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Chapter Text

Something so bright in the Force stole all his attention. It felt like a shatterpoint, though he had no practice in detecting shatterpoints. Cracks and lines spread out in front of his face, directing him to where he needed to look. The Force wanted him to look and as loathe as he was to listen to it, Vader turned.

In this dungy, grimy awful bar in the lower levels of Coruscant, walked a luminous being. A delicate man with fine features and shiny auburn hair hanging in his face. He was radiant to look at, but Vader was a moth drawn to the light.

The young man didn’t belong here, anyone could see that.

Vader wanted him.

The newcomer was nearly swimming in his beige robes and Vader had the incessant need to feel how small the man was in his arms. The boy drew so many predatory eyes all while seeming oblivious to the looks.

Vader was, of course, one of those predatory stares. But Vader was the highest thing on the food chain here; he had first dibs. The bewitching creature made it to the bar unscathed, the Force shimmering about him, calling to Vader. He couldn’t wait any longer.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Vader asked, impersonating his old self. Anakin Skywalker was kind, at least kinder than Vader ever has been, he had a vicious look but his voice was soft and inviting. The darling man looked at him with wide eyes and Vader saw a padawan braid tucked up into his hair, trying to hide it from the world. The krayt dragon in his heart snarled at the sight. Vader wanted to wrap his hand around it and yank.

“Oh, um, sure. Thank you,” the young man said. In the dim lighting of the bar, he couldn’t see the blush that spread over his cheeks or the exact color of his eyes. Vader gestured vaguely at the bartender, but he’d been here enough that the bartender knew what it meant. He reached out while they waited for their drinks, both physically and in the Force, tucking a strand of soft hair behind the man’s ear.

“I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi,” the little Jedi said breathlessly, giving his name so easily. Vader smiled sweetly.

“Anakin,” Vader replied. Their drinks were placed at his elbows and Vader, in a show of complete and overwhelming possession, took the Jedi’s drink, and raised it to plump, pretty lips. “Drink.”

It was a show to the rest of this filthy bar that the Jedi was his. He wanted to feed the sweet thing; he wanted to own the darling. The Force around the Jedi flared, and Vader found himself squinting. Slowly, like the young man was wondering if this was a joke, he leaned forward. Vader tipped the glass a bit so the alcohol could stain those perfect lips.

“Like a nebula,” Vader said without explanation, a victorious smile on his face.

Obi-Wan was exhausted. He felt like a heavy weight was placed on his chest. His skin ached and the Force wept around him. It tried to soothe him, but he wasn’t strong enough or good enough to use it properly. It’s why he was always passed around the Temple.

After Master Qui-Gon died, no one wanted him; no one had time for him. He was the padawan that let his Master get killed; he was the padawan that couldn’t avenge his Master. It didn’t matter that they didn’t understand that he would have had to touch the dark side to finish off Maul. No one praised him for being strong against that. Instead, they glanced at him sidelong and whispered about him when he thought he couldn’t hear. Weak. So weak, in fact, that he’d been taken.

It was so dark in this room. Not pitched black, there were shadows darker than the black around him, but not bright enough to really see anything. This is what he deserved, being kidnapped by a Sith.

The man had been so endearing, so kind, and Obi-Wan fell for it so easily. Who had shown him any affection like that before? He went to the bar to try to pretend to be normal just for an hour, without the guilt and sense of duty that was always expected of him, and the most beautiful man he’d ever seen had spoken to him.

Anakin, beautiful, soft spoken, Anakin. All smiles, white teeth and sweet crinkles around his eyes like he spent his life laughing. He’d bought him a drink or two or three and Obi-Wan sighed dreamily at the older man. As if on cue, Anakin had leaned down and brushed his lips across his cheek and to his ear, nibbling on the lobe. Obi-Wan’s entire being, body and soul, was set aflame and he’d easily agreed to anything.

Anything to get more of that touch.

Anakin had given him just enough to ensnare him, then ripped it all away.

Obi-Wan lay on the hard ground, staring dully into a corner that he’d convinced himself was just slightly brighter than the rest of the room.

“My little nebula,” Anakin whispered before locking him away. “I’ll come back for you.”

But he hadn’t. No one ever came back. “My little nebula” echoed in his mind for eternity.

Obi-Wan wanted to cry, and he almost did, after what felt like years in that room alone.

The door unlocked, the sound too loud to his ears, and light poured in the room, burning his eyes. Obi-Wan squeezed them shut, covering his face with his hands. It hurt, it hurt so bad, and it caused him to hunch in on himself, curling up on the ground and trying to get away.

“Oh, my sweet Jedi,” a voice said, one he remembered with such vivid clarity. Obi-Wan tried to blink his eyes open to see; to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, but the light hurt his retinas too much.

“Anakin?” he asked in a whisper, his voice hoarse from misuse.

“Yes, sweetheart,” footsteps echoed loudly in his ears, making it feel like his head was going to explode. “It’s me. I’m here for you.”

Obi-Wan’s face felt tight with too much emotion, trying to sit up from his fetal position on the ground.

“Have you come to take me away?” Obi-Wan didn’t mean to sound so desperate, but he was. Anakin took several steps toward him and Obi-Wan was suddenly ashamed of his dirtiness. He wanted to hide away, to go into that corner he thought was brighter than the rest and melt into the floor.

“I’ve come to take you home,” Anakin said softly, as if sensing Obi-Wan’s thoughts. A big gloved hand was held out, Obi-Wan’s eyes making out the black leather against the bright light behind Anakin. There was something pushing at his mind. It was gentle at first, a caress against his meager shields. It felt deadly and dark, but nothing could be darker than this room.

“Thank you.” Obi-Wan reached up to place his hand in Anakin’s. His pale hand looked so small in Anakin’s and the touch of leather against his skin set it on fire. He yanked his hand back quickly, holding it against his chest. Anakin’s eyes became sharp, his smile like a knife.

The caress turned more insistent. A black claw raking down defenses agonizingly slow.

“N-no,” his voice was little more than a breath as his mind whirled. “I can get up on my own.”

“You’ll learn that it is unwise to tell me no,” Anakin advised. Then both his hands were coming towards Obi-Wan and wrapping around him. Obi-Wan wanted to pull back, to scream, but it was all too much. His mind cracked a little under the pressure. He’d craved the touch when there was none, but now it hurt.

“Anakin, please—” Obi-Wan felt reckless in his sudden need to be alone. His palms met Anakin’s chest weakly, the Force a soft thing behind his hands. Anakin didn’t budge. No, if anything, he became more aggressive. Those hands wrapped around him entirely, holding him in an embrace that he wanted for so long but now couldn’t stand.

Lips brushed against his neck, goosebumps breaking out and a sharp sting shooting down his spine. Anakin leaned closer to whisper words that would damn him.

“Anakin is dead. You’ll call me Darth Vader.”

Vader dragged his dirty Jedi out of the room and directly up to where he lived. They were in his cantina on Tatooine, converted into something sinister behind closed doors. There was a lower level, where Vader conducted all his illicit business, including lock up pretty little Jedi. The ground floor was what everyone saw: an upscale bar in a shitty part of town, and then the top floor was where he lived. Three levels all belonging to him in a town that had tried to raise him as a slave.

It’d been torture, knowing his plaything was just a couple stories below him all these months, waiting to be saved. It was exactly as he expected, the poor thing trembling in his arms, big tears streaming down his face. Vader always liked tears, but these were the most lovely tears he’d ever seen. Blue eyes framed with red as the young man tried his best to stifle the sound threatening to escape his lips. Soon he’d learn that Vader wanted to hear his cries; his whimpering.

Vader took him up the three stories, the Jedi cradled in his arms. He didn’t bother telling him that he should enjoy this while it lasted; that Vader wasn’t always so nice. Especially not when a pretty thing like him had caught his attention and became an obsession.

Instead, Vader took him straight to his refresher. The bright light made the young man squint, but Vader wanted to see everything he was touching. Placing his new pet on his feet on the ground, he ran a bath, fresh water filling the basin of the large tub. If the Jedi knew where he was, he knew that water was a sacred thing, and that Vader was sacrificing something so precious to the planet to bathe his pet.

“Undress,” Vader commanded gently. Still, the man jumped at the sound. Blue eyes tried to meet his, but the Force folded in on itself with the man’s indecision.

“With—with you here?” His voice was so hoarse. If Vader was as better man, he might offer him water. As it was, he only nodded once.

“Someone needs to take care of you,” Vader murmured, turning the water off when the tub was full of hot water. “That’s me now.” The Jedi’s face did something too complicated for him to parse, but he knew the young man didn’t like that.

“Why?” Still, his pet didn’t move. His pet didn’t quite understand the situation he was in yet.

“You’re mine,” Vader replied simply. “Now, undress or I will do it for you.”

Big blue eyes blinked rapidly but he seemed to decide it was better if he undressed himself. Shaking hands began pawing at his soiled robes, discarding layer by layer, until he was standing there naked and shivering.

“Please, can you turn out the light?” His pet whispered, sniffling.

“No.”

More tears fell at the denial but they only encouraged Vader. He motioned for the pitiful thing to get in the tub and somehow that made him look the most terrified that he had all day so far. Very slowly the boy moved closer to the water, looking at the way the steam floated from the surface. Vader knew it would be too hot but he had a lot of fucking work to do to clean his pet.

Another sniffle and then the boy was climbing into the water, a whimper being torn from him as he forced himself to sit, knees against his chest and arms wrapping tight around them. The Force around him bled with his misery.

“That’s my good boy,” Vader praised, earning a blush from the little Jedi.

“Am I?” The question was broken, barely audible, unbelieving and hopeless.

“Yes,” Vader replied sternly. “And you’ll always be my good boy.”

Blue eyes sought out gold. They blinked slowly, an acceptance of his new life, a concession and a confession all wrapped up in one look. Vader smirked, all teeth and smugness.

2 Months Captivity + 1 Month

Chapter Text

Vader was so volatile. His emotions were wild and Obi-Wan still had a hard time figuring it out. He couldn’t predict what would set him off. He’d always been taught that the Sith were controlled by their emotions, and Vader only proved that teaching correct at every turn.

Obi-Wan was sitting on the ground in Vader’s lounge perfectly in the center of a strip of sunlight filtering in through a large window. The warmth of it was soothing. Obi-Wan fell into an easy meditation, the two suns lulling him into a false sense of security.

The oppressive aggression of Vader’s signature pressed up against his edges, but even that he accepted. Black waves that were purely the Sith lapped at his feet. Obi-Wan stretched out his senses, touching everything along the way. Light fingertips ghosted along every surface he passed by, searching for what he wasn’t sure of yet.

His senses bumped up against something on the ground floor; an impenetrable fortress of black swirling smoke. Obi-Wan immediately tagged it as Vader. He should have moved on, but Vader seemed distracted and Obi-Wan was so curious about the man. It felt almost like he was in a dream as he traced his fingertips up from ankle to calf to hamstrings. Who was this man that wanted him so much? What made him want someone who the Jedi didn’t even want?

The Force trailed fingertips even further up, around each hip and up his abdomen. Obi-Wan wondered if the man was soft anywhere; every time they were together he was all lean muscle and hard stares.

Obi-Wan wasn’t good at anything except meditation and reading. They should have sent him to the agricorps when Qui-Gon died, but instead they decided to pass him around from Master to Master to see if one would take. How was it that someone so vicious and powerful like Anakin, saw anything at all in someone like him?

Suddenly Obi-Wan couldn’t feel that impenetrable wall anymore.

There was a harsh tug at his padawan braid and his eyes flew open as he gasped.

“You think too loudly, little Jedi,” Vader snapped. Obi-Wan tried to pull away instinctively but couldn’t go far as his braid was firmly trapped in Vader’s hand. “I could hear you thinking about all your Masters. They passed you around like a common schutta and you let them.”

“No!” Obi-Wan weakly defended himself from the words. It had felt like that, but what else could he do but allow them to?

“You drive me insane. You don’t know how precious you are,” Vader said it like an insult, but it gave Obi-Wan pause. “They missed on the opportunity to mold you into the perfect vessel of the Force, but now you’re in my hands and I will not pass this up.”

Obi-Wan hadn’t noticed Vader’s other hand, too caught up in the gold of his eyes and the weight behind his words. The smell of ozone filled the room, the hum of a lightsaber igniting filled him with fear. The red of his lightsaber nearly blinded him. Obi-Wan stared at it. It was full of so much righteous fury.

“What hurt you so badly?” Obi-Wan whispered “To bleed your ‘saber?”

Vader snarled, lips pulled back from his teeth, looking feral.

“Everyone,” Vader hissed and with a flick of his wrist, his padawan braid was severed. Obi-Wan flinched back causing the lightsaber to just miss his face.

“Why?” He asked, eyes wide.

“You are no longer a padawan, now, are you?” Vader answered with a question. The auburn braid was between his index finger and thumb, rubbing it. Obi-Wan mulled it over, because that was correct, wasn’t it? He was not inclined to go back to the Temple, and even if he tried, he doubted Vader would let him escape. This was Obi-Wan’s home with Vader. He was safe here. Or, as safe as he could be locked up in a Sith’s strange palace. He realized he hadn’t ever even tried to escape yet.

“I- I’m not,” Obi-Wan nodded, ultimately wanting to please Vader. A smile spread over Vader’s face, his sickly-sweet Force signature wrapping around Obi-Wan.

“I want something else from you today,” Vader murmured, seemingly placated for now. What else could the Sith want? Obi-Wan had nothing left to give him. He looked up at Vader in silence, a cautious curiosity blooming in the Force around him. He couldn’t help it, even with his life’s work ended by the swing of a lightsaber, he wanted to know what someone like Vader could possibly want from him. Gold eyes rolled back a little and closed, pleasured by Obi-Wan’s interest.

“I want you,” Vader purred, voice low and rumbling. Obi-Wan stared, almost uncomprehending. Nobody wanted him. “You don’t get it yet, do you?”

Obi-Wan was being manhandled then, being tugged to his feet and pushed across the room until his front hit a wall. Vader was pressed flush against his back. Obi-Wan’s face flushed as he understood when something hard pressed against him. Vader flung his lightsaber hilt to the ground and blue eyes tracked the movement.

He could—he could call it to him. He could try at least and it would be better, right? It would look better if he fought it? Desire pooled in his gut as large hands wrapped around his hips. Obi-Wan knew he’d wanted this, but Vader was his captor, he shouldn’t want it. Every night, Vader wrapped himself around Obi-Wan, and every night he never crossed that threshold. It felt natural that he’d want this.

