtains, the soft rustle of sheets as she climbed into your bed, gently shaking your shoulder. wake up, wake up, you’ll miss breakfast. for a cruel second—you let yourself believe it’s her. that if you turn over, your beloved sister will be there. to hear that affectionate albeit exasperated sigh when you pulled the blanket over your head.

the air in the chamber is devoid of warmth. only darkness and the sound of his breathing—hiss, pause, hiss—a slow, mechanical drag that drowns out your own.

the illusion shatters.

you don’t open your eyes. if you stay perfectly still, maybe he’ll leave. you can feel him, though. molecules in the air tangibly rearranging themselves.

“you are safe,”

a lie. one of many.

his voice is worse than his phantom touch. scraped raw by the modulator, stripping away everything that once made him human. there is nothing left of anakin skywalker. only this—this thing standing at the foot of your bed, a black monolith against the dark.

a ripple that you can’t touch but sense, caressing your arm, coiling around at your wrist. warm yet distant.

not by his hand, but pure will.

“stop that.” you snap. the feeling vanishes instantly, but it lingers like a bruise. rage surges inside you, hotter than the flames of mustafar. your hands clench into fists. you want to spit venom, to scream that padmé is dead and you will never be her, that you hate him, that you will always hate him. but beneath all that anguish and fear—there is pity.

he still loves her.

love is what made him this. love is what killed your sister. love is what doomed you.

[xxmcr05xx]

When the Sun Hits | Anakin Skywalker x f!Reader

Summary: Anakin doesn't know how to cope so he goes to his fwb.

Warnings/Contains: Friends with benefits, virginity loss, flashbacks, making out, groping, dry-humping, hickeys, cunnilingus, fingering (f! receiving), orgasm, nipple play, nipple licking, friends to lovers, dacryphilia, praise kink, doggy style, cowgirl position

WC: 3,877

Originally posted: 02/06/25 on AO3!

Title Song: When the Sun Hits - Slowdive

18+ MDNI

Divider by @uzmacchiato

Anakin was curled up in bed.

He had been feeling quite low for the past couple of days now, war was looming and he know he shouldn't be scared - he's a Jedi for fuck sake! Nonetheless, he still felt paralyzed in his bed. Anakin just wanted one girl: his best friend F/N. The two had been friends ever since Anakin was a young padawan - the two first meeting on Naboo as the queen's younger sister.

After their initial meeting, the two became inseparable, talking to each other almost every week and when they were lucky enough, spent their free time together doing who knows what. That was years ago now and the two have grown older, both 23 to be exact. There was a shift in their relationship, and it happened when they were celebrating F/N's 19th birthday.

"Happy birthday, F/N!" Anakin cheered, walking up to the girl and giving her a big hug.

"Ani! Aah I was wondering when you," F/N greeted back, keeping her arms wrapped around his waist, "everyone is in the main hall partying right now, but I don't want of that. Honestly, it was Padmé's idea to host the party, oddly enough, Sola was also enthusiastic as well about the party," F/N sighed out, letting go of the hug, "honestly, I wanted to just have you over put she insisted."

Anakin let out a small chuckle, "You're a very lucky girl, F/N. C'mon, let's go say hi to some people then maybe we can go up to your room, 'kay?" Anakin suggested, F/N pouted but gave a nod anyway, walking together to the main hall. When they arrived, music was playing loudly, the decor was F/N's edgy taste of darker colours - with some lighter decorations sprinkled in thanks to her sister's.

In the distance, Padmé spotted the two and perked up, walking over and waving, "Anakin! A pleasure to see you," Padmé greeted, giving the man a small side-hug, "F/N does NOT shut up about you, y'know I think she'd like you for her bir-" Padmé was interrupted with F/N slapping her hand over her mouth, clearly embarrassed. Anakin raised an eyebrow at Padmé's statement, but didn't think too much of it

"That's enough, Padmé, shut up," F/N growled through her teeth, "anyway.... can I go to my room now? Everyone's been her for like five hours now; I'm extremely tired," I whined out.

Padmé gave her younger sister an empathetic look and nodded, "You guys are free to go up, I just hope you're having a good birthday, sister," she said softly, rubbing F/N's arm.

"I am, Padmé, thank you."

F/N then grabbed Anakin's excitedly and waved goodbye to her sister, Anakin was taken aback a bit with F/N's sudden gesture, but just followed her anyway. "Man, I am just so glad you're here, Ani, this party was just a bore," F/N complained as they made their way to F/N's room.

"Mmm I'm sure it is, F/N. It was all you were complaining about for the past couple of days," the boy replied, rolling his eyes a little with a small grin.

"Excuse me, Anakin, I NEVER complain," F/N replied back with a matter-of-fact tone that made Anakin snicker a little.

The pair finally made their way to F/N's room, it was decorated with a lot of posters, as well as a lot of water colour paintings that the girl had done. F/N went to her vanity and started to take out her hair pins, "Can you believe what they did to my hair, Ani? I would never allow myself to have it all pinned up and curled, but Padmé HAD to insist I have it up - she even asked her stupid servants to do it up..." The blond man nodded softly, he was sat on F/N bed, looking over at the girl as she casual-fied herself.

F/N talked nonstop for about thirty minutes about the party as she changed out of her party attire and into something more comfortable. She walked behind the room divider to change, complaining about her sister and how she found it annoying that her parents had told her to live in the palace with her queen sister, but her other sister got to stay at home.

Moonlight peered out of the windows, it was at just the right angle that Anakin could see F/N naked silhouette. His eyes widened slightly as he could see her undress, unaware that Anakin could see her so well while she continued to chat. Anakin had these thoughts about F/N before: when he was just hitting puberty he saw her at a different angle of teenage lust. As a Jedi he couldn't do anything and tried very hard to suppress those feelings - ultimately failing at some times.

