#obi wan kenobi x you

[murdockussy]

Could you do an enemies to lovers one shot where obi has been in love with the reader for a while but she doesn’t know it?

And I wouldn’t mind some spice please hehe

AHHHH this request is perfect!! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write this one up, but I hope you enjoy reading it!!

(I am open to taking any requests, head to my masterlist to read more about it :))

Room 24

Angsty, smutty lil Obi Wan Kenobi x Reader enemies to lovers one shot where he fell for the reader first!

Warnings: a little arguing here and there, but we love a jealous Kenobi moment

Words: 8,900ish

If you could gather every emotion you felt towards Obi Wan Kenobi, you were almost certain you’d be left with a burning heap of seething hot hatred – almost. 

Ever since your first interaction all those years ago, you - young and naïve, heart hammering in your chest as were introduced to your peers inside the Jedi Temple for the first time, and him – a lean short haired boy with platted stand of hair falling down his neck, disapproving stare watching your ever move as you were welcomed into the group of young Jedi’s– you knew that Obi Wan Kenobi was going to be anything but your friend. 

The more time you spent around him, the more you were able to register his arrogance. How he always stuck to his allegiance, leaving little room for mistakes. Before you, he was always top of the class, earning the position of one of the most skilled and wise Jedi’s for his age, but all that changed the day you arrived on Coruscant.  

Although you were slightly younger than your peers and were considerably inexperienced, you refused to let that stop you, you using your gifted skills to quickly climb to the top, soaring above those who’d been in the same field as you for far longer than you have.  

And that angered Obi Wan to no extent. The same Council members who once showered him with endless praise, bringing him alongside missions that were far out of the league of his peers, were now giving you – someone who just less than a year prior had no knowledge of what a Jedi even was – the same treatment. 

He couldn’t understand how you did it, and for that his hatred towards you grew. Sure, you were skilled, you could yield a lightsaber well, your aim with blasters was precise, and your bond with the force was as strong as his, but how you were able to achieve his level of expertise in the time you’d been there left him baffled.  

As the years passed, you grew to know each other quite well – you know what they say, keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. You’d keep a close eye on him during missions, watching the muscles on his arms flex as he’d wave the glowing saber in defense, face stern and focused, and in return, he’d do the same, studying the patterns of your fighting style, the way your chest heaved as the loose strands of hair would cascade onto your face with each spin and duck.  

You both unraveled each other's perks and quirks and seen one another in the best and worst of times, yet no matter how well one of you knew the other, the hatred was always there, evident and unwavering, you both making it known to each other that hate was the only emotion you held for one another – nothing else. 

And it always remained that way... that was until Obi Wan came to the realisation that maybe his feelings were a masquerade for something much deeper 

On a night when the moons shone brightly above the Jedi Temple when half of the Council returned from an off-planet meeting, Obi Wans Padawan Anakin was solemnly waiting for his Master's return in their shared apartment when a sudden uproar caught his attention. He traced the shouting to the entrance of the room, opening the door of their living quarters to find his Master and yourself standing opposite one another, an angered expression mirrored on both of your faces. 

“... If you hadn’t been so selfish, I could’ve taken him out with ease” you shouted, one hand resting on your hip while the other poked at Kenobi’s chest. 

“With ease? I’m starting to believe your delusions have reached new heights, because from my memory, they had you tied up to a post, wi-” 

“But I got out! Freed myself! Something you would’ve seen if you weren’t so preoccupied trying to be the hero – again!” 

“There’s a difference between trying to be a hero, and actually being one, something you wouldn’t kno-” 

As amused as he was, Anakin stepped out of the doorway, yourself and Obi Wan falling silent once the Padawan made his presence known. Greeting yourself and his Master, he leant against the wall beside you both with a playful grin. 

“If you wish to continue, I'd suggest taking this indoors. People do want to get some sleep at night, believe it or not” 

Just as Obi Wan began to scold his Padawan, you interrupted, your feet dragging you backwards slowly as you spoke, “No need. It’s pointless trying to get through to him anyway. Goodnight, Anakin” 

Pushing past the young boy beside him, Obi Wan walked through the entrance of his home, his blood boiling as he stormed towards the loungeroom, seating himself on the couch as his head fell into the palms of his hands. 

Anakin wasn’t far behind, him resting on the arm of the opposite couch from the one Obi Wan was seated on, the amusement evident in his voice as he broke the silence. 

“Well... that was interesting” 

“Not now Anakin!” 

“Hey, I haven’t done anything wrong, Master. If anything, you should be thanking me. It really was quite the disturbance you both were causing out the-” 

“I said not now! I’ve had enough of this for tonight” 

“She really knows how to get under your skin, doesn’t she? I’m starting to think she’s worse than me” 

“Anakin” Obi Wan warned, his head lifting from his hands to stare at the boy before him. 

“You’re always together. Always arguing. And you both get so riled up with one another. It’s as if you’re... like you’re couple that’s been in a marriage for all your life” 

“I’m being quite serious Anakin, if you don-” 

“It seems as if you're so disapproving you are of her. Which is strange because she’s good at what she does. She’s a great Jedi. Maybe you’re just jealous of her-” 

“Anakin, that’s en-” 

“Or maybe you’re in love with her, that could be it too” Anakin joked, a snort of laughter escaping his lungs. 

Without saying another word, Obi Wan rose from his seat, brushing past the boy who had broken out in a fit of laughter, breathy apologies falling from his lips as he watched his Master disappear into his bedroom, where he wouldn’t appear from until the next morning. 

Yet that night, Obi Wan barely got a wink of sleep, his heart hammering endlessly in his chest as Anakin's words combined with ghostly images of you swirled around his thoughts, the realisation of the truth within Anakin's lighthearted words haunting him till the sun rose the next day.  

All this time Obi Wan was wrong. His deep-rooted obsession with you, his need to watch you whenever you’re within his vision, his desire to hear the rise of your voice when he pushes your buttons - he buttons only he knew how to push – wasn’t from a place of hatred. No, it was from a place of love. All this time he’d loved someone he swore to be his own personal enemy. 

Yet, he refused to cave into his emotions. Keeping the guarded front of hatred up whenever you were near.  

He repeatedly told himself it was because loving someone was against the Jedi code. That if he followed the true desires of his heart, everything he worked so hard for would be torn from him instantly. He’d have no purpose, no guidance, no home. And for that, resenting you somehow became easier, because he wouldn’t allow you to take that all away from him. But deep down, in a place he struggled to keep hidden, he was terrified of your true emotions, that if you were to reveal his true desire for you, you’d reject him, using his one weakness – his emotions for you - against him.  

And for that, he kept up the false front, his behavior towards you unwavering, because hating you was far easier than loving you.  

However, sometimes he didn’t have to continuously remind himself of that fact, Anakin's suggestion of you getting under his skin an obvious truth as he lost sight of you, his vision darting in each direction as he spun himself in a full 360 in the middle of the busy pathway. 

Obi Wan and yourself were currently paired together on an assignment, one that could've been easily palmed off to Kenobi and his Padawan if it wasn’t for the younger boy being in recovery after having himself injured on their last mission. 

The goal for the assignment was simple. There had been rumors floating around the temple of an underground club storing illegal weapons, which itself wouldn’t be an issue because as far as you were aware, half the clubs on Coruscant held their own illegal weapons, but once word spread that a group of bounty hunters were seeking to purchase the weapons, the Council decided to step in, hence yourself and Obi Wan being sent on the mission.  

And it seemed simple. Disguise yourself as anything other than a pair of Jedi, go into the club, seek out the location of the stored weaponry, alert the Counsil of its whereabouts, and leave. Easy. The entire assignment could be finished in under an hour. Yet the moment you dressed yourself in the disguised outfit, you slipping into the thin fabric of the floor length black dress, you decided you wanted to make the most of the night out, allowing yourself to have a bit more fun than the Council would’ve intended you on having. 

Obi Wan spun himself to the brink of dizziness when he finally paused, his eyes landing on your open back dress facing away from him as you stood at the entrance of a stall, you passing the man a handful of credits in exchange for the wide scarf. 

Groaning in annoyance, Obi Wan weaved his way through the crowded night market, him overhearing your thanks to the shop keep as he finally reached you, you turning to face him right as he approached you. 

“A scarf?” he questioned, his eyes lingering on your face as he took in your amused expression. 

“I needed it” you replied, pushing past his tense frame as you began walking into the crowd once more. He watched as you slid the fabric across your arms, the width of it draping down your spine covering majority of your back, leaving a small slither of your skin exposed at the base of your dress, his eyes locked onto your flesh as you wandered off before it clicked that you were wandering off, him quickly jogging to catch up with you. 

“You know” he huffed, “we do have an assignment to complete” 

“And tell me, do we have a specific time frame required to complete this mission?” 

“...No, however it wou-” 

“No time frame means no need to rush” you said with raised eyebrows as you turned to look at Obi Wan, his eyes squinting as he faced forwards. 

“I think it would be rather beneficial to get this over and done with” 

“Why? Have you got somewhere better to be, Kenobi?” 

“Well, no. But I'd pref-” 

“Then we can take as long as we need. Besides, how often is it that we get to leisure like this out of the Temple? Well, I can only speak on my own behalf. I don’t care for whatever slacking off you do in your free time” 

“I do not ‘slack off’. Unlike some people, I take my role seriously” 

“If I didn’t take my role seriously, they wouldn’t have chosen me to be on this assignment, would’ve they?” 

“Only because Anakin's not here” Obi Wan mumbled under his breath just loud enough for you to hear, causing an angry warmth beneath your skin to flare up, your face snapping to meet the man beside yours once more. 

“And why isn’t your Padawan here? Maybe if his Master knew know how to provide adequate guidance, he wouldn’t have to resort to the medical bay once a week!” 

Obi Wan ignored your verbal jab, his eyes glancing at the rows of stalls as you both continued through the market, triumph slowly building inside you at his lack of a comeback until he redirected his walk to cut directly in front of you, his words a whisper as he passed your frame. 

“Say’s the Jedi without their own Padawan” 

“Hey!” you called, his feet quickening due to the clearing of the crowds as he headed towards the markets exit. Fastening your own pace, you caught up with him, prepared to argue back to his statement before he hushed you, his movements coming to a halt. 

“That's our destination. Master Yoda believes the weapons are stored on-” 

“The first or second floor beneath the club. I know. Might I remind you, I'm also on the Council” you stated, your shoulder bumping his as you passed him and began to draw closer to the entrance of the building when you felt a firm grasp around your wrist, stopping you from any further movements. 

“Don’t you... Wouldn’t it be best to think of a plan before walking in there?” 

“We already have a plan” You sighed in annoyance, you now facing him while his fingers remained wrapped around your skin. 

“But what if were questioned?” 

“We won’t be” 

“We need to be on the same page if they questio-” 

“We won’t be” 

“If we get caught, and you begin some-” 

“Kenobi! I’m telling you we will not be caught! Can you just trust me for once?!” 

His eyes widened in shock, his raised eyebrows furrowing after a moment's silence, a burst of air leaving his nostrils as he did a firm nod, his hand falling from yours as he crossed his arms across his chest. 

 “Fine... But if a single thing goes south-” he started, you huffing as you turned your back to him and marched towards the entrance of the club, Obi Wan following you behind as you neared the tinted glass doors reflecting the neon flashing signs of the streets above. 

Approaching the entrance, the two doors slide open, revealing the dim lights and bassy instrumental echoing within the club. You scanned the room as you entered it, your nose scrunching at the faded colored curtains draping across each wall and the clouds of thin smoke wafting across the roof, your eyes falling on the grim looking creature perched behind the reception desk.  

You slowed your pace until Obi Wan was standing beside you when you suddenly slid your arm beneath his, your arms interlocked drawing you closer to one another as you inched towards the reception desk. You could feel his confused gaze burning into the side of your face, but you ignored it, your face remaining emotionless as you approached the creature at the desk. 

“Reservation for 4-16" you spoke clearly, Obi Wans eyes now bouncing between yours and the creatures. 

“Name?” the being mumbled, his hands gliding across the vibrant hologram raised on the surface of the desk. 

“Waters” you replied, your voice stern as you watched his fingers dance across the glitchy lights, him tapping a few times before humming in approval, his bulging eyes returning to yours as he spoke. 

“You’re cleared. Pleasure to have you back, Miss Waters” 

Without looking back, you directed Obi Wan into the club, the two of you heading towards the row of ceiling high booth without saying a word. Unlinking your arm from his, you shimmied yourself into the booth, Obi Wan following behind you, seating himself a foot away from you. 

“Care to explain?” 

“I told you to trust me” you said unphased as you flattered out the fabric across your stomach. 

“Who is Miss Waters?” he pushed, him continuing to glare at you, you picking up on the sense that he wouldn't drop this topic without answers. 

“A fake name, clearly” you answered shortly, your eyes looking anywhere besides the man next to you who was growing more agitated by the minute, you jumping in your seat at the sudden sensation of his hand on your knee. 

“This is a shared mission! I’m required to know what you’re doing, so if need be, I can be in on whatever this is as well” 

Your head snapped to face him, your voice low yet firm as you quickly replied. 

“For the last time, I told you to trust me! And if you don’t, there’s no use for you being here. You know where the door is, or do you need help finding it?” 

Before he had the chance to reply, both of your heads turned to face the slim figure that was approaching your booth with a friendly smile, you forcing your cheeks to rise as you mirrored their joyous emotion. 

“Miss Waters, it’s been quite some time! How has life been treating you?” 

“Same old, you know how it is. And you?” 

“Busy. But it’s good to see a familiar face” he said, bending slightly to place a tray of assorted fruits and four glasses of a smokey green liquid on the table. 

“Oh... Grolo, this really isn’t necessary for tonight” 

“Nonsense, it’s on the house” Grolo replied before stepping backwards, his hands crossing as he nodded while speaking, “Room 24 is prepared to your liking for when you’re ready. You two enjoy your evening” 

You waited until Grolo disappeared from your eyesight before you raised your palms to your face, your heart beginning to beat slightly quicker from the conversation, you truly wanting to remain unexposed from the man beside you. 

“So... Familiar face, huh?” 

“Kenobi” you warned, you shielding your eyes from the world around you with your palms, Obi Wans own palm still resting on your knee. 

“And what’s this ‘room 24’?” 

“None of your business, that’s what it is” 

“But it will be... once the Council is notified about the cheat that is lying under their noses” 

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, a sudden anger sparking inside you as you dropped your hands, your body shifting to face the man beside you. 

“If you even think about speaking a word of this to them, I'll shatter each glass on this table and force it down your throat!” 

Leaning back against the fabric of the booth, he brought one hand to his beard, scaping it slowly as he watched you, while the other slid an inch up your skin, unwavering from its position as he pushed, “Then confess whatever it is that you’re hiding about this place, what you’re hiding about yourself” 

You wanted to call him out on his bluff, wanted to believe that he wouldn’t speak a word of what he’s already witnessed to the Council – wanted to trust him – yet you knew you couldn’t, you fully aware of his devotion to his job. So you leaned forward, grabbing two of the four drinks in front of you and bringing them to your lips, you shotting one after another like the liquid had no burning aftertaste, you in desperate need of any confidence boost for what you’re about to tell the man you resented the most. 

“Fuck. Fine. This...” you started, pausing momentarily with hesitation, Obi Wans eyes lingering on your face as you sighed, “This all began quite some time ago now.”, 

“Master Yoda caught word of a potential bounty passing though this area of Coruscant every few nights. He knew it was too risky himself to check the area out, so he sent me”, 

“His intentions were to get any information on the man. If the potential bounty belonged to a gang, if he had a following, who he was involved with. I came here, unsure if the bounty would even step foot in this place, with no indication on how to secure the information Yoda wanted” 

“And the mission was successful?” Kenobi asked, his hand still raking through the hairs on his chin. 

You nodded, swallowing the nerves building inside your tightening throat from what you were confessing for the first time. 

“Call it intuition, or even the Force, but he ended up coming here. I sparked a conversation, and he fell right into my trap. I knew it was too risky to use any of my... Force abilities. So I tried something else, and it worked after some time. He told me what I needed to know, and I reported it all-” 

“What was it?” 

“What was what?” 

“Your method. Possibly spiking of his drink? I wouldn’t put that past you-” 

“Seduction, actually” you spat, your features lifting with your matter-of-fact tone while his jumped in shock, a small cough escaping his mouth as he suddenly leaned forward, the hand that was resting on your leg now shooting across the table to grab ahold of one of the remaining drinks. 

“Seeing how successful it was” you continued, a half smiling tugging at your lips from the surprise your statement caused, “I decided to come back and try it again on a different occasion. And that’s how it started. The more I came here, the more potential threats would walk through those doors – Grolo’s bar being sort of a... hot spot, I guess, for people who want to remain unseen. I’d buy each one a drink here and there, enough for them to lose track of what they’re saying, sweet talk them the way a man like them would want to be spoken to, and suddenly the information I'd want would pour out of them. Easily” 

“But why do it if it wasn’t necessary?” 

“Because it kept me one step ahead. I attained information no other Council member had. Their confessions helped me out on multiple missions. I know who's connected to who, and who to avoid, where these people stay, what threats they pose. Besides, you and I both know how slowly the Council can move at times. I’ve just pushed myself to have a head start” 

“So you’d... seduce these... men into giving you information, out of your own will?” 

“Yes, Kenobi. I did” you said, your eyes switching from his face to the single drink remaining, you leaning forwards to grab it, your pulse jumping as you pretending to ignore the way Obi Wans eyes watched your moving frame, “But nothing I've done is against the Jedi code, nor is it a crime” 

“Not yet. You’re yet to inform me about this ‘room 24’” 

You remained silent as you rested back into the seat, you bringing the drink to your lips as your eyes lingered on Obi Wans, your stomach beginning to churn at the thought of you sharing your deepest secret to the man you’d wish to keep your secret from most. 

“Or you can tell the rest of the Council themselves, I'm sure they’d love to know” he said, his tone flat as he slowly began shuffling himself out of the booth, you immediately snapping your hand to wrap around his forearm stopping him in his tracks. 

“Don’t! Just... Believe me, Obi Wan, it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be” 

“And why should I have faith in your words? You can’t even tell me what is that you’re hiding, how can I trust that!” 

“Okay... Just sit, please” 

With a small huff, he returned to his previous position, spinning himself around to face the bar behind him, arm waving towards the empty tray on the table before adjusting himself to face you once more, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he did so. 

“If you’re going to make me stay, I might as well make it worth my while” he said coolly as one of the bartenders approached the booth with a full tray of drinks, swiftly placing it on the table, replacing the now empty one. He reached forward, his body barely lifting from the back of the seat as he grabbed the glass, his eyes looking deeply into yours as he took a sip causing the pits of your stomach to ignite with warmth. “Now finish the story, or I'm leaving. Don’t make me regret this decision” he said, following with your name at the end of the sentence. 

You wanted to push him, tease him about how precious the Council was to him, but you bit your tongue as you drowned the rest of your drink fully knowing there was no way out of the hole you unwillingly dug yourself in.  

Here goes nothing. 

“I was here every few weeks, doing the same routine. But... one night, things sort of changed. This scoundrel from Coruscant's south, no matter how hard I pushed, he gave no information on what I wanted to know. At first, I was in control, but the more we consumed, the more I... drifted from my purpose. Things started to take a turn, and... well, one thing led to another, and we... you know. I didn’t end up getting the information I wanted out of him, so when I came back, I tried again with someone who had connections to the scoundrel, but I was met with the same fate. After that, my purpose for coming to this side of town had a... different meaning” 

As the words left your lips, Obi Wans entire demeaner shifted, his relaxed composure becoming stiff, his jaw locked with tension as his eyes glared at you, a pit of rage boiling within him at your confession. Yet he kept himself together, trying to attain his burning jealousy as you continued your story. 

“Grolo, whenever I'd return, he’d allow me to stay in a room here with these... people. Room 24. He had trust in me, because I'd brought in good revenue for him with all my previous assignments, and he refused each man from leaving the next morning without covering the bill for the night's stay. We build sort of an understanding, a bond – myself and Grolo. I supplied him with customers, he supplied me with a free room” 

Concluding your confession, you released the deep breath you didn’t know you were holding back, you shotting the remainder of your drink before speaking once more, “That's all it is, Obi Wan. I’m not a criminal, or a cheat to the Council, so you can drop the need you so desperately have to inform the Council of any of this” 

You both sat in a momentary silence, your heart hammering in your chest as you waited for any sort of response from Kenobi, his silence out of character. Yet your pulse was met with a match, Obi Wan feeling as though his own heart was bound to leap out of his chest any moment due to the spiraling anger within him. Images began to play in his mind of the story you shared, flashes of your naked frame entangled with another - someone who wasn’t him - blinding his vision entirely, him taking no note of the rattling glass in his hand until the soft call of his named tore him from his thoughts. 

“... Obi Wan?” you mumbled, your hand reaching out towards him, your fingers barely grazing his skin before he pulled back, his voice a sharp slice as he spat his words. 

“You’re unbelievable!” 

“I’m sorry?” you questioned, your already hammering heart going into overdrive from his outburst. 

“Are you in some state of delusion? You’d be foolish to believe any of this is okay” 

"What are you... I told you I've done noth-” 

“There's something in this lifestyle you’re hiding amongst that you truly desire. These relations, you want them more than you’re allowing yourself to believe. You’ve gone against me-… Against the Jedi Code. I thought you were smarter than this, but clearly, I was wrong about you” 

Absorbing his belittlement, your shock was quickly switched to anger, you hurt that he was speaking to you this way after you opened to him for the first time about something nobody else knew, something that you would’ve never had spoken on if it wasn’t for his threats in the first place. 

“Don’t try and act as though you’re innocent, Obi Wan, like you’ve never had some fun before. We all remember whatever it was that happened between yourself and Dutchess Satine!” The Dutchess’s name on your tongue left a sour after taste, a quick flash of memories passing through your mind as you spoke, images of Obi Wan watching the woman fondly, her arm entwined with his and they walked together, the memory so bitter in your mind that it only added fuel to your already wild flame. 

“What you’re doing is incomparable to that. It was a moment of clouded judgement, of weakness. It was a half-whited act, but nowhere near as close to what you’ve been doing” 

“My business is different!” The alcohol you’d consumed began to take full effect, you unaware of just how loud you were both shouting at one another until you noticed the turning of heads surrounding the booth, various eyes falling on yourself and Obi Wan. 

“And how is that?!” 

“You formed an attachment, I didn’t! You got entangled with emotions, I'm only after momentary fulfillment!” 

“You are surely blinded! This is outrag-” 

You weren’t sure what pushed you over the edge – possibly the heat flushed against your cheeks or the tears beginning to well behind your eyes - but you finally got fed up with the ongoing argument, you swiftly rising from the seat, your body swaying slightly as you shuffled yourself towards the exit of the booth.  

Before you had the chance to walk off, you felt a forceful grip suddenly wrap around your wrist, his soft plea for you to stop barely audible as you cut him off immediately, snatching your arm from his as you spat back, “Don’t!” 

Shocked expressions were blurred around you as you stormed off, the effort of not allowing your hot tears to spill over blocking out the calling pleas of your name from behind you. You repeatedly attempted deep breaths as you pushed your way around passing creatures, your shaky hands a direct result of the alcohol and adrenaline cocktail flowing through your bloodstream. 

Muscle memory navigated you through the various hallways leading you towards the back rooms, your fingers dancing along the keypad of the door you knew too well, a small flash of green blinking before the door unlocked, you pushing the steel frame open. Immediately you were welcomed with dim lighting, the smell of vanilla wafting through your nose as you waved your hands towards your face, your palms cuffing your eyes as you exhaled sharply. 

For a few quiet moments, you stayed in that position, the fire inside you putting up a continuous fight towards your attempt of calming yourself, you completely unaware of the presence that had joined you in the room until you heard the thunder of the steel door forcefully closing behind you causing you to rapidly twirl in shock, your hands ripping from your eyes as they connected with the blue eyes glairing back at you. 

You watched each other in silence, the anger within you sparking up at the sight of him, your previous attempts at becoming calmer thrown out the window within seconds. As his eyes scanned your frame, his somewhat stiff stance loosened, his eyes softening as he absorbed your upset state. His mouth opened to speak, but before he had the chance to mutter a single syllable, your words silenced his, the sentences freely falling from your lips. 

“When all this began, for the first time in my life, I felt as if I was lifted from any burden. Weightless from all responsibilities. No rules, no restrictions, no Council or Jedis. Do you know how freeing that felt? To be nothing but a girl having some fun with a stranger at a bar? It was like being able to breathe again for the first time!” 

He listened to each word you spoke, his mouth remaining shut as he stepped towards you, you moving yourself in the opposite direction as he did so. 

“It was harmless fun Kenobi! Believe it or not, I really don’t care, but that’s all it was! And if you’re so opposed by it, go ahead and tell the Council!!” 

“No” he mumbled flatly, his eyes never leaving yours as his head shook, his body moving another step closer to yours. 

“Why not?!” you shouted, the back of your knees finally hitting the edge of the bed as you backed away from his approaching body, “Maybe they’ll believe you, banish me from the temple. You’ll be able to reign free, the great General Kenobi at the peak of his game!” 

“No” he repeated, this time louder as he began to close in on you, a warm puddle forming in the pit of your stomach as you noticed a glimmer of crazy in his eyes that you’d never seen before. 

“Thats what you’ve strived for all these years, isn’t it? The moment I stepped foot in that temple you wanted me out of there! Nows your chance! I know this is what you want to do, so just do it!” 

Within the blink of an eye, his arms extended in front of him, his warm palms landing on your waist as he pulled you towards him, your chest slamming into his, your breath knocked from your lungs at the contact. His head tilted down to meet yours, one arm removing itself from your waist only to place itself on your chin, his fingers pinching your skin as he directed your head to face his. 

“You have no idea what I want!” 

The small blow of his breath drifted across your open lips, the sensation sending a wave of tingles down your spine, a pool of warmth forming between your weekend legs as his angered eyes peered into your own. 

“You think having you removed from the council is what I desire? To not have you within reach, have you out of my eyesight for even a single second? I would rather take a blade to the skull than to have you out of my life, leaving me miserable while you’re out there being fulfilled by some low life stranger who doesn’t even know your real name” 

As the last sentence left his lips, he pulled your body as close as possible, your heart fluttering as you breathily gasped, his following words causing you to almost fall to your knees as he whispered them onto your flushed skin, “They could never do what needs to be done with you. You don’t even know what real fulfillment is” 

Lifting your head, his fingers still attached to your skin, you inched your face towards him, you pausing at the soft touch of his lips brushing yours, your words vibrating the curve of his bottom lip as you whispered, “...Then why don’t you show me?” 

The breath was knocked from your lungs once more as your frame was suddenly pushed backwards, you collapsing onto the mattress with force, Obi Wans body close behind you as he softly landed on top of you. Leaving no time to waste, he spread his knees to rest on the outsides of your thighs, his hands grabbing at your waist once more as he shuffled you towards the top of the mattress, your body effortlessly tossed towards the soft pillows.  

Barely able to settle from his rapid moving of your body, he crawled his way back on top of you, his lips immediately connecting with the base of your jaw causing an audible sigh to clear from your lungs. 

“You have no idea...” he started, each word interrupted by a sloppy kiss as he worked his way down your neck, “how deeply I've wanted... how deeply I've... needed you” 

His confession made your mind swirl, your hands instinctively gripping at his clothing, trembling fingers unbuttoning and tugging the fabric away from his torso as he roughly worked his mouth across your skin. With each suck and nip, your breaths drew deeper which only seemed to encourage him more. 

“For countless years... my every waking moment” he breathed, his hips connecting to meet with yours, you noticing the stiffness between his legs for the first time causing you to groan, “... has been consumed with thoughts of you” 

His upper body now rid of clothes, you suddenly felt extremely warm in your own clothing, your head tossing to the side as you struggled to free your arms from the twisted scarf clinging to them. Noticing your movements, Obi Wan withdrew himself from your neck, his movements twice as fast as he assisted in removing your scarf, him balling the item up and tossing it behind him, you taking the small moment to focus on his lips, the skin dark and plump, the wetness glazed across the his lips giving you the urge to connect your own with his. 

Returning to face you, his eyes caught sight of your gaze, his heart skipping a beat when you made contact with him. Your flushed cheeks and darked pupils almost sent him into a complete frenzy, but the small pull of your soft smile drew him back into reality, him needing to clear any doubts before continuing, his one arm keeping him hovered above you while the other stroked a strand of hair from your cheek. 

“If... if this isn’t what you want, we can st-” 

Unable to wait a moment longer, you snaked your arms around his neck, drawing him into you as you pushed your lips onto his. The moment you made contact, pure euphoria spread itself through each nerve in Obi Wans body, him kissing you back twice as hard as his heart leaped in his chest. Finally, he thought. 

You pulled back slightly, your attempt to speak cut short as Obi Wan eagerly chased your lips, him deepening the kiss the moment his skin met yours, not wanting to spend another second away from your lips.  

You allowed him to take you in, his lips dancing along with yours as his hips began to slowly grind onto you, your soft sigh tumbling into his mouth causing him to kiss you deeper. 

“Obi” you mumbled, him humming in reply, completely engulfed by bliss, his lips never leaving yours.  

“Obi Wan” you repeated, this time louder as you pulled away from him with a small laugh. 

As much as you were enjoying the sensation of his lips on yours, the ever-growing pulse between your legs was growing stronger with every passing moment, and you were on the edge of becoming desperate.  

“What is it?” Kenobi questioned, his eyes clouding with doubt as he scanned your face, your delicate hand now combing back his long hair welcoming him with immediate reassurance. 

“I need you...” Your simple worlds caused the man to completely crumble, the sentence one he’d dreamt of for countless years, certain he’d never have the pleasure of being on the receiving end when you said it. Yet there he was, laying on top of the woman he loved, the worlds a looping constant in his mind as he watched you. “... Please” 

As if sprung back to life from the dead, he didn’t want to wait a single moment longer, his hands frantic as they reached around to the back of your neck, unfastening your dress and peeling the fabric from your upper body and down to your hips, you shuffling on the mattress, assisting him in any way you could. Pulling the material down your legs, he used one hand to toss it behind him, the other tugging the shoes from your feet before he did the same to himself, ridding him of his pants and footwear before returning his attention to you. 