“Has anyone touched you?” Vader asked, interrupting Obi-Wan’s racing thoughts. His hands were pushing down Obi-Wan’s leggings and his face somehow turned hotter. This was how their first time was going to be? Pushed up against a wall while Vader was angry at him still? He guessed it seemed fitting.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan answered truthfully, a little breathlessly as leather gloved hands caressed the bare globes of his ass almost reverently. The hands stopped.

“Tell me who,” Vader demanded, anger in his tone. Obi-Wan thought that was silly though, because what was he going to do? Hunt them all down? With a jolt, he realized that Vader probably would.

“Plenty of people,” Obi-Wan replied vaguely instead. Vader made an unhappy hissing sound from somewhere behind him and then the hot body that was pressed against him was gone, leaving him with his pants down and feeling bereft. He looked over his shoulder, but Vader was still there staring at him.

“Step back, hands on the wall,” Vader said, very obviously admiring the view, very obviously still annoyed. It was embarrassing how this made him hard. Obi-Wan still did what he said, body moving on its own. “Another step. Arch your back.”

He couldn’t look anymore because Vader was making him present himself. Obi-Wan pressed his forehead against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut. His leggings were around his ankles, his tunic rucked up but not off, and Vader was fully dressed, just looking. A foot tapped the inside of his ankle.

“As far apart as they can go.”

Obi-Wan spread his legs as much as the leggings allowed him to. He heard a “perfect” from behind him and even that was humiliating. He didn’t have a lot of time to mull over his decisions that led him here, bent over and exposed to a man because a slick, wet finger was at his entrance and he gasped.

Vader hummed in what sounded like appreciation, but he didn’t say anything. He pushed, almost methodical in his workings as he stretched and prepped Obi-Wan. It was almost a relief that Vader wasn’t going to just take him like an animal. Almost. It might have been easier for him to pretend like he wasn’t going to enjoy this if Vader had been meaner.

“You know what I like about you, my darling little nebula?” Vader asked, three fingers deep and making Obi-Wan whine. He could hardly form a coherent thought; speaking seemed beyond him. Vader twisted his fingers and curled them, making Obi-Wan throw his head back and moan as pleasure zinged through his entire body. Then Vader kept his fingers there, rubbing against that bundle of nerves. “Answer me.”

“W-wha?” Obi-Wan croaked. It was the best he could do with his brain turned to mush and trying to melt out of his ears.

“Good boy,” Vader whispered, voice deep and unfairly smooth while Obi-Wan tried to draw in ragged gasps. The air ripped at his raw throat. “We were destined, you and me. You were given to me by the Force and I’ve taken it’s gift with arms wide open. You were made for me.” He pulled his fingers out and then thrust back in, in an overtly hard plunge. Obi-Wan’s fingers scraped at the duracrete, mind reeling. Vader’s words hardly made any sense to him.

“Please, just—” just what? Stop talking? Stop saying nonsense? Just get on with it? Vader seemed to understand because his fingers were gone, leaving Obi-Wan empty and clenching on nothing. The sound of clothes rustling came from behind him and there was something big at his hole. But nothing happened. The head of Vader’s cock rested there, waiting. What was he waiting for?

“Ask me for it,” Vader answered his silent question. “Tell me you want it.”

Humiliation rose up in him like a tidal wave, because he did want it. Desperately. He wanted to be whole, complete, and he wanted it with this monstrous man. Obi-Wan was devastated to have to admit it. Vader, a man known for having little to know patience, seemed to have an abundance of it while waiting for Obi-Wan to break even more.

He could hear Vader stroking himself, pushing the tiniest bit against his entrance before relaxing and continuing to rest there. Obi-Wan was breathing hard, his own cock neglected and leaking. He’d been told to keep his hands on the wall but if he could just get a little friction on himself he could last against Vader’s teasing.

Obi-Wan wouldn’t have to admit to it. To wanting Vader. Anakin.

But then a warmth around his Force signature permeated his every atom. A soothing, calming, warmth, feeling so similar to the binary suns of Tatooine cradled him. Obi-Wan wanted to close his eyes and lean into it, wrap himself around that feeling and never let go.

So he did. He opened himself up to it and the warmth rushed to greet him. Obi-Wan moaned, the feeling so sublime it was euphoric. Their signatures tangled and combined. Vader plucked on Obi-Wan’s signature, finding his desire – the wantwantwant and the needneedneed -- and bundling it up for himself.

“Oh,” he barely breathed out. “That’s you.”

“No, sweet thing,” Vader replied. “That’s what’s left of Anakin. This is me.” The warmth turned molten, searing at his nerve endings and consuming everything it touched. It was then, when Obi-Wan was distracted and overwhelmed, that Vader finally pushed in.

It was everything Obi-Wan wanted and it was everything he dreaded. Vader burned him physically and through the Force and Obi-Wan craved it. Vader pushed and pushed, slowly, unbearably slowly, until he was seated to the hilt in Obi-Wan.

There were no words between them anymore, just feelings passed along in an endless feedback loop. The pleasure, the pain, the fullness, the rightness of it all. Each thrust made Obi-Wan moan out, made Vader’s pleasure in the Force push Obi-Wan’s further, and fuck if Vader didn’t make the prettiest sound of pleasure. Something caught between a gasp and a groan and that’s what sent Obi-Wan right over.

Completely untouched, Obi-Wan came to a gasp of pleasure from Vader. He couldn’t imagine what having all of Vader’s pleasure would do to him.

“Oh, my pretty little Jedi, how you sound; how you feel.” Vader’s orgasm followed closely, pumping his cum deep in Obi-Wan as their pleasure fed into each other. It lasted longer than it should, the pair staying connected while they rode out the dregs of their desire together.

“Next time, we’ll take our time,” Vader said, pulling out and giving Obi-Wan a pat on the ass. He left him like that, stunned and more than a little discomfited and a lot excited by the idea of next time.

Chapter Text

He’d wanted to see how beautiful his pet could be, contorted and helpless.  There was no other reason for this besides Vader wanted it, so he did it. Sometimes, he found, it was as simple as that. Even when blue eyes stared up at him with the question of “why?”

Vader answered easily through the Force, “I want to.”

The pretty creature’s Jedi Masters must have been so neglectful to not train him correctly. They hardly taught him how to shield himself properly or how to fight or how to manipulate the Force. Though, he guessed, the Jedi didn’t manipulate the Force. They let it flow through them and use them. The very idea was laughable.

Rope, thick and coarse, was tied around his bare and ankles. It was cute how little of a fight he put up, ultimately being cowed by the dark look in Vader’s gold eyes. It was almost a type of meditation for Vader, tying thin wrists behind his back and ankles tied to his waist by another rope. It forced the young man’s back to arch just a bit. Not too much to hurt, but enough to curve his spine. Vader crouched, ghosting his black gloved fingertips along the length of the lean arch he created.

“Stunning,” Vader admired. His index finger ran over each knob of his vertebrae. His pet was still fully clothed… but maybe next time they could play this game without an abundance of robes on. The Force between them trembled with the tumult of emotions that the little Jedi felt. Shame, relief, shy pride at the compliment, anticipation.

The darling creature pulled at the ropes, a useless endeavor but one Vader understood was part of the game. He had to at least act like he wanted to escape. Vader stood then, content with watching the skin under the ropes turn pink with his wriggling. They both wanted the marks to linger after they were done; they both wanted the burn so Vader could run his lips over hot skin later. So his pet could gasp and pretend he didn’t orchestrate the aftercare he so obviously wanted.

Vader began unbuttoning his pants, pushing them down only enough to free his hard cock. It was arousing to see a man as gorgeous as this tied up before him. It was intoxicating and it made him feel empowered to have such a strong Force user whimper at his feet. His pet didn’t even know what he was capable of because those ridiculous Jedi refused to train him properly. Vader wouldn’t train him traditionally, but…

Blue eyes watched, wide as Vader began stroking himself. He spit in his hand, earning a startled jerk from the pretty thing on the ground before him.

“Ah, ah, don’t run away,” Vader tutted. He emphasized his point, lifting his foot to rest his boot against the side of his pet’s head, pushing his cheek into the ground. Vader had no intention of injuring him, but the threat did enough because the Jedi stopped moving.

Vader drank in the image as feelings of humiliation and a dreaded desire screamed through their bond from the Jedi’s side. He squirmed his hips a bit, making a lazy smile spread on Vader’s face.

“Do you enjoy me looking at you like this?” Vader asked, taking his time dragging his gloved hand over his erection. His pet’s eyes were so round and wide, but they were locked on his weeping cock. A bead of precum dripped down from the tip onto his pet’s cheek. A jolt of alarm and then acceptance shot through their bond. “Speak.”

“Y-yes,” he stuttered out, cheeks bright pink. Vader groaned at the sound of his voice.

“Your voice echoes in the Force. It drowns out all the other noise until it’s all that’s in my head.” Vader was sure this didn’t make any sense to his pet, but he didn’t care. “It sounds even better when it’s wrecked from choking on my cock.” A zing of embarrassment shot through their bond. It would have made Vader laugh at another time, if pleasure wasn’t coiling in his core. The man stared at him from the corner of his eye, but Vader was drinking in his pet. His body trembled, his hips tried to curl in to get some relief, but Vader wasn’t going to help him. He wanted to watch the desperation; he wanted to feel it spill into their bond.

The leather of his glove on his cock was nice, but nothing was as good as the wet heat of his Jedi’s mouth.

“Open your mouth,” Vader said, removing his boot from a soft cheek and placing it by his head. The Jedi turned his head upwards, further contorting his body, and opened his mouth. A lazy satisfaction bled from Vader into their bond. It felt fucking good to have his plaything so willing, so obedient. A soft noise came from the man on the ground, a little whine, a tiny whimper. The smallest of sounds and it shoved Vader over the edge.

He came hard, vaguely aiming for his pet’s mouth, but mostly aiming for his face. Blue eyes closed quickly as cum covered his lovely freckled cheeks. Vader was enamoured by the look of such a pure creature, covered in his filth. When he was done – and Force, it felt like he’d never stop – he tucked himself away and crouched by his Jedi. Blonde eyelashes fluttered open to latch onto gold eyes. Hunger and something too complicated for Vader to understand drenched their bond.

“Swallow and tell me what you’re feeling,” Vader’s voice was soft, the aftereffects of his orgasm making him gentle. His pet’s mouth closed, and he watched his throat bob as he swallowed.

“I want…” his voice was beautiful as it shook. “More.”

Chapter Text

Breathing hard, wild blue eyes locked with angry golden eyes. The red around them seemed deeper than normal, rougher. A snarl of perfect white teeth. What had he done to deserve this?

This was it. Four months with Vader and the Sith had finally gotten tired of him. Three months of unofficial, unusual Force training. Two months of Obi-Wan thinking of Vader like some sort of Jedi Master – he knew the Sith wasn’t as he was constantly reminded from red and yellow eyes boring into his soul – and month of the strange, tingling feeling at the back of his mind. A month of his heart kicking up a notch from something far from fear, filling him with confusion instead.

Obi-Wan’s back was against the wall, head tilted up to look into the eyes he’d been growing more and more comfortable with, with each passing day. A vibroblade held tight against his throat. The silence between them was deafening.

His tear ducts burned but refused to well up. He’d become too trusting of the Sith. Since Vader had come back to him, rescuing him from that dark room, the young Jedi was consumed with thoughts of the handsome, deadly older man. 

“It seems the only way to force you to stop calling me by my dead name is to take your voice,” Vader hissed, pressing the knife closer. Obi-Wan thought he could feel the skin break, just a bit. His suspicion was confirmed as Vader’s eyes shifted down, following a bead of blood as it trickled down his throat. His heart was pounding. He’d said it on accident. When Vader was sweet to him – which in his defense, Vader was sickeningly sweet to him most of the time – he felt more like Anakin. It felt like they were two different people, living in the same body, and Vader did nothing but encourage that notion with his wild mood swings.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan swallowed thickly. He could feel his throat scrape against the blade with the action. “It’s—It’s a beautiful name.”

“There is nothing beautiful about me.” But Vader let up the pressure, just enough to encourage Obi-Wan. Sometimes, Obi-Wan was too impulsive for his own good. A shaking hand reached up to gently hold the black gloved hand. Gold eyes flared.

“Everything about you is,” Obi-Wan whispered, searching Vader’s tanned face, the perfect unmarred skin, the curls framing his face. Could Vader hear his heart pounding? The black of his pupils dilated and a slow, deranged smile spread over plush pink lips.

“Oh, how I’ve broken you, my lovely pet,” Vader purred, the shift in him sudden and jarring. But Obi-Wan didn’t move, the knife still a threat at his throat. “I told you time and time again. Anakin Skywalker is dead.”

“I dream about him,” Obi-Wan blurted out, immediately wishing he could take it back. “I don’t know why. I have dreams about Anakin, as a Jedi with a blue blade.” But Vader was never a Jedi, he knew this. Vader was raised as a Sith by a Master he escaped from long ago. He didn't know what the dreams were, maybe a Force vision of what could have been.

It was all the wrong things to say. Hatred flashed across Vader’s face, and he drew back his hand, knife held in a tight grip. Obi-Wan stared, in horror and acceptance, as Vader brought the knife down in an arc.

Obi-Wan reached out in the Force, tangling his signature in as much of Vader’s as he was allowed to access, a desperate attempt to leave a part of him with Vader when his throat was slit.

The knife plunged into the duracrete next to his head. It severed several of his long curls but nothing else. Vader hunched over him, forehead pressing against his.

“You use the Force against me as a weapon,” Vader seethed. Obi-Wan blinked. “The way you pour your feelings into me when you grab at me like that.”

“I’m not—” Obi-Wan began but was cut off by a searing kiss. He wasn’t prepared for it and, if he was being honest, they didn’t just kiss. Everything with Vader was always so dramatic and so much and so overwhelming. A kiss like this wasn’t done.

Vader’s gloved hands came up and cradled his face, holding him still, but both thumbs caressed his cheeks. Obi-Wan melted into the touch, quickly forgetting the vibroblade beside his face even as it hummed quietly. His own hands were suddenly gripping Vader’s black robes, holding on like a lifeline.

“I can’t stand your fear,” Vader said against Obi-Wan’s lips; the kiss not quite broken yet. “I want it, I crave it, but I can’t stand it.” And then Vader devoured him.

Chapter Text

He was so tight. His darling Jedi was so perfect, writhing, and breathless under him. Vader’s gloved hand was unyielding on the back of his neck, pushing the side of his face into the mattress under them while Vader sunk into that tight heat over and over. He was addicted to the sounds his darling made; to the way their signatures threaded together, deepening the bond he’d greedily forced on the other man.

He’d wrestled multiple orgasms out of his pet, and now the poor thing was coming dry, spent and used.

“S-stop,” the gasped rasp came from below, and the Force curled around him in the way it always did when it wanted to protect what it loved. Vader lifted a hand to try to touch the little cocoon it made around the young man. “It’s too much.”

