#{{ make them feel his pain if you'll add his empathy here :^) }} | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

satingrove · 4 years

Text

the hours

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x reader

summary: obi-wan pays you a visit before leaving for kamino

content: uhh SOFTNESS, fluff, a cute obi-wan and youngling moment, steamy meditation, more fluff, aotc obi rights, no gender specification

wc: 3.136k :’)

Lost a planet, Master Obi-Wan has. How embarrassing... How embarrassing.

He had one important trip to make before seeking out said planet.

Obi-Wan nods to those who pass him by, walking briskly through the Temple with his hands clasped in front of him, thinking on Yoda's other (more helpful) words, go to the center of gravity's pull and find your planet, you will. It would still be a while before he did so.

He nears an opening of transparisteel, scratching his beard and peering out of it - as if Kamino would appear in the sky, knowing it was sought after. But it's not there, as expected.

Sighing, Obi-Wan closes his eyes, focusing on the surrounding energy, the swirls of air and the sound of quiet walking, trying to single out a presence by the trace of a Force Signature. He gets just a whisper of it when his attention is broken by two small hands tugging at his cloak.

"Obi-Wan!"

Katooni, a youngling Tholothian, starts to wrap her short arms around Obi's leg, who chuckles in return. His hand comes to rest on her head.

"Little one, are you supposed to be in the library with the others?" Obi-Wan doesn't take an accusatory tone - it's laced with amusement at the youngling petting at his calf.

Katooni turns shy, hiding her face and slowly trying to inch away. The taller of the two crouches, his cloak pooling generously around him at the floor. Obi-Wan meets her at eye level, ensuring her comfort.

"I'm not here to get you into trouble, Katooni. Is that where you're supposed to be?" He displays clear and attentive empathy, though not without a trace of austerity.

Slowly, delayed by gentle shame, the Tholothian's head nods up and down.

"I was just taking a walk for a break, Master Kenobi."

He smiles, rising to stand and extending his pinkie to her, "Then I suppose I'll accompany you back, young one?"

She takes it with a soothed giggle, and he realizes the words that stuck with him from so many months ago, ones you had uttered, were perhaps true - he was indeed favoured among the young ones of the Temple, and it's more evident now than it had been before - Katooni isn't fretting about going back to the library to read up on ancient texts; she's content holding his pinkie with her whole hand, skipping twice to each step he takes.

And Obi-Wan supposes that it isn't a bad thing; to be admired in such ways, yet he does worry about the influence he gives. Was it respectable enough? He never thought he'd earned the right to be idolized. Then again, the child grasping his finger does warm his heart.

The fretting about rightful heroism is soon behind him, what with the more pressing matters on his hands - a voyage to a (seemingly) non-existent planet, and before that, a visit to his dearest.

Obi-Wan crouches before Katooni a second time, just shy of the library.

"I need you to tell me something very important before you go," he sets up his question in an enthusiastic whisper - a secret from everyone else in the Temple. Lightheartedly, he pokes her shoulder, "Have you seen my friend?"

"Oh, I have!" Katooni starts, excited that she had an answer, "I last saw them heading that way, before-" and then she stops, ears starting to burn with the heat of embarrassment. But it's all Obi-Wan needs to know. You'll be in your quarters.

"Ah, before you ran into me and tugged my poor cloak?" His right eyebrow raises.

"Mhm!" She chortles, almost proud of herself. Obi-Wan gives her the warmest of smiles.

"It would be best to stay in there this time." He motions to the library, softly stern, "Although, I'm not exactly sure how you escaped in the first place." Winking, a final gesture to let her know that he's not mad, he makes to cross the hallway.

Obi-Wan hardly turns the corner before Katooni yells her sweetest "thank you!" to him, scurrying back into the vastness of history books. As he weaves his way through those high-ceiling corridors, he ponders the affection he's always given. Had the little ones seen him as a father figure? He wasn't even positive what that was supposed to mean - although, Qui-Gon was the closest he'd ever had to one. The thought stings him for a second, a brief pain in his chest, and he brushes it off with his well-known stoicism, ready to fall into your arms instead for one restoring night.

Hood drawn up, he ensures the space around him is empty, pressing the button to your door. Unusually, he hadn't knocked, yet he slips in as it hisses open.

A sigh of relief blows through his pursed lips at his successful venture to forbidden grounds; and like clockwork, his arms fold as he leans his side into the wall. He smirks when you finally see him.

"Maker, I wasn't expecting you-" Your hand on your heart almost worries him.

"Am I not welcome?" He asks quizzically, looking particularly regal, features made dark by the shadow of his hood. Jedi Knight was a rightfully chosen word.

He knew he was indeed welcome.

"Oh, don't be a fool." You kiss his lips in a short but sweet peck, tangling your fingers in the length of his auburn hair and taking his hood down. It's not enough for him.

"You'll have to kiss me longer than that." He talks low and deep against your lips, pressing them back together for a lingering moment. As it consumes your senses, it releases all of his pesky, pent up stresses. His whimper lights up your insides.