Stoll hovering above you, he spends a small moment ogling at your naked torso, the way your sprawled hair and tinted cheeks complemented your exposed skin. He was certain he was in the presence of an angel, wishing he could freeze the sight of you before him and stare at it for eternity, yet the harness between his legs prevented him from doing otherwise, him lowering himself to your chest. 

His hands roamed freely across your skin, the sensation of his drifting fingers leaving your hairs standing on edge as his mouth now worked itself across your shoulder blades, each hot kiss leaving a trail of wetness behind. 

Even though you had no intention of staying quiet, small sighs and groans fell freely into the air, each one growing louder as Obi Wan worked his way down your body, him coming to a standstill as his mouth reached your breast. 

His mouth occupied with one, his hand now toying with the other, your breathing grew heavier in pleasure, only spiraling the frenzy that burned inside Obi Wan.  

“Oh my... oh my god” you breathed, your hands shifting between the back of his shoulder blades and the strands of his hair. 

“You’re so beautiful” he mumbled dreamily, his mouth and hands switching positions as he worked himself across to your right breast, his hand now kneading your left. 

Although you were coursing with pleasure, you still needed more, you growing impatient with his slow teasing.  

“Obi Wan, I...” 

“Yes, my darling?” 

“I need more” 

“More?” he teased, his head lifting from your chest and snaking its way to your neck, him now trailing a row of small pecks to your ear, pausing to whisper, “Tell me what you want” 

“Your hands. Please, Obi” 

An exhale of laughter blew into your ear, Obi Wans mouth finding your own as his hand snaked its way down your body, his hand slightly trembling as it reached the lining of your underwear. He toyed with the edge of the fabric, your lips mashing with his as your hips lifted in reflex to the touch, pushing him to continue. 

As his fingers dug beneath the fabric, you released a rumbly moan into his mouth, the sound causing him to eagerly press further, the pads of his fingers collecting wetness as he explored. Your sounds of pleasure grew more rapidly as his fingers moved, him finding your bundle of nerves with ease causing you to cry out and press up onto his hand, a smirk forming on his face as you did so. 

Both your palms now held his cheeks, keeping his lips pressed against yours as his hand worked on your below, a rhythm forming in his movements causing a buildup to form within you, a pressure initiating in your core.  

Keeping his thumb on your bud, his index and middle finger explored lower, pausing at your opening.  

“Is this what you desire?” he asked between kisses, his voice low and rough. You nodded in agreement, your eyes shut in bliss as his thumb continued its movements. 

“You words. I need your words” 

“Yes!” you cried desperately into his mouth, a sigh leaving both of your lips as his fingers entered you.  

His movements started slow, him taking in each new feeling as his fingers slowly worked in and out, but it wasn’t until he felt the connection of your hip meeting his hands that he allowed himself to speed up, your continuous moans on his lips reassurance that you were enjoying yourself. It wasn’t long before the tension within you began rapidly building to new heights, the two of you breathing deeply into one another. 

“Obi...” you moaned, your mouth detaching from him, bottom lip falling slack as your skin began to tingle with pleasure, “I’m... I'm close” 

His movements stayed steady, your hands beginning to shake as you drew closer to your release until everything suddenly stopped, his fingers inside you now a ghostly presence as he removed his hands from beneath your underwear, bringing them to his own, him pulling the fabric down as you gaped at him in disbelief of what he’d just done. 

“Why did you st-”  

Your questioning was interrupted with a firm, sloppy kiss, you jumping at the return of his hands as they fell on the side of your leg, grabbing the fabric of the only remaining piece of clothing on your body before tugging them down your thighs. 

“I need to feel you, now” he said as he leant back on his knees, readjusting to both of you around so that his legs were between yours, your legs bent and thighs spread as he lowered himself, his body straight as he hovered above you once more. His free hand grabbed his shaft, lining it up with your core, his eyes peering up at you as he did so. 

“Are you s-” 

“Obi” you groaned in annoyance, your body still tingling from his edging just before. 

“I need you to be sure” he said back with a competitive tone, yet the small smile on his face revealed anything but anger. 

“I want you Obi Wan. Right now. Please” 

With your green light, he thrusted his hip towards you, your entrance welcoming his tip as he lowered himself into you, the sounds leaving both of your mouths a cocktail of pure pleasure. He moved slowly, wanting to prevent causing you any discomfort but also needing to savor the feeling. This really is heaven, he thought. 

Dragging himself in and out, he refused to pick up his pace until you granted him to do so, a wave of excitement spreading through him as your hips began to meet his. He entered you with more force, hip colliding with yours as he rocked into you, causing you to cry out in satisfaction. 

“Faster” you mumbled, your head falling sideways as he began to move more vigorously. 

“What was that?” he teased, pretending to not hear your words. 

“Please, faster, Obi Wan!” you cried. 

His speed doubled as he worked into you, both of your bodies rocking in sync as he lowered his mouth to your neck, his lingering pecks growing sloppier as he the time passed, vocal groans and heavy puffs rumbling against your now tender skin. 

The familiar building began to form within the pits of your stomach once more, your hands reaching out to claw at the exposed skin of Kenobi's back as you breathlessly moaned, “Fuck... You’re so good” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mmmh hmmm” you nodded, his lips snaking their way down to your chest once more before returning to your face, his forehead resting on yours as his wild eyes peered down into yours. 

“No other scum can please you the way I can” he groaned somewhat angrily, his lips pressing onto yours forcefully as his thrusting hardened causing a cry to crawl itself out from your throat, “Only I can... God, only I can have you like this. Tell me only I make you feel this good” 

“Obi Wan!” you called, your chest rising and falling rapidly as the ache in your core drew closer to release. 

“I said tell me!” he paused, his hand snaking its way down to your thigh, gripping the skin and hiking your leg up beside him causing his thrusts to fall deeper inside you. 

“It’s only you, Obi- Oh my... Only you make me feel this good!” 

“That’s right...” he cooed, placing a kiss to your swollen lips as his forehead returned to yours, his eyes lapping up the visual pleasure displaced across your face.  

Your cries both messy and loud, your hands began to shake once more as you were now on the edge of your release, Obi Wans own pent up tension a reflection of yours as he bucked into you. 

“I’m... I’m...” you stuttered, your hands frantic on his skin as his breath fanned your face, you unable to finish your sentence as his mouth returned to yours for a final time, his free hand gripping your skin tightly as you reached your peaks, you crying out inaudible appraisals as you came undone, your nails digging into Obi Wans flushed skin as he rocked into you, his release directly chasing yours, his loud moans echoing in your ears.  

You rode the wave of your highs together, his hips continuing to rock into yours as he emptied himself inside of you, his mind a haze of complete bliss as you held him, your rocky breaths across his skin sending shivers down his spine. 

You stayed like that for what you wished could be an eternity, basking in the euphoria that coursed through your veins as you both relaxed into one another, you gasping as Obi Wan removed himself from your warm walls before plummeting onto your frame, your skin to skin contact an immediate warming comfort.  

Catching your breaths, your hand raked the skin on his back, your palms soothing the red scratches you created just moments before as he delicately placed fluttery kisses on your already bruising collarbones. Neither of you had spoken a word, you both basking in the moment, absorbing the affections you were gifting to one another before Obi Wans head rose from your chest, his eyes slightly glassy as he drew in your attention. 

“As cathartic as that was... we do have an assignment to complete” he joked, the hair on his chin tickling the skin on your chest as it bounced with laughter, you tossing your head back with a groan before peeking down at him once more, his wide smile a reflection of your own. 

“I hate you, Kenobi” you teased, your hands snaking their way up through his hair, your fingers pausing to give a section of strands a slight tug as you spoke causing his smile to widen. 

“My darling, I hate you more than you’ll ever know” 

[madeinnaboo]

theirs | anakin skywalker, obi wan kenobi

requests are open!:)

words: 1.7k

warnings: soft dom! Obi Wan, hard dom! Anakin, unprotected sex, p in v, creamp!e, punishment, names, corruption kink, use of the force, heavy(?)

,,I hope I don't get you into too much trouble`` Your friend says as she opens the door into her room. You smile at her and fix your ponytail.

,,Of course not; I'll see you tomorrow?`` You were actually in so much trouble, and just thinking about your Masters made you anxious.

,,Yes ma`am`` Your friend saluted you, and you laughed at her before giving her a goodbye hug. After the door closed behind her, you took a deep breath and started walking towards the left wing, where your room was.

You lied about where you were going. Your friend really wanted to visit a planet that held some sort of race. That obviously meant you had to fly there, and that was strictly prohibited for you. Her master allowed her to travel wherever she wanted, and you were super jealous of her freedom. So naturally, you lied and said the two of you would just hang out around the temple. Your lie would work out if only you weren't almost 6 hours late. Something happened to your ship, and it took ages for your friend to fix it up. She didn't know about all the strict rules you had to follow, so she wasn't worried about being late.

After some time, you finally arrived to your room, and before you even got the chance to open the door, it flew open, revealing a tall figure. You looked up at him with fear in your eyes. Anakin's eyes were glowing with anger, and you had to manually breathe because it felt like you forgot how to. His hand wrapped around your arm and forced you into the room before closing the door behind you. Obi Wan was sitting on your bed with his head in his hands. When he heard the door close, he looked up and then quickly walked towards you. His hands grabbed your face, and you closed your eyes.

,,Are you okay, my love? Where were you? We were so worried`` He said, and you felt a stinging pain inside your stomach. You felt so bad; you genuinely wished something bad had happened to you.

,,I'm okay, we- we just forgot about the time. I'm so sorry`` You said when you opened your eyes and looked at the man in front of you. A scoff from the other man forced your attention to him.

,,That's interesting, because what I heard was that you and your friend made a little trip`` Anakin spoke with a mean voice, and you felt Obi Wan'shands slowly leave your face.

,,Is that true y/n?`` Obi asked with a surprised voice, and you looked at him with even sadder eyes. You opened your mouth to say something, but when nothing came out, Obi nodded his head in disappointment and took a step back.

,,Remove your clothes and get on your fours`` Anakin said as he started removing his robes.

,,Master-`` You tried to speak but were quickly stopped by an invisible hand squeezing your throat. Obi tilted his head, ready to stop Anakin from using the force if it got too much.

,,Im done with your shit y/n`` Anakin spoke as the force left your neck and walked over to you. His hand untied your robes and helped them fall from your body, leaving you only in your panties. You immediately felt seen and just wanted to hide in one of their arms. You hated when they were upset with you. A tear escaped your eye, and Anakin chuckled before wiping it off with his long finger.

"Don't you even think that crying will get you out of this`` He said before grabbing you by your arm and shoving you onto the bed.

,,Anakin...`` Obi said warningly. They both stared at each other for some time before Anakin shifted his focus back on you. You got on all fours at the end of the bed. Anakin walked to you and gave your exposed ass a harsh slap before grabbing your panties and pulling them off. You placed your upper body on the soft mattress, arching your back like that because you knew he liked it. You felt another much larger hand on your head as its fingers gently stroked your hair. You shifted your head so you could look at the older man. He was still very disappointed with you, but he cared. He then sat down on a small couch that you had near your bed, so he could watch you get fucked.

Anakin's left arm grabbed your hip, guiding you onto his cock. There was no foreplay, but all this made you wet enough to take him. You felt his tip in between your folds before he harshly slammed his hips towards you. His cock almost split you open. You moved your head and hid it in the fluffy blanket. A loud moan escaped your lips as you tried to get away from him, but his strong arms didn't allow you to do so.

,,Anakin, move her head so I can see her face`` Obi Wan spoke with a deeper voice, and soon you felt a sharp pain on your scalp as Anakin forced your head to face Obi Wan again. You opened your eyes to look at him. His legs were parted and he was slowly stroking his cock. You whined at the sight of his red tip. Anakin pulled his cock from you before slamming it back again, making you roll your eyes. Each thrust was followed by pain. He clearly didn't care about how you felt at the moment. His fingers were painfully digging into your skin, making sure to leave deep blue marks. His body was moving at an almost animalistic speed, filling you up with his cock so nicely.

You forced your eyes open so you could look at your other master. Your eyes were filled with tears, and loud moans were escaping your lips. Obi Wan tried his best not to cum just yet.

,,Such a fucking whore`` Anakin said through his teeth, and you bit down on your lower lip.

,,Yes master`` You did your best to say. He let out a loud growl before his thrusts became sloppy. Soon you felt his cock twitch, and after a few more thrusts, you felt him cum deep inside you. His forehead was sweaty, and he had to focus on his breathing. He stayed in you for a moment before quickly leaving your body, making you cry out. His eyes watched as his cum slowly spilled out of your abused pussy. Then he grabbed his robes and exchanged places with Obi Wan.

Obi just lowered his loose pants before tapping on your hip, making you change the position you were in. You laid on your back and opened your legs for him. His hands grabbed your thighs and pushed you closer to him before putting them on his shoulder. When your legs were secured, he grabbed his cock and guided it to your hole, which was already filled with Anakin`s cum.

He pushed his tip inside of you, making you whine in pleasure. His hands went back to your thighs, gently squeezing them before fully pushing himself inside of you. You arched your back and grabbed the blanket. His hips were moving way slower than Anakin's, but he still made sure that you knew this was a punishment.

With every passing second, you felt your brain getting mushier and mushier. Soon you weren't able to keep your eyes open, and your lips were open in a silent moan.

"Don't you even dare to cum`` Anakin's voice cut through the room, and you furrowed your brows in disagreement, which caused Obi Wan to warningly slap your thigh.

You weren't sure how long it took before Obi Wan's moans joined yours and his cum mixed with Anakins.

You barely felt him leave your body or even lower your legs. Anakin got up and headed to the door.

,,Anakin,  she's your responsibility`` Obi Wan said as he tied his pants, making the younger Jedi stop. He looked down at you. It was true. You were Anakin's responsibility since he was your true Master.

,,She knows she doesn't deserve my care`` He said and you pouted your lips. Obi Wan sighed when he left the room.

,, Come here`` He said as he reached out to grab you in his arms before helping you to your bathroom. He sat you down on the cold marble bathtub. You felt like you could pass out at any time, so you rested your back against the cold tiles.

Obi Wan grabbed a cloth and put it under warm water before kneeling down in front of your naked body. He gently parted your legs and started cleaning your inner thighs. When his knuckle touched your swollen clit by accident, your body shot to his face. He looked up at you before placing the cloth next to you. He brought his index finger to your clit and drew small circles on it. You swore you could see stars. You opened your legs for him and prayed to all the gods that he wouldn't stop. And he didn't. Just like that, within a few seconds, he brought you to your orgasm, which hit you hard. Your legs started to shake, and he had to grab your body so you wouldn't fall.

When he was sure you were done, he pushed two of his fingers deep inside of you, making you whine in discomfort. He then brought his two fingers covered in his, Anakins', and your cum to your lips, and you happily licked them clean.

Then he just cleaned the rest of your body and helped you to your bed. You thanked him with a kiss on his lips, and he wrapped his arm around your waist, deepening the kiss.

,,Please don't do this again. I was really worried`` He whispered to your abused lips, and you quickly nodded.

,,I am sorry, Master`` You said as you sat down on your bed, and with a nod, he left your room.

[valeskafics]

Incorrect Modern Star Wars Quotes (#4)  

Y/N: How’re you doing?

Anakin: (very drunk) You are so good looking!

Anakin: (throws his arms around Y/N and growls) I’m gonna make love to you right here, right now!

Obi Wan: (in the seat right next to them) Really wish you wouldn’t.

-

(source: "Friends")

[grippingbeskar]

had you said the words

obi-wan kenobi x fem!reader

word count: 7.5k

warnings: ADULT CONTENT MINORS DNI (oral m and f receiving, general sexual content, obi-wan is a virgin but they don’t actually fuck but yeah) swearing, think that’s it??

a/n: obi wan i love youuUuUuUu. okay in honour of the show coming out i am finally letting go of this lil thing I made. i wrote it months ago but never felt like it was good enough to post but here we are!! im feeling okay about how it turned out so i hope u enjoy and if you didn’t just lie and say you did!!! also this is inspired by that one line from the clone wars u know the one. okay that’s enough goodbye!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“This is ridiculous! You can’t do this!” You shout to the Jedi council. In front of you is some of the galaxy’s most respected members, the most seasoned generals from the clone wars, and yet not a single one seems to be able to see reason.

“We must. For the good of the Jedi.” Mace Windu says from the corner of the room, not meeting your eye. Your face drops, unable to comprehend their callousness.

“How could you? You know me. I would never jeopardise my career. This is what I’ve done my entire life! I-’

“This isn’t permanent, however the council has made a decision. We cannot afford to have a Jedi falter in their cause - not now, in the middle of a war.” Plo Kloon says, empathy guarded behind the crushing words. So that was that. All this over one decision.

You made one mistake.

One.

During the heat of battle, you lost sight of your focus, lost control, all because of one particular member of the council who sits in front of you now, saying nothing. Obi-Wan cant even look at you, and you dont know if its because of disappointment or if he just doesn’t care as much as you thought he would. Maybe he agrees with them. A sense of anger washed over you and you see him fidget in his chair, locking eyes with you for the first time since the council called session.

“He would have died.” Your voice shakes as you tilt your head towards Obi Wan Kenobi, leaving his gaze to find the rest of the council staring at you. “I saw the situation and reacted. I only did what I had to - to save him.”

“Had to, you did?” Master Yoda croaks from next to Mace, and you shudder a breath under his accusation, but nod.

“Yes.” The council all look at you, well, all except Kenobi, who’s knuckles are going white gripping the side of his chair, and nod. You bow your head, knowing you are fighting a losing battle, and spin to leave the room.

“You are one of the best of us, child. We know you meant no harm, but this is the Jedi way.” Kit calls and you dont get a chance to respond as the doors shutter behind you.

You were heartbroken. All day you had been turning over the events of yesterday in your head, trying to see a way out - another way you could have saved his life without compromising your career. There was none.

It started out as any battle did, the longevity of the Clone wars hardening most Jedi to become seasoned generals. Anakin and Ahsoka took troops around the back to catch the droids from behind, while you and Kenobi engaged the main platoon. It was going well - even perfect, you and Kenobi working seamlessly together, able to read each others minds, know the others thoughts without ever having to look at each other. It had been that way since he found you on Corellia, a teenager with a strong connection to the force and an attitude to boot. He trained you - in spite of everyone who told him you were a lost cause, showed you the ways of the Force and watched you grow into one of the best Jedi in the Republic - you were part of the reason he took a chance on Anakin. 

Either way, no matter how well you knew each other, you never could have expected what happened next.

Breaking the droid lines, you breached their hold. This was the main prize, for it contained the systems that held hundreds of documents detailing the battle regiments of the droids entire army, including exact numbers, weaponry and AT-AT deployments. What neither of you knew was that they had one last surprise set up.

As Obi-Wan entered the hold, you could both feel something was off immediately. You told him as much, and said you should wait for Anakin and Ahsoka to arrive so you could go in together and scan for entities. Obi Wan was convinced there was no time, the droids already beginning to regroup outside the hold. He wasn’t wrong, you could feel them caging you in, but he had always taught you to be patient; to clear your mind before rushing into battle. The role reversal threw you off guard as he pushed forward into the hold.

You still felt uneasy, but you didn’t argue and stepped inside with him. It was huge, monotone walls shutting you into a sphere shaped room, two steel doors that shuttering behind you. As Obi-Wan took one more step, you both heard the click at the same time, heads snapping to find each other’s eyes, and you didn’t even think before you reacted. 

Obi-Wan turned and threw himself at you before you even got a glimpse of the explosive. Within seconds you knew he would be blown to pieces, but his body would shield the blast from you and the board of computers behind you, which contained the information the entire mission was hinged on. Time stood still. This is what is was to be a Jedi - to sacrifice yourself for the greater good, the bigger cause, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

Obi-Wan looked down at you, and his eyes were so piercing - so satisfied in his decision to die so that you will live, and you felt him through the Force, a warm longing drifting into your heart. You knew what he was saying; all the words you could never speak out loud, the thoughts you were too afraid to have in fear he would reject them. It was his final goodbye - and you couldn’t take it.

You threw out your hand, finding the explosive through the Force and flinging it behind you, right behind the computers main frame. The blast went off a split second later, shattering the entire set up and motherboard. The information would be gone, a shimmering snow of computer parts and wires falling around you. All you could focus on, though, was how Obi-Wans’ hand had come up to cup the side of your face, and how warm his skin was against your cheek, the failure of the mission worth every second of contact.

“You saved me.” He had said, voice a whisper under the still falling pieces of the destructed technology. You just nodded, and he didn’t move from on top of you, reminding you how it would have been the other way around had you acted half a second later, and he would have been dead. 

His eyes were filled with an emotion you have seen a few times before, but you don’t know what it is. You only know that when he looks at you like that, your heart beat shoots into your throat, and every feeling you tried to lock away when you became a Jedi fights its way back to the surface. 

Once Anakin and Ahsoka arrived, they found you both in amongst the rubble, and it wasn’t until the shock had surpassed that you realised you were both all cut up from the debris. They brought you back to the main base, and you weren’t thinking straight, immediately spilling about how you sustained these injuries. You put Obi-Wans life above the Jedi cause, and even though you knew you would get in trouble for it, you couldn’t hide from the truth.

What you hadn’t expected was Obi-Wans complete silence. He hadn’t spoken to you since you arrived back to base, and you were sure he was just preparing for the council meeting where he would back you, abide by your decision, or at the very least say something. He didn’t. Anakin and Ahsoka tried their best to influence the council, but neither of them held the power to do much. Anakin was still not yet a Master Jedi, and Ahsoka; although she had the attitude of one, was not yet a general.

So now you were marching back to your room, empty halls of the ship seeming colder and colder the further you get from Obi-Wan. You knew what you did betrayed the sacred oath you made the day you put on your Jedi robes. Jedi did not make emotional connections, the order had to be put first, and the good of the galaxy depended on it. You knew you risked countless lives by losing that critical information, and you knew you would be reprimanded.

You didn’t regret it though.

You were always a rule breaker, a little bit of a rebel in regards to the orders strict guidelines on that kind of behaviour - how were you to truly care about the galaxy if you had no one in it to protect? It was human nature to form connections - and practically impossible not to care in the case of Obi-Wan’s life. Did they expect you not to attempt to save him, even when there was a way to do so?

Obi-Wan was one of the many times you broke the rules. You were infatuated with him ever since you met him - he was significantly older than you, yes, although not by so much it would be deemed inappropriate. You were both adults, so it was more your occupations that kept you from admitting your feelings. He found you on Corellia, sacrificed his time and patience to mould you into the perfect fighter, fought for your right to train beside the Jedi even with your training being so late. He stuck up for you your entire life, and it made his silence that much more painful. 

You finally trudged through the ship far enough to find your room, and as you go to enter, you feel two familiar figures come up behind you, and a female voice calls your name.

“We were waiting outside, but they made us leave after they called the session.” Ahsoka says, and she reaches out to hold your arm, careful to miss the bandage holding you together. 

“It’s fine. Nothing happened we didn’t already know would happen.” You knew they would remove your titles - take away your leadership of your battlement. It was a glorified way of grounding you, sending you to your room as if you were a child.

“What of Obi-Wan? There has to be a way to change their mind. He has to be trying.” Anakin says, shaking his head. Him and his master have always gotten along, and their bond is one that rivals brothers, but you know Anakin takes after you in the attitude department, so as he paces up and down the corridor, you know he’s as pissed as you.

“What of him? He couldn’t even look at me. I don’t think he even blinked the entire session.” You scoff, and even Ahsoka shakes her head, more confused than angry.

“He’s going to have to speak up sometime.” Ahsoka says, and releases your arm.

“He will if I have anything to say about it. Padmè will talk to the council about the diplomatic influence, she’s already speaking to the other generals. We will have you back out there in no time.” Anakin’s eyes are fiery, and you smile at the man who was once a boy, small and unsure now so confident and clear.

“If he wanted to, he would of. Thank you, both of you for your help, but I’m just going to have to ride this one out. There’s nothing I can do about it now.” Both of them look at you with the same sympathetic frown, and you would laugh at how similar they are if you weren’t feeling so defeated.

“For what it’s worth, I would have done the same thing.” Anakin says, and he steps forward. You know he’s talking about Padmè, and you nod, a mutual understanding of the conflicting emotions of the Jedi way. They both turn to leave, and you can hear the hushed conversation of their plan as they round the corner.

You enter your room and fall onto the bed, the air rushing out as soon as your head hits the pillow. The past few days have been entirely exhausting, and you weren’t just thinking about the cuts and bruises that now littered your skin. This little incident has forced you to really own up to your feelings towards Obi-Wan. The way you felt when you were faced with the possibility of him dying tore you to shreds, and the strength of those emotions were impossible to draw up to just an admiration of a friend, or a small crush born of gratitude. You were in love with him, and you had been for a while. You knew it was wrong and you wanted to fight it, fight the feeling you drowned in whenever he was in the room, whenever he smiled at you or pulled you away to talk about battle plans, knowing no one else would understand the way he thinks but you.

It also forced you to think about how he may feel about you. He reacted so quickly, throwing himself on top of you when the explosive dropped, and the look in his eye told you he wouldn’t of regretted dying for you. His Force - the energy you knew so well felt different - like he was reaching into your body and touching everything inside you, giving you no option but to yield to him. The intensity of it - it was nothing you had ever felt before.

It made it hard to breathe, thinking about that. Would he have ever felt the same? He was one of the most accomplished Jedi in the galaxy, surely there was no way he would return those feelings, right?

It was impossible - you and him, for so many reasons, the main one being how you were now banned from fighting, banned from council meetings and practically shunned from the Republic just for presenting the idea that he meant more to you than you let on. One mistake, you said to yourself, but you weren’t entirely sure it was a mistake.

Your eyes began to close, and even with everything in your life being pulled apart, you can’t help but drift off. Your energy is drained, and maybe that’s why after you fall into a deep sleep, you don’t feel Obi-Wan’s presence at your door before he knocks, softly, almost as if he doesn’t want you to hear it.

You know its him as soon as you open your eyes, able to recognise his energy anywhere, but when he says your name, you throw the blanket off and move to open the door.

Dull lights from the hallway don’t show you any emotions on his face. It has to be the middle of the night. His hair is out of place and he looks so unlike himself. He is almost always put together, in his robes and armed with his lightsaber, but he stands in front of you in just a few layers and no weapon to be seen.

“Wh- What are you doing?” He shifts his weight onto the other leg and finally looks at you.

“I needed to see you. The council held me all day. May I?” He motions to behind you. Was he asking to come in to your room, at three in the morning? After what has just happened?

“I don’t know if thats a good idea, considering.” Your voice is small. The truth is that you do want him to come in, more than you’ve wanted anything. To have him in close quarters, all to yourself - it’s what you’ve wanted for years, and you hate that you have to sound even slightly hesitant.

“If you don’t want to see me, I understand. I’ll go.” He steps backwards and your hand shoots forward to grab the wrist of his robe before you can think.

“No! I do.” Damn, you folded fast under those puppy dog eyes he was giving you. You step out, looking left and right. The hallway is completely empty, and you dont have long before the skeleton crew of night guards come back through on their rotation. “Come.”

He moves swiftly past you and closes the door behind him, you going to sit on the edge of your bed. You sigh, trying to get a hold of the swirling array of emotion twisting in your stomach. It felt similar to wanting to puke. On one hand you want to scream at him, demand him to answer for the way he acted, or rather didn’t act in the council meeting.

On the other, you want to take advantage of this time. You have already lost the one thing that kept you from admitting your feelings to him, what more could you lose? You don’t get a chance to decide, because he speaks first, standing in front of you.

“I wanted to apologise. The way that I behaved today - it was cowardly. I should have spoken sooner.” You were nodding, but when he says sooner you look up at him and tilt your head. “When the council dismissed you, I felt the true consequence of my actions. I ordered a reconsideration.”

That makes your eyes widen a little. The thought of the Obi-Wan Kenobi arguing with the entire council on your behalf makes the heat in your cheeks heavier, and you look away, hoping he can’t sense it.

“A reconsideration?” You repeat, and he nods.

“Yes. I was afraid I may of found my bearings too late, but I explained how your actions were only fuelled by your respect for me, and that you would have done the same for any council member had they been in my place. I know how much you respect the order and your superiors, and I told them as much. We have a… unique connection, something other people might not completely comprehend. I explained as best I could.” You blink, trying to take in every word, but you are stuck on the first part. Your actions weren’t fuelled by respect. Your heart acted before your mind did, and he had just lied to the council for you, because he knew it too.

“I find it hard to imagine you had anything to say, considering you stayed so silent during the three hours of my own hearing.” Anger bubbles up your chest at his dismissing statement, and he rubs his hands over his face.

“I apologise. I was - not in the right mind to speak. I was afraid I would only make the situation worse.” His voice shakes slightly as he stops talking.

“So, you lied.” 

“I did not lie. You deserve your place, on the battle field and on that council one day. I will not let this incident ruin your career. Not over something like this.” The unsaid words hang in the air, thick as smoke.

Not over me.

“You did lie. You told them I did it out of respect.” You can’t look at him, nerves starting to break up that anger you felt as his voice gets softer. He says your name again, and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for his response.

“I also told them about what I did. You are not the only one who acted on instinct. I was unprepared; arrogant even. I should have listened to you.” You scoff and shake your head. “Tell me how I can make this right.”

“Look, whats done is done. Thank you for speaking in my favour, but the council has made up their minds.” Defeated, and convinced you weren’t going to hear what you so desperately wanted to hear, you move further away from him on the bed and let your back rest against the wall. He was quiet for a moment, letting you sigh and sink into the wall. Maybe he thought you were going to continue - he seemed to be anticipating something. After a while, though, he starts to fidget and shifts his weight to the other side again.

“I know you have more to say to me. Argue with me; yell at me, if you must. Just speak to me.” He finally speaks. You dont remember ever seeing him this unsteady. You sigh again and find his eyes, already looking at you, pleading.

“You threw yourself at me. You would have died today if I hadn’t thrown that explosive. Do you really expect me to believe you also did that out of respect for the Jedi?” His face doesn’t change, he doesn’t even move. “Because I didn’t. I didn’t think about the Jedi, or the information on those computers. I wasn’t even thinking about myself. I thought of you. I wanted to save you.” The confession sheds a weight of your shoulders you didn’t even know you were carrying, and your mouth is suddenly dry as Obi-Wan continues to stare at you. He goes to speak and his voice cracks, so he swallows hard and tries again.

