Tumgik
#obi wan kenobi one shot
make-me-imagine · 1 year
Text
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
Tumblr media
-
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!
General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @rexit-mo, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry
Star Wars & Obi-Wan Taglist: @hoeforthefictional, @asgardianhobbit98, @agent-catfish-kenobi, @maellem, @locke-writes, @stargirl-05, @linkxneptune, @skylions-den, @sardonic-the-writer, @emptyflowerpots, @hoodedbirdie, @gatefleet
497 notes · View notes
peterparkersnose · 1 year
Text
Caught
pairing: Obi Wan Kenobi x Amadala!reader
word count: 1k
warnings: nudity, embarrassment, fluff at the beginning, sexual references, age gap sort of referenced
a/n first obi wan fic. i hope i didnt make padme too mean, it wasnt my intention. i havent watched the prequels in over a month and i tend to forget character aspects sometimes. also this takes place at the castle anakin and padme got married in (and the only place where i will ever get married Villa del Balbianello if your interested)
summary Padme’s prized younger sister Y/N gets caught after a night with Obi Wan.
masterlist
join the tag list
read time: 3 mins 39 seconds
Tumblr media
“Why couldn’t we had just sent a droid?” Anakin whined, following Padmé.
“It’s better to communicate through words. More respectful. I’m sure Master Obi Wan won’t mind.” Padmé said confidently. Her dress swayed perfectly behind her and her heels clicked as Anakin sulked following her down the hallway.
“But he’s the late one!”
“Yes, but I’m sure he just over slept. Come on,” Padmé said, trying to calm down Anakin. Obi Wan rarely messed up, and when he did Anakin did not deal with it lightly.
The two reached Obi Wan’s door to his quarters. Just as Padmé was about to raise her hand to knock on the door, Anakin grabbed her wrist softly.
“Wait. Listen,” he whispered. The silence stung their ears as Padmé tried to listen to what Anakin was saying.
“Or shall I pin it here?” Obi Wan asked, picking up a side of his sheet and pretending to pin it over your shoulder.
Your giggle rung through the room and bounced off the wall. You stood at his private balcony, covered only in his sheer tan bed sheet.
“I liked the strapless better,” you said sweetly, tucking the sheet under your arm once again. “Such a fashionista,” Obi Wan smiled, gazing out over the rural mountain. “Who taught you that word?” you asked, turning to walk towards him.
As you took a step, you tripped over the sheet and the dress began to unravel. Your skin became exposed to the bright morning sun. Nothing to hide around Obi Wan, it’s not like he hadn’t seen it before.
“No! Not my beautiful work,” Obi Wan sighed jokingly, lazily helping you bunch up the sheet on his knees. You grabbed his scruffy chin with your fingers, grabbing his attention to your face.
Your eyes seemed to entwine. His expression turned soft, leaving his eyes wanting for your lips. Bending down and keeping your hand on his chin, you softly kissed him.
Then the knock came on the door.
“Who’s that?” you panicked, freezing in your position.
Obi Wan was a Jedi. He wasn’t supposed to be with anyone according to Jedi law. The relationship you two had was kept a secret. Sometimes you liked it. Something the two of you shared and nobody else knew. It was special. Other times it drove you nuts. You wanted a ring on your finger more than anything. You would always ask “Well Anakin and Padmé…” but he would always come up with an excuse. “We can’t be as irresponsible as the two of them,”
“Calm down, my love. Breakfast,” he sighed, waving his hand. The big wooden door flew open. You expected a droid carrying a tray of food.
Instead you were met by the horrified faces of your sister and brother in law.
You shouted, ripping the sheets from Obi Wan’s hands and covering your exposed breasts and rolling back on your hips, covering yourself as much as possible. It wouldn’t help, the cat was already out of the bag.
Padmé was going to kill you. She had always been protective of you ever since you were little. She was older than you by a few years. She was the Queen, and you listened to her. Seeing her sister naked on the floor with one of the men she most respected was most definitely going to set her off. She was not about to let you make the same mistakes she did.
“Y/N…?” Padmé asked, her hand now covering her agape mouth. “It’s not what it looks like,” Obi Wan said, raising his hands in a defensive pose.
Padmé had never seen you like this before. She had expected you to keep your purity until marriage and marry for political reasons. Not to be tangled up with a Jedi. She had just caught her younger sister after very obviously hooking up with someone. And not just someone, that someone was Obi Wan. Your stomach felt like knots just waiting for her reaction.
“Mé’, what are you doing here?” you gritted through your teeth. “I could ask the same for you!” she yelled. “Get dressed.”
Tears began to well in your eyes. “Y/N,” Obi Wan sighed, reaching for your hand. You flung his hand, rejecting his request.
“Where is my dress?” you asked, shoveling through the other blankets on the bed. “I-I believe we left it by the pool last night, my dear.” Obi Wan answered.
You looked up back to Padme. She was standing with her hand on her brow, hips cocked against the door frame. Anakin was standing now farther back in the hallway, but you could still see his cheeky smile. “The pool?” she asked angrily. You were about to answer but then she raised her hand. “Nevermind. I don’t want to know.”
“I do,” Anakin whispered from the back. She promptly elbowed him in the ribcage, he let out a small oof. 
Your heart sank at the sight. You had disappointed the one person you wanted to make proud.
“Here,” Obi Wan said, gathering your green long sleeved dress from his drawer. “How long has this been going on?” Padmé exclaimed, shocked that he had a stash of your clothes in his room.
“Uhm…”
“Since the wedding?” Obi Wan asked you. “Around there, yeah.” you agreed.
Padmé’s eyes almost popped out of her head. “My wedding was over six months ago!”
“Sorry,” you muttered, raising the straps on your dress.
“So does this mean there’s no training today?” Anakin asked, piping up behind Padmé’s shoulders. Obi Wan shot him a death glare. He knew he wouldn’t hear the end of this.
“Let’s go,” Padmé said, grabbing the back of your arm and guiding you quickly out of the room.
“Dude,” Anakin said, smirking at Obi Wan. “Leave.” he sighed, holding his hand up and flicking his wrist. “Are we going to be brother in laws?” he asked, hanging on the doorframe.
Padmé was expecting him to follow and they were getting a little too far away. Anakin struggled remembering all the hallways in this big castle.
Obi Wan sighed. He rubbed his brow with the back of his hand. “If Padmé doesn’t kill me, then just maybe.”
Anakin smirked at Obi Wan.
“Don’t tell her I said that!” he yelled after Anakin.
“No promises!” Anakin yelled from the hallway.
-
all posts @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise
872 notes · View notes
bellarkeselection · 9 months
Text
If I wasn't busy with college assignments, I would be writing for Obi-Wan again 🤣
Tumblr media
176 notes · View notes
countrymusiclover · 11 months
Text
How I miss writing for Star Wars and Obi-Wan Kenobi ❤️ If any has any books suggestions I'll gladly take some
Tumblr media Tumblr media
43 notes · View notes
ravensliterature · 2 years
Text
Mission Failed Successfully?
