“Love Is A Sacrament That Should Be Taken Kneeling”

“Love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling”

—Oscar Wilde

talk huttese to me

anakin skywalker x fem!reader

summary: intent to get his mind off of his hard work, you ask to learn more about anakin’s native language: huttese. when he talks dirty to you in it, you can’t help but beg for more. and he gets off to the fact you have no idea what kind of depraved things he’s saying to you while he pleasures you.

MINORS DNI 18+

character(s): anakin skywalker, obi wan kenobi (brief convo at the beginning)

pov: 2nd

word count: 6k

notes:

i used the huttese dictionary linked here just a little, the rest i made up bcos hayden made up a bunch of shit when he spoke it in episode 2 cos george told him to so i’m rolling with that energy

if clarification is needed, there is at one point in the fic that anakin’s dialogue is already translated for you (the actual person reading this), thats cos i didnt want to keep coming up with huttese and the reader asking anakin what it meant so you (the actual person reading this) could understand what he was saying <3

i love it when writing shows my man a little traumatized & deranged ✨

disclaimer: i want to preface this by saying that i do not think foreign languages are barbaric or that just because it’s not english it’s barbaric. huttese is the language of smugglers, slave traders, sleazy businessmen, and started out as a lingua franca. anakin knows it as the language he used when he himself was a slave, spoken by the people that bought him and his mom, and often criticizes it because of his personal vendetta. they do not reflect my opinion of languages other than english

warnings: explicit sex, established (fwb?) relationship, heavy dom anakin like degradation and aggressive actions, rough sex, unprotected sex, female anatomy/pronouns, no explicit ask for consent— things implied, unclean hands touching sensitive areas (always make sure to have clean hands), oral (male receiving): face fuck, oral (female receiving) + fingering, breath play, mentions of slave (both sexually and unsexually) but absolutely no ‘slave kink’ it’s used as a figure of speech sexually, heavily focused on dirty talk, lowkey size difference, tit smack, ass smack, squirting, mention of breeding kink, slight dacryphilia, fingering asshole

“Here,” Obi Wan handed you a ceramic cup of warm broth, “this is what we have. You said he hasn’t eaten?” There was a hint of concern in the Jedi’s voice, and you nodded.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine.” you reassured, “He’s busy, you know how it is.” The temperature from the broth spread through the material to your hands, warming them. You offered Obi Wan a small smile, hoping to ease his worry.

“Unfortunately, in this case, we depend on him.” Obi Wan replied, fists resting on his hips. “Without his help, I’m afraid we’re stranded.”

“I know,” you said softly, taking your leave. The pressure on Anakin was necessary, but you could tell it was taking a toll on him, neglecting himself in order to stay focused on his task.

When you entered the hangar of the base, you found him right where you’d left him. Underneath the vessel, consumed by his work. A loud clanging sounded, a curse in a foreign language, and your eyes followed the wrench tossed out in anger. It clattered to a halt, and you set the broth down on a drawer stack. The noise revealed your presence to him.

You saw his hand reach out and point to a tool, speaking again in words you couldn’t understand. Unable to get past what he tried to say to you, you idled. “What was that?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he muttered, sliding out from under the shuttle on the mechanic creeper to give you a sheepish look as he grabs the tool he gestured to. “Forgot.” He wagged the tool at you when he raised his hand apologetically, excusing himself back under the ship. You crossed your arms and leaned your shoulder up against the vessel, eyeing his propped up legs. You didn’t know what to mention. Ask about what he’d said, or audibly observe how cute he was shirtless, streaked in grease and shining with sweat. A curl tugged at your lips.

“No, what was that?”

You heard him sigh, resuming his activity on the underbelly. “Huttese,”

“‘Huttese’?” you parrot, the tone awkward. The word felt foreign on your tongue. You were unaware he knew it. “Where’d you learn that?”

“Tattooine. I didn’t tell you?” Another sudden noise, followed by another one of his long winded, indecipherable curses from whatever pain was inflicted on him. You could tell he was rushing himself, ignoring safety procedures in order to get this hunk of junk running again. Obi Wan was right, everyone was depending on him as the person with the most experience in ship repair. However, that didn’t leave him a lot of room for error, or for proper rest. You wanted to get his mind off of it for a while. Distract him so he could come back to this with a clearer head.

