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cinnamon-galaxies · 6 months

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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!

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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.

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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hereticpriest · 3 months

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Mercy Ch. 1 - Every Story Has a Beginning

Rating: Explicit 18+

MDNI

Relationship: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

To begin with, some warnings about this story: A/B/O Dynamics, Female Alpha, Male Omega, Some chapters may involve messing with the whole 'alphas are always dom and omegas are always sub' because I think nuance exists even in A/B/O dynamics, Fucking with the timeline (this is a blend of Canon, Legends, and original lore), Minimal use of Y/N (Explained in the first chapter), Reader is an alien species of my own creation and thus has a physical description, Familial bonds explored heavily, Clone rights explored heavily, Violence is more graphic than canon-typical however any graphic descriptions will be noted, AFAB reader, Not beta-read so I apologize for any mistakes.

Chapter Warnings: A bit heavy in exposition - I apologize, I have a lot to introduce. Minimal warnings, but there is some discussion of dynamics with children to prepare them for their future. Child abandonment?

Read on AO3

Masterlist - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

A floating holo of Haelstruum rotated in the centre of the room, followed swiftly by a couple of other planets from across the galaxy. Ryloth, Shii, Glee Anselm, Corellia, Stewjon, and even Coruscant joined Haela in a cluster before their teacher, Master Yoda, as he began a slow but engaging lecture on the history of each planet and the Jedi they had produced. Haelstruum was not a common addition to the lecture, and as such, was one of the planets which appeared to intrigue the students in the room most of all. You noticed several eyes glancing back at you, filled with curiosity despite having been taught together for many years now. Your pointed ears flicked with irritation, an unconscious habit you had still yet to gain control of despite repeatedly hearing from your instructors that it gave away your true feelings.

“... not many jedi, Haelstruum has produced. Curious, as many force-sensitives, Haelstruum has.” Master Yoda gave a hum of amusement at the way his students leaned forwards towards him. Their eagerness to learn was often his favourite part of visiting the Heloist and Kybuck clans of younglings for lessons. He looked around the room for a moment, admiring the yearning for knowledge of each youngling, before his gaze fell upon you. The only potential Jedi from Haelstruum in nearly thirty years.

A hand shot up directly to the right of you. Doa’su, a teal-skinned Twi’lek who had always been endlessly curious about your species. Haela were rarely found off of Haelstruum, and strangers were rarely welcomed onto the planet, so the Archives or lessons were the only way to learn more about where you came from.

“A question, you have?” Yoda asked, and Doa’su straightened her back to right her posture, trying to look more adult than she was.

“Yes, Master Yoda. I was wondering why there aren’t more Haela Jedi if Haelstruum has a lot of force-sensitives?” She asked with as respectful a tone as a six year old could manage. Your tail flicked behind you, winding in slow s-patterns like a snake through the sand. You were also curious, of course. You’d been taken from Haelstruum when you were only a babe - no more than a year old if your minder in the crèche was to be believed. Yoda’s gaze found you again, and you could have sworn a smile tugged at his lips. Maybe he’d seen your excitement evident in your winding tail.

“Fiercely loyal, Haela are. And fiercely insular, I’m afraid. Believe themselves capable of teaching their own to use the Force and control themselves, the Haelstruum council does.” Yoda replied honestly, and as Doa’su perked up again as if to ask a follow up, he raised a calming hand palm towards her, “While strong with the Force, Haela are, deeply superstitious they are as well. If born under a bad omen, a Haelan is, abandoned they will be. A deep connection to the Force, Haelan seers have, but not always clear these visions are.”

You had a moment of fear at the idea of being abandoned. Considered a bad omen, or seen through the Force to do something awful. You closed your eyes for a brief moment, breathing in deeply, then exhaling slowly and calmly until the ripples in the serene pool of your mind dissipated to nothing.

“How was I found by the Jedi, Master Yoda?” You asked, bringing your tail into your lap to further calm yourself. To your left, you felt a curious gaze from the Stewjonni boy whose freckles seemed as plentiful as the stars in the night sky. His curiosity seemed to rival that of Doa’su, and it was liable to make you nervous again if you gave either of them any attention.

“Ahh, a very interesting tale, that is. Born under a rare foreseen comet, you were. A bad omen, it was said, for a child with the Force to be born under the watchful gaze of this comet. If I recall, lifted a starfruit to your cradle, you did. In the neighbouring system, Master Dooku was, and contacted by the Haelan council, we were.” Master Yoda replied, and you took some comfort in the knowledge that despite being considered a bad omen by your people, they still gave you to the Jedi instead of whatever alternative might have been possible.

“Thank you, Master Yoda. I apologise for the interruption.” You said politely, quieting down for the remainder of the lesson. The boy beside you kept his gaze fixed on your face a little longer, and you finally looked at him, blinking in surprise at the toothy smile he gave you. He wasn’t in the same clan as you - Kybuck clan to your Heloist clan - but you recognized him all the same. Obi-wan Kenobi, a strawberry blonde ball of rebellion and mischief that you did not need to get involved with. You immediately looked away again, your pale pink cheeks gaining a purple flush as your blue blood rushed to your face.

“Names are important,” Master Mundi aurated, his voice soft and lyrical as always as he took ownership of the front of the classroom, “Some cultures use their family name until they are old enough to choose their own name. Some cultures have names that have rich meaning, and are meant to foretell their future, while others simply choose something that appeals to the parents. Some cultures name their children after relatives. There are even some who have a given name that they only use during their youth, at which point it becomes personal and only used between close friends and family. Haela are a wonderful example of this, like our dear youngling Y/N. When Haela begin maturing, they choose what is called a ‘virtue name’. This name can be an attribute that they wish to personify throughout their life, or a calling that they feel deep in their heart. You’re still a bit young for that, Y/N, but I will be very curious to see what you land on.”

You smiled sheepishly, embarrassed by the attention, though Master Mundi swiftly moved onto the topic of titles, and how their importance varied from planet to planet. He was a fantastic teacher, and while his work largely fell into that of a Guardian, he was skilled with introducing Consular matters to the younglings. You quite enjoyed his classes, as even when the topic was boring, his lilting voice managed to keep your attention.

Later that day, while practising with your training saber under Master Yoda’s watchful eye, you couldn’t stop thinking about virtue names. What would you choose? How would you choose something so important without any guidance at all? What if you chose something as a Padawan but found that it didn’t suit you as an adult? You were only eight years old - you wouldn’t have to decide for at least a couple more years, and yet you felt frozen with indecision as if you had to decide this exact moment. From your understanding, the previous Haela Jedi had always chosen their virtue names as they transitioned from youngling to Padawan. That was still years away.

Nearby, Obi-Wan and another human boy had been paired up to spar. The sound of their training sabers buzzed in your ears, though you didn’t look up from the kata you were moving through robotically, far too lost in your head. It was a soothing sound to you, helping you reach a moving meditation state that had you following the will of the Force more than you were consciously following your kata movements. A yelp split the air, and you blinked rapidly as you came out of your trance, ears still buzzing with energy as you turned to see Obi-Wan on the floor with his hand around his ankle. The other human boy whose name you couldn’t remember was apologising profusely, and you could see unshed tears in Obi-Wan’s eyes that he was trying to hide. Master Yoda began to make his way across the room towards them, but you got there first, crouching in front of the Stewjonni boy with a sympathetic smile.

“That looks like it hurts.” You murmured, gently pulling his hands away from his ankle and rubbing your wrists together comfortingly. Despite still being too young for your dynamic to emerge, platonic scenting was common between younglings for comfort and bond-building, even if you barely knew him. He blinked at you, but the tension in his body eased, soothed by your gentle touch. His ankle was already red and beginning to swell, so you placed a careful hand on the joint. You didn’t quite know what you were doing, or why, but you could feel the Force guiding you, breathing through you. You felt bad for Obi-Wan and wanted to take away his pain.

And so you did.

You watched as the swelling began to reduce as quickly as it started. The redness melted back into pale skin littered with freckles, and Obi-Wan’s harsh breathing slowed. He reached for you this time, rubbing his wrist against yours, his body instinctively leaning towards you as he wiped his face in the collar of his robes. You barely even noticed that the boy had clasped his hand with yours, your wrists together while your other hand hovered over his injured ankle. A tingle of connection and thanks shot through you, and you smiled at Obi-Wan shyly as you finished healing his ankle. You removed your hand from his ankle as Master Yoda approached, a fond smile on his wrinkly old face.

“The gift of healing, you appear to have. A wonderful surprise, this is.” Yoda said as you used your grip on Obi-Wan’s hand to carefully help him to his feet. The young human boy rubbed his wrist against yours again a final time, reciprocating that comfort and silently thanking you for it, before he finally, reluctantly, let go.

“Does that mean I will have to stop my training and go to the Halls of Healing?” You asked your teacher with the beginnings of a pout, drawing a croaky laugh from the Master who had trained you for so long.

“Continue to train, you will. Want your help, the Halls of Healing may. But yours, the choice remains.”

You were nearly ten when you were brought into a cosy classroom that you didn’t think was still under use. Plants lined the shelving, and at the head of the room stood a Jedi you knew quite well. He often visited the crèche when he was stressed, playing with the youngest of the younglings or rocking the babies to sleep. He told grand stories of his missions, child-friendly of course, and you would always listen with rapt attention to his dramatic tales. Qui-Gon Jinn. Former apprentice of the man who brought you to the Jedi Temple as a babe.

Your fellow younglings shifted anxiously in their seats, all of you unsure as you had not been told what the lesson entailed, simply a time and classroom number. You held onto your tail to keep it from swaying nervously behind you, catching the eye of Doa’su beside you as she watched you. You offered her a shy smile which she returned, reaching out the short distance to rub your wrists together.

“Ah, a wonderful way to begin your lesson.” Qui-Gon interrupted you, making you jump in your seat. Your cheeks flushed purple, and Doa’su stammered an apology, but the Jedi Master simply shook his head and smiled at you both.

“Most Jedi are Betas, though scholars continue to argue whether that is because of the Force, or simply innately because Betas are far more common than the other two dynamics. I personally believe it to be a combination of both, however it is true that there are several wise Jedi who happen to be Alphas, or Omegas. Master Windu himself is an Alpha, as is my former master, Master Dooku. Master Sifo-Dyas and Master Yaddle are both Omegas.” Qui-Gon explained, “In this class, I will be giving you all a lesson in dynamics, including pack bonds, how your dynamic might affect your connection to the Force and the people around you, and dynamic-specific anatomy.”

After a quick look around the room, you gave a nervous giggle. You weren’t the only one whose face was flushed. Doa’su was as purple as you, and the Togruta youngling Orare seemed to be attempting to sink into the floor. Nanga, a Nautolan youngling was trying to cover her face with her tendrils, while Yaris, a Corellian boy simply pulled the front of his robes up over the lower half of his face. Qui-Gon watched you all with a certain fondness in his eyes, a kind but heavily amused smile on his face.

“All dynamics have scent glands, as I’m sure you are all aware. As demonstrated previously by younglings Y/N and Doa’su, pressing your scent glands together can be a way to comfort eachother, and display bonds of friendship. You have scent glands on your chin, your neck, and your wrists. It is generally considered that scenting via wrists is a platonic display, while scenting chin-to-neck is far more intimate. The glands on your neck are used for mating bonds, though only force-mates are allowed to bind themselves this way within the Jedi Order.” Qui-Gon gestured towards the appropriate glands on his own body as he spoke, and you reached up to touch the gland on your chin curiously.