Tumblr media
A/N: Hehe I posted again
pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader
warnings: Violence, description of wound
w/c: 2743
Prompt: You and Obi-Wan go on a mission but things don’t really go according to plan. Will you make it out in one piece? 
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You did not want to go on this mission with Obi-Wan. It wasn't that you didn't like him, you actually did a lot. It could even be said that you liked your fellow Jedi too much to the point of concern. You had no idea if he felt the same way and you never were going to ask. You knew it was wrong and were content with his company. 
The mission was supposed to be simple enough. There were slavers Tatooine who were raiding villages and taking the villagers as slaves and captives. They were also apparently forced senstive according to some reports. Your job was to stop their activities and free the captives. 
Currently, you were on your ship sailing to Tatooine. The ship was on autopilot as you and Obi-Wan talked in the cockpit. 
"So what are you thinking about Y/N?" Obi asked, breaking the silence.
"Oh um nothing really," you replied awkwardly. Your face heating up. Damn Obi for being perceptive.
Obi looked at you skeptically and raised his eyebrows. "I think I know better."
Your cheeks grew hotter and you couldn't say anything else before Obi turned to look ahead again. Your hands clenched around your knees and your lips pursed together in annoyance and embarrassment. Obi would find out anyway since it was impossible to hide something from Obi. You hated when he did this. He would always figure out everything so it's better not to bother trying to keep secrets.
"You've been spacing out a lot lately, are you nervous about the mission?" He questioned. His eyes were still forward on the ship.
"No," you lied. Well, you weren't sure exactly what to say. Maybe you should tell him the truth? No that wouldn't make sense either, why lie now? You sighed defeatedly. "Fine fine," you groaned, looking down in defeat. "I guess my heart is beating really fast because of anxiety or something." That sounded believable enough to Obi.
"Do you have any problems you need help with, Y/N?" He asked, still not turning to look at you. You shook your head.
"No, but can we talk about something else?" You asked, your voice soft and barely above a whisper.
He glanced at you before returning his attention forward to the stars. "Sure, just don't feel pressured to speak about anything, Y/N." He assured. Your mouth slightly parted before you snapped it shut again. "What do you want to talk about?" He continued. He wanted to change the topic so he could get to know you more. 
"Uh well," you started. "Have you ever seen a holofilm called Love Actually?" You asked.
Obi laughed a little before replying. "Actually yes I have." This caused you to turn to look at him in surprise.
A few weeks ago during one of the missions, there was an incident in a cantina on Tatooine where a gang was fighting over the women in the bar. The weird thing is that he would not stop talking about an old holofilm called Love Actually. You an Obi-Wan after that mission vowed that you both needed to watch this film. 
"What did you think?"
" You asked. Obi shrugged before answering you.
"It's pretty good," he answered honestly.
"Really?" You exclaimed in disbelief. "I never pegged you as a Jedi interested in romance films!" 
"They're just a genre.  Besides, I'm quite fond of them." He explained while grinning. His smile seemed contagious and you found yourself smiling too. "There is something about them... They just make you wonder..." 
 He trailed off before shaking his head, dismissing his musings and wants. 
"Wonder what?" You pressed curiously.
"Nothing important, Y/N." He answered shortly.
"You're such a bad liar." You retorted playfully. Obi chuckled softly under his breath, a small smirk making its way onto his lips.
"You always can tell."  He stated before returning back to gazing at the stars. The silence lingered between the two of you and neither of you dared to break it. Eventually, Obi broke the silence by saying, "So you haven't watched it yet have you?"
You chuckled. "Not yet," you confessed. "But now I have to with your glowing review!" You joked. Obi glared playfully at you but eventually gave in a smile, laughing along with you. "Well if you're really that curious, we should watch it together sometime." You said matter of factly.
"Okay," Obi answered without hesitation.
You both joked and laughed discussing various movies that you decided you need to watch together. You ended up telling him all about your favorite movies and how you thought they were better than others. In exchange, he told you all about movies like Titanic which he enjoyed greatly. As usual, your conversation quickly drifted away from the film and towards each other.
"Can I ask you something?" You questioned hesitantly. You had a feeling that you'll regret asking, but this was Obi so you probably had to continue anyways.
"Hmm?" Obi hummed inquisitively, glancing up at you.
"Do you ever wonder about what life would be like if you weren't a Jedi? " You questioned quietly.
Obi looked surprised.
"Like what would your job be? Where would you live? Who would you be with?"
" You asked, knowing full well the answer. But you felt like you needed to hear him say it anyways.
"Y/N…"
Your breath caught in your throat when Obi looked at you, his eyes searching for something you did not know.  You waited patiently, hoping for a response.
"…I would have been very happy with someone like you." He answered quietly. It seemed like he was struggling to say it.
"Someone like me?" You repeated, your heart skipping a beat. Did you read him wrong?
"Yes. Someone… special."
His eyes searched yours for a sign of uncertainty or doubt. Finding none, he continued speaking. "For years you inspired me to do more as a Jedi. You helped to give me purpose." His words warmed your heart. Even though you knew he meant well, you still didn't feel like he fully realized the extent of his feelings toward you. "You showed me how wonderful living could be." He added before leaning in closer to you.
You closed your eyes and held your breath, unsure whether or not you should respond.
"But... We are Jedi." You were finally forced out.
You opened your eyes and saw Obi staring right at you, waiting for you to continue.
"We fight evil, we save people. We are nothing more than a soldier." You concluded. A tear slipped down your cheek as a single word echoed in your mind.
Silence loomed once again in the cockpit until you saw Tatooine in your sight.  
"This is it," you mumbled to yourself. 
--- 
You and Obi-Wan were on the perimeter of the town, seeing where your best advantage is. The slavers had all their captives huddle together guns pointing to their heads. They were also force sensitive so that was nice for you both. You had to be extra cautious. 
Obi took out his lightsaber, holding it against his palm as he approached a group of the men with his head tilted slightly upward. You followed behind closely, staying in the shadows and ready to attack when necessary.
Apparently, Obi-Wan was not as stealthy because when they saw him they immediately started firing. Obi ducked out of the way to avoid being hit by the bullets. He grabbed the captive closest to him, pulling them out of harm's way with him to safety. You went to attack the next target but Obi shot you a look, signaling you to stay put.
You stood where you were but didn't move. You watched as Obi ran up to another group of the slavers and fought them with ease. His movements looked natural. You wondered what kind of training he received to be this graceful.
As you observed the battle going on, you heard a loud scream coming from one of the captives, causing you to snap out of your observation.
You jumped forward, using your force push to jump over the bodies of the fallen slavers who tried to shoot you. Once you landed on the ground you scanned the area, desperately looking for the victim you came here for.
 When you saw her lying unconscious on the ground you instantly rushed over to her side. She was clearly injured judging by the large bleeding gash across her forehead and the dried blood caked across her face. You checked her pulse and breathing, relieved to find that they were both stable although weak. 
You crouched beside her body as you reached into your belt pocket for some bandages and disinfectant. You used the disinfectant on the wound first and then proceeded to wrap some medical tape around her arms to protect them from further damage. She should be fine for now. 
You quickly looked around to survey the area and saw that there were about five slavers left and that they were surrounding Obi-Wan.