“Do you know just the swear words?”

“No. Fluent.” he spoke through gritted teeth.

You thought of a joke and scoffed to yourself. “Do you know any dirty talk?“

There was a quiet moment, save for the din of metal. “It’s a very… coarse language.” He slid out to meet your gaze, breathing hard from the heat of his work. Generously, you viewed the expanse of his chest rising and falling. “It would just sound insulting.”

Carried away with how hot he looked, you bit your lip. “Is that a bad thing?”

He flashed a downturn of his lips, blowing air through his nose, “Not necessarily.” He snatched a new tool, and returned to the underside. “Just letting you know it wouldn’t sound pretty.”

“So?”

You heard him scoff.

“You don’t wanna hear what I have to say about you in Huttese, trust me,”

For some reason, you really wanted to find out even though it was a joke at first. Absentmindedly you rubbed your thighs together at the thought of him degrading you in a filthy tongue. It was nothing new to you, Anakin has always been obscene when it came to dirty talk. How would this be any different? “How come?”

“It’s that it’s… it’s cacophonous. Double voweled. The language of barters, slave traders, sleazebags. To associate it with you- seems wrong.” You wondered if he felt that way about it because of the unfortunate circumstances of his childhood. This was going in the opposite direction you wanted it to. “It’s not beautiful. It’s barbaric. Blunt. It would sound worse directly translating it to Basic.” You listened thoughtfully as he talked, and your eyes drifted over his tool table to the drawer stack.

“Oh!”

“What?”

“I forgot to tell you, I brought you something. It’ll keep up your strength,” Carefully, you retrieved the mug as he shimmied out.

“Something for me?” He raised his brows and he sat up at the recognition you were about to hand it to him. He reached for it, brought it to his lips to sip it. It was flavorless. “Appreciate it.” He decided it was best to ration it, leaving it at his side as he settled against the shuttle, drawing his knees to his chest to rest his arms on them. They were swollen, thick, and veined. Even his metal arm that began at one of his elbows was attractive to you. Reminiscing the many times he’s used it to bring you to your knees. What was it about him that made you want to lick the sweat off him? You sat down next to him, mimicking his position. “What were we talking about?”

“Huttese,”

“Right,”

“Teach me something,” you flirted.

“Teach you something?” A hint of an amused smile ghosted his handsome features.

“Yeah, I’d like to know. Something easy.”

“Something easy…” he parroted thoughtfully, bowing his head as he contemplated. “Kark’s an easy one.” He straightened only to incline towards you.

“Kark?”

“Kark.” he nodded. There was a stark difference between how you two pronounced it.

“What’s that mean?”

“Fuck,”

“No, I mean like a sentence—!” Anakin ignored your true request, continuing on, childish grin growing.

“—You want a sentence? A sentence- Okay, kark. As in, I’d really like to kark you—“

“—Ani,” you scolded playfully, nudging his shoulder with your hand. He snickered.

“Really, it’s only an expletive, it’s not used like we use ‘fuck’.” The way he gazed at you made you feel warm. “There’s a different word for that.”

A pensive moment passed before you piped up, “So, show me something else.”

“You still want to hear dirty talk?” he asked with a knowing glint in his eye. Since you thought it might be funny, you obliged.

“Sure,”

“Let me warn you one more time, I don’t think you really wanna hear it—“

“I do! I do. Seriously, satisfy my curiosity.”

Anakin hummed. “If it’s for curiosity then…” His head bumped the shuttle as he searched the ceiling for answers, “Let me think,”

You waited, toying with the ends of your hair. You eyed the way his curls propped up against the hull where the back of his head rested. You had half a mind to reach over and brush through his locks with your fingers when he interrupted your admiration.

“Okay, I got it,” To occupy his hands, he snatched up a rag hanging from his pocket and started wiping the grease from his fingers, and you noted the length of them. “Uh,” It’d been a while for him since he’d had to piece together a sentence like this. He tossed the rag. “Naga bu eechu,” The words were stiff on his tongue as he was figuring out how to arrange it, until he relaxed, letting the next roll off his tongue more smoothly, “et kah to. Peenta kay rada.” He glanced at you to gauge your reaction, but you looked at him expecting him to continue.

