#obi wan x f!reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonlight-prose · 2 years

Text

♱ ENOUGH ♱

a/n: i churned this out in about an hour so i know it's probably not the best. none of these fics for kinktober are edited so hopefully they still make sense. this is fic one of two for obi-wan and i hope you enjoy it!

day eight - dry humping | kinktober 2022

summary: a simple conversation gives way to something more.

word count: 1.3k+

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x f!reader

warnings: MINORS DNI, dry humping, virgin!obi-wan, virgin!reader.

He was going to lose his mind the longer this continued. For months the two of you pretended that nothing existed between you both. As if you were afraid the second you acknowledged its presence it would suddenly vanish into thin air. Perhaps that was a possibility—neither of you would ever know.

Jedi weren’t meant to find pleasure in one another, they weren’t meant to seek out that part of themselves at all. Yet there you were, locked in an embrace that he found he didn’t want to get out of—choosing instead to grip at you harder, his head falling back against the chair. The day had been longer than you anticipated; training taking up most of your time and leaving you exhausted. But then you came here.

Originally all you wanted was to simply talk to him. Ask if there was anything you could do that would reduce the tiredness that coursed through your body with every passing day. He’d been a Jedi Master for some time now that you were sure he held a few tricks up his sleeve.

Yet two drinks and an hour of conversation somehow led you here, to this. Your head felt hazy from the scent of him flooding your nose, the alcohol burning through you quicker than you hoped. It was inevitable. You both knew this from the moment you met one another. You just wished there was more time in between being friends and somehow finding each other as lovers.

“I have to get back,” you mumbled into his neck, your lips tracing along the vein that stood out prominently with every twist of his head.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” he replied, his fingers digging into the fabric of your tunic that wrapped tightly around your hips.

The same hips that were rolling against his, sending small sparks up your spine each time your clothed clit rubbed against him. You’d been halfway through your second drink, watching him talk animatedly about a recent mission they sent him on with Master Windu. It struck you rather suddenly that you’d never seen a man more beautiful. The light color of his beard and hair perfectly matched the sparkling blue eyes that always seemed to light up in your presence.

Or maybe it was just your mind playing tricks on you.

You liked to believe he found joy in spending time with you the same way you did with him. Which is why you came here in the first place. Searching for that small bit of exhilaration you always found in his company. You just never expected it to be this.

“Does it—” His head lolled back, a grunt falling from his parted lips as you rolled your hips down harder.

“Hm?” Trying to rally any sense of clarity back to your mind felt like battling against a whole army. Although you found that the army would be much simpler to deal with than the arousal that flooded your body—numbing your brain.

“Does it always feel this good?” he asked, pushing your hips along his until he could feel a growing pressure build up in his spine.

Having never experienced it before, it nearly scared him, but the soft kisses you continued to press against his throat soothed him into a placid state of mind. Obi-Wan found that he couldn’t get enough of it. That he wanted all that you could give him, only to return it back to you tenfold. You bit down sharply on his neck, causing his hips to buck up into yours and the moan that was muffled into his skin made him break.

Shifting, he pushed you off his lap. The disappointed whine you made only spurred him to move quicker—desperate to have you under him rather than on top.

“Did I do something wrong?”

He never answered your question, grabbing for your hand instead and dragging you back onto the couch where he climbed over you. Each movement, touch, and noise came from a primal instinct in the back of his mind. He barely even knew if what he was doing was right, but the sounds you made and the expression on your face told him enough.

“Obi-Wan,” you gasped when his hips rolled downwards, his clothed cock pressing right where you needed him.

You wanted more—all that he could give you and then some. You were gluttonous for the sensations he wrought on your body; the haze giving way to only one thought. Him. Digging your nails into his clothed back, you crossed your ankles behind him, dragging him even closer. Each thrust of his hips against yours forced a whine from your throat and a growl from his.

Seeing him like this, his hair falling into his face and a red stain along his cheeks, shoved a searing heat through your veins. It was addicting. Feeling this amount of bliss as you watched him chase his—the blue in his eyes darkening to an almost navy hue.

“I want—” he cut himself off with a moan, his forehead falling to press against your own. “What is that?” he breathed.

Meeting his thrusts with ones of your own you knew that whatever this was, it wouldn’t last for much longer. You dug a hand into his hair, angling his lips so they were a hair's breadth away from your own. Even though you burned, needed to kiss him, you wouldn’t tonight. Not when you were both in this state, both desperate to finally feel that release you so achingly craved without knowing.

“I don’t know,” you gasped. “I–I want it too.”

He moaned, digging his face into your neck, his hips bucking wildly against your own. Until eventually you felt the pleasure in your body go taut, the coil snapping in two and sending you over the edge with a cry of his name. Grinding your hips against his, you did what you could to prolong the sensation that filled you, turning the haze in your mind into something else entirely.

Obi-Wan wasn’t far behind. One more shift of his hips into yours and felt it flood his body. A white-hot bliss he’d never experienced before had him moaning desperately into your neck, his eyes screwed shut as his cock throbbed in his pants. He’d worry about the stickiness left behind later. For now he had to remember how to move his limbs.

“Fuck,” you sighed, loosening your hold on his hair.

He finally raised his head after a few more minutes of catching his breath, a small smile on his flushed face. “That felt good,” he stated, his words almost slurring together even though all the alcohol was gone from his body the second you clambered into his lap.

You nodded, nose brushing against his. “I—I didn’t mean for things to get so—”

“Was it…did you like it?” His eyes were back to the cerulean blue you found yourself constantly mesmerized by. The question nearly slipped past you, but you heard him loud and clear.

“Yes!” Heat spread through your cheeks at the realization that you shouted the word at him.

It was him smiling so wide you were neatly blinded, did you understand that he liked it as well. That he perhaps…wanted it to happen again and again—unable to resist how enticing you were. Obi-Wan was not a weak man. Everyone knew this to be fact, but with you he found he would happily give in, refusing to even fight against the emotions you brought out of him.

You were his greatest strength and his biggest weakness and he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Leaning down, he brushed his lips against yours, the pull to kiss you much stronger than before. Only he knew that tonight would simply be you and him wrapped up in one another—too distracted to go any further—and that was enough for now.

#obi wan x reader #obi wan x you #obi wan x f!reader #obi wan x y/n #obi wan smut #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi x y/n #obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi smut #star wars #my writing #kinktober 2022

404 notes · View notes

tragedybunny · 1 year

Text

Early Morning Negotiation - Obi-Wan x F!Reader

Obi-Wan should probably get out of bed and start his day, Reader does not agree.

The morning sun of Coruscant is just peeking through the window of your apartment. You're one of the lucky ones that get to see it at all. As a Senator's aide, your housing needs to be at a proper level to easily get to your job at all hours of the day or night. It's not as grandiose as some apartments you've seen, but it is very nice. As the room begins to warm up, signaling the dawn of the new day, there's a stirring beside you. Inwardly, you sigh, knowing that means he'll be leaving soon. You weren't going to wake him up just yet, he never really gets as much rest as needs. In fact, sometimes you think he only really sleeps a good number of hours when he's here. Considering you hardly see each other anymore, that's not often. Rolling over to face where you sit at the edge of the bed running a brush through your hair, he looks up at you with sleepy eyes of the deepest blue. Those eyes have always managed to take your breath away, from the moment you first met at a Senate function he was obliged to attend. It was a magical night as you felt sparks fly between the two of you and abandoned the party for a dark corner where you talked, and did a little more than talking, for hours. "You could've woken me if you were up, I don't mind."

"Even a Jedi Master deserves to sleep in once in awhile Obi-Wan." He knows you feel he isn't taking care of himself, and though your voice is soft, he looks away guiltily. "See, you know I'm right."

"Well, there is a war on." He grumbles, beginning to sit up.

The blankets drop away, revealing that perfect form of his, and you bite your lip while staring. "That's no excuse. Maybe I should lock you in here and force you to relax for once."

Eyes now lighting up with mischief, he shoots you a grin. "And how would a little senator's aide like you prevent a Jedi Master like myself from leaving?"

"You're getting cocky Master Kenobi, you've underestimated me." Lunging at him you, you pin his shoulders to the bed, straddling his hips. Of course you know he let you do it. Still, you plant a fiery kiss on his lips, feeling desire stirring inside you.

"Hmm, well it would seem I have been outmaneuvered. I tell you what, I will surrender myself to stay in bed another hour on one condition."

"And that is?" You ask, knowing all too well what he will say.

"You stay in it with me." His arms wrap around your waist and with a swift movement he rolls, pining you under him.

"Impressive negotiation. I suppose I have no choice but to agree to your ter-." Your words are cut off by his lips and the tickle of his beard on your neck. Those lips began to travel further down. "This isn't resting Obi-Wan."

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x reader #f!reader #obi wan x f!reader #star wars fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing

198 notes · View notes

sleepingsun501 · 2 years

Text

Make It Last

Pairing(s): Obi-Wan Kenobi x F!Reader

Summary: Obi-Wan returns from the war and surprises you late one night.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: Contains SMUT 18+, oral sex, cunnilingus, PiV sex (wrap it!), orgasm delay, mind reading, foreplay, aftercare (ohhhh the aftercare), established relationship, secret relationship, fluff, love, inappropriate use of the Force. Plot? Don't know her.

Word Count: 4.2k (I know, I went nuts)

Ao3 link

A/N: MINORS GO AWAY!! And thank you once again discord people for being my inspiration!

When you fell asleep earlier in the night, you had not expected to be awakened by familiar, gentle fingers tracing your cheek. You shifted and squinted in the near-darkness, save for the lights of Coruscant’s skyline dimly streaming through your window, before you sleepily cracked an eye open. There was only one other person who had the codes to your apartment, and you could see a little hint of long reddish-gold hair and pale Jedi robes in the darkness.

“Hello there, my darling,” a gentle voice whispered.

Your eyes flew open immediately and you let out a happy, breathy squeal. You could barely see him, but you would know his voice anywhere. A rush of excitement rippled through you as you sat up and threw yourself into Obi-Wan’s waiting arms, pulling yourself up against his strong, solid frame.

Months had passed since you had last seen him. Every time he had put in a shore leave request for his legion, another crisis had arisen to rudely keep you apart. You had followed every scrap of news you could find about the 212th and its dashing Jedi General, praying they were all right, but now Obi-Wan was here—safe and home with you. You were so happy that you could barely think of anything to say to him as you hugged his broad shoulders.

Obi-Wan stood, lifting you straight out of bed with him. He shifted one of his arms from your shoulders and grasped you around your waist, pulling you more firmly against himself as he set you on your feet and kissed your cheek.

“I’ve missed you, sweetheart,” he whispered, inhaling deeply, burying his face in your shoulder and sweet-smelling hair. It’s been too long since I’ve held you like this. he thought, his beautiful voice echoing in your mind.

You shivered at the familiar sensation of him weaving through your consciousness, and you relaxed into it so he could sense your emotions fully. Tangling your fingers in his long hair, you tucked your nose further under his jaw, taking advantage of being shorter than him, and pressed your soft lips against his neck where his pulse beat steadily. He smelled so good—like the sweet tar of freshly polished leather and the warmth of amber and sunshine.

Obi-Wan dropped his other hand lower around your back and then glided it around your side to squeeze your hip tenderly underneath your nightshirt. Your skin tingled under his gentle fingertips, and his touch made a seductive warmth pool in your core.

The rough hair of his beard prickled pleasantly against your cheek as you eased back from him a little to find his lips in a delicate kiss. A spark of arousal shot through you as his tongue darted out to trace the curve of your bottom lip before invading your mouth. He inhaled sharply as he deepened the kiss, licking into you, and it wrung a quiet moan from your throat as the growing ache within you coiled and writhed.

I want you. your mind whispered to him, knowing he would hear. You had no idea how long you would have together before he was called back to the battlefield; maybe a few days or even just a few hours, but you burned for him all the same. That fierce heat settled and spread low in your belly as one of his hands locked around the back of your neck, and the rock-hard evidence of how much he had missed you was suddenly trapped tightly between you. You whined into his mouth as you ground your hips against him. Please, Obi-Wan, make this last.

Obi-Wan released you and shed his long outer robe. Even in the dimness of your room, the desire shining in his grey-blue eyes was unmistakable. That look bore a hole to the depths of your soul, and you gladly let him in.

You hooked your fingers into his belt, yanking him close again, and unfastened it with practiced ease, careful to place his lightsaber on your bedside table before returning to undressing him. Smirking lustfully at you, he allowed you to pull his robes and tunic off and lifted you into his arms again easily.

A playful giggle left you as he lowered you gently to the edge of your bed, helping you wiggle out of your pants. He sighed as knelt on the floor before you, gripping your smooth calves and pressing kisses along the insides of your thighs—his smokey gaze never leaving you.

“Oh, Maker… Obi-Wan…” you breathed shakily, shifting up and grabbing fistfuls of the soft blankets beneath you. His eyes were always so powerful, so expressive, and a tingle ran up your spine. You tensed your inner muscles in anticipation as you tried to assuage the aching, dampening discomfort between your legs, but he continued to press open-mouthed kisses to your silky skin, offering you no such relief.

“We’ve got time,” he whispered, taking a firmer grip on your thighs and coming up to capture your lips, sucking your bottom lip into his teeth and nipping hungrily. He ran a hand up your chest to undo the buttons on your nightshirt, freeing your supple breasts. His warm hands left what felt like trails of fire in their wake as they grazed over you, and you wondered if it was just your body reacting or some little Force trick he was using to tease you.

You shrugged out of your top as he made his way back down your body, latching briefly onto one of your hardened nipples, sucking gently and caressing it with his tongue. As he did, a twinge of pleasure shot from your nipple to your cunt, and you twisted your hips down into your bed with a moan. You loved how thorough he was, but the growing ache inside you was becoming unbearable.