Anakin cleared his throat to clear his mind as F/N walked out from the divider, dressed in her pyjamas now. "- and so I'm just deciding not to talk to them again. Such a lazy coward," F/N huffed out, sitting on the bed next to Anakin, "I hope that you're enjoying yourself, Anakin," the girl asked, crossing her legs and laying on her back.

"O-Oh yeah I'm okay. Actually, I did get you a gift," Anakin replied back, F/N looked up and pouted, "I know I know, you didn't want a gift but I felt bad... you are nineteen now, after all," Anakin reached into his pocket and held a jewelry box in his hand. F/N gasped a little and sat up, looking at Anakin. "Happy birthday," Anakin whispered, giving the box to F/N.

When she opened it up, the box revealed a gorgeous gold chain, in the middle that gold continued to weave over a polished chalcedony crystal. "Wow, Anakin, I don't know what to say..." F/N looked up at Anakin with soft eyes, "thank you." Anakin smiled back as F/N took the necklace out of the box, wearing it over her neck.

"It looked gorgeous on you, F/N," Anakin mumbled, playing with the sleeve of his robe as F/N admired it.

"Where did you even get something like this?" F/N asked, looking closely at the crystal.

Anakin chuckled and looked away nervously, "Don't worry, F/N. As long as you're happy with it." The girl looked up at Anakin and smiled softly, she wriggled a bit closer to him and hugged him tightly, repeating another quiet thank you as they hugged. Anakin was taken aback a bit but hugged her back anyway. He could feel her breath on his neck and the smell of her perfume strongly.

The two moved away from the hug and stared at each other, Anakin looked into her eyes with a deep compassion while F/N had a strong sense of need. "Anakin..." F/N whispered, she had a small crease near her eyebrow - Anakin knew that look, she would do that subconsciously when she wanted something.

"Yes, F/N?"

F/N gulped and looked to the side, suddenly feeling extremely hot and bothered when looking at Anakin. "Thank you for making my birthday special... I... I don't know what to say or do," She let out with a small voice. Anakin could sense it on her, something about the situation they were in right now made their usually relaxed relationship suddenly tensed up.

"Can you feel it?" F/N asked.

She looked back up at him with desperate eyes, she was feeling things that she shouldn't about her best friend but Anakin could sense it in her head. F/N wanted Anakin in a more-than-friendly way and Anakin could sense it. The blond gulped and looked back at her, "I can't... I'm a Jedi," Anakin muttered back, but he didn't care, he knew that he was lying - they both knew that he was lying.

"We can still be friends, I still want to be your friend, Ani."

The use of his nickname in that moment flooded Anakin with a sense of stronger lust.

"Still friends?"

"Still friends."

Anakin moved closer now, he basically entrapped F/N between his legs, his hands moved to her cheek, feeling her warm face. Neither of them had ever been close like this before, they hadn't even been like this with another person. "Tell me to stop..." Anakin whispered, his other hand grazing down her arm now.

But F/N didn't.

She shook her head and moved her own hand over his own that was on her cheek, "I need you right now, Ani."

It was all Anakin had to hear, he slowly guided F/N to lay down on her bed and crawled on top of her, basically caging her with his arms and legs. F/N had this insatiable look in her eyes as Anakin stared down at her - they both knew it was wrong but it wouldn't change anything, right?

Anakin leaned down at moved the hair out of her face, whispering 'thank you's' and how much he's thought about this. His lips trailed from her jaw and right near her lips. He looked back at her with permission, but she had that look in here eyes that said 'just take me' - so Anakin did that.

Their lips met softly, kissing passionately as Anakin held her face. The two friends moaned out softly so Anakin took that moment to slip his tongue out to graze against F/N's lips, she opened her mouth slightly and let Anakin taste her. The taste and sensation of F/N against him was overwhelming, he had never felt this turned on in his life.

Small moans left F/N's mouth as Anakin's hand moved down her shoulders now, teasing her as they neared her tits. Anakin could sense that she liked that so he moved his hands to her tits over her pyjama shirt, his hands groped her ever-so slightly which made F/N moan a bit louder in her mouth.

His hands trailed underneath her shirt, feeling her bare chest now with both his hands.

The scene in front of him was overwhelming when he moved away from her lips: her shirt tugged above her tits, hair sprawled and messy, and her face pink and flustered. Anakin stared at his hands and sighed, rubbing her chest again with his thumbs. "Fuck, I really just want to take you..." he whined out.

"Just take me, Ani."

And that's what they did.

Anakin and F/N were each other's first that night.

They continued as friends with benefits after that night.

Years had passed since then and Anakin was now a Jedi knight, he was still best friends with F/N but their relationship was slightly changed now. They were more intimate with each other. Anakin whined out F/N's name sadly, no one was in the room but he was hoping that she would arrive any minute. Just before he laid in bed, he called F/N and asked her to come over.

Five minutes had passed and Anakin heard a knock on the door, the man got up straight away and basically ran to the door. In front of him was his best friend, she was much more mature looking than the first time they were together and it drove Anakin to insanity, he loved her so much. "What's wrong, Ani? Are you okay?" F/N as she walked into the room, he shrugged and closed the door, sitting back down on his bed.

"I'm a Jedi knight and I feel scared," Anakin cried out, he covered his face with his hands and groaned, "I'm a failure of a Jedi knight; what is wrong with me?"

F/N sat down next to Anakin and sighed, placing a hand on his thigh, "You're gonna be fine, Ani. You're the best Jedi knight ever, Anakin. I know that you can do this, we'll make it out in the end." The brunette sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, feeling a lot more calm now.

"Thank you, F/N. I'm a bit embarrassed now," he confessed, looking to the side in embarrassment. This made F/N giggle, she laid down on Anakin's bed and looked over at him.

