#obi-wan Kenobi x y/n

[ddejavvu]

Betrayal - Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Summary: months into the war and it's not as exhilarating as you'd hoped - not for your battalion, anyway. when the air conditioning in your compound blows, an old friend brings his tech genius of a padawan to fix it for you. while anakin is working, you convince his master to spar for old times' sake, and simple adrenaline gives way to a landslide of long-buried feelings neither of you should have for each other.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni, fem!reader, jedi!reader, reader is a general, sweat kink (? they are really sweaty and i talk about it a lot), oral (m+f receiving), semi-public sex (risk of being caught), sparring, lightsaber use, throatfucking, messy kisses, scratching/marking, lotsa spit, obligatory 'had you said the word' (sorry satine i had to steal his line)

WC: 16.9K / navigation / inbox

A/N: sorry this took me so long to finish! i didn't have time to write for like two months but it's done now and i hope you enjoy it <3 this is set a couple months/a year into the clone wars, but i have chosen to fuck with their ages a little bit. in this, anakin is like 12-14-ish, even though he was older in AOTC when the war began.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Neglecting the option of taking a padawan under your wing is what stuck you on this humid, blazing, hellish planet, and you almost regret it. You’d wanted more freedom in your duties, didn’t want a youngling clinging to your leg begging for help with their rudimentary saber drills, so instead you swapped it for what you thought would be constant battle, exhilarating speeder chases, and the glory of proving yourself. Unbecoming of a Jedi to wish for, yes, but you’ve never claimed to be Council-worthy.

Now your butt is sticking to the chair you’re planted in, overlooking a very empty, very desolate, very boring outpost. It’s so hot that you think you’ve melted into the chair and fused with its fabric. Standing might tear your skin away from your flesh, leaving an imprint of you behind in your seat.

“General,” One of your clone troopers calls, sticking his head through the doorway to your station, “Nothing on my scanners.”

“Nor on mine,” You drawl lazily, “We’re scheduled to be inspected today. Any word from the crew?”

“None.” He laments, “I just hope they bring a droid that can fix the cooler.”

The base you’re stationed to isn’t always this disgusting. The structure is wired with an air conditioning system to keep the inside much cooler than the outside, but after a rather unfortunate incident with a freshly manufactured astromech droid with some crossed wirings, both lay broken and singed in the maintenance bay. Your clones don’t know how to tinker with droids or heating systems, and you’d probably wind up just as ash-covered if you tried.

“Alert me when they land,” You order the trooper, leaning your forehead against the cool metal of the scanner screen before you, “I want to have time to change into an outfit I haven’t soaked through with sweat.”

The scanner grows warm against your flushed skin far too soon. Everything is hot, and sticky, and gross, and you find yourself yearning for the cold showers you used to despise at the temple. Perhaps you yearn for the temple in general, for the familial atmosphere shared among overconfident Padawans and exasperated Masters. You think specifically of Obi-Wan Kenobi, a man you’d trained with, now Master to his apprentice Skywalker.

You haven’t seen the pair in years, but you remember Anakin’s blonde mop of hair, as well as his penchant for chaos. Watching Obi-Wan’s eyes fill with horror at whatever shenanigans his Padawan had gotten into that day was part of what helped you make the decision to decline one yourself, though you hold no distaste for the boy. He was simply young and untrained in the ways of the Jedi, and you were not a patient enough person to gracefully navigate that predicament then. You’re not sure you are now, either.

Even though you know you’re better suited on your own, you wonder if you’d have been more fulfilled with a Padawan learner of your own. Surely anything could be better than this, wasting away- rotting on a planet hot enough to boil your blood if you stepped outside without proper protection.

Your base is secluded and temperature-controlled, even if the contraption that the Republic had fashioned under pressure of time to keep you isolated is rather crude. It’s, in essence, a large dome, seals in place to ensure that vessels can land and takeoff without destroying the temperature control. It’s cooler within the dome than it is outside of it, but the hurriedly-designed system can only do too much, and you greatly depend on the air conditioning to do its job. Now that it’s not, you’re irritated from the heat, and you wish that the inspection team would just hurry up already. The patience you’d had drilled into you from your early years as a Youngling is nowhere to be found under the pressure of a heat wave, and your foot taps impatiently against the floor while you itch for some action.

You think it’s rather pathetic that you yearn for excitement so badly that you’re anxiously awaiting the inspection team. Their job takes barely an hour, a scan of your equipment and a survey of your troops. They’ll walk in and out without so much as a pleasantry, but you long for something new, something more, something exciting.

The call over your comms comes over an hour later, a time in which you remain at your post but begrudge it all the while. “General,” Your trooper barks, voice staticky and rough over the channel, “We’ve got visitors. Inspection team’s here. Initiating landing procedure.”

“Copy that,” You bolt out of your seat, barely remembering to lean over the microphone to reply, “Thank you.”

Finally.

Finally, someone new to talk to, even if they have the same face as everyone else you’ve spoken to on this long, dreary assignment. You’re friendly with your troopers, of course, but that itch for more is back in your brain, igniting you with vigor you don’t normally possess as you rush to greet the inspection team.

However, when you reach the landing bay, and the ship’s hydraulics hiss, clone troopers aren’t the only ones to disembark. Jedi robes make their appearance, shrouding the very man you’d just thought about, as well as the child by his side. 

Obi-Wan wears the years that have passed since you last saw him, but time has treated him well. His hair is longer now, gone is that stiff Padawan buzz. His braid is missing as well, giving way to luscious strawberry blonde strands that he’s slicked back so that they drag against the back and sides of his neck. Longer hair looks good on him, just as it had when he was fifteen and had refused a haircut for months in a typical, if rather tame, display of teenage rebellion. Anakin is also significantly older than you’d kept track of, but he can’t be older than fourteen if his lanky limbs and awkward demeanor are any evidence.

Obi-Wan smiles at you, and you nearly forget to shove down that shameful part of you that wants to take more out of him than he can give you. Even as Padawans you’d always gravitated towards the man opposite you, sneaking out to roam the gardens after hours together or sharing sly glances across mission briefings. But he’s an honorable Jedi Master - a member of the Council itself, so you’ve heard - and you wrestle down your repressed feelings to grin at him.

“General Y/L/N,” He greets with a smile so charming you lament that the Jedi Order interrupted his chances of being a model.

“Master Kenobi,” You greet, but you know he’ll chide you for the honorific if you use it more than once, “I wasn’t aware you’d be on the inspection team.”

“We’re not. Technically.” Obi-Wan admits, arm coming to press against Anakin’s back and nudge him forwards, “We got word that your air conditioning system is out, as well as one of your new astromechs. Anakin here is still an excellent mechanic, I thought we’d come out to offer you some reprieve from the heat.”

Anakin looks embarrassed by the attention that’s fallen upon him, in typical pubescent fashion, and you take pity on the timid teenager, casting your glance back at his Master, “Maker, thank you. We’re melting out here.”

“I can imagine,” Obi-Wan laughs, and you turn again to Anakin who’s anxiously awaiting your orders.

“Anakin, if you could fix our air conditioning, that would be wonderful. Honestly, I’m not even sure I want the droid fixed, it’s what got us into this mess in the first place. But they’re both over there,” You point to the shorted out panels, “And my troopers will offer you any supplies you need, like tools or wiring or refreshments.”

“Thank you.” Anakin nods, hands clasped behind his back obediently even if he looks mortified to be the center of attention once more, “I’ll have things up and running as soon as possible.”

“I’m leaving you here,” Obi-Wan warns the boy, pointing an accusatory finger at him, “I don’t often leave you alone with machinery and tools, Anakin, for reasons we’re both aware of. Promise me you will not do anything reckless?”

“I promise,” Anakin mutters reluctantly, and you avert your eyes so he has some semblance of privacy.

“I mean it, Anakin. This is no time to experiment with your technical prowess. You simply fix their system and you wait for me back on the ship, understand?”

“Master,” Anakin pleads, “I understand.”

“Very well. Get to your duties,” Obi-Wan dismisses the boy, turning to you only after he sees his Padawan crouch by the singed panel.

“He shouldn’t take long. He most likely will try to tinker with the astromech, though.” Obi-Wan smiles sympathetically, “He’s not one to leave a droid unusable.”

“I remember he had a particular talent for mechanics,” You muse, starting off towards the main base intent on leading Obi-Wan to your rec room, “If I recall correctly, he figured out how to inconspicuously rewire his communicator to give you an ‘unavailable’ signal if he didn’t like what you were asking him to do.”

Obi-Wan scoffs as he lets you lead through the doorway, “Yes, my Padawan has always had very selective hearing. I’m sure you don’t mind not having one of your own.”

“That’s one of the reasons I justify my choice,” You chuckle, letting the door shut behind you as you make your way through the halls. The base that the Republic had granted you is spacious, even decked out with training facilities and rec rooms interspersed throughout your rows of quarters, but it’s unbearably hot and you’re tired of being cooped up inside of it.

“This isn’t bad for a base,” Obi-Wan muses, robes swishing behind him as he strides beside you, “But I hope Anakin fixes that cooling system soon.”

“Try being stationed here permanently,” You scoff, tugging at the sweat-soaked neckline of your tunic, “I have long since abandoned my robes.”

“Do you have somewhere I could set this?” Obi-Wan asks, fingers catching the front of his cloak as he slings it off. It falls gracefully from his shoulders, and he holds the garment up as he laments still having to wear the rest of his robes.

“You can leave it in my quarters,” You veer sharply to the right, letting him catch up, “They’re just down this hallway.”

There’s unmarked doors on either side of the corridor, and you’re still impressed that each clone trooper knows where their bed is at night. Your door has a plaque beside its frame that reads ‘General’s Quarters,’ and you’re not confident that you could navigate the halls without it. You type in your access code, and the door slides open with a hiss.

“Just set it on the bed,” You gesture towards your mattress, “If we have some time, I thought,” You reach into the closet, pulling out your seldom-used lightsaber, “We could spar.”

Obi-Wan laughs, discarding his cloak onto your bed as his eyes crinkle happily at the corners, “You’re lacking a bit of excitement here, aren’t you, Y/N? There’s no way you’d duel me willingly after I took you down the last time.”

You’d sparred together since you’d been handed a saber for the first time. Sure, your initial weapons were wooden, then training blades designed to be duller than their more advanced counterparts, before you’d finally been granted allowance to manufacture one of your own. But there were no more dedicated sparring partners than the two of you, and you can tell the man opposite you is fond of the reminder you’ve given him, even if he is trying to tease you.

“You did not take me down,” You gawp, “I mean- yes, I was on the floor, but I wasn’t done! You didn’t win!”

“Mm, yes. I didn’t win because no one did.” Obi-Wan sends you a sly grin, “Anakin interrupted us, don’t you remember? We never got to finish.”

“Then a rematch,” You insist, gesturing towards the open doorway, “Once and for all we’ll prove who the better duelist is.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll win. After all, I can tell you spend every waking moment practicing and making sure you lose none of your fighting abilities,” Obi-Wan’s hand darts out to switch on your holotable, revealing an in-progress game of chess. You’re losing.

“I’ve only been using that as of late,” You snap, defensive, “It’s insufferable to train without proper ventilation. And only when I’m not on duty. I don’t spend all of my time sitting and playing chess.”

“Losing at chess.” Obi-Wan arches an eyebrow, finally stepping out of your quarters so that you can shut it once more, “Come, Y/N, show me to your training grounds.”

The training room is just as hot as everywhere else on the base. You walk through the doors and humid air greets you, something that wrinkles Obi-Wan’s nose and rustles his mustache.

 “God, I hope your Padawan knows what he’s doing,” You groan, rolling up the sleeves of your own tunic but jumping excitedly into action despite the heat. You ignite your saber, slightly embarrassed by the thrill that the weapon gives you as it thrums to life. You haven’t felt this in a long time, at least, not paired with the thrill of battle. It’s significantly less awe-inspiring to ignite a saber against a training droid you know wouldn’t be able to singe your tunics if you stood stock still. Obi-Wan brings his to life as well; blue and green lights bathe your faces.

“I’ll go easy on you.” He smiles infuriatingly, cocking his head slightly to one side, “Ready?”

“Ready.” You jolt right, a fakeout before you dart left instead. He catches on rather quickly, though, and his blade clashes against yours as you aim for his leg.

“Nice start,” Obi-Wan admits, “But you can’t rely on misdirection for your entire fight. You’ll have to overpower me.”

“I could easily overpower you,” You swing left, breaking the contact of your two sabers, then jabbing so that he has to move his foot out of the way to avoid the plasma. He stumbles, barely catching himself against his back foot, but it gives you time enough to bring your blade up and around to nick at his shoulder, a hole now slashed into his tunic.

“Okay,” He stands straight, eyeing the tear in his clothing warily, “I won’t go easy on you.”

“Never underestimate your opponent,” You tease proudly, saber still ignited, “That’s one for me, Obi-Wan.”

“That doesn’t count,” He scoffs, standing at the ready, “I told you I’d go easy on you. Now I’m serious.”

“All I’m hearing is excuses,” You gloat, feet light as you step around him, “You lead this time, Kenobi.”

He does. He swings downwards, and you block your face with your own blade to stop him. He nearly jabs at your gut before you can prevent it, and you feel the heat from his blade as your own comes to block his.

You fling his weapon away with yours, and he lets you. After such a long period of no action (and shamefully little meditation) your abilities with the Force have grown slightly weaker, as have your regulatory skills. You can still sense what he’s going to do when he squares his shoulders, but you’re almost not fast enough to interpret those senses, and you barely make it to block him from swinging his blade in a fiery circle that would clip the edge of your arm.

“You’re rusty,” He taunts, his own Force abilities stronger than ever as his presence seeps through the cracks in your mind. You try to force him out, but it takes effort, and it’s effort you can’t expend elsewhere. It means that you can’t foresee his intent to aim for your face, and his blade hums inches away from your cheek as he holds it there.

You freeze; you’re caught.

We’re even,” You grunt, sweat beading at your forehead, “But we’re not finished.”

“Hang on,” He disengages his saber, letting the apparatus clatter to the ground as he tugs at one of the outer layers of his robes, “I’m going to shed a few things.”

“Stripping will not help your cause.” You tease, “I’m not distracted by sex appeal.”

Clearly, he isn’t expecting your jab, and he lets his mouth fall open as he slings off one of his garments, an incredulous laugh filling his throat.

“Y/N. You’ve obtained a foul mouth somewhere along your career. It certainly wasn’t in the temple.”

“It’s the clones,” You groan, “Try being stationed with a troop of grown men who went through puberty in record time. They’ve got the appetite of an adult with the filter of a teenage boy.”

“They’ve never tried anything with you,” Obi-Wan narrows his eyes questioningly, and you try to avoid looking at the sweat glistening against his tanned neck as he strips to his base layer.

“No, they’re respectful.” You assure him, “Just crass.”

“Yes, well,” Obi-Wan frowns distastefully, “They haven’t had Jedi training. I suppose I’m not surprised.”

He stands there for a moment with only his undershirt covering his chest, then decides that it’s still too warm, tugging at its hem to raise it over his head.

You feel your insides ignite with a fire you haven’t felt in a long time when his bare chest is exposed, skin marred and riddled with coarse, wiry hair. His stomach is flat but not as tight as you remember in your youth, softer now. You can tell there’s an impressive layer of muscle beneath the milky white skin, though, even if it’s not outwardly visible. He uses his tunic to wipe the sweat off of his face so you’re granted a moment to ogle him, your mouth watering as you try to conceal your thoughts. 

“Okay. Enough with this child’s play.” You shake your head, letting Obi-Wan have just enough time to toss aside his tunic before you plant your feet against the mat. Obi-Wan stands at the ready, both of your sabers ignited, “I want a real match. A long one, now that we’re warmed up. Best two out of three, Kenobi. Winner takes all.”

“Winner gets to stand in front of the air conditioning vent when Anakin gets it up and running,” Obi-Wan suggests, sweat trailing down his neck and over his chest. You avert your eyes, lest the fraile state of mind you’re in betrays you.

“Fine.” You shrug, reaching for the hem of your vest. It’s tactical, good for keeping with you on duty, but it’s etching lines of sweat into your back now. You sling it off, letting it land in a heap similar to Obi-Wan’s robes, and exposing the tank top you have on beneath it. “I know just the one I’ll pick. In my room, there’s one just above the bed. Maybe I’ll let it hit my back while I win at holochess.”

“I think the heat might be getting to you,” Obi-Wan cracks, a slight heave to his chest as he tries regulating his breathing. It’s hard when you’re as hot as you are to get enough oxygen, and you’re doing the same. It’s awfully difficult not to indulge in the view of his bare chest rapidly rising and falling, and you feel a tug below your gut as a vision flashes through your mind. It’s of what else could make him pant in such a way, and you can’t afford to entertain the thought, not around him. “I’m not sure which outcome is more delusional; that you’ll win this duel, or that you’ll win at holochess.”

“You’re wasting time,” You croon, charging with your blade poised for battle so that you have no more time to fantasize, “I think you’re scared.”

“Do I feel afraid?” Obi-Wan laughs, blocking your attack with little effort and redoubling to launch one of his own. The clatter of your sabers almost drowns out his words, “Reach out, Y/L/N, all you’ll feel is confidence.”

“I’m not sure I could feel you if I tried,” You lament, chest heaving as you block one of his swings, “Not while my mind is occupied with our duel. I am rusty, you were right.”

“Practice more,” He chides, “Less chess, more meditation.”

“One is a lot more boring than the other!” You groan, barely managing to get your arm up in time to take a shot at his own, “And the less boring one is chess, so that’s really saying something.”

“It may be boring but it is beneficial,” Obi-Wan lectures you, and you wonder if he thinks you’re still a Padawan. You fight with heaving breaths and monumental effort, the heat sucking your energy out through the sweat that drips down your skin. He turns and his back is glistening, which is really not a sight that helps you to stay focused.

“Now I’m starting to see why Anakin tinkered with his communicator,” You call, as Obi-Wan whirls around your left side, “You’re very dull as a Jedi Master!”

You have to throw yourself onto the floor to avoid a swing at your head, your right shoulder aching as you do so. But you scramble away from him, righting yourself and miraculously avoiding the blade of your saber coming into contact with the training mat.

You stumble to your knees, driving the forward momentum you have against Obi-Wan as he tries blocking you. You nearly get a nick out of his pants, but he pushes you backwards with the threat of his blade, and you fall with your back to the mat.

Your stomach drops when a blue blade hums hot and bright near your throat, its tip directed at your jugular. It doesn’t matter that it’s on its training setting; it’s inescapable and daunting when it’s an inch from your skin. You’re done for. 

“I may be dull,” Obi-Wan pants, beard glistening as sweat streams down his neck. His chest heaves as he speaks, bare and open for your eyes, and his pink tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth to dart along his lips, “But I am victorious. Does this remind you a little bit of the last time we fought?”

It does. He’d been standing over you then as he is now, and you’d had to fortify your mind back then not to let slip vulgar thoughts about being on the floor below him. His thighs, meaty with muscle and strong from training, are hidden behind loose pants, but their crotch has tightened slightly, a chub to what should be a relaxed surface.

A pang of arousal shoots down your spine, and suddenly the lightsaber near your throat isn’t the most daunting thing in the room. It’s Obi-Wan.

He swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing as you lay beneath him.

“Your thoughts betray you,” He observes, and you feel his invasive presence in your mind, sucking out the private thoughts coursing through your brain. They’re of panting breaths, heaving chests, wandering hands, and meshing tongues; passionate embraces, intimate attachments. Things no Jedi should fantasize about, not under the code. Things that should bring shame to you, and maybe they do, and maybe you like it.

“Your body betrays you,” You’re able to muster, swallowing the saliva pooling in your mouth as you glance pointedly at his bulge. It’s only grown since you’d last glanced at it; evidently your visions did something to him too.

He sees, or perhaps, feels what you see, freezes, then clicks his saber off. The blade retracts with a hiss and there is a distinct vacuum of sound where its humming once was. He breaks the unnerving silence with a clatter as he tosses it aside, feet still firmly planted on either side of your hips. 

“It’s natural.” He weakly supplies, a poor defense, “It’s adrenaline-fueled, nothing more.”

“Really? So when you duel sith lords, when you chop the heads off of battle droids, you walk away with a stiff dick?” You carefully observe his body language, feet poised like he might bolt if you make any sudden moves. He’s flighty, and you have to make your next moves carefully.”

“Y/N,” He begins, his voice weak, “I wish you wouldn’t use such foul language.”

“Is it the language that bothers you?” You push your elbows against the mat, hoisting yourself up at an obtuse angle to meet his eye better, “Or is it the truth it carries? Obi-Wan, you were right. It’s natural. And it is not something to be ashamed of.”

“It is against the Code,” He reasons, his voice still fighting to sound resolute. He offers no other reasoning, and you know it’s because he has none.

“It’s not.” You insist, “The Code is ancient and rigid. And celibacy is not required, only a level head.”

“That’s the problem,” He chuckles weakly, “I don’t have a level head when it comes to you, Y/N.”

“You seem as though you do.” You press cautiously, careful not to push your luck, “I’ve never felt anything unprofessional about your feelings towards me.”

“That’s because I haven’t been around you in a long time,” He admits, “Not consistently. I was better at controlling it- no, hiding it when we were Padawans. I had to do it every day, it was natural to me. But I am out of practice now, and I have been since you were stationed here. I barely have the ability to hide how I feel about you, Y/N. And- and it is not something the Council would approve of.”

You sit up now, fully straightened. You’re still between his legs, but you’d need to rise to your knees for your face to be level with his bulge. You plan to.

“The Council is not here. Nor can they see us, or hear us, or feel us. They will not know what we do, Obi-Wan.”

“I will know.” He breathes, his voice growing weaker each time he tries raising it against you, “Y/N, I will never forget a thing we do together on this base. If we… If you touch me, I will remember every brush of your skin against mine for eternity. If you- kiss me, I will never be able to put the thought of your lips on mine out of my head. And I would not know how to live without it for the rest of my life.”

Your heart sinks in your stomach like a stone in water. He’s loyal to the Order, he always has been. But you’d been so blinded by isolation, so convinced by your own delusions, that you’d assumed his loyalty to you would be stronger. But it’s not, and you can’t earnestly be angry with him for it.

You swallow what little saliva has accumulated around your tongue to give yourself something to do, then rise to your feet.

“It sounds like you should walk away.” You mutter regretfully. His eyes hold the same feelings, strikingly painful. He nods, almost imperceptibly, but before he can follow your orders, you continue.

“But will you forgive yourself if you do?”

You feel it, his swell of emotions. Every single one is unbridled, yearning, heartache, fondness, want; all of them unleashed from the man whose mind is usually a fortress. They’re washing over you like waves, invading your brain and turning your thoughts their colors. 

“No. I couldn’t,” He admits, “But-” and there’s always a but, “The Council would never forgive me if I didn’t.”

“They won’t know.” You insist, but it’s lost on him, “Obi-Wan, please make a decision. Who is more important, you or the Council?” Then in a more timid, soft voice, as his soft eyes bore into you and beg for mercy, you give him the opposite, “Who is more important… me or the Council?”

He kisses you. There is no warning, no shift in his Force signature, only his hands on your face and his lips on your own. There is strength in his touch, his hands firm where they pull your cheeks ever-so-slightly towards his face as if he’s trying to mash them into his own. His beard is rough and grating against your face, but it’s not unpleasant, especially when it brings with it his lips. His lips, which are much softer than you’d have imagined them, merely frame your own. The kiss is sweet but chaste, and the only indication you have that he wants more is the way that he holds you against him. Otherwise you’d mistake his courtesy for disinterest, and you tilt your head slightly sideways to encourage more enthusiasm from him.

When your lips reconnect he sighs, a breath from his nose that fans over your top lip. He’s letting you lead, letting you dictate whether you want to keep kissing him or whether you’ll suddenly switch positions; it’s like he’s afraid that you’ll rip off a mask and reveal yourself to be Master Windu, scolding him for his reckless passion. But of course you don’t, and you lick gently against the plush of his bottom lip instead.

He hums at the feeling of your tongue against his mouth, but he’s suddenly pushing against your cheeks instead of pulling.

“Are you absolutely sure,” He starts, but can’t seem to resist the temptation to steal another kiss from your spit-slicked lips, “That you- mm, that you want this? Because I cannot-” He breaks off with a weary, pleading, defeated look in his beautiful eyes, “I cannot turn back if we go further. If we proceed… I will not be able to forget what we do. If you’re not interested… please tell me now, so that I may save myself from loving you for an eternity that you do not wish to share with me.”

You scoff, moving in for another kiss at his lips. He doesn’t reciprocate, only pushing you back so that you can respond.

“I just spent five minutes,” You pant, desperate to reconnect your lips, “Bargaining with you to get you to forget about your nerves. And you don’t think I want this?”

You try surging forwards again but he holds you back, eyes still begging for your words.

“Please. I need to hear you say it.” He seems almost self-conscious, worried you’re not interested in him the same way he’s interested in you. But you have been since you can remember, and you’re more than willing to work around the unconventional aspects of your relationship if it means you can have him, even just for today.

“I want you,” You breathe, the exhale hitting his lips, “Please- Obi-Wan, I want you. I want you no matter what the Code says. No matter what the Council says; I want you.”

He looks like he could cry. He is devoted to the Order, far more than you have seen most Jedi, and to hear you choose him over the Code must mean a great deal. He pours passion into the kiss you share, chest filling with oxygen that he gulps just to be able to keep his mouth on yours for longer. He consumes you, fingers pulling at your cheeks and tugging you closer still, like he thinks you might fuse if he tries hard enough.

He groans into your mouth, his tongue more exploratory now that you’ve pledged your devotion to him. He’s not afraid of taking now, of getting his hopes up only to be thrown down, and he swipes the wet muscle in a hot stripe over your own tongue. He rolls it against your lower lip, so wonderful to kiss for someone with such lacking experience.

“No one is coming,” You breathe, exhaling against his mouth as your hands wander to his waistband, “No one- no one can see us.”

“I want you in your quarters.” He protests, grabbing your wrists when your hand sinks to his bulge and ghosts over it. He jolts at the unexpected contact, but holds you back, “I want to lay you down, Y/N, I want to indulge in every part of you. Worship you.”

“I will let you,” You moan, tilting your forehead against his and mouthing at his lips in a sloppy kiss, “You may have me any way you want, Obi-Wan. But here, I- I want to have you. I need to have you now,”

“Impatient,” He notes, sounding suspiciously close to lecturing you. But he lets your wrists go, and you sink to your knees instantly. He hears them hit the training mat, knows they must ache, but he can’t find any part of him available to worry about it, not now that your hands are prying greedily at the waistband of his trousers.

He’s a near stranger to physical pleasure, at least in recent years. He’s a grown man, he has urges, but he also has responsibilities, and the constant pressure of an ambitious (read: reckless) young Padawan under his supervision mixed with a quickly-rising rank within the Jedi Order leave him with little time nor interest to indulge in his barest desires. Your hand gently squeezing his clothed bulge as you wrestle with his pants nearly knocks him off of his feet, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle having your warm mouth envelop it.

Finally you tug loose the drawstring within his pants, and yank them down his thighs. They’re seldom bare, you see from the milky white tone of the skin there, but they are muscled and thick like he does not neglect them.

You can’t help yourself when you lean forwards, tongue already protruding from your mouth to lick a fat, wet stripe around one of his thighs. It’s sturdy beneath your tongue that dips into the crease between his skin and the parts of it that are covered by his briefs. His muscles tense like you’ve struck him with a fatal blow, and an open-mouthed groan escapes his lips.

His skin tastes of the sweat that’s currently moistening every inch of your bodies, salty and tantalizing. There’s no escaping it in the brutal heat, but it makes him all the more sexy, his skin glistening before you even get a chance to smear it in your saliva.

You’re guilty of impatience as he accuses, and you can’t resist mouthing at his covered bulge. He’s half-hard, but when your lips purse around the outline of his cock in his briefs he twitches, and you feel him stiffen against the restraints of his underwear on your tongue. 

His knees give out with no warning, and he barely has the foresight to grab desperately at a bench press behind him for stability. He falls quickly to its surface, perching on the edge of it while you desperately chase his cock. You fit your mouth again over his briefs and drool against the fabric, surely soaking it through with your saliva. His cock, though restrained, is heavy and thick on your tongue, making your mouth water and produce enough drool to soak through his entire ensemble. His hands clutch the bench beneath him with white knuckles, and he grits his teeth to stop himself from shouting as you suck at his clothed cock.

“Oh, Y/N,” He pants, voice strained as you get lost in your task and forget that you need to actually pull his briefs down. He reaches for your head, gently nudging you away with his knuckles against your temple.

“Darling, please, I can’t- I won’t last for very long. Please, have me properly.”

He grips at the waistband of his underwear, tugging them down hurriedly and letting his cock spring free. It’s of decent length, but slightly thicker than average, its base shrouded by a patch of curled hair at his groin. It’s a similar caramel color to the rest of his hair, and his sweat has accumulated particularly within its wiry constraints, leaving him musky. The smell might bother you if it were anyone else, if you were anywhere else, but here and now, on your knees for Obi-Wan in the training room, it’s the most disgustingly tantalizing thing you’ve ever smelled in your entire life.

That’s why you bury your face into it, the hair tickling at your skin. His hips jolt as you inhale deeply near the base of his cock, groaning and letting your tongue fall to drag against just the shaft of his erect dick. He’s painfully hard, embarrassingly seconds to orgasm, and your spit now glistening on his length doesn’t help. Or it helps too much; either way, he’s close to cumming and you haven’t even had a chance to put him in your mouth.

“Darling,” He begs, pushing at your forehead once more, speaking through an eternal shortage of breath, “Please, I- it all feels too good. I can’t take it. I won’t last long.”

“That’s okay,” You pant, your breath falling over his cock as it practically pulses with pleasure, “We’re here for a good time, not a long time.”

“Terrible,” He manages to chuckle weakly, but any further chiding he has planned for your cheekiness is cut short when he stops breathing. He actually forgets how when your wet mouth closes around the head of his cock, your tongue licking flat over its head and covering most of its surface area. It’s so much sensation so fast that Obi-Wan has to clench his hands around the bench not to cum right then and there, and he feels pinpricks of pain over his skin that he realizes are from his fingernails digging against his palms. When you draw your head back off of his cock with a slick sound, then move in again to take more of his length into your mouth, his lungs suddenly remember their function, and heave within his chest.

