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ddejavvu · 4 months

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Betrayal - Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

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

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

WC: 16.9K / navigation / inbox

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You freeze; you’re caught.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But will you forgive yourself if you do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Typical.

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

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

Oh. Perhaps he hadn’t forgotten.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Would have.

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

“But Anakin…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s too meticulous.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He comes undone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you regret it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There is a shirt on your bed.

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

It’s Obi-Wan’s.

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

It’s Obi-Wan’s; it’s yours.

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

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

You and Obi-Wan.

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hellotherekenobi · 1 year

Text

Temptation’s Kiss.

Summary: the three times Obi-Wan almost kissed you and the one time he did.

Word Count: 6,762

Dedicated to my kid sister @kyber-crystal!! Love you!

CW/TW: Obi-Wan’s POV; super light angst but mostly fluff; mentions of blood & injury; my Clone OC makes a reappearance; I’m addicted to using Star Wars slang.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As a Jedi, Obi-Wan is accustomed to rules. No attachments, keep the peace, and never give into the Dark Side. Simple enough and, as he believes, important rules to have. But after meeting you, he’s had to assert some of his own rules.

Don’t let this feeling fester, keep his composure, and most important of all don’t kiss you.

He’s never felt a temptation as strong as wanting to do something so dangerous since knowing you. He’s been angry before—vengeful, even—but this was something entirely more difficult to withstand. It would be so easy, like nothing at all, to simply lean forward and press his lips to yours, but—no! He can’t.

He won’t.

Just, Maker please, stop giving him those eyes.

It’s not even deliberate, that’s the issue. You have no idea how that look of yours makes Obi-Wan’s knees weak. How butterflies start swarming in the pit of his stomach the moment you look at him from under your lashes with parted lips. Maker, he’s losing himself.

The moment itself isn’t tempting, which makes this harder. He wasn’t exactly expecting for his heart to lurch out of his chest when you stepped closer to him. All he had done was hold your lightsaber out to you when you were about to leave the training room without it. You walked over to him quickly, thanked him under your breath, and as soon as your fingers touched the hilt and his skin, you gave him that soul-dividing look.

He could split in half having you look at him like that. You whisper his name and that isn’t helping in the slightest, especially as he’s lost his breath and so no reply can form even if he wants one to.

Don’t you know that you’re tearing him from the inside out with just your eyes?

Finally, you speak. “You’re always looking out for me.”

That brings him down from whatever numbered cloud he was perched upon, now swallowing enough to gain his voice. “Well, you really shouldn’t lose this.”

“I know,” you smile. “You’d kill me.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s me who you’d have to worry about.”

Obi-Wan nods his head up and you hold his gaze for a moment, totally cheerful, before turning around to see he motioned over at Master Yoda down the hallway; not near enough to hear or, probably, see you both, but still there.

“You’re right about that, I’m afraid,” chuckling, you look back at him and the wind is knocked from him again. “All the more agreeable for you since I bested you in our match.”

“Now, hold on,” he wags a finger and you laugh. “You said best two out of three.”

“I did.”

“That was two. You’ve yet to beat me a third time.”

“Ah, but, Obi-Wan,” you step nearer to him. “You just admitted I’ve beaten you twice already.”

His heart is pounding in his chest and he’s worried it’s going to make an ugly splatter down his robes if you catch him off guard one more time. Around you, he feels boyish. He finds himself irrational and blushing. Maker, hopefully you never catch the tint on his cheeks. Though, he must thank you; he’s never smiled so much before since knowing you.

And you seem to always be smiling at him, too. He does hope that it’s not all in his head, though. He really hopes that incandescent smile of yours is meant for him.

“Well,” he gradually finds his voice. “It would be rather foolish of me not to recognize your skill.”

“My thoughts exactly,” you glow, reaching forward to straighten the fold in his tunic.

Please don’t feel how fast his heart is beating. Please.

“A match for another time, though,” you draw your hand back. “I’m already late as it is.”

Obi-Wan nods, placing a hand where yours just was. Only briefly to feel the warmth there. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Of course, you will,” there’s laughter on your lips, shaking your head at him giddily.

He might cave in at just the sound alone. You’re so ethereal, so golden. Every room is lit up by you and he finds himself like a moth drawn to a flame. Curious and wondering how it might feel to burn himself. Would he taste your laughter amongst the blaze?

Your hand catches his wrist, squeezing gently. “Meet me here at sundown.”

“Of course,” he says, though what he means is anything for you.

Stable breath finally leaves his lungs when you happily turn out of the room, walking fast down the hallway. He’s too eager about seeing you again this evening that he knows his attention will be less than usual as he goes about his errands for the day.

Still, distracted by you is not a bad way to spend his time.

It’s bashful to admit that his thoughts are mostly occupied by you, regardless. For a Jedi with a Code to follow, the mere thought of you is much an effective motivator.

But he’s always been this way. Whether he likes it or not, Obi-Wan knows that he’s a hopeless romantic. It comes in many forms—some with how beautiful he sees such things like nature, the ocean, and the stars, and some with moments like younglings laughing on the grass, or a brother reaching out a hand for support. Many things he romanticizes. It just so happens that amongst all things, you’re the one his heart is set on.

The training room looks much different in a sunlit glow; everything casted over in deep orange. The morning felt cool, but there’s a warmth here now as the sun begins to dip beneath the horizon.

He’s been idly swinging the hilt of his lightsaber back and forth, eyes focused on the sunset. Too deep in thought to feel the presence behind him, though he should feel it, that he jumps a fraction when your hand meets his shoulder.

And dear Maker, you’re laughing at him again.

“You’re prepared this time?” Says you, smiling at him with a hint of sarcasm to your words.

Obi-Wan bows some, just enough to have you chuckling.

“Oh, yes. The question is, are you?”

“I suppose we’ll find out,”

Your cloak is thrown over to the side where Obi-Wan’s already lies and you’re stepping to your spot on the floor, watching him eagerly as you extend your lightsaber and it ignites ablaze. He grins at your enthusiasm and within a breath, you’re at each other.

It probably shouldn’t be something he admits to himself, but Obi-Wan quite enjoys sparring with you. There’s a thrill in the way the two of you reflect and deflect each other. An enticing energy of knowing that either of you won’t actually strike the other, though it’s possible. A tempestuous feeling of being close.

Almost like a dance, you and Obi-Wan spin around each other, outstretching hands, dipping beneath the other, and flowing like water until one of you acts the rock that stops the movement.

His boot catches your calf in a childish manner of comically tripping you, yet it’s at such an angle that your whole body tips forward, dropping with the weight of how his action hinders your stability.

If you were Anakin, in all honesty, Obi-Wan would have let you fall. But you’re gasping at the drop and he feels frantic to prevent you from hurting yourself, so he dips quicker than you fall to catch you in his arms. Hastily, however, that he loses his footing in the process and you’re both smacking against the tiles of the training room, your lightsabers retracted and rolling toward the wall.

The only fortune in that is how Obi-Wan goes tumbling first, effectively cushioning your fall straight onto his chest. But his head knocks against the floor, not enough to cause a contusion, but enough to make a sound that has your hand flying straight to the base of his neck from behind.

“Oh,” you worry, eyes direct on him. “Are you alright?”

He offers a smile, though there’s a throbbing in his head now.

“I’m fine. Are you?”

“Well, you caught me before I could be the one to smack my head against the floor, so, yes.”

Obi-Wan hums. “I might be regretting that now.”

There’s a slight huff to your smile as you help him sit straight, still close enough that at least some part of him is touching you. In this case, his legs are against your hips as you peer over his shoulder, your fingers still at the base of his neck and now flittering through his hair.

“I don’t feel a bump,” you say, inspecting the hurt area.

He wonders why you don’t sit behind him, since you’re practically draped over his shoulder at this point.

“Aren’t you lucky?”

You mean in reference to the fact that his head isn’t swelling but his mind nags at him that it’s because he’s able to touch you so closely.

“How come you dove for me?” You ask, sitting back to look him in the eyes. “You would have won if you let me fall.”

“Well,” he swallows. “I was hardly playing fair.”

“True, but,” you’re whispering now, “that doesn’t answer my question.”

His answer, if he were to be honest, would be hazardous. To tell you that he cares for you so deeply that even in a friendly match he would risk his own safety just to assure yours would not only speak of the secret to you but go against the Code he’s been following since before he can remember.

“Truth be told,” he starts. “I don’t want to be responsible for the injury of a fellow Jedi.”

“Ah,” you chuckle. “So, you were saving your skin.”

“And hurt my skin in the process.”

You give him a sympathetic smile, rubbing again at his head. His hair’s a mess, surely, if not by the fall then by how keenly he was sparring. Wisps along his forehead, no longer combed back as neatly as he does every morning. You don’t seem to mind, though.

In fact, you’re quite intent on soothing his pain. When Obi-Wan realizes that’s all you’ve been doing for the last minute, he brings a hand up to your own still in his hair and he gently rubs at your skin with his thumb, hoping that the gesture enough will stir you awake from whatever thought you’re buried in.

It does nothing. No, actually, you give him an even softer smile. This time, looking him in the eyes. It makes his heart do a summersault in his chest when it suddenly dawns on him that you’re both sat on the floor, legs pressed against each other, your hand in his hair and his hand on yours, and neither of you seem content to move.

His temptations are flooring him again and Obi-Wan is reminding himself of the rules he’s made, but that prior feeling is so much more powerful and even more harder to resist.

The air feels thinner and he thinks the only solution be your lips, if he were to press his own against them he might be able to breathe. He’s tipping, similar to when he caught you, instead this time he’s leaning for your touch, close to tearing down those rules of his.

Except just the mere mention of the rules, now more tangible as he watches you lean as well, gives him enough reason to stop himself before he starts. Though, he desperately wants to give in. Yet, he’s in the Jedi Temple of all places! This, as much as it is craved by his heart, is something he can’t let himself risk.

He places a hand on your shoulder before he can fall into it anymore, giving you a smile to ward away any confusion. Not that you were truly leaning into him, though. He must have been imagining it.

“Perhaps another time,” he says, meaning the fight but slipping the forbidden kiss between the words as well.

He’s assured no harm is done when you smile at him in reply, but there’s that glint in your eyes he knows too well.

“I won’t fall next time, Obi-Wan. I assure you that.”

Believe it, he’s already fallen.

─────── ⋯ ───────

As much as Obi-Wan is a fighter, he can’t deny that he rather enjoys quiet days. Such as now where he sits with his friends on a sunny afternoon, overlooking the gardens of Naboo.

Granted, it was a mission which was his reason for being here in the first place, but it was rather easy and with so many helpful hands it was sorted by lunch time. Padmé, ever the gracious host, insisted everyone stay for something to eat and when he felt his stomach growl at the mere mention of food, Obi-Wan couldn’t say no.

Anakin is sitting next to Padmé on his left and across on the other side is you and Riggs, a brave clone trooper and friend. Obi-Wan has always relished in the sound of your laughter, even feeling quite accomplished when he makes you smile, so your joy is something contagious as Riggs tells another one of his infamous stories.

“You’re always getting yourself into trouble,” you chuckle, nudging Riggs in the shoulder.

He laughs, brows raising in defense.

“Me?” He counters. “Says you, sparky. Should I tell everyone about our time on Bar’leth?”

Obi-Wan doesn’t miss the way you flare at that, shaking your head at Riggs in what is most likely supposed to be a subtle motion but it’s pretty obvious to anyone paying attention.

Your reaction only seems to spur Riggs on, who smiles wider than a Cheshire cat.

“I don’t think I’ve heard that one,” Anakin pitches in, leaning on the table with his elbow. “Care to share?”

“No,” you shake your head, looking from Riggs to Anakin. “It’s a very boring story, honestly.”

“Let them be the judge of that,” Riggs nudges your arm like you had done to him earlier. “It started off as a basic recon mission. We were going to spend the night when—”

“Riggs.”

He’s chuckling at your attempts to shut him up and Obi-Wan, silently watching the whole thing, starts to get this fire burning in the pit of his stomach that he’s not used to.

“The night?” He asks, cautiously. “Together?”

“Oh, yeah,” Riggs nods, facing Obi-Wan and gesturing with his hands. “Have you seen the way this one sleeps? Trust me, I’ve got pictures—”

The rest of his sentence gets swallowed down with the slice of cake you suddenly shove into his mouth, muffling whatever else he was ready to say.

“Have you tried the cake?” You ask, voice spikey. “I think the cake is delicious. Anyone want a piece?”

Padmé and Anakin are laughing, happily accepting your offer for some dessert. Riggs chuckles through a cough when he tries to consume the cake piece in his mouth in one gulp, and you’re slapping down on his back to help him but your lips are drawn in a tight line and Riggs makes a noise of pain.

“Obi-Wan?” Comes your voice, eyes on him.

He’s startled out of his trance—having been so focused on the way that despite the story you don’t want told, you’ve moved closer to Riggs—and finds himself confused on why you’ve called his name.

You smile, gesturing down at the table. “Do you want some cake?”

“Oh,” he breathes out, shaking his head. “No, thank you. I couldn’t eat another thing. I think I’ll go for a walk.”

“Now?” Anakin asks, eyeing his master with that brotherlike inspection. “Where are you going?”

“Just around,”

It’s more so a rushed answer as he excuses himself from the table, turning on his heel and ignoring the gazes set on him by everyone who watches him leave.

Being quick about it is probably not the best as hastiness, especially when running from something, is a clear identifier of offense. But he had to get away, strangely. That fiery feeling in his stomach grew too hot when he saw how cozy you and Riggs were sitting beside each other, and it felt like the flames were going to spill out from his mouth.

He’s never felt like this before. It’s scary, for one thing, that he can even experience a feeling that isn’t in his vocabulary, though there’s a storm over his head that tells him exactly what it is he just felt and why exactly he pushed himself away from the scene.

Though he flees, Obi-Wan does admire the Naboo gardens as he walks. Everything here is so vibrant; the water, the grass, the flowers, the fruit, the tastes and smells. If Obi-Wan convinces himself enough, he can believe this planet to be paradise.

Even so, it seems he can’t be alone for long.

“Obi-Wan,” he hears you call, and acting the fool, he runs.

Not as if he were being chased, but just quick enough to dip behind the large hedge and hide himself.

He sees you a moment later, walking down the path he was on a moment before with a small plate in your hand and a slice of cake sitting on it. Oh, how his heart melts at the sight of you.

What he thinks is going to happen is that you’ll look around, find him nowhere in sight, and keep on walking, or return to the others. At first, he thinks he’s correct as you stop in your place and look around the garden. But then you huff, something irritated, and march over to the hedge he’s crouched behind, shoving a fist through the foliage that meets him on the other side.

“Ow!” He cries, rubbing at his chest where you punched him.

“I knew you were there,” you say, stepping around it to face him. “Why did you hide?”

Obi-Wan pouts at the ache in his chest. You can land one hell of a punch.

“I wanted to be alone,” he says, not missing the way there’s a crease forming between your brows.

“Sorry,” you say it so softly, it almost breaks his heart. “You left so suddenly, I thought something must be wrong. So, I brought you a slice.”

Now, Obi-Wan feels guilty. All that surge of emotions prompted him to speak without really thinking first.

“I appreciate it,” he says, stepping forward to take the plate from your hand.

He doesn’t get ahold of it, though, as your hand grabs his wrist, pulling him alongside you as you walk across the garden. He’s stammering, asking you what you’re doing, but you just lead him with you over to a bench under a blossoming canopy, sitting down with a huff.

The plate is placed down beside you and to Obi-Wan’s dismay it is on the furthest side.

“You know you can tell me anything,” you say.

It’s truthful and Obi-Wan knows it, nodding with what you say. But he can’t find the words to tell you what’s on his mind. Or, rather, what’s on his heart. That’s the most embarrassing of all. The fire he felt is something he doesn’t want to utter aloud, but knows its reasoning. He’d rather keep it concealed.

When it seems you grow impatient at his silence, you shuffle toward him, sitting closer, and hold your hands out.

“Come on,” you wave them. “Meditate with me.”

Meditating sounds a lovely respite, however, he knows where his thoughts are heading. This will make matters worse, especially if you manage to hear him.

“No, thank you. I’m afraid I’m far from focused right now. I just needed some air.”

“While we sat outside?” Your brow raises with the tone of your voice, eyeing him suspiciously. “No cake, no meditating, and giving me some bantha fodder excuse... what’s wrong, really?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “You shouldn’t say that.”

Not like he’s been much of a saint with his vocabulary but, still, there is a matter of propriety he’s trying to maintain.

It doesn’t deter you, though. You sigh, reaching for him again. This time, holding his arms, leaning forward like you’re trying to peek behind his eyelids.

“Was it something I did?”

“No,” he’s quick to say it. “No, not you. That’s impossible.”

You smile at him, short and prideful. “Then how can I make things better, Obi-Wan? How can I help you?”

Everything you say sounds so beautiful, so tempting. If he knew there’d be no repercussions, he’d fall right into you. He’d let you hold him, knowing that even something as simple as that can cure him from his unnecessary saddling.

What he wants from you will not help him, though he wants to give into it. You’re so close to him again like that evening in the training room and he finds himself falling into what could be described as nostalgia even though the memory is not that far away.

He feels drawn-in again, a buzzing on his lips in yearning to press them against your own. Maker, you’re looking at him with those deep eyes and he’s losing his sense of control once more. The atmosphere aids in sweltering those feelings even more, sitting in such a romantic setting.

Moving does nothing to deter himself, he realizes. As soon as he shifts slightly, his hands drawing down your arms to settle in place where your hands are on him, he finds the space between you is more minimal than what it should be.

He wants to. He really wants to. But he knows he can’t.

“You can do me one favor,” he says, and your alertness is admirable. “Pass me the cake?”

You laugh, leaning backward when he says it and he’s freed from the closeness you both shared. With a smile on your lips, Obi-Wan understands how the fire in his stomach ignited from the way he loves making you laugh and, apparently, hates it when someone else can do it better than he can.

“If it helps,” you shake your head, picking up the plate, “then I’ll happily save you a slice.”

He’s done the same for you. Not with cake, but with his heart.

─────── ⋯ ───────

Dark clouds are swirling in the sky as the rain pours down heavily, almost making it hard to see. Obi-Wan is growing tired of running but he knows he can’t stop. Not unless he wants to be captured. Not unless he ever wants to see you again.

Getting ambushed on a mission is not exactly top five of the things Obi-Wan likes to experience, but being in the thick of it was simply his style. Where else would he be, really, if not right where it’s all happening, right in the danger?

Anakin was somewhere with Rex and Ahsoka, aiding one side of the battle, while Obi-Wan and yourself were fighting on this side. In the height of all of it, though, you both were separated. He knows you can handle yourself but he can’t help from worrying. After all, even in a playful spar, he’s making sure you don’t get hurt.

He’s fortunate enough to find coverage somewhere secluded, away from any prying eyes. Fortunate to catch his breath as he slides his lightsaber against his hip, leaning his head on the pillar and seeing his breath fanning in the air by how cold it is.

He knows he can’t stay here long. He needs to keep moving, otherwise they’ll find him. It’s not the best place to hide, anyhow, as the only thing keeping him from being seen is this pillar, and the rain is wafting down to where he is that he’s still getting wet. Less than standing under the sky, but not enough to bother wiping his brow.

There’s a pressure in the air before he sees a face, but he knows it’s coming quick enough to get his hand prepped on his lightsaber hilt, one move from drawing it.

Then, “Obi-Wan,”

It’s your voice and he turns to watch you slink behind the pillar further down, each pillar standing in a line, pressing your back up against it.

“Thank the stars,” he says under his breath, turning to lean on his shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head. “No. Are you?”

“No more than usual.”

When you raise your brow at him, he chuckles. It’s short-lived due to the tightness in his chest from having run for so long, still breathing heavily.

Same as him, you’re soaked from head to toe. You attempt to squeeze some water out of your robes but with the rain sweeping past the pillars, it doesn’t do much. With a sigh, you seem to also be delaying to rest, even for a short moment.

“So much for an easy mission,” you shake your head.

Obi-Wan grins. “Are they ever?”

“I suppose you’re right. Oh—” you click your fingers and he doesn’t fear the noise, knowing that the rain is covering up your voices. “What about Naboo? That was a piece of cake.”

He stares at you a moment, furrowing his brows some. There’s a chuckle ready to pour out from his mouth at any second, but it’s holding its place as he ponders.

“Was that a pun?” He asks.

You smile, ever so eagerly. “Of course.”

He lets the chuckle die, not necessarily being a big fan of puns, much to the dismay of one Anakin Skywalker.

“Well,” he confesses, “it’s nice to know you still have your sense of humor in situations like this.”

“And I’ve still got you.”

He smiles some, watching the droplets of water running down your face. It instinctually has him wiping at his forehead.

“As I have you.” He says.

You nod, peering behind the pillar. “Always.”

It won’t always be like this, though. Will it? Times change and Obi-Wan has known them to change pretty quickly, so he can’t help but wonder how long this will last, whatever this is. He hates to think that you only see him as a friend or a fellow Jedi and nothing more when he sees you like the sun on a cloudy day.

What he would give for some sun right now. When this mission is over, he fears he’ll get a cold.

“Have you seen the others?” He asks, hopeful that you’ve accomplished more than him.

“Only from when we landed,” you tell him. “But Ahsoka reached me by comlink. They’ve almost swept their area so I told her to meet us here, then I came and found you.”

“Good thinking,” he breathes out, finally regaining a normal rhythm with the beating in his chest.

There’s a kick of wind amidst the storm and a plentiful amount of rain comes splashing past the pillars and crashing onto the ground by both your feet. It makes you jump, stepping to the side of the pillar you were hiding behind.

“This rain is relentless!” You cry, looking down at all the water that leaves a giant puddle. “My boots are soaked. I’ll have to get some new ones—”

Water doesn’t pour past the pillars this time but instead gunfire does. A singular shot cuts through the rain, nipping your arm and you yelp, and then the rest of the cavalry seemingly arrive as more and more shots are fired where you are standing out in the open.

Obi-Wan manages to spring into action after the first shot, luckily, and grabs ahold of the arm closest to him, tugging you over to his pillar and right up against his body, where he shields the sides of you with his arms.

The gunfire doesn’t cease and you flinch, burying your face into his robes. He can only think to hold onto you tightly so that not even an inch of yourself is peeking past the pillar, in order that you don’t get shot at again.

When the attacks quieten, leaving just the downpour to fill up the empty space, Obi-Wan tightens a hand on your shoulder.

“Looks like you were followed,” he grumbles, though he knows it’s not your fault.

Your hands go from resting on his chest to gripping tightly onto his arms, risking a glance to the side in what Obi-Wan assumes is trying to find where the gunfire came from.

“Mother of Kwath!” You rage. “I was so careful too.”

He feels it in him to berate you for using that kind of speech yet again, but decides better of it.

“No use fretting on the past,” Obi-Wan says, one hand drawing to your back. “How bad is it?”

Your face contours into concentration, looking like you’re trying to number the amount of soldiers adjacent to where you both stand. Any freedom the two of you had to spring back into action is gone now. At the moment, you’re cornered.

“I can only make out the front line,” you groan, slinking in his arms. “There’s a lot of them, though.”

Obi-Wan hums. “Let’s hope that the others come quickly. But I was asking about your arm.”

You glance up at him, paused for a moment, like what he said comes as a complete shock to you, if only for the second after he said it.

“Oh,” looking down at your arm, you shrug. “It’s a scratch.”

“Really?”

Obi-Wan’s hand at your shoulder comes down to rest at the reddened area on your arm, undoubtedly where the blood is seeping through from the gunshot wound. He’s gentle as he peels back the cut in your robes, now singed, to inspect the area.

True as you said, it’s essentially a scratch. But it must have nicked you more than what he thought it did since it’s bleeding quite heavily. Nothing a bandage won’t fix, yet it’s there.

“Your verdict?” You ask him.

For the first time since he grabbed you, he realizes just how close the two of you are. Looking into your eyes feels as if walking into a trap, and the words get lodged in his throat as you watch him under your lashes.

You really, really don’t know what that look does to him.

“You’ll live,” he says, though he thinks he’s dying.

Even more so when the gunfire kicks up again and you’re stepping closer on instinct, same as he with wrapping his arms around you, and with the jump you both make, your noses touch.

The firing and rain might as well fade into the background, that’s how focused Obi-Wan is on you right now. There’s a voice in the back of his head, screaming at him to pay attention, you idiot! But he’s so far gone. So far gone. There’s no hope in coming back from this now.