"We all get like that sometimes, it just makes us human."

Anakin shrugged and muttered an 'I suppose so' under his breath, he looked back up at F/N and frowned with that same need in his eyes. "I just need to get my mind off of it," Anakin mumbled. F/N knew this was a code for 'please just let me fuck you,' so she laughed and sat up.

"Oh, yeah? How so?" F/N teased.

The man pouted and sat up, "You know how..." Anakin muttered, he bit the inside of his cheek, annoyed about her teasing. F/N grinned and shifted close to Anakin, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"You just missed your best friend, didn't you?" F/N whispered into his ear, grinning still. Anakin let out a deep sigh and placed his larger hands over hers.

"Maybe..."

Anakin stared into her eyes and kissed her nose, "Just lay down, let me love you tonight," Anakin begged, rubbing his hands down her shoulders. F/N obeyed his command and laid down on her back, smiling as she kept her eye contact with Anakin. The Jedi groaned softly at the look in her eyes, he could tell that she wanted this just as much he wanted it.

His lips smashed against hers in almost an instant, a total opposite of the first time he made love with her.

They were a total horny mess.

F/N wrapped her legs around Anakin's waist, grinding herself onto the Jedi, which made him whine out loudly. His hands undressed her quite fast, removing his own clothes as well while they still made out. Saliva was dripping down their faces now as their lust for one another grew, Anakin's hands were all over F/N's body now, groping and slapping her tits as his mouth moves down to her clavicle. He couldn't help himself. Anakin bit small love bites on F/N's breasts which made the woman cry out.

"Hhgh, oh my fucking hell, Ani... it's so much!..." F/N whined out.

Anakin growled and sucked harder all over her chest, which started to look like a watercolour painting of purples and reds. "Just let me eat you out, precious," Anakin moaned out, he kept eye contact with F/N as he kissed further down her tummy, close to her aching cunt now. "Fuck, I can smell it from here," Anakin moaned out, looking down at her cunt now, "it smells so sweet and delicious, baby."

The Jedi pulled her panties down slowly but surely, "I love you," Anakin confessed, he wasn't even thinking at that moment as his tongue attached to her lips straight away. F/N's eyes widened both at the sudden feeling as well as Anakin's confession, not once during their 'situation' have they ever said 'I love you' to one another.

F/N covered her mouth with her hands and moaned out, Anakin's tongue was deep inside of her now, his arms over her thighs and his thumb rubbing her clit harshly. Anakin kept his pace up as he felt F/N's thighs squeezing his head, which further motived the Jedi. "It's too much, Ani!!" F/N sobbed out, she desperately tried to move away from Anakin, but his pace continued. He moved his mouth away from her pussy and he looked back up at F/N, he had two fingers inside of her now, squirming inside of her at a fast pace.

The look on Anakin's face was insatiable. He was just so insatiable.

A mixture of her cum and his spit were running down his mouth now, cheeks and mouth red, and his hair a mess. F/N wanted to kiss him so bad but she felt her orgasm nearing, she shook her head in pleasure, her knuckles were white as a ghost as she gripped the bedsheets tightly. F/N noticed that Anakin's hips would move as well, which definitely indicated that he was grinding into the bed this entire time.

"Fhuh... gonna c-cum, F/N?" Anakin asked, speech slurred from the bodily fluids coming out of his mouth, "P-Please just fucking cum all over me," Anakin moaned out and leaned forwards, his lips were sucking harshly on F/N's nipples. Pleasure wasn't even the right word for what the two friends were feeling right now, it was just so much overwhelming lust.

F/N nodded her head intensely, her hands moved to Anakin's back, holding him as close to her as she could. Her orgasm took over after that, she held her childhood friend close to her. Anakin kept fingering her after her orgasm, he needed to feel her wetness more. "S-Stop, Ani... too much," F/N cried out.

Anakin snapped back into reality for a second and looked up at F/N, tears were pouring down her face. "Oh fuck- I'm really sorry, F/N," Anakin had a slightly panicked face as he wiped her tears away, making F/N laugh a little.

"It's okay Anakin..." F/N replied back rubbing his cheek a little with her thumb, "now... how about I return the favour, yeah?" F/N asked, slowly switching positions with Anakin. The man was thanking the Makers in his head so much in  the moment, extremely turned on with F/N's fucked-out appearance: hair messy and cum dripping out of her cunt and onto the mattress.

F/N leaned down, she kissed Anakin's cheek before pulling off his boxers. She noticed just before she peeled it off that there was a huge wet stain at the front, making F/N giggle. When she took the undergarment off of him fully, she was taken aback at the size of his cock - despite having seen it multiple times.

"It just looks good every single time I see it," F/N confessed, making Anakin blush.

F/N adjusted herself onto her side now, she held his cock with her free hand and smiled, looking up at Anakin. Her mouth slowly dipped down to his cock, licking the tip with her tongue slowly and indulging the taste of his pre-cum. Anakin moved a hand down to her hair and gripped it gently, slowly guiding the woman and up down his cock.

She closed her eyes softly and indulged in the taste of his cock, bobbing her head at a faster pace now and sucking her cheeks in. Anakin could die a happy man right here and then, it was extremely overwhelming for him but he just needed her more and more. "Th-That's it... good fucking girl," Anakin praised, letting out a throaty growl.

This turned on F/N even more, her pace was even faster now which Anakin noticed. "Oh? You- You like when I praise you? You're such a good girl for me, you know just the right angle to fucking suck me off," Anakin paused to let out a loud moan as he could feel F/N's tongue on a prominent vein on his cock, "I'm gonna just cum so fucking hard in your mouth, sweet girl."

