#obi wan is a mood here
Text
Cody: Name one thing you wanna try in the bedroom.
Obi-wan, on his fith cup of tea: Getting a full 8 hours of sleep.
Cody: I would like that for you too.
#star wars incorrect quotes#inncorrect quotes#obi wan kenobi#codywan#commander cody#the clone wars#the clone wars incorrect quotes#Am i posting this at 4AM#yes yes i am#I should get sleep too#obi wan is a mood here
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
I love the jedi but enemies au but please consider: au where anakin THINKS they're enemies and obi-wan is just living his life completely oblivious to this fact. he got irritated with anakin once shortly after naboo and anakin has never forgotten. one time he gave anakin constructive criticism in a senior padawan class he taught and anakin was convinced that this was an act of pettiness and hatred
I LOVE this because being mad at Obi-Wan occupies 75% of Anakin's time for 10 years, meanwhile Obi-Wan has barely thought about him at all and doesn't even remember his name, so he sees this padawan making angry eyes at him for the first time in like, 8 years, and asks gently 'does he feel alright? is his face always like this? hello little ball of hate and fury, are you hurt and do you need me to call your master' and Anakin, now consumed by rage, yells 'how DARE you I've never felt more insulted in my WHOLE life but of course it's exactly what I expected from you Kenobi' before storming off the room
#so many possibilities!!!#I feel like keeping obi-wan in the dark would be the funniest option here#they get assigned missions together and anakin keeps treating him like the worst thing that ever happened to the galaxy#and obi-wan is in a constant state of '????' and almost takes it as a challenge to be nice and makes anakin like him#and it WORKS after awhile anakin is horrified to realise he actually likes obi-wan#and worries that telling him he's the padawan qui-gon took and ditched obi-wan for will make obi-wan hates him#i'm in the mood for a lot of silly drama tonight#clem's aus#asks#anon
107 notes
·
View notes
Text
“So exciting, we’ll make them laugh, we’ll make them cry
So delighting-”
#like mood like Edit huh#Star Wars#moulin rouge#swedit#This edit doesn’t mean I’m back- it’s all shitty here Uni family -I’m not ready yet#padme amidala#obi wan kenobi#moulinrougeedit#musical Edit#my edit#thekenobeeedit#se#swdaily#pt#ewan mcgregor#ewanmcgregoredit#lyrics#spectacular spectacular#sad sad SAD#MUsicals#satine moulin rouge#christian x satine
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kote’s House
Kote’s first house is a pathetic thing, and he is incurably proud of it. The twi’lek he purchased it from very evidently could not make up his mind what to do with a man that grinned while he haggled, but it was the first time Kote had haggled over a purchase of his very own. He had thoroughly enjoyed it.
The house is built for one being, and a compact being at that, but Kote doesn’t have much. Moving in is quick, and most of his efforts during the next few days after go into attempting ambitious repairs for things he doesn’t know the first thing about.
His plumbing is an issue, he knows. Something is getting blocked up. Somehow while trying to fix the kitchen tumbler, his fresher spout explodes.
He hadn’t kept his new house a secret from anyone by any means, but it is still surprising when Fox barges in through his jamming front door. He finds Kote on the floor in his cramped kitchen while the fresher rains water in the adjacent room, laughing so hard and so crippled with delight that he can’t get up.
He tries to explain how wonderful it is —
“I-I have to fix my plumbing on my own, vod—”
—but judging by Fox’s single raised eyebrow he knows it doesn’t translate.
Fox, it turns out, is moving into the neighborhood. Kote doesn’t ask about the house Fox already has — the house he has visited, which is very nice and fancy — or point out that Fox’s contract there cannot possibly be up, which begs the question of why he’s here in Kote’s neighborhood — except that Kote already knows the answer to that question. So he doesn’t ask.
Fox doesn’t show him any grace or forbearance, though.
“Don’t even know how to fix a damn pipe, front lining show-off—” His brother snarls, but it is muffled; his top half had to go down beneath the floor they’d pried up to get at the plumbing issue.
“So that’s what they had you doing all these years.” Kote says, because he really is in a criminally good mood. He barely ducks the foot-long pipe Fox throws at his head, feeling giddy.
He makes dinner that night in thanks. Fox stays, ostensibly because now that he’s fixed the fresher he intends to use it, because his new house isn’t hooked up properly yet to all the supply lines and power grids.
They choke on homemade tiingilar (vode-style; Kote can’t pretend at the real thing yet) so heavily spiced it’s got grit to it that sticks between the teeth. It’s disgusting, but Cody had bought fifteen different spices and while usually he likes to keep his approach to the unknown more cautious, more methodical, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do more than use them all at once for the first time.
Wolffe joins them not long after; brings a few others along by recommending the apartment he picks out, so that soon most of the complex is taken up by vode, Kote hears, but he doesn’t visit yet. Everyone’s too busy coming over to his house, it seems; filling up his kitchen and asking why he hasn’t fixed the trash disposal yet, why he doesn’t have a couch, doesn’t he know they’re all the rage among civilized folk?
Kote fixes the trash disposal with Rex, who is better at it than he is but says it’s only due to Skywalker’s influence on managing all things mechanical.
“How is Skywalker?” Kote asks, and gets more than he bargained for over the next hour. At first he’s a bit off-put, because he’s trying to get dinner sorted again and he’s not been very fond of Skywalker at the best of times, but Rex is snorting out a story and laughing and it’s contagious, so Kote just resigns himself and settles in to enjoy.
Skywalker has little ones, now. Obi-Wan is the only one that can get them to sleep. Ahsoka is distressed; she knows better, but every instinct in her is apparently in agony over the little ones’ inability to eat meat yet. She obsesses over nutrients in their diet — which, given what tiny natborn humans primarily ingest in the early stages, makes for some slightly awkward conversations.
Rex helps with dinner afterward, and they take turns being incredulous over natborn baby facts, shoving around one another in the tiny, uncomfortable kitchen.
“What’s your next project?” Rex asks at one point, glancing sidelong with a cheeky look, and Kote levels his vegetable knife at him (he’s got a vegetable knife. Specifically for vegetables. It’s a very new concept).
“I make everyone’s dinner on Tuangsdays.” He says. “I’m productive.”
Rex’s sharp-toothed grin turns thoughtful. “Yeah” He says. “Everyone loves coming here, you know. You could be the new 79’s.”
Kote knows. He plans and plots, and puts more work into researching recipes than he’s put into any research whatsoever in months. It feels a bit like coming out of a shore leave; his thoughts quicken and his excitement grows. He hunts down a market. He brings a bag. He shops, bargains, and returns victorious.
He sends out a few comms., and can’t help but shake his head and grin at how different the responses are.
What a marvelous idea, Cody. His general — ex-general — says.
Yus pls, Ahsoka sends back, with some sort of strange tooka vidclip that dances with wiggly gyrations Kote can only assume indicate excitement.
Where is your house, Anakin says, blunt and to the point, and Kote can appreciate that.
He sends the address. He cooks all day. The sun sets, and Fox and Wolffe arrive, already bickering, Rex trailing behind with a long-suffering look sent to Kote, begging commiseration.
“Ugh, don’t you ever stop smiling, now?” He gripes when Kote just grins at him.
“Nope,” Kote says, unrepentantly.
He leaves the soup on the stove, simmering, and takes his cup of caf to the window. He leans on it, breathing in cool air, and just listens — listens to the squabbling as Wolffe gets on Fox’s case for not washing Kote’s dishes correctly the last time they visited. Hears the soft thumps of Rex sneaking into the cramped room Kote has set aside for plants and the sole pet he has; a pastel goullian, fins swaying ever so gently, permanent scowl in place. Thinks he catches, distantly, the sound of his remaining three guests (Padme couldn’t attend, and had made him feel very awkward by how thoughtfully she apologized for it) plodding up the hill.
“Cody!” Ahsoka cries, coming into view and waving.
Kote’s cheeks have stopped aching from all the smiling he’s gotten used to, so it’s easy to let another through.
#fan art#artists on tumblr#star wars fanart#star wars: the clone wars#fix it au#captain rex#commander cody#commander fox#commander wolffe#obi wan kenobi#anakin skywalker#ahsoka#After The War Fluff#Get you some vod that can do plumbing and make fun of your trash disposal unit#OmPu Writes: Snippet#just-typed-this-out-and-it-shows#Kote was grinning like a shark while haggling#It was terrifying#This man waged wars and he cannot wait to utilize every tactical skill he learned in that endeavor on one (1) twi’lek to negotiate the sale#-of a fix-er-upper he was going to buy anyway#First time trying this art style#Star Wars fanfic
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
A Disturbed State Of The Natural Environment, Gods-Fucking-Dammit
A Pada-Wan Story
for @lttrsfrmlnrrgby
“Obi— Commander Kenobi-“
“You can call me Obi-Wan, Cody,” the kid huffs. “Neither you nor I will suddenly combust into a ball of fire if you do.”
You don’t know that, Cody thinks, not liking how his voice sounds in his mind.
Four days since the incident - or, “The Incident,” how Boil and Waxer like to say in unison with the bucket lights under their chins -, two since the 104th of all Battalions received their signal and towed the 212th fleet to the nearest station within the Republic that would allow them to overhaul the ships’ electronics.
It has been exactly two point five hours since Wolffe stopped wheezing at Cody over comms. Nearly as much time as the kid had vanished from under Cody’s paranoid nose.
“Councilor Kenobi is safe and sound,” General Koon had assured him while Wolffe stood at perfect parade rest a step behind, shriek-laughing his armor off.
The kid sighs. “You have come here for a reason?” he asks, stubborn and prim. “Or is Wooley babysitting me not enough?” He points a thumb over his shoulder to Wooley popping up several yards away, waving.
“If you haven’t noticed Hook, Line, and Sinker also keeping an eye on you, my trepidations are justified.”
The kid rolls his eyes, gesturing to three empty looking spots in the distance. “I am well aware Master Koon is in league with you.”
Cody will not explain safety precautions again. He’s saving that for when the kid really sets out to stomp on any and all walls Cody had to hastily and thoroughly built when his General, his partner, suddenly turned into a child at the worst possible development stage for Cody’s sanity.
The kid studies him while Cody is trying to come up with a legitimate reason for looking for him. Direct admittance to personal concern would backfire on Cody in multiple, entertaining ways, and he frankly doesn’t want to deal with that. From the kid being smug that Cody cares about him very much so keeping his distance must mean something more. To accusations of not trusting Obi-Wan (which, correct, Cody doesn’t know him after all), seeing him as a kid (also true) when he’s sixteen and basically a stone’s throw away from becoming a geezer.
Sixteen. Cody shudders. He remembers very well that half year when he was that developmental age. He shudders again. Gods, the mood swings alone.
“I am reasonably paranoid about your welfare,” he says at last. Wooden which makes him cringe but he’s never lied to Obi-Wan and he’s not starting now.
The kid stares at him for a while. One corner of his mouth quirks up with a shrug and a shuttered look in his eyes Cody desperately wants to make better. “It’s different when they really are out to get you, isn’t it.” The Council had explained how precarious his older self’s safety was at the best of times. Cody had only seen the aftermath and the accompanying ranting about life choices with the occasional visibly happy understanding that Obi-Wan could, actually, grow a non-patchy beard when he’s got a few more years on him.
“May I sit with you?” Cody asks. Shoveling his own metaphorical grave is so much easier with mixed signals after all. But he misses the older Obi-Wan. It’s not fair of him but he needs this.
The expected blush blooms on freckled cheeks. “Yes, of course!” is the eager reply, followed by more blushing.
It’s endearingly cute and Cody would like to chew on his bucket now.
The kid scoots over, wide eyed and expectant.
Gingerly, Cody lowers himself, ignoring the armor digging into his ass and thighs. And lets the silence stretch.
This, really, is what he came here for. A self-indulgent little break to catch his breath. The High General of a Systems Army is compromised and that fact has to remain eyes only to an exclusive handful of people. Only the Jedi Council knows out of obvious necessity. So it’s up to Cody to keep everything else running, keeping the admiralty in the dark because even teenaged Obi-Wan had said he’s got a bad feeling if they were to tell the brass. So they haven’t.
Usually, when flimsiwork and war horrors keep stacking up and expand into an avalanche, Obi-Wan and Cody sit together in silence, sharing a precious cup of real tea, being together and lending support and strength they can’t find for themselves but can always, always find for each other.
Selfishly he wants that strength from Obi-Wan now, the warmth of his body nearby. He’s already breathing easier.
The kid is looking at him curiously, but Cody chooses not to say anything. Instead he turns forward once more, watching the busy night markets of the station and the stars behind it. After a moment the kid does the same.
Shoulders slowly relax and the silence becomes comfortable.
#obi wan kenobi#commander cody#codywan#star wars#star wars fanart#frostbitebakery art#padawan obi wan#what are you going to do when Jedi robes are too big#you go to a storage closet and cry#poor cody#ahhh it’s been so long since I promised to draw this!#de aged!obi wan
761 notes
·
View notes
Note
Both! Both is good shy Obi who then respectfully doms!!!!
Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Fem!Reader (Clone Wars era)
Words: 34,895 (things clearly got out of hand)
Warnings: lap dance, lots of touching, Obi-Wan wholeheartedly consents but he feels guilty that he's enjoying the “attention” (in the beginning at least), scent kink, lots of kissing, lots of fluids, shy to respectfully-dominant Obi-Wan, Oral (male receiving), squirting, some humiliation/dirty talk, overstimulation, slight religion kink, slight praise kink, slight breeding kink, incorrect use of the Force.
Summary: “And what-” the words die in his throat as soon as he feels the heat of your mouth engulf his thumb completely, and he clenches his jaw tightly when your tongue swirls around his finger several times until it’s completely drenched with your drool. “I apologize, what have you thought of when you studied them?” He manages to ask when you finally stop torturing him, but the relief barely remains because you drop his hand suddenly and throw your head back in pleasure when his palm accidentally grazes your breast, the wet thumb barely coming in contact with your nipple before he’s snatching his hand away as if you were molten fire. You snap your attention back to him a moment later, smiling to yourself when you see his pink features blush a deeper shade of red.
A/N: I refuse to apologize for whatever this is. This is not-so-loosely based on one of my less-dignifying posts which @penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories decided to make better and which I dedicate this to. I hope y’all enjoy this as much as I did writing it. This is not beta’d so if you see anything misspelled, know that it is because I was flustered while writing this lovely story. You can add yourself to the taglist here.
An almost bored expression takes over your features as soon as your comlink beeps and signals a request for a private dance. When you notice how long the requested time is, you ask your handler to lead the client to the VIP room, and let them know that you will be there in a few minutes. You smile at the gentlemen flocking around you like a bunch of loth-cats in heat and excuse yourself, telling them that you will happily enjoy some more time with them once you finish the private dances for the night. Turning around to the stage, you signal one of the twileks to come and take your place so you don’t leave them without any service, and as you make your way to the private dance rooms, you can’t help but turn around to glance across the floor briefly, eyes immediately searching for the familiar brown and beige robes that have graced the establishment for some time now.
Strange, he didn’t come today.
You shake your head in disappointment and make your way past the smaller rooms, fixing your lingerie and hair with each step you take so you look presentable to the client. Whoever it was, they certainly didn’t beat around the bush, asking for a longer time than usual and agreeing to the price of your services without making a fuss to your handler. You throw a kiss to the gentleman guarding the door of the room, and when you see the teasing smile he’s throwing at you, you narrow your eyes at him and take a step closer to the door.
“Anything I should know about our guest?” You raise an eyebrow at him when he immediately shrugs his shoulders and steps out of your way. .
“I know nothing sweetheart…except that I might not see you for the rest of the night.” It’s the first time anyone has dared to respond so crudely to you but you aren’t in the mood to give him a piece of your mind so you shoo him away and tell him not to disturb you. When he’s out of sight, you return your attention to the closed door and send a quick prayer to the maker that whoever it is wouldn’t try anything strange with you, or at least nothing that you aren’t willing to get onboard with.
Dropping your gaze to the ground, you stretch your shoulders and knock twice before pushing the button on the side of the wall, the soft sound of the door swishing open giving you another few moments of peace before you meet the challenge of the night. You walk in slowly but don’t bother to raise your head just yet, instantly reaching for the lock on the door to push it so you can let the client know you will not be disturbed for quite some time.
It’s only when you turn around and allow your eyes to gaze at the figure sitting in the middle of the couch that you finally catch onto the meaning of the words thrown at you not a moment ago.
Kriff, he was even more beautiful up close.
And his gaze was unwavering in its intensity, making you forget how to breathe for a moment before you remember why he was here. Forcing yourself to remain calm, you offer him your friendliest smile before slowly approaching him. But a few steps is all it takes for you to recognize how uncomfortable he is in your presence. Whereas you would normally accompany your client on the couch, perhaps tease them a little with soft touches to their shoulders or brief caresses to their hair, you opt to remain farther away from him. His body language visibly eases when he notices the sudden halt in your movement, and he gulps nervously before he corrects his posture and tries to appear more confident than he is.
You get the sense that this man was not used to feeling so out-of-place, and you think that this may have gone a little more your way if you weren’t showing so much skin. He certainly didn’t appear to be uncomfortable by the environment, far from it if the last week proved anything. It was most likely due to the state of your attire, or lack thereof. Tilting your head to the side, you giggle when you look into his eyes and see a bead of sweat form just above his brow, the furrowed muscles giving him away instantly.
He definitely didn’t appreciate what you were wearing.
Or maybe, considering what you learned fairly quickly about his line of work, he was perhaps a little too appreciative of your almost nude figure, and the guilt was eating away at him because of said lifestyle.
“I was wondering when I’d have the pleasure of your company.” You let your hands roam over the flimsy material of your lingerie, barely holding back from laughing out loud when you see the handsome stranger clench his jaw tightly in irritation.
Or was that appreciation?
He must take notice of how closely you’re studying him because in an instant, his facial expression grows neutral, and he raises a curious eyebrow at you, his lips upturning slightly in an attempt to tease you in return. Oh, this was definitely going to be entertaining, perhaps more enjoyable than you initially thought.
“You’re acting surprised for someone who’s been here for an entire week and never asked for a private room.” You remark as you take hold of the pole in the middle of the room, twirling your body around it once before you rest your forehead against it, eyes refusing to look anywhere else by the blue, slowly darkening orbs staring into your soul.
“Surely my presence was not obvious.” As soon as the words leave his mouth and reveal the low guttural sound of his voice, a coarse shiver takes over your body, and you have to grasp onto the pole tightly to try and ground yourself. If he sees the way his voice affects you, he chooses to say nothing and instead crosses his legs while fixing his robes. Your attention falls instantly on the dangerous weapon hanging on the belt around his waist, but you turn away before you think more of how you’d like him to thoroughly use you for his pleasure.
“Maybe to others it wasn’t,” you remark as you raise your knees against the pole and allow him to get an eyeful of your inner thighs, “but it sure was to me.” The second his eyes shift below your neck, you bite into your lower lip and smile as his cheeks suddenly become a deeper shade of pink.
“I find that hard to believe.” You turn around to avoid his gaze, knowing that he will surely notice the reaction of your body to his voice. He’s only spoken twice thus far, but you come to accept rather quickly that there was nothing you could ever deny him should he continue to speak with such an arousing, soft baritone to you. When you face him again and see how adamant he is on keeping his sight above your neckline, you decide to push him a little, wanting to get a closer look into his personality.
“Why? Because I’m just another whore selling her body for money, or because I must be stupid since I’m just another whore selling her body for money?” You continue to dance for him, completely ignoring the wince he offers in distaste of your diction as he reorients himself on the couch.
“You gravely misunderstand me, my lady. I only meant to remark on your exceptionally discerning abilities when this fine establishment promises the utmost attention when- when being served privately.” He struggles a little in his response, and you can’t help but giggle at the respectful manner he upholds even further out of fear of offending you by accident again.
“He’s smart and polite. You’re definitely not from these parts of the woods.” Your words briefly put him at ease, but then his body language shifts once more when you slide your hands across your barely covered skin and throw your head back to give him a full view of your stretched neck. You flutter your eyes at him when you return his gaze, amusement washing over you as soon as he clears his throat and pretends to study his surroundings.
“The color of the room isn’t pleasing to you.” You comment when you notice the pout he gives at the dominating color overshadowing the two of you, and for a split second, you are distracted by thoughts of him dominating you right at the center of this very room.
“Red is not my color, but it will suffice for now.” Your amusement turns into irritation when you realize his attempts of painting an untruthful image of himself for your sake at the expense of his discomfort. The thought of being the cause of his tense muscles and uneasy aura makes you uncomfortable, and you stop your routine long enough for him to take notice and finally meet your eyes again.
“I’m sure it isn’t…Master Jedi.” You assumed he would reveal his identity to you as soon as you walked into the room, but the fact that he was taking so long to start the session was beginning to hold the opposite effect of whatever he was intending. When a rather shocked and almost lost expression meets your curious orbs, you groan in regret for revealing your knowledge of his identity.
Kriff, he wasn’t planning on telling you at all.
“Don’t act so surprised…and don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone what you are. Tell me then, which of those lovely gentlemen I spent time with last week recommended me?” You sigh in relief when his shoulders visibly relax at your admission, and you sway your hips down to the ground until you’re kneeling across from him. He gulps nervously and finally allows his eyes to roam your body when you palm the pole and bring your thighs around the cold metal. Slowly, you raise yourself and rub your core against the pole long enough to startle him. The lewd motions come to a stop, however, when he responds to you with yet another question.
“I beg your pardon?” His voice is hoarse, that you are sure of, and you decide to put him out of his misery and settle down for a moment until he answers your question. Unfortunately for him, your lack of movement seems to distract him further, and you clear your throat loudly to snap him out of whatever spiraling thoughts overtaking his mind. He must notice the deeper shade his features are becoming because he reaches for his beard and strokes it as if he was searching for an answer in response to an important business question.
“Don’t be shy, tell me. I only wish to repay them the favor for sending me such a fine specimen as yourself.” You coo at him, hoping that the calm tone of your voice would in turn pacify him, or at the very least, show that you meant him no harm. He blinks at you in confusion before he inhales deeply, and you swear he is purposely trying to hypnotize you with his body language, the thought coming to you rather humorously because it was your job to flirt with him, not the other way around.
“I- I am uncertain to whom or what you are referring to.” He is rather serious when he finally breaks the silence, and your smile fades for a moment at the odd sentiment before you nod in return and smirk at him yet again.
“Huh, so you’re not here on recommendation…which means, you’re here by luck or you’re on the job.” You raise an eyebrow when his jaw clenches tightly, and if it wasn’t your job to read people with one glance, you would have missed the way his entire body becomes rigid at your conclusion. He breaks your gaze and quickly scans the room, the action letting you know that he was by no means in your company by accident.
No, he wanted to be here. Or perhaps, needed to be here for an important reason, one that left him no other option but to pay for your time.
“On the job then.” You sigh heavily before sauntering towards him, and making yourself comfortable to his left. You leave enough space between the two of you for his sake, not wanting to give him any reason to leave you so soon. There was something about his presence that felt oddly comforting, even though he clearly did not want to be here.
“How did you know who I am?” The Jedi finally asks, and you take the chance of finally meeting his eyes to bring both of your legs up onto the couch, and resting your cheek on your knees. Your skin glistens with goosebumps when he allows his attention to roam down your exposed skin, and you shrug your shoulders in response as soon as he looks at you with a warning expression.
“For one, your clothes give it away. Word of advice, if you want to lay low in these parts of town, don’t go around wearing your most Jedi-looking robes. Makes you stand out like eye candy…not that you need any help in that area.” The neutral look on his face falls for a split second when he registers the compliment, but you don’t comment on it, instead throwing your arm across the back of the couch until the tips of your fingers graze his cloak. He flinches at the sudden touch but relaxes almost immediately when he realizes you won’t become more bold with your handling of him.
“And I happen to know a few Jedi myself. Your kind comes by here all the time.” You tilt your head to the side and bite into your lower lip as soon as his eyes widen in shock at what you just admitted to him. But his eyebrows furrow soon after and he looks down to the floor, not bothering to hide the distaste of your revelation as he strokes his beard again.
Kriff, you desperately wanted him to stop doing that.
“Just because you don’t partake doesn’t mean others don’t as well.” Your tone is not as welcoming as before, and he must sense your dislike of his reaction because he shakes his head as if to apologize for how his reaction may have come off.
“You have…entertained Jedi before?” The reluctance swimming in between his inquisitive words almost makes you lean back in laughter, but you force those giggles down and instead dwell on his diction and the attempts at being respectful towards you.
“Oh I did more than entertain sweetheart, otherwise they wouldn’t keep coming back from more. I suspected one of them sent you here to let loose a bit and you were just making sure I’m up to standards, which is why it took you so long to come here, but it seems that I was mistaken.” To his credit, the Jedi Master tries his best to give you his undivided attention as you respond to him, but you choose to look anywhere but his eyes for fear of giving yourself away should he finally understand how much of an effect he has on you.
“May I ask who had the pleasure of your company?” You are a little surprised by his line of questioning, mostly because you didn’t think he would want to know anything of the sort, let alone discuss other Jedi’s intimate habits in the presence of someone who clearly knew more than she was letting on.
“A girl doesn’t kiss and tell, Master.” As soon as that last exclamation leaves your lips, the man inhales deeply and hides his blush behind a thoughtful expression. His eyes betray him, however, when you watch him drag his intense gaze down your body before zeroing in on your lips.
“Hmm, and it wouldn’t be good for business if I go around and start telling people who I spend time with here. After all, you have a reputation to live up to. What would happen to the good people of Coruscant if they knew their beloved Jedi enjoyed fucking like animals in their downtime?” You look at him through heavy-lidded eyes, wanting him to know that you caught him eye-fucking you while pretending he wasn’t interested. The obscene response makes him wince, and if you didn’t know any better, you would think he’s never heard profanity in his years serving the galaxy.
“My apologies, I forget how prudish some of you are.” You graze his arm with your fingers as you apologize, feigning innocence as you squeeze his clothed muscles before taking your hand away once more.
“I am not a prude.” He sounds a little amused, but you can tell he was still having a difficult time keeping up with this game.
“In that case, I will try to watch my language so I don’t offend your sensibilities.” Your declaration distracts him yet again, not because of the clear lies hidden behind your promise but because you choose to lower one of your legs and push it underneath the other, giving him a perfect view of your barely clothed pussy slowly soaking the flimsy material shielding you from his eyes. He knows what you’re doing, and you quietly applaud him for not falling into your trap so easily and turning his head towards the lighting of the room instead.
“Would you like me to change the color of the room then, perhaps match those pretty blue eyes of yours?” If you were being honest, those beautiful orbs were no longer blue, and you got the sense that he knew just as well how dilated his pupils were at the moment.
“That will be unnecessary, my lady.” His voice is more balanced than moments ago, more confident as it wraps deliciously around the title he decided to grace you with. You shouldn’t be surprised by his politeness, especially since he’s been nothing but respectful to you ever since he walked in. But you are stunned at the word he chose to call you, only because no one has ever associated you, in this line of work, with such a title before.
“I’ve been called many things before, never ‘my lady.’”
“I do not mean to offend you. If you wish-” Panic washes over him at your remark, and you reach for him once more to set his mind at ease when he stutters through an apology. He grows silent when he feels your hand grasp his forearm, but unlike before, when his whole body tensed at the mere touch of your hands, he doesn’t flinch now and slowly turns his whole body to face you.
“Relax sweetheart, I don’t care what you call me as long as you’re enjoying yourself.” You don’t let go of him just yet, wanting to test out his comfort with the proximity between the two of you.
“That is a rather horrifying sentiment, which I can happily discuss with you once my business here is finished.” The amusement is evident in his voice, and you chuckle at his need to illustrate his rather progressive opinion on your claims. If only he knew what the others called you when they visited your chambers every other week. The more you think about it, the more you recognize the deep need slowly filling your chest for him to call you all sorts of unholy names if it meant he was bringing you pleasure and using you for his own.
“Business then.” You break the silence out of fear of what you might do should he continue to look at you in such a way. The man had an uncanny ability of knowing just what to say and how to move to hypnotize you, and you were beginning to feel weak from the simple action of maintaining contact with his darkening blue eyes.
“I’m here for the man you have entertained several times this past week,” you admire his ability to move on from, what he probably considered, a rather uncomfortable conversation. But as the question settles in your mind, your admiration becomes nothing but a deep irritation. He was involving you in business you did not wish to be a part of, and whether or not he knew how dangerous this could be for you, you knew he would not leave until he got the information he came for.
“Ah, so that’s what this is about.” You move away from him and pretend to pick at the loose strands of one of the pillows behind you. His attention doesn’t falter once, and you hate how difficult it suddenly is to breathe in his presence. You got the sense that it would not be easy to lie to him and decide to feign ignorance instead.
“Has he ever spoken a word to you about any shipments he smuggles through Coruscant?” The Jedi Master continues his questioning, and you hate how quickly his tone turns from one of curiosity to hope.
“What shipments?” You ask in return and turn to look at him, instantly regretting the action when you realize he can sense that you are hiding something from him.
“He is a notoriously dangerous smuggler, my lady. He must have revealed even the smallest of details by accident.” The man shifts his body towards you, reaching out to touch your hands as they continue to fiddle with the black covers stretched around the pillow. A sizzling heat courses across your skin when you feel his warm hand atop your own, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was practically interrogating you on one of your clients, you would have returned the gesture and made him blush. Instead, you slip your hands away and relax against the back of the couch, the hint of hurt flashing across the gentleman’s features not going unnoticed by you.
“You must really think me a bore if you truly believe that “notoriously dangerous” men will speak of their work while I’m…what is it you said, entertaining them.” You respond perhaps a little too angrily, and you watch as his expression turns yet again to a somewhat neutral impression at your unnecessary outburst.
“I am sure you are marvelous in your craft but-” He looks to the ground as he speaks, but you don’t give him a chance to continue, knowing that he might easily get the upper hand on you if you let him soothe you over with gentle compliments.
“But I can’t be that good.” His gaze shoots up as soon as you throw those words at him, and you can’t help but smile when you see his attempts to hide his embarrassment. Against your better judgment, you cross your legs and slowly twirl your hair around your fingers, hoping that your confirmation of his suspicions would suffice for now and prevent him from asking more questions.
“Well, if you must know Master Jedi, Barlac did in fact mention a thing or two about the shipments he smuggles through here. But I’ll have you know, he only spoke of these matters when he was having a moment of respite. I work hard you see, and sometimes, my clients like to take a break before we return to our…extracurricular activities.” Without thinking much, you tease him about his earlier remark, barely managing to hold back your giggles when the pretty blush that spread across his cheeks a moment ago deepens and descends down to his neck.
“I see.” The curt response is reluctant, and you watch as he rubs his beard several times, most likely thinking of the name you had just given him.
“Don’t pout like that, it’s distracting.” You don’t realize what you blurted out until he looks up at you with nothing but shock filling his eyes, the hands on his chin ceasing all movement when he realizes you were being dead serious. Your heart skips a beat at the prospect of having the man touch you so intimately, but you knew better than to go down that line of thinking now of all times.
“Well, aren’t you going to make me an offer for the information?” You break the silence, hoping that the question distracts him from what you just admitted. You had assumed that he would jump at the chance, but when he relaxes against the back of the couch and rings his fingers, you realize that he was debating continuing this little chat.
“I have insulted you more times than I dare count, my lady. I fear I have lost any right I may have had to continue this conversation.” It is not the answer you expect out of him, especially now when you were willing to give him whatever knowledge he came for. The shy persona that takes over turns you on more than it should, especially when you have only pictured the Jedi in more compromising and violent positions, most of which involve you completely surrendering to his dominant demands.
“Do all Jedi give up this easily?” You let your arm fall behind him again, biting into your lower lip when you manage to touch the tips of his hair without having him shy away from you.
“Far from it, my darling. But unlike the others, I know when I should hold my tongue.” The pet name is surprising, so much so that you can’t control your thighs from clenching tightly as you imagine him calling you ‘his darling’ as he rails into you from behind.
“A true sign of a gentleman. But I still think you should try and make me an offer.” You are proud of how little you falter, more so because of how direct his gaze seems to be as he stares at you. There’s something on his mind, but you know better than to expect him to reveal it to you now so you brace yourself for whatever he is about to say.
“I will humor your remarks merely because you have been patient with mine. How much do you require in return for what you know?” He crosses his arms, and you swallow the lump in your throat at the slightly deeper and more strict tone his voice takes when he gives you his undivided attention yet again. Silence fills the space as you try your best to get control of the situation once more, but you know as soon as he smirks at you that you would never be fully in charge when it came to him.
“I have no need for your credits.” You bite your lower lip and wait for him to register what you’re after.
“You will have me beg only to refuse my offer?” His question is not the response you are hoping for, and you restrain yourself from rolling your eyes at him or simply straddling his lap to show him what you had in mind.
“You and I both know that cannot pass for begging. And besides, I may be cruel but only when I’m paid to be. I would never lead you on if I wasn’t sure you can deliver.” You are sure your words will drive the message across, but when he continues to look at you with nothing but confusion etched on his pretty face, you throw all caution out the window and get a little more forward with him. As slowly as you can, you slither your fingers across his jaw and down to his neck, not pausing for a moment as you descend to his chest and rest the palm of your hand on top of his heaving chest.
“What I want is not on the financial spectrum…but more physical in nature.” You make no other move on him, knowing that this is probably more than what he bargained for when he first entered the establishment. You sense the unease rolling off of him in heavy waves, and when you notice that he cannot take it anymore, you remove your hand and bring it to your nose, not caring for how ridiculous you look as you sniff it to try and get a whiff of his scent.
“P-Physical?” His voice breaks momentarily, and you almost apologize for making him uncomfortable, but then you study his body language and recognize all the signs you usually look for in a client.
The ones that tell you when they were ready for you.
“One hour of your time. That’s all I ask for.” You lean over until your lips almost touch his ears, whispering gently against his skin in hopes of easing whatever worries storming his mind.
“T-to do what exactly?” He clears his throat before he speaks, and if you weren’t still unsure of whether you were forcing yourself on him or not, you would have attacked his neck then and there to show him how much you craved him.