As you come apart for the second time, his hand finds the back of your neck to cradle it delicately, eyes switching between your left and right. "What if I am a fool?"

You jab a finger into his side, "You're not", and he huffs.

"Coming here, I'd say so." He waits with an expectant look, one that makes his eyes crinkle with the smile he's trying to put off.

"Hey!" You swat at his shoulder and he takes it with exuberance, "we're careful enough about it."

Unwittingly, you try walking back to your notebook, in which you were scrawling details about deadly Felucian spore plants.

"Oh, are we?" His hands catch your waist, bringing your back swiftly to his chest. Hands creep under your clothing and caress your bare skin.

It instantly makes you weak against him, powerless to put any stop to it, and you let him continue his loving, handsy, research of your body. "Would you prefer we do this outside?" His mouth is dangerously close to nipping your ear.

"Obi-Wan..." You whine, only giving him extra incentive.

"I thought we were careful enough..."

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck, his head lazily falling into yours. Carefully, he places open-mouthed kisses all along your collarbone. He's not thinking about Kamino, nor how he'll get there. It's all forgotten as he adores you with his lips.

It feels so soft and elegant, he's so soft and elegant, but even as he's lost in his amorous deeds, the nature of his visit hasn't escaped you yet. Secrecy lead you to plan specific times to indulge in each other, although here he is, a doting surprise.

You reluctantly hum a pushy sound. He stops his movements but his lips stay connected to you. Obi-Wan hums a questioning hmm? in return.

"Did you have something to tell me?" You take him by the shoulders, all of a sudden worried that he most likely did and that it wouldn't be your favourite piece of news.

"Oh," he grumbles in slight annoyance, not at you but at the thought of leaving you in a few hours' time. "Yes, love, I did come to speak with you about something."

Your stomach drops, something he senses, and he hurriedly implores you not to panic. Taking both your hands in his, he leads you to your bed and sits down with you on its plush mattress.

He gets on with it, "I'll be leaving soon," starting slowly, gauging your reactions, "to look for a planet erased from the archives. I don't know what I may come into contact with."

The something he came to talk about doesn't startle you as much as you'd expected. Obi-Wan is a very capable Jedi, and he usually left little room for you to fret over his well-being. That said, you did anyway, all the time. His penchant for being mouthy at odds happened to cost him some blood, but this seemed as normal a job as any.

"I came to tell you," he brushes a piece of hair behind your ear, eyes following it, then meeting your gaze again, "and spend the rest of the time I have with you."

His lips envelop yours once more, this time with more bursting energy, eagerly as having an itch that couldn't be scratched. And then it all turns soft, his hair tickling your cheek as he rubs his face along your neck, taking in your scent and trying to memorize it to the best of his ability.

"How long is that?" You ask, ruffling his neat, long hair.

"Few hours." He mumbles into your skin, beard scratching against it but it's nothing you mind. "Almost the night." He adds.

The night.

"You know, I'll have to be very centered when I leave."

You do know, and it means he'll want to meditate for a while.

"Of course," your hand finds his cheek, the scruff soft under your palm, "take your time."

Obi-Wan is grateful for your constant understanding, but he has other plans - he never meant to come into your quarters to deny you his attention. You're glad to have him near regardless of what he does, yet his hand rests on your thigh and his eyes turn pleading.

"I thought you could join me." It's less of a question and more of an implication. An implication that it wasn't going to be a traditional meditation session.

You can't muster a proper response, a quiet oh coming out in its place. And as words fail you, you nod your head in agreement. Enthusiastically.

"Very well." He whispers hot against your skin, moving his head from it and standing up - except he starts to take off his cloak and utility belt. A breathy noise, and you earn yourself an amused look from him. "What? Would you rather do it for me?"

You smile charmingly, feet gently kicking at his shins, "Is that what you want?"

And he feels it again. The need to make his love known.

"I couldn't say no, darling." It leaves his chest in a hum, body leaning down for his lips to touch your forehead. Your fingers hook onto his belt, tugging him towards you and threatening to make him topple onto the mattress. He grumbles in happy exasperation, the kind that leaves him feeling overwhelmingly fond of you as you pull it off of him and neatly lay it on the sheets. He smiles at the care you give to himself and his possessions.

His fingers trace the edges of his wrap. He gathers some of it and holds it out to you. Your eyes narrow.

"More?" Your hands slowly extend to the fabric.

"Won't you?" He asks, and you sense a trace of timidity in it that makes your cheeks burn. To have flustered Obi-Wan again, for who knows how many times it's been now - you feel precious. And to him, you were just that.

The back of his hand slips gingerly down your face as you pull, the fabric wrap starting to fall off his shoulders, leaving him in his undershirt. You ravel it around your wrists and lay it beside his belt.

"That's better, thank you." He pushes the sleeves up to his elbows, the fabric loose and airy on his body, and he's effortlessly handsome.

You feebly try not to ogle him, but he's loosened the collar and his chest peeks through the linen, the image romantic on its own. He feels your stare, chuckling sweetly at your enamoured face, "I feel warm when I'm with you," giving a reason to his lack of layers.

