MINORS DNI 18+
NOTES: inspired by @justadmiringanakin bcos i read some of her ceo!anakin thing and i’m so excited for it to be posted. so this is dedicated to her.
WARNINGS: dilf!anakin | sexual content | kinks: daddy, size | position: cowgirl | age gap.
“that’s it, baby, that’s it,” soft praises echo in your ear as you sink down onto DILF!ANAKIN SKYWALKER's length. “you feelin’ it? you feelin’ okay?”
you sniff, twisting your face in the most adorable way. too pitiful to resist, he leans into you, trailing sweet lingering kisses onto your heated cheek and temple.
“can you speak? can you do that for me, baby?” he keeps his voice barely above a whisper, like you’re exchanging secrets. large hands handle the fat of your thighs, stroking soothingly with his thumbs. he’s warm, and impossibly deep.
to let him know you’re alright, you nod, and feel his lips pass over your closed eyelids. your fists tangled in the collar of his shirt begin to tremble as you flex your legs, raising yourself.
“take it easy. don’t hurt yourself.” he says, even while his palm slide to your ass, instinctively drawing you closer into his chest.
“i can do it.” you plea, “please, ani, please. need it so bad.”
lovingly, he tilts his head, a wistful smile stretching his lips. “makes me feel young when you call me that.” his honeyed countenance remains only until you lift yourself, so tight wrapped around him it furrows his brows and sharply inhale. “fuck…”
“need— you,” you choke out, opening your eyes to meet his lust-blown gaze.
“‘m right here, angel. right here,” he assures you, one hand wedging between the two of you to thumb at your sensitive bud, it helps but doesn’t solve everything. “can feel you drying up, you’re going too fast.”
“if i can just…” you whine, his warnings going unheeded as you invite yourself onto him, letting your weight lower yourself. but he’s quick to catch you. his grip on your flesh aches, chastising you for biting off more than you can chew.
“what’d i say?” you’re feeling the stretch. the sting. it’s almost enough to get you wet enough for him. almost. “you told me you could handle it.”
“‘m sorry!” you cry out. “ani, i’m so horny it hurts.”
he hushes you, easing your worries by releasing your skin and coming up to stroke the top of your head. gently, he directs it to him, resting your cheek on his shoulder so he can tuck you under his. that big hand threads through your hair, sending tingles down your spine from the contact. his thumb continues to rub circles into your swollen clit.
ever so slowly, he flexes his abdomen as he ruts up into you. you can feel it against you, rigid and hard. the position is comfortable, and safe to relax in. your pussy grateful for the release of tension, loosening with each loving thrust into you. “there, is that better?”
you nod and make a noise of confirmation. when he decides you’re ready, he starts helping you to move too. he pokes around until he finds an angle inside that causes arousal to dampen your conjoined sexes.
SYNOPSIS: Dilf!Anakin joins a dating site and comes away with more than he bargained for.
WORD COUNT: 5k
WARNINGS: +18, infidelity, cheating, age gap (Anakin is in his 40s and the reader is of legal age), sexting, both masturbating over video call, daddy kink
A/N: Hello everyone, this idea came to me out of nowhere and kept on hammering in my mind until I wrote it. I hope you like it, comments, reblogs and suggestions are always appreciated, kisses ;) Dividers by @cafekitsune
Sexting isn’t cheating.
Anakin repeated the thought like a mantra as he filled out the registration form. Technically, this wasn’t even a dating site. From what he’d read, it was more of a… transactional arrangement—an online space where men could chat with young women, spoil them with gifts, and, in return, receive whatever favors both parties agreed upon.
It wasn’t as if his marriage had collapsed overnight. That would have been easier to accept. No, it had been a slow, agonizing unraveling, a gradual drift until the distance between him and Padmé felt impossible to bridge. He couldn’t only blame her long hours at work or the way exhaustion made intimacy rare. He was just as guilty—guilty of giving up, of letting the silence stretch between them for too long, of resigning himself to wanting more but never asking for it.
Regret was useless now.
He exhaled sharply, scrolling through the feed. Most of the profiles were deliberately vague—faceless photos, silhouettes, glimpses of lips, collarbones, and hands. The usernames were just as cryptic, an endless parade of Kitten, Doll, and Baby designed to keep things impersonal.
Then, one caught his eye.
The photo showed nothing but a cascade of silky hair and a princess tiara perched atop it. Something about it—the soft, innocent playfulness—made him pause. Bunny. The name made him smirk. Cute.
A second later, the screen blinked. MATCH.
Anakin’s lips parted slightly. That was… fast. His stomach twisted, fingers hovering over the keyboard. What the hell was he supposed to say? How do you start a conversation like this?
A sharp ding cut through his hesitation.
You had messaged him first.
Anakin rubbed his jaw, still slightly in disbelief that he had actually gone through with this. It wasn't like him to engage in such... base activities. Especially not now. But his marriage had grown so distant, and he needed something—someone—to fill that void.
Just take a deep breath and respond, he told himself as he clicked on your message.
Bunny: Hi there, stranger~
Anakin blinked at the casual greeting, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Stranger? He chuckled softly to himself, realizing that, in this context, that was exactly what you were. Two anonymous figures behind a screen, playing a game neither of you had fully defined yet.
Hi yourself, he typed back, trying to match your easy tone. I like your tiara. It suits you.
The response didn’t come immediately, and in those few seconds, doubt crept in. Was he being too forward? Too personal? Was this a place for compliments, for flirting—or just for transactions?
Bunny: I like shiny things… and pink.
Short. Coy. Playful. The way you phrased it made something tighten in his chest. A flicker of amusement, curiosity, something dangerously close to interest.
I’ll remember that, he replied, his fingers moving with a newfound ease. Do you have a favorite shade of pink?
It was a simple question, innocent on the surface, but it carried weight. He wanted to keep you talking, wanted the conversation to stretch just a little longer. This was a break from reality, from work, from duty. A moment that felt light, free.
He was about to type a response when another message popped up.
Bunny: Do you want me to send you the color hex so you don’t get my gift wrong?
Anakin laughed softly at the dig, shaking his head. So you had a sharp wit. He liked that.
No need for that, he typed back. I have a good eye for color. And I’m not planning on buying you a gift just yet.
There. He had said it—acknowledged the possibility of yet, of something more. It was a dangerous game, but one he was suddenly very willing to play.
Unless… He hesitated just long enough to let anticipation build. Unless you’d like to earn one first?
The reply came quicker than he expected.
Bunny: And what exactly do you want from me to deserve it?
A slow smirk spread across his lips. He had a feeling this conversation was only just getting started.
Anakin swallowed hard, a pulse of heat rolling through him at your bold question. He could feel it—something deep and dangerous stirring inside him—but he didn’t look away from the screen. Instead, he leaned in, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as he considered his next words carefully.
Well, for starters… He typed slowly, deliberately, letting the anticipation stretch. Tell me more about you.
It was a simple request on the surface, but the words carried weight, unspoken possibilities.
What does a cute little bunny like you do for fun?
His lips curled into a smirk as he hit send, already wondering just how far you'd be willing to take this game.
But you didn’t answer right away.
Anakin exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. Damn it. Maybe that was stupid. Cringe—wasn’t that the word people your age used? The last thing he wanted was to come off like some awkward old man trying too hard.
Before he could spiral further, his screen lit up with a new message.
Bunny: I love going to amusement parks—feeling my hair fly on the roller coaster, the Ferris wheel, the carousel…
Anakin smirked, the tension in his chest easing. There was something so effortlessly sweet about that answer, something playful. Of course you liked amusement parks. He could almost picture it—the wind in your hair, the sparkle in your eyes as you laughed on a ride.
And just like that, he wanted to know more.
Is that so? he typed back, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. I'll have to keep that in mind. Maybe I'll take you to a park sometime... among other things.
He paused, letting that statement linger on the screen. Let you wonder, let your imagination run wild. He certainly knew his was.
Tell me, do you have a favorite ride? he asked. One that really gets your adrenaline pumping?
Bunny: Probably the Ferris wheel, I love going there several times... I'm a little scared of the ghost train, however, I might try it if you promise to hold my hand.
A light blush crept across Anakin's cheeks as he read her message, a small smile tugging at his lips. Of course, a Ferris wheel was your favorite. He could picture it now—you sitting beside him, your shoulders brushing as you slowly rotated at the top, looking out over the park and the rest of the world spread out below you.
Don't worry, he typed, his fingers moving almost eagerly across the screen. I'd hold your hand through anything.
He paused, then added playfully, Besides, I think I'm pretty good at killing ghosts. Both the real kind and the fictional ones.
Your response was immediate.
Bunny: Oh, that’s good to know because I think my room might be haunted. Maybe you could come take a look?
Anakin sighed, shaking his head with a smirk. Gosh, you’re being so flirty.
Not that he minded. Not one bit.
Anakin leaned back in his chair, taking a moment to read your flirtatious message again. His smirk grew wider.
Well then, he replied, a playful lilt to his words. It looks like I'll have to schedule an investigation soon.
He paused, letting the innuendo linger for a moment. But he didn't stop there.
Of course, you know that ghost hunting can be quite...intense work. It may require a thorough search of every room. Every surface.
He knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. There was something about you, a freshness and boldness that drew him in.
Bunny: in my bed too? even under the covers?
Anakin's heart raced as he read your brazen message, a flood of improper thoughts rushing through his mind. The image of you tangled in the sheets, perhaps already flushed and breathless before he even arrived, was too much to ignore.
Especially under the covers, he typed back, not holding anything back. You never know where a ghost might hide, after all. I'll have to search everywhere, just to be safe.
He paused, letting the implication hang in the air. Then added one final line.
And I'll make sure to check every inch thoroughly. For any...abnormalities.
｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡･ﾟ
As the days passed, your messages became more frequent, more daring. What started as playful teasing had turned into something else—something charged, something electric.
The flirting was relentless, a slow, delicious game neither of you wanted to stop. Anakin knew he was toeing the line, but God help him, he didn’t care. You were intoxicating—the way you teased him, the way you played innocent one moment and wicked the next.
And every time his screen lit up with a new message from you, he felt that same rush, that same heat pooling low in his stomach.
You had him hooked.
He knew he should put an end to this, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. It was like a drug, a dangerous high he didn't want to come down from.
Tell me... he paused, his fingers hesitating for only a moment. What do you usually sleep in at night? Or out of...
