AN:
Jaenelle Masen: Yeah! it would be nice to give Vader a better suit – or would you want him out of a suit if he could survive that way? xo
Dani Cr: Thank you for your review! xo
Mercenary29: Sorry I was away so long! I'm back though :D Thank you for your continued support! xoxo
EmmaKate:18: Wait no more :D Here ya go! xo
One Last Time
I was a liar, I gave in to the fire
I know I should've fought it, at least I'm being honest
Feel like a failure, 'cause I know that I failed you
And I know, and I know, and I know that you got everything
But I got nothing here without you
Padme overheard Vader telling the children a bedtime story as he tucked them into bed. He tended to focus on stories about the force and why it should never be underestimated. But tonight was the first time he told them a more personal story – about how he won a pod race at their age.
"They asleep?" She asked as Vader closed the door behind him.
He nodded.
"Good." She replied with a smile, unfailingly polite. They both stood there, holding each other's gaze – feeling slightly nervous, edgy yet warm.
"Hello beautiful." Anakin found Padme on the balcony when he arrived home a couple of hours after her.
Padme shot him an adoring grin, and he motioned with his hand for her to come to him. So she did.
Walking over to where he stood, in the doorway, was the most exhilarating, comforting moment she had experienced in a while. He had been dealing with the Outer Rim sieges for so long, she had imagined what it would be like when he returned. Some days she was afraid he wouldn't return but it was too much stress on her pregnancy to dwell on thoughts like that. There was a tingling sensation in her stomach with each step that brought her closer to him. And finally, his arms gathered her and his eyes fixated on her mouth.
Leaning his nose on hers, he held her tightly, sinking his fingers in her hips, he reveled in the chance to touch her the way he wanted now that no one was around – to make up for lost time – to soak up her scent – to breathe in her inhales and soon, her moans.
"I've dreamt of getting you alone – all to myself." His mouth was so close to hers, she could practically taste his words. She pressed her lips together, moaning out a soft hum of satisfaction as she closed her eyes. Her breasts squished between them as their lips finally touched.
This was the only saving grace in the war, that he could come home to her, his safe space. The only other person in his life that showed him the same nurturing qualities his mother did. He had projected the same kind of emotional attachment that he had with his mother onto her. Because she was slightly older than him, she was able to take care of him the way he needed.
Her unconditional love made her so easy to talk to. And it was refreshing for her to see someone boldly express their vulnerability honestly. She was touched by his trust in her; it gave her the strength to open herself up to him too.
She knew him – and he knew her.
He could tell her everything, every thought, every feeling, every desire, and she never judged his darkest traits. She understood that he was terrified of being that same little helpless 9 year old, who couldn't protect his mother from abuse, or any of the people who had control over them when they were slaves – those who abused the power they had. Anakin was left to believe that the only way to defeat them was to gain power too.
And now, in Padme's arms where he felt safe, he felt strong. And he needed that – because he never wanted to feel like the helpless kid who can't protect those he loved ever again.
"You're still the most beautiful woman." Vader voiced as he kept her gaze.
This was the moment everyone takes for granted. The moment they want to be fleeting – the anticipation before you get what you want. That was how he felt all those years ago when he came home from the war, wanting to rush it, to immediately gratify his impulses. But now that things weren't going to end the same way they did that night, all he could do was remember the moment and the feeling that came with it. And he was quite fond it now. He almost wished he took his time a bit more back then, slowed down a little, stopped cutting corners, stopped craving excess and falling into the trap of overindulgence – and valued peace instead of thriving on drama, escapism. . .frenzy. If he weren't so concerned with instant gratification, he would've had more time to treasure the moment before it was over.
"And you're still in my dreams. . .every night."
Padme was left astonished – for a split-second she saw Anakin's face as Vader spoke. His confession made her feel the same way it did back then – only this time, the words weren't as light and airy, embellished with excitement, eagerness, and fantasy, as they once were. There was a weight to them now like they were a burden for him, a tragedy. And even for her, they were more bitter than sweet.