“I think you know.” He sucks in a deep breath at the sound of your confirmation, and you instantly regret how strongly you are coming onto him when you look down and see how tight he’s holding onto his knees.
“I- I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” It’s not the question you want to ask, but it is the one that escapes your lips when you finally move away from him and stand up. You have no right to ask him such an intimate question, and before you can apologize for your lack of propriety, the Jedi responds to you with such decisiveness that halts your thought process.
“Can’t.” He answers immediately, the quickness hurting you more than you cared to admit.
“I see.” You say nothing else as you lazily twirl around the cold pole in front of him, purposely letting the moment die out for his sake. He tries to catch your attention several times, but you ignore him and continue to distract yourself with the coolness sliding against your flushed skin.
“That’s hardly fair and you know it.” A hint of anger slips through his words, and you raise an eyebrow at him when you turn around and watch his features harden soon after. You were prepared to let it go, but the manner in which he gazes upon you, as if you were being unbelievably unhinged forces you to respond in kind.
“For me perhaps, certainly not for you.” You say in passing as you move towards the flasks on the table beside him. You don’t bother elaborating on your comment as you pour drinks for the two of you, but when you hand him his glass and watch the way his eyes shine with curiosity and reluctance, you sigh and step towards the pole on the platform once more.
“You’re telling me you find it unfair for you that I would both pleasure you and give you the information you seek in return for an hour of your time and no credits?” You down your drink instantly before setting it on the floor, unsure of where this conversation was now going.
“You cannot, in good faith, expect me to be so intimate with you, a complete stranger who may harm me in a moment of…vulnerability?” He hesitates, and you don’t bother stopping the laughter from bubbling up your throat at the last relayed sentiment. He must have considered you a great deal of danger if he thought you were capable of hurting him, a Jedi Master.
“Harm you with what? By all means, search me if you must.” You step towards him, and without thinking twice of why your actions could possibly prevent you from ever seeing him again, you unclip your bra and roll the straps down your arms, tossing it behind you before you place your hands on your hips and shrug your shoulders at him. The man’s eyes shoot wide open as he turns away from you to give you some semblance of privacy. You twirl around several times before seating yourself on the platform right next to his feet, purposely stretching your legs out to touch his calves. He glances at you once and clenches his jaw tightly when he notices your thighs fall wide open, giving him a perfect view of your clothed cunt.
“I- I think, perhaps, I should leave.” He’s finding it extremely difficult to breathe, that much you can tell, and you would consider it a small victory had it not been for the manner in which he rubs his knees harshly to focus on anything but your nude form.
“Hmm, maybe you are just shy after all.” You remark as you close your legs and cross your arms over your breasts to hide yourself from him.
“Well, it was worth a shot I guess. The shipments usually come at night once a week, not on an exact day from what I gathered though. I heard him say something about the new water supply cycle system? They’ll use it to smuggle things on and off world.” You can tell the second he registers what you’re telling him, his head snapping to you as soon as you start talking. You, on the other hand, can’t find it in yourself to look at him, especially now when you were barely clothed and giving him what he wanted all along. You come to regret the decision soon though, when you realize he was not planning on looking elsewhere as you continue to relay all that you knew.
“He also said they’re relying on heavily-populated areas to get by…said the best way to go unnoticed is by doing things out in the open on levels that are too busy for the guards to care for.” You dare to glance at him once, but as soon as you meet his eyes, you turn away instantly, unsure of what exactly his gaze was portraying at the moment.
“Next shipment is tomorrow night, not too far from here. Look for a restaurant with a logo that has a loth-cat riding on top of a droid…and I only know that because I remember him saying an extremely disgusting joke about paying to watch a loth-cat actually ride a droid…fucking bastard.” You try to ease the awkwardness of the circumstances the two of you now found yourselves in, but when he doesn’t budge, let alone make a sound to convey shock or gratitude, you stand up and turn to face the doorway, wanting to give both you and him a moment to collect yourselves before the eventual, awkward goodbye.
“If there’s nothing else, Master Jedi, I suggest you leave before-” The words die in your throat when you hear him stand up and approach you. Thinking that he was going to move around you to exit, you step aside and face the other way in an attempt to avoid his bold gaze.
“Little one,” the sound of his voice sends a bolt of lightning down your spine, momentarily distracting you from the cloud of compassion slowly showering you with warmth. It’s not until you feel his hand come up and rest on your shoulders that you realize he is not attempting to leave, but to turn you around so you could gaze upon you. You aren’t sure when your embarrassment is replaced with a need to touch him, and you can’t find it in yourself to care as you drop your arms from around your chest and reach for the robes tightly wrapped around his own. You rest both of your hands on top of his heart, wanting to feel grounded before the floor falls from beneath your feet as soon as he breaks the unbearable silence engulfing the two of you.
“You would part with such valuable information, knowing I could walk out this very instance and offer you nothing in return?” You don’t dare look up, afraid that you would break whatever semblance of control still left within you if you find kindness flowing within the blue orbs.
“I- I’m not cruel. I’ve been in this line of work long enough to know that being forced to be with someone takes away a part of you that you can never get back. I’d never want anyone to feel that way, especially someone like you who isn’t as used to this as someone like me.” The self-deprecating chuckle that fills the space between the two of you makes him flinch, and you finally muster up the courage to look up into his eyes when you notice his hands squeeze your shoulders tightly. What you find staring back at you is a feeling you never thought the universe could ever offer you, and you whisper an apology to amend whatever you said that made him uncomfortable.
“Besides, you’re just trying to do your job, and I won’t get in your way if it means you’re saving lives. My…desires…they’re nowhere near as important as whatever you’re trying to do.” The reluctance that halts you right before you admit your need for him makes him inhale deeply and you remove your hands from his body as soon as he takes a step back and walks behind you. You turn around just in time to see him remove the outer robe shielding him from your eyes.
“What- what are you doing?” You ask as he folds it neatly and sets it aside, not once bothering to pay you any attention as he unhooks the infamous, deadly weapon from the belt around his waist and sets it above his robes.
“You asked for an hour of my time,” the man finally responds, and you watch as he sits back on the couch and crosses his legs, the smile etched on his features letting you know that he was far from joking, “and an hour you shall get.”
“As much as I want this, I see reluctance and regret swimming in your eyes. I will not have you this way.” You bite back at him, not caring for your nudity as you approach him and point towards the door. You hope he can see how deadly serious you are in wanting him to leave, the mere thought of touching him in any manner after the clear discomfort he’s revealed to you making you more angry than you wished to be.
“Then in what way shall you have me?” He raises an eyebrow at you as he reaches for his drink and sips from it leisurely, as if he had all the time in the galaxy to continue having this conversation with you. If it weren’t for the fact that he was currently getting on your very last nerve, you would have spent more time admiring his reddened lips as they glistened with the corellian whisky he has ordered on every visit to the establishment.
“As long as you want this as well, I’ll have you in whatever way you’re most comfortable with. But again, I don’t think you truly want this so-” You fiddle with your fingers, the anger surrounding you suddenly ebbing away with each passing moment you continue to hold his gaze. He had an uncanny ability to set you at ease with just a glance, and you weren’t sure if it was because he was a Jedi that may have been controlling you—at least that’s what the rumors always said—or if it was because it was him.
“If- if I asked you to do what you wish with me without removing any of my robes, would you still want me?” He clears his throat mid question, and you snort in response at the absurdity of it. His demeanor, and quick avoidance of your eyes as you chuckle at him, confirm your suspicions from early on.
He had no sense of self-awareness, at least not when it came to understanding how inherently attractive he was.
“I find it difficult to think of any circumstance in which I wouldn’t want you. I have spent a great deal of time thinking of you in the past week. So, believe me when I tell you that I- maker, I desperately want you.” As much as you hate to admit it, you know that there is no point in lying to him after the past few minutes. You are defeated, and it surprises you how little you are annoyed by the admission you just offered him. Whereas you usually try to entice your clients enough for them to spill their desires to you first, you realize that this is much different than all of the others. You want him to know how much you crave him, even if it made you appear pathetic in his eyes. It was preposterous to ever admit to holding feelings for a Jedi, that much you knew from your time with the others, but to be so forward in your neediness in front of one was a one-way ticket to absolute madness.
“You barely know me, sweet one.” The deep accent, mixed with the endearing pet name easily falling from his lips, make you shiver where you stand, and you make your way to the couch to sit down beside him.
“I know enough. I know that touching you, even above your clothes, would give me pleasure I have not known in a long time. I know that looking into your eyes as I dance for you would make my heart beat faster because you- you seem like the kind of man who enjoys holding eye contact when you’re…being attended to. And- and I know that hearing you speak to me in that lovely accent of yours, no matter what you say, would make me come in a matter of minutes.” You wrap your arms around your shoulders again, suddenly feeling shy beneath his gaze. The way his body seems to buzz with energy with every confession you relay to him should have put your mind at ease, but when you look down and notice how tightly his fingers dig into his clothes, you can’t help but become more affected by his presence, and the clear way in which he was reacting to you in return, as if he was barely holding himself back from touching you.
“You don’t have to do much for me to be at your will.” You finally manage to turn your attention to him, and you regret it almost instantaneously when you see the mischievousness etched in his dilated pupils.
Fuck, maybe you weren’t so far off in reading his body language after all.
“Is that so?” His voice is deep, much deeper than a second ago, and you gulp nervously as you acknowledge the reason behind such a change.
“Yes, Master Jedi.” Your answer lingers in the tense air, and you rub your thighs together when you notice his jaw clenching tightly at the sound of his title being whispered with a lewdness unfit to be aimed at him.
“Obi-Wan.” He says as he reaches for his drink, chuckling to himself when he turns back to you and sees confusion written in your eyes.
“My name, sweetheart, is Obi-Wan.” He repeats, and it takes you a moment too long to finally register the name he just claimed as his own. A hint of shock and apprehension takes over you, and if the Jedi Master notices the way your body becomes on edge as soon as you replay his name in your mind, he doesn’t comment, not wanting to give you any reason to feel fearful as well.
“Y-you’re General Obi-Wan Kenobi?” You don’t mean for your voice to come out as squeaky as it does, but the smile that greets you sets your mind at ease. Had you known the man you have been dreaming of for the past few rotations was Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, you would have attempted to stop your mind from wandering sooner.
“You are familiar then?” He asks, as if he doesn’t know that his reputation precedes him everywhere he goes.
“No wonder they leave your image out of the holos…you’re too damn beautiful for your own good. One look at you and the Temple would get an influx of job applications just so people can glance at you.” You allow your eyes to roam down his form more obviously this time, wanting to show him that you were not afraid of continuing whatever game he was playing with you.
“Flattery will not gain you another hour, dear heart.” Obi-Wan teases as he rubs his auburn beard, and once again, you can’t help but lick your lips as you watch his fingers comb through his hair with ease, pretending they were caressing your own chin as you gave yourself to him.
“It’s not flattery, believe me. I’ve seen my fair share of handsome men from across this galaxy, but I must say…none have ever made my mouth water with the mere sight of them.” You say as you cross your legs and throw your arm over the pillow in between the two of you. Ever the gentleman, his eyes never once drop to your breasts, and you get the sense that he was trying his hardest to pretend that he didn’t want to memorize every bit of your nude skin.
“Maker, your tongue is a dangerous weapon, one I should disarm before it causes any more damage.” He turns to face you, mirroring your actions and throwing his own arm behind the back of the couch. His fingers almost descend to touch your forearm, but he holds himself back, unsure of whether he was allowed to be so familiar with you or not.
“If you give me the chance, I can show you just how dangerous it can be.” Unlike him, you stop shying away from his touch, and extend your fingers above until they come in contact with his clothed biceps. You thought he would flinch as soon as he felt your fingers, but he doesn’t and decides to return in kind. He moves his hand down and caresses the top of your shoulder with two fingers, smirking to himself when he sees goosebumps erupt across your skin instantly.
“As tempting as that sounds, I do believe you owe me a dance.” Obi-Wan refuses to take his eyes off from where he’s warming you with his touch, and against your better judgment, you lean down far enough until you feel his knuckles bump against your cheek. You pray that he understands what it is you’re asking of him, and when he lets go altogether and returns far from your reach, you sigh with desperation and move to the platform in front of him.
“Before we start, I need to ask. What am I allowed to do to you?”
“Whatever you desire, as long as it leaves no visible markings.” Obi-Wan’s self-assured smile drops for a moment before it graces his features again, and if you weren’t already so desperate to attend to him, you would have stopped and reminded him that he was welcome to leave any time he wanted to. You twirl once around the pole before making your way to the screen at the other end of the room, scrolling through the varying tunes to find one that you thought perfect for him.
“Where can I touch you, Master Obi-Wan?” You ask as you continue your search, not wanting to turn around until you are sure of the song.
“Wherever you please, my lady.” Whereas he took a few moments to respond to your previous questions, his reply is instantaneous, making you smile at how affected he was quickly becoming by you. As your eyes dance over the different tunes, your fingers stop sliding across the screen when you finally find what you’re looking for. You select the track and clear your throat before turning around to face him.
“You are sure?” You ask one last time, not wanting him to feel any ounce of regret before you begin.
“Positive.” He says as he takes another sip from his drink and licks the droplets adorning his lower lip.
“What if I- if the moment calls for it, may I kiss you?” You approach the pole slowly, reaching for it and sliding your palms up and down the cold steel while maintaining eye contact with him. He chooses this moment to finally take in your nudity, and you nearly topple over when you see him bite his lip and slide one of his hands down his chest until it rests against his navel. You follow the movement like a loth-wolf, only looking away when he clears his throat and speaks.
“You are a needy one, aren’t you?” He scratches his stomach lewdly, and for a brief moment, you think he may move his hand a little lower to cup his crotch and relieve the pain he was surely feeling.
“Please?” You beg as innocently as you can, batting your eyelashes at him as you trail your fingers across your breasts until he groans lowly and slithers his hand lower.
“Since you plead so sweetly, yes. You may kiss me if you wish…wherever you want.” Obi-Wan adds the last bit when he sees you getting distracted by the slow movement of his hand across his crotch, laughing to himself when you trip over your own feet and nearly topple over.
“Maker,” you barely manage to stand up again, reaching for the pole with both of your hands so you don’t embarrass yourself and fall over before you even start. You want to narrow your eyes at him for playing dirty with you, but as the low beat of the song increases in volume, you do your best to shut him out of your mind long enough to regain your composure. As the words finally wash over the room, you twirl around and gently lower your body down the pole, never once breaking eye contact with Obi-Wan as you let the music lead you through the slithering movement.
With each touch of your fingers against your damp skin, Obi-Wan feels his pants growing tighter around his cock, and you smile to yourself when you notice his smirk falter for a breadth of a second before his face suddenly turns blank. You fear that you may not be pleasing to him, but as he drags his attention down your form and palms his crotch slowly, you throw your head back and sigh in relief. You wanted to show him what he’s missing, and as you move to the ground and arch your back along with the sensual tune, you turn to face him again and bite into your lower lip, not caring for how wanton you may appear to him as you spread your thighs wide open and push two fingers into your mouth.
To his credit, he somehow doesn’t react to your behavior, but you notice the hint of red making its way across his sweaty skin as you slide your fingers down your sternum and stomach, making a mess of your drool as you continue until your fingers touch the edge of your lace panties. Obi-Wan doesn’t blink, and part of you wants to ask him if he was feeling unwell, tease him a bit like he has for the past week, but you choose to say nothing and push your fingers into your panties.
He takes in a deep breath through his nose, the hissing sound making you gush down your thighs almost instantly. The sound is more erotic than it should be, and you forgo every reason why you shouldn’t do what you’re about to do next. Before you can think twice of it, you push the flimsy article of clothing aside and rub the wetness glistening across your cunt.
Obi-Wan’s expression becomes stern, and his muscles seize up as soon as you push the tips of your fingers past your wet folds, the shallow thrusts driving out more of your cum for his eyes to commit to memory. He swallows thickly and tilts his head forward, wanting to get a better view of your pussy as you alternate between teasing your clit with figure-eights and pushing your juices in and out of your cunt until they stream down your cheeks.
As soon as he leans his whole body towards you however, you remove your fingers from between your legs and push your body up, kneeling directly in front of him so you can rest your hands on your thighs. The Jedi Master clenches his fists tightly, and you hope that this is what finally pushes him to claim you. But when he doesn’t move another muscle, you pout and fall forward on your hands. Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow at you, and you aren’t sure if he is angry or unbelievably horny at your teasing. You pray to the maker that it’s a bit of both, and just to push your luck further, you crawl his way and tap against his knees, silently asking him if you are allowed to touch him any further. He says nothing, and for a second, you think he may actually shake his head and ask you to move away from him. Thankfully, you don’t turn your attention elsewhere and manage to notice the little nod of consent he offers you.
As carefully as possible, you move to your feet and turn around, bending down one last time as the music shifts to give him a perfect view of the wet fabric shielding you from his hungry eyes. He moves his hands away from his legs in time for you to descend down and seat yourself in his lap. His thighs are wide open and you shiver when you get comfortable and feel his hard cock jut against your asscheeks. You roll your hips several times and laugh when you glance to the side and see his knuckles turn white from how hard he’s fisting his hands.
Not wanting to drive him away, you throw one leg over each of his thighs and lay back until you can feel his firm stomach support your back. You look up and giggle at the furious gaze already aimed at you, the sound only making the Jedi Master’s eyes glow dangerously. This close, you can smell the intoxicating, masculine scent of him, and it makes you dizzier with each breath you take. For a moment, you forget what you’re meant to be doing, but when the song reaches a high note, you remember your mission and reach your hands above your head, softly caressing the skin of his neck and feeling a sense of pride fill your chest when you feel how hot he is.
You’re about to ask him if he is still willing to have you continue your dance when the song changes and distracts you. As the tune registers in your mind, goosebumps erupt across your skin at the prospect of being at the mercy of the gentleman beneath you. You had expected him to be more disheveled by now, but when you sit up and turn around in his lap, you find him quiet and direct in his gaze. You falter in your actions, unsure of what you should be doing now that you can see how less affected he was than you. You want to break the tense silence filling the air, but as your eyes take in the specimen of the man, you can’t help but reach out and rest both of your palms against his chest. It expands as soon as you begin to gyrate your hips once more, and before you know what you’re doing, you move one hand to his broad shoulders while the other descends down and digs into his stomach. He’s all hard muscle beneath you, and your breath hitches at the prospect of being underneath his body, with nowhere else to go, unable to do anything that he doesn’t allow.
The sound of his soft laugh scares you out of your haze, and you remove your hands immediately, not wanting to offend him by your forwardness. Before you can completely move off of him, however, Obi-Wan reaches for your wrists and pulls on them until you’re seated fully on top of him again. His eyes roam down your flushed skin before returning to your own dilated orbs, not saying anything as he continues to chuckle and puts your hands on his chest. He doesn’t let go until he’s sure you won’t move away from him, and as soon as he removes his grip, you mourn the loss of his touch, looking down at your skin to see if the fire spreading across your fingertips was real or if it was merely a feeling he imprinted on your body.
“I- I must really not be pleasing to you if you’re looking at me and laughing.” You crack a smile, but it barely reaches your ears. You hope that he doesn’t notice how disappointed you are in his reaction to your performance, but when you turn your attention from his collar to his features, you can tell that he can see the sudden lack of excitement exuding from your whole body.
“It is not your performance I find amusing, little one, but the manner in which you gaze upon me.” Obi-Wan remarks as he allows himself to touch you more intimately, sliding his palms up and down your thighs as if he was trying to calm down a loth-cat. You shiver at the contact, not bothering to hide the effect he was having on you as you melt against him and slowly place your hands atop his. He doesn’t stop, and instead smiles softly at you as he reaches past your upper thighs and grabs your hips. He squeezes you gently, and when your breath hitches at the heat spreading across your form, he holds onto you a little bit harder until you can’t help but meet his gaze.
“How so?” The question barely comes out louder than a whisper, and you watch with fascination as the Jedi Master shamelessly eyes your heaving chest and licks his lips at the sight of your hardened nipples.
“Of the two of us, I am more decent. Yet you look upon me as if I am a jorgan fruit when it is I who should consider you among the ripest of sweets.” The eloquence with which he speaks elevates your heart rate, and you don’t realize how hard you’re breathing until he drags one of your hands to his mouth and lays the softest of kisses right above your wrist. You stop breathing altogether, too captivated by the gesture to focus on anything but him, and the confidence he exuded with something as simple as a kiss.
Obi-Wan doesn’t let go of you, not even when you look away from him and attempt to get back to what you were doing before. He rests your hand on his chest again, letting go of you only to drag his fingers across your nude form until he has your waist beneath his touch. You expect him to guide you across his lap, but he does nothing of the sort, opting to just keep his touch on your heated skin while you take whatever you want from him.
“Hmm, it’s a shame they hide you behind all those hideous Jedi robes.” You say as you guide your hands up and down his chest, not caring for how wanton you must appear to him as you slide one of your fingers past the brown robes covering his chest so you can get a little closer to his body. You know he must be wearing multiple layers but something about feeling his muscles a little better than before sends you into a frenzy, and you roll your hips against his crotch in an attempt to get a rise out of him.
But he wouldn’t be who he is if he didn’t have unspeakable self-control, and you silently curse him for being so contained when he doesn’t even increase pressure on your waist or change his expression to warn you. He just stares, and although the blue in his eyes is barely visible, you can tell that he isn’t going to fall to your antics any time soon.
“Then again, we can’t have you walking around distracting everyone with your impressive form.” You lean forward until his breath fans over your cheeks, and as you turn to the side to kiss his jaw, you slide your hands up his body and cup his neck to make sure he won’t turn away from you. To your surprise, his grip tightens around your waist and pulls you firmly against him. You’re not sure if he wants you to comment on the thickness hitting your inner thigh or not, but you say nothing and enjoy the slow and steady movement he’s leading you through against him.
“On second thought, maybe they should put you in more revealing robes. You can distract the enemy with those thick thighs of yours, perhaps even your hands.” You shut your eyes and whisper into his ears, giggling against his skin as he digs his nails into your muscles and forces you to stop. You want to lean back to get a better look at him, but something tells you that if you were to make eye contact with him now, you would forgo whatever self-respect you still had and get on all fours for him. Thankfully, Obi-Wan breaks the silence and responds to your brazen remarks.
“I have heard many compliments before, but never one addressing my hands.”
“That’s a shame, Master Obi-Wan,” you sit up slowly and wait until you have his undivided attention before you take hold of one of his hands, winking at him as you intertwine your fingers with his own and squeeze them gently, “your hands are the first things I noticed about you.”
“Hmm.” Obi-Wan hums when he sees you drag his hand to your mouth until your lips come in contact with one of his fingers. The low sound emanating from his chest makes you shift across his lap to alleviate the pressure threatening to embarrass you further, and you stick your tongue out to lick the tip of his thumb as soon as you notice his eyes roam down your body and almost take notice of the damp material shielding you from him.
“The way you rub your beard with them when you’re in deep thought makes me wish I could feel them on my skin. They’ve been on my mind all week long if I’m being honest.” You somehow manage to confess your desires to him without tripping over your words, and you choose to suck his thumb deeper into your mouth right as he attempts to respond to you.
“And what-” the words die in his throat as soon as he feels the heat of your mouth engulf his thumb completely, and he clenches his jaw tightly when your tongue swirls around his finger several times until it’s completely drenched with your drool. “I apologize, what have you thought of when you studied them?” He manages to ask when you finally stop torturing him, but the relief barely remains because you drop his hand suddenly and throw your head back in pleasure when his palm accidentally grazes your breast, the wet thumb barely coming in contact with your nipple before he’s snatching his hand away as if you were molten fire. You snap your attention back to him a moment later, smiling to yourself when you see his pink features blush a deeper shade of red.
Unlike before, when you could clearly see discomfort etched across his entire body from how intimately you were touching him, you’re taken aback by how oddly calm he is now, and you gyrate your hips a little more aggressively on top of him when you feel his hands grab even harder onto your waist and push you back and forth against him. Neither of you say anything as he slowly moves against you, and you return your attention to his chest in an attempt to ground yourself. The last thing you expected from him, especially after the earlier conversation, was to be so comfortable in touching you, let alone allow you to be so forward with him. You bite into your lower lip when you see him wet his unfairly-kissable lips, and as he mirrors your actions and his eyes darken the longer he looks at you, you moan at the thought of finally tasting him.
“I thought about if they would feel soft as you trailed them across my neck…or if they would feel calloused from battle as you- maker, as you touched me somewhere more intimate.” Throwing all caution aside, you slither both of your hands down his body until they’re right above his wrists, and before you can get embarrassed by what you’re doing, you drag one of them up your body until he cups one of your breasts, pushing the other one in between your thighs to show him just how much you want him. Obi-Wan sucks in a harsh breath at finally feeling the effect he is having on you, and he barely manages to hold back from fondling your tits or slipping his fingers past your wet panties. He doesn’t dare move a muscle, afraid that whatever spell the two of you were bound by would evaporate and he would be reminded why he shouldn’t be here, beneath you, allowing you to touch him so carelessly. Before he can take his hands back, however, you finish the rest of your confession and send his thoughts into a frenzy, one he hoped he would never fall into again.
“I thought of how difficult it would be for me to break from them if you held me down as you- stars, as you moved against me.” With each word you whisper to him, you thrust your crotch harshly against the hard outline on his trousers, all the while moaning his name when his hands flex unintentionally and send a strike of pleasure down your spine. He is yet to move his fingers on top of you, but you find ecstasy in the warmth of his skin regardless. When you look down and see his eyes glaze over with pure desperation, you stop moving your hips and lean forward until you’re a hairbreadth away from his lips.
“I thought of how deliciously painful they would feel if you tugged on my hair as you, hmm.” You don’t finish the rest of your sentiment, a part of you hoping that this would be the push he needs to put the two of you out of your misery. Obi-Wan says nothing for what feels like hours, but as soon as you tilt your head to the side and hover your lips over his, he breaks the silence and shuts his eyes in anticipation.
“As I what?”
He expects you to finish what you started, let go and mold your lips with his until neither of you can breathe. He even parts his lips and leans forward to let you know that he doesn’t mind whatever you want to do to him. But when he doesn’t feel you grow closer to him, his eyes flutter open and he furrows his eyebrows as he registers the smirk etched on your pretty features.
“I don’t want to offend your sensibilities, remember?” You whisper to him teasingly, and if Obi-Wan hadn’t spent decades mastering the art of self-control, he’s sure he would have had you caged beneath him on the floor within the blink of an eye. You raise a curious eyebrow at him, letting out a faint giggle when you look into his eyes and see the fury threatening to overtake you at any given moment. In all honesty, you expect him to pull you into his embrace and kiss you harshly until you can’t feel anything but him. You even thought he would ask you before he would do such a thing, seeing as he was more of a gentleman than the others who visited you.
Or so you thought…
What you don’t expect, however, was to suddenly feel his hand combing through your hair and tugging on it violently until the only thing you could register was the pain spreading across your scalp. You fall forward rather unceremoniously, crying out in a mixture of ecstasy and hurt when he drags the other hand up your body and rests it across your neck. You barely have any time to come to terms with what’s happening, and as you try to sit up so you can look into his eyes, the Jedi Master brings you flush against him and sits up, not bothering to apologize for the way he’s manhandling you as he applies more pressure on your neck to grab your attention.
“As. I. What?” He spits the words out while studying your features for any discomfort, and you smile deeply at him the harder he chokes the air out of your lungs. The hand in your hair tugs violently onto your locks and you try to throw your head back to move along with him, but he doesn’t let you, instead keeping your head centered so you can’t look anywhere else but into his eyes. What you find staring back at you should be terrifying, the sheer need to possess and claim every bit of you coming to light so naturally to him, but you swallow the lump in your throat and surrender yourself completely to him, knowing that you would never be safer than you were in this moment.
“As you fucked me until the whole of Coruscant knew who was making me feel so kriffing good.” You choke through the words, whimpering his name to plead with him one last time in hopes of finally getting what you want. The sound of his name falling from your lips must be all he needs to hear because your entire body falls forward soon after, and you are met with a pair of soft, hungry lips covering your own in a heated kiss. You're shocked by the turn of events, but the surprise wears off a second later when Obi-Wan sneaks his tongue into your mouth and begins to taste you. You want to maneuver yourself to get more comfortable, but the hold he has on you doesn’t give you any room to move a muscle without his approval. He must know what you want to do because he tilts your head to the side and moans as you melt against him and part your lips wider. You shiver at his dominant touch, grasping onto his robes to keep yourself grounded when the hand in your hair slides down your backside and pushes you impossibly closer to him.
Your lips fall apart at the intimacy of the moment, and you feel your skin flush with goosebumps at being so naked with a fully-dressed Jedi beneath you. He doesn’t slow down once, continuing his assault on your lips until you can no longer breathe, until the only option left for you is to silently beg him to break apart. Your heaving chest draws his attention for a fraction of a second, his eyes trailing down your neck to your sternum with a hunger he never thought he would feel again. When you don’t open your eyes, Obi-Wan leans down and licks across your clavicle, moaning your name repeatedly as the taste of your sweet perfume and sweat seeps into his senses. You call out his name repeatedly, pushing your breasts closer to his mouth in an attempt to tempt his lips to wrap around your nipples and stake his claim on you. Obi-Wan takes advantage of your incoherence, pulling away from your nude body until you were no longer experiencing the heat of his body. He waits until your eyes flutter open before he completely lets go of you and rests his hands on his thighs.
“Good girl, now get on your knees.” He eyes your shaking form and chuckles to himself at the ease with which he already has you wrapped around his finger.
“W-what?” You try to escape the haze he’s placed you under, but all you can think of is the heated look he’s giving you as he reaches over and grabs his drink. You’re still seated in his lap, but unlike before, when he ensured you were touching every bit of him, Obi-Wan spreads his legs wider until you can only straddle one of his thighs.
“I said, on your knees.” He nods towards the ground, taking a sip from his drink and making a show of swallowing the bitter liquid as you obey him and move to the space in between his thighs. You keep your hands on his knees, unsure of where exactly you were allowed to touch him. Your compliance makes his cock painfully hard, and he hisses in discomfort when he tries to adjust himself and only brings his crotch closer to your mouth. It’s getting extremely difficult to breathe, and Obi-Wan attempts to distract himself by reaching for your hair and moving it to the side so he can take a better look at you. You follow his touch like a kitten, and he bites into his cheek to prevent himself from dragging you against the wall and shoving his cock into your wet pussy until you couldn’t feel anything but him. He snatches his hand back, afraid of what he would do to you should you continue chasing his touch the way you are now.
“Now, be a dear heart and make yourself come on my shoe.” Obi-Wan commands with a dominance you never thought you would be at the receiving end of, let alone from him. Sure the other Jedi tended to lean towards similarly assertive tendencies, but something about the tone with which he was aiming at you now made you clench your thighs and sigh in desperation.
“I- I don’t think I can.” You respond with feigned innocence, wanting him to slowly approach the point of no return with you. You had a feeling he was capable of much more than he was showing you now, and you wanted to see how far you can go before he would lose it all together and do whatever he pleased with your willing body. However, Obi-Wan was much smarter, and even more patient, than you gave him credit for. He smiles deeply, an expression you would have credited to a Sith than a Jedi, and leans down until you can practically taste his breath on your tongue.
“Perhaps you would be more willing to try if I offered you an incentive? Make yourself come on my shoe before I finish my drink,” he makes a show of swirling his drink around until he was sure you were giving him your undivided attention, “and you can use either of my hands for your own pleasure. I will, of course, happily oblige should you need the necessary…motions.” His eyes glisten dangerously, and had you not seen his kindness firsthand, you would have thought him capable of the most vicious mind tricks, ones that led you into this very moment purposely. You eyes the drink for a moment before gazing into his eyes, not bothering to hide your nervousness as you swallow the lump in your throat and reach for his hand. He doesn’t move a muscle, taking in the way you caress his knuckles slowly with one finger before enveloping his whole hand with your own. Neither of you is sure whose skin is running hot, but you don’t dwell too long on it, certainly not when he was letting you touch him so closely without disagreement. You pass your fingers gently over the veins adorning the top of his hand, and if you weren’t being asked to make a decision quickly, you would have asked him if it was possible to worship both of his hands to further prove how much you ache for him.
But that wasn’t the case, and you needed to give him an answer soon, before he thought twice of what he was doing and retraced his words.
“But you said that I can’t leave any visible markings on you!?” You mean to tease him further, long enough to prepare yourself to do whatever he wants, but your words have a somewhat opposite effect on him because a flash of regret, just a slight bit, passes through his features before the smile settles again. You expect him to come to his senses now, realize that he shouldn’t be doing this with you, but the opposite occurs, and you sink comfortably against him as he leans back and relaxes against the couch.
“The terms have changed,” the effortless manner with which he answers you makes you shift closer to him, and you grab onto his thigh when he widens his stance and moves his leg until the leather of his boot nestles perfectly in between your thighs, “and right now, I desperately wish to see you drench me with your essence.” Obi-Wan doesn’t react to your surprised expression, tilting his head to the side in amusement when you blink nervously at him as you look down and settle yourself on top of his shoe. You dig your nails into the fabric of his trousers in an attempt to have better control over your motions. The Jedi Master doesn’t move one muscle, wanting to see how willing you are to listen to him, especially now that he’s requested from you a rather embarrassing feat.
Ignoring the embarrassment quickly filling your lungs, you bite into your lower lip and look up into Obi-Wan’s eyes as you move your hips forward once. Your breath catches in your throat at the coarse sensation spreading up your spine, and you regret not taking off your panties before getting down on your knees for him. When you find nothing but sheer pleasure etched on Obi-Wan’s face, you buck your hips once more, moaning softly when you feel his foot move to rub against your clothed cunt a little more harshly. With each motion you take over his boot, the Jedi Master moves his foot along with you, all the while taking small sips from his drink to enjoy the effect he was having on you.