He feels your hands climb his shoulders, one on the back of his neck and the other at his cheek, and he shivers as if the cold is what makes him do that.

“Obi-Wan,” you speak. “There might not be a next time.”

He’s fearful for a moment that you’ve just heard his thoughts, or that he isn’t wearing as good a poker face as he believed. But that can’t be what you mean. Going out in a blaze of glory, surely, is what exactly you meant by those words.

Though he thinks they’ll haunt him for the rest of his life if you both make it out of here alive.

Which, so happens, turns out to be very possible as a flash of blue comes from behind the pillar and moments later, Ahsoka’s head is peeking around the corner.

“Let’s go, you two.” She says with a curious eye.

You’re out of his arms within a second, running behind Ahsoka to jump into the fight.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, has to give himself a moment to breathe before he can pretend like he wasn’t just about to break one of his rules he so adamantly set up.

─────── ⋯ ───────

It’s been two weeks since the mission in the rain and Obi-Wan has been steadfast in taking every single mission thereafter that can put some distance between himself and you.

Even outside of the Order, if you and the others were going to spend time together, he’d give a curt “no, thank you” and some daft excuse and be as far away as possible from wherever everyone was going.

Maybe it’s a cowardly thing to do, since essentially Obi-Wan is running away, but with the temptations behind him already he feels like this is the only solution.

Anakin has asked about it, though. Ever the persistent friend, trying to uncover whatever Obi-Wan is hiding from him. He gets the same response every time—“There’s a war, Anakin.”—but none of it seem to deter him for very long.

Slowly, one by one, more people began to speak out about Obi-Wan’s behavior. Even Riggs. That was not a fun conversation. You too have tried to talk to him about it but he’s quick to make sure that you both have little to no interaction whatsoever, even if that means being a little harsh about it.

So, understandably, people were going to figure it out. Padmé, Anakin, Ahsoka, Rex, Cody, and Riggs have actually managed to talk to him. But you, on the other hand, have been evaded at every turn. Yes, it was obvious and everyone caught onto it. Now, Obi-Wan stays away from anyone he can (which doesn’t work well when you have Jedi duties to do.)

One day it happens. Obi-Wan is walking through the hangar bay to get to a ship for yet another solo missioned he accepted—though he really begged for it—and you’re waiting for him at the door of the vehicle, arms crossed and gaze set like stone against him.

Caraya’s Soul, you look scary like that.

He tries to play it casually, but in reality he’s beginning to sweat.

“Hello there,” he says, putting on a smile.

You don’t so much as grin at him. The ice cold front is not something he’s been a victim to with you before, and he pities whoever has.

“Let’s not dance around this, Obi-Wan.” Even your voice is far from cheerful. “Why are you avoiding me?”

The one thing he didn’t plan for, he now realizes, is the confrontation. He’s been running even from that.

“I’m sorry if you feel that way, but I promise I’ve only been doing my duty to the Order. I sometimes devote all my attention to it.”

Obi-Wan knows that’s the oldest lie in the book and it’s one of the most heartless lies as well, since he’s essentially flipping the blame onto you and hoping that you’ll take it and leave.

But you’re more persistent than that and Obi-Wan knows this, with the exception of you leaning off of the ship and stepping directly in front of him.

“You’re a kriffing liar, Obi-Wan.”

“You really shouldn’t say—”

“You’re ignoring me and I want to know why!”

That’s the most angered you’ve ever been around him and what hurts him is that he’s the one you’re angry at. He theorized that with his relentless avoidance that you could be upset, sad mostly, but angry wasn’t something he thought he’d come up against.

So, he does what he knows has worked so far. He runs away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says it like he’s offended, stepping around you. “You’re imagining things.”

Your hand reaches out and grabs him by the arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Stop lying to me, Obi-Wan. I know you better than you think and I can tell something’s wrong, and I can tell it’s to do with me.”

There’s hurt in your voice and Obi-Wan wants to wrap you in his arms like he caught you during training, or when he wanted to hold your hands in the Naboo gardens, or when he held you to him behind the pillar. All reasons why he wants to run to you and all reasons why he ran from you in the first place.

“We were so close,” you say. “What happened?”

He’s reminded of just how many good times there have been with you. All the times you both spent together—training, fighting alongside each other, drinking Jawa Juice in the silent hours of the morning when both of you should be asleep, and how with every joke he’d tell, you’d hold onto his arm like you haven’t heard anything funnier.

The grip you have on his arm now is not as pleasant as those times, though. He can feel it from your veins to his that you’re desperate.

“Let me in, Obi-Wan.” You whisper, turning toward him. “Won’t you, please?”

He’ll slip, he knows he will, if he lets you talk to him like that. He’ll fall even harder and ignore that voice in his head even more just from one look from you. Without so much as knowing it, you can reel him in by the simple gestures alone.

He can’t let himself get tangled in this. As the wielder of a blue lightsaber, he has to guard himself. Protect his heart from the dangers of loving you.

Pressing his hand down firmly on yours still holding tight to his arm, he pulls you off of him.

“There’s nothing to say.”

He sees your heart break when you frown at him, as if he threw the words right at you.

“Why are you doing this?” Your question presses him and there’s a waver to your voice that almost shatters him.

He sighs, aching through his bones. “I have to go.”

“Don’t hide from me,”

“There’s much I have to do—”

“You’re hurting my feelings.”

He groans within himself, screwing his eyes shut. “I mean no harm, I promise.”

“Then tell me I don’t matter.”

At once, his eyes open and he sees the damage he’s truly done. You’re crying silently, waiting for him to make it worse. The determination he had to rid your mark on him goes melting away to the floor, content on dissolving beneath his feet.

All the strength he has feels like it’s failing him. He can’t stay but he can’t bear to go. He’s splitting apart, ripping rigidly into two shapes he won’t be able to recognize once they separate.

Is it even possible that he can remain a whole without you in his life?

There is not even an ounce of him that can say the words you want him to speak, even if it’s a lie. Simply saying it would do more damage to him than you can possibly imagine.

He shakes his head. “I can’t do that.”

You raise your chin, frustrations seeping into the sadness of your gaze. “No, I want you to say it.”

“Why would you want that?”

“Because if you say it then I’ll let you leave.”

You’re tearing him apart with this, digging your fingers into his flesh. There is not an inch of him that detests you so, not even some part of him that finds one attribute of yours less than lovely. You’re everything to him.

“I can’t just let you go,” you say, lips trembling. “Because I love you too much. I have to hear you say that I don’t matter so that I don’t hold on for an explanation you’ll never tell.”

A weight drops on him, direct on his chest. It pushes and pushes and he loses his breath.

“You love me?”

The question feels so boyish but you look so sure, and it’s enough for him to forget every warning he’s ever told himself.

“I’ve always loved you.” You tell him.

That’s enough, he thinks, to break the dam. Nothing could penetrate his armor, he once thought, but you’ve done it with gentle fingers. With one touch, he dispels like smoke and with it go his rules.

He does what he held himself back from doing before, three times already. Obi-Wan reaches out, his hand on your cheek, and he leans closer than the two of you have ever been and he kisses you, deeply, sweetly, and achingly. He kisses you with sincerity. He kisses you with all the might he has remaining.

His affections pulse between your lips, flowing like electricity enough to spark you awake. Instantly, your arms are wrapped around him, pushing enough to make the space between you burst. It shatters so that only you two remain.

Obi-Wan kisses you now, knowing he’ll kiss you again tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day he knows he’ll spend the rest of his life with you, burying his lightsaber in the sand.

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#obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan imagine #obi-wan kenobi fanfic #obi-wan fanfic #star wars imagine #star wars fanfic

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where-fantasy-meets-reality · 2 years

Text

The Way He Looks

Masterlist

Pairing: Obi-Wan x F! Reader

Rating: Explicit

W/C: 5.5 K

Warning: Pure smut. Read at your risk. MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE! 18+ only.

A/N: I’ve had this one done for a while now and just have been lacking the courage to post it. I’m not used to writing a lot of smut but this story idea is underrated in my humble opinion and too good to pass up, and I got tiered of allowing it live in my brain rent free. That being said, I hope you enjoy it and your support is always appreciated and welcomed.

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You stood against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Jedi Council Chamber. The council wasn’t in session, but that didn’t matter to you. There was only one council member you were waiting for.

You had been in a secret relationship with Obi-Wan for months now despite that it had caused to you stray from the code. Well, only in the official sense, Obi and yourself had still stayed true to all of your responsibilities as Jedi. Additionally, both of you were in agreement that if it came to it, you would both lay your life down for the Jedi Order; separately or together.

Therefore, in your eyes, the relationship was just a beautiful expression of the bond the two of your shared through the Force.

How could a relationship that was filled with light, compassion, and love, all-natural parts of the light side of the Force, be wrong? Under that logic, the only thing that you two really had to worry about was the Council or your fellow Jedi finding out.

Obi-Wan was due back from a mission at any moment now. As his ship had entered the star system, he had messaged you on a secure channel and told you to meet you in the Jedi Council chambers….so, here you were, leaning casually against the window.

Waiting.

You wondered what could be so urgent that he needed to see you right away. If he was back from a mission, wouldn’t the Council need to be debriefed? Did he want you to sit through the debriefing? Had the mission gone bad and he needed to talk to someone? Or was he injured and didn’t want anyone to know? The possibilities were endless and It was killing you as to what the sense of urgency in his voice could have meant.

Sounds of the sliding door and leather boots shuffling along the floor had you spinning around.

Obi-Wan entered the chamber, healthy and clean looking. You breathed a sigh of relief at that. His brown Jedi robes flowed around him as he walked quickly over to you. As he got closer to you, you could see that his pupils were blown wide and filled with emotion.

With no words, he opened his arms out toward you as you ran into them. Picking you up, he spun you around as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. His warm breath and beard tickled you as you tightened your arms around his neck.

“Obi-Wan.” You whispered into his check as you placed gentle kisses on his skin.

“My darling…” He murmured as he nuzzled himself deeper into your neck. “...I’ve missed you so much…”

Chuckling softly, you smiled as you pushed back from him so you could better look at him.

“I missed you too….That mission felt like it was far too long…but I understand, we all know I’ve had to go on long missions too…. it’s inevitable. ”

You knew he worried when he was away from you. He wasn’t the jealous type or even the overprotective type; quite the opposite. Kenobi was a progressive and secure man. He knew you were more than capable of taking care of yourself and that you didn’t have wondering eyes. Yet, that didn’t mean that he wanted to be away from you either.

The days he could spend with you in his arms, the mornings you could wake up together…or even just the quiet moments he got with you were his most treasured memories. Being able to see you every day, knowing that you were smiling and healthy, and knowing that if you needed him for anything, he was there.

His lips flattened into a line. “It doesn’t help me better….still though…” He looked fully at you, his blown, crystal blue eyes finally meeting yours. “...I’m glad to see you are well and alright…I know I don’t have to but….I worry.”

Standing on your tippy-toes, you gave him a sweet, short kiss. “Just one of the many reasons why I love you.”

As you pulled away, he chased after your lips.

You felt his large hand cradle the back of your head as he modeled his lips to yours. His fingers gingerly weaved their way through your hair as his other hand sneaked its way around your waist. Using both hands, he pulled you back to him so that your bodies were touching.

Relaxing into his hold, you wrapped your around his neck again, but this time you indulged in running your fingers through his hair; a secret guilty pleasure.

His tongue rubbed up against your lips, asking for your permission and entrance. Without hesitation, you opened your mouth as you deepened the kiss.

Without ceasing his advances, he slowly started walking you backward.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him to guide you, for you trusted him completely. But you had never seen him like this.

Reluctantly breaking the kiss, you panted trying to catch your breath. “....Obi…Obi-Wan, what are we doing?”

Placing his hands under your butt, he lifted you up and you instinctively wrapped your legs around him.

As he looked up at you, you noticed the neediness that he radiated through the Force. “...I thought of nothing but you…as the days grew longer my need turned to agony…Now that I have you in my arms again, I don’t want to waste another second….I need you.”

Shock coursed through you as you struggled in his hold, somewhat objecting. “HERE?! NOW??.... We can go back to my chambers if you want, it will take less than five minutes for us to get there.”

Arching an eyebrow, he smirked. “Thats five minutes too long for me dear…”

“What if someone comes in here?! You just got back from a mission, won’t the Council meet soon for a mission report?” You huffed as he started kissing you again.

Supporting your weight with one hand, he waved the other one. You heard a faint “click” on the other side of the room.

Placing you down in his council chair, he leaned into you. ‘...No one will be coming in here now…besides…I’m not due back from my mission for another hour…”

Obi-Wan wiggled his eyebrows at you playfully.

Conceding finally, not that it took much persuasion on your part, you grabbed his face and pulled him to you.

Over the years you had lost track of how many boring council meetings you had to sit through, desperately trying to keep focus. You would always end focusing on Obi-Wan and how he would sit in that chair; the splay of his legs, how his hands rested on the arms of the chair, the way he sat back….Just the way he looked in that chair....oh the fantasies you would entertain yourself with.

You silently squealed with excitement and laughter….guess you were about to put some of those fantasies to good use.

He hovered over you, one hand resting on the curve of your hip while the other cradled the back of your head again, fingers splayed into your hair.

You moaned as your tongue danced with his; the low moans you let escape against his lips while your hips bucked slightly, desperate for any relief that it could get, not so secretly drove him wild.

As he looked into your eyes, the fingers of the hand that gripped your hip kneaded themselves into your soft flesh, causing another moan to escape from you as your head flew back into the cushion of the chair.

“Obi,” you huffed, practically begging him to touch you.

“Sssshhhh. I know princess, I know….”

You melted when he called you that. It was a nickname he didn’t use often and it was very unlike him. He only used it when he was especially teasing or needy. That thought shot to your core, causing a feeling like lava to flow through your lower belly.

Everything felt like it was all happening at once. The way his gravelly voice, heavy with his own want, rumbled in your ear and the way the scrape of his beard felt against your cheek didn’t help things much.

Kissing your chin, he listened to your whimpers of anticipation as he slowly kissed his way down your jaw. Sloppy, wet open-mouthed kisses that caused you to let out more tiny whimpers filled the otherwise silent chamber.

You were so wanton at this point, that all of his ministrations were all too much and not enough at the same time.

“Let us get you out of some of these clothes love.” He whispered as his hands reached for the hem of your tunic.

Now fully on board with his sentiment about not wanting to waste any more time, you hurriedly reached out and grabbed your tunic, and pulled it up. You threw it off you in a swift motion and over your shoulder. Before it landed on the floor behind the chair, you had reached with both hands for your bra, making quick work of discarding that as well.

Obi-Wan smiled a pleased expression. “Much better,” he purred as he sprinkled sweet kisses over your face.

His warm hands were running up and down your torso, swirling themselves over your soft skin. The hand that had been holding your head was now massaging your breast. With his large hand, he gently cupped it and slowly ran fingers over your flesh, softly groping you. He made sure to roll your peaked nipple between his fingers and it caused your cry out in both frustration and pleasure.

Groaning with want, he leaned down, continuing his work. His warm mouth covered your other neglected breast, his tongue running over your nipple and playing with it as he suckled it playfully.

Your head shot forward as you gently tugged on his hair and your legs slammed shut in desperation.

His eyes flicked to yours as his fingers pinched one breast and his teeth grazed the other. “Be patient darling.”

“Now it is I who need you.” You whined as he switched breasts, suckling the one that he had been groping earlier.

Rising up to kiss you sweetly on the lips again, his hand that has been playing with your breast now skimmed the edge of your jaw. “I know you do, darling. I promise I’m going to take care of you.”

Again your legs shut in desperation, needing friction, needing him to stop being such a tease after he had lit this fire in you.

Sensing your growing want that was matching his own, he cupped your jaw as he kissed you. He started his slow descent, his lips never leaving your skin.

He passed over the column of your throat, leaving tiny kisses everywhere. The feeling of his lips searing the skin of your neck caused your breath to shudder. Swirling his tongue against your skin, you shivered slightly.

His hand continued its way down, past your breast. Giving your nipple another squeeze for fun, his fingers slid along the smooth skin of your rib cage.

As his hands now found the curve of your hip, he kneaded the skin there as he peered up at you through his eyelashes. Those absolutely gorgeous blue eyes, accented and surrounded by his brown robe took your breath away.

Massaging fingers dug into the subtle flesh of your hips and he leaned up again and kissed you passionately, the scrape of his beard scratching your jaw as his fingers left marks on your skin, and his tongue danced with yours. The sensations caused you to gasp audibly in his mouth.

He would never tell you how much he loved to hear the sounds you made when he touched you, and he would do everything he could to get you to make those sounds for him.

For him to know that it was him who caused those sounds to fall from your pretty lips, to bring you the pleasure that caused you to thrash your body against his, to hear your voice call his name in fits of lust, love, and passion, filled him with a sense of pride that was very unbecoming of a Jedi. Everything was different when it came to you, he was yours and you were his.

You were his only vice, his one weakness. The only thing that could cause him to break the rules of the Jedi Code….and the only thing he saw as worthy of breaking the rules for.

“You’re so beautiful my sweet girl, did you know that?” He murmured as he kissed his way across your collarbone.

Feeling the slight bucking of your hips against him and hearing your cries, he decided to take pity on you finally. Backing away slightly, one of his hands parted your folds as his long fingers ran through them.

Your head immediately flew back into the chair as you whined. “Ahhh! Obi…..Oh, Obi…please stop teasing me!” You cried as he ran his fingers up and down your most sensitive part.

Burying his face in your neck, you felt his bread scratch against you as his tongue swirled itself against your skin, leaving open-mouthed kisses on the column of your throat all the way up to your ear. Leaning down over you, even more, than he already was, his hot breath against your ear caused you to squirm and your arousal to pool on his palm. “Oh, sweetheart.” He crooned. “Are you all bothered and excited because of me?” He teased.

Finding your center, his middle finger started rubbing light circles against it.

The hand that was still holding your hip moved and reached its way up to your jaw and titled it so he could look into your eyes. “Is this all for me princess? Hmmm? Did you need me to take care of this for you?”

His ministrations and feather-light touches against your core were not enough to relieve you of the burning sensation in your belly, they were only just enough to drive you mad with more need. “Yes! Oh please, Obi…” you groaned as you thrashed your head.

“Such a good girl when you beg, so pretty.” Obi-Wan teased. He was inches from your ear and the tingles from his hot heath so close to you made your hips buck against his fingers.

The feeling of his beard scratching against your neck as he worked his way down your body caused you to writhe on his palm. As he traveled lower on your body, kissing as he went, you realized his destination, and you shuddered in anticipation.

He knelt in front of you as slouched in his council chair. Gently parting your legs to allow him better access, he kissed the inside of your thighs as he came to rest in between your legs.

The feeling of him sliding between your legs caused a whimper from the back of your throat to sound. Obi-Wan gave you a sweet chuckle as he looked up at you from between your legs.

“You look so beautiful like this darling, do you know that?” He placed a sensual kiss on one of your thighs. He softly placed your legs on his shoulders as he moved closer. His hands anchored themselves to your hips, his fingers massaging circles into your skin, as he leaned forward and gave your core a few soft licks.

Your head thrashed back at his touch and your body shuddered, he was such a tease. He knew you were practically begging for him to let you have your release and he just wanted to drag this out as long as he could, his need having been burning since the mission began. He was really taking his time with you.

Leaning back into you again, his eyes made contact with you as he lapped at your core, his lips sealing themselves around your nub. His eyes looked directly into yours as he finally have you the pleasure you craved.

“Yessss.” You gasped as your hand slid through his coppery hair, your fingers splaying through it and tugging slightly as he increased the pressure but not the speed.

Feeling two of his fingers slide into you made your eyes practically roll back into your head. You started bucking your hips to the rhythm of his thrusting fingers and his tongue. His licks and sucking alternated, driving you mad as you weren’t able to figure out the pattern that he was using. Checky man.

You felt him humm against you, forcing you to cry out his name. The vibrations against your core mixed with the sensation of his fingers hitting that perfect spot inside of you caused you to feel like you were going to explode. Inside your mind, you could hear his voice. “That’s it, sweet girl, let me hear you.”

When he used the Force on you, creeping into your mind to communicate with you and feel your pleasure through, it made you want to prolong the oncoming crash; so that you keep the both of you suspended in this euphoric state.

Mouth falling open, you let out a wanton moan as he sucked hard on your clit as his fingers thrusted in and out of you, opening you up for what would come next. His beard scraped the inside of your legs, leaving them raw and burned as the laval caused by his beautiful mouth pooled inside your lower belly. It was all too much and not enough at the same time. You wanted to combust apart but stay like this forever, in a state of blissed-out pleasure.

“Oh….my….O…Obi,” you gasped as you felt your insides erupt like butterflies lived inside you.

Feeling your velvet walls tighten around his fingers, he pumped them harder into you. He detached his lips from your core and rose swiftly up to your lips, catching the whimper that fell from your sweet mouth in protest from the place where you wanted his lips the most.

As fingers still thrusted into you, his other hand held your thigh open, allowing him to continued access to you.

His lips molded to yours in a passionate and wild kiss.

Bringing you higher and higher, you could feel your self starting to crash.

He moaned into you as squeezed around his fingers again. As his tongue wrestled with yours, you felt a feeling ghosting against your nub. It felt like his lips were on you again, like they were everywhere really. Your hands shot to his face as you grabbed onto him, burying your fingers in his hair.

Painting and moaning into him, he swallowed all your noises with his kiss as he brought you closer to your climax. Inside your mind, you heard his soft voice, thick with want in that Courscantian accent. “Cum for me darling, let me feel you.”

And that was it. The sound of his gravely, smooth voice in your head made you melt into him and his menstruations. All the different things he was doing to you caused you to clamp your walls down on his fingers as your thighs slammed shut and you all but screamed into his kiss as you tried to bring him closer to you.

Bringing you down slowly, his fingers slowed their thrusts and they became more gentle. Through the Force, he gave you the sensation of small, kitten licks on your core. His kiss became softer on your lips, more patient, allowing you to come down slowly rather than all at once.

Slowly, he pulled his fingers out of you and wiped them on his robe. As you panted heavily he kissed your forehead. “You did such a good job for me, sweetheart, do you think you’re up for more?”

His eyes looked onto yours, but there was no demand there. Just a warmth that you knew masked a burning desire for you, to experience pleasure with you. Who knew that the color blue could look so warm?

“Yes.” You whispered into his shoulder.

Without saying a word he lifted you up, held you to him, and sat himself down in the chair so that you were straddling his hips. His thick and hard cock that now tented his pants rubbed against your very sensitive core and you whimpered.

His hands that held your hips soothed them, rubbing circles into your skin, as he kissed your cheek. “It’s okay, take all the time you need. The doors are locked, no one’s coming to disturb us.”

Enjoying the blissful moments, the two of you planted sweet kisses on one another as you felt your mind slowly defog from the euphoria of your orgasm. Feeling like you slowly returned to your body, you started to feel the desire build up in your core again. It took hold of you and made you feel like you would disappear into nothing without his touch.

Rolling your hips, you rubbed your silky mound over his hard bulge, causing him to growl. “Tease” he rasped. Arching an eyebrow, you rolled your hips harder into him. Leaning close to his ear you whispered, “it’s all fun and games until your the one who gets teased.”

Your hot breath must have tickled him and sent goosebumps along his body and electrifyed his nerve endings, because his hips jerked hard into you at the sensation of your whispers. Kissing your way along his bearded jaw, you continued to grind your core against him. You loved watching him squirm just as much as he did you.

Your relationship was like that. You two were an intellectual match, all wit, and banter, but deep down, there was a profound love for one another. Getting each other all hot and bothered before pleasuring and indulging one another was just your way of expressing your love for one another.

Feeling his member twitch from your teasing and his increased breathing that registered in your ears, you started to lower yourself down to the floor so that you were the one kneeling in between his legs now. His eyes grew as he realized what you were doing.

Leaning forward, he started to protest and tried to reach for you. “Oh, no darling you don’t have….” but the feeling of an invisible sensation pushing him back and holding him down caused him to cut his sentence short.

“Ssssshhhhh….” You whispered as your fingers nimbly slipped into the hem of his pants and started to pull them down. Patting his thighs, you encouraged him to raise his hips. Grunting and struggling, he griped “That’s not how you’re supposed to use the Force.”

Arching an eyebrow, you released him so that he could comfortably lift his hips for you. “Says the Jedi Master who used it to pleasure me not even five minutes ago.”

Grunting in protest as you released him, he lifted his hips allowing you to remove his pants and boxers. His large, thick member that glistened with pre-cum at the tip popped out and Obi-Wan gasped with relief as his member was now freed.

