#obi wan x padawan reader

[theatrelove3000]

You’re On Your Own, Kid

This is the first Obi-Wan fic I have posted, let alone let someone other than two close friends read. It took me three months of no time, energy, or inspiration to finish this, but it’s finally done, and I am actually really proud of it. I am thinking about expanding this, depending on the time I have and the inspiration as it comes. Let me know if you like this and want to see more!

Sith! Obi-Wan x former padawan reader

Warnings: I suck at warnings. Uhhh, dark side, mentions of death, maybe manipulation, kissing but only a little, canon violence (dude gets an arm cut off), lightsabers, Sith! Obi. I think that is it. The reader was his padawan but they didn’t start training together until she was already an adult. The reader wears a dress but I don’t think I used pronouns?  Lmk if I missed anything else.

Summary: When your master suddenly falls into the darkness, you are left alone to be subject to the watchful, judging, mistrusting eyes of the Jedi Council. It’s one thing to lose a master, you’ve lost one before Obi. It’s something else to lose the man you love. Especially when you can still hear his whispers. 

Inspired by Taylor Swift’s You’re On Your Own, Kid! Recommend listening while reading this

Three months, two weeks, and six days.

That's how long it's been since you last saw Obi Wan. He'd go on missions that could be that long, or longer, but this time stretch was harder because you know he isn't coming back. Obi Wan is gone. He left the order. He abandoned you. 

At least, that's what you keep telling yourself.

You try to stay upset and hurt about it but it's becoming more difficult by the day. Watching your master walk away from the only home and family he ever knew was a major shock to everyone. He always preached about how the Jedi Order was good, right, and peaceful, yet suddenly, he was gone after causing quite the stir in a council meeting.

He had come back to your shared apartment and marched right over to you, grabbed you by your elbow and drew you into his chest. He was always more physically affectionate with you but this was something different. Something unsettling. He had wrapped you in a tight hug, breathing in the scent of you before dropping his head and whispering one thing in your ear. 

"My chains are broken. The force has freed me."

And then he was gone.

It was explained to you later that your master had fallen and you were to be reassigned to complete your training. You had been set to take your trials for your knighthood in a few weeks but due to Obi Wan's sudden switch to the dark side, they feared you harbored the same beliefs he revealed he had to the council. 

Your new master is… for lack of a better word, an ass. She is your third master. Your first one, who had selected you at a young age, died a few years back. Obi Wan decided to complete your training, since you were just three or four years from knighthood, already an adult. This new master is short and cold and uncaring. You had just been through a rapid and difficult transition and she held no compassion in her eyes, only wariness and dislike. She didn't trust you. 

No one did now. All the friends you had no longer speak to you because they fear you are unstable and dangerous. You never showed signs of leaning into the dark side but because Obi Wan fell, you also must be dark. His apprentice. Only Anakin still speaks to you. Occasionally, Master Yoda invites you to meditate with him as well, though you suspect he is doing so to check on your signature. Master Yoda is a kind and gentle soul but he must be wary. You understand. Sort of. 

It isn't until the heat of summer fades and cool winter winds start to blow that you start to hear him.

My darling.

Little dove.

Sweet one.

Angel.

The terms of endearment your master used to call you whisper through your mind, as though he were right behind you. You feel his presence when you're alone and see him in your dreams. You'd thought if you dreamed of him, they'd be nightmares but they aren't. They're sweet dreams. Almost memories but with slight changes.

Mornings after nightmares when you'd wake in his bed wrapped in his embrace, though he lets his hands wander more. Presses kisses to your neck and shoulders. Messing up on purpose during training so he'd have to wrap his arms around you to fix your form but he stands far closer, holding you tightly to his body. 

You knew you loved him before he left but he never showed signs of returning the feeling. It wasn't until he was gone that the signs appeared. For a while, you thought it was just your mind grieving the loss of him. That is, until he comes to you. 

~~~~~

Anakin manages to convince the council that you need to get out of the temple, take on a mission again. He's always been persuasive, though at first the council wasn't inclined to grant his request. Through many meetings and solid evidence that you're not like Obi Wan, they allow it on the condition that he keeps you in his line of sight at all times. He agrees readily and tells you to pack a bag. 

After explaining the mission, he takes you to Padme so she can help you find a dress. You're attending a gala the senate is holding in order to ease tensions, though with the way the galaxy is now it will only raise them. 

That's how you find yourself standing in a big ballroom wearing a long sleeve, floor length dress. Despite the dress still being modest compared to the other women around you, you still feel exposed. Your Jedi robes leave everything up to imagination but this dress does not. It's more form fitting and accentuates certain parts of your body in a very flattering way, while still being conservative.

"My, my. What have we here? Did you lose your way, Little dove?"

The voice makes you freeze. You spin around, looking for the owner but see no one. You shake your head, hoping to rid yourself of the panic and hope that had appeared with the voice.

"Did you stray too far from home? Do you need help finding the path?"

You know his voice better than you know your own. He's here somewhere. You can feel his eyes on you even if you can't see him.

You turn slightly, searching the crowd for Anakin. He's talking with some of the senators, Padme by his side. He's occupied.

You start walking.

Letting yourself out of the ballroom, you wander through the halls of the massive building the gala is being held in. You had seen a terrace when you first arrived and been escorted in. There it is. You open the doors and step out into the cool night air. 

You don't hear him as he follows you or as he shuts the doors to the terrace. You don't hear him take the last few strides necessary to stand behind you, closing the distance between you. The only sign that you were correct is the feeling of his hands on your hips. They're warm and strong and certain, just as they always were.

"My Little Dove." His greeting is whispered into your hair just above your ear.

"Master-"

"I am not your master any more, my darling." He interrupts you, his voice sending goosebumps down your arms. "I am simply a being you meet in your travels as a pawn in a game your side can't win. I am only a man who has missed you very dearly."

You take a deep breath, praying your voice won't shake as you respond, "you wouldn't have had to miss me if you hadn't gone."

The hum he gives in response is deep, seemingly coming from low in his chest. "It was time for me to go. I hope you can understand. Places to be and people to see, you know."

"You left me. You abandoned me like everyone else." 

He tightens his grip on your hips, fingers digging into them. "I did not abandon you. I never left you, Little Dove. I was always there, always watching. It may have been from a distance but you were never alone."

You try to control your emotions, keep your cool, "Your leaving the Order has shown me I have always been on my own. I didn't choose this life, Obi Wan. It was thrust upon me before I was at an age that I could understand it. I don't remember the sound of my mother's voice. I don't know my father's name."

"I didn't choose it either, darling. Very few of us did. To be entirely honest with you, I dreamed of leaving and yet I stayed. Do you know why, my Little Dove?" His fingers are tracing up your sides delicately, never straying into areas he has not gained permission to touch. 

Your voice cracks a bit as you respond, "Why, Obi?"

"I stayed because I needed to be around you. Your presence is my vise, your signature is, simply put, addictive to me. It was inappropriate for me to have the feelings I do for you while you trained under me so I kept them at bay as best I could." His nose grazes your temple as he speaks, the edge of his beard lightly scratching your cheekbone as he speaks, "I didn't do as good a job as I thought. Those around us began questioning our relationship. They said horrible things that I will never allow to reach your innocent ears. I could have killed anyone who ever said anything nasty about you. I still can. All you have to do is ask."

Your breathing falters, though you can't tell if it's from fear or shock or something else. If he catches it, he doesn't say a word. "I don't want that. Murder is still wrong, no matter where you stand politically."

"Ah, but don't you see, my Little Dove? I don't wish to kill for political reasons. I kill for you. Anyone who ever hurt you deserves to go."

"You're frightening me, Master," you whisper shakily. He responds by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back against his chest.

"I do not wish for you to fear me, my love. I only want to protect you, to keep you safe. I can continue to do that from afar as I have been these three months. Or… you could come with me." He keeps his voice low, fingers stroking your sides delicately.

"Where? Where would you take me?"

"Home, Little Dove. I will take you home."

You close your eyes, feeling your resolve beginning to crumble. Suddenly the warmth of your former master against your back is gone. You turn and he's nowhere to be seen. The only sign that you did not imagine it is the phantom feeling of his hands on you. 

"All you have to do is call for me, my Little Dove. I'll come to save you from your golden cage." 

Suddenly you hear your name being called. It takes you a moment to register that it's Anakin's voice. He sounds a little worried. You turn all the way around for the first time since stepping onto the balcony. You use the force to open the doors.

"I'm here, Ani"

His head snaps to face you at your voice and he quickly makes his way over to you, "I've been looking everywhere for you! What the hell are you doing out here?"

"It was a little stuffy in there. I just needed some air. I'm sorry if I worried you. I didn't think I'd be gone long." You let him lead you back inside. Instead of taking you back to the ballroom, he escorts you outside where Padme is waiting.

"It's fine. I'm just glad I didn't lose you. That… would not have looked good on me." He laughs a little, rubbing your shoulder comfortingly, "it's time for us to head out. We're going to be escorting the senator to her suite in the hotel and then going to our room."

"Yes, Master Skywalker," you bow slightly dramatically, tone dripping in sarcasm.

He laughs, rolls his eyes at your playfulness and shoves your shoulder as you start walking, both of you flanking Padme. 

~~~~~

And that's how it began.

You start answering him when he whispers into your mind. You didn't even see him that night but you know it was real. Even if it wasn't, you hope that you continue to hear him. You start feeling him as well. You even catch hints of his scent from time to time. Always when you need him the most.

Those moments became more and more common. The weight of arms around you in those few blissful moments between sleep and wakefulness make you think of him. He whispers encouragement as you train with your new master, even the occasional reminder to help you correct your form or a suggestion to make a motion easier for you. He's still helping to train you. Apparently your four years with him didn't make him sick of teaching you.

It's your next off-world mission that starts to cause your foundation to crumble.

Anakin had convinced Master Windu that he could take you off-world with himself and Ahsoka instead of being with your own master. It was a simple mission. Get into the separatist base, steal the information, get out. 

When is anything ever that simple?

Your cover was blown quickly and it doesn't take long to realize this was a trap. You are separated from Anakin and Ahsoka somewhere in the crossfire between your troops and the battle druids. You find yourself in an empty hallway alone, not even a clone behind you.

Looking around, you move back towards the way you came, only to realize you are more than a little lost in this base. You reach out your signature to find Anakin but are met with a different signature. Another, more familiar one.

Obi Wan.

Before you can take a moment to think it through, you're running towards it. You chase the warm, blue signature you've grown oh so attached to deeper into the base. When you reach a door that you can feel him behind, you pause. Pressing your palm flat against the cool metal, you reach out again. Reaching for him. He responds by tangling his signature with yours, but doesn't open the door. You hear a click and realize it's the lock. He unlocked the door. The door still doesn't open. He's giving you the choice. It almost makes you cry.

He is giving you the option to reach him. He isn't forcing you into anything, simply waiting to see how you decide. The Order never does that. All they do is command and demand and give expectations to meet. It's exhausting. You're tired. You miss him. 

"Obi?" You whisper to the door. As a response, you hear a small thud on the door as he presses his hand to it where yours is. You can feel the pressure of his power through the door. He whispers your name back to you.

"I'm frightened," you feel your eyes start to water, voice breaking softly, "I just want you."

"I know, my darling. It's alright if you are not ready yet. I'll wait for you. I'll wait an eternity for you." His voice is louder than yours, but not by much. You want to open the door but can't bring yourself to do it. He can feel it. You know he can. His signature brushes over yours gently again, soothing you. He was always good at that.

"I have to go, Master. I'm sorry. I need to find Anakin." 

"It's alright, Little Dove. I'll be with you. Always."

You nod and take another moment of weakness before pulling away and running the way you came. It takes you twenty minutes to find Anakin and Ahsoka again. As you reappear, Ahsoka crashes into you, hugging you tight.

"Are you okay!? Your comms weren't working. We've been calling you and sent troops to find you but we couldn't! What happened? Where did you go?"

You push Ahsoka back to look her into her eyes, holding her shoulders. "It's okay. I'm fine. I got lost in the hallways. The droids were coming from that way so I handled it. I just got confused on my way back to you. All the halls look so similar."

You try cracking a joke as you notice Anakin watching you cautiously. He knows something. Looking over, you cast what you hope is a charming smile in his direction. He nods and gives a small smile in return but still looks concerned, though you can't tell if it's for you or because of you. 

When you return to the Temple, the council convenes to be briefed on the mission. Anakin credits you with destroying a majority of the Droid squadron within the base. The council seems to be a mixture of impressed and put off by this news. You're not surprised.

You feel nothing for them anymore. They don't do anything but cause more problems for you and those around you. Most Jedi would say the most dangerous feeling to have is hatred. Some say anger. Others will tell you that hope is the worst thing to feel, especially in this war.

No. The most dangerous thing a Jedi can feel is indifference. Indifference causes one to not have loyalty to those they have been sworn to. With anger or hatred or even hope, it shows one still feels attached to something. With indifference, it is not so.

Your indifference is what Obi Wan was waiting for. 

~~~~~

The next mission you are sent on is the one that sends you over the edge. 

It's another gala you are to attend, this time undercover as a senator's aid. The moment you arrive, you reach out for Obi Wan. You search the room with your eyes and your signature, praying to the Maker that he is there.

As the evening progresses, you stop looking for him. You become distracted by doing your job, working the crowd and getting more information you've been sent to collect. Though the council has seemed to develop more trust in you over the last couple of months, they don't trust you entirely. You have another Jedi with you to keep an eye on you. You don't remember his name, and it doesn't particularly matter to you anyway. He's just a security measure to protect the Order. 

"Pardon me for interrupting, Senator Gunray. I was hoping I might ask this lovely young lady for this dance." His voice drips across your ears like bacta over a burn. Your posture relaxes as the senator you were speaking with bows out gracefully, promising to speak with you again later.

You turn and finally see the man you've dreamt of for five whole months, though if you're honest, it's been longer than that. He looks dashing in his white suit and cape. As your eyes trail up from his chest, you catch the hairs of his auburn beard lift as he smiles at you. You see that smile next, the shining and slightly arrogant one you grew used to throughout your few years of training with him.

He reserves this smile for you. The one that shows his pride but also a glimmer of praise for you. He softens whenever he sees you, even if it's isn't noticeable to anyone else. It always was to you. He was a good and kind master, but a better friend. In this smile, you see your friend. 

You raise your eyes to meet his and your breath catches. The cerulean ocean you are used to seeing is gone, replaced by molten gold, framed by dark lashes, which seem darker than they used to. Maybe it's just your imagination.

"Remember to breathe, Little Dove. I fear you will pass out if you don't."

You let out a small huff of a laugh as you smile and glance down to your feet. You see him lift his hand to under your chin, raising your eyes back to his. You can see him searching your face for something. He must find it or you are imagining it because he draws away again, offering you his arm to take.

"I believe I offered you a dance, my love. May I have one?"

"Yes, my lord." He leads you out onto the floor. A waltz starts not long after he pulls you into position. As you dance, he keeps you closer to his body than the other partners on the floor. You don't mind, letting yourself melt into his arms for the first time in several months.

Obi Wan was the one who taught you to dance. He had been trying to help you learn to make your movements smoother, more choreographed as you dueled. You kept making jagged, uncoordinated movements that caused you to lose your footing or leave an open spot for someone to strike. Obi had taken your Saber, tossed it and his own to the side, then pulled you in gently. He kept a respectable amount of space between you as he placed your hand on his shoulder and his own on your waist, holding your opposite hand. And he taught you to dance. Slowly, you got the hang of it and he moved back into the forms you were learning. You never lost to him in a duel again.

The dance sessions became almost a regular occurrence. He'd hug you when you were upset and slowly rock you, letting it turn into a silly little dance to make you smile and giggle. He'd kiss your head and twirl you just to make you squeal or blush. Those are his fondest memories of being in the order.

"I have a question for you, Darling."

"I will answer anything you ask of me, Darth Nighte," you respond without hesitation.

He grins widely and lets out a laugh. "You always have, haven't you? My good girl."

You blush slightly and look away from him to hide it. He doesn't like that. He lifts your chin again and raises an eyebrow, warning you not to look away again. 

"Did you pick this gown to get someone's attention?" He says it in a teasing tone but you know what he is asking. Is the dress for him?

The dress you selected for the gala was bought with what little you had saved over the years. You had gone out into the city on one of your rare days off to buy it. It was in the shop window and you'd asked to try it on. It was a long sleeved, dark blue dress with tiny gems to make it appear as though you were a part of the evening sky. It's a bit lower cut in the bust than you thought you'd be comfortable with but seeing the way he admires it, you know it was the right decision.

"I must confess, my lord. I fear I am no longer a good Jedi. You see, I find myself disagreeing with the rules and growing agitated trying to suppress my emotions. It feels like I'm being pulled down a different, new path. I can't stand the rule against attachments. I have found that attachments only make you stronger. Maybe that is what they are afraid of…" you trail off as you realize how much you spoke but he holds your eye contact and nods for you to continue. "I have found myself deeply attached to a lord at this very party and I had hoped he'd find the dress pleasing."

"I'm sure he does, my darling. Do I know this lord, do you think?" He knows. He always does.

You smile and glance around as though making sure no one was listening, "I think you know him very well, my lord." 

"Then I suppose I'll leave you to him." He starts to release you but you grip onto him tighter. He laughs again, a sound you truly and sorely missed.

Together, you and Obi Wan danced for several more songs. You talk occasionally but mostly bask in the comfort you bring each other. As the night dwindles on and draws to a close, you know you have a decision to make. A path to choose.

Obi Wan senses your panic and turmoil. He searches your eyes again before leading you off the dance floor to a little alcove on the side of the ballroom. He presses you back against the wall and lets his body tower over yours. 

"My angel, you do not have to do anything you don't wish to. I don't intend to steal you away and hide you from the galaxy. It is your decision. This is your life. Lead it how you wish to. No matter what you decide, I will always love and support you. Even if I must do so from afar." He leans down and presses his forehead to yours. You can feel the love in his signature. True love. Pure love. How can a feeling so pure be so bad? 

Lifting your chin slightly, you let your nose brush his and hear his quick intake of breath. He leans further into you slowly, giving you time to pull away from him. To say no.

You never will.

He lets his lips brush yours. It's gentle, simple, peaceful. He lets you decide how to proceed. Slowly, your hands move from where you had pressed them to his chest up into his hair to pull him closer. He hums in pleasure and pushes you further into the alcove. He kisses you the way you imagined he would. Gentle but dominant. Kind but leading. Persuasive. The Great Negotiator, indeed.

You pull away first, needing to breathe. He lets you go but keeps his forehead against yours. 

"Obi?" You whisper to him.

"Sweet One?" He responds.

"Am I ready now?"

"That, my dearest little dove, is not a question I can answer for you."

You nod, feeling the tears form. His hand is holding your cheek and jaw on one side. He can feel when they start to fall. He coos gently and pulls you into his chest, whispering reassurances and words of love.

"I don't want you to go again. It hurts when you go, my Obi." You mutter through the tears. Obi Wan pulls away enough to hold your face with both hands.

"I don't have to. You can come with me, Darling. I have a place for us. It's safe and quiet and peaceful. It's perfect. I made sure it's perfect for you. All you have to do is say yes. Little Dove, you can stay with me. Come with me."

His voice isn't commanding or ordering you. It's… begging. He's begging you to stay with him.

Sniffling and wiping your eyes, you look up at his eyes. They're no longer gold the way they were before. They're darker now. Green. Your breathing picks up as you kiss him again. It's a soft, quick kiss. He reciprocates, waiting for your decision.

"Home?" You ask him. He smiles against your lips and nods.

"Home." 

"Obi Wan. Take me home."

The burst of joy in his signature is more than enough to convince you that this was the right decision. He kisses you fiercely before retreating and standing up straight. A lord once again. Offering you his arm, he leads you back into the public eye.

As he escorts you through the front doors of the building and towards the hanger, you are stopped by a voice yelling your name. Your Jedi babysitter. You forgot about him. Obi Wan stiffens as he hears it as well, turning his head just enough to see the man behind you. You try to keep going but Obi Wan has stopped. Your panic is beginning to rise again. You'll never be free.

"You are to return to the Temple with me immediately, Young Padawan. This is not a debate."

"I-" 

"My apologies, Jedi, but I believe she has made her decision." Obi Wan's voice is calm but there is a hint of a threat in it. He's daring the man to oppose him.

"I'm sorry, Senator, but that will not be happening. She has been asked to return to the Temple."

"Senator? Do you hear that, my darling? Senator. The level of disrespect tossed about by the Order is truly insulting. He doesn't even know my name."

You keep your eyes on Obi, pleading with him through your signature to just take you and go. In your bones, you knew it wouldn't be this easy. If only.

Obi Wan turns and the Jedi recognizes him. His eyes, now returned to gold, are a dead giveaway. The Jedi draws his weapon and beckons you over, holding his hand out as he calls your name again. 

"This man is not who you think he is, Padawan. Come with me." He reaches for you again but you take a step back, closer to Obi Wan. 

"Maybe I'm not who you thought I was, Master. Or… I think perhaps I am." Glancing up at Obi, you see him watching you with curiosity and… hope. You haven't seen hope in so long you almost don't recognize it. 

Your Obi nods at you, just once, and takes a step back. The Jedi is gazing at the both of you with confusion and horror as you look at Obi Wan.

"I told you already, Little Dove. This is your decision. No one can make it for you." His voice calms you. There's no malice in it when he directs it at you.

"He's trying to trick you, Padawan. It's time to go now." The Jedi got close enough to grab your wrist and begin to pull you away. The moment he touches you, your lightsaber is in your hand and the Jedi is screaming. You open your eyes and see the man's arm on the ground between you. His lightsaber falls from his other hand and Obi Wan comes to pick it up. You feel your hands shaking as you watch him replace the Jedi's Saber on his belt before reaching a hand out to you. 

"Are you ready now, darling?"

You look between Obi's hand and the man's arm and then at the blood on your gown. You take Obi Wan's hand and leave the Jedi kneeling on the ground of the hanger as you're taken onto your love's ship. He sits you down and pulls off his cape, draping it over you. It's heavier than it looked. He helps to strap you into the co-pilot seat before getting into the pilot seat.

As the ship lifts off, you catch a reflection in the glass of the cockpit window. Your eyes are surrounded by a ring of gold.

You feel Obi Wan take your hand as you reach hyperspace and let him smooth his thumb over your knuckles. You glance up at his beautiful eyes and see they are the blue you missed. You realize something that nearly brings you to tears again. You've been on your own for most of your life, especially when it got hard.

You don't have to be alone anymore. You have your Obi Wan.

~~~~~

@meshlasolus @vi-does-stuff @star-whores-a-new-hoe @turtlelover59 @lowkeyorloki 

[night3owl]

Heyyy there! I saw your requests were open so I was hoping to place one!

Would you be open to possibly writing an Obi-Wan Kenobi x teen/ padawan reader fic that takes place during tcw where they have a really close bond/relationship and it’s just really sweet and cute?

If not, no worries and I hope you have a great rest of your day!! :) <33

A Nice Day Out

A/N: Sorry this took forever lol

Warnings: none i think :)

Word count: 1730

You sit in a classroom, sharing a table with Ahsoka. You were in a class that all padawans have to take, so there was no being able to skip it. Or so you thought. Suddenly your Master, Obi-wan Kenobi, walked into the class and started talking to the knight who is teaching the class, pausing it.

“Padawan (Y/L/N), you’re free to go.” The knight said and nods to your Master. You get up and walk towards Obi-wan, looking back and seeing Ahsoka’s jaw slightly dropped, you give her a smirk and small shrug and continue walking. You reach you Master and he gently puts his hand on your upper back, leading you out of the classroom. Once you reach the hallway you furrow your eyebrows and have a confused look on your face.