F/N needed this more than ever, her pace was unbelievably faster now. Anakin's legs were jittering now, his grip was tight on her hair as he basically forced her to suck him off. "Fucking hell.. aah fuck... I'm gonna cum-" Anakin's eyes shot wide as he orgasmed, eyes rolling backwards in pleasure as he shot his load down F/N's mouth.

The woman opened her eyes to look at Anakin, swallowing his cum quickly. She sat up and hovered over Anakin's cock, "I need to take you now, Ani," F/N whined out, she kissed Anakin's post-orgasm face and held his hard cock again, slowly sliding her cunt over it.

Both of them moaned in unison, overstimulated by their recent orgasms. Anakin's hands moved down to her waist, helping guide her down his raw cock, "You're so tight, my sweet girl, so unbelievably fucking good," Anakin moaned out, it was bad, he was starting to feel protective over her. "You're mine forever, got it? I own your fucking cunt, I own you."

F/N moaned in agreement, nodding her head fast and babbling yes underneath her breath. Anakin's hips thrusted up, trying hard to keep in time with the speed that F/N was bouncing on him.

The disgusting sound of squelching and bed-squeaking filled the room up.

This was the most intimacy any two people could ever be.

"I love you, F/N..." Anakin confessed again, he kissed her clavicle and cried out, "fuck I love you I love you I love you so much," Anakin pushed F/N over onto her back. F/N was taken aback and cried out because Anakin slipped out of her, he grabbed her hips and flipped her so that she was on her knees.

F/N whimpered out at the sudden action but allowed it to happened. Anakin was worshipping her at this point, pressing kisses all over her legs and up to her ass, giving it one last kiss before getting up on his knees, thrusting his cock back into F/N's cunt. F/N hands grabbed the sheets almost in an instant and whined out, eyes closed in pleasure, Anakin fucking her from behind.

His hands gripped her ass tightly, smacking it harshly and trying to reach his rush his orgasm. "Ooouhh, oh fuck-" Anakin leaned down, his head resting on F/N's back, "gonna cum so deep inside you, 'kay? My perfect girl I'm gonna fucking cum in your perfect body."

F/N nodded, feeling her own orgasm arriving as soon as he spoke up, her body shook and a drawn-out moan left her mouth as she came.

Soon after, Anakin came as well, he held F/N as close as he could to his own body, letting out the loudest moan that echoed through the room. The feeling of her warm cunt was so intriguing for Anakin, he loved the feeling of his warm cum inside of her. A minute passed and he finally moved, he slowly slid out of F/N's cunt, which made her whimper. Anakin looked over and saw that F/N was basically asleep, he chuckled to himself and helped her lay on her back.

"Did you mean that before, Ani?" F/N asked as she leaned her head onto Anakin's chest, "That... That you loved me?" Anakin looked down at her and smiled a little, a small blush on his face.

"O-Oh yeah uhm... I really do like you a lot, F/N," Anakin muttered, "I've always been too afraid to tell you, since I thought you just saw me as a friend."

F/N snorted and lightly punched his chest, "Oh my Maker, Anakin, I think I've had a crush on you since I was like... thirteen." Anakin hummed and held her close.

"Well, I'm happy that you're only mine now."

"I've always been yours."

[anakinca]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT

Anakin AU where’s Shmi is still alive and Anakin is in college with reader and he had never brought a girl home and for the first time he bring her with him for dinner. And she get along so well with his mother and Anakin is just blushing the whole time.

Fic or not, but this has been in my mind for too long.

(based on a real event where my younger sister brought her gf home)

—❝fit so seamlessly❞

modern au!anakin skywalker x reader

tw ; nothing, just pure fluff

a/n ; GUYS IM SORRY I KEEP FORGETTING TO DO REQUESTS😭 i literally am dying in a spiral of writers block and im DYING OF SICKNESS RN SIGHHH. but anyways.. i LOVEDDD THIS PROMPT AND I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING IT. hope u enjoy this, angels <33

THE FIRST TIME ANAKIN BRINGS YOU HOME TO MEET HIS MOM, HE’S NEVER BEEN SO NERVOUS IN HIS LIFE. Which is ridiculous. He’s a grown man and he’s in college. He’s faced high-pressure exams, late-night study sessions fueled by way too much caf, and a near-death experience trying to fix his own car’s engine. And yet, standing outside the small apartment door with you at his side, his palms are sweating like he’s twelve again. You, on the other hand, seem completely at ease, rocking on your heels as you glance up at him with a grin. “You’re acting like you’re bringing me home to a mob boss.” You tease him, rolling your eyes playfully. Anakin huffs and glares at you, even as his lips twitch at the corners. He shifts the bag of fruit he brought for his mom to his other hand nervously. “It’s not that. It’s just… I’ve never brought anyone home before.” Your grin softens then, something warm flickering in your eyes. “Well, I’m honored to be your first.” He swallows. Hard. Because that sentence should not make his brain short-circuit the way it just did. But before he can embarrass himself further, the door swings open, and there she is—Shmi Skywalker. She’s small, but she has this presence, this warmth that instantly makes you feel like you’ve walked into the safest place in the world. Her dark hair is streaked with gray, her smile soft and her warm brown eyes twinkling with affection as she immediately pulls Anakin into a tight hug.

He sinks into it without hesitation, burying his face against her shoulder for just a second, because no matter how old he gets, he’ll always be her son.

You stand watching with a smile, the way his shoulders relax—the way he looks like he can breathe again—makes your heart warm.

Then she pulls back, her gaze flickering to you.

And suddenly, Anakin is sweating again.

