Obi-Wan chose a speeder from the Temple hanger and accelerated out into the golden haze of evening on Coruscant. He looked at the time and cursed, speeding up and joining the stream of traffic. He was piloting recklessly, and was grateful that Anakin was not there to see and make commentary.
He was running late—an almost contentious debate among the Council about allocation of the G.A.R. resources around the galaxy had taken much longer to resolve than Obi-Wan had hoped. He had plans.
His vestigial sense of duty and propriety brought a flush to his cheeks, but he merely accelerated the speeder faster, dipping and swerving around traffic. He had gotten used to the sense of irresponsibility that came from his choices, and wasn’t willing to stop. The war and Anakin’s Knighthood had changed everything.
No… it was Padmé who changed everything.
Obi-Wan took a series of turns quickly, following a shortcut that Anakin had shown him to Padmé’s spacious apartment on the other side of the Federal District.
It had been more than a year since Padmé had messaged him. He’d originally been wary of accepting her invitation for a meeting, remembering how poorly his last meeting with her had gone shortly after Geonosis—Master Yoda had sent him to emphatically discourage the attachment between Padmé and Anakin, and Padmé had not appreciated the interference whatsoever.
His curiosity ultimately overruled his caution, and he’d arrived at 500 Republica determined to understand the reason for Padmé’s invitation after months of silence. The topic was the one he’d expected—Anakin—and his fears about their ongoing relationship had been confirmed. At first he'd been angry, but what she said next had taken him completely off guard.
“He desperately wants you to fuck him, Obi-Wan.”
Obi-Wan remembered how he had blinked, his weight shifting back on his heels. “What?”
She just sighed, running a hand through her long, loose hair. “Can’t you tell how needy he is, how much he craves attention and… instruction?”
Obi-Wan shook his head, trying to prevent himself from learning things about Anakin and Padmé’s relationship that he didn’t want to know. “He rejects it. My… instruction.”
Anakin didn’t want Obi-Wan to… that was absurd. There was no way.
She laughed, her eyes too knowing. “He’s a brat, Obi-Wan. He’s trying to get you to snap, even if he doesn’t know that’s what he’s doing. It is. He did it to me on Naboo, and eventually it worked. I’ve seen how he is with you. It’s the same.”
Obi-Wan sat down heavily on her sofa, unable to keep the frown of confusion from his face. “You think he’s actually… testing me? He cannot be.”
She sat next to him, her expression immeasurably fond. “Next time Ani starts behaving like a brat, treat him like a brat, and you’ll see. He glows, Obi-Wan. He wants to submit so badly, it’s such a relief to him. You’d be doing him a favor.”
“What?” Obi-Wan stared at her. She wasn’t… warning him off? “You mean…”
She nodded, answering his choked off question. “I want to share him, Obi-Wan. I need him to be happy, and there’s a war going on; we’re so rarely in the same place. He needs more attention than I can possibly give him. He needs you, but will never ask. He’s too afraid to lose you.”
Obi-Wan hadn’t known what to say to that, and had been more of a coward than usual, almost fleeing the room with his haste to get away from what the conversation had offered him. She’d nodded politely as he’d left, but Obi-Wan could see the smile in her eyes. She knew what she’d done, how she’d made him feel—what she’d given him permission to do.
The next few weeks had been strange, sent out on an assignment to track Dooku with Anakin. He certainly hadn’t known how to handle the memory of his conversation with Padmé. It wasn’t appropriate to have feelings for one's former Padawan. It certainly wasn’t the Jedi way to fuck them. He tried to brush it off, forget what she had said.
The problem was that it explained everything.
He couldn’t stop seeing the pattern: how much calmer and happier Anakin had been on Coruscant, how tense and fussy he was everywhere else. How much more tense and fussy he was becoming, as the mission had extended from weeks into months. He kept begging without actually begging, continually needling Obi-Wan and pushing his buttons.
Eventually, Obi-Wan snapped.
He was sure he’d never forget Anakin’s shocked expression when he’d grabbed him by the nape of the neck and walked him the length of the hallway back to his cabin. He moaned so prettily when Obi-Wan had bent him over the bed and stripped his pants, spanking him hard. His mouth fell open as Obi-Wan’s hastily bacta-slicked fingers had opened him up, fast and rough.
He'd begged Obi-Wan then to "Please, please just fuck me, please, Master," and Obi-Wan had given in. He slicked up his cock and pushed the tip inside, listening with satisfaction to Anakin’s whimper. He easily fucked in deeper and deeper, opening him up, and Anakin took his thick cock so well.
Obi-Wan remembered being both pleased and furious at how well Anakin took him—at how he knew exactly what to do.
“You’re very good at getting fucked, Anakin,” Obi-Wan had said, voice low and intent. Anakin whimpered at the praise, before Obi-Wan grabbed his hair and tugged his head back to look in his eyes. “Too good. Did Padmé teach you this, or have you been letting other men fuck you?”
“Padmé,” Anakin whined, rocking his hips back. “Only Padmé, ever. You now.”
Obi-Wan’s hips sped up, the room filling with the sound of their hips slapping together. “She fucks you? Fucks you with toys?”
“Yes, Master.” Anakin’s cheeks flushed so pink, his skin sheened with sweat. “Yes.”
“I’m the first man?” Obi-Wan felt a swell of possessiveness, the idea pleasing him far more than it should.
“Yes, Master,” Anakin said, panting.
Obi-Wan let his grip on Anakin’s hair slacken, sliding his hand down his neck, stroking down his spine and appreciating the long line of his back. “Very good, Anakin.”
Anakin’s moan had been blissful. “Thank you, Master.”
Obi-Wan had never seen Anakin as happy as after he’d been thoroughly fucked—as he lay gasping, flushed, and sweaty, twisted in the sheets. His eyes had been so bright, his smile blinding, his presence in the Force bubbling like champagne in sunlight. And that, was that.
After then, they’d shared him. On Coruscant or Naboo, Padmé would take Anakin in hand, and then Obi-Wan would take him back when they were sent out on missions. Under their almost continual attention, Anakin had bloomed like a flower, his presence in the Force suffused with so much peace that Master Yoda had even commented with favor.
