swkink | Prequel Trilogy Thread #1

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prequel trilogy

Prequel Trilogy Thread #1

Everything featuring saga characters from The Phantom Menace up to Revenge of the Sith goes here. Any prompts that include exclusively non-saga characters belong in the most recent Expanded Universe thread.

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Two adrenalin junkies putting themselves in more and more risky positions.

Warning - major character death

Dooku does a ritual when his padawan dies, but he can't shame the feeling Qui-Gon is entirely gone. Strange how sometimes he can feel - and perhaps even see- Qui-Gon despite knowing he's gone.

TL;DR Dooky is haunted by Qui-Gon's ghost.

Anakin discovers proof that Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were in love. How does he handle this?

Anakin likes to eat Padme out after Obi-Wan has just fucked her.

The events of Phantom Menace never happened. No Palpatine, no Anakin, no Maul, no Jar Jar. If there are no Sith to meddle with the galaxy and destroy everything, what happens to Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon?

10/10 would read

Due to sex pollen or some other mcguffin as many of the 212th as dear author can manage fuck Obi-Wan in every possible way. Want to see him stretched wide and used hard and loving it, so well fucked he can't move or think. Just as much hot and wet and nasty dear author can manage to stuff in there ;)

There are lots of rumors about the sexual prowess of the Jedi among the general public. Well, Bail knows for sure now, because Obi-Wan and Anakin have fucked him senseless. The Senator's idle curiosity results into an intense sex session with multiple orgasms, lots of physical activity and maybe even some double penetration (Jedi coordination should also be perfect, right?).
Bonus points if that's not the first joint effort by the Team, but a regular thing they do. You know, with someone in the middle. To avoid getting attached to each other.

Set during the Clone Wars, where everyone is just super stressed out and has to find their own ways to deal with it. (Bonus points for no-kissing rule, ~~double bonus points if that rule somehow gets thrown out the window at some point.~~)

Prompt: Obi-Wan and Anakin are in an established relationship but when they have to go undercover in Zygerria, like canon, Anakin has to flirt with the queen to gain her trust. Obi wan gets jealous and Anakin finds it endearing but makes it up to him in bed after the mission.

They're not a couple beforehand but end up together afterwards.

He was out of practice at this, Obi-Wan realized as he leaned into the warm bulk of his former Master. During the last few years of his Padawanship, Obi-Wan had become accustomed to burying his feelings for his Master. It had only been a crush at first, a common occurrence among Padawans. But the crush had never faded, and Obi-Wan had learned to hide his desire, his need. Now - now the years since he had spent more than a few moments at a time with Qui-Gon were telling in every racing beat of his heart, in every flush that rose in his cheeks.

The mission parameters required they act as loving spouses. Some years past, Obi-Wan would have leapt at the chance to act the part, and hopefully seduce his Master at the same time. But the distance of years had reinforced what Obi-Wan long believed - Qui-Gon saw him only as a competent Jedi, nothing more. Every touch now both lit Obi-Wan with fire and filled him with dread. He desired his Master more than ever, the distance having only strengthened his affection into a true and tempered love. But it was as clear as ever to Obi-Wan that Qui-Gon - Qui-Gon felt nothing of that sort. Even so, Obi-Wan reminded himself daily if not hourly, this time spent together was a treasure. Now that he was a Knight, he rarely saw Qui-Gon, and while this mission might be a test of his endurance, he could not help but savour the small touches and sweet smiles of his former Master, even knowing it was only acting. With that, Obi-Wan strengthened his resolve. He would view this mission as a gift, and be grateful, and ensure that his attachment didn't imperil them both.

Resolution to look upon their time together as a gift or not, the mission was still a trial for Obi-Wan. He had to maintain his mental shielding constantly, unable to relax for even a moment for fear his former Master would discover his affection. He didn't think Qui-Gon would be cruel about the fondness Obi-Wan had nurtured into love along the way. That wasn't in Qui-Gon's nature. But Obi-Wan also didn't think he could bear Qui-Gon's pity and gentle rejection.

Every touch was both agony and ecstasy, the brush of Qui-Gon's hand along Obi-Wan's arm sending a flush to his cheeks, the weight of Qui-Gon's arm around his shoulders or waist garnering a gentle lean of Obi-Wan's weight into Qui-Gon's body. Qui-Gon played his part beyond well, brushing his fingers over Obi-Wan's face, taking his hand, and sometimes - sometimes kissing him so sweetly Obi-Wan was sure his heart would break. Worst of all were the nights, when Obi-Wan laid down at Qui-Gon's side and pretended to sleep. After laying awake in tense anxiety the first night, Obi-Wan had laid down and instead meditated, not trusting his subconscious not to act out his base desires when he was dreaming. Qui-Gon didn't seem to notice - or perhaps simply no longer viewed it as his place to voice concern over Obi-Wan's bad habits. Obi-Wan didn't dare ask.