“But you want it,” Vader stated bluntly. When he couldn’t touch the Force, like he knew he wouldn’t be able to, that same hand grabbed his pet’s arm and twisted it behind his back, holding him still. Pleasure spiked in the Force but Vader knew it was only because his darling craved touch. Something he’d broken into him months before. Nobody but Vader touched him and Vader touched him everywhere.

“Yes,” he choked out, trying to pull away. Vader had him too well pinned down for him to go anywhere. “I always want you, but this is too much.”

It was never too much, to touch the body under him. The body Vader could mark up how he pleased and how the little Jedi let him do anything. Fucking anything. How he’d existed in a lonesome limbo before the pretty little creature, he couldn’t recall.

Vader’s obsession went deep, wanting to crawl inside his body. Wanting to see if his insides looked the same as his own; wanting to pull his bones out and suck at the marrow. His pet just didn’t understand that what he was doing was tame compared to what he yearned to do.

“Vader, please.” His darling begging had the exact opposite effect that he was sure the boy wanted. It only encouraged him, the squelching noises of his renewed thrusts lewd in the bedroom. Pleasure and pain and an all-encompassing feeling of being ruined and made complete soaking the golden bond between the pair.

He’d never gone this far before. He’d never wanted a marathon of human touch and why would he when all he touch he’d ever known was to give and receive hurt. But the young man was so receptive; so encouraging. He begged for more and Vader was only doing what he requested. Vader felt the desire to see those pretty eyes, to see the tears he was surely causing. For only a moment, a moment of loss for Vader and bliss for his pet, he pulled out. It was meant to only turn the boy onto his back, twist him over so he could lick away the big tears and kiss him tender.

Vader heard the whisper of the Force, warning him he was pushing it too far, but he never listened to it. Even afterwards, knowing what happened, he wasn’t sure he would have listened, because now, now, he had a permanent reminder that his little pet had claws. And what was sweeter than a scar gifted to him?

He writhed under Vader, overstimulated and damn near incoherent. But Vader liked to push the boundaries; he liked to see what he could get away with. This was not one of those things.

There was a pull in the Force, a tug at the edges of his peripherals, and suddenly that same vibroblade that he used against him was flying to his pet’s hand, dislodged from the wall they both left it in a month ago. Vader blinked, a little stupefied. They could introduce knifeplay if he wanted—

With an upward slash, wild and uncoordinated, the little Jedi lashed out. Vader had only a moment to react, the Force telling him it was too late, but at least he pulled back enough so the blade would only just cut his face rather than take the eye. From cheekbone to brow, skin split and blood poured down between them.

Shock resonated between both of them before fear and shame washed through his darling, feral creature. Blood dripped onto the toned, lovely expanse of a pale abdomen, tarnishing it.

“Oh Force,” his darling whispered, terrified. But Vader only smiled, blood running into his mouth, between his teeth.

"That, sweet thing, is going to scar." Vader lifted a hand up to the new cut, touching the split skin and ignoring the sting. Nothing hurt anymore; not after decades of pain such as this. His pet looked like he was going to be sick, Vader only felt one thing in this moment.

He felt pride.

Chapter Text

It happened suddenly.

Obi-Wan was watching idly as Vader moved about their room, the big transparisteel window bathing everything in natural light, including the older man.

Laying in bed, sheets cool against his skin, Obi-Wan felt a tightening in his gut.

Vader stood at the window, forearm resting against the window, naked for all the world to see if they could see this high up. He was staring out at the city below, their room on Troithe as high as it could be. Obi-Wan was convinced Vader was showing off his power and influence, though he’d never admit to it. Even when the Sith claimed to have business on Troithe and forced them both to leave Tatooine for the first time since Obi-Wan fell into Vader’s hands.

Vader’s expanse of tanned skin brightened along the edges by the light in the sky, slowly being swallowed up by the black hole this planet orbited. There were parallels there that Obi-Wan wasn’t interested in connecting the dots about.

A myriad of scars and bruises were bared to him in a show of implicit trust that Obi-Wan could never dream of breaking. His gaze drifted lower to Vader’s backside, his cheeks flushing, and another spike of heat shot through his core. Quickly, before his own body could betray him, he glanced away. Anywhere else.

“You like what you see, pretty thing?” Vader asked, not looking from the window. He must have felt the spike of lust in the Force; he was always so attuned to things Obi-Wan had been trained not to feel. Obi-Wan’s face turned hotter. He didn’t answer, too embarrassed at being caught out. He wasn’t sure why he was embarrassed by anything anymore, with all the things Vader did to him.

Vader finally turned from the window, looking at Obi-Wan in bed. He felt small suddenly as Vader stalked over to him, all deadly hunter, considering its prey. The bright red scar across his face made shame drag it’s claws through his soul. Vader had been perfect and Obi-Wan had marred him.

“I’ve trained you too well. Tell me what you’re thinking,” Vader demanded, his voice coloring with annoyance at himself. He yanked the covers away from Obi-Wan, causing the flush on his face to get even hotter. A big hand clamped around his ankle and pulled him across the bed. The bedsheets were so soft across his skin as he slid down them towards the devil at the end of the bed. Vader spread Obi-Wan’s legs and positioned himself between them. His hands, both flesh and mechno, explored already familiar skin.

“You’re fucking blinding right now. I can’t see anything past how bright you are. What’s made you so happy?” Vader went on speaking, not giving Obi-Wan a second to think about what he was going to say. He couldn’t… he couldn’t tell him the thoughts that passed through his head, could he? “Gold- no, rose gold. Like a halo around you. The Force loves you… do you feel it? Caressing you like that?”

Obi-Wan could hardly think past the hands on him, teasing his nipples, trailing between his abdominal muscles, dipping into the junction where pelvis met thigh. Vader never seemed to be able to get enough of him.

“I—” Obi-Wan couldn’t say it. He couldn’t tell him. Who fell in love with their captor? But a warm mouth descended on him, nibbling at his collarbone. The hands at his hips pulled him further down on the bed so Obi-Wan’s flank was pressed flush against Vader’s hips. He was hard and Obi-Wan automatically wrapped his legs around Vader’s waist. A thrill went through Obi-Wan at the feeling of that hard length nestled against his perineum.

“Ah,” Vader made a surprised noise, pulling back and staring through Obi-Wan. His hips seemed to roll on their own, causing Obi-Wan to toss his head back against the bed in pleasure. “It’s getting brighter. Tell me, my pet, what is it?”

His heart was pounding. He had no control over whatever it was that Vader could see but it was clearly ratting him out. Obi-Wan squirmed a little bit because he didn’t want to tell him, but he knew Vader’s patience would wear out soon. Another lazy roll of the hips; that hard length against him so distracting.

“I—” Obi-Wan tried again, but his voice shook. Sharp gold eyes finally focused on Obi-Wan. His breathing became shallow. The words were ripped from him, barely more than a whisper. “I love you.”

Silence fell between them, save for Obi-Wan’s thundering heart. Surely Vader could hear it. Vader stared, face blank, and Obi-Wan could feel his anxiety mounting. Why had he said it? Why couldn’t he have lied? No, Vader would have found out if he lied and the punishment would be worse than the confession.

Vader’s hands left Obi-Wan’s torso and came around to his ankles behind his back, unclasping them. Panic flooded through him, thinking he was being rejected; he was going to retaliate, to push away and go cry in the ‘fresher and—

Vader moved his legs until his calves were resting against his chest, leaning forward until Obi-Wan was almost bent in half. Big, wet, blue eyes stared up at the beautiful, wicked man above him. Vader lined himself up with Obi-Wan’s entrance.

“Then you’re in love with a monster,” Vader said simply, pushing in and causing Obi-Wan’s back to arch up.

Chapter Text

It was annoying how easily swayed Vader was to his pet’s desires. He was bored when Vader was gone during the day and books only kept his brain stimulated enough – “Oh I can give you stimulated,” Vader had said in a low voice, but the young man only glared and crossed his arms. Vader felt wrong-footed suddenly, wondering when he became such a sucker for the way those blue eyes narrowed in anger at him – and no amounts of protesting or distraction seemed to sway the Jedi from this path.

“I need something to do,” he protested one evening when Vader got to the top floor later than usual. “You run a business or something, I don’t even know because you never tell me anything but let me help! I can help.”

Vader hated the idea of others even looking at his pet, but… he’d reluctantly agreed to think about it.

It was one day, when the Force was tugging him upstairs and demanding he look – again, just like the first time he’d ever laid eyes upon this own personal nebula – that he found another use for his darling. If Vader thought his voice silenced the noise in his head before, this was something more. The young man was milling around the kitchen, engrossed in making tea – something Vader never had in his house before -- singing to himself, “I'm wrapped around your finger from day one. I slowly see my future slip away, but just a look into your eyes can make me stay.”

A siren. A call that ripped Vader’s soul apart and remade it into something new. He shouldn’t feel a pull like this, but he did, and it damned him.

His did cantina needed a new singer – the last one meeting a fateful, awful, early death.

Which is how he found himself here, preparing for his pet’s first show, when nausea hit him hard. His skin crawled as realization of what he was feeling seeped into his bones. Vader fucking hated other Sith and this one was one of the worst because it had a history with his pet. It was so hard, after learning that, to keep from running the zabrak through with his lightsaber.

The other Sith came before the bar opened. His pet was on stage, practicing a song he wanted to perform that night, looking beautiful in what Vader dressed him in. It was all black – Vader’s claim on him – it was slimming, with sharp shoulders, and an open back. Vader wanted to pull his glove off and run his flesh had along his back as he sang; he had wanted to luxuriate in the softness of his skin and the way he responded to the simplest of Vader’s touches in the Force.

The sickly feeling of the dark side — not his dark side — slithered its way into Vader’s senses. He snarled, the sound making his pet freeze up, plummeting the empty bar into silence. The front door flung open, light from the setting suns pouring in and temporarily blinding both Force users. When the door swung shut, Maul stood there, looking at his pet with interest. And his pet was staring back with horror.

Vader was moving before he could think, using the Force to propel him faster to stand in front of what was his. His lips were pulled back from his teeth as he faced Maul, very obviously pushing the Jedi behind him.

“Vader,” Maul said in greeting.

“Maul,” he replied, voice gravely. He didn’t have the patience for pleasantries. “What do you want?”

“Word has reached us all the way on Moraband that you took an apprentice,” Maul invited himself further in, walking towards the pair, too observant for his own good. “You know our Dark Lord must approve of all apprentices. I’ve been sent to investigate.”

“You heard wrong,” Vader snapped. Hurt lashed through their bond, but Vader had not lied. “I have told Sidious time and time again that I will not take on an apprentice.”

“Then, who is this you shield from me?” Maul asked, though everyone in the room knew he already knew. It was a game, as all things were when it came to the Sith. It was part of why Vader stayed on the Outer Rim, so he could be alone. And now, so he could be alone with his darling Jedi.

He’d already damned them both by being too obvious about the strength of his attachment. Vader forced himself to step to the side just enough for Maul to see. He placed a hand at the back of his darling Jedi’s neck, holding him possessively.

“My pet,” Vader answered. “Do his eyes look Sith to you?” But Maul only smiled, all teeth and unpleasantness.

“Kenobi. So good to see you again,” Maul purred. Vader’s blood was set alight. His darling tried to shift back behind him, but the hand on his neck only tightened, holding him in place. Maul’s eyes seemed to twinkle at the interaction between the two. Sickly yellow eyes flickered between the young man and Vader, observing everything. Slowly, like it pained him, Vader let go of his Jedi.

“I see you have a new scar,” Maul mused, eyes soaking in the angry looking scar. He seemed to enjoy the way it made Vader’s face contort into something cruel.

“A gift from my pet,” Vader scowled and that recurring, dreadful shame from his pet reared its head in the Force.

“I do like feisty things.” Maul prowled forward, knowing he had all the protection of Sidious behind him; knowing that Vader wouldn’t touch him. Maul tugged off a glove all while Vader seethed, skin feeling too tight. Red and black fingers touched his pet’s chin and tilted his face up. The glass behind the bar began rattling with how the Force trembled from Vader’s anger.

“Are you his apprentice now?” Maul asked, ignoring Vader’s previous remarks about it. Blue eyes flickered nervously to Vader before looking defiantly back up to Maul. “A Sith kills your Jedi Master and you go running to another one instead? Did I pique your interest? You could have come with me after Naboo. I would have made you a great Sith Lord.”

“I’m not a Sith apprentice,” his pet said through clenched teeth. Maul removed his hand from his stubborn chin, humming in thought. He walked around his darling, as if apprising cattle. Each passing second was testing Vader’s patience; each second the rattling around them grew. The fucking building would collapse at this rate.

“You’re unwelcome here,” Vader finally snapped. His hand itches for his lightsaber. “It would be unwise to stay.” Maul paused behind the Jedi, eyes taking in the long, pale expanse of exposed skin.

“Oh? I am here on the behalf of our Dark Lord. Is he unwelcome in your little shantytown?” Maul reached a hand out again and touched low on his darling’s back. Wild eyes looked to Vader for help. 

But Vader couldn’t do anything. If he wanted to live in peace from Sidious, if he wanted Sidious to continue to honor their deal, he had to let Maul stay. He had to play nice. Watching Maul drag a black claw up his pet’s spine made it hard for him to find any semblance of control or dig up any of Anakin’s old personality.

He was going to burn this city down if he had to watch any more of this. He was going to take up his ‘saber, ignite it and plunge it through Maul’s fucked up heart. His crystal would sing as it quenched his rage. Vader would swing his lightsaber down over and over until there was nothing left but a smoldering pile of bones.

Sulfuric eyes slid to Vader, like he could read his thoughts. Blue eyes from his trembling darling glared straight through Vader, betrayal lancing him through the chest.

Chapter Text

It hadn’t been the same since Maul visited. Behind every corner he thought the zabrak hid, watching, waiting. He thought Maul might want to finish the job. He’d killed Qui-Gon, now it was his turn. Not even Vader’s arms around him could ease the ice that found its way in his heart.

Maul’s black and red face with his feral smile and thirst for pain haunted his dreams. When he slept with Anakin, almost too warm in his arms, Obi-Wan wouldn’t dream. Now, though, knowing he could be touched by someone as vile as Maul… His nightmares woke them both up, night and night again, a double edged red lightsaber the star of his dreams.

Vader hadn’t protected him in the cantina. How could he trust him now? The ice must have seeped into their bond as one evening Vader snapped narrowed eyes to Obi-Wan as they meditated on plush floor mats. Or, Obi-Wan meditated, trying to quell is ever growing panic, and Vader was wrapping his way around Obi-Wan’s Force signature like a kryat dragon.