As your ministrations increase, you find more pleasure in the contact between your wet folds and the wet, rough patch of your lace panties as they catch against your clit each time Obi-Wan raises his foot or pushes it forward to stroke you harder. At a particular push from Obi-Wan, your body falls forward and you rest your cheek against his thigh. As soon as you hear his chuckle, you begin to fuck yourself on his shoe without a care for how you look, the need to reach your pleasure outdoing any shyness you may have held for acting like loth-cat in heat.
“Oh little one, you would truly obey any command I give you, wouldn’t you?” His chuckle should have pushed you away from him, made you realize how ridiculous you look as you use his foot to get off. But it holds the opposite effect on you, and you manage to look up through dazed eyes just in time to respond to him and push yourself down harder on his now soaking boot.
“Yes M-master.” Your response must not be what Obi-Wan expects because his eyes widen for a fraction of a second before he clears his throat and takes another sip from his drink. He watches with fascination as you continue to ride his boot, briefly looking down at your shaking thighs to commit to memory the dance your body was gracing him with.
“Look at you, using my shoe to get off. You must be desperate to come if you’re acting like a cockdumb w-” He shakes his head as he talks down to you, and it’s only when you part your lips and bite into his thigh that he catches the words that were about to spill into the air and offend you. His body goes rigid, not because you seem to quicken your actions at the outburst of words he threw at you, but because he allowed himself to be careless enough to almost degrade you.
“Please, keep…keep talking,” you’re panting at this point, violently rubbing your pussy down on his foot to reach that little high he’s promised to extend should you obey his commands. When he doesn’t respond right away, you force yourself to look up at him and silently beg him to continue.
“I- I didn’t mean to-” Obi-Wan trips over his words, and you groan in irritation when you feel your orgasm begin to fade away now that he wasn’t moving his foot or talking you into coming on him.
“Stop fucking apologizing and keep talking. I don’t care what- what you say. Call me whatever you want to call me, just please…please keep talking.” You snap at him in anger, only to panic as you realize how he may react. Maker, if he chose this very moment to punish you for your words, for presuming to speak with him in such a way, you think you might actually die from the sheer sexual frustration he’s placed you under. A few silent moments pass, but you don’t stop once, widening your legs further so you can feel as much of the leather of his boot pass over your cunt as possible. You throw your head down, resting on his knee as you fuck yourself on his boot, and only when you sense him moving beneath you do you finally look up into his eyes.
“My darling girl is nothing but a whore for me, isn’t she?” His voice is raw, his tone almost as needy as you are, and you drag your lower lip in between your teeth as soon as he comes forward and whispers down at you. “You’re a whore for a Jedi Master you barely know. I have barely touched you, yet your sweet cunt is weeping for me, begging for me.” The truth overshadowing his words shouldn’t make you want him more, but you cry out his name as you wrap your mind around what he’s revealing to you. A small, more coherent voice in the back of your mind warns of the consequences of proving him right, but you brush it aside as his boot moves up and down against your clothed cunt. “That’s it, get my shoe nice and wet for me. Let me walk around with the scent of you etched on my clothes.” You move your hands up his thighs, closer to where you wish you can touch him, and Obi-Wan waits until your palms near his crotch before distracting your mind, winking once at you as he tips his drink back and swallows down the bittersweet drink.
“How do you feel, little star?” He sets the drink down on his other thigh as he rubs his mustache and beard, his chest filling with pride when he sees the effect such a simple action has on you.
“I- I want more, please.” You plead with him, letting go of his clothes to reach down and push your panties to the side. But Obi-Wan is much quicker, and you feel an invisible hold clasp onto your wrist and prevent you from moving so much as an inch. Shock replaces the shameless hunger that has overtaken your entire body, and you look down to see if he’s somehow grabbed hold of your hand without you noticing. When you see that there was clearly nothing wrapped around your skin, you shoot your attention back to him and gasp as realization washes over you.
Maker.
He was using the Force to control you.
Not even the other Jedi dared to dominate you in such a way. They often spoke of how unique and sacred their connection with the Force was. To be at the receiving end of such power, especially when it was Obi-Wan who was coaxing you into submission, made you feel special.
It was exhilarating.
“Give me what I asked for, and you will get more.” He says matter-of-factly, causing you to flinch at the sudden edge dancing in his voice. You don’t try to move your hand again, unsure of what would happen should he mistake your attempt to return your hand to his thigh as a silent request to let go of you. He must be able to read your mind somehow because he moves your hand back to his thigh for you, the corner of his mouth turning up into a grin as your body shakes with newfound energy. He doesn’t dwell too long on your reaction to having him control you through the Force, knowing that if he were to humor it for another second, he would have complete control over your body in the blink of an eye and decide to have his way with you.
“Kriff, can you at least ahh-” Your needy response snaps him out of his momentary haze, the sound of your voice turning into a rather inappropriate groan shooting straight to his cock. He can feel himself harden the longer he studies your ecstasy, and it takes every ounce of control in his body to not reach down and free his cock so he could shove it in your mouth.
“What does my needy little cockslut want? Use your words, my darling, and tell me what it is you desire.” He asks instead, hoping that you can distract him long enough to finally give him what he wanted ever since he walked into the room.
“Y-your hands.” The whispered confession makes him straighten his back, and were it not for the constant pull and push of your hips against him, Obi-Wan is sure he would have been the one begging you to touch him.
“How do you want them?” He humors you, knowing fully well that he isn’t going to retract his promise and give you his hand sooner than he intends.
“In my hair…a-around my throat, in my mouth…I don’t care Master, I just want you to touch me with your hands. Please, I’ll do anything you want.” The sinful exclamation hits Obi-Wan like a blaster, and he realizes quickly that his previous thought was far from the truth. He was sure of the extent to which you wanted him, but he never thought you were the type to be so lust-hazed and shameless to the point of outright telling him that you would do anything he asked of you just to have him touch you with his hands.
“You may regret those words, darling girl.” Obi-wan comments dangerously, and you frantically shake your head at him to prove to him that you are telling the truth.
“Oh maker, I’m so close. Please Master, touch me.” You beg one last time, praying to the maker that he has mercy on you and gives you what you need to finally reach that inevitable ecstasy. You’ve lost yourself to the sensation dragging deliciously against your wet cunt, focusing every last bit of your attention on rubbing your clit over the smooth leather of his boots repeatedly until you finally come and please him. As you drag your pussy over and over again, you vaguely feel him moving above you, and somehow manage to open your eyes just in time to see him stare you down as he brings the glass to his lips and drink down the last bit of whiskey, the few droplets adorning his lips forcing you to cry out in pain at the thought of not meeting his expectations, and in turn, missing out on feeling his hands roam over your body.
“No, no please I’m-” before you can finish whatever desperate plea threatening to make you look even more ridiculous, Obi-Wan slams the whisky glass down on the table beside him before reaching out and taking hold of your neck. You throw your head back to relish the hot, tight feeling of his palm as it squeezed your jugular tightly, only to gasp his name lewdly when his other hand twists in your hair and tugs on it until he has full control of your upper body. You part your lips in a silent scream, looking into Obi-Wan’s dilated orbs through heavy-lidded eyes as he brings your attention back to him in time to watch you fall apart at his touch. He parts his lips in kind, exhaling slowly as he commits to memory the intimacy of the moment, the quickness with which your beautiful, debauched features change as you’re on the verge of coming. The Jedi Master leans down even closer until he’s breathing the same air you are, and he tightens his hold on your neck one last bit, enough to push you over the edge and watch as you come undone for him.
“I…I’m cuh- ahhhh,” the words die in your throat as you seize up, and Obi-Wan uses this moment to his advantage, quickly moving his foot back and forth when he notices you are no longer able to move on top of him. He glances down just in time to see his boot glisten with your cum, and he swears silently at the filthy sight of your lace panties drenching further the harder he rubs his boot against you. He tilts his head to the side to lay the softest of kisses over your forehead, not bothering to stop his ministrations until he has coaxed every last ounce of pleasure from you. He had asked you to fuck yourself on his boot, and you obeyed him with enthusiasm. Although you didn’t particularly carry out his command, Obi-Wan understood the difficulty of what he asked. His “aid” had nothing to do with his need to mark your body with his touch or see evidence of your pleasure seep onto his clothes. Not at all.
At least that’s what he would tell himself long after he returns home.
His attention returns to you once more when he feels your body go limp against him. Your hands suddenly let go of his trousers and you sigh heavily as you melt into his touch. Obi-Wan feels an invisible string tug at his heart when he sees your vulnerability push through everything else threatening to distract him away from the intimacy of the moment. He’s unsure of the sudden emotions threatening to overtake him, and it’s only when he opens up to your Force signature that he finally understands the storm brewing in his chest.
You were, in every sense of the word, completely submitting to him.
And your Force signature, with its fiery and heated flares, was longing for the merest of touches from his own, somewhat controlled aura. He was shaking, partially from the trust you were offering to me, but mostly due to the yearning he felt through the Force, as if you were reaching out to him with reluctance and hope, wishing that he would offer you a similar sentiment.
His hold loosens around your neck as he becomes increasingly distracted by you, and as he tries to maneuver you around so you don’t fall to the ground, he accidentally moves his foot and causes you to flinch to life from how sensitive you probably were. A shiver courses down your spine at the touch of the leather in between your thighs, and you try to help him with your body weight, but fail miserably when it occurs to you that he’s truly rendered you motionless.
“Come here, little one.” He soothes your muscles as he drapes you over his lap, until you rest your head on his shoulder and your legs lay across his body comfortably.
“You did so well for me, so well for your Master.” Obi-Wan tilts your chin up, smiling down at the blissed out expression you grace him with before he leans down and kisses your forehead again. The hair of his beard tickles you softly, and when he begins to move away, you seek him out and slide your hands up his neck, wanting to touch as much of him as possible. He chuckles at your neediness, throwing his head back momentarily when you nuzzle into his neck and inhale deeply.
“T-thank you,” you whisper in return, all the while fisting your hands into the fabric of his beige tunic to feel grounded. It’s not possible to return to your senses so soon, but you feel as if your skin will crawl with ants if you aren’t touching him closely and relishing in the proximity he’s offering you so willingly. You stick your nose into the side of his neck as you bring yourself impossibly closer to him, wanting to commit his scent and his taste, and the rigidity of his muscular body to memory. The man has only teased you for the past week, even more so in the past hour alone, so you couldn’t pass up the chance of diving into this sensation if you could. He was here, in your arms, letting you do as you pleased with him as if you were more to each other than complete strangers, as if your link of work wasn’t accidently entangled with his for the time being.
Your eyes flutter open when your brain finally comes to again, and you’re met with a rather reddened patch of skin extending down from his cheeks to his neck. You turn away to take a better look at him, your breath hitching dramatically when you find his normally blue eyes almost as black as the night. It wasn’t as if you thought he wouldn’t be affected by your actions, but you were definitely shocked by the extent to which he was, especially when you were the one pleading for him to pull you towards that high. You blink once before you lean up and kiss his jaw, finding the thick hair adorning his handsome features more of a turn on that you cared to admit. He groans when your lips rest on his cheek, the simple gesture meant to illustrate to him the depths of your need instead sending a strike of heat straight to his cock. He hates that it makes him twitch in his pants, how soft your lips caress his skin, how heated it makes him feel when it doesn’t compare anywhere near what you just did to him.
For him.
When he’s sure you won’t mind it, Obi-Wan slips his hand over your clavicle and grabs the hair at the nape of your neck, waiting until you pull away from him before he breaks the silence.
“As promised…my hands to do with whatever you desire.” The cheeky comment breathes life into your body and you rest your head on his hand when you notice him trying to pull away. He pauses for a moment, looking across your features to commit every crease and every flushed skin to memory. Knowing that it would be unfair to hold out any longer, he takes his hand away and roams it down your body, briefly passing his palm over your nude torso as he pays every inch of you equal attention. You shiver when one of his hands wraps around your waist and squeezes you tightly, only to feel the other dig into your upper thigh until the flushed skin turned a lighter color.
Gods above. You hoped he could handle you a little harder, leave his mark for you to reminisce over long after he leaves. You’re close to asking him to do so even, but then you meet his gaze and instantly drop your focus to his reddened lips. Gone is the need to have him color your body with brushing devotion, the feeling immediately replaced with a desperation to have his lips engulf your own in a heated kiss overtaking your entire person until you can no longer hold back from asking him the necessary question.
“Master Obi-Wan, may I please kiss you?” You reluctantly inquire, never once breaking eye contact with him out of fear of missing any discomfort he may try to hide for the sake of “repaying” your hospitality. You’re about to spiral down that line of thought when Obi-Wan furrows his eyebrows curiously at you, as if you just asked him a completely random, and unnecessary question.
“Have I not given you permission before, dear heart?” His hold tightens around you when your body moves, and you beg your heart to calm down, afraid that it may betray you and fool you into thinking that he fears you removing yourself from him.
“Yes but-” You try to explain to him that you value his consent above all else, but he doesn’t give you a chance to say anything else, launching himself forward and smashing his lips against your own. Whereas the earlier kiss stole your breath away with how aggressive and demanding it was, this one makes you forget how to function altogether. You shove your hands into his auburn locks as soon as you feel the hand around your back slide up to your neck and push on your head. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was as desperate for you as you were for him, but you don’t think on that, once again afraid of what your mind might run away with if you allowed it to humor such a sentiment. Parting your lips for him, you dare to sneak your tongue into his mouth to explore him as you dreamt for so long, sighing heavily against him when you’re met with an equally excited but more dominant tongue swirling around your own. The taste of him is intoxicating, somehow sweet and bitter at the same time. You think perhaps that the latter comes from the whiskey, but you realize that he may be a combination of both naturally.
It quickly becomes unimportant to you as soon as Obi-Wan growls into the kiss. Up until now, you’ve barely heard any reaction from him except for the occasional low moan, but here he was, assaulting you with a hunger you never thought you would be at the receiving end of, and revealing to you just how much he wants you. The sounds escaping his throat make you clench your thighs together, and you try to break the kiss to ask him if he can slip his hand in between your legs but as soon as you pull away, the fingers intertwined in your hair tug harshly and force you back against his lips. You don’t try to do anything of the likes again, content with surrendering yourself to the Jedi Master you prayed to the maker would spare you a second glance. It’s only when you accidentally grace your nails against his neck that he pulls away and swears openly against your mouth, his breaths coming in harshly and quickly, as if he was trying to breathe in the air leaving your lungs and nothing else.
“Oh sweet one, your lips must have been crafted by the angels, for they are the softest creation I have had the pleasure of touching.” Obi-Wan doesn’t give you a chance to say anything else, returning his attention to your lips once more in an attempt to make you forget everything except him. He becomes more bold, waiting until you sigh openly into his mouth before taking your lower lip in between his teeth and biting down on it. You’re not sure what it is that makes you jump in shock, the rather aggressive behavior he was allowing himself to experience with you or the sheer desperation that must be clouding his thoughts to the point where he felt the need to claim your mouth with such ferocity. You don’t bother trying to think of anything else except how full and dominant his lips feel around your own, and only when he pushes his tongue violently into your mouth that you suddenly have the urge to suck on it. You do without a second thought, hoping that he doesn’t find the action too childish or presumptive. His opinion on the matter is revealed instantaneously when he moans lewdly against you and tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss.
You’re not sure how long the two of you sit there drowning in each other, but when the need for air outgrows the desire for each other, Obi-Wan lets go and sits back against the couch, wrapping his arm around your waist to make sure that you won’t try to pull too far apart from him. He nudges your hair with his nose, taking in a deep breath to fill his senses with your sweet scent. He isn’t sure how to make sense of it, but he thinks that it compliments your Force signature well.
“You don’t need to say those words, I- I will do anything to make you feel good.” You interrupt his journey to memorizing every aspect of your presence, and it’s only when the self-deprecating claim finally registers in his mind that he leans back and frowns at you.
“You think my words are untruthful?”
“It…they’re not- I didn’t…” You’re not sure why his reaction makes you regret ever speaking your mind, but you cradle his neck as you try to explain to him why you had to tell him how you feel. Thankfully, Obi-Wan notices your struggle, and he removes his hand from your nude skin, mirroring your actions and cupping your cheek until you are forced to only look at him.
“Little one, if the past hour proved anything, it is that you are willing to offer yourself to me without anything in return.” He says strictly, the tone of his voice, although edgy, manages to soothe you into satisfaction. The contentment washing over you isn’t out of pride, as if you wanted to hear those specific words uttered from him, but more of a reflection of your insecurities when met with someone as kind and beautiful as him.
“I need not lie to get what I crave from you.” Obi-Wan continues, the thin cerulean line visible behind his dilated pupils shifting you back into a trance where he is the sole ruler of the universe.
“So I assure you, whatever falls from my lips journeys straight from my heart.” The conviction with which he delivers the soulfull sentiment sends you into a silent frenzy, and you try to thank him for putting your mind at ease, for understanding the battle currently storming across your mind, but all that comes out is his name, barely louder than a whisper, breathed enough only for him to hear, as if the universe would fall apart if anyone else heard you.
“Obi-Wan.”
“Besides, the acquaintance of your beauty, and honor, will never fail to amaze me. I- I find it difficult to speak less of the effect you have on me, sweet one.” He passes his thumb over your lower lip, utterly mesmerized by the tenderness and compliance returning his affections. The cloud misting over him lifts when Obi-Wan notices a hunt of giddy unrest fills his senses. He knows it’s not him, because he’s never felt this calm and wanting before, so he’s instantly alert because the prospect of being the reason behind the sudden spike of panic in your Force signature brings discomfort to the forefront of his mind.
“I- I need you. Now, please. Whatever you’re willing to give me, I- I just want you to touch me.” Your voice is shaking, a manifestation of whatever your mind and body were currently experiencing, and as much as the Jedi Master hates to admit it, it makes him feel better that your agitation was born out of the sheer need you reserve for him and not because he’s done something to upset you.
“Where do you want me to touch you?” He wonders as softly as he can, wanting to bring your nerves back down so you could tell him exactly what you want from him.
“Anywhere…e-everywhere.” Your breathing is somewhat less erratic than a moment ago, and Obi-Wan’s chest fills with pride and possession at the thought of being the sole reason behind your nearly-tangible arousal.
“Hmm, as tempting as that sounds,” he makes a show of drawing his eyes across your body slowly, licking his lips and humming in approval when he notices how hard your nipples are. He continues his journey down your form, already knowing where he most wants to touch you, but he decides to toy with you a little bit longer, wanting to drag this out as much as possible so your pleasure reaches a new height when he finally slips his fingers in between your thighs.
“Obi-Wa..ahhh-” you whine his name, only to throw your head back when you feel his fingers come to rest against your clothed, heated core. He has barely touched you, the palm of his hand only managing to contain the damp, hot sensation pulsating across your slit, but you can’t find it in yourself to say anything, let alone breathe properly, out of fear of splitting your attention with the feeling of his capable, strong hand as it held you tightly.
“I think I will start with this sweet little cunt that has been weeping for my attention.” Obi-Wan coos against your skin, licking the shell of your ear as he tests the waters and gently rubs the damp patch of the lace panties shielding you from him. Your thighs fall wide open almost immediately, causing him to move down the sofa so he can accommodate you better. He spread his own legs to ensure that you won’t slide off of him, unable to hold back the moan that rumbles through his chest when he looks down and sees just how soaked you are.
“Oh darling darling girl, you are positively drenched for me. Is this all for me? Are you this wet for a man you barely know?” He questions lewdly, his voice a mixture of unabashed hunger and barely-contained excitement. You shut your eyes to relish the sensations his careful, unhurried ministrations are sending up your spine, only to flutter them open when he taps twice against your engorged clit in warning. You barely manage to open your eyes, and when you turn to look at him, you shudder at the absolutely maddening, lust-filled gaze he throws at you. It’s only when he draws lazy circles over the flimsy fabric that you remember he’s asked you a question, and you nearly shake your head to try and recall what it was he wanted to know.
“Yes- oh maker, yes. It’s for you…it’s all f-for you.”
Your response must please Obi-Wan because he clenches his jaw tightly and forgoes the plan he originally held for you. Without a warning, he lunges forward and swallows your moans as he slips his fingers beneath your panties, coating his hand with your wetness right before pushing two, thick digits into your cunt. You arch your back as soon as you feel his expert fingers slide deeper into your aching pussy, your own hands shooting to his robes in an attempt to grow closer to him. You expected him to set an unforgiving pace, make you cry out from the possessive nature of his fingers, until your body recognized the marks of his touch and waited for them again. But he doesn’t, and a small part of you wishes he was as cruel as you thought him capable of being.
“H-how are you this fucking tight? Stars, the things I could do to your filthy body.” He breaks your train of thought, breathing the words harshly against your lips while sliding his fingers inside you until your walls flutter around the length of his calloused digits. He doesn’t move then, wanting to simply feel the heat of your cunt. When he does finally move, it’s as if a thousand stars exploded across your body, all due to the expert curl of his fingers and the delicious way the ridges along the palm of his hand slide against your clit. You part your lips to let out a scream, but only silence follows as the thickness filling you passes perfectly against your tight walls, deep enough to tease that spongy, sensitive place that makes you cry in ecstasy. Obi-Wan grins at you, leaning over and kissing the corner of your mouth until the only sensation you are experiencing is him.
“If I asked you to get on your hands and knees for me…right this moment, would you listen to me dear one?” He practically growls the question, the pet name falling from his lips driving you mad with need to have him only ever call you as such. You’re rather shocked by how easy it comes to him, but you don’t question it, not wanting him to withdraw such sentimental words and call you something else.
“Yes Master, I- I would. I’ll do anything you want me to do. I- oh gods…I promise.” Your voice comes out barely louder than a whisper, only to switch into a lewd scream when he rubs his palm against your clit while circling his fingers against your quivering walls.
“You may want to retract such valuable words.” The Jedi Master warns, sending a wave of goosebumps over your skin with the serious, almost threatening tone of his voice.
“N-never.”
“You do not know what I am capable of, my darling cockslut. I could pull you apart with a mere snap of my fingers, could have you begging for mercy with the flick of my thumb…if I wanted to.” He licks across your sternum, parting with his desires for you with each new bit of flesh he marks with his tongue. Obi-Wan waits until you’re so far gone in the new sensation he’s delivering to your body before making his way across the valley of your breasts, chuckling menacingly to himself when he bites just above your aching nipple and sends you into another frenzy.
“Do y-your worst General, I can ta- ahhhh,” he cuts you off before you can finish your thought, managing to catch you off guard with his other hand as it ascends up your back and wraps around your neck while his mouth assaults your nipple. You’re not sure how he is capable of such quick, limber movements, but you find that you don’t particularly care as he grips your jugular tighter while his teeth nip and tug on your hardened peak.
“Ah ah ah,” Obi-Wan parts his lips to warn you again, but his teeth never once ease up on your nipple as he continues to speak, “I do not recall allowing such a tone from your lips.” He manages to retort before he finally shows some mercy on your flushed skin, alternating between licking the reddened flesh and sucking on your breasts to leave more harsh marks wherever he pleases.
“Master, I-” There’s not an ounce of coherence left in your mind, and you aren’t exactly certain of what it is you were about to ask him, but the moment derails quickly when Obi-Wan cuts you off, yet again, and offers you a delicious proposition.
“Deserve to be punished?” He inquires, twisting his fingers inside your wet pussy as if his goal was to turn you into a stuttering, puddled mess. He presses down on your jugular as he increases the ministrations of his other hand, his own pleasure reaching a new zenith with he feels your throat move as you gasp for air. Obi-Wan takes this moment to truly gaze upon you, and he finds himself overflowing with hunger when he roams his eyes down your body and sees the erratic movement of your chest as it rises and falls with each harsh breath you take.
“I can feel your cunt begging to come undone for me. Go on my sweet fuckdoll, and come for your Master.”
It is frowned upon, the emotions swirling through him and threatening to make him forget what he is. Who he is.
Obi-Wan is a Jedi, a Master who is on the Council of his kind. He knows better than anyone the dangers of feeling this level of possession of someone, this degree of attachment solely centered around an individual’s pleasure. He knows this would only complicate things, not only for himself, but for you as well.
But as he regards you now, in the throws of passion, your lithe form giving up all control for him…to him…he simply cannot find a single care for anything expected of him, not when you were offering him such intimate salvation, a level of fulfillment and rapture unlike anything he has ever encountered before, with nothing expected of him in return.
Master Kenobi decides, then and there, that whatever transpired this night would not be amongst the growing list of regrets he’s kept hidden in his heart ever since he came to Coruscant all those years ago.
No, the universe, perhaps even the Force itself, was offering him a guide, one that would aid him in navigating whatever the future held. Who was he to deny stardust from finding its way back into the living universe once more?
Because that’s what he considered you—after everything he witnessed in the past few rotations, and the titillating, silent conversation he’s held with you long before he walked in here—a constellation of stardust seeking him out to show him the way to a happier existence, one filled with light, warmth, and authenticity.
“I- I think I’m…Obi-” He feels his heart threaten to leap out of his chest when he turns his attention back to your features and finds your eyes glistening with unshed tears. Whether they are of pain or pleasure he is unsure, but he knows that he would wipe them away with his tongue should they roll down and caress your cheeks. Something switches in his mind, and Obi-Wan decides to put you out of your misery, wanting more than anything to watch you as you experience pleasure at his hands.
“I know dearest, I know. And I want you to. Be a good girl and come for me. Baptize me with your essence.” He encourages you, curling his fingers violently inside you and pushing down on the curve of your walls in a come-hither gesture, watching with fascination as your muscles seize up before rippling above him. You moan rather loudly into the air, and Obi-Wan can’t help himself from shoving his fingers into your mouth to silence you. He wants nothing more than for everyone in this sector to know who’s pleasuring you, but the need to push his digits into your mouth to feel the wetness of your tongue outgrows the primal and possessive behavior over your existence and everyone around you.
It’s only when he vaguely hears the increasing volume of wet sounds as he continues to fuck you with his fingers that he finally looks down and sees the mess you’re making of him.
“Fuck, look at you falling apart on my fingers. You are t-the most beautiful sight I have ever beheld.” He remarks with excitement, his eyes zeroing in on your heated core as he elongates your orgasm and forces you to gush like a stream over him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s aware that you’re soaking his clothes, but he doesn’t care one bit, wanting to ensure that you have reached your high properly, sweetly. If he wants to walk around with the scent of your cum etched on his clothes, if only to feel a unique sense of joy, he doesn’t bother to make a mention of it, knowing that it would mean so much more to the two of you if he voices said desire out loud.
When the bite of your teeth over his fingers becomes slightly too painful for Obi-Wan to handle, he relaxes his hand and stops his movement altogether, not wanting to drive you into any uncomfortable oversensitivity. He doesn’t remove his fingers from your cunt, wanting to relish the way your walls quiver around him in your post-orgasmic haze. Your body shakes less violently now, but your heated core continues to flutter around him, and he doesn’t remove his eyes from your face once as he drags out his fingers a little, smiling to himself when your eyebrows contort along with your lips as feeling him softly pass over your engorged clit. He tries to remove his fingers from your mouth next, but you shift your face and follow his hand, only relaxing more into his chest when you’re sure he won’t remove them.
The sweat clings on Obi-Wan’s forehead as he watches you suck and roll your tongue around his fingers, and if he were a better man, he would have taken this as a sign to stop this interaction before it leaves an irreversible mark on his memory.
“T-thank you, Master Kenobi.”
Then he hears your voice, your soft, hoarse, content voice as it thanks him, and the Master Jedi is sure he wants nothing more than for things to get out of hand. In fact, he thinks he might cease to exist if he doesn’t, at the very least, feel your mouth on him. He schools his features as best as he can, even though he doesn’t mind you seeing him so unhinged, so needy for you. But he’s sensed your Force signature earlier, and he knows you don’t mind if he’s a little rough with you. Waiting until you turn to look at him, Obi-Wan smirks as he leans into you and kisses just below your ear. You whine at the close proximity, the sound turning into a lewd moan when he removes his fingers from your cunt completely and raises them until you can see them. You gasp when you follow the trail of wetness down his arm and notice evidence of your orgasm across his robes. There is a moment of panic that fills the silence stretching between the two of you and you turn to him quickly, your mind already racing with apologetic words you should tell him so he doesn’t leave you now.
But you don’t find an angry or disappointed look in his eyes as you expected. Instead, Obi-Wan is staring at you as if you’ve given him such a precious gift, one he’s been longing to receive for so long now. You swallow the lump in your throat as he drags his wet hand across your body and spreads your cum all over your breasts. When you still seem stuck in your mind, he pinches one nipple and rubs the pain away with his thumb until your eyes convey some sense of presence once more.
“Hmm,” he hums deeply, the sound reverberating through his chest making him sound like a predator happy with the prey he just caught, “do not think my generosity flows as enthusiastically as your cunt, little one.” His words send a new wave of heat across your body and you part your lips in an attempt to apologize again, but Obi-Wan shakes his head and removes his hands from you, leaving you cold and desperate for him. He nods down to his robes and throws one arm against the back of the sofa, making you wish his skin was not hidden from your hungry eyes.
“You made a mess of my Jedi robes, and I expect you to clean them. Thoroughly.” The command surprises you, mostly because you were sure he would leave now that you broke one of the two rules he set in place before you started. You don’t mention his prior words though, knowing that he probably didn’t forget what he asked earlier, and was merely extending his ‘limits.’
“Y-yes Master.” You whisper as you push off of him, slightly wobbling on your feet as soon as you stand in between his thighs. You turn back around and feel your face flush with heat at the grin on Obi-Wan’s face. Of course he was proud of what he’s done to you. A deep breath of courage fills your lungs as you descend to the ground and sit in between his thick, wet thighs for the second time that night. You look up at him, silently asking him if you could proceed. He raises one eyebrow at you, the barely-visible cerulean of his eyes briefly shifting down to where you marked him before returning to meet your own orbs again.
You lick your lower lip before capturing it in between your teeth, trying your best to set aside the nerves threatening to well up in your chest. He pleasured you with ease, ensuring your satisfaction was met, twice over, when he could have easily ignored you and sought out his own ecstasy. A part of you wished he could tell you exactly what he wanted you to do to him, but you got the sense that he was leaving it up to you so he wouldn’t be forcing you to do anything you didn’t want. Little did you know that Jedi Master currently eye-fucking you didn’t care what you did as long as you touched him. You take in the impressive body you somehow still had access to, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you reach up and place your hands on his chest, not caring for how ridiculous you probably looked as you dragged the palms of your hands down his body until you memorized every rough and soft ridge of him.
When you reach the lower part of his navel, right above where you wish you could taste him, you look back into his eyes and spread your hands as far out as possible before moving them around the painful tent in his trousers, towards his inner thighs.
“F-force help me,” Obi-Wan hisses at your teasing actions, and you notice the skin of his knuckles turn even whiter as he fists his hands in the cushions around him. You want that level of passion to leave indents on your skin, but you don’t say so just yet, unsure of whether he’d be willing to go that far with you or not. Not daring to break his gaze, you oh-so-slowly lean down and shove your nose where you think the base of his cock is, shamelessly inhaling deeply until the only thing you can smell is his deep, natural musk and the faint scent of your cum sticking to the wet fabric of his trousers.
Obi-Wan flinches at the obscene sound of your breathing, and his hands shoot to the cushions around him when you moan your pleasure against the side of his hard dick. He’s never seen such an unhinged act before, and he knows he’ll never witness one so filthy and wanton ever again. The knot in his stomach tightens further, and he tries his best to meditate on anything but the unrestrained behavior you were gracing him with, but he can’t find a single, coherent thought to latch on because you don’t stop what you’re doing and decide to pay equal attention to every inch of him.
“What- what do you think you are doing?” Anyone else hearing the tone of his question would think he was incredibly irritated but you smile at him as you rest your cheek on his thigh, wetting your lips one more time before tilting your head until your mouth rests against the side of his cock. Without missing a beat you lay the softest of kisses on his trousers and watch with fascination as the Jedi’s hands itch to shoot to your hair and pull harshly on it until you answered his question.
“Ever since you walked in here, I- I couldn’t stop thinking about scenting you. I wondered if you would smell like the woods, earthy and inviting…or if you would smell spicy like cinnamon and chamomile.” You pause between every other word, continuing your journey across his crotch and sniffing as much of his as possible. You shut your eyes to enjoy the moment, knowing that you’ll never have another Jedi so submissive and patient beneath you as you mapped his desires. You know it’s taking every ounce of control for Obi-Wan to not push you underneath him and remind you who’s in charge, and you relish the feeling of having this much of an effect on him. With each bit of new fabric you sniff, you feel his cock twitch against you, pushing you into leaving a trail of kisses where you wish you can touch him without any barrier. And although the thought is quite pathetic, you find yourself jealous of the cushions currently being fisted beneath his hands.
“And maker in heaven, you…smell…absolutely…divine.” You inhale deeply in between every word, pushing your nose as violently as possible into his clothed dick until his hips buck against you. Even when you stop, you still feel him trying to push his crotch closer to your mouth, and you don’t bother denying him, parting your lips until the heat radiating off of him fills your mouth with every bit of him he attempts to shove into you.
“F-fuck,” Obi-Wan swears desperately when he sees you stick your tongue out and drag it across the length of his cock, not stopping until his trousers hold evidence of your drool and your cum everywhere. You remember how you got into this position, and decide to take the task to a whole new level. As your eyes flutter open once more, you seek his out and wait until he shifts his focus from your mouth to your gaze before shoving his thighs farther apart. His legs spread as wide as possible and you take advantage of the shock written on his face to push him a little more. Moving your tongue around, you collect as much saliva as possible on it before spitting down on the hardness threatening to rip his trousers. Obi-wan growls, and you swear you’ve never heard a more beautiful sound in your life. Not wanting to waste any more time, you lean down and spread the new wetness across the tight fabric hiding him from you, smiling in satisfaction when you push your nose against the head of his cock and smelling the faint scent of his own pleasure seeping through the damp material. You pout when you look down and find a dry spot on his pants, and without missing a beat, you spit on your fingers and rub the trail of saliva across the base of his cock, whining your desires to him when you feel his balls against the palm of your hand.