 You gritted your teeth and pulled out your lightsaber, trying to save Obi-Wan from the remaining slavers.  You charged at one and slashed him across his abdomen, earning you a cry of pain from the man. When he fell to the ground, the rest of the men started shooting at you.
You dodged every bullet that flew by and slashed and cut at whoever was nearest to you.
That was until you felt a main in your abdomen. With a yell of pain, you fell to the ground with your saber clutched in your hand. Before anyone else got close to you, you ignited your blade and cut through the attacker. 
Obi-Wan rushed to your side and tried to support you but your feet were beginning to fail to keep you up.  You grunted loudly as you tried to stand upright once again. Your breathing was heavy, and beads of sweat began forming on your brow.
"Y/N..." Obi whispered worriedly. You smiled at your friend despite your current condition.
"Don't worry; I've fine." You reassured him. 
"Well, you don't look fine," Obi stated while examining your injury. He glanced at one of his fallen enemies and kicked him harshly in the stomach. After kicking him once again for good measure, he turned his attention back to you. "Let's get you back to the ship. Can you stay conscious for me?"
You nodded. He picked you up bridal style with little effort and carried you towards the ship. He sat down on one of the medical tables in the small medical room. You winced slightly when Obi touched the gash on your abdomen, causing you to wince even more. The laser caused the wound to cauterize but it was deep. Very deep. 
"I'm calling for the medic bot, okay?" He said while caressing your cheek gently with his thumb. Your gaze flickered over to him, a gentle smile tugging at the corner of your lips.
"Yeah." You breathed. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead.
"You remember the movie Love Actually?" You asked but your voice was rough. 
He chuckled lightly as he recalled the holofilm. "Of course I do."
You grinned, your eyes crinkling at the edges, and his heart melted at that moment.
"Promise me that we will watch it. If not now, somewhere else."  You requested. He smiled softly.
"If that is your wish then I'll grant it." He hated saying stuff like that. You were going to be fine.  You couldn't die. He wouldn't let you. There was no way. Not after everything that happened.
Your eyelids began to start to feel heavy.  You leaned against him with a sigh of relief. You wanted to tell him that you loved him. That you always will love him. To tell him that you loved him. But you weren't sure if you were strong enough to make that statement yet. Right now you just wanted to sleep.
"Hey, you gotta keep those eyes open for me, Y/N,"   Obi spoke softly, a sad smile plastered onto his face. Your heart swelled at his words as he brushed his thumbs over your cheeks comfortingly.  "Please."
The last thing you remembered before you passed out was the sound of Obi's soft voice telling you to hold on.
--- 
It was definitely too bright. You groaned loudly when you awoke to the blinding light above you. Everything hurt. Your whole body ached. And even more, your abdomen hurt. The only thought that came to mind was that the last thing you remembered was getting shot and then passing out. You opened your eyes slowly and blinked a few times. The brightness of the lights made you grimace and squeeze your eyes shut again.
Suddenly you heard voices, muffled and unfamiliar. Opening your eyes again, you squinted to see if the light would help but you still could barely see anything due to how blurry it was.
"How is she?" A familiar voice asked.
"She'll be fine, Obi-Wan. She just needs some rest." 
"Fine? She's been unconscious for three days!" 
"Again, she just needs rest. I'll check on her again to see if her vitals change but she will recover completely." 
The door could be heard opening with swift footsteps slowly becoming further and further away. You thought that they had both left until some of the footsteps appeared to be coming closer to you.
"Y/N?"
A warm touch rested on top of your hand. You blinked once to try and focus on your vision.  As soon as your eyes were able to focus, you saw two blue orbs staring back at you. 
"Obi." You choked out, reaching up to cup his face. You pulled him down to lean your foreheads against each other.
You closed your eyes, taking a shuddering breath. You missed his warmth.
"Are you alright?" His voice was laced with concern and his eyes searched yours intensely.
"I'm...fine...Just..." You trailed off, clearing your throat. You opened your mouth to speak again but paused, he was very close.  You closed your eyes again, leaning your forehead against his and enjoying his presence. You inhaled his intoxicating scent deeply, trying to memorize every detail.
You slowly lifted your head and gave him a sweet smile. "Thank you. For saving my life. I...wasn't sure that I was going make it..."
His expression softened at your words. "You're safe now."
You shook your head and sighed tiredly. "Obi-Wan, I was so scared... I need to tell you something..."
His eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "Y/N, Tell me what?"
You began to glance at his lips. 
"Obi..." You trailed off before placing your fingers lightly on his jawline, closing the gap between you, and pressed your lips to his softly. 
You knew exactly what your decision meant. You were hoping that he would return your feelings.
However, Obi wasn't moving at all as he continued to stare at you. He had frozen completely in place as he watched your lips on his. This didn't mean that he didn't want this, he did. It was just that he was shocked. 
"Y/N, you do know what this means. We are Jedi. If we do this..."  He trailed off as he swallowed nervously.
You nodded slowly, knowing exactly where he was going with this.
"I want to. I want to live I life that I know when I die, I can say it was worth it."  You said, gazing intently into his eyes.
Obi gazed down at you, studying your beautiful features closely. He noticed that your pupils were dilated and your skin was glowing faintly with health and strength that he was scared wouldn't come back.
"If we get found out, we'll have to leave the order."  He stated firmly.  
"For you, it is a risk I am willing to take." You replied. His face lit up at your words and he leaned down to place a small kiss on your forehead.  You felt the tingle in your chest that accompanied the feeling.
"Then I shall follow your lead, Y/N.  Together we shall bring balance to the Force."
You leaned up to capture his lips again, savoring the taste of him. He reciprocated immediately as the kiss deepened.
Eventually, you broke apart, resting your hands on his shoulders as he cupped your face with his hands.
"What now?" You questioned.
"Now...let's go home."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Submit a request here
113 notes · View notes
klarex · 2 years
Text
I'm sorry that there wasn't any fics in a while, but it's slowly getting to the end of holidays and I will be going back to school ;-;.
Genre: fluff
Warnings: swearing, annoying kids younglings
Summary: You were going to meet up with Obi-wan, but someone made you late.
Paring: Obi-wan x Jedi! reader
I will never let you go
Tumblr media
Pov. Y/n
Today was a really tiring day. I helped Master Yoda with younglings who were really, I mean Really energetic and stubborn. But they were nice and funny tho. They never failed to make me smile or laugh.
Now, I was heading out of the training room, we used for training younglings. I was tired as fuck! My shoulders were dropped, my head looking down at a floor and I quietly groaned. I stopped walking and stretched a little. I could feel that I was not alone.
Then Mike ran to me. Mike was a youngling who loved to sneak away from the group to talk to older Padawans or Masters. He was brave, but also unwise. When he sneak away and later get catch, Master Yoda would tell him how this mustn't happen again. He feel guilty, but after few hours it just fade away, letting him do it again.
I sighed and turned my head to him, sending him a fake smile.
I was supposed to meet Obi.. but I see he has to wait..
- MASTER L/N!!!
He shouted and hugged my legs. I patted his head and pulled him away. I crouched next to him.