“Your disrespect knows no bounds,” Vader snarled pacing the room like a wild animal. His fear had nothing to do with disrespect and the accusation made Obi-Wan mad.

“He killed my Master and he tried to kill me, and you let him touch me!” Obi-Wan argued right back. When he’d gotten the gall to argue with Vader he didn’t know, but this was important. Anakin had to know that. Vader froze mid-step. Anger rumbled in the Force, the strength of it making him queasy.

Gold eyes, redder than anything else now, locked back onto him. Vader skulked forward, hand snapping out for what Obi-Wan thought would be a hit. But Vader never hit him like that. The hand caressed his cheek, and still Obi-Wan flinched. Emotions Obi-Wan couldn’t begin to fathom were like a hurricane behind Vader’s eyes. Anger coiled around Vader like a snake, the Force nipping at Obi-Wan's feet in agitation. 

How could Vader be so mad about this when it was his fault? Obi-Wan knew, somewhere deep in Vader, that Anakin wouldn't have let the other Sith touch him. Anakin wouldn't have been beholden to any unspoken rules; he just knew it. Who was the Dark Lord that held such sway over a powerhouse like Vader? How did Maul have such power given to him to keep someone as feral as Vader down? Countless bottles and glasses had broken by the end of Maul petting Obi-Wan like a tooka. Vader had nearly thrown the Sith out with the Force when Maul decided he'd had his fun.

Obi-Wan felt his shields leaking his emotions like a sieve only too late. Vader snarled, turned and left. Obi-Wan gaped, moving to scramble up off the floor. A door slammed down in the cantina and he hurried to the window. The black figure of Vader was stalking down the street. He left?

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan shouted behind the window, hoping in Vader’s anger he’d come back.

When Vader didn’t come back for the rest of that night, Obi-Wan felt sick. He went to bed alone and couldn’t sleep. It was too cold; it reminded him of the room in the lower levels. Under all their blankets - Vader insisted on buying softer and softer blankets when Obi-Wan mentioned he'd never felt anything as soft as the original ones on the bed - Obi-Wan shivered. Surely Vader couldn't have left the planet? He couldn't feel Vader in their bond, the other side of it cut off so abruptly when Obi-Wan's panic melted into it's gold light, tarnishing it.

When the suns rose, he blearily went to the window to keep watch. When would Vader be back? How could he leave like this?

His appetite was shot, his muscles ached, a heavy weight felt like it was resting over his mind. Obi-Wan hadn’t felt this since the room and for a brief second, he wondered if he’d ever left it. If all of this was just some vivid hallucination he was living in and his body was still laying on the cold, hard ground in the basement. Obi-Wan glanced over to the corners of the room, wondering if one was brighter than the others.

Even the cantina was closed for the foreseeable future. Some woman came by to put a sign out to inform the public. Obi-Wan watched, unfeeling, as she glanced up to him at the window. Brown curls, brown eyes, small frame, she waved but didn’t offer him a smile. He didn’t acknowledge her. 

Obi-Wan sat at the window, staring blankly out it, waiting. And waiting. And waiting. He’d sit here and wait for the rest of his life for Anakin to come back. His Anakin, who was so obsessed with him it hurt both of them. And himself? He must be just as insane, broken and dying as he waited.

“Little nebula,” a voice whispered through his stilted dreams. A soft sigh of relief escaped him, eyes still closed, and Obi-Wan felt soothed. “You’re grey. Your light has been dimmed.”

Anakin was on a knee in front of Obi-Wan as he blinked his eyes open. His tanned face was almost serene as he watched Obi-Wan, gold eyes soft. He was so handsome, bronze hair in curls around his face, fine features making Obi-Wan want nothing more than to kiss his nose, cheeks, brow, and the scar he gave him.

“You came back,” Obi-Wan whispered.

“I’ll always come back for you,” Anakin said simply, like it was that easy. He fished around in his robes. “I brought you a gift.”

He produced a bloody horn, red and black bits still hanging off the end of it. Vader grabbed one of Obi-Wan’s hands and placed it in his palm. Obi-Wan felt his skin crawl as it touched him.

“You have no reason to be afraid anymore,” Vader stood then, and went to the refresher. He couldn’t have been more wrong, Obi-Wan thought as he watched him go.

Chapter Text

I still look at you with eyes that want you

When you move, you make my oceans move too

If I hear my name, I will run your way

“Do we have a deal?” Vader asked, arm resting around the back of the couch, leaning in towards his companion in the seat next to him. Bronze curls fell across his forehead, smirk across his lips. It was dark where they sat, in a corner of the cantina. Jango stared impassively at him, unimpressed. But no one said no to Vader.

“No,” Fett said, making the smile fall off Vader’s face. Jango was immovable. Vader wanted his territory and the offer of protection was a fair deal.

“No,” Vader repeated, tasting the word, finding it unpleasant. Music flowed between them, the keys and strings of instruments trying to calm the tension that suddenly mounted between the two.

“We don’t need your protection. I have perfectly capable men for that,” Jango began moving out of the booth away from Vader. Fury shot through his veins at being denied. They both knew he wouldn’t do anything though. This was supposed to be a professional business deal between a sith and a bounty hunter, not a back-alley deal.

Vader quickly stood, stepping in front of Fett. The man wasn’t easily scared as he only blinked. The Force roiled off Anakin in dark waves and he knew it would make the Force sensitive man feel ill. Still, he didn’t let anything show.

“At least think about it,” Vader said quietly. “Go home to your son, hold him tight, and think long and hard about it. I’ll meet you in two days to hear your new decision.” Brown eyes bore into him, understanding passing behind them. Jango only smiled unkindly. He clapped Vader on the shoulder before leaving without another word. Vader flexed his hand, black leather glove creaking.

It's my desire that you feed

You know just what I need

You got power over me

Vader took a deep breath, letting the sound of his pretty songbird’s voice wash over him. It cleansed him, centering him. Gold eyes looked at the young man on stage for the first time that night. The cantina was dark except for candles at tables, the dim light behind the bar, and the spotlight on the singer.

He knew the boy couldn’t see anything as the light blinded him, but blue eyes still somehow found him out. His darling Jedi, stolen from the temple, with the voice of an angel stood dressed in what Vader told him to wear, singing in his bar, being his good boy. 

It was easier to break the Jedi than he expected, but the padawan had never known a moment of love. He’d bent so easily with the first soft words Vader gave him and once the Force suppression collar was locked around his throat, it was over for him.

Desire, power, and intense want rushed through his body when he told his pet that it would keep him safe and then he believed him. No more Sith would find him when they were separated; no one could touch him with Vader’s collar on display around his throat. 

He’d nearly begged for it in the end, when Vader whispered it would please him to wear his gift. Big blue eyes, watery from fear and desire had stared up at him, long neck extended as he waited to have the Force ripped from him. He hadn’t known that Vader wanted more than that though — Vader always wanted more — as the collar locked around his throat it stole his voice away as well. Tears had fallen when he realized, but Vader’s command over him was complete and his little Jedi accepted what happened by lifting up on his toes to kiss him.

All I feel as I get closer to you

Is the desire to move like you do

His Jedi was his most prized possession. When the collar was turned off for moments like these, when his darling would perform, it was only a gold ring around his throat, releasing the boy’s voice and Force abilities. Vader decorated the collar with chains and necklaces of pearls, blinding in the spotlight and ensuring everyone saw his claim on the young man.

The blue of his eyes was the only splash of color in the spotlight. The light washed out his long auburn hair making it look white, his too-tight black suit made him look tiny, but it was the jewels Vader had draped over him that drew the eye. 

Vader walked closer to the stage, ignoring everything else except what was his. Everyone he walked by either shied away from his presence or tried to reach out to get his attention. He could tell the moment his Jedi finally, truly saw him. His pet moved closer on stage as if he couldn’t help but to be close to Vader even as he belted the song out, hitting each note perfectly.

The young man hated him as much as he loved him, and Vader soaked in the mix of feelings with relish. Vader was having so much fun playing with the light side of the Force, seeing how close he could push it to the dark side without doing so. He had no plans to see blue eyes turn gold, so he had to nurture the love as much as the hate.

You're the one that seduced me, 

lured me in with your beauty

Now I know that you used me,

Vader’s suit matched his Jedi’s, without the glitz. He stood at the edge of the stage, gazing up at his beautiful boy. His Jedi stared at him, seeing nothing else, and Vader was reminded of the first time they met, when he decided to steal him.

A bar on Coruscant in the lower levels, somewhere a respectable Jedi should never have been, but his little Jedi was never very respectable. 

Beige robes shrouded his figure, but he blinded Vader in the Force and he was useless to fight the pull. He sidled up to the young man, leaning on the bar, very obviously wanting his attention. Blue eyes looked at him, startled. Vader brushed his long auburn hair behind his ear and smiled at this supernova.

It’d been so easy to convince him to come back to his ship, after spending the night touching his face and resting his hand on his knee and moving it up and up and up gradually. The pretty young thing melted into his touch so easily.

“You want to get out of here?” Vader asked, leaning so close, eyes flashing. The Jedi blinked a little, as if trying to parse the way Vader was looking at him. Could he see the naked hunger in Vader's eyes? His feelings in the Force were like a brand on Vader’s skin: a scream of yes and distrust and desire. It was heady to Vader, but he tried not to show his eagerness.

“Do you have—”

“My ship has a room on it and it’s nearby,” Vader tried not to sound too smug, knowing Anakin would never. “I can make you feel good, my little nebula.”

“Obi-Wan,” the Jedi said again, but Vader didn’t care. Soon he’d strip the young man of his name. The Force shifted from distrust to implicit lust as Vader wrapped an arm around the young man’s trim waist, under the big layer of outer robes. Soft, alcohol wetted lips kissed Vader’s neck gently, causing a thrill to go through him.

He was his.

I give my all now, can't you see

Why won't you set me free?

Before this show, Vader had stood behind his pet, who sat on a stool in front of a large vanity mirror. Vader was draping him in his finery, his touch worshipful, like his boy was something fragile to be broken. And really, he was, wasn't he? He had no roots in place anywhere except in Vader and even those were made out of desperation instead of choice.

“You look stunning,” Vader murmured, looking at the pale face in the reflection. His darling opened his mouth, but nothing came out. The blue of the collar was brilliant. He looked down at his hands, ashamed. Vader chuckled, amused, layering more jewels on the boy.

Nurturing the love and the hate.

Now, on stage his darling sang and stared down at him with so much misguided love. Vader cultivated it; thrived in it.

Vader held his hand out and his Jedi took it, taking a step off the stage, voice wavering. He brought him to his chest, holding him tight. The next words were nearly whispered.

all you did was confuse me

You're no longer what I need, 

touch me slow, feel my heart bleed

The blue of the Force suppression collar lit up again, taking his voice away.

Vader was going to bring his sweet thing to the meeting with Fett where he’d make him sit and watch as he strung up the man and his son and showed them why he should have said yes to Vader’s protection. His Jedi would hate it, but Vader knew he’d watch if he was told to. 

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan had never felt anything like this before. Something so complete and fulfilling; something so intoxicating.

Vader, no, Anakin, sat propped up against the headboard of their bed – he wasn’t sure when he started thinking of things as theirs. He looked so regal; stern face twisted into pleasure, hands holding Obi-Wan’s hips in a tight grip. His thumbs traced circles along his hipbones and Obi-Wan was so in love with him.

They’d barely made it upstairs from the cantina before Obi-Wan was quickly stripped from his performer outfit and pouncing in Anakin’s arms, legs wrapped around his waist. The words he’d sang, Maybe it's my destiny, losing my ambitions, loving how the pain feels, maybe I am meant to bleed, resonating with both of them. Just as he meant for it to.

Obi-Wan allowed himself to call him Anakin when the collar was turned on, and it was partly why he’d rushed this coming together. He wanted the collar on to think about his Anakin. His sweet, beautiful, bright light that was Anakin. There was no moment when he might accidentally use his name, that charming, lovely sounding name that Vader hated.

Anakin was staring up at him with eyes full of so much fire and longing. Obi-Wan stared right back, unashamed, and unafraid as he flexed his thighs to ride the older man.

A tanned hand reached up to brush long, sweaty auburn hair out of his face and Obi-Wan turned into the touch to nuzzle the large palm. This hand that he loved was so deadly. It caused him such pain and brought him such pleasure.

“That’s my sweet thing,” Anakin murmured, voice hoarse. Only Obi-Wan could bring him to sound like that and the power behind that went straight to his head. Big bad Vader, brought back down to being human by him. By someone who was no one until Anakin decided to make him something.

He set the pace and Anakin let him, taking him in long, slow sweeps. The way his cock dragged against his walls was exquisite. Obi-Wan let his head fall back in pleasure, long hair falling behind him. Anakin took the bait, leaning forward with an arm wrapped around Obi-Wan’s slender waist, and nibbled at his extended neck. 

Obi-Wan parted his lips but the only thing that came out was a hard exhale. Anakin’s lips stopped at the collar’s edges causing the older man to make a disgruntled noise.

His world was spinning as Anakin shifted them, thrusting hard up into him to make sure they wouldn’t be separated for even a moment. Obi-Wan’s back hit the bed, hair sprawling out over the sheets. The angle was deeper as Anakin drove into him.

“I want to hear you; I want to feel you,” Anakin was saying, hands going up to Obi-Wan’s collar. It was unlocked with the Force, something Anakin did to manipulate it, and the weight fell off his neck.

Their Force signatures rushed at each other as Obi-Wan was so severely overwhelmed by everything. The thrusting of Anakin’s hips, the Force filling every atom while Anakin filled him, and Obi-Wan cried out. Anakin moaned, low and long, mouth descending on Obi-Wan’s, hungry and vicious. Anakin’s name was a prayer in the Force, flowing from Obi-Wan to the older man. It drew a snarl from him, the luxurious roll of his hips turning into something more punishing.

Anakin didn’t say anything, instead deciding to wrap the Force around Obi-Wan’s throat, finger by finger. He felt the new collar replace the old one and squeeze.

A twisted sort of pleasure wound its way down his spine, something trained into him to enjoy rather than something he naturally craved. But Anakin, his beloved Anakin, using the Force to steal his breath, was everything he wanted. Anything Anakin did was what he wanted.

Chapter Text

It happened suddenly. 

Vader watched his pet with sharp eyes. The pretty creature moved so gracefully, so sure of himself now that he had the incorrect notion that the collar really kept him safe. He seemed to feel Vader’s heavy stare because he turned and he smiled like Vader wasn’t keeping him in a gilded cage.

His lovely thing sauntered over, the eyes of everyone in the cantina on him. He was beautiful, he was alluring, he was Vader’s little secret. The shining light of the Dark Star. Ever since his Jedi started singing and overall enjoying himself in the cantina, it was busier than it ever had been before.

