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kinktober 2025

Summary:

in the mood for freak

Notes:

every chapter title will have the main kink and the couple if it's not obikin, and the individual chapter summaries give a few more details

Chapter 1: stepbrothers

Summary:

modern au, underage anakin

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Up in the Sky" by Oasis is blaring through the speakers in Obi-Wan's room, and Anakin wants to bang his head against his desk. The one time when he's actually somewhat motivated to stay up late for school work and not for other, much more fun nighttime activities has to be the evening when he decides to play his new vinyl. Obi-Wan is home for Thanksgiving, a few days of freedom from grad school, and Qui-Gon, his biological and Anakin's stepfather, seems to have decided that Obi-Wan can enjoy all the leniency in the world.

Anakin briefly considers knocking against the wall to get him to turn the music down, but he knows that, for one, Obi-Wan probably wouldn't hear him, and two, would care even less. Add to that the fact that they're home alone tonight, and Anakin can't see any other way out than to simply endure it.

To be fair, it could be worse. Obi-Wan might have decided to put on Black Sabbath or one of the albums in Qui-Gon's collection, most likely some psychedelic shit he hasn't listened to since the sixties. Shmi's contribution to the family library had been small but tasteful, lots of classical and even an opera recording or two. Anakin groans but a few minutes later, when the record transitions into "Slide Away", he can't help but tap his feet in time with the beat. It's catchy.

I don't know, I don't care, all I know is you can take me there, he hears Obi-Wan sing along, and despite it all, Anakin smiles. He has a great voice, even though Anakin would never admit he thinks so.

Suddenly, the song stops, and Anakin listens carefully as the door to Obi-Wan's room opens, then slams shut. Footsteps along the hallway, down the stairs, and it's only now that Anakin realizes that the phone is ringing.

He opens his own door as quietly as he can, just in time to hear Obi-Wan say, "I told you not to call this number, I have my own phone upstairs." He sounds annoyed and the next thing he says is muffled, hard to make out. A bitter laugh from Obi-Wan, then a disbelieving "What?", followed by a long stretch of silence. Anakin holds his breath and somehow just knows that something important is happening.

"Okay, fuck you then," Obi-Wan bites out, and Anakin swallows, shocked at the venom in his voice. The receiver slams down and Obi-Wan comes back up the stairs. Anakin is a millisecond too slow; the next thing he hears is, "Anakin?" before Obi-Wan pushes his door open.

"Yeah?" he replies, trying and failing to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"Were you listening to that?"

"No."

Obi-Wan narrows his eyes at him. He's twenty five, ten years older than Anakin, but still a little soft around the edges. Sure, he works out and is reasonably vain about his general appearance, but tonight, at home, he looks younger, despite the annoyance in his face.

"I know you're lying," he says.

"So you can read minds now?"

"Yours is easy." He lets himself fall into Anakin's bean bag and leans into the soft material. Anakin watches for a moment as he kneads his fingers into it, tears his eyes away only in time to see Obi-Wan studying him.

"What?" Anakin asks again.

"That was Maul on the phone just now."

"Are you serious?" Maul (some stupid nickname for a boy Obi-Wan went to school with) had recently been sentenced to five years in prison for armed robbery. "What the fuck, how did he manage to call you?"

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow. "I like how you went to 'how' instead of 'why' first. And honestly, I'm not sure, but I guess they can't take away all your rights."

"He's creepy," Anakin says without thinking. A fierce blush burns up his face when Obi-Wan laughs.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll protect you if he comes climbing through your window." When Anakin doesn't reply, Obi-Wan nudges his desk chair with one foot. "Seriously. You don't need to worry about him. His lawyer probably arranged for him to let him call me."

"But why you?" Anakin asks in a childish voice.

Now it's Obi-Wan's turn not to look him in the face. His stepbrother is rarely embarrassed, but Anakin must have struck a nerve.

"Who cares, we were friends ages ago. He thought I'd be able to make his little stay a bit nicer I guess."

Anakin immediately thinks of Obi-Wan being forced to smuggle drugs or porn magazines to Maul, and his stomach clenches, less at the implication that Obi-Wan is probably very knowledgeable about these things than at the sense of danger he's always felt around Maul.

Before he can say anything, Obi-Wan goes on, "But of course it could be difficult getting someone to suck you off during visiting hours."

Anakin stares at him, his mouth hanging slightly open. He's always known that Obi-Wan isn't shy about what he likes, but hearing him speak about this so outright, even if it's about someone else's possible desire, feels like a punch to the gut. Blood rushes from his head down, down, down until he feels himself growing hard in his pyjama shorts imagining Obi-Wan on his knees in front of a faceless man in a dark room.

In the silence that falls between them, Obi-Wan's face changes. Something like curiosity takes over his features, and he shifts in his seat, the bean bag rustling beneath his weight.

"Are you all right?" he asks in a tone that Anakin can't place. He simply nods. All his attention is on how bright Obi-Wan's eyes are, and how the dim light in the room makes his hair look a deeper shade of auburn than usual. It's long, almost past his shoulders, and suddenly Anakin needs to reach out and touch it.

He leans forward, but all this does is press his thighs together against his cock in a way that makes him gasp.

"Oh," is all Obi-Wan says. He grabs hold of Anakin's hand in midair, gets out of the bean bag with more grace than should be possible, and does what Anakin has wanted him to do for months now if he cares to admit it. Kneeling on the floor between his legs, Obi-Wan palms Anakin through the fabric of his shorts, humming to himself when Anakin whimpers above him.

"Go on," Obi-Wan murmurs, and Anakin finally slides his hands into Obi-Wan's hair at the same time as his stepbrother shoves the flimsy pair of shorts down Anakin's legs.

"Oh," Anakin says in his turn, and feels Obi-Wan grin against his skin.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are as always very much appreciated. Say hi or send a prompt on tumblr!

Chapter 2: humiliation

Summary:

bottom obi-wan, free use (ish)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"General Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan doesn't reply immediately, though he heard Cody just fine. His voice seems far away, not really a part of reality. He blinks, wades out of his reverie and says, "Yes?"

Cody clears his throat. "I was wondering when we might expect General Skywalker and his troops," he says, matter-of-factly. He's always so professional; the exact opposite of what Obi-Wan is feeling right now.

"Two hours, maybe," he says, and flinches. Two more hours of him having to sit around this ship, a buttplug in his hole keeping Anakin's come from this morning inside him.

Take it out before I get back, and I'll fill you right back up in front of your men, Anakin had whispered in his ear before he left for a short recon flight. As much as Obi-Wan hates to admit it, he thought about it. But there was, as always, the possibility of pleasing Anakin for once, and whenever he managed to do that, he knew to expect the best of him. Anakin's undivided attention, paired with the right mood, was always like the sun coming out again after a thunderstorm.

So he makes a promise with himself to obey and waits, every movement reminding him where and to whom he belongs.


The clones are singing a botched-up version of 'Sugaan Essena', their stomping and clapping making Obi-Wan's head ache. He tries to smile as Anakin joins them for the chorus, his voice going comically overboard, completely without rhythm.

Everything during the mission went according to plan, and Obi-Wan kept his word. He shifts in his seat, the pressure around the plug lessening for a second before it starts up again as soon as he leans just a bit too far back.

"Sir, are you all right?" He doesn't know the name of the soldier sitting next to him. He's one of Anakin's, a new recruit.

"I'm fine, thanks," he says unconvincingly. As if this is his cue, Anakin makes his way over to them.

"Having fun?" he slurs, plopping down onto Obi-Wan's thigh. His hands come to rest on Anakin's hips out of instinct, to keep him from falling.

"What do you think?"

Anakin peers at him. His cheeks are flushed, but there is a dangerous glint in his eyes that tells Obi-Wan to keep his guard up.

"You look like you could loosen up a little," he says in a low voice. Heat spreads all the way from Obi-Wan's chest, up to his face and down into his stomach. "Wouldn't you agree?"

He tries to respond, but his mouth is dry as sand. Grinning, Anakin reaches between his legs and gropes around until he holds Obi-Wan's cock firmly in one hand. A sharp hiss escapes Obi-Wan, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees the clone get up and leave.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan says weakly.

"What? You were so good at following my orders today that you deserve a special treat, Master."

The title feels like a slap to the face in this situation, but Obi-Wan still can't help it; he bucks in Anakin's grip, forehead coming to rest on his shoulder. The distraction is working, because he realizes a beat too late what Anakin has in mind.

"Not here?" he practically begs.

"Right here," comes the sly answer, Anakin's smile all teeth. He pushes his hand into Obi-Wan's robes, ignoring his erection, and goes for the plug. But before he pulls it out, he prods it with a finger, fucking up into Obi-Wan, who bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from making a sound.

"Such a good hole, keeping my come up there all this time," Anakin praises, his free hand roaming over Obi-Wan's chest. He pinches one nipple through his tunic, rolls it between his fingers until Obi-Wan gasps. He's suddenly aware of how quiet the room has gone. The singing stopped, and whatever low murmurs there are make him screw his eyes shut in humiliation.

"Don't you want to put on a little show, Master? To prove to me that you know your place?"

He feels Anakin against his thigh, already so hard. But something tells Obi-Wan that it would be too boring for him to fuck his Master in front of the others. Confirmation of that thought comes a second later. Anakin gets up and palms his own cock against his trousers, then leans down again.

"Bend over," he murmurs in his ear, his breath hot against Obi-Wan's skin. He swallows but does as he's told, rests his forearms on the table next to his seat. The only advantage is that he can't look at the men anymore. A small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

Anakin starts by massaging his ass through the robes, his broad palms kneading the flesh, thumbs digging into the muscle. The plug threatens to slip out of him, and Obi-Wan clenches reflexively.

"Can't you hold still, Master? Or does your dirty fuckhole need attention so badly?"

Obi-Wan shivers, hangs his head. He's leaking inside his robes, but he can't tell from this angle if it's visible to Anakin as well.

"You fucking slut. I think we can do something about that, though." And with that, Anakin shoves his tabards up, yanks his trousers down next. Cold air hits Obi-Wan's skin, and he hears a murmur go through the others at the sight of General Kenobi, exposed like a common whore.

Anakin draws his thumb down between his cheeks, over the plug, then lower until he squeezes his balls. "You're so ready for me, aren't you? Look at how tight you are, and how messy you got just from this." He taps Obi-Wan's cock as if he's swatting away an insect, and Obi-Wan keens.

"Kano," Anakin calls out, "come here. Give me a hand, will you?"

And finally, Anakin removes the plug from Obi-Wan's ass, relieving the pressure of the last few hours. He winces at the sudden feeling of emptiness, but Anakin doesn't let him up for long. He slaps his cheeks, twice, before spreading him apart with both hands.

"Have you ever seen a hole so ready to be used?" he asks, and Obi-Wan's heart begins to hammer painfully against his chest. Spit lands on him, and then Anakin pats his rim, holding him open and on display for Kano and everyone else to see. He leaks more precome onto his clothes on the floor, and hears a laugh from one of the clones.

"Go on," Anakin says, "I know you want to try what I get to have every time I want it."

"Can I fuck him?" Kano asks, almost reverently.

A low chuckle. "Don't get ahead of yourself," Anakin says. "Just play with him a little, and I'll take care of the rest."


"Now, Master," Anakin pants in his ear from behind, "can you be a good slut and come on my cock in front of them?"

Obi-Wan is leaning back on Anakin's lap, his red cock slapping against his stomach with every move Anakin makes underneath him. He's naked, but Anakin refused to even take off his own trousers. Spread out like this, everyone has a prime view of his hole filled up with Anakin's cock, pumping into him lazily. Obi-Wan is completely spaced out, his breaths coming in low exhales and sharp intakes, after being fondled and slapped around and groped by at least ten different clones.

"Please," he manages to say in response, and Anakin grabs his cock, strokes him in time with his thrusts.

"Your cock is so pretty when it's abused like that, Obi-Wan. I think next time I will let Kano have a go at you. I'd love to watch you get fucked by him, stuffed full and leaking all over yourself. But maybe you'd prefer Cody? Or how about both at the same time? One for your ass, and one for your mouth?"

"N-no," Obi-Wan forces out through clenched teeth.

"Really?" Anakin exaggerates his surprise. "Well, so you do know where your hole belongs. Right—" A sharp thrust against his prostate, "here."

And with an embarrassing cry, Obi-Wan comes all over Anakin's fist, feeling too weak to care about the clones anymore. The sun can warm. But usually it burns.

Notes:

This was one of my favorites to write <3 Thanks for reading, comments and kudos are as always very much appreciated. Say hi or send a prompt on tumblr!

Chapter 3: wound eroticization

Summary:

what it says on the tin + masturbation

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Later, Obi-Wan knows, he will remember everything that happened on Devaron in flashing bits and pieces. The difficult landing, Governor Findar and her suspicious looks that they pretended not to notice. The jungle and the invasive, musty smell of the trees all around them.

"This place is awful," Anakin said, and Obi-Wan could only nod. Something was off here, and he made it part of the mission to find out what it was.

Now he wishes he hadn't been so curious.

Anakin is lying in one of the too small beds in medica, his right arm in a corrective brace that makes Obi-Wan think of a rancor's jaws clamped around his flesh. If he's still in pain, his face doesn't show it. But Obi-Wan feels his overall discomfort, like a pulse in the Force that pounds half-heartedly alongside both their signatures.

Leaning back in the chair by the bed, Obi-Wan allows himself to close his eyes for just a moment. They're alone in the room, the other three cots empty and sterile looking. It had all happened so fast; one moment, they were trudging along a barely visible path, the next Anakin was clutching his arm to his side, a scream torn out of him that had made Obi-Wan's heart seize in his chest.

He tries very hard not to think too much about that sound. Even now, days later, he still isn't completely sure that it really was Anakin that had produced it. He sounded like an animal, and Obi-Wan felt like one when he realized what that cry had done to him, how it had forced his mind into action only after it had sent a violent shiver of something else down his spine, something that wasn't fear or concern.

Obi-Wan remembers the blood on his hands after he'd dragged Anakin back to the ship, the mission forgotten. The only thing he could focus on was the gash in Anakin's skin, visible beneath the torn layers of clothing, dripping red, slick and raw. He stares at his fingertips, and for an instant, he's sure there is still some under his nails, crusted and flaking, and he screws his eyes shut until he sees stars.

"What are you doing?" Anakin's voice is feeble, sluggish with the drugs they gave him as soon as they'd made it back to Coruscant. The med bay on their ship was small, ill-equipped, but Obi-Wan and R2 had done their best to patch him up with what little they had at their disposal.

"Anakin." Obi-Wan leans forward, relief flooding through him. He wants to reach out and touch his uninjured arm, his face, maybe his hair, but he stops himself before he can so much as raise his hand.

"Master?" he asks, his brows knitting together in confusion.

"Don't move," Obi-Wan says quickly. "You hurt your arm and your left side. We still don't fully know what happened"

Anakin seems to mull this over for a moment, then his free hand drags his undershirt up to reveal a red gash along one of his ribs, which still looks vicious even though it's halfway on its way to being healed.

"Oh," he says, and has the nerve to sound surprised. Before Obi-Wan can interject, he touches the bruise, probing it until he hisses in a sharp breath.

"Stop that," Obi-Wan snaps, and this time he doesn't hesitate before swatting Anakin's hand away. His skin is cold, a rarity, but the cut feels too hot under Obi-Wan's fingers, and he flinches when his brain catches up to his senses and he realizes that now it's him lingering over the wound.

They've done all sorts of things to each other already that would make the rest of the Council see red; but this, Obi-Wan feels, is different.