Pressing a gentle kiss to the hip of his member you murmured, “tell me you don’t want this and I won’t do it.”

“It’s degrading.” He huffed, hips jerking involuntarily against your lips.

Sultry as you could, you bent down to the floor and removed his pants and boots. Rising slowly, you kissed the inside of his thighs as you made your way back up to his member.

Your eyes locked with his gorgeous blue ones as you slowly interested the tip of his member into your mouth and slowly sucked, swirling your tongue around his tip.

Obi-Wan’s head flew backward as you slowly sucked on the tip of cock. Releasing it from your mouth with a “pop” sound. “Mmmmhhhhmmm….It’s not degrading if I want to do it…”

Taking the base of him in your hand, you pumped his member again as you re-inserted him into your mouth, cheeks hallowed out. Keeping a steady rhythm, you started bobbing your head and sucking to the same rhythm that your hand was pumping him.

“...O…Oh….Fuck….Stars sweetheart…” He huffed, his hands gripping the armrests of the chair, his knuckles turning white. As one of your hands patted his thighs for encouragement, your other hand locked with his and you guided him to your hair.

“...I…don’t wa….want…to hurt…you.”

Projecting from your mind you told him to relax and allow him to enjoy himself and that if he was hurting you, you would let him know. Conceding, you felt his fingers sink into your hair at the base of your head. He started slowly guiding your bobbing head over his cock.

Sinking lower, you kept pumping his member with your hand while you started playing and sucking on his balls. The sounds coming from your lover as he tugged on your hair were making you wet all over again.

After some time you slowly rose and focused on just the tip. It was leaking and swollen.

Laying your tongue flat against the underside of him, you slowly took all of him in so that he hit the back of your throat. You heard him curse into a moan as you started deep throating him,

As you sucked your lips around his member, nearly gagging on his size and girth, you felt him pull you up to his level. Seating you in his lap, he huffed out a chuckle. “Keep that up darling and there won’t be much fun left for either of us to enjoy.”

Smiling darkly, you leaned forward and nuzzled your nose with his. “We wouldn’t want that now, would we?

“No, we would not.” He mumbled as he started kissing you, he guided your hips towards his member.

Without breaking the kiss, you held his still hard and leaking member up to the entrance of your core.

“Darling, I need to be inside of you.” Obi-Wan huffed as locked his lips with yours.

Lowering your his, you slowly sank onto his member. Bottoming out, you threw your arms around him as he deepened the kiss.

Feeling his thick member within your tight, warm, silky walls, you ignored the sting as you adjusted to him. Through your bond in the Force, he could feel the pressure you felt and the sting his member caused you. His hands moved to your hips and started soothing them. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You planted a kiss on his forehead. This man was so patient, so caring with you. It floored you that despite the intense need and passion he felt, he didn’t push or rush you and you loved him even more for it.

Tightening your grip on his shoulder, raised yourself up till his cock was almost at your entrance, only to sink slowly back down again.

“Oh gosh.” You huffed as you raised yourself again, his hands keeping you steady.

“Yes, that’s it darling.”

Slowly you rose and fell on his hard member, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance. With every fall, you made sure to angle your hips so that his member stroked all the right spots inside your velvety walls, causing you both to moan.

Obi-Wan finally gave in as he grew impatient and grabbed your hips and started moving you up and down at a faster rhythm as he thrust his hips up into you at the same time.

Normally your lover was a patient man, willing and always wanting to take his time with you. However, the sheer need for you that rippled off of him through the Force and the way he forcibly thursted up into you, desperate for you both to find your releases….well, you were ashamed to say that his level of want turned you on.

Your moans were growing louder as you rode him

Leaning forward, he took one of your bouncing nipples into his mouth. The heat of his mouth mixed with the slight edge of his teeth that gently grazed your skin sent you wild. You threw your head back and held onto him tighter as you increased the roll of your hips and met him thrust for thrust.

“...Oh darling…” He whispered as he sat forward and drew his hands around the small of your back. “You look absolutely radiant like this….Such a good girl for me….”

He knew the effect his praise had on you, his beaming blue eyes with his pupils blown wide and his side smirk said at all as he watched you pleasure yourself on him.

The sight of him below you was one that you wanted to ingrain you forever. This gorgeous Jedi in just his tunic and that gorgeous robe that he used to shield you with, his auburn hair glistening in the afternoon sunlight that poured in through the windows of the council chamber. The feeling of his soft robes that pooled around your thighs and how it contrasted with the hardness of the chair. How his large hands that guided each of your thrusts and kept you steady felt; the combination of his calloused fingers from years of wielding a lightsaber mixed with the softness of his touch, his intentions were never to hurt only to love you and you knew that.

Through the Force, light, compassion, and love radiated from him as his cerulean eyes bore into yours. It sent what felt like a pool of lava coursing through your lower belly and forced your hands to tighten on his shoulders and your spongey, velvet wells to clench around him.

“Ahhhh….” Obi-Wan moaned as his eyes snapped to yours. “....Oooo….You’re close aren’t you sweetheart…”

“...Y….ye….yes.” You whined as he continued to slam into you.

Grabbing you and pulling you closer to him, he held you tightly to his chest, allowing you more access to hold onto him as he outright rammed himself into you.

Obi-Wan had made love to you before, but he wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to outright fuck you this time.

“..Ooo….bi…….Obi…..” You huffed and whined in his ear as you climbed higher and higher, closer to your release.

Turning, he planted a soft kiss on your cheek, an action that paled in comparison to the way he was heavily thrusting into you. “Let go for me sweet girl…..I’ve….I’ve got you, let go….”

The whispers in your ear came at the same time you felt his hand move between the two of you to your core. Heavy-handed, he started rubbing tight circles on your nub.

Burying your head into his robe-covered shoulder, you rode out the release of your high as you moaned into him.

All the while through it, he kept thrusting into you and pleasuring you while whispering words of praise and love.

Feeling almost disoriented, you were ready to limply slump against your Jedi when he whispered to you again. “Not yet beautiful….I am almost done, do you think you can hold on….for me?”

Tightening your grip on him, you started riding him again, your sensitive walls causing you to be louder than you wanted to, but it just felt so good that you didn’t care. You would do anything for him.

Neither did Obi-Wan. You couldn’t see it, but the smile that he wore at the sounds that were coming from you would have made you lose it all over again.

Gripping you tightly, Obi-Wan forcefully thrust a few more times into you until he couldn’t hold on anymore. With a whimper and whisper of your name, he thrust up into you and found his release.

Your moans and words of praise that you whispered to each other as you basked in the glow of your shared release was a tranquility that you treasured.

Lazily, kisses were exchanged as your ran your hands through his thick hair. His hands roamed all over your body; the smoothness of your back, the subtle flesh of your thighs and hips. How gently but firmly his hands glided across your skin as your tongues danced with another.

You didn’t want to part your lips from his but the overwhelming need to breathe burned in your lugs.

“Don’t go just yet…” Obi-Wan whispered as he held you too him.

You giggled. “...Obi…I feel like we’ve already pushed our luck….someone is bound to come and knock on that door eventually….You are supposed to give a council briefing from your mission….remember?”

He rolled his eyes, “Ugh...How could I froget….Espchically when I want nothing more than to hold you in my arms..”

“Mmmmhhhmm” you moaned as you nuzzled into him. “I would love that….but…,” you reluctantly pushed yourself up off him and stood up. “...we can do that AFTER you get this Council meeting over with…”

Obi-Wan’s cerulean eyes gleamed at you, full of mischief and love. He wiggled his eyebrows as he reached out and grabbed your hand. “We still have 20 minutes darling….”

“OBI!” You protested playfully.

As he pulled you ontop of him, you gave up, smiling in surrender as you kissed him. This man was incourageable when he had his mind set on something. You weren’t exactly opposed to it either, Obi would never let anyone catch you two…and you would be lying if said you hadn’t missed him too.

Pulling back from his kiss, you startled his hips again. “...Silly boy, once I get you back to my apartment…we have all night…”

@transcending-time @nanagoswife @sillynilly27 @thewhitedannimal @janebby @kirstenvldfan21 @the-clones-and-me @naughtyry

#Obi-Wan Kenobi #obi wan kenobi #obi wan #obi-wan #obi #obi wan fanfiction #obi-wan kenobi fanfic #obi-wan X reader #Obi-wan Kenobi X Reader #obi-wan smut #obi wan smut #smut

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dracowars · 9 months

Note

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

peaceful | obi-wan kenobi

pairing: obi-wan x jedi!reader

word count: 0,6k

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

a/n: enjoy <3

warnings: mentions of war

universe: star wars

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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thefact0rygirl · 2 years

Note

Edging Obi-Wan for the kinktober list?

red | obi-wan kenobi x sith!reader

Kinktober Day Seven: Edging

kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

Rating: Explicit 18+

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And, fuck, he really does.

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

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

Yeah, he fucking loves this.

kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

#obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi x you #obi-wan kenobi x y/n #obi-wan kenobi fanfic #obi wan kenobi x reader #kenobi x reader #kenobi fanfic #kinktober 2022 #kinktober 22 #thefactorygirlkinktober2022 #nsfios

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maes-flowers · 2 years

Text

For them, for us [Prologue] Obi-wan Kenobi x reader)

Authors note: Hi everyone! i'm starting a new series based off the new Obi-wan Kenobi show but I knew I wanted to give a sneak peek into what happened during the events of ROTS. Im super excited to write this story as its my first Star Wars fic and also my second work im posting here on tumblr. if you enjoy this chapter and want to see what happens next for these two comment down below to be added onto the taglist!

Next part!!

Warnings: angst, signs of Ptsd (survivors guilt), violence, sad reunions, and fluff

Word count: 7,405

Also I wrote this with I know the end by Phoebe Bridgers blasting in the background. 2:35 until the end inspired most of this fic and its devastating

You can't breathe, the air growing thick and catching in your lungs as you watch the complete massacre surround you. Padawans, younglings, masters and knights dead on the ground of the temple as clones, people you considered friends and family kill off any jedi in sight.

How did this happen? Things were okay, you were close to ending the war and moving on from the nightmare that has been the last three years.

So close to rest, only for it to slip away from your fear stricken hands as you fought off clones.

The few padawans you had saved were hidden away in a supply closet far away from the main grounds as you did a final sweep for survivors. The image of you, the only standing Jedi in a room with your brethren dead at your feet, had made you numb. The smell of seared flesh and balster residue made you nauseous as you covered your nose and mouth with your cloak.

You were supposed to be with Obi-wan Kenobi, a close companion on Utapau to help him fight General Grievous but was asked to stay back and look after the younglings as the rest of the council was busy dealing with chancellor Palpatine.

You weren't sure if the clone attack was planet wide, you hoped not for Obi-wan's sake, you knew Anakin was somewhere here, sensing his force signare only hours ago.

Your heart grieved for Obi-wan and Anakin, the two being the closest thing you had to family during the Clone wars. You had known Anakin since Obi-wan brought him to the temple after Qui-Gon Jinn died, leaving Obi-wan, a padawan at the time to train Anakin. The boy rumored to be the chosen one and to bring balance to the force. But you had known Obi-wan for longer than that, both of you becoming padawans at the same time as each other and growing close as the year went on and becoming a confidant for him as you adjusted to the new pressures and grief in his life.

But you couldn't think about them right now, you had to protect yourself as you gripped the hilt of your lightsaber. The indigo hue humming in your hand as you deflect blaster shots coming at you, the bright light going back to the clone and going through his head. You sprinted away from the mass crowd of clones making their way to you, avoiding corpses of people you once knew as you made your way back to the supply closest.

The adrenaline poured from every crevice of your body as you used the force to remove the statue blocking the door as you entered. The younglings looked at you in horror before they realized who you were, their small faces covered in scratches and bruises as you covered the door again. You slid down against the way and covered your mouth, holding back the stress and fear crashing over you as you held the small children.

“Rest small ones, I promise all will be over soon.” you whispered.

At least you hoped it would be.

It must've been hours before you felt safe enough to have your force signature out as you sensed the area around you. The force rippled around you and the safety you once felt within it was strained as if the loss from today managed to break its once strong walls of security. It was quiet now, the sounds of blasters and screams gone as you stood up, the younglings woke up as you looked around the area, clearing the area before you rushed the children out of the small room.You knew you had to get the younglings safe and out of here before you went off to look more into what happend. You guided the children around the temple until you ran into Cere Junda and her padawan Trilla.

You sighed in relief at the familiar friend, grasping her hand tightly when you grew closer.

“I'm so glad to see you safe Cere,” you said, your voice raw with emotion. “You as well Trilla,” you said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Glad to see you survive this nightmare as well.” Cere said.

You looked at her with desperation, your hands reaching behind you and guiding the three younglings in front of you.

“I need you to watch over these three, I need to go back to the main corridor and find more survivors and look at the security holocron footage.” you begged, almost collapsing in relief when Cere nodded.

“Of course, have you heard from General Kenobi?” she asked, her voice soft. The teasing she would make you endure about your relationship with him seemed like a distant memory now. You shook your head, your eyes prickling with emotion.

“No, not as of yet.” you said, ignoring the growing pit of pure fear at the thought of him being dead. You sighed and cleared your throat as you kneeled down in front of the younglings, their scared faces would haunt you for years.

“Listen,” you said sternly, “You listen to Master Cere okay?”

The small nods of obedience relaxed you a bit.

“Remember, when all seems to be lost trust only in the force.” you said, with that you stood up and began to walk away from the small group.

As you made your way back to the main hall, the number of bodys crowded at your feet made you shudder. You almost expected them to be gone for some reason, but seeing them right where they were before, unloved and pale as you avoided the haunted look at blank open eyes.

Hypervigilance pricked at your bones, you kept your body stiff as you listened for any sound or movement around you and although threat seemed to be gone, you would've done anything to have your armor you wore during battle in the war zone on you instead of the cloak and tunic you currently supported. The walk of avoiding bodys and making sure no one would come at you had made you slowly make your way into the main hall.

You could feel two life forces through the force, holding your breath as you crept forward, hand gripping your lightsaber tightly as you ducked behind a pillar. You paused for a moment and took a deep breath before you looked from your cover.

You went numb as you saw Obi-wan and Yoda a few feet away from you, this time you didn't hold back a shuddering breath as you clipped your saber onto your belt and stepped out, you walked as fast as you could.

“Obi-wan!” you shouted, the man's head snapped at his name and once he saw it was you, you could see relief overcome him.

“Y/n?”

You jogged as fast as you could while being respectful to the dead around you, Obi-wan met you halfway, the weight of his body collided with yours as you both clenched to each other, hands gripping to whatever they could grab. You never, ever would've done this in a place so open like the temple. Hugs like this were reserved for late night room visits in private, away from judging eyes.

One out of your two men were safe and alive, and that thought alone gave you hope that Anakin was okay.

“Thank the gods you're okay,” you cried, no longer caring about the code anymore. You didn't care about Master Yoda seeing the blatant show of compassion, of attachment and for once it seemed Obi-wan didn't care either.

You had a feeling, the council wasn't here to judge you anymore anyways.

“Are you okay?” he asked, you nodded into his shoulder and pulled away from him. His hand, calloused and rough rested on your face, making you look at him.

“I'm okay.” you whispered.

You held his gaze for a moment before you remembered Master Yoda, you pulled away from the grip Obi-wan held on you and kneeled

“Master Yoda, I'm so glad you made it out safely as well.” you said sincerely, putting a hand on top of his head.

“Glad to see you safe Master y/n, I am.”

You stood back up and looked at Obi-wan.

“There's a signal telling Jedi to come to the temple, we're going to the security station to ward off anyone else from showing up.” Obi-wan said.

You nodded and followed Yoda to the security room, you took the time to press your force signature into Obi-wan's, the familiar presence overcame you. The feeling of warmth and tenderness along with swirls of worry and pain grounded the fact that he was here and alive next to you.

You reached your hand out and grazed his, the small movement making him grasp yours.

“Anakin,” you said hesitantly. “Have you heard from him?” you whispered, Obi-wan shook his head and you felt a wave of fear roll over your from Obi-wan.

“He'll be okay, he's a strong kid.” you said softly. Obi-wan only nodded in response and stayed silent until you reached the security room.

It was odd seeing the room that usually had guards around be empty, and you hated the way you walked in with such ease as Obi-wan headed straight to the code receiver.

You watched as Obi-wan changed the code alerting all survivors to stay away, the blue light eliminating his face as he closed the signal box. A simple action that took a minute at most saving hundreds of lives.

“It will take a long time for the clones to notice the signal change.” you said quietly. Yoda nodded in agreement as Obi-wan emerged from the small doorway. Yoda began to leave the room, but you and Obi-wan stayed still eyeing the security device. After a moment you walked over to the security recording device, and turned it on, you felt Obi-wan come up behind you. His hand grasping your shoulder tightly.

“If you go into the security recordings you go, only pain will you find.” Yoda warned.

“I must know the truth master,” Obi-wan said as you reached forward and began to rewind the recording.

You stopped at the sight of Anakin, his saber drawn as he killed younglings in cold blood, you covered your mouth in horror at the sight.

“No.” you whispered in disbelief. “No it can't be true.” you said, your voice muffled from your hand. Your body unconsciously stepped back from the image as if it had burned you.

“It can't be, It can't be.” Obi-wan said in disbelief as the recording switched to Anakin kneeling in front of chancellor Palpatine, but from the sight he was in you realized quickly this was the sith lord Obi-wan had feared.

You watched as Anakin accepted his new title as Lord Vader before Obi-wan stopped the recording. You shook your head in disbelief, how did this happen?

“I can't watch anymore.” Obi-wan said, his voice shook slightly.

“Destroy the sith we must.” Yoda said gravely. Obi-wan released his grip on your shoulder as he stepped in front of you to talk to Yoda. you looked over in shock at Yoda's words, no shock or hesitation in voice.

“Send me to kill the emperor, I will not kill Anakin.” Obi-wan said sternly.

“To fight this lord Sidious strong enough you are not.”

“He is like my brother. I cannot do it.” Obi-wan pleaded, you watched silently, unsure on what to do.

“Twisted by the dark side young Skywalker has become.” Yoda sighed.” The boy you trained, gone he is.”

“I don't know why the emperor has sent him. I don't know where to look.” Obi-wan exclaimed.

Yoda walked away before he turned to look at him.

“Use your feelings Obi-wan and find him you will.” Yoda simply said before he left the room.

You looked over at Obi-wan, his face showed nothing but confusion and pain. You were sure your face showed the same feelings as you ignored the sick feeling in your gut as you came to a harsh realization.

“I was there,” you breathed out disgust with yourself, Obi-wan turned to you. “I was with the younglings when it all went down and I felt his presence in the temple hours before.” you looked at Obi-wan in distress grasping the tunic that laid across your chest, your voice breaking at the thought. “That means he was right next to me when he killed those..” you couldn't even finish the sentence. How did you not feel him so near?

“I could've done something, I could have stopped him from killing those childe-” you hitch a breath. “I should've read more into the force, not shut it away.” you scolded yourself, your hands finding your hair as you gripped the roots.

“Y/n,” Obi-wan said sadly, stepping forward and pulling your hands away from the death grip on the strands of hair. You looked up at Obi-wan as you as your face crumpled from grief. Grief from losing friends, fellow jedi, losing the younglings, and losing Anakin.

From failing from your duty.

“I failed them.” you gasped out as you were pulled into Obi-wan's embrace. You were being selfish and you knew it, but you needed one moment. Just one of pure sorrow and hopelessness, you couldn't hold onto these feelings or else you'd drown in them.

“You protected yourself, and I know you saved as many people as you could. You were outmatched, we all were.” Obi-wan comforted. “You did your best and that's all that you can do.”

Your arms were under his, your hand curling and gripping Obi-wan's back and taking a deep breath. Your thoughts slowed to a more productive mindset as you nodded against him, you pulled away, wiping away your tears.

“We need to go see Padme,” you said, in determination.

Obi-wan Nodded.

“I agree.”

~~~~~~~

Anakin never said anything explicit about his and Padme's relationship, but you as well as Obi-wan had your suspicions about the two over the last few years. The closest you could get to a confession was making fun of him seeing her and he would grow red in his face which would result in a halfhearted insult about you and Obi-wan or when you joined Padme to Senate meetings and would integrate her, watching any reaction she made.

She never let anything show, beside a light smile.

You paused your movement in the hallway leading up to Padme's corridors, a thought coming into your head as Obi-wan turned to you.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Do we tell her about what he did?” you asked, you didn't want to hurt her that was never your goal but if anyone knew where Anakin would be, it would be her.

Obi-wan stroked his beard before he nodded.

“If the need shows, but I suspect she will find out either way.” he said in thought.

You nodded in agreement before you continued on walking.

Padme's room was far more beautiful than your tiny room in the temple. Compliments of tan, white, red, and gold decorated the room. The large balcony allowed a soft breeze in, the weather was far too beautiful for this situation.

“When was the last time you saw him?” you asked, walking aside Padme. Her face was scrunched in worry but her eyes fluttered around nervously. She knew where he was, you just know it.

“Yesterday.” she said.

“And do you know where he is now?” Obi-wan pressed.

She paused for a moment, the walking stopping in the small circle in the center of her couches.

“No,” she sighed.

“We need your help.” Obi-wan confessed, his voice bordering on begging.

“Padme,” you said, touching her arm. “He is in grave danger.”

Padme spun around, her face pale.

“From the sith?!” she gasped, you and Obi-wan shook your heads.

“From himself,” you said softly, “Anakin has turned to the darkside.”

Padme scoffed in disbelief as she looked at you in shock.

“You're wrong, How could you even say that?”

You and Obi-wan looked at each other, the pain of even saying what Anakin has done hurt too much.

“We have seen a-a security hologram…” Obi-wan started. “Of him killing younglings.” he finished, his face taut with an emotion You couldn't quite place.

“Not Anakin,” Padme denied. “He couldn't.”

You looked at her sadly.

“He was deceived by a lie. We all were.” you crossed your arms. “It appears that the chancellor is behind everything, including the war. Palpatine is the sith lord we've been looking for.” you explained, your heart hurt more and more as you watched Padme’s face fall.

“Anakin became his apprentice after Count Dooku died.” Obi-wan added

Padme stumbled backward until she was sitting on the couch, her face calm but also in shock as she started ahead.

“I don't believe you,” she said. “I cant.” she whispered.

You and Obi-wan moved to sit on either side of her, you gripped her hand tight as you looked at her.

“Padme, we must find him.” Obi-wan said. She looked between the both of you, her brows furrowed as she leaned back.

“You're going to kill him, aren't you?”

You looked down at your lap, ignoring her gaze.

“He's become a great threat.” Obi-wan warned, you kept your eyes down.

“I cant.”

You watched her grip her stomach, swollen and large. You Had only recently become aware of her pregnancy, your reaction was nothing but joy when she told you but seeing her in denial and shock as she cradled her bump made something click in your mind at her reaction. You watched Obi-wan sigh and stand up, but you sat still as you stared at her. Eyes solemn but knowing as you leaned back.

“Anakin is the father, isn't he?” you asked, Padme looked at you for a moment before she looked away, you could see tears building in her eyes. You close your eyes at the confirmation, standing up and kissing her head, you're watching two people you viewed as family lives become destroyed in a matter of a few hours.

“I'm so sorry.” you whispered, voice broken as you walked away, following Obi-wan to the ship. He climbed into the passenger before he held a hand out to you, helping you into the passenger.

You watched as the top came down over your head as Obi-wan flew away, you stared at the window watching other ships and speeders fly around you.

“That poor baby,” you sighed, rubbing at your eyes for a moment. “Padme is going to go after him, you know that right?” you said looking at Obi-wan. He kept his gaze on the traffic as he took a sharp turn.

“I know, that's why we're going with her,” he said.

~~~~

When he said you would be going with her you went expecting having to crouch behind a supply crate and wait until Padme went into the ship, and the flight crew left the landing strip. You followed after Obi-wan, pulling your hood over your head as you snuck onto the ship. It was a large ship, but open enough if both the droids were not up front with Padme, they would see us and alert her of our presence.

Obi-wan opened the door to a closet and you both climbed in, the room was small but if you slid yourself between Obi-wan and leaned against his chest you guys were able to sit on the floor.

He sighed, and you knew his exhaustion came from the overwhelming emotions, the fight he had with Grievous and the crushing fear of what he had to do next.

You grabbed his hands and wrapped him around your middle, he sighed at the comfort and rested his head against your shoulder. You gripped his hand tightly, to make sure he wouldn't disappear.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered.