“How do you know that someone is your force-mate?” Nanga asked, shy but very curious. Qui-Gon smiled indulgently.

“When you brush your force signature against your force-mate, it will instantly create a bond between you, stronger than any training bond or pack bond you may create. Should one not be taking blockers, the scent of their mate might be a good indicator, and might throw them both into early heat or ruts. It is said to be instantly obvious when you meet your force-mate, though only if you meet after presenting.” Qui-Gon explained as he walked leisurely around the room, “I have been asked to warn you that finding your force-mate is a very rare occurrence, lest you feel disheartened if you don’t find them. I have also been asked to remind you that while force-mates are respected by the Council, you must always put the living will of the Force, and the Jedi Code, first.”

The Beta Master went on to explain that heats and ruts were monthly, though many species have stronger heats and ruts during the spring and summer seasons. He explained that the possibility of pregnancy, and the genital anatomy of Alphas and Omegas was species-dependent and very complicated, but to be assured that it was very likely that whatever relationship dynamic you fell into would allow procreation, if you found your force-mate. To your immense embarrassment, Qui-Gon Jinn took the time to explain an Alpha’s knot, Omega slick, and general anatomy of each dynamic for each of the species present in the room. He explained Omega behaviour like nesting, and how it could be supported by their pack. You were relieved when he dispelled the misconceptions around Alpha commands, as they had always been unnerving to you. While a command was compelling, it was not all-powerful, and it was generally used to break through barriers like anxiety or fear. Even the worst, most vile Alpha couldn’t force their Omega or Beta into anything they didn’t want to do.

Betas tend to have soothing scents, Alphas tend towards woodsy or spicy scents, and Omegas often have flowery or sweet scents, Qui-Gon explained as he went into how scent was as good as mind-reading for many people. It was an innate, biological knowledge that everyone shared. Sour smells indicated fear, tang indicated arousal, warmth indicated happiness or contentedness, and the scent of rot often followed anger or hate. Even as younglings, with very little scent of your own, you could recognize these scents in others around you - particularly adults.

The last part of your lesson revolved around pack bonds and dynamic communication. Packs often fluctuated, and the pack you belonged to as a youngling would change as you became a Padawan, and later, a Master. Packs consisted of a variety of members of different dynamics, headed by an Alpha, and balanced by a strong Beta. Multiple Alphas could be in the same pack, however one of those Alphas would inevitably be stronger than the others, or at the very least submitted to. Alphas chuff when pleased, while Omegas purr. Alphas growl or roar when displeased, while Omegas hiss. Omegas make a chirrup sound to get the attention of those around them, a sharp, ear-catching sound. Betas can purr, and it can be incredibly soothing to be around a purring Beta. Betas also bark when displeased, and even the strongest Alpha would feel chastened by a Beta’s bark.

“When you present your dynamic, you will be given scent blockers, and heat or rut blockers as well. You will be given a birth control implant, which can be removed when you get older, should you find your force-mate. It is important to know that while your first heat or rut can be scary, you will be supported by those around you, and the effects will be swiftly soothed by taking your first round of blockers.” Qui-Gon showed you all the birth control implant in his arm to assuage your fears, letting each of you touch the small shape beneath his skin. You had to admit, it made you feel better to have a frank discussion of these things that you knew existed, but were kept so cloistered in the Jedi Temple.

By the end of the lesson, despite the uncertainty surrounding it, you felt a little more at ease about your future. Most Jedi were Betas, anyways, so you likely didn’t have much to worry about. And you likely wouldn’t present for a couple of years still - the average age for presenting was 12-14. It was a distant worry if anything. There was no way you would be an Alpha, or an Omega. There was no way.

Space was cold.

It was your first clear thought since you’d boarded the small cruiser that would take you on your first mission with your new Master. You stood proudly behind him and the pilot in the cockpit, feet carefully shoulder-width apart, your chin tipped up regally as your Master had instructed you. Your hands were folded carefully behind your back, hidden in your sleeves, and you relied entirely upon your balance to keep yourself upright for the journey despite any turbulence. Most younglings become Padawans closer to the age of twelve, however your Master requested you a little early, believing you would benefit from one-on-one attention sooner rather than later. At the tender age of ten, you looked up into the proud eyes of your Master as he carefully twisted the strands of your hair into your Padawan braid, and you knew you had been right to hope for him to be your Master for all of these years.

“Have you chosen a virtue name, my young Padawan?” Your Master asked as he got to the end of your braid, beginning to tie it off with a teal band.

“Yes, Master. I will be known as Mercy from now on.” You replied, hope stirring in your belly that you had chosen correctly. Your Master smiled fondly as he finished tying off your braid, tucking it back from your face.

“I’m pleased to know you, Mercy.”

“One must master oneself to master the force, my young apprentice.” He had told you as he helped you with your new Padawan robes, “and one must always present oneself the way they wish to be viewed. Project strength, and you will be seen as strong even when you do not feel it. Project regality, and you will be treated with the respect you deserve, despite your youth. Poise and elegance are important for not only consular abilities, but also your lightsaber training, and your force abilities.”

Your Padawan braid swayed against your neck, and you were tempted to tuck it behind your ear to keep it from tickling your skin, but you don’t want to move. You want your Master to know how seriously you take his instruction. You want to prove yourself to him. The journey is long, with a jump through hyperspace that threatens to knock you over, though you use your prehensile tail to balance yourself. Four hours you stand behind your Master and the pilot, who had initially attempted to argue on your behalf that you be allowed to sit. It was kind and thoughtful of him, though you had insisted that you would be perfectly fine standing before your Master could even respond. His approving smile warmed you enough to keep you standing even when your legs began to go numb.

Your arrival upon the small planet is greeted with much pomp and circumstance, and your Master rests a strong hand between your shoulder blades to support you as you walk through the streets of a bustling market. The sights and smells are nearly overwhelming after a lifetime of the cool serenity of the Jedi Temple, but you try to act unbothered and simply wrap your tail around your leg to keep it from getting in the way. You’re too tired for it to truly overwhelm you. Perhaps that had been the point. If you were being honest with yourself, you remember very little about your first mission considering it had largely been a diplomatic mission between your Master and the hierarchy of the planet. Your fondest memories are largely unrelated to your actual goal upon the planet.

Your Master calmly introduced you to the wealth of indulgences available in the small market, starting with a meal in a restaurant by the shipyard which he informed you was your first reward for your impressive standing meditation upon the ship. He ordered several dishes to share, calmly explaining what each food was and the way it should taste as you ate. When you mentioned that the Council might see it as an overindulgence, he simply smiled at you with an eyebrow cocked and asked, “Is the Council here, my young Padawan?” You giggled, taking another bite of a sweet fruit that made your mouth water to hide your excitement.

After your meal, your Master bought you a tin of candy from a booth with a shopkeeper who smiled bright as the sun as she handed it over to you. He bought you a bead for your braid to celebrate your first mission, and a lovely copper-coloured cuff for your tail that was originally meant to be a bracelet. He told you stories of some of his previous missions, and his last Padawan many years ago who was now a Jedi Master in his own right. After meeting with the leaders of the planet and completing the mission, he took you back to the cruiser, however he did not make you stand this time. Instead, he sat with you in the small cargo hold and showed you how to massage the pain from your legs after a busy day. He promised you that while he would demand a lot from you, he would always take care of you.

And you believed him.

For a long, long time, it was true. Your Master taught you his preferred lightsaber form, Form II - Makashi. He praised your elegance with the blade, your prowess with the force, and your poise in the face of all obstacles. He bought you more small indulgences, like hair oils and creams with bacta that would help soothe your aching muscles after a hard day. He filled your datapad with countless books about the force, or history, or poetry. With each one you read, he would indulge you in grand, invigorating discussions that often gave you new perspectives and made you feel more equal with your Master. He brought you to see a couple of plays in the grand theatre on Coruscant, along with an opera for your eleventh birthday.

Your Master disagreed often with the Council, and had many indulgences unbefitting of a Jedi. He was stern when you made mistakes, and far more demanding than many of the other Masters, but he was so nurturing every step of the way that you truly excelled under his tutelage. He would drill you for hours in lightsaber training until you could barely stand, then make you sit in meditation for hours longer until your body ached. He pushed you further than other Padawans your age, and if questioned about it he would simply tell you that you were better than them, and thus more would be expected of you. He made you sit under waterfalls until your body was numb, or balance in a one-handed handstand while using the force to hold rocks in levitation. He expected perfection. And yet, he always rewarded you for meeting his standards. He would rebraid your Padawan braid with new beads and clasps with each achievement, and praise you for your skills. On a mission to a rather rich, lush planet, he bought you a new cloak in your favourite colour to wear over your brown and cream robes.

When you were twelve, you presented as an Alpha, and your Master smiled proudly as he wiped the sweat from your brow and tucked you into bed. He gave you scent blockers in the form of patches for the scent glands on your neck, and cream for anywhere else. He gave you rut blockers to take every day, and explained their importance. Not once did he falter or appear embarrassed in his explanations of your dynamic. Despite the heavy scent of your rut filling the room, he was perfectly composed as he braided your hair to keep it from getting tangled while you rested.

“I knew it.” He said, “You will be a strong Alpha, regal and poised. A paragon of your designation.”

Your Master brought you a robe of his, knowing it would provide comfort as the blockers took effect. Thankfully, you’d only have to endure a couple of hours of this torment. He brought you water, and your favourite foods, cheekily putting a finger to his grinning lips as if to shush you as he did. As if you’d ever tattle on him to the Council.

The following morning, after a long turn in the fresher, you finally felt like yourself again. You took your bedding and clothes to do the laundry, then applied your scent blocker carefully in the mirror. You were sitting on the cushion in the shared space of your rooms when your Master finally joined you. He carefully settled down across from you, his force signature brushing against yours through your training bond to assure himself that you were alright before he sank into meditation with you. When you were feeling calm and collected, and balanced within the force, you finally spoke.

“You have let me waste the morning away. I have training to get to. I am ready, Master Dooku.”

#obi-wan kenobi x alien reader #obi-wan kenobi #reader character is an alien species so appearance has some set features #I acknowledge that this may fall more under OC due to the physical description so adding that tag #obi-wan kenobi x original character #obi-wan kenobi x oc #obi wan kenobi x reader

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mandalhoerian · 2 months

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sw oc moots... save me...

sw oc moots

save me sw oc moots

#BEGGING BE MY FRIEND PLEASE #star wars oc #star wars x oc #is there a discord... pls #anakin skywalker x oc #anakin skywalker x original character #anakin skywalker x reader #obi-wan kenobi x oc #obi wan kenobi x oc #padme amidala x oc #star wars prequels #mandalorian oc #TAG TAG TAG

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khadrimxart · 2 months

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Some more beach art of Leigh Vanukar and Obi-Wan Kenobi. After a celebration on Everra, they find a quiet moment together on the beach in front of where they're staying. They admire the stars together- and get close, far, far too close. <3

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galacticwildfire · 10 months

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Star Wars Masterlist 💫

Boba Fett 🔫

Series

Lost (Prequel to Found)

Din Djarin 🩶

Series

Found

Headcanons

NSFW Alphabet

Imagines/One Shots/Prompts

“Let me take care of you”

Koska Reeves 💙

Headcanons

Fluff/NSFW Headcanons

Obi-Wan Kenobi 👨🏻‍🦰

Series

Illicit Affairs

Headcanons

Fluff/NSFW Headcanons

Poe Dameron 🚀

Series

Fire Meet Gasoline

Headcanons

NSFW Alphabet

Star Wars OC Character Boards

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where-fantasy-meets-reality · 5 months

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"We're Not Promised Tomorrow." Chapter 20 "...How Do I Say I'm Sorry?"