“What does that mean?” you asked with wide, intrigued eyes. There was something inherently masculine about the way he spoke this language. His voice got deeper, the sharp consonants were punctuated with a twitch of his nose as if he was stifling the habit to sneer his lips.

Suddenly bashful, he raised his brows with a single nod. “Directly translated?” He was apprehensive to reveal it to you. In truth, he was planning on saying that and nothing else, leaving it to your imagination. He adjusted in his seat, lifting himself up to face you more and you did the same. Resting his chin on his hand, he ran his fingers over his jawline to fidget as he stared at the ceiling in thought.

He met your gaze, and told you the meaning like you asked for. “I want to put my full fist inside you. Split you open. And sit down to eat.” There was no romance in his tone. It was matter of factly, pressing his lips into a thin line.

You inhaled, mouth opening to say something. You furrowed your eyebrows, “You’re right. It is a little… violent.”

“It lacks a certain decorum, yes.” Anakin nodded.

“Would it be better if I spoke Huttese too?” So you could better understand what he was saying, instead of recovering the words in Basic.

“Not really, no.” As he’d said, it was harsh at every angle. It wasn’t known for being frivolous, it was known for getting a point across. It was impatient. You were getting a little impatient hearing it come from Anakin’s mouth. Especially talk so foul.

Maybe it was the fact he was bare chested, or the personification he took on when he spoke in Huttese, but you found yourself chewing your thumb, and asking for more. “What else would you say about me?” Anakin was taking another sip of his broth when he heard your question, and pivoted his surprised attention in your direction.

“You wanna know more?”

Soundlessly, you shook your head yes.

Anakin chewed his lip as he held your eye contact, having to tear away in order to keep from getting ahead of himself. Answers were already piling up in his mind, “Naga seeta pon nuda— reeta seep.” This time around, you noticed his confidence had heightened, and it only added to your intrigue. “Nudaonnud to soot. Scrit ah seepa fin teese.” That same expectant expression adorned your features, inviting him to clarify for you. He explained, “I want you sticky— slippery with fluids.” You swallowed hard. “You’d look so fuckable with my hot cum glazed on your face. Strung up in your hair and dribbling down your tits.” Biting your lips, your gaze locked with his, as if waiting for the other to make the next move. Anakin stood by his opinion of how ugly this language was, however he saw how your body betrayed you before and after he translated for you. In turn, it aroused him too. The fact you were letting him talk to you like this had his pants tightening.

“Um,” You gained your footing. A shaky breath. “What else?” you said, barely above a whisper.

The turn of events had Anakin adjusting his position, leaning back onto his hands, folding his legs in front of him. You took note of how his stance was more open to you, gaze trailed down his shoulders and scars on his chest, his abdomen and how it curled with his relax, a bulge at his crotch. As if trained, your mouth watered. To be safe, two of Anakin’s fingers raised from the flat of the floor, forcing the door you had come through earlier to be locked from his seat. When he held your gaze through his brows, adopting that intense look you liked so much, he spoke his next words in Huttese, “Pump you so full, you’ll sweat my cum,” You had no idea what he’d said, and you didn’t care at all to ask. It was the mystery of it now, and how he spat the words at you, you knew they had to be nasty.

The two of you exchanged this heated look again, your breath having quickened. Anakin was the first to break it, getting up to stand with a sigh. He offered you his hand in order to aid you in standing too, however you had other plans. “I should get back to work,” he said, a hint of disappointment in his tone. You moistened your lips, a fire igniting in the pit of your stomach, pooling in between your legs when you fixed yourself on your knees. A questioning expression flashed on Anakin’s features, promptly answered when you pushed his hand out of the way, undoing the waistband of his pants to tug just his length free. In an instant, you’d guided him to your mouth, letting it harden fully in the warmth inside. “(y/n)—! (y/n)…” You knew if he wanted this to stop, he’d say it or he’d push you off. Instead, he was rolling his hips into your mouth, throwing his head back. His metal hand you’d discarded moved to cradle the back of your head. He knew it’d pay off to lock the doors.