“I wanted to save you too.” You think you stopped breathing. “If you had gone in first, you would have.... It would have been my fault. I couldn’t bare it; to lose you would destroy everything.” Your eyebrows furrow together and you slide off the bed, standing only a few steps from him.

“Destroy your plan to get me on the council?” 

“It would destroy me.” You see it beginning to crack; the fragile glass ceiling that kept your deepest secrets below. You suck in a breath as his voice cracks and he keeps talking somehow. “What you said, about lying to the council. You are right. You know I respect you as a general, and I want all those things I spoke about for you. I want to provide that for you. To think you would lose that because of me - it couldn’t happen.”

It couldn’t happen.

This, the heat swirling in between you in the dimly lit room, it couldn’t happen. It would mean the destruction of both of your lives, and you knew that. You never expected him to say any of this in front of the council, but a small part of you dared to hope he would say it to you. 

“I understand.” Your head drops, and you see his hand rise up, and a finger coming underneath your chin. Your breath hitches as he gently brings your face back up to his, the warmth of his skin a welcomed return. This was it. The crossing of the invisible line. It felt so much easier to do now that you were here. You resist the urge to press into his touch.

“I lied to the council, but I am not sure how much longer I can lie to myself.” His eyes search yours for any sign of confusion, or resentment, or anything other than the heavy longing that has been building over years and years of close proximity. However, its you who hesitates this time, although you dont pull away.

“Obi, this - I won’t let you risk your position for this. Mine is already at threat, we can’t - I know what the order means to you. I couldn’t - ”

“Had you said the words, I would have left the Jedi Order.” Your heart flutters and your stomach drops. Left? “I nearly lost you yesterday and I - I don’t know what to do. How can I continue on this path when I feel this way? The one thing that feels right - how can it be viewed as so wrong?” You step towards him this time, wanting to be closer.

“You mean you-”

“When I threw myself over you yesterday, it was because I couldn’t imagine living in this galaxy if you were not by my side. You are the only thing worth more than this. Any of this. I want - truely, I want to serve the republic - the planets, bring aid and peace where I can and protect those who cannot fend for themselves. It is all I’ve wanted my entire life. I never knew I could- that I would want anything else- until I met you.” You bring your hand to cover his own on your face, and he closes his eyes when your hands thread together.

“You won’t have to leave this behind. I swear. I’ll talk to the council, admit it was my fault. We can figure this out, together.” You can’t compute his confession, not yet, not when he’s going down this road of throwing everything he’s worked for out the vat - for you.

“You will do no such thing.” Your face is screwed up with worry and your anxiety of the danger of confessing your feelings is creeping up, but you feel his energy mixing with your own, and he is so calm and steady it makes your hands stop shaking.

“I care for you, too. A little too much, I think.” He smiles for the first time in days, absorbing the heat of your words and letting them sink into his skin. “We- we just need time. We can figure this out. Let this whole thing settle down first.” You nod at your own plan and hold his hand tighter to your face, not wanting the contact to end.

“Whatever you want, I will make sure of it. I will not silence myself again, I swear it.” You smile this time, and his thumb comes to run over your bottom lip. His eyes widen with the contact, as if he’s surprised by his own actions.

“I know why you did now. You didn’t want them to think it was true. Because you already knew how I felt about you, didn’t you?” You smile a little and he mirrors it.

“You were never all that proficient at hiding how you feel. It took everything in me to cover your anger during the session.” You think of how he was so concentrated, looking almost in pain as he watched you in silence. “But yes, I have known of your feelings for a while, although I wasn’t sure if they were aimed at me.” You step forward again, and you can feel his chest against yours, robes brushing your bare arms.

“How long?”

“A few months. My own - affections, however, have been stirring for quite longer, if I am honest with myself.” He almost sounds ashamed, and you want to punch every single council member for making him feel that way.

“If it makes you feel better, I have definitely had a crush on you for longer than that.” He breaths out a laugh, and you feel it on your cheeks. 

“Is that so?” You loved this side of him, teasing and lighthearted. It was rarer these days, but it made you feel warm inside that he let you see it.

“Don’t let it go to your head.” You roll your eyes and grin at him, and he closes the distance between you. He doesn’t kiss you, but he’s close enough that if you stuck your chin out just a fraction, your lips would touch. Your legs feel like jelly and you are sure he can feel how nervous you are through the energy you must be putting out, but you never hide it. Not from him. You hear him swallow, and you keep your eyes closed.

Just in case.

“I don’t know what this is.” He says, his honesty making you feel a lot more at ease. Neither of you have any idea how to play this, of what is too far. All you know is how badly you want him to kiss you.

“Neither do I.” He nods and leans his forehead to yours. Now all you would have to do is tilt your head, and you could finally feel him against you how you have wanted to all these years. “We can just- go slow. Okay?”

“Slow.” He says and you can feel him sigh, and then he moves. He tilts his head. You stay deadly still, afraid to scare him off. As much as you both are completely inexperienced, you are pretty sure he has less an idea than you do. You were 19 when he found you, and didn’t become a Jedi until two years after, so you had some time to experiment in that department, but from what you know, Obi-Wan has been dedicated since childhood - something you admire about him.

His breathing picks up and his lips brush against yours. He was right there, all you had to do was move. He makes a small sound in the back of his throat and you cant contain yourself anymore. You move your head to capture his mouth in yours.

The kiss is as perfect as any first kiss you could imagine. It was sweet, no tongue, just slow, simple movements as you both explore the feeling of each other. His free hand comes to your hip on instinct, pressing you harder against him. He clearly wasn’t prepared for his own action again, a moan of surprise vibrating against your lips as your bodies come together. You move both of your arms around his neck, one tangling in his messy hair.

As you start to find a rhythm, the hand on your hip gets tighter, needing you to be closer, to touch more of him. You need it too, and as much as you wanted to rip his clothes off right now, your sense of urgency is dulled by the unknown of if this would ever happen again, so you were going to be as slow and explorative as possible. 

You swipe your tongue along his bottom lip, and you feel him jolt a little under the movement. It sends warmth through your entire body to know how affected he is by you, and it only makes you want to give him more. You owed everything to him, your entire life, and you wanted to show him just how much you appreciated him. 

He opens up to you and you slide into his mouth, the feeling of him moving against you making you moan. The sound mades him tense, and he gets a little more desperate with his movements, kissing you a little harder and walking to back you up against the bed. You spin and push him back, and his legs give out so he sits on the edge.

He looks up at you, chest heaving. He extends his arms and you take the hint, straddling him and bringing your mouth back to his. Both of his hands stay off your ass, one coming back on your hip, which you think he likes because he can create the tiniest amount of friction between you, the other resting on the small of your back. You keep your arms around his neck and he twists his head a little, inching your hand back up into his hair. You smile a little and oblige him, twisting your fingers through the soft strands. 

You start to feel him harden underneath you, but you don’t want to push him. Instead, you just follow the grip on your hip and start to move when he does, grinding against him ever so slightly. He moans instantly, a deep, low sound that vibrates to your bones. You do it again, and he gasps, so you tear your lips away from him to let him breath. His mouth chases yours and you giggle.

“I don’t think I will ever get enough of that.” He murmurs as he kisses your nose. You roll your hips again and his spine straightens, capturing your lips in another kiss. “Or that.”

“So greedy.” He laughs and kisses you again, and you can tell he’s not really sure where to go from here as his grip begins to loosen on your hip. “Have you ever..?”

He shakes his head, and drops his forehead to your chest. You let the tips of your fingers lightly scrape against his scalp and he ‘hmms’ under his breath, enjoying the sensation but also hiding from you.

“Thats okay. We don’t have to do anything. I just want to be with you right now. Whatever that means.” He looks up and kisses you again. You know what this would mean, the final nail in the coffin for him.

Technically, its the emotional connection that the Jedi do not allow. The physical side of things is not forbidden, as long as there is no relationship, although most Jedi observe celibacy as a general rule. You have since you met him, it would have been impossible for you to have one without the other. 

The movement of your hips is not the problem for him, though. It’s the fact that you both know there is more here than just a physical attraction. You admitted it. This would be breaking the code.

You only care right now if he does.

“I want- Maker. I want to. This is-“ He talks and cuts himself off by kissing you, never finishing a sentence. You look up and laugh and he just kisses your throat, turning to kiss your neck when you look to the side. You stop laughing when you feel his arms wrap around you tighter and a slight scrape of his teeth against the spot that makes you shiver. He pulls back to look at you, and then does it again, kissing and scraping his teeth, biting experimentally.

You can tell he’s enjoying it, and he spends a while moving himself up and down your neck, finding all the little places that make you gasp and hum.

“Oh, Obi. Shit.” Your head drops to his shoulder and your hips start to move on their own. He keeps kissing your neck, starting to suck and bite in the spot he seems to have deemed his favourite. He moans against your skin, and a small fire in the pit of your stomach sparks and warms your entire body. You pull on his hair again, and his hips buck slightly.

“This is okay?” He says against you and you nod and roll your hips again.

“Yes. Yes.” He continues, and that same shiver goes up your spine.

“You are so soft.” His nose drags along your throat and your mouth drops open.

“Can I- Can I touch you?” You ask desperately and he pulls away from your skin, nudging your head up to find your eyes.

“You want to?” He seems genuinely curious, and you nod. Your hands come to his chest and you slide them up to his shoulders, bringing the two layers of robes off his shoulders slowly, giving him ample time to stop you. He helps to pull them off, and then you bring his hands to your shirt. His eyes widen a little at the thought, but you see him try to regain composure.

“Do you want to?” He grabs the hem of your shirt and fists the material.

“Please.” He breaths out and pulls your shirt over your head slowly, goosebumps appearing where his fingertips brush your skin. When the shirt finally comes off he lets his eyes trail along your now exposed skin, just a small bralette holding you from him. You lean back a little so both of his hands can find your ribs, and they run strong lines up and down your sides.

“So soft.” He repeats and you begin to melt into his lap.

You bring your hands to the hem of his shirt, and he clearly is not as patient as you, his own coming over the top and whipping the shirt over his head. You have seen him without his shirt before, sometimes after training he would tear it off before he disappears into his room and you would get a glimpse of his back, but now you were up close and could look as much as you want.

He was built; bigger than he looks under all those robes, and you run your hands over the hard muscle, wanting to remember the feeling of every inch. He keeps one hand on your rib cage and brings the other to your chin to kiss you again.

“You are beautiful.” He whispers, and your heart sparks at the compliment.

“So are you.” You return and he smiles into the kiss. Your hand finds the hem of his pants, fingertips dancing along the seam and he sucks in a deep breath. “We don’t have to do anything. Tell me if you want to stop, okay?”

“Have you done this? Before.” As much as you want to tell him no if only to make him relax, you can’t lie to him. You nod your head.

“Not for a while. Not since I met you.” This sparks something in his eye, and you would never have picked him for a possessive guy, but it seems he likes the idea of him being the reason you haven’t.

“I have not. I am not sure I know-“

“Anything you do is perfect. Just relax, okay? Let me make you feel good.” He tilts his head as you slide off him, and sits up a little to come with you. You just stop him with your hands on his thighs, and slip your fingers into the waistline of his pants.

You aren’t sure how you manage to be so patient with the way he’s looking at you - eyes wide and bottom lip between his teeth, but you wait. Wait for him to say stop, or to bring you back into his lap and change the direction. He does neither, and you pull ever so slightly, revealing skin you’ve never seen before. You tilt your head up at him and he just nods repeatedly, moving his hips in a silent plea.

“Oh, Maker. What do I d-” With another deep breath, his eyes flutter closed and then back open, trying to figure out if he wants to watch or just feel you. You slide his pants down a little more and you can see how hard he is already. You look up at him again, and he’s staring so intently that you feel he would have said something if he wanted you to stop. His energy is warm around you, like nothing you’ve ever felt and it is full of curiosity and heat. You pull his pants down past his knees.

Sliding in between his legs you bring your face closer to his length, and your breath is hot against his skin. His pants drop to his ankles and he quickly kicks them off.

You start slow, placing a kiss to the inside of his thigh, and his hips jolt in response. You laugh breathlessly, and decide there will be plenty of time to tease him later.

You were going to make this so good for him that he will never be able to think of anything else when he looks at you.

You start at his head, kissing him gently. Then, finding his eyes you lick a long stripe up him from base to tip. He strangles a moan, and his eyes never leave you as you take the tip of him into your mouth and suck gently.

“I-oh maker. Fuck.” You can see the way every part of his body relaxes under your manipulation, and a rush of heat floods your body. Something about Obi-Wan swearing, coming undone because of you makes your own arousal begin to grow, but you try to focus all your energy on him. You stay there for a while, gently sucking and letting your tongue swipe over him, enjoying the little moans he makes every time you do so.

When your sure he’s relaxed, you look up at him again and spit, bringing your hand up to coat his length, making it as wet as you can. His eyes roll back at the image, and every time your hand works him his hips buck to meet you.

You take him into your mouth and hollow your cheeks, letting him fuck your face as much as he wants. He was acting off pure instinct, it’s still slow and a little uncertain but he starts to go a little deeper when he feels you moan around his length, a wordless plea for him to take what he needs. A hand finds your hair, not to push you down but just to hold, a reminder of where he is. The other arm supports his weight as he no longer holds himself up, and you pull off of him after a few strokes, saliva coating your mouth.

“How does it feel?” His eyes are squeezed shut and his abs are flexing so hard he almost looks like he’s in pain. You don’t know why it didn’t occur to you before, but he’s probably also never had an orgasm. It makes you want to work even harder, make him feel even better, so you take him back inside your mouth before he answers.

“So go-ah! So good. Stars- You feel so good. How are you so good?” He’s completely lost in his own pleasure and it makes you feel all tingly in your stomach. You try to keep your eyes on him and work him faster, grip him harder as you push to get him over the edge. You keep pumping him in your hand as your mouth comes off him to catch your breath for a second.

“I can make you feel so much better.” You take him back into your mouth, and the sounds of him inside of you are only muffled by how loud he is, moaning your name and strangled cries every time he hits the back of your throat. Small tears start to form in your eyes but you keep going, every sound he makes only making you feel hotter. You can feel him everywhere - and when you start to take him as deep as you can, he hits the back of your throat once and he shudders.

“Wait! St-stop. Wait.” Immediately you pull off him, and you can see how fucking close he was, the tip of him leaking pre cum and his entire body shaking.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok?” He nods, trying to catch his breath. You wipe your mouth with your thumb, and slip it into your mouth wanting to savour the taste of him.

“Something feels - strange. I don’t know wh-” He’s breathing so hard it takes him a moment to get the words out in a way you understand - but you know. You know exactly what he’s going to say, and save him from his clear embarrassment when you lean up to whisper on his ear.

“Good strange? Or bad?”

“I can’t- good. Overwhelming; I can’t feel a-anything else.” He sounds a little worried, but the pleasure is evident in how he drags out his words. He’s worried because he can’t feel the familiar safety of the Force when his mind goes blank.

“It’s- it’s okay. I promise. Relax, okay? I’m right there with you.” He nods rapidly and even though he’s noticeably a little nervous his body scoots further off the edge, closer to your mouth. You smile and lean in, and he instantly falls right back into his building orgasm.

You work him hard and fast, swirling your tongue and taking him as deep as you can. He gets louder as you get quicker, and you can’t help but moan around him as he thrusts into you with less composure.

“Hol- yes, that’s- right there oh gods-“ His entire body shakes as he cums in your mouth. His orgasm takes all the strength in his body and he falls back, arm giving out as he flops onto the bed. He says your name over and over and it’s like it hits him in waves, you just keep pumping him into your mouth and taking whatever he gives you. His abs are flexing every time you take him into the back of your throat and the slight reaction as he stops moaning your name makes you slow down.

His hand comes over his abdomen and you watch as he begins to come back to his body, the rise and fall of his chest becoming a little more even as you slide him out of your mouth.

“Come here.” He says, his voice so low and thick that you move faster than you thought possible. You come up next to him, and gasp as his hands find your wrists and he pins you against the bed, both of you vertical on the bed and your head perfectly centre on the pillows. He looks over you, completely naked and kisses you deeply, his tongue sliding into your mouth. He was a quick learner. The taste of him is still on your tongue, and the mixture of his mouth makes your head spin.

“Was that okay?” You ask under him and he presses a short kiss to your lips and then laughs.

“You are joking, right? That was the most incredible thing I’ve ever felt.” You blush at the way he looks at you, completely enamoured. “I want to make you feel like that.” You freeze and all the blood in your body rushed to your core. A look of determination you’ve seen from training covers his expression.

“You don’t have to, don’t feel like ob-“

“Let me make you feel good.” He purrs your words from earlier in your ear and your eyes flutter closed as he pulls your pants down your legs. He leaves your underpants on, and shifts so his body is between your legs. He hangs above you, and the way his eyes drop down to your underwear and slowly work their way back up to your face makes you feel hot all over. He stays like that, above you as he does something you can only describe as admiring you.

One of his hands brushes over your stomach, fingers tracing aimless lines along your skin. You try to stay as still as possible, but the way he looks at you, how he runs his hands so so close to the hem of your underwear, and then slide away to explore somewhere else. It isn’t long until your squirming underneath him.

“Please, Obi-Wan.” He blinks a couple times, focusing back on what he was doing.

“Sorry. Your beautiful.” He leans down to press a kiss to your stomach, and then copies what you did to him, moving down your body, kissing your thighs and it making your back arch. “Show me.”

“Wh-what do you want to do?” He looks up at you and, after seeing you smile at him encouragingly, slowly drags your underpants down your legs, making sure his fingertips touch all the exposed skin they can on the way. Then he lays down between your legs, and looks up at you, awaiting instruction. “Fuck. O-okay.”

You open your legs a little more and let your hand tangle in his hair. He leans into that touch, and he ‘hmms’ again as you run your fingertips through it. He kisses your thighs again, and his tongue darts out to lick the skin there a little bit. You realise he’s still waiting.

“Just- anything. Please touch me.”

“Hmm. You never were a good teacher.” Your jaw drops open and you laugh without making a sound, way too distracted with how sexy he looks between your legs.

“Give me your hand.” He does as you ask, and you run his hand down over your stomach. His hands are softer than you thought, and when you bring one of his fingers over your clit, you let out a long moan of his name.

You show him how you would touch yourself, but somehow it feels a hundred times better with his hand. He follows your motions and you let go, fisting the blankets as he copies you. It takes him a moment but he never takes his eyes off you, watching as each time he touches you right your body reacts, and faster than you were prepared for he starts to build a perfect pattern.

“Like this?” He applies more pressure and you arch further off the bed. Of course he would be a fast learner. You feel him move closer, his breath hot on your arousal. You nod frantically and moan in a loud, long release. “What about this?”

“Oh fuck! Yes, just like that!” He flicks his tongue over your clit. You don’t remember a time you’ve been this sensitive so fast, but then again you’ve never had someone as incredible as Obi-Wan Kenobi between your legs. He swirls his tongue in the same pattern he was creating with his fingers and the feeling intensifies, your nerve endings buzzing with pleasure.

“Need more. Wanna feel you.” You break out between gasps and he unfortunately takes his expert mouth off you to answer.

“Okay, darling. Show me, okay?” He brings his hand up again and you quickly bring two of his fingers into your mouth and suck on them. He never takes his eyes of you, the image of you sucking his cock earlier surely running through his mind. You run his hand back down and guide them to your entrance and he slides them into you.

“Move them- oh, shit - up. Just a little.” You prop yourself up on your forearms but your head drops back as he curls his fingers inside you, and you practically sob when he does it again while returning his mouth to your clit.

He starts slow, and you are too enveloped in your own pleasure to give him instructions, but it’s like he reads your body. You both work so in sync with each other on the battle field and in meetings, it makes sense he would be able to give you exactly what you were so desperate for without having to speak. He can feel every time he does in the right way, when his tongue and his fingers sync up, and he chases the form every time.

Once he figures out a pattern that makes you squirm he goes faster. The pace makes your eyes roll in the back of your head thinking about how good he makes you, and only you, feel.

“Right there. Oh m-“ He takes your clit into his mouth and sucks. If you thought he was loud, you were definitely louder as you cry out, begging him not to stop.

“So- stars; so pretty.” He says and you can feel the heat of his words on your wetness. “And so wet. For me?”

“Yes. Always for you.” He groans and goes faster and faster, his entire mouth exploring the taste of you while still hitting that spot that makes you cry out.

“So fucking warm. Thought about this - feel perfect.” The lewdness of his words make your legs begin to shake and you can’t see - can’t feel anything but the earth shattering sensation filling every part of your body.

Pleasure builds faster than ever and you can’t prepare for how hard you cum in his mouth. Everything flashes in sparkles of heat and melts your mind until you can’t think - pulling his hair and riding his face through your pleasure.

Your leg muscles were sore already and you manage to open your eyes to see your thighs have seized up around his head, keeping him in place. He doesn’t seem to mind, and although he has taken his fingers out of you his mouth remains, aimlessly tasting you seemingly for his own enjoyment. He has no idea the effect he’s having on you, and his tongue brushes over your clit occasionally, the overstimulation making your lungs burn.

“Oh Maker. Obi please come here.” You say, and your shakey legs drop open from his head. He looks up at you, and takes a final taste of your pussy before crawling up your body, kissing you.

“You taste sweet.” He whispers into your mouth. There’s something about how dirty the words are mixed with how proper and polite he always is that makes your legs shake for a different reason, and you pull him down next to you, curling your body into his.

“You are amazing.” It’s his turn to blush, and you see a little red come across his cheeks in the dim light of the room.

“Hardly in comparison, my love.” Your heart is slamming in your ears. That was your favourite nickname, you think. He brushes the hair out of your face, a finger tucking it behind your ear so he can see you better.

“Can you stay?” He shouldn’t. You know he shouldn’t, because if anyone sees him leaving tomorrow everything you both said at the council meeting will be worthless.

“Of course I will stay. As long as you want me to.” You smile into his neck as you bury your face there.

“I want you all the time.”

“Then I will stay all the time.” You both smile, enjoying the simplicity of this moment, knowing it will not last.

“We don’t have to talk about it right now, okay?” You can sense his worry - and you are relieved you sense no regret like you were so sure he would feel. His muscles relax under your words and he nods, pulling your back against his chest so you can feel his slowing heart beat. Somehow - as if it was possible, you feel more connected to him that before. Your energies were always intertwined, but now it’s like they were fused. You could still tell who was who, and they could be taken apart, but together they formed something greater - stronger; and you knew he could feel it too.

You both fall asleep soon after, knowing tomorrow will bring forward a thousand new challenges, with a million new consequences.

You don’t care.

The world could burn down around you, and you would happily watch it, as long as you could do so in his arms. There will be nothing they can take, nothing they can say that will diminish how you feel, and no Jedi Order could convince either of you that what you felt for each other was wrong.

If anything, it made you stronger, and maybe one day you could prove it to them.

[talkfastwalkfaster]

Serenity ~ Ben Kenobi x Reader

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ

A/N: this is set about 5 years after rots. reader is about 27 & obi-wan is 43. i was going to make a valentine anakin fic but that plan moved so enjoy my other love, hermit obi-wan. this is my first time writing smut so it might not be the best. also, if you have any feedback, it's welcomed & appreciated :)♡ WC: 3,041 Warnings: MDNI, smut, some angst

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ

Tatooine was known for its extremely warm temperatures, but today was worse than ever. Ben was drenched in sweat the entire day, making him wish they could afford a cooling system to install within their home. 

He noticed you never seemed to sweat as extensively as he did. He assumed it was because you were a native of the planet. 

“(y/n), are you certain that our animals will survive this weather?" Ben called out from the entrance of your home. His thoughts were consumed by his trusted stead, Eopie may have been able to sustain this weather in previous times, but that didn't ease his worries.

Ben headed into your house and over to the kitchen where you had been for the past few minutes. 

He rested his hand on your lower back and peered over your shoulder to watch you chop up some vegetables for dinner. If he was honest, he was a little envious that this heat was seemingly not affecting you as it was him.

Your mouth formed into a small smile as you continued cutting vegetables, “I’m certain, Ben, they’ve survived hotter weather than this before. They’ll be fine.”

He exhaled, his shoulders deflating as he continued to gaze at you. He knew his worries were futile, yet his concerns wouldn’t falter. “I know, I know. I just can’t help but worry for them.” 

This was his life now, he had accepted becoming a farmer ages ago, but there was still a lot more that he would have to come to terms with; he was still haunted by memories of the war, watching Anakin fall to the dark side, watching Qui-Gon die, watching Satine die, watching his beloved Commander and battalion turn against him in the blink of an eye…

He rubbed the back of his neck, attempting to shake the weight that always seemed to be weighing him down. “I suppose it’s just the heat getting on my nerves. It feels as though the heat of a hundred suns is shining down. I don’t know how you’re acting all nonchalant, I feel like I might as well be burning and yet you’ve barely broken a sweat.”

You glanced over your shoulder to look at him, “Well I have lived here all my life, I’m used to the heat.” The truth was that the heat always did manage to bother you a little, but you had grown up in the scalding temperatures, you were, unfortunately, accustomed to them. It made no sense for you to complain about it. 

“I don’t know how you do it if it’s not the heat that’s unbearable, it’s the awful sandstorms that are always passing through here,” Ben complained. Despite having lived on Tatooine for a while now, it seemed as though no matter what he did, he could never get used to the heat. His mind digressed toward Anakin and his hatred toward this planet, and he finally seemed to understand his point of view. But Ben quickly pushed that thought away as his heart ached each time his mind brought up his former student. 

He was brought out of his trance by the sound of your voice. “You’ll get used to them. Sure, they might not be ideal but Tatooine isn’t as bad as it could be. I mean the war never came here and the Empire has little interest in this planet. The weather may not be perfect and there are always things that could be improved here, but i can’t think of living anywhere else,” You mused. You knew that Ben got stuck in his head easily and you’ve known him long enough to see the signs of it. 

His brow always started to furrow and he stroked his beard, seemingly without even realizing it. You’ve figured out that the best way to bring him back to the present was to talk about where you are. Even though you’re not necessarily fond of praising Tatooine, he needs it, and that’s all that matters to you. 

“I wish I had as much patience as you do, my dear,” he sighed, taking in another deep breath. 

It all seemed so normal, this was a conversation that any couple could have. To any outsiders, you two would be seen as a regular husband and wife, like any other married couple in the galaxy. Ben was slowly starting to feel content with his life here, he could almost forget everything that happened five years prior. He could almost pretend that he did not come to Tatooine because of his failure, that he didn’t have to go into hiding, and that his life didn’t completely spiral because of one order.

Your face softened, knowing how difficult it’s been for Ben. It always seemed as though he was unable to completely move forward, despite his best attempts, because of whatever happened in his past. “Well, you've only been here what, 5 years? You have to give yourself time to adjust, sweetheart."

A faint smile stretched across his lips when you called him ‘sweetheart’. It was the most endearing pet name you had ever given him and he felt a warmness throughout his chest whenever you used it. It made him feel normal, he didn’t have to worry about his former life as Jedi Master and General Obi-Wan Kenobi anymore, he could just be Ben, your husband.

He chuckled softly, watching as you began to cook the vegetables before wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. “I know, darling, I know…” he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and sighed, breathing in the scent of you, something that always relaxed him.

As you cooked, your mind briefly wandered to Coruscant, Ben had once mentioned that he was born and lived most of his life there. You wondered if the planet was anything similar to Tatooine or if it was the complete opposite. You had always wanted to ask him more about his past, what he was like before you met him 3 years ago, and yet, for some reason, you could never bring yourself to give in to those desires.

However, as the two of you stood in the kitchen, you believed that now would be a better time than any to ask him, seeing as this was the first time in a while that he was truly beginning to relax. You hummed softly, attempting to keep the peaceful environment that had been created, “You said you were from Coruscant right? Is it very different from here?”

Ben stiffened slightly from his position behind you before forcing himself to relax, he knew you had no ill intent with your question. If this was any other time, he would have avoided your prodding, but for once, he decided to indulge you, even if only slightly. “It’s very different from here, my dear.” he held you tighter and kept his head resting in the crook of your neck, your familiar scent had always given him a sense of peace and calmness, something which he craved, wishing he could forever be engulfed in it.

“Coruscant makes Tatooine look like a ghost town. It’s full of large buildings and many different levels. You could always hear the buzzing of speeders and people clamoring to numerous places,” Ben paused for a second, wondering how much more he should tell you, before ultimately deciding it’s best to keep it brief, “Let’s just say there was never a dull moment there, my love.”

You decided to push your luck, desperately wanting to know more about your husband. You murmured, as if trying not to startle Ben with your next question, “Do you ever miss it?”

His heart immediately constricted at the thought, though he quickly dismissed it. There was no reason for him to start dwelling on what-ifs, this was his life now, and there was no changing the past. “My life there? No, not at all,” he replied quickly, the lie coming out easy. 

This has become a type of dance for him, every once in a while you would try to inquire about his past and he would always find ways to avoid giving too much detail. He would only ever respond vaguely enough to not make you suspicious while also satisfying your curiosity. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you what his past life actually entailed, it was still too raw, too painful. He didn’t want you to worry either. He knew that he couldn’t hide who he once was from you forever, but he couldn’t tell you today, not now. 

Ben rested his chin on your shoulder and muttered “I wouldn’t want to go back.” A half-truth, he’s not as fond of the planet as he used to be, but it still holds some sentimental value to him. It’s not that he would never want to go back to Coruscant, it’s that he can’t. If he ever tried he knew the Empire would be on him as soon as he was even remotely close to the planet’s atmosphere. 

You finished cooking the vegetables and raised your eyebrows slightly surprised, not expecting that answer from him. “Never?” you inquired, feeling slightly bewildered. “You’d really never want to go back? Was it that bad?”

Ben held you tighter and exhaled, that part of him died years ago. To him, Obi-Wan died the moment he left Anakin to die on Mustafar — he had been, in a way, reborn as Ben. He was just Ben Kenobi, a simple farmer, and your husband. Nothing more, nothing less. “It was fine, nothing particularly interesting happened to me when I lived there,” he lied again, giving you a soft kiss on the side of your neck hoping that this topic of discussion would die out soon.

You sighed at his words and murmured, “Dinner’s ready.” You decided to let the topic drop, knowing that he wasn’t exactly telling you the truth, but you hoped that one day he would trust you enough to let you completely in. 