Obi-Wan inhaled the sweet, almost citrusy warmth of your skin as he attentively kneaded your opposite breast and brushed his thumb over your nipple, pleased with the way it pebbled under his touch. You let out a longing sigh, gripping your blankets in one of your fists as you snaked your other hand between you.

His hips give an involuntary lurch forward as you pushed his pants down just enough to free his already leaking cock. He was hot and heavy and thick in your hand, and you could already imagine the delightful stretch of him inside you as you stroked him. He moaned as he licked at your skin, relishing the feeling of your hand as you started to twist your fist down his length as you pumped him. You pushed him away as you ran your thumb over his swollen tip and gathered the bit of precum that had gathered there. His lust-blown eyes locked with yours as you sucked him off your thumb, sighing in satisfaction at the slightly salty tang of him.

A devilish smirk crossed his handsome face as he watched you taste him, and it reached his darkening eyes. That was what you had hoped to see; not the prim and proper Jedi Knight, but the powerful, daring, cunning warrior that was always held at bay beneath the surface.

“Lay back for me, my darling,” he whispered. His voice had taken on a sultry, huskier, almost commanding tone, sending a thrill through your chest. “My turn to taste you.”

You laid back to prop yourself up on your elbows as he shifted further down, pulling your soaked underwear with him. As he eased your last article of clothing off, you caught a glimpse of the deep love he harbored in his heart for you sparkling behind his eyes.

He stared at you for a moment, just admiring your naked beauty in the low light, but with a deep breath, he dove between your parted thighs. His tongue dipped through your folds to take a long taste of you, drowning himself in your delicious heat.

“Ohhh—oh… f-fuck!” you moaned. A string of unintelligible curses left your lips as you trembled with pleasure from his hot mouth on you. He devoured you like you were the most delectable thing he had ever tasted, and you lost your balance as he pulled you closer. Your back hit the soft bed as he lifted your hips to his mouth, licking deep into your dripping cunt and bumping your clit with his nose at the new angle.

He could feel your pulse in your soaking walls as he replaced his tongue with his long, thick middle finger. The change had you crying out softly and writhing beneath him as he encircled your sensitive bundle of nerves with his lips. You dug your heels into his back to encourage him to give you more as the mounting pressure in your core threatened to overwhelm you, but he hummed gently and continued his torturously slow, methodical pace.

Still taking his damn time, he started pressing against that spongey spot just past your entrance that he knew would make you see stars. He busied his other arm with wrapping around your thigh and across your abdomen, holding you to his mouth and keeping you from squirming. You cried out as he pressed down on your lower belly, increasing the pressure inside you, and he began curling his finger to stroke that sensitive spot again and again.

Fucking stars—oh yes… Yesyesyesyesyes! your mind screamed and cursed as your legs began to quake against him. He could sense your pleasure, and it made his cock throb and ache with need as he worked a second finger into you and continued his onslaught.

He could tell you were getting impatient from the way you took a handful of his hair and tugged, and your thighs tensed on his shoulders as you bucked against his mouth. Obi-Wan growled lowly, actually sounding like he was admonishing you, and pressed down harder on your belly to increase the pressure inside you even more.

You felt like you were ready to explode—like you should have cum already, but he just held you there on the edge of that cliff. Your soft moans from before had turned desperate as you whimpered needily, and he shuddered as your nails grazed his scalp with one hand and dug into his hard forearm with the other.

Focusing the Force like a laser, he made his thoughts known to you. So beautiful… so sweet… fuck, you taste like home. You were already so wet… you’ve been so neglected, haven’t you? My poor darling, let me give you what you need.

Lights were exploding behind your eyes as Obi-Wan began flicking his tongue and curling his fingers faster, making you clamp your hand over your mouth to muffle the little screams escaping you.

None of that. I want to hear you. Suddenly, you felt your hand snap away from your mouth and into his grasp. Had he just—? He did. The cheeky bastard used the Force to pull your hand to his and press it back to your lower belly, trapping it there. Come on, let me hear you. Tell me what you need.

“You! Obi-Wan… I-I want you!” you wailed. You were suddenly grateful your bedroom was at the far corner of your apartment, away from any neighboring walls. “I’m so close… p-please…”

I can hold you here all night, my darling. Tell me what you want from me.

It was then you realized what he was doing. You could hear it in his tone in your head; he was purposefully holding back your orgasm with some power unknown to you, his mouth never once leaving your folds, making it last just like you had asked him to.

“Please—fucking hell—Obi-Wan!” you were almost embarrassed at how needy you sounded, but you could not help it, not with him. “Let me cum… I—huhhh—I can’t… t-take it. I need to c-cum… let me…” you begged incoherently through desperate gasps and moans. Tears of pleasure began to slide down your flushed cheeks, and you felt like you were ready to pass out if he kept this up any longer, but he hummed in satisfaction against your clit and plunged his fingers inside you to the knuckle.

Something—you were not sure what—but something in the air hovering just above your skin snapped and dissipated. As it did, you felt your throbbing walls finally tighten and flutter around his fingers, drenching his hand and mouth in your wetness. The blissful, dizzying, borderline painful relief of your orgasm crashed over you in pulsing waves of hot and cold, deafening you to your resounding scream of ecstasy. Your entire body spasmed and shook as Obi-Wan held you in place, lapping you up and helping you ride out the waves.

Your head lolled to the side after some time as you began to come down from that intense high, and you just caught a glimpse of your alarm clock glowing faintly on your night table next to his lightsaber. Despite not being able to think clearly, you could have sworn nearly half an hour had passed, and you praised his endless patience. Make it last, indeed. Show-off. you thought amusedly. You could not help the giddy little laugh that escaped you as you looked back at him.

His lips and beard were shining with your moisture as he locked eyes with you again, sucking his fingers clean. The thunderous passion in his eyes was so intoxicating that you had not noticed he had removed the rest of his clothing. You yelped in surprise when he yanked you off the bed and into his strong arms, spinning around to sit on the edge of the bed himself.

“Feel good?” he asked, smiling and whispering against your ear.

You nodded and shuddered pleasantly as his breath washed over the overheated skin of your neck, and he positioned you to straddle his lap. His normally gentle hands were kneading the soft flesh of your ass as he did, and you wanted nothing more than for him to spear you on his cock and split you in half with it.

Nipping at your ear and groaning, he whispered, “I need to hear you say it, my dear.”

You were still trembling, but you smiled and nodded. His voice was an entire octave lower than normal, and you let that low, sinful timbre vibrate through you. “Fuck me, Obi-Wan,” you whined, beginning to grind your soaking slit along his throbbing cock. “Fuck me and don’t stop.”

Even as prepared as you were, you both knew this had to be done slowly. Despite all the times you had ever been together, he was always conscious of your needs and knew you needed time to adjust to his size, so he let you set the pace. You captured his lips, tasting yourself on him and moaning as he lifted you onto your knees, positioning himself at your entrance. Very carefully, he rocked your hips down onto him, easing himself in and stretching you open.

Your slick walls were suffocatingly tight as he sheathed himself within you as far as he could. He rested his forehead against yours and you braced your arms on his shoulders as you took him. With your lip caught between your teeth, you took the lead and undulated your hips a few times, feeling every ridge and vein of him, carefully easing the last inch of him in.

He groaned into your neck and savored the feeling of being buried within your exquisite warmth, wishing he would never have to be parted from you. You were his sanctuary, his love, his little secret away from his life as a Jedi.

“Easy, love,” he cooed. “Easy. Take your time.” He lifted you again, helping your shaking legs support you as you started riding him. The length of his thick cock let him touch an even sweeter spot deeper inside you, and it sent pure bliss from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes.

Time seemed to stand still and speed up as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in even closer. You clung to his strong back, raking your nails lightly over the hard muscles beneath his pale skin—urging him to thrust his hips with your rhythm while he caressed your body with rough, practiced hands.

Sooner than expected, you felt yourself begin to teeter on that blissful edge again. That familiar coil low in your pelvis wound itself tighter, but you needed more. Throwing that to the forefront of your mind, you knew Obi-Wan would sense it.

“I’ve—nghh—I’ve got you… I’ve got you, darling. Let me hear you,” he breathed raggedly, feeling your walls squeeze him and making you moan desperately.

He never released your hips, but you felt a soft swirl of pressure on your now overly-sensitive clit. His invisible ministrations through the Force sent a new spark of need through you, and he could feel you becoming impossibly wetter around him.

You managed to push him on his back and grind your hips down harder, letting him rub gentle circles over your sensitive bud with the pad of his thumb instead. It was not long before your whimpers became steady, pleasured cries when you thrust yourself down. You were close, so very close, and the feverish heat deep within your core threatened to explode a second time.

“There you go… my good girl. That’s it… that’s it,” Obi-Wan suddenly said, his voice deep and sultry with the crisp Coruscanti accent on his tongue. He rolled his hips up to encourage you as you met his gaze, and he braced his hand beneath one of your breasts to support you, running his thumb over your sensitive nipple again and again. “Come on… just like that, sweetheart. Let it go for me.”

His words unraveled the aching coil that had been building within you. You tossed your head back and cried out his name as the euphoria overwhelmed your senses for a second time. Your body convulsed as your hips locked down on him, and your walls spasmed and clenched around his cock. You cried out again as he thrust up and continued to fuck you through it, shredding against raw heaven deep within you.

The sound of your voice calling out his name in ecstasy drew a dark shred of pure desire out of Obi-Wan—something he normally would have had well in check. While your cunt still pulsed around him, he sat up quickly and maneuvered you onto your back, settling into an agonizingly perfect, steady rhythm. His teeth nipped at your neck and breasts, sucking little marks into your dewy skin, intermingling with featherlight kisses.

“That’s my girl,” he praised. “My precious girl. You’re doing so well… so proud of you.”

His words were like the most beautiful music to you, making your cunt suck him in deeper. Even as your peak raged through you, you could feel and hear just how much he was holding back, wanting to draw it out for you as long as he could. He wanted to give you the memory of his body against yours to sustain you through his absences, and to remember how you felt around him during the long lonely nights on the battlefield.

You parted your lips invitingly and pulled him down to you, dragging your nails lightly over his broad shoulders again. As your tongues battled in the kiss, you felt him tremble and groan from his core, making his hips stutter before finding his torturous rhythm again.

He grabbed your hips more firmly with one hand to encourage your movements and braced himself above you on his other arm. You wrapped her legs around him to urge him on, and you arched yourself against him as the white-hot pulsing in your limbs eventually subsided.

You were feeling drained and relieved, as though you could simply drift away beneath him, but he seemed determined to drag yet another orgasm out of you. “One more, sweetheart… One more… one… more…” He started to let go of his control as he hammered his hips into yours, and all you could do was hang on.

“I-I want t— ah— feel y-you,” you gasped into his mouth, “d-deeper—Obi-Wan, please…” You were not sure where your words came from, but he complied without hesitation and without breaking his pace. He reached above you and grabbed one of your plush pillows, shoving it under your gorgeous ass to give you the angle you desired.

Tears of ecstasy rolled down your cheeks, and your nails were digging into his back now, scraping his skin with each thrust. He could not hide the fact that he craved that sensation as he began to throb within you.

“Give me everything, I want every drop of you inside me,” you begged. You reached for one of his hands, lacing your fingers in his.

“It’s all yours… all yours,�� he panted, gripping your hand tightly and letting his body weight press into you. “My beautiful darling. You take me so well.”

You licked at his sweaty skin where his strained neck met his shoulder and nibbled on him just enough to leave a mark, and he growled low through gritted teeth. The deep rumbling in his chest and his length hitting every tender spot within you sent you over the edge again unexpectedly. It ripped through you like a tidal wave, blocking out everything except for the feeling of your bodies meshed together. You were so dazed that you could not even cry out—you could only let your mouth fall open and let the tremors of bliss seize you.

Obi-Wan felt the last of his control slip away as your soaking walls sucked him in again, and he erupted hard within you with a shout of your name. He clutched your hand and stayed buried within you, his body jolting as he filled you with rope after rope of his cum until it dripped between you.

You lay there together for some time in the darkness, sweaty and exhausted, panting from your exertions and wrapped up in each other. With a sigh, he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face and nuzzled against you lovingly. As he slipped out of you and stood, you heard him mumble something about you staying put. Not like you had many other options; you were not sure you trusted your legs in your current state—happily and thoroughly fucked out with his cum starting to leak down your thigh.

You heard the water in your bathtub running for a few minutes before he came back to collect you, scooping you up and carrying you to the waiting water. There must have been a dozen tealights all flickering around your bathroom as he carried you in, and your heart clenched as you realized he must have planned this. You knew he loved taking care of you, but now you were feeling a little spoiled.

“You deserve it, sweetheart,” he said, resting his head against yours for a moment.

You let out a long sigh as you felt yourself being levitated into your tub and a delicate, flowery scent enveloped you with the steaming water. “Candles, bath salts, and possibly the best way to be woken up ever,” you giggled approvingly, reaching out for him. As he knelt beside the tub, you blinked at him hopefully, “There’s room for you in here, too.”

With a gentle grin, he eased himself into the water behind you, cuddling you to his chest and petting your dampened hair. He chuckled as you gently drew little patterns along the hard lines of his strong chest and collar, examining a few of the marks you had left on his skin.

“That tickles,” he said, taking your hand in his and kissing it.

You smiled and settled yourself under his bearded chin, breathing deeply. His warm scent and the rhythm of his heart were even more soothing than the bath. “I’ve missed this,” you admitted quietly. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, my love,” he replied, pressing a tender kiss to your hairline and wrapping his arm more tightly around you. “Thought about you every day.”

You were barely aware of the bath growing cooler over time as exhaustion was winning out against your consciousness, and you somehow managed to sleep through Obi-Wan bringing you back to bed, clean and dry.

When you woke in the misty, early morning light, you were cuddled up against his sprawling, naked form. You shifted your legs and moaned happily when you felt the wonderful soreness between your legs, but then you noticed a different set of sheets and blankets now made up your bed.