“Shouldn’t I be in that class..?” You ask, pointing your thumb towards the classroom.

“Yes, but I’ve excused you from it, I’ll tell you what the lecture is later. Well, a summary of it.” Obi-wan replies with a small smile. He starts walking, “C’mon.”

“Where are we going?” You ask Obi-wan, putting your hands behind your back and following him.

“Patience (Y/N), you’ll see when we get there” Obi-wan replies, earning a nod from you. You walk past a group of younglings and eventually reach the hanger, following Obi-wan into a speeder. He starts it up while you get buckled in, knowing that he can drive a bit fast. He gives you a mock look of betrayal.

“I’m not that bad of a driver”

“At least you aren’t Anakin bad..?” You give him a sheepish look and get a chuckle from him.

Obi-wan gets buckled in and flies the speeder out of the hanger, the wind just barely missing your head. Moments later you’re in a lane filled with various speeders and small ships. You let out a yawn as you realize how tired you are. You rest your head on his shoulder, eyes droopy, as Obi-wan smiles.

“Get some sleep (Y/N), I’ll wake you when we get there.”

-

“(Y/N), we’re here,” Obi-wan slightly shakes you with his hand to wake you up. You immediately get hit with the smell of food and sit up, yawn, and stretch your arms. “C’mon,” Obi-wan unbuckles both of you and gets out of the speeder, you following suit.

“A diner?” You say while walking next to Obi-wan as he nods.

“An old friend owns this place,” Obi-wan says and you hum in response. You both walk into the diner and you look around, hearing a droid yell out to someone in the back. You hear a clink and look over to see a Besalisk.

“Obi-wan!” Dex calls from behind the counter.

“Hello Dex, we’re just here for food” Obi-wan responds with a smile.

“Alright, take a seat, I’ll be right with ya’” Dex walks out of view. You follow Obi-wan to a booth and sit on the opposite side of him, looking out the window. You sense Dex at the table and look at him, giving a small smile.

“Did you get a new padawan Obi-wan? They definitely aren’t Anakin!” Dex asks, making you and Obi-wan chuckle.

“Yes I did, and they definitely are better then Anakin, just don’t tell him I said that.” Obi-wan gives you a small smile.

“Alright, and what would you two like?”

After you two order, a droid comes over with some jawa juice for Obi-wan and a water for you. You both thank the droid and take sips of your drinks.

“What else do you have planned for today?” You ask Obi-wan with an eyebrow raised.

“You’ll see.” He says with a smirk, making you playfully roll your eyes.

You both eat your food and Obi-wan pays. You leave the diner, saying goodbye to Dex. You reach the speeder and you walk to the passenger side, but Obi-wan walks past. You furrow your eyebrows as he stops and turns around to look at you.

“Well come on, we aren’t going back to the temple just yet.” Obi-wan calls and you hurry to his side.

“Where are we going?” You ask as you two walk and you just receive a chuckle. “You aren’t going to tell me, are you?” Your question gets confirmed with a smirk.

After a few minutes of walking you arrive at an soft-serve ice cream parlor. You follow Obi-wan into it and stand next to him, waiting in line.

“What do you want?” Obi-wan asks you, glancing over to you while you’re looking at the menu.

“I dunno, maybe meloorun.?” You say over the course of a minute or two. “What are you gonna get Master?”

“The chai one, of course, it’s my favorite flavor” Obi-wan replies and you hum.

After waiting a few minutes in line you make it to the counter to order, a Kaminoan standing behind it with a smile.

“Welcome to Suni’s Ice Cream, what you like to order?” The Kaminoan asked, looking at you two.

“I would like a Chai cone” Obi-wan replies.

“Alright, one chai cone. And what would your child like?” The Kaminoan confirms.

“Wha?- I’m not- uhhhh” You stutter, you feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“They would like a Meloorun cone” Obi-wan calmly answers for you.

“One Meloorun cone,” The Kaminoan confirms, typing it in on a data pad.

“And that’s it,” Obi-wan says, pulling out his credits.

“Alright, that will be 7.92 credits” the Kaminoan says, putting their hand out. Obi-wan gives the Kaminoan the proper amount of credits and the Kaminoan goes to the back. After a minute the Kaminoan comes back with both of your ice creams. You both grab your ice cream, thank the Kaminoan, and walk out of the shop.

You and your Master walk side-by-side on the sidewalk, eating your ice cream in comfortable silence. Obi-wan leads you back to the speeder as you both finish your cones. You both get in the speeder and Obi-wan starts it up while you put on your seatbelt. The speeder goes upwards and into a lane, going towards the Jedi Temple.

After a few seconds you decide that it’s too quiet and pull out a datapad, connecting it to the speeder. You put on your favorite playlist and put it down. You look over and see Obi-wan dancing in his seat to the music and laugh, soon joining him in his dancing. Time flied while you two vibed in the speeder as you quickly approached the temple. Or Obi-wan was going over the speed limit. Who knows? Obi-wan parks the speeder in the hanger and you jump out, knowing the sun is setting.

You have Obi-wan follow you to the gardens and you make it before the sun fully sets. You both sit on a bench and watch the sun set. You rest your head on his shoulder, savoring this moment. You feel your eyes begin to droop, sleep eventually taking over you again.

-a little bonus thing :)-

“Kid, kid wake up,” You hear a familiar person waking you up. You were in your bed again, Obi-wan put you there last night after you fell asleep.

“Yes Cody?” You sit up and yawn, rubbing the sleep your eyes. You look at your clock, 04:00.

“C’mon, we’re making the general a cake.” He walks to the door.

“Hm? Why?” You ask, still a bit drowsy.

“It’s his birthday,” Cody replies from the doorway. You nod and hum in response, getting up from your bed and following Cody out to the shared common room you have. You see Anakin, Ahsoka, and Rex already out there, caf in their hands. Cody leads you over to the kitchen and hands you your own caf in your favorite mug. You let out a yawn and take a sip.

“Thanks Cody,” You say, knowing he made it since it’s just how you like it. You get a nod and small smile in return.

“What kind of cake are we making?” You ask no one in particular. You get multiple grumbles in response.

“Seriously? No one knows what kind of cake to make for him?” You sigh, taking a gulp of caf.

“Well, none of us really knows what kind of cake he would like, not even me! We usually just go out on his birthday!” Anakin whines, making you think back to yesterday. You hum and get a datapad, ‘chai cake recipe’.

“Aha! I found what to make, he said that chai was his favorite flavor yesterday, so why not bake a chai cake?” You explain to everyone, shrugging. Everyone gathers in the kitchen as you put the recipe up on a hologram.

-

Three cake batter’s later—Anakin tripped and dropped the first one and Cody added way too much butter to the second one—the cake comes out of the oven. You already toothpick tested it so you knew it was baked.

“What type of frosting should we do?” Ahsoka asks, holding up chocolate, vanilla, and cinnamon frosting. Everyone hums in thought.

“We could add caf to the vanilla one, then it would be like a breakfast cake.” Rex states while shrugging and everyone agrees.

By the time it turned 06:00 the cake was cooled, frosted, and decorated. With surprisingly no mess too. You could just barely hear Obi-wan’s alarm go off and then stopping.

“Alright everyone, we got half an hour until Obi-wan comes out, let’s make it quick.” Anakin whispers, taking out a box of decorations from a cabinet.

Everyone speeds around putting up decorations, but also being as quiet as possible. You had managed to get them all up within 20 minutes and had some time to relax, sipping on caf with birthday hats on. Ahsoka could just barely hear Obi-wan walking to his door at exactly 06:30 and signals everyone that he’s coming. Everyone quietly runs to his door, hoping he was still tired and doesn’t sense you with the force since he hasn’t had his caf yet.

“SURPRISE!!” Everyone yells out, making Obi-wan jump back a few inches. Obi-wan looks around the room with a smile on his face as Anakin sneaks around him and puts a hat on his head.

“How long have you five been up? This had to have taken a while.” Obi-wan asks no one in particular. Everyone else looks around.

“Uhhhhhh- at least we have caf?”

[queenie-official]

Judge: He’s responsible for killing children

Me: But your honor, he’s just so baby girl

[floffytofu]

Anakin, Ahsoka & Reader sitting on the bench with defeated look

Obi-Wan : why are the three of you sitting sad like that?

Reader : sit with us so we can tell you

Obi-Wan, sitting down : well?

Anakin : this bench is freshly painted

Obi-Wan : ...

Ahsoka : yeah, they did it to me too

[panic-in-the-multiverse]

Attachment of a Child [part 1]

Pairings: Obi-Wan Kenobi x child!reader (includes Kit Fisto)

Imagine: one of the children in the Jedi temple seems to have formed an attachment to Obi-Wan and follows him around all over the temple whenever he’s there

Warnings: fluff, Obi-Wan hugs, Obi-Wan taking care of a child (that needs a warning for real), Obi accidentally adopted you, otherwise none, I think, it’s just fluff, Not proofread

A/N I couldn’t stop myself from writing this, it just came to me randomly and I had to write it, I don’t even know if it’s good or not I just had to write it bc just imagine Obi-Wan being followed by a child who copies his movements, that’s so adorable 🥰 <3

If you have any ideas for Obi-Wan x padawan!reader (platonic obviously) please feel free to send them to me, I love writing Obi-Wan x padawan

The first time Obi-Wan had stepped into the room filled with younglings after “defeating” Darth Maul, he wasn’t too surprised when he saw all of the children’s eyes light up. Big eyes stared at him with amazement and wonder, as well as curiosity and excitement.

The now Jedi master had gained some kind of fame with the younglings ever since he became a master and defeated a Sith Lord. Not to say that the children didn’t love him before (they sure did), but now they all seemed to look up to him as some sort of war hero. Look at him for wisdom more so than the other masters, Yoda being the exception.

One youngling in particular had taken a shine to the newly made master. You. Obi-Wan had nothing against you, he quite liked taking care of you from time to time, it was a distraction from all the chaos in the galaxy at the moment. He found it rather calming and he would never say no to teaching anyone something new, especially younglings who had the curiosity that could go on for forever. You were no different from those younglings except you didn’t ask your questions (too shy to do it) but rather listened intently to any information Obi-Wan would tell the class. It was one of the reasons why you loved classes with Master Kenobi. He was calm and could talk for hours and had most of the answers to all of your classmates questions (therefore your questions were answered as well, for the most part).

Nights were often spent with the younglings as he told them one of his many stories from another planet. He lulled them to sleep with his calm voice as he talked about facts he picked up from his reading about the planet, or missions he had with Anakin or his former master. Obi-Wan hadn’t stopped you when you crawled up onto his lap, nor did he stop any other of the younglings as they cuddled into the warmth he radiated to their sleepy forms.

More than one time you had been the child to sit on his lap, for some reason the Master nearly always picked you up and placed you on his lap, or he just let you plant yourself on his lap without a single complaint. He knew he made your anxieties calm down as he let you cuddle into his side. If he could help the younglings in any way, he would to the best of his abilities. He was once one himself after all and knew how the life of a youngling could be. The anxiety that could be brought to any of them at any moment if they failed, the strict rules or the doubt they felt, the rumors of danger. Especially with what everyone knew was an upcoming war and the betrayal of Dooku and the death of Darth Maul. Along with those rumors and facts they were supposed to study and become a future Jedi while not forming attachments and nor were they allowed to act on their emotions, especially the fear and anger that they felt. So yes, Obi-Wan would gladly let you sit on his lap if it helped you calm down while he told you and the other children a story before they were supposed to sleep.

It’s safe to say that it wasn’t uncommon for any one in the temple to see any of the younglings run up to Obi-Wan for help, especially if something troubled them. Nor was it uncommon to see you walking beside the master. Which was what happened today.

Obi-Wan had just walked past the room in which you and your classmates had just finished up your first lesson of the day. Some of the younglings had already rushed out of the room before Master Yoda could even finish his sentence, you were one among them. You had felt Obi-Wan’s force signature and you saw him through the slightly opened door walk past the room and you had sprinted out of the room not willing to lose him in the many halls of the temple. Luckily for you the temple was relatively empty at this time in the morning so it didn’t take you too long to find the brown cloak and his auburn hair among those walking the corridors.

The Jedi Master heard small feet sprint towards him but he made no indication of turning around towards the person or to wait for the child to catch up, he already knew it was you, how could he not, he was way too familiar with your force signature. He knew where you were at any time of the day, your force signature rather strong for a child.

If he had turned around he would have seen that you had mimicked his actions. You put your hand behind your back like he had done, you tried to walk in his pace as well as in the same way he walked. This proved quite hard even if the master had slowed down a tad bit for you as he felt you walking beside him, but the long strides were still too fast for a child to catch up entirely to. Any Jedi master that walked past the two of you thought they saw a mini kenobi as you mimicked his every action, even when he rubbed against his beard (even though you didn’t have beard yourself you still did it)

“Hello Master Kenobi” In watching Obi-Wan and trying to mimic him you had completely forgotten to look at where you were going and so you didn’t notice when Obi-Wan stopped in front of Kit Fisto.

“Hello Master Fisto” Kenobi answered politely, giving a smile back towards Master Fisto who gave his signature charming smile. By the time Obi-Wan said that you had looked up and the Nautolan turned towards you as he noticed you standing next to the jedi master you were still mimicking. He studied you for a second, a puzzled look grazed his future before his smile was back.

“And hello to you too youngling, I see you’ve taken a shine to Master Kenobi” A blush spread itself over your cheeks as you got called out by the Jedi in front of you.

The words stumbled out of you as you quietly said “Hello Master Fisto”.

After the words left you, you hid away behind Kenobi's robes not wanting anyone to see your embarrassed state. To this Obi-Wan, like a natural instinct, put his left arm to shield you. Kit Fisto’s reaction to this was what every jedi had told you and Obi-Wan a lot of times before.

“Be careful with the young one Obi-Wan, they might become a bit too attached to you otherwise”

The master like everyone else knew you were already attached towards the master that you hid behind. He could have stopped it all, right there and then, so could Obi-Wan and the rest of the order, but somehow they allowed it, they let it slide by them, if they didn’t see anything then it wasn’t their problem, and if they saw they opted to ignore it. You were like a bright shining cyber crystal in the temple as you cutely followed the auburn haired master around. And it seemed like everyone needed something bright at the moment, with the darker times that were approaching. No, Kit Fisto wouldn’t be the one to stop your attachment towards the newest member of the council, but what he could do was give a warning. He did not want an innocent child or Obi-Wan to fall, not that either of you would, but he could still give the occasional reminders, like Master Windu seemed to give away way too many times.

You were attached, and nothing would stop that. Obi-Wan noticed when he looked down at you, that you were still mimicking his movements. He gave you a fond smile as he studied your stance. You stood in the same posture as him and frankly you looked like a mini him, not that he complained about it, Obi-Wan found it quite amusing how you seemed to want to act like him any chance you got. Not only was it amusing to him but he found it adorable. But so was the thought of every other person in the Jedi temple who had seen you walk after the Jedi master any chance you got since you got old enough to walk.

[meshlasolus]

House Of Memories MASTERLIST

Series Rating: T

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!Reader

Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi reflects on his years, his losses and his gains, his strengths and weaknesses, and in the middle of it all.... you.

If you're a fan, maybe consider buying me a coffee :)

If you'd like to see what the Padawan looks like, come here and here

PLAYLIST

PRINTED BOOK AVAILABLE

-

Episode 1 Episode 20 Episode 39

Episode 2 Episode 21 Episode 40

Episode 3 Episode 22 Epsiode 41

Episode 4 Episode 23 Episode 42

Episode 5 Episode 24 Episode 43

Episode 6 Episode 25 Episode 44

Episode 7. Episode 26 Episode 45

Episode 8 Episode 27 Episode 46

Episode 9 Episode 28 Episode 47

Episode 10 Episode 29 Episode 48

Episode 11 Episode 30 Episode 49

Episode 12 Episode 31 Episode 50

Episode 13. Episode 32. Episode 51

Episode 14 Episode 33. Episode 52

Episode 15 Episode 34. Episode 53

Episode 16 Episode 35 Episode 54

Episode 17 Episode 36. Episode 55

Episode 18 Episode 37 Episode 56

Episode 19 Episode 38 Episode 57

EXECUTE ORDER 66:

PART I PART II PART III FINALE

[thegreatwicked]

Padawan

Padawan

May I proudly present....! My first reader insert, I wrote this for all you lovelies who follow/like/reblog/comment on my stuff. This is for you! Obi-Wan/You/Reader Insert. Master/Padawan, SMUT. SMUT. SMUT. That is all. Or is it? Should I write more???