His groans are filthy and they only pool more slick wetness between your thighs as you kneel for him. You don’t care about the ache in your knees, nor the pain in your neck from the slightly awkward angle you’re indulging in him at. All that matters is his cock, heavy and thick on your tongue, sweat and precum alike flooding your taste buds. 

His restraint is put to the test. He’s a member of the Jedi Council, for Force’s sake, and he should have a little more control over himself than this. But it takes almost all of his energy not to buck his hips forwards and plunge the length of his cock down your throat, and it means that he’s not able to devote as much restraint to delaying his orgasm as he’d like.

He’s twitching in your mouth, and even with your faded Force abilities, mental muscles weakened by disuse, you can feel the tension coursing through his veins, hot and wild. You don’t need to look at his strained, white-knuckled grip on the edge of the bench to know that he’s devoting all of his energy to restraining himself, and you take pride in being able to undo Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi with merely your mouth. You indulge in his painful hardness, tongue smoothly caressing the underside of his length as you bob your head back and forth around him. Each time you draw back you flick your tongue up and over the ruddy, leaking head of his cock, something that makes that fiery tension in his body glow even hotter.

“I’m going to-” He warns you, voice petering out weakly as he tries controlling himself, “I can’t- I can’t help it, I’m going to cum.”

“Cum,” You speak in unison, your word coming out muffled as you speak it against his cock. You smooth your hands up his thighs, feeling his muscles impossibly tight beneath your fingers. You stroke them soothingly, encouraging him to unclench his jaw that’s wired so tightly that you’re sure his teeth are on the verge of cracking, “Cum, Obi-Wan, please.”

Even if you hadn’t asked him so kindly, he’s sure he wouldn’t have been able to withhold any longer. Not with your pretty eyes gazing up at him from between his legs, lashes latticing the tender emotions swirling in your gaze. Your fingers slide calmly, sweetly over the expanse of his thighs, and the mere thought of you digging your nails harshly into them and leaving marks is what elicits the final twitch of his dick on your tongue.

Evidently, you’re more in tune with his thoughts than he’d expected. You’d caught the quick image that had flashed through his mind, now completely unguarded to you, and you curl your fingers quicker than he can comprehend, carving searing marks into his thighs that will show up red for at least a week. Paired with the movement of your fingers, you suck hard at his cock, plunging your face forwards to nestle against the base once more. His tip hits the back of your throat with force and it makes you gag, and Obi-Wan isn’t sure what sensation is more overwhelming: the vivid burning at his thighs, the way the tip of his dick nestles so securely into the warm, wet sleeve of your throat, or the way that you’re breathing in his sweat-marred scent like it’s the purest oxygen you’ve ever had in your lungs. All he knows is that together, they’re his undoing, and he lets out a rugged cry; he can’t control himself any longer when pleasure roars through him with a fury he’s almost frightened of. 

He’s always calm, collected, in control. But now he’s grabbing your face with shaking hands as he pumps warm spurts of cum down your throat, holding your jaw steady so that you can’t back away, not that you want to. He holds you in place while his thighs begin to tremble, your tongue continuously smoothing over the underside of his cock while it twitches in your mouth. He keeps himself fully nestled into the back of your throat while he cums, and if he had energy to be embarrassed about cumming as much as he was, he’d be apologizing. But he can’t, not when you’re swallowing him so eagerly, throat convulsing around the head of his cock and only milking more out of him. There’s obscene groans coming from his mouth, the kind that bring heat to your own core, and you think you could get off to the sound a thousand times over if you recorded him now. They’re deep, throaty, and desperate as he holds your face around his cock, gagging you on his dick as his orgasm takes control of him.

A part of your training that hasn’t left you yet was your extensive disaster training, in which you were taught how to extend the time for which you could hold your breath. That comes in especially handy when Obi-Wan’s hands cradle your jaw, keeping you snugly choking around his dick. You have to fight not to draw back at the strange sensation of your throat being plugged while his cum splatters against the back of it,, and you use all of your strength to keep yourself from panicking at the lack of airflow. You’re only slightly ashamed to admit that you’d willingly die like this, a fucktoy for his cock.

Once his orgasm has worked its way through him he seems to remember you can’t breathe, all of the tension having leaked out of his muscles. He inhales with a start, pushing against your cheeks and tugging his cock out of your mouth, “Oh, Y/N, darling- Y/N, are you-?” 

At the sight of your spit-soaked lips, tongue desperately running over them to collect any of the sweat that had accumulated there from being pressed against his pelvis, he lunges forwards to meet his lips with your own. He can taste the slight savory hint of his own release, your tongues meshing wetly and messily. He’s hunching now, even though you’ve straightened up on your knees, and he feels you clumsily palm at his dick, tucking him back away into his briefs. It makes his lips go slack with a gasp even though he’s just finished, and he’s more than eager to take you by the wrists and help you to your feet. You toss his undershirt at him with careless speed, and he nearly gets lost in its beige expanse from the way that his arms shake as he pulls it over his head.

“My quarters,” Your voice is thick and ragged, still recovering from your prior lack of oxygen, “We can- it’s soundproof, no one will know.”

“Yes,” He breathes, legs shaking slightly as he gathers the rest of the clothes he’d shed while sparring with you, “Um- we can... Anakin still hasn’t gotten the air conditioning running.”

“Uh-uh,” You shake your head, feeling nothing from the vent to your left, “Hurry, let’s go before-”

“General,” The door slides open, and you both startle, much less in tune with the force presences of those around you than you’d like to admit. One of your troopers sticks his head through the door, “The kid needs a multitool.”

You blink once, registering a slight soreness at the back of your throat, “Get him a multitool, then.”

You’re sure he can see your haggard appearance, and all apart from the glossy look of your lips looks like you’ve been sparring. Which you have, technically. You just hope Obi-Wan’s trousers don’t look like they’ve only just been hitched up around his waist again, or his shirt barely pulled down over his chest.

“I lost mine, general,” The trooper admits sheepishly. There was an abundance of the supplies that were offered to you before you’d been shipped out to this battle station, and more had been stocked for a long time in one of the supply closets, but your troopers are bored more often than not, and you shudder to think of all of the times they’ve used them as target practice by standing them on the balcony and opening fire. Apparently, you need to request some more from the next inspection team, as well as impress upon your troops the difference between an abundance of resources and useless clutter begging for a blaster wound.

“I have one in my quarters,” You sigh wearily, “Let’s see to it that we don’t misuse our equipment anymore, soldier.”

“Yes, General,” He nods vigorously, stepping out of your way to offer you the open door.

“Obi-Wan,” You turn apologetically, “We’ll have to continue our sparring match after I retrieve the multitool for your padawan. You’re welcome to follow us, though I’m not sure it’s any cooler out there than it is in here.”

“I’d like to stash my clothes somewhere, if you don’t mind,” Obi-Wan holds up the outer garments he’d shed, “I think it gives you somewhat of an unfair advantage if I’m liable to trip over my own tunics.”

You grant him a good-natured laugh as you pass your trooper in the doorway, and all in all, you think that the two of you have done a fantastic job at pretending his dick wasn’t in your mouth only minutes ago.

Your trooper makes the wise decision to stand outside of your quarters when you enter them, although any initial disappointment you’d felt at his poorly-timed request has well worn off by now. That’s all he’s guilty of, anyways; you find their antics amusing despite their destructive nature. It’s not his fault that you’re canoodling with the Jedi master, so you forgive him his abhorrent timing. You beeline for a locker in your closet, punching in the numeric code and letting the squeaky hinges reveal your small weapons store. It’s a multipurpose space, blasters on a rack that’s affixed to the back, a mount for your saber, and a drawer of various other mechanical supplies down below. You throw it open, and Obi-Wan watches you dig for the multitool where he stands by your bed, his tunics laid on your bedspread.

You realize all too late that one of your other mechanical supplies is in full view of the Jedi master standing behind you, black in color for subtlety but unmistakable in shape. It’s phallic and has a second prong that shoots off of the base to vibrate against your clit, something you only use when you're absolutely certain no one can hear. Besides, the sound could very well be mistaken for one of your troopers shaving their scruff, so you have ample opportunity. You snatch the multitool out of the drawer and slam it shut, making your trooper’s shoulders twitch in a quickly concealed wince. You’re thankful that only Obi-Wan was a temporary witness to your lack of organizational skills.

“Here,” You rush to hand it off, forcefully locking the cabinet and thrusting the tool towards the trooper, “Take it- uh, keep it, I’ll put in a request for more supplies tonight.”

“Thanks, General,” He nods warily at you, and you pity the way he’s taken your context clues and misarranged them to view your behavior as standoffish and exasperated with him, “My apologies again.”

“No worries,” You try not to snap at him, unnerved by the abnormal lack of mental pressure from Obi-Wan behind you. He used to tease you abundantly in your youth, prying at your mental shields and slipping snide remarks through the cracks while you fought to keep a straight face, but now that he’s laid his eyes on possibly the most embarrassing item you own, he’s completely still, completely silent.

“Goodbye.” You shut the door with a hydraulic hiss, and stand facing it until Obi-Wan speaks, pretending to fuss with the control panel.

“It seems you overlooked another multitool in that drawer,” His voice finally reaches over the silence, carefully bundled so that the underlying mirth is something you can only guess at, “Now I wonder if your battalion is really the cause of your foul mouth.”

“Shut up!” You whirl on him with cheeks blazing on opposite sides of your face like Tatooine’s twin suns, “Don’t tease me-”

“I’m not teasing you!” He insists, voice sounding aghast, like it’s out of the question, like he’s offended by the accusation, taking your arms into his grip when you look like you might shove him. His face is split into a smile - not a grin, which is reassuring - but a warm smile, even if there is amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“Yes you are,” You scoff, and you have half a mind to pull away when one of his hands releases your arm and anchors itself against your face instead. It’s warm, rough from wear but impossibly gentle. You fight leaning into it for as long as you can, pride still bruised, but he leans in to press his lips against your forehead in a chaste kiss. 

Typical.

You’d gagged on his dick ten minutes ago, and he’s kissing your forehead.

“Darling,” He hums sympathetically, tucking your face against his chest so snugly that you think it was engineered for the curves and bumps of your skin. You relish the hug he traps you in, the tender hold even though you’re interested in something more carnal, feral, hungry. His voice is strong and soothing as he speaks, and the vibrations thrum through his chest and against your face “You had my cock in your mouth not ten minutes ago. I’m not going to make fun of you for having a toy.”

Oh. Perhaps he hadn’t forgotten.

“Such a foul mouth,” You admonish him, tucking your grin away between the haphazardly-righted folds of his tabard. 

He pinches at your side, fingers greedily prying at the soft flesh of your belly through layers of clothing you wish weren’t between your skin and his, “Yes, well, it’s because I’ve had yours all over me.”

His hand, similarly bold to his mouth, flattens out along the curve of your side, tucking into the space above your hip bones. The other stays in place against your cheek, finger running idly across the underside of your jawline. You don’t know whether the shiver that shudders down your spine is due to the ticklish nature of his touch, or the sensual area he’s chosen, but he feels your spine thrum, and he presses further into you like it was an invitation.

“Darling,” He starts, back to that well-practiced hesitancy, “If you still want to…”

“I do,” You nod, feeling sweat drip down the back of your neck and soak into the fabric of your tank top, “Do you think we have time?”

“Anakin can occupy himself with scrap metal and multitools for hours,” Obi-Wan recollects with a smile on his face that isn’t committed to fondness or resignation. You’re sure he’s proud of his padawan’s abilities, but not of the havoc he wreaks with them.

“Hmm, that might be cutting it close,” You pretend to debate it, gnawing at the inside of your cheek, and he lets out a laugh as warm as the runoff heat from his saber with none of the bite of its blade.

“You’d occupy yourself with me for hours?” He teases, but when you nod, it’s earnest.

“I’d occupy myself with you for the rest of my life, Obi-Wan.”

The breath that he draws in when you begin speaking is the last one he draws for a while. Instead he holds it there, letting it burn and sear at his lungs while he wonders if any words he could produce with it would contain even a fraction of the yearning he feels roll over him in a nauseating wave. Very little has ever made him want the life of a civilian - his home is between the opulent walls of the Jedi temple, but any walls he shared with you would be infinitely more grandiose if only for your place within them.

“Had you said the word,” He elects to speak the truth, even if it isn’t even a chip away at the trove of feelings he keeps locked tightly away in his mind for you, “I would have left the Jedi Order.”

Would have.

You know why he won’t now, and you’re not upset with him for the reasons. You understand them, even if you don’t relate to them.

“But Anakin…”

“I know,” You nod against his chest, fingers taking hold of his undershirt’s fabric edge and fastening there, “You made a promise to your master. And to him. And he needs your help. I wouldn’t ask you to leave.”

“Would you have? When we were younger,” He idly strokes down the length of your spine, arm wrapping comfortably around your waist.

“Maybe…” You admit, “Maybe if I’d known your trip to Naboo would bring about such change. Maybe if I’d known I only had a few years left with you as we were. But I didn’t. So I never asked. And I never will.”

He doesn’t react verbally or physically after your confession, but the silence that ensues isn’t an awkward one. Instead, he maintains his hold on you, and you feel a gentle wave of affection flow from him through the Force. Affection, appreciation, love, which you feel so broadly through the Force, but rarely so devoted to you yourself rather than the galaxy in its entirety. You’re no stranger to the feeling, but it’s different channeled privately between two people than it is as a way of life.

“Let us pretend,” Obi-Wan finally musters, his voice thicker than usual, though if you were not so in tune with him you wouldn’t have perceived it, “For the next few fleeting moments, that we are still young. That we don’t have responsibilities other than those to ourselves, and to each other.”

Though your youth may have escaped you, your mind weary with resignation and Obi-Wan’s eyes darkened with the perpetual exhaustion of adulthood, his touch does not feel tired or incapable. It feels strong, firm, and mindful where it slips from your chin to your waist. His other hand sandwiches you between them, and you’re tilting your chin up to kiss him before he gives any indication that he’ll do the same. But he does, his boldness almost reset from the interruption you’d suffered. Like you need to coax him out of his shell again, like he’s worried you’ve somehow changed your mind.

You take the back of his neck in your hand, finding it slick and tacky with sour-smelling sweat, and pull him down so that his lips smash messily to your own. It’s a move he’s not expecting, and a startled groan escapes his lips as proof. You drink it, sucking it down your throat and pulling him towards the bed with the same backwards momentum. He’s nimble even if he’s unprepared, probably to do with his extensive agility training. You’re more than ready to fall back onto your bed when your calves butt against the frame but he lowers you down gently, with ease, drawing back from your kiss despite your fervent protests to watch you look up at him.

“Obi-Wan,” You beg, your voice weary, “Why are you hesitating?”

“I’m not hesitating,” He answers, and you feel it to be truthful, “I’m admiring you, darling. I’m not unsure, I’m more sure than I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Prove it,” You plead, already pulling at the hem of your tank top. You peel its sweat-soaked binding off of your skin, showcasing the equally stained garment beneath it that keeps your chest closer to your neck than your stomach, “Please, Obi-Wan, take me like you want me. Not like you feel bad for having me.”

“I do not feel bad for having you,” He promises, mouth barely parting from yours to utter the words. His lips are pink-tinted, glistening with spit, probably a mixture of his and yours. He pants slightly, cheeks similarly ruddy, “Perhaps later I will. When I stand in front of the Council and tell them we conducted routine maintenance. When I lie, when I guard my memories of you from them. But I’m not occupied with that now, darling. Only with you, I swear it.”

“Oh, well, that’s good to know,” You hum, kissing an inch lower than his mouth, the apex of his chin that’s marred by the scruff of his beard. It’s prickly and rough beneath your lips, and when you draw back they glisten with transferred sweat, “I’m glad you’re not thinking of Master Yoda while dipping a knee between my thighs.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan ducks his head, advances on pause as he plants his forehead against your shoulder, “That’s awful. Really, truly vile.”

You laugh, and despite his disgusted bravado, so does he. His chest shakes against yours and you relish the sound, hand still planted firmly on the back of his neck. You briefly consider breaking out your rusty Yoda impression, ‘kiss me, you must’, but decide against it, instead choosing to press his head closer to your torso, letting his forehead lay flush and sweaty against your shoulder. It puts the scruff of his beard on the curve of your tits, and you feel it burn your skin as he kisses along it lightly. 

His mouth is soft, and his beard is its abrasive opposite. They trail in tandem along the slope of your breasts, first the soft lips and then the burn of the beard, until he’s lit a fiery trail across your skin to the padded edge of your bra. When his lips meet fabric instead of skin he noses beneath it, surely smelling a morning’s worth of sweat accumulated beneath the weight of your chest. You’re self conscious, for only a flash, then he takes a deep drag of air, inhaling until his chest seems fit to burst.

“I’m sorry,” You find yourself humming, regardless of his clear interest, “I wish a shower would help. Even the cold water doesn’t prevent sweating.”

“I don’t want you to shower,” He muses, pushing his face between your breasts to kiss at the skin between them. He mouths gently, tongue sliding over your skin with little form and too much spit that blends well with your sweat, “Sex is not sterile, darling. Soap and water defeat the purpose.”

You’re not sure whether it’s his insistence on the natural state of your body or the way that his knee gently prods against your center, but whatever it is, your fingers itch and you fling them up to cup the underside of your chest.

“Take it off,” You beg, and Obi-Wan shows no hesitation in complying, his hands sliding beneath your back, rough and weathered from work. They’re gentle as they slide over the clasp of your bra, and you push yourself up onto your elbows on the mattress so that he can maneuver the stretchy fabric easier.

“Does it hook or button?” He nudges his nose against yours to ask, and your stomach flops at the question. Both the fact that he doesn’t have enough experience to know, and the way that he feels comfortable enough admitting that to you by asking so earnestly only make you want him more, and you’re barely able to mumble ‘clasp’ before pressing your lips to his own once more.

“Three,” You add later, against his lips, when he unhooks one and still doesn’t have the garment undone, “There’s three.”

He takes your orders with unfailing patience, a trait you’d admired even in your youth. While you’d been more prone to hotheaded outbursts, he’d take you by the arm and speak for the both of you, usually resulting in far less severe of a punishment than you’d have gotten if you’d spoken your mind. Then the two of you would share sneaky, fleeting glances at each other while scrubbing the floors of the refectory, trying not to laugh loud enough for the Knight unwillingly supervising your punishment to hear.

You’re pulled out of your reverie when he finally unhooks the garment and slips it off of your shoulders, meaning you have to draw back from where you’d tucked your face over his shoulder, giving him a view of his work. As your faces pass each other he offers you the same grin he’d worn all those years ago, his pretty eyes alight with the love you feel seeping from his fingertips. You see a glimpse of the boy he was through the man he’s become, and both are equally endearing to you. The first, because you’d grown with him, like ferns tangled together in sticky, clinging tendrils. The second, because he wears his accomplishments on his face, crows feet at the corners of his eyes from laughing at his padawan’s wayward antics, and frown lines for scowling at the same incidences only moments prior. He’d laughed at you in your youth, and frowned just the same at your more uncouth ideas for adventure, and now those expressions are etched into his face, like layers of makeup no longer dissolvable with remover. He’ll wear them forever, and you want to see him display them even in his old age.

He watches the way that your body moves when he peels the sweat-soaked garment away from your chest. He watches your breasts succumb to gravity’s harsh pull, sloping sideways and downwards rather than maintaining their tight compress towards your chin. He watches them sag, watches them fall to their natural state and declares, “You’re beautiful, darling.”

He takes them in his hands, their mass in his palms as he rolls his thumb over the skin of your nipples. They’d usually pebble in the cold but now they’re pulling taut beneath his touch, and when he brushes his thumb over their peak you stifle a gasp.

“Beautiful,” He repeats, and leans down to meet one with his mouth. He gravitates towards the right one first, and the embrace of his hot mouth against your skin tempts your back to arch. His tongue presses flat against your nipple, then drags up its surface, and his lips kiss over the stripe of saliva he’d left behind.

His beard rubs against your skin and it’s not rawing, not yet, but you know it will be the more he mouths at your breast. He’s licking, sucking, pulling, but never biting, teeth merely grazing your flesh rather than indulging in it. His tongue does that instead, flattening out over your raised flesh and dragging hot, wet stripes over the bud of your perked nipple.

“Obi- Obi-Wan,” You gasp, dragging desperate, heaving breaths into your lungs as your hands fly to his lengthened hair. You’d ruffled it many times when it was short and spiked, but now you’re able to get purchase in the strawberry-blonde locks, curling your fingers around the soft, sweat-darkened strands and pulling. 

You don’t pull hard, but it’s unexpected, and you feel the momentary pinch of Obi-Wan’s teeth around your breast. It floods heat to your already-pulsing core more than you’d have thought possible, considering the sweltering temperatures you’ve been in the whole time, but the soft groan that then ripples through your skin from the depths of his throat only makes you more desperate. All of a sudden the long-suffering heat is tepid by comparison, and you yank at the material of his undershirt so hard you nearly rip the fabric.

“Off,” You pant, “Please, take it- get it off, Obi-Wan.”

In a fluid, crouched movement Obi-Wan tears his undershirt off with one hand at its hem, his muscles flexing as he swings the arm up and over his head. He discards the shirt carelessly beneath him and it droops to the floor, no longer covering the bare skin of his chest that you’d admired earlier.

You have half a mind to do to him what he’s been doing to you, to sink your teeth into the flesh of his chest and suckle on his sweat-soaked skin. But he dips his face back to mouth at your tit once more, so you settle for running your hands greedily, desperately over the layer of soft skin that blocks his muscled chest from view. When he was younger, what seems like an eternity but must only be five years, his build was more defined. You’d gotten plenty of eyefuls of his bare, heaving chest during a particularly intense sparring match, or down by one of the large pools that were definitely supposed to be used more for reflection and tranquility rather than the chaos you’d wreaked upon them. But years of planning someone else’s schedule before his own has meant that he’s softened out around the middle, muscles still prominent when you dig your fingers into his skin, just not starkly visible anymore.

Age does that to a person; pushes them harder than ever before to achieve a less-defined result than they’re used to, but you find that you want to grind down onto the thin layer of pudge he’s accumulated just as much as you’d have wanted to drag yourself over his defined abs. The thought of doing both, either, anything makes you dizzy with desire that you express by scratching your sharpened nails down his skin, feeling his muscles shudder beneath your fingers.

“Darling,” He groans, choking on the word like it’s gagged him, “I- I think we ought to- are you ready?”

You marvel at his sincerity, at the idea that he’s not aware of the throbbing, slick mess that your core has become. You’d been ready twenty minutes ago, sprawled out on the floor beneath him, and you’ve only gotten more eager since then. His concern makes you want him more, and you use your grip on his soft hair to tug him upwards to meet your lips in a kiss. 

“I’m ready,” You breathe, laying the words out in a hazy moan over his tongue, “I’m ready, Obi-Wan, please- please take me.”

A groan melts from his mouth like molten butter, dripping over your tongue and down your throat. He pants, lets you suck his tongue into your mouth in a long, eager drag, then mumbles clumsily, “I want you. I want- I want to have you, darling, I want to take you.” His hips roll experimentally against your own, the tight pressure of his clothed cock digging into your panties as he nearly loses the function in the muscles that are holding him up above you.

He lets out another moan as you drag your hips up to meet his premature thrusts, and this time it’s a weaker sound, more strangled and mottled. It’s satisfying, knowing that you’ve reduced the ever-stoic, prized Jedi negotiator Obi-Wan Kenobi to a heaving mass of sweat and desire. His undershorts are rucked up around his meaty thighs, but he hasn’t yanked them off to free his stiff cock yet, so for a moment, all you do is grind against each other. 

The layers of clothing between you, one covering you and two covering him, provide frustrating boundaries but much-needed friction, and the scrape of his rough undershorts dragging against your thin panties makes your fingers curl into his back once more. You suspect that when he wakes tomorrow, your marks will still be there, and you take pride in knowing that he’ll have a very hard time forgetting you.

“Obi-” You really do intend to say his full name, but your breath leaves your lungs too quickly for it, and you revert back to the nickname he’d loathed as a teenager. Too juvenile, he’d protested greatly at the clipped diminutive, but he leans into it now. He licks the word right off of your tongue, his own plunging past your lips and dragging over your teeth in a messy, imprecise fashion. You get the sense that this is not about sex to him, it’s not about mechanics or equations or the perfect formula. It’s about you, and him, and you and him together. He doesn’t kiss you like a storybook prince because he kisses you like Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan wants to lick the spit out of your mouth and suck on your tongue. Obi-Wan wants to feel, not think, for once in his life, so he does.

“Obi-” You falter again, hands traveling from his muscled back to his hips. Your fingers dip beneath the waistband of his undershorts, then his briefs where they lay against the same stretch of skin, “Off. Off, please- Obi-Wan, off, take ‘em- off.”

He grunts his approval into your mouth, obscene squelching sounds coming from where his spit pools between your teeth and your tongue. He reaches down with a blind, clumsy hand to tug at his waistband, but when it doesn’t provide immediate results, he finds himself getting frustrated. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, not the frustration itself but his inability to control it, and he feels his brow crease in irritation as he reluctantly parts from your mouth to focus on the task at hand. All he needs is a little extra leverage to slide his shorts off of his waist, briefs bunched together, and as soon as they’re out of his way he’s reaching for your own underwear.

You crane your neck downwards to watch him, and the glimmering mess of saliva in your mouth practically doubles in volume at the sight of his red-tipped, rock-hard cock. It’s curved slightly up towards his stomach in its desperation, and there’s precum oozing from its tip, foaming and all too appealing. You want to suck him off again, to really choke yourself on it this time and never draw back for air, but there’s no time when he tugs swiftly at the elastic band of your panties, tearing them easily away from you. They drag beneath your thighs but he merely pulls harder, until they spring free and bunch up around your knees.

“Up,” Obi-Wan taps at your left thigh, and you struggle to bend your knees amidst their relentless trembling. He helps you, strength having stuck with him even when composure has abandoned its post. You get your left thigh up first, exposing your glistening cunt, smeared sticky with your own slick. His breath catches, you feel it stutter to a stop in his chest that you’re groping, and his eyes glimmer in the warm lights above you.

“Darling,” He breathes, taken by the mess of your drooling cunt. He reaches out, touches it carefully, with only the pad of his pointer finger. He ghosts it along the side of your slit, and even the infuriatingly chaste touch is ultra erotic. At the way you writhe beneath a single one of his fingers he brings his thumb up to stroke down your slit, catching wetness on his thumb that his mouth opens to accommodate.

He sucks your release clean off of his thumb, you’re almost certain he scrapes his teeth along his skin just to get it all. 

He leans into his own thumb, chases after it like he’s not the one taking it out of his mouth. He hesitates no further in clamoring backwards on the mattress until his knees hit the floor below, and he thanks the Force that the beds you were given are low enough for him to lean over the edge and bury his face in your cunt.

“Obi-Wan, no!” You plead, fingers tangling in his pretty blonde hair, “You’ll- you said- don’t cum yet, please, I- I want it in me!”

“I will cum in you,” He pledges, voice deep and determined as he nudges his nose against your wet cunt, “My darling, I’ll do whatever you ask. But I need you here, now. Please,” He breathes, his exhale shaky and warm as it heats your cunt, “Please, Darling, I want you here.”

“Have me,” You whimper, squirming your hips from side to side to propel yourself down the mattress. Your cunt bumps messily against his face that he doesn’t bother moving, and you buck your hips once, twice against his nose, riding his face, “Please, have me, Obi-Wan, you can have me.”

Your consent is all it takes. His mouth is open and his tongue is out the second you say the word, licking wet, tantalizingly slow stripes up your slit. He doesn’t breach it, doesn’t delve his tongue into your entrance, he laps at the slick smeared on the outside, as well as the wetness that has thoroughly soaked your thighs. Your skin is tacky with it even when he’s replaced it with his spit, and your cunt throbs at the meticulous approach he’s taken to appreciating every drop you give him. 

It’s too meticulous. 

After another slow, careful, nearly chaste lave of his tongue over the crease between your thigh and your cunt, probably just as soaked with sweat as it is with slick, you retighten your now-loose grip in his hair. You’d let go of the strands when he’d given you what you wanted, but now you want more, and you lead him straight to your core where he’d been lapping at your thighs instead.

“Here,” You beg, pulling his face against your drooling cunt until you’re certain he’s unable to breathe. You feel his nose breach your slit, nudged into your cunt by your insistent tugging on his hair.

“I need you here, inside, please.” You beg, pussy aching with abandon. His slow, careful ministrations had driven you mad, and now you are teetering on the edge of insanity as you nearly howl, “Please!”

His response is white-hot and wet. His tongue prods gently from between his lips as his jaw widens, and he watches your reaction as he fills your cunt with his slick tongue. A gush of your own wetness greets him, and as insistent as he is at meeting your eyes, his own flutter shut at the taste.

“Force,” He breathes, and the exclamation is uncommon from him. The muffled, garbled word sends vibrations straight into your cunt, and after the initial shock of his tongue inside of you, you feel his beard.

It scrapes abrasively against the sensitive, licked-over skin of your inner thighs, and prickles deliciously at the base of your leaking cunt. You feel sharp hairs prod at the curve of your ass, and his mouth moves fluidly, tongue wriggling with surprising prowess through the mess of slick you’ve accumulated in your cunt. It slides wetly along your inner walls that have made way for his tongue, and that will stretch eagerly to accommodate his cock. 

His cock, oh, you’d forgotten the thick weight on your tongue, and your jaw aches with the ghost of it. Your cunt aches, too, and when his nose softly bumps your clit you gasp as your hips jolt upwards. He catches your thighs with Jedi agility, his muscles not straining at all to hold you to the mattress. The casual, easy display of strength makes your thighs quiver, and something inside of you tighten like a knot.