A sinful sound reverberated from low in his throat, which only served to further arouse you, wet with anticipation. It allowed you to take him farther in, and he flexed his arm, bringing you to meet his thrusts. A steady pace was set, until you started dragging your tongue along the underside of his shaft. His voice was so addicting, his moan made your eyes roll into the back of your head. You braced yourself with your hands on his thighs.

“Filthy little mouth-pussy, made for me.” he purred in Huttese, “Wonder how many other guys would kill for a whore like you slobbering all over their cock like this.” You keened, even though you couldn’t understand it. When his cock twitched, you could tell he liked that you didn’t know what he was saying.

It gave him permission to say anything he wanted to you.

Your jaw went slack, throat relaxed enough to take him, but he desired more from you. By asking to learn about this side of him you had, unknowingly, unlocked something buried in him. His deep rooted hatred for where he came from, was now being worked out with the splendid efforts of your mouth. Rewriting bad memories into an entirely new one. Huttese was vile in his experience, and you welcomed it instead of shying away. However, this side of him was more volatile. The pain that he repressed manifested itself into aggression, and you were more than happy to receive every last drop.

His hand at the back of your head tangled in your hair with a pleasant sting, and when you emitted a noise in surprise, it was strained by his cock shoving deeper inside you. Wide, doe eyes gazed up at him, granting him passage, letting him take the complete lead using you. You hollowed out your cheeks when you could, swirling around him with your tongue when you couldn’t. He whined, and he saw you stifle a smirk. “Choke, whore. Choke,” he cooed at you in the language, increasing his thrusts until you squeezed your eyes shut, gagging on his length, dizzy with excitement. He sensed you liked this, and it thrilled him to no end. His free hand moved from being limp behind him, coming up to pat the back of your head twice forcing himself in minutely. You gagged because of it, and you pushed off of him in order to turn your head to the side, afraid you were about to hurl, drooling on the floor as you hung your head.

You coughed, and he kicked the mechanic creeper out of his way with a clatter. Once able, he dragged you over by his fistful of your hair. The pain, combined with the strength it required for him to move you over made you whimper, faithfully following him keeping your knees underneath you. He pinned your head to the hull of the ship he’d been working on, his flesh hand over your forehead, as his metal cupped the underside of your jaw, diving his cock back in between your lips. You gasped, strangled by his substantial girth bullying its way into you. You couldn’t bob your head anymore, and he fucked your throat exactly how he deemed fit for a slut like you. “You wanted this so bad. Now here it is, and you’re afraid of it. Go on, make me proud.” That wolfish grin on his face was so fucking hot, his scar along his eye, gaze trained on you as you were forced to swallow his every inch. It didn’t matter you couldn’t speak Huttese, you loved hearing him talk to you in it. Helpless to his desires, you held your breath everytime he bottomed out, so big you knew your throat would be sore in the morning. Nearing his finish, he had half a mind to paint your face with his cum like he’d promised earlier. Instead, he got a better idea. When you instinctively tried to back up, halted in your tracks by the hull against your head, he reassured you, his flesh hand stroking over your hair soothingly, “A little longer, I’m almost there,”

You recognized his tone to be surprisingly tender compared to how he’d been acting up to this point. Like he was begging you to keep playing this game with him. You obliged, having found him captivating as this authoritative figure. To be privy to the darker side of Anakin Skywalker was a privilege, and to be on the receiving end was simply an opportunity you’d never pass up.

Hips stuttering, and a long string of Huttese curses, you knew he was close. You felt hot spurts of cum on your tongue as he slowed to a halt, and when he pulled out, strings of it connected you to his cock. “Oh, mwa con schutta,” he cooed with fake sympathy, puckering his lips in a pout. Oh, my poor slut, he’d said. His finish was pooled in your panting open mouth, and your defiant gaze told him you were about to spit it to spite him for his behavior. You broke eye contact, moving to get rid of his milky load. In an instant, he arrested you. His hands came to cup over your mouth and pinch your nose. Unable to breathe and at his mercy, your futile attempts to free yourself went ignored. He laughed as you clawed at his fingers, knowing if you needed an out you’d tap him twice. You were being difficult on purpose, because you liked it.