Summary: After disappearing from your Master for thirteen years, the Clone Wars has brought you back to the same planet and a brush with death back into each other's lives. But you’re not his Padawan anymore, you’re a knight, right? No, you’ll always be his Padawan, and he, your Master.

~~~

He wasn't a fool; he had sensed your presence the moment you set foot on the planet, like a blinding light or the ring of a bell only he could hear. Of course, he could feel you—how could he not? At least, he could feel you for a while, long enough for him to be certain that he didn’t imagine it in a post-battle haze. You were here.

The first time your force signature vanished, his heart skipped a beat, and a cold rush of panic coursed through his veins and a horrible cold weight settled in his stomach, making him feel like he may be sick. Determined and distracted, he abandoned his conversation in a mad sprint. Searching. He tracked down anyone who had been alongside you on the battlefield, questioning them relentlessly, not caring how he came off as slightly unhinged as opposed to his normal calm and stoic manner, but each inquiry was met with disappointment and vacant glances. 

It wasn't until he caught sight of the familiar sight of a blue and white lekku of Ahsoka that a glimmer of hope ignited within him, brighter than any lightsaber. Ahsoka, Anakin’s padawan. She was seemingly unaffected and greeted him with a smile as though she were seeing a dear friend or distant relative, and that in itself was calming. If Ahsoka wasn't distressed, it meant one of two things: either she hadn't heard of your demise, or, more optimistically, you were still alive.

A wave of relief washed over Obi-Wan as Ahsoka confirmed that you were indeed unharmed and engaged in another mission, your paths had briefly crossed long enough for friendly banter involving drinks later. You were not only alive but also hailed as a hero. Your proficiency with the light your orange, lightsaber had garnered admiration, and the news of your success spread across the battlefield.

As he processed this new information, Obi-Wan couldn't shake the questions that haunted him since the day you disappeared, thirteen years ago. What happened? Where had you been? Why had you left without a word? 

Had he been too strict, too distant? He paced in his quarters, the weight of uncertainty pressing on his shoulders. Thirteen years of silence, and now he learned you were not only alive but thriving in the chaos of war. Had he been oblivious to your struggles and triumphs as a padawan? Had he overlooked something crucial?

His distress and confusion fueled his determination to find you, to understand the reasons behind your disappearance. The bond between Padawan and Master was meant to endure, but his had been severed without warning or explanation. The quest for answers became a relentless pursuit, driven by a mix of concern, guilt, and an unyielding desire to reconnect with the one he had lost.

Ilum's gift had bestowed upon you a most unique kyber crystal, weaving the essence of the Force into your arsenal—a radiant burnt orange lightsaber. Obi-Wan swelled with pride, recognizing that your exceptional skills not only ensured your safety but also turned the tide amid battle.

Sharing the tale with Ahsoka, Obi-Wan recounted the moments of uncertainty, the fear that gripped him when the disturbance in the Force signaled potential danger. Ahsoka responded with a knowing smile and a playful eye roll, acknowledging your tendency to dive headfirst into peril and emerge victorious as if it was the only possible outcome. Relief washed over Obi-Wan, mirrored by a grateful grin exchanged with Ahsoka, reassured that you navigated the challenges in your own distinctive way.

“She’s gotten quite good at cloaking, hasn’t she?” And with those words, all his nervous energy fell away.

The reality settled, Obi-Wan marveled at the intricacy of your Force signature concealment. Your mastery of the technique was so impeccable that it eluded even his well-honed Jedi senses. In moments of deep meditation, he attempted to reach out, seeking the familiar touch of your intangible presence, only to encounter a mysterious void. Your cloak, flawlessly executed, had transformed you into a Ghost—a moniker that, suddenly, filled him with pride for your evolving abilities.

Days melted into an endless procession of battles, the smoke of war shrouding the fates of those who entered its domain. Unable to locate you through the Force, Obi-Wan sought solace in updates from Ahsoka and the soldiers who served under your command, the Echo Squadron they were called. 'The Ghost,' a symbol of your evasive prowess, deepened his admiration for the padawan who had become an elusive figure amid the chaos of war.

Despite the promising news, Obi-Wan Kenobi's frustration deepened. Thirteen years had passed since he last saw you, his once-promising Padawan and the silence surrounding your disappearance gnawed at him. Pacing his quarters, he questioned the events that had led to this point. You had excelled in your Jedi trials, proving yourself worthy of knighthood, and yet, without a word, you vanished from his life.

The lack of closure weighed heavily on him. Had he failed you as a master? The memories of your training together, the countless missions you undertook side by side, haunted him. Had he missed something? Obi-Wan couldn't fathom why you chose to sever ties so abruptly and so completely. The bond between a Padawan and a master was meant to transcend time and distance even the Force itself.

His mind danced through potential reasons. Perhaps he had been too stern, too demanding, but he couldn't recall any unresolved conflicts or bitter disagreements. It fueled his restless pacing, so much he thought he might wear a hole in the floor. The war had claimed many, and the unpredictability of life in those times made such disappearances common. Yet, the absence of a farewell, a simple goodbye, perplexed him.

Obi-Wan stopped, staring at the transmission device on his desk. He contemplated reaching out through the Force, attempting to sense your presence, but a lingering doubt held him back. If you wished to remain hidden, he knew the Force would not easily reveal your location.

With a heavy sigh, he admitted to himself that he needed answers. The Jedi Master reluctantly accepted that, without your cooperation, he might never unravel the mystery of your departure. The internal conflict played across his features as he grappled with the uncertainty, the pain of an unanswered question tugging at his Jedi calm. ~~~

 Obi-Wan flickered back into his senses, and he’d had enough, your Force signature, elusive and soft, presented a challenge to pinpoint. Yet, now seemed as opportune a moment as any to seek you out. He anticipated that the moment he reached out, you would sense it, and the possibility lingered that you might vanish as swiftly as you'd appeared. Despite the odds, he had to try.

For days, throughout his search, panic clawed at him as your signature exhibited erratic behavior—flickering, softening, going dim and occasionally blazing intensely. Unsettled, he worried about your well-being. Had something happened with your men or yourself? When news of Echo Squadron’s return came across his com, he decided on a more direct approach. The uncertainty fueled his urgency as he raced through the compound's halls, drawing closer to potential answers.

The revelations unfolded when the heavy blast doors swung open, and a chill gripped Obi-Wan's heart revealing a fractured company of clone troopers stumbling in, wearied from the throes of war.

Amidst the chaos, Obi-Wan's voice cut through the clamor, a determined command in battle's aftermath. 

"You! Where is your Commander?" he bellowed to the nearest trooper. The man, a walking testament to the horrors he'd witnessed, appeared as if he had traversed through realms of death and fire. His gaze held the weight of someone who had glimpsed into the abyss, far beyond the immediate surroundings.

Obi-Wan called to the trooper, attempting to shake him from his trance, but it was evident that shock had claimed the soldier, rendering him useless for any immediate assistance. A surge of frustration gripped Obi-Wan, that familiar icy sensation taking root within him, he could stand it no more. 

"Where is she?" he shouted, his voice cutting through the lingering echoes of combat. Heads turned in response, and a battle-worn trooper, fatigue etched on his face, stepped forward.

"General Kenobi," the trooper addressed him with a weary acknowledgment, capturing Obi-Wan's attention. With practiced discipline, the trooper began to relay the grim news that had been haunting his thoughts.

A surprise attack, swift and ruthless, caught the entire company off guard, unleashing chaos and claiming numerous lives. Amidst the chaos, your unwavering courage emerged as the linchpin that prevented even greater losses. The trooper, his voice tinged with awe, spoke your name with a reverence that echoed through the hushed murmurs of your fellow soldiers. Their expressions carried profound respect, acknowledging the pivotal role you played in turning the tide of the ambush.

The trooper went on to reveal a tale of resilience and determination. The men who managed to return from the battleground owed their lives to you. Your strategic prowess, coupled with an indomitable will, had become the catalyst for the survival of those under your command. The atmosphere grew heavy with gratitude and admiration as the trooper unfolded the narrative, and the unspoken bond between soldiers resonated with the unyielding spirit that defined your leadership.

“Injured?” Obi-wan breathed not wanting to believe it, “How badly?”

The trooper wore a solemn look before explaining; three. You had been hit by three blaster bolts and thrown back in an explosion that you had only barely managed to contain with your force shield, Obi-wan felt as though the breath had been punched out of his lungs. Murmurs of agreement sounded with troopers calling you a hero, and they would go into battle with you any day. 

The trooper initiated the playback of the security holo, and the room was enveloped in the eerie glow of the holographic display. The flickering images revealed a chaotic battlefield, where your orange lightsaber danced in a brilliant display of skill, deflecting blaster bolts and cutting through the air. The scene, however, took a grim turn as the explosion unfolded.

The trooper's narration painted a vivid picture of your unwavering determination. Your face, illuminated by the glow of the lightsaber, displayed a fierce concentration as you called upon the Force. The protective barrier you conjured was a testament to the immense power you harnessed. Smoke, flames, and debris relentlessly assaulted the shield, crashing against it with an intensity that seemed insurmountable.

As the holographic depiction continued, the strain on your shield became evident. Each impact pushed you back, a slow and relentless retreat under the overwhelming assault. The trooper's commentary reflected the increasing tension in the room, capturing the collective breaths held by those witnessing the event. Finally, with a heart-wrenching collapse, the protective barrier gave way, and your motionless form was violently thrown backward by the force of the explosion, resembling a discarded puppet.

The disturbing imagery etched itself into the minds of those present, leaving a haunting impression of the sacrifice you had made for your comrades. The room fell silent as the holographic display faded, and the gravity of the moment lingered in the air.

“Where is she?” Obi-Wan’s voice a hoarse whisper.

The troopers exchanged puzzled glances, their expressions shifting from a state of surprise to one of guarded curiosity. Why did General Kenobi, the renowned Jedi leader, express such concern about the whereabouts of a single Jedi, especially one who hadn't reported directly to him? The very nature of Jedi loyalty was well-known, but this level of interest seemed unusual, especially considering General Kenobi had never spoken your name and had no prior connection with your company.

In the austere world of warrior monks, emotional attachments were often deemed a distraction, a sentiment echoed by the Jedi Code. The troopers, accustomed to the stoic and disciplined demeanor of their Jedi commanders, found it perplexing that General Kenobi, known for his wisdom and strategic brilliance, was showing a level of personal investment that transcended the typical chain of command.

As the trooper spoke, the realization hit Obi-Wan like a sudden gust of cold wind. The men, once indifferent, now wore expressions of awe and respect. He had been the mentor to their leader, the padawan of the legendary General Kenobi, and none of them had been aware. It was a revelation that changed the dynamics within the group.

“I apologize, General Kenobi, we didn’t know.”

Obi-Wan's confusion deepened. How was it possible that you had never spoken of your training under him? He couldn't fathom why you would erase any mention of your master, especially considering the strong bonds that typically formed between Jedi and their mentors.

“What do you mean? Has she never spoken of it?”

The trooper shook his head solemnly. His name had never left your lips. There was no connection with Obi-Wan Kenobi, and your silence regarding your master left him perplexed and troubled. What had transpired to make you erase the very existence of your training and relationship with him from your history? It was a mystery that left him with an unsettling sense of guilt and regret.

Dread settled over Obi-Wan as the clone recounted the events in the medical wing. The last remnants of the company had made it back, battered and bruised, their fallen comrades in tow. However, you were conspicuously absent, having been transported to the medical wing for intensive care due to the injuries you sustained. Without a moment's hesitation, Obi-Wan set his sights on the medical facilities.

In his urgency to find you, Obi-Wan maneuvered through the bustling corridors, barely sparing a glance for those he unintentionally bumped into. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and the low hum of medical machinery. The chaos within the medical wing mirrored the turmoil in Obi-Wan's mind as he scanned the rows of occupied beds and the busy healers tending to the wounded.

He sought your name among the patients but found no trace. Panic tightened its grip on him, as each unoccupied bed intensified his worry. In the organized chaos, Obi-Wan grappled with the fear that he might be too late, that he had lost you in the vast sea of casualties.

"She’s alright. She was moved out of intensive treatment yesterday; she’s recuperating in private quarters on deck five."

Obi-wan's tension eased at Ahsoka's reassurance. The weight that had settled on his shoulders lifted as he absorbed the news. Ahsoka's brief but impactful update became a lifeline, giving him direction in the chaos. Gratitude filled his eyes as he nodded, silently expressing his thanks. The urgency to find you intensified, but now armed with information, he promptly set off towards the turbo-lift, leaving Ahsoka with the unspoken promise that he would find you.

Inside the lift, the monotonous hum did little to alleviate his restlessness, in fact, it made them worse. The usually swift elevators felt unusually slow on this particular day, and he entertained the thought that taking the stairs might have been a faster option. As he impatiently waited unconsciously tapping his boot, the seconds felt like an eternity. When the doors finally opened on the desired floor, he bolted out, the urgency in his steps reflecting as he raced down the corridor. This was the most cardio he’d had in days. His eyes darted around erratically, scanning the room names, and he eventually found yours. 

Adorned next to the door like a beacon, and with a mix of hope and trepidation, he pressed the call button, but only silence answered back. He pushed it again. Then again. And each time the ominous silence was his only response. Mad with anxiety he pushed to override the security lock, a move usually foreign to his respectful nature. 

The door slid open, and his heart stilled, there you were on a sofa bathed in daylight from the small window close to the ceiling. Relief surged through him, but it was fleeting; his heart remained uneasy and it would until he saw some indication that you were truly alive. Striding purposefully, he crossed the room, the force signature around you echoing your weakened condition like a medical monitoring device would communicate a pulse or heartbeat.

The aftermath of battle left its gritty mark across your features—bacta patches firmly affixed your shoulder and upper arm worked to make you whole though the tendrils of bruising could be seen around the borders. The marks on your skin were like a gritty painting, telling the vivid story of explosions, blaster fire, and flying debris. Scratches added rough brushstrokes to your face, tracing the chaotic path of the battlefield. Minor burns left fiery imprints on your neck, marking close encounters with searing heat. Bruises, like somber echoes, formed a mosaic on your arms and hands, narrating the intense dance with projectile-like debris. 

Despite this, you lay in peaceful repose on your side, facing him, eyes closed in sleep; an elusive serenity amidst the chaos of war. Your head was cradled in your arms, one leg casually folded beneath you while the other stretched out, a blanket loosely entwined around your legs and gathered at your waist. As he crouched down to study you, he sought the familiar essence of the padawan he remembered. The passing of thirteen years had left its mark in the longer strands of hair and the refined, soft features that shaped you into a woman, a stark departure from the Padawan he once guided. No longer bound by the apprentice title, you had evolved into a Jedi Knight—a seasoned warrior.

A close call with death, all for the sake of your men who deeply admired you, almost snuffed out your light. But, your command and growing mastery of the Force made him prouder than ever at that moment.

A subtle shift in your sleep saw a strand of your hair falling gently over your face, just over your nose each little breath lifting it slightly, It brought a smile to his face, and for the first time in days, he felt a sense of tranquility, his pulse calming in the warmth of that precious moment. The chaos of the war outside felt distant within the confines of the cozy room.

Unbeknownst to him, his hand had instinctively reached out, delicately brushing the strand of hair away from your face, inadvertently prompting you to stir in your sleep, accompanied by a soft, sleepy groan.

Wakefulness pulled you from the warm embrace of sleep and instinctively you stretched, a grimace of pain crossed your lips as you moved, prompting you to recoil slightly into a ball once more. Then your eyelashes fluttered open gradually met by crystal blue eyes, quickly filling with a storm of fatigue, confusion, and curiosity. 

"Hello, young one," he uttered, his voice a gentle murmur rich with affection, and his smile extended to the corners of his eyes, creating subtle crinkles.

"Obi-Wan?" 

"Yes, it's Obi-Wan."

Was this a dream? It didn't feel like one. You scanned the room, casting a questioning glance at your surroundings and the unfolding reality. Your expression wasn't one of pleasure upon seeing him; instead, it bore confusion and distance, as if you were looking at a stranger. He couldn't ignore the palpable sense of disconnect. Hoping for a misunderstanding, that perhaps you had maintained secrecy for a mission, he observed the passing seconds, realizing it wasn't as simple as that.

"What day is it?" 

Not the question he had expected, but he was so relieved to hear your voice, that it didn’t matter.

"Primday. You've been in medical for two days, released from the intensive treatment wing just yesterday."

Thirteen years melted away, and those familiar, brilliant blue eyes, so kind and warm. Nostalgia washed over you, and you couldn't deny the yearning for the comforting presence of your former master. 

However, as the waves of reminiscence subsided, the reality you'd been avoiding for thirteen years resurfaced. Obi-Wan's knowledge about your condition, coupled with his intense worry, unsettled you, you had to get away from him. Sitting up was a struggle, and as you finally managed to rise, the blanket slipped away, laying bare the toll of battle on your body—a sight that triggered anger, and concern in Obi-Wan's eyes.

A large portion of your left thigh was concealed beneath a sizable bacta patch, and the same superficial injuries that littered the rest of your body continued, it seemed no part of you had been spared, your less-than-optimal state caught him off guard. 

“You should be in a bacta tank! They released you like this?” Obi-Wan was flabbergasted, the worry etched on his face evident. “Come, I’m taking you back to the medical wing.”

“Absolutely not!” Your bold assertion caught him off guard and he stopped, there had only been a handful of times where you had defied your master. You adjusted your tone to a more calm and measured cadence before adding, “The bacta tanks are at capacity, and there are far more injured than I. –I’m fine. Just scratches.”

He blinked rapidly, his concern escalating. “Scratches? These are NOT scratches.” Oblivious to your state of undress, he gestured to your leg. “You were nearly killed! I saw the holo myself!”

Feeling the weight of responsibility on your shoulders, you searched for any excuse to put more space between you and your master. Ignoring his pleas for you to stay put, you tried to stand again, driven by your stubborn nature. It wasn't until Obi-Wan physically stepped in, restraining you, that you finally came to a stop.

“You can't go back like this,” he insisted, “You're in terrible shape, you need time to recover.”

You made a final attempt to push past him, but Obi-Wan wasn't having it. A firm but considerate hand on your chest gently pushed you back, and a wave of discomfort washed over you as the dull throb of your muscles crying out caught up with your exertions. Glancing to the side table, he spotted a hypo syringe, and without hesitation, he reached for it, eager to bring an end to your pain. However, you extended your hand and vehemently shook your head, intensifying his disbelief as you refused pain medication despite the evident discomfort you were in.

“I don’t need it,” you insisted, defiantly rejecting any relief for your pain. Obi-Wan couldn't fathom your refusal, considering the severity of your injuries.

“You were hit by three blaster bolts and blown up, and you refuse pain medicine?” His voice rose unintentionally, a mix of concern and frustration evident. He shook his head in disbelief, disappointed by your seemingly stubborn choices. He set the syringe down and rose turning away from you, hands on his hips trying to make sense of you but you’d never made it easy on him.

“And you expected to make it down the hall, into the turbo life through the halls, and into the squad bay like this?” He gestured vaguely to you and huffed out a breath The internal conflict of caring for someone who refused care etched across his face and he shut his eyes in exasperation. “What am I to do with you?”

The room settled into a calm stillness, and he could feel the Force flowing gently, like a quiet river moving past him. Eager to offer support, he laid a comforting hand on your shoulder, connecting his own Force presence with yours. A tranquil hush filled the space as you both embraced the ancient practice, seeking solace for the aches and pains that lingered.

The room filled with the soothing hum of the Force, a brief moment of relief washing over you like waves tickling at your toes, easing the discomfort. The pain began to melt away, replaced by a comforting warmth. Yet, as soon as you felt his added touch, your eyes snapped open, and you jerked back abruptly cutting off both the Force connection and the physical contact. It was as if you pulled back as if the sensation burned you. Confusion widened his eyes, hurt creasing his handsome features. He lowered his head into his hands, his voice tinged with a tremor of pain as he grappled with the mystery of your sudden distance and coldness toward him.

"What have I done to you?" 

His eyes closed in unbearable agony, and his head bowed forward, hair cascading over his face. 

"How have I wronged you? In what way did I hurt you so profoundly that my own padawan refrains from uttering my name to her company, or anyone else? That she remains a secret, that no one knows she was mine?" 

His?

An ocean of hurt filled those beautiful blue eyes as he looked up, and for the first time, he saw you gaze back at him and actually see him.

"Nothing, you did nothing. Obi-Wan I–" 

Shaking your head, you reached out to him, but this time it was he who recoiled, taking several steps back, attempting to regain control over his faltering composure. Pain welled up within you, the knowledge that you tried to follow what you believed was right, what you were taught was right, and still it had caused harm.

"I must have done something to you for you to treat me this way." His voice carried a hint of indignation now. "Was I too harsh? Unjust? A cruel master? What did I do to make you harbor such hatred towards me?" Hate? 

No, no, no. This was all wrong. What had you done?

"I don't hate you," You pleaded, your voice carrying the weight of regret. "I could never hate you, Obi-Wan."

"Oh? What else am I left to believe? One moment I'm watching you being knighted, the youngest of your clan, my heart swelling with pride at knowing the galaxy will never see another Jedi like you. And the next, you're just gone! No goodbye, no farewells, no communications, nothing. As if the years I trained you were of no consequence, as if the bond that follows a Padawan and Master throughout life meant nothing."

Your heart hurt, and you weren't sure which was more painful: the idea that he thought he had wronged you so much that you hated him, or the realization that you had hurt him and continued to do so.

"That's not what it was." 

Your voice was meek, and you struggled to explain but it felt useless, the damage had ben done, by your hand. You had hoped to avoid this conversation, knowing there was only one inevitable outcome: the loss of your relationship with your master, forever. Yet fate seemed determined to unfold it now.

“Then what? What, padawan?”

As he closed the distance between you, your internal turmoil heightened. You clutched the blanket tighter around yourself, a feeble attempt to shield not just your body but the vulnerability you felt at that moment. 

"Please, don't call me that."

You sank into the protection of the blanket, avoiding the term that carried memories of a time when things were simpler, a time you desperately wanted to distance yourself from. The weight of the past lingered in the air, leaving you exposed and uncertain about the path this conversation would take.

He seemed both confused and offended now. How could such an important name hold such bitterness for you?

“Padawan,” You flinched at hearing him speak the word in what felt like spite, each syllable caressed by his thick Coruscatnti accent.

“Look at me, padawan.” His commanding presence made it difficult to resist, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, you just couldn’t. The last threads of resistance faded when he spoke as he had whenever you were in trouble, “You will obey your Master’s command,” 

Of course, you would. You always would when he called, as instinctive a reaction to you as breathing. Painfully slowly, you looked up eyes still fighting it the whole time hoping he would understand without any further explanation, but stubbornness and snark was something the Great Negotiator was famed for, and he would not be denied any longer. 

As your eyes locked with his, an unexpected vulnerability washed over you, and you felt more naked than you were. It had been more than a decade since you looked into those eyes, yet the magnetic pull was just as potent now as it had been thirteen years ago. You subtly shook your head, silently pleading.

As the seconds passed, realization dawned on him. Your face, colored by shades of shame and embarrassment, betrayed the unspoken truths. The hand reaching up to your temple was the final revelation, leaving you with nothing to do but let him see.

In the jumble of thoughts racing through your interconnected minds, fragments of him surged to the forefront. His deep blue eyes, the warmth of his smile, the soft touch of his hands—all tangled memories, causing a storm within. He saw the moment you grappled with the painful truth: the man you desired could never be truly yours, shackled by the rigid Jedi code and Obi-Wan's unwavering commitment. Faced with this agony, disappearing into the void seemed like the only refuge, a self-imposed exile to shield both of you from inevitable heartache. So, when you had heard Master Yoda speaking of a mission on the other side of the galaxy, you seized the opportunity. Leaving right away? Perfect. Despite hating the choice, it felt like the only way. You’d have done anything to protect him from yourself. 

He understood now, that whenever he uttered "Padawan" the word brought you pain because it was as close as you could ever be. The pain reverberated, and he, peering into your thoughts, could sense it all. As he withdrew, his eyes conveyed not disappointment but a poignant sadness, leaving a lingering ache that cut deeper than any vibroblade could.

The emptiness he left in your thoughts was unbearable. Your head sank into your hands as you whispered apologies—apologies for keeping secrets, for causing him pain, for leaving him, for unintentionally making him believe you were angry or had betrayed him with these unspoken thoughts. The weight of it all overwhelmed you, and grief started to take hold.

"You ran away, for my benefit?" the weight of his words hung heavily in the air. 

With a single nod, you admitted the harsh truth. And what good did it do? The heartbreak you'd been dodging finally caught up with you, but you’d given it one hell of a run.

You could hear him taking a cautious step back as if you were a dangerous threat to him, but then again, weren’t you? The impending void that would stretch between you two loomed now, and it would stretch for far longer than the span of a few years. This was exactly what you'd hoped to avoid—the door opening, him walking away, and leaving behind an emptiness that nothing could fill.

In the aftermath, you'd head back to your company, join your men, skillfully avoid their questions, and bury the sound of his name so deep it might never resurface. No more uttering it, not even in the quiet corners of your mind. The once-warm memories of your kind master guiding you in the Jedi ways would become bittersweet relics, stained by your own choices.

A profound hopelessness settled in as you rested your head against your hands, hair falling like a curtain. You braced for the tears, waiting for the sound of the doors to open and close one final time before you’d let them fall, shutting your eyes tightly to keep them in. Any second now.

However, the doors remained sealed, he was still there. Was he about to scold you? To make you feel more the foolish girl who should have had better control over her stupid emotions? Guess every wound needed a little salt, though, didn’t it? The situation seemed to only get worse and you found yourself wishing that the blast you struggled to hold back might have killed you instead, that you might be spared this pain.

His voice was almost a whisper, prompting you to glance up. "You don’t hate me?"

You shook your head vigorously, "How could I?"

Was there a chance to salvage this? In any way? You struggled to get back on your feet, your movements thwarted by a shooting persistent pain that would sooner see you fail in your attempt to reach him. And stumble you did, barely managing a few steps before you failed, but your master was right there, catching you before you could hit the ground. With his support, you managed to stand, though he still towered over you. His arm wrapped around you, a reassurance that you were safe. This shouldn't be happening, and he should have left, but he stayed. Why? Would this be it? It had to be. 

Giving in to a momentary desire, you let yourself enjoy a small gesture—your fingers slipping through the back of his neck, remembering the softness of his hair. It was shorter now, and although it suited him, you couldn't help but miss the longer locks that used to invite such thoughts.

“What am I to do with you, padawan?”

His choice of words sent a shiver down your spine, but not in the way it used to. There was a strange undertone in his voice, something you hadn't heard before. You had no answers to his question, but it seemed like responses didn't much matter to him. Then, out of the blue, he stooped down and picked you up in his arms, something you'd only dared dream about.

"What're you doing?"

"Taking you to bed, where I can take you properly." 

You froze. What did he say? Could he really mean what you thought he did? There had to be some misunderstanding. Your love-struck brain must be playing tricks on you. Your master wouldn't actually give in to those desires, right? Your blood raced, your heart thundered and your skin tingled as he effortlessly carried you, making your weight seem inconsequential.

The bed, though not exceptionally soft, transformed into the most comforting spot in the galaxy as he tenderly placed you upon it. Kneeling beside you the mattress dipping to accommodate him as well, he cradled your face in his hands, prompting a shaky "Wha-?" from your trembling voice.

"Stubborn girl," his words hung in the air, accompanied by that unforgettable tone, yes, it was slightly critical but there was something else to it. "You're not leaving this bed until you're fully recovered. Understand, Padawan?" Confusion swirled in your mind at hearing his command, but you managed a small nod. "You will obey your master's commands, won't you?" The authoritative tone was unfamiliar, prompting another slow nod from you. "Say it."

"Yes, Master."

"Good girl," he affirmed, drawing closer, and his lips met yours in an unexpectedly ferocious kiss. 

His mouth quickly took control of yours, leaving no room for confusion about what his intentions were when he said ‘take you properly’. It felt like a tempest, threatening to engulf you, carrying you to the darkest depths but after thirteen years of wanting, and needing, the storm could do as it wanted, if he was the storm.

He smelled like blaster fire, adrenaline, smoke, and lightning—the aftermath of the battlefield sticking to him. Mingling with his scent, like the promise of rain, held traces of incense, taking you back to moments meditating in temples and deserts during your years of travel together. It was a smell that whispered safety and felt like home, a unique cologne you'd spend countless credits on. Something you wanted to drown in.

In countless dreams, you'd imagined moments where your master sought you out after hard battles, dangerous missions, or late at night, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you two. You dreamed of clandestine rendezvous with his hand covering your mouth urging you to be quiet. 

Now, it wasn't just a fantasy; it was real. His lips moving against yours, licking at your lips, sucking on the tip of your own tongue, fueled by hunger as intense as that of a starving man, confirmed the reality of the moment.

During your trials, he had worn his beard and mustache, and it had long sparked your carnal curiosity about the sensations they might bring – a persistent tickle or a pleasurable burn? It turned out to be both, exquisitely and painfully so, surpassing the allure of any narcotic. The intensity of his mouth against yours was relentless, lips brushing yours before his tongue entered the equation. It delved into your mouth, leaving your usually sharp mind in a state of struggle, accompanied by shaky moans. Yet, none of it mattered. The moment he pressed himself between your legs, seizing the hem of your shirt, all rational thought vanished. Your hungry mind could only process the overwhelming realization that your master was kissing you, his tongue licking at your mouth, and he was pawing at you, undressing you like your clothes were an unforgivable offense. 

His hands, leaving trails of smoldering embers, intensified the moment, but the euphoria came at a cost. When you moved to discard your shirt, a sharp pain shot through your shoulder, stealing a cry from your lips. Clutching your wound, you fought back the urge to cry.

The sudden sound shattered the enchantment, and his eyes snapped open. He pulled away abruptly, looking as if he were shocked to find himself in this situation with you. Clarity returned to his gaze, and a heavy feeling settled in your stomach as he stepped back, his features clouded with alarm, shaking his head.

"No, we can't," he uttered, releasing you abruptly. In an instant, it was over. A desperate breath escaped you as you reached out, but he vanished.

The urge to scream, cry, or tear down the walls clawed at you, but none of it could change what had just happened. Flopping back on the bed, your shoulder met the mattress with a wince. Anger pulsed through your core, fueled by both the recovering blaster wound and the missed opportunity.

He'd kissed you, and touched you, and just when the promise of something more seemed within reach, it slipped away, leaving a bitter taste of disappointment. The thought of his bare skin against yours, a tantalizing dream, now felt elusive. Despair settled in, but the sudden sound of hurried steps shattered the silence—Obi-Wan's unexpected return.

Before you could fully rise, he gently pressed you back down, his body covering you. His lips sought yours again in a softer, slower kiss, dispelling confusion but introducing a new layer of uncertainty.

He hadn’t left. "Master?" You could barely get the word out before his lips crashed into yours again, a hungry, intense kiss that made you forget about everything—the sudden exit, the unexplained return—all vanished in the heat of the moment. A sharp sting in your arm brought you back, and you pulled away with a surprised 'Ow!' Glancing down, you noticed the hypo-syringe in his hand and the red mark on your arm. "Wha-?"

He came back for another kiss, a hungry and urgent embrace that left you breathless. His tongue teased at your lips, an intrusion you found hard to be angry about. During this heated exchange, he murmured, "I'm sorry," between breathless kisses, his hand entangled in your hair, adding an electrifying thrill to the encounter.

His voice, heavy with sincerity and restraint, trailed down your neck as he continued the assault of hungry kisses. “I don’t want to hurt you,” The tingling sensation from the hypo spread through your body, replacing pain with a welcomed numbness. Now his words made sense – he had injected you with an anesthetic, he wasn’t going anywhere.

"But being gentle is not an option right now," he confessed against your skin, his lips sending shivers down your spine. "And I can't wait any longer."

And neither could you.

His presence enveloped you, a promise to soothe the ache that had haunted you. Rational thoughts and hesitations melted in the passionate exchange, leaving behind an urgent desire for his tongue to dance with yours, to savor the taste of you.

The pain became a distant murmur, overshadowed by the seductive cadence of his armor shedding away. The unmistakable sound of metal parts cascading to the floor filled the air, a harmonious unveiling that played like a haunting melody, laced with the promise of imminent closeness. Each metallic clink and rustle, orchestrated with practiced finesse, blended seamlessly with the mounting heat, composing a sensual symphony that underscored the unfolding intimacy.

"Padawan-” He sounded so full of need. “Have you waited this whole time to touch me, only to just lay there?"

No, you hadn't. Your senses snapped back into focus, and the relentless ache demanded action. Rising up with fiery determination, you seized his lip between your teeth, fingers tangled in his tousled locks. Leg wrapped around his waist, you provocatively thrust your hips into his, stirring a primal hunger. A low, appreciative groan escaped him, and the remaining shreds of restraint evaporated in the scorching intensity of the moment.

“Very good, padawan,” he whispered between searing kisses "Now, tell me what you want. Tell me every craving, every ache you've hidden from your master."

The legendary negotiator, renowned for his poise, eloquence, grace, and dignity in the heat of battle or the midst of a debate, was always portrayed as a polished and composed figure. However, the General Kenobi before you was a stark departure from that image—a persona that sensually grazed your neck with his lips, tenderly explored the curves of your breasts with his hands and moved his hips in a rhythm that ignited an intense passion. This wasn't just the great negotiator; it was the manifestation of a double life—a formidable lover hidden beneath the veneer of a respected leader.

His shorter locks proved to be the perfect handhold, their soft strands entwining with your fingers. The subtle roughness of his beard intensified the already electric atmosphere, adding an extra layer of intensity to the moment. 

In the fiery dance of passion and longing, he'd always preached the power of actions over words. Guided by that intimate lesson, you eagerly set out to unravel the layers of his robes, with a gentle push, he rose back up to stand while you sat on the bed, your hands moving with a fervor fueled by desire. The belt surrendered first, dropping to the ground with a soft thud, the lightsaber noticeably absent, carefully stowed away. Urgently, the ties of his loose robe followed suit in the passionate race to undress him. The linen shirt glided away from his broad shoulders, gracefully descending to the floor, revealing the lush expanse of his bare chest. With unwavering determination, you committed every inch of your master's body to the canvas of your memory, each touch a sensual exploration of his lean, muscled skin, a sensory feast that ignited the flames of desire.

"This." 

Your fingers traced the shape of his already hard length beneath the fabric of his trousers, coaxing a low moan from Obi-Wan against your neck. "Master, I want this." A firm squeeze elicited a shudder, coursing through him as you continued to tease through his clothing. "I want it in my mouth." His breath hitched, and his hips responded eagerly. Slowly untying the laces of his trousers, your hand slipped inside, embracing his him. The guttural groan that escaped him sent warmth rippling through your body. "Between my legs."

Your master's throbbing cock pulsed in your hands, radiating heat against your skin—hard and demanding. Each stroke elicited untamed pleasure, breaking through the disciplined walls the Jedi Order had meticulously built over the decades. The symphony of his responses played out in sensual notes: the quivers across his skin, the ragged gasps, and the vulnerable moans, all orchestrated by your skilled touch. Hypnotized by the power you held over him, you savored every moment, captivated by the way his body reacted to your every movement. How his hips surged forward in a hungry plea as your hand teased and retreated, and then faltered when you squeezed him with deliberate, unhurried strokes. An irresistible urge surged within you, a yearning to fulfill the fantasies that had simmered within your soul for a decade.

“Master, your padawan wants your cock.” 

His hips faltered again at the sheer filth that you spoke of, the way your voice caressed such dirty thoughts, he twitched in your hand and you tried not to moan. Like a siren call you began to dip your head forward, desperate to satisfy the curiosity of how he tasted, your goal so close, a breath away from your lips when it was cruelly ripped away from you. His hand wrapped gently but assertively around your throat giving the softest squeeze that prompted you to rub your thighs together to still the full body shudder. 

“My padawan will learn patience. I asked you to tell me your thoughts, not to carry them out.” 

You wanted to cry, maybe he expected a submissive little padawan.

“Up, further on the bed.” 

He let you go, and you followed his command, scooting back towards the middle of the bed. The intensity of his gaze made it challenging not to tremble. The sight of your master, shirtless, messy hair, swollen lips, and trousers hanging dangerously low on his hips, carried the knowledge that his hard arousal had been in your hands. Knowing you had driven him to that point made obeying his commands a fierce internal struggle. The difficulty only intensified as he knelt on the bed, crawling toward you like a predator closing in on its prey. His eyes held an unfamiliar, burning intensity, setting your own desires ablaze. How was it possible for blue eyes to burn?

His voice, low and commanding, demanded you to lie back, leaving no room for protest. The once-lacy barrier of your panties and bra felt like an unnecessary formality as he leaned over, his arms creating a delicious trap against the bed. Escape wasn't even a consideration, not that you wanted it. He peered at your shoulder, voice holding a hint of soft concern as he asked, "Are you in any pain?" With a shake of your head, A wolfish grin played on his handsome face. "Good. Though, you might when I'm done with you." Oh, stars. Denying you a proper kiss, his tongue traced the trail of desire from your lips down your jaw and neck.

“Going to have to punish you a bit for abandoning your master,” 

What? He was going to punish you? Your heart threatened to burst as his lips drifted down your chest, lavishing every imperfection marring your skin with a sweep of his tongue and a caress of his hands.

Despite having command of the force all your life, the very notion that it may be used against you, that it could be unseen hands acting on Obi-Wan’s will, tearing the rest of your clothes off thrilled you. But he surprised you, it seemed he was more hands-on, the bra you wore was quickly gone and that hot mouth of his found its way to your nipples delicately teasing. Slow and purposeful swipes of his tongue coupled with the soft seal of his lips and the gentle scrape of his teeth made you arch wantonly into his waiting mouth with a whimper. 

Was this what he’d meant about punishment? 

