#obi-wan kenobi oneshot
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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.
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
#obi-wan kenobi x reader#obi-wan kenobi smut#obi-wan kenobi fanfiction#obi-wan kenobi imagine#obi-wan kenobi fluff#obi-wan kenobi oneshot#obi-wan kenobi one-shot#obi-wan kenobi one shot#obi-wan kenobi headcanon#obi-wan kenobi headcanons#obi-wan kenobi hcs#obi-wan kenobi hc#obi-wan kenobi fan fiction#obi-wan kenobi fanfic#obi-wan kenobi blurb#obi-wan kenobi drabble#obi-wan kenobi dialogue#obi-wan kenobi x y/n#obi-wan kenobi x you
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Star Wars Masterlist
FICS:
Darth Maul:
You - One. 🌶️
Anakin Skywalker:
Is This Love. 🌶️
Obi-Wan Kenobi:
Is This Love. 🌶️
Jango Fett:
Simple Pleasures. 🌶️
Kylo Ren:
Feelings. 🌶️
Headcannons:
Anakin Skywalker:
General Dating. 🌶️
Obi-Wan Kenobi:
General Dating. 🌶️
Armitage Hux:
General Dating. 🌶️
#star wars#star wars x reader#anakin skywalker#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin skywalker imagines#anakin skywalker oneshot#anakin skywalker oneshots#anakin skywalker one shot#anakin skywalker one shots#anakin skywalker smut#obi-wan kenobi#obi-wan kenobi x reader#obi-wan kenobi imagine#obi-wan kenobi imagines#obi-wan kenobi one shot#obi-wan kenobi one shots#obi-wan kenobi oneshot#obi-wan kenobi oneshots#armitage hux#armitage hux x reader#general hux#general hux x reader#general armitage hux x reader#general armitage hux#kylo ren#kylo ren x reader#kylo ren imagine#kylo ren imagines#jango fett
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Marry Me
masterlist
pairing: anakin skywalker x female reader
warnings: kissing, fluff, insecure anakin
summary: anakin proposes to you and your wedding
a/n: lmao this was taken straight from my anakin fic on wattpad but it makes a good oneshot too, on wattpad it is an x oc though
song: perfect - ed sheeran
Anakin and you are in the bedroom of a house that you two were temporarily staying at. Anakin is wearing a long sleeved shirt with the front buttons open.
He sits next to you on the bed and looks down. He frowns at his mechanic hand.
You look at him and see him try to cover the hand, "Ani?"
"Hm?"
"What's wrong? Is it the arm? Is it hurting you?"
"No, love," he kisses your head.
"Well why are you trying to hide it," you frown at him.
"Well, I- do you think it looks bad?"
You then realize that he's insecure about it, your heart hurts.
"Ani," you whisper, "nothing, and I mean nothing, about you is or looks bad. That arm will not change a single thing I feel for you. I think it makes you look strong," you smile.
"But.."
"No buts!" You pick up the mechanical hand, he watches you as you kiss it. You continue to kiss each of the knuckles. His eyes water.
You leave a few more soft kisses on it and gently place it down. You look up at him and wipe his tears. You leave a gentle kiss on his lips, "I love you. No matter what."
"I love you," he hugs you and rests his chin on your head for a moment. He stands up and walks onto the balcony, pulling you with him. He turns to you as you gaze at the unreal sunset.
"Y/n," he whispers. You look at him and he reaches into his pocket. He opens a small box and you look at the most gorgeous ring you have ever seen. "Marry me."
"Ani... I- what about the Jedi?"
"I don't care about that. I love you. You are my life. Marry me," he whispers.
"I'll marry you," tears fall down your face and you smiles. Anakin grabs your left hand and places a kiss on it, he slides the ring on as he looks into your eyes.
He pulls you into a love filled kiss. He kisses you like his life depended on it. Your lips on each other, so perfect it's like they were made for one another.
In a garden on Naboo, there are waterfalls in the back, flowers everywhere, a bright sun, and the air is warm.
There is an archway decorated with the most beautiful flowers and vines. A Naboo holy man stands underneath.
There are three chairs on the grass. Anakin stands under the arch in a suit, nervously looking around.
Then, Padmé walks out with some flower petals, she grins at the nervous boy and winks as she throws some petals into a path. When she's done she takes a seat in one of the chairs.
Next is Artoo and Threepio. Artoo happily bleeps his way down the path with Threepio walking next to him. They get to the holy man and give him the rings. Threepio then takes his seat and Artoo stands next to him.
Lastly, are you with Obi-Wan on your arm.
You are wearing a white wedding gown. It has some very, very, light pastel flowers embroidered onto the skirt. It's made out of a soft and flowy fabric that elegantly drapes over your curves. The dress has an ethereal effect and it has a medium length train. The beautiful layers of the skirt fabric are cascading down like a waterfall.
Your hair is in a stunning, but somewhat loose, bun in the back of her head, you also have flowers in your hair. You have light makeup on with the biggest smile on your face.
Anakin has tears falling down his face at the mere sight of her, he has to bite his lip to stop it from wobbling. He quickly wipes away the tears and swallows nervously.
You get to the end of the aisle and face Anakin. Obi-Wan walks to his seat and sits down. The holy man starts his wedding speech and they get the vows. After they exchange their loving words, they both are crying again. Obi-Wan smiles, he's more than happy for you both, as is Padmé.
"Anakin Skywalker, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"
"I do."
"Y/n L/n, do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"
"I do."
"Repeat after me," the holy man says. "I, Anakin Skywalker, take you Y/n L/n, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."
Anakin repeats the words with a smile.
The holy man turns to you, "I, Y/n L/n, take you Anakin Skywalker, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."
You repeat and then place the ring on Anakin's finger and he places the other on yours.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Anakin grins and pulls you into a kiss as Obi-Wan, Padmé, and Threepio clap. Artoo lets out joyful whistles and bleeps.
You pull apart, and some flower petals gently fall on and around them. Your foreheads are connected for a moment and Anakin whispers, "My darling love, my wife."
#nina writes 🤭💗#anakin skywalker#anakin fluff#anakin skywalker fluff#star wars#star wars fluff#star wars x you#anakin skywalker x you#anakin skywalker x reader#obi wan#obi wan kenobi#anakin skywalker oneshot#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin fanfiction#star wars anakin#star wars fanfiction#star wars oneshot#hayden christensen#hayden christensen x reader#padme amidala#threepio#r2d2#naboo
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Worth Saving
Plot: When you are on a stealth mission in a rebel base, Obi-Wan must listen from a distance. When you are found out, injured and trapped, Obi-Wan races to save you, even when you tell him it's not worth it.
Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Gn!Reader
Prompt: A is alone and hurt badly, they can talk to B through an earpiece/phone. Eventually A stops talking and B thinks they lost them. But they find them alive.
Requested By: Anonymous; this is a really old mystery prompt request lmao
A/n: I don't recall if they've ever even used ear-pieces in Star Wars except for with pilots in their ships, or if they just like...don't exist. But let's pretend they do lol
Warnings: Mild cursing, mentions of blood and death, wounds. Pretty angsty. Lack of a sense of self-worth from reader.
Words: 2.3k
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You tapped on the new piece of hardware hanging over your ear as you walked through the darkened backrooms of the base.
"Is this thing working?" You asked in a hushed tone.
"Yes, I can hear you just fine." You heard Obi-Wan's voice come through with a small amount of static mixed in.
"Oh good, now I can have your voice in my head telling me all the things I do wrong all the time now."
You could almost hear the smirk on Obi-Wan's face at your sarcastic remark before he replied "Perhaps this will stop you from making your impulsive decisions then."
"Don't get your hopes up."
Obi-Wan smiled again as he checked his scanners again. Even in these kinds of situations you could always make him smile.
He was nervous for you, being alone in a rebel base with no real knowledge of what you were actually looking for. And he hated that he was so far away, unable to get closer due to the base's ability to scan for ships.
So you snuck in yourself. Obi-Wan insisted on coming too, but you needed someone to be prepared to get you out fast, besides, if you got caught, there was a higher chance of him being recognized. You had a better ability of blending in, and no one knew your face, you couldn't be tracked back to the resistance.
"Damn"
Obi-Wan's heart dropped when he heard you curse, immedietely sitting up in his chair his hands hvering over the ships controls in case he needed to make his way to you.
"Y/n? What is it?"
"Someones coming, hold on." Your voice was barely audible, but Obi-Wan held his tongue, and his breath.
You snuck into a nearby room and leaned against the wall in the darkness. The sound of people walking past echoed through your ears.
Your heart was hammering as you held the handle of your phaser tightly.
"Y/n?" Obi-Wan's voice spoke softly, worry obvious.
"I'm good." You whispered and you heard an audible sigh of relief.
Looking around the room you had snuck into, you realized it was full of computers and paperwork. Looking closer, you saw drives locked up in a cabinet. Your interest piqued, you inched closer, wondering if the information on the drives might be valuable.
"I found a bunch of data drives"
"Any way of knowing what's on them?"
Breaking the lock, you took as many drives as you could fit in your bag. "No Idea but I grabbed some. I'm going to try and get into their system."
Able to hack in, you were only able to find one file on a potential weapon development for the rebels before you suddenly heard the door behind you slide open.
You dropped down, trying not to be seen, but you weren't fast enough.
"There they are!"
Through the comm's Obi-Wan heard an unfamiliar yell before the sound of weapons fire was heard. Obi-Wan immediately started the ship and made his way towards the base.
Hearing you grunt in pain, Obi-Wan's heart dropped "Y/n?"
"I've been hit" You said with panic in your voice as you fired your weapon at the rebels. Killing one, and wounding the other, you managed to get out of the room.
You raced down the corridors, your abdomen burning from your wound. As alarms started to blare through the base, you looked for a way out, but as the sound of running approached, you felt a sense of dread wash over you.
"I'll be there soon Y/n, can you get to the pick up point?"
"I'll get back to you on that."
Weapons fire filled the comm's again and panic coursed through Obi-Wan. He knew it was too dangerous to send you alone, he hated that he didn't go with you, he hated that he didn't risk the resistance being linked to the mission.
When silence came through the comm's Obi-Wan spoke "Y/n, what's going on?"
He heard your heavy breaths through the comm "I can't get out, they've got the place flooded with people. Obi-Wan, they knew I was here. They didn't just find me, they were looking for me."
Obi-Wan's breath caught in his throat "Are you sure?"
You nodded, forgetting that he couldn't see you "Yes, they knew"
Anger and worry coursed through him, who found out? Or, who betrayed you?
"Where are you?"
"I found a small storage room, I'm hiding in, I don't know if they'll find me. If they do, I'm screwed."
"How are your injuries?"
You looked down at your body and you swallowed. After the first hit to your abdomen in the control room, the ambush of rebels in the hall did more damage. You had been hit in the shoulder, arm and leg. It wasn't good, you already felt your body weakening.
Your clothes were burned from the phaser fire, the wounds were cauterized, but blood seeped from them due to your desperate escape.
"Not good."
Obi-Wan's stomach turned "I'm almost there, just hang on okay?"
"Obi-Wan, don't"
"Don't what?"
"Don't come for me."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm too far into the base, it's too risky. And I'm too injured. It's not worth it."
Obi-Wan let out a scoff of anger and surprise.
"You mean you're not worth it?"
You always had this mindset. You always threw yourself into dangerous situations so other's didn't have too, because you thought you wouldn't be as missed, that you wouldn't be worth as much, that no one would really care if you died.
And he hated it, he hated that you didn't see your worth. He hated that you didn't see how much he cared.
Your silence told him exactly what he already knew.
"How can you still think that?" He asked, his voice desperate "How can you think after all this time, after all the people you've saved, that you aren't worth it?"
"It's an occupational hazard I guess." You spoke softly, obviously in pain, but he could hear the forced smile on your face as you spoke.
You were never one to want to worry him, so you always made jokes.
"Even if I don't think I'm worth it. It's too dangerous for you. The base is flooded with people, you may be a jedi, but you can't make it through all of them to find me. You'll get yourself killed."
"I'm coming to get you Y/n, nothing is stopping me."
Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you weren't sure if it was because of the pain, panic, or the way Obi-Wan was speaking.
"Is this what it feels like to be you, when I make reckless decisions?"
You heard Obi-Wan let out a soft huff "Yes"
"No wonder you always get so upset with me."
"Occupational hazard" He mumbled as his knuckles turned white due to the grip of his hands.
He could hear your voice slowly getting softer, you were loosing strength.
"I'm getting close Y/n, just hang on."
You could hear the sound of footsteps nearby and fear coursed through you. You pointed you weapon at the door, prepared to fire if needed. Even if you'd die here, you wouldn't let them take you out easily.
The footsteps faded and you felt relief wash over you. You hissed as a jolt of pain shot through your stomach.
"Y/n?"
"Obi-Wan, it's too late." Your voice was softer now, as your eyelids grew heavier. Your clothes slowly soaked with blood, your wounds aching.
"Don't you dare say that. I know you're stronger than this, so just stay awake, I'm almost there!"
Obi-Wan could feel himself losing to his emotions, but he didn't care, not now. He couldn't lose you, he wouldn't.
"Always so worried about me, always caring so much more than others. Why?" You were mumbling but Obi-Wan could still hear you.
Obi-Wan felt his eyes burning, hearing the pain and worry in your tone "Don't you know?"
"Yes. But If I'm going to die I'd like to hear it at least once."
Obi-Wan shook his head, "You're not going to die. You're going to hold on, and I'll tell you in person. How does that sound?"
"So now you're trying to bribe me into surviving?"
"Anything to make you stay"
You didn't notice your grip loosening and your gun falling to the floor, or the way your body began to slump. You tried to focus on Obi-Wan's voice, to stay awake, but you felt yourself falling into darkness.