You knew what he wanted from you, and his visceral wicked expression only confirmed your thoughts. You were strained, you’d never win fighting against his grip but you tried anyway. At your limit, you gulped, swallowing him. Released, you gasped for air. “You mad at me?” he asked grinning wolfishly down at you, but since you didn’t know Huttese, you simply glared at him, a curl at the corner of your lips betraying how turned on you really were from his actions.

He fisted your shirt in his hand, bringing you to stand so he could direct you— more like drag you over to his tool table, and yanked your clothes off. “I want to see those fat tits,” he demanded in Huttese. You moaned from his sneer, aching for him to reintroduce himself to your dripping sex.

The surface of the table was in disarray, littered with stray items like the ship’s original blueprints and apparatus. In one fell swoop, his metal arm swept the contents to the floor, “What are you—?” Without answering you, he circled you over, holding your waist to pick you up onto the table. Once again his show of strength jellied your legs, and you could anticipate what he was about to do to you.

Now tucked against your pussy, he pinned your back to the table with his metal palm gripping your breast tightly, and you keened when he pinched your nipple. You could see the marks of oil where his touch had been, decorating your waist. He admired you like this, streaked in grease like he was. Metal hand moved to hook your leg over his shoulder, the hand he’d wiped with his rag started circling your entrance soothingly, dulling that ache. “Dire schutta,” There was that word again. Picking your head up in order to meet his heated gaze, darkened by lust, you questioned breathlessly.

“What’s that mean?” Your broken voice indicated how desperate you were for him.

“Dirty slut,” he replied in Basic without skipping a beat, pressing an open mouthed kiss against the side of your knee, bowing his head to do the same to your thigh. “Letting me get you all filthy, filthy like I am.” his soft lips spoke against your flesh, pleased to reaffirm in his twisted mind that you and him were the same. You reached out to touch him— the words being so tame compared to all the shit he’s been talking to you in his native tongue, unbeknownst to you— but you were instantly weakened when his fingers entered you. So sensitive, your back arched off the surface, head falling back, and a crooked grin adorned his features, staring at your every shift through his brows as he curled his thick digits inside of you. He knew that you didn’t want to waste time, and he stroked the plush of your thigh with his metal hand to caress you as you cried out for him. The tips of his fingers petting that sweet spot inside of you that had you writhing.

“Anakin!”

He bit your thigh hard at the sound of his name sinfully spilling from your perfect lips. You yelped and looked at him. Your pleading countenance only served to fan the flame in his chest, cock hardening to stand at attention again, ready and waiting to return to where it belonged. He wished to abuse you, in every way you could desire. When he pulled his fingers from you, he answered your questioning expression, “Oh, I’m not anywhere near done with you, schutta,” The name made you whimper now that you knew what he meant by it. Adjusting you as if you were light as a feather, he shouldered your other leg, and wrapped his arms around in order to rub at your clit with one of his hands. Strangling the soft skin of your thighs between his massive biceps, he dipped his head down to start lapping at your wet sex with his hot tongue, devouring all you’ve produced.

You cursed, the pad of his thumb gently circling your pink bud, swelling it with stimulation as his tongue continued to work on you, alternating between flattening against you and diving into your hole. Finally, putting that disgusting mouth to good use after all he’s spat at you. He seemed to sense that thought, digging himself further into you, making out with your weeping cunt as his nose started to brush your clit. You wished you could think of something to say to him on your own, taunt him with malicious talk as he’s done to you, but if this man had one gift, it was how he got you speechless when he ate you out. To egg him on, your hands played with your chest for him, giving him a show as you squeezed and pinched. As if entertaining a god, he hummed in approval, watching from over your mound. You rolled your nipples in your nimble fingers until they were red with sting. His hand came from curling around your thigh to your chest, and you offered one to him by releasing it from your hold. Experimentally, he slapped the flesh, and it bobbed from the strike.

Nobody’s ever smacked your tit before.