Obi-Wan is sure he’s died and joined the Force because never in his life did he think he’d ever be wanted so desperately. He thought you’d lick him for a few moments before asking him what else he wants from you, but it seems that you took his words more to heart than he thought you would. With each pass of your tongue, the Jedi Master feels his heart drum wildly against his chest, and with each little sniff you steal as you push your nose harshly against his achingly hard cock, he prays to the maker that he doesn’t cum in his trousers and embarrass himself in front of you.
Up until this moment, it was clear how much you wanted him. You even told him so when you began to dance for him. But never in his wildest dreams did he think you capable of such disgustingly beautiful behavior. And even though he enjoyed every touch you offered him, he was slowly starting to fear what such knowledge would do to him following this night.
The thought quickly evaporates from his mind, however, when you grow more bold with your hands and knead the length of him with one hand while the other reaches down to fondle his balls through the now-irritating material of his trousers.
“No wonder you’re so confident. Your cock is so hard and thick to the touch…so hot.” He’s not sure if you’re talking to him or yourself, but he finds that it turns him on regardless because that part of him, that laid dormant for so long, was finally receiving praise for being objectively exceptional. Obi-Wan was not a vain man, far from it, but the fact that he was clearly pleasing to you made his chest fill with pride, especially since he was not the first Jedi to partake in such acts with you. He prays you continue to whisper your approval to him, not because he is doubtful of his physique, but because he needs you to never stop thinking of how perfect he is for you. “And your scent is…fuck Master, your scent is so masculine, and so fucking mouthwatering.” You lean down and fill your senses with the scent and taste of him, unable to hold back from telling him how much you crave him.
And fuck, you did crave him…painfully. But you knew better than to ask him to cross that boundary and move into uncharted, probably uncomfortable, territory with you.
“The- the mouth on you could raise w-worlds to ashes.” He finally breaks his silence, his voice hoarse from how dry his throat has become. It only makes you smile deeper at him, and you kiss along the hardened length of his cock to further prove his words, the taste of your cum now almost gone from him. You’re about to massage him through his trousers when he pushes his hand into your hair and pulls you off of him. The sting coursing through your scalp distracts you momentarily, but it is gone as soon as Obi-Wan lets go of your hair and immediately fumbles with the edge of his pants.
“What-” You ask at the sudden shift in his behavior, unsure why he was now willing to cross that line, let alone take his clothes off in front of you. You want to reach out and stop him before he reveals himself to you, but you can’t find it in yourself to do so, that overwhelmed, needy part of you—that came to life as soon as you walked into this room and saw him—telling you that this was finally your chance to show him how good you can be for him.
“Free my cock, sweet one. Now.” Obi-Wan’s breathing is erratic, and your fingers itch to aid him with his trousers when you see the intoxicating, dazed spirit that befalls him as he unfastens the top of his pants and roughly pushes them down his thighs. Your eyes widen with hunger when you look down and behold the tight, darkened undershorts leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. It’s embarrassing, the way your mouth salivates all of a sudden, and you almost choke on your breath as soon as Obi-Wan slips two of his fingers beneath the elastic of the fabric and threatens to lower them as well.
“But you-” the last, coherent bit of your brain attempts to remind the Master Jedi of his earlier conditions, but he shakes his head and removes his fingers from the edge of the undershorts. You sigh in relief, thankful that he remembered the orders he gave you before, but that sense of ease evaporates when you remove your eyes from his darkened orbs and watch as he touches himself through the wet material. You feel as if your mind is in the middle of a fiery storm, one that you had no means to escape, and the guilt from before rises again as it occurs to you that you may have accidentally forced him into such a state of arousal. You know he craves stimulation more than anything, and as much as you wished to be the one to please him, you didn’t want him to regret you at the end of the night.
Obi-Wan must sense the turmoil overtaking your body because he stops his movement altogether and leans into your space, until the two of you are breathing the same air.
“I care not for what I said before.” Gone is the crazed tone ordering you to unclothe him, and you flinch unintentionally when he grasps your cheeks in between his warm palms. He doesn’t move then, afraid that you would fear him, or think him capable of forcing you into an act you did not want to engage in with him. The latter thought is enough to force his heart to stabilize, but when he notices the way you continue to look into his eyes, and the raging tempest begging for every fiber of his being to unfold you, he understands why you shook from his touch.
It was not out of fear of himself, but fear of what you would do if he didn’t think through this.
You wanted him, to an alarming point, because if he continued to speak of his desires for you, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from giving him whatever he wants. You would ignore the earlier agreement, and lay with him, thus potentially causing him to regret his actions once the two of you passed this lust-filled haze.
With as much certainty as he can muster up, Obi-Wan speaks the next words against your lips, all the while praying to the maker that you believe the demand filling him completely, one that prayed your name until it became a sweet benediction.
“I yearn for your touch, my lady. Please.”
The sentiment is laced with an overbearing sense of ache, one you need, more than anything, to itch until it either powers over you or dissipates into a soft, flickering flame. You cease to breathe at the whispered plea, and you discover that no verbal response you can offer will ever properly convey to him the craving hunger you feel for being the one he calls upon to soothe his lust.
“In- in that case, allow me.” You don’t recognize your own voice, and Obi-Wan releases a sound that can only be described as an anticipated moan in the form of your name. You drift your hands across his thighs, purposely digging your nails into the tight material of his underpants so you can catch another unhinged response from him. He shivers at the stinging sensation, laying back against the sofa if only to keep whatever sliver of control still remained in his body. You bite the inside of your cheeks to feel grounded, and although you know he wants you to drag the article of clothing down his muscular thighs, you don’t do so yet, relishing in the heat radiating off of his form as you played with the elastic around his hips.
He thrusts into the palms of your hands unintentionally, causing you to stifle a giggle as you slip your fingers beneath the top of fabric and move them back and forth. You don’t bother looking up at him, knowing that the growing fury in his dilated pupils may distract you from the task at hand. Taking in a deep breath, you lean down again and kiss the bit of skin just above his underpants, the dust of hair covering his navel tickling your lips deliciously and making you wish you could see the rest of his body without anything to hide him from you. You know you should stop teasing him, but the part of you that has dreamt of worshiping him forces you to part your mouth and lick across the edge of his underpants. You hear Obi-Wan growl in irritation, but you pay him no mind as you pepper wet kisses everywhere you can reach.
When you’re satisfied with the state of near delirium you’ve put him under, you pinch the top of his underpants and pull them down slowly, moaning his name obscenely when his cock catches against the tight material and makes you tug on it harder until you can free him. You’ve pictured doing this more times than you can count, and in every single image engraved in your mind, you thought you would be patient and gentle, not wanting him to finish the fun too quickly. But as the thick, hard length of his dick is finally, finally, revealed to your hungry eyes, you can’t help the excitement that fills you, and you yank down his clothes aggressively until both his trousers and underpants are pooled around his ankles.
It’s everything you have imagined him to be, but not quite. He was thick, and all you can imagine is how perfect he would feel as he stretched you out, mouth or cunt. The tip of his cock is a deeper, angry shade of red and your heart drops when you notice him glistening with pre-cum. And then there was the matter of his length. Maker, he had every right to walk around with such cocksure air around him. But it didn’t seem like it would be as uncomfortable as others you’ve had the misfortune of attending to. Jedi were dangerous with the weapons hanging from their belts, but the one beneath you now was menacing and he didn’t require the lightsaber to prove such a thing. He was, in every sense of the word, the most beautiful creation you’ve ever come across.
And by the heavens, how you wished you could come across him as well.
“Oh my stars, you- if I had known your cock would be as beautiful as the rest of you, Master Obi-Wan, I would have fallen to my knees the second I laid my eyes on you.” The remark is accompanied with a spike in your Force signature, one that tested Obi-Wan’s resolve until he snapped and reached for your hair. The only warning you have is the growl reverberating from his chest as he tugs on your hair and grabs his cock with the other hand. You silently plead for him to do something, anything, with you, and the look in your eyes must be all he needs to see because without wasting another second, Obi-Wan spits down on his cock and spreads the wetness across his dick. Your body shakes at the filthiness of his actions, only to have your mind stand with attention as soon as the Jedi Master calls your name.
“Spit.” The order is music to your ears and you roll your tongue around your mouth quickly to give him what he wants. Looking back into his eyes, you make a show of spitting on the tip of his cock, where his hand continues to rub your mixed spit across the hard length of him. You had thought he would immediately push you down so he could fuck your face, but he does something more bold.
With a widening grin, Obi-Wan parts his thighs wider until you’re a hair-breadth away from his dick, and as soon as you part your lips for him, he takes the base of his cock and slams it three times across your face. He sees the second your lust-filled expression turns into one of shock, and he groans your name once before craning your neck back so he could reach the rest of your features more easily. It’s positively vulgar, the way in which he continues to slap your face with his thick cock, and he finds it rather beautiful that you are enjoying the explicit sounds he is repeatedly creating as the wetness glistening across his skin sticks to your cheeks and creates an almost invisible connection between his length and your lips.
You stick your tongue out to taste your combined spit as it smears across your lips, and Obi-Wan doesn’t waste another precious moment, instantly shoving the tip of his cock past your bruised lips until he feels your mouth engulf him completely. As much as he wants to push you down on his cock, he holds himself back and waits until he’s sure you’re ready for him. You widen your mouth and slide your hands from his thighs to the base of his length, holding him steady as you slowly take his cock down your throat. The Jedi Master must have not been prepared for your immediate response because his breath catches in his throat and he lets go of your hair altogether and fists his hands into the pillows around him. The moans escaping his throat are exceptionally filthy, and you grasp his hard length tightly in hopes of hearing more of his groans.
“Ahhhh f-fuck, that’s it dear heart. Take my cock, take it in that cockdumb mouth of yours. Let me feel the heat of your throat.” He calls out for you, and you suddenly feel distracted when you shift your attention to his hands and watch as they slowly turn white from how harshly he’s grabbing onto the pillows and the sofa. The moment is gone soon after when you feel constrict your throat around him and he unintentionally bucks his hips into you, sending his dick even deeper into your mouth. The feeling of his velvety skin as it slides across your tongue should be illegal, and you shut your eyes to focus on not gagging around him, only fluttering the open when you hear him moan your name as your drool slides down his length and makes a mess of your hands. You caress him until he twitches in your mouth, once again finding it difficult to breathe when he accidentally pushes his cock down your throat again.
When you can’t take it anymore, you regrettably remove him from your mouth, taking in a few deep breaths before leaning down and kissing the crown of his dick. You don’t look at him then, knowing you might get distracted if you were to see the look in his eyes as you kissed every inch of him. Only when his body shakes above you do you finally meet his gaze, not stopping once from mapping his length with kisses and licks until he showers you with more praises.
“Lovely girl, you look so beautiful worshiping me.” Obi-Wan reaches down and touches your cheeks lightly. You stop what your ministrations then, finding the sentiment far sweeter than you think he intends it to be. You rest your cheek across one of his thighs, all the while stroking him until his length is covered in your spit. You bite your lip when he doesn’t remove his hand, winking once at him as you bring his cock to your mouth and kiss the slit smeared with pre-cum. It’s borderline disgusting, the way your mouth shines with evidence of his pleasure and your enthusiasm, but you find the heated look in his eyes worth the humiliation.
“Want your mouth again, please.” He begs, and if it weren’t for the fact that you were thoroughly enjoying teasing him, you would have obeyed him and told him to fuck your throat. But you don’t, knowing that the pleasure he would feel once he finally takes charge of you again would be indescribable. Batting your eyelashes at him, you don’t pay him any mind and continue with the kitten licks across his cock, occasionally sucking on the protruding veins until he throws his head back and whispers your name.
“Come on, don’t- don’t be a tease.” His voice is nearly broken, driving you absolutely mad with lust. Again, you ignore his pleas, and allow more of your spit to cover his length. He huffs in irritation, and you smile to yourself as you lick along the side of his cock until you reach where your hands are holding him. Without a second thought, you lay the gentlest of kisses across his balls before licking at them harshly. Obi-Wan’s back arches off of the sofa, and he sits up in an instant, unable to look anywhere else but you, with your flushed lips and your wet tongue bringing him unimaginable pleasure.
“Hmmphh, I- I won’t ask again.” The warning sends a shiver down your spine, yet you almost laugh when he stutters over his words as he attempts to convince you to take his cock into your mouth once more. You know you’re pushing your luck, but you can’t find it in yourself to care because of how absolutely turned on you are by the knowledge of having such an intense effect on him. It must be too much for Obi-Wan, however, because as soon as you rub the head of his cock with both of your thumbs, he growls your name and combs his fingers into your hair.
“Fuck, that is quite enough.” The composed tone of his voice is terrifying, and you brace yourself in preparation for whatever he has planned for you. Obi-Wan slaps your hands away from him, taking his cock in his own hand instead and pulling you away when you try to take him in your mouth. He traces your lower lip with the tip of his dick, grinning at you when he moves you away as soon as you try to feel him against your tongue. He continues to taunt you with his length, tightening the hold he has on your hair when you try to force yourself on him. You’re not sure how long this goes on for, and you hate yourself for ever thinking it was a good idea to tease him. You pout at him when his smirk widens the longer he blocks your attempts of pleasuring him. Thinking you can tempt him with your hands, you reach out to grab him, only to feel an invisible force on your wrists before they’re slammed down against your thighs.
“Tell me, tell me what you are and I may reward you with my cock again.” He smiles when he notices the lack of shock on your features, as if you were waiting for him to use the Force on you. He despises your reaction, but chooses to ignore his satisfaction over your expectation of him using his own religion against you, the need to illustrate to you how far gone he is outgrowing any sense of self-preservation.
“Obi-” You moan his name, only for the man to cut you off with a harsh tug to your hair and another slap of his cock against your parted lips.
“Fucking tell me,” he orders, one last time, praying to the maker that you put him out of his misery and give him what he wants.
“I- I’m your filthy whore…I’m just your cockslut and I- I want you to choke me. Choke me with your hand or your cock…please, I want it. It makes me wet just to think of you fucking my face. Please Master, I- omphh.” At the sound of the honorific, Obi-Wan forgets the controlled manner he wished to maintain with you, throwing all caution aside as he tilts your head back and pushes his dick into your mouth until your nose is flush against his skin. He watches as you choke on his length, never once relenting on the pressure he has on your neck until you shut your eyes and moan around him. He pulls you off and releases the hold he has on your wrists, cupping your cheek with one hand while the other plays with your hair as you jerk him off and suck on the crown of his cock.
“There we go, get me nice and wet for your throat, sweet one.” He breathes down at you, biting his cheek as you switch between sucking on him and taking him so far down your throat until he feels you swallow around him. The pressure of your mouth is a sensation he will likely not forget for a long time, and he dreads the emptiness he will surely experience when he leaves you tonight and returns to the Temple. He’s close to revealing his thoughts to you, but then you shut your eyes, and Obi-Wan suddenly feels a hint of that abyss. He lightly taps against your cheek with the palm of his hand, not hitting you, but just a gentle touch to get your attention.
“No, keep- keep those pretty eyes on me. I want you to look at me as I fuck your face, so you know not to tease me the next time..so you remember to whom you belong.” The words escape his mouth without thought, and he remembers then why he kept himself from such intimacy for most of his life.
“Darling girl, you look breathtaking with your mouth full of my cock.” Your cunt clenches around nothing at the sound of his praises, and you almost reach down to rub your clit, but remind yourself that this was never about your pleasure. So, you focus all of your energy on him, on stroking him firmly and slowly, from where your mouth is wrapped around him down to his balls. As you massage them in the palms of your hands, Obi-Wan can’t help but groan your name over and over again, finding it extremely difficult to maintain his gaze on you as you continue to show him how much you want him.
“Oh gods, you are such a good girl for me. So perfect, so obedient…so fucking wet.” He pronounces every word with a hard thrust into your mouth, and you don’t dare move away from him then, knowing that he must be close if he was beginning to lose his control and fuck your face with little to no rhythm.
“Look at you, you’re making such a mess of me. I- I…the sight of you will plague my dreams in the days to come sweetheart, but I- fuck…I do not care.” You maintain contact with his dazed orbs, finding him even more ethereal as he forgot himself in you. You breathe through your nose to the best of your abilities, laying your tongue flat beneath his cock and quickly jerking him off so he can release his seed into your mouth. You want nothing more than to taste him, roll your tongue around his cock as he comes down your throat and fills your mouth with his essence. But as you alternate between sucking him and widening your lips so he can take his pleasure from you, Obi-Wan throws his head back once and moans your name rather loudly before trying to pull you off of him. Thinking that he probably didn’t want to come down your throat, you tease him with your teeth a little and hollow your mouth around the tip of his cock, kneading the rest of him to ensure his satisfaction is not interrupted.
“Fuck…ahh fucking hells, little one. I- I need you to stop. S-stop, please…now!” The desperation of his voice snaps you out of your haze, and you let go of him instantly, already feeling guilty for whatever you did that pushed him to beg you to stop. You lay your palms over his thighs, lightly caressing his skin to calm him down and show him that you didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable. Obi-Wan stares down at you for a few seconds before resting his head against the back of the sofa, and you watch him closely as he rubs his face with both of his hands and sighs heavily into the damp air of the room.
“Did…did I do something wrong?” Your voice is barely louder than a whisper, and you’re shocked when Obi-Wan shakes his head almost instantly before looking down at you again.
“Heavens no, you- you are perfect. Absolutely perfect.” His breathing is erratic, and you swallow the lump in your throat when you notice how hard he still is as he twitches lightly in front of your face.
“Then let me make you feel good, let me pleasure you until you come in my mouth. Please, Master Kenobi, I want to taste your pleasure.” You dare to reach for him again, grasping him in one palm as you massage his navel with the other. Obi-Wan doesn’t let you do much though, reaching for your hand soon after and politely asking you to stop moving.
“As much as I want to fuck this pretty mouth until you make me come,” he traces your lips with his fingers, pushing two of them past your teeth so he can feel your tongue slide against him once last time, “I will not.” Obi-Wan removes his fingers from your mouth then, and lightly pulls your other hand off of him so he can lean forward and feel the heat of your breath against his cheeks.
“P-please, I-” You attempt to ask him one last time, but he doesn’t give you a chance to say anything else, slowly reaching for your neck and wrapping his hand around your throat so he can call your attention to what he truly wants.
“If you want me to come undone at your touch, my sweet, then it will be inside that wet, tight cunt of yours.” Obi-Wan thought you would obey him in the blink of an eye, with how willing you were to do everything he asked of you thus far, but when you lose your smile and your expression turns serious, he lets go of your cheeks and takes your hands into his own instead. Neither of you say anything, and it takes him longer than necessary to realize that you were probably waiting for an explanation from him.
“Forgive me, I presumed you wanted to-” He starts to say, but you cut him off soon after, shaking your head and intertwining your fingers with his own in an attempt to let him know that you desperately wanted to lay with him.
“I do, maker knows I do. But-” He lets out a sigh of relief when he hears your affirmation, and although he knows he should let you finish your thought, he can’t help but interrupt you, wanting you to know that you were welcome to deny him this if you wanted. It would break his soul, that he is certain of, but like you, he couldn’t find it in himself to force you to do anything you didn’t truly desire.
“But what, little one? Speak your mind truthfully, please. You have nothing to fear.” His tone is completely different from a moment ago, and your chest tightens when you realize he probably thought you didn’t want him anymore. Taking in a deep breath, you will yourself to tell him your concerns, one last time, while silently praying that he disregards them again.
“I don’t want you to think that you have to…this isn’t, I’d never want to force you to do anything.” You stutter through a response, unable to phrase your hopes and desires in a coherent manner for him. You thought he would either thank you for reminding him of those earlier boundaries and get dressed, or tell you that he was definitely sure of his desires to lay with you, but he surprises you, and does neither of those things. His jaws tense at your comment, and he brings you closer to him with newfound lust, making you regret your words.
“You think I am this hard and wanting because you forced me? You think my desperation to feel your cunt clench around me is nothing but a lie?” The questions are laced with lust-filled anger, causing you to flinch when he pulls your hand and forces you to grab his thick, hard cock. He doesn’t let go of your wrist, repeatedly moving it across his length until he can feel the warm palm of your hand rub him furiously. The Jedi doesn’t look elsewhere but your eyes, wanting you to understand that he was desiring the heat of your cunt out of necessity and not because you were forcing him.
“Obi-Wan,” you lean into his space until your lips mold with his own in a dizzying kiss, all the while not stopping him from continuing to lead your hand across his achingly hard cock. But he breaks the kiss soon after, and you almost complain to him, but then he continues to tell you of his need to feel you engulf him, and you realize that you would much rather listen to his unhinged devotion.
“I have not felt such desire in so long, my lady…the mere sound of my name on your lips has awakened something in me that I daresay I thought would remain dormant for many years to come.” Obi-Wan confesses against your lips, nudging your nose with his own as he breathes the same air leaving your lungs. You shiver at the term of endearment, falling into him as he lays kisses across your cheek while you lazily stroke him.
“And y-you say that my tongue is a dangerous weapon…”
“Will you let me have you, dear heart? Please, let me sink my cock into your pussy. Let me look upon you as you fall apart for me, let me- let me hear my name on your sweet lips as I make you come on my cock, as I fill you with my seed, as you beg me to mark you with my cum.” It’s almost as if those flooding words were waiting for this moment to stream so easily from his lips, and you don’t dare deny him any further, laying one last kiss on his reddened lips before moving to the floor and parting your legs for him. You arch your back as the cold tiles of the ground seeps through your skin, and you do your best to ignore the discomfort of the harsh surface as you bite your lower lip while trailing your fingers down your chest to your clothed slit.
“Please, Obi…fuck me. Make me come on your thick cock, u-until I mark you as well. I want you to walk out of here with my cum on your robes, so everyone knows who made you feel good. So you- so you can come back to me again and fuck me all night long.” You know better than to ask him for anything beyond this night, and you shamelessly push your panties to the side, spreading the wetness across your slit when you notice Obi-Wan’s unfaltering gaze zeroing in on your core. You sigh heavily as you rub your clit in slow circles before pushing in the tips of your fingers past your folds and into your aching cunt. The Jedi Master isn’t bothered to hide his lust from you, and you smile to yourself when you see him reach for his cock and palm it lazily as he descends onto the floor near you. He doesn’t come closer though, and you push your fingers deeper into your pussy in an attempt to provoke him to do something, anything, besides staring at you as you touch yourself. He’s clearly having a difficult time breathing normally, the rough, shallow breaths filling the otherwise silent air turning you on more than they should. You stop your ministrations and tilt your head to the side, silently asking him what he wants from you. He notices you staring at him and manages to look away from the slick wetting your thighs, narrowing his eyes at you as he moves forward until he’s kneeling in between your thighs.
“Is that what you want, my darling?” It’s almost as if his question is calculated, and you can’t help but notice the hope laced within the question as he reaches down and caresses the length of your leg with two of his fingers. “You want me to return in between your thighs once more, fill you with my cock until your pussy knows my touch?” His voice is captivating, like a rope of fire gently slithering around your frame and forcing you to focus on him, and him only. “Till you memorize the thickness claiming you and refuse to come unless I am fucking you?” You barely manage to nod, eyes moving towards the soft skin gliding along your legs to your knees. His fingers stop there, and you wish he can forgo whatever this teasing foreplay that’s clearly so enjoyable to him. “Tell me, tell me and I promise to make you feel good.” Obi-Wan promises one last time, and you shiver at the sensation of his hands as they massage your outer thighs just as he leans down to your body. Thinking he was going to take you now, you don’t bother responding to him, throwing your head back and blindly reaching for the beige robes still hiding his upper body from your eyes. But a quick slap to your already heated skin snaps you out of your haze, and you look up in time to watch the man descend upon you with a hunger unlike anything you’ve ever seen. He takes both of your wrists in his hands and slams them above your head, bringing his body flush against your own until the only thing you can feel is him.
“Tell. Me.”
“Yes Master, I want you to take me now…and tomorrow…and the day after.” You blurt out whatever comes to mind, and it must be satisfying for him because the mischievous smile that spreads across his features pulls you deeper into him, making you wish you were the only one worthy of his attention. You reach up and graze his lips with your own, and if Obi-Wan wasn’t hellbent on pushing the two of you past unseen pleasures, he would have quieted you with his tongue and stretched you on his cock in an instant. But he wanted more, and he knew you would appreciate the fulfillment more so if he stretched this out just a little longer.
“Keep- oh kriff, keep talking.” Obi-Wan breathes against your cheeks as he looks down in between the two of you. Against his will, he shuts his eyes to focus whatever coherent energy left within him on your heated core. His muscles are buzzing with energy, but he pays his own needs no mind as he grips your wrists tightly to prevent you from writhing beneath him. As soon as he moves aside your panties, the words on your lips gush without any coherence, and he huffs out a little chuckle as he begins to pass an invisible sensation against your engorged clit.
“I want you to- to claim me every night, again and again and again, until I can’t come without your cock. Please, fuck me Obi, make me feel good, make me see the stars in your eyes. I- ahhhhh…”
Obi-Wan knows better than to use the Force for such blasphemous devotions, but it occurs to him, in the midst of this mind-altering interaction, that he would be committing the ultimate sin if he held back from worshiping you with everything that he’s got, everything that he is. Was it not the Force that called for him to become one with all that is around him? Was it not this mystical energy that reached for him so he can experience the most heartfelt moments with an elated, undistracted mind? Was it not this spirit of the universe that guided him every second of his life, so he can feel the intensity of such valuable experiences with an ecstasy unrepressed by the noise around him? He questions himself, and finds the answers rather easily, awfully quicker than many other inquiries he met in the past decades. And with each response ringing across his mind, Obi-Wan imagines the softness of your slit beneath his fingers, as clear as day, alternating between moving the hidden energy across your clit and into your cunt. He nearly overstimulates himself from how focused he becomes into coaxing your essence out to flood his Force signature. The harder he pushes you towards that zenith of bliss, the more his cock twitches against your inner thighs, begging to be engulfed within your walls, or at the very least, for some release from the torment he was bestowing upon the two of you.
Obi-Wan sobs against your neck, the euphoria within his heart threatening to engulf him completely the longer he continues to assault your bundle of nerves. Only when you cry his name repeatedly does he open his eyes and look down to see why you’re suddenly begging him to stop.
Force help him.
Were it not for the distracting sight of his cock soaked with your cum and perfectly framed by your shaking thighs, Obi-Wan is sure he would have continued to stroke your pussy until you passed out. He loosens the hold he has on your wrists, but doesn’t dare look anywhere else, momentarily forgetting how to breathe when he sees the puddle beneath you. Without thinking much of what he’s doing, he lets go of one of your hands and brings his fingers to your inner thighs, passing over the quivering muscles lightly, only to pull away when he sees you flinch at his touch.
“Obi-Wan,” you sigh his name as you finally catch your breath, the sound of your wrecked voice snapping the Jedi’s attention to your face once more. “I need you.”
Those three words halt whatever apology forming on his lips, and you watch as he swallows thickly before nodding at you. Neither of you address what he’s just done, and even though you want nothing more than to ask him if he meant to use the Force on you in such an intimate manner, you opt to say anything. Obi-Wan moves his hand from your thighs to his cock, and you furrow your eyebrows when you see him stroking himself and spreading your cum across the length of his dick, from his balls to his tip. It’s filthy, the way he rubs himself against your wet folds to coat himself with your essence, but you don’t mind it one bit. Although you want to grab onto him as he finally, finally, slides into your heat, you don’t dare move your hands from where he left them, not wanting to give him a reason to stretch this out any longer.
You thought he would continue to look down where the two of you would soon join, but Obi-Wan returns his eyes to your features, looking straight into your own dazed pupils as he brings himself closer to you. Pushing your leg with his thigh, he brings his index finger against your slit, rubbing you tenderly until you sigh his name with a whisper. He leans down and kisses the corner of your mouth as he gently moves into you. Your mouth falls open in a silent cry, and you arch your back against him as the head of his cock stretches you out. It’s everything you’ve imagined—the thickness of his length, the pulsating ridges along his cock, the hard and hot feeling of him as he fills you up—but somehow so much better. You lean into his mouth, breathing heavily against his skin the deeper he pushes into your pussy. You can feel him shaking above you, and you’re suddenly filled with an unbearable sense of satisfaction at the prospect of having an effect on him similar to the one he has on you.
He stops all of a sudden, and you try to wiggle closer to him, force more of his thick cock to fill you sweetly, but his hand shoots to your waist and holds you against the ground, preventing you from moving altogether.
“Ohhh ff-ffuck, you- you are heavenly, sweet one. And you are so kriffing tight.” Obi-Wan groans against your neck, finding it extremely difficult to not thrust into you harshly now that he finally had you where he wanted. He remembers how sensitive you might be, especially after what he’s pulled moments ago, and he bites your shoulder to feel grounded, the action pulling a lewd moan from your lips that almost makes him break. He licks the reddening flesh to soothe the pain, his mind reeling at the prospect of leaving such a visible mark on you.
Only when he believes he has a good grip on his urges does he push his cock deeper into your cunt, pulling his head back a little to watch your features as they contort in pleasure.
“Go on, take me deeper inside your cunt. Take me deeper so I can mark your womb with my seed.” He growls his desires, watching as your chest rises and falls with harsh breaths the more he moves into you. You barely manage to open your eyes and look at him, and were it not for the fact that you were struggling to adjust to his size, you would have told him how beautiful he looked, with his focused eyebrows and his bruised lips and the sweat forming against his forehead that made his hair stick to his skin and fall on his eyes.
Maker in heaven, he was ecstasy itself.
“Obi- you…you’re so thick. I- I need to…” Your words make him swear beneath his breath, and whatever coherence left in your mind jots that little detail down for later. It shouldn’t surprise you that he loves being praised, especially when the compliment addressed his impressive size, and you try to relax for him, wanting to show him how good you can be for him in return.
“Be a good girl and take the rest of me in that pretty little pussy. You have done beautifully for me, my lady…you can take more. I know you can.” He coos against your damp skin, leaving kisses across your forehead and cheeks before he silences your moans with his lips.
“Obi, oh-” you gasp into the kiss, and Obi-Wan sneaks his tongue into your mouth instantly, the action sending you into a frenzy and making you reach for his hair. He nearly lets go of your hips to force your hand above your head again, but he doesn’t drag your touch away, knowing that it would be better for you to become distracted so you can let loose a bit. Your fingers get lost in his soft locks, and he deepens the kiss when you tug on his hair and scratch the nape of his neck with your nails. The harder you pull on his hair, the louder his moans become, and Obi-Wan finds that he rather enjoys it when you are as rough with him as he is with you. He breaks the kiss for a moment, the need to tell you how exquisite you feel around him outgrowing everything else.
“I can almost feel the beat of your heart, little angel. Can feel it beating as your cunt clenches around me.” He smirks down at you, finding the lost gaze in your eyes so intimate to the point where he leans down and kisses each of them, if only to try and feel whatever it is your aura was conveying to him. He’s been trying his best to focus on anything but your fluttering walls as they welcome more of him inside you, but the second he takes your lips against his own once more, he can’t help but move all of his attention to your cunt. “Be a good girl and t-take the rest of me. Your pussy is gushing for me sweetheart, it’s recognizing my touch and I am yet to give you all of me.” Under normal circumstances, the Jedi Master would blush at the shameless desires leaving his tongue, but he finds that he doesn’t care at the moment, not when your cunt felt like a tight, wet glove as it pulled more of him inside. He never thought this act could be so mind-bendingly sublime, but as he feels the fluttering corners of your heated core plead for him to deepen the connection, Obi-Wan is sure he will never, ever, get enough of you. He brings himself a little closer to you, until your legs give out and wrap around his hips in an attempt to bring him as flush to you as possible.
“Please, Obi-Wan…just- do it now. Take me now, and don’t be gentle.” You beg, one last time, your words washing over him like a sweet benediction. It is as if your request goes right through him, clutching his heart tightly until he does nothing except obey you.
“A-are you sure?” Even though he already knows your answer, he asks again, if only to ensure that you were as undeniably gone in him as he was in you. His voice is shaking, nearly as distracted as his breath, and you reach out to hover your lips over his own, to breathe in his hidden desires until they intermingle with your own.
“Please…fuck me.”
The sentiment clouds over the two of you like a lust-filled tempest, one that has been waiting for the right moment to unleash its brazen fires over your coalesced, wanton forms.
“With pleasure,” Master Kenobi growls in response, no longer caring for making this last as he thrusts his cock into your heat, until he hits a deep corner within your walls that forces stars across your eyesight.
“Gaahh-” you throw your head back and cry out as soon as you feel his fat, hard dick fill you to the brim. He nuzzles into your cheeks, breathing heavily against your skin until you can only hear the air parting from his mouth. He moves his palm from around your wrist to your hand, intertwining your fingers together and squeezing them tightly as he expertly ground the base of his cock against your core.
“Ahhhh s-sweet one,” it’s his turn to sob in ecstasy when he feels your pussy tighten around him the harder he pushes into you. Whatever control left in his body evaporates, and he drags his length out of your clenching walls before driving back into you again, sending another scream of pleasure from your mouth against his cheek.
“O-Obi, you feel so good.” You barely manage to say as he sets a rough pace, pushing and pulling his cock deep within your cunt until the only sensation you could focus on was the delicious drag of the protruding veins along his dick against your sensitive cunt.
“As do you, oh fuck…as do you, my darling girl.” Obi-Wan confesses, finally managing to push himself up far enough to look down at you. He finds your eyes instantly, the fire simmering behind them surely mirrored in his own. He can’t help himself, moaning your name like a prayer when you tug on his hair and bring him back to you again. You want to feel as much of his body against you as possible, the sentiment completely understandable to the Jedi Master since his own Force signature screamed to dance and blend with your own. He feels his mind give away to overstimulation again, and he fears that the spirit within him may get too accustomed to having your aura call and lure him in with its passionate and raging arousal.