“For what?” he asked, confused.

“You don't deserve this, Obi-wan,” you said. “It's not fair.”

Obi-wan stayed silent for a moment.

“I don't know if I can do this,” he admitted. “He's my brother, Y/n”

“Let me help you, us two going against Anakin would be better than just you. It's better than going in there alone.” you proposed.

“No,” he said immediately, his hand reaching up and cupping your jaw to lean back so you look him in the eyes. “I've lost enough today, I can't lose you too.” he said, you could feel his breath on your face.

“I can't lose you either.” you said, with the same amount of seriousness. “Let me help,” you begged.

“I have to do this on my own,” Obi-wan said. You went to argue but he shook his head.

“Stay on the ship, stay with Padme if anything goes wrong.”

You opened your mouth to argue but a small flash of light illuminated Obi-wan's face and you could see the pure desperation on his features.

“Okay,” you gave in. “Just come home, you have to promise me to come home.” you said.

Obi-wan looked at you, his face soft as he agreed, he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss on your lips for a few moments before pulling away.

You smiled, a bittersweet feeling swirling in you happily, after years of soft touches and hugs and knowing the feeling was there but never acting on it in fear of the council you got to kiss him, but in pain as this could very well be the first and last time you get to do it.

You and Obi-wan sat together in silence for the rest of the trip, you wanted to tell him everything you've been holding back for the last 12 years but you couldn't find the words so you relied on using the force and pushing your force signature on him. Using silent communication to express the admiration you had.

Obi-wan gripped you tightly as he embraced the feelings from you, his voice shuddering a breath deep from his chest.

“Me too love, me too.” he said quietly, as soon as the words spilled from his lips you felt the ship hit solid land. You squeezed your eyes shut as you raised Obi-wan's hand to your mouth, pressing a long kiss to it. Your fears and doubts bubbling over as you and Obi-wan crawled out of the closet, and kept close to the wall. Staying out of Padme's sight until you heard the hatch of the ship go down and saw her leave.

You and obi-wan moved closer so you can see them outside. The heat of this planet was unbearable already. The heat makes you sweat under your tunic as you watch the couple reunite.

You listened to Padme beg Anakin to leave, to go raise their child. but Anakin refused, saying his powers were the only way he could save Padme and together they could kill the chancellor and rule the galaxy together.

God, the sight made you uncomfortable as you watched Anakin Skywalker fade away in front of your eyes as he shed the skin of his former self revealing a power hungry psychopath.

You watched Padme back away in fear and you stepped forward, moving onto the ramp leading outside. You could hear Obi-wan curse before he followed you, but it didn't take long for Anakin to spot the two of you.

“I love you!” Padme begged, but Anakin's face contorted with rage.

“Liar!” he screamed, Padme gasped and looked behind her to see the two of you.

“No!” Padme shouted.

You and Obi-wan began to walk down the ramp, going slowly to try not to provoke Anakin anymore.

“You're with them!” Anakin shouted. “You brought them here to kill me.” he accused, raising his hand in front of him. You watched with shock as he began to force choke her, her feet lifting off the ground.

“Let her go, Anakin.” Obi-wan demanded, quickly descending down the stairs. You followed quickly behind him.

“Let her go!” you shouted. Anakin looked at you for a moment before releasing his grip on her, you shot forward and used the force to lay her on the ground so the baby wouldn't get harmed from the fall. You dropped to your knees and dragged her head into your lap, your hands fumbling for a pulse.

You sighed in relaise under the fluttering pulse under your fingertips.

“You turned her against me!” Anakin blamed, but obi-wan stood still and was calm. His anger wasn't like Anakins, his was a controlled storm, while the man across from him swirled like it destroyed everything in his path.

“You have done that yourself.” Obi-wan said, watching as Anakin shed away his cloak as he paced around. The only way you can describe Anakin's body language was feral and dangerous.

“You will not take her from me!”

“Your anger and lust for power have already done that.” Obi-wan shrugged off his cloak and began to walk around Anakin. You slowly reached for the lightsaber in your hand and unclipped it from your belt in case Anakin or Obi-wan got to close with their quickly approaching battle.

“You have allowed this dark lord to twist your mind, until now you have become the very thing you swore to destroy.

“Don't lecture me Obi-wan.” Anakin warned. “I see through the lies of the Jedi, I do not fear the darkside as you do.” Anakin turned as he spoke and Obi-wan kneeled down and touched Padme's face. He looked at you, and you nodded back a silent gesture of saying the two of you were okay.

“I have brought peace, freedom, justice and security to my new empire!” Anakin announced as Obi-wan stood up. The two of you looked at him in shock at his words.

“You're a new empire?” Obi-wan asked in disbelief.

“Don't make me kill you.” Anakin warned.

“Anakin, our allegiance is to the republic, to democracy!” Obi-wan shouted.

“Anakin, we're not trying to be against you! But you're being irrational right now! We just want you safe! Padme wants you safe!” you explained. “Going down this path will do more harm than good, I know deep down you see that!” you begged, watching Anakin turn back to the two of you. “Look at what you're doing! Look at what you're doing to your wife and child, what you're doing to Obi-wan, to me. If We will not stand by your side and watch you destroy everything you cared about!” you spat, anger heavy on your tongue,

“If you're not with me, then you're my enemy.” he said, raising his hand again. You felt a tight pressure around your neck as you gasped, you glared at him as you quickly put up the mental barrier from Anakin. He dropped you after a moment, your hand coming up to your neck as you felt the blood rush under and feeling a bruise begin to form.

“Only a Sith deals in absolutes.” Obi-wan said, dread and anger lacing in his voice. “I will do as I must.”

The sound of lightsabers activating made you scoot yourself and Padme to a safer distance. Obi-wan stood tall with his saber at his side. The blue hue makes a stark contrast compared to the red and orange surroundings.

“You will try.” Anakin said, turning on his lightsaber.

The fight started before you could even blink, the two blue sabers clash against each other as they slowly backed away from you, moving into the building.

You took the chance to quickly pick up Padme and run her back into the ship, you quickly place Padme in the medbay before you run out to the head of the ship.

“C-3PO, please go watch over Padme.” you asked, as you quickly grabbed the coms and input the code to a former senator you once guarded and a friend of Padme and the Jedi as a whole.

“Senator Organa?” you called out, as you searched for a pair of Macrobinalurs. “Bail? This is Master y/n please make contact.” you said, as you pulled open a hatch and found a pair of macrobinoculars. You hovered it over your eyes and you could see a huge explosion of lava and part of the metal rig melt off into the river of lava you zoomed in closer as you saw flicks of blue. You swallowed back bile at the sight of the two men in such danger.

You heard the hologram crackle before Senator Organa appeared in front of you.

“Master y/n? Are you still there?” Bail called out, you looked away from the scene playing in front of you and looked at the hologram.

“Bail, you're the only person I can trust right now, and I know you're friends with Padme. Anakin Skywalker has turned to the darkside and choked her, she's still alive but…” you paused for a moment. “Something is off and I need to get her medical attention.”

“I'm in the outer rim, on a planet called Polis Massa. We have Master Yoda here as well and will be safe for you to come too, I'll send you the coordinates.” he said,

“Thank you, I'm waiting for Master Kenobi to finish his confrontation with Skywalker but we will be there as soon as we can.” You said, you turned off the comm before he could reply as you lifted the binoculars to your eyes again, but quickly cursed once you saw that both of the men were too far away from your sight.

You brought your knees to your chest on the pilot chair as you stared out the window, you wished you pushed harder to go fight Anakin with him, providing back up so Anakin didn't shove him in lava or stab him in the chest.

Anger was the emotion you were expecting the least as you waited for Obi-wan, you were angry over someone trying to kill you, losing fellow jedi, losing Anakin, and possibly Obi-wan now. You tried to meditate to relieve yourself from the simmering anger, you were scared now if you were being honest, Anakin fell so quickly to the dark side. You were afraid if you even acknowledged the emotions you felt now you would suddenly become a sith.

“Trust in the force.” you murmed to yourself, then embraced the feeling. You knew the force wouldn't hurt you, being intune with it since you were a child it felt like home after a long mission, it felt safe.

And that was all you can ask for at this time.

An hour had passed since then, if Obi-wan had died you aren't sure how long you would wait before you left, the thought alone had made you stand up and walk down the ramp. You knew Obi-wan's cloak was still on the ground and all you wanted was to hold something of him. Your own cloak was off including your tunic, the heat was insufferable but when you see the brown fabric rumpled on the ramp you slid it on without a second thought.

You crossed your arms over each other as you watched the lava down below, the hissing of magma was the sound you heard for a long time.

Until, you his R2-D2 beep excitedly, you turned around quickly and froze.

Obi-wan appeared from the hall, covered soot and clothes filled with burn holes, but he seemed rather unharmed. He froze when he saw you standing there, his eyes tired and bloodshot.

“Anakin..is he..?” you asked quietly, Obi-wan looked down and you saw his body began to shake. You ran forward and slammed your bodys together, both of you gripping each other like a lifeline. You could feel tears drip down your neck from where Obi-wan had burrowed his face. Your face tucked into the crook of his neck, positive your tears were dripping onto him. Your hand sprawled over the expanse of his back while his hand was embedded in your hair. You would do anything to forget how hard his hands trembled that moment.

Your heart ached for Anakin, for the boy you saw as a brother or even a son but your heart also ached for Padme and Obi-wan.

“Are you injured?” you asked, your voice cracking as you placed a gentle hand on his face. The hair of his beard tickles the skin of your fingers as you turn his face at different angles searching for damage.

“No, I'm okay.” he murmured, his blue orbs scanning over you as well. You pushed the sweat slicked hair away from his eyes so he can see better. His eyes landed on the dark bruise on your neck, his hand came to graze over the abused skin.

“Master y/n, Master Kenobi.” C-3PO called out from the ramp, you turned around as looked at the droid. “Let's hurry and leave this dreadful place.”

You and Obi-wan walked onboard the ship, R2D2 following closely behind as the ramp closed behind you. You walked Obi-wan to where Padme was, leaning on the door frame as you watched him put a gentle hand on her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open and looked up at him.

“Obi-wan? Is Anakin alright?”

He placed his hand on her cheek as her eyes closed again, he looked over at you in worry.

“I contacted Senator Organa while you were gone, he's on Polis Massa with Yoda. we're going to take her there for a check up and to figure out what we're doing next.” you explained, holding out your hand. He sighed as he grabbed your hand, allowing you to guide him to the passenger seat as you planted yourself into the pilot seat, flicking on controls and imputing the coordinates you were sent, eager to leave this planet as fast as you can.

As you flew the ship out of the atmosphere you could see Obi-wan cover his face, you frowned before you went into hyperdrive, allowing the plane to do the work for a moment. You turned the chair you were in until it looked at the tired man head on.

“What happened out there?” you asked, although you didn't want to know. But knowing Obi-wan, he would let this sit for years and you couldn't let that happen.

“I-” he began before he sighed, looking over to you.

You were confused on why he went silent before you flinched back in your seat, visions of fire and lava flashing in your eyes, you saw Anakin and Obi-wan fighting on the river as clashes of lightsabers echoed in your ears. the vision shifted to seeing Anakin's legs getting cut off and his screams of pain rattled in your brain.

“I Hate you!” Anakin bellowed, Obi-wan's face was twisted in anguish.

“You were my brother Anakin, I loved you!”

The last thing you saw before Obi-wan cut off the connection was Anakin's body burning alive as he kneeled down and grabbed his little brother's lightsaber.

Once the vision was gone you let out the breath you were holding as you looked back at obi-wan, you hand shot forward and gripped his tight to ground yourself to the present.

“I'm sorry,” he apologized. “I just couldn't say the words.”

“No” you said after a minute of calming down. “Don't apologize, you didn't do anything wrong. It's just startling to see.” you swallowed before you spoke again. “You kept his lightsaber?”

Obi-wan nodded before pulling out the weapon and carefully handing it to you, your fingers grazed the handle and just held it for a moment before giving it back to Obi-wan.

A beeping made you jump, realizing you made it to your destination, you looked over at C3-PO and asked him to land the ship.

You stood up and walked to the small area you had taken off your tunic earlier, you grabbed the dark brown tunic and slid it on. Your hand wrapping and tying the material quickly after years of practice before you went back to meet up with Obi-wan.

You let Obi-wan grab Padme as you walk down the ramp greeting Bail, obi-wan close behind you as the senator leads you to the medical center.

~~~~~

You, Obi-wan, Yoda, bail, C3-PO, and R2D2, watched Padme's unconscious form as the medical droid scanned her. Your hand gripping Obi-wan's hand as you watched in silence. It only took the droids a few minutes before one appeared from the door.

“Medically, she's completely healthy.” the droid said, you sighed in relief. “But for reasons we can't explain, we are losing her.” He finished, you looked at him in shock.

“She's dying?” Obi-wan said in shock.

“We don't know why, she has lost the will to live and we need to operate quickly if we are to save the babies.”

You and obi-wan halted at that, your grip in his hand going loose as you looked at the droid in surprise.

“Babies?” you said.

“She's carrying twins.” the droid confirmed.

Obi-wan moved away from your touch as he moved closer to the glass pane, watching padme closely as he stroked his beard. A habit youve seen from him many times in the last few years.

So you waited until she woke up, you and Obi-wan rushing into the room and joining her on each side of Padme's head. Her sobbing and whimpering echoed around the room, the sound making you wince as the first baby was delivered. The sound of a baby crying quickly filled the air as the baby was handed off to Obi-wan, who held the baby with such care as he leaned down and showed his face to his mother.

“Luke.” she said softly, her voice weak and quiet for a few moments before she grunted, her voice horse from screams. You watched as tears pooled in the corner of her eyes. Reaching forward you dabbed away the tears.

“You got this Padme, just keep breathing.” you murmured, your voice soft as she gripped your hand. The sound of the second baby's cries appeared once more as the robot said something you didn't understand.

“It's a girl.” Obi-wan announced as the droid handed you the little girl, you kneeled down and showed her face to the woman.

“Leia” Padme sighed.

You smiled at the name.

“It's beautiful, both of them are.” you said.

Padme began to breathe heavily, as if she was struggling to get air into her lungs. You and obi-wan shared a concerned glance.

“Obi-wan, y/n?” Padme gasped and you nodded, shifting Leia into one arm as you grabbed her hand again.

“There's good in him…I know-I know there's still-” Padme started out before she stopped talking and the hand in your hand went limp. Your teeth clamped down on your lip as tears welled in your eyes once again and as if the two small babies in you and obi-wans arms knew, they both began to cry.

~~~~~~

Inside one of the meeting rooms of Building in Naboo. You, Obi-wan, Bail, and Yoda sat at a large table. You had your arms crossed tightly around your body as you sat next to Obi-wan, his hand rested on his chin as he stared blankly at the table in front of him.

“Hidden, safe the children must be kept.” Yoda said solemnly.

“We must take them somewhere where the sith won't sense their presence.” Obi-wan said.

Yoda hummed in thought.

“Split up, they should be.” Yoda decided.

You looked up, about to open your mouth to protest but it quickly died on your tongue. Keeping them together would give away more attention. and if one of them ends up to be force sensitive it would make matters worse.

“My wife and I will take the girl,” Basil said, “We've always talked about adopting a baby girl.” he said, a soft simile spreading on his face. “She will be loved with us.”

“And what of the boy?” you asked, yoda turned to you.

“To tatooine. His family send him.” Yoda said.

Obi-wan was silent for a moment before he spoke.

“I will take the child and watch over him.”

You looked over in shock, slightly offended at him leaving you out.

“No,” you said sternly. All three men looked at you. “We,” you said with emphasis. “We will take the child and watch over him.” you said, avoiding Obi-wan's gaze.

Yoda just nodded.

“Until the time is right, disappear we will.” he said as you all stood up and bowed.

You walked out, only stopping for a moment when Yoda called to Obi-wan to hang back. Giving them their space you waited out in the hall, you kept your eyes on the floor until you saw Basil walk out, with baby Leia in his arms.

He walked up to you and gave you a kind smile.

“Can I?” you asked, pointing to the baby. Basil chuckled and placed the baby in your arms.

You stared into her eyes as she gurgled and cooed at you and you let out a wet laugh.

“It's disturbing how much you look like your mother already little one,” you said softly, your hand rubbing at the soft skin of her head. “You are going to a great family, but I need you to promise one thing.” you whispered to the baby, not noticing Obi-wan step out of the room.

“Be kind and intelligent like your mother,” you said, your voice getting choked up. “And be loyal and passionate like your father was.”

“And most importantly,” you whispered into her ear. “Never be apologetic for who you are, wear your flaws and strengths with pride.”

You didnt care what anyone told you, after everything you've been through with Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala, those two little kids freshly embraced by the world will always be your niece and nephew in your heart.

You kissed Leia's head before you handed her back to Bail, wiping your tears away as you looked at the senator.

“Safe travels, senator Organa.” you said softly, holding out your hand. Bail smiled and gripped your hand tight and shook it.

“You as well, Master.” he said before he turned to Obi-wan who simply shook his hand. You leaned back against the wall as Obi-wan looked at you. You didn't lean away when he raised his hand to wipe away the wetness on your cheeks,

“Why are you coming with me? You don't deserve a life like that.” he said, concern and guilt evident in his voice

“Either way Obi-wan, I'm going to be hunted,” you said bluntly. “I'm doing it for those two babies so they are safe from the empire, but i'm doing it for us too so we can be together because we deserve each other.” you whispered hoarsely, your brows furrowed as you placed a hand on his chest. “I don't care where it takes me, I'll be okay as long as we do it together.”

Obi-wan watched you with soft eyes before he nodded.

“For them.” Obi-wan said, placing a hand over the one you rested on his chest.

You squeezed his hand tightly.

