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little-miss-vader · 1 year

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His Best Girl.

Pairing: Anakin x Jedi!Fem Reader

Summary: You two used to be thick as thieves but The Council split you up. Anakin isn't having that go on any longer.

Warnings: 18+ !!!! SMUTTY !!!! Taking virginity, jealousy, restraint, dirty talk/praise kink, hair pulling, dominance, "master" kink, neck kissing, biting, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, etc.

A/N: Y/N/N means your nick name! Inspo from a drabble by @skywlker-sluvtt about the reader being a virgin/inexperienced. Surprise! It's a long one again. I haven't ever written one shots this long idk what's come over me. (It's Anakin. Anakin has come over me.) I love the anakin x jedi reader trope and I can world build forever with it. Anyways, enjoy you filthy animals and thank you so much for the love!! <3 Y'all have made me feel very welcome here.

Word Count: 4.4k

You were just a little girl when you were taken in by the Jedi Council. You remember how wide your eyes were as you watched the planet of Coruscant get closer and closer. You were 8. Anakin was 11. You both clicked quickly and were essentially glued to each others hips. You’d talk yourselves into trouble, sneak out to go stare at the stars at midnight and throw food at each other in the dining hall instead of eating.

When you were children that was fine, it was nothing a stern talking to couldn’t fix. As you grew older, the council began to take strict measures to ensure you two would only be together when absolutely necessary. They decided it was in both of your best interests to stay away from each other and the bond you two shared eventually dwindled. Instead of whispering while a Master was attempting to do their teaching, the two of you would barely exchange glances. You’d walk silently in a single file line to the dining hall, no longer bothering to take the heat for walking next to each other.

The whispering and laughing turned into polite nods and common greetings said in passing. You’d walk right by him and bow your head at him, he’d reciprocate with a fairly neutral expression gracing his features. You’d always feel his head turn to look back at you as you walked in opposite direction, he found himself often wishing he could call over his shoulder and tease you and tell you your form needed work or that your footwork was a mess like he used to when you were young.

You were 19 now. Anakin was 22. You’d barely looked at each other or spoken for longer than a few moments in years. The fear of going against the Councils wishes outweighed your nostalgia for the friendship you once shared. You wanted to be great and so did Anakin. So the two of you focused on becoming the people you’d both dreamed of being.

It wasn’t long until Anakin was knighted. The ceremony was filled with toasts and speeches. You sat with the small group of girls that you had become friendly with over the years and ate your meticulously prepared meal. Anakin sat next to Obi-Wan, along with the other Jedi Masters at the long table at the front of the room. You wished you could give him a hug, congratulate him, tell him he deserved the praise he was getting. He had grown so much you often had a hard time recognizing the little boy you once knew.

You did your fair share of filling out as well. Anakin didn’t let that go unnoticed as his eyes would trail over you when you’d find yourselves in a shared space. When he thought you weren’t looking his eyes would take in every inch of you but you could feel him. You felt every movement of his eyes on you and you could never bare it so you’d often excuse yourself.

That trend continued tonight and as you sat in the large dining hall you felt eyes looking over you. It was such a strong gaze you could practically feel it like fingers touching on the skin under your Jedi appointed uniform. You shivered as you placed your fork next to your plate. Your eyes darted over to Anakin who, to no surprise, was looking right at you. Your tongue darted out to soften your suddenly dry lips and you pressed them into a hint of a smile. He returned the small smile and looked back at Obi-Wan who was proudly speaking to him about their last mission together.

The feeling of his gaze made your stomach flip and you stood up, excusing yourself politely. The need to use the bathroom as a safe space to calm yourself grew within you. You walked through the rows of tables, still feeling a set of eyes on you, and felt a hand lightly grasp your arm and your head snapped to look down at a boy you had trained with once before smiling up at you from his chair. He had dark short hair and piercing green eyes.

“You look nice tonight.” He smiled at you and you raised an eyebrow. “I look the same as I always do.” You muttered, confused and still feeling eyes on you. The gaze harshened and you dropped your head, ignoring it. “Yeah but.. Your hair. You left it down. It’s nice.” He smiled again, he was handsome but this really was not your prerogative. You smiled politely at him and mumbled a thanks to get the interaction over with before scurrying to the bathroom.

Anakin looked between you and the boy as you two spoke, desperately trying to read lips, focus on your voices through the Force, anything to know what was going on. When you smiled he felt his hand tighten around the glass he was raising to his lips. There was a level of possessiveness that Anakin held on to when it came to you. Growing up you were his best friend. His favorite. His best girl. Now you were effectually strangers and it killed him a little every day when you’d curl your perfect lips into a shy smile at him, or wave your soft looking hand at him in passing. He didn’t act on it now when he saw the way the guys would look at you and talk to you but he sure as hell felt jealousy bubble up within him every time it happened. He placed the glass down a little harder than even he expected, his hands pushed against the table so he could stand up. He adjusted his robe as he stood and looked at Obi-Wan. “I’ll be right back.” He muttered as he stepped away from the commotion in the dining hall. He made sure to slip past the boy who had been speaking to you, standing tall and walking confidently. The quiet washed over him as the door of the dining hall closed behind him.

You were standing in the bathroom in front of one of the giant mirrors at the sinks. Your hand combed its way through the ends of your hair, as you tried to make the soft natural curls you had look more presentable. You sighed in frustration when they simply stayed the way they were. You pulled your Jedi robe down and tucked it further into your utility belt to make it look less lumpy from sitting down. The small amount of makeup you had attempted to put on looked alright but it made you mad regardless. Why couldn’t it just look perfect? You thought. You groaned and placed your hands on the corner of the counter, leaning toward your own reflection. You’d never cared about what you looked like before but something about that boys words made your mind go straight to over thinking. “So stupid.” You whispered to yourself.

You felt something, or somebody near you. The Force wasn’t hard to navigate when it was this quiet and your eyes darted to the reflection of the door behind you in the mirror. You watched the door crack open and a sandy blonde head peered in. Anakin pushed the rest of the door open and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He made sure to lock it incase somebody came in and gave him shit for being in the women’s lavatory.

“What’re you doing in here?” You whispered, turning around to face him. You took a few steps toward him, only enough for your voice to travel to him without having to raise it. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the beam next to him. His broad shoulders raised and dropped and he looked over you again. “Just wanted to check on you.” He spoke with a small smile on his lips. Maker, you could tackle him to the ground when he did that.

You took a deep breath and looked around the room as you thought of what to say next. “Why would you check on me?” Your eyebrow raised slightly. “Wanted to make sure that little creep didn’t come in here with you.” His words were laced with an emotion you weren’t familiar with and you were taken aback. “Little creep? What are you-“ Your head raised a bit as you realized who and what he was talking about. “Him? He’s just somebody I practiced with one time. I wouldn’t- I’ve never..” Your brain found it increasingly hard to find the right words as you watched Anakin. His strong arms were still crossed over his large chest and he tightened his jaw every time you stuttered.

With a prompt shake of his head he took a step forward, his tongue pushed against the front of his teeth as he smiled with an unbelieving expression. “You’ve never what?” He said, his voice was surprisingly venomous as he spoke to you, you hadn’t gotten a chance to realize how tall he’d gotten until he stepped closer and towered over you. “Done something like that.” Your eyes dropped to gaze at the floor as you muttered the words that he had forced out of you.

There was silence for a moment. His thumb and pointer finger slipped under your chin and grasped it gently to make you look up at him. His blue eyes were a bit darker than normal and your heart skipped a beat at the close proximity you were in now. “Never?” He asked, his interrogation was completely unexpected. You opened and closed your mouth and decided to nod your head instead of let yourself try to speak again. He continued to stare down at you, his eyes searching yours for even a hint of dishonesty. He never found it. “Still my best girl..” He mumbled and your eyebrows pushed together. You hadn’t heard him say that in years though now, it seemed to have a bit of a different meaning to it.

“You’ve grown so much, Y/N/N.” He whispered as his face neared yours. You gulped the access saliva in your mouth down as you responded. “You have too, Ani.” Your words came out weak, you didn’t have the same confidence you normally carried yourself with and it made Anakin smirk. Your soft voice saying the nickname he only allowed you to use made his length twitch in his pants ever so slightly. He hummed and it was almost inaudible. Something about being the only one to know you as well as he did ignited something within him.

“You’ve grown.. But you’ve never had anything special.. Have you?” He whispered. “Something that made you feel good..” His words wrapped around you like an electric blanket and his hand moved to cup your cheek while his thumb caressed it. Your breathing shook and your eyes widened at his words. “N-no.” You muttered through your labored breathing. You could sense how excited this was making him and it was making you feel like you could throw up from anticipation of his next moves. Your cheeks reddened and your ears burned as he looked between your eyes and your lips. “Nobody’s ever gotten to feel those pretty lips? Or hear what could fall from between them?” You gasped quietly at his words and shook your head, your eyes never left his. His thumb moved to trace your lips gently and your eyes rolled back for a fraction of a second. His expression seemed to get more and more intense, his own breathing became a bit heavier.

“And those hands… Nobody’s ever felt how soft and useful they can be?” His free hand traced a finger down your arm before grabbing your hand. Your head was spinning as you shook your head again and he laughed softly. “Can’t even talk.. So fucking innocent.” He growled into your ear and your breath caught in your throat loudly. He smiled at the reactions he was getting from you. He used his grasp on your hand to turn the both of you around so your back was against the wall and he pinned your hand above your head.

“Anakin..” You muttered, your face was bright red and your breath just couldn’t be caught. His warm body pressed up against yours and you whimpered involuntarily at the feeling. He smirked at the reaction and began to place the softest of kisses on your neck, jaw, cheeks, and corners of your mouth. You bit your lip and took deep breaths through your nose. “Please kiss me.” You whined and his head lifted, eyes shining at you. He seemed physically unable to wipe the cunning smile off his face as he pressed his lips against yours. They were hot and soft, causing you to practically melt into him.

It was deep and longing, the feeling behind the kiss. He was smothering you and you couldn’t breathe but it was all worth it. Small breaths were caught between kisses and he stopped to whisper against your lips. “Open..” And you did. You opened your mouth for him and he immediately sucked on your tongue. You gasped and your eyes snapped open to see his still fluttered closed as he tangled his muscle with yours through open mouthed kisses. Your eyes squeezed shut again when his free hand palmed your breast, pushing upward, grabbing it and repeating. His name left your lips and his hips bucked toward yours ever so gently.

“Master Anakin.” He groaned, correcting you against your lips and you complied. “Master Anakin..” You whispered as your head bounced back against the wall in pleasure and you kept it there because he immediately moved his lips down to your neck. He left bites and sucked gently, even blowing on where he left his saliva and you flinched harder causing your free hand to snap up and grab hold of his hair. Your legs squeezed together as you stood against the wall for some kind of release and he stuck his knee between your legs.

“That’s my job.” He growled against your neck. He pushed your pants down with aggression and you kicked them off your feet. He sat on his knees in front of you and grabbed onto your hips, his fingers squeezed into your ass and you moaned. Your legs felt shaky as he sat with his face mere inches away from your heat. You eyed him with wide, curious eyes. You’d never felt like this before. Your now unrestrained hands pushed his hair back from his face and he peered up at you as he slid a finger between your folds. You let out a sound comparable to a squeak at the new feeling and he smirked.

“So wet… All for me, hm?” He whispered as he slid a single finger into your tight hole. Your eyes squeezed shut and you let out a breathy whimper. He laughed when you weren’t able to respond, your innocent nature made him feel dirty and perverted. He was eating it up as he slid in and out of you slowly, getting you used to the feeling. He pushed himself against your legs to keep your knees from buckling when he felt them shake even more, his free hand reached up and fondled your tits and it doubled as a way to keep you standing. His thumb pressed against your clit and he could feel it pulsating, causing another chuckle to leave his swollen lips. “So fucking eager.” He said with his eyes staring deep into yours as he slid a second finger inside of you. A yelp escaped your lips and you squirmed while he pushed his thumb against your clit and fingered you with one hand and rolled your nipple between his fingers with his other hand. You clenched around his fingers and he shushed you gently.

“Breathe, just let me make you feel good. Relax..” He whispered as he kept a slow and steady pace. You took a few breaths through gritted teeth and it made the pleasure feel all that much better as you relaxed around him. “That’s my girl.” He cooed as he circled his thumb around your clit and curved his fingers toward him causing him to push against the sensitive top wall of your pussy. A gasp escaped and you whined his name as he left kisses all over your hip bones. The warmth sent shivers down your back. Anakin removed his thumb when your eyes squeezed shut and you felt something warm and wet replace it on your clit. A louder gasp escaped your lips when you opened your eyes and saw his mouth on your clit and one of your hands gripped his hair tighter while the other flew toward your mouth in shock at the noise you made. He groaned at the feeling of you pulling his hair and the vibrations made another moan leave your mouth, barricaded by your hand.

“No need to be quiet. Nobody’s coming here..” He whispered and you remember he’d locked the door. You dropped your other hand back into his hair as he lapped away at your clit. The taste made him want to absolutely devour you and he tried his best to get as close as he could to doing so. His fingers moved quicker when he felt you begin to clench again and his tongue went from soft, flat licking to quick, pointed flicking.

“Such a pretty pussy..” He whispered into you. You felt something begin to tighten in your stomach and your back arched, causing you to grind on his face and your cheeks reddened when you realized how good it felt. You swung your hips back and forth desperately and whined his name out as you grinded on his face while he licked and finger fucked you. He smiled when he realized you’d never have known you liked to grind on his face without him, it filled him with pride and he felt his cock press against the zipper of his pants making them feel much tighter now.

One last flick of his tongue and curl of his fingers sent you spiraling over the edge, gasping for air and moaning.

“Oh gods, Master.” You exclaimed with a shaky voice between your moans as your body shook with ecstasy. You’d never felt like this before, your eyes screwed shut as you began to see little dots collect in your vision and you felt a little bit of fluid come out of your pussy, soaking his chin and fingers. He growled at the feeling and pulled his fingers out. He reached his hand to your lips as he stood up in front of you and you opened your mouth willingly. “Such a good girl for me.” He whispered as your eyes rolled back at the taste of yourself on him. When you opened your eyes again after collecting yourself you found his pants were already on the floor and he was working on the tedious layers on his top half. He threw his clothes to the side and caged you in against the wall with a grunt. You felt something long raise up between your legs and hit your pussy and you gasped. Your curious gaze found the culprit and you swore your eyes bulged out of your head.

His hands found their way to your thighs and he pulled on them, you jumped up and wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms swung around his neck, squeezing as if you’d fall if you let go. He chuckled. “I’m not gonna drop you.” He said in the cocky tone you knew and adored. Your arms loosened and your stomach flipped when you realized it was his strong arms keeping you levitating in front of him. Another groan escaped his lips at the flustered look on your face and you looked at him through your lashes with dazed, drooped eyes. He smirked and removed one hand to pump his cock as it teased your entrance. How could something that big fit inside of me? You thought to yourself as you labored your breathing. He sensed your nerves.

“You’ll be okay. You can take this, I know you can. You’re my best girl.” He cooed into your ear as you felt his tip push against your virgin hole. You bit on your lip and immediately felt his lips push against you gently. You let go and reciprocated the gentle kiss as he soaked himself in your juices for a moment and pushed the head in. You sucked in a sharp breath and your eyes stung. He looked at you. “Just like before, Y/N/N. Relax… You’re such a good girl.. You can take it.” He groaned between his own words at the feeling of your pussy around his cock. You took a few deep breaths as he slowly sheathed himself into you, his hip bones hit yours and he stopped to let you adjust.

“Good girl.. So fucking tight.” He whispered again, encouraging you to relax and you did. You let out a few more deep, shaky breaths and nodded to him, words weren’t exactly a possibility right now. He smiled and pushed his lips against yours to distract you a bit before he started to move slowly. In and out. In and out. His kisses migrated down your chin to your neck and you pushed your head against the wall. Your chest was rising and falling quicker and quicker as the discomfort began to feel like pleasure. You clenched a bit and moaned when it began to feel better, Anakin took that as his signal to pick up the pace. He stroked the inside of your pussy quicker and quicker, moving all the way to his head before pushing back into you. His grip on your hips tightened and he moaned against your neck. Your hands reached for his hair again, he seemed to enjoy when you did that and it gave you something to tether you to this plane of existence.

“You’re doing such a good job at taking my cock.” He moaned and your eyes rolled back into your head again. Your jaw went slack when he adjusted you to be a bit higher and his dick slid against your g-spot. The noises you were emitting were uncontrollable now. Gasps, whimpers and moans all fell through with the occasional, “Oh Master..” thrown in.

“So pretty with my cock in you… Nobody knows you like I do… They never will.” He grunted as he began to thrust with more aggression and desperation than before. He wanted to feel every inch of you, every crevice and every ridge. Your brain mustered up the power to respond. “They never will… I only want you.. I always have.” Your words came out in between gasps. You let out another moan and squirmed when his fingers dig further into the soft skin on your hips.

His free hand moved one of your hands from his hair to your tits and he leaned back to watch you palm and pinch away at them. His eyes darkened and his teeth gnawed down on his lower lip as he watched. The sight itself was enough to make a man cum in his pants. He watched you play and squirm while you moaned his name and he began to fuck you faster. You almost screamed at the feeling, your voice echoed through the bathroom and you didn’t care at all.

You felt a familiar feeling build up in you and you pulled your other hand from his hair to rub your clit the same way he’d shown you. “Look at you.. Doing what I taught you.” He groaned as he continued his rampage on your pussy. The feeling of both your clit and hole being ravaged caused you to arch your back again and this time he hit a spot he hadn’t before. “Oh fuck.” You exclaimed as you rubbed away at your swollen set of nerve endings quicker, desperately trying to pull the orgasm out. He leaned in and began to kiss you with an open mouth, tongues fought and you could taste the sweat from his upper lip. You clenched around his cock as you let out another orgasm and your convulsing pussy sent him over the edge. His strokes got sloppy and his breath came out of his nose in short, repetitive bursts. He soaked your walls with his milk and you moaned at the feeling of your mixed liquids trickling down to your thigh as he slowed down again.

He let your legs fall and his hands moved to your waist as he slipped out of you and your feet hit the ground as a way of steadying you. Your vision was slightly blurred as you both attempted to catch your breath. His forehead leaned against yours and his hot breath hit your lips. He leaned in for another kiss and this one was gentle and sweet. You moaned softly into it. “So much better than I’d hoped.” He whispered into your mouth and a blush formed on your cheeks again. He handed your clothes to you and you put them on shakily. When you were both dressed he held you close to him, hands gripping your waist with a gentleness that hadn’t been there when he was fucking you.

“They won’t keep us apart again.” He said softly, staring into your eyes and you smiled. “Never.” You responded and placed another kiss on his lips. He smiled into it and brought you closer by the small of your back before pulling away. “They’re probably wondering where we went.” He chuckled and you smiled in response. He gave you one last kiss on your nose before unlocking the door and slipping out of the bathroom. You waited a few minutes, fixing your hair and now non-existent makeup before following his steps toward the dining hall.

The party had gone smoothly and you didn’t catch a break from the girls you were sitting with about being gone so long. You laughed and brushed them off. The three of you walked towards your own dormitories after taking showers and getting ready for bed. “Goodnight, ladies.” You spoke as you closed your door and got comfortable in your bed. You were giddy and your body felt electric as your mind ran through the memories of the night. It hadn’t been more than an hour before you heard your door open and your head turned towards the light creeping in. Anakin slipped in and shut your door behind him, a smirk graced his face as shock blanketed yours.

“Gods, I missed that pretty face.” He spoke as he approached you. You sat up and smiled up at him. It was going to be a long night.

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forcemeanakin · 7 months

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Hot with brains

•WARNINGS: SMUT. Fingering (f receiving), oral fixation, dirty talk, praise kink and also degrading kink, corruption kink kinda??? Edging. Public space. The OC has a kink that attracts her to smart guys.

Pairing: ROTS!Anakin Skywalker x Female!reader.

Summary: Anakin falls for the librarian at the Jedi Temple, however, he soon realizes his adorable smile and golden curls won’t cut it with this one. No, she likes something different: brains.

Word count: 4.7K.

A/N: Pretty self-indulgent piece. I've been obsessed with Anakin's engineering brain ever since I got into Star Wars and this idea had be floating around for a whileeeee. Hope you all enjoy reading it, as much as I enjoyed writing it!

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You liked smart guys.

It wasn’t a kink per sé. You just couldn’t see yourself hooking up with someone with no brains, let alone establishing a committed relationship with them. You were swoon by guys with deep thoughts and admirable speech skills. The type of man that would go for a whisky instead of a beer, or use real shoes instead of plain sneakers.

You being a snob might have to do with your upbringing, after all you were the daughter of two scholars and professors of one of the most prestigious universities of Coruscant. You were raised to be logical and love intellectual conversations. You wouldn’t- No. You couldn’t see yourself enjoying a space with someone with a low IQ.

That was the reasoning behind taking the internship in the Jedi Temple’s library as part of your college voluntary program. You had to volunteer a certain amount of hours in order to graduate from your Journalism degree with honors.

You thought that even though this wasn’t exactly the area in which you were specializing, you would soak up some of the ancient knowledge of the Order, even make some great connections for the future. And so far it has been just that: A great experience. You got to read some really cool books and in the hours where no one would come, you got to finish some school work. The Jedi who would visit the library were nice and kind, always polite with a big smile. You even grew really fond of a young Togruta padawan that would spend her breaks in between training devouring books.

It was calm and quiet.

Until the storm broke through the door.

“Is this the one you’re looking for?” You yelled to Ahsoka as you climbed down the stairs with the title she asked for.

“Yes! Thank you, y/n!” She gave you a hug and ran to her table to start reading about the swamps in Dagobah.

You returned to your desk and kept registering the book’s codes into the control sheet when a loud sound made you look to the door, the one that was violently being thrown to open room for a tall, curly-haired man with dark robes.

You would recognize those robes anywhere. In reality, anyone from any point of the galaxy would recognize them.

Anakin Skywalker.

One of the few exceptions of Jedi men who didn’t live up to the sophisticated standard of the Order’s image. And definitely someone you would prefer to stay away from. For some reason he was the favorite warrior of the people; the citizens would line up in front of the Temple to scream “Hero with no fear” to that pretentious douchebag.

He was fine.

As what most people would call courageous, you would say careless. To others he was passionate, to you he was irrational. Not to mention how idiotic and unsubordinated he was; always talking back and doing things his way, ignoring what the guidelines said.

You didn’t like him. You didn’t like him at all. For that you were thankful that he never set foot into your sacred place. Until that doomed day.

“C’mon, Snips.” He shouted, approaching the desk where she sat. “We need to go. Council just called.”

“Can I have five more minutes? I’ve barely read anything about where we are going!” Ahsoka whined.

“You don’t need to read anything, we will find out anything that’s necessary there.” He huffed, finding his apprentice’s actions ridiculous.

You quietly sighed and rolled my eyes. Of course.

“Fine… but y/n really took her time fetching it for me.” She exhaled annoyed and closed the book.

Your eyes remained glued to your task at hand, not willing to look up and be involved in some type of pending argument.

“Who’s y/n?” Anakin scoffed rather loudly.

“Y/n! The volunteer?” Anakin frowned at the short explanation and shook his head in a negative motion. “You know, y/n! C’mon Skyguy, follow me.”

No, please no, you whispered to your insides.

“Hey, y/n!” You heard Ahsoka’s little footsteps running to where you were.

“What can I do for you, Soka?” You answered, still pretending that you were too busy to move your head from its position.

“Skyguy hasn’t met you. Here, Anakin, y/n. She helps us out here in the library.”

“Ahsoka, we’re not supposed to be having social meetings, we need to go-” You finally gazed up and in that moment, Anakin and you made eye contact for the first time; it was intense. It felt like something clicked for him. “You must be Y/n.” Anakin shook his head lightly, hinting a little smirk as leaned over your table with fixed eyes.

Hell, no.

“Yes, I am. How may I help you?” You were bitter, totally unbothered by his chiseled cheekbones, or his gorgeous hair, or his plumped lips. Not even the scar had any effect whatsoever. He was an ass and that was automatically a turn off for you.

“I’m sorry I haven’t met you. You must be new.” He explained with dreamy eyes, subtly checking you out. You cursed the moment you decided to come in today with a blouse who had a bit of a cleavage. “I’m Anakin. Anakin Skywalker.”

“Actually, I’ve been here for almost two months now.” You suppressed the soul-eating need to roll your eyes.

“Oh, really? Sorry, I don’t come here much.” He leaned over even more, trying to keep eye contact even when you sat down.

“Obviously.” You whispered on the low.

“Excuse me?” Anakin frowned, interrupting his beam to pout with confusion.

“Nothing.” You smiled widely with a fake grin.

“Okay…” His frown deepened before a smirk broke out his lips. “Maybe I will make it a habit and visit more often.” He shrugged his shoulders, tilting his head to the side, deciphering the effects of his statement on you.

“You should.” You looked at him and gave him a side-smile, making his eyes sparkle. “Books are good for you.” You returned to check the order of nabooian books on your computer.

“Yeah, books are cool but there are other things I would much rather check out.” He smirked shamelessly at you, the back-handed comment flying way over his head.

You felt like gagging. Not the good kind.

Before you could come up with a clever response and shut him down for good, Ahsoka spoke from behind him.

“Ugh, gross! Let’s go!” The kid dragged him out by his clothes and before he disappeared through the glass door, he winked at you.

That was the first time you have seen him. First of many, many more.

Since the day your paths crossed, he took every fleeting moment to come and “read”, when in reality it was just him eating, or drawing or doing anything but opening a book. Taking advantage of your breaks, or whenever you returned to your seat after doing rounds, he would come over and make conversation. About his battles, his accomplishments, his close-calls to death… or about random facts he collected from his missions and travels; Anything that would maybe impress you.

And when he wasn’t doing that? He would drown you in compliments, to see if in fact, you soften up to him. Anakin was already aware of your no-so-secret disgust towards him the day he caught one of your eye rolls.

Did he care? No.

He was persistent: admiring your hair, loving the way you had styled it in a little bun (even though it was because the heat was eating you alive). He would ask about the tasks you were performing, sucking at pretending to be interested in hearing about organizing books in alphabetical order.

And it would have maybe worked; his good looks combined to his natural charisma were enough to make any mortal melt at his sight. You almost combust when you saw him carrying some wood boards into the library, the primal part of you rejoicing at the sight of his strong muscles stretching. The man was eye candy, whether you like it or not.

But, boy, were you tough.

Anakin Skywalker was not your cup of tea to say the least. You wouldn’t collaborate in his attempts to get to know you. You were so uninterested in finding out more about him when you had already scanned him. Just a way-too-handsome-for-his-own-good guy who was lucky enough to be born as the Chosen One, because otherwise, he would have never made it in the Order. He was determined, you would give him that.

His approaches were never creepy or invasive enough to make you uncomfortable, only to drive you wild. Even when he was the worst part of your day, you had to keep the polite but distant charade going on, in order to protect your job. Your disgust towards him, instead of hurting him, amused him. He liked challenges and you were freaking Mission Impossible. Although he also saw the flaws in you: a pretentious prick girl who had probably achieved everything in her life thanks to nepotism. But he could see past that.

Because, boy, were you hot.

And he was sure you liked it nasty.

Underneath your goodie-two-shoes clothes hid the true you: he knew you loved being treated like a filthy slut.

“Hello, y/n!” Ahsoka squealed in an excited voice. You two have grown to adore each other.