Anakin's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening as the image loaded. The dim light of his quarters cast an intimate glow across his face, a face flushed with a growing heat that had nothing to do with the temperature. He leaned in closer, squinting to make out every exquisite detail of the photo, his eyes roaming hungrily over the exposed skin of your shoulders, the way the thin strap of your nightgown clung precariously to your frame.
His heart pounded in his chest as he watched, almost in slow motion, the strap slipping ever so slightly. He felt his mouth go dry, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as anticipation built inside him like a palpable force. And then, like a revelation, he caught sight of the swell of your breast, the tantalizing curve that promised so much more if only he could see just a little further.
Bunny: do you like to see more?
Fuck, he breathed, his voice low and rough with desire. I'd love to see more.
You send another message.
Anakin's heart raced as he stared at the image on his screen, his breath growing ragged. The sight of you kneeling there, clutching at the fabric of your nightgown, teasing him with a glimpse of the lace barely covering your butt, sent a jolt of lust straight to his aching cock.
Sweetheart, you're playing with fire, he typed, his fingers trembling slightly as they flew over the keys. Keep this up and I might just burn in the flames.
He palmed himself through his pants, unable to ignore the growing bulge that strained against the confines of his clothing. The urge to touch himself was overwhelming, but he resisted. He wanted to savor this moment, to draw out the delicious torture of anticipation.
What else do you want to show me? he asked. Where else would you like my eyes to wander?
Bunny: Uhm, I don't know, maybe you could buy me a lingerie set to wear just for you
Anakin's eyes darkened with lust as he read your suggestion, his mind racing with the possibilities. The idea of you modeling lingerie just for him, a matching set in a soft, delicate shade of pink, was almost too much to bear.
I think I'd like that very much, he replied. What color would you prefer? I'm thinking something soft and sexy, maybe a shade of pink to match your sweet smile.
He palmed himself more firmly through his pants, his cock throbbing beneath his touch. The urge to whip out his length and stroke himself to completion was strong, but he held back, wanting to make this moment last.
And maybe... he paused, letting the anticipation build. You could send me a picture of what you'd look like in it. Give me a little preview of what's to come.
Bunny: you know my address to send
Anakin couldn't keep the grin off his face as he hit the 'Confirm Purchase' button, his heart racing with anticipation. He had splurged on the most beautiful lingerie set he could find—the perfect shade of bubblegum pink, soft and shimmery, with delicate lace detailing. He couldn't wait to see it clinging to your curves, highlighting every inch of your gorgeous body.
I took your suggestion and one upped it, he typed, smirking to himself. It should be arriving at your doorstep tomorrow. I hope you like it as much as I think you will.
He paused, his mind already filling with the filthy images of your modeling it just for him.
Send me a picture as soon as you put it on. I want to see how stunning you look.
The next day, the first message was from you.
Bunny: Oh baby, I love it, give me a minute to put on my lingerie and we can do a video call
Anakin's breath caught in his throat, his heart hammering wildly in his chest as he read your response. A video call—that would be even better than any photo. He could see you, really see you, in the lingerie he had bought just for you.
I can't wait to see you in it, he typed back, his fingers shaking slightly. Meet me on a video call in 5 minutes.
He ended the message with a winking emoji, his mind already racing with the possibilities. The room was dim, the lighting soft and intimate, perfect for a private show. He could already picture you, perched on the edge of your bed, the pink lace clinging to your curves in all the right places.
Anakin took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. He had to get his head in the game, had to remember that this was just a bit of fun, a distraction from his marriage's problems and the weight of his responsibilities. It didn't mean anything.
But even as he told himself that, he knew it was a lie. This meant something, even if he couldn't quite put his finger on what. All he knew was that he wanted more of you, and he would do whatever it took to get it.
Anakin locked the bedroom door, exhaling slowly as he leaned against it. He mentally thanked Padmé for the extra shift—how ironic. Not long ago, her long hours had been a source of frustration, the widening gap between them something he resented.
And yet here he was, grateful for the distance.
Grateful for the excuse.
His fingers hovered over his phone, anticipation thrumming through him. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. He knew this was dangerous.
But when your name lit up his screen, all reason faded.
Anakin took a deep breath as he tapped the button to accept the video call, his heart pounding in his chest. The screen flickered to life, and there you were—stunning, breathtaking, even more gorgeous than he had imagined.
His eyes widened as he took in the sight of you, clad in the lingerie he had purchased just for this moment. The soft pink lace clung to every curve, highlighting the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the tempting flare of your hips. It was everything he had hoped for and more.
“Fuck, you look incredible,” he breathed, his voice low and rough with desire. “That color was made for you.”
He couldn't take his eyes off you, drinking in every detail. The way the lace seemed to shimmer in the soft light, the way it hinted at the treasures hidden beneath. He felt his cock twitch and harden, straining against the confines of his pants.
“Turn around for me, sweetheart,” he instructed, his voice a low command. “Let me see all of you.”
You smiled amusedly. "Like this" you said happily, turning to show every bit of your skin to him.
Anakin's breath caught in his throat as you spun around, putting yourself on display just for him. The way the lingerie clung to your every curve was mesmerizing, the delicate lace accentuating your breasts, your toned belly, the gentle flare of your hips, and the tantalizing globes of your ass. He couldn't look away, his eyes roaming hungrily over every inch of exposed skin.
“Fuck, you're stunning,” he breathed. “I can't believe I bought that just for you. You look good enough to eat.”
He palmed himself through his pants, unable to ignore the ache of his hardening cock. The urge to reach down and free himself was overwhelming, but he resisted—for now. He wanted to savor this moment, to drink in every detail of your heavenly beauty.
“Lie back on the bed for me,” he instructed, his voice low and commanding. “Spread your legs, and show me what's mine.”
"Oh, baby, you're so bossy," you retorted softly, before biting your lower lip mischievously, adjusting your phone before approaching the bed. "But, I kind of like your dominant ways."
Anakin felt a thrill run through him at your playful words, his cock twitching in approval. He loved seeing this side of you, bold and teasing, more than eager to obey his every command. It was intoxicating, addictive, and he knew he could easily become drunk on the power.
“Good girl,” he praised, his voice a low rumble as he watched you adjust your phone and get in the bed. “You're going to be so perfect for me.”
He drank in the sight of you settling onto the mattress, the soft pink lace a stark contrast against the white fabric. His heart raced as you slowly spread your legs, revealing more of your smooth, creamy thighs, the lace of your panties riding up to showcase the junction between your legs.
“That's it, sweetheart. Nice and slow,” he encouraged, his eyes glued to the screen, not wanting to miss a single second of your tantalizing display. “Show me everything you have to offer.”
Anakin's breath hitched as he watched you slip your delicate hand beneath the lace, his cock throbbing almost painfully against his pants. The sight of you touching yourself, your eyes fluttering closed in pleasure, was almost too much to bear. He could see the growing damp spot on your panties, evidence of your arousal, and it made him ache to be the one to bring you to the edge of ecstasy.
“You're so beautiful like this,”he breathed, his voice rough with desire. “Don't stop touching yourself. I want to watch you.”
He couldn't tear his eyes away from your hand moving beneath the fabric, imagining how soft and smooth your folds were, how wet and ready you were becoming. His own hand drifted down to palm himself more firmly through his pants, squeezing and stroking along the hard length of his cock.
“Tell me how it feels,” he commanded, his voice a low, urgent growl. “Describe it to me in detail. I want to know everything.”
"I'm so wet for you, my fingers are slipping so easily" you whimpered, touching yourself, sighs of pleasure escaping your mouth.
Anakin groaned as he listened to your breathy words, the sound of your pleasure shooting straight to his aching cock. He could picture your fingers gliding effortlessly through your slick folds, your body responding to your own touch, preparing itself for him. The knowledge that he was the cause of your arousal was intoxicating, fueling his own desire.
‘Is that so?” he growled, his hand drifting to the fastenings of his pants. “I can hear how much you're enjoying yourself. How wet you're getting just from my command.”
He popped open the button of his pants, freeing his straining erection. It sprang forth, thick and hard, the head already glistening with precum. He wrapped a hand around his throbbing shaft, squeezing and stroking himself in time with the rhythm of your breathy sighs.
“Touch your pretty pussy, baby,” he ordered, his voice a low, dominating rumble. “Rub those pretty little circles around it, nice and slow. Pretend it's my fingers touching you, pleasuring you.”
"Your fingers are so much bigger than mine, they would feel so good in my pussy," you whimpered.
Anakin's breath grew ragged as he listened to the obscene sound of your fingers plunging in and out of your dripping cunt, your sweet little whimpers and sighs filling the air. His cock throbbed and leaked in his hand as he picked up the pace, stroking himself faster in time with the slick sounds of your touching.
“Fuck, I'd love to sink my fingers deep inside your tight little pussy,” he groaned, his voice strained with lust. “To feel your velvety walls squeezing around me as I pump in and out.”
He could only imagine how perfect you would feel, how hot and wet and ready you would be for him. His cock ached with the desire to plunge into your depths, to stretch you open and claim you as his own.
“Slick your clit with your juices,” he commanded, his breath coming faster now. “Get it nice and wet, just like your hungry little hole. Pretend it's my tongue, teasing and circling as I taste your sweet cum.”
You moaned, your hair spreading across the sheets as you rubbed yourself harder. "tell me what to do, tell me what your good girl needs to do?"
Anakin's heart raced as he watched you come undone on the screen, your hair splayed across the sheets, your hips rocking against your hand as you rubbed yourself with wanton desperation. Your breathy moans and whimpers filled his ears, spurring on his own desperate stroking.
"You're being such a good girl for me," he praised, his voice a low, approving growl. "Touching yourself just like I told you to. So eager and obedient."
He could see how soaked your panties were, the lace darkened with your juices, your pussy aching to be filled. His cock throbbed in his fist, the head flushed a deep, angry red, leaking steadily now.
"Take off your bra," he ordered, his voice a commanding rumble. "I want to see your perfect tits bouncing free. Play with your nipples as you fuck yourself with your fingers."
Anakin's breath caught in his throat as he drank in the perfect sight of your breasts spilling free from your bra, the delicate pink of your nipples a perfect match to the lingerie that hugged your curves. They were even more beautiful than he had imagined, full and round, the peaks already hardened into tight little buds just beginning to be touched.