He licks you out like he’s drinking ambrosia, the glistening substance smeared over his face and starting up the bridge of his nose. The noises that he makes are hungry and wild as he licks more, sucks more, takes more. He’d moderated himself at first, lapped the sticky spillings of your wet cunt like he was rationing a meal. Now he feasts, tongue losing focus from inside your pussy and rapidly licking over your clit. His lips suction on and his beard burns tantalizingly at your sloppy cunt. You feel stimulation everywhere, the knot below your belly tightening ever-stronger until you feel the beginnings of a fray. It’s a step you take, an incline that you scramble up, and each pedestal you achieve gives way to a higher one. You let yourself climb, climb, climb, against every pulse of his suctioned lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves, and you breach the clouds as Obi-Wan broadens his sucking mouth to half-latch to your clit, his tongue delving back into your drooling cunt. You leap for the final pedestal and a surge of pleasure hits you, soaking wet like a wave that you ride back down to the surface. 

You tremble, you whimper, you love. Your thighs shake, the muscles in your stomach stuttering as your hips jolt and jerk. Your mouth produces such feeble sounds, whines and moans and ‘Oh, please, yes’s, and ‘Obi-Wan- kriff!’s. Your fingers in his hair latch tight but cling gentle, holding him to you as you lose control of yourself in the Force. All of the love, all of the passion, all of the attachment, all of the terrible-horrible-no-good-very-bad-un-Jedi-like things that you’re not supposed to feel surge through the Force and hit Obi-Wan like Coruscant’s train, knocking the wind out of him, though he never stops sucking at you.

Obi-Wan licks you through your orgasm, tongue pressing tight and hot and wet to the quiver of your cunt, letting it spasm against his mouth. He sucks up every last drop of slick that you’ll give him, greedily mouthing at your cunt long after it’s begun stinging from oversensitivity. You want his mouth off, and his cock in, although that first part sounds like a heinous thing to wish for. His tongue is perfection, slippery and knowing you well enough to hit just the right spots even though it’s never had you before. You only push his mouth away to beg for his cock, but you’re tempted to let him white out your vision and lick at you until he passes out.

“Obi-!” You gasp, pushing instead of pulling at his golden hair, “Obi-Wan, no- no more! Here, up- here, please, and I want you inside of me.”

He lets you unlatch him from your pulsing cunt, rife with the sting of stimulation. You need only a matter of seconds to come down from your high, but they’re seconds you can’t afford to spend on Obi-Wan’s tongue, or the clock won’t ever start. He licks at a smear of slick over your thigh that he’d missed earlier, and his brain seems to register your begging.

“Alright, darling,” He pants, out of breath from the way he’d spent it all in your cunt. His voice is ragged, drowned in slick and thick with want.

He clamors back onto the mattress, all humbly-forged muscles and greed. He hovers over you, and dips down to claim your mouth the way he had your cunt: with broad, sweeping swipes of his tongue. He licks your slick across your tongue, letting you taste yourself on him.

“I’m here,” He soothes, his voice a notch deeper than usual and his words malformed due to the open ring of his mouth. He licks against your tongue once more, sloppy and hot, as his hips grind down against your thigh. He knows you need time but he doesn’t have long, and he grinds against your hip until you’re ready. You feel his stiff cock digging into your flesh, and it sends pulses of energy to your recovering cunt that make it beg to be filled. He’s not composed the way that he normally is, but he’s managing to hold himself together through grunts and groans into your mouth. If you don’t act fast, he’s going to splatter your stomach with cum, which wouldn’t be distasteful by any means, but you’d rather him paint your insides with it.

“You are intoxicating,” Obi-Wan proclaims, speaking directly into your mouth, an addict that can’t wean off of his drug, “I don’t know how I am supposed to pretend like this never happened.”

“Don’t,” You beg breathlessly, “Don’t forget me. Keep quiet around others, and- and when you are alone,” You reach down to take his cock into your hands, heavy and thick and waiting, “When you lay in bed at night, when you touch yourself-” He lets out something teetering on the edge of a whimper as you stroke your hand along his flushed length, an angry red coloring the tip that exposes how much self-control he’s composing, “-touch yourself, and- and think of me. Think of my hands, of my mouth, of my cunt. Think of me, Obi-Wan.”

“I will,” He vows, his voice holding like a frayed rope with one thread remaining, strained and pulling and clinging together, “Please let me have you. Please,” He braces his forehead against yours, his cock throbbing in your palm, “Please darling, let me in. I want to be inside of you, I want to have you, please.”

You’ve never seen him babble before. Not when he’d been seven years old, bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked, caught with a stray tooka cat in his robes halfway back to the creche. Not when he’d been fifteen and a warrior, his side split open in a gory mess of blood and flesh and lymph and bone. Not at his old master’s funeral, the light from the pyre’s flames dancing upon his stoic features. Obi-Wan Kenobi is a master at composure, but he is breathless now, sacrificing it to the dewy-warm crease where your neck meets your shoulder, and sucking up your sweat-salty scent in return.

You place your free hand on his back, sticky and flushed beneath your touch, and use it to help guide him into you. Your other hand, still wrapped around his cock, lines it up with your entrance and he needs little coaxing from there. He pushes himself into you slowly, courteously, but loses himself to some deep, primal urge that he’s buried beneath layers of meditation and balance. 

He comes undone.

His muscles surge and his hips buck in what begins as a steady pace, but transforms into a wild rhythm that pins you against the mattress. He lets out a groan into the sweaty juncture of your neck, something that sounds like it could be from a beast and not a man. You feel the scrape of his beard against the seldom-touched skin there and you’re sure it’s growing raw, but you couldn’t care less. He’s not holding your hips up - his hands are plastered to your side and holding you there with a force carefully and pointedly short of bruising - but you angle your pelvis up anyway, allowing him to hit that much deeper inside of you. The tip of his cock never hurts where it connects briefly each thrust with your cervix, but you feel it intimately, every vein and ridge and curve that his body has to offer. 

You’re grateful for the sound-proof walls of the military compound because you realize after a moment that you’re making noise just the same as he is. It’s softer, quieter, but it’s there, the underlying harmony to his leading grunts and groans. 

All the while he is soft and gentle, because what he wants is not sex, it is you. Perhaps if he were a lesser man, he’d squeeze you, or bend you, or break you, all to take you the way he wants. But it is the soul inside of you that he’s after, and he takes great care with the vessel it’s enclosed in. He holds you, but he does not squeeze you. He kisses you, but he does not bite you. He moves with you, not against you. Your hips surge upwards to meet the thrusts of his cock and he latches his mouth to yours desperately, pleadingly. Your breathing is short and staccato through your nose, fanning against his top lip as he mashes it messily to your own, and you’re much easier to bring to a climax the second time around, sensitivity still roiling in your blood from your previous orgasm.

“Obi-Wan,” You beg, the words spilling languidly into his mouth, as you move in tandem, in, out, in, out, forwards, backwards, everything, nothing.

“Obi- I’m gonna- ooh, I’m gonna cum,” You cry, overwhelmed by the consistent drag of his cock against the walls of your soaked cunt. You’re slick again, gushing enough to replenish however much Obi-Wan had licked out of you. It squelches as he drives his dick into your pussy, foamy from the repetitive motions that are only creating it at faster intervals.

“Please- please do,” He moans, his dick twitching inside of you, “Force, I- ah, there’s nothing I want more than to feel that, darling. Please- please cum, please-”

“Kiss me,” You plead, even though he’s never stopped, if the way that his mouth moves against yours can still be considered a kiss. It’s far from any conventional peck on the lips, mostly tongue and drool that seeps down the side of your mouth and into your neck, mixing with the sweat already lingering there from your workout.

He tries kissing you more neatly, his lips tightening and suctioning around your own, but the closer you both get to your impending orgasms, the sloppier his thrusts are, and the more slack his mouth goes, smothering your own instead of truly kissing it while his tongue continues its dogged pursuit of your own. It’s no matter; his spit leaks uncontrollably into your mouth and you relish the taste. You don’t need perfection, you need him.

You can’t help your wandering hand from snaking down to his waist, curving just below his cock to cradle his balls against your palm. They’re heavy and warm as you take them into your hand, and doing so elicits a gasp from the man chasing his release inside of you, his hips stuttering in their pursuit of the wet warmth of your cunt. You squeeze them, not harshly, just a gentle compression, and Obi-Wan melts. A whimper escapes his lips, still slack and pressed to your own, and though his thrusts momentarily slow, they resume at double the pace. He’s rapidly bucking his hips now, barely containing himself enough to lift one hand off of your side and bring it to your chest. He fits his palm over one of your breasts, your stiff, sensitive nipple caving against his palm. You gasp at the prickling sensation and your fingernails momentarily dig into his back, but when his dick twitches once more inside of you, desperate, fit-to-burst, you drag them down his back in searing red lines.

If you hadn’t been able to feel Obi-Wan cum inside of you, you’d have known it was happening from the cry he releases alone. It’s abrupt, like his orgasm catches him off-guard even though he’s been pursuing it. But you can feel it, you can feel his warm cum ooze out of the head of his cock, momentarily stationary as it’s snug against your cervix. You feel it gush from his dick, filling any and all available space in your pulsating cunt before flooding outwards, dripping down your ass and thighs in an obscene display that soaks right into your bedsheets. Obi-Wan rides out his climax at a pace rapid enough to coax your second one out of you, and you welcome the now-familiar sensation of cumming around Obi-Wan. It’s mind-numbing, your ears ring for a faint moment, and your cunt rapidly clenches and unclenches around his cock that’s all too happy to continue occupying the space.

He grunts, moans, and groans as his sloppy thrusts finally slow, and your cunt appreciates the reduced pace. You’re well and truly spent, difficult to achieve for someone who’d gone through endurance training since childhood, and you’re not surprised that Obi-Wan, too, needs a break. He lowers himself to your chest with a slow, shaky exhale, eyes closed and face glistening with sweat just as your own does. 

His beard grates roughly against your skin, shifted with every ragged breath that he draws in. His hair spills over the breast that his mouth isn’t nestled beside, and you stare down at his face, marveling how beautiful his barely-fluttering lashes and heaving chest are.

Before he opens his eyes he angles it towards you, so that the first thing he sees is your flushed, sweaty, open-mouthed expression. He’s in the perfect position to kiss the side of your breast, and it tingles with the phantom sensation of his palm flat against your perked nipple barely minutes before. His beard scrapes your skin like it has since you first kissed him, and you wonder if you’ll ever be able to live happily without the scratch of it against your cheeks, or thighs, for that matter. The skin between your legs is still raw, stinging with the friction of Obi-Wan’s coarse hair against your flesh..

“You look beautiful, darling,” He hums, his voice grated raw from fatigue. His breath fans hot over your chest, but he pushes himself up on his tired biceps to hover over you. His weight against you had been comforting, but his gaze is even more so, and you let him loom over you.

His chest, peppered with auburn curls so fine they glisten in the poor lighting of your quarters, rises and falls deeply in front of you. You have half a mind to bury your face in it; you might if his face wasn’t impossibly more captivating.

His eyes search yours, for what you’re not sure, but you realize that his breathing gets more shallow until his chest stills completely. He only releases his breath when you reach up to thumb gently at his sternum, loosening his lungs again.

“Do you regret it?”

You suppose you didn’t have to ruin the moment so harshly, but you want to know the truth. You want to know if this was worth it, or if you’re going on the list of regrets that Obi-Wan pours over obsessively.

He takes a moment to answer, but you suspect it’s because he’s been caught off guard by your question. He shakes his head, dipping his face down to kiss the swell of your cheek.

“No, I don’t.” He mumbles against the dewy skin of your face, hiding his words there in self-preservation. You kiss the fleeting scruff of his beard as he pulls away, and your eyes find the blue of his instantly.

“You needed convincing at first,” You recall warily, something sinking in your chest now that you’re not puppettered by lust, “Are you certain it was the right thing to do?”

“Not at all,” He admits, “In fact, I think it was wrong of me. But I’ve done it anyways, and I am happy for that.”

“Why wrong?” You ghost your knuckles against his cheek, and he leans into it like he used to do when you’d clean scrapes and cuts he’d acquire while sparring. 

“I am more attached to you now than ever,” He offers simply, but it doesn’t seem like it pains him to confess. He seems lighter now, less embroiled in his own anxiety.  “And I’m not certain I can keep my personal feelings- well, personal. I don’t know that I could think rationally about you. That’s not desirable to the Order, or to the war effort.”

You bite your tongue, teeth digging softly into its muscle.

“All the same,” He continues, “Jedi are not without attachments. Younglings form friendships in the creche, and their minders love them. Padawans love their Masters, and vice versa. Masters engage in relations,” He acknowledges, then his brows tick up and he considers, “Ki Adi Mundi has four wives. Perhaps I’m not the most blasphemous Jedi they’ve ever seen.”

A laugh comes tumbling from your lips before you can stop it, and Obi-Wan’s face softens into a grin of his own.

“Five,” You correct him, “He has five wives.”

“Force, he’s a heretic,” Obi-Wan exclaims, but it’s all for show; he holds no ill opinions of the council member.

“I’m happy for his wives,” You hum, the sound just short of a giggle, “But I prefer your beard over his.”

“Oh, but he’s got a better mustache than me,” Obi-Wan settles on his side facing you, a smile etched permanently into his features as he plays along with the banter you’ve started. He relishes its lighthearted nature compared to the hesitance of moments prior, “Maybe I should grow it out and curl it like his.”

Before you can offer him another round in exchange for a promise to never shape his facial hair around Master Mundi’s, the walls of your compound give a creaky grinding sound, then a rumble, and air whooshes through the vents you’ve come to loathe for their uselessness in the recent past.

“He did it!” You gawk, sitting up excitedly, nearly forgetting that you’re topless, “Oh Force, Anakin’s a wizard! He really is, he’s a mechanical wizard, and I’m going to buy him a speeder for this.”

“Do not,” Obi-Wan groans, sitting up beside you and tugging you easily to fit your back against his chest, “The last thing that boy needs is the ability to go faster.”

“He did it,” You sigh happily, leaning back and pressing your lips to Obi-Wan’s. He reciprocates easily now, unlike before when he’d run himself ragged with doubts.

“That means we’ll be off soon,” Obi-Wan reminds you gently, and you deflate slightly in his hold, “But I don’t think comming each other should be any issue.”

“Every night?” You suggest, kissing at the prickly cleft of his chin.

“That’s- ambitious.” He chuckles, but it’s not meant to tease, “Every night, darling.”

“You can send me dirty videos,” You gush, scrambling to free yourself from Obi-Wan’s hold when he tries locking his fingers onto your sides, nipping sharply at your shoulder.

“I will not!” He insists, voice firm but chest trembling with barely-withheld laughter, “Force, if I pressed the wrong button…”

“Perhaps Master Mundi could share it with one of his wives,” You laugh, scrambling back into your underclothes and heading for the fresher to clean yourself up, “Hurry up and get dressed, Obi-Wan, one of my troopers is probably on their way to tell us the good news!”

Your suspicions are confirmed only moments later, thankfully, after you’ve both had time to right your appearances. You look flushed and sweaty, if anything, but the cool air hasn’t managed to flood the entire compound yet, and you’ve been exercising, so it’s excusable. No one but you two needs to know that exercising didn’t mean sparring for longer than ten minutes.

“Anakin, you’re fantastic,” You call, rushing through the empty hangar where he’s standing near the ramp of the ship, “You’ve saved us all. I’m fairly certain my troops would have resorted to fratricide if we’d had to melt here for any longer.”

The padawan gives you a valiant effort at a polite chuckle, and you press on, “For the record, I told your master I’d get you a speeder for helping us today, but he said no.”

“Y/N,” Obi-Wan starts, exasperated, but catches himself on the use of your first name. Perhaps it feels different now, coming out of his mouth much more measured than it had only twenty minutes prior. He doesn’t speak further.

Anakin’s eyes briefly glint at the fantasy of his own speeder, but he controls himself quickly. He’s a credit to his master, who manages to look convincingly like he hadn’t just broken a very long streak of celibacy. Still, you appreciate that war hasn’t managed to suck the most basic of excitements out of the child, and you reach up to pat his cheek in a gesture distinctly un-Jedi like. 

“Take care of yourself, and don’t let Obi-Wan bore you with a million lectures on economics, or politics, or the two combined.”

Anakin nods, but bites his lower lip to refrain from smirking, saving himself a lecture on sass later on. You hear Obi-Wan exhale huffily behind you, and you turn your attention to him when Anakin retreats onto the ship.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t add to my apprentice’s willfulness,” He grouses, but the corner of his mouth twitches upwards in fondness for you both, “He’s got enough of that on his own.”

“Take care of yourself,” You ignore his teasing, your voice tender and sweet, slightly more than it had been for Anakin, “I know they don’t send you out much, because he’s only fourteen, but- but please take care of yourself, Obi-Wan.”

Perhaps if Anakin hadn’t been lingering on the ramp of the ship, perhaps if there weren’t five clone troopers stationed in the hangar, perhaps if you were the only two people in the world, like it had felt less than an hour ago, Obi-Wan would have kissed you. But he doesn’t, all he does is nod, 

“We will,” He vows, and you nod, satisfied.

“I mean it,” You continue, more threatening than your earlier sentiment, “Comm me.” And you think back to the request you’d made earlier, breathlessly, the words fanning out against his sweaty skin, “And… think of me.”

You know he’s recalling the same moment in time when his cheeks tinge pink.

“I will,” He promises, singular this time, confirming your suspicions that his mind is flashing with visions of your flushed skin beneath his hands, “And please take care of yourself, too, General.”

Something hard and aching tugs at the back of your throat at the honorific, such a far cry from the intimacy you’d shared. But now you are General Y/L/N, and he is Master Kenobi, and that is the way things must be in the presence of others.

“Master Kenobi,” You bow, bending at the waist and noting the soft tug of soreness there.

“General Y/L/N,” Obi-Wan mimics your gesture, hands folded neatly into the sleeves of his robes.

He turns. He pivots on his feet and strides up the ramp of the ship they’d taken, Anakin waiting until he’s passed through the doorway to follow behind him. The door hisses shut, concealing them both, and the mechanical whiz-kid has the engines powered up in no time. You watch their ship take flight and navigate the narrow entrance to your hangar with ease, waiting until they’ve passed each temperature-isolating layer of defense that enshroud your compound and disappear into the planet’s heat-hazy atmosphere to turn away.

“General,” One of your troopers lingers behind you, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” You put on a convincing show, smiling serenely, “I’d just forgotten how much of a challenge sparring with Master Kenobi is. I’m fatigued; I think I’ll retire to my quarters for some rest.”

“General,” He nods, stating your title like a vow of loyalty, standing at attention as the hangar doors finally shut you in. 

You walk the familiar path to your sparse quarters absentmindedly, feeling that same twinge of achiness each time you take a step. Only once your door hisses shut do you release the prim tension in your shoulders, slumping and slouching like you’d just escaped the throes of battle. 

There is a shirt on your bed.

It’s white, though it’s been worn thoroughly, so the color is muddied ever so slightly with the tan tinge of sweat. It’s rumpled, from a hasty removal. It’s laid over your poor excuse for a blanket, cream-colored against the starkly contrasting black fabric. It’s impossible to miss, which means it had to have been placed there deliberately; it wasn’t forgotten.

It’s Obi-Wan’s.

You overcome your momentary stun and pad towards the bed, reaching for the shirt with a hesitant hand. You take it, feel it ever-so-slightly damp with lingering perspiration, and your stomach flips.

It’s Obi-Wan’s; it’s yours.

The shirt winds up snug around your pillow, tucked beneath the Republic-issue linen. It’s invisible to the outside eye, but when your nose is pressed gauchely into the pillowcase you can smell Obi-Wan through it, a mix of natural and artificial scents.

The musk of cologne and the acrid smell of sweat. Composure and lust. What is right and what is wrong.

You and Obi-Wan.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

#obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi smut #obi-wan kenobi fanfiction #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi-wan kenobi fluff #obi-wan kenobi oneshot #obi-wan kenobi one-shot #obi-wan kenobi one shot #obi-wan kenobi headcanon #obi-wan kenobi headcanons #obi-wan kenobi hcs #obi-wan kenobi hc #obi-wan kenobi fan fiction #obi-wan kenobi fanfic #obi-wan kenobi blurb #obi-wan kenobi drabble #obi-wan kenobi dialogue #obi-wan kenobi x y/n #obi-wan kenobi x you

[just-dreaming-marvel]

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.

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[cinnamon-galaxies]

A Padawan's Confession

Pairings: Obi-Wan x padawan!reader

Warnings/Tags: drama, hurt/comfort, age difference, no (further) romantic interaction

Summary: G/N reader! You and your master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, rest by a campfire overnight during a mission. As your thoughts get heavier each second he senses your trouble and you take the opportunity to announce your decision to leave the order. Because feelings far beyond the boundaries of the Jedi slowly turn you insane as your heart craves for the man who's both the furthest and closest to you....

