Star Wars Guys x Reader

Something Else: Anakin Skywalker x Reader

A/N: requested by pokititos - holaaaaa qué tal?

Warnings: kissing, fighting, mace window, we don't Jedi order in this house,

Word count: 1360

You hate Anakin Skywalker.

Okay, so maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration. You strongly dislike him. He's too arrogant, too cocky and bold and yet somehow, infuriatingly, he still manages to pull off the bullshit that he tries. It's ridiculous, the way he can work his surroundings to his will, how he can duel you, the padawan of Mace Windu, who is probably the best fighter on the Council, and come far too close to beating you.

And worse, he's a dramatic, whiny, attention seeker, always kicking up a fuss about something or other that everyone else has to deal with. Maker, look at him striding around in his black robes, standing out from the rest; he must think he's so special.

You scowl as he circles you in the ring, lightsaber held at the ready. In this stance, he looks almost like his Master, and with his mouth shut, he's almost handsome. Almost. Well, maybe a little bit, with the azure blue glow of his lightsaber bathing his face, painting his features and bringing out the clear blue of his eyes - eyes which are trained on you, boring into your own with too much insight. A knowing smirk quirks at the corner of his mouth, and you find yourself checking that your mental walls are still up, that he hasn't entered your thoughts and discovered you obsessing over his face, over the dimples that curve softly in his cheeks and the gentle bow of his lips.

Suddenly, you become terribly aware of the two Masters to your right, one leaning against the wall, a smile in his gaze and his hair slicked back in a mullet, the other standing tall and straight, his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed in a slight frown. Both have their lightsabers clipped to their belts, silent as they watch you and Anakin circle each other.

Anakin is waiting for a sign of weakness or distraction in your steely eyes; you are waiting for Anakin to get bored and attack. You've fought against him enough to know that you can draw him in by making him think he can break through your defence in the beginning, and from then on you can use the various techniques Master Windu has taught you and your own cunning to break through the blows he flurries down on you and win.

The air crackles with a sort of tension that only occurs between you and Anakin. Maybe it's because the two of you are both competitive, both hell bent on beating the other, or maybe it's something else. Something which you really shouldn't be thinking about with two Jedi Masters in the room.

You catch the moment where Anakin's eyes narrow, when his left foot shifts slightly on the tiled floor, and duck to the side a second before he leaps forward.

Cursing heartily, he skids to a halt and whirls around, nose scrunched in a snarl as he lunges forward to collide with you, his lightsaber flashing and humming in the same way his Force signature seems to when he's around you.

Twirling the metal hilt in your fingers, you take one pace backwards, letting no indication of your next move leak into your eyes. Lazily, you change the lightsaber from your right hand to your left, flashing him a teasing sneer as if to say, is this the best you can do?

He scowls, and something stirs in his eyes, something that isn't anger. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Master Windu and Master Kenobi glance at each other, their voices lowered as the speak together, gesturing towards the two of you and nodding. Eventually, Master Kenobi points to the doors, and your own Master nods. You don't let your concentration slip as they exit, their footsteps noiseless on the mute tiles.

You know Anakin has noticed, but he does not say a word, instead doubling the strength of his attack. Grimacing, you block the blows he rains down on you, the force of them vibrating through you fingers and down the bones in your wrist; you're made to grip your lightsaber in two hands in order to absorb the collisions, and the devilish grin that spreads across his face only shows that he's aware he's got you on the defensive.

Inwardly, you curse. This is not going well, because while the stare of your Master on your back brings you confidence, the absence of both of their presences seems to send power rippling through his limbs: he adjusts his stance, sending faster and faster jabs at your weakest points, until suddenly he sticks a foot out just as you take another step back, and you're falling -

He catches you with an arm around your waist, twirling you so your back is to his chest. Dipping his head, you feel the way his gaze smoulders as he brings his lightsaber to your neck and his lips to your ear.

'Looks like you'll have to yield, gorgeous.'

A chill ripples down your spine. He's never spoken to you like this, he's never been this close, he's never been... so obvious. Heat blooms across your face, half from rage, half from something else, and you drive your elbow back into his stomach. Grabbing his wrist, you knock his lightsaber out of his hand and use the Force to throw it away, letting it skitter across the floor and igniting your own, spinning around and levelling it with his throat.

'C'mon, gorgeous,' Anakin grins. 'This is hardly fair.'
You huff. 'Fine, then.'

Hurling your lightsaber away, you dive at him, tackling him ariund the waist and bringing you both to the floor. You're aware that this is where you are vulnerable; he's stronger and taller than you, but the need to beat him and that something else keep you going, keep you grappling with him as you take turns to throw and deflect punches.

And then suddenly the Force flares up inside him, and you're pinned to the floor, his fingers trapping your hands above your head. He straddles you, and his triumphant grin falls away as he really begins to realise his position, something else taking its place. Your breath hitches, his own catching in his throat, and you want to hide your face from him, you want to withdraw into yourself, to let the tiled floor swallow you up, because that feeling inside of you, that something else wells up in an unstoppable tide.

You're not supposed to feel things this strongly.

You need a way out of this.

Forcing yourself to go limp, you relax into the tiled ground, and the grip on your wrists loosens minutely. With a snarl on your lips, you wrench out of his grasp, simultaeneously twisting your hips and bucking him off you, using the Force to aid you as you hurl him against the wall - the air puffs from his lungs, and he braces himself against the large stone blocks a moment, trying to regain his breath. Narrowing you eyes, you take a step forward, mind racing as you scrutinise your next move, trying to finalise the action will leave you with the best victory.

Suddenly, invisible hands grab the front of your tunic, and your feet scramble for purchase on the treacherously smooth floor. You struggle, lashing out with the Force, but he's too strong; you can feel the raw power emnating from him, the strength in his eyes, swirled in with that ever present something else.

There's no stopping him.

So, instead, you halt your struggles and instead completely let go, sending you flying forward and straight into your arms. Awkwardly, your face comes far too close to his, your lips just brushing his own, and you desperately ignore the fire shooting down your spine and the way your stomach flips to the beat of your thrumming heart. Anakin catches you around the waist, and he too is blushing, his cheeks dusted a soft, sunset like rose pink.

'Draw?' Anakin asks, breathless.
'Draw,' you confirm.

When he dips his head to kiss you again, you don't protest, don't think, just enjoy this something else.