#and obi-wan reesponding “darling i would have fallen in love with you” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tennessoui · 1 year

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how about “i’m sorry but no” ? also, the obikin was adorable on the last lumberjack ficlet but i have to say i absolutely love how quinlan saw a depressed cold little english professor looking meow meow and went “alright im adopting this one now he’s mine” like a bedraggled little kitten you find sitting in a box on the street corner

hi hello!!! this is "i'm sorry, but no" prompt fill, set in my fix-a-sith au, where jedi feel like sith can be cured of the dark side like an illness, primarily through constant contact with someone Light. aka usually through marriage. obi-wan s brought in to marry newly fallen sith anakin (this is the tag)

(ps thank you for this lumberjack anakin au love!! this was absolutely quin's thought process in that ficlet!)

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Anakin—Vader, but Anakin sometimes, and Anakin now—has a very good feeling about the course of tonight’s events and what they mean.

He played very nice with all of Obi-Wan’s friends, even Vos. Even Ventress, who’s really more like friend by association. Friend by being married to Vos, which is a double black mark in Anakin’s mind but apparently means that Obi-Wan gives him very disappointed eyes whenever he growls at her.

So tonight, when they’d all gone out to dinner, Anakin had kept all of his displeasure to himself. He’d been polite to their server, had grunted out a laugh in response to Vos’ jokes, and even allowed Ventress to touch his husband’s arm to get his attention. Attention that, until that moment, had been completely Vader’s.

He hadn’t even Force-choked her in a way that could be easily tied back to him, though she’d coughed and spluttered when she’d taken a drink of her water a few moments later.

Obi-Wan had glared at him like he knew what he was doing with his hands beneath the table, but Anakin had smiled back sunnily, brightest blue eyes firmly in play. Like seemed to always be the case, the sight of Anakin’s blue eyes had seemed to dissolve Obi-Wan’s ire, and then his husband had reached across the space between them to lay a hand on Anakin’s thigh.

So Anakin has an incredibly good feeling about tonight because Obi-Wan has been keeping a hold on him throughout dinner, dessert, drinks afterwards. It’s been a hand on his thigh, it’s been a weight of an arm brushing the small of his back, it’s been fingers entangling with his own.

Despite the fact that they’ve been married for almost one standard year, Anakin can count on one hand the amount of times his husband has kissed him Casual touches have slowly made their way into their everyday communications, but kissing and any intimate sort of relationship has been kept firmly and jealously defended, with Anakn on the wrong side of the fighting.

His husband is too good, he thinks. He knows more than a few Jedi spouses have been tempted by their Sith partners to consummate their marriage bed. Force, he knows Ventress seduced Vos within their first week together.

But Obi-Wan Kenobi has resisted his every advance. Anakin would take it personally if he didn’t know just how good his husband was.

So tonight—filled with the touches, the looks, the reedy swallows and stuttering—is unexpected.

Unexpected but a gift to be treasured.

Treasured and consumed.

They are barely through the doors into their quarters before Anakin slams Obi-Wan up against the wall just to the side, hands sliding from his shoulders down to his waist as he presses against his body.

His lipss find his husband’s easily, his mouth already open and ready for the taking. Something inside of Anakin purrs as he tastes his husband. He has been missing the taste of him. He has been craving it and now it’s his again. Obi-Wan is his.

Obi-Wan has always been his, but now the man is kissing him back instead of denying it. Now the man’s mouth is too busy for words as his hands slide through Anakin’s hair and push his head to the angle he wants it most, and Anakin would contort his body into any position Obi-Wan desires if it means the man keeps kissing him like that.

It’s been so long since anyone’s kissed him. He can’t really remember if he’s always been this sensitive to the action or if Obi-Wan is especially good at coaxing these noises out of him.

Either way, the whimper he makes when Obi-Wan’s tongue drags across his bottom lip belongs to him. The breathless exhale that’s punched out of him when Obi-Wan pushes away to nip at his jaw is his as well. They all belong to Obi-Wan now because Obi-Wan is his husband, which makes Obi-Wan his.