“Hey, Soka!” You responded happily, finishing to put some encyclopedias on a shelf. When you turned around, you saw she wasn’t alone. “Oh… good afternoon, Anakin.”

“Nice to see you too, y/n.” Anakin huffed in a sarcastic voice before strolling to where you were, Ahsoka following close behind. “Is that a new shirt? It suits you.”

“No, it’s the same white button up shirt that I’ve always used.” You smiled and turned around to roll your eyes in peace. He was too busy devouring your bosom behind the fabric to ever notice the barrier between his eyes and your skin.

“Y/n, do you think you could grab me a book about loreeks? I’m doing a little presentation about them for my science class.” Ahsoka asked you with a sweet voice.

“Oh sure… just let me look oveeeer…” You walked, stretching the words as you searched in the countless sections. “...here. It must be on one of these shelves.” You announced when you entered the exotic animals aisle.

Digitating the code on your scanner you found out it was in one of the tallest shelves, only reachable with a ladder. Right when you were about to move it, Anakin came in.

“Don’t worry, Y/n. I’ll get it.” And he used the Force to bring the book down. “Here you go Snips, study hard.” He nudged her head, annoying her.

“Yeah, I guess… but it’s Friday. Can I read after I hang out with the other padawans? Barris and Meelo are going skating!” She gave her best puppy eyes, to which Anakin agreed, after giving it little to no thought.

“You didn’t have to give her the book, I could have done it.” You waited for Ahsoka to leave before dropping the bomb.

“Easy there, kitten. I was just helping out.” He furrowed his eyebrows. As if the unnecessary nickname wasn’t enough to drive you mad. Looking down, he saw the rest of your outfit and lingered his eyes more than necessary in your short, black skirt. “On second thought, I might have let you do it.” He smirked confidently.

“Just stay out of my way, okay?” You growled, walking away from him to your desk, not without bumping your shoulder with his on your way out.

“What the hell is your problem?” He asked with an incredulous face.

You were done. The build-up from the past month was beginning to choke down your sense of decency. Not to mention that your day was already going terrible before he appeared: the droid that would always help you out was broken, significantly delaying your work day. Also, it was laundry day and you had to use your uncomfortable lingerie.

“You know what, Skywalker?” You turned around with raised eyebrows. “You’re my problem.” He opened his eyes in bewilderment. “I don’t like you. I don’t appreciate you coming in, all macho-” You made a mocking manner. “-acting like a goddamn superhero, only after cleaning up the mess you created in the first place.” You crossed your arms in your chest.

“I’m a general, kitten, and I can assure you the war it’s not my fault.” He scoffed, he used the nickname again, knowing it would press your buttons.

“And how many times have you messed it up bigger than it was?” You squinted your eyes, only to see him run out of words. “That’s what I thought.” You came back to digitating codes. “It’s like you don’t think. You are just a machine run by adrenaline and praise.” You finally rolled your eyes in front of him without shame. You tried to run down the reports that C7, your assistant droid would do, only to fail and almost delete everything in your computer. “And I can assure you I have bigger problems than dealing with you!”

“Okay, back down-”

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You yelled, getting desperate and throwing a tantrum at the device. You had enough for the day. You could leave, given that no one would come over this late, but your sense of responsibility prevented you from going home before finishing your work load. “I fucking hate this system!”

“Let me see-”

“Don’t! Just don’t, okay?” You swatted his hand away. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Could you stop being so stuck-up and let me help you?” He raised his voice, stepping up close to tower you. His eyes were on fire and you could sense that your previous comments did get to him, but for some reason outside of your understanding, he was still willing to help.

“Fine.” You chewed the words in your mouth, stepping down as you glared at him, giving him space to analyze the situation.

Instead of leaning down the computer, he went directly to C7, who lingered weakly on the side of your desk. He picked him up and put it on the table, moving him around his hands to examine the droid. He hummed after a couple of minutes, putting the mechanical body at eye level. “I see.”

“See what? What is it?” You pressed, trying to pick a glance from over his shoulder.

“I’m going to need my tools.” He murmured, dropping the droid back again.

“Wh-”

“I’ll be right back.” He exclaimed, before heading to the door in a rush.

“Wait! What?” You shouted, the shadow of his body the only thing visible.

You stayed alone for about fifteen minutes. You even got to thinking that he was pulling a prank on you, after yelling at him. But you stayed there, because well… what else would you do? You were beginning to fall asleep as you played with paper clips, when you heard the door being opened again.

“Finally! I thought you had left!” You sighed in relief, pushing your body off your desk.

“I was getting my tools, I told you.” He frowned, lifting the heavy, dark red box to the white marble. “Now let’s bring this one back to life.” He smiled, before busting the carcass open.

It took Anakin less than what you waited for him to get C7 up and running again. He flipped panels, snapped cables and pressed buttons, at an order that seemed random to you, until C7’s mechanical eyes opened again.

“Oh my God!” You laughed in disbelief. “He’s functioning again!”

Anakin smiled down at the table, as he finished up adjusting some screws. C7 sat up, analyzing his surroundings before getting up and going straight back to work.

“I-I-” You were speechless. How did he do that? So fast? “I can’t believe you just did that.” You mumbled, still looking at C7 like it was a ghost. “Thank you, Anakin.” You turned around with apologizing eyes, twitching an embarrassed smile.

“No problem. His transmitter was disconnected from the main system. I had to fix his-” The next couple of things that he mentioned sounded like pure gibberish to you, but he was very firm, so it must be true. Right? Sensing your bafflement, he spilled facts slower and quieter until he stopped talking, finalizing with a dry smile. “Yeah, it was nothing.”

He was starting to pack everything in his toolbox again and you had a pending need to say something. However, you didn’t know if you should kick off with a real apology or-

“How did you know all that?” So a pop quiz it was. In your defense, you were genuinely curious about the abilities he had just demonstrated. Mindblown, to be more specific.

“About what?” He furrowed his brows, closing the box but leaving on the table.

“About the transmitter, and the restraining bolt, and- and-” You were running out of technical terms.

“Mechanics are second nature to me at this point.” He shrugged his shoulders, picking up the box. “I know everything about the topic, so, it was an easy fix. I’d have rearranged his central system if I had the missing part, but it’s very specific. What I did will do for now, though.”

He was about to leave when he noticed the way you were leaning on the table, head on top of your fist to pay close attention to him. You were murmuring almost unhearable “uh-huh”s, totally lost in his words.

“Sooo, you know mechanics.” You were such a hypocrite, you couldn’t stand the man fifteen minutes ago and now you were drooling over the sight of him explaining complicated shit to you. Snob. “You often fix things?” You tried to investigate, see if the throbbing happening between your legs was worth pursuing.

“Sometimes… I often go to the hangar and repair the damaged ships or flip them.” He grinned without teeth. “The techs often ask for me. They say I have an eye for these things. Been working on droids since I was a kid, so.” Anakin wasn’t trying to brag, but his ample knowledge in mechanics was something that he prided himself on.

“That seems like a lot of work.” You continued the small talk, slowly losing yourself over this spontaneous crush.

“It can get tricky.” He dismissed, beginning to notice the glint on your eyes. He recognized the way your irises had darkened: He got those fuck-me eyes wherever he went. “Still haven’t found something I can’t fix.”

But it was involuntary. The fact that he was an expert on a matter as hard as mechanics scratched a part of your brain; It flipped a switch inside of you. Anakin was a different man under your eyes now. He was smart, hella smart.

“Gosh, that’s so impressive.” You giggled like the girls that would flirt at him. Pathetic. But you quickly regained control, not before sucking up some courage and getting closer to him, posing more seductively this time. “That brain of yours sure hides lots of secrets.”

He hadn’t quite figured out why the change of heart, so it took him a moment to replay your evening together. It lasted a bit more than he liked to admit, but it hit him. Of course. An arrogant smile cracked his face. Of course you would be attracted to someone who was a master of something you consider relevant. After all, you liked to consider yourself an “intellectual”. Just to test his theory, he consciously started to brag about something else… something that would have your panties in a bunch if his hypothesis was correct.

“Wanna know another one?” He cocked an eyebrow, resting his elbow on the table to stand inches away from your face.

Your face shined with a slight pink blush, but it was the way you bit your lip that drove him crazy. That and your enthusiastic nod. “Yeah.”

“There’s a reason behind why I’m the best pilot of the fleet. And it’s not just because of my background as a pod racer or the Force.” He whispered, snickering at how soft your eyes had grown. “It’s actually because… I use physics.”

“Physics?” You almost moaned.

“Yeah, physics.” He repeated, moistening his lips, a thing your eyes followed. “Self-taught, just like with mechanics.”

That ripped a subtle whimper out of you. Well, not subtle to him.

“You-you understand math?” If it wasn’t because you were visibly squeezing your thighs at the newly acquired information, he would be completely offended that you thought he was dumb as fuck.

“Love em.” He muttered, his intense stare glued to you, as his fingers put a string of hair behind your ear.

Like thunder, you were rushing to capture his lips and show him just how hot you thought he was now. Anakin freezed at first, taking aback by your sudden demonstration of affection, but when he understood that you were willingly -and enthusiastically- giving yourself to him, he wasted no time to embrace you back.

Wet kisses splashed everywhere; it was fucking mess. You hung onto his shoulders while he groped all of your body, starting with your sweet hips, fondling your ass like it was his personal stress ball and finally landing on your waist. You pressed against him shamelessly, but in reality, how much shame could you still have when the man’s tongue was down your throat? The only thing you knew with certainty was that the sucking sounds and moans you both dropped were intensifying the already sex-filled atmosphere.

“Anakin.” You tried to sound normal, but your voice was failing just like your knees were. “W-why haven’t you gone to a proper school? Maybe get a degree?”

Was that seriously so important to you? The opinion of others? Anakin questioned in his own head.

Anakin was the kind of person that wasn’t susceptible to the opinion of others, especially regarding his own image. He was sure of the shit he knew and didn’t need anyone validating that for him. No expensive universities, no uptight professors; Obi-Wan was more than enough. Nonetheless, he had found a shortcut to get inside your pants and God as his witness, he was gonna use it.

“Y/n.” He snickered right in your face, drinking in the power. “I don’t care about any of that. I'm a certified engineer, that’s how I got to build this myself.” Removing the leather, he revealed his mechanical limb to you, wiggling his fingers.

It was fancier than you ever thought a mechanical hand could be. Black with touches of gold; it was elegant and sophisticated, way more advanced than any technology you had ever seen in the orthopedics research field. And you knew it well, your mom was an orthopedic surgeon.

It was no surprise to him that after spilling that last fact you were now shamelessly grinding on his half-hard. The fact that he was an engineering mastermind was such an aphrodisiac. And as much as he wanted to have another taste of your full, pink lips, the ones he often imagined enveloped around his dick while you scolded him, Anakin wasn’t willing to make the first move.

You were going to have to beg for it.

“Anakin?” Your hands flattened on his pecs, back arching when he cupped your cheek with the cool durasteel prosthetic, kneading against it with soft eyes. He must have noticed how captivated you were by his invention.

“Yeah, baby?” He continued the soft ministrations up and down your cheek, redirecting your gaze to his face whenever your eyes would deviate to his artificial limb.

“You- Uhm, you built it from scratch?” You gulped when his thumb inched closer to your mouth, rubbing your bottom lip and pulling it open.

Little obedient you put no resistance, and instead, stuck out your wet tongue to happily receive his digit into your warmness. But this time it was his index, the one you were bobbing your head into, eye contact not faltering even when you were practically giving oral to his hand. Anakin smiled pleased at your enthusiasm for pleasuring him and added another finger for you to lubricate.

“From scratch.” He nodded, lustful irises boring into you. “Designed it too.”

You moaned around him, feeling content with being sandwiched between his firm torso and your desk, and with your mouth being fucked by his fingers. Saliva smeared all over your chin, you whined pitifully when your lips were no longer stuffed. On the contrary of leaving you all hot and bothered, Anakin lowered those same fingers to your leaky cunt, pushing your underwear aside for easy access.

He groaned when he first inserted a finger, your gasping a sign for him to slow down. “Baby, you’re tight.” He seemed to love that about you.

After adjusting to the size of his strong index finger, Anakin breached in with his middle one, repeating the process of you getting used to the coldness and girth all over.

“A-Anakin.” You closed your eyes, involuntarily standing on your tippy toes.

“That’s right, you’re doing so well. Taking my fingers like a true champ.” He bit down a condescending smile. “Atta girl.”

The initial discomfort was just a milestone you had to overcome to succumb to the pleasure that it was being fucked by Anakin Skywalker’s metal hand. His frigid thumb came to roll over your bundle of nerves, helping you relax into him and enjoy the sensation of fully riding his hand.

“That’s it. Fuck my hand just like that, kitten.” He chuckled, finding a spot on your neck to latch on, leave a little souvenir of your encounter, and hide his pitiful laugh.

Kisses were peppered along your exposed throat, your clavicle and jaw, his long eyelashes tickling you and making you clench around his metal hand tighter. Whilst you worried about not whining too loud for anyone to enter the library, Anakin was pumping his fingers at such an unholy pace to complicate your task.

“Shhh, baby. You need to be quiet. Wouldn’t like for anyone to come in. You could lose your job.” He mocked with a side smile and you had to gripped his bicep to keep your balance. “Could you imagine? Getting caught having sex at work? With a Jedi?”

You could perceive that the trespassing of the pseudo-celibacy Jedi code was turning him to no end, the mischievous glimmer in his eyes getting stronger when he said the last sentence.

“W-We’re not having sex.” You corrected him, like it mattered. Like having him knuckles deep into you was somehow less frowned-upon than to have actual coitus.

That made him laugh and you wiggled underneath him, fighting to not let your tears fall.

“You just wait.” His lips ghosted over yours, his breath fanning over your heated face. The increase of the movements of his hand was a sign that he had noticed the contractions around his digits, fully aware that you were close. “Ready to come, baby? Gonna gush all over me?”

You nodded, biting your swollen lip, losing the battle against your tear duct. Anakin used his other thumb, the one that was not torturing your clit, to liberate your abused lip. His mouth lowered to capture yours in a hot kiss, this tongue sliding on your inside until it hit your throat. So deep into you that you would never forget his taste; so deep you will never be able to deny him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You whimpered against his smile when you reached your peak, dissolving into this meaningless mass between his arms. “Anakin…” You rode out your climax, still rocking your hips to prolong the pleasure.

Anakin waited until you regained some composure to help you fix your clothes, putting back your underwear as he found it and lowering your skirt. His actions had you frowning: Weren’t you two gonna fuck? You were already mentally prepared to welcome his enormous cock in your tiny canal.

He grinned at your puppy eyes and adorable pout, your flustered state funnier than it should be. It was almost enough to break him. But someone had to give you a lesson.

“At the end of the day, I’m just a soldier, Y/n. An incompetent one, according to you.”

Before you could protest that, he was tilting his head in an accusatory manner. Like saying: Don’t even try it. And before leaving with his head high, he spat:

“My apologies if that’s not fancy enough for you, ma’am.”

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bruisedboys · 4 months

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anakin is so boyfriend i’m so so glad you started writing for him!!

no but imagine clingy anakin after a particularly boring jedi council or smth like stroking ur hair, pressing kisses to ur temple, etc

this got me thinking so hard omg ….

anakin skywalker x fem!reader

anakin gets so clingy after his meetings, especially if they’re boring — he’s sitting there in the meeting bored to death, only thinking about you and how lovely you are and how much he’s going to smother you in kisses when he gets back. he doesn’t listen to a lick of what’s going on in the meeting, he might as well be dead with the way he stays completely silent the entire time, and he leaves so quickly nobody has time to hold him back afterwards…

when he finally gets home he’ll find you on the sofa reading and immediately plop his head into your lap like a dog. you put your book down with a soft giggle.

“hi, baby,” you say, sweet as sugar. anakin smothers his pleased grin in your thigh. you push your fingers into his hair without him having to ask, carding your fingers through his curls carefully.

“hi,” he says in a low murmur, eyelids half lidded, his chest on fire. he swears you’ve got magic in your hands. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you say back. he can hear your fond smile. his heart thumps hard in his chest. worse when you bring your other hand to dip underneath his collar and scratch gently at the top of his spine with your nails.

eventually (and if he doesn’t fall asleep on you), he’ll sit up and drag you into his lap, your thighs spread on either side of his. he’ll carefully stroke your hair away from your pretty face, lean fingers tucking it behind your ear and lingering at your jaw.

“was the meeting okay?” you ask, flushed and shy from his affections.

if he’s being honest, he can’t remember a single thing that was talked about in the meeting. it’s all a blur to him now.

he shrugs, “it was boring,” he admits. his thumb works a rough half circle into your cheek. “and I missed you.”

you hum. “yeah, you mentioned that already,” you say softly, an amused lilt to your tone.

anakin raises a brow at you. “are you teasing me, sweetheart?”

“no…” you say, though your smile gives you away.

anakin grins and presses his mouth to yours. you respond with so much warmth he feels it in his bones. your hand slides into his hair and he feels like he could downright devour you. he kisses you until you’re breathless and tugging the hair at the nape of his neck, and then some <3

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geekforhorror · 5 months

Note

pls pls plsssss i want older!anakin to fuck me where everyone could hear us so baaaaad!!! want obi wan to yell at us for being so reckless & disrespectful!! also daddy kink! imagine age gap!

pls write something about his i love your writing!!!!!!!!!

I PRACTICALLY MOANED AT THIS. ALSO I APPRECIATE THE FEEDBACK

shameless

pairing: older!anakin x fem!reader

warning(s): SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), dom!anakin, sub!reader, established age gap (anakin is 35, reader is 20), anakin is a master in this (not readers master tho!), unprotected p in v sex, dirty talk, pet names, divorced au (sorry miss amidala!), etc.

————

You always had a thing for Skywalker.

You didn’t know what made him so alluring. Maybe it was his confidence, good looks, personality, or perhaps it was all three. You had developed a crush on him from the very moment you encountered him in the temple’s halls. From then on, you could barely keep your composure around him. It started off with blushing and now it had gotten to the point where you had to clench your thighs together whenever he spoke to you. You tried your best to shield your thoughts from the confident Jedi and you thought you succeeded in doing so.

Oh, how wrong you were.

See, unbeknownst to you, Anakin had picked up on your behavior and instantly wanted to know what it was that was making you that flustered. He already had a sneaking suspicion of what was going on. Luckily, he would have the opportunity to see if he was right or not. One night, he had been assigned to be your dueling partner since your master was out on a mission. You were nervous to say the least. How the fuck were you supposed to spend an entire hour with him when you could barely keep your composure around him for more than five minutes? All you knew was that you were screwed.

————

The time had finally come where you had to meet Skywalker in the dueling chambers. Here you were, outside of the very room where the man you had grown feelings for was, yet you were too nervous to actually enter the room. You didn’t know how to describe it. Being around him was so… intoxicating, but also nerve wracking. You knew better than to let these thoughts surface during your session with him, but it would be rather tricky when you had to duel at the same time. Besides, what would he think? He would probably report you to the council the first chance he got for inappropriate behavior on your behalf. That’s why this couldn’t come to light.

To prepare yourself, you took a deep breath in and collected yourself enough before finally entering the room. As soon as you entered the room, you were met with those mesmerizing blue eyes you loved so much. They had a way of making you gaze into them until you were in a dazed-like state. It was hard to look away, but you managed to do so, keeping in mind that you couldn’t be caught doing a thing like that.

“Hello Master Skywalker. It’s a pleasure to duel with you again,” you say too cheerfully. Fuck.

“The feeling is mutual,” he replies with a rather nonchalant tone to his voice. You didn’t know what it was about his voice that always had you dripping through your panties, but fuck. Maybe it was the way his voice sounded like pure velvet.

“Are you ready?” he asks you.

“Yes,” you said a little too quick.

“Alright then. Positions!”

You do as he says and take your normal stance, which you had learned from your master. Anakin takes his signature pose, the room now filled with silence that wasn’t there before. Suddenly, his lightsaber strikes in the air and gives you barely any time to react. However, you know better than to let his hasty movements derail yours. You decide to use your instincts to your advantage.

“I’m not gonna go easy on you,” he says with a cheshire smile.

“Good,” you confidently reply.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at your rather fierce response. He always admired your boldness and confidence. It was what set you apart from all the other Jedi. However, you were also selfless and willing to sacrifice everything for the ones you loved. He saw parts of himself in you. That drive and desire.

He saw your response as an invitation to go harder on you as he swayed his body around while attempting to strike you with his wielded weapon. You blocked him with every breath you took and focused on finding his weakness. Fortunately for him, your focus on defeating him allowed him the perfect opportunity to lodge himself inside that pretty little brain of yours and see what you were hiding from him. After all, his mind reading abilities were way stronger than yours, so it was likely you wouldn’t even notice.

Suddenly, he was met with a vision. It was one of you: all alone in your quarters, wearing nothing but your lacy bra. He was met with the sight of your cunt, all covered in slick and creamy arousal. There you were, all sprawled out on the bed while plunging two of your fingers inside your needy pussy—imagining it was him stretching your tight hole until you were practically begging to cum. Just as he was about to strike, his ears were met with your needy moans.

“Fuck- Ana- Anakin,” you whined out, loud enough for bypassers in the hall to hear.

The vision disappeared just as fast as it was displayed and was replaced with another, only this one was more of a thought and more dirty than the last. This time, it was you thinking of his hands roaming your body and pounding his cock into you until you were a crying and moaning mess around him.

How could a girl like you have such nasty thoughts about her superior?

He felt himself grow hard in the confines of his pants and knew he had to get out before you noticed. When he came back, he was met with your leg swiftly coming up in the air in order to counter his previous actions. Despite being distracted for some time, he somehow overpowered the thoughts of you just enough to hit you right in the leg with his training saber, declaring victory.

“Well, well,” you heard him say.

“What is it?” you say, sounding intrigued but also confused.

“It seems like I beat you despite getting into that pretty little head of yours,” he finally admits.

“Wait what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me… I know every dirty little thought you have of me,” Anakin chuckles confidently. “It’s quite adorable, actually.

You felt a flush of embarrassment fill your cheeks as they were now a rosy shade of pink. “It’s not that hard to sense in you, angel,” he replies, reading your very thoughts. “I found them quite amusing. The way you want me to kiss all over your pretty little body, how you want me to ruin you and make you mine, the feeling of what it would be like to be taken by a man, not a mere Jedi boy. They don’t know what you want like I do,” he says cockily.

“I- I don’t know what to say,” you admit.

“Then I’ll do the talking. From the moment I first saw you, I knew I had to have you. I mean, why else do you think you ended up with me all these times your master was out? It’s because I told the others to let me train you even if it was temporary.”

“I had no idea, Master Skywalker,” you say truthfully, but also surprised at what you were hearing right now.

“I think we’re past all the formalities, don’t you? Call me Anakin,” he says.

“Anakin, I had no idea,” you correct yourself.

“That’s better. Now do you want to take this somewhere a little more… private?” he asks.

“Like where?” you ask playfully.

“Perhaps my quarters?” he suggests.

“I’d like that,” you say with an ear to ear grin, clearly showing you had gotten over your shyness.

“Follow me then,” he says before reaching his hand out to yours. You take his hand before he walks the two of you out of the room and into the dark halls of the the temple. The two of you look for anyone who may be lurking in the halls, but there’s no one. Before you know it, you guys have reached his room and that’s when he hastily opens the door and slams it just as hard.

He wastes no time before hungrily kissing you on the lips and pushing you against the wall of his room. The kiss is primarily fueled by pent-up desire that had been built up in the two of you for what seemed like forever.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this... wanted you," you pant against his lips.

"Trust me...I do," Anakin clarifies. He then moves his lips and latches them onto your neck, sucking roughly at the surrounding skin.

"Anakin..." you whine.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he responds.

"I want you to fuck me," you confess.

"You do, huh?" he rhetorically asks, already knowing the answer you would give him.

"Please Ani.. don't tease me," you pathetically say. You know how you sound right now, but you're too lost in the moment to care about any of that.

"Anything for you, baby," he coos.

With that, he swiftly grabs your hips before letting you wrap your legs around his waist. He guides the two of you toward his bed and gently lays you down. "I'm gonna treat you so well that you won't be able to think about any other man besides me... gotta have you all to myself, baby," Anakin says full of passion while undressing you until you're all bare for him and only him. He knows you want to undress him, but he stops you before you can even lay a hand on any of his garments. He starts to strip himself of any and all clothes he previously had on and maker, his body did not disappoint. Despite his age, he had kept most of the lean physique he had when he was in his twenties. His abs were sculpted to absolute perfection. The way his waist was so defined practically had you drooling. He was perfect in every way. Even his dick was. It was all red at the tip and sat upright, but the thing that stood out the most was how long and thick it was.

"Eyes up here, darling," he says with a slight laugh.

"I don't know if I can take all of that," you shamefully admit.

"You want it though, don't you?" Anakin asks.

"Yes."

That was all you had to say before he positioned himself on the bed and instantly inserted himself inside your tight pussy, giving you no time to adjust to his size as he thrusts into your greedy walls. You immediately felt full of his thick cock and felt yourself clench around him.

"Need to train this hole if you're gonna be all mine," he grits.

"Please!" you cry out, digging your nails into his defined shoulders, which only eggs him on even further.

"Need to ruin you for any other guys, yeah?" he goes on.

You can only nod your head yes due to the newfound pleasure filling your body. No other man had made you feel this good. Maybe it was because one of them had experience like Anakin did. Relationships were strictly forbidden for Jedi to have, but there were rumors about Senator Padme Amidala being pregnant with Anakin's children. You thought they were merely rumors, but that was before you had his cock deep inside your weeping cunt, thrusting until you were all raw and sore. Before tonight, you never knew that's what you wanted.

"Harder!" you beg of him.

"Poor little thing... hasn't been full of my cock for more than 5 minutes and is already begging for more" he tuts.

"Please, daddy!" you scream.

"That's right baby," he says in a soft yet promising tone.

Fulfilling your needs, he spreads your legs even further to get an even better angle of your pussy before animalistically pounding his fat cock into your swollen walls. You couldn't help but loudly moan at his movements. You knew you were giving other people the chance to hear what was going on, but you were too cock drunk to care. The sound of skin hitting skin filled the thin walls of the room and probably the entire hall, as a matter of fact. You felt too full to even form coherent thoughts. He wasn't planning on slowing down anytime soon now that you had given him the green light to go harder. He wouldn't stop until you were a crying mess.

A familiar feeling started to form as you saw stars in your blurred vision. You felt a rope of heat fill your stomach and knew you wouldn't be able to hold off for much longer.

"'M so close Master...please let me cum!" you cry out.

"Just hold on for a bit longer... wanna make you feel as good as possible," he replies. You nod your head at this and comply with his words. He suddenly then ruts his hips even rougher on yours, knowing you would be bruised for days to come.

"I'm gonna-" you start to say.

"Let go for me baby. I've got you... cum all over my cock."

With his permission, you finally let go and spill all over him while he's still fucking you through it. He groans at the feeling of your warmth around his hard cock and cums shortly after. He pulls out of you before lying down next to you. "You did so well for me, darling," he says in a reassuring manner.

Just as you're about to speak, there's a sudden knock on the door that alerts the two of you. The two of you rush to put your clothes on, not wanting to answer the door naked for whoever is on the other side. Once the two of you are fully dressed, Anakin opens the door and it's none other than your master Obi-Wan.

Shit, the two of you were screwed.