Pleasantly surprised, he told you, “That got you so wet,” knowing you couldn’t understand him as he smiled against you. There was no part of you that could deny you wanted him to talk to you in that vile language forever simply because of this personality shift he took on speaking it. Electricity shot through you. His lips placed open mouthed kisses over your spread folds before sucking your bud into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. You cried out, legs shaking involuntarily, and when he added his fingers to your hole, filling it to the brim and nearly sending you over the edge. Immediately, he sought out the button inside of you that had you writhing underneath him. You and him both knew what this led to, and on instinct your hand came to his wrist to brace yourself. In response, he released your clit with a pop, straightened, and spat on your pussy to lubricate it as he fucked you with his fingers. Everything inside you was crying out as you screamed, unable to keep your eyes open, features twisted in pleasure from how he never faltered hitting that spongy spot. He didn’t need to be force sensitive to tell where you were headed, he’s done this to you before.

“Ani— I’m gonna— Oh… oh,”

He exhaled, falling victim to you on the brink of making a terrible mess. His thumb returned to circle your clit. “Yes, yes, let me see you squirt, baby,” In this moment more than any other he wished you could understand his Huttese. However, you didn’t need to in order to do as exactly as he demanded. You released in bursts, and he kept up his pace, watching you squirt all over his arm and chest. “Oh, fuck yes, schutta, fuck yes,” You practically cried as took all you could provide, “Give it all to me,” Why did Huttese have to bring out such a cruel side of him? Why was it working so well on you?

He was no longer glistening with sweat, but a mix of your fluids as well. Slowing to a stop as you went slack from your intense finish, he didn’t hesitate to suck off whatever you left on his fingers. You had drenched yourself, the table underneath you, and by the looks of it his cock and pants too. “Fucking love it when you do that. Maker, I can’t get over the smell of it.” You whimpered even though his words were indecipherable. To emphasize just how much of a mess you made, he drew his soaked hand across your thighs and up your abdomen, and you shivered. His parted lips were downright sinful, plump and begging to be nibbled on by your teeth. Your gazes met, hazy with desire as he fisted his cock, nudging it lazily against your overstimulated entrance.

“Please,” you whined for him to keep fucking you, and he scoffed. There was no please in the Huttese language.

“Nothing but a hole,”

Anakin Skywalker was a very large man, in every sense of the word. By the way he acted, you’d think he forgot that he takes up the most space in a room. Taller than many, broad shouldered, angular muscles cut from the diamond of battle. The Great General Skywalker reminded you how big he really was every time he lead his troops, engaged in hand to hand combat with literal droids, and fucked you. Not necessarily in that order.

He brutalized you. Your struggling cunt could barely swallow all of him. It was no secret the General had a bruising cock, but you were not one to back down from the challenge. “Fuck, Ani, fuck,”

Sinking into you over and over again as he lifted your legs for you with his palm fixed on the underside of your thighs. He could feel the tremors passing through them. While you begged, he merely watched your pussy consume his every inch. “Quiet. Let me enjoy this,” Anakin revelled in his ability to say whatever he wanted to you without fear, feeling you suck him in with every foul word like the greedy bitch you were. When he’d had enough, he pushed your thighs up against the sides of your chest, pressing your flesh together in the most beautiful way as he fucked into you, increasing his thrusts. You scrambled for purchase on the table but there was none as his purple tip kissed your cervix repeatedly. The mating press was by far one of his favorite positions to put you in, one of the reasons being because of the implication of its name. It was a common fantasy for Anakin to revisit how much he wanted to fill you up with his seed until an heir to the Skywalker name was sired. However, he’d much rather you be able to hear that kind of talk. That’ll be for next time.