If only they knew how Obi-Wan had finally managed to soothe that lonely, needy place inside Anakin, the one that had always been a roiling, festering mess of dangerous emotions. Padmé and him, together, had done what more than a decade of Jedi training had apparently failed to do—all by trading him back and forth to fuck.
And Force damn him if it wasn’t good.
Obi-Wan’s favorite times, he’d soon discovered, were the handoffs: the times when they shared. The first time he watched Padmé wear a thick dildo to fuck Anakin until he came, cock untouched, had been something of a revelation. When she then bent over the bed and spread her legs for Obi-Wan and took his cock too—so tight, soft, hot, wet, perfect—it had felt like coming home.
Anakin watched, fascinated, his eyes so wide, his jaw dropped so that his plush, pink mouth was gaping open. His desire filled the Force, his incredulity at watching his Master fuck his wife—how perfect they looked together, how perfect they were, perfect and his.
Obi-Wan began to stroke Padmé's clit, his eyes moving from her pleasure-soaked face to fix on Anakin’s wet, open mouth. He felt Padmé tighten around him and deliberately fucked her through her building and cresting orgasm, letting her clench down around his cock with a long, low moan.
Anakin whimpered in response to her pleasure, and then Obi-Wan grabbed his hair, pulling his face closer until it hung off the side of the bed. His neck was so beautiful, so long. He would look so good with a cock in his mouth. Obi-Wan pulled out of Padmé after she’d ridden out her orgasm, and immediately shoved his wet cock deep into Anakin’s mouth.
It had only taken a few more thrusts—seeing the head of his cock move in Anakin’s long, extended throat—for Obi-Wan to come too. He pulled out as he did, letting the last of it spill directly onto Anakin’s messy lips.
“Thank you, Master.” Anakin’s eyes were glassy and his smile wide with incredulous awe.
Obi-Wan stroked his cheekbone, appreciating as Anakin had eagerly licked the come from his lips. “You liked me fucking your face, Anakin?”
“Yes,” Anakin’s eyes fluttered closed and he swallowed thickly. “Very much, Master.”
Beep! Beep!
Obi-Wan’s hands twitched on his controls and narrowly avoided flying directly into the side of a large hoverbus. He exhaled shakily, guiltily, and refocused on piloting the rest of the trip to 500 Republica. The light of day was beginning to fade entirely, the infinite city illuminating with neon.
He was almost there. He and Anakin were being deployed, so it was time for a handoff, a very special handoff…
Obi-Wan parked his speeder adjacent to Padmé’s floor and strode quickly inside, pushing back his hood. He was not overly surprised to find the common areas and the bedroom empty. He paused and listened, hearing a splash of water that led him towards Padmé’s large, luxurious bathroom.
He paused in the doorway and smiled, leaning against the doorframe for a long moment, appreciating the sight before him. The bath had made the air in the room muggy and hot, steam clouding up the large mirrors. The room was illuminated only by a frankly dangerous number of candles, and it smelled as sweet as a hothouse garden on Naboo from the combination of all of Padmé’s fragrant oils.
There was a large, sunken bath almost the size of a small pool in the middle of the room, the pale marble gleaming in the low light. The water inside was steaming and roiling from the jets that kept it warm and fresh. It was sloped, with the water reaching up to the top of Obi-Wan thighs on the deeper end, he knew from experience.
It was the perfect height for fucking someone bent over the edge. Case in point…
Padmé was currently bent over, her flushed, naked chest pushed against the stone of the floor. She was panting and moaning, her legs spread and her back stretched out long while Anakin’s metal hand held her firmly in place.
Obi-Wan could only see the top of Anakin’s head as he knelt behind her, his face pressed between her legs, intently licking and fingering her ass. Sensing Obi-Wan’s presence, he jerked up, making happy eye contact. Padmé grumbled at the loss of contact, and Obi-Wan smirked.
“Back on task, Anakin.”
Anakin nodded obediently and returned his focus to her ass again, burying his face between her legs and using his fingers and tongue to eagerly rim her. Padmé moaned with satisfaction, and then smiled up lazily at Obi-Wan. “You’re late.”
“Unavoidable, unfortunately,” Obi-Wan said with a sigh. He entered the room and sat on a low bench, kicking off his boots with relief. “We’re being deployed, but there was a great deal of debate as to where.”
“Mmm,” Padmé said thoughtfully. “Together?”
“Yes,” Obi-Wan smiled, shrugging off his cloak. “The Chancellor wanted us split up, but the Council denied his request. Master Yoda was positively smug about it.”
Padmé laughed, breathless. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“All well here?” Obi-Wan asked curiously, sensing Anakin’s slightly elevated levels of desperation in the Force.
“This one…” She gestured loosely behind her. “Was very naughty earlier. He’s been doing his best to make it up to me, such a clever boy.”
“What did he do?” Obi-Wan asked, pulling off his belt and setting it aside. He shrugged off his tabards and began to untie his tunics. “This clever boy of ours.”
“Ani, show him, darling. You can stop and show him.”
Anakin pulled his face back, his pupils blown and his pink lips swollen and wet. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and stood up. “Yes, alright.”
Obi-Wan’s hands moved to unfasten and drop his trousers, his eyes sliding from Anakin’s broad shoulders down his dripping chest to his bare, hard cock, and back up, meeting Anakin’s dark eyes. “Show me what?”
Anakin swallowed and stepped back, turning to bend over the far side of the bath. He took a deep breath and spread his legs wide, hands coming back to grip the curves of his ass to display the jeweled end of a plug. Obi-Wan felt his cock throb painfully, feeling almost lightheaded. Sith hells.
“He was very naughty while I was putting in our new toy,” Padmé said, rolling over and sitting up on the edge of the bath. She let her legs fall open, hand rubbing her clit absently as she spoke. “He came without asking permission first.”
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, his voice full of mock disappointment as he approached the bath. “We’ve been working on that.”
Anakin whimpered, turning his face back towards them both. “I’m sorry, Master. I’m sorry, Padmé, angel. It just felt so good.”