He quickly answered that for you, the gentle vibrations of his moan passing through your teased nipples as he switched from one to treat the other to equal pleasure. 

“Your punishment can wait though,” That eloquently talented tongue of his drew sensual circles that brought a choked sob past your lips. “First, I’m going to take care of my padawan. Make her come for me in all the ways she’s ever dreamed, so she’ll never leave me again,” Your heart skipped a beat, several in fact, “Till her body shakes and she can no longer bear not having my cock in her.” 

He finally released your aching nipples moving down the soft flat expanse of your stomach tongue dipping into your navel. “My powerful,” he kissed your hip, “beautiful,” he sucked on the skin as his fingers tucked into your panties “Sensitive,” and pulled them down your legs. “Neglected,” His breath ghosted over your thigh, tossing the garment aside. “Padawan.” 

Never again would the word Padawan cause you pain, never again would it represent ache and loss and missed opportunities. Your chest rose in shallow breaths and you were fairly certain you were going to have a heart attack. Your eyes fixed on a point on the ceiling before fluttering closed completely, listening to your master's voice, feeling his hot breath on your most delicate body parts. And for a few terrible moments he let you sit there feeling his breath, the occasional brush of his beard on your skin, the anticipation more horrible than a thousand lonely nights with only your fantasies and touch. 

“Master.” You wished you hadn’t sounded so pitiful, so needy and pathetic but you were and you couldn’t help it. Naked on a bed with your master’s breath teasing you between your legs, you were ready to beg. 

“Padawan,” 

The word whispered, barely audible a fraction of eternity passed before you felt the sweetly sinful furnace of his mouth on your lips before his tongue swept past them to taste you. A shrill and sudden intake of breath shattered the stillness of the room, and your hips canted up against his mouth and you cried out in a drawn-out moan. Not in any pain but the desperate tens of thousands of lonely nights where you cried his name in your mind each time you came against your hand. 

His strokes were sweet and slow and left no part of you untouched. You’re lungs seized up momentarily and your brain misfired too many impulses, the instinct to jump away upon the startling contact with his mouth warred the desire to watch him, which also struggled against the urge to seize his hair and beg him to take you right then and there.

All impulses crashed into one another with each broad stroke of his tongue against your pussy, you lay back practically panting desperately trying to remember how to breathe properly, but with every flick of his tongue saw to it that you forgot whatever it was you were trying to remember. 

Your toes curled slightly in shameless pleasure when you felt his fingers stroking your entrance, teasing you with the promise of sublime ecstasy to be had if he would only use his fingers. The very ones calloused from years of wielding a lightsaber now brought blistering pleasure with every touch. The sounds of his breathing intermingled with deep groans as he lapped at you like he was dying of thirst, only adding to the symphony of sex you would play over and over in your head until the end of your days. 

As you lay there losing your mind in the velvet embrace of your master’s mouth, Obi-Wan was studying you, learning your pleasure through each taste, stroke, and flick of the tongue. Committing to memory how you reacted when he licked hard or sucked softly the cadence of your breathing and the buck of your hips, what drew sweet whimpers or unabashed moans. He found a rhythm, long, slow broad strokes, that made you gasp each time no matter how often he did it, you could never get used to it. Followed by the quick teasing flutter of his tongue on your clit, fingers sweeping gently along the length of your lips throwing fuel to the fire he that was beginning to rage out of control. The hot lazy hunger of his mouth was better than anything you’d ever felt and it was impossible to keep your eyes open for any length of time, it just felt so good, as if your brain was struggling to keep up with what was happening it would occasionally rapid-fire messages to you as though you were unaware of exactly what was going on.

‘Master’s mouth is between my legs.’

‘Stars! He’s licking me.’

‘He’s going to make me come!’

Somewhere in the back of your mind you registered the soft sound of a deep and throaty chuckle, the reverberations stole your breath and sidetracked your thoughts.

‘Yes, padawan, you will come for me. Until I grow weary of the noises you make.’

The words played out in your mind as if they came from everywhere echoing off the walls of your thoughts, but when you glanced down, Obi-Wan was focused on you. Not even a teasing expression, his eyes seemed closed in rapture as though he were enjoying an exquisite, delicacy catered to his palette only. And enjoying it thoroughly.

When not dancing teasing touches to your entrance, his hands stroked the inside of your thighs opening your legs further each time, mindful not to agitate your wounds, his touch so delicate that it made your skin tingle with sensitivity. 

It was unbelievable how quickly he’d gotten you so close to cumming but then his voice in your head tell you the most wicked thoughts aided in that considerably. 

Never before did you ever think such a thing would happen, your master hungrily feasting on your pussy. It had to be a dream, it was too good, any moment when you were nearly ready for the rolling torrent of orgasm to crash upon you, you would wake up and cling to the remnants of this dream while hurriedly bringing yourself to climax while muffling any sounds into your pillow.

“No, my padawan, this is no dream. I’m going to make you come for me now.”

His mouth found your clit again, giving it a series of slow licks and gentle, open-mouthed kisses before spreading your lips open giving you no reprieve from that masterful mouth of his. Then he truly went to work on you, stimulating that little bundle of nerves by flicking the tip of his tongue over and over increasing in speed until you could scarcely breathe and your body was writhing on the bed, the moans tumbling from your mouth. Your wails combined with your desperate pleas carried through the room with lick, swirl, and suckle. 

Obi-wan’s voice continued calling to you whispering so many salacious things to you; that he loved how you tasted so sweet to him, “My darling, padawan, your taste is divine, so sweet.” 

That your moans were what he would play in his head when he stroked himself if he couldn’t have you, “Yes, sing for me, tell me how good I’m making you feel,” 

How he knew you were going to strangle his cock when he finally let you have it, “S’going to feel so good when I bury my cock in you, isn’t it? Going to strangle me, aren’t you?” 

How gorgeous you looked like this for him and it was only for him, “So, beautiful all laid out for me, only for me, aren’t you?”

And for each whispered thought in your mind you moaned a ragged “Yes, master! Yes! Yes!”

This was it, he was going to kill you, this was how you would join the living Force, wildly in the throws of orgasm. You couldn’t even manage his name, barely able to utter the first syllable, voice raising in pitch, your body growing rigid as it all culminated towards an exquisite peak. It was the sound of Obi-wan’s half breath, half moan, and the demanding cadence of his order sounding in your mind rising above all other words; the command to come for him, and you did. The thick throaty satisfied moan of a man who wanted to be no other place than between your legs, reverberating through your flesh and raced up your core.

Waves of fire, hotter than any star, more molten than any lightsaber, radiated from your thoroughly stimulated pussy overtaking your body as his mouth worked you over slowly teasing out every ounce of pleasure he could, wringing it from you like water from a rag. 

Repeating the word "Master" like a mantra, a symphony of desire and surrender as you writhed against him. No longer in control, you became a willing captive to the relentless pulses dictated by Obi-Wan. The euphoric journey continued an unending cascade of sensations and shared ecstasy. And it didn’t stop, like a fire it grew more and more intense, shocking you, never before had you experienced sensations like what he was giving you. You just kept coming.

Would it ever stop? The overwhelming wave of pleasure seemed boundless. It was intoxicating, almost too much. As the peak of ecstasy subsided, it left behind little electric shocks of overstimulation with each additional stroke of Obi-Wan's tongue, trying to coax out a little more. The intensity lingered, a sensation that bordered on both pleasure and sweet torment.

The sweet agony of pleasure mixed with the sting of overstimulation was a cruelty of human physiology. You wanted more, a hungry desire pushing him to give you everything. But your body rebelled, aching for a momentary escape from the relentless assault. Your hips wriggled and began to buck trying to throw him off in a wordless plea for him to ease the intensity. Yet, he pressed on, undeterred, as you grappled with the conflicting sensations, lost in the dizzying dance of pleasure and pain.

“Master! Please! No more– I-I can’t!” The way your words sounded so weak and your voice nearly broken seemed to finally reach him and he slowed to a stop, depositing one final deep kiss and drawing an unadulterated moan from you before he finally released your overworked, quivering flesh. 

Your body shivered as he moved up the bed to kiss your lips. The lingering scent and taste of your orgasm clung to his mouth—a mix of sweat and satisfaction, intensified by the unique aroma coming from him. It was potent enough to make you teeter on the brink of another climax, a fortunate secret he remained unaware of.

For some reason you felt like you needed to thank him, which was ridiculous, thank him for what? For giving you the most amazing orgasm you’d ever had? It seemed a bit awkward and out of place but somehow given this new dominant side of your master, he might enjoy that.

He breathed in deeply as if savoring the aftermath of a fulfilling workout. But the look on his face spoke of more than just exertion; it was a blend of delight and contentment.

You, on the other hand, felt a bit like you'd had one too many drinks. The air seemed to swirl around you, and his disheveled hair falling over his face only added to the effect. His smile was downright criminal, it seemed almost unnatural for a man to look so good wearing nothing but a smile.

"Thank you," you mumbled, the word sounding feeble even to your own ears, but Obi-Wan's pleased expression suggested he appreciated the sentiment.

“Did you enjoy that, my little padawan?” The endearment sent a shiver down your spine, and all you could manage was a nod. As his lips met yours once more, a wave of euphoria washed over you. Soft, powerful, firm—his kisses were everything you'd hoped for, stirring desire in every part of your being, and the knowledge that he’s just used that mouth on you made your heart race and your cunt ache.

“Tell me, before I take you, how many?” The question hung between you, a mix of desire and curiosity in Obi-Wan's voice. You were a bit baffled, trying to figure out the context of his question. Orgasms? It wasn’t something you kept tabs on. Sensing your confusion, he clarified, “Men. Lovers. How many?”

An awkward lump formed in your throat as you replied, “None.”

His eyes widened, and he licked his lips. There was a momentary flicker in his expression that could almost be mistaken for anger, but his subsequent fervent return to kissing dispelled that notion. “None? How is that possible? That I am the first to ever touch you like this?”

“The first man.” He froze, his expression shifting to shock at your admission. The truth was, you couldn’t bring yourself to be with a man when the one you desired was out of reach. Women, however...

“I’ve had lovers, just not any men; I didn’t want them.”

“You’ve taken female lovers?” he asked. You nodded, hoping he wouldn’t disapprove. His grin returned, now carrying a wolfish quality, and his mouth found its way back to your breast. His kiss turned fierce, hungry—a prelude to the kind of passion that precedes throwing someone onto a bed and ravishing them.  “Naughty thing,” he murmured. Relief flooded through you, quickly followed by euphoria. “Did you enjoy that? Letting other women touch you?”

"Sometimes." He appeared puzzled, and you nonchalantly shrugged, steering clear of his penetrating gaze. The notion of accepting disappointment felt like a subtle form of judgment.

"Women can be selfish lovers too." The idea of your satisfaction not being guaranteed seemed to trouble him. He shook his head slowly, 'tsking' you, as though imparting guidance on what was and wasn't acceptable.

"That won't do at all," he declared, lowering his lips to yours in a kiss that sent electric shivers down your spine. "I’m going to erase every memory of anyone who’s ever touched you." His tongue danced over your nipple again, barely tasting it and he stopped to savor your little breath. “Going to fuck you until you cry out my name, going to make sure you’re never left wanting again.” With a flick of his tongue, his hand started massaging your other breast, “Would you like that, padawan, for your master to make you feel good?”

“Yes! Please, Master! Please!”

“So respectful when you’ve had your cunt devoured, aren't you?” 

Those words, oh, they hit you in all the right places. You never thought he had it in him—the raw, unfiltered sexuality. Suddenly, you weren't just yearning for his touch; you wanted to be the one to make him quiver and groan, to do to him, what he did to you. To see how your words and caresses could unravel the composed Jedi Master. It wasn't just about fulfilling your own cravings; it was about sharing a dance of passion and exploring uncharted realms of desire together.

Strength surged within you, not the physical kind, but a potent force you had at your command. Calling upon the Force was as natural as breathing, and with a graceful wave of your hand, Obi-Wan found himself unceremoniously tossed onto his back, a look of astonishment etched across his features as if captivated by an unexpected dance. Yes, you had just harnessed the Force against your master.

The sight of your master supine, his bare chest rising and falling with each breath, hair tousled in disarray, trousers precariously low on his hips, and all because you had put him there. His eyes held a mesmerizing blend of surprise and desire, mirroring the emotions flickering within yourself. Seizing the moment before he could recover, you took a daring leap and went in to lay siege.

Obi-Wan, caught off guard by your bold moves, sank into the softness of the bed. Your fingers danced through his hair and beard, jerking his head back to expose his neck, ensuring he wouldn't forget this moment. A low, appreciative purr escaped his chest, silently praising your audacity. With each kiss and playful nip, he seemed to yield to your lead, responding with soft sounds of approval.

You savored the blissful aftermath of victory, those suspended seconds lingering in the air. In that fleeting time, your senses buzzed with playful thoughts, tempting fantasies, and desires long confined. He might have allowed the moment to stretch a bit more, but then came your teasing nips, tracing the spots that made him flinch with delightful sensitivity.

“Want to taste you,” You muttered, fairly certain you hadn’t imagined that little ‘oh.’

"Padawan..." His voice, a touch hoarse, accompanied the journey of your fingers down his ribs and along his toned stomach. Moving closer to the tantalizing waistband of his trousers where your prize awaited you, the desire to feel him in your hand became almost unbearable. Yet, you found justification for a bit more teasing. Fingers dipped just inside the band of his trousers, close enough to feel him twitch and buck at your almost-touches, it was too delicious to only do once.

Perhaps you shouldn't have pushed your luck.

Because, like the fabric of Jedi robes, his patience wore thin. It was then that your Master's restraint snapped, like a stretched cord finally giving way.

In an instant, he grabbed your waist, executing a swift and aggressive flip that left him looming above you, pinning you down on the bed. His body pressed into yours, and a sly grin hinted that the game was about to get a lot more daring. The air hummed with anticipation as he shook his head, capturing your mouth in a kiss that left you breathless.

"What were you thinking, Padawan?" His voice, low and husky, carried a thick layer of desire, each word steeped in need. His intense gaze locked onto yours, silently questioning.

"Touching your master without permission?" 

Stunned. You struggled to form a response, your lips moved, and no words broke free. Was he serious? After the intoxicating dance of his mouth had just brought you to an unparalleled climax, he expected you to ask permission to touch him? It felt absurd.

Questions raced through your mind. Was this some kind of test? A dominance play? Your stomach dropped. Maybe this was the punishment he’d spoken of, an exercise in humility? Searching his cerulean eyes for a hint of jest, the intense atmosphere from before remained, now layered with a different kind of tension. He simply shook his head slightly. The weight of his expectation hung in the room, leaving you torn between the impulse to surrender and the desire to meet his challenge with your own fiery response.

 "Yes, I do. I expect my padawan to remain obedient and respectful, no matter how she hungers." 

His fingers lingered just above your cheek, a subtle reminder of his ability to pluck your thoughts effortlessly, like plucking a flower from the grass. However, you had long since outgrown the status of a padawan, having ascended to the rank of Jedi Knight. If he expected pleading or begging, he was in for disappointment. A steely determination cast a shadow across your features. With narrowed eyes, you threw down a challenge. If he sought access to your mind, you were prepared to offer more than he had bargained for.

A coy smile danced on your lips, causing his own smile to falter ever so slightly. That mischievous glint in your eyes was a familiar precursor to something daring, and you had no intention of disappointing your master in this unexplored realm. Shutting your eyes, you tilted your head, letting his fingers brush against your face, shifting the battleground from the physical to the unseen.

Instead of engaging him through physical means, you chose to confront him on the mental plane, projecting your thoughts with an intensity that demanded attention. He took a sharp breath, caught off guard by the rush of images, thoughts, and sounds hitting him like a brisk breeze. The unexpected depth of your mental communication briefly disrupted the seamless flow of the physical connection.

This wasn't just a subtle act of rebellion; it was a declaration that you were no longer the Padawan he once trained. As a Jedi Knight, you wielded more than just a lightsaber—you possessed a will of your own, armed with a bag of tricks beyond anyone's expectations.

Though he could still address you as Padawan to elicit a reaction, you were so much more. Long-concealed thoughts, years hidden in secrecy, surged forth, intertwining with stolen glances and intimate moments—all now laid bare before Obi-Wan.

A mosaic of self-indulgent pleasures unfolded—whispered calls of his name amid moments of personal bliss. Stolen encounters, and lingering desires, all painted a picture of your yearning. The once-private fantasies, meant for the sanctuary of your thoughts, now exposed—a checklist of desires you had secretly harbored for him.

Breathless, he found himself caught in the private corners of your mind, imagined scenes unfolded, that saw you in a passionate dance, bodies entwined, covered in sweat, exploring countless positions. An insatiable hunger for him, even if he lay prone and exhausted, pleading with him for more.

The many ways you wanted to touch him, to pleasure him, and hear him echo your name as you had cried his— to render him powerless and explore his body until he succumbed to climax after climax and could give no more. 

He shivered with excitement, lost in the fantasy of the intense bliss you painted in his mind. Those throaty moans of pleasure felt so real, almost like he could taste them. Surprised by the raw intensity of your craving to taste him and drink him, he moaned your name in the tangled passion, every drop of his essence landing on your eager tongue as he lay back lost of the haze of sex and stimulation.

It wasn't merely about satisfying him; your desire surpassed that. There was an unquenchable hunger for him to seize control, to witness him unrestrained and consumed by passion and dominance. Whether he threw you onto the bed or pressed you against the wall, positions that brought a delightful twinge of discomfort on your end, all aimed at bringing him ecstasy, standing unassisted became an impossible task. The profound intensity of your yearning unfurled like a revelation, taking him by surprise.

The cat was out of the bag; the secret lay bare. Now, with an untamed glint in his eyes, it seemed you might have ventured into territory beyond your expectations.

"Padawan, my sweet, sinful, Padawan," His lips dipped to your ear, and the warmth of his breath sent shivers down your spine. "Perhaps I should enlighten you with some of MY thoughts."

Composure became a fleeting notion as he placed his hand firmly on your temple and a rush of sensations overwhelmed you, powerful enough that the right touch might send you into another blinding climax, akin to a torrent of whitewater tossing a stick of dry driftwood.

His unfiltered thoughts surged into your mind, a river of forbidden fantasies and suppressed desires. In the shared space of his consciousness, visions unfurled like an intimate tapestry—a clandestine gallery of how he yearned for you, each scene a seductive exploration of passion.

In one vivid fantasy more powerful than your own, you found yourself pressed against the cold metal of a ship's wall, arms held captive overhead by an unseen force naked while he still wore his full robes. Your leg draped over his shoulder, he knelt before you, entirely at the mercy of his desires, and he had none. He skillfully coaxed orgasm after orgasm from your quivering form, every touch and caress hearing you cry out and wail his name until you were hoarse. Overwhelmed by the sensations, until you were rendered speechless, too weak to utter the word "Master" as pleasure consumed your senses.

Then the landscape shifted with your master now behind you, his hands exploring your body with practiced skill. Fingers danced between your legs, teasing your aching clit, perfectly synchronized with the slow, deliberate thrusts of his hips. In the shared intimacy, he praised you, “Such a good girl” and admiring your patience in holding back on coming until he granted permission. His voice, a velvety whisper, encouraged you to hang on, promising to reward your patience but only after he had cum inside you, again.

“You think your desires are greater and darker than my own? So innocent of you…” 

His words hit you like a revelation, unraveling a new side of Obi-Wan Kenobi that forever changed the way you saw him.

Another shift of vision saw you in the High Council Chamber, he sat naked in his seat, his strong thighs spread wide, and there you knelt before him. His hand gripped your hair, guiding his cock down your throat, and you obediently swallowed it all. With a gritty grunt, he demanded you not waste a drop, telling you to swallow all of it, praising your beauty as you served your master on your knees.

Your body pulsed and throbbed with each vision he gave you until the sights, sounds, and sensations grew so powerful all it took was the gentle stroke of his fingers between your legs to set you off. You threw your head back into the bed and moaned as the strength of your orgasm was amplified by your connection to your master as his most private thoughts continued playing in your head.

As he let you go, the fantasies slowly faded, and you found yourself returning to the tangible present. It was like your vision was coming back to focus, bit by bit, from the edges to the center. The room's immediate surroundings started to replace the lingering echoes of those intense daydreams.

In that moment, it was clear—he had won. The sly grin on his face revealed a man who knew he was about to get what he wanted. It was the look of someone who had conquered and was eagerly anticipating claiming their prize.

“Tell me, Padawan, are you ready to ask your master if you can touch him?” 

But there you were, a flicker of fight still dancing in your eyes. Trying to push against him to sit up, that burning desire to kiss him ignited, fueled by a longing to make him yearn for you. You wanted to kindle the flames of passion until he begged for your touch. Yet, your Master had other plans. Suddenly your body refused to cooperate, stubbornly resisting your every attempt. Even the simplest tasks, like wiggling your toes, proved to be impossible.

As your efforts were thwarted, Obi-Wan's grin grew, taking on a dark intensity. His stormy eyes promised something profound, something that transcended the physical. His gaze seemed to revel in the power he held over your immobilized form, piercing through the struggle within.

“Use the Force on your master to tease him, will you? Let us see how you like it?” His lips ghosted over your breast, barely warming your nipple, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. “You will ask permission, Padawan. I can wait.” His mouth enclosed over the hard bud lazily stroking, teeth occasionally grazing as your pathetic little whimpers danced in the air. 

He seemed perfectly content in his torturous teasing, but he had to be aching himself. Had to want to fuck you as badly as you wanted him to fuck you. This wasn’t fair, this wasn’t fair!

"Life is never fair, padawan," he murmured, as if reading the turmoil in your mind. "I had a very different plan for you until you chose to utilize the Force on your master. Now, you'll beg for the privilege to touch me."

His words sent shivers down your spine, and as he continued his fervent exploration, his hands tracing paths on your body that bordered on pain due to the lingering sensitivity from previous climaxes, you couldn't fathom how he remained so composed. The dichotomy of your desperation and his controlled demeanor only added to the maddening allure of the moment.

“You have no idea how much I want to sink my cock into this tight, perfect cunt,” His fingers grazed your lips and you were powerless to stop him, you could barely tremble at his touch. “How badly I want to feel you squeeze my cock, but I’ve not achieved the rank of master without considerable discipline.” 

He returned to your breast sucking harder, as his fingers employed a more delicate touch between your legs, which you were powerless to close, soft, sweet strokes on your thighs, and your lips but cruelly or mercifully avoiding your clit. Your lips trembled at the delicate touch, and in that moment, the unfairness of it all struck you like a tidal wave. 

For years, he had been your mentor, teaching you the art of patience and urging you to play the long game. "Be patient," he would say, "gauge your opponent."

But in the whirlwind of your desires, the very lessons he drilled into you seemed to crumble. Impatience surged, a desperate yearning for instant gratification that clashed with the wise teachings of your master. He offered to fulfill your every desire, promising pleasures beyond imagination. Yet, in your haste to assert newfound power, eager to prove you were more than just his padawan, you discovered there were still lessons for him to teach, more wisdom to share.

Your urgency led to a clash of power dynamics, revealing your master still held the upper hand. A soft sob of frustration escaped, breaking his focused demeanor. His once passionate cerulean eyes now held a glimmer of concern and curiosity as he paused.

"Say the words, padawan," His voice entreated gently, a soft call laced with a plea that tugged at the strings of your stubborn pride. You might have resisted longer if not for the unsaid words that reverberated in the echoes of your mind. "Padawan, please!"

Your eyes shot open, scanning the room for any hint that the desperation in Obi-Wan Kenobi's gaze was just a figment of your imagination. Yet, there it was—a pleading look that intertwined compassion and desire in a delicate dance across his face.

At that moment, it dawned on you: you had won. The silent struggle between you and your former master, the unspoken battle of wills, had reached its conclusion. The walls you'd built around your emotions had crumbled in the face of that unspoken plea. It wasn't about conquest; it was a surrender, and the victory was yours. 

You might be the first to say the words but he was the first to beg.

"Please, Master," Your voice, a sweet melody of desire, reached into the core of his being. His gaze narrowed, and he froze, the invisible bonds around you weakening, his resistance giving way. "Let me touch you, Master," You pleaded sweetly, your words dripping with need. "I want you," You added, turning up the heat until the bonds snapped completely. “Let me taste you, let me have you.”

With their release, he was on your lips again, kissing you with a desperate hunger, untamed and wild. Yet, despite your newfound freedom, you lay still beneath him, a silent presence he couldn't resist. 

"Padawan! Are you going to touch me or not?" 

His outrage was amusing. A playful grin toyed with the corners of your lips, hinting at your delight. 

Feigning innocence, you shot back, "You haven’t given me permission to touch you."

His eyes widened in surprise, a jolt of anticipation coursing through him as a deep, appreciative groan escaped him, acknowledging your skillful play as his Padawan. 

"Darling, please, touch your master," 

With a surge of passion, you seized the moment, fingers seizing his hair with purpose, jerking hard enough that he cried out, a pull that danced on the edge of sweet pain. 

Defying the limits of control, you launched a fervent attack on his lips, reclaiming the kiss with an intensity that screamed desire. Your tongue demanded entry, a forceful and unapologetic dive into the depths of his mouth. A low grunt slipped from him, a mix of surprise and a hint of surrender, adding fuel to the blaze sparking between you. The dance of your intertwined tongues became a symphony of passion, a primal declaration signaling the end of any lingering boundaries.

Your hips rolled into a painfully hard erection, and any trace of Obi-Wan's usual witty banter vanished into the charged air. The playful banter was replaced by a more primal language.

Pushing him onto his back was effortless now; he offered no resistance. Finally. The tension that had once held him captive had melted away into bliss. His half-lidded eyes, lost in a dreamy state, promised memories that would keep you warm for days to come. 

With deliberate intent, you explored every inch of his chest, savoring the taste of his skin. His deep breathing echoed in the room, accompanied by the subtle sounds of contentment that escaped his lips. As your journey continued downward, tracing the path of pleasure, you encountered the nearly pained expression that adorned his face. His chest heaved with anticipation as you approached his trousers, the memory of how close you had been to having him earlier playing in your mind. A grin danced on your lips, fueled by the sharp gasps escaping him, as you mouthed his cock through the fabric.

You couldn't wait to have him, the urgency taking over. The waistband tugged down in a hurry, your mouth watering in anticipation. Your hand wrapped around him, and he stuttered at the touch. His cock, just as perfect as you'd imagined—long, thick, and undeniably eager to be touched—and positively leaking. It felt like the room might collapse when your tongue licked at the pearlescent precum gathering from his weeping cock, you swept around his swollen head, savoring every delicious drop. His hands shook, gripping the bed in an immediate white-knuckled hold. As you kissed it and slowly swallowed the crown of his cock, he howled in ecstasy. The salty taste of him filled your mouth and he wept at the exquisite, wet heat. Jolting with every swirl of your tongue, each lick, and suckle, the delightful vibrations echoing from the back of your throat to his cock.

“Yes!”

His body arched, his signature flickering wildly, and then you truly went to work on him. Wanting to show him exactly how much you had thought of this moment. With each eager motion, you took more of him, brushing off the impending jaw ache. Your master was sprawled on your bed, fervently chanting your name, but coherent words were out of reach. He tasted just perfect, filling your mouth just right. You traced the veins on his cock like an old familiar map, committing every detail to memory. As you slid over his head sucking gently like one would enjoy a sweet treat, his hips surged, and he let out another wild moan of pleasure. 

“Padawan! Padwan! Padawan!” 

But you had more, oh so much more to give him, but you wouldn’t tease him as he had you, you gripped firmly what you couldn’t swallow, and aided by the slickness of your own saliva you stroked and twisted his length in your hand. And your other hand? It didn’t sit idle, no, it reached into his trousers to offer gentle almost tickling caresses to his neglected balls. Lesireuly massaging and softly squeezing. Surely, someone must have heard the moan that tore from his chest, it was primal and almost powerful enough to make you come again. 

The flood of sensations overwhelmed him, a storm of desire and vulnerability that left him at a loss for words. Normally eloquent, his tongue now stumbled in this unfamiliar territory. His disciplined mind, usually a stronghold of wisdom, faltered under the onslaught of passion. Every muscle rebelled against his rational commands, caught in a moment of indecision the muscles of his stomach flexed and contracted wildly. The composed master was briefly overshadowed by raw, primal forces, his tense muscles reflecting the battle of a man surrendering control to overwhelming desire. He became a disheveled mess, mouth hanging open, eyes wide and then tightly shut, breath hitching in short, irregular gasps as if he kept forgetting how to breathe smoothly. His lips clumsily grazed the edge of words, catching and then losing them amidst the whirlwind of sensations.

“Oh! Maker!”

Oh, another word? Impressive. His disciplined nature must be paying off. Using the last bit of strength he had, he propped himself up on his elbows, determined not to miss the spectacle. There you were, between his legs, your lips wrapped around his cock, all slick with your saliva, disappearing into your mouth. It hit the back of your throat in a way that made him shudder from head to toe. He could watch you do that for as long as the stars lit up the sky. It was something else—beautiful, the way you handled his cock like his pleasure belonged to you.

You were determined to extract every ounce of pleasure from him, poised to take him to the brink, so close to tasting him completely, but your mission hit a pause when his hand gently grasped your jaw, urging you to meet his gaze. His needy “Please,” didn’t go unnoticed either. A slender strand of saliva linked your lips to his throbbing length, and the disbelief in his eyes was palpable. It was as if he couldn't fathom witnessing what lay before him. A ragged breath escaped him, followed by a hard swallow. Redirecting your attention from his pulsating, slick arousal, he steered you into a deep, passionate kiss, one you didn't resist.

“Darling, enough foreplay. I need to feel you on my cock. Tell me that’s what you want.” 

His eyes sparkled when you whispered, "I want it, Master," with desire glowing in your own. It made you wonder if anyone had ever been so upfront with him, if anyone had looked into those captivating eyes and just said, "I want you." Had he ever known how it felt to be so openly desired before?

"Good girl, now, up you get." 

He effortlessly lifted you onto his lap, surprising you even more because he didn't employ the Force; it was the strength of his own muscles at play. Observing them flex and shift beneath his skin was nearly as gratifying as witnessing him in the throes of pleasure. He held you over his lap for a moment, lips tangling with yours, muttering against them. 

“Look at me, want to see you properly.”

How could you ignore a request like that? Oh, no, you couldn’t. And with a nod from you, he began to release you.

Never had anything felt as exquisite as the moment his cock slid effortlessly into your pussy. The sensation of that satisfying first stretch surpassed any pleasure you had ever known—far superior to the touch of your own fingers, toys, or any previous lover. As gravity took its course, guiding you down onto him, there was nothing left to say or do. Your head rolled back and you moaned his name. His chest rose and fell with measured breaths, every ounce of strength dedicated to maintaining control. Surprisingly, his energy remained entirely serene.

The experience was a symphony of wetness, heat, tightness, and perfect slickness. His arms enveloped you, pulling you close, mirroring the way you squeezed his cock. It was perfect. You would ache for this later, he was right, you’d be sore to the touch everywhere he’d touched you but it would be worth it for the exquisite ecstasy you felt right now.

Damn the code, to hell with forbidden attachments; the High Council could go up in flames for all you cared. In this moment, he belonged to you—every inch of him. His response to your body defied description. He was unequivocally yours.

He uttered your name, his mouth tracing up your neck in search of your lips. "Darling, kiss me."

Not padawan, not master. He called you by your name.

Your lips met his, as he’d asked, sweetly, gently as lovers did. The high of shoving your tongue into hi mouth was wonderful but not so wonderful as this simple brushing of lips the added heat and girth of his cock buried in you, there were no more barriers. You kissed him like that for a few minutes until your cunt throbbed demanding more, then you shifted, rising up savoring the way his lips parted in shock before sliding back down slow enough you could see his eyelashes flutter. “Again,” His voice was so full of need and heat, how could you deny him? The warmth of his breath against your skin was like a balm, soothing every ache, alleviating every burden, and imparting tranquility to long-standing wounds.

As his arms encircled your legs, lifting you up to help you along, a surge of emotions overwhelmed you. The dichotomy of wanting to sing or cry left you unable to suppress the whimper rising in the back of your throat. His name escaped your lips again.

His arms held you securely, and he buried his face in your neck, releasing a deeply contented breath. With deliberate slowness, he began to thrust upward. Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling him up for another smoldering kiss, swallowing his moan.

Passion surged like wildfire between you and the man you had yearned for over the years. The connection between your bodies was intense, each thrust an urgent proclamation of desire. The air was thick with the mingling of hot breaths, punctuated by the sound of lewdly slapping skin and fervent kisses exchanged in the throes of lust.

His movements were powerful and rhythmic, and left you gasping for more, all you could do was hang on. With every thrust, he hit that perfect angle that sent shivers through your entire body. The sensation was electric, a tantalizing dance on the precipice of pleasure.

As your breaths intertwined, the shared rhythm hinted at the imminent climax, drawing you both closer to the edge. 

In the throes of passion, your murmurs of his name reverberated against his lips as he quickened the pace, both of you on the precipice of an imminent release. The urgency in your voice only fueled his desire, and he nodded in approval as you moaned: 

"Obi-Wan…"

Encouraged by your compliance, he implored you for more, his hunger evident. "Again, darling, say it again!"

In a cascade of breathless utterances, you willingly complied, chanting his name with increasing fervor. 

"Obi-wan! Obi-wan! Obi-wan!"

With a fluid blend of strength, grace, and skill, he effortlessly tipped you onto your back. The swift change momentarily took you by surprise, but before the disorientation settled, he surged back into you with newfound intensity. Each movement reached deeper, and he committed his entire weight to each forceful thrust, immersing both of you in a realm of heightened pleasure.

His frame shook with each thrust, and with every motion, he felt a piece of himself slipping away, lost in the fervor of the moment. Desperation marked his every move as he teetered on the precipice of oblivion, but determined to hold off just a little longer. The urgency in his actions spoke of a desire to witness you unraveling in the throes of pleasure, to experience the cascade of ecstasy like a tidal wave crashing over him.

His fingers laced with yours, holding a connection that transcended the physical, while his kisses conveyed a hunger that mirrored the intensity of the act. Amid groans and the forceful snap of his hips, he dropped his lips to your ear, breathing hot against your skin.

"Come, darling, come for me!" He moved with an increasingly wild and intense rhythm, his passion reaching new heights. The affectionate term "Padawan" slipped from his lips like a whispered plea, an irresistible command, urging you to surrender to the pleasure he was offering, to climax for your master.

And you did, your body arching in response to the unrelenting intensity, hips bucking wildly against his, meeting his every thrust. Lips locked with his, you welcomed the furious pace he set each time he bottomed out, your bodies entwined in a dance without inhibitions. He threw his weight behind every motion, determined to make you feel every bit of him, to give you everything he had.

His desperate cries of "Padawan!" grew louder in the heated air, a mantra underscoring the intimacy of the moment. The repetition of the endearing term only served to heighten the exquisite pleasure, acknowledging a connection that surpassed the physical act. As he reached the pinnacle of ecstasy, a shudder ran through his entire body, and a helplessly primal howl escaped his lips. The heat of his seed spilling deep within you was the final catalyst, triggering a powerful climax of your own that rocked your entire body.

The Obi-Wan Kenobi you knew, with all his composure and eloquence, had vanished into thin air. In his place was a man, wild and satisfied, fucking you senseless, thrusting his erupting cock hurriedly back into your cunt as though he might die if he stopped. It just kept coming, he thrust harder with each rope you pulled from him until his body had nothing left to give and he began to still after one final hard thrust.

His breaths slowed, and he fought to stay upright. The only thing keeping him from melting into the mattress and pulling you into him entirely was the awareness of your injuries. Thankfully, the pain that had plagued you earlier had quieted down during your passionate love-making, granting a brief moment of relief. His cerulean eyes shifted from the storm of passion to their usual cool and compassionate state. The aftermath unfolded a scene of vulnerability—echoes of shared passion and lingering concerns for your well-being.

He wrapped his arm around you, drawing you close, and skillfully rolled both of you onto your sides. With his arm firmly around your waist, he stayed seated, still in your warmth, unwilling to leave it just yet.

In the ensuing silence, the room was filled only with the sounds of your shared and labored breathing. 

"Are you alright?" His voice returned to its soft and warm timbre, the familiar hum that felt like a safe, warm home. When you remained silent, he shifted slightly, concern lacing his words, "Darling, is your leg in any pain?" Despite his own exhaustion, his concern for your well-being was touching. The way he called you darling further added to your sated state, and it made you smile.

"What leg?" 

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, a comforting warmth you hadn't felt in ages. Shifting to a more serious tone, he inquired again about your injuries, but the light-hearted demeanor lingered.

"I don’t care. Ask me in the morning," You replied unbothered, arms wrapping around his neck. Nestling into the comforting warmth of his chest, you threw a leg around his hips, pulling him closer. His gasp of pleasure, maybe mixed with a hint of overstimulation, brought a satisfied smile to your face, ignoring the subtle throb echoing through your body. It was worth it—the pains, the frustrations—just to lie in your master's arms, his cock still buried in you basking in warmth, safety, and a newfound satisfaction.

"Mmm, Master?" You murmured, your voice laced with the weight of drowsiness.

He chuckled bashfully, "Darling, you don't have to call me Master, anymore."

"Just trying to be an obedient padawan," you teased, planting a kiss on the sensitive spot on his neck, earning a delightful twitch from his cock.

"Careful, darling. I still owe you a punishment for abandoning me," He playfully reminded, his words hanging in the air. "What was your question?"

"If I abandon you again, and you happened to find me. Would you follow through with your 'punishment' against the wall on a ship?" 

The recollection of that fantasy, coupled with the echo of his playful threat, coaxed a deep groan from him, as both of you relived those shared fantasies. "Please, Master?" You breathed against his neck, your request underscored by a subtle roll of your hips.

His arm wrapped possessively around you, the warmth of his breath tingling against your ear. A soft growl slipped past his lips, melding with the restrained rhythm of his hips, you could feel him driving into you once more wringing out a moan from your lips. His voice, tinged with both amusement and authority, whispered,

"It seems my Padawan still needs a bit of instruction."

Why, yes, there's more...