Finally though, their negotiations drew to a close, and a feast was announced to celebrate the signing of the treaty. Obi-Wan was at his charming best throughout the meal, doing his best to play his role as Qui-Gon's mate. When the last of the many courses was cleared away, a band struck up dancing music, and Obi-Wan accepted Qui-Gon's hand. His fingers were engulfed in that familiar broad palm, and Obi-Wan settled against Qui-Gon, letting the taller Jedi lead him through the steps of the first dance.

The music changed, but Qui-Gon's hands remained firm and warm on Obi-Wan, and so Obi-Wan remained in that beloved embrace. They danced each song, and Qui-Gon's hold grew slightly tighter, slightly firmer. Finally, Obi-Wan had to look up, had to see his partner's face. His head rested by then on Qui-Gon's broad shoulder, and when he shifted, Qui-Gon looked down at him in turn.

There was an unfamiliar spark in those deep blue eyes, something that nearly set Obi-Wan to trembling although he couldn't name a reason why. Qui-Gon quirked the semblance of a smile, then leaned down, brushing their lips together. Obi-Wan inhaled sharply, but chastely kissed back, wondering distantly what had brought this on. They had kissed a few times since their arrival, but never so publicly. Another kiss followed, and another. Distantly, Obi-Wan recognized the music, and knew it was important, that the kisses were expected, but also symbolic. His mind couldn't be bothered though, with remembering the meaning of the dance. He was far too desirous of the kisses Qui-Gon kept pressing to his mouth to concern himself with anything else.

The wet sweep of Qui-Gon's tongue against his lips had Obi-Wan opening instantly. Even as he did though, he quivered, wondering what had changed. Qui-Gon had never pressed such an intimacy on him before, and while Obi-Wan would savour that kiss, safeguard it as the treasure it was, he could think of no reason for such a deepening of their charade. Qui-Gon's mouth kept his engaged though. Obi-Wan supposed he could pull away, put on an act of shyness for their hosts. But it felt so very good to have Qui-Gon's mouth pressed so insistently against his, that slick tongue twining with his and tasting every corner of his mouth. The sweet pleasure of it shorted out Obi-Wan's mind, and he moaned helplessly into the kiss, melting against his once Master's chest.

Obi-Wan recollected himself as Qui-Gon's mouth sucked a hot bruise beneath his ear, then nipped at the side of his neck. He whimpered, then dazedly pushed at Qui-Gon's chest. There was no real strength in the push, but Qui-Gon stepped back regardless from where he had held Obi-Wan against the wall in their shared chambers. Obi-Wan blinked up at Qui-Gon, licking his lips as he tried to formulate the correct question to determine what in the Sith hells was going on.

"Master," Obi-Wan started, and Qui-Gon flinched as if struck, retreating back to the seating area and collapsing into a chair.

"I - forgive me Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said wearily. "I - I must have misunderstood."

"I - I'm not sure I understand," Obi-Wan said carefully.

"I -" Qui-Gon started, the rose and began to pace agitatedly, pushing his long greying hair back off his face. "I had thought - I had thought when you kissed me back during the gavotte you were - acknowledging my intent, and reciprocating." Obi-Wan felt his face heat, then blanche. A gavotte.

"Oh," Obi-Wan breathed in quiet understanding. Chaste kisses would have been more than acceptable during the gavotte, yes - expected even. But the deeper kiss - his response had been a declaration, an acceptance, even if he'd been somewhat disoriented about the message he was sending. "Oh," he said again, face heating, and went to Qui-Gon, taking those large, warm hands in his. Kneeling, Obi-Wan kissed Qui-Gon's knuckles chastely, then his palm. Looking up, Obi-Wan caught Qui-Gon's gaze, then pressed a wet, open mouthed kiss to the inside of his wrist. Here, that would be just as fervid a declaration as the deep kisses of the gavotte.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon groaned, and sat, hauling Obi-Wan up onto his lap and pulling him down to take his mouth in a deep, eager kiss. "My dearest," Qui-Gon breathed when they parted, and Obi-Wan laughed, feeling slightly hysterical. To keep from embarrassing himself, he pressed soft kisses all over Qui-Gon's beloved face, peppering his forehead and eyelids and cheeks. "Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon breathed again, and Obi-Wan pressed a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth before kissing him fully, slow and sweet.