Anakin lets out a shaky exhale when Obi-Wan splays his fingers over his skin, almost protectively. Possessively, is the word that comes to his mind a second later. He flushes with a mixture of embarrassment and something warmer still, but doesn't pull away.

"Master," Anakin says again, softly, and places his hand on top of Obi-Wan's. They both hold their breaths as Anakin presses down, and then a small moan escapes Anakin, the sound enough to make all the blood rush down from Obi-Wan's head.

"Does it hurt?" he asks stupidly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Yes," Anakin manages, then, "No, I—it feels good."

"It does?" His thumb strokes along the edge of the cut, and Anakin's palm begins to sweat.

"Don't stop," Anakin says in lieu of an answer, his eyes rolling back in his head.

He doesn't. Doesn't stop himself fingering Anakin's wound with his calloused hand, doesn't stop when a tear escapes Anakin's eye and vanishes into his hair. Neither does Anakin stop him when he leans down to kiss the warm patch of skin where healthy flesh meets red, when he opens his mouth against Anakin's rib in a perverse imitation of a bite, when his teeth find purchase and close.

Through the rush of blood in his ears, he barely notices the drops of it that run down his chin, warm and sweet like honey. Nor does he stop Anakin when he reaches beneath the covers to fist his cock, stroking it frantically while Obi-Wan tongues the red gash, kisses it as he would kiss Anakin's lips.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin chokes out as he comes, and allows himself to be cleaned up gently, all broad licks and careful fingers, when Obi-Wan finally tears himself away from his side.

Notes:

I think this is the closest I've ever come to writing a Hannibal/Obikin thing. Hope you enjoyed <3
Comments and kudos are as always very much appreciated. Say hi or send a prompt on tumblr!

Chapter 4: cbt (obileia)

Summary:

prompt by the lovely tori, thank you! context: obi-wan is training leia on tatooine, she knows that anakin/vader is her father and that he and obi-wan have a history (of freakiness lol)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

It starts out as a sparring session, nothing more, nothing less. Leia knows she's still too slow on the parry whenever Obi-Wan moves in from the left, and she knows that her footwork needs improvement.

"Again," Obi-Wan says when all it takes to break her stance is a light kick to her ankle. "Watch your lower defenses, Leia. If I can get at you so easily, imagine how many others will, too."

"I heard you the first time," she responds through gritted teeth. He draws back a step, brows furrowed.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," she says curtly, and raises the short staff she's using instead of a real lightsaber.

They circle each other for a second, two, three, before she goes in for the offense, ducking her head when he tries to land a blow to her shoulder. Suddenly there's an opening for her to move closer, a fraction of a second for her to swing the staff and—

"Force," Obi-Wan grunts at the impact, his free hand clutching his stomach.

Leia steps back lightly and smiles at her small triumph, but keeps her guard up in case he's feinting.

"How was that?" she asks when he looks up at her again. But his expression gives her pause, wipes the grin off her face immediately. "Obi-Wan?"

"Good job, Leia," he says, an edge to his voice that makes her swallow. "Let's get back to your other forms, all right?"

She nods, a little confused, and transitions into a new set that forces her into a tighter defense, giving her less of a chance to hit him again. But she almost manages to get one score in, her hands slippery on the wood of her staff, and she watches him watching her, his eyes tracking the movements of her feet in the sand.

After a pause, he goes in for a predictable opening, and she evades with ease, hooks her foot around his ankle and kicks his staff away when he lands on the ground, falling more clumsily than he taught her to do. She moves in immediately, holding what would be the blade of her saber against the side of his neck.

"How was that?"

"Not bad," he counters, and before she can hold out her hand to help him up it's him breaking her stance, knocking her wrist away at the same time as he brings her down with his own foot at the back of her knees.

She lands flat on her back, completely exposed, and before she can remember the proper way to get up and regain her bearings, he's suddenly on top of her, reaching for the staff that rolled out from between her fingers when she fell, and without thinking Leia slams her knee up, meaning to hit his stomach again.

She misses by a few inches, and he freezes above her.

"Fuck," she hisses, "I'm sorry Obi-Wan, that wasn't— I'm sorry."

But he doesn't admonish her, doesn't even say anything in fact. He just looks down at her, that shadow crossing his face again, but this time there's something else in his eyes as well, and Leia feels her cheeks burn and her heart start to beat almost painfully against her rib cage.

He's too close; she can almost feel his loose strands of hair against her own forehead. She tries to get her feet underneath her to get away from him, but this only results in her thigh pressing into his crotch again, and a shudder runs through her when she feels him half hard against her.

"Did I hurt you?" Leia asks. Reason and good sense leave her in a rush when she feels him shudder above her. "Do you want me to?" Her voice is tight with nerves. She shifts so that her knee is pressed firmly into him.

He shakes his head at the same time as he says, "Yes," or tries to. Then he sits back on his heels, leans against the nearest rock. Leia grabs hold of the staff again, moving on instinct. She crouches between his legs, fascinated.

She taps his cock with the staff, lightly, but even that gets her a reaction. She watches Obi-Wan swallow as if around a lump in his throat. His face is completely flushed, and he won't meet her eye.

"Look at me," she commands, and hits him again, harder. He groans but does as he's told. A jolt of desire runs through her entire body when she sees the tears in his eyes. Her cunt clenches around nothing as she inches closer, straddles his thigh so that she can put all of her weight onto his cock while getting some friction herself. She has imagined a moment like this so many times that her brain struggles to accept that this is real.

"Leia," he manages when she grabs him through his trousers, trapping his cock between her leg and his stomach, and fondles his balls. She watches the first tear fall with fascination, feels herself getting embarrassingly wet.

With an enormous effort of will she removes her knee, but not before grinding down one last time and as hard as she can. He groans and lets his head fall back, and this time she says nothing. Instead, she forces herself to get up, looks at the stain on his thigh. Her head spinning with arousal, she bends the staff back as far as the wood allows, and snaps it against him.

"How is that?" she whispers, and before he can reply she swings and hits his cock from above, sparing his balls, but the impact makes him whimper and draw his knees up, twisting slightly so that he's lying half on his side.

"No," she says, forces them apart so that she can stand between his legs. She steps onto his erection, her sole hardened from weeks spent training barefoot in the desert. A drop of sweat runs down her back when she feels how wet he is even through his trousers, and then she can't hold back anymore.

She feels like an animal as she drops down again, yanking his reddened cock out and squeezing as hard as she can. He's crying openly now, his face in the sand. The groan he lets out when she touches him fills her up like fresh air and she slaps him with the back of her hand, precome smearing the ground underneath him.

"Disgusting," she murmurs, and hits his balls with the staff again. Her aim is off, the only thing she can concentrate on the pulsing of need between her legs. "You're pathetic." A pause, the silence interrupted only by a moan escaping him. "I know what you're thinking right now, by the way."

He tries to speak, but the words get swallowed up by the sand.

"You're thinking about Anakin. Would he do this to you as well?" And to her utter amazement, he nods. "But he's not here. I am."

With that, she shoves him onto his back and straddles his erection, not even bothering to remove her own thin trousers, and rubs herself all over him, one hand reaching back to slap and pinch his balls. She's moving frantically, hitting the tip of his cock with the staff whenever she has enough room. Her own panting breaths are loud in her ears, and she's close, lets go of him when she feels her orgasm wrack through her.

"Leia," he finally says again, in a small voice that barely manages to get through to her.

She takes one look at his face, a mess of tears and sand and an expression she can't name. "Come," she says, and twists his cock with both hands, going in opposite directions.

She's feeling generous today.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are as always very much appreciated. Say hi or send a prompt on tumblr!

Chapter 5: pseudo-incest

Summary:

dddne, modern au, priest/sinner, mutual masturbation, ambiguously aged anakin

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The door of the confessional clicks shut with a small noise, and Obi-Wan knows who is sitting on the other side before Anakin can say the words, "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."

"Tell me about it, Anakin," he replies, avoiding the word 'son' for now, even though it hangs thick in the air between them. This isn't the first time they have gone through this little spiel, though until now, it remained innocent enough. Anakin usually talks about everything and nothing, admitting to shoplifting supplies for his little workshop or smoking during lunch break, but not much more.

Most of the indecency between them is firmly lodged in Obi-Wan's imagination.

"I've been thinking things I know I shouldn't." A pause. "And doing some of those things as well."

"Like what?" Obi-Wan figdets with the hem of his robe. He can hear Anakin draw in a deep breath on the other side of the partition, sees his shadow move from the corner of his eye.

"Last week, I touched myself every night before I went to sleep," Anakin says haltingly. "And I imagined someone else touching me."

"Who?" Obi-Wan forces out, feeling his cock stir.

"You. Only it wasn't really you." Anakin doesn't elaborate, but his voice is steady now. Obi-Wan closes his eyes at the rush of images that crop up in his head faster than he can stop them.

Click. He sees himself with Anakin sitting on his lap, Obi-Wan's erection pressed against his ass and his hand on Anakin's cock, fondling him gently.

Click. Now it's him on his knees, Anakin fucking his mouth.

Click. Anakin's face buried in his ass, holding Obi-Wan's head down and pushing him into a mattress.

"Father?"

Obi-Wan bites his lip to stop himself from moaning at the title. "You said it—wasn't really me?" he forces out. A small noise tells him that Anakin is shifting his weight on the other side of the grate.

"It was you, but you were also my father, I think," Anakin admits. "My real father," he adds, and Obi-Wan sees stars for a moment.

"How do you know that?" Anakin has never met his father; nobody knows if he's dead or just vanished off the face of the earth.

"You told me so."

He should stop this right now. Clutching his robe against his thigh, Obi-Wan forces himself to speak again, but what comes out is, "Go on." He hangs his head, presses one hand against his mouth as Anakin continues.

"I was lying in bed, and I was so tired, but every time I tried to sleep I'd just think about something that made me more and more awake. It was so boring and annoying, so I—well, I started to touch myself. And I remembered meeting you in the store the other day—" Obi-Wan's cheeks heat up at his casual tone, "so I just continued and pretended you were there with me."

Through a haze in his brain, Obi-Wan hears a light rustling on Anakin's side of the confessional.

"You were behind me, kind of spooning me, and you were hard. Like, really hard. And you couldn't stop touching me, my chest and my stomach, but not my cock. I begged and begged but you were just so stubborn, pushing against my ass and pinching my nipples, until I had to make you put your hand down my pajamas. And it felt so good because your hand was so big around me and you were finally doing what I wanted you to do."

When Anakin stops speaking for a moment Obi-Wan has to bite down on his hand to keep himself from making a noise. He palms his own cock and shudders, feels his nipples harden as he follows Anakin into this fantasy.

"I came so fast thinking about that," Anakin says, "but in the dream or whatever you didn't let go of me. I tried to push you away, but you kept on playing with my cock, telling me how nicely I had done this, and it got kind of uncomfortable. 'Stop that,' I said, but you didn't listen, and then you pushed my pants down and just rubbed your cock against me, over my hole and against my balls. You were wet and so warm, and I just wanted to leave to clean up, but you held me there and told me that you deserved it now that you'd made me come. 'Be a good boy now,' and 'Let me feel good as well,' you said. So I did, and you put your finger in me, telling me how sweet I was and how I was getting hard again already, and how you couldn't wait to make me come again. 'I just want what's best for you.' So I said, 'Why?' and you said that that's what all fathers want for their sons."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan whimpers. He has one hand around his cock, his robe half pulled open, and he squeezes, hard. From the noise on the other side, he just knows that Anakin is touching himself as well, a wet slapping sound too loud in the still air between them.

"I didn't know if you meant Father as in your job, so when you said that I turned my head and just said, 'Dad?' and suddenly you were coming all over my ass. You hadn't even fucked me, you know. But I almost came again just imagining all of that." His voice breaks on the last words, and Obi-Wan, picturing the scene Anakin has laid out for him in perfect detail, teeters over the edge with a choked off moan deep in his throat.

The noise Anakin makes as he comes as well convinces Obi-Wan that if he died right now and went straigh to hell, it would have been worth it.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! This was the nastiest one so far, I hope I didn't lose you here lmao. Comments and kudos are as always very much appreciated. Say hi or send a prompt on tumblr!

Chapter 6: cock warming

Summary:

prompt requested by anon
additional tags: bottom anakin, ambiguously aged anakin

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"We are all in agreement, then?" Mace asks, his projection flickering for a second before it comes to rest along with the other members of the Council. Obi-Wan is the only one absent, stuck as he is on Koboh with Anakin and a pair of droids. The sandstorm that hit them yesterday is one good enough reason to have his own holopad turned only on visual receiving mode.

The other is Anakin sitting on his lap, Obi-Wan's soft cock buried in his ass, and Obi-Wan's free arm slung lazily around his waist to keep him in place. He's taking notes with his other hand, as if this is nothing to him. As if he and his Padawan do this all the time.

Anakin whimpers when Obi-Wan leans forward to correct something on his datapad, and Obi-Wan's cock twitches in response.

"Quiet," he whispers in his ear, and turns his attention back to the blue shapes of his fellow Jedi.

"Send someone to Mandalore to investigate, we shall," Yoda says, "Obi-Wan, I nominate."

"Yes," Mace nods. "I seem to recall that you're friendly with the Duchess, Obi-Wan?"

"I am," he says, in as neutral a tone as possible. "But I don't know when Anakin and I will be free to get back to Coruscant. The negotiations here could take up a few days, if not weeks, more."

He squeezes Anakin's thigh as a reward for keeping quiet, even though he knows that Anakin understood this remark for what it was: a promise to him that they had time for more like this.

"Of course. The situation on Mandalore is not urgent, but I would sleep easier if we resolved it sooner rather than later. We don't want tensions riding high again."

"Agree with Master Windu, I do."

"Me too," Master Gallia says. "And I would like to add, while we're here, that I have finally gathered some information regarding the activities of a smuggler ring operating off of Mygeeto. With your permission, I'm going to detail my plan to infiltrate it."

Obi-Wan listens to her with his attention half on her words, and half on the way Anakin is beginning to squirm in his lap. He's half naked, his trouser neatly folded on a side table along with Obi-Wan's robe. Just because he can, Obi-Wan reaches forward and cups him in his hand. Anakin's cock is small, which may be why he bucks in Obi-Wan's grip all the more eagerly, precome coating his palm.

"Master," he tries to say, but Obi-Wan cuts him off with his other hand over his mouth. Anakin's hot breath against his skin is enough to make his own cock stiffen again, not much, but he feels it when Anakin does, by the way his breath hitches and the muscles on his thigh tighten and release.

"Obi-Wan? Is something the matter?"

"Not at all," he says easily, shifting just a little more. Anakin's fingers dig into his leg, and Obi-Wan smiles. "Just a wobbly transmission, nothing more. Please continue."

And he lets go of Anakin, ignores him as if he were alone in the room. This is the point of the whole spiel, he knows, but he couldn't resist touching his pretty Padawan. He's half hard again by now, and Anakin is beginning to breathe a bit more shallowly. His back arches against Obi-Wan's chest, eyes screwed shut. He's truly a sight to behold, letting Obi-Wan use his hole to warm his own cock like a good boy.

Drifting a little, Obi-Wan allows himself to think about what they might do later tonight. Anakin begged him for some roleplay yesterday, which Obi-Wan didn't refuse outright, but placated him with promises of trying it another time. He wasn't in the mood, and Anakin should learn to respect that. What he had in mind involved less acting and more physical exertion. He'd ask, no, tell, Anakin to tie him up in bed. It was too long since someone had obliged him, and Obi-Wan just knows that Anakin will jump at the chance. He can practically see them doing it already, him surrendering to whatever his Padawan has in mind for him, and he swallows thickly, hears Anakin suppress a moan at being completely filled up again.