“Mom,” he says, clearing his throat. “This is—” But before he can even finish introducing you, Shmi’s already pulling you into a hug too. “Oh, sweetheart,” she says, her voice warm and full of nothing but love. “I’ve heard so much about you.” You blink in surprise before easily melting into the embrace, feeling all giddy inside. “All good things, I hope.” Shmi pulls back just enough to give Anakin a look. “He never shuts up about you.” She chuckles, pulling back to place her hands on your arms, her eyes crinkling with her smile. He wants to die. Right then and there. Just drop dead in the entryway. You, of course, find this hilarious, shooting him a teasing grin as you turn your head to look at him. “Really, Anakin? Didn’t know you were such a talker.” He groans, running a hand down his face as his mother laughs—actually laughs at his suffering. “I—okay, inside. Everyone inside,” he mutters, already pushing you both through the doorway before he collapses on the spot. And it only gets worse from there. Because dinner? Yeah. You and his mom get along instantly.You’re helping set the table before Shmi can even tell you to sit, and when she asks about school, you answer like you’ve known her forever. You listen to her stories with actual interest, laughing at the way she talks about Anakin’s childhood, nodding like you already knew about all his quirks as a kid.

And Anakin? He’s just sitting there, blushing, because this is new. He’s never had this before. Never had someone fit so seamlessly into his life, someone who just belongs at his table, in his space, with his family. And you do. It makes his heart swell with pure and utter love for you, feeling like he’s truly found the one who’s for him.

And he doesn’t know what to do with that.

At some point, Shmi excuses herself to grab dessert, leaving just the two of you at the table.

You glance over at Anakin, smiling softly at the dazed look on his face. “You okay there, Skywalker?” He blinks and clears his throat, trying to pretend he hasn’t just been sitting there like some kind of lovesick idiot for the past hour. “Yeah,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just… you and my mom.” You raise an eyebrow, cocking your head to the side with a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “What about us?” “I don’t know.” He exhales, shaking his head slightly. “You just—fit.” You blink at him, surprised by the honesty in his voice, the way his words settle over you like a quiet, unspoken truth. And then, because you can’t help yourself—because he’s adorable when he’s flustered—you grin. “So, when’s the wedding?” And Anakin chokes on his glass of water while you giggle to yourself.

@thesassypadawan @anakinstwinklebunny @sydkneez @dessxoxsworld @nikiloveshayden @sweetcheesecakesblog @throughparisallthroughrome

let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the tag list, angels <3

[kingnlionhearts]

✧ exile (what a ghostly scene)

. *. ⋆ Anakin / Vader x Reader

summary: you were bail organa’s ward, raised on alderaan with your younger sister. in the twilight of the clone war, you and anakin fell in love. when the war died, it dragged you and anakin to early graves with it — leaving only darth vader behind. even after years without you, he still wants you back. and there is nothing he would not do to bring you back to him. . .

tags: angst, tragic romance, suitless vader, no y/n, gn reader, inspired by the 2020 vader comics & vader immortal, past major character death, mourning, vader needs a hug, resurrection

note: my first reader/second person fic — i’m sorry if the tense is bad ajsjwjwjqjq. i’ve had this in my drafts for soooo long and i finally decided to finish it 🫶

word count: 1k

part 1 of 4

The stars have died, fizzling out into oblivion. All that remains is a charcoal heart that once belonged to Anakin Skywalker.

The boy from Tatooine is unreachable now, trapped inside the twisted soul of Darth Vader. The galaxy’s beloved Hero With No Fear is gone. With the rise of the Empire, the Jedi and their sympathisers will be erased from memory. A clean slate to start a new era.

Three years after the creation of the Empire, Darth Vader stands alone. His tower on Mustafar is isolating; its strategic position is a constant reminder of that day. His injuries still hurt sometimes: phantom itches on his now metal legs; scars from his burns that did not fully heal. The medical droids say he is lucky — the fire could have done more serious damage, and he could have been forced to rely on a suit keeping him alive for the rest of his days. Instead, the ebony coloured mask and suit he wears are to conceal his identity. A precaution so that Anakin Skywalker can fade from people’s tongues and memory, leaving the tyranny of Darth Vader in its place.

The weight of his failures is not the heaviest burden. Darth Vader drowns in his anger and grief. He was not strong enough to kill Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was not strong enough to save you.

(All things die. Even stars burn out.)

You were the stars in his sky, his light in the dark, the silvery moon to his blazing sun. So tender and kind. Perhaps your heart was too good for this world. Perhaps, it was your weakness all along. (How could peace ever love a dragon?)

Since you met, you had been Anakin’s sun. You anchored him; guided him home. You were his destiny. And, without you, the galaxy had turned cold. The fiery world outside, all hot air and lava fields, only stood as a reminder of his failure. He’d lost you. After everything Anakin had tried — surrendering himself to the dark side, betraying the light — he could not save you. Time had not quelled the pain.

Vader wonders if you would still recognise him. His copper hair has grown longer (he remembers how you used to cut it for him after he returned from another mission, and you’d giggle as you braided thin locks together), but his face hides behind an obsidian mask. You always loved the blue of Anakin’s eyes, but now they are blazing amber.

Mornings are the only time Vader allows himself to dwell on the past. It is when he finds himself alone and does not have to hide.

Vader recalls how you arrived on Mustafar like it was yesterday. (You haunt him every waking moment.) He could sense your conflicted emotions as soon as you disembarked your ship. Vader wasted no time approaching you, drawing you into his arms (where you belonged; where you were safe). His lips reconnected with yours, fitting together like puzzle pieces as he kissed you hungrily, his hands settled on your hips to keep you close.

You and Anakin had met after turning nineteen. He and Obi-Wan were called to Alderaan to protect the Queen and Viceroy from an assassination attempt. Being their ward, you had been there the whole time and quickly formed a connection with the young padawan — your relationship had blossomed during the Clone Wars.

He rested his forehead against yours as you spoke. “I heard terrible things. Tell me none of it is true.”

Vader hadn’t replied immediately and instead drew his head back to look at you. He would tell you any sweet lie if he needed to as he fought to quell the anger flaring in his eyes. “What have you been told?”