His pace falters briefly, and Obi-Wan realizes it is possibly because he’s beginning to give himself completely over to your presence. In an attempt to distract himself, and against his better judgment, he breaks the kiss and pulls back completely, letting go of you and forcing you to remove your fingers from his hair. You try to reach out for him to bring him back to you but Obi-Wan nods at your hands until they are slammed above your head yet again. You gasp at the sudden action, knowing that you will never quite get used to the feeling of having him restrain you with the energy of the universe. Slipping two of his fingers beneath the fabric of your panties, Obi-Wan tugs on it harshly until it rips from your body, the violent behavior sending a fresh wave of arousal across your body and making you clench tightly around him. He sighs and shuts his eyes briefly, wanting to commit this moment to memory. When he thinks he has a grip on himself, he opens his eyes and looks straight into yours as he brings the torn fabric of your panties to his nose, breathing in deeply until your scent fills his senses before shoving it into the pocket of his robes. You move your hips in tandem with his own, biting painfully into your lower lip when you feel his hands grab your hips tightly and pull you back against his cock until you feel bolts of lightning trail up your spine.
“Look down, look down and see where we are one.” Obi-Wan demands, picking up the pace when you moan his name as you obey him and look down to where you are joined. The sight of his hard cock as it disappears into your cunt almost throws you over the edge, and you don’t dare shift your attention elsewhere, wanting to relish in the feeling of being stretched over his dick over and over again the harder he drives into you. “Oh maker in heavens, you are positively sinful.” You hear him swear as he continues his assault on your core, the sound of his skin slapping against yours suddenly making you shy. While a part of you hopes that the guard waiting outside of your door left, you pray that he was still there, wanting someone to know how good Obi-Wan was fucking you, and how obedient you were for him.
“Please,” you can’t bring yourself to say anything else, your throat hoarse from overuse and the repeated sobs you let out the more unwavering his brutal thrusts became.
“Use your words, my sweet. Tell me what you desire.” Unlike you, Obi-Wan can still form proper sentences, something that makes you quite jealous considering the mess he is making of you. You clench and unclench your fists, thankful that the hold he applied on your wrists was giving you all the necessary pressure you needed to bring your body against as he slid his fat cock against the quivering walls of your pussy.
“Your…hands. I want your hands to- to…” He distracts you with a dangerous grin, settling himself deep inside you without moving a muscle, until you could feel him twitch against that spongy, innermost corner of your cunt. Obi-Wan grinds against you, sending you into a frenzy when you feel your clit throb with need the more he teases you, the coarse hair at the base of his cock making it more difficult to not scream for him to just use you.
“Tell me.” He warns, lifting you up until your thighs rest on top of his own. Your lower back erupts with goosebumps when he grabs your waist tightly and slowly moves you around in small circles, so his cock marks every inch of you he can touch.
“Here, please.” You can’t move your hands so you do your best to mime where you need to feel him still, eyes nodding down before you decide to extend your neck as far back as possible until he gets the hint. You think he’ll jump at the chance, but when he halts his movement, you realize the request might be too far for him. He lets go of you then, roaming his hands across the length of your form, not caring for how shameless his touch appears as he cups your breasts and pinches your nipples. They pebble beneath the palm of his hand, and your lungs threaten to erupt when he flicks each peak with his thumb before sliding one hand past your sternum, to the base of your neck.
“Little angel, I-” he doesn’t move again, and you think your heart might just stop then and there when you notice the tender look in his eyes. Gods, after all of this, he was still being so respectful to you.
“Oh my maker, I’m already so close Master. I just want you to keep touching me, wrap your hand around me. I want you to, I- I need you to.” You’re not sure of what you’re saying at this point. All you know is you want Obi-Wan to take full control of you, have you submit to him completely until you can no longer recognize where you ended and he began. Thinking he’ll now use this against you, you arch your back and try to move beneath him. But as Master Kenobi proved throughout the night, he was much quicker than you, and without missing a beat, he returns one of his hands to your waist to prevent you from moving without his permission again, the other instantly wrapping around your throat and applying pressure that sends you into the next galaxy.
“Filthy little whore, craving such violent needs.”
He groans as he clenches his jaw tightly and snaps his hips against you, sending your body off of the ground before it falls back against him. The force of his thrusts, combined with the tightening hold he has on your jugular and the filthy words leaving his lips, coaxes pleasure out of you that you have not experienced in decades.
“Master, I- I can feel you so deep inside me.” You tell him as you look into his eyes, needing him to feel a sliver of the pleasure he was bringing onto your body. Obi-Wan stutters for a moment, the praising comment wrapping around him like a warm coat, threatening to send him into another dangerous frenzy.
“Feel me, darling. Feel me as I mark you with my cock. Here,” before you can ask him to release you, Obi-Wan moves one of your hands to your lower stomach, pushing your palm down on your navel with the Force while he continues to drag his achingly hard cock in and out of you.
“Oh gods,” you scream as you vaguely feel his length slide against your tight walls, a sudden spike in your ecstasy letting you know that Obi-Wan was responsible for the flood of sensations now coursing through your veins. He doesn’t slow down, nor does he remove the invisible hold he has on your hand, waiting until you were only experiencing him before dragging your attention back to his eyes again.
“There we go, that’s it love. You feel that?”
“I- I’m…” You meet his eyes and feel your soul fall into the ocean of blues now vibrant and visible around his pupils. The rest of the sentence falls away, and you barely manage to breathe as Master Kenobi fills you repeatedly, ensuring that your cunt now recognizes the stretch of his hard, thick dick. You’re on the verge of coming, and you get the sense that Obi-Wan was near ecstasy as well. For a moment though, you notice that Obi-Wan isn’t quite looking into your eyes, but through you.
You want to ask him what he can see, but you choose to prioritize your rapture, chasing it with need in hopes of granting him his own as soon as he feels you come on his cock. You don’t look anywhere else though, the sight of his hair sticking to his face and nearly hiding his eyes from your gaze forcing a string of expletives to leave your tongue. The man somehow managed to look gorgeous in the throws of passion, and you make sure to remember to tell him later that you never thought you would ever see someone look so alluring and provocative yet handsome and graceful as they fucked you within an inch of your life.
Like you, Obi-Wan can almost taste the rhapsody of his body, and he yearns to fall over the edge along with you. But as he takes in your form, so beautiful and wrecked, he can’t help but reach out to your Force signature one last time, wanting to memorize its fiery nature one last time before he completely loses himself to the heat of your cunt as it flutters around him. He inhales deeply, focusing as much of his energy on you as possible, and as he allows his eyes to roam over your shaking body, he finally tunes into the bright, red aura branching away from your entwined bodies and across the dimly-lit room.
Never has Obi-Wan seen such beauty before, the dancing rays of intense red beams filling his mind’s eye with such elation that he can’t bring himself to think of anything else but how incomparable you are to everything that exists in this galaxy, almost as exceptional as the Force itself.
The last thought should scare him, but as he lets go and allows your Force signature to take over his, Obi-Wan comes to one conclusion, the idea of which makes him smile down at you as he presses impossibly deeper into your pussy.
Perhaps red is all I ever needed to touch after all.
As he accepts the reality of this silent revelation, he can no longer hold back from telling you how beautiful you are.
“Feel me, little one. Feel me as I fuck your tight cunt…feel me as I brand your body. Stars, I- I wish you could see yourself the way I do, dear heart. You are radiant…your Force signature is- never have I seen such a bright and pure energy. Oh fuck, I must have you again, I must.” It is unlike him to whisper such vulgar words out loud, but Obi-Wan wants you to know that having you once will not suffice. He hopes you understand that he may be referring to an intimacy beyond this act, but he files that need for later, when he is less terrified of the effect you have on him. He fucks you without abandon, the hold he has on your neck tightening even further when he looks down and watches as you slide your hand up his chest to his neck. You cup his cheek in your palm, willing him to look into your eyes as you give yourself to the pleasure.
“Obi-Wan, don’t stop. I- I want to come on your cock, I want to feel you come inside me…come with me. Fill me with your seed, Master.” You throw your needs into his hand, knowing that the two of you only need the other to reach pleasure so you can fall into your own. When his chest rises and falls erratically, you dig your heels into the back of his thighs as hard as your muscles will allow, wanting him to fill you with his cock until you can feel nothing but him.
“S-sweetheart, I- I can’t last much longer.” Obi-Wan’s voice breaks, and he falls over you when he feels your thumb trace his lower lip lovingly. He rests his forehead against your own as his rhythm falters, but he ensures to not loosen the grip he has on your neck, not wanting to take away any touch that aids in bringing you pleasure.
“Then come with me Obi, come for me.”
“I’m- stars…I- please, my lady, fall apart with me. Come undone on my cock, I’m right there…r-right- ahhhh,” the words die in his throat as he feels the blazing fire of your Force signature strike through him, sending him over the edge along with you so instantly that he forgets how to breathe for a moment. He grinds into you, his cock pulsating harshly against your own fluttering walls as long, hot spurts of his seed shoot deep into your womb. Obi-Wan shuts his eyes as he hovers his lips over your own, breathing in the air leaving your mouth as your body shakes violently beneath him. He can’t feel anything else except the heat of your pussy as you clenched tightly around him and milked every last drop of his cum deep into your cunt.
As his hips stutter, you reach up and mold your lips with his own in a chaste kiss, moaning against him when he unintentionally bucks a little too harshly into you and forces you to squeeze around him in your post-orgasmic haze. Obi-Wan groans in return, loosening the grip he has on your neck and moving his hand to the ground so he doesn’t crush you with the weight of his body. He explores your mouth with his tongue, wanting to make this moment last as long as possible before he pulls out of you. As you move your arms around his neck, Obi-Wan can’t help but smile against the touch of your lips, finding your need to feel as much of him as possible heartwarming. He leans into you a little but makes sure to keep his weight off of you, only wincing lightly when the gentle movement makes him grind against your mound and forces you to break the kiss.
“Little one, are you alright? Have I hurt you in any way?” His voice hovers over the skin of your forehead, smoothing away any doubts beginning to form in your mind now that the two of you were not completely distracted by the touch of the other. You hum contently, nuzzling deeper into his neck as you throw your leg over him and shift closer to his body. A shiver courses across your skin, and you fist your hands into the robes still shielding him from your eyes as soon as you feel your combined juices trickling down your thighs. You flush with heat at the prospect of going back to your home with evidence of this man’s pleasure deep inside your pussy. It’s only when he lays a kiss on your temple repeatedly that you remember the question he asked you not a moment ago.
“Only in a good way, Master Jedi.” You move your hand up his chest until you feel the skin of his neck beneath your palm, and before you can bring it elsewhere, Obi-Wan clasps your hand in his own and pulls it to his mouth. Your eyes flutter open just in time to watch him as he rests his lips right above your wrist and kisses it, gently placing the palm of your hand on his cheek before looking down to meet your eyes. There’s something rather intimate about the Master Jedi allowing you to touch his beard, the gesture oddly more personal than anything else you’ve done thus far.
“No, don’t…please, call me Obi-Wan.” He furrows his eyebrows, the pout forming on his bruised lips distracting you briefly before your mind catches up with what he just said. You blink at him as the teasing grin growing on your expression sends a blush across his face. He swallows the knot in his throat, avoiding your gaze for a few seconds before returning to meet your eyes again. You think he’ll return the smile but when he stares at you with that same, slightly concerned look, you decide it best not to tease him any further. The man has done more with you than he initially wanted so he must have been reconsidering much while he remained in your arms. The least you could do was ease away whatever thoughts were beginning to storm his mind regarding you, and the compromising interaction he’s carried on with you throughout the night.
“Okay…have I hurt you anywhere Obi-Wan?�� You trace invisible circles across his beard, wishing the two of you were anywhere else but here. Even though you know he didn’t spend time with you in return for the information you offered him, you still can’t help but feel that this space was overbearing, or at least, subconsciously making you think of your line of work and his ‘beliefs.’
“Yes.”
The second you hear his response, you sit up and begin to study his body, your hands going from his neck to his arms, down to his stomach and lower where you think you may have somehow left a mark.
“Maker, where have I- oh gods, I didn’t think that-” Your mind is racing with ways you could have made tonight less hurtful to him, but before the waves of anxiety overtake you completely, Obi-wan is sitting up and cupping both of your cheeks in his hands. He rests his back against the edge of the couch, not bothering to ask if it’s alright with you as he pulls you into his arms and brings you across his lap.
“Breathe, dearest. Breathe.” He sighs sweetly, resting his forehead against your own and increasing the volume of his breathing so you can mirror his actions and calm your elevated heart rate. As you inhale and exhale along with him, Obi-Wan lowers one of his hands to your chest, urging you to do the same thing so you can feel his heart through his clothes. Only then does he notice your breathing stabilize, and he dares to open his eyes and look upon you, hoping that his answer is enough to set your mind completely at ease.
“You have hurt me by giving me that which, I now know, I cannot part from.”
The words fall from his lips like the sweetest wine, one that washes over you with an ease you’ve never felt before. The desirable effect slowly flows through your mind, and Obi-Wan pulls back further to meet your gaze so you can see for yourself that he was not lying to calm you, but whispering a confession he was afraid would make this complicated.
“Obi…” You whine his name as you lean into him and mold your lips with his own. It’s a chaste kiss, one that neither of you have experienced in a long time, and the Jedi beneath you sighs deeply into the faint touch as he brings his arms around you to bring you as close to him as possible. When you break apart, you leave a trail of kisses across his face, praying to the maker that the man beneath you understands what it was you were trying to convey to him now.
“You have ruined me, love. In the best way possible.” He says as he drags his hands across your neck and tugs you into his chest, until the only thing filling his senses is your Force signature singing to him, for him. It has been past the hour he’s originally offered when the two of you agreed to whatever this is, but neither of you dare to move or break the moment, afraid the other suddenly remembers propriety and ends this.
Obi-Wan takes advantage of having you in his arms without anything to distract him, rubbing his hands up and down your back until your body sags against him. He dares to rest his cheek against the top of your head, the action making you fist your hands into his robes even tighter, as if you were afraid he was going to leave you now. He has to report back to the Council, perhaps even run over some plans with Anakin, but he can’t find it in himself to move just yet, wanting to relish every moment he gets to be in your presence. When he shifts to accommodate you better, you wince and push off of him, eyes attending to the wet fabric of his pants and shirt.
“Your clothes-” you frown when you realize you made a much bigger mess of him than you initially thought, but Obi-Wan shakes his head and takes hold of your chin, bringing your attention back on him as he smiles at you.
“Should not be a concern to you,” he finishes your thought, his fingers combing your hair away from your face so he can take a better look at you. Under normal circumstances, you’d laugh at the change in sentiment or perhaps joke about his lack of concern for his attire when he made a great deal of it a while ago. But you got the feeling that it wouldn’t be right if you were to treat him like any other customer. As far as you were concerned, he stopped being one a little over an hour ago.
“I have never met another like you.” Obi-Wan says as he trails his fingers down your arms and brings both of your hands to his lips, kissing each palm as gently as possible before placing your hands on his chest again. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he enjoyed it when you rested your hands on chest, and the thought of knowing that he didn’t mind you feeling his heart as he remained in your presence sends a new shiver down your spine.
Maker, you hoped you weren’t reading into this.
The prospect of feeling more for him than he was for you halts whatever train of thoughts swirling in your mind, and you decide to derail whatever conversation he’s trying to start instead of building on the intimacy of the space.
“Flattery will not gain you another hour, dear heart.” You throw his words back at him, hoping that he understands why you are so reluctant to reveal your heart’s desires to him the way he was so easily confessing his own to you.
“I need only look at your beautiful eyes to feel satisfied for the rest of my days.” He pushes yet again, and your heart skips a beat when you feel his thumb slowly trace the top of your lips before cupping your neck and forcing your eyes to stare into his own. Gone is the cocksure smile he was gracing you with a while ago, replaced with stern yet gentle furrowed eyebrows as he continued to memorize every inch of you.
“You- you really do have a way with words.” You chuckle nervously when you notice the needy expression remain on his handsome features, and before either of you know what you’re doing, you’re closing the gap in between the two of you once more. Obi-Wan wants to taste your lips again, but he knows that should he go down that path now, neither of you will be leaving this room any time soon. Instead, he lays the most gentle of touches atop each of your eyes, until your Force signature becomes nothing more than a dancing flame around his own, subdued aura.
Whatever exploration both of you wished to carry out before things escalated suddenly unfolds now, with Obi-Wan tracing faded scars and tattoos littered across your body while you caressed any bit of skin visible to your eyes. He leaned away from you when you got to certain parts of his neck and you almost lost it at the fact that the Jedi Master beneath you was ticklish. It’s only when you meet his cerulean orbs again that you remember something you should have told him before you grew heated and out-of-control.
“I know this isn’t exactly romantic but…well, I just wanted you to know that I am clean, and I haven’t, you know…I never sleep with anyone without precautions.” Had you not been of sound-mind, you could have sworn you said something offensive or inappropriate because the look he returns is one of anger and guilt, and you retract your hands from him instantly, not wanting to worsen whatever feelings currently brewing inside him. But Obi-Wan doesn’t let you back away from him completely, reaching out for both of your wrists and bringing you back against his chest rougher than you anticipated. You fall against him but never break your gaze, afraid that you might miss anything if you were to look away from him.
“My lady, I- forgive me. Please, forgive me. I was so lost in you I never-” It’s Obi-Wan’s turn to frantically part with apologetic words, and you feel guilt eat away at your heart when you see the anxiety welling up in his own threaten to send him into unnecessary panic. He’s tripping over his words, his hands clasping your own tightly, as if he was afraid you’d run away from him. You shake your head at him, but the Jedi throws his head down and whispers harsh words to himself. You can’t help but feel for him, and you mentally slap yourself for not wording the comment better so he doesn’t misunderstand you. When he continues to berate himself, you shake his hands away from you and frame his bearded jaws beneath your fingers, forcing him to look at you once more so he can see that you weren’t lying when you told him everything was alright. His face is flushed, and you hate that it’s not because of your compromising position but due his overthinking mind.
“Relax Obi, I wasn’t saying that to make you feel bad. I just wanted to tell you because I- I wouldn’t have slept with you if I wasn’t sure I am clean. I would never do that to anyone, but you…you’re special, and I wouldn’t dream of taking such a chance. That’s all I wanted to tell you, that I’m clean I mean. Nothing more, I promise.” You look into each eye back and forth, needing to be certain that he fully understood there were no implications behind your comment. But more so, you wanted him to know that he was not like the others, but something more. At least you hoped he could become something more.
Silence follows your calming assurances, and you find yourself able to melt into him again when his shoulders visibly relax and you feel his features contort into a less anxious expression. He nods twice at you before slowly bringing his hands back around your waist again. He squeezes you, silently urging you to wrap your arms around him so he doesn’t think he’s forcing you to be near him. You shut your eyes as you rest your entire body against his chest, the soft material of his Jedi robes a soothing presence against your heated skin.
“So am I, but you probably know that already.” He breathes into the silent air a while later, making you smile against him before continuing to tug and scratch the hair at the nape of his neck.
“I am no Jedi…How would I know that?” You hope the joke makes him less likely to tense beneath you throughout the rest of the night but it holds the opposite effect on him. His hands stop moving again and you pull away far enough to take a good look at his face. You find him blushing a deep shade of red like before, except this time, there is a shadow of a less-than-sure smile threatening to break across his otherwise serene expression.
“Well, as you now understand, it- it does not come easily to me to share this part of myself with anyone.” Obi-Wan parts with the revelation as if it isn’t the most personal truth he will ever confess about himself. You know it shouldn’t be shocking that the man in front of you now doesn’t sleep with just about anyone, but it’s still a surprise, especially since he looked the way he did.
“You- you mean you…”
“It has been long since I have lain with another.” Obi-Wan admits rather proudly, and you bite into your lower lip when you feel his fingers caress the side of your jaw. Unlike the beginning of the night, when you were quite uncomfortable with the exceptionally profound effect the man had on you, you lean into that restless feeling now, knowing that you can trust him with more than your body.
“Oh Obi-Wan,” you lean into the touch, tilting your head to the side to kiss his thumb as it passes over your lower lip.
“It seems you and I parted with important parts of ourselves tonight.” The sincerity behind your words touches Obi-Wan’s heart more intimately than he wants to admit, and he brings you closer into him, if only to try and touch the heated fire threatening to overtake his Force signature.
“Indeed we have.” He accepts the statement with more ease than he thought possible for someone such as himself, the idea of sharing similar moments with you in the future not making him apprehensive.
“And do you…regret any of it?” You inquire, no longer afraid of whether he’ll think you’re mad for holding such affections towards him.
“Not one moment. Do you?”
“Yes,” you respond sternly, barely managing to hold back your laughter when you notice the adorable pout suddenly aimed at you.
“I regret not taking you to one of our better rooms. You would have felt much more comfortable there.” You nod at your surroundings, giggling like a little girl when Obi-Wan pinches you playfully and laughs at your mischievousness.
“If you must know, I do not care for such things, sweet one.” He narrows his eyes at you, but chuckles along as your spiritedness flickers joy deep within his soul.
“Oh yeah, and what do you care about Master Jedi?” You smirk at him, leaning down and mapping his neck with as many kisses as he will allow you before he pushes you away from him.
“Your comfort,” Obi-wan moans, throwing his head back in pleasure when you nip and tug at the skin of his jugular, “…and p-pleasure of course.” He barely manages to finish, already feeling the sweet sensation of your lips shooting southward. Obi-Wan knows he shouldn’t allow you to leave such visible markings across his skin but he finds that he doesn’t care much about anyone seeing evidence of your approval of him, especially when it would only remind him of the time he spent with you tonight.
“Consider the job done.” You hum in approval, licking the bruising marks slowly beginning to show across his beautiful, taut skin.
“Any requests for the next time? A blue room, nicer surfaces, heavier drinks?” The suggestions are meant to be humorous, but as everything else, Obi-Wan takes them rather seriously and he slithers his hands up your arms to grasp your shoulders. He ends up pushing you away after all, but when you do finally meet his eyes, they’re more serious than an hour ago when he was inquiring after your customer.
“If you are not otherwise engaged, I would much rather accompany you to your home than remain here.” Obi-Wan means to ask if it’s possible that he leave with you rather than invite himself over to your place, and he prays to the maker that you find it in your heart to allow him to get to know you better outside of this space. He wants to ensure that whatever passes between the two of you is of your own volition and interest rather than a continuation of what is required of you when you’re in the confines of this establishment.
“And what makes you think I’ll invite you over?” You have already decided you want him to leave with you right this moment, and from the slowly widening smirk the gentleman beneath you was offering you, it seemed that he knew your answer as well.
“Well, I do believe I am yet to taste you properly, and I am sure you would prefer it if I were to part with my so-called offensive robes…both actions for your pleasure of course.” Obi-Wan is finding it extremely difficult to keep his hands from wandering across your exhilarating form, his self-control hanging by the thinnest of threads when he recognizes the buzzing energy coursing through your veins with each desire he unfolds to you.
“My pleasure, hmm?” Your voice is shaking, but you don’t break his gaze for a single moment, wanting to ensure that he truly, and desperately, wants this as much as you.
“Yes, little one, your pleasure. Whether or not the taste of you may bring me to my knees in ecstasy is entirely my business and not your own.” There is a dangerous hint to his tone, and you swallow the knot forming in your throat as his hand slowly reaches to grasp the base of your neck. He taps gently against your skin, making you wish you were already in the comfort of your bed, on your hands and knees, begging him to mark you with his breath.
“Stars above, y-you can bend me to your will just by talking to me.” You shut your eyes and surrender to the peaceful storm gradually overtaking your body and soul.
“They do not call me ‘The Negotiator’ for little, sweetheart. Now, lead the way, and I promise to fulfill all your wishes…including the ones your filthy little mind is too embarrassed to confess to me.”
Tagging people who showed interest in my other Obi-Wan fic/may be interested in this one (some aren’t working): @peachoginuk @purple-mango @zombiesnips-blog @starfirette @marierg @londonian7 @fluffyhales @witch-of-forest @namethathasnotbeentaken @heyhawtdawgs @bluboop @stevenslove @captaincarmel416 @minstens @siidereeus @melifair @midgardianslut @cassrage @tairbutstronger @madnessinwrighting @nicole-lightfoot @storm-breaker7 @pianomad @burningcoffeetimetravel @projectdaydreamer @tropodyn @kenobiquinzel @whydoyouwanna-know @rebloggingfanfictioninthechaos @hellmouthrecs @khapikat222 @pan-dulce135 @black-noir-ink @amunet-06 @hypothetical-strumpet @bigtiddywench @writers-haven-after-dark @galacticspankbank @kagvne @septimaseverinafavfanfic @not1isa @bucket-of-fanfiction @buckmepapi @lights-on-the-ridge @starlady66 @dear-ickis @clonesmybeloved @sinisrebloggin @justmevoldemort @cassrage @icefanfic @uyuartik @feelmyroarrrr @millennial-falcon @littlelioncub43 @astrangegirlsmind @darthjupiter @im-not-great-at-making-up-names @mrsparknuts @cltex84 @fanficsilike-okaylove @poisonous-clouds @mo-i-ra @elledjarin @star-whores-a-new-hoe @justreadingthings @hansonveggieclub @lehns-herr @fnckit-fiction @wheres-the-effing-pie @skvatnavle @stupendouscowboyhairdolover @ilovehimyourhonor @accuningstargazer @metalarmsandmanbuns @buckywhorebarnes @thedaisycrownwitch @artemis-rex @crumbssss @thetimidsarcasticcat @jadesabre83 @teeth-ing @dirty-holy-things
#obi-wan#obi-wan kenobi#obi-wan kenobi/reader#obi-wan/reader#obi wan kenobi#obi wan#obi wan x reader#obi wan kenobi x reader#obi wan smut#obi wan kenobi smut#obi-wan x reader#obi-wan kenobi x reader
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Force Ghost Cody: Why are we looking for Initiate Grogu in a cave full of armored idiots?
Force Ghost Obi-Wan: Luke said he gave the baby back to his Buir, who promptly wandered off to find them in a cave. I think the armorer is force sensitive enough to see us so we could ask her to talk to Din about continuing his meditation training.
FG Cody: Yes, because an initiate without meditation might end up just as bad as Anakin.
FG Obi-Wan: Calm down, you know you love my idiot too.
FG Cody: Shut your whore mouth, General.
Armorer: 0.0??? Oh hello, are you two searching for the light sword??
FG Obi-Wan: Actually, we’re looking for initiate Grogu-
Armorer: Foundling Grogu.
FG Obi-Wan: …foundling Grogu-
Armorer: My bu’ad. Whom you cannot have.
FG Obi-Wan: …
FG Cody: *giggling*
FG Obi-Wan: Sorry, you misunderstand. My nephew, Luke Skywalker, did him a great disservice by letting him leave without promise of mental health help. I get that’s a big part of what you do for your covert, but the issue is, for his peace of mind, he needs regular meditation and reassurance in the force.
Armorer: And you are here to give that?
FG Obi-Wan: Sure. Little Grogu was always one of my favorite kiddos in the temple, from the moment I found his egg in that dumpster when I was thirteen.
FG Cody: I’m sorry you found that baby troll’s egg in a dumpster? What did it call to you in the force?
FG Obi-Wan: Well. I mean. I got tossed in the dumpster and then I saw the egg and grabbed it and felt a life force in it-
FG Cody: You we’re gonna eat the egg before you realized it was fertilized, weren’t you?
FG Obi-Wan: Obviously. I was a bit feral at that age and alone on a mission. It was massive!
Armorer: Hmmm. I like you two. You will join me and foundling Grogu in the mornings for meditation.
FG Obi-Wan: Awesome. Sorry for just intruding on your forge like this and all-
Armorer: No, it is an acceptable reason, to honor the foundlings.
FG Cody: I like you, you’re a bit more stable than the shiny silver one that doesn’t have much thought behind his eyes.
Armorer: Thank you. I have suffered to get him to think for most of his life now. I think this is as good as that will get.
FG Cody: God that’s such a mood. I could tell you stories about getting Ben and the 212th to do what they need to for basic survival. It’s wild.
#they become BFFs who roast everyone#Grogu being found as an egg by a Padawan in a dumpster is so lol to me#star wars#obi wan kenobi#incorrect star wars quotes#incorrect mandalorian quotes#the armorer#the mandalorian#Grogu#force ghost obi wan#force ghost Cody#codywan
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
little longer than a drabble tatooine husbands drabble 🫶
"You know what your problem is?" If anyone else said this to Cody, he'd break their arm. However it's Obi-Wan. And he happens to deliver it with adoration and hearts dancing in his eyes.
"What," Cody says in a drawl drier than the hottest day on this Force-forsaken scorched dustball of a planet.
"You worry entirely too much, my dear."
Cody looks at him. It's a long look. One that ferments the longer it goes. "Right."
"Mhm." He sounds so satisfied as he moseys into Cody's personal space that hasn't belonged to only himself in a considerable amount of time. "I believe I have the facilities to ease such a predicament."
Cody lets himself be nudged to lean against their kitchen counter. His hands find the soft woven tunic around Obi-Wan's unbelted waist. He'll allow himself to be distracted for this; if he's correct about where this is going. "You do?"
This close together, the wrinkles of Obi-Wan's face blur. "Yes," he says and warm lips meet Cody's.
Cody's eyes fall shut. His husband has a gift because, yeah, the soft, insistent press of his body wipes the thoughts from Cody's mind. Easy as anything he gets lost in kiss after kiss. A thumb rubs warm, tantalizing circles just under the hem of his hastily thrown-on top.
When Obi-Wan pulls away, Cody follows. Whiskers nuzzle his cheek instead. Words spoken are a quiet reassuring balm he would never ask for. "Rooh and the banthas are fine. They've likely wandered to graze." That in itself does not bode well but Obi-Wan continues, "No, the local Tusken tribe won't go back on their word and do anything untoward to the dears. They're more likely to return them to us. Our girls are just fine."
Cody exhales long and slow. He noses in closer as the tension releases from his body. A warm embrace.
"Okay?" asks Obi-Wan. Both his hands are under Cody's shirt now, rubbing up his back.
"Yeah."
He feels Obi-Wan smile against his cheek. "Now then," lips purse and lightly kiss him, "come back to bed. By the time I'm done with you the girls will have returned and the Lars will be expecting us for lunch."
Cody follows Obi-Wan back to their rumpled bed, fighting back a smile. When his back meets the mattress and he has a lapful of Obi-Wan he lets it melt away into the joy of life thrumming through his blood.
It's not always like this. They have their moods. The days when the past echoes too loud in the quiet of the desert. But he's here. He's alive. His joints ache and his hair is threaded with more grey than black these days. And, against all odds, Obi-Wan's here with his own hands worn with age that fit perfectly in Cody's.
The first sun starts to creep up over the horizon, filtering in through a slatted window, and Cody mind blurs to enjoy their lazy early morning lovemaking.
#needed them to kiss and none of my wips had the right vibes for it so i wrote this lil thing :3#codywan#my writing#obi wan kenobi#commander cody#tatooine husbands
219 notes
·
View notes
Note
Listen here love, I think about Anakin a lot, specifically him being so flirty and annoying that I just wanna shut him up with a kiss. Because I think it's the only way he would stay quiet.
Oh I agree, he runs his mouth a lot, someone needs to stop him somehow.
Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, flirting, kissing, making out, flirty Anakin, cocky Anakin
Word count: 0.4k
A/N: Damn I love this sassy bitch man so much. The Clone Wars animated show is what did it for me, I can't like and say I didn't melt from happiness when I saw him in the Obi-Wan show.
41. kisses to shut them up
There was one thing that always seemed to be Anakin's number one selling point, and the thing that always got the man into all kinds of trouble, his inability to shut up when needed.
It was a useful skill when he needed to talk his way out of things but more often than that it got him stuck in situations he wanted no part of. Or ones that you wanted no part of. And ones that Obi-Wan wouldn't stop teasing him about later.
"It wasn't that bad. They were gonna run into each other sooner or later, I just... speeded up the process a little." Anakin walked beside you with his arms crossed behind his head, head cocked slightly downwards and his cocky, sunshine smile ever-present. "Actually they should be thanking me, I'm a real matchmaker."
You stopped, your hand hovering over the buttons that opened the door to your living quarters, "Matchmaker? Did the fact that they tried to kill each other mean nothing? They're more likely to fuck each other over then anything else." With a few quick movements you entered the code and marched inside, throwing your coat to the side and slumping onto the couch with a heavy sigh.
"Better for their tribes if they settle their differences in closed quarters then on the battlefield. The meeting went well, they seem to like each other, I don't see a problem with a little kissing." Anakin leaned down and draped his arms over the couch and your shoulders, his head nuzzling against your cheek, "It's how you and I got together."
"Sometimes I really can't stand you, Ani." Yet you smiled at him, which only boasted his already sky high confidence and good mood.
"Then why do you put up with me, eh cutie?" He poked your cheek with his index finger, prompting you to turn your head and bite him, "Admit it, you love me. You wanna kiss me all the time, and just like those two rivaling warlords, you wanna drag me into the bed and- mmnh!" You pressed your lips against Anakin's quickly, which made him smile and melt into you, a little awkwardly but he didn't mind. With your hand you cupped his cheek and massaged the bottom of his scar, "Knew it, you love me."
"I love you when you're quiet." You whispered against his lips.
"Then come and shut me up again." Gladly, very gladly, he couldn't even finish shooting his cocky smile at you before you surged forward, turned your body fully towards his, pushed yourself up on your knees and cupped his face for a deep kiss.
#star wars#star wars x reader#star wars x you#star wars fanfiction#star wars fluff#anakin skywalker#anakin x reader#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin x you#anakin skywalker x you#anakin fluff#anakin fic#anakin skywalker fic#anakin skywalker fluff#anakin skywalker fanfiction#x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Sith Eyes
Anakin Skywalker x Padawan Reader
You come back from your first solo mission to a sleep deprived Anakin. He's a mess over the state of things, he's on orders not to leave the temple while the Jedi sort out Palpatine. You decide to try your best to sort out your master. ROTS alt ending. I have ideas for more parts to follow.
Warnings: smut, loss of virginity, caring Anakin, Dom Ani, baby girl, we almost lose him but there's a happy ending. Reader is a bit younger than him but is legal.
The war felt like it was hurdling towards something. Something that you were unprepared for. The anxiety gripped you as your mission came to a close, you were returning back to Coruscant and you could tell something was wrong there the closer you came.