Padmé hummed negatively, her fingers still circling her clit, her words increasingly breathless, “You have to use your words with me, Ani. I’m not Obi-Wan, I can’t tell in the Force if things are too intense for you. Remember?”
“Yes,” Anakin said, very apologetic. “I know. Obi-Wan makes me say it all too for practice. I’ll try harder, I promise.”
Obi-Wan stepped cautiously down the stairs into the hot water, groaning quietly as more of his stress melted away. He moved forward and examined the absurdly fancy, jeweled end of the plug in Anakin’s ass, tugging on it gently and giving Padmé a raised eyebrow.
Anakin whined and shifted, and Obi-Wan slapped a hand on his back and pressed him down, hard. “I think you look rather nice where you are, Anakin.”
“I agree,” Padme said, her eyes turning heavy-lidded as she studied Obi-Wan’s naked body, focusing on his twitching cock. “Would you like to fuck me?”
“Very much,” Obi-Wan murmured, giving Anakin’s plug one last little tug before stepping away.
“Then fuck me,” Padme commanded, opening her legs wider in invitation. Obi-Wan smiled warmly at her. Once a queen, always as queen. Her busy fingers moved from rubbing her clit down to spread herself open, showing Obi-Wan how slick and ready she was.
Anakin whined loudly at the sight of her, his desperation to touch himself and touch them was clear both in his tensed muscles and in the Force. Obi-Wan and Padmé traded fond looks. She spoke, her tone repressive. “Patience, Ani.”
“Yes, of course,” Anakin replied instantly, chastened. “Patient. I am patient.”
Obi-Wan shook his head and stepped between Padmé’s legs. He slid his hands up her soft thighs, spreading them wide and holding her still. She pressed a soft kiss to his lips and gently grasped and lined up his cock.
She gasped as he pressed the tip inside, and then moaned loudly in appreciation. Her eyes fluttered closed and her head tipped back, as he began to pull her steadily onto his cock, thrusting his hips forward, sinking in deep. “Your cock is so kriffing big. I always forget, Obi-Wan.”
“You’re so tight,” Obi-Wan replied, his voice a low rumble. He shifted his grip on Padmé’s thighs and then began to fuck her, harder and harder, until he was making her whole body jerk, her breasts bouncing wildly. He could feel Anakin’s rapt attention on his back like a physical itch.
Padmé’s eyes twinkled mischievously, and then she squeezed them shut, imagining what she wanted so vividly that it pushed the image of her desire out in a wave into the Force, flooding Obi-Wan’s mind. He heard Anakin moan behind him at the same time, doubtlessly having seen the same image.
Obi-Wan’s hips stuttered to a stop, and he studied her face intently. “You want both of us?”
“I’d like to try,” Padmé said, tone breathless and coy. ”He was such a good boy earlier today, and he did such a good job stretching me. I’m sure I could take you both. I’ve been practicing.”
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan instructed immediately, wrapping Padmé’s arms around his neck and pulling her up, his cock still buried deep inside her. “Come here, Padawan.”
Padmé wrapped her legs around Obi-Wan tightly and rocked her hips, getting comfortable on his cock and kissing him deeply in thanks.
Anakin whined and Obi-Wan broke the kiss, turning them both around and shifting his hands to offer him easy access to Padmé’s ass. Anakin exhaled hard and stepped forward, kissing the side of Padmé’s neck and rubbing oil on his cock.
Obi-Wan held Padmé still and at the right angle, holding her legs open, spreading her wide. Anakin pressed the head of his cock against her hole and asked, “Are you sure, Padmé?”
“Yes, Ani,” Padmé said, nodding. “Thank you for asking, darling.” One of her arms left Obi-Wan's neck and wrapped back to grab Anakin’s hair. Anakin whimpered and then gently but firmly thrust the tip of his cock into her ass. He froze, sensing her discomfort and she almost growled at him. “Don’t stop!”
Anakin exhaled shakily and began to fuck her, his cock sliding in and out gently, deeper and deeper. She moaned in appreciation, adjusting to the feeling quickly. Obi-Wan stood frozen, his eyes closed as he felt Anakin’s cock fill Padmé’s ass, his hard length sliding against his own cock.
Holding her up between them, they slowly found a rhythm, both of their cocks sliding in and out more and more easily. Padmé moaned incoherently, her overwhelming pleasure radiating out in the Force at being fucked by two thick cocks, her two holes being filled so perfectly.
Anakin was so eager to please, and he was feeling increasingly desperate for praise. Obi-Wan could feel it in the Force, but somehow Padmé could sense it too. She turned her head and caught him in a sloppy kiss.
He began fucking her faster, and Obi-Wan let him, going still again and holding Padmé in place. His cock was still buried so deep inside Padme’s cunt, and he let the feeling of Anakin’s hard cock sliding in and out of her ass pleasure him too.
“Yes, good boy,” Padmé gasped, breaking the kiss. “Very good.”
She looked back toward Obi-Wan and caught his eye. He raised an eyebrow in question and she just nodded and said breathily, ”He deserves a treat.”
“What should we give him?”
Padmé moaned as Anakin bit her neck, and then she smirked at Obi-Wan. “You should fuck him, he needs it. It’s been too long.”
Obi-Wan nodded and focused, using the Force to hold her still as he pulled out, letting Anakin's hands to slide under her thighs and pull her back against his chest, taking over holding her up. “Bend her over the side, Anakin, like before.”
“Yes, Master,” Anakin said, carefully stepping forward and letting Padmé lean forward. Obi-Wan smiled to see her back in the position he’d first found her in, her curves pressed against the cold tile of the floor, this time Anakin’s cock buried in her ass instead of his face.
Obi-Wan stepped around behind Anakin, leaning close and whispering in his ear, instructing him, “Spread your legs, Anakin, let me see the nice new toy Padmé got for you.”
Anakin whimpered and obeyed as best as he could without stopping fucking Padmé, widening his stance and rocking his hips back, presenting his ass.
Obi-Wan stroked his back in appreciation, his fingers sliding down and gently pulling out the plug. He set it aside and slicked his fingers with oil, quickly replacing the plug. He smiled at how easily Anakin’s soft, pink hole took two fingers, and then three. “What do you want, Anakin?”
