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angelinajoulie · 3 months

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Stupid girl with perfect little cunt ༘♡ *.｡˚

ׁ ֶָ֢ ⏤͟͟͞͞☕️ ׁ ࣭ warnings ! ۪ ׁ ⊹ || Dom!Anakin × Sub!Fem!Reader, dubcon, pussy torture, orgasm denial, degrading, praising, pet names, swearing, panty stuffing, PinV, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, pain kink, dacryphilia, begging, clit play, fingering, tied hands, male masturbation. MDNI

"Oh my, what a needy pussy you got, hmmm?” Anakin coos, his fingers caress your drenched panties right over your slit. “It’s just getting wetter and wetter.”

He speaks with great amusement present in his voice, no remorse for your exhausted, writhing self; you’ve been restrained in his bed for around an hour, and all he’s doing is just edging and edging and edging... Anakin didn’t care how your wrists hurt or how your cunt trembled with each ruined orgasm; all he knew was that seeing you at his mercy made him incredibly hard, and he anticipated producing a lot of cum to stuff you full with later. But that has yet to come.

“There we go, feels good, doesn’t it?” His thumb rubs tiny circles over your covered clit, making another spark of electricity tingle your lower tummy. It felt amazing, the pain felt amazing.

“’S too much, Ani—” You cry, involuntary, trying to free your arms from the tight rope he’s bound you with.

“Yeah, baby, keep begging like that.” He rolls his eyes at your words, only speeding the movement around your swollen bud while his fist wraps around his cock, pumping it to the matching pace.

Your back arches, lower muscles ache from unnatural movement, making tears form in your eyes. There was no point in begging; your throat was sore from pleading cries, hands were bruised, throbbing pussy puffed, and sensitive to the smallest caress; and yet none of those things made Anakin consider stopping.

How could he stop? Why would he stop when you pleased him so much? Your cunt clenching around nothing, undies soaked through with your sweet juices dripping onto the sheets, tainting his bed with the remains of you that he would later bask in. You were a pretty little doll, all for him to love and all for him to torture; your pain and pleasure belonged to him.

“Let’s take a look,” His fingers hook under the waistband of your underwear and slowly tug them down, soft cotton unsticking from your abused pussy, sending shivers down your spine. Anakin pulls them all the way off, admiring the artwork that was created because of him.

“Look at these…” He brings the ruined material to his nose and inhales deeply. “Slutty pussy ruining all the pretty things; I should punish it more, mmm?” He pats your tender folds, making sure the tips of his fingers smack right against your pulsating clit so you whimper for him more.

“N-no!” You sob, trying to squirm your hips away from his bitter touch, which only makes his cock twitch towards you, aching to be welcomed deep in your guts.

“You are in no place to complain, little whore.” Anakin, quite obviously unpleased by your actions, grabs your legs and pulls you back to him. Snaking under your knees, he pushes your legs up, raising your pelvis. His muscular arm is enough to hold them in place, with your knees almost touching your ears. “Pretty sopping cunt, all for daddy to spread.” He tsks, enjoying how it pulsed and trembled from the lack of pleasure.

His words were instantly followed by two thick fingers sliding easily knuckles deep and proceeding with a scissor-like motion, opening up your most sacred place. He swirls his digits around, juices sloshing around his flesh, pussy full of wetness that he’d love to eat out of you. But that would drive you over the edge, and it wasn’t on his to-do list. No, you were going to be a good toy and enjoy pleasing him instead. That’s what the dirty slut of a girlfriend is for.

“So greedy, just asking to be fucked.” He sucks you off his fingers, savoring the taste, a sight almost invisible through your glossy eyes. Anakin reached back for your damp, discarded panties, folding them messily.

His index slides back in you, accompanied by the cotton of your undies, material scratches your moistened skin, making your legs tremble.

“N-no, please!” Your voice breaks, pretty begs catching his attention.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” Anakin hums, continuing to stuff you full of your own underwear slowly. “Need daddy’s cock? Is that why you’re so squirmy?”

“Yes, yes, daddy, please, need to cum, fuck— fuck me, please!” You blabber, trying to make him fuck your delicious, dripping pussy. “Please, need it s’ bad!”

He chuckles at your desperation, slipping out of your cunt, leaving the pink material peeking outside just a tiny bit while the rest of the lace soaks up your wetness.

“Of course, honey, I couldn’t just not cum in such a pretty hole.” He releases your legs, dropping them down at each side of his thighs as he lines himself to your entrance.

He slides in slowly, careful not to drive your panties further than he intended. Once his swollen head is wrapped between your spongy walls, he stops completely, making you whine in frustration.

“Pleasepleaseplease need to cum, please!” You try bucking your hips forward, not even caring what will happen to your expensive garment, for it was probably already ruined beyond repair, leaving its only purpose to make your pussy even more sore.