~~~

If you would like to see more stuff like this (reader inserts) let me know and let me know if you'd like to join the tag list! For my faithful Obi-Wan content readers! @split-spectrum (you helped inspire this!), @heyhawtdawgs. @pickleprickle

Alright! I need a cigarette!

[aceandersonn]

Hello! Can I request a story? (Anakin Skywalker x gn!Reader?)

Can the Reader be Anakin's Padawan? Like recently, Ahsoka left the order and Anakin's sorta grieving over it Maybe the reader has recently lost their own Master so they're also upset about that. Reader has an big crush on Anakin and vice versa. but he's typical Ani and acts mean and scary. I dunno, i just liked the idea and saw you were taking requests. Sorry for grammatical mistakes. English isn't my first language <3 Thank you and have a good day!

A/N: Hello there Anon! I am so sorry about the wait. I am writing multiple stories atm and only just got around to this. Hope you like it<3 And let me know if you want a Part Two. I feel like I could possibly add some more to this story. -Ace

The World is a Cruel Place (PART ONE?)

(Anakin Skywalker x gn!reader)

Main Masterlist

Character Masterlist

Story Outline: Your previous Master was unexpectedly killed on the battlefield, and you find yourself with a new Master, who he himself has recently lost his own Padawan. Your new Master is cold towards you, and you fear that you may never get him to appreciate you as a Padawan. Until one day, you find out your very much mistaken.

