Star Wars Imagines, One-shots, & more

The Turned ~ Dark!Kit Fisto x Reader

Word count: 5k
Warnings: NSFW, smut, dubious consent, (just in case because of slight mental persuasion), oral (m receiving), fingering, degradation, possession?, rough sex, masturbation, Force voyeurism, squirting, daddy kink, virgin reader, fluffy ending, Kit is evil and sexy
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You could barely remember the events of the past several hours. The day had started normally. You woke up in your room at the temple, went to sparring practice, and attended several other lessons with your master. After lunch was a blur. You remember the explosion, how bright it was and how your ears rang from being too close to it. Only flash images remained of everything else that occurred. You had heard people shouting, the sounds of lightsabers clashing, someone who you thought was Master Kenobi shoving you out of the way of whatever threat there was. Your vision was blurry and your ears were still ringing, you hid as best you could behind a corner. You could see the smoke from the explosion, hanging forebodingly in the air. A red lightsaber ignited in the midst of the smoke, a green one igniting not far from it. You tried to crawl away but were grabbed in a force choke and strangled to the point of unconsciousness.

You came to, tied to a chair, or what you imagined was a chair. You were blindfolded, your arms secured to something behind your back and your legs restrained to what felt like the base of a chair. You had been sitting here for who knows how long. It had felt like hours. You could hear water dripping somewhere off to your left, a few times you heard a door slide open, then close a few seconds later. You assumed it was your captors checking on you. But who were they? You had only seen the lightsabers, one green and one red.

Why would someone attack the temple? What were they after? And why, of all people, did they take you? They could have taken any number of Jedi hostage, but they chose you. A simple padawan, nothing special, no unusual abilities or high midichlorian count. So why you?

You tensed when you heard the door open again, this time they walked into the room, towards you. You heard the sound of a container being opened before cold metal touched your lips. You jerked back out of reflex.

“It’s water, drink.” Whoever was holding you had a strangely familiar voice. It was a man for sure, his voice deep and soothing, almost like velvet or rich chocolate to put it into context. The metal touched your lips again and you didn’t shy away, instead parting your lips and letting the cool water run down your parched throat.

They let you drink until you had enough, before removing it from your lips. You mumbled out a thank you, but got no response. Their footsteps circled you; slow, deliberate, calculated. You rooted yourself in the Force and stayed calm, if this was a Sith or an agent they had recruited, you would not be afraid.

Whoever it was chuckled darkly as they came to a stop on your right. Another metal object touched your face. Starting at your ear, they dragged it across your skin, down your jaw to your chin, tilting it up. You stayed still and did not react. The object left your skin before harshly connecting with your cheek as you were struck with what felt like the end of a lightsaber.

You heard the door open again and your other captor entered the room. He approached and you heard him hum in approval.

“You have done well,” said a new voice, this one you knew for sure. You would recognize that evil drawl anywhere. Count Dooku. “Is she the one you were looking for?”

“Yes, master,” the first man said.

“And you’re sure she’ll turn?” Dooku asked.

You fought back your anger, putting on a steady voice. “I will never turn to the dark side,” you said confidently.

You heard both men chuckle mockingly. “I assure you master, with my persuasion she won’t be able to resist.”

Who was this guy? Why had he wanted you? Why did he think he could get you to join them? And his voice, it was so familiar, like meeting an old friend after years spent apart. Beautiful tones that embraced your ears, with a foreign lilt of evil mixed in. His Force signature was the same way, familiar yet foreign, as if he was changed from something you once knew.