"I don't...think I h-have...a choice"
"Y/n? Y/n!"
When you didn't response, and he was only met with silence and static, dread washed over him.
"Y/n?"
Seeing the base come into view, Obi-Wan began to land his ship. Fear, anger and determination coursed through him. He wouldn't believe you were gone, not until he found you. And if- if you were dead, he wouldn't leave you here, not alone.
Obi-Wan managed to get half-way through the base before encountering rebels. After a fight, and a light wound to his arm, he made his way through the base again.
Reaching out with the force, he felt for your presence, any sign of you nearby. Feeling nothing, he felt his heart clench painfully in his chest.
Suddenly, just for a second, he felt a familiar presence, a sort of warmth washed over him, but then it was gone. But it was enough for him as he picked up his pace, and began running.
Finding a small door sort of hidden in a corridor, Obi-Wan knew it would be the sort of place you would go too. Going in silently, his eyes immediately spotted you at the back of the small room and his heart dropped.
You were still, no movement could be seen. Your phaser was lying on the ground beside you, your hands limp and head to the side. Your clothes were soaked with blood, as phaser burns could be seen.
Obi-Wan ran to you taking your face in his hands. He felt relief wash over him. You were still alive, though barely.
He knew it would e dangerous getting you out. He'd have to carry you, but he was not leaving you. Scooping you up into his arms, he made his way out into the corridor. He could hear the sound of footsteps nearby. Taking a breath, he started to run, to get you to safety, so save you.
--- --- ---
You weren't sure how long you had been in the darkness, lost and numb. But slowly, you started to feel as though there was someone in the darkness with you. Like you were underwater and someone was reaching for you, all you needed to do was take their hand.
"Don't go Y/n."
The voice was familiar, but you had trouble placing it. It was warm, it felt safe.
"I'm right here, we're almost out of this, just don't let go."
Suddenly, like a jolt of electricity you realized. It was Obi-Wan. He had come for you after all. But you were sure you were dead. Weren't you?
No. Not yet.
Darkness swallowed you again, but you felt lighter, as though you weren't drowning anymore, but floating, waiting to wake up.
When your eyes finally fluttered open, the room around you was unfamiliar, but the presence beside you was a comforting one.
Obi-Wan stared at you for a moment, surprised by your sudden consciousness. Relief followed quickly though as he leaned forward.
You met his eyes before you spoke, your voice soft "You came for me"
He smiled softly "Of course I did."
"Even though I told you not too."
"Yes"
Your eyes wandered to his arm, which was now in a sling. "You got hurt"
"Yes."
He saw the guilt cross your face and he reached out and placed his hand over the top of yours. You met his eyes again as he spoke.
"It's nothing serious. I got off a lot better than you did. You've been asleep for days."
You looked down at Obi-Wan's hand as it encased yours. "I heard you, talking to me. Telling me to hold on."
Obi-Wan smiled softly. He knew what you were referring too. When he finally got you back to the ship, he reached out to you with the force. He knew there was a connection to the force within you, even if you refused to acknowledge it. That was how you could hear him.
"And you did hold on."
You nodded softly, seemingly lost in thought. Obi-Wan squeezed your hand softly and you looked back to his face. Your eyes remained locked in silence for a moment before he spoke.
"You asked why I cared so much for you" He began, his voice uncertain, knowing the things he wanted to say were meant to stay a secret. Knowing he was going back on his own training and beliefs for simply feeling them.
You shook your head, stopping him "You don't need to tell me Obi-Wan"
Silence fell as your eyes remained locked. You knew how he felt, and he knew how you felt. But that was all it could be. And you both knew it.
In a moment of desperation, before you thought you were going to die, you wanted to hear him say it, just once. But now you were alive, safe again. And those words could no longer be said again.
"It's okay." You said softly, your emotion obvious in your voice "I know."
Obi-Wan smiled, but there was only sadness and regret behind it.
He wanted to tell you so badly, but both of you understood the consequences if he let those emotions take hold of him. You smiled at him, but there was sadness behind it. The same as he held onto.
You both knew how you felt, and you both knew that feeling was worth holing onto, worth saving until you could final feel it freely. But for now, it would remain unsaid.
xx End xx
Not sure how I feel about how this came out, but I hope you enjoyed it!
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Obi-Wan slowly slipping under the covers behind you after having to stay with the council until the late hours on Coruscant. Sneaking into your quarters undetected making him feel like he’s a young padawan doing things he’s not supposed to. But he just can’t stay away. You’re letting out soft moans with each breath and all he wants is to enter your mind and find out if you’re dreaming of him. He’s been ready for you since you told him that you’d be expecting him later and leaving him a hot mess in the library. It taking all of his will power to not let out his frustration right there behind the tall book shelves.
He oh so slowly moves your sleep shorts to the side enough for him to slip inside of you. Oh. You are having a good dream indeed. He’s pressed up so close to you; his nose in the tangles of your hair and his hands pulling you closer by your waist….
😳😳😳 Uhhh excuse me?
Loui. Babes. Sweetheart. Bestie. You can't just hit me with somnophilia without a warning like that!!!!!!
NSFW below cut. Descriptive talk of somnophilia so if that makes you uncomfortable, please skedaddle away. Also, Obi-Wan is a kinky fucker. No you can't change my mind.
God I can picture this so vividly too. He can't wait to return back into your arms. He walks with the single goal in mind: getting to your quarters in the dead of night without anyone noticing. The good thing is, your rooms aren't far from each other. But the bad thing is, your rooms aren't far from each other...which means, any other Jedi Master on the Council, also returning to their own rooms around this time, might catch him going into yours.
So he has to be even more careful than usual. He takes long strides, but does his best to calm his Force Signature, and the discomfort of the blood running somewhere he wishes wouldn't be such a distraction at the moment. He brings his robes around his front to shield the growing hardness tenting his trousers, only halting in the hurried steps when he reaches your door. It's clear to him that whatever he's experiencing now is similar to when he was a youngling, perhaps even worse, because while he may have snuck out several times during his youth to steal from Master Yoda's favorite fruits, the actions he's close to taking now are much more serious. Obi-Wan does laugh though when he thinks of Master Yoda's reaction if he were to find out what he's doing now. It would not be dissimilar to the way he approached him years ago when he finally found out who was sneaking into the kitchens and hoarding the delicacies.
When he's sure no one is around, and those who were are fast asleep, he pushes the combination to your door in and sneaks inside, the door sliding shut immediately after he enters. Obi-Wan takes a few moments to collect his bearings, and when he finally turns around, he's met with the sight of your calm and content form beneath the soft sheets of your bed. He grimaces to himself when he sees you're wearing clothes, but the reality of the situation overrules his irritation and he undresses in record time. For a brief moment, he thinks of leaving his boxer briefs on, but the sounds and moans you begin to make in your sleep derail whatever thought he just had.
Slipping the last article of clothing down his legs, he approaches you slowly and stands at the foot of your bed for a while, tilting his head to the side when you move to your side and continue to groan in your sleep, a little bit louder than earlier.
Maker, whatever you were dreaming of must have gotten you in a bit of a frenzy.
Not wanting to waste another moment, Obi-Wan walks around and slips behind you, shifting the sheets away from your body until the two of you were exposed to the chill of the night air. He caresses your arms with two fingers, smiling to himself when he sees gooseflesh erupt across your skin. Your breath hitches all of a sudden and Obi-Wan is torn between watching your Force Signature spike in heat and probing your mind so he can have a front row seat of what's getting you so hot and bothered.
He slides his hand beneath your arm and around your navel, digging his fingers into your stomach to bring you as close to him as possible. When your own hand shifts down and holds onto his own like an anchor, his mind is made up almost instantly.
Obi-Wan pushes his nose the space just behind your ear, inhaling deeply as he moves his hand down and pushes one of your thighs higher so he can get better access to your cunt. You oblige with ease, and the Jedi Master feels his cock twitch with excitement at remembering what you said to him earlier today when he was researching something for an upcoming mission in the library.
I can't wait to feel you tonight. It's been so long Obi, and my fingers are nothing compared to your cock.
He teases your slit with the tips of his fingers, groaning your name when he finds you wet and wanting and shaking for him. Pushing your sleep shorts aside, he shuts his eyes to contain himself from coming then and there at the mere prospect of being engulfed by your heat.
I know you'll come late tonight baby. But...I was thinking- even if you do, I...I still want to feel you. Wouldn't you want that too? I could be good for you...all the time. If you just train my body to take you whenever you want, however you need, I could bring you pleasure any time you yearn for release. Even when I'm not even aware I am. Please Obi, let me help you rest. Let me pleasure you in my sleep...it would mean the world to me, knowing that I can serve you at any given moment.
Pushing his nose into your skin one last time, Obi-Wan thrusts his cock into your cunt, growling with desperation when your walls sheath him like the tightest of gloves. He can't move for a few minutes, afraid he would shoot his load deep in your womb if he so much as pushes into you a little bit more. Your sounds only egg him on though, and his breath shakes with sheer anguish at the prospect of pleasing you in return. He roams his hand up and down your body, torn between holding onto your waist as he fucks into you and moving his hand up your body to grope your breasts in his palm. He thinks that if he were to keep them on your waist, he might end up pushing you beneath him and railing into you until you woke up, something neither of you wanted now.
So he slides his hand underneath your night shirt, and he forgets how to breath for a second when he rests his hand above your heart and finds it hammering against him. He's unsure how this should make him feel, if he should feel pride at being the one to cause you such heightened sensations, or if he should feel possessive of the way your body reacts to his touch, even in your unconscious state.
As soon as his fingers grace your nipples and find them achingly hard for him, he decides that he will dwell on that last thought later. For now, he wanted to make you sing for him in your sleep, and push more filthy dreams into your mind so you can feel as fulfilled as he was now.
Focusing all of his energy on not coming prematurely, Obi-Wan bucks his hips and feels a strike of lightning shoot down his spine at the hot, soaking welcoming of your walls. He wants to scream your name, tell you how good you are to him, even when he's not letting go inside of you, but he knows that anyone around will catch a hint of whatever is going on in this room, so he rests his forehead against your shoulder blade and bites his lower lip to quiet down. He moves with determination, pinching your nipples occassionally if only to hear you moan something akin to his name in your sleep or simply groan and take in a harsh breath.
Obi-Wan doesn't know how long he goes on. It feels like a thousand years, his cock nudging a perfect corner inside you that causes you to gush even more around him, coating the bedsheets beneath you with more of your juices as proof of his ability to pleasure you even when you're not asking him to do anything. But as the need for release grows, he realizes that he must have you cum on his cock before he does, because he's not sure what would happen if he were to shoot his seed inside you and you were left hanging in your sleep. He wanted you to experience rapture as he was now, and before he can think twice of what he's doing, he slips his hand down in between your thighs and shoves his fingers inside your sleep shorts, quickly flicking your clit as he increases his thrusts and feels your walls clenching around him.
He opens his eyes in time to look at your damp neck, and with a few more flicks to your engorged bundle of nerves, he watches as you descend into ecstasy, your Force Signature singing his name louder than he thought even possible in such a state. He wants to wake you, warn you of what would happen if anyone found out, but he can't find it in himself to ruin your orgasm, so he pushes and pushes until he feels a blaster hit his stomach, his cock twitching violently in your cunt as he shoots his load and paints your walls for what feels like minutes.
He throws his head back against the pillow, but doesn't let go of you or pull away, and only when he comes to his senses do his eyes shoot open in panic. He listens, and listens....and listens some more, for any sign of anyone around knowing what just happened. When nothing out of the ordinary draws his attention, he thanks the Maker that he can remain where he is now instead of getting up and doing damage control.
As he sits up on his elbow and looks down at you, he finds your eyebrows furrowed, as if you were focusing on something really hard for a long time and weren't able to do it. Roaming his eyes down your body, he finds your nails digging into his forearms, your breaths coming in hot and ragged. Obi-Wan laughs to himself because of course you wanted more of him even in your sleep. The thought warms his heart because to know that you only ever thought of him, even in your unconscious state, is to have lived within the Force itself.
Even though he knows he should clean the two of you, he doesn't dare move, and instead returns flush behind you, giving your clit a few, teasing rubs to feel your cunt flutter around him once more before resting.
Hmm, tomorrow morning was certainly going to be interesting.
#i don't know what just happened#i'm literally writing an obi wan oneshot#and i saw this ask#and my hands slipped#obi-wan/reader#obi-wan kenobi/reader#obi wan/reader#obi wan kenobi/reader#obi-wan smut#obi wan smut#obi-wan kenobi smut#obi wan kenobi smut#obi-wan#obi-wan kenobi#obi wan#obi wan kenobi
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Good Night (Platonic Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!Reader)
As Obi-wan Kenobi's padawan, your life was never short on adventure. Unfortunately, that meant you were always short on sleep. You were pretty sure the bearded man could see that when he asked you to stay on the ship while he, Anakin, and Ahsoka went ahead on the recon mission.
You tried to stay awake, knowing that despite the low impact of the task, it was all too important when someone or something actually did try to take or destroy the ship.
You only closed your eyes for a moment, and when you opened them again, you were against Anakin's chest, being carried to the quarters that, for the time being, you were sharing with your fellow Padawan.
You mumbled something that was probably supposed to come out as, "Master?" It sounded more formless than that, you were sure.
"Shh," he said quietly. "Ahsoka's already asleep. I was trying not to wake you."
"Thanks," you whispered once he set you down, feeling the tension in your neck from falling asleep in your chair release.
"No problem, kid. Sweet dreams."
It was only a few minutes before you heard Obi-wan's light footsteps announce his presence.
He walked over to Ahsoka's bunk first, seeming to check her for injuries once again. The mission must've been more dangerous than they'd been expecting.
