freudsweetlamb

[freudsweetlamb]

𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐗𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 +𝟏𝟖

— A Soft Psychology Student x Dilf! Anakin Smut

“Freud believed that in early development, the mouth is the first site of pleasure and interaction with the world...” your professor’s voice echoed in your mind, her words still clinging to the edges of your thoughts hours after class had ended. "If a person is fixated at this stage due to unmet needs, it could manifest later as a strong attachment to oral stimulation—including in sexual contexts."

You blinked up at the ceiling, lips slightly parted in thought, your textbook still open beside you on the bed, untouched for the last fifteen minutes. The page blurred as your thoughts drifted deeper.

Could that be why I like giving oral so much? It wasn’t a judgment—just a genuine question. Curiosity was your compass, especially when it came to things that made you feel something. And if studying psychoanalysis had taught you anything, it was that the more questions you asked, the closer you got to understanding yourself —even if this is just the tip of the iceberg.

“What are you racking that pretty little brain over this time, sweetheart?” came Anakin’s warm, amused voice from the doorway.

You turned your head lazily, smiling at the sight of him already undoing the first few buttons of his shirt, his dark tie loose around his neck, the day clinging to him in the way his sand hair had fallen slightly out of place. He looked tired—but still so achingly beautiful.

“Guess,” you said, voice dreamy.

“Freud,” he said without missing a beat.

You whine with a pout. “Am I that predictable, daddy?”

Anakin’s smile deepened, a little crooked, a little smug. “No, baby. I just know my little girl too well.” He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, pulling you slightly toward him. You didn’t resist—his presence was magnetic, grounding.

Your fingers drifted to rest lightly on his thigh, tracing invisible patterns, shyly thoughtful. He noticed, as he always did, resting his hand gently over yours.

“What is it?” he asked softly, voice low, curious but never pressing. “Got that look on your face again like you’re about to psychoanalyze both of us.”

You laughed under your breath, then bit your lip. “It’s just… in class we talked about oral fixation, and how sometimes it shows up when someone didn’t get enough comfort or stimulation in infancy. And, well...”

“Well?” he prompted, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You looked at him from under your lashes. “What if that’s why I love giving you pleasure that way? Is that weird?”

Anakin’s eyes softened immediately, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. “No, baby. That’s not weird at all.”

You leaned into him instinctively as he continued, his voice like velvet.

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to give love that way. And if Freud wants to call it a fixation, fine. But I call it devotion. I call it knowing exactly how to touch someone—to give them comfort and power at the same time.”

Your chest warmed at his words.

“And if it comes from some deeper part of you that still wants to feel safe and connected,” he said, tipping your chin gently toward him, “then that just means you trust me. Enough to let me in.”

You nodded slowly, heart full. “I do, daddy. I really do.”

His lips brushed your forehead in a tender kiss. “Then that’s all that matters, sweetheart. Not what Freud says. Not what anyone says.”

You gazed up at Anakin with those big and innocent eyes, a soft smile playing at your pink lips. Even in the dim lamp light of your shared bedroom, you looked like an angel - all creamy skin, cascading curls, and a body that was simultaneously delicate and alluring.

"Daddy, I want to make you feel good," you said, voice breathy and sweet. "Can I... can I please you with my mouth? I want to taste you, to feel you melt apart because of me..."

You sat up slowly, the silk sheets falling away to reveal the lacy pink lingerie Anakin had bought for you. The pretty fabric clung to your curves, the low neckline exposing the swell of your breasts. You looked up at him through long lashes as you swung your legs over the side of the bed.

Anakin's blue eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you, his gaze roaming appreciatively over your nearly naked form. He reached out to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

"Baby, you don't have to keep offering. You know how crazy you make me" he murmured, voice low and rough with want. "Seeing you in that lingerie... it's almost too good. Too perfect."

He leaned in closer, lips a hairsbreadth from yours. "But I want you to be sure, sweetheart. This is your choice, always. Ours is a love built on trust and respect, right? So if you want to taste me, to take me apart with that pretty little mouth..."

Anakin's hand slid down to the nape of your neck, fingers twining in your golden curls. "Then I'm all yours, my little girl. Every inch of me. I'm yours to please, and to possess."

