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#obi wan x y/n
demigoddessqueens · 2 years
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You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you
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You can tell the animation department spent extra time on him 😍
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madeinnaboo · 11 months
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theirs | anakin skywalker, obi wan kenobi
requests are open!:)
words: 1.7k
warnings: soft dom! Obi Wan, hard dom! Anakin, unprotected sex, p in v, creamp!e, punishment, names, corruption kink, use of the force, heavy(?)
,,I hope I don't get you into too much trouble`` Your friend says as she opens the door into her room. You smile at her and fix your ponytail.
,,Of course not; I'll see you tomorrow?`` You were actually in so much trouble, and just thinking about your Masters made you anxious.
,,Yes ma`am`` Your friend saluted you, and you laughed at her before giving her a goodbye hug. After the door closed behind her, you took a deep breath and started walking towards the left wing, where your room was.
You lied about where you were going. Your friend really wanted to visit a planet that held some sort of race. That obviously meant you had to fly there, and that was strictly prohibited for you. Her master allowed her to travel wherever she wanted, and you were super jealous of her freedom. So naturally, you lied and said the two of you would just hang out around the temple. Your lie would work out if only you weren't almost 6 hours late. Something happened to your ship, and it took ages for your friend to fix it up. She didn't know about all the strict rules you had to follow, so she wasn't worried about being late.
After some time, you finally arrived to your room, and before you even got the chance to open the door, it flew open, revealing a tall figure. You looked up at him with fear in your eyes. Anakin's eyes were glowing with anger, and you had to manually breathe because it felt like you forgot how to. His hand wrapped around your arm and forced you into the room before closing the door behind you. Obi Wan was sitting on your bed with his head in his hands. When he heard the door close, he looked up and then quickly walked towards you. His hands grabbed your face, and you closed your eyes.
,,Are you okay, my love? Where were you? We were so worried`` He said, and you felt a stinging pain inside your stomach. You felt so bad; you genuinely wished something bad had happened to you.
,,I'm okay, we- we just forgot about the time. I'm so sorry`` You said when you opened your eyes and looked at the man in front of you. A scoff from the other man forced your attention to him.
,,That's interesting, because what I heard was that you and your friend made a little trip`` Anakin spoke with a mean voice, and you felt Obi Wan'shands slowly leave your face.
,,Is that true y/n?`` Obi asked with a surprised voice, and you looked at him with even sadder eyes. You opened your mouth to say something, but when nothing came out, Obi nodded his head in disappointment and took a step back.
,,Remove your clothes and get on your fours`` Anakin said as he started removing his robes.
,,Master-`` You tried to speak but were quickly stopped by an invisible hand squeezing your throat. Obi tilted his head, ready to stop Anakin from using the force if it got too much.
,,Im done with your shit y/n`` Anakin spoke as the force left your neck and walked over to you. His hand untied your robes and helped them fall from your body, leaving you only in your panties. You immediately felt seen and just wanted to hide in one of their arms. You hated when they were upset with you. A tear escaped your eye, and Anakin chuckled before wiping it off with his long finger.
"Don't you even think that crying will get you out of this`` He said before grabbing you by your arm and shoving you onto the bed.
,,Anakin...`` Obi said warningly. They both stared at each other for some time before Anakin shifted his focus back on you. You got on all fours at the end of the bed. Anakin walked to you and gave your exposed ass a harsh slap before grabbing your panties and pulling them off. You placed your upper body on the soft mattress, arching your back like that because you knew he liked it. You felt another much larger hand on your head as its fingers gently stroked your hair. You shifted your head so you could look at the older man. He was still very disappointed with you, but he cared. He then sat down on a small couch that you had near your bed, so he could watch you get fucked.
Anakin's left arm grabbed your hip, guiding you onto his cock. There was no foreplay, but all this made you wet enough to take him. You felt his tip in between your folds before he harshly slammed his hips towards you. His cock almost split you open. You moved your head and hid it in the fluffy blanket. A loud moan escaped your lips as you tried to get away from him, but his strong arms didn't allow you to do so.
,,Anakin, move her head so I can see her face`` Obi Wan spoke with a deeper voice, and soon you felt a sharp pain on your scalp as Anakin forced your head to face Obi Wan again. You opened your eyes to look at him. His legs were parted and he was slowly stroking his cock. You whined at the sight of his red tip. Anakin pulled his cock from you before slamming it back again, making you roll your eyes. Each thrust was followed by pain. He clearly didn't care about how you felt at the moment. His fingers were painfully digging into your skin, making sure to leave deep blue marks. His body was moving at an almost animalistic speed, filling you up with his cock so nicely.
You forced your eyes open so you could look at your other master. Your eyes were filled with tears, and loud moans were escaping your lips. Obi Wan tried his best not to cum just yet.
,,Such a fucking whore`` Anakin said through his teeth, and you bit down on your lower lip.
,,Yes master`` You did your best to say. He let out a loud growl before his thrusts became sloppy. Soon you felt his cock twitch, and after a few more thrusts, you felt him cum deep inside you. His forehead was sweaty, and he had to focus on his breathing. He stayed in you for a moment before quickly leaving your body, making you cry out. His eyes watched as his cum slowly spilled out of your abused pussy. Then he grabbed his robes and exchanged places with Obi Wan.
Obi just lowered his loose pants before tapping on your hip, making you change the position you were in. You laid on your back and opened your legs for him. His hands grabbed your thighs and pushed you closer to him before putting them on his shoulder. When your legs were secured, he grabbed his cock and guided it to your hole, which was already filled with Anakin`s cum.
He pushed his tip inside of you, making you whine in pleasure. His hands went back to your thighs, gently squeezing them before fully pushing himself inside of you. You arched your back and grabbed the blanket. His hips were moving way slower than Anakin's, but he still made sure that you knew this was a punishment.
With every passing second, you felt your brain getting mushier and mushier. Soon you weren't able to keep your eyes open, and your lips were open in a silent moan.
"Don't you even dare to cum`` Anakin's voice cut through the room, and you furrowed your brows in disagreement, which caused Obi Wan to warningly slap your thigh.
You weren't sure how long it took before Obi Wan's moans joined yours and his cum mixed with Anakins.
You barely felt him leave your body or even lower your legs. Anakin got up and headed to the door.
,,Anakin,  she's your responsibility`` Obi Wan said as he tied his pants, making the younger Jedi stop. He looked down at you. It was true. You were Anakin's responsibility since he was your true Master.
,,She knows she doesn't deserve my care`` He said and you pouted your lips. Obi Wan sighed when he left the room.
,, Come here`` He said as he reached out to grab you in his arms before helping you to your bathroom. He sat you down on the cold marble bathtub. You felt like you could pass out at any time, so you rested your back against the cold tiles.
Obi Wan grabbed a cloth and put it under warm water before kneeling down in front of your naked body. He gently parted your legs and started cleaning your inner thighs. When his knuckle touched your swollen clit by accident, your body shot to his face. He looked up at you before placing the cloth next to you. He brought his index finger to your clit and drew small circles on it. You swore you could see stars. You opened your legs for him and prayed to all the gods that he wouldn't stop. And he didn't. Just like that, within a few seconds, he brought you to your orgasm, which hit you hard. Your legs started to shake, and he had to grab your body so you wouldn't fall.
When he was sure you were done, he pushed two of his fingers deep inside of you, making you whine in discomfort. He then brought his two fingers covered in his, Anakins', and your cum to your lips, and you happily licked them clean.
Then he just cleaned the rest of your body and helped you to your bed. You thanked him with a kiss on his lips, and he wrapped his arm around your waist, deepening the kiss.
,,Please don't do this again. I was really worried`` He whispered to your abused lips, and you quickly nodded.
,,I am sorry, Master`` You said as you sat down on your bed, and with a nod, he left your room.
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demonwoman · 7 months
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broken attachments chapter 1
summary: set (mostly) in canon with the star wars prequels and og trilogy, you are a young force-sensitive individual that grows up overlooked, and unseen in jedi society. but your relationships to your master(s) and colleagues will cement your story as one of great strength, love, and pain.
characters mentioned: plo koon, yaddle, qui-gon jinn, obi-wan kenobi, anakin skywalker
wc: 2.4k // pairings: obi wan x reader, anakin x reader
cw: slow burn. angst. eventual smut and mild romance. female/afab reader, but no descriptions of body type or species beyond that. pretty big age gaps. slight misogyny lean - the jedi council is sexist and i stand by that. reader has parents and two baby siblings in the beginning and is a kid in this chapter!!! the relationship she's developing with obi wan and qui gon are completely age appropriate
important note: reader is 7 years older than anakin, 12 years older than ahsoka, 2 years older than padme, and 9 years younger than obi wan
a/n: i guess i'm writing star wars fanfic now. i basically planned the whole thing, this "chapter" is purely setup for how the reader fits in the canon timeline. but canon star wars timelines are shit, so i apologize if the math doesn't math correctly. i couldn't decide if i was going to do this as star wars x oc, or star wars x reader insert so who knows, this could get re-written later as oc fanfic. for now it's a reader insert
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Prologue
The Order found you when you were eight years old. You were entertaining your siblings with their favorite trick, floating small colored rocks in a circle around them so they could try and grab it with their chubby, toddler hands. But your parents had kept quiet about your sensitivity to the Force, because they were reluctant to give you up to the Jedi. A Kel Dor in dark robes and layers of beige came up to you just outside of your home, introduced himself as Plo Koon, and promised to teach you to hone those skills so you could lift things heavier than a few pebbles.
How could you say no? The promise of power was alluring to any child, and you were enamored with his small, but mighty displays of the Force as he levitated your sibling just out of your grip. 
When your parents ran outside and tried to shoo away the stranger, you tilted your head like an inquisitive animal. Your baby siblings were cooing and drooling over their fists, trying to eat the rocks which you gently pried from their hands. You jumped up, and held your baby brother in your arms, cradling him as the tall man began to reassure your parents that he was not a threat. You could sense your parent’s apprehension, but as Plo continued to converse, the feeling of tension rolled away. As soon as your brother began to fall asleep on your shoulders, Plo turned to you. 
“Are you able to leave now?” 
“Now?” Your eyes shifted over to your parents, as your mother’s eyes began to shine with fresh tears. She refused to sniffle, but the sadness radiating from her was clear. 
“Yes.”
“Will I see mommy and daddy again?” Your voice quavered, as the reality began to set in. 
“The Jedi forbid attachments in any form.” Plo answered honestly, which jarred you. “However, I will permit you to say goodbye to your family if you choose.” 
How could you say yes? The decision was too heavy for any child to make. However, the current politics of your home planet worried your parents, and a heavy presence of rogue groups made them reconsider their earlier reluctance. At the time, giving their eldest child to the Jedi seemed to be safer than letting her be discovered by a group of morally dubious, or even evil Force-users. 
You hugged your parents and siblings, who were too young to understand the permanence of your leaving. Your mother’s sadness quietly overwhelmed your soul, and your father’s tight hug physically overwhelmed your body. But you let go, and allowed the will of the Jedi Order to take over your being. You felt a wave of peace come over your body, as Plo touched your shoulders with his hands, perhaps as a gesture of comfort. 
It was a core memory for you - the memory of waving goodbye to your home planet, the memory of your baby siblings crying in your parent’s arms as they waved goodbye. Master Koon helped you pack your bag, as you held his hand tightly. You never cried, and you never protested as he walked over and guided you to the passenger ship that would deliver you to the Central Temple on Coruscant. 
But you never verbally agreed to joining the Order, however. At least not that you could remember. 
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Episode 1: The Overlooked Youngling
A year later…
You were tumbling around, giggling and playing with the other younglings in the Temple. You had played what you thought was a hilarious practical joke on Yaddle, one that in hindsight, she allowed you to “get away with.” Levitating a cup of liquids was the lesson, and you managed to complete your task first, and it came as no surprise when you tried to splash the fluids in your cup in Yaddle’s general direction. But the other younglings loved it, as you were being tossed around with the Force playfully by her, before being dropped unceremoniously. Quick as ever though, you managed to land on your feet, swinging your arms to balance yourself. There was a slight twinkle in her eye as she reprimanded you for disobeying orders, but no real punishment was enacted. 
Brushing off your uniform, you and your friend Aayla frolicked through the halls of the Temple, saying hi to the Jedi you recognized. All of them smiled courteously at you, some even stopping to wave back as you two were holding hands and running around. Your olive-skinned Twi’lek companion was a few years older, and taller than you, so her running pace outmatched yours by a fair bit. Struggling to keep up, your legs were working overtime, and you weren’t paying attention to where you were running, so before you could react, a pair of much taller men appeared in your field of vision just too late. 
Barreling straight into the shorter one, you let out a loud “oomf!” as the two of you collided. He seemed just as surprised as you, but the force of your body did not knock him over. Having learned from Yaddle’s previous lessons, you flipped over somewhat gracefully for a 9-year-old, and landed with your knees bent, feet solidly planted on the ground. Better than last time, you thought. You peered over, to see Aayla hiding behind a marble column - unwilling to take the blame for what happened. 
“I-I’m sorry, Master…?” Your voice trailed off, as you stood up fully to meet the gaze of the taller man. Long, brown hair and kind features weathered with age, a body dressed in robes similar to the first Jedi Master you had met. 
“Uhh…Master…umm..” You struggled to come up with a name, because you had never seen him before. Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment as you realized this was a completely new face. Sensing your oncoming shame, he filled in the blanks for you. 
“Qui-Gon Jinn.” He chuckled, ruffling your hair the same way Plo did. You had latched onto Plo early on in your training, but he was rather distant, so your initial warmth to him faded with time. He was merely the Jedi who found you, he had no interest in acting as a parental figure beyond that. You repeated his name, slowly saying the syllables until you could pronounce it with the best attempt a child could. 
“What’s your name?” Qui-Gon asked. You responded obediently with your name, an abrupt change in tone to your mischievous nature earlier. The younger one frowned at you, but said nothing. 
“This is my Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi.” He gestured to the man who you made first contact with. His face was much more stern, but you could see the little Padawan braid tucked behind his ear, contrasting with his short, lighter-colored hair. “I believe you owe him an apology for bumping into him.” 
“O-Oh! Of course!” You bowed respectfully, hands clapped to your sides as your head tipped down. “I’m sorry Obi-Wan. It won’t happen again.” A few seconds passed, as you made note of his scuffed boots, your eyes flickering up to him. The intense stare was too much for you, though. You caught Aayla’s twin tails peeking out from the same column from earlier, and made a mad dash to reunite with her. 
“You should be more approachable, my Padawan.” Qui-Gon brushed the upper arms of his robes, before resuming his walk. 
“Why is that? She’s the one who bumped into me.” Obi-Wan scoffed, hands in his pockets. 
“She’s just a child. But quite the enigmatic one. Not many younglings have the coordination she has.” The Master Jedi observed. “You shuffled your feet unevenly from the impact. She landed quite firmly, despite it being her mistake.” 
“I fail to see how this feedback is relevant.” Obi-Wan’s jaw clenched, as he recalled the clumsiness of his earlier actions. 
“You were a youngling too, not too long ago.” Qui-Gon’s obvious statement led Obi-Wan to let out a sigh. “It’s important that we let the children be children. Many of them come from broken homes, and it is always best to be patient and kind with them.” 
“I see.” Obi-Wan sighed, twirling his braid unconsciously. 
“After hearing her name though, I’m surprised to have met her. She shares a connection with you, if you can believe it.” He stroked his beard in further thought, prompting his apprentice to question further. 
“I remember seeing her name in the databases. Master Koon found her quite late, similar to you. But she’s progressing quite fast, from what I’ve heard from the teachers. You may run into her again sooner than you think.” Qui-Gon’s pace halted, as he turned to face his Padawan. 
“But she’s just a kid.” Obi-Wan’s comment was laced with irritation. 
“Do you doubt me, Kenobi?” Qui-Gon asked with no hesitation. 
“I do not, Master.” 
“Good.” 
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Episode 2: The Unofficial Padawan
Qui-Gon’s prediction manifested itself in only a few months, as you continued to train under the Temple. The Council had determined you worthy of Padawan status at age 10, but unfortunately, they could not find a Master that did not already have a Padawan, and you knew the rules. One Master, one apprentice. You cried quietly in your room alone, when the news was broken to you. 
The best that the Council could offer was that you tag along with a Master that was willing to care for you, and teach you the ways of the Force. You would not take the Initiate Trials, you were forbidden to grow a braid or signify that you were in any way related to the Master you were studying under. They were forcibly stunting you, and you knew it. 
But the only one who was willing to take you under was none other than Qui-Gon himself. The bright and cheery-eyed 9-year-old you used to be, morphed into a sullen and serious 10 to 11-year old. Qui-Gon taught you well, making use of the time you had with him by focusing on your meditation skills and basic combat, without the use of a lightsaber. But you were forced to only observe the lessons between him and Obi-Wan, unable to participate. It was maddening, but Qui-Gon emphasized patience and strength in your mental training to “compensate” for the lack of physical work. 
There were moments where your meditation skills surpassed Obi-Wan’s. You were no match for him strength and speed-wise, so you dedicated all of your energy into interpreting Force visions and learning the diplomacy behind what it took to be a peace keeper. Qui-Gon allowed the two of you to spar sometimes, but he would mainly ask you to act as a “training dummy” for Obi-Wan, testing his defensive saber skills while you shot at him with a blaster set to stun. You never apologized for successfully hitting him three times with the stun bullets, by the way. He knew you were getting the short end of the stick, and it helped him if you were channeling your annoyance into making yourself a legitimate challenge to him. 
You recalled one of the many conversations you had with Obi-Wan, while you two were away accompanying some Jedi Knights on a diplomatic trip to Naboo. 
“Are you jealous?” He asked, nudging your arm. 
“Of what, you? No.” You scoffed. “Qui-Gon’s teachings are enough for me.”
“I know you’re lying, ___. I’ve seen the way you stare at our combat training. I know you want to join in.” He tried to act in what he felt was sincerity, but it just wasn’t the right time for you. 
“So? There’s nothing I can do about it. I have no Master. I won’t truly progress without one, and the Council has yet to tell me that there’s a teacher out there willing to take me.” You shut the book you had been reading in your hands, and tossed it at him. “You should read up on your Naboo public relations, by the way. Stop relying on me to fill you in on all of the diplomatic policies.” 
Obi-Wan caught the book without looking, and remained quiet for a beat or two. “I could be your Master.” He mumbled. 
“You?” You balked, feeling a wave of heat creep up your neck. “Why you?” 
His cheeks flushed, but he cleared his throat. “The Council likes me, so they’ll probably knight me soon. Once I become a Knight, I can take on a Padawan. And I’d like to train you.” 
“Oh yeah? And why would I wait around for that?” You crossed your arms, feeling the ship start its landing sequence. 
“I would hope that you find a Master willing to take you before I get knighted, ___. But if this continues, I am willing to teach you. I can teach you everything Qui-Gon’s taught me, and we can learn together.” 
“Is that a promise?” You asked, making direct eye contact with him. There was no malice in your tone, no sarcasm. Just the shadow of a quiet girl asking for validation. 
Obi-Wan did not respond verbally, as one of the Knights asked for you to line up behind him. Your head was turned around so you did not see it, but he nodded in response. 
So you stayed within the Order’s limits. As the years passed, your public persona evolved considerably from the excitable and happy youngling, to the “Jedi trainee” that was perhaps too wise for your years. Wise, patient, and kind were all terms thrown around to describe you. Qui-Gon continued to train you the best he could, under the restrictions provided. What you lacked in training, he made up for by spending more time with you, reassuring you that he was your caretaker. And you felt it, you felt the genuine love and warmth he had for you, one that differed from the relationship he had with Obi-Wan. He treated you more like a daughter than anything else. But it did not adequately replace the feeling you craved, of having a real mentor that was yours and yours alone. 
It did not lessen the pain of being alone. 
So when you were sixteen, and the news broke of Qui-Gon’s untimely death on Naboo, you were numb. You were developing a blanket of apathy towards the institution you had grown up in, and the wave of grief you weren’t allowed to feel made that blanket reach your heart. But a spark of hope popped up, as you remembered Obi-Wan had said to you many moons ago. 
That spark of hope fizzled out immediately when you met a 9-year-old Tatooine brat by the name of Anakin Skywalker, and watched the Council appoint him as Obi-Wan’s sole Padawan. 
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taglist: @public-safety-network @strawberrystepmom @medusashima idk any other mutuals that watch star wars lol
dividers by @saradika
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Hello! Could I request an obi wan x reader x anakin fic where the reader is a force sensitive Jedi? They have to go undercover for a mission and ani and obi are awestruck/distracted by reader in flattering clothes (that aren’t Jedi robes) and it makes them both realize their feelings :) feel free to make it a lemon if you want
Little Red Dress
Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader x Anakin Skywalker
Warnings: Jealousy, Reader in Alluring Clothing, Brothel Setting, Some Life-Threatening Danger, Light Violence, Creepy(ish) Fella, Soft Smut (Minors DNI), all characters are over 18, Anakin Threatening Murder TM (why am I even surprised 😂), light banter, fluff, alcohol is around, boys being worried, HEAVY FLIRTING.
Song Inspo: Red Dress — MAGIC!
A/n: This took me way too long to get to lol 💀 Absolutely love this request idea which made it so fun to write. Wasn’t sure which gender you wanted for the reader so I made them female-identifying. This is my first request and short (lol) fic so please let me know your thoughts! Hope you enjoy :)
Words: 8.1k
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She was built like a dream — Joseph Heller
Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker were… uncomfortable.
Not because Master Yoda himself had tasked the three of you with this urgent mission to the Outer Rim. Nor was it due to the cloudy, dark, and incessantly rainy atmosphere that was Morlana One’s Leisure Zone— its backstreets dotted by the occasional lifeless streetlight that just barely reflected off the puddles below, paving the two Jedi a glimmering path toward the local brothel.
No. It wasn’t any of that at all.
Instead, they felt a foreign existence within their own bodies, with each nearing step toward the club’s shadowy entrance, on account of the perplexing, and frankly alien, wears that sheened their limbs.
Of course, they never had any styling choice in the matter. Not for an assignment like this, where the elimination of Jedi symbols was expected.
Because this was a mission that required a gentler, more covert hand.
Because this was a mission that had you all undercover.
Nearly 72 hours ago, unknown assailants had broken into one of the Jedi Temple’s artifact rooms. From the emergency cache, they’d stolen seven Kyber crystals, which were always held at the ready in case a Jedi needed a temporary saber after damaging or misplacing their own.
A facility Anakin took advantage of too many times to count.
But, on this occasion, the Order could only count themselves lucky that The Chosen One had again somehow lost his lightsaber during a short mission to the Coruscant Underworld, requiring him to report to that very same artifacts chamber for a replacement before he could continue his search down into the planet’s murky depths. By chance, the chestnut-haired Jedi had arrived just in time to witness that the usually locked, ornate wooden door was notably ajar. And, with further investigation, that the krystals’ storage chest had been ransacked.
With Council Member Master Kenobi assigned to the inquiry, he quickly learned from a few trustworthy sources, including his old friend Dex, that the crystals were flown off-world to be sold at auction. To a seedy establishment in the Morlani System, no less. All with an undetectability and swiftness that duped not only the inter-District and planetary departure security systems, but the Jedi Temple’s once-thought-impregnable apparatus as well.
Evidently, Master Yoda had found that this operation met a sophistication not often seen among the ranks of disparate pirates or common thieves. It was why, after Kenobi came to him with this information, the Grand Master decided that the bearded man and Jedi Knight who discovered the robbery would be assigned to retrieve these precious artifacts. Placing an emphasis on the need to arrive undercover, lest this sordid enterprise catch wind of a group of creeping, saber-wielding Jedi.
They just couldn’t risk it.
Any action like that would certainly force this gang to race underground once again, crystals in tow, before the Jedi had a chance to recover them.
So, the Council supplied Obi-Wan and Anakin with clothes of the region’s elite, aiming to disguise them both as potential buyers.
Kenobi, a black dress uniform with gold, reflective embellishments suffocating his suit jacket while fueling his growing desire to remain hidden within the shadows as it converted his torso into a glinting beacon under the passing lights. And Skywalker, a simpler, but equally sophisticated gray suit atop a pearly white button-down that screamed conformity louder than Anakin could voice his displeasure.
Still, leaving the crystals’ fate up to whether this gang would accept Republic Credits was a game of pure chance. That, and the notion of buying back stolen, sacred property was never the Jedi way.
That’s where you came in.
A Jedi whose Force-sensitivity was so saturated, that you had the ability to viscerally sense Kyber crystals from parsecs away. And a talent that, in Master Yoda’s opinion, made you the perfect addition to the team.
Well, that and the open secret that the three of you had long ago become an unofficial squadron already. Considering the countless missions you’ve traipsed through together for most of your Jedi, and even Padawan, years, it was a wonder that Master Yoda felt the need to specifically mention your name either way. Even on missions in which the rag-tag trio were slingshotted to opposite poles of the galaxy, you’d always found a way back to each other.
That, or the Force itself had a dire motivation to keep those momentary separations brief.
Perhaps that’s why the two men, in addition to their clothing-related distractions, had sparking nerves heightened by another, salient factor.
That you weren’t by their side.
Given your skill set, it was clear from the beginning your cover needed to be quite different from theirs. So, twenty hours before the auction was set to start, while Obi-Wan and Anakin prepared their disguises, you slipped out. Leaving for the brothel on your own since you all agreed that the only way to secure your cover as an establishment employee was by actually applying to become one.
It was the only surefire way to explore the back rooms without tipping the sellers off. The only option the three of you had to find the crystals’ exact location. And to ensure that when chaos did reign, the artifacts wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.
Still, neither man particularly enjoyed this arrangement.
“You remembered to bring it, correct?” Obi-Wan voiced, glancing at Anakin’s pensively taught brows beside him as the brothel’s neon purple sign gently flickered into view, encouraging him to once again tug at his neckline’s taught clasp around his throat.
“Of course!” The younger Jedi acknowledged. “I was the one telling her that she should’ve had it in the first place.”
In spite of the underlying weariness still thrumming at his chest, Kenobi couldn’t help but raise an amused brow at his former Padawan.
“You? Lecturing Y/n about leaving her lightsaber behind? I seem to recall that it was your inability to keep track of your own that landed us in this predicament in the first place.”
Anakin scoffed, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And I seem to remember Master Nu saying that the raid on the artifacts room wouldn’t have been discovered for weeks if it weren’t for me.”
Still, the chestnut-haired Jedi sighed, yanking down the tails of his gray suit jacket that just barely fit his longer form while he continued.
“Besides, it was no mistake. She didn’t take her lightsaber intentionally.”
Kenobi shook his head knowingly. Partly due to his former Padawan’s somewhat warped perspective of the situation, but mostly because he too was not completely on board with the notion of you being undercover and completely unarmed. Though, no matter how much he desired to do so, Obi-Wan had trouble denying that, like always, your reasoning stood sound.
A reminder that subconsciously made his heart flutter.
“You know, Anakin, that she couldn’t have feasibly hidden it away. It’s safer for her that we hold onto it for now. She will have it when she needs it.”
And that’s why, no matter his outward assurances, Kenobi seemed to have an inability to take his own advice. Perhaps too it was Anakin’s own anxieties that were infecting the Force.
But no leakage from his signature could truly reflect the hate Skywalker felt for this plan. He had shot down its premise the whole journey here, but in the end, it was no use. Anakin understood that once you put your mind to something, especially in the name of protecting the community you held so dear, there was nothing anyone in the Galaxy could do to stand in your way.
And he really did treasure you for that.
“I know,” Skywalker grumbled, pivoting to avoid a stumbling Bith with a curved bottle in hand, brown liquid sloshing out to land just beside his black dress shoe as he walked by. “But I still don’t like it.”
Evidently, no matter their confidence in your ability to take care of yourself, the two men remained deeply troubled by the fact that you were still far enough away as to be immune from their protection.
But that would soon change.
“Alright,” Kenobi slowed just beside the establishment’s greasy, revolving door to address the younger man as they neared their arrival.
“We will need to remain in one place so that Y/n can find us. She needs to know where we are at all times to deliver the signal. The zone’s blueprints suggest that the center bar will have the best vantage point. So that’s where we’ll go. Oh—“
Obi-Wan lifted a warning brow at the younger man.
“And don’t stray.”
Anakin rolled his eyes, lips pursing in an attempt to keep his face neutral.
“I don’t stray, Master.”
If you had your portable chronometer on your person, you would’ve checked it by now.
About fifteen minutes, you’d been waiting a handful of meters from the brothel’s storage room, disguised by the far corner tables nestled within the establishment’s shadowy edges. Marking it the perfect locale for distant observers of the night’s entertainment— or idly spying Jedi. Fifteen minutes since Krissa, a now fellow employee, shuffled into that very same room to collect a few crates of Fizzbrew for the opening bar. Nearly twenty hours after you’d secured employment as what the owner lovingly called a “Friendly Dancer.”
Luckily, it was during that same interview that you’d caught the colorful, Force-illuminated trail, leading your attuned senses to this secured back room, like a bloodhound to its prey.
Or a Jedi to her Kyber crystals.
Yet, despite your carefully chosen cover, both assumed identity and dark corner camouflage, you still had a nagging feeling that your specially selected ‘employee uniform’ wasn’t doing you any furtive favors.
Besides the strikingly crimson, skin-gripping short dress that clad your hips, the black, shimmering fishnet stockings and translucent platform heels were sure to draw some unwanted attention during a time in which invisibility was your best friend.
But you had no choice. If you had any hope of maintaining your cover and completing your mission, you had to work with what you were given.
So, for now, one of these rusted-over, ash stools would need to serve their purpose— concealing you from the trickling in throng’s broad perspectives as you kept a peripheral lock on that steel door’s sturdy frame. One by one, hungry bidders with puffy, expensive coats and sparkling wears thickened the atmosphere, all while you hoped Krissa would quicken her exit via the locked door so that you could slip in.
It was moments like these that you’d wished you had your lightsaber. At least then, you could’ve cut through the heavy, metal barrier all on your own.
But, alas, this was a mission of stealth. And you’d be damned to put either Obi-Wan or Anakin in danger because of your impatience.
Causing you to, once more, question their absence.
“Boys, boys. Where are you boys…” you hummed lowly to yourself.
Glancing toward the billowing crowd, you grew remiss at their absence. It was easy to recall how both Jedi were particularly against your decision to immerse yourself into this environment, alone and unarmed. So much so, that you assumed they would’ve arrived by now. An observation that forced you to consider how this mission was sure to sour quick were you required to act without backup.
You shook that thought out of your mind almost as immediately as it arrived.
Obi-Wan and Anakin would always appear when you needed them most.
And you adored them for that.
That, among the litany of elements that drew you into their lives in the first place.
Your first mission together was but a sapling in the times you were to share. Memories, little moments, and fleeting glances recently coalesced into the singular realization that you’d fallen in love with two of the most powerful Jedi the Galaxy has to offer.
But they were just that. Jedi.
And so were you.
So no matter your unquestionable feelings for the men, there was nothing you could do. Putting aside that you doubted any emotional reciprocation, you were sure too that they’d never break the Jedi code for you.
And that left you to again drag yourself back from those innermost thoughts to focus on the situation at hand. Specifically, your conclusion that any dearth left in Obi-Wan and Anakin’s wake would mean nothing of consequence if you couldn’t get into that storage room.
Luckily, there was no need to wait much longer.
Krissa shoved open the door, using her back to thrust it the rest of the way with a crate of clinking, dark green bottles swirling in her arms. Fluttering lilac dress flowing by her legs as her eyes landed on your surveilling form.
Kriff.
“Hey!” She scream whispered, brows stitched in reprimand while she leaned toward you. “You’re gonna get fired before you’ve even had a chance to work if you keep hiding from paying customers.”
You smiled sheepishly, playing into her assumption as you ‘stumbled’ to your feet.
“I’m so sorry,” you mouthed, ambling toward the older woman while lifting a hand to ripple through the force floating by her eyes.
You spoke lowly.
“You want me to help you bring out those crates.”
“I want you to help me bring out these crates,” she parroted in a glazed-over daze, arm catching the steel door just before it shut to allow you entry.
You nodded to her thankfully, even though she had no choice in the matter, before pushing your way past the chilly aperture, entering the stuffy storage room while the door slammed shut behind you.
Speedily, you surveyed the cramped compartment, stacked and spread to the ceiling with a strange concoction of alcohol-filled crates, charcoal cargo containers, and draped artifacts that evinced the basement of a museum far more than a brothel’s back room.
But you didn’t really give it a second thought. If you didn’t want to get caught, then there was no time to ponder aesthetics.
Quickly, as your eyes fluttered closed, you allowed the Force to thicken your blood, treating your body and mind like a living, breathing compass in its guide to connect you with your True North—
The seven missing Kyber crystals.
With vision consumed by blackness, you dodged each precariously placed box and every outstretched figurine that threatened to obstruct your path as your senses drew you a detailed map toward the back wall. Almost like a pulsing beacon, you felt the heat of your connection to the sacred artifacts deepen, warming your more-than-usually exposed skin. Intensifying with each, deliberate step. Until it reached a fiery blaze so extravagant that one stride further would’ve certainly lit you alight.
You opened your eyes.
“Hey!” A deep voice called from behind you, triggering your heels to spin around toward the sudden sound, and away from the loosely sealed cargo container whose subtle, yet familiar, blue shine confirmed your senses.
Swiftly, you absorbed the older man’s ruffly peppered beard and chilled brown eyes as his head poked past the slightly ajar steel door, barely masked snarl contorting his lips.
“I don’t pay you to ogle the merchandise! Get out there and mingle,” he continued, jutting a thumb to the club’s main room to his rear.
You leapt to your feet, making a mental note of the crystals’ location while scurrying toward the owner who seemed to have somehow grown at least one more gray hair since your interview with him.
“Sorry, sir,” you mumbled, twisting to get by his form against the door and entering onto the main floor before turning back toward him. “Won’t happen again.”
“It better not,” he huffed, swiveling to catch the shutting door with his foot before leaning down to retrieve something from behind it.
Still, his muffled voice echoed beyond the subsequent shuffling.
“You’re assisting tonight, and I want high bids. So get out there and make them like you.”
You nodded complacently, already prepared to whip around and follow his orders until the older gentleman reemerged with another case of green bottles cradled under his arm.
“And here,” he shoved the crate, obliging you to catch it somewhat unexpectedly with opened palms.
“Take this to the bar.”
“I don’t like this…” Anakin droned during his casual stroll toward Obi-Wan’s side, a glass of orange fizzy liquid held inconspicuously before his lips.
Kenobi was leaning against the bar, his cup of whatever was on tap cradled between his fingers yet clearly untouched. Instead, the subtly troubled Jedi’s attentive eyes continued their periodic scan of the barely lit brothel. Flitting past the pockets of gold-illuminated tabled alcoves and dark blue paneling, his eyes weaved through the voluminous throng. One that featured intimately quiet mumblings among extravagantly suited clientele and gorgeously draped employees.
It wasn’t hard for him to surmise the highest paying customers from the number of brothel workers who’d hang from their arms, clearly on the job.
Smiling at each of their glances. Laughing at every joke…
Kenobi wasn’t daft.
He clearly understood the expectations a club like this had for its staff. At the least, for those who mingled with the bidders before the show. He’d only hoped that with whatever position you’d acquired for your cover at this establishment, it wasn’t pressing you to do much of the same.
And no matter how illogical it sounded in his mind, he still didn’t want to see that.
Moreover, it seemed to be a thought that equally disturbed Anakin, as his gentle thrums of anxious musing stained the Force, gradually amplifying since both Jedi had yet to locate you.
The younger Jedi had always been protective of you, Obi-Wan excused, unbeknownst that Skywalker was making much of the same defense. Though for the chestnut-haired Jedi, it was more the self-justification that he was a protective person in general. And that this was nothing more than only that.
Just Anakin being Anakin.
“I’m confident she’ll turn up soon, Anakin.”
The younger man expressly sighed, permitting a brief beat to pass as a spring of laughter ricocheted by his ears from a nearby dancer. Waiting for it to die down with bated breath before angling to respond.
“What if she didn’t get the job? She might be trying to find a different way in right now.”
Obi-Wan had no need for reaching out to the Force in order to confidently answer that inquiry.
“She succeeded. Trust me, I’d know otherwise.” He hummed, raising his glass to just barely grace his lips, but never daring to take a sip and weaken his awareness. “However, should they not show soon, I am considering they may have been apprehended.”