"I see that the two of you are finally done engaging in....activities. However, please remember that some of us were forced to listen to your obscenities. Please come with me otherwise you will be dealing with far worse!" he says in an almost lecturing dad tone.

This was gonna be a long night.

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin star wars #hayden christensen #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars fandom #star wars anakin #anakin x reader #attack of the clones

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starbeltconstellation · 8 months

Text

Rewrite the Stars

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Modern Girl! OC

Prologue

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You cannot swim for new horizons until you have courage to lose sight of the shore.

—William Faulkner

˚・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.｡˚

"Isn't it sad how his life will turn out?" Linda Bains sighs, bottom lip pulling out in a pout as she leans back into the white pillow of the hospital bed.

The portable dvd screen on Linda Bain's lap flashes by with Anakin Skywalker's face on it, taking in his baffled and serious face as he mutters an, "We lost something", before flashing on to Obi-Wan Kenobi's sarcastic response.

"Mom, he is literally space Hitler." Melanie Bains mumbles into her mother's shoulder, body tucked into her side as she lays with her on the hospital bed. Her words have no heat to them though. She just sounds simply amused.

"Oooh, but that hair though." Her mother says, fanning herself. "You know, if I were healthy and twenty years younger—"

"Mom!" Melanie cuts in with a squeal of embarrassment, and Ms. Bains simply laughs.

"Gosh, you're so serious, honey," Ms. Bains chuckles. "You gotta lighten up a li—"

Her mother suddenly chokes off into a series of hacking coughs, and Melanie scrambles from the bed to get a glass of water.

Ms. Bains tries to wave her away, but Melanie will have none of it, wrapping her mother's fingers around the cool glass and lifting it to her lips.

"Drink slow." Melanie warns.

Ms. Bains gives her daughter a roll of her eyes, but says nothing as she takes a slow gulp of the water. She hands it back over to her daughter and Melanie sits it off to the side table before she perches carefully on the bed again.

"Better?" Melanie asks, eyeing her mother carefully.

"Yes, honey." Her mother stresses, looking a little miffed. "Gosh, it was just a little cough. There was no need for you to get up from the bed." Her mother suddenly sighs, looking morose. "I didn't mean to ruin our Star Wars marathon."

"Mom, you didn't ruin anything." Melanie reassures. "You can't help being sick."

"I could help with being in this dang bed or not." Ms. Bains mutters under her breath, crossing her arms and gazing to one side, looking petulant.

"Mom..." Melanie warns, voice tinging with something like pain. "You promised."

The bright hospital room has a moment full of stubborn silence.

Then Ms. Bains sighs, head hanging in resignation.

"I did." Ms. Bains acknowledges, gazing back over at her daughter. "One chemo treatment. But that's all," she stresses, face serious.

Melanie frowns. "But—"

"No buts."

"Mom, this is ridiculous! Why can't you just try—" she starts again, frustration bubbling through.

"I said no, Melanie!" Ms. Bains snaps. "And that's final. I am not going to kid myself with thinking that I'm going to get some miracle cure by doing this when I already have stage four lu—"

Ms. Bains freezes, cutting herself off just short of saying the full dreaded sentence; the one that had been like the dull ringing of an alarm bell in Melanie's ears since she had first heard it from her mother's doctor so long ago now.

Melanie's breath hitches at the reminder. At the clock that seemed to be counting down over her mother's head whenever she looked at her.

Her knees buckle, and she just barely manages to collapse into the chair at her mother's bedside, before she leans over, palms pressing against the growing tears burning behind her eyes.

Silence eats up the room again. And it's stifling, the way the chasm seems to split between the two of them in this moment.

Finally, her mother finds the courage to break it.

"Mel, honey..." Ms. Bains's voice trembles with emotion, clearly affected by her daughter's pain, "I'm not going to get any better. You know that."

Melanie sniffles, lifting her head to gaze up at her mother's eyes.

"Y-You don't kn-know that." she says, bottom lip wobbling at she holds in her tears.

Her mom's hand reaches out and clutches Melanie's shaking shoulder, thumb rubbing up and down soothingly.

"The doctors already told us about the life expectancy rate," Ms. Bains reminds her gently, watching as Melanie's eyes squeeze shut in an effort to block the words out. "It... it just doesn't look good for be, baby." she says, a sad chuckle spilling out from her lips as her face twists into a pained grimace.

"Bu-But... the chemo treatments could—"

"I am not about to leave my daughter with an insane amount of medical bills, just because I couldn't accept what was right in front of me." Ms. Bains interrupts sternly.

Melanie frowns, hand reaching up to clutch at her mothers own that had been rubbing at her shoulder soothingly. "But I don't mind helping you! I could take more rock climbing guide shifts and—"

"—I know you don't mind helping me, Mel." Her mother interrupts. "The point is that I do mind. I mind a lot, actually." she smiles, expression proud. "I'm not going to let you waste your money on me, because you are going to need that money to help build your business—"

"—Mom." Melanie's voice has grown to carry an exasperated edge to it. "Please, be serious—"

"—Oh, but I am being serious." Ms. Bains has a genuine twinkle in her eyes now. "I expect you to finish that poetry manuscript before I'm dead, you know—"

"Mom!" Melanie snaps, expression pained. "Please, can we just... look, maybe you're right, but can we just please not talk about that right now?"

That thing, as in her mother's death.

Her mother's hand comes up to wipe the tear tracks that rolled down Melanie's cheeks without her knowledge.

Melanie's eyes squeeze shut in pain at the next words that are spoken.

"We'll have to talk about it eventually, baby." Ms. Bains says, as gently as she can with Melanie's fragile mental state.

Silence. Then—

"I know." Melanie murmurs, voice cracking.

Melanie sniffles again, and Ms. Bains's face seems to break open.

Ms. Bains opens her arms wide. "Hey, come here."

Melanie crawls again into her mother's hospital bed, clutching to her tightly.

She doesn't know why, in this moment, it finally occurs to her that she only has a limited amount of time left each day to hug her mom.

A dark, haunting fear seems to slide over her, swallowing her up.

How is she supposed to live without her?

A wounded sound escapes her, and then she starts to sob like a child, face burrowing into her mom's shoulder like she could bury herself there.

She feels as fingers curl through her hair, stroking the back of her head in a calming gesture.

"Mel."

Nothing. She is inconsolable.

"Mel, honey, look at me."

Melanie continues to sob, squeezing her mom tightly to her.

Finally, the body she has been leaning against starts to sit up, and Melanie is forced to move along with it as her mother pushes both herself and her daughter up.

"Melanie." Ms. Bains's voice echoes around the room firmly, commanding attention now.

"W-What?" she hiccups, voice full of tears as she raises her head up.

She watches as her mom reaches forward to wrap her fingers around the golden heart locket that lays against the column of Melanie's pale throat.

"Do you remember when I gave this to you?" Ms. Bains asks quietly.

Melanie's brows furrow in confusion as she raises a hand to scrub at the tears clouding her vision. Her chest still rises and falls erratically as she tries to get her breathing back under control.

"It... it was for my birthday," she says, reaching up as she fiddles with the chain of the necklace.

"Do you remember why I gave it to you?" Her mother asks again, expression serious.

A beat.

She swallows, lip wobbling as she tells her in a quiet voice, "Y-You gave it to me a few weeks after... after we learned about—"

The cancer.

She can't make herself say the words yet, because it feels like admitting something, like giving into something inevitable if she does. As if she is giving into a doomed fate she cannot escape.

But she does remember what her mother is talking about. A few weeks after learning the devastating truth of her mom's condition, Melanie's birthday had been just around the corner, and embarrassingly enough, she hadn't even remembered until her mom had informed her of it, asking where she wanted to go.

Melanie had already been paranoid about her mom's condition, insisting that it would be perfectly fine to just stay at home for her birthday; maybe get a cake or something later.

And so, that's what they did.

Melanie, in a show of complete ineptitude, had actually assumed that her mom would drop the subject after that.

It wasn't until Melanie had came home, nearly dead on her feet as a tour guide for another rock climbing expedition, that she had been surprised to near tears to see how her house had been transformed into basically a one woman surprise party by her mother, balloons and streamers everywhere.

After a good hug and cry, her mother had sat her down to give her a present.

And, inside a black velvet box, had been the gold heart locket that laid around her neck now.

Melanie's mother fiddles more with the necklace now as they both sit sprawled out on the hospital bed.

"I told you that the locket had an inscription in it." Ms. Bains murmurs, still staring down at it, her eyes somewhere far away.

Melanie swallows again, a lump building in her throat at the reminder.

"I told you..." Her mother says, "...that the inscription would be something to keep with you. Something to remind you of me, even after..."

Even after I'm gone.

Her mom pauses, looking down, before she purses her lips in determination, lifting her face back to look at Melanie's. "You asked me what good it would do to have an inscription in it that you wouldn't even be able to see after you had put in a picture, and I told you that the inscription wasn't meant to be seen all the time."

She feels the clink of metal as her mom lets go and the necklace falls firmly back into place over the top of her collarbone.

She feels it again as her mom taps the locket with her finger in emphasis of her next words.

"The inscription; the words, are meant to be felt. Because even if you can't see them, you still know they're there with you."

Melanie stares, eyes burning with tears again, as her mom's lips twist into a sad smile.

"Just a little bit away." Ms. Bains finishes, voice shaking with emotion.

Slowly, the wide, gaping chasm of dark fear that had been swallowing Melanie started to pull back. She gazed at her mom, green eyes slowly unclouding, the dull ache in her chest easing with every moment.

Melanie's fingers slid down the chain, down to the locket that lays around her neck, fingers sliding over the cool metal gently.

The locket; the inscription inside it, was her anchor keeping her to the shore.

Melanie realizes, slowly, in this moment, that she has to let her mom go.

She could beg and plead for her mom to continue with the chemotherapy, and maybe, if she cried hard enough, her mom would give in.

But it wouldn't be right.

Her mom wouldn't be happy. She already wasn't happy, hooked up to as many machines as she was now, when all she wanted to do was be at home and live what was left of the rest of her life.

She finds herself finally acknowledging something that she had refused to consider before.

This; all of this— the months Melanie had spent working overtime to raise enough money to convince her mother to get a round of chemotherapy, had been about her.

She hadn't wanted to let go. And, even though she knew her mom hadn't wanted to, she had convinced her to come anyways.

This, it wouldn't cure her.

It was just delaying the inevitable.

Melanie lets out a breath, finally accepting it.

"You'll always be here." she says quietly, voice weak as her fingers slowly wrap around her mom's pale hand.

Ms. Bains lips twitch into a sad smile, murmuring:

"Just a little bit away."

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Melanie's hand slams against the jagged edge of rock that sticks out from around the mountain she is strapped to with her rock climbing gear, blonde strands of hair sticking to her neck as sweat seeps down her face.

She hisses, almost yanking her hand back at the sharp sensation that hits the top part of her palm.

Shit.

She cut herself.

She had been careless, her mind elsewhere as she worries, even now, over her mom's condition.

She curses outwardly, gritting her teeth, upper muscles straining as she struggles to pull herself the last bit of climbing rope and to the top of the mountain.

She growls lowly in frustration as her muscles start to shake. She knows this is dangerous. She should stop and take a break. But there was some stubborn part of her that refused to give into that temptation at the moment. It was almost as if she was trying to prove something to herself in this moment, now that she had finally decided to let her mom go, when the time came.

It was almost as if, if she made it up this mountain, she could make it through anything, even with her mother one day no longer by her side.

"Fuck, come on," she groans, shoes digging into the flattest edges of the mountain as she struggles to lift the rest of her body up.

Finally, her head just barely managed to peek over the top part of the mountain. She blinked, green eyes squinting against the bright light that suddenly burned over the top of the mountain.

While still holding onto the climbing rope, her other hand, which had still been digging into the rock wall under her head, blindly reached up to push against the flat surface of ground now near her.

Her upper body screamed in protest, but Melanie would not quit, face all but flattened into the dirt of the ground as she heaved her body over the last bit of rock wall.

"Fuck. Fuuuuck." she says, chest heaving as she lays there for a moment, face still smushed into the ground.

She groans slowly rolling over onto her back, peering up at the blue sky that is filled with swirling clouds.

A sound bubbles from out of her chest; a burst of breathless giggles.

"I did it." she whispers to herself.

A few minutes pass like that, with Melanie just lying there on the top of the mountain, her feet still dangling off the edge, when she finally starts to pull herself to her feet.

She scoots backwards, ignoring the dirt all over her black tank top and cargo pants, as she unhooks her harness from the climbing rope. Then, she slowly pulls herself to her feet, wobbling for a moment before regaining her balance.

The view is stunning.

No matter how many times she rock climbs, she can never grow tired of this. Of the view. The pure serenity and beauty of nature.

It reminds her of a piece of poetry she had read a while ago, by—what was his name?—oh, yes, E.F. Hayward—while waiting in the hospital waiting rooms for her mother to come back from one of her many checkups.

I love to dwell in forest wild, Where giant pine trees pierce the sky; A beauty spot where Nature smiled—

"A fitting place to live and die," she murmurs, reverently as she gazes out over the horizon as the sun washes over everything down below.

Melanie's hand lifts to shade her face from the blinding sunlight that gleams out over the horizon, just barely peeking out from behind the clouds. Her green eyes gaze with wonder over the wide expanse of greenery and the blue sky that meets it down the middle. And, there, in the background, she can just barely make out the expanse of shining metal towers and buildings, which would lead her back to civilization; to California, when she was finally done with this expedition for the day.

She hadn't been planning to come out here today. She had no rock climbing tours planned today, but her mom's parting words from yesterday must have gotten stuck in her head somehow, without Melanie even realizing it.

Before she left the hospital room last night, she had fussed over her mom a little bit more, almost as if she were a mother hen herself.

"Okay, so you have your blankets—"

"Yes." Her mom had sounded exasperatingly amused.

"The TV is on, your clothes are in the closet whenever you'll need them—"

"Mel—"

"Oh! A drink! Do you need a drink? I'll get you a drink."

"Melanie—" Her mom had just been plain exasperated by that point.

"And don't forget to tell them that you need to take your blood pressure medicine twice a day!"

"Melanie!"

She still remembers how her mouth had snapped shut at that point, in pure shock at her mom's sharp voice ringing throughout the room.

But she had had no reason to be worried. Her mom had only done it to gain her attention.

When Melanie's gaze had finally locked with her mom's, her mother's lips had started to twitch upward into a fond smile.

"Melanie," Ms. Bains had began, speaking slowly and clearly as if to emphasize her point. "I. Will. Be. Fine." She shook her head then, still fondly exasperated. "You worry too much, honey. Live a little!" She grinned, splaying her arms out. "Go on an adventure! But stop sitting here worrying about someone who will be right here when you get back."

Melanie's lips quirk up into a smile, still thinking about those words, even now.

Her mom had always been a free spirit.

She had been an artist to the end, painting to her heart's content, even though the art had never really made her much money.

Melanie wonders sometimes if that's why her mom is so focused on Melanie's own poetry succeeding, where her mom's art had 'failed' at making a living.

It was a nice thought.

But naive, as far as Melanie was concerned.

Melanie had tried, at one point. Had been planning on going to college, getting an art degree. But it just hadn't been in the cards. College was too expensive, and the arts, no matter what kind they were, paintings or poetry or otherwise, just didn't make enough for it to be worth it.

She still wrote her own poetry in her spare time, but it was—was—

A hobby.

Nothing more.

Melanie had worked as a secretary, originally, before all of this. It had paid alright, but after learning of her mother's condition, she had scrambled to get some type of job that would pay even the slightest bit more.

Rock climbing had been a surprise.

If you had told her, two years ago, that she would be climbing even ten feet off the ground, she would have laughed in your face.

But she had done it. Had taken the job, from an old high school friend that had suggested it to her, and while it would never be what her true happiness was—

She... enjoyed it. To an extent.

She liked the thrill of the climb; of the ache in her muscles.

But, most of all, she loved the view she had once she made her way to the top.

It was her artist eye, as her mother called it.

Whatever it was, she was glad she decided to come up here today, before visiting her mother in the hospital; was glad that she had taken this little adventure.

Her mom had never gotten to have that.

It was at that moment, that Melanie had the strangest thought.

Why not bring some of the adventure to her?

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

She had passed by this shop before, one too many times, as she had walked around the hospital building to get back to her car that would be parked down the road.

She remembers the first time ever laying eyes on it.

She had been in a rush to park her car and race down to the hospital after dropping her mom off at the front door.

The bright lights surrounding the small display window drew her eye, and her gaze had flickered over quickly to read the sign that had been perched precariously in the window.

Come inside and go on an adventure!

And then she had been off again, the words and the shop sent to the back of her mind.

Until now.

Melanie takes in the swirling carving designs that have been engraved into the wood of the entrance door of the shop.

It was—what would her mom have called it?

Vintage. That was a good word.

The antique shop was small, the building almost seeming to have been squeezed between the hulking masses of the two fancier stores next to it; almost as if it had been placed there as an afterthought, and not something that had been there beforehand.

Melanie sighs, turning her mind back to the task at hand.

While most people would be more than happy with a stuffed animal or flowers for a get well present, Melanie knows her mother is different.

Her mother had always much preferred things that were old and had seen the passage of time go by.

Hopefully I'll be able to find something in here that she likes. Melanie thinks, pushing open the swirl engraved wooden door and stepping into the antique shop.

The ding of the bell above the door registers dimly in her ears as she looks around the small store.

It was actually a little bigger than she was anticipating.

The ceiling was fairly high up, with rows of strange, sparkling crystals hanging from thick wire attached to the roof.

The shop was spread out; most of the rows of nicknacks and old-timey relics moved to the side walls.

Not a speck of hardwood floor could be seen. The floor of the shop was filled with dozens of carpets and rugs strewn about the building.

The middle area of the building was empty, left clear for customers to roam about and to go up to the front desk ahead to check out items or to ask questions.

Speaking of—where was the person at the front desk?

She frowns, growing confused.

The sign did say open until 7:00pm, right? She thinks to herself, growing worried. It would be disappointing to have to leave. She knows her mom would love this place.

Melanie clears her throat, before awkwardly saying, rather loudly, "Hello?"

She stops. Waits. But there is nothing. All that can be heard in the eerie silence of the shop is the slow tick, tick of a pendulum clock that hangs near the right wall behind the front desk.

She thinks, in this moment, about leaving and maybe coming back tomorrow.

And yet, for some inexplicable reason she cannot name, Melanie decides to stay.

She walks forward, taking in the rows of shelves near the left wall. Two are filled to the brim with leather books that look to be falling apart at the edges.

She lifts a hand and takes one off the shelf, coughing and waving her hand in disgust at the cloud of dust that flies off the shelf at that moment.

"Doesn't anyone clean in here?" Melanie says out loud, quite aware she is speaking to no one.

She opens the book to check what the story is about, what with the cover having been worn off ages ago with overuse.

Alice in Wonderland, the front page shows, and Melanie sighs in disappointment.

"Ah, Mom already has this one." she mutters, putting the old book back on the shelf.

She walks around to look at the other two shelves behind the books, briefly glancing over at old-timey looking figurines and jewelry, but nothing seems to catch her eye to something her mom might be interested in.

Minutes fly by like this, with Melanie wandering around the shop and glancing from shelf to shelf, but nothing seems to be the perfect thing she is hoping to find.

What is she even searching for?

She supposes that she doesn't really know.

Something that says, I love you. That I care. That I pay attention to the things you enjoy.

Something that feels like a piece of an unknown story has been brought before her, awaiting to be revealed.

Well, she supposes that is a bit of a tall order.

Still, there has to be something— she continues to think, green eyes furrowing in frustration as she glances around, before suddenly freezing as something that glints in the sunlight that pierces through the curtains of the display window catches her eye.

It's a beautifully designed and painted music box. It sits perched inside the display of a large curio cabinet that stands near the corner of the shop, right by the front desk.

But, what's so astounding is that it isn't just any type of music box.

No. It can't be...

But it is.

The Music box that lays trapped inside the glass is a stunningly detailed Star Wars themed music box.

But it was more than just a box. It was a replica. A beautiful handcrafted replica of the characters Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, both of their blue lightsabers crossed in the throes of battle.

Both of the figures stood above the flattened red of the bottom of the music box, which was painted with red and carved into simmering waves of lava that raged around them; a clear reference to the battle between the two men at Mustafar.

But, see, that—that isn't what's so strange.

What's strange is how—how ancient it looks.

It doesn't look like something that had been made with the material from the modern era. It looks as if it was something that was made centuries ago. It was in wonderful condition, but it still had a type of antique look to it that could not be hidden.

And it was so—

So detailed! Melanie thinks, her eyes widening in pure amazement as she leans forward to look at the music box, squinting to get a better look past the glass that continues to gleam from the sun pouring in from the main window.

She huffs in frustration at the stupid light, looking around again for a moment, and, when she still sees no one, carefully opens the curio cabinet's glass door to get a better look.

Carefully, she picks up the music box with gentle fingers, mindful of the top of the figurines accidentally hitting against the top of the cabinet as she pulls it out to get a better look.

"Wow..." she whispers in awe, trailing off as her fingers run over the smooth surface of the material. She wonders what it could be made out of that gave it this ancient look, while still allowing the colors to shine through as well as it does.

Up close, the details are even better than she imagined. Anakin and Obi-Wan's figures were painted and carved with the most painstaking care. The curves and lines of each point of their Jedi attire were taken into account when making the design for each of them. The lightsabers they grip in their hands are no different, the hard plaines of metal that went into the design of each lightsaber was shown in the finest detail as Melanie squinted at them.

But what was really astonishing was the level of detail in each of the men's faces. Both were scrunched up in rage and pain, but, if one looks close enough, you can still see the higher level of rage that must have been engraved and painted into Anakin's eyes.

She grins widely.

This is perfect! Her mom will love it!

As gentle as a feather, she slowly moves one hand down to the bottom of the music box to slowly twist the nob that would wind it up—

"Enjoying yourself?"

Fuck!

Melanie jumps, heart thudding in her chest at the unexpected sound.

She turns, guiltily, while still holding the music box, to see the smirking form of an older dark-haired woman behind her, who was dressed in a curious purple themed outfit.

Melanie supposes this is the shopkeeper she had been waiting for before she became distracted looking around.

The nameless woman casually leans one elbow against the front desk as she stands there, seemingly amused with Melanie's discomfort.

Melanie stutters in embarrassment at having been caught taking the music box from its glass case. "I—I am so sorry, I was just—"

"Well, now don't stop on my account, hun," The Shopkeeper says, lips pulling upwards into a full grin. She raises a hand, gesturing for Melanie to continue.

A beat. They stare at each other.

The Shopkeeper raises an eyebrow.

Melanie finally manages to snap out of it and look back towards the object in her hand.

"I—I really am sorry," she starts again, leaning over to gently put the music box back in its rightful place in the curio cabinet. "It's just so beautiful—"

"—Nothing to apologize for." The Shopkeeper croons, leaning up to slowly stroll towards her, and Melanie has no idea why, but she suddenly feels as if she is in the clutches of a predator. "It calls out to most people." she murmurs, coming to a stop beside Melanie's form as she gazes beyond the glass to look at the music box herself.

Still, Melanie was lucky she hadn't broken it. Who knows how expensive the damn thing is.

Speaking of which—

"By the way," Melanie begins, "I w-was just—wondering, I suppose—how much something like this is?"

The Shopkeeper turns to her, arms crossing over her chest as she stares into Melanie's face, as if she is looking at something beyond her physical form, and is judging it accordingly.

Silence.

"You know, like to buy." she clarifies, thinking perhaps the woman had misunderstood her.

A moment, as the nameless woman's dark and empty eyes gaze at her own.

Then, there is a blink, and it's as if the yawning emptiness had never been there at all.

"To buy?" The Shopkeeper chuckles, placing a hand on her chest, sounding very amused. "Oh, no, no, no, honey; I'm afraid this just isn't for sale."

Melanie blinks, gaping, as the rug is seemingly pulled out from under her.

She watches as The Shopkeeper struts by her and back around to the other side of the front desk.

"B-But!" Melanie stutters, turning and all but chasing after the woman, "But I don't understand. It's in the shop. Why would it be here if it isn't for sale?"

The Shopkeeper seems unbothered by her plight, simply grinning and shrugging her shoulders.

"I like to keep around the objects of my ire." The Shopkeeper says, confusing Melanie even more. "It reminds me to stay on my toes."

And Melanie, she should really let this go, she doesn't really understand why she is continuing to push this so much, but—

But it's perfect. Melanie thinks, eyeing the music box despairingly as it sits locked behind glass once again.

She'll never find anything else that her mom will love so much. And she wants to do this—now that she has excepted the inevitable—she wants to get something that her mom will remember forever, because Star Wars had been something her mom has loved since she was a child.

"Look, I can't pay an ungodly amount, but I do have some savings saved up—" she says, leaning against the glass of the front desk, but her mouth snaps shut as The Shopkeeper raises her hand in a zip it gesture.

"Ah, ah, ah!" The woman says, raising a finger and pointing it at Melanie chidingly, "Not. For..."

The Shopkeeper leans across the desk, poking Melanie on her nose like a child.

"Sale!" The Shopkeeper finishes, smiling brightly at Melanie's befuddled expression.

Melanie blinks once, and then sighs, deflating like a balloon as she accepts defeat.

"Okay. Fine," she accepts, giving in as she struggles to move on from the stunning music box, "I'm trying to get a present for my mom who's been in the hospital. She's always really been into the arts and old antique collections like this place," she says, gesturing around at the building.

"Ah! Wanting to bring a bit of the adventure to her, huh?" The Shopkeeper says, eyebrows wiggling a little as she references the sign outside.

Melanie gives a half-hearted smile. "Something like that."

The Shopkeeper hums, tapping a finger to her chin, a small smirk appearing on her lips. "You know... I don't usually do this, but I could get you an adventure book from one of my personal collections. For the right price, of course."

Melanie's lips dip downwards just the slightest bit. "Of course."

Maybe this was a mistake.

"Would you like me to bring a stack out for you to choose from?" The Shopkeeper asks.

"You have them here?" Melanie questions, face confused.

"Why, of course I do, dear!" The Shopkeeper exclaims, chuckling at her expression. "What do you think I was doing while you were bumbling around in here?"

Melanie's face turns pink as she ducks her head, mumbling embarrassingly to herself as The Shopkeeper laughs again in amusement.

"Just wait right here for a moment!" The Shopkeeper tells her with a smirk, before turning and walking down the dark hallway to the back of the store where employees would usually go.

Melanie sighs, standing there for a moment as she waits.

Seconds tick by, and, slowly, her gaze turns back to the curio cabinet with the music box locked inside it.

She isn't pouting.

Okay, so maybe she is just a little bit.

She turns and slowly makes her way back over to the glass cabinet, staring at the music box forlornly, when she has a thought pass over her.

Maybe she can't buy the music box, but she can still take a picture of it to show her mom, at least.

Melanie perks up a little, feeling better about the situation.

She takes her phone out of her pocket, pulling up the camera on her phone and pointing it towards the music box.

But, as she goes to take the picture, the camera won't focus. The glare of the sunlight continues to gleam off the glass cabinet in front of the music box, ruining the picture.

Melanie grumbles under her breath in frustration.

She glances over her shoulder to where the Shopkeeper had gone a moment ago, biting her lower lip in thought.

It'll just take a second.

Carefully, she opens the glass door of the cabinet again. As she pulls her phone out now, the camera focuses easily on the beautifully crafted music box.

Click.

The flash goes off as she takes the picture, and Melanie grins.