You reached out to Anakin, he was normally angry, but even that was a comfort. You were always able to reach out into the force and feel his presence. Sometimes you could even feel Obi-Wan. Right now you felt the faintest flicker of your master. This only made you feel worse. Something was very wrong. Anakin was a powerhouse, the feeling of him never diminished it only got more intense with his moods. To barely be able to feel him made you panic slightly.
You ran through the temple happy to escape the politicians of the Sennet building. You tried to feel Anakin to track him down, you knew you were getting closer to him but that faded feeling remained. You thought he might be sick or…worse.
You knocked on his bedroom door feeling strange. The war had consumed all of your time with your master, you never lived at the temple at the same time as him. For the past three years all of your adventures together were off-world, knocking on his door felt oddly personal despite having done it a thousand times while traveling.
He opened the door and you jumped at the sight of him. The feeling that was haunting you was in the flesh staring at you. His eyes were clouded in darkness both in the way he looked at you and in the way it etched around his brown eyes.
“Master.” There was an edge to your voice, the word finished with a high note almost turning it into a question. He looked around you and pulled you into his bedroom. Curiosity won over concern for a split second while you took the space in, it was covered with mechanical parts and tools. The floor was clean and his bed was a mess.
Your eyes found him pacing the room behind you.
“Things are not going well.” His voice was wrong. It was if someone had put a different soul in his body. The hair on the back of your neck stood up as if you had fallen into a trap. There was an electricity pulsing around him despite his obvious exhaustion.
“We can fix it together.” You said cautiously unsure of what you are dealing with. Anakin’s moods were not new to you however this was not something you had felt from him before.
He turned on you and for a moment you were frightened of him, or maybe for him. You weren't sure. He grabbed your shoulders.
“I can’t sleep -” He took a shaky breath and you felt the pain radiating off of him. It was like getting hit with a solar flare of fear and exhaustion. “Palpatine - he’s behind everything.” His voice was so low you had to look at his mouth to ensure you heard him correctly. It would have been easier to speak through the bond.
“He orchestrated the war - he’s a sith.” He closed his eyes for a moment. The guy had always given you the creeps so it wasn't totally surprising to you. He looked at Anakin the way most men had looked at you since you were thirteen. You nodded and he looked so hopeless, if you weren't consumed with worry for him you would have allowed yourself to feel your own disappointment. “I told Windu, they - just want me to sit here.”
He started to ramble about the Jedi, corruption, government, and problems too big for you both to solve in one night.
“He wants me to join him.” His eyes were so sharp you felt their gaze cut into your mind. You shielded knowing exactly what he wanted from you. He wants to know if you will stand by him if he chooses the dark side.
“Let's sleep on it.” You said calmly trying to channel your inner Obi-Wan.
“I can’t” He was on the verge of tears, and your heart was breaking for him. You could feel that he couldn't tell who was right and the pain The Order had so casually inflicted on him was clouding his judgment. He didn't trust anyone, but he could still trust you. He would always be able to trust you. You thought about it for a moment, he needed to sleep this was glaringly obvious. You felt pulled toward him and decided to trust it.
“It’s alright. - Just sleep with me.” You were so immersed in the intensity of the situation you didn't realize the slip of words. “Like - humans are pack animals. It won't be so bad if you don’t feel alone.”
He thought about it for a second staring down at you before falling back to sit on his bed. He closed his eyes in defeat. You took that as an invitation. You slowly got the top half of his robes off before kneeling between his legs. You pulled his boots off and then decided you would leave him to deal with his pants.
Sleep clothes?
Your mind whispered to him and he wondered how ashamed he should be. He had done this for you countless times when you were injured or after a battle when you couldn't settle. He remembered how bad you were after the first time you killed someone. He had to make you a soldier, another thing he had to feel bad about.
He nodded to the wardrobe to the left and watched you move around his leftover projects. Things he had to leave behind once the missions started and didn't stop. You pulled out a top and Anakin assumed you would hand it over to him. Instead, he watched you pull off your robes. Just now he noticed the singed ends and dark smears on them. Panic washed over him at the thought of not being there to help you. Rage at the Jedi flared up inside him and then was completely drowned out by your naked form. You kept your panties on but nothing else. The swell of your breast was enough to drive his mind back to the present.
You pulled his top over your slender shoulders and he closed his eyes trying to find some peace. You went into the bathroom and he listened as you washed your face.
He kicked his pants off and straightened out the blankets on the bed. Sleeping next to you was wrong. Looking at your naked body was wrong. His stomach lurched again for the hundredth time that day. He would do almost anything to end this suffering that had been stalking him since his childhood.
You came back and began to climb over him to settle on the inside of the bed.
In a normal master-padawan relationship you should lean into his energy to ground yourself. He shouldn’t be leaning on you. He felt like he failed you once again.
“I won’t leave you.” You whispered.
“I know.” He murmured knowing he wouldn’t sleep, his thoughts were racing and his breathing was wrong. Your words cut into him in a way that unraveled lots of old hurts. You let out a thoughtful hum. Without thought or care he pulled you up onto his chest. You were awkward as you straddled him trying to keep your weight off of him. He put his arms around you pulling you tight, you relaxed against him he felt you weigh him down. He clung to you. It was wrong but he was in so much pain he didn't care.
He closed his eyes and felt his body relax, the weight of you pulled him back to earth. You fell asleep, and he followed you.
It felt like you were both resting in a shared space. It was dreamless and soothing.
It was 10 am and your legs were numb. You needed to pee and you were still firmly encased in Anakin's arms. His cock was hard and you wanted to remove yourself from the situation as cautiously as you could. You were aware of certain tensions between the two of you and you had both become good at dancing around them. You slowly moved your leg near the edge of the bed down to the floor. You shifted your weight onto it cautiously feeling your muscles sting.
You tried to stand up but his arms crushed you against his chest as he took a sharp intake of breath. Your hips ground down against his hard length. You hissed and he looked up at you. You got lost in his eyes, relief pouring over you at the sight of the warm brown orbs. His eyes studied you as his brain tried to make sense of the situation.
I have to pee
He let you go and you padded across the room to the bathroom. Trying to get your breathing back to normal.
You kept the door open and for some reason it made him feel better. The thought of anything being between the two of you threatened pulling him away from the calm you had both built.
He felt a sense of embarrassment wash over you and he studied you cautiously as you came back to the bed.
Your panties were soaked. A slippery mess, you wanted to go back to your room and change but leaving him wasn't an option just yet. So you climbed back into bed and he guided you back on top of him. The last place you wanted to be, but it was also the only place you wanted to be.
His large hands ran up and down your back, in a soothing fashion. The thought of all the things that needed to be discussed started to stream into your mind. But it was hard to focus with his cock pressing into you, one of his hands was firm on your low back and the other was running along your spine.
After a moment he tensed up. He could feel your pleasure, your wet heat pressed against him. He had no excuse, he could feel your arousal from the moment he woke up. He should have sent you to your room to get dressed. He should have done anything other than pull you right back on top of him.
He had no excuse, he wasn't sleep-deprived. His mind was more clear than it had been in months having actually slept. He had things to confront and yet all he wanted to do was let those obligations go. He didn't care about the war anymore. He didn't even care about the Jedi at this point. But all you wanted was to be a Jedi, he sighed and decided he wouldn't ruin your chances.
We should get up - His arms tightened as he thought it. His body betrayed him. He wanted you badly despite knowing it was wrong.
Or we could rest a little longer - you rubbed your cheek against his chest in an affectionate way. It was so playful he wondered if you were really interested in him in that way. Your core was throbbing and the air you inhaled off his chest made your mind hazy.
I have a feeling about how this will end, I don't think either of us will handle it well - He was trying to resist you, and you reached out with the force and tested the feelings in the bond. How far could you push him? The vulnerability built between you last night made your soul ache for him. You knew he felt the same way.
I think you could handle me just fine - you looked up at him from under your eyelashes. You weren't sure what you were getting yourself into but the force was pulling you along.
He groaned. You felt it through his chest and through the bond. Your body shuddered and your mind was slipping away as he studied your face.
You got tired of waiting and moved your hips. The pleasure you felt was new and surprising. You wanted to please him but you also just wanted to follow this bond to see how deep it went. You wanted to drown in him.
Anakin felt your need pulse through you, he knew he was going to make some poor choices, he also knew he could never deny you. He was going to warn you one last time that it wasn't a good idea when you slipped his boxers down. Everything stopped after that, you wanted to feel good and he wanted to do right by at least one person.
From your cautious approach to touching him, he assumed this was new to you. He kept one hand on your hip enjoying the fat of your ass. Dragging his fingers just above the waistband of your panties. Your hips stopped and he watched your face go blank as brushed against your clit.
The fabric was soaked through and he smiled at the thought of you needing him that badly. You gasped and he needed these panties gone fast. You felt him rip the hip of your panties and his long fingers pushed them down your leg.
Here - he shifted your hips slightly - Let me touch you baby
His fingers ran through your folds stroking over your clit and you let out a moan.
Master - you let out another moan. He worked your clit till your hips were trying to buck against his fingers.
Master - you started again but gave up on words. You grabbed his cock and moved your entrance against the head. His hand gripped into the flesh of your hip.
We don’t have to do that - It was a polite thing to say, but it was entirely untrue. You had to, something deep inside you would collapse if you didn't.
Don’t lie - He groaned at your response. You tried to push yourself onto him, but the pain seared through you. His pleasure bled into you making it tolerable and made you hungry for more despite the pain. Both his hands stopped you from pushing further.
Not too fast - He wanted to enjoy you. Enjoy the feeling of how hard your body was trying to accommodate him. He groaned knowing full well that he could be offered the universe and he would pick this. You were perfect.
His hands guided your hips and he showed you how to take more of him. You always liked it when he showed you things in training, moments when he had to touch you. Now you were drowning in his touches and corrections, his hands were everywhere. You bottomed out after what felt like forever. His hands were rough as he held your hips down, his body rigid. He took up so much space inside you, the bond between you had thickened and it was hard to breathe.
His fingers moved against your clit and you bucked your hips. You moaned and your fingers dug into his shoulders as you tried to move yourself on him.
Your hips were uncoordinated and untrained, something he would enjoy fixing in time. You were ambitious and determined as you chased these sensations for the first time. Just like in training you wanted to be perfect, Anakin decided to give you something really rare. He grabbed your jaw and pushed the pad of his thumb onto your bottom lip. Your mouth closed around it as he brought your face close to his. He looked into your eyes, they were already so hazy. You sucked on his thumb and he knew you would be the death of him. There was no way he would never have enough of you.
“So good at this baby” He said the words and watched as your whole body reacted to them. Anakin rarely ever praised you, it pushed you to train harder. He wanted you to be the best, and he didn't want you to be caught off guard out in the real world. A place he realized he would never send you.
“So tight for me.” His voice was soft and he felt you clench hard around him. He gave you more and more till it was impossible for you to keep up a proper rhythm. It was too much for you but he wasn't ready for you to cum yet.
Be good and let me fuck you baby - He grabbed your throat as you cried out in response. He pulled you down and held you where he wanted, liking the way your throat felt in his hand. He started to fuck you from the bottom and you let out a shout.
He fucked you hard and you took every bit of him. Pleasure blooming through your body. You had no shields up, he was flowing through you completely.
Good girl - he whispered in your mind letting his appreciation and desire run into you. All of you tightened on him. He was getting close.
“Need you to cum baby, I’ll show you how okay?” His voice was rough and it felt like a head rush. You nodded because you werent capable of speaking.
“Gonna touch you again baby. When it starts to feel really good I need you to squeeze around me nice tight, Okay?” You nodded again. He slowed his pace down, he was deeper inside you than before. With shallow thrusts, he brushed his fingers over your clit again and you let out another groan. You still weren't really sure what he needed you to do. Something hot and tight was building in your stomach, and you started to call out for him over and over.
“Master” Your voice was weak and your legs were shaking.
“That’s it baby, nice and tight. Help me cum.” His words sent you someplace you never would have thought existed. White heat ripped though you. Your cunt almost squeezed him out but he pushed himself in you even deeper than he had been. Like the force was pulling him into where you needed him. Your body was forced open while it was snapping shut. Pleasure shot through you, it was all-consuming and you couldn't breathe, then it flowed into crashing waves. You opened your eyes to see him beneath you. His face screwed up in pleasure, your walls contracted around him as he spilled himself deep inside you. The force kept you both elevated and entwined together. Eventually, it lessened its grip on you.
Your vision faded slightly and you collapsed down on him. He still held your hips flush against him not wanting to move out of you. Your walls fluttered around him and you were ready to sleep again.
After a long moment, he sat up taking you with him. He pulled out of you and you wanted to cry at the loss. He carried you to the bathroom putting you on the toilet. Your legs were still shaking and you looked up at his naked form. He was studying you carefully, the bruises on your hips and marks on your neck.
He should feel bad about it, but all he could think about is getting you back into bed to do it all over again. When his bedroom door opened you both jumped. Anakin stepped into the doorway blocking the view into the bathroom.
Obi-Wan gave him an exasperated look before moving his eyes to the floor. Anakin shut the door behind himself and grabbed his pants. He pulled them on while Obi-Wan did the mental math of why your robes were on his floor.
“Anakin!” He hissed, Anakin had upset him enough times to know when he was actually in trouble. “She’s your Padawan!” He threw his hands up and pinched the bridge of his nose trying to center himself.
“Well - “ Anakin started but Obi-Wan spoke over him.
“I told them this would happen. Two attractive - practically younglings - a handful of years apart. I shouldn't have allowed it.”
“So you think we're an attractive couple?” Anakin asked and laughed at his master’s cold expression. Anyone else would have missed the way the edges of his mouth flickered. Obi-Wan gave him a hard stare and Anakin felt something in the force bond between them. It was more fatherly than angry.
“Palpatine has put out an order to eradicate the Jedi. I need both of you ready to go. We don’t know how much time until they arrive.”
I’ll be in the hallway - he added in the force bond before shutting the door.
As Obi-Wan left the room, Anakin gathered up your clothes and brought them to you. He was sad he didn't get the chance to clean you up or make sure you had eaten. You were pretty far gone moments ago and being rushed into battle wasn't what he wanted for you.
“I can feel them.” You whispered while getting your clothes on. A great black mass was creeping towards the temple.
“So can I” Anakin started to think about all the things he could have been doing, but they told him not to leave the temple so really he was just following orders.
The two of them stepped into the hallway, Anakin felt your shoulders shrink down slightly in Obi-Wan’s presence. Anakin didn’t care about anyone's judgment on the topic. You were his and he claimed you. Or was it just sex? He looked at your face as they followed Obi-Wan towards the temple doors. You looked at him immediately and he could feel that it must be more.
Whatever happens, we do it together - You said and he nodded.
They moved into formation as they had done so many times. Anakin liked the feeling of Obi-Wan in front of him to the right and you a pace behind himself partially covered by his right shoulder. He wasn't going to lose either of them, he didn't care if he left The Order, this was his family and it was something so tightly woven within the force he actually felt he could trust it completely for the first time.
When the temple doors burst open Anakin’s heart stopped. Clone troopers pilled into the main entrance. Men he had fought with, been friends with, were shooting at them. If they were here to kill anything other than the younglings, Anakin might have let them.
His mind was scared for you, almost all of your in-battle experience had been against droids. Anywhere Anakin was in this war you were there next to him, also befriending these men.
They fought hard and Anakin swore to himself this would be the last time.
___________________________________________
He knew what needed to happen to end things. After the destruction of most of the temple and the lucky evacuation of most of the younglings, he knew he needed to escape to see Palpatine. Obi-Wan understood his plan flawlessly as always. He and Obi-Wan were two sides of the same coin, he felt his master’s mind calm as ever. They had a moment of reprieve as the clones temporarily retreated.
May the force be with you - He had no doubt in him that Anakin would make the right choice, something that meant more to Anakin than he would ever be able to express. You on the other hand were beside yourself when you realised he intended to leave the battle.
Let me go with you - Your voice was desperate and he felt his whole heart resist his body as he moved away. He had to leave, it had to be him in the end. Obi-Wan grabbed you and Anakin turned away moving through the rubble as the rest of the remaining Jedi regrouped.
Anakin endured your screaming at him through the force bond as he left the temple grounds. The more distressed you were the better, make everyone think he was genuinely going to seek out the dark side. He could feel Obi-Wan trying to comfort you while also trapping you there.
The journey to Palapine was as easy as Anakin knew it would be. The old man looked frail and Anakin took his time listening closely to what he was offering. It was difficult with your pain still radiating off of you freely in the bond. It weighed him down, which also grounded him. He needed to get back to you, he needed to move on with his life.
The truth was a hard thing to come to terms with. Palpatine was correct about a lot of things, especially about the Jedi. To walk the path of the dark side to restore balance made sense to Anakin on a molecular level. That was the only thing about Palpatine that truly made sense to him, he had power of a similar caliber, he seemed to be on Anakin’s level.
“You should bring your padawan,” Palpatine added. “She is nearly as sensitive as you is she not?”
Anakin wanted to laugh. You were high count, well above Yoda and the great masters, but nowhere near where he was. Anakin was certainly sensitive enough to feel the Sith’s intentions towards you. Rage poured over him and took its familiar hold in his mind. Palpatine was intrigued by this shift in Anakin’s mood but before he could move in on it, Anakin drew out his lightsaber.
They fought and it served the exact purpose Palpatine had hoped for, Anakin felt himself slip into his anger. He let all the fear melt into anger. He used everything against Palpatine, the man who had caused so much suffering in the galaxy. How many friends and men had he watched die, and how many times was it his call in battle that resulted in those men’s lost lives? Years of pain ran through Anakin his life flashing before him, all ending back at the beginning with his mother in slavery. The force began to move towards him as if he was a black hole. He pulled the power into him and when Palpatine used his lightning it was easy to grab hold of.
He pulled the energy from the Sith before turning it back on him. He was as everything else was in the galaxy, beneath him. He was burdened with this power, the life force of everything at his fingertips. He watched the fear in Palpatine's eyes as Anakin cooked the man alive from the inside out. Anakin could feel the deflected lightning eating and coursing through the old man’s bones, slowly cooking the flesh attached to them. Palpatine was reduced to ash before Anakin.
Standing there with the world pulsing in him rather than around him left him knowing that a choice needed to be made here. There would be a vacuum with Palpatine and the war gone. The right person needed to step in and take control. Thinking back to his foolish opinions as a teenager, someone needs to force everyone to see reason. To implement order and eradicate chaos. He could see it in his mind clear as if it were real.
The slick vision of an orderly system with the power to keep people in line. He was so consumed in this moment he couldn't feel the world beneath him. Was this the force showing him the vision of his destiny? Or was he forcing the force into what he felt would be easiest?
“Don’t touch him!” A voice shouted. One he knew well. Hands gripped his face, and he opened his eyes.
Anakin looked down at you with the eyes of a Sith. Something far beyond the realm of Plagueis and Sidious, something far beyond the knowledge of the Jedi or Sith. These eyes were sharp and they could see everything, calculations far beyond human emotion. Beyond time and space. Anakin was in touch with something other.
In that moment you could feel the full extent of the power he possessed, just how far it stretched. You knew that if he asked you to go with him you would. Beyond everything, he was not something you would ever be able to turn away from. You didn't need to project that to him or say a word. He had all of you in his mind.
Anakin looked down at you with visions in his head of order and power, but all he could really see was the person he loved causing chaos with. The power washed out of him as he made his choice. His arms trapped you against his chest and he felt how worn you were. Injured in battle, blood was still running from your shoulder.
She needs medical attention, you can stare into each other's eyes in the med bay - Obi-Wan scolded him and the feeling was so familiar it made him want to cry. He could have power and order, but there was something so lonely and isolated about that life. In all those visions of star systems, not one showed him his two favorite people.
He picked you up gracefully and you were too needy to complain. The feeling was different than anything you had knowledge of. You hated not touching him. Not being next to him. Was it the aftermath of being in war together? Was it the force bond between you? Or was this how people felt when they were in love?
Anakin didn’t leave you for a moment as they worked on your shoulder. He had various conversations to have and yet he made every person come to him. It was exhausting but being in silence away from him would have been a thousand times worse.
The day ended and you were staying in a ship as the temple was closed off. You sat around one of the tables in silence just as you had done countless times during the war. Everyone had a million things they needed to say but no one knew how.
“Well, seeing as I’m the one responsible for the two of you.” Obi-Wan began and you were ready for his discussion about how they found Anakin. “Ground rules need to be established.”
“I don’t know if we are staying,” Anakin said softly with pain in his eyes. You knew that it was true though. You both had no idea what direction the Jedi were going to go in, Anakin had given them some very clear ideas that the force had shown him. You could feel he only gave them a fraction of what he saw.
“Regardless of where you go, I’m sure I’ll be close by. So, no bickering when doing business. We can’t be in the middle of a conflict while you guys are having a domestic. It was bad enough before this.” He pointed between the two of you.
“Master, I mean - I think we might be leaving The Order.” Anakin held Obi-Wan’s eyes for a moment. You could feel the bond there, and you knew that much like yourself, if Anakin asked him Obi-Wan would follow.
“And as I said, I’m sure I’ll be close by.” Obi-Wan smiled at the two of you before getting up and moving down the hall to the sleeping quarters. “No loud sex either.” He called and Anakin put his face in his hands.
#anakin skywalker#star wars#anakin skywalker fic#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker smut#anakin x reader#revenge of the sith#anakin skywalker x reader smut#star wars prequels#star wars smut
261 notes
·
View notes
Text
Only one bed: Aotc Anakin x reader
words: 2.6k
synopsis: you and Anakin have to share a room with only one bed.
warning: 18+, insecure Anakin at the beginning, sexual content, use of pet name (stardust), tons of forehead kisses
a/n: honestly, I never know what I'm writing until I get to the end. Anyway, I hope you like it ;)
Anakin pushes the hotel room door open, giving you space to enter. You observe the small room, a single bed in the middle, Anakin sighs standing next to you.
"Trust Obi Wan to reserve a room" He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Well, it's better than sleeping outside in the rain." You shrugged, looking around the small room. "Wonder how master Kenobi and master Plo are organizing themselves in their rooms. Probably is better than ours"
"Ugh, I'm going to kill Obi Wan when we get there. It was definitely his idea." Anakin said, scratching his neck thinking about the awkward situation. "Well stardust, I'll take the floor, you can use the bed."
"Don't be ridiculous, Anakin. This bed has space for both of us." You stated gently. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I'll put on my pajamas" You said, going to the bathroom.
"Alright if you're sure," Anakin replied, trying to hide how nervous the situation actually made him. "Take your time," he called after you.
He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, second guessing Obi Wan's intentions with this room mix up. When you emerged from the bathroom he did his best to act casual, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
"Cozy little room Kenobi found for us," he said with a slight smirk, trying to lighten the mood. But inside his heart was racing at the thought of sharing the bed with you for the night, even if it was purely innocent. This mission was about to get a lot more complicated.
"It's cold here, although not as cold as Hoth" You commented, walking to the bed, wearing a red nightgown.
You were both Jedi padawans though, this was an undercover mission. Still, it made things... confusing.
"Yup, definitely not as cold as Pantora either." He replied with a small smile. "Look, uh, I can take the floor. You take the bed, you need your rest for tomorrow."
He set his bag down and began rifling through it, hoping to find an extra blanket or something he could use to make a makeshift pillow. This was far from ideal sleeping arrangements, but he'd endured worse. At least the mission came first.
"Think you'll be able to sleep alright? I know sharing a bed with me has to be weird."
Anakin glanced back at you with an easy grin, trying to lighten the mood.
"It's just weird if you keep repeating that, Anakin." You replied softly, adjusting yourself on the bed.
"Sorry stardust, force of habit." Anakin replied, closing his bag empty handed. No extra blankets to be found.
He turned back to you, leaning against the small desk. "You sure you're okay with me up here? I know my company isn't always the most comfortable."
There was still a bit of uncertainty in his tone. Even if it was just an undercover mission, the last thing he wanted was for you to feel uneasy sharing space with him. Old ghosts tended to linger, for both of you.
"We can maybe put some pillows down the middle if it'll help you sleep. Dividing line and all that." Anakin smiled gently. "Whatever makes this mission work without anyone getting the wrong idea."
"Just shut up, and come to bed, Anakin." You shrugged, covering yourself with the blanket. "Let's sleep, we'll leave early tomorrow"
"Yes, sure." Anakin replied, pushing off the desk with a bemused smile. He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, tugging off his boots before scooting back against the headboard.
The mattress dipped under his weight as he got settled, glancing over at your form next to him in the dark. "Thanks...I know this isn't ideal. But we're both professionals, right?"
He reached up to flick off the lamp above you, bathing the room in shadows. Laying his lightsaber within easy reach on the nightstand, Anakin folded his hands over his stomach and stared up at the ceiling.
"Sweet dreams, stardust. See you bright and early." He said softly. Then closed his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath as he focused on clearing his mind for sleep. Just another mission...even if 'part of the role' felt a little too real sometimes.
Sometime in the middle of the night, you got closer, sleeping close to each other. You head was resting on Anakin's chest, while his hand kept your body pressed against his.
Anakin drifted slowly awake as his body registered warmth along its side. Eyes still closed, he subtly assessed the situation - the feel of soft hair against his cheek, an arm curled protectively around a slender form nestled against his chest.
Memories of where he was and who he was with came flooding back. This was you, sleeping peacefully in the moonlit room as he held you. An unexpected but...not unpleasant development from falling asleep separately.
He opened his eyes just a sliver, gazing down at the top of your head tucked under his chin. You seemed relaxed, breathing slow and even. Anakin didn't have the heart to wake you, or remove his arm from where it lay draped over your hip.
Letting out a quiet sigh, Anakin closed his eyes once more. Just for a little while longer then, pretending like this was real instead of just part of the mission. Fingers gently tracing idle patterns against your back, he slipped easily back to sleep with you in his arms.
The cold night caused goose bumps on your skin, you moved unconscious in bed, pressing your body against him trying to find a wave of warmth.
Anakin stirred again as you shifted against him, your skin pebbling with shivers. Without hesitation, he adjusted yours position, winding both arms tighter around your smaller frame and pulling you fully on top of his chest.
"Shh, I've got you, stardust" he murmured sleepily into your hair. One hand came up to gently rub warmth back into your arm. Even half-asleep, his body automatically responded to provide comfort and protection.
The new position afforded him more of your body heat in turn. Anakin sighed contentedly, the sounds of your quiet breaths and the steady rise and fall of your chest already lulling him back to the edge of sleep. He pressed a lazy kiss to the top of your head before nestling his cheek there once more.
"Just rest. I'll keep you warm." Loose fingers traced small, soothing patterns along your spine as darkness claimed him again. In dreams, there were no missions or war - only this peaceful solace between you two.
As you shifted even closer, twining your legs with his in a tight embrace, Anakin offered no resistance. Your warmth seeped into his skin where you touched, chasing away the last remnants of chill. A sleepy sound of contentment rumbled in his chest at your nearness.
One hand drifted down to gently squeeze your thigh where it lay over his hip, fingers tracing idle patterns against soft flesh. You fit so perfectly curled into his larger frame, it was instinct now to hold your tight and never let go.
Your breathing slowed his own into a synchronized rhythm. In the still darkness you were two souls finding solace in each other, the rest of the world momentarily forgotten. Anakin pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, breathing your in as you hovered on the edge of slumber together.
"Stardust," he murmured against your skin. Your response was a soft sigh and the delicate nuzzle of your cheek deeper into his embrace. In dreams or reality, it didn't matter - you was everything.
Your delicate hands tightened on Anakin's shirt, you tilted your face still asleep. Your chin rising, making your faces close, your noses almost touching.
Anakin shifted slightly beneath you, arousal stirring as you pressed even closer in your sleep, innocent yet intimate. Your chin aligned with his, soft breath ghosting across his parted lips from the barest distance between you.
All he would have to do is close the tiny gap, capture your mouth with his own and taste the sweetness he'd only dared imagine before now. But that choice was not his to make - not while you slept, unaware and vulnerable in his arms.
Instead Anakin gazed down at your peaceful expression, committing every heart-stopping detail to memory. One hand cupped your cheek, calloused thumb stroking back and forth over satin skin. "You'll be the death of me, stardust," he whispered. Nothing had ever felt so right.
Reluctantly pulling his face back just enough to avoid temptation, Anakin pressed another loving kiss to your forehead. Arms winding even tighter, he willed slumber to take him under once more - away to sweeter dreams where your lips met his with wanting sighs. Soon, this could be real. But for now, just holding you was everything.
You opened your eyes, looking into Anakin's blue ones. A soft smile on your pink lips.
"Anakin" You whispered softly.
Anakin's eyes fluttered open to meet your gaze, heart leaping at the intimate way you murmured his name. A gentle smile curled his lips in return as he drank you in, committing this memory to his very soul.
"Y/n.." Your name was a hushed prayer falling from his lips. Calloused fingertips stroked tenderly along your cheek, down the slope of your neck to rest against your pounding pulse. All the words he wanted to say got lodged in his throat.
Leaning in slowly, carefully telegraphing his intent, Anakin paused a hairsbreadth from your mouth. Eyes falling shut, he awaited your permission - a nod, a sigh, anything to show this was truly what you wanted too. Every protective, caring, longing feeling he had for you swirled in that electric moment, shattering the last remnants of the pretense you told yourselves was 'just the mission'.
Desperately, hopelessly, he was in love with this slip of a woman in his arms. And if you allowed it...he would spend a lifetime proving himself worthy of your heart in return.
A soft gasp escaped Anakin as you closed the final distance, pressing your lips to his in a kiss both chaste yet full of promise. All thought fled under the gentle caress, lost in only you.
One arm curled tighter around your waist while the other cupped the nape of your neck, fingers twining into your silken hair. Your taste was sweet, your sigh of contentment against his mouth like the first rays of sun. When you finally parted, Anakin rested his forehead against yours, breathing deeply as if surfacing from deep water.
Eyes still closed, he murmured, "Stay with me. After this mission...be mine. I'll spend my days making you happy, keeping you safe, if you'll have me."
Lips found yours in a tender collision once more, pouring every ounce of reverence and devotion into the kiss. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Anakin Skywalker felt whole. You was healing parts of him he thought long shattered. All that remained was your answer.
"Yes, Anakin, I would like that. If you allow me to do the same to you" you promised smiling, your hands gently holding Anakin's shoulders, levering yourself up to sit on his lap.
Anakin's arms wrapped firmly around your waist as you sat up, holding you steady on his lap. A brilliant smile broke across his face, eyes crinkling at the corners, still filled with cautious wonder that this incredible woman had agreed to be his.
"You make me happier than I ever thought could be possible, stardust." Leaning in, he captured your lips in a deep kiss, pouring all of the joy, longing and promise of what was to come into the connection of your mouths.
Your fingers danced along his shoulders and neck, setting his skin alight. A low groan rumbled in his chest as you settled fully onto his thighs, feeling the evidence of his desire hard and insistent between them. For the first time in your feigned relationship, nothing about this needed to be pretend.
Breaking the kiss but not the intimate embrace, Anakin gazed up at you with utter devotion. "Be mine, always - in every way." His hands began an achingly slow exploration up your sides, learning the planes and curves of your perfect form. This was only the beginning.
"I'm yours, Anakin, as you are mine."
A shuddering gasp broke from Anakin's lungs as your soft lips traced fiery devotion along the column of his throat. One hand tangled desperately in your hair while the other urged you closer, molding your bodies tightly together from chest to knee.
"Oh stardust..." Your name came out in a strangled moan against your lips, fueling the intimate dance of your mouths sliding together in heated worship. Passion like molten lightning unfurled in his veins, and with it the realization that every forbidden thought and feeling had blossomed into breathtaking reality in your arms.
Wasting no time, Anakin gripped you firmly and with practiced ease spun you both over so you back met the mattress, eliciting a delightful giggle. Bracing on one elbow, his right hand dedicated itself to tracing each beloved curve, learning secrets and treasures hidden under wandering caresses with heartfelt devotion.
Lips traveled your jaw to the delicate shell of an ear, whispering huskily, "I'm going to love you so good you forget your own name, stardust." And with that vow, he set about proving the depths of his adoration through touch, kiss and quiet praise meant for your ears alone.
"I'm counting with that, Ani"
Anakin's breath hitched as your deft fingers set to work undoing the buttons of his shirt, parting the material to reveal heated flesh beneath. Your touch alone was divine torture, lighting his skin aflame wherever they wandered.
"Let me worship you properly, my stardust," he rasped, capturing your hands gently to press kiss-swollen lips to each palm. Shifting lithely, Anakin made quick work of removing the rest of your clothes until nothing stood between the passion of bare skin to feverish skin.
Moonlight bathed your alabaster skin, highlighting rosy peaks that begged for worship. His mouth followed in its divine task, tracing every hill and valley with open-mouthed kisses that pulled sweet gasps from between your lips. Each sound drove him ever closer to the edge of reason, until all that existed was the silk of you beneath him, the music of your release swelling to a crescendo on his talented tongue.
Only once you had found paradise twice over did he enter your at long last, claiming your both with a shudder. Your bodies joined in sacred ritual, each stroke honoring hearts forever intertwined - past roles forgotten in the creation of your intimate future together.
Your cheek nestled against Anakin's heaving chest as waves of ecstasy crested and broke within your joined bodies. His arms encircled your protectively, reverently, one hand splayed across the arch of your lower back while the other cradled your neck, keeping you safe and close.
In the aftermath, you breathed as one - souls wound together in the silken aftermath. Where once there had been pretense of mission, now lay bare honest hearts laid open in perfect trust. Anakin pressed a kiss to your sweat-dampened brow, murmuring praise and promises to you too sacred to others ears.
"My stardust, you have healed parts of my soul I thought lost forever." Your lips met in sweet communion, a benediction sealing hearts that would walk through every storm as one from this moment until the end of days.
You sighed blissfully, tracing the lines of his flesh like a prayer. Your feet hooked behind his calves, holding them impossibly closer still. A delicious drag of his arousal deep within elicited shared moans of delight.