"Your tits are perfect," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "Even better than I dreamed they would be."
He tightened his grip around his throbbing cock, pumping himself faster as he watched you on the screen. The sight of you touching yourself, playing with your dripping cunt and your perfect breasts, was almost too much to bear.
"Pinch your nipples," he commanded, his voice a low, dominating growl. "Roll and tug on them, just like I would with my fingers. Imagine it's my mouth, my teeth grazing the sensitive flesh."
He could only imagine the taste of you, the feeling of your hardened nubs against his tongue as he sucked and teased, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. His cock throbbed in his hand, the pleasure building to a fever pitch as he watched you pleasure yourself just for him.
With one hand you squeezed your breast, pinching the nipple until it hardened completely, without ever stopping touching yourself. "Uhm, talk dirty to me, tell me what you're doing, what my body makes you feel."
Anakin groaned as he watched you touch yourself with wild abandon. "I'm stroking my hard, aching cock as I watch you. Watching you play with your perfect tits, squeezing and pinching those pretty pink nipples until they're stiff peaks."
"I can feel every inch of you, even from here. The way your tight little pussy clenches around your fingers as you fuck yourself, so desperate for more. The way your breasts bounce and jiggle as you touch yourself, just the way I want to touch them."
He pumped his cock faster, the slick sounds of his stroking filling the air. "I'm imagining burying my face between your legs, my tongue delving deep into your sweet cunt. Licking up every drop of your juices, fucking you with my tongue until you scream."
"I want to bite down on your nipples, to mark you as mine. I want to suck and tease until you're writhing beneath me, begging for more. Tell me what you want, sweetheart," he growled, his breath ragged and intense. "What does my good girl need?"
"I want to cum, daddy." You whimpered, confused in your haze of pleasure, taking a few seconds to realize what had slipped from your tongue.
"Daddy?" Anakin retorted, his deep voice filling your room and making you open your eyes, your cheeks flushing.
Anakin froze, his heart pounding in his chest as the words echoed in his ears. Daddy. It had slipped out, a moment of unguarded passion and desperation. For a moment, he felt a pang of unease, a flicker of doubt. This was wrong, he knew it was. He was crossing a line, one that he shouldn't be crossing.
"I'm sorry, I, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," you mumbled nervously.
But as he looked at you on the screen, flushed and panting, your gorgeous body on display just for him, he felt his resolution crumble. He wanted you, more than anything. And if you wanted to call him daddy, if that's what got you off...
"Shh, it's okay, sweetheart," he soothed, his voice a low, intimate murmur. "I like it. I like it a lot."
He stroked himself slower, more deliberately, putting on a show for you. "Tell me what you want daddy to do to you."
He wanted to hear you say it, to put voice to the filthy, forbidden thoughts running through your mind. He wanted to be the one to bring you to the edge, to make you scream and shake and cum harder than you ever had before.
"Beg for it, baby. Beg daddy to make you cum."
"Please, daddy, I want to cum so bad, I want you to guide me, let your voice take me to heaven" you whine, feeling the descent of your hips warming up.
Anakin's heart raced as he listened to your desperate pleas, his cock throbbing and pulsing in his hand. The way you said daddy, the need and longing in your voice, it set him on fire. He stroked himself faster, the slick sounds of his hand pumping his shaft filling the room.
"Fuck, I love hearing you beg for it like that," he groaned, his voice a low, approving rumble. "Like a needy little girl begging her daddy to take care of her."
He could feel your desperation, the way your hips were rocking and grinding against your fingers, chasing your climax. He wanted to be the one to give it to you, to feel your cunt clench and flutter around his cock as he fucked you into oblivion.
"Focus on my voice, baby. Let it guide you, take you higher," he commanded, his breath coming faster now. "Imagine it's my hands on your body, touching and stroking every inch of you."
"Fuck yourself harder, sweetheart. Shove your fingers deep inside your greedy little cunt. Imagine it's my cock, stretching you open, filling you up." Anakin murmured, his voice husky and engaging. "Let yourself go, baby. Cum for daddy. Cum all over your fingers like the good little girl you are. Let me hear you scream."
Anakin grunted and shuddered as he watched you come undone, your body convulsing on the screen as the intense waves of your climax crashed over you. The sound of your scream, raw and primal, filled the air as you cried out his name, your pussy clenching and fluttering around your fingers in ecstasy.
"Fuck yes, that's it! Cum for daddy, baby! Cum hard on your fingers like a good girl," he roared, his own orgasm surging through him as he stroked himself to completion. Thick ropes of hot, sticky seeds erupted from his cock, spurting onto his hand and stomach as he rode out the intense pleasure.
He couldn't take his eyes off you, drinking in every second of your pleasure, the way your gorgeous tits bounced and jiggled as you writhed and bucked beneath your own touch. He felt a surge of male pride and possessiveness, knowing that he had brought you to such heights of ecstasy.
"You're so fucking beautiful when you cum for me," he breathed, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. "Such a perfect, perfect good girl for daddy."
"And this is just the beginning, sweetheart. Wait until I get my hands on you for real."
"I'll wait, daddy," you whimpered, your eyes blinking back to focus on his face after your mind-blowing orgasm. "I'll count the days until it happens."
Anakin's heart raced as he heard your breathless promise, a thrill running through him at the thought of the forbidden future that lay ahead. The knowledge that you would be waiting for him, eager and ready, made his spent cock twitch and started to fill and harden once more.
"I'll be counting down the days too, baby girl," he murmured. "Already thinking about all the naughty, filthy things I'm going to do to this sexy little body of yours."
He took in the sight of you, flushed and panting, your skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat from your intense climax. The lingerie you wore, the lingering desire for you... it was all seared into his mind, a deliciously sinful memory to treasure.
"But for now, you should get some rest, sweetheart. Recover your strength. Because when I finally have you in my arms, I'm going to need you at your best. I'm going to fuck you in ways you've never been fucked before."
He reached out to caress the screen, wishing he could feel the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips. "Sweet dreams, my little girl. Dream of daddy, and all the dirty, wonderful things we're going to do together."
"Until next time," he promised darkly, before ending the call with a smile playing at the corner of his lips.
Another request because you asked for them and ilysm!! Dilf!Anakin making the both of you late to a fancy dinner party for his work because you just looked so damn good in that dress that he couldn’t wait till later to have a taste <3
TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.
You knew that look all too well—the dark, heated gaze that signaled his intentions before his lips even moved. Anakin’s possessiveness was intoxicating, a force you could never resist. Deep down, you knew all your efforts to appear poised, to stay composed, would soon unravel like threads pulled loose, dissolving into nothing but a hazy memory.
"Anakin, we’re going to be late..." you murmured, your voice soft but edged with urgency. You clipped the diamond earring onto your ear, the delicate piece shimmering against your skin.
“Let them wait,” he whispered, the words sending heat coursing through your veins. His breath grazed your exposed shoulder as his lips ghosted along the curve of your neck, the touch slow, almost torturously gentle. “I need an appetizer before dinner.”
The quiet command in his tone set your pulse racing. Your breath hitched as you met his gaze in the mirror, those ocean-blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your legs weak. His arms tightened around your waist, possessive, his intention clear—he wasn’t letting you go anywhere.
Before you could process the shift, you found yourself pressed against the wall, your dress hiked up to your hips, one leg draped over his broad shoulder. His mouth was on you, his tongue lapping at your drenched core like a man starved, devouring you with a hunger that stole the breath from your lungs.
“Anakin…” you moaned, the sound of his name dissolving into a whimper as his tongue flicked deeper, teasing your folds. The pleasure was sharp, intoxicating, making your mind blur with need. “The party—”
“Fuck the party,” he growled against your slick heat. He spit directly onto your swollen clit, his lips wrapping around it as he sucked, harder, deeper. The sensation was electric, sending jolts of raw pleasure through your body.
More.
Harder.
You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—all you knew was him.
His grip on your thigh tightened, his fingers digging into your soft skin as his other hand slipped between your legs. His long, skilled fingers found your entrance, teasing before pushing one deep inside, curling against that sensitive spot that made you see stars and your toes scrunching
A broken moan tore from your throat, your hips arching into his mouth. "You like that, baby?" His voice was a low rumble, the teasing edge in his words sending a new wave of heat through you.
All you could do was nod, helpless under his touch, your hands bracing against the wall as if you could ground yourself from the storm he was creating inside you.
“Use your words,” he murmured "just like big girls do" his smirk evident in his voice as he added a second finger, stretching you. The pleasure was maddening, pushing you closer to the edge, your body trembling under his control.
“A-Ani…” you gasped, barely able to form his name.
“Damn, you taste so fucking good,” he groaned, his lips vibrating against your swollen clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. The heat in your core coiled tighter, threatening to snap, your body spiraling out of control under his relentless assault.
You were already on the verge of breaking, your voice ragged as you pleaded, “Please, I need more...”
"Yeah, baby?" His voice was thick with lust, his fingers curling inside you with precision, dragging against your walls in a way that made your breath stutter. “Then come for me. Show me how good daddy’s tongue feels. Give me that sweet cream.”
Your breath caught, your entire body trembling as he doubled down—his tongue flicking against your clit while his fingers pumped harder, faster. The intensity was too much, pushing you straight into oblivion.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he growled against your wetness, his teeth grazing your sensitive bud, pushing you over the edge. “Cream all over daddy’s face. Be my good girl.”
The orgasm ripped through you, violent and all-consuming. Your legs shook, the pleasure so overwhelming you thought you might shatter beneath it. You cried out his name, your hands scrabbling for purchase against the wall as waves of ecstasy washed over you.
Anakin slowed, drawing out every last pulse of your release, savoring it. His fingers slipped from your trembling core, and he straightened, his eyes dark with satisfaction. He brought his slick-coated fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste your juices.
“Sweetest nectar I’ve ever had,” he rasped, licking his fingers clean.
Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, your legs still weak from the intensity of it all. Anakin smirked, that cocky, dangerous smile that never failed to make your stomach flip. With casual ease, he adjusted your panties, smoothing your dress back down over your hips like he hadn’t just wrecked you.
He glanced down at his watch, his expression annoyingly composed. “We’ll be fashionably late,” he said, as if he hadn’t just reduced you to a shaking mess against the wall.
18+ smut, stripper!reader x dilf!anakin, age gap, lap dance, mutual masturbation, fem!reader/afab!reader | word count: 2.8k (not proofread).