Now you really felt spoiled—mind-blowing sex, a glorious bath, and he had even changed your bedding for you before falling asleep beside you. You had no idea what you had done to deserve this utterly perfect man, and you felt tears prick at your eyes as you gazed at him, your heart overflowing with love. It was as though a god had been laid out next to you, and you memorized him all over again. Your eyes traced every hard muscle, every plane of his body, and every strand of his hair down to his eyelashes.

A pleasant shiver went through you as he shifted in his sleep, unconsciously wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer. You were still unsure of how much time you had with him—you supposed that was the tradeoff—but you settled back down and let sleep overtake you again, determined to make whatever time you had last.

361 notes · View notes

saradika · 1 year

Text

Florist!Reader x Potter!Obi-Wan AU:

Thinking about a florist, who has a crush on the potter in the studio next store. Seeing each other on their breaks, exchanging small smiles and waves.

Slowly a business partnership is formed, when they realize how well they work together - crafting beautiful arrangements of flowers, selling them in pretty, wheel-thrown vases.

Flirting - in those few fleeting moments where they meet. Secret smiles, songs hummed happily to themselves while they eventually separate - going back to their own lives.

Pretending there’s no secret meanings hidden in those flowers she painstakingly arranges. Camellia, peonies, gardenias.

Pretending the glazes he picks don’t remind him of her eyes, the pretty shade of her lips. That he doesn’t press the flowers she gives him into clay tiles as a way to keep their memory.

A moment - when things change. When the florist brings over coffee, though that isn’t unusual. It’s when she realizes the potter is teaching - watching from the open doorway as the students gather around.

An early class, going over the fundamentals. His voice, the instructions taking a different meaning as their eyes meet. A curve of a smile as that eye contact is held, as the words slide from his lips.

Find the center with two fingers. Gently. Yes, just like that.

Press down, and draw back. Feel how it opens up for you?

You can use three now, if they will fit.

Curl them, keep your fingers nice and firm.

That’s good. Keep going-

A heat searing through her, unable to look away.

And it’s later that evening, when she’s alone and thinking about those words - instructing, guiding, demonstrating - that she’s realizing just how fucking bad she’s got it for him.

#imagining him in a white shirt with an apron #hair half-pulled back and maybe a little clay on his cheek that she wipes away #btw my class was NOT this exciting I just like to romanticize everything #obi wan x reader #obi wan x f!reader #florist!reader x potter!obi-wan #fic ideas

79 notes · View notes

friskynotebook · 2 years

Text

Serve My Worries Away

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Asian plus size f!reader

A professor!Obi x librarian!reader modern!AU

cw: food, age gap

Summary: In which Obi-Wan gets in a fight with a printer and the printer wins.

A note on the Asian rep in this 'verse: In this modern AU, the reader is written to be Asian, plus-sized, and female/AFAB. The amount of Asian representation will vary in the different instalments—some will be based heavily in the reader’s culture, others will not. The reader’s culture is based on my own experiences as a mixed-race Chinese woman and is not meant to represent the vast array of Asian cultures.

I also want to give a special shout out to @obiknights and her work Borrowing Privileges—it's one of my favourite professor!Obi fics and it's inspired my own AU. Thank you for your talent and friendship, Brit ❤️

The title comes from "What Baking Can Do" from the musical Waitress. You can listen to Jessica Vosk sing her version of this song on her album Wild and Free.

Also on AO3!

Chinatown AU masterlist

“Oh, for God’s sake—“

You frowned, turning away from refilling the pamphlet stand.

“How on earth does anyone get anything done in this blasted—“

“Contrary to popular belief, the printers don’t actually talk back,” you replied, smirking at the disgruntled professor.

He jumped a little. “God, you scared me.”

“Clearly.” You cocked your head to the side. “Everything alright over there?”

Obi-Wan huffed out a sigh, running a hand through his auburn hair. “This printer is refusing to work right when I need it to.”

“They have a habit of doing that.” You walked over, swiping your staff card and trying a few buttons. “Yep, it’s having a hissy fit as per usual.”

“Can you make it . . . stop?” He waved his hands vaguely towards the display.

“You can’t make these printers do anything they don’t want to do—and it seems like this printer doesn’t want to do shit right now.” You crossed your arms.

He sighed again. “It’s just—first class jitters, you know? It’s my first day teaching a new course at a new university.” He was wringing his hands, and you could spot the slightest tremble. “I want everything to go well and I don’t much care if they like me but I do want to make a good first impression and—“

“Come with me,” you said, grabbing his hand without thinking and leading him to the library services desk. “Bail, I’m taking lunch. Do you want anything from Twiggs?”

Bail didn’t even look up from his paperwork. “Can you bring me a large mocha with double sugar?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Double sugar? How do you still have all your teeth?”

“Organa genes, my friend.” Bail gave you a shit-eating grin.

You rolled your eyes and stalked out of the library, Obi-Wan and his large, calloused, warm hand trailing behind you.

“Where are we going?”

“To find a working printer.”

“Oh, don’t tell me we’re using one of those mobile printers—I can never figure any of those out,” he groused as you dashed through the quad.

“Those are the same ones that are in the library.”

“They most certainly are not,” he insisted. “The ones inside the library understand me. The ones elsewhere are complicated.”

You dragged Obi-Wan through the Johnson building, heading towards the university centre. “You send the documents through the app, the printers print them off. Easy.”

“Because you speak printer.”

“That is not a thing.”

“I’m pretty sure it is.”

“Just because you don’t understand something doesn’t mean it’s hard.”

“Darling, the printers can smell fear.”

“The printers can’t smell.” You ducked down the stairs and took the tunnel entrance through to the university centre, walking straight past the mobile printer.

“Wait, that was the printer!”

“I’m aware.” You walked past Twiggs and headed up the hidden stair corridor.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” You (rather reluctantly) let go of his hand to fish out your keys, jiggling them through the old lock and pushing open the door.

“Welcome to the Chronicle, Coruscant University’s independent student newspaper,” you announced, pushing the door against one of the bright yellow walls.

“Oh my,” he murmured, taking in the chaotic newsroom. Desks were somewhat organized into clusters, but the chairs were strewn about haphazardly, with newspaper and printer paper scattered over the desks and coffee table. You absently reached forward to fold a blanket laid out over the disgusting sectional.

“Yeah, this is the office when it’s clean—the semester’s barely started.”

“I take it you’re rather familiar with this place?” Obi-Wan asked, tripping over a chair.

You reached out to steady him. “You could say that—I basically lived here all throughout undergrad.”

“You were a writer?”

“Writer, web editor, staff rep on the board, and now professional rep on the board.” You expertly made your way through the maze of chairs to the production computer. “Doesn’t come with many perks, but it does come with my very own office key and a place to crash when I need it—though sleeping on the couch is often a last resort.”

He snorted. “When was the last time it was cleaned?”

“I don’t even want to think about that.” You booted up the computer. “Give me your flash drive.”

He handed it over. “How did you know it was on my flash drive?”

“Because you’re probably the only person I know who still uses them.”

“Very funny.”

Just as you were booting up the printer, you heard another jiggle in the lock. You and Obi-Wan turned, startled from your own little world.

Cassian Andor pushed the door open, surprise etching his face. “Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone would be here,” he said, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk.

You tucked your hair behind your ear, feeling yourself sweat. “Cassian,” you greeted, your voice going up an octave. “You’re fine, no worries.” You stood. “Uh, this is Obi-Wan Kenobi, a new philosophy professor here. Obi-Wan, this is Cassian Andor, one of our news editors extraordinaire and one of my best friends from undergrad.”

The two men shook hands. “A pleasure to meet you, Professor Kenobi,” Cassian said.

“Please, it’s Obi-Wan,” he smiled. “And the pleasure is all mine.” The printer beeped. “Ah, excuse me.”

As Obi-Wan turned around to deal with the printer, Cassian turned to you, raising a brow. “So, how long has that been going on?”

“It’s not,” you insisted, lightly smacking his arm. “I’m just . . . helping a friend.”

“Sure you are,” he teased, his eyes glinting. “It’s nice.”

“What is?”

“Seeing you with a friend,” he smiled. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure it’s not,” he murmured, nudging you gently.

Obi-Wan returned. “Finally, all the syllabi are printed. Thank you so much, my dear.”

You tried to hide your blush. “Oh, it’s no problem.“

Cassian looked between the two of you and cleared his throat. “I’m just gonna get my press pass.”

“Right, we’ll just be on our way,” Obi-Wan smiled. “It was nice to meet you, Cassian.”

“You as well,” he grinned, winking at you as you both headed out.

“Come on,” you said. “Let me take you to lunch—a real lunch, not the drudge Bail took you for the other week.”

I come back from an unintentional hiatus . . . only to announce I'll be going on an intentional hiatus while I write my NaNoWriMo Obidala fic and my Obidala Hallmark Christmas movie rewrite. I'll try to squeeze in an instalment or two before the end of the year, but I won't make any promises.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this instalment! ❤️

No-pressure tags: @obiknights @wickedscribbles @princessxkenobi

#obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan x reader #obi Wan Kenobi x reader #obi wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi x f!reader #obi-wan x f!reader #obi Wan Kenobi x f!reader #obi wan x f!reader #fanfic #fic #star wars fic #my writing

23 notes · View notes

imabeautifulbutterfly · 2 months

Note

Ok, this is so fun! Congrats again!

I'll pick...Hunter (shocked, I'm sure.)

How about: "I don't think I've ever seen you smile" and "Oh, don't be cute"/"Wait, did you just say that I'm cute?"

Thanks!!

Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)

Thank you @clonethirstingisreal - I hope you love this Carol, it actually brought a smile to my face as I was writing it.

Enjoy, love oo.

One Meal

Warnings: knife flipping, allusions to loss, slight angst, fluff. I think that's it, if I miss any please let me know.

Main Master List | Star Wars Fic Roulette

Hunter flicked his knife back and forth in between his fingers, as he contemplated the next mission. Things were … different, since you joined. Not good or bad … just different. It been about six months, and yes, the Marauder was cleaner and didn’t have that lingering smell anymore, and yes, the meals had gotten better too, because you refused to just eat the ration bars the GAR provided. And … okay, it was nice to see your smiling face in the morning, compared to the miserable faces of his brothers.

Yet, he still felt awkward around you. He wanted to laugh with you, like you could so easily with Wrecker, to have deep discussion, like you could with Tech, even philosophical discussions like you did with Echo. Hell, he’d be happy if he could just do target practice with you, like you did with Crosshair, but … every time he opened his mouth, he was curt, short tempered, and on edge.

It wasn’t even your fault, it was just him.

He stood from his seat, heading down the ramp and taking in a breath of fresh air. You were cooking dinner, doing your best to teach Wrecker that just because salt tasted good, didn’t mean he had to put in a whole table spoon full.

It made him laugh a little as you tried to explain in your most patient voice possible, that you’d fix the dinner and Wrecker could go help Tech or Crosshair with something else. It was your polite way of saying ‘go away.’

Hunter tried but he couldn’t stop the smile on his lips, as he walked over to you.

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile" you pointed out as he walked up to you. “What’s got you so happy?”

“Oh, I just saw how you were very tactful with Wrecker. It was funny.”

You shrugged trying to fight back your own laughter as you tried to fix the stew, by adding more water, “He tried. I’m grateful he’s willing to learn.”

“Need help? I’m not completely inept when it comes to cooking.”

You looked a little surprised when he asked, not that his offering to help was a real shock, it was the fact you realized this was the first time you two had a proper conversation. “Um … yeah, if you don’t mind using your handy dandy knife there, that you like flipping around so much, to cut up some of these veggies so I can add them, that’d be great.”

Hunter chuckled at your description, as he nodded, taking a seat and getting to work, “Where did you learn to cook?” He asked, hoping to get to know you a little better.

“My mom and grandmother. They were adamant that I learn how to feed an army if I ever needed to …” you chuckled, “I had a big family, back home. Usually there would be around twenty of us for dinner.”

“Twenty? Did you have a lot of siblings?”

“No. It was just me. But I had uncles, aunts, cousins, friends, neighbours, anyone and everyone who needed a meal could always come to our place for dinner. We never turned away anyone in need of a good meal.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It was …” a sadness passed your face, as you thought back to what had once been your home, until the Separatist droid army showed up, and destroyed everything you had held so dear.

Hunter saw your smile slip, it pained him to see that you had been through so much, although he hadn’t heard about it directly from you, he did overhear what had happened when you were talking with Tech. “Well we appreciate all your efforts, especially when you’re trying to teach us neanderthals how to cook.”

You giggled a little, pushing away the sad thoughts that had encapsulated your mind for a split second, “You’re not neanderthals.”

“We’re not exactly proper either. Couldn’t say, we’re exactly suited for a posh dinner.”

You shook your head as you laughed, “You don’t need to be suited for a posh dinner, you just need to show up to eat.” You smiled as you turned to look at him, smirking as you saw how perfectly he cut each vegetable.

You walked over and grabbed the tray of veggies, and dropped them into the stew, “Thanks for your help.”

“Of course. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure”

“Why do you take care of us? I mean granted the Marauder smells a lot better, and the meals you cook are much better than the GAR rations, but … why do you do it?”

You stirred the stew as you contemplated the question, “I guess … because you feel like family to me.” You turned to look at him, truthfully, he was the only one that you didn’t think of as family, you wanted something more with him, something special, but seeing as this was the first time you two actually talked, it might be a bit far-fetched to imagine that could possibly happen. “And, I love seeing how my food makes you guys happy. Wrecker, has the biggest smile on his face, whenever he eats when I cook. Tech has this adorable blush, although he’ll never admit how much he enjoys my cooking. And Crosshair … well he always comes back for seconds; and frankly, between you and me, he needs to eat more. He’s too skinny. I could break off his collarbone if I needed.”

“I enjoy it too,” Hunter clarified as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “I might not say it, but I always look forward to your cooking.” He blushed and turned his head away, not wanting you to see how much of an effect you had on him, and not just because of your cooking.