Anakin pushes you down, pinning your lower body to the bed, annoyed at your whinny, stupid self. He pinches your puffed-up clit between his fingers.

“Shut the fuck up.” He hisses, making tears drip down your cheeks. “One more squirm, one more peep, one more dumb word from your stupid mouth, and you won’t be walking for weeks.”

Naturally, you do shut the fuck up. Your glossy eyes stare at him, trying to keep still so his treat won’t become reality. You know what happens to disobedient sluts. You know what Anakin does to you when you fail to please him.

“Thought so.” His anger eases when you cooperate, and yet he remains still, only the tip of his cock stretching your entrance. He wraps his fingers around the rest of his length and starts pumping it.

Planting your hips into the mattress, you try not to move as he uses you like a little cum dump, not even trying to properly fuck you. Your brain scrambled from how perfect his moans and grunts are; you are proud; you are grateful to be the one who gets his precious seed; and as long as he deems your womb as usable, you are fulfilled.

“Good girl, gonna stuff you full.” He grunts. His hand strokes faster and faster.

Feeling the lack of your moans, he grants you the pleasure of his thumb back on your clit, caressing it up and down to the speed of his hand.

“That’s it, my stupid breeding hole, you’ll take daddy’s cum, yeah? Get that womb nice and busy…”

He talks you and him both into a sweet release, his filthy words making your insides tremble with the need. Even if he won’t fuck you, you’re thankful. Pussy split, ready to receive the load, pretty panties stuffed inside, tortured clit finally being rubbed to its content, and the prospect of your daddy knocking you up finally gets you over the edge. Your trembling body shakes his bed as you finally get to feel the release, highlighted by Anakin’s hot cum leaking inside of you. His fist keeps milking all of the viscous liquid, filling you to the brim, leaving your poor panties and sore pussy ruined.

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angelinajoulie · 3 months

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・。.・゜✭・.・✫ . ✭・.・✫・✭ .・゜・。.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀STRICTLY 18+.

WARNINGS: soft smut, subfem!reader x softdom!anakin, not proofread because im very lazy grrrr, breast worship (idk if its called like this i suck at explaining kinks !!!), body worship, p in v, little tease with his fingers heh.

・。.・゜✭・.・✫ . ✭・.・✫・✭ .・゜・。.

yeah, fucking rough is good, but can you imagine anakin taking you as if you are the rarest jewel in the galaxy?

he would start as usual, sitting by the edge of his bed with you astride on his lap, while his hands memorized every contour of your body. his eyes, just as eager, would take in each soft whimper from your parted lips and all the shudders that only he could provide. because to him, you’d be the only woman in the galaxy, and you’d be only his. so, how could he not worship you? your form, your personality, the way you dress in the morning while he stares from his usual side of the bed. everything about you would be just so perfect to him, it makes his stomach flutter.

and the moment you lower to hump yourself against his obvious erection, anakin would stop you mid-movement by grasping your hips—ever so gently, of course—and smile lovingly. “slow, my love. i want to make love to you tonight, alright?”

just as his words ended, his strong arms would shift your position and lay you down on the sheets comfortably, and he would take a few seconds to admire the beauty beneath him as he hovers above you.

with a few kisses, he would caress your neck, then the upper swell of your right breast. his lips would travel lower, too, just to savor the beat of your pulse under the sensitive skin, while one hand would find its way to unhook your bra with the ease of familiarity.

in this world, there was nothing anakin would love more than tits—except you, of course. oh, so soft and beautiful. especially if they are yours. the moment your bra slips away, he would admire them with dilated pupils that made the blue of his gorgeous eyes almost disappear. it takes him all his might not to ravage them, suck and bite his way from one to the other.

so instead, he’d simply lick his lips before locking his gaze with yours again.

after making sure you are ready enough by simply sliding index and middle upon the dampness of your underwear, with the rare gentleness that he deserves only for you, anakin would push them aside and move his hand to unbuckle his trousers. they are everything he is patient enough to strip away from—and not even entirely, as he just pushes them just past his hips along his underwear.

and once free, his touch would be reverent as he positions himself at your entrance, pausing, giving you a chance to feel every inch of him pressing forward, slowly encased by the velvety warmth of your body. it was no less intense than when he took you roughly, however—even in the softness of lovemaking.

