Empire: The Rise (Anakin x Reader)

The First Fireworks

The fireworks popped in and out of an explosive existence, shimmers of dazzling color raining like drops of starlight against an inky black sky. Sparks danced in patterns above the Fortress walls, encapsulating everything in a brilliant gold. Flecks of the same color were reflected in the glass of Anakin's eyes - but whether it was from the display outside of the window, or the flakes pressed smoothly onto (Y/N)'s shoulder, one couldn't say.  

She was only able to see those reflections for a brief moment before they were obscured by his thick lashes, closing as did the distance between them. She had always known that Anakin needed to keep his hands busy when he was feeling something - excitement, anxiety, or passion - as evidenced by his constant tinkering and invention, as well as his skills in combat.  But this, this was on another level entirely.

He had gripped her so firmly, so desperately as he'd laid her in the bed, one hand guiding her hips while the other cupped the back of her head to catch her as they crashed into the pillows. She felt him exercising the hand on her hip now, squeezing it tightly as he kissed her again, only to relax it as he pulled away to change his target. He dragged his hand upwards, the heat on her torso eliciting goosebumps across her skin. 

She felt his palm, warm and calloused, on her cheek now, swiping a thumb across her lip still wet from where he had been moments before. His eyes burned as he stared at her.

"Look, (Y/N)," he whispered, voice raspy. 

Using the same thumb, he now placed it on the side of her chin opposite the rest of his fingers,  grasping her jaw. He turned her head towards the open window.

"Look at what I made for you."

Another firework burst in the near distance, and the Empress let out a soft gasp. Her eyes widened considerably as she took in the brilliant colors, transfixed by the fantasy of it all. She reached up to wrap gentle fingers around his wrist, holding him in place. 

Anakin pressed another kiss to her, this time on her cheekbone, gazing down at his wife beneath him. It seemed neither of them could tear away from the sights entrancing them. 

"You don't want to watch it?" She asked softly, a dazed look crossing her face as pops of blues and greens tinted her cheeks. 

"I've seen them enough," he murmured in response, not taking his eyes off of her. Letting go of her face, he reached up, tentatively smoothing out her hair.

(Y/N) kept her eyes on the window. She knew that if she looked at him now, after he offered such tender actions, her confusion would only grow. 

For the longest it had been easy to define their relationship - she was a queen transplanted into another ruler's territory, and he was an Emperor with a nasty behavioral problem who got nauseated at the sight of her. 

But here, and now, she felt less like an odd pair stitched haphazardly together through fate. Where they had once been a patchwork of mistrust, disdain, or even contempt, a new affinity grew. It was thick, like vines, weaving between the memories of past behavior and loosening the resulting sentiments. 

Yet, these vines were dangerous, wrapped in cautionary thorns that made the Empress's heart quicken.  

Is this okay?  She thought, chest constricting as he touched her.

Anakin's hands ran lightly over her exposed shoulders, setting off feelings of desire and impulse. Her skin was a battleground, with the endorphins in her blood coloring her in pinks and reds as her brain screamed for her to stop his advances. 

Is it okay for me to enjoy this so heavily?

She felt him sinking into her, resuming his activity, leaving a trail of kisses down her neck.