Similarly, Anakin vehemently shook his head. He even permitted a wry chuckle to escape past those formerly parched lips before confidently responding to the Jedi Master’s statement.
“No way. If Y/n got caught, she’d send us a signal the second she felt us near.”
Skywalker’s confident air faltered.
“Well,” he shrugged nervously. “Assuming she’s not injured.”
Obi-Wan shot his former Padawan a disapproving glare.
Until his attention was suddenly grasped by a warm, comforting hand sliding across his shoulder.
“Is this what you boys do when I’m not around? Theorize about my potential failings?”
The two men spun toward you, catching the playful smirk consuming your features before their eyes were tugged down like an anchor to trail your stunningly sheathed body, almost as if it was the first time they’d ever laid eyes upon you.
It would be an understatement to state that absorbing this captivating sight had coerced their jaws into forgetting their primary function.
The low-cut style of your short, curving red dress. The fishnet stockings that stretched down your thighs and softly clasped your high-heeled feet. The sparkling, green gemmed earrings that perfectly brought out your plump, red lipstick and long lashes. And, most noticeably, your loose, flowing hair that they’d only ever seen tied back for battle, now resting lushly across your bare shoulders like a still-life statue.
It wasn’t a side of you either men had the pleasure of observing before. And, if given the chance, they’d challenge whichever entity had so long sealed this wonderful sight from their burning eyes to a duel.
One that such an unjust creature was sure to regret.
It was a kind of fairy tale notion that both men pondered instantly once they felt a bubbling heat swarm their countenance when faced by your visual power.
So much so, that Anakin couldn’t help but break the brief lull as his suddenly dried mouth reached down his throat for an audible, and undoubtedly embarrassing, cough as he scratched his nose to try to hide himself.
Obi-Wan wasn’t coping much better. The Master Negotiator had lost all concept of Basic, its vocabulary, grammar, and everything in between as his mind was only filled with your enticing image, your pleasantly exposed skin, and the touch of your fingers to his body.
Until it was too soon gone.
Your hand fell thoughtlessly to your side, head cocking with lifted brows before speaking.
“You can close your mouths. It was just a joke.”
But it was Kenobi who first gathered the confidence to respond.
“Um, you look—“
“Lemme guess. Ravishing? The night’s main treat?” You relayed sarcastically while heaving down a large crate of clinking bottles atop the bar, one that both men only just now noticed before you whipped back toward the still stunned Jedi, drawing their gaze center.
“I’ll have it known that the distance between the storage room and the bar is a mere fifteen-second walk and I’ve already heard it all—“
“…like an angel,” Anakin muttered, not even himself realizing that he’d said that aloud.
Your eyes widened ever so slightly as you felt your heart skip a beat, sending an unexpected tingle to the root of your gut before sheepishly smiling at the deepening flush of the chestnut-haired man.
Obi-Wan, on the other hand, tensely eyed his former Padawan.
“Okay, that one’s new,” you admitted, gaze trailing away to conceal your unpreparedness for such an unexpectedly sweet comment.
Ironically, it was at that moment that your wandering stare settling beyond Anakin’s shoulder abruptly caught a familiar, peppered beard. Accompanied by terse, beady eyes that scowled at you from a far wall with the intensity of a lodestar.
You had a decision to make.
But, really, was there a choice at all?
Obi-Wan would catch on, you thought.
Though, no matter how well Kenobi did understand the requirements of your cover, he still certainly wasn’t expecting you to, in a millisecond, swiftly stride toward his bewildered form to wrap your warm arms around his neck.
Immediately, despite the quickening of his thrumming heart latching onto his Adam’s apple, Obi-Wan raised his usually firm hands to gently clasp at your forearms, being sure to send you a questioning glance as he smoothly played along.
But under all that, and although he was still unsure why, deep down Kenobi secretly hoped that such a quizzical gesture hadn’t encouraged you to subsequently pull away. For some reason, he despised the thought of influencing you to forgo remaining this close to him.
So close, that he could feel the tickle of your breath across his chin.
Thankfully, though, his innermost prayer seemed to have been answered.
“Sorry,” you whispered, conveying an outwardly flirting expression of perked lips and a tilted head.
There were very few people in the Galaxy capable of reading the subtle apologetic shine of your eyes that deeply stared into his. An invisible utterance that remained firm while you briefly freed one hand to beckon over a confounded, and secretly peeved, Anakin who stood just behind his former Master, before you grasped his loose hand and tugged him forward with a terribly fake laugh.
Soon, you rested the younger Jedi’s arm on your lower back, securing its nervously flaccid form around your waist while Skywalker’s face transformed into a brand new shade of crimson once he discovered the dress’s open back.
A clearly readable reaction that deepened Kenobi’s hesitation with his former Padawan’s proximity to you. And while his mind struggled to connect the dots on why he continued to experience these strange bouts of discomfort, too distracted to truly pin down these sensations, Kenobi still felt fueled by Anakin’s expression to nudge you a little closer into his own chest.
If that was even possible.
Paying no mind to the sudden action, you addressed both men, giving a particular glance to Anakin who seemed to be the most caught off-guard of the two of them.
“The brothel’s owner made it very clear that if I don’t ’mingle’ with the customers, trouble will come my way.”
And that made the former slave’s blood boil.
“I’ll kill him.”
“No, you won’t,” you punctuated, temporarily removing your other arm from Obi-Wan to privately rest on Anakin’s balmy cheeks, caressing them down to draw his eyes to your level as he too struggled to fight off the festering heart attack that threatened to crack his rib, and deepened the sudden feeling of emptiness in Kenobi’s chest. “Because we have one mission here, and it’s to retrieve those stolen crystals. And I’m not losing my chance to snatch them away due to your needless protectiveness. I’m quite capable on my own.”
“What do you mean?” Kenobi inquired, taking this opportunity to regain some realm of confidence before snaking his arms around your waist and tugging you toward him with a roughness that would easily read as greedy to anyone who happened to be looking that way.
Still, the unexpected suddenness of his movement set the nerves in your face on fire. No matter, you played into the act, falling into his chest with fingers gripping onto the lapels of his oddly sparkly jacket.
“Um,” you swallowed, regathering your thoughts with a blink. “I’m assisting tonight. Meaning that I’ll be showcasing each item while they’re bid upon.”
You hummed to yourself while considering this new stroke of luck. A sudden vibration against Obi-Wan’s chest that you hadn’t realized sent a fresh, nervous chill down his arms as he held your mystifying figure, encouraging subtly wandering eyes to drink in the sight once more while his unsteady heart began to churn his innermost thoughts.
It was in that same moment that Anakin first caught onto his former Master’s charade, having finally glimpsed an equal measure of voraciousness within his distracted, blue orbs. Something that stoked Anakin’s frustration that began anew with each moment Kenobi drew you closer to himself.
“I say we don’t waste the credits,” you commented, refocusing both Jedi’s attention. “The minute I have the crystals in hand, I’ll send you a signal, and we’ll dash out of here.”
Obi-Wan leaned into you, forehead mere centimeters from yours as a spoke lowly. And for some reason, you thought, with noticeably erratic breath.
“That’s extremely risky.”
“Well, you have my lightsaber. Don’t you?” You challenged with a lift of your lips.
Suddenly, a trail of warm fingers raked up into your hair, sending quite an unexpected chill down your back once they clutched around a bunch and somewhat needily rotated your head toward Anakin’s expectant face. Yanking your body more forcefully before soon feeling his strong arm catch your side.
“I have it,” he spoke lowly.
And in spite of how desperately he tried to keep his eyes connected with yours, he couldn’t help that split second in which they sparsely flitted toward your perfectly tinted lips.
An action you apparently missed for your focus on the mission at hand.
But a gesture that contorted Obi-Wan’s lips into a perpetual frown as his mind caught up with his frothing feelings.
“Good,” you expressed. “Then I’ll have it when it’s needed.”
While your eyes remained focused and thoughtful, half a mind on playing up your cover with the other half on those crystals, Anakin had trouble keeping his eyes from once more wandering downwards.
The feel of your red-draped body against his, the closeness of your bared upper chest and noticeable cleavage, the sparkle of your eyes that comparably made your bright earrings look like clumps of coal.
Though not fully, Anakin was beginning to understand what was going on in his chest to draw his signature into such a volatile temper. Mostly because he couldn’t help himself when one hand released from your soft hair to trail down your exposed back, the other palm brushing upwards from your flank to meet the other side as he briefly traced the outline of your shoulder blades.
All of which sent a lightning bolt of cold heat right up to your head and down toward your sensitively tingling toes before he inched you toward him with the press of his fingertips while he whispered.
“Obi-Wan is right. I don’t think we should take the risk. But just in case you need it…”
Slowly, he retrieved a hand, raking it over your shoulder and feeling every inch of your arm while his mind cleared. The chestnut-haired man’s swelling eyes traced the enticing experience until he reached your hand. And with feigned gravitas clouding his features, he carefully guided your hand beneath his suit jacket, dragging it just along his warm back until you felt a cold metal resting beside his tailbone.
“…you know where it is.”
What was happening?
That was the main question you were asking yourself.
Were both Obi-Wan and Anakin just really amazing actors when the moment required it? You’d certainly never seen such a talent from either of them before. Yet the sudden naturalness, the near familiarity with which each Jedi pulled and held you close? The intimate touches and long glances while this secret meeting proceeded?
You weren’t sure what changed between twenty hours ago and now. Yet, in your core, you knew a part of your brain didn’t want it to stop.
No.
You were a Jedi. You were all Jedi. Committed to a code.
You must’ve been reading this wrong. Feelings that you knew you’d long held for the men had once again clouded your judgment.
Meanwhile, the growing tension between the two Jedi had heightened to a noticeable degree. But with your mind focused seemingly on other matters, it was only just to each other.
“You? Not wanting to be reckless?” You stated, attempting to suffocate your rushing nerves with a confident smirk. “Are you sure I’m speaking with Anakin Skywalker or do we have an imposter in our midsts?” You chuckled. “Oh, and agreeing with Obi-Wan?” You added, raising a brow.
This time, it was Master Kenobi who felt a fire erupt through his veins while his thoughts solidified.
It was you.
You who were making him feel such a way.
Ever and always.
On every mission and in each universal moment, it was you who made the Jedi Master take pause as his heart skipped a beat in your presence.
Master Kenobi was even more firm in this belief: that he was quite finished with watching Anakin cradle you in his arms for any longer. That, and the growing desire fueled by this new angle permitting Obi-Wan to graze over your open back’s supple skin with his eyes, drained him of all his decades-long self-control in an instant.
He needed to do something about that
Reaching a warm hand to the closest corner of your waistline, and with a little nudge from the Force on the other side, Obi-Wan tugged you right into his arms.
You felt the imperceptible, tiny scratches of his sequined suit jacket and the heat barely underneath sprawl across your back while his palms meandered up your sides and down each arm, soon folding them across you as he enveloped you against himself.
This time, you truly couldn’t help the light, crimson blush that bloomed across your cheeks. Especially when Kenobi chose this opportune time to gradually lean into your shoulder, chin dipping so that his lips hung mere centimeters from your attentive ear before whispering a warning with a tone warmer than you were used to hearing from the Master Negotiator.
Especially in the middle of a mission.
“You should listen to him.”
Still, despite feeling the ravenous desire to take a calming breath and smooth your hammering heartbeat, you held firm, responding to his inquiry with an overpowering confidence that usually settled any score when the three of you were having a disagreement.
At the same time, having just noticed the brothel owner’s decision to push off his far wall perch to approach, you decided to also strike a grin, raising a flirtatious brow over your shoulder at Obi-Wan’s unreadably dark eyes while you spoke, maintaining your cover.
“No. The plan stands. Trust me, there’s no need to worry.”
But, unexpectedly for you, witnessing your visually claimed figure in Obi-Wan’s arms barking out orders all while clad in that tiny red dress ignited a fierce burning passion in Anakin to challenge you back as he too decided to make his thoughts known.
Through his words and with his hands.
Taking one powerful stride to stand directly before your toes, the younger man just barely graced your bottom lip to seize your chin, lifting it upwards and twisting you to meet his wanting, blue gaze. Compelling your bright, widening eyes to wonder once more whether the lines between fiction and reality were beginning to blur.
Your breath hitched.
“Gentlemen!” The owner exclaimed, sliding next to Obi-Wan and Anakin to place a performative pat on both their shoulders. “I’m glad you’re enjoying one of our new hires, but I’m afraid that I’ll need to borrow her for the rest of the auction. We are about to begin.”
Wordlessly, both Jedi released their respective grips on you, sharing between themselves an unamused glance above your head while you ambled toward the owner. Never breaking your own, painfully forged smile.
But that seemed to be enough to convince the quite older owner that all was set to begin, as he swiftly turned on his heel toward the brothel’s far podium, motioning for you to follow his trail.
You promptly obliged, yet not before sending one quick, yet quiet, last word with a twist of your head toward the Jedi who begrudgingly stayed behind with crossed arms or a clenched beard.
“Wait for my signal.”
“I’m not stupid, you know,” Anakin commented idling by Kenobi’s side.
The two men continued their observations of the auction since it began half an hour ago, their eyes rarely drifting away from the rather cramped, rickety stage while you traveled from side to side, displaying each item with deliciously attractive poise. Presently, you were exhibiting an old, handheld marble statue modeled after a female Twi’lek. And although other patrons regarded the item with interest, the two Jedi meant to be watching your back for any danger had their minds on other matters.
Anakin couldn’t keep his eyes off your sensually pacing legs, while Obi-Wan could barely remain still with your elegant, tightly wrapped hips moving to and fro.
“I hear 2,000 credits! 2,000 credits. Do I hear 2,100?”
Master Kenobi readjusted his shoulders somewhat uncomfortably. “I know. I don’t believe I’ve said otherwise.”
“Don’t play dumb. I know you want Y/n.”
The bearded Jedi whipped his head from the stage as he addressed the seemingly jealous, younger man. And for the first time in a very long time, Obi-Wan began to feel those same, envious emotions with equal strength, like he’d caught some psychic disease from the blue-eyed Jedi’s glance alone.
“2,100! Do I hear 2,200? 2,200 folks, for this ancient artifact of an unknown Ryloth civilization!”
“And?” He acknowledged nonchalantly, taking an assertive stance while he found comfort in the memory of you in his arms. “And what if I do?”
Anakin’s lips formed a thin line, the image of your parted, shocked lips when he caught your dressed figure perfuming his thoughts. “Then you wouldn’t be alone.”
“I’ve noticed,” Kenobi stated sarcastically before raising a rather annoyed brow.
“Going once! Going twice!”
“What are you gonna do?” Anakin mumbled.
Skywalker had to ask the question. Even though he’d already confirmed in his mind that no matter what, no matter if Master Kenobi felt the same, that he’d give you the chance of knowing that there was more than one.
Obi-Wan answered simply. “I’m planning on telling her.”
“Sold! To the fellow in the orange top hat on the right!”
Because through the older Jedi’s musings, Kenobi was arriving at a similar conclusion. That if you in any way felt the same, he’d at least give you a choice.
“I assume you’ll be doing the same?” He continued.
“Yes.” Anakin sighed, eyes returning to the stage just as you remerged with an old, raggedy yet sealed box held tightly in your hands. “And what if she can’t decide?”
Obi-Wan followed the young Jedi’s line of sight, subconsciously licking his lips as the fabric of your tight, red dress pulsed his blood and slackened his jaw.
“Then we do what we must…”
The bearded Jedi swallowed.
Hard.
“…we help her.”
A rallying spark flung through the Force, filling both Jedi’s senses as they were wrenched from the momentary, visual distraction that was your ravishingly dressed person.
There was no way to deny it. Your pointed expression? Your readied stance?
The signal had just been fired.
Reaching for their respective lightsabers hung inconspicuously at the belt, both Jedi swiftly whipped their weapons out into the open, igniting a collective blue glow that provided enough of a shockingly, eye-catching distraction for you to leap from the stage, box in hand, without much recourse.
Then came the blasters.
As if emerging like shadows from the establishment’s dark corners, a sporadic group of armed men dressed like well-to-do pirates began their determined assault. Coloring the air with orange beams while the crowd scattered, hurried screams and the groans of abruptly shuffling furniture echoing off the walls.
You bolted for the Jedi, triggering both to somersault toward you while they attempted to block any bolt that you nearly failed to dodge before landing at either flank. Thankfully, that provided the chance to fling a searching arm beneath Anakin’s suit jacket, grasping your saber from its warm habitat before yanking it out into the open to launch its green luminescence.
“Go!” Obi-Wan cried, deflecting another round of bolts from your rear while the two men encircled you like a living, breathing barrier.
“We’ll hold them off!” Anakin agreed, flinging a badly aimed bolt toward a now broken and sparking light fixture above before facing you. “Get back to the ship!”
You glanced at both men, making clear your uncertainty and reluctance through the Force as, even with your aid, the gentle perspires of their efforts became noticeable.
But it was their turn to stay firm.
“Now! We’ll be right behind you!” Obi-Wan strictly assured.
So, with the box of crystals secured tightly beneath one arm and your saber effectively defending against the coming onslaught with the other, you decided to, for once, follow the boys’ instructions as you bolted for the exit, and out the brothel’s door.
And, with their hearts already racing, both Jedi had to do their best not to focus on your distracting wears as they paved a path to race after you.
Leaping through the red and white Nu-class shuttle’s rear hatch the instant it opened wide enough to do so was enough to coerce out an instant sigh of relief as your feet landed on the metal floor, drawing you deeper into the bird’s belly. Naturally, after regaining some bearings in the familiarity of the ship, you felt secure enough to set the relatively sturdy box of Kyber crystals atop a nearby ledge before turning to assess the situation behind you.
You already sensed that Anakin and Obi-Wan had stuck close to your heels during the entire escape, sabers twirling with elegant control against any threatening phaser until you strayed far enough beyond the brothel’s preview to lose any potential tails. So you weren’t surprised to find both men maintaining a similarly brisk pace while speeding up the ramp seconds after your arrival. Sabers long ago clipped back at their sides with Obi-Wan leading the way, leaving Skywalker in charge of closing the now slowly rising hatch.
What you weren’t expecting, however, was that the overpowering determination emanating from the bearded Jedi’s face had not in the least bit lessened since he entered the craft. Quickly, yet smoothly, he shed his gaudy suit jacket, tossing it unceremoniously to the side as he subsisted his approach.
In fact, the slight narrowing of those blue eyes, an expression you’d only seen in the occasional sparring session, remained forwardly focused. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was charging right for you, an action itself that compelled you to perplexedly speak while his brown boots closed that ever-shrinking distance.
“What are you—“
Warm lips smashed against yours, moving hungrily yet delicately while Obi-Wan’s sturdy arms snaked around your waist to gently tug you into himself.
Your heart nearly stopped, and from the tingling, tiny explosions erupting at each and every nerve ending alone, you felt yourself fall into the momentum, arms raising with the certainty of a choreographed dance to cradle Obi-Wan’s head and run your fingers through his soft, auburn locks.
Whether consciously or not, his grip on you tightened, straining your breath before you had the unavoidable need to be even closer to him. You intensified the kiss, drawing his plump, reddened lips into slow and steady locks, only for them to release with the duration of a clap before you both deeply met each other again with needy swiftness.
It felt like hours, but it had been mere seconds since the instant his body met yours. Still, the two of you reluctantly pulled away from each other. Mostly to catch much-needed breaths from the pure, unadulterated shock of it all.
Master Kenobi held you still as your gaze graced over his flushed features, including that slightly tussled hair and darkened eyes that diverted from their usual bright sparkle. Especially when they flitted from your surprised orbs, to your plump lips, and back again.
But no matter this pleasing diversion, still, out of the corner of your eye, you were forced to notice Anakin— standing in the far corner in quiet observation, and chillingly reminding you of where you were and what important rules both you and his former Master had certainly just broken in his presence.
What made it all worse, though, was that for the life of you, you could not read the younger man’s expression. Apparently, he had just stood there, arms crossed once the shuttle door was secured and simply… watched? Impassively?
No, that couldn’t be right.
Then, he pushed off the wall.
Anakin’s arms fell to the side as he gradually approached you both, brows tightening into what looked like a slightly angrier cross that ran your brain into overdrive. You were still having trouble discerning his emotions through the Force, but could only make an educated guess that he was beyond frustrated that the two beings closest to him had just broken the Jedi Code.
And, also because, he didn’t seem to have any particular reaction to what Obi-Wan did, making you sadly doubt that he’d ever feel the same way you’d always felt for the chestnut-haired man and his former Master.
So, no matter how right it felt, how much you wanted it, you knew that it was time for some damage control.
“Obi-Wan…” you took a deep, shaky breath, nerves still firing at every end while your stare stood firmly on Obi-Wan’s wanting expression, Anakin nearing your side.
You loosely exhaled.
“Where did that—“
Hot moisture met your neck, Anakin’s wet lips attacking its side and extracting a startled gasp from your lungs as your eyes fluttered closed. Greedily, he cupped your throat to softy tug you toward him, draining your arms into a state of perpetual pliability from the pleasant heat filling your chest.
They slid, soon falling from Obi-Wan’s body entirely before you angled toward the younger Jedi and shakily twisted them around his shoulders for support. Another weak sigh escaped past your lips once you felt Anakin’s teeth graze across a sensitive spot as the weakening kisses continued, an action which only seemed to encourage the younger Jedi considering he returned to that spot with more fervor, sucking it dry until your jaw slackened.
Still, no matter how dazed your mind had become in this last minute of chaos, you just couldn’t believe this was happening.
It had to be a mistake, right? Was something else wrong?
Something must have happened.
Regathering your senses, you quickly pulled away from Anakin, feeling the resistance of your initial jerk snap Anakin from his equally influenced status as he quickly tried to give you space.
“Are you ok??” He asked rapidly, eyes seeping wide-eyed worry and flickers of guilt while Obi-Wan, who was initially calmly analyzing the show, too shifted to share a similarly concerned expression.
“Yes, of course,” you aired, still slightly out of breath as you stared confoundedly at the two men. “I’m fine Anakin, but what is going on? This is coming out of nowhere.” You shook your head. “Were the two of you drugged or something?”
“In a sense, I suppose we were,” Obi-Wan answered nonchalantly.
You raised a brow.
“Y/n,” Anakin uttered, drawing your eyes toward his. “Obi-Wan and I realized something back there during the mission. Something it looks like we both kinda knew for a while but didn’t really understand until now.”
Master Kenobi’s eyes raked across your figure once more while he spoke. “I saw you there, we saw you, truly, for the first time. And I lost my breath.”
You melted at his words.
“All I saw was pure beauty and you, and I couldn’t tell the difference,” Anakin spoke disjointedly, nearly making you giggle. “And I knew that seeing you like this, in this way, I couldn’t wait any longer. We couldn’t wait. We needed to tell you.”
“Tell me?” You asked breathily, preparing yourself for whatever was to come next.
“That we desire you,” Obi-Wan barely whispered, fluttering your stomach. “That you are more important to us than ancient statutes. And we determined that you must know so that you may decide if you wish it.”
You shuttered, worries of the Code fading into nothingness while the two men before you consumed your senses. “Decide?”
Anakin stared at you, a pleading glint in his eyes as he spoke gently.
“Which one of us you want back.”
Your still heavy breaths punctuated the otherwise quiet air. Characteristic of the thoughts rattling against your buzzed skull before a throaty mutter made its way past your teeth.
“I can’t…”
You watched while their faces deflated at your words.
“We understand, Y/n,” Obi-Wan spoke, a subtle sadness drooping his tone. “It’s quite alright—“
“No,” you corrected quickly. “No, I can’t decide.”
Anakin’s brows quirked at this, head tilting as curiosity subdued his brief listlessness.
“What do you mean?” He asked.
You sighed heavily, eyes drifting to the floor with an unaccustomed quiver. “I mean, I can’t decide because… because…”
You bit your lip.
“I want you both.”
Raising your head, you carefully observed the two men, bodies as still as statues while their swollen eyes held firmly on your figure. Anakin nurturing a steadily expanding, devious grin while he quietly flexed a fist, and Obi-Wan, faintly flicking his tongue across his top lip in an effort to carefully drink in your figure.
A pleasant chill ran down your spine.
“Is that alright?” You whispered.
Anakin chuckled incredulously, cueing Obi-Wan to respond to that inquiry.
“Darling,” he murmured, insatiable eyes sucking you barren as the nickname sent a new round of tingles down your legs. “That stretches far beyond ‘alright.’”
“How do you want us?” Anakin posed, tone nearing a growl.
Unfiltered, you spoke your mind.
“As close as possible.”
And the Jedi obliged.
________________________________________________________________
Should I do a part 2 at some point? Let me know :)
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grippingbeskar · 2 years
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had you said the words
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obi-wan kenobi x fem!reader
word count: 7.5k
warnings: ADULT CONTENT MINORS DNI (oral m and f receiving, general sexual content, obi-wan is a virgin but they don’t actually fuck but yeah) swearing, think that’s it??
a/n: obi wan i love youuUuUuUu. okay in honour of the show coming out i am finally letting go of this lil thing I made. i wrote it months ago but never felt like it was good enough to post but here we are!! im feeling okay about how it turned out so i hope u enjoy and if you didn’t just lie and say you did!!! also this is inspired by that one line from the clone wars u know the one. okay that’s enough goodbye!
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“This is ridiculous! You can’t do this!” You shout to the Jedi council. In front of you is some of the galaxy’s most respected members, the most seasoned generals from the clone wars, and yet not a single one seems to be able to see reason.
“We must. For the good of the Jedi.” Mace Windu says from the corner of the room, not meeting your eye. Your face drops, unable to comprehend their callousness.
“How could you? You know me. I would never jeopardise my career. This is what I’ve done my entire life! I-’
“This isn’t permanent, however the council has made a decision. We cannot afford to have a Jedi falter in their cause - not now, in the middle of a war.” Plo Kloon says, empathy guarded behind the crushing words. So that was that. All this over one decision.
You made one mistake.
One.
During the heat of battle, you lost sight of your focus, lost control, all because of one particular member of the council who sits in front of you now, saying nothing. Obi-Wan cant even look at you, and you dont know if its because of disappointment or if he just doesn’t care as much as you thought he would. Maybe he agrees with them. A sense of anger washed over you and you see him fidget in his chair, locking eyes with you for the first time since the council called session.
“He would have died.” Your voice shakes as you tilt your head towards Obi Wan Kenobi, leaving his gaze to find the rest of the council staring at you. “I saw the situation and reacted. I only did what I had to - to save him.”
“Had to, you did?” Master Yoda croaks from next to Mace, and you shudder a breath under his accusation, but nod.
“Yes.” The council all look at you, well, all except Kenobi, who’s knuckles are going white gripping the side of his chair, and nod. You bow your head, knowing you are fighting a losing battle, and spin to leave the room.
“You are one of the best of us, child. We know you meant no harm, but this is the Jedi way.” Kit calls and you dont get a chance to respond as the doors shutter behind you.
You were heartbroken. All day you had been turning over the events of yesterday in your head, trying to see a way out - another way you could have saved his life without compromising your career. There was none.
It started out as any battle did, the longevity of the Clone wars hardening most Jedi to become seasoned generals. Anakin and Ahsoka took troops around the back to catch the droids from behind, while you and Kenobi engaged the main platoon. It was going well - even perfect, you and Kenobi working seamlessly together, able to read each others minds, know the others thoughts without ever having to look at each other. It had been that way since he found you on Corellia, a teenager with a strong connection to the force and an attitude to boot. He trained you - in spite of everyone who told him you were a lost cause, showed you the ways of the Force and watched you grow into one of the best Jedi in the Republic - you were part of the reason he took a chance on Anakin. 
Either way, no matter how well you knew each other, you never could have expected what happened next.
Breaking the droid lines, you breached their hold. This was the main prize, for it contained the systems that held hundreds of documents detailing the battle regiments of the droids entire army, including exact numbers, weaponry and AT-AT deployments. What neither of you knew was that they had one last surprise set up.
As Obi-Wan entered the hold, you could both feel something was off immediately. You told him as much, and said you should wait for Anakin and Ahsoka to arrive so you could go in together and scan for entities. Obi Wan was convinced there was no time, the droids already beginning to regroup outside the hold. He wasn’t wrong, you could feel them caging you in, but he had always taught you to be patient; to clear your mind before rushing into battle. The role reversal threw you off guard as he pushed forward into the hold.
You still felt uneasy, but you didn’t argue and stepped inside with him. It was huge, monotone walls shutting you into a sphere shaped room, two steel doors that shuttering behind you. As Obi-Wan took one more step, you both heard the click at the same time, heads snapping to find each other’s eyes, and you didn’t even think before you reacted. 
Obi-Wan turned and threw himself at you before you even got a glimpse of the explosive. Within seconds you knew he would be blown to pieces, but his body would shield the blast from you and the board of computers behind you, which contained the information the entire mission was hinged on. Time stood still. This is what is was to be a Jedi - to sacrifice yourself for the greater good, the bigger cause, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.
Obi-Wan looked down at you, and his eyes were so piercing - so satisfied in his decision to die so that you will live, and you felt him through the Force, a warm longing drifting into your heart. You knew what he was saying; all the words you could never speak out loud, the thoughts you were too afraid to have in fear he would reject them. It was his final goodbye - and you couldn’t take it.
You threw out your hand, finding the explosive through the Force and flinging it behind you, right behind the computers main frame. The blast went off a split second later, shattering the entire set up and motherboard. The information would be gone, a shimmering snow of computer parts and wires falling around you. All you could focus on, though, was how Obi-Wans’ hand had come up to cup the side of your face, and how warm his skin was against your cheek, the failure of the mission worth every second of contact.
“You saved me.” He had said, voice a whisper under the still falling pieces of the destructed technology. You just nodded, and he didn’t move from on top of you, reminding you how it would have been the other way around had you acted half a second later, and he would have been dead. 
His eyes were filled with an emotion you have seen a few times before, but you don’t know what it is. You only know that when he looks at you like that, your heart beat shoots into your throat, and every feeling you tried to lock away when you became a Jedi fights its way back to the surface. 
Once Anakin and Ahsoka arrived, they found you both in amongst the rubble, and it wasn’t until the shock had surpassed that you realised you were both all cut up from the debris. They brought you back to the main base, and you weren’t thinking straight, immediately spilling about how you sustained these injuries. You put Obi-Wans life above the Jedi cause, and even though you knew you would get in trouble for it, you couldn’t hide from the truth.
What you hadn’t expected was Obi-Wans complete silence. He hadn’t spoken to you since you arrived back to base, and you were sure he was just preparing for the council meeting where he would back you, abide by your decision, or at the very least say something. He didn’t. Anakin and Ahsoka tried their best to influence the council, but neither of them held the power to do much. Anakin was still not yet a Master Jedi, and Ahsoka; although she had the attitude of one, was not yet a general.
So now you were marching back to your room, empty halls of the ship seeming colder and colder the further you get from Obi-Wan. You knew what you did betrayed the sacred oath you made the day you put on your Jedi robes. Jedi did not make emotional connections, the order had to be put first, and the good of the galaxy depended on it. You knew you risked countless lives by losing that critical information, and you knew you would be reprimanded.
You didn’t regret it though.
You were always a rule breaker, a little bit of a rebel in regards to the orders strict guidelines on that kind of behaviour - how were you to truly care about the galaxy if you had no one in it to protect? It was human nature to form connections - and practically impossible not to care in the case of Obi-Wan’s life. Did they expect you not to attempt to save him, even when there was a way to do so?
Obi-Wan was one of the many times you broke the rules. You were infatuated with him ever since you met him - he was significantly older than you, yes, although not by so much it would be deemed inappropriate. You were both adults, so it was more your occupations that kept you from admitting your feelings. He found you on Corellia, sacrificed his time and patience to mould you into the perfect fighter, fought for your right to train beside the Jedi even with your training being so late. He stuck up for you your entire life, and it made his silence that much more painful. 
You finally trudged through the ship far enough to find your room, and as you go to enter, you feel two familiar figures come up behind you, and a female voice calls your name.
“We were waiting outside, but they made us leave after they called the session.” Ahsoka says, and she reaches out to hold your arm, careful to miss the bandage holding you together. 
“It’s fine. Nothing happened we didn’t already know would happen.” You knew they would remove your titles - take away your leadership of your battlement. It was a glorified way of grounding you, sending you to your room as if you were a child.
“What of Obi-Wan? There has to be a way to change their mind. He has to be trying.” Anakin says, shaking his head. Him and his master have always gotten along, and their bond is one that rivals brothers, but you know Anakin takes after you in the attitude department, so as he paces up and down the corridor, you know he’s as pissed as you.
“What of him? He couldn’t even look at me. I don’t think he even blinked the entire session.” You scoff, and even Ahsoka shakes her head, more confused than angry.
“He’s going to have to speak up sometime.” Ahsoka says, and releases your arm.
“He will if I have anything to say about it. Padmè will talk to the council about the diplomatic influence, she’s already speaking to the other generals. We will have you back out there in no time.” Anakin’s eyes are fiery, and you smile at the man who was once a boy, small and unsure now so confident and clear.
“If he wanted to, he would of. Thank you, both of you for your help, but I’m just going to have to ride this one out. There’s nothing I can do about it now.” Both of them look at you with the same sympathetic frown, and you would laugh at how similar they are if you weren’t feeling so defeated.
“For what it’s worth, I would have done the same thing.” Anakin says, and he steps forward. You know he’s talking about Padmè, and you nod, a mutual understanding of the conflicting emotions of the Jedi way. They both turn to leave, and you can hear the hushed conversation of their plan as they round the corner.
You enter your room and fall onto the bed, the air rushing out as soon as your head hits the pillow. The past few days have been entirely exhausting, and you weren’t just thinking about the cuts and bruises that now littered your skin. This little incident has forced you to really own up to your feelings towards Obi-Wan. The way you felt when you were faced with the possibility of him dying tore you to shreds, and the strength of those emotions were impossible to draw up to just an admiration of a friend, or a small crush born of gratitude. You were in love with him, and you had been for a while. You knew it was wrong and you wanted to fight it, fight the feeling you drowned in whenever he was in the room, whenever he smiled at you or pulled you away to talk about battle plans, knowing no one else would understand the way he thinks but you.
It also forced you to think about how he may feel about you. He reacted so quickly, throwing himself on top of you when the explosive dropped, and the look in his eye told you he wouldn’t of regretted dying for you. His Force - the energy you knew so well felt different - like he was reaching into your body and touching everything inside you, giving you no option but to yield to him. The intensity of it - it was nothing you had ever felt before.
It made it hard to breathe, thinking about that. Would he have ever felt the same? He was one of the most accomplished Jedi in the galaxy, surely there was no way he would return those feelings, right?
It was impossible - you and him, for so many reasons, the main one being how you were now banned from fighting, banned from council meetings and practically shunned from the Republic just for presenting the idea that he meant more to you than you let on. One mistake, you said to yourself, but you weren’t entirely sure it was a mistake.
Your eyes began to close, and even with everything in your life being pulled apart, you can’t help but drift off. Your energy is drained, and maybe that’s why after you fall into a deep sleep, you don’t feel Obi-Wan’s presence at your door before he knocks, softly, almost as if he doesn’t want you to hear it.
You know its him as soon as you open your eyes, able to recognise his energy anywhere, but when he says your name, you throw the blanket off and move to open the door.
Dull lights from the hallway don’t show you any emotions on his face. It has to be the middle of the night. His hair is out of place and he looks so unlike himself. He is almost always put together, in his robes and armed with his lightsaber, but he stands in front of you in just a few layers and no weapon to be seen.
“Wh- What are you doing?” He shifts his weight onto the other leg and finally looks at you.
“I needed to see you. The council held me all day. May I?” He motions to behind you. Was he asking to come in to your room, at three in the morning? After what has just happened?
“I don’t know if thats a good idea, considering.” Your voice is small. The truth is that you do want him to come in, more than you’ve wanted anything. To have him in close quarters, all to yourself - it’s what you’ve wanted for years, and you hate that you have to sound even slightly hesitant.
“If you don’t want to see me, I understand. I’ll go.” He steps backwards and your hand shoots forward to grab the wrist of his robe before you can think.
“No! I do.” Damn, you folded fast under those puppy dog eyes he was giving you. You step out, looking left and right. The hallway is completely empty, and you dont have long before the skeleton crew of night guards come back through on their rotation. “Come.”