You laughed at his reaction, "Oh, don't be cute” you teased, “I might have to walk over there and pinch your cheeks.”

Hunter started to laugh, when he realized what you said, “Wait, did you just say that I'm cute?"

Main Master List | Star Wars Fic Roulette

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

176 notes · View notes

erinkeifer · 4 months

Text

𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 [𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋]

[Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader]

Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3

Summary: These are your first shared holidays with Anakin since you both moved in together in your cozy apartment in Coruscant. No one knows about the two of you, and you want this day to be special for both of you… Although… Wait. No one knows? Perhaps you have a surprise for Anakin today?

Warnings: Warnings? What warnings? Just fluff, fluff, warmth, and more fluff! Word Count: 5,2k

"Open! Come in!" you called out upon hearing chaotic knocking on the door, but there was no response. "I said it's open! I have my hands full of eggs and flour, and I can't move from here!" you shouted again, but instead of a reply, you only heard even more chaotic sounds coming from behind the door. "Darn!" you muttered under your breath as you decided to shake off your hands over the sink and headed towards the door in your stained apron. You opened it with your elbow, not wanting to mess anything around you, and almost immediately jumped back against the wall seeing what was pushing through the already open door. "Anakin! Good heavens! Where did you get this? From Endor?!" you asked in shock, seeing Anakin entering the house carrying a massive, barely fitting through the doorway, Christmas tree. "Not exactly… Hold the door… Uh, please?" Anakin said with a strained voice, trying to squeeze entirely inside. "I don't have a choice… Hey, watch out for R2!" you yelled, seeing the oblivious droid rolling toward Anakin, almost impaling itself on the protruding trunk of the Christmas tree.

"R2, back off!" commanded Anakin, and you chuckled hearing the surprised beeping of the droid as you closed the door behind both of you. Anakin set the Christmas tree against the wall, wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve, looking proudly at his 'prize' as if he had found and dug it up himself.

"Jesus, what took you so long? I almost baked everything." you crossed your arms, looking at your beloved with a smile breaking through your artificially judging tone.

"I was negotiating!" Anakin shrugged with a smile, to which you nodded. "I hope those weren't aggressive negotiations…" you playfully tapped Anakin on the shoulder, leaving a bit of flour on his dark robes.

"Not this time… But admit it, it's great, isn't it? Definitely the best one they had." he added with a proud smile on his face.

"Of course, but Ani… It was supposed to be a small, modest tree! When we stand it upright, it won't fit under the ceiling." Anakin looked at you for a moment, and although your words said otherwise, he saw that you really liked the tree.

"Everything will fit everywhere if you treat it right." Anakin shrugged, and you playfully tapped his shoulder a few times before a laughter attack caught both of you.

"Stop! You'll get me all dirty!" he laughed when you tried to tickle him, but you quickly backed off when you remembered about the oven still on behind you. "You're the one who'll get dirty in a moment." you smiled, to which he raised an eyebrow as if he didn't know what you were talking about. "In an apron or without an apron?" you walked a few steps to the hanger to take off the black apron and held it out towards Anakin. "Oh no." "Oh yes." "But you know I'm completely useless at…" "You can do it, brave boy, you can do anything! And now, come here." Anakin sighed and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender as he slowly joined you in the kitchen. "So... Do you want to dirty your robes, or perhaps the apron?" you handed it to him, leaving a quick kiss on his cheek as if you wanted to praise him for his courage.

Anakin squinted at you, and you smirked playfully, simultaneously helping him tie the apron behind his back. "So, was it that terrible?" you asked, tucking strands of his curly hair behind his ears as he pretended to put on an offended expression. "Yes, yes... You better tell me what we're doing." he asked, diverting from the topic as he looked around at the scattered items on the kitchen counter.

"Well, the dough is almost ready, just need��" you began to speak, then stood on your toes, trying to reach the open cabinet with ingredients. "Let me… What should I grab?" Anakin caught you around the waist to prevent you from straining yourself and reached into the cabinet, which was much more accessible for him given his height. "Sugar and the jar of honey, please… I'll mix what I have here." he nodded at your words and took out two jars from the cabinet. "This one is salt… but leave it here, it might come in handy later." "Oh." Anakin muttered and reached into the cabinet again. "Yes, perfect now, thank you." you took the jar from him and left a kiss on his cheek. Quickly, you refocused on your recipe and didn't even catch the moment when Anakin stood behind you, his hands gently encircling your waist as he observed over your shoulder what you were doing. "What's this?" "This? It's the spice mix, already cooled. Now, I have to pour it into the rest of the ingredients in the bowl—it needs to be warm- not too hot." "Too hot... Like you?" you chuckled lightly as you began carefully pouring the contents from the warm saucepan into the plastic bowl.

You hadn't finished emptying the saucepan when you paused for a moment, feeling Anakin gently kissing your neck, slightly disrupting your balance in what you were doing. "Ani, we'll mess everything up in a moment, really." you smiled, sensing your beloved's need for tenderness, evidently unaffected by your words.

"I don't care." he mumbled against your neck, and you struggled to scrape off the last bits of the mixture from the saucepan before putting it back.

"Darling… Please… Now it's your turn." you smiled, stroking Anakin's head with your 'cleaner' hand.

"Hm?" he grunted, intrigued by whatever you had in mind. "Here's a spoon for you, and mix it very nicely. But make sure there are no lumps. It's as simple as that." Anakin obediently took the spoon from you and began scrutinizing the mixture, as if it required a special strategy. Meanwhile, you went back to your task—turned off the oven with the cupcakes ready, sneakily glancing in Ani's direction as he concentrated on mixing and combining all the ingredients in the bowl, just as you had instructed.

You had to admit there was something about this sight. Something that made your heart melt. Your beloved, hardworking General simply preparing holiday treats with you, periodically glancing in your direction to avoid getting caught testing the raw dough on his finger.

"Ani, just not too much. It's raw dough; your stomach will ache." you said, turned away from him, pretending not to see him in the reflection of the fridge's glass doors.

"Hm? What?" he replied, swallowing the mixture like a professional innocent, and you just smirked in response. God, how I love him. you thought when you turned towards him, and he continued to mix with corners of his mouth smeared with dough, like sweet 'evidence of the crime.'

"Shortly, you'll be able to try something ready…" you began to say, pulling on kitchen gloves and taking out the hot cupcake tray you had prepared earlier, then placing it on the kitchen island. "But first, I'll wash my hands and see what you've been up to." you finished, to which Anakin obediently nodded and continued to mix the dough as you headed to the bathroom.

You double-washed your hands and were just reaching for the towel when you heard a strange exclamation coming from the kitchen. Quickly drying your hands, you rushed out of the bathroom without turning off the light to check if everything was okay. You instantly sighed seeing Anakin holding his mouth under the tap, cold water running.

"Uh! I said, not now! I just took them out of the oven!"

"Ugh… You didn't say!" he mumbled as you tore off a piece of paper towel to dampen it with cold water.

"I did say, but you weren't listening! Give me…" you turned off the flowing water and stood Anakin upright, applying a cold compress to his reddened lips. "Sss…" he hissed, squinting his eyes, and you nodded, seeing your clever beloved bearing the consequences of his actions.

"Wait, wait…" he mumbled through the piece of towel you held to his mouth, then you removed it, letting him speak. "I know something that will heal it better." he continued, and you squinted, waiting for his response. "I'm curious…" you barely managed to finish when Anakin grabbed you around the waist and swiftly sealed his lips to yours, as if he had instantly regained his full strength.

"Mmh! You did that on purpose!" you protested through laughter, and Anakin shook his head in denial.

"No… I just sacrificed myself! Come here…" he caught you almost in mid-air, and not controlling his wild, laughter-interrupted kisses, you both moved to your small living room connected to the kitchen.

"You're crazy!" you laughed, pulling away for a moment from his lips to look into his eyes. "Crazy, but yours." he continued for you, cupping your radiant face in his hands. "It's true, Ani. It's true." you whispered, scanning the details of his face with your eyes and smiling at the sight of the traces of dough on his face. "Ah… Right…" Anakin cleared his throat before continuing, wiping off the cake spots on his face with a piece of the apron. "So, what are we doing with this dough?" .................................................................................................................

The Christmas preparations unfolded for both of you in an atmosphere you had never experienced before—especially for Anakin, who usually, burdened with duties at the temple, couldn't find relief during this time. However, this year, to his surprise, something changed. The comlink had remained silent for a few days, and he even tried shaking it at times, fearing it might have malfunctioned, but to no avail. Today was the day of your festive dinner. Outside, darkness slowly descended, so Skywalker plugged in the fairy lights that adorned the window, and all that remained was to finish decorating the Christmas tree.

"And what? Didn't I tell you it would fit?" he asked proudly, carrying a box filled with baubles and garlands into the living room while you took the roast out of the oven.

"It fit because I trimmed the top." you replied, and both of you inhaled the appetizing, savory aroma of the dish that filled the room.

"Damn, I've gotten hungry." said Anakin, patting his stomach at the sight of a rich plate with the main dish.

"Not yet, sweetheart, the roast needs to cool, and we have to finish the tree." you replied, and Anakin immediately plunged his hand into the box full of decorations.

"So?" he added, approaching you slowly, and when he had you within reach, he draped tinsel around your neck.

"May we?" he added after a moment, pulling you close with the tinsel until your noses almost touched. "You lead, General." you smiled, and both of you knelt by the Christmas tree, contemplating the color scheme you would choose for decoration.

"Any strategy?" you asked, fiddling with a random bauble in your hands that you took from the box.

"Hm?"

"Are we going for specific colors, or are we mixing?" you clarified, and then both of you turned around, hearing the approach of your friendly droid.

"You know what? How about silver and blue?" Anakin added after a moment, not taking his eyes off his loyal friend. You smiled broadly, quickly catching the charming hint from your beloved.

"I think that's a perfect idea." you replied, and before he looked, you left a surprise quick kiss on his lips.

Radiant from your gesture, Anakin didn't have time to reciprocate as you were already buried in the box of decorations, searching for silver and blue baubles one after another. The ones that matched the best, you set aside for Anakin to hang on the branches, and even though it took him a bit, you lovingly watched how carefully and attentively he chose places to hang the baubles.

At your crossed legs, beneath the tree, lay two gifts—one dark blue, prepared by you for Anakin, and one purple, prepared by him for you, with a slightly messy but endearing and heartfelt paper bow and a signature with his boyish handwriting that you would recognize even from the end of the world. Both of you enjoy surprises, so you didn't peek into each other's boxes or inquire about the ideas that came to your minds. Well… maybe once, you wanted to play a little prank on R2, but the droid instantly shut down when you asked if he knew what Anakin had prepared for you in the box. "Do you think it's okay?" Anakin asked, standing up to take a few steps back and survey the almost finished tree. "I think it's perfect." you said with a smile, and even R2 beeped in approval. "See? I guess there's no doubt now." Both of you laughed at the sight of the satisfied droid. "Did you happen to forget something?" you got up from the ground and sweetly smiled at Anakin. "I think so." he said, approaching you and gently cupping your face in his hands, leaving a long, tender kiss on your lips. "Not exactly what I had in mind, but…" "Ah, the tinsel!" Anakin interrupted, realizing you were referring to the part of the decorations wrapped around your neck. You laughed at the momentary confusion of your beloved, and Anakin swiftly unwound the tinsel from your neck, starting to wrap it around the tree from the top while you held onto the lower part.

It was even more endearing that despite the last-minute adjustments, Anakin didn't do anything haphazardly—he executed each movement with feeling and one might say 'professionally,' even though he always claimed to be all thumbs when it came to such things.

"It seems finished. Would you add anything else?" he asked cautiously, but in your eyes, everything was already complete. "Now just the cherry on top… R2?" you called to the droid, and he instantly knew what to do. R2-D2 rolled up to the extension cord connected to the Christmas lights and flipped the switch, making the tree light up. Simultaneous smiles appeared on your and Anakin's faces as you joined hands, proudly looking at your decoration reflecting beautifully in the expansive windows of your apartment.

"Is it time?" Anakin asked timidly, looking at you leaning against the kitchen island. "It's time." you confirmed his words with a smile, eliciting a wide grin on his face as well. You didn't have time to step into the kitchen when suddenly both of you heard the sound of the doorbell coming from the front entrance. "Did you order something?" Anakin asked, clearly surprised, ready to sit down at the table, but then he stood back up. "Hm… Not exactly. Wait, I'll open it." You walked into your small hallway leading to the front door while Anakin observed you, surprised by your stoic calmness.

Anakin stood in silence for a moment, watching his droid. However, soon, hearing a familiar voice he didn't expect at all that evening, shivers ran down his spine. "Good evening, Anakin." echoed the voice of Obi-Wan from behind him, standing at the entrance with you. Skywalker's cheeks reddened in stress, as if he thought he was in some trouble, but his master quickly picked up on his feelings.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to lecture anyone. I know everything. I know about you two." Obi-Wan initially spoke with a serious expression, but soon a warm smile appeared on his face. "Anakin, I've told Master Kenobi everything, and I invited him here tonight to spend the evening with us." you added right after Obi-Wan. Anakin, who had been looking at the floor until now, exchanged glances with both of you, pondering for a moment. After a while, a smile appeared on his face, soon multiplying among the three of you.

"Master." Anakin finally spoke and walked towards Obi-Wan to warmly shake his hand. "Good to see you here." he added after a moment, and you watched them with a smile, setting plates on the table.

"Good to see you too. Actually, both of you." Obi-Wan responded, patting his apprentice on the shoulder as Anakin pointed towards an empty seat at the set table and invited him to join. "Now at least I know where you disappear for those 'unofficial missions.' I was starting to worry that you had joined the Separatists." Obi-Wan added, settling in a free seat across from you and Anakin. However, before he did, he discreetly slid two new boxes under your Christmas tree. You all laughed at Kenobi's suggestion.