The two of you ate dinner in silence, both of you seemingly lost in your thoughts. Ben had intrigued you from the start. You had met him at a market in Mos Espa, and he immediately stood out to you. From the way that he held himself to the way he talked. He looked like someone who had seen the galaxy, who had actually experienced life, something you had always wished to do but never had the luxury. His eyes — his beautiful, entrancing sapphire grey eyes that were like pools of sorrow. They showed a variety of complex emotions, something that made you want nothing more than to break down his highly built-walls and see who he truly was. 

Ben was never one to speak much while eating, he felt there was no need to fill the silence with meaningless chatter — he wanted to just enjoy being with you, you were everything to him. 

He had never thought that he would be able to have this, that he’d be able to feel happy again. For the first two years that he had lived on Tatooine, he had expected that he would be alone forever, that he had deserved to live a life of isolation. But then you came along and completely wrecked all those painful thoughts. 

Ben hadn’t realized that he was being completely quiet, he was still processing that he was married and a farmer — he never thought this was how his life would turn out. “Thank you for the dinner dear,” he remarked appreciatively. 

The corners of your mouth turned upward and your eyes brightened ever so slightly at his gratitude, “You’re welcome. I’m sorry though, I know it’s not much-”

He interrupted, “Don’t worry yourself, it’s perfect… You’re the best, you know that?”

You held back a smile, unable to resist teasing him a little. “Am I now?”

Ben brought your hand up to his lips and kissed the palm gently, “You certainly are, my dear. You are the best thing to happen to me in years and I wouldn’t have it any other way."

You leaned forward and kissed him, deciding that no words would be able to encapsulate how you felt towards him.

His heart fluttered as you kissed him, it was so tender and he was more than willing to return it. Your lips were soft and inviting, and he couldn’t resist pulling you into his lap, his hands gently caressing your face. In response, you wrapped your arms around his neck, desperately wanting to be closer to him.

You couldn’t help but moan softly into the kiss, your body was reacting to his and you were so comfortable being in his arms. He was all you needed in life, there wasn’t anything else that mattered. His hands slowly drifted down and began rubbing small circles on the small of your back. 

Your heartbeat quickened as the two of you pulled apart, the feeling of kissing him was intoxicating. You started to subtly grind your hips down, desperate for any type of friction. 

Ben gasped softly at your ministrations and quickly connected your lips again. The kiss between the two of you was full of love and passion. Your hands were everywhere, one wrapped behind his neck and your other around his shoulder, as if you were trying to entangle yourself with him.

Ben deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out and exploring your mouth. He couldn’t take it anymore and picked you up, heading straight for your shared bedroom. Your arms were tightly wrapped around his neck and you kissed all over his face and neck as he took you to the room. 

Once you reached the bedroom he gently laid you down on the bed and slowly made his way on top of you, wanting to savor each moment. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at you with an expression that could only be described as pure, devoted love before lowering himself and kissing you again, this time slower and more intimate than he had previously. 

Without breaking the kiss, he started to tenderly remove your tunic from your body, revealing your naked top to his gaze. The rest of your clothes were quickly removed and thrown off the bed as Ben began to kiss you everywhere — your neck, your shoulders, your chest, anywhere he could get his lips on. His hands slowly made their way down your chest, squeezing and massaging your breasts before finally heading towards your neglected pussy. You were completely entranced by his touch, his hands were sending shivers throughout your entire body, making you tremble with anticipation.

You whimpered in pleasure as his hands moved downward and he inserted one finger into your dripping folds while lightly rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb.  You hastily tugged on his own tunic, stripping him until both of you were naked on the bed. You grasped his shoulders and spread your legs open wider, inviting him to come closer. Ben slotted himself in between your thighs and hovered on top of you, his arms caging you in. 

Ben shifted slightly, slipping one hand in between your bodies to grasp his cock. He dragged the tip of it through your folds a couple of times before finally sinking into you. You moaned as he pressed himself closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist as you adjusted to the size of his cock. 

You gripped his shoulders tighter, nails digging into his skin as you begged, “Ben, please, move.”

He slowly began to rock his hips, not wanting to rush this moment. The love between the two of you was palpable, your bodies fit together perfectly as if you were made for each other.  He moved his head to your neck, pressing soft kisses into the crook of it. He knew right then that everything he went through was worth it if this was his fate. All of his struggles and hardships faded away as if all that mattered was you and him. 

Your moans grew louder as he gradually picked up his pace, the wet squelching sounds of your skin meeting filled the room. Your nails raked down his back, pleasure completely filling your senses, the only thought on your mind was Ben. 

As your lips met again, the kiss was tender yet rough, a juxtaposition that seemed to also perfectly describe your husband. You could feel your orgasm looming, squeezing his cock and pulling him deeper into you. He moaned into the kiss, his hips stuttered, spilling inside of you, coating your insides with his cum. His orgasm triggered your own, whining loudly as you spasmed around him, your whole body trembling as you rode out your high.

The two of you laid there for a while, basking in each other’s presence before he slowly pulled out of you, the mixture of your cum slowly running down your pussy and thighs. 

You leaned up and gently kissed the side of his mouth, “I love you, Ben.”

A soft smile grew on his lips, his heart was overflowing with his love for you. He had never felt like this with anyone but you — you were his person and he was yours, you were perfectly suited. He had no doubt in his mind that you were his soulmate, and he’d thank the Maker that the Force led him to you. “I love you too, my dear.”

You looked up at him lovingly, knowing that this was where you were meant to be, everything seemed right, everything made sense, when you were with him and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You knew in the back of your mind that you still had ways to go with Ben, but in this moment, none of that mattered, you’d have him in any way you could.

He exhaled and pressed his forehead against your shoulder — leaning against you in this way felt very nice. His body, mind, and soul felt rejuvenated just by being in your presence.

The two of you shifted so that you were laying your head on his chest and your legs were intertwined. Slowly you and Ben drifted asleep, your bodies, minds, and souls forever entwined.

[flightlessangelwings]

Ktober 2023 Day 5- Table Sex

Sith!Obi Wan Kenobi x fem!reader

Word count- 1.9k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), the prompt is table but it's actually desk sex lol, seduction, possessive/protective Kenobi, inappropriate use of the force, no use of y/n

Notes- Dedicating this one to all the Sith!Obi girlies (gn)! Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is myupdate blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

~

“You wished to see me, Lord Kenobi?” you asked from the doorway to his office where you stood at attention.

He looked up from his desk, yellow eyes looking deep into your soul. But, his face softened- something that didn’t always happen. Lord Kenobi stood up and said your name, “Yes, come in,” he crossed around to the front of his desk.

“Yes, sir?” your voice wavered as you crossed the room and stood only a few feet from him. You took a deep breath to try and steady yourself.

“I hear you’ve been doing good work lately,” he crossed his arms and stood just a little taller, never breaking eye contact with you, “I wanted to thank you personally for all your hard work.”

You shivered, unsure why since the room wasn’t cold, “T-thank you, sir,” you bowed your head slightly. This wasn’t the first time he had done this, but it still made your pulse quicken every time. You had never heard Lord Kenobi praise anyone before, and as much as it sent a jolt of excitement, it also made you nervous since you weren’t sure why he was always so different with you.

 “Please there’s no need for that,” his tone was smooth and sultry as he reached out and tilted your chin up so that you met his gaze once more, “There,” he purred as he released you, “That’s better.”

You stiffened as you swallowed hard. You felt as if his eyes could see every little secret you ever held, including the attraction you developed for your superior. Knowing what you did about the force, you tried your best to bury your feelings whenever he was around, yet you couldn’t help but feel like his eyes read you like a book regardless.

“Is there something I can do for you, my Lord?” you asked, unsure of what to make of the way he devoured you with his eyes.

Kenobi just stared intently for a moment. “Is everything alright with you? Your superiors are treating you well?”

Completely caught off guard by his question, your mouth opened and closed a few times, “Y-yes sir.”

His eyes narrowed, “Are you lying to me?”

“No sir,” you replied almost too quickly.

“So if I were to ask if anyone gave you a difficult time, you would say no? Correct?”

“Why are you asking me this?” you asked, finding yourself too bewildered to be afraid at the moment.

He huffed, “I don’t want anyone accusing you of gaining favoritism from me is all.” Kenobi spoke so nonchalantly that you almost didn’t believe those were his words.

Your posture fumbled slightly, “No sir.” Even you didn’t believe your own words. You had been having trouble with some of the others in your unit, who bullied you and gave you a hard time because of Lord Kenobi’s apparent affinity towards you, but you had no idea he actually knew about it; you hadn’t told anyone about it.

Kenobi slowly stepped close until you felt his breath on your face. He didn’t seem upset that you blatantly lied to his face. In fact, he almost seemed amused. He cupped your chin once more, forcing you to look into his eyes, “As much as I hate to admit it,” his tone was low, “They are correct. I do favor you.”

You let out a gasp as you felt your body freeze in place. A thousand thoughts ran through your mind, but you had trouble forming any words for several moments, “Are you… using the force on me, my Lord?” was all you could say. You felt like you wanted to run, yet you couldn’t budge.

“Never, my darling,” he purred, “I want you to come to me on your own free will,” Kenobi paused, “If you wish, you may leave at any time,” he gestured to the door.

Suddenly you realized that nothing actually held you in place. Kenobi’s grip on your chin wasn’t tight enough to stop anything but turning your head, and he didn’t hold you anywhere else. Your skin warmed as you felt exposed, your secret revealed.

“But I will warn you, if you stay,” Kenobi smirked darkly, “I won’t be able to hold myself back any longer.”

Your eyes darted towards the door over your shoulder and you let out a heavy breath. But, you made your choice, “My Lord,” you whispered softly.

Kenobi’s face lit up, “Good girl,” he cooed as he closed the gap between your faces in a flash with a deep and heated kiss. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you towards him and engulfing you completely.

You moaned into his mouth as you surrendered to him, your fantasy finally coming true. Never in a thousand years would you have thought that the mighty, powerful, handsome Lord Kenobi would want you, but here he was, kissing you passionately, his hands roaming all over your figure.

In a flash of movement, Lord Kenobi spun you around and backed you up so that your legs hit his desk. When you gasped, he only kissed you deeper, his tongue exploring your mouth and playing with your own. You clung to his robes for support as you tilted your head to allow him better access to your body.

“You taste even better than I thought,” Kenobi groaned in a low tone, “Now let me see how lovely you are underneath those,” he tugged at your uniform.

“My Lord,” you moaned as you felt him open your jacket and slide it off your shoulders, followed by your undershirt.

“Beautiful,” he purred as he cupped your breasts. Kenobi’s fingers brushed across your nipples, causing you to moan loudly, as he squeezed and fondled your soft mounds.

You saw stars as he fondled you, his touch as expert as if he had touched you a hundred times before. But, you were caught off guard once more when you felt a slight pressure on your clit. Without realizing it, your eyes had fluttered shut, but they shot open when you felt that pressure on your clit again.

“My Lord?” you whined.

“Does that feel good, my dear?” Kenobi smirked as his hands ran down your sides and started working on your pants.

“Yes,” you breathed immediately.

His yellow eyes looked like they were about to burst into flames at any moment, “Good,” he put some pressure on your clit once more using the force. His cock twitched in his robes when every moan and writhe you let out, obviously enjoying this greatly.

Kenobi started removing your pants, but he didn’t make things easy for you. He continued to put pressure on your clit even as he worked on undressing you. Your body jerked with every push between your legs, and as it got harder, your legs trembled.

“Lord Kenobi,” you moaned his name as you fought to keep yourself upright on his desk.

“Are you going to cum, my lovely?” his tone was dangerously low.

“Yes,” you breathed.

He let out one single, sharp laugh before he stopped the assault on your clit with the force. When you let out a desperate whine, he put a finger on your lips to shush you, “I don’t want you to cum yet,” he warned as he yanked at his robes, “I don’t want you to cum until my cock is deep inside you.”

The moan you let out was the most sinful sound you had ever made in your life. And you had never been more turned on than you were right there, naked on Lord Kenobi’s desk with your legs spread and your glistening pussy on full display for him. But, your breath caught in your throat when he pulled his robes off and his fully erect cock sprang free. You couldn’t help but stare as your mouth watered, and you knew he noticed by the way he chuckled darkly.

“Not now, my darling,” he cooed as he grabbed your chin and forced you to look into his eyes, “Right now, I need to fuck you until all you can say is my name,” he leaned in and hovered his lips over yours, “So that everyone here knows you belong to me,” he growled before he kissed you harshly, possessively.

All you could do was moan into him as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and readied yourself for his cock. And you thanked the Maker that he didn’t make you wait long as he positioned himself at your entrance.

Kenobi broke away from the kiss just in time to thrust into you in one harsh movement, fully sheathing himself inside you and savoring the scream that you let out. Your mouth hung open and the moans and cried flowed freely as he thrust into you over and over again, fucking you right there on his desk.

“That’s it, darling,” Kenobi groaned as he felt your warmth around him, “Scream as loud as you want,” skin spalled against skin as he pounded into you, “I want them to hear the way I fuck you.”

“My Lord… Fuck… Ahhh,” you cried out as the room spun.

“Fuck you feel so good,” Kenobi growled as he bit down on your skin hard and picked up his pace.

“Oh fuck… Lord Kenobi!” you screamed as your body started to tremble.

“That’s it,” he growled, “Cum on my cock, my dear. Then you will be mine.”

With just the right amount of pressure on your clit and Kenobi’s cock hitting that sweet spot deep inside you, you came hard with a loud scream. You clung to Lord Kenobi tightly, so hard that your nails dug into his skin, but he didn’t care. Kenobi thrust into you over and over again, riding out your orgasm on his cock as you gushed onto him.

“That’s a good girl,” he groaned as he started to lose control of himself. Kenobi’s thrusts became erratic as he pounded into you with fervor. The way you clenched around him when you came made him see stars, and temporarily made him putty in your hands- his own little secret. But, it only took a few more thrusts for him to cum deep inside you, spilling himself into you with a growl of your name. 

Spent, Kenobi toppled forward onto his desk, pushing you onto your back in the process. His cock stayed buried inside you, not wanting to pull out just yet. Neither of you moved for several moments, and Lord Kenobi’s arms stayed wrapped around you possessively.

“That was… Maker… Wow,” you sighed as you closed your eyes.

Kenobi huffed in amusement, “There’s plenty more where that came from, my darling.” Begrudgingly, he pulled out of you, but he had to admire the view of you sprawled out on his desk, completely bare, with his seed dripping out of you, “Lovely,” he whispered.

You blinked your eyes open and felt embarrassed that Lord Kenobi was staring at you like that. You made a move to curl yourself up, to cover yourself, but a strong hand stopped you.

“Stay like this,” he ordered.

Swallowing hard, you paused before you answered, “Yes sir,” your voice was so quiet you weren’t sure if he heard you.

“I want you here, like this, every day,” his eyes stared deep into your soul.

“Yes sir,” you moaned.

“Good girl,” Kenobi said in that low sultry voice that made you shiver.

He would take care of anyone who dared harm you later, but for now, your pussy was too tempting to turn away from.

[moonlight-prose]

ahh hello lovely!! Your Sinful Soiree is gorgeous and looks so fun! So excited to read what you make for it.

And would love to send something in! I think about your kinktober Obi-Wan all the time, would love to please request something for him + this prompt: “shh. there’s people in the other room.”

Hope you have a great day! 💖💕

SWEETENED CRAVINGS

a/n: so i sat on this for a bit trying to find the inspo for obi-wan again. but i seriously didn't expect to get it back to this degree. i wrote this quickly and possibly not even paying attention to what i was putting on the paper because my mind was going a mile a minute. so this is probably extremely messy, but i hope you enjoy it darling. (also thank you for reigniting my love for this man. i am now swooning again).

summary: "he’d want the last thing he ever heard to be the sound of you tipping over the edge, falling into a bliss you both craved."

word count: 1.6k+

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, bad explanation of the force, cumplay, cumeating, obi-wan being a tease, possible exhibitionism (if you squint with a magnifying glass).

If you could scream, you would. You would allow every sound you pushed down, every whimper you bit back, free. In fact you wanted to hear it echo around you. Until he went deaf with it. Although knowing him, he’d want that too. He’d want the last thing he ever heard to be the sound of you tipping over the edge, falling into a bliss you both craved.

“F-Fuck. Obi—” Your head fell back against the wall behind you, nails digging into the rough fabric of his robes.

His eyes met yours, the brilliant blue still stealing your breath after so many months of seeing them like this. Darkened with a lust that reverberated through your entire body. A feeling unlike any other. When in fact it was you that showed it to him first. You who got to watch as he discovered what real pleasure felt like—what it did to his psyche.

“I know darling,” he whispered, his lips glistening in you.

One hand gripped your leg that was slung over his shoulder, the other focused on prolonging every little sensation that coursed through you. His fingers curled, brushing against a spot that he always found with astounding accuracy every time. And he watched—a small smile playing on his lips—as you nearly crumpled in on yourself. A sharp gasp leaving your mouth.

“I can’t…” Oh but you wanted to. You wanted to dig your hands into his hair and drag him back to your cunt that practically pulsed with each shift of his hand. You needed to fall off that cliff.

“Yes,” he said, his voice slipping into a tone you were rather familiar with. A demand that only came from a general in war. “You will.”

Nodding without another thought on the matter, you felt his tongue slip back through your folds. A sound clawed up the back of your throat as heat filled your stomach, spreading to the very tips of your fingers. But you fought against it. Did whatever you could to hold it back in your chest. Except then he sucked your clit into his mouth, a soft moan reverberating through your entire body.

A cry tore from your throat, your thighs shaking in his grip. You were right there. And you tried to drag it closer, allowing it to fill your entire being with that white hot burn you loved. You craved it. Desperately needed the sweetness that only he could give to spread along your tongue, but you felt it began to fade. Whatever licked hotly at the edge, sunk back into the darkness.

“No,” you gasped. “No, please. Please I want to—”

He rose to his feet, his hand covering your mouth with fingers that were still covered in your slick. “I know. I know what you want.”

A muffled whine echoed beneath his palm. You hoped that the sound would spur him on; show him how much you needed him to continue. Yet it only made him smile. A light in his eyes that told you he wasn’t done with you yet. Far from it.

Shuffling with one hand, he pulled at his robes with a speed that suggested he wasn’t as calm and collected as you expected him to be. In fact, seeing you like this—tasting you on his tongue—drove him to the brink of a madness he could no longer deny. A state of being he’d happily settle in permanently.

He gripped your leg, hooking it around his hip as the firm head of his cock swiped through your folds. Sending a shiver through your entire body. A broken moan escaping you. He nudged at your clit, his hot breath panting across your skin, and you nearly told him to get it over with. To finally give you what you both wanted. But the feeling of him sinking into you completely, until his hips met yours, sent your head flying back. A ragged cry slipping free.

“Darling,” he grunted, his forehead falling against your temple, eyes squeezed shut.

You couldn’t even get coherent words out, a muffled sound coming out louder than you intended. That only made him press his hand down harder, his lips coming up to your ear, the soft grunt he let out shaking your entire being.

“Shh. There’s people in the other room.” He kissed the spot beneath your ear that sent a shiver down your spine. “I need you to be quiet for me. Can you do that? Can you be good?”

You’d go out onto a fucking battlefield with no weapons at this point. As long as he continued with whatever he had planned. Obi-Wan controlled your entire being, bending you to his will, and you happily allowed it. What more could you want? When he held you like the most precious thing in the galaxy; when he looked at you like you were his north star. His eternal light in the battle against darkness.

Nodding, you felt him pull out slightly, only to press back in with a stunted thrust that had his head falling forward. Neither of you would last very long—not with the prospect of possibly getting caught hanging over your heads. Whichever of you thought fucking in the Jedi Temple was a good idea was certainly not thinking about the consequences.

“So tight,” he gasped, his other hand pulling your leg up higher, allowing him to sink in a bit deeper.

His body shook, teeth digging into his bottom lip, as he realized just how quickly this would be over. Obi-Wan—though a little more experienced than last time—still found himself unable to hold on at times. Not when your walls were so tight around his cock. Each flutter sending him a little higher, the self control he prided himself on, slipping further and further away.

“I’ve got you.”

Another short stunted thrust caused your hips to hit the wall softly, but it did exactly what you needed. His cock pressed against that blinding spot that had your eyes welling up with tears. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, eyes rolling back as the release he had built up suddenly came roaring back.

“So fucking perfect,” he muttered, his speed quickening to chase that feeling he felt build up in the base of his spine. “So good for me darling.”

A whimper was pressed into his palm, your hips canting up to match his thrusts with weak movements.

“I’ve got you.” He gasped, his forehead falling to yours. “I want to feel it. Please. I need it.”

He slammed into you, feeling your cunt clamp down around him as you clawed at his back. Ripping his hand away, his lips pressed against yours, swallowing every sound you made and giving you his in return. He grunted with each thrust, your slick coating the coarse hair at the base of his cock and giving him a chance to perfectly grind against your clit.

“I-” You pulled away, a string of spit connecting your lips together. “I’m—oh—”

 “Yes,” he panted, his tongue sliding against yours, hand moving down to grip your hip. “Let me feel you.”

One final grind of his hips against yours sent the wave of bliss you’d been grasping for through you. A sob of his name was swallowed by his fervent kiss, your spine arching until you were pressed fully into him. Something burst forward, enveloping him whole, and it was only when he shuddered finally reaching his own peak, did you realize it was you.

A bright light of a feeling you could only define as purely Obi-Wan shoved into your body, sending you higher than before. He cried into your mouth, his hand slapping against the wall beside your head as he shook, sinking into the heat of the Force that you drowned him in.

“Fuck,” you sighed when you finally began to come down, your head spinning from the high that still lingered in your body. Sparking up and down your spine.

He chuckled, remaining as close to you as possible, even as his cock softened inside you. “I believe we got a bit carried away.”

You smiled, cupping the back of his neck. “So much for being quiet.”

“I can come up with an explanation for the noise.”

You scoffed. “And what pray tell is this explanation? I apologize for the noise but I couldn’t stop myself from eating out my lover in an empty room.”

His cheeks stained red until it crept up to his ears. “Something of the sort.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’d much rather prefer the term intelligent.”

You laughed, feeling his lips press against your neck, his own smile curving against your skin. “Whatever you say General Kenobi.”

A soft growl echoed in his chest at the sound of you using his title, his teeth digging into your throat. You sighed softly at the feeling of his cock twitching in curiosity, the knowledge that you wouldn’t be leaving this room any time soon now dawning on you.

“Say it again,” he murmured, his hips pushing forward, eliciting a high keening moan from your throat.

“G-General—” His thumb spread the mixture of your cum along your swollen clit, pressing down until your hips jerked forward—painful sparks shooting up your body.

“Good girl.” A wide smile curved on his mouth, the thumb that had been against your clit, now running along your bottom lip, opening you up. “Now.” He moaned at the feel of your tongue against his finger. “Where was I?”

[meshlasolus]

Come What May

Episode 4/?

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!Reader (little one)

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage, allusions to smut but no actual smut. canon typical violence, robbery?? idek y'all

A/n: I can't believe I edited this in one sitting but here u go now be fed and I'll probably post another one in two months lol

NINE YEARS LATER…

The sand was relentless, as it always was. Such was the life on Tatooine.

The days, though boring and long, brought a sense of peace and security to you. It was comfortable, and you didn’t have to worry about being chased.

Life with Obi was still blissful, though he’d become a different sort of person than he used to be. He was still yours, and one thing that would never change in his life was his unending love and devotion to you. Over all the bad things, you were still there, and if that was so, his life could never be all bad.

He became grumpy easily, but you often teased him, joking about how old he was truly getting. He’d hate when you pointed it out, because he already felt so much older than he had when the war was going on. Many would argue that it aged him, but truth be told, he was perhaps living the youngest days of his life back then.

You, of course, had continued to mature into the beautiful woman he’d always seen before. You looked different, sure… but all the ways you’d changed, he would think were for the better. He loved how normal you seemed. It was always so much more peaceful, living here. It was mundane and often quiet, but it was peaceful, and far less demanding of your former lifestyle. He had always hoped you could live a simple and sweet life, maybe not on this maker-forsaken planet, but having days that were just the same.

The daily routine was easy, and by now implanted in both of your minds. It was second nature, and hard to mess up even if you tried. The mornings were always slow, as the work hours were different from what you’d once known. After dragging each other from the warm confines of bed, there was a shared silence that would fall over you both as you continued to ready yourselves for each job you had. You had the fat end of the stick, getting to work in the city. You were legally dead across the galaxy, and the empire had no warrant for you in any scanner known to the systems. Especially not in the outer rim.

Obi-Wan had taken up the name Ben, the name he remembers from childhood. He doesn’t know if it was his original name, or if it was the name of his father, but it belonged to him somehow, and he felt it was easy to go by.

An hour was spent riding to anchor-head everyday, in order to clock in for your shift, and for him to catch a speeder to whatever work station they needed him at for the day. Lately he’d been harvesting flying Tibidon sand whales for their meat. He never failed to bring back a sliver of what he cut for your Eopie. It was something he did out of habit by now, but it somehow reminded you of a small thing he used to do for you many years ago.

Back in the age of the Jedi, before the clone wars ever began, Obi-Wan Kenobi had two padawans. One was the chosen one, and though he was often found to be a trouble maker, he was still the favorite among the two. The other was a small girl, not yet grown to her full capabilities. She always had a strong appetite, though, and the meals given to her were never enough to satisfy her growing form. Obi-Wan was quick to notice little things like this, and always saved his portion of Ksharra bread for her to eat after everyone was finished. The smile it brought to her was not soon forgotten…

What a sweet memory, and you almost always thought about it when you were watching him interact with the Eopie. He was gentle to all creatures, even after he became a bit hardened and settled into his new role of life.

After the ride home, there were meals that were shared in a comfortable quiet, and then a discussion of the day. It was definitely a more quaint way to live, but you preferred it to the horrid idea of running for years on end. You always told him how thankful you were to be with him, to have him amidst everything. It was he who you remembered the earliest in your life, being there for you, watching out for everything you faced, and helping you through it. He was still doing that, in a way. Though it were not by the force, he gave advice of work topics, different moody customers that would come in during the day, and even just ideas to help the work day seem faster.

It was only after he left for bed, with you watching the stars rise, that you were able to meditate. To revel in the force and to trust in its ways without anyone stopping you. Not to say that Obi-Wan would stop you, but he perhaps would try and convince you it still was not safe. It was you, however, that kept up your daily strength by meditation, and use of the force without his knowledge.

Though he would never know, your strong uses of the force were the thing that helped him sleep through the night, as he often woke up with nightmares, stirring your slumber as well and making you alert to the bad things his mind conjured. It was mostly Anakin, because how could it not be? He was his Master and his best friend, a true brother and ally. He had to have felt some sort of responsibility for what happened to him, all leading up to his death.

You too felt semblances of guilt, but you dealt with it in other ways. For him, these nightmares were often occurrences, and it was due to you that he got any sleep at all.

He would sometimes sit straight up at a moment’s notice, scaring you awake and realizing what had happened. He would breath fast and loud and not be able to slow it down, not even when you wrapped your arms around him from behind, whispering soothing words like he once did for you in your time of nightly terrors. At first, he was lucky to get back to sleep at all… but the more it happened, he found you being near him helped to calm him back to sleep. He’d cut himself off from the force, he had no use of it anymore. He didn’t know it was because of your old developed ability to take away the bad dreams. You always slept soundly beside him, even before you were together. Whenever he was laid next to you, there was not a dream that could plague your mind for the worse.

There was one night when he woke up, calling his old Master’s name. He sometimes dreamt of the way he died. He felt as though it was also his fault, that he could have prevented the Sith Lord Maul from destroying his only father figure.

It was all you could do, to sit with him, and try and calm his mind… but that night was harder. He had begun counting his failures as if they were stars, making them the only thing in the forefront of his mind, and rejecting anything that wasn’t his detrimental thoughts.

You sat with him until sunrise that day, but once the twin suns were over the dunes of everlasting sand, the day went on as normal. The small moments of grief and self loathing were forgotten.

It happened this way, only sometimes.

Something that brought you both peace on the bad days was going out to the hills and crests outside of the moisture farms specifically that being owned by Owen and Beru Lars. It would never be uttered aloud, for these thoughts brought on more episodes of sadness, but watching a small boy grow up in the sandy plains was always bittersweet. Though Luke wasn't a starpilot, or a jedi knight, or a cunning strategist... he reminded you so much of Anakin. You knew Anakin at this age, and all the years after. Even little gestures Luke sometimes made to his aunt and uncle, would send a pang of guilt through your chest. Anakin should be the one watching his son grow up. You all should be retired somewhere nice, like Naboo, with Padme watching over the twins as Anakin and Obi-Wan once again conversed like the brothers they used to be. Bittersweet, watching Luke learn to tend the farm like his uncle, instead of watching him play with his sister whom he knows nothing about.

Obi-Wan would never admit it either, but it was both healing and detrimental to observe Luke from a distance. He was closer to the boy's father than Owen ever was, and much more deserved the title of uncle... but it was not to be. Obi-Wan was a hunted man, and allowing Luke to be close to him could be dangerous.

Obi-Wan would bow his head sometimes after watching the boy, trying to make sense of how everything in his life could have lead to to this, and what could have possibly gone wrong that the galaxy was this bad. He could not even have a relationship with the son of his dearest friend.

Recently, he had delved into something of an addiction for him, something that was a grounding tool to help him realize he wasn’t going insane in these days of mundane work and internal chaos on this maker-forsaken planet. Others might see it as normal, but he had never been so insatiable before now. He craved one thing, constantly… you.

Whether it be through physical intimacy, or even small touches of your skin, he couldn’t get enough, and it was causing him to form strong habits that would not soon falter. You were of course all too happy to indulge him, as for a long time after you first came to these mountains, there was a block between you. The emotional force bond being broken disrupted many things, and that was one of them. You hoped sincerely that this was not just a rut he found himself in, and that it would only last so long. You’d missed the late nights, shared kisses and times of devotion to one another. He was such a gentle and skilled lover, anyone would have killed to know this side of him, but it was you he chose, again and again.

Though one half of the dyad was not felt in the force, he was still the love of your life, and you’d come to know him in a different way these past years. He was not necessarily a new person, but knowing him without the force, and without your constant ability of silent communication, he did become unfamiliar at times.