- What are you doing here, Mike? You were supposed to go and eat lunch with your group.
I tried to say as calm as I could, which I did perfectly. I grabbed his shoulders in my hands and he looked down at his feet while playing with his fingers.
- I- I just wanted to talk to you and ask you something Master...
He said still looking down. I tilted my head slightly.
- What is it, Mike?
He looked at me with sad eyes.
- Am I ever going to become a great Jedi?
He said, his eyes getting wet, almost like he could break in any second.
- Oh.. Mike. You will. I'm sure you will. But the way to become one is not that easy as it may looks. You need to believe in yourself, because you are strong enough.
I said smiling and Mike hugged me tightly.
- Now, come on.. let's get you back to your friends..
I said softly, and gently picked him up. He wrapped his small arms around my neck and we slowly made our way to the cafeteria.
While walking we shared laughs and smiles, but we finally made it to the room. I gently put him down and watched him interact with his friends.
- For Mike sorry I am, Y/n. A lesson learn he should.
Master Yoda said.
- I don't think it's necessary Master. I talked to him.
I said with a smile, looking at laughing Mike.
- He just needed someone to talk to..
I said it quieter and looked back at Master Yoda.
- Mm. To hear that happy I am. Now meet with Master Kenobi you should. Waiting for you he was.
Master Yoda said and I bowed.
- Thank you Master.
He nodded and I turned around, only to see Obi-wan sitting next to one of the tables, looking at younglings playing. A smile creeping on his face. I slowly made my way to him, exhaustion filling my body again.
His head snapped my way, when he saw me walking his way. He smile grew wilder, but he frowned his brows. I sat next to him and let my head fell on the table as I groaned.
- Are you okey, Y/n? Does someone said something bad?
He asked, rubbing my back gently. I smiled and turned my head to him.
- No.. I'm fine.. It just- This day is exhausting and I haven't really slept well...
- Are you sure it's nothing more?
He asked and I nodded, putting my head back down on the table. Suddenly my stomach rumbled.
- Before you fall asleep on this table, I think you should eat something.
He said with a chuckle. He stood up and walked somewhere. My head was still on a table and my eyes were closed. Minutes later Obi-wan sat back down, next to me.
- Can you put your head up?
He said softly and I did what he asked for. I looked at him and later at a plate he put in front of me. It had sandwiches with cheese, ham and lettuce. I smiled and grabbed one, bringing it to my mouth. I took a bite and looked at Obi-wan who was already looking at me.
- What?
I asked with my mouth full. He smiled.
- Nothing.
He said and grabbed his sandwich. When we ate Obi-wan decided to walk me to my headquarters so I can rest.
The walk there was rather peaceful. We passed a few Padawans and Masters and greeted them. Later we entered my headquarters and I throw myself on a couch. I lay on my stomach and my face was buried in a pillow.
- I don't think it is a good place to sleep for you, Y/n.
He said as he crouched next to the couch, near my head.
- You think?
I said, my voice muffled by a pillow. Then I felt to strong arms wrapping around my body. He lifted me a little and I squeaked.
- Shh.. I got you.
He said calmly and I brought myself closer to his chest and hugged him tightly. He slowly made his way to my bedroom. He used the Force to open the door and went inside. He gently put me on my bed, but I didn't let him go. He sighed.
- Can you let me go?
- Never.
I smirked and pulled him into me. He squeaked as he landed next to me, face in pillows. I laughed and ran my fingers through his soft hair. His shoulders tensed, but after some time he relaxed himself and sighed deeply. I made myself comfortable by laying on my side. He turned his face towards me and lay on his side too. I ran my hand down to his cheek, caressing it. He melted into my touch and pulled me closer to him by my waist.
Our faces were centimeters away from each other. I saw that he looked at my lips and back at my eyes. I lean in and pressed my lips to his. He hummed in kiss and he placed his hand behind my head, pulling me closer if that's even possible. My legs wrapped around his. The kiss was full of emotion and passion for each other. When we pulled away he kissed my forehead.
- Go to sleep darling... You need to rest..
He said softly as I closed my eyes.
- So do you........ I love you...
I mumbled into his chest half awake.
- I love you too...
He said and I fell asleep.
masterlist
74 notes · View notes
Text
Three Times Obi-Wan Didn’t Like You, and One Time He Did
Hi! So this is the first thing I’ve posted on here for over a year, and I’m excited to share it with you!! I haven’t seen the Obi-Wan Kenobi show yet (I know, I need to get Disney+ so I can enjoy it), but he is always on my mind, so here’s a fairly lengthy Obi-Wan Kenobi one-shot. Hope you enjoy :)
Warnings: angst (think post order 66), enemies to friends/almost lovers, fluff but make it sad
WC: almost 3.1k
Tumblr media
ONE
It was the annual Padawan Fighting Tournament. Every year, just for fun, all of the current Padawans would fight each other in a bracket style tournament. All of the Jedi that were on the planet would come watch, both to see who would hopefully grow to become their newest Jedi Knights, but also to have a chance to place their responsibilities to the side and enjoy themselves. The Padawans loved it too; any chance they could get to show off to their peers, they would take. Obi-Wan had won last year, beating out Quinlan Vos for the top spot. He was confident that he would come out of top once more.
As he expected, he was one of the top two contenders. But the other one surprised him. It was you, Ki-Adi Mundi’s new Padawan, and from what he had heard from his peers, you were quite the force to be reckoned with. But he was still confident. You were brand new, and he had been last year’s winner.
Each year, a different Jedi did the announcing for the contest. This year was Master Windu’s turn. Qui-Gon and Ki-Adi Mundi were standing to the side, talking, though Obi-Wan couldn’t understand what they were saying.
Windu cleared his throat, making the room fall into silence as he announced, “Alright, Jedi, it’s time for the final round of the annual Padawan Fighting Tournament. Our first competitor is last year’s champion, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padawan of Qui-Gon Jinn!”
Obi-Wan walked into their practice fighting ring with a smile as cheers echoed across the room. Qui-Gon shot him a thumbs up from the side, which he returned.
“Our second competitor is vying for their first win, it’s (Y/n) (Y/l/n), Padawan of Ki-Adi Mundi!”
When Obi-Wan laid eyes on you, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. You entered the ring with a cocky swagger, a smug grin stretched across your lips and your lightsaber hooked onto your belt. Your hair, which was dyed green, was pulled back from your face so he could see the twinkle of mischief in your eyes. He saw you and Master Mundi make a gesture toward each other before you turned to him.
“Ready to lose, Kenobi?”
Oh, he already didn’t like you.
“In your dreams.”
“Ignite your sabers!” called Master Windu.
The blue light of Obi-Wan’s lightsaber reflected off of his face while purple reflected off of yours. Your smirk deepened as Obi-Wan glared at you, determination crossing his features.
“Begin!”
At the signal from Windu, you immediately threw yourself at him.
Rookie mistake, making the first attack.