A tear rolled down her cheek and without thinking, she rushed over and placed her arms around his waist.
"I miss you." She mewled, mournfully, her face buried in his chest.
Her hug took him by surprise. It took him a minute to acknowledge what was happening but he eventually reciprocated the hug.
"I miss you too." He whispered.
She gradually pulled away, accepting this as a moment of weakness.
They were both left feeling a little disoriented after the embrace.
He took that as his cue to leave.
She wiped her eyes, unable to look at him as he walked away.
Once he reached the door, though, he paused, facing her again.
"Padme." He said weakly, causing her to look back up. His voice quiet, soft. "Come be with me. Just this once."
Her lips parted as her eyes landed on the black glove waiting for her hand.
I don't deserve it, I know I don't deserve it
But stay with me a minute, I swear I'll make it worth it
Can't you forgive me? At least just temporarily
I know that this is my fault, I should have been more careful
She followed him to his chamber and watched him take his seat. She observed the machines around him, removing his helmet, his suit – everything but his mechanical arms and legs.
She could hear her heart in her chest and her breathing felt abnormally loud in this cold, quiet room. She was nervous as she looked at his naked body – it was devastating seeing how little of him remained. But her misty eyes smiled once she found his and saw something familiar. Realizing how vulnerable he must be feeling as he puts himself out there, she drowned out her own anxieties. Her thoughts became blurred as he drew her towards him.
She pulls herself up onto his lap. A symphony of inhalations were shared between them – unsteady and fragile, anxious. She could feel him trembling under her with anticipation as he felt her voluptuous thighs straddle him. It was just like the vision he had in his nightmare, where he pictured her above him – only this time, he hoped he would be able to exercise control. They both delay any further movement for a second, allowing all the hesitation, restlessness, apprehension, and vivacity to flow through them.
She placed her hands on either side of his face, cupping his cheeks. His eyes fell closed, comforted and enamored by the gentleness of her fingers. Her warmth melted everything – every anxiety, every fear, every pain. He could cry from the relief alone.
She leans in, and the tip of her nose brushes the tip of his. They breathe each other in like it was the freshest air they've had in years. The tension between their parted lips had them pining for each other's touch. The soft brush of her lips made it feel like time had stopped. He could taste her, smell her, feel her against his skin again.
His metal fingers slip under the straps of her nightgown, pulling it down to reveal her breasts. She leaned back as he got a good look at her, concentrating on the teardrop shape of her breasts with his own eyes. It was killing him. And she realized he couldn't touch her, he wouldn't get to hold her with his own hands. She will never feel the hungry touch of his hand ravishing her again – a touch full of devotion that used to make everything better.
She knelt up so she could feel him against her body. He relished the titillation of her warm breast against his cheek. His lips run along her stiff nipple, tugging on it, making her clutch her thighs tighter together around him. His mechanical hand followed the arch of her back, further pressing her soft, lush curves against his nose. The faintest moan left her lips as the flickering strokes of his hot tongue on her made her toes curl.
She lures his mouth back up to hers and they swap another heavy exhale. She moans nostalgically against his lips as his tongue explores her mouth. He seduces her with open-mouthed kisses, and everything around them vanishes with a smoldering haze. She begins to rub herself on him as she feels his bulge twitch underneath her. Her hot liquid leaks over him, and he groans out.
She moves her hand down to his soaked shaft, stroking him with her feathery touch. Her imploring eyes meet his boldly ogling her.
"Will it hurt?" Her soft-spoken undertone, melodic. The swipe of her velvety fingers makes him breathless as he gawked at her.
"I don't care." He said roughly. His hands quickly cling onto her waist to force his now tormented member inside her.
She sinks down onto him slowly, and his phallus becomes buried in the mouth of her arousal. Nothing will ever feel as good as this – the overload in the throes of passion. They both felt the pull of a ferocious rush.