Words: 1.7k

A/n: This short story is inspired by a one shot I've written many years ago. I hope you like it! Also English isn't my first language so there might be spelling and grammar mistakes in this story!

~~~~~~

The quiet camp fire marked tonight's resting place from your stressful mission. You and your master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, sat on broken trunks, your cloaks pulled around you tightly to keep the warmth of the fire around your bodies. But as quiet as the night seemed to be, your mind was the exact opposite. Hundreds of thoughts raced around and kept your pulse high and your tension at a maximum. It was at the time you eventually should be honest with your master and talk to him about your decision to leave the order. Your thoughts have been resolving around this topic for months now and with each day passing you felt more certain to pervade your decision, as the pressure and pain got worse and became almost unbearable.

While you tried to think about the best way to tell him, your master sensed your inner tension. "You seem troubled, Y/N," he observed. "Is there something you'd like to talk about?"

You hesitated for a brief moment before you nodded. "Yes. Kinda..."

"What's wrong?" Obi-Wan asked, his neutral facial expression slowly turning into concern. He didn't want you to feel bad. He in fact despised it when you were sad or troubled and that is why he always wanted to be there for you, support you and help you through bad times. Of course it was also his responsibility to care for you but through all the year's you've been his Padawan you grew to be so much more for him, something similar to the daughter he never had. And that is a fact he never actually said out loud but it was a silent truth between the both of you.

You let out a deep sigh but it didn't release any of the heavy pressure pushing down on you. To leave the order was a life-changing decision that couldn't be undone. It could be a big mistake—or the best decision you'll ever make. But after all it hurt a lot to even think about saying goodbye.

"I-" you started but a heavy lump in your throat interrupted you. "I can no longer do this." You automatically lowered your voice and turned your face towards the darkness behind the trees to avoid his glance. You felt tears form in your eyes, so you closed your lids and held your breath. There was almost nothing else as awkward as crying in front of your master, a Jedi in accordance with the code. 'There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force,' you quoted in your mind realizing you've broken at least half of the five key principles. What a shame it would be if you'd shown your master how much you were guided by your emotions. "I'm sorry master," you said.

Obi-Wan frowned in both confusion and concern. "You're sorry? For what? What is it you can no longer do?" he asked with a calm voice. He was trying hard to hide how much he worried about you right now.

"All of this," you replied. "I made the decision to leave the Jedi order." Out of a sudden, relief flooded your veins as the heavy weight of those words left your soul with every syllable spoken.

Obi-Wan paused. He didn't even realize he forgot to beathe while the shock of your announcement washed over him. "Y/N," he finally managed to press through his lips. "Leaving the Jedi order is a significant decision."

"I know," you replied.

"May I ask why you've come to this conclusion?"

You hesitated. It made you uncomfortable to talk about the reasons. Then again, informing him was the least you could do. You still didn't manage to make eye contact. "I've broken the Jedi principles. Or, to put it better, it gets harder for me to follow them everyday. I can't no longer distract myself from my emotions and act as if I don't feel any affection. My mind starts to think in ways the doctrines of the Jedi dismiss and I'm afraid I'll and up in demise." The tears lingering in your eyes got more but you still managed to hold them back. It was obvious that your master could feel the bunch of emotions cracking through all of these walls you've built up since the beginning of your training. But there was one you could still hide. One particular emotion you hid so well from the outside and the force sensing abilities of the Jedi that you were sure, no matter how many your master could sense, that one particular emotion wasn't one of them.

"Affection, you say?" Your master responded and you nodded. "May I ask what kind of affection troubles you?"

You wish you could say that it was only a deep friendship that guided you to paths different from the force. But it was more. Something way deeper. "It's love," you said.

"Love," Obi-Wan repeated. As he turned his gaze towards the camp fire, you dared to look at him. He was obviously lost in thought. Maybe he was searching for the best response or he was thinking about you, wondering who the person might be that made you struggle this hard you considered to leave the order. "The Force guides us all on unique journeys," he then said. "And there are many that aren't consistent with the Jedi ways. You're correct, affection—especially love—is a bond that leads you on a path in-between dark and light. What could be a strength might at the same time become a weakness. Where love blooms, passion lingers. And where passion lingers, darkness awaits."

You listened to his words. It was the same doctrine you had internalized for years but the way your master chose his words made it sound different this time. You suspected that he hasn't finished his monologue yet so you stood quite, examining his side profile while his attention seemed to be caught be the dancing flames. He in fact hasn't finished yet. "As you should know I won't judge you. It's not your decision if you fall for someone. It's your decision how you deal with it. And if your feelings affect you in a way they could harm you and the Jedi order this might no longer be your journey. So don't be ashamed."

You took a deep breath and turned your gaze to the fire as well. "Thank you," you said and a tear finally released itself from your strong hold and rolled down your cheek.

"For what?"

"For your understanding."

Your master chuckled. "Let me tell you a secret. When I was your age I've been in love as well. Twice. So I know your struggle. But it was my decision to lock those feelings up and stay in the order."

You blinked in shock. Your master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, has once been in love? Well, that was something you would've never expected. But at least he's managed to keep his mind straight. And with that thought you replied: "I don't think I'll ever be able to do the same. It's so hard and the person I'm into is almost always around me." You hesitated, afraid you've said too much. But in the end, it wouldn't matter what you've said the day you announced your decision.

Obi-Wan turned his head to look at you. His blue eyes shimmered in the light of the dancing fire that made his gaze seem even warmer than it already was. "Is it your friend Anakin?" he asked in curiosity and you took a deep breath before you shook your head.

"No. It's not Anakin." And with the words spoken out loud you've finally let the last of all the walls you've built to hide your emotions break into pieces. A warm wave of the force rushed over both of you and the campfire, making it dance uncontrollably fast for a brief moment. You noticed Obi-Wan shift but couldn't certainly say what exactly changed as you allowed him to find out about your feelings for him. Your cheeks immediately turned red and you felt shame rush over you. The emotion behind that wall was the exact reason you wanted to leave. Love for your master, the one who would—and should—never return your feelings. The one who was supposed to care for you, to train you, and who played great value on the Jedi principles. He wasn't even just your master, he was a Jedi master and a member of the high council as well.

Obi-Wan didn't turn his gaze away, his blue eyes now filled with a harsh realization.

Another tear ran down your cheek but you tried your hardest to not look away and keep the eye contact. In the perfect world of your fantasy Obi-Wan would've leaned towards you and captured your lips in a passionate kiss. But this wasn't your fantasy, it was reality. And in reality all he did was sit right in front of you, obviously shocked and speechless—but at the same time comprehending many details of your (probably strange) behaviour in the past. Your stares, the way you laughed particularly often in his presence, you distancing yourself from him after you made a mistake... The ways you've tried to impress him when fighting in battles....

"I'm sorry, Y/N", Obi-Wan finally said with a low voice. He was obviously still speechless.

"I know," you replied with a cracking voice. You still watched his face, his expression, the small wrinkles on his skin that were a subtile proof for the big age difference between you and him. You studied his blue eyes that still kept all of the warmth he's met you with during this conversation. His beard, the neatly cut hair... You tried m to memorize his face as best as you could because soon you'd never see it again....

You shook your head. "No. Please don't say that as if it was your fault. It's mine. And I'm gonna leave as soon as our mission's over."

"It is your decision how you want to spend your life. But I can't offer you what you want."

"I know," you replied with a cracking voice. You still watched his face, his expression, the small wrinkles on his skin that were a subtile proof for the big age difference between you and him. You studied his blue eyes that still kept all of the warmth he's met you with during this conversation. His beard, the neatly cut hair... Everything inside of you screamed for his affection, his love, his heart. You wanted him to touch you, pull you to his chest and kiss you gently. Obi-Wan was everything you've ever wanted and the one thing you'll never get. So you tried to memorize his face as best as you could because soon you'll never see it again....

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[phoeebsbuffay]

Imagine you are about to become a Master Jedi under the guidance of Master Kenobi… 😏

Warnings: smut, drama, sort of light reading.

Warnings 2: fluffy endings, alternative universe where the Siths have been defeated and Anakin hasn’t turned to the dark side.

Warnings 3: (loosely) based on “505” by Arctic Monkeys.

Recommendations: “505”, “Do I Wanna Know”, “Four Out Of Five”, “R U Mine” by Arctic Monkeys.

No minors.

***

Once Anakin Skywalker has been assigned a Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, though never truly stopping monitoring his activities, decides to carry on with other tasks to him delegated. Until Y/N appears. You are about to get your trials, but the Master who was once responsible for you was killed in battle. You are no more than twenty and five years of age—an average age to be elevated to the title of Master Jedi—but is there really a necessity to train you, prepare you for your trials?

Because he is doing this as a favor to Master Windu, who used to be very close to Master H/N, Obi-Wan sees no other choice but taking you under his wing.

Yet, he is somewhat disconcerted when his eyes spot you for the very first time—a sort of sentiment that strikes him that hasn’t effected him since when he first laid his eyes on Duchess Satine so many years ago—-; you are blessed with some sort of ethereal beauty: his blue eyes cannot divert from y/c skin, so soft and inviting to a gentle touch; your y/c hair which drops in long waves of curls that drop by your waist—impressive, Obi-Wan thought—, your curves that are so… He swallows hard, trying not to stare at how the bandage around your breasts seems to reinforce them or at your well shaped body.

Good grief, you are a well made woman. Obi-Wan tries to push away these unwelcoming thoughts, and it’s not very helpful that when you turn your face at him, sensing his presence, you greet him warmly. The spark in those y/c eyes and the smile that is pushed wide open by those rosy lips are enough to knock this man down.

Perhaps I’ve been far too lonely for my taste. Perhaps I am projecting my aching heart, having missed Satine for a while, towards Y/N. She does not deserve that. Besides, may I remind myself that Jedis must not form any sort of attachment?

He clears his throat when approaching you. You watch him with interest. Unbeknownst to Obi-Wan, the same impressions that crossed his mind make home in your mind. You judge him to be the handsomest man your eyes laid on: in fact, you always believed to have gone insufferable towards your youth and young adult phase where most of your colleagues developed sentiments for someone or went to some houses of pleasure to put out the needs of the flesh.

Ironically, it is a Jedi Master who weakens your knees and messes with your reason. You thought nothing would tempt you to break this rule often professed as difficult by many of your colleagues. Although most would pass through the challenges of the heart rather easily, they still suffered the process of having feelings and broken hearts.

You thought invincible to it, indeed. You even laughed away when a friend of yours told you the following:

“One day, you will be tempted, Y/N. Laugh as you wish now, but the worst temptation is not of the kind that slaves the flesh, but the soul. And when this day comes, you’ll pay with your laughters.”

Perhaps your friend H/N is right. But your pride refuses to admit it. Yet, your eyes linger at his red hair, his beard, his lips… His well build muscles underneath the leather brown-ish robes somehow give you an unknown friction never before felt in your legs. However, what does knock you down is how his blue eyes find the path to reach your soul.

Fuck.

“Miss Y/N”, he greets you warmly. “I am Obi-Wan Kenobi. I trust Master Windu told you about our encounter? My condolences for the loss of Master H/N. Must be difficult for you, specially concerning your current situation.”

You compose yourself, praying the Maker not to make yourself a fool—it’s too early to pay for the sin you’ve committed to your friends, to suffer the consequences of your pride, for which you are not ready.

“Master Kenobi”. You bow your head out of respect. “Your condolences are warm-felt and most appreciated, thank you. Indeed, Master Windu thought prudent that I should get my preparation for such an expected moment under a wise Master such as yourself. It is an honor to me, sir.”

The older man, experienced in countless battles and known for his tact in diplomacy, smiles at you. You already know that a path of suffering is on your way, since how a man such as Obi-Wan Kenobi would ever look at an inexperience woman as yourself? The mere thought would make you blush had you not been mindful that this man is capable of reading minds.

“Oh please”, he chuckles. “I am unworthy of such adjectives, Miss Y/N. I too was once like you, a Jedi in preparation to become a Master. Soon, a seat at the council will be yours to take.”

Somehow this perception had never been taken in consideration until now. Yet, you are careful in keeping your emotions in check.

“I only pray to get more experiences in field, sir, before being worthy of such a seat.”

Obi-Wan seems to admire this humility trait you display naturally. If only Anakin had this same thought… Again, the Jedi smiles at you.

“Well, not everything about Jedis concerns the battlefield, miss Y/N. Whilst today we are remembering some of the martial arts that are most important to defend ourselves from the enemy out there, it must not be forgotten that diplomacy is as important to use as any light saber.”

You nod attentively. There is a moment where his eyes capture something in yours, though—what is it, he is afraid to say. Obi-Wan clears his throat, diverting from the temptation of the flesh his heart seems to incline.

“Get your saber. Show me what you have, miss Y/N.”

You nod your head. Concentrated, you refuse to give ears to that of yourself who wishes to show off your abilities. You want to prove your worth. Master H/N never managed to wipe out this insecurity of yours, but here you are… Nearly close to be overshadowed by it.

Nonetheless, Obi-Wan looks at you rather surprised. He did indeed underestimate you initially, an error he now does tries to placate. You put your best at show, and it is only once he manages to defeat you.

“Well done, Miss Y/N”, Obi-Wan claps at you before helping you to stand. “You were well taught by Master H/N. He would be proud.”

Your emotions betray your balance as you blush and look momentarily down at your feet before flashing a smile to Obi-Wan.

“Thank you, Master Kenobi. You will find in me a student who tries her best in doing her assignments.”

Obi-Wan smiles back at you.

“A trait I wish my former Padawan had cared to develop, I’m afraid. Well, I don’t think we are having many difficulties from now on, Y/N. Though I should warn you I am not making things easy for you.”

You chuckle in response before flashing him a smirk:

“I am not expecting otherwise, Master.”

Something about this response pleases him more than a Master normally would…

***

As each day that passes one less gets to your trials, Obi-Wan keeps his promises and you find yourself involved in complicated missions and harder trainings to the point you end your days exhausted.

“You are doing surprisingly well”, he tells you once you finish your presentation concerning the genealogy of diplomacy in different aspects of Jedi history, dominating every point he asks you. This is far worse than trying to block his blows when in field. “I think it is fair to say we are closer to end the practice before your trials.”

“Closer to end?”, you scoff at him. “Master, I thought you’d give me a break after this presentation!”

He smiles at your protests.

“You are excelling yourself, Y/N, but this does not mean you ought to relax. Not yet. What we will do next is diminish considerable your exercises. Besides, you will have this weekend off.”

You sigh heavily. You could easily drop in bed right now. Obi-Wan approaches, placing a hand over your shoulder, aware of your exhaustion.

“I mean every word I said, Y/N.”

“I thought you are no man to give some compliments”, you tease him in return.

“You are just too tense to see that I am not that serious a man I am”, he chuckles.

By saying so, he asks you if you’d like some massage and as you say you do, you realize that was something you shouldn’t have done. At the mere touch of his masculine hands full of callous against your soft skin, you start to feel a heat rising in between your legs that you are sure it is not the result of trains.

To worse matters, this simple gesture seems to bond one’s thoughts to another. Obi-Wan is surprised to find you reciprocate his attraction to you. Maybe something more is developing, seeing an attachment is ready to give fruits.

He should have removed his hands, but his mind starts to wonder what would be like to remove every tension from your body. Would you give in to his touch? How would you react if he massaged your nipples, twirling each one under his fingers?

The mere idea starts to give him a boner. Obi-Wan comes to realize that to be close to you is a dangerous thing to do. Hence why he abruptly interrupts it and gives you a lame excuse before leaving you out there, confused and upset for his sudden depart.

***

You decide that whatever impressions you have of your Master are the result of any admiration a Padawan would have for their superiors. Though you are no longer a Padawan, you feel as if you are once the days of your trials get closer.

Despite seeing how tense you are, Obi-Wan not only attempts to sooth your fears but also gets harder on you to the point you will leave little doubt about going excellent in the exams.

Though unbeknownst to you, one day Anakin Skywalker is watching your physical practices and he says:

“You never did get this hard on me, Master”, he remarks in a tone Obi-Wan cannot identify. “Why are you different with her? I don’t think Master H/N would follow these tactics and…”

“It’s for her best, Anakin. She has some struggles that she must overcome.”

Ahsoka smirks, understanding before her Master what has been implied. Hence why she remarks:

“Struggles with what exactly? The feelings she might harbor for you?”

She earns looks from both men, Anakin looking rather amused and Obi-Wan not so.

“Ahsoka Tano, that is not what I’ve meant by any chance.”

She tries not to burst into giggles and Obi-Wan sighs heavily, deciding to excuse her youth for such an improper observation.

“Or maybe is it you who hopes to find flaws in Y/N in order to defeat the admiration you’ve nurtured?” Anakin softens then: “It’s been a while since Satine, Master. The war is over, it’s more than time that you…”

Obi-Wan sighs exasperatedly.

“I was not expecting you to speak nonsenses, Anakin. You, above all, should be with familiar the fact that…”

“Jedis must not form attachments”, meddles Ahsoka, completing his sentence. “And yet, look at whom you are talking to, Master. Don’t you know Padmé is pregnant for the third time?”

Obi-Wan blushes as his own reasoning is played against him. But it gives the perfect opportunity to change topics, much to Anakin’s dismay.

In the meantime, once you defeat the droids, you take a break at the white room, trying to catch your breath. It has been an exhausting week, which sucked out your energy to the core, but you've managed relatively well.

You remember your friends praising you for achieving what only Anakin Skywalker had managed to: accomplish the hard work Obi-Wan Kenobi tends to give when he has Padawans under his guidance---which only occurred with the now Master Skywalker.

"He has quite a reputation", you were told by your fellow Jedi H/N. "And I see you are doing well."

Despite the univiting affection that has been growing for the man you aim to please--a feeling you are on the way to repress, or trying to--your attempts in staying humble sometimes do not succeed.

“Why, It’s what we do”, so was your answer. “I don’t see me doing otherwise.”

Often you jest about it, getting others to laugh at your confidences, however in reality, far from the eyes of the public, you find hard to suppress the attachment you develop for him.

So all you do is avoid his presence whenever you can. At least when trainings end. But this behavior has been noticed by Obi-Wan. He is well aware of your attempts to wipe out the unwelcoming attachment you feel for him—something he has been trying to do himself—but he does not wish this unspoken tension to change the dynamics of your relationship.

So perhaps if you both come to terms to it, all will end well. Or so he thinks.

“Y/N Y/LN.”, he meets you in the corridors. It’s a Saturday, a day he usually leaves it to your rest. “My dear, may I have a word with you later today at about 6 o’clock at the masters’s quarters?”

He knows you would find an excuse, but knowing you usually take Saturday to rest, you have thus no commitment that could impede you two to meet. By confronting you in public, Obi-Wan knows you would hardly refuse. And he is right in his assumptions, though no one but him notices the pink that colors your cheeks.

“I… Of course, Master Obi-Wan. I’ll be right there.” You sound rather shyly, which by your friends who are nearby interpret it as a sign of respect.

He side smirks at you, telling you he is looking forward to talk to you. But as you two depart, his blue eyes follow your moves. That day, your hair is tied in a pony tail and you dress your usually Jedi robes. To his surprise, you are the quietest of your small group of friends. He then realizes that he wishes to know you more, a thought he is quickly to dismiss.

***

When you show up at the time you and Obi-Wan agreed to—or rather, he decided—, you find yourself nervous. Dressing more informally, you let your y/c hair loose as you fake a confidence that is normally attributed to you. If only people knew that is how you mask your insecurities.

But as you lift your hand to knock on the door, it is as if Obi-Wan is already expecting you. He opens it and greets you with delight in his eyes and a smile that melts you.

“Miss Y/N. Please come in.”

You barely notice how that room is private and rarely used. All you care about is the smile on that man’s face that rises to his blue eyes.

“Master”, you smile back. “What is the occasion of our meeting? I believed you promised to let me rest this weekend.”

Obi-Wan chuckles as he offers you a seat. Once you do, he starts preparing tea. It is only then he answers you:

“This is not about any training, my dear. In all honesty, I’ve been preoccupied with you. I never thought to get to know you properly.” He makes a pause before adding: “I didn’t ask how you dealt with Master H/N’s demise nor how was your training. I disrespected your grief. I wanted to amend this mistake of mine.”

You are surprised by his small speech, clearly not expecting these words, yet at the same time admiring his maturity. You offer him a smile as he serves you tea with cookies. Once he takes a seat opposite to yours, you say:

“I don’t think there is anything to apologize for, Master. Though I do appreciate your concern for me, I didn’t expect it was your obligation to get to know me at all. I was never your Padawan, for a start.”

“Nonetheless, as your new Master I believe to be most appropriate to hear what you have to say.” He hesitates for a moment. “This is a mistake I do not wish to commit again.”

And this is how it begins. In between smiles, you tell him about your journey as a Padawan to Master H/N, how he found you at planet Y/C and how he was much a father to you. You also told him about your favourite books, the tricks you used at some missions you’ve been assigned to.

Obi-Wan, on his turn, tells you his links to Master Qui-Gon Jinn, his scare memories concerning his family. Before you both know, the tea reunion is far lighter than you thought you’d be.

It is late night when three cups of tea had been drank and you think prudent to go back to your quarters. As you stand, so does Obi-Wan. But something seems changed when both of you lock gazes.

“I believe by now we can address one another by each other’s names, Y/N.”

You smile widely at him, a view he is mostly pleased to see. Whatever reservations you might have had with each other seem to dissipate. As you stand by the door, he takes your hand almost unconsciously.

To feel his mere touch incurs in diving into a magnetic field, resulting in waves of heat that could set both of you into an explosion. But both of you pretend nothing has happened…

“I believe we do, Obi-Wan. Thank you for the day, it’s been most pleasant.”

“Indeed it has, Y/N”. He makes a pause, rubbing your wrist with his thumb. “Are you feeling more comfortable now?”

“Well I’ve never been uncomfortable around you, Obi-Wan. Far from it.” You side smirk at him. “Though I appreciate your kindness. You are a good man. My master would be very thankful to know I have been entrusted to your guidance.”

One long glance. You might give more than you want to and Obi-Wan knows it. It is as if you are both mesmerized with each other, but one noise coming from the corridors breaks the spell and you are disappointed when he lets go of your hand.

***

You finally become a Jedi Master. After years working hard to accomplish a goal that has been set up to achieve from the days Master H/N spotted the Force in you, after a turbulent period you were forced to go through, especially at the demise of the one you looked at as a father, after a hard-work training under the guidance of Master Obi-Wan Kenobi… You succeed in it.

“Congratulations, Master Y/N Y/LN. To achieve the higher ground you did. Though much to learn you had, never ending a path knowledge is”, says Master Yoda.

You bend the knee and bow your head in a sign of humility. The ceremony of your rise as Jedi Master carries on with a small speech by Master Windu, a man who you manage to surprise.

“One must admit”, the Jedi smiles, “that I’ve never had any doubt you would succeed, Master Y/LN. You are dedicated and hard-working, qualities very praised by your former Master H/N and your current Master Kenobi.”

Your heart carefully races when your eyes spot the figure of Obi-Wan as he stays beside Master Windu, echoing his speech when adding a few words of his own.

Barely perceptible to those present, however, is the growing affection one feels for the other. One look is enough to defeat the pride that has been shielding each other’s heart…

***

Obi-Wan is patient, though. As the feast ends that late evening, he excuses himself earlier than it’s closing in order to go after you, seeing that you retired earlier.

You look fabulous with your long hair loose like a y/c waterfall of locks. In addition to this unique wild beauty that is so characteristically yours, you dress a purple gown that shows some cleavage as well as your shoulders. It is enough to tempt this man.

That evening you both exchanged very few words since each group, so different in many aspects, reclaimed your attentions. But you are not too social, so you invented something to be dismissed earlier. And so did he.

You are barely making to your quarters when you hear steps. To your surprise, it’s him. And he can hear no only the beatings of your heart but the chaos of your thoughts.

“Master…!”

“Please, it’s Obi-Wan”, he cuts you gently. “There is something I need to tell you that is giving me agony. In fact, if you may, let me clear these things that have been torturing our thoughts. May I?”

You blink, hesitate at first. Fearful that he might have discovered your sentiments, you realize there is little you can do but to acknowledge at long last what you perceive as a lost battle. Yet you are surprised when he takes your face with his hands and presses a soft, but urgent kiss against your lips.

“Oh”, you sigh. When he parts it, he is searching for your eyes, some part of him fearful you might’ve changed your mind. “Obi… I thought…”

“I know. I’ve always known.” Obi-Wan rests his head against yours, eyes closing. You can feel his struggle, so you decide to release the pressure that’s been on his shoulders.

And just like that you pursuit his lips. Shushing every protest that might come from either part, your tongues pair in a sweet melody, though the urgency in the kiss eventually releases the suppression that has only suffocated this far what one feels for the other.

“I am tired of taking it easy”, he admits under his breath as he pins you against the wall. “I’ve been doing so for a little while. Oh, what kind of beast have you turned me into?”

You giggle at his words.

“Hold on just for a while”, you ask in a whisper before leading him to your quarters. “Yet, I must know…”

Obi-Wan is as red as you. When both stare into each other’s eyes, tension remains. But he is patient.

“Yes, dear heart? What is it you fear?” He shortens the distance and takes hold of your face again, delicately so as if you are a fragile thing. “I can read your insecurities. But please tell me what can I do to ease them.”

“I love you”, you don’t think twice. “Damned I am for laughing away my friends for ever falling in love. But I remain loving you, my Master, my mentor. Despite the many rules I would gladly break to be with you, despite how easy I confess with my tongue and body that I am too busy being yours to fall with someone else or to crawl away from you, offering thus my devotion. I need to know if this flows both ways, if you… if you are mine as much as I am yours.”

You explode it, you know. You never before felt so open and fragile, so easily read. All your shields are down and you feel so…unprotected. Yet, Obi-Wan smiles at you, calm and tranquil where you are a puddle of mess.

“I love you. You brought me back to life, Y/N, where I thought it to be impossible. It’s been too long and I fear I would not be the right one for you, being rather old to you.” He pauses as if by putting this out of a fact you would contest and change your mind.

Seeing that you stand where you are, his hands now slide to your waist as you wrap yours around his neck.

“I am yours”, he brushes his lips against yours and his fingers dig into your sides in a possessive manner that makes you smile. “Do you understand? I am yours in many inexplicable and unprofessed ways. Let me show you better with actions…”

He kisses you again. This time it’s slow, better coordinated and with no rush. His body makes it easy for you to trust blindly. This kiss wipes away your fears.

It is only then you feel comfortable in pushing your limits. Because Obi-Wan feels the heat warming your body, he does not shy away in giving to your silent pleas.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”, he asks you softly, looking into your eyes for consent.

“Yes”, you whisper hotly. “I’ve never been so sure before as I am now.”

And that is how it starts…

***

Epilogue.

“In my imagination, when I go back…”

Obi-Wan barely breathes out as your hands promptly tie his hands. Your eyes are transfixed in his closed eyes and his barely open mouth. You smirk slyly as your fingers gently pump his erect member in that same rhythm he taught you that night.

“Yes, love?”, you encourage him to speak his thoughts, though you are aware of how indecent these might be.

Your husband has only recently returned after a long journey and it is only fair that as his wife you greet him properly. So here you are, poorly dressed, spoiling him as you prepare to get to your knees.

“You are a temptation, dear heart”, he arches his back, groaning in evident pleasure. “Don’t make me say these words.”

“Tell me darling…” you ask him softly as you finally take him with your tongue. “I beg you.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes go wide at you.

“M-Maker, I…” He gasps, throughly enjoying your other…abilities, all of which he takes a secretive pride for teaching you. “You are so good in this, my love.”

But before he is about to reach his climax, he lifts you and leads you to bed. His eyes are burning with desire, especially when undressing you at long last.

“I miss you”, he whispers against your lips.

“I miss you, husband.”

And just like that he lies you down in bed and as you tangle him in your legs, the night compensates all the waiting one feels for the other…

#star wars imagine #imagine Star Wars #obi-wan Kenobi #Obi-Wan Kenobi Smut #Obi-Wan smut #Obi-Wan Kenobi x you #Obi-Wan Kenobi x y/n #Obi-Wan Kenobi x female reader #Arctic monkeys

[dracowars]

Hi love! Could I request an obi Wan X reader where it’s late at night and he finds her reading in a library and he joins her?

peaceful | obi-wan kenobi

pairing: obi-wan x jedi!reader

word count: 0,6k

summary: where obi-wan joins y/n in the library

a/n: enjoy <3

warnings: mentions of war

universe: star wars

With your face bathed in a soft bluish glow, you scroll through the pages of the holobook that sits on your lap, only reading the titles of each chapter to see if there is anything relevant to you. Sitting with your legs crossed, you lean against the back of the armchair, which is located right by a large round window and has recently become your new favorite spot. It is only here that you can finally rest, letting your mind wander, and enjoy the rain gently pattering against the window, hiding the dark and busy city beyond.

Coruscant never sleeps and, apparently, neither do you. Especially not these last few days, considering you only have one day left until you embark on one of your longest and probably most dangerous missions so far. For this reason, you try to acquire as much knowledge about the planet and its habitat and inhabitants as you can in the short time since the Jedi Council gave you the instructions.

It is always hard to keep your cool in times of war, but it is moments like these when you can just sit here in the Jedi archives, alone, thinking about everything and nothing. For some inexplicable reason, it gives you a sense of security. The mission will probably cost you the last of your strength, but the end of the Clone Wars is in sight, and if this single mission can bring you a little closer to the end, then you will do just that. Giving your all and fighting for your values, for what is right.

Your eyes get caught on a chapter you find useful, and it is only when you change your sitting position that you suddenly feel a change in your surroundings. You do not even have to look up to know he is here.

"Still out and about at this hour?", you tease him, carefully putting the book aside before looking at him because let's face the truth, you can't take your eyes off of him for more than a few seconds. As soon as you do look at him, however, your heart aches in your chest.

The man in front of you has seen a lot of terrible things in this war and it only makes you want to end it even quicker. His hair is disheveled, probably from tossing and turning back and forth for hours to get his well-deserved sleep, which was obviously not granted to him in the end. Obi-Wan only returned to Coruscant today after being sent out to Kamino for several days, and has to leave again tomorrow, with you. Which is why you made it your task to spare him as many difficulties as possible, dealing with the necessary information intensely.

"I knew I would find you here", is his answer as he sits down on the armchair next to you, a small smile on his lips as he can't help himself but to softly run his hand over your head. "And before you tell me to leave and get some sleep: I can't."

"I know", you respond sadly, only knowing too well how it feels to run on low fuel and still not being able to fall asleep, letting the misery of this galaxy behind. Grabbing his hand, you push your palm against his before closing your fingers around it, squeezing lightly.

Reaching over you with his other hand, Obi-Wan grabs another holobook that you have carefully searched out a few hours ago, leaning back in his seat. But not before placing a soft kiss on your hair, whispering 'I'm proud of you' along the way.

Your heart painfully beats for this man. You know that all of this, everything you have build up, can be over tomorrow, and yet he does not disturb the peace you have built around here. He fades in perfectly and, with your hands intertwined, reads on, the soft glow illuminating his beautiful face.

You can't wait for all of this to be over. Because once it is, you will finally make him yours. And he will finally make you his.

#obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan kenobi fic #obi-wan kenobi os #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi-wan kenobi fanfic #obi-wan kenobi one shot #obi-wan kenobi one shots #obi-wan kenobi fanfiction #obi-wan kenobi ff #obi-wan kenobi imagines #obi-wan kenobi x female reader #obi-wan kenobi x y/n #obi-wan kenobi fluff #obi-wan fluff #obi-wan x y/n #obi-wan x female reader #obi-wan fic #obi-wan ff #obi-wan fanfic #obi-wan fanfiction #obi-wan imagine #obi-wan imagines #obi-wan os #obi-wan one shot #obi-wan one shots #sw imagine #star wars os #star wars one shot #star wars fic #sw fanfiction

[make-me-imagine]

If Only - Part One

Trope: Whump/Comfort (A and B help each other after they are both injured) + Bonus Trope: PINING

((Part Two))

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x GN!Reader

Plot: After a mission turns out to be a set up, Obi-Wan and Y/n flee to safety. Injured, they help each other dress their wounds, trying to ignore the growing feelings and the tension that arises between them.

Warnings: Mentions of fighting/violence, blood, injuries. Angst. No smut, but there are lingering touches and insinuations of "feelings" - basically the closest I get to writing smut anymore.

Words: 3.1k

A/N: This takes place during the Clone Wars. This is also my first time writing for Obi-Wan, sooo, I hope I did him justice.

-

You stared ahead of you, as the distant stars flashed past. You were close to your destination, and the feeling in your gut remained. Glancing over at Obi-Wan as he checked the scanners again, you swallowed, wondering if you should say something. He hadn't mentioned feeling off about this mission, so you assumed maybe you were over-reacting.

"Is there something you wish to say?" His smooth voice broke the silence as he looked over at you.

You felt your cheeks grow hot as he caught you staring. You cleared your throat. "I just-" You hesitated and he frowned a bit, waiting for you to speak. "I have a bad feeling about this."

Obi-Wan watched you for a moment, his face emotionless. Nodding his head he looked down at the screens, noting you would be arriving at your destination in less that three minutes.

"Yes. Me too." He finally said, his voice low.

You felt your heart skip a beat. "Really?"

He looked over at you, and a soft smile graced is face. "You really must stop ignoring your gut feelings Y/n, you'd be surprised how many times you'll be right."

You nodded your head as you looked down at your hands. "Yes, I know. It's just- I don't want to be right." Looking back up, you stared out the window again.

Obi-Wan continued to watch you, agreeing with your thought. He had a bad feeling about this mission too. He could only hope he was wrong, but knowing that you felt it too, he was less confident.

Tearing his eyes away from you, he watched as the ship came out of hyper-speed, in the distance, the small forest planet. He took a deep breath as he began to pilot the ship down to the planet. He went over the plan in his head again.

Arrive at the meeting point. Meet up with the apparent rebels who have information on a planned attack from the Empire. Return to base, and work on a plan. Should be simple, if only for that underlying feeling that this was a trap.

As you and Obi-Wan walked off the ship, you looked around you. The trees towered over you, up above the leaves, you could hear small creatures jumping from branch to branch. Looking into the dense forest ahead of you, you felt as though you were being watched.

Obi-Wan walked up beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. If this was any other situation, you'd be focusing on that. But as you met his eyes, he nodded every-so-slightly. "I feel it too." You both looked out at the forest again. "The meeting point is not far from here. Let's go, but be cautious."

Your hand sat on the hilt of your saber as you followed Obi-Wan into the trees. Your eyes scanned the area constantly, the growing feeling of danger washing over the two of you.

Every once and a while, Obi-Wan would look back at you, making sure you were still close behind him. He wasn't sure about you being with him on this mission. But you insisted on him not going alone, so he allowed you to come. Though you were still in training, you were talented, powerful, and he trusted you more than most, plus he enjoyed your company. But that lead to feelings he should not have, feelings he had to push down deep beneath the surface.

As the sound of a breaking branch was heard to your right, both of you froze. Obi-Wan took a step backwards, towards you, reaching out his arm, signaling you to step away. Walking behind him, he glanced back at you, and you locked eyes. Simultaneously you both took out your sabers, ready for anything.

Hearing another branch break, closer than before, you both waited for whatever it was to appear. Another branch, then another. As something passed through the trees, you felt a relieved and amused breath leave you. The large equine-like animal glanced at the two of you before casually continuing on it's way past.

Obi-Wan looked back at you, noting the smile on your face. He felt his lips quirk in amusement as well. "Okay, let's keep going."

You were about to follow, when suddenly you felt something in the back of your mind telling you to run. "Wait." You muttered out, causing Obi-Wan to look back at you. He saw your face glossed over with something akin to confusion and fear.

And then he felt it. Turning, he looked into the trees. Using his connection to the force, he reached out. There was something close, something big, something dangerous.

He let out a breath. "It's a trap."

Suddenly, a blast came through the trees, striking the tree right beside you, sending you diving to the ground for cover. As another blast came, you and Obi-Wan ran out of the range of fire, diving behind some trees.

Obi-Wan looked your over, making sure you weren't injured. Then, looking into the dense brush, he could see movement in the distance. "They're coming." He whispered, and you nodded. He looked back at you, "Ready?"

You nodded once, before you both began to move silently through the trees. Just because you were being ambushed, did not mean you could not turn the tables.

Jumping down from your cover, the two of you attacked the group of droids that had fired at you. You sliced through them quickly, before turning to one another.

"That was too easy." Obi-Wan said, voicing your shared thoughts.

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, a blast came from the trees behind, striking you in the arm. Letting out a yelp of pain, you turned, ducking down, as another blast shot past. Quickly, Obi-Wan reached down, grabbing one of the androids blasters before firing into the trees. Hearing a metallic cry, and seeing sparks within the trees, you new he had gotten the droid.

You could hear more approaching steps, as what sounded like an army of droids began to push through the dense brush. Obi-Wan reached out, grabbing you and pulling you towards the trees.

As you rushed through the brush ducking as more blaster fire followed, you saw your ship in the distance. But you both knew before you saw, that your ship was surrounded as well.

Running out of the trees, you spun, and with a swing of your arm, you threw out your saber. You watched as it cut through three droids, before you reached out your hand, forcing it back to you. From beside you, Obi-Wan blocked the oncoming blaster fire before taking out the last two droids.

As you made a run for the ship, the droids gained on you from behind. Feeling a sharp pain graze your thigh, you let out a yelp as your leg dropped out from underneath you.

Obi-Wan looked back, seeing you gripping your thigh as you rose to keep walking. Past you, a droid was aiming at you again. Without thinking, he ran towards you, grabbing your arm, he pushed you down, just as another blast rang out.

Obi-Wan winced as the blast grazed his shoulder, burning through his cloak. Pulling you into the ship, you turning, firing at the droids as the ship doors closed. Blasting could be heard striking the ship before Obi-Wan began to take off.

Sliding down the wall, you sat on the floor, waiting until Obi-Wan told you you were in the clear. You winced as you placed your hand on your thigh. The wound was not deep, but it burned just as the one on your arm did.

A few moments passed before Obi-Wan rushed in, his eyes immediately found you sitting on the floor. "Are we clear?" You asked, and he nodded.

"Yes. They failed to track us as well. " Crouching down in front of you, his eyes trailed from your arm to your thigh. Neither wound was deadly, but both were surely painful. "Let's deal with those shall we?" He said softly as he rose, searching for the on-board med-kit.

When he came back, crouching down in front of you, you noted the wound on his shoulder. Suddenly feeling his hand on your arm, you looked at his face, watching as he furrowed his brow, pulling on your sleeve lightly, the fabric was too tight. His eyes shot up, locking onto yours. "You need to take your arm out."

Noting the way your heart leapt in your chest and your cheeks burned, you yanked at your collar, pulling your arm up through your sleeve with a wince. Your now bare arm was out, and you lied it down at your side.

As Obi-Wan's hand's gently grabbed your arm as he cleaned the wound, before lightly spraying it with bacta spray. Your face and neck continued to burn hot as you noted every time his fingers touched your bare skin. You pushed the feeling down beneath the surface, not wanting Obi-Wan to pick up on them.

Focusing so much on your own improper thoughts, you did not pick up on Obi-Wan's. As his hands worked at your arm, wrapping it with a bandage, his eyes unconscious lead up your arm, trailing over your bare shoulder, and then your neck, dropping down to your partially bare chest.

Catching himself, he brought his eyes back to your arm, chastising himself as he tried to shake the inappropriate thoughts away. He felt his body jolt slightly when your arm touched his shoulder. Looking up, he saw you inspecting his shoulder as you pulled lightly at his cloak.

"It's not bad." He muttered, as you continued to look.

"No, it's not" You agreed as you reached down, and grabbed the bacta spray. Leaning forward, you pulled at the fabric, and met his eyes briefly with a light smile. "Your turn."

Obi-Wan's heart palpated lightly as he pulled off his cloak, before yanking down his sleeve. Wiping the wound gently, you sprayed the bacta spray on the wound. As you prepared a bandage, you silently noted the way his eyes seemed to study your profile.

After you placed the bandage, you gently patted it down, your fingers grazed his bare shoulder, and you thought you felt him shiver under your touch. You felt your heart jolt at the thought as you leaned back against the wall, watching him pull up his sleeve.

His eyes trailed down your leg as he adjusted his position. You watched as he gently grabbed your leg, his hands almost fully wrapped around your thigh.

As he gently pulled back some of the fabric of your pants, you spoke in an amused tone, though your heart was pounding. "You're not gonna make me take my pants off are you?"

You saw Obi-Wan's lips curl up into a smile as he continued to look at the wound. "That wont be necessary. The fabric is torn away already" He said softly as his eyes briefly met yours, his eyes almost playful. "Unless you'd prefer too."

You let out a soft laugh. "Careful Obi-Wan, wouldn't want to misinterpret your intentions."

His smile widened as he began to spray the wound on your leg. He felt his chest tighten as you said his name. You were one of the few who called him by his name. Never 'Master', or even 'General', just always his name. He didn't know why it always sounded so different when you said it. Or why he liked it so much.

"What are we going to do when we get back?" You asked, finally breaking the silence.

Obi-Wan let out a breath as he looked up at you. "We will report the ambush, and then find out who sent us this tip in the first place, without checking it out thoroughly. We have many ways to avoid being tricked like this, it shouldn't have happened."

"You think there is a spy at the base?"

"I'm afraid it might be possible."

You nodded pensively, thinking of the possibilities. Looking back at Obi-Wan, he stared into space, surely lost in thought. Realizing his hands were still wrapped around your thigh, you felt your stomach twist. Clearing your throat, Obi-Wan looked at you, before following your gaze down.

Seeing he was still holding onto your leg, he quickly let go. "I apologize."

You smiled at him as you both began to stand up. Your back was against the wall, as you avoided putting weight on your leg. Obi-Wan, who was standing right in front of you, felt an unusual sense of tension take over as he peered down at you. His eyes caught on a small cut on your chin he had failed to notice before. Without thinking he felt his hand rise up, as he gently hooked his fingers under your chin.

You felt your breath hitch in your throat as he did this. You were unsure of what he was doing, until his thumb very gently grazed across your chin. You felt a slight prickling pain, signaling to you that you must have a cut.

Watching as his eyes slowly trailed from your chin, to your lips, you felt your heart beating rapidly in your chest. The tension between you was growing, you were sure neither of you could ignore it. His eyes then trailed from your lips to your eyes, where his gaze held steady.

There was a moment, just beneath the surface where you both felt the overwhelming need to close the distance between you. But as quick as it came, so did the memories of the Jedi code, repeated time and time again until they were drilled into you.

The tension faltered as you both felt you regain control over yourselves. Taking his hand from your face, he cleared his throat softly before he stepped away. "Do you need help?" He asked he looked down at your leg.

You shook your head and smiled softly. "I'm alright, thank you."

Nodding once more, he forced himself to turn away, before he made his way to the cockpit. His heart beat heavily as his chest was tight with various emotion. Guilt, anxiety, desire.

You let out a slow breath when he disappeared. Leaning your head against the wall, you closed your eyes. Chastising yourself for your thoughts you reminded yourself once again who and what you were. You never really agreed with parts of the Jedi code, but you chose to follow them as best you could. You could not give in, no matter how hard it would be.

Some time passed before you felt enough courage to return to the cockpit. When you did, Obi-Wan looked back at you, his eyes looking over your leg as you leaned against the entryway.

You looked out the window for a moment. "How close are we?" You asked.

Obi-Wan looked back at the console, "Not far at all. We're almost there."

You leaned your head against the wall, feeling fatigue beginning to wash over you, just as the cold was. You wrapped your arms around yourself, as you felt a chill erupt over you.

Obi-Wan, glancing back at you, noticed this, and stood up. You watched him closely as he removed his cloak and approached you.

"Here, take this." He said as he offered the cloak to you.

"Oh. Are you sure?" You asked softly.

He nodded once with a smile as he held it out, signaling for you to step forward. Doing so, he stepped closer and swung the cloak around your shoulders before he hooked it around you. Adjusting it, you met his eyes and smiled softly. "Thanks."

Obi-Wan nodded his head very lightly as he found himself unable to step away from you. You were close again, fewer than a foot away. The tension was returning and he knew he would have to force it away again, just as he was sure he would have to do time and time again in the future.

Your eyes locked with his, as you felt your gut twist. Opening his mouth to speak, he quickly close it again before he peered down at the ground and let out a breath. Looking back up at you, you remained silent but questioned him with your gaze.

You felt your whole body freeze as he lifted his hands up, gently grabbing each side of our face. His eyes were locked with yours until he leaned up, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes closed as he did so.

His lips lingered for a moment before he slowly lowered his face, and pressed a kiss to your cheek. You could feel the hair on his face prickling your cheek as he rested his face against yours.

You both stayed silent, acknowledging the tension and emotion flowing around you, as you both resisting the urge to defy your oaths. Slowly, he began to move, his nose gliding slowly over your skin, before he stopped, and placed a third kiss, right at the edge of your lips. You took a quick breath in through your nose as you fought the overwhelming tension.