"Master, mulled wine? Or are you driving?" you asked from the kitchen, holding a bottle of wine for heating.

"On purpose for this occasion, I took a taxi. I'll take some, please." Kenobi chuckled, amusing his apprentice. "Honestly, Master…" Anakin began, taking a moment to sigh and organize his thoughts. "I was expecting more…"

"That I'd come in here and give you both a good scolding?" Kenobi chuckled under his breath, realizing his apprentice's concerns. He had long had a perspective on the whole situation between him and you. "Something like that?" Skywalker finished, and Kenobi sighed in response, gathering his thoughts.

"You know, Anakin, our choices may differ, our perspectives too… But despite it all, I've processed everything and come to the conclusion… Actually, I know that you deserve to shape your life in your own way, to make your own choices…" Kenobi paused to take a deep breath. "Perhaps if some of my choices in the past were different, my life would look entirely different too, but…"

"That's why I decided it would be best if we spend this day here together." you interrupted Kenobi, handing out mugs of hot wine. "Master, regardless of our choices - you deserve a bit of normalcy, simple everyday life…" Initially, Kenobi had a sad expression on his face, briefly returning to thoughts of the past, but he began to smile upon hearing your words. You sensed the right moment, knowing that Kenobi's words about his past choices and how his life might have been different had a double meaning. You knew it wasn't the time for him to dwell on "what-ifs," so you needed to show him who he could count on here and now.

"Master, you're… for me, for both of us, the closest family." Anakin began, and you finally joined the two men.

"Ani has repeatedly said that you're like an older brother to him… It probably wouldn't be easy for us if you hadn't accepted that…" you continued for him, but Kenobi was quicker to interrupt.

"If I hadn't accepted you, I wouldn't know how to live with it. I won't deny that you're like family to me as well." Kenobi replied and paused for a moment, having something else on the tip of his tongue. "By the way… I know it's still early, but I'd like to give you something in advance. You've arranged time off for Anakin, so there's no risk for him, but they could call me at any moment." He finished, and Anakin squinted his eyes. "Wait, what? How did you arrange time off for me?" Skywalker asked, realizing that the recent silence on the line in the past few days was your doing. "Shhh!" you hushed your beloved and deferred the conversation back to Kenobi, towards your Christmas tree.

"I've been thinking for a long time about what to prepare for you both. I've never had the opportunity to give anyone a gift for this occasion… or rather, I've never had the chance to celebrate with anyone..." Obi-Wan began, taking out from under the Christmas tree two boxes he had brought with him—plain, wrapped in the simplest way, differing only in size.

"But I think I hit the mark at least a little." he continued, presenting the gifts in your direction. They were modestly labeled—yours had the first letter of your name, and Anakin's had a large 'A' on it. You smiled at each other, and Skywalker was the first to start unwrapping his gift, so you waited with yours to be able to see his reaction.

Initially, both of you were unsure about what emerged from the wrapping that Anakin had disarmed, but it was only the next layer of unwrapped paper that revealed Obi-Wan's first gift.

"Whoah, where did you get this?" Skywalker asked with a broad smile, holding an elegant, sturdy case for his lightsaber with specially engraved initials A.S.

"I ordered it on special request. I won't deny that I consulted a bit on choosing this gift…" Kenobi threw you a meaningful look, to which you smiled. "…But it also occurred to me after the last mission when your hilt fell off, and all the way to Coruscant, you couldn't stop polishing it." Anakin didn't wait any longer and took a few steps back to pick up his lightsaber from the coffee table and test how it fits with the new accessory.

"It fits perfectly." Skywalker maneuvered his weapon a bit and, in the meantime, checked if the case fits on his belt. "It's very well secured in the switch area—you won't have to worry about the lightsaber accidentally turning on." added Kenobi as Anakin safely placed his new gadget on the coffee table.

"Thank you, Master… But honestly, now I feel really embarrassed because I don't have any gift for you." Anakin responded with slight confusion, but for Kenobi, it absolutely didn't matter.

"For me, the greatest gift is that I can be here today, in such a pleasant, homely company." both of you smiled at Obi-Wan's words, but you didn't have to worry about Kenobi leaving your apartment empty-handed. You invited him yourself, so you made sure he returned with his gift—a bag full of homemade sweets and treats, and a bottle of elegant, winter mulled wine that he enjoys.

"It seems it's your turn now, Ma'am." Obi-Wan smiled, and soon after his words, both men focused their attention on the small package you held in your hands. You returned the smile to the older Jedi and began carefully unwrapping the paper, which, this time, had only one layer. Underneath was an elegant, blue box, and when you took off the lid, your eyes were greeted by a beautiful blue jewelry set—a necklace with stunning, shimmering stones and matching earrings.

"Master… This is beautiful… You really didn't have to…"

"In fact, this set has been with me for a long time… I once prepared it for Satine, but I never had the chance to give it to her, so…" Hearing these words, your heart almost stopped, and you weren't the only one in shock—Anakin was equally stunned.

"Master, I… I can't accept this… I don't feel that…"

"I want you to accept it. It was meant for someone special and will go to someone special. You are the closest woman to me since I learned about your relationship, and since I became aware of it, I know you're the right person to wear this." As Obi-Wan spoke, your eyes glistened. You nervously looked toward the moved Anakin and then back to Kenobi, embracing him warmly.

"I'll take care of it, I promise." you added, breaking the hug and very gently placing the box in a safe corner. "But you have to promise me something else." Kenobi said after a while, and of course, you immediately turned towards him.

"That you'll take care of him." he added, patting his apprentice on the shoulder, triggering wide smiles from both of you.

"May the Force curse me if it's otherwise." you laughed, approaching your beloved, who wrapped his arm around you, gaining comfort to do so in the presence of his Master. "Because, Anakin, you should know right away that if you don't take care of her, I'll kill you." Kenobi added with mock seriousness. Anakin initially widened his eyes in surprise, but he knew he didn't have to worry about such a scenario because he takes care of you incredibly well. "Damn, guys, I won't keep you any longer. You must be starving." You interrupted as soon as the opportunity arose, and the two smiling Jedi, without any protest, immediately took their seats at the table to enjoy the long-awaited dinner. "What do we have here?" Obi-Wan asked, rubbing his hands together at the sight of appetizing dishes on the elegant table setting. "This is roast with vegetables, here's my experimental – but supposedly very good – salad, and over there are raspberry cupcakes…" you listed one by one as Kenobi and Anakin served themselves with their chosen dishes. A portion of roast quickly landed on Obi-Wan's plate, and on the dessert plate next to it were gingerbreads, which he wanted to try first. "…And Anakin made the gingerbreads himself… well, almost by himself!" you added, and at your words, Kenobi paused for a moment before taking the first bite. "Oh? Really?" the older Jedi widened his eyes, and you laughed, seeing him act as if they were dealing with explosive concoctions. "But don't worry, they are really delicious. I tested them myself, and I have to admit that your apprentice has a knack for cooking." Anakin sat a bit embarrassed but blushing, chewing on your delicious dishes and appreciating your compliments. "Okay, I have to admit, they're seriously good." Kenobi replied with a full mouth, genuinely impressed by the taste of the sweet gingerbreads. "See, you underestimated me." Anakin smiled over his plate, adding another serving of your roast, which absolutely stole the show that evening. "Oh, I just know your capabilities too well, Anakin." Kenobi concluded, and you just chuckled, enjoying one of the cupcakes that Anakin had the chance to nibble on a bit earlier.

Dinner passed in a delightful mood – there were jokes, playful banter that had everyone laughing, but most importantly, there was a wonderful atmosphere that truly made you all feel like family. It was already quite late at night when Kenobi left the two of you alone. Before he departed, you made sure he took your delicious gifts with him. Since he allowed himself to raise a few more toasts for you, you escorted him to the taxi drop-off point.

You both felt a bit frozen on the way back to the apartment, especially Anakin, who graciously offered you his coat along the way. As soon as you got in, you cranked up the heating because, even though you both were eager to dive into bed, you knew there was one more important thing left to do.

"What do you say, love, who goes first?" you asked Anakin, embracing him tenderly as you stood in front of your Christmas tree. "It might sound strange, but… Maybe I'll go first, huh?" Anakin's choice surprised you, as such questions usually ended with both of you insisting the lady goes first, but this time something was clearly different. "Of course, go ahead." you smiled and left a kiss on his cheek before he bent down to pick up the box labeled with the letter 'A'. It was substantial, much larger than yours and slightly more complex in its packaging. You sat down beside him to help in case he needed assistance with unwrapping.

For Anakin, who had already practiced unwrapping presents a bit today, it didn't take long at all. From the broad smile on his face right from the start, you could tell he was already thrilled. "No way." he whispered, revealing his new, sophisticated toolbox containing absolutely everything he might need for repairing droids or providing 'first aid' in case of speeder breakdowns. "You're amazing, have I told you that already?" Anakin turned to you with a wide grin and connected his lips with yours in a long kiss. "So, I guess I nailed the present, huh?" you asked, already knowing the answer. "You have no idea how much." he added, leaving another kiss on your lips and caressing your cheek gently. "Well then… it seems it's your turn now." he whispered after a while, and your cheeks blushed as you reached for a small box under the tree. You stood up, trying to first deal with the paper bow. Anakin stood behind you, peering over your shoulder, not wanting to interrupt your unwrapping joy. You were getting to the third layer of paper, revealing a simple box underneath, similar to a typical tea box. However, when you opened the lid, there was nothing inside. You also couldn't feel Anakin's breath on your shoulder, so he must have distanced himself a bit when you were focused on unboxing. "Ani, I think I messed something up, or…" you began, turning around, and suddenly you had to lower your gaze because your beloved was kneeling in front of you, holding another, this time elegant and exquisite box. "I didn't want you to find it in a pile of papers, so I left the real gift here." he said. You didn't know what to say next, seeing Anakin's completely serious face and his hand extended towards you. "I chose your favorite stone and had it framed as beautifully as possible, so that accepting this ring would be a gift not only for me but also for you… Because accepting it would mean that I will have the most wonderful gift I could ever dream of…" he spoke, and you felt your eyes welling up. "Anakin… Does this mean…" "It means that tonight, I want to ask you to marry me. You, the most special woman in my life, with whom I want to celebrate Christmas forever, in war and in peace, in sickness and in health…" he continued, and you felt your heart pounding. However, you already knew the answer. You didn't want to wait any longer. You didn't want to keep him in suspense. "I want to spend every Christmas with you, I want to start every new year with you… Anakin… I have no doubt… I never did." You cupped his face with your hands as he slowly rose from his kneeling position, gazing deeply into your eyes. "Should I understand this as a 'yes'?" he asked, taking out the breathtakingly beautiful ring from the elegant box. "Yes, Anakin. There is only one answer for me." You replied, and then he gently took your hand to put the ring on it, perfectly sized for your finger. Your lips met again in a passionate kiss – a kiss unlike any other because it was part of a new, wonderful reality for both of you. You could have prolonged it for a long time, but eventually, you separated your lips and held each other tightly, looking into each other's eyes. "I will take care of you. I will take care of you as much as I can…" he whispered slowly, almost touching noses, observing the Christmas tree's illumination reflecting in your eyes. "And I will ensure that every Christmas from now on is like these… But in all this, one thing will remain certain…" he continued, and you listened attentively. "With each passing Christmas, I will love you even more."

232 notes · View notes

just-dreaming-marvel · 2 years

Text

The Bond Between Us MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

STAR WARS MASTERLIST

Qui-Gon Jinn discovers you and your twin brother, Anakin Skywalker, on Tatooine after being stranded there during a mission. He senses excellent power in the Force in you and Anakin. The Jedi Order takes a chance on the two of you, not without strict guidelines. A bond is slowly made between two Jedi, pushing the boundaries of the ancient Order.

This is the story of power, war, friendship, order, and love.

MAIN STORY CHAPTERS

THE PHANTOM MENACE

ONE / TWO / THREE / FOUR

ATTACK OF THE CLONES

FIVE / SIX / SEVEN / EIGHT / NINE / TEN / ELEVEN

THE CLONE WARS

TWELVE / THIRTEEN / FOURTEEN / FIFTEEN / SIXTEEN / SEVENTEEN / EIGHTEEN / NINETEEN / TWENTY / TWENTY-ONE / TWENTY-TWO / TWENTY THREE / TWENTY-FOUR / TWENTY FIVE / TWENTY-SIX / TWENTY SEVEN / TWENTY-EIGHT / TWENTY-NINE / THIRTY / THIRTY-ONE / THIRTY-TWO / THIRTY-THREE / THIRTY-FOUR / THIRTY-FIVE / THIRTY-SIX / THIRTY-SEVEN / THIRTY-EIGHT

REVENGE OF THE SITH

THIRTY-NINE / FORTY / FORTY-ONE / FORTY-TWO / FORTY-THREE / FORTY-FOUR

OBI-WAN KENOBI

FORTY-FIVE / FORTY-SIX / FORTY-SEVEN / FORTY-EIGHT / FORTY-NINE / FIFTY / FIFTY-ONE / FIFTY-TWO / FIFTY-THREE / FIFTY-FOUR / FIFTY-FIVE

REBELS

FIFTY-SIX

A NEW HOPE

FIFTY-SEVEN / FIFTY-EIGHT / FIFTY-NINE / SIXTY / SIXTY-ONE / SIXTY-TWO / SIXTY-THREE / SIXTY-FOUR

THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK

SIXTY-FIVE / SIXTY-SIX / SIXTY-SEVEN / SIXTY-EIGHT / SIXTY-NINE / SEVENTY

RETURN OF THE JEDI

SEVENTY-ONE / SEVENTY-TWO / SEVENTY-THREE / SEVENTY-FOUR / SEVENTY-FIVE / SEVENTY-SIX / SEVENTY-SEVEN

THE MANDALORIAN / THE BOOK OF BOBA FETT

SEVENTY-EIGHT / SEVENTY-NINE / EIGHTY

THE FORCE AWAKENS

EIGHTY-ONE / EIGHTY-TWO / EIGHTY-THREE

THE LAST JEDI

EIGHTY-FOUR / EIGHTY-FIVE / EIGHTY-SIX

THE RISE OF SKYWALKER

EIGHTY-SEVEN / EIGHTY-EIGHT / EIGHTY-NINE

ASKS / QUESTIONS / ONE SHOTS

AGES

PLAYLIST

REUNITED

HIS TURN

I no longer do tag lists, just follow and interact and be patient.