Like his light was even visible to non-Force users. Everyone was drawn to him.

Vader had a dislike for running a business, but he had to make money somehow, and if he kept his foothold on Tatooine then the fucking Hutts couldn’t slither their way back. He didn’t have the network or stretch to keep them from other planets, but this one he could hold at least. It was the least he could do for Shmi.

Eyes were hungry as they followed his darling pet. It made Vader’s fury spike but it also made him smug. Because this fine man was his. The Jedi swung himself into Vader’s lap and he burned with want. A fire was ignited in him as his pet perched himself in Vader’s lap like he belonged there.

He was so small in Vader’s hands, his waist bare to the elements. Vader had dressed him in black leather pants and a black long sleeved, high necked crop top. He couldn’t help himself, really. He’d wanted to see his precious Jedi dressed slutty and now that he had it, he wanted to rip the eyes out of every other person’s head.

Blue eyes sparkled in greeting and Vader, in a moment of weakness, regretted the collar. It rankled at him not to be able to see the brilliant explosion of the Force around his pet. He tugged at the gold and blue lit collar, causing his pet to sway bonelessly with the motion.

“Everyone here wants you, did you know?” Vader asked, voice low under the noise of people talking. His darling tilted his head to the side like a little bird, asking him to elaborate silently. Long, pale fingers traced around Vader’s neck, around the skin right above his clothes. A trail of flames followed in the wake of those delicate fingers.

“Even now, after I’ve given you purpose, you doubt everything you are,” Vader murmured. How was the young man still so naïve after everything they’d done together? Somehow with the mediocre teachings from the Jedi Temple, his pet was still blissfully brainwashed. His gloved hands trail up the exposed skin and under the fabric of the top. A pretty blush spread across freckled cheeks.

Would he always be this innocent? Even after Vader pushed and pushed and pushed to see how many times he could break him? He refused to push him far enough to fall; the blue eyes were too pretty and Sith never got along together when trapped in the same space for too long. He intended to keep his pet and it worked better if his darling didn’t want to try to kill him constantly.

This is when he realizes he loves his pet too 

Pretty pink lips broke out into a smile, white teeth even prettier. Vader wondered if his bones were just as white as his teeth. His mouth was moving and it took him a moment to focus, to read his lips as he spoke.

I’m ready to be devastated by you. Vader realized he was in it deep. So fucking deep. The little Jedi would give him everything he was and Vader wanted to do the same. Feeling almost threatened by this boy in his lap, looking so innocent as he smiled at Vader, a light blush over his cheeks, Vader knew he had a huge fucking problem.

He was in love, and if his obsession with the boy ran any deeper than it already did, it would tear them both apart. Maybe it would tear the galaxy apart instead, or maybe in another time they could have tried to rule it. That was a fucking thought.

Blue eyes closed as Vader dragged the tips of his fingers back down, pressing in enough for it to feel good. When had he ever cared to make his pet feel good outside of the bedroom? And he was still so shy being in the receiving end in public but Vader had to stake his claim over and over. Everyone who stepped into the Dark Star knew the boy was off limits, but it didn’t hurt to remind them all.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan blinked away, bright light filtering in his eyes. He squinted, sitting up, confused. Vader never let him sleep long enough to be woken up by sunlight. He was usually woken up with kisses and wandering hands and whispered words.

This wasn’t quite right though, as Obi-Wan rubbed at his eyes. This room didn’t look quite familiar… it looked like the Temple? Obi-Wan looked around quickly before scrambling out of his bed. Were these quarters his? Everything he passed by looked like they were his… Obi-Wan yanked open drawers, grabbing the first presentable thing to wear, throwing a simple tunic on over his leggings and sleepshirt.

With that, he ran through this bedroom and the main room – definitely Knight’s quarters… had he slept with someone last night? – and through the halls, trying to find a familiar face. Something tugged at his mind, something familiar and comforting. Obi-Wan ran towards it, skidding to a halt outside the giant uneti tree.

A man stood there, face upturned towards the sun, eyes closed – Vader? Obi-Wan watched, bewildered for a minute, trying to process. He reached out in the Force, trying to feel anything of Vader. His prodding must have gotten through, because the man in front of him looked right at him.

He had his scar still, a prosthetic, but a wide, carefree smile. And blue, blue eyes. Obi-Wan had all the breath knocked out of him.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan tried, voice wobbly.

“Why do you look so weird?” Anakin asked, brows furrowed but smile still on his face. “Come here, Padawan.” Obi-Wan didn’t even hesitate, walking forward into Anakin’s open arms and wrapping the older man in a hug.

“Or should I say, Knight Kenobi now?” Anakin asked, face pressed against the top of Obi-Wan’s head. “I’m happy you aren’t too hungover from your night of celebration.”

“My celebration?” Obi-Wan asked, face pressed into Anakin’s robes. Surely this wasn’t an appropriate way for a Jedi to behave, but Anakin smelled just the same as Vader. Ozone, motor oil, and warm spices.

“Have you forgotten your Knighting ceremony already?” Anakin laughed and Obi-Wan was dumbstruck by the sound. “Maybe you did drink too much last night. You’re certainly dressed like you had a rough go of it.”

“R-right,” Obi-Wan muttered, finally letting Anakin go. He stared up at Anakin, face full of wonder and longing.

“How did you sleep last night? Did you like finally having your own space?” Anakin asked, like Obi-Wan was in the correct mindset to have a regular conversation.

“I hate sleeping alone,” Obi-Wan replied automatically. Anakin’s smiling face turned into something softer, something more serene. Were they together here as well?

“Oh, sweetheart,” Anakin’s voice was low, so no one could hear them. But no one else was around. “You can come to my quarters any time, you know that.”

“And spend the night?” Obi-Wan asked, hopeful. He wasn’t entirely sure what this was still, but he had to know they were together in every form they inhabited. Anakin’s brows furrowed and he leaned closer, peering into Obi-Wan’s eyes, searching for something.

“You’re acting very strange,” Anakin said finally. Obi-Wan had no clue how he was supposed to be acting. He was about to open his mouth to deny the accusation when Anakin stepped back abruptly, hand going to his lightsaber hilt.

“Who are you? What did you do with my Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan felt knocked out of reality as he heard Anakin say his name for the very first time.

Obi-Wan jackknifed up, feeling sweaty and anxious. He was still in the temple, sunlight shining into his eyes. His head spun as he tried to piece together what was happening. This time as he dressed, he dressed as he always did, full robes and obi and tabards.

When he found Anakin, and Anakin began repeating the same lines as the previous time, Obi-Wan tried to play it more naturally this time. Anakin didn’t seem suspicious, all bright smiles and laughter. Laughter. What a novel concept to come from his moody, brooding beloved.

It seemed as though they had a full day ahead of them, already planned out, though Obi-Wan hadn’t the slightest clue what they were supposed to do. Luckily, he could blame his airheadedness on partying too much the previous night and Anakin accepted it easily.

They shared a meal together and it was the most normal thing he’d ever done with Anakin.

Where it started to go wrong again was when they stood across from one another on the training floor, lightsabers in hand, Anakin already dropped into the first stance of Form V. Obi-Wan forgot what his lightsaber felt like in his hand. He forgot the weight of it and missed the sound of his crystal humming to him. He’d left it back at the Temple to better fit in with the lower life forms of the bar he’d gone to visit.

He knew this was going to be a disaster before it even started.

Obi-Wan had the most basic of the basic training with Qui-Gon and once Vader had him, the man never once spared a second thought to training Obi-Wan like that. He knew he liked Soresu and that was about it. Obi-Wan sank into the first stance and Anakin smiled. That was the last thing he did right.

Over and over, Anakin dropped him. Obi-Wan couldn’t even be frustrated because he knew this would happen. But Anakin seemed to get angrier and angrier until finally, he swept Obi-Wan’s legs out from under him and fell atop the boy.

Anakin straddled him, blue lightsaber at his throat, the reflection of it make his eyes unnaturally cyan.

“Who are you?” He demanded. Obi-Wan wasn’t scared of this snarling version of the man he loved. Because his version of Anakin would touch the ‘saber to his throat just to hear Obi-Wan hiss in pain; just to smell flesh burn. This Anakin was too soft. “I trained my Obi-Wan better than this — who are you?!”

Obi-Wan’s head spun again, hearing his name for only the second time in Anakin’s lovely, deep voice.

This time, when he woke, he paused. The sunlight hurt his eyes, but he didn’t move. He needed a plan. Obi-Wan wasn’t even sure what he was doing here or what he was supposed to do. What had sent him to his time? He found himself missing his Vader more than enjoying a clean, pure Anakin.

Obi-Wan rolled over in bed and summoned his comm device to his hand with the Force. Vader always taught him to just use the Force. It was there for them, not there for the Jedi to worship uselessly. He sent a message to Anakin, telling him he was too ill to join him for training today. Anakin replied nearly instantly with an acceptance and a teasing comment about partying too hard.

It might be endearing if he hadn’t heard it three times over now.

Living with Vader had taught Obi-Wan that he could move slow, life didn’t need to be hurried and thoughtfully planned out. He spent his days with his menacing love, in his arms, tangled deep in their bond they shared. Some mornings he woke to Vader already fucking into him and Obi-Wan found those days were his favorite ones. Vader would praise him, tell him how well he was taking it and how perfect he was and Obi-Wan didn’t have to even do anything but enjoy himself.

He’d sit in the strip of sunlight in Vader’s main room of his house, meditate — his favorite times were when he could meditate while seated in Vader’s lap, leaning back against his chest — and relax until he could spend the evening and night in the bar. It was all with Vader.

This place, the Temple and this life, didn’t have Vader in it. It only had some muted version of Anakin. This version didn’t even seem authentic to the brief glimpses he got of Anakin through Vader’s mask. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what his plan was for the day, but if he could avoid Anakin all day then maybe he could move onto the next day and get out of whatever fuckery this was.

Obi-Wan lay in bed for the day, watching the sun move across the sky and missing his Vader.

When it was around evening time, a knock sounded at his door. Obi-Wan sighed, already knowing who it was, and climbed out of bed. He trudged to the door, uncaring that he only wore his sleep shirt and shorts. It was just Anakin and even if they weren’t together, they surely had seen the other in the communal showers.

Obi-Wan opened the door just a crack to peer through. Sure enough, Anakin stood there, looking beautiful and tall, holding a couple bags of food in his hands.

“Hi,” Anakin sounded bashful almost as he said it. “I brought food as an offering.” Obi-Wan glanced down, seeing Dex’s name printed on the bags and reluctantly let Anakin in. Anakin smiled and sauntered in like he owned the place, and if this had been his Anakin, he might be inclined to agree.

“Sorry, I just haven't been feeling well,” Obi-Wan said, repeating his earlier excuse.

“I know,” Anakin said as he place the bags on a table and began taking the food out. “I came to take care of you. I know you probably don’t want your old Master to coddle you, but I didn’t think I wouldn’t have to go so soon without seeing you all day. It was driving me crazy.”

Obi-Wan blinked. That sounded more like his Anakin. A little bit of possessiveness sprinkled into his words. Anakin turned, like he could sense the surprise in Obi-Wan, and he finally took in Obi-Wan’s appearance.

“Oh,” Anakin breathed out, a little dumbly. His eyes traveled down to Obi-Wan’s bare legs and a hunger lingered in the backs of his eyes. Obi-Wan was very familiar with that look. He wondered if this version of himself didn’t know what that look meant, because Anakin had done it so blatantly.

“Master, did you come here for something else, too?” Obi-Wan asked, fingers playing at the hem of his sleep shirt. He knew the look it portrayed. Anakin’s face turned a bright shake of pink, something else unique to this Anakin. He looked like he hadn’t meant to be caught out like that.

“I’m not your Master anymore.” Anakin’s voice was strained as Obi-Wan padded closer to him. Like he couldn’t help himself, Anakin reached up and twirled a lock of Obi-Wan’s wavy hair in his fingers.

“That’s right,” Obi-Wan nodded, stepping closer into Anakin’s personal space. Anakin didn’t move back. “I’m a Knight now. There’s nothing holding you back from taking what you want.” After the words left his mouth, he realized how Vader they sounded and liked it. He liked emulating his Sith.

Anakin stared for a long time, playing with his hair and seemingly contemplating his next move. Obi-Wan let him, giving him the time he needed, but swept his gaze down his body so he could look back up at him through his lashes. Who would have thought he’d be the one seducing Anakin?

“You’re right,” Anakin whispered and finally leaned down, pressing his lips against Obi-Wan’s. It was chaste and cute but Obi-Wan didn’t want either of those things.

“Kiss me like you mean it,” Obi-Wan murmured against soft lips. A tiny noise of surprise came from Anakin then, but with only a moments hesitation, he deepened the kiss and backed Obi-Wan up to the couch so they could tumble down on the seat.

Obi-Wan was shocked at how much of the lead he took, wanting to rip all of Anakin’s clothes off to see if he was like his Vader or not. To see if they had the same scars under it all. They both had the same mechno arm, so everything else had to be the same too.

Anakin obviously wanted to have Obi-Wan soft and slow, in missionary so they could face each other, but Obi-Wan turned over on the couch, shifting up on his knees to push his backside up in the air. Anakin choked a little at how forward it was, but he didn’t stop as he prepared Obi-Wan like he might break.

When Anakin began pushing his cock in — after what felt like a fucking eternity of prep — it was still too gentle. Obi-Wan braced himself on the arm of the couch and pushed himself back, fucking himself on Anakin’s cock.

“Fuck,” Anakin groaned. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

Obi-Wan almost wanted to laugh.

“Harder,” he demanded instead when Anakin thrust into him slowly. He complied, if only a little. It wasn’t enough though; it wasn’t like Vader.  “Please, harder.” A gasp from Anakin before his hands found Obi-Wan’s hips and used them as better leverage to fuck into him hard enough that the sound of flesh slapping flesh was just obscene enough.

“Yea,” Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut, head thrown back at how deep Anakin’s cock hit. “Oh, Vader, yes.”

Obi-Wan gasped, eyes snapping open to a dark room, cock hard and body aching. He was so disoriented, so confused. There was no bright sunlight hurting his eyes, but there was a warm body curled around him. He turned his head, looking directly into two bright golden eyes, staring back at him. A hand, big and hot, made its way down between Obi-Wan’s legs.

”Let me take care of you, sweet thing,” Vader purred into his ear and Obi-Wan melted under the touch.

And he felt it then, somewhere in the Force. He’d fall to Anakin in every timeline.

Chapter Text

“Sweet, lovely thing,” Vader murmured into auburn hair. His darling was curled up in his arms, spooning. They were fucking spooning and Vader was enjoying himself. The way his pet quieted the Force around him and when they shared peace like this…

It was the least Sith-like thing he’d ever experienced.

