Hurt Me | By : paint-it-red Category: Star Wars (All) > Het - Male/Female Views: 5104 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, or any associated characters. I’m not making money from this fic. |
The door to the room slid open with a cool swoosh of air. You heard him walking; wet boots angrily hitting the floor as their wearer stomped inside. You were not hidden; rather, you were seated attentively on the arm of a very plain sofa— but the room was very dark, and you knew that you could not be seen, at least not with human eyes. You’d been here for hours by now, waiting, and listening to the rain outside.
A rustle now; the sound of water droplets hitting the floor as a soaking, cloaked figure marched over to a table not far from the door. Just sitting and breathing, you watched the tall, imposing form raise a fist and use it to smash clear through the top of the wooden surface.
The sound of the wood suddenly giving way to fury combined in the air with a throaty, brief wail of either pain or anger— you really could not be sure. This was when you stood, and were immediately noticed in spite of the enveloping darkness. The figure’s shoulders twisted around suddenly and urgently; he raised his arm and light swelled in the room. It was soft, but all-encompassing, and your presence was now fully revealed.
You stayed where you were and quietly studied the man you’d been sent for. A dark spectre, tall and broad— as he whipped off his hood to confront you, you were nearly paralyzed by both beauty and energy.
His eyes were points of rage; nearly glowing, and damp blonde locks of hair stuck to his forehead and caressed the sides of his angular, handsome face. Lips that on anyone else might have looked sweet, were here contorted into a ferocious scowl. Scars and lines from training and turmoil lended a tortured, wisened quality to the youthful beauty you’d been promised.
He stared daggers at you for what felt like many, many moments and then finally, in a husky growl, “Who are you? What are you doing in my quarters?”
Cautious but eager, you answered, “I was told you needed me.”
“Needed you?” He sounded offended.
“Yes,” you said, “What happened with Padme...” A gloved hand clenched into a fist and something in the room— I didn’t know what— shattered. He said nothing, so I continued, “She’s afraid you’ll hurt her...”
He pulled his overcloak off entirely, leaving it discarded on the floor with a wet thump. He was still broad and imposing without it, particularly for his young age, and he became more threatening as he stepped heavily toward you. He was clad in a black tunic and pants now; leather belt and gloves snaking around his waist and arms; lightsaber hanging at his side.
“Get out.” The words dripped heavily with disdain, but you stood your ground. You had not come here electively, although you acknowledged you were perfect for this job. No matter how intimidating the chaos written on young Anakin Skywalker’s face, you knew you were not going anywhere. Not, at least, until you’d followed through with your intentions.
You stared at the confused Jedi’s eyes, smouldering and frenzied. “I’m here to help, Ani,” you said. “I can help you keep her safe.”
“She is safe. Leave.” Tangled blonde tendrils of hair just barely brushed his shoulders; they were the only thing on him that betrayed the slightest tremor. You watched the odd drop of water fall from a few loose strands of hair; some went down his neck and slithered under the collar of his tunic.
You widened your eyes with disingenuous concern. “I don’t think she is, Anakin.” You stepped forward to close off the remaining distance between the two of you. “Why don’t you put your time apart from her to good use?”
He drew up his shoulders; somehow seemed taller. “What are you talking about?” He appeared ready to strike you.
“You hurt that man,” you continued coolly. “She was so scared...” I shook my head at this. “You have hurt many men... but you would never want to hurt her, would you?”
He grunted and turned his back to you. “I would never hurt her; she’s mine. Get out, now.”
Drawing in a breath, you placed a hand on his shoulder... and that did it. He whipped around with impossible speed, and suddenly you were tasting copper and seeing stars as the back of Anakin’s hand— the bionic one, judging by its force— met the side of your face with a sick crack.
You remained standing and staring, and you then dared to muster the tiniest of smiles. This was, after all, perfect.
Suddenly another sharp smack; more stars and more blood, as he hit the other side of your face, this time with his palm. He was quiet now, but you could tell that every part of him was willing you away. So much of this poor young man truly did not wish to be this way... but he was, and that was that.
Since he was facing you again, you put a hand on his chest and caught his eye with yours. A tiny amount of blood pooled in the corner of your lip, so you touched your fingers to it and held the stained digits out for Anakin to look at.
“Don’t you see? Look at this.” You pulled the bloody fingers away from his face and you licked them clean. “Don’t do this to her...”
For a millisecond, tangible fear spread over his face, likely at the thought of striking his beloved. In a newly measured voice, he asked you, “What are you suggesting I do to protect her?” He knew he was dangerous.