“For us.” you smiled sadly.

~~~~~~~

The heat on Tatooine was much better compared to Mustafar but it still had you sweating under your robes as you watched the sunset in front of you. The two suns give the dry earth around you a pink hue as Obi-wan gave baby Luke to Owen and Beru Lars.

You watched the younger woman gently cradle Luke as she ran over to her husband, the two of them admiring the sunset and their new family member.

Obi-wan turned to look from where you sat on the Eopie, he looked naked with the lightsaber he used for so long no longer strapped to his side. Your hand grazed your own side and longed for your own saber as well. You and Obi-wan decided to bury your lightsabers in the sand with Anakins, a sad symbol of the end of a life you once knew.

You knew deep down a lightsaber didn't determine if you were a Jedi or not, you knew you were and Your trust in the force and the light side would guide you along the way.

Cold metal resting on your finger reminded you of a new symbol, of something new and safe as Obi-wan grabbed your hand. You smiled at the ring on his hand pressing into your wrist as you hauled him up on the large animal.

Exile did suck but knowing you were with someone you loved made the sacrifices tolerable

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agirlunderarock · 1 year

Text

OF AGONY AND HOPE

Story Summary: sith!Obi-Wan au, in which Sas was able to fly Padme to safety and deliver her children but at the cost of losing the man she loved. Five years have gone by since the fall of Republic, since the fall of the Jedi Order, since Sas said goodbye to the man she loves. Since then Emperor Palpatine has brought in new enforcers; Lord Vader his right hand, and Grand Admiral Abusivus a man Sas refuses to admit bares any resemblance to Obi-Wan Kenobi even when he stands right in front of her.

Pairings: Obi-Wan X Sas Vom (OC)

Chapter 3: Proposals

Chapter Summary: Sas is called into Grand Admiral Abusivus' office

Previous Chapter

Warnings: N/A Honestly its not violent or anything yet so like? Just know the general warning is that I fell asleep while typing this several times. I live and die by those typos. This story is basically lovers to enemies to lovers so make of that what you will?

Read on AO3

The Meeting room was too loud.

Despite the quiet murmurs of the Imperial Officers in the room, Brisa felt as if they were all shouting in her ears, looking at her assessing her. Under normal circumstances she could tune it out, ignore them, carry her head high and walk out without sparing anyone a single glance.

Her heart beat was too loud.

She didn’t register when the switch happened, only that she felt far away from the room itself. There was too much going on. Grand Admiral Abusivus was giving her directions, that much she was aware of. What those directions were specifically she couldn’t say. The pounding of her heart beat was slowly replaced by officers slowly filing out of the room, their footfalls echoing off the sleek walls of the war room like cannon blasts going off in Brisa’s ears. The lights were too bright. Harsh glares reflected off every surface straight into her eyes. Even Captain Dirgo’s pointed stare seemed to carry the weight of the cold reflective surfaces that lined the doorway.

Sas didn’t remember following Grand Admiral Abusivus. Her world stopped spinning the moment her eyes met his burning yellow irises. Yet, she noted the way the Grand Admiral walked just a step ahead of her, his broad shoulders blocking most of her view of the hallway. In the back of her mind she could hear the faint echo of his words, “We best discuss the expectations for your position in my office.”

Was that where he was leading her? Sas couldn’t even be sure he had really even said those words. The back of her hand still burned with the warmth of his breath, but if she were being honest Sas couldn’t say whether or not she wanted to put the fire out.

Be mindful of your feelings, they can betray you.

Sas could hear Obi-Wan’s voice echo in her head, and despite the warmth in her chest at the memory of all the times he had said that to Anakin, she felt fear crawl its way into her throat. She couldn’t focus, the world still spun, but felt as if she were flying through a dust cloud. She couldn’t trust her own thoughts, her feelings. The Grand Admiral could and would manipulate them, if he hadn’t already. He knew the easiest ways to access her mind, he knew every feeling, thought and desire she had.

The sudden realization that she was about to be captured, questioned and tortured, had Sas’ stomach churning. She had to get to her apartment, she had to get a message out, call for an extraction.

“At ease Captain Brisa,” The Grand Admiral’s command pierced the fog. Sas blinked as her body automatically relaxed its stance, feet shoulder width apart and her hands behind her back. "I assume you understand why I've brought you here," he finished.

Truthfully Sas was trying to figure out what was more disturbing to her, that her body didn't hesitate to act on his command, or the way he didn’t tear his gaze away from her. She hadn't even fully processed that she was standing in his office. Whatever challenge he had issued her and whatever composure she had mustered up in the presence of her fellow officers, dissipated in the cold tension between them now.

Sas slowly scanned his office. Of course it was pristine and organized. She expected nothing less. She was, however, surprised by the amount of objects on display. Not that he wasn't sentimental in the past, but each object was placed purposely, deliberately within view of her standing position, not the person who would normally be sitting at the desk. These objects weren't just for decoration, he was sending a message. A small statue of a Twi'lek seemed to glare at her from its pedestal in front of a large painting of a familiar Alderaan mountain pass. The statue bared a striking resemblance to one she had seen in the home of Eleni Syndulla, during a rather melancholy feast. It looked over them while they celebrated a Republic victory on Ryloth. Sas couldn’t force herself to focus on the painting behind it. She tried to focus on the other side of the room. In front of another painting, stood a sculpture of a four legged beast of burden that was native to Onderon. The same kind of creature she and Obi-Wan had ridden into the Separatist filled city with Steela and her freedom fighters. Something twisted painfully in her chest.

“Forgive me,” Brisa answered, her voice sounding much weaker than normal. “I assumed we were going to discuss my expectations for my new assignment.”

“Most of your duties are outlined in the entry log-” He paused abruptly, looking right through Sas before his eyes settled on her again. “But you’re already well aware of those duties aren’t you?” Abusivus moved to stand in front of his desk, right in Sas’ line of sight. He absolutely knew who he was speaking to. There was no way around it.

“Sir, I’m not sure I understand-”

“You need not continue your act,” he said calmly, though Sas could easily detect the tension in his voice. “No one else is listening right now.” Five years apart and he could still read her without trying. Then again, she supposed that it was easy to read her when he had the ability to directly feel what she was feeling and could purposely tamper with her thoughts and emotions. That was the only way to explain the black hole that erupted in her chest. She felt heavy and empty all at the same time, like she would fall right through the glossy white floors, the rest of her memories and feelings drawn into her void.

Sas kept her eyes focused on the portview behind him, just over his shoulder. It was the only way she could look at him without having to actually look at him. She heard him breathe out slowly, his shoulders tensing and then falling ever so slightly, as if he were gripping something. If she had the nerve to look up at his face she was sure she’d find his auburn brows furrowed low over his eyes. She tried not to picture the expression, yet the memories of all the times she pressed her lips to his forehead, just between his brows, came rushing back to her.

She couldn’t trust those memories.

Sas was very aware of how he could manipulate her thoughts. Even though she didn’t feel the odd pressure around her head that came when someone was attempting to manipulate her through the force, she couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t. He knew her mind better than anyone, possibly even more than her own sister. At one time she had trusted him with her life, her dreams, and her secrets. She trusted him to love her as she was, to accept her past, and understand what she expected in their future. There was absolutely nothing she could hide from him. She needed to look elsewhere.

Everywhere she looked was a reminder of their shared past, of how he'd thrown everything they fought for away. Even if he wasn’t using the force, Abusivus was finding other ways to manipulate her.

Sas’ eyes burned with unshed tears, and her throat closed. She couldn’t breathe. If she had been a weaker woman, she might have fallen to her knees, even clutched at her aching chest. Sas didn’t understand how her chest could feel so hollow and yet feel so tight. She couldn’t tell if this was her own body betraying her or if this was his doing. “Sir-” She croaked. Even to herself her voice sounded brittle and weak. She couldn’t break in front of him. Abusivus could undoubtedly feel what she was going through, she couldn’t let herself be so openly vulnerable with him.

The Grand Admiral moved to stand directly in front of her, his shoulders and the hot tears stinging her eyes obscuring her view. He hadn’t touched her, not even with the force, and yet the fire that burned under her skin and caught in her throat was his doing. He betrayed her, their friends, and their family.

“Why did you bring me here?” Sas demanded in a whisper. She kept her hands clasped together behind her back, worried that her hands would shake, that her whole body would tremble if she wasn’t careful. “Just tell me what you want and get this over with.”

“Sas,” his voice was soft, just as quiet as her own as he stepped closer to her.

A blaster shot to the chest would have burned less. This wasn’t the voice of the man who addressed the Imperial officers just a few moments before. This was the voice that whispered to her in stolen moments between missions. This was the voice that teased her behind closed doors, told her she was loved, that she was worth more than what she could provide to others. This was the voice that comforted her in dreams, and she missed more than anything in the galaxy. A voice she thought she’d never hear say her name again.

His gloved hand reached out to her cheek, gently brushing away her tears. “I thought you were dead…” His other hand came up and cupped her cheek, before he leaned down to press his lips to her forehead.

Every fiber in Sas’ body screamed at her to push him away. That this man helped the Empire conquer the people they swore to protect, and yet she could only stand frozen in place. Her heart hammered quickly in her chest. The familiar feel of his breath dancing over her skin sent a tremor through her body. The tickle of his beard against her forehead was enough to make her eyes slide close. For five years they'd been apart, grown into different people and yet this simple action sent her right back to the quiet nights they spent on her ship.The back of her hand, the one he kissed just moments before, still felt heavy with the weight of his kiss.

Sas had thought the black hole had been in her chest, that every memory she’d had of him was being dragged in to try to fill its void. With his admission, she realized that he was the point of gravity in the room. No matter how many reminders screamed at her to wake up to reality. She should be angry, had every right to shove him away but instead she found the ache in her chest soothed by his closeness. She could pretend that this was just another quiet night on her ship. That he had been away on a long mission and was tiredly pressing kisses to her head. As always he would be hesitant to hold her, but he would hold her, assure her that he was safe. She could pretend that they never lost each other, that they didn’t lose so much more. All she had to do was keep her eyes closed.

Gradually her body relaxed and her arms fell to her sides. If these were going to be her last moments, Sas almost wanted to just let herself enjoy his touch. She could pretend that he was the man she loved. Just one last stolen moment before it all came crashing down. After all that was how they loved each other best, when the galaxy was collapsing around them. What made this time so different?

Be mindful of your feelings, they can betray you.

Sas took a deep breath. Those thoughts could not be her own. As tired of the fight and hiding as she was, Sas could not give in to those feelings she had. She had to get back home call for an extraction. That had to be her priority. Her thoughts and feelings were not her own while the Grand Admiral was around.

Slowly opening her eyes, Sas moved her head a little away from him and looked up at him expecting to see the burning amber eyes of the man in the meeting room, but instead she only found relief relaxing his face and closing his eyes. Again she could feel her resolve slipping, and again she recalled the memory of the times she and Obi-Wan would meditate together. Some of the jedi teachings were starting to make a lot more sense to her. She had to let go of those memories, and the ache in her chest. She took another deep breath. Abusivus may look like the man she loved, but that man never escaped Mustafar; he died there, and there was no going back.

She forced herself to look away.

Behind him, on the desk, was a large piece of stone propped up on a display frame, a familiar swirl etched into its surface. It was one of the crests from the Mobari temples on Zolan, from her home. The red stony clay marked the stone as not from the temple in the capital city, but the carvings along the rocky cliff overlooking the ocean. He had been to her cliff side city, her home. Sas couldn’t help but wonder if this had been before or after the blockade was put around her planet. Her gut told her that he only could have taken the carving after it was in place.

A new spark caught fire in her chest, this one white hot and explosive. She breathed in deeply, holding her breath for a moment and letting her anger chase the longing from her heart. It didn’t matter what Abusivus could make her feel, he wasn't Obi-Wan. He might have his voice, his mannerisms, and appearance, but Sas knew better than anyone that a convincing disguise did nothing to hide whoever was underneath it. She had learned that lesson the hard way.

It didn’t matter when Abusivus took the crest from her home world. None of that mattered. Their history didn’t matter. What mattered was that Sas had people depending on her. Padmé, Jankari, and Pyrrha were depending on her to gather as much Imperial intelligence as she could. Abusivus was just another obstacle in her way. She just had to hang onto her anger long enough to leave the office.

Letting out a breath, Sas raised her hands to his wrist and slowly lowered them away from her face.

“Darling-” he started. She hadn’t realized she was trembling until he stiffened under her touch, there was no doubt he felt the shift in her mood. Another deep breath and she steadied her hands. “What are you-?”

“Please don’t call me that,” Sas answered as evenly as she could. She could hear the waver in her voice and told herself it was anger. It wouldn’t be good to have Captain Brisa leaving the office in such an emotional state, even if Sas was struggling between giving in to his gravity, or letting her rage devour her. Either one would make it more difficult for Sas to leave the building alive.

Abusivus pulled his hands away from hers then and straightened up. Sas didn’t meet his gaze. “I’m sorry,” he answered, even managing to sound genuine. “I- I missed you.”

There was another blaster bolt to her chest. She took another deep breath, the words I missed you too nearly choking her as they fought to leave her lips. Instead she looked to the Onderon statue, the Twi’lek figure, the stone crest on his desk. She tried to imagine the dirt under her finger tips, imagine the circumstances where he took those things as prizes for his conquests. She could harden her despair, she had to. She had to go home and call for an extraction.

“I saw you crash…I thought I lost you” He started again.

“You did. Four years ago.” She finally met his gaze. Part of her hoped she would find the clear blue eyes of the man that she adored, but still she was met with cold amber eyes, his brows furrowed low over them.

“Sas-”

“Tell me you didn’t have anything to do with the blockade around Zolan. Tell me you didn’t attack my home!”

Silence fell heavy between them. Abusivus loomed over her, his jaw clenching as his gaze hardened. Sas wanted to strike him, demand an answer, instead she let herself feel the sting of his betrayal as she dug her nails into her palms in a tightly clenched fist. Whatever comment he had been about to make was lost under the weight of her demand. Sas had seen the look before. When he was choosing his words carefully. She was an enemy now, and she knew well enough how Abusivus used to negotiate with his enemies. The only reason he was paying her this decency was likely for the sake of their past relationship. He took a step away from her, nine years of war suddenly seeming to weigh down his shoulders as he leaned back against his desk.

“Perhaps I wouldn’t have needed to take such measures, if I did not have to clean up after your messes,” Abusivus said at last as he stroked his beard..

That was worse than a blaster shot. A tremor ran through her as she tried to make sense of his comment. “You just said you thought I was dead.”

“I did. When I first caught your trail, I wasn’t so sure-”

“What trail? Nothing has happened-”

“Does a missing intelligence officer on Onderon sound familiar, it should.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh then perhaps on Naboo? Ryloth? Or maybe the ambush on Jabiim sounds familiar? It goes without saying that many troopers and agents went missing in the early days. If Saw Gerrera, or Cham Syndulla picked off a few agents during an investigation, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise.”

Sas held her breath. She knew exactly what missions he was referring to. She hadn’t stayed in Imperial Intelligence for so long without avoiding combat zones and running into old faces. Each that he referenced however weren’t exactly huge blows to the Empire. She had been sure about that.

“It's incredible really that an officer not trained for combat could survive so many large scale skirmishes, but you seem to be at the center of each one. Of course when I first started looking into these encounters I thought we just had a very lucky officer on our hands, that perhaps we just kept sending in one of our best as she’s proven to get results. It’s not unheard of, after all.”

There was nothing Sas could do but stand and listen. Her lungs ached with every word she wanted to shout at him. She could just walk out. That would be the smart thing to do. She could walk out, be careful that no one followed her home, and hope that Crix could call an extraction for her before it was too late. She couldn't leave just yet though. Sas couldn’t break down and she couldn’t storm out, she still had people depending on her.

"There were two conclusions I could have arrived at, this of course after conducting my own investigation," Abusivus continued. “The first was that Rola Brisa was indeed just a fresh face and eager to prove herself. The second was much more fantastical, however there was no record of anyone recovering your body from the temple, and yet you had been reported as killed in action. I’m guessing someone, probably yourself, made sure that information was in the databases. There was even speculation that you had something to do with the death of Senator Amidala. Though, with you being here, I’m guessing that she and her children are alive and well.”

Sas stayed silent, not wanting to confirm or deny any of what he was beginning to realize. Maybe he already knew, or had always known. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to think about how long he possibly suspected she was hiding in Imperial ranks.

He paused for a moment studying her, as if for a moment she was one of the trophies in his office he could turn and examine however he pleased. She supposed she was in a lot of ways, though that was hardly a reassuring thought. "However, that isn't what I wished to discuss, not now anyway," he said seemingly more to himself than to Sas. “Against my better judgment I looked into the fantastical option. There was something…comforting in knowing you were still carrying on this pointless crusade-”

“Stop, just stop!” The words burst from her. “Just stop talking!” Sas squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t listen to him say that. She couldn’t talk about this. None of it made sense to her. She couldn’t believe it was all for nothing, that his friends, his people died for nothing. She felt the tears spill over her cheeks, and she took a deep breath trying to focus on the pounding of her heart in her ears. She needed to control herself. If she shifted now, she’d never leave his office alive.

“I’m sorry-”

“Are you going to kill me?” Sas cut him off.

He crossed his arms over his chest, his pristine uniform seeming more like restraints as he stroked his auburn beard. “Why would I do a thing like that?”

Sas still didn’t look in his eyes. “You did just tell at least a dozen Intelligence Officers to report to you if they found out anything about me.” She didn’t like this game. She just wanted him to be straightforward with her.

“Ah, I supposed that would be your natural conclusion.”

Sas gritted her teeth. For just a moment she had been willing to pretend that the man in front of her could make her feel whole again, that she could somehow look past the situation they found themselves in. Something in the casual tone he used to answer her made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

“Then what the fuck do you want from me?” She said at last.

Abusivus’ lips quivered upward briefly as if he were amused by her question. He stroked his beard once, then twice, letting the silence stretch on between them.

“Can you just get on with it-?”

“Patience,” he said, the small grin still in place. “Forgive me for wanting to pick my words carefully before I make a proposal.”

Sas hated the way he said that. She knew he phrased it that way on purpose. Five years apart and he was trying to get under her skin in the worst ways possible. She crossed her arms over her chest. It was the only way to hold herself back from slapping him across the face. Not even when he had been a Jedi did he ever joke about that. While she always knew a marriage and a life after the war together was never in their future, she never would have thought it would have come to this conclusion. They were on opposite sides of the war now, and he had thrown away everything they had fought together for. Somehow he still had the nerve to make jokes about a proposal.

“Just spit it out,Traitor,” Sas said at last, her body trembling with the build and mixture of emotions warring inside her chest.

“Oh no my de-” He stopped himself and shut his amber eyes tightly for a moment before continuing. He let out a breath. “You understand that I found you, right? Had anyone else had the sense to dig deeper they would have found you. If anyone else found you, you'd already be in an interrogation chamber.” He said, his tone almost seeming annoyed, but his brows had that little furrow they always got when he was thinking hard about something.

Had he not cut her so deep, she might have felt sympathy for the brief hint of anguish that crossed his features. She might have even taken his warning seriously. But this was Abusivus, not Obi-Wan, and Sas wasn’t going to let him make her feel so vulnerable again. She kept Brisa’s face in place, watching him with serious but tired green eyes.

Abusivus continued when there was no answer. “I can petition to have you cleared of any charges, Sas. You wouldn’t need to disguise yourself any longer-”

“So what's stopping you? Shouldn’t be difficult for someone like you.” All he was offering was empty promises. Once upon a time they had sworn to each other that they wouldn’t do such things to each other.

“Might I ask what information you’re specifically looking for at this time? Obviously you’re spying for someone.”

“I’m not feeling inclined to share that.”

“I should have guessed as much.”

“Is that all you wanted from me? To figure out who I’m working with and what they want? I would have thought a sith lord would have had a more tempting offer than to just clear my record.” Each word felt like a crack forming in a pressurized tank. She felt too many things, but he needed to know how he hurt her. What he was doing to her. She needed to relieve some of the pressure.

The faintest hint of a smile came to him. “I believe you’ve turned down better offers with much less at stake. You must forgive me for that very poor attempt.”

“I don’t have to forgive you for anything.”

Again the Grand Admiral shut his eyes for a heart beat too long. “I don’t suppose you do, and I should understand why. It is a shame it has come to this.”

“I’m not so sure it would have ended any better for us in another life,” Sas answered simply. She would have preferred it wasn’t this one, she would have preferred an ending where she died before having to know how wrong things truly went.

“I like to imagine there is at least one reality where we end up happy.”

“You’re purposely trying to distract me. Just tell me what you want or kill me.”

“Sas,” he started again, and for a moment she caught a glimpse of the man who lit up her world and kept her going during the clone wars. The one who kept her safe and made her feel loved. “I need your help. I can’t do this without you.” He looked to something behind her for just a brief moment and she got the feeling they were running out of time. “What if I told you, that your perception is flawed? ”

“What if I told you, I’d rather get back to work,” Sas answered. She still had people waiting on her, but she was going to be more careful about her words.

If she were being honest with herself, and she was very worried that she couldn’t be in that moment, something about his tone sounded familiar. He was asking her for help, but she wasn’t sure what exactly he needed help doing. He said her perception was flawed. She could only assume that things weren’t quite what she was expecting them to be. He hadn’t killed her yet so that at least was a good start. There was more to it though.

Sas turned away from his gaze. Hanging on the wall next to another painting of the Naboo countryside, was something that looked like some kind of schematic. The longer she looked the more the halls looked like tunnels twisting and knotting underground. She blinked and it hit her. It was the layout for a Geonocian factory.

Abusivus’ offer reminded her of the one Count Dooku made him nearly ten years ago when they had been captured on Geonosis. Dooku had told the truth then. Maybe Abusivus was telling the truth too. Maybe he hadn’t really fallen.

She looked back to the Grand Admiral. The corners of his lips pulled upward ever so slightly.

Perhaps Abusivus planted that thought in her head. There was only one thing to do; be smarter than Obi-Wan had been when faced with this same choice.

“I want the clean slate, pay raise, no questions asked, and I’ll do whatever you need me to,” Sas answered at last.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As always thank you for reading! I hope you are enjoying this story so far! It was meant to just be a one shot and has taken on a whole life of its own lol And like always, likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for the love on the last two chapters!

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#star wars fanfic #obi wan fanfic #sith obi wan #obi-wan kenobi fanfic #sw fanfic #sith obi wan fanfic #obi wan kenobi x oc #sith obi wan x oc #obi-wan fanfic #obi-wan kenobi #sith!obi wan #sith au #lovers to enemies to lovers #ya'll feel free to yell at me for this one like theres a lot to keep track of here i'm not gonna lie #Sas Vom #my girl is putting up with so much and she's so damn tired of this man's dramatics #a lot of this one is based on fics i haven't written yet so i'm very sorry about that oops

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galacticwildfire · 1 year

Text

Star Wars Fanfic OC boards

Sharing moodboards from the star wars stories I've got up

Hope. | Poe Dameron

Illicit Affairs | Obi-Wan Kenobi

Found. | Din Djarin

#poe dameron x oc #obi-wan kenobi x oc #Din djarin x oc #poe dameron fanfic #obi-wan kenobi fanfic #Din djarin fanfic #poe dameron #obi-wan kenobi #Din djarin #the mandalorian #star wars #fanfiction

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ddejavvu · 3 months

Note

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

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

this post is 18+, minors dni.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I was going to take a walk in the city," You repeat, teeth gritted, "I was going to keep my hood up, and I was going to blend in with the crowd."

"An excellent plan, truly," Obi-Wan indulges you, "I'm sure the seasoned bounty hunters that are poised to shoot you on sight would have been fooled by a cloth draped over your hair."

"I'm going crazy in here! I have to get out, I have to do something!" You gush, attempting to tear your arm out of Obi-Wan's grip. He doesn't let go, though, and he muscles it back to your side with a fleeting glint of fury in his eyes that you hadn't thought a Jedi was capable of. He walks forwards, and by extension, you walk backwards until your knees hit the frame of your bed and you're pushed down onto the mattress.

"Senator," He starts, keeping his voice tightly wound as he now looms over you, "I have a duty to protect you, but you have a duty to your own life as well. And I will not see you risk it by hanging yourself off of a skyscraper for something as menial as a stroll in the city! If you'd like to walk, you may walk into the closet and get yourself changed into your nightclothes, because the only thing you'll be doing this late at night is sleeping."

"You're not my daddy," You sneer at the man, his audacity setting something in your chest aflame, "You can't tell me what to do. I'm not going to sleep."

"I find your impression of a petulant toddler truly amusing, Senator," Obi-Wan deflects your persistent attempts at boiling him over, "But as you have a hearing to attend tomorrow, I suggest you take my advice and turn in for the night."

You bite the inside of your cheek so hard you're surprised it doesn't split beneath your teeth. He's right. You have a hearing tomorrow, and you're really only protesting sleep because he's asking you to do it. Perhaps.. perhaps that is below your station.

"Go," Obi-Wan's eyes flicker towards your dark closet, "But I would like you to leave the door open, please."

"What?" You rear your head back indignantly, any succession you'd decided on now gone as you process his request, "I'm not letting you watch me change, you freak!"

"I assure you I will not be watching," Obi-Wan lets go of your bicep, leaving a stinging ring around your skin in his wake, "But should there be any climb-able windows or secret exits in your closet that I'm not yet aware of, I don't want to be slowed down by a lock in my attempts to rescue you from your own foolishness."

"You're crazy. I'm telling the Jedi Council about this." You vow, storming off to your closet and tucking yourself into the walk-in portion so that your bodyguard can't see you as you strip down.

"You're more than welcome to, Senator. I suggest, though, that you be truthful with them about your attempts to fall from the two-hundredth-story of this building, otherwise you're going to make me look rather perverted."

"It's the 108th floor!" You snap, any patience you'd possessed throughout your encounter with Kenobi flooding out of you. It heats your skin, blazes it warm, which is perhaps why you've forgotten you're no longer clothed when you whirl around to correct the man to his face.

You're standing in the doorway of your closet now, very angry and very naked. Master Kenobi's eyes stay politely locked on your own, but one of his eyebrows raises, and a corner of his lips twitch in a barely-concealed smirk.

"Senator, if I were you," He drawls, his gaze heavy upon you despite being fixed on only your eyes, "I wouldn't tell the Council that you're giving me a strip show."

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hellotherekenobi · 1 year

Text

Crystal Clear.

Summary: Obi-Wan has always looked after you and has always shown you that he cares. When the peaceful life you live is threatened, he shows you how deeply his affections lie.

Word Count: 3,670

Dedicated to @immoral-rose ♥

CW/TW: mentions of battle (explosions), injury, & anxiety; crying; a brief sentence about self-injury but it’s not graphic; gn!reader though the term “handmaiden” is used.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Knowing Obi-Wan Kenobi is no easy task.

Everywhere he goes, danger follows. He’s like a magnet to it. Sometimes, you even think he rather enjoys the danger. Not that he would ever admit to it, but it’s true regarding his history.

As for you, the moment you see danger you run. A true flight instinct, rather than fight. Maybe if you had that kind of passion you would be alongside the Jedi, or an ally in some fashion, but truly you just want to live a peaceful life. If any sort of danger is on the horizon, you’re heading in the opposite direction.

Some might consider that cowardly but that’s not it at all. The main reason why you even know Obi-Wan to begin with is because you offered him assistance when there was an attack on the palace you work in, helping to navigate him through the worker’s corridors.

Being a handmaiden came with a lot of perks. One of which just so happens to be that whenever the lady of the house needs Jedi assistance, Obi-Wan is the Jedi who always comes.

Truly, it’s ridiculous how quickly you grew an attachment to him. The first time you met, he had dropped down from the balcony above the one you were standing on and startled you half to death. He had abashedly apologized, though he was chuckling.

That was it. That was all it took for you to fall head over heels for him. One giddy apology matched with his sunkissed smile. Then you were absolutely doomed.

How typical it is that after years of not finding an interest in anyone, the person you happen to fall for is someone who can’t reciprocate those feelings. Jedi aren’t allowed to have attachments and even if they could, you fear he’d want a fighter on his side instead.

Sure, he is ever the gentleman when you two speak to each other. He holds the door for you, he walks on the outer side of the footpath, and he kisses your knuckles with each hello and goodbye. But that’s simply because he has such a pure heart. There can’t be any other motivator under the surface of it all.

When you don’t have much on your list of things to do around the palace—the lady of the house being a very hospitable countess—then you walk around the gardens, and when Obi-Wan has to await further instruction, he joins you.

The conversation ranges amidst many different things. Sometimes it’s regarding your favorite books or poetry. Other times it’s about all of his exciting adventures, remarking on how great so many cultures are in the galaxy.

Obi-Wan is a gentleman, but he’s also a tease.

You had once told him, “I have often wanted to see those other planets, just as you have.”

And he smiled, outshining the sun, and replied, “I’ll take you with me one day.”

There isn’t a way he can keep that promise, you’re sure of it, so you had simply laughed and asked him to tell you another story.

Days like those are your favorites. Especially when you’re feeling more spirited than most, walking along the stone railing with Obi-Wan on the grass beside you, his hand holding yours so that you don’t tip over and fall.

Honestly, you sometimes only go up here just so that you can hold his hand. His skin is soft but with calloused fingertips, and it’s a comforting feeling.

It’s no surprise, then, that you’re walking along the railing again today, hand happily in his hold.

“I think it’s the quiet that I’m fond of,” Obi-Wan speaks, walking at the pace you’re setting. “To be among the mountains. That’s where I want to be.”

You offer him a smile, looking down at him. “That sounds lovely.”

He squeezes your hand, making dragonflies run circles in your stomach. “Your turn now. One place in the whole galaxy, where do you want to go?”

Pursing your lips, you delay your response with a hum. You already know what the answer is but you’ll do anything in your power to stretch out any moment with him for as long as possible.

“The beach,” you say and simply that.

Obi-Wan raises his chin. “That’s all?”

You nod. “That’s all. I’ve never been.”

He stops walking, causing your hand to tug at his when you don’t stop as quickly as he does. Looking down at him, you frown some.

“What’s the matter?” You ask.

His voice is sympathetic, though there’s a very faint grin at his lips. “You’ve never been to the beach?”

“Not once,”

“Well,” he straightens his posture, walking alongside you again. “I’ll have to take you there one day.”

Another promise you’re sure he won’t hold true to. It’s fun, when you’re young especially, to make promises of days you want to spend with someone else, but those plans usually fade away eventually.

Besides, there’s a war going on and Obi-Wan is a Jedi amongst the battle. You doubt you’ll ever watch the waves roll in, let alone with him by your side.

“I’d like that,” you mutter, knowing that your words hold as little weight to them as does his.

When you reach the end of the railing, you turn halfway and Obi-Wan keeps a tight hold of your hand as you lower yourself to sit on top of it, then he pushes himself up to sit beside you.

“Can you swim?” You ask him, swinging your legs.

He nods, scrunching up his face some. The look is clearly displeasing and you can’t help but to chuckle.

“You don’t like the water?” You press, leaning your arm against his.

He sighs. “I’m not too fond of it. Not as much as flying, though.”

“Oh, so flying is worse?”

“Flying is much worse,” he states, a finger pointed. “That’s for droids.”

“Hmm, I’ll keep that in mind.”

A gentle breeze enters the conversation, which is lovely given the temperature. Speaking with Obi-Wan in moments like these feel so special but more than that, they feel comfortable. Around him, you don’t feel the need to act a certain way. You can just be yourself.

Pushing against his arm again, this time in a playful way, you say, “Maybe the beach is out of the question then since you don’t like to swim.”

“Well,” he leans close to you as if he were speaking for no one else to hear, “just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean I won’t.”

“By why would you?”

Obi-Wan’s brows furrow marginally, looking at you with an expression caught between confusion and sincerity.

“Because you’ll be there.”

Smiling at him softly, you feel a bit bashful by his genuine reply, shaking your head so that he can’t tell how easily you’re swooned by that affirmation alone.

“You’re quite the charmer, Obi-Wan.”

He grins, showing his canines. “It comes naturally with you.”

You think he’s just being a tease now, so you turn his face away from you with a palm against his cheek, and he chuckles heartily as you push off of the railing and tell him that you both should get back to your responsibilities.

Weeks after that, he hardly visits the palace as battles grow tense against the Republic. The handmaidens alongside you work in earnest for the countess’ benefit and also in preparation should an attack happened here.

If you were crossing your fingers behind your back, you would blame yourself for when battle droids stampede the grounds.