He moves swiftly past you and closes the door behind him, you going to sit on the edge of your bed. You sigh, trying to get a hold of the swirling array of emotion twisting in your stomach. It felt similar to wanting to puke. On one hand you want to scream at him, demand him to answer for the way he acted, or rather didn’t act in the council meeting.
On the other, you want to take advantage of this time. You have already lost the one thing that kept you from admitting your feelings to him, what more could you lose? You don’t get a chance to decide, because he speaks first, standing in front of you.
“I wanted to apologise. The way that I behaved today - it was cowardly. I should have spoken sooner.” You were nodding, but when he says sooner you look up at him and tilt your head. “When the council dismissed you, I felt the true consequence of my actions. I ordered a reconsideration.”
That makes your eyes widen a little. The thought of the Obi-Wan Kenobi arguing with the entire council on your behalf makes the heat in your cheeks heavier, and you look away, hoping he can’t sense it.
“A reconsideration?” You repeat, and he nods.
“Yes. I was afraid I may of found my bearings too late, but I explained how your actions were only fuelled by your respect for me, and that you would have done the same for any council member had they been in my place. I know how much you respect the order and your superiors, and I told them as much. We have a… unique connection, something other people might not completely comprehend. I explained as best I could.” You blink, trying to take in every word, but you are stuck on the first part. Your actions weren’t fuelled by respect. Your heart acted before your mind did, and he had just lied to the council for you, because he knew it too.
“I find it hard to imagine you had anything to say, considering you stayed so silent during the three hours of my own hearing.” Anger bubbles up your chest at his dismissing statement, and he rubs his hands over his face.
“I apologise. I was - not in the right mind to speak. I was afraid I would only make the situation worse.” His voice shakes slightly as he stops talking.
“So, you lied.” 
“I did not lie. You deserve your place, on the battle field and on that council one day. I will not let this incident ruin your career. Not over something like this.” The unsaid words hang in the air, thick as smoke.
Not over me.
“You did lie. You told them I did it out of respect.” You can’t look at him, nerves starting to break up that anger you felt as his voice gets softer. He says your name again, and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for his response.
“I also told them about what I did. You are not the only one who acted on instinct. I was unprepared; arrogant even. I should have listened to you.” You scoff and shake your head. “Tell me how I can make this right.”
“Look, whats done is done. Thank you for speaking in my favour, but the council has made up their minds.” Defeated, and convinced you weren’t going to hear what you so desperately wanted to hear, you move further away from him on the bed and let your back rest against the wall. He was quiet for a moment, letting you sigh and sink into the wall. Maybe he thought you were going to continue - he seemed to be anticipating something. After a while, though, he starts to fidget and shifts his weight to the other side again.
“I know you have more to say to me. Argue with me; yell at me, if you must. Just speak to me.” He finally speaks. You dont remember ever seeing him this unsteady. You sigh again and find his eyes, already looking at you, pleading.
“You threw yourself at me. You would have died today if I hadn’t thrown that explosive. Do you really expect me to believe you also did that out of respect for the Jedi?” His face doesn’t change, he doesn’t even move. “Because I didn’t. I didn’t think about the Jedi, or the information on those computers. I wasn’t even thinking about myself. I thought of you. I wanted to save you.” The confession sheds a weight of your shoulders you didn’t even know you were carrying, and your mouth is suddenly dry as Obi-Wan continues to stare at you. He goes to speak and his voice cracks, so he swallows hard and tries again.
“I wanted to save you too.” You think you stopped breathing. “If you had gone in first, you would have.... It would have been my fault. I couldn’t bare it; to lose you would destroy everything.” Your eyebrows furrow together and you slide off the bed, standing only a few steps from him.
“Destroy your plan to get me on the council?” 
“It would destroy me.” You see it beginning to crack; the fragile glass ceiling that kept your deepest secrets below. You suck in a breath as his voice cracks and he keeps talking somehow. “What you said, about lying to the council. You are right. You know I respect you as a general, and I want all those things I spoke about for you. I want to provide that for you. To think you would lose that because of me - it couldn’t happen.”
It couldn’t happen.
This, the heat swirling in between you in the dimly lit room, it couldn’t happen. It would mean the destruction of both of your lives, and you knew that. You never expected him to say any of this in front of the council, but a small part of you dared to hope he would say it to you. 
“I understand.” Your head drops, and you see his hand rise up, and a finger coming underneath your chin. Your breath hitches as he gently brings your face back up to his, the warmth of his skin a welcomed return. This was it. The crossing of the invisible line. It felt so much easier to do now that you were here. You resist the urge to press into his touch.
“I lied to the council, but I am not sure how much longer I can lie to myself.” His eyes search yours for any sign of confusion, or resentment, or anything other than the heavy longing that has been building over years and years of close proximity. However, its you who hesitates this time, although you dont pull away.
“Obi, this - I won’t let you risk your position for this. Mine is already at threat, we can’t - I know what the order means to you. I couldn’t - ”
“Had you said the words, I would have left the Jedi Order.” Your heart flutters and your stomach drops. Left? “I nearly lost you yesterday and I - I don’t know what to do. How can I continue on this path when I feel this way? The one thing that feels right - how can it be viewed as so wrong?” You step towards him this time, wanting to be closer.
“You mean you-”
“When I threw myself over you yesterday, it was because I couldn’t imagine living in this galaxy if you were not by my side. You are the only thing worth more than this. Any of this. I want - truely, I want to serve the republic - the planets, bring aid and peace where I can and protect those who cannot fend for themselves. It is all I’ve wanted my entire life. I never knew I could- that I would want anything else- until I met you.” You bring your hand to cover his own on your face, and he closes his eyes when your hands thread together.
“You won’t have to leave this behind. I swear. I’ll talk to the council, admit it was my fault. We can figure this out, together.” You can’t compute his confession, not yet, not when he’s going down this road of throwing everything he’s worked for out the vat - for you.
“You will do no such thing.” Your face is screwed up with worry and your anxiety of the danger of confessing your feelings is creeping up, but you feel his energy mixing with your own, and he is so calm and steady it makes your hands stop shaking.
“I care for you, too. A little too much, I think.” He smiles for the first time in days, absorbing the heat of your words and letting them sink into his skin. “We- we just need time. We can figure this out. Let this whole thing settle down first.” You nod at your own plan and hold his hand tighter to your face, not wanting the contact to end.
“Whatever you want, I will make sure of it. I will not silence myself again, I swear it.” You smile this time, and his thumb comes to run over your bottom lip. His eyes widen with the contact, as if he’s surprised by his own actions.
“I know why you did now. You didn’t want them to think it was true. Because you already knew how I felt about you, didn’t you?” You smile a little and he mirrors it.
“You were never all that proficient at hiding how you feel. It took everything in me to cover your anger during the session.” You think of how he was so concentrated, looking almost in pain as he watched you in silence. “But yes, I have known of your feelings for a while, although I wasn’t sure if they were aimed at me.” You step forward again, and you can feel his chest against yours, robes brushing your bare arms.
“How long?”
“A few months. My own - affections, however, have been stirring for quite longer, if I am honest with myself.” He almost sounds ashamed, and you want to punch every single council member for making him feel that way.
“If it makes you feel better, I have definitely had a crush on you for longer than that.” He breaths out a laugh, and you feel it on your cheeks. 
“Is that so?” You loved this side of him, teasing and lighthearted. It was rarer these days, but it made you feel warm inside that he let you see it.
“Don’t let it go to your head.” You roll your eyes and grin at him, and he closes the distance between you. He doesn’t kiss you, but he’s close enough that if you stuck your chin out just a fraction, your lips would touch. Your legs feel like jelly and you are sure he can feel how nervous you are through the energy you must be putting out, but you never hide it. Not from him. You hear him swallow, and you keep your eyes closed.
Just in case.
“I don’t know what this is.” He says, his honesty making you feel a lot more at ease. Neither of you have any idea how to play this, of what is too far. All you know is how badly you want him to kiss you.
“Neither do I.” He nods and leans his forehead to yours. Now all you would have to do is tilt your head, and you could finally feel him against you how you have wanted to all these years. “We can just- go slow. Okay?”
“Slow.” He says and you can feel him sigh, and then he moves. He tilts his head. You stay deadly still, afraid to scare him off. As much as you both are completely inexperienced, you are pretty sure he has less an idea than you do. You were 19 when he found you, and didn’t become a Jedi until two years after, so you had some time to experiment in that department, but from what you know, Obi-Wan has been dedicated since childhood - something you admire about him.
His breathing picks up and his lips brush against yours. He was right there, all you had to do was move. He makes a small sound in the back of his throat and you cant contain yourself anymore. You move your head to capture his mouth in yours.
The kiss is as perfect as any first kiss you could imagine. It was sweet, no tongue, just slow, simple movements as you both explore the feeling of each other. His free hand comes to your hip on instinct, pressing you harder against him. He clearly wasn’t prepared for his own action again, a moan of surprise vibrating against your lips as your bodies come together. You move both of your arms around his neck, one tangling in his messy hair.
As you start to find a rhythm, the hand on your hip gets tighter, needing you to be closer, to touch more of him. You need it too, and as much as you wanted to rip his clothes off right now, your sense of urgency is dulled by the unknown of if this would ever happen again, so you were going to be as slow and explorative as possible. 
You swipe your tongue along his bottom lip, and you feel him jolt a little under the movement. It sends warmth through your entire body to know how affected he is by you, and it only makes you want to give him more. You owed everything to him, your entire life, and you wanted to show him just how much you appreciated him. 
He opens up to you and you slide into his mouth, the feeling of him moving against you making you moan. The sound mades him tense, and he gets a little more desperate with his movements, kissing you a little harder and walking to back you up against the bed. You spin and push him back, and his legs give out so he sits on the edge.
He looks up at you, chest heaving. He extends his arms and you take the hint, straddling him and bringing your mouth back to his. Both of his hands stay off your ass, one coming back on your hip, which you think he likes because he can create the tiniest amount of friction between you, the other resting on the small of your back. You keep your arms around his neck and he twists his head a little, inching your hand back up into his hair. You smile a little and oblige him, twisting your fingers through the soft strands. 
You start to feel him harden underneath you, but you don’t want to push him. Instead, you just follow the grip on your hip and start to move when he does, grinding against him ever so slightly. He moans instantly, a deep, low sound that vibrates to your bones. You do it again, and he gasps, so you tear your lips away from him to let him breath. His mouth chases yours and you giggle.
“I don’t think I will ever get enough of that.” He murmurs as he kisses your nose. You roll your hips again and his spine straightens, capturing your lips in another kiss. “Or that.”
“So greedy.” He laughs and kisses you again, and you can tell he’s not really sure where to go from here as his grip begins to loosen on your hip. “Have you ever..?”
He shakes his head, and drops his forehead to your chest. You let the tips of your fingers lightly scrape against his scalp and he ‘hmms’ under his breath, enjoying the sensation but also hiding from you.
“Thats okay. We don’t have to do anything. I just want to be with you right now. Whatever that means.” He looks up and kisses you again. You know what this would mean, the final nail in the coffin for him.
Technically, its the emotional connection that the Jedi do not allow. The physical side of things is not forbidden, as long as there is no relationship, although most Jedi observe celibacy as a general rule. You have since you met him, it would have been impossible for you to have one without the other. 
The movement of your hips is not the problem for him, though. It’s the fact that you both know there is more here than just a physical attraction. You admitted it. This would be breaking the code.
You only care right now if he does.
“I want- Maker. I want to. This is-“ He talks and cuts himself off by kissing you, never finishing a sentence. You look up and laugh and he just kisses your throat, turning to kiss your neck when you look to the side. You stop laughing when you feel his arms wrap around you tighter and a slight scrape of his teeth against the spot that makes you shiver. He pulls back to look at you, and then does it again, kissing and scraping his teeth, biting experimentally.
You can tell he’s enjoying it, and he spends a while moving himself up and down your neck, finding all the little places that make you gasp and hum.
“Oh, Obi. Shit.” Your head drops to his shoulder and your hips start to move on their own. He keeps kissing your neck, starting to suck and bite in the spot he seems to have deemed his favourite. He moans against your skin, and a small fire in the pit of your stomach sparks and warms your entire body. You pull on his hair again, and his hips buck slightly.
“This is okay?” He says against you and you nod and roll your hips again.
“Yes. Yes.” He continues, and that same shiver goes up your spine.
“You are so soft.” His nose drags along your throat and your mouth drops open.
“Can I- Can I touch you?” You ask desperately and he pulls away from your skin, nudging your head up to find your eyes.
“You want to?” He seems genuinely curious, and you nod. Your hands come to his chest and you slide them up to his shoulders, bringing the two layers of robes off his shoulders slowly, giving him ample time to stop you. He helps to pull them off, and then you bring his hands to your shirt. His eyes widen a little at the thought, but you see him try to regain composure.
“Do you want to?” He grabs the hem of your shirt and fists the material.
“Please.” He breaths out and pulls your shirt over your head slowly, goosebumps appearing where his fingertips brush your skin. When the shirt finally comes off he lets his eyes trail along your now exposed skin, just a small bralette holding you from him. You lean back a little so both of his hands can find your ribs, and they run strong lines up and down your sides.
“So soft.” He repeats and you begin to melt into his lap.
You bring your hands to the hem of his shirt, and he clearly is not as patient as you, his own coming over the top and whipping the shirt over his head. You have seen him without his shirt before, sometimes after training he would tear it off before he disappears into his room and you would get a glimpse of his back, but now you were up close and could look as much as you want.
He was built; bigger than he looks under all those robes, and you run your hands over the hard muscle, wanting to remember the feeling of every inch. He keeps one hand on your rib cage and brings the other to your chin to kiss you again.
“You are beautiful.” He whispers, and your heart sparks at the compliment.
“So are you.” You return and he smiles into the kiss. Your hand finds the hem of his pants, fingertips dancing along the seam and he sucks in a deep breath. “We don’t have to do anything. Tell me if you want to stop, okay?”
“Have you done this? Before.” As much as you want to tell him no if only to make him relax, you can’t lie to him. You nod your head.
“Not for a while. Not since I met you.” This sparks something in his eye, and you would never have picked him for a possessive guy, but it seems he likes the idea of him being the reason you haven’t.
“I have not. I am not sure I know-“
“Anything you do is perfect. Just relax, okay? Let me make you feel good.” He tilts his head as you slide off him, and sits up a little to come with you. You just stop him with your hands on his thighs, and slip your fingers into the waistline of his pants.
You aren’t sure how you manage to be so patient with the way he’s looking at you - eyes wide and bottom lip between his teeth, but you wait. Wait for him to say stop, or to bring you back into his lap and change the direction. He does neither, and you pull ever so slightly, revealing skin you’ve never seen before. You tilt your head up at him and he just nods repeatedly, moving his hips in a silent plea.
“Oh, Maker. What do I d-” With another deep breath, his eyes flutter closed and then back open, trying to figure out if he wants to watch or just feel you. You slide his pants down a little more and you can see how hard he is already. You look up at him again, and he’s staring so intently that you feel he would have said something if he wanted you to stop. His energy is warm around you, like nothing you’ve ever felt and it is full of curiosity and heat. You pull his pants down past his knees.
Sliding in between his legs you bring your face closer to his length, and your breath is hot against his skin. His pants drop to his ankles and he quickly kicks them off.
You start slow, placing a kiss to the inside of his thigh, and his hips jolt in response. You laugh breathlessly, and decide there will be plenty of time to tease him later.
You were going to make this so good for him that he will never be able to think of anything else when he looks at you.
You start at his head, kissing him gently. Then, finding his eyes you lick a long stripe up him from base to tip. He strangles a moan, and his eyes never leave you as you take the tip of him into your mouth and suck gently.
“I-oh maker. Fuck.” You can see the way every part of his body relaxes under your manipulation, and a rush of heat floods your body. Something about Obi-Wan swearing, coming undone because of you makes your own arousal begin to grow, but you try to focus all your energy on him. You stay there for a while, gently sucking and letting your tongue swipe over him, enjoying the little moans he makes every time you do so.
When your sure he’s relaxed, you look up at him again and spit, bringing your hand up to coat his length, making it as wet as you can. His eyes roll back at the image, and every time your hand works him his hips buck to meet you.
You take him into your mouth and hollow your cheeks, letting him fuck your face as much as he wants. He was acting off pure instinct, it’s still slow and a little uncertain but he starts to go a little deeper when he feels you moan around his length, a wordless plea for him to take what he needs. A hand finds your hair, not to push you down but just to hold, a reminder of where he is. The other arm supports his weight as he no longer holds himself up, and you pull off of him after a few strokes, saliva coating your mouth.
“How does it feel?” His eyes are squeezed shut and his abs are flexing so hard he almost looks like he’s in pain. You don’t know why it didn’t occur to you before, but he’s probably also never had an orgasm. It makes you want to work even harder, make him feel even better, so you take him back inside your mouth before he answers.
“So go-ah! So good. Stars- You feel so good. How are you so good?” He’s completely lost in his own pleasure and it makes you feel all tingly in your stomach. You try to keep your eyes on him and work him faster, grip him harder as you push to get him over the edge. You keep pumping him in your hand as your mouth comes off him to catch your breath for a second.
“I can make you feel so much better.” You take him back into your mouth, and the sounds of him inside of you are only muffled by how loud he is, moaning your name and strangled cries every time he hits the back of your throat. Small tears start to form in your eyes but you keep going, every sound he makes only making you feel hotter. You can feel him everywhere - and when you start to take him as deep as you can, he hits the back of your throat once and he shudders.
“Wait! St-stop. Wait.” Immediately you pull off him, and you can see how fucking close he was, the tip of him leaking pre cum and his entire body shaking.
“What’s wrong? Are you ok?” He nods, trying to catch his breath. You wipe your mouth with your thumb, and slip it into your mouth wanting to savour the taste of him.
“Something feels - strange. I don’t know wh-” He’s breathing so hard it takes him a moment to get the words out in a way you understand - but you know. You know exactly what he’s going to say, and save him from his clear embarrassment when you lean up to whisper on his ear.
“Good strange? Or bad?”
“I can’t- good. Overwhelming; I can’t feel a-anything else.” He sounds a little worried, but the pleasure is evident in how he drags out his words. He’s worried because he can’t feel the familiar safety of the Force when his mind goes blank.
“It’s- it’s okay. I promise. Relax, okay? I’m right there with you.” He nods rapidly and even though he’s noticeably a little nervous his body scoots further off the edge, closer to your mouth. You smile and lean in, and he instantly falls right back into his building orgasm.
You work him hard and fast, swirling your tongue and taking him as deep as you can. He gets louder as you get quicker, and you can’t help but moan around him as he thrusts into you with less composure.
“Hol- yes, that’s- right there oh gods-“ His entire body shakes as he cums in your mouth. His orgasm takes all the strength in his body and he falls back, arm giving out as he flops onto the bed. He says your name over and over and it’s like it hits him in waves, you just keep pumping him into your mouth and taking whatever he gives you. His abs are flexing every time you take him into the back of your throat and the slight reaction as he stops moaning your name makes you slow down.
His hand comes over his abdomen and you watch as he begins to come back to his body, the rise and fall of his chest becoming a little more even as you slide him out of your mouth.
“Come here.” He says, his voice so low and thick that you move faster than you thought possible. You come up next to him, and gasp as his hands find your wrists and he pins you against the bed, both of you vertical on the bed and your head perfectly centre on the pillows. He looks over you, completely naked and kisses you deeply, his tongue sliding into your mouth. He was a quick learner. The taste of him is still on your tongue, and the mixture of his mouth makes your head spin.
“Was that okay?” You ask under him and he presses a short kiss to your lips and then laughs.
“You are joking, right? That was the most incredible thing I’ve ever felt.” You blush at the way he looks at you, completely enamoured. “I want to make you feel like that.” You freeze and all the blood in your body rushed to your core. A look of determination you’ve seen from training covers his expression.
“You don’t have to, don’t feel like ob-“
“Let me make you feel good.” He purrs your words from earlier in your ear and your eyes flutter closed as he pulls your pants down your legs. He leaves your underpants on, and shifts so his body is between your legs. He hangs above you, and the way his eyes drop down to your underwear and slowly work their way back up to your face makes you feel hot all over. He stays like that, above you as he does something you can only describe as admiring you.
One of his hands brushes over your stomach, fingers tracing aimless lines along your skin. You try to stay as still as possible, but the way he looks at you, how he runs his hands so so close to the hem of your underwear, and then slide away to explore somewhere else. It isn’t long until your squirming underneath him.
“Please, Obi-Wan.” He blinks a couple times, focusing back on what he was doing.
“Sorry. Your beautiful.” He leans down to press a kiss to your stomach, and then copies what you did to him, moving down your body, kissing your thighs and it making your back arch. “Show me.”
“Wh-what do you want to do?” He looks up at you and, after seeing you smile at him encouragingly, slowly drags your underpants down your legs, making sure his fingertips touch all the exposed skin they can on the way. Then he lays down between your legs, and looks up at you, awaiting instruction. “Fuck. O-okay.”
You open your legs a little more and let your hand tangle in his hair. He leans into that touch, and he ‘hmms’ again as you run your fingertips through it. He kisses your thighs again, and his tongue darts out to lick the skin there a little bit. You realise he’s still waiting.
“Just- anything. Please touch me.”
“Hmm. You never were a good teacher.” Your jaw drops open and you laugh without making a sound, way too distracted with how sexy he looks between your legs.
“Give me your hand.” He does as you ask, and you run his hand down over your stomach. His hands are softer than you thought, and when you bring one of his fingers over your clit, you let out a long moan of his name.
You show him how you would touch yourself, but somehow it feels a hundred times better with his hand. He follows your motions and you let go, fisting the blankets as he copies you. It takes him a moment but he never takes his eyes off you, watching as each time he touches you right your body reacts, and faster than you were prepared for he starts to build a perfect pattern.
“Like this?” He applies more pressure and you arch further off the bed. Of course he would be a fast learner. You feel him move closer, his breath hot on your arousal. You nod frantically and moan in a loud, long release. “What about this?”
“Oh fuck! Yes, just like that!” He flicks his tongue over your clit. You don’t remember a time you’ve been this sensitive so fast, but then again you’ve never had someone as incredible as Obi-Wan Kenobi between your legs. He swirls his tongue in the same pattern he was creating with his fingers and the feeling intensifies, your nerve endings buzzing with pleasure.
“Need more. Wanna feel you.” You break out between gasps and he unfortunately takes his expert mouth off you to answer.
“Okay, darling. Show me, okay?” He brings his hand up again and you quickly bring two of his fingers into your mouth and suck on them. He never takes his eyes of you, the image of you sucking his cock earlier surely running through his mind. You run his hand back down and guide them to your entrance and he slides them into you.
“Move them- oh, shit - up. Just a little.” You prop yourself up on your forearms but your head drops back as he curls his fingers inside you, and you practically sob when he does it again while returning his mouth to your clit.
He starts slow, and you are too enveloped in your own pleasure to give him instructions, but it’s like he reads your body. You both work so in sync with each other on the battle field and in meetings, it makes sense he would be able to give you exactly what you were so desperate for without having to speak. He can feel every time he does in the right way, when his tongue and his fingers sync up, and he chases the form every time.
Once he figures out a pattern that makes you squirm he goes faster. The pace makes your eyes roll in the back of your head thinking about how good he makes you, and only you, feel.
“Right there. Oh m-“ He takes your clit into his mouth and sucks. If you thought he was loud, you were definitely louder as you cry out, begging him not to stop.
“So- stars; so pretty.” He says and you can feel the heat of his words on your wetness. “And so wet. For me?”
“Yes. Always for you.” He groans and goes faster and faster, his entire mouth exploring the taste of you while still hitting that spot that makes you cry out.
“So fucking warm. Thought about this - feel perfect.” The lewdness of his words make your legs begin to shake and you can’t see - can’t feel anything but the earth shattering sensation filling every part of your body.
Pleasure builds faster than ever and you can’t prepare for how hard you cum in his mouth. Everything flashes in sparkles of heat and melts your mind until you can’t think - pulling his hair and riding his face through your pleasure.
Your leg muscles were sore already and you manage to open your eyes to see your thighs have seized up around his head, keeping him in place. He doesn’t seem to mind, and although he has taken his fingers out of you his mouth remains, aimlessly tasting you seemingly for his own enjoyment. He has no idea the effect he’s having on you, and his tongue brushes over your clit occasionally, the overstimulation making your lungs burn.
“Oh Maker. Obi please come here.” You say, and your shakey legs drop open from his head. He looks up at you, and takes a final taste of your pussy before crawling up your body, kissing you.
“You taste sweet.” He whispers into your mouth. There’s something about how dirty the words are mixed with how proper and polite he always is that makes your legs shake for a different reason, and you pull him down next to you, curling your body into his.
“You are amazing.” It’s his turn to blush, and you see a little red come across his cheeks in the dim light of the room.
“Hardly in comparison, my love.” Your heart is slamming in your ears. That was your favourite nickname, you think. He brushes the hair out of your face, a finger tucking it behind your ear so he can see you better.
“Can you stay?” He shouldn’t. You know he shouldn’t, because if anyone sees him leaving tomorrow everything you both said at the council meeting will be worthless.
“Of course I will stay. As long as you want me to.” You smile into his neck as you bury your face there.
“I want you all the time.”
“Then I will stay all the time.” You both smile, enjoying the simplicity of this moment, knowing it will not last.
“We don’t have to talk about it right now, okay?” You can sense his worry - and you are relieved you sense no regret like you were so sure he would feel. His muscles relax under your words and he nods, pulling your back against his chest so you can feel his slowing heart beat. Somehow - as if it was possible, you feel more connected to him that before. Your energies were always intertwined, but now it’s like they were fused. You could still tell who was who, and they could be taken apart, but together they formed something greater - stronger; and you knew he could feel it too.
You both fall asleep soon after, knowing tomorrow will bring forward a thousand new challenges, with a million new consequences.
You don’t care.
The world could burn down around you, and you would happily watch it, as long as you could do so in his arms. There will be nothing they can take, nothing they can say that will diminish how you feel, and no Jedi Order could convince either of you that what you felt for each other was wrong.
If anything, it made you stronger, and maybe one day you could prove it to them.
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lacontroller1991 · 1 year
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Boxes of Dye and Boxes of Tea (Obi-Wan Kenobi x F!Reader)
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Main Master List || Star Wars Master List
Warnings: Obi-Wan being jealous, Obi-Wan being insecure (but not for long), one sexual comment (18+ please), slight age gap (reader is of legal age)
Word Count: 1.2k
Author's Note: I switch between POVs a lot in this, each POV switch is noted by a series of dashes. Anywho, enjoy!
==========
One of the defining rules of the Jedi Code is to be humble. Humble about your life, your wardrobe, your attitude and your appearance. It is also one of the defining rules of the Jedi Code to not form romantic attachments to anyone, let alone someone in the order and Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi? He broke both. It’s not like he could control who he loves, after all, underneath the worn armor, robes, and tunics, he is human. And with being human comes human emotions like lust, love, jealousy, insecurities. 
Despite being trained in the ways of suppressing his emotions so as to not let them cloud his judgment, nothing could have trained him for the day that he sees you; his secret, younger, lover with a male about half his age. Normally, it doesn’t bother Obi-Wan who you talk to because he’s not normally a jealous guy, but after one snide comment from Anakin about the gray in his hair, it has Obi-Wan questioning everything, and seeing you talking with someone half his age? Well, Obi-Wan can’t help but to feel jealous and insecure.
Turning on his heel rapidly, Obi-Wan narrowly dodges your line of sight and rushes down the numerous halls towards his chambers as doubt clouds his mind. Would you leave him for that guy? Is he too old for you? Do you need someone more youthful to keep up with you? The questions storm in his mind as he looks over his appearance. He’s still in great shape, but he does note that he looks more exhausted than normal and his hair is starting to show his years of… wisdom. Sighing in annoyance, Obi-Wan frowns at his appearance. Just how can you find him attractive? Picking up a book, he tries to focus on the words but to no avail.
With a pep in your step, you all but skip towards Obi-Wan’s quarters, a present in your hand. After meeting up with your friend who grows tea leaves, you finally collected a large enough tea collection that will hopefully last Obi-Wan’s next upcoming mission.
Knocking on the door, you quickly hide the present under your robe and put a smile on your face as the door slides open, revealing a somber Obi-Wan with wet hair, causing your smile to turn into a frown of concern. “Obi? What’s wrong?”
—---------
Hearing the knock of his door, Obi-Wan cringes slightly knowing that it’s you on the other side. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see you, it’s more of the fact that he doesn’t want to be seen by you, but still, he heads toward the door and opens it, revealing you standing there with a smile on your face that quickly turns into a frown. “Obi? What’s wrong?” Sighing, he backs away from the door as you hesitantly walk into his room, closing the door behind you, not really sure how to handle the man in front of you. “Did the Council say something? Are you going on a mission sooner than we thought?”
“No, little one. It’s nothing. I’ve just been a bit lost in my head today, that’s all.” Seeming to not buy his excuse, he watches as you sit yourself down on his bed, arms still clasped together in your robe. 
“You can’t fool me, Obi. What’s really going on?” Normally, your forthrightness is admirable, but now, he’s seriously disliking it.
—-------
“I’ve just been feeling a little…. insecure, I guess.” You quirk up an eyebrow as you look around his room, trying to find something, anything that will give you a clue and then you spot it just lightly poking out of the trashcan in his refresher. It’s hardly noticeable, but you’re a female, you know what a box of hair dye looks like. Looking back over your lover, you notice that only two spots are freshly dyed, given with how unblended they are. The spots right above his ears. The spots where gray streaks begin. It suddenly clicks in your mind. 
Without revealing the present, you remove your cloak from your body and move to stand in front of him. “Why are you dying your hair?”
—-------
Obi-Wan lets out a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood, but you remain still, trying to comprehend. Letting out a sigh, Obi-Wan’s hands reach up for your hips and drag you into him while your hands move to his scalp, lightly running careful fingertips through his damp locks as he loses himself in the feeling. “Anakin pointed out that my hair is getting more gray and that I’m looking older and I guess I just wanted to remain youthful for you.” He’s embarrassed to admit it in fear that you’ll laugh at him, but instead, he feels a feather soft kiss against the crown of his damp head.
“Oh Obi-Wan, my handsome, handsome man, please don’t change your looks for me. I don’t care what you look like. I love you for you. I love your humor, your wisdom, your sarcasm, your penchant for tea, the way you call me ‘darling’ or ‘my love’,  and the way you hold me in your arms at night. I love you as a lover and I admire you as a Jedi. Besides, obviously you’re going to age slightly. You’re fighting in a war and not to mention, I’m sure training Anakin definitely wasn’t stress free, so I really wouldn’t worry about a couple of pieces of hair.” Obi-Wan smiles softly at your words as you continue to roam your hands throughout his hair, lighting scratching his scalp.
“You’re right darling. I guess it came over me because I saw you with that one guy in the hall, who happens to be your age.”
“Who, Sid? He was only giving me something that I asked for,” Obi-Wan watches as you move your robe to the side and reveal a wrapped box. Turning around, you hand the box to Obi-Wan as you take a seat next to him. “Go ahead and open it.”
“Darling, you shouldn’t have.” Obi-Wan has told you numerous times to not get him any sort of gifts, but you, ever being thoughtful, never listens. Tearing the paper off, he looks down at the box before removing the lid and spotting a variety of tea bags, and a lot of them. “Tea?”
“Yeah, I spent some time collecting a variety and Sid had the last ones I was looking for. I figured that I could make you something before your next mission and hopefully it’ll last.”
“This is so kind of you.” He sets the box to the side and brings you in for a hug, feeling foolish about overreacting to something that he didn’t know.
“Anything for you, my love. And you wanna know something?” He pulls away and makes eye contact with you, a mischievous grin gracing your lips.
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re going to say something inappropriate?”
“Because you know me so well,” you lean forward, your hands sliding up his thighs ever so slightly. “I really, really love your hair the way it is. I especially love tugging onto it while we make sweet sweet love.” And if Obi-Wan wasn’t flustered before, he definitely is now.
=fin=
General Tag List: @marvelousmermaid @himbovillain-anon @babblydrabbly @a-reader-and-a-writer @fairchildflag @tavners
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starfirekvg · 1 year
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Anakin Skywalker is the reason why I'm alive but this fanart and picture is the reason why I keep going🙏🏼
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happy-beeeps · 8 months
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for the prompt list you just reblogged, what about "i didn't sign up for this" with either obi-wan kenobi or the bad batcher of your choice?
I’m on the run (with you my sweet love)
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Pairing: obi-wan x reader
WC: 1.2k
Summary: after hearing that obi-wan is living in exile, you do your best to find him, determined to live out your lives together as you’d dreamed.
Suggested listening: Chemtrails over the country club by Lana Del Rey
A/N: IM SO BAD AT ANSWERING OH MY GOD. Thank you for the request I’m so excited!!! tbh, I struggled with this so hard because I physically cannot give Obi-Wan an angsty situation but we made it work hehehe. Obi-Wan is both my fav Star Wars man (which surprises people sometimes) and one of the characters I write the least, so this was SO fun! Sorry it’s so short, but I plan on writing much more for him soon!❤️🫶🥰
The house was small, really just a small kitchenette and living space with a bed nook off to the side. Like all houses in the dune sea, it was low in the ground, slatted windows up high on the walls to offer light with as little heat as possible. You wouldn’t call it nice by any means, not compared to what you’ve lived in before, but it had a certain coziness that had excited you. You had flushed out your credits just as soon as Bail had told you of Obi-Wan’s exile, and gotten yourself on the first ship to Mos Eisley that you could. The house had been easy enough to find, there were plenty of people in Mos Eisley eager to sell property to someone, particularly when that someone came with a sack of credits.
The hard part was finding Obi-Wan.
You spent the morning in the center of Mos Eisley, gathering supplies and what small furnishings you could transport for your new home, listening intently for anything. Any word of a newcomer, any whispers of the fall of the Jedi. Unfortunately (or fortunately) no one said anything.
Beru and Owen were the obvious next choice, and they came with much greater information than you had anticipated. You hadn’t met Anakin’s brother and sister-in-law before, but you had seen holos of them during your nights in with Padmé. Owen had been… reluctant to talk to you, but Beru had quickly pointed you in the direction of the cave Obi-Wan had been hiding out in the past few rotations, not terribly far from your home or the Larrs homestead.
Which is how you found yourself here, at the mouth of a cave, a fabric shawl draped carefully over your shoulders to protect as much of you as possible from the blazing Tatooine suns.
It was easy to walk into, and the dark walls and open space gave the whole space a chill in the air that hung itself uncomfortably around your shoulders. He wasn’t here, but there were signs of him present. A rucksack with some rations and credits, his robes and tunic–carefully folded in a pile resting on a large stone, and a small lamp. You ran your hands down the soft fabric of the robe, before picking it up and bringing it close to you. It smelled just like him, and for the first moment in what felt like a millenia, you let yourself ache in your chest. You had missed him something awful, worried something awful. When Padmé had explained what had happened, what he would have to do, you had feared the worst.
When none of them came back, you had all but accepted it.
“Don’t move.”
The voice that came from the cave mouth was cold and cautious, strong and intimidating. It was also home.
“Ben,” you whispered, using the nickname you had given him some night who knows how many moons ago, hoping to show him you were you. You were here.
You removed the shawl slowly as he stepped out of the mouth of the cave, his form no longer silhouetted against the blinding sun. His hair was looking slightly ragged, the tunic he wore now hung awkwardly on his frame–it must’ve been a loan from Owen you decided.
“Is it really you?” he asked, walking up to you cautiously, moving slowly as if you were made of mist that would simply vanish if he got too close. The sun had already begun to bring out even more freckles across his skin, growing ruddy with exposure.
“I’m here to take you home with me,” you murmured, closing the gap between the two of you and pulling him close to you, one hand cradling the back of his head while he pressed soft kisses into the crook of your neck.
“You can’t, I have to stay here. I can’t return to Coruscant with you.”
You pulled back for a moment, brushing the hair away from his face, “who said anything about Coruscant?” Before he could answer, you pressed your lips to his, capturing him in a kiss meant to soothe yourself and reassure him. He was alive. You were here. The rest you could figure out together.
* * *
You hadn’t said much on the walk back to your home, hadn’t been able to. Obi-Wan refused to let go of you, his hand lingering on a spot on your body at any moment. It was as if he was finally allowing himself these open, semi-public touches at last, though you knew the price of this freedom had been costly.
When you approached your home, you led him down to the living quarters and quickly worked at getting a small iced tea ready while he settled in. Well, attempted to settle.