Pairing: Obi-Wan x Fem. OC

W/C: 5.2 K

Warnings: lots of angst, injuries, fighting, high emotions, blood, panic, stress.

A/N: Happy New Year everyone. I hope the holidays were good to you all and if you do not celebrate then I hope the season was filled with lots of joy, laughter, and good vibes. The angst train continues in the chapter but this is its last stop (for now evil smile) after this chapter, the fit will turn a coroner into one of my favorite parts of this whole fic. If you have made it this far, I appreciate you sticking with it. Thank you all for any support that you give and happy reading.

Masterlist can be found here.

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Emily had cleaned her whole apartment, sterilized everything, and had thrown away Obi-Wan's torn and bloody tunic.

She placed his boots next to her tea table, folded his pants, belt and gathered his lightsaber, placing them on one of the sitting chairs in her living room

It was late; by her recollection, it had to have been at least a half hour after midnight. She was exhausted and emotionally drained. The dull throb in her head seemed to match the pain in her soul.

The 7 P.M sparring session felt like it was a lifetime ago but it had been only hours since the incident.

She had checked on Obi and he was sleeping soundly. He didn’t have a fever anymore and she had used the Force to again assess his injuries. His nose was almost completely healed and his insides were improving. Thank the Maker for Bacta.

Emily had changed her clothes when she had stopped by her room. She changed into her clean black sparring pants and a white short-sleeved top and laid down on the couch in the darkness of her apartment; the only light that came in came from the floor-to-ceiling windows that brought the chaotic, outside world of Coruscant inside in her sanctuary.

The fight that happened earlier in the evening seemed like forever ago...but the ache in her heart was as strong as it was the minute Sorv had entered the Arena and challenged Obi. Rolling over, she buried her face in the pillow and pulled her blanket up over her head, creating a cocoon of safety. She wanted to kick down the door of her bedroom and run to him. To throw her arms around him and break down all over again. To be completely vulnerable with her person was something she needed right now, even if she was royally pissed at her person.

She was so happy that he was alive and going to be okay. Yet, She also wanted to scream at him and tell him what an inconsiderate jerk he had been. Additionally, he acted like a complete macho, overprotective, stubborn male peacock who needed to strut his stuff to prove a point.

Attempting to sort through her emotions and control them (like a good Jedi) she allowed her mind to wander as she rolled back over and stared at the scenery outside of her wall of glass. The lights twinkled on the buildings and spreaders raced in all directions; it was truly the planet that never slept.

“Maybe he was right. Maybe Jedi aren’t supposed to have personal relationships. It’s not like we have training with how to handle ourselves with our own emotions....let alone other people's emotions.”

She drifted off to sleep as her stomach twisted itself in knots.

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Emily could feel distress around her. It was bearing down on her as if it was trying to suffocate and swallow her. She had become hot and sweating. Restless from tossing and turning, as if she was trying to fight whatever was bearing down on her; It was as if her body was trying to burn itself from the inside out.

The feeling of sweating and burning woke her up, causing her to sit upright and gasping for air, fighting the suffocation. For as hot as she had been in the dream, when she woke up, the apartment air was cool and the mood peaceful. Assessing herself, she wasn’t even warm or that sweaty... nothing like what she felt while asleep. She looked around confused.

Her t-shirt and pants were dry, with no sweat or liquid present.

She extended herself through the Force, still confused. Had it just been a dream or a vision?

No, the source of heat and stress was coming from the apartment; that was shown to her through the Force. She could feel the pull of heat and an oppressive weight centering around her.

She tried to follow its weight to the source, her eyes darting around her quiet apartment. When her eyes landed on her bedroom door, it felt as if her head were on fire.

“OBI-WAN!” She gasped in a panic.

She vaulted off the couch and sprinted the short distance into her room, practically breaking the door open with the speed and weight she hit it with.

She burst into the doorway and found him in a pool of sweat and fidgeting in his sleep.

“No, no, no, no, no, I thought we were past this!” She hissed as she ran to him and ripped the covers off of him.

Turning, she ran out of the room to her refresher and grabbed two big towels and a small one. She turned on the faucets and soaked them in cold water. Emily ran back to her and placed the cold towels along his body.

She laid the compress on his forehead, dabbing at the sweat, and then sprinted to the galley-style kitchen to grab some ice and more towels.

Making two makeshift ice packs, she placed one on top of the forehead compress and the other by his side, the two main sources of heat.

She was already tired and worn out and didn’t know how much use she was going to be so the ice and cold compresses would help her bring down his fever naturally, buying her more time and wiggle room.

Kneeling, she placed her hands on his chest and stomach and started commanding the Force to flow through her.

She visualized everything she loved about him. His smile, those amazing blue eyes that gleamed like the oceans on Naboo, his wit and his corny jokes...how he was always a gentleman; usually so full of care, love and gentleness. The way he silently cared so much about his friends. What a great Jedi he was; centered, balanced, and brave.

Oh, how much she loved him; If love was tangible. She visualized the fever being cooled from his body, visualized her mending his muscles and tissue, healing him.

She had sat there and commanded continuous use of the Force for hours and hours. She would not give up on him despite how she felt about him at the moment. She had loved him her whole life, she would die trying to save him if she had to.

Emily felt like she was losing her grasp on reality. She had never healed someone for this extended amount of time. She was becoming woozy and she felt like her energy was draining itself from her body.

She was unaware of his state as her head slumped forward and she passed out.

The sunlight was coming through the blinds as it peaked into the bedroom apartment.

Emily had passed out on the floor, her head still resting on the side of the bed, hands still on his stomach and chest. The cold, wet towels had pruned her skin and made her shiver.

There was a faint beeping noise that was bothering her, causing her to wake up.

It wasn’t coming from the bedroom, it sounded from somewhere else in the apartment.

She was too tired to move. Maybe if she ignored it would stop? Then she could just go back to sleep.

After two minutes of continuous buzzing and beeping she begrudgingly got up and stumbled into her living room.

The sound was coming from Obi-Wan’s pants.

She sleepily fumbled with them until she found a comlink in his pants pocket.

“Master Kenobi’s Comlink.” She said groggily.

“Who is this?” The voice on the other end sounded.... hostile... accusing and even a bit...stunned... as if they weren’t expecting her to answer; which in fairness to them, they weren't.

Their tone caused her to become more alert.

“Who is this? You called this line?” She didn’t want to give anything away that she didn’t have to.

“This is Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, his mission partner... Now I ask again, who are you?”

She relaxed.

“Hi Anakin, sorry for the guessing games, it’s Master Marblu.”

There was a pause; he didn’t answer right away.

“Hi, Emily.” He sounded lighter, more smug sounding. She pictured that stupid, self-satisfied smile she was probably wearing.

“Is Obi-Wan there? He was supposed to meet us at the hangar for a mission this morning, and he’s late….very late. Considering he's never late for anything, I knew something had to be up.”

Someone was giggling in the background…Emily listened harder...yes it was definitely a girl giggling.

“I don’t think he’s gonna make it to the mission today, Anakin. He was in an accident last night in the Arena. We were sparring and he did something stupid and he’s pretty injured. He’s sleeping right now and he couldn’t move if he wanted to.”

“Is he alright?!” Anakin's tone had changed quickly from amusement to worry.

“He is fine now. He was worse last night. Like I said, he’s sleeping and his injuries are healing for the most part. I patched him up last night, I have a med kit in my apartment. Are you able to do the mission without him? I could step in if you need me to.”

She didn’t want them to worry about him if she could get him on the mend and keep him there. She additionally didn’t want to leave him alone in her apartment in that condition, but she didn’t want his team stranded either. Maybe Xira could babysit him while she was gone if she had to?

“No, that's okay Emily, but thank you. You just take care of him for us while we’re gone. We’ll be back tomorrow afternoon and we’ll check in on him. Keep me posted if you need anything, I’m always here.”

“Thanks Anakin. I’ll keep you posted and he’s in good hands, I promise I’ll take good care of him.”

“Well now, don’t take care of him too well if you know what I mean, he’ll become spoiled.”

Now he and the female voice were laughing. What were they insinuating?

“Bye Anakin and Ashoka.” She spoke in a sing-song, teasing tone. She had a hunch of what they were getting at despite them supposedly being in the dark.

“Bye Emily.” He teased her back.

The comlink disconnected.

Well there was no going back to sleep after that, she was awake now for sure.

She noticed that the chronometer in the bedroom read 8:30 A.M. as she took the towels off of him and put them in the hamper in the refresher. His bandages would need to be changed again but she didn’t want to wake him up just for that yet, it could wait a while longer.

She made herself a cup of cinnamon tea but kept the pot boiling; he’d be awake soon and knew how he'd love a cup.

She had a blend that she had gotten from another healer in the Medical Wing that was specifically designed to help speed up the healing process as it was loaded with special vitamins and herbs.

She was sitting on her couch reading the morning news on her datapad when she heard the bed shift and squeak in her room.

“He would try to get up by himself.” She huffed irritatedly, rising to her feet.

“Nope; lay back down.” She commanded as she briskly walked back into her room.

He ignored her.

She placed her hands on his shoulders and gingerly forced him back on the pillows.

“There’s nothing you need that I can’t get for you.” She told him, sitting down on the side of the bed as she helped him settle himself.

He made a grumpy "hmph" sound as he fumbled with the covers.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, touching his forehead. His skin felt the coolest it had since the event.

She took his face in her hands and titled it slightly in different directions to examine his nose. “Your nose has healed and isn’t broken anymore, so that’s good.”

He sighed as he surrendered to her fussing.

“I’m fine, I just wanted to get up and stretch... you don’t have to help me. I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“No, you need to stay put.”

He put his head back on the pillow and huffed in annoyance again. If she hadn't been so angry with him from the night before, she would be amused with all the huffing he was doing. Like an annoyed Bantha calf who was being smothered by his mother.

His groggy voice brought her out of her daydream of a little Bantha calf taking a temper tantrum. “What was the horrid beeping noise this morning?”

As soon as he asked the question, a wave of recognition washed over him causing him to jolt forward and grab her hand despite the dull ache of pain in his side.

“THE COMLINK! I’M LATE FOR A MISSION!” He tried to use her as leverage to get out of the bed but she stopped him.

“Easy killer, easy. They already called looking for you and I sent them off without you, you need your rest, plus you couldn’t go in this condition if you wanted to.”

He formed the same irritated expression that was on his face during their fight last night.

“You answered my comlink? What was your excuse for having it? Where was I? What did you tell them? And that wasn't your call to make...”

“Slow down and calm down. First off, I told Anakin that you were hurt because you did something very stupid in the Arena last night, which you did, and that you were too injured to show up today. I told him I had to take you back to my apartment to heal you and I was letting you sleep. And guess what, like the independent, big boy he is, Anakin wished you well and went on his mission with Ahsoka and the troops. I told him enough of the truth and surprisingly well it works well...when people listen.” She smiled a sarcastic smile.