"Thank you," Adi says then, "that will be all from me."

"Discuss this proposal we shall, but at another time."

"Yes," Mace says. "Obi-Wan, I expect you and Padawan Skywalker to send a first provisional report tomorrow morning. And please get that holoprojector fixed."

Obi-Wan pulls Anakin closer against his chest and says, "Of course," before ending the transmission. As soon as the blue shapes disappear, Anakin lets out a low "Fuck," his head falling back against Obi-Wan's shoulder.

"You did so well, Anakin," he murmurs in his ear. "Two hours of keeping me nice and warm inside. I think you deserve a reward for being so good."

"Thank you," Anakin pants, "thank you, thank you, thank you."

And Obi-Wan holds his hips down as he fucks into Anakin lazily, all languid strokes that he knows will drive him crazy before long. Anakin is leaking all over his stomach, soiling his robes, but they can take care of that later.

"Do you think you can come without touching yourself?" Obi-Wan whispers, and Anakin nods, sweat gathering on his forehead. "Good. Go ahead then. I want you to really make me feel it. And then I want you to let me fill you up myself, all right?"

"Yes," Anakin says, and Obi-Wan kisses the side of his head as he comes, clenching around Obi-Wan, who only needs a few more seconds to follow him over the edge. Anakin babbles a few more thank yous, and nestles into Obi-Wan again, boneless and apparently content to let his come dry on his tunic. But Obi-Wan is having none of it. He scoops up what hasn't seeped into the fabric yet, and says, "Open up."

His fingers against Anakin's tongue, he smiles at his earlier fantasy. He knows it's going to be a long, long night.

Notes:

Thank you for reading!!

Chapter 7: slut shaming

Summary:

oral sex, anal fingering, ambiguously aged anakin (this is becoming a theme i think)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"You still have a lot to learn, Padawan."

Anakin clenches around nothing at his Master's words and tries to do better, tries to swallow Obi-Wan down even more. But his mouth is already so full that he lets out a choking noise, and his jaw is starting to ache. Obi-Wan runs a hand over Anakin's hair absentmindedly, almost as if he was bored.

"Haven't you been listening when I've told you what I liked? We've been through this so many times that I was hoping something would stick."

If he could reply, Anakin would apologize until words began to fail him. He feels tears prick the corners of his eyes as he bobs his head up and down in lieu of a verbal response.

Please please please let me try and be good for you, I'll do anything, please, please—

"But I must say, your mouth does feel good around my cock," Obi-Wan muses. "It really was made to have me inside."

He shifts his hips languidly as he says this, and Anakin gags, spit running down Obi-Wan's length and onto Anakin's hand, clamped around the base like his life depends on it. The taste of his Master's precome is bitter on the back of his tongue, not particularly pleasant. But Anakin would rather jump into a rancor's den than admit this out loud and risk never being able to suck him off again.

"Look at the mess you're making, Anakin." The chiding tone has him screw his eyes shut. A shiver runs down his spine when Obi-Wan scoops up some of his drool and smears it into Anakin's hair, drying his fingers with a disapproving click of his tongue. "But I guess being such a whore for my cock comes with a price."

He somehow sinks deeper into Anakin's throat, pulls out almost all the way before pushing inside again. "It's a good thing then that your Master is here to do the paying attention for you, isn't it?"

Anakin moans around him, filled up once more. His eyes fall shut without his permission, but Obi-Wan doesn't seem to mind.

"I know it's hard to concentrate when you're stuffed full like that, but we're here for you to learn, aren't we? So listen carefully, Padawan."

Unable to nod, Anakin squints up at Obi-Wan through teary lashes.

"I want you to lay down on your back. Now," he adds when Anakin doesn't move.

Scrambling to obey, Anakin pulls away from Obi-Wan's cock with a loud pop ringing in the quiet room. He curses when his jaw threatens to cramp, runs a hand over his puffy lips.

"Oh, look at that," Obi-Wan murmurs and leans in to soothe him with his thumb, making Anakin shiver. "You're so pretty with your mouth all used like that. You would let anyone stick their cock down your throat, wouldn't you? Or shove your face into their cunt." He pauses. "I'm so glad I started fucking you before all the rest of them could. But you had some fun with someone else before, right?" Anakin can only nod. "I know," Obi-Wan sighs. "A little slut like you starts early. And some of the other Padawans are pretty, aren't they? Of course you'd offer yourself to them, just like you did to me. All right, c'mere." And he maneuvers Anakin until he is satisfied and swings his leg across Anakin's chest to straddle him, cock in hand, and guides himself into Anakin's mouth again.

"That's it Padawan, open up for your Master. We both know you didn't want to stay empty for long, hm?"

Anakin hums around him, the new angle and Obi-Wan's weight on top of him making him see stars. His own cock, abandoned and leaking onto his stomach, twitches at this new wave of sensations.

"Now take this," Obi-Wan says, and hands Anakin a small tube of bacta, "and do your Master a favor. Play with my hole a little; can you do that?"

What kind of question is that? Anakin thinks as he coats two fingers with the cool gel and reaches forward, spreading Obi-Wan's cheeks apart with his free hand. He plans to take his time, but Obi-Wan uses this moment to sink as deep into Anakin's throat as he can go. It's too much, and not enough at the same time. Anakin writhes underneath him and his fingers tighten in Obi-Wan's flesh reflexively, hard enough to bruise, and it seems like this is what Obi-Wan wanted, because he strokes Anakin's cheek and showers him with all kinds of praise.

Then he pulls back, fucks his mouth a little more gently. Anakin gets his bearings again, brushes against Obi-Wan's taint before focusing on his rim. He dips one fingertip inside just as Obi-Wan starts talking again.

"Fuck, Anakin, you look like such a slut right now. All the whores on Coruscant couldn't compare, and I've got you all to myself. All mine, all of this for me to use and to play with. Do you like that? Do you like that you're my little plaything? My toy?"

"Uh-huh," Anakin somehow chokes out, one finger inside Obi-Wan. His Master's breath doesn't even change. He has to do better.

"I knew you would. You'd do anything for your Master, wouldn't you? I think I'll let someone else have a go at you soon, just so that you can compare and see how good you have it."

Anakin is crying openly now, and his cock is aching, the need to come driving him insane. But he manages to push a second finger up Obi-Wan's ass, fucks up into him with uncoordinated movements.

"Sloppy," Obi-Wan breathes. "At least try and concentrate, please." And he slaps him, not hard, but it's enough to force more precome onto Anakin's stomach.

As if he has noticed, Obi-Wan reaches behind his back and runs his fingers through the mess Anakin has made. He avoids touching his cock, as Anakin knew he would.

"You're disgusting, you know that? Leaking all over yourself and my nice bedsheets; who do you think is going to clean this up?"

Me, let me do it, Anakin tries to tell him with his eyes, and Obi-Wan understands. He pulls himself out of Anakin's mouth only to shove two fingers onto his tongue, feeding Anakin his own come.

"Does that taste good?"

"Yes, yes, yes," Anakin says around his knuckles, voice utterly wrecked. He laps at Obi-Wan's fingers until they're clean, stares cross-eyed at his Master's red and glistening cock in front of him.

"Faster, Anakin," Obi-Wan says, and it's only then that he realizes that he has almost stopped moving his hand. He obeys quickly, fingering Obi-Wan as deep as the angle allows, spurned on by the little moans that his Master finally allows to come out.

"I'm close, Padawan," he murmurs, and starts to stroke himself. He taps his fat cockhead against Anakin's lips and cheeks a few times, smears his face with precome and spit. Anakin opens his mouth on instinct, knows he hits Obi-Wan's sweet spot when he lurches forward and grunts above him.

"That's right, show me your tongue Anakin." He's breathing hard, his hand losing its rhythm. "I'm going to come on you, and you're going to take it like the little slut you are, won't you?"

"Please, Master," Anakin whispers, and before he can ask for it again, Obi-Wan shoots thick ropes of come down onto his face. Anakin doesn't flinch, not even when he gets some in his eyelashes. He just lays there, his fingers still buried in Obi-Wan's ass, and waits until his Master is finished.

"Good boy," Obi-Wan cooes, then looks over his shoulder. "And you didn't even come yourself. So one of my lessons has gone through after all."

Anakin would have been proud, if Obi-Wan didn't use the next moment to wipe his broad palm over his face, making even more of a mess of him than before. But Anakin takes it; he can be good like that.

After all, he learned from the best.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are as always very much appreciated. Say hi or send a prompt on tumblr!

Chapter 8: feminization

Summary:

prompt requested by anon: anakin got a womb tattoo that obi-wan cannot stop touching

bottom anakin

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan is ignoring him. No matter that he has good reasons to do so (a report to the Council, rest after an exhausting mission), Anakin thinks. They're sitting right across from each other in Obi-Wan's quarters, but Obi-Wan is hunched over his datapad, brow furrowed in concentration.

So Anakin helps himself, and lets his mind wander. He thinks about the way Obi-Wan smiled at him when they boarded the shuttle back to the Negotiator, praise for a job well done. Warmth spreads from Anakin's chest at the memory, and he shifts in his seat. Obi-Wan doesn't react.

If he didn't know how annoyed his former Master would be, he'd kick his chair back right now, drop into Obi-Wan's lap and probably kiss him senseless first before showing him his latest surprise for him, then pressing their cocks together until—

"Anakin?"

"Yes?" His voice comes out higher than usual.

"You're fidgeting. What's the matter?"

He didn't notice, but now that Obi-Wan says it, Anakin makes himself let go of his own pad, having given up on finishing his part of the report for today.

"I was just thinking."

"Oh? About what?"

Making you come in your pants while I sit on your lap and play with your hair and then getting you to fuck me later tonight and calling you Master and daddy and mine mine mine, is what Anakin doesn't say. His face must betray him though, because something in Obi-Wan's expression shifts.

"You're blushing," Obi-Wan says. "Like a girl."

Anakin knows it's true, but he still retorts, "I'm not," clocking only a moment later just what Obi-Wan said.

Like a girl.

They've talked about this before, or rather Anakin begged Obi-Wan for it, who always said later, some other time. Placating him with the promise of one day fucking him while calling him pretty, an angel, his beautiful girl. Anakin doesn't remember where this came from, but ever since he first thought about it, he's been unable to let go of it. And of course Obi-Wan would choose a moment like this to finally oblige him.

The world seems to narrow down to this room, and Anakin swallows. Now that he's here, so close to getting what he wants, he doesn't know what to do. Obi-Wan smiles and leans back in his seat.

"It's been a long day, hasn't it? Why don't we finish this tomorrow?"

"Yes," Anakin manages, and gets up before Obi-Wan can so much as switch his datapad off. He's halfway to the door of Obi-Wan's bedroom before he hears a soft sigh behind him. Alarm bells go off in his head, and he turns to see Obi-Wan still sitting at the desk.

"Some standards should be maintained, Anakin." He's using his old Master tone, exaggerating it a bit for whatever it is they're about to do. "You go ahead and get ready for me. I want you to wait just five more minutes while I tidy up a bit."

"Yes Master," Anakin says, heart hammering against his ribs. He leans against the door after closing it behind him, one hand over his mouth. This is real, he reminds himself, so he'd better catch up.

As promised, Obi-Wan joins him just after Anakin got comfortable on the bed, his back against the pillows, legs spread out in front of him with one knee bent. He's stroking himself lazily, giving Obi-Wan a show, and preens when he sees Obi-Wan swallow and briefly palm himself through his trousers, only in his undertunics already.

"Did I say that you should touch yourself?"

"Sorry," Anakin murmurs, finally slipping into the role completely. He folds his hands over his stomach, watches as Obi-Wan climbs onto the bed with him.

"It's all right, I know how eager you are to have your little pussy played with," Obi-Wan murmurs, pushing Anakin's thighs apart as he settles between his legs. Then he pauses. "Is that what I think it is?" he breathes.

"Yeah," Anakin says, grinning as Obi-Wan gingerly touches the intricate whorls and spirals of the tattoo on Anakin's abdomen. He went to the best artist he knows, a woman in one of the few somewhat reputable areas of the Coruscanti lower levels, and the result is just perfect, if Obi-Wan's glazed eyes are any indication.

"It's beautiful," he says, and presses down on one side. Anakin gasps as Obi-Wan drags his fingertips over the black lines.

"Fuck," Anakin manages as Obi-Wan grabs him harder, pulling him halfway up his lap.

"Just let me look for a moment. And hold still."

Anakin does as he's told, watches Obi-Wan watching him.

"Beautiful," Obi-Wan repeats. Then his eyes slide down, and he spreads Anakin's cheeks apart.

"And such a pretty cunt. Is all of this for me?"

"Yes, of course," Anakin says. Obi-Wan raises one eyebrow, then trails his fingers over his hole. Anakin gasps and lets his head fall back.

"Good. I wouldn't want anyone else to have a go at my girl's pussy." He starts rubbing two fingers against Anakin's rim, and this, together with what Obi-Wan is saying, is enough to make him leak onto his stomach, onto the tattoo. Obi-Wan scoops some of his precome up, smears it against Anakin's entrance.

"Master," Anakin whispers, and opens his eyes just as Obi-Wan pushes the tip of one finger inside him, not far, but Anakin still exhales sharply and has to resist the urge to grab his cock again.

"That's right, let your Master take care of you, hm? You feel so good, Anakin, such a tight cunt around me. I can't wait to fuck your little pussy, but we have to get you nice and wet before that."

He's fingering him properly now, sliding in and out of Anakin's hole with practiced ease. Anakin's back arches a little, and Obi-Wan reaches out with his free hand to toy with one of his nipples.

"Your tits are so pretty too," Obi-Wan continues, fondling him as he speaks. "You're the most beautiful girl in the entire Temple, do you know that?"

Anakin doesn't reply but leans into Obi-Wan's touch, holding onto his own thighs for support.

"Of course you know. You're so vain that I sometimes think you want everyone else in your bed just to annoy me." He stops for a moment, and Anakin whines. "Shush," Obi-Wan says, and reaches for a tube of bacta on the nightstand. He coats three fingers liberally and goes back to Anakin's hole, the cool gel making him squirm. His other hand splays over the tattoo, pushing down on it and kneading the skin with his fingers.

"But I know you'd never do that, would you?"

"No Master, of course not," he stammers, feeling like a Padawan again. Two of Obi-Wan's fingers are inside him now, filling him up so good already. The third is grazing against his taint in time with the others, his touch light as a feather.

"Good girl," he says, and pulls out slowly. Anakin watches as he pushes his trousers down and slicks up his cock, swallows thickly when he feels the head nudge at his rim. "Shh, Anakin, just relax. I know you can take it, but I don't want to hurt you."

Anakin's eyes roll back at the delicious press of Obi-Wan against him, inside him, his Master going inch by inch until Anakin is filled up completely. Obi-Wan groans and grabs his hips, hard enough to bruise.

"Force, Anakin, you're so tight. Such a warm little cunt clenching around your Master's cock."

"Does it feel good?" Anakin mumbles, then moans when Obi-Wan starts fucking him in earnest.

"So good. Your pussy was made for me, and only me. And this pretty little thing here—" He traces the lines on Anakin's stomach again, "also means that you're mine. Do you understand?"

"I do," Anakin says, or tries to, because Obi-Wan chooses this moment to play with his rim again.