“You bought this? Here?”
“You think I’d rent? In this economy?” You scoffed, and he gave you a lighthearted smile in return as you guided him towards the small sofa in the middle of the room. “I’ve only been here a few rotations, been looking for you,” you moved to settle beside him, knees clinking into one another with a familiarity you had been longing for. “You’re a hard man to find Master Kenobi.”
“I didn’t realize you’d be looking,” he reached over to place a hand on your cheek, steadying himself against you for a moment. It had taken you the better part of the afternoon to get from the cave to your home, and your living room was now painted in the orange and magenta hues of the setting suns, low light making him look even softer than you had imagined. “To be quite honest, I feared you’d assumed the worst.”
“Then you don’t know me at all.”
He pulled your head closer to him, bringing his forehead to yours in a sweet, intimate gesture. “I cannot put you in danger, I will not. You’re a senator, you cannot give up your life for me. You didn’t sign up for this.”
“I’m more than just a senator you know,” you breathed, your eyes fluttering open to look into his while his breath hitched in his throat, “as per that night on Chandrila, I’m your wife. You think I don’t want to be here? That I didn’t sign up for this? I said "till death”, Kenobi, and I meant it.”
“I couldn’t contact you, I’ve had to close myself off to the Force since arriving. I’ve lost so much. I cannot lose you dearest.”
You moved closer to him to bridge the gap between your mouths again, breathing a simple, “you’ll never have to,” as you did. This time you kissed him with the fervor and passion of a woman coming home, and he drank you in like a man lost in a desert. Which, you suppose he was. Here was your Obi-Wan, your Ben, wrapped in your arms and in your home for as long as you’d like. You were free to press yourself against his freckled chest and trace the starlight colored scars across his skin. You could live in the serendipitous bliss of him, his smell of caf and leather and something woody, the kind way he carried himself.
It had cost you both everything, had cost the Republic, but at last you were free to be Obi-Wan Kenobi’s wife in more than just secrecy, your sanctuary guarded by the twin suns of Tatooine.
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im-a-wonderling · 8 months
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Rescue Me, Part 1 ~ Obi-Wan Kenobi
I started writing this in August of 2022. Four rewrites later, I’m posting it now in August of 2023. Shoutout to @writing-on-the-wahl​ for inspiring me and helping me smooth this over as well as to my brother for supplying all the military/niche Star Wars knowledge I needed. 
Summary: A simple mission takes a turn, and suddenly Y/N has to work carefully with Master Kenobi to ensure they both survive. 
Warnings: Satine doesn’t exist, mentions of mistreatment, mentions of Pong Krell (yes, this is a warning, Clone Wars fans get it. If you haven’t watched Clone Wars, you should still be able to understand this fic) 
Word count: 7.5k
Rescue Me masterlist
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Never in my entire life had I been so cold.
The cold sucked all the Force-given agility from my limbs, numbness spreading from my toes to my knees. I could feel the hairs inside my nostrils freezing, and every gasp of air burned its way down my throat and into my lungs. My nose felt moments away from falling off my face altogether. 
There was no blushing horizon, no boulders or trees visible, no dynamic landscape whatsoever. There wasn’t even a way to discern where the sky ended and the land began. 
 It was just white. 
The pelting snow obstructed everything from view, keeping me unaware of anything unless it was two feet from my face. For all I knew, we could’ve been walking in circles. 
The very idea set my teeth on edge, and I quickly attempted some deep breaths to calm myself down. I kept pushing forward, practically dragging Master Kenobi along through the snow that had reached my knees.
It was because of this blasted snow that he hadn’t seen the D’oemir bear trap until its metal jaws closed around his foot. I’d been busy studying the defenses of the Separatist base when a shout of pain came from behind me, alerting the Separatists of our presence and our location. 
What had started as a simple scouting mission was now a fight for survival.
I took more deep breaths, trying to lean on the Force for peace, just as I’d always been taught. And yet, like every other time I tried, the mystical energy seemed muted, like it’d been covered in a blanket to hide it from view. For all intents and purposes, Master Kenobi and I were alone. 
As if the planet somehow eavesdropped on my thoughts, the wind picked up, sending an extra bite of pain through my exposed cheeks. “How much farther to the ship?!” I yelled in an endeavor to be heard, holding tighter to the arm slung around my neck. 
Master Kenobi didn’t answer, and my heart sank. We weren’t even close then. 
A particularly brutal gust of wind buffeted past us, nearly pushing us backwards. 
"We can't go on much further!" I shouted. "Master, I don't think we're going to make it!"
Master Kenobi held up his free hand, holding it up to block the gale from his face. His lips moved, but the sound coming from them was lost.
"What did you say?!" 
He leaned in, positioning his lips right beside my ear. "You need to get yourself to the ship!"
A blast of anger imploded in my insides, momentarily warming me up. "I'm not leaving you!" Another squall of wind nearly sent us toppling over. 
"There's no point in both of us being stuck out here when you can save yourself!" Master Kenobi pulled his arm, unwinding it from its position around my neck.
I fixed him with a glare and gripped his arm tighter. "I'm not deserting you!" I didn’t know what exactly the council would do if I showed up on Coruscant without Master Kenobi, but I knew the judgment would be swift and severe. 
Master Kenobi's exasperation grew as well. "I'm your master, you need to do as I say!"
Yet another gust of wind barreled past us, breaking the conversation and forcing us to brace ourselves. 
"The only other shelter for miles is the base, and we can't go back there!" I said, once the wind returned to its previous howling intensity. “So we have to find some other means of staying warm!”
Master Kenobi straightened, studying our surroundings. I tried not to roll my eyes. There was nothing to see except wind, snow, and desperation, yet he surveyed it all with great care. Even a gaze as hypercritical as Master Kenobi’s wouldn’t be able to conjure something from nothing. 
Suddenly, Master Kenobi twisted around, looking behind us. A strange light jumped forth in his eyes. He mumbled something, but the wind blew it away. 
"What?!"
"That way!" he shouted, pointing off to the side. 
"What about that way?!"
Master Kenobi still didn't answer. He took a step in the indicated direction and would've fallen, had I not shifted to take the weight. 
I glanced down at his injury. The sight of the dried blood that long since had soaked through his boot sent my stomach flipping. Ironically, the only thing keeping him from bleeding out was the same infernal cold that would kill us if we were exposed much longer. 
We didn’t have much time.
"C'mon!" he yelled, bringing me out of my thoughts with an impatient look thrown at me. 
"Where are we going?!" 
"There's a bunker this way, I've been in it before!"
I stared at him warily. "How do you know where it is?! I can’t see a thing!"
"I just know!”
He just knows, I thought sourly. The almighty Jedi master in his boundless knowledge just knew everything about everything.
An irritated grunt left my lips. Thankfully, the wind covered up my defiance, and my mental shields kept any doubt from spilling over. Well, I guess it doesn’t matter where we freeze, I thought to myself grimly before obeying Master Kenobi. 
“Just keep heading towards the mountain!” 
Mountain?
I glanced around, checking to see if a mountain had somehow snuck past me since the first time I’d looked around. But no, the terrain was the same.
“What mountain?” I shouted back.
Master Kenobi shut his eyes for a moment, and I couldn’t tell if it was due to exasperation or pain. “Reach out with the Force, and you can feel it!”
The Force? As some sort of land radar?
I wanted to scoff, to argue with him. But while giving into my doubts seemed appealing, I knew Master Kenobi would still be assessing every move I made. So I pushed on, fighting the snow and the wind for every step of distance covered. What felt like an eternity later, Master Kenobi reached out his free hand to point ahead of us. “Look, there it is!”
I peered around us, feeling the snowflakes stuck in my lashes. “I don’t–”
“Just keep going!” Master Kenobi urged.
I’m never leaving Coruscant again, I promised myself with every step. The numerous threats and corrupt politicians would be manageable, especially because death would likely come in a swifter and more exciting package. Like poison. Or a dramatic duel to the death. Not something as rudimentary as snow.
To my utter surprise, I felt the ground underneath us start to slope upwards. Could I really be at the foot of a mountain and not see it? I squinted in the direction of the slope and caught sight of hits of gray mixed in with the white. 
Son of a mudscuffer, there really was a mountain. 
Master Kenobi brought the hand that wasn’t around my neck to his mouth, tearing his glove off with his teeth. Fingers free, he pressed his hand to the snowy rock.
“Welcome, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” an automatic voice said. The wall of rock slid to the side, revealing a door that opened.
A sudden burst of heat came from the doorway, and I nearly lost my grasp on Master Kenobi as I stumbled through the doorway, leaning against the wall immediately inside. Clearly aware of my exhaustion, Master Kenobi leaned his weight away from me and up against the wall as the door closed behind us.
The roaring of the wind dulled, making me feel as if someone had stuffed earplugs into my ears. But I couldn’t make myself care about that.
The delicious warmth caressed my face, like flickering flames running their soft, welcoming hands up and down my skin. I started to regain feeling in the tips of my ears and my nose. 
Then the burning started. 
The flames grew hotter, setting my skin on fire. It itched. I could feel my joints getting stiffer and stiffer as parts of my body started to swell. The heat that I’d so desperately craved a few moments ago was proving to be just as dangerous as the chill.
“What the–” Master Kenobi said, raising his rapidly puffing fingers. 
“We’re warming up too fast,” I gasped, picturing a description from a med book I’d read once, accompanied with gruesome pictures I didn’t want to recreate. “We have to slow down the temperature change. Is there a refresher in this place?”
Master Kenobi stepped forward to show me the way, and he immediately pitched forward, losing his balance.
My arms shot out, grabbing him before he could fully fall to the floor. “Silly old man,” I said through gritted teeth as I began to drag him once more. 
“I’m not that much older than you,” Master Kenobi bit back before pointing down the hallway with his free hand. Wordlessly, I followed his direction. Scorching pain started where his arm met the skin of my neck, but I only held him tighter as I focused on getting us to the refresher. Master Kenobi tried to help, leaning some of his weight against the wall as we passed, but it didn’t make much of a difference. “Last door on the left,” he panted.
I slammed my hand against the pad, and the door slid open.
The revealed quarters could barely be called a refresher. It wasn’t even big enough for a Wookie to hide in. Would Master Kenobi and I even fit? 
Only one way to find out.
I lowered him to the floor and quickly turned the water on. “We have to get in.” I jerked my hat off, shrugging out of my coat. “If we take too long, our hearts are going to fail.” I pulled off my overtunic, cursing the number of layers I had on. After getting the undertunic off as well, the exposed skin of my arms and stomach started to prickle painfully. It grew even worse when my pants came off, leaving nothing to protect my skin from the heat except a pair of tight undershorts and the fabric binding my chest. All I wanted to do was get under the stream of water for some relief. 
I stepped towards the refresher, my foot touching the water as I glanced over at the master.
Master Kenobi’s shoes lay discarded as his fingers fumbled with the fastenings of his coat. He saw me watching him. “Get under the water!”
I didn’t hesitate, crouching in front of him, clumsily pulling at the fastenings of his coat. By some miracle, they opened, and I tugged the coat off.
“Get under the water!” Master Kenobi ordered, but I ignored him, fisting his overtunic in my stiff hands. “Leave me!”
I met his eyes, ignoring the fire ants crawling all over my skin. “Arms up.”
“Y/N-”
“The more difficult you make this, the longer it will take for me to get in the refresher,” I barked. “Arms up.”
Looking extremely vexed, Master Kenobi finally sat forward, lifting his arms to allow the overtunic to be tugged over his head. I tossed it to the side, getting to work unwrapping his undertunic. He shifted his weight, hooking his thumbs into his pants and pulling them down his legs. I pulled them off, discarding them as well.
Then I stared down at his body, a new conundrum taunting me.
Master Kenobi’s frame far exceeded mine in size, and it was riddled with heavy muscle. The refresher was barely big enough for us to stand in it together, so he couldn’t crawl in and sit on the floor. But how was I supposed to get him into a standing position and into the refresher? 
“Go.” Master Kenobi’s shove was far from gentle. “Get in.”
I grit my teeth. “I told you,” I learned forward, hooking my arms under his armpits, “I’m not leaving you.”
“You are my padawan, and you will listen to–”
I hoisted, trying to pull Master Kenobi up. He barely budged.
“–me because I am your–”
I tried again and failed again.
“–master–”
I screwed up my face, shutting my eyes and summoning every last bit of strength I had.
Master Kenobi’s body lifted, his arms wrapping around me as he let out an alarmed yelp.
For a moment, satisfaction wracked through my core…but I’d underestimated how much momentum we’d generated.
I stumbled backwards, my arms wrapped around a toned torso and heavy arms wrapped around my shoulder. The stream of water hit my back, it’s chill making me gasp. Then my back collided with the wall, just before a body slammed against mine, knocking all the air from my lungs.
My eyes flew open, and all I could see was Master Kenobi.
His usually voluminous hair stuck to his head as water ran down in torrents. His lips, surrounded by his overgrown beard, were parted, and his chilly blue eyes were wide.
I shoved him away, forcing him to catch his balance by bracing himself on the wall opposite the refresher head. Unfortunately, the refresher was so small, if I wanted to, I’d still be able to place my palm on his chest without even straightening my arm. The tempo of my heart hastened, the little pitter-patter sounding akin to quickening footsteps. What my heart barreled towards, I didn’t know, but my body seemed to.
A shiver ran up my spine, causing me to tremble. 
“Are you alright?” 
“S’cold,” I said shortly. 
“I believe that’s the point,” Master Kenobi shot back. Despite the humor in his comment, I couldn’t find any in his expression, not even so much as an upturn of his mouth. His face was a hard slab of stony displeasure. 
Standing here in a refresher with Master Obi-wan Kenobi in nothing but my undergarments was not my idea of a good time either, but it was better than freezing to death. 
“Next time,” he grunted, “you’d better get in the refresher first.” 
Nevermind.
Master Kenobi pursed his lips, still looking upset. “I’m not solely charged with teaching you–.” 
“I get it.” The impertinent words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.
Master Kenobi’s face spoke of vexation, like it always did when he was interrupted. “You are not just my student, you are my ward. I am responsible for you, so when I tell you to save yourself, you are to listen, do you understand?”
I hated that he was talking to me like I was a child. I may not have been his padawan for longer than a week, but I wasn’t a youngling.
“It is not a hard concept to grasp.” His tone danced between stern and impatient.
I remained silent, twisting the refresher dial to make the water slightly warmer and keeping my face impassive as I’d always been told. But his words only fed the fiery furnace roaring inside me.
The crease between Master Kenobi’s eyebrows flattened. “You’re angry.”
My cheeks heated up. I quickly shoved the rage down, frustrated that it had momentarily broken through my mental shields and bled through my Force signature. My previous master had been able to harness the Force to hide his emotions as easily as breathing. I tried to do the same, but the Force rarely allied itself with me.
“I understand,” I said as evenly as possible, keeping my eyes averted and my temper in strong hand. “I'm just a padawan. You're the master.”
“There is no ‘just a padawan’,” Master Kenobi interupted. “Being a padawan is just as crucial a part of the Jedi cycle as being a master.”
I barely withheld my huff as I turned the water slightly warmer again. I didn’t need any Jedi propaganda about the value of life and each stage of it. 
“You’re angrier.”
I quickly raised my mental shields again, cursing them for continually breaking down.
“Tell me why you’re angry.”
I eyed Master Kenobi warily. To discuss this with him was wrong, but to disobey a direct order from my master was even worse. 
“Y/N-” he began, and I snapped. 
“Do you think I’m stupid?” I barked. “That I don’t know this mission is a test? If I show up on Coruscant without you, the council will assume I’ve followed in Master Krell’s footsteps and execute me.”
“Why would you be executed?” 
“Master Krell was,” I said with gritted teeth. “A padawan stands in their master’s shadow, don’t they?”
His mouth turned down in a deep frown. “You haven't gone over to the dark side and killed scores of clones.”
“And yet if the council trusted me, we wouldn't be here on a so-called surveillance mission!” Master Kenobi didn’t immediately reply, watching me, waiting for more answers. I lifted my hands to pull the pins out of my bun, letting my hair fall. My outrage cooled slightly. “Look,” I set the pins off to the side, “saving myself doesn’t do me any good here. Can we leave it at that?”
Master Kenobi didn’t seem to catch the hint. “No.” 
I lifted my eyes to the ceiling. The more my irritation grew, the more he questioned me, making my irritation rise even further. It was an endless cycle.
“You're frustrated.”
I slammed my mental shields back into place.
Master Kenobi tilted his head. “Why do you try to hide your emotions from me? 
Distantly, I knew the more anger I showed, the more likely I was going to get into trouble, but when there’s enough heat to make the pot of boiling water froth and overflow, slamming the lid down only worked for so long. “If you want to quiz me on the Jedi Code, can it wait until we’re back on Coruscant?” 
“No, it can’t.”
I wanted to scream.
“You’re getting angrier.”
Gripping the reins of my temper, I yanked them back so hard, my body hit the wall of the refresher.  “Why do you care?” I bit back.
“Because only a Sith tries to hide their true feelings.” He looked me directly in the eyes. “Are you a Sith?”
It was a natural thing to ask, yet the question still felt like a hammer between the eyes. 
No! I wanted to scream. Of course not! How could you think such a thing?!
But as I looked into Master Kenobi’s grave expression, a small trickle of doubt started.
Master Kenobi wouldn’t lie. It was against his character and offered him no advantage here. If hiding emotions was a component of the Code of the Sith instead of the Jedi Code…
Pong Krell was my master. As his padawan, I was expected to follow his lead and take his teachings to heart. To be a padawan was to be molded. Master Krell abandoned the Jedi Code, lost his respect for life, regardless of whose it was, and started ending lives instead of saving them. How long ago had he chosen the dark side? And how long had he been molding me the wrong way?
Maybe…maybe I didn’t know how to be a Jedi at all.
Thoughts started swirling in my brain, picking up speed until they were so fast, I couldn’t catch hold of them.
“You don’t want to be one,” Master Kenobi said softly, more to himself than to me. “And you’re worried you are.”
I almost went to reinforce my mental shields, but if that was truly the method of a Sith…perhaps my own impulses were untrustworthy. “I’m so confused,” I managed to say. 
“Why are you trying to hide?” Master Kenobi asked, slowly and clearly. I considered him, no longer with skepticism or a wild need to prove myself, but to see him as he was.
Tall. Pale. Strong-browed. Sturdy-shouldered. Piercingly blue-eyed. Hair charmingly tousled. Mouth sternly set. 
All of it whispered of forbearance. 
I felt it then, deep within myself. A push to speak.
“Because Master Krell told me to,” I mumbled. “He…he said my thoughts were too loud, so…he taught me to conceal them.”
Master Kenobi’s mouth opened and closed, producing no sound as he stared at me. Finally, he closed his eyes, looking pained. “I didn’t realize that his teachings were so corrupt.”
I blinked at him. “What?”
Blue eyes rested on my face, striking me with soft wisdom. “I am sorry. Krell’s failings should’ve been spotted long before they were.”
I nearly gaped at him, discomfort coursing through me as my skin started prickling again. A master, apologizing to a padawan? It wasn’t seemly. 
“His failings?” I repeated.
Master Kenobi squared his shoulders. “To be a master is to be your padawan’s strength so you can aid them in their weakness. To protect them, to respect them, to build their confidence.” Master Kenobi’s eyes turned sad. “Did Krell do that for you?”
I thought I felt bare already, but Master Kenobi’s question stripped me completely. To ask for my opinion…it felt wrong. So wrong, that I couldn’t even fathom giving it. I crossed my arms, bowing my head to let my hair fall forward like a curtain. I stared at the drain at our feet, wishing I could melt and slide away with the water.
A hand rested on my shoulder, calluses gently scraping against my skin.  
I started to lean away from it, but I froze when I looked up, coming face-to-face with the fiery resolution in Master Kenobi’s face. “Now that you are with me, things will be different.” Master Kenobi’s hand squeezed my shoulder. 
A simple gesture. A kind one. 
Different, Master Kenobi said, did I dare to hope it could even be better? 
I immediately buried the hope in an avalanche of doubt. My display of emotion and insubordination surely warranted chastising at some point, as neither of them were signs of a competent Jedi. He was waiting. He would scold me for my actions at a later date, surely. 
Yet no trace of Master Kenobi’s displeasure remained in his face. The moments that passed were only filled with the sounds of water hitting the refresher floor.
My body still felt too big for my skin, like my skin was straining to stay together, but my skin no longer burned. I reached over, turning the dial farther, and the water could finally be called warm. 
A small sigh sounded, and Master Kenobi leaned his head against the refresher wall, his eyes closed. Even with his slumped posture, the ends of his hair brushed his shoulders. With the rapid succession of our last few missions, neither one of us had much time for personal grooming, even by Jedi standards. Judging by the way he’d been absentmindedly brushing his hair out of his face these past few days, it was far past the length that he liked it to be. It’d fallen into his face now, collecting in a tangled clump on his forehead. 
As I watched and without opening his eyes, Master Kenobi lifted a hand, pushing the hair back. As my eyes remained on the locks, a bizarre fluttering started in my stomach. 
The sensation started out subtle, but the longer I looked, the more it grew. 
Was I getting sick? 
Had our traipse through the snow caused some further harm than just the discomfort I was now experiencing? 
His eyes fluttered open without warning, meeting mine. I read the question there, clear as day. Had he picked up on my feelings? “Your hair,” I replied, hoping the Force hadn’t given him the exact subject of my musings. “It’s long.”
He self-consciously ran his fingers through it. “I know, I know. It’s high time for a haircut.”
“I could cut it for you.”
Suspicion bloomed on his face. “Have you ever cut hair before?”
I gestured to my own hair. My work was a bit choppy, but I wore my hair up most of the time anyway.
“Yeah, you’re not touching my hair,” he said, running his hand protectively over his locks. “I’d probably end up having to shave it all off.” He shuddered, and I nearly snorted, reaching over to turn the water off.
“Are there towels in this place?”
“Here, I’ll-” Master Kenobi stepped forward and immediately crumpled.
I sprang forward, but my strength was only enough to slow his descent to the floor. 
I’d forgotten about his wound. I kneeled beside him, reaching for his bare leg, but he quickly shifted out of my reach. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
“Taking a look at your injury, old man,” I said matter-of-factly, trying not to show how worried I was.
“I assure you, I’m fine–”
Before he could finish his protests, I grabbed the leg, pulling it towards me. I knew as soon as I laid eyes on it that it was bad.
The punctures oozing blood were not the worst of our worries, nor was the swelling and bruising already making their way up and down the appendage. It was the odd angle of the foot.
I looked up at him. “I think it’s broken.”
A ripple ran up his jaw as he grit his teeth. “Can you set it?” he asked. 
“You didn’t even want me to cut your hair!”
“Can you set it?” he repeated. 
“I-I know the theories of how, but you should really have a med droid do it.”
“I don’t have a med droid.” Master Kenobi paused, his expression softening before he said: “I have you.”
“I could hurt you.”
He glanced at the wound. “I think we’re beyond that now.”
“I could make it worse.”
“You won’t.”
He was…trusting me…to help him.
I shook my head slightly. I was the best chance he had. There was a difference. 
I studied Master Kenobi’s foot. If I did something wrong, would there be lasting complications? What if I did something that delayed his healing? Or worse, what if I made a catastrophic mistake that led to him losing his foot altogether?
I didn’t want to do this now. 
But if we waited, the untreated break would surely take ages to heal.
“I’ll do my best.” 
He nodded, looking determined, and his resolve lent me strength. As gingerly as I could, I prodded the skin.
Master Kenobi’s whole body tensed. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for the exact point of the break. It doesn’t seem as though the bone has pierced the skin, but it’s displaced.” I finally located what I was looking for and got my hands in the right position. Then I stopped. If Master Kenobi tensed up, it’d make it harder to shift the bone. I could put him through all the pain of trying to set it, only to not get the bone back to where it needed to be.
I needed him to loosen up, something I hadn’t seen the Jedi Master do in all the time I’d known him.
“How do you know all this?” Master Kenobi asked. “About the rewarming and the bone setting?”
“Before I was chosen as a padawan, I was studying to be a healer,” I answered distractedly, still trying to figure out how to get him to relax. Perhaps he was ticklish? 
Master Kenobi cocked his head. “You didn’t continue that study after you were chosen?”
I shook my head.
“Why not? The Jedi Order always needs healers.”
I glanced up at him, slightly irritated that he’d chosen this moment in time to ask questions. “Um…I tried to help heal a Clone once.” Maybe laughter would help him relax. What were the odds of me telling a joke that would make him laugh?
Master Kenobi raised his eyebrows. “And?”
“When Master Krell found out, he hit me.” So distracted by my task, the words left my mouth before I could even think about them. 
Master Kenobi’s eyes grew wide as his limbs went completely slack. “He-”
I seized the moment, wrenching the bone back into its proper place.
To his credit, my master only let out a strangled groan. After a moment passed, he shifted. “Y/N–”
“It’s a good thing you’re not a Vodran,” I said, trying to change the subject. “Their bones are considerably harder to set because their skin is so tough.” Sitting down, I pulled his foot into my lap, grabbing my overtunic. The fabric was thicker than the fabric of my undertunic, meaning it would behave more like bandages. 
“What are you–” Master Kenobi started to say.
“I have to bind your foot so that we didn’t just set the bone for nothing.”
“But that’s your tunic!” 
I shot him a confused look. “It’s just fabric.”
He went quiet, but judging by the ferocity with which he started chewing on his lower lip, he was still anxious. Why was Master Kenobi, the most practical creature I’d ever met, worried about a tunic?
Maybe he was experiencing the same weird feelings I felt earlier, where pain and low temperatures met to form a delirium.
I wrapped his foot up as best as I could, but I had no idea how tight to tie it. I didn’t want to cut off circulation, but the bone needed support. He definitely needed a med droid, and that would require us somehow getting back to our ship. But that wasn’t going to happen until the snow let up, which meant we were stuck here for the foreseeable future. We could only hope that the Separatists didn’t find our ship, and that the ship was still functional when the snowstorm ended.
In the panic of getting his foot set, the water clinging to our skin had evaporated. Grabbing my pants and undertunic, I shrugged them back on, getting to my feet. “I’m going to go see if there’s food.” I nodded towards his foot. “And you should elevate that.”
An exploration of the bunker didn’t reveal much. It was small and almost completely empty, save for two bunks that had been built into the wall, one on top of the other. There were some empty boxes here and there, but there were no provisions to fight against hunger or cold. This bunker functioned as a hiding place and nothing more. 
I returned to Master Kenobi to find him not elevating his foot, but instead struggling to put his pants on over his undershorts. I briefly considered helping, but if he wanted help, he would ask for it. 
“Did you find anything?”
I shook my head. “Just empty boxes. What is this place anyway?” 
Master Kenobi shifted side to side, slowly inching the pants up his legs. “Anakin and I once had to lay low here for a week. It was originally a hideout for some workers from the shadowport on Socorro, but Anakin reprogrammed everything to only respond to us two.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Why were the two of you here for a week?” 
A mischievous glint gleamed in his eyes. “We might have had a bounty on our heads.”
“What did you guys do?”
“Anakin made a bet with some mine slavers on Socorro. They lost and had to free fifty slaves.”
A pang shot through me at the casual pride in Master Kenobi’s tone. 
Anakin Skywalker. 
The chosen one himself. 
The relationship between master and padawan was a profound thing. An eagerness to learn and single minded devotion on one side, and knowledge rooted in deep compassion on the other. Given the Jedi stance on attachment, it was the most important relationship a Jedi experienced. Everyone in the Order, padawan, knight, or master, had heard stories of Master Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker. No pair got in more trouble nor accomplished as much as they had. It didn’t matter if Skywalker was no longer a padawan; the admiration and respect they held for each other was unmatched. 
I didn’t need to hear it from Master Krell’s lips to know that he never felt that way about me. All I ever received from my old master was guidance, and stern guidance at that.
Suddenly I realized my mental shields were up again. Without meaning to, I was again trying to hide my thoughts and feelings. I frowned. I didn’t want to lower my shields, to expose myself to Master Kenobi, but…if I wanted to be a Jedi, I needed to act like one. Slowly, I let my defenses fall, carefully watching Master Kenobi for a reaction. Master Kenobi’s gaze remained on his foot. Perhaps his pain was blinding him to my feelings.
Master Kenobi put on his undertunic, but he left his overtunic where it was on the floor.
I shook my head, letting the thoughts fall away. “C’mon,” I said lightly, holding my hand out to Master Kenobi. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”
Lifting his arm to wedge myself into his armpit, I hoisted him to his feet, and together, we shuffled towards the bunks. I helped him sit on the bottom bunk and stepped back, stretching out my neck.
“When you say Krell hit you,” Master Kenobi started, causing me to freeze, “what do you mean by that?” I shifted uncomfortably. “You don’t mean that he physically struck you, right?”
As I hesitated, a wave of discomfort washed over me so suddenly, I nearly staggered back.
It wasn’t my own, I realized, as I looked at Master Kenobi’s face. 
As a youngling, I hadn’t heard of any physical punishments being used by the Jedi to discipline their padawans, but it happened often enough with my previous master, that I’d assumed it was common practice. Did Master Kenobi’s reaction mean that it wasn’t?
“I can feel your turmoil,” Master Kenobi murmured. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
He was apologizing again?
“It…” I licked my lips. “It wasn’t that bad.” 
Really, it wasn’t. 
He raised a hand to me once in a while, but most of his aversion was reserved for the clones. Unlike them, I was never intentionally put in danger for the purpose of furthering strategy. Master Krell treated me more like an ally than them, and that counted for something. 
Still, a memory surfaced from a few weeks ago, shortly before Master Krell’s deceit had been uncovered. 
Master Krell had caught me dragging the battalion’s captain out of danger during a conflict, but he hadn’t said anything until the battalion had camped for the night.
The deep tenor of his voice and his related stance with all four of his hands clasped behind his back hadn’t matched with the accusation in his words when he’d asked me what I was doing, neglecting my duty in a fight to save a clone.
I didn’t have time to reply before Master Krell took matters into his own hands. A phantom burst of pain across my face, the memory as clear as when it’d happened.
“Caraya's soul,” Master Kenobi said softly, the color draining from his face. “He hurt you.”
Out of habit, I threw my mental shields back into place. “It could’ve been worse.” It could have been so much worse.
Master Kenobi must’ve been in a lot of pain, for his face was screwed up in an unpleasant expression.
“Is your leg alright?” I asked worriedly. Maybe the bandages were too tight, and he was losing blood flow.
“Leg?” he asked slowly. “Oh, my leg…it’s fine.” He seemed almost distracted, as if he’d not only forgotten that his leg was injured but that he even had a leg in the first place. Master Kenobi sat up, leaning closer with such intention, I knew more questions were coming.
“I should go check the status of the storm,” I said, getting up.
“What?”
I grabbed my coat off the floor, pushing my hands through the sleeves. “The snow might have stopped.”
“I’m coming with you.” Master Kenobi sat up in his bunk.
“No!”
Master Kenobi blinked at my outburst. “You’re injured,” I said abruptly. “You shouldn’t be putting any weight on that leg.”
“You can’t go on your own.”
“Why not?” I rubbed nervously at the inside of my wrist. “I can secure a perimeter.”
“You should have someone watching your back.”
“It won’t take long.”
“Wait!” Master Kenobi held up his overtunic. “At least wear this. You can’t go out in the cold with just your undertunic.”
I hesitated.
“Please.”
I gingerly took it, wrapping it around me as carefully as I could before walking to the door. 
As I lifted my hand to push the button on the pad, a strange, masculine smell drifted up into my nose. 
Master Kenobi’s smell.
It made my head spin a bit, and I quickly hit the button before ducking back into the harsh winds. I couldn’t be angry with the pain flashing through my face, not when the winds seemed to blow away my momentary vertigo. 
I glanced around. The snow had stopped, and the planet had lightened, meaning I could decipher where the sky ended and the land began. The wind continued to blow, and that was probably the reason that there was no sign of our footprints.
Now was the time to make a break for the ship.
-
The biting wind continued to harass us on our trek back to the ship, but being able to see made the journey much quicker. I kept us moving, worried that when we got to the ship, we’d have to commence the warming process again, especially Master Kenobi, since he’d insisted I wore his overtunic. 
As we neared the ship, I noted with relief that the astromech droid was still in its droid socket. It beeped and whistled in droidspeak, relaying its concern for our tardiness.
As soon as Master Kenobi was inside, I went straight for the cockpit, turning the ship on while thanking the Republic fleet for allocating us a ship designed to withstand freezing temperatures. The ship turned on with a slight hum. Wasting no time, I maneuvered the ship off the ground and into the air, straight for the atmosphere.
Once we left the planet’s atmosphere, I relinquished the ship to the astromech droid, quickly ducking back into the hold to check on Master Kenobi, who lay on the cot, using the stiff pillow not for his head but to elevate his foot. 
“We’re maybe a few hours away from Coruscant.”
Master Kenobi didn’t say anything and didn’t spare a look in my direction. I lingered for a few moments, waiting to see if he would break the silence. If reputation was to be believed, he didn’t stay silent for long, prone to questions, criticism, even wisecracks. Perhaps he would dig more into my past or shed more light on the actual teachings of the Jedi code. 
But the silence remained unbroken.
Unsure of myself, I walked into the cockpit, and the door slid shut behind me. The astromech was doing all the work, so there wasn’t much point in sitting here. But to go back in there…for some reason, the idea of it made my stomach twist. 
I realized, as I sat in the pilot’s chair, that my mental shields were up again. Frustrated, I lowered them.
And then, what I could only describe as the humming of light came from behind me. 
Master Kenobi, I realized. I could feel him. Not his thoughts or his feelings, but his presence. Here, in a separate part of the ship, I felt closer to him than when I’d been standing skin-to-skin with him in the refresher. 
“What in the name of Chobb?” I muttered to the stars, who of course, offered no answers. 
-
“Master Kenobi, we are pleased to see you and your padawan returned safe,” said Master Windu, clasping his hands in his signature, thoughtful look. “I will say, your mission took quite a turn.”
“That it did,” Master Kenobi said. “I certainly didn’t expect to nearly lose a limb.”
Chuckles rippled through the councilroom. I nearly rolled my eyes. When we’d landed, I brought Master Kenobi to a healer right away, who declared that Master Kenobi would heal just fine. From my position slightly behind Master Kenobi, I could see that he was still favoring his uninjured side, despite the healing sheath that was currently wrapped around his injury. Even so, the healer had never even mentioned amputation.
“What did you observe of the base before the snowstorm hit?” Master Murag asked.
As Master Kenobi rattled off the information we’d gained, I subtly gauged the expressions of the masters.
Their expressions were pleasant, but revealed nothing. They kept their attention on Master Kenobi, barely sparing a glance in my direction. I couldn’t tell if that was good or bad.
“Well done,” Master Koon said once Master Kenobi had finished. “This information is valuable. We have another mission for you, once you have healed up.”
I bowed, expecting the meeting to be over.
But Master Kenobi didn’t move.  
“To say, more have you, Master Kenobi.” Master Yoda said, showing his famed clairvoyance. 
“Yes.” 
I tried to keep my face impassive while desperately wishing I could see Master Kenobi’s. What was he doing? What more could he have to say about this mission that hadn’t been in his report? I’d been both at the mission and in this room when he gave his report. There was nothing he missed.
Master Kenobi rounded out his shoulders, standing tall.
“Padawan Y/N’s diligently-gained knowledge kept me safe from threats I myself would not have known how to approach.” My breath caught, and I stared at the back of his head, wondering what he was doing. “Without her, I would not have made it back. She was invaluable.”
None of the masters reacted, their faces not showing a single hint of surprise, as if they had no investment in the conversation at all. I, however, felt like I’d swallowed a box of fireworks and been told to stand still. 
“Is that so?” asked Master Tiin.
“Indeed. I believe she is well on her way to being a great asset to the Jedi Order.”
Master Windu glanced over at Master Yoda. “Well, thank you for your words. You both are dismissed. We will inform you of your next mission once your injury has fully healed.”
Master Kenobi nodded to his fellow masters and walked out of the councilroom. 
I followed him through the door and through the Jedi temple, completely at a loss for words.
“Why did you say all that?” I managed to ask once we’d passed the library. 
Master Kenobi didn’t even bother to act confused or clueless. “Because it was the truth. And they need to know the truth.”
“But they weren’t asking about my conduct.”