He rolled his eyes and looked away from her. “He has a big mouth, he probably found it amusing that you answered and now he won’t be able to keep his mouth shut about it; fantastic.”

“Mmmmm I disagree. He was amused, that’s for sure but I think you're making a bigger deal out of it than he did. Nothing incriminating happened last night, for once, and we can honestly abide by that story if we have to. Someone’s bound to notice the damage in the Arena and the trail of blood that you dripped from the Arena to my apartment. ” She folded her arms across her chest.

He shook his head and chose to move on and drop it. He was tired, sore, and still angry about the previous evening. Yet, one fight with Emily was enough for a lifetime, never mind two in less than 24 hours. As angry as he was, he didn't want to fight with her again if he could help it.

His hands felt the sheets on the bed that were still cold and wet.

Changing the subject, she scoffed at the annoyance of damp, cold sheets. “Why is the bed all wet and cold?”

“You were running a very high fever at various points in the night. I grabbed a bunch of towels and ice packs and threw them on you... I sat down to heal you and further bring it down too. Last I remember it was about 4 in the morning and I was blacking out from exhaustion.”

There was no emotion in her words. They were blank and matter-of-fact. Like he was just another patient again. She had kept up that demeanor since last night. Obi-Wan knew what she was doing; she was detaching herself from her emotions to not fight with him either.

His eyes snapped to hers, “You had to heal me again?….." His mind started racing as he was now fully processing her words. You were able to hold out for that long after everything that happened last night? For almost two hours?” Unlike her, his expression and voice was full of emotion as he was starting to understand what it means when someone loves you.

“Yup.” Short, sweet, and to the point was still her preferred method of speaking to him.

Before he could say anything else she got up from the bed. “I want you to drink a cup of tea, it's a special health blend from a friend who’s a healer and will help you get better quicker, so no arguments. We can't have you hanging around in this bed forever." She spoke to him from over her shoulder as she left the room.

Leaning back against his pillow, he let out a long deep breath and blinked rapidly; he was misty-eyed. That’s three times now in 24 hours she saved his life or sacrificed herself or her well-being for him.

While he was still being a total jerk....an ass....completely terrible to her. Even though he could tell that she was insanely angry at him, she had done everything to save his life. He knew she still felt this way, if he extended himself, he could feel it in their bond and her in her Force signature.

“Because that’s what you do when you love someone you fool. You stand by them and take care of them through thick and thin....even when they do not deserve it." He stared at the ceiling.

Alright, enough now Kenobi. Be a man, when she comes back you need to use your words. You are always preaching to Anakin about patience, humility, and using your words. It's time to listen to your own teachings matter how difficult it is." ” He spoke to himself, self-loathing brimming. However, this new experience did give him a new perspective on Anakin's Padawan years.

Emily came back shortly after his thoughts had settled with a steaming mug of the ruby-colored tea. “Drink.” She commanded as she handed it to him.

Normally, he liked tea and this one was very pleasing. Fruity, with a hint of spice; very flavorful. He took two large sips and could feel the warmness spreading through his body. It tingled as it flowed through him.

He closed his eyes, relishing in the relief it brought.

“Wow, this stuff really works...I can feel it going through me, and I've only had two sips...”

“Keep going; finish the whole thing.” It was a pointed order from her.

He wanted to talk to her instead of focusing on the tea, that was more important to him. But if he knew her, she wouldn’t let him do anything until the cup was finished.

He took the rest of it in large gulps that burned his throat, but he didn’t care.

He placed the mug on her bedside table. Rising slightly and shifting his position to be more at eye level with her, he took her hands in his.

His touch caught her by surprise; and threatened to make her crack; allowing all the emotions she had been holding back to burst. She was still angry at him, figuring her curtness had communicated that. She had stuffed all of her emotions down and was being a “good Jedi.”

That is until he touched her and he looked at her with those eyes that made her heart stop beating, reminding her of a calm ocean after a rocky storm.

She tried to pull away from him, but he put up a gentle resistance, keeping her in place.

“Please. Don’t run from me.” Obi-Wan whispered to her. His glossy blue eyes looked at her seriously.

She could see the sadness in them and could feel it in his Force signature. His voice was soft and quiet as if he was afraid to use it.

“What is it? I'm sure whatever it is, it can wait, you need your rest.” Her voice was raspy and throaty. She shifted her eyes to his hands, if she looked at his face instead with those beautiful eyes, she was going to become emotional again and she was tired of crying. The rollercoaster of emotions had taken its toll on her.

Yet Obi-wan held fast. He moved so that he held both her hands in one of his, and used his other hand to lift her chin, ever so gently, so that their eyes met. “I owe you the biggest apology. Emily…you saved my life three times yesterday, and if you hadn’t done it the first time, then you wouldn’t have been able to do it the other two times. I was able to have that fight with you because you saved my life, and I chose to take the path of frustration, arrogance, and anger in the moments when I should have been thanking you and telling you how grateful I am to you; because I am grateful. I am so incredibly grateful...Throughout his childhood, I was always there for Anakin, but no one was there for me in that way....he was like Padawan, kid brother and son all mixed into one. I didn't know someone could love me that deeply to you...My Darling; sometimes I can't believe that someone loves me enough, let alone that you are that someone...that you love me enough to fight back for me like that, to push yourself to your brink more than once, for me.”

Her lip started to quiver.

"I love you more than anything...but please, you have to understand why I am so angry with you....even if I shouldn't be. Please tell me you understand how you have not made yourself a target of that sick and vile human....the thought of him makes my skin crawl and my blood boil...I almost can't bear it..."

His eyes bore into hers as he gripped her hands tighter. "why Em? Why did you do that? He's going to harass and toy with you every opportunity he gets... His focus was on me and I was trying to keep it there..."

Emily’s eyes were watering. “......He was hurting you….” The tears started falling rapidly as her breath came out erratic gasps.

That was it. It sounded so basic, so simple; but it was no less true. She would never let anyone hurt him if she could help it. It didn't matter that it was someone who was once a friend and fellow Jedi, but had now become a borderline vindictive and manipulative psychopath.

Obi-Wan softened. He couldn't stand to see her cry, and she had been doing so much of that lately.

Leaning forward, he used his thumb to wipe away every tear that fell from her warm and gentle chocolate eyes.

As she attempted to control her breathing, He gave her that half-smile he was famous for.

“It seems as if someone is as protective of me as I am of them.”

They chuckled together while he now held her face in his hands. His thumbs continued to dry her tears...the lightsaber-worn pads of his thumbs rubbed themselves soothingly into her skin.

“Emily, the thought of leaving you alone in life makes me worried sick. If I had died, my last thoughts would have been about you. How much I love you and how sick with regret and worry I would be that now I can’t be there for you, that you would have been at his mercy in that moment ... I know what I did was wrong, I should have listened to you and denied his challenge.....Yet I don’t regret fighting him, he needs to be stopped and I wanted it to be me who did it. I’m sorry, I’m still angry about what happened. I don’t like what you did. Just as you had to witness your fears last night, one of mine is not being able to protect you; it’s who I am and I won't apologize for it. Now that you stepped in, you technically have to fight him to finish the challenge. He’s not going to forget about that.”

“I’m still upset too. If you hadn’t accepted then none of this would have happened. I told you to just walk away, and everything would have been fine. I understand why you’re upset, that you don’t want me to fight him because he’s unstable, but I couldn’t let him hurt you, I just couldn't, I snapped. I’m sorry, I was scared and angry. Then when you started yelling at me, between what Sorv did, Mual's visions, and what I saw during the fight, I just lashed out at you in anger, I said things I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry.”

She removed his hands from her face and held them.

Obi-Wan returned the jester, holding her hands lovingly. “Then let's agree to disagree because we aren’t going to get anywhere; we were both right and we were both wrong it sounds like. We had our reasons for the way we reacted. To be perfectly honest, I can’t fight with you. It hurts me too much and it’s a waste of time because it’s not going to solve or change anything. Not only that, we’re allowing him to come between us, and I won’t allow that, not him. If we’re going to fight then let it be about something better than him. I’m sorry I was horrible and rude. Thank you so much for being there for me. My Dear, I love you. If this situation comes up again, I pray I’m around. I’ll let you do what you feel you have to do when the time comes because I do know you can handle yourself, but I will step in and end it if I have to; I’m done with his games.”

She leaned forward and gently hugged him, mindful of his side. Her head was buried in the crook of his neck. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned back so that they were resting on the pillows.

“Obi-Wan there isn’t anything you can’t protect me from. You’ve never failed me. The reason you failed last night was because you fought fair and he didn’t. You aren't a monster like he is and I don’t know if you ever could be, but that’s why I love you and not him. I don’t want you to be a monster. Yes, I agree. We did what we did, it is what it is and we have our reasons. If he comes back looking for another round, we’ll go from there. But honestly, I don’t know if I even accept his challenge, it’s not worth it. He’s not right in his mind; I’d rather involve the council sooner rather than later.”

She couldn’t see his face, she was still buried in him. He raised his eyes to the heavens and thanked the Force she didn’t feel the need to go after Sorv. He wouldn't stop her from accepting his challenge, because that would be the double standard that they argued about, but he’d absolutely go with her to the challenge. Knowing that she would have to fight that madman made him want to turn into a monster if it meant protecting her.

He placed a loving kiss into her hair. “We’ll go from here if it ever comes up again. We seem to have an understanding. For now, let's move on. My time with you is more precious and important than to waste it arguing about him and his foul games. I love you, I will always protect you, and stand by you. Always.”

She lifted her head and kissed his lips. “Why do you get to have the big mushy lines that quell my anger and suddenly I’m in love with you all over again?” She was smiling.

“Ah, because that’s just it My Love. I’m a stupid fool who is hopelessly and uncontrollably in love with you. And unfortunately for you, My Dear, you happen to love this fool back. I mean...I’m irresistibly handsome and charming so you have no shot of resisting me and I get infinite chances at making you smile again.” He teased her.

He closed the distance and attempted to kiss her but she was laughing. He still kissed her anyway.

Emily giggled, turning into his advances, and easily found his lips.

“I don’t know about infinite chances but you might be onto something with the charming and handsome part. And you're right. I do love you back. Sometimes I’m scared at how much I love you back and maybe it’s okay that you know that.” His beard tickled her as snuggled back into him.

He held her close and rested his forehead against hers. The day had started with them being miles apart from one another even though they were under the same roof. Now, the distance was gone and their hearts were whole.

They lay there for the morning, drifting in and out of sleep, content to be next to one another.

By early afternoon she had changed his bandages. She ran to his apartment and grabbed him a new, clean tunic. They changed and dressed and went to speak to the Jedi Council.

They gave their somewhat altered, slightly rehearsed statement of the story together, to Council. Rehearsed and altered only in the sense that they left out their argument and this morning's words of love; everything else was as exactly as it happened.

After they were dismissed, Jedi Master Sorv Deprov was escorted by two temple guards into the Jedi Council Chamber. Normally Obi-Wan sat on the council but given that he was involved in this matter, he was not allowed to sit as an active council member during Sorv’s questioning.

Master Derprov neither accepted or rebutted the charges against him as Master Windu repeated the accusations and Master Yoda questioned him for his side of the story..

When the council spoke to him, the Jedi master in question simply just stared back at them, blankly; void of all emotion.