"That's my girl," Obi-Wan practically cooes, angles his hips just right, and presses his fingers against him mercilessly, his other hand roaming over the tattoo again, pressing down in time with his thrusts. After what feels like an eternity of this, Anakin is boneless, pliant, his only thought being how much he needs Obi-Wan to come inside him.

Reading his face, Obi-Wan says, "I'm going to fill up your pussy now, Anakin. And you're going to be good and let me, all right?"

"Please," he chokes out, warmth coiling inside his belly, his own orgasm building and building without pause.

Obi-Wan snaps his hips against him, gasps as he comes. Anakin takes it like a good girl, squeezing Obi-Wan with his cunt. He deserves every last drop, he thinks smugly, basking in Obi-Wan's attention like a lothcat in a patch of sunlight.

Notes:

thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Chapter 9: somnophilia

Summary:

bottom obi-wan, slightly possessive anakin, consensual but he is still a little weird about it

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

It's Obi-Wan's scent that hits Anakin before all else, even before he sees him curled up in bed, a sight that has always had a charged meaning for him, but nothing as intense as it does now. As soon as the door clicks shut behind him, Anakin can't help but breathe in deeply through his nose, hold still for a moment before releasing again, the action accompanied by a slight shudder.

A zesty, fruity smell, with an undercurrent of spice that might have come from all number of sources. A soap or bar of shampoo, a lotion Obi-Wan has picked up on a random planet, or maybe something to put on after a shave. Whatever it is, Anakin feels his mouth go dry and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

The light in the room is dim, the blinds drawn against the Coruscanti night, but he knows his way. Trailing his fingers along a wall, he walks around the bed first, drinking in the soft sounds of Obi-Wan's breathing. Everything is so peaceful; not really an appropriate setting for what they agreed to do tonight. But then again, when has anything between the two of them ever managed to stick to any kind of pre-written script? And why should they care about something so trivial?

After a few minutes of looking, Anakin is growing antsy. He shucks off his boots, winces at the sound they make when they fall over, but Obi-Wan doesn't even stir. Anakin swallows, and has to actively stop himself from palming his already half hard cock through his pants.

As if to mock him for that thought, Obi-Wan lets out a small, breathy sound and shifts under the covers. Anakin claps a hand over his own mouth, biting into the flesh of his fingers to keep quiet. He's sweating, every small noise setting off alarm bells in his head, but he knows, deep down, that they'll be fine. Obi-Wan said so, and Anakin believes him, simple as that.

He pulls his sleeping shirt over his head, shivering as he feels his nipples harden without him having to touch himself. He throws it onto the floor, his trousers right after, and climbs onto the bed in nothing but his underwear. Still no reaction from his Master, not even when Anakin moves to lift up the covers to run his hands across Obi-Wan's body.

Before he allows himself to do that, however, he has to kiss him. Leaning down, he brushes a strand of hair from Obi-Wan's forehead, and then Anakin finally presses his lips to Obi-Wan's skin, first his cheek, then his mouth. He groans despite himself, and shoves the bedsheet away in one quick move.

"Fuck," he whispers; Obi-Wan is naked. This isn't what they'd planned, isn't what Anakin fantasized about for weeks on end before Obi-Wan had finally agreed to try it.

Light sleeping pills, a quiet night on leave, and hours upon hours for Anakin to to what he likes to Obi-Wan.

It's better and worse at the same time, and Anakin's cock twitches at the sight of his Master's pale skin exposed already, just waiting for him to reach out and touch.

Anakin doesn't know what to do first. He wants to kiss, lick, suck all at once, and he wants it so badly that his head is swimming with one desire after the next. Without thinking he gropes at Obi-Wan's chest, running his fingers through the short hairs and tweaking his nipple until it hardens beneath his touch. He watches Obi-Wan's cock stir, his legs shift so that he exposes himself even more. Anakin is painfully hard by now, the fabric of his underwear too tight and too intense against his erection.

He moves his hand lower, across Obi-Wan's stomach, and watches goosebumps spread on his skin, caresses him for a moment until he can't wait anymore. Taking his cock in one hand, Anakin shoves the other down his own boxers and wants to cry at the feeling of relief. He's leaking while Obi-Wan is still relatively soft, and as much as he loves holding his Master like this, he wants to taste him.

Letting go of himself with a hiss, he shifts Obi-Wan around until he can scoot down to lick at his ass, closing his eyes at the heavenly feeling of burying his face between Obi-Wan's cheeks. He digs his fingers into the soft flesh and spreads them apart to reach all he can, and he doesn't know if it's the knowledge that he can do anything he wants to Obi-Wan right now that sends him closer and closer to the edge, or if it's just Obi-Wan, plain and simple.

He's fucking into the mattress by now, small, uncontrolled movements that he'd be embarrassed about if Obi-Wan could see him like this, but he can't. He must feel the way Anakin's tongue dips into his hole, though, because he lets out another of those small moans, and Anakin grabs hold of hismelf again and wants to die right then and there, because how could his life realistically get any better than this?

Before he realizes what is happening, he's coming in his underwear; all it has taken were a few quick strokes. He breathes heavily into Obi-Wan's skin, his vision clearing only slowly, and when he can think again, he kisses his Master's balls, feels them tight and perfect against his lips.

They have all night. No, Anakin corrects himself. He has all night. All night to make Obi-Wan come until he can't anymore. All night to get his own cock hard and ready for more. He spits onto his fingers, and smiles as Obi-Wan sighs again, as if he has heard his thoughts on the still air.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are as always very much appreciated. Say hi or send a prompt on tumblr!

Chapter 10: pussywan

Summary:

yeah.
bottom obi-wan, ambiguously aged anakin, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The light is low, just how Obi-Wan prefers it. He's pleasantly tipsy, nowhere near to being truly drunk, but there's a soft undercurrent to his thoughts and a warmer, richer quality to his sensations than usual. And of course, he has Anakin right where he wants him.

"You like that?" His Padawan is making his way slowly down Obi-Wan's torso, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses along his exposed skin.

"Always, you know that," Obi-Wan says, and runs a hand through Anakin's short hair. He plays with the braid hanging down at the back of his head, tugs when Anakin spends a little too much time with one nipple over the other.

"Sorry, Master," Anakin says sheepishly, but he smiles when Obi-Wan pushes his face around until he's satisfied.

The feeling of Anakin's warm lips against his chest is sending sparks down his spine, and Obi-Wan arches into the touch, his free hand splayed across Anakin's naked back. His fingers dig into the muscle, and Anakin hums before he goes lower, kissing along his stomach, holding onto Obi-Wan's waist.

"That's good, Padawan," Obi-Wan murmurs, still stroking his hair. Anakin presses his hips into the mattress at the praise, and Obi-Wan suddenly remembers the first time they'd slept together, and Anakin's orgasm had hit after mere minutes of Obi-Wan showering him with encouragement and compliments.

He's come far since then, and they both know how to make the other last. Obi-Wan intends to use this to his full advantage tonight.

"Master, can I?" Anakin has reached the only piece of clothing still between them; with a nod, Obi-Wan helps him take his underwear off, lifting his hips so that Anakin can pull them down his legs and throw them into the pile of their other stuff.

"Force," Anakin groans, as if he still isn't used to his Master's pussy. Obi-Wan knows he's wetter than usual, not through anything he did before this, but sometimes he just wakes up and knows that it's one of those days. "You're so pretty, Master."

"Why don't you show me just how pretty, hm?"

Anakin doesn't need to be told twice. He licks at Obi-Wan's cunt one, two, three times before sucking on his clit with a moan deep in his throat.

"Good boy, Anakin," Obi-Wan says in a low voice. His breath hitches when he feels Anakin's tongue push against his entrance, and he grabs his braid and pulls when it slips in for a moment, wet and warm and perfect.

Anakin groans against him and pulls away with a sloppy noise, looks up at Obi-Wan with his mouth hanging slightly open. His lips are so red already, and Obi-Wan licks his own at the sight of his slick coating them.

"What?"

"Nothing. Am I not allowed to play with my little Padawan?" He grins mercilessly at the way Anakin blushes and guides his head down again, one hand still in his hair. "Oh, and don't forget your fingers, Anakin."

He knows what this tone does to Anakin; he goes even more pliant than before, kissing Obi-Wan's pussy and not waiting another second before he pushes two fingers in at once, curling them not quite perfectly, but Obi-Wan knows he's bound to mess up a little if he gets too worked up. The fact that he is the one to get Anakin to this point makes a warm knot form in Obi-Wan's stomach.

"Anakin," he murmurs, when he feels his Padawan's movements get a little erratic, "do you want to fuck me properly now?"

"Please," comes the choked off reply, "please Master, I promise I'll be good for you."

"You do?" He tries and fails to sound aloof, and if the light in Anakin's eyes is anything to go by, he notices too.

"So good, just tell me what you want, Master, anything."

Interesting.

"Let's stick to what you do best for now," Obi-Wan drawls, "and fuck your Master's cunt, all right? We can talk about anything some other time."

Anakin pulls away with one last, smacking kiss to Obi-Wan's clit. They push and pull at each other a bit before Anakin seems satisfied with the position and guides himself to Obi-Wan's entrance. He rubs the head of his cock against his folds, his grip around the base tight as a vise.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan says, goes for a warning tone that doesn't quite hit but dissolves into a groan when Anakin teases his clit again, nudges his hole and dips inside for just a moment. He really has learned a lot.

"Am I not allowed to play with my Master?" he asks smugly, and Obi-Wan does his best to glare at him. Then something inside him shifts.

"I love you," he says simply.

This does the trick. Anakin, his mouth hanging slightly open, pushes into his cunt in one go, a smooth, easy stroke that has both of them gasping. Obi-Wan hooks his leg over Anakin's hip, tries to take him deeper.

"I love you, Master," he babbles, his face only inches from Obi-Wan's, "I love you I love you I love you."

They fall into an easy rhythm, Anakin filling him up so good that Obi-Wan barely needs to talk him through it. But he talks anyway, just because he can.

"That's it, Anakin, look at that. How does your Master's cunt feel around your cock, hm? Do you like how tight it is? Do you like fucking a tight, warm pussy?"

"Uh-huh," Anakin tries to reply, "I love it, Master."

"I know. And you're doing so well. Can you go faster? C'mon, make me really feel it, Padawan."

And he does. Warmth pools in his stomach, a wave of pressure building and building, with only one way out.

"Make me come on your cock, Anakin. And then you can come inside my cunt, all right?" he breathes, rubs his own clit in quick, uncoordinated circles. The sound of Anakin fucking in and out of him drowns out everything else in his awareness, and he just has enough presence of mind to tell Anakin when he's coming.

"Master," Anakin moans, his own orgasm ripped out of him, his hips snapping against Obi-Wan hard enough to hurt. But it's worth it. They've never come together like this, perfectly in synch. Obi-Wan smiles into Anakin's hair when he slumps down on him.

"My sweet boy," he murmurs. "So good for your Master."

And as he feels Anakin's cock soften inside him, his mind is already skipping ahead to the next round. Anakin deserves a treat, he decides.

"Mouth or fingers?" he whispers in his Padawan's ear, and feels his blush against his lips.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are as always very much appreciated. Say hi or send a prompt on tumblr!

Chapter 11: rpf (hayden/ewan)

Summary:

what can i say, i read the heart rate of a mouse as a teenager and haven't been normal since
additional tags: handjobs, infidelity

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The party is already in full swing when Natalie comes over to sit with him for a few moments. She nods towards a provisional poster on display in a corner of the room, only half visible behind a cluster of crew members.

"Can I ask you something?"

Hayden nods, takes a sip of his drink.

"Are you ever mad about being third? You know, Darth Vader, the turning point of the story, and two other names are on the call sheet before you?"

"What makes you think that?" he asks, and laughs. "Besides, I'm Vader for maybe five minutes. And you're you, and Ewan is, well." He lets the sentence hang in the air, unsure how to proceed.

"A movie star?"

"I guess."

"He's certainly behaving like one," she says drily, and Hayden follows her gaze to where Ewan is standing with a group of people, listening to a stunt guy, but instead of nodding along, he interrupts him every few moments with a half raised hand. When they laugh, his is the loudest out of all of them.

"Don't be too hard on him," Hayden murmurs, and doesn't miss the look she gives him. "He deserves it."

"I guess," she echoes, and smiles at someone across the room. "I'm gonna go and say hi to Lawrence," she says, kisses his cheek, and gets up. Hayden looks after her, suddenly feeling incredibly tired. It didn't sink in until a few days ago that this is the end. Not even George's final "Cut!" managed to bring that feeling of ultimate closure, and now, at the wrap party, he realizes it with full force. Reshoots and voice over sessions aside, he knows it won't be the same.

Ewan is laughing again, and Hayden stares at the back of his head until suddenly, Ewan looks at him over his shoulder, raises his eyebrows in a silent invitation. When he joins them, he puts a hand on the small of Hayden's back, applying just the lightest pressure. He swallows.

"We were just talking about you," he says, mock conspiratorially.

"Oh yeah?" Hayden says, trying not to look as nervous as he feels.

"Ewan said you did all the fight scenes yourself?" The boy who asks this is probably around sixteen, most likely one of the kids who always used to run around on set, watching their parents work.

"We did," Hayden confirms, and smiles as the boy's eyes widen almost comically.

"Told you," Ewan says, and slings his arm over Hayden's shoulder. The scent of his aftershave makes Hayden's mouth go a little dry. "He's the best. Dedicated, driven, and—" He fishes around for another word, "dangerous?" he says with an exaggerated look of doubt.

"To the ladies maybe," someone passing by hoots, and laughs. Hayden's face heats up, and the weight of Ewan's arm is suddenly a bit too heavy.

"Excuse me," he says, and ducks out from underneath him. He makes it halfway to the exit when he hears Ewan behind him.

"You're all right?"

"Yeah, sure. I just needed to, uhm. I wanted some air."

"Good idea." He rummages in his pockets. "Smoke?"

Hayden feels his face soften, relaxes a little. "That'd be great, thank you."


"Sorry about that just now," Ewan says as he lights his cigarette. Hayden watches him take a drag before he cups his hand around the one between his lips, curses when the lighter doesn't catch. "Fucking hell," he murmurs, then leans in and presses the tip of his to Hayden's, who almost forgets to inhale.

It's a thing of maybe five seconds, and Ewan pulls back with a satisfied sound, completely unconcerned. Hayden blinks and just knows that he is blushing embarrassingly hard, looks away when Ewan squints at him in the semi darkness.

"Sorry about what?" he forces out.

"The guy who said—oh, y'know what, nevermind."

Hayden can't place the look Ewan is giving him. He feels small under his gaze, as if were an insect beneath a magnifying glass.

"It's fine," he says, waves this and all the other comments about his looks away, or tries to. But it's not far enough apparently.

"Is he wrong, though?"

"Huh?"

"Come on," Ewan scoffs, "Natalie was all over you tonight."

"No she wasn't," he says with a half hearted laugh.

"Should I be jealous?"

Hayden almost drops the cigarette from between his lips. But Ewan's look is steady, no hint of irony that he can see.

"I'm kidding," he says after a pause that felt too long to Hayden. Taking another drag, he angles his face away as he blows out the smoke, and Hayden watches his jaw work, stares at his lips when they close around the cigarette again. He shifts where he stands and tries to laugh. Looks at the ring on Ewan's finger, then away.

"Anyway, I think we should get back in there, don't you?" Then, "Hayden?" he adds after a beat.

"Sorry, er—yeah, you're right."

But he doesn't move, and neither does Ewan. He studies him intently, his head cocked to one side.