“F-fuck me,” Anakin said, twisting his head, eyes wide. “Please, Master. I need it.”
Obi-Wan rubbed oil on his cock with his other hand, still fingering him slowly. “What do you need?”
“Your cock,” Anakin whined, “Fuck me with your cock, Master, Obi-Wan, please.”
Obi-Wan pulled out his fingers, making Anakin moan with both disappointment and anticipation. Obi-Wan grasped his hips, holding him still, and touched the head of his cock to Anakin’s slick ass. Anakin was almost trembling, his eagerness radiating out into the Force in a heady wave.
“Oh, just fuck him, Obi-Wan,” Padmé said, her cheek pressed to the stone of the floor. She was rolling her hips back, fucking herself on Anakin’s cock as Obi-Wan held him still. Her voice was so sweet and almost raspy. “I’m getting close.”
Obi-Wan pushed his hips forward, groaning as Anakin’s tight, hot body accepted his cock easily, so easily. He fucked into him harder, sinking in all the way, his hips slapping into Anakin’s and making Anakin fuck into Padmé. They all moaned in appreciation, and Obi-Wan did it again, his cock sliding in and out of Anakin several times with force before stopping.
Anakin whined, “No, more!”
“Patience,” Obi-Wan rumbled into his ear, holding still. “I want you to fuck yourself on my cock, Anakin, but remember, your first job is to fuck her. Make Padmé come, and then I will fuck you just how you like.”
“Yes, Master.” Anakin rocked his hips back, taking Obi-Wan as deeply as he could, and then thrust forward, sinking his cock as deep into Padmé’s ass as he could. She moaned in appreciation, and he did it again, faster and faster.
Obi-Wan bit his ear, and then moved his mouth down, sucking on his neck. “Are you pleasing her?”
“Angel?” Anakin asked, breathless, fucking her smoothly and quickly. “Do you like it?”
“Y-ess,” Padmé said, and she stretched the word out to several syllables. “Rub my clit, Ani, and I’ll come again, one more time, darling.”
Anakin nodded, still busy rocking his hips, and his left hand slid around and fingers began stroking fast, light circles on her clit. They both felt her pleasure in the Force boil and then overflow, her body convulsing with her orgasm, her long moan beautiful to hear.
She put a hand back on Anakin’s thigh, pushing him back and he slid out, leaning back into Obi-Wan, who wrapped an arm around his chest, pulling him close and burying his cock all the way in his ass. Anakin whimpered and nuzzled again Obi-Wan, and Padmé slid down into the water, her face satisfied. “Fuck him hard, Obi-Wan.”
“My lady,” Obi-Wan dipped his head ironically, pulling out and pushing Anakin forward, bending him down over the edge of the bath in her place. He smacked Anakin’s ass, making him jerk and moan, as he put more lube on his cock before pushing it back in, and then began to fuck Anakin mercilessly, their hips slapping together, his cock sinking in deep over and over.
Anakin whined and whimpered, his back arching, his hand instinctively reaching for his own cock, desperate for friction. Obi-Wan grabbed his wrist and then found the other, holding them both crossed together behind his back, shoving his chest and face into the floor, fucking him harder. He looked over at Padmé, who was very much appreciating the show. “Do you think he could come without a hand on his cock?”
Padme smiled fondly, “Yes, I know he can. I want to watch him come, our darling boy.”
“He is ours, isn’t he.” Obi-Wan smiled back, and then turned his attention back to Anakin, fucking him harder. “Ours to fuck. Ours to use. So perfect and precious isn’t he.” Anakin whimpered, his joy rippling in the Force, his sense of security, sense of meaning in being useful.
Padmé’s voice was encouraging and low, “He’s so good for you, looks so perfect getting fucked. Don’t you, love?”
“Yes,” Anakin immediately agreed, tacking on a desperate, adoring, "My lady."
Obi-Wan could tell that he would have agreed to anything she said, and Padmé smiled, as if she knew. “Do you want to come, my love?”
“Yes, my lady.”
Padmé met Obi-Wan's eyes and smirked. Obi-Wan pulled Anakin’s hips back and tilted them down, adjusted the angle of his cock and began to fuck him again. Anakin whined as he began to unerringly stroke against the perfect place, exactly where he wanted him, where he needed him. Obi-Wan squeezed his hips, enjoying the sight of his cock disappearing into Anakin's tight body. “Take it, Anakin, take my fucking cock.”
“Master, yes, Master,” Anakin was almost drooling against the floor, his cheeks so pink, his eyes hazy with pleasure. "Can I come, please? I need to come, I'm going to—"
"Yes," Obi-Wan cut him off. "Come on my cock. Come now."
"Thank you!" Anakin gasped. It only took a few more deep hard thrusts and he broke, groaning loudly, his cock twitching as his come spilled down the wall of the bath and began to drip down.
“Good boy, Anakin,” Padmé murmured. She moved closer, and whispered, “Our very good boy,” against Obi-Wan’s lips, kissing him deeply.
Obi-Wan licked into her mouth, kissing her back, his thrusts becoming slow and gentle as he fucked Anakin through his orgasm—letting Anakin jerk and tighten down around him.
Anakin moaned, "I love you, I love you both so much," and Obi-Wan broke the kiss and groaned, his head curling forward as he came too, one last thrust spilling his come deep inside.
Padmé gave Obi-Wan another kiss and handed him the soap when he pulled out. Her fingers pressed into Anakin’s ass to keep Obi-Wan’s come inside, reaching for the plug. Anakin sighed in satisfaction as she plugged him up, keeping him full of come. His feeling of wholeness and quiet completion filled Obi-Wan’s senses in the Force.
He stroked Anakin’s back, and murmured, “Happy birthday, my love.”
Padmé said it too, her gentle and sweet words accompanied by a kiss. “Happy birthday, darling.”
“Thank you both so much.” Anakin sighed loudly, blissful. “Best birthday ever.”
Padme finished braiding her own hair, and let her arms drop. She was exhausted, and her muscles had been shaking by the time that she’d arranged the final braid into a simple crown. Her long hair was heavier than she’d remembered, or she was simply weaker.