In the oncoming dawn you made love again, reaffirming the perfection of your bond with each worshipful caress and kiss. Two damaged hearts become one in solace, joy, and unconditional surrender to divine completeness. The future waits to be written in the shining light of your love.
#anakin x reader#anakin smut#anakin skywalker x you#hayden christensen#anakin skywalker x reader#star wars#one bed trope
317 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey I hope you're having a good day! I'm sure you've already got a handful of prompts but how about *shakes magic 8-ball* number 17, meeting at a party whilst drunk au!
hello thank you for sending this in!! i'm still working down my list of prompts, and this one is: meeting at a party whilst drunk
i took some liberties with the prompt here though, so really this is meeting (again after a long time) at a party whilst drunk
(2.8k) (gffa, anakin leaves the order after the war au)
Usually, Obi-Wan is better about this sort of thing. It is, after all, a matter of utmost importance. It’s a matter of survival.
Usually, when he receives an invitation to an event, he does not commit himself to going until he can complete some reconnaissance about the other guests invited. Until he knows beyond a reasonable doubt that Anakin Skywalker, ex-Jedi and current husband to Senator Amidala, will not be in attendance.
It is much better this way. For everyone involved, really, but especially for Obi-Wan and his poor fool’s heart. It is much better if they keep an entire planet between themselves these days—preferably multiple planets. Preferably half a galaxy.
But this is a retirement party for Bail, and Obi-Wan cannot miss it. His old friend deserves better than that, better than Obi-Wan’s cowardice getting in the way of a celebration of his decades-long career in the Senate.
So he accepts the invitation without researching the guest list. He thinks—he hopes—that in the past nine years, Anakin Skywalker’s intense dislike of Bail Organa has not waned. Anakin, when Obi-Wan knew him, when he was Obi-Wan’s—Obi-Wan’s padawan—had a tendency to make a snap judgement about someone and never change his opinion.
His hatred had been like an impenetrable wall, unchanging and immovable.
His love had ebbed and flowed, drowned out by his anger or his irritation, coming in great waves when he was in a fine mood and resembling a desert’s drought when he was upset.
But his hatred had always been unshakable once assigned. The very first time Obi-Wan saw it in Anakin’s eyes when he looked at him, a year after he left the Order and the last time they'd seen each other, he’d known for a fact that he’d lost him. That the love had dried up and gone and that it would never return. It’d felt like watching Anakin leave the Temple all over again, like a hand clenched around his heart squeezing and squeezing and squeezing.
So he hopes that Anakin has chosen not to attend Bail’s retirement party. Oh, he knows that Anakin’s wife is here, and he has already downed two flutes of sparkling wine to prepare himself for the sight of her looking resplendent across the ballroom, but he hopes that Anakin has chosen to stay home instead of wasting an evening fawning over a man he never liked in the first place.
Besides, someone should look after the children. They’re nine now, Obi-Wan knows. If they are anything like Anakin was at that age, they must need constant supervision. And he has already seen Senator Amidala once tonight from afar, knows that she is here amongst the party-goers.
He tightens his grip on his fourth flute of wine and turns his attention back to his conversation partner.
It is rather rude to be so preoccupied in the midst of a conversation with another, but Obi-Wan is an old man now and a war hero. He’s allowed to get away with much more these days than he could in the past.
“Yes, I admit the Jedi Order still has far to go in order to rebuild itself,” he says, mind torn between the small talk and the drink in his hand. These sorts of conversations are easy to have. Yes, the war took a lot out of the Jedi Order. Yes, we are still working through the damages and the trauma. Yes, it’s been ten years since, but sometimes it feels as if it was only yesterday. Yes, sometimes it feels as if I am still fighting.
And then—
Then the woman he is talking to grows bold. She rests her hand on his forearm, the one that is holding the flute of wine, and steps closer.
And in the Force, there is a rumbling of pure, visceral hatred, the sort Obi-Wan has only ever felt in the air a few times.
The sort that is achingly, distressingly familiar.
He turns his head, even though he knows he should not look. He knows looking will take him out at the knees. He knows he may never recover if he looks.
He turns his head and he looks anyway. There, across the room, standing to the left of a load bearing pillar is the drawn and furious face of Anakin Skywalker, ex-Jedi, ex-padawan.
Obi-Wan’s first thought is that he looks older, though he realizes a moment later how absolutely inane that is. Of course he looks older. It has been nine years since he really talked to him, eight years since he last saw him, and he has tried to avoid any news or photos about the man at all. In his mind, he is still as he was in those days and months following the end of the war. But logically, he knows that the time has passed, that not even the Chosen One is immune to aging.
Anakin’s hair is streaked with shoots of silver. It’s short now, cropped close to his head though still curling as much as he lets it. His face is worn, wrinkled in different, unfamiliar places. He is wearing finery befitting that of a senator’s husband, the color of a midnight sky.
It is strangely comforting to see him dressed in the same colors he has worn since he was a youngling in Obi-Wan’s care. If he were wearing white or, or green or pink, then Obi-Wan isn’t sure he’d be able to recognize him at all.
“Are you quite alright, Master Kenobi?” the woman asks, words filtering in through the static noise in Obi-Wan’s head.
No. Of course he is not alright.
Yes. He is better than alright. He feels as if his head has broken the surface of the water he’s been trapped under for the past nine years. He feels as if the sight of Anakin Skywalker is a sip of water when he’s on the brink of dehydration.
“You know actually I am not sure,” he tells her, which is overly personal and not at all what he’d meant to say. But that is what the sight of Anakin Skywalker does these days. It throws him off, makes him loose-tongued and off-centered.
Fuck, he thinks once, viciously.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he tells her, carefully separating himself from her touch and taking a step away. She looks disappointed almost immediately, and Obi-Wan should care about the image he’s making, how impolite he is being, but he has bigger concerns right now.
Anakin Skywalker is here.
“Enjoy your evening,” he adds as he raises his flute of wine to his lips and drains it in one go. “Unfortunately, I’m going to go get incredibly drunk.”
“Uh,” the woman says, but Obi-Wan is already gone. He can’t—he can’t stay. Not in this room, not under the weight of Anakin Skywalker’s stare.
Thank the Force he started the night by giving his congratulations and warm regard to Bail. If things turn sour, he’ll be able to slip away with only minimal rudeness.
And, if he’s being quite honest, things have already soured beyond the point of salvation.
But instead of leaving—instead of slipping out the room and running back to the Temple, tail between his legs, he stays. Inexplicably, he grabs another flute of wine from a passing server and retreats to a balcony.
Fresh air will sober him up, he thinks, even as he downs half the flute.
He should leave, he thinks, even as he stays.
He should leave—but he cannot bring himself to. Anakin is here and it’s Obi-Wan’s worst nightmare and it’s the only thing he’s desired for the past nine years.
Barely a minute passes before the balcony door opens behind him. Obi-Wan keeps his eyes pinned to the city-scape around them.
“Occupied,” he says, even though he knows who it is. Even though he knows the word is useless. Anakin will not leave until he wants to.
“Obi-Wan,” Anakin says. Just his name, just three syllables.
Obi-Wan downs the rest of the flute. “Anakin,” he says, closing his eyes for a moment to gather himself before he turns to look at him.
Oh, he wishes he could blame the alcohol for how beautiful he finds him, but he knows that’s just some dark and twisted part of himself, some sinful and perverted aspect of his soul he has never been able to scrub clean.
“How are you?” He says, because he cannot let Anakin speak first. If he lets Anakin speak first, there will be a diplomatic incident, surely. If he lets Anakin speak first, Anakin will control the conversation—Anakin will tear through all of his shields and land on his sorest, most vulnerable spots. “How are the children?”
“Do you even know their names?” Anakin spits back, eyebrows drawn dark and heavy over his expression. His face is flushed. He must have been drinking as well. “How old they are? Do not ask after my children as if you care about them at all, Obi-Wan—I know you don’t!”
“Luke,” Obi-Wan says. “Leia.”
Oh, he wishes Anakin were right. He wishes he didn’t know a damn thing about them, about him, about the life he lives now. One completely separate and void of Obi-Wan.
Anakin probably does not notice his absence. After all, he has a wife, two children. A part-time job, if Bail can be believed. He wonders if he still meditates facing the wrong way, back to the sun, and suddenly his heart feels so tight he can hardly breathe through the pain.
Anakin sneers. “Whatever,” he says and reaches into the folds of his robes to pull out a silver flask. He raises it to his lips and takes a swig, rubbing a hand over his mouth when he’s done, capping it and sliding back into his robes.
It is the alcohol that loosens his tongue, Obi-Wan knows it. Obi-Wan understands that he has had too much to drink tonight to be standing before Anakin Skywalker now, that anything that comes out of his mouth will be something he regrets in the morning.
But does it really matter? How could it matter? Anakin Skywalker was his whole life for a decade and a few years, and then he left. And now a decade has passed. In five years, he will have spent longer missing him than he spent loving him. What does a few words matter now?
Obi-Wan has already lost everything. He is already made of regret.
“I don’t know why you insist on acting so hatefully,” he says. “You left.”
He means, of course, that if anyone should hate anyone here, it is Obi-Wan’s right to hate Anakin.
Impossible, as it were, but his right. Anakin left.
Obi-Wan asked him to stay.
“You kissed me,” Anakin spits back.
And yes, alright. He kissed him as well.
His fingers itch for another flute of wine. Perhaps a swallow of the flask in Anakin’s robes. Anything. Anything to dull the white-hot ache of this conversation. Anything to escape these consequences.
“Nine years ago,” he says, quietly. “It’s been nine years, Anakin.”
Let it go.
He hadn’t—he really hadn’t meant to kiss him. It had been—a foolish mistake, something that had happened late at night, a few months after the end of the war, and they had been in Obi-Wan’s quarters, drinking and talking and Anakin had said something about leaving the Order, and Obi-Wan had said something about him staying, and Anakin had said, Padmé is pregnant, and Obi-Wan—Obi-Wan had kissed him.
A foolish mistake, made only survivable by the way that, for a handful of precious seconds, Anakin had kissed him back.
Before the yelling, the hatred, the anger. The leaving. Before all of that, Anakin had kissed him back.
“I have already apologized, Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispers, exhausted, and his eyes cut away from Anakin, turn back to the city. “I have thought of that moment countless times–-and I cannot begin to explain what came over me, what I was thinking at the time.”
He just—he hadn’t wanted Anakin to leave. Had thought that perhaps if he could—if he could give Anakin himself in all the ways one person could devote themselves to another, then maybe it would be enough. Maybe he would stay.
A foolish hope, one that Obi-Wan should have known better than to entertain even for a moment.
“I have thought of it too,” Anakin says. He clears his throat. He lurches forward, unsteady on his feet. His hand comes into contact with Obi-Wan’s arm, glove on sleeve. Thank the Force for the layers still in between them.
“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan murmurs, and the truth is that he means it as much as he does not. He is sorry for taking the brotherhood and friendship between them and shattering it. He is sorry that he kissed Anakin, that he hastened his leave.
But he is not sorry for knowing how his lips felt against his own. How he tasted.
Obi-Wan is a lonely old man, despite the family he has surrounded himself with at the Temple. Despite his new padawan that he has been training for the past eight years. Despite the trips he takes to see his retired men, Cody and the 212th scattered across the galaxy. Despite all the ways he fills his days, all the people he meets and talks to and trains with, he is still lonely. There is still a hole in his heart, a space that Anakin used to occupy.
“I have thought of it every day since,” Anakin says, repeating himself in that way drunkards do when they have forgotten they already started the same sentence a moment before.
“I’m—”
“It has haunted me,” Anakin says. His voice is sharp and angry and Obi-Wan wants to close his eyes and shy away from it. Obi-Wan, who has faced down Separatists and sith lords and blaster fire, wants to turn tail and hide. Retreat. Retreat.
Anakin’s voice turns—darker, wilder. His hand tightens and he tugs, just hard enough that it overbalances Obi-Wan. “I am haunted by the kiss you never should have given me.”
“Had I known you were married, I never would have—”
“You ruined it,” Anakin snaps. “You ruined my marriage!”
“I…” Obi-Wan’s throat clicks, words drying out. “What?”
“We filed for separation months ago,” Anakin says. His eyes are dark; he is holding his arm so tightly that it hurts. “Joint custody of the children, but a formal divorce. Amicable.”
Obi-Wan…Obi-Wan doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know if he can speak at all.
“It wouldn’t have been amicable if she knew though,” Anakin says. He takes a step forward. Obi-Wan gives ground. He does not know how else to fight Anakin. “If she knew what I thought about when I retreated from her touch. If she knew what—who—drove me from our bed every night to walk through our house like a ghost wandering the halls.”
“If your marriage ended over a kiss I gave you nine years ago, then it is hardly my fault,” Obi-Wan says, putting his hand on Anakin’s chest to keep distance between them. When did they become so close? This is much too close. Obi-Wan can smell Anakin’s soap, his sweat. The alcohol on his breath.
“But it is,” Anakin insists, unable still it seems to take his share of the blame and make his peace with it. “It is, because I spent half my life in love with you, then I finally commit to someone else—allow myself to look and love and appreciate someone else’s beauty—and then you kiss me, as if I have not already sworn loyalty to another! As if I could be yours to kiss! As if I still was!”
Obi-Wan shakes his head, unable to do more. “It was a kiss, Anakin, it was—I assure you, I am not such a good kisser that I can be blamed for your failed marriage when it was nine years ago!”
“Then you do not remember it as well as I do,” Anakin murmurs, and now—now the rage has turned darker, heady. His eyes catch and hold onto Obi-Wan’s lips. His eyes are more black than blue. His face is flushed. He is—so handsome. So beautiful still, after all of these years. “Let me refresh your memory,” he says, and Obi-Wan—
Obi-Wan is weak when it comes to Anakin. He always has been. He is so weak. And he needs—he needs so much. He makes a sound, something embarrassingly small and desperate, and then Anakin is kissing him and it feels like being sliced open and like coming home, all at the same time.
Like how it felt when he returned to the quarters he shared with Qui-Gon after his master had died—a homecoming, but at what cost? A death and a birth, all at the same time. He had lingered in the doorway that first time, unable to push himself across and into quarters that felt both strange and familiar.
It had been Anakin, a small boy still, who had grabbed him by the hand and pulled him inside.
Still now, even all these years later, Obi-Wan closes his eyes and allows himself to follow Anakin’s lead.
#asks#prompt fill#obikin#angstyyyyy#in my mind they kissed nine years ago and anakin left the order like basically the next day#and then they saw each other rouhgly a year later#and it was tense but not like quite so hatefilled#and then anakin finds out obi-wan got a new padawan and that steps on like ten thousand issues#aided by the distance theyre both trying to put between them then#and so anakin falls back on hatred and obi-wan falls back on trying his best to ignore the problem#by ignoring anakin#because after all#anakin left. obi-wan asked him to stay. and anakin made his decision#obi-wan is just respecting it
107 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Undercover." — Anakin Skywalker.
— CW: 18+, smut! Crossdressing. Feminization kink. Masturbation. Brief Blowjob. Anal play. Dom/sub dynamics. Don't like? Don't read <3. | Word count: 1.3k (not proofread!)
— a/n: This is the prompt of the day. Reader and Anakin talk a lot about femininization and stereotypical feminine stuff. If you are not comfortable with this it's okay to skip!
— List of films! | Taglist.
Stepping inside the tent, Anakin removes the silk mask that covers his nose and lips, mimicking his action you leave the fabric on the small wooden table your hostesses were nice enough to provide you with. His blonde curls are styled in a half ponytail and multiple braids— in a strange manner that reminds him of his Padawan braid.
“This is so… weird,” Anakin complains, lowering his gaze to frown at the long, loose dress that you managed to find for him. His broad complexion was barely concealed under the dark layers. It was somewhat noticeable that Anakin didn’t possess the most… stereotypically feminine shape, but it worked and you managed to enter the matriarchal tribe, where just like the name hinted: men weren’t allowed. Plus, Anakin was playing his part well enough to be convincing. “Can I take this off?”
“No, you can’t,” You reply skating your head. “We have a mission to complete, and if they find out you are a man we will be kicked out of the village— and the Council will be furious.” Your eyes roam over his body, noticing the way his narrow hips stretch the fabric which is clearly not made for him.
“Stop staring” Anakin protests, crossing his arms over his chest only accentuating the unnatural creases of the dress.
Covering your mouth with the back of your hand to suppress a giggle, Anakin’s cheeks redden at your reaction. “I mean— you look pretty… Alynna.”
“Shut up.” He mumbles taking a deep breath. He hated the name you picked for him last minute, when the matriarch of the village welcomed you two and curiously eyed up Anakin, murmuring something to the other elder woman standing next to her.
Anakin immediately asked you what she said and despite your precarious knowledge of their native language, you managed to understand two words: “ugly” and “woman”.
Needless to say, you lied to Anakin, murmuring something about their words being too complicated for you.
There’s something odd growing inside his chest— Anakin feels slightly trapped in these clothes, but not in an… awkward way. Of course, he misses comfortable black Jedi robes, but he knows he has to play along with the mission, even if it messes up with his head in a way he only considered in the deepest corners of his mind. “Well, thanks for admitting I am hotter than you,” He smirks trying to ease his mood and the turmoil that creeps on his body, although the situation is far from funny. “But seriously, it’s uncomfortable. And not just because of the braids and this damn dress and— these” He pauses, cupping the fake breasts that are mid-size coconuts Obi-Wan managed to find. “It feels strange being treated like a woman all of a sudden.”
It was so strange that it gave him a certain ick of arousal.
“Congratulations, now you know how I feel every day” You shrug. Walking closer to him you place both hands on his shoulder, leaning closer and offering him a reassuring slime. “And you look good, I promise.” He did, but that wasn’t new. “Look at the bright side— we are alone! And you know that doesn’t happen often.” You whisper with a smile, standing on your tiptoes to press a gentle peck on his lips.
“If that’s the only bright side here, then I think we need to reconsider our Jedi choices.” He quips, trying to lighten the mood as he places his hands on your hips. You are wearing a similar dress as his but in a deep plum color. He is just as mesmerized as you are; Anakin is used to seeing you in your daily Jedi robes and— well, naked. So, the change of scenery is a nice gesture. His fingers drum on your hipbones, crooking his head to deepen the kiss pushing to the back of his mind the fact that he is still dressed up as a woman.
The kiss escalated quickly, and soon you straddle his lap on one of the small bunk beds. Anakin’s hands squeeze your ass while you grind against his erection. If you are weirded out by your oddly feminine boyfriend, you don’t show any signs of it. Tugging at his hair, Anakin releases a deep moan, to which you cover his lips. “Shut up— that’s too— too manly.”
“And what?” He speaks against your palm. “Do you want me to moan like a girl now?”
It’s easier to pretend to be annoyed.
“If you can…” You start, rolling your eyes.
“No, absolutely not.”
“Why?” You lean closer, still covering his mouth with your palm. Your hips continue to roll over his clothed crotch, providing him with much-needed stimulation. His hands on your ass guide your smoothly setting up a relaxed pace. “Is the Chosen One scared that the Galaxy finds out he wants to be fucked while dressed up as a woman?” His breath hitches at your words, he is cornered and you both know it. “Don’t worry pretty girl. Let me make you feel good.”
Oh, the tables have turned; It’s always been him taking charge and being dominant, but now it is as if you found his dirtiest little secret and you are using it to make him bend at your will. Anakin knows you would never judge him but… but this is different. You take advantage of his silence to push him further to the little fantasy you recently discovered.
“I saw the way you looked at yourself in the mirror earlier Anakin… I know you liked it.”
Undoing the bows on the sides of his dress you begin to peel the layers slowly. Discarding that ridiculous makeshift bra you touch his toned chest, reaching for his nipples to pinch them gently. “Your thoughts are too loud, darling” Your wet lips meet his jaw, kissing him softly. “If you like this there’s nothing wrong with it… let me take care of you, let me make you feel good, doll.”
His cock twitches underneath the remaining layers of the dress, aching for attention. Kneeling down, you ask him to sit on the edge of the twin-size bed and he complies immediately. Lifting up the fabric you meet his cock, no underwear.
“Naught girl.” You bite your lip, wrapping a hand around the base. “I thought you were going to be my good girl, not a little whore.”
“S–Sorry.” He moans, embarrassed at how quickly his body submitted to this fantasy.
Kissing the tip, licking the precum, you hum. “Don’t apologize, darling. It’s alright.” Your voice is sickly sweet it sends a shiver down his spine. Spitting on his cock, Anakin thrusts his hips at the feeling of your hand fisting him slowly, not noticing how you are licking and sucking your own fingers, too busy trying to keep his growls and groans to the minimum.
“Oh!” Anakin gasps, feeling your fingertips prodding at his entrance. His tight hole clenches at the sudden intrusion but your soothing voice helps him relax. After a long, heavy breath, Anakin’s shoulders slump, and his legs grow soft, allowing you to thrust your index and middle fingers slowly.
“Look at your pretty little pussy swallowing my fingers baby.” You coo at him, sliding the digits further to reach that spot that will make him shiver. “There you go— see? It feels good. Uh-uh, it does. Good girl. Make yourself feel good.”
It feels weird to be listening to the same words he says to you constantly, but Maker do they feel good. The thrill of you complying and fulfilling one of his most hidden kinks is thrilling, something he never thought would happen. Perhaps that’s the reason behind his approaching orgasm.
Anakin bites his lips as his messy hair falls over his face and shoulders, he looks absolutely sinful.
“Be a good girl and come, okay? Next time I’ll get a nice cock to fuck you.”
🌊Taglist!: @jellydodger | @sythethecarrot | @bimbo-baggins86 | @haydensgirlaela | @grimkaos | @dianaaxoxo | @arzua10 | @forcemeanakin
— 🐚 if you wish you be added to my taglist there's a google forms in the beginning of the post! There you can select which days you would like to be tagged in (or choose the option: all the above!). If you send me a DM or an ask I will tag you on every day! | some tags might not work due to your settings, so let me know!
#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 kinktober 2023!#anakin skywalker#anakin skywalker smut#anakin skywalker x reader smut#anakin skywalker x you#anakin skywalker one shot#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker x y/n#anakin skywalker x female reader
184 notes
·
View notes
Text
riding the law au aka 50 y/o obi-wan who’s getting divorced and has the hots for 23 y/o law student anakin who is assisting with his case
enjoy!
(3k)
* * *
“You could at least try to look happier to be here,” Quinlan says without looking up from studying the desserts as he flips the page of the menu. “It’s not like I’m making you put out after. Although, it might improve your mood.”
Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, barely holding back an inelegant snort. “If you made me put out for inviting me to lunch?”
“Baby, you would be begging me for some sweet birthday love before the desserts are served if I turned it on,” Quinlan quips without missing a beat. When Obi-Wan flicks his eyes up to look at him, Quinlan is still studying his menu but the smirk on his face is insufferably cocky.
“Don’t call me baby.” Obi-Wan already regrets agreeing to come out for lunch today. He had very firm plans to avoid his phone or thinking about his current state of affairs by day drinking on his couch while watching wildlife or history documentaries. But in a moment of incandescent insanity he had made the mistake of telling Quinlan as much.
Which had landed him here. At a stupidly fancy restaurant for lunch with his best friend (though he is currently debating that label, really), in a fine suit, and nowhere near the sad state he’d hoped to be in by this time of day (without the option of achieving it either, given the very public and very pretentious setting).
“Sorry, daddy,” Quinlan says, and maybe Obi-Wan doesn’t need to get drunk. Maybe he needs to whack Quinlan. In the very public and very pretentious restaurant. The menu is solid enough to make it sting, at the very least.
Quinlan snaps his menu shut and leans back in his chair. “No objections to the sweet birthday love then?” he drawls. “The big five-oh deserves a formidable…entry, you know.”
“I will enter you,” Obi-Wan answers, reaching for his wine glass, “in a Taylor Swift lookalike contest. After bleaching your hair.”
Quinlan clutches at his chest with wide eyes and a barely concealed grin. “Vicious,” he gasps with faux-terror. “And here I thought you’d lost your edge and turned—” He scrunches his nose. “—vanilla.”
“Compared to you I have always been vanilla,” Obi-Wan says before taking a sip from his wine. At least his day involves day drinking after all.
Quinlan grins, wide and toothy, moving his own glass to make the wine swirl. He hums, eyeing Obi-Wan over the rim as he takes a sip. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, stud.”
Obi-Wan doesn’t deign to answer and instead returns to studying his menu. It’s never a good idea to let himself be goaded by Quinlan, and after years of friendship he does know all of Obi-Wan’s buttons, and even though he’s always insufferable about it, sometimes he pushes them to make Obi-Wan feel better.
“Aren’t you excited to be able to let loose in your prime cougar years?” Quinlan asks. “I distinctly remember you saying you look forward to getting finer.”
“I said older,” Obi-Wan points out without looking up.
“Same thing.” There’s that grin in Quinlan’s voice. He’s clearly not yet given up. “Come on, Kenobi, unclench. Why are you suddenly acting like your life is over?”
Obi-Wan sighs as he puts his menu down. “I’m f—”
“Mr. Kenobi?” a voice cuts in, and Obi-Wan snaps his mouth shut.
There’s an excited flutter in his chest, warm and thrilling, as he turns to face the source of the voice.
Anakin.
Anakin who had told Obi-Wan how excited he is about the opportunity to help out at the firm and with Obi-Wan’s case to gain work experience while studying to become a lawyer himself. Anakin who soaks up Obi-Wan’s attention like he’s been starving for it. Anakin who, in turn, gives Obi-Wan his own undivided attention whenever they talk, focusing on him like a laser and making Obi-Wan sweat from it beneath his shirt.
Anakin who is twenty-three years old.
Anakin who is blinking big, blue eyes at him, a faint but earnest smile playing around the corners of his mouth as Obi-Wan meets his gaze.
Obi-Wan unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth.
“I’m sorry for the intrusion,” Anakin says as his eyes trail curiously over to Quinlan. “I saw you when I came in, and I thought I’d say hi.”
“No apologies necessary,” Obi-Wan says, waving him off. His mouth feels bone-dry. “Just having lunch with my f—”
“His side piece,” Quinlan cuts in with the sharp grin of a wolf. He’s leaned back in his chair, one arm hung over the backrest and holding his glass in the other hand, and oh, Obi-Wan is going to—
“He’s—you’re not.” Obi-Wan turns from Anakin to Quinlan. It comes out with far more vehemence than he anticipates, carrying a note of urgency and desperation that is entirely unbecoming on someone his age, really, especially regarding this; especially in front of Anakin. “You’re not flexible enough to be my side piece.”
Quinlan sniffs. “It’s not like you give me time to stretch.”
Obi-Wan doesn’t groan. He should’ve known better than to engage Quinlan. He does know better. “You know you don’t have to take every opening I give you,” he points out, and regrets it immediately.
Quinlan’s grin grows impossibly sharper.
“Don’t.” Obi-Wan levels him with a look and watches Quinlan raise his eyebrows, shrugging nonchalantly.
Turning back to Anakin, Obi-Wan finds him looking—Obi-Wan would say intrigued if he didn’t know better. There is a part of him that wants to run wild imagining the things Anakin would find enthralling, the things he’d enjoy, the kind of banter he’d engage in and how he’d react. But Anakin’s gaze sweeps over Quinlan once more before returning to Obi-Wan and it’s—unsurprising and not even quite disappointing. Quinlan has an effortless charm about him that’s hard to compete with.
Not that Obi-Wan is competing. He may be on his last shred of composure and dignity when it comes to Anakin but that one is still holding.
For now.
“Apologies,” Obi-Wan offers. Anakin blinks as if he’s coming back to himself. “Quinlan grew up surrounded by mannequins, with no human interaction, so he doesn’t know what is appropriate in social situations and what is not.”
“Sorry, daddy,” Quinlan chimes in.
Obi-Wan very nearly kicks him under the table.
“Uh,” Anakin says as he drops his eyes to his feet. There’s a flush high on his cheeks: a pretty, dusky pink that draws Obi-Wan’s attention like a beacon. He’s seen Anakin blush before; he actually quite enjoys flustering that boy himself and watching the color spread across his tanned skin. Anakin’s responsiveness is intoxicating. It’s dangerous.
Anakin looks back up and releases his bottom lip, now even plumper than usual and slightly shiny with spit, from between his teeth.
Obi-Wan’s last shred grows precariously thin.
Anakin clears his throat before he says, “Uh, nice to—um—meet you,” as he turns his attention to Quinlan once more.
Obi-Wan is never going out with Quinlan again, no matter how slim the chances are of running into Anaki—people. Who Obi-Wan may or may not be more or less ruinously attracted to.
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan starts before Quinlan gets rolling again, “works at the law firm handling m—the divorce. He’s helping with the case.”
Quinlan’s eyebrows rise in interest and so does Obi-Wan’s blood pressure. “Is he?” Quinlan comments, in a tone that is far too casual for Obi-Wan’s liking. He hums, diverting his gaze from Obi-Wan back to Anakin. “And how is that going?”
Anakin ducks his head again and the way his lashes fan out over his cheeks is criminal. Obi-Wan takes a sip of his wine, bemoaning the fact that its quality is too good to burn on the way down his throat to distract him.
“Sorry we couldn’t get you your dog,” Anakin says, looking back up and squarely at Obi-Wan. The earnestness in Anakin’s big, blue eyes makes Obi-Wan’s gut clench with the desire to ravish him.
He smiles mildly instead. “Oh, that is quite alright,” he promises. “It has always been Satine’s dog. I am not a pet person myself. But the dog did get me the beach house in Naboo.” Despite himself, Obi-Wan can’t keep the satisfied glee out of his voice entirely.
Quinlan barks out a laugh and Anakin stares at Obi-Wan as if he’s seeing him for the first time. Which, Obi-Wan supposes, cursing himself for his own arrogance, he does. Leveraging the damn dog to get the beach house had been a dick move but he’d felt petty and vindictive at the time. Satine loves her flea carpet too much to have given it up just to spite Obi-Wan. Of course, Obi-Wan hadn’t told Anakin any of that for fear of losing Anakin’s eager attention.
Good job.
“Oh.” It rushes out of Anakin in an exhale. “That’s—you’re—”
“Such a bitch?” Obi-Wan suggests, choosing to own his gracelessness.
“Yeah,” Anakin says—and immediately colors beautifully. “No! No, of course not.” He clears his throat, hands flexing. “You just—you know how to get what you want.”
There’s an odd quality to his voice, a sort of low, alluring timbre that sounds…obscene.
Or maybe Obi-Wan is just a dirty old pervert.
Quinlan looks like he’s having the time of his life when Obi-Wan’s gaze lands on him after averting his eyes from Anakin. Oh, he’s never going to hear the end of this. At least Quinlan is keeping his mouth shut for once.
When Obi-Wan chances a glance back at Anakin, Anakin’s eyes are tracking over his suit, and the precise attention of his gaze makes heat rise up within Obi-Wan.
“Special occasion?” Anakin asks when he notices Obi-Wan looking. His eyes flicker to Quinlan for a brief moment.
Obi-Wan is so busy trying to decipher what conclusion Anakin could possibly have come to that he momentarily forgets to answer.
“It’s his birthday.” Quinlan mock-whispers, pressing his right hand to the left corner of his mouth conspiratorially. “He’s being very blushy about turning fifty.”
If Obi-Wan was a lesser man, he might have considered amicicide. As it is, he feels himself brace for something as a wave of dread washes over him and drowns whatever imaginary chance he may have entertained about having with Anakin.
“Fifty?” Anakin says. His eyes track over Obi-Wan like lasers. “Really?”
Quinlan smirks. “Like a fine wine.”
“I’m a very exclusive vintage,” Obi-Wan snaps. He doesn’t chug the rest of his wine but it is a close call, especially when Quinlan’s smirk grows wider, more mischievous.
“An acquired taste,” he offers.
Obi-Wan puts amicicide back on the table.
But then Anakin croaks, “Yeah,” and it sounds like all the air comes rushing out of his lungs. He looks a little faint.
“What?”
Anakin blinks and clears his throat. “I better get going, uh,” he says. Obi-Wan can watch the flush work its way down Anakin’s throat and disappear below the collar of his shirt.
(He wants to follow it all the way down with his tongue.)
“I’m, uh, running late already.” Anakin sucks in a breath. “Happy birthday, Mr. Kenobi.”
Anakin is already retreating when Obi-Wan finds his voice again. “Obi-Wan,” he corrects, without even thinking.
Anakin stops and looks at him. “Obi-Wan,” he repeats, a little wondrous, a little breathless, as if he’s revealing a secret. The sound of it runs through Obi-Wan like molten gold.
Obi-Wan clenches his jaw, imagining what his name would sound like if Anakin moaned it, gasped it, screamed it while writhing in pleasure beneath him.
With a final nod, Anakin turns and walks away. He’s not wearing a suit jacket today, exposing the long lines of his torso. Obi-Wan has wondered more than once how his hands would look on Anakin’s trim waist. As his eyes trail after him, Obi-Wan imagines grabbing it, pulling Anakin back against his body by it and—
He tears his gaze away and makes himself breathe a deep inhale and exhale.
Quinlan is practically noisily vibrating with barely contained glee when Obi-Wan turns back to him.
“Thinking about getting yourself a little birthday treat?” he asks, leaning forward like Obi-Wan is going to tell him a juicy piece of gossip any second.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Obi-Wan says. It’s a pointless battle, he’s aware. “I’m more than twice his age.”
Quinlan kinks an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “So?”
“He could be my—”
“Boy toy?”
He says it just as the waiter arrives at their table to take their dessert orders. Obi-Wan wonders if he can get them to substitute the coffee in their tiramisu with tequila.
He ends up ordering more wine.
“He’s cute,” Quinlan notes as he hands his menu back to the waiter.
“He’s too young for you,” Obi-Wan retorts drily. He’s drunk the last of his wine already which is a shame because he really needs to throw something back.
Quinlan snorts and wiggles his eyebrows. “Oh, he is. We both know I lean more towards…man toys.”
Obi-Wan passes a hand down his face and swallows the groan that threatens to burst out of him. Quinlan cackles as if someone told him the funniest joke he’s ever heard. Bastard.