"Look, I didn't mean anything weird, okay? You know how I am. C'mere, I'm sorry." And with that he leans in and kisses Hayden, full on the lips. He's done this before, but usually on the cheek or the corner of his mouth. Now it feels different, despite the affected lightheartedness of his words.

Hayden doesn't react consciously; instead, his body responds for him, one hand coming up to cup Ewan's neck, and he opens up, angling his head, but then Ewan is pulling away.

"Woah," he laughs, Hayden's fingers still against his skin. He flushes and has to look away, an apology already on his tongue, but then something in Ewan's face shifts. Suddenly, the joke isn't funny anymore.

Hayden's hand drops down to his shoulder, both their cigarettes to the ground, when Ewan kisses him again, cautiously at first, but then Ewan slips his tongue into Hayden's mouth, and he thinks he might see stars. Everything around him evaporates at the feeling of kissing Ewan, being kissed by him, his strong hands keeping Hayden's head in place.

He moans when Ewan sucks on his tongue before biting his lower lip as he pulls back. Hayden feels his heart beating at a thousand miles per minute against his chest, his breathing coming in shallow little gasps.

"Everything okay?" Ewan asks, swallows when Hayden nods. Then he reaches out, as if this is something they do every day, and cups Hayden through his pants. "More than okay I see," he says, his smile all teeth.

"Ewan," Hayden whispers, then gasps when he pops the button and pulls Hayden's fly down in two quick moves.

"Okay?"

"Fuck, yes, please," he mutters, everything around him blurring to nothing when Ewan's fingers close around his cock and he stars jerking him off, slowly at first, but as soon as Hayden presses their foreheads together, he finds the perfect rhythm. Hayden can't help but watch as he spits on his fist, saliva and precome mixing and making his head spin with pleasure.

"You're so pretty, you know that?" Ewan murmurs, not looking him in the eye. "They can say that you're hot, sure, whatever, but what you really are is pretty. More people should say that."

He twists his hand, and Hayden feels his legs begin to shake.

"Or maybe they shouldn't. This could be just for me to see."

"God, please don't stop," Hayden says, his voice breaking on the last word. He's so close already, his stomach too tight and his forearms, leaning on Ewan's shoulders for support, feel as if they're made of lead.

"I won't," Ewan manages, and it's only now that Hayden realizes that he's palming himself as well. In a moment of supreme clarity, Hayden shoves his thigh into Ewan's crotch as an offering, which, if Ewan's groan is any indication, is much more than welcome.

"That's it, come on," he chants as he starts to move, his hand on Hayden's cock losing momentum, but he doesn't care. How could he, when he feels Ewan pressed up against him, rutting like a dog, using him to get off. His face is against Hayden's neck by now, his lips ghosting over the spot just below his ear.

"Do you want me to—?" Hayden shivers when he feels Ewan lick at his jaw before replying.

"Just, ah fuck, just stay like this, okay?" And with that Ewan readjusts his grip, squeezes Hayden just right, and laughs breathlessly when he comes, Hayden going completely boneless against Ewan's body. He doesn't remember the last time he came this hard this quickly, and the way Ewan is stroking him through it, he knows that this is what he'll think about to try and manage it again.

"Pretty," Ewan says, his hips stuttering. His hands roam up until he's holding Hayden firmly by the waist, grounding him.

"Please let me," Hayden tries again, and without a word, Ewan tugs himself free from his pants. Hayden stares for a moment.

"Oh," he says after spitting in his palm and closing his fingers around him. He's seen Ewan naked before, has watched Velvet Goldmine one or two or maybe five times, but this is different. This is real.

Ewan's moans when Hayden starts to move are real, and so is his hot breath against Hayden's skin. The filthy things he whispers in his ear are real too, with the way they make his brain melt. And his come is real, tastes real when Hayden licks it off his finger.

"So pretty," Ewan says, kisses the shell of Hayden's ear. His hand is pressed against the side of his face, and the cool metal of his wedding ring digging into his skin is real, too; maybe a little more so than everything else.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are as always very much appreciated. Say hi or send a prompt on tumblr!

Chapter 12: face sitting

Summary:

what it says in the title + prompt requested by anon: anakin is still an amputee
additional tags: semi-public sex, handjob

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"C'mon, Anakin, just a little bit lower. Lower, lower, and—that's it, how does that feel?"

"Not great," comes the grunted out response. Anakin is lying on the floor, Obi-Wan kneeling between his bent legs, guiding his thighs apart into a deep stretch that he always used to dread as a Padawan himself. But it's a necessary evil, and though he hates seeing Anakin uncomfortable, they have to do it, especially now that Anakin has to get used to living with only one arm for a time. Creating a durasteel limb would take weeks, and they simply have no time to lose. After Geonosis, Anakin began throwing himself into sparring sessions and exercise, and Obi-Wan is left to make sure he doesn't over exert his body.

Hence the more frequent stretches, and Anakin's more frequent complaints.

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan says, and smiles when Anakin mumbles something sour. "But you're going to thank me before long."

"Sure," Anakin says to the floor, his forehead pressed to the back of his hand. His right arm is straining with the effort of keeping it up against his side, and Obi-Wan reaches out to stabilize him.

"Don't," Anakin spits out, and flinches away. The movement causes his hips to tip forward, breaking his balance, and he lands face first on the mat underneath him.

"Anakin, I'm so sorry," Obi-Wan hurries to help him up, tries not to look at the tears in his eyes.

"I'm fine," he says curtly, and gets his hand underneath him to stabilize himself. Obi-Wan scoots back and watches as his legs loosen out of the stretch and close, sweat making the short curls at the back of Anakin's neck stick to his skin.

"We can do this again later," Obi-Wan says, trying to sound reassuring. Anakin just shrugs and won't look him in the eye. He has his legs drawn up, knees against his chest, and he looks younger than he has in years.

Obi-Wan lays a tentative hand on his wrist, counts it as a success when Anakin doesn't immediately draw away. He starts rubbing small circles into his skin, first the back of his hand, then his palm when Anakin opens his clenched fingers.

It does the trick.

"Master?" Anakin whispers, then looks around to make sure they're alone.

"Yes, dear one?"

A blush spreads on Anakin's face at that, all the way down to his chest. Instead of speaking again, he scrambles forward, practically falls into Obi-Wan's lap, and is kissing him before Obi-Wan can stop him. He slips his tongue into Anakin's mouth, licks along his teeth and grabs a fistful of Anakin's tunics. Anakin follows his lead, hoists himself up until he's straddling Obi-Wan and presses their cocks together.

"Stars," Obi-Wan mutters, one eye on the door. They booked the gym for two hours, but that doesn't mean that everyone else would just magically be barred from entry. They shouldn't be doing this, at least not here. But then Anakin kisses him again, his hand in Obi-Wan's hair, and he forgets for a moment that they have to be careful. A spike of adrenaline shoots through his body when Anakin pulls his hair and mouths along his jaw.

"What do you want, Anakin?"

"Can I sit on your face?"

He says this so earnestly that Obi-Wan just stares at him for a moment. Normally, he has to coax these things out of Anakin, but as the seconds pass, he realizes that he likes this side of him.

"Of course, darling," he says softly, and lays back down on the training mat. Helping Anakin out of his leggings, he cups his ass and squeezes it a few times before he says, "Turn around. That way you can watch what your little hole is doing to my cock."

Anakin mewls but does as he's told, and finally sits back until Obi-Wan can bury his face between his cheeks. He spreads him apart and kisses him first, a few quick, loud smacks that he knows Anakin likes. And sure enough, he starts to squirm on top of Obi-Wan, his hand on his stomach for balance.

"Master, please," he gasps, and Obi-Wan obliges him, holds his hips in place and licks along his rim, feeling Anakin clench and relax almost rhythmically. Obi-Wan hums against his skin and narrows his tongue, but Anakin is not quite ready. So he takes his time opening him up, loosening his muscles, and he savors every second of it. When Anakin leans forward to rub his cock through his trousers, Obi-Wan moans against him and finally slips his tongue into Anakin's hole.

"Fuck, Obi-Wan, do that again, please," he moans, and tries to fuck himself on his Master's tongue. Obi-Wan steadies him and obeys, licking and kissing along his rim before dipping inside again, groaning when Anakin shudders and grabs his cock harder, squeezes, and finally spits on his palm to properly stroke his length. Obi-Wan bucks in his grasp and Anakin almost falls over, but Obi-Wan doesn't let him go, grips his waist hard enough to bruise.

"That's it, Anakin," he murmurs after coming up for air, bites Anakin's cheek before sucking a red mark into the spot. "Be good and make me come for you. After that I'll take care of your little cock." And he cups Anakin's erection, fondling him as he goes back to eating him out.

As soon as he feels Anakin begin to struggle against him again, grinding his ass into Obi-Wan's face, Obi-Wan is gracious enough to help him out. He fucks lazily into Anakin's fist, every stroke made deliciously smooth by Anakin's spit and his own precome. The sounds they're making push Obi-Wan closer and closer to orgasm, and he comes with a groan muffled against Anakin's quivering hole.

His fingers on Anakin's cock tighten, and it doesn't take long for Anakin to finish all over Obi-Wan's hand, grinding down on his face until he has calmed down a bit. Obi-Wan teases him with a few more small kisses, and smiles to himself.

One way or another, Anakin did manage to let some of his tension go.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are as always very much appreciated. Say hi or send a prompt on tumblr!

Chapter 13: dubcon (vaderwan)

Summary:

i talked to george lucas and he sent me this early draft of the mustafar scenes
additional tags: oral sex, inappropriate use of a lightsaber

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Anakin?"

Obi-Wan hates the sound of his own voice, its quiet, almost reverent hush. He should be assertive, stand his ground. This is what he followed Anakin to Mustafar for: confront him, and bring him back. After the holo, he wasn't sure whether he'd really be able to do it, but now, face to face, Obi-Wan feels some of his conviction return.

But some might not be enough.

"Why do you sound so surprised?" Anakin drawls, the orange in his eyes giving his entire face a sickly pallor. Obi-Wan searches for a hint of familarity, any trace of the boy he knew, but Anakin might just as well be wearing a mask.

He doesn't know where to begin. The younglings? Padmé, alone on Coruscant with her worry eating her alive? The Temple and everything it stands for burning, and all his friends killed?

What comes out takes even himself aback. "You can't do this to me."

It's the last thing a Jedi would say, but in this moment, he is simply a man with a broken heart.

A shadow flits over Anakin's features, quick as lightning. "Spare me, Master," he says, and the honorific sounds like an insult. Obi-Wan deserves it. "I know you're trying to trick me to come back with you."

"Trick you? Anakin, I'm here to help you."

"I don't need your help. I have everything right here," Anakin says, and gestures around at the empty throne room where Obi-Wan found him. Then his eyes narrow. "Though there is one thing you could do for me."

"Anything," Obi-Wan blurts out.

"Really? You see that?" he asks after a disbelieving pause, points to the black chair. "There's room for another one."

Obi-Wan stares at him. The implication is too vile to even think about, but he can't help himself, pictures what he imagines Anakin's vision to be. He sees orange eyes meeting orange, as if they're both looking into a mirror.

"I thought so," Anakin says disdainfully. "I knew you wouldn't understand. You never listened to me before, so why would you start now?"

Obi-Wan's heart feels like it's about to be torn to pieces. "Anakin, please," he manages, and tracks the change that comes over his Padawan at the words.

"Say that again."

"Please." He hesitates for only a fraction of a second.

"Again."

"Please."

"Get on your knees. Show me how much you really care."

"Anakin, I don't—"

"Please." He tilts his head with a mocking imitation of Obi-Wan's expression.

Obi-Wan lets his body sink to the floor, blood rushing to his head. You never listened to me before, so why would you start now? Was this it, then? Everything they went through together, thrown away in a single sentence? No, he thinks. If he can give Anakin this, there is still a chance. It's a warped and twisted path, but if he tries, he can make himself see them both through.

Anakin takes two steps forward, reaches out to tip Obi-Wan's head back. Then he trails two fingers along his temple, down his cheek and towards his mouth. Obi-Wan opens up before he can think twice about it.

"Is this what you had in mind when you followed me here?" Anakin asks and pushes his fingers between Obi-Wan's lips. He takes them, shakes his head. "But you have thought about it before." It's not a question.

Heat rises to Obi-Wan's face, and this time he nods. Anakin's eyes narrow.

"And you never did anything." He presses harder into the inside of Obi-Wan's cheek before drawing back. "Never said anything."

He reaches out with the Force and pulls Obi-Wan's lightsaber from his belt, into his open hand.

"Did you think you could beat me? Really?" His tone is dripping with venom, anger, hatred. Eyes flashing, he ignites the saber, spins it lazily until the blade rests just a finger's breadth from Obi-Wan's neck. "Answer me," he snaps.

"What do you want to hear?" Obi-Wan feels some of his courage return, and he meets Anakin's gaze head on. "That I came here to kill you?"

Anakin laughs, an ugly, broken sound. "Yes," he says, deactivates the saber. "That's better."

As if lost in thought, he trails the hilt across Obi-Wan's face, down his cheek and over his lips.

"Open up," he says, adding, "Now," when Obi-Wan doesn't react.

"Anakin," he tries to say, but he uses the opportunity to push the saber into Obi-Wan's mouth. He gags around it, his eyes watering almost instantly. Anakin keeps his thumb on the trigger, and it's the only thing Obi-Wan can focus on. He could die any moment, at the hand of the only man he ever truly loved. He doesn't know if any of this is readable on his face, and Anakin doesn't seem to care much.

"That's right," he murmurs, a fascinated look in his eyes. "You play with fire, and you get burned, Obi-Wan."

And he begins to move, the saber slipping deeper down Obi-Wan's throat with every thrust. He closes his eyes, tries to keep even one shred of dignity, but Anakin is having none of it. He fucks his mouth until Obi-Wan is drooling around it, only pulls back when a moan, quiet but unmistakable, slips out of him.

"I knew it," Anakin says simply, and after one last deep shove, he draws his hand away and throws the saber to the side, its clatter too loud in the cavernous room. Obi-Wan wants to crawl back to his ship; he wants to stay and beg Anakin to come to his senses. Of course, he does neither. He just kneels there and waits.

Anakin seems undecided for a moment before he sneers and takes a step forward, crowding him in. Grabbing Obi-Wan's hair, he yanks his head back and pulls out his cock with his free hand.

Suddenly there are bells ringing in his head. "Anakin, wait—"

"I've waited long enough," Anakin mutters and prods his lips with the tip; he's leaking and half-hard already. Obi-Wan closes his eyes but he doesn't get a chance to pull away. Anakin tightens his fingers in his hair and he gasps before Anakin shoves his cock into Obi-Wan's mouth. He isn't big, but this is wrong on so many levels that Obi-Wan instinctively tries to draw back.

"You said anything," Anakin reminds him, rocking his hips forward. Obi-Wan grabs onto his thighs for support, and Anakin is right, he did say that, and so he lets it happen. He lets his former Padawan use his mouth, lets him call him a whore and a liar and disgusting old man. Lets him come on his face and spit in his mouth when Anakin is done.

And then Obi-Wan lets him leave him kneeling there, on the floor of a throne room surrounded by the fires of Mustafar. He doesn't stand up.

Notes:

thank you for reading!!

Chapter 14: lingerie

Summary:

prompt requested by anon, thank you!
additional tags: modern au, bottom obi-wan. inspo for the lingerie.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Okay, now that we have that sorted out, do you think we should do blue or red for the main color? Obi-Wan?"

Ahsoka's voice interrupts his train of thought; Obi-Wan smiles apologetically and clears his throat.

"Blue, I think. It matches the cake."