Finally, your fingers found the edge of the table to grip, still slick with your squirt as he loomed over you, bouncing you from every roll of his hips. You delighted in the way his abdomen curled into you. “Harder, fuck me harder,” you told him, having adjusted to his substantial size. “Keep talking to me,”

Anakin exhaled the breath he was holding, “I should ravage your insides for speaking to me like that,” You keened at him for listening to you, and he did as you’d requested, desperate to see you weep for mercy. “Schutta,” Your voice grew in volume, unintelligible noises spilling from your open mouth as he fucked you, the tool table creaking underneath your combined weights. “Schutta,” he whispered again, focusing entirely on how you were reacting to everything he was doing. “Not even good enough to be my fuck toy,” Oh, that one he longed for you to understand, knowing how you’d double over from the shock of pleasure that would course through you from the degradation. “Lucky I’m feeling generous today.” He groaned as he reangled his hips, making you scream. Unfortunately, a little slut like you couldn’t understand his native tongue, and to silence you he shoved the L-shape of his flesh hand into your mouth. You bit down on the webbing, grateful to focus on something else.

Your wet heat was squeezing him so good, the momentary feeling caused a lapse in judgement, speaking without thinking it through, without correlating what it meant to him. “I’m slave to you, I’m slave to this hole squeezing me so perfectly, so cozy, so good, eager to please me, eager to serve.” Even if anything he’d been saying was in Basic, you were too far gone to hear it.

A devious idea formed in his head, and his metal hand came over to your belly, pressing down so not only was that new angle rearranging your insides, but that spot was met by his thrusts quicker. “Wait, if you do that again, I can’t help it—“ you had begun to warn speaking over his hand, your small fingers splaying against his hot chest as he merely grinned down at you with sick delight, curls falling in front of his eyes.

“If you don’t squirt all over my cock, so help me Maker—“ It’s as if your body responded naturally to him, once again spraying it’s surroundings with the full force of your release, running down the front of his pants and leaking to the floor from where your bodies conjoined. He laughed at you. Becoming shy, you turned your reddening face away from him. “What are you getting shy for, whore? All you’re good for’s a decent fuck. Way to make it worthwhile.” Your velvety walls fluttered around him because you could tell whatever he’d said was horrible. His hand moved out of your mouth when it pinched your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. There they were, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Had to be from your release, otherwise you’d be telling him to stop. He dipped down, poking out his tongue to collect the salty tear on the tip. The act caused you to connect your lips with his, and he mumbled in surprise, swallowing your moans when he parted your lips with his, exploring you with his tongue. His metal hand slipped out from in between the two of you, swiftly smacking the fat of your ass cheek as he kept moving inside of you. You yelped against his mouth. When he broke the kiss, a string of saliva attached the two of you, panting in unison as he felt you quiver underneath him. Perhaps it was time to put your poor legs to work.

Your back having arched, made the perfect space to slot his arm in, wrapping around your waist while his other repositioned your legs off his shoulders, but kept a knee pinned to his hip. He unsheathed, and your poor pussy instantly felt empty as he picked you up off the table and setting you down, spinning you around and planting your hands flat on the table so your heart shaped ass was presented to him. “I’ll never get tired of this,” he confessed in awe, stooping to drag the flat of his hand over your sex, making you jump from the sensitivity. Once he gathered enough slick to lubricate his cock with, he reentered you, and the shock of it caused you to fall forward, eyes rolling into the back of your head. It pleased him greatly. He sucked on his damp fingers as he pistoned in you. The coil in your belly was wound tight, and he was well aware of it.

His hips snapped against the soft flesh off your ass and his metal hand tangled into your hair, using it like a leash to yank you back onto his cock faster. It made you arch, curses falling from your lips in a cant along with his name. Satisfied his fingers were properly lubricated, they traveled from his mouth to your rim, circling it curiously. You shied away from the feeling at first, but relaxed into it once you realized what was going on. That’s my girl, he thought. Carefully, he dipped his fingers inside, plunging into your asshole as he fucked your pussy with his cock. It added a new height of pleasure to you, and you clenched your silky walls around him instinctually. He explored the inside of you with his digits, before moving them in and out. He heard your breath hitch, “You feel about ready to make a mess all over me again. I don’t care what hole it comes out of, you’ll clean me up.”

“Can I… fuck- Can I please cum? Baby, please,” you strained, a lump in your throat.