“is this how you imagined it, hm?” he’d whisper as his forehead lands against yours and the slightest of smiles quirks the corners of his mouth. “me worshipping—mmhm…—every inch of you…” his moans lay directly onto your lips, while gentle fingers cradle both your thighs to keep them anchored on each of his hips.

his thrusts would be ever as gentle, making sure you could hum in delight and have every inch of your silk walls given attention. the attention they deserve. you always held him so tight, squeezing almost the soul out of him. so anakin would feel like he has to take them to heart. not that it is forced or unwanted, anyway.

the sounds coming out from his throat would be extremely different, too. whimpers, whines, “i love you”s thrown here and there between one thrust and the other.

and coming to kisses, anakin would kiss you a lot. probably, the moans that he swallowed would be more than the ones lost in the air. sweet, loving, not the usual ones where the main objective was to exchange spit (mh, but those are insanely good too).

his eyes, glazed with love, would be fixated upon the circular movements of his hips that just match yours, making sure your clit is being taken care of by his lower abdomen, before trailing upwards to admire your eyes roll to the sockets as you both come undone with soft yells. and just to add, your hands, that had been caressing and tugging his hair for the entire time with love and appreciation, helped him so damn much at reaching the edge.

oh, anakin fell more and more in love with you each time. well, after all, wasn’t that what lovemaking was for?

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angelinajoulie · 3 months

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angelinajoulie · 3 months

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MASTERS OF THE AIR — part 2

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angelinajoulie · 3 months

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mdni. minors & ageless blogs will be blocked. warnings: explicit sexual content, established relationship, dom!anakin, mild breeding kink, overstimulation (f receiving), dumbification (f receiving), praise (f receiving), size difference, impact play (f receiving) mention.

reduced to a sweaty and pink mess, you pant hard with your arm thrown over your eyes to shield yourself from anakin's gaze in your vulnerable state.

"baby, you came so much." he commends through an exhale and a snicker. the powerful release has you in a tender recovery space, focusing on not crying with all your might. you do that sometimes, the waterworks take over when your poor body is too overwhelmed. you hear him shuffle, and carefully he pulls out from your puffy pussy. sensitive, you jolt from the sudden loss of being full, and hot cum oozes out of your hole. yours and his mixed together in a love potion, and his hand on your waist tightens as he watches the liquid spill out from you. "fuck, princess, we did good."

you nod in agreement from under your arm, getting a grip on yourself just enough so you don't look like you're ignoring him.

"do you wanna show me?" his low voice sends a shiver down your spine. you know exactly what he's talking about, and you remove your arm, exposing your warm face to the air that blows on the tears at the corners of your eyes. tentatively, you reach both your hands down. they glide past your chests with sore nipples; your ribcage rising and falling with fast breath; your taut stomach that trembles from your resounding orgasm and forcing it to stretch into impossible positions; your hipbones that stick out from propping up your pelvis on stacked pillows; and finally your battered pussy lips. nimble fingers cautiously press into cunt, all hot and stingy from being snapped into so many times, from being slapped and fingered and bit, and you pull apart your swollen folds.

your clit pulses as you touch yourself like you're afraid to make one wrong move and cum all over again; anakin sucks in a breath at the sight of your pretty nails he paid for getting lost in your delicate tissues that he's clobbered into submission. you show him what he asked for, spreading yourself apart to display cum having made a mess of your insides.

"fucked those pretty guts, didn't i?" he asks and you wince at his crude language. that flinch deepens, whimpering when his rough hands clutch the undersides of your thighs to pick you up more. he folds you over yourself, stretching your legs impossibly further apart and you ache. "look at all that cum, bunny. hell of a creampie." it raises your hips closer to his face, and he plunges two fingers into his mouth, coating them with spit to dip between your ass cheeks, gathering the sticky trail of white to scoop it back into your quivering hole.

"ani-i-i!" you cry, wiggling indignantly as he cruelly shoves his fluids back into you.

"can't let you waste it, sweet girl." he tells you, moistening his lips as he devours the sight of your poor cunt struggling to hold everything he's giving it. you still, even if it hurts. "that's it. makin' me so proud right now."

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angelinajoulie · 3 months

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Austin Butler Shirtless as Major Gale in the Desert 🏜️

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angelinajoulie · 3 months

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WARNINGS — Anakin × Fem!Reader, Dom!Anakin × Sub!Reader, ovulation, masturbation, breeding kink, pet names (love, baby), verbal degradation, humiliation, swearing (fuck, slut, cockslut, bitch), oral sex (m), fingering (f), pain kink, impact play (face slapping), manhandling, brief dacryphilia, brief dub-con, drooling, mentions of cum, clit play, creampie.

WORDS — 2.3k

Imagining Anakin with your own fingers rubbing onto your clit was a nightmare. It was agonizing torture to experience pleasure that was nowhere close to the feeling of his nine-inch cock rubbing against your cervix. Especially now that the moon has shifted and your womb is pulsing with the need for his seed.

Anakin has quite literally ruined you and your body, molded it into its own personal plaything that couldn’t get satisfaction without him. His touch was a remedy for everything —fear, anger, sadness — but it was especially skilled at calming your need to be fucked dumb.