You nuzzled into his palm, breathing in the comforting scent of him. Then you slipped off the bed, sinking to your knees before him on the carpet. Looking up at your older boyfriend with those angelic eyes, you started to undo his belt, eager to worship him in the way you knew he craved. In the way that made him feel cherished and desired beyond measure.

You looked up at Anakin through a halo of curls as you slowly unzipped his pants, revealing his growing arousal straining against the fabric of his white boxers. Keeping your lovely eyes locked with his, you leaned in, placing a soft, reverent kiss on the bulge before carefully tugging his boxer down, allowing his hard cock to spring free.

"Daddy," you breathed, wrapping your delicate fingers around his shaft and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You feel so big, so perfect..."

Wrapping your lips around the swollen head, you started to suckle softly, your tongue swirling and flickering over the sensitive tip. You could taste the first bead of his essence, salty and musky, and it made you whimper around him.

Anakin groaned deeply, one hand fisting in your curls as you took him deeper into your adorable mouth. "Fuck, baby girl..." he grunted, hips rocking slightly to push more of his thick cock past your lips. "Your mouth feels incredible..."

You relaxed your jaw and took him deeper, feeling him bump the back of your throat. You held him there for a moment, throat constricting around him as you breathed through your nose, savoring the heady, masculine scent of him.

"Oh god, sweetheart..." Anakin gasped, fingers tightening in your hair as you started to bob your head, taking him deeper and faster with each movement. "Your mouth is made for this, made for pleasing me..."

You could feel him throbbing against your tongue, could hear the urgent sounds of his pleasure. It spurred you on, making you suck harder, take him deeper, until you were swallowing around his thick cock with each movement.

"Little girl," Anakin panted, his other hand fisting in the sheets beside him. "Baby, if you keep that up, I won't last... I'm going to cum so hard down your throat, sweetheart..."

You looked up at him, eyes watering slightly but shining with love and desire, and doubled your efforts. You wanted to taste him, to feel him explode in ecstasy because of you. Because of the devotion and passion you put into pleasing him.

With a strangled moan of your name, Anakin's hips jerked forward, burying himself deep in your mouth as he started to cum. You felt the first hot, salty spurts hit the back of your throat, gulping and swallowing quickly to take every drop of his release. His grip on your hair tightened, holding you in place as he rode out the intense waves of his orgasm.

"Fuuuuck, my lovely baby!" Anakin groaned, long and low, his deep voice resonating through the room. "Take it all, baby. Swallow every last drop like a good girl I know you're."

As his thrusts slowed, you gentled your movements, bringing your mouth slowly off his softening shaft. You looked up at him with hooded eyes, your lips curling into a satisfied, loving smile. Using your thumb, you carefully wiped a stray drop of his essence from the corner of your sweet mouth.

"Did that feel good, daddy?" you asked softly, your voice slightly hoarse from the thorough workout your throat had just received. "I love making you feel that way..."

Anakin looked down at you with a mix of awe and adoration, his chest heaving with each breath. He brushed your hair back tenderly, thumb tracing your cheek. "Sweetheart, that was incredible... You're perfect. Absolutely perfect."

He helped you stand up, pulling you onto his lap so you were straddling him. Wrapping his strong arms around you, he held you close, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your sweet scent.

"My pretty angel," he murmured against your skin, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone. "You have no idea what you do to me. No idea how much I love you."

You melted into his embrace, resting your head on his shoulder as you held him just as tightly. In that moment, you were both lost in the afterglow, basking in the intimacy and love that passed between you.

"I love you too, daddy," you whispered. "More than anything in this world."

TAGLIST: @haydenchristensenisbae

[freudsweetlamb]

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐔𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐎𝐏𝐒

— A Soft Psychology Student x Older Anakin One-shot

When there’s a fixation on any of the psychosexual phases, it can manifest in behaviors or traits that reflect the unresolved conflict of that stage. Like the oral phase—if something goes wrong there, we might regress later in life. Smoking. Overeating. Biting. Sucking.