"Take me to bed husband," Obi-Wan commanded, and Qui-Gon stood so quickly Obi-Wan's head spun. He laughed delightedly though, and then Qui-Gon was laying him in the massive bed and carefully peeling away his clothes as if he were the most precious of treasures. "We will speak about this," Obi-Wan murmured, pulling Qui-Gon down over him. "But I need you too much to wait."

"And you shall have me," Qui-Gon promised huskily, then leaned down to kiss the notch of Obi-Wan's clavicle and his budding nipples, the curve of his pectorals and the dips in his abdomen, the hollow of his navel and the silken crease between torso and thigh. Obi-Wan moaned softly as the soft kisses were followed by gentle touches, arousal burning brighter and brighter. "Patience," Qui-Gon all but growled, then licked a stripe up Obi-Wan's cock that nearly made him come. Obi-Wan shouted at the sensation, then hauled Qui-Gon up over him for another kiss.

"If you don't want me to come yet, that's really not helping," Obi-Wan murmured, gently rolling their hips together.

"Want you to come inside me," Qui-Gon growled, and Obi-Wan groaned, hands tightening reflexively on Qui-Gon's hips.

"Hands and knees," Obi-Wan commanded breathlessly, and then fumbled for something to use as lubricant. When he turned back to the bed, his heart clenched with desire and affection. "Beautiful," he murmured, letting his hand trail over Qui-Gon's muscular flank. Kneeling behind Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan leaned down to kiss the shiny circle of scar tissue on his back that marked the exit wound of the 'saber strike that had nearly killed Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon trembled, and then Obi-Wan was kissing down his spine. "Easy my love, I won't hurt you," Obi-Wan promised, then slicked his fingers thoroughly and warmed more lube in his hand before gently stroking into Qui-Gon's crease. "Beautiful," Obi-Wan purred, watching Qui-Gon open up under him. While Obi-Wan had fantasized extensively about what it might be like to bed his former Master, none of his imaginings compared in the least with reality. Qui-Gon groaned eagerly, clenching around his fingers, exquisite muscular control allowing him to accept Obi-Wan's questing fingers without pain or hesitation. Obi-Wan took his time as much as possible, imprinting every sensation in his memory.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon all but begged, rolling his hips eagerly.

"Yes," Obi-Wan agreed, easing his fingers free and stroking lube over his aching erection. "I have you," he promised, and then he was slowly fucking into Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon groaned deeply, opening for Obi-Wan beautifully. Obi-Wan let out a wordless sound of pleasure, leaning in to kiss that scar again as he sank in to the root, thanking the Force that his Master lived, that he had this chance to share his love with Qui-Gon.

"Harder," Qui-Gon gasped, "kriff Obi-Wan, need you."

Obi-Wan swore under his breath, his hips stuttering and hitching, then settling into a deep hard rhythm. Qui-Gon let out a deep groan, gasping and cursing as Obi-Wan's powerful thrusts teased his prostate. Obi-Wan rubbed gently at Qui-Gon's back for a bit, a contrast with the almost rough pistoning of his hips. At a bit of pressure, Qui-Gon lowered his shoulders closer to the bed, then groaned as the angle of penetration changed. A gentle pull at his hair, and he keened, Obi-Wan's cock hitting his prostate hard on nearly every deep thrust.

"Come for me," Obi-Wan panted out, winding Qui-Gon's long hair around his fist and tugging gently. Qui-Gon's breath hitched and stuttered, and then he was babbling gibberish as he came, Obi-Wan's name mixed into his garbled pleas. Obi-Wan groaned deeper, picking up the pace. His hips snapped against Qui-Gon's, their skin slapping together, the slick lubricant squelching wetly with every thrust. Obi-Wan cursed, sinking as deep as possible in Qui-Gon and holding there as he came. "Beautiful," he murmured, and kissed Qui-Gon between his shoulder blades before snuggling them into the blankets. Qui-Gon mumbled back almost inaudibly, but they were both too sated for coherent conversation.

Obi-Wan woke come morning to wet suction on his cock. He reached down sleepily, tangling his fingers in long, heavy locks. Obi-Wan moaned, mind going white with pleasure as he remembered the night before, Qui-Gon open and eager beneath him. That beloved mouth kissed him back to full awareness before too long, and Obi-Wan licked into every corner, savouring the taste of his seed on Qui-Gon's tongue.