There. Perfect.

But then, before she can put her phone down, the picture starts to move.

Except, it's not the picture, Melanie realizes, as she slowly lowers her phone to gaze into the glass cabinet.

It's the music box. Somehow, without her even touching it, the thing has started to wind itself up without Melanie even realizing it.

Another click.

Soft, gentle beats of twinkling music start to emit from the music box. It—It almost sounds like—

Star Wars, she thinks wildly, heart thudding.

And then, the two figurines of Anakin and Obi-Wan begin to move, the engraved circular red lava they are on moving with them as they start to spin in circles; the slow, mechanical movements of their arms going back and forth, back and forth as they bang their lightsabers together in a battle of wills.

There is a dull ringing in her ears, and she feels, somehow, again, that she is on the precipice of something that she cannot escape.

A loud crack echoes through the room.

The figures of Anakin and Obi-Wan start to spin faster and faster.

Another ear splitting crack. Then another and another, when Melanie finally sees that it is the music box itself that is cracking, and not anything else around it.

The red ceramic lava that the spinning figures are fighting on has started to break.

Small, glowing fractures start to appear more and more as the music box seems to start rupturing in on itself.

Her hand lowers. She hears a thud as something falls to the ground.

She continues to stare, with an almost morbid fascination, as the music box starts to shake, an eerie green glow starting to gleam through the chinks in its armor.

All the while, Obi-Wan and Anakin spin faster and faster.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!"

Melanie's head snaps over.

And for a moment, The dark-haired Shopkeeper is there, face twisting into a snarl as she leers behind the front desk.

And then, a flicker, and in the Shopkeeper's place is a snarling creature with large claw-like hands and a maw with a row of sharp teeth that stretches from ear to ear.

Melanie opens her mouth to scream, but she never gets the chance.

Reality bends around her.

And then everything explodes.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Aaaannnd... cue Star Wars Theme! Lol.

Mel: Can I touch the music box?

The Shopkeeper: Of course! :)

Mel: Can I have it?

The Shopkeeper: No! 😡 Not for sale!

Mel: Why the fuck would you show it to me if I can’t have it?!! 😭😑

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #sw fanfiction #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x oc #anakin skywalker/reader #anakin skywalker/oc #anakin x reader #anakin x oc #pro jedi #in defense of the jedi #in defense of the jedi order #jedi #in defense of the jedi council #pro jedi council #pro jedi order #jedi culture respected #isekai #modern girl in star wars

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bb-eilish · 10 months

Text

Dirty little fantasies

pairing; master!anakin skywalker x fem!padawanreader

warnings; Fantasies, pinning, corruption kink, virgin reader, dom! anakin, sub! reader, nipple play, creampie, hand kink, dirty talk, praising, degradation, cunnilingus

a/n; i’ve never written for anakin before but i love star wars and i love writing smut so here u go!

Y/n was honestly surprised she ever became a Jedi apprentice. She was much older than the younglings, but Obi-wan and his own apprentice, Anakin, pushed for her training anyway. The council questioned who would be training her, as all of the masters already had Padawan of their own. Her hopes shattered when Master Yoda pointed out the obvious fact.

She was told the force was strong within her , not sure what that meant, y/n smiled and became excited anyway.

"Master, my Padawan is surely ready for his test. He has my full confidence. He will be able to train her." Obi-wan stepped forward, eyebrows furrowed as Anakin nodded, a serious expression scorched onto his face.

The council all had similar curious and questioning looks, but nodded anyways. "Alright, we will allow it." Master Windu sighed, putting his hand up. Y/n's eyes widened and every fiber in her being felt on fire, this is the most exciting thing she's ever experienced, and it hasn't even started yet.

The three of them exited the room and immediately a hurl of thank you's and smiles gush out of her towards the men. Their faces softened as they smiled.

—————

Y/n was now an adult, though, she wasn't very young when she became an apprentice, only several years had passed. Anakin was a great Master and she felt very lucky. The way everyone talked about him was fascinating, they praised him left, right, and center. They even became closer than she expected, being closer in age than other Padawan and Master pairs made that entirely possible.

"Master, wait up. Why are your legs so long." Y/n complained as she jogged up to Anakin's side once more, she swears he can take two steps and be a mile ahead of her. He chuckles before saying, "You ask that every time we walk together." Her nose scrunches at his teasing. But at the same time, her heart skips a beat and she swallows quietly. Though, she tries her hardest to keep down the way her body practically yearns for him. The hardest part is keeping the thoughts, the oh so delicious thoughts about him, to a 0 whenever he's near. The force is amazing in so many ways but a real pain in the ass when all she wants do is day dream about him.

"Great job by the way, the mission wouldn't have gone as well as it did without you. You're becoming a considerable Jedi." He looks over at her as she thanked him. He can't help but think about how much she's grown while being under his wing. In power and physically. Anakin was no liar, he couldn't possibly deny the fact she has matured into a fully fledged woman, Padawan or not, he couldn't keep his eyes to himself. He had to push down the thoughts as well.

Anakin was fully aware of her daily thoughts. It made his day whenever he could know what she was thinking before she even entered the room. They were always innocent and random, until recently. Y/n clouded her thoughts much more, and at random times of the day and night, the hairs on the back of his neck would stand up, goosebumps would frost his skin and he had no idea why. The thoughts he could read were innocent in nature, but all about him. What he was wearing that day, how he decided to style his hair, certain things he said to her. His ego inflated each time and it made him even more arrogant and confident.

But alas, Jedi's were not allowed to become attached. He wondered if he needed to remind her of that, but he decided against it. Having a crush on him wasn't a crime.

—————

Anakin waited for her at her door that morning, he always does when they train at this time, which is only a few times a week. As he neared the door her thoughts became more apparent, at first she was busy with brushing her hair, then it was her tying her robes, and then they drifted off to him. He could see she was thinking about the time he had to help her untie the small knot she made in her robes. It made him smile, it was almost impossible to untie it. But his smile slowly faded as he realized her attention, unwavering, was directed to his hand. Not him untying the knot in general per say, but the way his calloused hand and metal one gripped the fabric, and how his very visible veins bulged through his skin.

He could sense how hard she focused on it, and how the thought of his hands sent her spiraling into day dreams. He was about to knock to end his spying before something caught him off guard. The waves of want that echoed from her, he could feel the stuttered deep breath she let out as she thought about his hands on her. How they would feel to prod at her most sensitive areas as he spoke downright sinful words towards her.

He felt like the air was knocked from his lungs as she thought in detail about the things he would say. The hair at the back of his neck reacted first, the goosebumps came second. "You're my prettiest girl , aren't you?" "Such a slut for me." "Use your words, angel." "You're mine, only I can make you feel like this." Anakin roughly shook his head before he breathed in and knocked on her door.

The thoughts ceased and his shoulders untensed because of it.

Y/n's door opened and there she was, smile as bright as ever as she greeted him. "Good morning, Master. A bit late aren't you?" She questioned, closing the door behind her with a wave of her hand.

He mustered up a smile as well as he answered, "Apologies, I was talking with Master Yoda." He patted himself on the back for not being suspicious as he lied through his teeth.

—————

Training was different today. No doubt it was about what he had walked in on this morning, but he tried his best to act like something wasn't bothering him.

Sparring was especially different, he was acutely aware of whenever he even placed a finger on her. She didn't seem affected at this but he knew. He knew the things she wanted him to say to her, say to her when his hands memorized her body, set her skin ablaze in their wake. It had a carnal desire simmering in his gut as he gazed at her sweaty form pant from the work she was being put through. So when training ended he made his way to the bathroom. Splashing cold water on his face helped the heat on his skin, but not the heat starting to grow in him.

Anakin fell pray to his desires, now instead of her imagining what it would be like to be underneath him, it was him imagining what it would be like to be on top of her. Looking down to see the look in her eyes as he touched her, made her his. The sounds she'd make as he stuffed her full. The mere thought had his pants tighten significantly. Would she cry as he stretched her out? Would she beg him to keep going? Better yet, would she submit herself to him, his mercy?

He manages, somehow, to collect himself before he leaves.

"There you are, Anakin. There is a last minute mission I need you and Y/n to do" Obi-wan told him as he lead him to the holotable. "Do not let him out of your sight, we suspect he's behind Senator Amidala's assassination attempts. He knows what you both look like though, so make sure he doesn't notice you." He explained further, Anakin nodded, going into serious Jedi-Master mode.

"I won't fail you, Master."

—————

After Anakin explained the plan to her she nodded along and followed his lead to his speeder.

"He lives in-" He pauses as he points to the apartment building they both come up to. "That building, there is two doors leading out, one in the back and one in the front. I'll take the one behind it." He parks the speeder where he could get in it quickly, but isn't suspicious. "We're close enough to speak through the force, so if something happens let me know immediately."

"Yes, Master."

He nods at her before speedily walking to the other side of the small apartment building. She pulls up the hood of her robe and tries to look the least inconspicuous as she possibly can.

—————

It's been radio silence for a few hours before the front door opens to the exact alien they're here for. She quickly lets Anakin know.

She watches the alien closely, walking behind him at a distance he wouldn't find strange.

Anakin catches up to her, both the Jedis watch the supposed assassinator from afar enter a bar. "I hate bars." She groans as he drags the Padawan inside the building.

"Uh, Master. Won't our hoods be kind of out of place in here?" Y/n points out, noticing the lack of clothes everyone is wearing.

"Oh, yes. Clever thinking, Y/n." He says, narrowing his eyes in search for the alien.

They both take a seat at one of the tables, eyeing the place until Anakin spots the alien, he's at the bar, downing what seems to be his 3rd shot. He stumbles a bit trying to get off of his chair. Both Jedi watch him go down the hallway that has the bathrooms, but also the back door. So, Anakin flags you over as he gets up. "Uh, Master. Isn't he just going to the bathroom?" She questions getting close enough to the hallway to peer down it. It's empty, aside from the usual couple making out on the walls. It brings a blush to her cheeks. No sign of the alien though.

They both walk further down the hallway until they both feel the door about to be opened, so Anakin does the first thing he can think of. He pushes his Padawan against the closest wall and kisses her. Trying his best to shield both of their identities, he pushes himself further against her and puts his hands on her cheeks trying to hide her face. She gasps in his mouth and her hands can't help but grip his robes.

She's never been this close to him, the feel of his skin on hers, his hands on her, feels like a dream. His intoxicating smell already clouds her mind. But the feeling is over before she knows it, the alien has walked back into the main area again. Anakin doesn't waste a second before following him.

Y/n stands at the wall still, hand coming up to touch her lips. That was her first kiss. Her first kiss was with him.

—————

The outcome of the mission was good, they ended up catching him and Obi-wan was happy.

The next day was training again for Anakin and Y/n. This time it felt so intimate, Anakin's touch would linger far longer than needed and he found any reason to touch her. It had her head spinning by the time they were done.

It apparently didn't stop at training either, Anakin would lead her everywhere with a secure hand on her lower back. He didn't comment on it so she decided not to either, in fear of him retracting the hand.

When he wasn't near, her thoughts were even more out of hand. Now, when she met up with him she was shyer than normal. A part of him regretted the kiss, he enjoyed it but he worried it bothered her. That night he made his way to her room, he wanted to talk about it without anything hearing.

And just like last time he heard her thoughts, here he was again. This time it seemed like she was already in the middle of her fantasizing. Before he could understand what she was thinking about, he knocked on the door.

It opened, the first thing he noticed was her big doe eyes staring up at him curiously.

“Master, what are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?” He asked, clearing his throat.

She nodded and he stepped inside.

The second he was all the way in he could feel the waves of want and desire once more, but this time they were all around him and it was hard to speak. Anakin swallowed, looking into her eyes as he began. “I wanted to apologize for what happened during the mission, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

She shakes her head quickly, “No No, it’s not that it made me uncomfortable. It was..” She pauses as she sits down on the edge of her bed. “It was my first kiss.” She flinches, she was always teased for not having kissed anyone while she was there.

He gulps this time, he can’t deny the feeling of pride that grew in him.

He sat beside her, contemplating his words carefully.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take that away from you.”

She turns to look at him, the only light in the room shining from her small lamp on her nightstand brushed against his face, making his features soft.

“Don’t be sorry, I, um.” She stops herself before continuing, fearful of her words.

Her master eyes her, “You what?” He speaks through the force, gaze narrowing at her sputtering.

“I enjoyed it.”

They both stare at each other, his eyebrows furrow as he watches her face. Y/n watches the inner turmoil that’s present on his as a lock of his hair falls in front of his eyes. A hand comes up to her wrist, it glides upward, over her neck, and up to her cheek. It cradles her face as his resolve snaps. This kiss has purpose, he hopes she can feel it. The way their lips brush against each other is erotic and she can’t possibly hold in the small moan that’s threatening to spill.

The jedi pulls away slightly to eye her, his mouth is parted as he takes in everything she’s silently offering. His breaths fans over her face and it sets her nerves on fire.

The second kiss is full of lust and want, his gloved hand finds her hip before he decides they’re not nearly as close as he would like. The hand on her cheek slides down to her chest and gently pushes her to lay on her back, though, his lips never leave hers. He situates himself on top of her and pulls away farther than before. Gazing at her lidded eyes and soon the pout settling over her lips.

“My prettiest girl.” He sighs out, reaching up to run a nail up and down her neck.

“Master.” She begins.

“Anakin.” He corrects as the nail on her neck drifts down enough to pull her shirt away from her collarbones.

“Anakin..” She obeys, even if it feels foreign on her tongue. “I need you.”

“I know…you should really keep your thoughts to yourself yknow that, Angel?” The name has her eyes widening and a smirk gracing his face.

“How could you think I wouldn’t find out about all the dirty little fantasies you have about me?” He switches hands so his gloved one is pressed next to her shoulder on the bed keeping him upright, while the other one meets her hip again to push the fabric of her shirt upward, Anakin eyes the newly exposed skin and tugs at his lip.

“M’sorry.” She breathes as a fierce blush settles over her face.

“No need to be sorry…” He drags his blunt nails up her torso as he drags her shirt up, goosebumps tickle her flesh as a result. Even more so when he leans down to hover over her, now, exposed breasts. It doesn’t take long for her nipples to harden partly from being out in the open air, but mostly because of him.

The Padawan holds her breath as he nears the mounds of skin, it starts with dizzying kisses up the valley between them and then continues with him teasingly licking around one of her nipples. She gasps, her bottom lip caught under her front teeth harshly.

Anakin takes a full nipple into his mouth and sighs as the sounds he knew would sound so pretty, leave her. Especially the ones where she moans his name in that breathy voice of hers. Her back arches and it sends her breasts even further into his face. He removes his mouth for a moment, only to envelope the other nipple and graze his teeth ever so slightly against it, he takes in her gasps and whines and they all go straight to his ever tightening pants.

He pulls away again, this time to lean up and kiss her. Messily their lips slide together, he even experimentally brushes her lips with his tongue. But she pulls away, “What are you doing?” She asks curiously out of breath.

“Open your mouth for me, kay?” His gaze goes back and forth between her eyes to her lips as he talks.

They kiss again and he does the same thing, so, she opens her mouth. His skilled tongue licks into her unexpectedly and Y/n moves her hands to his clothed chest for stability, well, mental stability at least. Anakin then sucks her tongue rather harshly and it sends moan after moan into his mouth. He swallows all of them gladly as he feels himself become even more worked up.

He would love to keep kissing her, he honestly thinks he could do it forever, but they must keep going. She whines and chases his lips when he pulls away this time and it has his eyes darkening. The shirt she’s half wearing is thrown somewhere on the floor as he dips down to kiss her stomach, down her belly button and along the waistline of her pajama pants as he hooks his fingers along them, dragging them down slowly.

The pink underwear she’s wearing has a frilly bow on the top and he couldn’t handle it. It was like he was opening up his present on christmas, his little, angelic, present that wants nothing more than to have him degrade her. How could he possibly deny that?

“Such cute panties for someone who’s such a little slut for me. Tell me, Angel, would you let me fuck you anytime I asked? Would you let me fuck you in my speeder? On the holotable in front of everyone?” He skims his lips against the hem of her underwear once more as he eyes her like a predator.

“Yes, yes, would let you touch me wherever you wanted.” She panted out, gripping the sheets beneath her.

“You’re all mine, aren’t you?” He asks, pricking the waistband with his teeth and dragging the offending material down her legs. She couldn’t speak, the sight and the feeling left her speechless and unbelievably wet. As soon as the last of her clothing was gone the smell of her sex was utterly intoxicating, so he did the first thing he thought of. Prying her legs apart and pressing his face against her cunt. Y/n didn’t have time to worry about her being the only naked one, for that she was thankful.

Anakin truly believed he could die happily right now.

“Maker, you smell amazing. Bet you taste even better.” He practically moans into her, the vibrations send jolts of electricity up her spine and it causes her legs to almost close. But the iron grip he has on her didn’t allow for that. Even when he licked up the expanse of her heat and suckled on her clit, her thighs were begging to give out by then. The new feeling of his tongue was addicting, the way he licked into her clenching hole had her head spinning and heart pounding.

“You feeling good, Angel?” He pants against her, opening his eyes to gaze at her already fucked out form. A moan leaves her as she nods. His ungloved hand lets go of her thigh in favor of circling her cunt and pressing his fingers against her hole. She chokes out a moan at the action.

His mouth only leaves her clit to speak as he fills her up, one finger at a time.

“So tight.”

It has her clenching and he hopes he’s able to feel that around his cock. The fire consumes her from the inside out and all she can do is take it.

Y/n’s moans become louder and more frequent, that paired with the clenching she’s doing around his fingers, he assumes she’s going to come. So before she can, he sticks in another finger and scissors them inside of her, coaxing out an orgasm the best he can.

“Come for me, Y/n.”

Her limbs tense up as her eyes clamp shut, said fire is spreading through her, every finger, every fiber. The euphoric feeling is prolonged as much as possible because of his fingers and the mouth still sucking her pulsating clit.

When she comes back down he stands up, gripping his shirt and pulling it from his body. In her frazzled state, she eyes his stomach, his abs more specifically. His chest too, the way it heavily falls up and down from his deep breathing is hypnotic. His belt is pulled off, and soon he’s unbuttoning his pants, pulling them down and off. She can easily see the outline of him through his briefs and the fire that was just released in her seems to have come back.

Anakin watches her face closely as he slips down his briefs and kicks them off. Her gaze on his cock doesn’t last long he notices, her eyes fall to his hand that’s currently gliding up her calf. He can’t help but chuckle.

“You really like my hands, don’t you? Even the metal one?” He smiles at the end.

She nods shyly.

So he takes a detour, his hand comes up to her face, traces her jaw, then traces her bottom lip with his thumb. Her breathing changed almost immediately at that. He wonders something for a moment, so he trails his hand downward, ghosting over the base of her throat. She bites her lip again as he loosely grips her neck.

“So pretty with my hand around your neck. Are you ready for me, Angel?” He mumbles. She finds it hard to speak, the intense eye contact is quite distracting and intimidating.

But she finally gets out a “Yes, Anakin.” After he swats her thigh with his metal hand.

The hand around her neck doesn’t budge as he settles in between her thighs and wraps a leg around his waist. He watches his tip tap her clit and tease her until she’s whining. He can’t hold up the act for long though, he feels like he might explode if he doesn’t push inside of her soon. The initial stretch doesn’t feel good, even if Anakin is pushing in rather slow, it still has her flinching.

“It’ll feel good, Angel, don’t worry. Just wait.” He tells her, concerned. She nods in return, holding onto his waist loosely. He keeps his slow pace until he fully bottoms out, he’s sure he could come right now. Her walls latch onto him like a vice and she’s so, so, wet for him. “Fuck, Angel. So wet and tight for me.” He praises breathily.

She clenches at that and it has his brain short circuit. All he wants to do is move, move until he comes inside her, but he waits until she’s ready.

“You can m-move.”

The first experimental thrust is intoxicating for the both of them. He was right, it does feel good. Just him inside her feels good. Every vein and ridge is felt and she makes note of each and every one of them. Another thing she notes is how deep he is, she swears she can feel him in her stomach at this point.

It doesn’t take him long to set a good starting pace, one that isn’t too rough but still satisfying.

“Anakin, you feel so good.” She moans, hips absentmindedly raising to meet his thrusts. The hand around her throat becomes tighter as he groans out.

“Flip over.” He says all of a sudden, pulling out. Her reaction time isn’t very good right now so she furrows her eyebrows. Far too slow for Anakin, so he takes it upon himself to manhandle her onto her stomach. She lays flat against the bed as he forces open her legs again. This time when he pushes in, the stretch is delicious. It has her pushing her ass against him, “Already such a slut for me.” He mumbles as he hovers over her back.

One particular harsh thrust has a loud, pornographic, moan leaving her kiss-swollen lips. He narrows his eyes as his flesh hand presses into her spine, moving upward until it reaches the back of her neck. It swivels to the front, lingers over her windpipe, and drags up to her mouth, pressing firmly against her lips. So firm that her head is lifted into his shoulder as he begins to jackhammer his hips into her.

Leaning down to her ear, he begins, “Such a perfect cunt for me, Angel. Gonna fuck you any time I get the chance.” He groans, grinding into her before thrusting again. The moans leaving her vibrate his hand and he can’t help but thrust faster.

Her brain feels like goo and she hopes he doesn’t ask her anything right now. But, of course.

“Do you like my cock, Angel?” He asks as he moves his hand for her to answer. She only whines and nods, hoping that’ll suffice. But it doesn’t. He smirks as he leans in again, “Use you words.” His tone has goosebumps prickling her neck as she tries to muster up something to say.

“Mm, I- I love it, mm, Ani.” The nickname gets him where it hurts, he can feel how close he is. So, he abandons her mouth and moves his hand in between her body and the bed, circling her throbbing clit.

His metal hand grips the back of her head and pushes it into her sheets, keeping her quiet as he continues abusing her leaking cunt with his cock and fingers. Just as he begins to feel his orgasm coming even closer she babbles and moans, “Ani, I’m, oh my god.” As she clenches around him sporadically. “Good girl, come around me.” She does just that and it pushes him to the edge immediately, his hips stutter and his groans fill the room, he pushes to the hilt as he comes inside of her. Filling her up until it’s leaking out.

They both pant as he pulls out and she turns around. Anakin places a kiss on her lips, once, twice, three times before speaking, “You did so good for me, Y/n. So proud of you.”

“Thank you, Master.” She lazily smiles.

#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin smut #anakin x reader #star wars smut #star wars x reader #darth vader smut #darth vader x reader

2K notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 4 months

Text

Betrayal - Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Summary: months into the war and it's not as exhilarating as you'd hoped - not for your battalion, anyway. when the air conditioning in your compound blows, an old friend brings his tech genius of a padawan to fix it for you. while anakin is working, you convince his master to spar for old times' sake, and simple adrenaline gives way to a landslide of long-buried feelings neither of you should have for each other.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni, fem!reader, jedi!reader, reader is a general, sweat kink (? they are really sweaty and i talk about it a lot), oral (m+f receiving), semi-public sex (risk of being caught), sparring, lightsaber use, throatfucking, messy kisses, scratching/marking, lotsa spit, obligatory 'had you said the word' (sorry satine i had to steal his line)

WC: 16.9K / navigation / inbox

A/N: sorry this took me so long to finish! i didn't have time to write for like two months but it's done now and i hope you enjoy it <3 this is set a couple months/a year into the clone wars, but i have chosen to fuck with their ages a little bit. in this, anakin is like 12-14-ish, even though he was older in AOTC when the war began.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Neglecting the option of taking a padawan under your wing is what stuck you on this humid, blazing, hellish planet, and you almost regret it. You’d wanted more freedom in your duties, didn’t want a youngling clinging to your leg begging for help with their rudimentary saber drills, so instead you swapped it for what you thought would be constant battle, exhilarating speeder chases, and the glory of proving yourself. Unbecoming of a Jedi to wish for, yes, but you’ve never claimed to be Council-worthy.

Now your butt is sticking to the chair you’re planted in, overlooking a very empty, very desolate, very boring outpost. It’s so hot that you think you’ve melted into the chair and fused with its fabric. Standing might tear your skin away from your flesh, leaving an imprint of you behind in your seat.

“General,” One of your clone troopers calls, sticking his head through the doorway to your station, “Nothing on my scanners.”

“Nor on mine,” You drawl lazily, “We’re scheduled to be inspected today. Any word from the crew?”

“None.” He laments, “I just hope they bring a droid that can fix the cooler.”

The base you’re stationed to isn’t always this disgusting. The structure is wired with an air conditioning system to keep the inside much cooler than the outside, but after a rather unfortunate incident with a freshly manufactured astromech droid with some crossed wirings, both lay broken and singed in the maintenance bay. Your clones don’t know how to tinker with droids or heating systems, and you’d probably wind up just as ash-covered if you tried.

“Alert me when they land,” You order the trooper, leaning your forehead against the cool metal of the scanner screen before you, “I want to have time to change into an outfit I haven’t soaked through with sweat.”

The scanner grows warm against your flushed skin far too soon. Everything is hot, and sticky, and gross, and you find yourself yearning for the cold showers you used to despise at the temple. Perhaps you yearn for the temple in general, for the familial atmosphere shared among overconfident Padawans and exasperated Masters. You think specifically of Obi-Wan Kenobi, a man you’d trained with, now Master to his apprentice Skywalker.

You haven’t seen the pair in years, but you remember Anakin’s blonde mop of hair, as well as his penchant for chaos. Watching Obi-Wan’s eyes fill with horror at whatever shenanigans his Padawan had gotten into that day was part of what helped you make the decision to decline one yourself, though you hold no distaste for the boy. He was simply young and untrained in the ways of the Jedi, and you were not a patient enough person to gracefully navigate that predicament then. You’re not sure you are now, either.

Even though you know you’re better suited on your own, you wonder if you’d have been more fulfilled with a Padawan learner of your own. Surely anything could be better than this, wasting away- rotting on a planet hot enough to boil your blood if you stepped outside without proper protection.

Your base is secluded and temperature-controlled, even if the contraption that the Republic had fashioned under pressure of time to keep you isolated is rather crude. It’s, in essence, a large dome, seals in place to ensure that vessels can land and takeoff without destroying the temperature control. It’s cooler within the dome than it is outside of it, but the hurriedly-designed system can only do too much, and you greatly depend on the air conditioning to do its job. Now that it’s not, you’re irritated from the heat, and you wish that the inspection team would just hurry up already. The patience you’d had drilled into you from your early years as a Youngling is nowhere to be found under the pressure of a heat wave, and your foot taps impatiently against the floor while you itch for some action.

You think it’s rather pathetic that you yearn for excitement so badly that you’re anxiously awaiting the inspection team. Their job takes barely an hour, a scan of your equipment and a survey of your troops. They’ll walk in and out without so much as a pleasantry, but you long for something new, something more, something exciting.

The call over your comms comes over an hour later, a time in which you remain at your post but begrudge it all the while. “General,” Your trooper barks, voice staticky and rough over the channel, “We’ve got visitors. Inspection team’s here. Initiating landing procedure.”

“Copy that,” You bolt out of your seat, barely remembering to lean over the microphone to reply, “Thank you.”

Finally.

Finally, someone new to talk to, even if they have the same face as everyone else you’ve spoken to on this long, dreary assignment. You’re friendly with your troopers, of course, but that itch for more is back in your brain, igniting you with vigor you don’t normally possess as you rush to greet the inspection team.