You feel warm, too. Obi-Wan guides you to stand - ever the gentleman - and doesn't let you go while he rolls out your intricate rug from Jakku that had been sitting in the corner. Then he does let go of you, sitting down with his legs in front of him, hair falling princely on his forehead.

"Sit, my love." He motions his head, tilting it towards the spot in front of him. You're not sure why he's not sitting cross-legged, but you follow his lead and sit before him with a straight back.

"No, no. Closer." You inch forward. He extends his cheek out to you with closed eyes, waiting for his kiss. It comes as second nature to you, without a second thought, giggling quietly as you peck his face and he joins the laughter when he feels it. "Now, turn around."

How was this going to go?

You throw him a look, to which he nods his head rigidly. Turning your body before him, everything then becomes a soft and serene blur, laced with every drop of love you held for the other. His arms pull you snug against his front, chin hooking onto your shoulder.

He inhales and exhales deeply along with you, chest firm against your back, bodies moulding.

"That's it," he coos, hands pressing against your stomach, "breathe with me, feel everything..."

All you can do is what he says. The act is new but the feeling isn’t foreign; Obi-Wan’s arrays of intimacy are common, but this is different, the anticipation aloft and the touches silken.

There's the sound of air passing in through his nose. His head further lolls onto you, your lungs filling shakily, the feeling sweet and kind. Your wrists, your neck, seemingly everything has a throbbing pulse. Obi-Wan doesn't miss your wavering breaths, deft fingers making quick work of soothing your muscles.

"So tense... it's only me, darling."

His words surround you. Melodic and steady, "Let go."

You do, floating and falling.

You sense everything - the tide of his breathing, his gentle humming, the way he keeps you tight against him like he couldn't go without; the clement whispers, feeling perfectly flush with the man who brings you nothing but pure, good feelings - like it's the only thing he knows how to do - even as he does everything else with poise and taste.

This is no exception. The sensuality is tangible - the unknowing Jedi who roam the hallway outside could have felt it, should have felt it, if not for Obi-Wan's ability to be subtle about making you weak and entirely his.

"Trust me." He brushes up the column of your throat, cautiously bringing your head back into the crook of his neck as he cranes his own to make space. He notes the fluffy feeling of your hair, arm crossing your body. You murmur, "I always trust you."

Stars, if he didn't love to hear it.

"Tell me what you see when you close your eyes."

In the blackness, there comes nothing.

"I see- I don't see anything. I only feel you..."

And what did he expect?

There wasn't anything to see when there was so much to feel. His tender hand on your throat and his legs hugging yours, you stood no chance at finding an image in your mind.

"Good," he presses his face to yours, "nice, isn't it?"

You sigh, completely enveloped in him - it's physical and emotional. Obi-Wan groans lightly at your sound, further burying his face into your curve, trying to grapple that this wouldn't last forever.

And inevitably, the falling continues. The fog of slumber starts to cloud your head by Obi-Wan's effect, that which leaves you too calm to stay awake in his arms. Fighting it isn't of any use; his soothing energy had always been a mystery, what with its pleasant gentleness that is unassailable against your consciousness.

But the moment is too sweet to lose.

He exhales an ahh of acknowledgement for your perseverance in staying awake.

"Obi, I'm not sure how this is helping you clear your mind-"

He supposes he hadn't been clear himself - learning your body under the expanse of his palms, through the matching time of your breathing, was a meditation in itself.

"But it has, my love."

It all starts over again. The lush sensations and the rush of your heart. Your senses dialed with his fingertips pressed on your wrists, finding the rhythm of your aliveness; the only thing he would hope to be sure of in the coming years that neither of you expected yet.

You both reach a point of euphoric tranquility - two words you'd use to describe his company - chests expanding and deflating at the same, slow rate. It had come to an end.

"You did wonderfully for me." A lasting kiss on your neck as he savours it. His lips send you into pleasant, sunny rapture.

The occurrence leaves you in a hazy state, all that comfort pressed against you is taken away as you both rise, sleepily, happily, and stumble into your bed.

"I don't want to wake you when I leave," Obi-Wan says, considerately and kind, propped up over you on his elbows, "I'll be careful."

"Don't be," and he melts, "I'd hate to miss you."

It’s the saccharine pieces of time that made him whole. Without another word, he kisses you; conveying the completeness that he feels by your hand, discreetly hungry but overshadowed by a chaste and giving nature. It's light and loving and drawn out long.

Then he falls grandly into the sheets beside you, arm heavily draping across your stomach, your lips missing his but you know he needs the sleep. And as the morning came, he was already gone. A vague memory of his departure floods your mind, playing over your closed eyelids - you can see it - the way he had kissed your temples, both lazily and warm, your arm semi-consciously reaching out to him, which his lips had touched too, held by both his hands.

What you hadn't seen, was Obi-Wan looming in the doorway, overseeing you drifting back to dreaming, cloak not keeping him nearly as warm as you did. He blew a kiss that you didn't catch, but knew that had you been awake, you'd have thrown it back to him.

He hopes Kamino will be a simple, touch and go engagement.

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