"Do you want me to return the favour?" Obi-Wan asked curiously, reaching down to lightly fondle Qui-Gon's morning erection. "Or would you rather fuck me?" Qui-Gon groaned, rubbing himself into Obi-Wan's hand.

"Your mouth," Qui-Gon husked, then kissed Obi-Wan deeply. "Want your mouth." Obi-Wan practically smirked at that, then gently pushed Qui-Gon over on his back. While one day soon, Obi-Wan intended to spend as long as he pleased learning Qui-Gon's most sensitive places with his mouth, the pearlescent drop of fluid at the tip of Qui-Gon's thick cock was far more enticing. Obi-Wan flicked his tongue out, teasing as he lapped up the pre-come that dripped from Qui-Gon's erection. He licked kittenishly at first, soft little flutters of the tongue over the swollen red head of Qui-Gon's cock. Qui-Gon fisted his hands in the sheets and groaned, and Obi-Wan rewarded his patience by sucking the first four inches of Qui-Gon's cock into his mouth.

With Qui-Gon as wound up as he was, it didn't take long for Obi-Wan to suck him to orgasm. Obi-Wan swallowed down every drop, sucking and licking until Qui-Gon keened in over-sensitive discomfort. Obi-Wan backed off at that, nuzzling at Qui-Gon's balls and then suckling them one at a time before licking lower, pressing wet kisses against Qui-Gon's perineum before gently spreading Qui-Gon's lax legs and licking into his crease. Qui-Gon lacked the energy - or urge - to do any thing but reach down and gape himself open so that Obi-Wan could explore at his leisure. Obi-Wan nibbled gently at Qui-Gon's rim in reward, then set about licking and sucking and tongue fucking him until Qui-Gon about levitated off the bed as he came again, nearly dry after his previous orgasm.

"Sith hells," Qui-Gon managed to get out after a little while. Obi-Wan chuckled softly, cuddling against Qui-Gon's side. "I should have done this years ago," the older Jedi grumped, and Obi-Wan scoffed, but kissed his shoulder.

"I would have welcomed it," Obi-Wan assured. "But for now, I shall simply be grateful the Force brought us back together."

"Well, or Master Yoda," Qui-Gon teased, and Obi-Wan barked out a sharp laugh, but didn't argue.

"We'll send him a tureen of stewed beetles," Obi-Wan suggested, and a few months later, they did.

Due to miscommunication during a kink discussion with Anakin, Padme decides to surprise him and invites Obi-Wan to their bed. Anakin is, well, mortified, because that was NOT what he had in mind, but he does not have the heart to tell this to Padme and he feels that explaining this would be even more embarrassing. So he goes along with it, thinking that he is doing this for Padme, but as it comes to Obi-Wan fucking him, he realizes that yes, THAT is what he actually wanted.

Bonus points for Anakin accidentally spilling later that he was not initially okay with it so that he could be showered in remorse and aftercare.

Anakin has a hand kink and can't help but compare the hands of his lovers, while they stretch him (may not be limited to fisting!).

That this has no replies is a damn shame. I think this is lovely, OP.

Anything where Obi Wan is a prince and he and Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker fall in love.

Consider the following possibilities:
1) Prince Obi Wan is the target of an assassination plot and Anakin is his Jedi bodyguard
2) Obi Wan's planet is feuding with a neighbor and Anakin is dispatched by the council to oversee a peaceful resolution that may or may not include an unwanted betrothal
3) Obi Wan is abducted and Anakin is the Jedi sent to rescue him
4) Obi Wan is an exiled prince who enlists the help of the Jedi to free his home planet from the tyrannical usurper (maybe the council refuses to intervene but Anakin defies them)
5) Obi Wan sneaks out of the palace dressed as a commoner and runs into undercover Jedi Anakin in a seedy part of town

Preferred genres: drama, h/c, angst with a happy ending, porn with plot

"General Kenobi! Mmmm... you aaaare a bold one..."

In which an ex-Kaleesh lady cyborg and Jedi Master slowly, grudgingly, develop the hots for each other, to the point where they're basically just flirt-fighting through Utapau.

Anakin is Darth Vader height (6'8) with a back breaking dick and destroys 5'2 Padme's pussy. Would love if they were as in love with each other as canon (more romantic Anidala than Vaderdala). Not required, but perks:

Wall Sex
Manhandling
Cunnilingus
Fellatio + gagging
Public Sex

In the Rotunda 1/7 "Night"

Padme knew her duty. It was a yoke she graciously bore. Her days were long and her nights were longer, every ounce of herself, her soul and her body and her mind dedicated to the institution that defended liberty; The Grand Republic.