“I’m here for you to hurt me, Anakin.” Both your hands now rested on his chest.
“I—“ he peered down at you, disgusted and frightened and perhaps intrigued.
“Hurt me.” You softened your gaze. “Hurt me, so you don’t hurt her.” This you nearly purred, and you felt his breath hitch in his chest through the rough fabric of his tunic. He froze, uncertain. You continued, “Consider the consequences if we don’t pull that nasty monster out now and nip him in the bud, before sweet Padme is ready to see you again...” You smiled sadly, “...if, of course, she ever is ready to see you again.”
An enormous, invisible weight bore down on you from seemingly nowhere, and your back was all of a sudden pressed against the far wall of the room, your feet just barely touching the floor. The force of the impact had knocked the wind clear out of you, and you caught your breath as the now-raging young Jedi approached you. His face was dark with contempt, and as the fingers on his outstretched hand clenched in the air, you felt your throat squeeze painfully shut.
Terror of death, brief but powerful, swept over you. Anakin must have known, because he released you then, and you dropped to the floor in a heap. You let out a groan as your body hit the cold tile.
You looked up as he approached you to loom over your crumpled form. From this angle, you could see something— a bulge, just visible under layers of tunic and legging, but undeniably present and clearly needy.
You gestured upward, between his legs. “I told you, Ani... look what a wonderful time you’re already having.”
He sneered at you, and unclipped his weapon from his belt, then his belt from around his waist. He placed them atop the sofa on which you’d waited for him. You remained on the floor as he turned his attention to you, fumbling now with the fastener on his pants. By the time he stood directly over you, he was holding a throbbing length in his hand; veins protruding and head glistening in the room’s soft light.
“Get down on your knees.” Not a request.
You obliged; you’d recovered from his choking by now and you were curious how much farther you’d have to prod him, before he would fall and shatter. How could someone so strong be so much like glass?
You had barely finished your thought when the invasive sensation of your jaw being forced open registered in your brain. Anakin’s cock— it seemed as formidable and angry as he did— worked its way quickly and unapologetically over your tongue, past your back teeth. You could feel him hitting the back of your throat, pushing; then he withdrew and slammed himself in again very roughly. This continued, and tears gathered in the corners of your eyes as he built up a violent rhythm. He shouted, “Is this what you want, then?! Is this what you want me to do?!”
You grunted through a mouthful of cock, but this did not satisfy him— he stopped, gripped you by your hair with an inhuman hand, and pulled you up so that you were eye-level with him; stringy blood and spit beading off your lips.
Through your pain, you admired him— you’d always had a knack for seeing and appreciating beauty, even dark or unsafe beauty. The Jedi’s enrapturing eyes were washed over with an ill hatred; pain far beyond his years poured from him like sweat. You felt a warmth well up inside you; if he felt it too, it angered him, and he tightened his grip on your hair, willing you to answer him.
“Yes... more...” you gasped, “I can feel your hatred and anger, Anakin, and your fear...” You licked a delicious mix of precum and blood off of your lips. “Just let it out; let it out on me, now, and you won’t hurt her later.” You knew you were lying— he clearly enjoyed this, on some level, and indulgence would only make it habitual. But, he was young and did not need to know yet. What he needed was for his spirit to drift away from the Light for good; you were here to help it do that. “Hit me again, Anakin, please... do it for sweet Padme.”
So he did— a sharp twist of your neck, followed by brighter stars and more blood. You were again sprawled on the floor, but this time he did not wait even a second before beginning to stride over to you.
In a smooth, almost singular motion, he whipped off his tunic. You were treated to the sight of a heaving, glistening chest; broad and smooth except for a few scattered scars and old burns. Black gloves covered both of his hands; you knew the one on his right could kill you with a flick of its finger, if he wanted it to.
He stared down at you, fresh hatred building and bubbling behind his eyes. “If you’re telling me the truth, then so be it.”
Emphatically, you said, “I am, Ani! This is the only way for you to grow your power, and keep safe what you hold dear.”
All at once, he was on top of you, pouncing like a wildcat and pinning you roughly to the floor. Sinewy muscles, covered by achingly smooth, young skin, held you in place as his disconcertingly hard and strong right hand ripped at the front of your robes until your body was exposed.
He sat up on his knees, one leg on either side of you. His cock, still loose of his pants, pointed at your face as you lifted your head from the floor to peer at it. You smiled, fresh blood trailing down the side of your chin. Although you had a free hand, you didn’t dare raise it to wipe the mess away.