Luckily for Emily and Obi-Wan, their story matched up with the cracks in the Arena wall and the pool of blood on the ground, because Sorv, mysteriously, had not a scratch on him.

Given the fact that Sorv made no effort to defend himself or add any input to the story, and given his reputation for struggling with aggression, the Council unanimously ruled in Obi-Wan and Emily’s favor.

Sorv was suspended from the field until further notice, temporarily stripped of his clone regiment until his sentence was served, and was confined to the Temple and its grounds. Additionally, he had to engage in group meditation with Master Yoda three times a week to gain control of his anger and emotions.

“I accept my sentence.” Was the only thing Sorv said during his questioning, the empty stair plastered to his face. His eyes were hollow, void of emotion…Master Yoda thought that even rage would be acceptable…normal for the master even…but emptiness ... the elder Jedi found that even more concerning.

“A closer eye I will keep on him, during the meditations, I will.” Yoda thought to himself as he watched the suspicious Jedi be escorted out of the chamber.

@nanagoswife @transcending-time @sillynilly27 @kirstenvldfan21 @the-clones-and-me @tamnight @lucyysthings @naughtyry @nicole-lightfoot

#obi wan kenobi #obi-wan kenobi #obi wan #obi #obi-wan #obi wan fanfiction #obi-wan kenobi fanfic #Obi-Wan angst #obi-wan kenobi x oc #obi-wan x oc #Obi-Wan Kenobi x Fem OC

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arrthurpendragon · 1 year

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Chapter Update 4/14/23

┌────── ⋆. · ☆ · .⋆ ──────┐

I See the Light

└────── ⋆. · ☆ · .⋆ ──────┘

Obi-Wan and Cori'iana came to a stop in the grass clearing that seemed to be sectioned off for the new queen and former monarchs. The wind blew gently, causing Obi-Wan to catch the faint scent of lilacs coming from Cori'iana. He cleared his throat, startling Cori'iana who glanced at him curiously.

"Tickle in my throat," Obi-Wan responded with a soft smile, despite a glance from the former queen telling him that she didn't quite believe him.

"You'll stay here," Cori'iana told him. Her words weren't posed as a question - they were stated as an order. Having spent time with Obi-Wan before, she knew he didn't defy orders lightly.

Obi-Wan nodded his head, which made Cori'iana smile gently. She gently brushed her hand against his arm before she walked away from him, toward the other monarchs. When she was no more than ten steps away from him, she turned to look over her shoulder to make sure he was still there. Obi-Wan arched a brow at her - as if he were questioning why she didn't trust his word. But it wasn't that she didn't trust him. In her experience, people always seemed to leave, even if she had ordered otherwise.

KEEP READING AT WATTPAD

OC Fam Tag: @akabluekat • @noratilney • @misshiraeth98 • @the12thnightproject • @yelenabolevas • @darkwolf76 • @mimikoflamemaker • @bobfloydsbabe • @asirensrage • @getawaycardotmp3 • @juliaswickcrs • @heirsoflilith • @theawesomeloner • @sentineljedi • @phoenix-rising29 • @bravelittleflower • @nixdragon • @rennys-new-life • @allicenthightxwer • @heathersocs • @letthestarssing • @ocappreciationtag • @zeleniafic • @nejires-hado • @kingsmakers • @eddysocs • @chickensarentcheap • @amixedwitch • @alexandra-scribbles • @iron-parkr • @valdrinors • @witchofinterest • @wordspin-shares • @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers • @starcrossedjedis • @heresthefanfiction • @bluebell-winter • @foxesandmagic • @misskatiewrites • @twofacedharveydent • @neet0 • @fanficanatic-tw • @darknightfrombeyond • @drbobbimorse • @trash0saurus • @villain-connoisseur • @sunlitscribe • @ruvaakke • @starryeyes2000 • @bardic-tales • @oneirataxia-girl • @that-demigirl • @water-writings • @reirvival • @endless-oc-creations • @themaradaniels • @fakedatings • @dancingsunflowers-ocs • (wanna be added or removed? Just lemme know)

#ocappreciation #oc: cori'iana sanandrassa #fic: safe & sound #fd: star wars #obi-wan kenobi x oc #chapter update

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wild-karrde · 10 months

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Hope I'm not too late!

I'm submitting "Let Her Sleep" by @agirlunderarock with her OC Sas Vom and Obi-Wan. It takes place while they're friends and before any romantic relationship starts, but it's so clear they're already in love in the day to day ways that couples take care of one another.

It also has a sweet illustration to go with it. I love this whole story with Sas Vom and Obi-Wan so much.

You are never too late friendo (mainly because I just roll to the next week if it's past the Thursday morning deadline. NEVER FEAR!).

This whole concept seems so sweet (also, I am cackling at the AO3 tag of "Obi-Wan x Sleep" on the entire series LOOOOL). I love the idea of a relationship building off of a friendship, especially one where they're already looking out for each other. And I love Sas already. I very much relate to NOT being a morning person, and their banter (and flirting) is great!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

#FANDOM FRIDAY #creator appreciation #fic rec #fanfiction #fanfic #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #obi-wan kenobi #OC Sas #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #obi-wan kenobi x oc #obi-wan kenobi x ofc #obi-wan kenobi x original female character #fluff #hurt/comfort

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misshiraethsworld · 10 months

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10, 14, 15 for Catalea

My queen, Catalea Adonis! Here is a small introduction to her character with her story available to read here:

10. What’s your oc’s greatest weakness?

Catalea's greatest weakness is her child, Nomi. I would elaborate more but... spoilers!

14. Does your oc have any hobbies? How did they get involved in these?

Catalea doesn't have a lot of time to develop any long-lasting hobbies, but while in confinement during her pregnancy, she does pick up music. She wanted to drown out the sound of war around her. She later becomes a significant patron of the arts throughout the galaxy, and only one of her composed pieces is made available to the public. The rest remain a family secret, back in the palace on her home planet, Baethea.

15. What’s your oc’s favorite color? Does this color have any special meaning/symbolism?

Catalea's most worn color is soft, almost lilac, and purple. According to some history books, it is one of the colors of her house and is the color of royalty. It makes her feel regal and in control when facing the Senate or Baethea's High Court. However, when she's more herself, she can be seen wearing more flowy fabrics and lighter hues when she is with Obi-Wan or a member of her family.

ask me a question & spread some positivity!

#answered #cj tag #my ficss #the legend of baethea #fic: heavenly light #ch: catalea adonis #obi-wan kenobi #ewan mcgregor #star wars #obi-wan kenobi x oc #obi-wan kenobi x reader #fanfic #starwarsfanfic #ochub #ocappreciation

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purplefangirl42 · 2 years

Text

To Be a Leader Masterlist

Series Summary: With the Clone Wars just beginning, Lena is put in a position that she never though she’d be in. Stuck fighting a war she wants no part of, she finds herself building new relationships and confronting her fears while trying to keep herself and her loved ones alive.

Main Pairings: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Lena Orim, Keebo Torra/Commander Blaze, Captain Rex/Lena Orim (crossover from Fazed), Crosshair/Lena Orim (crossover from Bad Timing)

Rating: Teen+ (Suggestive themes and violence, but no NSFW content)

General Warnings/Tags: Gen Fic, Found Family, Romance, Complicated Relationships, Canon Typical Violence/Death, Politics, Injury, Suggestive Themes, Implied Sexual Content (no descriptions/fade out), Background Anidala, Background Obitine

Individual chapters will hold more tags and warnings for specific things to narrow them down and avoid spoilers. More tags will be added to the above list if needed.

AO3 Link ~ Taglist ~ Fazed ~ Bad Timing ~

Theme Song for this story

A/N: This fic will crossover with both Fazed and Bad Timing as part of a larger story. It won’t focus as much on those relationships as this is to tell the rest of the story, but elements from both of them will be present here.

Dividers by @eloquentmoon & @djarrex

Prologue ||

#star wars #star wars: the clone wars #obi-wan kenobi #crosshair #tbb crosshair #captain rex #jedi oc #clone trooper oc #original characters #obi-wan kenobi x oc #crosshair x oc #captain rex x oc #fanfiction #masterlist #OC:Lena Orim #TBAL fic

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shrenvents · 8 months

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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."

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cinnamon-galaxies · 6 months

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Dernière Danse

Pairings: Obi-Wan x (opera singer) reader

Warnings/Tags: song fic, romance, affection, deep conversation, both characters kiss

Summary: You are an opera singer and Obi-Wan accompanies you to your home planet to protect you from the bounty hunters pursuing you. When you both visit a place that not only brings back beautiful memories in you, but also has a special influence on you, you both find yourself captured in an enchanting melancholy that feeds the secret affection you hold for each other. In the embrace of the atmosphere, you do what you cherish the most: sing a beautiful song, that unexpectedly leads to a fervent waltz.

Song: "Dernière Danse" by Indila https://youtu.be/sCNbRElkSw8?si=92fJyU9U7k13UrMO