However, when you reach the landing bay, and the ship’s hydraulics hiss, clone troopers aren’t the only ones to disembark. Jedi robes make their appearance, shrouding the very man you’d just thought about, as well as the child by his side.

Obi-Wan wears the years that have passed since you last saw him, but time has treated him well. His hair is longer now, gone is that stiff Padawan buzz. His braid is missing as well, giving way to luscious strawberry blonde strands that he’s slicked back so that they drag against the back and sides of his neck. Longer hair looks good on him, just as it had when he was fifteen and had refused a haircut for months in a typical, if rather tame, display of teenage rebellion. Anakin is also significantly older than you’d kept track of, but he can’t be older than fourteen if his lanky limbs and awkward demeanor are any evidence.

Obi-Wan smiles at you, and you nearly forget to shove down that shameful part of you that wants to take more out of him than he can give you. Even as Padawans you’d always gravitated towards the man opposite you, sneaking out to roam the gardens after hours together or sharing sly glances across mission briefings. But he’s an honorable Jedi Master - a member of the Council itself, so you’ve heard - and you wrestle down your repressed feelings to grin at him.

“General Y/L/N,” He greets with a smile so charming you lament that the Jedi Order interrupted his chances of being a model.

“Master Kenobi,” You greet, but you know he’ll chide you for the honorific if you use it more than once, “I wasn’t aware you’d be on the inspection team.”

“We’re not. Technically.” Obi-Wan admits, arm coming to press against Anakin’s back and nudge him forwards, “We got word that your air conditioning system is out, as well as one of your new astromechs. Anakin here is still an excellent mechanic, I thought we’d come out to offer you some reprieve from the heat.”

Anakin looks embarrassed by the attention that’s fallen upon him, in typical pubescent fashion, and you take pity on the timid teenager, casting your glance back at his Master, “Maker, thank you. We’re melting out here.”

“I can imagine,” Obi-Wan laughs, and you turn again to Anakin who’s anxiously awaiting your orders.

“Anakin, if you could fix our air conditioning, that would be wonderful. Honestly, I’m not even sure I want the droid fixed, it’s what got us into this mess in the first place. But they’re both over there,” You point to the shorted out panels, “And my troopers will offer you any supplies you need, like tools or wiring or refreshments.”

“Thank you.” Anakin nods, hands clasped behind his back obediently even if he looks mortified to be the center of attention once more, “I’ll have things up and running as soon as possible.”

“I’m leaving you here,” Obi-Wan warns the boy, pointing an accusatory finger at him, “I don’t often leave you alone with machinery and tools, Anakin, for reasons we’re both aware of. Promise me you will not do anything reckless?”

“I promise,” Anakin mutters reluctantly, and you avert your eyes so he has some semblance of privacy.

“I mean it, Anakin. This is no time to experiment with your technical prowess. You simply fix their system and you wait for me back on the ship, understand?”

“Master,” Anakin pleads, “I understand.”

“Very well. Get to your duties,” Obi-Wan dismisses the boy, turning to you only after he sees his Padawan crouch by the singed panel.

“He shouldn’t take long. He most likely will try to tinker with the astromech, though.” Obi-Wan smiles sympathetically, “He’s not one to leave a droid unusable.”

“I remember he had a particular talent for mechanics,” You muse, starting off towards the main base intent on leading Obi-Wan to your rec room, “If I recall correctly, he figured out how to inconspicuously rewire his communicator to give you an ‘unavailable’ signal if he didn’t like what you were asking him to do.”

Obi-Wan scoffs as he lets you lead through the doorway, “Yes, my Padawan has always had very selective hearing. I’m sure you don’t mind not having one of your own.”

“That’s one of the reasons I justify my choice,” You chuckle, letting the door shut behind you as you make your way through the halls. The base that the Republic had granted you is spacious, even decked out with training facilities and rec rooms interspersed throughout your rows of quarters, but it’s unbearably hot and you’re tired of being cooped up inside of it.

“This isn’t bad for a base,” Obi-Wan muses, robes swishing behind him as he strides beside you, “But I hope Anakin fixes that cooling system soon.”

“Try being stationed here permanently,” You scoff, tugging at the sweat-soaked neckline of your tunic, “I have long since abandoned my robes.”

“Do you have somewhere I could set this?” Obi-Wan asks, fingers catching the front of his cloak as he slings it off. It falls gracefully from his shoulders, and he holds the garment up as he laments still having to wear the rest of his robes.

“You can leave it in my quarters,” You veer sharply to the right, letting him catch up, “They’re just down this hallway.”

There’s unmarked doors on either side of the corridor, and you’re still impressed that each clone trooper knows where their bed is at night. Your door has a plaque beside its frame that reads ‘General’s Quarters,’ and you’re not confident that you could navigate the halls without it. You type in your access code, and the door slides open with a hiss.

“Just set it on the bed,” You gesture towards your mattress, “If we have some time, I thought,” You reach into the closet, pulling out your seldom-used lightsaber, “We could spar.”

Obi-Wan laughs, discarding his cloak onto your bed as his eyes crinkle happily at the corners, “You’re lacking a bit of excitement here, aren’t you, Y/N? There’s no way you’d duel me willingly after I took you down the last time.”

You’d sparred together since you’d been handed a saber for the first time. Sure, your initial weapons were wooden, then training blades designed to be duller than their more advanced counterparts, before you’d finally been granted allowance to manufacture one of your own. But there were no more dedicated sparring partners than the two of you, and you can tell the man opposite you is fond of the reminder you’ve given him, even if he is trying to tease you.

“You did not take me down,” You gawp, “I mean- yes, I was on the floor, but I wasn’t done! You didn’t win!”

“Mm, yes. I didn’t win because no one did.” Obi-Wan sends you a sly grin, “Anakin interrupted us, don’t you remember? We never got to finish.”

“Then a rematch,” You insist, gesturing towards the open doorway, “Once and for all we’ll prove who the better duelist is.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll win. After all, I can tell you spend every waking moment practicing and making sure you lose none of your fighting abilities,” Obi-Wan’s hand darts out to switch on your holotable, revealing an in-progress game of chess. You’re losing.

“I’ve only been using that as of late,” You snap, defensive, “It’s insufferable to train without proper ventilation. And only when I’m not on duty. I don’t spend all of my time sitting and playing chess.”

“Losing at chess.” Obi-Wan arches an eyebrow, finally stepping out of your quarters so that you can shut it once more, “Come, Y/N, show me to your training grounds.”

The training room is just as hot as everywhere else on the base. You walk through the doors and humid air greets you, something that wrinkles Obi-Wan’s nose and rustles his mustache.

“God, I hope your Padawan knows what he’s doing,” You groan, rolling up the sleeves of your own tunic but jumping excitedly into action despite the heat. You ignite your saber, slightly embarrassed by the thrill that the weapon gives you as it thrums to life. You haven’t felt this in a long time, at least, not paired with the thrill of battle. It’s significantly less awe-inspiring to ignite a saber against a training droid you know wouldn’t be able to singe your tunics if you stood stock still. Obi-Wan brings his to life as well; blue and green lights bathe your faces.

“I’ll go easy on you.” He smiles infuriatingly, cocking his head slightly to one side, “Ready?”

“Ready.” You jolt right, a fakeout before you dart left instead. He catches on rather quickly, though, and his blade clashes against yours as you aim for his leg.

“Nice start,” Obi-Wan admits, “But you can’t rely on misdirection for your entire fight. You’ll have to overpower me.”

“I could easily overpower you,” You swing left, breaking the contact of your two sabers, then jabbing so that he has to move his foot out of the way to avoid the plasma. He stumbles, barely catching himself against his back foot, but it gives you time enough to bring your blade up and around to nick at his shoulder, a hole now slashed into his tunic.

“Okay,” He stands straight, eyeing the tear in his clothing warily, “I won’t go easy on you.”

“Never underestimate your opponent,” You tease proudly, saber still ignited, “That’s one for me, Obi-Wan.”

“That doesn’t count,” He scoffs, standing at the ready, “I told you I’d go easy on you. Now I’m serious.”

“All I’m hearing is excuses,” You gloat, feet light as you step around him, “You lead this time, Kenobi.”

He does. He swings downwards, and you block your face with your own blade to stop him. He nearly jabs at your gut before you can prevent it, and you feel the heat from his blade as your own comes to block his.

You fling his weapon away with yours, and he lets you. After such a long period of no action (and shamefully little meditation) your abilities with the Force have grown slightly weaker, as have your regulatory skills. You can still sense what he’s going to do when he squares his shoulders, but you’re almost not fast enough to interpret those senses, and you barely make it to block him from swinging his blade in a fiery circle that would clip the edge of your arm.

“You’re rusty,” He taunts, his own Force abilities stronger than ever as his presence seeps through the cracks in your mind. You try to force him out, but it takes effort, and it’s effort you can’t expend elsewhere. It means that you can’t foresee his intent to aim for your face, and his blade hums inches away from your cheek as he holds it there.

You freeze; you’re caught.

We’re even,” You grunt, sweat beading at your forehead, “But we’re not finished.”

“Hang on,” He disengages his saber, letting the apparatus clatter to the ground as he tugs at one of the outer layers of his robes, “I’m going to shed a few things.”

“Stripping will not help your cause.” You tease, “I’m not distracted by sex appeal.”

Clearly, he isn’t expecting your jab, and he lets his mouth fall open as he slings off one of his garments, an incredulous laugh filling his throat.

“Y/N. You’ve obtained a foul mouth somewhere along your career. It certainly wasn’t in the temple.”

“It’s the clones,” You groan, “Try being stationed with a troop of grown men who went through puberty in record time. They’ve got the appetite of an adult with the filter of a teenage boy.”

“They’ve never tried anything with you,” Obi-Wan narrows his eyes questioningly, and you try to avoid looking at the sweat glistening against his tanned neck as he strips to his base layer.

“No, they’re respectful.” You assure him, “Just crass.”

“Yes, well,” Obi-Wan frowns distastefully, “They haven’t had Jedi training. I suppose I’m not surprised.”

He stands there for a moment with only his undershirt covering his chest, then decides that it’s still too warm, tugging at its hem to raise it over his head.

You feel your insides ignite with a fire you haven’t felt in a long time when his bare chest is exposed, skin marred and riddled with coarse, wiry hair. His stomach is flat but not as tight as you remember in your youth, softer now. You can tell there’s an impressive layer of muscle beneath the milky white skin, though, even if it’s not outwardly visible. He uses his tunic to wipe the sweat off of his face so you’re granted a moment to ogle him, your mouth watering as you try to conceal your thoughts.

“Okay. Enough with this child’s play.” You shake your head, letting Obi-Wan have just enough time to toss aside his tunic before you plant your feet against the mat. Obi-Wan stands at the ready, both of your sabers ignited, “I want a real match. A long one, now that we’re warmed up. Best two out of three, Kenobi. Winner takes all.”

“Winner gets to stand in front of the air conditioning vent when Anakin gets it up and running,” Obi-Wan suggests, sweat trailing down his neck and over his chest. You avert your eyes, lest the fraile state of mind you’re in betrays you.

“Fine.” You shrug, reaching for the hem of your vest. It’s tactical, good for keeping with you on duty, but it’s etching lines of sweat into your back now. You sling it off, letting it land in a heap similar to Obi-Wan’s robes, and exposing the tank top you have on beneath it. “I know just the one I’ll pick. In my room, there’s one just above the bed. Maybe I’ll let it hit my back while I win at holochess.”

“I think the heat might be getting to you,” Obi-Wan cracks, a slight heave to his chest as he tries regulating his breathing. It’s hard when you’re as hot as you are to get enough oxygen, and you’re doing the same. It’s awfully difficult not to indulge in the view of his bare chest rapidly rising and falling, and you feel a tug below your gut as a vision flashes through your mind. It’s of what else could make him pant in such a way, and you can’t afford to entertain the thought, not around him. “I’m not sure which outcome is more delusional; that you’ll win this duel, or that you’ll win at holochess.”

“You’re wasting time,” You croon, charging with your blade poised for battle so that you have no more time to fantasize, “I think you’re scared.”

“Do I feel afraid?” Obi-Wan laughs, blocking your attack with little effort and redoubling to launch one of his own. The clatter of your sabers almost drowns out his words, “Reach out, Y/L/N, all you’ll feel is confidence.”

“I’m not sure I could feel you if I tried,” You lament, chest heaving as you block one of his swings, “Not while my mind is occupied with our duel. I am rusty, you were right.”

“Practice more,” He chides, “Less chess, more meditation.”

“One is a lot more boring than the other!” You groan, barely managing to get your arm up in time to take a shot at his own, “And the less boring one is chess, so that’s really saying something.”

“It may be boring but it is beneficial,” Obi-Wan lectures you, and you wonder if he thinks you’re still a Padawan. You fight with heaving breaths and monumental effort, the heat sucking your energy out through the sweat that drips down your skin. He turns and his back is glistening, which is really not a sight that helps you to stay focused.

“Now I’m starting to see why Anakin tinkered with his communicator,” You call, as Obi-Wan whirls around your left side, “You’re very dull as a Jedi Master!”

You have to throw yourself onto the floor to avoid a swing at your head, your right shoulder aching as you do so. But you scramble away from him, righting yourself and miraculously avoiding the blade of your saber coming into contact with the training mat.

You stumble to your knees, driving the forward momentum you have against Obi-Wan as he tries blocking you. You nearly get a nick out of his pants, but he pushes you backwards with the threat of his blade, and you fall with your back to the mat.

Your stomach drops when a blue blade hums hot and bright near your throat, its tip directed at your jugular. It doesn’t matter that it’s on its training setting; it’s inescapable and daunting when it’s an inch from your skin. You’re done for.

“I may be dull,” Obi-Wan pants, beard glistening as sweat streams down his neck. His chest heaves as he speaks, bare and open for your eyes, and his pink tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth to dart along his lips, “But I am victorious. Does this remind you a little bit of the last time we fought?”

It does. He’d been standing over you then as he is now, and you’d had to fortify your mind back then not to let slip vulgar thoughts about being on the floor below him. His thighs, meaty with muscle and strong from training, are hidden behind loose pants, but their crotch has tightened slightly, a chub to what should be a relaxed surface.

A pang of arousal shoots down your spine, and suddenly the lightsaber near your throat isn’t the most daunting thing in the room. It’s Obi-Wan.

He swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing as you lay beneath him.

“Your thoughts betray you,” He observes, and you feel his invasive presence in your mind, sucking out the private thoughts coursing through your brain. They’re of panting breaths, heaving chests, wandering hands, and meshing tongues; passionate embraces, intimate attachments. Things no Jedi should fantasize about, not under the code. Things that should bring shame to you, and maybe they do, and maybe you like it.

“Your body betrays you,” You’re able to muster, swallowing the saliva pooling in your mouth as you glance pointedly at his bulge. It’s only grown since you’d last glanced at it; evidently your visions did something to him too.

He sees, or perhaps, feels what you see, freezes, then clicks his saber off. The blade retracts with a hiss and there is a distinct vacuum of sound where its humming once was. He breaks the unnerving silence with a clatter as he tosses it aside, feet still firmly planted on either side of your hips.

“It’s natural.” He weakly supplies, a poor defense, “It’s adrenaline-fueled, nothing more.”

“Really? So when you duel sith lords, when you chop the heads off of battle droids, you walk away with a stiff dick?” You carefully observe his body language, feet poised like he might bolt if you make any sudden moves. He’s flighty, and you have to make your next moves carefully.”

“Y/N,” He begins, his voice weak, “I wish you wouldn’t use such foul language.”

“Is it the language that bothers you?” You push your elbows against the mat, hoisting yourself up at an obtuse angle to meet his eye better, “Or is it the truth it carries? Obi-Wan, you were right. It’s natural. And it is not something to be ashamed of.”

“It is against the Code,” He reasons, his voice still fighting to sound resolute. He offers no other reasoning, and you know it’s because he has none.

“It’s not.” You insist, “The Code is ancient and rigid. And celibacy is not required, only a level head.”

“That’s the problem,” He chuckles weakly, “I don’t have a level head when it comes to you, Y/N.”

“You seem as though you do.” You press cautiously, careful not to push your luck, “I’ve never felt anything unprofessional about your feelings towards me.”

“That’s because I haven’t been around you in a long time,” He admits, “Not consistently. I was better at controlling it- no, hiding it when we were Padawans. I had to do it every day, it was natural to me. But I am out of practice now, and I have been since you were stationed here. I barely have the ability to hide how I feel about you, Y/N. And- and it is not something the Council would approve of.”

You sit up now, fully straightened. You’re still between his legs, but you’d need to rise to your knees for your face to be level with his bulge. You plan to.

“The Council is not here. Nor can they see us, or hear us, or feel us. They will not know what we do, Obi-Wan.”

“I will know.” He breathes, his voice growing weaker each time he tries raising it against you, “Y/N, I will never forget a thing we do together on this base. If we… If you touch me, I will remember every brush of your skin against mine for eternity. If you- kiss me, I will never be able to put the thought of your lips on mine out of my head. And I would not know how to live without it for the rest of my life.”

Your heart sinks in your stomach like a stone in water. He’s loyal to the Order, he always has been. But you’d been so blinded by isolation, so convinced by your own delusions, that you’d assumed his loyalty to you would be stronger. But it’s not, and you can’t earnestly be angry with him for it.

You swallow what little saliva has accumulated around your tongue to give yourself something to do, then rise to your feet.

“It sounds like you should walk away.” You mutter regretfully. His eyes hold the same feelings, strikingly painful. He nods, almost imperceptibly, but before he can follow your orders, you continue.

“But will you forgive yourself if you do?”

You feel it, his swell of emotions. Every single one is unbridled, yearning, heartache, fondness, want; all of them unleashed from the man whose mind is usually a fortress. They’re washing over you like waves, invading your brain and turning your thoughts their colors.

“No. I couldn’t,” He admits, “But-” and there’s always a but, “The Council would never forgive me if I didn’t.”

“They won’t know.” You insist, but it’s lost on him, “Obi-Wan, please make a decision. Who is more important, you or the Council?” Then in a more timid, soft voice, as his soft eyes bore into you and beg for mercy, you give him the opposite, “Who is more important… me or the Council?”

He kisses you. There is no warning, no shift in his Force signature, only his hands on your face and his lips on your own. There is strength in his touch, his hands firm where they pull your cheeks ever-so-slightly towards his face as if he’s trying to mash them into his own. His beard is rough and grating against your face, but it’s not unpleasant, especially when it brings with it his lips. His lips, which are much softer than you’d have imagined them, merely frame your own. The kiss is sweet but chaste, and the only indication you have that he wants more is the way that he holds you against him. Otherwise you’d mistake his courtesy for disinterest, and you tilt your head slightly sideways to encourage more enthusiasm from him.

When your lips reconnect he sighs, a breath from his nose that fans over your top lip. He’s letting you lead, letting you dictate whether you want to keep kissing him or whether you’ll suddenly switch positions; it’s like he’s afraid that you’ll rip off a mask and reveal yourself to be Master Windu, scolding him for his reckless passion. But of course you don’t, and you lick gently against the plush of his bottom lip instead.

He hums at the feeling of your tongue against his mouth, but he’s suddenly pushing against your cheeks instead of pulling.

“Are you absolutely sure,” He starts, but can’t seem to resist the temptation to steal another kiss from your spit-slicked lips, “That you- mm, that you want this? Because I cannot-” He breaks off with a weary, pleading, defeated look in his beautiful eyes, “I cannot turn back if we go further. If we proceed… I will not be able to forget what we do. If you’re not interested… please tell me now, so that I may save myself from loving you for an eternity that you do not wish to share with me.”

You scoff, moving in for another kiss at his lips. He doesn’t reciprocate, only pushing you back so that you can respond.

“I just spent five minutes,” You pant, desperate to reconnect your lips, “Bargaining with you to get you to forget about your nerves. And you don’t think I want this?”

You try surging forwards again but he holds you back, eyes still begging for your words.

“Please. I need to hear you say it.” He seems almost self-conscious, worried you’re not interested in him the same way he’s interested in you. But you have been since you can remember, and you’re more than willing to work around the unconventional aspects of your relationship if it means you can have him, even just for today.

“I want you,” You breathe, the exhale hitting his lips, “Please- Obi-Wan, I want you. I want you no matter what the Code says. No matter what the Council says; I want you.”

He looks like he could cry. He is devoted to the Order, far more than you have seen most Jedi, and to hear you choose him over the Code must mean a great deal. He pours passion into the kiss you share, chest filling with oxygen that he gulps just to be able to keep his mouth on yours for longer. He consumes you, fingers pulling at your cheeks and tugging you closer still, like he thinks you might fuse if he tries hard enough.

He groans into your mouth, his tongue more exploratory now that you’ve pledged your devotion to him. He’s not afraid of taking now, of getting his hopes up only to be thrown down, and he swipes the wet muscle in a hot stripe over your own tongue. He rolls it against your lower lip, so wonderful to kiss for someone with such lacking experience.

“No one is coming,” You breathe, exhaling against his mouth as your hands wander to his waistband, “No one- no one can see us.”

“I want you in your quarters.” He protests, grabbing your wrists when your hand sinks to his bulge and ghosts over it. He jolts at the unexpected contact, but holds you back, “I want to lay you down, Y/N, I want to indulge in every part of you. Worship you.”

“I will let you,” You moan, tilting your forehead against his and mouthing at his lips in a sloppy kiss, “You may have me any way you want, Obi-Wan. But here, I- I want to have you. I need to have you now,”

“Impatient,” He notes, sounding suspiciously close to lecturing you. But he lets your wrists go, and you sink to your knees instantly. He hears them hit the training mat, knows they must ache, but he can’t find any part of him available to worry about it, not now that your hands are prying greedily at the waistband of his trousers.

He’s a near stranger to physical pleasure, at least in recent years. He’s a grown man, he has urges, but he also has responsibilities, and the constant pressure of an ambitious (read: reckless) young Padawan under his supervision mixed with a quickly-rising rank within the Jedi Order leave him with little time nor interest to indulge in his barest desires. Your hand gently squeezing his clothed bulge as you wrestle with his pants nearly knocks him off of his feet, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle having your warm mouth envelop it.

Finally you tug loose the drawstring within his pants, and yank them down his thighs. They’re seldom bare, you see from the milky white tone of the skin there, but they are muscled and thick like he does not neglect them.

You can’t help yourself when you lean forwards, tongue already protruding from your mouth to lick a fat, wet stripe around one of his thighs. It’s sturdy beneath your tongue that dips into the crease between his skin and the parts of it that are covered by his briefs. His muscles tense like you’ve struck him with a fatal blow, and an open-mouthed groan escapes his lips.

His skin tastes of the sweat that’s currently moistening every inch of your bodies, salty and tantalizing. There’s no escaping it in the brutal heat, but it makes him all the more sexy, his skin glistening before you even get a chance to smear it in your saliva.

You’re guilty of impatience as he accuses, and you can’t resist mouthing at his covered bulge. He’s half-hard, but when your lips purse around the outline of his cock in his briefs he twitches, and you feel him stiffen against the restraints of his underwear on your tongue.

His knees give out with no warning, and he barely has the foresight to grab desperately at a bench press behind him for stability. He falls quickly to its surface, perching on the edge of it while you desperately chase his cock. You fit your mouth again over his briefs and drool against the fabric, surely soaking it through with your saliva. His cock, though restrained, is heavy and thick on your tongue, making your mouth water and produce enough drool to soak through his entire ensemble. His hands clutch the bench beneath him with white knuckles, and he grits his teeth to stop himself from shouting as you suck at his clothed cock.

“Oh, Y/N,” He pants, voice strained as you get lost in your task and forget that you need to actually pull his briefs down. He reaches for your head, gently nudging you away with his knuckles against your temple.

“Darling, please, I can’t- I won’t last for very long. Please, have me properly.”

He grips at the waistband of his underwear, tugging them down hurriedly and letting his cock spring free. It’s of decent length, but slightly thicker than average, its base shrouded by a patch of curled hair at his groin. It’s a similar caramel color to the rest of his hair, and his sweat has accumulated particularly within its wiry constraints, leaving him musky. The smell might bother you if it were anyone else, if you were anywhere else, but here and now, on your knees for Obi-Wan in the training room, it’s the most disgustingly tantalizing thing you’ve ever smelled in your entire life.

That’s why you bury your face into it, the hair tickling at your skin. His hips jolt as you inhale deeply near the base of his cock, groaning and letting your tongue fall to drag against just the shaft of his erect dick. He’s painfully hard, embarrassingly seconds to orgasm, and your spit now glistening on his length doesn’t help. Or it helps too much; either way, he’s close to cumming and you haven’t even had a chance to put him in your mouth.

“Darling,” He begs, pushing at your forehead once more, speaking through an eternal shortage of breath, “Please, I- it all feels too good. I can’t take it. I won’t last long.”

“That’s okay,” You pant, your breath falling over his cock as it practically pulses with pleasure, “We’re here for a good time, not a long time.”

“Terrible,” He manages to chuckle weakly, but any further chiding he has planned for your cheekiness is cut short when he stops breathing. He actually forgets how when your wet mouth closes around the head of his cock, your tongue licking flat over its head and covering most of its surface area. It’s so much sensation so fast that Obi-Wan has to clench his hands around the bench not to cum right then and there, and he feels pinpricks of pain over his skin that he realizes are from his fingernails digging against his palms. When you draw your head back off of his cock with a slick sound, then move in again to take more of his length into your mouth, his lungs suddenly remember their function, and heave within his chest.

His groans are filthy and they only pool more slick wetness between your thighs as you kneel for him. You don’t care about the ache in your knees, nor the pain in your neck from the slightly awkward angle you’re indulging in him at. All that matters is his cock, heavy and thick on your tongue, sweat and precum alike flooding your taste buds.

His restraint is put to the test. He’s a member of the Jedi Council, for Force’s sake, and he should have a little more control over himself than this. But it takes almost all of his energy not to buck his hips forwards and plunge the length of his cock down your throat, and it means that he’s not able to devote as much restraint to delaying his orgasm as he’d like.

He’s twitching in your mouth, and even with your faded Force abilities, mental muscles weakened by disuse, you can feel the tension coursing through his veins, hot and wild. You don’t need to look at his strained, white-knuckled grip on the edge of the bench to know that he’s devoting all of his energy to restraining himself, and you take pride in being able to undo Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi with merely your mouth. You indulge in his painful hardness, tongue smoothly caressing the underside of his length as you bob your head back and forth around him. Each time you draw back you flick your tongue up and over the ruddy, leaking head of his cock, something that makes that fiery tension in his body glow even hotter.

“I’m going to-” He warns you, voice petering out weakly as he tries controlling himself, “I can’t- I can’t help it, I’m going to cum.”

“Cum,” You speak in unison, your word coming out muffled as you speak it against his cock. You smooth your hands up his thighs, feeling his muscles impossibly tight beneath your fingers. You stroke them soothingly, encouraging him to unclench his jaw that’s wired so tightly that you’re sure his teeth are on the verge of cracking, “Cum, Obi-Wan, please.”

Even if you hadn’t asked him so kindly, he’s sure he wouldn’t have been able to withhold any longer. Not with your pretty eyes gazing up at him from between his legs, lashes latticing the tender emotions swirling in your gaze. Your fingers slide calmly, sweetly over the expanse of his thighs, and the mere thought of you digging your nails harshly into them and leaving marks is what elicits the final twitch of his dick on your tongue.