He looked down on you, every part of him aflame. He used his flesh hand to strike your face yet again; he repeated this twice more before his own face contorted. He let out a noise that one might have mistaken for a sob, were he not in such a state.
He brought his face down close to yours. Still reeling from his blows, you thought he was going to try to kiss you— instead, he pinched your cheeks together until you mouth opened, and spat into it. Sticky saliva passed his velvety, pink lips and landed at the back of your throat, hitting the spot he’d been slamming his cock just minutes ago.
You swallowed, but all you could really taste was blood as Anakin got off of you. He grasped your hips brutally with his black, gloved hands and twisted your body over until you were lying on your stomach.
Another forceful yank to the back of your hair.
“Up... on... your... knees,” he huffed quietly; you obliged, pointing your ass up at him.
He used this opportunity to smack it violently with his free hand, and you cried out, spitting a blob of bubbly blood onto the floor beneath your face.
You heard rustling behind you— his pants. Through your aches, the fact that he was now so close to you, naked— save for two leather gloves snaking up his thick arms— made your pussy clench and your slick little folds swell.
He leaned down, mouth to your ear, and in a deep growl, “I would do anything for her, and I would come within an inch of destroying you if that’s what it took to keep her safe.”
He straightened back up again; tightened his grip on your hair. You were enveloped immediately by a splitting pain as he finally thrust his throbbing cock into your tight, dripping hole.
The stretch was like fire to you, and he took very little time to begin rutting away like an animal. His breathing turned ragged, and you could feel his hips hitting you over and over as he buried himself to the hilt in your wet cunt.
He placed his entire inhuman hand on your ass cheek, gathered some of the juices from your pussy on it, and thrust the unforgiving leather digit into your ass.
You couldn’t ever remember feeling so full before in your life, and you screamed at the sensation. In response, he pulled your head back wildly by his fistful of your hair, and screamed at you, “Shut up!”
Thumb curling up into one part you, enormous hardness pillaging another, you felt the pounding on your cervix all through your body and found you could not obey his orders not to scream. You continued to yell out, and he continued to ruin you, yelling the entire time for you to shut your evil mouth.
As you listened to your voices reverberate off the hard walls, you felt it— he tensed, groaned, and exploded, spilling his hot cum into you with abandon. His quick, rhythmic thrusts turned to frenzied bucking as he emptied; your combined essences dripping out and around the bottom of his slowly softening shaft.
He pulled out of you and let go of your hair, nearly dropping your head on the floor. Your hips sank down to the tile and you heard him stand; you rolled painfully over to look at him.
His eyes were wide, now, and pale. His chest dripped and heaved, and his half-hard cock twitched as tendrils of both of your cum trailed off its tip, sticking to his muscular thigh. He looked very warm in the soft light of the room, and though you were dizzy and queasy and sore, you thought about what a privilege it would be if you could run your hands over his body. That, however, was not to be.
He threw your torn robes at you contemptuously; slowly and silently you rose to put them back on. They were awkward to tie now that they’d been damaged, but you managed anyhow. When you were standing and fully dressed again, you breathed deeply.
Anakin was still naked, tense, and trembling; still dripping with sweat and the most human of juices. Suddenly, he stopped looking so warm— goosebumps peppered his skin, and his previously saucer-like eyes closed and knitted at the centre to form a pained expression.
If either of you had been anyone else at that moment, you’d have taken him in your arms and cooed gentle words to him— but this was Anakin Skywalker, you had your own loyalties, and this was but an assignment for you. The broken, naked boy in front of you was proof of that.
Blood was crusting around your mouth, and you could feel your face beginning to swell. You turned away from the formidable Jedi’s shaking figure, and walked coolly toward the door. As your hand touched the pad used to open it, his breath became more audible, and with a shudder, he said, “Do not return here.”
You did not answer; simply slipped out the door, down a long hallway, and out into the rainy night. Vehicles of all kinds zipped this way and that around you; humans, aliens, and sentient droids filled the streets with chatter and noise in spite of the late hour.
As you slinked away, sore and still dripping, you were certain you could hear— nearby, through a closed window— an anguished scream, and the sound of objects smashing.
It echoed in your mind, along with flashbulb memories of being full of him. Of his skin, his muscles, his rough voice, and his intriguingly brutal bionic hand. You hoped to yourself that your success was such that you might be invited back to Ani before his ultimate destiny came to pass.
He was dangerous and savage, yet irredeemably sexy and somehow so very fragile... and no matter what, he could only ever hurt you. Future Sith Lord Anakin Skywalker was your perfect kind of man, and you hoped you would get the opportunity to break each other again soon.
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