It was a rare privilege to do her own hair, at least it had become so after she had been elected as queen and gained her loyal cohort of handmaidens. Privacy in general had become precious, and she’d reveled in the silence as she brushed her hair out. She enjoyed the simple, meditative pleasure of it, the quiet peace of attending to it alone, but it had certainly been tiring.
She let her hands rest heavily on the counter as she looked at her reflection in the large, round mirror of the vanity in her bathroom at Varykino, studying her gray cheeks, the dark circles under her eyes. She was grateful to be healing quickly from the virus that had almost destroyed all life on her planet, but still felt far too weak. Her recovery could not happen soon enough, if only because it would stop Anakin’s fussing.
The 501st and the 212th had both been conveniently scheduled for a brief period of leave on the planet by Obi-Wan, who had been spending his time in Theed planning the attack on the next Separatist stronghold. It had been generous of him to massage the timeline and obscure Anakin’s absence, giving them all the space of a few days to linger on Naboo.
She’d been able to hide away with her husband to the place where they’d first fallen in love and married, a brief retreat so that she could heal and he could rest—but he had been a hovering, anxious mess instead, following her around, muttering occasionally about how she had almost died, how much danger she’d allowed herself to be in, how close she’d come to disaster.
She hadn’t been able to take him in hand, being much too tired to muster the energy, so his stress had bubbled along unchecked, and nothing she said seemed to get through to him when he was in this state. Ultimately, she had been forced to request Obi-Wan come to collect him a day early, and he’d agreed, understanding that she needed help.
She’d allowed Anakin to help her bathe, just to satisfy him that she wouldn’t slip and give herself blunt force trauma, but after that she’d sent him away while she brushed her hair for a moment of privacy and calm before Obi-Wan arrived. She wasn’t Force sensitive, but she was highly attuned to body language and Anakin had mastered the art of shouting while sitting still.
Such a brat, so much attitude.
Her lips twisted in a sad smile. She would miss him when he went away with Obi-Wan on their next deployment, and she returned to Coruscant for the Senate. It was a pity it would be happening so soon, but that was the reality of war. She needed to be back at work—needed to have the energy to resist the creeping victory of the militarists in the Senate.
With a deep sigh, she pushed herself to her feet, slipping a deep green silk robe over her bare shoulders and belting it with a loose knot. She felt slightly lightheaded and needed to lay down, all of the standing and sitting up had been necessary to get clean, and she felt better for it, but her bed was calling to her. She left the bathroom, her bare feet padding on the cool tiles before sinking into the warm, plush carpet of her room.
The large windows of her bedroom overlooked the lake, and admitted the soft light of late afternoon. It was summer, so they were open wide, the fresh scent of the air filling her with nostalgia. Her bed was absurdly large, the soft pale blue sheets changed daily for freshly clean and perfumed ones by housekeeping droids. Her room painted a pretty picture, made even prettier for the man sitting obediently on the floor.
She smiled softly—Anakin was exactly where he was supposed to be, and she was pleased with him for following her instructions. Obi-Wan had asked her to make him practice his sitting meditation, and she immediately agreed, knowing it would doubtless be good for him. The fact that he hated so much it only made her more sure that he needed it.
His eyes were closed, and he was sitting with perfect posture, but even she knew that he looked too tense to be meditating properly. He was almost vibrating with energy. She petted his hair as she walked by to the bed, and he immediately pushed his head into her hand, making a quiet noise of protest and discontent when she walked on without comment.
She let herself collapse down on the pillows, staring up at the ornate ceiling and catching her breath, blinking away memories of the bunker. She was still on some level processing how close she’d come to dying—locked in the quarantine zone, she’d been in a state beyond fear, a place where fear no longer operated because there was no hope, only resignation to the inevitable, and conviction that her choice to die was worth it. But she had survived, thanks to the astonishing efforts of her husband and their lover, both of whom had saved the day and the galaxy as usual. She loved them both so much, they astonished her.
Anakin breathed loudly, his chest rising and falling in dramatic fashion, pushing the line of what would normally be considered a sigh, and she rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, Ani.”
He immediately spoke, taking her breaking the silence as an invitation. “Please, can I…” She turned her head to the side to look at him, and he met her eyes, his voice adopting a pathetic, pleading edge. “Angel, please…”
She smiled at his earnest desperation. “Be specific, my love.”
“Can I come up there with you?”
She studied his face for a moment, the surreality of how handsome he in the gentle sunlight was washing over her again. His strong jaw and sharp cheekbones, pouting lips and wide blue eyes, filled with concern. It was an immensely consuming and overwhelming thing, Anakin’s love, immensely flattering.
“Yes, you may.”
He was on his feet in an instant, relief obvious on his face. “Thank you.”
“Slowly,” she warned him with a hint of sharpness, making him pause, and she raised her eyebrows. “Don’t rush. Clothes off first.”
Anakin flushed at the instruction, and he stripped as quickly as he could without being accused of rushing, rapidly baring his golden skin. She admired the show he thoughtlessly put on—he was so tall and lean, his legs were long, his chest broad and strong. So powerful, and so devoted.
She slowly untied and parted her robe, pushing the green silk to the side, aware of the heat of Anakin’s gaze as she exposed her bare breasts and stomach, spreading her legs to tease him with a glimpse between, making room for him to lay cradled between her thighs.
Anakin eagerly crawled up the bed, hovering over her before she opened her arms and he dropped and settled on her chest. The weight of him crushed her breasts against the warm, soft skin of his bare chest, and his strong body covered hers completely, his head pressed needily into the crook of her neck. He hummed happily, nuzzling against her skin.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and twisted their legs together, holding him close, and inhaled the scent of his hair, pressing a kiss to his temple and letting the moment of peace extend. Anakin was just so large in comparison to her that he completely covered her body, hiding her from the outside world, his broad shoulders making her feel so safe.
He remained slightly tense in her arms, and she stroked her hands up and down his back, massaging him and encouraging him to release his stubbornly tight muscles. “You need to relax.”
“I almost lost you.”