As it turned out, it wasn’t a mistake. Though at first your technique wasn’t able to break through his masterful use of soresu, going first allowed you to have more time to learn each of his little quirks. How when one of his eyebrows quirked up, he would switch his lightsaber to that side of his body. How when he smirked slightly, he would go in for a feint before changing the direction of his attack. You smirked. Though it had taken you a bit longer than with your previous opponents, now you knew when you could could strike. Immediately, you launched into your own masterful control of the ataru style, doing flips, spins, and other acrobatic maneuvers to throw him off. With every eyebrow raise, you would switch sides before him, allowing you opportunities to attack. The speed with which you slashed your lightsaber took his by surprise, and Obi-Wan soon found himself struggling to keep up. With expert speed and agility, you successfully disarmed him, Obi-Wan’s lightsaber clattering to the ground just outside the reaches of the fighting ring.
“And we have a new champion, (Y/n) (Y/l/n)! Congratulations on your first win!” exclaimed Windu.
You stood up with a smirk, offering your hand to Obi-Wan to shake, “Good fight. Might want to work on your technique, though, soresu is no match for ataru.”
Obi-Wan frowned, his brow creasing as he responded, “No need to be so rude. You already won.”
“Bitter?”
He glowered, “I wouldn’t mind so much if you weren’t so cocky about it.”
But because the other Masters and Padawans were watching, he begrudgingly shook your hand.
Oh yeah, he definitely didn’t like you.
TWO
It was the very beginning of the Clone Wars. His hair was still long, and Anakin had only just passed his trials a few short days ago. Now, he was being sent out on a diplomatic mission to the planet of Aaleen to attempt to gain their loyalty. And he got to go along with his favorite Jedi Master.
“Oh, don’t look so excited to be paired up with me,” you chastised.
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, “Oh, why wouldn’t I be excited to work with you?”
Yeah, your relationship hadn’t improved since that lightsaber fight.
“Come on, R4!” you shouted to your droid.
The little, green R4 unit sidled up to you, beeping happily. Obi-Wan smiled a little bit at the droid’s appearance. Though he didn’t like you, R4-P42 and R4-P17 worked together well. When their droids joined you, you each hopped into your Delta 7 starfighters, yours the same shade of green as your droid.
“See you there, Kenobi. Bet I’ll make it first,” you taunted before embarking from the landing pad.
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes before following suit.
When he finally landed on the desert surface of Aaleen, you were already there, climbing out of your starfighter.
“Too slow!” you shouted.
“Does everything have to be a game with you?” he yelled back, climbing out of his own starfighter.
“Only with you. You’re just too easy to rile up,” you countered.
“Whatever,” he muttered, gesturing for his droid to stay with the ship.
The two of you walked for an hour until you reached a town, but there was no one there.
“It’s like a ghost town,” Obi-Wan said in a hushed voice.
“You don’t think the Aleena have already been taken by the Separatists, do you?” you asked softly.
“Perhaps they have,” he mused, “but we will have to do a bit more investigating to find out.”
As if on cue, two destroyers rolled up to them and started blasting. You could hear the marching of metallic feet approaching you from the other direction. Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber and began deflecting blaster shots from the droidekas and turned to you hoping you would do the same.
But you weren’t there.
A type of rage that only boiled over when he worked with you bubbled up inside of him. Of course you left. He had no idea where you had gone, all he knew is that he was now alone. The droids closed in on him from the other side as he did his best to stay standing. But Obi-Wan was shot down by pure numbers. The blaster shot to his leg made him fall to the ground in pain.
But all he could feel was anger.
He knew it wasn’t right, as a Jedi. But he couldn’t help himself when you had left.
“You’re under arrest, Jedi!” one of the battle droids cried as they all pointed their blasters at him.
Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak when he heard an “I don’t think so” from beside them.
There you stood, along with all of the Aleena that were held prisoner by the droids.
“You’re gonna regret ever stepping foot on this planet, Separatists,” you growled before launching yourselves into the droids.
The Aleena were also enthusiastic about helping, climbing onto battle droids and ripping them apart as you slashed through them with your lightsaber, casting a purple glow onto your enemies. With the help of the Aleena, it didn’t take long before all of the battle droids were destroyed.
“Thank you for the help,” you spoke.
Though you knew the Aleena didn’t understand you, you stick out your hand to their leader, which he took and shook with a wide-mouthed smile. The Aleena returned to their homes, leaving you and Obi-Wan in the middle of the road.
You leaned down over Obi-Wan, waving your hand over his blaster wound and healing it with the power of the Force. Immediately, he got to his feet, glaring at you.
“You left me alone with an entire company of droids?!”
“I went to go find the citizens and save them! You were a good distraction for the droids!!”
“You let me get injured!!”
“I just healed you!! A thank you would be nice!”
“I’m not thanking you for an injury that I got because of you!!”
It was your turn to roll your eyes, “Ungrateful. That’s what you are.”
Obi-Wan shook his head, “Insufferable. That’s what you are.”
Thankfully, the negotiations with the Aleena were short, and soon you and Obi-Wan were allowed to part. Until the next time you were unfortunately paired together.
THREE
“Leave it to you to get us stuck in this situation!”
“Leave it to you to blame me for everything!”
Obi-Wan shook his head, looking at the chains the two of you were clasped in, “You were the one flying us when we got caught in that tractor beam!!”
“How was I supposed to know that Grievous would catch us in a tractor beam? I was a bit too busy trying to shake all of the kriffing vulture droids that were trying to shoot us out of the sky!!” you argued, tugging on your bonds.
“It would’ve been better for us to get shot out of the sky than end up in in Grievous’ clutches,” he stated.
“Well I’m sorry for trying to keep us alive then,” you snapped.
You and Obi-Wan had been sent on another diplomatic mission together. While the mission itself was a success, and you managed to keep the planet you had visited on the side of the Republic, Grievous’ troops had found your ship on your way back to Coruscant and successfully captured you.
The bonds you two were in were connected. Obi-Wan had been in these particular ones before, except the previous time it had been with Anakin and Count Dooku. This time, he was stuck with you. He wasn’t sure who was worse: you or Dooku. Yeah, he really didn’t like you
“Well it’s done now,” he muttered, “now why don’t we try to find a way out of here?”
“I was just getting there, Kenobi. If you had let me talk instead of chastising me, I could’ve told you my plan.”
“Which is?”
“I have already alerted the 38th about our capture via a hidden tracker in my cloaks. Me and my men all have one on us that we only turn on when we have been taken by the enemy. It has saved my troopers more than once. Since they know you are with me, they will bring the 212th with them. Once we hear them arrive, we can break out of the cell since his troops didn’t have the foresight to chain us with restraints meant for Force-sensitives, and meet up with them somewhere on the ship. I’d say we should break out now, but there are too many droids crawling in this place for us to make it out safely. Then we can locate our ship and lightsabers and escape,” you explained.
He nodded, “For once, I actually agree with your plan. Don’t expect it to happen again.”
“I’m flattered, Kenobi,” you said sarcastically.
The two of you sat in silence after that, waiting around for your troops to get there.
Until you decided to break the silence.
“Why do you hate me so much?”
Obi-Wan was taken aback, “What?”
“Since the moment we met, you hated me. But I’ve never really known why,” you explained.
