Rebuilding | Anakin Skywalker.
— Anakin Skywalker x Neutral Gender!Reader
— CW: 18+ content. Minors DNI. TW for: Unhealthy relationships, borderline Dead Dove, rough sex, possessive dynamics between Sub and Dom. | word count: 600+ (not proofread)
— Remade work, original post found in @fuckmyskywalker
Anakin likes to use you to relieve his stress. You learned that early on—how the tension in his shoulders loosens the moment his attention settles on you. He enjoys how responsive you are, how every reaction slips from you so easily, like your body was made to answer him. The smallest touch gets a response. The smallest command gets obedience.
Sometimes he’s rough from the start. A sharp slap to your thigh, fingers curling in your hair to pull your head back until you gasp. Other times it builds slowly, the pressure of his hand at your throat tightening bit by bit while his voice lowers into that dangerous tone that makes your stomach twist. He calls you names, tugs your hair until your eyes sting, until tears start to gather and spill down your pretty cheeks.
And when they do, he laughs.
Not cruelly—at least not entirely. There’s something darker behind it, something restless. The control he has over you reflects the control he can never seem to have over himself, over the chaos of his thoughts, his duties, his life. With you, things are simple. With you, everything bends the way he wants it to.
You tease him about that sometimes; just a few words, a little smirk, a reminder that you know exactly why he does this. You know the effect it will have. And every single time it earns you the same punishment—your back bent over the nearest surface, his hands gripping tight as he takes his frustration out on you until your breath stutters and your body trembles from the strain of it. Until you’re clinging to whatever’s beneath your hands just to stay upright.
Anakin has always been possessive. Everyone knows that much. But with you it becomes something deeper, something heavier that settles into every corner of your life. It grows slowly, steadily, until it’s impossible to separate from him.
He needs you close. Always within reach, always within sight.
You become the one constant he can rely on—the way you obey him without hesitation, the way you let him take whatever he needs from you without question. He breaks you apart piece by piece, pushing you until you feel like there’s nothing left. And then he puts you back together again.
Each time is a little different. Each time a little more his.
Until eventually there’s hardly anything left that belongs to you.
You follow him everywhere like a lost puppy, drawn to the warmth of his presence, uneasy the moment he disappears from view. His absence makes your chest tighten, makes your eyes sting again, and Anakin notices every single tear that falls because of it. He thrives on them, the proof that he has rooted himself somewhere deep inside you.
Sometimes he presses your face down into the mattress, leaning over you with his mouth close to your ear, his voice rough with that familiar growl. He reminds you who you belong to. Tells you how easily someone else could take your place, how foolish you’d be to ever think about leaving him.
The words should hurt… instead they send a shiver through you, a pulse that tightens around him in response, your body betraying exactly how deeply those words have sunk in.
The way you react, the way you cling even tighter after every threat, every harsh reminder. It makes something dark and satisfying curl in his chest— because he knows what he’s done.
He shaped you. Slowly, carefully, until every instinct you have points back to him. He broke you down until the cracks in you mirrored the ones he carries inside himself.
And now, when he looks at you—tearful, obedient, devoted—he sees the final result of his work.
You’re just as broken as he is. Exactly the way he wants you to be.
