yosira

[yosira]

obiwan leades anakin to the council 21 BBY holophoto in color

[yosira]

"Kiss me on the mouth and set me free."

[yosira]

Buried in the Archives

Warning: NSFW content; M/F, fingering, semi-forced orgasm, dom!Anakin, kinky stuff in the library, minors do not interact!

Description: You like spending your time in the Jedi archives. Anakin doesn't see the point.

Word Count: 1.1k | AO3 link

You’ve spent countless hours of silence in the Jedi archives.

In both awe and reverence, you always maintained quiet conduct among the tomes and data tapes. There was an almost meditative quality in being surrounded by a millennia of knowledge. You found peace here.

Anakin did not share the same level of respect you had for the library.

“Anakin-!”

His name leaves your lips in a sharp, halting gasp. Deep within the archives, in the section on The Battle of Chandaar -25,150 BBY to 25,130 BBY, he’s cornered you up against a shelf where he’s sure that no one will be able to hear.

As long as you keep quiet, of course.

Your admonishment only drives him further. His lips leave a searing trail of heat down your neck as they work into your collar. His hands are never able to stay idle, one stroking the curve of your body between your ribs and your behind, the other sneaking its way in between the breast of your robes.

Your hands, however, are anchored to his shoulders. Where you’d once sought to push him away after he’d pounced, they now clung to him tightly as he tried his damnedest to drown your inhibitions in him.

And you would never openly admit it, but he was winning.

“A-Ani-“ you shudder as he flicks his tongue hard into the dimple of your collarbone. “An…Anakin,” you curb your moan into a hiss, not letting up. “W-we can’t-“

His fingers find your nipple, tweaking it into the fabric of your undershirt and arresting your protests.

“Why not?” He groans against your neck while pressing bruising kisses to shivering flesh. You open your mouth to answer, but your thoughts are scattered across the library and you can’t seem to collect enough wits to respond.

Anakin takes this as a sign to continue - as if he’d ever consider stopping. He also takes the opportunity presented by your parted lips, drawing you into a hungry kiss. Deft fingers circle around the bud of your breast in a tease before he pinches you hard enough that you yelp into his mouth.

He muffles the sound by pushing his tongue further into your mouth and forcing your body harder against the data tape deck. You swear that through it all, you can feel his lips turn upward in smug satisfaction.

He digs the nails of his other hand into your ass before dragging them around and across your upper thigh. His fingers skim upward, unlatching your belt with a few deft motions, then slip past the waistband of your pants and undergarments.

“Widen your stance for me.”

Anakin’s voice slurs against your ear as his touch skims the soft petals of your sex. The urge to bare yourself to him becomes almost as potent as the liquid heat rushing to your belly, and you part your legs just enough for him. You hate what he does to you, how he fills your senses and makes your head swim to the point where you can’t even put together a decent retort, you can only obey.

“Good girl,” he croons.

A deep, nearly feral chuckle rumbles against the worked skin of your neck as Anakin’s hand slips further between the narrows of your thigh.

His other hand released your nipple and retracts from beneath your tunic - then clamps itself over your mouth.

Anakin pulls away from your neck, and your field of vision is filled by his face. He wears that smarmy attitude well, from the dark, lusty shade in his eyes, to the way one corner of his lips pull into a crooked smile. Even the way his hair falls, one dark tuft shadowing his brow, is alluring.

He watches you as his thumb brushes little feather-light circles around your clit.

Your body stiffens in suspense as you feed whimpers against his hand. His grip is not so tight that it restricts your breathing, but your exhale audibly from your nose, the visible parts of your expression waffling between indignation and pleading for his touch.

Still working your clit, Anakin’s finger slides it along the length of your lips, tracing them with your own slick. A measure of pride filters onto his face.

“Worked up already, are we?”

His tone is as pleased as it is taunting. You try and glare at him, but his finger sinks slowly into your core and dulls the edges of your expression.

You call his name, a curse and a prayer, muffled against his hand. Your hips twitch, arching into the hand probing at your core. Force, why did he have to be so good at this?

-And in the library, of all places! But that was the fun of it, he’d said while crowding you against the shelf in a section that rarely saw another soul. That, and he had the unrepentant desire to watch you, so prim and proper, come undone in his arms within the walls of your precious library.

A second finger joins the first, crooking inside of you at an angle that has you seizing, then quivering. His thumb continues to rub your clit in circles, faster and with more pressure now. “You can handle it, can’t you? Of course you can,” his voice is laced with need.

You’re getting louder now without realizing it. The noises his hand muffles are more wanton, more desperate, more pleasured. Pressed against a wall of sacred Jedi text, you were fast approaching a shameful climax.

In your stomach, heat coiled in on itself until the tension snapped. You hit your peak with a desperate cry pitched against his hand and your walls pulsing around his fingers. An unrelenting pleasure swarms your core, taking you by surprise in its sheer intensity. It grapples at you with a thousand phantom arms, dragging you down into the sinful depths of bliss.

Fortunately, Anakin catches you the moment your knees decide to buckle. One hand across the small of your back to help you keep your balance, the other still between your legs, working you slowly as you come down from that dizzying peak.

Your eyes are closed, head tilted back against the data tapes as you catch your breath. Even without seeing him, you can feel the weight of Anakin’s smug gaze on you.

You expect that, but you didn’t expect him to follow up with a mock lecture:

“I thought you were supposed to be quiet in the library?”