"Ohh, you're right. Show me the inspo again, then I can pick a shade for the decor."

Obi-Wan quickly exits the tab he still has open on his laptop. The last thing he needs right now is Ahsoka asking him why he was browsing for lingerie. Once he's safe and she is typing away on the keyboard, Obi-Wan goes back to his own plans for Anakin's birthday. He finally caved and inwardly battled the side of him that refused, on some shaky principle, to ever even consider putting on a thong and a bralette just because Anakin wanted him to.

But then he saw how Anakin reacted while they were watching Some Like It Hot (a rookie mistake, Obi-Wan thinks in hindsight; they could have started Anakin's classic Hollywood journey with something less flamboyant), and something inside Obi-Wan had shifted.

And now here he is, torn between two sets of women's underwear. One is a combination piece, black lace and a dainty little excuse for a bra. But the details are intricate and, if he cares to admit it, beautiful.

The other has been stuck in Obi-Wan's brain since he first saw it online. It's a blue body, the neckline plunging down to the belly button, with a faux leather belt around the waist, and a collar. A collar that he could thread a piece of rope through, connect it to the rest of the garment, and have Anakin pull the thing with his teeth until he—

"Oh wow, look at that! It's perfect, right?" Ahsoka looks at him, and for one second Obi-Wan is sure that she knows what he was just thinking about. Waving his paranoia aside, Obi-Wan leans over to look at the color she picked.

Anakin's birthday really can't come fast enough.


They're saying goodbye to the last guests when Anakin leans in and whispers in Obi-Wan's ear, "Why are you fidgeting so much?"

Fully aware of the flush creeping up his face, Obi-Wan smiles at Rex and Quinlan on their way to their cars, pretends that everything is normal. As if the thin material of the body isn't stuck to him like a second skin, because yes, he chose to wear it all night instead of changing when they were alone, and it's stupid, stupid, stupid what he did, but there's really no going back now, is there?

"Later," he murmurs, then calls out, "See you next week!" to Vos, and that's it. Anakin closes the door with a final sounding click, and they're alone.

"I'll go and tidy this up a bit," Obi-Wan hurries to say, and vanishes into the kitchen before Anakin can open his mouth again.

"Hey, wait," he hears Anakin behind him, presses his lips together as he rearranges some plates and glasses without rhyme or reason. "What's going on?"

Anakin is rarely this considerate, so it gives Obi-Wan pause. After a deep breath in, he turns around and meets his eyes.

"I have another surprise for you," he forces out, watches as Anakin's pupils dilate ever so slightly.

"Oh?"

Without another word, Obi-Wan decides to just take the plunge. He lifts the hem of his cashmere sweater, just an inch or two, but it's enough. Anakin's mouth falls open.

"Obi-Wan," he manages, swats his hand away to reveal more of the lace himself. He groans when he sees the little belt, fingers the material around Obi-Wan's hip almost reverently. Then he pulls Obi-Wan's sweater over his head, and Obi-Wan doesn't know what he expected, because this is Anakin, after all, but it wasn't this.

Anakin just stares. He's not immediately all over him like a starving man; instead, he looks as if he turned to stone.

"Darling?" Obi-Wan tries, embarrassed at how scratchy his voice sounds. He clears his throat, tries again. "Anakin, we can—"

"No."

"What?"

"Take the rest off. Slowly," he commands, and Obi-Wan complies immediately, without thinking. He strips down until there's only the body left, which does nothing to conceal his perked nipples or his half hard cock. Anakin is palming himself through his own trousers, eyes glassy as he drinks Obi-Wan in. When he's done, Obi-Wan leans back against the kitchen island and laughs nervously.

"Happy birthday, dear one," he says breathlessly, and then Anakin is on him, his hands in Obi-Wan's hair, exposing his neck, and Anakin latches onto him as if he was afraid that Obi-Wan might vanish at any moment. His cock digs into Obi-Wan's hip, and he ruts against him a few times, sucking a mark into Obi-Wan's skin.

"Thank you," Anakin whispers in his ear, one hand now roaming all over Obi-Wan's chest and stomach. "This is the best fucking gift I've ever gotten."

"I'm glad you—Christ," Obi-Wan moans when Anakin grabs him, his cock already so sensitive after the thin lace pressing against it all day.

"Fuck, Obi-Wan, look at you, so pretty like that." He pushes two fingers into Obi-Wan's mouth, gets them wet before he turns him around and exposes his hole. "Have you played with yourself today?" he asks, patting his rim.

"No," Obi-Wan says through gritted teeth, then hangs his head with a choked off groan when Anakin bites his shoulder as he pushes one finger in, holding him open with his other hand, his grip like iron on Obi-Wan's ass.

"Good," Anakin breathes, "I want you to really feel it."

He fingers him open until Obi-Wan begs him to stop and fuck him, until he's leaking so much that the blue lace looks almost black against his abandoned cock.

"I thought it was my birthday," Anakin says with a low laugh, but he grazes his prostate one last time before he pulls away. "But I think you're right. Turn around."

Obi-Wan does, and Anakin helps him up onto the island, spreading his legs to stand between them. Anakin hooks one finger into the collar to pull Obi-Wan's head up, makes him watch as he takes out his cock, spits on his hand and uses only saliva and precome to slick himself up.

He doesn't allow Obi-Wan's head to fall back as he starts fucking him, keeps his finger between the collar and Obi-Wan's skin. His neck begins to ache, but it's nothing compared to the feeling of Anakin inside him, slow, deep strokes that make his toes curl and his spine arch.

"Anakin," he moans, and he understands, goes faster just how Obi-Wan likes it, and he leans over Obi-Wan's body to trap his cock between their stomachs.

"Can you come without touching yourself?" Anakin asks after what feels like hours. His movements are getting more erratic by the second.

"I think so—yes, yes, fuck, just keep going like that, please," Obi-Wan forces out, then gasps when Anakin leans down to mouth at his nipple. He sucks it between his lips, pinches the other between two fingers, and pushes as deep into Obi-Wan as he can go.

He only has time to moan Anakin's name once before he comes, his trapped cock soiling the underwear, his hole clenching around Anakin mercilessly. Anakin fucks him through it and doesn't take long to follow him over the edge. He slumps on top of Obi-Wan when as he's coming down, lazily fucking his come into him and playing with Obi-Wan's hair.

"Happy birthday, darling," Obi-Wan whispers in his ear, even as he feels as if he is the one who just got a present.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are as always very much appreciated. Say hi or send a prompt on tumblr!

Chapter 15: spanking

Summary:

prompt requested by anon: obi-wan giving anakin beard burn + spanking
additional tags: spanking as punishment, anakin is not a padawan anymore but they like to use the master/padawan titles in bed because they're weird <3

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Anakin knows he messed up.

In his defense, he's done more stupid things than cut negotiations short with the threat of pulling a few strings in the Chancellor's office to bully Sacorria's government to comply with a trade agreement. He could have used his lightsaber, or stationed a few of his men on the planet to keep local officials in check. But the representatives begged to differ, considered his behavior completely unacceptable, and now he and his troops are stuck in what essentially amounts to house arrest, waiting for Obi-Wan to come and pick them up.

He feels his former Master's presence before Obi-Wan can so much as knock on his door. The Force is thrumming with his anger, annoyance, and frustration at having to waste time on something like this. But Anakin is ready to defend himself, feels prepared for anything that Obi-Wan might throw at him.

What he didn't count on was a stony-faced Obi-Wan, his exterior completely at odds with what he is currently trying to release into the Force.

"Master?" Anakin asks instinctively.

"Padawan?"

It's his I don't have the patience for anything other than the truth voice, and Anakin swallows.

"I just did what I thought was best in the moment, all right?" he says through gritted teeth.

"Oh, you thought, hm? What a development." His tone is like ice.

"What would you have done better?" Anakin blurts out before he can reconsider. He watches Obi-Wan raise an eyebrow, and knows he messed up again.

"Excuse me?"

"I didn't mean—" He starts, then some of his courage seeps back into his body. "No, tell me. What was I supposed to do here?" He stands up, waves his arm to encompass Sacorria in general.

"To begin with, you should have proposed any measure to either me or another Master before acting on it," Obi-Wan says, immediately in lecture mode. "Then you shouldn't have pulled the Chancellor into this. Anakin, don't you realize how much damage you could have done here, diplomatically?"

"At least something happened," he murmurs petulantly, and Obi-Wan lets out a sigh. Then he locks the door behind him.

Alarm bells go off in Anakin's head, and he takes a step back. "What are you doing?"

"Get on the bed," Obi-Wan says coolly, and Anakin obeys immediately. Heat floods his entire body when he realizes what is happening, and despite the overall bantha shit situation, he grins as he positions himself the way he knows Obi-Wan wants him to. Ass in the air, his weight supported on his elbows, he waits.

"Oh? Will you look at that," Obi-Wan says. "Imagine if I had something else in mind."

"No, Master, please."

"You're asking to be spanked?" The mock surprise is grating on Anakin, but he nods.

"Please," he repeats before he feels the mattress dip underneath Obi-Wan and two strong hands cup his ass.

"Is it really an effective punishment if you want it?" he muses, squeezing. Anakin hums. "I'll have to think of something different for next time. But I'll indulge you today."

He starts by lightly massaging Anakin's cheeks and digging his thumbs into the muscle. Anakin arches his spine, rocks his hips backwards, but Obi-Wan stops him.

"Don't get too eager, Anakin," he murmurs. Then he whacks him with the back of his hand, twice on both sides, and not hard. But it's enough to make Anakin's cock twitch in his pants. If Obi-Wan notices, he doesn't seem to care.

His fingers are more insistent now, their movements bordering on painful. When he pinches the flesh between Anakin's ass and thigh, Anakin yelps, but the sound quickly turns into a moan as soon as Obi-Wan pushes his tunics up and pulls his trousers down. Cold air hits his skin before Obi-Wan's hands are back on him.

Slap.

Obi-Wan's calloused palms and fingers sting more than Anakin remembers; but it's been too long since they did this. The sensation is still the same, and Anakin's reaction still embarrassingly obvious.

"Master," he moans after the second slap, on the same spot. He already can't wait to go in the fresher tomorrow and see the marks on his ass, red and angry, but his. His and Obi-Wan's.

"Are you going to behave like that again?" Obi-Wan asks, switches sides to swat at his other cheek.

"No?" Anakin says around a groan.

Slap. Slap.

"Is that a question?"

Three quick smacks, each one harder than the last.

"I—no, no I won't, Master."

"Do you know what happens when you do?"

The next one hits his hole; Anakin didn't even realize that Obi-Wan was spreading him apart far enought to reach it.

"Fuck, again, please," he pants, dropping his head between his forearms.

"Answer—" Slap. "My—" Slap. "Question." The last one is the hardest yet, and Anakin curses in Huttese, lurches forward, but all this does is make Obi-Wan's access to his hole easier. His thumb drags across it roughly, massaging his rim, and Anakin wants to cry.

"I do," he forces out, "I know what happens."

"Good. Because if we have to do this a third time, I might not be so nice."

And without warning, he licks across Anakin's entrance, his beard scraping against the sensitive skin.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin moans, struggling against him, the friction too much and yet not enough all at once.

But his Master ignores him and eats him out as if this is part of the punishment. His tongue is prodding against his rim relentlessly, trying to loosen him up, but Anakin is too distracted to even try and relax enough for Obi-Wan to push it in. So Obi-Wan switches it up, kisses along his cheeks and over his hole again and again, squeezing Anakin's thighs and ass roughly. When he sucks Anakin's balls into his mouth, he slaps him again.

"Fuck, Master, I'm gonna come if you keep doing that, please don't fucking stop," he babbles, his cock leaking onto the bedsheets beneath him. His skin feels raw, and every movement of Obi-Wan's lips or tongue against it sends sparks zinging down his spine.

"You will?" Obi-Wan asks in a low voice. Anakin is smug enough to have enough presence of mind to congratulate himself; after all, it's him that has this effect on Obi-Wan. "Without touching yourself?"

Anakin's hand stops halfway to his cock. He swallows, gasps when Obi-Wan peppers him with stinging kisses again.

"Yeah," he manages, "I think so."

"Good," Obi-Wan murmurs, and his tone makes Anakin fear the worst. "But only after I tell you to. Now spread your cheeks like a good boy, Padawan."

Notes:

Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are as always very much appreciated. Say hi or send a prompt on tumblr!

Chapter 16: mommy kink (obiluke)

Summary:

prompt requested by anon, thank you so much!!
additional tags: handjob, premature ejaculation. also they are weirddddd

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Luke!"

Aunt Beru's voice is already faint by the time she calls out to him. Frustration bubbling in his stomach, Luke walks on through the sand.

"Luke Skywalker, I know you can hear me. If you're not back by tomorrow at seven bells sharp, you'll be grounded for a month. That means no trips to Tosche Station, and no meetings with Biggs, either!"

This almost has him stop in his tracks. Almost. But he squares his shoulders, and continues on his way.


There are only two cantinas in Anchorhead, and out of both of them, Luke will pick Lev's over The Ditch every day. At Lev's there is better music, and the bar is cleaner. And sometimes, like today, he sees Ben Kenobi sitting alone in a corner. He always has two drinks exactly, leaves as soon as he is done with the second one, and never acknowledges Luke with anything more than a glance in his direction. But there's something so warm in his eyes whenever Luke catches him looking, a feeling he once described to a friend as 'motherly', and it's there again tonight. Ben smiles at him; a novelty, and Luke absentmindedly smiles back.

"Come on," Laze is saying, pulling Luke out of his reverie and his attention away from Ben. "Do you think she was serious?"

"She always is," Luke mumbles, and feels sorrier for himself by the minute. Camie and Laze exchange a look.

"Just talk to her tomorrow, and I'm sure you'll sort it all out," Camie says encouragingly. "She loves you, you know?"

"Yeah, well, she's not my mother, so." Luke lets the sentence go unfinished, and it hangs awkwardly in the air between them.

"Another round," Laze calls out to the bartender, breaking the tension, and Luke tries to smile at his friend. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees movement at one of the other tables, and he forces himself not to look.


"Get home safe, alright?" Camie says as she squeezes Luke's arm outside the cantina, and he nods. There's no way he will go back to the farm tonight, but it's better that they see him leave in the general direction at least.

"See you soon," he says just before they round a corner on the other side of the street, and Laze waves over his shoulder, his other arm slung around Camie's waist. Luke stares daggers at their backs until they're out of sight, then digs the toe of his boot in the ground and sighs.

"Long day?"

He starts at the voice behind him, and feels his head spin when he turns around to see Ben Kenobi standing there, a smile playing around his lips again.

"Ah, well, yeah. Got into a bit of trouble with my aunt," Luke confesses, the alcohol loosening his tongue.

"Nothing serious I hope?"

"No, just something about my application to the Academy again," he says sourly, frowns when he sees Ben's face cloud over for a moment. "The usual."

"Sorry to hear that," Ben says. "Are you sure you're good to go home alone?"

"I'm not drunk, if that's what you mean."

"Of course not."

He waits, but Ben doesn't say anything else.

"But it's dark."

"It is." A pause. "Come on, then. I'll get you a glass of water, and something to eat."


They didn't talk much on their way to The Ditch, and now that Luke is in a small room overlooking the dunes south of Anchorhead, he finds he can't shut up.

"Why doesn't Lev's have rooms like this?" he says, realizing only a second later how petulant he sounds.

"Maybe they don't think it's worth the competition," Ben says. He's sitting at a small table across from Luke, who is leaning back on his elbows on the bed, his feet dragging the floor. Whenever Luke looks up, Ben is watching him. He swallows.