She sighed and hugged him tighter. “You didn’t.”
He dismissed that fact immediately, snapping back. “I could’ve.”
“Ani,” she sighed, a prickle of annoyance becoming evidence in her voice. “Stop it.”
“I can’t.”
She tugged his head up by the hair, bringing their lips together into a slow, reassuring kiss. He whimpered against her mouth, and she focused on her sincerity, pushing it out, knowing he could feel it in a way she couldn’t. He gasped, breaking off the kiss, and she pressed their foreheads together, trying to force him to actually listen. “You must let this go, Ani. You must.”
He shook his head slightly, pulling back and studying her intently as if to memorize her face, so she smiled at him to make sure the memory was a good one. She needed him to remember her alive and happy, no matter the shadows beneath her eyes. He mirrored her smile instinctively, his gaze still as possessive and intense. He was so lovely, so sincere.
She felt a twinge of arousal and instinctively spread her legs further, pulling his face close and kissing him again, even slower this time. He kissed her back, and it quickly became something filthy, her tongue demanding his attention, inviting him inside. He groaned and kissed back as if he could own and consume her, sucking hard on her bottom lip.
She moaned at a hot pulse of arousal and broke the kiss, gasping for air, desperate to breathe, and she smiled widely up at Anakin’s intoxicated expression. He was getting closer to relaxing, but she could tell with a discerning eye that there was still far too much noise in his head. She needed him to be completely fucked out and stupid with pleasure, it was the only way to really calm him down.
She pushed gently on his shoulder, and he recognized the instruction, his breath catching with excitement and relief as his eyes dropped to fix on her chest. She felt a low thrum of arousal as he licked his lips and she pushed on his shoulder again, harder.
He obeyed immediately, dropping his head to kiss the sensitive skin beneath her ear, and she relaxed back against the pillows as he began working his way down, kissing gently down her neck and between her collarbones, then sucking line of marks further down where nobody would see. She arched her back into his mouth and moaned at the sharp, bruising feeling, and encouraged him to touch her chest.
He cupped her breasts squeezed, playing with her nipples, licking and sucking, making her shiver at the feel of the cool metal of his exposed prosthetic hand. “Yes, Ani,” she whined, and he pinched her again harder. It felt so good—when they’d first married, the touch of his metal hand unnerved her slightly, though she would never admit it, but now, it was one of her favorite sensations.
He was so dexterous and clever with his fingers, the unyielding strength of them had gotten her off many times. The memory of how it felt to come on his fingers, how it felt for him to fuck her with them, sliding the metal relentlessly in and out of all her holes, made her feel so wet, she needed more. She touched his shoulder again, and he groaned with anticipation, immediately moving lower.
Her stomach contracted involuntarily as she felt his hot breath, and she gasped as he quickly kissed his way down her stomach, licking her navel and dragging his tongue down to the top of her neatly trimmed hair. She instructed, voice breathless and eager, “Slowly, like I taught you.”
“I remember,” Anakin said, and his normally melodic voice was raspy and low, making her toes curl. “I remember what you taught me.”
“Good,” she smiled at him, spreading her legs again in invitation. “Prove it.”
Anakin nodded quickly and then focused his attention entirely on her pleasure. It always gave her a flip of adrenaline when he looked at her body like that, and she wondered if that was the face he made while piloting a starship into battle.
He began to slowly and softly kiss her inner thighs, licking and sucking on the sensitive skin, his hands grabbing and spreading her legs wider in order to bury his face between them. She moaned as he pressed a gentle kiss to her clit before carefully circling it with his tongue, his eyes flicking up, wide and seeking approval.
She rubbed her hand through his hair fondly, and smiled, and he closed his eyes, bliss spreading on his features as his mouth caused pleasure to bubble and pop up her spine. She was getting so very wet, and he hummed with satisfaction when he licked and then pushed his tongue inside. Her hips rocked and she groaned. “Yes!”
He hummed happily and did it again, and it felt so good, the way his tongue felt returning to her clit to circle and press, over and over, it was all just right. She was already buzzing with pleasure, feeling the faintest hints of an orgasm, when he yanked his head back in surprise. She tugged hard on his hair, and he whimpered an apology, his eyes full of confusion and hope. “I feel Obi-Wan.”
She huffed with some annoyance, the edge of her orgasm fading away slightly. “Yes.”
“I thought he was coming tomorrow.”
She stroked his hair, her words coming out soft and sweet. “I called him here for you.”
He swallowed, eyes widening with concern. “For me?”
“Yes,” she confirmed, sliding a hand back into his curls before making a fist, gently tugging his mouth back to her clit. “You didn’t really think you could get away with being such an unbelievable brat the last few days, didn’t you?
He flashed her a guilty, apologetic look, licking her more fervently than before, his hands tightening on her thighs. He was becoming so skilled, knowing just how to make her come, and she moaned, her eyes rolling back as he sucked exactly where he should.
“Well, that is a sight,” Obi-Wan said from the doorway, resting casually against the doorframe, a tired smile on his face.
Padmé instinctively tightened her hand, keeping Anakin in place and he whined understanding, returning to fucking her with his tongue. She made eye contact with Obi-Wan, who raised his eyebrows.
“You mentioned he needed—”
“A spanking, yes, and I can’t fuck him as hard as he needs it.” She tugged sharply on Anakin’s hair when his tongue paused. “Don’t stop!”
Obi-Wan sighed with mock disappointment at Anakin’s misbehavior. “How many has he earned?”
“Until I say so, I think. Until I think he has learned his lesson.”
Obi-Wan laughed, sitting down and pulling off his boots. “We’ll be here until the heat death of the universe, in that case.”
Anakin whined, offended, and Obi-Wan just smirked, unbuckling his belt and setting it aside. Padmé just shook her head and petted Anakin’s hair, shushing him. “Make me come, darling.”
Anakin refocused, and Obi-Wan pulled off his shirt and went to the low dresser under the window, opening the top drawer to pull out lube. The easy familiarity with her space made Padmé feel warm, the memories of the last time they’d had the chance to spend a lazy afternoon fucking each other in every possible way making her even wetter. Obi-Wan’s perfect, thick cock pounding into her from behind, Anakin’s hands in her hair, his cock deep in her throat.
Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows, and then smirked, probably able to feel her pulse of arousal in the Force. He studied Anakin earnestly trying to make her come, how his hips kept flexing as though he was pressing his cock against the mattress, and then gave her a questioning look. “Are you close?”
She hummed and shifted her hips slightly, pushing her clit into Anakin’s mouth, and the flat, broad surface of his tongue stroked with perfect pressure, making her shiver and pant. “Yes.”
“Good,” Obi-Wan said, voice soft and warm, the approval making her stomach flip despite herself, and Anakin moaned loudly. “Do you want his fingers?”
She hummed with mock thoughtfulness, her breath coming fast and shallow. “Yes. The metal ones, please, Ani.”
“Gently,” Obi-Wan said in a low, demanding tone. “You have to—”
“I remember, Master,” Anakin said, and his voice was even raspier than before. “I remember what you told me.”
His eyes were so dark as he slid his metal hand up her inner thigh, and he bit his lip as he focused, carefully slipping two metal fingers through where she was soaking wet, gathering slickness, and then pushing them inside. The blunt, hard shape of them opened her up, deeper and wider than her own fingers ever could, making her moan and arch her back, and he carefully slid them in and out, fucking her with them in a slow, steady, perfect rhythm. His mouth returned to her clit, sucking hard, and she gasped, feeling the edge of orgasm creeping back closer and closer.
Obi-Wan joined them on the bed, stripped to his standard black underwear, his strong chest and thighs bare for her to see. He spread Anakin’s legs and knelt between them, pulling up on his hips until he brought his knees under him. She appreciated the sight of Anakin’s back stretched out, the muscles shifting under soft skin, holding his face against her, approaching the edge.
She watched as Obi-Wan took a moment to appreciate the shape of Anakin’s body, his hands cupping and squeezing the soft curves of his ass, his thumbs teasing between. Anakin’s tongue slowed against her clit, his whole body tense and trembling with anticipation of being spanked and fucked hard, and she tugged on his hair, returning him to his task.
Obi-Wan flashed her a smile and then pulled his hand back. Her breath caught with sympathy as his palm came down on Anakin’s bare ass with a sharp crack, making him jerk and whine, his metal fingers pushing in hard. Another crack, and Anakin looked up, eyes wide, sucking hard on her clit, curling his fingers inside her desperately, as if he thought that if he didn’t get her off soon, he wouldn’t be able to at all.
She smiled at him gently, and then made eye contact with Obi-Wan as he stroked the spot that he’d struck. His handsome face was starting to flush with arousal, his gaze dark and intense as he slid his eyes down her body to where Anakin’s head was buried between her legs. He struck him again hard, and she lifted a hand to pinch one of her nipples, squeezing tight, so close, she was so close.
Obi-Wan’s focus shifted back to disciplining Anakin, his eyes hooded and dark, and his cock an increasingly thick line in his underwear. Anakin jerked and whimpered with every methodical, relentless smack of Obi-Wan’s hand. Obi-Wan was alternating cheeks, spreading the pink, slapped color.
“Open him up,” Padmé encouraged, voice coming out so breathy and aroused, Anakin whined against her. “Get him ready.”
Obi-Wan nodded and reached down for the bottle of sweet smelling oil, letting some of the thick liquid coat the fingers of his left hand. He dropped the bottle and smacked Anakin with his right hand, making him jerk and whine, before he began to spread the oil between his legs with the lightest, most teasing touches. Anakin whined loudly as Obi-Wan struck his ass again, and Padmé smiled.
“A few more, Ani,” she whispered in consolation and without much sympathy. “Just a few more.”
She nodded at Obi-Wan, and he slapped Anakin’s ass hard and pressed a finger inside his tight hole at the same time, making his hips jerk. He moaned loudly, and Obi-Wan spanked him once for moving, and then again because he could. Padmé watched with satisfaction as he began to fuck him with one finger, and then added another, spanking him hard with his other hand at irregular intervals.
Anakin whined, and Padmé felt the edge coming, her hand tightening on Anakin’s hair and hips rolling to push against his mouth. His fingers were moving inside her so perfectly, rubbing up on just the right place. He was so beautiful spread out between them, his strong, lean body bowed and trembling, his cock leaking and heavy, looking almost painfully hard without any contact.
Obi-Wan’s voice was low and smooth, a caress she didn’t expect. “You’re beautiful.”
“What?” She looked up from where Obi-Wan’s fingers were moving in Anakin’s ass, meeting his eyes, which were so black with desire.
Obi-Wan smiled crookedly at her. “You look so good like this. It almost makes me want to just put Anakin in the corner and fuck you myself.”
Anakin made an offended noise and Obi-Wan brought his hand down on a pink cheek with a sharp crack. “Why hasn’t she come yet, Anakin? Are you not capable of pleasing her? I’m sure my cock would do a better job.”
Anakin whined in apology, and Obi-Wan shot her a look that shared their delight in making Anakin bend and twist like this for them, so submissive and apologetic. He looked so beautiful like this.
Obi-Wan’s voice became even deeper and more teasing, his fingers moving faster. “Do you want to stand in the corner and watch me fuck your wife, Anakin? You’re running out of time, and I’m running out of patience.”
Padmé panted as Anakin intensified his effort, his metal fingers fucking and curling inside just right, his tongue pressing so perfectly hard. She could see his flushed cheeks, his long, dark eyelashes increasingly damp with unshed tears.
“Fuck him,” she ordered, breathlessly. “He’s ready, Obi-Wan. Fuck him now.”
Obi-Wan hummed in acquiescence, and pulled his fingers out. Anakin moaned loudly in protest, and the vibration of it felt so good against her clit. She stroked his curls, pulling him close and watching as Obi-Wan pushed down his underwear and slicked up his thick cock. She couldn’t breathe as he lined it up, the head resting between Anakin’s spread legs but not sinking inside. It looked like it shouldn't fit, but she knew it did, knew it would.