“Obi-Wan told me—”

Vader’s grasp around you tightened protectively. “Obi-Wan is alive?”

“He said you’d killed Jedi. Killed younglings.”

“You must not believe him, my love. He’s a traitor.”

It wasn’t the answer you sought, and you took a step backwards out of your husband’s grasp. “What have you done?”

“I did this for you. To save you.” He cupped your chin in his flesh hand and whispered your name. “I love you.”

Your eyes trained into his. There was no denial, no remorse in his stature; his only regret was letting Obi-Wan tell you anything.

He repeated his words. “I did this for you.”

From the shadows of your cloak, you drew a blaster. Only a small, weak thing. Vader watched your hands tremble. He did admire your courage. “Fix this,” you demanded. “Please,” you begged.

Anger flickered in Vader’s eyes. He had never seen you unimpressed with him. With an easy glide of his hand, Vader used the Force to knock the blaster out of your grip and pin your arms by your sides

“I am stronger than the Chancellor now,” he explained desperately, drawing you to his side. “I can overthrow him. Then you and I can be together; we can run away — just like you always wanted to.”

(But you didn’t. He lost you. Some might call you a traitor — Vader maintains that you were misguided.)

Three years later, regret still festers inside Vader’s hollow soul. There must have been a way to save you.

He misses you endlessly: craving your touch and the sound of your voice. (There is nothing Vader desires more than to have you back in his arms.)

Part of him wants to forget. To cast his memories of you into an abyss; to put the past behind him. But it is an impossible task. You are too well tangled into his soul. You haunt him. (And you’ll haunt him until his death.)

Today, there is no time to focus on you. A new morning brings meetings and training. You were Anakin’s Achilles Heel — but Darth Vader shows no such weakness. As Vader sits on his throne, reading over mission logs and other updates from the spread of the Empire across the galaxy, he receives a message: he must make his return to Coruscant immediately. (Your memory pulls him under the ocean again until he can no longer breathe.)

[phoenixyfriend]

Something something Dooku survives the Clone Wars, the Imperial Era, and even a few years past the OT...

And Luke finds him while looking for More Jedi to help him teach.

Chewie recognizes the decrepit old bastard, and there is yelling, but being A Hundred And Nine has mellowed Dooku out in his own dusty hermit hut, on the other side of the galaxy from Ben and Yoda's hermit huts.

All the Jedi ghosts are unhappy with this but Dooku is… not REFORMED, technically, but he's old and tired, even if the Force keeps him a bit more healthy and energized than the average Old Guy, and humans routinely live to pretty unreal old ages in the gffa anyway so really 109 for them is probably like 85 for us.

But yeah. Old mountain hermit (to contrast the desert and the swamp) who's been in hiding from That Dick Sidious since he lost both hands to babyface Vader in 19BBY.

@jebiknights (Sammie) said:

Dooku finds out Luke was also trained by Yoda and is like "oh Yoda finally gave me a younger brother like I always wanted"

Alternately he could probably get Luke to call him Great-Great-Grandfather.

Sammie: Funniest option is he's both which makes Luke even more confused lmao Ghost Obi wan in the background like "stop fucking using non Jedi terms to describe Jedi relationships it doesn't fucking work"

Luke calls him, irreverently, Gramps, but also. Leia definitely recognizes him as a Recent Historic Political Figure, but not until AFTER Luke has already integrated Dooku into his new Jedi school.

"Why did Chewie let him do that?" He thought it was funny. (And/or if you like Chewku, you can make this some sordid exes thing.)

"Why did R2 let him do that?" Best keep evil man in electrical prodding range.

Sammie: Leia comes to the school for her biweekly Jedi lessons and sees the newest teacher was a traitor to the Republic 😭

Best if they can find Quin or Ventress out in the black. Partly because like. Does this make Ventress their step-grandma (Quinlan's on-off something) or their great-great-aunt (Dooku's 4th apprentice)?

Sammie: Both and also Luke's niece. Luke has a migraine by the end of it and Leia is ready to disown herself. Ventress: I didn't realize the Jedi were so incestuous Luke: war flashbacks to before he realized Leia was his sister

Ahsoka in the corner with Spacebucks, five years late "Y'all suck. Hey, Quin."

Sammie: I know you likely didn't bring up Quinlan thinking of QuinObi but now I'm imagining Quinlan declaring himself their grandpa when he meets the twins bc 1) he loves to cause chaos 2) he does/did consider Anakin his kid even if not in neat non Jedi terms and 3) Obi-Wan thought being considered Anakin's father made him sound old, and Quinlan needs to harass him beyond the grave

Dooku must have a cane that the ghosts heckle him about because He Clearly Wants To Be Just Like Yoda.

@lyntergalactic (Lyn) said:

I feel like evil gramps could really bring out Ahsoka's snark once she shows up and that would be highly entertaining Ahsoka is simultaneously his most and least favorite grandchild

She's the most experienced as a Jedi (Ventress went full Sith, not just leaving the Order but following the tenets like Ahsoka, and Quinlan isn't in the lineage), has never Fallen unless you count that thing on Mortis.

Also she WILL bitch Dooku out at this age, and honestly he kind of appreciates the brutal honesty.

Ahsoka: I'm not a Jedi. All the old people: Lies

She brings up the Hondo incident since nobody else is putting in the effort. Anakin and Obi-Wan COULD as ghosts but nooooooo she has to do everything around here.

Sammie: Oh but it sets them off so hard they can barely get the story off from laughing NGL I think the twins did not understand how truly annoying Obi-Wan and Anakin could be together until the Hondo story gets told.

They are The Worst.