2K notes · View notes

moonlight-prose · 9 months

Note

ahh hello lovely!! Your Sinful Soiree is gorgeous and looks so fun! So excited to read what you make for it.

And would love to send something in! I think about your kinktober Obi-Wan all the time, would love to please request something for him + this prompt: “shh. there’s people in the other room.”

Hope you have a great day! 💖💕

SWEETENED CRAVINGS

a/n: so i sat on this for a bit trying to find the inspo for obi-wan again. but i seriously didn't expect to get it back to this degree. i wrote this quickly and possibly not even paying attention to what i was putting on the paper because my mind was going a mile a minute. so this is probably extremely messy, but i hope you enjoy it darling. (also thank you for reigniting my love for this man. i am now swooning again).

summary: "he’d want the last thing he ever heard to be the sound of you tipping over the edge, falling into a bliss you both craved."

word count: 1.6k+

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, bad explanation of the force, cumplay, cumeating, obi-wan being a tease, possible exhibitionism (if you squint with a magnifying glass).

If you could scream, you would. You would allow every sound you pushed down, every whimper you bit back, free. In fact you wanted to hear it echo around you. Until he went deaf with it. Although knowing him, he’d want that too. He’d want the last thing he ever heard to be the sound of you tipping over the edge, falling into a bliss you both craved.

“F-Fuck. Obi—” Your head fell back against the wall behind you, nails digging into the rough fabric of his robes.

His eyes met yours, the brilliant blue still stealing your breath after so many months of seeing them like this. Darkened with a lust that reverberated through your entire body. A feeling unlike any other. When in fact it was you that showed it to him first. You who got to watch as he discovered what real pleasure felt like—what it did to his psyche.

“I know darling,” he whispered, his lips glistening in you.

One hand gripped your leg that was slung over his shoulder, the other focused on prolonging every little sensation that coursed through you. His fingers curled, brushing against a spot that he always found with astounding accuracy every time. And he watched—a small smile playing on his lips—as you nearly crumpled in on yourself. A sharp gasp leaving your mouth.

“I can’t…” Oh but you wanted to. You wanted to dig your hands into his hair and drag him back to your cunt that practically pulsed with each shift of his hand. You needed to fall off that cliff.

“Yes,” he said, his voice slipping into a tone you were rather familiar with. A demand that only came from a general in war. “You will.”

Nodding without another thought on the matter, you felt his tongue slip back through your folds. A sound clawed up the back of your throat as heat filled your stomach, spreading to the very tips of your fingers. But you fought against it. Did whatever you could to hold it back in your chest. Except then he sucked your clit into his mouth, a soft moan reverberating through your entire body.

A cry tore from your throat, your thighs shaking in his grip. You were right there. And you tried to drag it closer, allowing it to fill your entire being with that white hot burn you loved. You craved it. Desperately needed the sweetness that only he could give to spread along your tongue, but you felt it began to fade. Whatever licked hotly at the edge, sunk back into the darkness.

“No,” you gasped. “No, please. Please I want to—”

He rose to his feet, his hand covering your mouth with fingers that were still covered in your slick. “I know. I know what you want.”

A muffled whine echoed beneath his palm. You hoped that the sound would spur him on; show him how much you needed him to continue. Yet it only made him smile. A light in his eyes that told you he wasn’t done with you yet. Far from it.

Shuffling with one hand, he pulled at his robes with a speed that suggested he wasn’t as calm and collected as you expected him to be. In fact, seeing you like this—tasting you on his tongue—drove him to the brink of a madness he could no longer deny. A state of being he’d happily settle in permanently.

He gripped your leg, hooking it around his hip as the firm head of his cock swiped through your folds. Sending a shiver through your entire body. A broken moan escaping you. He nudged at your clit, his hot breath panting across your skin, and you nearly told him to get it over with. To finally give you what you both wanted. But the feeling of him sinking into you completely, until his hips met yours, sent your head flying back. A ragged cry slipping free.

“Darling,” he grunted, his forehead falling against your temple, eyes squeezed shut.

You couldn’t even get coherent words out, a muffled sound coming out louder than you intended. That only made him press his hand down harder, his lips coming up to your ear, the soft grunt he let out shaking your entire being.

“Shh. There’s people in the other room.” He kissed the spot beneath your ear that sent a shiver down your spine. “I need you to be quiet for me. Can you do that? Can you be good?”

You’d go out onto a fucking battlefield with no weapons at this point. As long as he continued with whatever he had planned. Obi-Wan controlled your entire being, bending you to his will, and you happily allowed it. What more could you want? When he held you like the most precious thing in the galaxy; when he looked at you like you were his north star. His eternal light in the battle against darkness.

Nodding, you felt him pull out slightly, only to press back in with a stunted thrust that had his head falling forward. Neither of you would last very long—not with the prospect of possibly getting caught hanging over your heads. Whichever of you thought fucking in the Jedi Temple was a good idea was certainly not thinking about the consequences.

“So tight,” he gasped, his other hand pulling your leg up higher, allowing him to sink in a bit deeper.

His body shook, teeth digging into his bottom lip, as he realized just how quickly this would be over. Obi-Wan—though a little more experienced than last time—still found himself unable to hold on at times. Not when your walls were so tight around his cock. Each flutter sending him a little higher, the self control he prided himself on, slipping further and further away.

“I’ve got you.”

Another short stunted thrust caused your hips to hit the wall softly, but it did exactly what you needed. His cock pressed against that blinding spot that had your eyes welling up with tears. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, eyes rolling back as the release he had built up suddenly came roaring back.

“So fucking perfect,” he muttered, his speed quickening to chase that feeling he felt build up in the base of his spine. “So good for me darling.”

A whimper was pressed into his palm, your hips canting up to match his thrusts with weak movements.

“I’ve got you.” He gasped, his forehead falling to yours. “I want to feel it. Please. I need it.”

He slammed into you, feeling your cunt clamp down around him as you clawed at his back. Ripping his hand away, his lips pressed against yours, swallowing every sound you made and giving you his in return. He grunted with each thrust, your slick coating the coarse hair at the base of his cock and giving him a chance to perfectly grind against your clit.

“I-” You pulled away, a string of spit connecting your lips together. “I’m—oh—”

“Yes,” he panted, his tongue sliding against yours, hand moving down to grip your hip. “Let me feel you.”

One final grind of his hips against yours sent the wave of bliss you’d been grasping for through you. A sob of his name was swallowed by his fervent kiss, your spine arching until you were pressed fully into him. Something burst forward, enveloping him whole, and it was only when he shuddered finally reaching his own peak, did you realize it was you.

A bright light of a feeling you could only define as purely Obi-Wan shoved into your body, sending you higher than before. He cried into your mouth, his hand slapping against the wall beside your head as he shook, sinking into the heat of the Force that you drowned him in.

“Fuck,” you sighed when you finally began to come down, your head spinning from the high that still lingered in your body. Sparking up and down your spine.

He chuckled, remaining as close to you as possible, even as his cock softened inside you. “I believe we got a bit carried away.”

You smiled, cupping the back of his neck. “So much for being quiet.”

“I can come up with an explanation for the noise.”

You scoffed. “And what pray tell is this explanation? I apologize for the noise but I couldn’t stop myself from eating out my lover in an empty room.”

His cheeks stained red until it crept up to his ears. “Something of the sort.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’d much rather prefer the term intelligent.”

You laughed, feeling his lips press against your neck, his own smile curving against your skin. “Whatever you say General Kenobi.”

A soft growl echoed in his chest at the sound of you using his title, his teeth digging into your throat. You sighed softly at the feeling of his cock twitching in curiosity, the knowledge that you wouldn’t be leaving this room any time soon now dawning on you.

“Say it again,” he murmured, his hips pushing forward, eliciting a high keening moan from your throat.

“G-General—” His thumb spread the mixture of your cum along your swollen clit, pressing down until your hips jerked forward—painful sparks shooting up your body.

“Good girl.” A wide smile curved on his mouth, the thumb that had been against your clit, now running along your bottom lip, opening you up. “Now.” He moaned at the feel of your tongue against his finger. “Where was I?”

#obi wan kenobi x f!reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi x y/n #obi wan kenobi smut #obi wan x reader #obi wan smut #obi wan kenobi #my writing #sinful soiree🥀#babes the fact that you continue to think about that kinktober fic #makes me so happy

287 notes · View notes

eupheme · 1 year

Text

You Make Me Feel Like Dancing | Day 21: Wedding

modern!obi-wan kenobi (‘ben’) x f!reader

Rated E | 5.1k

Tags: semi-fake-dating, chronic semi-platonic wedding dates, mutual yearning and pining, implied use of the force, jealousy, brief misunderstanding, fingering, hickies, PiV, smut and lots of feelings

Heartfelt thank you to @obiknights for lending an ear! ❄️💕

On paper, it sounds perfect. You’ll be his date, as long as he’ll be yours. Never having to be alone, no awkward moments with a stranger.

It’s just too bad that you are hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with him.

Until a year or so ago, you found weddings near unbearable.

You’d go - of course you would. It meant so to support your friends and family, you’d never miss it. But there was something to be said about the traveling, the long line of introductions, the feeling of being so alone as you watched loved ones express their feelings - for always and forever.

That changed - when you made the agreement.

Ben was an acquaintance, friendly enough when you bumped into him. Never someone you’d invite out on your own - far too nervous to do so, too afraid of the rejection.

So when he had overheard you - sighing to your roommate about your coworkers wedding, how you’re always going to them by yourself - it had come as a surprise. The way he had leaned against the high top of the table, his easy smile.

“I’ll go with you.”

You had though he was joking. Looking at him with a scoff of a laugh, eyes flicking to your roommate’s.

But he had insisted. Saying he had always enjoyed weddings and why not? They were always better with a friend.

And so, small agreement had been made.

He’d be your date, and you’d be his. Shaking hands on it, so it would be official.

Now - you find you don’t mind weddings, all that much.

You think you might even like them.

———

So far, tonight had been one you’ll remember for a long time. An energy sparking throughout, beginning even before you even arrived.

No traffic on the drive down - one long enough that you had to book hotel rooms. Ending up with connecting ones, just enough time for you to slip into your dress, touch up your hair, before he was knocking on your door, sighing for you to hurry up.

Managing to slide in with the last of the guests, finding a seat together towards the back. The room almost too warm with the tight pack of people, but the ceremony that went on for a little too long was bearable with the way his legs spread in the pew, his thigh tucked against yours.

Letting your mind wander during the sermon - you’d pay attention for the actual vows - thinking about the dance videos he had texted you. Trying to remember the moves, because you were damned if you were going to let anyone else try them out with him.

You don’t tear up the dance floor or anything, but you have fun.

Everything seems to be, with him.

Not noticing you had been drumming out the internal beat against your knee, until he’s grasping your wrist - a sharp, warning exhale of breath from his nose as he side-eyes you.

Remembering how Ben said he liked this part, how he said he could feel the love in the room.

You thought he was full of it, as your own nose wrinkled in response to his silent disapproval. Until his fingers slid down to wrap around yours, holding them tight. Pulling them, entwined, until they rested against his thigh.

Yes, that had been nice.

Now, dinner is clearing up, the dishes whisked away from under your nose - as he charms the older couple that still sits across from you with his tales of being a middle school teacher.

“Yes, thirty-seven. And all angels of course, when they aren’t driving me mad.” Ben says with a mock sigh, leaning back in his chair, “But they aren’t the biggest source of my grief.”

“What could be more stressful than that?” The woman asks, and he smiles.

“Two godchildren learning how to drive. Twins. It’s enough to turn me old and grey.” Fingers stroke at the edge of his beard, tugging on a patch for emphasis.

It makes you smile, as there’s the squeal of a microphone, the best man inviting everyone back out to the dance floor.

You glance at Ben, where he’s dipping his head in goodbye - the mic too loud for them to hear his words from across the table. The legs of his chair scraping against the tile as he pushes back, uncrossing his legs to stand.

“Old and grey, huh?” You tease, as his hand extends. “Think you can keep up tonight?”

He tugs you out of your chair, his other hand on your elbow to steady you, “Funny.”

Out of everything, you still liked this part the best.

When everyone had eaten, tears and joy and laughter bouncing over the walls, soaking into your skin. When the lights die back down, and the music starts, again.

How he’ll pull you out to the dance floor, then.

Bright eyes, his hand warm and strong in yours. Sleeves rolled up, a button on his shirt popped for every hour that has gone by. His jacket slung neatly over his seat where it sat tucked next to yours.

You’ll hunt down his tie before you leave, finding it curled somewhere safe - in the sleeve of your coat, tucked into your purse.

Until then, you treasure this.

When it’s dark and the food and fun are fueling the floor, when the DJ reads the room and picks the perfect songs.

One moment facing him, all smiles as he spins you in his arms. The next, when his hands are on your hips as you move together. His front pressed against your back, the rough exhale of his breath in your ear just audible over the thud of the music.

It does something to you, an ache in your chest and then much lower.

Each evening together leaving you feeling like Cinderella, dancing with the Prince. Until the clock is striking midnight, and the magic and music has come to and end, and you’re just you again.

Alone, and pining.

Because this is just a fun, ongoing favor.

It won’t be anything more, even if you wish for it.

———

As the songs swirl around you, you realize how easy it is. How the two of you move, just how much you like dancing with Ben.

Nudging you, leading you effortlessly - not shying away from tugging you flush against him when you drift too far away, or get off-beat. Always watching, making sure you’re having a much fun as he is - the bright shine of his smile when he does a move that makes you laugh.