Another movement, this time, his lips were hovering over yours, one slight movement and they would brush. You wouldn't move, you couldn't. So you waited. Waited for his decision, his next move.

Softly, he spoke, his words making his lips ever-so-slightly brush yours. "If only things were different."

You felt your chest tighten, understanding his resolve, and knowing it mirrored your own. "But they're not." You whispered back, feeling your heart ache.

Pressing his forehead against yours, you both let out slow breaths, his lips still close to yours. "But they're not." He repeated, the resolve and regret evident in his voice.

As he pulled away, you let out a soft breath, as his presence faded. Opening your eyes, you saw him sitting back down in the pilots seat, facing away from you. You could see his profile, as he began to regain his composure. Your chest remained tight, as you swallowed, leaning your head against the wall again.

'They're not. Things are not different, and they might never be. So push these feelings away while you can. Or else you will only continue to hurt more and more.'

That's what you told yourselves, silently, resolutely every time your eyes met, every time your shoulders or hands brushed as you walked side by side. Things were not different. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

If only it were as easy to make the feelings go away as it was for them to form.

If only it got easier to ignore.

If only the rules were different.

If only.

xx End xx

Chapter Two

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo

Star Wars Taglist: @hoeforthefictional, @whimsical-daydreams-blog

#Obi-Wan Kenobi #Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader #Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader #Obi-Wan/Reader #Star Wars #Star Wars/Reader #Obi-Wan Kenobi x you #obi-wan kenobi x y/n #star wars reader insert #obi-wan kenobi fic #obi-wan kenobi one shot #oneshot #one shot #star wars fic #star wars oneshot #obi-wan kenobi x gn!reader #trope #trope week #day 7 #whump #whump/comfort #pining

[thefact0rygirl]

Edging Obi-Wan for the kinktober list?

red | obi-wan kenobi x sith!reader

Kinktober Day Seven: Edging

kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

Rating: Explicit 18+

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Sith!Fem!Reader

Reader Description: reader has red eyes like the sith, but there is no mention of their real eye color.

Warnings: enemies with benefits, dom!reader, edging/orgasm denial, handjob, cock ring use, face sitting

“You’re doing so well, Jedi. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

Obi-Wan tumbles through a fog of arousal and euphoria looking for a witty response, but he can't find the words with your warm breath tickling his cheek. Not when you're kneeling over him, one hand carding through his hair while the other strokes his cock.

He swallows, his tongue feeling too big and too dry for his mouth from the time — has it been minutes, maybe hours? — spent panting and moaning as you tease him mercilessly. And it only continues when you give the tip of his cock a twist of your wrist, a pearl of precum spilling over your fingers. 

“Or should I make this tighter?" Your hand moves to cup his balls, cradling them before gently tapping the rubber ring wrapped around his base. “Hmmm? What do you think?”

There is a deep scratch along his voice as he moans your name. He wants to say something clever, something to throw you off balance and make your thighs clench, but his muddled brain freezes when he meets your intense gaze. Your eyes burn bright red. Red like blood, red like fire, red like the Sith. 

And maybe it’s the ring wrapped around his cock that is toying with his vision, but he swears he can see your natural eye color along the edge of your irises.  He remembers your eyes when there was no red. Bright and shining, just like you. He wishes he could see them again. No red, no war, just you.

Breaking away from his thoughts, he musters a strangled response, “Is this…fuck… is this really necessary? I think you’ve made your point, my dear.”

You tilt your head to the side, an amused smirk donning your lips as you give him a hard stroke. His hips buck underneath you as you slide through the precum gathering at his tip before lifting a finger to your lips. You wrap your lips around it, letting the salty taste of Obi-Wan flood your taste buds.

“Stop acting like that, Jedi,” You say, pulling your finger out of your mouth with a loud ‘pop’. “You know you like this.”

And, fuck, he really does. 

The rubber ring wrapped around him…it makes his cock stand up more than it ever has, his balls swelling a little more than usual with a brighter shade of pink. The veins running along his length are more prominent, bulging more with adrenaline and pleasure pumping through his veins.

Try as he might, you don’t miss the way his dry tongue is unsuccessfully trying to wet his parched lips. “Maybe I can start by helping you with that dry mouth.” You whisper against his ear. Before he can fully process your words, you’re pushing him down on his back and crawling up his chest. Straddling his face, you coo to him, "Let's see if we can remedy that."

Yeah, he fucking loves this.

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[samspenandsword]

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Summary: Kinktober Day 7 — Costumes with Obi-Wan Kenobi Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader; fem!reader with no mentions of her appearance other than a vague costume description. Rating: Explicit, 18+ (Younglings, foundlings, and cadets BEGONE!) Warnings: Explicit sexual content, smut; Costumes, unprotected PIV (PRACTICE SAFE SEX), creampie, mention of fingering, mention of biting kink, Jedi!reader, flirting overload, necking like horny teenagers, inappropriate use of the Force. Word Count: 3.6k

Sam's Pen and Sword Kinktober 2023 Taglist Form

So in Legends, the Jedi go ape for Halloween, and what Kinktober is complete without a good Halloween piece 😉

Also, let me apologize for Tumblr eating the original version of this yesterday 😑 and that it took me longer than I thought it would for me to rewrite it 😬 but I hope everyone enjoys Day 7!

It would surprise most of the general public, but the Jedi Order was in the habit of going, what the academic community called, batshit, for Halloween.

"It's tradition," any Jedi would say to anyone who asked, adopting the most sagely voice they possibly could, all while internally thinking about the costume they'd been designing for half the year. "The younglings enjoy it."

And they did, but any master or knight who claimed it was just the younglings and padawans who enjoyed Halloween was a bold-faced liar.

Every year, the Temple was decorated and spiffed out to the extreme. Fake cobwebs adorned the doorways, carved gourds and harvest plants guarded the thresholds, candles and fake bats hovered through the halls, the scent of spicy and cinnamon crusted treats wafted out from the kitchens through the entire Temple. And there was, of course, no shortage of Halloween pranks. You remembered fondly the year you'd gotten Master Windu good by rigging his mirror to drip fake blood and read "LEAVE THIS PLACE" while fake cockroaches crawled out of his sink. His yell had been heard through half the Temple.

He'd gotten you back. Your master was nothing if not serious, dedicated, and thorough. And with a flair and gift for theatrics too, he'd gotten you back good enough that you'd almost considered never messing with him again.

Almost.

But beyond the pranks and decorations and special treats every year, actual Halloween night was always a time of great cheer for the Jedi. Kind of an unofficial day off for everyone. The younglings could trick-or-treat, go on scavenger hunts, play games, find their way out of the "haunted" maze that the Room of a Thousand Fountains got turned into every year. And at night, after all the little ones had gone to bed, masters and knights could enter costume contests, go to each others' parties, drink spiked cider, go through the haunted maze Master Yoda and Madame Jocasta designed every year. The little troll and strict archivist could come up with some of the creepiest things every year.

And the day before Halloween was also one of the only days of the year where the public could fully visit the Temple. For certain hours of the day, the Temple opened themselves to the public to come visit the mazes and games and even trick-or-treat themselves.

It never failed to amuse you how many people came by expecting some dull, boring Halloween snooze fest only to find themselves faced with giggling, costumed younglings, knights with cider and rosy-cheeks, and masters with ornate and beautiful costumes and proud smiles, and uncomfortably authentic-looking decorations.

The Clone Wars had changed the way the Jedi handled Halloween. Not a ton, as the Jedi had tried their absolute best to go all-out, for everyone needed a good break from the way, but it wasn't quite as all-out as the years before. The younglings didn't really seem to notice, so you supposed that was good. But many knights and masters weren't able to lend their hand to help in the decoration process, or they couldn't spend as much time, if any, working on their costumes. Madame Jocasta, the healers, and the creche masters had really stepped up that first year, helping to keep life at the Temple as similar as possible to before the war broke out. If only for the benefit of the younglings.

But it was to the benefit of everyone, really, to come home to the Temple and see the candles and gravestones and spiderwebs everywhere. It had given you a sense of peace and normalcy you'd not experienced since the start of the war.

Rather than fully design a new costume this year, you'd borrowed pieces from all your old costumes to cobble together something new. You were quite proud of it. And anything that hadn't been reused was donated to your clone troopers, who the Jedi had openly invited to the Temple to join the celebrations. You'd had bins of materials and fabric and makeup and wigs and old costume pieces to give to them. Some of them had been quite thrilled at the sight, having never had a real Halloween before.

And no one did Halloween like the Jedi.

You were, in short, a pirate. And not a pirate like Hondo Ohnaka, the menace. But a traditional sea pirate, with a compass, a cutlass, a big feathered hat, tall buckled boots, a sweeping red coat, and sparkling gold jewelry. You'd had to alter some of your items, like adding the feather to the hat, and adding some extra buckles to your boots, but overall, you were proud of how you looked.

Someone else seemed to be appreciating how you looked as well, judging by how he'd rarely taken his eyes off you since you'd come into the room.

The people who said Obi-Wan Kenobi was subtle had obviously never made an effort to pay attention any time he even opened his mouth, because the man was not subtle. Refined, yes. Precise, yes. Distinguished, sure. Subtle?

No.

Everyone who was anyone knew that the reason Anakin Skywalker was so flashy was because he'd learned from Obi-Wan.

The man himself looked very distinguished right now. He always did. But right now he was dressed in a form-fitting, tailed suit of black with red trimming. It had a high collar, and his copper hair was slicked back into a more severe swoop than usual. Though, you noted with amusement, there always seemed to be one strand that refused to stay in place. That strand was currently being brushed back by Obi-Wan's fingers, encased in black leather gloves. His other hand grasped a simple black cane, and he wore stylish boots of shining black.

It was not a usual look for Obi-Wan, who you were used to seeing in beiges and tans and tabards. But Force, if he didn't look frustratingly handsome in the fitted black.

He looked paler than normal, and more tired, but you guessed that was because of the dim, colored lights of the mess. At least, until you got closer and saw he was wearing makeup. Nothing extreme. Just enough to give him a paler complexion and dark circles under his eyes.

Obi-Wan's eyes remained locked on you as you grew closer, his mouth quirking into that charming half-smile, half-smirk of his.

The sight of it always made your insides flutter, and you smiled back as you reached the small group congregating by the dessert table.

"Not eating, Master Kenobi?" you asked, eyeballing Anakin and Ahsoka as they crowded around the table.

Obi-Wan flashed a grin. A grin that showed a pair of shining, white fangs. "While it looks delicious, the feast tonight is not quite to my tastes, my dear."

It took a lot for you not to burst out laughing. "Yes, not quite rich enough in iron, I suppose."

Obi-Wan's grin flashed more genuinely.

Ahsoka caught sight of you.

"You look great!" she cheered. So did she, with grey makeup and shredded clothing, she looked like an incredible zombie. She even had done her montrals to look like they were rotting and decomposing.

"You too, 'Soka," you said. It was nights like tonight that reminded you of just how young she was. And how much she needed tonight to help her feel like a child again. You side-eyed her master, who was young himself. He wore brown leathers not wholly unlike his usual clothing.

"And what are you supposed to be?"

"Uh, I'm a pilot?" Anakin stared at you like it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy.

"I told him it was a stupid costume," Ahsoka said.

"Hey!"

"Rex agreed with me."

Anakin ignored her, saying to you, "I'm a fighter pilot from Naboo."

"Reliving your glory days?" you teased. Anakin had told the story of the Battle of Theed more times than you could count.

Obi-Wan spoke before Anakin could think of a response. "Doesn't the Naboo Royal Space Fighter Corps wear orange?" he asked, innocently.

Anakin scowled, and you and Ahsoka just about fell over laughing.

Obi-Wan's eyes never left you for long. He felt magnetized to the sight of you, whether you were wearing a costume or not. But something about this... The collared, white ruffles of your poet shirt dipped tantalizingly over your cleavage. Nothing considered immodest, but enough to attract Obi-Wan's attention like a fly into honey. The jaunty sit of your hat and fluttering of your lashes seemed entirely more seductive than you usually were, and Obi-Wan couldn't get enough of you even on a regular basis. Your jewelry glittered in the low lights like the kyber of the Ilum ice caves, every glow and shine drawing him further and further in, ready to receive what you would give him. And with the way your skintight leggings curved over your legs, framed by that coat and tucked into those karking boots, Obi-Wan thought you looked more like a siren than a pirate.

Obi-Wan blinked, and found that you were looking at him.

"You look amazing, Obi-Wan," you said, smiling that breathtakingly gorgeous smile at him. "Very classic costume."

Kriff, you were just so beautiful. And tempting.

There was a touch of mischief to Obi-Wan's returning smile. You wouldn't know it was there unless you knew that Obi-Wan could be a little shit when it suited him.

"And you, my dear, look... dangerous."

Your core instantly tightened and your breath hitched. And judging by the continued, pleasant, mischief-edged smile on Obi-Wan's face, he knew it.

"You're only saying that because you know I can beat you in lightsaber combat."

Obi-Wan continued to grin, entirely too charming for his own good.

"That's part of the reason, yes."

You smothered the smile that wanted to grow, instead saying, sternly, "I am not sharing."

"But, my dear —"

"No! Senator Organa gave me that bottle of wine as a gift, you are getting none of it. I know you, Kenobi. You'd drink the entire thing before I even got a drip. It is being saved for a special occasion."

Obi-Wan swept his gaze around the room, observing the festivities and celebrations. "And tonight's not special enough?"

"Your charm hasn't worked on me in years, Obi-Wan," you said. It was a lie. His charm had worked on you from day one and continued to do so. You'd stopped fighting it long ago.

And he knew it.

"Are you quite sure about that?"

Whatever response you could give was cut off by an impressively petulant groan from Anakin.

"Maker, would you two stop? I'm trying to eat."

Your mouth stretched into a grin, one that made Ahsoka cackle and Anakin try to backpedal.

"I take it back, Obi-Wan. I was lying before. Your charm does work on me. In fact, it works so well that I have a confession to make."

You turned to him, draping yourself to his front and your lips falling into a lovelorn pout.

"I have fallen madly in love with you, Obi-Wan. And I can no longer bear it. Tell me it is returned, my love. Tell me and spare me the pain of living without you any longer. Tell me, my love, and let us depart at once. I know someone on Alderaan, and though I know it's rushed and unorthodox, they would be happy to marry us this night!"

"Oh, Force, spare me —"

Obi-Wan ignored his former padawan, locking his amused, but oddly fervent gaze with yours. The hand not holding his cane wrapped low around your hips.

"A love like ours cannot be denied. A love so pure is surely written in the stars." He flashed his fanged smile. "Join me, my love. Let me give you all the freedom the seas have to offer, and an eternity to spend with me. The eternal night will not be so cold when we have each other to spend it with. You shall be mine, and I shall be yours. Forever. Welcome my bite, and share in our immortal love."

You couldn't keep in your laughter anymore, ducking your head down to burst out into furious giggles. Ahsoka wasn't much different.

"Eternal night? Immortal love???"

"You didn't like it?"

"I think I threw up in my mouth a little, but otherwise I loved it. Use that next time you flirt with Ventress, she'll be so caught off guard you can capture her."

"That's not a bad suggestion."

Ahsoka collapsed into giggles again when she saw that Anakin was simple staring into the distance, an agonized grimace etched on his face.

"Shuts him up every time," You nodded to Anakin and bumped your hip to Obi-Wan's.

Obi-Wan gave you an amused smirk, slowly shifting until your hips were touching again. Your skin was set alight where you touched.

"Like nothing else."

You laughed.

* * *

“Obi-Wan…” 

The gasp left your lips, quiet and hushed in the glow twilight streaming through the windows. His beard felt exquisite against the skin of your neck, and you sighed at the kisses he placed along its length. 

His cock felt exquisite, buried as it was so deep inside you, pumping tenderly, almost teasingly. 

Obi-Wan’s fangs had long been discarded, but he was still latched to your neck as if he were looking for a place to latch on. 

You almost wanted him to.

As if sensing your desires, and he probably could, Obi-Wan sucked your skin into his mouth and nibbled it gently with his teeth. You gasped in his hold. 

“That’s it, darling,” Obi-Wan cooed. He released your neck with a lewd suck and kissed your jaw. “Let me hear you.”

You and Obi-Wan had lasted exactly one hour before needing to sneak away from the festivities to enjoy each other. The combination of having not seen each other much in the last months, both busy as war generals, the calming normalcy of the Halloween celebrations, and the rare sight of each other in costume was intoxicating to the both of you. Obi-Wan could barely keep his eyes off of you, so gorgeous and alluring in the way you flitted around, visiting with friends and family you hadn't seen in months, complimenting the younglings on their costumes, making sure your men were having fun. And the way you always looked back at him, periodically, and just often enough that no one but he would notice your desire. And your focus felt laser-trained on him, constantly aware of his presence and how it related to you: how far away from you he was, whether he was facing you or not, even when he was blinking or flicking away that bothersome piece of hair that never stayed in place. You were aware of all of it, and the curve of his back, and the way his hands looked in those gloves, and the way the dark colors of his costume made his hair more red than usual.

And combined with the way his signature in the Force kept pulsing, wafting over your skin and mind in a tease of a caress, you both could barely stand to not sneak away after an hour.

And now, with Obi-Wan buried as far as he could be inside you, you pressed against the bookshelves of his Temple apartments with those tight leggings rolled down to your knees, and his costume unfastened to reveal the muscled expanse of his chest, pressed tight to yours, you caressed each other with the Force as much as you did with your bodies.

Obi-Wan's signature normally felt like he did: steady, calm, deliberate, with a layer of mischief and humor hiding underneath it all. But right now, it rippled across your awareness with a sort of insistence, an insatiableness, and it only made you keen into him.

"Let me hear you," he encouraged again, lips dragging from your jaw to your cheekbone.

"Obi-Wan," you gasped, and your presence in the Force wrapped around him as firmly as your arms did.

The urgency from earlier had calmed a little. Where earlier you and Obi-Wan had nearly scrambled, removing just enough clothing to where you could feel his chest and that he could slip his fingers inside you to discover you didn't need much prep, the haste had calmed into something more languid. Now with his cock inside you, you could take the time to enjoy the feeling of it. It had been so long since you'd felt him. You could take the time to bask in the way it dragged in and out of you, and simply enjoy the weight and stretch, in no rush to reach your high.

And you could relish in the way Obi-Wan kissed you. The soft scratch of his beard on your skin, the tickle of his wayward strand of hair on your cheek. Obi-Wan kissed you how he handled his lightsaber: beautifully. Precise, deliberate, with enough push and pull to let you know he was having fun with this. That he enjoyed kissing you.

That he was as much a master at this as he was at Soresu.

And all the while he continued to thrust into you.

"So beautiful," Obi-Wan murmured, breaking away from the kiss with a little suckle to your lower lip. You sighed into him, closing your eyes and leaning your head back as his thrusting sped up just the tiniest bit.

"Missed you," you said, voice breathy from the embrace of his presence. It suddenly overwhelmed you, like you were only now realizing that yes, he was here, he was with you.

He was inside you.

You clenched around him with the sudden rush of emotion, making Obi-Wan moan.

"Darling..."

He began to thrust faster.

The long coat you wore barely did anything to cushion you against the press of the bookshelves on your back, but that was the last thing you cared about right now. Right now all you could think of was the heat building inside you, the rush of arousal, and the weight of Obi-Wan's presence and own arousal, rising around you like the rising of the tide and you were the beach it would inevitably crash into.

You welcomed it. You wanted it.

Obi-Wan sensed it, grunting and thrusting hard into you.

Time began to pass in a haze of pleasure, your mind absolutely spinning with it. The pressure inside you built like a storm, gathering and compressing into a molten center that would eventually snap and release. And at the center of the whirlwind was Obi-Wan. Absorbing and giving you everything you wanted. Everything you needed.

You wanted to absorb and give everything back to him too.

So as your feelings began to rise, it brought you closer and closer to your high. And Obi-Wan could feel it, groaning with each wave that washed over him. It brought him closer too, and his pumping grew faster, and harder.

"Obi-Wan!" you gasped, clutching hard to his back.

His head had fallen back to your neck, and his lips brushed the skin of it with each encouragement he murmured.

"Beautiful," he said. "Let go, darling. I've got you."

You needed nothing else, your body seizing in the most intense and steady climax you'd ever experienced.

As you came, your presence in the Force swelled and glowed, like a beacon for his own release. And Obi-Wan rushed to meet it, thrusting only a few more times into your fluttering walls until his own end crashed over him.

The seed he spilled inside you was incidental compared to the tangling of his presence in the Force with yours, the way it crashed into yours and wrapped around it like they could merge into one. It made you gasp, feeling like every part of you, from the blood in your veins to your mind to your heart was ignited into starlight. And it along with the warmth splashing against your walls reignited your orgasm.

For several minutes, the room was full of nothing but moans of ecstasy and the warmth of the Force. Until finally, in unison, yours and Obi-Wan's bodies relaxed, and the air settled into a calm. Your Force presence still mingled with his, a steady, rhythmic, comforting embrace.

Obi-Wan kissed you. You smiled into it.

"Glad you took out those fangs," you murmured into him, never fully parting your lips.

He smirked a little into you, capturing your lips once again before responding. "Thought you liked the costume."

"I do." You stroked your hand up the fabric on his back and over his shoulder, fingers trailing across the copper hair of his chest. "But knowing me, I was going to catch my tongue on one of those things, dislodge it, and accidentally swallow it. And that would've really ruined the mood."

Obi-Wan burst out laughing. The sound of it was so warm that you couldn't help your soft smile.

Obi-Wan gently pulled out of you, and you could feel the sticky mess of both your releases begin to smear across your thighs. Obi-Wan disappeared briefly, grabbing a towel from his refresher. He cleaned both of you up, and after you both fixed your clothing and you fitted your hat back on, all evidence of what had transpired was hidden.

Until the both of you could bask in each other once again.

Likely later tonight. You and Obi-Wan were insatiable.

"Ready to go through the haunted maze?" you asked, grinning.

Obi-Wan kept a neutral expression. "Of course."

Your grin widened teasingly. It was no secret that the haunted maze was not Obi-Wan's favorite Halloween tradition. "Don't worry, Obi-Wan. I'm sure Anakin will be more than happy to hold your hand."

Obi-Wan's lips quirked. "You're assuming Anakin will actually want to go in there."

It was no secret that Anakin didn't exactly like the haunted maze either. You and Ahsoka, on the other hand, loved it.

"Are you kidding?" you scoffed. "All I have to do is call him a chicken and he'll be running in there."

Obi-Wan smiled fully now. "I bet that Alderaanian bottle of wine of yours that he only lasts five minutes before screaming."

You smirked. "Three minutes."

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[iburnedmyselfalive]

FOREVER.

┃synopsis brothers best friend!sam x female reader,, reader takes sam with her to get her nipples pierced.

┃18+ nsfw, all smutty n shit I know i said i would be taking a break for awhile but guys this is based on a true story (winks) and its been bugging me, not proofread sorry :’(

You and Sam Monroe have always shared a close bond, perhaps inevitable given his status as your brother's best friend. Over the years, with his frequent presence, your relationship naturally blossomed, forging a strong connection between the two of you.

Your birthday came and went, and just a couple of days prior, you finally mustered the courage to book an appointment for a piercing you'd been longing for. Despite your excitement, you couldn't shake the nerves; you were a total wimp when it came to pain. Faced with the prospect of enduring it alone, you pondered the idea of bringing along a friend for support.

Initially, Sam wasn't your first choice at mind, but with all your other friends tied up, you figured, why not? After all, he'd seen your body before, albeit accidentally during that awkward vacation moment when he stumbled upon you changing. Though flustered at the time, it was never brought up again.

As he locked his car and stood beside you, he gallantly held the door open. "So, y'feelin' nervous?" he teased, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"No," you replied, your tone dripping with sarcasm, rolling your eyes as the piercing shop loomed ahead.

"Maybe a little," you confessed in a hushed whisper, earning a shake of his head and a chuckle. He reached out, grabbing the door for both of you, his easy confidence adding a touch of reassurance to your jittery nerves.

As you approached the front desk, butterflies twisted in your stomach, a nervous energy coursing through you. Confirming the appointment, the receptionist informed you that they'd be ready in about fifteen minutes due to the busy schedule. You nodded reassuringly, both you and Sam making your way to the small seating area.

He could sense your unease, fully aware that this moment would rattle your nerves. "Drink," he offered, handing you a bottle of water you hadn't even realized he brought along.

"Relax, I'm right here, remember? n' you've gotta stay hydrated, you look pale. Does this shit really get you that worked up?" he questioned as you accepted the cold bottle, nodding in response. A mixture of nerves and excitement coursed through you; after all, you'd been eagerly anticipating getting your nipples pierced for ages.

Shortly thereafter, you found yourself in the chair, your shirt pulled up and bra discarded, feeling a rush of vulnerability as the piercer meticulously arranged her equipment. With a gentle touch, she guided you to lie back on the piercing table, where she began the process of cleansing both of your nipples with precision, using alcohol and surgical scrub.

"I'm going to need you to take a deep breath, alright?" she asked, her voice calm but firm, as she positioned the needle within your line of sight. You nodded, steeling yourself for the inevitable discomfort, and closed your eyes, bracing for the sensation.

"Relax," Sam's voice broke through the tension, his tone soothing yet tinged with a hint of excitement. Despite his attempt at reassurance, you couldn't help but feel his gaze lingering on your exposed chest, his curiosity palpable.

As you focused on regulating your breathing, you couldn't shake the awareness of Sam's presence beside you, his unwavering attention drawing a flush to your cheeks. Despite the nerves that fluttered within you, there was a strange sense of comfort in knowing that he was there, offering silent support during this intimate moment.

"Took it like a pro," he whispered softly, his hand a reassuring presence on your back as you both emerged from the place. There was no denying the pain, it was sharp and present, impossible to ignore. But even in the midst of it, you couldn't help but be aware of Sam's gaze, lingering a bit longer than necessary on your chest.

His eyes traced the movements of the piercer with keen interest, noting every grimace and subtle shift in your demeanor as the needle pierced your skin. It was as though he was cataloging every moment, every reaction, committing it to memory with a mixture of fascination and concern.

And damn well you were taking him like a pro now.

"You think you're special, princess?" he sneered as he loomed over you, your legs tucked up, stuffing you fully. "All dolled up, begging for it like a good little slut," he taunted, his gaze burning with raw dominance.

"Just like those piercings, you're gonna take every inch of me, whether you can handle it or not," he declared, with each aggressive thrust, he asserted his power over you, his cock buried deep in you, his balls slapping against your skin as your juices flowed freely, dripping all down your ass.

"You're nothing but a toy for me to use," he growled, reveling in your surrender. "Beg for more, beg for it like the desperate whore you are," he commanded, his voice dripping with authority.

"oh fuck, sam!" you cried out, eyes squeezing shut.

"That's right, take it all, take it like the filthy little slut you were meant to be," he snarled, his lips assaulting your neck in a possessive kiss before he left his mark, branding you as his in the most primal of ways.

"So fuckin' sexy," he murmured against your skin, his lips finding purchase around your breast, his eyes locked onto yours as his tongue teased over the piercing.

"Sam," you pathetically whimpered,

"mhm," he mocked in response, the vibrations sending a delicious sensation through you. "You like that?" he asked, pulling away for a brief moment before attacking your other nipple with a fierce hunger, sucking hard.

"yes, yes, yes," you moaned, your fingers tangling in his hair, urging him on as pleasure surged through your body.

"I can feel you getting off on this," he snarled while he pushed his fingers into your mouth. "You tryna' let everyone know what we're doing baby, hm?" he taunted, his lips grazing your ear with a hint of menace.

"m'gonna cum" you whined out, squirming beneath him.

"Even your dear brother?" he sneered, completely ignoring you.

"He'd tear me apart if he caught us like this," he warned, his fingers probing deeper. "But you know damn well I won't stop, no matter who walks in," he growled, his desire fueling his aggression.

"Do you like 'em?" you managed to choke out, your voice strained around his fingers, but he only chuckled darkly.

"You know I do. Watching you squirm as you got them had me throbbing," he admitted, his grip tightening on your hair.

"I've been waiting for this moment since the damn beginning," he spat, the anticipation making him reckless.

"And now that they're healed, I'm going to show you," he promised, his voice dripping with cruel intent.

"I'm going to show you just how much I love 'em, how much I love you ."

#dividers by @saradika #hayden christensen #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #aesthetic #anakin and ahsoka #anakin smut #star wars #anakin x you #sam monroe #hayden christensen x reader #sam monroe smut #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe x you #sam monroe x y/n #obi wan and anakin #obi wan #rots #kenobi #star wars anakin #dom!anakin #sub!anakin #sam monroe fanfiction #hayden christensen smut #anakin and padme #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker one shot #hayden christensen imagine

[shrenvents]

My Bounty.

Warnings: Smut. Vaginal, unprotected sex, force play. Minors dni

Pairing: Clone Wars (single) Anakin Skywalker x Bounty Hunter reader

Summary: Anakin Skywalker goes above and beyond to make your life difficult, taking whatever he wants without explanation. So when reader confronts him, things don’t go exactly as planned.

Word count: 1.7k

…

The meddling nature of the Jedi was nothing compared to the nature of Anakin Skywalker. His darkness seeps its way into everything. His dark robe, gloves, boots, curls, eyes. He was the darkness enveloping me in a dizzying spiral of hate and desire. And he did it again. He stole my bounty just so he could give me that dark look.

His gaze observes the way my fists clench and how I chew my bottom lip. A wicked smirk dances on his face as clones praise and pat him on the back. He knew exactly what he was doing, watching me with an intensity, that had me shaking.

Finally, Anakin’s eyes move away from my figure, beckoned by his Master. He stalks towards Obi-Wan Kenobi and his mocking facade breaks instantly. I nearly scream at the sight. What was he hoping to achieve? Stealing my potential profits is certainly an interesting pastime, not one you would expect from “the chosen one.”

I huff out my frustration, deflating my tense shoulders. With his back now turned, I relax. Pivoting on my heel, I hurry away from the scene. On to the next hunt, before Skywalker gets the chance to take it from me.

Frankly, I have no clue how it started, his fixation with making me miserable. I almost feel paranoid, as if I’m making up the whole debacle. But from the way he looks at me, unspeaking, I know this truly is my reality. Anakin Skywalker hates me.

...

Now glaring at my reflection within the confines of my room, my restraint runs thin. I’m not gonna do it. I’m not gonna do it. I’m not gonna do it. I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna confront him because that sort of thing always goes well.

I head out towards the Jedi temple where Skywalker is most likely training his Padawan. While marching over, I contemplate the arguments I will bring up when face-to-face with him. How I will look into those comet-like eyes and not get distracted by his plump lips.

Moral of the story, I’m going to put an end to this one-sided game we play.

Once my vision connects with his broad back, his name escapes me without hesitation, “Anakin.” Saying it takes me by surprise, seeing as though I’ve never said it before. But clearly, it shocks him more, as when he turns around, his eyes are vaguely wider than I’ve ever seen them. “Y/n,” he says back flatly, face becoming neutral. Now I’m really taken aback by the way my name rolls off his tongue. Quickly, I collect myself and remember my well-thought-out points.

“What are you doing?” And out the window they go.

Anakin quirks his head quizzically. His silent reply to my rather stupid question ticks me off further. I’m practically vibrating with rage. “That was my mark you stole today Skywalker, you realize that?”

As if he’s finally understood my inarticulate speech, his lips part dumbly in “awe.” There he goes pushing my buttons, silently watching me unravel. “You think I wouldn’t notice?“ My face flushes red as I elaborate. “All the crooks you’ve miraculously caught are always the bounty that I’m after.”

There's a beat of silence where he inspects the way my chest heaves in exasperation. Then he speaks. “About time you did.” He states matter-of-factly. My jaw drops. “Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’ve been waiting for you to notice,” he remarks with a bored look.

“Notice what?” I spit out, scowling at him.

“Me,” he finishes plainly. Silence engulfs us again and I take note of how close we’ve become. “Why would you want that?” I question, utterly perplexed.

“What do you mean?” Anakin’s brows furrow.

“I mean you’ve never spoken to me before.”

“Neither have you.” He counters. My fists tremble.

“Why then? Why do you need me to notice you?” I demand.

“What other reason can there be?” He grumbles while giving me a once-over, and then something clicks. My face falls.

“Those looks you give me-”

“Say just how much I want you, more than words ever could.” He ends my sentence, his face remaining stoic. My heart hammers wildly. I suspect he’s now waiting for me to make a move, to say anything, maybe even reject him. Instead, I hastily circle my head around, surveilling for bystanders before frantically grasping at his robe and pushing him into a nearby room. His facade flatters once again and I see puzzlement consume his face.

After I awkwardly turn the door knob and take us into the empty room, I shove him away. Anakin staggers back, looking completely disoriented, almost regretful. “Y/n?” He trails off. My anger is radiating off my body, and I know he can feel it.

“You should’ve said something,” I assert, seething.

“I’m-“ Anakin is abruptly cut off by my lips smashing against his. With my arms reaching around his neck, I can feel his body freeze. After a short moment, I start to peel away, dejected by his stillness. But Anakin instantly chases after me, no longer shying away.

He gropes my waist, and one arm pulls around it, while the other slides up my spine to rest between my shoulder blades. A moan evades my throat and is met with a deep groan.

His palms carve out my figure and fist at my clothes. Whines rush out my mouth as his tongue mingles with mine. He vigorously makes work of me, and I have to pull away. Though his lips instinctively follow me, I’m out of reach, so he settles for my neck. Sucking fervently, one may fear the spots he’s making, but in this moment, truthfully, I couldn't care less.

“Ani,” I whimper, and he growls against my nape in response. “Fuck, I need you,” I whisper. I feel his movements lurch and he mumbles something, but I can't seem to hear it over my haggard breathing.

He tears himself away from my neck, still keeping my body pressed against his. He then shifts his gaze around the room. “There’s no furniture here, I’ll just have to fuck you standing.” An audible gasp flees my mouth as Anakin slings my body around his torso, legs straddling his hips. His hands clench around my thighs as he hoists me up, securing me in place.

Fortunately, the short gown I threw on this morning made it easy for Anakin's crotch to caress my core through his pants. I push down on him and he groans at our proximity. "I was wondering when you would snap," Anakin mutters into my ear as his grip tightens. I whimper. "Screw you."

"Be patient. You will." He soothes. Digging my front teeth into my bottom lip, I drop my forehead to his shoulder as our lower halves grind against one another.

The sounds of our moans crowd the room and I can't take it anymore. "Kriff patience, I'm done waiting, General," I command in the most sensual voice I can muster. Evidently, my attempt to provoke him works because one of his hands leaves my thigh and clutches my hair in a fist, tugging my head back so his lips can crash into mine again. His other hand shifts down to his slacks. His breath hitches when he releases his cock, and so does mine when it springs up to my clothed clit. "Oh maker," I just about scream, head falling back.

His hands make quick work moving my underwear aside, and his member brushes against my folds. I shudder and screw my eyelids shut. I feel Anakin's gaze fixate on me. "Look at me." Hearing his order, I immediately obey.

Eyes fluttering open, I look into his lust-filled ones. Getting flustered by their heat, I squirm. "Y/n." He hushes, breath blowing across my face. Glancing at his features briefly, I nod, communicating what we both desperately need.

We both hold our breaths as he brings me down on his length in a slow glide. His cock pierces my entrance, and I clamp down on my incoming yelp. He was big. I hear him distractedly repeat my name, face buried in my collar. My eyes look to the ceiling in prayer.

His movements dissipate midway, and I feel his stomach clench. "You take me so well." He mumbles almost to himself. All I can do is bob my head in response. In this short pause, the pain disperses and all I feel is him - pleasure, darkness. His arms snake around my waist while mine harden around his nape.

Suddenly, he plunges into me, filling me up completely. My cry echoes throughout the room and I instantly sink my teeth into the cartilage of his ear. The growl that leaves him is next to primal. His rhythmic pounding begins to pick up speed, and I can barely keep up with each stroke. "Kiss me," he stammers out. Reeling back, I lock eyes with him before diving my tongue into his mouth.

His hips snap into my own, over and over. His stomach clenches once more and he pants into my mouth, "I'm close." Though I feel incredible, I'm not quite close to my limit, and he senses it.

One of his palms unravels from my body, steadily hovering over my center. Thinking he's going to touch me, I arch my back away from his embrace to allow space for his digits to meet my slit. But, as I wait, an unexpected pressure attacks my core. I gasp away from his lips and I peer down, leaning my forehead on his.

His hand isn't physically touching me, yet I feel as though I'm close to climaxing. Bewildered, I shoot my eyes from his floating hand to his lewd expression. His grin is strangely smug as he watches me. Then it registers: he's using the force to make me cum. Completely stunned, I simply bore my eyes into him, mouth agape.

Our orgasms come at once and wash over us at his charge. He puffs out a loud sigh of relief and continues to hold me, pumping slower than before, til the action ceases.

"Maker," I huff, "Next time, just use your words, and I'm yours." A smile forms on his face. He sheepishly nods, "Next time."

#anakin skywalker #star wars #sw fanart #ahsoka tano #star wars smut #star wars clone wars #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars x y/n #star wars fanart #star wars fandom #anakin x reader #anakin smut #darth vader #darth vader smut #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x oc #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #smut #imagine #fanfic #obi wan kenobi #star wars art #star wars anakin

[ddejavvu]

a major obi-wan thought on my bedtime rotation is the idea of sparring with him like that scene from miss congeniality WOAHHH another would be the interrogation with reader being a potential spy idk maybe i just find interrogations sexy.. and u cant go wrong with the classic mean obi wan taming a brat reader whose perhaps his padawan or an unruly senator under his protection ELITEEE

if you want sparring with obi-wan, you can check out my fic betrayal, that was meant to be a quick and dirty 200 words and ended up being a 17K porn novel <3 i totally agree with you on the interrogation front, i swear with the way he holds eye contact with jango in aotc i'm surprised the guy's pants didn't drop of their own accord. all that to say i've chosen the senator plotline <3

this post is 18+, minors dni.

You're not entirely sure how the Force works, but you're willing to bet that it opened its big fat mouth and told your overzealous security guard that you were trying to escape. You made sure to be deadly silent, and you'd blocked the cameras set up to monitor your bedroom, so you know he hadn't seen or heard you. Nevertheless, he stands in your bedroom doorway looking very unimpressed by the one leg you've managed to weasel through your window.

"Tell me, Senator," He calls, voice purposefully casual, like you're not bisected by a pane of glass, "Are you trying to kill yourself so that no one else gets the chance?"

"I'm not going to die." You insist, moving further still out of the window, "I'm going to take a walk."

"How many stories up are we? Two hundred?" Master Kenobi asks, this time stepping forwards into your room. He approaches your window but doesn't grab you, merely staring down at the very long distance between you and the ground.

"One-hundred-and-eight." You grunt, your strength waning the more you hang from the ledge of your window. He notices the strain in your voice, but prolongs your suffering with a thoughtful nod.

"Yes, right. I think that's a wonderful coincidence, then, seeing as how that's the number of bones you're going to break if you fall."

"I'm not going to- fall-!" You gasp at the feeling of your foot slipping against the balcony below you, but you're actually thankful for the Force now that it fuels Obi-Wan's quick reflexes. He dives to catch you, and hauls you up by only one of his hands gripping your bicep. It hurts, but you suppose he was right; it would have hurt a lot more to fall.

You're set on your feet with the expression of a tooka caught shredding its owners bedspread, but Obi-Wan meets your surly pout with an unimpressed look of his own. You're safely on the floor of your apartment, but his hand remains curled around your upper arm.

"I didn't think I needed to specify to you that staying 'out of reach' of your assassins did not mean dangling above them like a strung-up target."

"I was going to take a walk in the city," You repeat, teeth gritted, "I was going to keep my hood up, and I was going to blend in with the crowd."

"An excellent plan, truly," Obi-Wan indulges you, "I'm sure the seasoned bounty hunters that are poised to shoot you on sight would have been fooled by a cloth draped over your hair."

"I'm going crazy in here! I have to get out, I have to do something!" You gush, attempting to tear your arm out of Obi-Wan's grip. He doesn't let go, though, and he muscles it back to your side with a fleeting glint of fury in his eyes that you hadn't thought a Jedi was capable of. He walks forwards, and by extension, you walk backwards until your knees hit the frame of your bed and you're pushed down onto the mattress.

"Senator," He starts, keeping his voice tightly wound as he now looms over you, "I have a duty to protect you, but you have a duty to your own life as well. And I will not see you risk it by hanging yourself off of a skyscraper for something as menial as a stroll in the city! If you'd like to walk, you may walk into the closet and get yourself changed into your nightclothes, because the only thing you'll be doing this late at night is sleeping."

"You're not my daddy," You sneer at the man, his audacity setting something in your chest aflame, "You can't tell me what to do. I'm not going to sleep."

"I find your impression of a petulant toddler truly amusing, Senator," Obi-Wan deflects your persistent attempts at boiling him over, "But as you have a hearing to attend tomorrow, I suggest you take my advice and turn in for the night."

You bite the inside of your cheek so hard you're surprised it doesn't split beneath your teeth. He's right. You have a hearing tomorrow, and you're really only protesting sleep because he's asking you to do it. Perhaps.. perhaps that is below your station.

"Go," Obi-Wan's eyes flicker towards your dark closet, "But I would like you to leave the door open, please."

"What?" You rear your head back indignantly, any succession you'd decided on now gone as you process his request, "I'm not letting you watch me change, you freak!"

"I assure you I will not be watching," Obi-Wan lets go of your bicep, leaving a stinging ring around your skin in his wake, "But should there be any climb-able windows or secret exits in your closet that I'm not yet aware of, I don't want to be slowed down by a lock in my attempts to rescue you from your own foolishness."

"You're crazy. I'm telling the Jedi Council about this." You vow, storming off to your closet and tucking yourself into the walk-in portion so that your bodyguard can't see you as you strip down.

"You're more than welcome to, Senator. I suggest, though, that you be truthful with them about your attempts to fall from the two-hundredth-story of this building, otherwise you're going to make me look rather perverted."

"It's the 108th floor!" You snap, any patience you'd possessed throughout your encounter with Kenobi flooding out of you. It heats your skin, blazes it warm, which is perhaps why you've forgotten you're no longer clothed when you whirl around to correct the man to his face.

You're standing in the doorway of your closet now, very angry and very naked. Master Kenobi's eyes stay politely locked on your own, but one of his eyebrows raises, and a corner of his lips twitch in a barely-concealed smirk.

"Senator, if I were you," He drawls, his gaze heavy upon you despite being fixed on only your eyes, "I wouldn't tell the Council that you're giving me a strip show."

#obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi smut #obi-wan kenobi fanfiction #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi-wan kenobi fluff #obi-wan kenobi oneshot #obi-wan kenobi one-shot #obi-wan kenobi one shot #obi-wan kenobi headcanon #obi-wan kenobi headcanons #obi-wan kenobi hcs #obi-wan kenobi hc #obi-wan kenobi fan fiction #obi-wan kenobi fanfic #obi-wan kenobi blurb #obi-wan kenobi drabble #obi-wan kenobi dialogue #obi-wan kenobi x y/n #obi-wan kenobi x you

[just-dreaming-marvel]

A Painful Secret

MAIN MASTERLIST

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,815ish

Summary: You have a secret chronic illness, unwilling to share the information out of fear. Obi-Wan knows you are hiding something.

Notes: This is based on my real life, so please be kind with the comments. (Obviously with some exaggeration.) I am a 4th grade teacher with Rheumatoid Arthritis and this week has been hell (because of students, parents, and my body).

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath as you tried to use the Force to push away your pain. You hated that meditation was doing nothing to ease any of your discomforts. With a sigh, you opened your eyes and glanced at the clock. You needed to get going to be down in the training rooms before your class of younglings got there. It took you a moment to gain your bearings before standing up. A whimper slipped through your lips as the moment hurt your aching joints even more. You knew that you should probably cancel your class or get another Jedi Master to sub, but that would be the third time in a week, and the Jedi Council—mainly one certain member—would be questioning you more than was already happening.

Only a few medical droids and two of the Jedi Healers knew of your illness. It was an illness of the joints and even with all the medicine in the Galaxy, there was no real treatment or cure for it. And, of course, it would only it worse with age. You had good days and bad days, right now though there seemed to be more bad days than good. You were known throughout the Jedi Order as a fighter, in actions and words, so giving in to this illness was not an option. Especially since you had the future of the Jedi Order relying on you.

As you walked through the Temple to reach the training room that was your classroom, you weren’t moving as fast as you like. You had your shields up around your Force signature to keep other Jedi from finding out your pain as you passed them. 

“Hello there, Master Y/N,” Obi-Wan Kenobi greeted as he came to walk beside you.

You pressed out a smile. “Hello, Master Obi-Wan,” you responded. “How are you doing today? Anakin cause you any trouble today?”

“Not yet,” he chuckled lightly. “I am good. I have been worried about how you have been, though.”

“Oh?”

“You have canceled classes twice this week. And your guards are up more often than not. It is unlike you.”

“I am fine, Obi-Wan.” The look in his eye made it clear he wasn’t believing you. “I promise.”

“Y/N,” he sighed, gently touching your arm as a signal to stop with him. You did. “We’ve known each other since we were younglings. I know when you are keeping something from me. You have been for a while and I have let you, allowing you to deal with whatever it is on your own time. But now you are missing your teaching assignment and your guards are up and you are holding yourself as if you are in constant pain. Y/N, I am begging you, tell me what is wrong. I just want to help.”

For a brief moment, you thought you might tell Obi-Wan. He could help you, and support you on your bad days. Then your mind got the better of you. Your thoughts quickly spiraling. What if he sees you as weak? What if he tells the Council and you are banned from helping with the war effort? Banned from teaching your younglings? Or worse, thrown from the Order because of it?

“I’m fine, Obi-Wan,” you lied, trying to convince him with a smile. “I do need to go. I am going to be late.”

You rushed off, ignoring your joints screaming in pain as you headed for your training room. You sighed in relief once you were there and it was clear that Obi-Wan hadn’t followed you. Though your body needed a moment's rest, you needed to set up the room for your lesson. 