Haunted by the inability to get yourself off and get rid of ovulation cravings in the process, you make your way to Anakin’s home office, where he’s been studying some dull Jedi scrips you had no interest in. The room was dimly lit by a single torchiere, which left a soft cast of light on Anakin’s scrumptious body. Peeking through the partially opened door that he’s purposely left for you, watching the soft frown between his eyebrows and the way his exposed forearms tensed while flipping the papers, you didn’t even notice how your hand slipped past your panties again. The absurdity of the situation was what made your walls clench extra tightly around your amateur digit — so desperate, you had no other choice but to secretly watch your own boyfriend.

Your head partially pressed against the doorframe, one eye peaking and savoring Anakin while your finger messily maneuvered around your clit, you couldn’t believe Anakin was still oblivious to your deed. Especially when your wetness has long ago seeped past your underwear and is now making a pathetic sloshing sound, which only fuels your desire.

“Come here, love.” Anakin’s voice drags you out of your fantasies; he pats his thigh, calling you as if you were a dog. If your hand wasn’t glued to your pussy, you would definitely follow the command instantly.

Even with your brain dumbified by all the hormones, it was quite easy to realize that Anakin indeed had it all figured about your activities. His nonchalant behavior, however, was surprising and not decipherable for your little head.

“Come on, hands off yourself and come, I won’t ask again."

This time, you move. Wiping the remains of yourself on the back of your skirt, you follow the soft light inside the room and display yourself in front of Anakin with pouted lips and a suspicious gleam in your eyes.

Anakin slides the papers aside and turns his chair to face you. Familiar heavy stare of desire filling you with the feeling of inferiority, even if he’s the one sitting below your eye level. He remains mute as he reaches out to dig his fingers into the supple flesh of your thighs.

“Wanna tell me why you’ve been humping every corner of the house the whole fucking day?” He asks as he slides his warm hand across your skin, brushing the very bottom of your ass with his fingertips.

“I’m just—”

“A bitch in heat.” He cuts you off, grabbing your butt-cheek at the same time as the sharp words sting your dignity. “Say it.”

Before you can open your mouth again, his fingers slip past the crotch of your panties, hooking under it and pulling it aside, allowing two metal digits to slide past the brim of your wetness as his other hand is welcomed under your skirt.

“I’m a—AH!” Your knees buck when the cold edges scratch at your walls; not even your pooling arousal relieves the bittersweet tingle.

“What’s wrong?” He asks with a voice of mock pity. “Needy cunt shuts you up, mmm? Can’t speak unless I fuck my cum in you?” His fingers move at a slow but forceful pace, each powerful stroke making you trip over your words.

“A-A-Ani-i-i s-stop!” You grab at his wrist, trying to pause the movement, which only encourages him to create a more agonizing pace.

“What was that? Harder?” He slaps your hand off his, intensifying the pumping into your hole. Creamy juice drips down his wrist as he’s tearing at your insides with an insensitive, artificial touch. And all you’re capable of is whimpering and letting him satisfy his sadistic needs.

Your eyes are clouded with tears of pleasure, yet the limited sight allows you to see the tightness of his pants, covering his hardening shaft from your view. You can’t help but create a mental image, replacing the mechno-fingers with his nine-incher. That’s when your sore pussy finally starts clenching down around him, making the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

When Anakin frees his hand out of your grasp, there is no other response than whimpering at the loss of delight between your legs. He doesn’t acknowledge your desperation. Raising his hips up slightly, he frees himself off his pants, letting them sit midway his thighs. Following the hint, you try to make your way on top of him, climbing into his lap while pushing your skirt up — ready to receive the reward you’ve been craving since eight in the morning.

“What are you doing?” Anakin asks, looking at you with his eyebrows slightly up, an expression of mockery.

You bite your lip, surprised by the sudden change of events. Your eyes bore into his, looking for a sign to proceed before your pussy grows cold.

Anakin smiles at you, seemingly holding in a small chuckle. His hand reaches back for your cunt, but instead of entertaining it further, he gently pats you twice. “Get on your knees.”

Frustrated, you slide your knee off the chair, standing back up between his now spread legs. You give him a needy stare, speechlessly begging for mercy.

“I know that look, baby.” He finally speaks, his fist wrapping around his length to smear the precum over the sensitive skin. “Unfortunately, little sluts don’t get their wombs used, get down." He points to the floor. Hypnotized by the way his hand squeezed the swollen tip with each stroke, you lower yourself.

Wasting no time, Anakin’s hand grabs the back of your head, pulling you into his crotch. Your lips settle at the base under his cock, resting it across your face as you stare at him, glossy eyes blinking in a silent plea. He strokes your hair, admiring the view.