Yet, when the sun set, the city was still alight, alive with the rush of nocturnal species of Coruscant starting their days. A not insignificant number of senators held Congress according to a similar schedule. And so, Senator Padme Amidala dressed, her gown front-laced and her hair braided, as her maids had turned in for the night and she didn’t have the energy to curl her own hair. Though she hated herself for the moment of shallow hesitation, she couldn’t help the lingering pause at the mirror.

Appearances were everything— the appearance of power, of strength, of wealth, more so than she would have liked to admit. Padme was young, but not so young as to be treated like a child. The Naboo valued youth above all. This was not true for the majority of the galaxy. If the strict rules of comportment as the Queen of Naboo had not engraved the lesson into her, the sure ridicule of the cut-throat Senate surely would have.

The neck rings forced her posture erect, and the slim gown and tall heels lengthened the line of her body. She pinned the long braids tall, and she felt like she never abdicated. Her hair was long, and the thuyli and agate and silver beads weighed her down like the crown— the symbol of marriage to her people and the eternal state of Naboo.

As long as Naboo shall live, so too shall this oath to her people, she mouthed the lines from her regal vows.

The vows she had in a moment of careless abandon, betrayed when she took a man as her husband. Naboo couldn’t hold her, couldn’t love her back the way Anakin could. Naboo couldn’t set her aflame with desire.

Then again, neither could her husband. Not at this moment. Anakin was deployed to the Expansion Regions, and his assignment didn’t finish for another three weeks.

It was all well; for now, she was Naboo’s wife, the Queen, the Senator, the voice of her people in the endless conflict of war. And she would speak.

The meeting flew by. Late night sessions always did. Despite how carefully she had put her face on, she felt pierced by the experience, and drained, like a compromised water silo during the dry season in the plains. Throughout the entire session, she could not seem to chase away the sensation of dreadful anticipation. Padme did not fancy herself a Jedi, she had no such romantic notions, but her intuition was good.

It was during closing remarks that the first sensation startled her from her drowsy, frustrated daze.

She almost— almost— brushed it off. A loose hair, or perhaps a pesky fly.

But the sensation warmed, like a tiny hot patch, and traveled. It heated the cool metal, digging into the soft flesh of her breastbone, to her chest, to her belly, where it rested on the gentle rise and fall of her belly as she breathed. If she closed her eyes, it was big enough, splayed in an irregular enough pattern to resemble a hand…

It pressed her back effortlessly, and instantly it brought her back to her suite at the 500 Republica. Instead of the cool synthleather of the chair, her knees were splayed wide on powerful thighs, her head thrown back against a hot, bare chest, pussy lips open like her mouth, split as she gasped, choking from the grip on her neck as with every ruthless, powerful thrust—

Eyes opened. She didn’t realize she had closed them. A dream perhaps?

No. The pressure intensified. The heat. She wouldn’t mistake that hand for any other sensation.

Her eyes half lidded with suspicion, she glanced to the side, scanning the crowd for the one she knew couldn’t be there. It was impossible.

But nothing was impossible to him.

Her husband was unlike the other Jedi— there was a weight to his regard.

She was too dignified to squirm, but it was nothing to inch her seat in the pod back, out of the dim lights the Nocturnal Council preferred. She let the invisible force push her back into her seat, and uncrossed dainty ankles. She was not crass enough to splay open her knees, but if Anakin had been there…

The hot pressure moved lower, pushing aside her girdle and sliding down into her panties.

Padme swallowed, folding her hands over her lap. Her legs went limp as the mental fingers touched her clit. Her skirt was long, nearly ankle length. But if she raised her knee high and crossed them, she could slip a hand down her waist band and—

A grip around her throat, so familiar it instantly transmitted her to the past. She was pinned to the bed, her body flung forward uncontrollably with the power of Anakin’s deep, relentless thrusts, scrambling for purchase on her expensive silk sheets. He hadn’t even needed to lean forward to grab her around the neck, the length of his arms great enough. He’d walked in on her masturbating, and perhaps he’d caught a drift of her thoughts, the rare days her amorous thoughts drifted to anyone other than Anakin.

Think only of me when you touch yourself there, Angel. Because you’re mine, aren’t you?

Her eyes slid closed, and when her chin tilted up, it wasn’t because of the neck rings.