Master Kenobi stopped walking, looking at me dead in the eyes. “The way Krell treated you was abominable. I suspect I know very little of the true extent of his mistreatment, but had any of us known what I do know, we would’ve put a stop to it immediately. But you spent years under his tutelage, suffering.” He paused, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “It is my responsibility to right his wrongs. That starts with clearing your name.”
“Why?”
“Because I am your Master. It is my job to help you become the best Jedi you can be.” 
“But–” I froze, wishing I could recall the interjection. It wasn’t right to question my master like this. 
Master Kenobi gave me a meaningful look. 
I shifted. “You’re not going to pass me off to someone else?”
Master Kenobi smiled softly, like there was some secret joke between us. “I may not have chosen you traditionally, but I did choose you.”
“Why would you–”
“Because you saved Captain Rex.”
My mind went utterly blank, and it was only by some miracle that my jaw did not drop. Saving a clone—the action Master Krell condemned me for—was what appealed to Master Kenobi?
“Who told you I saved him?”
My only answer was a tiny gleam in Master Kenobi’s eyes. “I believe it is time for you to wash up and get some sleep. In the morning, we will start to fix Master Krell’s teachings.” He turned and started limping down the corridor.
“Master Kenobi?” I called, and he turned to face me. “How...how am I supposed to know which of his teachings were good and which were bad?”
“Simple,” Master Kenobi said. “You ask.” With a nod, he went on his way.
I watched him go.
When I’d been informed after Master Krell’s death that I would now be reassigned to Master Kenobi, I expected a period of adjustment, but I hadn’t known the two masters would be so different.
Master Krell accomplished much in this war, because his single-minded approach meant nothing else mattered besides victory. He was brutal and untrustworthy. Because he’d been my master for so long, I’d nearly forgotten what the Jedi Order valued.
Over the course of this mission, Master Obi-Wan Kenobi had proven himself to be the epitome of everything a Jedi should be.
A selfless, powerful warrior equipped with bravery and strong with the Force. 
I didn’t…I didn’t have the words to explain it, this feeling rising up in me. The feeling that made me hold my head high. The feeling that challenged some of my long held beliefs. The feeling that perhaps I wasn’t completely alone in this galaxy. 
I only knew that whatever it was, it was because of the Jedi Master with hair too long and heart much bigger.
-
Part 2
Overall tag list:
@thelastpyle​ @valiantlytransparentwhispers​
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@penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories @starlazergazer
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ihotchner · 2 years
Text
tw. religion kink, worship kink, corruption kink, pussy eating, and afab!reader
nsfw — 18+ up!
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may the maker know that obi-wan tried—he truly tried his best. there was just no winning with you, and if he were to be the loser, he’d never win again in his lifetime.
you had been truly enamored with him since the mission he’d taken for you all the years ago on coruscant. he’d merely guarded you for a few years, meant to keep sentinel outside your door as your life was being threatened by foreign diplomats. from those years you’d spent together, you’d spend most of it at his side—curiously inquiring about his life outside of watching your every move.
he’d thought it was a crush. they came and they went and obi wan could feel your feelings along the force as sharp spikes of nerves whenever he was around. the soft lull of content whenever he began to play into the games of wonderment about the life of a jedi knight.
oftentimes he’d hear other jedi mentioning the differing diplomats and their wanton expressions of desire to the jedi—some even found solace in the bedchambers of those they watched if they so fancied. obi-wan thought he was above it all.
maker, he had been so good—and yet here he was.
here, face buried in the silkiest robes adorning your legs, draped around your figure like you were being presented to him. as if you were only meant for him, to only know the feeling of his tongue as it dragged along the sweet wetness if your pussy. he went slow, dragging slowly so he could taste everything. stars, you were divine.
when you’d re-presented yourself to the jedi knight, he’d taken your sexual advances as nothing more than you being forward. it had been the first time you’d whispered the things you had wanted him to do to you that had begun to break down his walls. it was the second time you’d moaned his name from inside the room he stood vigil at that he’d truly felt as a madman did. so close to knowing what that little curiosity would feel like, and yet hopelessly, tirelessly trying to resist the pull he’d felt towards you.
eventually, the feeling of his hand gingerly pressing against the tightness in his pants just wasn’t enough and he’d breathlessly interrupted a sight meant only for the eyes of a true sinner.
his hands were gripping your thighs, holding as if you were a dream that would fizzle into space should he not clasp you tightly enough. his eyes flicked to your silhouette, watching with a fervent eye the way you tipped your head back—a moan was silently leaving your lips, but he drank in the way your neck bared to him. earlier, he’d spent his time kissing along the smoothed skin just below your ear, but he’d found a far better use of his mouth.
he wondered, once, if a jedi’s vow of non-attachment made any sort of sense. for surely, he’d be able to make impartial decisions in the interest of the general good but now, tongue buried deep in something he finds akin to finding paradise, he knew any and all vows he’d made were null and void. to continue tasting the heavenly wetness of your bared cunt was something he’d do anything for—the thought marginally tore a hole through everything he’d ever learned.
“obi-wan," your lips whispered his name, and he felt his cock ache gently at the need dripping from your words, “i-i can’t— you have to let me come— please—!”
he hummed softly, adjusting his grip to firmly grasp your hips to prevent you from bucking your pussy into his mouth. he was lightly circling your clit with his tongue, and every time you moved your hips, it ruined the rhythm he was trying to create—something to allow you over the edge gently. he should have known you’d want something bigger, something louder.
your moans ricocheted against the marble walls, each one bouncing back and spurring obi wan on. all he knew was giving you pleasure, and he had always been devoted to doing his job.
he let his mouth circle your clit, his pointer and middle finger pushing inside of you as he felt your hands fly to his hair. your fingers gripped his hair, eyes screwing shut tightly.
obi-wan allowed his fingers to push in and out of the tight space of your pussy with a furrow of his brows, concentration completely on allowing you to climax. his sole purpose for living was to make you orgasm, to bring you to the edge of pleasure and insanity—to force you to chose between the options with a sick desire. he wanted to be the only one to bring you to your finish, to be the sole worshipper in a shrine built by his own hands of you.
you’d no idea of how the force worked, and truly neither did he despite years of studying it and honing it. but in a breath, a single moment, he knew everything there was to know about the force and intangible things just out of his grasp.
your orgasm ripped through the gentle tremors of the force in a cacophony of brilliant blue and green hues, hidden beneath the crescendoing cool tones was the softest hints of pink—a devotion that made obi-wan’s heart stutter.
your chest heaved, hand over your racing heart as obi-wan continued drinking in your continuing orgasm. your legs would occasionally flinch against his back as he continued to pepper your cunt in the devotion it deserved—prolonging pulling his mouth off. your hand was still in his hair, eyes lidded as you watched him drink up your come like a man dehydrated. stars, the look you were giving him alone could make him consider murdering to keep it on himself and him alone.
with the next few words you’d moan to him, a soft whisper against the deafening sound of obi-wan catching his breath, he felt himself harden to the point of pain.
“obi-wan,” you groaned his name, a prayer to the maker for salvation, “i need you to bed me so badly.”
obi-wan was nothing, if not good at his job of pleasing you.
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221bshrlocked · 2 years
Text
where it wasn’t
Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Ben x Fem!Reader (post-Kenobi Series era)
Words: 18,763 (can you tell I’m unwell?)
Warnings: 18+ only. Angsty Smut. Mutual Pining/Porn with some plot. Touch-Starved Obi-Wan. Lots of Kissing. Some form of competency kink? Marking Kink (again idk). Dirty/Sweet Talk. Slight Choking. Overstimulation. Penetrative, Unprotected Sex. Slight Breeding Kink. Some tears here and there because Obi-Wan just needs a fucking hug. 
Summary: “I- I am most flattered by your a-admiration but-” Ben grunts when you accidentally graze one of his nipples, his mind instantly going into hyperdrive and making him lose his train of thoughts. “But I highly doubt this is the most impressive form you’ve ever come across.” His voice is strained, that you’re certain of, and you want to see how far you can take it with him before he can no longer hold back. You’re close to thinking against it, but as you continue to knead his tight muscles, you notice a dark blush creeping down his neck to his chest and decide to tease him just a little bit more.
A/N: Yes, it is a massage au. Yes, the trope is basic as fuck. Yes, this fic is just an excuse to write porn. Yes, it is very much a self-indulgent story because I deal with trauma by reading or writing angsty smut. No, I am not okay after this week’s episode. This is completely inspired by the scene in episode 4 though...you know, the bacta tank one. Please don’t judge me. Enjoy and please be kind in the comments. I have never written for our beloved General before. Also, this is not beta’d...
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He should not be here, it was neither safe nor necessary. But the bit of him that longed for another’s touch, a stranger’s kindness if you will, forced him to come out of his shell and go out of his way to come here again. He would regret it later of course, and the guilt would last for weeks before he no longer felt traces of her touch on his skin. Only then would he reevaluate his decisions and come to the conclusion that perhaps it was not as selfish or as dangerous as he deemed it to be. 
An obnoxious string of laughter snaps him out of his haze, and he rubs his palms together to familiarize himself with the calmness he once walked hand-in-hand with. Pushing the hood higher upon his head, he crosses his arms together and approaches the dingy doors of the establishment he’s grown to seek out ever since he returned to Tatooine once more. A lump of anxiety forms in his dry throat all of a sudden and he barely manages to swallow it down as he enters the rather quiet building.
As soon as he steps past the threshold of the dimly lit entrance, he’s bombarded with a variety of scents, ones which he prayed to the Maker he would get to memorize again. He looks around as if this is his first time requesting the services the establishment offers, hoping that someone could put him out of his misery and recognize how difficult it was for him to come here. When he sees several others waiting to be led into one of the private rooms, he takes a deep breath and slowly moves towards one of the corners of the room. 
However, before he has a chance to muster up the courage to ask when the next available appointment is, he hears his name uttered softly from behind him. He reluctantly turns around and feels his chest collapse at the sight of you. The weeks may have taken a toll on him, but the absence of your eyes pushed him to grow more fond of you than the last time he was here. He parts his lips to say something but the words die in his throat when he allows his focus to trail down your form. Somehow, you looked more mesmerizing in the old fabrics hugging your body than anyone ever had the right to. He cannot remember the last time he was so starstruck by the mere presence of another, but as he stands here, looking at you as if you were the rarest of flowers on this desert planet, he can’t help himself from smiling at you and bowing his head. 
“I thought I would never see you again.” Your voice pulls him from the trance he’s under, and he walks towards you slowly, his hands remaining steadfast at his sides to remind himself that he cannot reach for you no matter how much he needs to. 
“I- I hate to admit this, dear one, but I did not think you would ever see me again either.” Were it not for the hesitation veiling his words, you would have grown more offended at the rather sudden and somewhat rude exclamation. Neither of you say anything for a few moments though, and it’s only when you smile and look at your feet that he finally takes those last few steps towards you. Ringing your fingers nervously, you clear your throat and turn your attention to his light blue ones again, wishing you could find some bit of honesty that would let you know he missed you as much as you missed him. 
“I see. Well, if you’re looking for someone else’s services, I will gladly recommend one or two that-” You try to change the subject but he cuts you off abruptly, and reaches out to rest his hand on your shoulder. 
“No, please no.” When he sees the way you flinch at the touch of his hand, the subtle smirk gracing his handsome features drops and turns into an even more beautiful pout. 
“My apologies, it was never my intention to make you uncomfortable.” It’s his turn to play with his hands to distract himself, and it takes you longer than necessary to put yourself together and not think of how large and firm his hand felt atop your skin. 
“You never make me uncomfortable, Ben. In fact, you’re the only client I have that makes me look forward to coming into work every day.” It’s a longshot, that you are certain of, but the slight widening of his eyes and the way his shoulders tense let you know that, although he didn’t expect you to be so forthright with him after such a long time of not seeing or speaking together, he wasn’t opposed to the true meaning behind your words. 
“You- you flatter me with your kind words.” He can’t bear to hold your gaze, afraid that if he looks for too long, you’d come to realize why he was so desperate to see you again. Some part of him longed to tell you how much cared for you ever since that first time you invited him into the parlor to ease his aches, but he knew there would be no going back once you were aware of the hidden thoughts and rather inappropriate dreams which plagued him for weeks on end. 
“Not at all. Flattering implies I don’t mean what I’m saying. I’m just being honest Ben, and- well, I hope you can see that because…” You trail off when you notice him actively avoiding your eyes, and as you’re about to apologize for being too forward, a rather impatient trandoshan struts by and bumps into you on his way out. You trip and fall right into Ben’s arms, but before you can turn around and give the customer a piece of your mind, you hear Ben grunt in pain as he readjusts his hold on your waist. 
“Oh Ben, you didn’t tell me you’re hurt!” You let go of him and step away, quickly trailing your eyes down his form to try and figure out where exactly he was wounded. He always wore those ripped, dirty clothes that hid him from prying eyes, and you wished he could finally be comfortable enough with you to allow you to give him a massage without his clothes. You got the sense early on that he was a man who relied on staying hidden, both physically and emotionally, so the idea of him stripping for you set your mind into overdrive. But as you stare at the pained expression on his tired features, you shake your thoughts away and reach for his hand. 
Ben finally dares to look at you, furrowed eyebrows slowly coming to rest easily when he sees the loving and patient look swimming in your eyes. A year ago, he would have snatched his hand away and stormed out of the city to the comfort of his cave. He would have refused to return to this side of the planet out of fear of seeing whomever dared to touch him so intimately. But as he stands there in the middle of your parlor, with the warmth of your skin engulfing him so sweetly and lovingly, he can’t bring himself to let go of you, not because you might be offended, but because he can’t stand not feeling you close to him any longer. 
“Ben, come with me. Please.” You wait until his shoulders sag in relief and acceptance before you pull him behind you and into the hallway. If anyone attempts to ask why he got priority over the others, you simply stare at them and narrow your eyes sternly to prevent them from thinking of breathing his way. As you lead Ben through the narrow and rather hot establishment, you feel a sense of unnerving peace wash over you. Here was a man that you knew, for certain, did not enjoy the company of others and yet followed you blindly and without question towards an unknown. Granted he came here a few times before, but you always led him to one of the more public rooms, knowing that he probably felt more comfortable seeing others being taken care of like him. 
You look back once and bite into your lower lip when you see the hazed look upon his face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that his pupils were dilated simply from the mere touch of your fingers against his coarse skin. 
“Where are you taking me?” His voice, laced with a hint of anxious desperation, makes you stop in your tracks, and you turn around to face him immediately, knowing that he may have still felt uncomfortable at the prospect of being alone with you. 
“My room. It’s more private and…safe. I’m sorry, I- I should have asked you before I led you here. We can go back if you want.” You leave the sentiment open-ended, but you hope that he can see through the offer and notice how much you really didn’t want to be around anyone else but him.
“N-no. Perhaps it is better if you attend to me in more private quarters.” As soon as the words leave his lips, Ben catches onto the double-meaning in between the agreement, and he frantically shakes his head to make sure you didn’t think he expected anything more from you. 
“Relax, it’s only me.” You rub his wrist and smile at him before you continue down the hallway, and Ben rolls his eyes at his idiocy as you look forward and lead him to your room. He doesn’t know what to expect from the night, but he hopes that you muster up the courage to cross the invisible line he’s planted in the sand ever since he came to you because he knew well enough that he wouldn’t be able to move past it himself. 
When you finally reach your room, Ben squeezes your hand for a moment to remain grounded, his heart finally accepting to return to a normal heartbeat when you return the flex and keep your attention on him. He waits patiently as you push in the code to your doors, and when the heavy metal swishes open, he blinks slowly to remember his self-control before he steps into your room. 
Whatever he thought he would find in your private chambers is somehow similar and different from reality. The room is not as spacious as the others you’ve taken him to but it certainly holds many more things, the most surprising of which was a large bacta tank right below one of the windows. It’s also more homey than the others, which is not surprising to him considering you did let him know that this was your personal room and not one occupied by the others during the hours of the parlor. 
“Is it…pleasing to you?” Ben is surprised by the question, and he lets go of your hand to cross his arms and wander around the chambers. He notices a large bed at the opposite end of the room and regrets where his mind wanders to instantly. Ben is sure his beard is hiding a deep blush heating through his cheeks, and he clears his throat when he turns around and looks at you. He means to offer you a vague answer, but as soon as he takes in a deep breath and the natural scent of the room hits his senses, his heart skips a beat because-
Maker, if he thought your scent was maddening before, it was driving him crazy with lust and need for you now. 
“You will find that I will never disagree with anything your hands caressed.” 
It is far from the response he wanted to offer you, but the reaction he gets out of you from those simple words shoots straight to his cock and makes him clench his fists tightly to try and remain in control. He can see the visible shiver that courses through your body and the way your chest rises and falls rapidly at such a bold exclamation, and against his better judgment, Ben uncrosses his arms and approaches you with careful steps. 
“You f-flatter me Ben.” He can tell you’re embarrassed by the attention he’s freely showering you with all of a sudden, and the shy reaction makes it more difficult for him to keep himself in check, not because of how submissive he’s sure you would be willing to be for him, but because he wants, more than anything, to see that same expression etched on your beautiful features as you came undone around his cock and marked him as yours. 
“Never, little one. I only speak the truth.” Again, whereas he only wished to put you at ease, his body reacts of its own volition and Ben reaches to caress your cheek with his hand. If you’re surprised by the familiarity of the touch, you hide it quickly and choose to close your eyes to commit this moment to memory. 
“B-Ben,” it’s your turn to reach for him, but as soon as you place your hand atop his right shoulder, Ben flinches away and grabs for his side. The reaction is enough to bring you back to reality, and you remember why you brought him to your room in the first place. 
“Kriffing hell, are you trying to distract me on purpose?” You frown and move past him swiftly, not bothering to give him a chance to say anything as you prep the bacta tank. 
“This will not be necessary, I assure you I am-” Ben follows closely behind you to get you to calm down and face him, but you brush him aside and shake your head as the tank fills with water. As you wait for it to be ready, you clear your throat and turn to him again, gaze more stern than Ben ever thought you capable of. 
“I have never been overbearing with you Ben, and I think you can tell that it never bothered me to be quiet and patient with you. But I’m sorry I can’t be either of those things right now. You- you’re hurt and I am sure you neglected to take care of your wounds due to whatever sort of justification you thought up. So, please, if you ever valued our friendship, get in the tank. I can leave if you want some privacy, but just- maker, please let me take care of you.” You choose your words carefully and refuse to back down from Ben’s intense stare as he rubs his beard and visibly thinks over your proposition. He’s quiet for too long to your liking, but when he looks to the bacta tank behind you, he shakes his head and purses his lips tightly. 
“I…cannot afford this, darling. Surely you know that.” Had you not known him, you would have been offended by his words. You almost snap at him but when you notice the ear-to-ear smile breaking across his face, you barely hold back from returning the expression and instead narrow your eyes at him. 
“If you think me cruel enough to charge you for something so important, then I suggest you pack your things and leave…after you use the bacta tank of course.” You know he’s not buying your act one bit, and the idea that you’ve come to a point in your relationship with Ben where the two of you don’t mind teasing each other makes your stomach flutter with warmth. 
“I brought nothing with me except the clothes on my back sweetheart.” His words light a flame across your chest then, and you swallow the lump in your throat as you keep his gaze and notice the curious eyebrow he was aiming at you. Surely he wasn’t flirting with you…was he?
“L-like I said, I can give you privacy if you-” You step back and aimlessly point to a door beside you to let him know that you don’t mind leaving him alone. But Ben shakes his head and moves into your space, ignoring the shocked look on your face when he pushes a few strands of hair away from your eyes to take a better look at you. 
“You and I have known each other long enough, have we not? Unless it is you who wishes to leave, in which case, I will not force you to be here.” There is a hint of humor in his tone that makes you more flustered by the second and you don’t have the mind to form so much as a coherent thought to respond to him. Ben turns around and removes the longer robe covering his form, and it is only when he throws it gently on top of one of the chairs that he notices you not budging from your place. 
“You are not leaving then?” 
“It is my room…so no.” You hate how you trip over your words as you try to answer him, but from the looks of it, Ben doesn’t mind your embarrassed reaction one bit. In fact, he seems to have taken a liking to your more shy demeanor when he openly teases you. 
“Very well. Would you be so kind as to help me out of these robes then? The wound is…it’s severe and limits my movement. I’d hate to irritate it any further.” He points to his right shoulder and side all the while studying your body language to ensure your comfort. The last thing he wants is to push you too far and cause you to run away from him. Ben expects to stand in silence for a while, but when you rub your hands together and approach him, he allows himself to relax further into the intimate and warm space. 
“Sure, yes…I can do that. Just- just tell me if I make you uncomfortable. I’ll leave right away.” You reiterate once more as you lay your hands on top of his shoulders and rub the harsh fabric in between your fingers. Surely he didn’t remain in these robes all the time? His skin looked too soft to be covered with such coarse material, and before you dwell too long on how warm and inviting the skin of his clavicle felt beneath the tips of your fingers, Ben breaks the silence and rests his hands around your waist. He doesn’t try to pull you in closer, but he does squeeze you a little tightly as he returns your own words to you again. 
“Nothing you will do will ever cause me discomfort, little one.” 
“Oh.” It’s quite pathetic how easily Ben can cause your mental capabilities to decrease down to nothing, and you hope he doesn’t think less of you the longer the night stretches because you are sure you will melt into his arms if he so much as whispers a quick ‘thank you’ to you. 
“May I?” Even though he has just given you permission to help him undress, you ask him anyway, knowing that it is better to receive affirmation from him than to accidentally make him wish he never came to you tonight. 
“Please.” The way Ben pleads with you so willingly sends a ripple of lightning down your spine, and your breath hitches when you look up and see how focused he is on you. Knowing that things would only get more intense going forward, you sink your teeth into your lower lip and softly trail your hands down his chest to his stomach. You know you shouldn’t touch him more than necessary but seeing how open and almost inviting he seems to be with you now makes you tiptoe over that line of friendship a little. You say nothing as you rest your palms on top of his stomach, reminding yourself to breathe every couple of seconds when you notice Ben’s own body rising and falling beneath your touch. 
If Ben is affected by your actions, he does a very good job at hiding it, making you wish he was comfortable enough with you to show you how much your intimate and rather lewd caresses are affecting him. For a moment, you swear his chest ceases moving when you finger the buckle of the belt holding his tunic tightly to his torso, but it resumes to the slightest of movement again when you unbuckle it and wrap your hands around his back to remove it carefully without hurting him. 
As soon as you lean into his space, Ben forgets how to breathe, and he shuts his eyes tightly to refrain from closing his arms around you and smothering your lips with his own in a heated kiss. He can smell you much better now, and the flowery almost spicy scent of you is more potent than before. If he parts his lips now, he swears he can taste you on his tongue, but he chooses to keep them shut tightly to avoid any temptations. 
You don’t notice the struggle Ben lives through for those brief moments, too busy wanting to make him as calm and comfortable as possible within your space. There’s a mutual understanding between the two of you as you reach for the bottom of his brown shirt and slowly tug it across his body. Only then does Ben break your gaze, and you hope it isn’t because he’s growing self-conscious in your presence. Your thoughts are answered in an instant when he chuckles embarrassingly and breaks the deep silence that befell you. 
“I am afraid I may smell unpleasant to you. Forgive me, dear one. I cannot always afford bathwater where I live.” 
The sad, broken tone of his voice wraps around your heart and clenches it painfully, making you wish you had the right to ask him to come and bathe here whenever he likes. But you know that he might misunderstand your kindness for something else, and you opt to shaking your head and continuing to raise the shirt until he could slip his left arm from its confines. 
“It may be unpleasant to others, but your scent reminds me of…tenderness, compassion even.” You’re only speaking the truth to him but the honest sentiment must be too much for Ben because he lets out a shaky breath as soon as he wraps his mind around the words you just uttered. As much as you want to continue, you decide to keep quiet again, mostly because you are sure the sight of his skin will make you lose all coherent thought. 
As you expected, your mind unravels haphazardly when you catch sight of the firm yet soft skin of his waist and stomach. Taking advantage of the few seconds of blindness as you remove his shirt from around his neck, you meditate on the trail of hair adorning his navel and hiding beneath his pants before you remember your mission and snap your attention back to his face. Ben looks to the side as soon as he is free of the shirt, and you mentally slap yourself for whatever shameless expression he may have written on your features as you tried to rid him of  his clothes. 
Right, his wounded right side. Focus on his wounded side and shoulder. 
“Don’t try to raise your hand with me, I’ll do this slowly.” Ben doesn’t bother to offer you any response, and you get the sense that it might be because he is not used to showing so much skin to another being. As carefully as possible, you drag the tunic down his shoulder a few inches only to stop and gasp when you catch sight of the scarred flesh of his muscles. 
“Oh sweetheart, what happened to you?” You don’t realize what you say until you meet Ben’s eyes and see the heartbroken look taking over his soul. The term of endearment must be a bit too much for him because in a matter of seconds, his blue orbs are a sea of unshed tears begging to be released from their confinement. 
“It- it wasn’t…I didn’t-” The way he trips over his words lets you know that he couldn’t try to tell you how he came to own these horrid wounds even if he tried, so instead of pushing him any further, you blink away the tears forming in your own eyes and lean into his space. Without thinking much of what you’re doing, you hover over the top of his right side and lay the softest of kisses on his clavicle, barely managing to hold back from turning your head to the side and giving the same attention to his neck. You don’t give him a chance to say anything else as you continue to leave a trail of kisses down each inch of skin you reveal to the warm air. Once you’ve completely removed his shirt from his body, you take a step back and bring his right arm closer to your face. Making certain that he was focusing only on you, you lift his hand to your lips and kiss across his wrist to his forearm, hoping that the gentle touches weren’t making matters worse. When you’ve left your mark over the skin that wasn’t too sensitive or too inflamed, you lay his arm down to his side and muster up the courage to meet his eyes once more. 
The look he gives you is both heartwarming and heartbreaking, and you can tell that he was trying his hardest to not break down completely in your presence. 
Ben wants to say so much. He wants to thank you for your unusual kindness and caring touches. He wants to beg you to keep leaving your mark on him because the searing heat your lips left across his skin is better than the burning pins and needle sensations he’s felt for weeks now. He wants to repay your patience by kissing away all doubts from your mind, doubts he saw from the first time he came to you. He wants to shower you with pleasant words, whispers of his affections and dreams that he was now certain you would not be opposed to. 
But all that manages to leave his mouth are two quiet, unsure words. 
“Thank you.”
You smile at him then, and Ben thanks the maker that you don’t say anything else because he’s sure he would collapse then and there if he heard your voice purr more reassuring compliments to him. 
The moment evaporates into thin air, however, when all of a sudden, you get down on your knees in front of him and look up into his tear-stained eyes just as you grab his shoes. A hint of panic washes over his entire body and you gulp nervously when he reaches down and grabs hold of both of your shoulders to prevent you from doing anything. You’re not sure what he thought you were about to do, but when you notice the soft muscles of his chest flex tightly, you realize his mind was racing towards a more inappropriate link of thinking. 
“I’m just going to take your shoes off.” Even though your voice is barely louder than a whisper, you flinch at how harsh and gravely it comes out, not because of how unpleasant it might be but because Ben twitches when he hears it fill the silent air. When he doesn’t say anything back, you let go of his legs and keep your hands clasped in your lap. Ben’s attention shifts down to look at your hands, and you almost frown in question when you notice the tight clench of his jaws as he continues to look at your stance. 
“Is this still okay?” You follow up shortly after, praying to the maker that he doesn’t collect his belongings and walk out the door. 
“Y-yes.” He lets go of your shoulders and stands up to his height again soon after, and it takes every ounce of control in your body to not beg him to have his way with you. Ben may not appear menacing and dominant when he walks around with his hunched back and inviting body language, but as you look at him now, without the multitude of clothes often hiding him from your hungry gaze, you can’t help but find his presence commanding, more so than anyone else you’ve ever met. 
Taking in a deep breath, you nod in return and lift his ankle off the ground, biting into the inside of your cheek when you feel the warm skin erupt in goosebumps underneath your touch. 
Maker, he was more touch-starved than you thought. 
As you remove his shoes and socks, your train of thought takes a turn for the worse when it comes to your attention that you might be the first person Ben has revealed himself to in a long time. A part of you hopes that you are the first to ever lay eyes on him, but you knew that, with the Coruscant accent he tried his best to hide whenever he spoke, this was highly unlikely. Ben was one of the most handsome men you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing, and this was now. You smile to yourself when you think of all the hearts he broke in his younger days, and you quickly thank the maker for not being one of them because you very much liked him as he was in this moment. 
Reserved but engaging. 
Even though Ben isn’t in touch with the Force as he used to be, he can still see through the dazed veil that overtook you as soon as you began removing his shoes. He wants to break through that blanket of doubt and assure you that you are the first who’s seen him this vulnerable in decades, but he thinks against it, not knowing how you would react to such a sudden confession.
He composes himself as you stand again, but that composure falters when he feels your fingers rest at the top of his pants. He looks down and notices how still you’ve become, and he gulps rather loudly when he realizes what you were silently asking him. Shifting his attention back to you once more, Ben doesn’t bother hiding the rapid rise and fall of his chest as his heart rate elevates, and before you can ask him if what you’re doing is acceptable, he nods at you and braces himself for what’s to follow. 
You’re not sure if it’s better for him if you avoided his gaze or kept contact with his anxiety-filled blue orbs, but you opt for the latter, knowing that he probably wouldn’t appreciate you devouring him as you pulled down his pants. Without missing a beat, you unclasp the button keeping the fabric tightly hugged around his hips, slowly lowering the zipper to give him time to remove your hands from him. When he doesn’t push your fingers away, you continue lowering the zipper until his pants are hanging loosely around his waist. 
“Is this still okay Ben?” 
You’re not sure what sort of response you expected to receive from him, but the low groan he graces you with is certainly the last thing you expected to hear. Ben must notice the shock of the noise he just made etched on your features because he nods frantically soon after and bites into his lower lip as you let his pants fall down his legs. As much as you want to take in every bit of his skin, you keep your gaze sternly above his neck, and say nothing more as you take his hands in yours and pull him towards you. Ben doesn’t dare look elsewhere, and as he steps out of his pants, he does everything in his power to distract himself from his body’s reaction to your touches. 
He prays that you aren’t offended by the natural reflex currently plaguing his mind, and it’s only when he sees how respectful you’re trying to be that he forgets his worries and looks away to the bacta tank.
“Ben, I can see how nervous you are. Like I said, I can leave to give you more privacy. If you wish to take off your…umm, the rest of your clothes, I will move to the next room and wait for you until you’re done.” You squeeze his hands tightly to let him know that you meant every word you uttered, and you’re surprised when he clutches your palms in return. 
“Don’t leave, please. I- I want you here, but I do not think I am ready to take this off just yet.” 
“That’s okay. If you want, I have something else you can wear so you don’t get these wet? I’ll have them washed for you too so they could be ready by the time we’re done.” Again, you don’t realize the innuendo until you’ve spoken the last few words. If Ben notices, he says nothing and instead agrees to your offer. You let go of his hands and move towards one of your dressers, quickly grabbing a pair of loose shorts before returning to his side. 
“I- I’ll just turn around until you’re done.” You hand him the softer fabric and smile when he nods again and shoots you a bashful smile. Before he can take his underclothes off, you lean down and snatch his pants and socks from the floor, not bothering to look at him again as you turn around and take his shirt and robe from the chair you laid them on. You throw them over your arm and wait patiently for Ben to tell you when you can turn around. There’s quiet shuffling behind you for a few moments, and you decide to study the corner of your wall to avoid thinking of Ben looks like completely nude. 
Ben clears his throat as loudly as possible to let you know that he’s dressed again, and you hope that he can see how much you’re trying to accommodate him. When you turn around, you gasp at the site of him standing in front of the bacta tank. As hard as you try not to stare at him, you can’t help but let your eyes wander down his broad form to his thick thighs and firm legs. 
“Maker Ben, you’re beautiful.” 
It’s not what you planned on telling him, but it is what comes out, and you apologize quickly when you look up at him and see the blush creeping down his neck to his chest. 
“T-thank you darling.” 
Not knowing where to go from here, you pretend he didn’t just call you another personal term of endearment and reach to grab his undergarments from him. Ben hands it to you and waits patiently until you leave to the other room before he allows his shoulders to relax. He takes those few moments to collect his bearings, looking down at his almost nude form to see if there was anything wrong with him. It’s been so long since another saw him so exposed and vulnerable, and he hopes that you like what he has to offer even a little bit. He is not as lean and muscular as he once was, and those doubts from earlier in the day come creeping back into his mind when he sees all the imperfections littering his skin. Before he can dwell too much on them though, you’re back in the room with two flasks in your hands. 
“Umm, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to receive your usual massage so I brought these out in case you decided on one after you’re done with the bacta tank.” When Ben says nothing in return, you place the two flasks down onto the table and approach him slowly. 
“Ben, I want you to know that you’re in charge here. I won’t ever do anything you don’t want. But…I do need you to tell me if I am. I know this might be all new to you but I won’t know if I’m doing anything wrong unless you tell me.” You speak as gently as possible, wanting him to know that you’re not angry with him but that you really did need him to give you even the shortest of responses. 
“Forgive me, you’re right. I- I merely cannot trust my own voice at the moment, hence my reluctance to respond to your kindness. If you are not otherwise occupied for the evening, I would very much like to receive one after.” His voice is hoarse and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was a little turned on from this entire situation. You couldn’t blame him though. You’ve been turned on ever since you walked out and saw him waiting at the corner of the parlor. 
“No need to apologize, a simple yes or no would be enough. Although, I won’t oppose hearing your voice more often.” You try to ease the anxiety floating around him, and you giggle when he raises a curious eyebrow and shoots you an actual, deep smile. 
“Is that so? You enjoy listening to my voice, little one?” The teasing remark, along with the flirtatious petname, are almost enough to have you begging for him to fuck you against the wall, but you hold yourself back from saying what you really want to tell him. 
“Y-yes, I do. It’s very gentle and soothing. You could read a manual on how to shut down a droid and I would consider it poetry.” You respond instead and move around him to get the bacta tank ready for him. Ben hums lowly and it’s only when you turn around and look at him that you see the same struggle you were experiencing taking hold of him as well. 
“Good to know.” 
Although it’s an open-ended comment, you know better than to keep the conversation going down that road. As much as you want to continue flirting with him, you don’t want to be distracted from taking care of wounds. 
“Whenever you’re ready then,” you hold the mask up to him, but Ben shakes his head and walks around to get into the tank. 
“That won’t be necessary. I do not intend on remaining in there long enough to fall asleep.” His tone is more assertive than before so you don’t try to argue with him, knowing that this was already difficult for him to do. 
“Whatever makes you comfortable.” You say as you put the breathing mask away and stand aside to give him enough room to lower himself into the tank. He’s slow and careful in his movements, and you watch him closely to see if he needs your help with anything. He sits down into the tank and looks towards you again.
“You will not leave?”
The question surprises you, and you take a step towards him, reaching out for his left hand and taking it in between your own softly to reassure him. 
“I won’t, I promise.” Ben sighs in relief at your response and he turns away as he slowly descends his body below the warm, healing waters. You quickly grab a towel and place it at the edge of the tank in time for him to lower his neck down and rest on it. 
“You know, you might be the first person to ever use the bacta tank as a bathtub and I think it’s hilarious.” You break the silence after a while, and watch as he chuckles at your words. 
“I am glad I can be amusing to you sweetheart.” You shut your eyes and meditate on his voice for a few moments, thankful that he was already finding this relaxing. You stand next to him in silence for a few minutes, and when his breathing looks constant, you think that he may have fallen asleep out of fatigue. As soon as you try to move away to bring another towel for after he finishes, his hand leaves the waters of the bacta tank and take hold of your wrist. 
“You said you would not leave.” His eyes are much more intense than before, and you blink at him in confusion before you reach for his wrist and massage his skin. 
“I’m not. I was just going to bring you a towel.” You don’t dare look away from him, knowing that he might misunderstand your behavior and think that he made you uncomfortable. Instead of letting go of your hand, he shuts his eyes and rests his head back against the edge of the tank before he lowers his arm into the water again. You don’t bother asking him why he was so afraid of remaining in the bacta tank by himself, and instead shift closer to him so your own hand can hold onto him better. Pushing your arm deeper into the water, you grab hold of his forearm and rest your head against the side of the glass, all the while studying his calm and relaxed features as the medicinal components of the liquid began to work through his wounds. 