Still, he was Obi.

Always, he was Obi… even when everyone else used the name Ben, you would never give up the way you’d called upon him since you were but three years old. In public, he was just Ben Kenobi, who worked out in the dunes of Tatooine for a days wage… but in your eyes he was still the great protector of the republic, the General of the 212th legion, and a Master of the Jedi council. Obi-Wan Kenobi.

-

You were late again.

Not to work.

You didn’t tell Obi of your suspicions, feeling as though there could be a mixed reaction from whatever came of your condition, if you were indeed under the diagnosis you felt you were.

It had been ten years, and you were sure you’d retained internal damage that might prevent this outcome, but of course, the galaxy has seen far more impossible things come to fruition. Anakin’s mother conceived him without a man at all, so with the rate that your husband and yourself were going, it was almost bound to happen.

You left work earlier than usual, and gave an easy excuse to your employer as to why, and he of course was more than happy to oblige. You were a loyal and decent worker, so he never had any reason not to. There was a small clinic in Anchorhead, not as far advanced or technical as the one you were able to go to in Mos Eisley, but good enough that you would find out what you need to know, or what you were certain you already knew.

Being still deeply connected with the force, you were able to tell something was there, just like the first time, although now there was a slight difference that made you question it at first. Obi still had no idea, and how could he? You hadn’t let on to it at all and there wasn’t an ounce of strangeness to your behavior. Throw in the fact that he can no longer sense those kind of things, and you have a completely oblivious husband.

The medical droid who tended to you was outdated, but even with old mechanisms and past due needed upgrades, it deducted your symptoms to a diagnosis rather quickly.

You were eleven weeks pregnant, no doubt about it after some quick testing.

Though you were nervous of what this could mean for you, it was far more of a joy. You never thought this would be possible again, given the circumstances of the last time leaving you with injuries that should have made you completely unable to reproduce.

You were so excited as you went back into work, reeling from the information, and trying to think of ways to tell the father of this child that he was in-fact getting another chance at his dream. It wasn’t how you both had planned. You’d wanted to settle down amongst your friends, on a beautiful planet like Naboo. You had hoped for the freedom of the galaxy to give you the opportunities of a peaceful existence. Instead, you were stuck here, on Tatooine. The ugliest planet in the outer rim and much worse than you remember it from your first visit all those years ago. It was all for a reason, of course. Obi-Wan was a wanted man, in nearly every system there was a bounty on his head, with more than enough hunters out searching for him to bring his body dead or alive to the empire. You, of course, being legally dead and all, could go anywhere you wanted… but without him you saw little point in traveling away.

This child would mend the broken dreams you both had for the future, you were sure of it.

You went back about your work with a gleeful smile adorning your face, being extra friendly to patrons and even giving them a little extra for their buck. You couldn’t help the joy, it was too strong to keep bottled up for later. You were sure, though, it would still remain long into the day, and all the others after.

You’d been cleaning out a glass behind the counter when it happened. A group of robbers from out in Mos Eisley came rushing in, holding everyone at blaster point and shouting for them to get down. You grabbed a knife from the nearby drawer, trying to strategize through the force how to deescalate the situation without hurting anyone. Your skills were just the slightest bit rusty, even though you practiced whenever you got the chance. A knife wasn’t exactly your weapon of choice.

The leader of the group stepped forward to the owner of the bar, and told him to empty the credit holds into his sack, but the owner hesitated, turning your way as if asking what he should do. You started taking quick steps towards him, pushing him out of the line of the blaster before it could go off. You waited for them to start shooting, but instead heard the ignition of a lightsaber. Or at least, it sounded a hell of a lot like one.

You jumped to your feet, watching over the counter as the scene played out. There was a man, around your age, wielding a lightsaber to defeat the robbers. They all went down pretty quickly, except one whom the man didn’t see behind him. You called for him to watch out, but he didn’t have enough time to react, so you raised your hand, focusing all your force energy on throwing the last enemy to the wall before he hit the ground.

He turned to you, eyes wide and saber still ignited.

“Did you just-?” He narrowed his eyes in your direction, and something seemed to click in his head.

Nobody else had seen you do that, but him seeing it was enough.

The bar rang with cheers and clapping in applause for the Jedi, who had saved the people in the establishment from being harmed by the robbery. They all commended him, and you had half a mind to forget it ever happened, just go back to work, but the man was keen on speaking with you. Even after the owner, and your boss, had spent a rather long time thanking him and offering him solace in the place, he wouldn’t be done until he’d had a word.

You were mixing up celebratory drinks for a few patrons when he finally was able to corner you, standing over the bar and keeping his voice down.

“I know who you are,” he said softly, as if trying not to spook you away. Most Jedi were like rare animals nowadays. Almost extinct, and completely vulnerable to sudden attack.

You set the glasses onto a tray and made eye contact with him for a single second, sending a glare his way before you went out to the tables and served the drinks around. He stayed and waited at the bar, and when you came back he sighed out.

“I know this must be hard, but I haven’t seen another Jedi in so long,” he rambled, all under the guise of a whisper, of course. You wouldn’t lie, as much as you feared the empire for everything it has taken from you, it was almost a breath of fresh air to see there were others, who hadn’t been stomped out by their evil yet.

“I was never a Jedi,” you said, but ultimately, you knew, no matter what you said, he knew who you were. As strange as it sounds, being the padawan of a famous Jedi came with some sort of notoriety. “You’ve got the wrong person.”

“I know that it’s you, because you’re supposed to be dead,” he had seen your name on the list of the deceased Jedi, along with his own name on the list of hunted ones.

“I am dead.”

He isn’t sure what he was expecting you to say, maybe that you’d been like him, hiding for the last ten years and hoping that there would come a time when Jedi could arise again. But that wasn’t realistic. As long as the empire held rule over the galaxy, there could never be peace and freedom. Not for your kind, anyway.

“And I’m not coming back,” you added ominously, cleaning out the glasses that had just been set on the counter for you to deal with.

He stayed silent a few moments, but didn’t leave. Even if you didn’t speak to him, you understood why he lingered. The only Jedi you have in your life anymore is Obi-Wan, but he’s cut himself off from the force. There is no familiarity of what was. This man is probably on his own, and has been all this time. He craves the sense of normalcy your presence is probably bringing right now. Perhaps you crave it too, and maybe it’s the reason you don’t shoo him away.

“He’s here too, isn’t he?” He asked after a while.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” you weren’t doing yourself any favors in gaslighting this poor man, but you’d built yourself a wall of protection, and it wasn’t going to come down so easily.

“You were inseparable,” he recalls, and he knows you understand him, and that you’re just being standoff-ish. “I always wished to have that relationship with my Master.”

“Believe me, the relationship was far different from what everyone assumed it to be,” You let out sarcastically, finally being able to let your guard down a bit, but only enough that you could interact with him in a way that wasn’t stingy. You’d keep all current details hidden. He wanted to rehash the past? Fine, you could give him that.

“What it ended up as isn’t any of my business, but from what I could tell, the laws of attachment didn’t exactly apply.”

You huffed out a breath, followed by a drawn out ‘Nope.’

You thoughts shifted a bit, to just how poorly you followed the rules. You’re carrying the man’s child for force’s sake. You were never much one for the laws of attachment.

The man before you had a dumbfounded face on, and you mentally slapped yourself. You hadn’t been guarding your thoughts. You haven’t had to in so long and before you realized you needed you, it all just slipped into the open air.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered, bowing his head as if he’d been the one to provoke you. In actuality, you’d pretty much offered it all up freely for him to take, and you didn’t even know what to do about it.

“Don’t be, it’s my fault… it’s just-“

“Been a long time?” He guessed, and you nodded in agreement. “I understand.”

And now a complete stranger knew some very personal things. Perhaps he wasn’t stranger, though. He knew you, and Obi-Wan, and remembered the order from its glory days. You both had a sense of shared trauma that somehow bonded you without ever speaking a word to each other before.

“How did you recognize me?” You asked him after another bout of silence. You were drying off the dishes, and figured that as long as he was here, you would make the most of it. This clearly wasn’t an everyday occurrence. “I’m almost certain I’ve never met you up close before.”

He smiled, nodding to your hair, swept back into a style you’d become fond of lately. “Never met you, but I’d seen you around. You were rather well known among the order.”

“Guess those are the perks of being his padawan, huh?” You’d echoed your thoughts from earlier, and he chuckled.

“He was the person that everyone wanted to be. Not just a great Jedi, but a good man.”

Of course. You knew that better than anyone. He cared so deeply about everything he set his hand to. He was kind and gentle, though sometimes sarcastic and witty, but that too made him more likable in your eyes.

“He’s not changed in that aspect,” you let him know, and he took it as motive to tease you.

“I knew he’d be here,” he returned, and you looked up and laughed a bit. He’d caught you there. “He’d never left your side.”

You didn’t respond, just let that statement sink in. You guessed that many more Jedi in the order had perceived your relationship for what it really was, but never said anything. Maybe they were rooting for you, or maybe you gave them hope. It was all up for interpretation, but the one thing you could never deny was the realness in it. He’s never left your side, and he never will. Of that, you can be absolutely sure and certain.

When it was time to close up the bar that night, you’d left before the owner, making sure he was alright after the fiasco of the day. You passed your new and unlikely friend the Jedi on the way out as well, giving a simple nod that spoke more than just words. You knew he needed to talk with you, and as much as you will neglect to admit it, you needed to talk to him, too.

You found yourself at the stables before sundown, meeting with Obi by your shared Eopie, ready to go home.

You figured that the bundle of joy news could wait until things were a bit more settled. You didn’t know how the scene of today would go in the long run, or if imperials had been alerted, but you wanted to know about all of that before trying to make future plans for the child you were carrying.

He saw you enter the sectional, and smiled to you with that adoring look in his eye, the one that never faded.

“You won’t believe what happened today.”

-

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[ghostofskywalker]

Truth Serum Isn't Real ...Oh Wait Kriff

Obi-Wan Kenobi/Fem!Reader

Fictober Day 17 of 31

Words: 1,154

Summary: After being captured by Dooku and completely under the influence of something you were injected with, some confessions (of the love variety) were made to your best friend.

Obi-Wan Kenobi Masterlist

Okay, the restraints around your wrists were really starting to get uncomfortable, and you were a little annoyed about it. Count Dooku was incredibly rich and currently had the unconditional backing of several wealthy and important systems who believed in the Separatist cause, and he couldn’t spring for slightly nicer cuffs? Come on.

And speaking of the ex-Jedi, he was standing across the room from you, glaring imposingly towards the doorway. Someone had walked in and injected you with some kind of clear liquid, and according to Dooku himself, 10 minutes needed to pass before whatever it was would take effect. You had been assured that it wasn’t poison, though if you were being completely honest you really didn’t believe them.

The grand separatist flagship was currently floating just outside the atmosphere of some Mid-Rim planet, and you were desperately hoping that one of your fellow Jedi would burst in to help at any moment. You had been outnumbered from the moment you made contact with the army, and even though you fought valiantly, Dooku’s power eventually took hold. The battalion of men under your command managed to get away, and you explicitly told your commander to leave you behind, because you knew it was the only way. He would certainly go back to the Jedi Council for help, and you just hoped that there would be someone available to do that.

Whatever you had just been injected with was starting to make you sleepy, and it would take a lot more energy than you currently had to be able to keep them open. As you felt your eyes close, you tried to reach out to your fellow Jedi through the Force, a last-ditch attempt to call for help. There was nothing you could do now, and you just hoped that you had not been forgotten.

***

It wasn’t until the ship entered hyperspace again did you open your eyes, and Obi-Wan could immediately tell that something was wrong. After receiving a distressed communication from Commander Grave, Obi-Wan had immediately jumped into action, and Anakin along with him. Together they cut through the swaths of droids on the ship and took on Dooku himself in combat, and Obi-Wan wondered if his former padawan knew the true reason why he was so worried.

You had been his best friend for as long as he could remember, and you helped train Anakin when he felt out of his depths, despite the fact that you were brand new to all of those experiences as well. His former padawan knew that you and Obi-Wan were close, and he knew that Anakin felt a familial bond towards you, but what he had never been able to admit was that the way he felt about you was not entirely platonic.

He had tried to keep his face even when the holo image of Grave appeared, and he began to explain what had happened. Obi-Wan tried to remain level-headed, but at the same time he didn’t care about protocol and procedure when your life was at stake. Anakin was thankfully on board with dropping temporarily pausing the assignment from the Senate to find and rescue you. They had met up with your troops, who were just as worried about you, and gave everything they had to help the two Jedi rescue you.

Your eyes, usually bright and inquisitive, now had a glazed look to them, and they fluttered open and closed at a concerning rate. Obi-Wan stepped closer to you, gently murmuring your name as to not scare you before you realized what was going on.

You let out an unusual noise, something that could only be described by Obi-Wan as the cross between a whine and a groan. “What happened to you?” he asked, wondering if you had any injuries he couldn’t see.

“Dooku,” you said, half whispering.

Obi-Wan felt like his blood began to boil, and he felt himself think some very un-Jedi like thoughts. “What did he do?”

“Heeeeeee-” you took a pause after holding out the word. “-injected me with some stuff that they said would take 10 minutes.” Your speech was definitely slurred, and to the untrained eye (or to someone who didn’t know the situation), it looked like you were incredibly drunk. “I thought I heard something about truth ser-”

“Truth serum?” Obi-Wan cut in.

“Yeahhhhhhh,” you said, at this point totally unaware of anything going on. Obi-Wan wondered if you even knew where you were or who you were talking to. “I don’t believe in that osik usually, but I think Obi-Wan does. I’ll have to ask him what he thinks, but I just have to be careful that I don’t tell him I love him.”

Well, that answered his question about whether or not you knew who you were talking to.

Obi-Wan’s brain stopped working right then and there, and he didn’t know what to say. That didn’t matter though, because it seemed like you didn’t register the fact that he hadn’t responded. “It’d be soooooooo awkward,” you babbled, staring up at the roof of the ship. “But the Jedi Code comes first, and I guess that’s how it will always have t-”

You passed out instantly, and seconds later the sound of soft snores filled the small area.

Obi-Wan was unable to stop his mind from racing as he walked back to the cockpit of the ship, where Anakin was staring out at the blue streaks of hyperspace as they passed by. “How is she?” he asked.

“She’ll be alright.” That didn’t seem like it truly could explain what just happened, but what was Obi-Wan going to say? He hoped that Anakin hadn’t heard anything, but he also didn’t want to actually ask him if he had. Anakin’s answer would be nothing but that Obi-Wan should talk to you, but he wasn’t sure if he had the strength to do that yet.

“That’s good.”

Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief, because it didn’t seem that Anakin was aware of the confession that just took place, albeit that it was one aided by something of Dooku’s creation, that addled your mind to the point of inebriation.

But of course, that relief was short lived.

As they touched down on Coruscant, and Jedi healers rushed in to move you somewhere safer, Anakin looked at his former master with a glint of mischief in his eye. “You know, you should probably tell her that you feel the same way when she wakes up,” he said as he stepped off the ramp of the ship.

“What are you talking about?” Obi-Wan sputtered, but Anakin was already out of earshot, clearly not waiting for a response as he hurried to catch up with Commander Grave.

There was no use trying to deny things at this point, and he knew that his former padawan was right. Now it was just a matter of overcoming his own worries and doubts.  

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[buckyarchives]

MODERN OBI-WAN KENOBI BOYF HC

I haven’t ever done a head cannon post but with how busy / lazy I’ve been I might post more of these, they’re a lot of fun. probably one for Bucky and Luke skywalker. If you want any other characters just lmk! Make sure to check my request post!

warning: nsfw content (labeled so if you want to skip you totally can)

tea guy, like, it’s crazy. has so many drawers full of boxes and bags. always making you tea to fit whatever mood you’re in

landscaper or teacher, or both. I imagine him teaching younger kids but probably wishes to be a professor of some sort, maybe teaching environmental science.

just really likes plants and flowers but sometimes gets tired of having to craft and trim everything to be perfect so he thoroughly enjoys natural nature and the “overgrown’ aesthetic

Adding onto that, loves to hike, always takes you with and nerds out about the scenery and views.

definitely fosters dogs from the local shelter and takes them on hikes to help leash train them.

unintentionally a pretentious little prick

circle lens glasses and turtle neck combo 24/7

And of course you steal his sweaters ALL THE TIME

Smells like citrus, grass and rain. the warm sun rays and vanilla

Always watching some documentary, or the history channel.

All your friends lowkey want him because he’s. That Guy.

Whenever he blushes it goes straight to his nose, ears and neck.

Frequent at most coffee shops in town so when he started to bring you around it was a big deal for the workers lol, so much gossip. And mild disappointment from the staff knowing obi wan was official taken

Probably hates small talk, finds it tedious and shallow

The most supportive boyfriend in the world, he’s always the first person there to cheer you on

When you started dating him, his cousin/best friend, Anakin, came as a packaged deal. The younger one frequently trailing behind obi wan and now, as you’ve got too closer, you as he’s become a younger brother figure to you.

Not jealous at all, he’s very secure in your relationship and his trust in you is crazy strong. finds it quite amusing when men hit on you in front of him and kinda just lets you play it out.

That is unless you become uncomfortable, he mostly lets you stand up for yourself but if it becomes overbearing he definitely won’t hesitate to cause a small scene.

A big runner and boxer, you’re used to having to help his knuckles heal up from long sessions. As well as joining him on early morning runs if he can get you up and out of bed for it.

He loves art and mostly drew and painted landscapes but after meeting you this sketch book began to fill of pictures of you from every angle possible.

So naturally put together all the time it makes you insecure sometimes

Obviously, obi wan is the best at easing those insecurities. He always notices when you’re feeling off, sometimes even before yourself, so quick to embrace you and whisper exactly what you need to hear.

Another thing, so good with his words??? He always tell you what you need to hear, there’s rarely ever any miscommunication between the two of you because of this and even when they’re are, arguments are not common.

Crazy sarcastic, will say the funniest shit ever with the most monotone face and it just makes it 100% times funnier.

Really likes Taylor swift and David Bowie

Always getting you bouquets of flowers, even arranges them himself sometimes.

“This reminded me of you.”

Such a safe and non-judgemental aura, you’d struggle with asking for help or learning new / seemingly ‘common sense’ things with past relationships in fear of seeming dumb but you feel so safe around obi-wan that those thoughts never cross your mind, always learning new things from him and enjoying how helpful and supportive he is.

Definitely an impala driver, either 40s Chevy impala or the very sleek and fancy 2020 impala premier, probably black and rarely dirty

Not the biggest cuddler in the world but really enjoys naps together, will drape an arm over you but he tends to move around in his sleep so he’s just content with sleeping besides you rather than wrapping limbs

But when he is in the mood to cuddle, it’s mostly on the couch when you decides to binge shitty reality television. He’s usually on his back and you’re laying ontop of his stomach with your ear to his chest

You two constantly binge dating reality shows, always criticizing the other couple and mostly men LOL.

“He did not just say that! Maker, you would have broke up with me then and there.” “Damn right I would.”

You trace all the moles and freckles along his body, obi wan definitely had a skin care routine and moisturizes so I imagine his skin is always so soft

NSFW!

really likes nudes, like the grainy MacBook camera pictures with a matching cute set type nudes (iykyk). Hot and slightly artistic, his favorite.

Doesn’t like porn though, never enjoyed it and it never really got him off, doesn’t like the morals of it either

Also sexting, not his thing. He’s usually more on the serious end when it comes to intimacy but he cannot take sexting seriously LMAOO

lowkey the type to come home from a long day of work and look you in the eye with That Look and you just know what he needs

Thigh guy, the type to take breaks from eating you out by just resting his head fully on your inner thigh and just gaze up at you

Sir / master kink

Will jokingly come up behind you when you’re in the kitchen or something and press his groin to your behind

Just a little tease overall, always doing shit like that and acting all innocent about it

VERY VERY vocal during sex (cough, cough, shallow graves ending scene, COUGH)

[generalkenobee]

Hello lovely! Two things: 1. GOOD LUCK SHIFTING I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT. 2. Might I send in a little request? If so; Obi-Wan and Reader are both Jedi masters on the council. They just so happen to be trying to meditate together when they begin reading each other's thoughts on accident... smut ensues?

Whether you do this request or not, just know I appreciate you and everything you create -🦇 anon

Your thoughts are extremely loud

Omgggg-

I have the biggest thing for mind reading-

You're literally the sweetest

Warnings: SMUT, inappropriate use of the force, language, pnv penetration, FEM! reader, let me know if I missed anything 🩷

Obi Wan sat across from you, his breathing was level, his face was relaxed, and his thoughts we concentrated. You knew this because every once in a while you would peek your eyes open and look over to him.

"(Y/N)" he said when you opened your eyes to peek at him "sorry.." you let out a sigh. meditation was your thing! You were always so content and focused however ,you'd never done it with another member of the council

"something bothering you?" Obi Wan questioned with his eyes still closed

You've learned from past experiences that it's better to be honest with your peers, that's the Jedi way "it's just that I'm having a hard time.. relaxing I guess?"

"be cautious of your thoughts (Y/N), just because I'm here doesn't mean you can't meditate" how did he know that?

"Obi Wan! What have I told you about getting in my head? I have private things in there" You opened your eyes completely and stood up. You weren't actually that upset, more scared that he would find your hidden fantasies.

"I'm gonna go train. Meditation isn't working.. maybe swinging a lightsaber around will"

---

You faced the large rock with your ignited saber in hand thinking about what you wanted to do. You went with sokan, sokan was developed by Jedi during the great sith war..it felt right.

The glow of your (L/C) saber grazed over the rock before you yelled and ran at it with full five attacking

"Y/N), I know you're having the time of your life slashing the holy hell out of that rock, and also- why a rock? You have PLENTY of sparring partners in there"

You rolled your eyes "I need to be alone" and you did. You needed to think about all of your emotions, because you didn't want to love obi wan, you just wanted to make a legacy, a change, help people. Falling in love wasn't helpful for a jedi.

"you know talking about things like this can help"

"you don't know what's wrong so how could you help, you don't know what I think about"

"actually I do" obi wan walked over to you and you pressed the small red button on your saber to retract the blade.

"what are you talking about?"

"oh maker I want to get dicked down by him so bad right now, like for real-"

Obi Wan had said to you exactly what you thought while meditating earlier "Obi Wan.."

"I would let him do anything to me" he looked down to you and smirked "your thoughts are extremely loud"

---

The big chrome door slid shut while Obi Wan pushed you down to his bed. Your hands immediately flew up to your robes sliding them off while he did the same

"Obi Wan please.." that was all he needed to use the force. He slightly drew a long stripe from where his cock was slamming into you up to your sensitive clit

"let me in honey" and you did. Whenever a force user has sex it's amazing..you felt like Obi Wan was a part of you and you felt as you were a part of him. "Shit, s'so tight..I'm gonna" you looked up at Obi Wan with pleading eyes "m-me too..."

I KNOW THE SMUT WAS SHIRT BUT I HAVEN'T WRITTEN AN ACTUAL STORY IN A WHILE😭

[the-abyss-of-fandoms]

I'd be a terrible Jedi.... You're telling me that they were supposed to not have feelings of attachment and yet there were these men walking around the Jedi Temple:

Me internally if either of them looked in my direction:

[uyuartik]

bad idea, right? (obi wan kenobi x f!reader) part ii

tags: same as before except more unhinged, (slightly sith coded obi wan, no use of y/n, my unhinged take on regency era, (blaming bridgerton and pride and prejudice), probably historical inaccuracies, SMUT), idiots in love, friends with benefits though it is more than that, oral sex (fem and male receiving), fingering, piv sex, overstimulation, thigh riding, dom!obi?, ANGST AT SOME POINT(S), tension so high that they should be on medication, me shortening every uncle-in-law phrase to uncle bcs english sucks in family terms, overuse of commas because editing 42 pages is hard

a/n: HELLO AGAIN, thank you all so much for all the love you've shown, i couldn't be more grateful. sorry for the *long* wait, i just thought the story needed a little longer than a week to do its trick, and frankly i am a busy person so 7 day gap wouldn't work for me. but i hope you can forgive me with this beast of a chapter, it is my first time writing such a long one. hope you enjoy it, and see you all again soon!

also not so fun fact: i totally misunderstood the "season", thinking it should be around summer- early autumn but it was the other way around, sorry, all the historical babes (i can no longer call myself that) for the frustration. but this timetable suits this story much better, does it not?

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, and i can't wait to hear your opinions! i am also crossposting on ao3, feel free to interact there as well.

part one | part two | part three

enjoy!!!

word count: 19.7K

chapter two: it's a bad idea, right?

The morning or to be exact, the noon, is when you finally feel refreshed, ready for the challenges of the day. Lucky, because your relatives are more than understanding, has always been. They would scold you for going about your day as a ghost rather than miss breakfast or join only halfway to their other activities. You always try to honor their kindness, not to take advantage of the privileges as a guest, and do your best to spend time with your cousin Carolina, (The young girl has all the benefits of her young age, full of energy and excitement, fascinated by the stories she hears (from you, mostly)), and also avoid bringing a man into your room under their roof and absolutely ravaging each other-

The last one is an exception, which you are not proud of, yet not a single drop of guilt muddies your soul. None, considering the enjoyment or strengthened bonds.

Speaking of it, something tells you that you'd have been late anyways if you woke up early, thanks to him. There's indeed a mark on the side of your neck, just where it meets your shoulder. Also, your thighs share the same fate, though lightly, a few small bruises and red, irritated areas thanks to his neat beard. Thankfully, they're quite hidden except the one that's not that has you cursing at him. For how good it felt, and for his daredevil nature. 

You're scared to admit your fear for your future with him, not in the romantic expectations aspect, you would never, but for the simpler stuff like how are you going to look at his face and not be reminded of its presence between your legs. Or the unending tease he’ll become, even more so than usual, rightfully so. Make no mistake, you had pretty high expectations, and an overall picture of your relationships past it. Yet, last night was its own entity, reducing you to a mess in the most beautiful way, plucking every thought from your mind, yet dropping seeds of doubt like this.

Still, there’s a foolish smile on your face, and some soreness in between your legs, a welcomed ache.

Nonetheless, you’re not sure how to react when you descend the stairs, and he’s there, sharing tea with your aunt and uncle.

Obi Wan stands up in a blink, even before your aunt has the chance to react to your entry.

“Oh, here you are, sweetie! Just in time to join us in the gardens, and look, who’s here!”

“Hello, auntie. Uncle.” For what’s worth, you like being here, with them, and nothing changes that. You can feel the adamantine warm cloud of love in your chest. The reason you never doubted coming here.

“Lord Kenobi.” You greet him as well, though not with that big smile and sincerity you’ve just shown.

“My Lady.” His indifferent tone is interesting. Indifferent, yet indifferent as any other time, respectful and overly sympathetic. Maybe the situation isn’t as bad as you think? Yet, he’s here, isn’t he? His very presence is questionable enough.

“How good of the young man to join us, don’t you think? Though I fear it’s only due to work issues, and not out of courtesy.”

Yes, how good! And definitely not out of courtesy.

“You hurt me, Madam.” He objects, frowning his brows. “I must say this house, with its amiable hosts, has always had a great place in my heart. Last night once again proved it right, it was the best ball I’ve ever been to all summer. In fact, I was thinking of learning your contacts for the band and the cook, you inspired me to throw my own.”

You really, really try to not roll your eyes, and drop the tea that’s being offered to you now.

“Oh, no problem at all! I’ll write them down when we finish the paperwork in my study.” Your uncle says, and the absolute charmed look and excitation in his eyes have your stomach sinking. “And how are you, my dear? Haven’t you shaken out the morning chill yet?” He points to your shawl, wrapped tightly around your neck. You powdered the marks, and put on a big necklace, but then decided you couldn’t be too careful, and put on the fabric too.

“Yes, I think the weather change wasn’t quite easy on me this time.” You reach for the honey, making a show of it so they don’t put you in the center of attention.

“Did you sleep well last night?”So, it doesn’t work. And that’s about the one question you hoped to avoid.

“Despite the exertion taking place-“ Kenobi’s eyes widen, exaggerated by the teacup basically covering other parts of his face, and for a second you think he may choke on his tea. “downstairs, I say it was the best sleep I could’ve ever had.”

You hope your acting inspires the same in him too. He suppresses that little cough well, and the blush settling in his cheeks is faint, easily blamed on the warmth of the drink.

Strike one.

Irritation grows in you, rather than anxiety. Does he really think you’re that crude? That dumb? You make a point of not looking his way after that, an attitude clearly noticed by him in no time. It’s not like he has any chance of talking about it, but the alarm bell in his head rings continuously, busying his mind ‘til the opportune moment comes to talk about it.

Then, a gleeful screech of your name fills the room. In a blink, your cousin is right next to you, wrapping her arms tightly around your shoulder that you can’t properly stand up and hug her back in a normal way.

“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up all day long!” She says, hands reaching to hold yours, almost causing you to lose control of the fabric covering your neck. “We’ve got so much to do! And you were going to tell me all about Naboo! Did you really get to see the lions?”

“Sweetie-“ Despite the wildness of the affection you are given, there’s a huge smile on your face, and you almost make her sit on your lap- an old habit from her younger years.

“Come now- you promised to go riding with me. I want to show you how much I improved.”

“Well-“ your poor, poor legs are in no condition for that kind of activity. “I think it’s best if we do that tomorrow. You see, I had enough of it yesterday, I’ve been in a carriage all day.”

His smirking, twinkling eyes.

Strike two.

Your furious gaze kills that gleam quickly though. The faint smirk disappears, and he straightens his back, clearing his throat.

“Carolina, can’t you see we have a guest? Where are your manners? And give your poor cousin some space, for God’s sake!” Your aunt exaggerates like any mother of her generation, that high pitched voice screeching every ear in the room.

You should be glad to see the subject changed, but the condition of it is bitter. She bows her head down, taking a few steps away from you, but you hold onto her hand, keeping her near.

“Hello, young lady. I am Obi Wan Kenobi.” He sounds- sympathetic, though not overly. It is this sweet balance between respecting their being without the prejudices of age, but compassionate enough not to crush them under expectations they are yet to achieve. Interpreting this from just a couple of words seems a bit of a stretch, you know, still, his whole attitude screams he’s got some experience talking to kids, or considerable knowledge about the human psyche.