“Well, first of all, I don’t hate you. I merely strongly dislike you,” that earned a snort from you, “second, I dislike you because when we first met, you beat me in a fight and immediately gained a superiority complex. I’m fine with losing in a fight, but if you’re cocky about your victory, that’s what I’ve got a problem with. And you’ve treated me the same way ever since.”
You nod, processing his words, “I see.”
“Why don’t you like me then?” he asked you.
“Similar reasons, to be completely honest. Ever since I beat you in that fight, you’ve been doing everything in your power to prove that you’re better than me every time we’re paired together for something. You dismiss my ideas, and even if they go right, you always find something to complain about. And quite honestly, though I know it’s not the Jedi way, it pisses me off.”
Obi-Wan chuckled at your last statement, “I understand. I often get angry at you as well, even though I know I’m not supposed to.”
You think for a second, and then respond, “Well, now that we know what upsets each other, maybe we could try to work on it?”
He raised a brow, “You want to try not disliking each other for once?”
“Yeah. It would save our sanity, and I’m sure the council wouldn’t complain.”
“Alright. Then I suppose we could give it a try.”
Maybe you weren’t so bad after all.
FOUR
Obi-Wan was lonely.
Though his hut on Tatooine was small, it felt far too big when he was alone.
It left him far too much space for his thoughts.
He felt empty. Everything he knew and loved was gone. The Jedi Order was vanquished. The galaxy was in complete ruin. And he felt like it was his fault for allowing his former Padawan and brother to fall to the Dark Side. He had failed him.
Obi-Wan hadn’t seen another Jedi in years. The only one he knew had survived Order 66 was Yoda. To his knowledge, everyone else was gone. He wasn’t allowed to see Luke, as the Lars made it very clear they didn’t want him anywhere near the boy. He barely interacted with anyone anymore, keeping to himself as to avoid detection from the Empire.
It was another day of this lonely existence. He worked at his job for meager pay, interacting with customers as little as he could, and then headed home for a small meal.
But his cabinets were bare.
Obi-Wan curses under his breath. He hated making any additional trips into town. It was more of a chance he could be recognized. But he had to eat.
He arrived in town and went to one of the small food stands to purchase a few things to at least get him by for the day. He’d go shopping for more substantial food tomorrow after work. As he paid for his things, he happened to look around and noticed something odd.
It was a person wearing a thick gray cloak. There were all kinds of suspicious characters on Tatooine, so that wasn’t what made him freeze.
It was the familiar green tinge of the person’s hair, and when they turned around, Obi-Wan was met with a face he hadn’t seen in years.
You.
He felt like he could cry. When the two of you had agreed to try and get along, you had ended up becoming good friends. But he hadn’t known what had happened to you after Order 66.
And here you were, right in front of him.
You were just as shocked as him. Though the auburn of his hair was beginning to get taken over by gray, the brilliant blue of his eyes was unmistakable. When the two of you locked eyes in the crowd, Obi-Wan gestured to you to come with him. After he finished buying his food, he walked back to the rickety speeder he had bought to get around on this godforsaken planet. You met him there, knowing that you should go with him. It was too dangerous to talk to him out in the open. He helped you clamber onto the speeder and drove you back to his small home.
As soon as you got off of the vehicle, you flung your arms around him, desperate for some form of human contact from your many years of isolation. Obi-Wan was surprised, but wrapped his arms around you in return, needing the contact just as much as you.
“What are you doing here?” he asked you.
“The Empire found me in my old hiding spot on Endor and I had to run. I came here because I thought no one else would be here. But I’m glad you are, Obi-Wan. I haven’t seen anyone from the Order in years,” you explained, “how did you end up here?”
“I went into hiding on Tatooine in order to watch over Luke, Anakin’s son. Though his family hasn’t exactly taken kindly to me, so I can only watch from a distance. Anyway, please come inside. You must be tired from your journey.”
“Tired doesn’t even begin to explain it.”
Obi-Wan understood the weight your voice carried. It was frustration, loneliness, fear, and sadness. All of the things he was also feeling. He shared the food with you he had bought earlier that day, though you had tried to refuse.
“You bought this for yourself, Obi-Wan, I couldn’t possibly take it from you.”
“Please eat, (Y/n). I’m just happy to have someone to share with.”
You smiled sadly, giving in at his words. You understood the loneliness that came with isolation. So you ate together and caught up on the many years that had gone by since you had been apart.
It had become sunset before you knew it. While you watched the twin suns sink low in the sky, Obi-Wan studied you. Your silhouette was highlighted by the low light, but he could still see all of your features. The wrinkles that had begun to form on your face, the grays starting to appear in your still bright green hair, your battle scarred hands that gripped your chair.
“Why are you looking at me?”
He smiled, “I suppose I’m just still surprised that you’re here. And happy. Quite happy.”
You smiled back, “Me too, Obi-Wan. Me too.”
He moved his chair beside yours, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You leaned onto his shoulder, your smile growing slightly wider as his lips brushed against your forehead. You hoped he’d let you stick around for a little while. If he willed it, you’d like to stick around for the rest of your life.
132 notes · View notes
hayden-christensen · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
OBI-WAN KENOBI (2022) Cinematography by Chung-Hoon Chung
@pscentral event 26: minimalism
2K notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
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!
Tumblr media
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.
Tumblr media
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
735 notes · View notes
sendpseuds · 2 months
Text
Same age knights AU where Obi-Wan is pretty sure Anakin is being groomed by a Sith Lord, even though they’ve been extinct for millennia and no one believes him.
He tries to warn his friend [well, they’re more frienamies but Obi-Wan’s not just going to let Skywalker fall to the dark side] but, unsurprisingly, Anakin doesn’t believe him. He calls Obi-Wan’s warning a pathetic jealous trick and “what do you know about the Sith anyway?”
Fine. Obi-Wan will learn everything there is to know about the Sith if it means he can stop this idiot from becoming an even bigger pain in the ass than he already is. He’ll learn their ways, confirm his suspicions, collect his evidence—
But there’s a problem.
The more Obi-Wan learns, the more sense it makes.
All he’d meant to do was prevent Anakin Skywalker’s fall.
He certainly hadn’t meant to trigger his own.
154 notes · View notes
padawansuggest · 6 months
Text
Aayla and Anakin are the siblings beating the shit outta each other in the background of all of Obi-Wan and Quinlan’s holocalls and family pictures they are required to take whenever they’re all in temple to document their babies growing up. Ahsoka and Rex are the siblings committing WWE moves on each other but also if one of them actually gets hurt they either spoil the other, or bribe them not to tell Skywalker.
192 notes · View notes
garagesesh · 4 months
Text
when we are together
Tumblr media
pairing(s): obi wan kenobi x (f!) reader
summary: a glimpse in the life of anakin’s best friends three years after mustafar
warning(s): angst lol
a/n: this is kind of a part two to my anakin story. i have been absent apologies i started school again and a part time job :,) plus the holidays was a horror. idk if this is good or not it’s just been on my mind. title is from the 1975. 
␛ to masterlist
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Tatooine
16 ABY
The binoculars clicked as you scanned the barren wastelands of Tatooine. The binary suns already beginning to dip beyond the horizon and the desert chill billowed through your sand colored robes.