Everyone say "thank you Anya".
After a nasty divorce, Anakin Skywalker wanted nothing to do with dates— let alone random hookups. Call him outdated or old-fashioned, but Anakin firmly believed in marriage. Maybe he just had bad luck. He has better things to worry about! His children, his company, his 850 credit card score, and… keeping up with his overly cheerful assistant.
Who somehow, managed to convince him to visit the best nightclub in town— and by nightclub, she meant strip club.
Standing outside the bright building, Anakin wondered how many neon signs were too much. He flickered his cigarette with his thumb, dialing his assistant’s number and watching the ashes fly with the wind, he just wished his hopes didn’t fly that easily. After a few rings, she picked up. “I’m here,” Anakin informed her, feeling as if he was about to start a super-secret mission and he was calling HQ. Lisseth is right, he stays too much at home watching cheesy, 90s TV shows. “Are you sure this is the right place?”
“Is it obnoxiously bright?” Lisseth asked from the other side of the line, and Anakin discerned the faint click of a lighter.
“Yes.”
“Then you’re in the right place.”
“Can you repeat why am I here again?” Anakin asked, rubbing his forehead and throwing the cigarette away.
“Because you are lonely, divorced, and old?” His assistant replied, presumably smoking as well.
“I should fire you.”
“But you won’t,” He didn’t have to see her to know she was smirking. Lisseth was right, she was one of the few people besides Obi-Wan Kenobi— his business partner— who dared to say things straight, and people like that were a nice change in a world where everyone fights for your favor. “Go inside, give it a chance. You deserve a change of scenery. I know you are the committed type. Give yourself a chance.”
Anakin hesitated again, just like he did when he agreed when the young woman texted him the address, and when he called the cab. He had no idea why she would suggest this place from the many—many strip clubs in the city, but he knew better than to question her. He looked around, it was not like he would care if someone recognized him— he just… didn’t want to be recognized. Big difference, or at least that was what Anakin kept repeating.
“Hello?” Lisseth said which brought Anakin back to his senses. He was overthinking it. How can you overthink walking into a strip club? Men do it all the time! “Are you alive?”
“I am.”
“Good. Now get inside, I think there’s an ATM next to the bathroom. I don’t remember— and dial me if you need anything, I’ll try to stay awake.”
Anakin hung up the call, taking a deep breath and pushing the black door open. Multiple times he had heard his associates talk about this place; how the drinks are great and the girls are better— which perhaps was a reason why Anakin was so reluctant. If a married man found this place appealing, he couldn’t imagine what it would have in storage for a divorced man.
Inside the club, the neon lights were far worse. His eyesight wasn’t bad but the dazzled effect was overwhelming. Anakin fought the urge to rub his eyes, he didn’t want to look that old— so he just brushed the wrinkles off his suit and approached the bar. The bartender eyed up curiously but simply greeted him. The place was crowded but it was somehow comfortable to navigate, he saw a few girls but he felt somewhat strange to stare at them for long. He wasn’t in his twenties anymore— he wasn’t able to see them as a piece of meat like he used to (last time he did he got his first and only wife knocked up). So he just thanked the bartender for his whiskey and took a long sip, hoping it would ease the knot in his stomach. He was a fast drinker, and he was halfway done with the glass when he heard a voice behind him and a soft tap on his shoulder.
“Is this seat taken?”
Your hand on his shoulder was gentle, but Anakin was aware of the salacious undertone in your voice. It was all fake, part of your job. Looking over said shoulder, his blue eyes met your face, and probably for the first time in your life working in the strip club— you found yourself speechless. You have never seen eyes in such a shade of blue, so deep and so easily to lose yourself in. Your glossy lips went dry for a second and you weren’t sure if he felt the same.
“It is not,” He replied, grabbing your hand and guiding you to the empty stool next to him. His hand was strong and warm, too polite for a man who was here to watch women half naked. You took a seat next to him just like you intended but your demeanor switched, which was something that surprised you. The blonde stranger didn’t seem to notice it, he knows nothing about you. For the first time, that has worked in your favor. “The name’s Anakin.”
He let go of your hand and you found your finger twitching against your bare thigh. You gave him your stage name and he simply smiled back, bringing the glass up to his lips. You leaned closer, placing your trembling hand on his thigh and squeezing it softly, noticing how his eyes drifted down to your cleavage only to go back to your face. “What brings you here, handsome?” The usual repertory was filled with cheesy phrases, sweet talk, and 101 manipulations. Emptying a man’s wallet wasn’t a hard thing, or at least after months of practice it no longer seemed like a challenge.
“I assume the same as every man here,” Anakin replied, tilting his head and maintaining eye contact. He was good, he must be an orator or something. Not everyone can stare into your eyes when your tits are literally out. “But being honest, a… friend of mine insisted.”
“Well, then you have a good friend,” You smiled, thanking whoever pushed him into your arms— even if you already knew the culprit. “Is there anything I can help you with?” Your fingers play with the hem of his white button-up, tapping your nails over the ironed fold.
“I have a few ideas,” He lowers his now empty glass, licking his lips. A simple act shouldn’t excite you but Oh it does. He looks like the type of guy who knows how to please a woman and the type of guy to rock your world…
Too bad that’s against the club’s guidelines.
“Such as?”
Anakin seemed to fall under your sultry voice, smirking and bringing his face closer to yours. You thought for a moment he was going to kiss you, but he just whispered in your ear. “I’m sure you know what I want, and I’m sure you are tired of small talk. Do us a favor and tell me what I can and can’t do.”
This was the second time in the night you found yourself speechless. Normally you are the one being straightforward, so why is that handsomely old man doing your job? Unbeknownst to you, Anakin’s heart was racing inside his chest at light speed. It has been years since he last flirted with someone, let alone a stripper— so he felt quite rough around the edges. It seemed to be working, or at least you faked it really well. Anakin’s charm never faded, even if he wasn’t fully aware of it. His bright smile and those wrinkles around his eyes… he could easily be your dad, which shouldn’t be as hot as it sounded. You ran your fingers through his blonde hair, silky and smooth. God, there’s nothing hotter than a man that takes care of his appearance.
“Follow me then,” You manage to say through the loud heartbeat that drowns the loud music around you. You have done this countless times, but this was somewhat different. Why were you acting brand new? Get a damn grip. “You seem like a man who can afford our special treatment.”
Anakin chuckled, he never thought getting robbed would be so sexy. “Do I look special? Or do you say that to every guy?” He followed you anyway, surprisingly lacing your fingers together. His eyes never left yours, not even when other girls and dancers called for him.
“Believe it or not, you look special.”
As you guided him inside the farthest room in the hallway, you locked the door and kindly settled him on the large sofa against the wall. There was a bed in the center of the bed and a pole next to it, but mostly for decoration. Not everyone had the privilege to fuck, lucky ones got to touch— but Anakin looked like he could win the lottery. This time he eyed you up and down, relaxing over the velvety cushions and spreading his legs. You’ve seen men sit that way countless times yet the way he did it was abysmally distinct. He had an air around him that no one could match and it truly excited you. Time wasn’t really a problem in this room, and he looked like someone who could treat themselves. The treat is a lap dance, of course.
You picked the music, and that was the only thing that fitted into your routine. The top piece of your heels sank into the fluffy carpet as you made your way back to him, deliberately swaying your hips. Comfortably, you straddled his lap, lazily draping your arms over his shoulders. Anakin’s hands touched your hips and you were about to warn him about the rules… but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at that moment.
“You’re beautiful,” He whispered, his voice already hoarse. How long has this man been pent up? Only God knows. You giggled and began grinding against him, running your hands up his shoulders and cupping his face. Anakin’s eyes left your breasts to meet yours, lidded eyes heavy with ecstasy that the erotic dance brought him. “So fucking beautiful…”
His presence was starting to be a problem, at least for you. You couldn’t look away or stop your hips from rolling over his growing erection. It was highly unprofessional, even for a stripper but you’ve done worse things— to uglier men. Anakin hissed when you fully sat on top of him, and the grip on your hips tightened. The song changed and neither of you was aware of it.
Returning your hands to his shoulders you used them as leverage to move, basically humping him without realizing it. You could lie and say this was part of the dance— but in reality, your body was moving on its own.
“Can I touch you?” Anakin requested, huffing and lifting his hips. His cock was aching but not fully hard yet. The right answer was to say no… so your hands reached for his and placed them over your chest. He sighed in clear contentment and cupped your tits, jiggling them softly and running his thumbs over your nipples, teasing you until they peeked underneath the sheer fabric of your lace bra.
The urge to thank him was very, very present. Words failed you as he lowered the cups of your bra, leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his eager mouth. Instantly, you tugged on his curls, just noticing the silver strands. He groaned against your flesh, tugging on your sensitive bud with his teeth and guiding you with his free hand. The dance quickly turned into a session of dry humping— not that you had any complaints.
Anakin then cupped your center, rubbing his index finger through the thin thong and pushing it to the side. Everything was escalating too quickly and you needed to even it out— mostly to defend your pride— so you quickly unbuckled his belt, and Anakin didn’t even flinch. The tip of his finger ran through your folds and quickly found your clit, faster than any other man you’ve been with. You gasped, yanking his black boxers and biting your lip when you saw his cock. He was fully hard now and it looked like it fucking hurt. Above than average was your first thought, followed by the incessant desire to have him stretch you. From zero to a hundred, probably. Your hand looked tiny around his shaft, which sent a thrill of excitement down your spine. Anakin rolled his eyes and jerked his hips, silently asking for more. He circled your clit with practiced ease and that confirmed your suspicions— he is the type of man who knows what he’s doing and how to do it.
“Are you always this wet for your clients or am I really special?” Anakin taunted you as if he wasn’t the one paying for the fucking lap dance. To confirm his accusation— because yes, it was an accusation— he sank a finger inside you, curling it softly and rubbing your walls at a slow pace. “I’m starting to think you don’t do this for everyone.”
“I don’t,” You choke, panting and determined to not be left behind. You began jerking him up at the same speed he fingered you. “It takes two to tango, you know?”
Anakin laughed. He dared to laugh. God, this man… “You are feisty, I like that.”