“Will you tell me about yourself?” The low, sleepy voice of his little spoon asked. His kneejerk reaction was to say no. His past was Anakin Skywalker; his past was dead. But the minx shifted his rear against Vader’s hips, distracting him from immediately denying him his requests.

“Why do you want to know?” Vader asked instead. He was less than inclined to share this information. The man in his arms hummed in thought, like he was seriously considering the question. Vader wondered when they’d gotten to this point in their strange, toxic relationship. When had he let the Jedi believe that it was okay to ask such things?

“Why Tatooine?”

“I was born here,” Vader answered simply. Interest sparked from the Jedi’s side of the bond. It prompted Vader to keep going, though he normally would have left it there. “I was a slave, rescued by my Master, then I returned to rid this planet of slavery.” That was it. That was his whole life, summed up in a handful of words. It should have pacified his pet, but his pet was nothing if not curious.

“That seems like a lofty goal to have for a Sith,” the little menace mused, pushing further against Vader’s Force signature.

“Curiously killed the loth cat,” Vader said in a low voice, a threat and a promise all wrapped into one. “The intention might have been pure, but the execution wasn’t. I killed them all. I bathed in their blood and laughed at their screams and got lost deep in the dark side. It took years to get back to where I am now. I should have razed the planet and been done with it.”

A strained silence fell, one of Vader’s hands trailing fingers along a jutting hipbone and up pale skin. He had to slide up under the sleep shirt his pet had on, his flesh hand causing goosebumps to break out in it’s wake.

“Don’t try to think I’m a good person, little nebula,” Vader said, sensing the younger man’s feelings in the Force. “I’m not and I’ll never be again. You are the only good thing I have.”

They both heard the silent, you’re the only good thing I’ve done. They both knew how damning it would be to say it out loud, because Vader stole him and kept him against his will. And Vader was not going to ever let him leave. Even the one good thing he had was tainted by his own selfishness.

His darling shifted, turning around so they faced each other. It was moments like this that Vader felt the most bare to the younger man. Like he could see right through him and Vader hated it.

“You act like you’re this big tough man, like you’re untouchable,” his pet began, eyes trailing up Vader’s face, delicate hands coming up to touch his jaw reverently. Vader raised a brow, already incredulous. “But you’re just like the rest of us. You have feelings and you bleed and you do good.”

“You try so desperately to give me morals and make me decent,” Vader said, almost disappointed. Soft fingers traced his features, devotion layered deep in blue eyes. They looked like the blue skies above Coruscant, a blue with the metal city reflected off it, grey and silver splashed throughout. Adoration was written all over his face.

“You want to hurt me, but you never have.” His darling whispered. Vader lifted his mechno hand and twirled a lock of auburn hair around his black fingers. Fuck, he was getting so soft for this boy.

“Never?” Vader scoffed. “And when I locked you away?”

“If you hadn’t, the Jedi would have found me and taken me away from you.” It was a pretty fantasy his darling had and one that Vader knew was untrue. The Jedi were not looking for him. They sent out feelers the first week his pet went missing, but that was it. After that, they stopped; they had more important things they were doing and a whole war they were trying to win.

Really, for that slight, Vader ought to storm the Temple and burn it down. Anyone who thought this precious being was anything less than the most important thing in the galaxy was wrong.

“I can feel what you’re thinking,” the gentle, low voice said to Vader. A spike of nerves in the Force from his pet, making Vader know he’d already dislike where this was going. “It feels like… when you talk about me being bright.”

“You’re always bright,” Vader mumbled, noncommittal to anything. “Right now, it’s feathery with your strange compulsion to feel comfortable around me.” It caused a laugh to erupt from his darling, loud and sudden. Vader blinked.

“See! You act so tough but I know better,” a big smile was plastered over the boy’s face. “I know your secret. It feels the same as mine.”

Vader swooped down to capture his pet’s lips with his own. He had to make him stop talking before he said it out loud. Vader couldn’t deny it if his pet spoke the words but he was loathe to admit it. The confession was too much. 

“Stop talking so much,” Vader growled. “Either sleep or I put your mouth to better use.” But that smile didn’t leave his face, even as he pulled up and out of Vader’s arms and pushed the older man onto his back.

“Use me,” his darling demanded, bracketing Vader between his hands and legs on the bed. Vader stared up, finally a smirk of his own on his face.

“That’s all I ever do,” Vader replied, watching as his pet kissed down his chest, sternum, and down his abdomen. Vader’s mechno hand went into soft hair, threading between the strands to grip it hard. He wanted to hear this little menace gag on his cock and moan from the pain of his hair being pulled. Vader wanted to see the beautiful tears trailing down his face so he could clean them up later.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan was breathing hard, hands bound behind his back, knees hurting against the metal ground. A bag was thrown over his head, the smell of it making him want to throw up. He was hunched over, trying to breath shallowly, trying to remember how he got here.

Freedom was something only recently granted to him. The ability to leave Vader’s home and the cantina – he only just learned it’s name as he stepped outside and saw it written on the outside – was entrusted to him a whole three days ago. Obi-Wan went out to stand in the suns. That was it; he wanted the morning sunlight to warm his skin. Something so innocent, eyes closed and face turned towards the suns like a flower, when a cloth was shoved against his nose and mouth.

He was held in a tight grip while he struggled to get away, desperately trying to reach out to Vader in the Force. There was some chemical smell on the cloth and Obi-Wan felt his whole world tilt as it got darker.

Vader was in the bowels of the Dark Star when he felt it. A visceral panic in their bond, nearly making him fall to a knee. With a rapidly pounding heart, he ran up stairs, reaching out with his signature to find where his pet would be.

Nowhere. He felt nothing in the close vicinity.

A nasty, inhuman sound tore its way from his throat.

Obi-Wan didn’t know where he was when he woke, only that he was face down on some cold, hard ground and his head felt like his brain was about to melt out of his ears. He struggled slightly to sit up with his hands bound, but, well, Vader had done this enough to him that it wasn’t too hard to maneuver to his knees. At his movements, rustling began from somewhere nearby.

“Ah, you finally wake up,” a voice purred, much closer than Obi-Wan expected, making him flinch away. A hand came up to pet his face through the hood, causing the foul smell to be impossible to ignore. He dry heaved, trying to pull away from the touch, making the being laugh.

“My employer wants me to gather information on you before your Master comes to get you,” his new captor said, the petting turning into a hard slap across his face like it was Obi-Wan’s fault this person had to do this. The force of the slap nearly rocked him back onto the ground but he managed to stay sitting on the heels of his feet, legs spread a little wider for balance.

“Let’s see what you look like then, huh,” the being said, grabbing at the top of the hood and yanking it off. They managed to grab several locks of hair, pulling at those roughly too, causing Obi-Wan to be simultaneously blinded by the sudden light around him and yelping in pain at the hair pull. He blinked rapidly to try to clear his vision.

“Oh, aren’t you a pretty thing.” Obi-Wan could finally see his newest captor and cringed back at the sight of yellow teeth, the stench of bad breath, and cruel, mean eyes. “No wonder everyone is so interested in you; you look like you were made to take a cock or several.”

Obi-Wan’s face heated up brilliantly in embarrassment and outrage. He was made to take one cock and he almost told his captor that, if it didn’t sound deranged in his head a second before he spat it out. Instead, he glared and tried to focus on the Force, to project his signature through the bond.

These people didn’t try put Force suppressing cuffs on him. What a stupid thing for them to not do. They clearly knew who he belonged to. Slowly, Obi-Wan stopped pushing his signature out into the space around him. This was a trap for Vader, wasn’t it? Obi-Wan couldn’t bring Vader here where there were countless beings all waiting for him to arrive. He felt helpless, understanding he was bait for Vader and knowing his love would come for him anyways.

“What do you guys think?” His captor was asking, and Obi-Wan suddenly realized there were more people in the room behind him. “We’re going to die here anyways, should I use his pretty mouth before that? Hold him by his Master’s collar and see if he’s as much of a slut as he looks?” Someone laughed and someone shouted an affirmative. Obi-Wan clenched his teeth together. He'd take it if it meant Anakin didn't fall into whatever this trap was.

The Hutts. Vader stood outside the big doors to their slimy, dusty old cave, his black figure stark against the dirt surrounding him. He’d rid Tatooine of Jabba and his ilk when he came back to his home world, but the Hutts themselves were far spread through the Outer Rim.

So why the fuck did he feel Obi-Wan’s weak signature beyond these doors? Vader’s lightsaber hilt was already in his hand as he glared at the door. They took from him, a Sith lord who already carved his way through their ranks? Leather creaked as he flexed his hand around the hilt.

Gently, he caressed Obi-Wan’s signature with his own before closing himself off from their bond so his darling wouldn’t be tainted by his extreme use of the dark side. The Force swirled around his feet, gathering and coiling like a snake. It waited, eager to be used. Vader flung his left hand out to the blastdoor, ripping it from it’s hinges and throwing it behind him.

Lighting his ‘saber, he prowled in the former slave den.

The blaster fire started up the second the red of his lightsaber reflected off the walls. It was easy enough to deflect, aiming the bolts back at their owners. Most people were already behind their cover but a couple fell to the ricochet. Vader held out a hand, the Force following his direction and slithering it’s way to the lifeforms hidden behind crates, lifting them by the throats, suspending them midair.

People shouted; some fled deeper in the caves and some actually tried to shoot their friends for a quicker death. It was unnecessary, as Vader closed his fist and crushed their throats with the Force. He dropped their limp bodies and grinned at the power rushing through his body. The dark side whispered for more and Vader would give it every single person in this horrible place.

He cut through the combatants with ease, working his way closer and closer to where his pet was. The Force tugged at his peripherals, telling him someone was behind him aiming a gun at him and Vader threw his lightsaber behind him, letting the Force guide it through the body and right back into his hand.

A hunger was stirring in him. His bloodlust wasn’t satiated, only growing with each kill. His lightsaber cauterized the wounds, robbing him of the feeling of thick warmth between his fingers from a kill. With each body down, Vader grew more restless, the Force around him writhing with his displeasure.

In the last room, Vader’s lightsaber was knocked from his grip, the red blade turning off as it clattered to the ground. He was going to call it back when a Force suppression cuff was locked up around his outstretched wrist. Growling as everything around him went silent, he yanked his hand back, turning on the being who took even more from him.

The human was the only one left in the antechamber, looking so fucking smug that they got a cuff on Vader. It didn’t matter; he didn’t need the Force to kill them. He darted forward, the person already thrown off by something so simple as Vader moving and grabbed at the knife the being had at their hip still. Had they thought if they took the Force from Vader that he'd be rendered incapacitated? 

Honestly, the Hutts should be ashamed of their hired help. It all felt too easy, and he wondered if it was engineered to be like that. He didn’t put too much more thought into it as he drove the knife into the jugular of the human. Sharp pleasure shot down his spine at the sight of blood gushing from the wound. Vader kept the knife there to keep the blood from spurting out, even as the person weakly thrashed against him. He watched the maroon flow down dark skin.

Feeling possessed, he leaned forward, wanting to taste. Right before he pressed his lips to this person’s throat, he yanked back. No, there’d only be one man's blood he tasted, and he was right beyond this door waiting for him. Vader waited still, savoring the sounds of this persons choking on their own blood, imagining the way it filled their lungs as it coated his body.

Gold eyes glared at the cuff around his wrist and he patted the dying human down for the key. He found it in a pocket, uncuffed himself, and moaned loud and long when the Force flowed back into him.

Obi-Wan stared in horror at the door, listening to the screams and firing beyond it.

“He found us faster than we expected,” his captor said, sounding disappointed. "That must have been, what, an hour? Sidious will want to know." They had their hands on their pants still, not getting further than threatening to force themselves upon him. The other people in the room moved in front of the door, weapons at the ready and aimed.

“Well, shit,” the being next to him said with a shrug. They turned to look at Obi-Wan. “You woulda been a great fuck, I'm sure.” The door was caved in, crushing the first couple people standing there. A body came flying through immediately after, landing with a thud near Obi-Wan. Blood from a neck wound sprayed when the body landed, splattering Obi-Wan’s face with it. He flinched and would have backed away except a hand was suddenly in his hair, holding him still.

His captor moved to standing behind Obi-Wan, using him as a shield against the force of nature that was Vader. The other beings in the room were taken out in the matter of moments, leaving only the three of them left. Vader still hadn’t looked at Obi-Wan, but he couldn’t look away from Vader’s black eyes, dilated from pleasure and adrenaline. He looked like a demon, the red of his lightsaber illuminating his features in a deathly glow.

Vader didn’t ask any questions, didn’t hesitate, even when his captor opened his mouth to say something. Vader raised his hand and Obi-Wan could feel the Force move as it caressed his skin all the way up his body until it broke each finger holding onto his hair. It crawled up his captor’s body, new screams ringing in Obi-Wan’s ears from the being, and wrapped around their throat. The screams were cut off abruptly, followed by loud choking.

Obi-Wan tried to scramble away, shuffling on his knees and nearly tipping over and falling back on his face. Vader crept in, slow careful steps over bodies littering his path, eyes locked on the dying being. Pleasure bloomed out in the Force as his captor's life force blinked out of existence. Vader let out a little groan before turning his full attention to Obi-Wan.

It was overwhelming to have to carry the brunt of it and Obi-Wan shrunk back.

“Now you’re afraid of me,” Vader whispered, voice hoarse. “Now that I’ve slaughtered every being here for you.” His lightsaber dropped to the ground as Vader swapped his own life for Obi-Wan’s, taking the last several large steps to place them in each other’s orbits. The older man looked drunk as he towered over Obi-Wan, looking down at him. A bloody gloved hand came up to touch Obi-Wan’s cheek – the one his captor had hit.

“Mine.” When Vader spoke, it echoed into the Force around them and the Force seemed to agree with him. With soft strokes and gentled touches, the Force dragged a thousand fingertips across Obi-Wan’s skin, reverent. He’d known this entire time that Vader loved him and he was so severely reminded that Vader, Anakin and the Force all loved him as each creature touched him. As the man stood above him, marking him with someone else’s blood, gold collar weighing heavily around his throat, Obi-Wan felt like he was the one with all the power.

“Yours,” Obi-Wan breathed, parting his lips. Vader’s gaze narrowed down to that point, dragging a gloved finger closer to his lips. The older man seemed to be fighting with something. He looked like he wanted to shove his bloody fingers into Obi-Wan’s mouth and he looked like he’d rather impale himself with his lightsaber than do that. To Obi-Wan’s horror, he knew he’d accept those fingers in his mouth, tasting the coppery flavor across his tongue.

Obi-Wan wanted to test his newfound power over Vader.