“He’s a friend of mine.” You explain further, trying to ease her.

“Welcome, Lord Kenobi.” She curtsies, yeah, she’s perfected that, you observe with proud eyes.

“I didn’t see you at the ball last night, I’m afraid.” Like he was there longer than an hour.

“It was past my bedtime.” The look she gives her parents tells him all he needs to know about her character, or precisely who influences her. He wonders if it was any similar to yours.  “I hope you had a wonderful time. You must’ve, because she’s an excellent dancer.” She turns at you, smiling so innocently that you can’t blame her for complicating things. “She taught me all about it, even better than my tutors.”

“Oh, no, we didn’t-“ The sentence synchronically rolls from both of your tongues, but you stop as you realize. There’s an abrupt silence in the room for a few seconds, causing anger to bubble up in you once more, and forcing you to make up an excuse to break free from this atmosphere.

“Hey,” You tug on her arm, “I’ve brought candy.” And just like that, she’s jumping all over you, bouncing with joy, “Sshh,” You warn. “First we need to go somewhere unseen.”

===

You see him again, days after, when he’s clearly learned his lesson, and gave you a window to breathe, calm your fury. The worst thing? It works. You can imagine (or in other words daydream) the next time you two see each other, which you desperately wish for it to be soon, and picture keeping yourself from stepping onto his feet, or shoving your finger into his chest. It all could not be forgotten but worked out through little warnings and explanations. Communication, basically.

And it turns out, you don't have to imagine any longer, and have the perfect opportunity to test your temper.

In a cafe. Where you sit alone. Blissfully ignorant of the couples (or to-be-couples) surrounding you. But most importantly, unchaperoned. (You had your tongue to defy any unwanted presence, and it's not like people came here alone like yourself. They came here for dates. And if anything, your presence was a litmus paper. What was to happen in marriage, if one couldn’t even keep their eyes from others in those little flirtatious rendezvous?)

(Though you knew some didn’t see it that way. A temptress, their choice of word to describe you.)

Obi Wan walks up to your table in quick, big steps that somehow don’t capture the attention of anyone but you. A further proof of that magic dust he sprinkles.  He’s dressed in browns today. It is a welcomed change. The smile on his face is unbeatably prominent, even as he follows the guide of manners, bowing his head and removing his hat before he sits in front of you. There’s no indication of his previous whereabouts in his looks and you wonder how he found you. Was he simply passing by the establishment before noticing your presence, or did he inquire about your engagements today, asking around?

"You shouldn't be here." It’s that sweet tone of yours, an alarm said in the softest of inclinations. “I have no company.” While it is redundant to both of your mindsets, the need of a chaperone for every conversation you have with strangers, you like to be cautious.

Then let me be it, he would’ve said, if it wasn’t literally the first time after your distasteful encounter. He’s not going to throw away that lesson for a shot of comedy. Or the fact that it’s hardly a request, but again- It’s not worth it. “I just wanted to say how sorry I was for the last time. It was- unadvisable to say the least.”

That- feels so good to hear, somehow. Far better than expected. You lean back in your chair, a sly smile on your face that you can’t help, and a subtle blush, a total contrast to your attitude.

“What can I say though? I don’t know if it’s still possible to be unsatisfied, but I sure felt like that if I didn’t see you again.”

Your fingers grasp the fork far too tightly, considering you have no appetite left for the desert in front of you. It’s the flashbacks from that night, and the undeniable effects it had on both of you.  

“Well, apology accepted.” 

He releases a breath after your words, visibly relaxed, amusing you further. You focus your gaze on the plate, in hopes of blending this conversation into the atmosphere around. 

You add. “Then again, don’t take my forgiveness for granted. None of my partners were this careless, and I seriously expected better from you.” 

(You're quite aware this is not the sort of conversation fit here.)

The interruption of “Oh, that will never even cross my mind.”, turns into “Partners?”, thankfully in a whisper, but sharp enough that it holds the same value as a shriek. He plays it off like it’s a frivolous question, a part of your ongoing banter, a mere thread to spin the conversation.

As if you gave the perfect impression of a blushing virgin that night. You flutter your lashes, as you take a bite. The silence is absolutely deafening, before you can continue. “There’s a reason I like traveling that much. Naboo. Correlia. Alderaan. God, even Hoth.” The discomfort in his face grows, and you fight it with an explanation, hoping that’s the reason. “Never at the same time, though, if it wasn’t obvious. It was just about having good company if I was to spend months in a city.”

“Yes, yes of course.” He shakes his head, an act of his nonjudgemental nature. “So, am I the Coruscant part of your little play?”

“No. You're the exception.” You laugh. “I haven’t- not here. I wouldn’t dare. Too little privacy. No trust. Above all, not a single soul that felt like a match of my own. Til I met you.” He deserves to hear that, right? “However I must say, the rules would be a little different here. Requires more caution. Fine work. For example, you couldn’t come and see me like this whenever you desire."

"Fair enough." He agrees, though makes little effort to follow the lesson. Actually, not even little, none. He just sits there, moulding into his chair further, a pleasant grin as he takes the world in, entertaining himself with the surrounding people. And you, of course. His piercing gaze travels back to you, every time.

Well, right. Not like you wanted him off of your table. "What do you want, Lord Kenobi?" And how did you know I would be here anyway? 

"Are you coming to the picnic on Saturday, in the Perlemian Park?"

You were certainly thinking about it. "Possibly."

"I'm only going if you are joining too." He wets his lips, an action you don't miss, and you continue to watch it long after he's done and see the next words coming out, before your brain can comprehend their meaning. "So, I'll need a better answer." 

The same lips that mapped out your entire body, whispered all those dirty things, tasted your hidden corners, drinking in the pleasure it provided…

He clears his throat, and you break out of the trance. He looks at you with a brow lifted, but the twinkles behind his blue eyes tell you it's not out of boredom. More like the exact opposite. 

"I'll be there." 

This is his cue to leave, with excitement for the said event, and a tinge of sadness for this interaction ending. You mirror his manners as he bids you a good day. 

Then, you're left alone, exactly as merely half an hour ago. Yet, the dessert in front of you is unsavory, nowhere near enough to satisfy your sweet tooth.  

It is still completely the same.

=== 

Comes Saturday, and does it come slower than possible… The weather seems like it's making one last show before the summer ends and scorches the earth, leaving everyone a sweating mess, little to no words coming out of their mouth, sprawled on the nearest surface. You seriously debate whether calling the offer off, the choice of fanning yourself to a lazy nap sounding better and better. It is in these extensive relaxations that you uncover the horrid truth- your fingers fell short in bringing you pleasure now, making you an even more sweaty, frustrated mess rather than the relaxed, drowsy mess you want to be. It is an awful revelation, bringing along many questions that haunt your every waking hour. You fear it's got something to do with him- and the best prescription for you is to stay away.

Alas, you keep true to your promise and show up. 

Thankfully the air has calmed down on said day, and sorbets are refreshing, making it more than a bearable experience. Bearable is actually an insult in this case, for it is more than that. These people are some of your oldest friends, close to your age, and share your opinions. It is hard not having fun when you are allowed to be free (just a little more than normal, though it is enough). None cares about the obscene gossip, or juices of fruit staining faces, dripping onto the expensive fabrics you all are adorned in. Laughs are loud and constant, never letting three minutes go without them. Hands are all flying around, hitting each other as a joke, reaching for the last piece of cake, taking the very dangerous road back without spilling a drop of the drink (which is, once again, a target of pranks).

Obi Wan enjoys it as much as you do, despite the fact that he doesn’t know them like you do. His life doesn’t allow much leisure time, and his choice of friends is mostly unfitting to these kinds of events, but he doesn’t have a problem finding joy in these kinds of events. Maybe it is mostly due to you, watching you in your nature, admiring the way you handle yourself among the crossfire of jokes, or what foods you prefer the most, making silly expressions as the taste of them hits just right. With every little thing he learns about you, he’s drawn closer to you. Once, he would name you a mystery, yet that would indicate the thrill was all in revelation. Now, it is the exact opposite. He gets more excited with each new question, like what is the actual story behind the “donkey joke” you are hinting at, or why do you pick some of the seemingly perfectly looking strawberries aside and pick others- or why you blush when you catch him looking at you, only to do the same yourself?

It is only in the afternoon that the buzz leaves its place for something serene. Conversations diminish, replies take longer, bodies sag and lean on the nearest surface, be the tree trunks or picnic baskets or their loved ones.

C’mon then, let’s take a walk. One proposes, and others follow, albeit slowly and with protests. You are among the latter, every cell in your body refusing to produce or use energy.

Maybe that’s one of the reasons you end up at the very back of the group with Lord Kenobi, and while you manage to stick with him unlike your friends, the distance between you and them grows and now, you can safely say that you’ve lost the sight of them. Twenty minutes ago.

So yes, you’ve been walking alongside him in silence. Far away that you don’t brush hands, yet so close that it would raise questions if someone were to see.

“I don’t think this is doing much for my somnolence.” He basically yawns.

"Should I take that as an insult, my Lord?" 

"Why would you- what did I say to make you think so?" He shakes his head, as stubborn as he's apologetic, ready to accept the accusation if your reasons are firm. Still, his heart is already pacing up, distressed. That must be the wine taking over.

"Well, am I not the only reason for your presence? And I must be boring you, if you are still feeling drowsy." 

"No- Absolutely untrue- “ He stutters, a panic to find the right words, not to be buried under your claims, he is not going to lose his chance to be by your side- only to realize the grin on your face too late.

"You little minx." He breathes out, and is rewarded by the sound of your tempting giggle. 

"Seems like I successfully rid you of your problem." You take pride. "And now, I suggest walking by the lake, to ensure its permeance."

"You mean to dip my feet in the water?" Again, he shakes his head, already rejecting the proposition.

"If you don't do it I shall." You skip, prancing like a nymph before he grabs you by the arm. 

“I don’t think that is safe.”

“It perfectly is.” You state, bewildered by his anxious urge. One look into his hand, and he remembers to let you go. The said hand flies to his hair, with an exasperated sigh.

“Okay, but – let me be by your side. And make it quick.”

The fact that he thinks you need his approval is downright funny, though you’d take issue with it any other time. Now, you are amused by his good intended worries and don’t have it in your conscience to break his heart over it, or bring up a quarrel.

So, you start undressing. Only your socks and shoes.

Still, the blush settles on his cheeks, and the light behind his eyes burns brighter as he sees the skin just above your knees naked. Not for the first time- still, he feels like turning his back on you, but does no such thing. And that is not because it defeats the purpose of his presence.

God, how could you even make you believe he wasn’t planning on having these impure thoughts?

You feel your temperature rising, and it has nothing to do with the sun. You meet his hypnotized eyes, and can still feel it focused on you. After days of dissatisfaction, its effect is multiplied by ten, making your heart race. You pray none of it is visible on your face. the last thing you need is for him to know.

He laughs when you lay the white fabric in the old woods of the docks, like the spoiled child you are. It is more than likely to stain, but more importantly, it is definitely old, creacking under every step, hence his aversion to sit beside you with a head shake. You shrug in return, and pull your skirt slightly above your knees, swinging your legs back and forth.

“Oh, this is lovely!” You say, sprawling your toes in the water. “Truly, you are missing out.”

“I believe you, my Lady.” His tone is joyful, just the right combination of trust and mockery.

You turn to look at him, a big mistake. The excess part of your dress brushes the surface, wetting the fabric, though it is the last thing you care. He is looking at you, with that charming grin, and subtle hunger etched into his gaze, screaming worship, in complete awe of the scene he's beholding, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, holding his hand, her dress bunched up like in those ancient paintings of fairies, and endless passion for the leading role of it. It swirls the emotions deep inside your belly, the only reaction you want to avoid. Yet, you’re not immune to it. your heart skips a beat, the tingles overtaking your skin.

“Look- I see fishes!” You whip your head, the one thing you can do in hopes of breaking the tension. You lean forward, trying to get a clear view, or try to do so because you are stopped by his grip.

“That’s enough.” The command sends a shiver down your spine. “You shouldn’t go any further.”

“Fine.” You huff, the simplest protest you can manage. His touch softens as he realizes you’re going to follow his words, though takes long to let go.

A few minutes pass in the silence of nature.

“How long are you going to stand like this?” You ask, exasperated that this isn’t going anything like you imagined.

“What?”

“I feel like I’m also standing, this is hardly fun.”

“That is only the result of your own choice.”

Narrowing your eyes, you huff and climb back on your feet, disregarding the objections of the offended dock. Then, you push past him- 

He suddenly pulls you back, promptly disrupting your balance, a tactic he uses to pick you up into his arms. You scream as your feet meet the air, hands grabbing anything they can reach which ends up being his clothes.

“What are you doing?!” You yell, burying your fingers into him. With how strong your grip is, you can feel every muscle tensing under your touch. 

“I’m not gonna let you walk in that mud, after all.” He explains like it was the problem you were referring to.”

“My shoes! – and-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get them.”

He adores the pout you have as he fetches them.

He leans his back on the tree, and you rest your arms on your knees, propped up.

“So, we are to sit here and sulk?”

“If you name it so.” His smile is borderline insulting, ear to ear. With one look, he points at the reason- your wet feet. There’s literally no choice but to wait for them to dry up. But by proposing the only solution, he infuriates you further.

“Very interesting.” You snark. “I would’ve just stood back if I knew this was what we would be doing.”

“And now it is I who might take those words as an insult. Have I somehow proven my companionship to be loathsome in the times we spent together?”

Times you spent together… The flashbacks are, as implied in their name, flash before your eyes at such great speed that by the time you realize it is not something you should ponder upon now, your heart rate is already up, the flame deep in your belly ignited once again, and even the sounds of the past are echoing in your ears. You turn your head away from him, cursing at the color blooming on your cheeks.

Oh, but the action is enough to let him know exactly what you are feeling, a song of “I thought so” on his tongue- yet he doesn’t sing it yet, realizing the underestimation of his own emotions. He brings it upon himself- a glance at you, taking in your red face (as much as possible) and bare legs, let out to the sun to dry up.

“Well, I’ll think that’s the case if you don’t say anything.” He opts to say this instead, loving to taunt you further. 

“It’s not.” You mumble, still turned to the other side, fingernails digging at your palm.

“I can’t hear you, dear.”

“I said-“

The moment you move your head, you are met with his face, so close to yours, a distance he promptly closes by placing a hand at your neck, and tugging at it, ‘til your lips crash. You lose your balance once more, gripping his collars to not fully crush him with your weight. You gasp, the only protest you have in yourself, because for all your resolve to stay away, here you are, falling right into his arms. And it feels so damn good.

You gasp, pushing him. He laughs as his back hits the tree, never once breaking eye contact.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You whisper-scream, suddenly aware of the fact that while you are all alone on this field, your friends are still very much around.

“Oh, what am I doing? It is you, darling, don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you were looking at me.”

You direct your gaze to the ground, embarrassment getting the better of you.

“What is it?” He questions your lack of defiance. “You had no problem before. Don’t tell me you’re scared of being seen. They should at least be like, a mile away.”

Yeah. That’s absolutely correct. Besides, you’re shielded from any unwanted visitors by the thick line of trees, and the sheer distance between there and the path. It is a secluded corner of the lakeside.

“Or is there something else that’s bothering you?” This, is said in a more suggestive tone, and its effect is only amplified by the way he holds your chin to refocus your attention. You burn under his grasp and insistent watch.

Say farewell to your pride.

You let yourself fall over him once more, kissing him with a whimper you can’t quite suppress. You feel his smirk at that, but neither of you dwells on it, for he too lets out a sound of desperation, panting as he pulls you close, placing you on his thigh. (You hear your dress positively rubbing against the grass, and dare not to imagine the green blotch that may appear.) You don’t know whether to celebrate your newfound closeness or chastise your weak will, for it creates a new wave of desire in you as you delve your fingers into his beard. Your skin lights up against his coarse hair, so familiar yet so unyielding under your touch, and to be holding his face in your hands like this only blinds you more. So blind that you only realize the movement of your hips, seeking pleasure, when he holds them.

“See? That’s what I’m talking about.” A kiss right on the left corner of your lips. “Are you haunted by that night so deeply that you are unable to satisfy your needs on your own, like me? Or hell, with another?” Even in the midst of haze, you don’t miss the way his eyes darken at the mention of a third party.

“No- only you.” You whisper, too afraid of things ending.

“Fuck.” He can’t help but burst at your surrender. “That’s my girl. Lift your hips a little for me, darling.”

You oblige without question, raising yourself on your trembling thighs. Holding your breath, imagining all the things he can do to you… He is bewitched by your neediness, the way you moan at the first contact his hand makes with your skin after lifting your skirt just above your knees so you have more freedom to move, and can directly sit on his thigh.  

Speaking of it, why? Your eyebrows scrunch as he pushes you down like that, though the actual questioning part comes a second after your clit rubs against the fabric, not his cock, the first jolt of true ecstasy you experienced in a while, but that can’t be the case for him, right? “What are you-?”

“Trust me.” He takes his sweet time to relish the expense of your neck, so close for his taking, partly to ease your nerves, and frankly it is too much fun for his own good to feel you twitch in anticipation, and your breath getting stolen away at his open-mouthed kisses, panting when he lingers on a spot for too long at the fear of him leaving a bruise. “No marks, I perfectly remember.” He has to confess after a point, and only after that point, you begin to truly relax, and have your heart beating so fast at the same time, noticing your wetness is positively seeping into his clothes.

Your jaw hangs open with a silent pant as he decides it’s enough, and guides your body, rocking onto his. It’s not something you haven’t done before, but there’s something so unique about now, maybe the scandalous location, or your depraved state, or simply everything regarding him, that you are convinced it looks like your first time. Shit, it may even be your first time, considering the previous examples are nowhere close to this, the stakes, the desperation, the payoff… You’re holding onto his shoulders like a fucking virgin, pressed so close to receive every bit of affection he's giving. It’s the damn heat, the greatest excuse on your lips for the last couple of weeks, invalidated by the nonexistence of space between you and him. It only causes sweat to pour out of both of you, like the constant drip out of your cunt, sabotaging all your attempts to gain control, and create the slightest of frustration. 

“Obi Wan.” You chant his name, unable to form any other word, and he drinks it all in, valiantly ignoring the ache in his cock. It is a hard task, a growing challenge as your knee brushes against it from time to time, especially when you try to take initiative and escape the rhythm he’s trying to create.

“Ah-ah-ah- Let me take over. You know we’re short on time, darling.”

Then, he does justice to his words as he bounces his leg, the added pressure claiming a gasp from you.

“Do that again.” What your efforts can't get you, maybe your pleads can. After all, you're just as stubborn as him, giving up easily is not on your book.

“Only because you asked so nicely.”  

You roll your eyes, though it is totally due to annoyance, and let out a moan, throwing your head back. The fresh air does nothing for your lungs anymore, just an outlet for your scandalous noises. Which, he has no complaints too, your erratic breaths warmed his neck enough, and blessed him with those sweet sounds, right under his ear. Oh, but in any other case, this was anywhere else, and he had to silence you, also which he has no complaints too. Perhaps the sole problem is missing the blissed out expressions of your pretty face, and the light in your eyes, burning for him.

“Are you close?” Like he even needs to ask, like he’s not aware of your moans turned whimpers.

“Hmmh.” Is all the answer he gets, and that’s enough for him, laughing quietly, as you feel the vibrations of his chest.

When you cum, it is indeed an earth-shattering moment, and an end to your misery, the first drop of water after thirst- so much so that you don’t care about it happening in such a short time. Your legs squeeze his firm thigh, shaking over them like the rest of you. His one hand travels to your waist, holding you steady and pressed against him. You swear you can feel every aspect of his hand over three layers of fabric, yet he’s not actually exerting that much power, treating you like a delicate flower, afraid to crush the silky petals.

You sigh as the trembles die down, your senses coming back to you one by one- the first and foremost the tension in the body beneath you. Your fingers loosen from his collars, and travel the expanse of his torso slowly, a kiss to his throat in the meantime.

“Don’t you worry about me.” His voice is slightly shaky, though it may very well be due to his exertion.

“I think I should.” Its trueness is further proven when you palm him, and he groans. Though he is insistent.

“Look at you, you sweet thing, concerned with me walking around with a hard-on.”

That has you rolling your eyes, and removing your hand. Removing your entire body, even. You settle on the grass, leaning on your elbows. Your dress is already ruined, so you’re past the point of worrying.

“On the other hand, you may want to think about this.” He points to his wet trousers, the dark stain visible even though the fabric is black.

Uh oh. That is indeed a problem, if you are to return soon. Unfortunately, your brain can’t grasp the danger, coming up with solutions like soaking him entirely in the lake… 

So, it’s no wonder that your next words are a joke.“You marked me, I marked you. We're even.”

To your surprise, it works. His laughter fills the entire forest, yours a whisper in comparison. The idea that maybe, just maybe this can be repeated every now and then, that it wouldn't harm anyone fills your chest with a different kind of cheer, a hopeful sensation that suits the summer. He's proven his carefulness, making the best of the situation without risking either of you. The rising hope in you should scare you, but it doesn't. It only makes you sprawl under the sun like a cat enjoying the heat, and join his laughter with a big grin.

“Fair. Absolutely fair.”

===

The next time you see each other again, things seem to cool down a bit. It is entirely a civil dinner, always at a respectable distance, the number of times you lock eyes are countable on one hand (though some border the edge of being a little too long), and it is all not so surprisingly, plain. Maybe it is about both of you trying to contain one’s self, so much so that the other core aspect of both of you, the humorous side is buried that night and no other person can live up to its ghost. Perhaps it is due to the upcoming end of summer, bringing out a tinge of melancholy, already mourning the past, thus your impulses dwindle down, the sparkles absent.

That is, ‘til, you are the only occupants in the saloon, after the other guests have left, and your aunts retreated to their rooms. You are reading a book, barely aware of the fact when he, sitting next to you in that single armchair drops whatever pen he’s holding, just by your feet. You’re pulled out of your trance by the sound it creates, raising your gaze from the page just in time to see him bending over to retrieve it or- ending up completely kneeling in front of your legs.

He raises his head, and you watch the way his face softly being illuminated by the candlelight, a smile you can’t decide whether charming or devilish, long abandoning his mission.

That’s the moment the air shifts, and the room feels hotter like the cheminee is lit, the heat wave has returned, and taken both of you to that lakeside, and the week before it, the frustration and despair that came with being unable to take care of yourself. You haven’t felt such a thing after, perhaps, it’s due to your fulfilled state and therefore lack of trial, but now, the need returns, like adding more to an already full cup, realization only hitting after the drops spill from the sides. The cup demands to be emptied, - translation: your soul demands whatever pleasure you can get your hands on- and the image of him causing it is certainly a preference.

(Again, it is your soul that’s demanding it- your brain would very much like to lock you away in the furthest corner of this house, or kick him, if that’s all you can manage.)

“Excuse me?”

“I just remembered how I failed to say how beautiful you look tonight.” 

“Thank you.” Your mouth speaks before you can protest the improperness of your situation. Color settles on your cheeks for accepting his compliment first. “What are you doing?”

“Collecting my pen.” He shrugs, and demonstratively takes it to his hand, yet it is once more left to the ground instead of the nearest table, with the rest of his papers. He adds, “I admire how you are an expert in navigating every social situation, whether it's a boring dinner like this, or a ball.

Your eyebrows raise at the boring part, after all, it's hosted by your relatives, and it wasn't exactly boring, maybe a little uneventful. “Not every occasion has to be full of adventure, Lord Kenobi. Slow nights like this are beneficial for the soul. Gives the mind some rest.” 

He purses his lips, like he’s been told on his bluff, the one part he emphasized to sound strong. Because, he is. He had fun tonight, the type that fills one’s heart with sweet lethargy. “I suppose you’re correct. But you’re missing out on an important detail.”

“And what is that?”

“The right company.”

You’re glad that your hands were pressing against the book, holding the page, because if they weren’t, they would be visibly shaking.

“I have underestimated how much I missed you, that much is clear to me now.” Barely speaking, or barely speaking anything important with you throughout the evening, yet he feels rejuvenated, the ache in his chest becoming prominent as it starts the heal. He doesn’t say the last part, but the sentiment is reflected in the soft sparkle behind his eyes, the hypnotic storm, pulling you towards unknown chaos, but beautiful, and promising safety in its center. That’s why you don’t protest as his hand reaches for yours, brushing your knee (he wanted to do that for some time, to feel the soft fabric that basically decorates your body), interlocking fingers, and reluctantly retreating them in favor of taking the book that sits in your lap, setting it aside. You don’t protest, despite the screams in your head, saying he’s right there why is he still there-

 “And the other thing I missed terribly, the sight of your legs.”

Your shaky inhale echoes.

His fingers gently close over your ankles, and travel upwards slowly, lifting your dress alongside. “Though I’ve only seen them twice, they might be my favorite view, ever.”

“Is that so?” You are perplexed by the confession, with a lazy grin, very much enjoying the seduction. His way with words seems like a constant threat to your sanity, but damn do you adore it dearly, a voluntary victim to its spell.

“Why would I ever lie to you?” He whispers, hands tightening. “I like them very much. But I think I would like them better around my shoulders.” He pulls your knees slightly, causing you to yelp as your back caves in, and grasps your ankles once more, proceeding to demonstrate exactly his words.

“What are you doing?” You ask, like you don’t know the answer. It is a statement, an acknowledgment, the last chance to bring some sense into any of you. You’re in the living room, in a house that is not your own, filled with people who are still very well awake, and can just decide to come in.

“Having a second dessert, if I may?” And how can you refuse, after the image is served to you on a golden plate?

“But at the lake - You were-” 

“You think I'm doing this for recompensation?”

“No, I didn't mean to imply that.” God, this is embarrassing. “I just wanted to say I might miss having my way with you.”

“I’ll be glad to take that as a promise.”

Then, it is settled. 

Still, he waits for your small nod and takes in the way you bite your lip, wishing he was the one to do so, but- priorities. Time is a valuable asset, especially now, and he has to honor his offer. That’s why he opts for a few small, open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, actively fighting the desire to leave bruises, evidence, a memory. Judging by the rapidness of your breath, it seems he has reached his goal in some way. It’s the beard- scratching your skin even when his mouth is not doing something, sensitizing the flesh and making it all too susceptible to the incoming assault. Your hand flies up, absentmindedly reaching for his hair, yet stopping a second before, landing on the couch instead- if you messed up his hair, there’s no coming back from it. He chuckles at your struggle, the warm breath making you squirm. Even if you don’t, he’s maddened by action, despite the laugh. He has you- but not really. He’s enveloped in your heat, taking in your scent, and seconds away from tasting you, but is not able to be blessed with the slight pain he'd felt if you tugged on his strands, or the untamed sounds you’d have sung in a more private setting.

So yes, he’s as torn and desperate as you. Slow nights, you said? 

Truth be told, it doesn’t matter what adjective comes before the word; slow or fast, boring or exciting as hell, freezing or hellishly hot; if it is with you, it is a good night. Otherwise, it is lacking. The world may be painted gray forever, considering you two mostly don’t get the chance to spend more than two occasions together in a week, but there can be no comparison to colorful scene of those moments.

And this is the night Obi Wan admits that fact.

You both moan, when his tongue finally meets your cunt, licking a messy stripe. It is more of a vibration than a noise- possibly for the best. It makes you jolt, and his hold tightens, and again, it is for the best, because when he decides to pay attention to your clit after his time exploring your folds is done, your limbs start to shake, threatening to fall. Your eyes roll back when things settle, and pleasure starts to build up, your juices flowing, and he drinks it all in before they have the chance to make a mess of your dress.

That is the first time he takes a break. “Eyes on me, darling.”

What is with him and that special request?

Your whine doesn’t mean anything to him, except make his cock twitch in his now tight trousers- but that has other reasons too. He waits ‘til your eyelids open once more, and you meet his gaze, and a second longer, unable to resist the urge to get lost in your hazy expression. Then, he dives back in, swirling the muscle around your bundle of nerves. In any other circumstance, you’d have thought this would be too indelicate, so straight to the point, no fun or respect, yet his way to do so is anything but those qualities. His movements are precisely designed for you, slow enough to not cause discomfort, fast enough to make the best of your unknown time limit. You’re afraid to deduce that one time was enough for him to learn you, one time to turn your world upside down, and leave you to deal with the memory of it. 

“Sweetie?” That’s the first time your eye contact is broken. The world freezes for a second before it does, and your head whips to the direction the sound has come from, to find your aunt by the door. Miraculously, she continues to stand there, unbothered by the long and protective distance which compromises of the dining table and the back of your couch, a perfect cover for the scandal that is taking place. Obi Wan stills, perhaps even stops breathing, yet he’s the one to snap you out of your shock with his grip around your skin. It is ridiculously encouraging, knowing he's not abandoning you on your own, even at the expense of getting caught, and the dread it would surely follow.

“Yes, auntie?” You gulp. Trying not to sound breathless is a clear effort.

“Have you seen Lord Kenobi?”

Your reputable smartness lags, the answer of yeah, he’s right here IN BETWEEN MY LEGS, occupying your mind.  “I think he went out to get some air, I haven’t seen him for some time.”

“How odd.” She comments, “And what are you doing there on your own?”

“Reading my book.” You smile, and hope your cheeks’ tremble isn’t too noticeable. “It’s quite good- couldn’t tell the time.”

She scorns. “Oh, now I see- he must’ve gotten bored as you were buried in your book. You truly should work on your guest etiquette, dear. And Lord Kenobi, of all people!”

“Auntie!” Your eyes widen, and you squeal a little, and feel Obi Wan giggling quietly.

“I’m just saying, that you should treat him better- he’s a good person, and obviously fancies you.”

“Auntie!”

“I mean, I like him? Don’t you like him?”

The urge the scream has never been stronger.

To escape the subsequent questions should you answer otherwise, you give in, and sag.” I do.” And the worst thing is, you actually do. Objectively, you like him, all his little jokes and sweet tongue (no pun intended), the elegant form he carries himself in, and the kind nature he never fails to live up to. Except for the dangerous extent your relationship is getting into, there’s nothing about him that you don’t like. And truthfully, even that is barely a matter you care about, proven by your current situation. 

You can feel him smile, the coarse facial hair biting into your skin, rubbing like a cat, and the sensation is followed by a kiss on your thigh. 