He allows him to pull away with the greatest of reluctance. His body feels like one giant nerve, everywhere they’re touching somehow sending lightning through his veins. But the good sort of lightning. The kind that makes his chest sing instead of burn.

“Obi-Wan,” he murmurs, allowing his head to drop back, exposing the line of his throat to the Jedi’s perusal. “Obi-Wan.”

And then Obi-Wan does the unthinkable. He pulls away.

Anakin can feel his chest moving against his own, up and down, ragged and unfiltered in a way that makes Anakin’s mouth water to taste the sweat that will bead up on his husband’s chest, chase the oxygen as it enters his husband’s parted lips.

He wants more; he wants closer; he wants now.

He doesn’t understand why suddenly there’s a hand pressing against his chest, and he snarls his ddisspleasure at the distance it creates between their bodies. He can feel his husband’s desire as if it were hiss own. It is his own. It belongs to him, it—-

“Anakin, no,” his husband says, far too loudlyand firmly for the soft quiet of their quarters. Anakin’s eyes narrow, lips pulling back from his teeth because he’s being denied again, he shouldn’t—he cannot—-

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmurs, softer. “Anakin, I’m sorry, but no. We cannot. I cannot.”

Anakin knows such a statement is final, that he cannot push his husband to accept him like this. Consent. He knows it’s important. Distantly, in some small part of his mind that isn’t crushed by the disappointment of being pushed away or angry at the denial, he knows listening to Obi-Wan is important, integral even.

He pushes himself away before he can do something stupid and impulsive like hurt Obi-Wan, just because the hurt in his chest feels too big to be contained within himself.

He breathes deeply, in and out, just like the Jedi teachers have taught him.

“I’m sorry, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, and the words feel like they cut him deep and in a way no healer could ever cure. “I cannot take advantage of you in this…intoxicated state.”

“I’ve not had two drinks,” Anakin mutters, hand against his own throat as he turns away, a paltry attempt to ground himself.

“You know I’m not talking about alcohol, dear one,” his husband replies, and Vader breaks. “Do not call me that!” he snaps, spinning back around to glare wetly at Obi-Wan. “As if you have some sort of—of familiarity with me even as you hold me at a distance, one that grows larger and larger by the day!”

“That is not true! I have let you in—”

“Everywhere except your bed!” Vader cuts him off, advancing upon him quickly and boxing him up against the wall. “You guard yourself so jealously, Kenobi. I ache for you and yet you push me away as if I were a youngling who needs to be minded—”

“You have Fallen, Anakin. You are not in your right mind. The Dark Side tempts and clouds one’s soul—to take advantage of such a thing, to give into my own desires—it would be—”

“Monstrous,” Vader finishes because he’s heard this before. He’s heard this speech so many times he could spout it from memory. “But what if the person who loves you is a monster, Obi-Wan Kenobi? What if that monster wants you to stoop to its level just once—just once—so it’s not alone in its monstrosity?”

Obi-Wan swallows and shakes his head, casting his gaze away. “You are not a monster, Anakin.” He pauses and swallows again. Shakes his head again. “But I cannot afford to lose myself in you, Anakn. For both of our sakes.”

He straightens his robes hurriedly and exits through the doors.

Vader watches him leave. The lamp on the side table throws itself against the wall he had Obi-Wan pressed against only a handful of minutes ago. The burst of anger, once exercised, only makes him feel hollow.

He wishes, not for the first time, that Obi-Wan Kenobi was a little less good.

A little less perfect.

A little more reachable.

A little more....touchable.

#asks #prompt fill #obikin #fix a sith au #anyway obi-wan is currently having a meltdown outsde their quarters over his moment of weakness #and hes trying to decide if he can go to the council and get anakin a new husband #because obviously hes not fit for the role #i also wanted to fit the exchange of vader asking obi-wan “if we had met before i fell when i was a jedi watchman would you have kissed me”#and obi-wan reesponding “darling i would have fallen in love with you”#but couldnt fit it in here #next fix a sith au snippet!!!

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