"Oh, Padawan," he gave a quiet sigh as he settled down by your bedside. "You know, sometimes I wonder if I go... too easy on you."
He thought you were already asleep.
"But, as much as I hate to admit it, I'm glad you weren't with us this time," Obi-wan whispered. "It was nothing serious, nothing to worry about now, but there was one moment, where Ahsoka--oh, my heart nearly stopped. I can't imagine what it would be like if I had both of you to be worrying about.
"And I know you'll have to be in danger plenty before this war is over... ha, Qui-gon would not have had a problem with this," he shook his head, laughing faintly at himself. "For Forcesake, I didn't even have this problem with Anakin. I wasn't raising him in the middle of a war."
He sighed again. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. This is something I have to figure out on my own," he rubbed a hand across his beard before leaning over and pressing a light kiss to your cheek. "Sleep well, my dear. See you in the morning."
#star wars fanfiction#star wars#reader insert#reader included#gender neutral fanfic#gn y/n#obi wan kenobi#obi wan#obi wan star wars#padawan#jedi#platonic love#platonic obi wan#platonic oneshot#oneshot#star wars oneshot#short ficlet#obi wan kenobi x reader#obi wan kenobi x you
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Luke stood in front of an old Clone Wars base. Something in the Force beckoned him closer.
"Hello?" Luke called, walking into the dark hanger. He could see old republic ships, in varying states of disrepair.
Something fell, Luke spun around to meet a blaster. His hands shot up.
"I'm sorry- I was searching for fuel-" it wasn't a lie, his X-wing was running low. Artoo hadn't shut up for the last couple of lightyears.
The stranger didn't listen. They were too busy staring.
"Who are you?" they asked, scarily calm.
"My name is Luke, what's yours?" Luke answered, he disliked being on this side of a blaster.
His captor seemed to keep staring, "Ahsoka. Why are you here? Don't you know the fuel here would not be usable?"
Luke nearly facepalmed, "Blast- I didn't think of that-"
Ahsoka seemed to find that funny, as they seemed to laugh a bit.
"I should have some fuel for you, Luke. My friends and I have been stockpiling for quite a while, so we have planty to share. But first, I must ask if you are a threat." Ahsoka seemed slightly paranoid.
"I swear I am not a threat. I just need fuel, my droid won't stop yelling at me," Luke chuckled. Ahsoka found that funny, funny enough to put the blaster down.
Ahsoka lit a flashlight, aiming it down. Luke could finally identify what species he was facing.
"You're a- a togruta? Weren't you all-" Luke stammered.
"Wiped out after the Clone War? Almost. I'm one of few left." Ahsoka smiled, sadness blooming from her Force presence. Wait.
"Hold on. Are you-"
"Force sensitive? Yes, it took you a while to realize. Who trained you?" Ahsoka tilted her head.
"At first, a little, Ben. Then Yoda. Since then, it's been me." Luke frowned, his father had wanted to train him, but given that his father was recovering from being a Sith-
"Ben? I am unfamiliar with him. What's his last name?" Ahsoka asked.
"Kenobi. What's your last name?" Luke asked.
"Ah, you were partially trained by Obi-wan, I see. I was trained by Obi-wan's apprentice. My last name is Tano. And yours, Luke? You remind me of my old master."
"My name is Luke Skywalker. Who was your master?" Luke asked. Ahsoka started to walk, beckoning him to follow.
"Why, my master was your father. Anakin Skywalker." Ahsoka held open a door. Behind it was warm light and the sound of laughter.
Luke stepped through the door, and in front of him was a group of older men in old clone armor. They paused, looking at him.
"Commander?" one said, standing slowly.
Ahsoka came in behind Luke, "Rex, this is Luke Skywalker. Anakin's son. Luke, meet what's left of the 501st battalion, served the Clone War under the command of Anakin Skywalker, Obi-wan Kenobi, and Ahsoka Tano."
#this is a oneshot#ahsoka tano#luke skywalker#anakin skywalker#star wars#obi wan kenobi#ahsoka meets luke
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A Padawan's Confession
Pairings: Obi-Wan x padawan!reader
Warnings/Tags: drama, hurt/comfort, age difference, no (further) romantic interaction
Summary: G/N reader! You and your master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, rest by a campfire overnight during a mission. As your thoughts get heavier each second he senses your trouble and you take the opportunity to announce your decision to leave the order. Because feelings far beyond the boundaries of the Jedi slowly turn you insane as your heart craves for the man who's both the furthest and closest to you....
Words: 1.7k
A/n: This short story is inspired by a one shot I've written many years ago. I hope you like it! Also English isn't my first language so there might be spelling and grammar mistakes in this story!
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The quiet camp fire marked tonight's resting place from your stressful mission. You and your master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, sat on broken trunks, your cloaks pulled around you tightly to keep the warmth of the fire around your bodies. But as quiet as the night seemed to be, your mind was the exact opposite. Hundreds of thoughts raced around and kept your pulse high and your tension at a maximum. It was at the time you eventually should be honest with your master and talk to him about your decision to leave the order. Your thoughts have been resolving around this topic for months now and with each day passing you felt more certain to pervade your decision, as the pressure and pain got worse and became almost unbearable.
While you tried to think about the best way to tell him, your master sensed your inner tension. "You seem troubled, Y/N," he observed. "Is there something you'd like to talk about?"
You hesitated for a brief moment before you nodded. "Yes. Kinda..."
"What's wrong?" Obi-Wan asked, his neutral facial expression slowly turning into concern. He didn't want you to feel bad. He in fact despised it when you were sad or troubled and that is why he always wanted to be there for you, support you and help you through bad times. Of course it was also his responsibility to care for you but through all the year's you've been his Padawan you grew to be so much more for him, something similar to the daughter he never had. And that is a fact he never actually said out loud but it was a silent truth between the both of you.
You let out a deep sigh but it didn't release any of the heavy pressure pushing down on you. To leave the order was a life-changing decision that couldn't be undone. It could be a big mistake—or the best decision you'll ever make. But after all it hurt a lot to even think about saying goodbye.
"I-" you started but a heavy lump in your throat interrupted you. "I can no longer do this." You automatically lowered your voice and turned your face towards the darkness behind the trees to avoid his glance. You felt tears form in your eyes, so you closed your lids and held your breath. There was almost nothing else as awkward as crying in front of your master, a Jedi in accordance with the code. 'There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force,' you quoted in your mind realizing you've broken at least half of the five key principles. What a shame it would be if you'd shown your master how much you were guided by your emotions. "I'm sorry master," you said.
Obi-Wan frowned in both confusion and concern. "You're sorry? For what? What is it you can no longer do?" he asked with a calm voice. He was trying hard to hide how much he worried about you right now.
"All of this," you replied. "I made the decision to leave the Jedi order." Out of a sudden, relief flooded your veins as the heavy weight of those words left your soul with every syllable spoken.
Obi-Wan paused. He didn't even realize he forgot to beathe while the shock of your announcement washed over him. "Y/N," he finally managed to press through his lips. "Leaving the Jedi order is a significant decision."
"I know," you replied.
"May I ask why you've come to this conclusion?"
You hesitated. It made you uncomfortable to talk about the reasons. Then again, informing him was the least you could do. You still didn't manage to make eye contact. "I've broken the Jedi principles. Or, to put it better, it gets harder for me to follow them everyday. I can't no longer distract myself from my emotions and act as if I don't feel any affection. My mind starts to think in ways the doctrines of the Jedi dismiss and I'm afraid I'll and up in demise." The tears lingering in your eyes got more but you still managed to hold them back. It was obvious that your master could feel the bunch of emotions cracking through all of these walls you've built up since the beginning of your training. But there was one you could still hide. One particular emotion you hid so well from the outside and the force sensing abilities of the Jedi that you were sure, no matter how many your master could sense, that one particular emotion wasn't one of them.
"Affection, you say?" Your master responded and you nodded. "May I ask what kind of affection troubles you?"
You wish you could say that it was only a deep friendship that guided you to paths different from the force. But it was more. Something way deeper. "It's love," you said.
"Love," Obi-Wan repeated. As he turned his gaze towards the camp fire, you dared to look at him. He was obviously lost in thought. Maybe he was searching for the best response or he was thinking about you, wondering who the person might be that made you struggle this hard you considered to leave the order. "The Force guides us all on unique journeys," he then said. "And there are many that aren't consistent with the Jedi ways. You're correct, affection—especially love—is a bond that leads you on a path in-between dark and light. What could be a strength might at the same time become a weakness. Where love blooms, passion lingers. And where passion lingers, darkness awaits."
You listened to his words. It was the same doctrine you had internalized for years but the way your master chose his words made it sound different this time. You suspected that he hasn't finished his monologue yet so you stood quite, examining his side profile while his attention seemed to be caught be the dancing flames. He in fact hasn't finished yet. "As you should know I won't judge you. It's not your decision if you fall for someone. It's your decision how you deal with it. And if your feelings affect you in a way they could harm you and the Jedi order this might no longer be your journey. So don't be ashamed."
You took a deep breath and turned your gaze to the fire as well. "Thank you," you said and a tear finally released itself from your strong hold and rolled down your cheek.
"For what?"
"For your understanding."
Your master chuckled. "Let me tell you a secret. When I was your age I've been in love as well. Twice. So I know your struggle. But it was my decision to lock those feelings up and stay in the order."
You blinked in shock. Your master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, has once been in love? Well, that was something you would've never expected. But at least he's managed to keep his mind straight. And with that thought you replied: "I don't think I'll ever be able to do the same. It's so hard and the person I'm into is almost always around me." You hesitated, afraid you've said too much. But in the end, it wouldn't matter what you've said the day you announced your decision.
Obi-Wan turned his head to look at you. His blue eyes shimmered in the light of the dancing fire that made his gaze seem even warmer than it already was. "Is it your friend Anakin?" he asked in curiosity and you took a deep breath before you shook your head.
"No. It's not Anakin." And with the words spoken out loud you've finally let the last of all the walls you've built to hide your emotions break into pieces. A warm wave of the force rushed over both of you and the campfire, making it dance uncontrollably fast for a brief moment. You noticed Obi-Wan shift but couldn't certainly say what exactly changed as you allowed him to find out about your feelings for him. Your cheeks immediately turned red and you felt shame rush over you. The emotion behind that wall was the exact reason you wanted to leave. Love for your master, the one who would—and should—never return your feelings. The one who was supposed to care for you, to train you, and who played great value on the Jedi principles. He wasn't even just your master, he was a Jedi master and a member of the high council as well.
Obi-Wan didn't turn his gaze away, his blue eyes now filled with a harsh realization.
Another tear ran down your cheek but you tried your hardest to not look away and keep the eye contact. In the perfect world of your fantasy Obi-Wan would've leaned towards you and captured your lips in a passionate kiss. But this wasn't your fantasy, it was reality. And in reality all he did was sit right in front of you, obviously shocked and speechless—but at the same time comprehending many details of your (probably strange) behaviour in the past. Your stares, the way you laughed particularly often in his presence, you distancing yourself from him after you made a mistake... The ways you've tried to impress him when fighting in battles....
"I'm sorry, Y/N", Obi-Wan finally said with a low voice. He was obviously still speechless.
"I know," you replied with a cracking voice. You still watched his face, his expression, the small wrinkles on his skin that were a subtile proof for the big age difference between you and him. You studied his blue eyes that still kept all of the warmth he's met you with during this conversation. His beard, the neatly cut hair... You tried m to memorize his face as best as you could because soon you'd never see it again....
You shook your head. "No. Please don't say that as if it was your fault. It's mine. And I'm gonna leave as soon as our mission's over."
"It is your decision how you want to spend your life. But I can't offer you what you want."
"I know," you replied with a cracking voice. You still watched his face, his expression, the small wrinkles on his skin that were a subtile proof for the big age difference between you and him. You studied his blue eyes that still kept all of the warmth he's met you with during this conversation. His beard, the neatly cut hair... Everything inside of you screamed for his affection, his love, his heart. You wanted him to touch you, pull you to his chest and kiss you gently. Obi-Wan was everything you've ever wanted and the one thing you'll never get. So you tried to memorize his face as best as you could because soon you'll never see it again....
#obi wan kenobi x reader#obi wan x y/n#obi wan x reader#obi-wan kenobi x reader#obi-wan kenobi x y/n#obi-wan kenobi x oc#star wars x reader#obi-wan x you#obi-wan kenobi#obi wan kenobi#obi wan x yn#obi wan x oc#obi wan x you#star wars oneshot#star wars fanfic#star wars os#star wars fanfiction#obi wan fanfiction#obi wan star wars#obi wan kenobi x oc#obi wan kenobi x y/n#obi wan kenobi x yn#gn reader#star wars x you#star wars x y/n#star wars x oc#padawan reader#star wars
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Codywan oneshot
(oneshot, fluff
Tw: mention of a injury)
The 212th batallion was taking cover on the battlefield, it looked good for them.
Cody was next to his general, Obi Wan Kenobi, shooting the enemy droids, Obi Wan reflecting light bolts from them.
Everything works out perfectly fine until Obi Wan gets shot down.
Cody sees everything in slow motion, shooting the enemy down that shot Obi Wan and rushing over to him.
Cody asked for medical help and Obi Wan gets taken to the medic.
Cody is worried to death, but he needs to do his job and take the lead in this battle.
After the battle Cody sneaks into the medical tent, sitting next to Obi Wan, waiting for him to wake up.
When Kenobi wakes up a couple of hours later, Cody sits next to him, holding his hand. When he noticed that Kenobi is awake, Cody's smiles softly down at him.
"Hey, my dear, how do you feel" Cody says in a soft voice.
Obi Wan smiles, when he sees his lover.