Where was he?
You couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling that he had been found.
By him.
By Vader.
Goosebumps spread across your skin, your hair standing at attention in fear. This couldn’t be the end, you wanted to reach for the force, for comfort, for calm.
Three standard years had passed somewhat quietly and without much incident. The child was doing well, growing steadily in the peaceful home just over the mountains.
The anticipation of danger without knowing where Obi-Wan was and the looming threat of him and his Empire had washed any sort of safety.
Through the binoculars, a spot that was moving at rapid pace rose just above the horizon
A speeder, not of your own came across the desolate sand and rock.
Faster and faster it sped towards you. Glimpsing one last time into the binoculars before completely discarding them in your robes, your breathing hitched and your hand reached for the blaster hidden in your belt.
You didn’t raise to aim but you waited with a finger on the trigger. The speeder got louder and closer. Barreling towards you at unprecedented speed.
A figure with a dark hood and a heavy pack was now identifiable. Sighing you slipped the blaster back into the hidden holster, crossing your arms over your chest. Waiting.
“You scared the living stars out of me!” You huffed. “You know that?!” 
Obi-Wan Kenobi didn’t say anything as he powered the speeder down.
“You could’ve commed!” Your hands found your hips. Disappointed and mostly anxious. “Where were you and what is this?”
“Mos Eisley.” Obi-Wan sighed as he gracefully slid off the speeder. He nodded towards the faded-brown speeder. It wasn’t by any means a brand new speeder, it had blaster marks and sand erosion but it was nicer than the old piece of junk you two had salvaged from the Jundland wastes.
“We had a perfectly good one.”
“This one is faster and actually a two seater.” He countered
“We don’t have the credits Obi-Wan!”
“I’ll pick up a second job.”
Always the negotiator.
Huffing you left the older man with the speeder, vanishing into the hut to continue the dinner that was boiling on the stove. Rations again.
Stirring the pot of rice, you lost yourself into the swirls of brown and white. Letting the steam envelope your fear. Only did a warm hand on your waist, trying to squeeze by in the small surroundings pull you out.
“Excuse me.” You hummed as his hand dragged off your waist.
The hut was small, enough space for the two of you but none for a third. The entrance of the home opened to the living room, where in one corner was a makeshift bedroom that was concealed by a blanket you had found. You shared the bed. He had tried for the first cycle on Tatooine to sleep on the small, uncomfortable couch before you finally offered the other side of the bed.
The other corner was a small dining table with two chairs. The kitchen was a step up and had a window into the living space and only one bathroom that was old and needed work.
But it was home.
You ate in silence, feeling guilty of your outburst from earlier.
“I’m sorry for my reaction earlier. I was harsh.”
“It’s alright.” He gracefully spooned the soup into his mouth without another word. Obi-Wan cleared the plates and cleaned the dishes, humming a soft tune.
It wasn’t until you had both showered, hair still damp and covered in the blankets of your shared bed, you finally broke the silence.
“I checked on him while you were gone.” Your finger delicately traced the small constellations of freckles on his warm shoulder. “I wasn’t sure if you had or not.”
Obi-Wan shifted. “Thank you.”
“He’s so big now.”
“Yes, he is.”
“I can feel him in the force.” You could feel the buzz of the young boys force. Powerful and strong. You didn’t have to reach in to feel him.
“He’s very strong.” Obi-Wan shifted once more, his entire body now facing your own. His large, calloused hand reached into your hair, his thumb wiping away tears you hadn’t know had fallen.
“You feel it too?” You whispered.
“Yes.” He smiled bitterly. “I can feel his presence even now. I’m worried about his strength and what would happen if…”
Obi-Wan trailed off, unable to say the name out loud. Afraid to bring forth the man in existence right then and there in your shared bed.
“Vader.” You whispered for him.
He nodded, his hand still entwined.
Silence enveloped you once more. The blue light of the moon shining through the slotted windows and onto your faces.
“I’m scared.” You admitted, holding his gaze. “Lonely.”
He said nothing in return. His deep blue eyes scanned your face.
After three years, you had shared a last name. Paraded as a married couple to neighbors. Held hands through the market. Light touches as he brushed by. Held you sometimes at night.
But nothing more.
Obi-Wan’s hand untangled from your hair and down the slope of your neck. His thumb caressing the contour of your collarbone.
You thought he was going to kiss you. Finally slot his lips onto your own and maybe even take you right then.
But his hand completely withdrew from you, leaving the warm skin now bitter cold.
“Goodnight, y/n.” He turned over, his bare back now facing you.
“Goodnight, Ben.”
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
␛ to masterlist | can I interest you in pt. 2?
91 notes · View notes
bellarkeselection · 4 months
Text
Our Little Kenobi part 2
Tumblr media
Part 1
Part 3
Request from @starvingbrokestudent Can you do a super sweet pregnancy fic with Obi Wan? Like the reader finds out she’s pregnant after fertility issues and Obi Wan is just so excited?! And how they try to keep it a secret from the council and eventually she has a baby boy?
Sitting down in my chair in the council room I was currently the only person in the room. The meeting didn't start for another few minutes and I was getting slower with the pregnancy. My reflexes weren't as sharp and sooner or later others would notice too. I heard footsteps coming around the corner but my shoulders loosened seeing Obi-Wan. He sits down next to me sending me a look. “How are you feeling today, Y/n?”
“I have been throwing up all morning to be honest. I barely made it to this.” I responded to him rubbing my eyes trying to wake myself up.
Obi wan sent me a sad smile. “I'm sorry for causing you discomfort.”
“I don’t regret the night we spent together. I just wish it didn't make me sick every morning.” I reassured my fellow jedi master.
He nodded, clasping his hands together staring at me until we heard more footsteps coming towards the large and open room. I saw Yoda and Windu come inside and the other Jedi master members followed their heels. They sat down in their chairs where I began feeling nervous and twiddled my fingers together in my lap. “Looking at the war effort we have. Need someone to rescue Jabas son we do.”
“Master L/n, we have considered you since you are the most fluent in his language.” Windu explained looking in my direction.
Yoda pointed his finger at me. “Most useful you will be on this you will be.”
“Oh masters, I am not sure I can go.” I stuttered running a hand through my hair feeling my face turning red trying to not make it obvious of the reason why.
Obi wan kept his cool, sitting more upright on his chair. It had been a few months since I had told him I was pregnant with his soon to be child. We knew the rules that we had vowed to the council and the laws that were in place. “Do you care to tell us why that is exactly?”
“Oh uh…I have been feeling sick the last couple of weeks. I suppose it must be a stomach bug.” I clasped my hands together in my lap.
Yoda tapped his fingers on his chin. “Understand it is. Rest and get better you should. Send Kenobi in your place we shall.”
“Forgive me, Master Yoda. But I must back out as well. I have sworn to train some of the younglings months before the war started.” He held his hands up placing his hands on his knees praying that they couldn’t sense his nervousness.
Master Windu rose to his feet but he doesn’t seem angry or suspicious of the responses we had given him. “We understand you’re commitment, Master Kenobi. We will decide someone else to begin the search for Jabba's son to prevent a war with his army against the Republic.”