Time passes easily as Ben relaxes further in the water, and you trace small shapes across his forearm to help ease his anxiety. You notice the occasional eyebrow twitch whenever the water gets warmer and bubbles around his arm. You study him closely and try your best to think less of what his skin would feel like sliding against your own as he coaxes pleasure from your body, but then his upper thigh touches the back of your hand suddenly and your attention shifts from his features to the expanse of his legs. 
You lick your lips when you see old scars littering his light, golden muscles and the thought that he could manhandle you any minute if he wished to causes you to clench your thighs tightly. Looking up at his face one last time, you make sure his eyes are still closed and serene before you allow yourself to memorize his broad form. Your breathing becomes erratic as you trail your gaze down his torso, fingers itching to reach over and rub across the blonde, reddish hair adorning his chest and stomach. There’s nothing you want more than to ask him what he used to do before he came to Tatooine, but you know that it would only make him feel worse for not opening up to you any further. 
Stars, he must have been someone important if there are this many scars across his body. 
As you descend your focus down his body, you fixate on his hips and the dip of skin below the edge of the shorts. It was such a shame he hid his body from the world. You knew many who would pay good money just to look at a specimen like Ben. He was hard and soft in all the right places, and from the looks of the slowly forming bulge straining against the fabric, you got the sense that he could have anyone he wanted. He would only say a word and they would come. 
Literally. 
“Do you always stare at your wounded clients as if they are exotic delicacies?” Ben’s deep voice makes you jump from your place, and you try to remove your hand from him but he holds onto your arm tightly and keeps you close to the bacta tank. 
“I- I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have-” You try to think of a believable reason behind you openly and shamelessly gawking at his nudity but words fail you when you meet his eyes and notice just how dilated and almost hungry his pupils are. 
“I was not complaining, my darling.” It’s soothing to hear that he doesn’t mind the way you’re staring at him, but you turn away with a smile on your face when he tilts his head to the side and mirrors your own actions. You can tell he’s also raking his eyes over your body from your periphery, and you hope he likes whatever he sees. 
“If you must know…no, I don’t.” You pretend to pick at something on your dress when you finally manage to utter a grammatically correct sentence. The little hum Ben throws at you is somehow in response to your words as well as his own actions, and you wish he didn’t have such an intense effect on you. 
“Hmm.”
“Only those I find interesting.” You look back at him, and feel your heart skip a beat when you see the way he’s staring at the skin peeking from underneath the thin fabric of the dress. 
“You find me interesting?” His hand slithers further up your arm until he’s grasping your shoulder, and your breathing grows erratic when the dampness of his palm drips down your exposed shoulders and wets the top of the dress. His eyes are becoming more difficult to hold contact with but you remain steadfast, wanting him to know of the effect he’s having on you, wanting him to see how easily can have you, how quickly you’d submit to him if he so much as touches your cheek again. 
“Y-yes, amongst other things.” Against your better judgment, you reach for his hair with your hand and comb it away from his face, wanting to take a better look at him in case he decided to take this a step further. What you don’t expect is for Ben to take hold of the edge of the tank and push himself up until he’s only a few inches away from you. You can feel the heat of the water radiating off of his body, and you wish he could just drag you to your bed and fuck you until you couldn’t remember anything but the sound of his name falling from your lips. 
“Enlighten me then.” Ben breathes against the corner of your mouth, and you part your lips in hopes of tasting his smile on your tongue. His scent overwhelms you in the best way possible, and you hate how it will soon become the same as the oils you’ve set aside for him. 
A strange thought breaks through the spell you’ve fallen under, and you realize too late that your expression is reflecting the worry taking hold of your heart when Ben’s smile falters for a moment, and sits back in the water as he makes note of the reluctant look aimed at him. 
“I…don’t want to lose you.” It’s perhaps the most vague sentiment you can ever tell anyone during such a moment, mostly because it wasn’t prefaced by a related question. You don’t know what else to say though and you know nothing else will come close to explaining the fear of never seeing Ben again. Thinking that he might get weirded out by the rather general statement, you turn away from him to prepare for whatever cold, uncommitted response you’ll receive from him. 
But like before, Ben surprises you and takes hold of your chin in between his fingers. As much as you don’t want to look at him, you obey his soft yet assertive motion and slowly face him. His expression switches to a more welcoming and teasing smile when he finally looks into your eyes and you can’t control your own muscles as you focus on his inviting body language. Against your better judgment, you reach for him and place one hand on his chest while the other grabs his upper arm, wanting to keep yourself grounded so you don’t run away from him as soon as he speaks. 
“You will not lose me, little one. I only ask that you speak in truths.” Ben grows bold with his touches, waiting until you slip your hand a little lower across his stomach before he traces your lower lip with his thumb. His gaze shifts to your parted lips and he licks his own when he notices your tongue peak out and almost wrap around his fingers. 
“I- I could never lie to you Ben. Never.” You shut your eyes and whisper to him as he continues to draw patterns over your heated flesh. When you feel his hand descend lower and rest on top of your neck, you squeeze his arm and urge him to do as he wishes freely and without worry. He doesn’t flex one finger and you come close to pulling him into your space, but before you can do that, you feel the hold he has on your neck tighten a bit, forcing you to open your eyes and look straight into his. 
“Promise?” Ben asks as he moves out of the water closer to you, not caring a single bit for how wet you’re becoming the more he touches you. His palm is now firmly encompassing your neck like a necklace, and you trail your hand from his biceps down his arm slowly until you have a firm grip on his wrist. A sigh of relief escapes both of your mouths in unison as you come to the same conclusion seconds apart. 
Ben came to your parlor tonight with no hope of ever becoming brave enough to tell you how deeply he cares for you, and as soon as you saw him, you prayed to the maker that it wouldn’t be the last time he’d visit you. 
As you now stare deeply into each others’ eyes, you come to understand that your desires have always mirrored each other, and that you are more than willing to give into the weeks and months of desperate need, even if you were uncertain of what would happen after tonight.  
“Please.” 
You plead against his cheek and hold your breath when you feel his other arm slowly wrap around your waist. He’s about to pull you towards him when the bacta tank shuts down and causes the waters to remain still. Ben clenches his jaw tightly as a new silence fills the room, and he reluctantly pulls away from you when he opens his eyes and sees a similar expression of irritation etched on your features. He can’t help but chuckle though as you roll your eyes at the timing of the sound. 
“Hmm, I do believe you owe me a massage.” He lets go of you and maneuvers himself around until he’s kneeling in the large glass tub. Ben says nothing as he slowly stands in the bacta tank and stares down at you, and it’s only when he tilts his head to the side and raises an eyebrow that you realize he’s waiting for you to bring him a towel so he doesn’t make a mess of your floors. 
“S-sorry, yes. I uhh- I did say that.” You shake your head and run towards one of your dressers, instantly reaching for the softer towels you reserved for yourself without a thought. You bring it back to him and try your best to avoid looking at the way the fabric of the long shorts hug his skin. You ignore the prominent bulge begging for your attention as you hand him the towel, not waiting for him to dry himself before you walk to the massage table near the window and prepare it for him. 
Ben doesn’t pull his attention away from you for a second, and a new amusement takes over him when he sees how hard you’re trying to remain respectful when a moment ago, you were practically presenting yourself to him on a golden platter. He takes advantage of your sudden shyness and slips out of the shorts you handed him earlier. Hanging them on the edge of the bacta tank, Ben wraps the towel around his waist and fastens it at the corner before he slowly walks towards you. 
He wants nothing more than to push himself flush against your back, but he reminds himself that this back and forth teasing would be well worth it once you finally told him what you truly wanted. 
“It’s up to you whether you want to keep the shorts on or-” The words die in your throat when you turn around and see Ben standing a few feet away from you wrapped in a towel. Your eyes shift to the bacta tank behind, and when you realize that he’s wearing nothing underneath the soft fabric slowly clinging tighter to his body, you gulp nervously and move aside so he could climb onto the bed. 
“The last thing I intend is to make a mess of your room. If you mind of course, I will gladly put them on again.” Ben teases as he approaches you, only to chuckle at you when you cut him off with a rather quick and enthusiastic response. 
“NO! I mean…uhh, no that’s- that’s okay. Whatever makes you comfortable.” You mentally kick yourself when you hear him hum at you, rolling your eyes at the grin that appears on his handsome features as he begins climbing onto the massage bed.
“Like I said earlier, please tell me if I do something you don’t like.” You say as Ben maneuvers himself around until he’s laying on his stomach, wanting him to remember that he was still completely in charge. When he settles down and fixes the towel around his hips, you take a deep breath and will yourself to think of anything but how inviting his skin looks. 
“Judging by the number of times you’ve spoken similar words to me, I suspect it is I who is making you uncomfortable.” Ben glances to the side and smirks at you when he sees you nervously clutching the different flasks of oil near your chest. 
“Uncomfortable wouldn’t be the word I’d use.” You whisper to him as you set one flask down and tilt the other in your hand until enough is poured in your palm. You move around to begin at his upper back when Ben sits up and silently stares at you. You know what he’s asking and you hate how it only takes one simple look for you to be at his mercy. 
“Nervous perhaps…or umm, overwhelmed. Whichever you find more pleasing.” You blink away and take another step towards him, hoping he’d get the idea and drop the subject before you knelt down and pleaded for him to claim you. 
“It is not my intention to inspire such feelings within you, little one.” Ben says firmly, and you realize he probably assumed the negative connotations behind those words, not the ones you actually felt. He doesn’t bother to lay back down again and you dread having to clarify what you meant when you said he made you nervous. 
“It’s you so I- I don’t mind it.” You smile shyly at him, and look down at your hands when you see the second he catches on to what you’re saying. Ben hums lowly as he settles down again and you sigh in relief at managing to convince him to move on without you embarrassing yourself any further. Before the warm oil trickles down your wrist any further, you softly begin to rub it across his upper back and bite into your lower lip when you feel Ben relax at your touch as soon as you dig your thumbs into the muscles across his shoulders. He tenses for a few seconds when you trail your palms all the way up to his neck, and you almost stop when you see the way he’s reacting to you. But when he groans deeply and stretches his neck down so you can have more access to his skin, you continue to stroke his shoulders until he visibly melts into the bed. 
You want to ask him if he wants you to do anything different, but as you pour more oil on his back and rub it until his skin is glistening like the golden suns, you forget how to form a coherent sentence. The longer you knead those knots, the louder Ben’s moans grow, so much so that you vaguely hear him apologizing for the inappropriate sounds he was conveying to you. 
It’s only when you focus on his biceps and triceps that he finally breaks the silence and snaps you out of your haze again. 
“Tell me.” Ben demands all of a sudden and you halt in your movement when you sweep your eyes over to his face and see them wide open and staring right at you. 
“W-what?”
“I think you know,” he grins at you, raising a curious eyebrow when you blink at him knowingly before you return to massaging his left arm, purposely avoiding the right one in case he still felt pain coursing through it. 
“This is hardly the time to-” For the first time since you’ve met him, Ben cuts you off mid-sentence and raises his head far enough to take a proper look at you. You ignore the way he’s looking at you and focus on his forearm, praying to the maker that he doesn’t notice your skin crawling with goosebumps every time you feel the hair on his arms tickle your fingers. 
“Do not attempt to distract me, darling. On the contrary, I believe this is the perfect time to tell me what you think of me.” He rests his cheek against the pillow once more, but you knew he wouldn’t drop this anytime soon. You move around to stand at the head of the bed, and as you reach for the other flask of oil, you feel Ben’s hands reach down and grip your upper thighs to pull you closer. 
“B-Ben…”
“I only wished to bring you closer, nothing more.” He whispers to you as he returns his hands to his sides again, making you wish he wasn’t so respectful of whatever boundaries remained between the two of you. Shaking those filthy thoughts from your head, you don’t care how intimate you’re nearing him as you lean down and push your hands down the center of his back until you’ve reached the edge of the towel. Ben moans shamelessly when you slip your fingers beneath the towel and push your thumbs harshly into the round muscles of his butt. You continue to apply pressure up and down his back, occasionally loosening the towel to get better access to his backside. You almost giggle when you see Ben raising his hips off of the bed to allow you to pull on the towel, but you hold yourself back, afraid he might think you’re laughing at him. 
Without giving him a warning, you take the oil and move to the opposite end of the bed, choosing to ignore the way he spreads his legs wider to get more comfortable. Mirroring your actions from before, you pour the oil on one leg and dig your knuckles into his calves until you hear him sigh in relief again. Ben says nothing else for a while and you suspect it is due to how close you’re beginning to get to the more sensitive areas. Even though you slip your hands underneath the towel again, you make sure to only reach the lower skin of his upper thighs and no further, not wanting him to think you want to force him through distraction. As you turn to the other leg, you can’t help but admire the numerous dips and scars across his entire body. Again, there was nothing necessarily attractive about a body mapped with different types of scars, especially when you could tell that some of them weren’t left behind by a simple blaster but by something that ran much hotter. 
A strange thought enters your mind all of a sudden at a particularly nasty gash you saw on his side earlier, but you brush it aside when you realize how pathetic it must be. There’s no way this man ever came in contact with something like a lightsaber. He mostly kept to himself. Besides, if he did ever meet the end of such a weapon, there was no chance he could live and tell the tale. 
“You’re drifting again.”
“Sorry, I was just…I was admiring your body.” You decide to stick as close to the truth as possible without making a fool out of yourself. 
“There is nothing to admire about an old man’s beaten body.” You know he meant to pass his comment off as a joke, but the self-deprecating, almost sad tone of his voice makes you think he probably thought you were bluffing to avoid answering any of his questions. 
“Turn around for me.” You tap his leg twice and pretend to distract yourself with something on your dress so you don’t accidentally get an eyeful of what’s below the towel should it slip by accident from him. It takes him a little longer than usual to settle down again, and when you turn around to look at him, you realize it’s because of the not-so-subtle reaction his body was having in response to your touch. 
“I told you I’d never lie to you Ben, and I meant it.” Ben’s eyes flutter open at your words, and he watches you closely as you pour oil on his chest and slowly rub it across his scarred skin. His gaze is more intense than ever, and you don’t dare break contact with his eyes out of fear of making him think you are lying to him. 
“I’ve seen many through the years, almost every type of shape and color and size…but none compare to yours. You’re…unique, in the most beautiful way possible.” You swear his chest rumbles with a growl at your confession, and you bite into your cheek when you see it rise and fall at a quicker pace. Looking down at his hands, you barely manage to hold back from digging your nails into his chest when you see the way he’s clenching his fists tightly at your comment.
“I- I am most flattered by your a-admiration but-” Ben grunts when you accidentally graze one of his nipples, his mind instantly going into hyperdrive and making him lose his train of thoughts. “But I highly doubt this is the most impressive form you’ve ever come across.” His voice is strained, that you’re certain of, and you want to see how far you can take it with him before he can no longer hold back. You’re close to thinking against it, but as you continue to knead his tight muscles, you notice a dark blush creeping down his neck to his chest and decide to tease him just a little bit more.
“Are you seriously going to mansplain to me who I find attractive?” You ask in what you hope is your most stern tone, and it must be more assertive than you think because Ben turns away from your hands and focuses on you again with a slight hint of panic coloring his cheeks. 
“No, I- I would never presume to tell you h-” Ben falters when he notices a dangerous glint in your eyes, and he drops his head against the pillow once he understands you were only trying to get on his nerves. 
“You minx,” he whispers beneath his breath and shuts his eyes again, allowing you a moment of respite to pay more attention to his tired muscles. A different silence falls over the room soon after, and you finally manage to take your mind away from the many things you wish to do to Ben. There’s an occasional sigh that falls from his lips every time you dig your knuckles into a particularly knotted muscle. 
Making your way around the bed, you clear your throat softly as you work your way down his stomach, and Ben becomes more vocal as he feels your hands descend beneath the edge of the towel again. Unlike earlier, when you kept your touches right at the top of the soft fabric, you become more bold with him and bring your fingers right where his waist dips and creates that faint v-line. He hisses as soon as your nails pass across the coarse hair peppering his navel at the top of his crotch, and his eyes flutter open instantly, only to see you already staring at him with a fire he’s never seen on another’s features before. 
“Sweet one,” Ben bites into his lower lip as you shiver at the endearment, and he reaches for your wrist slowly to hold onto it, afraid that he won’t be able to say what he really wants if you continued to map his skin as if you already claimed it. 
“Ben,” you sigh his name as you slip from his grip and move on to his legs. He watches you closely and furrows his eyebrows when you pour more oil on your palms and begin to rub his legs. He sits up on his elbows and gulps nervously as you move beneath the towel and move the warm viscous liquid up his thighs. Almost on instinct, Ben spreads his thighs to give you more access, and he somehow finds the will to continue breathing even as you stare straight into his eyes the higher you go up his thighs. 
“Believe me when I tell you, I’ve never met anyone I wanted to worship this much. You’re more beautiful than any star, and I want nothing more than to ease your pain, perhaps even your loneliness.” You coo at him, and watch as he struggles to find a proper response to your revelation. When he takes too long to say anything, you bring your body as close to his own as possible and drive your nails deeper into the skin of his thick thighs. Ben groans deeply and you can’t help but smile at him when you see the prominent tent forming underneath the towel flex slightly before it rests again. 
“You- you find me attractive?” The disbelief in his voice almost causes you to double over in laughter because not an hour ago, he had his hand wrapped around your throat like he had every right to touch you so intimately and here he was still questioning, not only your behavior, but your words as well. 
“Oh come on baby, I said that ages ago. Catch up and I promise to make you feel good.” Your fingers trail a little higher again, making Ben jolt all of a sudden and fist his hands against the bedsheets. 
“Dear one…do not think you need to do this for my sake. I hold the utmost respect towards you and I cannot bear the thought of ever forcing you to-” The rest of the sentiment dies in his throat as soon as you lean over him and rest your cheek against his hip. Ben ceases to breathe when you flutter your eyelashes at him as you turn to the knot on the side of the towel and bite into it. You don’t move another muscle though, wanting to give him the chance to push you away or apologize for not wanting to do this. When he inches his hand slowly to your neck and nods at you, you give his waist a quick kiss before you take the fabric of the towel between your teeth and pull on it. 
Ben grips your neck tightly as you raise your head and bring the towel away from his skin. He tries to sit up on his elbows again but he realizes too soon he doesn’t have the strength to do anything apart from stare at you as you worshiped him. 
You, on the other hand, don’t look down at the newly exposed skin, wanting Ben to see that you are willing to take things slow for his sake. Your palms remain planted on his inner and outer thigh, and when the knot comes undone, you push the fabric across his hips until it falls on either side of him. 
“Darling I-” He starts to say something but you cut him off instantly, wanting to tell him everything you’ve felt for him ever since he bid you a shy ‘hello’ that fateful time. 
“Tell me what you want Ben, please. I’ll do anything to please you, anything. You- you’ve been on my mind for so long, and I just want to make you feel good. Do what you want with me…use me, my hands, my mouth…my-”
The only warning you have before Ben drags you on top of him is a deep growl conveying nothing but absolute desperation and anguish. You’re shocked by the sudden display of power Ben exhibits all of a sudden, not because you didn’t think he was capable of pulling you into his lap with ease, but because you didn’t think he’d ever grow so bold with you. Up until now, he’s been nothing but a gentleman, always asking you in his own way if you were still comfortable with whatever was going on between the two of you. But to see him lose his self-control to the point where he had to bring you on top of him without a care for his own fatigued muscles sets your chest on fire.
“S-stars…Ben-” You moan his name when he twists his fingers into your hair and tugs on it until your throat is on full display for him. No sooner than that do you feel his mouth kissing and nipping at the juncture of your neck, and don’t dare push him away for even a second. It’s Ben’s turn to grunt against you as you dig your fingers into his chest, and without putting much thought into it, he wraps his other arm around your back and forces your chest flush against his own. He can feel your pert nipples rub deliciously against his chest, and he reminds himself that he still has to ask for permission before he rips your flimsy dress to bits. 
“Have you any idea of the effect you have on me?” 
You sigh heavily as you gyrate your hips against his hard cock, giggling to yourself when the action distracts him from leaving his mark on every bit of your skin. 
“I- I think I have a small idea actually…well, it’s not that small actually. More like a- oh fuck, oh my stars…it’s a hard, thick, delicious idea.” Your jumbled words earn you a chuckle from the man beneath you, and you open your eyes to look down at him when he lays back down against the pillow and brings you along with him. 
“It is you who deserves to be worshiped, sweet one. Believe me, I want nothing more than to take my time with you, relish in the way I coax pleasure from every bit of this lovely body of yours, mark you with kisses that rival the stars in this galaxy…but I can bear it no longer.” His unabashed confessions send a strike of lightning down your spine, making you arch your back against him to feel his lips on your heated skin again. You sink your fingers into his hair the harder he pulls you against him, and only when his palm grabs at your ass and pushes it against his cock do you dare to pull on his sun-kissed strands. Ben thrusts his hips into your stomach, the sensation of his hard and heavy length reminding you of how full you will feel in a matter of minutes. 
Pleading words slowly form on your lips in response to his rather needy requests, but you can’t find the will to part with them due to the sheer hold Ben has on you, physically and emotionally. His arms tighten around you when he notices you trying to remove yourself from him. You look down to try and put his mind at ease, tell him that you’d never think of letting him go now that he was touching you so sweetly. But as soon as you set your eyes on his own dilated ones, you forget how to breathe and pray that he puts you out of your misery. Thankfully, Ben doesn’t take too long to notice the hungry way in which you continue to eye his lips, and before either of you say anything else, he’s pulling you down by the neck and meeting you halfway with what you would later describe as the most breathtaking kiss you’d ever been gifted in your entire life. 
You always thought Ben would kiss you softly, perhaps slip his tongue reluctantly into your mouth if you parted your lips for him. And perhaps he does savor such soft touches, you pray you can find out later if he prefers them. This moment, however, reminds you that this man was very much capable of bringing you to your knees with a simple look if he so wished. The thought of being at his mercy forces you closer to him, and you tilt your head to the side as he deepens the kiss, his tongue working magic against you and allowing you to look forward to where else it can leave its mark. 
Judging from the hungry and aggressive control Ben displays, you don’t bother trying to take control of the moment. The hum of approval he graces you with when he feels you completely melt against him coaxes a moan from your throat, and you manage to break the kiss for one second to breathe before Ben shoves his mouth against yours again. You almost sob at how much he wants you, and you almost do as well. But when you feel his fingers slowly tug on the ends of your long clothes, you forget everything else and raise yourself above him a few inches to give him more access to your clothes. It’s his turn to break the kiss, and you nuzzle into his neck and whimper when he bunches your dress all the way across your hips. 
“Love, will you let me have you? I promise to pleasure you later with nothing but my lips, kiss every inch of your skin until you beg me to stop. But right now, I- Force help me, I will surely die if I do not feel the heat of your cunt around my cock.” Ben pleads against your ear, kissing and nipping across the heated skin of your cheek as he keeps the dress around your waist with one hand while the other squeezes your ass. The soft material of your panties makes him slam his head against the pillow twice to control himself until you give him a proper answer. 
“Maker…please just-” You cry his name once he slips his fingers beneath the flimsy article of clothing and pulls on it until it’s perfectly nestled across your aching clit. It strains against his ministrations, and you wish he can just rid you of it so you can feel his cock slide against your cunt. Not knowing what else to do, you turn to him a little and leave a trail of wet kisses from his beard down to the clenched muscles of his neck and shoulders. When you slowly begin to suck your mark on his jugular, Ben thrusts his cock hard against you again, almost causing you to slip from his lap at the sudden and aggressive reaction. He can feel your dress still keeping you from him and in an effort to maneuver you better so he can slip it off, his fingers slip below the front of your panties and pass deliciously against your wet cunt. Both of you cease all movement instantly, but the warmth of his hand feels too good against your pulsating clit so you throw all caution aside and push yourself harder against him. His fingers pass perfectly across your slit and forces an obscene moan deep from your throat. 
“Let me have you. Let me make love to you sweetheart. Let me mark you as mine…claim you so the stars know whom you belong to.” Ben pleads one last time as he expertly rubs your clit and grips your hair tightly to have some semblance of control until you consent to his needs.
“Please Ben, I- I want you so fucking badly. Do whatever you want with me. I don’t care what you do, just don’t stop touching me. Make me yours…oh fuck, take me now, and don’t be gentle.” You were never one to beg for anything from a man, but as Ben tilts his head to the side and whispers the faintest promises to you, you throw all self-consciousness and respect aside for the sake of meeting the end of those confessions. 
“Anything for you, love.” Ben promises against your lips, not wasting another precious second as he lets go of your ass and brings his hand to his mouth. You watch as he spits on his fingers and shoves those same digits into your mouth to collect your own essence before he reaches for his cock. You try to throw your head back to savor the moment but Ben keeps a firm grip on your hair, silently letting you know that he wanted to watch as he filled you with his dick for the first time. You furrow your eyebrows at the vague sensation of Ben’s hands rubbing his cock to with your combined spit, and when you can’t take it any longer, you cry his name again to urge him on. 
“Fuck me…please Ben.”
The request washes over Ben like a prayer, and he leans up to capture your lips in another heated kiss just as he shoves your panties to the side and teases your clit with the head of his cock. You can feel how warm and hard he is against your slit, and you shove your hips forward to try and catch his length in between your wet lips. Ben is quicker though, and he holds you back with a simple pull to your strands, a small warning to ensure that you understand who was in control. 
“Little one, I want to hear you beg for my cock. Beg me to fill your cunt.” The filthy command sends a shiver down your spine, and you begin to shake in his arms the more he teases your clit with his length. 
“Ben, I can’t- maker, it hurts. It hurts not having you inside me. I can’t take it anymore, I want you to fill me with your cock. Fuck me the way you’ve always wanted, I- I promise to be good for you. Please…please give me y- ahhh…”
He almost panics at the first few words you sob as you stare deep into his eyes, and it’s only when you continue that Ben finally understands just how much you want him. He was planning on teasing you until the whole planet knew who was making you feel so needy, but the way you moan to him your craving for his cock sends him over the edge. Without warning, Ben pulls you until your chest is flush against his own, and before you can say anything else, he slowly inches his cock into your pussy, halting every few seconds to give you a chance to get used to the intrusion. 
“Fuck me Ben, I n-need you to…fu-uck me.” Your voice barely comes out as a whisper, and it takes every ounce of focus and control in Ben’s system to not thrust into your heat quickly and fill you over and over again. 
“I don’t wish to hurt you.” He lets go of your hair and wraps both of his arms around your back in an attempt to comfort you. But you can’t find it in yourself to care for whether he will leave you bruised and hurt. All you seem to want is to feel him everywhere, and you do so by wrapping your arms around his neck and shoving your face into the crook of his neck again. 
“I want it to hurt…I want to feel you for days. I- I need it Ben.” You hope that he understands how truthful you are, but Ben remains still for a few seconds more, making you shake with desperate need for more. More of his kisses, his gaze, his touch, his thick cock carving your cunt to fit you perfectly. 
“Please.” You plead one last time, and it must be all he needs to hear because in an instant, Ben is spreading his legs wider until his feet are planted firmly against the bed. 
“I feel you will be the death of me, my darling.” You part your lips to respond to him but the world seems to fade away all of a sudden as Ben snaps his hips up against you and fills you completely. The force of his action sends you over the edge easily, coaxing the quickest of pleasures from your body in such a way that makes it difficult to hold onto that last sliver of control you had left over your mind and soul. You sigh heavily against his skin, not sure of relief or pain, but the moment is cut short when Ben is forcibly shoved out of your cunt with a strange sensation. Neither of you know what just happened, but you soon realize the response of your body to Ben’s desperate ministrations when he takes hold of his cock again to push into your cunt and feels just how wet his navel and your thighs now were. 
“Did- did you just…” The shock on Ben’s features embarrasses you to no end, and you try to find an excuse to convey to him so he doesn’t think you’re as pathetic as a loth cat in heat, but all words fail you when you meet his eyes and see how far dilated they are. He must see worry etched on your features because he doesn’t give you a chance to think more of what just transpired and pushes his cock past your wet slit again. Whatever you’re about to say evaporates into thin air as you clench your core to get used to his size again, and before you know it, he’s fully sheathed in your tight walls, hard and hot as you always thought he would be.
“Maker…your cunt knows to whom it belongs already, doesn’t it sweetheart? It knows me…and I barely touched you.” Ben asks without looking away from you, arms slowly roaming the expanse of your body until you completely melt against him. He slips a hand around your upper back until he’s tugging the hair on the nape of your neck, his other arm circling your waist perfectly and holding you flush against him. When he ensures the tight grasp he has around you, he repositions himself again until his feet are flat against the sheets. Before you can respond to his question, which you noticed was laced with nothing but pride at having mastered your body in the span of only a few minutes, he snaps his hips against you once to give you a taste of what’s to come. 
“Yes, I- I’m yours Ben. All yours…e-ever since I met you, I-” You’re searching for the proper words to whisper to him, but you come to the realization that he never intended for you to actually respond to him. With every syllable you manage to breathe against his neck, Ben thrusts his cock deep into your cunt, filling you deliciously time and again until you memorize the feeling of him as he brought you pleasure. 
“Hmm?” A cocky smirk breaks out on his handsome features, and you wish with all your heart you can smack it away. Instead, you relish in the fact that Ben—sweet, quiet, and shy Ben—didn’t mind showing you this side of him. You never thought you’d ever come to the point in your relationship where you could hear such filthy declarations from him, let alone see him teasing you so openly. You snap out of the momentary spell he’s put you under when he slows down and brings you impossibly close to him until you can feel nothing but his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes you see stars. Your thighs begin to shake when he doesn’t move, and as you attempt to sit up so you can take over, Ben shakes his head and tightens his hold around you.  
“Please just-” You plead with him, praying to the maker that he can put you out of your misery and fuck you into the next moon already. He drags his fingers down your back and pushes your ass down against him, forcing you to roll your hips around his cock until your legs continue to violently shake. You can feel every ridge and protruding vein swipe deliciously across your walls, and you fight to take a deep breath so you don’t lose your mind over the feeling of him marking every inch of your heat with the wet, hard skin of his tip.  
“I won’t ask again, sweet one. Tell me.” His voice is hoarse, unlike all the other times throughout the night when he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. You can’t help the shiver that runs across your skin at the sound of his tone, mostly because you never thought that your Ben would be this vocal and dirty during such an intimate moment. You thought he would be too shy to tell you what he desires, but the harder he pushes you down on him while thrusting his hips up into you, the more you understand that this was always the Ben you spoke with, he just needed a little bit of patience and love to return to whom he once was.
“Ever since I met you, I knew that…oh fuck, I knew that I could never be with anyone else. You- stars, please move Ben. I’m so full of you but- fuck…need to feel you everywhere. ‘Ve dreamt of giving you everything…and now I- I just…I can’t take it anymore.” When he doesn’t give any inclination of letting you go, you give into his embrace and wrap your arms around his shoulders, slowly leaving a trail of wet kisses across his neck and clavicle to urge him on. He squeezes your ass as he rolls your hips around, tilting his head to the opposite side to give you more access to the expanse of his skin. You sink your teeth into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, making him shove his cock harshly into your cunt unintentionally and sending you closer into his arms. 
It’s in this moment that Ben wants nothing more than to reach out to your Force signature and feel you envelop him fully. But he’s reluctant to do so, not only because it’s been a decade since he’s done something so intimate, but also because he didn’t think he could share this part of himself with you just yet. You’ve been nothing but understanding ever since you welcomed him into your room, before then even, but he doesn’t want to test his luck. Something about the way you wrap yourself around him though sets his mind at ease. He may not be able to tell you now, but he got the sense that he would eventually reach a level of comfort with you where he wouldn’t worry about your reaction to such a secret. 
For now, the knowledge that he only needed to kiss you to feel you melt into his arms would have to be enough. He’s been alone for so long, spent decades without feeling the touch of another. The last thing he wished to do was to complain about the limited way he can be with you. This was more than enough. 
Ben throws his head back in ecstasy when you kiss the corner of his mouth and tug on his hair, silently asking him if everything was okay. One look at the pleasure engraved on your features and his mind is at ease once more. He can still feel you shaking with want above him, and it drives him mad with lust. To think that someone like you, someone who’s met others more fascinating than him, easily submitted to him pushes him over the edge and roams his hands across your back in an effort to feel you surrender to him.
“Oh sweet one, you truly have gone cockdumb for me. So good for me, so fucking exquisite.” He growls his need against your cheek, watching with fascination as you rubbed your skin against his beard the harder he shoved his cock into your wet cunt. He wants to go slow, relish in the tightness and welcoming heat of your pussy as it swallows him enthusiastically. But your desperation makes him forget his mission. Ben chuckles as you whine and whimper the rougher the hair of his beard mark your skin and neck, and he’s about to pull away to give you some respite when you reach out further to him and continue stroking him like your life depends on it. 
“Yes, oh maker yes, I- I’ll be good. I promise…I’ll do anything you ask Ben.” Ben swears beneath his breath at the shameless tone of your voice as you let him do whatever he pleases with your body. Taking advantage of your momentary distraction, Ben unravels his arms from around your back and takes hold of the thin straps of your dress. You only have a second to realize you can’t feel his protective embrace around your tired form, and before you ask him why he let go of you, a loud ripping sound fills the room. Looking down, you notice that he’s pulled the top of your dress to shreds and shoved it down your chest until you were revealed to his hungry eyes.
In your line of work, you’ve grown used to the way your clients tended to eye your body as you walked by. You even thought you’d never get to feel the rush of pleasure coursing through your veins at the thought of being the object of desire for someone. But as you study Ben’s reaction to finally seeing your nude form, you suddenly feel too exposed to your liking and slowly let go of his shoulders to cover yourself. Ben is quicker though, and he drags your wrists away from your body before pushing them behind your back and holding them tightly in one of his palms. 
“You beautiful star…and here I thought I- kriffing hells, I would need to kneel before you to get the faintest glimpse of…maker help me, of your desires.” Ben groans deeply as he leans forward and takes your nipple in his mouth. You can easily break free from the hold he has on your wrists, but choose against it, wanting to relish in how dominant and wanton this man has become for you. His tongue works magic on your pert nipples, and you work your hips harder onto his cock when his teeth tug softly on your hardened peak. It’s his turn to whimper beneath you, and you smile to yourself as he lets go and pays equal attention to your other breast. You look down again and watch as Ben hungrily marks your chest with his teeth, and you push yourself into his mouth to make sure he claims as much of you as possible. 
“But I should have expected this, should have known you would bend to my will in an instant.” Ben whispers as he lays back down against the bed and brings you along with him. He must see the effect his voice and his words are having on you because soon after, he starts fucking up into you with abnadon, returning his other hand to your back and using your arms to control your movements more easily. He wants to come so kriffing badly but he holds back to feel you let go for him again. You can’t hold yourself up anymore and completely lose yourself to the plethora of sensations that were possible only through Ben. Nuzzling into his neck, you cry his name over and over again as you reach that familiar high once more, praying to the stars that he continues fucking you through your orgasm so you can think of nothing else but him. 
“That’s it love, come for me again. Come on my cock, mark me with your sweet essence.” Ben kisses your forehead as he urges you to come for him, and even though he’s coaxed pleasure from you so easily before, he’s still surprised to feel your walls clench tightly around him soon after as your release washes over him. He fucks you through it, relishing in how violently your whole body shakes against him the more he prolongs your orgasm. When you beg and whine his name so he could at least slow down, Ben fights with himself against turning you around and fucking into you wihtout a care for anything else. He slows down to a stop but doesn’t pull out just yet, wanting to commit this moment to memory so he can return to it later as he touches himself to the thought of you giving every bit of yourself to him so freely. 
His cock twitches the more your muscles spasm around him, and he hisses when you try to move off of him and sink deeper on his dick. 
“B-Ben?” Your voice comes out barely louder than a whisper, and Ben worries for a moment that he may have gone a bit too far with you. 
“Ahh, little one- you’re so exquisitely tight around me.” It’s not what he wants to say, but it is what escapes his lips when you fall back against his chest and your pert nipples rub against the damp hair peppering his chest. 
“Keep going, don’t- don’t stop. Please.” You look into his eyes as you ask him to keep going, and Ben almost gives into your request when he locks his gaze with you and sees how genuine your pleading words are.