"Hi, I'm in pain, but I'll survive." Kenobi says, his voice is still a bit groggy from being unconscious and only waking up a minute ago.
Cody feels sorry for his boyfriend, knowing the pain he has and he caresses Kenobis cheek. Obi Wan leans into his touch and asks: "how long was I out for?"
Cody thinks for a moment before answering: "for around three hours, but you shouldn't worry about that. Rather worry about getting rest, so the wound can heal faster."
"Don't worry, beautiful. I'll heal just fine and I'm gonna be back on the battlefield in no time." Obi Wan says.
Cody kisses his knuckles and chuckled slightly at Obi Wans optimism.
Obi Wan smiles, "now I want a real kiss" he says, giving Cody puppy eyes.
Cody chuckles again, leaning down and kissing Obi Wan, the kiss is passionate Kenobi pulls his boyfriend closer to him.
"Now rest, my love. You'll need some sleep." Cody says softly and Obi Wan falls asleep shortly after.
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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."
#obi-wan kenobi x reader#obi-wan kenobi smut#obi-wan kenobi fanfiction#obi-wan kenobi imagine#obi-wan kenobi fluff#obi-wan kenobi oneshot#obi-wan kenobi one-shot#obi-wan kenobi one shot#obi-wan kenobi headcanon#obi-wan kenobi headcanons#obi-wan kenobi hcs#obi-wan kenobi hc#obi-wan kenobi fan fiction#obi-wan kenobi fanfic#obi-wan kenobi blurb#obi-wan kenobi drabble#obi-wan kenobi dialogue#obi-wan kenobi x y/n#obi-wan kenobi x you
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I’ve got my eye on you
Mullet!Padawan!Obi-Wan x Enby!Padawan!Reader
Warnings: Reader being a lil thirsty, Obi-Wan has a mullet 😩, reader’s 🤏 this close to ditching the Jedi Code
Summary: Y/N hasn’t seen Obi-Wan in a while, but when they finally catch a glimpse of him — they almost go feral.
SOMETHING HAD CHANGED IN Y/N, some could say something was unlocked. On the surface, the Jedi may assume Y/N’s discipline and loyalties were being tested, truly. To Y/N’s observant and keen master, it was hormones.
When the master-padawan duo walked the temple’s perimeter and ran into Obi-Wan, the conclusion was insanely evident. At the end of the hallway, he was just a beige blob with Jedi robes that fanned out with powerful strides.
“Who is that?” Y/N asked, faintly gesturing towards the approaching figure.
Their master tilted her head, squinting at the tall apprentice. She chuckled, “Obi-Wan Kenobi, Master Jinn’s padawan. Have you not met?”
Y/N’s brows shot up. Their fellow peer was meters away, but close enough for Y/N to make out the softness in Obi-Wan’s eyes, the metallic lightsaber handle attached to his belt, and his hair.
“Obi-Wan?” They whispered with mild surprise. As the said padawan passed by the pair, Y/N immediately craned their neck, following Obi-Wan’s unfamiliar silhouette.
The master laughed wholeheartedly, affirming their inquisitiveness, “Yes, that is in fact Obi-Wan.”
Y/N was shameless. They stopped dead in the hallway, turning to watch Obi-Wan practically strut until he disappeared down a corridor. The sounds of his heavy boots were long gone, but the ghost of him was still fresh in Y/N’s memory.
There was something so different about him, it was alluring and exciting. Last time Y/N took a good look at Obi-Wan, he was a significantly shorter teen with a scrappy buzz cut. Years ago, he was the annoying, reckless, immature boy that was shunned from being taken in by another Jedi Master.
But this Obi-Wan was refined. He easily towered over Y/N and their master. There was confidence, borderline arrogance, that Y/N could pick out in his relaxed posture. His hair had grown out into a shaggy mullet, his jaw squaring and freckled with moles.
Y/N was amazed. His existence only lived in idle gossip amongst other apprentices, but Y/N had never paid much mind to those. Seeing the change made Y/N believe that maybe… straying from the Jedi Code wasn’t too bad…
“Obi-Wan,” they repeated in an astonished mumble, earning a knowing but exasperated sigh from their master.
"Do not be enamored by his good looks, young one, for that is not the Jedi Way."
"Yeah, I know but..." Y/N bit their cheek, tilting their head as they tried to envision Obi-Wan strolling down the corridor again. "Damn," they uttered to themself.
"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N," their master tutted. She shook her head with mock disappointment, the decorative beads in her hair clinking from the subtle motion. "I taught you better than this," she sighed.
They blinked hard, turning to the Jedi Knight with a huff, "You did not."
Her thin dark brows arched. "Just as I were to suggest talking to Master Jinn..." she mused.
"He has nothing to do with this."
"Well, I was gonna ask him and his apprentice to join us on our next mission, but seeing how you —,”
"I am grateful," Y/N began suddenly. They took a dramatic inhale and continued, "I am grateful that the Council assigned me to you when I was a youngling. I thank Maker everyday for sending you to me."
She stared blankly at them, "Okay, Y/N."
"I would break the Jedi Code for you, Master,” Y/N whispered, pressing a tender hand over their heart and clutching the fabric of their robes. “Just say the word."
In one motion, she pushed past Y/N and slowly increased her stride, forcing her apprentice to follow in tandem. “Haha,” she mumbled. “I’ll see what I can do —,” she cleared her throat loudly, jabbing Y/N’s side harshly. “But no funny business, do you understand? You can admire him from afar, but do not fly too close to the sun."
"Of course, Master,” Y/N nodded, subconsciously rubbing the side of their stomach tartly. They shared a one-sided toothy grin. "Don't wanna melt from his hotness,” they added jokingly.
"May Maker have mercy on you.”
time skip
In his camel-colored uniform, Obi-Wan brushed past his peers congregating around the cafeteria entrance. He froze in thought and in step, scanning the lunch room that bubbled with chatter.
Y/N wanted to be subtle with their fixation. With their rowdy group of friends surrounding them, the location to which Y/N’s eyes fell was easily drowned out.
And then Obi-Wan looked directly at Y/N, and they had glanced away so quickly. Their neck almost snapped.
Kriff. Kriiiifff.
Y/N ducked their head slightly and slouched to an atrocious degree. They awkwardly scooted closer to Prie, who comfortingly patted their back unbeknownst to why they acted so sheepishly.
“Are you gonna eat that?” Ropal pointed his fork at the dried fish on Y/N’s tray, daring to just snatch it from them.
Y/N shook their head, inching the plate towards him. Ropal hummed a meek thanks, stabbing the silver prongs into the meat.
“Hey!” Jape pushed Ropal’s greedy hand away, as he seemed to scoop up half of Y/N’s lunch. “The fish — only the fish, Ropal,” he snapped. “Why’re you always stealing their food?”
“I’m not? Y/N said I could have it.”
“You’re taking all of the rice.”
Y/N was mentally groaning and kicking their feet in anger. Could they just shut up for a second? Y/N was trying to watch a certain apprentice across the lunch room. Jape and Ropal, Ropal especially, had the tendency to jump on the bandwagon regardless of what it was. If Y/N seemed to be spying on someone, then they’d start spying on that person, and it would all go downhill.
Y/N squinted. Obi-Wan was weaving through the crowded maze of tables, muttering apologies as he bumped into chairs and shoulders. Who did he usually sit with? Who was he looking for?
“Y/N?” Prie nudged them. “What’s gotten into you…?” Prie tilted her head, trying to follow Y/N’s precise gaze. She scoffed, “Oh, don’t tell me…”
“Shut up,” Y/N snapped, pushing the side of her face the other direction.
Prie pretended to smile, “You’re kidding.”
“It’s nothing,” Y/N groaned, turning to properly look at their friend. Prie mockingly nodded in agreement, tapping her calloused fingertips against the tabletop. “It’s nothing,” Y/N repeated affirmatively.
“It would be really bad if it wasn’t,” Prie commented. She propped her arm up, leaning her chin into her palm. “And I don’t really believe you,” Prie said in a singsong tone.
Y/N frowned, “Why not?”
“Hey, Y/N.”
Y/N whipped their head around, eyes blooming into large saucers, as their heart began to palpitate. They were face to face with Obi-Wan, a new reinvented Obi-Wan. He was gorgeous.
“Hello there,” Y/N squeaked.
Obi-Wan smiled, sliding into the seat across from them. He crossed his arms, leaning onto the table. “I was looking for you,” he stated.
“You were?” Y/N choked, sitting up straighter. They picked up a utensil, prodding at their food, trying to occupy their awkward hands.
“Of course,” Obi-Wan said, earning a skeptical look from the other members of the group. Prie coughed, waving Jape and Ropal’s attention away from the end of the table. “I overheard our masters talking about an upcoming joint-mission — to Vena, I believe. I just, uh, wanted to let you know.”
“Ah, well, thanks.” Maker, give me strength. Oh my god. Y/N pursed their lips, the best solution to containing the childish urge to giggle.
“Do you want to research together? I think it’d be very beneficial —,”
“Yes!”
Obi-Wan’s bushy brows raised a few centimeters. He chuckled at their enthusiasm, nodding. “Right. I’ll see you after training then,” Obi-Wan says.
“Yeah,” Y/N mumbles, watching him stand and walk away.
#star wars#obi wan kenobi#x y/n#padawan#padawan!obiwan#enby!reader#obi wan x reader#padawan!reader#obi wan fanfiction#star wars oneshot#obi wan my beloved#mullet!obiwan#star wars x reader#i deserve mullet obiwan#fanfic#qui gon and obi wan#obi wan star wars#obiwan kenobi#obiwan x y/n
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Love Has Many Forms
Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader
Masterlist - Join My Taglist!
Written for Fictober 2022!
Fandom: Star Wars
Prompt: “That was never my intention.”
Summary: After spending months working closely with Obi-Wan Kenobi (and falling in love in the process), it's finally time for Y/N to say goodbye to Obi-Wan as he's recalled to Coruscant for the next pressing, urgent Jedi mission. But goodbyes are never easy or simple, especially when it comes to someone you love.
Word Count: 2,454
Category: Angst but hopeful
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
I sighed heavily as I sank onto my sofa, facing the windows overlooking my city. Any minute now, a ship would rise up from the central space port and take off into the night sky, carrying the love of my life away with it.
I'd met Obi-Wan Kenobi for the first time just over a four months ago, when he and his fellow General Anakin Skywalker had been dispatched to my planet. I had information that could help them in their fight against Count Dooku and the Separatists, and as a result, quite a few people wanted me dead. While Anakin went out with his padawan, Ahsoka, to go undercover and fight back against the Separatist spies, Obi-Wan stayed with me. We spent most of our days together, going over plans and things I knew, and then just talking about nothing as he kept me from being murdered. I'd come to truly love him in the time we'd spent together, and he made it clear he felt the same way about me.
Unfortunately for the both of us, our love story was fated to have a bad end. The Jedi Order forbade its members from having relationships and falling in love, and after months of being in paradise together, the threat had officially been stopped and the mission had come to an end. Obi-Wan and all the others had been recalled to Coruscant, and it was quite likely I'd never see them again.
I curled up under a blanket and watched the night sky, determined to see Obi off, even if I wouldn't actually be seeing him in person again. It was easier this way, with no tearful goodbye, even though it still hurt like hell to lose him.
I waited, carefully scanning the sky and not daring to look away for too long lest I miss him. The minutes crept by, until I was startled out of my watchful vigil by a knock at the door.
I glanced backwards at the door, then at the sky where I still waited for the small prick of light that would be Obi-Wan's ship. I hesitated. Whoever was at my door could wait to call on me until tomorrow morning, surely?
"Y/N, it's me."
Obi. I recognized his voice in a second, and I felt my heart shatter all over again. I tossed my blanket off of my lap and onto the couch as I stood, then made my way to the door. I took a deep breath, hoping it would steel me, then turned the doorknob and came face to face with Obi-Wan.
"Obi... what are you doing here?" I asked, unable to hide the hurt and exhaustion lacing my every word. I'd expended all of my energy keeping it together in front of him and Anakin for the past few days, once we knew our time together was drawing to a close, and I just didn't have it in me anymore.
"I wanted to say goodbye," he said, taking a careful step forward. I sighed but moved aside all the same, letting him into my home before closing the door behind him. I turned to face him, wrapping my arms around myself in the hopes it would provide some comfort. "It just... didn't feel right to leave without saying goodbye."
I closed my eyes, fighting against the physical pain crushing my chest. Seeing him would do nothing but rip my heart out even more than it already had been, which was why I hadn't wanted to do a goodbye like this in the first place.
"We said goodbye. When I gave you the last of the files and information I had yesterday, and we officially wrapped up the case," I said without opening my eyes. I heard Obi-Wan take a few steps towards me, closing the distance until I could feel his warmth radiating from right in front of me.
"That didn't feel like a particularly fitting goodbye, since Anakin, Ahsoka, Rex, and Cody were also there, and we were mostly talking about business."
"So what?" I asked, a sharper edge to my tone as I finally opened my eyes. Being so close to him and seeing the spectrum of colors in his piercing blue eyes almost destroyed me. "You wanted to make this harder? Wanted to draw out our goodbye and break my heart even more, as though it's not already broken enough?"
Obi-Wan started a little, but he held his ground. "That was not my intention."
"Then what, Obi-Wan? What did you hope to accomplish in coming here?"
"Truthfully, I couldn't bear the thought of leaving without seeing you again. Without making sure you knew beyond a doubt just how much I care about you."
He took my hands in his as he spoke, his face full of hopeful vulnerability. I had to look away again, because looking at him like this just hurt too much.
"Obi... you know I love you, too. But you're a Jedi. Which means we can never be. Your Order's laws forbid it."
"...What if they were no longer my Order?"