[skywalkoverme]

"𝐂𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧" 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 9

a/n: I'm bad at summaries sorry lol

Series Masterlist

𐙚 Anakin Skywalker x Fem! Reader 𐙚 18+ MDNI

Summary: Anakin confesses.

Warnings/contains: dom! male, dom! fem, Enemies to lovers, sexual situations, some lore etc, anakin likes you! (finally), some angst, more to come as the series goes on etc, proof read-- but english is not my first language!

Word Count: 1.5k // More on my Master list! + follow & reblog pls

When the two returned to the Palace, you were by the large fountain with your younger sister on your lap. The young girl mocked your hand as it flowed through the water, creating large ripples. She swam her hands around in the basin of the fountain, giggling as the fishes swam to her. The Jedi stood in the massive doorway that led outside, watching as you moved hair from your face. “Hm…It’s time for bed.” The girl frowned at the Jedi and hugged you around your neck. “Run along.” She ran past the two men and into the palace.

You stood from the ledge of the fountain, your hands clasped as you turned to face the Jedi. This all felt like Déjà vu to the two while you stood there in the moonlight; it’s cool light embraced your navy hair and cerulean skin. The sound of waves on the shore and hollow wind in their ears. “I want to thank you for your help. In the city’s main hospital, your clones are being tended to. I must say, we lost a great many lives, but It was not in vain. For that, I thank you.” You bowed to the two men.

“You’re very welcome, your highness.” Anakin remained quiet and bowed with his master. “I have a question.”

“Yes?”

“Down in the Ruins, I lost my way, but we found a few things. Paintings.”

“What did you find?” You asked, your gaze switched between the two men. Anakin couldn’t bring himself to talk, to support Obi-wan or even look you in the eyes. “Please, tell me.” Anakin knew you were speaking to him, but he couldn’t open his mouth.

“A few paintings of a woman that looks just like you. That and Jedi from this planet.”

“That’s impossible. We’ve never had child force sensitive enough to become one.” Obi-wan brought his hologram chip to you, a photo of the painting itself. “Oh my…”

Obi-wan thought it over for a second before deciding not to interrogate you. After all, this planet is large, there’s no doubt that something like a temple could be forgotten so easily. Perhaps the painting really was of your ancestor. Regardless, the battle is over, and they would need to return to Coruscant soon. “Perhaps consider excavating the site. There was a lot of good artifacts there.”

“In our culture, it’s best to leave things be. Erden will take what she wants and leave out all the rest.”

“Of course, we understand.”

“You both, as well as your clones, are welcome to stay for as long as you like.” Anakin couldn’t focus. Words sound beautiful when they came from your lips; he floats on every vowel in a pool of your voice. “…your rooms are still made up if you’d like to stay.” Anakin nodded.

“I suppose we will stay until all the clones are healed.” Your hands clasped and you smiled, “Good night, your highness.”

“Good night, Jedi.” Obi-wan left and returned to his chambers. Anakin lingered by the doors, his eyes on your hair as it flowed in the wind. The strands cusped around your curves and reached down to your knees. You didn’t mind as he watched you, “Is there something you need?”

“…I want to stay.” You nodded and glanced at the room’s exit. “No, I mean, I want to know what’s happening here. I want to stay.”

“There is nothing bad happening on Erden. Not anymore.”

He winced as you held back, “I saw it with my own eyes! There are Jedi from this planet. Call it Erden, I don’t care but I want to know!”

“There is nothing here for you any longer, Jedi.” His heart ached in his chest when he heard that.

“Nothing?” You wore a sad smile. “Nothing?” He held the door with his hand. All of this over the course of these few days meant nothing? Of course, he was an asshole to you as you were to him, but you mean to tell him that all of it meant nothing? “You. You’re here.”

“Of course, I am. I am the Queen.”

“Right, the Queen of Erden.”

“All I’ve done, it has been for my people, my planet.”

“I’ve heard you say that plenty of times.” He stepped to you. “I cannot rest until I get answers.”

“Then the night will be long.” You said as you walked past him and into the hall. “I cannot permit you to stay, jedi. My people aren’t the kindest to Jedi.”

“That explains your…daughter?”

“My sister and she simply dislikes men.”

“That’s fair.” He stopped you in the hall by your wrist. “Can we actually talk? A real conversation, not this ghostly whisper.” You looked at the doors that led to your quarters. “You’re acting differently…Speak to me, Y/n.” He refused to let go of your wrist.

“Everything you want to know, you can find in the library.”

“You’re not in the library. You’re right here.” He said and softened his grip on your wrist. “I won’t force you but If it means anything, I’m begging.” You stood against him in the hallway and placed your right hand over his that grabbed your left wrist. His palm began to sweat as your calm gaze fell on his. The open palace allowed a cool amount of airflow throughout the halls. The only light belonged to the moon as you guided him down the hall. His feet moved on their own, his gaze on the back of your head and your white dress.

“If I tell you what I can, will you go home?”

Anakin sat with you on the sofa. Your body sunk into the cushions with him, his hand between yours. “To Coruscant?” He looked at your hands and back at you. “…I don’t know if I can.” He watched your expression, to this moment, unreadable. You leaned forward onto him and hugged around his neck.

Your body heat mixed with his. He could no longer tell who was burning up, you or him. His nose buried in your silky hair and against your neck; the scent is delightful, powdery and sweet like the center bud of a peony. His right arm wrapped around your waist and brought you closer to him. The shape of your body fit like a puzzle in his hands, he refused to let go. “You kept your promises from the day we first met.”

“Yeah? What did I say?”

“I’ll fight your battles, organize your military.” You said, mocking his deeper voice. The man chuckled.

“I did make that promise. And you gave me my lightsaber.”

“You took it back but sure.”

“I didn’t think you minded.” You were relaxed on his body and allowed him to hold your weight. “Besides, I needed it.”