The invasion is unlike any you’ve seen and you hurry to hide away as many people as you can through the worker’s corridors, which leads out to a bunker. There is also an escape route from there but until the threat outside is neutralized, there’s no way anyone can make it out without detection.

You’re not sure what possesses you to remain in the thick of it instead of doing your usual reaction by fleeing, but you’re more focused on the safety of others by doing all that you can.

Maybe Obi-Wan’s ways are rubbing off on you. Though, regarding your secluded history, you’re not sure if that’s a good thing.

So, you keep posted by the entrance to the corridors, waving in more people who run down the hallway and lead them inside, telling them to wait with the others.

One person grabs hold of your sleeve, almost tearing the material right off of your shoulder.

“My brother,” they plead. “He’s only young. We were separated.”

“He’ll find his way,” you say, urging them to keep moving.

“Please, he can’t be on his own!”

Neither can you. This is not the kind of person you are, the type that runs into danger even if it were for a noble cause. It scares you down to your bones to think about leaving your partially safe spot by the doorway, but their wailing pushes at your sensibility.

“Alright,” you cave in. “Hide with the others. I’ll find him.”

The distant explosions around the palace are no match for how deafening your heartbeat rings in your eyes, and you feel it against your chest, at your temples, and at your wrists pulsing with an overwhelming amount that takes your feet down the hallway instead of your mind.

There are endless possibilities on where this boy could be. For all you know, he might be right where all the battle droids are. If you go to him then, you’ll just endanger him more with yourself included.

But you can’t leave him behind. Maker knows he must be feeling worse than you, especially for a young one.

Getting closer to the noise makes you less sure of everything, though. Two times already you have had to flatten yourself to the wall when a battle droid runs past, in an effect to hide from them. Every single thing that moves has you on edge, even when your mind tricks you into seeing things that aren’t there.

Yet, as you expected, you find the boy so close to the battle at hand that he may as well be in the thick of it. He’s crouched behind a crumbled half wall near the assembly hall, a fleet of battle droids ahead of him. Between you and them is a long hallway, an opening on your left and right.

Peeking around each corner, you make certain that when you gain the courage to move from your spot, you won’t collide with a battle droid or their line of fire.

It seems they’re too focused on their attack to notice him, or you, so with an insane amount of luck, you run across the opening and kneel by his side, trying to keep hidden from the flimsy cover that there is for the two of you.

“I’m here,” you tell the boy. “Come with me. I’ll keep you safe.”

He’s been crying, his fist still balled up at his cheek as the tears stream down his face. Whimpering, he holds his arms out to you and you lift him in your hold, carrying him at your side, and dash back the way you came after assuring the coast is clear.

Unfortunately, when you’re about to turn the corner, you’re met with a large group of battle droids who weren’t there before. Gasping, you manage to duck behind the wall before they can notice you and set the child on the floor, kneeling beside him.

“We need to wait here a moment. Don’t make a sound—”

Your voice is buried beneath another explosion, nearer this time as it happens right behind the wall. The strength of it shakes the ground and you wrap the boy in your arms to shield him from the smoke and rubble, hoping that the ceiling won’t collapse.

There’s gunfire and flashes of red and blue as the sounds of the droids grow nearer, and you wonder if there’s any time to run away, though you know you won’t make it halfway down the hallway before you’re shot at.

A shadow grows near and you cover the boy more, hoping to at least protect him, until a hand grabs your shoulder and you shriek, turning to meet your attacker face to face.

But it’s a face you know too well and are relieved at seeing him standing there.

“Obi-Wan!” You reach a hand to hold onto his robes and he lowers to his knee, watching you with worrisome eyes.

“Are you hurt?” He asks, bringing the hand on your shoulder up to your cheek.

You shake your head. “No, no. But the boy,” you move an inch to show Obi-Wan the child behind you. “We need to get him to the bunker.”

“Alright,” Obi-Wan affirms. “Keep to my side.”

There’s no place you’d rather be right now, nodding as you follow him closely with the boy holding your hand. You’re relieved to see that he’s stopped crying. In fact, he’s quite transfixed with the Jedi leading you both down the hallway.

Obi-Wan is more strategical than you, so he keeps you all seemingly invisible to the battle droids you maneuver around, and you feel more at ease now that he’s here.

The drive you had to protect the boy is now kept under a blanket and you grow restless to get to the bunker since you’ve gone through enough excitement for one day. Once is more than enough to try and be brave. You just want to hide again.

As you all approach the door to the worker’s corridor, Obi-Wan lets you and the boy step ahead of him. You pat the boy’s back and urge him to follow the path until he reaches the bunker entrance and as he begins to run, Obi-Wan’s hand comes to rest on your back.

“Lock the door behind you,” he says, still attentive to the noise happening around the palace.

“Aren’t you coming too?” You ask.

“No, there’s still more fighting to be done.”

“Don’t fight, Obi-Wan. Come with us.”

He smiles weakly, caressing your cheek with his soft but calloused hand. “I want nothing more, but I want to protect you first.”

“But—”

You don’t get to finish your sentence as another explosion sets off, this time within the hallway you’re standing in. The distance of it not only rattles the ground but shakes you as well, and Obi-Wan is diving forward, his arms wrapping around you, to push you both behind the corner and away from the blast.

It’s a powerful explosion that takes down the support beams, effectively taking down part of the ceiling, too. The structure crumbles at the corner, creating a mountain of debris that blocks the way and so there’s no going back now.

With the push, you’re sent down to the ground with Obi-Wan above you, his body shielding you from the damage.

When at last the smoke clears, he’s helping you to sit up against the wall, his hands on either side of your face, brushing away soot and dust.

“Are you okay?” He asks, looking you over from head to toe.

Coughing, you shake your head at him, feeling the anxieties of being in danger rise like hot liquid from the pit of your stomach all the way to your throat, and you begin to cry.

“No, I’m not okay— I’m fine but I’m not okay,”

“Hey,” he coos, tilting your head enough to look him in the eyes. “There, there, my dove. I promise you I’ll get you out of here.”

“I’m scared, Obi-Wan,”

“I am too,” he brings one hand down to yours, squeezing it tightly. “But I’m a man of my word. I will protect you.”

Deep down, right through all the worry, you know that he’ll keep you safe. If not by all the heroic acts you’ve heard about and now seen for yourself, then for all the times he’s been kind to you. All the laughter, the touches, and the quiet moments just for you both. You trust him with your life and you know he’ll take care of you.

On the outside, though, you’re shaking. The explosion has startled you so much, seeing as it was so close, and the knowledge of if Obi-Wan hadn’t pushed you when he did, you might have been crushed under the rubble.

Thoughts speak louder than words but in this case your actions are screaming; trembling with your back to the wall and tears still streaming down your cheeks.

Obi-Wan’s hand at your cheek brushes featherlike circles there, effectively wiping your tears. He whispers your name, grounds you with more surety, then leans forward and presses his lips to yours.

The gasp gets stuck in your throat but you immediately still, eyes wide as he kisses you with gentle, potent lips. He whispers to you again, this time through the Force, and you hear him; my dove. Oh, my dove. I love you.

By those words alone, all the tension dissolves. Reaching a hand out to clutch hold of his tunic, you whimper against his kiss, closing your eyes and allowing his lips to soothe your fears.

With his affections, your shaking stops. He’s auspiciously sedated all the nerves you felt, making your senses crystal clear when he leads you through the storm. He keeps you far from the danger, navigating around droids, damage, and conflict.

At last, meeting the others on the outskirts when it’s clear enough for them to travel the escape route, Obi-Wan carefully helps you aboard the ship with everyone inside.

The ship itself is compatible for water, hovering there for now until the top of it will close and sail under to get away from here. Obi-Wan stands on the bay, one boot in the water, with his hand in yours as he makes sure you climb aboard securely.

“Don’t worry about me,” he says, offering a smile that eases your concern. “I’ll see you again.”

When the ship doors shut and it dips beneath the water, you wonder if you truly will see him after this. With the battle, it will take months before you and the others can safely return, especially the countess. Living secluded will need to be your new way of life.

That’s exactly what it becomes. In fact, you’re away from home—or what you call it, seeing as growing up there is the earliest memory you have—for a year.

To assure the safety of the people and the countess, you travel from port to port and remain with various folk for intermittent times. You try your best to hear reports about the war and of the Jedi, hoping that you’ll hear news of the man whom you love. And who loves you.

Knowing that he does only makes the time away torturous, not truly sure if you’ll see him again like he promised, though you trust him completely. Whether the uncertainty is there because of your safety or his, or if time and events will allow it.

By the time a year is up and news reaches you that it’s safe to return, the palace is hardly such a thing at all. The grounds, the gardens, the structures, and the homes are all in ruins. It takes months to repair all the damage and by the time you feel yourself back to routine, it’s nowhere near complete.

Walking the gardens is the only comfort you get in such distressing times. The war is still ongoing and you know that at any point, you all may need to flee again. But in this place, your swirling thoughts cease. You simply exist freely amongst the flowers, swaddled by memories of walking along the stone railing with your sweet Jedi.

There’s no hand to hold yours as you walk the railing, your shoes scraping the stone as you take each step. In a silly way, you’re not entirely upset about the fact if you fall. After being away for so long, it may be the only time you feel again.

Yet, when you slip, you feel your heart sink at the expectation of hitting the grass, only for a hand to slide into yours, fingers interlinked tightly, and a shoulder pressing on your arm to prevent you from tipping over.

When you look down to see who caught you, all the breath leaves your lungs. It’s him. Your Jedi, your love. Your Obi-Wan.

You say his name excitedly, watching his lips upturn into that bright grin he’d show you on sunny afternoons, and throw away his effort in supporting you as you leap off the railing right into his arms.

He catches you like he always does, holding you securely to him as he buries his face in your neck, pressing featherlike kisses to the skin and whispering your name over and over again.

“I promised you, didn’t I, my dove?” He speaks. “I would take you to the beach.”

A relieving and altogether elated chuckle bubbles from your lips, leaning back a fraction to look into those lovely cerulean eyes of his.

“Oh, Obi-Wan,” you say, smiling brightly. “I love you.”

He smiles in return, brushing a hand along your cheek. “And I love you.”

Your heart swelters, feeling full of life again. Any adversity ahead of you now is small in comparison to the assurance of Obi-Wan’s love.

A gentle kiss is pressed to your forehead and then your cheek. He ghosts a kiss on the tip of your nose, hovering his lips above yours before raising the hand he holds into the space, kissing your knuckles.

As soon as your hand moves away, Obi-Wan leans into you completely, kissing you deeply. He’s gentle and amorous, guided by an affection truthful to the words he assured you now so long ago. With fingers intertwined, he pours his devotions between incandescent kisses.

In between the marble pillars of the palace, deep within the gardens filled with heart and soul and ghosts of the lives lived before now, Obi-Wan kisses you with a crystal clear love that glimmers for time indefinite.

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where-fantasy-meets-reality · 10 months

Text

“Reflections Of A Distant Past” Chapter 6

Masterlist

Pairing: Ben Kenobi x F. Reader

Word Count: 5.9 K

Warnings: None that I can think of, other than I fall in love with this man every day.

A/N: Hello everyone! I apologize for the delay in posting this, but I was struggling with writer's block due hectic schedule and lack of free time. Nonetheless, I am happy with the end result. There will be more updates I am just not sure when, so I apologize for the inconsistent schedule. As always thank you to everyone who reads and shows support, it is always appreciated. Feel free to comment and share your thoughts and if you want to be added to masterlist, just let me know.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

There had been an undeniable pep in your step in the days following your date with Ben.

You had been humming, smiling, and daydreaming as much as it pained you to admit it. It’s as if you were fifteen years old again.

That thought made you both giggle and roll your eyes in frustration at the same time.

As promised, you had taken a look at your schedule and gotten back to Ben. You had suggested meeting him Friday afternoon for a coffee at the shop Ahsoka worked at. In the summers she worked the morning shift, so she wouldn’t be present when the two of you are on your date; as that would have been awkward for the both of you.

Even though there were only two days between your first date and the next, you felt it went by even faster than you had anticipated the previous date…but that could have been due to your overwhelming excitement.

- - - - - - - - - -

Ben stood in his bathroom mirror, fussing over his hair. He wanted to look his absolute best.

Considering this date was much more casual, he opted for a pair of dark wash jeans and a forest green polo with a pair of brown dress shoes.

Finally happy with the way his hair looked, he quickly combed his beard and grabbed his cologne.

Whistling while he was spraying himself, he hadn’t heard Anakin walk into his bedroom.

Leaning against the frame of the bathroom doorway, Anakin causally crossed his arms and allowed a smile to creep up from the corner of his mouth.

“Wow…look at you….two dates in one week….When should I expect her to move in?”

Glancing at him with his sassy side-eye expression, Ben didn’t pause his fussing with his appearance. “Easy there.” He cautioned.

Anakin gave out a short laugh. “I’m just saying…for a guy who has made it a point to not get involved romantically with anyone in his very long extended life, this week has been a huge one for you…”

Ben smiled thinking of Emma. “Well, that is because there is no one like her Anakin….she’s breathtaking ... .amazing really…”

Straightening, Anakin let his mouth fall open and his eyes widened. “Damn…..You really are in love….you just called her breathtaking.”

“I wouldn’t go that far yet ... .Do I have feelings for her?…yes, unfortunately ... .Am I going to keep seeing her…Well, yes, until she orders me away…”

“IF she orders you away…” Anakin interjected. “...And what do you mean, unfortunately, you have feelings for her, mutual attraction is a strong start to a stable relationship.”

Finally turning away from the mirror and looking fully at his friend, Ben frowned slightly. “...I say unfortunately because she deserves better than a 160-something-year-old monster…”

Rolling his eyes, Anakin leaned against the wall again.“Really? You’re still on this? Are you ever just going to let loose and relax? Doesn’t she make you forget all of that angst and negative emotion? Be free and feel happy again, allow yourself that.”

Walking past Anakin, Ben sat on the side of his bed that occupied the middle of his room. “...She does…When I’m with her…Well…I’d swear it was 1888 again, only because I feel human again, the rest is very un-1888 but…. if I close my eyes, I can envision…I can see her….But she makes me feel better than any woman I loved ever did…”

Sitting next to his alpha, Anakin gently nudged him with his elbow. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it? I mean most people would say it is, but leave it to you to complicate things…”

The two men shared a laugh at the awkward truth.

Ben sighed. “...I think it is a good thing…It only makes me melancholy because I realize that I didn’t really know what love was back then or even now…but honestly, in that society, we were given no choice…in most marriages, the partners learned to love each other because they had to, divorce was not an option if you wanted to keep your standing in society and I suppose…Shopie and I would have made it work over time…I think we were in love…I’m sure I was…”

“Wow…You said her name…”

Nodding his head slowly, Ben looked at Anakin. “I know I need to let go of the past…or at least the pain of the past…the three of you are always telling me that and I think in order to be the best I can be for Emma then I am going to have to actually do it…or at least try to do it…”

Anakin’s head swayed back and forth as he gently shook it. “I can’t believe what I am hearing….”

“Well don’t get too excited yet…She still doesn’t know who or what I am exactly…”

“You haven’t told her?!?!” Anakin exclaimed as he leaned back, away from Ben. “...You’re in this deep and she still doesn’t know?”

Pursing his lips, Ben closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, centering himself so that he didn’t blow up on his friend.

“What was I supposed to do, just blurt it out? We only just had our first date. Other than that we exchanged a handful of text messages and a few in-person conversations…How am I supposed to slip that in? …” Oh, by the way, I was turned into a werewolf, most likely by a psycho serial killer in 1888 and I was born in 1857 in London England which makes me roughly over 160 years old” ....Yeah…that will go over real well…”

Breathing in to also center and calm his wolf, Anakin eyed Ben expectantly. “...You can’t wait too long, you know better, you're the one always on us about the consequences of our actions ... .If her feelings are as strong for you as yours are for her, then waiting too long to tell her something like that will be disastrous.”

Ben knew he was right. He had told himself multiple times that if he was in Emma’s position and that a guy she just met came out with this type of secret after months of dating and thinking that she had feelings for what she thought was a normal guy….well, to put it lightly, he knew he would blow it.

“If things go well this afternoon, I’ll ask her on another date….and on that date, I will tell her…something….No matter how it scares me….”

“You will feel better once you do…”

“Oh, I am sure I will….I can’t tell you how many times I almost said something that gave me away…She is so easy to talk to and at dinner, she was asking me all these questions about my past and I so desperately wanted to tell her the truth because she deserves the truth…”

Ben didn’t voice the part of the silent truth that he discovered…that Emma was the first person he had met in his non-human life that made him feel like it was safe to talk about those things…to allow himself to be vulnerable.

Alpha werewolves had a hard time with vulnerability and emotion. If shown too much in the wrong circumstances, it could negatively affect them or give a rival alpha or pack member the wrong idea. Therefore, most alphas were jerks or hardasses, even to their packs.

Over the years, Ben had learned to walk a fine line. It helped that his pack was built organically, out of genuineness for the members and that they were small in number. He wasn’t some king-pin type who went around turning people or collecting already-made werewolves to build his pack up so that he could rule with an iron fist and do as he pleased….no, that was not him…man or beast.

Rather, Ben had just tried to detach himself from his emotions altogether and go about things without emotion. At first, all the rage and angst about his new life made it pretty easy. He had been a lone wolf till he found Anakin…after that, it was all about keeping him safe and in line….from there, he developed his traits and style as a leader. It helped that the man he was had been groomed to be a leader; as most men in that society were.

Anakin reached out and placed a gentle hand on Ben’s shoulder, cutting his internal thoughts short. “If your feelings are mutual and as strong as they are, she will understand…It may take her a minute to accept it as it did for Padme, but she will come around….”

“I hope so,” Ben whispered.

“The way you describe her, I’d swear she’s your mate, Padme thinks so too….But I know you don’t want to hear that…”

Ben heaved a sigh as he stood up. “Again, do not get ahead of yourself, there is still a lot to be determined.”

Walking out of the room, Anakin decided to lighten the mood. “Whatever,” he raised his hands in surrender. “…Have fun and ugh…” He looked at Ben over his shoulder and winked. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do…”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Ben had offered to pick you up again for your Friday afternoon date, but seeing how the shop was down the street from your shop, you decided just to meet him there. Besides, it was a beautiful bright, sunny day for a walk. The temperature was perfect, there was a slight breeze, and the way downtown looked this time of year always warmed your heart.

It wasn’t a downtown that was towering with looming skyscrapers and gray with concrete. No, instead, downtown looked like something out of a Hallmark movie. Small storefronts, owned by generations of the same family, lined wide paved sidewalks, a flower box in every window. The same old-fashioned-looking street lamps that you walked under on your date night lined the streets. Everyone knew each other in this town and the two biggest things in town were the Walmart and the hospital.

When you walked into the coffee shop, Ben was already there. He was sitting at a table in the corner facing the door. His dark green polo contrasted with his strawberry-blond beard and hair quite nicely, making him quickly noticeable. He was sitting casually cross-legged, reading the newspaper. Yet, you could tell by the way his eyes crinkled that he could see over the top of the paper and knew you had arrived. As you approached the table, he folded the paper and placed it down on the table. Rising to greet you, he hugged you.

You relaxed into his embrace, the feeling of the warmness of his body mixing with his cologne was becoming something you craved. He bought you a coffee of your choice and another for himself.

The conversation lasted for hours and you two were able to pick up right where you left off on Wednesday. You noticed that Ben seemed more relaxed and easygoing, but he would still do that thing where he would square his jaw or tense up when he seemed to be too chatty. Yet, at the same time, he seemed to be aware of this and it almost seemed like he was actively working to not do it, to be more…open.

Growth…effort…. mindfulness…those were positive things. It pleased you to muse that he was aware of his little quirk and that he could be trying to work on it. It was the one thing that would make Ben even more attractive than he already was, mentally and physically.

After hours of nonstop conversation, your stomach growled, halting the conversation. A deep blush slowly overcame your cheeks as your eyes diverted to the floor quickly.

“I’m so sorry, I guess I was more hungry than I realized...It’s been a long day and I only ate breakfast.” You mumbled.

Chucking Ben checked his watch. “No apologies necessary. Although I do apologize for my lack of manners, it’s past 6 o’clock, I’ve kept you out all afternoon…I’ve yammered on…”

He looked at you, his Caribbean blue eyes full of concern as he looked you over as if he had made a grave mistake.

“No! Don’t be silly…I honestly was having such a good time, I didn’t notice ....It was time well spent.”

Softening, he gave you a half smile. “May I take you to dinner then? There’s this great Asian restaurant down the street from the college and I’m in the mood for some Pad Thai…”

That crooked smile he gave you could tempt you to jump off a bridge with him if he asked you to….saying “yes” to dinner was far easier….

“Only if you let me pay…You paid for the coffee and you paid for dinner on Wed. While I appreciate, and enjoy the fact that your gentleman, I’d like to reciprocate as this relationship will be one of equality…After all, my feelings and intentions for you are mutual.”

His eyes somehow became bluer, as if they were electrified. Leaning in forward, so close that he took up your whole vision, he whispered, “...I guess if it is mutual…I can allow it this one time…” He kissed your forehead as he leaned closer.

Catching your breath from the butterflies he had sent surging through your system, you hadn’t noticed that he had been up and on his feet. You turned to find him with his hand extended, “shall we?”

- - - - - - - -

How you had overslept the next morning, you didn’t know. You swore you had set your alarm the night before, but for some reason, you had slept right through it.

Then again, that was unlike you….maybe it never went off?

“Did I forget to set it all together?”

Dinner with Ben had been a lovely continuation of your coffee date. You had been on cloud 9 when you came home and went to bed so it is a possibility that you forgot.

“Well, it doesn’t matter now.” You huffed jumping out of bed.

Frantically brushing your teeth and trying to dress at the same time, you threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with the bookstore’s logo on it. Normally you would try to look a bit nice for work, but this morning, anything would do.

Grabbing an empty travel mug from the kitchen cabinet, you resigned yourself to the fact that the little pot you kept in the stock room for emergencies would have to do for today.

Making sure Cole had plenty of food and water, you locked up and dashed out to the garage.

Opening the car door, you all but threw your stuff in the passenger seat as you jumped in.

Turning the keys in the ignition, you heard a “clunk” sound.

A wave of dread washed over you like ice water.

In an attempt to not panic, you tried to turn the key in the ignition again. But the same “clunk” sound was made no matter how hard you turned the key…almost as if the car was coughing in protest, refusing to start.

“No, no, no, no, no….” You panicked as you tried to turn the key again, but it was to no avail.

Flopping back against the seat, you slammed your fist on the steering wheel in exasperation.

This was not what you needed right now. Sales at the store were just enough to keep the door open and although you didn’t like to show it, you were barely getting by. Not showing up at all, on a Saturday. no less, unannounced would not only hurt your overall bottom line, but you would hope it wouldn’t damage the store’s reliable reputation.

Who knew how much this car trouble was going to cost?

Even worse, how were you going to pay for it?

Your eyes pursed shut as you held back tears….

It would work out…it always did…you always made it work and you weren’t about to give up now.

Getting out of the car, you took some calming breaths as you centered yourself.

Pacing in the small garage, you tried to seek out the situation.

The car was fairly new…only about five…maybe six years old at the most…so it couldn’t be too bad of a problem….right?

You’d need to call a tow truck to send it to the repair shop.

Ignoring the sinking feeling at the prospect of another payment, you tried to think of where to send the car.

The dealerships always charged top dollar, and even on your best day you couldn’t afford top dollar, so you usually sent it to a local body shop in town.

“It really is not my day today….” You sighed as you leaned against the black car, resting your head on your arm against the vehicle.

The mechanic shop you had used since college had gone out of business. The sweet old couple that ran it had retired and moved to Boca….

Smiling fondly, you remembered Jim and Barbra. Jim had been a mechanic since he was 17 and specialized in American cars (you drove a Ford) and his wife, Barb, had run the front of the garage; doing the billing and paperwork, answering phones, and handling customers.

Jim was a good mechanic and never screwed his customers like some mechanics do, especially young college girls. And, because you were always a favorite customer of theirs, they usually gave you a slight discount on whatever you needed.

“Whelp ... .Unless I tow this thing to Boca, they can’t help me now.”

You were happy for the elderly couple, they had worked hard and deserved a happy retirement….but as you had realized, they couldn’t help you now….

This led you to your next question, what shop were you sending this to?

Picking one at random made your skin crawl…this was not something that you felt comfortable about, just choosing one at random….

You had once compared it to a pediatrician…would you leave your child in the care of just any old doctor? Heck no…just because it was certified to treat the baby didn’t mean that was the one you wanted to treat your baby.

Maybe you could call Paisley or the girls? See who they used.

Checking your phone, you realized the time.

Huffing, you shot Paisley a quick text, as you realized this had messed up your whole day. She usually did her own thing on Saturdays, so who knows where she was or what she was up to.

The clock on your phone teased you. Not only did you miss out on any potential morning customers, but you might not be able to get to work at all today…or any other day until you got your car back.

Then there was your next date with Ben, you were going to have to call him and either let him know that you were going to be late because you needed to call an Uber or ask him for a ride.

As you played with the phone in your hands, you thought back to Ben…hopefully, he won’t think you were making this up.

What was the likelihood that your car would actually die on a day that you were supposed to meet up for another date…that didn’t look good at all.

“WAIT!” you shrieked as if suddenly hit by a bolt of realization…”Didn’t Ben say that one of his roommates was a mechanic?!”

“Yes! Yes, he had at dinner the other night!”

Desperation overruled nerves. Normally you would have had major butterflies and a dry mouth for a phone call with Ben, especially this early in the relationship, but this took precedence.

Surprisingly, he picked up after one ring.

“Hey Emma!” Ben’s crisp British accent came through on the other line clear as day and normally it would have sent you off into dreamland…but instead, it surprisingly evoked a sense of security and comfort.

“Ben?” You said a little more hesitantly than you would have liked to.

“Emma, Is that you? Emma, what’s wrong? Are you alright?”

You heard a chair slide across the floor as if he was standing up suddenly and his voice sounded alert, his tone ready; as if he could spring to your location through the phone lines to help if you needed him to.

“It is, it's me. I’m sorry to bother you in the morning, Ben…”

“No, that’s alright. Is everything okay, you sound….panicked?”

Panicked…that was a good word to describe the situation.

“Kind of…” You chuckled. “Again I am sorry to bother you but I was running late to the store and when I went to leave the house…well, I can’t start my car and I need a mechanic ... .Your roommate is a mechanic right?”

Ben’s breath slowed and seemed to relax.

“Yes, Anakin is a mechanic, I can arrange to have him look at it, I’m assuming if you can’t get it started then you need to have it towed, right?”

Breathing a sigh of relief, you let out a small giggle. Of course, he anticipated your needs and was one step ahead. Multiple interactions with this man had led you to expect nothing less. “Yeah…I can’t get it started at all, so that would certainly help.”

“Alright, hang tight. I’m grabbing my keys now and I’ll be over. I’ll call Anakin at the garage and have him send a truck to pick it up and then we can follow it to the garage…”

“No, no that’s okay, I can always get an Uber, I don’t want to inconvenience you…”

Ben let out a “pft” sound as you heard him shut a door. “Nonsense, it is no trouble at all really…I’ll be there in 15…”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Ben arrived before the tow truck did and you didn’t know it until it happened, but you were grateful.

As he jumped out of his car, he was by your side unnaturally quickly…

But that didn’t matter…you just must have not been paying enough attention to him.

Despite your self-warnings about falling for him too quickly, you practically threw your arms around him as he approached you…and he didn’t hesitate to reciprocate.

You could Ben grip you closer and the scratchiness of his beard as he nuzzled himself into your neck. The way your breathing regulated and the relaxation that washed over you memorizing.

If the tow truck hadn’t pulled up to ruin the moment, you weren’t sure you’d ever let go of him…the pull toward him from inside of you was almost magnetic, you wanted to just touch him all the time.

As if time moved in slow motion, your eyes darted between watching the tow truck park and your car in the garage.

Should you take charge? Would that be appropriate because this was Anankin’s associate and Anakin was Ben’s roommate? Would Ben be offended if you took point? He is old-fashioned but does that mean he’s the macho type…the kind of guy whose all “let the men handle this darling…”.....that would be a letdown…..right?

Glancing at you briefly, Ben nonchalantly leaned in and whispered, “Would you like to handle this or may I?”

Most macho men would just jump in and start barking orders, taking charge like some “he-man” but just like that Ben had asked you what you preferred of him like he heard your internal dilemma … and it boosted the already high score that he held with you.

Because he asked, you were okay with him jumping in; you did call him for assistance after all.

“Considering it’s Anakin’s garage we’re going to and you called for the truck, it would make sense for you to take point.”

He smiled.”...That and I know the driver…” Winking, he gave your forehead a kiss, his trademark move thus far. Turning to the driver who was jumping out of the truck, he gave a wave. “Jessie! How are yeh?” He exclaimed as he started walking over to the gentlemen in greasy overalls. He had a wide smile and a buzzed haircut, his chestnut hair barely covering a tattoo of wheel cog on the side of his head.

- - - - - - - - -

Anakin’s garage wasn’t that far from your shop, just a couple of streets over. On a warm day like today, all the bay doors were open, allowing the sunlight to pour into even the tiniest crevices.

Sounds of a summer day in the city, birds chirping, the rustling of a light breeze, conversational chatter from the people passing by on foot, the humm of car engines, all mixed with the sounds of the shop; Anakin’s stereo, machinery, and the sound of Ben’s delicious British accent.

Anakin was exactly what you expected him to be. He was tall with hazel eyes and thick wavy hair that was on the longer side, not quite the neat and conservative look Ben wore. Leaning his hip against the counter, he held an olive green office phone to his ear. Grease and dirt were somehow visible on his black t-shirt and dark-wash jeans.

He was in a room off to the garage that appeared to be an office, as the only things around him were two old desks, a bunch of filing cabinets, a computer, and some chairs. Large windows offered a view into the bays where the cars were serviced, which is how he noticed you and Ben.

“Yeah, they just walked in now.” He said with a sly smile into the phone. “I gotta go, I’ll call you later babe. Love you.”

Hanging up the receiver, he bounced off the wall, and practically sprang forward toward you and Ben, like a puppy excited to find his master had returned.

Despite Ben’s wide smile and head nod, you noticed that he had wrapped his around the small of your back and that his hand was resting on your hip, almost as if claiming his territory ... .or protecting you from some unknown threat.

“EMMA!” Anakin exclaimed. “I’ve heard so much about you! Ben hasn’t shut up about you since your date Wed. night!”

Glancing at Ben, whose grip had tightened around you the closer his roommate got, was a shade lighter than his hair color. But you found Anakin’s antics good-natured.

“It’s great to finally meet you!” Anakin practically grabbed you out of Ben’s grip and lifted you off your feet into a bear hug.

A few things struck you all at the same time. Firstly, Anakin’s skin temperature was as hot as Ben’s, which was odd to begin with. You could chalk it up to Ben just running hot but two people, un-biologically related both having that same quirk ... .no…that was weird ... .Secondly, Anakin’s bear hug nearly crushed you, it was as if he had the strength of Hercules. Thirdly, his physique was ripped with model good looks ... ..the chiseled body, strong jaw, tall, broad-shouldered, and a face that would make any girl swoon…again…like Ben….

How is it that they all have these qualities?…..it was that little voice in the back of your head that wouldn’t quit nagging you about the weird things that Ben did or how fast you were falling for him…

It didn’t go over your head though that Anakin mentioned that Ben couldn’t stop talking about you.

Coughing, you tried to speak despite being crushed. “It’s….g..great to meet….yo….you too…Ana…”

From behind you, Ben coughed. “I think you’ve made your point Anakin. You're happy to meet her, put her down before she suffocates.”

Placing you on your feet, you felt the air surge into your lungs again. Ben was by your side again when you caught your bearings.

Shrugging his shoulders playfully, Ananakin gave you a crooked smile. “...Sorry….”

“It’s okay, I am equally as excited to meet you as well. Ben has told me so many great things about you and the rest of your household. You guys are like brothers.”

A puppy was what you quickly began to associate Anakin with. His large eyes and overly expressive features were entertaining and adorable.

A bashful smile overcame the mechanic. “Aw well, he speaks highly of me ... .in front of company it seems like...well….You should see him when I don’t follow orders….”

“Anakin!” Ben hissed through gritted teeth. The sharp command made the two of you jump to attention.

Catching himself, he coughed; clearing his throat. Doing that thing where he visibly relaxes, he dropped his shoulders and loosened his grip on you.

“The car, Anakin….have you had a chance to look at it?”

The tension in the room dropped by a thousand.

Letting out a breath, Anakin tilted his head back toward the nearest bay. “Yeah, it got here about 10 mins ago…Just finished before you got here.”

Walking towards your car, which now had its hood popped with a light hanging under the hood.

“According to the computer reading…” Anakin leaned in…” and my own diagnostic testing…” He bumped your shoulder playfully. “It seems to be the starter, it looks like it is blown. On top of that some general maintenance stuff… needs some new spark plugs and your fluids need to be topped off…How often do you get this car maintenance?”