“Are you going to ask out the pretty baby lawyer?” Quinlan asks, nudging Obi-Wan with the tip of his foot under the table. “Bang it out? You deserve a nice rebound screw. I bet he meets your high standard of flexibility.”
Obi-Wan will hear about it until either he dies or Quinlan.
“Youth does not equal flexibility,” Obi-Wan points out.
“But you have fantasized about bending him in half,” Quinlan states. He states. Like it’s a fact. Like he knows it to be a proven truth.
The worst part is that he’s right. Which Obi-Wan can’t admit to his face because Quinlan might pop a gleeful aneurysm.
(…maybe Obi-Wan should admit to it.)
He’s spared the embarrassment of answering because the waiter returns with their desserts. It’s not like there is anything he can say to convince Quinlan otherwise anyway and Obi-Wan doesn’t feel like arguing about it.
“Seriously, Obi-Wan,” Quinlan starts as he generously piles his dessert’s whipped cream onto his spoon. “What’s the big deal?”
Sometimes he feels like Quinlan is being deliberately obtuse and it’s one of his most irritating qualities. “Because I am fifty, getting divorced from my wife of twenty-three years, which is, coincidentally, also how old Anakin is, and I am starting petty arguments with her just to get the things I want out of this divorce even though this split is mutual. I think I’m having enough of a midlife crisis as it is,” Obi-Wan points out through gritted teeth. He doesn’t need to add fucking a twenty-something to the list pathetic things men his age do. “Besides, Anakin is just being friendly. He saw a client, he said hello. It’s called ‘being polite’. You should add that to your behavioral repertoire.”
Quinlan looks entirely unimpressed. He scoops up more whipped cream. “A divorce isn’t a midlife crisis. Turning fifty isn’t either,” he says with a shrug before spooning the cream into his mouth. “And from where I’m sitting, Anakin was very politely turned on, so you know, that boy is DTF—down to frolic, to explain it with your elderly vocabulary, and he’s young enough to know all the tricks in the book to help you relieve all that stress and tension.”
Before Obi-Wan can respond, the waiter reappears at their table carrying a tray with two empty wine glasses and a bottle.
“We didn’t order this,” Obi-Wan explains when the waiter puts down the glasses in front of them.
“This is courtesy of Organa and Amidala,” the waiter answers with a small smile as he starts pouring the wine. “Happy birthday, Mr. Kenobi.”
Quinlan picks up the bottle once the waiter leaves and reads the label, a slow grin tugging at his lips. “Courtesy of Organa and Amidala, huh?” Raising his glass to his nose to smell the bouquet, his grin widens. “A very nice vintage. Bet he really enjoys these old grapes himself.”
Obi-Wan squeezes his eyes shut and draws his fingers over his beard, trying to will himself away. He can feel heat rising into his face. The truth is if he allows himself to entertain any thought of actually…engaging Anakin, there is now way he’ll be able to stop. The thought of pursuing Anakin ignites an excited flutter in his stomach, a wildfire of desire that licks up his spine and dries out his mouth. Anakin entices him in a way nothing has in a long time.
It would be inappropriate to take advantage of Anakin’s interest, especially since Obi-Wan’s own stems from the selfish wish of distracting himself from his current situation and to satisfy his own desires. Anakin deserves better than that.
And yet the thought of peeling Anakin out of his suit piece by piece and spreading him out on his bed doesn’t leave Obi-Wan’s mind.
Obi-Wan surrenders his own dessert to Quinlan and decidedly does not think about having one that is way better. In return, he gets a dozen more innuendos that get progressively worse and worse but somehow still manage to make him bite back exasperated laughs.
“Your lunch has already been paid for, another courtesy by Organa and Amidala,” the waiter explains after Quinlan’s ordered the bill. He places the check presenter on the table in front of Quinlan.
Quinlan scowls. “Then what is this?”
The waiter smiles politely. “Mr. Skywalker covered Mr. Kenobi’s bill.”
Obi-Wan has rarely seen Quinlan this flabbergasted. His gaze drops from the waiter to Obi-Wan and he narrows his eyes at Obi-Wan’s barely contained smirk.
“You deserve each other,” he hisses as he puts his credit card into the presenter and hands it back over.
Obi-Wan starts to believe that that may be true.
* * *
anakin, explaining the 600 dollar bottle of wine on the bill: it’s mr. kenobi’s birthday 👉👈
padme:
anakin: it’s his fiftieth birthday 🥺 👉👈
275 notes
·
View notes
Text
They were having a lovely cosy night. Some nonsense holodrama was on, the heater was blasting and Jedi Master and Time Traveller Plo Koon was idly scrolling through a pad contemplating a second glass of wine. From his own comfortable spot on the sofa next to him, his partner in time travel and Master of the Order Mace Windu sighed and shifted his feet of the caff table next to Plo’s own, not a moment before an alarm on his chrono went off.
Plo grunted questioningly at him, feeling uncharacteristically lazy and sleepy. The other man stretched as he stood up.
“Meeting with Cin about The Tournament” he mumbled back, gathering himself.
“Oh!”
Plo loved The Tournament. He’d missed it so much during the war, that first time round. The annual Coruscant Temple Sabre Tournament was something so special. Seeing aged Masters grumbling good naturedly trying to catch their breath, energetic young Knights teasing each other and Padawans gleefully egging each other on brought a sense of camaraderie and family that was lost forever once the war began.
“I’ll come with you” he decided, ignoring Mace’s surprised expression as he sat up with renewed vigour.
---
Plo tuned out as Mace and Cin Drallig, Battle Master extraordinaire, gestured at charts and catering costs on one of the benches in the corner of the main dojo. Neither seemed to mind his presence, Cin seemed unsurprised when they came as a pair.
While he left the boring logistics to the two senior Jedi he scrolled through the contenders list, comforted by the familiar names and intrigued by some interesting matches. It would be a lively affair.
He frowned, noticing something as he got to the Knights section.
Kab…
Kedib…
Kirin…
Krag…
He frowned further, checking the Senior Padawan section just in case.
Nope, not what he was looking for.
“Has Knight Kenobi not signed up for the tournament?” he asked loudly, interrupting the other two and not caring one bit. He got a pulse of mild irritation from Mace but interestingly, Cin simply let out a breath.
It wasn’t compulsory for every Jedi to take part in the tournament but there was certainly an obligation, particularly for Knights, to act as an example for their peers. To learn from each other and to inspire the next generation. It was just the Done Thing.
The Battle Master for the temple looked uncharacteristically perturbed.
“Kenobi…” he sat back and folded his thick arms, pausing, and Plo saw Mace’s face sharpen in stern worry.
“He’s been here… a lot, in the past few months. At funny times.” The scarred said, clearly picking his words carefully. “I’ve been helping him along, but most of the time I’m not here. I only see his name on the sign in sheet at all hours of the night.” He explained slowly.
Plo and Mace exchanged glances. That wasn’t good.
“Hmm. He didn’t sign up last year I assume, for obvious reasons” Mace asked with raised eyebrows.
Cin nodded.
“He’s changed his form since then, I’ve tried to ask him about it a couple of times but you know how he is.” He had a familiar look of exasperation on his face. Plo knew it well. When he didn’t want to, there wasn’t a force in the Galaxy that could make Obi-Wan Kenobi talk. Plo remembered it only got worse with age, to the infuriation of Sith across the galaxy that first time around.
Mace sighed and leaned back.
---
The Master of the Jedi Order cursed to himself under his breath and barely resisted the urge to grumble at nothing. He knew Obi-Wan somehow managed to function on dangerously little sleep (at all ages, apparently) but he himself had never managed to master the skill and his mood was as dark as the Courscant sky outside, at 3rd hour. Plo had offered to go, but Mace had a worrying suspicion it would end in a cuddle and a nap rather than what was necessary.
He was trying not to dwell on how suspicious he looked, loitering outside the main Dojo at this time of night, when his quarry came quietly and around the corner apparently deep in thought.
23-year-old Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi came to an abrupt and (rather comical) startled stop.
“Master!”
“Good evening, or should I say, good morning, Obi-Wan” Mace made no move to step away from the door to the dojo, but neither towards the young man in front of him.
“I…Hello there, Master. What…” the young man faltered, clearly still trying to find his footing. “What…are you doing here?” he asked cautiously.
Mace noted he definitely wasn’t at his best. Obviously not as well put together as he was in the daylight hours, there was none of the usual perceptive glint behind his eyes, his hair had obviously been pushed hurriedly into place and his robe was nowhere to be seen.
Mace shrugged.
“Shall we?” he gestured to the door behind him, entering the dojo.
Obi-Wan looked at the door dubiously before following.
“So.”
They stood in the vast hall, facing each other. Mace was very conscious they had both taken up sparring positions. So be it.
“So” he repeated calmly. “Do you want to tell me why you are practicing at this force-forsaken hour or shall I beat it out of you?” he asked politely with a smile, shifting his stance a little.
The young mans eyes narrowed.
“I don’t know what you mean Master, the Dojos are open all hours, surely encouraging practice at all hours” came the similarly polite answer.
Mace rolled his eyes.
“Fine.” He ignited his purple blade and assumed the opening stance of his favoured form, Vaapad.
“Come on then” he instructed the Knight. Obi-Wan’s eyes widened a little in surprise upon realising his mentor was serious, but then were filled with resolve as he too changed his stance.
And then immediately Mace Windu had the breath knocked out of his chest when, instead of the classic Ataru that he’d come to associate with the young Obi-Wan (indeed, the form he had become known for after using it to defeat Darth Maul) he was instead faced with the dramatic stance of Soresu.
He cursed himself, Cin had mentioned it but seeing it was something he had not been prepared for.
Lightsabre parallel to the floor and left arm extended with fingers pointing towards him, for a split second it wasn’t vulnerable, unsure Knight Kenobi Mace was seeing, it was the fearsome Master Kenobi. The Master of Soresu, and his comrade in arms. He’d seen that stance in the very worst of situations and every time it meant hope and determination.
“...Master?”
He was snapped back to the present by the slightly awkward prompt from the young man in front of him.
He grunted, trying to find his mental footing again.
“Not all of us are at our best at third hour young Obi-Wan” he grumbled, gratified when he got the ghost of a smile in response.
“Now then, let’s begin. And we will be speaking when I win” Mace warned, very clearly the Master of the Order.
Obi-Wan said nothing, his lips thinning as the match began.
---
The Master was gratified to see the young knight was panting a little as he yielded the match. Mace hadn’t won against Master Kenobi very often, in that first time around. It was good to know he still had some years left to enjoy it.
But not long, he noted. The young Knight was not there yet of course, but it he was good. Incredibly good for a Jedi of his level, using a difficult form. Mace was impressed.
“That was impressive. Very impressive Obi-Wan” he said, clapping him on the back as they both made to sit on the benches around the side of the dojo, Obi-Wan seemingly having lost the energy that fuelled his usual stubbornness, he allowed himself to be led by Mace.
“You’ve changed form.” the elder Jedi pointed out, cutting straight to the point. It was too early for beating around the munjabush.
“I have.” The young man beside him was looking at the floor as he answered. Mace felt the atmosphere in the room dip, the force tingling in his ears.
“Why?”
There was a pause. Obi-Wan kept looking at the floor.
Mace sighed.
“I hope you know, Obi-Wan, that you can tell me anything.” He said gently, projecting trust and safety at him through the force.
His young companion looked up at him with a watery smile. He took a breath.
“After Qui-Gon, after Naboo” he started slowly, seemingly choosing his words carefully “I kept trying…” he faltered, a faraway quality to his voice.
“Every time I started Ataru, I was back there behind the ray shields.” he said softly, looking down at the floor again. “After a bit of trial-and-error, it appeared to be a trigger for me, so I decided to change forms. Soresu seemed like a natural choice, I have a Padawan to defend now after all.”
Mace starred at him, finding himself once again at a loss. He knew Obi-Wan had changed forms at some point, but he’d never really given it much thought first. Lots of Knights experimented with new forms as soon as they were out of their Master’s shadow. But they generally didn’t do it incognito.
“Is that why you’ve been pushing yourself so hard? Coming here at all hours on top of everything else?” he asked, keeping his voice gentle.
His companion cleared his throat.
“It was difficult, at first. I didn’t…didn’t want anyone to know in case…” He trailed off.
Understanding dawned for Mace.
“In case you couldn’t do it.” He clarified, dismayed when he got a silent nod in return.
“Obi-Wan” Mace didn’t quite know what to say, working very hard to release his complicated emotions into the Force before the suddenly fragile man next to him picked up on them. Not least his slightly irrational anger.
“Please, please tell me you didn’t think we’d reject you or punish you because you couldn’t pick up a lightsabre.” He asked with a groan. The young man looked up at him in shock at the judgement in Mace’s tone. Giving him his answer.
“Er…”
Mace turned to him and shook his head in disbelief.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi, you are a talented, intelligent person who is an asset to the Order in more ways than I can list at this time in the morning. You are worth far more than your warrior skill” he took a breath, taking in the bewildered and slightly alarmed face next to him. “And I am sorry that that hasn’t been made clear to you.” He finished with a gentler tone, shame swelling slightly within him.
He felt a slight tug on his bond with Plo, the other Master picking up on the maelstrom he was feeling. They’d have to meditate later.
Obi-Wan obviously didn’t know what to say, and Mace was satisfied to let the words sink in for a moment.
“Do you think, perhaps, that it might be prudent for you to speak to someone about all this?” he suggested lightly. “We have an entire wing of Mind healers for a reason, my friend.”
Obi-Wan chewed his bottom lip, looking achingly young.
“I don’t know” he said slowly. “Qui-Gon never really liked…” he trailed off again, looking at the floor.
Mace rolled his eyes.
“Yes well, Force love him he was a good friend but Qui-Gon was a complicated man and let’s be honest, could be a bit of an idiot at times” he said, making sure his fondness for his old friend was obvious, pleased when it brought another watery smile out of his young friend.
“Maybe.” He admitted.
Mace decided to take what he could get.
“Please think about it. If you like, Plo or I could go with you” he offered. This time he did get a full smile and a slight eye roll in response.
“I’m sure I can handle it Master, I’m perfectly capable-“
“I know I know!” Mace held up his hands in defence “Just the offer is there.”
He stood up.
“Now then, time for bed I think” he activated his Senior Master mode, suddenly all business. “Please stop practicing at stupid hours of the morning, you’re making Master Drallig nervous. Sign yourself up for some proper tutoring” he instructed.
“Yes Master” Obi-Wan stood with a bow of acquiescence before they moved together towards the doors.
“Oh and Obi-Wan” Mace caught him as they closed the doors and stood in the silent corridor. “Do think about signing up for the tournament. You have a lot to offer.” He suggested.
The other Jedi hesitated.
“I…I will Master” he promised with a dip of his head.
“That’s all I ask” Mace reassured.
After they separated with one final bow of goodbye, Mace leant against the cool wall in relief, letting his emotions wash over him and into the Force, with the Force equivalent of a grunt from Plo down their bond.
He’d never known about Obi-Wan’s seemingly classic case of PTSD. And the obvious fear of rejection made his unrelenting quest for perfection and independence, that first time around, make sense.
But not this time. Mace smiled. They had a long way to go, but acknowledgement and mind healers were good, and Mace and Plo would be there every step of the way. This time.
#Space Dads Go Time Travelling#Mace Windu#Plo Koon#Obi-Wan Kenobi#Knight Kenobi#Family#Fluff#careful#Mentions of#PTSD#woops sorry this one got a bit long!
158 notes
·
View notes
Text
Imagine Anakin Skywalker proposes you.
Warnings: smut and fluff in a very alternative universe. This means no Vader here. Light reading.
Warnings 2: no minors.
Recommendations: “Just Like Heaven” by The Cure; “A Thousand Years” by Christina Perri.
***
When it all began…
It all starts with the day you find out you are having feelings for the great General Skywalker. To realize your attachment towards him crosses the field of a concern from one Jedi to another comes like a punch in your stomach.
In truth, the reason why such perception distresses you lies on your fear of feeling anything at all, particularly when he is nearby.
It takes every force of you to bury it. For your own sake—and because you know how besotted he is with that Senator whom you personally think unworthy of him, but oh well—you keep it to yourself.
So it’s Saturday and you have been released of your missions, though coming back from planet Y/C costed you good nights of sleep and a great deal of being scowled by Master Windu for your recklessness. Yet here you are, at the gardens, when you…feel him close.
Anakin has not been obnoxious to you, though. You ignore that his eyes have been following you more than often—-to the point where Ahsoka rolls her eyes everytime you are around and he is distracted—, that he’s been jealous of how you speak kindly to other men, or even so how annoying it is you cannot tell his fondness for you.
He is also a very observing man. That being said, he’s noticed your change of moods, he’s felt the nights you’ve been sleeping unwell, and what is more hurtful is that you don’t come for him to confide your fears like he does to you. Even though Anakin knows how you feel for him, he somewhat hopes you give the first steps.
So here he is. Leaning against the wall, his blue eyes are set on you, admiring the shades of y/c that color your hair, your y/c skin and the robes that reinforce your curves. Anakin holds back a sigh, and it is only when he comes closer that you joke:
“What’s up, Skywalker? What mischief are you up to today?”
“No big deal”, he lies down over the grass, not too far from where you are. Your eyes remain closed and he smirks at you. “Why are you assuming I am up to no good?”
You try to remain serious, but the moment he says that, your lips part in a smile.
“Because you are always annoying Obi-Wan. But since the corridors have been quiet, I’m assuming you are free today?”
Anakin rolls his eyes but he too smiles.
“Yes. For some odd reason everything is quiet. No trainings or missions. I came after you because for some reason that goes beyond my understanding you’ve been a little off these days.”
That observation makes you open your eyes and Anakin can tell that his remark is the reason why your heart starts beating faster. He tries to hold back a smile, even though presumption is behind his blue eyes.
So maybe there is hope.
“What are you talking about, Anakin? Don’t go assuming things.”
“Why, it’s true, though.” He shrugs his shoulders. “The other day when I asked you a favor regarding Senator Amidala, you told me you could not do it because you’ve been already assigned to another mission. And yet I found you playing cards with Fives. I mean… Really?”
For most things you have a sharp wit, but when it comes to Anakin or men in general, you are slow. You also take time to comprehend the meaning of their actions, once usually these can be ambiguous. Hence why you don’t understand why he’s acting so jealous.
“What? How one thing is related to the other? I did have another mission to which I was assigned, and, unlike you, I wasn’t flirting with Fives.”
“I wasn’t flirting with Fives either!”
You chew your bottom lip as he rolls in the grass laughing. And to worsen your case, you say:
“No, but you were flirting with Senator Amidala!”
Now rolling to your side, he is on his elbows staring at you with those bloody blue eyes and a damn smile that makes you melt inside.
“Was I?”
A faint shade of pink paints your cheeks, and however you try to look away from his intent stare, Maker knows you cannot.
“You know damn well that you were”, you narrow your eyes at him. “Why do you think this is so funny to you, Anakin Skywalker? If you want to break the rules and get yourself expelled, it is not my problem. As long as you don’t come lamenting after my ears how the Council never… Oh, please! Stop laughing!”
It is as if you are a teenager again, always being made fun of by him. Anakin had this terrible habit of teasing you until you got seriously irritated. Seeing he’s to the point where he’s about to succeed, Anakin softens and pulls you down back to the grass as you are about to stand and leave him there.
“What do you think you are doing?”, you ask in between giggles.
It’s when your gazes cross again.
“I was never smitten with Senator Amidala, silly head.” His smile spreads as your blush deepens. “It has always been about you. You, Y/N Y/LN. You alone.”
“Oh.”
He is now dangerously close to you. Part of him is over your body, transmitting you sensations before unknown. But you choose to ignore how his arms in each side of you ignore a spark in you.
“Oh indeed”, Anakin smiles warmly. “How could you think it was about her? She is married to Senator Clovis.”
“Is she?” You don’t dare to raise your eyes for fear they might give in too much.
But that’s what he wants. So he raises your chin and slowly moves his lips against yours.
“Yes. I fell in love with you, princess.”
Any resistance is inutile, so as your hands rest in his sides, dragging him over you, you smile as you correspond the kiss.
“As I did with you, Ani.”
***
‘A secret between us’
It’s been three months since Anakin last saw you. It drives him crazy how each has gone to a different mission. Because the relationship has been kept far from the Council’s knowledge, he couldn’t even ask for you.
And before he finds courage to ask Obi-Wan about your whereabouts, he is sent to planet Y/C to investigate the death of Master Dias. It takes further three months before you and him met again.
“You could have sent me a message, you know”, you tell him right as he comes for you. It’s late night and he is in your quarters. Both of you are exhausted, having arrived mere hours earlier. “I tried to send you, but I couldn’t.”
You barely finish with brushing your hair and you feel Anakin’s arms snaking behind you. You smile before turning around to hold him closer if possible. Your hands cup his cheeks, caressing each as you dive in those blue eyes.
“I know. God damn it, I was bloody preoccupied with you, my darling. Next time I will insist to go with you.”
“Yet Anakin, I detest to be the one to remind you that our relationship is a secret that must stay only between us”, you sigh. “They cannot raise any suspicious…”
“They will not. Leave this to me, all right?”
You rest your head against his chest, embraced by his arms before pulled to kiss his lips. Anakin’s fingers are tangled in your hair, his chin rested over your chin. You two stay like this for a while before going to bed.
“How did the mission go?”, you ask, cuddled against him, voice sleepy.
Anakin smiles at your efforts in struggling against exhaustion to hear about his mission.
“Sleep, angel. We will discuss this tomorrow.” Saying so, he presses a kiss over your forehead and you both fall asleep.
As the Jedis are closer to get to Count Dooku, eventually you and Anakin are assigned to a mission together. That is when you two cross the path of General Grievous.
“I will not let you expose yourself in danger, lass.” He tells you, rather baffled by the suggestions you are bringing to defeat the enemy.
“Oh, please Anakin. I’ve been doing that long way before we…”
“No, Y/N. I am not letting you…”
You smile now fades when seeing how serious. You narrow your eyes in turn.
“Oh yes, I am, Skyguy. I never asked you to be concerned about me in first place.”
And that is precisely the most inappropriate moment for you two get in your first argument.
***
Moonlight.
You miss him ardently. This time it burns your skin, it tortures your soul. You cannot simply accept to be by his side and sleep easily; it is not enough to wait every Friday and pray for the Jedi to be asleep as you tiptoe to his quarters and talk to him until sun rises—and you pay for it by drinking lots of coffee the day after.
He too hates how far away you are from him. He detests how paradise is unreachable for him every single time you are sent away, for it makes him feel an outcast. Anakin is anguished for not breathing your scent, not tasting your tongue pairing in so perfect a rhythm against his, not dwelling in your y/c eyes. His heart aches, his soul breaks when he doesn’t hear from you for weeks.
But today, the Jedi senses a strange urge from you before even landing to Coruscant. At first it distresses him—until he comes to discover the cause of it, he is genuinely concerned about you.
However, the moment he escapes to your quarters, every anxiety dies. Engulfed in your arms, Anakin relaxes and tightens his grip around you.
“Fuck, how I’ve missed you, princess”, he mumbles, kissing your cheek and your neck, there staying, breathing the smell of roses.
“Ani”, you sigh in deep content. “What took you so long?”
“I have great news to share”, he tells you, parting the embrace so he can look at you.
Your hair is lose and you are dressing a blue nightgown with white robes partly open. Anakin cannot help but notice the swell of your breasts, seeing your nipples through the silk. He swallows hard, forcing himself to concentrate as you wait with exciting eyes.
He takes your hand and locks with his before taking a seat at the edge of your bed.
“What is it?”, you ask him, sounding louder than you’d like.
“Good news await us. Count Dooku is defeated and so the plan to knock down the Republic has been discovered.”
You raise a hand over your mouth, shock stamped in your features.
“Holy Maker, Ani! So does this mean we found out who the Sith Lord is? And what his intentions are?”
Anakin flashes a smirk, but by this time his mind has already left the main point behind.
“Can we please discuss this later? I miss my girlfriend.”
You blush lightly.
“Why, please. I’ve missed you too, Anakin.” As you dwell in those blue eyes, you feel your heart lighter and every disturbance that sparks in your body disappears. “Maker knows how much.”
Before he reads well into you, you put your arms around his neck and lean to kiss his lips. What starts as a make up session begins to evolve to something more.
“I don’t think you know how much you mean to me”, you tell him, letting your hands play with his curls before slipping to his cheek.
As his hands move to your shoulders, promptly removing your robes before rubbing your arms delicately as if you are a fragile thing, Anakin bites your bottom lip and says:
“I cannot live apart of you, Y/N. You are mine.”
You shiver at how possessive his words sound to your ears, it turns you on.
“Please, show me how”, you beg him, sensing his smirk against yours.
“So this is what has been troubling my princess?”, he asks you, now parting the kiss to look into your eyes only to find out how needy you are by getting lost in them. Holding your chin, Anakin senses the power you delegate to him. “Tell me, love, you’ve been burning, haven’t you?”
Anakin moves further to your bed. He opens lightly the curtains of a widow so the moonlight helps illuminate your quarters in an old fashion way.
All the whilst, he makes you sit in his lap, your legs wrapped around his waist before he slowly rests his hands over your thighs, moving them to remove your nightgown and tossing aside.
“Fuck”, he curses lightly. Instead of feeling shy, you feel yourself wet under his intent gaze. “You are gorgeous, angel. So beautiful. So ethereal.”
Beneath his words, a spark that ignites a fire. You pursuit his lips, famine for his touch, starving for his affection. Anakin smiles when feeling all of the sentiments you’ve been trying to placate…rather unsuccessfully.
He then flips you carefully, going on top of you just after your desperate hands toss away his clothing.
“Looks like you got me on fire”, you whisper, parting your lips as you moan when he starts to get intimate with you.
“We are burning together tonight, my love. I promise you”, he kisses your neck, slipping his tongue in one trace to your full chests. Anakin devours each nipple, holding you against him in such a dominate manner that you can only plead for more.
And he slowly complies to your demands, though he tortures you with his fingers…and then with his mouth, eyeing you as he eats you out. Yet, when you are about to come undone, he goes back to you, shushing your protests with a fiery, passionate kiss.
“Love me”, you beg him.
Because he knows of your needs, tonight is your night—as much as you try to please him too, he wants to make this night a very special one.
“I love you”, he whispers as he locks hands with you.
When your eyes meet and your bodies lock, your souls speak. It’s all perfectly synced.
***
The proposal.
By waking up by your side is the moment Anakin realizes he is no longer content with this secretive relationship of yours. He wants more. It’s when he decides to make you the future Mrs Skywalker. One question remains, though: how?
As you open your eyes and find yourself cuddled against him, smelling his scent, a mix of sweat and his typical perfume, you know there is no better place to he than in his arms. Ignoring his thoughts, you are somewhat inspired when you lean into him and say:
“I would run away with you. Anywhere you want to go, I will be with you.”
When looking into your eyes, this inspiration finds home in his heart as well. But Anakin needs to hold back his impulsivity or he’d might be accused of lacking sensitivity.
“Maker knows I cannot love any other creature that is not you, Y/N.”
There is so much to be said, but for some reason there is no need to let unspoken words reach each other’s tongues. Not only because in one gaze they could see reflected in their eyes the love one feels for the other, but also the abrupt knock on the door that scares you both, a reminder that there is life beyond bed—and the kind that requests your relationship to remain a secret.
It is tiresome to hid. To pretend that neither is too intimate with the other, to ignore the sparks of jealousy that rises in both hearts and minds, to act cooly before certain situations.
As when for example the day you confronted Darth Maul, defeating him in the process and earning some battle scars that almost freaked Anakin out.
“Babe, I told you not to chase that vile being”, he scolded you then. “You could have contacted me.”
“What for? We’ve been there before, Anakin, and I told you a million times that I can do things by myself, thank you very much.”
But these arguments, endless and repetitive as they were, usually ended in bed so both of you knew how to amend it pretty well.
However, you stood in his shoes when Anakin faced the Sith Lord in person. Although this was an occasion that feared you more than you’d care to admit, you were baffled—as well as many others—that he proved to be the chosen one by defeating Chancellor Palpatine once and for all.
“And you call me stubborn”, you told him, shaking your head in disapproval.
Anakin chuckled as you glared at him. Kisses and sweet words were enough to knock your defenses down, although you were not entirely the one to blame for worrying too much.
So now here you are. Amidst celebrations, Anakin doesn’t appreciate the attention earned. For someone so proud, this only seems to separate him from you. Hence why he sees an opportunity—one he has been planning for a while—to elope with you.
You are in the middle of a conversation to Ahsoka—and today you are very elegant, dressing your best dress and wearing a good make up, wanting to feel beautiful for him—when Anakin shows up.
“Excuse me, ladies. General Y/LN, may I have a word with you?”
Although you try to disguise the amusement in your eyes, every effort you and Anakin pay in omitting the true nature of your relationship goes to nothing because Ahsoka, rolling her eyes and resting a hand in her waist, says:
“Really now? Are we all going to play pretend I’m dumb? Skyguy and Y/Nickname, I know that you are…”
“Shhhhh”, you and Anakin say at the same time, with you putting your hands over her mouth.
“Be discreet, Ahsoka”, you whisper, letting her go after ensuring she is not acting otherwise. “Please.”
“I should have not underestimated your observation”, Anakin sighs. “An adolescent like yourself should be paying attention to interests concerning your age, though.”
“Oh please, Skyguy. This is a huge insult to my intelligence. You are barely trying to be discreet. Anyone can tell you and Y/N are together, though judging by others faces in this room, they either pretend not to see what’s crystal clear or they are just blind.”
Anakin and you exchange disconcerted glances, but you try to intervene by appeasing the situation.
“Can we trust in you to keep this low for a while? Come now, Soka. You know how much you mean to us.”
It works. Ahsoka looks at you with other eyes: in fact, she’d always perceived you as a maternal figure, a role you’ve taken to yourself in the e years she’d been under Anakin’s wig knowing her difficulties with other aspects within the Order she struggled with.
“Very well”, she feels proud of herself for the responsibility delegate to her. “You will not be disappointed.”
Anakin rolls his eyes, but you smile at her and press her forehead a kiss.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
As you go after Anakin, you say:
“What’s with this rush to leave? I thought you’d enjoy to be in the center of attention.”
Once you are in the ship, Anakin flashes you a smirk and says:
“Oh, dear. I couldn’t care less about these boring ceremonies. Now, I think we should enjoy ourselves away from these pompous people. I have a better place to take you to, where I think you’ll love.” He smiles at you before turning the ship on: “Love, this is where the fun begins.”
And that is how he takes you to planet Y/C. Once getting there, you are perplexed by the landscape that draws right under your gaze: a mix of colors that brightens the horizon, brown hills peppered with pink trees—one of the kind you’ve never seen before—amidst small lakes that reinforce a delicately aesthetic.
“It’s so peaceful here, isn’t it?”, Anakin tells you, eyes glued at the expressions your face transmits.
“It is, Ani. Where are you taking me? How’d you know this place?”, you ask him.
He leads you now to the beach. There, Anakin watches with a smile on his lips how you are charmed by the wild nature. That should be the nest of your love, that only grows each day, so he decides.
“I came here only once in that mission concerning Ventress. I always wanted an opportunity to come back, and looks like I have one.”
He pauses, waiting for you to absorb what he is telling you. You take a while to understand, your eyes focused in the purple that paints that ocean, making the scenario so unique and colorful. Never before you felt such a peace.
But when your fingers are locked with his, you slowly comprehend the reason of his subtle getaway from a prestigious ceremony that was praising his great deeds.
“Anakin… What are you saying?”
“For a very long time I’ve been silenced, but I will not tolerate this anymore”, he smiles at you, delighting at your slow discovery. “Allow me to tell you how much I love you, how I cannot spend any more time without you by my side. You are such a precious gift from heavens that I fear to waste away if I don’t…”
He chokes a little with words, thrilled as much as you are.
“Anakin… Ani! Oh, Ani!”, before you can help yourself, your eyes are blurried by tears and you start weeping.
On his knees, he takes a velvet box and opens it right before you.
“I hope these are tears of joy…”, Anakin starts nervously.
You giggle.
“Of course they are!”
“Good”, he clears his throat. “Y/N Y/LN, will you give me the honor of becoming Mrs Skywalker for the rest of your life…?”
He barely finishes the proposal when you throw your arms around his neck.
“Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!”
Anakin beams and so do you. Just after you share a kiss and he places a ring on your finger, he says:
“I’m very happy for choosing the perfect scenario, but can we go elsewhere? I hate sand.”
You laugh and so does he. Locking your arms with his, you say:
“Anywhere with you, Anakin, is going home to me.”
And that is the happiest day of your lives…
***
Epilogue.
…that is until the day you two get married, of course.
It happens in a private ceremony with only C3-P0 and R2-D2 as witnesses. Your hair drops loose in your waist and you wear a traditional white gown you’ve purchased of the planet you came from.
A priest awaits and in front of him, is Anakin. You admire him with eyes already puddled by tears. Your heart skips a bear when setting your gaze upon the man you love with your entire being. He is so handsome with those robes, curly hair dropping over his shoulder—certainly longer than last time—reinforcing an angelical physique that makes you swoon.
“Y/N”, he calls your name as he stands his hand to take yours. As you do so, Anakin, whose eyes are all over you, smiles excitedly. “We are starting a new life now.”
And by saying so, a hand rests upon your stomach.
“How’d you know…?”, you laugh quietly, surprised he noticed before you.
“I know my wife”, Anakin whispers into your ear, pleased to make you blush.
The priest clears his throat, it’s time. As he finally begins, you and him cannot look away from each other. Vows are professed and you are now Mrs Skywalker.
A brighter future awaits for you both, sealed in the form of a kiss…
#star wars#star wars imagine#imagine star wars#anakin skywalker#anakin skywalker x y/n#anakin skywalker x you#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker smut#Hayden Christensen
541 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
ck2k18
totally spiderman
bestrappersofalltime-blog
Karma is a bitch,make sure that bitch is beautiful
lastofthepencilpushers
LastOfThePencilPushers
iron-philanthropist
He's flawless and he knows it
evodude1769
Untitled