“Take me home,” it was a gentle command from Obi-Wan, but while Vader was under this influence from the Force, he followed the instructions like a dog. Vader nodded once, summoning his lightsaber to his side and stooping down to lift Obi-Wan. He was about to protest that he could walk just fine, he only needed his hands unbound, but the fierce look on Vader’s face made the words die on his tongue. An image was shoved at him through a quick opening of Vader's shields: Obi-Wan on his knees, hands still bound and hooked to a wall down in the Dark Star's lower levels, face pressed against the duracrete as Vader fucked him ruthlessly, using him until Vader decided he was done.

Blue eyes looked up into black and Obi-Wan smiled in his acceptance. 

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan didn’t want his freedom anymore. He didn’t want to go down to sing at night; he wanted to stay where it was safe.

After the adrenaline had died down, after Vader’s over protectiveness and when that horrible cave was behind him, Obi-Wan finally settled into his body. They shifted back into what they were before and whatever power Obi-Wan had over Vader was ripped from his hands.

Obi-Wan gladly gave it up if it meant he didn’t have to think anymore. He was more forward with Vader, trying to use sex as a way to occupy his mind. When his thoughts became too much, he’d cut through them like the Jedi taught him, trying to release those feelings into the Force. But when even that didn’t work, he did what the Sith had taught him to do: he reached out to Vader through their bond, pushing a lust to strong enough to always bring him upstairs and take care of Obi-Wan. He didn’t have a lot of room in his head to think about anything but the things Vader did to his body and mind when the older man prowled upstairs to fuck Obi-Wan blissfully senseless.

Still, his thoughts kept turning over the name Sidious and feeling the warm spray of blood on his face as Vader tore through everyone. He’d never felt the dark side as he had when Vader entered the room in a swirl of malice and hate. It shook him to his core looking back on it more than it had in the moment. Had he tamed some sort of animal or was it lurking beneath the surface?

And if Sidious got his hands on Vader would he awaken that beast? What would happen to Obi-Wan? Vader hadn’t been in control of himself as Obi-Wan told him to take him home. He knew if he’d told Vader to burn the planet down, he would have. All because Obi-Wan asked him to.

Dread coiled in his gut as he stared at the dark ceiling. He couldn’t sleep, even with Vader’s warm arm thrown over his chest and the puffs of breath on the top of his head as the man slept next to him. Obi-Wan crawled out of bed, Vader stirring and blinking blearily at him. Obi-Wan went to the direction of the bathroom and felt Vader’s signature go hazy again with some understanding and sleepiness.

But he didn’t understand, as Obi-Wan veered away from his course to the bathroom. Vader’s trainings had been put to good use, shielding a small portion of his mind with durasteel walls, hiding his panic. The last time he did a bad job hiding his feelings, Vader left him for days. Obi-Wan didn’t think he could handle that again.

The Force guided his footsteps, drawing him closer and closer to a whispering. He recognized it, almost missed the way kyber crystals called to their partners. Obi-Wan missed his somedays, but this one had been calling to him since he’d seen it in action in the caves. Vader didn’t bother hiding his lightsaber as it lay where he placed it, in the center of the island in the kitchen. He was so careless with his life, placing it anywhere for anyone to take.

Obi-Wan stared at it, feeling like he was in a daze. It was beautiful, really, all reflective silver and black metal. Housed in it was a blood red crystal, most likely originally blue as his dreams told him it had been and bled with Vader’s hate. Did the crystal hate Obi-Wan? Is that why it called to him in it’s pretty haunted song?

He had visions of holding the lightsaber in his hands, the relief he’d feel when the weight of the hilt was in his hand, turning it on himself. That’d free Vader from whatever trap was being elaborately laid out for him, right? Sidious had captured Obi-Wan to test Vader. Sidious had sent Maul to sniff around and suss out what Vader was doing with Obi-Wan. As if Obi-Wan had foul intentions towards Vader.

As if Obi-Wan could ever possibly dream of hurting Anakin.

It was little surprise when he blinked and the lightsaber was actually in his hands. The crystal purred to him, encouraging him. Sidious would stop of Obi-Wan was gone.

“What are you doing?” Vader’s smooth voice asked from behind Obi-Wan. He wasn’t surprised by that either. Obi-Wan could imagine the red of the ‘saber lighting up the dark room for only a moment as it took his life. The crystal wanted his blood, Obi-Wan could feel it.

“You’re better off without me,” Obi-Wan whispered, holding Vader’s lightsaber hilt pointed at his chest, refusing to look behind him. “He’s after you now, because of me. This is the right thing to do. It’ll- it’ll keep you safe.” It felt like a flimsy reason when he said it out loud. Darkness curled around Obi-Wan’s feet, caressing it’s way up his ankles. Even the crystal felt doubtful now.

“I only want to protect you,” Obi-Wan insisted, but Vader laughed, cruel.

“You think taking you from me would be protecting me?” Vader’s voice was dark as the night around them. It was closer now. “You think I would not find you in the Netherworld and drag you back to your body?” Obi-Wan shivered as hands wrapped around his shoulders, down his arms, and around his hands. Vader didn’t move the hilt from Obi-Wan’s chest though, instead pressing himself flush against Obi-Wan’s back.

“You ignite that and you take us both,” Vader purred in Obi-Wan’s ear, a tongue coming out to trace along the shell of his ear. That was unthinkable, though. Obi-Wan went boneless in Vader’s arms, leaning back against him, hands loose around the hilt.

“No, sweet thing, you were not the one who ripped Maul’s horns off one by one until his screams could be heard all the way to Sidious’s cushy seat on the Senate. I should have done it the moment he laid his eyes on you,” Vader continued, swaying them back and forth in some deranged dance. This would have felt like a romantic moment if the ‘saber hadn’t begun digging into Obi-Wan’s sternum, but he let it. His words were almost a balm to Obi-Wan, if the reminder at the end that it was still his fault hadn’t ripped the gash in his soul wide open again. His panic bled into their bond again.

“The… the Senate?” Obi-Wan whispered in question. This man had that much power and Vader wasn’t worried about it? No wonder he had such sway over not one, but two Sith lords. “Who is he to you?”

“He was my Master, but he no longer holds my leash,” Vader answered easily. This felt like the farthest thing from the truth to Obi-Wan.

“We have to leave,” Obi-Wan said instead and Vader hummed in thought. “They’ll keep coming for you.”

“Perhaps,” Vader hedged. “The old man can’t stand my happiness.” He leaned down, then, and pressed an open mouthed kiss to Obi-Wan's neck, sucking a dark mark there. A hand came up to hook a finger into the gold collar around Obi-Wan's throat and pulled him back into the bedroom all while Vader was sending him lewd thoughts of other uses for his lightsaber.

Chapter Text

It was the dead of night when Vader decided his pet was right. They should leave. The incident with the lightsaber constantly bit at his heels, a reminder of how he’d been a little too successful at breaking the Jedi. If their bond hadn’t been so flayed open from Vader’s constant misuse of it, he’d never have known what his darling was doing in the other room.

He slithered into the boy’s mind, pushed a strong Force suggestion for him to stay in a deep sleep, bundled him up and left.

His ship, the one he’d easily convinced his pet to board when he’d stolen him away, was a luxury vessel that he’d converted and upgraded to suit his needs. After years of being a slave, after years of being under his Master’s boot, he learned it was easier to sneak around when he looked like he had money rather than in some grungy piece of junk ship. His ship was stolen, but the upgrades made it fast, and he’d installed every sort of defense device he knew about on this ship.

Vader plotted a course to the furthest planet he could reach on his fuel and set the ship to hyperdrive before walking back to his quarters.

Vader watched this beautiful creature breath deep in his sleep, laying across the bed in his ship’s bunk. The lights were dimmed just enough that Vader could just see the lovely reds in his pet’s hair. Trailing a gloved hand over the delicate features of his face, Vader leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Finally, his pet began to stir, coming up from his Force induced sleep. Dimmed blue eyes blinked blearily and he smiled sleepily when he spotted Vader, sitting on the bedside. Something swelled in Vader and ached at the sight. He hated it.

“Where--?” his pet began to ask, but Vader was too on edge. The darkness in his peripherals egged him on, encouraged him.

“On my ship,” Vader’s voice was little more than a breath out. “I’ve abandoned my home for you, little nebula.” It was hardly an appropriate accusation since he hated Tatooine, but claws were digging into his brain. His pet was too loving, too sweet. Not broken in the correct way.

“Oh.” The Force around the boy curled in on itself and Vader knew the young man was trying to come up with some way to make that statement hurt less.

“Just like you wanted,” Vader murmured, black gloved fingers moving down to grip his chin between his thumb and forefinger. Shame curdled in their bond from his pet’s side. His other hand was resting on the bed beside his darling’s shoulder, holding himself up as he leaned over him.

“No,” his pet whispered, eyes wide and trying to sit up. Vader moved his hand from his chin to around his throat, pushing him roughly back down.

“Shh,” Vader hushed him, and with a twist of the Force, the blue of his Force suppressing collar lit the dark room up. Fear washed over his pet’s features and he stopped squirming. A small groan came from Vader then, the easy submission going straight to his cock. “You think you have some sway over me, don’t you?”

The worst part of that question is that they both knew his pet did. Vader squeezed his hand around his throat, dragging a light choking noise from his darling. It was music to his ears and gave him an entirely different idea. He loosened his hand, hearing the immediate sharp inhale of breath.

“Why don’t we reestablish some boundaries, sweet thing.” Vader stood off the bed, hooking his fingers in the thin gold collar and dragging his pet’s body around the bed so he was laying on his back, head hanging off the edge. But Vader crouched so they were eye level, his pet looking at him upside down.

“I give up everything because you ask me to. It’s your turn to give me something in return.” As if Vader didn’t take and take and take from this darling creature every day already. He watched the boy swallow heavily, big tears forming already. He was so reactive to everything Vader did and the tears made him rock hard faster than anything else could.

“Anything”, his pet mouthed at him, no sound coming out. Vader’s eyes rolled back in his head at the sharp, shooting pleasure that ran through him. Fuck, it was so easy. Abruptly, he stood, working to remove his pants. He stared hungrily at the way his pet lay waiting on the bed, hands in little fists at his sides, knees slightly bent so his feet were flat on the bedsheets. His pretty hair hung down, the simulated gravity in the ship pulling it down.

Vader pulled himself out of his pants, stroking himself a couple times to the sight. His pet squirmed a little which earned him a slap to the cheek with his cock. And then, because that had been fun, he did it to the other cheek. Something in his darling’s mind seemed to click because his entire body went lax and he opened his mouth, tongue out, waiting.

“Fuck, look at you, a little Jedi slut waiting for a cock to fill you up,” Vader praised, and that praise managed to draw a tear out finally, rolling from his eyes into his hair. He moaned at the sight, unable to control himself much longer.

In their times together, he found that sometimes he could be gentle. Sometimes he wanted to make his pet’s body sing in pleasure rather than be torn apart by the pleasure-pain Vader craved. This, Vader decided, would be none of those things.

He pushed the head of his cock through pretty pink lips, groaning at how good his warm tongue felt, and didn’t bother to let him adjust. Vader pushed and pushed until his cockhead hit the back of his throat and then he kept on pushing.

His pet choked and gagged, but it only served to grant Vader more access until he was bottomed out, his pet’s nose pushed up against his balls and his throat protruding with the cock there. But his darling was being so good, trying desperately to breathe through his nose and keeping his hands to himself.

When he thought it was long enough, he pulled out all the way, watching as his pet’s lips dragged along his cock. An obscene string of drool connected his cock to his pet’s mouth still even as he tried to drag in heaving breaths. The tears were flowing now, but his darling kept his mouth open, waiting for more.

Vader could do nothing but give him what they both wanted. He sheathed himself all the way back in before setting a brutal pace, fucking his face with everything he had. A gloved hand found its way back to his throat to feel himself there, every one in a while pausing to rub his thumb over his own cockhead through his pet’s throat.

It was ecstasy using him as a toy. It was even better when he saw how much his darling was enjoying himself, his cock hard in his trousers, begging for attention. Vader would give it none.

When he felt the pleasure pooling low, building in his gut, he let go of his pet’s throat and moved his hand down to plug his nose. The body on the bed spasmed at the lack of oxygen and it was fucking heaven around his cock. Only a couple more thrusts into that clenching heat and Vader was cumming.

He let his pet breath again, only to have him aspirate cum and cough roughly. When Vader pulled out, finally spent, he watched as his pet tried to close his mouth and swallow and not let all his cum slide out and down his face. Vader made a considering noise in the back of this throat.

“You may—” he was about to let his pet roll over and sit up when he spotted the wet spot in his darling’s pants. Vader stared at it for a solid minute, brain trying to wrap itself around the idea that this pet came, untouched, in his pants from Vader using him rougher than he’d had yet. Instead of speaking anymore, he lifted his still coughing pet up by the collar and sat on the bed with him.

He pulled him into his lap, the sweet thing trembling and shaking as he tried to clear his lungs and recover from the harsh treatment. Vader petted his sweaty hair and cleaned his cum coated face with a blanket on the bed. Tears were still streaming down his big blue eyes as they gazed up at Vader, wobbly and in love.

“You keep crying and I do it again,” Vader threatened, wiping the tears away with his gloved thumb. He brought it up to his mouth and tasted the saltiness there. His pet curled in on himself and tucked his head against Vader’s chest, as if trying to hid the tears from him.

It was all too perfect. A gift from the Force to Vader, but one used to control him as he found himself willing to bend more and more to his pet’s desires.

Chapter Text

It seemed that in the light of their silent escape from Tatooine, word still got out about it because suddenly there was an official bounty on Vader’s head. Vader, not Obi-Wan. It was a picture Obi-Wan had never seen before, a very old one that looked distinctly more Anakin than Vader. He was still angry looking in the picture, but he looked young and what was even worse for Obi-Wan was that his eyes were blue still.

Obi-Wan didn’t know for sure that his eyes had been blue until this moment. He’d been hoping his dreams weren’t Force visions until now, but it was hard to dispute them.

“Force,” Vader had grumbled when the bounty came through. “I guess it has been that long since he snuck a picture of me.”

“Who?” Obi-Wan asked, feeling like he was missing an important part of the story. Vader looked over, staring at Obi-Wan like he was a child.

“Sidious,” the older man said like it should have been obvious to Obi-Wan that his old Master placed a bounty on his head. That didn’t seem like something someone would do who claimed to want their apprentice back.

“It—it says dead or alive!” Obi-Wan exclaimed, pointing to the bounty. “He would want you dead?”

“Oh, sweet thing, you know nothing,” Vader spoke like he was enamoured by how appalled Obi-Wan was. “It’s more fun when they think they can kill me.”