“You wanted it, didn’t you?” The grip tightens, making sure you are locked in a humiliating position.

Without receiving an answer, Anakin guides himself past your lips, sliding in slowly as your throat and walls pulse in unity, one at the stretch and the other at the lack of it. He lets out a satisfied groan as the warmth of your mouth surrounds his painfully swollen dick.

“Fuuuck, what a tight little hole—” He curses, eyes staring up as his eyebrows furrow slightly. If you hadn’t been so depraved of him fucking you properly, you would have enjoyed the sight of his pleasure.

He doesn’t bother to use his hips as his hand guides your head up and down his length, each stroke appearing to be impossibly deeper than the earlier. Suffocating from the tears and salty precum spilling all over you, there is no other choice but to claw at his thighs as you try not to pass out from the intense feeling of your throat being stretched out and adjusted to the size of him.

“You’re fine, take it.” He groans, not switching the pace. He glances down at you, chest rising and falling as he uses you to his heart’s content. The sight of you drooling all over his dick without having a say in it made him feel like a god. He owned you.

Feeling him twitching inside you, you sense the end of your torture is near. As you brace yourself to receive his load, Anakin suddenly slides all the way out.

While your body greedily gasps for air, he tugs on your hair, making your head bend backwards without any remorse for your fucked-out state. His hand reaches up to slap across your cheek, grounding you.

“Now let’s try again. What are you?” He speaks, the same harsh tone making it obvious that he’s not a bit disturbed by his ruined orgasm.

Sniffling the tears away, your lips struggle between his fingers. “I’m a b-bitch in heat—” Your stuttering earns you another slap, followed by the return of the harsh grip.

“Again.” He says, lips in thin line, as he waits for your obedience.

“A bitch in heat!” You repeat it more clearly, trying to satisfy him by fighting the need to cough. Another slap is delivered to the same cheek, this time making you twitch and hiss in pain.

“Yeah? That’s what you are, isn’t it?” Anakin takes more pleasure in abusing your cheek, each strike forcing you to gasp and sob as your head rested inches away from his still throbbing cock. “Stupid cockslut, each month the same thing, your needy cunt begging for cum, need to breed so bad, hm? Say it again.”

“I’m a bitch in heat!” You say loudly, trying to make him stop and finally give you what you actually need.

Anakin seems to be snapped out of his trance by how loud and desperate your voice was. His hands grip your wrists, pulling you up to your feet. He doesn’t speak as he turns you around, bending you over his desk. Rough hand at your neck, pushing your face into the long-forgotten documents, which will soon be stained by your drool and tears.

He yanks your skirt and underwear down with one tug, his own pants sliding a bit lower in the process, allowing him more freedom of movement. Not waiting for your whines, he stuffs your pussy full, thick length splitting you open, fitting perfectly between your soft heat. Anakin’s instantly covered in your arousal, juices wrapping around him, making it easier to slip back inside with each sharp thrust.

“'S what you wanted, huh?” His hands grab your hips, raising you so your legs dangle while he ravages your hole. “What do you say? Let’s shut this tight cunt up for the next nine months.”

Anakin’s words made you spasm rapidly around him. Your body, determined to get knocked up, didn’t even bother to consider what your non-hormonal brain thinks about it, so when he asked the question, you couldn’t help but cry multiple begs about how you need to be filled up. You’ll worry about it later.

“Yeah? Say it again: What was that you wanted me to do to you?” He pounds away his pent-up frustration as you gather enough strength to speak through the quivering of your whole body.

“Ani, please! Need you to— ah! Come inside—!”

Hearing your trembling voice begging to be fucked full, his hips slap against your butt-cheeks with greater force. You feel Anakin’s chest press against your back, the warmth of his skin easing the way your insides bruised in the shape of each vein on his shaft. His moans and grunts of pleasure go straight into your ear in a new-found position. The room is full of lewdness: a wooden floor stained with love juices and spit, desk scratching the wall with each pump of Anakin’s cock, your pussy sloshing around it, struggling to accommodate his size comfortably but taking every inch without a whimper of displeasure.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck— S’ like that, take it, fucking slut!” He swears, grunts mixing with whimpers. The more he curses, the messier and more out of order his thrust becomes, signaling his inevitable release.

His hands snake around you. One finds his way to your clit and instantly begins rubbing it messily, causing your whole body to shake violently. His other arm reaches all the way across your chest to grab on your shoulder from under you, making sure you’re pressed nice and tightly against him with no chance of slipping off his cock until he’s fucked you full of cum.

“Aaaani, don’t stop—!” You beg when the tingle at the very bottom of your tummy seems to be unknotting slowly. Your hands reach to hold onto the one that’s squeezing your shoulder.