“But you m-must be sensitive. I don’t wish to-” The last thing he wishes to do is to stop, but he doesn’t want you to feel obligated to do anything else. When you lean down and take his lips in a heated kiss, Ben’s worries flutter away along and become replaced with a need unlike anything he’s ever felt before. You sneak your tongue into his mouth and fight to mark him as he’s done with you. Unlike before, when Ben would have pulled your hair to remind you who’s in charge, he allows you to do what you wish, knowing that he would control your body again in a few moments. 
“I don’t care, ahhh I don’t. I just want to feel you, want your cock to fill me up till I- oh fuck, till I can’t feel anything but how perfect and hard and hot you feel in my pussy. Mark me, I want it Ben.” You break the kiss and gasp against his skin when you notice how pliant he’s become beneath you. Nipping at his neck, you relish the clear reddened marks slowly appearing everywhere you’ve attended to, the sudden need to see his skin  glistening with your spit and teeth marks making you return to biting and licking him again. 
“Have I not claimed every inch of your skin enough? Have I not already trained your body to recognize my touch…my lips…my cock?” Ben barely manages to respond, the sensation of your mouth claiming him making him impossibly hard inside your pussy. He moans in between every word he breathes out to you, fingers digging into your waist and back when you grow more bold and aggressive with your marking. 
“No- it’s…that’s not- I need you to mark me. Mark me with your seed. Come inside me and claim me.” 
Time seems to stop as soon as Ben registers what you’ve just asked of him. He doesn’t dare move a muscle as he watches you lean up and make contact with his shocked eyes. 
“Little one, are you sure?” The question is whispered and you can’t help but think that it’s because Ben was trying to keep himself in check so he doesn’t breed you then and there. You let go of his neck to grab his hand, thanking the maker that he wasn’t fighting for dominance during such a moment. You take his fingers and trail them down your arm, and when they settle above the skin of your forearm, you push those digits and move them around until Ben feels the small chip hiding beneath heated and flushed skin. You swear you notice the faintest hint of disappointment on his features, and the thought that he truly wanted to fill you with his seed and breed you almost makes you come again. 
“Gods yes…fuck your cum inside my cunt Ben, and fill me up.” You let go of his hand and tell him as you capture his lips in another searing kiss. 
“Force help me, the mouth on you…it's dangerous. What a filthy fucking girl you’ve been sweetheart. And you are all mine.” Ben doesn’t give you any warning as he suddenly sits up and wraps your legs around his waist. You throw your head back and dig your nails into the hair at the nap of his neck as he roams his calloused palms up and down your back until they land on your thighs. It’s his turn to leave bruising marks on your shoulders, and when he’s satisfied with how far gone into pleasure he’s sent you, he hops off of the massage bed and makes his way towards your own bed.
“Yes.” You shut your eyes and surrender to him, excitement rushing through your veins when you feel him harden and grow heated inside your cunt with every step he takes. 
“Mine to do with as I wish.” Ben commands as he holds you tightly against his chest, the need to feel every inch of you slide deliciously across him outweighing everything else. 
“Please.” You plead again, wanting him to move quicker to your bed so he could fuck you like you’ve dreamt of for weeks on end. 
“Mine to touch, mine to kiss, and mine to fuck when I please.” He smiles when he sees your skin erupt with goosebumps at his promising words, and he slides his hands down your back as he kneels on your bed until he softly lays you on your back. You let go of him, and stretch your arms across your sheets, looking at him through heavy-lidded eyes as he trails his hands over your glistening skin. He thrusts softly into your pussy and throws his head back when your walls flutter around his cock and pull him in deeper. 
“Stars, you feel heavenly wrapped around my cock, so wet and ready to be fucked properly.” Ben sighs into the quiet room, returning his gaze to you once more when you dig your nails into the skin of his thick thighs to get his attention. 
“Use me, fuck me like you’ve wanted.” 
“Oh, I intend to little one.” He raises a curious eyebrow at your choice in words, knowing fully well that you were trying to get a rise out of him to get what you wanted, what both of you craved for so long. Leaning down against you until his arms rested on either side of your head, Ben mouths the softest of kisses on your forehead and down your cheeks until you’re smiling hazily at him. 
“I assure you, I will not leave your bed until your cunt is drowning in my seed. Is that what you desire of me, love? You wish to be full of my cum?” Ben asks as he begins to plunge his cock harder into you, his dick growing impossibly harder when you wrap your arms around his back and pull him flush against you. 
“Y-yes, gods yes Ben.” You claim against his throat, crying in pain and pleasure as that familiar heat grows in your lower stomach. 
“Look at you, you're positively sinful.” His voice is strained as he picks up the pace, and he’s torn between shutting his eyes to focus on how warm you feel around him and opening them to memorize your beautiful expression as you come undone again. Looking down for a brief moment, Ben decides that he very much desires to look upon you as you let him use you, a part of him somehow still wanting to ensure that you were, in fact, writhing beneath him, and that this wasn’t another dream plaguing his lonely nights. 
“Oh Ben, you're- you're so deep inside me. Your cock is stretching me so…gods, it's addicting. Can’t get enough of you…won’t ever- mhmm get enough of you.” You’re not sure if you’re making any sense to him, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when his cock hits all the right spots that force you among the stars. 
“Good girl, good fucking girl…you're doing so well for me.” Again, the sound of his voice as he fights to speak turns you on way more than it should, and you mouth at whatever skin you can reach to show him how much you want him, how much you crave tasting him on your tongue every minute of every day. 
“I'm so close already…please I- ahhh Ben, I want you to come with me. Need it, ohhhh so much.” You open your eyes for a second, and the sight that greets you will forever be etched in your mind’s eye. 
Ben was furrowing his eyebrows, focused solely on you and nothing else as he drove his cock into your cunt so deep and fast that you could feel the tip of him hit your cervix precisely and consistently. The sound of skin slapping on skin and heavy grunts fills the room, pushing you impossibly closer to the edge faster than you thought possible. Ben bites into his lower lip when he notices the way you’re looking at him, and he swears for a moment that you were about to confess something to him he knew might pull him apart. You part your lips to breathe those three shameless words to him but hold back at the last minute, afraid it might ruin the moment and unintentionally push him away. 
“I can't…can't hold back much longer, little one. Your cunt is begging for my seed, pulling me in deeper each time I sink into you. I can feel- oh sweet one, I can feel your walls fluttering around me. You are close, aren’t you?” He snaps his hips roughly against you over and over again until your body begins to shake underneath him. Ben growls into the night air when you suddenly cross your legs behind his back and push him into you until all he can feel is the sheer need you’re displaying for him. 
“Ben, oh maker-”
“That's it, dear heart. Come for me, know this sensation…memorize how full you are now so you can't come without feeling my cock inside you.” Ben loses the last sliver of control he has on his mind when he looks down and sees you crying with shameless desperation for him. He wants to slow down for both of your sakes, but you fit too perfectly around him that he can’t decide whether he wants to burrow his way into your cunt or your soul. 
“I- I’m…Ben-” You want to say so much. You want to tell him how long you’ve waited for this, how lonely you felt each time he walked out of your parlor with the unspoken promise of never seeing you again. You want to breathe to him how difficult it is for you to go a single day without the thought of his smile and his eyes, how you dream every night of submitting every beat of your heart to him. Instead, you pray his name like a benediction across his lips until you can’t voice your pleasure anymore, and with a particular thrust that forces the coarse hairs on his lower navel to slide perfectly across your clit, you fall apart on his cock and clench so harshly around him that he instantly falls over the edge with you. 
“Oh darling, you are driving me mad with need. I- I burn for you, and now…fuck, now you will be mine.” It’s the last promise he commands on your flushed skin, and with a few more thrusts, Ben comes undone and sinks his cock as deep into your pussy as he can without hurting you. He feels you squeeze him tightly and a strike of lightning shoots down his spine when he feels you sink your teeth into his shoulder to hold back from screaming his name. He mirrors your action bites your neck as well, his balls twitching violently until he’s released his seed inside you and painted your tight walls with his cum. 
The two of you remain wrapped in each other’s arms for a while after, neither of you wishing to part so much as an inch out of fear of this all becoming an extremely vivid dream. Ben pants with difficulty above you, and he remembers to hold himself above you just as his arms begin to give out. You notice what he’s doing before he gets off of you, and you twist your legs across his lower back to ensure that he remains where he is. The action accidentally pushes his cock further in your cunt, making the two of you hiss out of pain and pleasure at the oversensitivity coursing through your muscles. 
When you’ve had enough time to return to yourself once more, you slowly massage his back and let go of his waist, knowing that he might not necessarily wish to cuddle with you after what you’ve done. Ben begins to pull away and you will your heart to remain silent so you don’t break apart in front of him. But instead of leaving, Ben smiles softly at you and leans down to capture your lips in a loving embrace. You part your mouth for him instantly, sighing in relief when he takes a page out of your book and roams his palms up and down your thighs to soothe you. 
“Are you hurt? Was I- did I hurt you, my darling?” He asks worryingly, eyes quickly moving down your form and making note of all the bruises he’s left over your skin. 
“No Ben, you- maker, you were perfect.” You shake your head and smile at him, chest clenching tightly at the thought of this man thinking that he can ever do something to make you uncomfortable. 
“You are sure I didn’t-” He tries to ask again, but you don’t give him a chance and pull him down for another kiss. His body melts against you right away, and you smile when you feel his beard tickle your chin as he deepens the kiss. You’re not sure how long the two of you remain intertwined in each other, but when the need for air grows, you lay your head back against the sheets and look up at him with a teasing eyebrow. 
“Yes…besides, I like it a little rough.”
“You are an incorrigible little vixen.” Ben shakes his head and chuckles when you shrug your shoulders and make a show of checking him out. He blushes a deep shade of red as soon as he feels your hand roam up and down his chest with a hungry look. 
“I meant it when I said you can do whatever you want with me.” You break the silence, and pretend to ignore the small twitch of his cock at your declaration. Taking his hand into yours, you bring it up and kiss his palm to distract yourself from pushing him down on his back and riding him until he begs you to show him mercy. 
“What?” You giggle when you look up and see the way Ben studies you, unable to decipher whether his expression was one of newfound interest in wanting to fuck you agian or judgement how much you crave him. 
“Have you any idea of the effect those words have on me?” He asks as he twists your hand in his own and lays the softest and most loving of kisses over your knuckles. 
“Maybe,” you respond cheekily with a roll of your hips, making Ben grunt and rest his forehead against your own. He meets your movement with a slow thrust and shivers once he recognizes the mess he’s made of the two of you. Mostly you…
“Hmm, I will never get enough of this…enough of you. I thought this burning would calm once I have you but,” he stops mid-sentence to nudge your nose with his own, only continuing when he looks down and sees sheer bliss written across the smile reaching your eyes. 
“But now I know.” Ben doesn’t finish the rest of his thought, a part of him wanting to still tease you and see if you were actively listening to him or just humoring his words while you surrendered to his hands. 
“W-what?” You don’t realize how difficult you find it to breathe until Ben’s low, gravelly voice washes over your clavicle and down your sternum with each wet kiss he leaves. 
“Now I know I must have you whenever I can,” Ben declares as he sucks on one nipple, not giving you a chance to escape him and pinching the other in between his thumb and index finger. You arch your back into him, pushing your chest against his aggressive touches to relish the sensations rising across your body once more. 
“And what will happen if- ahhh stars, if you don’t?” You whimper beneath him as soon as his teeth close over your hardened peak a little harsher than you expected. 
“My heart may burst.” He declares those simple words with such assurance that your heart skips a beat at how terrifyingly honest he’s being with you. 
“You r-really want me this much Ben?” You can’t help but ask, a part of you still afraid that he only laid with you out of loneliness and not because he only desired to be comforted and touched by you. 
“I believed my desires were etched upon my face as clear as the twin suns. Clearly I was mistaken. Sweetling, not a moment goes by without the mere thought of your smile plagues my mind.” He stops his quest to kiss every inch of you in order to look into your eyes to show you that he means every word he’s said thus far. Ben notices the tears slowly forming in your eyes at his confession, and he smiles lovingly at you before leaning down and kissing the tears away. 
“In that case, you can have me anytime you want. I’ll never say no to you Ben, never.” You try to set his mind at ease so he doesn’t think you’re growing too emotional to his liking, but Ben kisses you instead to set your mind at ease. 
“Dearest, you know not how those words fill me with joy.”
“I’m glad I can make you happy so easily.” You turn away from him and get distracted by all the reddened marks you left across his neck and shoulders. 
“To look in your eyes is to behold a whole galaxy. It is as simple as that.” Ben purrs softly against your lips, and you shudder at the ease with which he can reveal to you such intimate and vulnerable desires to you. 
“Maker, you really do have a way with words, don’t you?” You giggle when he kisses the corner of your lips before nudging your nose again with a breathtaking smile that reaches his ears. 
“Only for you, sweet one. Only for you.” 
Ben sighs heavily as he feels you melt completely beneath him after a while, and as you slowly give yourself to sleep, he reluctantly pulls away to look upon your peaceful features again. So much has happened during the past few months, the past few years if he was being truly honest, but the longer he gazes at you, the calmer his heart feels because never in his entire life did he think he could be capable of feeling such emotions again. 
Never in his entire life did he think he could find his heart again…
And in such a place where it wasn’t meant to be. 
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Tagging those who showed interest: @metalarmsandmanbuns​ @purple-mango @a-bang-for-your-bucky​ @zombiesnips-blog​
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The Bond Between Us MASTERLIST
MAIN MASTERLIST
STAR WARS MASTERLIST
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Qui-Gon Jinn discovers you and your twin brother, Anakin Skywalker, on Tatooine after being stranded there during a mission. He senses excellent power in the Force in you and Anakin. The Jedi Order takes a chance on the two of you, not without strict guidelines. A bond is slowly made between two Jedi, pushing the boundaries of the ancient Order.
This is the story of power, war, friendship, order, and love.
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MAIN STORY CHAPTERS
THE PHANTOM MENACE
ONE / TWO / THREE / FOUR
ATTACK OF THE CLONES
FIVE / SIX / SEVEN / EIGHT / NINE / TEN / ELEVEN 
THE CLONE WARS
TWELVE / THIRTEEN / FOURTEEN / FIFTEEN / SIXTEEN / SEVENTEEN / EIGHTEEN / NINETEEN / TWENTY / TWENTY-ONE / TWENTY-TWO / TWENTY THREE / TWENTY-FOUR / TWENTY FIVE / TWENTY-SIX / TWENTY SEVEN / TWENTY-EIGHT / TWENTY-NINE / THIRTY / THIRTY-ONE / THIRTY-TWO / THIRTY-THREE / THIRTY-FOUR / THIRTY-FIVE / THIRTY-SIX / THIRTY-SEVEN / THIRTY-EIGHT
REVENGE OF THE SITH
THIRTY-NINE / FORTY / FORTY-ONE / FORTY-TWO / FORTY-THREE / FORTY-FOUR 
OBI-WAN KENOBI
FORTY-FIVE / FORTY-SIX / FORTY-SEVEN / FORTY-EIGHT / FORTY-NINE  / FIFTY / FIFTY-ONE / FIFTY-TWO / FIFTY-THREE / FIFTY-FOUR / FIFTY-FIVE 
REBELS
FIFTY-SIX 
A NEW HOPE
FIFTY-SEVEN / FIFTY-EIGHT / FIFTY-NINE / SIXTY / SIXTY-ONE / SIXTY-TWO / SIXTY-THREE / SIXTY-FOUR 
THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK
SIXTY-FIVE / SIXTY-SIX / SIXTY-SEVEN / SIXTY-EIGHT / SIXTY-NINE / SEVENTY 
RETURN OF THE JEDI
SEVENTY-ONE / SEVENTY-TWO / SEVENTY-THREE / SEVENTY-FOUR / SEVENTY-FIVE / SEVENTY-SIX / SEVENTY-SEVEN
THE MANDALORIAN / THE BOOK OF BOBA FETT
SEVENTY-EIGHT / SEVENTY-NINE / EIGHTY
THE FORCE AWAKENS
EIGHTY-ONE / EIGHTY-TWO / EIGHTY-THREE
THE LAST JEDI
EIGHTY-FOUR / EIGHTY-FIVE / EIGHTY-SIX
THE RISE OF SKYWALKER
EIGHTY-SEVEN / EIGHTY-EIGHT / EIGHTY-NINE
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ASKS / QUESTIONS / ONE SHOTS
AGES
PLAYLIST
REUNITED 
HIS TURN
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I no longer do tag lists, just follow and interact and be patient.
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cinnamon-galaxies · 4 months
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A Padawan's Confession
Pairings: Obi-Wan x padawan!reader
Warnings/Tags: drama, hurt/comfort, age difference, no (further) romantic interaction
Summary: G/N reader! You and your master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, rest by a campfire overnight during a mission. As your thoughts get heavier each second he senses your trouble and you take the opportunity to announce your decision to leave the order. Because feelings far beyond the boundaries of the Jedi slowly turn you insane as your heart craves for the man who's both the furthest and closest to you....
Words: 1.7k
A/n: This short story is inspired by a one shot I've written many years ago. I hope you like it! Also English isn't my first language so there might be spelling and grammar mistakes in this story!
~~~~~~
The quiet camp fire marked tonight's resting place from your stressful mission. You and your master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, sat on broken trunks, your cloaks pulled around you tightly to keep the warmth of the fire around your bodies. But as quiet as the night seemed to be, your mind was the exact opposite. Hundreds of thoughts raced around and kept your pulse high and your tension at a maximum. It was at the time you eventually should be honest with your master and talk to him about your decision to leave the order. Your thoughts have been resolving around this topic for months now and with each day passing you felt more certain to pervade your decision, as the pressure and pain got worse and became almost unbearable.
While you tried to think about the best way to tell him, your master sensed your inner tension. "You seem troubled, Y/N," he observed. "Is there something you'd like to talk about?"
You hesitated for a brief moment before you nodded. "Yes. Kinda..."
"What's wrong?" Obi-Wan asked, his neutral facial expression slowly turning into concern. He didn't want you to feel bad. He in fact despised it when you were sad or troubled and that is why he always wanted to be there for you, support you and help you through bad times. Of course it was also his responsibility to care for you but through all the year's you've been his Padawan you grew to be so much more for him, something similar to the daughter he never had. And that is a fact he never actually said out loud but it was a silent truth between the both of you.
You let out a deep sigh but it didn't release any of the heavy pressure pushing down on you. To leave the order was a life-changing decision that couldn't be undone. It could be a big mistake—or the best decision you'll ever make. But after all it hurt a lot to even think about saying goodbye.
"I-" you started but a heavy lump in your throat interrupted you. "I can no longer do this." You automatically lowered your voice and turned your face towards the darkness behind the trees to avoid his glance. You felt tears form in your eyes, so you closed your lids and held your breath. There was almost nothing else as awkward as crying in front of your master, a Jedi in accordance with the code. 'There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force,' you quoted in your mind realizing you've broken at least half of the five key principles. What a shame it would be if you'd shown your master how much you were guided by your emotions. "I'm sorry master," you said.
Obi-Wan frowned in both confusion and concern. "You're sorry? For what? What is it you can no longer do?" he asked with a calm voice. He was trying hard to hide how much he worried about you right now.
"All of this," you replied. "I made the decision to leave the Jedi order." Out of a sudden, relief flooded your veins as the heavy weight of those words left your soul with every syllable spoken.
Obi-Wan paused. He didn't even realize he forgot to beathe while the shock of your announcement washed over him. "Y/N," he finally managed to press through his lips. "Leaving the Jedi order is a significant decision."
"I know," you replied.
"May I ask why you've come to this conclusion?"
You hesitated. It made you uncomfortable to talk about the reasons. Then again, informing him was the least you could do. You still didn't manage to make eye contact. "I've broken the Jedi principles. Or, to put it better, it gets harder for me to follow them everyday. I can't no longer distract myself from my emotions and act as if I don't feel any affection. My mind starts to think in ways the doctrines of the Jedi dismiss and I'm afraid I'll and up in demise." The tears lingering in your eyes got more but you still managed to hold them back. It was obvious that your master could feel the bunch of emotions cracking through all of these walls you've built up since the beginning of your training. But there was one you could still hide. One particular emotion you hid so well from the outside and the force sensing abilities of the Jedi that you were sure, no matter how many your master could sense, that one particular emotion wasn't one of them.
"Affection, you say?" Your master responded and you nodded. "May I ask what kind of affection troubles you?"
You wish you could say that it was only a deep friendship that guided you to paths different from the force. But it was more. Something way deeper. "It's love," you said.
"Love," Obi-Wan repeated. As he turned his gaze towards the camp fire, you dared to look at him. He was obviously lost in thought. Maybe he was searching for the best response or he was thinking about you, wondering who the person might be that made you struggle this hard you considered to leave the order. "The Force guides us all on unique journeys," he then said. "And there are many that aren't consistent with the Jedi ways. You're correct, affection—especially love—is a bond that leads you on a path in-between dark and light. What could be a strength might at the same time become a weakness. Where love blooms, passion lingers. And where passion lingers, darkness awaits."
You listened to his words. It was the same doctrine you had internalized for years but the way your master chose his words made it sound different this time. You suspected that he hasn't finished his monologue yet so you stood quite, examining his side profile while his attention seemed to be caught be the dancing flames. He in fact hasn't finished yet. "As you should know I won't judge you. It's not your decision if you fall for someone. It's your decision how you deal with it. And if your feelings affect you in a way they could harm you and the Jedi order this might no longer be your journey. So don't be ashamed."
You took a deep breath and turned your gaze to the fire as well. "Thank you," you said and a tear finally released itself from your strong hold and rolled down your cheek.
"For what?"
"For your understanding."
Your master chuckled. "Let me tell you a secret. When I was your age I've been in love as well. Twice. So I know your struggle. But it was my decision to lock those feelings up and stay in the order."
You blinked in shock. Your master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, has once been in love? Well, that was something you would've never expected. But at least he's managed to keep his mind straight. And with that thought you replied: "I don't think I'll ever be able to do the same. It's so hard and the person I'm into is almost always around me." You hesitated, afraid you've said too much. But in the end, it wouldn't matter what you've said the day you announced your decision.
Obi-Wan turned his head to look at you. His blue eyes shimmered in the light of the dancing fire that made his gaze seem even warmer than it already was. "Is it your friend Anakin?" he asked in curiosity and you took a deep breath before you shook your head.
"No. It's not Anakin." And with the words spoken out loud you've finally let the last of all the walls you've built to hide your emotions break into pieces. A warm wave of the force rushed over both of you and the campfire, making it dance uncontrollably fast for a brief moment. You noticed Obi-Wan shift but couldn't certainly say what exactly changed as you allowed him to find out about your feelings for him. Your cheeks immediately turned red and you felt shame rush over you. The emotion behind that wall was the exact reason you wanted to leave. Love for your master, the one who would—and should—never return your feelings. The one who was supposed to care for you, to train you, and who played great value on the Jedi principles. He wasn't even just your master, he was a Jedi master and a member of the high council as well.
Obi-Wan didn't turn his gaze away, his blue eyes now filled with a harsh realization.
Another tear ran down your cheek but you tried your hardest to not look away and keep the eye contact. In the perfect world of your fantasy Obi-Wan would've leaned towards you and captured your lips in a passionate kiss. But this wasn't your fantasy, it was reality. And in reality all he did was sit right in front of you, obviously shocked and speechless—but at the same time comprehending many details of your (probably strange) behaviour in the past. Your stares, the way you laughed particularly often in his presence, you distancing yourself from him after you made a mistake... The ways you've tried to impress him when fighting in battles....
"I'm sorry, Y/N", Obi-Wan finally said with a low voice. He was obviously still speechless.
"I know," you replied with a cracking voice. You still watched his face, his expression, the small wrinkles on his skin that were a subtile proof for the big age difference between you and him. You studied his blue eyes that still kept all of the warmth he's met you with during this conversation. His beard, the neatly cut hair... You tried m to memorize his face as best as you could because soon you'd never see it again....
You shook your head. "No. Please don't say that as if it was your fault. It's mine. And I'm gonna leave as soon as our mission's over."
"It is your decision how you want to spend your life. But I can't offer you what you want."
"I know," you replied with a cracking voice. You still watched his face, his expression, the small wrinkles on his skin that were a subtile proof for the big age difference between you and him. You studied his blue eyes that still kept all of the warmth he's met you with during this conversation. His beard, the neatly cut hair... Everything inside of you screamed for his affection, his love, his heart. You wanted him to touch you, pull you to his chest and kiss you gently. Obi-Wan was everything you've ever wanted and the one thing you'll never get. So you tried to memorize his face as best as you could because soon you'll never see it again....
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demonwoman · 7 months
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broken attachments chapter 3
chapter 1 | chapter 2
summary: you begin your padawan relationship with anakin on alderaan. and your first "lesson" does not good the way you expected, at all.
characters mentioned: r2d2, yoda, obi-wan
wc: 4.1k (!!!) // pairing: anakin x reader, obi wan x reader
cw: slow burn. possessiveness. anakin is extremely cocky and jealous, bordering on mean. use of pet name (stinger) which will continue throughout the story. improper master/apprentice dynamics. a kiss!!!! (but not actually). reader and anakin fight with lightsabers, it goes rather awry. slight fluff at the end
a/n: i'm still on hiatus but wanted to post this as a way of saying "thanks for 888 followers!" 8 is a good number to me hehe. also i told you we would be getting to the meat and potatoes. this is some good shit to me, i love tension and resolution with anakin
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“C’mon little one, throw your stuff up here.” Your new Master opened the hatch from his shuttle. The scuffed yellow paint was in desperate need of a fresh coat, but with the way Anakin treated his ships, it would no doubt be damaged by the time he landed. The two of you were sent to Alderaan under the guise of having a more peaceful environment to train. But with the way he was lamenting about not being able to see Padmé, you began to see why the Council really ordered you two off-world. 
“Do not call me little one.” You muttered under your breath, tossing your luggage straight at his head. It missed him by a hair, but he chuckled at your frustration.
“Well you are little to me now.” Anakin shrugged, referencing his newfound height over you. “And you’re my Padawan, so you have to listen to everything I say.” He grinned, motioning at you to come join the pilot’s seat next to  him. 
“Yeah - if I do that, I’ll be dead in a month.” You rolled your eyes, using the Force to jump and land on the balls of your feet in the seat. You slid in and buckled yourself in, and saw a familiar blue astromech cross your peripheral. The happy chirps confirmed itself - R2D2 was just behind you, making sure everything was running correctly. 
“Aw, come on ___. Have some confidence in me.” The young Skywalker sighed. “I know I’ve never done this before, but I feel like I could teach you some pretty sweet skills. Maybe get you to beat Obi-Wan for once.” 
“Right now, I have more confidence in Artoo to get us to Alderaan than I do in you.” You replied flatly, eyes scanning over the central flight console. 
Anakin tsk-tsked, his pointer finger wagging disapprovingly at you. “Backtalk already? I may have to punish you for your insolence.” But the shit-eating grin on his face was enough to tell you he wasn’t being serious at all. 
“Punish me all you want, Ani. Just stop calling me little one. At least come up with a better nickname.” The slight innuendo was not lost on you, but it did make Anakin’s eyebrow raise a little. 
“Oh, I’ll take that as a challenge. How about sourpuss?”
“No.” 
“Kiddo?” 
“Stop it.” 
Anakin rattled off a list of increasingly stupid names, as he was preparing the ship for liftoff. One part of you wanted him to shut up and just fly in silence, but the other part of you was grateful that he was being himself and talking for the both of you. 
It was only a few minutes after reaching hyperspace when Anakin had his “Aha!” moment. 
“Stinger!” He made a little finger gun, and pointed it at you. “For all the times you shot me and Obi-Wan with that damn practice blaster he always made you use. You were really good with that thing.” He murmured, as the memories of being stunned by that blaster began to resurface, his face twisting slightly. 
Your face was at this point scrunched in a permanent frown, but it was the only pet name of which you did not verbally protest. 
“Stinger it is.” 
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After landing the shuttle on its designated landing pad, the two of you, with Artoo in tow, were escorted by Alderaan officials to receive your housing assignment. Jedi were never given lavish quarters like the politicians or ambassadors that visited Alderaan, but their accommodations were still more comfortable than the rooms in the Central Temple. Of course - separate rooms, on opposite ends of the hall. Not next door neighbors, but it would have to do. After the Alderaan official unlocked the door and handed you the key card for entry, you set your single bag down, and unclicked your lightsaber from your belt loop. 
The kyber crystal you had chosen from your trials hummed, from deep within the saber hilt. You could feel its resonating frequency, too quiet for any civilian to hear - but you were attuned to it. Perhaps one of the more creative endeavors of the Jedi was designing and building their own lightsabers, and yours was no different. You had labored over it for many hours, to the point it almost concerned your colleagues that you were taking too much time - but when you presented your finished product, everyone agreed it was worth the extra time. 
The hilt was polished platinum, with a sleek diagonal cut at the top that resembled the blades of your homeworld. Your saber had not seen many real battles, so it lacked that experience and scuff you so desperately needed. Despite most Jedi holding their single saber with two hands, your hilt was light enough to be held comfortably just with your dominant hand, so you trained almost exclusively with that grip. The top half of your hilt was embellished with etchings that almost resembled tattoos on human skin, all curling around an inscription of your family surname in very small lettering. You had forsaken your familial attachment long ago, so your name was your only “Jedi approved” attachment to what you had left behind. 
The bottom half of the hilt was not as thick as the top, and it was wrapped in cloth, to give you more friction so you were less prone to it slipping from your hand. The button to ignite the saber was an unraised, rectangle shape, almost invisible to the naked eye, but it rested comfortably where your thumb sat. At the end of the hilt lay a secret button, its true intentions you kept even from Master Fisto. 
You turned on the saber, watching the blade come to life. The indigo color was uncommon for a kyber crystal, as your fellow Jedi often carried a lighter hue, but you felt the darker shade suited your personality more. It hummed as you waved it around carefully, eyeing the sharp tip of your saber with longing. You felt the Force flow through you as you wielded your blade, and with it - peace. 
But that peace was soon interrupted, when you felt a familiar, annoying presence behind the door. 
As soon as Anakin knocked, the door automatically slid open, and you turned around, eyeing him cautiously but turning the blade off. A soft smile crossed his features. 
“No, show me. I want to see it.” 
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” You smirked, waving the hilt in your grasp. He rolled his eyes but chuckled at the silly joke. 
The two of you exchanged blades simultaneously, tossing in each other’s direction and catching each other’s respective hilt with no issue. The heaviness of Anakin’s blade was not a surprise to you, but you found the circular button and watched the sky blue hilt erupt to life. Anakin had a little more trouble finding your hilt’s button, but once he felt for it and a soft click! noise popped, his breath stopped in his throat when the indigo of your blade glowed against him. It’s beautiful, he thought. 
He waved it around experimentally, as did you. You needed a two hand grip to properly balance the hilt of his saber, whereas he almost felt clumsy holding yours due to the weight difference. 
“It’s lighter than I expected.” Anakin observed passively. 
“That’s because I hold it with one hand.” You replied, turning Anakin’s saber off. He continued to wave yours around, striking a few starting poses. 
“You know, that isn’t super practical in battle. You can cut through standard droids no problem with this, but anything that is armored is going to give you a tough time.” He clicked the main button off, and peered over the rest of your hilt. 
“That’s because you haven’t seen what I can do with it.” You tossed Anakin’s weapon back to him, and he returned yours back. “I’ll show you when we spar.” 
“I mean, I’ll beat you anyway, but I’m interested in seeing what this “secret” is.” His eyebrow quirked up. 
Your heart stopped for a moment. “How’d you know about that?” Did he see the button at the bottom of your blade? There’s no way he could’ve figured that out, right? 
“I can sense your hidden agenda with this blade, ___. You don’t hide very much within the Force. We’ll have to work on that, too.” 
“Fine.” You grumbled. “When are we training, anyway? You haven’t given me any kind of schedule.” 
“How about…right now?” Anakin tapped his index finger like he had put forethought into this, but you knew he was just deciding his teaching hours on a whim. “I’ll meet you in the training grounds at 18:00.” Glancing at the clock beside your bed, that gave you approximately 20 minutes to prepare for whatever tomfoolery your new Master was crafting. 
A pit of dread began to grow in your stomach, thinking of all the twisted possibilities of what training with Anakin would be like. But you swallowed your anxiety, and agreed to meet him in twenty. You asked for this, after all.
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Alderaan’s environment, like its politics, was soft and easy to mold. The dirt and clay beneath your boots gave in with little resistance, but did not sink into your shoes. Anakin had sent you the coordinates to a nearby forest, just on the outstretches of Aldera, far enough from civilization where the two of you could train free of distractions. Shuffling and making boot prints in the ground, you were waiting for your Master, who was five minutes late to the training session he scheduled. 
Typical. 
You pondered whether to call him on your comms, or to just wait it out. Even with the strict Jedi training imposed on him, the boy could never keep a schedule if someone’s life was on the line. It seemed pointless to idle around however, so you stood perfectly still and closed your eyes, convening with the Force, almost praying to it for extra patience. A thin, cooling sensation enveloped your eyes in particular as you tried to meditate and breathe, hoping to exhale all your frustrations away. 
It was at that moment, when the forest quieted itself unnaturally, that you detected a presence. 
Unlike the creatures roaming around, or the faraway steps of city dwellers escaping into its lush greenery, this presence was almost invisible. But its tension, its signature crassness was unmistakable. It was Anakin. 
He had been watching you the whole time from afar. 
Swallowing your prey instinct away, you ignited your saber and held it up slowly, and kept a hand on your belt, eyes still closed. Circling around, you paced around the forest floor, your feet stepping as quietly as you could manage. 
The stiffness of a forced inhale emerged, and your eyes opened, your intuition leaping before you could let your thoughts slow you down. You jumped into a nearby tree branch, and from your holster, grabbed a blaster and aimed tightly at the source of the noise. One, two, three shots were fired, before you heard a quiet “ouch!” and saw a gloved hand brush off the singed robe. 
You jumped down right to where you had shot right as his lanky body came into full view, landing low on the balls of your feet. Your lightsaber was on full display, its muted glow illuminating the features of your face as your Padawan braid whipped around and hit you lightly on the cheek. Anakin was imposing, with your bent over posture you didn’t even reach up to his chest as he chuckled, and held his hand out. 
The blaster in your non-dominant hand budged, and you gasped as he used the Force to take it away from you. He caught it, and tucked it away on his belt, before motioning for you to stand up and put your weapon away. 
“That was…not bad, for the first lesson.” Anakin’s eyes bore into you, and you avoided a direct gaze with him. A thin wave of shame rushed over your body when you felt disappointment behind his tone. 
The first lesson? 
He continued. “I wanted to see how long it would take you to notice my presence, when concealed by the Force. And for your first time, you were a bit slow, but not shabby.” Anakin paced in circles around you, eyeing you like an apex predator casually observing its prey. 
“What I don’t like however, is your dependence on a blaster. You know what Master Kenobi says about them, it’s an uncivilized weapon.” His hand brushed over your blaster on his belt loop, making you frown. “We need to wean you off of it. The relationship between Jedi and their lightsabers is exclusive to us, and we need to cultivate that with you.” He unholstered his own saber, turned it on and pointed it directly at you. Your blades hummed together, you two could feel the effects of the Force rolling off of it. But you could feel Anakin’s raw strength from the Force radiating off his arms and into the blade - it was almost overwhelming. 
You opened your mouth to formulate an excuse, but after Anakin’s eyebrow raised, you shut yourself up real quick. It wasn’t worth the petty squabbling - he was the Master, and you were the apprentice. 
“I apologize for not meeting your standards, Master Skywalker.” You stood up, and disengaged your weapon. “What can I do to improve?” Your voice became flat, and almost mechanical as you mentally began taking notes on how to better yourself. 
“No need to apologize, Stinger.” The use of your newly-acquired pet name made your ears perk up. “Let’s do one quick sparring session. Just so I can see what I’m working with.” Anakin bent his knees, before leaping away and standing in the middle of the forest floor, inviting you to do the same. 
You joined him as he resumed his circling pace. He ignited his saber, signaling to you to do the same. As soon as you prepared yourself for his attacks, he lunged at you and the fighting began. 
Even knowing how powerful Anakin was, was not enough to prepare you for his physicality and prowess. He spun his lightsaber in one hand before attacking, nearly knocking your blade out of your hand and causing you to grip it tighter. He was relentless in his offense, attacking and slashing at you with little mercy, as you were forced to resort to defensive strikes to try and balance things out. You couldn’t get a word in, you were too focused on maintaining a steady stance. 