Now I looked at him, surprise temporarily distracting from the ache in my chest. I searched his face, but I found nothing but complete sincerity written there.
"Obi, you can't be serious? Are you telling me you want to leave the Jedi Order?"
He took a long, deep breath, and held my hands tighter as he answered.
"For you? I'd leave it all behind in a heartbeat. I cannot continue to be a Jedi and have a relationship with you... and I know what I'd choose any day."
I stared at him for a few more moments, at his beautiful, kind face and gorgeous eyes, and allowed myself to imagine it. Anakin and the rest would go back to Coruscant without Obi-Wan. He'd stay here, with me, and we'd make a life for ourselves. The two of us, living normal, peaceful lives, never to be separated again.
It sounded like heaven, for me. But for Obi-Wan, my beloved, wonderful man... he'd be giving up his life. His good heart was one of the reasons I fell in love with him in the first place, and it was also what compelled him to be a Jedi, to do his best to help people every day and make the universe a better place. I knew that, if he gave that up, he'd never truly be satisfied. And if I really loved him, I had to think of him. To put his needs before my own.
"Obi... I love you so much, more than anyone else I have ever met," I started, gripping his hands tight as I pulled him closer to me. The tears were coming now, and I could do nothing to stop them. "But you cannot give up this life you love for me."
"I am perfectly happy to give up one thing I love for another. I love you, Y/N, and if you let me, I will stay here with you. Build a new life, with you."
"My wonderful, beautiful Jedi, you would not be giving up just one thing you love. You would be giving up everything you love, save one person, and you could never go back. I see how you are with Anakin. With Ahsoka, with the clone troopers under your command. I see the light in your eyes when you do something to make a difference in someone's life, or have an adventure to save the galaxy. We may have only known each other for a few months, Obi-Wan, but I've gotten to know you very well. And you cannot give up all of those wonderful things just for me."
He started to protest, but I cut him off with a raised hand.
"Not to mention," I continued, even as a pained look crossed his face, "all the people in the universe that have been helped by you. What kind of selfish monster would I be to take you away from all the people you continue to help, each and every day?"
"No more selfish than me," he replied, taking one step closer and completely closing the distance between us, pulling me to his chest with a hand around my waist. "For leaving them all behind to spend my life with you."
I gently rested my hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders as he slowly, slowly leaned down to close the distance between us. The kiss started out soft, but then deepend and intensified as we both gave in to the passion of the moment, and the knowledge that this might very well be the last time we were together like this.
"Please," Obi muttered against my mouth as we backed into a wall. He moved to kiss along my cheek and neck, breathing words as he went. "Please, say you'll let me stay with you. Damn the rest of the galaxy. You're all that matters."
"I love you with absolutely all of my heart, Obi," I said, the tears falling in earnest now. I pulled his face up to mine and kissed him hard, just one last time, before pulling away. His arms stayed wrapped around me, his head bobbing back towards mine, but I held my ground. "And because you are all that matters to me, I have to tell you to go. There is so much in the world that matters to you, whether or not you want to admit it. And I consider myself lucky to be counted as one of those people. But I can't take you away from everyone and everything else, no matter how much I may want to."
Obi-Wan sighed, long and heavy, his head hovering in the crook between my neck and shoulder. He didn't move for a few long moments, but then finally, although it seemed to take him a great amount of effort, he pulled back. His hands dropped from my waist, yet he still stood just in front of me, a sad, reserved look on his face.
"So I suppose this is it, then?"
I nodded, not even bothering to wipe at the tears streaming down my face. Obi-Wan looked on the verge of tears too, but he mastered himself before removing the cloak from his shoulders and wrapping it around me, instead. He fastened it carefully, then wiped the tears from my face, his movements so tender I wanted to melt.
"Then I'll leave you with this, to remember me by. I hope we meet again, but if we don't, know that I'll always carry you with me, no matter where I go."
I nodded, a little too overcome for words, and after holding my gaze for another long moment, Obi-Wan turned and headed for the door. I should've let him go, but I couldn't help myself from voicing the question that had been plaguing me for months now.
"What is so bad about love that makes the Jedi Order deem it so completely unacceptable?"
Obi stopped, and I saw his shoulders rise and fall with a sigh before he turned to look at me, a sad smile on his face.
"It's not love itself the Order deems so unacceptable. It's the things one does for love, when they let themselves get completely swept away by it. Love is simultaneously the best defense against the Dark Side, and the fastest path to joining its ranks. If something were to happen to you, for example, I have no doubt that I would tear the world apart for you, if need be."
"And I you, I suppose," I added. Obi-Wan nodded and started to turn, but I continued. "Just know that... I'll carry you with me, even if we aren't so lucky as to see each other again. And my love for you will make me stronger, even in the midst of heartbreak. You were and will continue to be a force for the Light in my life, Obi-Wan."
He faced me fully and nodded, a sorrowful smile rising to his face once more.
"Likewise, my love. And I will work as hard as I can to use my life well, and to make the rest of the universe a place where love can exist without war and fear clouding it."
I nodded, and we shared one last look before he turned to the door again, and this time I did not stop him. I stared after him until it clicked shut behind him, and even after that, I didn't move for a few minutes once he was gone.
The tears came again as I realized Obi-Wan was well and truly leaving my life, and there was no denial to save me from it after our goodbye. I went back to my place on the couch, wrapped up in Obi-Wan's cloak instead of my blanket, and watched out the window as the telltale light of a ship's engine at last rose from the space port, carrying Obi-Wan away from my life forever.
I watched as the ship disappeared into space beyond the atmosphere, and even after they were out of sight, I continued to stare up at the stars, where I knew Obi-Wan was, somewhere. I knew for a fact I was not Force-sensitive, but all the same, I could swear I felt him physically getting farther and farther away.
The physical pain in my chest renewed, absolutely crushing me under its weight as I continued to stare at the sky. Eventually, my gaze drifted to the city below me, and although the heartache didn't ease, I couldn't help a small smile at the sight of my home, safe and well and functioning as normal thanks to the work Obi and I had done.
After all, love was the only thing worth living for, really. And that love could come in many forms. I'd lost the love of my life tonight, without a doubt. But I still had my family, and all the friends I'd made in the place I called home. The sun would rise tomorrow, and warm my world with its glow. I could walk to my favorite bakery and smell my favorite treats, and sip on a warm drink while listening to the sounds of children playing in the street. Love could mean many things, and take innumerable forms. And although Obi-Wan and I couldn't be together, there was still plenty of love in my life to cherish.
I would continue to live, and to love and to hope. And maybe one day, in this world or whatever may come after, I'd be reunited with Obi-Wan, too. Only a fool would underestimate the power of love, after all.
#fictober22#star wars#Obi-Wan Kenobi#obi-wan x reader#star wars fanfiction#star wars one shot#star wars imagine#star wars oneshot#obi-wan kenobi fanfiction#obi-wan kenobi imagine#obi-wan kenobi oneshot#obi-wan fanfiction#star wars prequels#star wars the clone wars#Anakin Skywalker#Ahsoka Tano#jedi#jedi order#obi-wan imagine#kenobi x reader
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Last Line Challenge
Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like).
I was tagged by the very lovely @bluemaskedkarma, so you can thank them for this spicy little preview 😘😘
Obi-Wan appreciates the consideration and rewards it by rocking his hips back and forward again in a slow swivel, letting out another deep moan.
No pressure tags to @goddammitjim, @babygirlbridger, @loverboy-havocboy, @smoosey, and @dontbelasagnax, and of course anyone else that would like to play💖💖💖
#last line challenge#tag games#wip games#wip#my wips#untitled spicy oneshot#codywan#obi wan kenobi#commander cody
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Chaotic Mischief (A Star Wars Oneshot)
Warning: Fluff, Clone Humor, little bit of flirting (tiny bit of Wolffe x Jedi Reader)
Words: 4.7k
The Build Up!
Mischief wasn't uncommon among clones, especially the Shinnies and the troopers whom had been freely allowed to become individuals. 79's during the downtime was where the ideas of mischief were thrown around. Sometimes they were as simple as pulling pranks on some poor unsuspecting soul. Other times it was far more risky, such as daring a Shinny to obtain the helmet of a superior. Something that was far harder to do than the troopers believed. Chaos was always sure to happen when the 501st were back on Coruscant, Fives and Echo were normally the ones behind it, although Jesse, Kix and Tup had also helped on occasions, Hardcase too when he wasn't too busy flirting with one of the many beautiful patrons.
:readmore:
On the odd occasion when Rex was reunited with Cody, Thorn, Gregor, Wolffe and Howzer, things could really get interesting. The last time the six were together, a game of truth or dare happened. To say there were more dares than truths being told, was the understatement. Cody had told so many stories about Obi-Wan, the others joked about him being the inaugural member of the Obi-Wan Fan club. Thorn had been tasked with getting a kiss from the most beautiful person at the bar, of course Thorn had fun with it, why just settle for one, when all of them were beautiful in there own way.
Gregor had stood up on the bar, doing a mini dance while stripping from his plastoid armor. All while Wolffe had generally questioned his own sanity and that of his brother. Gregor of course paid little mind to those he shared a booth with, instead reveling in the attention he got from those who enjoyed the show. Howzer on the other hand, decided to challenge almost all his clone brothers to an arm wrestling match. Even when he knew the odds weren't in his favor. Echo and Fives, making a wager. If Howzer lost against both of them. All six in the booth would have to go through with a particular dare, they had in mind to commit. Although neither gave details on what they had in mind. Without a second thought, the drunk Commanders and Captains had hastily agreed. Only to regret their decision mere seconds later when Howzer was swiftly defeated by both Arc Troopers. Although neither gave any indication on what they had in mind or when it would be put in to play.
They did however taunt Rex about it, over their rotations on the battlefield. Never failing to remind him of the wager and dropping subtle hints of what was to come. The moment they returned to Coruscant, and found out the remaining Commanders and Captains were also back for down time, was when Fives' famous wicked grin appeared upon his lips. Echo merely shaking his head, both with dread for the reactions and to control his overactive imagination. Even more so when he remembered the discussion to involve several Jedi in the fun and games as well.
"Put us out of misery" commented Cody, as he looked to the two Arc Troopers collectively referred to as the Domino Twins. A neon blue drink in hand as he prepared for the worst case scenario, knowing when it come to the pair, anything was possible. Even the impossible. Fives and Echo could only share an expression of pure mischief. Something that only brought more dread to the six before them.
"You've heard of helmet switch-a-roo, right?" asked Fives, knowing the question was daft. Especially since Rex dealt with that on the battlefield let alone during down times. The last game of switch-a-roo had also included an unwilling Dogma, whom had somehow ended up with Tup's helmet. Tup himself had Jesse's, whom in turn had Fives helmet. Five's had Echo's helmet, who had Kix's one. Even Hardcase had gotten involved and worn Dogma's helmet. Although Rex had caught on, it had taken General Skywalker a little longer to realize.
"We're daring you to the big brother. Armor Switch-A-Roo" laughed Echo, watching with amusement as the golden eyes of his brothers become flooded with concern, dread even on what they were going to be doing while wearing the armor of another. "And you'll be spending the day in each others off duty roles" quickly added the Arc Troopers, stifling a laugh when Wolffe's head hit the table, a loud groan escaping him. Of course it would be something like that. Yet the groan was in response to realizing some of them would be around the Jedi Temple and Senate, as well as the military base.
"If we die I'm haunting the two of you" commented Gregor, a spark of amusement flashing through his golden eyes. Even more so when he realized, whomever got his armor, would have the duty of protecting a certain favored Jedi. His iconic laugh soon escaped him, especially when he knew the odds of fooling Jedi were against them. They're own General's knew them well and would surely recognize something was off. Just as the many senators roaming the senate building would notice when something was off with Thorn.
"Do we at least get to choose who we switch with?" questioned Howzer, his head smacking against the sticky table mere moments later when both Fives and Echo had both shook their head. Denying them what would have made the game of Switch-A-Roo easier. Only now did Cody and Rex share a look of dread. Gregor once again laughed, this time nervously. Where as Thorn grabbed his bright blue drink and downed it, in an attempt to drown the horror threatening to bubble up.
"Care to deliver the blow and tell us" slurred Thorn, watching as the duo took the helmets from the back of the booth. Choose to switch the helmets instead of using words. Although the pair, planned to tell them again in the morning, when they were nursing a hangover, if only to remind them it wasn't a nightmare but the reality they had agreed to when making the wager.
Echo handled the helmets with care, looking closely at the individual markings. How each were different, and made them easily identifiable. Carefully he handed Wolffe, Gregor helmet, the obvious choice, as Gregor was the only one Wolffe could realistically pass as. Gregor on the other hand was given Thorn's helmet, confusion soon washed over his tired features. He'd wrongly assumed he'd receive's Wolffe's helmet in response, so was surprise to get the one belonging the Coruscant Guard.
Rex had been the one to be receive Wolffe's helmet. A chuckle had instantly ripped from his throat, even more so when it would be obvious he wasn't the tough battle worn Commander. Cody had been given Rex's helmet, to which an instant wicked grin appeared on his lips, it being clear he knew what chaos he'd cause while dressed as his old friend and brother. Something that only brought gripping dread to Rex. Thorn on the other hand received Howzer's helmet, swearing under his breath, as it would mean he'd be in close proximity to many Jedi General's, a thought that brought both dread and of course amusement, would they take notice of the little things. Howzer on the other hand, quickly determined the only helmet left was Cody's, to which he cheered, clearly his silent prayers to the maker had been answered.