“Angel,” the voice she wanted to hear more than any other whispered into her ear, and weighty hands settled gently on her shoulders, one hot flesh, the other buttery soft synth leather. “I wanted to surprise you in our bed. Imagine my disappointment to find it cold.”

“You’re back early, Anakin,” she whispered, eyes forward, seeing nothing. “I would have been ready for you had I known.”

He stepped back, and dragged her chair further into the shadows of the pod. His hood was up, and when she looked up he towered over her more than he usually did. His eyes were in shadow, but she could see the grin on his lips, the deep dimple in his chin. A complex grin, as hungry as it was sweet. But she didn’t need to see his eyes to know they were on her.

“No you wouldn’t have,” he whispered, “but don’t worry. There’s enough time for me and your precious democracy.”

“Wait,” she breathed, but she didn’t mean it, and Anakin knew she didn’t mean it, so he ducked down, fluid, and pressed his lips to hers. His hands, which once were neutrally on her shoulders migrated down, and one hand gripped her breast, as the other pinned her back. The sense of pressure ducked down and flicked her clit through her pathetically practical panties.

He kissed her, and kissed her, until she gasped and heaved into his mouth when he pulled back, chasing the warmth of his lips as they moved across her cheek, then her dimple, then down her neck, sending a shudder down her spine.

It was dark— to her. Could the other Senators see so far into her pod, even as dim as the lights were, as black as Anakin’s raiment was? Could they see the pale peak of his chin? Could they see past her crumbling facade of queenly composure? Did they see her dissolve?

She wanted them to see. She had everything to hide, and nothing to hide.

“Get down,” she hissed, “eat me out.”

“As my Angel desires,” he smiled into her neck. Dropping to his knees in a way that would have been ungainly for anyone other than the preternaturally graceful Jedi, he slid her legs open and ducked under her skirt, the black pleated fabric blending in with his cloak. From afar, Padme hysterically thought, maybe it would look like a particularly voluminous piece, not something unusual as far as Senator Amidala’s fashion choices.

He pressed his hot tongue to the outside of her plain— plain, dear Force, she should have planned something— underwear, and then tore them in half at her navel.

Propriety forgotten, Padme hissed as the fabric bit into the side of her thighs and splayed her legs, scooting forward so that Anakin had to fully bow his back and squirrel his way completely under the pod.

He licked her outer lips, drinking in the gloss that had already leaked in anticipation, parting them skillfully with his tongue to warmly caress the shyer inner lips. He sucked like a desperate babe, then dipped his wide tongue in and out, and finally— finally licked straight up and onto her stiff, wet clit.

He knew he’d found it at that moment, and sucked with ferocity— no teeth, all lips, and the sensation traveled up from Padme’s hot core to her tingling back to her toes, and she pressed back and ground down hard onto Anakin’s face. His big hands gripped her waist, holding her still as she squirmed, and her eyelids fluttered as she tried to keep her face neutral. She wanted to rock back and forth, grab his hair and press him tighter, deeper, but his head was hidden beneath her skirt, and she was in public—

Breathing fast and hard, she tightened her core and sighed loudly through her nose as she came at the thought of one of her fellow Senators noticing. Would Anakin poke his head up, his nose and chin wet with her cum? Would his respectable Jedi calm endure?

Of course it would. Her Annie was utterly shameless. The image was vivid in her head. He would lick his lips and smile, the daring grin he reserved for strangers, wide and threatening and full of teeth.

Body lax with the force of her sudden orgasm, Padme leaned back in her chair as Anakin rested his head on her thigh and pressed a gentle kiss to the opposite leg.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Prequel Trilogy Thread #1

Padme/Anakin - public sex

Quigon + Dooku - funeral rights

Anakin + Qui/Obi

Anakin/Obi-Wan/Padme - wet and messy

Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan - Canon AU

Re: Quigon + Dooku - funeral rights

212th/Obi-Wan - just lots of sex

Obi-Wan/Anakin/Bail - Jedi stamina

Sabé/Obi-Wan + friends with benefits

TCW! Bottom Obi-Wan/ Top Anakin Jealous/Makeup Sex

Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon - Pretend Married

FILL - Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon - "Gavotte"

Obi-Wan/Anakin/Padme - miscommunication leads to threesome

Padme/Anakin, Obi-Wan/Anakin, fisting

Re: FILL - Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon - "Gavotte"

Obi Wan/Anakin obi wan is a prince au

Obi-Wan x FGrievous

Padme/Anakin- Size!Kink, Strength!Kink

FILL: Padme/Anakin - public sex- 1/7