The damned butterflies returned, this time fluttering around your stomach and your pussy. Anakin was good at this. He wasn’t the average pathetic man who couldn’t understand the touch of a woman, nor an ancient dinosaur that was cheating on his wife and shamelessly rocking their wedding band as they threw dollars to your feet. No, he was one in a million. He noticed your silence and took advantage of your blissful state, adding a second finger and scissoring them inside you. If you knew better you would’ve thought he was stretching you. Stepping up your game, you stroke his cock faster, bringing your free hand to your mouth to spit on it, using both hands to touch him.
That seemed to be a weak spot for him, and you actually heard him moan. It was a raw, guttural groan that made your pussy clench around his fingers. Looking down, you saw the wet, throbbing head, now glistening with your spit and the smeared precum. You could swear he looked thicker— or maybe it was your burning delirium for having him rearranging your guts.
He wasn’t one to back up from a clear challenge, so he rubbed his fingers against your G-spot repeatedly, pressing tight circles over the spongy spot. Your hips jerked just like he did moments prior and for the first time in a while, you moaned someone else’s name. Anakin seemed to be pleased by your reaction and continued it, exclusively stimulating that spot that built up the recognizable pressure in a matter of seconds.
“I’m gonna come,” You whimpered, closing your eyes. Anakin’s jaw clenched at the way your pussy sucked his fingers. Would you suck his cock with your velvety walls the same way? “Please, don’t stop.”
“Hold it,” He hissed but it wasn’t a request or anything. “I want to do it with you.”
You held your breath, flicking your wrist up and down, moaning repeatedly at the expertise of his touch. The knot in your lower stomach threatened to snap and holding it was borderline painful. The loud squelch of your cunt made the music surrounding you irrelevant, it was new music that was indeed expensive but— pornographically beautiful. Anakin hung his head back with a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. His scent was intoxicating, the mixture of his— surely fucking expensive— cologne, aftershave, and salty sweat was drowning you in a needy mess. Dragging you down to his spell when it was supposed to be the other way around.
“Do it,” He urged you, repeating it over and over. His hard cock twitched in your hands repeatedly until he groaned loudly and his release crashed with yours. “Come for me— come on, princess.”
Your walls gushed around his fingers, coating them in your own arousal seconds before his cum landed on your hands and your thighs— some on his thighs too. You called his name again, this time in a high-pitched moan. Anakin continued until you were on the verge of tears from the overstimulation, absentmindedly jerking his cock again as it started to soften in your hands. Your sweaty bodies were a mess of combined fluids and… broken rules.
You were in so much trouble.
“See what special guests get?” You painted, finally retrieving his hands from his dick and fixing your bra. “You should be thankful.”
“Oh, believe me. I am,” Anakin purred, grabbing your hips and yanking you closer, finally pressing his lips against yours. “Hope you have a better treat for regular special guests.”
You really, really needed to thank homegirl for bringing him here.
Anakin Skywalker gets a new assistant, who also happens to be his favorite OnlyFans performer.
◂ previous ▸ chapter two
rating: explicit | pairing: anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 3.7k | read on ao3
warnings: modern!au, undisclosed age gap, SMUT [use of toys (dildo and fleshlight), mutual masturbation, squirting, watching of pornography]
After midnight is Anakin’s favorite time of the day. His kids have been asleep since 8:30 pm and he’s finally stopped working on the project he brought home with him. It kept him from watching 101 Dalmatians with Luke and Leia but the deadline was… 6 days ago. So it had to get done.
He completed it well after the twins went to sleep, his neck is aching, and now he needs to unwind. He’s settled on the left side of his king bed, back propped against the headboard and his tablet waiting for him on the nightstand. He’s been thinking about this moment all day. Ever since he got the notification at 1:48pm that HoneySuckle uploaded a new video.
Anakin’s first thought was “why did she have to upload while I’m at work?” On a very, very busy day he might add. As much as he wanted to get away and watch it immediately, he couldn’t. But now he has uninterrupted time to enjoy himself and the woman he’s about to indulge in.
For three years now, Anakin has been subscribed to HoneySuckle on Fatal Fantasies, an equivalent to OnlyFans he found during Covid. He watches HoneySuckle exclusively. Her monthly subscription price of $7.99 is an absolute disgrace to the quality of content she puts out. That’s why Anakin has been tipping her at least $200 per video. It’s a number that hardly means anything to Anakin. He doesn’t even hesitate. She has expressed her thanks to him in private messages and the two of them have been messaging for 2 years now.
Anakin knows it’s wrong to want more from her, but he craves a deeper connection with this woman. It goes beyond all rationality and actuality, but… as silly as it is to say, he’s felt less lonely since he began talking to her. Honestly, he could go without the videos at this point. He’s enjoyed learning what little information she’s willing to give him— what the extra went to that week. Fixing the flat tire on her Mini Cooper, the vet bill for her orange tabby, Panini.
But it’s just not enough. Their casual conversations are never enough.
It comes as a great surprise to Anakin to see that her newest video is dedicated to him. Him- skyguy81.
Squirting for Sky 🖤
He’s never clicked on anything faster in his life. The edges of his brain begin to fog… the mere thought of HoneySuckle getting off to the thought of him makes goosebumps prickle along his skin and his cock begin to swell. He takes in her figure, breasts already exposed. She’s wearing a black garter and thong with roses embroidered in the mesh along her hip bones. Sheer black stockings are pulled up to her thighs and as she spreads her legs— dear God, her panties are crotchless.
This 23 minute video is not going to be kind to Anakin. He just knows it. She’s just so damn beautiful. He’s never seen her entire face, but it doesn’t matter. He respects the anonymity she’s wanted to maintain for her safety.
“I bought this just for you, Sky,” HoneySuckle murmurs. “You said you liked black. I hope you like this.” She grabs the vibrator next to the dildo on her bed.
“I love it,”Anakin mumbles to himself. Running her hand over one of her breasts, she turns on the vibrator. The familiar hum of the toy reminds Anakin to put on his headphones. Just in case…
Now with that taken care of, Anakin can begin taking care of himself. It doesn’t take long for him to get hard when he’s watching HoneySuckle. Hell, he can just think about her and he’ll be horny. It’s like he’s a goddamn hormonal teenager. The melodic cadence to her voice, the angelic sounds she makes when she cums. It all just fills him with this lustful desire to bury himself in her cunt. It’s fucking ridiculous. She’s the only woman he’s truly desired since his wife and he doesn’t even know her name. But he knows the curves of her body as if he’s felt them with his own two hands. God, how he wishes he could touch her, kiss her, pleasure her.
It’s pathetic. He is pathetic for wanting the impossible. Anakin Skywalker is a smart man. A genius in many regards. Yet he’s delusional enough to think her messages might mean something. That this video dedicated to him means something.
Of course, it doesn’t. Everything about his conversations with Honey is transactional. It’s part of her job. That’s it. Nothing more. You’re not special.
But fuck, does it make his cock hard thinking this is all for him. Well, this is for him. The title of the video says so. With her legs spread nice and wide, Anakin can see how wet she has become from the vibrator on her clit.
Stiff and dribbling precum on his belly, Anakin wraps his long fingers around his shaft. He swipes his palm over the tip to lubricate the rest of him. Honey has now turned off the vibrator and grabs the dildo. It appears to be a similar size to Anakin’s. She opens her mouth and the tip disappears. Then a little bit more… and a little more… until she’s gagging. She pulls it out of her mouth with a loud gasp. Messy strings of saliva fall on her chin and chest.
“Fuck,” she breathes. “I love choking on your cock. Feeling it so deep in my throat until I can’t breathe.”
This sends a jolt through Anakin’s whole body. His cock lurches in his hand and he knows all too well that his hand will simply not suffice tonight. He pauses Honey’s video and reluctantly gets off of bed to retrieve his Fleshlight from his hidden stash in the closet. Usually, his hand does just fine. He’s used to it by now. Being a single dad in his early forties and the CEO of his own company, he doesn’t have time to go on dates. He has one woman on his rolodex of hookup numbers and even then, he doesn’t contact her often. Usually it’s her who needs him. He prefers it that way, anyway.
Anakin returns to his bed with the barely used Fleshlight in hand and immediately resumes the video. Honey continues to give the dildo a blowjob, making Anakin ache for it to be his cock in her mouth. He can only imagine how warm it is. How he’d make her relax so he can shove his entire length down her throat. How she’d sound choking on his dick and not some pink toy.
Again, she holds it in her mouth until her lungs are screaming for air. Anakin ruts his hips up into his fist. He’s waiting to use the Fleshlight until she puts the toy in her cunt.
Which is right now. She lines the tip of it to her opening, pushing the head in teasingly before removing it and dragging it along her folds.
“Have you been good today? Do you deserve to fuck me?” The seductive nature of HoneySuckle’s voice is so familiar to Anakin, yet every time dirty talk drips from her lips, his spine tingles.
“Please, HoneySuckle,” Anakin whispers, hovering the opening of the Fleshlight over his cock. “Put it in, baby.”
As if obeying his command, HoneySuckle pushes the toy into her hole. At the same time, Anakin lowers his own toy onto himself. The tight Fleshlight sucks in his dick and it damn near has Anakin’s eyes rolling to the back of his head. He’d forgotten what it feels like… how similar yet different it is to real pussy. Fuck, what he would do to have his cock in HoneySuckle’s actual cunt. The best he can do is use his overactive imagination.
HoneySuckle is thrusting the dildo in and out of her and soft moans fill Anakin’s ears. He yanks the Fleshlight up and down—a lazy way of using it, he knows— but it does the job. “That’s it…” he breathes. His heartbeat is racing impossibly fast, chasing down an orgasm that is going to arrive far too soon. “I fuck you so well, don’t I, baby?”
“Mm…” she whimpers, pushing the toy deeper and further into her. “Your cock’s so big… fills me up so well. Feels so good!”
“You have no idea how good I could make you feel,” Anakin growls. In his mind she’s on her back, just as she is now. Her knees are pushed up to her ears and Anakin is thrusting into her tight hole to no end. He’s so deep, he can see himself in her stomach. He kisses her, finally tasting her on his own lips. Their tongues are doing a dance, his fingers are on her clit for maximum pleasure. And she’s screaming his name. She can’t believe how good he fucks. How he, at 42 years old, can last as long as he has. “I’m not fucking geriatric,” he’d say. He’d make her cum at least twice before he does, just to prove a point.