~~~

Obi-Wan watched with concern as you rushed away from him. He could tell that you were in pain, just by the way your body was moving. For months, Obi-Wan had been able to sense that you had been keeping something from him. It pained him to know that you felt the need to do so, as the two of you had always confided in each other since your days as younglings. The two of you had always sought each other out when you needed, but for some reason this was different. If you were in pain—if you were sick—he believed he had the right to know. You going through anything alone wasn’t an option for him.

Obi-Wan knew that you were a fighter, it was one of the reasons he fell in love with you. His love was the secret he was keeping from you—wisely, he believed. You were a strong and wise Jedi, someone many looked up to. Every youngling you taught ended up loving you, though you were strict and yet fun. You knew the importance of hard work though had a balance of play as well. Another reason Obi-Wan loved you. 

You were a Jedi that was looked upon with great pride and even envy. Obi-Wan believed that you would never break the Code for him. That is why he was content to just be your friend—close friend, albeit—but a friend nonetheless. So this secret you were keeping from him was not sitting well with him. Not at all. 

Once he was sure you were in the training room, readying it to teach your younglings a lesson, Obi-Wan went in search of his former Padawan. You and Anakin had bonded as Obi-Wan trained the boy. You were more of a mother figure to Anakin and the two of you could be found together often when you were both free. Obi-Wan found Anakin talking to Ahsoka in the hangar as the two of them looked over one of Anakin’s ships.

“Master Kenobi!” Ahsoka greeted.

“Hello, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan responded with a nod. He turned to her Master. “Anakin.”

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin said with a smile as he wiped some oil off of his hands. “What brings you down here?”

“It’s about Y/N.”

Anakin immediately straightened with worry. “What is it? Is she okay? What’s wrong?”

“I am afraid I don’t know. I was hoping you did. Have you noticed anything different about her lately?”

Anakin took a few seconds to think over Obi-Wan’s question before responding. “Well, Y/N hasn’t been willing to spare with me like she used to. She always comes up with excuses.”

“She does the same with me,” Ahsoka added. You had taken her under your wing as soon as she became Anakin’s Padawan. You knew she needed a strong female influence in her life. “Now that I think of it, I haven’t spared with her in months.”

“Same. I have also noticed that sometimes when I touch her, she winces or tenses.” Obi-Wan nodded, having noticed the same things himself. “Do you think she’s sick?”

“I do not know,” Obi-Wan replied honestly.

“Have you tried looking up her medical records?” Ahsoka suggested. “You are a member of the Jedi Council, you do have access to them.”

“I could not break her trust like that.”

“Yet, you could ask us if we knew anything?” Anakin asked, in a slightly teasing tone.

“This is different, Anakin.” Obi-Wan sighed, running a hand down his face. His hand stopped, stroking his beard. “I am worried.”

“I’m sure Snips doesn’t mind trying to pry information out of her with me.”

“No, no,” Obi-Wan shook his head, “there’s no need for that. I will figure this out on my own.”

~~~

Teaching had worn you out. There were a few younglings that were still struggling with the ways of the Jedi Order and decided to wreak havoc today. The actions of the younglings forced you to stop your lessons and call in another Master to help you deal with the problem. Once the problem had been dealt it, you were not feeling up to teaching anymore and it was getting late anyway. You let your younglings go, telling them to meet at the same time and place the next day, before slowly making the trek up to your room.

Every joint in your body was screaming at you and begging for you to just lay down in the middle of the Temple corridors. When you reached the hallway where your room resided, you were practically using the wall to stand.

“Y/N?” Obi-Wan called, coming up from behind.

“Kriff,” you muttered under your breath.

Before you knew it, the man was at your side. “Are you alright? You don’t look so well.”

“I’m fine, Obi-Wan. Just tired. It was a long day of teaching.”

“Are you sure? You seem to be barely able to—“

“I just need rest. I’ll be fine in the morning.” You went to continue to your room but Obi-Wan moved to stand firmly in front of you.

“I do not believe you. Something is wrong. Why aren’t you willing to tell me what it is?”

“I’m not—“

“Stop lying to me. We’ve known each other for the majority of our lives. I know when you are keeping a secret from me.”

You bit your bottom lip briefly as you tried to reign in your quickly overwhelming emotions. “I’m handling it.”

“You don’t have to handle it on your own though. I’m here… or there’s Anakin and Ahsoka. Just, please, talk to someone—if not me—about what you are going through. I am worried, and I know that I am not the only one. Please, Y/N—“ He went to take your hand but you flinched away like he had hurt you. His eyes grew sadder if that was even possible. “Did someone hurt you?”

“No,” you shook your head, immediately regretting the movement.

“Because if someone hurt you, I will not stand for it. Tell me who—“

“No one hurt me, Obi-Wan. It’s not that.”

“Then are you…” He paused, swallowing. “My dear, are you sick?” 

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “Please, Obi-Wan, drop it.”

“Not when you are clearly struggling. Let me help you.”

“You can’t.” You finally looked at him with watery eyes. “No one can.”

Then, while Obi-Wan processed what you had said, you hurried to your room. The door slid shut behind you before you quickly locked it and leaned back against it. You began to cry as you slid down to the floor. Obi-Wan had pulled himself from his thoughts too late but had moved to stand at your closed door. He could hear your muffled cries behind the door and longed to hold you and help you. But Obi-Wan knew that he truly could not help you if you would not let him in—to both your room and the secret.

~~~

You woke up in the morning, having fallen asleep on the floor near your door. The position did not help your pain, only worsening it. You whimpered as you shakily tried standing. You were forced to use the door as a steady place to lean on as you slowly stood up straight. Breathing heavily, you leaned against the door with your eyes closed. You tried to use the Force to help control your pain as the Healers had taught you, but your brain was too scattered to focus properly.

It took you too long to get yourself to the refresher, then even longer to actually freshen up for the day. You tried to control your pain and trembling as you made your way down to the training room, where your younglings were already waiting. As you started your lesson, you could tell that the younglings were concerned about you. Your speech was slow, your body was shaking, and your face kept contorting in pain with even the slightest movement.

After about an hour and a half of teaching, your heart felt like it could beat out of your chest. Your hand came up to brace yourself against the column as black spots started in your vision.

“Master Y/N!” A youngling exclaimed. “Are you alright?”

“Jaki,” you breathlessly panted, “go get Master Kenobi… now please.” 

The youngling, Jaki, rushed out of the training room just as you had fainted.

~~~

Obi-Wan was dressed in his armor as he listened to the latest briefing about the war. He and Anakin were the only ones physically in the war room while a few of the Jedi Council joined via hologram. Obi-Wan had his hand on his beard as he tried to listen to what his fellow Council members were saying, but his thoughts kept coming back to you. He was broken out of his trace when the war room door slid open and a youngling rushed in.

“Master Kenobi! Master Kenobi!” The youngling shouted. Anakin and Obi-Wan spun around to face the youngling at the frantic tone of their voice.

“Jaki?” Obi-Wan questioned, recognizing the youngling as one of yours. “What is the matter?”

“It’s Master Y/N! There’s something wrong!”

The youngling didn’t get to say anything else before Obi-Wan was running out of the room and down the halls toward where he knew you to be. When he arrived in the training room, your other younglings were surrounding you, trying to wake you. Obi-Wan was quickly at your side.

“What happened?” He asked the younglings, eyes never leaving you for a second.

“We don’t know,” a youngling responded. “Master Y/N seemed to be in pain all day and then all of a sudden she told Jaki to get you and she collapsed. We haven’t been able to wake her.”

“Master Kenobi,” another youngling called. “Will she be alright?”

Oh, how Obi-Wan wished he could answer the youngling’s question. But he didn't know the answer himself. While he knelt beside you, not knowing what to do, Anakin arrived with Jaki.

“What’s happening?” Anakin asked as he came over. “What’s wrong?”

“I—I don’t know,” Obi-Wan stammered.

Anakin could tell how worried and frazzled his Master was becoming. “Obi-Wan, we need to get her to the Healers.”

“Right,” Obi-Wan gave a single nod before his arms went under you. He lifted you into his chest as he stood.

“I’ll take care of the younglings and join you when I can.” 

At any other moment, Obi-Wan would have teased Anakin for saying that he’d stay with the younglings, but you were currently laying unconscious in his arms for some unknown reason. Obi-Wan barely muttered a thank you before racing out of the room and toward medical. Once he had arrived, everything quickly became a blur. 

Despite his protests, you were ripped from Obi-Wan’s arms and taken away by the Healers. He had tried to follow after you but was stopped by a few Healers and medical droids. Though he could easily get through them, he heard the doors lock that would allow him into the room you were in and he knew it was pointless. He needed to let the Healers and droids do their jobs without getting in the way, no matter how much it pained him.

Obi-Wan found a seat near the doors, though he never sat down for too long. He found himself pacing, which is exactly what he was doing when Anakin and Ahsoka joined him after dealing with the younglings.

“Any news?” Ahsoka asked though she knew the answer already by how Obi-Wan was acting.

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Nothing,” he answered quietly. “They haven’t been out of the room at all.”

“She’ll be fine,” Anakin said, more for his own comfort than anything. “She’s a fighter.”

Obi-Wan stayed silent, though nodding along to Anakin’s words. He was fearing the worst. That maybe you wouldn’t survive. Obi-Wan didn’t know what he would do if that was the case. He had lived with you by his side for so long, that knowing anything different seemed next to impossible.