It’s slow - the way you have mapped out each others bodies in such a gradual, intimate way.

Hands that would hover in the beginning, the ghost of his hand against your shoulder, now grip on. With the comfort comes the familiarity - the thigh that slides between yours when it gets late and the songs turn dirty.

Your hands grasping at his waist, before raising above your head, encouraging his to wander. Spinning you around, a broad hand splaying under your breasts, pressing you back against his chest as the twist of your hips turns into a grind.

When everything seems to narrow down to just the two of you, that brief point of connection as his hips move with yours.

It’s a moment you crave, but for now - it’s still early.

Each song bleeding into the next. The last verse slowing as his fingers press against the curve of your hip - sliding down your thigh to hike it up against his as he dips you. Your hand splayed against the back of his neck, holding on.

Trusting him to pull you back up, his palm resting on the small of your back. Your heels sliding against the floor when he does, a squeak as you lose your balance - but you were never in any danger.

With a low laugh, his hand raising to the space between your shoulders as he tugs you flush against him.

Your fingers still scramble, clutching at the back of his neck, the other splaying across his chest.

His bare chest - your palm accidentally sliding where his shirt has become unbuttoned over the course of the evening, hanging loose and open down to his abdomen.

Steadied, you snatch your hand away, heat in your cheeks as you smile with embarrassment, as you apologize.

Even if you don’t mean it - for slipping, or for touching him.

His hand on your thigh moves, his fingers catching your own. Those pretty blue eyes under thick, lowered lashes watching as he draws it back, pressing your palm against him again.

Your fingers spreading out, against the coarse, auburn hair and hot, sticky skin - just above his thudding heart.

Lately, at the past few weddings, there had been a different kind of dance.

Ones that you didn’t know the steps to, carefully feelings the moves out on your own.

Like now - the lightest press of your palm against his neck, the way his head dips as if he can read your thoughts. The point of his nose brushing your cheek, followed by the lightest scratch of his beard.

The arm still curled around you shifting, raising higher, nudging you just a little bit closer as he sways.

If you just moved your mouth, you think your lips could brush. You feel your hand tremble against him, nerves and hope and longing as your fingers press into skin.

The music fades. The sultry tone shifting into something cheerful, a whoop from a group of men nearby as they recognize the line dance.

And just like that - the magic is broken.

You step back, blinking - your hand still warm as it smoothes down your dress, as his fingers trail after you.

Trying to think of something to say, so he doesn’t realize just how head-over-heels you are. Missing the way his lips stay parted, the way he’d drag you right back if you’d let him.

“Cake?” You manage, finally meeting his gaze, and he smiles.

A hand taking through his hair, pushing the long strands back from his forehead, “Yes, please. Vanilla, unless-”

“-unless they have strawberry.” You interrupt with a smile, “I know.”

Leaving him, the back of your hand pressed against a burning cheek as you make your way to the dessert table.

Waiting in line to grab your two pieces, making chit-chat with friends and faces you recognize. Smiling, when they have what he wants, wanting to watch the way his eyes light up when he sees.

But, he’s not at your table when you return. You frown as you set the plates down, glancing back to where you left him. Scanning the crowd, the messy lines of dancers copying each others moves, until you see it.

See him, his head thrown back as he laughs - a hand braced on his thigh as he tugs the arm of his partner, getting her back on beat. The flash of skin you can see from here as he moves - the peek of his chest that you had just had your hands on.

You feel frozen in place as you watch, a jolt of something sharp and scorching hot arcing through you. Burning up in a new kind of way when she clutches at his shoulders, as the rhythm of the dance turns in them in a new direction.

Facing you - where his eyes meet yours in the crowd. Where he can see how your lips press together, the blinking of your eyes as you process.

You know you’re holding him back.

He’s a good dancer. You can see the looks, the way people watch him. Sometimes they made you feel like you did now, but sometimes you felt… guilty.

Worried that he felt a noble obligation to indulge you, worried that your agreement meant he wasn’t bringing a real date like he’d prefer.

Sometimes you can smile and push those thoughts down. Ignoring them, as you’ve learned to do so well.

But tonight, it feels like too big of a burden to bear.

The grin slipping from his face as he watches you abandon the desserts on the nearest table - the forks clattering against the plastic plates as they drop.

As you turn on your heel, setting off for just about anywhere else.

Eyes focusing on the wide set of double-doors in the back, the hallway leading to the bathrooms.

He’s catching up with you - the touch of his fingers against your arm, sliding down until they wrap around your wrist. Its electric, in spite of everything, your stomach still flipping from the contact.

You turn, and Ben is looking at you curiously, and that feels like another betrayal. A confirmation that he doesn’t see you that way, and your throat is feeling tight as you shake your head, tugging away from his grasp.

“What’s going on?” He persists, a crease deepening between his brows, a tilt to his head.

You’re still in the middle of the room, lost in the islands of tables and skewed chairs. Not about to get into here, so instead you’re tugging him now - fingers catching the rolled edge of a sleeve as you steer him towards one of the carved out alcoves set along the walls.

“You can’t tell me it’s nothing, I’ve never seen you abandon a dessert like that.” He’s smiling, lacing his concern with jokes to ease you.

It almost works, the familiarity, the closeness, but then you’re looking at him and remembering - your eyes darting away.

“Nothing is wrong. I just wasn’t-,” You stumble, before taking a breath - finding your words, “You looked busy.”

They come out a little firmer, a little more pointed that you were expecting. He looks at you, eyebrows raised.

Your words, expression, too transparent because he gets it, and there’s a short bark of laughter as you turn to leave. As he’s stepping closer, and you find yourself tucked further into the nook.

“Sweetheart.” The nickname would normally make you melt, but you’re too busy trying to be brave, “Honestly, It was a line dance. I would’ve taught your grandmother how to do it.”

His exasperated look turns thoughtful, “You know, I think I actually did? Last summer, at your cousin’s-”

You shake your head, annoyed and enamored and hurt, your hands spreading wide, “It’s fine. It’s not a big deal. It could be nice, you know?”

Ben’s smile fades, as your back presses against the the wall, your eyes darting away as you clarify, “For you to dance with someone you actually want to be with.”

There’s a beat of silence. Stretching out, agonizing.

And then he laughs again, and it embarrasses you further - his fingers coming to catch your chin and tilt it upwards as he steps closer.

“Is that what you think, darling?” He breathes, as his words draw your eyes back. Meeting his heavy-lidded gaze, as his head dips level with yours.

“That I haven’t wanted this?”

He presses against you then, eyes still on yours as his hips roll. Guiding your hands up to lock around his neck as his forehead bumps against yours, a low sigh when you start to sway with him.

To dance, with him - again.

Tucked away in this little corner, just the two of you. And when your fingers wrap into his hair and tug - he groans. Unable to help himself as his head dips.

As his lips finally press against yours.

A hand cupping your jaw, warm and strong as his body follows, pulling you to him. Your own moan soft in your throat as it feels like weeks, months, years, of want is released, pushing yourself onto tip-toe in an attempt to get closer.

Your body seeming to move on instinct, rolling against his, until the soft fabric of your dress is crushing against his chest. A hand gripping your hip as your body shifts against his, until he’s gasping into your mouth.

The kiss deepening and you’re clinging to him as he traps you between his body and the wall. Soft against him and sweet on his tongue when he’s brushing against your lips and you’re opening for him.

Pulling away, letting your hands wander from his hair, to his strong shoulders, to his chest again. His own mouth hot as he kisses your jaw, feeling the moan in your throat as his lips move to just under your ear.

He always said he could feel the love in the room. You wonder if he can feel you - the sharp ache of desire and pent up longing.

You think maybe - he just might - from the way he groans against your neck, lips pressing against a spot where your pulse thuds.

A hand is resting against the small of your back, and now it pushes - angling your hips until they’re flush with him. Where you can feel the press of something hard, as his mouth hovers just next to your ear.

“That I haven’t wanted you?” He rasps, making you shiver, “That I haven’t been yours, only yours, this entire time?”

It making you moan, the ache between your thighs deepening, a clenching in your abdomen. The admission making you feel reckless, making you want even more.

“Can we get out of here?” You ask him, breathless - and you can hear his sharp exhale, the scrape of his beard against your cheek.

“Yes, darling.” He says against your mouth, pressing a quick kiss before he steps back from the wall - bringing you with him, “Your room or mine?”

Your eyes are shining as you move with him, smiling as you shake your head, “I don’t care. Anywhere. As long as it’s with you.”

His hand finding yours, bringing your knuckles up to us mouth, pressing his lips against the first two.

“I think I can manage that, darling.”

Feeling infinitely lighter, your own laugh bubbling up, as he tugs you toward the exit.

———

Your stomach is full of butterflies as he lays you down on the bed - his room, though it doesn’t really matter.

He follows, his weight pressing into you, mouth finding yours again as his fingers pluck at the layers of your dress, making room for himself between your thighs.

Soft, gasping breaths as you cling to him, a hand pressed against the back of his neck as you inhale a breath before tugging him back down again.

Those nerves twisting into something much more pleasurable as he finds the slit in your dress, fingers tracing along skin to hook a hand under your knee - draw your thigh around his hip.

Realizing with a start that it doesn’t feel that far from before, the same sort of fluttering when he dipped you. From excitement - the thrill of it. Knowing you could trust him, and he had shown you he could.

You could trust him here, too.

Let him lead, like you always did.

His hips drop, grinding himself against you - the thick length of his in his trousers pressing in the against your inner thigh as you groan into his mouth.

Tugging on the strands of hair again, parting your lips so his tongue can stroke yours, just as your own hips roll up to meet his.

It’s not long before your make-out turns sloppy, the scratch of his beard against your neck as his teeth just press against the hollow under your ear.

An ache that blooms into pleasure as his teeth pinch, lip suck. The swipe of his tongue afterwards, leaving a pretty mark for later.

All while you tear at those last two buttons that hold together his white, wrinkled dress shirt - greedily mapping the warm, freckled skin beneath with eager fingers.

“I’ve thought about this,” His breath is warm against your throat, a soft sigh as he searches blindly for the closure of your dress.“Endlessly. Hoping every time that we might end the night together.”

“Me too.” You echo the relief in his voice, helping him with the zipper, his body only lifting for the few moment it takes for you to rid the fabric from your body.

The ache of want thuds between your thighs, his leg sliding back into place as you tug him back down on top of you. Your sigh then - feeling the strong muscles press against you, as his nose brushes your cheek, his lips pressing against your jaw.

Fingers that trace from your shoulder, to a breast. A gentle squeeze, marveling in the way you feel in his hand. The brush of a thumb against against a taut nipple before it ghosts further down.

The welcome weight of him shifting as he lifts himself off you, just enough for his fingers to slide and press against your center. Feeling where the fabric dampens for him, his breath warm against your skin as his mouth opens in a groans.

“So wet, darling.” He says it like it’s a gift, something special just for him. And tonight - it is.

Your hips rock on their own, until he’s pressing, circling his fingers. Smearing your arousal against the soft silk, your own fingers biting into the muscles of his biceps.

“Only you.” The answer comes breathy, needy. Reaching with one hand to catch the waistband, pushing them down to your thighs.

“Mmm. Impatient, are we?” He coos, pleased, and you make a low sound in your throat - drawn out and sharp.

As if you haven’t waited ages. Days and weeks and months.

“Please.” You beg, and mercifully - he listens.

Lips pressing open-mouthed against your neck before they seal against the skin again. Fingers that cup you, feeling the heat, before one teases at your slit. Sliding easily over your slick folds, before the tip of a finger presses into you.

It’s bliss, after the wait. Your head tilts back with a groan, baring more of your neck for him to mark. His hips rolling against yours in time with the way he fucks you with his finger. A steady pump, a curl. His panting breath growing just as loud as yours in the quiet hotel room.

“Ben.” You groan, and he treasures the way it sounds on your lips, the way they part for him while he’s buried in you.

It’s affects him, his name on your lips - his fingers still moving as he shifts, easing himself down the bed. Until he’s level with your hips, nudging your thighs apart with a shoulder.

Touching you like he did on your first wedding date together. Fingers that began with the barest ghost, tease - now firm and sure. Finding what you like, what makes your hands curl into fists as his mouth lowers.

The peek of his tongue as it presses against you, warm and soft against your clit. You’re choking on your breath as he hums, the sound turning into a low, needy groan as he tastes you.

Eyes fluttering shut for a moment before they’re fixing on you, ensnaring. As he encourages you to move, pressing yourself against his tongue, his mouth. Watching you, like he does when you dance.

With eyes had only ever been on yours.

It’s too much - his attention, his touch - after all the waiting. Overwhelming you with the steady plunge of his fingers and the pointed flick of his tongue - it’s not long at all before you’re crying out, his hand pinning down one of your thighs as they threaten to close around him.

As he feels your release, how you gush for him. Tongue dipping down to taste you, fingers withdrawing to press and circle against your clit. Relishing in the sound of your moan, the sound drawn out in the darkened room, one he’s thought often about hearing.

It’s as lovely as he imagined, a tightness in his trousers that borders on uncomfortable, now.

You tremble against him, rocking into the press of his fingers and swipe of his tongue, as the last waves of pleasure wash over you, leaving you breathless, eyes half-lidded.

Loose-limbed now, fingers uncurling from where your nails bit into your palms, leaving little marks. Lazily pushing yourself up as you reach for him, your hand searching clumsily for his belt as his mouth meets yours.

It’s a heady feeling, tasting yourself on Ben as his tongue sweeps against your lip. Feeling him, your palm pressing against the front of his trousers, before you’re working open his belt.

Shoving the fabric down with you, and then off - leaving his cock to hang heavy between his thighs, swollen and thick. A smiling flash of teeth as he catches you looking, your own mental confirmation that every inch of him is pretty.