Obi-Wan should have known it would turn out like this: the pair of them running through a shitty backwater planet, dodging blaster fire and jumping over debris. He almost demanded why Vader didn’t do the whole thing he’d done before in the cave on Tatooine, but there was a giddy feeling flowing through their bond from Vader’s side.

He liked this. The thought was only further proved when Vader let out a feral whoop, like this whole thing was a game to him. It probably was, even as Obi-Wan wasn’t particularly fond of being shot at. This was the third planet in the month since the bounty had been placed that they had to evacuate in a blast of fire.

He was even less fond of feeling a sharp searing pain nearly blast through the back of his knee. Obi-Wan went down hard, his stride broken by the shot to the leg and his body tumbling to the ground. The momentum of his running made him roll across the ground, gravel and dirt ripping his skin.

Obi-Wan heard Vader skid to a stop, but he stared a little blankly up at the blue sky, confused as to what happened. A spike of anger erupted from where Vader was, causing Obi-Wan to move finally. He realized their blasters were set to stun as his leg was entirely numb from the knee down.

Vader’s hand was thrown out towards the beings shooting at them, most likely manipulating the Force to fling them back, but Obi-Wan could only focus on trying to get his footing when one of his feet didn’t work. He tried to harness the Force, to use it as a sort of splint around his leg, but the second he stood another shot was taken at him.

Obi-Wan’s entire world was rocked as he fell forward, head spinning and vision blacking out.

When he came to next, he was being jostled, pressed against a big warm chest.

“What--?”

“Shut up,” a voice snapped. Obi-Wan flinched, trying to place the voice in the haze of fog surrounding his brain. “These ones are smarter than the others. They went straight for you.” The words hardly made any sense to Obi-Wan, but he could finally see the fuzzy shape of who was holding him. He blinked slow and long, eyes closed for longer than he meant to. When he opened them again, gold eyes were looking down at him.

“Pretty,” Obi-Wan slurred, trying to reach up to touch. His hand felt like it was made out of lead though and it fell short of touching the chiseled jawline.

“You think so, little nebula?” The man asked distractedly, looking away from him and back out over his head.

“Nebula,” he repeated, nodding. Then, he lightly hit his palm on the broad chest. “Supernova.”

“They really fucked you up, didn’t they?” A chuckle from the gorgeous man. Obi-Wan hummed and blinked his eyes again, curling up against the man. He was safe. And when he opened his eyes again, after an eternity, head still swimming, he didn’t see the handsome man again.

It was distinctly different now. He was no longer outside but surrounded by durasteel walls. Obi-Wan’s head hurt so much as he desperately tried to get his bearings. It took too long for him to realize his legs were hiked in the air over shoulders.

Gold eyes peered up at him from between his legs and finally the wet feeling of a tongue at his rim dragged a moan from him as the pleasure pooling in his core made itself known. Obi-Wan gasped, a hand going down to grip at the bronze locks of hair as he was thoroughly eaten out. Vader was like a man starved as he devoured Obi-Wan whole.

How long had he been doing this? Had he done anything else while Obi-Wan was out of it? Did Obi-Wan really care?

His back arched, the thought of Vader fucking him while he wasn’t conscious making every nerve in his head sizzle that he wouldn’t be able to give his consent and Vader would still take him. Obi-Wan dashed the errant thought that Vader never needed his consent.

Obi-Wan came hard and suddenly, surprising himself as he ground down on Vader’s face. The man moaned in pleasure, making Obi-Wan’s orgasm ramp up that Vader wanted it just as much. When Obi-Wan made a mess of himself, Vader pulled back, licking his lips hungrily. He barely looked satiated.

“You make the most beautiful noises when you’re asleep,” Vader murmured, kissing the inside of Obi-Wan’s trembling thigh. “You like me taking what I want, whether you’re awake or not.” It was hardly a question but Obi-Wan still blushed and nodded.

“That’s my very good boy,” Vader smiled, all teeth and vicious. Obi-Wan’s hand drifted from Vader’s hair to the scar on his face. Vader understood the silent question: Was this going to be like last time? “Yes, sweet thing, I’m going to wring every last drop from you before I fuck you.”

His mouth went to Obi-Wan’s softening cock to coax it back to hardness, nearly making Obi-Wan see white with overstimulation.

Chapter Text

They fell out of hyperspace, the blue streaks stuttering to a halt. Shrieking alarms nearly deafened him as the lights changing to red to signal AUX power was flowing.

His pet shifted a little from his place on Vader’s lap. He had been sitting sideways, long legs over the arm of the chair, resting curled up against Vader’s chest as Vader played with his hair. He was obsessed his pet; he fucking loved his pet. So much so that he’d spent the last long moments twirling his hair around a finger and being mesmerized at how the colors looked under the lights of hyperspace.

Vader huffed in annoyance and leaned over to the console to slap a button to silence the alarms. The boy slid entirely from his lap and went to the co-pilots side, looking at the readings flying by on the terminal.

“I thought they hit us when we took off…” he mumbled to himself and Vader had to agree. He thought so too but he hadn’t been particularly worried about it. All readings had been nominal up until suddenly they weren’t, and he was too distracted by soft auburn hair.

Silently, Vader stood and left the cockpit. He could feel his darling’s eyes on him, but he was too annoyed to say anything. Too annoyed that he’d been distracted; too annoyed that they’d dropped out of hyperspeed and were floating aimlessly in space. It was all so inconvenient. He should have gone to the next planet over and searched the ship over. His pet made him really fucking stupid.

Vader grabbed the tools he’d probably need to fix the power and stalked back to just outside the cockpit. With a loud clatter, he messily dropped the box of tools, making the boy in the co-pilots chair jump.

“Come,” Vader motioned at him. On delicate feet, he padded over. Vader’s heart clenched at the sight, making him want to smack himself. He looked so small, barefoot and wearing some tan robes he’d picked out at the last planet they were on. Blue eyes blinked at him, waiting for the next order. In a fit of anger, Vader crouched and wrapped his mechno hand around the floor grate, yanking the durasteel up to reveal the insides of the ship.

With a deep frown, Vader hopped down into it and began scrounging around.

“Do you… need me to do something?” His pet asked, sounding more unsure about this than he did about anything these days. The young man could tell Vader to fuck off with all the confidence in the world but he sounded uncomfortable about standing next to Vader while he worked.

“Stay there. I’ll tell you when I need things from that box,” Vader lifted a hand to gesture to the box of tools before going back to pick around the wires. He could practically feel the Force bloom with pleasure when his pet realized that Vader would rather have him hand him things than use the Force.

The next time Vader popped his head out of the space he was working in, his darling was seated on the ground next to the box, looking too eager to help. Blue eyes lit up when they made eye contact. He held out his hand.

“Hydrospanner,” was all he said, thoroughly assuming the young man knew what that was. He was pleasantly surprised when he watched him grab the correct tool. But his pet leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on Vader’s lips before dropping it into his outstretched hand. The young man looked far too pleased with himself as he sat back down and watched Vader blink dumbly.

It was so domestic of him.

Vader didn’t say anything as he shimmed back down into the guts of the ship to attempt to reroute power. Each time he went to get another tool, he got a kiss, but each time his pet looked more and more miserable.

It was taking a long time and the temperature was dropping quickly in the ship. By the time several hours passed and he checked on the boy, he was laying on his side, arms wrapped around him, shivering. He blinked slowly and Vader cringed internally. After the stun bolt to the head last month, his pet was more susceptible to certain things than he had been before. Or maybe Vader just didn’t know that he’d always been susceptible to things such as stun bolts or temperatures as cold as space slowly invading their ship.

Vader kept himself warm with the dark side, unbothered by much that was going on around him, but his pet’s teeth were chattering and he looked like he was dozing off.

“Come here, sweet thing,” Vader stood up a little more, reaching out with both hands to drag his darling over to him. The boy didn’t even move as he was dragged along the durasteel floor, his eyes closing for longer than they should. “It’s going to be a tight squeeze.”

He manhandled his pet down into the open grate with him, situating the shivering boy to be seated in his lap once more, arms bracketing him in. He had to reach around him to continue working, the pace much slower than before with the added obstacle.

“Hey,” Vader’s voice was softer than he meant for it to be. “Stay awake. I almost have it.” That was a lie as he decidedly didn’t have it worked out still. It was much harder to fix external damage when he could only do it from the inside. A small grumbling noise came from the small body pressed against him and white tinged fingers came up to grab at the front of his robes.

“’S cold,” he slurred a little and Vader cursed every single god that existed for ever deciding to listen to his pet to leave their home on Tatooine. Two times in as many months this boy was probably going to suffer from some sort of brain damage because Vader couldn’t remember how normal beings reacted to things.

“Keep talking,” Vader said distractedly. “Tell me about your life on Coruscant.”

“Coruscant?” his darling asked, eyes closing again. “I had a friend there but I can’t tell you his name. You’ll probably kill him.” Vader snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Smart. Tell me more.” Vader listened with more intent than he thought he would, eating up every detail he could. Had he wanted to know about his pet’s favorite food place before? That didn’t seem like knowledge he needed to know.

It was when his pet dozed off, fingernails and lips blue, that Vader finally got a temporary fix in place. The lights flickered on and the ship beeped back to life, but the boy in his lap didn’t wake up. He knew his pet was asleep, their bond still intact and sluggish, but it didn’t stop the panic that boiled to the surface.

Vader wrapped both arms tightly around his pet, cradling him close, climbing out of the grate. He went to their bedroom and grabbed all the blankets to wrap around both of them, trying to trap as much body heat as possible between them. It felt like his pet was sucking the warmth from him when frigid little hands shakily pushed his tunic aside and touched his abdomen. He carried the boy back up to the cockpit, wrapped in multiple blankets and sat down to input new coordinates to a planet with a port to fix the ship at.

Vader pulled his glove off his flesh hand with his teeth before threading his fingers through his pet’s hair, holding his head against his chest, sharing the skin to skin contact. He glared angrily out the window as the ship jumped back into hyperdrive.

He was such a fool.

Chapter Text

It started out unusual. Vader gripped his chin, tilted his head up, and kissed him. It was soft and yearning and Obi-Wan felt adrift.

“You’ve been so good for me,” Vader murmured softly. He hadn’t. Everything Vader ever said was contrary to that. But Vader must have been in a good mood since they’d managed to stay safely tucked away in a pocket of the galaxy uninterrupted for a month by Sidious’s bounty hunters. Obi-Wan was in a good mood too if he was being honest.

He hadn’t gotten shot at in a while.

Obi-Wan returned the kiss, pouring all the love and light into it as he could. Big hands cupped his backside, patting it lightly in the universal signal for up. Obi-Wan rested his hands on Vader’s shoulders and jumped to wrap his legs around Vader’s waist. His hands held him up easily.

It was perfect with their chests flush against each other, Vader nibbling at Obi-Wan’s bottom lip like he was asking for entrance. Slowly, Obi-Wan opened his mouth, wondering if that’s what he wanted.

A searching tongue pushed into his mouth but… it was gentle. It mapped the backs of his teeth and caressed his own tongue and Obi-Wan wondered if this would be the first time Vader was kind to him.

He was carried across the room – they’d rented a room in the smallest town on this planet, doing their best to stay hidden; living in some strange domestic purgatory – to where their bed was and set Obi-Wan down on the edge of it. He wasn’t dropped, he was placed like he would break.

“Don’t touch yourself,” Vader said when he finally broke the kiss. Obi-Wan already felt lightheaded but nodded to the older man who untangled Obi-Wan’s legs and spread them apart.

This, this was familiar. He’d fuck him and be done with it. But Obi-Wan watched as Vader crouched between his legs, heart kicking up a notch. Slowly, one finger at a time, Vader took his gloves off. The flesh hand was revealed first, then the mechno one; the gloves were tossed away. Skin on skin made Obi-Wan’s hair stand on end as Vader hooked his forefinger in the waistband of his pants.

Obi-Wan put both hands back on the bed to balance as he lifted his lips for Vader to pull his pants down. The older man took everything with them – typical – leaving him bare from the bottom down. He gasped as Anakin’s warm fingertips dragged along his half hard cock. That was about all it took for him to harden all the way; it was almost embarrassing. Almost.

“Take the rest of it off,” Anakin commanded while he leaned forward. Hot, wet kisses were placed on the insides of Obi-Wan’s thighs. His brain was having a hard time following orders as his hands fumbled several times to get his tunics off. It was only once he was naked that he realized Anakin was still fully clothed. He fidgeted a little but placed his hands back on the bed, watching the older man.

He was taking his time, sucking a bruise into the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, tingling pleasure shooting straight to his cock.

“Look at you,” Anakin looked up as he spoke and the image was seared into Obi-Wan’s brain. Anakin, his Sith lord, on his knees looking up at him with love in his eyes. He loved him, a nobody from the Jedi Temple. “Following my orders so easily. I’m going to make you feel so good, sweet thing, and I don’t want you to do anything but take your pleasure from me.”

A feral spike of lust threaded through their bond.

"You deserve this," Anakin all but purred.

Obi-Wan blinked, mind going entirely blank. Head empty, no thoughts, Anakin’s mechno hand coming up to splay over Obi-Wan’s sternum and pushing him back onto the bed. As he fell, Anakin licked a stripe up the underside of his cock. A sharp moan was ripped from Obi-Wan’s lungs; Anakin hummed his approval.

Wet warmth enveloped the head of his cock and Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut. Slowly, so agonizingly slowly, that heat licked down his length until he was consumed by Anakin. He could feel his tongue along the underside and the head of his cock drag against he palate of his mouth. Then, into that tight throat.

Of course, Anakin wouldn’t have a gag reflex. He seemed to thrive off when he could make Obi-Wan gag around his cock, it only made sense that he was denied the same sensation. He made it look so easy to deepthroat him.

Obi-Wan only had a second to be jealous before Anakin pulled back, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked the entire way back up.

“Ah,” Obi-Wan moaned, hands fisting into the sheets under him as Anakin began sucking him in earnest. It was a quick thing, bringing him to the edge of his orgasm, only to be denied when Anakin pulled away from him entirely.

Desperation filled Obi-Wan as he looked down at Anakin abruptly. A sly smile was on his face, his beautiful, annoying fucking face. A string of saliva connected Anakin’s lips to his cockhead. That sight by itself made him want to cum, but only gentle, teasing fingertips touched around his knees and thighs while Anakin waited for him to come down.

Understanding dawned and Obi-Wan squirmed a little with the knowledge that Vader was a cruel man and would deny him his orgasm until he cried. That sly smile got wider across Vader’s face.

“That’s right,” he said like he could hear Obi-Wan’s thoughts. “Cry for it, little nebula, and I’ll let you cum.” Then he descended on Obi-Wan’s cock again, taking it to the hilt and causing him to cry out.