~~~

It was too long for anyone’s liking before a Healer had exited the room they had rushed you into. Anakin, Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan were quickly standing and giving the Healer their full attention.

“How is she?” Obi-Wan asked nervously. He hadn’t felt your loss in the Force, but that didn’t mean you were okay.

“Master Y/N will survive,” the Healer answered. The choice of words was unsettling to the group. “Master Kenobi, as a member of the Jedi Council, may I speak to you alone?”

Obi-Wan glanced at Anakin and Ahsoka. Ahsoka nodded, having to drag Anakin out so that Obi-Wan and the Healer were alone.

“Master Kenobi, I want to be clear that when Master Y/N was first diagnosed that she specifically asked for her condition to be kept a secret, despite our advice,” the Healer carefully stated. “Now though, as the Healer over her, I feel the need to tell you what is going on with your friend.”

“What diagnosis?” Obi-Wan questioned.

The Healer sighed. “It was almost eight months ago when Master Y/N arrived feeling pain in various joints. We gave her something for it and sent her on her way, thinking that it would simply go away with time. A few weeks later, she was back in here with worse pain than before and in even more joints. After running more tests, it was determined that Y/N has a rare joint disease. It is not something we know a lot about. There is no real cure or treatment for it.”

“Will she—“ Obi-Wan had to stop himself from finishing his thought for a moment. “Will this kill her?”

“It might, eventually.” Obi-Wan took a deep inhale as his hand went up to cover his mouth. “But we will cross that bridge when it nears.”

“What happened today?”

“Y/N’s body couldn’t handle the pain and decided it needed to do something about it. This is the first time this has happened, and I wouldn’t be shocked if it’s not the last.”

“There has to be something—anything you can do for her.”

“We are doing our best to find a treatment. Y/N has been taught ways to handle the pain by using the Force. We do understand that it is not a long-term solution or that it might not work every time, but it’s what we can do right now.” Obi-Wan shook his head. “I know that you believe it is not enough, trust me, I agree. Y/N is a fighter though, I know she won’t give up.”

“That’s part of my fear,” Obi-Wan mumbled.

“When Y/N wakes, I will tell her that I told you and that the Jedi Council will be informed of her condition. I recommend that she stay out of anything that has to do with the war efforts. She may continue to teach, but staying close to the Temple would be the best option for her.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I agree… may I stay beside her until she wakes?”