Obi-Wan smirked at her, clearly enjoying the way Anakin was trembling beneath him. “Are you sure he’s learned his lesson?” Anakin looked up at her, his eyes wide and full of apology, a plea and a promise. She nodded and bit her lip, keeping her eyes fixed on Anakin’s face as Obi-Wan thrust his cock inside his ass.
Anakin's surprised, overwhelmed expression was so beautiful, and he whimpered so prettily at being stuffed full, but it was the rare sound of Obi-Wan’s low, pleased groan that unexpectedly pushed Padmé over the edge. She cried out loudly, her hips jerking and her hands tightening hard on Anakin’s hair, making him whine as Obi-Wan pulled his hips back and snapped them forward again, fucking his cock deeper inside Anakin’s tight body, both of them holding him in place and making him take it.
Padmé’s eyes squeezed closed despite herself as her orgasm rolled through her body, making her stomach contract and legs tremble with the overwhelming waves of pleasure. It was suddenly too much, crackling up her spine, and she pushed Anakin’s mouth away, shuddering with aftershocks, and her mind felt fuzzy as she blinked away sparks of light.
It took her a moment to appreciate how tight Obi-Wan’s grip was on Anakin’s slim hips, how he was pulling him back onto his cock as he roughly fucked forward into him, working himself deeper and deeper inside until his balls slapped against him, fully seated inside. Watching Obi-Wan fuck Anakin was mesmerizing, perfect, impossible, hers.
“Good,” Obi-Wan rumbled, snapping his hips forward, speeding up. “Very good, darling. Take it so well.”
Anakin’s face was tight with pleasure and pain, his mouth hanging open, small little moans getting punched out of him with every thrust. She slipped her fingers into his open mouth, pushing down on his tongue, and he closed his lips and sucked gratefully, his expression growing more and more blissful as he got accustomed to the thick length of Obi-Wan’s cock.
She stroked his hair, praising him in a low murmur. “You’re being so good for us, Ani, doing such a good job, taking your Master so well.”
Obi-Wan groaned at that, his hands tightening further as he tipped Anakin’s hips forward, fucking into him in a way that stroked along his prostate and made him cry out with overstiumlation. She could see how close Obi-Wan was already to coming, so she kept murmuring, making eye contact with Obi-Wan too, giving the words to them both. “You should be proud, you did so much good, you saved my life, saved my planet, saved everyone.”
Obi-Wan just shook his head, his cheeks so flushed, and he dropped his gaze down to Anakin’s back, eyes stroking down the length of his spine as he fucked him. She opened her mouth again, and he shook his head at her. “You’re going to make me come, darling.”
She smirked and kissed Anakin’s hair, fucking her fingers in and out of his mouth and speaking emphatically, seeking and finding Obi-Wan eyes. “I love you. I love you.”
Obi-Wan's eyes slid shut and his hips stuttered, and then he made a frustrated face at her as he pulled out. It only took a few pumps of his hand, and a low involuntary groan slipped from his lips as he came, his expression going tight with pleasure. Shiny streaks of his come coated Anakin’s ass, and she thought the white, pearlescent shine looked so pretty on top of the skin flushed from being slapped.
“That was your fault, Padmé” Obi-Wan laughed breathlessly, and sat back on his heels, breathing hard. “I was not nearly done making him take it.”
“Sorry,” she replied unrepentantly. “I wanted you to come.”
He gave her a knowing look, and then gave Anakin’s ass one last, light slap, his voice full of humor. “I’m proud of you, Anakin. I was prepared to be disappointed in you for coming without warning us, but you’ve done so well to hold on. I could feel how much you wanted to in the Force.”
Padmé smiled and slipped her fingers out of Anakin’s mouth so he could answer, his voice so weak and grateful, eyes wide and wet. “Thank you, I tried, Master, I tried…”
“Fuck me,” she whispered, pulling him closer, giving him a reward. “Fuck and come in me, Ani.” Anakin groaned and crawled up her body, reaching down to line up his cock and pushing deep inside her in one fast, smooth gesture. He buried his entire cock in one thrust, claiming and covering her completely, and his hips jerked down hard again, making her gasp with the force of it. “Ani!”
He kissed her forehead apologetically as his hips began moving quickly, fucking her so fast and hard. “I’m so close, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
She kissed his neck fondly and held on, enjoying the way he was using her body to get off, her thighs falling open to let him pound into her desperately over and over. She whispered in his ear. “Come, Ani. Come for me, love.”
“Now, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, sounding satisfied and sleepy, his voice still full of command. “Fuck her full of it.”
“Please,” she whimpered, and Anakin groaned loudly. With one last, rough thrust, he buried his cock deep inside and came. His face went tight and she held him close by the back of the neck, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and hugging him against her chest. “Good boy.”
Anakin shivered and went limp on top of her. He was so heavy, and his cock was still so thick inside her. She circled her hips and moaned as she realized she wanted to get off again. With a bit of effort, she pushed him off to the side, replacing his cock with her fingers as he slid out, enjoying the wet feeling of his come and using it to get herself off. She bit her lip and began to rub her clit quickly, very aware of how both men watched as she brought herself over the edge one last time.
Obi-Wan smiled softly at her as she came, running a hand soothingly up and down Anakin’s leg for a long moment before sliding off the bed. He walked nude to the bathroom and she greatly enjoyed the view as he came back with a damp towel and some bacta, carefully cleaning Anakin up and soothing his skin, passing her the towel so she could clean herself too.
Anakin was almost asleep beside her, eyes open but hazy, a loose smile on his lips. His expression was free of tension for the first time in days, and she looked at Obi-Wan curiously. “How is he in the Force?”
“Settled,” Obi-Wan said, giving him a fond smile. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, Master.” Anakin swallowed thickly, his mouth lazily shaping the words. “Thank you.”
She grinned and tipped her head to Obi-Wan in invitation, grateful for the absurd size of her bed, and he stretched out beside them both, dropping a kiss on her cheek as he relaxed. “I’m glad you’re doing better.”
“Yes,” she breathed, stroking Anakin’s cheekbone as he settled against her, an easy, peaceful sleep claiming him quickly. She shared a fond look with Obi-Wan, giving him a grateful smile. “I’m glad too.”