Words: 1.9k

A/n: It took me so long to finish the story and I will probably start a series with short stories about the romance between Obi-Wan and the opera singer.

~~~~~~

The soft glow of the moon bathed the ancient ruins, perched on a hidden cliff, in a silver radiance. Abandoned for millennia, this sacred place had been a sanctuary since your earliest memories. The magic of the ruins revealed itself most profoundly under the cloak of the night, an enchanted aura that drew you in like a long-lost friend. Although your visits had become infrequent since relocating to Coruscant, each return to your family home beckoned you to this hallowed ground.

The weathered murals that adorned the ruins told tales of dramas and ancient fairy tales, capturing your imagination since childhood. Tonight, however, your solitude was interrupted. Obi-Wan Kenobi, a Jedi and a dear friend, accompanied you on this nocturnal pilgrimage. Duty bound him to protect you from the bounty hunters that pursued you, yet it was your idea to share this special place, a testament to the bond you shared.

Your voice, filled with a hint of melancholy, carried the weight of memories as you spoke to Obi-Wan. "As a child, my mother and I spent countless hours here. She told me stories of the ancient civilization that once thrived in these ruins." A fond smile graced your lips, and Obi-Wan observed the light in your eyes with keen interest. The beauty and tranquility of this place seemed to touch a chord within him.

"The Vaarhi, that's what they were called, right?" Obi-Wan recalled, his hand exploring the weathered surface of a stone brick as you nodded in agreement.

"Yes, they are my ancestors."

"Really?" Obi-Wan settled onto a worn brick, his touch absorbing the essence of the aged stone. "The spiritual legacy of the Vaarhi is evident in you."

You chuckled softly, remembering how Obi-Wan had remarked on your spiritual aura when you first met him after a performance. Closing your eyes, you inhaled the night air, momentarily lost in shared memories. In that quiet moment, your mind wandered to the unexpected connection that had grown between you and Obi-Wan. Fate seemed to intertwine your paths at every turn, leading you to a profound understanding. The camaraderie, the shared ideals, and the uncanny similarities in your personalities forged a bond that transcended duty. Despite your growing affection for him, a bitter-sweet realization hung in the air—the Jedi Code forbade the reciprocation of such feelings. But all of your encounters were not mere coincidence, but forget a connection that runs deeper than duty demands. It felt like fate and fate had a curious way of guiding, even when least expected.

The nocturnal symphony of the ruins seemed to echo the complexity of your emotions. The forbidden affections tugged at your heart, yet the night held a quiet reassurance that, for now, you could revel in the shared warmth of the ruins and the profound connection that had woven itself into the fabric of your intertwined destinies.

Your eyes fluttered open, determined to cast aside the intrusive thought that threatened to permeate your mind. Instead, you immersed yourself in the delicate perfume of countless flowers wafting through the air. A symphony of joyful colors and tender emotions enveloped you. "Indeed, Master Kenobi, spirituality courses through my veins. Historical tales, superstitions, and fairy tales evoke a melancholy that eludes verbal expression. It's this connection that allows me to empathize so deeply with my roles in the opera," you explained, turning to face him. His gentle gaze lingered on your silhouette, absorbing the details of your face and the flowing dress that cascaded around your legs like a waterfall.

As your melancholy brushed against him, his aura softened, and you studied his countenance with keen interest. Something stirred in his eyes, and your heart quickened. In the night's gentle illumination, his irises mirrored the bluish hues of the flowers adorning the ruins. A flutter danced in your stomach, prompting you to turn away, wary of revealing too much about yourself and the burgeoning feelings for him. The awareness that he could sense your emotional state added an extra layer of complexity.

With purposeful steps, you reached the cliff's edge. Crooked trees, aged companions of the ruins, lined the slope, guardians of the former temple complex that loomed above the evergreen grassland. In the absence of urban lights, a tapestry of stars unfolded in myriad colors, a celestial display unparalleled in many corners of the planet.

"This place is where my passion for singing was kindled," you shared, turning back to Obi-Wan, who remained a silent observer. A tingling sensation traversed your body, and once again, your stomach fluttered. These were the moments that hinted at a connection beyond what he was willing to acknowledge. The stolen glances, the lingering stares—could he truly believe you were oblivious?

"I can imagine this place has been a wellspring of inspiration for you," Obi-Wan replied, briefly diverting his gaze to the surroundings. "It's a rare beauty, unlike many places I've visited."

"It's profoundly special to me. A haven of tranquility, seldom frequented by others. Being here grounds me and brings me closer to my roots," you explained, moving away from the cliff to settle on a stone opposite Obi-Wan. His eyes followed your every movement. Yes, it was a sanctuary for you, and that's precisely why you had brought him here.

You drew in another deep breath, and began to sing, the haunting melody weaving through the quiet night. The song, a familiar refrain that echoed through these ancient ruins ever before, held lyrics filled with sadness and heartbreak—but at the same time, was equally beautiful.

"Ô ma douce souffrance. Pourquoi s'acharner? Tu r'commences. Je n'suis qu'un être sans importance. Sans lui, je suis un peu paro. Je déambule seule dans l'métro."

Obi-Wan, captivated by the ethereal sound, held his breath as your voice painted the air. It was a sound he had heard many times before, yet each rendition enthralled him anew. Your voice, incomparably beautiful, possessed an unforgettable and haunting quality that silenced his thoughts like a siren's song. Unable to tear his gaze away, he found himself entirely entranced.

"Une dernière danse. Pour oublier ma peine immense. Je veux m'enfuir que tout r'commence. Ô ma douce souffrance."

The lyrics, tinged with emotions that reached deep within, were a poignant declaration of your romantic feelings for Obi-Wan. While you had sung for him before, subliminally during an opera performance, this time was different. It was an intimate moment meant solely for him, and the weight of it hung in the air.

You shifted your gaze, peering beyond the ancient trees to the horizon where the sea of stars unfolded. As the refrain left your lips, your voice reached its zenith, yet still withholding a fraction of its full potential.

"J'remue le ciel, le jour, la nuit. Je danse avec le vent, la pluie. Un peu d'amour, un brin de miel. Et je danse, danse, danse, danse, danse, danse, danse."

Enchanted by the spellbinding melody, Obi-Wan gracefully rose from his seat and approached you. A gentle smile adorned his face as he extended his hand, seamlessly intertwining with yours. In a fluid motion, he drew you to your feet, one hand securely holding yours, while the other rested on your waist, eliciting a delightful shiver of excitement.

"Et dans le bruit, je cours et j'ai peur. Est-ce mon tour? Revient la douleur. Dans tout Paris, je m’abandonne. Et je m'envole, vole, vole, vole, vole, vole, vole."

Obi-Wan's eyes locked onto yours, and with the onset of the next verse, he initiated a dance, pulling you into a surprising rhythm. You followed his lead, visibly taken aback; it was the first time witnessing his dance, a revelation that defied your expectations. You never imagined he would, let alone possess the skill you were now witnessing.

"Que d’espérance. Sur ce chemin en ton absence. J'ai beau trimer, sans toi ma vie n'est qu'un décor qui brille, vide de sens."

Lost in the depths of each other's eyes, you both shared a profound gaze. As if ensnared by an unseen force, you found it impossible to look away, losing yourself in the infinite galaxies reflected in his gaze. The gentle and loving smile on Obi-Wan's lips conveyed a message that transcended mere friendship, echoing the depth of emotions that unfolded in the dance of the night.

With each note of the ensuing chorus, your steps took on a newfound extravagance. Across the ancient stones, you and the Jedi glided seamlessly, your voice ascending to meet the night's gentle breeze. The moonlit waltz evolved into a dance of emotions, a symphony of harmonious steps, weaving an unspoken narrative as the hem of your long dress swirled through the air, lightly brushing against both your and Obi-Wan's legs.

"J'remue le ciel, le jour, la nuit. Je danse avec le vent, la pluie. Un peu d'amour, un brin de miel. Et je danse, danse, danse, danse, danse, danse, danse. Et dans le noise, je cours et j'ai peur. Est-ce mon tour? Revient la douleur. Dans tout Paris, je m’abandonne. Et je m'envole, vole, vole, vole, vole, vole, vole."

In an instant, Obi-Wan cast aside all pretenses. Locking his gaze onto your beautiful visage, he guided you into a graceful spin, disregarding everything—reality, his duties, and the Jedi code. All he desired was to be near you and savor the present moment. It wasn't just your enchanting voice; it was the fervor in your dance that wholly captivated him.

As the third verse echoed in the night, you began to toy with your voice, releasing notes that resonated heavenly, traversing the ruins, the cliff, and far beyond. Gathering all your emotions and the love you harbored for Obi-Wan, you expressed them through your high, soaring tones. It was an unmistakable message, one reflected in his eyes. He comprehended every nuance of your expression, the declaration of love entwined with the ache simmering within you, intensified by the realization that your love was forbidden in this world.

"Dans sette douce souffrance. Dont j'ai payé toutes les offenses. Écoute comme mon cœur is immense. Je suis une enfant du monde."

As your message resonated with Obi-Wan, his grasp on your hand and hips tightened, his gaze conveying a myriad of emotions. It spoke volumes about your significance to him, the emotions you stirred within him, and the profound desires hidden beneath the surface.

With the final rendition of the chorus, you infused the last ounce of emotion and power into your voice. Your wide eyes locked onto Obi-Wan as he gracefully twirled you through one pirouette after another.

"J'remue le ciel, le jour, la nuit. Je danse avec le vent, la pluie. Un peu d'amour, un brin de miel. Et je danse, danse, danse, danse, danse, danse, danse. Et dans le bruit, je cours et j'ai peur. Est-ce mon tour? Revient la douleur. Dans tout Paris, je m’abandonne. Et je m'envole, vole, vole, vole, vole, vole, vole."

With the final note resonating in the air, Obi-Wan orchestrated a concluding twirl. Your dress cascaded like a radiant veil, exuding an elegance surpassing that of a billion moons and stars. In the midst of the dance, you felt the sense of freedom coursing through your limbs, all while under the careful watch of the Jedi. There was also a sense of relief, because of the secret you have now unveiled.

As the momentum waned, Obi-Wan guided you back with deliberate ease. In one seamless motion, he drew you closer, releasing his hand from your hip. At the last syllable escaping your lips, his now-free hand cradled the back of your head, initiating a kiss.

Without hesitation, you leaned into the tender yet passionate exchange. A cosmic explosion of sensations surged within you as the long-awaited dream became true. Your hands traced over his tunica, threading through his hair, drawing him nearer. In that moment, all you yearned for was the eternity of this embrace.

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hereticpriest · 3 months

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Mercy Chapter Seven: Heat

Rating: Explicit 18+

MDNI

Relationship: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Chapter warnings: Canon-typical violence, small injuries, first time/virgin sex and associated awkwardness, oral sex (m receiving), handjobs (m and f receiving), p in v sex. Let me know if I am missing anything!

Read on AO3

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six

Chapter Seven: Heat

Your descent down the mountain is much less difficult than your ascent, however, Obi-Wan has begun to get further into his pre-heat and you know you are running out of time. By the time you reach the bottom again, you are beginning to see the effects in your strong, stoic Omega. You’re proud of him - you can feel his emotions and snippets of his pain through your bond, and yet he hasn’t complained once. You bring him back to the stream and strip off everything but your cloak and robes to keep yourself covered while you quickly and efficiently wash both of your clothes in the swiftly running water. Thank the Stars you had a bar of soap in your medical kit along with antibacterial rinse for field cleanliness. Each article of clothing is hung over a tree branch while you work, and Obi-Wan keeps an eye out around you before going further upstream so he can fill your filtered waterskins. You keep him in your periphery, ears twitching to catch all of the sound around you, listening for threats.

Once your clothes are clean, you approach your Omega, taking the waterskins from him and putting them down on the bank of the stream. You rip a strip from the bottom of your cloak, dunking it in the stream then wringing it out and using the force to give a little tug at Obi-Wan’s robes with a playful smile. Pink blooms in his cheeks and you laugh softly, stepping closer to him.

“Do you mind if I help clean you up a little? I can carry you here if I have to during your heat, but I’d like to get you nice and clean to begin with so you feel more comfortable.” You practically purr, voice low and smoky, the sweetening of his scent growing strong as you speak. Obi-Wan swallows hard, nodding his head as he undoes his belt and drops it, opening his robes to show off his otherwise naked body. His chest is covered in lovely ginger hair, far less sparse than it was when he was young, and you run your fingertips through it impulsively while he shivers. You rub soap into his underarms while he blushes and stammers, as quick and efficient as if he were a patient. It was certainly nowhere near your first time helping clean someone up, but Obi-Wan had always been shy, as typical of most Jedi. You wipe away the residue with your cloth, pausing briefly to scent him again to calm him down before you continue.