"Remember whatever chaos you cause while wearing the others armor, has to be explained by said owner" casually spoke Fives, confirming the Jedi would be none the wiser of the mischievous antics, and would thrust ask about the odd inconsistencies should they be noticed. "Wolffe we wish you luck. Gregor is on protection duty for (Y/N) tomorrow" laughed the Arc Trooper, his laughter only growing upon hearing the growled yet muffled response. Of course they'd thrown him head first at (Y/N), he be an idiot if he thought they'd let the opportunity pass them by. After all his affection for the Jedi Knight was only known by those sharing the booth and a few others. It was a closely guarded secret Wolffe had unintentionally let slip during the last game of Truth or Dare.
The Morning Of!
When morning come, each of those apart of the mischief groaned. Wolffe in particular found himself with confusion. Why did he have Gregor's Commando armor? Where was his own?. He soon noticed the little light in the top corner of his datapad blinking, sighing as he carefully placed Gregor's helmet to the side and grabbing the small device. Instantly regretting the decision upon seeing a video message from Fives there.
"So that wasn't a nightmare" commented Wolffe, throwing the pad on his bunk before once again reaching for Gregor's helmet. Carefully studying it, the many markings scattered all over it, even a few scorch marks, the fading yellow paint around the visor, even the bright blue light to appear, when held in a certain way. The battle worn commander, taking notice of how heavy the helmet felt compared to his own, even the roughness beneath his fingers.
"How the kriff does Thorn see in this thing" voiced Gregor, walking into the nearby desk, as he flicked at the black painted shade over the top of the visor. The commando's words pulling a rare chuckle from Wolffe. The commander amused by Gregor holding his arms out in an effort to gain stability while wearing the foreign helmet, and making his way over to the spare bunk without tripping or bumping into anything else. "I saw Rex, poor bugger, looks ridiculous wearing your armor" joked the Commando, taking off Thorn's helmet just in time to witness Wolffe display his signature eye roll. "It kind of looks like Rex shrunk in the dryer" laughed Gregor, receiving another chuckle from Wolffe, clearly the battle worn commander could imagine it.
"Makes you wonder what the others are going to be like?" questioned Wolffe, suspecting the others would probably have a better fit, especially Cody, whom had Rex's armor. Howzer too could probably get by without much trouble with Cody's armor. "I'm expecting Thorn to complain about not having a kama" added the commander of the wolf pack, recalling Thorn asking the night before how Cody, Howzer and Gregor could operate without one. Even pointing out both Arc Troopers to issue the daring mischief were in ownership of one.
"Oh he's already started. Stated he felt naked without one" laughed Gregor. As if on cue, Thorn walked passed, stating he already missed not wearing the belted cape, even how lost he was without it. His next words were asking Gregor to take care of his precious kama while impersonating him for the day.
Cody, Rex and Howzer soon appeared behind Thorn, all but scaring him into the small room completely. Gregor's laughter ringing out as Wolffe also offered a chuckle, but that was more to see Rex practically drowning in his armor. Gone was the dark blue markings, instead he donned the familiar grey wolf insignia. It was odd for Wolffe to see his armor on another, although he soon reminded himself it was only for a few hours, then all would be back to normal again.
"I feel like a kid wearing their parent's clothes" admitted Rex, once again re-adjusting one of the shoulder plates, carefully placing Wolffe's helmet on the desk.
"You look like a kid wearing their parents clothes" commented Wolffe, amusement flashing in both his golden eye and dull cybernetic one. Thorn chuckling breaking the silence quickly, as Cody mentioned he wanted to take a picture to remember this.
"Don't forget we have to think of something to say if we're caught" reminded Howzer, shuddering to think that was a possibility. At the same time he knew the risks were high, some of them were around observant senators, others around the Jedi, whom could likely sense when something was amiss. "And to explain everything tomorrow"
"Already got mine" announced Thorn, chuckling although not elaborating any further. Wolffe piped up mere seconds later confirming he too had something in mind for explaining everything the following day, although even he'd admit explaining why his armor didn't have its normal snug fit was going to be a little more difficult. Cody also hinted he had something in mind, as did Rex whom could already predict what Cody was going to get up to.
"Have fun flirting with (Y/N), Wolffe" remarked Cody, only receiving a huffed growl from the commander in question. It being clear he regretted revealing that secret, even more so when his brothers so often teased him about it. Even General Plo did although he did so in an encouraging way, almost as if he knew something others didn't. "Why does (Y/N) need protecting anyways, she's a bad-ass Jedi Knight" asked the commander of the 212th, finding it odd a Jedi with (Y/N)'s reputation would need protection.
"Targeted by Dooku and some separatist leaders. Her cover was blown the last time she went on an assignment to protect Senator Amidala" explained Gregor, revealing the truth few knew of. "(Y/N) and Senator Amidala could pass as sisters, hence why (Y/N) had posed as her during a previous assignment. Sadly it had gone wrong, resulting in a bounty being placed on the Jedi Knight, hence her designated temple and senate duty" added the Commando, recalling (Y/N) being frustrated the last time he'd been on protection duty, she wanted to do more to help the Republic but was restricted on what she could do.
"Alright boys, lets get this show on the road" voiced Fives from the door way. Echo leaning against the opposite side. Rex immediately noticing they'd swapped helmets again. Both Arc Troopers breaking down in laughter upon looking around the group. Thorn's grumpiness about not having a kama, Gregor practically being squished into Thorn's armor. Rex's almost drowning in Wolffe's, Cody attempting to straighten Rex's kama, while Wolffe shifted uncomfortably in Gregor's armor. Howzer on the other hand, seemed content on messing with the visor shade on Cody's helmet, almost as if he was trying to re-adjust it a little.
The Mischief!
"Anakin, I think there might be something wrong with Rex" spoke Obi-Wan upon reaching his former padawan, concern ringing in his voice. At first the Jedi Knight looked confused, Rex wasn't anywhere in sight. Just as Anakin was about to voice the obvious, Rex appeared, running along and practically hugging Obi-Wan as if he was the alternative to gravity. Ahsoka chuckled slightly, quickly whipping her hands up to stifle her amusement.
"Seems normal to me, maybe a little more caf than usual" announced Anakin, chuckling as Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow in suspicion. The Jedi master untangling himself from Rex, recalling the time he'd had to do the same with Cody weeks before hand. The moment Obi-Wan walked away, Rex got his datapad out and chased after Obi-Wan, asking him for an autograph. Leaving behind a slightly confused Anakin and Ahsoka in a fit of laughter. Plo Koon chuckling to see it, although he didn't voice he had long since worked out what was going on, instead choosing to allow the mischief to continue.
"Master Plo" called Ahsoka, upon controlling her fit of giggles and regaining some composure. "Are any other clones acting oddly?" asked the Padawan, recalling seeing Commander Wolffe wrangling the 501st boys earlier, she'd never seen them behave so quickly, although Fives, Echo, Jesse, Tup and Kix seemed to be the exception, giggling like school children in the corner of the mess hall.
"Howzer seemed to be fond of causing confusion and chaos in the debriefing earlier" commented Plo, recalling the Captain had been hyperactive, almost skipping around the room. WIndu had practically grabbed his shoulders and all but forced him to stand still, not that it worked, within seconds Howzer was moving around again, twirling on the spot and practically bouncing off the walls. He'd started singing at one point.
"Rex, Howzer. Who's next?" questioned Anakin, almost dreading the response he'd get. "Maybe they switched the caf brand again. Rex always did say the last one tasted like droid oil" commented the Jedi Knight in hopes of explaining everything. Although if there was more than the two it would be harder to explain it.
"What's your reasoning for Wolffe deflating?" asked Ahsoka, seeing the confusion to pass over Anakin's features. Plo on the other hand chuckling slightly, refusing to give it away he'd worked out what was going on, instead he'd found himself with curiosity whom else was involved and the explanations each come up with. Particularly Howzer whom had to explain the debriefing.
"Looks like Thorn's having a good day" commented Padme, upon joining the group of Jedi down on the many halls. She'd come at the request of master Yoda, although it appeared to be a troublesome time. She'd passed many padawan's and younglings seemingly lost and confused about where they were going. Just as she'd bared witness to Howzer running away from Windu after tapping him on the shoulder and shouting "Tag your it".
Within seconds of the words leaving Padme's lips, Commander Thorn come waltzing down the hall, signing loudly and occasionally twerking. He'd thrown his hands up several times, the contents of the mug with Fox's name penned on long since gone everywhere. A few padawan's had been pulled into a dance, as a few masters had too. Each seemingly taken by surprise. "He was like that at the senate building as well. Flirted with senator Chuchi" laughed the Senator of Naboo. A smile on her lips to see the battle worn troopers seemingly having fun, a rare but welcome sight.
"Let me love you" called Rex, as Obi-Wan ran back down the long hall. The captain hot on his heels. Ahsoka once again bursting in to fit of giggles, as a few other younglings did too. Some of the masters looked confused as to what was going on, most shaking their heads with a little amusement before continuing. Even (Y/N) couldn't help the laughter to escape her, she'd always had a love for mischief.
"Your not going to do anything out of the ordinary are you, Gregor?" asked Obi-Wan when he stopped to catch his breath, hiding near one of the large windows overlooking the courtyard below. "I don't think I can take any more oddities today. First Cody's memory loss, now Rex" added the Jedi Master, still trying to wrap his head around Cody's apparent memory loss. Maybe it was the hit to the head during the prior battle, or the alcohol from the night before. Either way it was unsettling, although his loyal commander seemed to have some whereabouts. Keeping the boys of the 212th in line.
"No sir" responded Gregor, his response coming a little too quickly. "Just doing my duty protecting the Princess Jedi here" added Gregor attempting to act normally, although he knew some of his actions could be explained away by lasting damage from previous head injuries. Obi-Wan soon poked his head around the corner again, quickly dodging back when Rex passed by asking those around if they'd seen the negotiator. Dread filled Obi-Wan when another Jedi Master pointed right at him, causing him to dart from his position and around the nearest corner.
Howzer coming around the same corner moments later, shortly followed by a confused Mace Windu. Padme shaking her head slightly, as she regained some of her lost composure. Never had she seen the temple in such disarray, although she would admit it was nice seeing a less professional side of the peacekeepers. Howzer's voice soon rang out through the hall as another comment escaped him. "Gonna catch me?" His comment more of a question towards the Jedi Master behind him.
"Thorn, where's my mug" yelled Fox, storming down the hall towards the other commander. Thorn had since stopped singing and dancing, instead acting scared as he held up the ordinary white coffee mug. Although Fox's name had since been crossed out, being replaced with Thorn's own name. Thorn soon skipped off down the hall, giggling like a school girl as he all but taunted Fox with the ordinary white mug. Ignoring Fox yelling at him to come back and all but swearing about losing the mug again.
"And that's my cue" commented Gregor before throwing (Y/N) over his shoulder and walking off. Plo chuckling by the shock squeal to escape the Jedi Knight. Where as Padme and Ahsoka resorting to looking to each other for confirmation, at least to ensure they'd both seen Gregor pick up and all but run off with (Y/N). Anakin on the other hand blinked a few times, beginning to question his own sanity and that of the troopers around him. Slowly he was becoming suspicious, who else was going to act like they'd been hypnotized to act like kids, were his Jedi brethren going to start acting like it too?
"Pretty good view of chaos from up here" commented (Y/N), as she attempted to get comfortable over Gregor's shoulder. Well over Wolffe's shoulder. Although she hadn't voiced it, she was well aware Wolffe was in Gregor's armor, her senses not failing her. The arm securing her legs in place, only tightening as she attempted to wiggle around to gain comfort.
"Not a bad view from this end either" commented Gregor, finding himself glad for the thick armor, as he was sure he would have felt (Y/N)'s foot, thud against his thigh had he not be clad in plastoid.
"If I didn't know any better Captain. I would have thought you were flirting" spoke (Y/N)
"If I didn't know any better I would say you were enjoying it" responded Gregor, placing her back on her feet upon reaching the destination of the courtyard. The rare occasion where it was quiet and as normal tranquil.
"Should I ask why you brought me here?" asked (Y/N), moving to tidying her messed up hair, and straighten out her robes. Gregor on the other hand moved to sit on the steps, in front of the tree, ignoring the benches close by.
"Meditate" retorted Gregor, not bothering to turn around to face her. Although he suspected there would be a response shortly.
"Is that an order?" commented (Y/N), moving to sit at his side.
"Yup"
"I'm known to bend orders" laughed (Y/N), knowing there was truth behind her words. Although her former Jedi Master Plo Koon, always said she had a talent for still getting the job demanded from her done. She still got the needed results even if she did go about it a little differently.
"This will be the first you'll obey" replied Gregor, a playful tone to his voice.
"What makes you think that?" whispered (Y/N) when she was close enough, there was no doubt he'd hear her.
"Cause I asked nicely Princess" breathed Gregor. Almost surprised when the almost famous Jedi Knight seemed to concede and do as she was told, the words Roger Roger escaping her in a sarcastic tone. "Care to accompany me to 79's tonight?"
"Maybe" cheekily responded (Y/N). "Would be nice to see you in your own armor and without said helmet" commented the Jedi Knight, a grin appearing across her lips as she peered over. Seeing as Wolffe stiffened inside Gregor's armor. "Not to worry Commander, my lips are sealed"
"Have to work on that later" flirted Wolffe, as he settled back into the act of being Gregor, imitating his brother's famous laugh mere seconds later. Once again (Y/N) peered over to him, suppressing a chuckle as she attempted to regain her focus. Although it seemed to be a lost course at this point.
The Aftermath
When it come to explain the events of the day before. Some found it far easier than others. Thorn had simply explained it away as having too much caf that morning. He been hyperactive and in the mood to continue his running war with Fox for the prize coffee mug. He explained the flirting with Senator Riyo Chuchi as finding her particularly beautiful the day before.
Wolffe had simply said he'd lost a wager to Rex and had thrust agreed to keep the boys of the 501st in check. As for his armor not fitting properly, he mentioned something about Wrecker playing a prank on him, payback for something to have taken place at 79's before the last deployment.