Your stomach felt like it dropped out from inside of you and hit the floor. “When I can afford it or if it is necessary.” You murmured.

“Yeah, it shows.” Anakin chuckled.

“Anakin.” Ben glared at him.

“Sorry...I just get passionate about cars…” the roommate apologized.

“ ‘s okay….How much is all this going to cost.”

Anakin’s lips tightened. “With parts and labor….around a thousand bucks….”

You unintentionally sucked in a breath and you felt your heart stop beating. There was no way with everything you had going on and how the store was barely hanging on you would be able to afford this.

Unbeknownst to you, the two men exchanged a look and nodded.

“But since your family, it’s all good.”

Ben’s eyes clamped shut and his jaw squared as your eyes darted between the two.

“No, no I couldn’t…..I don’t take charity…and I’m not family.”

“Well not yet, but you are dating family, and in this pack family doesn’t pay for car maintenance.”

“Pack?” You questioned at the same time Ben said, “We aren’t officially dating yet, but thanks for beating me to the punch Anakin,” though his tone was still strong and warning.

Ignoring your question about his usage of the term “pack,” Anakin chose to respond to Ben’s comment. “Well whatever you two want to call it, you’re associated with one another, and your family Ben, so all of his privileges extend to you, Emma.” His tone was exasperated as he shrugged his shoulders and threw his hands in the air.

You shook your head back and forth.“Still ... .I can’t accept that, it’s not fair to you ... .you deserve to get paid for your work, same as if I was any other client… and I wasn’t looking for handouts when I called, I was looking for consistency and accountability.”

“How about a compromise,” Ben interjected. “A no-interest payment plan that Emma can make at her leisure. That way…” He turned to look at you, “Emma doesn’t feel like we are doing her a favor, and,” he turned to Anakin, “Anakin gets paid for his work and gets to keep his “helping out family policy” and everyone wins.”

His eyes darted back and forth between you two.

“Deal!” You exclaimed so fast you startled them.

Taking a sigh of defeat, Anakin bobbed his head. “I guess it’s fair ... .alright….fine…but you have to take a loaner car at no cost.”

You chuckled, “That's definitely a deal then because I don’t think I could afford it even if I wanted to at this point...”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The paperwork had been drawn up, a rental car had been chosen and Anakin was currently on the computer ordering the parts for your car.

You and Ben were walking towards the back of the lot, to where Anakin kept the few loaners he had. You had gone with the small silver Toyota…nothing special but it would be more than what you needed.

The silence between you and Ben had been somewhat awkward, after Anakin’s antics. You knew he meant well, but you weren’t sure of how Ben felt.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he pursed his lips. “I apologize about Anakin…He means well but he can't be a lot to handle.”

“That’s okay, I found him rather charming…And I appreciate all of his help…I wouldn’t be able to do this with anyone else…which reminds me…Thank you for your help and for stepping in and helping me compromise with Anakin…I would have been really upset if I couldn’t pay in some way…I don’t like handouts or people feeling like I’m a charity case…”

You started to blush in frustration…You tended to get passionate when explaining your independence Ever since your parents died, you did your best to maintain fierce independence, you were no one's little orphan who needed help and had to be felt sorry for.

Ben chuckled.

“I understand completely…and if I’m being honest…I admire your strength and your ability to care for yourself, to take control when you have to….it is….” His eyes darted between you and the ground as he shuffled his feet awkwardly, “...truthfully, it's a turn on…”

Smiling broadly, you grabbed his hand. “Thank you, I appreciate the honesty…and I like that it turns you on that I’m not some helpless fairy princess who waits around for others to come and save them…most men can’t handle strong women…”

Linking fingers with you, he gave your hand a small squeeze. “I’m not like most men…”

Stepping in closer, you kissed him on the cheek. Ben was completely surprised by the action but he handled it well.

“I know we were originally supposed to be on a date right now…but…would you like to come over tomorrow night? I know we have been seeing each other a lot this week…but if we’re spilling secrets today….I really like you, I enjoy your company…like a lot… and I’m interested in moving things in a serious direction…. if you are…How does dinner at my place and maybe a movie interest you?”

Ben’s ocean-colored eyes practically glowed. “Causal enough for a third date but definitely moving things forward…” He chuckled. “I would very much like that, but only if I can bring dessert.” He winked.

“Perfect.” You winked back.

“Good…Because I am interested in moving things forward with you, I’m glad Anakin did not scare you off, I was planning on asking you to officially start dating if we had originally gone out today…”

You did everything you could not to squeal with excitement and giggle at the old-fashioned terminology…then again, saying boyfriend and girlfriend at your age did feel a little immature. Was there anything more mature to call it? Something you contemplate later.

“Not even close, you’ll have to do a lot more than that to get rid of me, mister…Nothing would make me happier than to be attached to you…”

“Nor as happy as I would be to attach myself to you….You are an amazing woman, Emma.” His British accent made you feel like you were in one of those romantic movies you desperately loved.

Leaning closer to him you whispered, “I love the way my name sounds when you say it.”

With his free hand, he cupped your cheek. “Then I hope I get to say it every day to you.”

Molten hot lava seemed to coarse through your lower belly as gently pulled in your first kiss. Your free hand gripped his shoulder as you sighed into the kiss. His beard ticked your lips and cheek as you felt his tongue dart against your lips. You could tell he didn’t have much practice, but he certainly wasn’t disappointed….besides…you looked forward to teaching an old dog new tricks.

@sillynilly27 @nanagoswife @transcending-time @thewhitedannimal @kirstenvldfan21 @the-clones-and-me @hugmekenobi @naughtyry @nicole-lightfoot @janebby

#Obi-Wan Kenobi #obi wan kenobi #obi wan #obi #obi-wan #obi-wan kenobi fanfic #Obi-wan Kenobi X Reader #obi wan star wars #obi wan x reader #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi-wan kenobi x you #Ben Kenobi

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eirianerisdar · 2 years

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The first fic that comes to your mind for question 3!!

Thanks for the ask!

3: What's your favourite line of narration?

I don't have one particular line, but I am partial to a section in The Rain Curtain, where Obi-Wan encounters rain for the first time a decade into his exile on Tatooine.

In response, the deluge roars into a sheer torrent, slamming into the sand-sea in perfect tiny impacts of silver needles on hungry dunes. Obi-Wan tears off his cloak with shaking fingers and is instantly soaked through, wonderful chilled moisture running down his coarsened beard and through his tattered tunics, limning his lightsaber with silver and his palms with liquid crystal. He rips his boots and stockings off and throws them down beside his abandoned cloak; the first step of his bare feet onto rain-sodden sand is a relief so pure and unimaginable that he nearly weeps again. A memory rises from the locked-away depths of his mind, of tiny feet pattering on the muddy banks in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, of orange webbed fingers in one of his hands and a human one in the other, three young shouts rising into the air as they dive into the cool current of the river. Mischief, joy, and glorious childhood. Obi-Wan is alone here, but he shouts anyway, throwing himself into the downpour. It is a shout that has been kept within him for ten long years; the howling remnant of You were my brother, the raw unending syllable at the end of I loved you. He wonders if he looks like a madman; mad Ben Kenobi, wizard of the shifting sands.

That particular section was the culmination of Obi-Wan's relationship with the Force developed over the fic with rain as a central motif. He struggled with his path in the Force and served with loyalty in turn, but there on Tatooine, it is what he needed most - safety, joy, and a reminder he is not alone. The light in the darkness.

Ask me a fic writer ask!

#star wars #obi-wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi #star wars fanfic #obi-wan kenobi fanfic #the rain curtain #replies #writing #fanfic #kenobi

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nageill · 1 year

Text

Grieving is Normal

Fandom: Star Wars, pre-The Phantom Menace.

Character(s): Obi-Wan Kenobi; Korre Ver (OC).

Pairing(s): None.

Word Count: 910.

Genre: Angst.

Summary: There is more than one way to lose a friend. Two Jedis, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Korre Ver, learn the hard way.

Author’s Notes: Just a little something I wrote up for @koiwrites, based on a random idea I had from our timeline with our Star Wars roleplays.

Cross-Posted: AO3.

Emotions were a natural part of life, and despite the popular opinion of Jedi throughout the galaxy, they were natural to the Jedi as well. They were not immune to emotions; they experienced them as well. They are not living statutes, cold and emotionless like a simple rock. No, they feel. If anything, Korre believes, they feel too much. With the Force, it is impossible to be connected to it and not experience every emotion that exists.

The Jedi simply do not dwell on it. They do not wallow, allow themselves to drown in them, or be consumed by them. They experience them and let go. That is the teaching of the Jedi. It is healthier to do so rather than to bottle them up inside, to try and deny them completely, less to fall into temptation from the Dark Side, either from lack of compassion or being controlled by them.

Therefore, the heartache the young Twi’lek is currently feeling is only natural. She has suffered a loss. Grieving is normal. She can experience this emotion and let go. Still, it is painful in the present moment.

Ris could not have left more than ten minutes ago, and yet, it felt like an hour to her breaking heart. The news of the young Jedi Knight leaving the Order caught Korre by surprise. Of all the news she expected to hear, this was certainly not it. She knows such a decision has not come lightly to her friend, however, and she must hold fast to the belief that the Force is guiding her elsewhere. That is where Korre finds her comfort, even among her tears. The Force is still with Ris, it will protect Ris and guide her even outside the Temple walls.

Still, she cannot say that she will not miss her friend all the same.

It is only when another approaches that interrupt her thoughts and tears.

“Korre, what is the matter?” Obi-Wan asked with a slight, worried frown, concerned.

“Oh, Kenobi,” Korre greeted him, wiping her eyes and taking a calming breath before lowering her hands to see him. She bowed her head slightly in greeting, weakly smiling at him. “I will be alright. I’m just missing Ris. It was so sad to see her leave.”

However, her friend’s laughter only confused Korre. She would have expected out of everyone here at the Temple, Obi-Wan would miss their comrade the most. “Don’t fret,” he began, “The diplomatic missions Ris and Master Coul go on never take too long.” He grinned, thinking that would reassure her. “She’ll be back and making sweet-sand cookies for your younglings before you know it.”

“Diplo—No. She’s not…” Her voice trailed off as realization hit her. “Obi-Wan, Ris hasn’t left for a mission. She’s leaving the Order,” she gently explained. “You…didn’t know?”

His blue eyes widened in shock. “What? What do you mean she’s leaving the Order??” Obi-Wan demanded, his voice growing much louder so quickly, a twinge of panic to his tone.

What could have happened? Ris was the most rule-abiding Padawan and Knight the Temple probably ever had! What could she have done to be forced to leave the Jedi Order? The very thought that she would have voluntarily resigned from the Order, so soon after being promoted to a Jedi Knight, did not even cross his mind.

“I do not know. She did not tell me what prompted her to leave, only that she felt it was what she must do. Master Coul is returning her back to her family’s home back on Naboo today,” Korre explained calmly. She felt guilty breaking the news to Obi-Wan this way. Ever since they were crechemates, Obi-Wan and Ris shared a close bond. Why hadn’t Ris told him? Perhaps she could not find him, but still, it seemed so unlike her friend not to personally tell Obi-Wan she resigned.

“What prompted–she’s choosing to leave?” Obi-Wan sputtered, almost stammering.

The green Twi’lek nodded, a slight frown tugging at her lips. “That is my understanding, yes,” she confirmed. She did not need to sense through the Force to know her friend was hurt, upset. No, the intense emotion radiated from Obi-Wan like steam.

“Where is she?”

“She told me goodbye just before you came. I believe she might–”

However, Korre did not get a chance to finish answering his question before Obi-Wan was running out towards the landing pad. She hoped he wasn’t too late…

A hope which was dashed when Obi-Wan sulkily returned not even ten minutes later.

Disappointment, sadness, confusion, and anger burned brightly off his aura as he walked past her. Korre’s heart now ached for him as well. As much as she cherished her own friendship with Ris, she knew Obi-Wan hurt even worse.

“Kenobi!” she called after him, and he stopped, turning to look back as she crossed over to him and hugged him. “I’m sorry,” she murmured quietly, not able vocally expressed the depth of her concern but communicating it through the Force.

Obi-Wan at first tensed from the sudden embrace, too wrapped up inside his own head to fully appreciate or welcome the gesture, but he quickly relaxed. There was a comfort in his friend’s arms, a deep sense of understanding and empathy that, while it did not extinguish the flurry of emotions he felt right now, it did help to temper the pain. He hugged her back, perhaps a little too tightly. “Me, too,” he mumbled. “Me, too.”

#fandom: star wars #Star Wars fanfic #Obi-Wan Kenobi fanfic #Jedi fanfic #Ephiny writes #Grieving is Normal #muse: Korre Ver #muse: Ris Daibhéid #(Still tagging Ris since it deals with the rps I've written with Koi's Obi-Wan)

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maes-flowers · 2 years

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For them, for us (Obi-wan Kenobi x reader)

Summary: Following the Kenobi series, two former Jedi masters Obi-wan Kenobi and Y/n Marilla are grieving the lost of Anakin, Padme, and the jedi purge. After pledging to watch over Luke Skywalker and spending ten years in exile, and making a life together what will happen when the mistakes they made in their past come back as a new threat?

Authors note: I had to repost cause I wasn't showing up in any tags lol but if you like this story and want to be added to the taglist let me know down below!

Warnings: Very clear signs PTSD (panic attack, nightmares, and hypervigilance) arguments, violence, some fluff, and I think that's it

Prologue

You hated nighttime.

Especially the nights you would shoot yourself out of bed in the middle of the night due to your mind reliving memories you wished would leave you. But the war, the screaming, the bloodshed, and the mistakes you've made in the past haunted you and every breath you took.

Your chest heaved as you blinked rapidly, your eyes adjusting to being open as you took in your surroundings. The small and familiar hut in a cave provides a soothing comfort as you sit on the small bed you shared with Obi-wan. Your hair toppled down your shoulder grazing your bare arms as you shuddered from the cold desert air blowing in creating goose bumps to appear on your skin.

You closed your eyes again for a moment but images from your nightmare came quickly flowing back.

You hated the nights you couldn't fall back asleep even more.

Sighing, you lifted the blanket from your body and stood up. Your back popping as you stretch the sleep away from your muscles. Looking down you stared at the sleeping man below. who had been knocked out cold after a day in the sun before you got home from your own job.

“At least one of us gets a nice night of sleep.” you whispered quietly.

You grabbed your shawl from the floor and draped it over your shoulders, you weren't sure what time it was but you knew it was way too early for you to be awake. You stood awkwardly in the middle of the place, unsure of what to do. Your options for entertainment are already limited on any other day, but even more so when your overworked husband was sleeping a mere few feet away.

Until your eyes landed on the large metal pool you kept in the corner of the cave. You stared at it in thought, it was early so you'd be safe from anyone witnessing you and be safe from Obi-wan's scolding if you were to practice right now.

While Obi-wan had completely sealed himself from the force, you still kept in touch with it much to Obi-wan’s disappointment. Although not as much as your younger self did but enough to keep you occupied a few nights a week if you were lucky. From practicing small mind tricks on animals, levitating objects around your small home, and last but not least practicing your lightsaber skills.

With a mental stick you had managed to steal from a scraper site since your actual lightsaber was buried deep in the sands of Tatooine.

You slid on your boots and grabbed the pole and headed outside giving one more glance to Obi-wan's sleeping form as you stepped away.

Tatooine had no moon on the planet, but instead had two suns so it never truly became fully dark. Which had made sleeping even more of a task than it already was before having to keep scraps of fabric on any possible crevice light could come in. at least it was convenient on the nights you sneak out.

You never moved too far from the entrance to your home, always keeping the place in your line of sight. After an incident where you strayed too far from the cave and didn't hear or see Obi-wan come up behind you resulting in you slamming the pole right into his stomach you promised you wouldn't let that happen again.

Twirling the pole in your hand, you did a couple practice swings in the air, stretching your muscles in your shoulders and arms warming your body up. the weight was heavy in your hand as you began to move. Your mind went to your master, Stass Allie as you went to strike your imaginary enemy. The stern but kind woman had specialized in force healing but also was one of the best lightsaber duelists you've ever seen and was the main reason you were the Jedi you were. You had hoped dearly that she had made it out alive when order 66 was implemented.

You shook your head to get rid of the thought as your body went on autopilot. You grunted as you threw the pole and quickly brought it back with the force. You kept your breath low and steady as you got on your knees, your body performing the moves that allowed you to attack a person's legs before rolling back up, switching the pole in your opposite hand as you turned around quickly, redoing the stances of basic lightsaber forms again. Getting used to the unbalance of attacking with your nondominant hand.

You smiled at the familiar feeling, you felt like you again even for just a brief moment as you pretended you were back in the temple and your and your friends lives weren't ripped apart by the empire.

You had to give up your actual name in public places, opting for ‘Kilian’ to avoid anyone connecting the dots of your identity, leaving your home on Coursant, and getting rid of your saber. And although you would do it again if it meant protecting the twins and being with Obi-wan, you would be lying if you said you felt like you lost a huge part of yourself. You gritted your teeth and slammed the pole right into a rock, metal bending awkwardly to the right when you staggered away.

“Y/n.” a voice you very quickly recognized as Obi-wans called out to you, dropping the bent makeshift weapon you looked over at him.

Expecting the usual look of disappointment, all you found was worry.

You panted from the exertion, you sat down on a small rock and hung your head between your legs.

“Stupid pole.” You heaved, not enjoying the slight twinge of pain in your hip. “What are you doing up?” you asked.

“The same reason you're awake, I assume.” Obi-wan sighed

You heard the sound of boots grazing the rocks on the ground, keeping your eyes low until the man in front of you kneeled down in front of you.

“Bad night?” he asked.

“Bad night.” you echoed pathetically.

Slowly looking up you came eye to eye with Obi-wan, his hand coming up and pressing into the tender muscle of your hip. You groaned at the feeling and leaned forward until your head planted on his chest, thankful he knows you well enough to do the small action without asking.

“Kriff, I love you, do you know that?” you said, relaxing at the small massage his large hands gave you, you moaned softly at the relief of the knot coming undone.

“I have a faint idea.” he mumbled, his hands leaving your hip and opting to grab your hand, his fingers running over the small band around your finger. Although you and Obi-wan never got officially married, you both had made rings soon after you arrived on Tatooine and called it good enough. No one else needed to know besides you two anyway.

“Did you have a nightmare?” he asked, you looked up from his chest and shrugged as if it was no big deal.

“Ah you know, just the usual.” you said, “I'm assuming you did as well?”

Obi-wan looked down, his sheltered reaction confirming the obvious.

“Glad to see nothing has changed in the Kenobi household.” you joked sadly, although you enjoyed the small laugh the man let out. He looked up at you, and you pushed the longer copper strands away from his eyes.

Obi-wan truly hasn't changed too much in the last ten years, the mullet he sported years before had returned and his beard had grown a tad longer. With some fine lines around his eyes, most likely due to the powerful rays of two suns and the constant squinting during the mid afternoon as he worked outside. He still remained the unfairly handsome man you met decades ago in your eyes.

“Quit judging the old man.” he said, you gasped at that and jokingly pulled at the roots of his hair lightly, smirking at the quiet groan he let out under your grip.

“I'm not! I'm admiring you and plus you only have five years on me.” you said, running your hands down until each one was on each side of his jaw. You leaned forward and kissed him, happily accepting Obi-wan's grip returning to your hip as you deepened the kiss. He gave you a few more moments before he reluctantly pulled away.

“Come back to bed,” Obi-wan said, you sighed at the thought of going back to the nightmares.

“I know, I feel the same way but I know you work tomorrow and you need some sleep.” Obi-wan said, already noticing your apprehension to the idea.

You just nodded in defeat, you knew he was right. You worked at the local tavern in the town and although you didn't go to work early you worked late often.

You stood up and grabbed the pole, Obi-wan following beside you as you both walked back home.

As the two of you laid back down, you reached for Obi-wan as you curled up under his larger frame, tucking your head under his chin.

“Tomorrow morning, you think we can go check up on Luke?” you asked, sleep already reclaiming your mind. “It's been a few weeks since I was able to go with you.” your voice trailed off at the end, letting your eyes fall shut.

“Of course, Love.” Obi-wan said, but he received soft snores in response.

🖾

You and Obi-wan sat silently on the small mountain that overlooked the Lars residence, it had been weeks since you had come with Obi-wan to do your weekly check in on him. You were catching up on sleep from the unruly schedule your job had from work and your insomnia. In result, you slept in late today as well, having to take the very, very old speeder bike you managed to buy off one of your regulars for a good deal to meet up with Obi-wan who had left an hour before. The two of you both held binoculars to your eyes as you watched Luke run away from his chores.

“Where is that kid going?” you mumbled to yourself, watching Owen Lars stop what he was doing and looked for Luke.

You watched as Obi-wan scanned the larger area surrounding their home, but you kept your eyes on the side of the house. Chuckling at the sight of Luke climbing onto the roof and sliding goggles over his head.

Your smile dropped as you then saw him act like he was podracing, you put down the binoculars and watched in disbelief. That was the most Anakin-like thing you've ever seen the kid do, and you wouldn't be lying if you said that the sight alone did not punch a hole of grief into your stomach.

“Wow.” you mumbled, looking over at your husband as he slowly lowers his own binoculars.

Obi-wan stayed silent as he started ahead. You wish you knew what he was thinking at that moment of seeing the spitting image of his friend. You were about to comfort him but heard you watch beep at you and you cursed, quickly standing up. You dusted off your pants as you grabbed your stuff.

“You need better time management, Starlight.” Obi-wan said, looking up at you. You ignored the way the new nickname turned your face red as you rolled your eyes.

“Ha-ha.” you said displeased, leaning down and kissing his head. “I'll be back later tonight, I love you.”

You stepped toward the cliff edge and peered over, the drop wasn't too far and you could see your bike right below you.

“Why must you insist on taking the most unsafe routes?” Obi-wan chastised, you looked over your shoulder as you crouched down.

“Because it's fun.” and with that you dropped down and landed on the seat of your bike on your feet, the uneven weight making you wobble as you sat down on it properly. You looked up and saw Obi-wan looking over the edge, a small smile on his face as you waved to him and sped off.

🖾

The day after seeing Luke, the Tavern was disgustingly slow. To the point you should've just stayed home since the jobs pay was terrible without tips. You sighed as you closed the bar early, as one of your co-workers told you to just go home.

So when you were walking through town you didn't expect to see Obi-wan and Owen Lars talking to each other. Owen's face was tight with annoyance as you heard his voice the closer you got to them.

“Anakin is dead Ben,” Owen reminded. “And I won't let you make the same mistake twice.”

You sighed, knowing Obi-wan once again pushed the boundary Owen had set with Luke. although you hated it you kept your distance so you avoided situations like this.

“Owen,” you called at, your voice hard. “Let's not go to cheapshots, shall we?” you stopped in front of him. You had seen Owen in town more often than Obi-wan had, as he stopped in once in a while for a drink and something to eat. You had the opportunity to see Luke once with him as well, he reluctantly allowed you to introduce yourself. You knew he was protective of his nephew but you knew Obi-wan was as well.

“I know you care, and I don't hold that against you but you have to understand we are not trying to make him a soldier or anything like that.” you kept your voice low so no one could hear you. “We care about him too, and the sooner you see that the easier this will make everything. Don't forget without us you wouldn't even know that little boy was alive right now so don't directly insult my husband for a tragedy he had no control over.”

Owen just looked at your silence for a moment before he shook his head.

“Leave him on the farm, with his family, where he belongs.” he warned before he walked away.

You sighed and pinched your nose, shaking your head.

“ Why is he so stubborn-” You halted your sentence as you heard the shouts of the villagers.

“Move,” A deep voice rattled. “Move! Get out of the way.”

Your fight or flight activated as you saw the figure in all black armor walk down the street pushing away citizens in their way.

“Behind the wall, go.” Obi-wan hurried, his voice in a quiet rush as the both of you backed against the wall.

“You know why we are here,” a man with a ragged voice announced, his face green contrasting poorly with the black armor. “There is a jedi hiding on this planet and we need to know where he is! Tell us the location and you will be rewarded well.”

“Or you'll be punished!” a woman's voice called out, as she walked down the street. Tall and powerful as she sauntered around the crowd. “Hands go first! That way, when you reach for anything you will think of us.” she warned.

You watched an older woman begin to yell at the inquisitor.

“This is the outer rim!” a woman's voice called out. “You have no rights here.”

You watched as the inquisitor turned to the woman, her hand moving toward her saber. You stepped forward on instinct, your body wanting to help but Obi-wan arm flew out and kept you pushed against the wall.

“Don’t.” he hissed.

The Inquisitor turned on her saber and quickly sliced off the woman's hand, your hand flew to your mouth as the crowd around you gasped at the screaming woman.

“All we want is information!” she yelled circling around the crowd like a predator. “If anyone knows anything about a jedi…” her voice trailed off when she looked at Owen.

“You know something?” she questioned, Owen shook his head.

“What's your name?” she asked, her tone calmer than before.

“Owen,” he said.

“Owen,” she echoed, as if getting used to his name on her tongue. “Farmer, right? Have a wife? A kid?”

“My family’s of no concern for you.” he said, and you wanted to smack him across the face at the attitude.

“Might be, you got a Jedi on that farm too?”

“No.” Owen replied. “I have no love for the jedi, they are vermin and I kill vermin on my farm.”

You began to search for any possible escape routes, heart pounding so hard you could hear it. Owen was going to sell you out.

“You protect your family,” she said, stepping forward and adjusting his vest. “I like that Owen.”

She leaned forward and looked him in the eyes.

“You think you can protect them from me?” she asked.

When Owen said nothing, you almost cried in relief.

“Tell me where the Jedi is, or this man and his family die!” she shouted. You launched forward, but Obi-wan once again shoved you back against the wall.

“Damn it Ben,” you seethed, not even daring letting anyone of those monsters hear his real name right now. “She is threatening Luke!” you whispered.

“The Jedi are cowards! They abandoned you! And you do not need to protect them because they will not do the same for you.” she shouted and looked at Owen. She stepped forward and hovered the blade right in front of his neck. You curled your fists, digging your nails into your palm as you watched Owen stand still, but his face showed fear.

You heard a hand slam down on a crate.

“Enough!” the green man shouted. “If you remember anything, a reward will be given.” he told the crowd.

“Stand down Third sister.” the man warned, you watched her glare and held her blade up. “Now!”

She deactivated her saber and walked away, you waited until they were out of sight before you ripped Obi-wan's arm away and headed toward Owen.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“Yes, I'm fine.” he replied curtly.

“Owen,” you said as quietly as possible. “If I had sensed those people coming I would've told you not to come to town today, I'm so sorry.” you said, the apology sincere. Being able to sense people like that is a large reason you kept your connection to the force in the first place. Owen looked at you and nodded.

“I know.”

You heard Obi-wan come up behind you, his hand grazing your lower back as if you would slip away again.

“Thank you owen.” Obi-wan said, the farmer glared at him.

“I didn't do it for you.” he said distastefully before walking off.

You felt your heart hammer in your chest, if that went any worse and Owen Gave away you and Obi-wan's position you'd be dead right now. You felt bile at the back of your throat as you stepped away from the man behind you and threw up. You didn't want to think of the odd looks you were getting right now as Obi-wan pulled back your hair as you quite literally threw up the adrenaline and fear your body had created in the last ten minutes. Your hands trembled severely as you felt an overwhelming sense of doom fill you, you hadn't been that close to someone so dangerous since the purge and you were not reacting well to it.

Tears began pricking your eyes as you spit on the ground, trying to rid your mouth from the gross taste.

“I cant breathe” you gritted out. “Need somewhere safe.” you gapsed, although your hyperventilating made the words sound choppy and was hard to understand.

You could hear Obi-wan's voice call out to you but you didn't understand what he was saying as your whole body began to tremble and blackspots dab the edge of your vision.

The last thing you remember was the feeling of your body falling forward.

🖾

When your eyes opened again, you felt like a speeder had run you over, your body stiff as you adjusted to the light. You recognized home quickly at the feeling mattress under you, the smell of home and the desert calming your nerves. Using your arms you slowly dragged your body up into a sitting position and began to move your legs to stand up.

“You leave that bed and I will not hesitate to restrain you.” Obi-wan's voice said from behind you, turning around and you saw him hold a wet rag in his hands, coming to sit with you on your guys bed and wiped the cold rag across your head and you sighed at the slight shock against your hot skin, the surprise on your senses proving a nice distraction for a moment.

“You haven't had an attack like that in years.” Obi-wan murmed. “I never get used to them.”

“I'm sorry,” you cringed at the sound of your rough and raspy voice. “I'm so sorry”

You were embarrassed at the way you reacted to everything, you always kept a front and tried to have those moments of sheer fear of your safety in private. Even after all these years there were times like today you felt like you were back in that temple.

“I thought Luke was going to get hurt, and then I assumed Owen would rat us out and I just…” you groaned in frustration. “I can usually keep them at bay until I'm alone. I don't know what happened.” Obi-wan put down the rag and pushed your hair away.

“They still happen?” he asked, a slight tone of disappointment jumped out at you.

You nodded.

“Not Often, like before.” you scratched the back of your neck. “ Now it's just once every few months at most.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” he said and you looked up at him.

“Because sometimes talking about it hurts more.” you admitted. “You of all people should know that.” you took a sip of water from your canteen, pleasantly surprised to see there was no taste of bile.

Did he brush your teeth while you were passed out?

“You're right,” Obi-wan said. “I do know, it's not fair of me to expect you to tell me when I hold myself back as well, I suppose.”

“Yeah well,” you shrugged. “Good thing I like you enough to excuse it.” you said, a small smirk twitching at your lips as Obi-wan rolled his eyes.

Obi-wan pulled you in and kissed you softly, chapped lips slotting perfectly against yours. Shuddering under his touch you wrapped arms around his neck dragging him closer. You went to grab the bottom of his shirt when you heard a loud beeping. You pulled away from him and looked around, searching for the source of the sound.

“What is that?” you asked, looking over at Obi-wan, concern growing when you saw his pale face. He quickly stood up and walked over to the table and pulled a small box from it. You watched in confusion as he clicked open the box and dug around, but soon quickly also paled at the sight of his jedi robes.

Which he kept in the same box he also kept the emergency holoprojector Bail Organa gave you both when he took Leia to Alderan.

You scrambled out of bed and joined him at the table as he grabbed the holoprojector and answered.

“Senator Organa?” Obi-wan asked.

You saw Bail and Breha standing together, Bail's arm wrapped around his wife's shoulder as she cried.

“Obi-wan? Y/n?” he called out, “It's Leia…something has happened.”

You and Obi-wan looked at eachother, your hand grabbing his bicep to ground yourself.

“What happened?” you asked, your anxiety from earlier quickly bubbling up.

“She's gone, we don't know who it was. There was no ransom, no leads but whoever they were, they knew where she would be. They…” Bail cleared his throat.. “They were waiting.”

“She needs you, both of you.” Breha begged. “We can't trust anyone else.”

You were about to respond, kriff you were about to pack a bag and hop on the nearest transport ship and head straight to Alderan but Obi-wan cut you off.

“What about the Senate?” he asked.

You turned and looked at him in disbelief.

“We cannot let this become public, it would draw too much attention.” Bail argued,

“Well what about a guard, or-or a bounty hunter?”

“Obi-wan!” you gasped at your husband, how is he not freaking out about this and being so dismissive.

“Only you two know how important she really is, if she is discovered…” the senator trailed off.

“We cannot leave here, Bail.” Obi-wan said. “Our duty is to the boy.”

“What about your duty to his sister?” Bail spat, but Obi-wan shook his head.

“It's been ten years, I'm not who I used to be.” he explained, and you watched the couple's faces fall. “Find someone else.”

You snatched the projector off the table and held it tight in your hands, Obi-wan looked over at you in surprise. You stepped away when Obi-wan took a step toward you and you backed away faster.

“Stay here!” you snapped. “I can't even-” you didn't bother to finish your sentence as you quickly left the cave, walking far enough so Obi-wan couldnt hear you.

“Bail, get any information about what happened and get on the soonest ship to Tatooine, I can try my best to convince him but the man is so stubborn I'm sure I'll need you too.” you demanded. “Even then if he doesn't agree to go then I'll go by myself.”

Bail nodded in response.

“Don't worry you two. if it's the last thing I do, I'll bring Leia home.” you comforted, tone softer. “I'll see you soon Bail.” and with that you hung up the call.

You sighed and rubbed your face, not excited for the argument that was about to start as soon as you stepped back into the cave.

You put the holoprojector in your pocket and made your way back.

When you stepped into the cave you saw Obi-wan still standing at the table, his arms crossed and looking ahead, angry and worried at the same

“You are being too reckless you know we ca-”

“What was that?” you interrupted, not caring for what he had to say. “The senate? A Bounty hunter!? That little girl is practically our niece and you want some random person to go save her?”

“We cannot leave the boy here alone.”

You glared. “He's not alone and you know that but Leia? She is, and whoever has her could kill her! I know we both think Luke could be force sensitive but what if Leia is too? She's just as important!”

“Do you think I don't know that?” Obi-wan snapped.

“From how you're acting? No I don't!” you exclaimed. “If you're worried about the inquisitors being here then i'll gladly turn myself in to get them to leave this planet if that will give you the incentive to go get her.” you mouth tumbling out the harsh words faster than you can think.

Although you quickly regretted the words when you saw the look of hurt on the man's face, you still continued on.

“What did we agree on when we decided to come here in the first place?” you asked. “For them, not just Luke and not just Leia. protect both of them.”

Obi-wan stayed silent and avoided your gaze.

You grabbed your shawl from the hook on the wall and slid it on.

“Just…sleep on it.” you suggested. “I'm going to go on a walk.” you both needed space from one other.

“I love you.” you called out softly as you left.