“Gonna cum, fuck, fill this pussy up, yeah? Want my cum baby? Yeahhh— Gon’ breed you properly—”

With the last strength left in his body, he proceeds to piston short and hard strokes into you while his fingers work furiously over your clit to bring you to your own pleasure. Anakin’s fingers dig into your skin, forehead leans tightly against the back of your head, his deep groans are mixing with desperate whimpers as his pleasure is reaching its peak.

“C’mon baby, don’t stop squeezing me, that’s it— fUCK, yeah— Baby—!”

With the last deep moan against your skin, you feel hot ropes of cum shooting all the way inside you, tainting your spongy walls with white. Your own orgasm follows when you feel his cock spasming with release. Curling your toes, your whole lower body trembles against him, unraveling the intense feeling of pleasure deep between your folds. Anakin’s fingers dedicatedly abuse your sweet bundle of nerves until your shaking subsides completely and you grow limp on top of the desk, your feet finally lowering to the ground.

Anakin lays on top of you, still holding you tightly against his chest to prevent your weakened body from sliding down to the floor. Still deep inside you, his entire weight squeezes you in a protective embrace while he’s slowly going soft, basking in the mix of your and his cum. When both of your heavy breathing seem to finally cease, his lips press against the back of your shoulder with a deep sigh.

“Think I fucked the slut out of your cunt for good?”

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angelinajoulie · 3 months

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angelinajoulie · 3 months

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angelinajoulie · 3 months

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𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

jedi!anakin x padawan!reader

summary: your master anakin skywalker crashes his speeder after a move of reckless endangerment and finds himself in the emergency room as a result. following a successful surgery, you are his primary caretaker. spending so much time with him, alone in his bedchamber, is dangerous for you both considering the inappropriate feelings you've been harboring for your own master.

word count: 2.5k+

features: {minors dni} gn!reader, master and padawan pairing, lowkey grooming, reader is over 18 but barely, sexual content (fairly non-graphic), dubious consent, voyeurism, masturbation, hurt comfort, non-graphic mentions of injuries and stitches, love confession, pining

Goddamn, man child You act like a kid even though you stand six foot two Self-loathing poet, resident Laurel Can-you-know-it-all You talk to the walls when the party gets bored of you But I don't get bored, I just see it through Why wait for the best when I could have you? - lana

Impatiently, you pace back and forth through the training room while waiting for your master’s arrival. You can count all of the times he’s been late for a meeting with you on one hand. As far as you know you’re the only one he tries to be punctual for.

The fact that he’s nearly thirty minutes late is alarming, especially because he didn’t message or call. And then… there’s something in the Force. Faintly, you feel it. A warning. A bad feeling that something isn’t quite right. You hope it’s nothing serious, but you’re not willing to take a risk by waiting here any longer to find out.

Just as you start heading to leave the training room, the door slides open to reveal Obi-Wan, Anakin’s old master. The expression of horror on his bearded face leaves you thinking the almost worst-case scenario. The worst-case scenario—his death—you would have felt it instantly.

“Is he okay?” you ask him before he has a chance to speak.

Obi-Wan exhales slowly. “He-he’s in critical condition. His ship malfunctioned suddenly, and he crashed. The shrapnel barely missed his heart. Evidently, he was driving quite recklessly. I assume, to get to you.”

You say nothing, instead shoving Obi-Wan out the way and running down the hallway to the medical bay. You must see him. And those who stand in your path are deserving of death.

“He’s in surgery!” the Jedi medic shouts, holding you down on the ground after you tried to break into the adjoining chamber.

Angry crying and suffocating on your own mucus as you lie there, you know you’re causing a ridiculous scene, one your master would be ashamed of. But you couldn’t help it. If you lost him… you can’t even entertain the thought of that. Thinking about him no longer being at your side to guide you burns a wound so deep in your heart that the possibility of him not leaving the surgery room leaves you shaking in terror.

Breaking into a sob, you whisper to the medic, “I’m sorry.”

Perhaps realizing you pose no threat, he gets off you and allows you to leave. “Maybe you should go to the waiting room.”

Standing and dusting yourself off, you nod to him. “Thank you.”

But you pass through the waiting room and jog to the side of the Temple housing the Jedi dorms. Even with your eyes closed and if you cut yourself off from the Force, you’d know where his room his. You know without doubt that you’d find your way. Even Anakin doesn’t know how many nights you’ve spent, once all the Jedi are asleep, sitting by his door, focusing on his every motion, his every breath, while he goes about his nighttime routine. When he showers, you see his body, perfect to you, in your mind clear as day. You feel his hands move over his skin as he scrubs himself clean as if they are your own hands.

When he cries, you feel his tears.

When he screams, it echoes in your ears.

You’ve seen his dreams, his nightmares that he doesn’t tell you about.