“Then you know what I am saying is the truth.” She raises her eyebrows in a motherly manner, a loving attempt of intervention. “Don’t stay up too late, no matter how absorbing that book is. We are invited for breakfast to the Mon’s Estate.”

Thankfully, she’s gone like that, saving you the act.

When you turn to your front again you find the need to come up with a warning to make him shut up unnecessary for he kisses you, silencing both of you. The action brings color to your cheeks more than ever in this entire evening. The fact that you can taste yourself on his tongue aside, he’s so gentle about it, like congratulating your success, or admiring your talent, pouring out his affection for you. You can’t help but wrap your legs around his wide torso, it is how good it feels. When you two part, the lack of breath gets the best of you, only then do the swarming butterflies in your stomach begin to disturb you again.

But you’re not so quick to forget the last couple of minutes. Perhaps you've spoken too soon back then at the lake, thinking this could be continued. You’d imagined the rest of this scene a little differently, letting him follow you to your room, returning the favor, but that scare has only helped you to brew a storm inside you.

“Obi Wan…” You whisper, brows cinched in concentration as he towers over you, claiming all your senses. “We can’t- we have to stop…”

“Sshh, calm down.” His thumb draws circles on your skin, trying to soothe you in one aspect, if not every. He’s not going to let you go to your bed shaken like this, for starters. “Take a deep breath.”

You try, twice before you can manage to fill your lungs in their entirety, and your achievement is rewarded with a peck to your neck. Some of the air leaves you in an abrupt exhale because of it, and he curses himself for it.

“Follow my lead.” He tries again, reclining on his knees, giving you space. It is another challenge to look into his ocean eyes, and match his pattern, but you manage, your heart beat semi-regular after a minute or so.

Semi, for said eyes and your bare pussy are face to face, and all common sense loses its importance, burned by the fire inside you.

“Obi Wan- please…”

“You sure?” He will be very disappointed if you change your mind, but he has to ask, play the sensible part. And ignore the constant throb in his trousers that has become even more unbearable after you confessed your feelings.

“Just… make it quick.” Oh, are you seriously requesting an orgasm like ordering a cake in a café?

“As you wish, love.”

He starts out the same, just playing his game a little faster, and he holds your hand as he does so, the small detail as efficient as his moves. But, the final blow is his other hand, prodding against your entrance. The flood of memories doesn’t help either, as you remember that night. A loud moan threatens to leave you, and you slap your palm against your mouth. He stops ‘til you are secured, praise in his eyes, and pushes the two digits in, stretching you out in the way. Your fingers are nothing in comparison, and he notices it immediately, the way your walls hug him. 

Though, he’s an expert, and can absolutely manage to take care of you properly, so there’s nothing but pleasure, your slick channel welcoming the intrusion. It is not long before he feels the resistance fading and returning in a new form, as your climax approaches, and your muscles begin to quiver.

With your noises secured in your throat, the only form of communication is your connected hands, squeezing each other sometimes enough to risk breaking fingers. He understands what you mean perfectly, reaching up to a certain speed, then keeping it the same ‘til you start trashing, legs violently shaking around his body, and juices dripping, this time more than he can clean up. If any other time, he wouldn’t stop ‘til he feasted on every drop of it, but he withholds himself, respecting the clouds of danger. He’s glad to have helped with your anxiety, yet he doesn’t want to carry the ease to dangerous level and make you susceptible to be swayed in whatever direction.

Well, the image of his messy, wet beard certainly sends you through the wrong one, but already your nerves are not able to take more risks tonight, so you just bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, and lower your legs to the ground as he starts by cleaning out his fingers. It is hard to believe any man would try this much to indulge in your every aspect, but here he is, careful about even the smallest part.

Damn, you want to take him to your room and let him have his way with you so bad- but this is enough adventure for a night.

“Good night, Lord Kenobi.” You say, fixing your skirt, and standing up on shaky legs with your book clutched in the tightest grip against your belly.

“Good night, darling.” He nods, a content smile. “Send my compliments to the chef. “

===

“Lord Kenobi?”

You’re justified in your shock, enough to express it out loud in the middle of the jewelry shop, the last place you’d expect to run into him. Of course, he’s a neat and subtle man, and his appearance reflects his statue, though in a very calculated yet effortless manner. His pocketwatch is a family heirloom, so you’ve been told, a chic piece he takes great care of, and while his cufflinks are always elegant, it is never that eye-catching. It only compliments its wearer, you dare say, a final addition to an already completed painting.

(You never denied his handsomeness, and this is an objective opinion. Don’t read much into it.)

His supposed loneliness coupled with the fact that he looks utterly lost and bored, your curiosity is aggravated further.

Also, bumping into each other? What is this, a trick of fate?

“Madame.” He bows, and moves to press a kiss to your hand, the tradition not forgotten. His shock is easily ridden, unlike yours. The small blush on his cheeks and the wide grin on his lips tell contradictory stories, not that you’re judging, but the evident thing is his excitement.

“What are you doing he-”

“What a coincidence-“ His interruption is most unexpected, along with the high pitch in his voice.

You tilt your head, further dazed, but before the suspicion creeps in (you would be terrified to turn your gaze and find women’s accessories laid out for his picking on the table, for somebody else or for you; the latter being the lesser evil, but still disturbing), another joins, though he doesn’t seem to notice you at first.

“How helpful you are being, Obi Wan!” The tall young man with light brown hair calls out, necklaces hanging from both hands. You have a feeling that if he wasn’t busy, there would’ve been a physical reaction as well, a friendly pat on his shoulder, perhaps. “Don’t you know this is important? I need-“

His sentence is broken when he catches your attentive gaze, and realizes you are a part of this conversation as well. You’re amused by how glass-like he is, full of emotions and not afraid to show them. He looks at you, and back to Obi Wan, who finally decides it’s time for an introduction. The expression of recognition flashes through his face in a second as your name is revealed, but you can’t reflect it back fully. You have heard of Kenobi’s best friend or as some call it, brother, although barely from the man himself. You've witnessed how Kenobi's eyes lighten up with pride whenever Skywalker was mentioned, and stories- summaries of their adventures together that he told. The shortness of them wasn't a result of his unwillingness to tell them, but the circumstances of your company, never long or alone enough to visit them in their deserved entirety. 

To be honest, Anakin doesn't know much about you either. He and Padme prefer the countryside by the sea, especially during the summer, thus he and Obi Wan hadn't had the means to talk often lately. He senses the situation, by the slight tension in the older man's voice; this strong, confident man crumbling into pieces for some unknown reason. 

“Pleased to meet you, my Lady.” He makes a small cursty, which you mirror.  

“Likewise, Lord Skywalker.” 

“I’m afraid I’ll need my friend back to keep his promise.” The chains in his hands shake as he speaks, reminding the absurdity of it all. You’re not disturbed by it though, for all is concealed under his charismatic voice and mimics. He’s pretty and he knows it, which gives him all the tools to captivate others. Now you understand why people speak about him like that, moved by hearing his name alone.

“Oh, not a problem at all. We were just saying hello.” Entertained by the interaction, your anxiety is somewhat diminished, enough to let him go without an explanation. Also, the way that he rolls his eyes, and clenches his jaw is very cute, you dare say.

“Promise? I never promised anything.” He murmurs, but it is still audible for you as he follows his friend. And the rest, which makes you laugh whenever you remember it. “Anakin- she's your wife, you know her better than me. How exactly do you expect me to help you?”

“You always had a vision when it comes to beautiful things. Not like my eyes, which are only accustomed to the dirt and grease of machinery.”

You have to bite the inside of your cheeks to stop grinning, while you start talking with the salesman about the bracelet you’ve given them to restore. They make you sit and wait for a couple of minutes, all of which you spend trying to not spy on them. Fortunately, the shop is quite crowded, and their conversation is a part of the low grumble. A cup of tea is placed in front of you, as well as some new pieces they think you might like.

The one that catches your attention is not among them, however. It is a ring with a blue stone, the tone too similar to something you can’t put your finger on. It is too big to be for a woman, clearly designed for the other sex, but you admire its elegance nonetheless.

“Here is your piece, Madame.” The young salesman returns with a package, just in time to stop you from reaching it.

“Thank you.” You take the precious item back into your hands and inspect the handwork. It is shining once again, polished, and the place you accidentally broke it is now attached, the handwork barely visible.

You release a deep breath, praying graces. You would’ve never forgiven yourself if the family heirloom was forever damaged from the incident. You almost cried when it happened, a stupid game you were playing with Carolina before a ball, when you had already gotten ready and she was counting the minutes to her bedtime.  

“That is beautiful.” Obi Wan joins you once more, now looking more relaxed. Your eyes search for Anakin and find him waiting for a package, reaching for his wallet. Mission accomplished. “May I?”

The chain slides into his hands, and wraps around your wrist under the watch of the young boy with a wholesome smile. He must think you two are engaged in some way, and there’s no turning back from it.

“Would that be all, Madame?”

“Actaully I-“ You remember about the ring, and even if you just want to unravel the mystery around it, the words have already left your mouth, and the entire tray is placed on the table.

Oh. Oh. With him next to you, suddenly it all makes sense. You’re holding the color of his eyes on your palm.

“That is beautiful too.” He remarks, embracing his role a little too much.

“I think it would suit you.” Now it is your turn to accessorize him. He is silent while you do so, taken aback by the unorthodoxty of it all.

“I’m not sure-“ Is all he manages to say, though can’t stop looking at it. It is ridiculously so well fitted around his finger, the fate pulling all strings to give a message.

“It compliments your eyes.” You defend yourself, perhaps a little too lively but you have no shame. It is the truth.

“The Lady is correct.” The boy joins your side, or does his job. “It is a most excellent match.”

“I might think about it.” Is how far he budges, returning it, and checking up on Anakin from where he’s standing. 

“How much do I owe you?”

“Please, allow me-“

The audacity? The though is reflected in your face, which makes him blush at his unnecessary offer.

“With the ring.” You add, and it is all said and done ‘til he has time to get rid of his embarrassment and intervene.

Then, you make him take the package from you, your fingers wrapping around his. “You’re allowed to have nice things, you know?” There’s not an ounce of sarcasm in your tone, only gentle suggestion. “You don’t have to wear it, but I want you to have it.”

“Thank you.”  

And you’re gone before Skywalker can catch up.

===

You truly don’t expect to see him wearing it, you really don’t.

But you’re proven wrong so, so badly.

He doesn’t take it off.

When he takes on his promise, and actually starts working on the ball he’s supposed to throw, the first thing he does is request for your uncle’s help. Then your uncle entrusts the job on you, and you’re spending hours with him like that, securing the musicians, bargaining for the food supplies, preparing invitation lists… Truly, that’s it. You too are surprised to accompany him that much and engage in nothing outside of the mission. Truthfully, a little concerning in the grand scheme of things, the inevitable result of your relationship improving, real sincerity. Although you have zero problems with the fact, enjoying it far too much. You don't care about how your contributions are secret, for your efforts surpass the limits of help that are considered friendly, and fully acknowledge that it is gonna be a damn good ball. 

Also, while you hate to see him distressed, it is a look on him that you are guilty of adoring. The nervousness is like a little crack in his shell, a way to see a part of him that rarely sees the daylight. And it is for something so feeble? Only half of his effort would be enough for a wonderful ball, and he still tries to do more, and gets agitated over that? You are cruel for laughing at that, you confess. But it is more of a balancing act, rather than a mock. Somebody's gotta play the sane part, lower the tension. 

You're ready to help with that, too.

“Do you think I should hire-” 

You're at his study, the place you've been sitting since the morning. Time flies with every cup of tea, and plates of biscuits, but after a while, things inevitably get boring. For you, at least. He's quite focused, brows scrunched, tie slightly loosened. You see him looking at the list that you've put together in the beginning, the possible ways to entertain his guest. 

You've already arranged the services of more than half of them. Twice the amount that would be considered enough.

And he's still going over it?

“That's enough!” Your open palm lands on the surface. 

Obi Wan doesn't expect your outburst. He doesn't flinch, but his mimics change in an equivalent way. His lips part, causing him to relax that clenched jaw -oh, you might have a point. 

“You. Need. To. Relax.” You’re now less frantic, due to his irresistibly clueless expression, though still firm in your cause. Fuck, how can he look at you with those doe eyes and expect you to… do anything! 

You get up, and reach for the papers, sending them in a far corner of the desk. While you do so, you are basically halfway in between him and the table. Putting the teacups and the pot back on the tray (it has grown cold a long time ago), you turn to him, almost sitting at the desk in order to fit that narrow space. The bashful smile on his face (as if he wasn’t enjoying the perfect view of your ass seconds before) breaks your heart once more.

Putting your hand on his shoulder, you mirror his emotion. “It’s gonna be a splendid night. The kind that people will talk about it for years. And I’m not exaggerating on that one. I would’ve said the same thing days ago, all before the last additions, too.”

It is a challenge to feel the warmth of your skin, and not lean against it. “You’re right.” He tugs on his collar, taking a deep breath. “But you know- I’ve never planned a ball in my life, and- I just need it to be perfect.”

You giggle, and replace your hand on his cheek that is colored with the confession of his little perfection obsession. You welcome the slight sting of his beard, like a habit, and caress his cheekbone. He dares not move, or even take a breath, only watching your pretty face focused on his, and relish the feeling of your thumb across his features.

“It’s going to be just that.”  You might’ve said, or a joke about his troubles, but words scurry off of your mind as you stay like that, squished in place as you try your best to comfort him.

“Can you kiss me?” The thought seems lunatic when uttered on a whim, but it has crossed your mind too, you must admit. 

“Only because you asked so nicely.” There's an undeniable urge to use his words back at him. 

Your back has to bend in an uncomfortable way for your lips to touch, but you have no complaints about it. The touch is so soft, laden with affection in the purest kind. It is obvious in every way, the movement of your mouths, determined to preserve the sweetness and sweetness alone, and the itch in your palms, mapping each other out over and over again, and the determination of your lungs, using every last drop of oxygen before demanding an exchange. 

“T-thank you for that, dear.” His eyes open after a few seconds, with a sheepish smile that causes him to speak in whispers.

It’s about to get real dangerous for you, if he keeps being this cute. 

“I’m not about to say we should've done it sooner, for it is a complete waste of our time repeating a truth well known, and I've already used that trick before, but maybe we should do it again.” 

Okay, but how does that kind of sass sound cute from your perspective?

“Don't push your luck.” You say, fingers smoothing his hair, and his complaint dies on his throat visibly. He purrs, eyelids closing. That's the moment you decide to press a small peck to his lips for all his troubles. It lasts longer than intended, and while it's definitely different than the previous one, him gripping your waist telling a different story. The weight of them is welcome nonetheless, and it serves as an anchor, like you two could be molded into a statue if he held it long enough.

However, he is the one to break the stillness, shifting in his chair- first of all, how dare he, you're doing the acrobatics here-

Oh.

He notices that you've noticed it. Clearing his throat, Obi Wan lets his hands slide to the table, just a centimeter away from your body. “It’s been some time.” His face remains focused on the floor.

Didn't he even take care of himself?

You push his shoulder back, and he takes it a step further without a blink, sliding away with his chair. 

What he doesn't expect, is for you to stay exactly where you are, only this time on your knees. He has to gulp once, then twice, because he finally looks at your face, smiling back at him. 

“May I help?” Admittedly, your fluttering gaze was unnecessary, and tips him even more. You don't miss the way he stabilizes his hands.

“By all means.” 

You start by unfastening the buttons of his tan trousers, letting your forearms rest on his thighs. He aids your quests by lifting his hips a little, being freed from the constraints of the fabric-

There he is.

You bite your lip at the sight, and the sight is not just his huge cock, already hard and weeping for you. It is about him, and the redness that creeps up his neck, the way he hisses and bites his knuckles at the cool air hitting his sensitive skin, how he claws at the armrest waiting for your touch. His head nearly hits the back of the chair when you finally do, a small moan leaving his exposed throat.

Well. You really should’ve done this sooner.

Your thumb swirls around his head, more fluid leaking out as you do so. Thus your fingers slide down his shaft easily, and he is coated in his slick in no time, along with your palm. It twists around him without rush, leaving him to wander in that dream like state without mentioning a finish line. You want to ask him, ask him how he likes it, or make him cover your hand with his, guiding you, but you also want him to stay just like this, eyes fixed with that heavy lidded gaze, partially obscured by that infamous strand of hair that refuses to be tamed like others. His mouth hangs open with loud breaths and sometimes graces you with sounds of his pleasure.  

“Harder.” The only instruction you need.

You clasp tighter and shudder like him, taking pride in your work. He can feel the strain in his muscles fading second by second, the problems in his mind are plucked out one after the other, replaced by your soothing words you repeated constantly for days at this point, and expert hands, creating the same effect on his body.

“Like this, Lord Kenobi?” You require you still acquire his opinion, a feedback, and his title rolls off of your tongue unintentionally. Honestly, there’s no explanation you can make even to yourself, but you are already over it as his cock twitches under your palm, and his groan fills the room.

“Y-yes. You’re doing- so good.”

That must be some sort of karma, for he is above the concept of revenge, but you’re left with an itch to grind your legs together at his praise. If you do that, you’ll probably feel your wetness smearing all over your skin, you’re sure of it.

And you’re determined not to be distracted.

Your other hand joins the game too, starting to massage his balls. That makes him tense under you for a moment, but the tension dissolves quickly, leaving him dizzier.

“Fuck-“ Even the simplest swear word sounds hypnotizing on his lips, “you’re perfect. Don’t stop.”

Like you had any intention to do that.

On the contrary, your intentions evolve in the direction after his words, perhaps even a little bit further. You lean in and lick a stripe up his length, the tip of your tongue dancing around his head, fully tasting him, before you take him to your mouth fully.

His hand flies up, shaking as it comes down, held back by the strongest of wills from delving into your hair. Instead, it inches closer to your cheek, and returns to the position before (because he may have just lost five years of his life feeling the way you swallow him), half-stabilized over the armrest. His head rolls back once more, unashamed to release his moans with your every move. The most sinful one comes out when you use your throat, gagging around his thickness. You repeat it, and he whimpers, earning an equal sound from you too.

This time, you don’t have to ask him anything. The eye contact as you recover your breath, and continue to stroke him tells you everything you need to know, tells how much he enjoys it.

“Please- darling-“

You don’t try to choke on him again, but keep a rhythm with your tongue and your palm. He reaches climax quickly nonetheless, throbbing in your mouth and coating it white. Obi Wan feels sorry for not warning you, a sense of guilt rising alongside that pleasure, but it once again came over with lust as you gulp it down without a blink. He even fears he might go hard in a second, against all the rules of nature. You provoke that in all ways possible, pressing small kisses to his shaft, occasionally licking it, and letting your head rest on his thigh.

“Thank you.” It is so out of place to say that for this kind of act, but it is the sentence that is spoken, breaking the silence.

“You’re welcome, my Lord.” Thankfully, you raise your gaze just in time to miss the way his cock moves. You straighten your back and throw your shoulders back, stretching like you’ve just woken up.

So cute and so filthy.

“I’d like to return the favor.” He says, the action fueled only by his kind and generous soul.

“Some other time.” Your smile reflects the acknowledgment, not mocking his advances. “I am expected from home.”

“Ah, pity. Send my regards to your family.” He can’t help but feel envious of them. Do they know to treasure your company, not take a second of it for granted? Do they know what you did to him, before joining them? Would they be as accepting as ever, aware of your scandalous affairs?

Of course not.

But even then, you’d deserve much better than what they would treat you like. Your courage alone is enough to make the world bow down to you.

And what if your family means something other than your blood, your relatives? What if it was a stranger, a man undeserving, but had you to himself every night, when you returned home from your daily activities? A lucky fool who had the blessing of knowing you’d be by his side soon, every damn day.

His fingers turn into fists as you clean yourself up, so pretty in your ignorance to his gaze, brows slightly furrowed as you smooth out the wrinkles on your dress.

“Shall do.” And with your cheery voice, he doesn’t even notice his grip is unclenched.

===

Red isn’t his color. Some say it suits him well, that the stark contrast is eye-catching, but he doesn’t like to carry it. At this point of his life, it’s not even about his clothing choices, he prefers anything over that pigment in every possible scenario; the sheets, the carpets, the flowers… He makes a point of avoiding that powerful color.

Not today, though.

He has no word over how you dress and for once, tries very hard to stay neutral, not verbalize his choices when you mention the outfit you’ll be wearing in his ball, and it is a successful endeavor. (Knowing you and your stubbornness, it would probably only damage the bond between the two of you, something you’ll quip for years, or God forbid, keep you from attending at all.)

In the end, you wear it, and he ends up where he doesn’t want to be. Drowning in that bloody cloud. Without remorse, for the first time in his life.

For once, he finds himself chasing after it, taking joy in its liveliness, surrendering to the dangerous promises it makes. Your presence brings energy to every room you enter. The candles seem to burn brighter, and the warmth in his chest is not solely a result of both of your accomplishment of the spectacle. Obi Wan smiles ear to ear, eyes almost closed because of it, and he wants nothing more than to dance with you all night long, bury his hands in that expensive fabric and feel the burn in your cheeks, painted with the same color. He doesn’t even mean it in a perverse way. He wants to celebrate the payoff of your efforts, let the pride be felt, and enjoy the treats like all the guests, or even more than them (it would be more than fair to do so), together.

Alas, the society you both live in isn’t the type to accept such things. In order to not taint the event with the bitterness reserved for that principle, he doesn’t ask for more than six dances, or follow you around the saloon like a lost puppy. While it is never enough, he counts and cherishes the accidental eye contacts, and your hands holding his in dances, or the different circles you ran into each other and have snippets of various conversations. He accepts every compliment with your name tied behind his tongue and feels relieved with each passing hour, realizing how perfect everything is going, thanks to your pieces of advice and restrictions. He is light as a feather underneath all those layers he had to put on for the evening, without the pressing intention of taking it all off as soon as possible.

But, there are two sides to every coin, and here comes the other side, halfway through the night, the prejudice he had returning sinisterly.

He does a decent job of suppressing his jealousy, for all the purposes he’s thought of before. He can glance over when you dance with a stranger, or two, ricocheting on the stage and putting on a show for everyone. He chooses to admire the beauty you’re radiating, shining like a rose after the rain. It keeps him occupied for a while. But when an hour passes and you’re not even looking at his general direction, way too engulfed in your conversation with them, he feels a distaste rising in him. The red bleeds into his heart, poisoning him. It slowly takes over, and by the time you throw your head back with a burst of laughter that echoes in the room, he’s entirely filled with it. His hands twitch with every dream of ripping the source of that poison from your skin in a cove meant for just the two of you, away from all the vultures that eat and drink and savor his doings and yet ready to crucify him at his slightest flaw.

Obi Wan is one step away from sending everyone to their homes when you escort that man to the garden. Honestly, the only reason he doesn’t is because you return in a minute or two, the tip of your nose giving away all he needs to know- it’s chilly.

And he didn’t even give you his jacket?

On the second thought, it’s best that he didn’t, because then Obi Wan wouldn’t even bother to get rid of the crowd to have his way with him.

“Lord Kenobi.” You manage to catch him alone, on the balcony. He’s up there to calm his nerves, over you, unbeknownst to you. Unfortunately, his progress is lost the second he hears your voice, and it is truly an effort to act otherwise.

The night is on the brink of ruin for him, and it doesn’t have to be that way for you. This is why he tries so hard.

“I must congratulate you on this beautiful ball. It is a night to remember.”

“Don't say it like the honor doesn't belong to us both.”

You shrug, as if whisking all the credit away. But your eyes twinkle with pride. 

“I haven't had this much fun in ages,” You chirp,  “I would've begged for another one already, if I hadn't witnessed the toll it took on you.” He covers his face at the mention of the state he has been in for the last couple of weeks. “Oh God, don't.” 

“Oh God, you just didn't expose yourself like that! When will you start enjoying this?” Your laugh is a hidden giveaway of how many glasses you had tonight. “Don’t worry, my lips are sealed for those who may inquire.” Your lips. Wrapped around his cock. Mapping out his neck. Keeping his secrets.  “Remember that every word that comes out of my mouth is said by a person who attended all types of feasts all over the continent for a decade now. I grew up around these circles.” Shrugging, you add. “Perhaps that was my undoing.”

“Undoing? I could never call you “undone”.” Ironic, how you make him forget about before and continue to concern him with totally different subjects.

“You’re right.” Thoughts come out a little slow, but your effort is evident on your face. “I just had too many opportunities to start over in new places, experience everything that I was curious about, and that all led me to discover exactly what I liked, what I wanted from life.”

“How’s that a bad thing?” 

“I’m not willing to let that go anytime soon.” You can’t help but notice that it sounds like some sort of prison of your will, but that’s not a discussion you can have tonight. “Anyways, Obi Wan. I must be going now, just wanted to pay my compliments and wish you good night.” 

“I thought you’d stay the night-“Well, that’s definitely not the case, “But it is so early?”

“You know our houses are not so close, any later than this and I’m going to fall asleep on the road out of habit.”

Yeah, that’s why he thought it would be perfectly reasonable for you to stay over. 

“I see.” And he wishes he had gone blind and deaf. “Then, allow me to bid you good night, my Lady.” 

He takes your hand, placing a kiss you can very much feel despite the fabric. What he doesn’t expect, is for you to press your palm against his chest in return, because he doesn’t know of the urge you have to not leave. It is a split second of override, before you can command your feet to move again, blissfully unaware how tender that moment was.

===

A day. A full day. That’s how long he can refrain from seeing you. Funny, the meetings have become a habit for him, and although he needed you back then, he needs you more now, for completely different reasons, and you’re not there that morning- and why would you be? There’s no arrangement that demands your assistance anymore. Your praises are all said and done, and if to be repeated, it wouldn’t certainly be a matter that required urgency for you to show up at his door.

And maybe, you have other places to be, other doors to knock. Perhaps you’d enjoy a change of air.

So, he has come to yours.

Naboo. Aldreaan. Correlia. The cities churn in his mind, alongside your image in every one of them. The flowers in your hand as you roam the fields of Naboo, the coat that doesn’t do much for the redness on the tip of your nose while you lodge in the mountains of Alderaan. The exquisite jewelry you wear to a Correlian masquerade, outshining every debutante in the room. He imagines the people hypnotized by your presence (what can they be, other than blessed), or you gliding among them (after all, discretion was your powerful suit). And the worst of all, he thinks of the man escorting you, claiming their dances, bringing you a glass of their rare wines, walking with you in the natural scene, their savage arms around you, their hands groping your curves, pulling sweet sounds from you.

(No, the purpose of his visit was not that. )

He invites himself in from your open balcony, catching you as you start your nightly routine. You’re taking off your hairpins, when he does the courtesy of knocking on the glass, startling you just a little. You jump, but thankfully do not scream, the reflex somehow suppressed. Truth be told, it’s not because your shock actually dwindles. If anything, it is redirected into a different question, going from “What the fuck was that?” to “Why the fuck is he here?”

“Good night, darling.” He gestures for you to sit again, and you do, returning to your chair in front of the vanity. Your head has to crane in a strange way for you to see him, but thankfully, he comes closer and solves the problem, eyes meeting through the mirror. And his face lights up as he sets foot in the room, like he too has forgotten everything but this moment, his jealousy and desperation left behind the walls. That’s how the question of “What are you doing here?” is not immediately articulated.

 Instead, you say, “Good night, Obi Wan.”

“I see I managed to visit you just in time.” Look at him, fixing his beard, laughing nervously. He just climbed to the second floor, and his heart only got racing now.

“Lucky you.” Honestly, you don't think there's a “wrong time” in his perspective, at least when it comes to you. A few minutes later, and he'd see you in your nightgown. Would that deter him from setting his foot in here? Most, most, most likely, no. Don't dwell on that thought, though. “And what do I owe the pleasure?” You try not to focus too much on the fact that you have him and your bed in the same frame, through the reflection. 

“I thought I would see you today.” Is that sarcasm in his tone, or a little bit of self-humiliation?

This must be some sort of a Shakespeare play, right? 

Oh my God, it is. 

“Ah.” You fiddle with your hairbrush, the eye contact broken, your attempt to stop any matter from escalating this night. Any matter. Not that you had any questions when it came to his morals, he probably was the one person you’d never doubt, but in terms of his intentions to be here tonight startled you in a much different light. “I slept in late today. Didn’t even leave the house.”

Oh. That makes quite the sense.

“Actually I still feel a little bit exhausted.”

“That’s because you had too much fun without me last night.” A treacherous scoff falls from his lips as he shakes his head. The moment that the tides turn. The one that brings back all the crude questions.

“What? No? What do you mean?” For all your effort to remain calm, you look alarmed, that tired face with doe eyes showing it all, and he feels sorry for a second, troubling you over his overthinking ass.

Then, he spots the bracelet you wore last night, lying haphazardly over a piece of paper on the corner of the table. It looks very much like a letter.

It’s not hard for him to advance his speculations.

“I think you know it already.”

“Obi Wan.” You twist to actually face him, your arm on the back of the chair. “Why are you here?”

He takes a few steps back, as if the air is stolen from the short distance between the two of you. He runs a hand through his hair, undisturbed by its messy result. You can see him biting into his cheeks, trying to select the right words. In the end, all that effort seems unnecessary, because when he speaks, the sentence can’t be any simpler. “Who was the man you spent an hour with last night?”

Wincing, you take a few seconds to process. It’s not about the answer, but his motive, his audacity that irks you. You stand up and speak. This time, your voice is sharp as ice. “That’s none of your business.”

He blinks a few times, so sure of his righteousness, and determined. “You were in my house, at our ball, dancing and talking with strangers and not even glancing in my direction for the better half of the night. I think it’s some of my business.”

“I was by your side for much longer than it is acceptable, Kenobi, do I need to remind you? We danced six times and greeted the majority of guests together.” You’ll not let the truth be ignored. “Any longer than that and there would be rumors all over the society today, and even I would’ve heard about it despite staying here all day. I didn’t come this much by pushing boundaries at every fucking chance I get. I picked my battles, the thing you seem incapable of.”

“So, am I to understand, this thing between us,” The look on his face dares you to deny the existence of it, “is not worth picking?”

This is the possibility that scared you. And for good reason, it seems. You close your eyes, in order to not roll them, and purse your lips. He uses the moment to reach for your arms, like he could appeal for an answer from you. “Don’t you love what we have?”