HoneySuckle then takes the dildo out of her cunt and brings it back up to her mouth. Anakin removes the Fleshlight. She hollows her cheeks around it whilst reaching for the vibrator. She turns it back on and returns it to her clit. Her toes curl at the sensation and a moan is muffled by the cock in her mouth.
“Let me hear you,” Anakin encourages, no matter how silly and pointless it is to do so. “Please, HoneySuckle. I love hearing you moan.”
She takes the dildo out of her mouth to announce that she’s going to cum. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!”
She’s squirming on the bed, mouth shaped in that glorious ‘O’. As her orgasm rattles through her body, she keeps the vibrator on her swollen numb and returns the dildo to her pussy. Anakin follows suit and sheathes his cock once again, thrusting his hips up to the speed Honey is fucking herself.
“I hope you…fuck, that feels good,” she is interrupted by her own pleasure. It’s her authenticity that Anakin adores and enjoys the most. It never feels like she’s performing. “I hope you’re making yourself feel as good as I feel. Are you fucking your hand? Your mattress? A pillow? I bet you wish you were in my tight cunt. Don’t you?”
“Yes,” Anakin breathes. He is on fire now. He’s not sure the coil in his belly could get any tighter. He’s going to cum soon and Honey hasn’t even squirted yet. There’s five minutes left of the video. “You wouldn’t believe—ah, fucking hell— wouldn’t believe how badly I want to fuck you.”
“I’m gonna squirt! Oh my God…please cum for me. Cum while I squirt for you!” HoneySuckle removes the dildo as the clear liquid sprays from her cunt. Anakin abandons the Fleshlight and takes over with his tried and true hand. He’s pumping quickly, he’s mesmerized by HoneySuckle and how she squirts a little more each time she puts the dildo back inside of her and pulls it back out. Her back is arching off of the bed as she drops both toys and cums one last time.
Anakin is cumming now, too. His sack twitches up toward him while he releases his load on his belly. He stuffs a fist into his mouth to silence his moan. He bites down on his own hand with fervor, and it hurts. He hasn’t even fully finished when he hears her utter the words ‘last video.’
Wait, what?
He needs to go back. Surely, he didn’t hear her correctly.
“I hope you all enjoyed yourselves while watching. I know I did. This is a bit of a last hurrah for me. I’m starting a new job next week and I just don’t think I’ll have the time to upload, so this might be my last video. Thank you for all of the support over the last three years. I had a great time. Kisses, HoneySuckle.”
And that’s the end of it. Anakin is stunned. He watches that last part again. And then once more. There's a lilt to her voice that makes Anakin think she is happy to be done with this. He should be happy for her. But he hangs onto the word ‘might’.
HoneySuckle said this might be her last video. Anakin shouldn’t feel so fucking relieved that his favorite Fatal Fantasies performer might still upload videos. What is wrong with him? He has no real connection to her whatsoever yet he feels disappointed by the idea of not having her videos in his life anymore.
Fuck it. He sends her a $500 tip, a little message and goes to wash up.
.
.
.
Panini is pressed against your side, purring contentedly while you stroke his back absently. You’re wrapped in a sherpa cozy in bed while watching The Great British Bake Off. It’s your bedtime show. You’ve probably seen every series at least 3 times, simply because it’s the show you put on to go to sleep. But most of the time, you end up staying up to watch it as if you’ve never seen it before.
Your phone lights up with a notification. You glance at it but immediately do a double take. You grab your phone off of your nightstand and stare at the screen with your jaw dropped.
Skyguy81 sent you a tip!
$500
You pause in the middle of Prue Leith giving her thoughts on someone’s Showstopper. You swipe right to open the message.
Spectacular as always, HoneySuckle. From the lingerie to the beautiful way you cum, you certainly know how to put on a show. I must admit, I’m disappointed to hear that it might be your last video. You are the only performer I watch. I will miss you- uh, your videos ;)
I wish you the best of luck with your new endeavor.
And I know what you’re going to say. It is not too much. Please accept this tip as a token of my appreciation. You helped me feel less lonely on the days I needed someone the most.
Sky
Why do you feel like you’re about to cry? Sky has been your top supporter since you began uploading videos during COVID. It was just supposed to be a way to make ends meet. To pay off the student loans and any other financials that came up. The tips started off relatively small. $50 here, $75 there. He was the first to give you a $100 tip.
Then, after about a year, he upped it to $200 after each video. Your thank you messages to him turned into conversations. Short ones, never deep or personal, yet you feel like you know him. You feel like…no, it’s silly. You feel like he could be a friend. If you both weren’t hiding behind a screen and fake names, maybe you actually could be.
You begin typing a response.
Sky- I am going to say it anyway. THAT IS WAY TOO MUCH!!! You have been far too generous to me over the years. I don’t deserve it.
He replies in a matter of seconds.
I have to disagree. I wish I could do more for you.
Like what?
I would take you out to a nice dinner. Perhaps share a bottle of wine while we get to know each other.
Would you take me home after?
Whose home?
Whichever you’d like.
I’d take you back to your house and leave you with a goodnight kiss.
That’s all?
You would like more?
What the hell are you doing? Are you actually flirting with this man? He could be 60 years old and bald! Not that there’s anything wrong with being 60 or bald, but come on. You’re in your 20s. You have to have some limit. You stare at his username. Skyguy81. Maybe 81 is his birth year? So, that would put him at 42. 42 isn’t too bad…
Oh, what the hell. It’s not like you’re actually gonna meet this guy, right?
Well, I might wear something special underneath my dress. Something that I paid for with the money you’ve given me. Wouldn’t you want to see it?
Yes. I would.
What would you do if you took me home?
When you don’t hear back from Sky after thirty minutes, you assume he fell asleep. It is nearly 1 a.m. on a Thursday night. Or is it early Friday morning? Regardless, he probably has work in the morning.
With a rather loud yawn, you decide it’s time for you to go to sleep, too.
.
.
.
Luke and Leia barge into Anakin’s room at 7:30, dressed and ready to go to school while their dad is still fast asleep. He must have slept through his alarm. Luke is poking him in the side and urging him to wake up.
“Alright, I’m up,” he grumbles, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Have you two eaten?”
Leia nods. “Eggos and orange juice.”
“I wanted a Toaster Strudel,” Luke says.
“And I told him we don’t have any Toaster Strudels,” replies his twin sister.
“Yes we do! You just didn’t look hard enough.”
Anakin pinches the bridge of his nose. He feels a headache coming on. He didn’t drink last night, so why does he feel hungover? “Ahsoka ate the last one when she was here on Tuesday, remember?”
“Oh yeah,” Luke recalls.
“Dad, we’re gonna be late for school if you don’t get out of bed,” Leia says.
Anakin checks the time on his phone. Your message from last night is at the bottom of his notifications. He already has five work emails to answer. His calendar pings with reminders about meetings and his assistant’s retirement party. “Bring your things to the front door. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
In the rush of getting himself dressed, not only does he put on two different pairs of socks but two different pairs of shoes, too. He doesn’t realize this until after he enters the office and Dorothy, attentive as ever, points it out as he’s walking past her desk and into his office.
Dorothy is 74 years old, a widow, and owl fanatic. She has been Anakin’s assistant since he started the company 20 years ago. “Did you get dressed in the dark, Mr. Skywalker?”
Even after two decades of Anakin’s insistence on calling him by his first name, Dorothy continues to defy him. “I overslept,” Anakin answers. “I was rushing to get ready because you know how Leia gets when she’s late to anything.”
Dorothy nods. “Yes, she is the most punctual 9 year old I know. I presume you did not eat breakfast.”
“No, I didn’t.” Anakin opens his emails.
“Why don’t I get you an egg sandwich from Dexter’s after I retrieve a matching pair to one of your shoes.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Anakin cracks a smile. Dorothy has always been two steps ahead of Anakin. She’s been somewhat of a mother figure to him over the years. She believed in him when no one else did. How many people are going to put their faith in a cocky 22 year old with wild engineering innovations? Dorothy was there when his wife passed away and nannied the twins off and on for a few years while Anakin regained his bearings. His heart contracts. He is truly going to miss her. “Do you really have to retire, Dorothy?”
“I’m afraid so,” Dorothy replies with a bittersweet smile. “You will be just fine. And I trust my successor will attend to your needs just as well as I have. I picked her myself. I know exactly what you need in an assistant, Mr. Skywalker.”
Did Dorothy just wink at Anakin before leaving his office? What the hell does she have up her sleeve?
.
.
.
Gold and brown leaves dance across the concrete in the courtyard of Skywalker Enterprises. The autumn air bites at your cheeks and you’re thankful you decided to wear a beanie along with your plaid pea coat.
You notice Dorothy’s silver hair before the rest of her as she walks toward you with two cups of something hot in her hands. “Good morning, Y/N.” she hands you the cup.
“Good morning, Dorothy,” you reply with a smile. You lift off the lid to smell the contents. The steam tickles your nose before recognizing the warm spices of Chai. “You remembered my drink order?”
“Of course.” Dorothy sits across from you. “I trust you went over the files I sent you regarding Mr. Skywalker? How are you feeling about the job?”
You take a meager sip of your Chai latte. It’s still too hot to drink. “I read all of them at least three times. He doesn’t seem too high maintenance.”
“Far from it,” Dorothy replies.
“But…” you begin, wondering if you should even mention it.
“What is it, dear?”
“I just find it a little strange that I haven’t met him. I would’ve assumed he’d be part of the hiring process. Isn’t it important we get along?”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. Anakin gets along with everyone! He’s a charmer,” Dorothy sips on her drink. “He entrusted me with finding a replacement for myself because I know him better than anyone. I know his needs better than he knows them. And you, my dear, have shown you are more than capable to take over. Your references spoke very highly of you.”
Right. Your references— one of which was your best friend who pretended to be a famous influencer who you “assisted” for 2 years after college. The other was a family you nannied for for only 2 weeks while the wife was out of town and the dad thought he could pull off some fantasy of fucking the nanny. The only good thing that came out of it was him telling you he’d give you a stellar reference for your next job. Turns out he wasn’t lying.
“So, I’ll start on Monday? By myself? No shadowing or anything?”
Dorothy nods. “I will officially be retired by 5 p.m. today. After which, Mr. Skywalker is yours.”