And you’re the only one who’s heard him sing. Sometimes when he’s going to sleep, he plays old songs off the computer. His singing voice is… soft and harmonious. You hope one day he’ll sing you a lullaby.

But the thing he does maybe every other day or so that you play over and over in your head when you close your eyes, is when he touches himself. You feel his blood pump faster from his steady heart, feel the blood rush through his frame. His labored breaths are wet and warm. And when he climaxes, the pleasure touches you too.

This is the one thing you know you shouldn’t listen in on. And you feel so guilty every time he does it. But you can’t bring yourself to stop because you wish he’d touch you like that. Maybe one day he will.

You’re old enough now. Nearly nineteen.

When you reach his room, your nimble fingers type in the code to get in. He never showed you his code. You just know.

The truth is that you’ve never actually been inside his bedchamber. It looks different than you imagined. A lot messier. His dirty laundry is scattered about the floor. The whole room smells like him. That’s what you like most of all.

If you weren’t sobbing so hard that breathing hurts, you might have rolled around in his laundry, might have sat at his desk, and looked to see if he keeps a diary. But all you can do is plop onto his small bed, right in the center of his creased sheets. Stretching out, you bury your face in his pillow and inhale sharply, filling your senses with his scent. You smell traces of his shampoo and his sweat. It’s his pillow so of course it smells like him.

In any other situation, you would find this arousing. Here you are, lying on the bed he sleeps in. Anakin is all around you even though he’s so far from your reach. But his presence does little more than comfort you. For now, comfort is all you seek. Anakin might die.

To self-soothe, you bundle up in his bedsheets and think about his smile because you can only wait and attempt to block out every thought that tells you your master’s not coming back.

Obi-Wan is the first to notify you that he’s awake.

“His surgery went well. They successfully removed the shrapnel from around his heart and from his chest. He’s stable, and the doctor says he can have visitors.”

You realize you spent the night in his room. The pillow is still damp from your tears as you cried yourself to sleep. Not even bothering to brush through your hair, you leave his room and sprint down the halls. Your heart races faster than ever before.

The fact that he’s alive has quite literally saved you from destruction and eternal damnation because you don’t wish to know what would have happened to you if he hadn’t made it.

The medic from yesterday gladly lets you in to see Anakin.

You tiptoe inside because he looks to be sleeping. Without making too much noise, you have a seat beside him, perfectly content to just watch over him while he rests. This is enough for you for now.

He still looks like himself. There are a few cuts along his skin. The hospital gown covers his stitches from surgery. But he’s just as lovely. No matter what you’d still love him. His skin is healthy and tan. His lips are blush pink.

You’d forgotten just how splendid your master is. It’s no wonder he’s basically a demigod. Half-man, half-Force energy, according to his mother’s story.

You realize you must tell him how you feel. Because you never know what can happen. He risks his life for the galaxy nearly every day. Anakin deserves to know the depth of your love, despite your status as his apprentice.

“Hey,” he whispers, his blue eyes flashing open. He reaches out to grasp your hand.

You interlace your fingers between his. The grip he holds you in is firm and warm. Just from the touch of his hand you find yourself trembling.

“Master, I’m so glad you’re alright. I-I don’t know how to express how lucky I feel that you’re alive. I’m just so grateful to the Force. You’re—you’re my everything.” Your smile crumbles into an ugly sob. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cry. I was so worried. I thought I lost you.”

With his free hand, Anakin wipes your tears. “Oh, little one, don’t apologize. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry to have worried you. I was being reckless. I didn’t want to be late for our training. But I realize now that wasn’t the best idea.” His thumb rubs the side of your cheek while the rest of his fingers curl around your neck.

“Just don’t do it again, okay? Call me instead. It’s better for you to be late than dead, Master.”

“I promise.” He laughs. It’s good to see him carrying on like normal. You weren’t sure you’d ever see him smile again.

“Are you in any pain?” you ask.

“They have given me painkillers. So no. I feel really good actually. A little tired though.”

You rest a hand on his broad shoulder. “I’m glad.”

After a few moments of silence, you open your mouth to say something more. Perhaps to confess something to him. But the doctor barges in suddenly with Obi-Wan trailing behind. Immediately, Anakin drops your hand, and you step back from his bed. You both know that you shouldn’t be touching each other like that, regardless of whether the intention was romantic or platonic. Physical touch between a master and his apprentice is frowned upon because it indicates attachment, which is forbidden.

It's very rare that Anakin touches you like that. You know you’ll think about the gesture for the rest of your life.

“Open wide, here comes the starship,” you announce, lifting the spoon of hot soup towards his lips.

Anakin looks at you for a moment and then breaks into laughter. Every time his chest heaves, he winces from the pain caused by his surgery. His chest is covered in small gashes held close by glue or stitches.