“What are you asking me for? You afraid of what I’ll do to you if you don’t obey me?” he teased, a sinister undertone to his voice that made you struggle to nod your head. “Go ahead then, if you’re so close.” he spoke to you like it didn’t matter, knowing it only added to your enjoyment. Your orgasm shooting through you without a second to waste. You called out his name, squeezing your eyes shut when your vision turned white. You rode it out with him, thinking he might release with you like you two usually do with his help of the force. Not this time it seemed.

“Aren’t you gonna cum too? C’mon, Anakin,” you whined, wiggling your hips as best you can for him. He leaned over you, bicep flexing with his hand still in your hair.

“Do you really deserve my cum?” You couldn’t find him anything but attractive like this, bullying you while he ravaged your insides. “I should cum in a rag and gag you with it instead of letting you feel me finish inside this tight cunt.” You moaned involuntarily, his movements more erratic as he neared his edge. After this you were going to learn Huttese if it was the last thing you did.

Moans burst out of him as he spilled himself inside of you, bending you over further when his muscle tensed, shoving your cheek against the cold surface of the table still wet from your squirt. He fucked his seed into you as he worked himself through his own orgasm, using your abused pussy to do it.

Only once he’d stilled, did you move. He took the hint, removing himself from you, and you felt your combined essences drip down your legs. Exhausted, he lazily kissed up your back for a start to his apologies. “Let me grab something for you,” You leaned against the table, waiting for him to return with a clean rag. As he wiped you down, you chuckled breathlessly.

“What?” he asked, amused at your reaction.

“You wanna tell me some of the things you said to me?” You stared him down with a raised brow, intent to learn whatever depraved things this deranged man had said to you to get himself off.

He stifled a smile, hanging his head in shame briefly. “Maybe some other time.”

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js-favnanadoongi

5 months ago

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WEARING!?”

Halloween was such a freeing holiday.

getting to dress-up as anyone or thing that tickled your fancy, as long as it was funny and recognizable.

it's refreshing to see others also partake in the festivities with the exchanging treats and the abundance of tricks played on unsuspecting victims.

not to mention the absolute kick you’re getting as Katsuki seethes at what you'd chosen to wear.

“My costume!” You grin widely with pride, puffing your chest out and putting your hands on your hips.

sure, he’s seen plenty of dynamights roaming the streets as he went about patrol, yelling kiddy swears and mimicking his move sets to the best of their abilities.

it's a whole different ball game when his partner decides to dress up as him; the fact that it was identical to the one he wore back during his UA days makes it worse.

“Midoriya helped with the finer details,” you casually named drop your accomplice, gave an uncharacteristic twirl, and let Katsuki bask and relive his glory days, “what do you think?”

“It fucking sucks.” Is all he manages to get past his tightly gritted teeth.

as he makes an expanding list of ways he plans on getting his revenge, you change your pose to one you'd seen him do a dozen times.

“I’m sorry, but I’m pretty sure I absolutely nailed the ‘Lord Explosion Murder’ era perfectly.” the chunky styrofoam gauntlets were a bit of a hassle to haul around and you weren't even going to mention how heavy the mask/headpiece was.

“Don’t fuckin’ stand like that!” He’s pointing now, bright-red eyes narrowing at the protruding curve in your spine as you dramatically slouched into yourself.

"please, you stood exactly like this. I have the pictures!"

Katsuki's growling now, chest heaving with each angry breath he took, "you and that shitty nerd are so gonna get it."

“What’s crawled up yer ass, ya damn extra?” you try to closely match the gravelly, rough draw of his voice, which stokes the fire from deep within him even more.

the embarrassment hits him at full-force when your lips curl into an intimidating snarl, thinned-out brows making nearly perfect ‘v’ shapes as you do your best ‘dynamight’ glare, “cut it the fuck out!”

that's when he sees it.

a mischievous glint you get in your eyes when you'd come up with something you knew he'd absolutely hate.

tension only seems to thicken as you open your mouth and attempt to speak.

you’d barely rasped your first ‘oi!’ before he’s finally had enough and charges at full-speed.

costumed kids and adults alike looked on in confused horror as two Dynamights went barreling past them, one letting out boisterous fits of laughter and the other looking like he was seconds away from tearing his doppelgänger’s head right off.

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js-favnanadoongi

10 months ago

“i can fix him”

ok welcome to the construction crew

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