You read the highlighted passage with dreamy fascination, your baby-pink highlighter lying uncapped beside the textbook, its matching marks glowing softly on the page. A strawberry lollipop twirled idly on your tongue, sticky-sweet and slow, as you hummed in thought.

Freud knew things, you mused, rolling onto your stomach. Legs bent lazily in the air, you let them swing back and forth as your eyes followed each line, absorbing every word like candy.

College had introduced you to psychoanalysis, but Freud? He had you. The more you read, the more his theories crept into your thoughts, your daydreams. Hours would slip away as you highlighted and annotated with your sparkly pink gel pen, your notebook now full of little hearts beside the most interesting passages.

What other fixations are there…? you wondered, turning the page slowly, eager for more. You nibbled the edge of your lollipop stick, scanning the next paragraph.

The familiar sound of boots across hardwood was so gentle you almost didn’t notice. But then...

“What are you doing, little girl?”

Your breath caught, lips releasing the lollipop with a quiet pop. That voice deep, warm, just a little amused, was unmistakable.

“Daddy,” you murmured, eyes lighting up as you turned your head.

Anakin Skywalker knelt beside the couch, hair tousled from the wind, his black shirt stretching across broad shoulders. He looked like every bit the storm you loved: dangerous and gentle at once. His gaze dropped to your lollipop, then met your eyes again with a smirk.

“I was studying,” you said sweetly, shifting just a little to show him the open textbook. “But I got lost in it. There's so much…” you pouted, lips plush and sticky from sugar.

He leaned closer, plucking the lollipop from your fingers and slipping it between his lips instead. His hand found your hair, ruffling it affectionately. “Mmm,” he said, tasting it—and you. “My girl always studies so hard. You’re so clever, sweetheart.”

You flushed instantly, your cheeks warming as your heart fluttered. He always knew how to make you feel like the brightest little thing in the room.

“Tell me what you're learning,” he said, standing with a soft groan as his knees cracked. “Educate me, my lovely professor.”

You giggled and sat up, scooting over just enough so he could sit down beside you. Then, without hesitation, you crawled onto his lap, nestling into the space that had long since become yours. With your book in hand and his arm wrapping around your waist, you felt invincible, safe, adored, and treasured.

“Okay, so,” you began, eyes flicking shyly up to his. “A fixation happens when a person gets kind of... stuck in a psychosexual phase. Like, if something isn’t resolved, they might regress later through behaviors that match that stage.”

“Like sucking on things?” he teased, nudging your lollipop back against your lips. You took it with a small smile, blushing.

“Yeah, like that…” you murmured, sucking slowly before continuing. “But there’s more. Like the phallic phase. That’s when children start showing interest in the parent of the opposite sex. If they don’t resolve that desire or rivalry, it can lead to… um… attraction to older partners. Or seeing them as parental figures. Like… seeking comfort and safety they didn’t get back then.”

As you spoke, your voice grew softer. Your blush deepened. The weight of what you were saying, what it revealed, sat heavy and sweet in the air.

Anakin tilted your chin up with a gentle knuckle, his touch warm and reverent.

“So my little girl didn’t get all her needs met, huh?” he murmured, eyes dark and full of understanding. “No wonder you melt when I call you that.”

You swallowed, heart racing, lollipop forgotten as you leaned into him, skin tingling under his gaze.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then your temple. “Daddy’s here now. And I’ll give you everything you need.”

You sighed into his chest as he pulled you close, arms wrapping around you like a lullaby. Your book slipped from your lap to the couch cushion as you let yourself relax against him completely, heart beating steadily beneath his.

Freud may have had his theories.

But your favorite case study?

Was this: a girl curled up on her older lover’s lap, lips stained pink from sugar and praise, and the safest place in the world being the arms of the man who loved her like she’d always deserved to be loved.

[freudsweetlamb]

freud sweet lamb ᥫ᭡.🍥⋆🐇་༘🌷.ೃ࿔

❝i talk to god about you (and my mother)❞

🎀 psych baby • 18 • lace + libido 🎀

🌷 daddy issues but intellectual

🐇 freud would’ve loved to study me

🩰 melancholic, flirtatious, slightly repressed babygirl

──────────────────────── psychoanalyze me like one of your french girls