“Unfortunately, the droids are doing one last round of some pain remedy and no one else is allowed in there while they work. I will get you as soon as you can come in.”

~~~

You were frustrated—mainly at your body—when you woke. The Healer over your case informed you about what had happened and the steps you needed to take going forward. You were unhappy about Obi-Wan and the Council knowing, more so that you couldn’t tell them yourself, but you understood the need for it. You were still in pain and exhausted when Obi-Wan was allowed to enter the room. Despite his stern expression, you knew that you had worried him. His expression was only because you hadn’t told him about your condition.

“How are you feeling?” Obi-Wan asked, keeping his distance from you.

“Exhausted…” you responded honestly. “In pain.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “You should have told me. The moment you found out, you should have come to me.”

“I know.”

“I thought that we were closer than this.”

“We are.”

“Then why keep this from me? This is not some childish secret, this is your life we’re talking about. Your health!”

Tears formed in your eyes. “I know, Obi-Wan. And I am sorry. Though I know that there are not enough apologies in the world to make up for what I did, please just listen to me… I was scared. Scared that the Council would kick me out of the Order. Scared of what this disease would do to me and my ability to be a Jedi… But I was more scared that this would change your opinion of me.”

“Do you really think that little of me?”

“No… I think the world of you… that’s the problem.”

Slowly, Obi-Wan came up to stand beside your bed, closer to your feet than you would like.

“You mean the world to me,” Obi-Wan whispered. “I have been so worried and then when Jaki came rushing in saying something was wrong I— I thought the worse and then to see you laying there… it had all became a reality.”

“I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan,” you said quietly and tearfully. “I really am.”

“I can’t do that again.” 

Your heart dropped. This was it. He was ending your friendship because of your disease. The great Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t handle you.

“I can’t do the fear of the unknown like that again,” Obi-Wan continued. “And I can’t stand by and watch you suffer.”

“I… I understand,” you whispered.

“No, I don’t believe you do. What I am saying is that I can’t handle the secrecy. I need to know when you are in pain. I need to know what’s going on with you and how I can help you. I know that this will be a long and painful and unknown road, but I will not allow you to go through it on your own. Not anymore.”

“Obi-Wan—“

“I love you, Y/N. And I know it is against the code, but I feel that you need to know that.”

“Oh, my…”

“I understand if you cannot reciprocate it. I can handle it and it will not stop me from helping you through this.”

“Obi-Wan,” your hand gently took his, “I love you, too. I have for a long time.”

He broke out into a smile. “Really?”

“Really.” You copied his smile.

Obi-Wan leaned down and kissed you gently, careful as to not touch you much due to your pain. When you parted, he sat facing you on the bed.

“No more secrets,” he told you. “That’s an order.”

“Yes, General,” you teased. “Whatever you say.”

#obi wan x reader #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan kenobi imagine #obi wan kenobi fanfiction #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi x y/n #obi wan x you #obi wan x y/n #obi wan imagine #Obi-wan Kenobi X Reader #obi-wan kenobi x y/n #obi-wan kenobi x you #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi-wan x you #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan x y/n #obi-wan imagine #Star Wars x reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars imagines

[demigoddessqueens]

You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you

#tvedit #filmedit #disney #star wars #star wars x reader #anakin skywalker #obi wan x y/n #obi wan x you #obi wan x reader #anakin x fem reader #anakin x reader #anakin x you #anakin x y/n #hayden christensen #ewan mcgregor #obi wan kenobi #kenobi show #do not tag as obi*in!! #revenge of the sith #darth vader #darth vader x reader #the clone wars #star wars rebels #do not tag as obi x a*akin #star wars prequels #if I see obi*in in the url I’m blocking #sith lord #Jedi #don’t even ship em irl either that’s weird nasty AF #anidala anakin x padme

[phoeebsbuffay]

Imagine: you are a younger sister to Duchess Satine. You are just as bright as she is, possessing a quick wit and fierce mind. However, you are often overshadowed by Satine’s accomplishments. The two of you were once very close, and in these good days you were her biggest support. However, something happened and you joined the rebels who sought to undermine the Senate. Satine is desperated to get you back, but because she’s the rulling Duchess of Mandalore, she can’t go after you. That is when she asks Obi-Wan for help, aware of how not so long ago the two of you were so close. Yet, the question remains unspoken in the minds of the Mandalorian: whatever happened to the bright young sister to the peaceful duchess Satine?

Warnings 1: the younger sister of Satine is not the one we see in “The Clone Wars”. In fact, let’s pretend she never existed even though this original character is loosely based on her. Also, it’s with this oc Obi-Wan has been infatuated and not Satine.

Warnings 2: this story might find it’s inspiration in Ed Sheeran’s “Bad Habits”.

Warnings 3: this is how I roll, people: smut, violence and drama are the elements that shape my writing. And of course there’ll be fluffiness because I honestly hate how “SW” always makes Obi-Wan unhappy in many ways. Therefore, minors, do not read nor interact.

You have been warned…

***

Intro.

Dark clouds rumble in the skies of Mandalore. In a clear presage of an upcoming thunder storm, every citizen of the great capital looks for solace under their roof. To most superstitious people, this is a sign of bad times ahead.

Satine, in her palace, is perhaps one of those who share this belief. Looking through the window glass, she watches as the light dissipates, eclipsed by darker clouds that announce a thunderstorm. Rain does not take too long to fall, and her eyes stare at the spectacle of the violent drops of cold water throughout the capital.

“What is it your ladyship thinking about?” Her adviser steps closer to her, carefully keeping a safe distance. There is genuine concern in his question, it is only fair she answers him back, though her eyes remain fixed on the storm outside.

“She disappeared, master. No one finds her, not even our best detective.” Her heart breaks, but she has to be strong despite the vulnerability she feels exposed to. “I don’t know what else to do. There is good in her, I know that.”

“Madam, please forgive my bluntness. But your sister deliberately chose the dark path. You have to be in terms with it, that you did all you could and…”

Satine turned at him, eyes filled not with anger but a deep shade of despair.

“She had not! She was forced into it, I know in my heart! And whilst you may be prepared to let her go, my lord, I am not! She’s my only family.” The fangs of guilt are pressed upon her heart. “I know someone who might find her. I know who.”

It takes no more than two days before General Kenobi lands in Mandalore. He may be self composed, wearing a mask of duty, but his Padawan is the only one who could tell he’s been under distress after the news of your rebellion came to his knowledge. Against Obi-Wan’s strong refusal in having him by his side, though, Anakin is seen by his master’s side wishing to be helpful, but there to console his heart.

Satine welcomes the two Jedi as regal as she is. Formalities are often the necessary requirement to deal with ambassadors or other politics who landed in Mandalore. But all smiles fade when the three of them are in private quarters, away from the court.

“I wish I had not involved you in this, Obi-Wan”, Satine tells him distressed. “But no one, not even my best men, could find her. She took a path I could not follow! How could I have abandoned her to this? How could this crown that is on my head costed my family?”

Satine is about to sob, but she surprises the men present in the room by holding back her tears. Anakin notices that the pain in her eyes mirror the ones he saw in Obi-Wan when he was told about what you’d done. Perhaps, he thinks to himself, it was even more miserable. Whatever had happened between the two of you, it’s costing Obi-Wan’s peace of mind. Anakin never thought he’d see his master so broken inside. So hurt. So desolated.

Yet he’s playing the strong figure. Because Satine needs it. Because he too cannot fall apart.

“I will rescue Y/N, Satine. You did well in contact me. It’s for the best interest of the Galaxy that she does not fall to the Sith’s hands.”

Only Anakin sees the shivers that goes up to his master’s spine and shake his shoulders. Poor man, he thinks. He must’ve loved her so to be so miserable inside.

It’s when he prepares to leave but Obi-Wan prevents him to follow.

“Anakin, I need you stay. Make Satine company and wait for my orders.”

His voice is firm and Anakin knows there’s no chance to argue with him. Yet the Jedi Knight decides to try.

“But you cannot go alone, Master. Maker knows what you will find…”

Obi-Wan softens before his Padawan’s concern. There is so much he could tell Anakin about all of this, how you mean so much to him. But there’s no time. He places a hand over Anakin’s shoulder and gives a gentle press. A soft, but sad smile is on his lips when he says:

“No. I appreciate your good will, Anakin, but I need to resolve this on my own.”

Defeated, he says:

“Well. May the Force be with you, Master”.

Anakin does not tell Obi-Wan, but he has a bad feeling about this.

***

Your POV.

Every bad habit you dwell on it so you make yourself believe that you are free of the chains of Mandalore’s politics and the constant suffering you were once submitted to, fail its purpose when it leads you to Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The memories you share together when you were both adolescents are too much for you to bear. In the presente, you are nowhere to be found, waiting for the next assignment. You have successfully created your own reputation in the Galaxy, forging to yourself a new identity as boutyhunter.

Yet, it’s by the title “Dark Jedi” you are associated to. Despite the part you took in rebelling against Mandalore—in an act that was not aimed against your sister’s rule, but rather to the politicians who broke the goodness in you by trying to punish your liberty, attempting to cage your free spirits until you realized you were nothing but their pawn to try to replace Satine on the throne. You tried to tell her about this plot, but when she refused to hear, you had enough. No one listened to you. But the terrorists who were relocated to the Moon of Mandalore did.

But what does it matter to dwell in the past? Yet the shadow of what was done keeps going back to your mind.

My conscience reprehends me for the choices that brought me into this nothingness.

You are reminded of Obi-Wan. The moments spent together when he trained you in the arts of the Jedis because you have the Force. You close your eyes at the memory. Why must your bad habits lead to him?

Darkness invites you to the forgetfulness. It seems to claim you, you feel it’s tentacles surround your brain and your heart as if you were a fragile prey. Perhaps you had always been one. Where’s your strength now? Where’s your fierceness? You could hear your dark side mocking you.

You close your eyes. You let your dark side come, though uninvited, unwelcome, because you are suffering. Even more so when you remember that particular day.

You were at the gardens dressed in yellow-ish gown with your hair loose, much to the dismay of your sister, who never ceased to remind you about the etiquette of court. But you’d always snap back at her by reminding her that whilst you were the Duchess’s sister, you remained unmarried and until otherwise you were permitted to have your hair down.

There was also another reason for why you preferred to let your auburn hair fall loose to your back: you knew Obi-Wan liked the view. He’d never say it, but you captured him looking at you more than once. There were other moments too, where his fingers lingered in your curls as he taught you, ever so close to you, about meditating. Even to this day you sensed his smell. One of the kind you’ve taken a particular like.

Though you were desired by the men at your sister’s court, Obi-Wan was the reason why you put some effort to embellish yourself. Maids and other men at your sister’s council would accuse you of vanity, but what did they know about the matters of heart?

You wanted to impress him. That day, you’d show him that. Obi-Wan smiled wide when he saw you. You felt yourself blushing when his eyes stared at you, like you were the damsel who was beautifully dressed to meet her knight.

“My lady Y/N”, he’d take your hand and there press a gentle kiss, his lips brushing so lightly against your skin as his eyes held yours in a long gaze. Your heartbeat reached your ears and most certainly his as well. He knew. And you knew he knew. “You look lovely today, although I’m afraid I can’t see how you’d be able to train with a lightsaber in your dress.”

You giggled, feeling so pure as you delighted in the innocent flirtatious upon which you both engaged yourselves. As Obi-Wan led you outdoors, discreet like a lover, you’d say:

“You underestimate my power, Obi-Wan Kenobi”, you smirked at him. “You’ll see that I am capable to let the Force flow even dressed accordingly to the manners of court.”

You could see your delicate manners entertained him because where you were soft and every inch a damsel, you’d never ceased to surprised him whenever you had a lightsaber in your hand.

Back then, Obi-Wan was not a Master yet. Those days were easier for you both. His Master was away and the Jedi was a Padawan who was much more sentimental, prompted to a certain recklessness which in due time would disappear, replaced by his sense of duty. So he was as involved with you as you were with him.

Away from the public sight, the two of you were engaging in the practice of lightsaber. You proved him how easily you mastered the Force there was in you.

“How on Maker’s name you were never sent to be part of the Order?” Obi-Wan inquired. He was mostly impressed by how the long gown you wore did not stop you for being fast in pairing his moves. “You should be there, not here.”

You laughed. “I wish! But my sister has plans for me, as our parents had, whatever these might be.”

“You are stronger than many Jedis I know”, he said, before discovering flattery was your flaw because you got distracted and he pulled you against him. You were defeated. “However, much to train you have, my dear Y/N.”

You remember that you pushed him to the grass. The two of you rolled on top of each other for a while, the surroundings of you filled with the sounds of laughters. It was when he pulled you right underneath himm. And he saw all the sentiment that came from you. He did not think. He kissed you. And you gasped, never before so happy.

You open your eyes. The memory brings a tear out of your eyes. But you have to quickly conceal your feelings again because someone was looking for the Dark Jedi.

You put a dark cape over your shoulders and hide yourself under a long hood in order to dissimulate your presence. It is when you meet Assaj Ventress.

“I don’t care who you are or once were”, the woman in strange clothes is direct in her treat with you. “I require your services. I hear you are a powerful Jedi who nonetheless often flirts with the dark side. Perhaps you are the one I need for what needs to be done.”

You fold your arms, neither denying nor affirming what you hear.

“What is the service you request of me? You need to pay me first otherwise there’s no deal.”

The Ventress, once associated to Dooku and the Dark Forces, gives you a considerable amount of gold.

“You have to destroy Count Dooku.” She gives away just like that. “Can you do that?”

You furrow your eyebrows. The amount of gold is more than you ever received in your life, but was it worth meddling in the conflict that was part of the Jedis? You don’t acknowledge yourself as Jedi, if yet you ever were one.

The Ventress is impatient, but you need to consider the advantages of the proposal. Usually you stayed away from these conflicts. But you require more information. She then tells you about General Grievous.

“Him I can deal”, you tell her. “But not Dooku. These affairs are not mine to conduct. Not anymore. I have no desire to be associated with the Republic, the Separatists or…” you whisper dangerously. “…the Jedis and their Siths. For a long time I’ve removed myself off their own conflicts.”

There is a subtle menace in your words and the Ventress realizes that this might be as far as she might get from you. You have some unfinished business with Grievous, this you make clear. You can also tell that the Ventress is planning to manipulate this fact to her favor, and it is when you surprise your client by almost suffocating her.

“It is what I say or nothing. I will not tolerate to serve your dirty purposes. Do you understand me?”

She gasps, struggling against your force. It is not until she eventually aquiesces that you let go of her. You don’t return the gold. You turn your back to her and go silently to where your ship is. It’s time for another job. It’s time to get your revenge done.

***

Obi-Wan Kenobi’s POV.

He somehow senses you are not that far as his ride takes him to the planet Y/C, aware that in this region is where he feels your presence. He does not wonder how you fell, neither your reasons for such.

In fact, as he remembers the last time he saw you when he was forced to say goodbye to you, he questions himself. If was not for the sadness in your eyes, by how people around you wanted to turn you into somebody else, perhaps he’d never know.

Obi-Wan feels his heart break. He could have taken you with him to the Order, he could have insisted the Council to make you Jedi. He could have prevented your fall.

As he disguises himself, Obi-Wan walks discreetly to that region, certain you are there. The bond between you remain strong after all those years and the Force is taking him to you. Is he prepared to meet you after the day he left you to your luck?

Guilt continues to pursue the dominance of his conscience as Obi-Wan remembers the day he told you his feelings to you.

You had been left at the palace whilst court followed Satine to her State courtship, and Obi-Wan stayed to be with you. The two of you were alone and however hard he tried to mask his attraction for you, he could not whenever you smiled at him. Seeing you so free of the royal protocols was a sight to behold. You seemed genuinely happy as you danced with your maids, your eyes looking for his.

He wanted more of you. The vows he was about to profess as Jedi meant little when you came to his way. You supped together that evening and talked about many things, tastes in common that had united you in a deep affection. Earlier that day, you teased him again by practicing with the lightsaber wearing the gown he favored. How would you know that? He was puzzled by how easily you read him.

There was, however, some tension as he led you to your quarters. Obi-Wan wanted to profess his feelings to you, but he did not have neither the opportunity to tell you nor the courage to be so open about it. But there you were, and Obi-Wan saw how you were waiting for his move. This move that never seemed to concretize. The look in his eyes that you saw many times before.

It was unlike him to be so carefree, so he surprised you by pressing his lips against yours. Luckily for the both of you, the corridors were empty.

“Obi-Wan…” you pleasantly sighed. “What took you so long?”

“I do not know, my dear Y/N.” He told you, sounding exasperated to his ears.

He did not know he was hungry for you, desperately in need of your affections. You kissed him, but this time he was brought to the inside of your bedchambers.

The two of you giggled as you did not know what to do. The kiss at first was sloppy, messy, but finally it brought the fire that danced in each of your hearts. Obi-Wan could not escape himself, his needs for you ached too much before he subdued them to reason. You took the opportunity. Moved by some strange instinct, you kissed his lips, his neck, giving gentle bites into his skin as your hands slide to his pants.

Obi-Wan heavily sighed, trying to do the same to you, his hands removing your gown, somewhat disastrous as he undid your corset. The two of you giggled at it.

“How can we be less disastrous, uh?” The Jedi chuckled as he apologized for the lack of experience. Yet the look in your eyes made him mewl on the inside. What a divine creature you were to behold.

“Well that makes us both”, you chuckled in return.

He carried you then to your bed. There was no time to rush, so both of you took the opportunity to get to know each other carnally. You were the one to get the initiative. Obi-Wan remembered how he was paralyzed once you kissed his neck and moved your hand to stroke his hard cock. He could not help to sigh out loud. There were moments he thought of you that way but he was always careful to suppress his desires.

But there you were, caressing his manhood, erect in your delicate hands, pulsing against your palms. The Jedi was aroused when he saw the surprise in your eyes giving place to something more…what word could best summarize what were you feeling? Lust? But this was beyond lust. It might had been a discovery for you both. Yet you were enjoying so much.

“How does it feel?”, you inquired, looking for his approval. Obi-Wan let out a groan in response, but he could not speak, which got you puzzled and confused.

He took your hands to his erect member again, asking silently for you to repeat the moves you were doing before. The pleasure was so evident in his face that you finally understood that he was enjoying.

It was when you were about to get your knees when he prevented you from doing. To appease the confused look in your eyes, he kissed your lips rather hungrily and laid you down. Obi-Wan crawled over you, leaving traces of kiss all around you. His eyes admired your curves and he wanted to please you as you pleased him. He took each breast into his lips, devouring you as he almost instinctively inserted a finger in your womanhood. All the while he did that he was attentive at your reactions. Obi-Wan enjoyed how much you gave yourself to him, how your body was restless underneath his touch. He was set alight just by tasting you and seeing you reciprocated his desires.

You eventually pulled him to you, and it was where the mess finally began. Your kiss was intoxicated and there were no vows that remained intact before love. Yes, the Jedi loved you. He was eager, anxious to show you how much he adored you, how much he was devoted to you.

“I love you”, you were the first to say. It was right when he adjusted his hips and prepares to thrust into you. That was a particular awkward moment for Obi-Wan. He felt so clumsy doing so, but your patience would reward him for that. And when he did, these words escaped you and forced him to contemplate you. As a woman. As the one who captured his heart and break his vows. “I love you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. I’ve always loved you, and I always will.”

These are the words that echo in the back of Obi-Wan’s mind as he makes his way through the dark. He feels desolated yet again, eyes going teary. You were so devoted to him, and he paid that devotion to abandonment.

Duty is the death of love, after all.

He is briefly distracted from the memories of better days when he spots a ship. A silver ship. And somebody wearing a dark silver cape. There is little need to hear the steps closer. He knows it’s you.

To his disappointment, if yet this is how he should name his desperation for letting you slip through his fingertips, you sense his presence too, but this makes you move faster. Before the Jedi reaches for you, you are gone.

Obi-Wan feels his knees fail him and he drops on the sand. Atonement is the word that best define him now. But he refuses to let you go. Again.

***

Your POV.

The moment you knew he was there was when your dark side took the best of you. You ran from him when your heart pounded against your chest. But you carefully remember yourself he’s the enemy now. The two of you are lovers no more.

The disturbance in the force tempts you again. You are, in fact, conflicted once more. You cannot deny that every part of your body aches for him, even now. As you pilot your ship to the inevitable encounter with the General Grievous, your mind tracks back the moments spent next to Obi-Wan as much as you wish you could suppress of your being. Seeing him desolated upon your depart, however, resulted in a deeply troubled conscience that only fond remembrances could appease.

The next time you met him after he deflowered you—or better yet you deflowered each other, willingly and in a mutual commitment to the desires that ruled over your hearts—you are moved by a fire that only he could control. Excusing yourself to your Jedi duties, you in fact trapped him right where no one bothered to make sure that training was the only thing the two of you were doing.

“I need you”, you begged him as he kissed you hungrily. “Please, Ben.”

You didn’t even have to ask. He pressed you against the tree, kissing your lips fervently; his hands lifting your legs and, much to your delight, leaving the path to the entrance of his fingers into you.

“Silently, my lady” he teased you, though Obi-Wan was often aroused by how the two of you locked gazes in such intimate moment.

You loved it when he did it slow, evoking inner desperation out of you, as if he owned your pleasurable moments that you two shared together, which was true. He saw how you subdued to him so easily. And you enjoyed him watching as he ruined you. Obi-Wan did not take so long to replace his fingers with something else. That day you didn’t know how bold he was about to become to you.

The Jedi hid underneath your gown as he began pleasuring you with his mouth.

Oh Maker! You silently gasped, actually using the Force not to yell out loud. Your legs trembled, a wave shook your legs and before you knew it, you’d rode the man’s face.

You had not yet recovered when he came to surface and pressed his erected manhood into you.

“My, my. What have I done to you?”, you whispered mischievously as he kissed your neck again, going down to your breasts.

Whatever happened to slow paces that day definitely did not request it. But even after that, the ever romantic Obi-Wan took you to his arms and the two of you watched the sunset together.

“I love you”, he whispered against your ears. “Never forget that.”

And you still don’t. To your horror, he’s occupying your mind again. But there’s little time as you had business to do.

Grievous was waiting for you, of course. You don’t exactly land in surprise there. In fact, it is almost as if you are doing that on purpose. To be seen. To be caught.

You don’t have difficulties when it came to deal with these droids. Although mentally exhausted because of the conflict that never ceases to battle your conscience and heart, you played the role perfectly well.

Dark Jedi.

You scoff upon the title your clients gave you. Because you have a conscience, because you behave honorably at times, but because you flirted with the dark side and remained a rebel at heart.

You take your white lightsaber to battle the enemy was responsible for turning the Mandalorians against you.

“You thought I would be the puppet for your purposes, didn’t you Grievous?”, your despise is like a poison.

The robotic Sith laughs at you.

“You were an insignificant loss to the plans of my master, but that means nothing now.”

He takes his sabers. The dance of death begins.

“Dark Jedi, eh? Is that how you attend by now?”

You don’t give in to his conversation, rather concentrated in resisting his blows. For a robot, Grievous proves to be a difficult opponent.

Fed by revenge, you are willing to destroy. Darkness disturbs the Force again when you make it useful for your own purposes.

“You’d have been a great Sith if you were doted of brains”, Grievous said.

Some part of you wanted to give up. Was there any reason to live? What’s the worth of you vengeance? Satine chose her side, she’d not hear you when you presented your claims. Somehow, you turned out abandoned by all those you love.

Pain.

Turns to hatred.

It leads to the inevitable…

…suffering.

“You will not destroy me!”

“You underestimate my power!” A phrase you famously quoted to Obi-Wan years ago is now spitted venomously.

You clash against him, you bend him to you. There’s no hope for you, nothing.

Give up, you tell yourself. What’s the point of resisting?

Then it occurs you that this might be a trap. You are very close to destroy Grievous. This close. You already made him lose a saber, then an arm.

What if this is what the Sith Lords wanted all along? What if this is what they want me to become so they could punish my sister? So they could take…him?

However, when reason comes to you, it’s a little late. Your revenge is complete. General Grievous is destroyed.

***

Obi-Wan POV.

It takes a long time before he knows where you are. In that volcano planet, and the Maker wonders why of all the places, Obi-Wan finds you. He does not take so long to pick up the pieces. His heart aches when he finds out the truth.

You were the victim of a masterplan carefully intricated to the war that was bleeding the Galaxy. He knows it now. A little too late, he wonders?

He watches you hold your lightsaber, unsure whether he is relieved for seeing it’s not red the color of it. You are on his back to him, your eyes staring down at the destroyed general.

“I’m afraid you came too late, Obi-Wan.”

Even now the connection is strong. However bent his heart is to the inevitable pain that such remark weights in him, Obi-Wan is not a Jedi to give up easily. Especially when it comes to you.

“It’s never too late to go back right to where you belong, Y/N.” He begins calmly, speaking quietly.

Obi-Wan waits until you slowly turn to meet him. He sees the conflict in your eyes and holds onto the hope.

“I was set up”, you told him.

“I know that now.” His voice is choked. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t there, I…”

“No, you were not.” You cut him off. The hand that holds your lightsaber is shaking. “You chose your path. My heart left with you, but I could never follow you. I accepted that. But where were you when the conspiracy befell me? Of all people, you could have helped me.”

Obi-Wan knows he deserves the accusations, each one that comes from you is like a dagger right into his chest. But he understands that the dark side is twisting your vision, using your pain to make him look like he’s your enemy.

“Y/N, I wasn’t informed of any of this. I was kept away…” He hopes to appeal to your reason. He is not lying. Could you not see that?

You raise your lightsaber. Obi-Wan is baffled by the decision you are making. No. He’s not going to lose you.

“Y/N, I am not fighting you. We are not enemies!” He exclaims, his eyes going teary. What have they done to you? “Listen to me! You are better than this!”

You pop up your lightsaber, your heart pounds as if it’s ripping your chest. You are about to follow the machinations orchestrated by the Chancellor. You are, after all, the vital piece to dominate Mandalore. If you opt to fight Obi-Wan and, let’s just say, defeat him, what’s there to leave for you if not the path to become a Sith?

Obi-Wan sees the logic that your mind is too clouded by the thunderstorms produced by a constant clash between the good and the evil that are inside you.

“I…” you are about to surrender.

But he cannot allow this to happen. I will not lose you again.

“I love you, Y/N! I love you!”

You hesitate. You put your saber down. Obi-Wan is not yet relieved, nor satisfied with the subtle change in your demeanor. He will bring you back to life.

He runs to you. After taking the lightsaber off your hands, he removes the cape off your shoulders. He cups your face with his hands.

“Look at me, look at me!” Obi-Wan searches for your eyes. “I am not letting you fall. I failed you once, I will not fail you again. Look at the good there is in you. Please, Y/N. Do not quake into fear.”

Little by little, Obi-Wan fights his own desolation as he merges into your soul. He rests his forehead against yours, using the Force to bring you back.

And as you are reasonable once again, as your eyes leave the emptiness that were coloring your irises, you burst into tears. He holds you tight, feeling that the clouds of darkness finally left your heart. For good.

***

Your POV.

You are still shaking, even if the environment is hot as hell. You feel accountable to your actions. There’s hurt and pain in you, but no more anger. No more misery.

“I’m sorry”, you manage to speak as you look into his eyes. Obi-Wan is there, holding you close. Oh the desolation that fell upon the two of you! “I’m so sorry!”

He swallows the tears as he presses a kiss onto your forehead.

“It’s all right now, dear one. You were much more a victim to the machinations of the Sith than truthfully accountable for what you did”, and Obi-Wan means every word. He prays you believe in them, though.

But how could you when remorse begins to wash over your being?

“I cannot blame the Sith if I allow them, to a certain point, to manipulate me.” You sob, covering your face with your hands. “I brought shame to Satine, to Mandalore. Oh Maker, how weak minded was I!”

Obi-Wan is the solace you need and he embraces you as to show you this.

“If you were so, you’d have given yourself to the dark forces”, he tells you. “In fact, you are brave, Y/N! You met the shadows that lived in you, but you overcame them. The storm is over. You are free, my darling.”

There is doubt in your eyes. For the best, right now, he takes you out of that volcano planet that creeps him out. As you enter his ship, he leaves it automatic pilot before he goes to you, placing a blanket around your shoulders.

“I should have never left you”, he tells you in a whisper. Obi-Wan does not intend to leave you ever again, regardless of the consequences of his decision. It is as traumatic to you as to him to see you in such a scenario of nearly self destruction.

As you hold him close to you, you surprise yourself by comforting him. You make him look at you as the words roll out of your tongue:

“I never blamed you for leaving like that. Yes, my heart was broken when you did because I loved you with all my being. But in truth I knew you’d have to go eventually. I was well lectured in the aspects of duty. I wouldn’t do different if I were in your shoes, Obi-Wan.” You pause as if to contemplate what you are saying. “Duty must always come first and foremost before our desires. We must place sentiments aside, however, when I was found out that plot about me, clearly orchestrated by the Sith, and no one believed in me… that hurt me more. I tried to appeal for you, but I felt alone.”

You sigh, sad. That is what you are now, sad. Obi-Wan studies you as you fall silent. There is sadness in your heart, giving path to old insecurities. The more he reads into you, the more he… loves you.

“I will not leave you”, he tells you, firm this time. You look at him, surprised. “Never. It’s a vow I make you and will not break it.”

Obi-Wan leans to kiss you and, in spite of your reluctance, you soon melt it. You return the kiss affectionately. It is as if you are making peace, restauring what you once believed to have been lost.

And just like that, the lucid sentiment flows through the kiss, warming both of you at the same time. It turns into the old urge, one you suppressed long time ago and so did he.

He puts you in his lap, and you spread your legs as you do. When your eyes meet, there is no words. There is mutual understanding.

He pulls your hair gently and you throw your head back as his lips pursue your neck. Clothes never felt so heavy in your body as they do now. But Obi-Wan does not take long to remove your robes, surprising you by his skills. You save this observation for later.

You run your fingers through his ginger hair, pulling it intently as you feel his mouth devour your nipples, massaging the one whilst biting the other.

“Oh, Maker!” You squirm under his touch, feeling his hardness beneath you. How have you missed this!

But this time you decide to take control. You show it by pinning him against the wall, slipping to the between of his legs.

“What are you doing…?” Obi-Wan is about to ask when his eyes go wide at you pulling his manhood out.

Oh. He furrows his eyebrows. You can tell he’s been wanting this. But you never had the opportunity to give him the pleasure he gave you years ago.

So you delicately do the same as he did. And any protests that he prepared because, frankly, you are a damsel to his eyes and will always be so, they die in his tongue. He inclines his back against the wall, barely able to breathe as he watches you dominating him in every aspect with your tongue.

Obi-Wan cannot look away. As he plays with your hair, and you take your time to please him, every concern is tossed aside. It is as if those years you were apart of each other never existed.

Your eyes are locked with each other. You feel his needs and you increase whatever it is you are doing just to hear him moan. And he does. He moans your name. It makes you wet and you feel that friction in your womanhood that you never again felt.

Because the day he parted, my heart and desires followed you.

As if listening to your thoughts, he smiles down at you as his climax begins to build. Obi-Wan interrupts you because he wants to make love to you. This time, he does not struggle to penetrate you.

“Oh my Maker!” You sigh so loud.

There is just you and him in such a large ship. You forget your destination. All that matters now is the love you make. He grips tightly your body, pulling it against him as he moves inside you. There is a sense of possessiveness emanating from Obi-Wan, but it shares yours.

“Obi-Wan!” You moan his name when he fastens his pace. Your hips move just as fast as he is.

“Look at me”, he commands you and you obey. He wants to watch you come undone as he inserts a finger right there. A coy smirk crosses his lips when he watches you widening your eyes. “Look at me, Y/N”.

And you do. Obi-Wan had missed the view, how he affects you, the reason why you cry out his name, why your body shakes. He desires you so badly, it turns him on seeing you like this. So undone for him.

He kisses you hungrily just as you shake and you respond him in the same intensity. You mewl under his touch as he finally releases the seed inside you. Maker, that was so good!

And you keep riding on him because you want more of his seed. His eyes follow your moves lazily, his hands still playing with your tits.

“You are so perfect, Y/N.”

And he cuddles you against him. Messy, both of you are.

“I love you the way you are.”

You can tell he smiles when you cuddle him back, feeling his heartbeat slow down as you rest your head at him.

“I love you, Ben.” You whisper against his ear.

This is the peace you required. The moment both of you needed, the reunion your hearts desired.

But it all comes to an end when the robotic voice of the ship announces that you are about to land in Mandalore.

***

Epilogue.

You dress in a magnificent white gown, whose lace is entailed with details associated to Mandalore. It also has long sleeves, showing some of your cleavage. Your auburn hair is tied in a long braid and over your hear there is a tiara once wore by your mother.

Satine is the one who takes you to the altar. It is only fair after your reconciliation. She acknowledged her wrongs as much as you did yours and now your sisterly bond got stronger. So once she gives you away to Obi-Wan, you whisper a “thank you” that only she could hear.

“You are magnificent, my darling”, says Obi-Wan in his formal robes. There present by his side stands Anakin Skywalker accompanied by Senator Padmé Amidala. Surprisingly, some other members of the Jedi Council are also counted amongs the few guests and Master Windu was one of them with Master Yoda by his side.

“You have very loving eyes, my dear Ben”, you respond softly. “The handsome here is you.”

You exchange long, loving glances. There is tenderness, there is love in your eyes. Then the priest begins the ceremony. Once he blesses your union, you and Obi-Wan profess your vow.

“I now declare you husband and wife.”

He leans forward to kiss you, and you press your lips against him, ever so tender.

“Mrs Kenobi”, you tell him secretively. “It sounds so fancy.”

Obi-Wan laughs at that, but a blush gives his face some color. His heartbeat goes fast at what you say. He cannot believe that he’s finally heard his heart and complied to his needs. Duty was fulfilled and as he looks at you, he knows it is now to you he’s devoted completely.

“I’m looking forward to have you to myself tonight”, he whispers, pleased to make you blush.

But for now the intimacy had to wait as the guests require your attention…

***

As you sleep peacefully by his side, Obi-Wan contemplates you with serenity. His hand traces small circles in your bare back, playing with some locks of your hair. He is more than content to see you are in peace after years of lost in trouble because of the Sith.

But the war carries on outside. Though he does not wish to be remembered that, it’s a fact. Obi-Wan senses a child grows in your belly even if you ignore the fact. This sudden realization makes him smile to himself and cuddle you carefully. But it also worries him.

If something happens to us, the child must be hidden somewhere.

An idea that saddens him, but Obi-Wan, cautious as he may be, knows that he must be prepared for everything.

I know a girl is coming. If so, I’ll name her Rey. It is only fair. Has a ring to it, has it not?

Obi-Wan smiles in content. Why worrying with the future when present is giving you everything he aimed for?

Shaking his head as if he reprehends himself for cultivating what he calls paranoia, the Jedi tends for you. The images of your lovemaking clearly washes away his concerns. Perhaps moved by them, he leans forward to kiss your neck.

Obi-Wan would never let you go again.

#star wars #star wars imagine #obi wan kenobi #the clone wars #imagine Star Wars #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi x you #obi-wan kenobi x y/n #obi wan kenobi x y/n #obiwan kenobi x reader #obiwan kenobi x y/n #obiwan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi smut #obiwan kenobi smut #obi-wan kenobi smut #obiwan smut #ed sheeran #bad habits

[m1ndbrand]

Obi-wan: *waking up after being knocked out* where are we?

Anakin: *sarcastically* heaven.

Obi-wan: oh.

Obi-wan: didn’t think you’d be here.

#star wars imagine #anakin skywalker imagine #star wars #incorrect star wars quotes #star wars incorrect quotes #anakin imagines #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin x y/n #anakin x you #anakin skywalker #obi wan and anakin #obi wan #obi wan star wars #obi wan kenobi

[make-me-imagine]

If Only - Part Two

(Part One) -- (Part Three)

Plot: It has been four months since the last time Obi-Wan and Y/n saw each other. Reunited on a strange planet, they learn that their feelings for one another still remain. While stranded together, the time apart seems to have only made it harder for them to resist their hidden desires.

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x GN!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of fighting, violence, blood (not graphic). Not really a warning, but this is a bit of a slow-burn part, but I still hope you like it.

Words: ~5k

-

As you stirred the tea in your mug, you stared out the window of your shelter. It was quiet, as usual, with no people for miles. It was just you out here, by yourself, surrounded by trees and mountains.

You had begun to get used to it, but sometimes you still yearned for company. Specifically that of Obi-Wan. You often fondly remembered the long conversations you had together, and how easy it was to talk to him.

You thought you would think of him less, the longer you were apart, but you were wrong. You often thought back on that day when you went on your last mission together. How close you got to breaking the rules. You could still remember the feel of his face brushing against yours, his lips pressed against your skin.

Letting your mind wander even more, you thought back to the day you left the resistance base, four months ago. Yoda had given you this mission, to be a Jedi spy out in the distant system. You couldn't refuse him, even if he did not give you a reason for sending you off alone.

As you were packing up your things, Anakin and Obi-Wan came to see you off. When you had a moment alone with Obi-Wan, he expressed his concerns.

"Do you not think me ready?" You asked, somewhat offended.

He sighed and shook his head. "I think you more than qualified. It's just-" He didn't finish, but instead turned and stared off in the distance.

You spoke softly, daring to ask. "Is it that you will miss me?"

When he turned to you, you had a soft, almost playful smile on your face. A soft smile spread across his own face as well, as he nodded once. "Yes Y/n, I will miss you." Turning and taking a step closer he peered into your eyes. "I also worry for you, out there on your own."

You looked down at your feet. "Yes. It's odd to think of being so alone. Especially after being here with everyone."

"I only hope your mission does not keep you away long."

Looking back up at him, you caught something in his gaze that he seemed to quickly hide. You smiled and nodded. "I hope so too." Turning, you looked at the ship, as the pilot waved to you, signalling he was ready.

"It's time." You said softly, before turning back to him.

You were surprised when he suddenly took your hand in his. You felt him press something into your palm, closing your fist around it.

"Do not forget who you are Y/n." Then he continued, with an even quieter voice "And do not forget to come back to me." He smiled softly at you, an almost melancholy smile, before he released your hand and stepped back.

You hesitated for a moment, before you turned and walked to the ship. As you boarded, you turned once more, to see Anakin and the others waving you off. Opening your hand, you looked at the object Obi-Wan had given you, and you felt your chest tighten. It was a pendant, for a neck chain, the symbol of the Jedi order. You knew it was risky for him to give you something like this, especially when going off as spy. But you would keep it safe, to remind you of who you were, and where you belonged.

Looking up, you locked eyes with Obi-Wan one last time as the doors closed, you felt your gut clench as you wondered how long it would be before you saw him again.

Getting up from the table, you walked over to the corner of the room, uncovering a trunk. Opening it you reached in, pulling out a small box. Opening it, you pulled out the pendant that Obi-Wan had given you, which you now had on a chain.

You smiled to yourself as you ran your fingers over it. You let out a long sigh, as homesickness washed over you. The Clone Wars seems to be coming to a head, and you were stuck out here, when you should be with the resistance. You felt restless, useless.

Suddenly, your window was blown in by a weapons blast, causing you to throw yourself to the floor. You grabbed your nearby blaster as you waited, heart pounding.

"Come out Jedi scum!" You heard a metallic voice ring out.

'Droids?' You cursed under your breath as you realized your cover was blown. Someone in the town must have recognized you last time you went. Looking at the still open trunk, you saw your cloaks and light-saber. Grabbing them, and a subspace transceiver, you ran out the back door.

As you ran through the woods, you heard the droid voices nearby, followed by more blasting into shelter you had called home over the last four months.

Hiding behind a large tree you began to send a message to the resistance base. Telling them your cover was blown, and you were on the run. You were unsure of when they would get the message, or how long you would be on your own.

As a tree beside you was suddenly blown apart, you ducked before continuing to run further into the woods, aware you were now being chased.

-----------------

Obi-Wan listened to your message, as it played throughout the room. Your voice was hushed and panicked, in the background he could hear the clear sound of weapons fire. The rest of the council shared concerned looks as Yoda carefully watched Obi-Wan.

"I shall go." Obi-Wan said with a resolute look at Master Yoda.

Yoda hummed to himself as he studied Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan knew why he was somewhat resistant to the thought, but he would not back down.

Surprisingly, he did not question Obi-Wan, or resist, but nodded his head. "Yes, go you shall. Find Y/n, you will. And return soon."

Obi-Wan nodded in thanks, before bowing lightly and turning to leave. His thoughts raced as he hurried to his jet. Your message was hours old, and it would take him much longer than he'd like to get to the planet. He hoped you had not been captured, or killed.

'Hold out Y/n. For me. I'm coming.' He thought deeply to himself, part of him reaching out with the force, hoping that somehow, you could hear him.

What he found when he arrived at the coordinates of your shelter caused his chest to clench. Your shelter had been completely destroyed, and there was no sign of you.

Following the tracks he could find entering the forest, he knew you had been followed by a small army of droids. Along the path, he discovered multiple droid bodies, clearly cut down by your saber.

Eventually, the woods grew thicker and dark, as the evening fog began to descend on him. Looking down into a distant valley, he spotted the group of droids looking or you.

Feeling a nearby presence, he pulled out his saber. Looking into the dense forest, he saw movement through the fog. He knew not if it was you, a native, or a droid. Slowly, he creeped into the fog, attempting to follow the figure.

As he rounded a small rock mound, he noted the empty clearing. Feeling movement behind him, he swung around, unleashing his saber, only for it to clash with another's.

"Obi-Wan" Your voice rang out, full of surprise and relief.

Obi-Wan let out a breath as he saw you, quickly redrawing his saber. Putting your own away, you looked at him breathlessly. "You came."

"Of course I did."

He saw an odd look in your eyes, as if there was something you wanted to say. Clearing your throat a bit you stepped a bit closer. "Please tell me you have a ship nearby."

He nodded, "Yes, we should go quickly." His gaze washed over you and he hesitated when he saw your side covered in blood.

Seeing where his gaze was drawn, you looked down at our bloodied clothes. "It's not as bad as it looks." You said with a soft laugh.

Turning, he looked around, seeing a small cave nearby. "Come, in here, let me take a look."

Watching him walk away, you felt your heart pounding heavily. Taking a deep breath you followed him. "Did Anakin not come as well? You two are usually inseparable."

Obi-Wan looked back at you and smiled softly. "He was busy."

Looking around the small cave, you hoped it was not the home to any creatures. You jumped slightly when you felt Obi-Wan suddenly touch your side.

"Sorry." He said softly as he tugged at your shirt. "You are right, it's not as bad as it looks, but you've been running with this wound, and you've lost a concerning amount of blood." Looking out of the cave, you saw him considering what to do. "The ship is a bit too far I think. And the droids are in the opposite direction. I think we should stay here for the night."

You looked out at the darkening forest and sighed. "You are probably right. I've come across some nasty creatures that prowl this forest at night." As you spoke, you stretched out your arm, revealing a long scar along your forearm.

Obi-Wan grabbed your wrist, looking at the scar. He felt his gut clench lightly at the thought of what you had to deal with our here. He met our eyes. "I hope this is the only scar you've received out here."

You shrugged your head a bit, suggesting there were more. You saw him frown slightly before he walked into the cave, looking around. You watched him for a moment as you let out a long breath.

Butterflies were erupting through your stomach, and you silently cursed them, having hoped maybe you could have repressed some of your feelings while while gone.

As darkness descended, you sat against the cold cave wall watching silently as Obi-Wan stood just outside the cave, listening and watching. In the distance you heard a long animalistic howl and you shivered. Recognizing the call of the animal that had almost taken your life a month earlier.

As Obi-Wan walked back into the cave he watched you closely. "The droid army is far away from us, we are safe."

Sitting down across from you, he looked you over. Your hair had grown, and you looked worn out. His eyes stopped on your neck, as he spotted the Jedi pendant. He felt his heart palpitate and his neck grow hot. Clearing his throat, you looked over at him.

"Are things as bad as I hear? I haven't been able to get any confirmation, only whispers from the people in town."

"They are certainly not as good as I would like."

"And things are only going to get worse, aren't they?"

"I'm afraid so."

You nodded your head as you looked out at the dark forest. "I felt useless out here." You admitted.

"You are not useless, and you never have been. I have heard of the information you have gathered. Information that has helped the resistance considerably."

You fiddled with your hands. "Did Master Yoda ever reveal why he sent me out here? Did I do something wrong? Did he not trust me to be with the resistance?"

Obi-Wan felt his guilt and dejection wash over him. "It was not that he did not trust you Y/n. It was that he did not trust me."

You looked up at him, "What do you mean?"

As he stared at you silently, contemplating, you felt your ears grow hot as your mind began to race. Slowly, Obi-Wan spoke, his voice hesitant. "He could sense the conflict within me. My feelings for you. He was afraid it would effect my judgment."

Your heart was pounding heavily in your chest. "So he sent me away?"

Obi-Wan looked down at his feet. "Yes. I am sorry."

"I understand." Obi-Wan looked at you inquisitively. "If he could feel the conflict within you, surely he could sense it within me as well. And you are much stronger than me, a better Jedi, more important. If he had to send someone away, it makes sense that it was me."

Obi-Wan watched your face closely as you stared at the ground. He could tell your mind was racing, as you tried to suppress the strong emotions racing through you.

"But-" You began, slowly looking up at him. "Why did he allow you to come for me now?"

A small, almost unnoticeable smile crossed his lips. "Because he knew I would trust no one else to come"

Your eyes stayed locked, as you felt tension begin to grow. Forcing yourself to look away, you knew the more you talked, the harder it would be to repress your feelings. But, there was something you needed to know, needed to say.

"I-" You began, but faltered.

Obi-Wan watched you as you hesitated. "What?" He asked softly.

"It is possible that I imagined it, out of fear when I was fleeing, but...I thought that I, heard you. Before you got here."

Obi-Wan felt his heart jolt as he as up straighter. "What did you hear?"

"I heard your voice in the back of my head. Saying 'Hold out Y/n. For me. I'm coming.'" I thought maybe it was just me trying to convince myself that the Jedi were coming to help me, perhaps to calm myself."

"It was me." He said abruptly.

You met his eyes and saw them full of surprise. "It was?"

He nodded once as he stood, walking over to you. Kneeling down in front of you he stared intently at you. "When I was leaving the resistance base to come to you, I thought those words. I sent them out with the force, hoping that you could hear me, but I didn't know if you would. But you did."

You nodded, unable to find any words. Your eyes were locked as various emotions washed over you. You knew his own eyes were reflecting yours.

As a cold wind blew through the cave, you wrapped your cloak around you tighter and looked away from him.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath as he moved to sit beside you, shielding you somewhat from the cold. His shoulder was pressed close against yours as you sat in silence.

You felt exhaustion begin to wash over you as the adrenaline of the day began to fade. Feeling Obi-Wan so close, you had nervous butterflies in your stomach. But even more, you felt safe, and relieved to be by his side.

As your eyes began to grow heavy, your body slowly began to relax and slump. Your thoughts had begun to grow foggy as you felt your head droop, resting on Obi-Wan's shoulder. You felt him tense up for a moment before he relaxed. You knew you should move, but you could find no strength to.

Feeling Obi-Wan reach over and adjust your cloak so it was covering you completely, you let out a soft breath. "Obi-Wan?"

"Yes?" His soft voice met your ears.

"Thank you for coming to get me."

There was a moment of silence as you began to drift into sleep. You thought for a moment, through the fog, that you felt him press his lips softly to your head. Followed by his whispered voice. "Always."

And then there was darkness.

-----------------

Staring out into the forest as the dawn light shone through the fog, you and Obi-Wan stood side by side, listening and waiting for any sign that the droids might be nearby.

After a few more moments, Obi-Wan let out a deep breath and nodded his head. "Lets go."

Following him silently, you looked back once more at the cave, before you headed into the forest behind him. You walked silently, both of you aware you could be ambushed at any moment if the droids had returned to this side of the planet.

When you returned to what had been your shelter, you took a moment to look it over. Obi-Wan watched you silently, before you turned and nodded to him, signalling you were ready to move on.

"The ship is not too far from here." He said quietly as he looked around.

"Do you remember the last mission we went on?" You asked softly.

Obi-Wan met your eyes and nodded. You were certain his mind flashed to the moment you had on the ship afterwards, just as yours had. But you were referring to that gut feeling, that something was going to go wrong.

"I have the same feeling I did on that planet." You spoke as you looked into the nearby trees.

Obi-Wan nodded. "As do I."

Following Obi-Wan away from the shelter, your defenses were up, both of you expecting to run into droids any moment. Hearing something nearby, you both stopped and listened.

Closing your eyes, you listened intently, reaching out with the force as best you could. Feeling as though something was coming up from behind, you did not hesitate. Taking out your saber, you spun and threw it into the woods behind you.

Obi-Wan spun around, watching as the saber went into the darkness, before clearly slicing trough some hidden droids. As your saber came back to you, Obi-Wan unleashed his own, watching you and waiting for more to come out, but none did.

You looked back at him and saw the clear surprise in his gaze at your actions. You shrugged lightly "When you are out here alone for as long as me, its easier to feel a disturbance."

A soft smile graced his face as you both turned, hearing movement in the distance again. "There will be more between us and the ship."

You nodded. "I'm ready if you are."

After a short moment, he began to move, as you quickly followed him. You ventured through the woods cautiously, trying to go around the group of droids, waiting to avoid a fight if you could.

Spotting the ship in a nearby clearing, you saw a group of droids waiting around it, watching for you to come near. You and Obi-Wan crouched down behind a group of boulder-like rocks and watched the droids.

"I count seven."

"Eight." You added, and he looked over at you.

You motioned your head at the trees, and he looked up, spotting a hidden sentury drone in the trees.

"Very good. You've grown stronger."

"I had no choice." You said softly, aware that Obi-Wan looked over at you watching you closely.

"Once we get away from here, you must tell me all that transpired over your time here."

Looking over and meeting his gaze, you smiled softly. "I'm sure you have some stories of your own too."

He met your gaze softly for a moment before you both turned and looked back at the ship. "Ready?" He asked and you nodded silently.

Simultaneously you snuck out from behind the rocks and moved through the bushes, going separate directions, and getting as close as you could before you attacked. Getting right behind some of the droids, you looked across the clearing, spotting Obi-Wan behind two other droids. One nod and you both acted.

Slicing though the two droids, you grabbed a blaster and shot the sentry drone out of the tree. Obi-Wan took out two droids before the remaining three began to fire on the two of you. Diving behind a tree, you watched as Obi-Wan advanced on the droids. Firing on one of the droids with the blaster, you could hear droids coming from the distance, having heard the blaster fire.

As Obi-Wan took out the last two droids, you ran for the ship. As a blast hit the ship beside you, you spun around and began firing on the droids coming from the woods. Obi-Wan called out for you as the ship doors began to close.

Quickly diving into the ship, you returned more fire on the droids as the ship door closed. Obi-Wan quickly ran to the cock-pit as you heard more blaster fire hitting the ship. Following him to the cock-pit, you took the fighter seat preparing to fire on the droids as you took off.

"This is the most fun I've had in months." You grinned as you fired down at the droids, taking the rest of them out.

You could see Obi-Wan roll his eyes, but he could barely repress his own smile at your comment.

When you were finally out of orbit, you let out a long drawn out breath as you watched the planet fade from view. You said a silent, but gladdened goodbye.

"At least we escape with less injuries this time." You said as you leaned back in your seat.

He looked over at you and smiled, but looked at your still bloodied clothes. "How is your wound?"

You gently set your hand on your side. "Could be worse."

Obi-Wan watched you for a moment before tearing his eyes away from you, trying to repress the memories of what happened in the ship the last time you were together alone.

Some time passed in silence, before you voiced your most recent thoughts. "Do you think, once we return, Master Yoda will let me stay?"

Obi-Wan looked over at you, he had not thought about it. "I do not know. But if you want to stay, I will fight for it."

"Don't you think that might make him suspicious?" You asked, half joking.

He smiled lightly. "Perhaps. But either way, his plan failed, so he might as well let you stay. "

You furrowed your brow. "What do you mean his plan failed?" You asked cautiously.

Obi-Wan paused for a moment, uncertain if he should elaborate. Meeting your eyes, he knew the tension between the two of you was still there, and there it would remain.

Turning his seat to face you, he let out a soft breath. "It was Master Yoda's intention to separate us, so that, perhaps, over time, the feelings that we have would fade. I know not how, or if your feelings have changed. But mine have not. In fact, I think it only made them grow, us being apart, it simply made me think of you more often."

You were surprised by his words, surprised that he would so openly admit this to you. You swallowed the lump in your throat. "I feel the same." Your voice was soft and shy as you held his gaze.

Obi-Wan felt the tightness in his chest growing as his eyes scanned your face. His eyes lingered on your lips, and he felt unsure if he could continue to ignore the tension that grew thick between you.

You recalled what happened last time you almost failed to suppress your feelings. You remembered how close he was, his breath against your cheek as he whispered 'If Only'.

Clearing your throat, you tore your gaze from his "I should go rest." You said as you stood up.

Your breath caught in your throat as he stood as well. You were right in front of each other, chests almost touching. You met his gaze and almost staggered when you realized how close he was. His hands reached out and gently grabbed your arms, steadying you.

Your eyes were locked once again, but unlike before, you seemed unable to find the strength to look away. Obi-Wan's breath was uneven as he gently held your arms, keeping you there, keeping you close.

He knew he should let go, let you leave, walk away. He should. He needed to.

He couldn't.

As if the tension between you snapped like a bolt of lighting, your lips met in a rough kiss. His hands wrapped around your waist as he pulled you as close as he could, deepening the kiss as much as he could. Your hands gripped his cloaks tightly as you returned the kiss fervently, your mind blank, as your whole body seemed to tingle.

You felt one of his hands grip the back of your head, burying his fingers in your hair. You moved your arms, wrapping them around his neck as you felt you needed to be closer, but knew you couldn't possibly be closer than you already were.

You weren't sure how long you had been kissing before you both seemed to come to your senses. Pulling apart, your breaths heavy and uneven as your eyes burned into each others.

You felt a sense of unease wash over you as you stepped back, out of his arms. "We shouldn't have done that." Stepping away again, you regretfully looked away and left the room, heading further into the ship.

Obi-Wan watched you leave, almost going after you, but stopping himself with a reminder of who he was. He let out a long ragged breath as he closed his eyes. The feeling of your lips against his was still present in his mind, and he knew he would not forget it easily.

Sitting back down, he put his head in his hands, shaming himself, knowing that he failed. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not truly feel shame, because he knew he wanted to kiss you, that he did not regret it, as much as he should. And he knew he wanted to kiss you again and again, if only he could, but he couldn't. This had to be the last time.

You had not spoken to Obi-Wan the rest of the trip. And as you got off the ship, back at the resistance base, side by side, shoulders brushing, you felt his hand graze yours, and thought for a moment he was going to grasp it. But as you saw Anakin and Master Yoda enter the room, you pulled away.

You smiled as Anakin walked up to you. "Hello Anakin."

Hugging you, he pulled away. "I'm glad you are alright."

"Returned safely you have. Glad I am." Master Yoda said.

You looked down at him and bowed your head. "I am glad to be back Master."

Yoda hummed as he studied you and Obi-Wan before he nodded his head. "Rest you must. Come, come."

You spared a glance at Obi-Wan before you followed Master Yoda out of the room, beginning to answer questions Anakin began to trow at you.

----------------

Rushing into the room, you saw Obi-Wan nearby. Seeing you enter, he faced you as you approached.

"I heard you are leaving already?" You asked.

Obi-Wan nodded, "Yes. Senator Palpatine has been kidnapped, me and Anakin, have been assigned with his rescue, we are leaving immedietely."

You nodded your head as you stared past his shoulder. Obi-Wan studied you, seeing that you had a lot you wanted to say. He opened his mouth to speak, but you broke in.

"I have a bad feeling Obi-Wan." He saw the concern evident in your eyes. "I feel like something very bad is going to happen soon."

Looking around, he made sure you were alone before he took a small step closer. Gently, he took your hand in his and squeezed it lightly. "I will return soon, and we will continue this fight, together."

He saw your face fall for a moment before you spoke. "I wont be here Obi-Wan."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I have talked with Master Yoda. With everything going on, we need to be vigilant, the Jedi will be spreading out along the galaxy, to prepare for anything that might happen."

"He is sending you away again?" He asked, his emotion rising.

"I volunteered." You admitted, and you saw surprise cross his face.

"It's better this way. I'm too much of a distraction, especially now."

His chest grew tight, as pulled you closer, he spoke softly. "Where will you go?"

You shook your head. "I don't know yet." You lied.

He let out a soft breath. "I will see you again. When this is all over."

You met his gaze, and felt yourself unable to hold back your emotion. You wrapped your arms around him in a hug. He hesitated for a moment, before he wrapped his own arms around you.

"Be careful." You whispered.

"And you." He replied.

Pulling away, you moved to step away, but he grabbed your hand. You saw him fighting between his emotions before he stepped closer to you. His face was close to yours, lips almost brushing. Bringing his hand up he gently caressed your cheek. You closed your eyes and let out a soft breath.

Your heart seemed to stop, as you felt his lips gently press against yours in a soft kiss, that ended almost as fast as it had begun.

When he pulled away, you opened your eyes, and met his equally emotional gaze. Grabbing his hand, you pressed something within his fist. "Don't forget who you are Obi-Wan." You said, repeating words he had once told you.

He frowned slightly as you let go of his hand. Stepping back, you looked at him one more time before you turned and walked away, fighting tears that threatened to spill. You pushed away the intrusive thought in the back of your mind, telling you, that this was the last time you would ever see Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He watched you disappear with an aching heart. Looking down at his hand, his breath caught in his throat as he stared down at the pendant. The one he had given you before you left for your mission months before.

Looking up, he felt an overwhelming urge to chase after you, but as the doors slid open and Anakin entered, he knew he was too late.

If only he had one more chance to tell you how he felt.

If only this was not the last time he would see you for what would feel like, a very long time.

xx End xx

So this is ending where Episode III begins.

Part Three

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo

Star Wars Taglist: @hoeforthefictional; @whimsical-daydreams

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