“What’s the matter, apprentice?” He shouted, aggression laced in his voice. “Are you going to keep defending yourself, when are you going to take offense and hit me?” Your blades kept clashing, the sounds echoing throughout the forest floor as he kept you in that tight circle, alternating between pacing and running. You did not respond, but when you sensed you were reaching the end of your usability with your one-handed grip, you jumped back and turned your saber off. 
The reaction surprised Anakin, which was enough time for you to pull out your “secret.” You gripped your hilt with both hands, and pressed the main button to reignite the blade, and in a fraction of a second, your non-dominant hand pressed the button on the bottom of the hilt. The hilt itself extended a few centimeters to accommodate for your two-handed grip, and Anakin’s eyes lit up when he saw the height of your blade extend as well. The length of your blade was now several centimeters taller than his as you charged at him with your ‘new’ weapon. 
Anakin nearly fell back as you put the full force of your power in one elegant swipe. His stance weakened, which was what you were hoping for as you lunged and aimed for his shoes. He was forced to jump up as you swiped and switched back to a one-hand grip. You used the Force to push him back a bit, further causing physical imbalance as you spun your lightsaber in a similar fashion to his. When Anakin was knocked back by the push, he fell to the ground up against a tree. The moment he looked at you, seeing your robes flowing around you, wind picking up and swirling around your being was when he realized –
You are a legitimate threat. 
All those years of watching you get defeated by Obi-Wan time and time again. All those times of you begrudgingly being held back by his former Master’s teachings, not because Obi-Wan didn’t care, but because the Council made him hold back on giving you what you deserved. All those years of being told that he was special, and more powerful than everyone else (save for perhaps Yoda) - it all came to a crushing conclusion that even at the end of the day, if he did have the skills and the strength to crush you, you managed to sneak in something that threw him off guard. 
Anakin only smiled, which disarmed you as you were in predator mode. He just stood up calmly, and reengaged his weapon, resuming his familiar patterns of slashing and striking. 
Hearing the huffing and puffing of your breathing was a sign to him to quit the session. Anakin shuffled away from your elongated blade, and turned off his saber, his hands going up to show surrender. You sighed, and wiped the sweat from your brow as the adrenaline ebbed away, leaving you with tired limbs. Fighting with such a long blade tired you out immensely, which he immediately took a mental note of. Your saber was shut off, and your knees knocked together as you almost fell backwards. 
You didn’t need Anakin to catch you, as you avoided tripping and falling, but he was there anyway. You felt the leather of his glove touch your upper back, keeping you firm on your feet. 
“Good job. Let��s go home.” He whispered, his eyes sparkling with pride. You groaned, taking heavy breaths as the weight of your exhaustion fully set in. 
“Did you walk here?” Anakin asked. “I used a speeder. Let’s go back, you can ride with me.” 
You nodded, adjusting your robes and feeling around for your missing blaster. When you recalled it being in Anakin’s possession, you pointed at it, asking for it back with your eyes. Anakin looked confused, before realizing what you were nonverbally asking for. 
“Oh, you’re not getting this back. In fact –” he paused, and took the blaster and aimed it right at your face. The brazen motion shocked you, eyes widening in panic. “Let me see that braid. Pull it out.” 
You were unsure of what his intentions were, but you obeyed. Untucking it behind your ear, you moved all of your hair to one side, leaving the braid by itself. With a click of the trigger, and a sharp zing! sound - you almost cried out, but realized he didn’t hit you. But then the smell hit afterwards, the singe of burned hair. You looked down and gasped, seeing the seashell Master Fisto gifted you, on the ground. 
There lay the end of your braid, burned off by your blaster that your Master was wielding. Your eyes welled with tears, as you finally spoke for the first time since the beginning of the sparring session. 
“How could you do that?” You whispered at him, voice shaking in anger. You pawed at your now freed hair strands, feeling how he had severed a few centimeters off. 
“He’s not your Master anymore. I am.” Anakin concluded, before spinning the gun absentmindedly and placing it back in his belt. The nonchalant nature of Anakin’s voice almost triggered you to shout at him. You picked up the pale white seashell from the ground, and held it close to you. 
“Listen to me, ___. You’re my apprentice now, and you are to obey my commands as your teacher. I want you to forgo your attachment to Master Fisto. He let you go. And you chose to follow me. So, come.” He patted the seat of his speeder. “Sit behind me. It’s been a long day.”
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You looked at the Alderaan sun setting, turning the sky into rich shades of lavender and orange. You avoided looking at him, but climbed in the seat behind him, holding his back close to your chest. He thumbed your cheek, to check for any signs of blaster fire (it was a clean hit, and you both knew it) before he started up the speeder and got you both back to your temporary residence. 
On the way back, the exhaustion and sadness of your loss fully took over your body, and by the time he parked and turned off the speeder, you had fallen asleep. When Anakin got off, your body slumped forward, but again, he caught you. He chuckled, looking at your sleeping form, eyes peacefully closed and breathing even. 
Completely unconscious to the world around you, he quietly carried you in his arms to your room, without attracting the attention of any guards. Opening the door with the key card he found in your pocket, Anakin placed you delicately on your bed, and removed your outer robes and unclicked your saber from your belt. He inspected the bottom of it, finding that hidden button and circling his thumb around it carefully. 
The serenity of your features warmed Anakin’s heart. He knew you were a good fighter, wise beyond your years and full of potential. It pleased him greatly to be able to work with you in such a close regard, as he gazed over your tightly curled fist, containing the small seashell from Master Fisto. 
A tinge of regret washed over him, as the weight of his actions settled in. He knew your five years with Master Fisto were important to you, and knowing that he only had a year with you before his ‘real’ Padawan was to be assigned to him made him almost…jealous. He wanted to be your real Master, and he wanted to train you to be the best Jedi Knight he could imagine. Not better than me, of course. But better than everyone else, that’s for sure. 
I wish I had more time with you, he thought to himself. But he brushed your stray locks of hair away from your face, and saw your Padawan braid, rapidly unfurling from its tightly woven style. Anakin pulled off his gloves, and repaired the damage he caused, in the only way he knew how to. 
When you came to only a few hours later, the sky was inked in the midnight hours. Most of Alderaan had gone to sleep, and you were disoriented and confused as to how you even got back in your room. But your stomach grumbled, and you turned to find a small dinner on a serving cart, covered by a metal cloche. Your fist untightened, as you saw Master Fisto’s seashell in your hand. A tear slipped out this time, traveling slowly down your face before stopping at your chin. 
You wiped the tear away, and ate your room temperature food in silence, staring listlessly at the wall. It was very late, and you figured Anakin was asleep, so it wasn’t worth bothering him at this hour. But when you got up to put your food away on the serving cart, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of the cloche. 
Coughing and almost choking on air, you ran to the nearest full mirror to look at yourself. Your braid was completely redone in a style you did not recognize. It was not messy nor clumsy, it was in fact quite intricate and beautiful. And at the end of the braid, lay a thin silver chain wrapped tightly around, almost choking the hair in place. The end of the chain dangled with the ends of your hair, blending in nicely. 
“Oh, Anakin,” you breathed, touching your newly braided hair. The sensation of it woke Anakin up from his slumber - he could sense your realization echo through the hall of your room. He bolted up and almost raced to your room, but stopped midway through the hall and sighed, before shuffling awkwardly back to his room. 
The possessiveness of Anakin’s decision to chop your braid off had scared you, but seeing what he had done to ‘apologize’ for his behavior softened you to your soul. To no one in particular, you pressed a gentle kiss to the bundle of filigree decorating your braid. 
Anakin’s heart began to race as he felt your emotions swell in the Force, before quieting down for the night. And he did not get a wink of sleep that night. 
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yourneighborhoodporg · 5 months
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The Guardian
Chapter 1: The Accident
Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader
Warnings: trials of war (general suffering), sleep deprivation, crash landing, light injury, abandonment (if you squint), angst, fluff, humor, trio banter
Summary: As the Clone Wars officially commence, General Kenobi begins to suffer the consequences of burning the candle at both ends with back-to-back responsibilities constantly at his heels. When the council makes a concerning announcement in the middle of a mission, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ashoka are forced to drop everything and travel to Coruscant. Fate, however, has other plans— you.
Song Inspo: Sign of the Times — Harry Styles
Words: 5.7k
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Only the dead have seen the end of war — Plato
Obi-Wan Kenobi was…displeased.
The General’s arms remained loosely folded across his chest as he leaned back into the passenger’s seat. The robes being used as makeshift blankets shifted in response. He tried to calm himself with a deep breath as the next round of turbulence threatened to rip the shuttle apart, but Obi-Wan couldn’t ignore the slight prickle of his auburn beard when the skin underneath grew more sensitive from anxiety. A sigh escaped his lips. He rested his eyelids, head falling back. The aching Jedi thought back to only a few days before. Obi-Wan and Master Yoda finally recovered Anakin and the new Togruta Padawan on Tatooine after the two successfully returned Jabba’s son Rotta. The Separatist kidnapping plot was a failure.
He remembers finding it odd back on Tatooine, as he waited on the transport for Yoda’s arrival, that the Grand Master found it necessary to personally accompany him and a number of clones on the assault transport tasked with retrieving the duo. His head heavy with sleep was easily distracted by the implications of Yoda’s presence. So much so, that the native Coruscanti failed to notice a certain, nearly 900-year-old Jedi’s arrival. As a wise Master Jedi often does, Yoda sensed Kenobi’s confusion the moment his feet met with the transport floor. He eyed the younger Jedi for a moment until their gazes suddenly met. Kenobi respectfully clasped his hands behind him, nodding at his arrival.
"A new mission, you and Anakin have.” Master Yoda signaled the transport pilot to take off with the motion of a hand as he turned to scan the hilly sand dunes. Obi-Wan matched his stare, wondering if there was something out there; some wisdom the older Jedi gleaned from the three moons in the distance.
Kenobi raised each eyebrow in intrigue as he glanced down at the shorter man, ignoring how the sand around the transport billowed from its ascent. “Oh? What does this mission entail?”
Yoda’s eyes remained locked on the landscape, back facing him. “Explain, I will. Collect Anakin and his young padawan first, we must”
The trip from The Negotiator to Jabba’s palace was quiet, but short. Kenobi was interested in seeing if Anakin and his new Padawan resolved differences so clearly displayed on Christophsis. Despite Anakin’s well-known stubbornness, he had hope. From what little he saw, Ahsoka seemed to have that bright, fiery personality needed to challenge Anakin’s own. His musings were soon answered as the transport neared the palace. Even from hundreds of feet away, it was clear to Obi-Wan that Anakin and Ahsoka seemed to have reconciled, with bright smiles that stood in stark contrast against Tatooine’s muted, emotionless environment. He was pleasantly surprised to sense the first drops of respect between the two, like fresh rainwater after millennia of drought.
As the transport began its landing protocols, Obi-Wan closed his eyes to rest his mind. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. The bearded Jedi felt an air of… perception in the force. Likely Yoda’s wise prediction of this outcome from the start. Master Yoda always had a profound understanding of Jedi connections— which Master-Padawan assignments would work best, which younglins were friends and foes, and, most recently, which Jedis could collaborate in addressing the intricacies of politics, and the horrors of war.
The transport displaced the swirling sand below as they made their final descent. Obi-Wan glanced at Master Yoda when the transport touched down and settled. As if on cue, Master Yoda stepped onto the hot sand and moved toward the duo. While Obi-Wan followed and neared Anakin and Ahsoka, the strength of their connection became increasingly perceptible, challenging Kenobi’s composure to keep a neutral face. He was pleased.
Yoda glanced between Master and Padawan. “A new mission, you are needed on. Rejoin your battalions and travel to Naboo, you must”
As the four boarded the transport and headed back to Kenobi’s ship, Master Yoda informed the trio that the 212th and 501st had been called to Naboo to collect vital medical supplies for a planetoid in the Outer Rim, known as Polis Massa. Their main medical facility, aiding in the treatment and sanctuary of war victims, was experiencing a concerning depletion of medications, bacta patches, and other stock. The sudden arrival of a large planetary entourage of refugees has disrupted their timeline of available reserves from months to merely a week. After a general representative shared these concerns with the Senate days prior, Naboo Senator Padme Amidala graciously offered a large donation of medical supplies to keep the facility functional and the refugees safe. The Jedi were tasked with the transport, and due to the scale of the cargo, two warships were needed.
Obi-Wan’s mind jumped to his recent experience on the young senator’s vibrantly lush and florid planet. He remembers how The Negotiator and The Resolute’s arrival on Naboo was met with noticeable excitement. It began while discussing offloading logistics with the lead Commander.
“General,” Commander Cody glanced back down at the datapad in hand. “This manifest won’t make that timeline possible. Even if we assign every available trooper, it will take at least a week to fully load the cargo. Most of the crates with medication or medical devices are too delicate for the average loadlifter. And many of our troops aren’t trained in handling this type of equipment.”
General Kenobi sighed, gently stroking his chin in contemplation. At the time, the situation certainly posed an unfortunate fate for the refugees who were desperately waiting for these supplies. The issue was not new. The General, Commander, and other troop leaders had spent the entire journey from Tattoine to Naboo attempting to solve this very problem. Having had mere hours of sleep in the last few days, the General had difficulty allowing his mind to reach out to the force for any new ideas to aid in the formulation of a plan. The slight, sharp pounding in his right temple returned, an unfortunate, reoccurring experience that began when he boarded The Negotiator on Tatooine.
Suddenly, as if the Maker himself heard his doubts, Kenobi registered the click and persistent whirring of an opening cargo bay door. What piqued his interest and encouraged Kenobi to turn and assess the situation, however, was the sudden cacophony of loud commands, conversations, and footsteps behind him. Both General and Commander pivoted toward the scene, Cody lowering his datapad in distraction as Kenobi rested his hands on his hips in surprise. There were what looked like thousands of dockworkers as far as the eye could see, all in various states of loading The Negotiator with the medical supply crates. It was not a far-reach to assume that Anakin’s warship was receiving similar assistance. Kenobi shook his head, nearly kicking himself for ever doubting the efficiency of a mission involving Naboo.
“That’s some Senator, huh?” Commander Cody relayed as he gawked at the extra manpower, likely arranged by Padmé herself.
Kenobi smiled at the site. “Your eyes do not deceive you.” Cody called out to a few clones and motioned them to follow as he approached the crowd of dockworkers, orders at the ready.
With the generous assistance of Naboo’s finest citizens, a lot of commands from the confident Commander, and a weary General helping where he could, the starships were fully loaded and cleared for departure in less than a day, much to the bewilderment of Commander Cody. He made sure to remind the General as they made the final cargo checks that even though the pickup on Naboo was exceedingly fast, the offloading process would certainly take a week with Polis Massa’s lack of cargo staff. This, Kenobi could accept. At least with all the cargo already on the planet, the facility could coordinate with the Commander so to prioritize which supplies were offloaded first. The most desperate patients would have what they need in time.
The journey from Naboo to Polis Massa allowed General Kenobi to carry out a new set of duties. These were the first moments in the last few weeks in which he was finally free to file his reports. That meant many meetings, many questions, and writing every small detail down.
War between the Republic and the Separatists rarely left time for moments of respite, and the General was beginning to feel the effects deep in his bones. Occasionally, the head pounding returned. But what truly concerned Kenobi was how the lack of sleep began to play tricks on his mind. Formulating complex thoughts almost felt like drowning, and his mind seemed more easily swayed to the past. Kenobi remembers how this experience pressured him to finally concede— this last report would need to be followed by rest.
As the warships approached the asteroid field and the General completed the finishing touches to his final report, Kenobi received an urgent meeting request from Master Windu with the notation ‘sensitive.’ He remembers entering the empty war room, taking a deep breath from the exhaustion slowly creeping across his shoulders, and accepting the call on his Holopad. The blue, semi-transparent holograph of Mace Windu appeared before him. Only as his figure’s bright blue shine emanated a strong glow into the room did Kenobi realize he’d forgotten to turn on the lights.
“Master Kenobi, a pleasure, as always.”
“Master Windu.” Kenobi greeted.
He paused for a moment, just a moment, but it was long enough to indicate how long the last few days had truly been.
“I hope you’re getting some rest after the events of Christophsis and Tatooine.”
“As much as is possible, Master. The 212th and 501st have been called to deliver vital medical supplies from Naboo to Polis Massa.”
“I am aware. It may settle your mind to know that your time in the Outer Rim will be coming to a close shortly. All active-duty Jedi have been temporarily recalled to The Temple.”
Kenobi immediately grew concerned, especially when he noticed how the elder Master’s eyebrows creased ever so slightly. He frowned. “Master, may I ask what influenced this decision?”
“We will discuss it once you and Anakin arrive in the next few days. Please continue your mission to Polis Massa. The Council requests that once you arrive, you and Anakin arrange for transport back to Coruscant. Your battalions can unload the cargo themselves.”
Kenobi nodded. “Understood.” Once more, he paused. This time unsure if it was fatigue or apprehension. “Should I be concerned?”
This time, Windu embraced the silence, only offering the General a challenging stare.
“Please inform Anakin of this development. We will see you soon, Master.”
With that, Master Windu ended the communication, plunging Obi-Wan back into the darkness. As he remained in that dim, quiet war room, the General was left with a new, deep weight on his chest.
The General rubbed his face with a hand. Rest. He needed rest. Obi-Wan allowed his mind to briefly concentrate on his commitment— he would sleep as soon as the report was finished. It would only take a few more moments, he reassured himself. Then, the General would finally get some much-needed shuteye.
Kenobi relaxed. He was moments away from returning to the datapad when his mind wandered once more. He thought back to his conversation with Master Windu. This type of request from The Council and its level of urgency was unprecedented since the Separatist conflict began. It was difficult not to theorize about the severity of any event that would require the recall of thousands of Jedi. And it was moments like these where he would ask himself what Master Qui-Gon would do.
Obi-Wan tossed those thoughts to the back of his mind, shaking himself out of his stupor. These mild anxieties would disappear as soon as he rested his body, he knew that. And he was certainly looking forward to it. But first, Anakin.
He remembers how Anakin answered his Holopad request faster than expected. It wasn’t that Anakin was ever derelict in his duties, but he sometimes struggled with communication. Admittedly, it was usually because the man was too busy engaging in another risky, dangerous, or outright insane course of action.
However, this time, he answered. And no number of streaky lines in the holograph could hide the smirk spread across his face when his eyes met Obi-Wan’s.
“Miss me already, Master?” He crossed his arms while addressing his former Master. His longer hair shifted and head tilted slightly to the side.
Kenobi shook his head. “Hardly, The Council has called for all Jedi to return to Coruscant, including you and I.”
Anakin scrunched his nose as if a rancid plume of spoiled Giji stew entered his nostrils. “What for?”
“Unknown, but we are to arrange for transport back to Coruscant once we arrive on Polis Massa.”
Anakin nodded. “Got it.” Once more, he grinned. “Don’t worry, Master, I’ll find us a shuttle that will get us back in no time.”
Anakin ended the transmission, once more freeing the darkness to engulf Obi-Wan. His eyelids drooped. It took every strength not to immediately collapse to the floor and sleep. Just as he began to weigh the pros and cons of such an action, there was a sudden knock at the door.
“Yes, come in.”
Commander Cody entered, seeming somewhat out of breath. “General.” He breathed in once more, slowly and deeply. “Apologies,” he exhaled. Kenobi sensed threads of guilt from his person. “I’ve come to tell you that we’ve arrived at Polis Massa.”
The General smiled. “Thank you. I will be there in a moment.” As the Commander exited, Kenobi turned away from the door and back toward the black depths of the room. He sighed.
Another violent shake of the ship’s hull yanked Obi-Wan out of the past. Eyes shooting open only to rest in crinkled annoyance as he side-eyed Anakin in the pilot’s seat.
“Anakin, if I had known that you’d choose a shuttle barely cleared for travel, I would have made my own arrangements.”
Anakin huffed as he negotiated with the Emissary-class shuttle’s controls. “This wasn’t my first choice either, Master.”
Another loud rumble reverberated throughout the cabin. “I thought you were one of the better pilots in the Jedi order?” Ahsoka’s irritation poured from the backseat and flowed around the senses of the two senior Jedi. Obi-Wan stifled a laugh as Anakin’s frown deepened. His grip tightened around the throttle.
“There was no way for me to know that the only available ship capable of galactic travel on that planet was decommissioned hundreds of years ago.” He groaned. “They don’t even make parts for this piece of junk anymore!”
“You call this capable?”
“Snips…”
Despite losing any hope of sleep with the stress of traveling in a rusted space bucket, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but playfully add to Ahsoka’s antagonizations.
“She has a point, Anakin.” He motioned at the hull. “For someone who boasts about their engineering talents, I would have thought that this trip would be smoother.”
Obi-Wan and Ahsoka were sure that if they’d looked over at the frustrated pilot, they’d have seen steam blasting out of each red-tinted ear framing Anakin’s flushed face. Without any retort, he let out a defeated huff and refocused on navigating the trio out of the Outer Rim.
Ahsoka snickered as Kenobi used this cue to once more lean back and close his eyes. But despite how much his body ached for rest, his mind wandered to The Council once more.
Then, there was an explosion.
Obi-Wan was shocked into consciousness. He sat up quickly, knocking off some of the robe blankets. Alarms blared and red lights flashed. “What happened?!”
“Something hit the ship. Sublight engines are damaged.” Anakin began to frantically negotiate with the shuttle’s controls, looking increasingly concerned as he continued. “Whatever it was, I have no control over them anymore.”
“Can you fix them?!” Ahsoka yelled out, trying to be heard over the commotion.
“Working… on… it,” Anakin gritted. But despite each new attempt, the shuttle continued to hurtle in a dangerous direction.
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan warned. “You’re taking us directly toward the gravitational field of that planet.”
“I know!” Anakin yelled. He continued to fight with the controls. Eventually, he jumped up and stumbled over to a viewing window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the damage from the side.
He sighed, still examining the engines. “Well, whatever it was, it’s permanently changed the direction of the engines.” He glanced back at Obi-Wan and Ahsoka with a look of dismay. “I can’t fix them. We’re going to crash.”
“Do you always crash the ships you pilot?!” Ahsoka exclaimed as she began to brace herself for the planet’s gravitational pull.
Anakin ignored her. He returned to the controls in hopes of making their crash landing as soft as possible.
Obi-Wan crossed his arms and sighed as he felt the new root of a gray hair form. “Always a joy flying with you, Anakin.”
The deafening noise of the croaking hull reached an all-time high as they entered the atmosphere. The three passengers began to sweat, the heat of their reentry taking its toll. As they passed the planet’s cloud layer, the craft’s violent shaking achieved its peak.
If Anakin gripped the clutch with any more strength, it would’ve surely splintered. His teeth clenched and eyes remained alert as he mumbled his internal calculations out loud, a slight pause in between each one.
“700 meters, 600 meters, 500 meters…”
As they rapidly neared the planet’s icy surface, Anakin yanked the controls toward himself and down. What remained of the engines wined out a high-pitched drone as the shuttle struggled to level out with the planet’s surface.
“400 meters, 300 meters, 200 meters…”
Ashoka looked away, nails digging into her seat as Kenobi tried to blanket the three of them with a protective force barrier.
“100 meters… brace yourselves!”
The engines’ wine accelerated in intensity and volume as the craft’s belly made contact with a snowy bank.
The impact’s shock finally gave General Kenobi the longest rest he’s had in days.
The soft heat of the Tauntaun’s fur warmed your fingers with each stroke as you plunged your hands across her muscular chest. She huffed in contentment, hot steam shooting from her nostrils into the subfreezing air, and across your face. The sensation tickled your cheeks. A giggle bubbled up from your stomach as you rested a cheek against her warm frame. You briefly think back to when you were both young. You absolutely could not stand her smell when you first met her, but companionship has its way of encouraging two beings to attune to each other.
Moments like these in the desolate, icy graveyard of Hoth always helped you recharge after hours-long scavenging trips. You turned and took a few steps away from your steed to look out at the horizon, readjusting the sack of lichen that hung across your shoulder. You knew that you needed to start heading back to the shelter. The trip would take an hour, and night was beginning to creep across the horizon. What’s more, the edges of your boots were beginning to dampen from hours in the snow. At least you had your thick Wampa cape, which encased your body in warmth.
Another huff, this time disgruntled, sounded behind you.
You turned to the beast with a smile. “Oh Meetra,” you sighed. “I’m tired too. We’ll head back soon.” You reached up and scratched behind her ears. The Tauntaun relaxed as the tension in her muscles began to release.
Suddenly, a deafening boom sounded from above and behind you. You flinched, your body shocked out of Hoth’s calm surroundings. Meetra, equally startled, tried to pull and sprint away, but you grabbed the reigns tightly, keeping her calm. You spun around, eyes glued to the sky as a mechanical moan emanated from the atmosphere, its source still invisible in the blue sky. But in an instant, a gray, round shape with smoke trailing behind shot through a cloud and barreled toward the planet’s surface. You watched as what looked like a ship tried to level its descent miles away. In the back of your mind, you hoped that your dear friend, who you last saw years ago, was not inside. Within seconds of that thought, the ship made contact with the ground. A blast of sound and burst of snow left in its wake.
As you watched thin trails of smoke begin to billow in the distance, you felt a sudden pang in your heart, and pull to the wreckage. There could be survivors in desperate need of help, you thought. Maybe they needed medicine, or bacta patches. You contemplated the emotions of whoever may have lived through such a brutal incident. Scared, hopeless, confused— you could identify with those sentiments.
But it didn’t take long for the warnings you’ve heard all your life to creep into your mind. If you broke your agreement, you knew you might regret it. Not just for your own sake, but his too.
“Stay safe. No unnecessary risks. I’ll return soon.”
“I promise.”
A grumble escaped your lips. You agreed to stay out of trouble, to wait. But it’s been so long. Years. Nearly a decade, if you followed the stars correctly.
Then again, he knew your nature. He accepted long, long ago that you were too curious for your own good. He probably thought to himself, as he watched you grow, how your kindness, determination, and sympathetic soul were sure to get you into trouble.
You knew yourself, and you knew he was right. But you could not stand idly by and watch. He’d understand.
You turned back and took a few strides toward Meetra before slinging a leg over the Tauntaun’s body and mounting her bare back. You kept a tight hold of the reigns and angled her head toward the crash site.
“Let’s go girl.” You clicked your tongue twice, signaling her to move. “Let’s check it out.”
Meetra vocalized as she took her first stride forward. Her feet crunched the freshly dusted snow, stamping large tracks behind you.
Obi-Wan felt cold air blow across his face and ice dust his fingertips long before having the energy to open his eyes. Slowly, but surely, he tested the movement of his toes, knees, and elbows before checking his sight. Obi-Wan groaned, rubbing his face before assessing one eyelid at a time. Blinding sunrays poked through a small hole in the viewport, lightly burning his eyes. A groan escaped his throat.
Once his vision readjusted, Obi-Wan was able to glance around the cabin. The shuttle was delicately balanced on its right side, gravity attempting to pull them down to the shuttle’s edge. The hull creaked and moaned as snow continued to escape through the viewport hole, adding to the light blanket of ice around the trio. Obi-Wan turned to his left and saw that much like himself, Ahsoka and Anakin were thankfully not thrown from their seats, likely due to the elder Jedi’s last-minute force shield around them. Their arms and legs hung toward him, following gravity’s pull. As he examined the two more closely, Obi-Wan could tell that Ahsoka had regained consciousness only moments ago. Anakin seemed to be in the throes of coming around, his head bobbing side-to-side in discomfort.
“Is everyone alright?” Obi-Wan cleared his throat after his voice cracked.
“I think so,” Ahsoka responded. She began to rub her montrals as if responding to a migraine.
“Here.” Obi-Wan tossed her one of the robes that had fallen to the ground. “It will be colder once we exit.” Ashoka silently thanked him as she slipped it on.
“That wasn’t too bad.” Anakin was suddenly wide awake, an air of contentment emanating from his force signature. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes as he tossed him another robe, this time without warning. Anakin caught it easily despite the distraction from patting himself on the back for his personal definition of an easy landing.
Ahsoka’s eyes narrowed. “What would have been good was not crashing in the first place.”
Clearly, the young Padawan was equally in deep need of real respite like the rest of them, Obi-Wan thought. As their conversation continued, he finally found the energy to stand, taking this moment to observe the hull.
“Well too bad, Snips.” Anakin retorted as he shrugged on the thick cloak. “We’re already here.”
Obi-Wan sighed as he assessed the damage. “Is it repairable?”
“Honestly? I’m not sure.” Anakin stood and hiked up to the shuttle’s exit, using the force as support against the gravity actively pulling him down. The mechanical creaks and cracks heightened with new movement. Ahsoka grabbed her armrest and jumped over it toward the door. Obi-Wan took a few wide strides to follow. Once the three reached the wall that was now the ceiling, Anakin opened the door with a click and whoosh.
The cold bite of an air blast attacked their faces and pockets of exposed skin. Anakin shielded his eyes from sudden bright light and surveyed his surroundings. His former Master and Padawan peered out from either side of him. The trio stood there for only a moment, staring out at miles upon miles of empty terrain, ice, and snow banks.
Anakin jumped out, gently landing on the surface ten free below. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka swiftly followed with equal elegance. As Anakin made his way toward the engines to assess the damage, Obi-Wan used the moment to scan their surroundings further. The sound of Anakin ripping off panels and testing the shuttle’s internal mechanisms echoed off the naked ice patches dotted around them.
He closed his eyes, reaching out cautiously with his mind to feel the area’s energy. There were clusters of forces, small and animal-like, scattered miles away, with one group especially concentrated in a cave, the entrance of which Obi-Wan spotted a few miles West. He relaxed, feeling comfortable enough to deepen his connection with his surroundings.
Obi-Wan’s head tilted and eyebrow raised when he felt particularly strange activity to the South. There was an extremely weak force signature, almost like a dying creature. But it didn’t feel like the sensation of a semi-sentient being. There was depth, conflict in the shaky signal.
He huffed, eyebrows creasing as he attempted to dig his heels deeper into the fleeting feeling. But just as he was getting a better grip, the life force disappeared. Maybe it truly was just a small animal, meeting their Maker.
Obi-Wan opened his eyes. The bright light reflected off the snow and into his retinas.
He knew which planet they had crash-landed on. It shared its name with this system. Nevertheless, he enjoyed using these unexpected moments as a learning opportunity.
“Do you know what planet we’re on?” He said as he turned to look at the young Togruta.
Ahsoka pondered his inquiry. She observed the region, surveying the planet before looking down at the sleet encapsulating her feet. She lightly kicked some snow as she formulated her thoughts.
“Hoth, right?” She questioned.
Obi-Wan smiled. “Very good.” He turned back to the distant ice cave, hoping to get a better sense of the creatures within. It was possible that they might emerge to investigate the excitement of their crash landing. The boom was likely heard from miles away.
“I remember reading about the Skell beings on this planet.” Ahsoka mused. “They refused to choose a side during the old civil war. Instead, they attacked everyone within moments of seeing them.” Her voice stuttered as she finished. The cold was beginning to affect her.
Obi-Wan was pleasantly surprised. “I’m impressed by your knowledge, Ahsoka.” He made sure to raise his voice a little. “Clearly, you took your studies more seriously than Anakin.”
“I can still hear you!” Anakin yelled from behind the engines and he stood up, followed by a sharp clang. “Ow!”
“It looks like you could use a hand.”
Obi-Wan whirled around at the sound of a new voice as Ahsoka followed suit. His eyes met a figure with y/h/c hair and piercing silver eyes that glimmered in the sunlight. The figure sat atop a large, furry beast with two horns framing its round snout. A sizable white furred drape wrapped around their torso and hid their legs.
“Hello there.” Obi-Wan greeted.
Hearing all the commotion, Anakin peaked around the back of the shuttle, rubbing the back of his head in defeat. Curiosity paused his assessment, pushing him to join the others.
The beast huffed and lightly stomped its feet at the presence of strangers. The stranger hushed the animal, stroking its neck to calm it before throwing a leg across its back and demounting.
“I saw your ship crash a few miles back.” They explained as they took a few strides forward. “You should know that recreational hunting on this planet is illegal.”
“We’re not hunters...” Ahsoka clarified.
“Just travelers who lost their way.” Obi-Wan cut in. The young Padawan has yet to learn that these days, strangers fear the Jedi in the Outer Rim. Best to remain anonymous.
“Well, you better find shelter soon.” You advised. “The surface temperatures drop too low for non-indigenous beings to survive after sundown.” Everyone seemed alive and healthy when you arrived, you thought. You sensed that the trio before you was more than capable of handling their own affairs from this point forward, so you turned and walked back toward Meetra, satisfied with your investigation.
“Do you live nearby?” The older, bearded man quickly asked. You paused. You knew you shouldn’t indulge the questions of strangers, but curiosity got the best of you. You spun to face the man. He took a few steps toward you. “Is there a village somewhere? We have yet to find signs of civilization.”
Your friend’s voice echoed in the back of your mind.
“Stay safe. No unnecessary risks.”
You took a step back.
The older man paused mid-step as he analyzed your features. He silently apologized by gently lowering his foot back beside the other. The man smiled, likely hoping to make you more comfortable.
“No village.” You paused, internally sighing. You wondered whether you would regret this decision, despite knowing deep in your bones that it was the right thing to do. To help them. To guide them toward survival on this planetoid death trap.
But then your mind pulls you back to your promise. A promise you intended to keep. Still, you had thrown away any semblance of cautiousness hours ago when you first decided to explore the wreckage, you reasoned.
You eyed the hunk of metal once more. It certainly was beaten up. But despite the many dents, holes, and obviously mangled engines, the fact that it wasn’t a pile of parts was simply a miracle.
“I’m surprised your ship suffered such little damage.” You exclaimed, glancing back at the trio. “I wasn’t expecting to find a ship at all with your reentry.” As you finished, you noticed the younger man’s frown at that comment.
The bearded gentleman smiled. “We were very lucky.”
The whistling of chilly wind filled the brief silence. It whirled around the four of you, threatening to take all of your cloaks off your very back. They were sure to perish if they remained out here for any longer.
You internally groaned, knowing that you’ve already made your decision. No avoiding it now.
“There’s no village.” You took a deep breath, hardening your face in case this group was not who they said they were. Best to seem somewhat tough. “But you’re welcome to accompany me back to my shelter. There should be room for everyone.”
The bearded man’s eyes brightened at the gesture. “That is very kind of you.” He seemed sincere.
You could see that the young Togruta behind him also relaxed. She seemed to be especially affected by the cold as she lightly shook. The idea of a warm place to rest surely put her mind at ease. The younger man seemed somewhat surprised, but equally content.
You relaxed at their innocent features, and grinned. “It will take a few hours so we better leave now.” You turned again and walked to Meetra’s side before pausing once more. You faced the trio. “I only have one Tauntaun and she can only carry two people at a time. We’ll need to take turns.” You climbed onto your steed.
“Sounds good to me!” The younger man blurted out. He lightly jogged up to the Tauntaun with a relaxed countenance before jumping up and mounting the steed behind you. You could tell that their younger companion was annoyed with their compatriot’s blatant gall. The man glanced over your shoulder. “My name’s Anakin, by the way.” His toothy grin caught the light.
You chuckled, glancing over at the young man. “Nice to meet you.”
“This is Ahsoka.” The bearded man motioned to the young girl. “And I am Obi-Wan.” He placed a hand against his chest.
Their bright spirits lightened your soul. “It’s a pleasure.” You steered Meetra around toward the shelter far behind you. Clicking your tongue, you began the journey.
“So this shelter,” Anakin started. His head returned to hover over your left shoulder. “You don’t happen to have any century-old shuttle parts or schematics…”
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan warned as his march met Meetra’s pace to your right, Ahsoka in tow.
Your bright laughter filled the air as you further relaxed. When you looked back at Anakin you noticed Obi-Wan’s comforting smile out of the corner of your eye. “You know…” you teased. “You may be in luck. Useless centuries-old knowledge is probably all I have.”
Anakin seemed satisfied with your witty retort as he leaned back with a pleased utterance. In your peripheral, you could see Obi-Wan’s interest was piqued by the lift of his eyebrows. He looked out West, into the distance, clearly contemplating your words.
After a moment, his gaze shifted back to the caravan, catching your eye. His features lightened. “I believe I missed your name.” Obi-Wan challenged.
You turned back toward the path ahead and smiled. “Y/n.”
“Hmm.” You glanced back at his vocalization. He stroked his beard while his gaze returned to the West.
“Y/n”
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