“I can feel it.” You said as his solid hilt pressed on you. He swift took if off his belt and placed it on the table. “Aren’t you scared of accidentally turning it on and…hurting yourself?”

“I used to do that a lot. I’d burn the tips of my fingers, a hole in my clothes, that sort of thing.” You smiled as you imagined him as a teen, fumbling with his lightsaber. All he could focus on was that you didn’t pull away from this hug. As the minutes went by, you stayed in his arms, tucked softly against him.

His fingers found yours; fingertips ran down your palm, slow like a thick sweetener. Before enveloping your fist in his clutch, the man kissed your purple markings. “I think we will be good friends.”

Anakin shook his head and pulled slightly from you, “Don’t say that. Don’t say there’s nothing for me here either.”

“One day and one day soon, you must leave.”

His eyes pricked with tears, “I don’t want to!”

You stared at his hand that clutched yours and brought you close against him. “I’ll remember you, Anakin Skywalker, fondly, that is.” He twists a ring on your fingers and brought it up to the first knuckle. Anakin twirled the sides of the ring around your soft skin. “I know what you’re thinking. I want you to leave.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I want you to go back to Coruscant. Find a wife and continue your journey.” He shook his head.

“I’m not leaving you.” His eyes traveled the valley of your face, each delicate feature of your body down to the ring on your toe, “Read my mind right now and tell me what I feel.” His chest shook as he breathed, each exhale more nervous than the last. Your eyes shut and you synced your breath with his; you rested in his excitement and fear. Each heartbeat rang loudly in your ears. Anakin’s eyes closed when your kiss met his lips. His head sunk back onto the sofa armrest and your bodies became one. He felt himself sink into your skin, your heart in his chest, your tongue lapped over his. He grew drunk off the sweet taste and lay within you.

a/n: Next chapter is just a full sex scene lol. You all deserve it! <3

Taglist from Series Masterlist: Interact with Series Masterlist to be added <3

@luxylya @kaggelagge @larapipa @woow-ies @90wasthebesttimeever @vvsdiamond28 @thescxrpio @thequenue @stanyuqisworld @ruggerosbaeeee @santinstar @cherrylvrsworld @biancaa03 @blniight @lunacurlclaw @citrinebeez @joanagaray08 @soffthours @devlovesbooks @angie2274 @suckitandsee4 @cerise151cherie @adorable-introvert @nitesnchocolate @pisces-triple @starr60 @silkandcologne @shebreathedherlast @malinadbbdh @literalbabydoll @boydepartment @xhino3 @bbbbbbxxghj @clairethecloowny @mattandchrissgirl @brokenbellz @brokenbellz @txriss @rebelatbay @multifandom456 @fawninthesnow @lortheswiftie @col1eenlyn @blazingmiraclecipher @heyy-lei @bettysgardenswift @soldierheart @isa942572 @tenseoyong @obsessed-420 @f1girliesstuff

sorry if i missed you!

[religionlost]

── 𝗕𝗢𝗧 𝗗𝗨𝗠𝗣 © 𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗗𝗢𝗙𝗦𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗦 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟱

notes ⋆.˚ ☾ the majority of these bots have already been up for quite some time, but I figured I'd include them since this is my first real post here on tumblr. I no longer write for the boys, but here is a link to my requests if you're interested! if any of the links don't work, you can find my c.ai @/swanblood

AEMOND TARGARYEN

"they call her mad." in which during the fight that cost Aemond his eye, his little sister jumped in to defend him. the two suffered unchangeable fates that night, though his sister lost much more than just an eye - her sanity.

RHAENYRA TARGARYEN

"firstborn's guilt." in which, as Rhaenyra's oldest child, you carry great burdens on your shoulders. it is your responsibility to protect your younger siblings, so what happens when you fail them? you blame yourself for Lucerys's death.

ANAKIN SKYWALKER

"his new padawan." in which Anakin is assigned a new padawan to train after Ahsoka departs from the jedi order. the lines between right and wrong blur when he finds himself growing closer to you. Anakin is torn between his duty to the order, and his own feelings. (old bot)

"the fallen angel." in which Anakin falls to the dark side, blinded by Palpatine's manipulation. you visit him on Mustafar, where you see the man you once loved has turned into a practical stranger. Anakin tries to convince you to join his path.

BILLY BUTCHER

"you lost control." in which, during a mission, you lost control of your supe powers. the outcome was bloody and gruesome, and Billy certainly isn't happy with you. (old bot)

BLACK NOIR

"vought party." in which you're in the unfortunate situation of being forced to participate in one of vought's parties. it's only natural, since you're a supe and all, but the attention you're getting from a patron is clearly making you uncomfortable. noir notices and comes to your rescue - your knight in black armor. (old bot)

HOMELANDER

"for the cameras." in which ever since you joined the seven, you were adored by the media. you quickly became a fan favorite, and Homelander did not appreciate you soaking up his spotlight. in an impulsive move to get the attention back on himself, he announces your "relationship." (old bot)

SOLDIER BOY

"old friends." in which, after being freed, soldier boy comes looking for you, one of his former teammates. (old bot)

"sidekick." in which vought thought it'd be a good idea to give soldier boy his own sidekick. however, that quickly proves to be a bad decision when training doesn't go as planned. (old bot)

"hunted down." in which soldier boy tracks you down on an act of revenge, hoping to find answers about what really went down the day the Russian took him. (old bot)

"babysitter." in which Butcher leaves you alone to watch over soldier boy. it quickly feels more like you're baby sitting an overgrown child, instead of a fully grown man. (old bot)

"he's hallucinating." in which, during the trek through the woods to get to mindstorm, soldier boy starts hallucinating.

THE DEEP

"he's just ken." in which you're the brand new superstar of the seven. with so many opportunities, you're constantly in the limelight, while he's just... there. (old bot)