“Thank you for understanding, Masters.” I bowed my head rising to my feet before leaving the room.
Obi wan had got to his feet too doing the same but he would go in the opposite direction of where I had and wait a few minutes for them to clear the room. Then he would follow me back to my quarters like we had talked about the night before. I sat down on the edge of my bed burying my face in my hands. “We can’t possibly keep this up forever…it’s just not possible.”
“I wish that you weren’t right about that.” Whipping my head towards the voice I saw Obi Wan had slipped his way into my room without me knowing.
Slumping my shoulders I signed laying down on my back counting the lines on the ceiling till he came over and the bed dipped at his new weight. “Obi wan…I didn’t hear you come in.”
“That’s not a bad thing when we have something to hide from the council. I am just glad that they don’t seem to suspect anything.” He responded by running his hands through his locks.
Turning my head in his direction I said what we were both trying not to think about. The fact that we may have to abandon our entire lives here because of the infant. “Obi-Wan, we'll have to leave here won't we?”
“If anyone on the council suspects us. Yes we will have too. I'll have to break my promise to Qui Gon to train Anakin…to honor my promise to remain by your side now and for however long our lives may last.” He interviewed his hands together in his lap.
I paused just watching him take in a few breaths. Obi-Wan and I had been friends for years so it was almost impossible for us to not fall in love with each other. We knew the other inside and out. We were bonded together, possibly even for life. But not yet in marriage. Over the past few weeks I had been deciding I wanted to be given his last name. I wanted my child to be able to address as a full born Kenobi. Reaching up I touched his shoulder making him look at me. “Obi, there's something I wanna do.”
“What is it, my darling?” He asked softly.
Leaning forward I kissed him quietly for a moment and he leaned into the kiss smiling till I drew back. “I know you already asked me to marry you so let’s do it this evening. I wish to become your wife tonight.”
“Who would we get to perform the ceremony?”
“Padme, she and Anakin had R2D2 and C3po do their wedding.” I replied.
Obi wan paused before rising to his feet and he held his hands out to me helping me stand up with him. I squeezed his hands before he leaned down kissing my forehead leaving the room going to find the members that we needed. “I’ll get everything set and ready. I’ll see you in your dress later, Y/n.” As soon as I had told Padme she was over the moon even giving me one of her very first princess dresses to wear as my wedding gown. Obi wan decided that we should get married on the temple roof at sunset which I found very romantic in my opinion.
Padme and Anakin were standing in the center of the roof with Obi wan by his padawan. C-3PO was standing in the center of the group. R2D2 was rolling in front of me, throwing some flowers until he reached the others. Obi wan lifted his head and immediately was at a loss for words seeing me before him. The dress I had on had long sleeves that were made of lace and I had a short heel on with my hair loose except for two strands tired back. Padme wiped away some tears. “I don’t think much needs to be said here. All of us who are here right now know that these two wouldn’t be doing this if they didn’t really love one another. So the vows if you would.”
“Y/n, I love you more than I thought I could anyone. And I have to say I am so grateful that I now join my life with yours.” Obi wan intertwined my hands with his, slipping the wedding band on my ring finger.
Squeezing my hands that were holding mine I chuckled, slipping the band on his finger trying to not cry too much on the borrowed dress from my best friend. “I love you to the stars, Obi. I know we didn’t plan the baby. But we have always been a good pair together so I am so excited to be your wife after today.”
“It is my great pleasure to now pronounce you husband and wife.” Padme declares looking at Anakin.
He smiled between the two of us. “Obi-wan and Y/n Kenobi sounds rather good to me.”
@notsentimentalll
66 notes · View notes
countrymusiclover · 1 year
Text
As I have said I might be changing the new Obi-Wan book I am trying to write let me know which one
13 notes · View notes
legobenkenobi · 1 year
Text
the thing about Cody following Tatooine that fucking kills me is the amount of dedication and love and real happiness they bring each other is so strong not even Literal mind control could stop it.
it took a Sith Lords most thought out, long drawn plan to even get them apart, and it didn’t fucking stick because Cody loved Obi-Wan SO much that he tracked him down to fucking Tatooine and spent the rest of his life protecting him. because that’s how much they love each other
there’s literally no toxicity corrupting their relationship. it’s so strong and steady and good that it just keeps on going no matter what. every outside force that tears them apart ends up failing because they have a real genuine trust and respect and it’s pure. it completely contrasts everything else in the galaxy.
522 notes · View notes
klarex · 2 years
Text
Another Obi-wan fic! You can tell I'm a cuddly person by this ;)
Genre: fluff
Warnings: none
Summary: You are cold so you stole Obi's cloak.
Paring: Obi-wan x fem! reader
Cold
Tumblr media
Pov. Y/n
- Y/N!!!
I heard Obi shouting from our bedroom.
- Yes, honey?
I asked while laying on sofa, reading a book. I was wearing his cloak, cause it is pretty cold. I heard his footsteps coming closer.
- Have you seen my cloa-
He didn't even finish and looked at me with his beautiful blue eyes.
- Is- is that my cloak, darling?
- Maybe it is..
I said and closed my book, placing it on a table next to me. He chuckled and sat next to me. I sat up and cuddled up to him.
- Y/n, you are really cold..
He said and wrapped his arms around my waist.
- Mmm...
I melted into his touch and softly played with his hair. I gently kissed his chin, later his cheek, nose and lips.
- Y/n..?
- Hmm?
- I have a Council meeting..
I groaned and pulled away from him. I slowly pulled his cloak off my shoulders and handed it to him. He smiled and wrapped a blanket around me, giving me a kiss on a forhead.
- I will be back soon..
He said and I nodded. He walked out our headquarters and I layed back down.
Pov. Obi-wan
After hour or so I was back to our headquarters.
- I'm back darling!
I said, but got nothing in response. I slowly entered the living room and looked at a sofa where Y/n was sitting before. I wasn't wrong that I find her there. She was wrapped in a blanket with her eyes closed. I smiled and sat on a edge of a sofa, but she opened her eyes.
- Hello there, sleepyhead.
I said with a smile while she rubbed her eyes.
- Hi...
She said tiredly. I wrapped my arms around her to bring her head on my lap. I looked into her e/c eyes with love.
- You are so beautiful, Y/n...
I said with a dreamly sigh and she giggled.
- And so are you Master Kenobi..
We stayed like this for a moment, with me playing with her hair, and her with my fingers.
- Can we go to bed, Obi? I'm pretty tired..
She said with a yawn. I chuckled.
- Of course, darling..
I said and I stood up with her in my arms. I took her to our bedroom and placed her on a bed. She went under the covers while I took off my robes. I jumped on a bed and went under the covers too.
She quickly cuddled up to me, placing her hand on my bare chest and a leg between mine. I put one hand on her waist and the other under her head. I looked deeply into her eyes. I slowly leaned in, closing my eyes and I kissed her. Kiss was slow and full of love. She put her other hand behind my head playing with my hair. We pulled away when we needed to breathe. I placed my forhead on hers.
- I love you, Obi..
- I love you too, Y/n..
masterlist
105 notes · View notes