Evidently, you’re more in tune with his thoughts than he’d expected. You’d caught the quick image that had flashed through his mind, now completely unguarded to you, and you curl your fingers quicker than he can comprehend, carving searing marks into his thighs that will show up red for at least a week. Paired with the movement of your fingers, you suck hard at his cock, plunging your face forwards to nestle against the base once more. His tip hits the back of your throat with force and it makes you gag, and Obi-Wan isn’t sure what sensation is more overwhelming: the vivid burning at his thighs, the way the tip of his dick nestles so securely into the warm, wet sleeve of your throat, or the way that you’re breathing in his sweat-marred scent like it’s the purest oxygen you’ve ever had in your lungs. All he knows is that together, they’re his undoing, and he lets out a rugged cry; he can’t control himself any longer when pleasure roars through him with a fury he’s almost frightened of.

He’s always calm, collected, in control. But now he’s grabbing your face with shaking hands as he pumps warm spurts of cum down your throat, holding your jaw steady so that you can’t back away, not that you want to. He holds you in place while his thighs begin to tremble, your tongue continuously smoothing over the underside of his cock while it twitches in your mouth. He keeps himself fully nestled into the back of your throat while he cums, and if he had energy to be embarrassed about cumming as much as he was, he’d be apologizing. But he can’t, not when you’re swallowing him so eagerly, throat convulsing around the head of his cock and only milking more out of him. There’s obscene groans coming from his mouth, the kind that bring heat to your own core, and you think you could get off to the sound a thousand times over if you recorded him now. They’re deep, throaty, and desperate as he holds your face around his cock, gagging you on his dick as his orgasm takes control of him.

A part of your training that hasn’t left you yet was your extensive disaster training, in which you were taught how to extend the time for which you could hold your breath. That comes in especially handy when Obi-Wan’s hands cradle your jaw, keeping you snugly choking around his dick. You have to fight not to draw back at the strange sensation of your throat being plugged while his cum splatters against the back of it,, and you use all of your strength to keep yourself from panicking at the lack of airflow. You’re only slightly ashamed to admit that you’d willingly die like this, a fucktoy for his cock.

Once his orgasm has worked its way through him he seems to remember you can’t breathe, all of the tension having leaked out of his muscles. He inhales with a start, pushing against your cheeks and tugging his cock out of your mouth, “Oh, Y/N, darling- Y/N, are you-?”

At the sight of your spit-soaked lips, tongue desperately running over them to collect any of the sweat that had accumulated there from being pressed against his pelvis, he lunges forwards to meet his lips with your own. He can taste the slight savory hint of his own release, your tongues meshing wetly and messily. He’s hunching now, even though you’ve straightened up on your knees, and he feels you clumsily palm at his dick, tucking him back away into his briefs. It makes his lips go slack with a gasp even though he’s just finished, and he’s more than eager to take you by the wrists and help you to your feet. You toss his undershirt at him with careless speed, and he nearly gets lost in its beige expanse from the way that his arms shake as he pulls it over his head.

“My quarters,” Your voice is thick and ragged, still recovering from your prior lack of oxygen, “We can- it’s soundproof, no one will know.”

“Yes,” He breathes, legs shaking slightly as he gathers the rest of the clothes he’d shed while sparring with you, “Um- we can... Anakin still hasn’t gotten the air conditioning running.”

“Uh-uh,” You shake your head, feeling nothing from the vent to your left, “Hurry, let’s go before-”

“General,” The door slides open, and you both startle, much less in tune with the force presences of those around you than you’d like to admit. One of your troopers sticks his head through the door, “The kid needs a multitool.”

You blink once, registering a slight soreness at the back of your throat, “Get him a multitool, then.”

You’re sure he can see your haggard appearance, and all apart from the glossy look of your lips looks like you’ve been sparring. Which you have, technically. You just hope Obi-Wan’s trousers don’t look like they’ve only just been hitched up around his waist again, or his shirt barely pulled down over his chest.

“I lost mine, general,” The trooper admits sheepishly. There was an abundance of the supplies that were offered to you before you’d been shipped out to this battle station, and more had been stocked for a long time in one of the supply closets, but your troopers are bored more often than not, and you shudder to think of all of the times they’ve used them as target practice by standing them on the balcony and opening fire. Apparently, you need to request some more from the next inspection team, as well as impress upon your troops the difference between an abundance of resources and useless clutter begging for a blaster wound.

“I have one in my quarters,” You sigh wearily, “Let’s see to it that we don’t misuse our equipment anymore, soldier.”

“Yes, General,” He nods vigorously, stepping out of your way to offer you the open door.

“Obi-Wan,” You turn apologetically, “We’ll have to continue our sparring match after I retrieve the multitool for your padawan. You’re welcome to follow us, though I’m not sure it’s any cooler out there than it is in here.”

“I’d like to stash my clothes somewhere, if you don’t mind,” Obi-Wan holds up the outer garments he’d shed, “I think it gives you somewhat of an unfair advantage if I’m liable to trip over my own tunics.”

You grant him a good-natured laugh as you pass your trooper in the doorway, and all in all, you think that the two of you have done a fantastic job at pretending his dick wasn’t in your mouth only minutes ago.

Your trooper makes the wise decision to stand outside of your quarters when you enter them, although any initial disappointment you’d felt at his poorly-timed request has well worn off by now. That’s all he’s guilty of, anyways; you find their antics amusing despite their destructive nature. It’s not his fault that you’re canoodling with the Jedi master, so you forgive him his abhorrent timing. You beeline for a locker in your closet, punching in the numeric code and letting the squeaky hinges reveal your small weapons store. It’s a multipurpose space, blasters on a rack that’s affixed to the back, a mount for your saber, and a drawer of various other mechanical supplies down below. You throw it open, and Obi-Wan watches you dig for the multitool where he stands by your bed, his tunics laid on your bedspread.

You realize all too late that one of your other mechanical supplies is in full view of the Jedi master standing behind you, black in color for subtlety but unmistakable in shape. It’s phallic and has a second prong that shoots off of the base to vibrate against your clit, something you only use when you're absolutely certain no one can hear. Besides, the sound could very well be mistaken for one of your troopers shaving their scruff, so you have ample opportunity. You snatch the multitool out of the drawer and slam it shut, making your trooper’s shoulders twitch in a quickly concealed wince. You’re thankful that only Obi-Wan was a temporary witness to your lack of organizational skills.

“Here,” You rush to hand it off, forcefully locking the cabinet and thrusting the tool towards the trooper, “Take it- uh, keep it, I’ll put in a request for more supplies tonight.”

“Thanks, General,” He nods warily at you, and you pity the way he’s taken your context clues and misarranged them to view your behavior as standoffish and exasperated with him, “My apologies again.”

“No worries,” You try not to snap at him, unnerved by the abnormal lack of mental pressure from Obi-Wan behind you. He used to tease you abundantly in your youth, prying at your mental shields and slipping snide remarks through the cracks while you fought to keep a straight face, but now that he’s laid his eyes on possibly the most embarrassing item you own, he’s completely still, completely silent.

“Goodbye.” You shut the door with a hydraulic hiss, and stand facing it until Obi-Wan speaks, pretending to fuss with the control panel.

“It seems you overlooked another multitool in that drawer,” His voice finally reaches over the silence, carefully bundled so that the underlying mirth is something you can only guess at, “Now I wonder if your battalion is really the cause of your foul mouth.”

“Shut up!” You whirl on him with cheeks blazing on opposite sides of your face like Tatooine’s twin suns, “Don’t tease me-”

“I’m not teasing you!” He insists, voice sounding aghast, like it’s out of the question, like he’s offended by the accusation, taking your arms into his grip when you look like you might shove him. His face is split into a smile - not a grin, which is reassuring - but a warm smile, even if there is amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“Yes you are,” You scoff, and you have half a mind to pull away when one of his hands releases your arm and anchors itself against your face instead. It’s warm, rough from wear but impossibly gentle. You fight leaning into it for as long as you can, pride still bruised, but he leans in to press his lips against your forehead in a chaste kiss.

Typical.

You’d gagged on his dick ten minutes ago, and he’s kissing your forehead.

“Darling,” He hums sympathetically, tucking your face against his chest so snugly that you think it was engineered for the curves and bumps of your skin. You relish the hug he traps you in, the tender hold even though you’re interested in something more carnal, feral, hungry. His voice is strong and soothing as he speaks, and the vibrations thrum through his chest and against your face “You had my cock in your mouth not ten minutes ago. I’m not going to make fun of you for having a toy.”

Oh. Perhaps he hadn’t forgotten.

“Such a foul mouth,” You admonish him, tucking your grin away between the haphazardly-righted folds of his tabard.

He pinches at your side, fingers greedily prying at the soft flesh of your belly through layers of clothing you wish weren’t between your skin and his, “Yes, well, it’s because I’ve had yours all over me.”

His hand, similarly bold to his mouth, flattens out along the curve of your side, tucking into the space above your hip bones. The other stays in place against your cheek, finger running idly across the underside of your jawline. You don’t know whether the shiver that shudders down your spine is due to the ticklish nature of his touch, or the sensual area he’s chosen, but he feels your spine thrum, and he presses further into you like it was an invitation.

“Darling,” He starts, back to that well-practiced hesitancy, “If you still want to…”

“I do,” You nod, feeling sweat drip down the back of your neck and soak into the fabric of your tank top, “Do you think we have time?”

“Anakin can occupy himself with scrap metal and multitools for hours,” Obi-Wan recollects with a smile on his face that isn’t committed to fondness or resignation. You’re sure he’s proud of his padawan’s abilities, but not of the havoc he wreaks with them.

“Hmm, that might be cutting it close,” You pretend to debate it, gnawing at the inside of your cheek, and he lets out a laugh as warm as the runoff heat from his saber with none of the bite of its blade.

“You’d occupy yourself with me for hours?” He teases, but when you nod, it’s earnest.

“I’d occupy myself with you for the rest of my life, Obi-Wan.”

The breath that he draws in when you begin speaking is the last one he draws for a while. Instead he holds it there, letting it burn and sear at his lungs while he wonders if any words he could produce with it would contain even a fraction of the yearning he feels roll over him in a nauseating wave. Very little has ever made him want the life of a civilian - his home is between the opulent walls of the Jedi temple, but any walls he shared with you would be infinitely more grandiose if only for your place within them.

“Had you said the word,” He elects to speak the truth, even if it isn’t even a chip away at the trove of feelings he keeps locked tightly away in his mind for you, “I would have left the Jedi Order.”

Would have.

You know why he won’t now, and you’re not upset with him for the reasons. You understand them, even if you don’t relate to them.

“But Anakin…”

“I know,” You nod against his chest, fingers taking hold of his undershirt’s fabric edge and fastening there, “You made a promise to your master. And to him. And he needs your help. I wouldn’t ask you to leave.”

“Would you have? When we were younger,” He idly strokes down the length of your spine, arm wrapping comfortably around your waist.

“Maybe…” You admit, “Maybe if I’d known your trip to Naboo would bring about such change. Maybe if I’d known I only had a few years left with you as we were. But I didn’t. So I never asked. And I never will.”

He doesn’t react verbally or physically after your confession, but the silence that ensues isn’t an awkward one. Instead, he maintains his hold on you, and you feel a gentle wave of affection flow from him through the Force. Affection, appreciation, love, which you feel so broadly through the Force, but rarely so devoted to you yourself rather than the galaxy in its entirety. You’re no stranger to the feeling, but it’s different channeled privately between two people than it is as a way of life.

“Let us pretend,” Obi-Wan finally musters, his voice thicker than usual, though if you were not so in tune with him you wouldn’t have perceived it, “For the next few fleeting moments, that we are still young. That we don’t have responsibilities other than those to ourselves, and to each other.”

Though your youth may have escaped you, your mind weary with resignation and Obi-Wan’s eyes darkened with the perpetual exhaustion of adulthood, his touch does not feel tired or incapable. It feels strong, firm, and mindful where it slips from your chin to your waist. His other hand sandwiches you between them, and you’re tilting your chin up to kiss him before he gives any indication that he’ll do the same. But he does, his boldness almost reset from the interruption you’d suffered. Like you need to coax him out of his shell again, like he’s worried you’ve somehow changed your mind.

You take the back of his neck in your hand, finding it slick and tacky with sour-smelling sweat, and pull him down so that his lips smash messily to your own. It’s a move he’s not expecting, and a startled groan escapes his lips as proof. You drink it, sucking it down your throat and pulling him towards the bed with the same backwards momentum. He’s nimble even if he’s unprepared, probably to do with his extensive agility training. You’re more than ready to fall back onto your bed when your calves butt against the frame but he lowers you down gently, with ease, drawing back from your kiss despite your fervent protests to watch you look up at him.

“Obi-Wan,” You beg, your voice weary, “Why are you hesitating?”

“I’m not hesitating,” He answers, and you feel it to be truthful, “I’m admiring you, darling. I’m not unsure, I’m more sure than I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Prove it,” You plead, already pulling at the hem of your tank top. You peel its sweat-soaked binding off of your skin, showcasing the equally stained garment beneath it that keeps your chest closer to your neck than your stomach, “Please, Obi-Wan, take me like you want me. Not like you feel bad for having me.”

“I do not feel bad for having you,” He promises, mouth barely parting from yours to utter the words. His lips are pink-tinted, glistening with spit, probably a mixture of his and yours. He pants slightly, cheeks similarly ruddy, “Perhaps later I will. When I stand in front of the Council and tell them we conducted routine maintenance. When I lie, when I guard my memories of you from them. But I’m not occupied with that now, darling. Only with you, I swear it.”

“Oh, well, that’s good to know,” You hum, kissing an inch lower than his mouth, the apex of his chin that’s marred by the scruff of his beard. It’s prickly and rough beneath your lips, and when you draw back they glisten with transferred sweat, “I’m glad you’re not thinking of Master Yoda while dipping a knee between my thighs.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan ducks his head, advances on pause as he plants his forehead against your shoulder, “That’s awful. Really, truly vile.”

You laugh, and despite his disgusted bravado, so does he. His chest shakes against yours and you relish the sound, hand still planted firmly on the back of his neck. You briefly consider breaking out your rusty Yoda impression, ‘kiss me, you must’, but decide against it, instead choosing to press his head closer to your torso, letting his forehead lay flush and sweaty against your shoulder. It puts the scruff of his beard on the curve of your tits, and you feel it burn your skin as he kisses along it lightly.

His mouth is soft, and his beard is its abrasive opposite. They trail in tandem along the slope of your breasts, first the soft lips and then the burn of the beard, until he’s lit a fiery trail across your skin to the padded edge of your bra. When his lips meet fabric instead of skin he noses beneath it, surely smelling a morning’s worth of sweat accumulated beneath the weight of your chest. You’re self conscious, for only a flash, then he takes a deep drag of air, inhaling until his chest seems fit to burst.

“I’m sorry,” You find yourself humming, regardless of his clear interest, “I wish a shower would help. Even the cold water doesn’t prevent sweating.”

“I don’t want you to shower,” He muses, pushing his face between your breasts to kiss at the skin between them. He mouths gently, tongue sliding over your skin with little form and too much spit that blends well with your sweat, “Sex is not sterile, darling. Soap and water defeat the purpose.”

You’re not sure whether it’s his insistence on the natural state of your body or the way that his knee gently prods against your center, but whatever it is, your fingers itch and you fling them up to cup the underside of your chest.

“Take it off,” You beg, and Obi-Wan shows no hesitation in complying, his hands sliding beneath your back, rough and weathered from work. They’re gentle as they slide over the clasp of your bra, and you push yourself up onto your elbows on the mattress so that he can maneuver the stretchy fabric easier.

“Does it hook or button?” He nudges his nose against yours to ask, and your stomach flops at the question. Both the fact that he doesn’t have enough experience to know, and the way that he feels comfortable enough admitting that to you by asking so earnestly only make you want him more, and you’re barely able to mumble ‘clasp’ before pressing your lips to his own once more.

“Three,” You add later, against his lips, when he unhooks one and still doesn’t have the garment undone, “There’s three.”

He takes your orders with unfailing patience, a trait you’d admired even in your youth. While you’d been more prone to hotheaded outbursts, he’d take you by the arm and speak for the both of you, usually resulting in far less severe of a punishment than you’d have gotten if you’d spoken your mind. Then the two of you would share sneaky, fleeting glances at each other while scrubbing the floors of the refectory, trying not to laugh loud enough for the Knight unwillingly supervising your punishment to hear.

You’re pulled out of your reverie when he finally unhooks the garment and slips it off of your shoulders, meaning you have to draw back from where you’d tucked your face over his shoulder, giving him a view of his work. As your faces pass each other he offers you the same grin he’d worn all those years ago, his pretty eyes alight with the love you feel seeping from his fingertips. You see a glimpse of the boy he was through the man he’s become, and both are equally endearing to you. The first, because you’d grown with him, like ferns tangled together in sticky, clinging tendrils. The second, because he wears his accomplishments on his face, crows feet at the corners of his eyes from laughing at his padawan’s wayward antics, and frown lines for scowling at the same incidences only moments prior. He’d laughed at you in your youth, and frowned just the same at your more uncouth ideas for adventure, and now those expressions are etched into his face, like layers of makeup no longer dissolvable with remover. He’ll wear them forever, and you want to see him display them even in his old age.

He watches the way that your body moves when he peels the sweat-soaked garment away from your chest. He watches your breasts succumb to gravity’s harsh pull, sloping sideways and downwards rather than maintaining their tight compress towards your chin. He watches them sag, watches them fall to their natural state and declares, “You’re beautiful, darling.”

He takes them in his hands, their mass in his palms as he rolls his thumb over the skin of your nipples. They’d usually pebble in the cold but now they’re pulling taut beneath his touch, and when he brushes his thumb over their peak you stifle a gasp.

“Beautiful,” He repeats, and leans down to meet one with his mouth. He gravitates towards the right one first, and the embrace of his hot mouth against your skin tempts your back to arch. His tongue presses flat against your nipple, then drags up its surface, and his lips kiss over the stripe of saliva he’d left behind.

His beard rubs against your skin and it’s not rawing, not yet, but you know it will be the more he mouths at your breast. He’s licking, sucking, pulling, but never biting, teeth merely grazing your flesh rather than indulging in it. His tongue does that instead, flattening out over your raised flesh and dragging hot, wet stripes over the bud of your perked nipple.

“Obi- Obi-Wan,” You gasp, dragging desperate, heaving breaths into your lungs as your hands fly to his lengthened hair. You’d ruffled it many times when it was short and spiked, but now you’re able to get purchase in the strawberry-blonde locks, curling your fingers around the soft, sweat-darkened strands and pulling.

You don’t pull hard, but it’s unexpected, and you feel the momentary pinch of Obi-Wan’s teeth around your breast. It floods heat to your already-pulsing core more than you’d have thought possible, considering the sweltering temperatures you’ve been in the whole time, but the soft groan that then ripples through your skin from the depths of his throat only makes you more desperate. All of a sudden the long-suffering heat is tepid by comparison, and you yank at the material of his undershirt so hard you nearly rip the fabric.

“Off,” You pant, “Please, take it- get it off, Obi-Wan.”

In a fluid, crouched movement Obi-Wan tears his undershirt off with one hand at its hem, his muscles flexing as he swings the arm up and over his head. He discards the shirt carelessly beneath him and it droops to the floor, no longer covering the bare skin of his chest that you’d admired earlier.

You have half a mind to do to him what he’s been doing to you, to sink your teeth into the flesh of his chest and suckle on his sweat-soaked skin. But he dips his face back to mouth at your tit once more, so you settle for running your hands greedily, desperately over the layer of soft skin that blocks his muscled chest from view. When he was younger, what seems like an eternity but must only be five years, his build was more defined. You’d gotten plenty of eyefuls of his bare, heaving chest during a particularly intense sparring match, or down by one of the large pools that were definitely supposed to be used more for reflection and tranquility rather than the chaos you’d wreaked upon them. But years of planning someone else’s schedule before his own has meant that he’s softened out around the middle, muscles still prominent when you dig your fingers into his skin, just not starkly visible anymore.

Age does that to a person; pushes them harder than ever before to achieve a less-defined result than they’re used to, but you find that you want to grind down onto the thin layer of pudge he’s accumulated just as much as you’d have wanted to drag yourself over his defined abs. The thought of doing both, either, anything makes you dizzy with desire that you express by scratching your sharpened nails down his skin, feeling his muscles shudder beneath your fingers.

“Darling,” He groans, choking on the word like it’s gagged him, “I- I think we ought to- are you ready?”

You marvel at his sincerity, at the idea that he’s not aware of the throbbing, slick mess that your core has become. You’d been ready twenty minutes ago, sprawled out on the floor beneath him, and you’ve only gotten more eager since then. His concern makes you want him more, and you use your grip on his soft hair to tug him upwards to meet your lips in a kiss.

“I’m ready,” You breathe, laying the words out in a hazy moan over his tongue, “I’m ready, Obi-Wan, please- please take me.”

A groan melts from his mouth like molten butter, dripping over your tongue and down your throat. He pants, lets you suck his tongue into your mouth in a long, eager drag, then mumbles clumsily, “I want you. I want- I want to have you, darling, I want to take you.” His hips roll experimentally against your own, the tight pressure of his clothed cock digging into your panties as he nearly loses the function in the muscles that are holding him up above you.

He lets out another moan as you drag your hips up to meet his premature thrusts, and this time it’s a weaker sound, more strangled and mottled. It’s satisfying, knowing that you’ve reduced the ever-stoic, prized Jedi negotiator Obi-Wan Kenobi to a heaving mass of sweat and desire. His undershorts are rucked up around his meaty thighs, but he hasn’t yanked them off to free his stiff cock yet, so for a moment, all you do is grind against each other.

The layers of clothing between you, one covering you and two covering him, provide frustrating boundaries but much-needed friction, and the scrape of his rough undershorts dragging against your thin panties makes your fingers curl into his back once more. You suspect that when he wakes tomorrow, your marks will still be there, and you take pride in knowing that he’ll have a very hard time forgetting you.

“Obi-” You really do intend to say his full name, but your breath leaves your lungs too quickly for it, and you revert back to the nickname he’d loathed as a teenager. Too juvenile, he’d protested greatly at the clipped diminutive, but he leans into it now. He licks the word right off of your tongue, his own plunging past your lips and dragging over your teeth in a messy, imprecise fashion. You get the sense that this is not about sex to him, it’s not about mechanics or equations or the perfect formula. It’s about you, and him, and you and him together. He doesn’t kiss you like a storybook prince because he kisses you like Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan wants to lick the spit out of your mouth and suck on your tongue. Obi-Wan wants to feel, not think, for once in his life, so he does.

“Obi-” You falter again, hands traveling from his muscled back to his hips. Your fingers dip beneath the waistband of his undershorts, then his briefs where they lay against the same stretch of skin, “Off. Off, please- Obi-Wan, off, take ‘em- off.”

He grunts his approval into your mouth, obscene squelching sounds coming from where his spit pools between your teeth and your tongue. He reaches down with a blind, clumsy hand to tug at his waistband, but when it doesn’t provide immediate results, he finds himself getting frustrated. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, not the frustration itself but his inability to control it, and he feels his brow crease in irritation as he reluctantly parts from your mouth to focus on the task at hand. All he needs is a little extra leverage to slide his shorts off of his waist, briefs bunched together, and as soon as they’re out of his way he’s reaching for your own underwear.

You crane your neck downwards to watch him, and the glimmering mess of saliva in your mouth practically doubles in volume at the sight of his red-tipped, rock-hard cock. It’s curved slightly up towards his stomach in its desperation, and there’s precum oozing from its tip, foaming and all too appealing. You want to suck him off again, to really choke yourself on it this time and never draw back for air, but there’s no time when he tugs swiftly at the elastic band of your panties, tearing them easily away from you. They drag beneath your thighs but he merely pulls harder, until they spring free and bunch up around your knees.

“Up,” Obi-Wan taps at your left thigh, and you struggle to bend your knees amidst their relentless trembling. He helps you, strength having stuck with him even when composure has abandoned its post. You get your left thigh up first, exposing your glistening cunt, smeared sticky with your own slick. His breath catches, you feel it stutter to a stop in his chest that you’re groping, and his eyes glimmer in the warm lights above you.

“Darling,” He breathes, taken by the mess of your drooling cunt. He reaches out, touches it carefully, with only the pad of his pointer finger. He ghosts it along the side of your slit, and even the infuriatingly chaste touch is ultra erotic. At the way you writhe beneath a single one of his fingers he brings his thumb up to stroke down your slit, catching wetness on his thumb that his mouth opens to accommodate.

He sucks your release clean off of his thumb, you’re almost certain he scrapes his teeth along his skin just to get it all.

He leans into his own thumb, chases after it like he’s not the one taking it out of his mouth. He hesitates no further in clamoring backwards on the mattress until his knees hit the floor below, and he thanks the Force that the beds you were given are low enough for him to lean over the edge and bury his face in your cunt.

“Obi-Wan, no!” You plead, fingers tangling in his pretty blonde hair, “You’ll- you said- don’t cum yet, please, I- I want it in me!”

“I will cum in you,” He pledges, voice deep and determined as he nudges his nose against your wet cunt, “My darling, I’ll do whatever you ask. But I need you here, now. Please,” He breathes, his exhale shaky and warm as it heats your cunt, “Please, Darling, I want you here.”

“Have me,” You whimper, squirming your hips from side to side to propel yourself down the mattress. Your cunt bumps messily against his face that he doesn’t bother moving, and you buck your hips once, twice against his nose, riding his face, “Please, have me, Obi-Wan, you can have me.”

Your consent is all it takes. His mouth is open and his tongue is out the second you say the word, licking wet, tantalizingly slow stripes up your slit. He doesn’t breach it, doesn’t delve his tongue into your entrance, he laps at the slick smeared on the outside, as well as the wetness that has thoroughly soaked your thighs. Your skin is tacky with it even when he’s replaced it with his spit, and your cunt throbs at the meticulous approach he’s taken to appreciating every drop you give him.

It’s too meticulous.

After another slow, careful, nearly chaste lave of his tongue over the crease between your thigh and your cunt, probably just as soaked with sweat as it is with slick, you retighten your now-loose grip in his hair. You’d let go of the strands when he’d given you what you wanted, but now you want more, and you lead him straight to your core where he’d been lapping at your thighs instead.

“Here,” You beg, pulling his face against your drooling cunt until you’re certain he’s unable to breathe. You feel his nose breach your slit, nudged into your cunt by your insistent tugging on his hair.

“I need you here, inside, please.” You beg, pussy aching with abandon. His slow, careful ministrations had driven you mad, and now you are teetering on the edge of insanity as you nearly howl, “Please!”

His response is white-hot and wet. His tongue prods gently from between his lips as his jaw widens, and he watches your reaction as he fills your cunt with his slick tongue. A gush of your own wetness greets him, and as insistent as he is at meeting your eyes, his own flutter shut at the taste.

“Force,” He breathes, and the exclamation is uncommon from him. The muffled, garbled word sends vibrations straight into your cunt, and after the initial shock of his tongue inside of you, you feel his beard.

It scrapes abrasively against the sensitive, licked-over skin of your inner thighs, and prickles deliciously at the base of your leaking cunt. You feel sharp hairs prod at the curve of your ass, and his mouth moves fluidly, tongue wriggling with surprising prowess through the mess of slick you’ve accumulated in your cunt. It slides wetly along your inner walls that have made way for his tongue, and that will stretch eagerly to accommodate his cock.