He can barely keep it together as the familiarity of this fusion deprives him of his senses. He longs to impale her now that he took possession of her. He clutches onto her, lifting her as he stands up, putting those metal legs to good use. Her legs clamping around his waist as he crosses the room with her in his arms, and leans her up against the wall. She always felt petite in her tall husband's arms but now that his mechanics made him even taller, she felt extra small, extra delicate as she was squished between him and the wall. Her long hair, mussed; her dress now scrunched into a band that hangs around her hips. His hands are planted on her waist, holding her up as he delves deeper into her, embedded in her.
He gives himself to her, over and over, until she is absorbed in this mystic creation that encompasses all of her – one that makes her heartbeat sound louder than it ever could, that makes her legs quake, and her head fall back as she descends into a scorching, dark sensuality. Her hands slither over his sculpted chest and up to his shoulders, holding on for dear life. He may feel physically different but, spiritually, he felt, tasted, and filled her up exactly the same.
He channels his aggression, his desire, and his desperation into her. Her legs dangle behind him, the heels of her feet hitting him. He becomes transfixed by the sounds of her moans turning into a long high-pitched orgasm, as her whole body shakes in his arms as he hits the right spot repeatedly. And he becomes mesmerized by watching her be fulfilled.
And suddenly he understood it – why he struggled to walk the line of light and dark. Why he always acted like a swift breeze could come and sway him either side. He had spent the first 22 years of his life trying to suppress his dark tendencies in favour of the light, and he ended up resentful – and now he has spent the last 10 years robbed of any light, unable to control the dark side eventually overpowering him. How was he ever going to bring balance to the force and ensure the use of the force was healthy if he wasn't healthy himself? The pressure of being the chosen one his whole life felt like a curse, a ruse. He couldn't stop himself from abusing the force, how would he stop others?
But it wasn't the fact that he had dark tendencies that was the problem. Everyone had feelings of anger, greed, and pride. The problem was that he'd allow those emotions to push him over the ledge. When all he had to do was channel them into something productive to find peace of mind... to balance them out so they didn't run wild.
Right now as he made love to her, he was balancing his light and dark side. He was selfish – selfishly taking her body with rapture, trying to gain as much pleasure from her as he could. But he was also being selfless – selflessly pleasing her, wanting to make her happy. And making her happy had him going off like a gunshot, liberated in the intensity of the release – coming inside her felt like coming home.
And he finally got it – balance. Balancing your selfish side with your selfless side is what makes you stable and, in turn, you use the force in a healthy way. Balance makes you human. The Jedi failed to understand that love aids balance, and they witnessed what the absence of love can do to a man.
But even though he was now the most dangerous, terrorizing man in the galaxy, love softened him, calmed him. She softened him. She made him human again.
Her body was now limp after being dissolved with the thunderous gratification of all their feelings marinated. He slowed down, gently pumping into her to soothe her. She could barely speak. Her moans were weaker, desperate. Her voice merely above a whisper – completely satisfied with the sensation they experienced together.
His forehead now heavy as it rests on hers, trying to catch his breath. It exerted a lot out of him to release the exhales in his tightened chest but it was also the most peaceful moment he had in a long time – all the pain channeled into pleasure.
He rests inside her, wanting to stay like this forever – with his soul interlaced with hers – grateful that she gave him this moment with such grace. She finds the strength to wrap her arms tighter around his neck, her crevice closing in on his appendage, capturing him in her warm womb, wanting to feel every drop of him in her.
Because he was right. In so many ways, she's in him and he's in her.
One last time
I need to be the one who takes you home
One more time
I promise after that, I'll let you go
Baby, I don't care; all I really care is you wake up in my arms
So one last time
'Cause I don't wanna be without you
One Last Time - Ariana Grande
(Moonlight Records – The Quiet – sad version)