Word Count: 2918 (basically 3000. . .)

Warning(s): Not proof read, so there is probably mistakes, Swearing, Anakin is a bully, ANGST-y?, MAKE OUT SCENE, maybe hair pulling kink?

It was one of those days at the Jedi Temple where nothing in particular was going on. Except for the fact that you were getting a new Master to complete your Padawan Training. It would have been a big deal to you if it weren’t for the fact your previous Master had recently been killed in front of you only a few days prior. So, you sat anxiously in the council room, awaiting Master Yoda’s decision on who would be your new Master. 

The old Jedi was walking around in a circle in the decently-sized council room, stroking his chin and lost in thought. You watched him as he hobbled about, thinking about who he could possibly pick to be your next mentor. It wasn’t before long he stopped in his tracks and hummed to himself, which could only mean one thing.

“Perfect choice for you, I have thought of.” Yoda said cheerfully. You stood up abruptly from the seat you sat on prior. Yoda slowly walked over to you and grabbed both of your hands. “He too, lost a Padawan. Help each other recover, I know you can.” Your eyes widen at his words. A Jedi Master has lost a Padawan? Isn’t a Master supposed to protect their Padawan’s at all cost? Which Jedi Master could be so reckless? “Sense your conflict, I do. About your new Masters old Padawan, yes?” You nodded and looked away from the older Jedi. Yoda chuckled and let go of your hands before heading to the door. “Master Skywalker didn’t lose a Padawan to the Force, young one. His Padawan left the order, she did.” You silently gasped. Master Skywalker? As in, Anakin Skywalker? The famous Chosen One? Yoda once again chuckled and shook his head.

“Didn’t expect Skywalker to be your new mentor, no?” 

“N-no, Master. I didn’t.” you stumbled on your words. Yoda reached the door and opened it, revealing the Jedi himself, and his own previous mentor.

“Master Kenobi and young Skywalker, glad to see you, I am.” Yoda announced. You examined the two jedi and gulped when your eyes met Anakin’s. Not only was he taller than you expected, but way more handsome than any holograms you’ve seen of him in interviews. You could feel your jaw slightly dropping open, but immediately clenched it when you noticed Anakin was examining you too.

“Master Yoda, we came here to announce the-” 

“Master Kenobi, hear about the War later, I will. Right now, we will discuss young Skywalker’s new Padawan.” Yoda interrupted Obi-Wan mid sentence. You notice that both Jedi’s mouths dropped, but not as far as Anakin’s. His jaw practically fell onto the floor; and his eyes widened so much, you were positive they would pop out of his skull.

“New Padawan? But Master Yoda, I didn’t request-” Anakin began to argue but Yoda didn’t have any of it and hit his leg with his cane, to which Anakin winced at.

“Any complaints about this arrangement, not have, I will. You will train young L/N and ensure her success as a Jedi Knight. Then after her training, become a Jedi Master, you will.” 

Anakin seemed to calm down a bit when he heard about his stepping up in ranks to become a Master Jedi. He once again looked at you but with an unreadable gaze. You attempted a small smile to perhaps change his cold demeanour, but he only scowled at you before looking away and re-focusing his attention at Yoda.

You shrugged at his attitude and assumed it had to do with his mission he just got back from. But boy, were you wrong.

+++

“Padawan, why are you late?” 

You stood up straight from your slouching position and locked eyes with your new Master, Anakin Skywalker. You looked over to the wall at the entrance of the massive training room  where a clock was displayed. 

“Master, I am on time. Unless you count those-”

“You’re two minutes late, two minutes of valuable time that I could be training you to be better. Remember my rules, Padawan?” Your master interrupted to continue his rant, to which you rolled your eyes before replying.

“Every one minute late, equals-”

“-ten laps around the training room. So, at the end of our usual training, I expect you to stay afterwards and do your twenty laps. Then you are free to do whatever you want.” 

You huffed. When you found out your new Master would be Anakin Skywalker, you thought your life was going to change. You were correct on that; but it wasn’t how you expected. Anakin was incredibly harsh on you and was always going all out on your training. You usually found yourself too exhausted to do anything in your free time, as you normally went to your chambers to have a nap. 

The missions you went on were even worse!

Since Anakin Skywalker was a general for one of the biggest Clone Squads, you constantly found yourself on missions that were much more dangerous than the ones you and your previous master went on. People were constantly dying all around you and some deaths could've been easily prevented. 

On top of that, the trauma from your previous master haunted you like a lost soul. Your nightmares about them got so bad that you often didn’t sleep at night in fear of having those dreams. An endless cycle of your master getting stabbed by Ventress over and over and over. And as previously mentioned, Anakin did nothing but make you dread things more.

“Padawan, you sure are in Lala Land today, aren’t you?” your thoughts were interrupted when you suddenly tripped and fell over, and met face to face with your Masters chest, to which he stumbled back from and nearly fell over too.

“Oh my! I am so sorry, Master. I didn’t-” you tried to apologise but he waved his hand in dismissal. 

“Save it Padawan, I don’t need to hear your excuses. Just, please, try and focus or you’re wasting both of our time.” You nodded your head and began to practise sparring with your Master once more. But it wasn’t before long you once again were knocked from your feet and you fell flat on your back with two lightsabers pointed at your chest.

“What is it, Padawan? You’re usually not this bad.” Anakin said smugly with an evil smirk gracing his features. Oh how badly you wanted to punch the smirk off of it.

“Wow Master, you could at least ask me if everything is alright. Yet again, you never did care for me enough did you?” You said through gritted teeth. Anakin raised his brow at you before deactivating your sabre and handing it to you.

“I care for you, I just don’t frolic around and make you feel special like your previous Master. This is the real world; it’s not nice. So you need to grow up and get used to it.”

You just about exploded with tears right there and then. How dare he talk about your old Master like that? The one person who made sure you were standing here, alive and well today. You stood up abruptly from the ground and stormed out of the room, ignoring Anakin’s orders to return to him immediately.

Once you were a bit ways from the training room, that’s when you let your thoughts cloud your mind. How could such a beautiful man act like such an arse? You will admit, you had a massive crush on your Master. He was tall, handsome, and not to mention, fearless. He was very intimidating, which you loved. 

When he first became your mentor, you fantasised about him nearly every night, which often led you to blushing madly when you were around him the next day. But you knew he would never like you the way you liked him. From how he presented himself as a Jedi, you knew he would never break the code for someone like you. 

You sighed in frustration to where your thoughts were spiralling your mind into. You clenched your jaw tightly and began to pick up the pace to where your chambers laid. 

Why do you like Anakin anyway? All he does all day is insult your technique, and how you could try better. You do try! You began to mumble angrily at yourself, and before long, you found yourself projecting each of your thoughts with no shame at all.

“How could he? That stupid. . .goodie-two-shoed Jedi–” 

“Who are you cursing about?” a voice interrupted your small tantrum and you turned around quickly on your heels and noticed it was Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin’s previous Master. Oh, what joy.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Master Kenobi. . .I-I was just–”

“Is Anakin being difficult on you, Padawan?” He asked as he stepped closer to you so you could hear each other better.

You sighed heavily before nodding your head quickly.

“Y-yes, Master. But I think he’s sorta right on some things.” You sniffed and crossed your arms to hug yourself.

“Anakin says things he doesn’t mean sometimes. And, you also need to consider he also just lost one of his closest friends, Ahsoka Tano. He feels like he failed as a mentor. I’m not trying to say what he said was right; maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. But you need to try and be more–how do I put this. . .” He trailed off, stroking his beard as he thought of the correct word. You watched him for a moment before understanding what he was trying to get at.

“I think I understand what you are trying to say. Master Yoda was right, I think we could help each other get over the pain that was left from our past ‘partners.’ But, Master Kenobi, I am not sure how I can start being better for his standards. He thinks I’m weak and not capable of being a Jedi.” 

Obi-Wan raises a brow at this and also crosses his arms.

“What makes you think that?”

You inhaled deeply before looking down at the floor.

“Well, he’s always. . .” 

“I don’t think you’re incapable of being a Jedi.” A familiar voice interrupts your train of thought, to which you whip your head around and see the man himself that was causing all the problems.

“Hello, Anakin. I think you better make up with your Padawan. And y/n, I think you have some things to tell him too.” Obi-Wan said before nodding his head at the both of you and walking off down the hallways to wherever he was heading originally. 

Anakin watched him for a moment before turning his attention back at you.

“Hello, y/n.” 

You froze in place at his simple greeting. He has never called you by your real name before. It was either ‘padawan’ or no name at all. 

“You called me by my name.” you said quietly, the corners of your mouth threatening to smile.

Anakin raised his brow. “And? Last I checked, it’s normal for someone to have a name. In fact, it would be abnormal to not have one.” 

Your face dropped into a neutral one again. Of course he went back to square one where he acts like a complete arsehole for no reason at all.

“What’s the long face for? I didn’t say anything rude to you.” 

You sighed, he was right. You were just overreacting over small things. Maybe you did need to grow up and start acting more mature.

“Nothing, just–ignore me. I am going to head to my chambers now, good-bye Anakin.” You began to walk past him but a hand reached out and grabbed you before you could go any further.

“I need to tell you something, but in a more private place. C’mon.” And with a harsh tug, he began to pull you towards wherever he wanted to go to ‘talk’.

“Hey, you can’t–” 

You decided it was no use arguing, as his grip only tightened on you arm and you were now being dragged instead of guided. You noticed he was leading you to where all the Jedi Knights rooms laid. You eventually stopped at a door and you caught your breath. 

“Um, where are we?” you asked your Master, to which you gained no reply. The door to the room opened and you got pulled into it.

“Hey, you can’t just drag people like that, I think you dislocated my-”

“Shut up!” 

His voice started you and you flinched at it. You backed up towards the door and pressed yourself against it. Anakin watched you and followed your slow movement. You soon found yourself pressed against the door and Anakin’s broad chest. You inhaled quickly and tried to get past him.

“I have some things I need to tell you, y/n.” He whispered in your ear. Your breath hitched at the close distance between you and your Master. Isn’t this a bit inappropriate? 

“Master Skywalker, please move back a bit. I can’t breathe.” you said, attempting to push him away. But to no avail, he only moved closer to you. You could feel his breath on your neck and you shivered. It was a similar scenario to all your dreams, only you were shoving Anakin against a wall. You felt heat begin to rise to your cheeks.

“Call me Anakin when it’s just you and me.” he said, and your ears perked at this new side of him. Your strict Master was asking you to call him by his first name? That’s a new one.

“What?” 

“Anakin.” he simply replied. You rolled your eyes and exhaled heavily.

“No, I know what you said. But, why? It’s part of being a Padawan–” you were interrupted when he shoved you even further against the door and felt his lips brush against yours. At this point, you knew you were a blushing mess; all the butterflies in your stomach were now roaming freely, much to your dismay.

But nothing could compare to the shock you felt when Anakin’s lips met yours. The kiss was soft and passionate, and his lips moulded against yours perfectly; like you were always meant to be together. Then reality came crashing in: your Master was kissing you. All the warnings of the Jedi Council and the Codes filled your mind, to which you disconnected your lips from Anakin. You attempted to once again push him away, but you failed miserably. This man was like a mountain; unmovable.

“A-Anakin, we can’t. It goes against the Code of the Jedi.” Anakin ignored your pleas and began to kiss your cheek and jawline. You felt his hands move to your waist and goosebumps formed on your skin. What was he doing to you?

“Y/n, I don’t care what the Jedi Code says, or the council. It’s all nonsense.” At this point, his kisses were trailing from your jaw to your neck to which you inhaled sharply at the contact.

“A-Anakin. . .this isn’t right,” you tried to hold back a moan but failed when he began to softly suck and lick at the most sensitive part of your neck.

“Shh, don’t talk so much, y/n.” 

His hands moved up to your back and he nestled his head into the crook of your neck and inhaled your scent. You moaned quietly when he began to bite at your collarbone.

“Anakin, please kiss me,” You finally gave in, to which he obliged. You felt his lips reconnect with yours once again and you sighed into it. Your hands soon found its way to his long hair and you buried it into his curls, tugging on it slightly. You heard him moan into the kiss and you smirked at it.

“Do you like that, Anakin?” You asked with a playful tone. Anakin nodded his head and continued to kiss you with more passion than before. You then decided to take matters into your own hands and turned him around a full 180 degrees. Now you were the one pinning him against the door.

“W-What are you doing, y/n?” Anakin stuttered, clearly flustered at how fast you took control.

“You have some explaining to do, Anakin.” You said with a harsh tone of voice. Anakin swallowed hard and looked down at the tiled floor of his chambers.

“I-I am in love with you, I think.” he said, barely above a whisper. 

“Skywalker, that’s not an apology for how you treated me since I became your Padawan. Do you need me to tell you how to apologise?” You moved your hand into his hair and yanked it, to which Anakin cried out in pain. But you could tell he was enjoying it by the way his breathing had picked up.

“C’mon, Master, I’m waiting for a proper apology.” 

“S-sorry, my dear Padawan for being an arse to you. Will you please forgive me and kiss me some more?” 

You stared at his sapphire eyes and noticed how needy he looked. It was almost pathetic how your Master, the ‘Hero with no Fear’, was being an absolute child. You sighed heavily and an evil smirk crossed your face.

“No, I don’t think I will kiss you. A wise Jedi once told me the world was cruel and things don’t always go your way. But, I will forgive you, Master.” 

Proud at how you used his own words against him, you unlocked the door to his room, and ran out; heading towards where your own chambers awaited.

A/N

Y/N is a freaking badass 😎 Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the story! And, I am taking requests! So feel free to ask for a story :)

[curlygirlybitchachos]

Padawan Reader

(Christmas special)

*Obi-wan drinking his morning tea peacefully*

*Y/n appearing from their room with a present*

Y/n: Happy Christmas.

Obi-wan: oh dear you don't have to.. . Oh! What a lovely mug! But why it says "Second best Dad"?

Y/n: you tried.

* Cody watching them with his "Best Dad" mug, drinking caff*

+Bonus

Anakin with an "Okayest brother figure" shirt in his hands: PADME! THEY DID IT AGAIN?!

(Take this little thing as my Christmas present. Happy Christmas to you guys!)

[im-a-wonderling]

Rescue Me, Part 1 ~ Obi-Wan Kenobi

I started writing this in August of 2022. Four rewrites later, I’m posting it now in August of 2023. Shoutout to @writing-on-the-wahl​ for inspiring me and helping me smooth this over as well as to my brother for supplying all the military/niche Star Wars knowledge I needed. 

Summary: A simple mission takes a turn, and suddenly Y/N has to work carefully with Master Kenobi to ensure they both survive. 

Warnings: Satine doesn’t exist, mentions of mistreatment, mentions of Pong Krell (yes, this is a warning, Clone Wars fans get it. If you haven’t watched Clone Wars, you should still be able to understand this fic) 

Word count: 7.5k

Rescue Me masterlist

Never in my entire life had I been so cold.

The cold sucked all the Force-given agility from my limbs, numbness spreading from my toes to my knees. I could feel the hairs inside my nostrils freezing, and every gasp of air burned its way down my throat and into my lungs. My nose felt moments away from falling off my face altogether. 

There was no blushing horizon, no boulders or trees visible, no dynamic landscape whatsoever. There wasn’t even a way to discern where the sky ended and the land began. 

 It was just white. 

The pelting snow obstructed everything from view, keeping me unaware of anything unless it was two feet from my face. For all I knew, we could’ve been walking in circles. 

The very idea set my teeth on edge, and I quickly attempted some deep breaths to calm myself down. I kept pushing forward, practically dragging Master Kenobi along through the snow that had reached my knees.

It was because of this blasted snow that he hadn’t seen the D’oemir bear trap until its metal jaws closed around his foot. I’d been busy studying the defenses of the Separatist base when a shout of pain came from behind me, alerting the Separatists of our presence and our location. 

What had started as a simple scouting mission was now a fight for survival.

I took more deep breaths, trying to lean on the Force for peace, just as I’d always been taught. And yet, like every other time I tried, the mystical energy seemed muted, like it’d been covered in a blanket to hide it from view. For all intents and purposes, Master Kenobi and I were alone. 

As if the planet somehow eavesdropped on my thoughts, the wind picked up, sending an extra bite of pain through my exposed cheeks. “How much farther to the ship?!” I yelled in an endeavor to be heard, holding tighter to the arm slung around my neck. 

Master Kenobi didn’t answer, and my heart sank. We weren’t even close then. 

A particularly brutal gust of wind buffeted past us, nearly pushing us backwards. 

"We can't go on much further!" I shouted. "Master, I don't think we're going to make it!"

Master Kenobi held up his free hand, holding it up to block the gale from his face. His lips moved, but the sound coming from them was lost.

"What did you say?!" 

He leaned in, positioning his lips right beside my ear. "You need to get yourself to the ship!"

A blast of anger imploded in my insides, momentarily warming me up. "I'm not leaving you!" Another squall of wind nearly sent us toppling over. 

"There's no point in both of us being stuck out here when you can save yourself!" Master Kenobi pulled his arm, unwinding it from its position around my neck.

I fixed him with a glare and gripped his arm tighter. "I'm not deserting you!" I didn’t know what exactly the council would do if I showed up on Coruscant without Master Kenobi, but I knew the judgment would be swift and severe. 

Master Kenobi's exasperation grew as well. "I'm your master, you need to do as I say!"

Yet another gust of wind barreled past us, breaking the conversation and forcing us to brace ourselves. 

"The only other shelter for miles is the base, and we can't go back there!" I said, once the wind returned to its previous howling intensity. “So we have to find some other means of staying warm!”

Master Kenobi straightened, studying our surroundings. I tried not to roll my eyes. There was nothing to see except wind, snow, and desperation, yet he surveyed it all with great care. Even a gaze as hypercritical as Master Kenobi’s wouldn’t be able to conjure something from nothing. 

Suddenly, Master Kenobi twisted around, looking behind us. A strange light jumped forth in his eyes. He mumbled something, but the wind blew it away. 

"What?!"

"That way!" he shouted, pointing off to the side. 

"What about that way?!"

Master Kenobi still didn't answer. He took a step in the indicated direction and would've fallen, had I not shifted to take the weight. 

I glanced down at his injury. The sight of the dried blood that long since had soaked through his boot sent my stomach flipping. Ironically, the only thing keeping him from bleeding out was the same infernal cold that would kill us if we were exposed much longer. 

We didn’t have much time.

"C'mon!" he yelled, bringing me out of my thoughts with an impatient look thrown at me. 

"Where are we going?!" 

"There's a bunker this way, I've been in it before!"

I stared at him warily. "How do you know where it is?! I can’t see a thing!"

"I just know!”

He just knows, I thought sourly. The almighty Jedi master in his boundless knowledge just knew everything about everything.

An irritated grunt left my lips. Thankfully, the wind covered up my defiance, and my mental shields kept any doubt from spilling over. Well, I guess it doesn’t matter where we freeze, I thought to myself grimly before obeying Master Kenobi. 

“Just keep heading towards the mountain!” 

Mountain?

I glanced around, checking to see if a mountain had somehow snuck past me since the first time I’d looked around. But no, the terrain was the same.

“What mountain?” I shouted back.

Master Kenobi shut his eyes for a moment, and I couldn’t tell if it was due to exasperation or pain. “Reach out with the Force, and you can feel it!”

The Force? As some sort of land radar?

I wanted to scoff, to argue with him. But while giving into my doubts seemed appealing, I knew Master Kenobi would still be assessing every move I made. So I pushed on, fighting the snow and the wind for every step of distance covered. What felt like an eternity later, Master Kenobi reached out his free hand to point ahead of us. “Look, there it is!”

I peered around us, feeling the snowflakes stuck in my lashes. “I don’t–”

“Just keep going!” Master Kenobi urged.

I’m never leaving Coruscant again, I promised myself with every step. The numerous threats and corrupt politicians would be manageable, especially because death would likely come in a swifter and more exciting package. Like poison. Or a dramatic duel to the death. Not something as rudimentary as snow.

To my utter surprise, I felt the ground underneath us start to slope upwards. Could I really be at the foot of a mountain and not see it? I squinted in the direction of the slope and caught sight of hits of gray mixed in with the white. 

Son of a mudscuffer, there really was a mountain. 

Master Kenobi brought the hand that wasn’t around my neck to his mouth, tearing his glove off with his teeth. Fingers free, he pressed his hand to the snowy rock.

“Welcome, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” an automatic voice said. The wall of rock slid to the side, revealing a door that opened.

A sudden burst of heat came from the doorway, and I nearly lost my grasp on Master Kenobi as I stumbled through the doorway, leaning against the wall immediately inside. Clearly aware of my exhaustion, Master Kenobi leaned his weight away from me and up against the wall as the door closed behind us.

The roaring of the wind dulled, making me feel as if someone had stuffed earplugs into my ears. But I couldn’t make myself care about that.

The delicious warmth caressed my face, like flickering flames running their soft, welcoming hands up and down my skin. I started to regain feeling in the tips of my ears and my nose. 

Then the burning started. 

The flames grew hotter, setting my skin on fire. It itched. I could feel my joints getting stiffer and stiffer as parts of my body started to swell. The heat that I’d so desperately craved a few moments ago was proving to be just as dangerous as the chill.

“What the–” Master Kenobi said, raising his rapidly puffing fingers. 

“We’re warming up too fast,” I gasped, picturing a description from a med book I’d read once, accompanied with gruesome pictures I didn’t want to recreate. “We have to slow down the temperature change. Is there a refresher in this place?”

Master Kenobi stepped forward to show me the way, and he immediately pitched forward, losing his balance.

My arms shot out, grabbing him before he could fully fall to the floor. “Silly old man,” I said through gritted teeth as I began to drag him once more. 

“I’m not that much older than you,” Master Kenobi bit back before pointing down the hallway with his free hand. Wordlessly, I followed his direction. Scorching pain started where his arm met the skin of my neck, but I only held him tighter as I focused on getting us to the refresher. Master Kenobi tried to help, leaning some of his weight against the wall as we passed, but it didn’t make much of a difference. “Last door on the left,” he panted.

I slammed my hand against the pad, and the door slid open.

The revealed quarters could barely be called a refresher. It wasn’t even big enough for a Wookie to hide in. Would Master Kenobi and I even fit? 

Only one way to find out.

I lowered him to the floor and quickly turned the water on. “We have to get in.” I jerked my hat off, shrugging out of my coat. “If we take too long, our hearts are going to fail.” I pulled off my overtunic, cursing the number of layers I had on. After getting the undertunic off as well, the exposed skin of my arms and stomach started to prickle painfully. It grew even worse when my pants came off, leaving nothing to protect my skin from the heat except a pair of tight undershorts and the fabric binding my chest. All I wanted to do was get under the stream of water for some relief. 

I stepped towards the refresher, my foot touching the water as I glanced over at the master.

Master Kenobi’s shoes lay discarded as his fingers fumbled with the fastenings of his coat. He saw me watching him. “Get under the water!”

I didn’t hesitate, crouching in front of him, clumsily pulling at the fastenings of his coat. By some miracle, they opened, and I tugged the coat off.

“Get under the water!” Master Kenobi ordered, but I ignored him, fisting his overtunic in my stiff hands. “Leave me!”

I met his eyes, ignoring the fire ants crawling all over my skin. “Arms up.”

“Y/N-”

“The more difficult you make this, the longer it will take for me to get in the refresher,” I barked. “Arms up.”

Looking extremely vexed, Master Kenobi finally sat forward, lifting his arms to allow the overtunic to be tugged over his head. I tossed it to the side, getting to work unwrapping his undertunic. He shifted his weight, hooking his thumbs into his pants and pulling them down his legs. I pulled them off, discarding them as well.