Cody too had a simple explanation. He'd mentioned he'd visited the medbay upon returning to Coruscant after the last rotation on the battlefield. The headache combined with the hangover of all hangovers. He'd managed to keep the boys in check but his memory was spotty. Thankfully Obi-wan had brought the excuse and let it go after a few days of ensuring he had no after effects from the injury.
Rex on the other hand, almost chocked on his morning caf to learn what Cody had gotten up to in his armor. Although he'd been thankful for his explanation fitting with what had taken place. He'd simply said he'd joined the Obi-Wan fan club, after hearing Cody endless go on and on about how great the Jedi Master was. Cody had attempted to hide behind his datapad, covering his heated cheeks of embarrassment. Of course Rex would say that.
Gregor on the other hand struggled to come up with something when faced with explaining Wolffe's actions to (Y/N). He tripped over his words multiple times before the Jedi Knight had put him out of his misery. Revealing her knowledge of the mischievous dare each had taken part in and thrust knew Wolffe had been her protect the day prior. (Y/N) had spent time reassure Gregor following it, even helping him to come up with something should another Jedi question him.
Howzer almost had a heart attack upon finding out what Thorn had done the day before. He'd almost throttled the Commander to have impersonated him. No flimsy excuse was going to get passed Windu on this one. Nor the other Jedi to have been apart of the briefing. Eventually Howzer settled for being influenced by Rex, Thorn and Gregor, as well as having too much caf that morning. Sending the younglings in the wrong direction had been put down to a light hearted joke, after all everyone knew Howzer had a soft spot for kids.
Echo and Fives on the other hand managed to get hold of the records from the Senate building, Jedi Temple and Military base. Laughing to no end, especially seeing how Gregor had also played silly sods with the civvi medics and admirals while impersonating Thorn. No one had been safe from the chaos Gregor had caused. The recordings of Thorn impersonating Howzer throughout the Jedi Temple were just as funny, especially when Kix pointed out some of the younglings and padawan's had also played along with the game of tag.
Jesse's favorite recording had been of Cody impersonating Rex yelling "Let me love you" while chasing Obi-Wan down the hall. Seeing an array of emotions pass over Anakin's features had brought him to tears with laughter. The blank look, turning to confusion, questioning his own sanity, slight amusement, back to questioning his own sanity then finally settling on enjoying the chaos.
Kix had been the one to point out, both Plo Koon and (Y/N) had likely figured it out but had opted to keep the truth a well guarded. Something Wolffe later confirmed at 79's, (Y/N) also verifying it in her own words, just as she revealed Aalya Secura and Ahsoka had also worked out something was up, but not said anything. Instead both women happy to watch as chaos unfolded. (Y/N) also corroborating to both Echo and Fives, neither Obi-Wan or Anakin were none the wiser about the mischief to test them, just as the unsuspecting victim of Mace Windu had yet to truly put the pieces to together. Even Master Yoda seemed to be content on keeping the truth a guarded secret for now.
Tup had asked for the security recordings, intending on making a few videos of the chaos and sending them to the six to have taken part. He'd also congratulated Fives and Echo on masterminding the whole thing. The duo known as the Domino Twins cementing themselves as the most mischievous pair, thrust finally achieving their goal of overtaking Waxer and Boil. Although both knew the pair from the 212th Legion would eventually fire back in an effort to regain their lost titles.
#Commander Wolffe#Captain Rex#Commander Cody#Commander Thorn#Captain Howzer#Captain Gregor#Anakin Skywalker#Plo Koon#Obi-Wan Kenobi#Ahsoka Tano#Mace Windu#Padme Amidala#Jedi Reader#Star Wars#Star Wars Oneshot#Reader Interactive#Reader Insert#x Jedi Reader#wolffe x reader#cross posted on ao3#cross posted on wattpad#cross posted on quotev
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𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 (𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒)
─── The frigid cold of Orto Plutonia was more tenacious than predicted. But Obi-Wan manages to make it warmer.
Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x F!Reader
Contents: fluff, established (secret) relationship, obi being cute, bullying Ani, one suggestive joke, no beta, 1.2k+
Notes: Takes place sometime during S1E15 :Trespass of the clone wars :) also here’s the original request
“Marker… this a joke.”
The frigid cold of Orto Plutonia was more tenacious than predicted. It swept underneath clothes, chilling and biting at the skin with its coat of frost and endless expanse of snow.
Her hands, she concluded, were the coldest. The gloves the Council had issued were thin, allowing for dexterity to properly yield her saber, but provided no warmth. Her jacket, yet lined with artificial fur, did little overtime to shield them from the wind as she shivered at the bone-chilling gust of wind ruffling through.
She lowered her chin into her scarf and coat, only glancing over to Obi-Wan who shuffled closer to her as Anakin proceeded to complain.
“One. Hilarious. Joke.”
She curled and flexed her fingers, noting how numbness settled into them.
“Argh! Blast!”
She and Obi-Wan turned their heads to shoot Anakin an amused look, but he doesn’t seem to notice, only staring out over the frozen field, looking forlorn.
A series of muttered profanities spewed from him – face a blotchy pink as his arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Anakin did a poor job fighting the shivers racking his body.
She would have laughed at him had her face not been frozen into a similar grimace.
“Something the matter?” Obi-Wan asked, amusement lacing his voice.
“I’m not in the mood for your teasing right now, Master.”
“It’s an honest question. Maybe it’s something to do with how violently you’re shivering.”
“Ah, yes,” Anakin drawled, “must be because of the sun.”
“It is lovely out.”
Harsh and howling, they fell silent when the wind hit them again as they trekked further across the horizon. Anakin could be heard sucking in a pained breath and the sounds of fresh snow crunching under their boots. Even Obi-Wan turned his back sharply against the breeze, shielding both of them while several clones in the distance huddled closer together for warmth.
Anakin groaned loudly, pulling the hood of his jacket further down to shield his face. “Why is it so kriffing cold!”
She was foolish that it was impossible to get any colder than she already was and with a cloud of breath bursting out from her along with a laugh.
“Perhaps it’s because it’s winter,” she shot back, fist curling and uncurling.
A pointed elbow knocked her in the side as he grunted something inaudible.
“Have I mentioned that I hate you?”
“The Jedi cannot hate, Anakin,” Obi-Wan breathly exhaled.
She, however, found herself smirking. “Not since Naboo.”
“Oh,” he drawled, “I’m long overdue then.”
Obi-Wan forced down his smile while keeping his eyes fixated on the building they’ve been monitoring, senses alert and mind ready for impending danger.
“Okay,” Anakin hissed out dryly. He spun around, looking at the General as he slowly began inching his way back down the fill. “I can’t do this. I’m going to see if the Senator or droids need me.”
“May the Force lead you to some warmth, then,” Obi-Wan replied, only to hear Anakin spout how the Force can ‘stick it,’ much to his dismay whose only response was another wearily sigh.
Both Jedi cast one look back towards Anakin’s disappearing outline before reflexively turning towards each other. They drew closer, walking in companionable silence until more violent winds halted them in their tracks.
“Let’s finish securing the base,” he said hurriedly.
Never had she agreed to an order faster.
• • •
Time was easily lost.
They had spent hours making certain the security around the perimeter of the abandoned Republic base was stable and void of any suspects. But even inside it felt colder: the damaged heat generators broke down with long-disused fireplaces.
With what was left, the day eased into dusk as exhaustion wore down on her, the mission becoming far more violent than originally intended.
She pulled herself into a secluded room and stared out to the open sky, catching a glimmer of streaking starlight and letting tranquillity settle through instead before shifting into a meditative state.
Perhaps it was the calling of her name or the unwelcome chill engulfing the little bare skin still exposed, but she snapped out of her reverie as Obi-Wan stepped in, closing the door behind him and stood by her side.
Silence fell around them for a long, blissful moment, letting the stiffness roll from their shoulders.
He turned to her eventually, giving her a thoughtful look and murmuring, "I’ve been looking for you.”
“I tried to find somewhere warmer.”
By her side, her fingers twitched: burning from the cold before rubbing them together in hopes to convert the friction into warmth.
Instinctively, Obi-Wan reached to grasp one, pressing a kiss over her knuckles.
“I told you to pack warm,” he muttered, pulling her close to his chest. She watched his mouth curl upwards.
He beckoned her into his arms, feeling the hot air brush against the nape of her neck while he dipped his head to press a kiss to her jaw and cheek. A shiver thrilled down her spine.
“We could always share body heat later.”
Obi-Wan sighed with a low humming laugh that managed to break out a few giggles from her.
And yet, he continued to observe her with a faux-skeptical arch of his brow, standing beside her with cross arms as though he wrestled internally with a sort of dilemma. He looked at her with a strange intensity and she felt just the slightest brush of his signature against her own.
His fingers raised to tip her chin up, tenderly letting his hand brush against her cheek while his azure gaze greeted her.
“I want to show you something.”
Slowly, he tugged off his gloves before hers – not without protest – as his hands cupped hers into a ball. His eyes fluttered shut as he concentrated: the Force around them shifted, pulling out something deep within Obi-Wan.
A small gasp tore from her.
A flicker of warmth materialized in the space between them while his signature flowed outwards. It ebbed away at the cold filling their bodies with warmth and he continued to emit light.
Like this, with the little light still left to reflect off the blinding white snow, it glinted off strands of his auburn hair and made them burn like gold.
“Better?” he asked, eyes fluttering open with a slight pink hue on his cheeks.
As the cold released her from its hold, her body relaxed into his warm embrace. She could feel her hands again, that dull numbness vanishing the longer he held them.
“Better.”
He hummed and like muscle memory, Obi-Wan briefly let his signature expand out, checking for anyone close before leaning in, pressing warm lips against hers and sliding his hand down the base of her neck.
It was soft, without urgency, and everything felt like an unravelling of heat – open-mouth kisses that held no meaning other than just being content to be near each other, to simply have something just for them at that moment.
She kept breathing him in, feeling her head swim and body effervescent.
It was only the sweeping cold that managed to work past the walls and barrier of warmth that stopped them. Obi-Wan’s signature flickered intensely, feeling another wave of warmth wrapping around her dotingly.
“You have to teach me that one.”
He gently pressed his forehead against hers.
“I don’t know. I like holding you like this.”
#obi wan kenobi#obi wan kenobi x reader#obi wan kenobi x you#obi wan kenobi x y/n#the clone wars#star wars x you#obi wan oneshot#obi wan kenobi fanfiction#kenobi series fanfiction#ewan mcgregor#star wars prequels#star wars fanfiction#ewan mcgregor x reader#star wars x reader#obi wan kenobi fluff#obi wan kenobi series#anakin skywalker#ben kenobi#general kenobi#star wars imagine
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JEALOUSY | OBI-WAN KENOBI
Synopsis: Jealousy. It's an emotion that floods your mind, filling you with anger, possession, envy, and, most of all, hate. All things you have been taught to resist against because such emotions are a path to the dark side. But it's all you feel as you stare into the eyes of Satine Kryze, a woman you've never met before, as she hangs off obi wan like a piece of arm candy. Oh yeah, you're jealous, alright, and you can't do a thing about it.
Warnings: female reader, CW SEASON 2 SPOILER, jealousy, satine, slight angst, eventual fluff, lousy writing, no spice. W/C: 3671
Notes: i just got to the mandalore plot a couple weeks ago, and i can not stand satine. i am taking my emotions out in my writing. not very good, and i know i say this a lot, but truly, this could have been a lot better
star wars masterlist
You were never patient. It was something Obi-Wan chastised you for on numerous occasions. Your impatience taking hold of you was something you've tried to get rid of in various instances, yet it still remained as prominent as ever. That's probably why your feet were tapping nervously against the landing pad. A couple of clones that occupied your side watched your behavior with interest. Most of them were used to your constant restlessness and had come to terms with it being part of your personality. However, your nerves seemed to soar even higher on this occasion, and they could tell.
Obi-Wan was returning from his mission on Mandalore, where the duchess had been accused of siding with the Separatists. Due to Obi-Wan's…history with said duchess, the council sent him to converse with her about the recent events in that system. Your loud protests against their decision to sit you out resulted in Anakin being sent as backup after a bombing had been reported. Now, you awaited them as Duchess Satine and four other neutral senators arrived in the busy city of Coruscant to plead their case to the Senate.
An enormous vessel roared noisily above your head before docking on the pad. The ramp unfolded a moment later, revealing Obi-Wan and Anakin strutting out, their heads held high. Anakin's eyes found yours, and he waved, his hand stretching high above his head, a broad smile overcoming his face.
Obi-Wan caught sight of Anakin's behavior and followed his gaze to what had him so intrigued. When his eyes met yours, they eased instantly, and you could see the thinly veiled relief behind his eyes. A smile of his own twitched at the corners of his mouth as his pace sped up in an effort to reach you sooner.
It didn't surprise you to see the duchess leading the other senators off the ship but what did surprise you was how close she resided to Obi-Wan's side. The Duchess Satine, who you've never seen in person, was beautiful. Her blonde hair tied up into a tight headpiece that resided upon her head, displaying her culture proudly. The rest of her outfit matched her headdress, the colors consisting of elegant shades of blue and purple that dripped over her perfect figure. Even from a distance, you could see the pride that sparkled in her eyes, exhibiting her love for who you could guess by how she virtually hung off Obi-Wan, who it was directed at.