His stomach is still covered in the dried remnants of his cum, so you gently run the soap and then the cloth over it, scrubbing gently to get it out of his body hair. His thighs are damp with sweat and slick, so you wipe them down, crouching in front of Obi-Wan in a way that has him stirring. The crease of his thigh and pelvis is next, and Obi-Wan’s face is red when you look up at him. You can feel the hint of shameful joy of being cared for so intimately, of having someone see the most intimate parts of him. Not just see him, but touch him, clean the sweat and slick from his body, smell his desire and the fact that he hasn’t been able to wash since his last sonic shower the day before your ship crashed. The lack of judgement - the love in your eyes - is making him feel so many tangled feelings.

He’s starting to get hard, cock swiftly filling with blood, and you flick your tongue out to lick your lips as you shamelessly wipe down his crotch to get the dried precum out of his pubic hair. Obi-Wan outright shudders as you dip the cloth in the water again, wring it out, then wipe down his balls. His hand grasps at your hair and you laugh softly, bringing your other hand up to grasp a handful of his ass and part his cheeks, drawing a squeak of indignation from him.

“I-I can do this myself.” He reminds you, and you shrug, leaning into his hand on your head, your tail wagging behind you shamelessly.

“I don’t mind, my sweet little Omega, but if you’d rather do it yourself while you’re still coherent…” You shrug, putting the choice in his hands. You would never want to cross his boundaries. Obi-Wan considers for a moment, and you feel his twofold embarrassment through your bond at both the act itself, and the fact that the idea of it is turning him on.

“I… I suppose, if you want to, darling.” He finally mumbles, and you stifle a chuckle to avoid making it worse as you quickly and efficiently clean him up. Once you’re done, you stand and give him a gentle kiss, then shed your cloak and robes completely instead of just leaving them hanging open like you had for Obi-Wan. You feel a sharp tug through your bond, the feeling of blood rushing, an intense need, and so much love it nearly makes you dizzy. You smile to yourself, hanging your clothing up on a tree branch and approaching the stream again. You startle as Obi-Wan steps up behind you, hesitantly placing his hands on your hips.

“May I help you as well?” He asks, and you let out a happy sigh at the idea, giving the cloth a really good scrubbing before wringing it out and handing it over to him with the soap. He takes his time familiarizing himself with your body, washing your underarms while he looks over every inch of you. You instruct him to wash under your breasts, where sweat tends to pool in the breast binding you wear, and he tentatively does, though he does also pause to trace his thumb across your nipples. You laugh, giving him another encouraging kiss.

“You’ll have plenty of time for that later, dearest. We have to get back to our shelter, unfortunately.” You remind him, and he hums his acknowledgement, refreshing the cloth while parting your thighs with a gentle hand. He’s more efficient here, his ears just as pink as the skin he’s washing, and you can feel his desire spiking as he tries to thoroughly but gently clean your cunt and inner thighs of the sweat and slick of the last couple of days. He doesn’t crouch like you had, and you feel the thought almost as if it’s your own, that he worried if he did he’d bury his face there and never stand up again.

Once you’re mostly clean, you both step into the stream to wash the remnants of swamp water from your lower legs and feet. It’s a quick affair, the water too cold to be comfortable for long, but it does inspire you to try and use the Force to wring every last bit of water from your clothes so that you can get redressed quicker. Unexpectedly, it works, and you both get dressed in a shivering rush of laughs and flying fabric. You both only dress in your underwear, pants and undertunics. You won’t need the rest - it’s warm on this planet even at night, and Obi-Wan will need all the fabric he can find to make a suitable nest. You even forgo the breast binding for ease later, wrapping it up in your bag. You find a conveniently shaped rock with a deep enough well for it to act as a basin, filling it with water and carrying it back to the alcove with you while Obi-Wan collects firewood and builds a campfire just outside.

As you’re arranging the makeshift basin with your bags nearby, ensuring everything will be relatively within reach, you hear a breathy whimper at the same time as you feel cramping through your bond. Obi-Wan’s heat is nearly here. His need to nest has been slowly building as you worked, but now, it’s too strong to ignore. He makes his way into the alcove with you, gathering the suitably large pile of clothing you’ve laid towards the back so that he can start arranging his nest. As you finish the campfire he’d started, you notice Obi-Wan fussing with his cloak on the bed of moss and fabric. He’s created a sort of nest from the moss, both of your robes, spare tunics and pants. Now, he’s laying his cloak over it, tucking and fussing until it sits right. Next, he takes your cloak, giving it what appears to be the prime spot in the nest. You smile adoringly, admiring him as he works with what must be a sappy look on your face because as soon as Obi-Wan turns around and catches you, he starts blushing again.

“I’ve never done this before.” He admits, and you shrug, approaching tentatively. Omegas can be protective of their nests even with their Alpha in the early days of a relationship. Obi-Wan seems to calm down as you crawl across the edge of the nest though, reaching for you and pulling you closer to him.

“That’s okay. It looks like you’re doing a wonderful job, dear. It looks very comfy. You’ve done so well with so little to work with.” You praise him, and he beams at you, drawing you into a gentle kiss. Your tail wraps around his ankle instinctively, drawing a happy sigh from your Omega against your lips. You give him another sweet kiss, then slip out of his nest carefully to avoid disturbing it.

“Where are you going?” Obi-Wan whines, and you chuckle, sending him soothing waves through your bond.

“I have to scent the perimeter of our den, dearest. I won’t take long, and I’ll be right here.” You promise, and he nods, but he keeps his gaze on you as he curls up in his nest, “Eat a ration bar, Obi-Wan, you’ll need your energy.”

He obeys you, fetching a ration bar from your bag and eating it politely but quickly while he watches you. You rub against the edge of the alcove, covering the stone in your scent as best as you can, running purely on instinct. You’ve never done this before, but you know you’d tried to when you had your first rut. Master Dooku had stopped you, strong but gentle hands holding your wrists to keep you from sending your scent flooding through the halls of the Jedi Temple. Now, no one will stop you. You have an Omega to protect, sweet as can be in the nest he made in a den you found, just as your instincts demand. You have to mark your den so that anyone that comes anywhere near will know the consequences of getting too close. At a certain point, you will have very little control of how violent your reaction might be.

By the time you’re finished scenting the den, the sun has begun to dip, painting the sky in purples, pinks and orange. Obi-Wan has curled himself up in his nest, rubbing his lower belly as he is wracked by cramping. As you begin to approach your Omega, you get a prickling feeling in the back of your neck. Something is watching you. You know Obi-Wan senses it too because he doesn’t fight you as you gesture for him to stay in the nest when he begins to get up. You growl deeply, your subvocals rolling farther than the sound could ever hope to reach, and Obi-Wan shivers with delight. You can feel it - he’s not afraid with you there to protect him, but his arousal is sharp and tangy in the air.

A creature similar to a loth wolf or a Narglatch creeps out of the darkness, ribs expanding harshly with every breath. It’s a bit bigger than a loth wolf, with large paws tipped in claws that more resemble a nexu more than anything else. Short-haired, with a line of longer hair down its spine leading into its tufted tail. It has the longer snout of a loth wolf and fangs like a raxshir, but you notice lines of teeth down its throat, likely for the purpose of guiding prey down its gullet. It stalks in front of your den, and you growl loudly as you rise to its challenge, baring your teeth at it in an obvious threat display as your tail lashes behind you. Your ears are pinned back to your head, furious to find this dangerous creature so close to your Omega. You kick off your boots by the entrance, dropping your lightsaber into your bag to keep yourself from using deadly force unnecessarily. You step out into the barely lit forest in only your pants and under tunic, and lower into a stance you’ve never used before in your life. It comes naturally, but you don’t recognize it as any form opener you’ve ever heard of. The creature leaps at you, jaws open and snarling, but you duck low and get it round the neck, muscles in your arms rippling as you hold it. Its massive paws slap against your back, claws digging in and ripping open your skin as it scrambles for purchase that will allow it to escape your hold.

You plant your feet, anchoring your grip with one arm while reaching down with the other to grasp at its back legs. Lifting it over your head, you throw the beast into a nearby tree, roaring your dominance. You hope that the hit will be hard enough to make the creature realize you’re not an easy meal, but it comes back for more with drool dripping from its jaws. You smoothly dodge its gaping maw, then reach out with the Force and push it hard into a jagged boulder to the right of the alcove entrance, but this time you follow it. It swipes at you as you come close, rearing back onto its hind legs and smacking you across the face with a paw hard enough that it nearly breaks your nose. You growl, swallowing blood, and this time you pull it down with the Force until it slams into the dirt. You don’t want to kill the beast needlessly - it is just hungry or defending its home like you are. It snaps at you as it tries to stand, and you grab its lower jaw, then wrap an arm around its head to grab the upper jaw with your other hand. Obi-Wan watches as you hold its mouth open, your teeth bared and tail lashing behind you while it tries to snap its jaws closed. Your next growl is all subvocals, nearly inaudible, and the beast ceases fighting beneath you. You hold it still for a moment longer, then shove it down as you step back and release it, in case it decides to keep fighting. Thankfully, the beast seems to decide you're not worth the effort and runs off into the woods, and you can finally take a breath.

You’re dirty, sweat pouring down your back and stinging as it drips into the scratches dug into your skin, but as you approach your hideaway Obi-Wan looks you over with a hunger you feel in your bones. You take a second to start the process of healing yourself, checking your nose to ensure it isn’t broken as you approach. Your Omega’s heat has nearly begun. He kisses the blue blood from your lips, strong hands caressing your hips as he pulls you into the safety of your den. You breathe him in as he checks your back out, ensuring that you’re actually healing yourself instead of being stubborn, then pulls you into his nest to take a quick rest while you both wait for his heat to settle in.

You allow Obi-Wan to curl around you, murmuring praise for how well you protect him, how strong you are, and how attractive it was to see you fighting that creature with your bare hands for him. You doze off to his scent surrounding you, and the firm warmth of his body wrapped around yours, his nose buried in your neck.

Far, far away in the council chambers of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, the Council watches a holo of yourself and Obi-Wan. Your old Master leans forwards in his seat as you tell them about the crash of your ship, and that while you’ve survived, your ship is basically scrap metal at this point. Master Windu hums thoughtfully as you tell them that you are stranded with limited supplies, no scent blockers, and no rut or heat blockers. You, very clinically indeed, tell the Council that Obi-Wan’s heat is nearly here while the man in question tries to look as professional as possible, thankful that the holo can’t translate how red his cheeks are.

“Obi-Wan and I opened up our Force signatures to each other for the first time, and we have discovered that we are Force-mates. I have a feeling few of you will be shocked by this news. I will be bonding with him during his heat. I apologize that I cannot ask permission, however I will do what I must for my Omega. Please inform whoever you send to our rescue not to approach our coordinates relayed through our distress beacon until the customary five days are through - I doubt that will be difficult as the journey here is just over three. I will accept any punishment deemed necessary on behalf of both Obi-Wan and myself when we return to the Temple. May the Force be with you, and whomever you send to our aid.” You end the holo recording on a somewhat somber note, and the Council sits in stunned silence for a long moment before it is broken by Master Yoda’s quiet laugh.

“Works in mysterious ways, the Force often does.” He says, and Master Plo Koon sits up straighter.

“I would be happy to collect my old Padawan and her mate. I’m a skilled pilot, and I’m sure I can handle the dangers circling the planet.”

Master Windu nods in response.

“Bring Master Qui-Gon with you. Familiar Betas will be a better rescue team, and the man is going stir crazy.” He said with a hint of humour in his voice, and a fond smile.