His skin velvet-soft when you reach out, fingertips sliding along his shaft. As he hovers over you, lowering you down to the mattress once more, as you open eagerly for him.

Kneeling between your thighs as his fingers press against your center, coming back slick. Wrapping his hand around his cock, a rough, low sigh as his fist jerks.

You’re imagining what it would be like to taste him, to hold him in your mouth, against your tongue. Seeing if the the sounds he’d make would be as beautiful as his voice, his laugh.

He brings you back with a touch, his palm cupping your face, drawing your gaze to his soft, blue eyes, “Do you still want this, darling?”

The this sliding hot and hard against your center, a low moan that comes from your chest as your thighs nudge wider, as your body arches into his. Close enough that your chin can lift, that your mouth can press against his in the seconds after your answer.

“God, yes.”

There’s a groan in his throat as his hips shift forward, as he finally sinks into you - where you’re soaked from his mouth and your release. The stretch pleasurable as he eases in with a slow thrust, burying himself in your heat.

“Oh, darling. I should have made you jealous ages ago,” He sighs, as you clutch as his shoulders, as he fills you, “You feel incredible.”

Your laugh turns into a sharp inhale of breath when he find himself pressed deep, your thighs clamping against his hips unconsciously.

“Fuck,” you breathe, eyes fluttering shut with your gasp, opening again just in time to see him smile.

Fingers cup the back of his neck, like before. His lips on yours, sharing the same breath as he eases out, before snapping back in. A gasp that begins in your throat and ends in his as he does it again, the ridges of his cock stroking inside you so perfectly.

Holding himself above you, so he can watch your face, before you’re both watching the way his cock disappears into you. You’re already feeling the coiling in your belly, the sated ache returning - fueled by receiving the thing you’ve been wanting for so long.

Him.

Because tonight, he is yours. All yours. You can see it now, how he looks at you with half-lidded eyes. The scrape of teeth against his lip before they’re parting, panting when he feels you clench around him.

As he lowers himself, the heavy thrust of his hips turning into a rough grind, his chest pressed to yours. Your face buried in his neck, arms wrapped tightly around another until you’re not sure where he ends, and you begin.

The tip of his cock nudging against a spot that steals your breath, until you’re clutching at him, your hips rolling in time with his.

“Will you give me another, love?” He coos in your ear, a kiss pressed to the skin just beneath, “Can you come for me again?”

You’re nodding, eyes closed tight as you focus on the narrowed point of pleasure, swiftly building, “Yes. Ben, please-”

“Show me then, darling. Let me feel you.”

Everything winding up tight, as he shift just a bit. Fitting a hand between you, fingers curling over your mound to press at your clit, as your mouth searches for his.

Moving together, like you have been, all this time. The circle of his fingers and grind of his cock have your head tilting back, his name on your lips, then, “Oh my god, I’m so close-”

His breath short and harsh as you tremble, then come undone for him. Your cunt pulsing around him, as you moan - your cheek pressed against the coarse stubble of his beard.

Ben’s moan echoing yours, as if he can feel the tight throb in your core, the way your vision goes soft and hazy. His own release on the cusp of yours, his thrusts going sloppy, rutting into your heat.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m going to come.” He rasps, voice tight with a sharp inhale of breath, “Will you take me?”

Still coming down from your own high, your heart pounding in your ears as you gasp out your agreement, “Yes, I want all of you.”

There’s a shudder of breath, a blinking, widening of his eyes. His fingers press into your flesh, hitching your thigh around his hip as groans, thrusts going quick and shallow. The sound from his throat drawing out long and low as his cock throbs, his release spilling inside you.

It’s prettier than you’ve imagined. His sounds, the pinch of his brow, his parted lips as he comes. Chest flexing with the effort, your fingers pressing flat against it again as he hovers over you, now spent.

The dance ends with his forehead brushing yours, before finding your mouth with his. Sighs and smiling and wandering fingers, leisurely mapping over skin.

Making up for all the lost time.

Later - his voice is a rumble beneath your ear, as your head rests on his chest. The sound soothing, as fingers brush the back of your head, down the column of your neck, then your bare shoulder.

“I received an invitation, last week. The RSVP isn’t due yet, but the wedding is in March.”

Your head tilts, chin scraping over the skin before you rest it on a bent arm, “Sounds good. I don’t have anything for March yet.”

His lips twitch, a soft smile, “Well, I wanted to ask if you’d go with me.”

A crease forms between your brow, an eye closing so you can see him better in the dim light, “You don’t have to ask, you know I’d come.”

The smile deepens, a dimple forming just below the little mark on his cheek that you long to press your lips against.

“I want to ask you, darling.” Ben tells you, the hand curling around, thumb brushing against your cheek, “Come with me. Not as part of our agreement.”

A pause, before he clarifies, “As my date.”

It makes your stomach flip, your teeth sinking into your lower lip, “Yeah?”

He nods, and then you’re bracing against him, pushing up. Your mouth pressing to his, stealing a kiss before you answer.

“Then, yes. Always, yes.”

[dilfcember masterlist]

(Tags: @andrewrussgarfield, @luxuryberzatto)

#wwdilfcember #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x you #obi wan kenobi x f!reader #obi wan imagine

203 notes · View notes

friskynotebook · 2 years

Text

Till There Was You

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Asian plus size f!reader

A professor!Obi x librarian!reader modern!AU

cw: food, age gap

Summary: Fall semester seems to be the same as always—until a handsome professor scares you half to death.

The title comes from the song "Till There Was You" from The Music Man. You can listen to the late, great Rebecca Luker's divine version here.

Also on AO3!

Chinatown AU masterlist

“You do know you have an office, right?”

You set the sickeningly sweet Starbucks drink in front of head librarian Bail Organa, perched in front of a computer at the library services desk. Classes were about to begin at Coruscant University—the period everyone working at the campus library referred to as the calm before the storm.

“Yeah, but the third floor is like an island—it’s so far away. How am I supposed to keep up with all the campus gossip?” Bail replied, taking a sip of his liquified sugar. “Oh, that hits the spot. Thanks.”

“How do you even stomach that?” you asked, sipping your own, slightly more dignified pumpkin spice latte. “Isn’t your blood mostly sugar by now?”

“Not according to my doctor,” he teased. “Still healthy as a horse.”

You rolled your eyes and plopped down in the high wheelie chair beside him. “How you aren’t sick every day is beyond me.”

“Says the woman drinking her third pumpkin spice latte this week.”

“Leave me and my inner white girl alone,” you retorted with no real heat. As you logged into your staff account, something caught the corner of your eye.

“What are those books doing over there?” you asked, nodding towards the cart full of books behind you both—an unusual sight, especially when the normally-organized Bail is on duty and refusing to stay in his office.

Bail swallowed down another mouthful of what barely qualified as coffee. “Two of the elevators were down yesterday and we couldn’t reshelve those.”

You frowned. “But the other two were still working, right?”

He gave a sheepish grin. “Well . . . those books are going to the fifth floor . . .”

“Oh come on!” you groaned, throwing your head back in exasperation. “You’re a grown man!”

“The philosophy stacks are scary!” he defended. “They’re shunted off in that dark corner with the lights that never work—”

“That you can put in a maintenance request for at any time—”

“Assuming they’ll even come,” Bail raised a brow.

He had you there. You sighed. “I think I saw the maintenance crew leaving the elevator bay on my way in. You man the desk and I take these back to the stacks?”

“Deal,” he grinned. “You’re the best!”

“And don’t you forget it,” you smirked back, sliding off the chair. You grabbed your coffee, placed it on the cart, and made your way to the now-fixed elevators.

______________________________________________________________

The fifth floor was normally pretty quiet and, for lack of a better term, dead. Even when the campus was in the thick of exam season, the fifth floor was home to the silent study wing and individual silent study rooms—which, according to Bail, only added to the creepy vibe of the floor. Now, however, only a handful of professors and TAs milled around, picking out some required texts for their fall semester classes.

As you made your way to the corner with the philosophy stacks, you took note of the flickering light next to another that had gone completely out. Maybe Bail did have a reason to be creeped out.

Not that you’d ever admit that to him.

With a sigh, you set up the cart and got to work, taking sips of coffee as you went along—until you got to a book that belonged on the top shelf.

And you realized you had left your step ladder down by the library services desk.

“Shit,” you muttered, taking another sip of coffee as you thought about what to do.

Being 5’2” on a good day, you often had to get . . . creative with reaching things above your height. Crossing your arms, you eye up the stacks. Maybe if I’m quick enough, I can use the shelves as a ladder. Like Super Mario Bros. Or something.

It was worth a try, at any rate.

Grabbing the book, you climbed on the stacks, placing one foot on the first shelf and another foot on the second shelf, praying it would support your weight. I look like some deranged Australian spider.

You reached up to the top shelf, sticking your tongue out of the corner of your mouth as you strained, finally getting the book back in place.

“Are you alright?”

If you were more generous to yourself, you’d say the elegant, clipped British accent slightly startled you.

In reality? It scared the shit out of you and almost caused you to fall off the shelves.

Catching yourself just in time, you carefully climbed back down and adjusted your t-shirt, trying to maintain some shred of dignity.

And then you found yourself looking at the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen.

He was older than you, maybe late thirties? Definitely taller than you, though that wasn’t hard to accomplish. He had thick auburn hair with fringe threatening to fall in his face, with a matching beard that only highlighted his strong jawline and the amused smirk on his lips.

And his eyes. Oh, those eyes.

Bright blue, piercing, and framed by gentle crow’s feet, you felt he was staring right into your soul.

Kind of like you were staring at him.

Too late, you remembered to respond. “I’ll, uh, manage.”

The smirk grew as he glanced up at the top shelf. “You call that managing?”

“I call that getting creative,” you teased, turning back to your books. “I would have been fine if someone hadn’t scared the living daylights out of me.”

When you looked back at the mystery man, you could see a hint of concern and remorse clouding the amusement in his eyes. Feeling your heart clench for reasons you didn’t understand, you hurried to say something else before he could respond.

“But feeling your heart race is the best way to know you’re still alive, right?” You cringe internally. God, that was stupid.

Your lame joke worked—any trace of sadness was gone when you caught another glimpse at him. “I suppose that’s one way to look at it.”

“Is there anything I can help you with?” you asked, remembering it was still, in fact, your job to help patrons.

He furrowed his brow, as if he also remembered what he was supposed to be doing here. “Yes, I’m trying to find some Russell books, B—”

“Bertrand, I’m familiar,” you nodded. Finally that minor in philosophy was coming in handy. “His stuff’s in the next aisle. I can walk you over, if you’d like.”

“Are you sure that won’t be too much trouble?” he asked.

“No trouble at all—it’s on my way,” you replied, pushing the cart along.

“So, do you often find yourself scaling the shelves like Tom Cruise?” he grinned, cutting his eyes over to you.

You snorted. “I doubt I looked as cool as him just now. I would have gone with a drunk monkey.”

“Well, I was trying to be kind.”

“And to think I’m here helping you out of the kindness of my heart,” you grinned, pulling up to the section with Bertrand Russell’s works.

“Is that what we’re calling it now? I thought it was part of your duty as an—” he glanced down at the badge hanging down from your pin-adorned lanyard. “—assistant librarian.”

“Ah, but you missed the fine print,” you chided, shelving more books.

He frowned. “Oh?”

“See, my duty only extends to patrons who don’t mock the librarians as they do their very important work.”

“Like testing the strength of the bookshelves?”

“Precisely.”

You both fell into a companionable silence as he looked for his books and you continued shelving—and if it took you longer than usual to shelve, well, how would he know?

After he spent three whole minutes staring at a shelf with a deeply furrowed brow, you decided to help him out.

“Having a hard time there?”

“How do you people find anything in this blasted library?” he muttered.

You raised a brow. “Isn’t this kind of your old stomping grounds? You give off big philosophy professor energy”

He glanced over. “What makes you say that?”

“Why else would a British guy be looking for Bertrand Russell’s finest work in a campus library before classes even begin?” You turned to him with a smirk, one hand on your hip.

He looked taken aback, almost as if he was . . . impressed? No, not a chance. “You got me,” he nodded. “Nice work.”

“You still didn’t answer my question.”

“If you must know, as much as I love being in the library, I don’t spend much time in the stacks. I’ve never been fond of the Dewey decimal system.” He grabbed the elusive book.

“Really? Because you look like you would be its biggest fan,” you teased back, though you know it’s not entirely true—you doubted Melvil Dewey had a trim, athletic figure or beautiful blue eyes.

“Very funny,” he drawled, snatching up The Conquest of Happiness. “I think that’s the last book.”

“Looks like I’m done here too,” you replied, gesturing to your empty cart, which only held your also-empty coffee cup.

He nodded towards the elevator bank. “Shall we?”

______________________________________________________________

Bail looked up when you and the handsome professor returned to the library services desk. “Obi-Wan Kenobi, as I live and breathe!”

The mystery man—Obi-Wan—broke out into a wide grin, greeting Bail with a hug when he came around the desk.

“You two know each other?” you asked, tossing the cup in the recycling.

“We go way back,” Bail confirmed. “Finally decided to join us on the dark side, huh?”

Before you could question what he said, your friend Kali rushed over to the desk.

“Can you cover the reserves desk for me for a bit? The pita I got from Twiggs is not agreeing with me,” she pleaded.

“Go ahead,” Bail nodded. “I’ll check Obi-Wan out myself.”

“Alright,” you agreed, turning to Obi-Wan. “It was nice meeting you, professor.”

He grinned back, his eyes sparkling. “Until next time,” he replied, saying your name.

You tried to ignore the flash of warmth in your belly at the sound of his honey-rich voice saying your name as you walked away.

No-pressure tags (please message me if you want to be added or removed!): @obiknights @wickedscribbles

#obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi x f!reader #obi-wan x f!reader #Obi Wan Kenobi x reader #obi wan x reader #Obi Wan Kenobi x f!reader #obi wan x f!reader #fanfic #fic #Star Wars fic #my writing

27 notes · View notes