Then I stared down at his body, a new conundrum taunting me.

Master Kenobi’s frame far exceeded mine in size, and it was riddled with heavy muscle. The refresher was barely big enough for us to stand in it together, so he couldn’t crawl in and sit on the floor. But how was I supposed to get him into a standing position and into the refresher? 

“Go.” Master Kenobi’s shove was far from gentle. “Get in.”

I grit my teeth. “I told you,” I learned forward, hooking my arms under his armpits, “I’m not leaving you.”

“You are my padawan, and you will listen to–”

I hoisted, trying to pull Master Kenobi up. He barely budged.

“–me because I am your–”

I tried again and failed again.

“–master–”

I screwed up my face, shutting my eyes and summoning every last bit of strength I had.

Master Kenobi’s body lifted, his arms wrapping around me as he let out an alarmed yelp.

For a moment, satisfaction wracked through my core…but I’d underestimated how much momentum we’d generated.

I stumbled backwards, my arms wrapped around a toned torso and heavy arms wrapped around my shoulder. The stream of water hit my back, it’s chill making me gasp. Then my back collided with the wall, just before a body slammed against mine, knocking all the air from my lungs.

My eyes flew open, and all I could see was Master Kenobi.

His usually voluminous hair stuck to his head as water ran down in torrents. His lips, surrounded by his overgrown beard, were parted, and his chilly blue eyes were wide.

I shoved him away, forcing him to catch his balance by bracing himself on the wall opposite the refresher head. Unfortunately, the refresher was so small, if I wanted to, I’d still be able to place my palm on his chest without even straightening my arm. The tempo of my heart hastened, the little pitter-patter sounding akin to quickening footsteps. What my heart barreled towards, I didn’t know, but my body seemed to.

A shiver ran up my spine, causing me to tremble. 

“Are you alright?” 

“S’cold,” I said shortly. 

“I believe that’s the point,” Master Kenobi shot back. Despite the humor in his comment, I couldn’t find any in his expression, not even so much as an upturn of his mouth. His face was a hard slab of stony displeasure. 

Standing here in a refresher with Master Obi-wan Kenobi in nothing but my undergarments was not my idea of a good time either, but it was better than freezing to death. 

“Next time,” he grunted, “you’d better get in the refresher first.” 

Nevermind.

Master Kenobi pursed his lips, still looking upset. “I’m not solely charged with teaching you–.” 

“I get it.” The impertinent words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.

Master Kenobi’s face spoke of vexation, like it always did when he was interrupted. “You are not just my student, you are my ward. I am responsible for you, so when I tell you to save yourself, you are to listen, do you understand?”

I hated that he was talking to me like I was a child. I may not have been his padawan for longer than a week, but I wasn’t a youngling.

“It is not a hard concept to grasp.” His tone danced between stern and impatient.

I remained silent, twisting the refresher dial to make the water slightly warmer and keeping my face impassive as I’d always been told. But his words only fed the fiery furnace roaring inside me.

The crease between Master Kenobi’s eyebrows flattened. “You’re angry.”

My cheeks heated up. I quickly shoved the rage down, frustrated that it had momentarily broken through my mental shields and bled through my Force signature. My previous master had been able to harness the Force to hide his emotions as easily as breathing. I tried to do the same, but the Force rarely allied itself with me.

“I understand,” I said as evenly as possible, keeping my eyes averted and my temper in strong hand. “I'm just a padawan. You're the master.”

“There is no ‘just a padawan’,” Master Kenobi interupted. “Being a padawan is just as crucial a part of the Jedi cycle as being a master.”

I barely withheld my huff as I turned the water slightly warmer again. I didn’t need any Jedi propaganda about the value of life and each stage of it. 

“You’re angrier.”

I quickly raised my mental shields again, cursing them for continually breaking down.

“Tell me why you’re angry.”

I eyed Master Kenobi warily. To discuss this with him was wrong, but to disobey a direct order from my master was even worse. 

“Y/N-” he began, and I snapped. 

“Do you think I’m stupid?” I barked. “That I don’t know this mission is a test? If I show up on Coruscant without you, the council will assume I’ve followed in Master Krell’s footsteps and execute me.”

“Why would you be executed?” 

“Master Krell was,” I said with gritted teeth. “A padawan stands in their master’s shadow, don’t they?”

His mouth turned down in a deep frown. “You haven't gone over to the dark side and killed scores of clones.”

“And yet if the council trusted me, we wouldn't be here on a so-called surveillance mission!” Master Kenobi didn’t immediately reply, watching me, waiting for more answers. I lifted my hands to pull the pins out of my bun, letting my hair fall. My outrage cooled slightly. “Look,” I set the pins off to the side, “saving myself doesn’t do me any good here. Can we leave it at that?”

Master Kenobi didn’t seem to catch the hint. “No.” 

I lifted my eyes to the ceiling. The more my irritation grew, the more he questioned me, making my irritation rise even further. It was an endless cycle.

“You're frustrated.”

I slammed my mental shields back into place.

Master Kenobi tilted his head. “Why do you try to hide your emotions from me? 

Distantly, I knew the more anger I showed, the more likely I was going to get into trouble, but when there’s enough heat to make the pot of boiling water froth and overflow, slamming the lid down only worked for so long. “If you want to quiz me on the Jedi Code, can it wait until we’re back on Coruscant?” 

“No, it can’t.”

I wanted to scream.

“You’re getting angrier.”

Gripping the reins of my temper, I yanked them back so hard, my body hit the wall of the refresher.  “Why do you care?” I bit back.

“Because only a Sith tries to hide their true feelings.” He looked me directly in the eyes. “Are you a Sith?”

It was a natural thing to ask, yet the question still felt like a hammer between the eyes. 

No! I wanted to scream. Of course not! How could you think such a thing?!

But as I looked into Master Kenobi’s grave expression, a small trickle of doubt started.

Master Kenobi wouldn’t lie. It was against his character and offered him no advantage here. If hiding emotions was a component of the Code of the Sith instead of the Jedi Code…

Pong Krell was my master. As his padawan, I was expected to follow his lead and take his teachings to heart. To be a padawan was to be molded. Master Krell abandoned the Jedi Code, lost his respect for life, regardless of whose it was, and started ending lives instead of saving them. How long ago had he chosen the dark side? And how long had he been molding me the wrong way?

Maybe…maybe I didn’t know how to be a Jedi at all.

Thoughts started swirling in my brain, picking up speed until they were so fast, I couldn’t catch hold of them.

“You don’t want to be one,” Master Kenobi said softly, more to himself than to me. “And you’re worried you are.”

I almost went to reinforce my mental shields, but if that was truly the method of a Sith…perhaps my own impulses were untrustworthy. “I’m so confused,” I managed to say. 

“Why are you trying to hide?” Master Kenobi asked, slowly and clearly. I considered him, no longer with skepticism or a wild need to prove myself, but to see him as he was.

Tall. Pale. Strong-browed. Sturdy-shouldered. Piercingly blue-eyed. Hair charmingly tousled. Mouth sternly set. 

All of it whispered of forbearance. 

I felt it then, deep within myself. A push to speak.

“Because Master Krell told me to,” I mumbled. “He…he said my thoughts were too loud, so…he taught me to conceal them.”

Master Kenobi’s mouth opened and closed, producing no sound as he stared at me. Finally, he closed his eyes, looking pained. “I didn’t realize that his teachings were so corrupt.”

I blinked at him. “What?”

Blue eyes rested on my face, striking me with soft wisdom. “I am sorry. Krell’s failings should’ve been spotted long before they were.”

I nearly gaped at him, discomfort coursing through me as my skin started prickling again. A master, apologizing to a padawan? It wasn’t seemly. 

“His failings?” I repeated.

Master Kenobi squared his shoulders. “To be a master is to be your padawan’s strength so you can aid them in their weakness. To protect them, to respect them, to build their confidence.” Master Kenobi’s eyes turned sad. “Did Krell do that for you?”

I thought I felt bare already, but Master Kenobi’s question stripped me completely. To ask for my opinion…it felt wrong. So wrong, that I couldn’t even fathom giving it. I crossed my arms, bowing my head to let my hair fall forward like a curtain. I stared at the drain at our feet, wishing I could melt and slide away with the water.

A hand rested on my shoulder, calluses gently scraping against my skin.  

I started to lean away from it, but I froze when I looked up, coming face-to-face with the fiery resolution in Master Kenobi’s face. “Now that you are with me, things will be different.” Master Kenobi’s hand squeezed my shoulder. 

A simple gesture. A kind one. 

Different, Master Kenobi said, did I dare to hope it could even be better? 

I immediately buried the hope in an avalanche of doubt. My display of emotion and insubordination surely warranted chastising at some point, as neither of them were signs of a competent Jedi. He was waiting. He would scold me for my actions at a later date, surely. 

Yet no trace of Master Kenobi’s displeasure remained in his face. The moments that passed were only filled with the sounds of water hitting the refresher floor.

My body still felt too big for my skin, like my skin was straining to stay together, but my skin no longer burned. I reached over, turning the dial farther, and the water could finally be called warm. 

A small sigh sounded, and Master Kenobi leaned his head against the refresher wall, his eyes closed. Even with his slumped posture, the ends of his hair brushed his shoulders. With the rapid succession of our last few missions, neither one of us had much time for personal grooming, even by Jedi standards. Judging by the way he’d been absentmindedly brushing his hair out of his face these past few days, it was far past the length that he liked it to be. It’d fallen into his face now, collecting in a tangled clump on his forehead. 

As I watched and without opening his eyes, Master Kenobi lifted a hand, pushing the hair back. As my eyes remained on the locks, a bizarre fluttering started in my stomach. 

The sensation started out subtle, but the longer I looked, the more it grew. 

Was I getting sick? 

Had our traipse through the snow caused some further harm than just the discomfort I was now experiencing? 

His eyes fluttered open without warning, meeting mine. I read the question there, clear as day. Had he picked up on my feelings? “Your hair,” I replied, hoping the Force hadn’t given him the exact subject of my musings. “It’s long.”

He self-consciously ran his fingers through it. “I know, I know. It’s high time for a haircut.”

“I could cut it for you.”

Suspicion bloomed on his face. “Have you ever cut hair before?”

I gestured to my own hair. My work was a bit choppy, but I wore my hair up most of the time anyway.

“Yeah, you’re not touching my hair,” he said, running his hand protectively over his locks. “I’d probably end up having to shave it all off.” He shuddered, and I nearly snorted, reaching over to turn the water off.

“Are there towels in this place?”

“Here, I’ll-” Master Kenobi stepped forward and immediately crumpled.

I sprang forward, but my strength was only enough to slow his descent to the floor. 

I’d forgotten about his wound. I kneeled beside him, reaching for his bare leg, but he quickly shifted out of my reach. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

“Taking a look at your injury, old man,” I said matter-of-factly, trying not to show how worried I was.

“I assure you, I’m fine–”

Before he could finish his protests, I grabbed the leg, pulling it towards me. I knew as soon as I laid eyes on it that it was bad.

The punctures oozing blood were not the worst of our worries, nor was the swelling and bruising already making their way up and down the appendage. It was the odd angle of the foot.

I looked up at him. “I think it’s broken.”

A ripple ran up his jaw as he grit his teeth. “Can you set it?” he asked. 

“You didn’t even want me to cut your hair!”

“Can you set it?” he repeated. 

“I-I know the theories of how, but you should really have a med droid do it.”

“I don’t have a med droid.” Master Kenobi paused, his expression softening before he said: “I have you.”

“I could hurt you.”

He glanced at the wound. “I think we’re beyond that now.”

“I could make it worse.”

“You won’t.”

He was…trusting me…to help him.

I shook my head slightly. I was the best chance he had. There was a difference. 

I studied Master Kenobi’s foot. If I did something wrong, would there be lasting complications? What if I did something that delayed his healing? Or worse, what if I made a catastrophic mistake that led to him losing his foot altogether?

I didn’t want to do this now. 

But if we waited, the untreated break would surely take ages to heal.

“I’ll do my best.” 

He nodded, looking determined, and his resolve lent me strength. As gingerly as I could, I prodded the skin.

Master Kenobi’s whole body tensed. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for the exact point of the break. It doesn’t seem as though the bone has pierced the skin, but it’s displaced.” I finally located what I was looking for and got my hands in the right position. Then I stopped. If Master Kenobi tensed up, it’d make it harder to shift the bone. I could put him through all the pain of trying to set it, only to not get the bone back to where it needed to be.

I needed him to loosen up, something I hadn’t seen the Jedi Master do in all the time I’d known him.

“How do you know all this?” Master Kenobi asked. “About the rewarming and the bone setting?”

“Before I was chosen as a padawan, I was studying to be a healer,” I answered distractedly, still trying to figure out how to get him to relax. Perhaps he was ticklish? 

Master Kenobi cocked his head. “You didn’t continue that study after you were chosen?”

I shook my head.

“Why not? The Jedi Order always needs healers.”

I glanced up at him, slightly irritated that he’d chosen this moment in time to ask questions. “Um…I tried to help heal a Clone once.” Maybe laughter would help him relax. What were the odds of me telling a joke that would make him laugh?

Master Kenobi raised his eyebrows. “And?”

“When Master Krell found out, he hit me.” So distracted by my task, the words left my mouth before I could even think about them. 

Master Kenobi’s eyes grew wide as his limbs went completely slack. “He-”

I seized the moment, wrenching the bone back into its proper place.

To his credit, my master only let out a strangled groan. After a moment passed, he shifted. “Y/N–”

“It’s a good thing you’re not a Vodran,” I said, trying to change the subject. “Their bones are considerably harder to set because their skin is so tough.” Sitting down, I pulled his foot into my lap, grabbing my overtunic. The fabric was thicker than the fabric of my undertunic, meaning it would behave more like bandages. 

“What are you–” Master Kenobi started to say.

“I have to bind your foot so that we didn’t just set the bone for nothing.”

“But that’s your tunic!” 

I shot him a confused look. “It’s just fabric.”

He went quiet, but judging by the ferocity with which he started chewing on his lower lip, he was still anxious. Why was Master Kenobi, the most practical creature I’d ever met, worried about a tunic?

Maybe he was experiencing the same weird feelings I felt earlier, where pain and low temperatures met to form a delirium.

I wrapped his foot up as best as I could, but I had no idea how tight to tie it. I didn’t want to cut off circulation, but the bone needed support. He definitely needed a med droid, and that would require us somehow getting back to our ship. But that wasn’t going to happen until the snow let up, which meant we were stuck here for the foreseeable future. We could only hope that the Separatists didn’t find our ship, and that the ship was still functional when the snowstorm ended.

In the panic of getting his foot set, the water clinging to our skin had evaporated. Grabbing my pants and undertunic, I shrugged them back on, getting to my feet. “I’m going to go see if there’s food.” I nodded towards his foot. “And you should elevate that.”

An exploration of the bunker didn’t reveal much. It was small and almost completely empty, save for two bunks that had been built into the wall, one on top of the other. There were some empty boxes here and there, but there were no provisions to fight against hunger or cold. This bunker functioned as a hiding place and nothing more. 

I returned to Master Kenobi to find him not elevating his foot, but instead struggling to put his pants on over his undershorts. I briefly considered helping, but if he wanted help, he would ask for it. 

“Did you find anything?”

I shook my head. “Just empty boxes. What is this place anyway?” 

Master Kenobi shifted side to side, slowly inching the pants up his legs. “Anakin and I once had to lay low here for a week. It was originally a hideout for some workers from the shadowport on Socorro, but Anakin reprogrammed everything to only respond to us two.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why were the two of you here for a week?” 

A mischievous glint gleamed in his eyes. “We might have had a bounty on our heads.”

“What did you guys do?”

“Anakin made a bet with some mine slavers on Socorro. They lost and had to free fifty slaves.”

A pang shot through me at the casual pride in Master Kenobi’s tone. 

Anakin Skywalker. 

The chosen one himself. 

The relationship between master and padawan was a profound thing. An eagerness to learn and single minded devotion on one side, and knowledge rooted in deep compassion on the other. Given the Jedi stance on attachment, it was the most important relationship a Jedi experienced. Everyone in the Order, padawan, knight, or master, had heard stories of Master Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker. No pair got in more trouble nor accomplished as much as they had. It didn’t matter if Skywalker was no longer a padawan; the admiration and respect they held for each other was unmatched. 

I didn’t need to hear it from Master Krell’s lips to know that he never felt that way about me. All I ever received from my old master was guidance, and stern guidance at that.

Suddenly I realized my mental shields were up again. Without meaning to, I was again trying to hide my thoughts and feelings. I frowned. I didn’t want to lower my shields, to expose myself to Master Kenobi, but…if I wanted to be a Jedi, I needed to act like one. Slowly, I let my defenses fall, carefully watching Master Kenobi for a reaction. Master Kenobi’s gaze remained on his foot. Perhaps his pain was blinding him to my feelings.

Master Kenobi put on his undertunic, but he left his overtunic where it was on the floor.

I shook my head, letting the thoughts fall away. “C’mon,” I said lightly, holding my hand out to Master Kenobi. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

Lifting his arm to wedge myself into his armpit, I hoisted him to his feet, and together, we shuffled towards the bunks. I helped him sit on the bottom bunk and stepped back, stretching out my neck.

“When you say Krell hit you,” Master Kenobi started, causing me to freeze, “what do you mean by that?” I shifted uncomfortably. “You don’t mean that he physically struck you, right?”

As I hesitated, a wave of discomfort washed over me so suddenly, I nearly staggered back.

It wasn’t my own, I realized, as I looked at Master Kenobi’s face. 

As a youngling, I hadn’t heard of any physical punishments being used by the Jedi to discipline their padawans, but it happened often enough with my previous master, that I’d assumed it was common practice. Did Master Kenobi’s reaction mean that it wasn’t?

“I can feel your turmoil,” Master Kenobi murmured. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He was apologizing again?

“It…” I licked my lips. “It wasn’t that bad.” 

Really, it wasn’t. 

He raised a hand to me once in a while, but most of his aversion was reserved for the clones. Unlike them, I was never intentionally put in danger for the purpose of furthering strategy. Master Krell treated me more like an ally than them, and that counted for something. 

Still, a memory surfaced from a few weeks ago, shortly before Master Krell’s deceit had been uncovered. 

Master Krell had caught me dragging the battalion’s captain out of danger during a conflict, but he hadn’t said anything until the battalion had camped for the night.

The deep tenor of his voice and his related stance with all four of his hands clasped behind his back hadn’t matched with the accusation in his words when he’d asked me what I was doing, neglecting my duty in a fight to save a clone.

I didn’t have time to reply before Master Krell took matters into his own hands. A phantom burst of pain across my face, the memory as clear as when it’d happened.

“Caraya's soul,” Master Kenobi said softly, the color draining from his face. “He hurt you.”

Out of habit, I threw my mental shields back into place. “It could’ve been worse.” It could have been so much worse.

Master Kenobi must’ve been in a lot of pain, for his face was screwed up in an unpleasant expression.

“Is your leg alright?” I asked worriedly. Maybe the bandages were too tight, and he was losing blood flow.

“Leg?” he asked slowly. “Oh, my leg…it’s fine.” He seemed almost distracted, as if he’d not only forgotten that his leg was injured but that he even had a leg in the first place. Master Kenobi sat up, leaning closer with such intention, I knew more questions were coming.

“I should go check the status of the storm,” I said, getting up.

“What?”

I grabbed my coat off the floor, pushing my hands through the sleeves. “The snow might have stopped.”

“I’m coming with you.” Master Kenobi sat up in his bunk.

“No!”

Master Kenobi blinked at my outburst. “You’re injured,” I said abruptly. “You shouldn’t be putting any weight on that leg.”

“You can’t go on your own.”

“Why not?” I rubbed nervously at the inside of my wrist. “I can secure a perimeter.”

“You should have someone watching your back.”

“It won’t take long.”

“Wait!” Master Kenobi held up his overtunic. “At least wear this. You can’t go out in the cold with just your undertunic.”

I hesitated.

“Please.”

I gingerly took it, wrapping it around me as carefully as I could before walking to the door. 

As I lifted my hand to push the button on the pad, a strange, masculine smell drifted up into my nose. 

Master Kenobi’s smell.

It made my head spin a bit, and I quickly hit the button before ducking back into the harsh winds. I couldn’t be angry with the pain flashing through my face, not when the winds seemed to blow away my momentary vertigo. 

I glanced around. The snow had stopped, and the planet had lightened, meaning I could decipher where the sky ended and the land began. The wind continued to blow, and that was probably the reason that there was no sign of our footprints.

Now was the time to make a break for the ship.

-

The biting wind continued to harass us on our trek back to the ship, but being able to see made the journey much quicker. I kept us moving, worried that when we got to the ship, we’d have to commence the warming process again, especially Master Kenobi, since he’d insisted I wore his overtunic. 

As we neared the ship, I noted with relief that the astromech droid was still in its droid socket. It beeped and whistled in droidspeak, relaying its concern for our tardiness.

As soon as Master Kenobi was inside, I went straight for the cockpit, turning the ship on while thanking the Republic fleet for allocating us a ship designed to withstand freezing temperatures. The ship turned on with a slight hum. Wasting no time, I maneuvered the ship off the ground and into the air, straight for the atmosphere.

Once we left the planet’s atmosphere, I relinquished the ship to the astromech droid, quickly ducking back into the hold to check on Master Kenobi, who lay on the cot, using the stiff pillow not for his head but to elevate his foot. 

“We’re maybe a few hours away from Coruscant.”

Master Kenobi didn’t say anything and didn’t spare a look in my direction. I lingered for a few moments, waiting to see if he would break the silence. If reputation was to be believed, he didn’t stay silent for long, prone to questions, criticism, even wisecracks. Perhaps he would dig more into my past or shed more light on the actual teachings of the Jedi code. 

But the silence remained unbroken.

Unsure of myself, I walked into the cockpit, and the door slid shut behind me. The astromech was doing all the work, so there wasn’t much point in sitting here. But to go back in there…for some reason, the idea of it made my stomach twist. 

I realized, as I sat in the pilot’s chair, that my mental shields were up again. Frustrated, I lowered them.

And then, what I could only describe as the humming of light came from behind me. 

Master Kenobi, I realized. I could feel him. Not his thoughts or his feelings, but his presence. Here, in a separate part of the ship, I felt closer to him than when I’d been standing skin-to-skin with him in the refresher. 

“What in the name of Chobb?” I muttered to the stars, who of course, offered no answers. 

-

“Master Kenobi, we are pleased to see you and your padawan returned safe,” said Master Windu, clasping his hands in his signature, thoughtful look. “I will say, your mission took quite a turn.”

“That it did,” Master Kenobi said. “I certainly didn’t expect to nearly lose a limb.”

Chuckles rippled through the councilroom. I nearly rolled my eyes. When we’d landed, I brought Master Kenobi to a healer right away, who declared that Master Kenobi would heal just fine. From my position slightly behind Master Kenobi, I could see that he was still favoring his uninjured side, despite the healing sheath that was currently wrapped around his injury. Even so, the healer had never even mentioned amputation.

“What did you observe of the base before the snowstorm hit?” Master Murag asked.

As Master Kenobi rattled off the information we’d gained, I subtly gauged the expressions of the masters.

Their expressions were pleasant, but revealed nothing. They kept their attention on Master Kenobi, barely sparing a glance in my direction. I couldn’t tell if that was good or bad.

“Well done,” Master Koon said once Master Kenobi had finished. “This information is valuable. We have another mission for you, once you have healed up.”

I bowed, expecting the meeting to be over.