"Maybe," he agrees. "And thank you, by the way. I don't think I'm going to go home tonight."

"Luke," Ben says, concern in his eyes. "What happened?"

He doesn't know where to start. Undecided, he opens his mouth, thinks better of it, closes it again only to finally say, "Aunt Beru doesn't understand. All of my friends are allowed to apply to the Academy except me. All of them have more free time than me. They even have girlfriends! It just—it isn't fair," he finishes. "And she's not even my mom."

He doesn't know why he keeps harping back to this point, but he does. Ben shifts in his seat.

"No," he says. "No, she isn't."

Something in his voice gives Luke pause, even through the thin haze of drink. He looks at Ben more intently.

"Did you know her? My real mother, I mean?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Nothing," Luke quickly retorts, memories of him pretending every man Uncle Owen's age or older that he met was his actual father cropping up before he can stop them. Ben, for some reason, took that spot more than the rest. Luke's face heats up, and Ben looks away from him.

"I think I should let you get some rest," he says, and panic grabs hold of Luke.

"No, I—stay, please?"

For a second, Luke is convinced that Ben will say no, that he'll reprimand him and just leave. But he looks at him again with that thing in his eyes that is impossible for Luke to decipher.

"All right," Ben concedes. "But only until you fall asleep."


Luke stirs in the middle of the night. He doesn't know where he is at first, is only conscious that he isn't alone in the room. Shifting, he groans as he feels his neck stiff from where he slept, half sitting up in a narrow bed. Then it comes back to him: his argument with his aunt, Lev's. Laze and Camie, and later Ben Kenobi.

He squints to see Ben curled up on the bed next to him, breathing softly. His mouth his half open, and his hair hangs in his face; all in all, not a very attractive picture. Luke doesn't even question the fact that they're sharing a bed; it feels too nice to really care. Turning his back to Ben, he tries to go back to sleep. After a few minutes, he hears Ben shift.

"Anakin?" he murmurs softly, and Luke feels his hand at his hip, warm and comforting.

"What?" is all he can manage as a reply.

Ben moves again, the mattress rustling beneath his weight. "Anakin," he says again, his hand riding higher, across Luke's chest. "Mommy missed you." An almost violent shiver runs through Luke's entire body, and he lets out a soft whimper.

"Mommy?" he says, in a small voice; it feels so good that he doesn't even think of taking it back.

"It's all right," Ben whispers in his ear, his hand going lower, lower, and lower, until he's palming Luke through his trousers, starts to stroke him slowly and with so much care that Luke wants to cry. He lets a moan fall out of his mouth when Ben's cock presses against his ass. "I can take care of that for you."

"Please," he says again, and then Ben dips his hand inside his trousers, his calloused fingers closing around Luke's length and making him see stars. Grey light begins to fill the room, and with a pang, Luke remembers Aunt Beru's threat from yesterday. He groans, and Ben shushes him.

"I'm here for you, don't worry," he says soothingly, and Luke relaxes against him, sighs when Ben gently squeezes him. "Mommy is here for you, Anakin."

Luke is leaking enough precome that the friction is perfect from the start; he must have had a wet dream to get to this point, or maybe it's just Ben's presence, and the things he is whispering in Luke's ear.

"You feel so good darling, so nice and wet for mommy already. I missed you so, so much, your little cock and your sweet hole."

Luke barely has a chance to wonder if Ben is still asleep or if he is hallucinating this before he feels the tightness in his stomach crescendo, and he's coming. There's no room for embarrassment, at least not yet; Ben is stroking him through it, and Luke can't bring himself to feel sorry for finishing so quickly.

"Mommy," he moans when Ben doesn't let him go, and then he feels his lips at the nape of his neck.

"Yes, Anakin, my sweet boy, you did so well, coming so prettily for mommy. Now let mommy feel good as well, hm?"

And Luke is convinced he must be dreaming, because suddenly, Ben's fingers feel like they're everywhere, and his brain is too slow to catch up to the sensations. But again, he doesn't really give it much thought, not when it feels this good to be taken care of by his mommy.

And at this point, he also just accepts that whoever Anakin really is, he must have messed up royally to lose this.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are as always very much appreciated. Say hi or send a prompt on tumblr!

Chapter 17: nipple piercings

Summary:

what it says on the tin + blowjob. also i don't have nipple piercings myself, this is based on google and a friend of mine (also three cheers for sw medical lore, because these bad boys healed FAST)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Anakin, what have you done?"

His Master's voice floats into Anakin's awareness like a warm breeze, cozy and sweet despite the exasperation in his tone. Anakin smiles as the image of Obi-Wan spreading a pair of wings to lift up into the sky pops into his head; an angel, or just a massive bird startled into flight.

"Your feathers look so soft," he slurs without opening his eyes.

"Stars below," Obi-Wan murmurs, and a moment later Anakin feels a calloused hand on his forehead. He sighs contentedly at the touch, and arches his neck to press deeper into it. "Just drunk, then."

"Hey," Anakin says when the hand disappears, and opens his eyes to see who stole it. This is a mistake. The whole room is spinning around him, walls closing in before expanding until he would swear that they're in a palace. Then they contract again, and suddenly Obi-Wan is there, solid and real.

"What happened?" Obi-Wan asks, and Anakin opens his mouth to respond, trying to stop the nausea from crashing in on him. He remembers something about a bar, no, two bars. Rex was there, he thinks, and someone named Seelie or Salie. She was beautiful, and there was something she said to him that had made him follow her to a place where she—

"Oh," Anakin manages before his eyes fall shut. The room is still unstable, but this isn't as bad as before. One of his hands clumsily reaches for his own chest, and he starts when he feels something hard underneath his tunic.

He opens his eyes again and tries to sit up; another mistake, worse than before. A second after he meets Obi-Wan's gaze, Anakin lurches sideways just in time to avoid throwing up all over his Master's lap. He doesn't hear Obi-Wan's next words; he's out cold as soon as his head hits the pillow.


When he wakes up next, it's to the familiar smell of tea and spice that will always mean quiet afternoons spent in Obi-Wan's apartments. Anakin cautiously opens one eye, then the other, and when the walls stay where they are, he pushes himself up underneath the covers. He's lying in Obi-Wan's bed. Why is he lying in Obi-Wan's bed?

The bars, Rex, Seela. That was her name.

Then stumbling here, something about a bird, and the smell of vomit. His ears burn as he remembers the last moments before falling asleep, and despite the warmth of the bed, he makes himself get up and pad into the living area.

"Obi-Wan?" he calls out after a quick glance at the chrono. Mid afternoon, so it stands to reason that his Master is awake and around somewhere.

He hears scuffling in the kitchen, then Obi-Wan's face appears from around the door. "You're still alive," he says drily, and motions for Anakin to sit down at the small table.

"I am?" Anakin retorts, and sits. His head is pounding, and he doesn't remember ever having been thirstier than right now. Obi-Wan wordlessly hands him a glass of water, which Anakin downs in two gulps.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like bantha shit."

Obi-Wan smiles, and Anakin narrows his eyes at him. There's a look on his face that he doesn't like; as if Anakin spilled some juicy secret last night, or did something even more embarrassing than throw up all over Obi-Wan's floor. "What?" he asks.

"How is this?" Obi-Wan points at Anakin's chest, and he frowns down as he checks to see what Obi-Wan means.

"Fuck," Anakin groans as he remembers. Seela took him to a beauty or a tattoo parlor last night, he doesn't recall the official name. Only she wasn't a tattoo artist.

Without having to look, Anakin knows that there is a delicate chain hanging down between his pecs, connecting two golden ornaments piercing his nipples with a necklace Obi-Wan bought him on a whim a few months ago. Now that his attention is on them, he can feel their pressure, the cool metal of the chain barely perceptible but certainly there.

"Let me see."

"What?"

"Take off your shirt. Please, Anakin."

Obi-Wan must know that there is very little Anakin wouldn't do when he uses this tone with him. It's unfair the way it works almost every time. It shouldn't make him hard, either, but he swallows as he obeys, spreading his legs as he drops the shirt to relieve some of the discomfort.

"How pretty," Obi-Wan says, tracing the chain with one finger. Goosebumps spread all over Anakin's skin, and he hisses when Obi-Wan gives the thing just the slightest tug.

"You're not supposed to, um, play with them until—fuck."

"Until what?" Obi-Wan asks innocently, as if he didn't just graze one of Anakin's nipples with a short thumbnail.

"I don't remember, but I think I need to put on some more bacta gel." His voice sounds weak to his own ears, and Obi-Wan doesn't buy the lie anymore than Anakin believes it himself.

"So you didn't come here last night to show them off?"

Heat rises all the way from Anakin's chest to his face. Obi-Wan isn't looking at him, occupied with rubbing his fingertips over the other piercing until Anakin lets out a choked off moan.

"Please," he manages to say, and Obi-Wan grins at him.

"Please—?"

"Suck me off, please, Master, I promise you can keep doing this," he nods down to Obi-Wan's hands, "just please make me come."

"Ah," Obi-Wan says, and for one horrible second, Anakin thinks he might get up and leave him here. But a wave of something like compassion crosses his face, and he kneels between Anakin's legs, and when he finally pulls his pants down to free his aching cock, Anakin feels tears prick in the corners of his eyes.

Groping his chest as he swallows him down, Obi-Wan makes quick work of giving Anakin what he wants; he comes in less than two minutes, half embarrassed but mostly relieved.

"Thank you," he sighs, but one look at Obi-Wan tells him he's not done.

He hooks one finger around the chain and pulls until Anakin is on the floor as well, the sting just this side of bearable.

"Now," Obi-Wan says, "let's see if we can't do something else about this, and use the bacta more wisely." And taking the chain between his teeth, he pushes Anakin down and one of his legs up and around his own hip, the sensation sharp and clear as glass. Anakin hums as he feels two slicked up fingers stroking his hole, and when Obi-Wan pushes them in, he lifts his head just a fraction.

Those quiet afternoons really have always been for other Jedi.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are as always very much appreciated. Say hi or send a prompt on tumblr!

Chapter 18: first time

Summary:

prompt requested by anon: obi-wan finds anakin's secret dildo stash, discovers he's a size queen, and goes on to prove the real thing is still better (and maybe even bigger)
additional tags: first time (between them)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan always knew that Anakin had a tendency to clutter, because even as a Padawan, when he barely had any possessions of his own, his things would always begin to spill over onto Obi-Wan's furniture, or end up in his drawers instead of Anakin's, where they belonged. But this is just so much worse than he remembers.

All he wanted was to find a robe Anakin asked him to grab while he was still busy with something on the ship. It could have been a thing of two minutes instead of the ten Obi-Wan has already spent in his rooms.

"Stars below, Anakin," he mutters to himself as he begins to go over everything again.

It's this really dark reddish brown color, you can't miss it.

Hilarious. Apparently Anakin doesn't know just what Obi-Wan is capable of.

As he's opening one small drawer for the third time, he spots something new: a box, half hidden beneath what looks like the robe he's searching for. Obi-Wan wrinkles his nose. It's brown all right, but there's no hint of red that he can see. Lifting it out, he accidentally dislodges the box's lid, and almost drops the robe to the floor.

"Oh, Force," he says, and has to suppress a laugh. There are at least fifteen different sex toys stashed in there; everything from cock sleeves to vibrators to dildos. Many, many dildos. Most of them are various shades of pink, and some even have little bunny ears or tips for what Obi-Wan knows Anakin doesn't need: clit stimulation. A sharp burst of heat zings through his body as he imagines Anakin using one of them while pretending to have a pussy.

Then he sees one that should have jumped out from the start because of its shape: a double shafted, ultra realistic monster of a toy. Obi-Wan feels his blood rush in his ears at the idea of Anakin putting that inside him, stretching his hole until he can take the entire thing to the hilt.

He should just close the box, get back to the ship and hand the robe over to Anakin, forget he ever saw this. But his mind churns out more and more images of Anakin using these things, each filthier than the last. So he just stands there, rooted to the spot.

It's only when he hears footsteps outside Anakin's door that he slams the lid back onto the box, closes the drawer, and pretends that his cock isn't half hard as he makes his way back to the hangar, clutching the robe in his sweaty hands.


The mission went without a hitch, so Obi-Wan and Anakin found themselves back on the Negotiator sooner than expected. Obi-Wan already talked to the rest of the Council, and they were all agreed: it's only logical to give them three days of leave for a job well done.

"Three days?" Anakin gapes almost comically, and is probably already calculating how much of that time he can spend in the company of Senator Amidala. Obi-Wan swallows the sour taste in his mouth and nods.

They're sitting across from each other in their shared officers' quarters, well away from the rest of their troops. It can get lonely on a ship this size, and they usually find themselves in the same room anyway, so Obi-Wan has all the time he wants to watch Anakin and remember what he saw in his apartments the other day.

He always suspected that Anakin liked both women and men, but to have it confirmed in this way left him feeling a bit as if he'd run headfirst into a wall. Try as he might, his thoughts involuntarily circle back to the stash, and how Anakin might use them. What would be his favorite? His first? Suddenly, a new idea pops into his head.

Has he ever actually had sex with a man, or just used his toys?

"—and then I was thinking, you know, just do what you want to do, Rex can't stop you, and—Obi-Wan?"

"Sorry?"

Anakin laughs. "Where were you just now?"

He arranges his face, but underneath, his brain is racing. "That's private," he says, and maybe his tone is a bit too harsh, because Anakin frowns.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing." He shifts in his seat, winces when he feels his cock stir. Just remembering is making him a little dizzy; a sure sign that this needs to stop. "I found your box," he blurts out without thinking.

"My what? What are you—oh," Anakin adds after an awkward pause. His cheeks are burning, and a switch flips inside of Obi-Wan.

"I didn't know you were a size queen," he practically drawls.

Anakin gapes at him. "What?"

"Don't play dumb with me. I always had my suspicions, but I didn't think you'd care that much."

"Suspicions?" Anakin asks feebly.

Obi-Wan decides to take the plunge. "You were always looking whenever we were in the fresher together. No, not just looking. Staring."

Anakin swallows, goes even more red. "Sorry?" he tries.

"Oh, so you really were?"

"Master," he says weakly, and Obi-Wan grins at the way Anakin is fidgeting with the sleeve of his robe.

Obi-Wan palms himself, watches as Anakin tracks the movement with an unmistakable hunger in his eyes.

"Do you want to compare me with your toys?" he asks, pulls his tunics to the side to show off the bulge in his pants. He feels heady, not like himself. But it feels good; so, so good.

"Are you serious?"

"Hands and knees, Anakin."

There are only two small cots in the room, barely enough space for one grown man to fit comfortably, but they manage.

"Have you done this before?" Obi-Wan asks as he's running his hands across Anakin's ass, squeezing. "Or has it always just been your toys?"

"Just the toys, I—fuck," he moans when Obi-Wan spreads him apart to lick at his hole. He takes his time to open Anakin up, kissing and sucking before he coats two fingers in bacta and fucks him open until Anakin is begging for more.

"What do you want, Anakin?" he asks just as he brushes against his prostate.

"Fuck, please give me your cock Master, please," Anakin groans, and even though Obi-Wan could get used to seeing him like this, needy and whimpering from just his fingers and his mouth, he takes pity on him.

"How does that feel?" he murmurs on the first press of his cock against Anakin's hole. "Is it as good as your dildos?" He slides in a few inches and almost sees stars himself.

"Better," Anakin manages and gasps when he sinks in deeper. "So much better."