Warmth. You’re wrapped up in blissful warmth, and the sweet scent of your Omega, tangy with arousal. You blink awake, staring out of the small alcove into the darkness of the forest before you, disoriented briefly to find it so late before you remember that you’d decided to take a nap in preparation for the inevitability of your Omega’s heat hitting early this night. You hum as you twist in Obi-Wan’s arms, your hand stroking down over his side. His scent has turned, the deep sweetness and bergamot-like tang of heat bleeding out of him as it settles in. He’s hard against you, though you woke early enough that he still sleeps on without the sharp ache of need.

You decide to get ahead of it, dipping your head to kiss along his neck and up the column of his throat. Obi-Wan stirs beneath your lips, his arms tightening around you, and you smile as he sleepily mumbles your name. Not your virtue name, but your actual name, the one you’ve kept in your heart since you became a Padawan in accordance with your Haelan heritage. Y/N. He’s one of the few people that likely remember it, and it makes you happy, reminding you of how long you both have known each other. His lips part around a moan as you press a couple of kisses along his scent gland, and he stirs in your arms, shivering as your thigh slides between his legs while he’s still sleepy and pliant. Your tail curls around his knee possessively.

“You smell so good, sweetheart.” You whisper, and Obi-Wan sighs happily, twisting his fingers through your hair while he grinds against your thigh. It takes very little effort to pull Obi-Wan’s undertunic over his head, discarding it behind you and splaying your hands across his chest so you can feel his chest hair under your palms. His hips roll in little circles as he grinds against you, breathing hard against your ear, and you feel the instinct to bite a necklace of lovebites around his neck as he leans his head back to expose his throat. You cover his neck in kisses instead of bites, dropping your hands to grasp his hips and guide him to thrust against you.

“More, Alpha.” Obi-Wan begs, pupils blown wide with desire as he clutches at you, “So close. I want to come.”

You hum with satisfaction, undoing the ties to his trousers and guiding them doing his legs to avoid too much of a mess. Once your Omega is naked, you press him back into the soft fabric of his nest and dip your head to lick a fat stripe up the underside of his cock, drawing a loud, broken moan from his lips. Your tail lashes behind you, showing off exactly how eager you are for him. His hands tangle in your hair, and you have to hold his hips down to keep him from rutting against your face even as he whines. The taste of him sits heavy on your tongue, and you can feel a pull deep in your gut, so you wrap a hand around the base of him and slowly guide him into your mouth. It’s a new sensation, a little uncomfortable at first, especially accommodating his size. You have to really work to hold his hips down, but you find yourself slowly getting used to the way his girth fills you. He’s so close that it only takes a few bobs of your head before he’s coming down your throat, grasping at your hair and tossing his head back while he moans your name.

You swallow the salty mess of him, then crawl up his body, letting him pull you into a needy kiss so he can lick the remnants of his spend from your tongue. It takes only a few moments for his need to rise again, and you figure it’s about time you both become one. You’ve made your poor Omega wait long enough. Obi-Wan helps you strip your clothes off as soon as he realizes that is what you’re doing, and you sigh as he pushes you back into his nest, his mouth closing around your right nipple the moment it’s revealed. He discards your trousers somewhere off the edge of the nest behind him as he explores your body, his hands grasping at your breasts. His hot little mouth leaves a trail of kisses across your chest as he moves to give the same love to your left nipple, and you moan as he puts a bit more of his weight on you, pressing his hips into yours so he can grind blindly between your legs. The head of his cock catches against your hole, and you have to grab his hips to stop him from slamming home, moving swiftly to roll him over onto his back. The whimpers are instant.

“I know, I know, lovely. Shhh.” You whisper, straddling his lap and holding him down, “I just need to make sure I’m ready, or it’ll hurt. Can you wait for me, or do you need me to make you come again first?”

Obi-Wan shivers, looking you over for a moment while he decides whether he can wait, before reaching between the two of you to cup your cunt in one large hand. You nearly buckle at the touch, eyes wide. No one’s ever touched you there before, and you’ve only touched yourself a couple of times through the years.

“Let me help.” he murmurs, boldly gliding his fingers through the wet heat of your cunt, running entirely off instinct and the very little anatomy you had learned in your lessons. He strokes his thumb sloppily across your clit, probing gently at your hole with his middle finger, carefully sinking it in the moment you give him a nod. You’re wet enough that he is quickly able to add a second, and he pants for breath as you moan above him, thighs tight around his hips. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but he lets your body guide him, pumping his fingers into you a little faster as you grasp at his chest for support and roll your hips with him. Eventually, you grab his hand and pull him free of you, bringing his fingers up to your mouth to suck your own juices from them while he watches with wide eyes.

“Good boy. You’ve waited so long, sweetheart. You’re so strong.” You murmur, letting go of his hand so you can reach between you both and guide his cockhead to press against you so that you can sink down on him. The stretch of him is immense, and you both moan in unison as you roll your hips about halfway down, lifting a bit to ease the pressure before sinking down again until he bottoms out. Obi-Wan scrabbles for a grip on your hips, well-kept blunt nails digging into your skin and leaving red lines behind as he tries to breathe through the overwhelming pleasure. You’ve never felt so full in your life. It takes you a second to get control of yourself, and Obi-Wan rolls his hips up into you as you breathe through the fullness, unable to help himself. He’s still early in his heat, so he has some degree of control, but you know that won’t last long. You take the chance while you can to adjust and slowly make love to him, leaning forwards for a kiss while you slowly get your legs under you and begin to ride him.

Obi-Wan clings to your hips, desperate moans slipping from his lips in between messy kisses that send lightning racing down your spine. It’s good, but it takes time before you find the right way to move, where to put your hands and how to balance properly. The first couple of thrusts are awkward, Obi-Wan trying to match you but nearly jolting you off his lap while you struggle to figure out what exactly to do with yourself. It shouldn’t come as a surprise - you’re both virgins, and sexual education is limited at best at the Jedi Temple, largely revolving around how to avoid faux pas with species that have freer outlooks on sexuality than the Jedi themselves. Once you find a good rhythm, riding your Omega becomes a little easier, and starts to feel natural. You find a pace that works for both of you, slow and deep and hard, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust. The curve of him drags against that spongy spot inside of you that you’ve found the few times you’ve touched yourself, and you feel a little wild with it, shooting sparks of pleasure through you with every movement. It’s so much, so overwhelming, but you’ve not had a lick of pain so far. Just a mind-numbing stretch around the girth of your Omega, and the sparking pleasure of his cock bumping against your cervix with every thrust. It’s like he’s made for you, the way he fills you so perfectly, just on the edge of too much.

“Almost there, Alpha, almost-” Obi-Wan cries out, cutting himself off with a groan as he arches his back, gripping your hips and pulling you down on him harder. You meet his pace, taking his hands from your hips so you can pin them above his head, taking over so he can ride the waves of pleasure and just enjoy it. A ragged groan rips from Obi-Wan’s throat, and you feel through the bond all the things he can’t manage to say as he nears that peak. At first, it’s just feelings. Pleasure, desire, love blooming bright, happiness, bliss. And then, words form.

You feel so good around me. My perfect Alpha, taking such good care of me, and making me feel amazing. Force, Mercy, I feel like I’m melting. I want to come inside you, feel it flow out of you onto my skin. Want it to take. Fuck a baby into you so everyone knows I belong to you. Want to be yours, Y/N. I need you to be mine. I need you. Stars, I’m going to come. Gonna fill you up. Take it from me, Alpha. Take it! Take me!

You lean closer to him, grabbing his chin and gently forcing him to look at you even through the haze of his pleasure. His pupils are blown to the point that his pretty ocean blue eyes are nearly black, and his mouth is lax with pleasure. You kiss the soft wrinkles of his sweetly furrowed brow, unable to help yourself.

“Do you want me to bond you? Do you want me to mate you properly, my sweet Omega? Do you want to be mine?” You ask, and Obi-Wan nods jerkily, tears in his eyes, “I need your words, baby.”

Yes! Mate me. Bond me, please, Alpha. I want to be your mate.

Good boy, my sweet Omega.

You lap at his mating gland, hoping that your Haelan saliva will help ease any associated pain. Your fangs are sharp, so you hope it won’t be too uncomfortable. You’ve been told time and time again that the pain is negligible while in the midst of a heat, rut, or even just an orgasm, but you can’t help but worry about hurting your Omega. Your tail is wrapped tightly around your Omega’s thigh, needing every part of you to be holding onto him. Obi-Wan whimpers below you, and you finally cup his neck, holding him still so you can sink your sharp, aching teeth into his mating gland. Blood blooms in your mouth, and Obi-Wan gasps, thrusting his hips sharply up into you. His mind is a flurry of ‘yes’ and ‘yours’ through the bond, and you don’t feel much pain at all from him. Something else clicks into place between you, a deeper level of the bond, and you feel yourself suddenly nearing the brink of orgasm as if it’s snuck up on you. You shiver with pleasure as you feel Obi-Wan jerk below you, and each throb of his cock as he fills you with cum. You brace yourself atop him, rolling your hips in lazy circles to prolong his orgasm and pulling away only when you feel him on the brink of oversensitivity.

You lay down beside your Omega, pulling him gently into your arms and petting his hair as he comes down from the high of it, panting like he’s run a marathon. It takes him a few moments before his breathing starts to even out, and you stroke your fingers through his chest hair with one hand while the other delicately smoothes the strawberry blond strands of his hair out of his face. Your eyes are locked on his mating bond, the imprint of your teeth in his neck making you feel at once both lost in adoration and like a brute. His heat is temporarily sated, and he nuzzles against you, pulling your leg over his hip to open up your thighs.

“Sorry I didn’t make you come, darling.” Obi-Wan murmurs softly, and you laugh softly, pulling him closer before he can feel too guilty about it. You smother him in kisses, nipping at his pouty bottom lip and the tip of his strong nose.

“I would be shocked if you did, sweetheart. It’s our first time. We’ll learn.” You murmur, sighing as he slips his hand between your legs to cup your cunt again. His chest starts to rumble, a broken, raspy thing that tells you he’s never really purred before. But he purrs for you. He purrs for you, nuzzling his nose against your pointy ear and nipping the tip of it while scooping up the cum leaking from you and pushing it back in. He thumbs your clit, exploring your feelings through the bond to find what makes you feel good, and pushing two thick fingers into your cunt. With his purr against your back and his lips grazing over your mating gland, you find yourself swiftly nearing that peak again, rocking your hips to meet each thrust of his hand.

“Feels so good. My sweet, perfect little Omega, taking such good care of me. You gonna bite me, make me yours?” You mix teasing and praise, shivering as Obi-Wan nips sharply at your jaw.

“I am yours, dearheart. And you are mine.” Obi-Wan purrs, crooking his fingers while working his thumb over your clit, and you feel something pull in your gut as you come tumbling over the edge into the strongest orgasm of your admittedly limited experience. Obi-Wan sinks his teeth into your mating gland as pleasure floods your system, and the final tumbler clicks into place, unlocking the full potential of your bond. You shudder as you come a second time mere moments after the first, and Obi-Wan groans against your neck, blue blood dripping down his chin. His purring gets louder until it’s all you can hear, and you lay in a puddle of bliss in his arms as you come back to yourself. When you manage to open your eyes, it’s to the image of Obi-Wan with your blood in his beard and moustache, sucking every drop of your release from his fingers. You sigh, leaning up to shamelessly kiss every drop of you from his chin before licking your way into his pliant mouth.

“I love you.” You whisper when you part, and Obi-Wan smiles as he presses his lips against your mating gland.

“I love you too, darling.” he purrs back, licking around the raw bite to clean up the blood. You roll onto your side, dipping your trusty cloth into the basin of water you collected so that you can clean both of you up. You’ll need to rest. Tomorrow, Obi-Wan will be delirious with need and you will have little time to rest in between taking care of him. You can feel the stirrings of your rut as well, triggered by his heat and swiftly approaching. Once you’re both cleaned up, you pull your cloak atop the both of you and curl yourself around your Omega, nipping his shoulder when he sleepily but playfully grinds his backside into your pelvis.

“Sleep, needy little thing. I’ll take good care of you.”

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