Don’t you wish. You’ve seen photos of him in Forbes. It’s an understatement to say he’s handsome. And it would be a lie to say you didn’t apply for the job because of his looks. By some miracle you were chosen out of hundreds of applicants and hired. You’ve signed the papers already. You’re officially on the Skywalker Enterprises payroll. Of course, you’ll be on probation for 90 days but Dorothy seems confident you’ll be a good fit.
Hopefully you will live up to Anakin Skywalker’s expectations.
remember to reblog and leave comments to support authors!
•WARNINGS: Semi-smut. Age gap !!! Infidelity kink !!! (you’ve been warned, so if you do not agree pls leave because I’ll delete any hateful comments about this). Dirty talk, teasing in a public space, voyeurism, make out session. Mentions of an unhappy relationship/divorce/troubled marriage.
Pairing: dilf!Anakin Skywalker x female!reader.
Series Summary: Luke takes you home for Life’s Day. On the edge of giving up on you two, Skywalker manages to light up a fire inside of you again. Problem is… wrong Skywalker.
Part Two Summary: After your little moment with Mr. Skywalker last night, you’re determined to persuade your father-in-law into fucking you. Right on the dinner table with everyone else around. Including your boyfriend.
Word count: 3.5K.
Link to Part One
A/N: NOT PROOFREAD, english is my second language, so please be gentle. If there are any mistakes, pls let me know in private so I can correct them, thanks :) Also I have a serious issue between differentiating “in” and “on” situations, so bare with me lmao.
I’m super excited to announce that I’m very motivated to continue the journey of this pairing, so I’ll be turning FYBD into a series! :) but please be patient! I don’t usually deliver short fics, that’s why it takes me so long to post ! (also look at me trying to polish my themes, omg who am I?)
NEXT PART WILL BE PUBLISHED ON SATURDAY !!!! <3 Consider this as a Part 2.1. If you wanna be tag on it, leave me a comment below :)
“Alright, everyone gather at the table! Dinner 's ready!” Padmé yelled, placing the last set of plates while Leia dropped the center piece.
“Sugar, you look like a million bucks.” Luke complimented your outfit while you finished up accessorizing, hiding your eye roll by clipping your earrings.
Last night, you eventually made it to bed with him, feeling uneasy the rest of the night. You gave Luke your back, refusing to cuddle or respond to his arms wrapped around your waist. Tossing and turning, every time you shut down you dreamed about Anakin and his lustful orbs. And, unlike someone with common sense, you didn’t feel guilt from your forbidden target. No, it riled you up even more.
Being spooned by your boyfriend while thinking about his dad.
The naughtiness of it was a thrill you didn’t want to stop chasing.
“Is that dress new?” From the moment you woke up to this very instant, Luke hadn’t stopped apologizing and drowning you in compliments and demonstrations of affection.
Yet you still hadn’t responded to him with the same tenderness, prolonging your fight. The reality was that you had already forgotten all about the “slut” bomb, but staying angry at him somehow justified daydreaming about fucking Anakin.
“Thank you.” You replied coldly, checking yourself one last time in the mirror, turning around to make sure the back side wasn’t wrinkled.
You had chosen the tight, long, black dress even before making it your personal mission to seduce your boyfriend’s dad. You were now thanking Y/n from the past for packing something so flattering and form fitting to this particular event. It’s not like you were out of place, everyone was dressing up as well.
“Guys! I’m not calling you again!” Padmé rushed.
“Y/n I don’t want us to keep fighting… Not this weekend, please?” Luke caught your attention by trapping your hands inside his palms. “I’ll do better. Be more adventurous for you…” He murmured, caressing your arms with tenderness. Arching an eyebrow at your cleavage, “Maybe make it up to you tonight?”
Disappointment settled in your chest at the prospect of not spending the night with Anakin.
“Sure.” You faked a smile. “I’d like that.”
“Great.” He kissed your cheek, missing your horrorized face. “Now, after you, m’lady.” He exaggerated a bow for you to walk in front of him.
You snorted, “You’re such a dork.”
Luke escorted you to the table, pulling your chair to sit right in the middle of him and the empty head of the table. Right in front of you was Padmé, with a gorgeous light blue gown and beside her was Leia, who was trying to sit down Han at the other head of the table.
“I don’t want to sit right in front of your dad!” He whispered-yelled, being harshly pushed by his girlfriend to sit his ass down. To be such a tiny person, she sure was strong.
“Try to bond!” She whispered back, fanning herself so the sweat wouldn’t ruin her makeup.
“I'll get food poisoning” He huffed, crossing his arms in a childish manner. “And he’ll puke in my face.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, accepting Padmé’s offering of a glass of wine while observing Han’s pout.
“Easy for you to laugh, newbie.” He scoffed with his usual feistiness. “Could you please do something despicable so he hates you instead of me?”
Oh, you sure had done something to scare him off.
After he practically ran away from you at full speed, you hadn’t seen him all day. Leia and Han adopted you the whole morning, taking you to pick up some stuff for dinner and showing you around the area. Luke joined in at lunch time, after dealing with a way-too-long call from his friend Din. And even when you came back to the house, Anakin was secluded in his little cave, his personal workshop, in the back of the house and hadn’t showed up at all.
“Y/n, love that dress, you’ll have to lend it to me.” Leia complimented mid sip.
“Manners, Leia.” Padmé scolded her, head moving in disapproval as she set her napkin on her lap.
“You can borrow it whenever you want.” You winked at the short girl, earning a heartfelt smile.
“It’s perfect for my funeral.” Han dramatically threw himself on the backrest.
“Han, I can’t think of something I could do that would make him dislike me more than you.” You joked, cracking a breadstick.
Yes, you could.
“Maybe you could kick R2. At least that’s what Han did.” Luke snorted, Han’s head snapping to send daggers to the blonde.
“I didn’t kick R2!” Han raised his voice while wincing.
“Yeah, you did.” Leia murmured under her breath.
“I accidentally fell on him! How was I supposed to know that he was behind me?” Han freaked out, dramatizing the scenery. “Oh, who am I trying to convince? You already made up your mind about it.” He dismissed the potential debate, shooting the rest of his beer.
“Han, you’re overreacting, he doesn’t hate you.” Padmé reassured him with a soft smile. “That much.” She said under her breath.
“How bad could dad actually be?” Luke rolled his eyes, picking one of the entreés to stuff into his mouth in one bite.
You googled him while you were supposed to be showering: the “Hero with No Fear” had enough battles, manslaughtering and war crimes under his belt for Han’s panic to have grounds, your deep investigation showed.
“Ha! You haven’t endured his bullying for two years.” Han crossed his foot over his knee.
“And counting.” The voice that had you clenching around nothing boomed through the air, his figure appearing just when Han was about to eat a piece of breadstick, immediately choking. “Good, now I don’t have to do it myself…” Anakin muttered under his breath.
Anakin’s eyes widened when he distinguished that the seat reserved for him was right by your side. His usual seat was always at the head of the table, but having you at arm's reach was exceptionally dangerous after the occurrences of last night. It felt like all his hard work of avoiding you all day was just thrown into the trash with a single sweep. He convinced himself that he had to push through dinner, eating faster than usual and quickly returning to his workshop and wait until everybody left the dining room, so he could safely seek refuge in his bedroom.
Nonetheless, faith had a different path for him. One of painful blue balls and heavy sweating.
Why did you have to wear that dress? Was it indeed appropriate for a family dinner or was it just him thinking too much of it with the head inside his pants?
And why were you smirking at him like he was the meal you were about to devour?
“Anakin, good, you’re here. Let’s say grace so we can properly start eating.” Padmé announced, glaring at her son that was currently on his third appetizer.
Padmé thanked the Maker for having the whole family here, making special emphasis on being grateful for you this year, the new member of the family. You popped an eye open, and voilá, Anakin was staring at you while her wife praised you to the rest of the table. Separating your palms from praying position, you dropped one on top of his, careful not to make a single noise. You drew random figures inside his palms with your nail, biting your lip as you checked him out. If his handsome face wasn’t enough already, he was wearing a full suit, black tie on top of a white buttoned up.
Perfect to rip apart.
“And please bless this delicious meal that it’s about to feed us… Amen.” Right before she could pronunciate that final word, Anakin had slapped your hand away. “Alright, let’s dig in! Ani, honey, could you do the honors and carve the turkey?”
Whatever that would keep him away from temptation.
Getting up, Anakin picked up the utensils, turning the turkey around to cut into it. Doing the proper round, he asked every single person their meat preferences before making the incision, starting with his wife. Anakin quickly ruled that him with knives and using his strength to lash a large piece of meat wasn’t the best evasive mechanism when he spotted you drooling over his flexed bicep.
“Dad, I want a leg.” Leia requested, passing up her plate to him.
“Sure, darling.” Anakin propped the leg on her plate carefully. “Good choice.”
“I want one too, please.” Han put his plate up in his direction.
Anakin glared and huffed, but eventually dumped the requested piece on Han’s dish. “Fucking child…”
Giving up, Han dropped on his chair, violently biting the leg. After Luke picked white meat, Anakin had no other choice but to pay attention to you.
“Y/n-” He cleared his throat, ignoring your subtle attempt to press your cleavage against the table so your tits would pop into his vision. “How do you like your meat?”
Anakin regretted that question the second he formulated it. Although, he was appreciative that the brawl between the twins deprived everyone else from your answer.
You offered your plate to him, wide doe eyes as your foot grazed his shin. “I like my meat tender.” Your velvety voice sent an electric wave directly to his groin.
The rest of the dinner was no better.
Playing footsie, curling your hair with your finger, glancing at him longer than necessary, more lascivious than necessary. There was this particular moment that still had his mind-blown: You, leaned over to Luke to whisper something in his ear, gaining a laugh from him in complicity and sealing the adorable scene with a quick peck, all while your sandal made its way up to an escalating boner inside Anakin’s underpants.
“Pass the salt, please.” Anakin requested out loud, clearing his throat, seeking a distraction.
But you were fast as a bolt.
“There you go, sir.” Flashbacks from your face all flustered calling him that kicked in, the salt shaker falling from his hand at his nervousness and the contact of your hand.
“Y/n, question.” Leia broke through the madness of noises.
“Of course, shoot.” Anakin was amazed at your ability to smile like nothing was happening underneath the table, like you weren’t trying to touch his thigh underneath the table cloth with the hand that wasn’t supporting your chin.
“What’s your major? I think I haven’t asked you that yet.” Leia swallowed a spoonful of sweet potato casserole.