You felt your mood deflate faster than a balloon, your irises instantly losing their existing gleam. You felt a feeling, one you weren't acquainted with, wrap like tendrils around your mind, squeezing every insecurity to the forefront of your head. It was an ugly feeling that didn't belong among your happiness and joy that seemed to disappear when she left the ship, chatting excitedly with your master. And even though a minuscule thought in the back of your mind noticed how Obi-Wan remained transfixed on you, robotically nodding his head to whatever she was saying, his attention solely fixated on you. As soon as the thought arose, you extinguished it. Why would he be more focused on you, with such a beautiful woman at his side? Sure, you were his lover, but the secrecy tied a noose around your neck. The pressure of the rope was a constant reminder of how your futures as Jedi were balancing on a knife edge. Yet as Obi-Wan neared, his sparkling aquamarine eyes never dimmed, your thoughts doing nothing to aid you.
Obi-Wan's smile slipped as he noticed your lack of response to his arrival. He had fantasized about arriving home and seeing your face light up in delight at the thought of seeing him again. It was a reaction he had come to expect, and his mind wandered to the possibilities of what could have put you in such a sour mood.
And before you knew it, Obi-Wan embraced you, letting his powerful arms cocoon around you, sheathing you in their warmth and safety. You tried to relax to savor the feeling of your love by your side. However, your insecurities bubbled to the surface, leaving you in a mixture of gloom and cowardice. The professional amount of time allotted for a hug passed in seconds as he pulled away, concern filling his striking features.
"Master," you addressed him, bowing at the waist ever so slightly.
"Little one." Obi-Wan returned your gesture with ease. "Duchess, this is my padawan, Y/N L/N."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, my lady," you bowed your head, and she slightly bristled at the formalities. You glimpsed at Obi-Wan to find him equally as surprised as you at her utter dismissal of you.
The senators behind her meet up with Chancellor Palpatine, loudly chatting as they near their transport. Anakin looked over his former master's shoulder before engulfing you in a hug, which you eagerly returned.
"Hi there," he laughed, and you found yourself laughing along with him. You nestled your head into Anakin's shoulder, inhaling the smell of dirt and ashes that seemed to stick to his robes. Obi-Wan furrowed his brows at your enthusiasm to see Anakin, a feeling he did not expect to recognize bubbling from the depths of his gut. His mind bristled with prospects of your mood change as you two pulled apart, smiling at each other.
The duchess bowed her head at you, turning away a second later. You could, for only a moment, see the flash of an unknown emotion cross her face. You could tell from the brief moment you did see it that it was something to disdain directed at you.
Her attention shifted to Obi-Wan, who had moved to your side.
"How ironic to meet again only to find we're on opposing sides," she solemnly noted.
"The needs of your people are all that matter," Obi-Wan replied, "They couldn't be in better hands with you to guide their future."
"Kind words indeed from a mindful and committed Jedi," she commented, taking another step forward, "And yet..." Satine placed a manicured finger on her red lips, looking down at the floor.
"What?" he asked, much too eagerly than you would have preferred. You felt that feeling in your chest stir once more, and your loathing for the woman you hardly knew grow with every passing second. Anakin seemed to be the only one to notice the increasing emotion emanating from you during their interaction. With increasing amusement, he watched your hand clench and unclench into fists. It was so apparent that you were jealous that he fought the urge to roll his eyes. Hell, he could feel its slight ripple in the force. It wasn't strong enough for anyone else to pick up on, but he knew you well enough to put the pieces together.
"I'm still not sure about the beard," she finished, stepping up to him. She reached out, her hand running down his jaw and over the prickly hair that tickled your face every time you kissed. Your jaw clenched. That was something only you did. Only you ran your hands over his neatly trimmed facial hair, admiring every feature on his face and placing feather-light kisses on every crease, indent, and scar he bore. The feeling you've now identified as jealousy rolled in waves over your heart.
"Why, what's wrong with it?" Obi-Wan sincerely asked, the crease between his eyebrows deepening. You grew more envious when he genuinely invested himself in every word she spoke, as if she was a preacher and he was her faithful follower, taking every word from her makeup-stained lips to heart. It was how he acted when you spoke, and now he looked at her how he looks at you like you hung every star in the sky, which made the cracks in your heart expand; the jealousy starting to wither into insecurity.
"It hides too much of your handsome face." She cupped his cheek gingerly, her hand brushing over his cheekbone. Obi-Wan made no attempts to move it or swat it away like he would with any other person who touched him without his permission. No, from your view, he invited such a touch, letting her soft honeyed words hang in the air. Her hand reluctantly slipped off his face, and she turned back, heading in the direction where her escort awaited her.
Anakin's inquisitive irises diverted to Obi-Wan, who watched as the duchess left without so much as turning back. He chuckled at Obi-Wan's dumbfounded expression, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"What was that all about?" he asked, following his master's stare at the woman. Anakin's eyes flitted to your figure, and your expression made his heart sink into his stomach, his curiosity draining into something much more sullen. From an outsider's point of view, you remained unaffected by the interaction, looking with disinterest at the duchess as she bored the transport, but to Anakin, he saw beyond the thickly built wall you had placed between your exterior and your emotions. He could see the underlying insecurity that filled your eyes, and he could feel it in your presence. It was vague enough that you had to put the concentration into your signature to recognize it, but your jealousy ebbed away into something much more consuming; uncertainty. His sympathy grew as you turned away, hurrying through the double doors and into the Temple, leaving Obi-Wan and him alone on the platform.
Obi-Wan turned around, fully expecting to face you, only to meet with Anakin, whose previously teasing expression had vanished into solemnity.
"Where did Y/N wander off to?" Obi-Wan asked, his blue irises scrutinizing the platform for any sign of you.
"She left while you were ogling the duchess." Anakin crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing with distaste.
"I was not ogling her, Anakin," he scoffed, "Why did she leave?" His own nervousness grew at your sudden disappearance. Something was very, very wrong, and from your facial expression when he arrived to now, he was at a loss as to what was transpiring inside your pretty head.
"Well, if you weren't too busy giving heart eyes to your "old friend," then you would know that for yourself."
"Don't say it like that, Anakin. We are nothing more than friends." He scoffs, his hand running down the scratchy hair of his beard.
"Yes, because you just let anyone touch your face, no less your beard."
"She did that of her own volition Anakin. I-" he attempted to defend himself once more, feeling his patience wearing thin.
"You didn't stop her."
"Why are you arguing with me? It was a harmless action."
"That's what you think."
It clicked. At that moment, your behavior clicked in Obi-Wan's mind, and he knew the root of your sudden behavior change. You were jealous.
His realization must have been reflected in his features because Anakin patted his back. "I'll leave you to it."
He signaled for Rex and headed inside the building with him, making conversation as the doors closed. As Obi-Wan began to move to try and find you, a clone called out his name. He turned around, folding his arms over his chest.
"Sir, the council is requesting your presence." Obi-Wan nodded, and the clone took off in the other direction, saluting his superior before they descended into chatter. Now it was Obi-Wan's turn to steam in his irritation. He knew giving you time to simmer in your jealousy would only intensify the feeling. He needed to talk matters over now, but the council wouldn't accept Obi-Wan's late arrival. He huffed, storming off toward the Temple, where the council would be awaiting his arrival.
—
Night had fallen, and the stars danced above Obi-Wan as he speeds to your apartment in an un-composed jumble of nerves. Every second he's spent on his journey to you, his thoughts have whirled around different possible scenarios on what he could say, playing the interaction back in his mind. He should have known Satine, a ghost from his past would be a touchy subject for you. It's not that he never intended for you to find out; he just never found the right time to discuss it. You two were always so busy with the council, training, then now the war that your alone time was reserved for sleeping after a long day. It wasn't ideal, but you made it work, which is one of the many things he admires about you; your willingness to compromise.
He should have known. That was all he could think about as he tried to control his pace in the Temple for fear of someone seeing him in such a hurry. Of course, Satine would have tried to rekindle the old flame of love they once had when he was merely a padawan learner. It made sense, a history like that wasn't easily forgotten, but she was oblivious to his attempts to subtly deflect her advances the entire time he was on Mandalore. She didn't appear to get the memo on the landing pad, instead pushing her affections further.
He should have known Satine's very apparent feelings would stir up jealousy. Having endured other padawan's advances towards you, he was no stranger to the emotion. Now it was his turn to give you the comfort you needed.
His hand wrapped against the white steel of your door, fiddling with his fingers while he anxiously waits for a response. There is none, not even movement from inside.
His fist knocks on the door once more, his dread building as he is met with silence. He knew you were in the room. He could feel your force signature tainted with feelings of contempt swirling around the small apartment. He sighed, running his hand down his face, his eyes bouncing about the corridor. Obi-Wan dug out his spare key and placed it in the lock. It clicked as he stuffed the key back in his robes, taking the cold metal between his fingers.
What did he intend to say anyways? He used to harbor feelings of attachment for the quick-witted woman, but now he only cares for you? Care would not be the right word to accurately describe the depth of his senses. He loved you with every fiber of his being. He loved you, yet you didn't know how far he had fallen. Maybe that was due to the insecurity you didn't feel as deeply as he did, which placed a heavy weight on his heart. He shook his head. That's far from what he should be worrying about. He just needed to tell you the truth, no matter how you reacted.
And with that, he turned the handle and strode in. Your apartment looked like any other, plain with minimal furniture that was as lackluster as every other flat the Jedi were gifted.
"Little one?" he called, shutting the door behind him. It automatically locked while he took a step forward. He sensed your presence concentrated in your bedroom, but before he could step further into your apartment, the door swung open, revealing you in all of your beauty.
"What, master?" you responded, venom lacing your words, and his heart plunged into his stomach at the use of his title. You only use it in public. No matter how mad or angry you were, you never crossed the line into formalities unless you had to. His chest squeezed as he fought the sadness building in his chest at your fiery glare. He never wanted to be the source of your sadness, frustration, or negative emotions, and it killed him to see you in this state because of him.
"Can we talk?" he calmly asked, catching the way your face twisted. Please, he begged through the force.
It felt as though someone was repeatedly stabbing his heart, over and over, while he stared at your expression. You masked your heartbrokenness with a false rage. He could see through the internal struggle behind your eyes as you sifted through your emotions to try and find an appropriate response to his plea. Finally, you pushed yourself off the doorway and back into your room, the door still ajar.
"My dear?" he questioned, unsure of your intentions. Did you want him to follow you? He opened the door further to allow more space to enter. Your profile was silhouetted by the iridescent glow of the moon and artificial light as you sat on your bed, your eyes fixed on a particular spot on the floor. "My dear?" he called, in a softer voice, careful not to startle you. Your eyes lifted, liquid pools of a dazzling color meeting his murky blue. His breath hitched in his throat at the sight of you. Maker, how pure you appeared, sitting so patiently for him while your facade of anger dissolved, leaving your raw emotions of self-consciousness and insecurity behind.
He sat on the bed, next to you, finding himself unable to meet your eyes as they stared at the same spot on the floor.
"I didn't realize you and the duchess..." you muttered, unable to finish the harsh sentence, and Obi-Wan winced. He had everything to lose by discussing this particular argument; by everything, he meant you.
"In my days as a padawan learner, I was sent to Mandalore with my master for a year. The details of the mission are...cruel. The system was in turmoil, to put it simply. At that time, Satine and I had developed feelings for one another. It never progressed into anything more, and when I left, I had forgotten about her to focus on my training once more." Obi-Wan felt like he was stumbling over his words, desperate for you to understand. He tried to reach out with the force but was met with your guard firmly in place, preventing him from wrapping his force signature around your mind like he's done a hundred times before.
"I never loved her, my darling. That was in the past, something that had been buried under the life I'm building with you. She tried to renew something that was never there. Don't you see, my love? You're the only person I dream about at night, the only one I long to hold. The only one I fantasize about kissing. You're the only one I love."
Your head whipped around, your eyes as wide as saucers as you met his. Obi-Wan's eyes glistened with sincerity, and you slowly felt him disable your guard. Both of you knew that you shared this emotion with one another but had never spoken about it before. There was something sacred about those words, so dangerous but oh, so alluring because you had never loved anyone before. You didn't know how to express an emotion that carried such inexplicable weight in words, so you never did. Yet, they hung in the air, like a promise of something more, and you found yourself enraptured by it.
"How do I know that you aren't lying? Hm?" Infuriated tears were beginning to brim in your eyes. You sniffed, your leg bouncing erratically while you turned away from his empathic gaze. Obi-Wan's face fell, the corners of his mouth weighed down by the grief in his head. Years without the feeling of love, without anyone displaying how deeply you mattered, have led you to doubt his own confession's validity. It shattered his heart that he was the first person to tell you such a thing, leaving you believing that you were unlovable.
Obi-Wan's hand brushes against your face, urging you to look at him. You turn your head, and he lowers his hand, cupping your jaw with a raw tenderness that makes all of your fears melt from your head. For a moment, he sits there, eyes closed, breathing your air, and you can feel the pulse in his fingertips. You feel the quickness of his breath and the slight hitch as it catches. He seems nervous.
His lips almost hesitantly meet yours. After kissing hundreds of times, this one seems to have a level of intimacy the others couldn't possibly possess. There was a hidden vow on his lips, one that you chased after to uncover. He unraveled the emotions he had been too afraid to display, so profound and unrefined you couldn't imagine anyone else feeling this way. There was passion, admiration, devotion, purity, connection, and most of all, love that he untangled so tenderly that you felt like you would melt.
His mind was a blank slate, just reeling over the sensation of your rose petal lips over his. You tasted nothing sort of divine as heat flows through his veins, fueling his desire while he tries to convey every ounce of love he bears, a blissful feeling filling his heart. A wonderful whimper was released from your mouth, sending goosebumps down his arms.
He very slowly pulls back, releasing your lips with a wet pop. Obi-Wan glides his hand underneath your chin, running his thumb admiringly across your bottom lip.
"I love you, my dear," Obi-Wan whispers, "please never doubt that again."
"Never."
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