And then Obi-Wan is buried in Anakin's ass; suddenly, he is fucking his former Padawan. A moan is ripped out of him at the thought, and his hips snap forward without his permission.

"Master," Anakin says, then lets out a high, breathy sound when Obi-Wan starts moving.

"I know," he mutters and sets up a rhythm that shuts Anakin up completely. His head is hanging down between his shoulders, and Obi-Wan's hands roam all over his back, his ass, around to his stomach. When he brushes Anakin's cock he just can't resist.

"Do you know for how long I've wanted this?" he asks breathlessly as he squeezes him. "I've thought about your tight little hole so often that I could practically feel it every time I came in my fist."

"And I—fuck, I only got the toys because of you," Anakin says, and groans when Obi-Wan hits his sweet spot again. He angles himself to do it again, and again, and again.

"You did? How sweet of you, Padawan."

"Master please, I'm so close, please make me come on your cock, please," he babbles, clenching around Obi-Wan so perfectly that he thinks he could melt.

"Only because you were so honest," Obi-Wan murmurs, and it doesn't take more than a few well placed thrusts before Anakin is crying out into the bedsheets and coming all over Obi-Wan's hand. He strokes him through it, feels his own orgasm building and building, the point of no return.

"Anakin," he moans as he finishes inside him, and now he's sure that Anakin is actually crying. Obi-Wan remembers his first time and decides to be nice; he did do exceptionally well, after all.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are as always very much appreciated. Say hi or send a prompt on tumblr!

Chapter 19: daddy kink

Summary:

what it says on the tin + prompt requested by anon: obi-wan convincing pussykin to sit on his face for the first time
additional tags: ambiguously aged anakin

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Daddy, are you sure?" Anakin hates how his voice cracks on the last word. This shouldn't be happening anymore at his age, but he's afraid that Obi-Wan likes it. To be fair, he probably likes a lot of things about Anakin that he himself despises, so his judgment is way off.

"Don't you trust me?"

"I didn't say that," Anakin quickly says, "but I don't want to hurt you."

"Darling, you'd hurt me more if you keep saying no. You know I just want to make you feel good, don't you?" Obi-Wan's voice is like a caress, and Anakin shivers.

"I do, but—I don't know, what if I break your nose or something?"

Obi-Wan laughs, and Anakin wants to crawl into a hole and hide for the rest of their leave.

"You wouldn't be able to do that even if you tried. But even if that were a possibility, then do me a favor and break it. Please, darling," he adds, trailing two fingers down Anakin's neck. They're sitting across from each other on Obi-Wan's bed, like they've done so many times before. And like so many times before, Obi-Wan asked Anakin to finally come sit on his face and let him eat his pussy until either, Anakin is coming, or (less likely), Obi-Wan has had enough.

And Anakin wants to, Force knows how much. But he's not the scrawny teenager from a few years before anymore. He's taller than his Master, for fuck's sake. Most likely stronger than him too by now, if he thinks about it.

But just thinking about Obi-Wan underneath him, Anakin's cunt pressed against his face as he's riding him makes the blood rush from his brain and down until he can feel himself getting embarrassingly wet. His tongue would feel so perfect, licking and dipping into him, and even the beard burn would be worth it.

Anakin swallows, then finally nods. "Okay," he says shakily, "okay, yes, let's—"

The rest of his sentence is swallowed up as Obi-Wan kisses him hungrily, and all Anakin can think about is how those lips are going to feel on his pussy. He moans into Obi-Wan's mouth and when they break apart, his Master loses no time in laying back on the bed, cupping Anakin's ass and pushing him forward until he's positioned just how he wants him to.

Some leftover resistance rises up inside Anakin as he's hovering a few inches above Obi-Wan's face. But all it takes is a soft, "Sit," for him to obey, and then he has to grab onto the headboard because Obi-Wan wastes no more time.

"Fuck," Anakin hisses at the first soft kisses against his folds, followed up by a broad swipe of Obi-Wan's tongue. His fingers dig into Anakin's skin, rough but perfect, keeping him in place for now.

Obi-Wan moans against him, and the vibration makes Anakin lurch forward a bit so that his clit rubs against Obi-Wan's nose. They both exhale sharply, and Anakin would laugh if Obi-Wan didn't choose this moment to pull him back so that he can suck it into his mouth.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin gasps, his thighs clamping around his Master's head like iron. He forces himself to relax just as Obi-Wan lets him go and goes back to licking along his pussy, and Anakin is shaking all over, his sweaty hands slipping where they're holding onto the bed.

After one especially toe curling kiss to his hole, Obi-Wan pushes him away from his face to say, "It's all right, darling, do what you want to do. Fuck my face, I know you want to." His voice is lower than Anakin has ever heard it, heady with lust, but Anakin hesitates.

"Daddy, can I?"

"Do it." And with that Obi-Wan flattens his tongue against him and squeezes his ass again, giving Anakin the momentum he needs. With a shudder, Anakin starts to move, and he could kick himself for waiting this long to finally agree to let Obi-Wan do this to him.

His high, erratic gasps and Obi-Wan's low breathing fill the air in the bedroom, drowning out everything else in Anakin's awareness. The only other thing he knows is Obi-Wan's soft, wet tongue prodding his hole, and his beard scraping against the skin of his inner thighs, both sensations somehow grounding him and making him feel as if his soul is about to fly out of his body.

Anakin cries out when Obi-Wan dips the tip of his tongue into him, and it's only then that Obi-Wan stops him with his hands around Anakin's waist, pushing him down so that he can go even deeper.

"Fuck, daddy, don't stop, please don't fucking stop, please," he gasps, grinding down on his Master's face without a trace of his former hesitation. Obi-Wan groans and Anakin could swear that he feels him smile against him. He fucks his tongue into him relentlessly, until Anakin is writhing on top of him, begging for more.

"More?" Obi-Wan pants when he pulls away for a moment. "Do you want your daddy's cock in your little cunt?"

"Yes, please," he manages, unable to look Obi-Wan in the face.

"You can have it, but only if you come on my face first. I want to shove my tongue inside you just as you do."

"Daddy," Anakin cries out, his body tight and shaking when Obi-Wan laps at his clit again, kissing and sucking until Anakin teeters closer and closer to his orgasm. He barely has a moment to say, "I'm coming" when it's ripped out of him, and Obi-Wan is true to his word. Anakin clenches around his tongue, rubs his fingers over his clit in quick, uncoordinated circles to keep the sensation going, his hand pressing against Obi-Wan's nose so forcefully that he thinks, for one giddy moment, that he might break it after all.

But they both come down eventually, breathing as heavily as if they'd just run for an hour. Anakin slides down until he's straddling Obi-Wan's chest, heavy lidded and warm. Obi-Wan, too, looks completely content, his thumbs massaging the meat of Anakin's thighs.

"Was that so bad?" he asks softly.

Anakin squirms, a few small aftershocks making him shiver. "You know it wasn't, daddy. It was perfect." And he reaches behind him, moans when he grabs Obi-Wan's fat cock and squeezes. "I think I deserve that, don't you?"

Obi-Wan doesn't reply; instead he flips them over and maneuvers Anakin around until he's lying on his stomach, spreads his legs to sit between them. Anakin grins into the sheets when Obi-Wan bends lower to whisper into his ear, "You do. And so does your daddy," just as he pushes into him.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are as always very much appreciated. Say hi or send a prompt on tumblr!

Chapter 20: breeding kink

Summary:

prompt requested by anon + age play (reverse master/padawan play) + forced feminization + a dash of virginity kink; bottom obi-wan

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan is watching Anakin's fingers, flesh and durasteel alike, as he's tinkering with something on R2's dome. The poor droid looks a little worse for wear after their last mission, and as annoying as the little thing can be, Obi-Wan is taking pity on him. Anakin on the other hand seems to be more annoyed than compassionate.

"Fucking hells," he murmurs as he goes over one particular spot again, a deep scratch in the material just above R2's projector lens.

"Is he going to be fine?" Obi-Wan asks, aiming for a light, joking tone, but Anakin just grunts in response.

Silence stretches between them after that, broken only by small beeping sounds and an occasional curse from Anakin. Obi-Wan is just about to get up and leave to write the mission report when Anakin says, without turning to face him, "Sorry."

Obi-Wan's face softens. "No need to apologize, dear one."


Later that night, there are still some storm clouds hanging around Anakin's face. Obi-Wan knows better than to try and pacify him with words again. Instead, he waits until they're in bed and Anakin's back is to him.

"Master?" he asks, making his voice as small as he can. In the dark room, he sees Anakin shift. "Master, are you all right?"

At first, Anakin doesn't respond. Obi-Wan holds his breath for a moment, prepared to drop the spiel and try to go to sleep when Anakin says, "No, Padawan, I'm not."

There's a dark edge to his words, and a shiver runs down Obi-Wan's spine.

"Is there anything I can do to make it better?" He reaches out and caresses Anakin's side, feels his muscles tighten and release under his touch.

"I think there is," Anakin murmurs and turns around so that they're face to face. He puts his hand on Obi-Wan's cheek, draws his thumb over his lips. Obi-Wan opens up and Anakin pushes it in, stroking his tongue and along his teeth. A low moan escapes Obi-Wan as he closes his mouth and sucks at it gently.

"Do you want to be useful for your Master?" he asks, pressing his thumb to the inside of Obi-Wan's cheek, hard.

"Mhm," he hums, then says, "Anything for my Master," when Anakin removes his finger.

"Anything?"

"Yes," he agrees, gasping as Anakin gropes at his ass, kneading the soft muscle. "I promise I'll be good for you."

Anakin lets out a groan before he kisses Obi-Wan, licking into his mouth, and slips his hand into Obi-Wan's sleeping pants at the same time. His fingers stroke over his hole roughly, their calloused tips making Obi-Wan's head spin.

"Good, Padawan," Anakin murmurs against his lips, "because I've missed your little cunt."

Obi-Wan moans at the pressure against his rim, tries to relax, but he can only concentrate on what Anakin just said.

"My cunt?" he asks, shudders again as Anakin pushes just one fingertip inside him.

"That's right," he says. "Your tight, perfect, pretty little cunt."

And with that he pulls away, sits up, and pushes Obi-Wan onto his stomach in a matter of seconds. He rubs his cock against Obi-Wan's cheeks through their clothes, but it's enough to make them both gasp, and Obi-Wan has to stop himself from rutting against the mattress.

Anakin pulls his trousers down unceremoniously, cold air hitting Obi-Wan's skin. Then his hands are on him again, spreading him apart, and Obi-Wan's heart begins to beat painfully hard against his chest. He briefly wonders if Anakin can hear it, and whether he'd care if he does.

"Look at your little virgin hole all ready for me," he says and rubs against him again. "You're just waiting for me to fill you up, aren't you, Padawan? Answer me," he says with a smack to Obi-Wan's ass when he doesn't get a response.

"Yes Master," Obi-Wan says through clenched teeth. "Please, I want your cock in my—in my cunt." A full body shudder wracks through him at the word. It's neither pleasant nor weird, but he still feels uneasy.

"You can have it," Anakin murmurs before he spits on Obi-Wan's hole. "I'll fuck your pussy until I finish in it, and when I'm done, I'll push my come up inside you with my fingers. We're going to to that again tomorrow, and then again, until I get you pregnant, Padawan. How does that sound?"

Obi-Wan can't respond, at least not verbally. Not that Anakin expects him to, because his attention is back on Obi-Wan's hole; he's fingering him with only his saliva to ease his way, cold durasteel sending sparks down Obi-Wan's spine. The sting is nothing compared to what Obi-Wan knows will be next, and his hips push into the mattress again, trying to get some friction for his aching cock.

"Hold still," Anakin says and slaps him again. "I'll decide later if you're allowed to come."

Anakin fingers him open until Obi-Wan feels completely boneless and the only sounds coming out of his mouth are broken moans and the occasional, "Master," swallowed up by the pillow underneath him.

"I love how you're struggling and needy like that," Anakin breathes into his ear before he pulls away, leaving Obi-Wan's hole gaping and clenching around nothing. Then Obi-Wan hears him spit again, and the next thing he knows, Anakin's cock is nudging him, pressing against his rim but not inside. Still, it's enough to make Obi-Wan glance over his shoulder with what he knows is a pleading look in his eyes.

Anakin is staring at a spot somewhere near Obi-Wan's right shoulder blade, his flesh hand gripping the base of his red and leaking cock. Obi-Wan swallows a moan, and Anakin snaps out of it. He leans forward, pushes Obi-Wan's face down into the mattress as he shoves his cock inside him as far as he can go in one stroke. He pulls back out, dips deeper inside, repeats this again and again until he's buried inside Obi-Wan, balls pressing up against his ass.

"Master," Obi-Wan chokes out, his back arching against the sudden feeling of being completely full, Anakin's presence an overwhelming force that centers every nerve in his body on itself.

"Yes Padawan, how do you like your tight pussy filled up with my cock? Does it feel good?" He starts moving, quick, rough thrusts that hit Obi-Wan's prostate every time without fail.

"It does," Obi-Wan says brokenly, his voice barely above a whimper. It hurts beautifully.

"You take it so well, just like the good girl you are. Good Padawans deserve to have their little virgin cunt used and stuffed full by their Master, and you're the best. I think your pussy is the best I've ever had, Obi-Wan."

He's pounding into him mercilessly, one hand still on the side of Obi-Wan's face to keep his head in place. A tear runs down Obi-Wan's nose and into the pillow, and Anakin laughs on a shaky exhale.

"Is your Master's cock making you cry? You know I won't stop until I've come in you, so don't get any ideas."

And he's true to his word. Anakin takes his time fucking him senseless, alternately groping his chest or squeezing his ass with his free hand. Obi-Wan takes it like the good Padawan he his, and his stomach tightens at every filthy word that comes out of Anakin's mouth. He's sweating and feels utterly debauched at letting himself be used like this, begins to thrash underneath Anakin when he feels himself getting closer and closer to an orgasm he knows will be harder than any in recent memory.

"Master," he moans out as Anakin sinks in as deep as he can. "Master, can I come? Please?"

"Not yet," Anakin pants, his hips already snapping against Obi-Wan more erratically. "I told you, I fill you up and then we'll see about you."

His voice cracks on the last word, and through the haze of pleasure Obi-Wan feels him as close to finishing as he is.

"Please come inside me, Master," he has the presence of mind to say, and like a miracle, Anakin does almost immediately. Obi-Wan thinks he might black out with the overwhelming feeling of Anakin rutting into him like an animal, filling him up with his come just as he promised.

"Take my come, Padawan, squeeze it all out like the little slut you are," Anakin rasps as he comes down from his high. Obi-Wan obeys, ignores his own cock where it's trapped beneath his stomach, then lets Anakin pull out without complaint. As he said, Anakin shoves two fingers into him as soon as he caught his breath, and Obi-Wan tries to get away, but Anakin is having none of it.

"We have to keep that inside, Obi-Wan," he says, "for you to get pregnant. I can't fucking wait for your tits to swell up, all pretty and leaking and for me to play with. You'd let me suck on them as well, won't you? You'll give me your milk like a good girl?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan moans, "yes, yes, please Master, please make me come, I need it, please, I—gods," he finishes on a sharp exhale, and comes without further warning or permission. Anakin fingers him through it until Obi-Wan is crying with relief, his twitching cock pressed into the mattress and his entire shaking from the overstimulation.

"Beautiful," Anakin says in a low voice. "So beautiful for your Master."

Obi-Wan closes his eyes. He basks in the warmth of Anakin's presence, happy to have been of use.

Notes:

this was fun, can you tell i'm currently ovulating?