“I’m a psych major.” You drank a bit of your wine.
“Oh, that solves the mystery. You’re dating Luke as an experiment, aren’t you?” Leia mocked, earning a kick from her brother. “Auch, laser brain!”
“Leia!” Padmé scolded her.
“My God, have you been psychoanalyzing us this whole time?” Han stopped chewing his biscuit as he stared deep into your soul. “How bad is it?” He was dead serious.
“Oh my- No! No! I haven’t, I promise.” You totally had.
“Could you please prescribe something to mom so she relaxes once in a while?” Leia begged. “Or give her a session, whatever works.”
“Bet you are thrilled to hear Y/n is a psychologist, huh, sir? Know how much you love shrinks, Mr. Skywalker.” Han’s sarcasm revealed -in a very obvious way- how much Anakin did not like your profession.
“Still better than being a smuggler.” Anakin bit down on a piece of meat with venom directly right at Han.
“Oh, dad!” Luke exclaimed. “You should do dad!”
You grinned at the way Anakin almost spit his drink.
“I’m so open to that, sir.” You turned to meet the former Jedi’s face and smirked with mischief at Anakin’s knuckles turning white on his grip on the chair.
“Do you do the little shrink couch thing?” Han wondered with his mouth full.
“I mean, if the patient wants to lay down while I do all the work, that’s fine by me.” You laughed innocently, batting your eyelashes to Anakin the second everyone got distracted trying to guess what you would diagnosed Han with.
Sensing Anakin’s heavy breathing, you did the whole charade of dropping your fork onto the floor, obliged to pick it up. As much as Anakin tried to nervously hide the bulge in his pants, you confirmed that your little game was in fact working. You sat back on your chair with a victorious snicker.
“Oh, c’mon dad! Let Y/n work her magic on you! You bottle so much stuff, it’s good to let them out.” Leia reasoned, completely missing the panicked face of the woman that gave birth to her.
“Suddenly, I’m full.” Anakin announced, cleaning the sauce off the edges of his mouth and tossed the napkin to his plate, getting ready to leave.
“You can’t go, we haven’t had dessert yet.” Padmé frowned, signaling with a harsh glare to sit back down.
“Why don’t Luke and I take care of that?” You stood up, picking up the empty plates around.
“Oh, no, sweetie, you’re a guest-”
“No problem at all! Please let me take care of you.” The fact that you said that while collecting Anakin’s plate was a true coincidence.
“Only if you let Han and I wash the dishes!” Leia negotiated, following her mother’s welcoming values.
“Shut up, I bet they were going to do it anyway.” Han grunted with gritted teeth.
“We’ll be back with dessert.” You declared, dividing the tower of plates and walking to the kitchen with your boyfriend.
While Luke threw away the leftovers, you came back to scoop up the rest of the plates with the side dishes and so. You surveyed everyone about their dessert preferences, until you reached a spot next to Anakin.
“Padmé, back me up here! Wouldn’t it be cool if we save money on rent and live in the Falcon?” Han upped his voice to match Leia’s.
“I'm not living on a ship that’s falling apart, Han!”
“It would be an adventure every day!”
Sliding by Anakin’s side to hoist up the gravy bowl, you briefly grazed his shoulder with your chest, excusing the lame contact by your need to stretch for the dish. While you were leaned over him, the low-cut of your dress exposed to his delight, you turned your head and asked him:
“Would you like dessert, sir?” No one would figure that your question had any double meaning, but Anakin knew the filthy desires your eyes hid.
“Not for me, thanks.” He smiled curtly, doing a superhuman effort not to fall into the teasing of your playful peaks behind the tight fabric.
“Are you sure, Mr. Skywalker? The pie’s so soft and warm, very creamy. Baked it myself.” Anakin visibly shuddered, inhaling sharply as he closed his eyes while gripping the armrest.
You grinned, thanking your hair for covering your expressions to the rest of the family so you could bite your lip lecherously.
“On a diet.” He spat, playing with his fork to avoid the magnetic pull of your wanting eyes. And if you hadn’t taken the hint, he rubbed his eye with his left hand, showing off the gold band in his ring finger.
“Please, it’s cheat day.” You curved your lips into a smirk, feeling clever at the pun. “Just a taste? Bet you’ll love it.” That tortuous glint in your eyes. It had him, it had him good.
“He’s always playing hard to get, Y/n. Bring him a piece!” Padmé interrupted the moment, smiling at you and Anakin, unaware of the tension she had just cut off.
“I see that.” You finally left the table, not without grazing his back with your swaying hips.
“You know what? I’ll help you with these.” Anakin barked, standing up and picking the few dishes left.
“Oh-” You stiffened at his huge figure walking towards you. You were not prepared for him to bite into the trap. “Not necessary, sir. I’ll come back for the rest.”
“Let me. It’s the least I can do.” Standing in front of you, he raised his eyebrows to hurry you.
Nervously, you made your way to the small aisle before the kitchen, feeling the powerful pounding of your heart. His presence hung heavy behind you and suddenly the bravery you had flagged during supper had magically disappeared, the only trail it left were your jelly legs. Mere feet from the kitchen door, you felt a pull from your waist, your back stamping against the wall.
“Is this funny to you?” Anakin glared at you, pressing your torso enough to threaten your ability to breathe. “Trying to break up a marriage, being the homewrecker of your boyfriend’s family? While he’s at the table?”
You tried to escape, fighting against him for your release. But if the enlarging of his nostrils was any sign, you were not going anywhere anytime soon. It was time to summon that feistiness back.
“You can’t mess up something that’s already broken.” You snapped, squinting your eyes. “Why are you really here Anakin? To tell me off?” You cocked an eyebrow, glancing down at him. “You don’t seem rather convincing.”
Being between a rock and a hard place had a whole other meaning when you were sandwiched between the wall… and Anakin’s crotch.
“Stop it.” He demanded, seeing the way you put aside the dishes on a nearby table to play with the lapels of his suit.
“That’s not what you were saying last night.” You grazed your lips against his chin, enjoying the quivering that came from it. “Why do you fight it, Anakin? And don’t pull up your lame excuse of a marriage, when we both know that’s not the reason.”
Anakin pushed you by your throat, your head hardly banging against the wallpaper. He overlooked your whining, taking advantage of your dizziness to get his point through.
“Forget me, Y/n. All about me. All that happened.” He warned in a deeper voice. “For my sake. For yours.”
“Tell me you don’t want me, Anakin, and I’ll stop, hell, I’ll fucking leave.” You murmured with a fire in your eyes letting him know that you weren’t joking around. “Just say the words and I’ll be out of your face.”
Disappointment settled in Anakin’s chest at the prospect of not seeing you anymore.
So he stayed silent, waiting for the duel inside his head to end and speak the winner’s name: lust or reason. Luke’s voice calling for his girlfriend helped the struggle come to a conclusion.
“You haven’t answered the question.” You reminded him, to his disdain. “I want you, Anakin, you-”
“Forget me, Y/n. It may be too late for me, but there may be salvation for Luke and you.” He advised, pushing the plates back to you, stepping back.
“Y/n! I need help over here!” Luke again.
“Alright. Loud and clear, sir.” You spat, brushing past Anakin while he still stared at the floor.
Marching down to where the voice was calling you, you encountered Luke elbow deep into the water.
“Hey, you brought the rest of the-”
“Did you mean it? When you said you wanted to be more spontaneous?” Your breathing was irregular from the adrenaline rush.
“What?” Luke frowned, drying up his forearms with the hand towel.
“Kiss me, Luke. Kiss me now.” You demanded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing against him.
“It’s everything okay? Why-”
“Luke! Please.” You purred on his ear, peppering smooches along his cheek. “Kiss me, please.”
Once Luke caught up with your level of neediness, he delivered the antidote for your hornyness. Hands fixed on your hips, Luke’s lips found yours and played along at the dangerous pace you set. The makeout session quickly escalated: out of nowhere you were roughly jammed against the counter top, manly hands sliding to your back side to squeeze some of the fat. You reciprocated Luke’s attention by playing with his hair as you sucked his bottom lip. It wasn’t nearly as exciting as kissing Anakin; because even when you and Luke were almost sucking each other’s face off, he was still too gentle for you.
But thrill didn’t take long to appear through the door.
Anakin’s stroll to the kitchen ceased at the door frame, when he spotted the heated embrace you two were entangled in. Thankfully, the only person he could see was you and barely because of Luke’s back. So your visual connection was only possible because you managed to angle your boyfriend so you could see Anakin above his shoulder.
Luke moaned when you hugged him tighter, kissed him harder.
“Y/n.” He moaned, unaware that your sudden passion was boosted at the sight of his dad’s heaving chest.”You’re so hot, sugar.”
“I want you.” You whimpered, staring dead into Anakin’s eyes. “I need you.” Your naked leg escaped the slit from your dress, surrounding Luke’s hip. “Just do it. Give it to me.”
Whatever sweet nothing Luke murmured into your ear flew right under your radar as you delighted yourself with the view of Anakin’s hurting frown. The image was ripped away from you when Luke physically circled your attention back to you.
“You’re so beautiful, Y/n. You’re too much for me.” Thanking him, you came back to kissing, the only escape route you had at hand to evade his love bombarding.
However, Luke’s cringy dirty talk was the second most disappointing thing to happen in that kitchen, just after Anakin leaving.
imagine getting into some trouble with Leia when you both went out into town. It just landed with both of you getting picked up by her dad, Anakin Skywalker. He’d give you both disapproving looks, motioning for both of you to follow him and to get in his car. You weren’t even his daughter but you still looked down at your hands as you sat in the backseat. He’d be disappointed, sending Leia up to her room while you called someone to come pick you up downstairs. Dilf!Anakin would look over you. “You gettin’ my daughter in trouble?” He touched a strand of your hair. “I-No, sir. I didn’t mean to..” Would be an answer that he’d laugh a little at. “Silly girl, aren’t you?” He’d bend you over the kitchen counter, sliding his hands over your ass. You knew the skirt you were wearing was a little risky. “Short skirts are for bad girls, you know? I don’t want my daughter to start dressin’ like this.” Dilf!Anakin whispered to you, sliding his fingers under your lacy panties. He slid them down before pocketing them. You looked back at him and went to speak but the door bell rang indicating whoever you called was here. Dilf!Anakin would smirk at you then motion for you to go ahead and leave.