~~~~

Neither of you said a word to each other, you watched him leave for work silently. Sitting on the bed, your head rested against your raised knees as you thought about Leia. She had looked so much like her mother when she was first born you wondered if she continued to look like her or even act like her.

You didn't move much that day, your body almost stuck in the position well into the evening, until one of two suns began to descend into the sky and the security system went off. You sat up straight as you saw a shadow grow closer and reached under your pillow grabbing your Vibroblade. A hooded man walked in, and you stood up. Your garud high as you stepped forward.

“Bail?” you called out, the man turned to you and pulled down his hood. You smiled at the sight. Greyer hair and more weight on his form but still Bail Organa.

“Master Y/n.” he said, you raised a brow at the old title.

“Please,” you chuckled lightly, walking up to him. “That is a meaningless name now, y/n is fine.”

Bail shook your hand, his grip tense and clammy. You frowned at the anxious show of the usually level-head man.

“Have you spoken to him?” he asked.

“Yes, last night's discussion was very…unproductive I must say.” you looked at the watch on your wrist. “But Obi-wan should be home soon, I'm hoping you'll have a better chance with him. You're much more coherent with your words than I am.”

“I'm sure you did fine, you were always too hard on yourself dear friend.”

You laughed.

“Yeah well, thankfully I was better with A lightsaber than with politics.”

“You should have not come.” Obi-wan's voice announced.

You and Bail turned around, to see Obi-wan walking in. He gave a stare that screamed ‘Really?’

“She's heading to Daiyu,” Bail started. “They hid their signature behind a freight transport, the ship is on its way there now.”

“I can't.” Obi-wan sighed.

“She's my daughter Obi-wan”Bail begged

“I'm not the man you remember.”

“Well you're going to have to be!” Bail shouted.

“I can't leave the boy Bail!” Obi-wan argued, his gloves hand clenched at his side.

“This isn't about the boy and you know it!” Bail rubbed his forehead, soothing a worry line. “You've made mistakes, we all did. It's in the past…move on and be done with it.” he looked at Obi-wan.“You couldn't save Anakin, but you could save her.”

You watched the conversation anxiously, is that why he was scared? Did he think he'd fail?

You hoped not, or else that argument the night before was going to make you look like a jerk.

“And what if I can't?” Obi-wan asked desperately, pain and insecurity woven into the features of his face.

“There is no one I trust more with my child than you two. So please old friend, one more fight for her.”

Obi-wan stayed silent for a long time, you and Bial stood there patiently waiting for his answer.

“Okay… I'll do it.” he finally relented.

You smiled in relief at that, happy you didn't have to sneak off from him in the middle of the night. You glanced over at Bail and put a hand on his shoulder, trying to give him comfort.

“Go home, go to work like normal and tell no one our names or anything like that . The more kept under wraps the easier on everyone.”

“Whatever you say,” Bail agreed. “Just bring home my daughter.”

You gave him a determined nod watching Obi-wan shake his hand before he pulled back up his hood and leave.

You and Obi-wan both turned to each other, you looked down and cleared your throat thinking about what to say.

“I'm sorry- the two of you spoke at the same time, you chuckled when Obi-wan gestured for you to do first.

“I'm scared too.” you confessed. “No, actually I'm terrified of failing someone who needs my protection like I did back at the temple.” you laughed bitterly as you placed a hand on your chest. “But I can't live with another child's death on my hands, not when I could do something about it” you said, voice wobbling with emotion, Obi-wan frowned and grabbed your hand. “And I know you don't feel like you could be that person to help her after what has happened, but I know you can.” you wiped your eyes with your free hand. “We couldn't save Anakin or Padme, but we can help her and I think we owe that to them.”

“I'm sorry,” Obi-wan pulled you in. “You're right.”

You shoved your face into his chest.

“I'm sorry too.”

🖾

Your boots pounded into the packed sand of the town as you made your way to the transportation station, your hands constantly fidgeting your side to make sure the long v shaped bodice over your shirt crossed over your chest, long fabric draping over your hips and covered your recently retrieved lightsaber strapped to a harness on your thigh.

You felt like yourself again like this, the lightsaber at your disposal and with the former general at your side to the point You almost began to expect people to call you commander again.

You had been a commander with Ahsoka Tano during the war, often working with Obi-wan and his battalion on his flagship when you weren't on Coruscant.

You missed lwhen your biggest issue was hunting down General Grievous and protecting high profile senators.

You were too far in your own thoughts. You didn't notice Obi-wan stop in front of check in, your body slamming into his back and forehead hitting the hard muscle.

“Dank Farrik.” you said, as you stepped over and looked up at the taller man who started down at the ticket in his hand. Hesitance was radiating off of him and your hand laced with his and you gave an encouraging squeeze.

“Well?” the worker impatiently asked. “Are you coming or not?”

He looked down at you and you nodded.

“We can do this,'' you soothed, walking up to the worker and handing her your ticket while Obi-wan followed behind you with your hand intertwined with his, only letting go when you were on the other side waiting for the worker to hand him back his ticket.

The warm metal on your finger gives a stark reminder of how your present self was going right back into the life of someone you haven't been for long you thought that part of you left in the grains of sand ten years ago.

Or maybe, you thought for a moment.

That person never left.

Taglist:

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