You couldn’t feel any worse under the warmth of his hands, affection pouring out of them despite the rage in him. “I love what we had.”

“Had?”

“It’s obvious that we can’t keep doing this, is it not?”

Confusion leaves its place to anger once more, for all the wrong reasons and his face darkens. “Oh, I see. You secured yourself a new entertainment, and now you have to get rid of the old one.”

You shrug out of his hold, distancing yourself from him. The source of the problem is not what he claims it to be, and it infuriates you, along with the accusations he taints you with.  “Don't you dare reflect your own degeneration on me like that! It’s not about my damn cousin’s damn friend, it’s about you!” It is nearly a scream, the highest pitch that wouldn’t grab attention. Still, reflectively, you turn your head to the door, which you had luckily locked. “Leave now, you bastard!”

Honoring the part he was assigned in that theatre play, he focuses on the wrong part of the words, the crumbles of information giving him hope, and dim his doubts. “So there's nothing between you and him?”

Seething, you are red with fury, taking a sharp breath, pointing your finger at him like a gun. “Get. Out.” 

“Is there?” 

Your tongue is determined not to let him hear your words, despite the truth in them. It will not lead to any good. 

But so will his closeness.

When did he get so close? 

The moment you look into his ocean eyes, the decision to say anything is deemed impossible. The decision to do anything, actually. His arms cage you against the cluttered table, and yours end up on his chest, though without any intention of pushing him away.

“Answer my question, and I will.” 

How could you? How can you be able to resist his utmost sincerity, the desperation in his behaviors and the brutality of his words contrasted in the way he looks at you, the caging without actually touching you. Your suffocation is only a result of your inner turmoil, the desire to spit out the truths, clear his heart and give in to the love he's handing out, but terrified of the places it will take the two of you.  

“I’m waiting, darling.”  You can’t help but watch his perfect lips move, his voice licking your skin. 

You gulp, an action he doesn’t miss, and dares to laugh at it. Obi Wan can see the exact moment your gaze returns to being that of an eris, though the flames remind him of a different time.

A very different time. 

“I hate you.” It is perhaps the most childish thing you’ve ever said in years, and it shows. 

So, that’s his cue to kiss you.

For all your claims, still, he doesn’t miss the small moan you let out, swallowing it with pride. Your soft lips move against his like a habit, anticipating every move and the next, a choreography you both know all too well  albeit in a much swifter tempo. Your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him closer but his stay in the same spot, afraid to disturb you, though gripping the edges hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Though, when he tugs at your bottom lip, asking for more, you grant him that, your tongues joining the dance. You whimper, the action triggering your inhibitions to loosen up, like each second wipes the doubts away. It is a sugared water, only serving to increase the thirst instead of quenching it. So you don't stop drinking it.

Not til you absolutely have to.

“No, you don’t.” 

Two seconds have to pass for you to understand his response. With his breath still warming your cheeks, even brushing them with his nose, yes he dares now, the statement is the undeniable truth.

However, not that you're ready to admit it. He already knows too much, all the things you like, all your weak spots, all of your soul.

“Yes, I- oh” And he's not the one to endure your lies. His fingers delve into your scalp, putting traction into your hair ‘til you have to tilt your head back to release the tension, forcing you to look at him through your lashes. Still, eye contact is not what he seeks, for he has as much a chance of getting lost in it as you. He uses the expanse of skin you offer, and dives in for that specific spot that has your legs going limp. It has two consequences: Firstly, you are stuck between him and the table, the latter supporting you too little that the weight rests almost entirely on his body, every plane of him touching yours. Secondly, the angle puts the mirror in the corner of your sight, and you have a maddening view of what’s happening. It is enough to make old ladies screech and faint, and artists to slave to immortalize the scene.  

“You’re a bastard.” You murmur the last bit of objection, solely for the object of throwing it out of the tip of your tongue. He hears, though quite unbothered, the retort to break you further leaves his mouth readily.

“Call me whatever you want, dear, you’re the one begging for it.”

Of course, you only pant in return. Even when he threatens to nip and bite at the sensitive nerves, you don’t stop him. Furthermore, your calf twists around his as much as it is able in that impossible posture. An invitation.

“And what else would you let me do to you? Would you let me take you to your bed?”

You nod, frantically. “Yes, please Obi Wan- take me”

That’s a sentence straight out of his dreams.

The second your feet touch the ground, both of you gather the ends of your dress, yanking it out to throw it haphazardly on the floor. Your stays and chemise follow the same fate, then it is his jacket and shirt. He taps on your thigh, like he would let you walk the five meter distance between there and the bed, you jump, a little shakily (not that you ever had questions about his strength). Fuck, it excites you how easily and softly he lands you on the edge of it. You reach for his trousers, but he stops you and urges for you to scoot back, and lay down.

Because that’s the best way he can rid you of your shoes and stockings.

Your knees stick together as he works on one foot, and the other. The shoes drop with a loud thud, making you bite your lip, close your eyes for a moment and pray nobody investigates. It’s no wonder that after that small break, your pupils meet once more. How ironic that it is the cause of your concern, and the only solution.

You can feel his fingertips skimming the top of the only clothing left on you. While the touch is stimulating enough, it is the fact that you have to spread your legs a little to allow him to undress you, giving him a view of your wet pussy.

Nothing that he hasn’t seen before, but that doesn’t affect the way you tremble.

Throwing your head back, you let him slide the stretchy fabric down. Slowly. Like his piercing gaze isn’t enough. You’re squirming by the end of it, all thoughts of getting him out of his outfit gone (-or delayed, should you still believe yourself.)

Thankfully, he takes care of it, the sounds of his buttons unfastened echo in the room. 

Though he has no rush to join you. 

You turn your face to search for what's taking him so long, a whine in your throat when he kneels. That's unlike him. 

You feel cold without his body looming over yours. And he has a hard time not to do that, not falling for the flush of red and your hard nipples. Especially when you're so gone that you may come undone just from that.

He'd like to see that. 

But he has to make you understand how you keep him in that state, ignorant of his troubles, even as the solution is obvious and wanted by both sides, however the other can't accept it out of simple stubbornness.

Thus, he plays the deaf now, as he grips the supple flesh of your thighs, squeeze and move as he pleases, exposing your core to air while he busies himself with other parts. He claims you with his lips, mapping out, pushing you down to the mattress every time you jolt because he’s so close just a little to the left- But perhaps the worst is his vulgar taunts, whispered, to himself mostly, a way to speak out the anger.

“Are you this wet for all the men you hate?”

“No.” You cry, not able to stand the accusations. “It’s you.”  And it is the truth. There are no other men on the planet that you would bear being treated like this by, or attempt to change their opinion of you. But now, you need him to know that. You can’t imagine a future with his back always turned to you, or be subject to his very much forced small talk with empty, or worse, hatred filled eyes. It is a reveal of a side of you that you had to keep hidden and downplay, to be free at the end of the day, give both of you an opportunity to walk out, but it doesn’t matter if the said fallout leaves his judgment of you sour. You care about his perception, and would do your best to change it should it be mixed with lies. Truth, and nothing less, is what he deserves.

A wave of relief floods his heart, that simple answer is all he wishes to hear. There’s also a bit of rage, for knowing you’d never admit it in any other circumstance. Alas, the smile appearing on his face is unstoppable. Even as he finally begins to eat you out.

A moan leaves your mouth at the first contact, which is nothing more than a small kiss. That bad, uh? As he licks everything he can reach, it turns into a whine, because it is evident he has no concern about making you cum quickly, or in a normal amount of time. He just continues to do whatever he was doing before, exploring every nook and cranny, and marking, like he intends to commit this moment to his memory. It may not have been his first time, (or the second), but he’s doing it for himself now, your desperation sadly not a priority. You also suspect he’s doing it to drive you mad, using his previous experience and remembering how sensitive you got when his beard rubbed against your skin.

“Obi Wan-“ Your back arches, a hand reaching for his hair. He stops it all by jostling your legs with a hold that could leave imprints. It takes half of your willpower to stay in the place he put you in, and that means you only have the other half to process the indescribable pleasure he’s giving. It is gonna be fast, whether he plans it or not.

“Could you actually throw this away? How can you pick anything else over this?” You knew it would be a hard transition. The magic he created is haunting and ready to jump on you in those dark corners, even after many years. There is no cure for ghosts, after all. The thought now seems impossible, the last thing that could cross your mind. Simply impossible. He emphasizes by nudging your clit, every single movement forcing a sound out of you. “That's right. I’m going to remind you how good we are together, make you feel so good that you'll forget anything but us.” 

The passion in his words scares you, but it would be a lie to say they don't excite you in some way, making your heart flutter in your chest at his devotion and to be able to still feel safe only supported by the honest bond you two have. You chant his name as he smothers himself in your folds, sucking and flicking your raw bundle of nerves. He loves to feel you twitch when you are overwhelmed, but not enough to climax. 

Then, he scrapes your clit with his teeth, and you're gushing, head thrown back, a silent scream in your mouth. The hot lava inside you doesn't cool down, paying its visit to every part of you, making stars explode behind your eyes and body trash against the sheets. To be perfectly honest, he didn't expect this much either, his strong muscles tightened to keep you from closing your legs, a string of curses muttered at the obscenity of it all. As always, your bliss only augments his own, especially at the sight of your essence flowing out of you. He has to drink it all in. Thus, he doesn’t stop, unbothered by the subtle sway of your hips, or the slight tug at his strands. He has no objection to them, on the contrary, he would encourage them if he didn't have to abandon his task to say the words. The slow movements of his tongue create constant stimulation in your already delicate nerves. Your second orgasm crashes you like a clap of thunder, leaves you sobbing and shaking. It uses all the energy in your already spent muscles, wipes every argument from your mind and removes those troubling emotions from your soul. The interesting thing, is that you have no oppositions to the matter. Why would there be? Could there be a sweeter arrangement? Isn’t it better than a dream? You speak the truths, and he worships you. You pay him the respect he deserves, and he tries to honor it in every chance. You don't complete his personality, you enhance it, and in return, he uses everything in his power to make your day better. 

It is not that simple, a voice speaks from the back of your head, but it's too silent to have an importance. 

Likewise, some of his ideas are dismayed just as easily. Pity. He had every intention of taking you from behind, not letting you get away before painting your ass red, and watch you crawl back to him still even when he teased you that badly, but you seem too gone, too weak to lift your hips up. And it is not a big deal anymore, because he's equally excited to have you like this, lying on your back, legs hugging his torso. Like your first time. The parallel is unintentional, but more than welcomed. How much and how little has changed since then? He leans in for a kiss, and fuck, your mouth is greets him too purely, like he's not covered in your slick. There's something more than lust that drives you, evident in the way you move, like you’re carving out a promise on his lips. The sounds that you produce are not in desperation, but gratitude, not weary of the periods of suspense but glad that it is over. His fingers travel the length of your abdomen, all blame on him for the coldness of your skin and the way you shiver. When he circles your nipples with his thumb, you sigh, and press yourself to him. 

“You take care of me like no other, Obi Wan.” You whisper as you cup his cheek. You should’ve told him sooner. It was the least you could do. 

He has no answer, and he doesn’t need one. Holding your wrist at the sides of your head angrily and meeting with your tongue is more than enough of an explanation, just like the one you made a little too late, beautiful controversies. You both are unaware of how your hips rub against each other, without hurry, ‘til his cock catches your entrance. Your breathing becomes erratic, considering you didn’t get a prep or had any in some while, and he’s big. 

“Are you gonna let me in, sweetheart?” 

“I need you.” You almost wail, despite knowing it will be too much. It’s not about pleasing him, either, for these things are not given up as sacrifices, ever. What matters is that you’re together, and that is always good. “Please, I want you.”

Could he ever refuse?

He takes his time, relishing the surrender of your tight walls, and brave noises, replied with his own moans. Your pants are guiding as much as they are troubling, making him even harder. He swears he’s about to burst when you outright sob while he brushes your areolas. Your back raises, an attempt to get his fingers a little higher, and your eyelids flutter close with the movement.

Make no mistake, your face scrunched up in delight is a sight to behold, but he can’t compromise having your eyes closed, sparing him from that glossy, burning gaze you have when he tears you apart. He needs to see them lose all coherent thought, see those doubts fly away and light up with pleasure.

“Look at me, dearest.” Right, aren’t you more than acquainted with his most important wish? He pleads, the softest tone that spilled from his lips tonight. Your heart skips a beat although you’re not exactly capable of processing that information. Needless to say, you don’t oblige to his wish, not when you are so spent. 

Obi Wan groans, his hand flying up to turn your chin. At that moment, all fall silent. You get lost in his stormy eyes, and so does he. Though his cock twitches in your quivering channel, that’s not the point.

“I can’t get enough of you.” He blurts. Then, the other truths demand to be told too.  “I don't like the way they look at you. I don't like how they don't know how blessed they are by your presence. Shit, I hate it when they know it too. I hate to think those who got to memorize you this closely, even those you knew before me.” 

Even those you knew before me. “Obi Wan, you're-” 

“Crazy? I'll admit, I am crazy when it comes to you.” 

“I never-” You have to drown a whimper as he continues his deep, slow strokes, “asked for any of it.”

“Of course, dear. I know, I know it's not you, but them. But I can hardly stop myself from reaching out and pulling you out from their sigh. Or wrap my hands around you, let them see what we share. They wouldn't dare anymore, if they knew the lines you left on my back.” It takes an incredible amount of will not to thrust into you faster, with where his ideas lead him to. “Would you let me mark you from the inside?”

Fuck, why does his words make their way into your heart without ringing those alarm bells you have ready at all times? How does he move past them so easily? 

Or do you let him, and take those rings as a cheery tune of his nearing presence, and not a warning as they must be?

“Yes!” The feeling of him finishing anywhere but in you suddenly sounds so disgusting. You want his warmth, even though you're burning already. 

His lips find yours, kissing you so hard that you'd thought he wanted to silence you. But surely, you know better, that's definitely not the case. You get to drink his sweet moans as his hands envelope you further (like it's possible). In return, he's right there to swallow your gasps, the proof of how you push yourself for him. The rest of the world stops, the urge to fill your lungs no longer necessary, nothing but the rhythm you've created, and clouds you've climbed on. 

He senses your peak before you do and gives you a brief space to breathe, praises falling from his lips that you can't hear, as you shake and let out whimpers, quite loud, for you've grown used to him muffling them. He follows suit, not able to resist your walls clamping down on him, painting your insides with a heavenly moan. 

It takes a second for both of your bearings to return, for the night to evolve into a chilly summer night it was simply meant to be. The coldness is especially remarkable as sweat cools down. A towel wipes them rather quickly, but it's never as warm as having the other around. Your usual remedy, a nightgown, is no use either, even if he helps you put it on. It is such a whiplash that makes you question everything about the last hour. You're left with burning cheeks as he collects your clothes from the floor, hanging them on the divider, then his- but he does the same to them?

“What are you doing?” You croak, a minute of silence for your vocal cords. “I don't cuddle.” That's a harsh sentence, but it's the truth.

“And I don't leave the person I love in the middle of the night to freeze.” He's holding a candle, the only lit candle in the room, and his face is illuminated beyond anything else and it could be said that he is the source of light. 

The person I love. His words break down the last resolve you have, and you're left to figure out how you feel about it as he kills the flame, and slides  into the sheets behind you. You'd think the sensation of his chest pressed to your back would keep you wide awake, but no, it's weirdly new yet familiar, enough to lull to sleep. Also, his scent is mesmerizing, and you never had it this close and constant. 

And for him, he had no trouble whatsoever from the start, but this is far better than expected, that he is sure he is living the best moment of his fate. The softness of you, in his arms, drifting into heavy dreams. It is a treasure for him to see that you can relax beside him, allow him to feel the regularity of breaths, showing your most natural self. 

But the morning is anything like the night.

You wake up from the orange lights of the rising sun, when he gently combs your hair out of your face. There's a fatigue in your muscles, alongside that sweet tinge of pleasure still lingering, making it all bearable. Your skin runs hot where he holds you, your back, your waist, your intertwined legs… The slight prickle of his beard is not pronounced when it's rolling on your shoulder, especially as it's followed by small pecks. He's unable to resist, your intoxicating smell pronounced in the cove of your neck, right under his nose. Only when he feels somewhat satisfied, and you seem a little more conscious, the tonus of your body increasing, he talks. 

You weren't ready for his morning voice.

“Good morning, love.” His hand rises to soothe the redness rising where his chin was pressed. Delicate all over. “I’m afraid I must get going, for both of us’ sake.” 

You give an affirming hum, and swiftly roll out. Your body betrays you without delay, a shiver seizing you, protesting the lack of his heat. You shake your shoulders, not so subtly but it's not like you can cringe. It is your band aid, and you're ripping it out. 

You reach for a robe and put it on rather easily for your questionable nerves and state of mind. 

“Darling?” 

“Yes, you should really get going, Obi Wan.” Fuck, that sounds still more aggressive than you are, or you ever intended, a mirror of the storms in your mind. 

“What's the matter?” He's awfully quick to put on his trousers and come near you once again. He looks into your eyes, unobscured by your hair, and then there's that look of reveal on his face, the point of no return. He says your name, a final plead and a warning.

“You must leave soon.” This time, you’re a little softer, but it is nowhere near normal, considering what you shared.

“You think last night was a mistake.” He’s never sounded colder, and you have to focus not to bite your lip. The stern expression on his face is unbecoming of him, but it’s also a great reflection of his fidelity. Now, the other side of the coin shows itself, with his icy eyes and clenched jaw.

“I never-“ said that. Though, is there any possibility of you explaining what you feel? The doubts, the unfamiliarity of these feelings. Could you say, I’m not sure about this thing in between us, without creating the same effect of his claimed words?

There’s a second of silence, as he’s giving you one last chance to speak up. You know, you know that the moment you try, he’s going to break that heartless look, and put his loving hand out.

“For someone who thinks it was a mistake, you don't seem regretful at all.”

“Because it's not, and I don’t!” The confession is for him, but it is hard on you. But that doesn’t mean you’re willing to repeat it. “But it can become one. This has to stop. We can’t go further than this.”

“Why?” He’s trying his best not to raise his voice in this quiet, quiet hour.

“Because this is just- just an infatuation. It will go away. And to remember this time as a good one, we have to be careful, and we’re starting to lose that sense.”

An infatuation. That is the strangest insult he’s ever heard, but the worst nonetheless. An infatuation. The more he repeats the word in his mind, the more his anger grows, with a goal to show you otherwise.

“This is not what happened last night, and you know it.” He was as clear as day, and you honored that likewise. There was no lie. “If this is about you getting pregnant, I swear -”

“No, that's not it.” For once, you show something about the bond you have. “I have no concerns about you, or the whole society, should that happen. I’d even happily move away somewhere nobody knows my name and raise them.” 

Why is that option uttered, when there are far easier choices to make? “You’d rather build a new life than marry me?”

You remain silent once more, owning the coward you are. This is exactly why this wouldn’t work, anyways. He shakes his head, catching himself still thinking of ways to convince you, to work through the problem. He even thinks of walking out of the main door, and running into your father's study, forcing your hand in marriage.

You can see that thought play in his head as his gaze becomes fixated on the door.

"See. That's why.” You beg. “This is just an obsession, and you are maddened with it. You can't see reason, or listen to the sound of it, and I can't watch you make decisions like this. Is this how you actually want to treat me? Blackmail your way into marrying me?”

“So, this is what you think of me.” Blackmail. 

“No, Obi Wan, are you even listening to me?” You cover your face with your hands, a moment to recollect yourself. “Do you know when my next trip is scheduled?” 

Oh. You and your infamous life on the roads. 

“In three days. And do you know I already postponed it once?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we have very different lifestyles, and they are not compatible.”

“Or maybe, you are running from something so long that it has become a habit.”

“I do it because I like it. Because I promised people that I would see them before the end of autumn.” The latter part of your answer is not in your favor, but his, a product of overthinking. You discover that a little too late. He sees it too, along with the fragile curl of your lips, but doesn’t use it against you. Not anymore.

“I wish you a safe trip, then.” That’s the closest you’ve ever gotten to regret your preferences, as he takes a step back, and dresses himself in a blink with perfection. It causes you to feel vulnerable, like his stoic face and impeccable outfit which somehow looks even more put together than yesterday, when he was helped to put it on, paints him like a statue of a Greek god who is putting you on trial.

A trial that you fail.

Yet, by not punishing you, he gives you the worst sentence: Incarceration with your conscience.

[valeskafics]

Incorrect Modern Star Wars Quotes (#6)  

Obi Wan: (in the shower with Y/N)

Anakin: (storms in) So I finally talked to Rex and he said-

Y/N: (to Obi Wan) Does he know I'm here?

Anakin: Yes, hi Y/N. Anyway-

-

(source: "How I Met Your Mother")

[grippingbeskar]

I can't get this out of my mind... Imagine riding Obi Wan. he and you have been apart for a while due to the war and finally he's coming home to the temple to you.

You're in his quarters and he's sitting up with you, leaning his strong back against the wall behind him. Your hands are wrapped around his neck and you look breathlessly at each other, sharing warm and messy kisses. Soft "I love you" 's are coming from the two of you and Obi Wan eventually looks down at his cock slipping in and out of your warm heat "Dear..." he'd gasp and see how your warm pussy is creaming on his cock, you're so needy and wet for him, maybe came already and seek another high.

Sorry 🌚

PLEASE. okay i know you didn’t ask for this, but like i’m writing this down so i don’t put my actual FIST thru a wall bc u have me feeling some type of way. never apologise WOW. idk what this is but i needed to write it down bc WHEEW….

ur mind>>>>> i love u for this.

i need to breathe. sjejdoekxke.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your forehead was pressed against his, his hand on the back of your neck, holding you upright while the other was splayed on the small of your back. You don’t remember how long it’s been, how many minutes or hours have passed, all you can think about— all you can feel is the warmth of his mouth kissing you, tasting you at every possible chance he could while his hand behind you encouraged every roll of your hips, the angle sinking you further down on his cock. Your thighs press against the outside of his, caging him to you as you cling to him wherever your hands can find.

“Stars— I missed you, my love.” He stares into your eyes, obsessed with the strung out glaze that covers them, and you can’t form a reply, instead moaning his name in a breathless whisper, one he swallows hungrily. “That’s it— nice and s-slow.”

He’s had you like this all night, and despite the slow pace it was stirring the most intense feeling of pleasure because of how long he had been fucking you— like he had all the time in the world. Obi-Wan was patient, and when he saw how quickly you fell apart riding him the first time, he knew he’d do anything to see it happen again, and again, and again, even if it meant holding out a little while longer.

“I love you—“ You manage before you need to force yourself to breathe in, the hand on your back wrapping around your hip, rocking you back and forth. Your legs were shaking now, and the way he bent forward off the wall he was leaning on meant you were so close he could rock you forward while his thumb circled your sensitive clit. You nearly jolted out of his grip, choking out another pathetic whimper of his name.

“Shh.” He ducks his head, nudging your head back up to look at him before kissing you softly on the cheek. The gentle touch sent electric pleasure down your body, and you could feel yourself getting closer again, muscles tightening as your hands fisted in his hair.

For the first time, Obi-Wan’s head drops down, watching the way your hips grind forward, and how your bare stomach tightens— but as your head drops too, now his hand isn’t there to hold you up, you see what he’s really staring at.

A part of you wants to hide, to look away, but it’s as alluring to you as it is to him. The way you fit perfectly, like you were made to do just this— how even after possible hours have gone by, you are just as wet and needy for him, just as desperate as when he first walked out of that ship. A week away was too long— an hours council meeting was too damn long.

He was transfixed, jaw slack, both hands working in tandem now to press you closer, guide himself deeper. Everything blurs hazy and white, and you feel your whole body shudder, his two hands— always strong and safe, guiding you through your… you don’t know what number it was, and it didn’t matter. It felt too fucking good to stop, like a never ending high only interrupted by small dips of a downward slope and the need to breathe.

“J-just a little longer.” He rasps, kissing along your neck, and even though your muscles strain and your legs don’t feel attached to your body, you need this as badly as he does. “You can do it, can’t you sweetheart?”

“Mhmm—“ Your breath catches as he gets a little faster, and his eyes never leave where the two of you have joined as he buries himself inside you again and again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

now i’m the one who’s sorry…….. oh my god NANKDWKDJDK

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Kinktober Day 26

Day Twenty-Five | 🌹Kinktober Masterlist🌹 | Day Twenty-Seven

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

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting with ANY of these Kinktober prompts will be blocked

Notes: I'm hecking nervous about this one, too 😅 This uhhh this was not the plan for today. But here we are.

Warnings: Sith Master!Obi-Wan; Sith Apprentice!Reader; Power imbalance; Force-choking; deep-throating; grinding; masturbation; choking (without the Force); degradation

You twist against the bounds of the Force, grunting in frustration. You can’t raise your arm, and you strain to move your fingers, to summon your lightsaber from where it’s fallen just a few feet away. The Force loosens, and you drop to the floor with a groan, wincing as your knees slam against the floor.

“Are you through?”

“No, Master,” You swear.

“Then why are you still on the floor.” 

Obi-Wan’s dismissive tone cut through you, drifting past you toward the door. You curl your hand into fist, pounding it against the floor before you spring up, your hand shooting out. Your lightsaber smacks into your palm, flickering to life as you raise it. Before you can land a proper blow, Obi-Wan’s stops yours. The force of his parry makes you stumble, sending you backward. You regain your footing, raising your lightsaber to strike—but with every blow that he levels, you find yourself forced further and further into playing defense. Your back hits the wall as your lightsaber is knocked from your hand again. You feel the Force pinning your hands to the wall, and your gaze drops to Obi’s hand. It’s slightly extended, and you thrill at the fact that he hardly has to exert himself to restrain you. He loosens his grip again, shaking his head as he heads for the door.

“We’ll resume tomorrow.” 

You push yourself off of the wall, unsteady, but determined. 

“We’re not done,” You argue.

“You won’t win.” 

“Don’t turn your back on me—Coward!” 

You know immediately that it’s a mistake. It stills him in his step, and you find yourself as intrigued as you are panicked. The air seems to crackle as Obi-Wan turns back toward you, his jaw tight, and his dark and eyes narrowed with rage. You open your mouth to speak again, but gasp as pressure closes in around your neck, forcing you against the wall. You fight to keep your eyes on Obi-Wan’s, your irritation giving way to arousal as he silently stalks closer. You force your arms up, trying to summon your lightsaber again, but he knocks your wrist aside.

You swallow thickly, face twisted in frustration you fight against the Force. Obi-Wan stops toe-to-toe with you, his chest brushing yours. His gaze sweeps your face before he leans in. Your eyes lower to eye his dark robes, your breath catching as you feel the tip of his nose brush your cheekbone. 

“Look at you,” He murmurs, tipping his head to the side; the bristle of his beard against your cheek makes your stomach flip. “Pathetic…Weak. It’s almost precious to watch you struggle.”

You shiver as he presses closer, your body going hot at his purred taunts.

“You like it, don’t you,” He adds, his breath brushing against your ear. “I see how you fight for it. I know that you are more powerful than you appear, but you make these…Silly little mistakes. For what? For this?” 

You choke out a moan as you feel the Force tighten for just a moment before it loosens again. Obi-Wan tuts softly, shaking his head. 

“If you challenge me, you need to be ready for all that comes with it. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, Master.” 

“Do you?” He chuckles cruelly. “You can hardly keep your lightsaber in your hand—Ah, ah…” The pressure tightens around your neck again as you try to press closer to him, “Temper, temper.” 

He tips his chin up, staring down his nose at you. 

“What you want…Is beyond the bounds of what you have known. Can you handle what comes with it?” 

“I can, Master.” 

He hums speculatively, nodding slowly. 

“We shall see.” 

--

You can’t breathe. Your throat spasms around Obi-Wan's cock, your nails digging into his thighs as you struggle against the hold that he has on the back of your neck, and the shove of his hips. It’s another blinding, head-splitting moment before he lets you pull away. You draw in a thick, greedy breath, coughing wetly as peer up at Obi, your eyes tearing. He strokes his fingers along your nape, the sweet feeling making your lashes flutter for just a moment—

Until he shoves you back down. Your jaw goes slack, aching from exertion as you take him between your lips again. You press closer, shuffling your knees against the floor as he reclines in his seat. You press your thighs together, savoring the aching throb as you messily swipe your tongue against his thick shaft. You shiver as the top of his boot catches against your clothed, slick pussy, and you can’t help but press slightly against the crinkling leather. He scoffs above you, pressing his leg between your thighs. 

“Look at you,” He coos, “You desperate little slut…Humping my leg like a charhound in heat.” 

You whimper around him, driving your hips forward into the pressure. You bob your head, swirling your tongue messily along the shaft. You brace again as Obi-Wan holds your head down, his groans filling your ears as you struggle and gag. He lets go just long enough for you to catch your breath before immediately pushing you back down. His hips bound up against you, and you aren’t given a word of warning as he cums. You surrender to it, desperately trying to swallow. When you can’t, you draw off of his cock and raise your hand. You gather the spit and cum that have slipped and swipe your fingers through them before sliding your hand beneath your trousers. 

The first slick, heated touch to your clit makes you moan aloud. Obi-Wan hinges forward in the chair and leans over you, spreading the remainder of the mess across your face before sliding his hand around your throat. You press into the hot feeling of his palm and fingers as he squeezes. His gaze is heavy on yours as your eyelids flutter, your hips driving into your touch as you chase the pressure building between your thighs, even as your head seems to throb. His grip tightens, his face twisted into a snarl as you pant desperately. 

“M-More,” You plead, whimpering as you feel the added pressure of the Force beneath his palm. Your mouth parts as you pant, your vision beginning to crowd with spots. 

“Master...Obi—" Your eyes roll into the back of your head, hand faltering as you struggle to draw in a breath—

You fall to the floor as he releases you, your hips jolting as you cum. Your fingers still move on auto-pilot; your head pounds, still reeling from the restraint. You draw in a greedy breath, watching stars dance in your vision as you stare at the ceiling. You swallow thickly as you settle, the blood still roaring in your ears. Your head lolls to the side a touch as you see Obi-Wan stand, and watch him straighten his trousers. He forgoes his tunic as he stands over you, his eyes sweeping down your body. 

“...Dress,” He counsels, “And leave. We’ll resume in the morning.” 

“Yes, Master.”

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