“I’m sorry,” you gasp, regretting making him laugh.

“It’s not your fault I find you so entertaining.” His laughs are a little more stifled than before.

He’s sitting up in his bed, and you’re kneeling on the mattress at his side while you feed him some soup. As his padawan, you were assigned as his caretaker for the next few weeks as he recovers, a position which you were more than happy to accept.

“I’m sorry you’re in pain. You know you probably should be taking the painkillers the doctor sent.”

He shrugs. “Nah, it just makes me feel dizzy. I think that—” His stomach growls loudly. And it’s your turn to laugh.

“You need to eat, Master!” You hold the spoon up to his mouth.

Looking into your eyes in the intense way he has, he opens and sips the soup from the utensil. You both know very well that he’s capable of feeding himself, but neither of you seems to want to admit that. Anakin’s happy to receive extra attention from you, and you enjoy giving it to him.

Once he’s eaten, you set the empty bowl on his nightstand. Easing off the mattress, you draw your cloak to you, signaling your departure. You have class with Master Windu in thirty minutes, and you know that he demands punctuality.

“Well, Master, I’ll be back in a couple hours to bring you dinner and clean your room.”

“Anakin.”

You freeze. What does he mean by that? “I-I’m confused.”

“When we’re alone, you can call me Anakin. I’d like you to.”

Heat rushes to your face immediately. You’ve always called him Anakin in your head but never voiced it. For some reason, you feel even closer to him than before.

“I’d like that too,” you murmur.

“Good,” he says, lying on his back to sleep. “Do you have to go?” He gives you puppy eyes. Big and blue. Anakin’s lying on his side, leaving a gap on the bed. He taps the empty space. “We could watch a holomovie?”

Is he being serious?

“I have class.”

“I can write you an excuse.”

You frown. Well… it’s not like you want to go hang out with Master Windu for two hours. But you’re not sure if you’re ready to lie down beside Anakin. You’ve watched movies together before but never cuddled or lied down together.

“You don’t have to,” Anakin mutters, perhaps a little embarrassed. “I just wanted to… hold you. For a bit.”

After dropping your cloak behind you, hesitant is your approach to your master’s side. His knuckles brush against your hand. Experimentally, you push back the loose curls falling into his face. Your fingertips meet his skin, and he closes his eyes, his long lashes settling peacefully.

“Anakin…” you whisper, knowing what this means.

“I know,” he says back, opening his eyes again. “It’s wrong. B-but I don’t care. I need you.” He grabs your wrist. “Here. With me.”

You stand there, iced in wonder. The possessive way he’s gripping you and looking at you—you can’t find a reaction. How can you? All this time, he’s kept his feelings for you a secret.

Or has he?

Maybe he’s just never used his words like this before.

You can be sure of nothing anymore. You thought that you fell first. But how can you truly know?

He’s always been different with you. He lets his guard down. He’s sweet. He’s funny. And easily made jealous when it comes to you.

Sometimes, you would feel him staring at you longer than he should, in places that he shouldn’t.

He’s always found an excuse to spend time with you even in the most ridiculous of scenarios. If he were on the battlefield, he’d make time to call you as soon as the gunfire settled. You always knew he treated you special. But you never knew why.

Was his attentiveness to you the reason you fell?

Has it all been part of his plan?

“Is that something you want too?” he asks.

You’re pulled back into the moment. Your heart knows how you will answer, even if it contradicts what you know is right.

Leaning down, you press a soft kiss to his lips. You leave it brief purposefully, not ready to give more without his initiation.

He doesn’t say a word. You’ve made Anakin speechless. His mouth hangs open a little as he tries to comprehend what you just did.

The Jedi Knight falls on his back and stares at the ceiling. His face is flushed red.

It feels like an eternity until he finally speaks. “Oh.”

That’s all he has to say?

He speaks again. “You want me? Like that?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

Slowly, because of his injury, he rises, pushing up on the bed to a seat. With the Force, he draws you closer so that he can wrap his arms around your waist. His lips are magnetized to your neck. And he bites in love.

You feel your clothes falling off your body left and right, either by his hand or the Force.

He pulls you against him. Your chest against his. Flesh to flesh. The stitches prickle your skin. His mouth works up your neck and to your ear.

He nuzzles your lobe. “Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?”

You close your eyes, burying your face into the curve of his neck. “No.”

“A long time,” he murmurs against you.

He helps you into his bed. You lie down first. The velvety sheets crush under your naked body. Sitting up, he admires you from above. His fingertips dance across the outline of your body.

“When I’m better,” Anakin settles beside you, one arm wrapping around you, his hand sinking between your legs, “I’ll show you how I need you, how I’ve always wanted to make you mine.”

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