His cock, oh, you’d forgotten the thick weight on your tongue, and your jaw aches with the ghost of it. Your cunt aches, too, and when his nose softly bumps your clit you gasp as your hips jolt upwards. He catches your thighs with Jedi agility, his muscles not straining at all to hold you to the mattress. The casual, easy display of strength makes your thighs quiver, and something inside of you tighten like a knot.

He licks you out like he’s drinking ambrosia, the glistening substance smeared over his face and starting up the bridge of his nose. The noises that he makes are hungry and wild as he licks more, sucks more, takes more. He’d moderated himself at first, lapped the sticky spillings of your wet cunt like he was rationing a meal. Now he feasts, tongue losing focus from inside your pussy and rapidly licking over your clit. His lips suction on and his beard burns tantalizingly at your sloppy cunt. You feel stimulation everywhere, the knot below your belly tightening ever-stronger until you feel the beginnings of a fray. It’s a step you take, an incline that you scramble up, and each pedestal you achieve gives way to a higher one. You let yourself climb, climb, climb, against every pulse of his suctioned lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves, and you breach the clouds as Obi-Wan broadens his sucking mouth to half-latch to your clit, his tongue delving back into your drooling cunt. You leap for the final pedestal and a surge of pleasure hits you, soaking wet like a wave that you ride back down to the surface.

You tremble, you whimper, you love. Your thighs shake, the muscles in your stomach stuttering as your hips jolt and jerk. Your mouth produces such feeble sounds, whines and moans and ‘Oh, please, yes’s, and ‘Obi-Wan- kriff!’s. Your fingers in his hair latch tight but cling gentle, holding him to you as you lose control of yourself in the Force. All of the love, all of the passion, all of the attachment, all of the terrible-horrible-no-good-very-bad-un-Jedi-like things that you’re not supposed to feel surge through the Force and hit Obi-Wan like Coruscant’s train, knocking the wind out of him, though he never stops sucking at you.

Obi-Wan licks you through your orgasm, tongue pressing tight and hot and wet to the quiver of your cunt, letting it spasm against his mouth. He sucks up every last drop of slick that you’ll give him, greedily mouthing at your cunt long after it’s begun stinging from oversensitivity. You want his mouth off, and his cock in, although that first part sounds like a heinous thing to wish for. His tongue is perfection, slippery and knowing you well enough to hit just the right spots even though it’s never had you before. You only push his mouth away to beg for his cock, but you’re tempted to let him white out your vision and lick at you until he passes out.

“Obi-!” You gasp, pushing instead of pulling at his golden hair, “Obi-Wan, no- no more! Here, up- here, please, and I want you inside of me.”

He lets you unlatch him from your pulsing cunt, rife with the sting of stimulation. You need only a matter of seconds to come down from your high, but they’re seconds you can’t afford to spend on Obi-Wan’s tongue, or the clock won’t ever start. He licks at a smear of slick over your thigh that he’d missed earlier, and his brain seems to register your begging.

“Alright, darling,” He pants, out of breath from the way he’d spent it all in your cunt. His voice is ragged, drowned in slick and thick with want.

He clamors back onto the mattress, all humbly-forged muscles and greed. He hovers over you, and dips down to claim your mouth the way he had your cunt: with broad, sweeping swipes of his tongue. He licks your slick across your tongue, letting you taste yourself on him.

“I’m here,” He soothes, his voice a notch deeper than usual and his words malformed due to the open ring of his mouth. He licks against your tongue once more, sloppy and hot, as his hips grind down against your thigh. He knows you need time but he doesn’t have long, and he grinds against your hip until you’re ready. You feel his stiff cock digging into your flesh, and it sends pulses of energy to your recovering cunt that make it beg to be filled. He’s not composed the way that he normally is, but he’s managing to hold himself together through grunts and groans into your mouth. If you don’t act fast, he’s going to splatter your stomach with cum, which wouldn’t be distasteful by any means, but you’d rather him paint your insides with it.

“You are intoxicating,” Obi-Wan proclaims, speaking directly into your mouth, an addict that can’t wean off of his drug, “I don’t know how I am supposed to pretend like this never happened.”

“Don’t,” You beg breathlessly, “Don’t forget me. Keep quiet around others, and- and when you are alone,” You reach down to take his cock into your hands, heavy and thick and waiting, “When you lay in bed at night, when you touch yourself-” He lets out something teetering on the edge of a whimper as you stroke your hand along his flushed length, an angry red coloring the tip that exposes how much self-control he’s composing, “-touch yourself, and- and think of me. Think of my hands, of my mouth, of my cunt. Think of me, Obi-Wan.”

“I will,” He vows, his voice holding like a frayed rope with one thread remaining, strained and pulling and clinging together, “Please let me have you. Please,” He braces his forehead against yours, his cock throbbing in your palm, “Please darling, let me in. I want to be inside of you, I want to have you, please.”

You’ve never seen him babble before. Not when he’d been seven years old, bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked, caught with a stray tooka cat in his robes halfway back to the creche. Not when he’d been fifteen and a warrior, his side split open in a gory mess of blood and flesh and lymph and bone. Not at his old master’s funeral, the light from the pyre’s flames dancing upon his stoic features. Obi-Wan Kenobi is a master at composure, but he is breathless now, sacrificing it to the dewy-warm crease where your neck meets your shoulder, and sucking up your sweat-salty scent in return.

You place your free hand on his back, sticky and flushed beneath your touch, and use it to help guide him into you. Your other hand, still wrapped around his cock, lines it up with your entrance and he needs little coaxing from there. He pushes himself into you slowly, courteously, but loses himself to some deep, primal urge that he’s buried beneath layers of meditation and balance.

He comes undone.

His muscles surge and his hips buck in what begins as a steady pace, but transforms into a wild rhythm that pins you against the mattress. He lets out a groan into the sweaty juncture of your neck, something that sounds like it could be from a beast and not a man. You feel the scrape of his beard against the seldom-touched skin there and you’re sure it’s growing raw, but you couldn’t care less. He’s not holding your hips up - his hands are plastered to your side and holding you there with a force carefully and pointedly short of bruising - but you angle your pelvis up anyway, allowing him to hit that much deeper inside of you. The tip of his cock never hurts where it connects briefly each thrust with your cervix, but you feel it intimately, every vein and ridge and curve that his body has to offer.

You’re grateful for the sound-proof walls of the military compound because you realize after a moment that you’re making noise just the same as he is. It’s softer, quieter, but it’s there, the underlying harmony to his leading grunts and groans.

All the while he is soft and gentle, because what he wants is not sex, it is you. Perhaps if he were a lesser man, he’d squeeze you, or bend you, or break you, all to take you the way he wants. But it is the soul inside of you that he’s after, and he takes great care with the vessel it’s enclosed in. He holds you, but he does not squeeze you. He kisses you, but he does not bite you. He moves with you, not against you. Your hips surge upwards to meet the thrusts of his cock and he latches his mouth to yours desperately, pleadingly. Your breathing is short and staccato through your nose, fanning against his top lip as he mashes it messily to your own, and you’re much easier to bring to a climax the second time around, sensitivity still roiling in your blood from your previous orgasm.

“Obi-Wan,” You beg, the words spilling languidly into his mouth, as you move in tandem, in, out, in, out, forwards, backwards, everything, nothing.

“Obi- I’m gonna- ooh, I’m gonna cum,” You cry, overwhelmed by the consistent drag of his cock against the walls of your soaked cunt. You’re slick again, gushing enough to replenish however much Obi-Wan had licked out of you. It squelches as he drives his dick into your pussy, foamy from the repetitive motions that are only creating it at faster intervals.

“Please- please do,” He moans, his dick twitching inside of you, “Force, I- ah, there’s nothing I want more than to feel that, darling. Please- please cum, please-”

“Kiss me,” You plead, even though he’s never stopped, if the way that his mouth moves against yours can still be considered a kiss. It’s far from any conventional peck on the lips, mostly tongue and drool that seeps down the side of your mouth and into your neck, mixing with the sweat already lingering there from your workout.

He tries kissing you more neatly, his lips tightening and suctioning around your own, but the closer you both get to your impending orgasms, the sloppier his thrusts are, and the more slack his mouth goes, smothering your own instead of truly kissing it while his tongue continues its dogged pursuit of your own. It’s no matter; his spit leaks uncontrollably into your mouth and you relish the taste. You don’t need perfection, you need him.

You can’t help your wandering hand from snaking down to his waist, curving just below his cock to cradle his balls against your palm. They’re heavy and warm as you take them into your hand, and doing so elicits a gasp from the man chasing his release inside of you, his hips stuttering in their pursuit of the wet warmth of your cunt. You squeeze them, not harshly, just a gentle compression, and Obi-Wan melts. A whimper escapes his lips, still slack and pressed to your own, and though his thrusts momentarily slow, they resume at double the pace. He’s rapidly bucking his hips now, barely containing himself enough to lift one hand off of your side and bring it to your chest. He fits his palm over one of your breasts, your stiff, sensitive nipple caving against his palm. You gasp at the prickling sensation and your fingernails momentarily dig into his back, but when his dick twitches once more inside of you, desperate, fit-to-burst, you drag them down his back in searing red lines.

If you hadn’t been able to feel Obi-Wan cum inside of you, you’d have known it was happening from the cry he releases alone. It’s abrupt, like his orgasm catches him off-guard even though he’s been pursuing it. But you can feel it, you can feel his warm cum ooze out of the head of his cock, momentarily stationary as it’s snug against your cervix. You feel it gush from his dick, filling any and all available space in your pulsating cunt before flooding outwards, dripping down your ass and thighs in an obscene display that soaks right into your bedsheets. Obi-Wan rides out his climax at a pace rapid enough to coax your second one out of you, and you welcome the now-familiar sensation of cumming around Obi-Wan. It’s mind-numbing, your ears ring for a faint moment, and your cunt rapidly clenches and unclenches around his cock that’s all too happy to continue occupying the space.

He grunts, moans, and groans as his sloppy thrusts finally slow, and your cunt appreciates the reduced pace. You’re well and truly spent, difficult to achieve for someone who’d gone through endurance training since childhood, and you’re not surprised that Obi-Wan, too, needs a break. He lowers himself to your chest with a slow, shaky exhale, eyes closed and face glistening with sweat just as your own does.

His beard grates roughly against your skin, shifted with every ragged breath that he draws in. His hair spills over the breast that his mouth isn’t nestled beside, and you stare down at his face, marveling how beautiful his barely-fluttering lashes and heaving chest are.

Before he opens his eyes he angles it towards you, so that the first thing he sees is your flushed, sweaty, open-mouthed expression. He’s in the perfect position to kiss the side of your breast, and it tingles with the phantom sensation of his palm flat against your perked nipple barely minutes before. His beard scrapes your skin like it has since you first kissed him, and you wonder if you’ll ever be able to live happily without the scratch of it against your cheeks, or thighs, for that matter. The skin between your legs is still raw, stinging with the friction of Obi-Wan’s coarse hair against your flesh..

“You look beautiful, darling,” He hums, his voice grated raw from fatigue. His breath fans hot over your chest, but he pushes himself up on his tired biceps to hover over you. His weight against you had been comforting, but his gaze is even more so, and you let him loom over you.

His chest, peppered with auburn curls so fine they glisten in the poor lighting of your quarters, rises and falls deeply in front of you. You have half a mind to bury your face in it; you might if his face wasn’t impossibly more captivating.

His eyes search yours, for what you’re not sure, but you realize that his breathing gets more shallow until his chest stills completely. He only releases his breath when you reach up to thumb gently at his sternum, loosening his lungs again.

“Do you regret it?”

You suppose you didn’t have to ruin the moment so harshly, but you want to know the truth. You want to know if this was worth it, or if you’re going on the list of regrets that Obi-Wan pours over obsessively.

He takes a moment to answer, but you suspect it’s because he’s been caught off guard by your question. He shakes his head, dipping his face down to kiss the swell of your cheek.

“No, I don’t.” He mumbles against the dewy skin of your face, hiding his words there in self-preservation. You kiss the fleeting scruff of his beard as he pulls away, and your eyes find the blue of his instantly.

“You needed convincing at first,” You recall warily, something sinking in your chest now that you’re not puppettered by lust, “Are you certain it was the right thing to do?”

“Not at all,” He admits, “In fact, I think it was wrong of me. But I’ve done it anyways, and I am happy for that.”

“Why wrong?” You ghost your knuckles against his cheek, and he leans into it like he used to do when you’d clean scrapes and cuts he’d acquire while sparring.

“I am more attached to you now than ever,” He offers simply, but it doesn’t seem like it pains him to confess. He seems lighter now, less embroiled in his own anxiety. “And I’m not certain I can keep my personal feelings- well, personal. I don’t know that I could think rationally about you. That’s not desirable to the Order, or to the war effort.”

You bite your tongue, teeth digging softly into its muscle.

“All the same,” He continues, “Jedi are not without attachments. Younglings form friendships in the creche, and their minders love them. Padawans love their Masters, and vice versa. Masters engage in relations,” He acknowledges, then his brows tick up and he considers, “Ki Adi Mundi has four wives. Perhaps I’m not the most blasphemous Jedi they’ve ever seen.”

A laugh comes tumbling from your lips before you can stop it, and Obi-Wan’s face softens into a grin of his own.

“Five,” You correct him, “He has five wives.”

“Force, he’s a heretic,” Obi-Wan exclaims, but it’s all for show; he holds no ill opinions of the council member.

“I’m happy for his wives,” You hum, the sound just short of a giggle, “But I prefer your beard over his.”

“Oh, but he’s got a better mustache than me,” Obi-Wan settles on his side facing you, a smile etched permanently into his features as he plays along with the banter you’ve started. He relishes its lighthearted nature compared to the hesitance of moments prior, “Maybe I should grow it out and curl it like his.”

Before you can offer him another round in exchange for a promise to never shape his facial hair around Master Mundi’s, the walls of your compound give a creaky grinding sound, then a rumble, and air whooshes through the vents you’ve come to loathe for their uselessness in the recent past.

“He did it!” You gawk, sitting up excitedly, nearly forgetting that you’re topless, “Oh Force, Anakin’s a wizard! He really is, he’s a mechanical wizard, and I’m going to buy him a speeder for this.”

“Do not,” Obi-Wan groans, sitting up beside you and tugging you easily to fit your back against his chest, “The last thing that boy needs is the ability to go faster.”

“He did it,” You sigh happily, leaning back and pressing your lips to Obi-Wan’s. He reciprocates easily now, unlike before when he’d run himself ragged with doubts.

“That means we’ll be off soon,” Obi-Wan reminds you gently, and you deflate slightly in his hold, “But I don’t think comming each other should be any issue.”

“Every night?” You suggest, kissing at the prickly cleft of his chin.

“That’s- ambitious.” He chuckles, but it’s not meant to tease, “Every night, darling.”

“You can send me dirty videos,” You gush, scrambling to free yourself from Obi-Wan’s hold when he tries locking his fingers onto your sides, nipping sharply at your shoulder.

“I will not!” He insists, voice firm but chest trembling with barely-withheld laughter, “Force, if I pressed the wrong button…”

“Perhaps Master Mundi could share it with one of his wives,” You laugh, scrambling back into your underclothes and heading for the fresher to clean yourself up, “Hurry up and get dressed, Obi-Wan, one of my troopers is probably on their way to tell us the good news!”

Your suspicions are confirmed only moments later, thankfully, after you’ve both had time to right your appearances. You look flushed and sweaty, if anything, but the cool air hasn’t managed to flood the entire compound yet, and you’ve been exercising, so it’s excusable. No one but you two needs to know that exercising didn’t mean sparring for longer than ten minutes.

“Anakin, you’re fantastic,” You call, rushing through the empty hangar where he’s standing near the ramp of the ship, “You’ve saved us all. I’m fairly certain my troops would have resorted to fratricide if we’d had to melt here for any longer.”

The padawan gives you a valiant effort at a polite chuckle, and you press on, “For the record, I told your master I’d get you a speeder for helping us today, but he said no.”

“Y/N,” Obi-Wan starts, exasperated, but catches himself on the use of your first name. Perhaps it feels different now, coming out of his mouth much more measured than it had only twenty minutes prior. He doesn’t speak further.

Anakin’s eyes briefly glint at the fantasy of his own speeder, but he controls himself quickly. He’s a credit to his master, who manages to look convincingly like he hadn’t just broken a very long streak of celibacy. Still, you appreciate that war hasn’t managed to suck the most basic of excitements out of the child, and you reach up to pat his cheek in a gesture distinctly un-Jedi like.

“Take care of yourself, and don’t let Obi-Wan bore you with a million lectures on economics, or politics, or the two combined.”

Anakin nods, but bites his lower lip to refrain from smirking, saving himself a lecture on sass later on. You hear Obi-Wan exhale huffily behind you, and you turn your attention to him when Anakin retreats onto the ship.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t add to my apprentice’s willfulness,” He grouses, but the corner of his mouth twitches upwards in fondness for you both, “He’s got enough of that on his own.”

“Take care of yourself,” You ignore his teasing, your voice tender and sweet, slightly more than it had been for Anakin, “I know they don’t send you out much, because he’s only fourteen, but- but please take care of yourself, Obi-Wan.”

Perhaps if Anakin hadn’t been lingering on the ramp of the ship, perhaps if there weren’t five clone troopers stationed in the hangar, perhaps if you were the only two people in the world, like it had felt less than an hour ago, Obi-Wan would have kissed you. But he doesn’t, all he does is nod,

“We will,” He vows, and you nod, satisfied.

“I mean it,” You continue, more threatening than your earlier sentiment, “Comm me.” And you think back to the request you’d made earlier, breathlessly, the words fanning out against his sweaty skin, “And… think of me.”

You know he’s recalling the same moment in time when his cheeks tinge pink.

“I will,” He promises, singular this time, confirming your suspicions that his mind is flashing with visions of your flushed skin beneath his hands, “And please take care of yourself, too, General.”

Something hard and aching tugs at the back of your throat at the honorific, such a far cry from the intimacy you’d shared. But now you are General Y/L/N, and he is Master Kenobi, and that is the way things must be in the presence of others.

“Master Kenobi,” You bow, bending at the waist and noting the soft tug of soreness there.

“General Y/L/N,” Obi-Wan mimics your gesture, hands folded neatly into the sleeves of his robes.

He turns. He pivots on his feet and strides up the ramp of the ship they’d taken, Anakin waiting until he’s passed through the doorway to follow behind him. The door hisses shut, concealing them both, and the mechanical whiz-kid has the engines powered up in no time. You watch their ship take flight and navigate the narrow entrance to your hangar with ease, waiting until they’ve passed each temperature-isolating layer of defense that enshroud your compound and disappear into the planet’s heat-hazy atmosphere to turn away.

“General,” One of your troopers lingers behind you, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” You put on a convincing show, smiling serenely, “I’d just forgotten how much of a challenge sparring with Master Kenobi is. I’m fatigued; I think I’ll retire to my quarters for some rest.”

“General,” He nods, stating your title like a vow of loyalty, standing at attention as the hangar doors finally shut you in.

You walk the familiar path to your sparse quarters absentmindedly, feeling that same twinge of achiness each time you take a step. Only once your door hisses shut do you release the prim tension in your shoulders, slumping and slouching like you’d just escaped the throes of battle.

There is a shirt on your bed.

It’s white, though it’s been worn thoroughly, so the color is muddied ever so slightly with the tan tinge of sweat. It’s rumpled, from a hasty removal. It’s laid over your poor excuse for a blanket, cream-colored against the starkly contrasting black fabric. It’s impossible to miss, which means it had to have been placed there deliberately; it wasn’t forgotten.

It’s Obi-Wan’s.

You overcome your momentary stun and pad towards the bed, reaching for the shirt with a hesitant hand. You take it, feel it ever-so-slightly damp with lingering perspiration, and your stomach flips.

It’s Obi-Wan’s; it’s yours.

The shirt winds up snug around your pillow, tucked beneath the Republic-issue linen. It’s invisible to the outside eye, but when your nose is pressed gauchely into the pillowcase you can smell Obi-Wan through it, a mix of natural and artificial scents.

The musk of cologne and the acrid smell of sweat. Composure and lust. What is right and what is wrong.

You and Obi-Wan.

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owkse · 2 years

Text

Little Kyber

Chapter 4

‘Be careful young one, holding onto things might cause you to distraction’ warned Obi Wan gently brushing his pinkie against yours as you walked.

‘Yes Master’

‘Are you ok little kyber?’ asked Obi Wan, reaching his fingers out brushing against your hands with his fingertips, after you were both left back to back spinning in the tractor beam.

‘I’m fine Obi, what about you?’ You asked, taking comfort in the man’s action.

‘I’m ok, I just hope Anakin got our message’ huffed Obi Wan making you giggle.

‘You really have turned grumpy since taking on a Padawan’ you said teasingly.

‘Maybe we should focus on getting out of here….. and I’m not grumpy’ sniffed Obi Wan.

‘I sense all the star systems are still here… Dooku he’s making his way here, I can sense the Bounty Hunter and the child here too’ you said.

‘Traitor’ said Obi Wan as Dooku entered the room.

‘Oh no my friends, the Geonosians have gone to far, I will partition for your immediate release’ said Dooku.

‘Please do, we have work to do’ you commented, scowling at the man as you sensed the darkness coming off the man.

‘May I ask just what two Knights are doing this far in the Outer Rim?’ asked Dooku.

‘We are looking for a Bounty Hunter called Jango Fett, do you know him?’ asked Obi Wan.

‘No, there would be no Bounty Hunter here, the Geonosians don’t trust them’ said Dooku.

‘I assure you he is here’ said Obi Wan.

‘There’s an awful a lot of star systems you have congregating out there Dooku’ you commented.

‘Yes, they have been coming to me with concerns about the Senate… I could do with Qui Gon’s guidance now’ said Dooku, attempting to get a stir out of Obi Wan.

Feeling the fluttering in the force you stretched your fingers out, brushing the tips of your fingers against the skin of the man at your back. Satisfied when you felt the man’s signature calm down, you turned your attention to Dooku.

‘Qui Gon would never join you’ said Obi Wan.

‘He would if he knew what I did’ said Dooku, his words making you shiver.

‘And just what do you know?’ You asked.

‘What would you say if I told the Galactic Senate was under the control of a Dark Lord of the Sith?’ said Dooku.

‘Impossible, the council would be aware of it’ said Obi Wan.

‘Their judgement has been shrouded by the darkness, but I assure you it is true’ said Dooku.

You couldn’t stop the action, reaching out in the force you gasped out a breath, the truth surrounding the words of the once Jedi Master before you, shocked you to your core. Hearing your gasp Obi Wan went to reach out to you, only to find you shut down your mental shields blocking him.

‘Help me, both of you, help me to destroy the Sith once and for all’ whispered Dooku his eyes trained on you.

‘Never’ you whispered.

‘It will be very hard for me to secure your release’ said Dooku matching your soft tone, before he turned and left.

‘Y/N…. Y/N’ came Obi Wan’s voice, shaking you from your thoughts.

‘What?’ You asked, almost bewildered.

‘Are you ok?’

‘Oh yeah fine’ you said keeping your shields up.

‘Y/N…?’

‘I’m fine, let’s just focus on trying not to get killed’ you said.

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan #star wars #jedi #star wars imagine #jedi council

28 notes · View notes

spacesurfing · 1 year

Note

Oh no I’m sorry I didn’t know you weren’t taking requests but I cannot get jealous/possessive ani smut

I love his metal hand ahhh

It's alright, I don't mind writing for Ani! I love it too.

•--•

Where Are Your Manners?

Anakin Skywalker x Reader Smut

Summary: You found your way into trouble, loving Anakin. And the trouble you found tonight came in the form of his endless need to know you were only his.

Warnings: NSFW, mentioned long hair!reader, jealous!Anakin, choking, degrading, possessive!Anakin, maybe exhibitionism???, p in v, no protection whatsoever!!

•--•

Maybe you could blame Senator Amidala for this. You could blame the generous Senator and her even more generous friend, Senator Organa, for where you were. Well, where you were and where you were going to be in a half-an-hour.

You had objected at first, telling her that you were grateful for the kind offer, but Senator Amidala didn't seem to take no-thank-yous when it came to you.

"And come in gala-appropriate clothing. I will send you a dress, I just ask that you unwind from your duties for an evening. It's the least I can do after you've helped me for so long."

You tried to deny her offer, but when she slipped in the deal for a suit to be sent to you as well, perfectly fit for a certain tall Jedi, you let her offer break down the walls of your mind. You knew you shouldn't indulge in something like that, but it seems like you couldn't push her outstretched hand back. Especially when she cleared it with the council.

That's why you were here, in a dress that pressed snug to your skin, beautiful blue satin like the color of Anakin's lightsaber. And through his eyes, you were equally as hot as the blade. He had changed in the bedroom of your shared apartment, a crisp suit that reflected your dress.

Anakin knocked at the bathroom door respectively, waiting for your quiet "come in" before pushing the door open. You fixed the wide straps on your shoulders, moving them to where you thought they flattered your shoulders most before connecting eyes with your boyfriend. Though, it wasn't as much connecting as it was watching him internally outline your figure. Maybe it was the squeeze along your waist to the tops of your hips that made his gaze start to burn, or it was the way that the dress stopped accentuating your figure, flowing off the curve of your hips and pooling at the ground.

You watched his chest rise and fall, a stray hair slipping onto his forehead and tickling the scar over his eyebrow.

"Maker, how did I ever get so lucky," the jedi muttered, finally walking towards you with a plod to his steps, as if he was walking through swamp muck trying to get to you.

You smiled, cheeks heating with how his words nipped at your neck, the same as he wanted to so badly.

Anakin's hands fell to your waist, laying on a gentle touch that didn't seem like it came from him. Everything with Anakin was rough, he liked to admire through his fingertips, enjoying pulling and pushing. But in quiet moment, tender moment like these, he touched you with a softness that left you swooning for weeks.

You watched him through the reflection of your bodies, and he soon looked up to meet your stare. You smiled bashfully, his blue eyes melting you as he let his hands roam to your stomach, pulling you softly into him in Anakin fashion.

"I don't think I want to leave," Anakin spoke, moving your hair to kiss the skin behind your ear softly, "I think we should just stay here."

You teased, "Now why should we do that, Ani? You know, Senator Amidala has gone a long way convincing me to attend, it would be rude to bail so suddenly."

Anakin's forehead pressed to the side of your temple, lips close enough to your ears to head the tiniest of breaths from him.

"You look too good to leave. Just wanna bend you over and fuck the daylights out of you," he whispered, words sinking to the pit of your stomach and heating your core.

He bucked his hips into your ass, revealing the way his pants tented. You let out a choked whine, one of your hands grasping his wrist in an attempt to ground yourself. He had you wrapped around him finger and he knew it. But this wasn't an event that was easy to skip. Senator Amidala was looking forward to you being there. You and Anakin both.

"We can't Ani, I told her we would be there."

He sighed, thumb rubbing over the center of your stomach as if he was silently trying to coax you into changing your mind, being all soft with you.

You reached a hand up and raked fingers through his hair. He lifted his head from yours and glanced over the way he hovered above you, eyes shooting to his hands that touched you in such an intimate way, the way your lips were slightly parted as you focused your attention on him.

He was drowning in it.

"Alright, let's get out of here."

Anakin was being a gentleman tonight, opening the speeder door for you, resting his hand on your thigh as he drove. And he was patient this time, not reckless. Though his pinky was the opposite. It snuck into the slit on the left side of your dress.

He rested the tip of it as far up your inner thigh as he could, squeezing any moment that he thought was appropriate, sneaking looks at your face to catch the knitting of your eyebrows as you tried to ignore what he was doing to you.