But Master Kenobi didn’t move.  

“To say, more have you, Master Kenobi.” Master Yoda said, showing his famed clairvoyance. 

“Yes.” 

I tried to keep my face impassive while desperately wishing I could see Master Kenobi’s. What was he doing? What more could he have to say about this mission that hadn’t been in his report? I’d been both at the mission and in this room when he gave his report. There was nothing he missed.

Master Kenobi rounded out his shoulders, standing tall.

“Padawan Y/N’s diligently-gained knowledge kept me safe from threats I myself would not have known how to approach.” My breath caught, and I stared at the back of his head, wondering what he was doing. “Without her, I would not have made it back. She was invaluable.”

None of the masters reacted, their faces not showing a single hint of surprise, as if they had no investment in the conversation at all. I, however, felt like I’d swallowed a box of fireworks and been told to stand still. 

“Is that so?” asked Master Tiin.

“Indeed. I believe she is well on her way to being a great asset to the Jedi Order.”

Master Windu glanced over at Master Yoda. “Well, thank you for your words. You both are dismissed. We will inform you of your next mission once your injury has fully healed.”

Master Kenobi nodded to his fellow masters and walked out of the councilroom. 

I followed him through the door and through the Jedi temple, completely at a loss for words.

“Why did you say all that?” I managed to ask once we’d passed the library. 

Master Kenobi didn’t even bother to act confused or clueless. “Because it was the truth. And they need to know the truth.”

“But they weren’t asking about my conduct.”

Master Kenobi stopped walking, looking at me dead in the eyes. “The way Krell treated you was abominable. I suspect I know very little of the true extent of his mistreatment, but had any of us known what I do know, we would’ve put a stop to it immediately. But you spent years under his tutelage, suffering.” He paused, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “It is my responsibility to right his wrongs. That starts with clearing your name.”

“Why?”

“Because I am your Master. It is my job to help you become the best Jedi you can be.” 

“But–” I froze, wishing I could recall the interjection. It wasn’t right to question my master like this. 

Master Kenobi gave me a meaningful look. 

I shifted. “You’re not going to pass me off to someone else?”

Master Kenobi smiled softly, like there was some secret joke between us. “I may not have chosen you traditionally, but I did choose you.”

“Why would you–”

“Because you saved Captain Rex.”

My mind went utterly blank, and it was only by some miracle that my jaw did not drop. Saving a clone—the action Master Krell condemned me for—was what appealed to Master Kenobi?

“Who told you I saved him?”

My only answer was a tiny gleam in Master Kenobi’s eyes. “I believe it is time for you to wash up and get some sleep. In the morning, we will start to fix Master Krell’s teachings.” He turned and started limping down the corridor.

“Master Kenobi?” I called, and he turned to face me. “How...how am I supposed to know which of his teachings were good and which were bad?”

“Simple,” Master Kenobi said. “You ask.” With a nod, he went on his way.

I watched him go.

When I’d been informed after Master Krell’s death that I would now be reassigned to Master Kenobi, I expected a period of adjustment, but I hadn’t known the two masters would be so different.

Master Krell accomplished much in this war, because his single-minded approach meant nothing else mattered besides victory. He was brutal and untrustworthy. Because he’d been my master for so long, I’d nearly forgotten what the Jedi Order valued.

Over the course of this mission, Master Obi-Wan Kenobi had proven himself to be the epitome of everything a Jedi should be.

A selfless, powerful warrior equipped with bravery and strong with the Force. 

I didn’t…I didn’t have the words to explain it, this feeling rising up in me. The feeling that made me hold my head high. The feeling that challenged some of my long held beliefs. The feeling that perhaps I wasn’t completely alone in this galaxy. 

I only knew that whatever it was, it was because of the Jedi Master with hair too long and heart much bigger.

-

Part 2

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle​ @valiantlytransparentwhispers​

Rescue Me tag list:

@penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories @starlazergazer

[anakinskywalker97]

What you are capable of

Anakin X Platonic Padawan Reader

Summary: The reader is given a mission from Palpatine to negotiate air space access. It's a big trap to get her killed off to pull Anakin closer to the dark side.

Warnings: non-graphic mentions of rape and assault - not to the reader. Anakin freaking out, murder, happy ending, big dad vibes, hurt comfort

Being Anakin’s Padawan had meant that your Jedi journey had not been the usual sort. When Yoda had summoned you to the chancellor's office you weren't surprised. You got dressed and moved quickly not wanting to keep everyone waiting. What did surprise you was the absence of your master and Obi-Wan. Normally the three of you went everywhere together. You felt it was like being a family, in the darker parts of Anakin's mind you sensed he felt it was a kind of exile or alienation. 

You felt uncomfortable being in the presence of so many powerful people without Anakin. Normally he would help you navigate these types of situations. You bowed and waited for them to speak first. 

“Ah, lovely to see you dear!” The chancellor looked at you with a big smile on his face. Obi-wan and Anakin trusted him but he always made you feel strange. “We have a special task for you.” 

“We need you to negotiate an air space passage with someone in the outer rim,” Windu spoke clearly but you could feel he didn't approve of this plan. 

“Oh, I’m sure that won’t be an issue for us.” 

“We all feel it would be best to send you in with a team of troopers. He has a bit of a history with Anakin.” You tried hard not to let your emotions bleed through. “Your language skills are a necessity for this mission, really there is no better person to send.” 

You thought about it for a moment. Everything inside you was screaming not to do this, especially without Anakin’s approval. 

“Help you must,” Yoda said nodding. 

“Alright, thank you for the opportunity. I’ll go let Anakin know -” 

“I’m afraid there isn't time, I will speak with your master as soon as he returns from his tasks.” Palpatine gave you a reassuring look and a soft smile. You nodded and Windu escorted you to the ship. As far as you knew Anakin was asleep in his quarters, you reached out your mind and tried to wake him up. 

______________________________________________________________

Anakin was asleep. A rare occurrence these days. He could feel himself lying in the grass, wildflowers around him. The sun was shining on his face and the air was warm. Qui-gon and Obi-wan were laughing and he was very at peace. Anakin sat up when he felt you pressing into his mind. You were channeling all of your fear to him, pushing into his mind with as much force as you could. 

He shot out of bed and tried to reach out to you. He could tell you weren't in your room, but that you had moved a far distance in a short span of time. 

You were too far away. 

Where the fuck did you go?

He threw his robes on quickly and ran out into the hall, Obi-Wan moved around the corner and greeted him with a concerned face. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked grabbing Anakin’s shoulder 

“Where the fuck is my Padawan?” He asked angrily. 

He and Obi-Wan approached the council. Anakin knew he needed to control himself, but he could tell he was at his breaking point. They had no right to give you orders or send you anywhere without him, or his approval. You were tied to him, every move you made or any move the world made against you was his sole responsibility. Obi-Wan had his usual deep sense of calm surrounding him, Anakin wanted to shout at him for it. 

“The chancellor insisted Anakin, you have to understand the importance of this trade route -” One of the Jedi masters tried to explain, but he could sense Windu’s discomfort and focused his attention on him. 

“She’s with a whole crew of troopers. The chancellor was very clear he wanted her to be the one who made contact.” Windu finally broke. 

“Who is she meeting with?” Obi-Wan asked in a casual voice. 

“Orar Baize,” Windu answered and Obi-Wan clamped his hand on Anakin’s shoulder tightly. Anakin was tempted to hit him but felt slightly subdued by his master's energy. Making a scene here only meant it would be harder to go after you. 

“When is she to return,” Obi-Wan asked seemingly unbothered by this information. 

“If everything goes to plan, three days.” Windu said firmly. 

“Thank you.” Obi-Wan directed Anakin to the door and they moved down the hallway quickly. Once in the elevator, Anakin was ready to explode. 

“Don’t” Anakin pushed his master's hand away as Obi-Wan tried to help him. Rage and betrayal pulsed through him if he started to side with the council Anakin would kill him. 

We need to get to a ship. Just keep it together till then.

His master's words felt like a cool cloth being pressed to his forehead. He could feel his walls slip a little and realized he was just as angry as Anakin. 

We need to be practical if we are to reach her in time

For once Anakin wasn't annoyed with his master's reminder to be practical. He took a deep breath and felt his emotions focus. 

They climbed into a two-seater and managed to slip away without too much attention being drawn to themselves. It wasn’t unusual for Anakin to take a fighter out for a ride. 

He got the coordinates locked in and let the ship do its thing. 

“We should have dealt with him after what he did to Master Kenau.” Anakin's voice was venomous and he felt Obi-Wan sigh. 

“I agree. What he did and his reputation for collecting Jedi is unforgivable.” Obi-Wan nodded. Master Kenau, was badly assaulted years ago, Anakin found out and insisted they press the council to do something about him, but she refused. She wasn’t herself after that and Anakin felt her pain to this day. 

“She’s just a kid. They sent a child into the hands of a rapist with a special appetite for Jedi.” Anakin had only reached this level of anger when he had the sand people incident. He tried to remember there was a lesson in all of that, how painful it was to tell Obi-Wan. Thinking of something happening to you erased all feelings of remorse or logic.

“The council has become more and more influenced by the politics of The Republic,” Obi-Wan said taking Anakin off guard. “It is not our place to be involved with these kinds of things.” 

“What do we do about it?” Anakin asked genuinely curious about his master's stance. 

“I get the feeling it will all fall into place after we get her back.” He said calmly. 

“I didn’t think you would help,” Anakin said in a quiet voice, unsure if he wanted to discuss these issues now. 

“Please, Anakin. The girl is like a granddaughter to me.” Obi-Wan chided. 

That would make me your son, Anakin thought to himself. He held those words with him while they tried to catch up with you. 

____________________________

You were starting to realize that this was a trap. Your stomach was right. You should have kicked and screamed and stalled till Anakin or Obi-Wan could get to you. 

But here you were, alone. Clones were murdered in the landing bay, and you were in Orar’s office after taking out a bunch of droids. You had never met a species of his kind. He was large with mint green skin. 

“What’s your name?” He asked with the smile of a predator. His teeth were long and pointed. You decided not to answer. 

“Well, tiny Jedi. The Chancellor has held up his end of the bargain.” His eyes were dark and you stood there with good posture like Anakin had taught you. “Your life was traded for something of little value.” He was trying to get a rise out of you. But that’s what men like that fed on, he wanted you to argue your value. He wanted to watch you dance and react, wanted to feel your youth and belittle you. 

“Come on little Jedi, Say something.” 

“Something.” You said easily and his jaw clenched. 

“Don’t make this difficult, it could be a nice time if you let it be.” You started to feel what he wanted and you fought harder than ever to keep your emotions closed off and contained. 

“I think I should be leaving now.” You said diplomatically, you would try to walk out of here the Jedi way first. 

“That’s not going to happen.” His body radiated a sick pleasure and you let it feed the anger in your chest the way Anakin showed you too.

__________________________________________

The sound of dueling rang through the landing bay as they moved through the bodies of clones and droids. Anakin moved quicker than he could ever remember moving in his life. They moved onto the top platform and watched you duel with Orar. 

Anakin could tell you had been at it for a long while by this point. He watched as you defended yourself. He moved forward and Obi-Wan put a hand on his arm. Anger shot through him.

I had to watch you fight your first battle too 

Obi-Wan’s voice ran through his mind, his hand still firm on Anakin's arm. He watched your ruthless form and could see the man faltering. He had taught you every form from the archives he could find. He wanted you to be the best Jedi he wanted you to be able to overcome all evil and triumph. 

Did you teach her illegal forms?

Obi-Wan hissed. He watched you execute it perfectly, slicing through the man’s body twice before his body hit the ground. Blood sprayed and he watched you sink to your knees chest heaving. 

Anakin rushed up to you picking you up as if his embrace could somehow stop the feelings that would eat into you. Your body shook hard and he took on all of your weight, picking you up properly. The three of you moved in silence back to the landing bay. He found a utility sink and put you down in front of him. He helped keep you up right and he washed your hands. Then he got the blood off your face and neck. Something he wished someone had done for him after the sand-people. 

He carried you back towards the ship. Obi-Wan held his arms out towards Anakin, he could feel his master’s reluctance to hold the girl. He only shook his head and got into the passenger side. 

He took his robe off and wrapped you in it. Your eyes were still closed tightly as your mind and body fought against each other for control. 

______________

Obi-Wan watched as Anakin held you tightly. Your face pressed against his chest and his arms around you. He reflected on all of the times he wanted to hold Anakin just as tightly but didn't.  He could feel the struggle inside you to overcome the situation, to make peace with what you had been forced to do. Anakin was angrier than he had ever seen him before, but he also watched his Padawan try to control it more than ever before. Obi-Wan got them locked in on the path home, he put his hand on Anakin’s shoulder, glad that he accepted Obi-Wan’s help. 

You need to clear your mind. It will be easier for her to process the feelings with your help. 

He could feel Anakin’s usual annoyance at his advice. But then he could feel Anakin center himself and then slowly start to take on your emotions. Eventually, you stopped shaking, he could tell the two of you were talking. 

He could also feel the dangerous bonds of attachment weaving around them. Something he realized he could only see because of his own attachment to Anakin. 

He sighed. He felt they were so far off the path they should be on. 

Tears fell down Anakin's cheeks as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. They had been soldiers in this war for too long. 

He knew Anakin wouldn't let this slide. He would be out for blood the second they reached Coruscant. Obi-Wan could hardly blame him, as the overwhelming anger was boiling in his own blood. Sacrificing a 15-year-old to such evils was unforgivable. 

__________________

Obi-Wan was with you for most of the day. He spared with you and you wondered if he would talk about the forbidden forms you had used. You wanted to talk to him about it but you were worried he would be angry with Anakin. You hated it when they fought. 

You were reluctant to sleep in your own bed. It's not that you regretted your actions you just felt overwhelmed by the feeling of killing someone. You knew the day would find you but the weight was relentless on your mind. You tried to revisit that ride home, sitting in his embrace. His love was an easy feeling to find in the bond between you now. You tried to hold it and breathe deeply when the memories would resurface.

Anakin had told you how to act over the next few days. You could feel his mind keeping tabs on you constantly. He told you to act normal and to tell him when they called upon you. You weren't allowed to leave the temple under any circumstances, keeping to your room and the training room. 

“Master Obi-Wan.” You asked turning off your lightsaber, he did the same. 

“Yes.” You could tell he knew what you wanted to talk about. 

“I wanted to let you know that I tried to leave like a Jedi.” You took a deep breath. “I asked to leave, I tried to fight defensively. He- I -” 

“I think you tried to fix the situation, and eventually realized the threat he posed was too large. You knew what he wanted to do to you and others. You did what you had to do. If I didn’t think it was right, I would have stepped in and handled it for you.” 

“Why didn’t you?” 

“Anakin and I needed you to see for yourself what you are capable of. I do wish that it could have been in a lesser conflict.” His eyes were empathetic and you wanted to hug him. 

“You don’t think it makes me a sith?” You whispered.

“No” He laughed. “I don’t think the Sith could take you, even if they tried their hardest. Your heart is pure, more pure than most.” 

“Anakin said that’s why I need to learn everything to be prepared.” 

“He feels that you won’t lose yourself or be tempted by the power.” Obi-Wan made a face. “He worries about where the war is headed, above all Anakin wants you to survive.” 

You nodded thinking about your master's faith in you.

_

The call came sooner than you thought. Obi-Wan was in a meeting with Anakin and you were reading in your room. 

Master - you reached out 

What - Anakin responded right away 

The chancellor has summoned me 

Don’t leave your room - his voice was grave and you sat on your bed waiting for Anakin. 

He was there in moments, just long enough for the anxiety to take hold in your stomach. He told you to walk in there and listen and be polite, panic overtook you when you realized he wouldn't be following you in. 

Master - you reached out hesitantly with your mind and your fingers curled into the arm of his robe.

Just relay what he says to me 

You nodded and walked out of the elevator and down the long hall to his office. 

“Ah!’ Palpatine's eyes looked you over. “Thank you for coming to meet with me on such short notice!” His smile was wide and you wanted to hit him. 

“I understand that there was a complication with the mission, I just wanted to see how you were feeling about everything.” he tried to look understanding and you wondered what Obi-Wan had told the council. 

“Fine.” You gave a little shrug. 

“I understand that our contact had attacked you. I just wanted to apologize for what happened dear.” You watched him closely but didn't accept his apology wanting him to continue. “I did hear that your exceptional skills with a lightsaber saved you. I had no idea you were so gifted with all the forms.” 

“It’s complicated. But I’d rather be prepared for what's out there.” 

“Exactly! My thoughts exactly.” He looked so happy. “There is so much untapped power out there. Something I think you can feel quite well.” He looked at you expectantly. As if he was waiting for you to get the secret meaning of his words. 

“You and Anakin are both so special. I think that the three of us should work closer together in the future.” He nodded. Suddenly you caught on to what he was saying. 

“Sir, not to overstep -” 

“Please, child. We are friends.” He smiled again, his eyes hungry. 

“Well, there is a lot of power, I feel angry that The Order keeps it from me. There is a war out there and we need more than -” You waved your hands around. “This. Something stronger.” 

He looked positively deranged with joy. 

“I know the ways beyond the order, I could teach you and your master.” 

“What would you teach us?” You asked innocently. 

“The true power of the force.” 

“Like the dark side?” You tried to sound even more curious. 

“Perhaps.” He nodded, but you could see in his eyes what he was. His eyes had changed with his excitement. Of course, he was at the center of everything. 

Master, Palpatine is the sith

It only took a moment for Anakin to knock on the door. He opened it and smiled at Palpatine, and you felt his force presence push you down onto the red carpet. You let it push you down and hold you there. in a flash of a second everything had changed.

Before Palpatine could react you felt the Jedi storm the room. Anakin killed Palpatine and a strange feeling washed over the room. You reached for Obi-Wan and he let you hold on to his side, placing an arm around your shoulders.

“He was a mother-fucking sith.” Windu groaned. Yoda put his hands over this face. Anakin looked triumphant and gave you a big smile.

Fulfilled my prophecy. Now let's get out of here.

___________

Qui-Gon's force ghost finds Obi-Wan and puts them on the right path.

The Order being stupid and Obi-Wan finally siding with Anakin. them going into exile to learn from Qui-Gon and train you. Family vibes.

Anakin being more and more like your father. His love for you always being open and accessible as you navigate your own journey. Even when you are fighting you can reach out and feel it. When you get older and follow your calling into conflicts you can reach out and feel no matter how far away you are.

Just anything other than what happened in cannon.

Him finally falling for Padme and being anxious about your response to her. Them having the twins and him always refering to you as his eldest daughter.

Obi-Wan spoiling all three of the kids and always giving you advice when you didn't want to go to Anakin.

[fromasgardandback]

The New Jedi Order

Anakin Skywalker x Jedi!Reader

masterlist | oneshots

What if the Jedi Order changed to allow attachments? Like, it would be okay to have relationships and friendships, but not let it affect your work. But if it affected your missions then you’re forced to leave the Jedi Temple. Can you just imagine how happy Anakin would be knowing that he can be with his girl in public? He would parade her around the temple with pride. He wouldn’t care what people thought and would just go out of his way to show how much he loves his beau. They would be the most badass Jedi duo anyone would know. The Imperial Army droids would be scared of them whenever they were. Even General Grievous knew of you and Anakin but never met, not until Palpatine was kidnapped. The Empire Trio was Obi-Wan, Anakin, and yourself. Now that was a group that no one went up against. 

When work wasn’t involved, Anakin would sneak you away to romantic places. You both hid a lot in the night and away from others. Because of your stay on Naboo, you fell in love with it, so Anakin and you saved up to buy a place on the water. It was secluded but totally worth it. Every day with this man was so unique and inviting. The way he held you close in the middle of the night, afraid someone would take you. Y’all would make breakfast together too and explore the mid-morning. Yeah, sure you guys got into your fights now and then, but you make up before bed. A few months after moving to Naboo, you got married in the sunset with the love of your life.

The best thing that happened to the Jedi was allowing attachments. It saved more people's lives than they thought. All in all, Anakin loved having you in his life and whether the Jedi Order allowed it or not, he wasn’t going to let you go. This man was so in love with you that nothing would get in his way. And because they allowed attachments, Anakin never went to the dark side. Your man became a Jedi Master and lived his life happily

[floffytofu]

Obi-wan : We call that a traumatic experience.

Obi-wan, turning to Anakin : Not a "bruh moment".

Obi-wan, turning to Ahsoka : Not "artistic inspiration".

Obi-wan, turning to Reader : And DEFINITELY not an "oof LMAO".

[moonlit-imagines]

warnings:

a/n:

not requested

“Well, Cody, Master Yoda has finally assigned me a new padawan. I almost thought he’d forgotten.” Obi-Wan joked as you stood beside him with a kind smile. “And he did not disappoint.”

“Sure didn’t, General.” Cody replied, removing his helmet. “I’m Commander Cody, good meeting you.”

“Y/N L/N.” You introduced yourself. “I look forward to working with you.”

“You gonna have my back out there, kid?” Cody tilted his head up slightly and smirked.

“You know it.” You looked up at him and smiled, noticing his fist reaching out. You put your own out and bumped over and under, then looked over to your new master.

“I think you’ll be a great addition to our battalion. That is—if you can follow orders. My last padawan was not much of a listener.” Obi-Wan told the two of you, who both laughed.

“So I’ve heard.”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @gabile18 // @sweetjedi // @retvenkos // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @dontyousassmeok // @dindjarinsspouse // @zoeyserpentluck // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @sheridans-dynamos // @lady-violet // @simsrecs // @xoxobabydolls // @ruvaakke // @simp-legend // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @your-local-simp0 // @elenavampire21 // @pheonixfire777 //

[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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[taska-rokanh]

Good Night (Platonic Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!Reader)

As Obi-wan Kenobi's padawan, your life was never short on adventure. Unfortunately, that meant you were always short on sleep. You were pretty sure the bearded man could see that when he asked you to stay on the ship while he, Anakin, and Ahsoka went ahead on the recon mission.

You tried to stay awake, knowing that despite the low impact of the task, it was all too important when someone or something actually did try to take or destroy the ship.

You only closed your eyes for a moment, and when you opened them again, you were against Anakin's chest, being carried to the quarters that, for the time being, you were sharing with your fellow Padawan.

You mumbled something that was probably supposed to come out as, "Master?" It sounded more formless than that, you were sure.

"Shh," he said quietly. "Ahsoka's already asleep. I was trying not to wake you."

"Thanks," you whispered once he set you down, feeling the tension in your neck from falling asleep in your chair release.

"No problem, kid. Sweet dreams."

It was only a few minutes before you heard Obi-wan's light footsteps announce his presence.

He walked over to Ahsoka's bunk first, seeming to check her for injuries once again. The mission must've been more dangerous than they'd been expecting.

"Oh, Padawan," he gave a quiet sigh as he settled down by your bedside. "You know, sometimes I wonder if I go... too easy on you."

He thought you were already asleep.

"But, as much as I hate to admit it, I'm glad you weren't with us this time," Obi-wan whispered. "It was nothing serious, nothing to worry about now, but there was one moment, where Ahsoka--oh, my heart nearly stopped. I can't imagine what it would be like if I had both of you to be worrying about.

"And I know you'll have to be in danger plenty before this war is over... ha, Qui-gon would not have had a problem with this," he shook his head, laughing faintly at himself. "For Forcesake, I didn't even have this problem with Anakin. I wasn't raising him in the middle of a war."

He sighed again. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. This is something I have to figure out on my own," he rubbed a hand across his beard before leaning over and pressing a light kiss to your cheek. "Sleep well, my dear. See you in the morning."