Marked by the Empire (Anakin/Vader x Mandalorian Reader)

**I just got my own lightsabers!! AHHHH - Enjoy this EXTRA long chapter! - 4.3k words**

(Y/n's POV)

I awoke to the sensation of a gloved hand shaking my shoulder. My eyes flew open, and the first thing I saw was yellow—his piercing gaze, unwavering and calm.

My hand jerked to my blaster, fingers itching to grip the cold metal, but he immediately narrowed his eyes at me, a warning look flickering in their yellow depths. The tension in the air thickened, each moment stretching like a taut wire between us. I froze, heartbeat hammering in my chest, and let out a shaky sigh, feeling the weight of his gaze as it bore into me.

"Get up. Let's go." His voice was steady as he extended his hand.

I hesitated for a moment, then pushed myself up without his help, gritting my teeth against the sharp pain that shot through my bandaged thigh. Leaning against the cold, hard wall, I felt its rough texture ground me, a reminder of the reality I was facing.

Inside, my heart raced, pounding hard in my chest, but I held my ground, refusing to flinch or show weakness. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing any fear. 

The way out was just behind him, a faint glimmer of hope that clawed at me. Still, doubt gnawed at the edges of my resolve. What good would it do to escape? He'd be relentless, and pushing my luck might just end in my own demise.

Here I stood—injured, breathless, and defiant—staring at him. He might not have been the imposing figure in black armor I'd grown to know from stories, but the man behind the legend was undeniably formidable.

Up close, his features were sharp, and his striking...blue? Eyes held a depth I hadn't anticipated.

When the hell did his eyes become blue? Can this dude color-coordinate his eye color to his outfits now?

There was a slight furrow in his scarred brow as he regarded me, not with triumph, but with an unsettling hint of admiration.

"You came back," I muttered, rolling my (e/c) eyes, my voice low but steady.

"I told you this," he replied, calm as ever.

I tilted my head, still braced against the wall. "Told me what? That you're obsessive? Noted," I shot back, irritation lacing my tone.

He met my gaze with an unwavering stare, showing no signs of anger. "You are dangerous, quiet...But," he countered smoothly. "You leave trails—injured bounties and panic in your wake although you always seem to end up finishing whoever is left's life. I didn't want to chase you to the ends of the earth... and you're also injured."

"Not injured enough to stop fighting," I retorted, my resolve hardening. I wasn't ready to back down; he needed to understand that I was no easy target.

"Regardless—"

"I'm not yours to catch or save," I snapped, my voice steady and defiant, fighting to maintain control in this unexpected confrontation.

He stepped closer, an intensity that could ignite a spark in dry brush radiating from him, causing my breath to hitch but not breaking my resolve. "Maybe not, but you are now."

Before I could fully process his words, he flicked his fingers, and I suddenly found myself yanked forward from the wall.

My body collided with his chest, and the impact, sharp and jarring, only reinforced my instincts. His gloved hand gripped my upper arm, a firm hold that was both unyielding and strangely gentle

I locked eyes with him, holding my ground despite the swirling emotions within me. His gaze was layered—concern mingled with an unsettling calm. And then it happened: his eyes flickered, shifting from a strange yellow to an unpredictable blue and back again, like a storm brewing beneath the surface.