The event already seemed too long and you hadn't even arrived. You thought this was gonna be easier with Anakin here, giving you someone you could genuinely talk to and trust with information. But it looked like Anakin was the worst person you could have every brought. You never realized how one dress could make him insatiable.

You adjusted your collar as you reached the large building, the inside of it decorated for the gala. You didn't know what the event was for, charity or just a general celebration of some sort, but Anakin walked in his usual arrogant way - strong steps, straight posture, broad shoulders. Maybe the image of him in a luxury attire made you a little hot as well, you were never used to seeing your boyfriend so put-together.

You stopped at small tables, checking out the forms that they held and listened to the kind person running them. It seemed to be a charity event, making you feel a little more comfortable with your surroundings.

There was soft music playing through speakers mounted on the ceilings and everyone wore smiles - some fake, but a lot being real, like they were happier than ever just to get word of their organization out into Coruscant.

Anakin must've relaxed, mirroring your mood as his back slouched the slightest bit and his steps became softer. His hand brushed your arm, knuckles trailing at the fabric that covered your hot skin. He wanted this to be a night where he could touch you freely, rest his hand on your lower back, kiss your hairline when he thought you looked too gorgeous not to touch.

But Anakin had his ways, ways to make you squirm, and ways to make you smile.

He snuck you around corners into empty halls of the building, pressing you tightly against him in a sloppy kiss, letting you feel the swell of him against his pants. And when the gala just started to get fogged over by his lips, you pushed at his chest in an attempt to keep you grounded. To keep you from getting caught with Anakin's crotch jutting against your hip.

"Ani, we can't," you whispered against his lips, the same ones that never seemed to get enough of your own, constantly hungry for the taste and the texture.

He huffed, nose pressing to your cheek as he rested against your face, "Yes we can, they won't even notice. C'mon angel.."

You pulled your face from his, making him only chase you. Pressing your hand to the base of your neck, your fingers pushes against the adam's apple in his throat till he finally pulled back enough to look at you.

For the first time in what felt like hours his hips weren't flush to yours and you could finally get a look at him, lips kissed a deep red and his hair tangled at the sides. His blazer was falling off one shoulder and eyes had a salacious look in them. Anakin had many times looked at you like this and begged with his body more than his words like this, but it just felt different now. He'd never tried this in public, certainly not with the clones around the corner or another Jedi within a good distance of you. Tonight felt risky, like he was throwing himself at the danger of being caught. You couldn't imagine what this would've been like if it were an important mission. Anakin had a brain to use, but right now, it was practically mush.

"We'll just get through this gala, alright. We can go talk to Senator Amidala and try to leave earlier than we planned to. We can't ditch this now though, she wants us here Ani."

Telling the tall Jedi no was like kicking a puppy, you adored him to the point where you almost broke at the look of him. His bottom lip pushed up at his top one, pouting at you, trying to change your mind. It hurt you to stand your ground to the man you loved. But it would hurt you more to break the Senator's promise.

Anakin leaned forward, trying to capture your lips again, but you held his shoulders.

"One more," he insisted, eyebrows shifting to a pouty expression. That, you couldn't say no to.

You let him kiss you, his lips moving eagerly with your own. But you stopped, breaking it before it got any more out of hand. You smiled with a softness, adjusting his appearance carefully, doing nothing about the way his red lips shined except pecking them to pull a smile to his face. There was absolutely no way you would be able to hide the way he looked at you and the swoon he held in his eyes, but you had hope nobody would catch it.

You expected the gala to be a lot more crowded than it was. Sure, there were people galore, but it was manageable for you and Anakin. Not many senators noticed you, out of your Jedi attire and prettied up for the event. You would never be able to disguise yourself enough to slip past Senator Amidala though - she could, and did, pick you out of a crowd.

"Jedi Knight L/n, it's great to see you," Amidala said, giving you a real smile before acknowledging Anakin with a "And Anakin."

You bowed your head, shaking her free hand that didn't hold a wine glass, "It's wonderful to see you finally, we're so glad we came."

By we, you meant you were. You were sure to assume Anakin wished to be... other places.

"I'm glad. There was actually something I have been meaning to speak to you both about," she started, swirling the small amount of liquid left in her wine glass around. Her eyes shifted down to it for a moment before coming back to yours, "I spoke to Master Yoda about it briefly, but I requested to speak to you both before I went through with it."

You nodded along, racking your brain for memories of missions that were to come for you. You surely were assigned to another, having been home in Coruscant for a week so far. When you let yourself take in the Senator, she looked almost nervous in a way, pinky finger tapping against the stem of the glass.

"Senator, excuse me for cutting you off, but would you like a refill? You look a bit shaken," you asked, giving her a look of understanding.

She nodded, "Please, this topic makes my stomach uneasy."

You smiled politely before taking her glass and weaving through he crowd with ease. You briefly wondered what would make someone like her nervous. But it made you nervous knowing the answer. It was no doubt that people wanted her blood spilled, and it seemed any time that her presence as a brave figure wavered was when there was a threat concerning her day to day life. One that told her that her actions were not the only things that people wanted stop. Her breathing was something that was desired to be halted as well.

You felt your shoulder catch on the shoulder of someone else in the vast crowd, making you stumble shortly. An arm reached out to your inner-elbow, catching you and keeping you on your feet.

Lifting your head to look at the kind soul to catch you, you connected eyes with a Kiffarian man, barely shorter than Anakin and decorated with gold tattoos. He wore a suit, short, curly hair sitting on top of his head and piercing grey eyes. He looked to be someone of importance, and you could tell why he would be. As his lips curled into a smile, you knew his exact job in politics. A gorgeous poster-boy.

"My apologies, I should have been paying attention to where I was walking," he said, only adding onto your assumption through his buttery accent.

You smiled, laughing softly, "It's alright, I was paying attention as much as you were."

He tilted his head down, hiding his teeth between a close-lipped smile. His hand stayed on you, letting off a bit of pressure through the apology, "I don't think we've ever met, can I have your name?"

"Y/n, what's yours?"

He huffed, "Yea'vett. You're not in a rush somewhere, are you?"

"I actually am," you referred to the empty wine glass you held in your grasp, shrugging off his hand. He let his arm fall to his side, the other coming up to adjust the collar of his suit.

His eyebrows almost seemed to downturn at your answer, his shoulders seeming to tense in a way that they weren't before, "Well, that's just disappointing, isn't it?"

You let your teeth peek out of your smile before he politely directed you to where the drink table was, holding his hand lightly on the fabric between your shoulder blades. After explaining that the glass was not your own and that you had to return to an important discussion, he left you to filling it up.

You quietly went about your careful business, almost groaning when a presence resumed itself back inside of your personal bubble. Turning your head, you were wholly expecting the gorgeous poster-boy to be watching you with the same stormy eyes he had been previously. But now, you were looking up into a different kind of storm.

The storm that you brought with you.

"Who was that?" Anakin asked, his voice stiff with agitation. His jaw was clenched when it closed, and his brow was creased. You swore in these moments his scar opened again, every time it was angry, it seemed to glare at you with the same red that Anakin's temper flared with. His whole stature was off, hands clenched into fists like it was a reflex to the situation. Somewhere in you had to admit that a piece of your heart went out to him when he was angry like this. More than of a piece of your body too.

You rolled your eyes at his tone, pressing a hand to his palm to try and soak some of the anger out of him, but with his eyes glued to yours, it seemed that your soft gesture did nothing to ease up his attitude.

"We bumped into each other and he ended up apologizing to me, that's all," you explained, letting your thumb rub over the cloth of his tie, pulling it through your finger till it reached the end and slipping from underneath your touch.

Anakin leaned closer into you as your knuckles rested against the center of his abdomen. "He was awfully close for an apology," Anakin spit out under his breath, lips pursed after his words were left free. His hand nearest to the table reached up to hold your waist, his thumb pressing into your skin hard as he pulled you closer to his body.

"He was just trying to be nice Anakin, leave it. We can discuss this after the gala," you dismissed the conversation, making Anakin's nose twice in response. You knew he didn't want to leave it, maker, Anakin didn't want to even be here. He was ready to go home and take you apart the way he'd been waiting to do since you left.

This only added fuel to the fire.

You could have been smarter, knowing Anakin's now shortened temper, but he knew you were right. You sometimes wondered how Obi-Wan wasn't scolded for the temper of his former padawan - a Jedi wasn't meant to feel such strong, negative emotions. Maybe you didn't have all the room to talk though, not when he had a strong hold on your heart.

You didn't wait for a response from Anakin, turning to continue back through the crowd. He followed you without word, but you could still feel the tension that didn't drift through the air, but instead connected the two of you like handcuffs.

The conversation with Senator Amidala couldn't have taken longer. She expressed her worries, and the worries of her people as well. Her life was being threatened by an anonymous source and it was endangering those around her at the same time. She was sick of putting her girls' lives in danger for her to simply travel through Coruscant. Maybe a Jedi presence would change things, temporarily stunt the threat and keep her safe. She mentioned the time Anakin and Obi-Wan had helped her through the previous threats - she felt safe in the hands of the now Jedi-Knight that stood beside you, uncharacteristically silent.

You gave her few words back, choosing them carefully and finalizing the conversation with exchanged smiles and an agreement that you and Anakin would keep her safe, though the council would have to approve of her request to have the two of you as her protectors. Times were tough, and availability was tight, you wished more than anything to have the Senator comfortable and safe under the eyes of you.

And Anakin wished nothing more than to get you out of your dress.

The whole conversation you could feel it, the burning gaze of his eyes and maker did you hope that the way he was staring at you was missed by the older woman. For the sake of you and the relationship you had grown with Ani, even if the Senator knew well before now.

And by the time it was finally over, Anakin pulled out a card I'd never seen him pull before. A petty lie, at that.

Anakin's right hand drifted to his back pocket, feeling for something and pretending it had all of his attention. And when he finally lifted his head from where it had tilted down, his hair brushed the sides of his cheeks and he cleared his throat, alerting the senator.

"I'm sorry about the short notice, but the council is ringing me. Can I excuse Y/n and myself?" he asked, giving Padme his best act you've ever seen, confident eyes staring straight into hers.

She nodded, holding up her glass and wishing the both of you well before Anakin took your hand and led you out into the hallway.

You weren't stupid; Anakin knew you weren't and knew that you had caught onto his lie. But, you wanted to play with it as he snuck you around a corner and up some stairs.

"Didn't the council excuse us for tonight?" you asked, reflecting his act.

He didn't answer your question immediately, instead waiting to see if there was anyone nearby. When he confirmed that you two were alone in the hallway, he dragged you into him hastily. His lips landed on yours, making you gasp out of shock. He had a hard grip on your arm as he kissed you, lips consuming your own.

The kiss wasn't long, it was just enough for him to get you back in that needy state he had you in earlier with your lips parted and your head faintly dizzy. Except this time, you had completed what you had came here for. Anakin pulled away, looking at you with eyes that bore their way under your skin and stayed there.

"I excused us for tonight," he said through teeth that were pushed together, "What was you friend's name again?"

You thought for a moment, evaluating your choice of words. You could be easy, give him what he wants, feed into his desire. Or you could challenge him. And you thought that Anakin deserved a challenge, even if it was a simple one that could be ignored by the naked eye.

"His name is Yea'vett. He was just trying to be nice," you argued.

Anakin smiled at you, teeth pale and incisors sharp, "You know I don't like people touching what's mine."

"Would you have rather had me fall?"

"I would have rather have not been here in the first place. I would rather have you split open on my cock right now than be here," his hand placed itself on the back of your neck, fingers wrapping around and heavily pressing to the sides of your throat, "I'm gonna fuck you so hard you'll forget his name."

Your breath went shallow at his words, losing strength in your legs as they felt like they were gonna wobble out from under you like an unsteady stool. His touch was poisonous, sending venom through your veins and making you feel weak.

Anakin smiled wider, soaking in the way that your eyes had softened and your gaze had turned into a desperate one. You eyelids were drifting down and your pupils were full, he knew that look anywhere, it was the same look you gave him when he was stuffed to the hilt in you.

"You wanna go home angel?" he asked, forehead pressed against yours.

You nodded, waiting for his move as he guided you back down the stairs and to the entrance that you had came in through. You didn't care about the way you trailed behind Anakin like a lost puppy dog, so close you almost stepped on his heels multiple times. Anticipation was heavier than the weight of certain stares right now, you'd take any questions tomorrow.

The street lighting that greeted you when you stepped back out into coruscant made your heart thrum. Your apartment was close, only a few minutes a way. A few long minutes that you knew Anakin was about to hate, with an impatient grip on the wheel. Leaving behind his gentleman way, he left you to your own devices of opening your door, which you did without thinking twice of it.

It would've been awkward if you hadn't loved each other long, the way you stared out the open roof to all the buildings and nightmarish traffic lanes. Anakin knew your distraction and found it amusing at times, knowing that underneath the face you held was someone who would be taking him like a whore in mere minutes.

Like you were trained for this exact procedure, you hopped out of the speeder the moment it parked itself. Anakin hadn't even pulled his hands off the wheel before you were running to the apartment entrance and sending him a glance over your shoulder to make sure he was still following.

Anakin smiled, running to catch up to you and trailed as you stepped through the glass doors, flashed the droid at the front desk a smile and hopped into the vacant elevator.

Pressing your floor number, it didn't take long for the doors to shut and Anakin's hunger to grow. He pulled you into him to press your hips to his. You could feel his hard crotch bear down on your pelvis, alerting you to how hard Anakin really was. Maybe you should've been grateful for the low time that Anakin allowed you two at the gala - you were lucky you were even there for over half an hour.

"Maker, I get so hard when I'm around you," Anakin groaned with his head crowding itself in the crook of your neck. His lips found their way to your skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses against it, leading pleasure through your body.

You held his waist, "I hope you understand that's not always a good thing."

Anakin ran the sharp of his teeth along the side of your neck before ending with a sloppy kiss at the base, sucking a red mark onto your skin. Your hips squirmed, making him only respond with a harsher suck.

Anakin pulled his head back the slightest to make eye contact with you, "You're telling me you don't love it when I take you home from these stupid public events and poun-"

The door opened and you practically jumped out of Anakin's arms. You needed to get home, speeding off down the hall as fast as you could in your cramped heels. Hallways were mostly vacant at these hours, those that weren't home wouldn't be home till late in the night and others were home and settling into bed - it made you feel somewhat bad for the running Anakin was doing with his unusually stomping feet.

You punched in the code for your apartment, entering before the door had fully opened. Anakin stepped in behind you and closed the door before snatching you by your waist. He held you with one arm, your back to his chest and the pounding of your heart bouncing off the walls. You giggled, hand holding onto him as he carried you off to your shared bedroom.

Anakin dropped you down on the soft sheets of your bed, your body falling onto your stomach with a bounce. A smile was spread over your lips at the moment, but when you turned to see Anakin, he looked anything but smiley. Maybe through his eyes, you could see the sparkle that told you he was helplessly in love with you, but his eyebrows were tensed ever so slightly and his mouth curved down, the cleft of his chin more visible.

Staring over you, eyes dragging over the inches of your dress with precision all the way to the heels on your feet. Anakin kneeled down at the edge of the bed, only one knee to the plush mattress, and he removed your heels with a gentle pull. It came off and he placed it on the floor, grabbing your legs and lifting it to press a kiss to your ankle.

You held your breath, the moment seemed so out of place for his behavior, almost as if it was made to distract you from why he dragged you out of the gala so promptly. You watched him kiss his way up your leg, stopping where the end of your skirt had folded up when you were dropped. Leaning away, he released your leg to only grab your other and address it the same way he had the first. Only this time, he didn't stop at the hem of your skirt.

Anakin moved up your body, lips ceasing their kisses but his eyes never stopped burning through the fabric of your dress. Like blaster bolts, you could feel them pierce into your skin with deadly precision. You never doubted that he had the mapping of your body memorized, not when looked at you like that while you were clothed.

His hands found their way to your back, spanning over the muscles and pressing you into the bed as he leaned his head down to your ear, "I want you all to myself."

"You have me all to yourself," you whispered back to him, leaning your head to the side, cheek pressing to the mattress.

Clever fingers found their way to the zipper of your dress and pulled it down. You could almost feel some weight drift off your shoulders as the cold air hit the skin along your spine, "I mean I don't want anyone else looking at you the way I'm allowed to. You're mine, and I want everyone to know that. You are mine."

The next moments were a head-dizzying contrast to when he was removing your heels. His hands pushed their way under the fabric of your dress and removed it, pulling it off of you in a hurry and allowing it to hang chaotically off the side of the bed in a mess of blue. Your bra was unclasped closely after without second thought and was tugged from your body, returning to it's place with your dress.

Anakin flipped your body over and watched the fat of your breasts bounce at the movement. He took a step back, standing at the foot of the bed before his hands reached to your hips and latched on. Tugging you to the edge, he pressed your clothed core against the crotch of his pants. A whine left your mouth at the sight in front of you. All of Anakin's clothes were still on, his blazer haphazardly thrown on the ground, which must've came off in a flurry of your undressing. He looked disheveled, lips red and raw, his button down crooked on his torso with half a side pulled out from where it was tucked into his pants. You'd never seen his hair so messy and you never thought a mess could be so beautiful.

"You feel that, angel?" Anakin ground his hard-on against your body, "You feel how fucking hard I am for you?"

You nodded, biting down on your lip in an effort to ground yourself to the world around you, something that the turbulent lighting of Coruscant couldn't accomplish. Anakin's grip on your hips tightened and he tugged your body against his, prominent hard-on pushing against his tight pants and pressing into you.

"Use your words, I wanna hear you say it."

You breathed shallowly, "I feel how hard you are. Ani..."

Anakin moved and hand up to caress your face with a sweet rub of his thumb, "What baby, what do you need?"

You grinded your hips against the swell of his cock through his pants, but Anakin was quick to put you in your place as he tightened his grip on your hips, pressing his own down, sandwiching you between him and the bed. His head hung above yours, his mess of hair tickling your forehead in a silly manner.

It all felt unfair, the way he tried to contain your reach for your own pleasure, and you wished you could hate him for it. But in this moment, you depended on him to soften up and deliver you the pleasure your body begged for.

"I need you, Ani. I wanna feel good, only you can make me feel good."

Anakin bumped his forehead gently against yours, "You know that's not what I'm looking for, angel."

You could feeling his breath lingering with your own, creating the same feeling throughout your body that you felt when you would make out with him. The thought alone had you on a high and made you lunge up, attempting to connect your lips with his. But, as quick as the thought crossed you mind, it was shut down by Anakin's hand leaving your waist and wrapping around the base of your throat, pushing you lightly back to the bed. You whined, knowing that you were running out of ways to escape his hold.

The whine from you made Anakin laugh, "Eager girl."

The comment made your cheeks flush and made you more aware of the hand that pressed to your neck like a shackle. You let out a shaky breath, "Please fuck me, I need you to touch me, kiss me, fuck me, anything, please!"

The way you begged made Anakin's cock twitch in his pants, pulling a groan from his lips and setting it free into the air. He took his hand away from your throat, moving it to his waistband and unbuttoned his pants with one, skillful hand. Excitement spiked through you, sending you to pull yourself up to reach your hand under the fabric of his button-down that was tucked into his pants. Your fingers wrapped around the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down along with his pants till they rested on the crest of his thighs.

Anakin let you, watching closely while biting his lip at your once-over of his dick. You took ahold of it, pumping it and watching a bead of precum drool from the head. Straining your body forward, you gathered spit between your lips before letting it travel through the tight purse of them and fall to the blushing tip of his cock, sliding down and into your curled hand as you continued to jerk him off.

"Fuck, baby," Anakin moaned with a hand coming to hold your wrist, "I wanna give you what you were begging for."

Though disappointment flashed over your face in the form of a pout, you flopped your body back on the bed in content. You watched as your fully-clothed lover took himself into his own hands, letting out a quiet sigh from his chest and guiding himself to push aside the fabric of your panties.

"Are you gonna keep all your clothes on, big boy?" You teased with a smile. The head of his cock ran through the soaking slit of your pussy, collecting it's lubrication.

He looked up from where he was gazing at your sex, connecting your eyes with his. The look he gave you was almost a warning, telling you that you should really keep your mouth shut, little quips not being one of the things he wanted to hear out of you. "I need to have you, I'm not wasting time."

You spoke before you could bite your tongue, "You were fine with wasting your time earlier."

You allowed a smirk to creep onto your face, but it was soon swept off in the tidal wave of euphoria. The blunt head of Anakin's length pushed itself into you, creating a stretch like no other, one that sent your jaw dropping and your eyebrows creeping together. You and Anakin surely didn't abstain, but he always gave you the same stretch every time he slipped into you. It left your core tightening and your body feeling heavy.

The way Anakin held you, his other hand returning to it's rightful place on your hip, sent your head careening backward into the soft bed. The pressure of his fingers made you feel small in a way, man-handling you like he would picking up a doll. You tried to see the way he pushed into you, but you settled for looking up at his smug expression that told you he was splitting you in half. Whatever power he held over you, it melted your brain in the most humiliating way - Anakin seemed to adore it.

"Yeah? You like that cock, huh brat? Shuts you right up, doesn't it?" he said, spitting acid into your veins, melting your muscles and refusing them to be in your own control.

You tasted blood as your teeth finally pricked your lip - Anakin slid into you, slow and delicious, just like the breaths that he took which fanned on your face sweetly. His hair hung like messy vines above you and his eyes were barely visible; blue peaking through the waves. But his smile, the one he barely could keep as you sucked him in, shone like a star over the ocean at night. The grip his fingers had on your body contoured his hand and sent shivers up your spine and into your neck where the after-shock made you choke out a silky moan.

Anakin leaned forward, pressing his nose into yours as he consumed the breaths you took, "You look so beautiful when my dick's in you. Almost like you belong like this, right here soaking me." A deep laugh accompanied his words, kissing your lips deeply.

Welcoming his mouth against yours, you made out with a deep passion that you've never felt from anyone but Anakin. And you thought for a moment, that maybe that's why you were wholly his and he yours, the way you two connected like lost puzzle pieces was like none other.

You gasped into his mouth, walls stuttering around him. The way you tightened dragged a moan from him. You could feel every vein of his cock press into you as he let you take him slowly. He knew you could though, he's bent you in half like a folding chair before and made you take him. But like this, when things were so slow you felt the world had gone cold, you could feel the pop of the head into you, could feel the curve of his dick. If you concentrated hard enough, you could swear you felt yourself gushing around him.

You let your hands reach up to hold his face sweetly, thumbs settling on his cheekbones as your lips wrapped around his bottom one before restarting their tasting of his mouth. You felt heat rush to your core when Anakin bottomed inside of you, hitting something deep. He pulled away from the sloppy kiss, planting a peck to yours before recoiled his hips, pushing back against yours torturously.

A whine left you, sounding oddly familiar to his name. You played this same game time and time again where, in his possessive attitudes, he'd try to coax his name out of your lips. And you knew he was pushing for it harder tonight.

Anakin set a steady pace, his hips beating against yours with slow, deep thrusts that sent your eyes rolling back and your body shivering. Your hands moved to the back of his neck, holding his head close to yours and grounding you from the way his cock fucked into your spongy cunt, looking for the spot that made you tear up.

His one thumb teased over your hip bone, the only gentle thing about the way you were positioned. The lewd noises of slapping skin and your soaking cunt bounced off the walls, making your ears hot. Your body reacted to him like a faucet that you couldn't turn off. But fuck, you wouldn't anyways, not when he was shoving himself balls deep inside of you, trying like hell to hit something deep.

"He could never know your body like I do, nobody could," Anakin growled, "That's cause you're mine. Nobody could know the way that you love being fucked like a whore, nobody could know the way you shut up as soon as you get my fat cock in you. You take it so good, don't you angel? You take it so fucking good."

You moaned at his words, loud and unrestrained from where you were before. You settled on training your eyes on his as he pummeled you with his strong hips, sturdy thighs smacking against your ass. You would most definitely be sore in the morning, and you could count on bruises blooming at your hip-bones.

"So good Ani... only you, fuck- only you!"

Anakin planted another sweet kiss to your lips, smiling, "That's right, only me. I get to fuck you, and pump you full, and hold you every night because you're mine. Nobody deserves you, maker- I don't deserve you. But I'd be damned if I didn't fuck you like I do."

Anakin's hips sped, the thrusts barely changing the way they shook your body and melted your brain. You couldn't ignore the way your stomach tightened and the fuzziness in your head distorted the way moans flew off your tongue.

"Anakin... fuck- Ani, I'm close," you whined, nose pushing against his.

Anakin pulled away from your face momentarily, a hand falling lower to guide his thumb to your clit. Your body tensed, waves off pleasure shooting through you. A little more.

Anakin gave up any softness, hips fucking you into the mattress, pushing calls of his name out of your mouth, "Yeah? Come on baby, cum for me, wanna feel you cum on my cock."

You felt him strike a spot inside of you that moved you to grip his hair, tugging his head back. Your fingers pulling at the strands only parting his lips and spurring on his rough movements. His pelvis occasionally pushing his thumb hard into your clit, sending sparks through you that electrified your nerves.

"Maker... Ani, holy fuck- Ani-" your words almost felt pushed out of your chest. It was as if he was trying to hammer a nail into the wall, and he was denting the wall. Your knees locked around his waist and your legs wrapped around him, heels digging into his back as the band inside of you snapped. A hot white flashed across your body, making your limbs lock and stutter, eyes closed and mouth open.

"Your pussy gets so wet when you cum- fucking squeezing me," he grunted, his pace turning sloppy and losing it's previous rhythm.

Anakin threw his head into your neck, resting his face into the crook as he let out a strangled moan, hips bucking to bottom out inside of you. Hot ropes of cum coated your walls, spreading a familiar warmth through your body. Your lover's cool panting contrasted the warmth, sending a shiver up your spine.

He came down, falling limp against you. A smile formed on his face, one that pressed into the skin of your neck. Relaxing muscles made him lay on you with his hands releasing their pressure and his legs shifting slighting. You wrapped your arms around his torso to hold him to you, a smile flashing across your face as well.

You squeezed around him, making him moan and curse into your shoulder, "Don't."

You giggled, only earning a huff from him. Your hands traveled to his dress shirt, moving the fabric up and trying to get it off. Anakin moved without a word, lifting his arms and letting you remove it from his sweaty body. It would have to be washed, but you didn't really mind.

"Here, let me-" Anakin pulled himself out of your slowly, pulling a softer noise from your throat. A warmth crackled through his body, watching his spend drip out of you like syrup. Your cheeks flushed finally, feeling shy even though you had imprinted kisses on your shoulder to prove you weren't as innocent as you felt in that moment.

Clothes were tossed in the same pile as your dress, creating a messy pile of elegant clothes, ones that belonged in displays, not on hard-wood floors. With you scooting up the bed, Anakin had disappeared into the bathroom and coming back with a damp cloth.

Climbing over you, he placed a heavy hand on your pelvis and cleaned you gently, though overstimulated sighs didn't fail to leave your lips. He bothered to set that in the laundry bin next to your closet, finding himself back to the bed quickly.

Anakin laid down beside you, bouncing as he let his back fall. His arms scooped you up and held you against him. A hand came to hold your back while the one not tucked under you was tracing circles into his hard chest.

"You know that I love you, right? I don't want anyone else," you finally spoke, looking up at his face through the dim lighting of the room none of you bothered to do anything about.

A wide grin spread on his face, "I know, I just like teasing you."

•--•

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